Monday morning was a testy morning for Melmarc. Tired and not really wanting to, he slipped on a jacket after his shower. He'd been waiting for Monday morning since getting his probational admission on Friday. Why? Because while he could make a phone call and find out what exactly the probational requirements of his admission were, he was more interested in going into the student affairs office for a face to face conversation.

Then on Saturday morning he'd gotten another email informing him to actually come into the student affairs office for that exact conversation.

Jacket worn, he sucked in a deep breath and let it out.

Ark snorted. "You do not look like a kid who survived a portal and jumped off a plane."

"Go to your room, Ark," Melmarc muttered under his breath.

"So, still think we shouldn't tell mom that we called dad and he picked?"

Melmarc reached into his cupboard and pulled out a wristwatch. It was a simple stainless steel watch. He wore it absently, locking it into place. Noticing something interesting, he reached into his wardrobe and pulled it out.

"Dunno. Nin, said to leave it for now." He held up a silver bracelet for Ark to see. "What's this?"

"Chioma," Ark muttered.

Melmarc assumed it was a gift from Chioma, Ark's ex-girlfriend. A gift to Ark. That begged the question of why it was in his wardrobe.

He held it a little higher. "Is there a reason it's in my wardrobe and not yours?"

"I figured I'd just let you have it," Ark said with a shrug. "It's pure silver so I didn't want to throw it away."

Dissonant.

Melmarc paused, shocked. Ark was always so careful with his lies to the point that Melmarc doubted he had sensed dissonance from Ark more than a handful of times.

"Ark," he said slowly.

Ark sighed. "I bet you heard the dissonance."

Melmarc nodded. Lowering the bracelet to the table, he walked over to the side of the bed and looked down at his brother. Ark didn't meet his gaze.

"Wanna talk about the truth?" Melmarc asked.

"Not really," Ark answered.

"Why?"

"Because it's still kind of difficult thinking about her. I left the bracelet in your wardrobe because it's the only gift she gave me that's really expensive and the only one that really matters." He took in a deep breath and let it out. "I saw it when I was unpacking some stuff yesterday and couldn't bring myself to throw it out."

He still misses her, Melmarc thought.

"That's tough, man," he muttered. Then he walked over to the table and picked the bracelet up. As he put it on, he asked. "And how would you feel if I accidentally misplaced it."

Ark stiffened a little. "I think it will hurt a lot, but it might be in my best interest."

"I see." Melmarc nodded in understanding.

He knew that he couldn't keep on wearing it because that meant that Ark would see it on his wrist everyday and it would still bother him in some way. So, he was going to wear it for a while, then it may or may not go missing. He wasn't sure yet.

You could always just hide it.

"Alright," he announced, fully dressed. "Time to head out."

Melmarc walked through the room, very conscious of the bracelet on his wrist. He wondered how long he would wear it for before he stopped and Ark wouldn't notice its absence. He pulled out his phone as he walked up to the door and sent a quick text to Pelumi.

"Did you ever reach Patience?" Ark asked when Melmarc's hand was on the door handle.

Melmarc paused to look back at him and shook his head. "She blocked me on chat and call. I tried reaching her but it didn't ring. Four times."

Ark let out a low whistle. "Can't say I blame her."

"Me too." Melmarc opened the door.

"Get me a plate of chicken salad on your way back," Ark requested. "The one from that bus we saw yesterday. Theirs is better than the one I get when we order."

It was something Melmarc had noticed. The food they ordered was nice enough, definitely tasty, but the independent food stalls around campus that they had seen were better. But unlike school food, the stalls were at least fifty percent more expensive.

He wondered if that happened on its own organically or if it was all planned.

Melmarc gave his brother a flat look. "With whose card?"

"Yours?" Ark answered.

"Send the money to my account."

"Dude," Ark groaned. "You have money."

"Your allowance is more than mine," Melmarc shot back, realizing that he was arguing with the door open.

