“Mr. Fulgen, how do you navigate situations when a project you are invested in is deprioritized?”

  “... Not well.”

  Fire Guardian Acolyte has reached Tier 2 Level 19.

  Marcus Wyndham was the captain of Team Cyclone.

  The Captain. And I was fighting him.

  Like all of the team captains, he was well past the midpoint of tier 3. Apparently the disparity was great enough that I practically gained a level just for squaring off against him. Like the aether system was having pity on me.

  I was near the end of my second month at G-Tech. In the weeks since the interview I had trained like a man possessed. I pushed so hard during my workout and training sessions that I started to wake up with a headache. A fuzziness to my thoughts that felt like mental static. Valery confirmed it was aether fatigue. She quickly lowered my prescribed sapsab intake so I emptied my aethervoir fewer times per day.

  It wasn’t like the interview had magically cured me of my guilt over my mom. On the contrary, that often felt like a raw wound freshly scraped. On the other hand, that little mantra of mine? About being there for “the next kid?” Catalina was right. I did need to say it. It had ignited something in me, and as a Fire Guardian, I responded particularly well to ignition.

  My stats were becoming impressive. I broke through 150 in Might, Alacrity, and Arcane. I could bench press over a ton now in my enhanced sweet spot, and I could leg press nearly three tons. Many more skills had broken tier 2, and I’d taken modifiers both simple and exotic. For some cases I’d taken “Enhanced,” simply kicking the skill’s effectiveness up that much more. For, say, Rekindled Flame, I’d taken the "Desperate" modifier, which made it even more effective the lower my health or aethervoir got.

  Wyndham was a multi-elementalist. His class was Storm Commander, which gave him a mixture of lightning, wind, and mist skills in the form of cloud-based obfuscation. Because he was focused on elemental aether, he was theoretically physically vulnerable… if I could get close.

  I summoned Bullet Train immediately, determined to charge in. He blasted me backward with wind aether, then his hand began to spark with yellow as he prepared lightning.

  I dove to the side. I naturally resisted the burning effects of electricity, but it wasn’t harmless to me. The strike still caught me in the leg, and I had to roll for a moment as Guardian’s Immunity shook off the muscle spasms and numbness.

  Rolling back to my feet, I tried again to skid within striking distance. Marcus again rebuffed me with wind and a thick aetheric cloud. It caused noticeable drag and slowed my movements further as I tried to struggle through it. I threw a concussive fireball, which slowed to a stop in midair and fizzled out.

  Damn.

  Wyndham charged up another attack. This one appeared to be wind-based, likely something far more dangerous than a breeze to simply hold me back. I pointed Bullet Train at him, immolated its front section, gunned the throttle, and let go.

  Wyndham was satisfyingly unprepared for my new trick: using my skidstick as a powerful, if slightly unwieldy missile. It was a completely nonsensical move—for anyone who couldn’t recall their weapon to their hand with a thought.

  Wyndham’s eyes widened in shock, and he reacted too late. Bullet Train took him in the chest. I winced as I heard a rib crack despite the effects of the bluntsab, and he gasped as the immolated head of the weapon singed him. But that wasn’t even the real surprise. It was the payload my attack had delivered. Wyndham staggered, and sweat began to stream down his face. It was already taking effect.

  Tier 2’s milestone system wasn’t as generous as the Starter Packs I’d received during tier 1. Instead, I received a stat point at each levelup and a new skill every five levels. What skills I could choose from depended on many factors, but the main ones were the skills I already had, my stats, and occasionally what I had accomplished.

  Bullet Train disappeared in a burst of flames and reappeared in my hand. He glared at me, wiping sweat from his brow. Still, he cut loose with a barrage of wind and lightning attacks.

  I’d picked up Unarmed Combat Aptitude so I could start learning hand-to-hand for situations where my stick would be too unwieldy. Next, I took something called Hyper Reflexes, which would help me both in fights and with skidding. For my third skill, Dante’s Leeching Flame came to mind. It had devastated me in my first sparring match. I wanted it or, perhaps, a way to counter it.

