Destinguishing my surroundings, I see a Golden thread, shimmering with a strange warmth, then another and another—each one gleaming with fragile hope—and another and another…Countless threads wove together—millions, maybe billions—making counting them impossible.
Endless strands thickened into golden cords, weaving a vast web.
At the center sat a mysterious creature, a person, maybe. Holding and caressing hundreds of moving threads, it slowly wove some structure.
Its creation was still in the early stages, making it unrecognizable and impossible to determine what it was creating or what its intentions were. Moving each thread orderly, every single one placed with purpose and care, every movement more precise than any master of his craft would ever be able to achieve, utterly inhumane.
The creature shifted its gaze, drifting from the threads it was so tenderly caressing, and slowly turned toward… me?
What I saw was not its true form but merely a silhouette of what one would assume to be a human. Before I could see its face or where the silhouette of its face would be…
***
Suddenly, the golden web and the mysterious creature faded and grew blurry.
The next moment, the young man jolted awake in an unfamiliar environment, tears running down his face.
Noctis, still a bit dazed, tried to wipe them away, but something held his left hand in place, making his attempts fail.
A light rustling of metal rang through the room.
Looking down, a handcuff holding his wrist fell into his line of sight, with the other side of it chained to the bed he was lying on.
With his free right hand, he finally wiped away the tears and stared at the remnants now spread across his palm, confusion showing clearly.
Why?
Of course, he had many reasons to be crying, weeping even, like all of his stuff being destroyed, or how his already bad financial circumstances were now an absolute unsalvageable catastrophe.
And yet for some reason, he felt that this was not the reason for his tears. That there was something else, something completely different, utterly unfathomable.
Vaguely remembering dreaming about something, something of great importance, but being unable to recall what it was.
Frustrated, he pushed these thoughts aside. Noctis had more urgent matters to attend to. He looked around, seriously analyzing his environment, and recalled what had happened.
It seems I'm in a clinic. Considering the handcuff, I can assume I'll be questioned, or… worse.
He was wearing a blue hospital gown and had a bandage wrapped around his head. The room was meant for a single person, which was surprising and, at the same time, not really surprising, considering his circumstances and his own theories.
Letting out a resigned sigh and mumbling to himself, "Why did that guy stop his actions and simply leave?" continuing in a conflicted tone,
"And what did he mean by 'Interesting?' and why did he say we would meet again?"
Frustrated and confused, Noctis sighed again, looking down at his completely fine hand.
"Did I throw something at that guy or not?" He wondered aloud.
Internally questioning Reality itself and what could be truly trusted. Struggling to make sense of his surroundings and distract himself from these thoughts, a nurse walking by noticed that he had awoken.
A bit startled by the looks of it, she ran off somewhere in a hurry.
What's got her so riled up?
Not in a position to change his circumstances with his actions, Noctis resigned himself to what was to come, a slight hope shimmering in his heart.
After waiting a few minutes, the nurse returned, accompanied by an elderly man; he wasn't wearing that dark blue coat anymore, but that was clearly the man whom he had last seen before falling unconscious.
Now that his mind was clearer, Noctis could look at him more closely. He was of medium build—probably a head taller than him. He had slicked-back brown hair streaked with grey, no facial hair, and pale skin, a color shared by most citizens. He was wearing a brown suit with fitted pants, clothes typically for more formal matters.
Overall, he had an elegant demeanor.
However, his appearance didn't match the atmosphere he was emitting at the moment, at least.
For some ungraspable reason, Noctis felt extremely intimidated by him. It was as if an unseen pressure fell upon him the moment the eyes of that man landed on him.
This was not a feeling that came from being of a lower standing than him or from being younger—it was more like a primal instinctive fear that came from within. Before Noctis could even give a sound, the elderly gentleman took out a board and, upon looking at it, spoke in a flat tone.
"Noctes Raveth, age 17?"
"Resident of district three, outer layer inhabitant."
Under the man's stern gaze, Noctis's normally not courageous but definitely not fearful self evaporated in seconds. Only able to nod submissively, chest tight with anxiety, his helplessness echoed the fear he felt when he met the man in the robes. Embarrassment heated his cheeks, and his breath quickened as shame mingled with dread, making me feel small and exposed before him.
"Are you aware of the situation you're in?"
With thoughts swirling uneasily and the pressure of his gaze weighing on him, he shook his head and spoke, his voice hesitant and barely audible.
"No,… not in its entirety."
Shame and fear prick at him as he spoke, mirroring how one would feel when caught in a lie by a figure of authority, like a father or boss.
After a few seconds of displeased silence, the elderly man asked, "You are aware what a 'Concept Fragment' is?"
Hearing this, reassurance instinctively graced his inards, knowing his assumption had been correct. As the pressure softens a little, he began speaking more quickly, eager to answer before the man grew impatient again.
"Yes, to a certain extent, at the very least, I know the common knowledge surrounding them."