"By like thirty bucks," Ark returned.

Dissonant.

"Mom gave you like fifty bucks more," Melmarc pointed out, letting him know that he knew exactly how much more money Ark had for his allowance than him.

Ark snorted, then grinned. "Actually seventy-five," he chuckled. "Perks of being older."

Melmarc rolled his eyes and walked out the door.

"Send the money to my account."

With that, he closed the door behind him.

…

"So, are you going to buy it?" Pelumi asked.

Melmarc sighed in defeat. "Yes."

That got a chuckle out of her. It was a light sound, a soft sound. It was easy to believe that she sang more often than most people.

"And did he send the money?" she asked.

"No." Melmarc shook his head.

Again, Pelumi laughed.

They were walking down the school path. The time was well past eight o'clock in the morning and this side of the school grounds was relatively empty. The ground was made of interlocking concrete blocks, at least the one on the path they were walking on. There were other parts that were either tarred, those let you know that they were for cars, or were just nothing but sand and grass.

While chatting with Pelumi yesterday, she'd told him that she had business at one of the administrative buildings. Learning that he had business there, too, she'd suggested that they go together. According to her, there was no reason they couldn't go together.

Melmarc hadn't minded. For him, he saw it as a possible opportunity to try and understand the pull he felt towards her. He hoped that enough time with her would help him understand what he felt as if he was waiting for her to request.

"That's it over there, though," Pelumi said suddenly, pointing off into the distance.

There stood a green stall, a kiosk really, with a girl that could've easily been their fellow student attending to a few people. She already had something of a small crowd in front of her—around ten people.

"Apparently she's very popular," Pelumi said.

"Her food's that good?" Melmarc asked, even though he knew how good her chicken salad was.

Pelumi nodded, steps slowing as they were beginning to walk past the stall. "Best shawarma on campus," she said. "Should we get it now?"

"Nah." Melmarc shook his head. "Maybe on our way…"

His brows furrowed. His eyes squinted. He peered into the crowd picking out the reason for his sudden silence.

Pelumi gave him a strange and slightly worried look. "Are you okay?"

"Uhmm… yeah? I think." Melmarc stared at the boy in the group as he paid for his food and walked away with the pack.

"Someone you know?" Pelumi asked.

Melmarc shook his head. "Do you know him?"

"Arthur?" she asked. "Yeah. We're in the same group chat. He's from New York. Didn't care very much for being Gifted until he got his class. Apparently, Fallen High wasn't his first choice."

Melmarc was aware of the intakes group chat. He was a member and kept himself updated on their chats even though he never said anything on the group. He did not remember any of this.

"How do you know that?" he asked, picking up the pace as they finally walked past the stall. "I don't think he said anything about that in the group."

"I take it you're not buying Ark his chicken salad."

"On our way back. Buying it now will just be extra load to carry." Melmarc had a frown on his face. Even without looking, he could tell exactly where Arthur was in this moment, how many steps away from each other they were.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

It was like when he had gone to the precinct with his mother to pick Naymond up. When he had gotten within a certain distance of the [Sage] he had just known where the man was, like knowing where you left your phone in your house.

Arthur was the phone and this side of the school grounds was his house.

"About Arthur," he began, trying not to press the issue.

"Oh, we have a separate group chat," Pelumi explained.

"A separate group chat?"

"Uhuh," Pelumi nodded as they continued walking. "Just for those with the [Invoker] class."

"He's an [Invoker]," Melmarc mused.

"A-rank," Pelumi clarified. "He says he can invoke electrical assistance."

Melmarc gave her a confused look. "Electrical assistance?"

"An electric car. A taser." She shrugged. "Live wires. If its core existence is electrical, he can invoke it."

That sounded interesting. Melmarc could just imagine the boy summoning an electric car to drive around.

"Has anyone seen him use the ability?"

