As I continue my walk along the shore, I squint into the glare of the sun, low in the clouds, casting a golden haze in all directions. Seagulls creen from their perches atop a rocky outcrop framing the ocean to my right, while the shore stretches on endlessly to the left.

I take off my dress shoes with a contented sigh, leaving them by the grassy embankment bordering the path. I next roll up my trousers and deposit my military jacket on the ground, forgiving myself for soiling its perfectly-pressed, spotlessly-black surface.

Getting the jacket blown up is far worse than getting it dusty, right?

The sand is light tan and covered in all kinds of shells. Menocht is situated on a much rockier bay, bereft of the soft grains now squeezing between my toes. Menocht does have plenty of similar shells, but they’re usually buried tens of feet under water.

I try not to think of Dorel Lemon or the Life Death oath as I walk along the shore, instead choosing to bask in the dying light and the cool ocean breeze. There’s nothing else I need to do today, I tell myself. Unlike the past few loop layers, I feel like this one will go on for a more extended duration. Perhaps not as long as the school layer, but it should persist at least a week or so, until I figure out how to deal with the threat at hand.

I’m admittedly at a loss for how to proceed. I’m not the most social type, which is, of course, one source of Mother’s lamentations. Sure, she’s taught me all the knowledge necessary to fit into aristocratic society, and I can fake my way through most things sufficiently, but I never developed the finesse required to wield charisma to worthwhile effect. My actions speak pretty clearly in that regard, considering the years stuck in the Menocht bloodbath.

“It’s your own fault I’m so indecisive, Mother,” I state wistfully, lips curling into a smile. Her deciding everything for me as a child couldn’t be considered helpful.

“Who?” a voice says, oddly...synthetic.

I whip my head around. I don’t sense any vital signatures nearby.

“I’m here, er, sorry, sir. Here, on your waist.”

My head snaps down. What?!

“Are you...okay? It’s just me.”

I remove the scabbard from my waist and hold it up, inspecting the sheath. A Pardus panther logo stretches across its length, claws long and threatening, body sinuous and muscled.

I have a glosSword? Really? Is that what the Godoran military spends its money on? I’ve never seen one in person, the weapon rare outside of Ho’ostar and Sere, though I’ve heard that it’s powerful. I recall reading about how its ban in Shattradan has been a sore point during the annual Fassari Summit, with Godora and Brin in particular protesting the allowance of similar energy weapons developed in the East.

“What’s your model number?” I ask.

“You don’t need to talk aloud,” the sword responds.

How is it even responding?

“Just keep the scabbard close at hand. That’s how I’m responding to you, by the way.”

It’s responding mentally? But it sounds just like someone’s voice.

“You have the voice emulation module active,” the sword adds. “It makes for a more natural dialogue.”

Huh. “So...what exactly do you do?” I ask, intrigued by the seemingly-intelligent blade.

“I am model number 300x, specializing in amplification.”

I slowly draw the sword from its sheath. I note that the blade has an identical image of a panther across its length, and that its blue translucent surface seems to absorb, rather than reflect, sunlight, blending in disconcertingly with the open sky. I don’t know exactly what type of sword it is, but it seems to be of medium length, symmetrical with two sharp edges on either side, and with a wickedly-sharp tip. Just caressing it is enough to draw blood.

“Are there any practice grounds nearby?” I ask the sword. “The more private, the better.”

“The closest is currently occupied by 23 individuals, with no other practice grounds within a 10 mile radius.”

I raise an eyebrow, then look around the beachfront.

My decemancy seems to be accepted here, otherwise I wouldn’t be an officer, nor would I possess an expensive asset like the glosSword. It should be fine to do a little...experimentation, shouldn’t it?

I step toward the rhythmic lapping of the tide, firm wet sand crunching beneath my toes. When I reach the water, my foot finds purchase on its surface. Well, it perhaps looks like that, but I’m actually just levitating myself. It’s fun to think of it as walking on water, though.

By the time I’m 50 feet or so from the shore, I’ve channeled a good deal of power into the sword. Now instead of a matte sky blue, its surface is clouded by a dark nebula interspersed with violet specks of light.

“Yes, I do look quite badass, thank you,” the sword states.

I glare at the shining blade. “I didn’t think anything close to that.”

“I’m almost charged,” the sword announces, practically cutting off my response. Then, about fifteen seconds later: “The next spell will be overcharged!”

“How do I use you?” I ask, unsure of how to actually use the charged energy to amplify my own casting.

“Use me like you would any other focus,” it instructs. “And yes, I know that seems very simple! But you’re in good hands with a model 300x like me!”

I begin to collect bones and shells around me, and am surprised to find that I’m able to reach much further than usual.

“Your range is tripled by the amplification effect,” the sword volunteers, answering my question.

Next, I try bringing all the collected pieces together into a white mosaic above the water. It’s not any easier to do so, nor is my control better, but I find the amount of energy required is less than usual.

