“Are you alright, sir?” Adam asked his boss with concern and glanced around the area. Butlers were in the shadows, feeling sorry and hardly included. Five were on the ground, collapsed but alive, while the rest, apart from one, managed the maintenance. The ground was in tatters, a ring of dry clay and dust on the thick, reinforced concrete. At the center was the chair and the bloodied, unconscious William.

  Aside from Adam were a couple of Walkers that he asked for. If something went wrong, they would fix it or take action, even if it meant taking drastic measures.

  It no longer seemed necessary.

  “Why the fuck are you here, dumbfuck!? It was getting so much better than everything else. Leave me! Restart the process immediately!” Hough shouted at him like a kid.

  “Sir, it is long gone. Done for,” Adam argued.

  “Everything was going well!” Hough wasn't listening. “Leave us alone, boy. I am performing Awakening. New blood won't come on its own. You aren't meant to be here. This is my place,” he stated words that Adam knew quite well. He was ready for a scolding and power tripping, yet Adam was doubtful it was right at this moment. Many words were no longer proper.

  “You were gone for ten minutes,” Adam said his main concern by approaching Hough, whose hands weren't looking right, but Hough didn't give a shit.

  “Hm? Ten meaningless minutes, you say? Alright. So what does it matter? Should I repeat myself? I can be here for four days straight if I want to, and no one would bother me about it. Let alone you... of all people. Bah! Now, get out and those Emb... Walkers away, otherwise I will scold you much more than you would ever wish for!” Hough continued rambling, ignoring the wounds on his head, the blood on his coat, or his peeled skin. This wasn't even that important, though he noticed his hands, which seemed burned and weakened considerably.

  “You are injured,” Adam pointed out.

  “Then get me bandages and restart the process! I know we have abundant flow for these cases, and... wait. Why the fuck did you pull the knob back, eh?” Hough scolded everyone with an unreasonable tone, even before getting any clear picture of what had happened.

  There was nothing obvious around him. All those Vectors disappeared before he knew it. So did the distinct feeling of something otherworldly that he believed to be of the highest caliber.

  “I haven't touched anything off, sir,” Adam argued, since he got here a few moments ago and had never done anything. As he went out of his way to come inside, he failed to recognize the worst outcome. Getting to that cage was impossible, even after asking those Walkers. Before they even tried their best, those Crimson Vectors were already fading, rendering their attempts unnecessary.

  Shaking Adam away, Hough looked at the one source of his marvels. William was close, checked by the military Walkers, who examined him and his arm. They noticed a vortex of Vectors, followed by shimmering lights, wounds, and an arm that seemed beyond repair. It sent shivers down their spines.

  “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Hough ran to them without caring for his wounds and slapped and kicked their backs. He uttered these words as if he wanted to kill them outright.

  “Rule number four: if the First Head is injured, the onlookers have an alternative way to force things. Accidents can happen, you know, sir Hough,” a rough-looking Walker in a military uniform said, taking this old man's rumbling for barks of a child, but even then, he had to be respectful. He knew better, that's why.

  “Right... Righ! Of course, you say that. You didn't know anything because—bullcrap! I have full authority over this place. Not you. Take your Emblems with you or leave them behind as you get lost along this host!” Hough made his ultimatum clear.

  Those Walkers swore they weren't before a normal person, but rather before a seasoned Walker who wasn't any less menacing than those hefty Pillars.

  “It seems the situation and the Emblem have stabilized so that we will take our leave. Proceed with the new hosts as you see fit, and go at the fastest pace possible. We don't want to waste too long,” the military Walker ordered and walked with his colleagues away. There was no point in further argument since Hough appeared relatively fine, all things considered.

  Hough snorted as they left, glanced at Adam, who wanted to leave as well because nothing good should come out of this event. For the better or worse, he treated his wounds before leaving.

  “Bloody sky,” Hough shook his head when he was finally alone. “My head hurts just from dealing with those people. That's why I like it when things are not alive. Emblems are special. They are good and great!” He patted his head and face, giggling in helpless insanity and memory of those Vectors and... that demon.

  He will have to make a great picture of everything. Alas, it was not mandated by law. He had a job to do. After a quick change for a more professional appearance, he checked on William, who was still there.

  He was on the ground, close to the rougher chair, not moving, and with bloody thin mist everywhere.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Hough grabbed papers and crouched aside. “Subject 130. Senseless. Eyes and sensory deficits. Consciousness gone. Physical injuries are: highlighted, scarred right arm, cracked bones to the fifth tier, evolved body systems around the Emblem, while the whole... Wait. What am I doing?! I am not a doctor... but...” Hough slapped his face and pulled a switch aside.

  Shutting down the Accelerator was something he should've done a long time ago. It didn't seem to matter because William was far, far outside of this flow.

  Monitors were also in shambles, creating the usual nonsense in a couple of glances. Hough no longer questioned their process, given the obvious deficits he had recognized. This wasn't a matter of Rank 1, but Rank 0 and its implications. It should have continued until stability, yet even after all of his protocols or outputs, it did just fine, which was baffling.

  Standing aside the monitors, Hough wished to cry and slap them aside. So he did it with the keyboard, showing his frustration and wasting even more time.

