Roseiral stood in front of the cracked mirror, running her hands over the unfamiliar garments she'd just put on. Days ago, she'd been scrambling through forests and fields, wearing whatever scraps of fabric had been left behind in her abandoned village. Now, she was gearing up for something she didn't entirely understand, surrounded by people whose strength and powers hinted at something much greater.
Her fingers brushed against a dark, leather vest with reinforced shoulders, its edges lined with sturdy stitching. She slid it on, testing its weight, and layered it over a lightweight shirt that allowed for flexibility. She completed the outfit with a pair of durable, pocketed pants and boots sturdy enough to tread through any terrain.
As she fastened a slim, braided belt around her waist, she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Not bad. You look almost ready for a mission," Ryker commented, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her new look. He held out a dark glove with metal reinforcement, the lines glinting faintly under the dim light. "Here, take this. Protection and precision are key in the field. This glove will help when things get tough."
Roseiral slipped the glove on, admiring the craftsmanship. "So, I guess… I'm really one of you now?"
"Not quite," Ryker smirked. "But you're getting there. This—being here, using these items—means you're part of the group. For now." He hesitated, as though deciding how much he wanted to reveal. "We're known as Fragmenters. Each of us holds a Magnus Fragment—a rare, powerful artifact. These fragments were turned into elixirs long ago, distilled with rare ingredients to give ordinary people abilities."
"Abilities?" Roseiral asked, her eyes wide. "Like… magic?"
Ryker laughed. "Something like that. But every fragment has a different effect. The symbol of the fragment you bear determines the power you get." He paused, his gaze shifting to a more serious tone. "The strongest Fragmenters are headquartered at the Church of Cardiel. That's our main base and our only real ally. The highest-ranked Fragmenters in the kingdom are there, keeping watch over… everything."
Roseiral's heart skipped a beat. "The Church?"
Ryker nodded. "They're the ones who have the real power and knowledge. Only they know the full story—how the fragments came to be, what's really going on in the kingdom. We follow them without question. They've done more for us than anyone else," he added, his tone trailing off as if hinting at something deeply personal.
Roseiral hesitated before asking, "Then… is it possible for me to become a Fragmenter?"
"Maybe," Ryker replied, eyeing her with curiosity. "It's not as simple as wanting it. Fragmenters aren't just handed powers; you earn it. If you manage to prove yourself, if you accomplish something extraordinary, then maybe. But for now…" He reached into a bag at his side and pulled out a pistol, placing it in her hands. "This should do for starters. And here's something extra."
He handed her a vial, labeled with a small inscription: PCC 565, Z8.
Ryker pulled a small, dark vial from his jacket. "PCC stands for 'Protective Containment Causefaxation,'" he explained. "These are items that have been… affected by fragments, making them unpredictable and, at times, extremely dangerous. PCC items can carry power, and are not to be underestimated.
"PCCs are categorized by danger and usefulness," he continued, his tone serious. "They range from Z-0, which are catastrophically dangerous, to Z10, which are actually beneficial to society. The categories in between cover everything from Severe Hazard (Z1-Z2) and Moderate Threat (Z3-Z4), to Unstable Utility (Z5-Z6) and Cautiously Useful (Z7-Z8). Z9s are usually safe if used with caution, while Z10s are the most stable, like medical tools or special enhancers for everyday life."
Roseiral studied the vial carefully, feeling its cold surface against her skin. "So… PCC 565 was discovered in 565?"
Ryker nodded. "Exactly. The lower the number, the older—and typically more dangerous—the item. Even this one, despite being categorized as Z8, carries risks."
She looked at him, a question in her eyes. "What does it do? Is this… alive?"
"Not quite. But you should treat it carefully," he replied with a grin. "PCC 565 is a stun bomb, effective but with a twist. It's a two-use item, so you'll have to ration it. When you pull the pin, it gives off a strong scent that makes anyone who breathes it feel… euphoric. High, even. They won't even know what's hit them until it's too late."
