Engin

  Engram Tree Detected: Unchained Dreamer

  A nervous excitement buzzed inside of Engin's stomach. He'd never even considered the possibility that he could be touched with a blessing. But an Engram Tree... the probability of that was... quite unknown? Throughout all of the reading he had done on the Aya Machine, most compendiums only ever mentioned Trees in brief passing, claiming them to be extremely ancient and complex manifestations lost in the machine. Archival research showed that there were indeed a fair amount of individuals in the world's history blessed with Engram Trees as opposed to singular Engrams, however, there was always a bit of uncertainty in their potency of effect. This was due to the fact that Engram trees were found to be entirely unpredictable in nature. Some being completely dysfunctional in application and others laying dormant forever in the lobe, never awakening at all.

  Engin remembered what Perry had told him a long time ago; how it was his dream to craft and etch a working Engram Tree. Modern primanetics did not have this capability. When the Monarchs Fell, all of sovereign innovation was lost, perished right alongside their people and great cities.

  If there ever was going to be another golden age of primanetics, it would likely begin at the synthesis of a modern Engram Tree.

  I wish you were still here, Perry... I wish I could show you this...

  Engin continued to stare at the words... Unchained Dreamer... he hadn't the slightest idea of what that could entail.

  If it was detected by the machine...is it already awakened? How do I find out?

  The white sand beneath Engin's feet began to swirl. A soft breeze turned rapidly fast.

  He'd forgotten that he was still in the chamber. Somehow, this was not all a dream.

  The dunes of sand began to rise on their own volition, churning and rotating into a wall of ivory mass. There was no glass anymore, there was no chamber. There was only a sea of sand.

  Suddenly, it started to pelt him. A storm of wind and dust, rushing into his eyes.

  He used his hands to shelter his face. A sharp pain shot up his spine, forcing him to kneel forward. The sounds around him funneled like a rage of air passing from under a bridge.

  Engin looked down at his feet. He saw grass.

  He looked back up. The sand was gone.

  A valley of mountains had appeared, swaying in the distance amongst the clouds. The air was warm like a baker’s oven, the sky a palisade of streaking vapor.

  His hands touched a rocky turf. Around him, the land did not stretch far. He was on the peak of a valley, the triangular edge of a cliffside jutted out over a steep fall to whatever it was that lay below.

  Engin stood up for the first time. His footing was… surprisingly strong.

  Where in primahells am I?

  To his right was a large tree, like a grandfather oak, still brimming with life. Its leaves were a yellowish orange, its branches a rustic brown.

  Hold on...is that a bloody mouse?!

  Beneath the tree, with its feet outstretched in dark loafers and hands folded neatly over its chest, was a silver-furred rodent, who seemed like it was enjoying the greatest nap, snoring to the tune of a newborn baby. It had a sunhat on its head and a beige colored garb that looked almost tattered — pulled out from some dump in the shanties.

  Engin walked closer to the tree. Curious, but still cautious.

  Snap!

  His foot fell on a branch, crunching the decaying wood beneath his sandals.

  “Huh-huh!” The rodent startled awake! It grabbed at a small lance-like weapon, resting against the tree beside it. The silver engravings on the weapon flared red, its metal almost spinning or turning like a corkscrew.

  Engin surrendered his hands into the air.

  “Who the hell are you!” The rodent shrieked.

  “I-I don’t know!” Engin stumbled over his words. “I mean. I know who I am! But I don’t know why I’m here… I’m- I’m Engin!”

  Engin wanted to smack his own forehead. Great going, Engy. Now the mouse will think you’re an idiot.

  The rodent’s eyes narrowed as he rose on his loafers. He was about Engin’s height, a few good inches shorter than six feet.

  “Bloody hells! You’re just a kid!”

  Engin took offense to that coming from a mouse. “I’m not a kid! I’m sixteen, going on seventeen soon actually!”

  The rodent’s nose shriveled, his jaw dropping in a comical but seriously dumbfounded manner. “100 years… I go a hundred years waiting for another one of you idiots, and the best I get is a kid. A snotty, whiny, good for nothing kid…”

  “Oy! The only one whining right now is you, mouse!”

  “I’M NOT A MOUSE! I’M A BLOODY RAT YOU IMBECILE!” The rodent raised his weapon, pointing the end towards Engin's face.

  Engin stepped a few paces back. “Alright, Tiols… I haven’t met anyone that would claim that title so proudly.”

  “IT’S NOT A TITLE!” The rat burst out. “IT’S ME— IT’S WHO I AM! A RAT! LONG TAIL, BIG BACK, GREY FUR — A RAT! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT! NOT A MOUSE — A RAT!”

