Mana is the force that flows through and around every existing object in the universe, regardless of the presence of life. It can be manipulated and used by means of awakening of the “Vi” in a conscious body. The flowing mana in the universe is made up of very small particles which cannot be singularly seen by the naked eye. There are two kinds of mana, the internal and the external mana; whereas the internal mana refers to the amount of mana that a certain medium can hold within its body; while the mana that can be found in the surrounding and is not contained in a medium is called the external mana. Both internal and external mana can be used by a conscious medium with awakened Vi depending on their mastery of skill.

In this world, humans who have awakened their Vis are called “Reveils” while those who have not are referred to as the “Ubliss.” The Vis are the centers of mana within a living body. In every living medium there exists a system known as the “Mana Circuit,” which is responsible for the flow of mana throughout the body. In this circuit, three Vis are found, regardless of whether they are awakened or stays dormant. Viscaput is found in the head area, centers in the brain; Viscor is located at the chest area, centers in the heart; and Visumbilicus rests in the stomach area, centers in the navel.

The reveils are divided into four classes, Mages, Espers, Ki Masters, and Contractors. Mages are the ones who have awakened their viscaput and viscor; they specialize in imagery controlled by their emotional stability. Those who have awakened their viscaput and visumbilicus are espers; they focus on the strong image in their mind which is then materialized through the abstract nature of their mana. The Ki Masters are the people who have awakened their viscor and visumbilicus; unlike the mages and espers, they do not focus on imagery but rather on raw power, emotional balance and physical fitness. The fourth class is the so called Contractors; they have awakened all three vis. Having able to awaken all vis, Contractors have gained the ability to summon a different body connected to their soul, called the Yashou.

Whether a person can awaken their Vis highly depends on their ancestry, though there is a small margin of irregularity. There are times when a reveil suddenly awakens in a family line of pure ubliss. These children are often referred to as “sprouts,” though ICA does not acknowledge the term. On the other hand, there are also some cases where a couple who are both reveils gives birth to an ubliss child. These children are also often teased and called “maims” even though the term is deemed derogatory. These cases are very rare, which make more of the reason why they become the center of attention in places where they occur.

The normal stage, for most reveil children, to awaken their Vi is during their puberty. It is the phase when the body experiences many physical changes. The ages from 8 to 18 years is considered a crucial time for families in the lineage of reveils, while most ubliss are not bothered by it. Most awakening happens from age 9 to 14, thus many find it disquieting when their child do not awaken during this stage. Those who awaken after turning 15 are sometimes referred to as late bloomers. There are also cases when a child awakens before puberty. There are not any problems found in it, conversely many find it as good opportunity to train with their abilities early on. In very rare cases, some reveils are also born with their vis already awakened. These children are always raised as prodigies. Reveils who awakened after birth undoubtedly grows up to be the strongest ones in history.

∞×∞

First day of Sapta’xahr, Tnej’zien, past 9:00 am.

Alapaap Building, room 203.

During the second period, Class 1-C is taking a lesson about “The Introduction to the Mana Circuit.” Professor Severius Espiritu is explaining the basic knowledge that the students should know about the “Awakening.” While listening to his lecture, students are chattering and murmuring to each other. They found the topic quite interesting that they are starting a discussion related topic amongst themselves. They are asking their close friends about the time they have awakened. Some are bragging about how early their awakening is. There are those who are humbly laughing off because of their very normal awakening process. There are also some who are enthusiastically telling about how nervous they were as their time pass by without a hint of their power showing.

“Hey,” a girl beside calls. “Azalea, when did you learn that you are a mage?”

“Oh-” Azalea’s eyes are focused on her tablet. Her fingers are tapping news articles in the internet about a completely different topic. “I think I was around twelve.” She lies while she continues to swipe to the next page of the article she is reading.

“Well, that’s unexpectedly normal.”

“What do you mean?” Azalea asks without looking away from her tablet.

“You felt kind of different.”

That remark bothers her so she turns to check on the classmate who talked to her but there is now a different boy sitting beside her. She looks around but she did not pay enough attention to the person that her physical appearance did not register in her mind causing her to totally forget how the curious classmate looks like.