"Yeah," she answered. "But as cool as it sounds, it doesn't look very cool. There's a video in the group chat of him summoning a stun gun. It blasts electric bolts. It looks a lot like my summoned familiars, very blue and pale. But very useful."

They walked together in silence for a while before Pelumi broke it with another question.

"Why do you ask?"

Melmarc just gave a noncommittal shrug. But he knew why he'd asked. He'd gotten the same feeling he was getting from Pelumi from the boy. But there was a slight difference. Arthur's pull wasn't as strong as Pelumi's. Arthur felt like the less favored child. Pelumi would get what she wants but he'd have to think about Arthur's request before deciding on whether he was going to grant it or not.

"What about your own group?" Pelumi asked. "I take it you have a group for [Faker]s."

There was, in fact, a group for those with the [Faker] class. It was a very quiet group. There had been a brief introductory session in the beginning where people hadn't really introduced themselves.

"We have one," Melmarc answered. "It's not very lively, though."

If he wasn't mistaken, there were only seven people in the group. But as sad as that was, Ark had it the toughest. After all, there was no [Demon King] group. Obviously.

But Melmarc couldn't really feel sad for his brother because such things had never stopped Ark and his brand of mischief. Ark was currently a very active participant of the [Weaver] group and the [Basher] group.

Mischief, he thought, thine name art Tar'arkna.

It wasn't long before they reached the administrative building. Like most of the large buildings on this side of the school grounds, it had high rising stairs that needed to be climbed before getting to the front door.

"Oh, do you know that the school actually has a program specific for those with the [Invoker] class?" Pelumi said as they climbed up the stairs.

"The Promise?" Melmarc asked, remembering that it was the name of the program that Ark got a scholarship for.

Pelumi blinked. "Never heard of that. Mine is called 'Invocation 3.' Apparently, every [Invoker] in my group got an invitation to the school. Only a few of us got a scholarship, though, I and two other guys."

"Did Arthur get a scholarship?" Melmarc asked.

Pelumi shook her head. "No, but he got an invitation to study. We're all eligible for the program and are strongly advised to join 'as it could prove beneficial to our future as Gifted.'" The last part she added with actual air quotes.

"Any idea why?"

They were at the top of the stairs now, strolling into the building.

"Well," she answered, dragging out the words with slowly growing excited uncertainty. "We do have a theory in mind."

Melmarc gave her a look. He could see that she was trying to not look too excited about the theory that she wanted to share. He felt fear from her, but it was nothing too serious. It felt more like uncertainty than fear. A fear that he would not find whatever she had to offer as exciting as she found it.

"I'm listening," he said, urging her on.

"Okay," she said, perking up. Then her excitement washed over her. It was on her face, in her voice. "So, you know how there hasn't been a portal around for a while for some reason."

"I do."

I'm the reason, after all.

"So," Pelumi continued, her voice lowering as Melmarc held open the door to the building for her. "Apparently, it turns out that all the [Invoker]s in the group chat had their faith stat points increase by some amount around that time."

Is that what's happening? Melmarc wondered. Was the increase somehow related to him.

"We think the school knows something about why that happened and wants to look into it with this invocation 3 program," Pelumi finished.

Melmarc nodded, thinking about it. He wondered if there was an Oath that had the [Invoker] class. If yes, then how would he feel around that specific Oath.

"Did everyone have the same increment?" he asked.

She nodded, the action odd. "Uhuh."

Dissonant.

Melmarc hadn't needed the dissonance to know that she was hiding something.

"All the members of the group had the same growth," she said, voice still low. "But stat increase without mastery increase at every ten percent is quite literally unheard of."

Same thing for an [August Intruder].

"I guess that's a good thing?" he asked.

Pelumi nodded. "Oh, yes, definitely. Even for something as unknown as the faith points. I haven't met a [Priest] or [Invoker] that knows what exactly it does, but we know it does something. We can feel it. We just don't know what it is."