  Then he glanced at the mirror, cursed out loud, and felt that the readings were messy beyond his understanding, yet even then, there was the thing. A number. Even if the readings were messy and improbable, they had to happen either way.

  “Considering how inconsistent this Host and process were, what do those final results even matter? It tells... tells... what?”

  75 was there under a bunch of calculative and emulating charts.

  “Huh. 75? Three-quarters of the hundred, yet... not in the right category? Don't freaking tell me the machine rounded the inconsistent numbers, or didn't account for the later phases? Fuck... Fuck. Fuck!” Hough slapped his face against the table, but couldn't do anything against these results. What was once done was... done. It was impossible to do this again, but one could learn a lot by researching the process countless times. It was questionable how much was good. Bashing at it headlessly was not optimal.

  “Hm. I will review these screenings and calculations over and over again if it means the end of it! I swear I will see the truth. Now, let's publicize this nonsense and get it over with. For those impatient Emblems over there, they will fight over this terrific Host!” Hough said and pushed buttons to conclude this madness.

  In a bit, everyone beyond the mirrors looked at not-so-shocking results. They were watchful, not so ignorant as to take it at face value. Still, many consdier there was too much commotion over... well, nothing to show for it.

  Grunts and laughs echoed in the room, and bets around the 90s ended up sounding beyond silly. 75. It was a quantitative difference like a hill and a mountain, which disappointed plenty of people, because they trusted Hough's calculations. Contrary to their feelings, a joke of the century was not among their calculations, but few would know that.

  Kaufman did, though he kept smiling because he expected and knew that silly numbers couldn't capture even sillier things. For him, the results weren't important at all. Perhaps this result was shocking in itself, as 75 was still an extraordinary number. Whatever the actual value was, how it happened was separate and enough for Kaufman to find satisfaction.

  He looked to his right, where Yondu still remained standing, and Kaufman swore he wasn't as flabbergasted as he assumed. Those nerve-wracking scenes took a long time to crack, crawl, and change, yet whatever went on with Hough or in that red cage was not for them.

  The only one was Mi-Yung, whose appearance was not one bit fair and fine at the moment. She was out there in the darkness, overlooking everything with her keen sight. Her eyes shone in a luster of white gold, her expression was pained and sweaty, and whatever she felt and learned wasn't obscured by that mirror.

  It was her advantage and her prideful choice of what people might want from her or William. Too bad she won't give them anything.

  “It... disappeared,” she whispered and blinked, leaving two bloody teardrops on her face.

  “How about releasing whatever you were trying to do? You look tired, so... how about letting it go?” an old voice said, coming from behind her. There was an old man in a robe, hiding in the darkness. It was not Kaufman, which would add to her worry. It was still Old Dream who came when the process was over, and like most, he followed the rules, even if he wished for some exceptions. There was no need to get personal. Tom Hough disliked it for various reasons, and Old Dream supposed it was right.

  “S-shut up, old man. What do you want?” Mi-Yung muttered and forced herself to be calmer. It took her everything to glimpse past that ridiculous cage. It was more about walking from a very vulnerable position, and her Emblem was duller than ever.

  “Have you seen something good? Something doubtful? I think many people are like you. They love their eyes so much, yet they fear what they see, what their consequences are, and fear it much more afterwards. You did see, but again, you are you. Songs.”

  “Hmph! I won't tell. Get lost with your tries, old man. You shouldn't even be here.” Mi-Yung said through sealed teeth, and at last, stopped her Skill completely. Her breathing was still a little rough, giving her beautiful face a new sort of expression.

  “No one knows I am here, but knows you are here, so I am curious.” Old Dream asserted with a laugh and patted his chest. He deserved this after what he had done in that silo, and there was no doubt Mi-Yung didn't know that, but she was still a freaking Song. Old Dream knew he should be open.

  “And I am unbothered. Farewell, I won't waste time on this because you will want to waste my time later. Oh, wait. There isn't a time for this because of the Academy's involvement and what I gambled on, right? I am sure old freaks like you know that already, so apologies for wasting your time.” Mi-Yung then walked forward, leaving Old Dream in a corner.

  He smiled, touching his old chin. “She is a tough girl to go this far. Karma is that vast, or is her conviction with Viktor stronger than I thought? How? Nevermind. 75 Affinity is good enough for most, but would they dare to snatch him? Kaufman might be the same, or maybe it won't be very hot until Rank 2 or 3. That makes it more... ready. Righ. Right. What happened today is already making this old man curious and older. An interesting generation has been born once again, but how far can this one go before it cracks apart like any other? I will watch it. Like always.”

  Then, Old Dream disappeared, leaving his curiosity for a better time. The Examination was under the full control of the Assembly and various organizations, and he was its final, most influential arbiter. There, Mi-Yung will talk regardless of her dealings with the Academy and so on. She had no other choice if she wanted to give William the best chances possible. That was debatable; what could be even the best for this sort of freak?

  If anything, Old Dream believed Celeste was better off in this regard, yet could this one be almost equal? He feared it a little. The source of the unknown was nerve-wracking, and he was here for it.