  The rat’s face had puffed with rage, his hat tipping to one side as he stabbed his lance into the ground.

  “It’s because you humans are hateful creatures! You hate anything that thinks differently than you or acts different or looks different. A rat is not a SNITCH… or, or, or… an honor-less vermin! A rat is a SURVIVOR, an intelligent being who sees the world for what it really is... HELL!”

  Engin took another step back. This thing has some serious anger issues.

  “Alright, alright, calm down.” Engin lowered his hands. “I’m sorry I called you a mouse. And… for implying that being a rat is inherently a bad thing.”

  “Oh, you’ll be sorry alright.” The rat chuckled, looking away as if he was about to slap his knee.

  “What do you mean…”

  “You said you’re sixteen, right?”

  “Yes.”

  The rat’s mouth opened to show a toothy grin. “Oh yes, you are definitely dead then.”

  “Pardon?!”

  “Dead, kid. You’re going to die. You might as well run off that cliff right now, because it’ll be better than what is going to happen to you once the engram starts working its magic. You’re not supposed to awaken this tree until you’re much older, and even then, most idiots struggle to contain the power. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to watch some poor bum spontaneously combust because their itty-bitty little prima lobes couldn’t handle the extents of my master’s creation.”

  “Whoa, whoa, slow down, rat. Are you saying this engram tree is going to kill me?!”

  “Pshhh-” The rat snarled. “This is why I hate kids… I SAID THAT DIDN’T I? Three times already if you weren’t listening! Want me to help you get it over with right now?!”

  “HOW DO I STOP IT THEN?!”

  “You can’t. The Aya Machine blessed you. You can’t deny a blessing.”

  “THIS DOESN’T SEEM LIKE A VERY GOOD BLESSING IF ITS GOING TO KILL ME!”

  “WELL OBVIOUSLY NOT! AND STOP YELLING AT ME ABOUT IT! I SHOULD BE THE ONE YELLING AT YOU! YOU’VE PRACTICALLY GUARANTEED ANOTHER 100 YEARS TRAPPED IN THIS HELL HOLE FOR ME!”

  Engin tightened his fists, exhaling a heavy sigh.

  “You’re going to help me figure this out, rat.”

  The rat stared at him confused, eyebrows raised, slightly astonished at the attitude. “Excuse me?”

  “That’s why you’re here right? Why else would you be here? Rats don’t talk. Rats aren’t normally this big. You’re in my head. You’re not real!”

  “Watch your mouth kid!”

  “If I was given this blessing, I was given it for a reason!”

  The rat buried his forehead into his hands. “That is not how it works, kid. The Aya machine doesn’t choose people, it spits out blessings through random chance. It has a database of engrams stretching far back to the edges of its creation. You’re just the poor sucker who happened upon an engram tree he won’t be able to contain.”

  “How do you know that for sure?” Engin challenged him.

  The rat frowned back. “Well nothing is ever for sure.”

  “Right, so then help me out until it is for sure. Until I die like you say I will. If that’s really going to happen, then everything will just go back to how it was for you. You can return to your little nap by the tree and I can…”

  “What, die?”

  “Yes!” Engin announced confidently.

  "HAHAHAHA!" The rat started to heave out a raspy chuckle. It got so bad it had to pound its chest a few times to stop the wheezing. "You know what kid? At least you’ve got balls!”

  Engin did not know if he was supposed to thank the rat for that. He chose to remain quiet.

  “Alright, then." The rat said, catching its breath. "Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  The rat grasped the hilt of its lance, grinding it into the ground, like it was drilling a hole.

  The turf around Engin began quake, as if the edge of the cliffside was about to collapse under its own weight.

  “What’re you doing-”

  Astonishingly, his surroundings melted away. Every blink he took was like a curtain-fall to a stage show; something moved, or something changed.

  This is not real. None of this is real. He told himself.

  “Wake up, kid!” The rat’s voice boomed in his head.

  Engin startled in his place. He hadn’t realized that he had closed his eyes.

  He tried to move his feet.

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  Big mistake.

  His sandals slogged through muddy soil.

  Ugh, he muttered, looking down at the sludge.

  They were in the plains now. Somewhere in the distance beyond them, thunder rumbled.

  When Engin looked up, he saw a copper darkness to the skies. A light drizzle had begun to fall, streaming down the lean features of his face.

  Something about this was different. He could taste it in the breeze; a salty brine. An eerie frost that was both warm and cold, clamping down on his skin like a humid summer day.

  “What is this feeling?” Engin asked, a growing pain bouncing back and forth in his head.