He paused, giving her a serious look. "Some PCC items even develop sentience, or what we call 'living qualities.' They may act on their own, often unpredictably. This vial here might seem harmless, but trust me, no PCC item should ever be underestimated."
"That sounds… dangerous," Roseiral murmured, tucking it into her belt beside the pistol.
"It is," he agreed. "But that's part of the job. You'll need tools like this when you're in the field."
Roseiral took a deep breath, steadying herself as she processed all of this new information. "And… back to the Church of Cardiel. They're really the ones controlling everything?"
Ryker's eyes met hers with a steady gaze. "They have more power and knowledge than anyone. The world is more layered than it seems. The Church knows that better than anyone. They train us, fund us, give us intel. We wouldn't survive without them."
She nodded slowly, her mind racing with questions. Then, a thought struck her. "Did you mention… someone named Liliac?"
Ryker raised an eyebrow. "You've met Liliac?"
Roseiral nodded. "He saved me, back when I… when I had nowhere else to go."
"Interesting." Ryker's expression softened, though his gaze remained keen. "Liliac doesn't usually involve himself with just anyone. He brought you here, you know. Left you with us before heading off to a council meeting. He's the one leading the Church. Even among Fragmenters, he's… unique."
Roseiral's eyes widened. "He… chose to bring me here?"
Ryker nodded thoughtfully. "It's rare for Liliac to take a personal interest in someone. He told us to take care of you, and Liliac doesn't make requests lightly." He hesitated, as if debating how much to share. "With the recent shadow attacks, strange mountain formations, and unrest across the land… I can't help but wonder if Liliac's planning something. When he's involved, it's usually serious."
Roseiral processed this, her hands tightening around the pistol and PCC 565 at her belt. The reality of her situation began to sink in—a world controlled by Fragmenters and the Church, layers upon layers of secrets, dangerous powers that twisted the minds of those who wielded them. But her mind spun with a dozen new questions, chief among them a lingering one that wouldn't leave her alone.
"Ryker," she began, glancing at him from beneath the shadow of her hood, "who are we… exactly fighting against?"
Ryker's expression hardened, a flicker of indecision in his eyes. For a moment, it seemed he might answer her directly, but then he closed his mouth, giving her a sidelong look. He let out a slow breath, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'll tell you soon enough. When we get a case, you'll be heading out with Arvo," he said, his voice quieter, as though he were confiding in her. "Then you'll see for yourself who we're up against."
Roseiral sensed that she wasn't going to get any more out of him right now, but even this small promise gave her something to hold on to. She nodded, tucking away her questions for the time being.
Ryker's tone shifted, signaling an end to the conversation. "For today, you'll be heading home early. This was purely informational, to get you up to speed."
He paused, his gaze softening just slightly. "Tomorrow, you'll be working with Vero. Be ready by morning."
Roseiral felt a pulse of anticipation, wondering what task she'd be facing with someone new. She inclined her head in acknowledgment, her thoughts racing.
As she turned to leave, she remembered something else—Godless. Lucianna had been watching over him while she met with Ryker. She left the room and made her way down the narrow, winding corridors of the Fragmenters' headquarters until she reached Lucianna's workshop.
Lucianna handed her the dog with a knowing smile, ruffling Godless's fur as she transferred him into Roseiral's arms. "Take good care of him," Lucianna murmured, giving Godless a gentle scratch behind the ears. "He'll keep you safe."
Roseiral nodded, feeling the warmth of Godless's presence as he settled comfortably in her arms.
Just as she was about to step out of the base, Ryker's voice called out to her from down the hallway. She turned, catching his silhouette as he leaned against the doorframe.
"One last thing," he said, his tone more serious than before. "Don't worry too much about everything I told you today. But be careful who you interact with from now on. You never know who might be watching… or listening."
She held his gaze, feeling the weight of his warning. The reality of her new life settled over her as she left the Fragmenters' base with Godless by her side, her thoughts racing as she tried to process all she'd learned and all that still lay hidden in the shadows.