Destinguishing my surroundings, I see a Golden thread, shimmering with a strange warmth, then another and another—each one gleaming with fragile hope—and another and another...Countless threads wove together—millions, maybe billions—making counting them impossible. Endless strands thickened into golden cords, weaving a vast web.
At the center sat a mysterious creature, a person, maybe. Holding and caressing hundreds of moving threads, it slowly wove some structure.
Its creation was still in the early stages, making it unrecognizable and impossible to determine what it was creating, what kind of intentions it had. Moving each thread orderly, every single one placed with purpose and care, every movement more precise than any master of his craft would ever be able to achive, uterly inhumane.
The creature shifted its gaze, drifting from the threads it was holding, and slowly turned toward... me? What I saw was not its true form but merely a silhouette of what one would assume to be a human. Before I could see its face or where the silhouette of its face would be...
***
Suddenly, the golden web and mysterious creature fade, and I jolt awake in an unfamiliar environment, tears running down my face.
Noctis tried to wipe them away, but something held his left hand in place, making his attempts futile.
Looking down, a handcuff holding his wrist fell into his line of sight, with the other side of it chained to the bed he was lying on.
With his free right hand, he finally wiped away the tears and stared at the remnants now spread across his palm, a bit dazed.
Why?
Of course, he had many reasons to be crying, like all of his stuff being destroyed, or how his already bad financial circumstances were now an absolute catastrophe.
And, Yet for some reason, he felt that this was not the reason for his tears. That there was something else, something completely different, utterly unfathomable.
Vaguely remembering dreaming about something, something of great importance, but being unable to recall what it was.
Pushing these thoughts aside, Noctis had more urgent matters to attend to. looked around, seriously analyzing his environment, and recalled what had happened. It seems I'm in a clinic. Considering the handcuff, I can assume I'll be questioned, or... worse.
He was wearing a blue hospital gown and had a bandage wrapped around his head. The room was meant for a single person, which was surprising and, at the same time, not really surprising, considering his circumstances and his own theories.
Letting out a resigned sigh and mumbling to himself, "Why did that guy stop his actions and simply leave?" continuing in a conflicted tone, "And what did he mean by 'Interesting?' and why did he say we would meet again?"
Frustrated and confused, Noctis sighs again, looking down at his completely fine hand.
"Did I throw something at that guy or not?"
He wondered aloud.Internally questioning Reality itself and what could be truly trusted. Struggling to make sense of his surroundings and distract himself from these thoughts, a nurse walking by noticed that he had awoken.
A bit startled by the looks of it, she ran off somewhere in a hurry.
Not in a position to change his circumstances with his actions, he resigned himself to what was to come, a slight hope shimmering in his heart.
After waiting a few minutes, the nurse returned, accompanied by a man; he wasn't wearing that coat anymore, but that was clearly the man whom he had last seen before falling unconscious.
Now that his mind was clearer, Noctis could look at him more closely. He was of medium build—probably a head taller than him. He had slicked-back brown hair streaked with grey, no facial hair, and pale skin, a color shared by most citizens. He's wearing a brown suit with fitted pants.
Overall, he had an elegant demeanor.
However, his appearance didn't match the atmosphere he was emitting at the moment, at least.
For some ungraspable reason, Noctis felt extremely intimidated by him; it was as if an unseen pressure fell upon him the moment the eyes of that man landed on him. This was not a feeling that came from being of a lower standing than him or from being younger; it was more like a primal instinctive fear that came from within.Before I could even give a sound, he took out a board and, upon looking at it, spoke in a flat tone.
"Noctes Raveth, age 17?"
"Resident of district three, outer layer inhabitant."
Under the man's stern gaze, my normally courageous and self-confident self evaporated in seconds. Only able to nod submissively, chest tight with anxiety, my helplessness echoed the fear I felt when I met the man in the robes. Embarrassment heats my cheeks, and my breath quickens as shame mingles with dread, making me feel small and exposed before him.
"Are you aware of the situation you're in?"
With my thoughts swirling uneasily and the pressure of his gaze weighing on me, I shook my head and spoke, my voice barely audible.
"No,... not in its entirety."
Shame and fear prick at me as I speak, mirroring how one would feel when caught in a lie by a figure of authority, like a father or boss.
After a few seconds of displeased silence, he asked, "You are aware what a 'Concept Fragment' is?"
Hearing this, instinctively, reassurance graces my inards, knowing my assumption had been correct.As the pressure softens a little, I begin speaking more quickly, eager to answer before he grows impatient again.
"Yes, to a certain extent, at the very least, I know the common knowledge surrounding them."
"Elaborate,"
The man instructed, his tone cold but oddly comforting, pulling out information with well-practiced ease."
