The afternoon class wasn’t as productive as the morning had been for Det. Simmons had given him too much to think about. The man’s plans were actually the smallest part of that, with Det accepting he didn’t know the goals—and wouldn’t be figuring them out anytime soon—and moving past that. No, what distracted him was the other thing Captain Simmons had asked him.

  If Det had to fight himself, how would he win? What were his weaknesses?

  So, as Det absently summoned and worked on improving his kernel usage, he dwelled on that question. All the usual suspects came up during the introspection. He wasn’t as strong a fighter as he could be. His body was superhuman, yes, but nothing special compared to the other superhumans around him. Or the Wordless monstrosities he’d fought.

  That very first one on Radiant had proven he wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, or tough enough to take it on directly. He’d won through out-thinking it, and a bit of luck. If he hadn’t been fighting it near the edge of the pillar and managed to throw it off the side, he…

  … he…

  Hold on. Why had he been fighting a Wordless by the edge of the pillar without a dungeon burst being present? The emergence Beauty had entered was near the orchard and pasture—where the sheep had been killed—but that didn’t explain what the Wordless was doing there in the first place. How had it gotten out from the dungeon? The emergence hadn’t appeared until weeks after Det and Calisco left Radiant. And it wasn’t like there were other tunnels leading from deep inside the pillar to the outside.

  Or, well, there was one. Had been one.

  One he’d created accidentally when he’d been trying to open a door home. Thanks to his ReSouled memory, and effort he’d put into it, his mind replayed the scene almost perfectly for him.

  Unable to wait a second longer, Det climbed the stairs toward the door. Despite being nothing more than black outlines, his magic made his art real. Anything he painted, he could bring to life. Animals. Tools. Weapons. Even doors to other places. Normally, just the next room, but this was magic.

  If he could make a door from a kitchen to a bedroom, couldn’t he make himself a door home?

  His hand closed around the black doorknob, the ink of it hanging in the air until his fingers tightened on it, then turned. Clunk, clunk the knocker banged against brass, while the squeaky, top-right hinge squealed like it was announcing his return.

  “Nat!” Det called, light flaring around the edges of the door as he pushed it in. “Yumiko! I’m…”

  His words died on his lips. In front of him, it wasn’t his entryway, with his family’s shoes and coats hanging on one side. It wasn’t his staircase up to the second floor ahead of him. It wasn’t Yumiko rounding the corner with a smile on her lips to tell him okaeri, or Nat sprinting down the stairs to tell him what she did at school today.

  No, all he found was a cold, granite hallway, the same size and shape of the door he had opened. At the far end, mist poured in and crawled in his direction.

  All he’d managed to do was open a door out to the far side of the pillar.

  He’d… failed. Again.

  Eyes lingering on the mist as it crawled in his direction—his tired mind adding shapes moving within, like his wife was waiting for him—and he had the brief thought of sprinting down the hall and leaping through the door he’d opened. After that, what would happen? Nobody knew what was down there deeper in the mist. Would he fall forever? Was there ground or an ocean… or something… down there?

  That shape in the mist. What if that wasn’t his imagination? No, there wasn’t a ‘what if’ to this. It wasn’t his imagination. Det had created a tunnel intersecting with the emergence and somehow released one of the Wordless on Radiant before the dungeon fully appeared. It was actually his fault the sheep had been killed, and Kels had been hurt. Of course, it had been an accident, but that didn’t make him feel all that much better.

  The guilt only lasted a minute, thankfully. Logically, how was he supposed to know about a dungeon full of bloodthirsty marionettes forming below the feet of his town? He wasn’t. He couldn’t. It did add an interesting “weakness” to his magic, though. Unforeseen consequences.

  His magic wasn’t just animating renditions like wolves or angry honey-badgers. He could, to a small extent, alter the physical world around him.

  Hrm, could also be a strength. If people think I’m basically just a summoner of some kind, they may not watch their feet as well. I should also start thinking outside the box about what my renditions can do.

