The Conduit was turning for the hotter as more time passed.

  The steam that so thickly gathered around the center hissed at their skins. Krocko heaved a deep breath and hurriedly began weaving his left arm in a blurry sequence of hand motions—the somatic components to cast a spell. With one push to seal the chain, a complex circle of white inscribed with countless sigils around the outer layer manifested in the air, and a burst of wind gathered around him and expanded outward in the blink of an eye, sending the steam retreating a few meters away. Slowly, the sigils began to dissipate away one by one, granting insight to the remaining duration on the Whirlwind spell.

  “Work with me on this, Raoul.” Krocko called out, retreating a few steps backward to get a running start. With his free hand, he disrobed his trench coat and broke out into a quick run. A short leap later followed, and he caught a hold of a protruding grip on the Conduit. He reached upward with his other hand and slowly began climbing. “Whirlwind will only be up for a few minutes, so during that time, I’ll need you to run around the room and use that sight of yours and relay to me which of the pipes are carrying the most Jati. You see it, don’t you? You’re glowing even brighter than before.”

  Raoul nodded. It was like a veil had been lifted from his eyes. Where he once saw the unending bumping and heard the rising whistle from the connected pipes, now from the cracks and crevices he noticed the almost transparent energy that leaked out like gas. “This must be Jati. I’ve never seen it before. It’s like air. Light, but it doesn’t quite have the same lack of cohesion.”

  As Krocko continued to climb, Raoul began snowballing forward. His vision guided him like a lantern in the darkness, and he quickly ran to the southern quadrant of the room to start. From there he narrowed his eyes and focused, scanning the pipes present in his vision. Out of the fourteen pipes in the room, six connected the Conduit to the south.

  For a normal person, it would’ve been difficult to distinguish the differences in the quantity of Jati. But Raoul was different. Years of staking it out in Destagt had allowed him to subconsciously note down the differences in his surroundings. It wasn’t just the buildings he was familiar with. Even the people, as homogenous as most of them dressed, all had their own quirks and traits evident in little adjustments to them that he learned to pick up.

  Four of the six pipes were fattening up. Their husks expanded far beyond what metal should’ve been capable of, and were leaking out residual Jati like a dam that had its floodgates opened. With one finger, he pointed to each of the four in quick succession. With his other hand he carved into the air the symbols of the Transmit Message cantrip and directed his gaze to Krocko, sending his words to his mind in a streamline telepathic line.

  “Look to me, Krocko. Find the pipe that’s shaped in the letter ‘U’, the one that strikes in a ninety-degree angle, the one that’s shaded in a deep blue, and the one closest to me. Those ones contain the most Jati.”

  “Good one!” Krocko shouted, turning in his direction. He wrenched a hand free from a grip and molded it into a finger gun and mimicked four shots. From the tip of his pointer finger, concentrated bursts of Jati, more dense than the mass that leaked from the pipes, shot out in small beams. All four shots made contact, leaving slight explosions that easily knocked out the pipes from their connections, severing each link in one fell swoop. “You’re good at describing too. Keep at it!”

  Rare was it that Raoul received praise, even from his mother. It felt good to his ears. He gave a curt nod of understanding and ran down, making his way to the eastern quadrant with little interruption from environmental hazards. He shot a quick look to the magical formation in stasis in the air. A quarter of the sigils had disappeared, meaning Whirlwind was a fourth to dissipating. Time was of the essence, and he knew this. He strained his eyes once more and eyed the pipes that hung above him.

  This time it was even quicker, having already experienced it firsthand a mere few seconds ago. His mind rushed to make a mental note of the irregularities in the pipes.

  He swiped at the air once more, casting the cantrip and directing his gaze to Krocko, who was already at the top of the Conduit, perched like a bird, and had a perfect all-seeing view of the inner radius of the room. “Turn left. This time it’s the one intersecting with two other pipes, and the other one is the largest by natural structure.”

  Krocko smiled, already preparing the Jati in his body and directing it to his fingers. He winked, shutting his eye for extra accuracy (and flair) as he mimed the act of firing a gun. “Bang. Bang.”

  Two more beams of Jati followed, hitting squarely on the directed targets with surprising accuracy. The force from both shots knocked the pipes cleanly from their hinges, sending them plummeting dozens of feet to the ground in distinct clatters. The Jati from within spilled out freely, filling the room and removing the strain from the Conduit halfway.

  “Good eye! Two more. Keep going, kid.”

  Raoul frowned. Something was odd. He hadn’t noticed it the first time due to the unexpected praise, but now it was evident. The Conduit, despite having had half of its source of Jati cut away cleanly, didn't seem to be improving in its look even slightly. On the contrary, it was burning even hotter, shifting from orange to an unsettling white.

  This isn’t right. If I’m to take the temperature of flames as a base, then it should’ve cooled to a warmer red. It’s tipping in the opposite direction and burning hotter. Raoul thought to himself, brows furrowing in suspicion. Despite the clear enthusiasm in his tone in seeing him succeed, Krocko’s eyes weren’t of joy, but rather patience. He was waiting for something to happen.

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  Raoul gritted his teeth. He didn’t have any strong evidence to support his theory, but he wasn’t going to ignore his gut feeling. He burst forward in a sprint, steps much heavier. He stopped just at the base of the Conduit and stared deep into Krocko’s eyes.

  “Whoa, kid. What are you doing? Get the third set of pipes, or we’ll burn!”

