The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - 13. Chapter 6 Priestess

Priestess: Intuition, insight, secrecy, transformation--ultimately, touching upon hidden truths...

"Let's see how this works." Dawn carefully inspected the bandages again, ensuring that blood circulation to my fingertips was unaffected. Then, she wetted my forearm, helping the cast take shape. "Although the blueprint's still in the database, no one's used this method in centuries. I hope I didn't mess up anything," she muttered, glancing at her terminal.

"It looks close enough to the example in the manual." I forced myself to maintain focus, trying not to let the searing pain in my arm show. "I already feel much better--thank you."

"This goes way beyond toxic masculinity," Dawn said, leaning down to gently cup my face.

"I know..." I murmured, ashamed under the piercing gaze of her gray eyes.

"You can always come to me--don't let that old reptile's opinion hold you back, okay? My door will always be open for you." She sighed, patting my head a few times before turning to clean up the cluttered table.

"What is a 'prototype strain'?" I asked, voicing the question that had been nagging me.

Dawn's movements noticeably paused when the term came up.

"Before genetic engineering was completely outlawed, there were the original prototype strains, the first stable expressions of unique lineages. Most others have been lost to war or other calamities, but the gray wolf's lineage survived," Dawn explained, turning to lean against the table. "These are what most people know as the Seven Factions, originating from seven fertilized eggs. Each was duplicated thousands of times and cryogenically preserved for reintroduction when needed--usually when a Faction's genetic stability reached critical levels." She lifted her left paw to her snout, absentmindedly tracing her palm with a claw. "I, Qana, Willow, Tartarus--we're all prototypes. In a sense, we're time travelers," she added with a bitter smile. "And of course, your parents."

"So prototypes are... clones?" I tried to make sense of the implications.

"Yes, we're clones of our original selves," Dawn said with a shrug. "But epigenetics and random mutations mean there are always minor differences between generations. So thawing a fertilized egg is like opening a mystery box."

"Why go to such lengths?" I asked, though I already knew the answer--it was more an expression of frustration than genuine inquiry. "Did no one notice?"

"You've learned inbreeding and outbreeding depression, haven't you? As I mentioned earlier, no matter how carefully we manage our bloodlines, genetic drift and other factors will inevitably degrade the genotype. Reintroducing ancestral generations is necessary to preserve the carefully selected traits. You of all people know how crucial this is for gray wolves--we literally bear the responsibility of maintaining the old world's legacy." Dawn's tone carried a hint of reassurance. "As for your second question, if those who need to know are aware, it's not difficult to keep those who don't need to know in the dark. Prototypes are only reintroduced every few generations, so hardly anyone notices anything unusual--especially among Snow, who can live to 160 years old."

"If it spans generations, then why...?" I trailed off, my mental calculations revealing some discrepancies.

"Like I said, it's like opening a mystery box. Our 'batch' just happened to be unusually chaotic." Dawn rolled her eyes in self-deprecation. "The fertilized egg for Gray's prototype split after implantation, resulting in twins--Breeze and me. Qana, Willow, and Tartarus, on the other hand, awakened as extraordinarily powerful psychics and were quickly recognized. The Council didn't want our talents wasted solely on 'breeding,' so the Senate had no choice but to thaw another batch." She got up and walked over to the table where she kept the tea bags, setting water to boil.

"Was that... a coincidence?" My ears itched, but I couldn't reach to scratch them. With a sigh of resignation, I extended my consciousness to scratch it--that was the point of this, wasn't it?

"Who knows? Many speculate it's a phenomenon influenced by proximity to the Final Reckoning," Dawn said, setting two cups on the table and sliding one toward me. "All prototypes are guaranteed to be psychics, but this level of power across the board? Unprecedented."

I stared at the steaming cup, deliberating my next move. Then, a stream of water rose from the cup, twisting into a column suspended in mid-air before me.

"It looks a bit like a non-Newtonian fluid," Dawn commented, taking a sip of her tea.

"There must be an easier way." I brought my lips to the top of the column, trying to "drink" the tea without being too clumsy. "Just need a bit more creativity."

"Glad to see you're adapting well." Dawn shrugged. "As I mentioned, while prototypes are always psychics, the strength varies. Psychic abilities constantly remind us how much of this world remains unknown." She placed her cup back on its saucer, clasping her paws around the warm porcelain. "One certainty, however, is that a prototype's abilities are guaranteed to pass down for at least two generations--beyond that, it's harder to say."

"So, that's why Piqsirpoq and I..." I switched to licking the column, which felt even more awkward. Maybe I should wait until it cooled and drink it the old-fashioned way.

"Exactly." Dawn observed my various tea-drinking experiments. "Some might find it unsettling, but you're a hybrid of Snow and Gray, after all." She spread her paws as if the matter were self-evident.

"I don't mind; it's just part of maintaining the bloodline." I wasn't even sure if it was my voice expressing this thought--or if it truly reflected my feelings.

Or perhaps... could I even have genuine feelings? These meticulously selected traits, chosen and imbued in me--were they truly mine?

