The two teenagers continued walking through the dark alleys of the slums.
— Atela.
She lifted her head toward the one who had called her. Noa continued walking without turning around.
— How does your innate technique work?
Atela thought he didn't waste any time. His question was direct, but she knew he was expecting an answer.
— I'm able to create techniques by fulfilling certain conditions through my own innate technique.
Noa, surprised, brought his hand to his chin.
— Interes—… wait? So you can create any technique from nothing?
Atela clarified:
She is not an entity capable of creating techniques from nothing, but rather an accumulator of valid theories that she materializes by giving them form. Thus, in order to use a power, one must first establish its theory through calculations: it must be scientifically valid according to physical laws, otherwise it turns into an unstable magma that risks destroying the foundations of her soul.
— I see…
Noa thought for a moment about what he had just learned.
" This technique has a functioning similar to the system that governs chaos energy. Normally, a person is not limited to their innate technique alone: they can unlock a derivative ability from their root technique by confirming a logical theory with physical laws and manifesting it in reality. "
But for Noa, it was very clear: Atela did not rely on any root technique, unlike others, since it was her own ability that allowed her to create other techniques simply from her knowledge.
" A capacity like that… you don't see it every day… especially since we're the same age, and she's still just a teenager. She hasn't even unlocked her true potential yet. "
Noa then began to develop a certain interest in Atela and in the usefulness she might have in the future.
Atela added, as if she had just remembered something important:
— Oh right… there's also the voice in my head.
Noa was once again caught off guard by her words, which didn't happen often.
— What voice?
Atela slowed down.
— My father told me it's the mental manifestation of my technique, Maëlle. It's like a second consciousness sharing the same soul as me. It helps me create and perfect techniques by handling their design and stabilization using my knowledge.
Noa was really starting to get tired of being surprised by her. He adopted a neutral expression, almost blasé.
— Then you are a true anomaly.
— Hey! What do you mean, an anomaly? And you, what's your technique?
— I don't have one.
A heavy silence settled between the two teenagers. Atela didn't even know what to say.
— But… how? Why?
Noa told her he didn't really know why he didn't have an innate technique.
" This is the first time I've ever met someone without an innate technique… Wait, why am I so surprised? It's almost as strange as Drago's case. "
— But to compensate, through training and very strong determination, I managed to develop a personal ability: I can copy other people's techniques.
Atela didn't expect to ever hear something like that.
— So not only do you not have an innate technique, but you're also able to copy others' techniques… is that it?
Noa clarified that there were three mandatory conditions in order to copy a technique. If one of them was not met, he could not reproduce it.
Before he could even explain—
A man stepped out of the alley in front of them.
He was walking slowly, dragging his feet.
— We found him. I'll explain later, but for now…
Noa said calmly.
The man was staring at them with wide eyes. His gaze first landed on Noa, then stopped on Atela. A wide, disturbing smile stretched across his face.
Maëlle emitted a warning:
— I detect extremely strong hostility directed at you from this individual.
— What? But I didn't do anything to him!
The man's eyes began to glow with a silver light, almost entirely white. The same energy began emanating from his feet.
Atela stepped back, before Noa placed his hand on her head.
— She is with me.
At those words, the man's silver aura faded, and the light gradually disappeared. But his smile remained unchanged, and his eyes, still wide open, barely blinked.
— Good evening.
His deep, calm voice created a disturbing contrast with his expression. Atela found him terrifying. Noa thought she was right.
— Atela, let me introduce you to Fou, the one who rules this slum district. Oh, and… he's also crazy.
Atela wondered what she had gotten herself into.
Maëlle's voice echoed:
— All the hostility he was directing toward you completely disappeared as soon as Noa started speaking.
Noa stepped toward him.
— By any chance… would you know where the metro entrance is?
Fou's pupils dilated like a camera lens.
— Why are bananas yellow and not blue?
Noa covered his face with his hand.
— I forgot he always answers questions with other completely unrelated questions… we're far from being out of trouble.
Meanwhile, in the capital.
The atmosphere in the family meeting room was becoming heavier by the minute.
Old André spoke.
— Good. First of all, you must know that the kingdom of Zhaorin has been completely destroyed.
Everyone present, except Diane and David, was shocked.
Dante stepped forward, serious.
— Let me guess… Sélestia is involved in all of this, isn't it?
Diane, a glass of wine in hand, slightly frowned.
— Sélestia? I thought that organization had been destroyed.
— A new organization bearing the same name appeared a few weeks ago.
A young member of the secondary branch handed documents to Dante.
— According to our information, this organization has nothing to do with the original one. The first was composed of simple terrorists, with little power and experience… and all had criminal records.
He paused, more seriously.
— But this second organization… is something else. We have no information on its members. Their power is enough to destroy a nation like Zhaorin in three days, and they are extremely powerful.
David sat down slowly.
— If I called this meeting, it was to send all the young heirs to the kingdom of Garion.
General shock.
— The world order is unstable. We are approaching a world war… or even a new holy war. And I have confirmed my suspicions: there may be a traitor among the 20 generals.
The shock returned immediately.
Lise Hyperion, 11 years old, spoke calmly.
— This completely changes the balance of power. Sélestia is no longer a simple criminal organization… but a global threat.
She gently tapped a black chess piece on the table.
— Several kingdoms are already at war. Given the timing, Sélestia is definitely involved.
Lara intervened.
— That would mean they also have political influence.
Yuna nodded.
— Obviously. With a general on their side, they can manipulate defenses and create diversions.
Johan yawned.
— We're lucky they haven't attacked the Empire of the East…
Oliver replied:
— It's because of the patriarch and the elders.
Iris confirmed.
— Their power is general-level.
Apeche added:
— That's no reason to lower our guard.
Vega, slightly drunk but lucid, spoke.
— The borders are still open.
Apeche replied:
— Except those of the slums. They won't obey us.
Charl concluded calmly.
— Noa will handle it.
The patriarch stood up.
— You will leave tomorrow for Garion. Train… and find the traitor.
— I didn't know we were that popular here.
Snap.
In 0.3 seconds, a thick layer of ice blocked all exits.
No one was surprised.
David slowly turned his head.
In a corner—
A man dressed in black.
Hood.
Face hidden.
Psaimon.
Beside him, a woman with black and white hair.
— It is an honor to meet you, Patriarch… David Hyperion.