Halo; The City of Formations, The Twenty-first City of Wonder... monikers, told by travelers far and wide. Another fabled city of mana.

  A lie; a convenience untold.

  Centuries ago, a Council of Sovereigns and Protectors were gathered, but two decrees brokered no argument.

  One; none beyond the Council would have a place in the governance of Halo.

  Two; the Council would conceal their presence, baring Link, in only the gravest of circumstances would they reveal themselves.

  Because should their power be measured. It would've surely been tested.

  So it was, topics were broached, discussions were had, arguments were presented, but nothing was written. In the end, those present were the only ones that mattered, long after mundane paper would fade, none would forget the results of the first gathering.

  It was the foundation and the turn; the beginnings of Halo.

  In time, the first tree fell beyond the mountain, and the first families came to settle the ring. So too did the tales began, of the Metal Men that came from the great mountain.

  Though few in number they helped settle the weary travelers, assisting to their needs, felling the trees, and raising their homes. Their wonder added to the majesty of the tales, but so too did the intrigue of small Ascendant groups.

  The silent battle commenced, but in the end...

  By the second decade, the raiding attempts stopped, and by the third, the sly adventures to Titan plummeted.

  The Ascendant Library was opened. And the path to be Ascension was offered to every citizen of the budding city-state. From Martial to Crafting, to Cooking, the three general groups allocated a diverse foundation, but a small ascent.

  The Sword; a well endowed path within the halls, littered the Martial texts to a third of their records. The Forge; was half, and yet the total of Crafting was less than a third of the Martial Sword. A path many would burn their insights than let a chance their work fall into the hands of their enemies. The Chef; was the majority of Cooking, and the sullen faces of the many who desired Alchemy as their own would repeat decades onwards.

  Still, migrants surged for their chance, Ascendants included. Passing the barriers and endowing themselves as citizens of Halo.

  Many forces called their "Chancellor" a fool for offering such knowledge. But as much as the discord rose, the avarice growing in ever incessant whispers, so too did the results by the end of the second century.

  Six Foundation Realms rose, their names recorded in the hall of the Ascendant Library. And finally, after these long years, the city had a natural deterrent.

  For the Council-- for Adam especially, it was a time where he could relax. Focus on more subtle and demanding works, and let the bearing of the torch pass onto the next generation.

  Prosperity was on the horizon, industry was bustling, trade ever increasing, it was only a matter of time before Halo would live up to the monikers it gained. So too did the decades pass and the World Quest neared its end...

  # # #

  The Mountain shook... again. The third time this week. Were it not for the dampening formations, Halo's alarms would have been pressed to check for faulty readings. Leaving Link to handle the mess.

  A mess he would have honestly rather trade for.

  His mental circuits sputtered. There was so much to handle, but more so how. The Conglomerates were getting brazen; disregarding their sovereignty, Instructors threating to leave due to lack of students, and Halo's own Familial Clans were muddying the waters with their attempts at politics.

  Time. It was only a matter of time, before father found out. The Red War. The Exodus. The Treaty of Eight Gates. The resulting constriction of their main industry, and... the rest of the populous.

  Father might break, the mountain might break. Link writhed at the thought, he could do nothing if such a thing would come to pass.

  And it terrified him.

  He hoped for nothing. He hoped that Father would take his time, preparing in silence and settle with his allies before doing something they all would regret... but the threat of war, and the call for Orbital Bombardment was looking far more likely.

  His processor throttled the calculation, overheating from the lacking coolant and resources. Rushing, but failing it's continuous cycles.

  Link took a breath, steam bellowing out from his rear delts. This was not right, it wasn't time.

  He needed the right moment, not a simulation.

  Or, maybe... he just needed someone else to make the the first attempt. Someone not so obvious...

  Link thought it over, gaining more confidence to set aside the matter. Looking over some reports-- there was an explosion on the southern rim; an Ascendant broke through security on one of their Vandal Ships.

  Confirmed at the Refinement Realm. Techniques estimated to reach Orange, potentially Yellow Rank.

  Link could think but a few people capable of pulling this off, only they were at a much higher realm. Their apprentices, if they had any at all, hadn't shown themselves in decades. Though this was not their style, the mana signatures were way off. Leaving with nothing; he had no lead. No traces. Only footage on the perpetrator... Link frowned, showing his screen.

  These days were not going as well as he expected. Not at all.

