Chapter 53.3: The Son of Man

  “A Crux, once set, can never be changed.” Felix ran the fabric of his shirt around the inside of the Archimedes cup to dry it.

  “My Crux…”

  Felix turned to face Leonhart. Ace could sense her holding her breath, saw her hands ball into fists on her thighs.

  “When I first realised my Shift, all I had in mind was…” Felix’s gaze dropped to the floor beneath his feet. “I was protecting Leonhart,” he gulped. “All I wanted to do was to protect you, Eulie.”

  The words hung thick in the seminar room. Ace’s skin prickled as his hair stood on end.

  Protect Leonhart. Not “protect everyone.” Not “protect people.” The specificity of Felix’s Crux was a guillotine blade: they were either on one side or the other, and Felix had carved the line so narrow that only one person in the entire world could stand within it.

  “Oh God,” Ace breathed involuntarily, the horror of the realisation settling into his bones.

  “Why?” Leonhart whispered, barely audible beyond those sitting closest.

  “You could have—” Kazuya choked. “You could have killed us all?”

  “If not for Dante’s Shift, I would have.” Felix's shoulders sagged, and he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, as if he could push the statement back inside.

  “And that’s the truth.”

  Everyone’s eyes turned to Dante. “Should two realities clash in a given space at any given moment, the output of both will decrease,” he explained. “Unless one overpowers the other.”

  A loud, pointed cough from Shun cut through Dante's explanation. “What a terribly worded explanation, not what I’d expected from you, Higashino.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I’m surprised, given that you were quite academically gifted.”

  One end of Dante’s lips ticked inscrutably, but he held his silence for Shun to say his piece. “There is one and only one reality—the one created by the God Hands, the world we're standing in, living and breathing in right now.” His hands swept through the air in a wide, theatrical arc. “The term 'Reality Shifts' is coined specifically to describe the subversion of this reality. Not the creation of multiple realities.”

  Dante inclined his head slightly. “You're right. Let me rephrase.” He paused, choosing his words more carefully this time. “Should two Shifts attempt to subvert the same space at the same moment, both subversions will weaken—unless one overpowers the other entirely.” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “But a Shift only persists as long as the manifestor can sustain the subversion.”

  Shun let out an audible ‘hmph’ and reclined in his chair. “And what about the Shifts, sensei?” he crooned in a mocking, high-pitched voice. “Are Shifts immutable, sensei?”

  Felix's fist punched down on the table with enough force to make everyone jump. Nova leapt into Dante's arms, ears pinned back against its head.

  “Enough!” Felix's voice was raw, nearly breaking. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

  “Gentlemen.” Dr. Farid's voice brooked no argument. “This isn't the time and place for such squabbles.”

  “But I’m just asking a question—”

  “Shun, please remain quiet.” Dr. Farid did not even meet Shun’s eyes. “Otherwise, I'll make sure you find yourself with a crabbier bookkeeper.”

  “As though the Treasurer isn’t stingy enough already.”

  Dr. Farid's overt threat did the trick as Shun settled into his seat without that smug grin of his. Felix remained standing, his knuckles still white against the table's surface. For a moment, Ace thought he would sidestep the question entirely. But, through gritted teeth, Felix answered Shun’s antagonistic question.

  “Shifts are not immutable.”

  A bitter smile ghosted across Felix’s lips. “I mentioned that I've been to inquiries—more than I care to count. They've all tested it, documented it, analysed it from every angle, past and present.” His voice dropped lower. “They also confirmed that it was... stronger than I remembered. Much stronger. The radius of effect, the temperature—” He cut himself off abruptly. “But there were no flames. Visible ones at least.”

  Felix held out his hand, his knuckles still red from when he punched the table. His fingers flexed, and Essence gathered into a concentrated sphere that hovered just before his face, obscuring his expression. It glowed a cool, calm white, suspended between him and the others like a barrier. “There's something I haven't told anyone,” he said. “About ten years ago, I had part of my Golden Core removed as punishment.”

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  Ace lowered his gaze while Kazuya gasped next to him. Removed, huh? he thought, not even questioning the possibility of such a procedure. A punishment, really?

  At first, Ace had no doubt where that piece of Felix's core went. But then his eyes flicked to Dante, who sat perfectly still, his expression unchanged. If Dante had Felix's core fragment, would there not be something? A tell, a reaction, anything?

  Ace's certainty wavered, and Felix gave him no time to think. Felix’s fingers curled inward, and the sphere began to compress. As it shrank, its luminosity intensified with each size reduction. “When you reduce the size of the core, you create a bottleneck—the Essence has to flow through a smaller opening, so it accelerates.”

