It took less than ten minutes after their arrival for the waiting sector to become a disaster zone of wailing babies, choking civilians, and hyper-vigilant sentinels. At the center of it all stood Ratelsi, genuinely perplexed, as she snuffed out her arcane aura and dissipated it from the vicinity. Furrowing her brows, she looked around, surveying the aftermath of her outburst.
Some teenagers and breastfeeding mothers huddled together in their seats, massaging their temples, nursing sore throats with tired sighs. The Mercs kept a cautious distance, muttering nervously as they pulled up their masks, while the factory workers kept their soot-stained arms raised in defensive shields. A toddler's shrill cry cut through the room's low groans.
"Shh, shh, it's alright," the mother with spotted blue skin whispered, cradling the crying infant close. Shielding her son behind her arm, she guided him to her breast as she unfastened her collar to nurse, careful to keep her tusks out of the way. The baby's wails soon soothed into quiet nuzzles. Torenn began pulling fallen Peculiars off the floor, while Jeenah strolled up to the clerk's workstation.
"Hey, um…" Jeenah leaned over the counter, squinting at the clerk's holographic ID. "Dartha, right? Could we get a few cups of water for them?" She gestured to the cluster of coughing Peculiars.
"Right away, Ms Obidiah," Dartha replied. With her top set of hands, she activated her HoloSmart; with her second pair, she powered down her primary terminal; and with the third, she fished a stack of plastic cups out of a bottom drawer. By the evaluation room, the guarding Paladins remained rooted in place, hands on their Detonators, watching the room unfold. Grateful, Jeenah gave Dartha a sheepish grin before trotting back to Torenn, who had just helped a large Merc to her feet. The Merc immediately turned to help the people around her as Torenn nudged Jeenah towards their escorting Paladin.
"Check out the vulture. He's fixated on Ratelsi," he said, pointing with his chin.
"Huh?" Jeenah turned, her smile fading.
At the center of the room, the Paladin had his Detonator drawn and trained on Ratelsi's chest. The Mawborn had already noticed, head tilted, and was eyeing her prey with an unblinking stare as she rested a hand on a cocked hip.
"Ah, shit. He's running a threat assessment," Jeenah muttered under her breath, lips pressed into a thin line. If his scan had gone through, he'd already hit a dead end; Ratelsi's profile had been blacked out on the MAP database since her recusancy. Worse, the Mawborn seemed to lack any intuitive concept of restrained force—especially when dealing with ordinary, unarmed people who posed no real threat. If it weren't for their built-in resilience, Jeenah and Torenn would be on their knees, coughing alongside the crowd.
Tapping her HoloSmart, Jeenah spoke into the receiver. "Joji, profile check on target."
"Scanners initialized. Link established with optical sensors. Awaiting visual confirmation." Joji's voice chimed.
Jeenah shifted her glowing teal eyes to the escorting Paladin, scanning his bio-signatures. The device pinged, and an overlay lit up his personnel record in her field of vision: Nolan Price. Argonian-American. Non-Peculiar (Normie). "Alright, great," She said to Torenn. "Now that I got a name to work with, I can get him to back off." Watching Jeenah step up to intervene, Torenn gave an encouraging nod.
Beneath the dark glass of his visor, Nolan was sweating, salty beads rolling down his temple. Red warning banners flooded his optical feed, flashing in endless repetition: ERROR! CLASSIFIED! ACCESS DENIED! No matter how many times he attempted to scan Ratelsi's bio-signature, the database shut him out. Nothing about this woman added up. Who breaks a limb just by accidentally slapping someone in the face? His visor's analysis module left him blind against an unknown threat.
Sensing his mounting agitation, the surrounding queue scrambled backwards, clearing a wide lane as Nolan slowly advanced on the Mawborn. "Stay where you are!" he commanded.
