“I made a schedule to help train your Core on the next few days. Come see us.” This was the message Janus had received from Silas. He didn’t know why he said only Core, when he knew he had two, but he soon found out. “One can never be certain who might be intercepting our transmissions,” Silas explained later.

  Although Janus knew Silas was serious, he had his doubts. The Empire was already staggering under the weight of its numerous theaters of war. They were currently attempting to subjugate the Dwarven Conglomerate, the Elven Kingdom, the Democracy–another elven sovereign state, and the Tyranny of the Flesh. The Empire’s only saving grace was that its enemies were often too busy slaughtering one another to form a unified front. With so many fronts to manage, Janus did not see why the Empire would waste resources reading the digital scrapings of two blue bracelets, but he was not about to win an argument against a centenarian elf. He needed every scrap of help he could get.

  Janus knew his time was limited. After Registering, he had ten days until his bracelet synchronized with his Mana and displayed his status, and a first draft of this status is always sent to the Empire. If he was part elf, he didn’t want his first draft to be telling them he wasn’t a hundred percent human. So he needed to learn how to mask it.

  For nine days, Janus spent all his days on Silas’s store, completely focused on learning how to obfuscate his second Core. He barely saw Lyza, as she had to move due to being an F-Ranker, and when he left Silas’s home, he went to the very small room that was assigned to him in Sector 15 and went directly to bed. He did not see his family at all during this time.

  “Finally!” Janus said, slumping to the ground at the end of the tenth day. “When you first said you had some training for my Core, I thought I would be sitting on my ass the whole time concentrating. I didn't realize it involved a military drill designed to make my heart explode while I juggle mana.”

  Silas chided him. “First of all, watch your language. Second, you must maintain your mana with the same constancy as your breath. If your control falters the moment you cease your meditations, you shall prove a most pathetic mage when the scales of war shift against you.”

  “Yes, sorry, oh Great and Ancient Master,” Janus said, performing a bow that was far too deep to be respectful. “By the way, did you hear anything about my father? It’s been ten days since he vanished, and I can’t find anything about him. Do you really think he is an Elf? Am I really some long-lost elven prince? Should I start practicing my royal wave? Will you call me ‘My Lordship Janus’?”

  “Indeed. I am certain he is an elf, and I suspect he is among the most formidable I have ever encountered. My inquiries revealed that he was within his residence when the Mana Sword struck. Had he been caught unawares, a rank of no less than S would be required to survive such a strike and retaliate with such lethality. He did not merely fell a single Hunter; he defeated three Hunters and destroyed dozens of Abominations. And no, I shall not address you as 'Your Lordship.' You seem to forget that I, too, am of noble lineage. But you should practice your ‘Royal wave’. You may need it someday.”

  “Yay, go Dad. You are a real buzzkill, Silas. But seriously, I can't imagine my calm, 'let's-look-at-the-data' father doing that. It has to be a mistake. I know he is alive because he talked to me in the dream, but I figured he just used some high-tech elven artifact to survive the attack and another one to hack my brain?”

  “What you can or cannot fathom is entirely inconsequential. No artifact would help a person survive an assault from another person many Ranks above them. My sources are dependable and they are looking for him. As soon as we get any information, we shall inform you. So, tell me. How long until your synchronization?”

  “We have more than a minute. Just tell me one last thing. If I am half-elf, do I get a growth spurt? I am eighteen, but people still look at me and ask where my parents are. Is it because I am 'younger' in elf years?”

  “I actually do not think you are half-elf, but I shall elaborate more on this after the synchronization. However, it is true: upon reaching the age of ten, an elf’s physical maturation slows to half the speed of a human’s. That is why I delayed Lyza’s school entrance. She is twenty years of age, yet she possesses the form of a fifteen-year-old. You, Janus, possess the physical presence of a fourteen-year-old boy.”

  “Wait, no. If I am not half-elf, my body isn't of a fourt…” The sound of the bracelet interrupts him. He looks at it. “Oh God, here goes nothing.”

  NAME: Janus Vane

  RANK: F (Serf)

  RACE: Human

  “Ha. I’m appearing as human. Thank the Emperor for small, non-mutated mercies. So this is what the Empire sees?”

  “It is,” Silas replied.

  “Can I stop the mana-shuffling now? I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep while doing it.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Silas says “Allow me to re-dampen the mana in this chamber. Cease your concentration; let your mana settle into its natural state. What does the display indicate regarding your race now?”