  Neither option appeared on the list.

  Habby still recommended I take a fire skill, either a brand new attack or a variant for Immolate, since I already had something for both Fireball and Torch. The only new attack currently available to me was still Fire Beam, so I browsed for a way to kick Immolate up a notch. There was “Intense” Immolation, a napalm-like “Sticky” effect that I found monstrous, and several others too convoluted or weak to consider.

  Finally, I found something.

  I skidded toward the back corner of the room and braced, which proved surprisingly effective. The metal walls attracted a lot of the lightning, and while several razor sharp air gusts buffeted me, slicing my uniform or my skin, they were still deflected by the barrier the wall provided, their effect reduced. I dismissed Bullet Train, threw a countering barrage of fireballs, and resummoned the skidstick for another attack run.

  Feverflame Immolate. Engulfs the chosen part in flames, producing heat and light and adding a Feverflame effect to hand to hand combat. Unlike regular fire, Feverflame does not burn the surface. Instead, heat penetrates the impacted point, causing a generalized rise in internal temperature. Against living things, this produces the same physical effects as a high fever, including dizziness, muscle weakness, sweats, and even hallucinations or unconsciousness.

  It wasn’t quite as cool as Leeching Flame, and it wouldn’t penetrate fire resistance as well because it still used heat as its mechanism. But it had the advantage of affecting non-sorcerers, and it added a non-lethal, non-burning attack to my arsenal.

  I ducked under a particularly strong burst of electricity and torched Wyndham’s cloud shield, boiling it away. He raised his hands and did his best to parry the thrust of my stick, but I still grazed the side of his head with Feverflame.

  It was as good as a bullseye.

  Earlier, when I’d explained the skill to Wally, he barely contained his elation. He decided he wanted to measure its effects through experimentation. So he volunteered as a guinea pig for Feverflame immolation.

  It was… unpleasant. He described it as feeling like the burn from a red hot chili pepper, but throughout his entire body. He sweated profusely, mumbled incoherently, and for a short while I thought we’d end up making a trek across that walkway to the hospital next door. But the worst part, by far was the nausea.

  We also found, after repeated tests—scientists, am I right?—that where the flame hit was important. While the skill advertised a generalized effect, a body shot was much more effective than, say, a hit to the extremities.

  A head shot was the best. Even a glancing blow.

  Wyndham turned in my direction and began to charge another lightning attack, but his eyes lost focus as I watched. He collapsed to his knees, then rolled onto his back. He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. He tried once to sit back up, then fell back once more.

  “I yield,” he said weakly.

  Fire Guardian Acolyte has reached Tier 2 Level 20. Focus and Branch classes are now available. 3 Class Points required to promote to Tier 3.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Team Cyclone’s resident healer sorcerer, Mira Jiseon, dashed into the training room at an unreasonable speed a moment later. She pressed a hand to Wyndham’s broken rib and another to his forehead, and glowing blue healing aether emanated from her.

  “You beat the captain?” she asked. I was worried she’d be pissed, but she actually sounded awed.

  “Apparently,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t overdo it, did I? I know this new skill of mine is gentler than roasting a dude’s face off, but a high fever can be dangerous too.”

  “Well,” she said. “I estimate you got his temperature up to 105, which is borderline dangerous. It’s not quite the same as a real fever since his body won’t work to maintain that temperature. On a healthy individual, I’d say what you’re doing is low risk.”

  After a minute or so of Mira’s ministrations Wyndham sat up, held his head, and nearly laid down again. Mira encouraged him to do just that, but he shook her off. He placed his hands as if he might try to stand, but thought better of it.

  “Are you all right? Uh, sir?” I asked.

  “I have a pounding headache, but I’ll live.” He looked up at me, still bleary-eyed. “You’ve become quite the powerhouse, Mr. Fulgen. And if I’m not mistaken, you made G-Tech history today. All of the team captains are high tier three, and some of us have started our focus and branch classes. I don’t believe one of the rank and file sorcerers has ever beaten one of us in a one-on-one match. Not unless we were intentionally going easy on them, at any rate. Congratulations.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Uh, thanks. I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

  Wyndham shrugged. “It is only to be expected. After all, you are a Gua— You are… Just a moment.”