  # # #

  Delphine stared, it was impossible not too.

  "You!" Lee exclaimed, pointing. Her eyes wide, mouth ajar. "How?! How did you--" The sword on Lee's waste rang. Silencing the rising green aura.

  The wind blew, a distraction; the scent of wheat and corn in the air. But it was just enough for something to touch their senses.

  Their heads turned, looking towards the rising city of stone, metal, and glass. The mountain beyond-- and they knew, their reward; a guide to this last leg of beginnings. Whatever-- whoever was there, would change their progression through the Realms forever...

  "It looks like we won't be getting an answer." Delphine said, looking to Lee. "Care to hold off till we complete our Quest?"

  Lee, begrudgingly shared the look, he nodded. An idiot not for the moment. Whatever discord they had was secondary.

  They looked on, searching. In need of a suitable road. There was enough attention on them these days, one less than two strangers walking through a field of corn would suffice to do a bit better.

  # # #

  Adam toiled on the overlook. Holographic screens all around, his mana sense traced over the slight texture on the readings. Below, an inverted pillar of wires and pipes funneled to a raised platform from a great bowl, encircled further by seven rings.

  Beneath, the platform; the Anvil. Above, the Flux Forge. The bowl; the Crucible. And the Seven Rings; the Seven Layers of Aegis.

  Each section monitor, sensors linked and adorned with a multitude of formations.

  A pinnacle of his life's pursuits; the Flux Crucible. The catalyst of his many inventions, without it, he wouldn't be half the Ascendant he was.

  Upon the Anvil the Stars came to life, mixing with the endless night. Reality seemed to bend, Laws seemed to screech in the only way they could. An ethereal sheen of colors pulsed with each beat, the excess mana saturated with Laws flaked into the Crucible, stiring on the edges, settling into a chaotic cesspool of distorted mana liquid.

  The Draconic Steel gained luminance; crying out, attempting to ascend further.

  At thirty percent the Flux Forge's arrays had to be adjust. At fifty-one the attunment slowed. At eighty-eight it became a crawl. But, that didn't matter-- nothing else did-- it was working. His final gift would be-- the readings spiked, an alarm tripped. The primary defense array activated. Five Rings lit; a giant holo-sphere enclosed the space.

  BOOM!

  The bellow of a dragon roared. A star's furry birthed a nebula. It's eyes sparkled with a natural wonder; full of malice and uncaring beauty.

  He cherished the second before the force reeled back. Collapsing in on itself, a spiraled hazed as the Crucible was emptied of it's contents. Revealing large but brittled, impure, crystals of mana, fading to the world. Until there was nothing left but the slow hiss of pipes and arrays as the security measures settled.

  Another failure. Not a percentage of improvement.

  Three times. Three times! He pulled a chair from the corner. Letting himself fade in it's cushions. Could I do nothing right...

  The number of failures were not their greatest, but the few bore like no other. Compounding. Weighing down his mind, his very being.

  He stood on the precipice. Deep within, where even the Void was but a hollowed scattering of ideas. The threat of nothing but an empty life showed itself. Irking his mind, pulsing his heart to off beats.

  For what did he have more, what did he have to strive for?

  The question lingered to the world, he hoped, expectantly-- the idiot he was. He stood, disabling the security to the camber. And opened the grand doors, looking through his phone.

  A week... A little pick me up couldn't hurt. He went off.

  # # #

  He forgot. Barley a week and he forgot... to take a shower.

  His clothes reeked coming out to fresh air, the smell made Adam groan in annoyance, and return to one of his quarters. Ascendants at his realm didn't need to go to the bathroom if they were careful with their diet, but no, it would never be for Adam. Never, just as Ascension was.

  He shook it off. Changing his clothes after a warm shower; a plan dull tee, and cargo shorts accompanied the weather forecast. Partly cloudy, with a moderate wave of humidity. A good day to take a small trip.

  The elevator rose just shy of the peak. A bank down the hall lead to a small flight of stairs. The end opened by a simple command. The metal door descended, and the small illusion broke on the bolder's face. Gazing down, the dawn barely broke the brush of tree tops to embrace the waking city. A rocky path outlined by a steep slope.

  Adam set upon the weary trail, his mana reaching deep beneath to hold the earth and stone. Nothing was unsettled, the slope barely a bother. Longing the sights, what once was, before the city, he wandered faint memories; dredging through the forest. Craters and ash long grown green, or filled with his own reclaim. The days then felt too short, and the nights too long.

