In the assembly hall, every student and professor of Universalis stood together, their eyes fixed on the radio mounted over the entrance gate. Some had taken chairs from nearby rooms, but the Major stood on his feet. More than a head taller than the tallest person in the hall, the massive frame waited as well. At her recommendation, the Major had made an effort to blend in better.
His solid tricolor frame had nothing to be modest about but he wore common clothes nonetheless. It had been a challenge to find clothes that would fit his unusual size, she had needed to place a special request to the Scavengers. The Major didn’t stake much on their success, he knew clothes were antithesis to his design, but to his surprise and the smug satisfaction of his partner, they had brought back a complete albeit dusty suit of black and white. She had said it complemented his colors. The Major didn’t rebute the comment at the time, fixated on the clothes in his hands, even if she wasn’t capable of color theory. The contact of cloth against his solid frame had taken some time to get used to, the air flowing in his joints and throughout his body was stifled but he’d gotten used to it. If anything, it made his movements look less inhuman.
The Major was looking outside. The night was still strong, the darkness in the empty garden smothering the sparse lamps strewn along the main path. The Torrents had abated hours prior but most of the assembly were still humid, the Major was still hearing complaints about the smell of wet people all gathered in the same place but it didn’t matter to him. What was he searching for in the dark? Maybe he’d wanted to be the one to not look expectantly at the radio.
Actualization. Introspection.
The Major ended up looking at the radio again, it should be any minute now but his body wasn’t built with an internal clock. The radio had been turned on in advance, a keen ear could discern a faint buzzing from the open frequency.
“Once again, the Sun rises.”
The sentence lifted the air of expectancy, shoulders relaxed and some exhaled like they’d been holding their breaths. One human looked out the window as if the west edge of the Minnow Gardens would get a single ray of light during the first minute of the Knightcall. The human quickly realized the futility of his action and looked around to check if anyone saw him. The Major did, but the human would have a hard time knowing he’d been looking. His entire face was covered by an opaque white visor, leaving only a faint image of the orange vertical slits that served as his eyes.
“Are you all still here? I got the sense that yesterday wasn’t the resounding success that I thought it’d be. Look at me, taking the spotlight from the Sun to rant. Well that’s my call I get to do what I want. I truly didn’t want to lead anyone on. I learned he wouldn’t say a peep only minutes before you all, swear on my helmet.”
The assembly had mostly stopped listening. Once the first line had been uttered, chairs were taken back to their original spots and people huddled around the schedule board, talking amongst themselves.
“Nothing much planned for today really… Thinking about it, maybe I’m lucky that Doctor kept this card to himself, I’d likely be out of a job if he had anything to say about the Sun! He mentioned he was 72 years old yesterday, hm? I’ll let you all in on a piece of insider information to make up for the loss, I myself am 27!”
“Who cares?” said one of the attendees, to the chuckles of anyone in ear-shot.
The Major didn’t laugh. The radio’s volume lowered itself and a sharply dressed myrrh in deep blue made an announcement from the top of the stairs.
“Now that we’re good for the day, the schedules are in effect, go check the board but remember that they can change in the next few hours! If we see a single chair left in the hall we’re taking them out of all the classrooms, have a good day.”
He elongated the last syllabus for a few seconds as he headed up the stairs. The call was barely intelligible now, attendees scattered, cluttering stairs and hallways with chatter. There were more than yesterday, probably less than tomorrow, but anything could change. The Major followed the flow of bodies headed towards the stairs, not checking the schedule.
Even after a few years diligently present at Universalis, the Major had never sat next to another student. He could guess why, however it had never become a topic of discussion. Noone had put into question his reasons for attending classes and noone was willing to ask him about it. It was fine like this. He couldn’t help but pay attention to the slow process of the Sun bleaching the interior of the classroom as the day went on, feeling particularly distracted.
Even if the topics at hand were of interest to him, he already knew everything that was currently being covered. A ‘History of the rehabilitation of Last Kunlun’. The class had been aimed at helping new students catch up to basic history of the last century, as there had been an influx of applications for classes these past months. He’d seen it happen from time to time, people would come and go, the reformed scholarly institution was noncommittal to a fault, leading to few consistent classes and unpredictable schedules.
