Chapter Fifty-One – Azure Skies – Part Two

The ongoing study of Supporter Classes and their potential subclasses is a topic that in my opinion requires more attention. The majority of resources are diverted to studying Hunters, which is understandable from an acute perspective, however, we don't know what the future may hold. Perhaps supporter classes are much more important than we assumed.

- WSA Researcher Tigre -

So, this Sage entity… it gave me a skill directly. I wonder what else it can do, maybe Sage can slide healing back into my list. I need to get on its good side. Something tells me that it's not a normal system manager. It said that Red didn't realize that it would be assigned to me. I wonder if Sage is some kind of next-level admin or something like that.

"You good?" Fisban asks, giving me a concerned glance over her shades.

"Yeah, I got the map."

She lets out an audible sigh of relief before straightening again.

"Okay, where to?"

I roll my neck, giving it a nice crack, "Did you forget our deal?"

If there was an Olympic event for who could give the best side eye, she would take the gold, I'm certain of it. Doesn't matter though, I need answers, and I know that she's got some.

"Be quick about it," she says, folding her arms, but her eyes aren't on me, they're looking in the direction of Smith. He's still up to no good it would seem, and given the glance that he gave me earlier, he's still not happy about getting his face rearranged.

"What's going to happen to me after we finish this quest?" I ask, then turning to look at her, I finish with, "What are your orders?"

She doesn't answer for a few moments. Letting the questions hang there.

"I've been assigned as your handler," she finally replies, pulling off her shades and hanging them from her shirt. Her eyes are a deep brown; barely light enough to see the depths of the spindles in her irises in the filtered sunlight that drips through the thick canopy.

"What does that mean?"

"My evaluation of you moving forward has a direct correlation to your life expectancy."

"You're not going to kill me then, at least not yet…"

She nods.

"I'm surprised, given that I have the divine item."

"Well, your girlfriend made two very persuasive points to her mother."

I squint at her, "What were they?"

She raises an eyebrow, "This has definitely been more than two questions."

She's not wrong, I groan before nodding. Moving through the interface and pulling up my map… shit.

"What?"

"It's on another island," I say.

"How far?"

"Really far."

She nods, eyes tracing over to Smith once more, his group of goons is starting to gather.

"That going to be a problem?" I ask.

She actually grins at the remark, "Is that your attempt at an insult?"

"No…"

The grin falls and she sighs, "I have a feeling that some of us won't be finishing the quest."

Because she kills them or? It's hard to get a read on her. But I have the sneaking suspicion that there was more to her questions with Smith than just checking if his orders were official. Hopefully everyone can work together for the quest though. They can figure out their beef later.

"Alright, I'll get us something to take us to the objective, but it might take a few days or more to build."

"A few days?" I ask.

"Respec quests can last for months, you got lucky with your first quest. Buckle up buttercup."

Months… I can't be gone for months. People will notice that all of us are gone. How are they going to explain all of this away? Months until I can see Cortez again… my heart burns a little thinking about her. I guess I'm still butthurt that she didn't loop me in.

"Everyone gather on me!" Fisban yells.

It doesn't take long, most were within a hundred paces. There were a few stragglers on the edge of the island, on the taller, bluff side. Sharp rocks and smashing waves keep most away from it though. The majority of the island's edges are sandy beaches, there's lots of strange-looking wildlife in the waters too. It's weird how similar everything is to Earth though.

Over the next half hour, Fisban explains to everyone her plan. She wants us to make a raft and use it to sail the ocean. She even breaks down the individuals responsible for each and every task. Literally explaining in excruciating detail every single task.

Most of it isn't entirely new for us, we've all done the emergency water faring course, it's standard for anyone who deals with the gates. While it's not common to see suits and soldiers working on Gates together, it's not uncommon for them to do their own. They generally will oversee low-level gates for the World Supporter Association, so they can study the flora and fauna. They used to manage the higher gates as backup for the World Hunter Association. That's rarer lately though, it seems like the WHA does most things on its own these days.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Any questions?" she asks, opening the floor for the first time since she started telling us the plan.

"More of a statement," Smith says, taking a pause and shifting uncomfortably under Fisban's death glare, I don't think she wanted questions, let alone statements.

"Out with it," she says, her tone makes how she stands on it clear.

"I don't understand why we are leaving an island that has the three basic needs. Water, food, and shelter."

There's some grumbling from the group, not just Smith's people. But a couple of Fisban's rookies, like Thomas.

Smith almost cracks a grin at the opportunity to drill her, "No one has received a quest, therefore, in the event of a random wild rift, we are to hold our ground and establish a foothold."

So, they all think it's a wild rift that brought us here. Makes sense, I guess.

"Are you challenging me?" Fisban asks, but the way she does, it sends a shiver up my spine. It's almost like she asked him… do you want to die.

"No, ma'am," Smith says, a solid gulp later he finishes, "I'm just saying it's irregular logic, seeing as the rift might only activate here, and it might bring us back, only from here."

"There's also no indication that we will be returned to Earth. This might be our new home."

Everyone goes quiet at her words.

"Look, right now we have enough food and water. We don't know how long the tree fruit will be in season, we don't know what wildlife is poisonous, and we definitely don't know what the weather patterns are like here."