  But the feelings never ceased.

  Each step down retraced a mad dash-- the first path to the peak, yet it was comforting. Even now... with everything, he felt it. The subtle joy from his old journey.

  He sighed, confounded. It was anything but.

  He remembered, those hectic days. Chasing answers, trailing the tales of old Men; people who never touched mana, yet carried their wayward legends. Barely into the Refinement Realm, journeying Core Realm Territories, and abandoned ruins-- the miracle was, he got away with it.

  If there was anything at all... a lot of duds brought many dead ends. And then, to another tail, another hope...

  His steps took over to the striving cracks of grass. The trees adorned their shade upon old stone, leading down a windy way.

  He huffed, recalling an old pair of owls who chased him through the trees. Their power two minor realms greater than his own, but it was their silence and claws that chased him to the lone peak.

  The end of a forgotten tale, the 'Descending Stars.'

  He expected a death to linger at the top, a Beast within Foundation Establishment at least. It almost cliche then, still is in some ways. But what awaited the peak, was not a Beast, no, there was just... nothing, not a speck of life. Simply a flat bed of brittle rock.

  A night he waited, yet no Beasts came. The second repeated. The third he decided to camp the peak, shielded in formations not of his own; rewards from obscure rifts and some good'ol Auction Houses. Yet still, nothing. But on the fourth night, the tale showed it's worth, and his off-hand thoughts, were proven more right than wrong.

  And he learned, just how dangerous Celestial Mana was...

  He huffed, wetting his lips, the memory of iron upon them.

  A pep in his step, as he continued down the mountain. Reminiscing fragment thoughts; old adventures, buried Men, disguises, and passing intrigue.

  He forgot the hour... the day, and then the week.

  The man ceased drowning by his own hand, and... for the time; as the past came before the present, it eclipsed it utterly, in a warmth that would never fade to a perilous journey.

  Perhaps the one good thing about having a better memory.

  # # #

  It encircled the entire mountain, the fourth measure, but perhaps the longest standing one, at least in planning. The illusion of Titan; yesterday was today, and eccentricity was an obscurity.

  He watched as the illusion rose, a slight simmer on the inside wall. But otherwise? The counteroffensives laid dormant; from a drunken man, to an Array Masters, the interlocking systems dealt with them all. The animals though; the owls, mice, lizards, and the like, were free to go as they pleased. All who knew the mountain had access.

  Which added to his ever growing review; he would have to take some time and trim the white list. But not now, he wished for something light and sweet.

  A brief command revealed a set of stairs, descending into the single end hall. Dim lights charted the path enclosed by countless Arrays, enough to make Ascendants question at the lack of treasure. Security had to be tight-- the end showed another flight, upwards to a thick wall of wood. A flex of mana set the locking array into motion. Opening the way, and revealing a decorative room, and a book shelf wide open.

  Not the most creative hidden passage, but if anyone could even get into this room and align the proper mechanisms, or make it down the hall for that matter, well... it would be the least of their worries.

  He dawned his illusion, and stepped out to the first floor of the apartment complex. A line of quiet doors greeted the sight, the lobby in a similar state. All except for an Android manning the front desk, and a lady, still in her pajamas, getting some mail.

  A yelp echoed as he made way to the waking streets.

  The few men and woman walked in their suites of blacks and blues. But their dreary eyes meant for no polite conversation, the ones that did pass by gave an off-hand leer. Some of their eyes meeting, most of them breaking.

  People... He thought. The same everywhere you go. Still the minutes went on, approaching the half-hour. This is really getting annoying...

  The annoying glances he could deal with, but his breakfast?

  None of the old shops were here?!

  Old quaint bakeries, pass down for so many generations were just gone. Replaced by clothing store outlets, and some kind of noodle shop? One that didn't open for another hour.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  He groaned, taking out his phone to see if they had just moved. The Mananet wasn't helping, so he had to storm their archives for Halo's business ventures. His fears came to life, sinking his gut. Three closed down, one relocated to the outskirts.

  Why?

  The question drowned out most of the city, the records didn't say much other than 'bankruptcy' or 'liquidation.' Strange.

  The thoughts continued old affairs; he never really delved into bureaucracy of things. Stories here and there, libraries; recorded of their local histories and passing volumes for revision.

