Myelin swiveled around his seat, gauging the competition. "Alright! Everyone here looks like a bunch of chumps, we got an easy pass," he said, pulling his arms behind his head and exhaling all his tension.
Noor swirled her right arm in a circle, winding it up while holding her shoulder. "Ha! No problems for me that's for sure. Dambe, we better not lose ya on round one," she scoffed.
"I'll manage... I think," said Dambe, staring at his own hands as he opened and closed his lighter toned palms. "Anyone got any ideas of what this strength test is supposed to be?" His eyes darted between Myelin and Noor for an answer.
"A punching machine!" Arcti leaned into their table as he showed off his pearly whites reflecting his rainbow lit clothes. "Like a little arcade game to sort out what we're made out of." He jabbed the air a few times softly. He's not making it.
Headcouncilman Cain snapped his fingers and twirled them around with regal authority; following suit were crews of young men and women scuffling in. Each of their faces were worn, intimidating, scarred, and exhausted—they wore thick vests that might've squished a little if you pressed them hard enough, all the color of the orange-red dusty soil of Mars. They dragged in the machines, a rubber pouch was tied around a post hanging from its perch, a target was drawn on its front. Behind the perch on the machine's base, a blank digital scale flashed all four 0's. A few chuffs and eye rolls escaped the group. Not big fans of exam duty are they?
The group passed through the rows, eager kids stared with a look of wonder, like the rugged faces of the bastions were their future. The bastions didn't return any looks in exchange, instead hauling their loads with irritation in their stride. The machines' wheels squealed and squeaked as they rolled with the efficiency of a broken shopping cart. The young bastions pulled up to the front of the dining hall, posting the machine in front of the now shut down cafeteria line. Only thing being served now is a knuckle sandwich... eh, that one was too corny, I'll keep it to myself. Embarrassing, Myelin, c'mon we can do better than this.
There were about 6 punching machines, each painted an obnoxious pink. Two bastions stood next to every machine's sides. In every pair, a bastion was holding their hands in a position that would make one assume they're holding a digital clipboard, and another bastion would be tapping at the scales and tugging the punching bags.
The head councilman and the three mentors didn't budge, Myelin noticed, their eyes fixated on the machines that lay ahead. They were awaiting a special showcase of talent and promise. Myelin looked back at the pouches hanging from the machines. He could visualize his enemies in each one. Morado. BAM! Lunar Cops. BOOM! The guy who bumped into me earlier today. BANG!
A young bastion with an obviously stained graphic t-shirt under his vest and slightly sunburnt skin came up with unbothered nonchalance. He wagged his fingers into his palm with his arm pointed out to the crowd. "Up. We're doing this now, I'm not that patient," he said. He walked back to his station as the hordes of kids skid across the floor scrambling in line at each of the machines. I swear he looks familiar.
Myelin, Noor, and Dambe pushed themselves up out of their seats, staring as the lines filled up in a frenzy. Lizzy, Jace, and Arcti rushed straight into the bustling crowd of kids pushing over one another, Lizzy taking a quick turn to stick her tongue out at Noor.
"Look at 'em, so full of themselves but they've never put in the work," said Noor, rolling her eyes. "A real bastion is self made with blood, sweat, and tears—not granddaddy's money."
"Top 50 of 500, that's about a ten percent chance we get in though, I don't like those odds," said Dambe.
Myelin let out a pfft and raised his brow. "You can't just apply logic and odds to everything y'know. It's not a 10% chance, either you're strong enough to be in the 50 or you're not. The 'odds' mean absolutely nil here, Dambe," said Myelin.
"Yeah, that's a good point honestly," said Dambe, throwing practice punches in the air. "I gotta get the style on these punches right if I wanna impress everybody on the first day."
"You boys just watch, I got something real flashy planned out," said Noor with a smirk on her face.
"Let's get at it then," said Myelin, planting his hands onto the table and pushing off.
And so the trio strutted with confidence in their smirks, strength simmering in their arms, and suave in their strides.
As they approached the machines, a scoreboard appeared in the corner of Myelin's vision. With every punch the numbers would sit still as names squeezed their way in or got pushed down by the newer higher scores. Myelin tried to catch the names at the top but every few seconds new contenders would take each spot.
Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump.
With the amount of machines and the pacing of the lines, punches onto the rough rubber fabric arranged themselves into a hectic beat. Myelin hated the wait, keeping up with the list was impossible. Who was his competition, what was his goal score? Myelin felt a surge of tightness gripping his guts. Myelin couldn't understand why but he wanted to leave, everything about the room and the situation began to stress him.
The hectic beats got harder and faster as time went forward, the list spazzed more and more, Myelin could feel his breaths shallow out. What am I doing here? A sense of longing for the life he truly knew clouded his thoughts... could he bring back Aunty Laura and Atal if he thought about them hard enough and closed his eyes?
A poke on the crease of his back shocked Myelin back into reality.
"Freezing up again?" said Dambe, with a smile stretched across from ear to ear.
