Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player
579 Scent of Death
Kieran and Altair groaned, each feeling more dreadful than when they had first woken up.
Lillian had made good on her promise without compromising their safety. Safe didn't equate to enjoyable, though.
A screen tracked the concentration of X-hancers in their system and plotted the absorption pace to maintain a constant flow without entering dangerous territories, which kept the two in a state of cyclic agony.
Seeing as they both stood on their feet, awaiting a ride to Bastion's last known location, their suffering seemed worth it. A con of their return to moderate health, however, was a hike in urgency. The rising shortage of X-hancer had gone from a mild burden that could be deferred to a maddening dilemma that called for immediate attention.
Something told Kieran that other guilds were likely prioritizing their X-hancers by now and wouldn't part with them, especially if other Adepts manifested similar changes.
There was Khaos, but their relationship wasn't the best. If he had to turn to the leader of Advent… Kieran would be in grave debt, and there was no telling how Khaos would cash in that debt.
Kieran wracked his mind, thinking up solutions while flagging down the approaching personal escort vehicle.
Upon entering the vehicle, Altair turned to Kieran while wearing a somewhat uneasy expression.
"So… what will you do? If it comes down to the worst possible scenario… what will be our recourse here?"
Kieran brooded over the question, gazing out the window as the skyline was pierced by towering skyscrapers, each morphing the sunlight bearing down on them in a strange, routine way. It created the metropolitan vista New Metro had to offer.
After moments to consider, Kieran looked elsewhere and shrugged.
"We'll have to review our options. But one thing we can't allow… is for Bastion to fall into darkness. He is one of our important pillars; if we lose him, there will be a hard-to-fill void left."
Altair sighed and similarly looked out the window on his side.
"Yeah. I've grown pretty used to him to the point I'd hate to not have him around. So we've got to help him by any means necessary."
Kieran braced his chin in a way that suggested deep thought.
'…Any means? I wonder.'
"Xane, has there been any evidence of Sara manifesting signs of healing powers? What if we—"
Altair cut Kieran off with an abrupt head-shake, answering succinctly.
"No. At least, I haven't heard such a thing happening."
Kieran returned to mulling over every possible course of action. There were a few, but he was ambivalent.
Some of the solutions at hand felt dicey. At the top of the list was X-hancer — presenting the highest chance of success… but also a similarly high mortality rate. If not for Kieran's bizarre constitution that devoured the serum's potency, Kieran would have exploded from the rapid accumulation of violent energies within his body.
He was the exception, not the rule. However, Lillian had stumbled upon many fascinating discoveries in recording, analyzing, and comparing data.
Altair started out closer to the others in terms of X-hancer metabolism, but he was quickly approaching Kieran's level of digestion, where there was minimal to practically no waste of energy at all.
Lillian's meticulous analysis skills and fastidious nature are why Kieran left her to deal with the distribution of that evolutionary serum. Kieran was confident he'd grow impatient at some point throughout the process, wing it, and hope for the best while doing something undeniably reckless.
Such was his nature — seeking the thrill or traveling the path of high risk, high reward.
Aside from X-hancers, another solution was to seek an Inhuman specializing in healing abilities, which would have been best if Sera had those. Sadly, Altair had confirmed no such thing had awakened, which he found incredibly strange.
Why were only some people awakening abilities and others weren't?
'Does it have something to do with their latent potential?'
That assumption sounded plausible in hindsight, but Kieran couldn't be entirely sure. And it also seemed somewhat inaccurate in Sera's case.
Based on his evaluation, Sera was within the top 1% of healers he had ever partnered with. Her timing, resource management, and grasp of the situation were impeccable — all speaking to immense potential.
If it wasn't their mundane abilities that determined how quickly the powers manifest, what was the actual determining factor?
Silently, Kieran compared everything about all the people in their camp. The comparison began with factors on Earth, but seeing as he had taken them all under his wing and formulated a regimen to eke out the finest improvement in their field, Kieran quickly found something amiss.
'I can't say for certain, but I'm inclined to believe their "awakening" is not determined by physical training. And last I checked, everyone's development is within a few percent of one another.'
After tallying the number of people manifesting above-human abilities, Kieran noticed a trend in all of them — the data leaned toward physical improvement.
Altair glanced over at Kieran, who had been ruminating the entire time.
"Still thinking about a plan?"
Kieran stirred, then shook his head.
"No. I think we really only have two options on the table: X-hancers or an Inhuman. I don't think modern medicine is a viable option here, considering Bastion wouldn't want for anything financially, but we won't strike the idea."
His expression suddenly changed as he stared at Altair, feeling unsure.
"Uh… have you guys been paid? I mean, like, I know I distribute Gold, and that could easily be sold… but did I hand out a salary?"
Altair looked at Kieran strangely, an expression of dazed disbelief.
"Is something going on with your head? I thought we all agreed the funds would go to building the organization from the ground up. To answer your question, though — no."
Something was indeed going on with his head, but Kieran wouldn't openly admit it. He settled for a wan smile and a noncommittal wave of his hand.
"Get a load of this guy — I have never seen you act in such a way. Rude, man. As you know, I've just awoken from several traumatic experiences, and what have you. Let's say my mind hasn't caught up to me yet."
The gleam of fervent curiosity shone in Altair's eyes as he listened to Kieran mention traumatic experiences.
"On the subject of those experiences, you still need to recount what you went through. What your side of the trial was like. I need to know if you fell into a situation as dark and dismal as mine."
Kieran squinted, scowled, then shook his head with a simple answer.
"Long story short, it was hell. And the infernal hell turned me into the final boss."
"Seems ominous and almost feels like an omen. What, is that a twisted sign that you'll turn on us in the end? Besides the point, you'll tell your story, and I'll tell mine."
"Yeah, I'm all for it once everything is settled."
Looking out the window of the stopped car, Kieran saw a large rectangular building, roughly seven stories high and possessing sizable dimensions. The large windows were all covered by drapes, but the canopy outside the building's exteriors revealed its identity as an elderly home for geriatric care.
After exiting the car, Kieran and Altair walked abreast, approaching the double doors beneath the canopy that slid open. The odor many medical institutions suffered from — the scent of death, some called it — assailed Kieran's senses.
"Old peoples. You know, they're a lot like children in a sense — you either love them or you hate them. And they can be real annoyances. Ankle-biters they are."
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