  And there it was. Wyndham blinked watery eyes and swallowed hard, but I could tell he was past the point of no return. He turned to the side and started retching.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed at the bewildered Mira as she backed away, trying to keep any from getting on her.

  ?Does that have to happen? It kind of steals my thunder if I try to strike a cool pose over my defeated opponent and they're barfing all over the place.?

  [I don't know what to tell you, Jett. I suppose you just have that effect on people.]

  Valery Drake appeared in the practice room doorway next, looking stunned. She glanced from me, to Wyndham, to Mira, and back to me.

  “Shit, Fulgen!” she said. “What peppers are you eating lately? Can I try some?”

  “I am through!”

  This was Valery Drake’s pronouncement as she barged into the boardroom. Chris was there, along with most of the board members.

  “Through?” asked Marin carefully. “With what?”

  “With this charade! Jett Fulgen is field ready! He is chomping at the bit! He deserves a spot on a team! He will be tier 3 soon! I did what you tell me to! I work him hard! I held back praise! He pushes back even harder!”

  Marin closed her eyes and took a breath. “Valery, if you’ll recall–”

  “He defeated Marcus Wyndham! Wyndham! He did not hold back! I had to clean his puke off the damn floor!”

  Marin’s eyes bugged at that, and she began to roll her pen between her hands. Chris only laughed. The other board members were stunned to silence.

  “You think I say this lightly?” Valery continued. “Is that my habit? Do I come to you every day of the week to say how great my trainees are doing? He even racks his weights! Mostly! Only had to threaten him a couple of times!”

  “Drake, please,” said Marin. “Under any other circumstances you’d be right. He has earned his place. But you know what’s at stake here. Those sorcerers… That freaking titan! It’s all about his artifact! I don’t know why—” Marin glanced around at the board and checked herself, “—someone wants the Fire Guardian amulet that badly. But until we know, Jett Fulgen is not to join a team! And frankly, he shouldn’t even leave this building unless it’s a dire need!”

  “Then you tell him that! Not this bullshit! I’m out of excuses why he can’t go out there! If you still want to lie to him then you do it! Shones know you’re better at it than me!”

  Marin looked toward the door. The wall of the boardroom facing the hallway was translucent glass, rippled and frosted. One could see only vague shapes through it. Someone was obviously standing right outside in the hallway. Marin was sure his hair was red.

  “Please tell me,” she hissed, “that Fulgen isn’t standing outside this room right now?”

  Valery glanced over her shoulder. “He isn’t. Looks like he left.”

  “Son of a—” Marin caught herself again. “Ladies and gentlemen, I will be right back.”

  I made a point of whistling as I moseyed across the atrium, Wally in tow. I was dressed in street clothes, including one of my old grey hoodies. But I’d sent it out and had an image of Habby embroidered on the left breast, almost perfectly positioned over my actual tattoo. I acted like I didn’t have a care in the world. But in fact, I was boiling.

  “Jett Fulgen!”

  I turned around and feigned surprise as Isabel Marin stormed in my direction.

  “Boss,” I said. “Do you need something?”

  “I need you to wait, so I can explain!”

  I stared at her impassively. “Actually, I thought Wally and I would hit the town tonight. I’ve finished my training for the day. I’m off the clock. I’m about to choose my first secondary class, and we’re going to celebrate. Maybe tomorrow?”

  “You can’t leave!”

  I heard the movement of bodies. Building security, most of them runebanders, had positioned themselves by the exit door. Several members of Team Bulwark, currently on call and stationed at HQ, moved to loosely surround me. Team Ambassador, who were nearing the end of their shift, watched me uncertainly. I could already see Dante sneering. Great.

  I eyed Marin. My voice was measured, but I didn’t make much additional effort to conceal my fury. “Am I a prisoner here, Marin? Is that what this is?”