"Again? What're you on about, you think I'm a mirror?" said Myelin, faking his swagger back into his move.
"You were glued in place with that same look on your face when that damn Muzahrib showed up, I practically was too," said Dambe. "Don't play it cool Myelin, we're a team now."
Myelin relaxed the tension of stress tightening his neck with a deep exhale of air. "I've gotta ace every test they give me. It's gonna be a pain in the ass, I don't even know if I've got it in me."
Noor opened and closed her hand in the shape of a mouth and put on a mocking tone. "Either you're strong enough to be in the 50 or you're not," she said, "or were you just talking outta your butt right there?"
"Hey I'm not scared! I just don't... I don't know what I'm gonna do if I fail," said Myelin.
"So you're scared of failing?" said Dambe.
"I promised my brother I wouldn't run anymore, but ugh!" Myelin threw his hands up in the air. He kept his eyes on the flashing leaderboards, they were slowing down to the point where he could almost read the names. "Noor, Dambe I gotta ask, I don't care if you answered this before. Give me the best answer you got right now. Why do you wanna be a bastion?"
Noor crossed her arms and flexed her back straight to make herself as tall as possible. "To be the strongest."
"I said the best answer," said Myelin. "Give me a reason to do this whole bastion thing."
Dambe looked at Myelin with a pair of sympathetic eyes leaning forward as his head swung down. "I'm running from my past, I don't want to be the old me. This is a new frontier, a new chance to make a new Dambe."
Noor scrunched her face. "Why be the strongest? To bring respect to my family, to Mercurians, to me. I want this so bad, it's a hunger that drives me. My whole life I've been told I can't do any of this. You heard my grandma back home," Noor jerked her head to signal the line was moving up and that they needed to walk forward. "But my dad, he was the only one to tell me otherwise. He's gone, my brother's gone, nobody talks about my family anymore. The Orakzai were known across the solar system for our strength, for the strength held by the family heads across the ages. But with their deaths, everyone thinks we've been stamped out. I'll make sure they never forget us again!"
"And that leaves me. I'm doing this cause, well cause I'm being extorted out of saving my brother and I have an ancient demon conqueror haunting me," said Myelin.
"Y'know that surprised me the most about you freezing in that alleyway," said Dambe, "I thought you loved fighting."
"Yeah with the way you run that loud mouth of yours, you must be all talk no bite. But I don't think that's really true, is it?" said Noor. "You're trying to fight for your brother, but you're too scared without him. I get it... I really do." The pride on her face slowly faded into calm stillness.
Myelin reached back into his mind, ignoring the moving lines, the loud thumps, and the bustling scoreboard. In the alleyway... was I really scared without my brother? I ran all over the moon with him, but as soon as I faced any action here I froze. And Aunt Laura... oh man, I wish I could forget. Is that it? The instant I left my brother I saw someone die. What am I doing here, how can I call myself a bastion if I already failed like that...
Why don't you do it to make humanity pay? The thought growled in a lower, rougher tone from a part of Myelin's head that was even deeper than his own consciousness could reach.
Wha—make who pay what? Myelin you must be going crazy talkin' to yourself.
Everyone who made you suffer owes you a debt.
...huh?
...
I guess you're not wrong... well um, dark side of my head, how do you suppose you get rid of my fear of failure and freezing up?
Fight. Kill. Survive.
You're the mind demon!
You want to get over your fear? Starting acting like who we really are.
We? Before Myelin could continue the conversation with the mysterious presence within him, he felt a warm touch on his shoulder. Myelin turned his head around to see the hand of head councilman Cain holding him. His eyes somehow managed to express cold dead seriousness whilst also having a touch of empathy to them, as if he was a brutal man but only if need be.
And a brutal man indeed he looked. Cain was buff to the point that his suit could barely contain him. From afar Myelin only saw him as the typical frail old politician, yet up close Cain looked exactly the part of the hero of the solar system. He didn't just look strong, his whole presence felt strong.
"Long time no see, Mind Demon," said the councilman, his voice was softer compared to his speeches yet still clear and stern.
Myelin raised his brow, a bead of sweat dropped from the side of his head. It had been a confusing day for Myelin already, and this was not helping him whatsoever. "Are you talking to me?"
"No, no, no of course not, boy. I see the alien is cowering away as it once did last few hundred years."
Myelin searched his head for the growling voice from before. Hello? What ever happened to 'we,' buddy? Surely enough, the voice did not come back. "Wow, he's gone! He must really be scared of you. I owe ya, it was starting to get really grim in my head."
"I can see that, and it's not just the mind demon's influence either."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Myelin.
Councilman Cain put his other hand onto Myelin's opposite shoulder. Myelin couldn't help but remember the time Atal did the same. The last time he had ever talked to him, the time his brother told him to never run again and to have the power to fight. But I don't have the power, and I can't run... that's why I freeze dammit. I don't know any of this but I can't let myself run so I just sit still like an idiot! Myelin grimaced without control. He realized it was probably a confusing sight for Councilman Cain to see and quickly tried to play it off.