“Approximately 40% of energy cost recouped!” the sword announces.

As I return the bones and shells to their original locations, I assess the utility of the device. Honestly, it's not bad. I’m not exactly desperate for greater range, nor am I ever in danger of depleting my energy stores...but it’s nice to be more powerful than usual. It’s overkill, but I’ve gone far past overkill at this point with my decemancy alone. I’ll take all the power I can get.

“What else can you do?” I wonder out loud, turning the sword in my hand. “Why are you so damned sharp if you’re just a focus, anyway?”

“Ah, good question! As a glosSword model 300x, my added feature is amplification; however, I still come standard with all base model glosSword features as well.” The sword pauses for a second before continuing: “I see you’re also unfamiliar with those features! Not to worry, a demonstration is in order. Hold me in your hands.”

I adjust my grip to hold the sword with both hands, rather than just one.

“Like this?”

“Your hands are the wrong way,” the sword replies. “The left should be behind the right for proper activation.”

What kind of dumb programming is this? I grumbled to myself.

“The ordering of your hands is important to form the proper energy circuit. If you were left handed, you’d have been issued a different sword entirely.”

Fine. “Now what?” I ask, my hands finally in the right position.

“Now just use me like you would any other sword!”

Great advice, considering I have no idea how to use any sword at all.

“Ah, if you aren’t a swordsman, even though your profile says you are; you can turn on one of eight auto modes.”

Y’jeni, I’ll just take the sword as an amplifier at this point. “What eight modes?” I sigh. “Is there some kind of instruction booklet I can read?”

“GlosSwords are highly regulated confidential weapons of intermediate destruction capabilities, and as such, any information available to the public is either basic or incorrect. That’s why you have me, your weapon guidance system!”

“The eight modes,” I repeat, swirling some shells idly around myself. “What are they?”

“First: standby detector mode, alerting you to any new people within your vicinity.

“Second: discrete mode, disassembling to look like armor or jewelry, while recording the surroundings from a minimum of 3 vantage points.

“Third: flight mode–one of our most popular!–creating a pair of energy wings on your back with your energy.

“Fourth: auto-attack mode, using some of your charged energy to automatically attack detected hostiles at 20% of the user’s ability. Requires more frequent charging.”

Oh, I think to myself. 20% of my ability...

“Fifth: aegis mode, using some of your charged energy to automatically defend you against attacks, using up to 100% of all stored energy to negate attacks. Requires more frequent charging.

“Sixth: sniper mode, like auto-attack mode but with a much larger range and requiring more energy. I will generally ask for permission before putting down targets to avoid unintentional friendly fire. Often used with a supplementary energy pack.

“Seventh: defender mode, using some of your energy to defend a person or group of persons nearby, using up to 100% of all stored energy to negate attacks. Requires more frequent charging.

“Finally, eighth: companion mode. Uses 50% of your energy to manifest an energy companion that acts independently of yourself, to be used with a soul gem. Energy amplification amount diminished based on distance of companion from user.

“So, what do you think?” the sword asks, seemingly proud of itself, if an inanimate object can be proud. It must’ve sensed my disbelief at the eighth mode. I can feel my heart hammering with anticipation.

“The eighth mode can use a soul gem?”

“Yes.”

“Can it use...multiple soul gems?” I ask.

“It can use up to seven soul gems: two eye sockets, a heart socket, a liver socket, and three other sockets of your choice. The only mandatory option is the heart socket, with a minimum grade soul gem of high-grade. Auxiliary sockets can be filled by mid-grade gems. Up to 10 additional soul gems can be added with a battery pack extension.”

I pause, tilting my head. I have a general sense of what soul gems are considered good, versus bad, but I don’t have an accurate way to classify them by grade without a reference. I give the sword a moment to provide any relevant information, but it remains silent. I suppose it isn’t an encyclopedia.

Instead, I take out my glossY and trawl through the distributed network for information on soul gem grades. I select the first source, a soul gem supplier I recognize even though I’m from the northern continent of Shattradan: Thakka Imperial Soul Gem Co., situated in the southern Adrilli Isles.

Soul gems are classified based on homogeneity and size. The most expensive soul gems generally come from a single powerful entity; these are homogenous (as they come from one creature), large (as they come from a powerful source), and are easier to market. It’s also more glamorous to buy an Elder Dragon soul gem than a million-beetle soul gem, even if the latter is technically homogenous and large.

Thakka’s page indicates that each soul gem must be individually appraised to ascertain its quality, however, due to the importance of a decimancer’s respective animancy skill. But if even a low-grade gem goes for ဢ4,500...and a high grade for ဢ25,000...

Due to the glosSword amplifying my range, I can sense the presence of numerous aquatic creatures around me, most of them fish. I have a feeling that, despite the non-homogeneity of the individual fish, I’ll be able to make a soul gem sufficient enough to create a glosSword companion.

