 
D. J. Hoskins

Paragon

The Dark Light Series (Book 1)
First published by Tales of Romance Press 2020

Copyright (C) 2020 by D. J. Hoskins

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: B082VHJYT8

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy  
Find out more at reedsy.com
TO ALL THE LOVERS OF SCI-FI AND FANTASY.

#  Contents

  1. Books by the Author
  2. Special Offer
  3. 1. EXPLUSION
  4. 2. TAKE OFF
  5. 3. DARKNESS
  6. 4. NORMAL
  7. 5. PARAGON
  8. 6. BOW
  9. 7. FALL
  10. 8. HEIST
  11. 9. MAGNANIMOUS
  12. 10. PRESENT AND PAST
  13. 11. DELIVERED
  14. 12. ODDITY
  15. Afterword
  16. About the Author
  17. Also by D. J. Hoskins

# Books by the Author

**Dark Light Series**

1. Paragon

2. Paralysis

3. Panic

_4. Pogrom -- coming soon_

**Crown of Dust Series**

_Draconian -- coming soon _

**Exomech Series**

_Cryogin -- coming soon_

**Cortic Series**

_The Color of Fire -- coming soon_

**Other Works**

_My Life As Death_

# Special Offer

Hey there!

Before you begin, consider subscribing to our **Science-Fantasy Newsletter** **(** **<http://eepurl.com/g7vP91>** **)** and receive updates on the upcoming novels we're working on. Being personally included on our email list will also ensure that you get solicited in **offers for free books, sneak peeks and the opportunity to help as a beta reader** in the last steps of our publishing process.

**Future Releases Will All Be FREE For You**

**Subscribe Here:** Science Fantasy Newsletter

**<http://eepurl.com/g7vP91>**

Thank you for supporting us!

# 1

# EXPLUSION

**-- ALEX-- **

The principal slammed his hand on the table. "No," he spat. "Shut up, young man, you're expelled!"

Alex stared at him and blinked. The words seemed to echo in his ears. "You--you can't expel me," he said dumbly. "I'm un-expellable. My grandmother--"

The man straightened with a deepening scowl. "The school doesn't care about your grandmother's donations or her corporation's deep pockets. This is about principles, young man, principles! Double standards can't be allowed--"

"It was fine until now," Alex whined. "I barely have five tickets--"

Principal Paul snorted. "Five. You only have _five_? This is a private school. The rules apply to all its students without exception."

"No," Alex sputtered. "No, I--"

" _No exceptions_ ," the man said and folded his arms. "I'll have you rest on your family's laurels no longer, Mister Mulholland. The influence of your relations only goes so far. This expulsion will prove immediate. From this moment on, you are no longer a member of this school, and are therefore no longer permitted on--"

"I--I own you!" Alex snapped, pointing a shaking finger as he stood. He placed his hand on his chest and lifted his chin with a false sense of self-importance. The principal looked on from behind his wide desk, unimpressed. "My grandmother's given this school a lot of donations," the youth boasted. "That's money three times your salary. Three!" He waved the fingers for emphasis and narrowed his eyes. "I'm a Mulholland. Unlike everyone else, I pay twice--no, _three times_ my dues. I think you need to show some respect."

A chuckle lifted into a mirthless laugh. "You pay?" the man asked. He fixed the boy with a sordid gaze. "No. You pay nothing. You make nothing. You're only a student, and being a student isn't a job. But your grandmother? Yes, she pays dearly for your little prick to stay in this prestigious--"

"If you know that old man, then you'd also know that I was only ten miles over when the cops clocked me," Alex said with a defensive nod. "I slowed down."

"Slowed down?" the principal repeated. "You slowed down to going ten over?" He leaned back with a huff of a laugh. Running a hand through his dark grey hair, he turned his gaze out the window before returning it to the boy. "Do you have any idea why you're in my office? To why you were arrested, _again_?"

"I was stupid enough to stop at a red light," Alex said, straight-faced. "And you were dumb enough to call me in here. Do you know what my grandmother could do to your career?"

A small smile played over the older man's lips and reaching out, the principal grabbed the student by the collar. Putting his hands to his neck with a choke, Alex gagged. His nose wrinkled at the tobacco on the headmaster's breath. "Listen here, you pampered pretentious little--"

"Get--get your hands off me!" the blond squawked. Shoving his hand in the man's face, he flailed out of his grasp. Miffed and bewildered, he gave the principal a frightened stare. "You can't grab me! It's against the rules--"

"And what do you know about rules?"

Betraying the utmost caution, Alex stepped back. With his courage shot, he leaned on his pride as he cleared his throat. "I--"

"Street racing, driving without a license, performing tricks on the street--"

"They're called wheelies," the youth corrected.

"I won't repeat it, Alex," the fat man said, scooting around his desk. "You're expelled. Finished. Out of my school!"

"No," the student protested and balled his fists. "I'm not. My grandmother--"

"Get out of my office!" The man snarled. "Or would you rather be dragged out by security?"

Darting forward, Alex snatched his helmet off the coffee table and tucked it protectively under an arm. "I'd like to see you try. Call them, and I'll see you in court for an assault charge."

"Assault?" Paul sputtered, red-faced. "Assault, you say?" He looked back and picked up his coffee mug.

Alex smirked as he watched the headmaster's fingers redden around the cup handle. "What're you gonna do? Throw--"

He ducked with a yell as the mug left the man's hand. Wide-eyed as it shattered behind him, Alex looked up with a start and scrambled sideways as the man made a grab for him. Eyes wild, he reached out for the door and yanked it open. Slipping out before the principal could catch him, he glanced back and booked it down the hall. The headmaster's huffs echoed in the corridor as he stumbled out behind.

"That's right, Mulholland!" the man shouted, putting a hand on his heaving side. "Get out of my school!"

# 2

# TAKE OFF

**-- ALEX--**

Flattening a bed of flowers, Alex stepped onto the academy's freshly cut grass. Conversation filled the air as dozens of students brushed by one another on the sidewalk in two opposing lanes. Stopping before them, he looked on before sneaking a cautious glance behind him.

"What are you looking for?" a voice asked. Alex snapped his eyes back with a start. His friend grinned, dark eyes twinkling as he punched him in the shoulder. "Did you get chewed out by Fat Paul?"

"Shut up," Alex said, looking away as he placed his helmet on his shoulder. "That old fart doesn't know what's coming for him."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "What? Did he expel you or something?"

Giving him a withering look, Alex brushed past him. "I can't be expelled. It's impossible. Don't you know how much the Mulholland Corporation is worth? A principal that barks today will be gone tomorrow, it's the same with any lackey, no exceptions. He's gonna learn today."

Keeping in step beside him, Matthew laughed. "Is that how you got expelled from your last school?"

"I didn't get expelled," the blond said. "I moved. My parents--"

"Whatever," Matthew said. "You don't need to lie with a cover story to me."

Alex stopped and lowered his helmet from his shoulder as his friend broke off from the lane of students headed for the parking lot. Matthew slowed and looked back. "What is it?"

_My parents,_ Alex thought, his eyes distant. _My parents are dead._

"Yo, Alex, come on, man," Matthew called impatiently. "School's out. Let's move."

The blonde forced a smile. "Yeah."

His friend knocked his knuckles on Alex's helmet as he neared and made a face. "Is this what you're planning to do all summer?" he asked. "Ride around?"

Alex moved his helmet underneath his other arm. "Yeah, why?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Dude, like seriously, don't you ever get tired of your bike?"

"No," Alex said and stepped away. He gave his friend a reproachful look. "Don't you ever get tired of getting dumped?"

Matthew flashed a cocky smile. "Girls love me."

Lean yet muscular with tightly curled hair and a magnetic charisma behind his dark chocolate eyes, he was the reigning quarterback of the football team. Cool and confident, he was a player of broken hearts.

Girls fell off, and on his arm like dress ties, people flocked about him like flies, and passing report cards seemed to be handed to him like candy. He was what Alex would never be, a straight cut, exemplary student. At least, it was how he appeared. Beside him, all others seemed mere accessories to his popularity.

"Girls love to hate you," Alex said as he passed between two hedges and ducked under a low hanging tree.

"There's nothing wrong with being a player," Matthew said, following along behind. "Girls throw themselves at me like--"

"You have a lack of morals," Alex interrupted.

Matthew grinned. "But, I get laid."

"You--"

"Ah, shut up." Matthew passed a comb through his curls. "Summer is the season for chasing skirts, not being ran down by flashing police cars. I think you should get a girlfriend."

Alex pushed up a low hanging tree branch and let it snap back as Matthew tried to pass under. Leaves flew into the air as the branch whipped back into his face.

A light smile played across Alex's lips.

"Are done talking?" He asked, walking on. "Let me put it to you this way, Matt." He paused. "Girls are a hassle." He glanced at two brunettes chatting on a bench. "I'd rather be chased down by the cops any day than deal with drama."

"Heartless bastard," Matthew muttered, pushing the branch as he rounded boxed hedges. "Women are life."

"You're an idiot."

"And you're a spaz," Matthew said. "At least, I'm not the one who gets pulled over on a regular basis. How do you even have a license?"

"I don't."

"What?"

Alex shrugged. "They took it when I was arrested." He laughed. "Still, I got my motorcycle back from the impound lot, though."

"Oh, like that's a relief."

"Isn't it?"

Matthew sighed. "How are you going to get home? Do you want my butler to drive you to the airport? Your grandparents live in California, right?"

"They own a summer home in the area."

"Alright, then I'll--"

"No," Alex said. "I've got a bike. I can drive."

Matthew raised a brow. "Without a license? Are you insane?"

Alex waved off his concern. "Laws are meant to be broken. Besides, how do you think I got to school this morning?"

Matthew shook his head. "You're the idiot."

The blond turned. "Who cares?"

Matthew didn't smile. "Alex," he said, suddenly serious. "You're going to get yourself kicked out of school."

"Like it's ever been worth my time."

Matthew grabbed his arm before he stepped off the curb. "Alex--"

He broke his grip. "Get off."

Matthew stared at him and balled his hand to a fist by his side. Alex glanced at it, unimpressed.

"What are you going to do? Hit me?"

"You know you have to pass high school to get your inheritance, right?"

"Yeah." Alex looked away. "And what's that got to do with you?"

"You need the money. You won't..."

"I won't end up anywhere without it?" The blond's green gaze returned to his friend. "Yeah, probably."

"Man, your grades suck. You always end up copying off of me and--chicks--they don't dig that stuff, you know? Without your money, you're just a--"

Alex lifted his helmet. " _Chill._ " His eyes were cold. "Don't talk to me like you're some trumped-up nerd. You're a jock, Matt. Sooner or later, you'll lose all your brain cells."

Matthew appraised him. "Better a jock than a nobody."

Alex's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah. We're done here." He raised a hand in a wave as he walked away. "See you next year." _Or not,_ he thought.

Standing by the curve, Matthew didn't follow.

Tucking his helmet back under his arm, Alex crossed the parking lot. Slipping between two cars, he skirted around the hood of another vehicle before setting his helmet on his motorcycle's gas tank. He twisted the key into the ignition. Beneath his hand, the vehicle rumbled to life. Straddling it, he revved the throttle.

A glossy ebony black, the motorcycle's dark coat gleamed like wet tar in the sunlight. Pulling on his helmet, Alex backed the bike out into the road. _Clear for takeoff,_ he thought and snapped his visor down. He felt the eyes of bystanders as he revved the engine again. Picking up his feet, he screeched out of the parking lot, leaving a streak of smoke and rubber behind.

Leaning forward, the familiar thrill of going from zero to sixty ran through him in a rush as he raced down the street adjacent to his school. He hugged the sides of the bike with his legs and pulled the front tire into a wheelie. Merging onto highway traffic, what had begun as a clear day twisted out of the weatherman's sunny prediction.

Dark clouds banded together in large clumps across the sky. Reaching the sun, the gloomy mass smothered its rays and put out its early summer light in an overshadowing depression. No sooner had the clouds covered the sky, did they release the first drops of a downpour. In a matter of seconds, the sudden shower rendered the road slick and shining with water.

Alex blinked. Squinting through his fogging visor, he veered off sharply into another lane, missing the headlights of a car by a hair. A fog of steam blew up behind him as he twisted the throttle further. Numbers flew on the speedometer out the corner of his eye and hurtling down asphalt, he weaved in and out of traffic like a snake, darting in-between cars with split-second decisions.

"Woohoo!" He yelled and leaned in as his speedometer passed into the triple digits. "Freedom!"

Tilting his head back, he looked up and watched the puffs of clouds pass along overhead. He breathed in, then out. The smell of rain was in the air. Gasoline and diesel filled his nose, the rush of traffic, the dexterity of his bike, the adrenaline in his blood--he could feel it all. He was hyperaware, the intrinsic flight of fear, the absence of worry. _Freedom._

He chose to ride, and the choice was his. He felt connected. His tires raced along the ground, rotating more times than he could count as they cut through the rain on the road. His motorcycle was his link, the sole thing in life that made him feel alive.

When he was on it, he mattered. All else was a test of his endurance, an effort to hide behind a mask. On the hardened tar, he could go faster than everyone else, accelerate quicker, and change gears with only the flick of his foot.

The rain created a rainbow of oily water along the side of the highway. The liquid danced into an alluring melting pot of color, which ebbed and flowed as Alex flew by. Speeding through a curve, his motorcycle sliced through a gathered puddle. Leaning into another, the teen dragged knee.

