ZETA

“Me? Why would you want to know about me?” Zeta asked.

“Because you’ve spent the last twelve hours assaulting me with questions and prying into my life!”

“Yes, because that was your punishment, and now its no longer valid” Zeta smirked. “But are you saying you want more?”

“Who is Sir Kagan? Give me a real answer this time!”

From Hera’s countenance, Zeta knew she had no intentions of letting this go. They both knew he had no reason to oblige, but for the life of him, he had no clue what sparked her curiosity.

“Very well. Is there somewhere we can sit?”

The closest tavern inn had little appeal compared to its competitors, but it was the only one with outdoor seating and a decent bit of privacy aside from the street. Zeta thought indoor seating would be better, but Hera was insistent. I imagine she doesn’t want to be away from the public eye.

Zeta categorized the parts of his life he was willing to mention before speaking. “I come from Greenwich. Do you know where that is?”

“Greenwich? Like the mountain a little ways south?”

“Precisely. Anyway, Sir Kagan built a huge complex up there. The place is massive!” It was only two buildings, but playful embellishment never hurt anyone. “That’s where I grew up. Sir Kagan trained me in the art of the sword, in sigmas, in how to ri–”

“Wait, sigmas? So you’ve already known everything I just told you?”

“No. You see, Sir Kagan ‘taught’ me, but uh…I didn’t necessarily have the best attention span.”

“So you mean to tell me that you had every opportunity to learn about sigmas, but because your deprived, hyperactive brain decided not to give him a lick of focus, you know nothing?”

“Um, yes.”

Hera stood up and slapped him, which dragged the attention of nearby pedestrians, causing her to sit back down and pretend it never happened.

“That was uncalled for,” Zeta said.

“Continue. I want another reason to slap you.”

“Heh, you won’t get a second chance. Anyway, Sir Kagan taught –or at least tried to teach– me and a handful of other orphans about the Sigma World. For the most part, he was successful, I’m the exception. However, even if I gave him my eyes and ears literally during my stay up there, Sir Kagan never let us actually practice with sigma.”

“Why?”

“He said there is no sigma user in this world who should receive their gifts as handouts, even for instruction. He told us that every sigma we gain should be from our own finds and conquests, so he never gave us any.”

“Which is why you have a sigma score of 0. I understand what your teacher told you, and it is partly true. All of my sigmas were earned by my own merit.”

“Of course it's true! Sir Kagan would never lie!” Zeta beamed.

“Right…was this ‘Sir Kagan’ a sigma user himself?”

“Of course. Sir Kagan was the greatest of them all.”

She raised an eyebrow. “According to whom?”

“According to him.”

She started laughing. Zeta couldn’t tell if it was mockery or not.

“And I’m going to succeed him.”

Her laughter grew louder. “I can’t believe I took you seriously at all! I fell into the same trap as Igel and Berto, for God’s sake! Zeta, you could hardly defeat the three of us, and you were lucky we spared you. Look, your worldview is admirable, but it sounds like this teacher of yours wasted years selling you the fantasy of sigmas. Reality is a different beast an imp such as you won’t be able to tame.”

“Then enlighten me. How does the ‘real world’ work?”

She stared at him with a bitter intensity. “Know. Your. Station.”

“I refuse.”

Hera frowned. “Denial doesn’t change anything. There are some users in the hundreds of thousands, some in the millions. In your case, anyone, everyone with a single shard of sigma power is your superior. It’s basic math. Maybe if you had a score of a thousand emerging from the womb and were the luckiest baby alive might you stand a chance of becoming ‘the greatest of them all.’”

“Well, those high-score users you just mentioned also managed to snag their collection within a lifetime. If they did it, I’m sure it’s not impossible,” Zeta said.

“Ugh, you frustrating fool!” she said. “They are powerful because of their bloodlines. Princes and princesses, kings and queens. Most of their power came from inheriting the sigmas of their ancestors. They run through the family. They practically stole the sigmas from their dead parent’s bodies. With existing power, they acquired more, and the cycle continues exponentially.

“You don’t have that time to collect such rare power, and that’s assuming an idiot like you will be lucky enough to live a full lifespan. Maybe your successors, at best,” Hera continued.

Zeta gazed out to the port beside them and the sea beyond. He envisioned the plentiful threats that lay in the limits of the world. Threats he needed to stop. Masters he needed to save.

“You’re partially right, Hera. I don’t have any time.”

“Well, you should be grateful to hear it from me. I’m the most qualified person in this entire damn city to tell you who cranks the handle on history. I’m glad some part of you is sane.”

