Helios sat in a plane, staring out the window with a book resting on his lap. "How long is this going to take?" he asked 003, who was sitting directly next to him.
"It will take two days to reach the Nether Principality, and we don't know how long the mission will last," 003 answered in a cold, hollow voice, his face obscured by the hood of his black robes.
"And why are you sitting so close? Go find another seat," Helios said, his voice laced with frustration.
003 scanned the cabin before looking back at Helios. "If I sit far away, you won't be able to hear me clearly," 003 stated, his tone remaining entirely emotionless.
Helios met 003's gaze with a blank stare. "I can hear you just fine if you sit behind me, in front of me, or even in that seat literally five steps away," he snapped. 003 offered no reply. With a heavy sigh, Helios leaned his head back against the headrest. "This is going to be a long trip," he muttered, picking his book back up.
A few moments later, Helios's eyes widened slightly. "Interesting," he murmured, suddenly snapping his gaze away from the pages to look at 003.
"What do you want from me?" 003 asked.
"I was wondering... how are P.O.C. members trained?" Helios asked, his curiosity piqued.
003 turned toward him, his aura shifting. "Why are you asking?" he questioned, his tone turning icy.
"The book I'm reading is about spies being trained. I wanted to see if even half of the things in here are true," Helios explained.
"What do you want to know?" 003 asked, his voice returning to its usual flat drone.
"How do you get your rankings?" Helios asked, closing his book.
"We achieve our rankings through natural selection," 003 said.
"What do you mean by 'natural selection'? Explain."
"In simple terms, the royal family takes in orphans and places them in a secret chamber for ten years or more," 003 said, his voice becoming deathly serious. "There are more than a hundred rooms. The first test is strength; you must survive on your own, fighting against others. Killing is permitted. The stronger you are, the higher your ranking within your room. Only twenty people survive out of every hundred. Then, they take the survivors from each room and put them all together. In that stage, they are not allowed to kill one another; they must create factions and lead through strength and intelligence. The leaders of each faction become the top members of P.O.C., numbered 010 through 001."
Helios thought of Nova and his distinctive fox mask. "Nova seems pretty weak to be such a high-ranking member," he remarked mockingly.
"Who?" 003 asked, sounding genuinely confused.
"You guys call him 001," Helios clarified with a smirk. "Are you sure you're all actually the strongest members?"
"He is the only exception," 003 explained, tilting his head slightly. "001 isn't the strongest physically, but he possesses other strengths that surpass us—tactics, leadership, and infiltration. His raw strength is comparable to someone in the double digits."
"Interesting. So, how long did you say this flight was going to take again?"
"Two days... if we don't get attacked," 003 said, a ghostly smirk playing on his lips.
"What do you mean 'if we don't get attacked'? Are you going to explain that?" Helios asked, bewildered.
"You will know soon enough," 003 replied, closing his eyes.
I hate this guy, but at least it's not those other three, Helios thought, remembering 004, 005, and 002. "Why don't you tell me a little bit about your ability?"
"My ability is a control type. It's called Judgement," 003 said in an uninterested drone.
"Abilities have different categories?" Helios asked, confused.
003 bowed his head slightly, as if burdened by Helios's ignorance. "What did those three even teach you? This is why I wanted to take over your training. Abilities have types depending on how they function. Control types mess with your perception or your body; Combat types target the physical form; Protection types are for guarding the summoner or others. There are also Mixed types. I'm keeping it simple because we don't need a full lesson on the first day."
Helios returned to his book. Outside, the moon shone brightly on the white plane as it soared above the clouds, surrounded by a sprinkle of stars. After a while, Helios looked at the man beside him again. "Are you moving?"
"Why should I move?" 003 asked calmly.
Helios closed his eyes in sheer frustration. "You know what? I'm not going to fight with anyone today." He stood up, squeezed past 003, and moved to another seat several rows away.
We're landing tomorrow. I shouldn't get angry; I still need to lead an army, Helios thought as he settled in and closed his eyes. I could have been sleeping or talking to Sara right now, but instead, I'm stuck with a random guy who feels like a psychopath.
"Human, how is your day going?" Circlet's voice echoed sharply in Helios's mind.
Helios gritted his teeth. "Give me two good reasons not to melt you crown," he snapped internally.
"Firstly, you can't melt me," Circlet retorted angrily. "Secondly, you need me to connect with the Veiled World for spiral energy. And lastly, I am trying to be nice and help you."
"What do you want to help me with? For both our sakes, I hope it's important."
"I can sense the energy of a Sovereign's Apostle. Don't worry, it's not a strong one—unless you're the one fighting it. Then you're losing," Circlet said mockingly.
"What is a Sovereign's Apostle?" Helios wondered, but Circlet didn't answer. Great. When I need you, I can't find you, but when I don't, you appear. I'm too tired for this. I'm going to sleep.
The next morning, the sun warmed Helios's face, prompting him to open his eyes.
"Morning," 003 said, his face hovering uncomfortably close to Helios's.
Startled, Helios threw a punch at 003's face, but the man blocked it effortlessly. "You have strong reflexes," 003 remarked, stepping back and taking a seat.
"Who wouldn't punch a random person staring at them the second they wake up?" Helios grumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Get your seatbelt on," 003 commanded, clicking his own into place.
"Why?" Helios asked.
Before the words had fully left his mouth, a missile shrieked through the air, narrowly missing the plane's left wing and sending the cabin into a violent shudder.