The Major could’ve chosen another class but he found himself uninterested in fashion, foodwork or handiwork, though his professor had expressed he would be more suited for the latter. He hadn’t needed to feign interest, history was interesting, its sole professor was passionate and he found it easy to immerse his mind into the dates and stories. Even if the Major was here at her recommendation, he ended up relieved that he comfortably found his place without having to force himself. At zenith, the classes would shift and he’d hoped the topic would as well. He hadn’t checked the board, knowing where the classroom was, but now he found the lack of foresight displeasing.
Actualization. Introspection.
As he was ruminating, the doors to the amphitheater opened, catching the attention of every student present, including the teacher.
“Apologies, professor, I’m afraid I must dispense you of one of your students today!”
Her cane echoed through the room as the interloper descended the steps of the amphitheater. She stood confidently amidst the piercing looks, her open coat bleached by the Sun flowed behind her, accompanying her advance.
“You’d steal one of my best in the middle of class? A matter of utmost importance I assume?” The professor joked, melting away the silence that had frozen his class.
“I would never have dared otherwise,” the Capitán bowed slightly, a warm smile on her face, reciprocating the attempt at levity.
The Major hadn’t moved, waiting for her to be at his level. He caught her gaze, her pale eyes hidden behind black shaded glasses revealed a slight annoyance. The interpretation was a guess but he rose nonetheless, offering a curt apology to the professor.
“Don’t mind it, we have more that you already know in the evening. I hope to see you next time!”
The Major nodded and they both headed out, side to side, all eyes still following them.
“One of his best, eh?” the Capitán snickered as the doors closed behind them.
“I’m punctual.”
“Wasn’t that the son of the Old Man?”
“Professor Sihvan.”
“Younger than I expected.”
“The title ages him, he’s only 49 years old.”
She nodded comprehensively. The Major had only vaguely mentioned his professor to her but she must’ve done some research on her own. This kind of foresight shouldn’t have been unexpected from her, he knew she wasn’t fond of the Old Man but a part of him hoped she could show some grace towards his son. As they approached the main stairs, the Major offered his arm to the Capitán who took it without asking. She wasn’t small but he still had to lean to be on her level.
“I didn’t come here for fun, the Gardens are a bitch to traverse.”
“I know.”
“Dove is AWOL.”
The Major looked at her, they had made their way down the stairs and unlocked arms. He had only met the human a few times and never held any long conversations, much to the expressive relief of Dove, as expressive as a fully costumed vigilante could be. The Major and the Capitán had caught Dove by the nape as he was trying to trap people he personally deemed “dangerous”. He would lure them with various far fetched methods into abandoned shafts in the Caldera with the intent to push them in and impale them or, failing that, letting them starve. He had succeeded at least twice, his victims being known violent actors and part of breaker groups.
The Capitán originally left him to his business, claiming they would act only if he started catching innocent bystanders, but Dove’s surprising capacity for subtlety and discretion considering his brutish methods changed her mind about leaving him unsupervised. The Capitán had a use for him, and she recruited him under the Cors so that he would answer only to her. The Major figured she had found some leverage to get him to agree but didn’t care to find out what.
“He was supposed to meet me earlier, I still have him tailing that whatever’s group who’s been digging in the Caldera.”
“Last time you told me about this, Dove had appointed someone to infiltrate their ranks.”
“I left him to handle that, see how he manages others without putting holes in them. I’ve never met the informant and it was barely my concern, but he’s supposed to give me an account on whatever they do on the outside. He made me wait for nothing and here I am.”
They were now out of Universalis, its garden now devoid of color sapped any charm the campus could’ve had. His own form had turned monochromatic, blending with his suit. The flowerless fields of grass were still fresh and flattened from the recent torrent. Some students and teachers tended to the rows of trees along the main path, their efforts being the only rampart keeping the garden from looking unkempt. Their gazes would follow their departure but neither he nor the Capitán needed to pay it any mind.