“Because I have to bring humanity world peace before I die.”

“Never mind.”

“Hera, do you know what I do for a living? I’m new to the career, but I want to excel. Some call it ‘being a hero,’ but I hate that term. My only want is to heal this world, to purge it of the plague that puppeteers mankind. That’s not some value I adopted, it’s a collective request from my master.

“I may not have learned much about sigmas during my time with Sir Kagan. What I did learn, however, was the worth of humanity. I fell in love with our species, and I want to protect, to heal, to help them.

“The people are my master, and I am a servant. I’m a Servant of Humanity. What humanity wants is peace, an end to the constant suffering even if they can’t admit it, so I need to find the root of that problem and excise it, for that is what my master wants.”

The moment Zeta referred to himself as a ‘servant,’ Hera froze and went pale. When he finished preaching, she rose, smacked him again and motioned to leave.

“In regards to who you are, I got my answer, you lunatic,” she seethed.

Zeta called after her. “Wait, do you happen to know anyone in need of work? I’m desperate!”

She stormed off without an answer. To a degree, Zeta expected that reaction. He knew most people would call him insane after hearing his spiel about being the ‘Servant of Humanity’ bit, but in Hera’s case, he seemed to have struck a deeper nerve than he realized.

I wonder what that’s all about?

“Hey! There he is Igel!” came an inconvenient voice. Zeta turned to spot two familiar lugs of man coming at him.

Zeta sighed. “Talk about terrible timing.”

HERA

Hera announced her return to home with a slammed door, then she took a seat at the kitchen. Unfortunately, that spot had acquired enough bad baggage over the past day, so she went upstairs and sat in a chair instead, face in hands.

He ruined her day absolutely. Is everything a joke to that idiot? It was insulting. To call oneself a servant and toss the word around as if it meant something exceptional.

No, it was a word used for the inferior. Hera knew that much.

Her tolerance for his stupidity burst, but she had a gut feeling that it wouldn’t be the end of it. Sure enough, half an hour later someone was knocking on the door. The stubborn mule never gave up, did he?

Her anger cooled without healing, which in her opinion made it more lethal. After another round of knocks, Hera yanked the door open and started pounding on Zeta’s chest again with Neural Fighter.

“Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back. Here,” she iterated with every hit. “Just. Leave. Me. Alone. And. Go. Away!”

On the last strike, Zeta went flying backward into a pile of baggage lying behind him. He gripped his chest in pain.

Hera scoffed in disappointment. “You let me have that one.”

“Listen,” he began. “I returned to say I’m sorry. For all his greatness, growing up with Sir Kagan and a handful of the same faces didn’t teach me much in nuance. I think I came off kind of strong.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” she said. Hera noticed what Zeta was lying against. “Berto? Igel!”

Zeta awkwardly scratched his ear. “After you left, they kind of found me and there was no running away. Don’t worry, they’re just a little dazed.”

Hera found it hard to believe him considering their eyes had rolled back into their skulls.

He continued. “I don’t know what I said to upset you, Hera, but one day I want to know. I don’t want to leave this city with someone on bad terms if I can’t help it. More than that, I want you to tell me of your own free will, no conditions attached. No forceful interrogations. Truth is, I guess I need a second voice, an expert opinion. Can you help me?

“This time, don’t be afraid of me. Now I’ll be the one indebted to you.”

Hera crossed her arms and examined his expression as he spoke to determine it genuine. She sighed. “If you want food and rest, pay it back and pull your own weight. While you're under my roof, follow my rules. Can you do that?”

“Heh. Normally I wouldn’t accept. That kind of absolutist policy opens too many doors that I can’t escape from.” Zeta smiled. “But I trust you, so okay.”

She nodded. “Good.”

Zeta gestured to her partners half-conscious on the ground. “We should probably treat them. Where’s the doctor?”

Hera shook her head. “First lesson about Aspic. Unless you have many friends, treat your own wounds. They’re lucky to be my friends.”

Pocket Inventory - Meta, Portal: Creates a small rift to a personal pocket dimension which holds tangible items in a secure location. Can be accessed at any time. (5).

(A) Slide two fingers through the air. No VC required. Objects must be able to fit through the small rift to be added. The contents of one's Pocket Inventory are exposed to those who use Read Inventory on the user, although non-users cannot rip into a Pocket Inventory without the use of a specific sigma.O Can only hold a maximum of 50 separate items Can contain separate, unemployed sigmas.