Melmarc was beginning to have a feeling that the faith points might have something to do with him. He would've liked to call it arrogance, but he couldn't say that it was. All the evidence were in support of him.

"Anyway," Pelumi continued. "That's why we… Marc?"

Melmarc stood rooted in place, barely eight feet away from the entrance. He stood there, eyes fixed on someone else in the room.

Patience stared at him.

"Hello, Marc."

…

Naymond took his hat off and placed it on the metal table that was right next to him. Thinking better about the decision, he picked it back up and wore it. He frowned after a moment and put it back down.

"The little things are always the hardest decision," he muttered under his breath.

In the end, he left the hat on the table and walked up to the closed double doors. It was one of those doors with a circular plane glass at eye level so that you could look inside and see what was happening. But Naymond didn't look inside, in fact, he avoided the circles.

Alright, then, he thought. There's forty of them. Forty is a large number.

He sucked in a preparatory breath and let it out.

I wonder if Melmarc will be in support.

He was sure the boy had already started school. He'd also seen the airplane video. The boy was as determined as his older brother.

The Lockwoods, he thought to himself. An insane bunch.

With that, Naymond barged through the door and into the room. When he was inside, he dropped into a roll.

"INTRUDER!" someone bellowed from one end of the room in Romanian.

Naymond didn't look in his direction as he raised the gun in his, supported it with his other hand, and squeezed the trigger. Three explosive bursts within the space of a second and the man's head was a bloody mess.

The room was large, reminiscent of a highschool chemistry lab. However, instead of just chemicals and test tubes. There were chemistry equipment and a lot of human organ parts. Brains. Livers. Kidneys. Spleens.

Turning without hesitation, Naymond didn't even bother aiming down the sight of his assault rifle to choose his next target. [World of Insight] told him where everyone was and what they were doing. He knew those who had guns and those who couldn't fight to save their lives.

When he found the man, he turned and aimed down the sight this time. His target reached for their holster, realized he wasn't going to make it, then dived out of the way. Naymond shifted his aim before the man moved and squeezed the trigger.

Three shots were made just as the man dived. The fool dived right into the bullets.

One man, daring as the Gifted often were, rushed him from what was supposed to be Naymond's blind spot.

Naymond felt the man's skill before it activated. Every Gifted had a delay before the activation of active skills. Most people weren't very aware of that delay, even more did not understand why the delay existed. Those with the [Sage] class were different.

The delay was the time it took for the skill to take proper form. Naymond watched the form of the man's skill, an ability unique to the [Sage] class, and raised a hand to him.

The man's form was like a worm trying to lash out.

[You have used skill That isn't Fair]

[That isn't Fair (Mastery 31.93%)]

The Gifted reaches forth and interrupts the formation of an active skill.

In Naymond's senses, it was like pouring salt on a wounded worm. He felt the form of the skill turn in on itself, twist and twitch.

The man lost his footing as he stiffened suddenly and just fell forward like a felled tree. He hit the ground in a thud as chaos erupted in the room. Naymond put a bullet in his head as he passed him.

Three men ran out the doors. Naymond let them. When a fourth began fleeing, Naymond put a bullet in his head, then ducked and rolled. The explosion of a gunshot filled the air. He sensed the bullet go through where his torso would've been if he hadn't moved, then frowned as he felt blood from a dropped liver stain his coat.

At the end of his roll, Naymond did not stand up, instead, he turned to the said, remaining on his knee, and placed his gun there. Someone knocked into him and was sent tumbling over him. The man hit the ground and Naymond delivered a swift blow to his jaw, knocking him out.

More gunshots erupted as people started calling out commands. Someone was supposed to be flanking him. Naymond shook his head as he reached into his coat.

He pulled out a grenade.

Drawing the pin, he threw it high in a random direction.

"Grenadă!" a woman barked.

Naymond rose to his feet and put a bullet in her chest for her worries. Someone leveled a gun at him. The grenade exploded before he could fire, throwing him off balance. More people fought to leave the room.

