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Sam lay on a fur-lined hammock. It was white, soft, and fluffy, and it was out on the balcony of his residence. He stared up at the moonlit night sky, and he readjusted the blanket covering his body, exposing his arms to the chilly night air. After purchasing Phantom Bo and the jade thumb ring, he had gone to a restaurant with April. There was a famed dish he had heard of while he was a talentless called filet mignon, and he had it during his time in Et Serpentium, but it wasn’t anything to write home about. Now, after eating the dish at one of the best restaurants humanity had to offer, Sam was still unimpressed by the flavorless chunk of meat. Who cared how tender it was if it didn’t taste like anything? He might as well have eaten a block of fried tofu.
Sam picked up the stone tablet resting on the balcony’s table and held it against his chest before placing the blanket back over himself. Something he didn’t miss about Et Serpentium was the lack of cold weather. It was never cold underneath the desert, always at the perfect, mild temperature. Sam closed his eyes and focused his psychic vision on the tablet, forming a connection with it. An interface popped into his mind, and he maneuvered through the reptilian technology with ease using his Sahasrara.
It didn’t take long for the image of a yellow reptilian with green eyes to appear in his head. “Hi, Sam!”
“Hey, Ellie,” Sam said, his lips unmoving in reality. Communicating with someone through reptilian tablets was similar to talking in the field of candy Raindu had constructed to talk with Sam over long distances.
Ellie beamed, her eyes lighting up. “Did you have fun today?” she asked. “What did you do? Did you train lots?”
A wry smile appeared on Sam’s face. “I woke up in the early evening, bought a weapon, ate dinner, and went home,” he said. “I haven’t trained at all.”
“That’s not good,” Ellie said and pouted. “Your body is changing every day. If you don’t keep up with your training, one day, you’ll find your body unable to move according to your thoughts!” Ellie leaned forward and patted Sam’s head, the feeling similar to someone climbing out of his phone screen to greet him. “You said you’d take care of yourself, and that involves training every day.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “I’ll have the graylings assemble a proper training area in my backyard.”
“Not just training!” Ellie said. “You have to fight too. Human bodies are like gloopy blobs of molten metal. If they’re not constantly shaped, they’ll deform and lose their purpose over time. Also, you have to take care of your body; I heard there aren’t any jigglers in the human city.” Her eyes lit up. “I’ll ask the graylings to deliver one to you.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, “but you don’t have to worry about that. I have a personal nurse.”
Ellie tilted her head. “Are they better than the jiggler?”
Sam blinked. Considering he could be restored to peak condition by entering a stone coffin and having his body shaken for a few minutes—or hours depending on the severity of the injury—April’s healing ability was definitely slower. “Now that I think about it, no.”
“Then it looks like I was right for worrying,” Ellie said and exhaled while shaking her head. “After all, your Sahasrara might be unlocked, but you’re still a human; you’re bound to make mistakes or overlook things.”
“And what about you?” Sam asked. “Are you doing well in your classes?”
“Bye!” Ellie said, ignoring Sam’s questions. “Don’t forget to listen to what I said! Train and fight!”
Sam’s vision went black before returning to the tablet’s user interface. He opened his eyes, the moon shining bright overhead as the stars twinkled. A sigh escaped from Sam’s mouth, and he lifted his arm, waving it halfheartedly. Not long after, a grayling’s head appeared in Sam’s view, the creature leaning over the hammock to make eye contact with Sam.
“Yes?” the grayling asked. “How may I be of service?”
“Do some research on opportunities for me to engage in combat,” Sam said. “Inform me of the options in a succinct manner.”
“Right away,” the grayling said and walked off.
Sam exhaled and stared up at the sky. He was so carefree that it was almost unnatural. He didn’t have to worry about anything: finances, responsibilities. With his talent, he was allowed to pursue whatever he wanted, and with so much freedom, he didn’t know what to do next. Most people used their talents to find jobs to financially support themselves, and most of their waking hours were consumed by work, most of them just living to work—also known as being part of the rat race. With his abundance of free time, he could do a lot of good for the world. …Or he could slack off and relax. Humanity was doing fine before he existed, and it’d probably do fine if he didn’t do anything to destabilize it.
Raindu poked its head out of Sam’s shirt and crawled out to the edge of the hammock. It waved at Sam, the ferret’s intentions as clear as day inside his head. Raindu was going back to Treasured Crystals to loot the armory.
Sam’s expression darkened. “Why do you have to loot it?” he asked and sighed. “You’re not going to use everything you take, so why not behave yourself like Birdbrained and buy one or two things you need?”
Raindu tilted its head. What if it needed something from Treasured Crystals later? With more crystal accessories, weapons, and baubles, the more options the ferret could choose from in the future. Instead of touching someone to remove their hearts, maybe it could whip out a weapon that’d only stun the target. Stealing from the crystal shop was an act of kindness; who knew how many lives they could save in the future?
Sam’s eye twitched. Since when did the ferret care about acts of kindness? It was obviously spouting nonsense, but he wasn’t going to—couldn’t—stop the ferret. As long as Raindu didn’t get caught, and the crime wasn’t traced back to Sam, he was willing to overlook its actions. A sigh escaped from Sam’s mouth as the ferret hopped off the hammock and onto the balcony railing. Then, it scampered down the edge, disappearing from Sam’s view.
