Storm Wolf: Tranquil waters - 46. Chapter 10 - Cirrus clouds 10.2

I followed the path displayed on the terminal screen, choosing the correct corridor.

Why doesn't the Senate have apps like this? Is it because every other wolf has perfect navigation skills except for me?

I sighed, trying to shake off the annoying thought while contemplating the scope of universal design.

Standing in front of a sliding door that didn't look special in any way, I glanced down at both ends of the hallway and saw no one.

Alright, here's my first stop.

The control panel on the door was glowing red, indicating "Do Not Disturb," but I knew the master had preset it to allow me access. I took a few seconds to steady my breath before stepping forward. The door silently parted to both sides.

What greeted me was books--books bound in paper everywhere. Every wall-mounted shelf was packed with books of various colors, and large stacks of books covered several tables. The entire room resembled a fortress constructed of books.

Despite the overwhelming number of books, the room still reflected the owner's meticulous nature. All the books on the shelves were grouped by the color of their covers and arranged in order of visible light wavelengths. Even the piles on the tables were neat, sorted from large to small, and each book's edge aligned perfectly with the others. The fortress of knowledge seemed unusually... orderly.

"Good, you're punctual," Master Takahashi said, standing up from behind one of the desks laden with heavy tomes. "I was a bit worried that popping up at inappropriate times was your natural style."

The bighorn sheep wore a matching khaki shirt and trousers, with a woven vest dominated by earthy-toned diamonds. His horizontal pupils still made me uncomfortable, and I couldn't quite tell what his emotions were.

Before I could open my mouth to apologize for the earlier mishap, Master Takahashi waved a hand, dismissing my gesture and motioned for me to sit in one of the few chairs not occupied by books. He took a seat across from me and pushed aside a small stack of books that stood between us.

"I was provoked by Sunflare, which led me to act inappropriately. If anyone should apologize, it's me." Master Takahashi clasped his hands, resting his elbows on the desk. "So let me apologize for my lack of professionalism, and let's get straight to the point. Do you agree, Richter?"

I hadn't expected it to unfold this way, but I couldn't find any reason to object.

"Yes, Master," I said in a compliant tone, lowering my ears and gaze.

"Are you familiar with... the situation in the sol?" The bighorn sheep asked, staring directly at me--or so I thought.

"I know what's covered in class," I answered honestly. "I'm not particularly interested in the power struggles between political entities."

"The canines control Gaia and Hermes, Ares is ruled by herbivores, the asteroid belt is loosely held together by dragon tribes, and the Lunar accepts everyone." He spoke slowly, as brown, faint etchings formed in the air to illustrate his point. "The asteroid belt sells rare metals, water, or methane ice to the inner planets in exchange for organic products difficult to produce on asteroids. Gaia, having been developed much longer, is resource-depleted, making the canines more dependent on trade with the dragons. Besides that, they're also at the mercy of the Lunar's helium-3 exports and the need to tether mined asteroids to the Lunar."

The master drew a complex map of the sol, showing the trade and supply relations between the factions, using different types of lines to represent them.

"The Canine Empire isn't pleased with having its position of dominance challenged and is deeply wary of the rising Arian Federation. While the Federation is rapidly expanding, the Empire resembles a crumbling tower at dusk. If the canines wish to continue their expansion, their first step would be to break free from the Lunar's constraints. However, any overt act of aggression or annexation toward the Lunar would force the dragons, who previously stayed neutral, to break their silence." He added a scale to the space etchings, placing the various forces onto it. "Thus, balance is maintained, ensuring that no one side can gain too much."

I knew this--Aether had explained what "win-win" was.

"But... a new variable has appeared." The master said, tracing his finger across the stars. "The dragons will likely colonize Zeus within fifty years. The Federation's option of fully transforming Ares into Gaia-like conditions is gaining popularity, and they've started producing... weapons." He paused for a moment and shifted his focus to the Lunar. "The pro-Empire faction in Lunar continues to grow with no signs of slowing down. Sooner or later, the London House will have to accept this reality." He placed both hands on the table, leaning slightly toward me to emphasize his words. "As we approach the final reckoning, it's unimaginable that more powerful 'Singularities' will appear with increasing frequency. And as previously known, these psychics are far more likely to emerge among carnivores."

The master waved his hand, dispelling the etchings.

"Even if not all Singularities choose to side with the Empire, the imbalance of power among psychics is already apparent. This naturally strengthens the motivations of Council members to secretly push their factions to develop more extreme and powerful firepower." He sighed, revealing a hint of weariness. "And of course, they have."

"So, you want... me to side with the Federation?" The direction of this conversation was becoming clear.

"Rationalism above all--what do you think?" The bighorn sheep seemed irritated. "Join us and help restore the delicate balance, prevent war!" His voice grew more animated. "Right now, every political entity is trying to strengthen itself, driving a false sense of prosperity!" The bighorn sheep leaned back in his chair, his face darkening. "Expansion can't go on forever. There's a limit to all of this."

He looked up, and I followed his gaze, noticing the ceiling--an endless expanse of barren red soil.