He resisted the urge to jerk back as a splash of liquid sprayed into his visor. The cars flew past him like graffitied walls. Creative, different, and ever-changing, he watched them as one would a screen--forever on the edge of his seat.

They were unpredictable. Some turned with sudden signals, others without. The road was as volatile as it was beautiful. It was his path. It belonged to him. A constant, stable paradise which seemed to stretch on forever into a dark horizon. 

# 3

# DARKNESS

**-- ALEX-- **

Racing along at triple the speed limit, Alex taunted the threat of a felony. If caught, his penalty would not end at a simple fine for his grandmother to pay, it would be jail time and lots of it. Even so, he'd never felt so alive.

He was entranced in the thrill and rode without effort, experienced without thought.

His eyes widened. Time seemed to slow, as a red car signaled into his lane. Panicking, he instinctively pulled back the throttle. A mistake that only increased his speed.

Metal crumpled. The front wheel of his bike popped as it smashed into the back of the car. He felt the sharp snap of bones and following the impact, exploded into pure agony. His hands left the handlebars as he flipped over the car.

Striking asphalt, he rolled headfirst like a ragdoll. Red flashed into his vision. The plastic of the helmet cracked, and his skull bruised on impact. Fabric tore, and bone shattered. The hardened tar peeled his skin from flesh and bone in his tumble across the stretch of road. Inertia letting him go--left what remained of him, to be rained on.

He lay there, unmoving, a lonely figure on a busy road fraught with cars. Behind him, a car skidded, out of control. Headlights flashed into view, bearing down upon him. Thunder boomed in a cackle, and lightning streaked overhead as tires screeched with its brakes too late. Barely conscious, Alex's breath caught in his throat. A single tear trickled from his eyes as he closed them, fearing for the worst.

There was no impact.

Just darkness...

Then...a rush of air. Alex felt his body drop. He was falling. Airborne for what felt like minutes--he hit the earth headfirst.

His neck snapped. The air was expelled from his body as blood flooded into his throat. The teen sputtered, choking on it--the fall had ruptured his trachea. His body convulsed, writhing in a spasm, he twisted, clawing out, starved of oxygen. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared into the darkness, broken fingers curled through naught but sand.

Splintered bone, caked in muddy blood, jutted out from an awkward angle. Once, the flesh was his shin. He didn't need to see to know he was mangled. The road rash of his left arm burned, and its dislocated shoulder was burdened by the backwards bend of a twisted arm. It lay at an irregular angle amongst the sand. The wrist of his other hand was just as broken. Accompanied by a couple bloody fingers, he couldn't decide what hurt worse; he was numb with pain. Skinned raw from the road, he bled freely.

Like a broken doll, Alex waited for death. Air bubbled in his throat, gurgling blood, he blinked rapidly his vision blurred. Besides the numb movement of a few fingers, he was powerless. There, splayed out on a blanket of sand in a black dimension, internally, he screamed--drowning in his lifeblood.

Tufts of his sandy blond hair were missing, leaving patches of bald spots behind. What remained was a gorish image of a designer haircut. Blood lent the light color a new sicking dye while a mix of it and rainwater plastered the rest to his skull in an ungodly parody of a Halloween costume.

Alex had once been handsome with a devilish smile and smooth square jaw, his face was attractive enough to model. Now that jaw was broken and he, no longer pretty. Red trickled between pine green eyes, over his crooked nose, the blood seeped down to busted lips.

As his consciousness wavered, slowly, the sand began to sink. Tugged under, the youth closed his eyes tight against the piling sand before it swallowed him whole.

Engulfed, the minerals ebb and flow around seemed to possess a mind of its own. Eating away Alex's clothes like acid, it dismembered his helmet and poured down his throat. He choked as the grittiness

sucked dry his saliva. The panicked flare of his pain receptors dulled as quickly as their signals flooded his brain. Suddenly lethargic in the wake of the numbing sand, Alex felt its presence as if from far away. It was as if it all occurred vaguely, to a person, not himself. Worming its way down his trachea, it cleared his throat of clotted blood, restored cartilage, and the ruptured tracheal rings before realigning his neck's vertebrae. Going on to straighten his twisted arm, wrist, and broken fingers, it scabbed over his road rash and renewed his skin with the second passage of rippling wave.

His jaw was reset with a painless click as the sand returned from his throat. Coiled in the position of a sleeping child, Alex was hardly aware as it seeped into the skin of his body. Weaving through muscle, the particles flowed along veins and blood vessels, reconnecting the ligaments around the split shin and knitting back its shattered bone. Its work finished, the gritty substance pushed him to the surface, spitting him out after only two minutes keeping him under.

Alex rolled over with a gasp. Hacking, he wretched, his body's delayed reaction regarding his disturbed uvula being paid in full. He jerked as vomit spewed into the sand. A tingly sting washed into his nose as hot bile dripped through the second in a torrid burn.

Tired, disoriented, and feeling somewhat violated, Alex sat back with a breathless ache, thankful to be alive. Bright and hardly hairless, his new skin was raw, sensitive to the touch. He swallowed, forcing spit down a scratchy throat, unable to quite ignore the tang of vomit.

Cupping a hand into the sand, he stared out into the blank darkness, blind to the minerals that slipped from his hand. His exhaustion allowed for little fear. He ran his fingers along his neck and sighed. It was just enough to still be breathing. Engulfed in a sea of blackness, his gaze drifted aimlessly. He could see nothing. Or was this the afterlife?

"Hello?" he croaked. "Is anybody--" He dropped into a bout of coughs followed by a dry heave. "Ugh." He wiped his mouth. "No one's out here, huh. Alien landscape... I should be dead."

It was like he'd survived a deep scrub rather than death and quicksand. He waited, anticipating something else to happen. Nothing followed the past movement of the sand. Silence was all that lingered--it was as if it'd never moved. Alex flexed his hand. _Tricky place,_ he thought, but the obedience of his body brought a measure of solace. His eyes went up into an equally pitch-black sky. _Makes me feel like I 'm not alive._

Brushing his hands on his thighs, he stumbled as he rose. He staggered on the shifty ground. It was subtle, but the gritty substance beneath did move. It slid along like trickling water and flowed across his toes. He stepped forward. Slightly sinking, his foot held firm.

"Guess it doesn't want me if I'm not dying," he joked uncertainly. Still, questions lingered at the back of his mind. _Why did it save me? Why did I crash?_ His words were a nervous whisper. "What is this place?"

Walking, he was neither cold nor warm, hungry nor full. Even his initial fatigue dissipated into light lethargy. A breeze that felt barely tangible brushed against his skin, he walked in pitch darkness without a moon. _This must be what it feels like to be blind._

Even as he convinced himself to keep moving, panic harbored the fringes of his mind. Tension was in his every step. The sand passed between his naked toes without hint to a branch or rock. The plane he walked seemed lifeless, devoid the rush of water or song of birds. It felt eternal, endless. The earth wasn't normal. The ground. The sand moved on its own as if patrolling, empty of anything but itself. Would it eat him again?

He staggered, slightly tripping over air. Pausing, he looked ahead bleakly. What was ahead?

Where was he going?

Why did he move?

The progress he made felt trivial. _Will my next steps go further than last?_ He wondered and laughed harshly in spite of himself. He sat with a huff and leaned back on his hands. His head tilted with a trembling smile. _Ah... I'm not going anywhere at all. _He'd become a blind man. Was blind. Or had he always been? He fought the knot of panic unfurled within him despite the lack of hope.

"Why...?" His fingers dug into the sand. "Why can't I see anything!" Scrambling to his feet, he looked behind him and turned. What was forward? What was back? "How do I get out of here? There's a way... There must be a way... I'm not dead. Am I _dead?_ I can't be...dead. I didn't die!" His words dissipated like the mist, unable to echo in a void. There was no entity for sound to rebound.

Alex's expression went sour. _This is hell._

After a long moment, he began to walk again. _Not night,_ he thought. _Can 't be without a moon. A coma? _He reflected upon the pain of his entering. _No, not a dream._ He shifted his awareness to the shifting sand. _It 's not a dream... but what sand moves in reality?_ The lack of an incline dismissed the notion of a hill before he could bother to ponder. _Why is it so dark? Are my eyes just closed somehow?_

He blinked and cursed.

"I have to get out of here," he muttered but ceased to say more. It was eerie, listening to his own voice. With anything around him, it faded seamlessly into nothingness. It was if he had never spoken. His words were akin to a tree felled in a forest that no one to hear. Had he really talked? Or was it all his imagination?

Other than his breathing and the shift of the sand, the silence was absolute. A chill ran down his spine and with it, a sense of paranoia. For what, he didn't know. As otherworldly as the moving sand was the acute feeling of being watched. Was it a feeling conjured from his encroaching aloneness? Or was there something out there, really lurking in the darkness? Perhaps, he was already going delusional. How long had he been walking, minutes, or hours? Turning his way and that, he set off in another random direction.

Never in his life had he become more aware of himself. Of his heartbeat. The solitude was absolute. Alone with himself and the sand.

There has to be an exit somewhere, he thought, sweat trickling from his brow. _There always is..._ He licked his lips. _Always is._

Stumbling into a jog, he escalated into a blind sprint in a mad dash. Pivoting, he ran another way. Then another, desperate to see it. To grab again, a glimpse of light. Gasping, he slowed with hacking coughs. He put his hands on his knees with a shudder, and bit on his lip, chewing hard, desperate not to crack.

"I must be dead," he said. How else to explain this? "I died." He was alone with not a soul to validate his existence. "I'm dead." He sucked in a breath. It would be pathetic to cry. "I died," he repeated to himself. "Or dying. Maybe a coma... Either I'm dead, died, or dying." He laughed. "Likely all three. That car killed me. Crushed my head with its tires; this is the aftermath." His eyes were hollow. "No, I killed myself."

Letting loose a ragged breath, he dragged a foot forward. _Keep moving,_ he coaxed himself. _Look for the light. There must be light, even at the end of the road. The quicksand could 've been an illusion. _

Wandering on for what felt more like days than hours, Alex froze with cracked lips as his pupils dilated.

"Light."

Squinting, he made out the faintest glimpse of light. No... color. Fuzzy, the purple sliver hue shone glimmered like a tiny spark. Amidst the darkness, it was fainter than the fragile waver of candlelight. But it was hope, and Alex grasped on. The light was a chink in the blackness, thread for the lost. As he stumbled into a desperate run, it held steady and constant like a little moon in the armor of the eternal night.

"Please," Alex begged, gasping. "Be there! Don't abandon me!"

The light widened with his approach, expanding from a sliver to floodlight. Trapped behind a rippling purple surface, the light shone without the measure of a tangible source. The pale violet barrier resembled a wall, something like stained glass. Slowing to a walk, Alex breathed hard as he reached out with a stagger, his hand tentative. His fingers slipped across the smooth, glassy surface. He jerked back with a start as if burned. It was ice cold.

"What is it?" He wondered aloud, tapping it with a finger. "Some kinda gate?"

Ever shifting, a powdery milk-like substance swirled hazily within the barrier. They ranged in shades from deep violet to gentle lilac, soft lavender, and dark plum. The essence of their brilliance centered upon the external light illuminating it from behind. Like a kaleidoscope to the sun.

_Is this even real?_ He wondered and rubbed an eye. Running his palm back and forth along it, he stared hard for a moment and pressed. Feeling something sink, he pushed harder. _If its a portal...it has to lead to somewhere._ He cast a glance back at the dark void behind and leaned closer to the barrier of light. _I can 't stay. If I do... I'll go insane. _

Adding his other hand, he stepped back into a lunge and pressed harder. "Everything has a weak point," he murmured, desperate. "I just...have to break through."

Stepping back, he retreated a few paces and charged. Throwing his shoulder into the barrier, he closed his eyes. He touched nothing. His eyes snapped open as his body dropped. Flailing, a scream left him as he plummeted. Wind blew against his body as he descended above the sparkling blue water of a lake. Behind was not a barrier but a mountain, and he a hundred feet in the air. The glass was but an illusion, and he, the fool. His fate, it seemed, was death by drowning. 

# 4

# NORMAL

**-- MELISSA-- **

"What does it take to be normal?" Melissa wondered.

Resting her chin on her hands, she looked out a window. Two stories below, three students in dark blazers milled around a large garden stone. A girl hopped onto the rock with a foot, only to lose her balance just as quickly.

She fell back into a boy and took him down with her. A third student--another girl, laughed at her friends' antics. Around her collar hung a black necktie. She was a senior, a pre-cadet. Like the rest of them, she would graduate and continue to an esteemed secondary or trade school.

Pre-tiers, candidates of the elite class--they had what she longed for. The path of a scholar or the road of a soldier, they would be the ones to choose. Scientist or officer, politician or battlemage--as children of the tiers, their education would take them to great heights and bring grand opportunities. Unlike the tierless, their backgrounds opened the window of choice.

Melissa rolled her face against her knuckles. She envied their smiles. Bright and carefree, they were unburdened by the shadows of the world.

"Life is cruel," she said and pressed her palm to the window's cold glass. She stared at the students with hungry eyes. _If we could switch..._ she thought. _I 'd be them and they'd be me. A normal life._ The impossible concept made her sullen. __ "A weapon I was born, and a weapon I will die."