“The hell?” She mumbles feeling confused and conflicted. Should she be bothered? Or was that the result of innocent curiosity followed by honest disappointment. “I don’t really remember.” She tries to recall her childhood but she cannot remember a point when she did not think of herself as a mage. “About this awakening… this magic just felt so normal to me.”

“Class, keep it down.” Professor Espiritu raises his voice. “Listen properly; else I’ll give you a pop quiz.”

The students groan with complain as the noise slowly goes away.

“Had there ever been a time when my magic was inactive?” She asks herself. For as long as she can remember, her father‘s spell, ‘Sol’, has always been actively protecting her. After all, it is a spell that is beyond her control; one that she is unable to turn off.

The professor claps his mechanical prosthetic hands. The different sounding noise catches Azalea’s attention making her look towards that direction. A man that looks like he is in his early thirties stands in front of the LED board. He is wearing a gentle smile while clapping his hands twice. His black hair is neatly brushed in a clean-cut style. His gray eyes are inspecting the room as the noise of the students subsides.

“Let’s continue.” The professor says. It seems like he is not the kind to run out of patience easily.

∞×∞

Second day of Sapta’xahr, Lieta’zien, 11: 47 am.

AB Academy Library, third floor reading hall.

Upon entry, the smell of old books and dust welcomes the visitors of the less popular areas of the academy’s library. The tables and chairs are arranged in a row, where there are tables for four lined up by the window area and tables for six around the middle and wall area. At the farther back are lines of shelves organized and labeled to guide the students on their research. The newspapers and magazines dating back to who knows when are preserved in an adjacent room. The place is not crowded compared to the reading halls in the second and first floor. There are only three other people spending their time in the same floor, a pair of girls sitting side by side in one table near the entrance, while one guy stands close at one shelf at the far back. It seems that he is looking for something judging by the way his eyes and hands move back and forth. The only sounds playing are the distant chirping of birds and rustling of leaves from the outside, and within there is only the noise of the book pages as one turns to the next page.

In one table for six, with considerable distance from the other students in the hall, there rest Azalea, Blair, Primrose and Tristan. On one side sits the three girls while Tristan is left alone across the other side waiting for their informant. Azalea keeps on picking on her nails while leaving an old tattered book beside her. Blair cannot keep herself seated for more than five minutes so she stands up every now and then for no particular reason and nobody know when she would return or if she ever would. Primrose is eating a pack of pocky she sneaked into the library without anyone noticing. Opposite to their behavior, Tristan simply picked a book to read while waiting like what normal students would normally do.

“My pocky’s almost gone,” Primrose says while munching a stick of pocky from her second pack. “The Minerva person sure is late.”

“Do you base the punctuality of a person on how much you’ve eaten while waiting?” Tristan’s brows furrow.

“Why should I not?” She answers nonchalantly.

He sighs and then turns the next page of the book. “By the way, Blair isn’t back yet. It’s been more than ten minutes since she left.”

Primrose looks around while still eating her pocky one after another. “Who cares, she’s probably lost. She is an idiot after all.”

“She gave up looking for her just like that?!” Tristan screams internally. “Azalea, your best friend is missing.” He calls but it seems that she did not hear him. “Azalea, are you awake? A-za-le-a?!” He raises his voice a little while avoiding getting unwanted attention.

After hearing Tristan’s call, Azalea raises her head in front and stares at him for a moment. “What?”

“I almost thought you fell asleep,” he lowers his voice again. “Were you just deep in thought?” He asks but she did not give him a reply other than a false laugh. “What’s wrong with you today? Blair is roaming around somewhere.”

“Ah, she’ll be back soon enough.” Azalea answers then her eyes get fixed into something behind Tristan. “Seems like the one we’re waiting to meet is here.” She waves at her while wearing her usual business smile.

“We’ve been here for more than thirty minutes, I wonder if she got lost.” Tristan mumbles as he turns his gaze behind him.

There he sees a tall girl standing. She rolls her heather gray eyes around the room. Her dark brown hair is short and a bit curly at the ends touching the collar of her uniform. She is tanned from head to toe with a strong impression like that of a soldier.

“Your group is the only suspicious looking one here. I guess I’m at the right place.” She takes the sit one chair away from Tristan. She takes a few minutes to stare on every member as if she is peeling them alive.