  Later, after I figure out more weaknesses of my magic.

  Like Simmons had said, Det needed to prepare for his magic to be most effective. Yes, he had a ton of versatility, if he had renditions ready to go, or the time needed to paint them. That was definitely another weakness. There was no way he’d have time in a duel to paint. Not to mention the two seconds required for his renditions to come to life.

  His party had covered for him in the Radiant dungeon when he’d been manifesting his renditions, by preventing the Wordless from reaching him and ripping his throat out. Even when he’d fought that Wordless on Radiant, it had been patient. Watching him while he’d summoned his renditions, like it was curious what he was doing. With its speed, it could’ve easily interrupted him.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  So, that left him with a few exploitable weaknesses he’d need to work on.

  Mulling over how he would punish somebody who had the same openings took Det through the rest of the afternoon. After talking to Beauty privately about how he thought that rogue Wordless had gotten to the surface of Radiant—something that was still under investigation—Det made a beeline for the courtyard between the class buildings. He’d gotten his practice room number from the instructor, and now he just needed a sparring partner. One in particular he had in mind.

  “Hey, Tena, got a minute?” he said, jogging up to find the woman chatting with Sage and Eriba. With impressive shoulders—and an overall physique that most people were honestly jealous of—Tena had become the image of a Bulwark in Det’s mind. As their party’s tank, she stood at the front and took the damage so they wouldn’t have to. In the last dungeon run, she’d done more than her fair share of that, coming away looking like she’d had a losing argument with a blender.

  She was also the first person Det had sort of dueled. He’d yielded immediately in the fight—since he hadn’t been able to bring his brushes or paint into the duel—and she’d proceeded to spear him in the face. It’d sucked. A lot. Only the protective magic, and a B-Rank healer, had him standing back up later that same day.

  Now, she was not only his teammate, but also one of his roommates. Even on the way to becoming a kind of friend.

  Looking up from her discussion with Sage and Eriba, Tena shrugged. “Depends, what do you need?”

  “A sparring partner,” Det said quietly. No need to announce his plans to anybody listening in. If baby-face didn’t think to get in some extra practice time before the duel tomorrow, Det wasn’t going to give him any bright ideas.

  “You want somebody to knock you around?” Tena said, a worryingly evil grin forming on her lips. “I can do that.”

  “Hoping for a little more instruction and less bruises,” Det said flatly.

  “That’s not…” Tena said, then seemed to spot something over Det’s shoulder that made her smile widen even more. “Why not both?” she said. “Weiss, get over here.”

  Det couldn’t stop from both groaning and agreeing with what Tena clearly had in mind.

  Weiss was another roommate-slash-teammate, along with being the party’s Medic. In other words, he had healing magic. He also had some… issues… with violence they needed to work through, so maybe this could be that two-birds-with-one-stone kind of situation afterall.

  “What can I do for you?” Weiss said. “Are we going for sandwiches?”

  Tena looked at Det, teeth appearing behind her lips as that smile somehow widened even more. “Yes, we are,” she said. “Det’s treat for doing a favor for him.”

  “Then I’m getting kettle chips too,” Weiss said without a pause. “What’s the favor?”

  “Det wants me to beat him up, and you heal him so I can do it again,” Tena said.

  “Odd… favor,” Weiss said. “Didn’t know that was your kink.”

  “It’s not my…” Det started, then just shook his head, took a breath, and kept his voice a little lower. “I’ve got the duel tomorrow. Baby-face—I mean, Aarak—can control sand. Use it for shields, shoot spikes of it, that kind of thing. Tena, I’m hoping you can work with me a bit on that.”

  “To deal with the shooting spike things?” Tena guessed.

  “Exactly,” Det said. “I can probably figure it out if I have to, but a bit of actual training from somebody who’s good with the whole defense thing would make a big difference.”