The table beside Naymond was high and he scaled it. He came down on the otherside with a knee that he shoved into the man that had aimed the gun at him. The man was sent staggering back from the impact. His back slammed into the edge of another table and he folded in pain.

Naymond put a bullet in his neck and darted to the side just in time. He ran, moving quickly, as the spray of bullets that had been for him, ruined the torso of the man he had shot in the neck.

More bullets followed after him as he ran, then he ducked once more, rolled along the ground and came out somewhere else. He tripped someone in his roll but couldn't be bothered. When he came up, it was behind someone. The woman wore a long white labcoat and served as an unwilling human shield, standing between him and another bullet.

[World of Insight] flared, Naymond turned his head and saw a skill form just at the end. It felt hot and bright. It was too late to do anything about it so he dived just before a man manifested a wave of fire from thin air.

Naymond hit the ground. He frowned down at his weapon.

"Fucking black market guns," he cursed under his breath as the sound of blazing flames and gun fire filled the air as collateral damages dropped dead in their escape.

He'd hit the ground and the automatic rifle had jammed in a way that he could not unjam quickly.

Abandoning the weapon, he dragged himself along the ground until he was free enough to pop back up. When he popped back up, he threw himself straight into a man with a shotgun. It was the stupidest thing to use a shotgun as a protective weapon.

The man raised the gun but Naymond was faster, he slapped the gun to the side. It did not disarm the man, but it sent the aim askew just as the man pulled the trigger. The kickback didn't even make the man budge. Considering his size, Naymond concluded that the man was definitely a Gifted.

The two of them went into a tussle. The man kept trying to fire on Naymond while Naymond peppered him with slaps and punches while also keeping the gun's aim away from him.

There was a moment of quick hand movements that ended with a confused look on the man's face that slowly slipped into dread and the barrel against his stomach.

"I have a—"

Naymond pulled the trigger and blew a hole in the man's stomach. Then he was gone, shotgun cocking and firing as he traversed the entire room, spilling blood all over the place.

It wasn't long before the room was nothing but death and blood.

Naymond stood over his last victim, doing his best to control his breathing. The entire ordeal had taken a lot out of him.

He looked down at the woman who was seating on the ground, bleeding out from a bullet to her side. Naymond was armed with boring pistol now.

She looked up at him, green eyes defiant. "You won't make it out of here alive."

"I don't have a scratch on me, though," he said with a jovial smile. "So why won't I?"

"Because we have a [Dreadnaught]." She grinned something evil. "S-rank."

Naymond knew about the [Dreadnaught]. He had a few plans for dealing with the man. Personally, he was surprised that the [Dreadnaught] and his own protective detail had not burst in on the fight. He'd had a plan set up for that exact situation.

"I'm sure I'll do alright," he said with a shrug. "Won't be my first [Dreadnaught]."

The woman coughed up blood. "You have no idea what you've done."

Naymond sighed. He was not in the habit of allowing the bad guys a conversation. He preferred to monologue them into boredom. So, he pulled the trigger.

The gunshot was loud. Her death was quiet.

Naymond looked around now that he was the only living thing in the room and sighed.

Melmarc will definitely not approve.

He shrugged.

And that's why he doesn't need to know the details.

"Now," he muttered, walking up to the only other door in the building. "About that [Dreadnaught]."

He paused when he got to the door. [World of Insight] wasn't working properly. It was sensing things beyond the door but wasn't seeing them.

Frowning, he placed a careful hand on the door and pushed it. To his surprise, everything finally came alive. He saw it all.

Naymond moved back very slowly, fear crawling up his spine.

In his senses, someone had the [Dreadnaught] up by neck so that the man, who was at least six feet five and built like a tank, had his legs dangling in the air.

Naymond swallowed as he slowly moved away. He turned around and…

"[Sage]."

The voice was deep and precise.

Naymond froze, only one thought in mind.

How is Madness in Romania?

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