"You're not breaking the stereotype you know? A feisty red-headed fire-user. How original."
Cosmo shook his hand loosely after releasing Tyson's before retrieving his A.D.A. and pocketing it.
"I know I said you could use your flames whenever I'm around to shut it off, but with you shooting it all willy-nilly like that, I can't help feeling a little abused."
The scales composing Tyson's uniform shimmered, vibrating into fine ripples that shed droplets of water until he was dry. Running his hands through his red hair to clear his vision, he raised a brow.
"What's with that goofy grin on your face?"
Cosmo touched his cheek, tracing the faint curl at the corner of his mouth.
"Ah, I didn't notice. I suppose I'm just giddy about something that happened earlier. Didn't think such a shallow part of me still existed."
"Never mind. I don't think I care anymore. Let's just get this over with."
With that abrupt exchange, Tyson braced himself for battle once more.
"Calm down for a second. Here, take a walk with me."
Cosmo gestured toward the pond, and in the next instant, a sudden burst of air sent Tyson skidding across its surface.
He flew across the pond until colliding with one of the massive flowers. The pad tilting as it drifted with the others. Clutching the slick surface, he steadied himself.
Slowly following, Cosmo hopped from one pad to the next, his expression almost like he was tracking the path of a stone he'd skipped.
"I won't say who," he began, landing lightly on a pad a few feet from Tyson, "but someone brought it to my attention that you're not too pleased with the way I keep getting you wet."
He crouched slightly, hopping repeatedly on the pad's soft surface, and testing its buoyancy.
"Of course, there's no way I could've known that since no one told me beforehand, despite how many times I've done it. Who could blame me, right?"
Tyson's eyes narrowed.
"What are you getting at?"
"Do you see your silence regarding your own safety as mature? If anything, aren't you doing the exact same thing as Rita?"
"Of course not. Whatever happens to me is a result of my own weakness. That's how I've always lived my life."
"Is that the case for what happens to your friends as well?"
"…"
"Who died and made you captain?"
Tyson sucked his teeth and exhaled in exasperation.
"Somebody has to be responsible for their safety. I wouldn't mind at all if it wasn't me."
"But it's you because what? You're stronger? If you haven't noticed, you're in a more vulnerable state than anyone else."
"You think I don't know that? I can't even control my own flames in this boundary without help. What reason would I have to believe I'm in a better state than anybody?!"
Unbeknownst to him, the flower he clung to, and the luminescent core at its heart, had begun to smolder. Then, just as quietly, the flames were extinguished.
"You misunderstood. What I meant is that you're the one who worries me the most."
For an instant, Tyson's guard faltered, but he quickly straightened again.
"Of course, since you've had to keep your eyes on me whenever I—"
"Not that… In fact, I relish it. You're not the only ones striving to grow stronger, you know? I've improved through you, too."
Every game, every regimen, every mock battle, none were merely tools to sharpen his officers. He found growth in himself as well.
Experience, he had in abundance, but through them he discovered new angles he'd never seen before.
"Look, the real reason I keep tossing you into water is because your pent-up flames are seeping out unconsciously."
As he said this, he gestured toward the flower beside Tyson. Its edges were singed black, its surface faintly blistered.
Tyson's eyes widened.
"This is…"
"You're afraid of your flames… aren't you?" Cosmo asked evenly. "Does it have something to do with the day you were born?"
A long silence followed.
The drifting pads had gone still. The pond's ripples faded until the water turned glassy, revealing the pale floor and the transparent stalks beneath.
"How did you find out?" Tyson stepped forward without realizing it.
"I've always known. I met Natasha often when I was younger, she had 'business' with the Nebula branch more times than I could count."
"My Aunt?"
"I want to know, how did the Cold Day make you this way? From what I can tell, you've always struggled to produce the Fire of Jarul. But that's because you've been suppressing it subconsciously."
"Wait, I'm not afraid of my flames. I get why you'd think that, but I've never been able to use them like the rest of my family. I wouldn't even know how to hold them back, not on purpose, not even by mistake."
