The Battle of Lake Baikal was the first true confrontation between the World Government and the Resistance forces. It lasted six months and ended with a draw shortly after the third outbreak.

The cluster of 56 Level 2 rifts appeared on the southern side of Lake Baikal, becoming the largest and the most contested rifts cluster in the world.

During the first month, both armies cleared the area around the cluster from the monsters, then began clearing the rifts. There was even an informal truce between armies until the region was reclaimed.

Neither of the sides agreed to the conditions presented by the other side. The tentative peace was broken during a cold October’s night. To this day, it is not known if the accident was premeditated or not.

The battle involved seven million soldiers on both sides and ended the lives of 60% of them.

It is said that if not for the third outbreak, clashes in the rest of the world would spiral out of control, killing millions if not billions of citizens. The third outbreak united humankind. At least for a brief moment.

Historical Account of the Pre-Dominion Era

Unknown Author

Keynes ate the fruit. It was the size of a cherry and tasted like one but better, clearer, richer, sharper. Explaining the taste enhanced by Hugo’s Talent wasn’t easy because Keynes had never tasted anything in his life that could be compared to this masterpiece. But it wasn’t what got his attention.

Buff Acquired:

Untraceable (medium, temporary, 1 hour).

“This…” He pointed at his mouth. “Made me untraceable. How’s this possible?” Keynes immediately started to scour his brain for information and with utter shock found nothing. At least from the credential sources. There was plenty of info about alchemy, all sorts of shady formations and rituals, runes, spells, body-changing Talents and so on, on the Web, or at least on its darker side but not a single tidbit about the gardening gone wild.

But the dark Web was the domain of charlatans who prayed on gullible souls. Keynes hadn’t fallen for any of that stuff, totally. In his defence, he was too young and too smart or too stupid for his own good to realise that not everything on the Web was the truth.

To think of that, not even the military and government had anything of this sort. The first serious application of runes Keynes encountered in Freeman’s mansion. The runes used in the base in Jamaica were the most basic ones. But venturing beyond them was like falling off the cliff, or climbing one without hands and feet. The runic scripture was incomplete.

School hadn’t taught such stuff and had rather focused on fundamentals like mathematics, history, languages, basic science and magic subjects or economics. Advanced subjects were the domain of higher education and it was the world not easily accessible to the average person. To become a researcher like Webster Frog, Willow Croft or Murphy Polloc one needed the right Talent, the right job or a wealthy family.

There were many reasons why it was like this and some of them sounded reasonable, like control of the propagation of dangerous knowledge. Some people with powerful Talents could cause a lot of harm if they were left unchecked. Keynes had agreed with that premise before he experienced the abuse from the World Government.

Now, he felt completely different about it. Limiting access to advanced knowledge seemed like disarming society, though Keynes had a strong suspicion that he was missing something here. He had to figure this out.

“It does but how do you know?”

“I received a spiritual message about the buff,” Keynes replied.

Hugo frowned then realised something.

“What is your Level?”

“I’m Level 2.”

“That explains the uniform. But.” He shook his head and waved at Keynes. “I don’t want to know anything about this. However, I’d get rid of that uniform if I were you.”

“I don’t have any other clothes.”

Hugo asked him to follow. They returned to the cottage, where an outrageously blissful smell of baking came from the kitchen. Hugo grumbled something in his regional language, then led Keynes to a spare room.

“Here, change your clothes and when you finish, hand me your old ones. Some Talents that can trace your clothes.”

Keynes changed his clothes while wondering about the old man’s wisdom. Hugo knew quite a lot. And the untraceable fruit only added credibility to his words.

Hugo took his old clothes and they returned to the small garden where Hugo opened a blue plastic barrel and shoved all Keynes’s clothes inside. They sank soundlessly in a black, honey-like liquid.

“Does it wash the smell or something?”

“No. It disintegrates almost everything.

“Ah.” Something to keep in mind.

“Now, does your buff tell you how long it lasts?”

“One hour.”

“Drat. That’s very short. But we can work something out.”