The old man had picked up on it clearly, leaning more onto the empathetic side of his gaze. "Myelin. We've been looking into your case, it's a tragedy that any of this could have happened to you."
Myelin felt a bit awkward stuck in his grip. "Tell me what you know about my brother then! Is he alive?"
"Hmph. I believe mentor Twine has mentioned this before. We cannot officially tell you anything until you are a bastion, my boy," he said.
Hearing that again got on Myelin's nerves. Useless, they're all so useless. He tensed his feet ready to walk out of the old man's grip, that was until he caught Cain's eyes again. Now his empathetic eyes came on with a look of fire and intensity ready to combust on the scene.
Everything surrounding the two of them gave way to a pink fog that smothered Myelin's vision. In this cloudy mist, there was only Myelin and the head councilman towering in front of him. But Cain's figure became almost indiscernible with a strong and solid orange glow. His energy wasn't even a surrounding or an outline of him, instead it merely was him shining in his own entirety. Lost in this new pink cloudy world, Myelin's only feelings of warmth in the void came from the orange.
Behind him was a more sinister and chill feeling. Myelin turned around to see the deep blue glow of the alien king's heart. Around the heart began the formings of the alien king's body out of its energy—the body was still weak and shriveled in form as in its death, but Myelin could feel its eerie energy creeping outwards of its body more and more. The demon of the mind was rebuilding himself inside of this new world.
Caught between these two overwhelming influences, Myelin couldn't move.
"Mister Cain... leave us," hummed the heart.
"Mind Demon, you're as putrid as ever," beckoned the headmaster.
"It's unfortunate I cannot take over this body, I'm itching to kill every human that stands in our way."
"What the hell do any of you want with me," growled Myelin.
"I want to offer you all of your hopes and dreams, Myelin. I have the power to crush every hurdle in our way," hummed the mind demon.
The headmaster was not phased by the alien king's bloodlust. "Myelin, I can't tell you about your brother. Rules are what separate us from him."
"Rules are separating us from our brother... yes," said the mind demon. "I'll give you a straightforward answer, human, you'll never succeed without me. Pass the reins of this body onto my soul."
"Like hell I will!" shouted Myelin.
"Is that why you freeze? Because you're so confident in your strength? Because you were powerful enough to beat that purple vermin?"
"So what, I let you go on a rampage in my body so I can see Atal?"
"Humanity deserves what's coming. You'll give up Myelin. Either today or any tomorrow. Save yourself the heartbreak, life will disappoint you. Do you need a reminder?" Flashes of the slaughter on Myelin's dream Mercurian home, blood dripping from Noor's brother's arm beneath the moon, and Aunt Laura's lifeless body all shot straight into his mind.
"Get out... get it out... get it... out," Myelin swung his head down and covered his eyes but he could still see, each panting breath his voice got weaker. He gripped onto his knees and slowly turned up to the floating formation of the alien king. "You'd do it all for me? You would find Atal?"
"Yes."
"Kill the Governor?"
"Yes," chuckled the glowing blue. An arm extended from this formation offering a handshake to Myelin. "Allow me to demonstrate. I'll start by killing the strongest human alive, the old man who stands for everything holding us back."
Myelin raised his hand but didn't meet. He peered over his shoulder to the strong orange behind him.
"Become a Bastion, pass this test, jump through all these hoops. What do I really need you for?" said Myelin. "I need to get to Atal."
"And get to him you will," said the headmaster, waving his hand into the pink clouds causing a rift. In that rift stood Noor and Dambe, still in the cafeteria with looks of concern frozen onto them with their raised eyebrows, dilated pupils, and the outstretched arm of Dambe.
"The rules, the processes, all of it. They're all things you'll have to go by on this longer and harder path, Myelin. But you'll never be alone. You can cheat your way with the mind demon, sure, but I must ask one thing." The headmaster grabbed both of Myelin's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "Do you love to fight?"
At first Myelin couldn't even process what had been said. He was tired, afraid, and confused. Love to fight? Myelin thought of freezing in the alleyway and right here at this moment. That's the one thing I wish I could change. If only I did fight. That's right, I am a fighter after all. Memories flooded in of Myelin enjoying scraps with mobbers back on Neo York, the thrill of it all, the satisfaction of standing on top of others.
"Do I love to fight? That's what I'm going to be a bastion for, to fight and fight and fight and make everything in my way pay," answered Myelin, "and I'll do it all myself."
The headmaster tilted his head. "That's an interesting answer, boy. I can't say I approve," he chuckled, "but go on then, make it happen." He let go of one hand on Myelin and gestured towards Dambe and Noor.
Myelin took one look back at the mind demon behind him. I'll follow all the rules. I don't like waiting but I won't ever let you take my life away from me. I won't let you take my friends either.
He walked across the field of pink clouds, smiled at the pair frozen in time and took Dambe's hand.