"I'm standing right here," Ratelsi said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder, narrowing her glowing green eyes. She acknowledged to herself that discharging her aura hadn't helped, but it had been purely reflexive. She glanced back at the reptilian Peculiar still whimpering over his bent wrist. As far as she was concerned, his wrist had already shattered the moment his hand hit her face. So his broken limb wasn't her fault. Convinced she was entirely in the right… or mostly, anyway… Ratelsi returned her focus to Nolan.
"State your name and show your brand!" Nolan ordered, thumbing the Detonator's safety lock off.
Ratelsi ran her tongue over her canines, a mocking smirk twisting her expression. "Mm, now why would I do that? This isn't a checkpoint, and I don't take orders from you."
"Ma'am, comply or—"
"Okay, okay! Time out, everyone. Let's all take a chill pill," Jeenah interrupted, casually resting her fingers on Nolan's arm. Standing on her toes, she leaned into his helmet and lowered her voice. "Starting with you, Nolan Price."
Hearing his full name, Nolan snapped his gaze toward her. Even behind the tinted faceplate, he froze, betraying his shock. She flashed an ominous smile, as if saying, 'Yeah, I know who you are,' before speaking again. "I'm sure you realize this behaviour isn't helping the current situation. And drawing this much attention to our rookie isn't exactly discretion, is it?"
As if anything about you Peculiars is ever discreet, Nolan thought bitterly. But he kept the sentiment to himself, immediately saluting with two fingers to his collarbone. "Apologies, Ms Obidiah. I was only acting to identify a security threat."
Glowing teal eyes brightened dangerously at the word "threat", yet Jeenah, appearing unfazed, kept her pleasant yet ominous posture. "No need to apologize for doing your job, Nolan. But stand down—it's unnecessary right now."
"Understood, ma'am."
Turning back to the room, Jeenah addressed the silent queue, her brows furrowed with concern. "While it saddens me that you all must endure this treatment, our rank structurally exempts us from these procedures by default."
A loud, mocking snort cut through the quiet. The bright silver-eyed Merc who'd ignited the crowd earlier, talking about their "fancy outfits", adjusted his mask and rolled his eyes with blatant contempt. "Pssh," he muttered.
Glowing teal eyes found him instantly, blinking as Joji overlaid the man's profile into Jeenah's field of vision. "Alfon Soh," she began, striding towards him as the crowd scrambled back to clear a path. "Trained escort. Indigenous to Argona. Peculiar. Power Type: Electrical Manipulation."
Oh? Just gonna read out his dossier like that? Brutal, Ratelsi mused, watching the scene unfold with mild amusement.
Alfon's thick brows furrowed. "Is this supposed to be some kinda power play? Showing me my place?" He snorted again, reaching for the crowbar at his hip. "Think again, missy. That shit ain't gon' work on me."
Jeenah simply shrugged, turning to take a plastic cup from Dartha, who shuffled through the room, offering water to the crowd. Halting in front of Alfon, Jeenah held the plastic cup out to him. The Merc raised a skeptical brow, but at her persistent nudge, he reluctantly took it. Smiling approvingly, Jeenah continued.
"This isn't a flex, Alfon. But I know you now, which means I can find anything else about you just as easily. Which also means I can file an official report for a known disturbance interfering with Primarch Caius's newest recruit."
A collective gasp reverberated through the waiting hall. "Primarch Caius? He'll never work in this city again if the Primarch sees that file." "Harsh, though, don't you think?"
It was harsh, Jeenah agreed internally. But invoking the city's highest authority was the only way to diffuse the mounting hostility. Besides, they were stuck in an open queue only because this trip had been arranged on such short notice, leaving no time to set up their usual private sector. Alfon took a desperate gulp of water, but his trembling hands spilt half of it down his chin. If he got blacklisted, how would he afford the engagement ring he'd promised his girlfriend, Abigale? Grunting in frustration, the Merc wiped his face with his sleeve and looked down at Jeenah.
"I'm… sorry for the rude comment," he said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, no, no—an apology isn't necessary," Jeenah replied, stepping back. Turning to face the crowd, she bowed deeply and respectfully. Torenn stepped up beside her immediately, mirroring her deference. Ratelsi sighed wearily, dragging a hand down her face. "Oh, come on," she muttered. Yet despite her reluctance, the Mawborn fell in line beside her teammates, bowing her head with them.