She is wearing the uniform of the red-zone. The marking on her sleeves suggests that she is a sophomore. The same year Earl Spade is.

“Good day,” Tristan greets with a smile in an attempt to cover his anxiety. “I’m Tristan dela Torre, President of Asylum.” He continues with a calmer tone. “Over here is Azalea Blakewood, the Vice President, and the one on that side is Primrose Saintgregor.”

Minerva fixes her eyes at Primrose. She lets out a curious snicker. “Saintgregor, huh.” She then turns her eyes back to Tristan. “So, what’s her position?”

“The club mascot!” Azalea cuts in with a teasing tone.

“Yes, yes,” Primrose responds while picking the last stick from the pack. “Mascot, my responsibility only covers slacking off, eating, and sleeping.”

“The hell is that,” Minerva’s eye twitches. “So, what’s the deal this time? Some old friend I don’t really want to get in touch with suddenly pestered me.”

“Then, let’s be direct,” Azalea says wearing a smirk brimming with confidence. “What does it take to convince you to have Headless Warriors forge an alliance with Asylum?”

Minerva tilts her head higher and grins mockingly. “Nothing. Don’t even dare think about it.”

“W-wait-!!” Tristan suddenly raises his voice as he stood up attracting the attention of one of the other girls and the guy walking in the middle of the reading area. He looks around blushing out of embarrassment while trying to pick his composure back up again. “That’s way too fast.” He purposely lowers his tone.

“Don’t ask me,” she answers coldly. Her posture is relaxed. “I’m not the one leading the headless; I’m merely a member that isn’t even part of the inner circle.”

“But there’s a way for you to talk to the leader, isn’t there?” He asks while taking his seat back.

“Probably,” another cold answer as if she is not paying attention.

“That’s enough,” Azalea interrupts when Tristan is about to say another word. “What would it take convince your officials that Asylum is worthy of being additional power.”

“Dunno.” Minerva fixes her sight on Azalea.

Azalea pauses for a moment as if something suddenly sparks in her mind. “I see,” a malicious smile appears. “You are from Adillac, right?”

Minerva does not give a response. However there is a considerable change in the passive air she gives off earlier. She stares straight at Azalea’s smiling face.

“I used to be in a very friendly term with some merchant back in the days.” Azalea continues as if she is only talking to herself. “I heard some rumors. Stuff people love to gossip about from the south. I’m glad to meet someone who actually grew up there. Say, Minerva, is there really a vigilante group that call themselves ‘Revolutionaries’? In Adillac, they help people escape the war-zone.”

“It seems that you’re too fond of gossips, Miss Blakewood.” Minerva answers without flinching. She maintains her cold tone of voice.

“You see... Whether they are true or false, or even the twisted versions, I find them quite interesting. You’d be surprised how dramatic some of them are. Even ICA might find some of them quite entertaining.”

Tristan looks at the two of them. He is unable to understand the meaning behind their conversation. Although, he can feel the threatening air around them.

Minerva scoffs. “You are one nasty person.”

“Mhm… I get that a lot.”

“Saintgregor is not a member of any red-zone club.” She turns her heather gray eyes at the person mentioned.

Primrose, who is resting her head on the table because she ran out of snack, answers with an inaudible sound that probably affirms the statement.

“Fine,” she sighs. “I’ll break one club rule for you. As long as nobody from the headless knows it’ll be fine. Look, all I want is to be able to leave this academy without arousing any suspicions or get involved on some trouble.”

“Hm. Hm. I get what you mean.” Azalea replies with a friendly tone.

“All of the members of the Headless Warriors are pretty much like me.” Minerva continues. “The club is ‘headless’ mainly because we do not have a leader. The president is only a president on paper and has no real control over the members and its activities.”

“Huh? You mean a puppet president?” Tristan asks.

“You can call him that. He is pretty much the same as the all of the members. If you are looking for someone in-charge of the club’s affairs then they must be the ‘inner circle’ people… but nobody really knows who they are. ”

“How do they manage to still pass as a club all this time?” Tristan asks while recalling the list of quarterly report of club activities he needs to submit to the student council. “The club fund given to each club is monitored and must be spent on activities the members are required to participate in.”

