Eventually, the only sounds were of my breathing, and the increasing hum of the engines. We were slowly going faster and faster, quickly approaching the speed of light.

Going faster than light had always been a barrier to humanity. It had been thought of as an impossibility, once. And admittedly, it would have been impossible before Moonfall. Going faster than light with just a physical contraption is a fool’s dream. Sure, you can come infinitely close to it, but never would you be able to go past.

Though, there were also the time and relativity issues that would come from going so fast. Interstellar travel would be a bit of a bummer if everyone you knew managed to kick the bucket while you were cruising along.

However, the solution to this age-old issue came with Moonfall and the mana it introduced to us. At the time, we had no idea how to harness it though, and it took the intervention of the First Deity to get the ball rolling, where he gave us the plans for a concept engine using mana as it’s energy source and propellant. It was the first magical engine we had, and used a complex array of mana circles etched into it’s box-like structure to convert ambient mana into a ‘bubble’ excluding a ship from space and time, thereby allowing it to shatter that light speed barrier. It’s like a small, portable wormhole generator, where the wormhole is only around our ships.

However, to activate the mana engine, you have to already be going nearly light speed. Hence why we’re slowly approaching that with our sub-light engines.

It’ll still be a while before the mana engines are engaged though, so I relaxed. Plenty of time to check out whatever Godard gave me.

Reaching over to where I had propped the cloth-wrapped bundle up against the bed, I pulled it over and began hurriedly undoing the ties holding the cover shut.

Seeing what it was, I made a soft little “oh!” exclamation.

This is a master-worked sword. No doubt about that. Even without seeing the blade itself, it radiated a feeling of power, and…rightness. Grabbing the hilt, it felt like the sword was made for my hands.

It wasn’t a very fancy looking sword though. There was no ornamentation anywhere on it, no fancy baubles or tassels. It was just a sword, nothing more, nothing less. I unsheathed it, and marveled at the blade itself. That too seemed like nothing special, beyond the obvious fact that it was well made. To anyone else, that’s all the sword would be—a weapon with pretty good quality, but nothing else, really.

But to me, it felt like an old friend come home. It’s unexplainable, but I get the feeling that this sword, is mine. Intrinsically, and completely. Unlike the bone katana I left at my apartment, or the various knives I always have, which are not mine. If that makes any sense….

It barely does to me.

Slowly sliding a finger along the blade’s length, I admire it some more before sheathing it back in the scabbard and laying it across my knees while in a meditative posture.

I’ve decided. This blade is worth nurturing, unlike everything else.

And just as the sub-light engines brought the ship to that critical juncture, and the mana engines engaged, my meditation started. And holy fucking mother of a bitch, that shit was painful.

I let out another groan of agony as concentrated mana passed through me again. It came in waves, slowly withering away at my defenses and my will. It was quite pleasant when the mana engines first engaged, the waves of mana feeling like a rough massage. Unfortunately, experiencing the same thing over a longer period of time begins to wear you down quite fast. It’s been…ten hours? Twelve? I’ve lost track, my entire being focused simply on resisting, guiding, and growing.

As the waves hit, I guide them through my body, sending the overflow through my muscles and nerves while taking the rest of it into my well of power.

Everyone has an area in their body where mana naturally gathers. This area has lots of different names as well, with some calling it the dantian, others calling it the chakra, or the mana pool, or their mirror, etc, etc. I call it my well, and it rests in my mind.

It’s a curious thing, since it takes up no space, nor does it effect my physical body with its location. I can send mana into it for refining, and I can draw mana out, but it’s rooted in place somewhere in my head. It’s a mystical place that was only dreamed about by martial artists of old.

Only a small amount of the mana washing over me could be sent to my well—It could only handle so much inflow, after all. Exceeding the rate at which it can handle incoming mana is a dangerous process, and can leave people crippled, their mana flow forever gimped. However, with practice and repetition, more mana can be taken in, and the amount can be increased. That takes time though, and isn’t something which should be rushed.

Which brings me to my next thought.

I’m an idiot, a fool, and in great pain.

See, while the wave of natural mana passing over me are painful now, and make me numb all over as it seeps into my bones, I didn’t have to take any into my well. I could have left it alone, and focused simply on resisting all that mana.

But no. I just had to invite a trickle of it in. And it entered peaceably enough, sliding down into my well without protest and easily integrating itself among the pool of mana resting at it’s bottom. That mana which I took in was very manageable. The issue came from the fact that I then couldn’t stop. The lid to my well, which was lifted slightly to allow mana to trickle in, wouldn’t close again.