  “It is blank. Just... a white space.”

  “What!?” It was the second time Janus saw Silas losing his composure. “That should be impossible!”

  “Yes, see here. It’s blank.”

  “It makes no sense… it should have said you were an elf.”

  “Well, at least it doesn't say 'Abomination’s Buddie.' I'll take the blank space over a death warrant,” Janus said. “But shouldn’t it say I’m a half-elf?”

  “I have a theory that you are a full-fledged Elf.”

  “Ha, okay. I liked the joke.” Janus said while waiting for Silas to laugh. He didn’t. “My mother must have just clipped my ears at birth, right?”

  “Time will tell us. But diverging from your genesis to your stats. Do you have any questions about them?”

  “I know ten is the human average and twenty is the peak for a non-awakened. By having everything above 20, I am not an F Rank anymore, right? Can I retire my 'loser' badge?”

  “Correct. Any stat below 20 would make you an F-Ranker. You are, at minimum, an E-Ranker. Your main stats are your Mana Stats, as they are above the Physical ones, and you were seen as a mage. Should three or more of your primary stats exceed fifty, you are classified as a D-Ranker. By these numbers, that is your current station. To achieve a C-rank, you must raise these values to two hundred and fifty. We shall discuss the requirements for B-rank when you have attained the maturity of a C-Ranker. It may seem a daunting climb, but true strength is found in breakthroughs. A single breakthrough can provide an exponential surge to every metric you possess.

  “There are some academic discussions that stipulate that the breakthrough should be used to dictate the Rank of people, and some other people say that Stats should be used. Either way, a breakthrough would boost all your stats equally.”

  “Well, thanks for the lecture,” Janus said, standing up to leave.

  “Janus. Your potential is an anomaly. I have never witnessed such elevated Resonance and Capacity in a newly awakened soul who was not of S-Rank potential. Do you comprehend the cause?”

  It is the two cores, right? Resonance is like magical constitution; my ability to tell magical attacks to go screw themselves. Capacity is endurance; my mana gas tank. The problem is, I can't exactly use the Uncreation Mana in public without getting executed.

  “Do not refer to it as Uncreation Mana. We shall call it... Unmana. In time, you may learn to filter the Unmana through your primary Core, disguising it as mundane energy. Regardless, in a moment of desperation, you possess far more mana than any peer of your level,” Silas concluded. “We are finished. It was a distinct honor to have provided your instruction.”

  Janus blinked. The sudden shift in tone caught him off guard. “Whoa, Silas. If you get any more solemn, I’m going to start charging you for the privilege of talking to me. 'Your Lordship' is starting to sound pretty good!” Janus laughed, but Silas only stared back with a weight that made the joke die in the air. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Thank you, Silas. Seriously. For everything.”

  “Go home and rest. You are a double agent now, Janus. Pay attention to how the Empire treats its 'citizens.' Observe the military. The dwarves loathe elves, but I request that you pay attention to their interactions. Lyza informed me you know their tongue; listen to what they do and do not say. Observe. Do not die. If you survive, we shall discuss the future.”

  Janus left, his mind a whirlpool. Am I really an elf? He touched his ears. They felt human. His blue hair and eyes were undeniable marks of Aetheric Pigmentation, yet his heart belonged to the gears and spires of Varkas. The Empire was his cradle; it had provided his home and his magitech training. He wondered if the Elves would have seen him as a brother or just a stranger.

  The "Serf" status of his F-Rank was no longer a theoretical threat; it was a cold, suffocating reality. Janus stepped into his new room in Sector 15 and felt the weight of the city pressing down on him. Even with the door sealed and the air filters humming at max capacity, the atmosphere lacked the crisp purity of Sector 2. It tasted of damp stone and rusty exhaust.

  His new home was a cramped box of mold and silence. Stripping off his clothes, he caught his reflection in the grime-streaked window. “At least I can still grow taller,” he muttered to the empty room. “Silver linings, Janus. Silver linings.”

  He sat on the edge of the narrow cot and began his nightly routine. He pushed his mana out, draining himself until his vision blurred and the room spun. Only when he was utterly hollowed out did he allow himself to collapse into a dreamless, exhausted sleep.

  The next day, the Academy HQ was a sea of gray uniforms. Janus found Junia in the queue. As he approaches her, he notices she is alone and seems bored.