“Headless works differently from the other two clubs. It is also the reason why I choose this one. First off, nobody’s bossing around. Everyone is free to do as they please as long as they do no attract trouble. That also means, if there is an announcement of club activity, members are free to choose to participate or not. I participated in one of these activities last year just to see how it is. There are a few dozen of members that participated as well. By the looks of it, it was impossible for me to point out who belongs to the inner circle.”

“I see, they communicate through announcements.” Azalea touches her chin. “Where do you go to see that announcement?”

Minerva takes out her phone. “There is an exclusive website for the club, only members with passwords can enter. They post warnings as well as announcements here.”

“I see.” Azalea peeks at the screen. “About these warnings… What are the specific rules you need to follow?”

“Right.” She takes her phone back and then starts reading something from it. “Rule one. The inner working of the club will not be discussed to anyone who is not a member. Rule two. Do not start trouble in public. Always mind your own business. Rule three. The President of Headless Warriors is only acting for formalities. He/she has no power over any member of the club; he/she is a regular member.”

“I see,” she responds casually.

“Couldn’t the president know something about the members of the inner circle?” Tristan asks. “Well, since he should have been personally in contact with them at some point. Right?”

“I guess so,” Minerva responds as if she has already anticipated that question to come up. “I would not suggest that approach though. Confronting the club president will only get you blacklisted. You’ll never meet them that way.”

Tristan falls into silence. He cannot think of anything else to suggest. It does not seem like forcing their way to meet this mysterious inner circle would give any good impression considering that they are going so far as to hide their presence.

“It can’t be helped,” Azalea says with an enthusiastic tone. “We’ll have to find a different way around. In this case, it does not matter whether we form an alliance. At the very least we need an eye inside.”

She intensely stares at Minerva who is only staring back at her.

“Huh…?” One of Minerva’s brow rises. “No way.”

“You don’t have to meet with us every day. Let’s just exchange contact info, then you can just tell us when you notice that something reeeeeeeeeeeeally suspicious is happening.”

“What’s there to gain for me?”

“We’ll protect your secret.” She raises a finger and lowers her voice. “Let’s both graduate peacefully.”

“Okay, let’s be clear about this. All I have to do is tell you if something strange comes up. I can act as always do without getting too involve. I won’t to do any sort of snooping around. I’m not trained to be a spy.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey- hey~ What are you talking about?” A familiar voice suddenly rings behind Azalea. Blair has returned and she is dragging another girl with her. “If the person we’re meeting is already here, you should have called me.”

“That’s your own fault for getting side tracked, idiot.” Azalea answers harshly. “And who’s that you’re dragging with you? Don’t bring someone who’s not even involved.”

“So, are you fine having an idiot in your group?” Minerva points at Blair.

“Your comments are hurting me,” a vein pops on Blair’s forehead. She glares at Minerva. “Do you have to think of me as that kind of person?” Then she pulls the girl and guides her to sit between Primrose and Azalea. “There, there, sit there for a while.”

Tristan covers his face with his hands while letting out a heavy sigh. “What are you doing? You know we are in an important meeting here, don’t bring an outsider.”

“Never mind, let’s end the deal here.” Minerva declares while standing up.

Azalea fixes her eyes on the girl then smiles. “Sorry, for the unneeded interruption,” she responds politely while turning her sight back to Minerva. “One last thing… The nineteenth day of Sapta’xahr, something is going to happen in the academy… keep an eye out.”

“Hmm… no problem,” Minerva answers while wearing skeptical expression. She is about to leave but she pauses and looks at Azalea again. “By the way, we never called ourselves ‘Revolutionaries,’ someone else made it up. Also, Earl Spade knows nothing about it, so don’t even mention it when he’s around.” She then turns her back to calmly walk away.

“Mhm. I understand.”

“Eh- We’re done?” Blair says not looking so happy. “I have no idea what just happened.”

“Isn’t that your fault?” Primrose lazily rolls her head on the table to look at Blair.

Blair clicks her tongue. “Why do I feel insulted by the way you turned your head?”

“Now, now~” Azalea cuts in wearing her business smile but she could not hide the vein that is about to pop at the side of her temple. “Let’s talk about the reason why you’re dragging people around.”

“Ah—yeah, about that.” Blair laughs after taking the seat that Minerva previously occupied. “Az, do you remember her? She’s that girl that was being troubled by those sophomores I beat up.”