Sam shook his head before staring back up at the sky. His brow furrowed as an odd splotch appeared in front of the moon. It almost looked person-shaped. Sam squinted, but it didn’t help; whatever the thing was, it was too far away for him to see clearly without any optical aids. If he had unlocked his third eye chakra, it might’ve been a different story, but he hadn’t. It was a bit unsettling to have something hovering so high over him since he was outdoors; if he could see it, it could see him. In that case, he’d simply go back inside.
Sam swung his legs over the side of the hammock, his feet touching the cold balcony tiles before finding his fuzzy, self-heating slippers. He slipped them on and stood up, letting the cold night air wash over him while taking in a deep breath. Then, he looked up at the moon once more. Upon seeing the splotch in the same spot, Sam shook his head and went back inside. Whatever it was, the odds of it being here to deal with him were slim to none, so why was he feeling so anxious?
“Something seems to be approaching,” a grayling said to Sam as soon as he stepped inside the room. The grayling stepped past Sam, guarding the threshold of the balcony.
Sam frowned and looked up at the moon. The splotch was growing larger, and its details came into view. A humanoid creature covered in blue feathers grew larger in size before landing on the balcony with a thump, blowing the blanket out of Sam’s hammock as the structure rocked back and forth from the shockwave created by the blue avian’s impact.
Sam’s expression darkened as he stared at the blue avian. It was slightly taller than him, and it had orange, eagle-like eyes. It was naked, but since its whole body was covered in blue feathers, it didn’t seem immodest. Sam’s brow furrowed as the blue avian spoke to him without opening its beak, the creature’s voice vibrating inside of his head.
“Are you the master of the Anunaki?” the blue avian asked. “You’re connected, but….”
Sam’s brow furrowed. Master of the Anunaki? The blue avian was talking about Birdbrained, and it was clear to Sam the person in front of him was one of the watchers, a blue avian that defeated higher-dimensional beings he had learned about from the graylings and Wendy.
“So, the master of the Anunaki is within this residence,” the blue avian said. “Bring me to it before it has a chance to spread chaos.”
Sam took in a deep breath, eyeing the blue avian. If he attacked it, what were the chances he’d win? If this funny-looking person was confident enough to take on Birdbrained by itself, didn’t that mean Sam had no chance?
“I wouldn’t,” the blue avian said. “Though I take no pleasure in bullying the weak, if you insist on attacking me, I will defend myself.”
“You’re a mind reader?” Sam asked.
“No,” the blue avian said. “I don’t have access to your mind, but your body betrays your thoughts. By carefully observing you, it’s possible to understand what you’re thinking.”
Sam wasn’t sure how that was possible, staring at the blue avian with a dubious expression. It wasn’t a mind reader, but essentially, it could read his mind. In that case, it was simply extremely good at reading his vibe—one that Wendy found difficult reading ever since he obtained Raindu.
“You can do the same thing if you use your Ajna and Sahasrara in tandem,” the blue avian said. “Of course, you’ll have to master them first.”
Sam scratched his head. The blue avian was here to deal with Birdbrained because the eagle was a higher-dimensional being; however, did the blue avian not realize it could take Sam hostage or simply kill him outright? Well, he still didn’t know what’d happen to Raindu and Birdbrained if he died; after all, he hadn’t died before, and he didn’t plan on changing that. Since the blue avian was chatty, Sam had no qualms asking it questions. “What kind of chaos could the master of the Anunaki spread?”
“You are unaware?” the blue avian asked. “Has the mess it caused ten thousand years ago already been forgotten?”
Sam blinked. “My history class only taught what happened up to three hundred years ago and a little before that, not to mention I failed, so….”
The blue avian stared at Sam, its eagle-like eyes unblinking. “In that case, allow me to educate you,” the blue avian said. It walked past the grayling and entered Sam’s room, taking a seat on a couch meant for guests. “You’re … an evolved primate, yes?”
“Human,” Sam said. Since Earth had ascended only three hundred years ago, it made sense for the natives of the plane to not know much about humanity.
“Yes, human,” the blue avian said. “First, I would like to congratulate your species on their collective awakening.”
Sam waited for more, but it seemed like the blue avian was expecting a response. “Oh, thanks,” he said, “but I’m not sure I’m the one you should be congratulating. I was born after the cataclysm.”
“Regardless,” the blue avian said. “It’s understandable you don’t understand the dangers of associating with the master of the Anunaki. It is a mischievous being, one that thrives off negative emotions. It’ll do anything in its power to dampen the mood because it enjoys the low vibrations produced by misery.”
Sam recalled the time Birdbrained murdered Squishy. The mood was pretty damp, and the queen was pretty miserable, making the whole thing bitter for everyone else.
The blue avian stared at Sam for a bit before continuing. “The master of the Anunaki, who I shall not name lest it gain power, is outrageously good at spotting weaknesses in relationships. It has the ability to plant thoughts into another’s mind but in their own voice, making the victim think they were the ones who came up with the thought themselves.”
