It turns out the Particle training class had been postponed until late afternoon because the instructor hadn't returned to HQ yet.
After exploring the other sects besides Healing and Science, Damien realized that HQ was one giant white-walled rectangle with 7 sects. Capture and Settlement, Scavenging and Acquisition, Island Intelligence, Defense, and The Tribunal were all marked off limits to cadets, however. So Damien and Luka only got a good look inside Particle Research — but they didn't stay long, as it was deeply boring, and the head researcher used fancy language they didn't understand.
Now they met in the middle of HQ, the cafeteria.
At opposite ends of the room large enough to fit a whole flock of beasts, were two serving counters. The east side was full of luxurious meals — rare steak, lobster, the kind of thing Damien used to treat himself to every so often back when money wasn't a problem. But it was only for the Raiders.
The other side was slop. Literally grey slop, and this strange thing called pudding. This was for the cadets.
Damien stood in line, pushing his tray of grey slop and one pudding cup across the counter. Luka had just made his purchase and went to find a table that wasn't already occupied by men in black, red, or white cloaks. Cadets and Raiders sat separately.
"Ha, my father was the Raider who reinvented pudding. It's a delicacy, so be thankful to try it." Further back in the line, Julius was bragging to two dull boys and a cunning-looking blonde girl.
Damien rolled his eyes, pushing his tray to the lady at the checkout counter.
Reinvented pudding? You mean gather the resources and follow the recipe handed down to us by our predecessors?
"Your chip." The grouchy lunch lady said.
Damien fumbled around in his pockets, pulling out a green circular piece of plastic. It had all of his allotted money, which the Raider Corps gives new cadets during their 6-week training process for things like food.
"I can't wait to try your father's pudding. I'm honored, Julius." The cunning blonde placed her hand on his shoulder. He blushed. "Of course, you should be!"
Damien looked at the hundred-odd pudding cups, $2.99 each. Then, to his chip, a devious smirk spread wide across his face.
"Hey, is that all of the pudding you have for the day?"
"Try all week," the lunch lady coughed a bitter laugh.
Damien's eyes lit up upon hearing this, bringing back the hymns of old times.
"And it wouldn't be against the rules for me to buy all of these pudding cups, would it?"
"Just make it quick. I've had to pee for twenty minutes."
He handed her the chip, humming. This was the happiest he'd been all week.
"Great, can I get a box for those?"
After a moment, the line became restless.
"What's the hold up, prodigy? Broke already?" Julius sneered. However, as the lunch lady handed Damien the container of pudding, Julius's face turned visibly paler, and he pushed past old man Sam, his expression angry.
"What's the meaning of this!"
Calmly, Damien set the box on the counter, grabbed a cup, peeled back the lid, and scooped vanilla pudding into his mouth.
"Wow! I knew it'd be good, so I went ahead and bought all of them."
Damien ate the pudding with his finger.
Then Julius, flushed red, got in his face. "If you had any idea who my father was, you'd return the cups this instant."
"Hmmm, no, I don't think so." Damien waved his stained finger. "But if you want a cup, you can transfer me $15."
Julius's posse whispered to themselves.
"What a douchebag. He's really extorting us."
"I really wanted pudding, Bort."
"Me too, Gorb. But if a Bloodthrone can't get him to stop..."
Julius reared back his fist, the moment his family's honor came into question.
Again... Damien thought, unamused. Does this kid know how to do anything besides pick a bad fight?
"Is everything alright?" The cunning blonde placed her hand on Julius's shoulder again, fake worry plastered on her face.
In Damien's old line of work, he had to be able to tell when someone was being dishonest, or he'd get scammed. So very quickly, he became a good judge of character.
This girl is an actress, after whatever status Julius's family name carries.
Damien wasn't aware until today that there were Raider lineages, but it made sense that Raider families would want their children to awaken to stay at the top of the hierarchy.
Julius stopped. Pouted for a few seconds. Then the girl grabbed his hand and turned around. "I really wanted to try your father's pudding, but it's not worth it, Julius. We can wait until next week if we have to."
Julius only seemed to hear her first words.
"No... I'll pay, Sarah," he said begrudgingly, handing the chip to the lunch lady, who looked even grumpier still having to pee. "Transfer him $30."
***
After reducing his prices to $8 for old man Sam and the other cadets, Damien struck a deal for the lunch lady to store his box in the back, only costing him three puddings.
Overall, he was still down a large sum, but as the cadets grew tired of slop over the week, he'd surely make it all back.
"I thought you were done with our business," Luka said, through a mouthful of pudding.
Damien shrugged, smiling whimsically. "Oh, you know, a little here and there never hurt anybody."
"Tell that to Julius. He's staring daggers at you like an angry pup."
Damien didn't need to look at the table behind him to feel Julius staring at him, but did so anyway, just to see the look on the brat's face.
Ah, so worth it.
"So remind me what you guys used to do," Summer asked, bewildered. She'd entered the cafeteria just in time to witness Damien's scummy tactics, but her tone seemed more curious than anything.
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
Suddenly, an alarm blared through the cafeteria and a red light flashed. The Raiders were the first to act, jumping up from their chairs and exiting with worried expressions.
Summer quickly stood up. "Shit. C'mon, guys — that can only mean someone's trying to enter HQ without permission."
The three of them spilled into the hallway, joining a current of black, white, and red cloaks flowing toward the entrance. Damien could already feel Particles so dense that they pressed against his chest like a fist. The gathered Raiders were ready for a fight.
The banging on the grand metal door was heavy, desperate.
Then the door creaked.
Then slid open.
The Raiders lunged forward as one — but stopped dead a second later.
Because it was only one man. Barely standing, his red cloak torn to ribbons, golden blood soaking through what remained of it. Draped across him were three others, limp and silent, held up only by the fact that he hadn't let go.
They collapsed together onto the white floor.
"PART! MOVE IT!"
Steven came barreling through the crowd with a trolley, coat flapping, pointing aggressively at anyone not moving fast enough. He dropped to his knees, checked pulses with practiced speed, and began loading them on.
As he wheeled past, he caught Damien's expression.
"Ha, don't you worry, kid — I'll heal them." Then he glanced down at one of them, a woman who, even unconscious, managed to look like she'd bite you. He winced. "Maybe not her."
He disappeared around the corner toward the infirmary. Damien felt that her flame Particles were snuffed out a moment later.
He unwrapped a piece of gum, tossing it in his mouth, strawberry. 70% of raiders don't make it past their first four years of raiding Islands... this is what I signed up for.
Summer exhaled beside Damien.
"Well... I guess the Particle class is canceled."
Damien and Luka turned to look at her.
"That was our instructor."