Jeenah glanced over, her face lighting up. "I didn't think you'd join in."
"Pfft," Ratelsi grunted, staring at the floor. "I'm not letting you take the blame for my mess."
"So you are nice after all," Torenn teased, to which Ratelsi met his gaze with a glowing glare. "Say that again, and I'll break your wrist too. Deliberately this time."
Torenn chuckled as Jeenah addressed the room once more. "We're truly sorry for the commotion. If anyone else has sustained an injury, we'll gladly order a Medipod for you."
The blue-skinned, tusked mother—her toddler now sound asleep in her arms—spoke. "You shouldn't apologize for your standing, Ms Jeenah. We understand how the system works... even if we don't always like it."
As the trio straightened up, the mother added, "You protect us from this city's worst threats, those Dogmas, and we're grateful for that safety. If it weren't for P.A.R.T., half of us wouldn't even be alive to stand in this line today."
Jeenah stepped forward and gently held the woman's arms. "Thank you for saying that. What's your name?"
"Hanrie," she replied softly. "And this is my little knight, Kohan."
"What brings you in today?"
"Kohan's tusks finally came in, so I'm here for his official registration."
Smiling warmly, Jeenah nodded, then turned back to Nolan. "Escort Hanrie and Kohan first. Then the rest of the nursing mothers, followed by the teenagers, until everyone in line is cleared. I guess we'll be taking that secluded sector after all."
Nolan and the other Paladins saluted, immediately moving to reorder the queue. They led Hanrie and young Kohan toward the evaluation doors first. Torenn and Ratelsi stepped up to flank Jeenah as they watched the sector settle back into a manageable routine. The volatile energy in the air had dissipated, leaving behind a much calmer atmosphere.
Jeenah crossed her arms and let out a soft sigh. "All in a day's work, huh?"
Ratelsi rolled her eyes, while Torenn gave Jeenah an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Moments later, Nolan escorted the trio down the hall to a secondary sector—identical to the last, but vacant. Private. With no clerk stationed inside to process them, Nolan simply stopped by the threshold, rendered a crisp salute, and left them in the quiet corridor.
Flanked by her teammates, Ratelsi stepped up to the entrance. She raised a hand to push the heavy door open but froze. Her fingers curled into her palm, and she slowly pulled her hand back. Jeenah noticed this at once. "What's wrong?"
Ratelsi narrowed her eyes. "Nothing. I just…" She scoffed quietly. "This brings back some garbage memories, that's all."
Without another word, she shoved the door open and sauntered in.
An elevated circular stage dominated the center of the evaluation chamber. Accessible by a short set of metallic steps, the platform was accented with pulsing blue light strips. Control stations surrounded the perimeter, projecting glowing holographic schematics of Peculiar anatomy—a brain for mental aptitude, an inner core for arcane resonance, and a full-body wireframe for physical evaluations. A dark-skinned researcher in a white lab coat closely monitored the diagnostic readouts. As the door hissed shut, she spun away from her monitors, pulling her cat-eye glasses down her nose to reveal sharp amber eyes.
Ratelsi halted at the base of the stairs, staring right back.
"Oh?" The researcher inspected the newcomer from head to toe. "And who might you be to walk so brazenly into my workspace? Do you even know where you are?"
"Trust me, I'd rather be anywhere else," Ratelsi scoffed, crossing her arms.
"Mm. Prickly."
"Meet our newest recruit, Dr Holden. Ratelsi Ozias." Jeenah introduced.
Dr Holden—a Normie with bright orange hair pinned in a bun and a metallic prosthetic leg—snagged a cyan tablet off a nearby console. Her uneven footsteps clacked down the metallic stairs as she descended. Never once breaking eye contact with Ratelsi, Holden addressed Jeenah. "Brought me a feisty one, huh?"
"It's a nice change of pace. Keeps things interesting." Jeenah replied with a grin.