  His prime sources back in the day. But maybe it wouldn't be too bad to see what came of his favorite shops. If they moved, perhaps some other things in Halo did too. But...

  Eh, a tale for after everything has settled.

  His line was quick, despite the steady pace. Passing by a park, to one of the more "poorer" districts of Halo. Less trees, more grass. The houses lacking pristine uniform materials; more aged brick and motor adorned the streets. Buildings never making it beyond the fourth story stood as old complexes, or warehouses if not. Speckled with a flurry of small businesses each and every way.

  It was a sight. Cozy, but there was a strain. The age, while showing a fine charm in some areas, others... were not so grand. Missing bricks, cracked walls, brittle roofs, chipped sidewalk, the list went on, pausing at some points.

  By the time he arrived at 'Valencia's Pastries,' his mood teetered on worse.

  He huffed, before he entered the shop. A bell rung.

  The small cafe was a contrast to what it once was. Gone were the paintings and flowers, the dozen or so tables of fine cloth. What remained was but the rustic interior, a half-dozen tables, bare of cloth, complimented with similar chairs.

  There was a twingle of remorse within his stomach and heart.

  "Oh, Jackie--" The young woman, Madelina, by her embroidered shirt, looked up from the counter. Her dimples faltered, as her brown hair dropped. A grimace hidden well, just not from Adam. "Good morning sir, can I take your order?"

  Adam look to the chalked up menu above, his frown evident. "Do you not carry Banana Bread anymore?"

  She blinked. "We do, it's one of our special menu items."

  Adam nodded, "Two slices and a glass of milk please."

  Madelina nodded and went into the back.

  Ring.

  The door open.

  "Oh, come on..." A drowsy voice drowned to a mumble. "I was only a few minutes late..."

  Adam, curious, unwanting to bring his mana sense to bear, turned. Seeing the woman stumbled into line, her hair a mess as she tried to fix the loose strands floating into front of her glasses. A wrinkled green jumper pair well with her eyes and jeans.

  "Good morning," Adam said.

  "Hello," she replied. Her scowl, stifled by a yawn.

  He suppressed the chuckle as his food was brought out.

  "Alright, here we go--" Madelina's voice paused as she brought Adam his cake. "Jackie... you're a bit late today."

  "Please Maddie, no one else needs to know." Jackie begged.

  Madelina huffed. "Yeah just us," Her eyes minutely darted to Adam.

  He shrugged it off, summoning his bank card.

  "Oh, no sir. The first customer get's their order taken care of." Madelina's voice seemed to fade as near absently tried to swipe his Black Card.

  Adam looked up, the girl jumped a bit. "It's fine, you can give the lady behind me have the first service."

  She absently nodded, and rang him up. The transaction was swift, and settled.

  His prizes in hand, ready to carry on the day. Only to meet Jackie's eyes, wide and awake, like a dunk in a cold lake. Her posture was upright and blazing, unnerving some might say.

  "Th-- Thank you." Jack said, bowing her head slightly.

  Adam shrugged, "You're welcome." Walking past, turning with a slight smile. "Have a good day."

  The ladies took a bit longer than he thought, their hands waved friendly. But, strained? Confounded?

  He, himself, was confused.

  Ascendant's weren't that rare in this district, were they? He thought, maybe the [Inventory] tripped them up; kids these days weren't offered Authorities like he had once had.

  There was a challenge; the unrelenting battles, illusions, and overlapping puzzles. Especially for the [Inventory]. The System really didn't like to give those away anymore.

  But, well, an old trick would do here.

  He stacked the cakes on his cup, and summoned a grape sized metallic orb. A flex of his mana activated the circuits, eight arms sprouted from the little robot. Four above and bellow, letting it's two heads poke just beyond their surface.

  A thread of mana was extended, and communed with the 'Listener.' A machine not even in the First Realm, yet had the ability to handle general commands. It was a miracle for espionage.

  Even if their creation fell short to the they brought. And... their spotty deployment history...

  Adam sighed. Better than snooping too low.

  He turned and threw the little robot near the sign, putting in a connected earpieces. Side stepping to a nearby alley, taking another bite of banana bread.

  It was as good as he remembered.

  "Connection Established."

  "--n't know Maddie." Jackie's voice came through, though muffled. A pleasant hum was heard between bits. "I haven't seen my grandpa use his in years."

  "But it's the right-- crackle crack--" Adam frowned. Spotty Connection? "--the only one I ever seen."