  “T-Particles.” The rat's voice boomed again, its face suddenly appearing very close to Engin's. “The coming of any tempest will bring its surge.”

  Right, Engin recalled. He’d felt like this before. Sorens Peak would get at least one or two tempests a year. It was similar. But it was never this strong. Never this... debilitating.

  "Why is it so..."

  "Irritating?" The rat smirked, using its lance like a cane. "The concentration of T-particles here is particularly high. Not even close to as high as it can be... but for someone like you... this is rather uncharted territory. Notice the hue of the skies, that —sniff sniff— retched smell of chaos in the air. You see, kid, Tempest Particles are the bane of any Aya life form. It seeps through your mote shield with relative ease, weakening your senses, your resolve, too much of it and your prima lobe will go haywire, a little more than too much and you'll die on the spot. A perfect scenario — to see if you're really worth my time."

  "How — ughh." The rat's lance pierced Engin's chest with a sudden strength, drawing blood and foam out of his mouth. He coughed it up, the pain too strong to bare.

  Engin felt betrayed. He gazed into the rat's eyes. There was nothing there. No compassion.

  Why...

  The rat pushed his lance deeper, drawing a jolt out of Engin's spine.

  "This... isn't... real." Engin uttered weakly, gargling more fluid.

  The rat grinned at him, satisfied. "It may not be your reality, kid. But that doesn't mean it isn't real." The rat used its other hand to thrust a palm into Engin's chest.

  Engin felt a heavy force propel him backwards. For moment, it felt like freefall, as if he was gliding through an endless abyss. But when his mind settled, and his body reawakened, he was back in the same mud he was standing in before, as if nothing had happened, as if time had reversed.

  "You're not ready, kid. You may never be ready." The rat's voice loomed in the clouds. Jettisoning down from the skies like a fallen angel, the rat's form appeared once again, rattling the ground with a powerful gravity as its feet touched the floor.

  Engin marveled at the display of power motes surrounding the rat, revolving about him like millions of tiny red stars. It was the most intimidating feat of channeling he had ever witnessed. All from one rat. A Tiol-forsaken rat!

  The rat is right... Engin thought it over. I'm no one. I...

  No! He was tired of hearing people tell him that! Tired of believing it himself!

  Engin strutted forward with as much confidence as he could muster, getting into the rat's face, staring him down with conviction. "Try me again rat... I'm ready this time."

  The rat merely rolled his eyes. "False bravado."

  Another strike with the lance. But this time Engin batted it away with his mote shield. His eyes flared red, preparing himself to fight if it was necessary.

  The rat stepped back, unimpressed. Then it lunged forward, without warning. Engin was ready... or so he thought. When he went to swat away the oncoming charge, his body moved like molasses, as if he wasn't in control. Within seconds, the rat had already pierced a hole through his mote shield, shattering it like glass. Engin tried to fight back, but his senses were slogged, his vision blurring at the worst moments, his head pounding away like a raging giant.

  The T-particles. Engin realized. They're draining me.

  By the end of the rat's flurry, Engin had a dozen craters on his body. He stood their teetering, like a human slice of holed-cheese.

  "How do I fight..." Engin asked, falling to his knees. "If I can't move... can't see... can't... keep up..."

  "Resolve... and perception." The rat answered, sticking his bloodied lance into the ground again, circling Engin's body. "The hallmark of any great Aya user worth their salt. If you cannot focus... if you cannot channel, in conditions like these... then this tree is already too far above your ambitions. You'll die, kid. I have no doubts."

  Engin caught himself from falling over into the grass, using the last of his strength to support his body.

  "Why do you fight it, kid." The rat leaned over, staring down at him. "What is it that you want so badly?"

  "I want to be something. I want to find my dream. Everyone I know has something they strive for. Something they love to do. I feel so numb... so..."

  A seething pain cleaved at the corners of his temple. Engin shouted out in pure agony, a surge of adrenaline coursing through him.

  "What do you see?"

  What do I see...

  Engin repeated the phrase in his head, as if it was a hymn. The words turned to conviction... conviction into inner resolve.

  Engin's vision set ablaze a canvas of chaos, thousands of memories flooding through, some recognizable, some completely foreign. A graveyard of fallen soldiers. A painting covered in ash. A landstag dressed in gold, and a manor... burning to the ground. The final scene that he witnessed, disappeared within seconds, but the memory of its contents had imprinted onto him stronger than anything before it. A shackled man, sitting legs crossed in a tiny cell at the side of a mountain. The sun was a desert orange, casting shadows through his cell bars. The man had long white hair, dark blue skin, and sooty black powder surrounding his meditating eyes.