Well, as far as I'm aware, when one follows religious doctrines, these fragments are blessings from higher beings. If you come into contact with a fragment, it becomes part of you, and you begin the journey to divinity, tasked with protecting humanity's glory. They can give all sorts of fantastical and scary abilities and so on as well."
With the tension easing just a bit, I ask, my voice small and uncertain, "M-may I know why I'm handcuffed to the bed?"
A desperate hope tinges my words, searching for an ounce of reassurance.
For the first time, he takes his eyes off the document and replies flatly,
"Standard procedure."
Without waiting for my response, he took out a key, unlocked the handcuffs one by one, a blue light briefly emanating from them before disappearing just as fast, and stored them safely inside a briefcase lying by his feet, every movment thery methodical, almost machine like.
Looking me up and down, he elaborated.
"You are partially right. Concept fragments are also called fragments of authority, granting the wielder authority over a part of a specific concept."
Stirring as he watched my face, or to be more precise, my hair intently:
"The silver strain in your hair. Has it always been there?"
Shaking my head quickly in denial, I prompted the man to begin noting down something on his clipboard, which he had been holding like a secretary throughout the entire conversation.
Continuing this question-and-answer game, he asks with a small, somewhat sinister smile.
"And are you aware of the disadvantages of the unity between man and divinity?"
Staying silent and pondering his question for a while, I answered honestly,
"I only know some stories I have read and, of course, that there are higher beings who have transcended the simple realm of mortality, and that one is to immediately go to any and all government facilities the moment they make contact with such a fragment, following paragraph 18 of the city laws.
There are supposedly serious side effects to making contact with a fragment. Some simply die on the spot when trying to absorb them, or they mutate terribly—I have heard."
He looked at me, then at my file, and asked, showing a bit of confusion,
"Wasn't your father a Weilder of such Authorities?"
Quite surprised and feeling a pang of longing that makes my heart ache, I answered honestly once more, this time, however, holding back a few of the subtleties:
"Yes, but he didn't speak much about his work back then; the only thing I remember him saying was that I should never ever become a concept holder. There was a strange sorrow in his eyes when he told me. He didn't explain why; he simply told me that this path is not for man to travel and started veering off the topic."
The memory's weight presses on my chest, a mix of sorrow and confusion lingering with each word.
Nodding, he eased off and said simply,
"Well, you must have guessed it already,—-what did that to your apartment and why we are having this conversation."
Wanting to verify sooner rather than later.
Noctis asked directly.
"Was what destroyed my apartment truly an Authority fragments decent, and if so, what kind?"
Frowning slightly, clearly dismayed by his improper conduct, he answered slowly, "Yes, you will have to figure that out yourself, but before that, first of all, I need to know something. Do you feel a strong, weak, or almost non-existent Call to some other place?"
Quite bewildered, Noctis asked in return simply,
"Call?"
Adding promptly, the man said in a serious tone,
"Do you feel that you are being pulled somewhere, that your very being is being ripped toward some place at all times?"
Pondering for a moment, meditating internally, looking for something out of the ordinary, some pain or feeling that was not usual,
"A bit too the point that I might be imagining it?"
There was something, some feeling that someone or thing was trying to tear him to some far-off place, but it was so pitifully weak, muffled like something was holding it back to the point that it could truly be played off as a delusion and imagination of his own desire not to stand out. Certainly nothing that could ever harm him.
Writing this down and relaxing his expression, the instinctive aversion and suppression that Noctis was feeling disappeared without a trace, in an instant.
Speaking in a now warmer tone, "If that's the case, we can leave ourselves time. I'll first of all explain to you what is going to happen next. Do you understand?"
Dumbstruck by his change in attitudes and the disappearance of the pressure, Noctis couldn't help but ask himself. Did that guy use some kind of ability to pressure me into telling nothing but the truth, or why is he so certain I didn't lie, and why has his attitude changed all of a sudden?
He's almost like a different person!?
Noctis nodded in acknowledgment and gestured for the man to continue speaking, hiding his bewiderment deep within.
Continuing with his completely new attitude, he spoke in a much lighter tone, his deep voice no longer so pronounced:
"As you have said, your Call is very weak, meaning we can take our time. You will now have a few choices to pick from. You are aware what kind of city this is, right?"
Nodding once more, he continued.
"As a producer of "Notium." This City is ruled, first and foremost, by the government and, second, by companies that produce or process this resource.
When an Authority Wielder is born, they have to be supervised and trained to prevent... accidents.
You will have to join a group, which could be one of the companies I mentioned earlier or the government.