"Elaborate,"
The man instructed, his tone cold but oddly comforting, pulling out information with well-practiced ease.
"Well, as far as I'm aware, when one follows religious doctrines, these fragments are blessings from higher beings. If you come into contact with a fragment, it becomes part of you, and you begin the journey to divinity, tasked with protecting humanity's glory.
T-They can give all sorts of fantastical and scary abilities and so on as well."
With the tension easing just a bit, Noctis asked in a small and uncertain voice, the incongruety in his character perplexing him greatly, "M-may I know why I'm handcuffed to the bed?"
A desperate hope tinged his words, searching for an ounce of reassurance.
For the first time, the elderly man took his eyes off the clipboard and replied flatly,
"Standard procedure."
Without waiting for a response, he took out a key, unlocked the handcuffs one by one, a blue light briefly emanating from them before disappearing just as fast, as he stored them safely inside a briefcase lying by his feet, every movement very methodical, almost machine-like.
Looking me up and down, he elaborated.
"You are partially right. Concept fragments are also called fragments of authority, granting the wielder authority over a part of a specific concept."
Stirring as he watched my face, or to be more precise, my hair intently:
"The silver strain in your hair. Has it always been there?"
Shaking his head quickly in denial, Noctis prompted the man to begin noting down something on his clipboard, which he had been holding like a secretary throughout the entire conversation.
Continuing this question-and-answer game, he asks with a small, somewhat sinister smile.
"And are you aware of the disadvantages of the unity between man and divinity?"
Staying silent and pondering his question for a while, Noctis answered honestly,
"I only know some stories I have read and, of course, that there are higher beings who have transcended the simple realm of mortality, and that one is to immediately go to any and all government facilities the moment they make contact with such a fragment, following paragraph 18 of the city laws.
There are supposedly serious side effects to making contact with a fragment. Some simply die on the spot when trying to absorb them, or they mutate terribly—I have heard."
The man looked at me, then at my file, and asked, showing a bit of confusion,
"Wasn't your father a Weilder of such Authorities?"
Quite surprised and feeling a pang of longing that makes his heart ache, he answered honestly once more, this time, however, holding back a few of the subtleties:
"Yes, but he didn't speak much about his work back then.
The only thing I remember him saying was that I should never ever become an Authority Wielder.
There was a strange sorrow in his eyes when he told me. He didn't explain why. Heee simply told me that this path is not for man to travel and started veering off the topic."
The memory's weight pressed on his chest, a mix of sorrow and confusion lingering with each word.
Nodding, the man eased off and said simply,
"Well, you must have guessed it already,—the cause of your apartments' destruction and the reason we are having this conversation."
Wanting to verify sooner rather than later.
Noctis asked directly.
"Was what destroyed my apartment truly an Authority fragments decent, and if so, what does that mean for me?"
Frowning slightly, clearly dismayed by his improper conduct, he answered slowly, "Yes, you will have to figure that out yourself, but before that, first of all, I need to know something.
Do you feel a strong, weak, or almost non-existent Call to some other place?"
Quite bewildered, Noctis asked in return simply,
"Call?"
Adding promptly, the man said in a serious tone,
"Do you feel that you are being pulled somewhere, that your very being is being ripped toward some place at all times?"
Pondering for a moment, meditating internally, looking for something out of the ordinary, some pain or feeling that was not usual,
"A bit too the point that I might be imagining it?"
There was something, some feeling that someone or thing was trying to tear him to some far-off place, but it was so pitifully weak, muffled like something was holding it back to the point that it could truly be played off as a delusion and imagination of his own desire not to stand out.
Certainly nothing that could ever harm him.
Writing this down and relaxing his expression, the instinctive aversion and suppression that Noctis was feeling disappeared without a trace, in an instant.
He spoke in a now warmer tone, "If that's the case, we can leave ourselves time. I'll first of all explain to you what is going to happen next. Do you understand?"
Dumbstruck by his change in attitudes and the disappearance of the pressure, Noctis couldn't help but ask himself.
Did that guy use some kind of ability to pressure me into telling nothing but the truth, or why is he so certain I didn't lie, and why has his attitude changed all of a sudden?
He's almost like a different person!?
Noctis nodded in acknowledgment and gestured for the man to continue speaking, hiding his bewilderment deep within.
Continuing with his completely new attitude, the man spoke in a much lighter tone, his deep voice no longer so pronounced:
"As you have said, your Call is very weak, meaning we can take our time. You will now have a few choices to pick from. You are aware what kind of city this is, right?"
Nodding once more, he continued.
"As a producer of "Notium." This City is ruled, first and foremost, by the government and, second, by companies that produce or process this resource.
When an Authority Wielder is born, they have to be supervised and trained to prevent… accidents.
You will have to join a group, which could be one of the companies I mentioned earlier or the government.
The available companies are:
The mercenary producer "Voidmarch",
the arms dealer and producer "Vantor Balistics",
The medical facility "Noxen Pharmaceutical",
and the two Notium procurers, "Prim Notium Industries" and "Abyssal Works."
