Dressed in the standard light grey combat gear, and his powerful legs were encased in black combat boots, strapped securely with knee and elbow pads. He tightened the chest buckle, a leather strap that was fastened to outline his figure. 

Ian flexed his hands encased in leather gloves, indifferently gazing at the circular gate that remained shut. A crowd had gathered—these were the top ‘students’, and it became evident that a stray from the lower floor had wandered inside. 

Lucian massaged the side of his neck, smiling calmly, unperturbed by the mass stares. “Well. Since we’re here, do you plan to explain your abrupt request?”

Ian tugged at the adjuster on his glove. “Have I ever explained myself?”

“It’s never too late to try something new.”

“It’s too scary,” he deadpanned, lifting his arms to tie back his raven hair. “I’m a mere cowardly mouse scared of change.”

Lucian’s eye twitched, calmly ignoring the light stab towards his compliance. There was an evening, a long time ago, when Ian had sat on his bed like a lazy, waiting lion and coldly glanced sideways at his roommate.

There was still blood on his face, and bruises developing under his skin, adding a rebellious, dangerous air to his softer features that had been hardened over time.

He’d asked Lucian, in a casual way that didn’t seem to demand or care for an answer, “Hey, star student. Have you ever thought about escaping this facility?”

Their relationship had been fresh, and neither party communicated with the other, pretending they lived in a solo room. They’d been young then, too. It was impossible to say that such an idea never crossed Lucian’s mind. 

There were many who dreamed of freedom.

But they had to be realistic; it wasn’t that freedom was impossible—none of them would believe that they were imprisoned.

It was merely that the unrealistic fantasy of escaping was too elusive to consider. Lucian honed his appearance and skills, attaining the highest level of privilege as he prepared to find a suitable partner who could lead him to the surface.  

That was reasonable; a difficult but not impossible reality. 

But this bruised and battered Guide across from him had further dreams and aspirations that crossed the galaxies. 

Lucian had dismissed the conversation, answering curtly at the time. Rebellion would only result in punishment. But it was like a tiny seed planted in his heart, unfertilized and dormant. 

The next week when he was reassigned to the second floor, to achieve his realistic desires, he’d rejected it under some flippant excuse.

Ian didn’t bring up rebellion again, as if accepting the unspoken truth of Lucian’s cowardliness. 

“Really, Ian. Tell me now and I might be able to help you.”

Ian glanced at him skeptically, raking his gaze up and down. Lucian, feeling his entire body and pride being analyzed and rejected, rubbed his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten I’m one of the highest ranking Guides in this facility?”

“And does that mean anything—“ His eyes were always smooth and clear, like the reflecting surface of a mirror. “—to anybody beyond this facility?”

Tension lined Lucian’s shoulders as his gaze darted sideways. “It’s not a question worth considering right now.”

Ian faced the door as a researcher stepped forward, going through the regular expectations and safety protocols. “Not right now,” he muttered softly. “But that ‘now’ won’t be forever.”

Lucian’s eyes snapped to him as the large gate clicked, the mechanical locks releasing as the circular door parted in two. Ian followed the flow of the crowd, ignoring Lucian’s scorching gaze embedded into his back. 

A forest area took over their vision, crawling up the walls and draping the stimulation in sweeping vines of rich greens. Wide trees interrupted their pathway, and Ian froze underneath the archway for a split second. 

There was a light tap on his back and Lucian passed him. “Don’t lose focus, Ian. Many get injured during each stimulation. The system should calculate the level of difficulty based on the Guide’s skill levels.”

Ian felt his foot sink into the firm ground, covered in dirt and creeping forestry. It was almost real—but the hum of the machines buzzed in the distance, and even further through a glass window spanning the top section of the wall, he knew he was being watched. 

He wasn’t sure how Lucian convinced the researchers to allow an F-grade into the stimulation; although perhaps he was part of another experiment, a ploy to compare the weakness of lower grades. 

The stimulation this time was simple; they were required to locate and activate ten energy points hidden within the forest. 

It required a stable level of energy control to infuse a steady amount of energy to activate the receptor. Too much—which was rare due to the nature of Guide’s calming ability—would lead to an explosion. 

Too little and the receptor would fail to activate. 

Throughout the forest, there were modified monsters, man-made creatures that mimicked those found in Rifts, and wandering outside the Base after having escaped from a collapsed Rift. 

Monsters inside the Rifts were far more powerful; that was why the Base was able to replicate and capture some of the wandering creatures with few sacrifices.

“Stay by my side, Ian.” Lucian nodded towards a gap between the dense cluster of trees, climbing through it. “I don’t necessarily want the guilt of dragging your corpse out after agreeing to your demand.”

Ian followed, ducking under a low branch as he kept his mind alerted to any energy fluctuations in the air. It was the second thing the stimulation tested; a Guide’s ability to react and recognize energy disturbances.

The receptors were designed to mimic a Esper on the verge of transformation; both unstable and chaotic. 

Considering the level requirements of participating, Ian assumed it would be at least a C-grade energy instability—an attempt to activate the receptor by a lower grade Guide would backfire.

Ian debated it. Purposely injuring himself by lowering his energy output was an option, but it would likely leave him bedridden for a few days.

Suddenly, he felt his body being shoved sideways, a steady grip wrapping around him and pressing him flat against the rough bark of a tree. Lucian leaned in, pressing his hand over his lips. 

“Quiet,” muttered the man, staring ahead as his emerald eyes fixed on a moving shadow in the trees. “Don’t bite my hands either.”

Ian scowled. It was only one time he did that—and it was a reasonable circumstance when an out-of-control Esper had wandered into the hallway and Lucian dragged him into a room.

With the amount of unwanted ‘room dragging’ that happened in the facility, it was perfectly reasonable to attack. His teeth were particularly sharp. 

The bushes rustled, dragging with the movement of the creature. It sounded as if somebody were dragging their feet on the ground, bumping into every barrier in its way. 

The two peered around the trunk that safely hid them. A long and skinny shape appeared, two thin arms trailing on the ground while its twisted body which resembled two intertwined roots, was littered with little spikes. 

In its forehead was a large, protruding eyeball that bulged as if on the verge of slipping out, attached by delicate vessels.

“A B-grade monster,” muttered Lucian with some confusion. “I thought the rank of this stimulation would’ve lowered with your appearance.”

Ian freed himself from Lucian’s hold, confidently replying, “I wouldn’t lower any level grade.”

With his confident words, but his passive nature during the weekly bullying, Lucian squinted at him and sighed helplessly, as if appeasing a child. “Of course, whatever you say.”

“…..” Ian scowled at the pitying gaze sent by the other. 

His foot stepped back and he froze, hovering over a perfectly placed branch designed to sabotage. His heart soared and settled as he carefully stepped down beside it. 

Then, an ear-piercing scream speared his eardrums. 

The slumped monster’s back cracked, correcting into impeccable posture. 

Lucian leaned towards Ian, whispering, “Now that’s proper posture. Everybody stands crookedly these days. It’s impossible to find a straight partner.”

Ian looked over his shoulder, and then back at him. He calmly reminded, “You don’t want them straight.”

Lucian paused. “I suppose I don’t.”

 Before Ian could offer his agreement, the bones cracked wildly, smashing and bulging against the creature’s thin skin.

The body continued contorting until it created a backward bridge. 

Two Guides and one eyeball stared at each other. 

In the next second, the bent and crooked body rapidly crawled towards them.