Sakolomé told Ramos how his first day at work had gone. The latter burst out laughing upon hearing the story about Wendy:
Ramos (chuckling):
— Sounds like you ran into a real antagonist!
Sakolomé (sighing):
— Don't even mention it…
No sooner had he finished than someone knocked at the door.
Ramos (intrigued):
— Again? Who could it be now?
The door opened and a familiar figure appeared. Nexura, a mischievous smile on her lips, was holding three well-filled bags.
Nexura:
— Hey guys! I came to check in… How was the first day of our new employee Sakolomé? And above all, what are your impressions? Can I come in?
Ramos (laughing):
— Judging by the amount of food you're bringing, your question's obviously rhetorical!
Nexura entered without waiting and placed the bags on the table. Sakolomé explained his day in detail… well, almost everything. He carefully avoided mentioning Dan and their troubling conversation.
Nexura listened attentively while biting into a burger.
Nexura:
— Honestly, given your age and the context, you should have expected it…
Sakolomé (calm but firm):
— I suspected as much, yes. And to be honest, that kind of harassment… let's say I grew up with it. So it's not much of a shock for me.
Nexura lowered her eyes slightly, genuinely touched.
Nexura:
— I'm sorry for what you've been through… but what worries me most is what you said about Raymond. We thought about security against Mutants, but not against… these kinds of human behaviors.
Ramos nodded, his tone becoming more serious.
Ramos:
— So, what do you plan to do?
Nexura let out a slight sigh and put down her burger.
Nexura:
— Honestly? I don't know yet. Maybe integrate a function in the system to prevent any attacks against humans… or set up an alarm connected directly to the police in case of danger.
Nexura (fixing her gaze on Sakolomé):
— By the way, the police should also receive rigorous training via the system. They must be able to easily neutralize criminals… and even Mutants.
Sakolomé raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed.
Sakolomé:
— I hope you're not imagining I'm going to take care of that? I already have a whole class to manage, and believe me, that's more than enough.
Nexura shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips before taking a bite of her burger.
Nexura:
— Maybe… And besides, you shouldn't overwork yourself, you're only twenty-five after all.
Sakolomé fixed her for a moment, sensing the slight jab behind that sentence. His gaze grew a little colder, but he let it slide and answered calmly.
Sakolomé (sighing):
— Whatever. I might know someone who could fill that role for the police.
Nexura's eyes lit up immediately, intrigued.
Nexura:
— Really?
Sakolomé (nodding):
— Yes. He's very strict… that's what makes him ideal for it.
Sakolomé raised his glass to his lips and took a long sip before gently resting it down.
Ramos:
— And… is he reliable? As trustworthy as you?
Nexura (jumping in):
— Good question. Sakolomé, I remind you we want to build a country capable of defending itself, with powerful and loyal people.
Sakolomé swallowed his last sip and let out a slight satisfied sigh, as if to temper the atmosphere. Then he locked his gaze with Nexura's.
Sakolomé:
— Why do you talk as if I only hang out with thugs? My life has been a series of mockery and humiliation, that's true. But the few people I grew attached to… I swear they're worth trusting.
A heavy but sincere silence followed his words. Ramos simply nodded, while Nexura held Sakolomé's gaze before turning away.
After that evening, the next day marked Sakolomé's return to the training room.
He taught in an almost religious silence. The students took notes diligently… well, almost all. Wendy, however, was slumped in her chair, eyes closed, breathing softly as if lying in her bed.
Sakolomé cast a brief glance in her direction but said nothing. No need to waste his breath for now.
Days passed, then weeks… a month went by like this. During all that time, Sakolomé focused his efforts on those who truly wanted to improve. Dan, notably, trained relentlessly. His eyes showed a cold, almost desperate determination. He never gave up. He was still waiting for Sakolomé to keep his promise… the one about death.
Wendy, for her part, remained true to herself: solitary, haughty, stubbornly refusing to reveal her skills in front of him. Sakolomé never insisted. She would reveal herself in her own time.
One morning, finally, he broke the routine.
Sakolomé:
— Good. You've all been training for several weeks. Today… we're going to see what you're really worth.
At these words, Wendy jumped to her feet and punched the palm of her hand.
Wendy (smirking):
— Finally something interesting in your crappy training!
Sakolomé looked at her without flinching, then raised his hand. A colossal dome materialized, enclosing the whole area in an oppressive aura.
