Chapter 8

  Give to Receive. Receive to Give.

  “Lunch break! Lunch break!”

  A drone shot into the tunnel, its twin ringed rotors vibrating like the turbines of a miniature starship. The vertical frame of its body connected the two engines. Bluish diodes glowed within the slit running down its face, sweeping the area to orient itself. Two mechanical arms extended from its sides, built to haul heavy loads.

  “Lunch break! Lunch break!” it repeated before pivoting and flying back the way it had come.

  “Let’s go grab our lunch, then we’ll head to our usual meeting spot,” Linart suggested.

  Aaronn nodded. They made their way back through the tunnel and crossed the central platform. Guards were handing out sandwiches to the prisoners.

  After collecting their portions, Aaronn followed his teammate through the mine. They reached an old staircase descending into the depths. A weathered sign read: Level -1 — Enter at Your Own Risk.

  “Are we allowed to go down here?” Aaronn asked.

  “Yeah. You’ll see—hardly anyone comes. They let us, since it’s almost the only freedom we’ve got. Drones monitor the place constantly, but we’ll be left alone. And besides… no one’s ever escaped this mine. They’re pretty confident.”

  They entered a vast cavern half-submerged in darkness. A cool draft replaced the oppressive air of the upper levels. If the higher floors had made Aaronn feel trapped in a sealed chamber, this place, by contrast, gave him a sense of absolute freedom.

  At the far end, a great white beam illuminated part of the cave. It pierced through a gaping vault and struck the ceiling above. Blue drone lights swept across the stone.

  “An old crackmender burrow?” Aaronn asked.

  “Exactly.”

  He recognized it at once. Crackmender droppings were what emitted that intense glow from the depths. They always built their burrows according to a precise logic. The entrance and exit formed two circular vaults carved in relief from the rock, receding inward through several concentric rings, like an inverted camera lens.

  They approached the burrow’s exit. Inside the circle, the stone was perfectly smooth. Beyond it, the cavern dropped into a yawning abyss.

  A faint grimace crossed Aaronn’s face.

  “Yeah, no sane person would venture down there,” Linart said, noticing. “They sealed all the galleries the crackmenders dug.”

  “But they left the droppings at the bottom,” Aaronn replied with a light laugh. “Say, Manve?n said he was nicknamed ‘the Eyes.’ I’m guessing he has some special ability connected to them?”

  “He does. There’s no point trying to escape through here—he’d see you. If you honor our deal, I’ll tell you more.”

  A soft female voice interrupted them from behind.

  “Linart? Who’s that?”

  The two boys turned simultaneously.

  The beam of light cut diagonally across the young woman’s face, revealing one deeply black iris, brows of the same shade, and half of her delicate pink lips. Her long blond hair fell to the middle of her shoulder blades.

  “Milla!” Linart called with a broad smile, dropping down to the ground. “This is Aaronn. He’s the one who tried to escape yesterday.”

  “The one who can walk on air?”

  “Yeah, that’s him! I offered him a deal. He tells us everything he knows—including about his powers—and in exchange we help him escape.”

  She kept a doubtful expression, almost uncertain. Aaronn joined them and extended his hand.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Aaronn Karselfeni.”

  She eyed his hand warily before asking her teammate, “Are you sure we can trust him? W-we don’t even know who he is.”

  “I’ve got a good instinct for these things,” Linart replied. “Trust me.”

  She didn’t seem convinced. She hesitated several times before finally shaking Aaronn’s hand, encouraged by Linart’s confident smile.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Lunamilla.”

  Aaronn returned her greeting with a friendly smile. The two of them made an unexpected duo. Who were they, really?

  They sat on the inner edge of the burrow’s exit to eat. Linart recounted everything Aaronn had told him.

  “And you believe him?” Lunamilla asked.

  “More than the alternative. Have you ever seen an Eleusian walk on air?”

  “Maybe he’s a disguised Chosen? Did that occur to you?”

  “One who also wields Grufus’s power?”

