"What you can offer me?"
The words hung in the air, sharp and probing, as Taro stood with his hands on his hips, the faint hum of Satomi's lab still buzzing in his ears. The room around them was a maze of whirring machines and glowing screens, the metallic scent of heated circuits mingling with the sterile tang of dream-energy, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Satomi's eyes narrowed slightly, her professional lab coat hugging her curves as she leaned against a console, the pink strands of her hair catching the light.
"I've heard gossips and rumors about you, Taero," she began, her voice smooth but laced with curiosity, "about your notable latent abilities and feats, including that one-punch knockout of Brian that's got everyone talking. The way you turned the training yard to dust—impressive, to say the least."
Taro's face flushed, a mix of pride and embarrassment washing over him as he scratched the back of his neck, the weight of her gaze making his skin prickle. "I see.... so you already knew about that, huh, and my name," he muttered, his voice cracking slightly, the realization that his exploits had spread like wildfire across the nexus sinking in. The hum of the lab seemed to pulse louder in his ears, a reminder of the eyes now on him.
Satomi chuckled, a light, melodic sound that cut through the tension, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Ehe... yes, I guess gossip spreads even faster than wildfire in these halls. Word travels quick when someone like you shakes things up."
Taro, his interest piqued by her earlier hint, shifted his weight, his boots scuffing the polished floor as he pressed further. "I see... forgive my rudeness, you said you had something to offer for being in the squad—what was it? If you don't mind me asking." His tone carried a cautious edge, his mind racing with possibilities, the lab's cold lights casting harsh shadows across his face.
Satomi's demeanor shifted, her smile fading as she straightened, her expression turning serious, almost reverent. "Ah yes, Taro... as you already know, you are unique. An anomaly in the Dream World's weave. You have abilities and powers, a unique energy and capabilities—everything about you is fascinating, absurd, and somehow utterly alien to what we've mapped out in our studies." She paused, her hand stretching out slightly, fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and caution, the air around her seeming to thicken with unspoken potential. "Taro, if you join us, we can help you understand your powers, to control them, develop them to their fullest, and use them to strengthen the dream society as one of us. That's the benefit we offer—a chance to master what makes you different, to turn your anomaly into a weapon for us all."
Taro's face twisted, a wave of disgust and disdain crashing over him as he took a step back, the lab's sterile chill biting at his skin. "So you want to put me under a microscope, is that it?" His voice was low, edged with a bitterness that echoed off the metal walls, his hands balling into fists as memories of the Nertis' probing eyes flashed in his mind.
Drenor Satomi flinched, caught off guard, her hands rising in a defensive gesture, the glow of a nearby screen reflecting in her light dark eyes. "No, I would never try to—"
"Hey, no offense," Taro cut in, his voice hardening as he turned away, the disgust boiling over, "but I'm kinda allergic to the whole 'lab rat' vibe, and it's coming up way too strong here for my liking. I think I'm not interested." The words spilled out, raw and unfiltered, his boots stomping toward the exit as the lab's hum seemed to mock his unease.
"But I—" Satomi started, her voice faltering, a rare crack in her composure as she reached out, only to let her hand drop.
"That'll be all. I'm not joining this squad for sure," Taro declared, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, the fabric stretching tight as he stormed off, his shoulders hunched with defiance. The door loomed ahead, a promise of escape from the suffocating scrutiny. "Let's bounce, Miss Kazuishi."
Kazuishi, who had stood silent through the exchange, her presence a steady shadow against the lab's glow, moved forward with deliberate steps. She met the shocked Satomi first, bowing her head slightly, her glasses catching the light as she spoke in a measured tone. "We'll be on our way now, Drenor Satomi. Thanks for your hospitality and kindness for even allowing us here—your time's appreciated." Her words carried a formal weight, a rare softness beneath the surface.
"..." Satomi stood speechless, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the hum of her machines filling the void as the rejection stung, her eyes fixed on Taro's retreating back.
Kazuishi turned and walked away, her boots clicking against the floor as she followed Taro, the door hissing shut behind them.
**[Outside Satomi's Squad]**
Kazuishi and Taro walked side by side under the nexus's shifting light, the industrial clamor fading into a dull roar as they moved onto a dusty path. This time, Taro was quiet, his face stripped of the happy spark it had carried before meeting Satomi, his eyes fixed on the ground, the dirt scuffing under his boots with each heavy step. His hands remained buried in his pockets, the tension in his shoulders a silent scream. Kazuishi broke the silence, her tone surprisingly free of her usual mockery, carrying a blunt but genuine edge that cut through the stillness. "She... made some sense, you know. Her offer wasn't just about control—it was about harnessing what you've got."
"Whatever," Taro grunted, his voice thick with irritation, the word spitting out like venom as he kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering into the shadows. "I hate the entire 'control' stuff. First, it's the Nertis that I barely dodged, their cold hands poking at me like I'm a damn specimen, now it's a Drenor too—they all just wanna lock me up and research me as if I'm a rat. Disgusting." His chest heaved, the memory of those sterile rooms flashing behind his eyes, fueling his disdain.