Back inside the greenhouse, Hugo started going through the labels he had attached to each plant. He did it in silence, frowning or quietly cursing as he moved from one plant to another. Then he checked on the glyphs and murmured more curses.

Keynes was mildly irritated and asked the man about it.

“Since my wealthy customers are gone, I curbed the variety of my crop to the ones that are easily cultivated or those I have ingredients to actually cultivate. I remember I had a blue star tomato once. It doubles the duration of buffs for a day though it can be used only once a month. But it seems, I’ve discontinued them.”

“Wait.” Keynes’s eyes widened. “Slow down. Do you understand that nothing you say is available anywhere on the Web?”

“I told you we don’t share information.”

This wasn’t it. Even with severely limited access to higher education and so on, there was no way to stop information from slowly getting out to the public. It just didn’t make sense. There were always people who wanted to learn and share what they’d learnt. So where were they?

Keynes didn’t see a point in discussing this with Hugo. The old man didn’t seem to care about it and Keynes was on a timer so he needed to use his time wisely.

“How many of those cherries do you have?”

Hugo went to the miniature tree in a pot and counted the cherries. Keynes counted two-hundred and sixteen but Hugo told him he could only use a week's worth of supply. Keynes didn’t argue with the man, but Hugo proved to be perceptive.

“After a week of constant usage, they will become toxic and I don’t have any plant that can cleanse your body.”

That seemed strange as it sounded like an important plant. Keynes asked about it.

“You need alchemy for that kind of plant. I do not know alchemy. It is another thing I’d never touch.”

Keynes was going to ask about the relationship between alchemy and growing plants when Sophie interrupted them.

“Strawberry cake is ready. You need a break.”

Hugo had a conflicted expression. It looked like he wanted to stay and talk more about gardening but his wife’s invitation was impossible to refuse. Keynes’s stomach grumbled at the thought of eating her cake.

She saw it and solved her husband’s problem.

“You can always talk in the kitchen.” She turned to Keynes. “It’s not like Brandon’s leaving, right?”

“I may need another cherry though,” Keynes said and Hugo picked one for him. Only then, Sophie realised that Keynes had no longer had his uniform on him.

“Why do you need a ghost cherry?” she asked.

“We don’t ask such questions, do you remember?” Hugo grumbled and she left them.

“Let's go and eat that damned cake so we can get back here and I can show you a thing or two if you’re still interested.”

“I am very much interested.”

***

Expectedly, the strawberry cake tasted out of this world. If this was the kind of food the elites had on a daily basis then someone needed to tell the world about Hugo’s Talent.

Before they thanked her for the cake, Keynes overheard the news from the other room.

“...confirm yet another terrorist attack, this time in Lower London. Four suspects were identified: Christopher Wolf, Kaito Ren, Vivena Sael and Daiyu Fen…”

Keynes almost choked on the cake.

“You alright?” Hugo asked as his brows squashed together.

“Y--yes, crap, what, how?” He murmured.

“...oh, yes, there is more bad news for England this time around, Australia cannot take everything for itself. An intelligent rift monster was reported near Letchworth Truman’s estate, where, reportedly, his entire family was killed in the first outbreak…”

“...President Freeman still has not addressed the world since the second outbreak…”

“Turn that damned TV off,” Hugo shouted then added to Keynes. “I can’t stand that name.”

Sophie closed the door to the other room.

“That woman.”

***

“Now,” Hugo said once they were back in the greenhouse. The place wasn’t small but it was tightly packed with pots and plants. “What do you know about gardening?”

“It appears I know nothing.”

Hugo shook his head in annoyance.

“Fine,” Keynes added, a little irritated. “It’s a practice of growing and cultivating plants.” He cited the information from the Web.

“That’s all you know?” Hugo asked.

“Isn’t that a little self-explanatory?”

“Alright.” The old man went to a small, bonsai-like tree and picked a leaf then put it into his mouth. “If my memory serves me right, you’ll be the third person I teach and perhaps the last one.”

With each chew, his body relaxed and Keynes suspected it was because of the leaf but he didn’t comment on it.

