《Soul 1/2 (A progression fantasy, Academy story)》SCAR
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Re-appearing in his dorm room, Altair found himself disappointed to have his magical training cut short despite the exhaustion making itself known. He would have an entire day to kill before being able to return to continue his impromptu apprenticeship. The time was now a little past eight a.m., and he considered recharging his batteries with some much-needed sleep, but the excitement from discovering the world of mana kept propelling him forward to do something useful.
It seems like there is an approximately twelve-hour difference with the other world, he figured. The first thing he did was to check his newly activated mana core, and to his utter dismay, he sensed that the red particles that had been circling in harmony were now escaping outside in disarray and disappearing abruptly soon after leaving his body. Even the ones that were densely condensed inside his singular crimson mana channel were now being sucked away by an invisible force, and his newly gained ability to exert control over the particles didn't do a thing to stop it or even slow down.
Dammit, seems like Jo'Anne was right. At this rate, whenever I return to my world, I may be able to use magic for a couple of seconds at the most, if that.
He had been secretly harboring the hope of using his newfound powers as a secret weapon during the upcoming attacks that he was bound to suffer at the hands of his fellow Baignard students, which he suspected were as certain to arrive as night following day.
Alt grabbed his phone, frowning at the crack on the edges of the screen that had begun to expand. His disappointment was replaced with delight after finding the name of a particular girl with long dark-brown hair blinking on a notification, who to his chagrin or perhaps masochistic enjoyment kept playing with his emotions.
"Are you up?" the message read. He noticed it was had been sent in the middle of the night.
I wonder if something happened to her...
He thought about replying with a joke about whether that had been a booty call invitation, but in a blessed moment of clarity decided against it, afraid for his physical integrity the next time they met.
"What's up, are you okay?" he texted her back, changing his attire into casual shorts and a gray t-shirt after hiding the martial artist Gi the witch had bestowed him in the back of his closet, away from prying eyes.
Sattan would probably assume I am cosplaying or something.
Alt grabbed a quick breakfast and headed outside, resolved to go check on his friend, as the glasses boy still hadn't appeared online ever since being admitted to the medical facility two days earlier.
He headed northeast, reaching the first wing in just a few minutes, with the three story-building being visible even from the window of his apartment, after passing through a field reserved for long-range target practice. Nobody was coming in or out, and the automatic doors would not react to his approach, nor could he see any activity inside because of the reflective film covering them.
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Are there no visitor 's hours during the break? he pondered. But somebody must be around to take care of the patients, even if there is just a couple of them around.
After standing a few minutes cluelessly in front of the entrance with surveillance cameras locking in on him, Altair found an inconspicuous door ringer to press.
Not receiving any feedback, he started eyeing the windows, looking for any alternative options to make his way in. Finally, before he could undertake any illicit activities, the glass doors budged, and a tired-looking Dr. Raisa appeared from the front.
"You again... what did I tell you about coming here again so soon?" she said, with poorly disguised irritation.
"I just want to check on my friend... to be honest, I am feeling a bit guilty about how he ended up here... I regret not doing more."
The woman in the white coat let out a small chuckle at that comment.
"You've done enough."
Alt shrugged his shoulders, smiling disarmingly.
"Listen, it's really not a good time... we are undergoing some, eh, renovations, and I am really busy," she said, preparing to turn around.
"I just want to apologize to him. I will be in and out, I promise," Alt insisted.
The older woman sized him up and finally ushered him in.
"Alright, I can respect that. You got five minutes. After that, I don't want to hear any excuses."
"Thank you," he said, giving a slight bow, expecting to follow her inside, only to find her blocking the way.
"We will take another route, as I said, we are having some work done on the interior," she vaguely announced.
Alt didn't argue and followed her into the courtyard. He expected the premises to be virtually deserted since the school year hadn't started yet, but he could see through one partially covered blind on otherwise cryptic windows various silhouettes of what appeared to be senior citizens, with tons of wires sticking out from them.
I wonder what these people are doing here... they look way too old to even be the students’ parents. Is the Academy leasing this space to some sort of retirement home?
He dismissed the ridiculous idea and was about to ask Dr. Raisa for more information, when two towering figures emerged from the back door that they had been heading towards. The two uniformed men, wearing a military all-black attire with a red armband began walking in their direction with a mechanical symmetry characterizing their every step. As their paths intersected, Altair couldn't help but tremble at the depiction of the twin-headed eagle on the coat of arms plastered across their headgear. That symbol had been engraved deep in the memory of his people, ever since battalions of shock troopers from the invading forces ravaged his homeland. His eyes got stuck on the insignia on their armlet, composed by a bolt-like letter S that sent shivers down his spine. Both men gave him a passing look that felt like they had scanned them to his bones, quickly dismissing him as somebody not worthy of their attention, before giving a cold nod to the doctor in acknowledgement.