  “Hi Junia. You ok?” Janus says while patting her shoulder.

  She smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. “Ah, thank the Emperor you are here. It’s so boring to stay in this queue. So, you got a good Rank? I couldn’t see as I was escorted out when the attack happened.”

  “Nah, I’m just an F-mage,” Janus says, shrugging. A week ago, those words would have been a shackle declaring his inaptitude. Now, they were just a convenient lie.

  Junia made a hurt, empathetic face. Even though she doesn’t like him much, she fears being cast as useless to the Empire. “I’m so sorry, but I heard that there are some people who can progress to higher Ranks even if their Rank is rubbi… I mean, is low. And since Rick is so sure you’re a genius, maybe some of his luck will rub off on you?”

  “Well, who knows?”

  “Hey guys, you are here! Hey, where is Rick?” Lomis, a student from their class, appears and greets them. She was close to Junia and Rick, but not close at all to Janus.

  “Rick is incommunicado,” Junia says. “He can’t talk even to me! I wanted to show him my skill!”

  “Uh… what skill?” Janus asked.

  “The skill you get when you register. Didn’t you get one?” Junia says, incredulous, she has to explain this.

  “No, I didn’t.” Janus and Lomis answer in unison.

  “Ah, sorry, this must be a Rank B thing.” She says, not sounding sorry at all.

  “Potential Rank B.” Janus corrects her, which makes her roll her eyes.

  They stand silently in the queue for a moment. After some time, though, Junia starts talking about a TV show Janus has never heard of to Lomis, so he zones her out.

  Janus stands on the queue just zoning out for a while, and then he interrupts what they are saying. “I heard they are sending many people to fight the Dwarves. Did you guys hear anything about it?”

  Both the girls stare daggers at him. “I don’t know. I’m a C-Rank and she’s a B-Rank. We don’t need to worry about this kind of thing as you do,” Lomis says, and Junia stifles her laughter. “Maybe you would feel more at ease surrounded by the likes of you.” Lomis adds. Janus finds all these attempts at bullying pathetic, so he just tsks and leaves the girls alone. It’s not like any of it was a surprise; he had felt that Junia only tolerated him because of Rick. Now that Rick was unreachable and Janus was an F-Ranker, she just didn’t need him anymore.

  He pulled one of his books from his bag, sat in a corner, and waited to be called. As the higher Ranks are called first, it took him a long time to be called.

  “You are going to the Dwarven Lands. We need bodies for the front,” the officer said hours later, stamping Janus’s papers with a bored thud. You have 3 hours to say goodbye to your family. In case of death, your family will receive 3 months of your salary and whatever property you have left in your bed. Any questions?”

  “I already said goodbye to my family. Where do I go now?” “Follow that man, he will show you.”

  Janus was led to a building that looked like a temple dedicated to a god of industry. It was a massive, cold cathedral of reinforced steel and humming gemstones. Scientists in white coats scurried behind reinforced glass. Huge cables, thick as tree trunks, snaked across the floor toward four massive gemstones arranged in a complex geometric sigil. In the center stood an altar and a portal that pulsed with a violent, swirling blue energy. A line of soldiers entered one by one, vanishing every ten seconds.

  As Janus approaches the Portal, he starts feeling his Abomination Core flaring up. He tries to smother it with his other Core, but as he gets closer and closer, he feels that the Static is getting much stronger. It feels like the Uncreation Mana is resonating with the Portal and wants to leave his body to devour it. He held it back through sheer willpower. It felt like holding back a physical surge of vomit.

  Each step was a tremendous effort. “Thank God I had trained with Silas to control my Mana better”, Janus thinks, because even after 9 days of training, he feels his Core is almost spilling. The guard in the front sees his pale face and says. “That’s why I tell people that navy-haired trash shouldn’t join the military. Look at the face of this one.”

  Janus felt a spark of heat. Navy-haired. The slur for those with blue or green hair color. He didn't respond. He couldn't. He was too busy keeping his soul from leaking out.

  Another guard says. “Don’t worry about what he says. Are you feeling alright?” To which Janus only Nods. “You may feel a slight discomfort because of the different Mana wavelength of the two worlds. It’s normal for some people to feel queasy because of this shift. If you are still feeling bad after 2 days, look for a healer so they can help you. OK?” Janus nods again, wanting to finish the trip as quickly as possible. They give the go-ahead, and Janus steps forward.