I cursed very loudly upon realizing my mistake. The pressure of external mana was forcing the lid to stay open. In fact, it wanted to open it all the way, and inundate my body with mana. That would be rather bad and explody though, so I concentrated on keeping that lid from opening any further, while quickly refining and purifying the mana inside my well to make room for more.

The situation is manageable, I tell myself. Even though I can’t help but take in mana, I can handle that. Even though my body feels like it’s now being hammered by the ocean again and again, I can push though it. And even though it takes every effort of my will to remain, and keep myself together, it couldn’t compare to the pain I’d suffered as a child. Since that couldn’t shatter me, nothing can.

Well, of course, I tell myself that, but suffering long-standing agony is somewhat different from enduring a short term one. And I was in for one hell of a time.

Soon, sweat dotted my entire body, and all my muscles ached like a hot iron had been placed inside my bones. My well was slowly filling up, and it wouldn’t be able to contain all my mana in a few days.

So, obviously I have to strive to get better.

Grunting softly, I started trying to compress my mana so that it would take up less space. That way, my well would be able to handle the influx of new mana and any subsequent growth. Hopefully. It’s not something which can be done under normal circumstances, but this isn’t exactly a normal situation, and the pressure building up around my body helped condense the mana resting in my well. Slowly but surely.

And so I suffered, slowly breaking my body to keep myself together.

But, when stuff like this happens, fractures can led some things back in. Things that you had wanted to forget.

“Mama! Mama! Look at me! I can make sparkly too!” Called out a small child in a white sundress. She held her hands out in front of her, a naked flame dancing in her palms. There was a small shriek as the girl’s mother saw the flame, and rushed over.

“Don’t do that!” Said the mother, slapping the child’s hands away. The flame disappeared like a mirage in the desert. “Honestly, I’d hope you’d know better by now. Remember the last time you got hurt?”

“But I’m all better now, Mama!”

“Oh sweetie, it’s not you I’m worried about. The Jacobson boy hasn’t been the same since he met you.”

“But he chased me with a froggie!”

The mother looked at her daughter worriedly.

“What did you even do to him?”

“I only showed him what it’s like to be a froggie~!” Said the girl innocently, and completely without guile.

Later that night, the girl knelt down by a doorway, light faintly leaking out it’s cracks. Voices wafted out towards her, and she listened without moving an inch.

“I just don’t know what to do with her! She’s getting to be too much—the last person who upset her still keeps crying every time he sees a frog! What sort of person can do these things before even Awakening?!”

“Calm down, just take a deep breath, my dear. Revy is obviously very special. I would be very surprised if she doesn’t amount to anything.”

“But with another child on the way, I’m scared, Klein. What if she starts hurting her siblings? What would stop her from it?”

“Then try and teach Revy. I know you can do it. You’re a genius, far better suited to matters like this than I.”

“But I…”

“Tell me you can’t do it. Tell me it’ll be too cruel, too hard for a child like Revy. Adrianne, Revy has so much potential. But with that comes responsibility—both from her, and from us. She needs to be taught what’s right from wrong, and we have to do that. That’s our job. If we have to be monsters to keep her from becoming one, then so be it. That’s a trade I’m willing to take.”

“Oh Klein…”

The girl, shaking, silently ran from the doorway. She could understand her parent’s words, and that things were going to change for her very soon, even if she didn’t know how. She also understood that her parents were hurting because of her, but didn’t know how to fix things.

A few days later, her mother lead her to a series of rooms under their home. The girl was uneasy, because her mother didn’t seem normal. She was…cold. There was no warmth in her face as she looked at the girl, no love. There was only something like pity, and maybe a little guilt, buried deep, deep down.

“Mama, what’s going on?” Asked the little girl.

“Nothing, sweetie. Just do as I say, and everything will be alright.”

The girl was led into a metal lined room with only a small chair in the center, not unlike that which dentists would use. She was brought over to it, and strapped into place.

“Mama, I’m scared—what’s going on?”

“Something that will benefit you. It’s for your own good.”

And that was the last time the girl thought of anything with innocence. That was the point where she grew up.

“How is she doing?” Asked a resercher, watching the little body strapped into it’s little chair. Occasionally, it would jerk, or tears would start streaming out the corners of her eyes. Other than that, there was no noise, and it would seem like nothing significant was happening—if it weren’t for the large machine coiling wires around the girl’s head, that is.