"There was a tacit understanding at first. No one worried when Qana and Willow grew close," Dawn said, lowering her gaze to her teacup.

"Until my parents..." I whispered, pointing out the obvious.

"Yes, until Breeze and that idiot." Dawn closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "In any case, setting aside all the issues with contaminated gene pools, no one can predict how your psychic abilities will manifest." She waved her paw dismissively. "And the result? Voilà, the most powerful psychic in history."

"What does that even mean?" I asked earnestly, feeling more uncertain about myself than ever.

"No one can guarantee your case can be replicated. Not even your descendants inheriting this level of power is assured--it's all unknown until we have more data." Dawn's suggestion of further experiments sent a chill down my spine, making me nauseous. Every torment I'd endured--potentially inflicted on another unfortunate soul...

For what? What was the purpose?

"At least I don't have to worry about that," I said in as neutral a tone as possible, suppressing my revulsion. "I won't be having children."

"Oh, celibacy?" Dawn tilted her head, folding her right ear. "Or just scared?"

"I..." I hesitated, realizing how much harder this was to explain to an elder. "...prefer males."

"Interesting..." The gray wolf crossed her arms, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "I didn't know that."

Feigning nonchalance, I finished drinking the tea suspended before me.

"I have plans with someone later--I should get going." Remembering tonight's dinner meeting, I was relieved to find a way to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Fair enough, it's getting late." Dawn stood, clearing away our cups before returning with some supplies. "I need to check for infection."

She tied a tourniquet around my bicep and probed my paw. Before I knew it, the procedure was over--either because the painkillers were still effective, or she was just that skilled.

"Next time, we can review the circulatory system and practice blood collection," Dawn teased, making my ears burn at the memory of my prior failures. "Also, though it's forbidden to talk about..." Her voice softened, and my ears perked up at the unspoken undertone. "...it might be time I told you more about them."

I responded quietly before standing to leave, grateful that my broken arms spared me from figuring out where to put them.

On the way to the cafeteria, a small group trailed behind me as usual, their whispered gossip noticeably louder today.

It wouldn't be long before the Academy's gossip boards had a fresh new post.

" That's insane!" Tadao exclaimed, staring at my cast-covered arms in disbelief as he popped a bundle of clover wrapped in seaweed into his mouth.

"Considering I've heard of similar cases, I'm not too surprised. Breaking one's dependency on habitual interaction with the world is a core principle of mastering Domination," Kotetsu senpai shrugged. "Though I agree, breaking both arms is a bit extreme."

"It's as if breaking one arm would be acceptable," Hemp senpai growled under his breath, while the Altai wapiti simply spread his hands.

"When your 'escort' blocked me outside the cafeteria, I overheard some bizarre rumors. Turns out the truth is even more absurd," Tadao mumbled, forgetting the chopsticks still in his mouth. "And you can't even use the med pod? What is this, the Dark Ages?"

"Uh..." I swallowed a few floating balls of mashed potatoes, imagining myself as a colossal planet devourer, while a question popped into my mind. "What's an 'escort'?"

"That's not the point!" Tadao snapped, realizing too late that he'd bitten his chopsticks.

"An 'escort' refers to those who follow powerful psychics. They're usually individuals who can't form their own defensive circle. When they need to leave common safe zones, they stick close to stronger psychics, like small fish shadowing bigger ones, to avoid the Academy's lurking dangers," Kotetsu senpai explained. "It's one of the Academy's unique ecosystems."

"Alright," I sighed, resisting the urge to rub my temples--then remembered my arms were encased in casts, heightening my frustration. "What are these safe zones, then?"

"They're common spaces maintained by group contributions, with capable psychics patrolling to ensure you don't accidentally walk into a micro black hole or something," Kotetsu senpai said, gesturing around the cafeteria. "I occasionally take on such commission, and so does Hemp."

"I always thought that referred only to areas within the tower," I said, scanning the cafeteria patrons and gaining a deeper understanding of the Academy's policies.

"Forget the tower; the Academy itself is dangerous enough. Without a strong defensive circle, you wouldn't even know how you died," Hemp senpai shot me a pointed look. "Who knows? A floor might just erupt with a miniature sun."

Too embarrassed to respond, I faked choking, coughing a few times before swallowing floating water droplets. I seemed to be getting the hang of it--I am the Devourer of Stars, the end of all!

"That's not the point--it's about Richter's arms, isn't it?" Tadao gestured emphatically, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Well, I haven't heard Richter complain," Kotetsu senpai pointed at me with his chopsticks. "Besides, training is inevitable."

"There's a difference between discipline and training, but in this case, I agree with Kotetsu," Hemp senpai said, glancing at the line forming near the cafeteria terminal. "Master Field is known for being strict, but compared to senseless death, which is infinitely worse, his harsh demands seem justified. The mortality rate for psychics is high--around 20% die or disappear within their first year of deployment phase, and the ten-year survival rate is roughly 50%."