“Gardening, as you said, seems self-explanatory but it is anything but. There are three main branches you must be aware of: natural, standard and focused.

“Natural gardening is cultivating the plants in their most natural habitat. It usually has the biggest potential but also carries the most risks because you don’t control the habitat and rely on the self-regulation of the environment. I’m fairly sure there were a few cover-ups where some nasty plants got out of control.

“Standard gardening is what you see here. You control as much as you can, leaving the rest to the plants. Focused gardening is more science than actual gardening. You keep your plants in small and very specialised vivariums within very tightly monitored and controlled conditions.”

“In other words, the degree of control determines the type of gardening.”

A moment of silence came and went.

“Yes. Each type has different uses. There are plants only found in natural habitats. No matter what you do, how perfectly you recreate the conditions of the natural habitat, they won’t grow in an artificial environment. On the other hand, there are plants that can only be cultivated in extremely controlled conditions. It is impossible to grow them anywhere on Earth otherwise.”

It sounded a lot like physics and once more stepped beyond Keynes’s understanding of gardening. The natural and focused types of gardening hadn’t been mentioned in any book he’d read or the Web’s site he’d visited.

“I guess there are important reasons for the existence of these three types, like powerful plants exclusive to each of them.”

“Yes but again, we gardeners don’t share anything with each other.”

“Why? Some friends mentioned Spirit…”

“They mentioned Spirit only because they tried to mess with me not to help me. If they knew they could actually be onto something… Anyway, it’s just the way it is.”

At first, Keynes wanted to press the man for more but he decided against it. The couple showed him an impressive level of hospitality and he wouldn’t demand more from them.

Hugo went over the basics. In reality, it was a trial and error as there weren’t any external sources. Then he went on about fundamental plants that made up the basis of more complex specimens. This way Hugo could target attributes of the plants. It wasn’t precise as there were always variations that couldn’t be eliminated but this method was quite reliable. The attributes would vary in duration, strength and so on but the theme would remain the same.

The next day and a difficult night because Keynes needed to wake up every hour to eat a ghost cherry, he was ready to go through Hugo’s recipes. Each plant Hugo had ever grown, he noted down. While he wasn’t going to share this knowledge with a wider audience, he wanted it written. Why? He didn’t explain.

After an insanely good breakfast, they returned to the greenhouse where Hugo explained the recipe behind every herb, vegetable and fruit there. Keynes immediately saw the issue.

“I’ve never heard about these ingredients. Where do you get them from?”

He didn’t just use any fertile soil. His plants required very specific soil or they’d give him unwanted results. Some of them needed more than that. Minerals, elements, exotic substances that smelled of alchemy, other processed plants, like a bluelight-blasted bark of a regal tree. I have no idea what that is.

“I haven’t considered that,” Hugo replied and paused for a long moment, when he finally made up his mind, he still didn’t look convinced. “I wouldn’t normally share any of that with you. I like talking about gardening. It’s my life. And I’m not being a full altruist here, I have some favours to ask of you but this is where we step into dangerous territory. I don’t know you and for all I know you could be a spy sent here to steal my secrets.”

“But?” Keynes asked, unsure if he should be speaking.

“Sophie’s Talent tells her if someone has a good heart. She’s never been wrong in her life. It’s how we’ve survived in this perilous business. We’ve trusted the right people and we’ve been rewarded handsomely.”

Okay, Keynes could see where it was going…

“She tells me you have a good but troubled heart. She says I should trust you. I don’t have her Talent and my instincts scream at me to shove you into the blue barrel, pack out things and leave.”

Keynes immediately checked the rifle in his dimensional pouch. If the old man tried something fishy, Keynes wouldn’t think twice.

Hugo must have seen the change in Keynes’s expression and his face softened. He slumped a bit.

“I’m sorry. I’m an old fart. I once thrived in this crazy world full of secrets and people so wealthy they were above the law and everything but now it looks like I can't handle the pressure as easily as I used to.”

“So, no barrel then?”

Hugo chuckled.

