Adam didn’t have homes. Not ever since that rat-bastard of a landlord evicted his underage self from Mary’s old apartment. He drifted from place to place, learning to sleep with an eye open and eating whatever he could get his hands on. West Junction was just another in the line.

“Wait, I get a whole room to myself?”

Saria peeked her head into the doorframe. “It’s not big.” She warned. “It’s a standard room.”

“Hey, if it’s got a bunk, I can live in there.” Adam said. “Are you two going to stand guard outside while I sleep?”

Saria winced, but shook her head. “Thankfully, no.”

“We’re trying to pass you off as you know…” Lucy said.

“A Pactbearer?”

“Don’t say it out loud!” Saria hissed. “You did that on purpose!”

He smirked and shrugged.

“For real, please don’t do that again, Adam.” Lucy interjected. “It’ll be bad for you, and us, if you caused a stir.”

His bag went at the foot of the bunk. Saria handed over a set of spare clothes dug out of the recycle bin—a set of tracksuit pants, a faded shirt and an stuffy overcoat. Clothes were one thing that wasn’t in short supply during their scavenges, she explained. The monsters certainly didn’t care.

And that was it, he had settled in. It felt weird to think that. It was also weird how he was in somewhat of a good mood. Maybe it was the exhilaration of being alive. Maybe it was the realisation that he no longer had to attend university. Maybe it was the knowledge that he had a valuable asset and had the freedom the utilize it in ways he wished.

“Come on, Adam.” Saria called, “We need to show you around.”

Okay, so he wasn’t completely free. Then again, it’s not as if he built his entire life philosophy around that fact. He only wanted to survive and live. If West Junction offered that, he had no room to complain.

Lucy and Saria took him on an impromptu tour around the town. Its namesake was simple—it was located at the west end of a crossroads, if viewed from the south. The fact that it was positioned on the west side of Steeldale was merely a coincidence.

At first glance, the place was surrounded by makeshift steel-plate walls, barbed wire and lookouts manned by a rotating shift of guards. Further information from Lucy said there were also mines constructed from the red buried beneath the parts outside the roads. A certain individual was responsible, since that was his Talent.

“What are those?”

“The mines?”

“No, Talents.”

“Oh, it’s like magic. Which your world doesn’t have.” Lucy said. She looked troubled, trying to think up a comparison. “Well, it’s an extension of your body. Such as throwing a punch in a certain way, except Talents tend to have more adverse effects on the environment.”

“Like waving a wand and casting a spell?”

“Man, is that how they thought of magic in your world?” Saria said. “That sounds silly.”

“Yes, it should’ve come from within the body.” Lucy chimed.

“Don’t ask me how Harry Potter works.” Adam said. “So, what do Talents do?”

“They’re very specific. They do one thing only, but they do it exceptionally well, at the cost of flexibility. As for ours, well, we can’t tell you.” Lucy said. “It’s a force of habit, sorry.”

“Why? Because it’s a hidden ace up your sleeve?”

“Yes.”

No need for further explanations. He understood. Had he still been on the streets, he’d keep his mouth shut about the stuff he learned. Like that eagle spear he picked up from the karate dojo; it was instrumental in defeating some kickboxer prick from another city. Hey, there were no rules about gouging eyes, alright?

West Junction was constructed from abandoned research laboratories and factories from Steeldale’s old industrial sector. After the migration, refugees found its infrastructure useful in getting a stable foothold beneath the cherry-red skies. A little relocating of materials from the ruins, some repair work to the factory interiors and a large amount of weaponry—both external and internal—and voila, you had a fledgling village up and running.

Lucy and Saria took him all the major locations. The river, where they fished and washed. The canteen, once serving the same purpose in a metalworks factory, where a chef gave the girls some fresh bread. The scavenger barracks, where most of the important equipment was stored.

They entered a greenhouse complex. Something had splintered it in half, leaving one half exposed. Plants were arranged in tubs of earth, a faint crimson glow surrounding them. He saw workers till the soil, sow the seeds and pick off the fruits of their labor. A man rolled past a trolley full of potatoes, waving hello to Lucy and Saria as he went.