Sam blinked. “Isn’t that just telepathy?”
“Advanced telepathy,” the blue avian said. “When the master of the Anunaki makes a move, the victim doesn’t even know they’ve been targeted. More than once has it broken relationships between people simply by suggesting, in the victim’s own voice, their significant other is working against them. Those planted thoughts drag one’s mind into a negative quagmire, one that lowers the victim’s vibe as their minds come up with negative thoughts on their own.”
Sam scratched his head. “Can you give me an example?”
“Procrastination,” the blue avian said. “You have an important task, but the master of the Anunaki convinces your own mind to put off the important task to the last minute: I still have plenty of time. I can do it later because it’ll only take a second. That can cause undue stress and the possibility of failure down the line. Through the Anunaki, the master observes and gathers information on potential victims to make targeted attacks.”
“So, you’re going to kill the master of the Anunaki because it can make people procrastinate?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It can do far more than make people procrastinate,” the blue avian said, its eyes narrowing. “There are much more insidious thoughts it can plant in a person’s mind. Here’s a few: I’m a failure. I hate myself. I don’t deserve to be loved. Wouldn’t everyone be happier if I were gone? I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up. If so-and-so were dead, my life would be so much better; I should kill them.” The blue avian shook its head. “Only those who’ve unlocked their Manipura can cast aside such negative thoughts with ease, but there are far too many species out there that’re susceptible to the master of the Anunaki’s tricks.”
Sam turned his head to look at the graylings lining his wall as personal guards. To be blunt, they had evil personalities, all of them wishing to spread chaos and destruction; it made sense for their lord, Birdbrained, to have an equally terrible personality. If Birdbrained could make a whole populace depressed, angry, and violent, it made sense for the blue avian to nip the source in the bud before it had a chance to do its thing—which was spread graylings around as observers to pick out potential victims. Now that Sam thought about it, wasn’t he aiding Birdbrained by spreading the graylings to the six major companies?
“Those Anunaki are observing you and I at this very moment,” the blue avian said, keeping its orange eyes trained on Sam. “The master of the Anunaki can sow dissension between us simply by planting thoughts in your mind. Perhaps you’re thinking how you’re also guilty because of the way you’re using the Anunaki, but those thoughts aren’t your own. It’s trying to rope you into its alliance, when in actuality, it’ll be better for you to cooperate with me.”
“Why would it be better for me to cooperate with you?” Sam asked.
“Simple,” the blue avian said. “You won’t get hurt that way.”
Sam’s brows furrowed. “How badly hurt are we talking?”
“No lasting damage,” the blue avian said. “Like I said, I’m not one to hurt an ant.”
Sam blinked. In that case, it was totally worth getting hurt.
“But if an accident occurs, I won’t cry over a squished ant either,” the blue avian said.
Sam nodded. “Alright,” he said, “let me call the master of the Anunaki over. Is that what you’d like me to do?”
“That’d be perfect,” the blue avian said.
Sam nodded again before closing his eyes. He visualized the field of candy, and not long after, a green-tinted eagle and black ferret appeared. “There’s a blue avian here,” Sam said, getting straight to the point. “It wants to deal with Birdbrained.”
“Hello, Sam,” Birdbrained said and spread its wings in greeting. “Should I run?”
“I’m not sure,” Sam said and frowned. “If you fought it, would you win?”
Birdbrained shook its head. “I’m not good at fighting.”
Sam turned towards Raindu. “Can you beat a blue avian?”
“Hello, Sam,” Raindu said. “I’ve never encountered one before, but it’s worth trying. Birdbrained is too useful to give to someone else.”
Sam nodded. The eagle really was useful since it allowed him to control the graylings, and that made his life tremendously easier thanks to the wealth and personal convenience the graylings provided. Not only that, Sam wasn’t sure if his Sahasrara would remain unlocked if Birdbrained were to disappear. “Alright,” Sam said. “Here’s the plan; Birdbrained will come over, and when a fight breaks out, I’ll step in. We’ll distract the blue avian long enough for Raindu to touch it and remove whatever needs to be removed.”
“You have to think further ahead,” Birdbrained said. “What if two blue avians come next time once we defeat this one? Instead of killing it, we have to capture it.”
Sam and Birdbrained turned towards Raindu. “Do you think you can capture it?” Sam asked. “Maybe by stealing its mobility?”
“I can try,” Raindu said. “But it might not work.”
“If it doesn’t work,” Sam said, his eyes narrowing, “then show no mercy.” The blue avian might’ve had a good reason for dealing with Birdbrained; however, Sam didn’t know if it was even true. For all he knew, the blue avian could’ve been lying to him, but he doubted it. Still, even if Birdbrained planned on sowing chaos throughout Oterra, Sam would still be on the eagle’s side because it was a part of his talent. How could he give up his new and improved life without a fight? It might’ve been better for everyone if Birdbrained died, but what about Sam? He’d prevent a threat to humanity, but what would humanity do for him to make up for his loss? As Ellie had said, there was no one looking out for Sam, so he had to look out for himself.