"But... this..." Tadao waved his hands again, finally dropping them to the table with a sigh. "This isn't normal," he concluded.

"We're psychics, in case you hadn't noticed. Our existence itself is the embodiment of 'abnormal,'" Kotetsu senpai said mockingly.

I had long suspected tension between the two, perhaps some sort of rivalry--or maybe it was just the season. I preferred not to jump to conclusions.

"Besides, you're an once-in-a-century Seer. The command center will make sure you're well-protected, so you'll never have to worry about dying like an ant in some forgotten corner of the world. Your attitude screams 'privilege,'" Kotetsu senpai snorted.

"Yeah, I can't wait to get orders from the Brigadier General..." Tadao muttered, while the Altai wapiti frowned deeply, baring his flat molars in a show of displeasure.

"Speaking of which," I interjected, feeling a responsibility to diffuse the tension. "Did the nano-drones arrive?"

"They arrived this morning," Kotetsu senpai replied, locking eyes with me. "I pulled a lot of strings for those--you owe me."

Ignoring the obvious implication, I pretended my ears weren't burning and feigned oblivion to the border collie's exaggerated eyeroll. I then turned to Tadao.

"My order arrived too," the red deer confirmed. At that moment, Kotetsu senpai muttered something inaudible, causing Tadao's face to flush beet red.

"So," Hemp senpai mercifully intervened with a loud clearing of his throat, "what do you plan to do with those nano-drones? Don't tell me you've shifted targets for your hoarding habit."

"I don't have a hoarding habit," I laughed at Hemp senpai's teasing. "This is an attempt to deal with inflation."

"Won't this just lead to the nano-drones being speculated on as well?" Tadao asked, sliding the terminal off his arm and swiping through it.

"I wouldn't mind if it did, but I'm more curious about how Richter plans to deal with inflation," Kotetsu senpai chuckled, pulling out his terminal as well. Judging by his satisfied expression, he seemed pleased with the state of his assets.

Hemp senpai squinted at me, his slightly lowered ears pointing forward, clearly waiting for a detailed explanation.

"The current inflation issue partly stems from my previous mass purchase of adamantine, which drove up demand. Another factor is the insufficient supply of goods from the production side. I've already addressed the first issue by adopting self-sufficiency, significantly reducing demand. However, ceasing to take beacon commissions has exacerbated the production shortfall, concentrating resource ownership among the stronger psychics," I explained. Kotetsu senpai tilted his head slightly, while Hemp senpai tapped the table silently with his fingers. "But nano-drones are different. They're consumables and production tools, enabling less-skilled psychics to operate on higher floors, thereby increasing overall output. Additionally, the pending injectors I donated to the infirmary and the quantity about to hit the market should force the release of hoarded nano-drones, initially held for value preservation."

"Not to mention, you control the main channel for importing nano-drones from the Federation..." Hemp senpai murmured, casting a glance at the red deer and the Altai wapiti.

"I wouldn't say 'control' exactly..." I replied, finishing the last of my potato balls. I stared at my empty plate, running a mental simulation of how I'd clean it shortly.

"But why go through all this trouble?" Hemp senpai asked, his brown eyes glinting with curiosity. "You've effectively removed yourself from the market. Supply and demand will naturally adjust, and prices will gradually stabilize."

"This hardly qualifies as 'all this trouble,'" I answered with a wry smile, avoiding Kotetsu senpai's raised eyebrow. "Since I caused the problem, it feels only right to put in some effort to resolve it."

"So it's guilt?" Hemp senpai pressed.

"Partly, yes, but more than that, it's curiosity," I said, my response drawing a puzzled expression from the border collie. "I'm not sure how to explain it, but... isn't trading supposed to be a mutually agreed-upon process where both sides benefit?"

Trying to ignore Kotetsu senpai's knowing smile--unsuccessfully--I flattened my ears against my head to conceal the redness creeping up their tips.

"But why is it that this process, where everyone supposedly gets what they need, often results in such unequal outcomes?" I expanded my consciousness, tidying up the tableware with my Domination while gauging the weight of each item in my consciousness circle. "Why do those who believe in the 'invisible hand' always seem to try to circumvent it? Is that truly logical?" I sent the neatly stacked dishes to the recycling station and wiped down the table. "I want to understand all of this better. Maybe my naive desire for everyone to get what they deserve is ridiculous and idealistic, but through practical experience, I hope to find my own answers."

I was certain that in the days ahead, I'd continue to encounter situations where I couldn't even articulate my questions properly. But I was grateful to know these challenges would only fuel my drive to explore further.

"Isn't it reasonable for those with greater abilities to obtain more resources?" Kotetsu senpai asked. "With ability comes responsibility."

"I agree," I said, opening my consciousness to sense the ripples created by the waves of consciousness in the cafeteria. "But there are many individuals capable in different ways. Yet those who end up with the most resources are those whose abilities are particularly suited to acquiring them. If every psychic--or even every person--were to be considered in the final reckoning, then perhaps our current systems and habits aren't the best strategies for everyone."

