Finals were curiously stressful, even though I effectively was able to cheat as much as I wanted, thanks to Galatea. There was very little meaning to any test about recalling knowledge, not when I had direct access to the almost aggregate of human knowledge and while tests focused on understanding had some meaning, their contents were trimmed for mundane humans, not someone like me.

Even thinking that felt a little arrogant, but ever since I had been forced to incorporate the nanite-clusters and Galatea as their controlling intelligence into my body and especially into my brain and nervous system, I felt like something about me had changed. Where before, my Power had been a mostly unconscious process, as my subconscious was forming, possibly even testing, a hypothesis to solve a particular problem, now, joined with Galatea, that subconscious process had been subsumed into an elevated state of communion with Galatea. Within that state, my human mind faded into the background, forming a biological counterpart to Galatea’s algorithmic mind as we formed our hypothesis together.

Sophia had once asked me to describe how my mind worked in that state and I simply had no answer. It was akin to trying to describe the colour orange to a blind person, only that orange was not a colour, but a smell that you experienced using your sense of touch. There were no mental references, nothing that came even close to that state of epiphany, as my mind took in data and formed connections between data-points that I normally would not consider connected. Trends and patterns, forming a greater web that allowed me to gain insight into barely understood processes.

While fully sinking into that elevated state, in which I barely considered myself human any longer, left me weak and exhausted, especially when I spent too much time that way, I could slightly dip into it, leaving me mostly human, capable of acting as I normally would, but at the same time, the mental communion with Galatea was near perfect, allowing her to fully follow my train of thoughts, providing answers and computations as quickly as her processing allowed.

All that meant that any questions focused on understanding would have to be at the highest level, questions that were still professionally discussed, without a fully understood answer. Only those would be able to stump us, and those had no business being in a first-year exam, not even at a place like the Guild-University on Accord Island. Sure, everyone attending was some kind of genius, but even genius had limits.

That left questions focused on procedure as the only potential stumbling-block, questions where the lecturer insisted on a particular type of method to be applied, simply because the professional standard for engineers required that particular method to be used. Amusingly, those posed an actual threat, as it was easy for me to simply solve them, according to the best method within my mind, not with the method required, at least if I did not pay close attention. Luckily, those questions were relatively few and paying attention was not that much of a problem.

And yet, despite my confidence in taking the exam itself, the atmosphere of anxiety that suffused the whole campus, maybe even the whole island, that atmosphere got to me. Hearing people crying in the distance, as they tried to cope with the stress, people screaming when their nerves could not take it any more, it was not pleasant.

But while the atmosphere was unpleasant for me, for an empath like Nisha, it was hundreds, maybe thousands of times worse. Her ability was passive, something she could not turn off, meaning she was barely able to function, to the point that shortly before the exam, she had asked me if there was some place on the island away from people. Somewhere she could go to simply recharge her mental batteries, away from anything thinking.

Given that my friend was in pain, and also aware that I was Metis, I decided to lend a hand, asking Technica for advice. At the end of the day, when it came to either Powers or Accord Island, she was the expert.

That request for advice led to an invitation for Nisha and myself to visit her lair, surprising me a great deal. One thing I knew about Technica was that she, herself, had no working method to counter psychics, which empaths were a type of. She had some methods prepared by others, mainly Councillor Fyodor and Councillor Fey, the Russian Master-Psychic and the Australian Master-Mage. If it was me, having to rely on others for something as important as my mental defenses would be grating, giving me a feeling of vulnerability, not something I would ever voluntarily invite into my most private sanctum. But maybe that was part of the point, that her private sanctum was the best defended place she could access, giving her likely the best defense, if there was something nefarious going on, for example if I was being compelled to facilitate the meeting as part of some sort of conspiracy.

That said, if Nisha felt any sort of vigilance or caution from the invitation, she hid it deeply enough to make me incapable of detecting it, instead she happily went along with the idea to visit. The idea to get away from people must have been truly appealing to her, but given her frazzled look and exhausted state of mind, I could hardly blame her.

“How did you cope with exams before?” I asked, as we boarded the train towards the administrative area, under which Technica had her lair.

“It’s one thing to be in a room full of anxious people, or even in a school with a horde of anxious teenagers, there, you are only exposed during the day, for a few hours at a time. It’s a whole different story when you are on an island that is almost entirely inhabited by students, all of whom have their exams at roughly the same time. Whoever came up with that system, I want to punch them, really, really hard.” she explained, her one hand going to her nasal bone, putting pressure on it, probably to relieve a headache.

“Mhm, I see.” I nodded, sending Technica a message that we would arrive soon. If she was anything like myself, she would want to have as much control over the situation as possible. “That said, I only asked my Teacher for advice, I do not know what they have in mind, or if they even have a way to help you.” I added, getting a grateful nod in return.

“Eh, I take what I can get. If I had known that it would be this bad, I might even have skipped coming here in the first place. This is deeply unpleasant.” she replied, before going quiet. Accepting her apparent desire for silence, I did likewise and soon, we reached the much emptier administrative area. There were people here, but the student-density was likely the lowest on the whole island.

Without engaging with anyone, I guided Nisha into one of the administrative buildings and into a literal maze of hallways, purposely designed to be difficult to navigate and confusing, obfuscating where the entry to the lower levels actually was. It was not the only entrance I knew of, nor the one I preferably used, but it was the one Technica had told me to use this time, so I did. There was no visible security system on the door to the stairwell but I was well aware that anyone trying to enter by force would find themselves in serious trouble, as the security-system was designed to slam down heavy, steel shutters after the outer door was breached, sealing an intruder in the stairwell before rapidly replacing the air with a soporific. Even those immune to drugs would quickly find themselves out of air and there were few Powered both capable of breaking heavy steel shutters and surviving without oxygen.

“Incredible, I can’t feel anyone around here. Hell, I can’t even feel you, are you doing your psychic blank thing again?” she asked, after we descended the stairwell and walked through thoroughly unremarkable hallways.

Not wanting to give away anything about Technica’s defenses, not without knowing her will on the matter, I let out a non-conformational grunt and continued to lead her forwards, following the directions given by Technica.

Soon, Nisha and I arrived at an unremarkable door, one that might as well be installed at some janitor’s closet but it only looked unremarkable, as it was made from heavy steel, with solid bolts that could snap down into hidden sockets beneath and on the sides, sealing the door as solidly as most vaults. It was the visitor’s entrance to Technica’s office and with a nod, I guided Nisha inside.

There, we found ourselves not facing one Guild Counsellor, but two of them, as the robed figure of Fey was standing next to the desk behind which Technica was seated, in full battle-armour.

“Good afternoon. We’ve been expecting you.” Technica intoned, sounding very ominous, to the point that a slight shiver ran down my spine.