  "If you survive this, kid..." The rat's voice returned, a hint of sympathy this time. "The name is Thatch. And you'd do yourself good not to speak of this to anyone. Power is a curious thing. It can bring you the best of fortune... and the worst of prying eyes."

  ...

  [Engram Tree Awakened]

  Four pillars of mote energy billowed into columns of fire in front of Engin. One of them was almost translucent, silver at its peak.

  Shield Motes. Engin recognized immediately.

  The second flame beside it was red, symbolizing power. The third was a witch's green for hex motes. And the fourth... was smaller than the rest, a rustic orange, something he had only ever seen in illustration before; Flux Motes.

  Everything in the chamber had happened so fast that he hadn't even had time to wrap his head around that revelation earlier.

  He'd have to read up on Flux motes again, but as far as he knew they had something to do with spatial probability manipulation. It was an extremely difficult channel to master, and a daunting challenge just to even conjure them. Merabella also had flux motes detected in her lobe. The last time she had mentioned it however was in a rant about how she had given up all hope of ever being able to conjure them.

  Maybe I can talk to her about it. She's probably studied them more than me.

  Engin was clearly at a crossroads in the machine. The Engram Tree wanted him to make a choice.

  It says applying affinity to any channel below Tier 2 would be null. I only really have two options here.

  Power motes, or shield motes.

  I feel the most confident in my power mote training. I know I can train that well enough if I put my mind to it.

  A part of him considered if it would be a wiser choice to apply affinity to his shield channel, which was evidently weaker. But he figured it was better to focus on his strengths at the moment, and work on his shield motes down the line. He needed to stand out during the stormrunner trials to be considered for selection, and the smartest way to do that was to put his best foot forward first.

  Walk. A hissing voice inside of him spoke.

  Engin felt his body move on its own, trudging forward, giving him no capacity to stop.

  He walked into the red flame, feeling no sensation as he passed through.

  The scenery changed again.

  Power Mote Channel Affinity granted...

  Power Mote Channel Tier Enhanced...

  New Database Comparison: Tier 4

  *Your every step brings you closer, dreamer.

  Base Engram Encoded...

  [Unchained Mind]

  Minimum Engram Requirements — Aya Flow Rate : 6.0 m/s

  *Your resolve has deepened... your perceptive mind, ready to be unleashed...

  What is your path dreamer... you must find it.

  Unchained Dreamer — Engrams Available for Encoding

  [Dreamwalker - 1 unit]

  Minimum Engram Requirements — Aya Flow Rate : 6.0 m/s

  *Your every step leaves in its wake a puddle of dreams... what you reap from it... is what you sow.

  [Lucid Limbs - 1 unit]

  Engram Requirements — Aya Flow Rate: 6.5 m/s, Aya Pulse Grade : C15

  *Your body moves with the fluidity of your dreams...

  I only have one option here. The second engram requires an Aya flow rate of 6.5 m/s.

  Dreamwalker Encoded...

  New Estimated Available Engram Capacity: 3 units

  Initialization Complete

  The pain that followed was the worst of the entire day. There was no other way to describe it other then it feeling like finality. A true end, to whatever it was that he had experienced.

  Engin awoke tired and disoriented in a remedy room bed. The covers were wrapped tight around his body and his back was drenched in a puddle of his own sweat. The entire room was snoring beneath a blue darkness seeping in from the windows. On the bed beside Engin, an older gentlemen in blue nightwear and white wrapping around his forehead was dangling his legs off to the side as he whispered sweet-nothings into his pillow.

  I hate the smell of this place.

  Like wilted flowers and old blood.

  Engin shifted under the clammy sheets, every movement pulling at his muscles, leaving behind a wake of pain. His mouth was dry, his tongue heavy and bitter.

  The events inside of the chamber came back to him.

  He wondered if it all had been just a dream. A crazy, whacked-out dream.

  As if on cue, the Aya machine buzzed inside of him, announcing its presence. He felt it's undulations, cradled beneath the conscience of his mind.

  Stupid rat. I'm alive aren't I? I may be in the remedy room but I'm bloody alive! I'll show him... I'll show him what I'm capable of when I put my mind to something...

  The older man beside him giggled softly into his pillow, smacking his lips. "Miamo my love.. mmm...how I mish you dearly...mi-mi."

  Engin rolled away to the other side.

  He had a lot to consider. And a lot to research going forward. If he was going to master his new found abilities, he had to be smart about it. He had to find the best ways to train. He already had a few ideas in mind of where to start looking. And for the first time in a long time... he felt like he had a future.