"You don't need a high IQ to see that the world is riddled with problems," Kotetsu senpai said, nudging Hemp senpai in the ribs with his elbow, earning an annoyed huff from the border collie. "That probably means another voting is on the horizon. You might even get to vote," the Altai wapiti said, glancing at me and Tadao. "If you're planning to compete for a Council seat, you'd better start defining your factions early!"

"That's too far in the future to worry about. It's better to focus on midterms for now and leave the rest until the deployment phase," Hemp senpai said, checking something on his terminal.

"I never imagined the people controlling the world's trajectory would need to understand literature," Tadao sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Will your arms be an issue?"

"They won't," I replied, Dominating my terminal in front of my face to confirm the schedule for upcoming exams. "I can use Domination for everything, though it can be mentally taxing." With a sharp crack, spiderweb-like fractures spread across the terminal's screen, accompanied by flickering lights and a small burst of sparks. "Also, I need to be more careful with my force."

With a resigned sigh, I stowed the broken terminal, attempting to calm my frustration to avoid further impairing my precision. I resolved to visit the printing room later--perhaps it was time to print a few spares.

"Domination is certainly convenient, but constantly--uh, what's the term?" Tadao gestured to my arms in their slings.

"You mean 'putting on a cast'?" I tilted my head slightly to confirm.

"Yeah. Not being able to use the med pod to heal instantly is hard to imagine." The red deer waved his hands dismissively, clearly struggling to grasp the concept. "How long do you need to keep the casts on?"

"About six months," I estimated. "Using a cast to stabilize an injury is still standard treatment in certain situations, especially where med pods aren't readily accessible. However, it's true that this method is rarely used anymore. Just finding the blueprint in the database took Dawn a lot of time."

"Oh, so Master Dawn created it for you? I thought Master Latent Heat handled it," Tadao said, leaning closer to examine my arm. "I'm considering taking her landscape ecology course next term--if I survive basic ecology this semester. I had no idea she was so multi-talented; I thought the gray wolves were all highly specialized."

"Ecology and medicine both fall under life sciences, which are part of the Gray Faction's preserved knowledge," I explained, unsure whether to elaborate further as my audience exchanged puzzled looks. "For example, biochemical testing and analysis are also within the scope, which is why Dawn also drew my blood."

"Drew blood?" Hemp senpai raised an eyebrow, glancing at my hands.

"Yes, from the back of my paw. Dawn said it was to rule out infection. If that hadn't worked, she might have drawn from my ear or cheek instead--she mentioned it's easier than using the tail vein." A strange itch crept up the base of my tail, prompting a shiver.

"Can we change the subject? This is unsettling," Tadao said, shivering as well, his features contorted.

"You're the one who kept bringing up Richter's arms," Kotetsu senpai remarked, idly swiping through his terminal while propping his chin on one hand.

"Because I care!" Tadao exclaimed, scratching at the skin near his antlers.

Lacking the energy to watch the two stags literally lock antlers in a display of testosterone, I excused myself and prepared to test the twelve-step dishwashing process I'd devised using Domination.

"It's just me, or is it really getting hot in here?" The ferret tugged at his collar, seemingly trying to create some airflow to cool down.

"We're about 20 kilometers deep; feeling hot is normal. There should be air conditioning inside. Just hold on for a little longer," the otter replied, wiping sweat off his brow.

"If that 'little longer' could be little shorter, that'd be great. After all, not all of us are high-level psychics!" Anna grumbled, shooting me a glare.

Awkwardly, I managed a few dry laughs and kept watching alongside the others as one heavy blast door after another slowly opened.

The edge of defensive circle pulsed faintly, separating me from the unbearable heat. But I didn't dare expand my active circle to include anyone else; the precise energy flow calculations required for such a task were far beyond my abilities.

"Finally." Once inside the lab, and with the blast doors sealed shut again, the ferret collapsed onto the floor, rolling around as if trying to cool off on the metal surface.

"Airtight passages connecting the transport pods to the lab would be nice," the otter remarked while brushing through his facial fur and smoothing out his whiskers.

"Make sure to bring that up at the next meeting with Infinity," Anna said as she examined the instruments.

To avoid looking idle, I expanded my consciousness to check the state of the transparent panel at the room's center. Unsurprisingly, it was exactly as we had left it.

"Well then, let's see what we've got today." Anna put on her safety goggles and earplugs, grabbing a panel-mounted terminal.

"It's hard to believe how much progress we've made in just a year. Every ounce of that adamantine was worth it," the otter said, now similarly geared up and reviewing something on the terminal alongside Anna.

I caught the protective gear the ferret tossed at me, then waited for everyone to get ready before signaling our preparations were complete.

"Let's start simple," Anna said. "Circular pattern, horizontal plane, 15-degree inclination, 800 RPM."

Fixing the graphene in position, I used a narrow high-energy shockwave to bombard the structure, trapping ionized particles within a force field.

"Did it work?" the otter asked, clutching his panel tightly.