  "They are for sure rare, I-- zzzzZZZZZ!" The signal screeched.

  "Ah-- fuck!" He swiped out the ear piece with his mana. Crushing it accidentally. Grimacing, as he looked on his phone. A blinking notification plastered the screen, 'Signal Lost.'

  The second piece of banana bread kept him from clenching his teeth.

  Why? The second burning question of the day would not be left unanswered.

  His mana sense spread from the alley, winding it's way to near the glass. Finding the pieces of brass, and charred metal stuck to the side of the building.

  He needed his gloves.

  His [Arsenal] enacted. A single glove of manifested, humming to life with glow of violet. Adam reached out, the Law of Metal came with his sharpened control. Slowly they worked, they wound down the block, and marked the presence of brass.

  Every piece, was drawn. Gaining a thin thread of connection. Once there was no more to gather, he pulled. A blink and the remains of the 'Listener' were in his hands. His mana sense roved over the machine, and came to an approximation.

  He groaned.

  A power surge, well... shit. The problem with intricate components; without the presence of formations or advanced support systems, mana had it's way.

  He never did find a fix, or had the time. His formations too large, the ingrained processor too small. For his targets who had near unparalleled senses, what was more weight in the world of mana, than an anchor dropped in a lake.

  It worked because it was weak. Because it needed to be, and had done it's job at least a few times to prove their worth.

  He sighed, stowing the pieces in his pocket. Taking a calm route on the outskirts.

  There was a park nearby, people already out taking their own treks around the pond. Three runners, none were Ascendants. He looked on; in the comforted of nestled trees was a bench pointed towards the rising sun.

  His breakfast gone, there was really only one thing he could try to do. Relax, and enjoy the morning.

  He watched. He felt. He tried to control his thoughts astray, but were not dissuaded, absent from the mountain's presence. Perhaps they were true in some ways.

  The makings of a man who thought he was destined for a much grander sky, yet the meager remnants of brass in his pocket weighed upon him more than a ton. How much "great" could from such a man? Failing this? Abandoning it all? What more could come of him?

  Adam groaned, leaning back to massage his eyes. "Just what am I thinking?"

  "Does anyone know?" A voice on the wind trailed to his ear.

  Adam flicked his head, his senses ignited, covering the area. Finding two familiar figures approaching.

  He scoffed, relenting his control as Grace and Angelina shared the seat with him. Tossing his only Silencing Disk behind the bench; an invisible ward to keep to themselves, before a word was spoken.

  "How'd you find me?" Adam asked.

  "The sound of your footsteps don't match your height, so it was easy to guess." Grace replied.

  He turned his head, a little shocked, until her expression tugged.

  "You've changed-- a lot," he said. Not believing a word.

  Her fists balled, a groaned escaped her lips as she flopped back on the bench. "You didn't have to ruin the it."

  Angelina stifled a laugh. Grace's snide glare nearly broke her.

  "Link gave us a head's up." Angelina said.

  Adam slumped, his heart heavy. "That boy worries too much."

  "That boy is the Chancellor of Halo," Angelina retorted.

  "Still a boy," he waved her off. The lingering silence was only marked by the poor breaths of joggers, the few rodents; squirrels and chipmunks scurrying about, and lingering with the tune of some song birds. It was, horrible. The tension brought unease, and restlessness within his heart. He'd rather get on with it. "So, I assume you've come to talk about your stance?"

  "I, well... No." Her voice resolute only matched by Adam's swift attention. "We just came to check and see how you're doing."

  Adam gave an offhand sneer. "I'm not some child needing a shoulder."

  "Are you not?" Angelina interjected. "Link said you haven't spoken to him since "you ran away.""

  Adam grumbled. "Where in the hells do you get your confidence? I could wipe you off this planet with a flick of my finger and no one would know."

  The moment where many would second guess their words was not their, and her smile irradiated. Ready. "From my mother."

  "Be serious," his mood growing worse. Grace grimacing.

  "You first." Angelina glared. "Seriously, who threatens to end someone's life like that."

  "Someone you can't do anything about." Adam replied, sighing. "No decency. Back in my day threats were made clear, and were followed."

  "Well, not in this city." She replied, her eyes growing distant. But a tug on her sleeve kept her here.

  "Angi." Grace whispered. "Probably... Link said, "Probably"."

  Angelina relented a scoff. Propping up her head with a hand, an elbow on the armrest. Her eyes off to another distraction; not wanting to meet Adam's.