He continued in a now more enticing tone, the firmness Nocits felt before completely gone.
"I, as a city representative, have the obligation to inform you that working for the government has certain benefits, and as we are always short on staff, we have an extensive guidance program which can not be compared to that of the companies."
Swamped with too much information, Noctis blurted out the last word he heard, in an attempt to win time and process the information.
"Guidance program?"
The man nodded and elaborated.
"This is a sort of extra schooling. We have many people like you join us every year, and as the ones who make the first contact with new Authority wielders, we recruit the most. So we have to introduce most of them into this world and see how things go.
Meaning we have a lot of experience in this field."
Still bewildered, a humorous thought bubbled up. This sounded suspiciously like a sales pitch.
Considering his offer. All of it sounded appealing, but Noctis had enough experience not to take things at face value. Having briefly worked for a big company, he could somewhat see the other side, but he still wanted to hear all the offers and not undersell his worth.
He wasn't the most wealth-oriented person, but neither was he someone averse to it.
After some thought, Noctis asked. "If I join you, can I change jobs later?"
The gentleman responded in his older, less enthusiastic tone, yet his smile did not waver.
"Of course, you have the option to jump ships later; however, as we do invest quite a bit into you, your contract will require 5 years of service.
Of course, before you can join anyone, you need to know the very basics of this world of Authority Wielders. That is where I will bring you next. It is a sort of school, during your stay there you will live there and be tightly supervised."
After more thought, the decision was made to postpone major decisions. In truth, it seemed he had no true choice from the get-go. The framing of everything was simply chosen to entice.
"How long will I stay at that school?"
"About 3 months to a year, it's hard to say since this can vary greatly, depending on the Authority you received. Do you have anything of worth that you'd like to get, or can we go?"
Shaking his head and glancing down at his lap, his voice was quiet and a bit embarrassed.
"I doubt any belongings of mine survived the impact, so…" words trailing off, resignation plain in his posture.
***
Sitting in the backseat, I stare out the window, watching as the buildings grew larger the closer we got to the city center, every building covered by a thick layer of snow, weakly illuminated by artificial lights and a minuscule red glow from above, the red light weakening the closer we got to the center, exchanged for a purple shine.
Well, Father, I guess I ended up like you after all, even if it was against your wishes.
The view was beautiful, distracting me for a moment from such depressing thoughts, a white maze spanning into infinity before my eye.
Suddenly, a realization dawned: I had forgotten to ask the man's name.
Turning in my seat with an awkward laugh, I said, unsure of how to ask without making it awkward—more awkward.
"This will sound silly, but with all the questions, I forgot to ask your name."
Taking his attention off the road for a moment, the older man answers in his relaxed but stern tone.
"Darron."
Not knowing how to continue the conversation, I felt discomfort creep up the back of my neck. Lampooning my abhorrence of silence and my lack of social skills.
It's NOT MY FAULT.
It's because I never liked conversing with others too much, well, never would be an overexaggeration… Okay, it might be my fault that I have gotten so rusty, but books are at least partially to blame!!
How could it be that someone like me, who loves gambling, has horrendous social skills? Thinking deeper, it might be that gambling is partially to blame, as well, considering that hiding one's emotions during that activity was key.
After a while, Darron spoke in a distant tone that I had yet to hear from him.
"Let me give you a word of advice, from the old to the younger generation: never reveal the origin of your Authority, if you do, your future will turn bleak and have little more than hardship and loss."
Surprised by his ominous words, I try to ask,
"What do…"
"Were here"
This guy changes his character like there is no tomorrow!
The car's door opened on its own. Staggering out of the car, the biting cold rushing over my skin, I was stunned by the sight before me. A giant hole, far, far below the floor, nowhere in sight.
This was the city center. The entire city was built around this crater. The people of this city collectively nicknamed it the "abyss" because it seemed to have no bottom.
Two gigantic bridges spanned the abyss of that crater, meeting in the middle to form a cross. If it weren't so dark, I would be able to see a small island placed on it, a machine where the bridges meet, a machine that constantly pumps something out of the abyss, where the wealthy and people of high standing live.
Averting my gaze from the abyss, I see a small building, or to be more precise, a building small in comparison to the other buildings surrounding the abyss. It was quite a well-built facility, with four floors, constructed from standard metal and concrete materials.
These were the most commonly used building materials at the time because they were cheap and among the most sturdy for the price. What it lacked in height, it made up for in width, as if it were built with the expectation that one would need lots of space in the near future.
Tilting my head slightly and looking back towards the car, which was just about to drive off.
Was he waiting for me to go in? If I asked him, he would most likely have answered "Regulations" or something of the sort, taking the tone he had at the beginning.
Sighing under my breath, I turn my head back towards the building, which compensated for its lack of height with width, and start walking towards it…
This would be a new beginning.