"Yes, but we already knew that part. Now for the real test," Anna replied, nodding toward me. "Icosahedron, 10,000 RPM."

Following the derived formulas, I adjusted the parameters and completed the waveform structure, allowing the effect to manifest in physical space.

"Oh, the radiant light of Rationalism!" the ferret murmured reverently, letting his panel fall to the ground with a clatter.

"Alan, please, not that stuff," the otter said dismissively, letting out an exaggerated sigh that nearly drowned out the ambient hum. "If you call this a 'miracle,' I'm going to punch you."

"It's just... this is..." The ferret continued in awe, their voice filled with reverence.

"We poured countless hours and built on the work of generations to achieve this. Don't belittle it by calling it that," the otter snapped, his tone sharp despite the trembling fingers betraying their own excitement.

A faint red haze clouded my vision as I blocked out their voices, focusing entirely on Anna's commands. I visualized the directives as precise mental constructs, channeling my will to manipulate matter and alter reality.

I couldn't tell how much time had passed. But when I sensed Anna's concluding directive, I released my consciousness. A sudden wave of disorientation hit me, making me stumble, my vision speckled with dark spots.

As my sight returned, I realized the ferret had caught me. Offering thanks, I steadied myself, adjusted my clothing, and joined the others at the platform. They were all inspecting the transparent panel I had just coated in time crystals.

"...It worked." Anna's voice was quiet, almost disbelieving.

The others seemed similarly detached, staring at the unassuming panel as though mesmerized.

"Quantum computing, infinite encryption, and zero-point energy..." the ferret began but trailed off.

"I think we just changed the world forever," the otter said, attempting to maintain composure but failing. Their quick glances between the panel and their terminal betrayed their shaking paws.

I didn't share their euphoria. My contribution was simply execution; the true brilliance lay in the Alchemical fraction. Even with my limited understanding of time crystals, I knew the potential for applications like those the ferret mentioned could reshape the future in unimaginable ways.

And here I was, witnessing it all. Even more, I had played a role in its realization.

Though time crystals were invisible to the naked eye, I expanded my consciousness to sense the four-dimensional molecules, marveling at their perpetual rotation.

A pure concept, compressed into lattice-defined form, twirling in endless motion.

"Looks like it's good. Let's remove it," Dawn concluded, setting the scanner aside.

I stared at my arms, encased in plaster, took a deep breath, and extended my consciousness. With a dull cracking sound, I tossed the uneven white fragments into the waste disposal chute on the wall.

"It's... strange," I admitted, stretching my arms and repeatedly clenching and unclenching my fists.

"After six months of disuse, your muscles must have atrophied," Dawn commented, pressing lightly on my arms. "At least there's no adhesion. You'll recover with some rehab."

"Hmm..." I murmured, realizing that my control over Domination was now sharper than the use of my paws--a disconcerting thought. "Thank you."

"You handled most of it yourself. I didn't really help much," the gray wolf replied with a casual wave. "Where did we leave off last time?"

"Awakening of the Singularity Generation?" I ventured, glancing at the teacup on the table, attempting to recall how to properly pick it up. Muscle memory, how does that even work?

"Oh, right." Dawn rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the term. "Tartarus was the eldest among us, and his talent became evident at nine years old, causing quite a stir. A psychic stronger than most dragons--the established norms were challenged. The Senate decided to test the potential of the rest of us prototypes as well." She sat beside me, watching intently, possibly amused by my clumsy movements.

"So the Senate thawed more prototypes?" After several attempts with different angles and paw placements, I managed to lift the cup and sip some tea.

"Essentially, yes. Typically, prototypes finish their training at the Academy and then return to fulfill their 'duties' to the Senate, staying out of politics. But our capabilities far exceeded expectations, and the Senate, keen to expand its influence, happily 'compromised.'" Dawn chuckled, making air quotes with her fingers. "The newly-thawed prototypes, however, didn't exhibit the same exceptional abilities as us, so some people started calling us the Singularity Generation."

"That's... an inventive term," I said, placing the empty cup back on its saucer.

"Breeze and I both chose to stay at the Academy and continue our research. That same year, that idiot showed up." Dawn's tone darkened whenever she mentioned Dad. I focused on listening rather than risking any reaction that might provoke her. "To put it simply, they did what brainless young people do. At first, everyone thought it was just a passing fling. But before anyone realized, Breeze was pregnant with you." Her narrative jumped abruptly. Since her expression showed no intent to delve into emotions, and I wasn't one to fantasize about romance, I simply continued listening. "The shocking part is this happened after that idiot returned to the Senate, supposedly accepting his obligations. And yet, he fantasized about them escaping to some undetectable place. The most absurd part? Breeze believed him!" Dawn spat out a string of curses, rubbing her temple in frustration. "Leaving the Academy stripped Breeze of the Council's protection! I can't understand what that idiot was thinking..."

Feeling awkward as Dawn vented her anger about Dad, I scratched my ear, fascinated by how my muscle memory prioritized this action.