“I’m going to be working here, huh…”

“Ever done gardening?” Saria said.

“Nope.”

“Neither did we.” Saria said. “Everyone has to pitch in, though. Plants need the red.”

“I thought the red was based on the soul.”

“Yeah, but we make the plants grow.” Saria said. When Adam looked confused, she shrugged. “It’s the reason the old man gave us. We can harvest crops much faster than in our home world, because of the red. It’s how everyone gets fed around here.”

“The only trouble is that the food is poisoned with the red.” Lucy said. “We have to cleanse them first, and the workers need to detox themselves.”

Detox, Adam had learned, was expelling the excess soul energy into the world. It was either reused by people who lacked it, or collected into bottles and put downstream.

“You might need to pretend to detox.” Lucy said. “Just until we get your new status sorted out.”

Great, so it was just like cutting himself.

They took him to a bearded man in overalls and jeans. He looked like a bull with all the wrinkles on his face. He put down his tools and inspected Adam over with beardy eyes. Adam got the impression the man could snap him in two with his bare hands, should he wish.

“Howdy. This the new kid, Lucy, Saria?”

“Hey. I’m Adam.”

“You good with your hands, Adam?”

He showed them. They were covered in scars from all the fighting. Rough skin, hard to the touch.

“Can you lift heavy bags?” John continued to pester him with questions. “You good in the sun, boy?”

“I was homeless for seven years.” He responded.

“Don’t worry, sir.” Saria said. “We’ll work on his physical fitness.”

In the end, his shifts were decided. He would start physical work, since he apparently wasn’t that great with dexterity.

The physical exam was next. Jogging, lifting weights, taking most of his clothes off and getting poked and prodded by the doctors on the base. None of it was done with official gym equipment. Instead of barbells, they had milk cartons packed with sand. It was nostalgic. He had tried the same method a few years back, with scrap he found in a dumpster.

Then came the part where he needed to fight.

“Why is she here?” He asked, pointing to Brigid.

“Lucy, inform the canteen that his alcohol privileges are revoked.” Brigid said. “Make it last for two weeks.”

“What!”

“Understood.” Lucy said, noting it down on a piece of paper.

“Hey, I need an explanation for that. What do you mean alcohol privileges.”

“It is the punishment for talking back to your superior.” Brigid said. “Extend it to four weeks!”

“Damn it!”

“Adam, just shut up. You’re only digging yourself harder.”

He was told to line up and square off against Lucy and Saria, in turn. He fought them in rounds, one by one. And got his assed kicked in all of them. Everything he knew, his throws, different styles of punches, his kicks…it was all futile against their superior strength and skill. Lucy dodged under his punches and slammed her palm into his temple, knocking him over. Saria wrestled him out of his grabs and flipped him over into the dirt.

Goddamn, did it hurt. Lucy was almost apologetic. Saria seemed to get some vindictive pleasure out of beating him up. Revenge for what he did after drinking that bottle of red. Fair, he deserved that.

“Do you feel anything?” She suddenly asked him half-way through his latest spar.

“As in what?”

“You know, the red.”

“No.” He said.

“Huh, so I guess you don’t have a natural affinity.” Saria said. “We’re still working out how this Pactbearer stuff works. Information on it is scarce.”

“How does it feel for you?”

“Honestly?” Saria said. “It felt great. I get why so many Exile want to make pacts now.”

“Can you tell me?”

“Maybe some other time. Alright, we’re done here.”

“So, what now?”

“The other guys are gonna write up a training plan for you.” Lucy said. “You will have to follow it.”

Saria placed a hand on his shoulder. It was not the nice kind. She smirked.

“Get used to this, Adam. You are not getting out of this until you can match me in a fight.”

“That day might come sooner than you think…”

“Ha! As if!”

And as such, Adam’s life within West Junction began. He would look back on the experience with fondness in the near future. For now though…it was somewhat painful.