"We're like a ship caught in a gravity well, trying to stay in orbit." He lowered his gaze, focusing back on me. "All we can do is pour more fuel and energy into keeping our speed up, desperately trying not to crash. But the faster we go, the more momentum we gain, and the greater the destruction when we finally do crash. That day, when we exhaust everything we have, is inevitable." The master tapped his fingernail lightly on the table twice before continuing. "We've already passed the point of no return. So all I can hope for is to delay the inevitable large-scale destructive conflict until after the final reckoning."

"What happens after the final reckoning?" I seized a moment to ask while the master paused to catch his breath.

"Creation," he smiled wearily, "and destruction."

That sounds reassuring, doesn't it?

"We will be permitted to explore beyond the sol, to voyage into the infinite universe and search for answers among endless opportunities," Master Takahashi's face took on an expression reminiscent of pilgrims described in history books. "All questions will be resolved because the outside world is so vast, it makes all problems seem small and insignificant."

Permitted...?

"Of course, the fall of Ares is inevitable." He raised his eyes again, looking at the ceiling. "What's the significance of a giant rock full of red sand when there are countless habitable planets in the universe?" He chuckled bitterly twice, and I could hear the sadness and... determination in his voice. "But the people of Ares are the true pioneers!" His gaze was still somewhat detached, but his voice remained firm. "Unlike the asteroid Ceres, which was nicely managed by the Darkfang, the Federation is the one that built civilization step by step from the red sand. If we--yes, I say we--are to, as a collective, leave our little world and take the first step toward... the final frontier," the master chuckled to himself before quickly continuing, "the experience of Ares' colonization, and its resilient people, will be indispensable!"

I felt a strange sense of floating, of surrealism. This must be how it feels when you never care about the world's developments, and then one day, you find yourself an important player--or pawn--in a complex situation.

"You've already proven your strength, so I won't insult you any further." The bighorn sheep waved his hand over the table, probably to show that this was all he had left. Although, no matter how naive I might be, I probably wouldn't believe him. But maybe... things really were that desperate, and the master had decided to take one last gamble?

I locked eyes with the bighorn sheep and felt like he was genuinely saying this to me--though, it's possible I just couldn't see through the complexity of his schemes.

I figured that if I stayed at the Academy for even one more day, I'd become incredibly paranoid. I couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if I stayed in this environment for six years.

"I understand that it's completely unreasonable to expect you to side with the Federation when you'd gain absolutely nothing from it." The bighorn sheep adjusted his posture in the chair before continuing, "And besides, as your mentor, I'm probably the least suitable person to guide you--it would be a total waste of your potential. So, even though I hope you'll stand with the Federation, I have to admit that would be the worst possible choice for you."

"I didn't--" I began to protest, but the master cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"I hate seeing potential go to waste. And with the right training, you could absolutely have a massive impact when the final reckoning comes," he explained. "All we need is a delicate balance, to maintain peace, at least until the final reckoning begins." He tilted his head slightly. "So if you were to choose Dawn, who completely avoids worldly affairs, or Field that no one bearable, either one could still fulfill my goal. They could train you to become the most powerful psychic to ever exist. In that case, you'd have my endless gratitude and friendship of the 'Vanguard'."

I could easily guess the second part of his statement--a carrot in one hand and a stick in the other.

"The Sunflare, without a doubt, could also train you well, but the 'Supreme' faction he lead... Let's just say, it's no good for any of us. The ghost of fascism can never be fully laid to rest." I had a vague idea that Master Sunfire wasn't exactly the most charming or popular leader, but I hadn't imagined it would be this bad.

"And what if... " I couldn't make sense of this chaos; I hated social interactions! "...I choose none of them?" I toyed with the fantasy of remaining neutral, though I didn't need Hemp senpai's reminder to know it wasn't possible. I just wanted to say something--anything--to create the illusion that things weren't completely beyond my control.

"That would be the worst decision," Master Takahashi casually waved his hand near his forehead, clearly indicating that even considering it was foolish. "Even if you didn't mean to, it would be seen as aligning with the Empire. And everyone can tell the Senate faction hasn't even decided how they see you yet, let alone the other canine."

Well, it seemed my options had rapidly dwindled once again.

"Thank you for being honest with me about all of this." Noticing the time, I decided to say what I needed to. "I still feel I owe you an apology, Master. I could have handled that situation better." I stood up, lowering my ears and tail as I bowed my head.

"I'm quite sure Sunflare influenced me. I was careless." Master Takahashi must have noticed the time as well and signaled that I could leave. "When the final reckoning begins, we'll need every psychic we can get," he said, his tone once again detached. "Someone of your caliber--if you're absent then--well, the loss would be unimaginable. So, I hope we can reach mutual understanding and forge a friendship."

I took my leave, maintaining my posture toward the bighorn sheep as I backed toward the door. When the sliding door finally opened, I stepped out of the master's office.

As the metal door closed at last, cutting off the gaze of those horizontal pupils, I allowed myself to relax and let out a slow, deep breath. I quietly chewed over the master's emphasis on the word "absent" in his final remark."