"I'm literally standing right here," Ratelsi muttered.
Torenn chuckled under his breath, already slumping into an ergonomic chair in the corner, settling in for the show. Jeenah strolled over to join him, also sinking into another chair and leaving Ratelsi and Holden staring each other down.
Without warning, the researcher raised a palm. Her fingers peeled open mechanically, exposing an integrated gun barrel at the center of her hand—and fired point-blank at the Mawborn. Ratelsi didn't so much as flinch as the bullet clipped strands of her white bangs, whizzing past her pointed ear to shatter against the back wall. Yet malachite eyes darkened dangerously at the sudden attack.
Dr Holden's cybernetic fingers reassembled seamlessly as she blew the lingering smoke off her palm, a smirk pulling at her lips. "Subject exhibits hyper-vigilance and is apparently fearless." Without looking, she reached her glowing tablet out into the air, as if handing it off to an invisible assistant. "Got that, Boris?"
"Yes, Mother," a deep, metallic rumble answered.
Ratelsi's gaze shifted past Holden to the shadows in the corner, where a towering, broad-shouldered robotic figure stood. Clad in a dark suit with a hot-pink tie, the android stomped forward, its bulbous yellow optical lenses whirring. Boris bowed slightly toward its 'Mother,' taking the tablet from her hand to begin typing her notes.
"How's that tin can gonna take notes with hands like those?" Ratelsi asked, gesturing toward the bulky machine.
"Boris," Holden corrected smoothly. "He's synced to my neural net, you see?" She tapped two fingers against a cybernetic plate embedded on the back of her neck. "I conduct the assessment in my mind, and he translates my observations into digital logs."
To demonstrate, the tip of Boris's thick index finger split open, revealing an integrated data drive. It slid seamlessly into the tablet's side port.
"Huh." Ratelsi's response was characteristically unimpressed.
"Consider him your co-evaluator," Holden added, beckoning Ratelsi forward.
So we're just gonna gloss over the fact that she almost shot my ear off? Ratelsi thought, narrowing her eyes. Alright then. Instead of pushing it, Ratelsi said, "I don't remember there being a Boris last time."
"Ah, Boris was a gift from Jeenah," Holden mused, searching for the right phrase. "To keep this place a little less… lonely."
When Ratelsi glanced back over her shoulder, Jeenah offered a beaming grin and held up two peace signs. Ratelsi frowned inwardly. Is it even possible for a person to be this genuinely good-natured?
"Next, I need to gauge your arcane baseline before we start the formal calibration for your HoloSmart," Holden said, pointing toward a machine set against the far wall. Hovering over a pedestal was a glowing white energy orb, suspended inside a nest of slowly rotating armillary rings.
The Metiri.
A masterwork combining high-grade tech with runic arcana, the Metiri was legendary for its precise measurements. Devices like this could be finicky, but the Metiri never lied. No matter who stepped up to it, the orb revealed exact power metrics without bias. The Praesidium had maintained one as well, using it to monitor students' growth and volatility. For Ratelsi, the artefact was a monument to her past trauma. It was her personal judge: she'd failed its test in this exact room at six years old when her uncontrollable Mawborn ability annihilated all of Yuleon, and she'd been forced back in front of it years later in the Praesidium to prove her baseline was stable before they'd let her walk out the door.
She stepped toward the artefact, her eyes tracking the synchronized dance of its floating rings. Intricate runes pulsed along the metal alloy, holding the contained core in a delicate balance.
"I take it you're familiar with the protocol?" Holden asked from behind.
Ratelsi nodded silently.
"Great. Just reach into the core, hold for a few seconds, then unleash your arcana."
Drawing a slow breath, Ratelsi held it in her chest and extended her hand toward the core. Before her skin could touch the energy field, reality glitched, drenching her forearms in dark, fresh blood, like the crimson mess they'd been in that fateful night—the first time she touched the Metiri. It was as though the artefact itself possessed a twisted memory, dragging her past forward to remind her that the same curse had brought her back into this room.