  Lunamilla paused mid-bite. She seemed to reject, with her whole being, the idea that Aaronn came from another planet.

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  “I’m right here, you know,” Aaronn interjected awkwardly.

  “I’m convinced it’s false, Linart,” she continued, ignoring him. “Why would he suddenly appear on our planet? And my sister would have warned me if that were true.”

  “That proves nothing!” Linart shot back. “We’ve been stuck here six months. How would she warn you?”

  Silence fell over Lunamilla. Her mistrust was understandable. If anything, it was Linart’s credulity that surprised Aaronn.

  “Fine. I’ll end your doubts right now,” Aaronn declared, stepping down.

  He extended his hand. Metallic clicks echoed through the cavern. Linart and Lunamilla stared as fragments of metal materialized before him, assembling into a flashlight. Aaronn switched it on.

  “To begin with, I possess a power of creation. Don’t misunderstand—it’s not exactly like Prince Magnus Castus, the king’s son.”

  “How do you know Magnus?” Lunamilla demanded, suspicion sharpening her voice.

  “I fought him. And I lost.”

  Her gaze darkened slightly, but she remained silent.

  “I’ll explain everything,” Aaronn continued. “But I promised to speak about my powers first… My creation ability isn’t truly one.”

  Lunamilla frowned. Linart’s head twitched in confusion. Aaronn tossed him the flashlight, and Linart shone it back at him.

  “‘Giving’ and ‘taking,’” Aaronn said, miming a pushing motion and then a pulling one. “There’s an irreversible phenomenon in our universe: the law of circulation. Everything is in constant motion. Nothing stands still. You can’t inhale before you exhale; you can’t take without first giving.”

  They stared at him, wide-eyed, their meals forgotten.

  “It’ll make sense,” he added with a laugh. “Watch.”

  Silver coins materialized in his palm.

  “Are those real?” Linart asked.

  “Yes. In a way. But they’ll vanish when I stop sustaining them. Now imagine your body as an ocean. When you give, a hole forms in the water. The ocean rushes to fill it. For example: Linart does me a favor, and I pay him with these coins.”

  He handed them over. Linart hesitated, then accepted the imaginary payment.

  “Logically, I’ve filled the hole by paying fairly. But if I hadn’t, there would remain a void for Linart—and I’d have something extra. That’s when the universe intervenes. Whatever form it takes, Linart’s hole would be filled, and my surplus reclaimed. The best part? The universe always repays in abundance.”

  The coins dematerialized in Linart’s hands.

  “I can also give love.”

  Suddenly, Aaronn stepped toward Lunamilla, walking on air. A charming smile curved his lips as he leaned close, brushing her cheek with warm breath. His fingers trailed through the tips of her hair as he whispered:

  “I think you’re very beautiful.”

  He drifted back to his original spot. Lunamilla had no time to think. She’d been swept up in his charm, warmth rising to her cheeks, dissolving her doubts and leaving her flustered.

  “You’re all red,” Linart teased, shining the light at her with a laugh.

  She repositioned herself on the vault’s edge, ignoring him.

  “That still doesn’t explain how you create objects,” she said, her voice much softer now.

  Aaronn raised a finger to his lips.

  “I’ll get there. The foundations matter. Where I come from, those who share my power are called Users of the Will. The Will is a latent ability that allows one to shape reality by leveraging the laws of the universe. Through experience, a unique power forms—the cornerstone of one’s creative abilities. Mine is to accelerate the universe’s ‘giving’ and ‘taking.’”

  Stars lit up in Linart’s eyes.

  “Normally,” Aaronn continued, “you don’t know when what you’ve given will return. My power speeds up the process. I can use it passively or actively. That’s how I intend to restore balance on Eleusia.”

  “Restore balance?” Lunamilla echoed, her voice deepening slightly. “I… I don’t think… Then…”

  She struggled with her words.

  “Come on, accept it,” Linart urged. “You told me life exists beyond this planet. You know it for a fact. Why resist?”