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Alt could swear the outside temperature lowered, with his throat drying up.
Aren't these SCAR agents? What the hell are they doing in a place like this anyways? SCAR stood for State Civil Accountability Review, a purposefully vague and relatively non-threatening name hiding an organization that in its practical functions approached those of a secret police force.
The teen boy started to regret already not heeding to Dr. Raisa's earlier warning about staying away. The older woman acted like nothing extraordinary had just transpired but didn't give him any opportunity to engage her in conversation either. By the time they finally arrived at the inpatient chamber where Sattan was recovering, Alt's mind had begun to fall into the conspiracy rabbit hole. After all, a lot about this school didn't add up at first glance, such as its massive facilities, clearly over-the-top for a student population that even with the teachers and supporting staff didn't reach a thousand.
I am getting paranoid again. Must be some random government inspection or something.
The ward they entered was divided into several smaller units which appeared to be empty, with their beds made and the patient privacy curtains left open.
Either those fools already got discharged or they are in a different wing, Alt concluded, thinking about Kamar and his battered buddies that also needed medical attention.
"I will come back soon. Don't go anywhere until I return," Dr. Raisa said, after leaving the two boys alone.
"Hey Alt, good to see you!" Sattan called, beaming up at the sight of the unexpected visitors.
"Hey man... how are you doing?" Alt stopped by the heavier boy's bedside, relieved to see him in good spirits. Other than a black eye that had almost completely faded away, he looked as good as new, if one ignored his messy head and growing facial hair.
"I am still kicking! Only woke up yesterday evening, you know. It seems that the doctor gave me some strong sedatives, but at least by the time I stopped feeling all groggy my armor didn't hurt much anymore," he said, patting his belly.
"I am really glad to hear that... I was getting worried, with you not answering your messages."
"Oh yeah, they confiscated my phone for some reason. I am supposed to get it back when they discharge me... It's been really boring being all alone here."
"I can imagine," Alt acknowledged sympathetically. "Are you still planning to go back home?"
"Yes, Dr. Raisa told me that my parents rescheduled my flight for tomorrow. Not sure if I will have time to pack properly if they don't release me soon, but it's no biggie."
"I can throw your clothes in a suitcase if that helps," Alt offered. "Just tell me if you need anything."
"Thanks man, I appreciate it. Also, thanks for stepping in when you did... It must have been scary, I know they have it out for you too. I would be a goner if not for you."
Alt awkwardly accepted the gratitude, a part of him wanting to come clean to Sattan about having consciously ignored his pleas for help until it was too much to bear. He decided against it, instead firming his resolve to never cower in fear again.
Easier said than done... but if I want to really become a hero, I have to keep trying.
Fortunately, before they could delve into the incident any further, Dr. Raisa returned, interrupting their conversation.
"Time's up. You can see each other tomorrow anyways," she told them. After they exchanged a handshake, Dr. Raisa escorted him out of the building, using the same way they came from. Alt found it a bit strange that she would accompany him personally from and to the door rather than assigning an intern to such a task but didn't press the matter. He was just grateful that those uniformed men were nowhere in sight.
After finding himself outside, he hurried to put some distance between himself and the iffy medical facility. Only after passing the neighboring administrative offices, he allowed himself to check the phone, hoping to see a response from Ronel.
"Never mind," a short text appeared, crushing all his hopes.
What the hell, that's it? he thought, bewildered, reading it again to see if he was missing anything. She had been so friendly just yesterday, especially after the moment they shared in the train car on the way back from the shopping trip.
Something must have happened.
Slightly dejected, Alt considered his options for the rest of the day. Going to the library to study in advance of the school year was too disgusting of a thought even for a seasoned nerd like him. He wondered how else he could spend his time. He considered exercising, but since the results with his puny physique were usually negligible anyways and he would need all the energy he could keep for his next training session with the witch, he decided against it. Finally, he settled on continuing working on his attempts to sense mana, in the hopes that the experience would offer him insight on how to keep it from vanishing uselessly in this world.
But what element should I use?
There was no fire available in the vicinity that he could think of, and if a fireplace was available, he wasn't eager to feel again the flames searing his skin so soon anyway. He decided to use the fountain located at the central courtyard as his meditation object. It was large and powerful, with the water powering it coming from a natural spring so he assumed it should at least emit some mana, while being totally harmless.
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