"Akira POV: "
Can I face the repercussions? No, it doesn't matter. I know I can trust Chris! I can do this. These thoughts raced through Akira's head as he slowly floated down towards Christopher, using his flame jets.
He had already proven he was an Astra, so his next words, he chose wisely. Akira mustered his strength and spoke.
"I'm going to tell you, my friend... the truth about the Astras."
An awkward silence followed.
Christopher was speechless, his dark gray hair falling partly over his face, with bangs framing his eyes.
His expression, however, was cold. His black eyes pierced right through Akira, holding eye contact for a brief, tense moment. Then, with a curt "Tsk," Christopher turned and began to walk away.
Akira's hope plummeted. But then Christopher spoke.
"Tomorrow, after school. My house. I've sent the location to you. Dont be late. "
Akira replied, relief surging through him, "Sure! Yes!"
He headed to his apartment that evening, feeling as if a significant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. What would happen tomorrow? Guess I'll have to find out, he thought.
Vecta POV:
Vecta was back in the military camp, the memory vivid and nauseating. They had forced him and the other cadets to kill toddler mana beasts as children.
He had never wanted to kill them, but to ensure his own survival, he had mustered his meager strength, tightening his grip around the knife handle. He stepped forward and struck the horned rabbit in its abdomen.
With a shallow squeal that slowly faded, it fell limp, then disintegrated into fine dust that blew away in the wind. However, unlike the remains of the mana beast, no bigger than his head, which faded, the blood on his hands stayed. He remembered gasping for air, hyperventilating, wanting to puke after killing the infant mana beast.
The memory of his early years as an Astra—a mere dog of the military—disgusted him. It was a constant reminder of why he was going to tear down this rotten Astra society.
"Boss, boss, hello?" Asher's voice cut through his reverie. "What do you want me to do with this one?"
Vecta snapped back to reality to see Asher, already having beaten down the two thugs who had attacked them.
From their decent physiques, they were clearly grown men. Simple thugs who didn't know their place.
He replied, a sneer twisting his lips, "Tsk. Just kill them already."
He had convinced himself that killing a human was no different from killing a mana beast.
He had convinced himself that all life was equal and therefore insignificant—a twisted way to justify his killings and live with the blood on his hands. He had already slain too many people; there was no turning back.
He was going to bring down Astral society and expose the military for what they'd done, if it was the last thing he did.
"Akira POV: "
The next day after school, Akira went over to Christopher's house for the first time. He lived in a mansion, a fact that made Akira feel a little jumpy and out of place.
Christopher had never acted stuck up, or worn expensive designer clothes, or even arrived at school in a private car, so this opulence was unexpected, to say the least.
It was a glamorous two-story mansion, almost as big as the school itself. As they reached the front door, Christopher stopped and spoke.
"Before we go in, I should tell you this, my name is Christopher—"
Akira interrupted, a playful smirk on his face, "I already know that, stupid."
Christopher continued, a hint of amusement in his eyes, "Christopher Saphelle."
Akira's smirk vanished. "Seriously!?"
The Saphelle name. It was the name of the two genius scientists who, eight years ago, were considered the first to successfully harness mana through technology.
Their corporation had bloomed with advances after meteors had struck Earth on all continents, causing minimalistic destruction due to the planet's defenses but wiping out almost half a billion people.
Unknown to the world, the mana they harnessed had been used in the medical field, curing cancer, which was actually a mana disease. But the medication and cure had since been lost, along with all their research.
That explained why he was so loaded; his parents' company was still operating, attempting to recreate the cure.
'Wait', Akira realized, that would also mean Christopher's parents are dead. He felt a pang of sympathy for him, growing up without parents; it wasn't easy.
He was about to offer his condolences when Christopher opened the door and gestured for him to head inside. His house looked enormous from the outside, but the spaciousness on the inside made it seem even bigger.
Akira followed Christopher up a grand staircase that mirrored another on the opposite side of the living room, and into Christopher's very classy and sophisticated room.
The walls were painted in a deep, unsaturated aqua color, and instead of modern tech, a massive, ornate bookshelf filled one wall, brimming with volumes. The room exuded an air of quiet intellect.