Kazuishi, for once, didn't jab at him with a "scum" retort. Instead, she offered a rare, straightforward assessment, her glasses glinting as she glanced his way, the nexus's light dancing off the lenses. "Satomi's methods are effective. Her world is one of calculations and variables, a place where every move is measured. You... are a variable that breaks calculators, Taro. Something she can't predict or pin down with her charts and machines. That's why she wants you—it's a puzzle she can't solve."
"Tsk," Taro grunted again, the sound rough and guttural as he kicked another stone, the impact echoing faintly, but he didn't refute her, the truth of her words gnawing at him like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch. His mind churned, wrestling with the idea of being an anomaly, a freak even among Dremapols.
"The next squad is different," Kazuishi continued, her voice firm and steady, cutting through his thoughts like a lifeline. "Their Drenor, Tokkun, doesn't care about your origins or what makes you tick. He only cares about one simple, basic thing: results. What you can do, not what you are."
"Results? As in, like, performance results?" Taro asked, his interest flickering back to life, his head tilting slightly as he glanced at her, the dust swirling around his boots like a storm of his own making.
"Spot on," Kazuishi replied, a hint of approval in her nod, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. "Similar to the way Drenor Togu calls himself Fistman, there's another way to address Tokkun—'The Efficiency Specialist.' He's all about output, not backstory."
"Well then," Taro said, a grin creeping back onto his face, the weight lifting slightly as he straightened up, "this might be more interesting. Definitely better than the last squad I visited a while ago—Satomi's lab felt like a cage." His voice carried a spark of excitement, the promise of action tugging at him.
"Hmph," Kazuishi huffed, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes, the sound soft against the nexus's hum.
As Taro and Kazuishi approached their next stop, the nexus opened into a stark, featureless black dome, its surface swallowing the light around it like a hungry void, the air growing thick and still. No grand spars or shouts pierced the silence—just focused, quick-sparring Dremapols moving with terrifying economy of motion, their strikes precise, their breaths measured, wasting no energy as they danced through shadow-drenched drills. Taro scratched his head, a strange, tingling déjà vu washing over him, his fingers raking through his hair as he muttered, "Woah, I'm getting some seriously weird déjà vu from when I first fought Toei here. Man, if Toei had a squad, this would be it—clean, sharp, no bullshit. The way they move, it's like they're slicing the air itself."
"Let's get moving, Taro," Kazuishi said, starting to walk toward the dome's shadowed entrance, her voice pulling him from his reverie, the sound steady against the eerie quiet.
"Yeah," Taro replied, following her with a nod, his boots scuffing the ground, but before he could take another step, a figure materialized directly in front of his face—black-robed, sandals scraping the dirt with a soft hiss, a strange pure white mask with cryptic symbols covering everything but piercing red eyes, his presence cloaked in an inky, dream-woven shroud that seemed to ripple like liquid night. "Ahhhhhhhhhh!" Taro yelped, his heart leaping into his throat as the world tilted. He landed hard on the packed earth, the impact jarring up his spine.
"Welcome, Taro," the figure said, his voice calm but carrying an odd, watchful weight that pressed down like a physical force, his masked head tilting closer, the red eyes glowing faintly. "I've been expecting you—looking for a squad to join, am I right? I am Drenor Tokkun."
"Woah, you already know my name and reasons?" Taro stammered, scrambling to his feet and dusting off his butt with quick, embarrassed swipes, his heart still racing from the sudden appearance. "Guess Satomi was right about the 'gossip spreads faster than fire' thing—damn, this place is a rumor mill."
Drenor Tokkun straightened, his red eyes unblinking behind the mask, the symbols seeming to shift slightly as he spoke. "Sorry for startling you earlier. It's just that I've heard so much from Mexus, Kazuishi too—your name's been on the wind for a while now."
Taro's head whipped toward Kazuishi, catching her avoiding his gaze with a subtle turn of her head, and a sly, knowing smile crept onto his face as he thought to himself, "I see, so that's how it is... she's been singing my praises behind my back, hehe."The realization warmed him, a secret shared in the silence.
"Taro," Tokkun's voice snapped him back, the red eyes locking onto him with an eerie, almost predatory intensity that made his skin crawl.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh... um... sorry about that," Taro mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, the strange, almost scary aura of Tokkun throwing him off balance, the mask's symbols seeming to pulse with each word.
"If it's not too much of a bother," Tokkun continued, his tone measured and deliberate, the red aura around him flaring slightly as he stepped closer, "I myself would personally be interested in seeing the efficiency of your powers. How you perform is all that matters here."
Taro's grin widened, wide and eager, his blood pumping at the challenge. "So a spar, ay?" His voice carried a thrill, the promise of action igniting his spirit.
"Precisely," Tokkun replied, drawing his Reibone with a smooth, fluid motion, the blade glinting as a red aura enveloped him like a controlled inferno, the heat radiating in waves that distorted the air.
Taro drew his own Reibone, the green aura flaring around him like a wild storm, crackling with energy as he stretched his arms, his muscles flexing with anticipation. "Sure thing," he said, smiling broadly, his excitement bubbling over, the clash of auras lighting up the dome's dark interior. "Yeah, I like those words... especially when they're coming from a Drenor of all people. Let's see what you've got!"