She turned her head to the side and let her hand fall. Watching her breath mist on the glass, she turned her gaze up to the bright blue canvas of the sky. Puffs of white drifted across the endless sea of air, dispersing around the morning sun, they refracted the fading colors of dawn like wisps of smoke.

Melissa tapped the glass with a freshly polished fingernail. "A dead pawn," she said. "Just like--"

Two sharp raps on the door made her jump. "Melissa," a voice said outside it. "Get up. Principal Leptin wants to see you."

She glanced at the wall and sensing her gaze, the digital interface lit up to show the time. It was already half-past seven. Class would start in an hour. Cursing, she slid out of bed. Tugging her high socks over her shin, she adjusted her skirt, slipped the sleeves of her dark blazer over her arms, pulled her backpack off of a chair, and headed for the door.

She paused by her shoe rack and opting for comfort over style, stepped into sneakers. She moved her hand across the surface of the room door. It responded to her touch with a click and slid open to reveal a tall, cheerless man.

Thin with a prominent brow and straight nose, his black hair was shaven on the sides and slickly gelled in par with regulations. Uniformed in the white-collared regalia of an elite, he looked more a part of the imperious nobility than a member of the military class. White wire curled over his ear, the communication device also worn by the two bodyguards behind him.

"Put your cargo-pack on," he said and began to walk down the hall.

"It's a backpack," Melissa corrected, slinging its other strap over her shoulder.

The other two bodyguards bowed their heads as she passed. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Yeah," she said, failing to remember their names.

_Here today and gone tomorrow._ She accessed absently. _They never last long. No attachments._ She eyed Kevin. _Except the ones they choose._

The guards' assignment was a six-month temporary duty. They watched, guarded, and protected the Paragon. A simple gold nugget and classic maneuver to climb up the ranks. _The Dogs of Kaiga._ They were contracted soldiers of the Titus Association, top graduates of Corpus, and mages of the highest tier. Not higher than her, of course. No one was or could be... not naturally.

"Kevin," Melissa said as she fell into step beside the warden. "What does Leptin want?"

He glanced at her. "You have paperwork to sign."

"What kind?" she asked. "Is it about my next academy?"

"More or less."

"So, I'm being transferred to my next headmaster like a foster child to a new home," she said, twirling a strand of hair around a finger. "Wonderful. Corpus is written in stone, after all. Just like I predicted. Only the best for the Paragon."

"It won't be the first time your guardianship will change," Kevin reminded. "After Corpus, you'll be transferred to the Association."

"And then to war," she said mirthlessly as they passed another door.

The hall's opaque marble tile reflected the glare of golden lights. Vases and small tables decorated the wide corridor, adding an essence of class to its embellished silver walls and sophisticated paintings. The Gold Zone, others called it, the palace wing of the paragon. Behind its doors laid unfurnished suites, all empty, unoccupied shells, save Melissa's own.

Most recanted the silent wing to be a luxury, but the reality was a much lonelier image. Cordoned off on the academy's highest floor, hers was a restricted area. Prohibited from all students--friends and peers alike--there were no visitors allowed.

"From one headmaster to the next," Melissa muttered. "What am I? A deck of cards?"

"Stop complaining," Kevin said.

"I'm not," she snapped and lifted her chin. "I'm protesting."

Her warden gave her a look. "You have a duty to Kaiga which requires--"

She rolled her eyes. " _Duty_ ," she scoffed. "And when did I ever ask for that?"

Kevin grabbed her by the arm, stopping her. "The kingdom gave you life." His grip tightened as she tried to slip away.

She grimaced. "Ow, that--"

"You live to serve it."

"I never asked to be born in a lab." The intensity of her purple gaze made his grip slacken.

"No one feels sorry for you," Kevin said. "You're not slaving away in a titus factory or a starving child in Victashia. You have it better than most."

"I'm a weapon," she countered.

"You're a tool."

"I--"

"Shut up," the man said, twisting her arm. His expression was severe, unyielding. _Cold._ "Do you have any idea how many would kill to be you?"

Melissa gritted her teeth against the pain. His fingers dug into her skin. "Victashia would kill to have me."

"No," he said, releasing her. "They would simply kill you."

Melissa rubbed her arm. Dark red marks marred skin, curled over like stripes. She looked up to find the man staring back. A chilling frigidity clung to him like a bad odor.

"Melissa, what are you?"

Touching her neck self-consciously, her mouth went suddenly dry. Her fingers brushed over a square device beneath her ear. The small bump of its green light blinked in line with her heartbeat.

Specially designed to monitor her vitals--the nano-computer annotated the smallest details from the steps, she took her mental stability and emotional risk to her stress levels and inflections of her voice. Able to compile its readings, it could combine multiple functions to recognize whether she walked, jumped, or even told a lie.

"I'm a slave."

"A servant," Kevin corrected, his expression softening. "We all serve Kaiga. Now, repeat the mantra."

"By the will of the King, I breathe and the grace of the Kingdom I exist," she muttered.

"Louder," the warden demanded.

Melissa sighed. "I will die when I deserve death. As the symbol of Kaiga, my duty is to remain the strongest mage. Exceeding expectations and performing above all calculations and limitations is my calling."

Kevin nodded, satisfied. "You are a tool. No more, no less." He cupped her face in his hand and smiled. "Understand?"

Melissa turned her head away but said nothing. Camera lenses embedded in her eyes recorded the world around her, and a GPS implant in her wrist tracked her location. Linked to her nano-computer, a team of government analysts reviewed a constant feed of encrypted data.

Her gaze shifted to the two guards. The nano-computers in their wires linked to the virtual display their hands moved along. While their fingers seemed to tap air from an outside viewpoint, she knew they hit the letters of digital keyboards.

The Keepers required their observations. The more data, the better. They liked to monitor her progress from all angles. She'd been released from that lab eight years ago only in theory. The only thing that truly stopped were the experiments, the reports had never ceased. They never would. Only in her thoughts was she admitted semblance of privacy. At least, until they figured out how to take that too.

"Are they really necessary?" she said, looking at Kevin. She was startled as he patted her head.

"Must you whine?" he asked.

She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Melissa," he said. "Be grateful." Turning from her, he continued to walk down the hall. After a moment, she followed.

_Grateful._ The words resounded in her mind. Grateful to serve. Grateful to be isolated. Grateful to be property. She was an experiment that owed her life to a fluke in a lab. Artificially made, she was the Paragon.

The salvation of the eastern world, the sword in the dark, the punisher of the wicked, the heroine of justice and sentinel of righteousness and peace, and... whatever else the Keepers and the King wanted her to be. She lived for Kaiga. Their will was her purpose. Their whims, her goals. She was a tool in a shed. Important when needed, discarded when not.

_Grateful._

"I'm not," she said, stopping. Her breathing quickened, and the green light at her neck blinked faster with her heartbeat.

"Melissa?" Kevin asked, looking back at her, concerned.

"I'm not," she said again, swallowing. She looked at him with a haunted expression. "I'm not... Kevin."

"Not what?" He asked calmly, stepping towards her. She stepped back, wary. On edge. Her eyes flicked to the bodyguards behind her. _Are they trying to take me back?_ She took another step. _They must be. No. No, they can 't. They promised._ She looked at the warden. _The Keepers promised. They promised me._

"No!" She screamed and dipped to the side as one of her guards made a grab at her. "I'm not a pawn!" Her words echoed through the hall as she took off at a sprint.

"Melissa!" Kevin yelled after her. "Stop!"

_Go away,_ she thought as she ran. _I won 't let you trap me. I won't. I won't! _

# 5

# PARAGON

**-- MELISSA-- **

Melissa had a long stride and fast turnover. Exhaling with measured breaths, her arms pumping at her sides. Her fingernails bit into her palms, leaving a trickle of blood behind. She could hear three pairs of boots clop on the marble floor heavily in pursuit.

"Melissa!" Her Warden called as she left them at a sprint down the hall.

Rounding the corner of the wing, wide double doors at its end opened with her approach. She dashed through them and onto the metal tile of the wing-bridge. Turning, she slammed her hand down on the button and closed the doors. She punched the glass of its emergency lever, breaking it and ignoring the cuts in her hand, pulled it down.

Stepping back with a wheezing cough, a grin spread over her face as the beeping of an alarm blared over the bridge's intercom. Red lights flashed across the windowed medium. A barred bulletproof glass gate dropped down over either side of the door, and clamps rose from digits in the floor to lock them in place. A low steady hum stirred up from the gate, and white tendrils of electricity flickered around its bars, warning intruders away with its high voltage.

Melissa watched Kevin shout into his com on the other side of the sealed door. His gaze was murderous. Appraising at him for a moment longer, she turned and walked away. She knew he spoke to security and that it would only be a matter of time before the alarms shut off and gate disengaged. Still, for a time, she was free. Releasing a breath, she leaned back against the bridge's railing. Privacy at last.

The bridge served as a medium between her Second West Wing and the populated dorms of the East Wing. She glanced at the sealed doors on the opposite end of the wide walkway. The faces of students clustered around the bars, clamoring to see the source of the commotion. To their backs, elevator pods descended without them, ferrying down naught but empty air to the ground floor.

She imagined herself staring out into the bridge, amongst them jostled and jostling alongside cadets and pre-tiers, all hoping to get a glimpse of the Second Paragon--the golden star of their generation. _What would it be like to be them?_ She wondered. _See from their eyes? To live a freer life?_

Regular students of the academy were burdened by the freedom of choice. Indecisive and careless, weighted only by the effort to walk down their desired path of the future. What would it take to be them?

What they would give to be her? Powerful, resolute, and revered by all with dozens upon dozens of teachers and students alike falling over themselves just to catch her eyes.

Melissa almost tilted her head with a sigh. _What do they see in me? Monster or savior?_ Her laugh was soft as she turned her eyes away. "I can't even save myself."

To receive the favors of the high families, converse with the Keepers of the Kingdom, gain their ears, receive the title of honorable royalty by the King himself and have hundreds of millions across the kingdom dream to see her in person. What a life it must be. How wonderful, how magnificent...to be her. What a surface ideal, she thought. They have no idea. It's irony that people wish to be what they never can. Her smile was faint. No grass is ever greener.

She shifted her gaze out the wall of windows. The panoramic view overlooked the campus of Aizer. Immaculate green lawns, garden parks, and student pavilions gave way to the winding cobblestone paths and playgrounds of the preliminary school beyond the mounted statue of Jamieh Cooper.

Melissa let a lock of hair unravel from her fingers. A loose halo of waterfall braids encircled her head like a crown, cascading down her back like a river; it shone like molten gold. Slender with a small, delicate nose, full lips, and a soft heart-shaped face, the Paragon had a noble air. Her languid violet eyes mirroring the subtle essence of amethysts.

Scooting back onto the rails, she leaned against the glass. She stared at the mounted marble sculpture. The First Paragon. Jamieh Cooper, the greatest mage of which her cells were harvested, and powers had their origin.

_Paragon._ Melissa was Kaiga's first and last defense, the only one that could keep the Hierocracy of Victashia at bay--the wretched cultists. The lives of hundreds of millions of men, women, and children depended upon her. They were a burden on her shoulders. Fawning and praising, they boasted of her both noble and rabble alike. On her back were their hopes and dreams, on her neck, their expectations. What an immeasurable weight to bear.

The alarm cut off. Turning her head, Melissa looked on as the clamps in the floor receded, and gate began to rise. Kevin ducked under it in his rush out to her.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded and grabbing her by the shoulders, he dragged her off the railing. "You can't just--"

"Get off me," she said and pulled away. "You're like a clingy mom."

He touched her head. "Are you having a lapse?"

"No," she said. She laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Why? Are you finally thinking of quitting?"

"No."

"Well, you should," she said and brushed past him. "There are corpses warmer than you."

"Melissa," he said, grabbing her arm. She looked at his hand, pointedly, then up at him before shaking him off.

"Don't touch me."

"You can't pull stunts like that. You'll--"

"Shut up." She pressed the button for the elevator pod, no longer smiling. "You don't have to be so serious."

_You don 't have to be so serious._ A voice mimicked in her head.

"This isn't a laughing matter," Kevin said. "Security management--"

"Not my problem," Melissa snapped. The elevator pod opened. "It's yours."

"Stop acting out," the Warden warned. "The Keepers are watching."

"Then, I hope they enjoyed the show." The girl stepped into the pod.

"Melissa--"

_Hello._ The voice in her head said, resurfacing more insistently.

Kevin stepped in after her. "This isn't a laughing matter."

"I don't care."

"You should."

_Hello?_ The voice called. The elevator doors closed behind the two other guards. _I know you can hear me. Are you trying to ignore me?_

"Melissa," Kevin said.

She looked at him. "What?"

_What?_ The voice repeated mockingly.

_Go away, Shadow._ She thought at her alter-ego. _Give me back my silence._

_I 've barely said anything._ It complained.

_You don 't have to._

"Melissa," Kevin said, watching her with an unreadable expression. "Did it resurface?"

The blonde's eyes cut over to the temporary bodyguards and back at him. "What do you care?"

"Is it cooperating?" he asked.

"No. It's not."

_Why 're you talking around me?_ Shadow asked. _It 's rude._

"Don't talk to me about rude," Melissa muttered aloud.

"So, it's--" Kevin began. Melissa stepped on his foot.