“You’re Level 2, plus, I’m sure my attributes have atrophied to the point I’m too weak to be a threat to someone like you.” This sounded exactly like something Keynes would say in Hugo’s place to ease the other person’s nerves.

“I guess it means no.”

“If Sophie says you have a good heart, then you have a good heart. I trust that woman with my life.”

Keynes nodded but couldn’t fully relax.

“Going back to your question. To answer it, I need to go back a little into the past. Let’s find a bench so we don’t need to stand here like idiots.”

There was a bench near the small garden, with a nice view of the lake. After they sat down, Keynes checked the untraceable buff and grimaced at how quickly the hour was going by.

He ate another ghost cherry while Hugo launched his story.

“Once I unlocked my Talent, I received hundreds of job offers. Many companies went to crazy lengths to win me over their competitors. It wasn't a hard choice, I went with the best paying offer and quickly learned to hate this.” He gestured toward his orchard. “After my ten-year contract ran out I left.”

“Didn’t they try to stop you?”

Hugo grumbled something in his regional language that didn’t sound nice.

“They did. Offered me a chance to level up, more money, whatever. I quit anyway. I travelled a lot around the world. I met people. I saw things. But in the end, my thoughts returned to gardening, to growing plants. I worked for a few famous gardeners but each time we’d grown too close, they let me go.”

Keynes opened his mouth to ask a question but closed it under Hugo’s hard stare.

“I didn’t know the reason back then. It made no sense. Tired of their crap, I started my own gardening venture in Portugal. With my Talent, there was no competition. I obliterate every other gardener in a radius of three hundred kilometres.”

He paused and Keynes sensed that something important was coming.

“Then I met Sophie. Beautiful, full of energy. Smart but kind. She also was a scion of a lesser Old Blood family, the Beauforts. Long story short. We fell in love and her family, somehow, approved of our match. I was invited to their estates, where I met people… insane people who talked about rituals, runes, enhanced food and so on. After our wedding, they showed me things. I was around thirty-five and what they said was mind-boggling, the possibilities… were unlimited. I started experimenting with plants from scratch because, for all their insight, they shared nothing with me when it came to gardening except for the contacts. Years went by, I have developed a good grasp of what was possible with the materials their contacts could sell to me. And believe me, the taste was the least of the things the wealthy wanted.

“I could make a plum that decreased your body temperature by ten degrees Celcius in a matter of minutes or a strawberry that dehydrated a person or an animal in an hour… oh, yeah, I shouldn’t really be talking about this. In the end, we received an invitation to Emerald Lake. The place of the elites. Even the Beauforts were small fries here until they went bankrupt and disappeared. That’s more or less how you source the ingredients required to grow the magical plants.”

“Sounds like you have no access to your sources anymore.”

“Apt observation.” Hugo nodded with a little sarcasm that Keynes ignored because his mind went into overdrive. It added to the mysteries of why this knowledge wasn’t available. If a minor Old Blood family knew things like that. Or rather, he could see why, but how could anyone suppress it? While Keynes pondered this issue he asked a different question.

“Why Emerald Lake? What’s so special about this place?”

Hugo shrugged.

“If there is a secret to this place, it hasn’t been shared with me or Sophie. All I know is that every shop, every service in Emerald Lake is special. They have enchanted clothes here… or used to have before the wealthy had escaped. There is, or was, a hunting ground with modified prey.”

“Modified prey?”

“Yes. Animals you can’t find anywhere else on Earth. Not that it matters anymore.”

Hugo stood up, cursing his old age.

“Isn’t there food that can reverse age?”

That got a chuckle from Hugo. He tapped Keynes on the shoulder.

“To afford the ingredients required to start the experimentation, I’d have to sell everything I own and there is a sliver of a chance I’d come close to achieving anything worth mentioning with these ingredients. So it’s best to forget it. Let’s get back to the garden. We have many more plants to go over. I may show you how to make a few substitutes of some ingredients. If you want to really dig into it, we better make good use of the week you have.”

The following night, Keynes asked for an empty notebook and a pen and wrote his first entry titled - ‘Possibilities Unlimited’.