"Have you ever wondered why psychics exist?" Master Sunflare asked, sitting in a position I could only describe as 'enthroned' across from his desk. "Power." The word left the dragon's mouth, followed by a trail of white smoke, and I was sure his scales were faintly glowing, like red-hot metal. "Power is only bestowed upon those who are truly worthy."

The 'lair' of Master Sunflare was close to what I had imagined--various complex and intricate devices scattered around the room, occasionally humming with activity. If you looked a bit closer, you'd notice all sorts of strange objects placed rather haphazardly. I couldn't even begin to guess their functions, though their appearance alone was fascinating.

"From our limited interaction alone, I can tell you're not being treated the way you deserve." The dragon tilted his head, staring at me with one eye. "Not that I can blame them," Master Sunflare spread his claws slightly. "Survival instincts let creatures know that you are on an entirely different level." His spindle-shaped pupils contracted within the golden-red irises, becoming even sharper. "'We' are your true kin, and I believe you know that, too."

The room was warm, and the dragon's heated breath only added to the temperature. Yet, the message Master Sunflare was trying to convey chilled me to the bone.

I suppose the only silver lining of this "conversation" was that Master Sunflare clearly didn't require any response from me.

"Those with power are the ones who truly shoulder the world, no matter how much those self-important fools like to delude themselves." As Master Sunflare scoffed at the "self-important fools," a small puff of flame shot out from his nostrils. Did I see that right? "Power creates order, order maintains rules, and rules dictate how the world should run. Without rules, the masses would be lost; without order, a blind world would fall apart." At first, I didn't quite grasp it, but Master Sunflare had just blinked his nictitating membrane. "Therefore, it is the responsibility of those with power to lead."

I could withstand his scorching gaze, but I saw no point in matching it, so I shifted my attention to the long spear mounted on the wall behind him. Its appearance was exceedingly plain--no decorations, no ornate structure--just inscriptions running from the handle to the spindle-shaped spearhead.

It was clearly an adamantine weapon; even sitting here, I could feel a faint resonance emanating from it.

Thinking about it carefully, it would actually be strange for a shape-shifting weapon to have any decorative structures on it, wouldn't it?

"...So, I think we can understand each other." Master continued in a melodic voice, the only thing preventing me from falling asleep after his long, repetitive speech about the duties of those with power. "You want to 'build' with your abilities, don't you?" The dragon straightened his posture, reminding me of how imposing his figure was. "Let me be your guide. I will show you how to raise a tower with unparalleled will, a tower that reaches the heavens." He dragged a claw across the desk, the melody of his voice forming images in my mind.

A slender wolf and a towering dragon, one as white as snow, the other as fiery as the sun, standing side by side at an unattainably high place, so high that the stars could be touched with a mere glance upward. The world trembled at their feet, and the rules bent to their will, pleading for their mercy.

I could become anyone.

This was the future that could be forged through a partnership between the most powerful psychics of the age.

I glanced at Sunflare standing next to me. He looked back with burning gold and red eyes, giving me a satisfied smile. The dragon unfolded his massive wings, showing me the boundless sky and what true freedom meant.

Longing to fly, I was just a step away from taking the leap. But... it was so cold.

It was only now that I noticed the biting chill in the howling wind. I rubbed my arms, trying to warm up, but failed miserably. A place high enough to touch the stars would naturally come with its own loneliness and freezing cold. As I shivered uncontrollably from the low temperatures, I could finally hear the faint sound I had been ignoring.

Looking down, I saw them... tiny, like grains of dust. The living beings at the bottom... crying out.

They struggled, fought, and tried to climb upward, but no one could reach it--not because they weren't strong enough. This tower was never meant for them--it was simply because they weren't worthy.

I glanced at Sunflare again, and he didn't even understand what I was looking at. The stars sparkled behind him, and if I wished, I could stand at the summit, becoming someone everyone could only look up to.

Turning, I caught a glimpse of my own white tail--perfectly pure without a single blemish. Smooth, pristine fur, flawless to the point of seeming unreal.

Is that how you see me?

"My apologies, Master Sunflare," I said, meeting his golden-red eyes. "No matter what I might build, I want it to be among those who need me... not above them." I didn't know where I found the courage to keep speaking. "I think we are fundamentally different people who can't understand each other."

I braced myself for the towering dragon to explode in anger, but he merely shrugged and settled back into his... throne. Yes, just by moving, Master Sunflare added decor to his surroundings.

"You're still young, full of all kinds of sentimental, childish fantasies, but that's fine. Everyone was young once." He blinked his nictitating membrane again. "After you spend a few more years wallowing in the real world, you'll come back to me." He gave me a toothy grin, revealing a row of sharp white fangs. "Long-lived dragons are the most patient beings in the sol."

Once Master Sunflare allowed me to leave, I stood and resisted the burning gaze on my back as I made my way to the sliding door, more of a tactical retreat than anything else.

"Oh, and one more thing," he called, his voice filled with such genuine emotion that I didn't dare look back. "I'm sure of it, Richter," he sang directly to my soul, resonating in the deepest part of me. "We are absolutely kindred spirits."