"Yeah," she said, ignoring the stares of the temp-bodyguards. Silence stretched between them. Melissa looked out the pod's dark glass. The other side of the academy stretched beyond it. The side of the pre-tiers and underclassmen. A complex of long and squat buildings led into a high gated wall. The sky above it swirled blue with the school's translucent barrier.

Melissa gave her Warden a sharp look, feeling the moment had gone on for too long. "What is it?" she demanded. "Spit it out."

Kevin hesitated. "I--"

_I know what it is._ Shadow pipped in. _I can read minds._

"--won't be going with you to Corpus," the Warden continued.

Melissa's eyes lit up. "Really?" The man gave her an irritated look, and she smiled. "What? Did you expect me to be sad?"

He didn't answer, and her smile wavered.

_Awkward... _Shadow said.

"Fine then," Melissa said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sad. Why are you leaving?"

Kevin looked out the pod. They were almost at ground level. "Corpus Academy has a barrier stronger than Aizer," he said. "It blocks all traces of titus signatures with a mago-shield and plasma barrier which has a refracting component that--"

"Get to the point."

"Yes, well, in short, the Keepers have acknowledged your complaints, and their petition to the King has been stamped with his approval."

"When does it not?" About time those geezers did something right.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Of course, I will accompany you as far as Corpus' entrance but--"

"So I'm free," Melissa asked, beaming. "I'm free at last? Gods, _finally..._ And oh, don't worry." She patted his arm, looking up at him. "I won't miss you."

# 6

# BOW

**-- MELISSA-- **

D _ing!_

The elevator doors slid open, and Melissa smoothed her golden locks back with a smile as she strode out. The attention of the students strayed from lockers and gossip to her. She sighed inwardly as all conversation died in the hall. Heads bowed as she passed. No one dared meet her eyes.

The students went by in a blur. All Melissa could truly see were the doors at the end of the hall. It was what she focused on. Being watched by so many eyes made her want to bolt. Not so much because they stared, but because of their admiration.

It was sickening. Mummers of _" your reverence"_ and _" Paragon,"_ followed her like a plague. Their words put her on a pedestal she didn't want to stand on. She was an outsider left out in the cold.

Some girls wore the wedges she had yesterday, and almost all wore her hairstyle. It irked her that she would have to change it again. Their complete lack of individuality was infuriating. Copies on top of copies. Even the males.

Although the academy had standards of uniform, they weren't as restricting as they appeared. Blazers could be omitted, and ties loosened; skirts could be worn at different lengths, and makeup was not prohibited.

Melissa balled her fists. Some things were meant to be taken advantage of. She didn't understand how most people could overlook so much opportunity. Why was it that they did the things they did? Why did they choose the things they chose, while some people had no choice at all? Those who had freedom acted as if they had none at all. It was wrong. It was backwards.

"What am I?" she muttered, speeding through the doors in a huff. "Some kind of rare animal?" She turned down a less populated corridor. "All of them look like they're waiting at a petting zoo."

"People don't bow to animals."

She glanced at her Warden. "Shut up, Kevin."

Melissa stepped out of another door onto an automated cobblestone path. Sticking her hands into her pockets, she waited impatiently as it delivered her to the doors of a brick building. Students coming the opposite way formalized their greetings while those behind kept their distance. She glanced at the faces she passed with a sour expression.

_Always with the stares,_ she thought as the doors of the building slid out for her. _Paragon, Paragon --as if they haven't seen me before. I'm not new to this school._

_You know why._ Shadow whispered.

_Ugh,_ she thought back, _go away._

_It 's because you're the strongest. _Shadow continued, undeterred. _You 're the center. A celebrity among the nobility, a star within the elite. A lion amongst cattle._

_Would you shut up already?_ Melissa thought as she neared the end of the hall. Her pace was so brisk, one student practically had to jump out of her way.

_I like talking; you like walking._ Shadow said and chuckled. _But you can 't run away._

"Melissa," Kevin asked as they rounded the hall. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"Your pace is--"

"If you can't keep up, stop following me."

"You're going the wrong way," he said. "The headmaster's office was the other--"

"I'm taking the long way!" She said, looking back at him. A tablet flew up into the air as she collided with a girl.

_Oh my,_ Shadow smirked, _you ran someone over. Can 't focus now, can you?_

"Oh, my gosh," the student before Melissa gushed and frantically went to her knees to pick up her digital notebook. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you."

_Did you let me make you mad?_ Shadow taunted. Melissa dug her fingers into her palms as the voice began to laugh.

The girl student looked up flush cheeked and teary-eyed. "My--my sincerest--"

"Would you just shut up already?" Melissa yelled. "Going on and on--" She stopped and blinked as a tear dropped from the underclassmen's eyes and fell in a streak down her face.

"How embarrassing," an onlooker said.

"Shut down by the Paragon," whispered another.

"Right?" a student commented. "The no-tier actually knocked her back."

Melissa looked sharply at the offender, who averted his eyes. The hall went deathly silent. She licked her lips. Two dozen pairs of eyes stared in their direction, all judging, all watching. Melissa's heart pounded in her chest.

"No," she said, looking at the girl. "No, I didn't mean you. I meant... I was actually--I was actually talking to--"

_Me?_ Shadow cackled. Melissa felt like it was breathing in her ear. _Were you really thinking of saying that? Do you want your image to shatter that badly?_

Feeling her face flush, Melissa coughed and glanced back nonchalantly. Even Kevin was staring at her. Turning her gaze back to the crying student, she took a knee before the girl. The underclassmen covered her mouth with her hands, struck by the gesture, but the tears brimming in her eyes continued to fall.

_It 's not like I can just run away in this situation. _Melissa thought, irritated.

Shadow was indignant. _Are you saying it 's my fault? I didn't make you say anything._

_The hell you didn 't. _The blonde retorted and looked at the tablet in the girl's hands. "There's a crack in it," she said, looking back at her Warden. "Kevin, give her mine."

His eyebrows raised. "What?"

"She can just wipe the drive and transfer her files."

The student stared at her with wide eyes. "I--I can't possibly--"

"It doesn't matter," Melissa said. "I'm graduating today anyway." She fought to keep a straight face in front of the girl's watery gratitude. Her fluffy hair made her look like a sheep. Unzipping her backpack, Kevin pulled out the file-thin screen and handed it to her. Taking it, Melissa held it out to the underclassman. "Here. Take it."

Receiving it with trembling fingers, the student bowed her head. "Thank--thank you so much. I will never forget your magnanimous heart, your reverence. Not for as long as I live!"

"It's okay, really," Melissa said sheepishly.

"No!" The girl said, looking up as Melissa stood. "It's a privilege--"

Melissa raised a hand. "It's fine. We all make mistakes." Averting her eyes, she stepped past. "I'm sorry too." Looking after her, the student said nothing for a moment. Imagining waterworks streaming down the girl's face, Melissa made a point not to look back.

"It won't--it will never happen again!" the student earnestly promised. "Forgive my impertinence, your reverence!"

Clapping started up in the beginning of applause from the onlookers in the hall. The other students gave Melissa smiles and nods as she passed, touched by her performance. _Spare me,_ she thought, striding through. _I just want to leave._

_Revel in it, Paragon._ Shadow mocked. _Revel in it, oh, deity among men._

Melissa ignored the voice. She only wished she could punch it.

"Don't get a big head," Kevin told her as they reached the end of the hall. "Hero."

"Shut up," she said. "I never would've run into her if not for--"

"What?" he asked.

Melissa evaded his gaze. "It doesn't matter."

_Paragon._ Shadow called as she rounded the corner of the hall. _Paragon._

She ignored it.

_Paragon._ It repeated, drawing out the word. _Paragon, Paragon._

Melissa didn't respond as she walked down the hallway, and after a moment, it fell silent.

_Are you done?_ She asked

_Para --okay._ It said. _I 'm done._

Pausing before an office door, Melissa let Kevin open it for her.

_Paragon!_ Shadow shouted.

"Get out of my head!" She snapped and froze as three pairs of eyes swung towards her. She stepped into the room awkwardly. Kevin gave her a sympathetic look as he took up his post beside the door, and the two other guards took up theirs outside.

It was a large office with a wide cluttered desk centered in its middle. Three students milled around the chairs stationed near it. She recognized them at a glance. They'd been waiting for her.

"Who were you yelling at?" Daniel asked, quizzically with a joking smile.

Dashing, dark-haired, and handsome, an innate charisma rolled from him as easily as the water did the ocean. Black hair fell into equally dark eyes--penetrating, they seemed to hold a secret depth below their surface, a hollow seriousness few would ever know. A silver earring glinted on his lobe, and glass plant pendant looped about his neck. Easygoing with a sense of charm, a cool mischievousness clung to him, a natural attraction that drew and intrigued less interesting souls.

He cast a glance behind her curiously. "Were you talking to your guards?"

"No," Melissa said.

"She was talking to herself," Katelyn said, plugging in her second earphone.

Melissa stared at them. "Why are you even here?"

The girl gave her a cool look. "I don't need a reason."

"Whatever," Melissa said, walking up to the desk. "Principal Leptin, what do you want me to sign?"

A balding, portly old man slowly turned from the window to look at her.

"Have you been fighting with yourself already?" he asked and tilted his head to the side, suddenly thoughtful. "Did you remember to take your meds?"

Melissa glanced at the other students. "I don't--"

"You do?" Sierra said and laughed. "That's pathetic." Taller than the blonde, she was a slim girl--haughty and attractive with pursed lips and a smug smile. Rich brown locks curled down her back, intermitted by streaks of caramel and imbued with the shade of deep mahogany. Arched brows curved thinly over bright hazel eyes only to descend into a pointed nose that supported an unseemly number of freckles.

"Shut up, Sierra," Daniel said, looking toward Melissa out of the corner of his eyes. "That isn't nice." His own smile didn't help.

"So?" Principal Leptin said, "How are you, Melissa?"

She glared at him. "What do you think?"

"Good," he said, nodding as he pushed his desk chair aside. "That's good to hear."

"I didn't even say that you fat lard," she said.

Daniel laughed.

"Daniel," Sierra said mockingly. "Laughing isn't nice."

Melissa looked back at the headmaster. "Where's the paperwork, Leptin?"

"Oh... right," the man said, yanking open a drawer. "Let me check."

Melissa gave him a withering look.

"Here we are," he said, and sweeping a hand across his mess of a desk, he sent its contents to the floor. Opening a folder, he emptied it. Reports, documents, and other clutter fell onto the desk. He stared at the paper for a moment and tossed the folder aside. Putting a hand atop the pile, he began to shuffle through them.

"Now the quest begins," he muttered.

_Unbelievable,_ she thought.

"It's very believable," he said in reply. "I'm the head of an enormous school."

"Don't read my mind," she said, crossing her arms.

He looked at her, puzzled. "Then, don't think."

"Melissa," Daniel said, "You're going to Corpus, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Cool," he said and smiled. "You're going to the same school as us."

"Ah," Leptin said, holding up a document. "This is it." The Principal's eyes snapped to the trio. "Katelyn!" he said. "How many times do I have to tell you? No teleporting into my office."

"Um, sir," Daniel said, raising his hand. "We've been here for a while."

Leptin's eyes narrowed. "Then, get out."

Katelyn looked up from her phone. "Go die."

Daniel looked at his twin. "Katelyn... Let's just go, okay?"

The girl stared at her brother for a long moment. "No."

"Well," Daniel said. "Stay here and stare at your phone then. I'm going to go." He looked at Sierra for a moment who'd moved in front of the door.

"Uh, do you mind?"

"Mind what?" Sierra asked, crossing her arms.

"You're blocking--"

Melissa nearly ducked a second too late as a knife flipped by her and embedded itself in the door. Sierra glanced at the blade. It'd stuck in the spot where her head had been a moment before.

Pulling out an earphone, Katelyn lowered her throwing arm. "Move," she said and tossed an iron marble into the air. The electric grey light glowing around hand went up to envelop the ball, morphing it into a throwing knife. Without looking, the girl caught it as it fell and pointed it at Sierra.

"I'm not asking again." Her iridescent ice grey eyes shifted to Melissa. "That wasn't for you," she said. "Daniel just can't be late for first period."

Sierra stared at her. "We're graduating." She jumped out of the way as the second knife hit the door. "Hey!" she said.

"I told you to move," Katelyn said.

"Get out, all of you!" Leptin roared. "Not you, Melissa. You've still got papers to sign."

# 7

# FALL

**-- ALEX-- **

The wind whipped by Alex's as he continued to plummet. Tears streamed from bloodshot eyes as bugs and debris flew into his face. Jagged rock and gnarled trees jutted out from the side of the cliff-face he fell along, threatening to skewer him should he drift too close. His stomach churned with his descent, upset and begging to heave. If not for the constant movement, barf would rain on his way down.

He saw it in glimpses. The purple barrier he'd sprinted through lingered on its ledge, mere steps from the edge. As if to spite him, the otherworldly wall continued to swirl with illusive tranquility, glimmering in the glare of the midday sun like marbled glass.

The wind roared in his ears as he approached the moment of impact. The lake was huge, a sparkling blue reservoir situated between the great pines of a forest and the massive cliff of a mountain. Its face seemed to stretch on for eternity in either direction as the purple barrier went up past the clouds.

The end of the world. Alex thought, and for a moment, he hung above the lake's water, suspended in the air as if hovering, then its cold spray dosed his body with a wave that rolled up to meet him.