Ratelsi blinked hard, but the bloody illusion refused to dissipate. Thick, viscous sludge dripped off her fingertips, splatting in a bloody puddle at her feet before reversing its flow, crawling up her arms and reaching hungrily for her throat.
With a ragged gasp, Ratelsi stumbled backwards. She blinked once more.
The visual dissolved. Her skin was clean, but a shudder ran through her as cold sweat broke out across her forehead and slid down her spine. The temperature in the room felt like it had plunged to zero. She dropped her hand.
"Are there really no other ways to measure my arcana?" she asked, taut.
Holden shook her head. "Not if you want an accurate reading."
Ratelsi shut her eyes in bitter disappointment. After a long beat, she exhaled the stale air in her lungs and reopened her eyes, her resolve hardening. "Fine."
And then she reached in, closing her palm around the core.
The white light felt hot against her skin—not with a searing burn, but as a violent tingle prickling through her palm. Ratelsi adjusted her grip, pressing every finger flush against the orb's smooth curve. The Metiri's outer rings ground to a sudden halt. Then she let go of a fraction of her power.
BOOM!
A shockwave of raw arcana detonated through the chamber. The blast caught Holden and Boris full-force, sending them skidding backwards across the tiled floor. Jeenah and Torenn sprinted forward, hauling the Normie clear of the expanding blast zone just in time. Behind them, Boris slammed into the reinforced wall with a deafening crunch, denting the steel plates as Ratelsi's aura continued to billow like a tide, completely swallowing the room.
Her fear response absent, Holden clung to Jeenah, glasses askew, amber eyes wide, as she stared into the storm. "...Wow," she breathed.
"I know, right?" Jeenah gritted out in awe, her teal eyes glowing brighter with satisfaction.
"Is her output always this absurd?" Holden yelled over the roar of energy. Both Torenn and Jeenah nodded fervently.
"Wow," Holden repeated, completely transfixed.
At the center of the storm, Ratelsi held her ground. The Metiri acted like a gravitational siphon, greedily draining her arcana. She braced her legs as her aura whipped backwards, collapsing back into the orb. The etched runes flared into blinding points of light as the device gorged itself on her magical signatures.
Ratelsi's head jerked back, eyes rolling into her head as a loud gasp escaped her lips. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood, fingers locking onto the core in a white-knuckled grip. Then, with a pneumatic release, the artefact ejected her. Ratelsi stumbled back two paces, shaking out her tingling hand as she caught her breath.
Holden scrambled out of Jeenah's arms and practically threw herself toward the pedestal. The pristine white light had vanished. In its place, the orb churned with a deep, iridescent malachite green, swirling with abyssal black veins like an open gateway into a void, displaying both halves of her identity: the Peculiar woman and the patron god she carries. It pulled at the researcher's eyes, practically daring her to lay a finger on it.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Ratelsi warned, wiping sweat from her brow.
Holden rushed toward the Mawborn and grabbed her firmly by the elbows. A manic glint flared in her amber eyes, stripping away the composure she held moments before. In her expression was the look of a starved miner finding gold.
"W-what are you?" she asked, breathless, almost feverish.
Ratelsi scowled, revulsed. She yanked herself free, stepping out of range. "First, don't ever touch me like that. Second, shouldn't your precious Metiri tell you that? You do know how to translate its runes, don't you?"
Holden nodded frantically, taking a step closer anyway. "Yes, I can read them. But I need to hear you say it. Tell me… Ratelsi Ozias, what are you?"
Lifting her chin defiantly, Ratelsi's glowing eyes sent a shudder through the Normie as she replied, testing what it feels like to just... say the thing, now that she no longer has to hide it from the institution.
"I'm a Mawborn. A vessel for the Immortal King, Oded."
Holden gasped, her hands flying to her face. It's a miracle how her amber eyes kept opening impossibly wide. "Oh, merciful Liyuen… You're real..." she breathed.
Information on Mawborns was impossible to find—she'd spent years chasing rumours and dead-end files, hunting through lost archives for any shred of data on these mythical beings. Yet here one stood, breathing the same air she was. Not just a Mawborn, but a vessel for a King!