"That changes nothing. If you aren't afraid of it, then maybe you despise it. Otherwise, there's no other reason I can think of for so much of your flare should remain buried inside you."
"..."
The open space left upon the pond's surface by their disturbance allowed sunlight to touch the bottom more than it ever had before.
The translucent veins below illuminated like molten glass, shifting into hues of soft green and blue, shimmering, as if just remembering life.
Faint trails of tiny bubbles quivered upward, and the smooth flesh beneath the pads flexed ever so faintly.
"I was born on the Cold Day… and my birth was not a cause for celebration."
It was the moment when every star lost its light for a moment, a day so unforgettable it became the marker of a new calendar.
Half a second of darkness alone should not have caused such monumental ruin. But what accompanied it was the extinguishment of every flame across the world and the sudden debilitation of every Eminent within the Conmundia whose Authority pertained to fire for a long time after.
Countless lives were lost as a result, especially among those whose civilizations thrived on flame or sunlight as their foundation.
That woman had always been frail and unwell, yet endured the burden of a second pregnancy to its end.
But at the pivotal moment of delivery, the world's light had vanished, and hers followed with it.
The unforeseen event rendered every safeguard and procedure meaningless.
What came next was a cesarean birth from her lifeless body.
"My mother was quite weak. Yet, she was loved by everyone who knew her. So, as far as they were concerned, my birth was an unmentionable tragedy for the family."
'What am I doing?'
"That wasn't all. In his own words, my father told me to make up for what I took from him, with strength to match. That was the first thing he ever said to me the first time we met."
'Why am I telling him this?'
"But when I manifested my power for the first time, I was more of a disappointment. Especially as a son of the family head. He's never even glanced at me since."
'I don't like him. I wouldn't even say these things to someone I cared about. So why am I spilling my guts?'
"The flames themselves aren't enough reason to reject my Authority. But if they were ever to bloom one day… I didn't want it to happen while I was still trapped in that household. I can't explain why..."
"Probably because you wanted Tyson's flames to bloom, not Jarul's."
Tyson hadn't looked up once while speaking, but when those words made him raise his head, he saw now that embers were flaring out from his body, scattering into the air at an alarming rate, until Cosmo, suddenly before him, rested two fingers gently against his forehead.
"If I had to guess,you didn't want anyone to believe that their shunning of you, was a net positive. That was a wish deeply ingrained in your heart. That's why, if you'd stayed as 'Tyson, the failure of the Jarul family,' your Authority would have never awakened. You'd have remained that way until your flare swelled up and tore you apart. I'd say leaving was the best decision you could have made."
The irritation behind Tyson's neck began to cool. The tension in his face eased, and though the embers still streamed out, their light softened, thicker, steadier and calm.
"Sleep. Believe it or not, you've taken a step toward your bloom. It's only a matter of time."
He passed out, collapsing toward the water, only for Cosmo to catch him by the jacket with a sigh.
"That was strange… I'm not the type to give emotional advice. 'The blind leading the blind and all that."
Still holding Tyson like a cub, he leapt back to the shore.
"I've still got a long way to go before I can get all happy. I'll have to revise my methods even further."
…
He wanted to know.
To understand what part of himself was reflected in the back he'd always been chasing, blindly, endlessly, no matter how far he lagged behind it.
In the end, when he finally gained the courage to reach out and see–
"Don't misunderstand. I do not blame you for our mother's death. I hold neither enmity nor compassion for the matter."
"Brother…"
"As far as I'm concerned, all we share is blood, the same blood they claim you've tarnished. But to me, you're not even a speck within its glory. Don't bother proving anything. Live your life however you want. I'm enough in the place of two."
It reflected nothing.
There wasn't even disdain, nor a faint light by which he could trace a path forward. Only dismissal, cold and complete, shedding more pain than all else.
"Sorry, Tyson, we would let you play with us… but you couldn't keep up."
"You've proven to be nothing but a letdown, yet you seem content that way? You must relish the privilege of being the head's son. Or do you enjoy the shadow of your older brother's talents?."
"…ake up."
