A verdant dream made corporeal,

A house of green, no walls to seal;

A prayer mat upon which I devote,

An orison that has no words, hits no note;

A wonderful death, a joyful demise,

An emerald abyss to which all life flies;

A selfless giver, an avaricious thief,

An arbiter of war, an advocate of peace.

I came upon a garden,

And the world went silent, seeming struck dumb;

I gazed upon a garden,

Verdure consecrated under the Sun;

I walked upon a garden,

Life and death, together in equal sum;

I wished upon a garden,

Thus, all the world became one.

Excerpt from “Musings of the Sun”

Musa woke up, looked around his bedroom and sighed. Late again. The room was large and spacious, walls painted a dark grey with various pictures of his friends and family hung on them. Clothes were strewn around the floor haphazardly, carpet barely visible under the piles of laundry. The small nightstand next to his king-sized bed had mostly empty boxes of what was once pizza and ramen noodles taking up all the free space on top.

Musa knew this was unsustainable but did not particularly care. He stood up, picking his way through the sea of fabric and pressed a button on the partition between the bedroom proper and his bathroom. One of the walls gradually grew transparent from the inside. Sunlight flooded in, perfusing his body and making the world a little less dull. It wasn’t enough to raise his spirits but he no longer just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep off the pain of regrowing his leg and ear. He was incredibly lucky he had bloomed before losing the parts, they’d have been permanent injuries if not for his newly upgraded body.

He went into his bathroom and started brushing his teeth, looking directly at himself in the full-length mirror. He admired his dark-skinned muscular physique, his long black hair, braided and tied back, his cute dimples in each cheek, and took pride in it all, but lately he couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm needed to give himself his morning pep talk. He tried anyway.

“You are the perfect man. You’re tall, funny, confident, handsome, rich and powerful. When you walk into a room, women swoon and men envy. You are the perfect man.”

The mantra was so familiar he could recite it in his sleep. But today, like all the others ever since he failed his friend, there was no conviction in his voice.

Three weeks ago, his best friend, the man he grew up with, his brother in all but blood was taken… somewhere. An alleged terrorist attack had claimed the lives of half his class and two of the staff members sent out to save them. Of course, that was just what the official press release said. Nothing about forcefully aged Drasils or strange roots wringing the elves dry. Not to mention everything going on behind the scenes. The assassinations. Mike getting targeted. How the elves even got on earth in the first place. It was almost too much to keep up with.

Jas popped his head into Musa’s room.

“Friend Musa! I believe I am owed some of your time this fine day. We have much experimentation ahead of us.”

Musa’s cheeks dimpled as he grinned, “Of course, Jas, lemme finish my morning routine. Then I’m all yours.”

Jas smiled back, “Wonderful, I shall call the uncouth one.”

“You know she’s going to be so pissed off when she realises you’ve been messing with her this whole time?”

“Yeah, I know, I just wasn’t expecting to have so much fun with this. Come down when you’re ready, I’ll leave you to your ablutions.”