Without hesitation, Holden dropped into a deep bow, pressing a hand tightly over her heart. "Forgive my rudeness! I sensed your greatness, but never for the life of me would I have guessed I was standing in the presence of divinity itself. Before a god!"
"Oho. I like this one. Can we keep her, Ratelsi?" Oded's resonant voice echoed in her skull.
"Shut up. She's not a pet," Ratelsi growled aloud.
Holden blinked, looking up from her bow with a puzzled frown. "A… pet?"
Tutting in annoyance, Ratelsi massaged her throbbing temples. She'd meant to say that internally. "Just… ignore me."
Jeenah and Torenn finally rejoined them, with Torenn casually hauling the dented Boris by its arm across the tiled floor toward its awestruck Mother. Holden's awe vanished the instant she caught sight of her companion's ruined frame.
"Boris!" she shrieked, darting across the room.
Jaw dropped in horror, the researcher frantically ran her hands over the crushed chassis. Tears of distress welled at the corners of her amber eyes. Her pale expression held all the agony of a parent tending to a wounded child. Boris managed a low, mechanical whir before his optical lenses went dark, shutting down completely.
Holden whipped her head around toward Jeenah. "Tell me he can be fixed!"
Jeenah reassured her with a nod. "As easily as wiping a smudge off a table. Although…" She pointed a manicured finger at the robot's cheek, forearm, and knee. "He's caved in pretty badly in those spots. I'm not entirely sure how to smooth out metal that thick."
"I've got it," Torenn cut in, stepping forward.
Holden and Jeenah stepped back, Ratelsi grouping with them as they watched Torenn crack his knuckles. He jammed his fingers together and began to chant: "Amplifica vim manuum." [1]
His glowing yellow eyes flared even brighter, mirroring the golden aura that burst forth to envelop his hands. Arcane energy crackled across his skin, vastly amplifying his physical strength. With effortless precision, he sank his glowing fingers into the crushed steel and began massaging and reshaping the metal plates back into their original form.
Within a few minutes, Torenn finished his work, leaving Boris looking good as new—though the robot remained cold and powered down. Even so, relief visibly washed over Holden, easing the terror on her face now that his structural frame was intact. Stepping aside, the researcher tapped her HoloSmart to place a quick call.
"Send a gurney to Sector 3 immediately. We're taking Boris to Esrossa for an urgent overhaul." She paused, listening to the response, then her brows arched in sudden annoyance. "What do you mean you don't have one big enough? Make one fit!
She cut the line and turned around to find the trio staring at her with varying degrees of mild concern. Holden cleared her throat, letting out a sheepish chuckle. Removing her cat-eye glasses, she rubbed her eyes tiredly before placing them back on her nose, forcing a cheerful smile.
"Now, where were we? Ah, right!"
She beelined for Ratelsi, instinctively reaching out to grab her by the arms again—only to freeze as the Mawborn's golden pupils narrowed into threatening slits.
"Got it, hands to myself!" Holden laughed defensively, stepping back. "All I need now is a visual scan of your brand. If you could…"
Ratelsi gave a curt nod, easing her threatening posture as she let out a breath. Sticking out her tongue, she revealed an appendage long enough to easily brush against her chin. But it wasn't the length that made the room freeze. Burned into the soft tissue of the flat muscular surface was the Arcane Eye, glowing with a soft hue.
Holden stared, her glasses slipping an inch down her nose. Her breath caught as she leaned in, completely transfixed by the anatomical anomaly. Behind them, Torenn's brows shot up into his hairline, while Jeenah simply blinked, utterly speechless.
"Did you know you could get branded there? Was it even an option?" Torenn whispered out of the side of his mouth to Jeenah.
"Nuh-uh," Jeenah whispered back, unable to look away.
"Man… that had to hurt like hell."
"Uh-huh," Jeenah gave a blank, stunned nod.
[1] Translates to "Magnify the force of my hands"