She points to one of the trees that she asked someone to dig the roots out from, they still haven't reached anything noteworthy.

"Trees that have adapted to extreme winds have very deep roots."

Damn, she really is like Lieutenant Tenny. That's definitely something that I never would have thought to check. The group is still quiet, even Smith.

"There aren't any new growth trees in the area either, which likely means that we are in hurricane season for this part of the world. We need to get to a larger landmass that we can establish a legitimate foothold on."

Smith squints at her, "That's all speculation, I think that…"

"I don't care what you think, you're not in charge."

His jaw flexes, but he doesn't speak against her.

"This isn't a democracy. As per UWO regulations, I am still in charge of every single person here. Don't make me repeat it," Fisban says, pulling the shades from her shirt and putting them back on.

"Roger, ma'am," Smith says, his eyebrow twitches though. He looks pissed.

***

Days have passed, and Tran never did get the runs from the mango coconuts. After a day, we all started eating them. It's weird, over the last few days, the group has become divided between Smith and Fisban's group.

Tran, Barlow, Gilroy, and I have been sticking with Fisban's group, seeing as the ones that tortured Barlow are in Smith's group. I'm getting a bad vibe about the situation though. No fights have broken out, and the worst injury was someone cutting their hand on a sharp rock we're using to cut the trees down with. The raft is coming along nicely though. Fisban is an excellent taskmaster.

"Have you seen Thomas?" Fisban asks, her eyes are uneasy as she looks toward Smith's group.

"No," I say.

"Do me a favor and walk the perimeter of the island, if you notice anything strange, let me know."

"Like what?" I ask, what the hell is she on about?

She gives me an eye raise, "You'll know."

"Roger, ma'am," I sigh, pulling my dirty shirt over my head.

"Take one of your team with you, just in case," she says, pushing the strand of loose hair to the side.

I grab Tran, because he's the closest to me, and quickly explain the request to him. It'll take a little more than an hour for us to walk the full perimeter.

"Yo, did you ask Sage what the mango coconuts are called?" Tran asks.

He's been asking lots of questions that are extremely mundane. Sometimes though, Sage gets a wild hair and starts talking at great length about it. So far, our rapport is… well, whatever it is. Occasionally it asks me to examine something more closely. Other times it'll start dripping knowledge.

When we get about halfway through the walk, I get a strange and familiar feeling.

[ 1 x Wither Charge Gained ]

It only takes a moment for me to realize who the memories belong to. Special Agent Thomas… he's dead. I look around, but I don't see him. His memories are jumbled, but I see flashes of him talking to Smith, then darkness, then the feeling like I'm being strangled. He was murdered… I think Smith or one of his goons killed Thomas.

Sage's voice enters my mind.

Ah, a Wither Charge. I've always enjoyed the Witherbrand class. There is another name by which it's known, have you heard it before?

My mind's spinning at the revelation about Thomas, but I need to keep gleaning information from Sage. There's no telling when it'll tell me something important.

"What's the other name?"

Necromancer's bane. Because, it's so powerful against them, that it renders the majority of their skills obsolete.

"How so?" I ask, still somewhat surprised that Sage is actually telling me something useful. Does that mean I could fight a Lich with it? More of Thomas's memories peel against the wall of sanity that I've struggled to build. Memories of when he first joined the suits. The pride in his chest. Then it switches back to his death, the horror, the fear… then nothing.

Sage speaks again.

Necromancers are an extremely feared class, however, comparatively they are knockoffs, only able to manipulate souls. It is for that reason that Witherbrands are the third most feared base class that is still allowed in the games. Witherbrands are charge makers and converters. Classes that convert souls into charges do so by stepping into the realm of the divine. In truth, Witherbrand was meant to be removed from the class lists many cycles ago.

"Why wasn't it?"

A covenant token was used to bend the rule around it.

"Covenant token?" that sounds important.

Do you see that small creature caught in the tide pool?

Avoiding the question, guess Sage doesn't want to divulge what it is.

"What about it?"

I'll tell you what a covenant token is, if you eat it, raw.

"It looks poisonous."

It's an Alcororian Aleta and it most definitely is. You have a nearly ninety percent chance of expiring if you eat it.

I blink, wishing there was somewhere to look to give it a what the fuck face.

"Why do you want me to die?"

Curiosity mostly. The log around your first death is heavily redacted, I want to know why, furthermore, I want to know why some parts of your skill I can't even see. Your entire existence is a mystery. Dying should help me unravel it. Aside from all of that, I am somewhat bored and curious about what class you'll roll next.

"Dude, I'm not just going to die because you're bored."

Then I guess you'll have to wait to find out what a Covenant Token is.

"Fair enough," I shrug and then turn, Tran's looking at me funny, I forgot that he can't hear Sage.

"Sage wants you to die?" Tran asks.

"Uh, he's just bored, I don't think he's serious."

Don't assign me a gender, meatsack, I transcend such definitions.

"You literally sound like a very posh British dude. Ever since you read Earth's complete file a few days ago, you've been talking differently."

No response.

"Yo, Sage, what's that fruit called?"

"He's not going to answer you, bro," I sigh, gripping my shaking hand tighter, "Besides, we have other shit to deal with."

"What?"

"Thomas is dead."

Tran blinks.

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