Magnus walked out of his mother's hospital room and silently closed the door after himself. As he did that, he peeked through the slit that was getting smaller and smaller, as he slowly dragged the door along.

He gazed upon his mother who was resting now, she looked so peaceful as she did, with no pained expression on her face, thanks to the two legs she lost. 'Would she be resting easy if she knew what happened,' Magnus thought. Then he sighed in defeat, as that thought played in his mind, 'it is best to leave her to rest. I could deal with my own troubles.'

With that final musing, the door slammed closed, with it slammed shut any more thoughts of confessing up as well.

“Codex, order me a cab, would you?” Magnus said to Codex as he trudged along feeling glum and moody.

“Sure, one cab coming right up,” Codex said, not added any of her usual pleasantry or spunk to her speech since she could sense the awful dejection radiating off of him.

With that, they walked along in silence, not saying a single word to each other as they did.

Eventually, they made it back to the recipient hallway, and Mrs. Robinsan waved at Magnus goodbye from her chair, behind the counter. Magnus half-heartedly waved back at her as he walked out of the hospital and into the hovering cab waiting for him.

"Where would you like to get to, sir?" The basic AI asked Magnus politely in its robotic voice, once he entered the cab.

“To Clade Bar,” was Magnus only reply to the AI in the cab.

“You are going out to drink?” Codex asked in a bit of an angry voice.

“Yes, yes,” Magnus said in a tone that told that he did not care about her opinion, “I need to drink away my guilt and anger.”

“Where would that place be, sir,” The basic AI asked, and Magnus noticed that they were still rooted in the parking lane. “I am sorry sir, but it seems like I cannot seem to find this place in my database.”

“See! Even this idiotic and pathetic AI knows that place is a dump.” Codex shouted, but Magnus ignored her and said to the AI, “The address is 33 Starelan Lane, and would you mind playing something sad and somber. That is the only type of music I deserve.”

“Oh, boy!” Codex said once she saw how Magnus was being like, so she decided to just let things run its course. It is not like they could get worse.

Or could it?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We are here sir,” the automated cab driver said, as it came to a stop on a dimly lit and bottom-dwelling bar. A few homeless vagabonds littered the place, as they wheeling around or carrying, carts and bags among the trash and filth lining the old and unused gravel street.

“Ack!” Codex said as Magnus stepped out of the cab, which immediately drove off up, up and away like it was trying to run away from all the destitution.

“Man, that AI got the message loud and clear.” Codex then added with a snicker.

“Would you stop that,” Magnus said, as he walked up to the bar’s wooden door. “This place used to be my grandpa, so I n-..”

“Then your mother sold it for pennies because she knew that it was a dump.” Codex said as if she was helping Magnus by finishing off his sentence.

“Ahh!” Magnus said as he clicked his tongue with the root of his mouth in irritation. “I hate when you do that, it is very annoying and rude.”

“Ohh!” codex said as if she was looking at something cute, “Do you hate it when I tell the truth?”

“No, I hate it when you always interrupt me mid-sentence,” Magnus said as he walked up to the bar with a neon sign which had written on it, Clade Bar. 'Man,' Magnus thought, 'you either have to be so egotistical or downright proud of your name to have it named business.'

Magnus shook his head as he opened the door of the bar and walked in. 'Well whichever one it was, my grandpapa had a badass and unusual name. Anyways what the hell were his parents thinking when they named him that.'

Codex tried to reply and said “Yea, you just got t-...” but she was toned out by Magnus as he took in the sight of the bar. Hard looking man and women, that experienced the gut-wrenching pain of life sat or stood around the place. They played, chatted, or just drank their hard liquor beverages.

Magnus gaze turned over to the counter as a voice came from it and addressed him, “Oh-hoho if it isn’t sunny boy, as I live and breath.”

Everyone in the bar turned to look at Magnus, once the voice signed him out. Magnus just stood there under the silent gaze of all the occupants as their stare felt like it was racked all over him.

“Oh, come on up here,” the speaker said, as she waved him over. Magnus instantly did as he was told and walked up to the counter.

“Well, would you all stop staring at us,” the woman shouted at the crowd. Then her voice got low and menacing, but it was still at a pitch loud enough to be heard by every ear, “Or is there something you have to say to my face?” At that question, everyone quickly got back to what they were doing without missing a beat.

The woman turned back to face Magnus, who was now sitting at the chair across the counter. She was in her early sixties but she that young spark of life in her, she had dark red hair with a few grey hairs coming in. She stood at 1.75 meters tall, with a well-built body, and a few tattoos. Her eyes were black like a coming storm, hard and harsh. Her skin tone was a light beige tan, and she had a few piercings, one on her left and right ear, another on her bottom lips.