The building itself, now behind them, still stood imposing. A beautiful relic of bright bricks and wide windows, even bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. Only the main wing of the three that originally formed the whole of Universalis had remained active. Even at the end of days, the pursuit and sharing of knowledge still attracted many but the population had dwarfed enough for the silence between halls and classrooms to feel oppressive. The Major had learned the west wing had once housed the Doctors, before the Exodus. The few experienced scholars left in the city didn’t find much use in this amount of empty space and relinquished it. For more than a decade now, there were no more children running and shouting in the east wing, leaving the building draped in silence. The staff who remained around Universalis did their best to not let the last wing fall to the eerie atmosphere.
“So we’re going in,” the Major asked rhetorically.
“We are. I can be patient but I don’t want to let him think he can dick me around. We’ll take the green line, tired of gravel already.”
The Major didn’t nod, he never felt the need to express his approval when it came to her decisions.
He found himself taking the bus more often these days, becoming accustomed to bowing his stance to not graze the ceiling of the vehicle. The green aerobus line went from the top end of the Minnow Gardens and headed sud, through most of Byzance, crossing the Plaza in front of City Hall and through Versal to end up at the Grande Gate of the Hull. They rode in silence, the few other passengers shot them sly looks as if he wouldn’t see them all. He focused his attention outside.
Last Kunlun was divided in districts varying wildly in architecture. The Major learned in class that this archaic urban planning had been inspired by another city, far to the west, but progress on the lesson had stalled and he didn’t get to hear its name. He was familiar with most of the city by now, not favoring any sight more than the other. The Major focused more on the kind of people each part of the city attracted. Outside of the window, it was not as crowded as it could get, the difference of numbers in the streets between the middle of the night and zenith was evident. Even if Volantis shielded the city from the relentless cold, the pressure of a dying star looming overhead was impossible to ignore, rendering everything under its light into a bleak and dreary scenery. Even the most delusional preferred to keep their busiest moments for when the Sun had already set and the spectrum of light regained its vigor. In spite of that, Byzance and Versal were still bustling with activity.
Whatever the average citizen felt like doing with their time eluded the Major, these past few years he found himself wondering if he wanted to seek out answers. The only company he was used to interacting with were the Capitán and her two protegees who rarely partook in any activity outside of the Cors quarters. The Major doubted anyone would actually refuse to answer any of his questions, were he to ask. Was it simple curiosity or academic pursuit that guided this thought?
Introspection. Actualization.
The Major was naturally expert at remembering faces or masks he’d seen once before and he felt something akin to relief everytime he spotted a new one in the streets, even if all he saw looking back at him was fear. The green line diligently avoided entering the Caldera while navigating through the sud side of Versal, they got off at the closest stop where the two districts merged and shortly found themselves at a massive depot who had seen better days.
“You can see the crater well from here,” the Major commented from his height.
“All of this would’ve wrapped up sooner if they just wanted to make another one,” the Capitán replied between her teeth.
They headed inside, the floor was still covered by a small layer of water. Their steps rippled in the current, headed towards whatever drains would welcome it.
“How bad is it?” The Capitán asked, feeling the depth of the water with her cane step by step.
“Hollow roof, no apparent damages, the main hall is completely empty.”
“Must’ve set shop down under, clever lads.”
The Major took a moment to witness the colorless murals painting the entire depot. He didn’t bother describing them to her. She had told him long ago that even if it meant nothing to her, he should still pay attention. The clash between the ages, layers painted over and over, the shapes and the abstract. He couldn’t identify patterns in arts, he could barely interpret their meaning, relying only on what he’d learn in class. He kept looking nonetheless. “See what I can’t.” What held his attention the most in the busy decor was a detailed painting of a bird flying towards a star, drawn against the wall facing the entrance. He’d never delved into paleontology but he recalled the animal as the main piece of the flag of Last Kunlun. The symbolism would be evident enough to most but he felt a sense of pride in recognizing both the content and the context.