“It’s hard to say.” Answered the head of research—and the subject’s mother. “We won’t know if the memory transference was a success until the process is complete. Even more, nobody has tried copying more than two memory sets at the same time, and she’s taking in five. We won’t know what sort of effect this will have on her until she wakes up.”

“She will be fine, right?”

“For certain. There might be some issues at first with personality growth, and maybe something else, but that will easily be sorted out. She’s young still, unlike most of the other test subjects. Her psyche isn’t developed, so the process should hold well.”

“Remind me again, which sets we are giving her?”

“What else but the four aces?” There was a sharp intake of breath from the researcher.

“But…all four of them…Won’t that just make her a killing machine?”

“No, that’s what the fifth is for. To balance the other four, and give her humanity. If a veritable saint can’t do that, then nothing will. And, at the least, it will give her some patience.”

The researcher shivered, knowing full well that whatever walks out of that room, it won’t be the little girl they sent in any more.

“Oh, and don’t forget, we’re sending her straight over to the Awakening chamber after she wakes up.”

The head researcher called back over her shoulder as she was leaving. The girl still sat in her chair, tears rolling silently.

“Ma’am! She’s regaining consciousness!” Called out a voice.

Daniel—no, Raphael…wait, Revy, that’s right, her name was Revy—Revy opened her eyes. Looked around.

Five people in the room. Two armed. Piece of cake to kill them all and….

And what? Killing is wrong. But why?

No, she must be calm. Even as the bloodlust descends and envelops her whole. Relax, find the core. All will be right—until that woman walked in and red flooded her sight.

NO! Calm! I am Revy, I am Revy, she repeated to herself over and over, like a mantra flowing from a broken dolls mouth, forever able to repeat only a string of words.

And as she looked up at her mother, she didn’t realize how empty, how dull her eyes looked. Calm, be one with the world, she thought, and so it happened.

“M-ma’am? Are you sure…she’s okay?” Asked a researcher, seeing the broken-eyed gaze from the little girl, like she was staring at something only she could see.

“It doesn’t matter. She will sort herself out later. First, prepare the Awakening chamber.”

“But ma’am, she doesn’t look like she’s quite…”

“Be quiet!” Yelled the woman, her voice cracking a little. “There’s nothing we can do right now but move forward…”

The girl was brought to a different room, and left in the center. This time, there was no chair. She wouldn’t be there for that long.

Revy looked around, wondering what was about to happen. Memories supplied the answer—she would get power here. This was where it started, all of it.

More memories flooded her mind, memories of people having gone through rooms like this before, and what they took away from it.

A man with horns curving across his brow, skin red as blood, laughing as magic of the greatest caliber incinerated his foes and those that would see him slain, another man whose scaly body deflected careless blows as he retaliated in kind, elegant sweeps of his own swords drinking of his opponent’s life blood.

A woman, limber and graceful, relying on her titan-like strength to decimate legions of lesser soldiers with a sword white as bone, and leaves, branches, and vines grew from her body to entangle those out of reach.

Another man, sneaking across an open ground and using bone spurs grown out of his body to quietly kill all that crossed his path.

And then, a final woman, old and wise, slowly seeming to melt into the mountain behind her as eons passed and she became more and more tranquil, knowing that her peace only came as a result of strength and ability.

Revy saw all these lives as if they were her own, and saw the results of this ‘Awakening’, and the power it gave her—wait, those people. I am Revy, not anyone else, said the girl to herself.

This will be good for me, she thought. She would be able to rely on herself after this, instead of powerlessly submitting to those she would have trusted.

But wait, a part of her whispered. Isn’t this Awakening thing also within her power?

The pieces of her which were formerly pieces of others were impressed with this thought. That was the original Revy which spoke that, wasn’t it? The arrogant and absurd thought that something like the Awakening could be controlled. But not stupid, she argued. Why couldn’t it be?

And as raw mana flooded the room in amounts that normal Awakening ceremonies wouldn’t see happen, she thought. Even as that mana circled her, pressed against her, flooded her, she wondered.

‘How interesting…’ said a voice not her own, nor from any memory of hers.

I don’t want to be powerless ever again, thought Revy. And so she took those abilities naturally her own and build atop them. She crafted herself during her Awakening, into only what she wants to be.

I am Revy, I am Revy, I am Revy, she chanted, careful not to lose herself in her other selves.

I am Revy, I am Revy. She wanted power. The ability to protect and hide herself.

I am Revy. She wanted to get away.

And so, as her right eye burned away and a voice spoke of payment to her, she didn’t just Awaken, but also Ascended right then and there.

I am Revy, and I am Odin, master of all, and more importantly, of myself.