"And then it got worse. Molten was conducting some highly confidential research. No one knows what went wrong, but all she was left was thoroughly carbonized remains--standard Academy mishap #8 million." Dawn seemed calmer now as she continued. "The Singularity Generation was thawed due to the genetic degradation of the pedigrees' family, and Molten, along with that idiot, was supposed to provide genetic material for the Golden and German House. All these incidents tangled together, escalating the complexity to unmanageable levels."

The largest pimp in the Sol... Wait, genetic material for the Golden and German House?

"That idiot eventually forced the Senate to exile him," Dawn said, holding her forehead as if recalling a migraine-inducing memory. "The Senate would never allow uncontrollable prototype genes to run amok, let alone the potential for creating an army of psychics. They were bound to act."

I had started recalling the Mercenary wolfhound I encountered at Hadrian's Wall, but the critical terms in her story quickly led me to deduce what had actually happened.

Senate, never, allow, bound, to, act.

The Senate's... will.

"I heard Qana almost wiped out all smugglers in the Americas just to bring you back to the Senate. Unsurprisingly, every faction fought tooth and nail, almost choking on the fur they tore from each other--thank Rationalism I was far away from that circus." Dawn gestured reverently for Rationalism's witness. "You know the rest."

"I suppose..." My thoughts were muddled.

Dawn had clearly skipped many details, and her personal emotions heavily colored the narrative. Yet, for the first time, I had a broad understanding of the story's outline.

"And... my mother?" The word felt strange as it escaped my lips.

"There's not much we can confirm, but we know she lived with the Golden House for a time. No one knows exactly how long, but long enough to bear the Archduke a son. All of this happened before she committed suicide." Dawn looked down at her boots, lowering her snout. "Qana confirmed her death and found no evidence of the Golden House hiding anything."

So... Mother just filled the role of Golden House's genetic material.

What... logic was behind this?

"Anyway, that's the gist of it." Dawn sighed and approached me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm... fine." I tilted my head, searching inward. "After all, my parents are practically strangers to me. Even though everything that's happened to me stems from their choices, knowing or not knowing changes nothing." An unexpected sting crept into my nose. "Besides, how can I even be sure my feelings are truly mine?" I held my tail in my paw, stroking the gray tuft of fur gently. "They're just carefully orchestrated chemical reactions and neural impulses..."

My fragmented sentences sounded choked, even to myself.

Why? I didn't even feel emotional. And even if I were to be sad, what for? For a tragedy that played out over a decade ago with no chance of redemption?

"It's okay," Dawn stepped closer and embraced me. "You're no longer a pawn the Senate can control." I could feel her lightly patting my head. "You will become something beyond what ordinary minds can imagine--a pioneer of unparalleled greatness."

So... comforting. A familiar, safe scent...

Dawn continued speaking, but I found myself unable to focus.

I still couldn't stop the relentless tears from falling. The uneven rhythm of the droplets landing on my fur seemed to fragment reality into disjointed moments. Unable to comprehend my own emotions, I allowed myself to let go amidst the rift in reality--to let go of everything, collapse, and stop thinking--nestling into the only warmth I could find.

The structure of the Tower was both complex and mysterious. Its intricacies were so bewildering that few bothered to investigate the principles or logic behind its supernatural phenomena. Perhaps it was seen as a waste of time.

Yet, occasionally, failing to simply accept things as they were meant missing out on some truly fascinating experiences--like this perpetually burning campfire.

" It should be just right now." I leaned in close, inspecting the marshmallow coated with fine melanoidin, checking its expansion carefully before taking a sniff.

That Snow shrugged, as usual offering no constructive input. He glanced at his own stick, its marshmallow charred black, and then promptly devoured it whole--flames still dancing atop the surface.

"Perfect." Satisfied, I gave my roasted creation a mental score, skewered another marshmallow with Gray Snow, and began roasting it over the fire.

That Snow seemed equally pleased with his handiwork. After finishing his, he dug through his pack, tossed me an aluminum can, and cracked open one for himself.

"What's this?" I cautiously sipped the drink, the bitter tang immediately raising alarms. "Rationalism above, is this beer?" Judging from the smug look that Snow shot me, I guessed correctly. "What are you thinking? This is too dangerous!"

The white wolf rolled his eyes dramatically, faked a yawn, and patted the longsword resting beside him.

"Whatever you said." I grumbled, setting Gray Snow down and crossing my arms in defiance.

That Snow let out a low nasal sound that I assumed was laughter, then, with lightning speed, lobbed a marshmallow at me, hitting my nose.

"Very mature." Before it hit the ground, I caught it mid-air using my consciousness and, after a moment's hesitation, added it to Gray Snow for roasting.

Seeing my refusal to touch the beer, that Snow reclaimed the can and drained it himself, mocking me with a playful tongue flick. After he set the empty can aside with a loud belch, the marshmallow was perfectly roasted.

The white wolf stared at the fluffy cylinder floating before him, cocked his head, and folded one ear down.