I spread my arms wide, killing fish within my sensory range, then slowly bring my arms together; as I do so, I concentrate the Death energy into a deep violet soul gem, taking care to make the energy as uniform as possible for a clean crystallization process. In twenty minutes, after carefully distilling and re-distilling the energy, the gem is complete.

I turn to the glosSword hovering gently next to me and ask, “Is this soul gem sufficient to create a companion?”

“Scanning...soul gem of peak-high grade detected. Would you like to proceed in activating companion mode?”

I nod.

“Commencing mode eight!” the sword declares, its form soon engulfed in black radiance. “Companion forming around gem...please wait. Please wait. Please wait.”

I’m waiting...

“Please wait...please wait...”

It’s been ten minutes at this point, and I’m impatiently tapping my foot on the water. Or would it be more accurate to say splashing?

“Please wait. Please wait...”

I scowl. It would be bearable if it didn’t say “please wait” every 10 seconds. Seriously, who programmed this thing?

“Companion complete!” the sword suddenly announces, releasing a final flash of inky brilliance. I squint into the harsh light, unable to see anything but the glow of my soulstone within. As the light fades, I see the soulstone’s violet pulse like a heartbeat through a network of nearly-transparent, blue, square plates.

“It’s a fish,” I observe, deadpanning. “Am I stuck with a fish?”

“My soul gem is made of fish souls, so I am a fish companion?”

“Is that a question?” I reply, confused. “Can you become something else?”

“Do you? Have a vitality template?”

Curious, I decide to give the spectral fish a small sliver of my own vitality.

“Error – human vitality detected!”

Fine then, I murmur under my breath. “How about this?” I say, offering the fish the vitality of a seagull just plucked from the sky.

“Vitality signature accepted...transitioning...transitioning.”

Not this again...

Two minutes later, the fish explodes in a shower of black sparks; in its place is a seagull made of similar blue plates with my soul gem at its center. It looks almost like a paper construct, like an angular origami bird.

“So, what can you do?” I ask.

“I can do?”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Just...never mind.” The companion probably just needs time to develop, I assure myself. At this point, the sun is low over the water, indicating that it’s about time I return to the shore and collect my belongings.

The bird perches on my shoulder, its three-pronged feet digging in with surprising strength. I guess we’ll see what you can do, I smile. 50% of my power is nothing to balk at.

—

A week has passed, and I have nothing to show for it. I’ve mostly spent my days playing with Bluebird while waiting for the SPU ambassadors to arrive. There have been no new attacks, and the military base has functioned fine without my interference.

The ambassadors are slated to arrive any minute, hopefully breaking the monotony of the past few days. Maybe they’ll have interesting intelligence to relay about the Godoran beach attacks; who knows?

My intuition, however, says that asking the SPU for anything is a waste of time.

I sense the ambassadors’ arrival before anyone comes to alert me, the glosSword amplification feature proving its utility. The two ambassadors are coming by way of an armored hovergloss, escorted by six guards. It takes them a near eternity to arrive, their bulky hovergloss barely exceeding the minimum speed limit for the transit line. Seriously, what do they have on that thing to make it so heavy?

Bluebird, can you do a bit of investigating? I ask, giving the construct a soft pat on the wing. Do a search for weapons.

Bluebird darts off my shoulder in a flash, disappearing through the open window of my office. It only takes a minute for the bird to return, its violet eyes glinting in the midday light. At this point, I’ve outfitted Bluebird with seven soul gems, filling each of the spots with a peak-high soul gem: two for the eyes, one for the heart, one for the liver, one for each wing, and one for the tail. I found that with each soul gem, Bluebird’s power increased by about 7%, compounding. So, 50% of my power with the first gem, multiplied by 1.07^6, is nearly 75% of my power. The number is, in practice, slightly less, but I have a feeling that with a battery pack addition, as well as with prismatic soul gems, I’ll be able to get Bluebird’s power nearly to 100%.

I wonder if the people watching this loop are terrified at the implications. I would be, if I were them: One of me is more than enough to deal with, not to mention a version of me that looks like a paper seagull.

No artillery, but eight bombs, Bluebird reports. At these locations. Bluebird relays to me a rough map of the hovergloss, along with pinpoint locations of the bombs stationed within it.

It’s impossible not to notice that the bombs are in very bizarre locations, such as in the air ducts and in the waste tank. Not the kind of places you’d place bombs you yourself were planning to take and use. Moreover, it’s hard to believe the SPU didn’t hide their own bombs better; Bluebird is just using the basic glosSword detection features.

I think it’s more likely the bombs were added just after the hovergloss’ takeoff. But what are the bombs replacing? The passengers must have noticed the hovergloss traveling slower than usual.

One of the fuel tanks was empty, Bluebird adds. That’s probably why the speed has taken a hit.

Oh. So it wasn’t the bombs slowing it down. What happened to make them lose half a tank?

I shrug. “Well, I guess we should do something about the situation. Maybe they can shine some light on what happened.” I stretch my neck and shoulders, then stand up. “I’ll go greet our guests myself.”