  “It’s just… it’s all so sudden.”

  Aaronn pressed on.

  “There’s more. Users of the Will classify their abilities into two types: material manifestations and spiritual manifestations. My creation ability is material; my unique power is spiritual—a miracle. To create objects, I shape my aura—my life energy—into form and properties.”

  “I don’t fully grasp it,” Linart admitted. “But if I understand correctly, giving works in our favor with you?”

  “Exactly. Passively, I accelerate the universe’s circulation. And I can share that phenomenon with those close to me—if they accept it.”

  Lunamilla seemed lost in thought. Then her gaze hardened with resolve.

  “We’re part of the Resistance,” she confessed.

  Aaronn’s eyes widened.

  “Really? You seem a bit young.”

  “We’re eighteen,” Linart said. “Joined two years ago. How old are you?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “What does the Resistance aim to achieve?” Aaronn asked.

  Lunamilla glanced at Linart for permission. He nodded.

  “We want to end the oppression of the Chosen. The king’s oppression.”

  “I see. That’s noble.”

  “Yes. But our solution is violence, struggle, war. My sister believes in a peaceful world. One where violence isn’t necessary. She’s certain of it. Over generations, our true history was lost. Few remember the words carved on the Angels’ Stele: ‘…Freedom shall come from a world too distant for a Man who possesses nothing. And from a world within reach for the one who lacks nothing…’ The previous king built the shield around the planet. He feared judgment from the heavens. He believed that if a Messiah were to deliver us, he could only come from space.”

  Aaronn interpreted those words differently. And Lunamilla’s sister intrigued him.

  “Who is your sister, Luna?”

  She flushed at the nickname.

  “I… I can’t tell you. It’s for her protection.”

  “Fair enough. I won’t force you. But in my opinion, she’s both right and wrong. A peaceful world is possible. But you can’t obtain what you desire—because the universe only returns what you give. You must become the source of what you wish to receive. It sounds contradictory, but it’s true. If you want freedom, you must be free first.”

  Lunamilla leapt down, cheeks burning—this time with anger.

  “Who are you to insult my sister like that!? Do you know what she’s done for this world!?”

  “Calm down, Milla,” Linart said, dropping beside her.

  She ignored him and stormed toward the stairs.

  “Wait!” Aaronn caught her wrist. “I didn’t mean to insult her! Her words are noble. I just want to help. I know how to achieve what she wants—but I need you to take me to the leader of the Resistance.”

  “Why?”

  “Through him, I can reach the people of Eleusia. Bring them freedom.”

  “How?”

  “I can… you can… awaken. The Chosen aren’t different from you. Every Eleusian can reach the same level of awakening.”

  “What?” Linart’s voice cracked upward. “How can you know that?”

  “The power of the Will slumbers in every living being. If I explained my abilities, it’s because you can develop them too! The Resistance shouldn’t focus on Eile?n, but on the people of Eleusia. If they awaken to their power, they won’t be subject to the king.”

  He released Lunamilla’s arm.

  “Trust me. I’m on your side.”

  Linart stepped beside his teammate. Both looked hesitant. Aaronn’s request placed a heavy burden on them.

  “Honestly, I didn’t have a plan involving you,” Linart admitted. “You intrigued me. I just wanted to help—and gather useful information. Taking you to our leader could harm the Resistance. Even if I want to believe you, doubt remains.”

  “I understand,” Aaronn said quickly. “But let me prove I’m not your enemy! Your power won’t come from me—it’ll come from the universe, from yourselves! I’m only a messenger. Try what I’ve told you, and you’ll see.”

  Linart exhaled deeply, then inhaled.

  “Sorry, Milla. But I want to see where this leads.”

  She turned to him, worried.

  “Alright,” Linart said. “I’ll explain why we’re here. Then, if we manage to use what you’ve taught us, you’ll come with us.”

  He extended his hand.

  A grateful smile spread across Aaronn’s face.

  “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”