  “Trying to butter me up with flattery?” Tena asked.

  “Is it working?” Det said.

  “Not on its own,” Tena said. “You need to work on your game.”

  “Det doesn’t have game,” a new addition to the conversation said. The sixth and final member of the teammate-roommate party. Also, the only other ReSouled that had grown up on Radiant. Calisco. Dressed in the same black-and-red uniform as the rest of the cadets, she was doing a good job hiding her inner-chunibyo from everybody around her.

  Not that it wasn’t a bit earned. While every ReSouled had natural magic, few were as flashy—or as potent—as Calisco’s explosion magic. It was just too bad about her personality.

  “He’s never had a girl looking at him, let alone been on a date,” Calisco continued, joining the group and giving a little fist-bump of greeting to Tena. “How could he have game?”

  “Because I’m married,” Det reminded her.

  “Yeah, on another world,” Calisco countered without taking a breath. “So, why are we all standing around? Waiting for me and me awesomeness to make your day better?”

  “Nothing you do makes my day better,” Det said.

  “Det wants me to help him practice being defensive. Something about sand spikes,” Tena said. “Weiss is going to heal him after.”

  Calisco looked from Tena, to Weiss, to Det. “Huh,” she said. “Never would’ve guessed that was your kink.”

  “Right?” Weiss said.

  “It’s not my…!” Det said, and forced himself to take a deep breath again. “You don’t have to come…” he started.

  “And he’s buying us sandwiches for helping,” Weiss said. “Kettle-chip combo.”

  “Tempting as lunch is,” Calisco said. “Not worth it if I have to spend my evening with Det.”

  “You do that usually, when we’re watching movies,” Weiss said, which Calisco promptly ignored. Logic wasn’t her thing.

  “Sounds like you’re buying lunch for everybody else there, buddy.” Sage threw his arm over Det’s shoulders, while also grabbing Eriba’s shoulder and pulling her closer as well.

  “And how are you helping?” Det said.

  “I can step on you, if you like,” Eriba offered so innocently, it made everybody do a double take.

  Then she put a hand up to cover her mouth while she giggled with a quiet sh sh sh.

  Was she joking about the stepping thing? Det… honestly couldn’t tell.

  “Where are we doing this sparring—after eating Det’s generously purchased sandwich combos—anyway?” Sage asked.

  “There’s a practice hall, near the arena,” Det grumbled. He didn’t really have any objections to them all coming along—and it wasn’t like the sandwiches were expensive—but would having a peanut gallery help? Actually, maybe it would. They’d all proven themselves in one way or another during the dungeon run they’d done. Having more people making suggestions couldn’t hurt.

  He looked at Calisco. Having most people making suggestions couldn’t hurt.

  “What?” Calisco asked when she saw him looking at her. “Do I have something on my face?”

  “Something terrible,” Det said.

  “Don’t do it, Det,” Sage cautioned quietly.

  “Your face,” Det deadpanned.

  “And you did it,” Sage said beside him.

  Calisco’s eyes narrowed at Det.

  “You…” she started, the growl turning to a chuckle as she looked at Tena. “Changed my mind. I’m so in.”

  It probably wasn’t Det’s imagination that Calisco’s explosion magic was sparking at her fingertips.

  “You did this to yourself,” Sage said, giving Det’s shoulder a squeeze. “So, sandwiches. Let’s go! I’m hungry.”

  Another pat on Det’s shoulder, and Sage started toward the street that would take them to Zedic’s sandwich shop on the way to the arena. The others followed, though Calisco lingered a moment longer to glare at him.

  “Cali, come on,” Tena called back to her. “We can brainstorm with Weiss how much we can hurt Det while we practice.”

  Calisco’s glare turned sweetly evil. “Great idea.” A wink at Det that promised nothing good, and the woman jogged off to join the rest of the group.

  “Yeah,” Det said quietly. “I really did that to myself.