"I've instructed toddlers with more promise than you've ever shown. Best quit while you're ahead, before you bring more embarrassment to your family."
"You wish to learn how I fight when my reserves are low? You meet your Dear Aunty for the first time and that's your request? Well, with the little time we have together… let me see what I can pass on to you."
"Tyson, wak–"
Through his efforts to deny his standing, a pattern became clear. Every endeavor he devoted himself to as he grew older stemmed from a yearning to please, a desire that rarely, if ever, succeeded–
"Tyson! Get up!"
He jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat. His mind floundered, struggling to orient itself, as though the information reaching his eyes and ears refused to transmit properly to his brain.
Where was he? Who was this person? What was he doing here?
"Are you up now? It's me, Red."
Tyson rubbed his eyes, focusing on the sound of snapping fingers nearby.
"Yeah… I'm up."
Sitting down in relief, Red exhaled a long sigh.
"It's been days since the Captain brought you back to the barrier, apparently. But you haven't woken up once since then."
Tyson hadn't been inside the barrier for quite some time.
Ever since their uniforms adapted to the atmosphere and gained the ability to manually augment their respiratory functions, only a few still stayed within it, Oliver, who they later discovered had never been an Eminent, and Argenta, who was occasionally permitted to leave using a smaller, modified suit crafted from leftover materials.
In many ways, Tyson admired Oliver's circumstances.
From the explanations they were given, Oliver's intellect and knowledge more than compensated for his lack of Authority. And despite not being an Eminent, he somehow possessed a natural resistance to the suggestive inclinations caused by higher Authority levels.
"The Captain told me to wake you up. Rita, Argenta, and my sis just got back, so he's announcing the results."
With that, Red rose to his feet and began walking toward the center of the barrier, slowly enough for Tyson to follow after regaining his bearings.
When Tyson stood, a stiffness at the back of his neck made itself known. No matter how much he stretched or massaged it, the sensation refused to ease.
He caught sight of the others gathered around a pyramidal lamp that cast a soft yellow light. As his footsteps became audible, the group turned to greet him.
"Hey, you're awake!" Blue's voice was naturally the first heard. "About time. There's no way your dreams were that sweet."
"I admit, I was a little worried. Then again, a taste of fresh air for the first time in ages could do that to anyone." Oliver followed.
Blue and Argenta sat near the lamp, casting shapes with their hands into the light and laughing at the moving shadows. Rita sat quietly across from them, on the other side of the lamp.
Oliver, seated cross-legged a short distance away, examined and sorted through a stack of physical photos, each depicting various areas and terrains they'd traversed.
"I'm sorry for causing so much trouble. It wasn't my intention to make you wait or worry."
Tyson spoke as he sat down beside Red, completing the circle they'd naturally formed.
"It's cool, man. The Captain must've really handed it to you. We know how you both get."
"Hold on, I like to think I treat everyone fairly, and I'd prefer the benefit of the doubt, thank you very much."
"Ow! Hey, easy, easy!"
Yon and Cosmo sat across but close to each other, the latter carefully examining Yon's arm, tracing from his fingers up to his shoulder.
Amidst it all, however, Tyson was late to notice that someone was missing.
"Where's Clarisse?"
A long pause followed. After a few exchanged glances, the Captain himself gave the answer.
"She left a while ago, right after the game began. However, I can't tell you where to, yet."
"Why did she go alone?"
"Trust me, she's more than capable of handling herself. In fact, for what she's doing, it's better she goes solo."
For once, Tyson wasn't irritated by Cosmo's refusal to explain further. This time, his response ended with a "yet."
Small as it was, that single word was enough to count as progress, and for Tyson, that meant no reason to complain.
"We can now call the game officially over," Cosmo announced, clapping his hands once. The gesture, however, drew a quiet snicker from Yon, which he chose to ignore.
"As I mentioned seven months ago, in addition to all recorded stats, there's a secret one in the mix, which I wouldn't reveal until the very end."
Their focus sharpened immediately. Each new evaluation came with a detailed breakdown of their strengths relative to one another, but the existence of a hidden metric, something Cosmo had been tracking since the start, never failed to stir excitement.