"I promise, this won't suppress our psychic link or increase our chances of dying in this Tower," I grinned, taking a bite of my own marshmallow. That Snow responded with a toothy, menacing grin before swallowing his whole. "Not bad, right?" I asked while cleaning Gray Snow.

He simply shrugged and gave an indifferent "mm-hmm."

"I'll take the first watch," I said, sheathing Gray Snow.

Even in this peculiar safe zone, the lack of cover made it hard to fully relax, so we kept a watch schedule.

That Snow voiced no objection. With an exaggerated yawn, he shifted position, resting his head on his pack and closing his eyes. His paw, however, stayed on the hilt of his sword, like a pup clutching a security blanket.

I rested my chin on my knees, watching him silently through the flickering flames.

After learning the general circumstances surrounding my parents, I hadn't spent much time reflecting on it. Whether as a defense mechanism or something more complicated, I didn't care to figure out.

But it did make me reconsider the meaning of "truth."

Was knowing "the truth" really that important? Nothing seemed to have changed because of it. If it didn't matter to me, would it to others? If our lives were woven from countless lies into an absurd play, would the faint slivers of truth--fragile as threads in the wind--be the anchor keeping reality intact, or merely a fool's mirage beckoning us toward an endless abyss?

I sighed involuntarily, pulling out my terminal and activating the camera function.

Whether or not I decided to reveal my identity, knowing who that Snow truly was couldn't hurt, right? If anything, it might help me make up my mind.

It wasn't a matter of trust, just...

I glanced at my shadow, cast and swaying by the campfire, then shifted my gaze to that Snow.

I simply didn't want to lose even this.

Without a sound, I snapped a photo of him.

After putting the terminal away, I rested my chin on my knees again, extending my paws toward the fire to drive away the inexplicable coldness lingering in my palms.

The perpetually burning wood crackled and popped, sending sparks flying--defying explanation as always.

Perhaps, in many cases, things really were just that simple.

Adjusting my posture, I buried the tip of my snout into the thick fur encircling his neck. Gently nuzzling his sturdy shoulder, I realized I had grown accustomed to the warmth and softness of his touch.

He patted my head a few times before stroking down my fur, flattening my ears and running his hand along my back to the base of my tail. Occasionally, he spread his palm to comb through the fur on my tail, gently rubbing the tip.

It tickled.

But I liked it.

The fine, short fur on our chests and abdomens brushed against each other, creating a faint rustling sound as our breathing caused our chests to rise and fall in unison. I savored the tranquility of the moment and discreetly sniffed a few times, picking up a faint, musky scent.

Sensing Kotetsu's subtle nudge, I sat up, ending my position sprawled across him.

The Altai wapiti blinked his large brown eyes twice before nuzzling my neck. Then, a few binary beeps sounded as he removed my collar, placing it on a small table that had just materialized nearby.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I wasn't trying to complain, but he was noticeably distracted today.

"The final exam of beginner course of Dominate-Smithing--I need someone to practice with," Kotetsu senpai said, his gaze wandering to the floor. "No herbivore has sufficient Domination skills, and people from the Asteroid Alliance and the Lunar are clearly very sensitive about the idea that I might--just might--manage to craft a complete adamantine weapon."

Frustration laced his voice, and it was a feeling I knew all too well.

"Can't Hemp senpai help?" I asked cautiously, without any other implications.

"Do you think I should ask an Imperial noble?" He sighed and leaned back, resting the back of his head on the chair's top.

I was momentarily speechless, a mix of odd discomfort and warm reassurance welling up inside me. Noticing Kotetsu senpai's intention to stand, I climbed off him.

"Would you be willing to help me?" The Altai wapiti rose, the chair he had been sitting on retracting into the floor.

"Sure," I replied, seeing no reason to refuse. "Master Field taught me some basics, though it's still very rudimentary. He seems to be a bit more satisfied with me lately..."

"That sounds promising." Kotetsu senpai gestured a few hand signals, opening a compartment in the floor. A silver ingot floated upward.

"What's the exam topic?" I asked as I extended my consciousness, aligning with Kotetsu senpai to form a merged domains.

"Shaping through Smithing," the Altai wapiti said softly, his gaze distant as he stared at the adamantine ingot floating before him.

"Oh, just shaping? That should be easy," I said, but Kotetsu senpai's reaction quickly made me realize I sounded too enthusiastic. "I mean..."

"No," he said slowly, locking eyes with me. "I think I've told you before--talent is just the way it is. If you can't accept it and spend all your time brooding over it, you'll never move forward."

"Yeah... that's true," I replied, scratching my ear. "Are there any restrictions for the exam?"

"You mean shaping targets?" Kotetsu senpai shook his head lightly. "While there's no specific requirement in exam, but my ultimate goal is still to smith an adamantine weapon, so I'd like to aim in that direction during practice."

"That makes sense." Using Domination, I lifted the adamantine ingot, feeling the unique pulses it sent rippling through my consciousness. "What kind do you want?"

"Well," Kotetsu senpai chuckled, stepping closer to sketch out shapes in the air with brown-colored trails. "Do you know what a wakizashi is?"