Bubbles rose around him as his body went under. Gurgling as water filled his ears and flooded his throat, he floundered and kicked out futilely beneath the wave. Surfacing with a stroke of luck, his gasp was short-lived. The air that rushed into his lungs was expelled just as quickly. Another wave crashed into him mercilessly from behind, knocking his head under and dunking the rest of him deeper in.

He rolled into an underwater somersault with poor form, sprawled and clawing. Pushed about like a kicked football, bubbles exploded from his mouth and with it, his desperate struggle. He paled as he choked hard on water without relief, feeling dead already as the lake's saltwater burned his lungs. Drifting down from the surface for a moment, he suddenly began to rise.

Breaking the surface with bloodshot eyes, he put a hand atop the lake and heaved. Water spewed from his mouth as his body expelled it. Hacking, he puked what little still remained in his stomach, adding some bile to the mix.

Gasping, he crawled out of the water the remaining way and rolled onto his back, splayed out atop the lake. It was only then that he realized he wasn't lying on land. He bobbed along the surface like a duck.

"What's--this?" He asked, sitting up while catching his breath.

He stuck his hand experimentally into the wave. It went under with resistance. The water pushed against it like Jell-O, insistent that his fingers return to the open air. Scrambling away as a wave rolled his way, he cried out as the surge swept him along its surface.

His head went under for a moment and sputtering, he skimmed the lake as a coin would a floor, rolling head over heels along with the wave. The liquid dipped, curved, and unfurled around as he tumbled.

Cradled in its icy embrace, his body sunk no more than a few inches below its surface. Deep enough for a frigid welcome but not enough to drown. The water calmed, and he drifted, shivering with his back to the liquid and eyes toward the sky, exhausted.

"Ah..." He said with a cough, spitting the lake's rough salt from his mouth. "Ugh, how am I still alive?"

The tan color of sand caught his eye. Taking in the scenery of a distant beach, palm trees waved, and behind them, skyscrapers stretched for an unreachable sky. Shore, it was land. No, it was a city. He saw things--dots, maybe cars--flying along the dark shadows of floating lanes.

"Is this the future?" He wondered, awed. He looked at the water beneath his hands and could almost imagine balancing its surface well enough to meander across to solid ground. A futile ideal.

"The waves will knock me down before I have a chance," he muttered to himself, but even as he did, his eyes still stared out beyond the lake. Longing for land. Was it possible?

He sat up slowly, watching as a couple of shadowy figures moved along the beach. Hope rose within him at the sight. People. The barest of smiles spread across his face. People meant food and shelter. His breath mist in the lake's cool air as he waved his hands.

"Hey!" He yelled, sticking out a foot in a futile attempt to stand. A breeze brushed him by, skimming over his bare skin. He shivered, hugging himself from its chill. Then his eyes widened, and face flushed red. Modestly sitting back on his heels, he covered his privates with a hand, agonizingly cognizant of his nakedness, almost unbearably so. Thankfully, people also meant clothes.

He stared at the shore, where people were still milling around the edge of the beach. He looked down at his hands and shifted uncomfortably. If he did nothing, if he said nothing, no one would know he was here. He would be like a fallen tree, in a silent forest. Out of sight, out of mind.

Releasing a breath, he got to his feet unsteadily. He wasn't about to miss this chance. If he did, he might not have another. Being in one piece was a miracle enough. However, much luck he had, he wasn't interested in being on the wrong end when it ran out. With conflicting hesitation, he raised both arms and began to wave.

"Here!" Alex shouted. "Over here! I'm--"

A voice lifted from shore in reply, closely followed by the loud pop of a gun. Alex froze.

Are they shooting at me? He thought, dropping his hands. He stepped back, terrified as a large projectile spun towards him. Hitting him with deadly accuracy, the balled contraption knocked him onto his back. Sucking in the breath he lost, he screamed.

A red-brown jumpsuit spread across his body with a low hum as if powered by an electric motor. Sleeves enwrapped his arms and legs, their straps snapping in place with a click. Flaps folded over his rear as the strange anomaly zipped up along his spine automatically. Strong magnets pulled his wrists together before him, and black plastic slid out from a compartment to snap over them.

Alex stared at his bound hands, and the suit encasing him. "What's--what's this?"

He hadn't the time to ponder further. A revving engine split the air as a speed boat rode over the waves with a beeline for him. Using elbows to scramble to his feet, Alex stumbled away. Making about as much progress as an elderly man with a cane, the blond yelped as the vehicle pulled up with a wave.

Alex gasped as it drenched him with a broadside of water. He went down sputtering. Unable to catch himself, he rolled only to be dragged up and into the speed boat by two men.

"Get off me!" Alex yelled, thrashing around like a guppy as one man held him down.

He was a large man, thickly muscled and solidly built despite his older age. His pepper-black hair shined with oily sheen--tapered on the sides in the classic military cut, while its gel seemed to transfer into the bushy brows furrowed over his dark blue eyes.

Reaching over his head, Alex watched as the man disengaged the black bindings of his wrist. He was kneeled on Alex's back with a hand on his head, planting his face firmly into the deck, incapacitating him.

Alex gritted his teeth against the pain, struggling in vain to lift his head. He gasped, unable to hold his voice back as his assaulter's knee grated into his spine. The man released his head only to jerk back his arms, one after the other behind his back. The bindings snapped back over his wrists, and the weight of the man lifted.

# 8

# HEIST

**-- ALEX--**

Blinking back tears, Alex looked back at his adversary, seething. He kicked out wildly on the deck; he missed once, then twice, but when the man stepped in to grab him, his third kick connected.

His satisfied grin was short-lived as a fist crashed into his vision. He saw naught but an explosion of stars as the man's knuckles collided with his face. Alex's head snapped back and smacked hard against a wooden deck with a solid wrap. Reeling from the blow, he curled into a ball and tucked his face into his knees in the futile effort to protect himself.

His second capturer watched him from the bridge. Darkly uniformed like his partner, he was a slight man in and around his mid-twenties with dull brown eyes, dark hair, and a lightly freckled face.

"Target secured," he said, speaking into the boat's com with an easy smile.

"Routing back to shore," an automated voice replied. It was only then that Alex realized neither of the men were steering. The boat was driving itself.

The large man dragged him up by the collar. "You want to try that again, Oddity?"

Alex pursed his lips and spit in his eye. The man recoiled with a shout and threw him. Hitting the wooden planks, the blond tumbled into the other end of the boat. He coughed as his head knocked into its metal side and grimaced, dazed.

"Hey, leave off him," the freckled man said, jumping down from the bridge. "The kid's disoriented. He doesn't know where he is."

"Heh," his burly companion said as he rubbed his eye. "The prick should've thought twice before spitting in my eye. Piece of--pah, he should count himself lucky. If not for the higher-ups, I'd have thrown him back into the lake."

"You can't throw oddities back, Lyle."

"If he happened to die, I'd be inclined to try."

The younger man took a knee beside Alex with a concerned expression. "He just got scooped up from the lake like a sack of fish. How can you expect him to know what's what?"

"He knows what's going on well enough," Lyle said, fishing out a cigarette as he leaned against the railing. "Else he wouldn't have fought." Catching Alex's eyes, the man lifted a fist at him and smirking as he flinched, Lyle laughed. "I take that back," he said, smoking his narcotic. "The boy's about to crap himself."

Alex gritted his teeth, but his lunge forward was stopped by his second captor's hand.

Lyle laughed louder. "What are you playing his nursemaid now, Fred? That's rich. Slap the dazed look off of his face and wipe up his blood, I like my punching bags to be clean 'fore I hit them again."

"Ignore him," Fred repeated. "He'll only get louder if you give him more fuel. He's an instigator. He hates this job and his life."

Alex reluctantly leaned back against the boat wall. Nodding his approval, Fred handed him a small plastic bag of blue fluid.

"Drink it."

Whipping a hand across his mouth, Alex gave the man a dubious look. "What is it?"

"Fluids," Fred said and looked down as he popped the straw out of the container. "It'll give you your strength back."

Alex appraised it for a moment, then at the man's nod, took a sip. The drink was odd, thick, and sweet like apples, yet it had the lingering fizz of soda. "What is this?"

"Does it taste good?" Fred asked, crossing his legs.

"Yeah..." Alex said. "Kind of." The wind ruffled his hair as they sped through the water. Land was in sight and grew closer by the second, while the towering palm trees of the beach seemed to wave them in like banners.

Alex shook the man's hand as he introduced himself and likewise told him his name. He paused and glanced back at the foaming water the boat's churning engine left behind.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"The Federation of Kaiga."

Alex looked at the man, confused. "Where's that? Asia?"

Fred put his chin on his hand, balancing his elbow on his knee with a calm expression. "You're not in your world anymore, Alex."

Alex blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

"It'll be easier to show you," the man said, gesturing at the fluid. "Keep drinking."

Alex did and sipped at it for a moment. Fred held up a hand before he could speak and smiled. "I'll answer your questions when you finish it."

Alex put his lips back to the straw with a frown. His prior soreness had numbed from the drink, but contrary to the man's words, the youth felt tired. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes to ward off a sudden spell of sleepiness. He blinked again, longer this time, and stopped drinking. He could hardly feel his fingers as he pinched himself. He looked at Fred, drowsily.

"I thought..." He said, barely able to keep his concentration to form the words. "I thought that this... it did--didn't it do--doesn't it--energy..."

The plastic bag hit the deck. Its straw tipped over, and blue leaked out to spread across the wood. Alex stared at his hand, listlessly. It laid limply by his side. Strangely enough, he could keep a grasp on the panic that welled within him.

The emotion rose and fell, only to sail off and vanish from him as if it'd never been. The lids of his eyes drooped at half mask. His tongue was heavy, and his limbs refused to move. He blinked, then closed his eyes. Opening them again, he swallowed with difficulty. Someone, a figure blurred before him.

"You..." He said and finished the sentence in his mind as his eyes closed. "You drugged me."

"Sweet dreams, Oddity." A voice whispered beyond the darkness.

------

Alex woke with a start. He was no longer in the speedboat. He was no longer outside. He sat in a windowed cockpit of a machine. He could feel the hum of his engine as it carried him forward. A holo-dash and digital steering wheel glowed before him.

Like the boat, this vehicle was also self-automated. Automobiles like it zipped along beside it within the bounds of glowing lanes. Looking out, his green eyes widened. The scenery had shifted. They drove through the sky.

"Oh, you're awake."

Alex snapped his head to the side, startled. Fred stared at him with an easy smile.

"Did you enjoy your nap?" he asked.

"What?" Alex slurred, barely able to form the word.

The man chuckled. "Don't try to speak," he cautioned. "Your tongue is going to be a little numb."

"You--"

Alex balled his hand into a fist and threw the punch. Or at least, that's what he'd intended. His limply curled hand missed the man completely. Fred caught him before he could fall over and eased him back in his seat, laughing.

"Looks like we were right to sedate you after all."

Alex glared at him and wrinkled his nose. The acrid smell of smoke lingered in the air. Besides Fred, Lyle smoked. The fumes he blew were sucked up by a suction in his window, and purifier pumped fresh air into the cabin yet, it could still hardly keep up. The man smoked like a chimney.

"Ah, but I apologize for the deception," Fred said with a slight smile. "It's easiest to move your types under sedation but don't worry, it won't happen again."

"Where--" Alex began. "Where am I--?"

"Going?" Fred finished. "To a place with answers. Answers for you that is."

Alex rolled his shoulders back stiffly. His hands were still bound behind him.

"Hold still," Fred said and tapped a virtual button at the air, Alex couldn't see. The cuffs receded around his wrists. Moving his arms in front of him, the blond flexed his hands as the man taped the air again. The magnets at his wrists activated and snapped back together. The black cuffs encircling them once again.

"Hopefully, that's more comfortable," Fred said with an apologetic smile. "Unfortunately, those can't be removed until we've safely delivered you to your destination."

"Ah, shut up," Lyle said, annoyed, opening his eyes. "You two are talking too much."

"I have to recuperate him,"

Lyle dropped his cigarette into the suction cup and pulled up his virtual interface with a flick of his hand. "No, you don't."

"Lyle, what are you doing?"

"Restoring my peace," the older man said as he pulled out another box of cigarettes.

"No, don't--" Fred protested. His eyes widened as his hands passed through his partner's interface like helpless birds.

Tapping a command, Lyle lit a cigarette against a burner and looked Alex dead in the eyes. "Go back to sleep."

Fred gave Alex a frantic look as a needle spun out of the collar of his jumpsuit and went into his neck.

"Injecting sedative," a mechanical voice announced.

Alex winced as the drug was shot into his vein. Pulling out just as quickly, the needle disengaged and dropped off. He paled and coughed, touching his head as a wave of nausea, overcame him.

"Damn it, Lyle," Fred began. "He was supposed to stay awake during the transfer..."

Alex could no longer hear him. Words trailed off as if swept away by the wind. His vision blurred, and blackness took him under as forcefully as the waves of the lake. Eyes closing, he fell forward.

# 9

# MAGNANIMOUS

**-- MELISSA--**

"And here," Leptin said, pointing to another line on the document. "Sign there too. First name, last name, and signature."

Kevin, Melissa, and Leptin were the only ones in the room. Her bodyguards stood vigil outside while her friends had left for class. On the desk was a pile of papers and beside it, a certificate of guardianship.

Melissa gave the headmaster a look. "You said it would only be a couple things."

"It has been," he said.

"You've handed me over eight things."