Actualization. Introspection.
The Major’s attention shifted, the Capitán had started heading on her own towards stairs leading down. He had never needed to guide her anywhere, only offering help with unfamiliar places, when space permitted. One could’ve assumed she’d been here before with the ease at which she navigated towards the basement but the Major knew the trick. The currents of water led her way, or a depression in the air would catch her ear, she had grown to pay attention to subtle environmental queues. He had seen her progress in honing this fragile skill, but they had never talked about it and she didn’t brag to anyone, as the Capitán didn’t need to. Rainwater cascaded loudly alongside them as they followed the stairs down, she held her own against the railing, the Major only a step behind. Lamps in the stairwell didn’t light their path, Volantis didn’t carry currents to such old buildings and noone had felt the need to reactivate these independent systems. It was likely noone knew how anymore.
The water was dripping from the stairs into conducts at the bottom, gurgling loudly and leaving the path ahead relatively dry. The Major could tell the ambient humidity below ground was still critical. Had the Torrents pushed this far in? The alcove serving as a gate into the underbelly was hidden by the absence of any source of light, preventing further analysis. The total lack of lighting started to impede his vision and he stopped to let his lenses adapt. The Capitán continued ahead and stopped a few meters from him, past the entryway. For a moment she stood still, then he saw her entire body twitch. She staggered towards the stairs with a speed he’d never witnessed from her, letting her cane fall at the bottom of the stairs. She was climbing with the help of her hands and he soon lost sight of her, prioritizing saving the cane before it got swept away in the conducts. He looked back at the alcove, still shrouded in darkness, and swiftly followed her back up.
The Major found her in the middle of the empty hall, taking fast and heavy breaths in the light of the hollowed roof. He approached slowly but got stopped by her hand.
“No talk,” she said in one breath.
The Capitán’s voice was charged with emotion, she never presented herself as cold but the intensity in her voice surprised him. He stood motionless, her cane cradled in his arms.
The rhythm of her lungs slowed and she regained some composure, speaking in separate breaths, “The smell. Something down there. Go back down. Give here.”
She laid her hand out and he handed over the cane, giving her a look before heading back down. He hurried, even if she hadn’t told him to. Soon he was back at the entrance, non hesitantly crossing the alcove and into the underbelly. The first room was drowned in pitch black darkness, now that his eyes had adapted he could discern what laid around.
Mounds of organic matter, flesh and organs covering the walls and the ceilings. A pool of blood replaced rainwater, rending the floor invisible beneath a warm ankle deep layer. Barely processing the extent of what he was seeing, he headed deeper in, following a faint light that came from a tunnel up ahead, giving color to the incomprehensible tapestry that defiled everything he was able to discern. Hidden from the Sun, an impenetrable scarlet rose from the flooded floor and sickly yellows and blues of organs decorated every room. Eyes were planted on the piles of gores, unmistakable between the collapsed lungs and swaying entrails. Disconnected, all separated from their pairs, they looked at nothing, or not at something he could see. Most were blown open but some, encrusted in the glistening surfaces, followed his advance.
Every step he took was spent wondering if his instincts would activate, the Major had never known conflict he couldn’t solve by virtue of his size or the potential damage he could bring. He waited for his frame to take over, his design to come alive. Yet his core kept calm, his own eyes shifting between the cairns, wary of any movement. The Major still avoided meeting the morbid gazes, irrationally feeling the pressure of lightless irises in his peripheral view. Possibilities pulsing in his mind, he was waiting for a part of this aberrant mess to rise and lunge at him. As he went further and further, a vision of failure clouded his thoughts. He needed to be ready for anything, the Capitán was waiting up above. This couldn’t reach her. She wouldn’t see it coming. He saw her face in the reflection of the blood, fading away as every step of his disrupted the tranquil state of the endless iron sea. Everything was still, the only sound echoing through the underbelly were the ripples of his advance, echoing through every room. Everything was still.
Actualization. Introspection.
Actualization. Introspection.
Actualization. Introspection.
Actualization.