"My office is in another wing if you need to access any of my more advanced technology," Christopher explained, seemingly anticipating Akira's curiosity about a lack of obvious tech in his personal space.
Akira began to explain everything about Astral society to Christopher.
He started by clarifying in today's Astral environment, individuals weren't chosen to be superhuman; it was simply random, with no scientific investigations having found any evidence to prove this theory wrong.
To keep these random superhuman appearances under control, the government and the U.N. had implemented measures. Civilians and criminals who randomly became infused with astral energy, known as "mana," were hunted down and captured.
If they are not minors, these Astras were sent out into field dungeons to slay mana beasts, under the guise of being part of a special military force, willingly fighting to protect humanity.
The public saw them as heroes, as champions who fought to protect humanity, when in reality, most of the time, they were ordinary civilians who were captured and then forced into this life.
Akira's voice tightened as he continued, recounting his own experience. In his case, and for others who awakened their astral powers at a young age, they were then taken into custody by the authorities, who promised to protect them, to help them control their power, and then send them back to society.
….
But they lied! Those were all just filthy lies!
The authorities had kept him there for almost six years, abusing him with brutal training regimens. This "training," catered towards adults, would severely traumatize younger Astras.
These weren't just training regimens. They were the very way by which the government made weapons out of these superhumans.
The militants hadn't cared; they allowed this child abuse to continue. Then, almost three years ago from their current discussion, a certain batch of young, promising Astras had broken out of military containment.
This was Akira's sector. From what he gathered, he was the only survivor.
"Christopher POV:"
Christopher sat silently and listened to everything his friend had to say, his analytical mind processing every detail. He wasn't sure whether to offer comfort or simply let Akira speak.
After Akira finished explaining Astral society, Christopher asked the first, most logical question that came to mind.
"Why? Why tell me though? A person you've known for half a year? This sounds incredibly dangerous, and I have no reason to get involved."
Akira replied, "The Director simply advised me to ask you for help."
Christopher's brow furrowed, a silent question in his gaze.
He mentally replayed everything Akira had just shared—the dangerous nature of the authorities, the forced "heroes," Akira's escape, and the corruption inherent in the system.
Christopher had already been extensively researching the mysterious circumstances surrounding his parents' demise and the disappearance of their groundbreaking mana research. He had hit countless dead ends, the official narratives opaque and unsatisfying.
Akira, sensing Christopher's deep contemplation, then leaned forward, his voice low and earnest.
"Look, I know this is a lot to ask, but by fighting back against the government and their ways of corruption, we can expose their secrets. And if we do, we might find out how and why your parents died, along with what really happened to all their research."
Christopher's gaze sharpened, a flicker of raw purpose igniting in his black eyes.
Akira's words weren't just a proposal; they were the missing piece, the unexpected lead in a cold case that had consumed his every waking hour.
Akira was an Astra, a survivor of their system; he was the key. He had access to information, to experiences, Christopher could never uncover from behind a computer screen or in archives.
Christopher took a deep breath, a strategic decision solidifying in his mind. He looked at Akira, a newfound resolve in his eyes.
"Tell me, Akira. What do you need me to do? How can I help you, and others like you, against these authorities and their 'heroes' ?"
Akira then clarified that a vigilante would be more accurately described as a Astra who didn't enter gates to defeat mana beasts, but rather protected civilians from other threats, or even from Rogues; Astras who used their power as they wished, bringing mayhem and destruction, who often harmed civilians or worse.
Akira continued, "Look, I can't do this alone. I need someone to watch my back. You won't even need to be there man! I promise! And if stuff gets too dangerous I'll put your safety before my own."
Christopher chuckled. "So what? You want me to be your 'guy in the chair' ?"
While it seemed like Christopher was not tempted by his reaction, this was all but true. Desperation for answers concerning his parent's deaths was knawing at his resolve to say no.
After all; he'd already known that the government was hiding something concerning their deaths. This talk just made that crystal clear to Christopher.
Christopher extended his hand towards Akira's for a handshake.
"Sure. I'll do it."