  Felix's hand tightened further, forcing the orb smaller still. The ball blazed brighter, casting sharp shadows across the room. “But with acceleration comes a reduction in pressure, preventing my core from... exploding. Everything is stable enough that I can still function. But the concentration…”

  The sphere was now no larger than a marble, but the light was searing. Ace turned his head away from the piercing light that stabbed deep into the back of his eyeballs.

  Felix opened his palm slowly, and the concentrated sphere dissipated, the light fading. Even then, dark spots still danced in Ace’s eyes. “With more Essence leaving me,” Felix said, staring at his empty hand, “means every ability, every Shift I manifest will be magnitudes stronger than it would have been if I had my old core.”

  This is… It dawned upon Ace. The Continuity equation! The Venturi Effect!

  What were the odds that mundane physics and mystical energy would follow identical laws? That the same equations describing the flow of fluids would govern the power flowing from a Golden Core? The precision of it was undeniable. He had dismissed the God Hands then as sorcerers, throwing a blanket on their existence to give it shape.

  The God Hands were real. And they had built everything with terrifying intentionality.

  Ace felt bile rise in his throat. In a universe this precisely calibrated, where supernatural power obeyed physical law, and every element fit together with mathematical perfection, there could be no accidents. No random chance. The God Hands—those perfect architects and agents—had decided he would be made a sorcerer, an Aberrant.

  Ace swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room. Everyone, except for Dante and Dr. Farid, was still focused on Felix. He pressed his back against the chair, using the physical sensation to anchor himself.

  “Any questions for Felix?” Dr. Farid asked, looking around. “Ace?”

  Ace wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself then, but he pulled one straight from his ass anyway. “D-Do all the really strong sorcerers have their own Shifts? Like a Rank 0 sorcerer would definitely have one, am I correct?”

  Oh God, I sound so stupid.

  “Wrong.” Shun cracked a laugh. “All of you misunderstand this whole grading system that we use. It isn’t based on the strength of a sorcerer but on the threat they pose to the average phantom in a certain period. The sheer diversity of Wills and attitudes necessitates this system, as some Wills that seem weak can be dangerous when exploited correctly. On top of that…”

  Shun raised his pointer finger, which sported a massively yellowed nail. “The strength of phantoms waxes and wanes over time. During periods of disaster, disease, or political unrest, they grow stronger. So, my algorithm recalibrates previous grades to account for these fluctuations and flags any sorcerers who may need reassessment. Logical, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, right.” Felix rolled his eyes.

  “But to answer your question,” Shun smirked. “Not every Rank 0 sorcerer has a Shift. You should see the absolutely pathetic ones we have on file. I would say that these are anomalies…”

  “Thank yo—” Dr. Farid began.

  “But those are minor anomalies,” Shun cut in, waving a dismissive hand. “If you want to talk about real exceptions to the system—the ones that don't even fit into letter-grading—then you're looking at special grades. Supremes, Spectrals, Edgerunners, and Aberrants.”

  Edgerunners? Ace thought. That’s new.

  “First Lady Meng is a Spectral,” Dante remarked.

  “Right, all of the Mengs are Spectral. Men and women,” Shun said. “It’s a class reserved for them.”

  “Huh? The men, too?” Kazuya raised her brow. “Aren’t they all Ancils?”

  “Yeah,” Shun said. “But they can dick down any woman on the streets and produce Meng babies.” He made an obscene gesture with his hands. “Fifty-fifty chance of them being female.”

  “Shun!” Dr. Farid scolded. “This is a sacred space for learning!”

  “They aren’t kids anymore!” Shun protested. “Why don’t you tell them about your triple-crowning if you want to preserve the sacredness of this classroom, huh?"

  “Triple-crowning?” Kazuya asked.

  “Dr. Farid here is the only one in history to nurture a batch of students who all have Reality Shifts,” answered Shun.

  Dr. Farid lowered his gaze, his voice growing solemn. “Being triple-crowned is not an honour. There is a price to pay,” he sighed heavily. “My wish was for my students to live a life of their choice, but it seems that I was too idealistic.”

  Shun laughed out loud, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. His haughty laugh sounded like sandpaper on rocks. “I see why you’ve gathered them here today,” he stated simply. “We are the sons of Man, Farid. Try as you might, you can’t deny that we love following the drag paths made by the testicles of our forefathers, can you?”

  Ace only understood the first half of Shun’s crass words. The rest he chose not to dwell on.