  As soon as his foot touches the Portal, he feels the Uncreation Mana moving through his body in the direction of his foot. Wanting to be done with it, he just jumps forward.

  Time froze as Janus is floating in a tunnel of blue and purple energy, where the point where he came from and the point where he is going to are doors of transparent white energy. Not being able to hold it anymore, he feels his barriers snapping, and he releases the Unmana.

  The gray mana exploded. It was a ravenous, inexorable tide that began consuming the very walls of the travel tunnel. He doesn’t know how to move forward, so he starts trying to swim in the air and shouting in anger. His Unmana spread, consuming all the Tunnel, making him float aimlessly in the nothingness of the world between worlds. The Unmana comes back to him and enters him, imprinting into him new knowledge that he couldn’t decipher yet. The pain is impossible to resist; he feels he is about to pass out. Suddenly, the Tunnel is reestablished just outside of his reach, and it pulses, sending him astray into the nothingness of the energy void.

  Janus is terrified by what is happening. He is paralyzed by the searing pain and floating aimlessly, not knowing where he is or where he will land. Out of the blue, he feels himself pulled at a terrifying speed toward an energy door near his intended exit. As the gray static mana continues searing knowledge into his very soul, he loses all control over his body. He begins to spin violently while shouting in anger and fear.

  With a jolt, the world between worlds spits him out. The shift in gravity catapults him into the open sky. For a heartbeat, he hangs suspended in the air. He thinks he sees the silhouette of a city or perhaps ancient ruins, but he cannot be certain because there is no time to focus. Janus begins to plummet. Since he is unable to control the fall, he ends his flight by slamming face-first into the ground.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” he shouts in anger while punching the ground. As he stands up and sees his nose is bleeding slightly and he lost his bag inside the portal, he starts shouting at the top of his lungs. “Can’t I be just a normal Rank B! I just wanted to be fucking normal. A B-Ranker, be treated with respect, live with my parents, and have skills given by the Codex. Become a hero to my people! I’m not even asking for everything, just one of these things!” Janus kicks a rock, sending it flying far away. At least by being far from the city, he doesn’t need to hold back his Unmana. Like a dam being broken, he feels a huge relief as his Unmana is released around him.

  “Can’t I go through a portal without being ejected in the middle of a desert without anything to help me! What more will happen to me? Will the Dwarves find me? Is that the next item on the 'Screw Janus' checklist? Goddamnit. I just wanted to be a normal person!” He slumped to the ground, tears of pure, hot rage streaking his dusty face.

  After calming a little, he opens his eyes and looks at his surroundings. The area around him was a graveyard. The rocks were turned to powder. The desert plants were gray ash. A passing beetle had been unmade into dust. Even the sand had lost its color and was just ash. It was eerie, silent, and wrong.

  Janus stood up, feeling slightly spent. He started feeling in his soul what new knowledge was seared into him, and to his surprise, there were four new Sigils. One was designating an origin point, another was a destination, and the other two seemed like nouns. One of the noun Sigils was similar to one he had read about in books, and he thought it indicated Varkas, his homeworld. So the other Sigil must be for Khorum, the dwarven world.

  An idea appears in his head. Using his Abomination Core to feed Mana, instead of creating Rifts, he tries creating two portals, one close to another. It works, and he can even see the destination when looking through one portal, but the problem is the drain on Unmana. He releases the Unmana, holding one of the Portals, and creates another very high in the sky. Looking through his first, he confirms that what he had seen was, in fact, a city. He releases both portals and breathes deeply.

  “Okay, Janus. Now I just need to relax and walk towards that city. Nothing bad will happen. I’ll arrive there and explain that there was a problem in the portal,” Janus tells himself, trying not to spiral into pessimism. “The problem is almost over, and I will laugh with Rick and Lyza talking about this. I reckon they’ll find it hilarious. Rick will prob…”

  Janus heard a loud, distant crack. He did not have time to process the sound before something jagged tore through the back of his shoulder and propelled his body forward. He slammed into the ground face-first for the second time that hour.

  A white-hot, agonizing pain exploded in his right shoulder, radiating through his chest until his vision blurred. Only then did the reality of the shot register. He had been hit by a sniper. Gasping for air and clawing at the sand, Janus looked back. Through the red haze of pain, he saw four metallic shapes cresting the dunes. They were mobile suits. Dwarves.