"Oh," he said and tapped the paper. "It's nice you're keeping count."

"You're a flake."

"Don't curse," Leptin said, putting an oily finger to her mouth. "This is an educational environment."

Melissa jerked from him, disgusted. "Don't touch me."

The man smiled and gestured to the last document. "Sign."

She did so, and as he reached to take his pen back, she dropped it and returned the smile. "Oops."

The pen clattered to the ground.

"Childish," Leptin said and flicked a finger. The pen flew up into his hand.

"Oh yeah, use titus," Melissa said, rolling her eyes. "That's cool."

"People use what's at their disposal," the headmaster explained. He placed his pen atop the documents. "You may go."

Melissa turned away. "Finally."

"Do something so stupid as to run from your guards again," he said after her, "and something may be taken away."

She continued forward without looking back. "It'll be taken anyway."

"They're there to protect you, Melissa. Hiding behind an electrified door makes their mission that much harder."

Kevin grabbed her arm as she put her hand on the door. "Listen when someone is talking to you."

"It doesn't matter," she muttered but looked back.

Leptin's dark eyes were cold. "Forget your position again, and something you like may be taken away. Keep that in mind."

Melissa swiped her hand across the door. It flashed blue and slid open. "It's not like I have any freedom anyway."

"You have more than you think."

"No," she said, walking out. "I don't."

Kevin caught up to her. "Melissa."

Gaze down, she walked faster.

_Are you hoping he won 't say anything? _Shadow asked. _You know he will. He always does._

"Shut up," she muttered.

Kevin raised his eyebrows. "I was just going to say, you're going to be late." No sooner had he said it, the bell rang.

She looked at him. "You jinxed it."

"It rang according to the time."

She looked at her wrist. The time glowed on her skin. Eight on the dot. "When's the ceremony again?"

For a moment, Kevin didn't answer. "There won't be one for you."

She stopped. "What?"

"You'll begin packing after the prep-class. You leave for Corpus tomorrow."

"Wait. What about my diploma?"

"Leptin already has it."

"Already has it?" she said, her eyes swung back the way they'd come. "He's already lost it!"

Ignoring her, the warden stepped past her. "You'll leave in the morning."

"No."

"Yes, you are."

"No," she repeated and swallowed. "Eight years--I studied for eight years and--"

"You weren't made to walk the same stage as everyone else," Kevin said. "The Keepers have made their decision Melissa, now come along."

She scuffed her foot on the floor's white marble. "I don't--I don't want to."

"You don't have a choice."

Melissa stepped back as he stepped forward.

The warden's eyes narrowed. "Melissa..."

"This--this is pointless," Melissa stuttered and ripped off her black necktie. I might as well not even go to class."

He stepped again. So did she.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your friends?"

Her expression darkened. "I have no friends."

"Not again," Kevin said and lunged for her. Evading his grasp, she bumped into one of her guards.

"Grab her!" The order cracked from the warden like a whip. Melissa lurched to the side in a mad scramble to get away, and nearly running into the wall in her escape, she bolted.

"Melissa!"

The warden's words gave her a boost to run faster. The heavy footsteps of their boots had her dashing out the building's doors at a full sprint. She winced as the sun's rays fell into her eyes and cried out as her foot stepped off the automated path. Ungracefully falling over herself, she tumbled into the grass.

She pushed herself up with a groan and looked over her shoulder. In truth, she knew running was a futile act. To try to escape, the inescapable was useless. For where could she run when nothing but walls stretched before her. Inside and out, the academy, there was nowhere to hide. It was as it would always be. She was a prisoner...but one that dared to dream.

She screamed as a hand grabbed her and jerked away further from the automated path. She saw her dream burn before her eyes. Ah, yes, she was a prisoner.

Pulling Melissa in, Kevin clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. Twisting and kicking like a mad thing, Melissa struggled. It wasn't wrong to want to be free. She sunk her teeth into his flesh. Blood flowed onto her tongue. She wanted to live. For to truly do so, was the greatest gift of all. Letting loose a curse, the warden wrenched her arms behind her and put her in the ground.

_Living... _She wondered, turning her eyes up to the sky as she gasped. _Is it really so wrong?_ There were few who lived and most who existed...yet, who was the robber of such freedom? Was it the few? Or the many? Blood pumped through her veins and heart beated in her body. She was flesh and bone. A person, just like any other. One and the same. So why? Why was it so hard to be treated as a human being?

She watched as a bird snapped its wings out into the open air. She envied it, wanted to be it. To soar free and leave all the pain behind.

Hey, Shadow, she thought listless. What would it be like, to never have been born?

"Melissa," Kevin said, shaking her. She coughed as his weight lifted off her shoulders. "Hey," he pestered and sat her up. "Are you listening?"

She turned away from him. "No."

He gave her a hard look. "Before and now--why did you run?"

She didn't answer.

The other guards bent over behind him, breathing hard. They stared at her with wide eyes, disbelief writ over their faces. They'd obviously expected her to be different. No, to stay different and continue to be the cultured princess she had presented herself to be. The reality was ugly.

"Useless," Kevin said as one of them coughed. He touched her arm with false concern. "Can't you see you're just making this harder for yourself?"

Melissa flung his arm aside. "When has it not been hard?"

"What is with you today? Why are you--"

She shut her eyes. "I just want to live!" She looked at him, eyes brimming with tears. "Why? Why is that so wrong?"

He stared at her.

"Tell me!"

His hand met her face in a slap. Teardrops flew into the air as her face snapped to the side. The clap of the blow rang in her ears. Reaching up, she touched her cheek with a trembling hand.

The warden clenched his hand with livid eyes. "Shut up." She stared at him as a tear dropped onto her face. "What makes you think that you have the right to complain?" he continued, unsympathetic. "There are soldiers out there right now, fighting on the borders. Risking their lives--losing their lives, against the Victashia. You're their hope. Their salvation. They're waiting for you to grow up and mature. But looking at you now, I'm sorry to see them bother."

Another tear dropped from her eye.

Kevin let loose a breath. "I am here to guard you, not chase you down. Man-hours aren't designed to entertain your antics."

"I never had a choice," Melissa whined, the words caught in her throat with a sob. "I didn't want to be born this way. I never--"

The black-haired man appraised her for a moment before looking away. "The price of your freedom isn't something you can repay."

A set of silent tears joined the first down the Paragon's face. "Because I've already been paid for?"

"Because freedom is false. The faster you acknowledge its illusion, the better off you'll be." He put a hand on her shoulder. "The world doesn't ask you what you want. It hands you a burden you're forced to carry."

Pulling her knees to her chest, the girl ducked her head. A quiet sob shook her body. "Then, it needs to take it back."

Pain was sorrow of the worst kind. Inflicted by loneliness, she was a soul worn down by expectations. It was sad that the only one who truly knew her was a cunning man. Manipulative and cruel, she'd known and knew again he would always be on their side. Yet like anyone, all she'd craved in the world was love. There were moments he was like a father to her and others when he was a cold, calculating creature of the state.

"Do you want to be locked up in the facility again?" Kevin asked, prodding her. "Do you?" His grey eyes were suddenly icy. He forced her face up with a hand. "Look at me, Melissa. Look at me." His gaze bore into hers, stony and detached. "Get your act together. A Paragon without the will to fight is worth nothing at all."

His brow furrowed as her tears continued.

"No," he murmured and closed his eyes. "I didn't mean that." He touched her hair. "I'm sorry... but you have to grow up, Melissa. You have a legacy to uphold."

"I never asked for it."

"Melissa--"

"No!" she said, shrinking from him. "I don't want it. I never asked to be a Paragon. If you want it so bad, then you should take it!"

"Shush..." he said and patted her shoulder reassuringly. "It's not mine. It's yours." He wiped a thumb over her eyes. "Remember now, a Paragon doesn't cry." He ran a hand over her hair. "The only one that can protect this country is _you_."

Sniffing, Melissa rubbed her face on her sleeve. Pathetic. She was pathetic. A person's life could not change with tears alone. Her purple eyes drifted across the empty courtyard. Birds trilled in the trees, while squirrels scrambled up their trunks.

_There is no freedom,_ she thought. _At least...not for me._

_Nope._ Shadow said. _Not for anyone._

# 10

# PRESENT AND PAST

**-- MELISSA--**

Melissa looked down at the floor. The faint light of the classroom washed into the dimly lit hall from the crack in the door. A hand pushed her forward. She looked back.

"Go inside and say goodbye," her warden said. The circles under his eyes seemed darker in the corridor. His expression was sullen, weary. He was tired. Tired of her, tired of his ten-year service and maybe... even his life.

_Good,_ she thought. _I also want him gone._

Impatient, he pressed her hand to the door. A white light scanned her palm, and the door flashed blue before sliding open. Kevin released her wrist.

"Go," he said, gesturing for her to enter.

It was an average-sized class. Few students she knew by name, but their faces she all recognized. Digital notebooks propped and connected to the glass displays were installed on each chair. The seats were arranged in double rows attached to four tables. Silver lights hung above, glowing on equally silver floors with the white feather sigil of the academy embellished in the black stone wall.

Armed with a stylus, Daniel doodled on his display while his sister stared out the wall of paneled windows, cordless ear-circles fitted into her ears. Seated in the front row over, Sierra faked her attention to the lecture as she added to the gossip of the academy's message board. Amongst the twenty students of the class, only Melissa's seat in the back beside the window remained empty.

"Late again?" questioned the Instructor as Melissa entered.

"I'm not on time," the blonde retorted. "As you can see."

Red-haired with a hooked nose and old fashioned spectacles, Mrs. Bethum was a wrinkled woman. The bronze stars on her collar ranking her a officate elite. She regarded Melissa with a taut line of a smile, the rhythmic tap of her long plexi-stylus against her hand the only sound to be heard. The stylus came down for the last time.

"It's nice of you to finally join us, Miss Bellheart."

On cue, the entire class rose and bowed their heads.

"Paragon," they said in unison.

Melissa nodded back in acknowledgment. "At ease."

The all too familiar squeak of hinges started up as students swung their chairs back to take their seats. Finding her own, Melissa turned her eyes out the window with a sigh. Another morning of respect. Would it kill them to treat me like everyone else for a change?

She jumped as Mrs. Bethum's stylus struck her table. The Instructor looked at her across her neighboring students. The woman's eyes were like daggers under her carefully sculpted brows.

"So many minutes have passed after the bell that I had almost assumed you weren't going to make it," the Instructor said dryly.

Melissa lowered the hand her head had been resting on. "I was held up."

"A poor excuse," the woman said, her nasal voice was as grating as nails on chalkboards. "One should not use their rank to defy the rules."

Melissa pushed a strand of hair haughtily over her shoulder. "Rules are meant to be broken." She got a few snickers from her fellow students, namely her friends.

Looking around, the Instructor snapped the stylus onto the table. The silence of the room resumed. "The system is in place for a reason," the woman reminded, staring at Melissa. "It will not work if its highest members are in contempt. Society is a cycle of cooperation. Nobles govern, tiers protect, and the tierless produce. It is all one cohesive unit, each class block supporting the other. Thus, it has been since the beginning, and so will it prevail."

"Right," Melissa said.

Bethum lifted her nose. "Of course, I'm right. I am an Instructor."

Passing behind the other students, she stood before Melissa with an open hand.

The blonde gave her a quizzical look. "What?"

"Your pass."

"Leptin forgot--"

"Leptin?" Bethum queried.

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Principal Leptin forgot to give me a pass."

"That's not an excuse."

"Well," the girl said, "it's the only one I have."

Mrs. Bethum's blue gaze found Kevin's. He affirmed Melissa's words with a concurring nod.

"Humph," the woman said, folding the long stylus under her arm. She regarded her student as one would a fly. "Count yourself lucky this your last day at this school and that I'm not in the mood to care."

"Oh, I will," Melissa said as the woman turned. "In your dreams..."

"I thought it wasn't right to break the rules," Sierra called out with a smug expression as Mrs. Bethum strolled down the central aisle towards the widescreen of the front wall. The woman paused and gave the girl a stern look.

"Bent, Miss Goethe, is not broken."

"Then..." Daniel said with a wolfish smile. "Can we leave?"

"No," Bethum said sharply with a scathing expression. "You will sit through my class just like everyone else, including me. Hopefully, you'll learn something. Namely manners."

Daniel's eyes danced mirthfully. "Is that what will be taught?"

"Be quiet, Mister Strata, lest I strike your name from the list of graduates and send you home in shame."

Daniel sat up, straighter. "Understood." His smirk, however, had yet to fade. Mrs. Bethum tapped her stylus on the screen wall, and the next slide of her presentation appeared. She turned toward the class.

"I said last class that I would go over a review of the contents of the final exam. This last lesson will prove invaluable for you following your transition to your battle academy or trade school. This is a refresher." The screen depicted an enlarged silvery-white mass, something resembling a mash between a brain cell and the sun.

"Now," Bethum continued, "as you know, titus is an energy that can be used and harnessed for a wide variety of sectors across the Counterclossum. The world, nature, and our lives are heavily influenced by it in daily life. Titus powers technology, fuels machines, and is the focal point for research and advances in science, medicine, and industry."

The slide moved to a ball of fire. "Manipulation of the elements has branched off into over a thousand recognized and pseudo classifications in titusology," Bethum said, letting go of her stylus. It stayed in the air, floating just below her hand. She looked at the class. "Titus is quite likely the greatest gift man has ever received from the Dark Realm." The screen's slide changed to a colored scale. "Users with the aptitude to freely manipulate it specialize in a wide variety of fields. Most people, however, are limited..."