"First, for combat proficiency and power output, the top spot once again goes to Rita. No surprises there, her Authority's nature and her innate control make her a top contender for raw damage, even among many others. Excellent work maintaining your lead."
Blue raised her hand toward Rita for a high-five, which the latter met with mild hesitation.
"Blue," Cosmo continued, "I'd count you as second place in output, not too far behind, but that ranking only holds when Red's nearby, which would hardly be fair now, would it?"
"Ouch…"
"Not to worry," he added. "I'm not discrediting either of your efficiency and your endurance can't be topped by anyone."
Red snickered. "Guess we'll have to work harder, huh, Sis?"
Blue nodded and giggled.
"Yon," Cosmo said next, "by technicality, your case shouldn't count, given the conditional nature of your Authority. But considering your maximum return, it'll do."
Yon sighed, responding with quiet resignation. "I'll take it."
He was midway through sheathing and wrapping his blade, looking only half-engaged in the breakdown as Cosmo continued.
"For melee efficiency, I couldn't quite decide at first, due to some strange factors, but in the end, congratulations, Tyson. You take the top spot. In exchange for your lack of output, you've honed your efforts into a combat style that–"
"""What?!"""
"What?"
The reaction came like a wave. Fits of laughter followed by an uproar of disbelief and mockery.
"The Captain complimented Tyson?"
"It might snow tomorrow."
"Should someone check if he's real?"
"Are you sick, Captain? Did you eat something weird?"
"What are you dopes on about? I've evaluated Tyson highly plenty of times."
"Yeah, but you never say more than a word beyond that."
"And now 'congratulations'? They aren't wrong."
"Stay out of this, Oliver." Cosmo shot him an irritated glance before continuing. "As I was saying, your fighting style complements your fire well, despite the lacking output. And you don't slack when it comes to defending yourself with that same method. Allowing your flames to reinforce and heighten the threat of your every movement is an impressive technique. Rita might not realize it, but she used something similar when she was low on reserves, most likely after observing you."
All eyes turned toward Rita. But her face said enough, she didn't appreciate their viewing.
"You must've learned from a very experienced Eminent," Cosmo added, "but I can tell most of your proficiency came from long-term effort, your own."
"...Thank you."
That was all Tyson could manage. Words pressed against the back of his throat, eager to spill, things like "I trained really hard," "I'm glad it paid off," or even "Thank you for seeing it."
But in the end, "Thank you" was enough.
"Yon."
"Eh?"
"I've determined you're next up in that regard."
"Really? But I was the first to drop out in the last game. Honestly, I didn't think I'd even be mentioned at all, much less twice now."
"Why not? I'm evaluating your strengths over time, not just in individual games. I noticed what you were doing in our last battle, you weren't simply swinging blindly and cutting everything in your path. You were intentionally leaving openings, trying to lure me into attempting a lethal strike while keeping my attention on the threat your blade posed. Against you, relying on instinct is a dangerous game, someone's bound to be played for a fool. This, among other reasons, is why you're first place when it comes to assessment, tactical coordination, and decision-making."
Yon's breath caught in his throat, but a congratulatory smack on the back from Red snapped him out of it.
"And don't ever judge yourself by the order of elimination. Focus instead on the sequence of events and actions that led to the outcome."
"...got it."
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
He could only hide it behind his hand.
"Red."
"That's me."
"After much thought, I can admit I was harsher than I intended. I'll repeat that your pragmatic approach isn't the issue. For a group to function, there shouldn't always be a linear mindset, all manner of thinking has its place. The real problem was the wasted efforts of your partner. I admired the strategy so much that I found myself rooting for your success. But I should've considered what your partner desired on his own, or at least acknowledged the logic behind your actions a bit further. For that mistake, I apologize."
"..."
"Wow, you are just on a roll today."
"Oliver…"
"Right, right, staying out."
"It's quite alright. I've noticed the flaws within my actions as well. But I'm still curious, I assumed you'd see things the same way I do. Do you not find the act of wasting time inefficient? You've stated so quite often."