  Grace sighed. "Anyways... Is everything alright? Was the time in the workshop fruitful?"

  "No," Adam said swiftly.

  "To... both?" Grace asked.

  He blinked, his mind catching up. Gritting a call of self induced idiocy. But for the small voice that yearned to share his troubles won out the moment and took hold. "I've failed Grace, fifty years away and I have few usable insights."

  Angelina's head jerked, but held her position.

  "But I'm sure there just as grand," Grace tried to help with a smile. "How many can do what you do? Knowing what you can do, and make, it's something to take pride in."

  Adam shook his head. "Do you have a lot of students?"

  "Not, really." Her expression strained. "I'm still a bit new to this whole thing-- Angi and I have been working on our model for a few years now, a smaller group or individual secession works well for works best for progress."

  "And during those lessons, had anyone confided in you of their doubt in ability compared to someone else?"

  "Yes..." Graced replied. A creased look upon her brow. "That, and their time."

  "Then, why should I revel in lording when they do not affect me. They are not me." He patted his chest. "And what of those better than me; The Atlan Magus, Ulrika Sov; The Rune Sage, or perhaps, Ester Forbear; Head of the Songsill Council. Each their own legend, their mere existence sparks debates, and insights coveted for a promise of Enlightenment. Even after fifty years, I doubt anyone has kept pace with those monsters, if they haven't already Ascended this plane."

  He turned, "What would you have me do?"

  Now, Grace was frowning. "Having pride in yourself is not the same as lording. Being proud does not mean to let your spirit fall."

  "But to allow one is to allow the other," Adam retorted.

  "No. No it doesn't." Grace countered, resolute. Both glaring at each other. "You can look down to see how far you've come, but the sky is never ending, so their is no need to measure yourself beyond what you don't know."

  He scoffed. "Did you just make that up on the spot?"

  "Why? Was it good, Angi tells me I need to get better at being cryptic with my wisdom." She said, upright with pride.

  Cryptic would certainly be a word Adam would describe the advice. But, as it was? "No."

  "Then you need to clean your ears," she dismissed.

  Adam almost sighed, "Really. Where is the respect these days?"

  "Out with the wind, and flying high." Grace replied, gaining more confidence.

  Oh? This wouldn't do. "I'll send you with the wind, and out of the city the next retorted."

  Grace chocked, paling slightly. Leering in response. He noticed, Grace holding Angelina's hand for support.

  Adam let his breath be. Better. But not in the ways he wished for the time, at least, he didn't worry. Only a bit frustrated.

  "Ugh, Its those assholes again." Angelina muttered. Adam's head turned to her direction, across the pond, hidden between the bushes. A lens shimmered from the pond's reflection. Two men whispered, talking about the pay they would gain from the commission.

  Paparazzi. He thought, but why were they here? For those two? If so...

  "Why are they so brazen?" He asked. The silence was damning. Both of the girls looked tense. "Grace?"

  "Umm-- Uhhh... It's been hard lately, you know on Link and all, much of the Courts are only held for serve Crimes, so them taking photos doesn't warrant an audience than let's say if I break their Camera." She supplied, Adam not liking it one bit.

  "But you're in the Foundation Realm." He nearly sputtered.

  "Not since Edgar Berlg, got fined for nearly the same thing." Angelina supplied, gaining an interest. Though, the name rang a bell. Was he also in the Foundation Realm? Adam sighed, another thing to look into. "Though I think he blew a shop up and injured some people."

  "Did anyone die?" He asked. Angelina to shake her head. "Then it's a non-issue."

  The two shared a look, one that Angelina could scarcely contain her smile.

  "Really," she asked. "Are you going to allow it?"

  Better yet, "I am not fond of those who try to invade the personal lives of others without just cause." He controlled his mana around the device. It's internals linked, a bit of the Metal Law to stick to the inner casing. And then, he crushed.

  There was a yelp from the bushes. The Camera crumbled like a can with no air pressure. The dimwits yelling at each other, before the eyes turned to their group.

  This'll be fun. He smiled, retrieving his Silencing Disk. The two broke the bushes, and began to make their way over. He controlled his mana through the earth, watching each step they took, until, they were half way, their shoes suddenly glued to the ground. The duo fell with a squeal. Grace laughed, though, surprisingly, Angelina was repressing her chuckle.