The available companies are:
The mercenary producer "Voidmarch",
the arms dealer and producer "Vantor Balistics",
the medical facility "Noxen Pharmaceutical",
and the two Notium procurers, "Prim Notium Industries" and "Abyssal Works."
He continued in a now more enticing tone, the firmness Nocits felt before completely gone.
"I, as a city representative, have the obligation to inform you that working for the government has certain benefits, and as we are always short on staff, we have an extensive guidance program which can not be compared to that of the companies."
Swamped with too much information, Noctis blurted out the last word he heard, in an attempt to win time.
"Guidance program?"
The man nodded and elaborated.
"This is a sort of extra schooling. We have multiple people join us every year, and as the ones who make the first contact with new Authority wielders, we recruit the most. So we have to introduce most of them into this world and see how things go.
Meaning we have a lot of experience in this field."
Still bewildered, a humorous thought bubbled up: this sounds like a sales pitch.
Considering his offer. All of it sounded appealing, but Noctis had enough experience not to take things at face value. Having briefly worked for a big company, he could somewhat see the other side, but he still wanted to hear all the offers and not undersell his worth.
After some thought, Noctis asked.
"If I join you, can I change jobs later?"
He responded in his older, less enthusiastic tone.
"Of course, you have the option to jump ships later; however, as we do invest quite a bit into you, your contract will require 5 years of service.
Of course, before you can join anyone, you need to know the very basics of this world of Authority wielders. That is where I will bring you next. It is a sort of school, during your stay there you will live there and be tightly supervised."
After some more thought, the decision was made to postpone any big decisions, in truth, it seemed he had no true choice from the get-go.
"How long will I be able to stay at that school?"
"About 3 months to a year, its hard to say since this can vary greatly, depending on the Authority you received. Do you have anything of worth that you'd like to get, or can we get going?"
Shaking his head and glancing down at his lap, his voice was quiet and a bit embarrassed.
"I doubt any belongings survived the impact, so..." words trailing off, resignation plain in his posture.
***
Sitting in the backseat, I stare out the window, watching as the buildings grew larger the closer we got to the city center, every building covered by a thick layer of snow, weakly illuminated by artificial lights and a minuscule red glow from above, the red light weakening the closer we got to the center.
Well, Father, I guess I ended up like you after all, even if it was against your wishes.
The view was beautiful, distracting me for a moment from such depressing thoughts, a white mazze spanning into infinity before my eye.
Suddenly, a realization dawned, I forgot to ask the man's name.
Turning in my seat with an awkward laugh, I said.
"This will sound silly, but with all the questions, I forgot to ask your name."
Taking his attention off the road for a moment, the older man answers in his relaxed but stern tone.
"Darron."
Not knowing how to continue the conversation, I felt discomfort creep up the back of my neck. Lampooning my abhorrence of silence and my lack of social skills.
It's NOT MY FAULT.
It's because I never liked conversing with others too much, well, never would be an overexaggeration... Okay, it might be my fault that I have gotten so rusty, but books are at least partially to blame!!
How could it be that someone like me, who loves gambling, has horrendous social skills? Thinking deeper, it might be that gambling is partially to blame, as well, considering that hiding one's emotions during that activity was key.
After a while, Darron spoke in a distant tone that I had yet to hear from him.
"Let me give you a word of advice, from the old to the younger generation: never reveal the origin of your Authority, if you do, your future will be bleak and have little more than hardship and loss."
Surprised by his ominous words, I try to ask,
"What do..."
"Were here"
This guy changes his character like there is no tomorrow!
The car's door opens on its own. Staggering out of the car, the biting cold rushing over my skin, I am stunned by the sight before me. A giant crater, far, far below the floor, nowhere in sight. This was the city center; the entire city was built around this crater. The people of this city collectively nicknamed it the "abyss" because it seemed to have no bottom.
Two gigantic bridges spanned the abyss of that crater, meeting in the middle to form a cross. If I were able to see as far, I would be able to see a small island placed on it, a machine where the bridges meet, a machine that constantly pumps something out of the abyss, where the wealthy and people of high standing live.
Averting my gaze from the abyss, I see a small building, or to be more precise, a building small in comparison to the other buildings surrounding the abyss. It was quite a well-built facility, with four floors, constructed from standard metal and concrete materials.
These were the most commonly used building materials at the time because they were cheap and among the most sturdy for the price. What it lacked in height, it made up for in width, as if it were built with the expectation that one would need lots of space in the near future.
Tilting my head slightly and looking back towards the car, which was just about to drive off.
Was he waiting for me to go in? If I asked him, he would most likely have answered "Regulations" or something of the sort, taking the tone he had at the beginning.
Sighing under my breath, I turn my head back towards the building, which compensated for its lack of height with width, and start walking towards it...