  “Is this a part of your test?” He replied, betrayal already souring his voice. “Is this you attempting to nurture me, to test my capability? You’re willing to let this Conduit burst beyond saving?”

  Krocko didn’t react for the first few seconds. It was like his brain was still registering Raoul’s words. A tense silence descended in the fiery core chamber. The two locked fierce stares, but it was mostly Raoul’s that reeked with suspicion and near-disgust.

  The man raised his arms in defeat and shrugged. He bent downward and sat cross-legged, completely comfortable despite the chaos ensuing around them. “You got me. I knew from the moment the Jati was slipping through the door from so far away that it was a lost cause.” He reached a hand out and mimed catching the slippery blue mass, unsurprisingly failing at it. “I led you in here and put up a hurried display of urgency so I could stifle that yearning of yours.”

  “With what?” Raoul replied, an expression of complete and utter detestation at the implication. “By making me believe I was doing good?”

  “That’s half of it. Driving isn’t only a matter of personal alignment. A huge part of it is your belief and the conviction you display in order to steer Rynth. This was my attempt at bringing it to life.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette. He snapped the fingers on his other, causing a small flame to ignite. The butt of the cigarette quickly caught fire. “Call it artificial, but it’s worked the many times I’ve used it on potentials.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” the boy let his gaze fall to the floor. To him, the very thought of looking at Krocko was growing increasingly more distasteful by the moment. “Now that I’ve figured out your plan, what do you intend to do? Did you even intend to at least mitigate the damage this Conduit exploding would’ve done to the factory?”

  “I’m a Driver, kid.” He breathed, a deep puff of smoke exiting his nostrils. “And I’ve told you already. I intentionally do things half-finished and up to standard enough so that I might be hired again. I took one look at the Conduit and knew it was past saving. Don’t worry, though. You’re still doing good.”

  “This was not the impression I was taught of Drivers,” Raoul shook his head. “If this is to be your test, then I think it’d be better if I were to leave. I won’t be complicit with this.”

  He turned to leave. But as he did, a distinct shatter rang through the air. Whirlwind had ended, and the steam was starting to flow back in, cutting off their vision of each other. He raised an arm to brace as the heat once more assaulted his skin.

  “You’ll regret this, Raoul. I don’t say this to many people, but you’re different. It’s been too long since I’ve seen a potential-Driver with as much talent as you’ve got. You’re observant, intellectually smart, and in line with perhaps the most number of Cycles I’ve ever seen.”

  “Forget it. It’s no good if I’m to throw away my conscience for this. If I’m to break free and create a life I truly want to live, then I won’t need this.”

  Krocko heaved a hefty sigh. “You’re making this difficult. But I don’t like quitters.” Despite being shrouded in the steam, his eyes directly pierced the exact direction Raoul was heading, and with one clench of his fist, the metal from the floor crunched. Slowly, they animated themselves, sticking to the one exit with a surprising degree of force. “There. Face your trials, Raoul. You’ve got a minute before this Conduit reaches terminal point and it explodes. I wasn’t lying about that part. If you really do nothing, we and everyone in Lupas Hendu will die.”

  From the shroud Raoul felt his way to where he remembered the entrance was. Where there was once an open walkway was now covered in a thin yet somehow durable wall of sheeted metal. He kicked at the reinforcement twice, but quickly relented as a bruise began to form from the contact.

  “You’re lying. You wouldn’t let it explode.”

  “Are you willing to take a chance on that future, though? I’m “of Exchange”, Raoul. Who’s to say I won’t just use my Driving to exit this factory an entire half-minute before it explodes? I’d watch the fireworks from an isolated crane.”

  Raoul gritted his teeth. He knew exactly what Krocko was doing. From the short time the two of them had spent together, he definitely understood that Raoul wasn’t the kind to leave and let go so easily. Nor would he be able to live with himself should the future come to pass and he survived.

  “You are a detestable human being.” With that, he rushed off in the opposite direction straight to the Conduit. The room whizzed in strained pain, the overloading Jati already proving to be too much to handle for not only the Conduit, but the entire chamber itself. The white on the middle-body was beginning to turn blue.

  “Good kid.” Krocko peered over the top of the Conduit’s precipice and nodded. “I’ll teach you how to Drive. First, you’ll have to get in the right mindset. Now I wouldn’t call a burning Conduit chamber an optimal location for your first meditation, but it’ll do.”

  He continued. “Press your palms to the Conduit. Imagine yourself. What defines the person known as “Raoul”? I want you to think on that.”

  He did as instructed and breathed, attempting to clear his mind.

  What defines me? He thought to himself. His mind moved to himself as he was currently—a puppet on the strings his mother had woven for him. A boy who didn’t have much autonomy beyond what was decided for him beforehand. The sleepless nights of forced studying. The physical and mental abuse at the slightest hint of lagging. The knowledge that until that current day he was going to be stuck fulfilling his mother’s wishes.

  No… That’s not me. I’ve played the part for so long that I’ve completely forgotten how I used to be.

  He reached out. In his mind rang an old grandfather clock. His fingers quickly seized both of the clock’s arms. He strained, and turned it back. Back to when things were different.

  Visions of a distant past played out like a projector on a screen. It sifted through the memories of his past like a reader through books on a shelf, eventually stopping at a memory that displayed his best.

  There were four of them. And that was the birth of their promise.