Putting her chin on her hand, Melissa stared out the window. It was easy enough to ignore the lecture. It was something she knew. Titus, after all, was a part of her. How else could she be a paragon?

Mrs. Bethum yammered on for another half an hour about the makeup and structure of titus. The theories behind its discoveries and in-depth hypothesis regarding the basic requirements of a titus user. Finally, one amongst the class dared to speak.

"Instructor," Daniel said, raising his hand. "Why are you going over this again? Isn't it pointless if we graduate today?"

"It's called wasting time, Daniel," Sierra interjected. "Teachers do it when there's nothing left to teach."

"Oh," Daniel said and leaned back in his chair. "That makes sense." Before Mrs. Bethum could say a word, a red light lit up over the screen.

"All seniors begin to proceed to the auditorium for rehearsal," a monotone voice ordered over the intercom. "Attendance must be in full dress uniform. That is all." The light blinked out, and the Instructor's gaze slowly swept over her class. Daniel laughed at Mrs. Bethum's livid expression. Pushing back his chair, he stood.

"We can go, right?"

Stiffly, the woman tapped her stylus to the screen wall. The display darkened to black. "Everyone except the Paragon, head to the locker room to change."

Melissa stayed seated. She could feel the eyes of the other students watching her out of the corners of their eyes. She could sense their anxiety as they gathered their things. Their vigilance. If she stood, she'd force them to acknowledge her and give precedence, but if she made no move to leave, the procedural order would not be breached. As long as she remained seated, they could leave. It came as no surprise that first students out the door belonged to her table.

The rest of the class quickly followed suit. Students filed out the doors in clusters, jostling one another in a covert stampede. No one bothered to chat or linger for further instructions, so not be obligated to bow to her later down the hall. Disengaging first one ear circle than the other, Katelyn slowly rose to her feet, ignoring the fact that she was the last one at her table.

"So," she said and looked at Mrs. Bethum. "This was a waste of time, after all."

Bethum returned her gaze coolly. "Miss Strata--"

"Everyone knew that from the get-go," Sierra cut in, crossing the room. She flashed their teacher a fake smile. "You said so yourself, Mrs. Bethum."

"Perhaps," the woman said, after a moment. Her gaze shifted to Melissa. "Are you waiting for the Paragon?"

"I--" Sierra began.

"No," Katelyn said. "I'm not bowing to a fraud." She cast her stony grey gaze back at Melissa. "You copy."

"Yo," Daniel said, pausing by them. He handed his twin a slip of paper. "I'm going on ahead."

Melissa caught his eyes as he turned. "Daniel--"

"Later," he said and passed by without a smile. "Honor grads have to be early."

"Here," Katelyn said, flicking the note at her. "It's from Daniel."

The paper twirled in the air and dropped before Melissa could catch it. Ducking under the table, she picked it up. She stared at it in her hand. A shoddy little thing with fringed edges, it was likely ripped on its way out of a table printer. _What had Daniel written?_ She wondered. _Why on actual paper?_

"You're not going to say goodbye, either?" She heard Sierra say. Melissa pulled herself up and back into her chair as Sierra grabbed Katelyn's arm.

"Melissa won't be at the graduation," Sierra continued. "She's going straight to Corpus."

Katelyn threw her hand off her. "Like I care." Ever her brother's shadow, she trailed him out the door.

Melissa watched them go without a word. Friends... No, she had no friends. They were not, nor would they ever be. They were simply extras. Fellow students that'd intrigued her, those who in their absence of praise and attention, she had allowed to draw near. That was all.

Her gaze shifted as Sierra sheepishly stepped away.

"Actually," she said, "I have to go too."

"Really?" Melissa said, eyes hooded. "What a shame."

"Daniel's right," Sierra mumbled and noticed they were the only two left in the room. Even their Instructor had gone. "Honor grads have to be early." She gave a halfhearted wave. "See you at Corpus, okay?"

Without another word, she jogged towards the door. On her command, it opened for her. Melissa saw the hint of a smile play on her lips as it closed behind her. She was gone.

Melissa looked down at her hands. Again, I'm alone, she thought. No. She clenched her fists, crumpling the note in her hand. I never had anyone to begin with. This is the reality. A knock got her attention. Inside the frame of the open door, Kevin stared at her, waiting.

Her fingernails cut deeper into her palms as she closed her eyes. The truth of her pain was that she owned the loyalty of no one. Should she fall, she would be discarded. Should she rise, she would be controlled.

_Controlled?_ She thought dully, opening her eyes. _I always have been._

_And you always will,_ Shadow seemed to whisper. _Seemed._ Or was her alter ego just a lonely fragment of herself?

"Your class is empty," Kevin said. "Let's go."

------

The high powered turbines of the plasma-copter flared white as they gathered the titus in the air. Melissa looked on with her hands over her earphones. Even with hearing protection, the sound was unbearably loud. Her golden hair whipped about her, waving in the churned wind like wheat in air.

Principal Leptin walked in step beside her as they approached the military escort. They were at the front of the school, just outside its massive gates. Aside from the two plasma-copters, the parking lot held three armed cyper-tanks and a squad of elite soldiers equipped with solar-gear and lift-boots--who flanked six sleek black cars.

Opening the note Katelyn had given her, she skimmed its contents before the wind blew it away.

_Have a nice summer?_ Melissa thought, watching it vanish into a bush. _Looking forward to seeing you at Corpus? Really Daniel? You couldn 't have just said it?_

_You don 't have to worry, s_he heard the headmaster say in her head. It was only under such circumstances that his telepathy came in handy. She wouldn't have been able to hear him otherwise. _You 'll be in the second to last car,_ he continued. _It is the safest position in the escort. In the event that we 're attacked, which is highly unlikely, you won't be harmed. _

_The car will._ She thought back as he opened its backseat door.

_The car,_ he thought back, _is paid for._

_So am I._ She looked up wistfully before she ducked inside. Dotted with clouds, the bright blue canvas of the sky stretched on like an endless sea. The barred gate of Aizer was to her back and Corpus ahead. Her present had become her past. 

# 11

# DELIVERED

**-- ALEX--**

"Hey..." called a voice faintly.

Alex floated, drifting in an endless sea of nothingness which had neither a beginning or end. Blackness stretched in all directions. He was unsure of whether his eyes were open or closed.

Did he see at all?

The question faded in his mind like a leaf beneath a stream. He was serene, content yet...tired. That's right, he was at rest. Conserving energy for what was to come. But what was to come?

"Hey," the voice said again, resurfacing more insistently. Probing him, it nudged his consciousness to stay aware. It was annoying. He wanted only to drift away. Could it not understand his need for rest? Was it blind to his state of peace? It was bugging.

_But from what?_ His thoughts stirred. _What was I doing again?_

"Come on," the voice urged as light beat back the darkness. "Wake up."

Alex opened his eyes. Wincing against the brilliance of the midday sun, he shaded his face with a hand. Groggily, slowly, the world came into focus.

"Are you awake?"

Alex startled as someone tapped his shoulder. Brown hair, brown eyes--Fred stared down with a flashing smile. Alex blinked.

"Good," the man said. "You finally came round." Leaning in the car door, he took Alex by the arm and dragged him out.

"What?" Alex protested, disoriented. "What's going on? Who?" Gasping suddenly, he put his hand to his head. A spike of pain pounded behind his eyes. Harsh and relentless, it nailed him with a splitting migraine. Easing him back against the car, Fred waved a thin bar under his nose.

"Here," he said, placing it in his hand. "Eat this, it'll wake your body up." Alex dumped it on the ground.

"Forget it," he gasped with a hard look. "I'm not falling for it again." Swallowing, he turned his head against the car's cool frame and grimaced as the pounding in his skull continued. Fred picked up the bar. Its plastic cover crinkled in his hand.

"I wouldn't have woken you if I wanted you to stay asleep," he said, and held it out. "Eat it, it's a counteragent. I'll take away the pain."

Alex glared. "I can't believe anything you say."

Fred sighed and lowered the energy supplement. "Kid, you had two sedatives injected into your body in a short amount of time. You're lucky all you have to show for it is a headache and a drowsy body."

"You're one to talk," Alex murmured, holding his head. "You--"

The man's eyes narrowed. "Listen, I'm not about to argue with you, but if you want to walk on your own and be able to ask the questions, you want answers to, then eat." He pushed the bar into the youth's hands. "This will relieve the effects."

Alex looked at the supplement. The symbols of a strange language flowed across the blue wrapper, forming sentences he couldn't begin to read. He looked at Fred, then past him. Black windows stretched up a towering building. Supported by a base of alabaster marble, it was an imposing structure. Topped off by a pyramid crown, it cast a solemn shadow over the trio. It's dark stoned front rolled out to meet the pavement of an expanse parking lot where a multitude of air and land vehicles charged. Imperially styled with a silvery design along its side, it held an air of grand importance.

Similar skyscrapers rose around it, dwarfing the structure from behind. It was all a sight foreign to his eyes. The automated air-cars and charging stations, elegant infrastructure, and digital technology. The air was cool and crisp, clean. The wispy smoke of Lyle's cigarette being the only pollution that rose and vanished.

Unwrapping the bar, Alex took a bite. The man was right, he did have questions. Almost at once, he felt his head lighten, and migraine fade as he swallowed. The heaviness in his limbs subsided with his next bite and dulled sense of awareness slowly alleviated to restoration.

Crumpling the wrapper, Alex glanced at Fred. "So, what is this place?"

"The place we dump you," Lyle said and exhaled. A cloud of smoke rose into the air. Inhaling another puff of the cigarette, he dropped it and stepped away from the hood of the car. Crushing it, he snuffed the tobacco out beneath his shoe.

"I don't know why you don't just smoke the holo-types," Fred said, watching as the older man pulled another cigarette. "They're more environmental."

Lighting it, Lyle took a drag. "For what? Me or the planet?"

"Both."

A smiled spread with the man's exhale. Smoke curled from his mouth like steam rising from water. "Cigs are cigs," he said. Easing a hand in a pocket, he started towards them. "They'll destroy my lungs either way."

"If you know, then stop smoking."

Lyle's chuckle was hoarse. "Shut up."

Fred did.

Alex straightened with a shred of confidence. "You--you didn't answer my--"

"You too," the bulky man said. "Shut up." Alex drop the wrapper with a wary step back. The older man put a heavy hand on his partner's shoulder, his eyes crinkling. "Oh?" he said to the youth and grinned. "You're well trained."

Fred brushed off his hand. "Lyle--"

"Anyway," Lyle said and glanced at the tall building. "Let's get going." Fred looked at Alex. Catching the gaze, Lyle tossed his cigarette aside. "He's recovered, hasn't he?" He met Alex's eyes. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah," the blond said, looking down. "Let's--let's get going."

"Good," the man praised and turned. "Drag your feet, and you'll get what's yours, Oddity."

Shifting his foot, Alex didn't answer. It didn't matter. The man was uninterested in a response. Walking in a loose single-file, the three--captive and captors, entered the building.

Inside was an expanse light floored lobby ornamented by a skylight chandelier and ringed by the balconies of higher floors. A studious air hung over the area. Uniformed employees wearing small square hats scurried to a fro across its floors while others, individuals decked out in white and silver, walked at a more languid pace. It was an odd scene. The reception desk was staffed by a digital glass sphere rather than a person. Those with hats deferred to those without with bowed heads, mumbles of respect under their breath.

Ascending four floors in an elevator pod, Alex stepped out the metallic doors after Lyle. The trio went down one hall and up another in what felt like an endless maze of near-identical corridors. Already weary of the escapade, Alex gave the large man a quizzical look as they stopped before an office door serving as the hall's dead end. The words, _" DIRECTOR THREE"_ were etched across its glass.

"We part here, kid," Lyle said, turning. He swiped a hand at the air in a digital command, and the cuffs on Alex's hand retracted, slipping back into the jumpsuit as if they'd never been.

The blond looked at him, stunned. "How--how did you--?"

"You'll get your answers in here," Lyle said, placing a hand to the door. A light flashed over it in a scan, and it clicked open, revealing a large windowed office. Within, five men in white collared uniforms stood guard at various corners of the room. White wire curled from devices in their ears, while handguns glowed in their hostlers.

"Have a nice life, kid," Lyle said, shoving him inside. His eyes were sullen, almost sympathetic. "For your sake, I hope you adjust quickly."

The door swung shut with a click, locking Alex in amongst armed men. 

# 12

# ODDITY

**-- ALEX--**

The office was simply decorated. Two couches accompanied by a coffee table took up a corner of the room, and an old fashioned wall of stocked bookshelves, the office's other side. Ahead was a large mahogany desk. Two chairs faced one side. A larger one sat behind, faced away.

"Wilson Milson," said a voice behind the chair. The man in it turned toward Alex slowly. He was older, a man around his forties with gelled dark hair and deep, slate blue eyes. Strong jawed and good looking, his face seemed to be carved from stone. The slivers of silver shot through dark brown hair were the only denotation to his age. Like the people in the lobby, he wore a white uniform, yet the lapels on his shoulders were gold.

"Come now," he beckoned, smiling. "Don't be shy. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable." He pushed a document to the edge of the desk as Alex crossed over and sat in one of the chairs. The man held out a pen to the youth. "Fill it out."