Red's tone carried genuine curiosity, the kind born from a question deeply thought over.
Cosmo stared into the lamplight for a moment before finally raising his head. A faint uncertainty lingered on his face, but before hesitation could root itself, he spoke.
"If you encounter many walks of life, all kinds of experiences, and witness countless disasters, without first grounding your own foundation, you become malleable to any ideal. You won't be able to say, 'This one thing is what I truly believe,' or 'This is how I truly want to live.' Because you'll have seen how easily those ideals crumble when tested by something truly threatening."
A loud clatter broke through the air as Argenta accidentally bumped into the central lamp.
The light flickered but didn't fade. It shimmered awkwardly until Blue quietly picked it up and set it right again.
"Yet, there's one ideal that never dims, no matter the catastrophe," Cosmo continued. "Whether friend or foe, family or stranger, there should never be anything worth demeaning the bonds you choose to share with them. The thread that intertwines you with others is among the most precious things you possess. If that bond is partnership, then no amount of pain or time should outweigh the effort your partner puts toward your shared goal."
After stacking his sorted photos into folders, Oliver quietly stood, carrying the files out of the circle without a word.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Captain, but preaching things like that makes you sound almost like a worshipper," Red said with an awkward laugh.
"I was thinking the same thing," Yon added, mouth full. "You sound just like Clarisse. 'Others are as you,' and whatnot."
He had dug through their stored rations and was now chewing on a bar he'd scavenged. It wasn't as though better options didn't exist, but full meals were only allowed after long segments, and he'd grown used to indulging in the emergency supplies they were given.
"Yeah, and if she were here, she'd tell you those are horrible manners... actually, she'd drill it into your head," Red muttered with mock disgust.
"Is that truly how I sound? If so, I must've been influenced far more than I imagined." Cosmo chuckled, then resumed, "Moving on, I'd like to commend you, Red. Your ability to weave your chains to adapt even in unfamiliar terrain gives you unmatched spatial awareness. I must still stress, however, that you all need to work on letting your abilities foster each other's strengths rather than hinder them."
Despite the latter remark, Yon and Red still met in a cheerful fist bump of shared victory.
"Still, I half-expected to see you all brooding over another loss. Could it be that you've accepted it as inevitable?"
Cosmo closed his eyes and leaned back against the dirt-covered ground, wearing his usual smug grin.
"Who lost? You might be a little confused," Yon replied, sitting cross-legged beside him.
Cosmo cracked one eye open and cast him a skeptical glance.
"What are you talking about?"
"The rules state that the only way we'd lose is by getting knocked out or saying the words 'I give up.' Correct?"
"Yes, and?"
"Considering the details surrounding your attack on Rita and our little intern, Argenta wasn't knocked out, as per the rules. She just fell asleep."
Cosmo immediately sat upright.
"That's purely semantics. It was still as a—"
"If you're going to argue that her exhaustion was your doing, you'd have to claim there's no difference between falling asleep and being put out of commission, which is beneath you, Captain. I don't think I need to explain the implications of that clarification, right?"
"Tch–"
"Now that you've officially called the game to an end, don't tell me you plan to nullify the results. That wouldn't be a good look... Captain. This is our victory."
"...No."
"Yes?"
"No…"
"""Yeeeeesss?"""
Sensing blood in the water, Red and Blue joined in unison.
"Ugh, damn it…"
"""Yes!"""
He might have argued further, but it was clear any protests would be drowned out by the laughter and noise that followed.
It was such a trivial, underwhelming loophole that he almost felt disappointed.
Then again, watching them toss Argenta into the air as she laughed with pure delight as they clutched that tiny victory as if it were a triumph of legend, made it more than worth conceding.
"Whatever," he muttered, "Just think long and hard about what that one wish will be."
He left them to their celebration, fully aware that he'd failed to announce the final metric.
Not that it mattered much.
'It's nothing too important for now, I'll just forget about it for the time being.'
Strolling away from the camp, he caught sight of a silhouette standing just beyond the barrier's edge and, curiosity piqued, followed after it.