“It has been a long time! Hasn’t it, sunny boy?” The red-haired women said as she poured Magnus a cup of liquor.

“Yes, yes, it has been a few years now, Aunt Avril, but you know how it is with school and all.” Magnus replied as he took a swig of the offered drink.

Aunt Avril looked at Magnus with her eyebrows raised, “You know I am old enough to be your grandma, huh?”

Before Magnus could say anything a man who swollen eye, a broken lip, a haggard expression, and a slightly tipsy look broke into their conversation. “Hehe, you know little Magnus she means that in more than one way?!”

“Bret,” Aunt Avril growled out as her hands dangerously clenched the cup her hands near to breaking point, “Do I have to kick you out once again?”

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. Avril,” an African man said, he was very tall and well built. He was standing at 2.1 meters and bald. His ringed fingers grabbed the collar of Bret jacket, and he easily hauled him up from his chair. “I am already on it!”

“Hey, hey,” Bret shouted as he squirmed around like a little child in the tall man’s grasp. “I have been a regular here ever since little Magnus grandfather opened this place. How could you treat a loyal customer like this?!”

“Anthony,” Aunt Avril said to her employee, “you could let him go, but it would be for just this once,” she added as she looked at Bret threatened.

Anthony nodded his head at Avril direction, and dropped Bret to the floor like you would a pesky little animal. Bret complained under his breath as he collected himself and got up from the floor, but he did not dare to say what he held in his mind to the half-giant of a man.

Anthony just ignored Bret and walked away, before he did, he nodded at Magnus silently, and Magnus raised his cup to him, as the African man went back to his work, behind the bar, serving drinks.

“Avril,” somebody shouted in the large mess hall, “ignore Bret and his antics.”

“Yeah!” somebody else shouted, “come get us some of the good stuff.”

“I am starving for some BEER!” another person said, and everyone laughed at it.

Bret got back to his seat, right next to Magnus, and made himself comfy. Avril gave him one final look, to which Bret said, "Okay! You are the boss here, and I promise I will behave.”

Avril snorted, not trusting a single word that left the degenerate of a man, mouth. With a shake of her head, she looked back at her old friend's grandson and said to him. “Well it is a busy night, today so I will talk to you later. How does that sound sunny boy?”

“Fine by me,” Magnus said, as he waved at her to ease her concerns. “If you want I could help as well. I do know the trade, after all, learned it all from grandpapa,” Magnus then added.

“You don’t worry about it,” Avril said, “Anthony and I got it all under control. You just have your drink and relax, I can see that you need it.”

“Fine,” Magnus said as he raised his hands up in defeat and surrender. God knows that I need some time to unravel, he mused.

With Magnus conceding, Avril got back to her work, serving drinks and snacks.

Once Avril was out of earshot, Bret immediately craned his neck around the place, looking for any people that were listening in, then he scouted over to Magnus once he felt safe. “Well, little Magnus, how have you been these days?”

Magnus looked at Bret with his eyebrows raised and asked him, “Didn’t you promise Aunt Avril that you would behave yourself?”

Bret looked at Magnus like he was offended and asked him incredulity, “All I am doing here, little Magnus, is just talking, nothing more, nothing less. The woman can’t deny me that!”

Manus just chuckled lightly at Bret response and said, “I think when she told you to behave, she also meant, shut your mouth.” he paused as he took a swig of his drink, then continued on, “It is the one thing, your mouth, that gets you into the most trouble.”

Bret scowled at Magnus retort, then he glumly said, “You have always been a know it all brat, you know Magnus?”

Magnus laughed quietly at Bret response, “Look, Bret, I have nothing against you doing what you want, but don’t look at me when Anthony ruffs you up. Or god forbid when Aunt Avril comes to you with her fists out.”

At that final remark about Avril, Bret shuttered just thinking about it. “Well, I hate not telling you about it, but you are right I do not want to anger that woman.”

“Okay let me stop you right there,” Magnus said as he turned to face Bret fully in the face, “I already know about this gossip you want to talk about, you rumor mongrel.”

“You do?” Bret asked shocked.

“Yes, I do, my grandpapa and Aunt Avril were an item, dah!” Magnus said, “Anyways I do not know why you are making it a big deal, my grandma was long dead, so it is not like the man had to grieve for her forever.”

Bret just looked at Magnus for a long while, after a bit, he shook his head, more to himself than Magnus, as he took a swig from the flask he held in his hands and said. “Like I said, kid, you have always been a know it all.” then he sighed as he took another swig from his metal flask, “You can’t even let an old man like me get the enjoyment of reveling a big secret.”