  Again the duo tried to get up, but their hands were seized to the ground, their knees locked in. A few joggers looked at the scene, curious. One tried to take out their Ruic, Adam broke the internal arrays, causing the woman to fume.

  "Release us!" The shorter, older one, yelled. Specks of dotted his black hair. A tired look in his eyes, no doubt from the sleepless nights of stakeouts. Those eyes bore at Grace like crusading spear.

  "Why you being weird man?" Adam called, the man barely offered him notice. Continuing to glare at Grace.

  "You broke our camera! Holding us down against our will! It's against the law!" No it wasn't, not in this case. You couldn't just let rats plague the system and harass Ascendants like this. It would set a precedent, one that would make people believe they were same status. They were not. That not becoming one, even without a form of guidance, was a choice to make lightly.

  Countless paths exist to Transcendance, a myriad of teachings to reach such heights. From Spirit Scripts, to Weapon insights, to Basic Mana Circulation, and to his own; Law Insights, were just the few to reach Immortality. Though all but two of these teachings were barred from him, he could still make something work. For these men who hide behind laws and paperwork so they could do as they wish?

  A vein ticked in his head, reminding him a very poor time he had in the Quin Empire on Xanadu.

  Adam pressed. The duo's head's fell, and their bodies collapsed, indenting the dirt. Shutting them up.

  He took out his phone and Silencing Disk for himself, making a call.

  "Dad? I know it might of been much but--"

  "Link, I need you to do something." He said. The line went eerily silent. "There are some Paparazzi harassing Grace and the other Foundation Ascendants. Make sure our stance is clear, harassment of this level is not tolerated."

  "I..." Link sighed, like the world less of a burden. Strange. "The people aren't going to like this, the lawyers are going to argue it's against freedom of speech."

  "Link, we are sovereigns of a nation. A small one, but one nonetheless. In a world where we can be swatted like flees, do not let let these shallow greedy minds spoil passion and privacy. Otherwise, we will be bleeding every decent man and woman who's born into this city for distant lands."

  "I understand." Link replied. Calm, but a hint conflicting. "Is there anything else they mentioned?"

  "Is a man named Edgar Bergass still in the city?" He asked.

  "Yes... he still resides in his residence."

  "Send some reparations, nothing too grand. Just let him know things have changed, but to have his temper at least mindful when he's indoors." Hopefully this would do some good.

  "Understood, anythings else."

  "Nope, that's it." Adam cut down the phone and his ward. Standing, turning to the two, "Nothing should come of this, or anymore in the future."

  Angelina beamed. Shooting up to give him a hug. He froze.

  "Thank you. Thank you-- ugh-- you have no idea how much this saves us." She spoke, as he awkwardly returned the hug.

  "Your welcome." He said, as they broke off. Grace standing with a not of hesitation. But they made off down the path all the same, free from prying eyes. "So what's next on your escapades?"

  They talked, planning some courses for some of their new students over the next couple days. Perhaps even brining them out for some sun, rather than just renting a Martial Hall.

  The smiles as they exchanged their hopes for their future freedom, the offer to come as a guest speaker, though gratifying, declined to a very pouty Angelina. But he wasn't just going to waste a cover to be a guest speaker. What for? He couldn't really give any pointers, his Ascension was all Enlightenment and Reinforcement. Nothing kids at this level really need. But still Angelina tried nonetheless.

  They shared a laughed by the end, but as they came upon the edge of another district. Two estranged figures came into view. They eye catching to the passersby, distinctly foreign; a female adventurer studded in fine leather armor burned brighter. Her eyes of amber, the passion and determination clear as the sun. While the other, perhaps even more strange sight, a monk, from Xanadu no less, decked in robes of blues and greens, with a mysterious sword by his hip.

  He paused. His senses heightened to near their max. He could feel it, the hint of saturated Laws. Those he knew, and ones he didn't embedded in the sword with the eben flow of reality.

  What is that sword?!

  By the time he shifted focus they were standing infront of their group, staring at Grace with a hint of reverence.

  "This it?" The boy asked, judging Grace. Instantly gaining Adam's frown.

  "I think, it feels like it. But why would--" Her voice cut off, eyes widened.

  A question on th top of his tongue, then he felt it. The bubbling energy, the ethereal grasp none of his sensors could detected. A force, something grand, something well beyond him looked upon his form and brushed a presence greater than he ever known.

  This feeling...