Sweat trickled off of the round, reddened face as it twisted into a grimace and a small whimper passed through the man's usually curved upward lips. Ren Zexian watched him carefully. Awakening the dormant spiritual roots within an adult man was not an easy thing to do, in his old world no one would consider doing such a thing, such was reserved for children whose bodies were still considered adaptable. However, this was not his world and doing this could either improve the man's chances of survival or destroy the spiritual roots altogether and leave him weakened. Let it be said that Ren Zexian did warn the man, Patrick, before proceeding to give him the Root Origin pill from his small stock of pills hidden in his interspacial pouch.

So far, the man was doing quite well, but Ren Zexian was on the alert for any possible changes to his condition. Patrick had been dealing with the effects of the pill for close to half an hour now, but this was not a bad sign. It would have been a sign that the pill had not been effective should he had roused from his stupor too soon, but should he linger too long, it could be a sign of rejection.

A small gasp escaped the man and his complexion began to change, the heat in his cheeks cooling, though his eyes remained closed. Ren Zexian placed his fingers upon the other's wrist and sent his spiritual awareness into his body. Ah, his roots were responding, now they were at a critical juncture. Either the two roots awakened or they died. Ren Zexian pushed a little of his energies through the man, trying to unblock his meridians, so that the expected surge of energy within the man had somewhere to flow through and could begin to circulate. This would help prevent an inner eruption and ruin the hard work Patrick had put in so far.

The two men remained in the meditative state for yet another hour, before Ren Zexian finally pulled away with a slight sigh. "Well?" Dexter, who had appeared in the doorway during this time, asked. "How did it go?"

Dexter would admit to no one that he was accepting the Asian man's strange ways and knowledge. He, himself, had only tried the meditation technique Ren Zexian had told to him a couple of times, as well as a little on the roof beneath the warm rays of the sun, and already he felt some small improvement. Okay, so it was no miracle solution like those in manga's or anything, but an improvement was an improvement, no matter how you looked at it.

Ren Zexian gave a small, content smile. "Patrick appears to have been successful," Ren Zexian replied, honestly.

Dexter frowned slightly as he stared at the man, whose eyes were still firmly shut, as if trying to find any difference. "Really? Then why is he still out cold?" He questioned. As if on cue, Patrick let out a soft snore, his jaw falling slack as he slumbered, still in a cross legged position. "Never mind. So what sort of powers will he get?"

"His roots are of Grounding and Spark," Ren Zexian answered, softly, rising to his feet quietly so not to disturb the sleeping man.

"So...." Dexter tried not to roll his eyes. Ren Zexian was definitely a man of riddles and Dexter was a blunt man and preferred a more direct dialogue.

"Grounding... this is an ability that can negate flight, causing a pull to the earth," Ren Zexian explained, this sort of thing was more difficult to explain in this world. In his world, this was common knowledge, after all.

"Wait.. that sounds like... gravity? He can effect gravity?" Dexter's jaw dropped and he glanced at the smaller man, who was slowly slumping towards the ground as he slept.

"I'm not sure about this word," Ren Zexian admitted. Dexter shook his head, also conscious of the language barrier.

"What about the other; spark?" Dexter decided to ask.

"''Tis a weaker version of your own," Ren Zexian replied. "It effects only his body and not his surroundings. Others would be considered a waste root due to it's weakness. However, I believe that it is still of use." Indeed, when used correctly, it could envelope the man's frame in a tight field of lightning, shocking or stunning any who attempted to touch him with hand or sword. But it would never be projected, like the lightning that came from Dexter's fingers.

"Explain," Dexter demanded. "What do you mean by 'waste root'? Do you mean that 'spark' ability is crap?"

Ren Zexian shook his head and tried to think how best to explain. "Where I am from, strength is everything, power is everything. Anything that falls outside of this is considered weak, useless or a waste. People are born with spiritual roots or they are born without, so from birth we are divided into those who can take the path of cultivation and rise to become great and those who cannot and are simply ants beneath those with power. It is... was not a kind world.

"Spiritual roots can be separated once more into major, minor and waste roots. Those with major and minor roots have the chance to rise to the highest peaks, while those with waste roots tend to falter without fail. They are not alone in this for a person with one or two roots is considered great, while a person with many is seen as trash. But too many roots or waste roots failing, this is not a law cast in stone, for I, myself, proved many times that those considered trash can still rise, but it is much, much more difficult and those without resolve will never achieve their dreams."

"So what does lightning come under?" Dexter asked curiously.

"Minor, for the most part," Ren Zexian told him and then shook his head with a slight smile. "But it is the one root that could not be considered so simple. It is on par with one of the major roots." Dexter still felt that he was not getting to whole picture, that there was a great deal more to learn, but at the same time, he couldn't help but think that were they not surrounded by zombies and using strange powers, how ridiculous it would have all sounded.

"Don't want cheese!" Patrick suddenly yelped out before completely falling to the ground and snoring peacefully away. Dexter's face twitched in amusement and he indicated with a nod of his head that they should probably leave the sleeping 'beauty' alone. Ren Zexian smiled in response and followed the other man out of the room.

*****

Dexter was still dwelling over the stranger than fiction facts he had listened to spilling freely from Ren Zexian while poking the rice upon his plate with a fork. The others around the table stared at him knowing that he was a man who enjoyed his food, especially with a good beer. The men glanced at each other before Paul joked; "You know, it isn't that bad!"

"What?" Dexter looked slightly confused over his words, before looking at his untouched plate. "Yeah, no it's fine. I was just thinking over some stuff, that's all." He took a large mouthful of rice and curry sauce and stuffed it into his mouth to prove a point. It was a bit bland, he thought, needed more spice.

"So where's Ren?" Patrick asked, he felt quite refreshed after his nap and very hungry. His stomach had growled so much it sounded as if he had gained a second mouth! He had wolfed down half of his plate of food before letting up for air, slowing down to savour the remnants with the open can of warm beer.

"Said something about the kid offering him dinner," Dexter responded. "He's probably eating over there as we speak."

"I'm not sure if he is missing out or not," Tyler muttered softly, happy to be eating meat... even if it was from a can and there was more sauce than edible lumps. He glanced out of the window at the garden where he could see the rows of plants in various states of growth, some with unripened fruits that in time could be harvested. "Now, I'm not saying we should," Tyler mentioned, "but were it any other squad, that garden would have been decimated by now."

Harry snorted loudly, while the others looked grim. They all knew what Tyler was trying to say, that with so many vegetables and fruits just beyond their finger tips, who would not be tempted when food was so scarce. But it didn't mean that they should act like thugs and vandals. "No one touches it," Dexter said, firmly. "That kid grew all of this, probably not because of any Apocalypse or for his own survival, but just cos he loved too. If it comes to it, we can ask him if it would be alright if we can take some, but we won't lower ourselves to steal from a kid."

"Besides," Winston mentioned, "there's a whole village of rich people's houses around here. There might be more beer!"

"I could kill for a glass of Claret right now," Tyler groaned as he sipped the beer with a grimace.

"What sort a man wants wine over beer?!" Winston teased, acting all offended.

"One with taste," Tyler retorted, ignoring the five questioning faces that turned to stare at him.

Author's note; I messed up the time line a little, hence earlier edits. I might make a few other minor adjustments yet.