Magnus smiled at Bret retort, he slapped the man lightly on the back and said to him in a cheery tone. “Stop acting like it is the end of the world, Bret. I am sure that you have some of your conspiracy theories in the woodwork, somewhere, so why don’t you tell me about those.”

Bret looked up from his flask, and then turned to face Magnus, hopefully. “You would really listen to what I have confirmed?”

Magnus could tell that Bret was putting up an act for laughs and giggles, but he played along with the man. “Yeah, I will listen to your crap, so lay it on me.”

“Hey!” Bret shouted as he placed both of his hands on his heart with a wounded look, “These articles are confirmed fact, I tell you!”

Magnus raised both of his hands in silently surrender at Bret comedic outburst.

“Good,” he said once he saw that Magnus was complying along, “Well I heard from a friend, who heard from his cousin, and she heard from a girlfriend, who heard fro-..”

“Just get to your point,” Magnus said as he interpreted Bret. I know it is just you who is making this stuff up, or you read about it in some shady website.

“Fine, as I was saying before you rudely interrupted me mid-sentence. Somebody asked, why is all the gifted people some rich or famous person?” Bret paused, to let that question sink in, and Magnus was going to answer by saying the obvious, which is; they are gifted, therefore they are rich or famous.

But Bret held up his hand, to stop Magnus from saying what he already knew he wanted to say. “I want you to think about what I just said, little Magnus, really think about it. Use your brilliant mind of yours! When the new era came rolling in, people awakening gifts were truly random, you couldn’t know if your neighbor would awaken a gift or if some family member would. Rember the first generation of gifted people, they were truly diverse; tall, short, skinny, fat, white, black, poor, rich, old, young.”

At Bret rambling Magnus slowly nodded his head, as he took a sip of his drink, the man was honestly making a case here.

“But look at today, the second generation of gifted people, who are they? They are all kids who have a rich father or a famous mama.”

Magnus held out his hand for Bret to stop, and asked, “So let me get this straight, you are saying the upper class has control over the awakening of gifts? They can pick and choose who awakens gifts?”

“Yes,” Bret shouted as he nodded his head, happily, and there was no more of that jolly manner on Bret's face. The man, had his game face on, these are the sorts of things he lives for, gossiping and talking about conspiracy theories. “I knew that you would get it, little Magnus.”

Magnus looked at the man, he knew that he should just leave things as they are, but he couldn’t help himself from poking at Bret’s little theory. It was in his nature to be pessimistic, sarcastic, and honest. His dad always used to say, you can’t get anywhere without damn honestly.

“I was wondering Bret, how do these upper crust go about controlling all the gifts,” Magnus asked in a polite and courteous tone, but deep inside he was just waiting for Bret to jump into the cesspool he dig himself.

“Well,” Bret said as he rubbed at his chin, trying to exhibit a wise look, but he was truly in contemplation. Then he added, very slowly, “That is a good question,” Magnus could tell right away, from that response, that he had no answer.

Seeing that the moment was perfectly right to notch him over the ledge, Magnus said, “Well I was thinking, maybe they have some magical tomes, that lets them awaken their gifts, or blessed by mother earth.”

Bret could tell when somebody was teasing him and his theories, he snorted at Magnus playful retort and said to him. “It is your lose boy, not mine, if you do not believe me.”

Magnus laughed, “I will give it to you Bret, this is one of your best theories that you made so far, I would give it a 7.5/10.”

“What,” Bret shouted, “A 7.5, what kind of score is that?”

“Oh, come on,” Magnus said as he rolled his eyes at Bret outburst, “Did you even listen to the other theories that you sprouted?”

Before the two men could carry on with their conversation, three men entered the bar, and their entrance was as loud and blustery as it could be, thus every soul in the bar turned to see who they were.

Once Magnus turned around to look at these people, his eyes immediately widened in shock… and a hint of cold anger.

Bret noticed the look on Magnus' face, and asked him, “Do you know those guys, little Magnus.”

“Yes!” Magnus growled as he clenched the cup in his hand subconsciously near to breaking point. “I know those fuckers really well. How could I ever forget their faces, when they are the bastards that had a hand in revoking my Mech license.”

Bret looked at Magnus in two parts shock, and one part anger, “You had your license revoked? No, Whaaat?! These fuckers got your Mech license revoked.”

Magnus inclined his head Bret’s question, and said, “Yeah, but the question is what is this rich prick ass doing here, in a bottom-dwelling bar.” And even as Magnus spoke to Bret, all of his attention was one person, the ring leader of his suffering and pain, Michael Sawyer. “I remember the fucker very well, back at the University, he would always be rubbing any ‘stain’ as he would like to call it, with his handkerchief.”

"Well, isn't it obvious to you," Bret said as he took a slow swig from his flask, "The bitch is here for you."