Alex looked at it, but like the wrapper of the bar he'd eaten, the squiggles and symbols on the page were as clear as an ancient language. To him, it was just meaninglessness atop gibberish.

He understood not a word.

The document's blank lines and boxes were the only things he could make sense of. It was a basic record of some sort.

Alex stared at him. "What is this?"

"It'll serve as the first file in your data trail," Wilson explained impatiently, tapping the paper dramatically with the pen. "Fill it with your information. It's a simple instruction."

"That's not the problem."

"Ah," the man said and leaned back in his chair with a smirk. "Can't you read?"

Alex said nothing.

"You can't," the man affirmed. "Typical Oddity."

Wilson slid the document back and tapped it twice. A blue light on the desk rose around it, scanning its contents through the paper. A row of white keys rolled out before him. The man sighed with an irritated look. "I will fill it out for you. If you prove worthy, you will not have to learn to read Lansar script from scratch. You're already lucky enough to know the common tongue."

"Okay?" Alex said, confused and glanced back at the door. Hadn't his captors said this was the place for answers? What was with this paperwork? His gaze shifted to the white-collared men standing vigil at various points in the office. What was with them?

"Full name, first, middle and last," Wilson demanded dully and dropped his gaze to the virtual keyboard.

"Alexander Vince Mullholland," the youth said after a moment.

"Blood type?"

"A... I think."

"Good enough," the man said, typing. "It'll be verified later. Age and birthdate?"

"July 9th, 2001."

Wilson looked up. "And so you are...?

"Sixteen."

"Birthplace?"

Alex frowned. "Just what is...all this for? What do you want with my information?"

Wilson's laugh was mirthless. "Do you really think I'm going to repeat myself to you twice? Pah. No-tiers, I swear you worthless Oddities think you have rights. _Look_ , I am a Director." He gestured at Alex with a pen. "You are as far beneath me as the ocean is the sky--the odds of you reaching my level are just as slim. Therefore, I surmise, my statements are your principles, my requests your commands, and thoughts your beliefs. If I tell you to jump, you say how high. If I tell you to run, you say how fast and when I ask you a question, you answer. It's as simple as that."

Alex stared at him.

"Now again, where were you born? Say it before I give you someplace random."

"Portland, Oregon," Alex said, annoyed. Never in his life had he met such a person. Rank? Status? This all had to be a crappy dream.

Wilson looked at him. "Country?"

"The United States of America."

"Ah," the man said, his smile mocking. " _America._ So you're American."

"Yeah," Alex said. "What about it?"

"How is life over there in that country?"

Alex looked quizzical. "What are you talking about? Isn't this the future or something?"

"No," the man said flatly. "Of course not. Only Kaiga could be capable of this innovation. We're a kingdom of the mind."

"Kaiga?"

"This world," Wilson said. "My world is called _Euther_. It is far superior to your failing Earth, as is Kaiga to your... _USA_." He waved a hand and gestured to a small device hooked to his ear. "The Federation is leagues ahead of that stone-age society. Your people dabble with technology like children experiment with toys. The concept you have of future advancement is short-sighted and vague. You lack the basic ability to even manipulate your world at the material level. You have no imagination."

"Shut up," Alex said. "You've never even been there." This is a dream world anyway, he thought, sullenly. My crash probably put me in a coma.

"I have read the writings of Oddities from your country," Wilson said. "They're as ignorant, narrow-minded, and baselessly arrogant as you."

"At least I'm not delusional," the youth said with a smirk. "Kaiga and Eurther? I mean, I know I'm dreaming, but what are you? A writer? Oh, right, my bad, you're a director." He waved a hand. "Just another starving artist trying to live the dream. But I guess you're successful enough to employ bodyguards. Did you pick me up to inspire your next movie, or are you simply insane? More importantly, what are you planning to do with my information?" He leaned forward. "What is this place?"

Folding his hands, Wilson turned his chair to the side. "You, Oddities, are all the same." He nodded to the walled window behind him. "Look out and tell me what you see. Are there air vehicles in your world? Is there titus? If you doubt my sanity, you should reexamine your own."

"Like this isn't all a dream," Alex muttered. "How did I get here then?" He smirked. "Or are you going to tell me you teleported me too?" _Ridiculous,_ he thought. _He doesn 't even know who I am. What the Mulholland name owns. Grandmother would crush him._

"I've already told you," the man said calmly.

"What that I'm an Oddity? Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Right now, you're an unknown. An illegal alien of sorts. You have no background, no records or documentation of any kind. You're not in the national system and, thus, at present, you are a person who does not exist. Of course, this would be your opportunity to create a new identity, have a new life and fresh start if you weren't being monitored by the lie detector above you."

Stunned, Alex looked up. A circular device, much like a smoke detector, blinked red on the ceiling. "You've been monitoring me?"

Wilson indicated a finger to the device below his ear. "I've also been watching you through this while you were in the watchmen's custody." He chuckled. "You are quite amusing when you're mad. I've never seen someone so stupid as to fight with the patrols. It's your luck that you fell from the Dark Realm. Luckily disobedience can be forgiven, else you wouldn't still be alive."

"Wait, what?" _Not alive?_ Alex thought. _As in...execution? Murder?_

"You're a healthy teenager, are you not?" Wilson turned back to his desk. His hands were poised above its keys. "You have no records of serious illness or medical issues? Asthma, diabetes, maybe surgeries or chickenpox?"

Alex shook his head. "Chicken pox's been cured since forever."

"But not the others?" the man said and smirked. "Your medicine is still pitiful."

Alex bristled. "And how would you know? Have you ever been to America?" He perked up. "Is there a way back?"

"The last one of you to drop into Kaiga died fifty years ago. But, your answer to my question was no, correct?"

"Yeah, but how--"

"Good," Wilson said, entering the information. "I'd hate to quarantine you. It's a tedious process." The symbols he typed in, appeared on the document. "Anyway, this documentation will grant you the special status of an Oddity and incorporate you into the national system as a registered citizen." He looked up. "Any more questions?"

"What did you mean by the _Dark Realm_?" Alex asked. "Do you mean that purple barrier thing?"

"If that's what you fell out of, yes."

"And what is it?"

Seeming to ignore him, Wilson tapped his fingers in the air and executed a command on his digital display. "The Dark Realm is the origin of this world. Some theories call it the medium between Earth and Eurther, others claim it to be a mysterious black hole, but the official truth sanctioned by the King and Keepers defines it as the center of the world--a rift containing infinite power. People like you fall through every century or so. Some are old, others young, but _most_ have...potential."

"Potential for what?" Alex asked.

"Titus."

"Which is...?"

Wilson waved a dismissive hand. "If you have the power to conduct it, then I'll tell you. If you don't, then someone else will."

The door swung open, and a short woman with a small square hat entered. Walking over to the desk, she bowed her head to Wilson as she took the completed document off the desk.

"Your excellency," she said and stepped away, leaving just as quickly as she'd had entered.

"Truthfully," Wilson continued. "You're the only one I've ever met."

"One of what?"

"Oddities," the director said, peeved. "Do try to keep up. Or is there cotton in your brain?"

Alex ignored the insult. "Has any Oddity ever found their way back? To Earth?" He was really joking with the man. Halfway... anyway. Where he fell from and where he was now, the two parallels were too different for him to believe. From his motorcycle to a parallel world. Although, it couldn't truly be parallel if one's technology surpassed the other. The connection between them alone was bizarre. It was all too fictitious to be real. Strange and otherworldly.

Wilson's eyes went dark. "Earth? Why? Do you wish to return?"

"And if I do?"

"As long as you don't, you'll be fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Wilson smiled. "Exactly what it sounds like."

"Is that a threat?"

Wilson waved a hand. "I don't remember saying that."

"But you just--"

The director cut him off. "The majority of Oddities have painted their countries on Earth as ones to be war-torn, ravaged by disease, and rampant with poverty. Why would you ever want to go back to such a place? Kaiga is the better choice. The air and water are clean, all citizens work and are sheltered; everyone has a place. If you have potential, you'll be granted the unconditional respect of the tierless. You'd be held in high regard and esteem among your peers and receive reward for your loyal service to the crown."

Alex couldn't help but laugh. "The States," he said matter-of-factly, "America isn't war-torn, let alone starving."

"It's not as prosperous as Kaiga," the director countered. "Not as technologically advanced or innovative." The spark of patriotism in his eyes had twisted into a dark enmity. "It's no great place."

Alex glanced toward the guards in the room, suddenly nervous. He had a bad feeling about this place. Something was off. He'd felt it ever since he'd walked in the building. It was more than a strict air and sullen demeanor by all who were in the building, it was its quiet sense of fear. A vigilant alertness and underlying anxiety which hung over the place like a shroud. He'd felt it from Fred and Lyle. He'd wondered why they'd been so quick to leave. He didn't any longer.

"Wilson," Alex asked tepidly. "Is Kaiga...democratic?" Wilson's gaze turned contemptuous.

" _Democracy,_ " the director scoffed, disgust trailed the word. "No." He stood suddenly, and the guards in the room snapped to attention. Wilson clasped his hands behind him in a military manner. "Kaiga is not so petty as to promise people power and give them none," he preached, looking down on the youth. "We are not the hypocritical Victashia. We do not debate endlessly around an oracle for her pleasure. Kaiga is structured; it is resolute and disciplined. The citizens follow the laws of the Keepers and will of the King unquestioningly." His eyes narrowed. "And now that you are one of us, you do the same."

Alex stared at him open-mouthed, barely able to find his words. He could see the guards behind him move out the corners of his eyes. "Is this place... a dictatorship?"

Wilson's eyes flashed. "Monarchy. Of which you are a citizen."

Alex stood slowly. He glanced back at the door. His instincts screamed at him to leave, and intuition warned him of the imminent danger. "No," he said stupidly. "I'm--"

The simultaneous clicks of five holsters unclasping stopped him mid-sentence. His eyes widened as the two guards stationed on either side behind Wilson, pulled their guns on him. Alex watched the reflections of the three other guards in the window's glass follow suit. The hair on his neck rose as their aim locked on him. Fear shot through him in a jolt as a low hum stirred the air with charging weapons.

_Lasers?_ He thought, freezing in place. _Are they planning to zap me?_

"Target identified," an automated voice said quietly. Alex felt his heart skip a beat with its next words. "Locked. Ready to fire."

"Hmm?" Wilson inquired with a venomous smile. "You are, what exactly? Now comes the time to choose. Voiced loyalty is the root of true devotion. Are you Kaigan? Or...are you American?"

Alex swallowed. _This is a dream. Just a --just a dream. It'll be just like the lake. I can't... _He looked at one of the guns pointed at him. _I can 't die._

"Choose," Wilson demanded. "Kaigan or American? Which are you?"

A drop of sweat rolled off Alex's chin. "Kai--Kaigan," he said meekly.

The director raised a hand, and the guns lowered.

"Disengaged," the automated voice said. "Safety lock restored."

Wilson nodded at Alex. "Good, good. You choose correctly. Earth is of your former life, a lesser life. Kaiga is your future and present. You cannot cling to one and be a citizen of another, you understand. It's unfortunate that not everyone does. Some Oddities must be... _released_ from their newfound citizenship when they fail to come to terms with their true identity." His eyes gleamed. "However, when they choose right, _few forget_."

# Afterword

Thank you so much for reading Paragon.

Paragon was the first story we've ever written. As siblings we fought a lot over the plot, it's nostalgic now that it's published and story is close to our hearts. We'd feel privileged to know if you enjoyed it.

**Why not leave a review?**

If you like our work, consider subscribing to our **Science-Fantasy Newsletter** **(** **<http://eepurl.com/g7vP91>** **)** and receive updates on the upcoming novels we're working on. Being personally included on our email list will also ensure that you get solicited in offers for free books, sneak peeks and the opportunity to help as a beta reader in the last steps of our publishing process.

**Future Releases Will All Be FREE For You**

**Subscribe Here:** Science Fantasy Newsletter

**<http://eepurl.com/g7vP91>**

Thank you for supporting us!

#  About the Author

**Authors - Siblings - Military Veterans**

The author of the Dark Light Series and My Life as Death---D.J. Hoskins is brother and sister duo. Military veterans, we believe our experience lends an edge to our work. While we enjoy sending characters into conflict, we're not all about war. There is something of an emotional realism and political touch to our sci-fi & fantasy. Over the years we've been deeply influenced by Asian work, most notably Japanese Anime and Chinese Dramas. Despite being separated half-way around the world, due to assignments, we do our best to still find the time to write.

And hey,

Why not join our **Science-Fantasy Newsletter** (<http://eepurl.com/g7vP91>)

and stay in the know? Special offers and free books of upcoming releases are included. You could even be a beta reader and help in our last steps of the publishing process.

As always,

Thanks for your support.

####  You can connect with me on:

     https://djhoskinsbooks.com

     https://www.facebook.com/djhoskinsbooks

####  Subscribe to my newsletter:

     http://eepurl.com/g7vP91 

#  Also by D. J. Hoskins

Join us in the next book of the Dark Light Series.

##  PARALYSIS

--The sequel to Paragon--

Alex is beaten.

Melissa is ambushed.

Where do they go from here?

**Don 't let go. They aren't ready.**

Find it Online in All Your Favorite Stores  
https://djhoskinsbooks.com/dark-light-series/books/