As soon as Jas pulled his head back, Musa dropped his grin.

~~~~

The three walked along the corridors towards the training arena at an unhurried pace. Since the disastrous delve, those first-years that hadn’t gone home had been given the month off, so they had a week left to play around with Musa’s new powers.

The training arena was much like the multipurpose hall, in that it was made to withstand the chaotic energies the students could fling. It was off-limits to Seeds, but Musa could bring Jas and Birgitte in as his guests to watch other Sprouts duelling it out or to practise in private, as they had been doing for the past few weeks. They reserved a private room and all shuffled in.

“Okay, what have we learned so far?”

“We’ve learned that your powers are fucking bullshit.”

Musa grinned, “Envy isn’t a good look on you, Brig.”

“Brig? When did this become a thing?”

“We have determined that you seem to be able to reach back in time and pull out graft-chimeras that disappeared ages gone. Impossible, according to conventional Concept theory, but here we are.”

“Wait guys when did I get a nickname?”

“Don’t forget the spirits.”

“Patience, friend. We have also surmised you can summon past cultigens, the scions of the graft-chimeras you acquire, and they can give you a form of limited precognition in combat.”

“Hopefully not enough of it that the Prophet decides to off me.” Musa chuckled darkly.

Birgitte and Jas shared a look. Musa noticed they’d become a lot closer since the ordeal.

“Quite so. Anyway, shall we commence?”

Jas walked over to a control panel next to the door. The room as it currently was, was small and simple, a grey concrete cube. As Jas fiddled with the controls however, this changed.

The walls swirled and shifted, undulating to some unseen rhythm. The space gradually expanded, and automatons slowly emerged through the floor.

Birgitte had now joined Jas by the door and a transparent partition had sprung up, protecting them from whatever wild energies his power might summon. Musa nodded towards Jas and he pressed a button. Seven of the humanoid, metal automatons started running towards him. Jas pressed another button and terrain popped out of the ground. Hills, slopes, rails, pipes, all that and more came up through the ground, obscuring Musa’s line of sight on the enemy.

Musa flared his Concept, a short, wiry looking man appearing to his eyes alone. The man handed him a gleaming six-chambered revolver, fully loaded, and stepped back, freezing in place. Of course there are six bullets. Of course. Because why make it convenient?

He started running towards the action, the heavy footsteps of the tough-looking robots giving their positions away. He peeked around the corner of a pillar and saw one, attempting to sneak and doing a surprisingly good job of it. It wasn’t enough to hide from Musa’s razor-sharp senses though.

He shot the revolver at the automaton, a small ball of light sinking into its chest. A kaleidoscope of colours and shapes rippled outwards from the projectile’s entry point, quickly covering the construct. It shattered into pieces like glass.

“Bravo!” Jas and Birgitte clapped, entranced by the strange weapon’s effect.

Musa rapidly dispatched two more in much the same way, the pieces of glasslike substance they shattered into gradually turning into a wispy, multicoloured smoke and dissipating.

This was his element. He ran, ducked, slid and jumped all over the course, feeling out the limits of his new body, a genuine smile threatening to break out on his face. He didn’t even need his battle sense; he was too fast for the robots. He slowly corralled them into a dead end against the wall and executed the other three. Having run out of bullets, he turned to the last construct.

“Any last words?”

The robot stayed silent and simply ran at him.

“Ugh, mindless minions these days, no manners at all.”

He waited for Mike’s response, the two could banter about stuff like this for days on end, laughing the whole while. Then he remembered and his mouth set into a grim line. Musa jumped forward, locking his legs around the automaton’s neck and punching through the metal at the top of its head. He grabbed whatever he could feel and ripped it out, throwing the mass of wires and cables behind him as he jumped off. The construct stood for a moment and seemingly glitched out, its head spinning in circles before it collapsed.

His newfound power was intoxicating. Or, it would be, if Musa didn’t know for a fact that it wasn’t enough. I need more.

“Jas! Raise the difficulty!”

His Highness gave a thumbs up and twisted a knob. The setting changed, no longer looking like an urban playground, rather aping a cave system with stalagmites jutting upwards and boulders dotted around here and there.

Musa imbued his gun with Remembrance and the ammo refilled. I can’t do this too many times. Imbuing my weapons is powerful but costly.

He didn’t see what kind of constructs emerged from the ground but he could hear a chittering, scratching noise. He snuck around, hoping to gather intel when he stepped on a silky, almost translucent thread. Dammit I hate spiders.

As he stepped on the near-invisible thread, a dozen hyena-sized spiders skittered out from behind cover and started swarming towards him. This would have spelled the end for Musa of old. However, he’d changed.

He ran straight for the swarm, shooting himself a way forward past their vicious mandibles and swiping claws. He had no choice but to reload again when he was through the ambush, turning around and rapidly dispatching the rest of them. The light tinkle of the glassy substance was the only sound left in the room. This still isn’t enough.

“Jas! Difficulty!”

Musa could make out a bit of a worried expression on his friends’ faces, but Jas turned the dial regardless.

The scene changed again, from the “cave system” to an abandoned factory looking area, the concrete melding into the shapes of heavy machinery and conveyor belts. Musa quite liked the aesthetic.

Another automaton emerged from the ground, but he didn’t have to look around for it as it towered over everything else in the room. It looked like a damn dinosaur. Two tree trunk thick legs supported a wide, powerful torso and contrary to his expectations, it had two long arms that were plenty big enough to crush him. Its head was huge and was filled with long, wicked looking teeth. This is more like it.

The metallic monster roared, a jarring, grating dissonance attacking their ears. He tried to run forward but the sound had a disorienting quality and he could only stumble around. Musa looked back at Jas and Birgitte, worried. Birgitte was unconscious on the floor, ears bleeding and Jas was crawling towards the door. The dinosaur started stomping its way over to them, the easiest prey in the room.

“Hey! Your quarrel is with me, you overgrown chicken!”

The juvenile insult seemed to work, or maybe it could just sense the intent of the message, because it turned and started running with booming steps towards Musa.

He dumped three slugs in its chest, bullets sinking in and rippling outwards in colour. But the dinosaur did something unexpected. It jettisoned its chest plate. The mass of wires and sparking lights within its chest was visible for only a second before it bent down and ate some of the “machinery”. It didn’t seem to care that it was all made of concrete, as the hole on its chest began slowly filling up, as if it were a cup filling with water. Hmm. I may have miscalculated.

Musa quickly started a barrage of bullets, no longer caring about the cost in Sunlight. Nothing helped however, as anywhere the balls hit was instantly discarded and replaced. He tried another tack, running towards the dinosaur itself and pushing Sunlight into his Sprout.

Jump. Duck. Up.

The wiry man’s nasally voice directed him, as the massive monster stomped the ground heavily, making it rumble. Musa jumped over the disturbance, the vibrations passing under him, then hit the ground and instantly ducked, avoiding the thick tail that came in for a wide sweep. He stood back up and jumped on the tail, climbing up the monster’s back. This feels familiar.

He was halfway up its back when its head exploded, completely disintegrated when he was only metres away. He was blown off the silvery beast, landing among the debris the dino had left while regenerating itself, kicking up concrete dust. He lay there for a minute, confused, until a shape materialised out of the haze. A tall, pretty, blonde woman? She was holding what looked like a wand and reaching out for him, presumably to help him up. He grabbed her hand, got to his feet and stared, bemused.

“Hey, sorry about the whole blowing you up thing, I didn’t see you on its back. This Seed came crawling into the hallway bleeding from his ears so I thought they’d snuck in and bitten off more than they could chew.”

Musa saw Jas, now standing under his own power, picking Birgitte up off the floor and bringing her into the Sunlight in the hallway.

Satisfied his friends were fine, he turned on the charm.

“It’s no problem. Like my father used to say ‘When climbing robo-dinos, always watch for explosions.’ I think I should’ve listened.”

She laughed, “Well this is just to be expected then, isn’t it? This is why you should listen to your elders, young cultigen.”

“What can I say? I live dangerously.” He smirked, cheeks dimpling in amusement.

She held out a hand, looking him directly in the eyes. “I’m Freja.”

He responded, grasping her hand and holding her gaze. “Musa.”

She stepped closer, “You seem cool, Musa.”

“You’re not too dull yourself, Freja.”

There was an unspoken challenge in the air between them as they locked eyes, until Freja smirked and walked off.

“I’ll see you around, Musa.”

“You certainly hope so.”

She laughed again as she walked out of the door.

As soon as she was out of sight, Musa dropped his grin.