  “Jett, it’s complicated—”

  “Shones damn you!” I spat. I yanked the amulet off so I could brandish it. The chain snapped easily to avoid hurting me; it would only take a thought to pop it back in place if nothing had happened, but I figured it would make a statement. I lowered my voice and stepped toward Marin.

  “It’s all about this thing, is that it? Were you really out to save me or this freaking rock? I busted my ass! Okay? Maybe it’s not all that much compared to some of you. Maybe this has been your pace for years. Fine. But believe me when I tell you I worked harder these past few weeks than I ever have in my life! And do you know why? It’s because I naively thought you understood me! I thought I’d poured my heart out to Lys freaking Corwin and that you got it, that everybody GOT IT!”

  The whole atrium reverberated with the end of that statement. I shook my head. “This is how it always is. Ninety percent of the time, if I really want something, I screw my chances up without any help. I flake out. I don’t want it ‘badly’ enough. But the rest of the time? People like you show up, telling me to slow down. To get back in line. To throw the next race if I know what’s good for me. Damn you all!”

  For a long moment the only sound in the atrium was the trickle of the fountain. Today’s ice sculpture, predictably, was Cryos, standing with his hands resting on the hilt of his jagged sword. A silent sentinel who also appeared to be judging me.

  “Jett?” said Marin. “I apologize on behalf of the company. I instituted this policy, and it was not forthright.”

  “What policy?” I growled. “Specifically?”

  “To—” Marin cleared her throat and refused to meet my gaze. She wiped her eyes. “To try to get you to give up. To surrender the amulet to us for safekeeping and take one of those other jobs to fulfill the conditions of your pardon. At the time it seemed like the best decision. It was the best way to protect both you and the amulet, because… because of the way you…”

  I felt a chill. I looked around the space, at the eyes all focused on me. Team Bulwark was impassive. Team Ambassador looked decidedly uncomfortable. I spotted Valery and Chris, both looking down at me from different parts of the mezzanine. Their expressions were grim. Separately, they both nodded at me.

  I breathed out slowly. At least I’d won someone over. “Because of how I am?” I finished. “Because I can’t hold down a job or finish what I start? Because I always quit things, so why wouldn’t I quit this? Okay. Fine. Maybe you have a point. Maybe I don’t look good on paper. But damn it, you don’t just see me on paper.”

  Marin put her professional mask back on, but I could see that she was trembling. “Why don’t you stop by my office in the morning? We’ll discuss your future openly and honestly. I will say, it will still be in light of Brick, Mantis, the titan, and everything else. But I will tell you our rationale for keeping you close for the time being, and I believe we can come up with a long term plan.”

  “Great. That would be awesome. An open and honest conversation would be a nice change of pace. In the meantime, Wally and I are still going out for a bit. I need to blow off some steam.”

  Team Bulwark and the security guards stepped closer. I laughed.

  “What the hell, guys? Is this how it’s gonna be? I’m not gonna break the conditions of my pardon. I’m just stepping out for a bit.” I glared at one of the runebanded security guards, who shrank back. “Who’s gonna stop me? You? I just kicked Marcus Wyndham’s ass.”

  “Will you at least allow an escort?” Marin asked.

  I sighed. “If they can follow at a distance, fine. I can compromise. But I don’t want freaking bodyguards, and I don’t want grey and blue shadows who sniff every drink I order before handing it to me. I’m immune to poison anyway.”

  Marin was clearly unhappy with the arrangement, but she nodded. “Kaito, Mina. Change into street clothes and meet back here. I’ll pay you overtime. The twins reluctantly responded, shooting me a glare. Like it was my idea.

  A few minutes later, Wally and I stepped out. It was oddly liberating, just walking down a sidewalk, not to shuffle into or out of a G-Tech van or dodge reporters.

  “Jett?” asked Wally. “Is this really a good idea?”

  “Probably not.” I was already pulling out my phone. “But a lot of my best ideas aren’t good ones.”