Sakolomé:
— I trust what I've taught you. Now, you're going to face… real Mutants.
The fight started immediately. The youngsters battled with varying degrees of skill. Wendy literally toyed with her opponents: Mutants reduced to ashes before even understanding what was happening. Dan, silent and focused, pulverized them with surgical precision.
When the last creature fell, Wendy exited the dome, looking bored.
Wendy:
— That was too easy… Didn't you have anything more entertaining? Seriously.
Sakolomé smirked.
Sakolomé:
— Save your energy for the day after tomorrow. That's when you'll finally get the chance to prove what you're really worth.
Wendy averted her eyes, a smirk on her lips, before leaving the area without a word.
Sakolomé turned to the rest of the group.
Sakolomé:
— Tomorrow, no class. Prepare yourselves. The day after tomorrow, it'll be a team challenge… and I suggest you be ready.
He paused, then added firmly:
— But before leaving, we're going to form groups.
His eyes landed on Dan and Wendy.
Sakolomé:
— I think we all agree that Dan and Wendy are the strongest. They'll be squad leaders. Two teams, two leaders. I'll let you organize yourselves and hand me the list before leaving.
The atmosphere in the room immediately charged with electric tension: everyone knew the coming days would be decisive.
"Understood," the students answered in unison.
After some quick exchanges among themselves, they drew up the teams list, submitted it to Sakolomé, then took leave to go home.
On his way back, Sakolomé walked slowly, hands in pockets, mind elsewhere. After a month of teaching, he had had time to observe, analyze… and one thing kept intriguing him: Dan.
This boy was no longer a mere mortal. He had crossed a threshold. He had transcended the state of the body, reaching a level beyond human norm. Yet despite this transformation, the Nemesis system had not faltered.
No… it had adapted. Perfectly.
This meant one thing: the system was not limited to the physical plane. It could go much further… perhaps even into spiritual layers.
Sakolomé frowned, pondering this possibility. How far could this system extend? Dan seemed to have reached a high enough level to brush against the first Meracloxe. He had learned to contain his own power to exist in a reality that normally would have disintegrated under his sole presence.
A rare feat.
A potential danger as well.
The young instructor made himself a promise: he must deepen his research on the Nemesis system. Explore its true limits. Because until now, he had always believed this program acted only on the physical, like a sophisticated machine, a simple bodily optimization mechanism. But now… he glimpsed something much vaster, far more unsettling.
Maybe… a structure touching even causality itself.
An hypothesis imposed itself: transcendence via the system probably remained trapped within a structuring causality. But what would happen if a being managed to tear himself away from this network? Would Nemesis still hold?
Sakolomé finally arrived in front of his bedroom door. He opened it, entered, then closed it behind him. After changing into more comfortable clothes, he sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed into the void.
Who designed Nemesis?
Such an architecture… was not the work of a mere genius. No. Whoever created it must be a super-mortal. Or something even greater.
But with what had they built this system? With magic? Pure mana? And above all… with what energy did they keep it functioning? Such a structure must consume astronomical amounts of mana, especially to adapt to transcendants.
Sakolomé took a deep breath.
If he was right, then the designer of Nemesis must be a being of terrifying level, capable of manipulating intentional causality itself. For a being from that plane, the notion of mana reserve would be almost infinite for those who remain trapped in structuring causality.
Or else…
He closed his eyes.
Maybe behind this system, there was not a man. Maybe… an entity.
As his thoughts tangled in a maelstrom of unanswered questions, a vibration broke the silence of the room.
Sakolomé jumped slightly, pulled his phone from his pocket, and glanced at the screen.
His eyes immediately widened.
A new message had appeared. No name, no number… just "Anonymous."
He opened the message, and his lips tightened.
"If you want to know who I am, come to downtown tomorrow and stop by the cybercafé."
A subtle shiver ran down his neck.
He furrowed his brows, reread the text a second time… then a third, as if that could give it additional meaning.
The guy who wrote to me last time…
Why now?
Sakolomé remained silent for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the illuminated screen. Then he put his phone back in his pocket, determination etched on his face.
— Tomorrow… at the cybercafé, huh? he murmured.
He smirked ironically.
— Doesn't matter. I've got nothing planned anyway. We'll see.
He lay down on the bed, but his thoughts kept swirling, sharper than ever.
Who is hiding behind this message?