I licked the tip of my nose, savoring the salty warmth carried by the wind. The sand beneath my feet had been heated by the sun and felt pleasantly warm. Extending my consciousness, I focused on cleansing myself--now I could distinctly sense every grain of sand. Without sufficient concentration, it was easy to get lost in the vastness of the sandscape.

"... Your treat!" Piqsirpoq suddenly raised his voice, pulling my attention back from the expansive sea of sand.

"Alright, fine." I shook my head, trying to catch up with the conversation. "How do you manage to eat so much every time?" I slipped my boots back on, grabbed my clothes from the palm tree trunk, and gave them a firm shake, ensuring no unwelcome guests were hiding inside--last time, an unknown sting had caused my neck to swell for three days.

"Food bought by others goes into a separate stomach." Piqsirpoq pulled his head through his shirt's neckline, ignoring my skeptical glance at his logic. "Will you come to this year's party? Hunter said he's preparing a surprise."

"Maybe I'll make an appearance if nothing unexpected happens," I answered cautiously, not wanting to sound too disinterested.

"We're going to be senior mentors. Feels like we just got here at the Academy yesterday!" Piqsirpoq exclaimed, his excitement unshaken by my reserved response.

"It really has flown by," I agreed, scratching my chin as memories of jumping into the wormhole resurfaced.

While waiting in the transport pod, Piqsirpoq hummed a tune softly, his tail and ears swaying subtly to the rhythm.

"Do you think there'll be any Snow among the freshmen?" he asked lightly, his words carrying a distinct rhythm. Was it from spending too much time with dragon?

"Probably not," I replied. I didn't recall sensing any psychic-related waves from others, though I rarely interacted with them anyway. "The list comes out next week. We'll see then."

"And there's still the finals..." Piqsirpoq's tone carried a hint of frustration, though it didn't disrupt his overall upbeat demeanor.

"Why are you talking like that?" While I'd grown accustomed to the dragons' sing-song cadence, hearing Piqsirpoq adopt it felt peculiar. Perhaps I hadn't noticed earlier because it was too noisy, but when did he start doing this?

"Ah, you noticed!" he said excitedly, his tail wagging rapidly. "Isn't it cool? Adds a mysterious exotic flair!"

"Uh..." I scratched my ear, unsure how Master Field would react to such a statement. "You're actually pretty spot-on--the tone and rhythm are correct--but it feels forced if you think of it that way."

"You just don't appreciate it," Piqsirpoq barked, punching my upper arm. "Plenty of wolves think it's elegant. I got compliments at the last gathering."

Noticing a certain emotion in his tone, I tilted my head toward Piqsirpoq, folding my right ear down.

Dawn had mentioned that individuals with prototype bloodlines were often attracted to those from other factions, likely a genetic mechanism to encourage diversity.

"W-What are you doing?" Piqsirpoq punched my arm again, turning his head away with his arms crossed, staring at the transport pod wall. The tips of his ears, however, were so flushed they glowed through his fur.

I wanted to joke about "like father, like son," but the weight of "Not everyone enjoys the same 'privilege' as you." hit me hard.

His reaction not only confirmed my suspicions but revealed how Piqsirpoq viewed his feelings. I finally understood what Qana meant. Regardless of fairness or the complex political systems behind it, the sense of relative deprivation was very real.

And I, of all people, knew exactly what it felt like to be a wolf whose mere existence was deemed wrong.

So I stepped closer, letting our shoulders brush, and lightly draped my tail over his.

"Knock it off..." he muttered in a half-complaining tone, though his body gradually relaxed, and his ears flattened against his head. "I know the rule, no plans to screw up." His voice was barely audible, but the waves emanating from him conveyed those silent words clearly. "Haven't made them all eat shit yet..."

We stayed like that, leaning against each other, until the transport pod neared its destination.

"I need your help with something." Remembering my earlier decision, I straightened up and stepped back slightly, pulling my terminal from my arm. "Help me find someone--a Snow."

I opened the album and displayed a photo of that Snow I had taken earlier, handing the terminal to Piqsirpoq.

Senior cadets typically spent most of their time in their mentors' labs and rarely mingled with others. I wasn't one to attend gatherings like those hosted by Snow or the Senate wolf. After several unsuccessful attempts to spot that Snow in the cafeteria, Piqsirpoq seemed like my best bet for a lead.

At least figuring out who he was would be a good first step, right?

But no matter how much I tried to rationalize my jumbled thoughts, I wasn't prepared for Piqsirpoq to freeze completely, staring at the screen in silence.

"Uh..." I cleared my throat to prompt a response, hoping to get some reaction, but he remained motionless. "Is something wrong?"

I forced myself to appear patient, waiting for Piqsirpoq to speak.

"Why..." When he finally moved and began to speak, I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, momentarily worried he might have had a heart attack.

But, like Piqsirpoq, I wasn't prepared for the words he was about to say.

"... Why do you have a photo of Dad?"