So, we didn’t get the main demon. I understand why Novak was on edge.

  The enemy simply vanished from sight, leaving behind a tidy void, a complete ck of information and fertiliser for paranoia. The question of whether it had all been part of some greater pn still hung in the air.

  It’s highly unlikely he intended to sacrifice all of his subordinates. More likely, he just prioritised his own safety to the extent necessary. Unlike the head of Lotus unit, he hadn’t let his guard down.

  Novak and I hadn’t rexed much either, we didn’t let ourselves get distracted. After a lyrical detour to announce the lurking danger hiding in the shadows, Novak steered the conversation back to business.

  "You have a pronounced talent for Space Qi," he continued. "And a fair amount of resources has already been invested in it. At this point, you're one of our best Space users."

  I raised an eyebrow, and Novak was quick to crify.

  "I mean among the younger generation, those still growing, not yet boxed in by limits."

  "Isn’t growth and those limits determined by the quality of materials?" I asked with a grin, nodding at the box he’d prepared for me.

  I was genuinely curious to see what bait he'd brought this time. Not once had I ever turned up my nose and said, ‘ugh — disgusting.’ If it came from Novak, it was always a real treat.

  Still, lunging at it like a starving man at a cutlet would’ve been downright uncivilised. I suppose I’ve already been a little ‘cultivated’ — absorbed some of the local culture.

  "I have some excellent breakthrough materials for the Wood. Want them? I won’t even ask for anything in return."

  I wiped the smile off my face, set my cup on the table, and raised both hands in surrender.

  Novak wagged a finger again, but this time, warningly.

  "You haven’t yet chosen your third-period study track, have you?"

  "Doctoral?" I asked, crifying, since the data wasn’t quite sticking in my head. "In Space?"

  Novak gave a faint smile and shook his head.

  "In physics, astrophysics, or astronomy."

  It took me a second to grasp what I'd just heard. Not because the word itself was difficult, but because of the weight it carried.

  I’d come to see Novak as a strategist, someone who looked at the bigger picture and noticed connections others missed.

  Novak himself had plenty of connections. Especially through his disciples, who rarely followed in their Master’s footsteps, yet still found success. Doc Bulsara with his biomedical research. Artem with his AI and biodrones. Adam and Lina didn’t stand out as much in comparison, although people said Adam was a one-man wrecking machine. I hadn’t had much contact with the other students, but it was clear this was a network that spanned an impressive range of fields.

  They hadn’t just nded where they were by chance…

  Novak had found those pces for them.

  At first gnce, a comfortable post in the portal project appealed to me far more than the role of perpetual bait for demons and magnet for disaster.

  Besides, it was genuinely meaningful, respectable work! It’s hard to overstate the importance of logistics in war. There was still time before the invasion. Could I become someone like Artem in the portal project?

  It sounded incredible, but it was no longer just some abstract possibility. This was a real offer from someone who knew what he was doing.

  Still, from his side, it might’ve been just a lucky shot. There was more logic to it than I wanted to admit. I could always go back to being bait. I could even py that role while working on the project.

  Which I absolutely, absolutely didn’t like.

  On the one hand, portals, research, thinking for a living. Fewer direct confrontations, fewer situations where survival hinged on reflexes, polished techniques, and the thickness of your armour. Honestly, it would increase my chances of staying alive. Dramatically. The people at the heart of the projects are always evacuated first, with plenty of time on the clock.

  On the other hand — Space.

  Space Qi was dangerous by default. The image of inside-out guts had been etched clearly into my mind. In reality, it probably didn’t look quite as terrifying as I imagined. A portal didn’t have to turn you inside out or explode to kill you. One miscalcution might be enough for you to simply cease to exist at point A and never appear at point B.

  I feared the Space like a caveman fears fire. Which, in fact, was a point for studying it. But even setting aside the Space itself, my amnesia definitely included physics.

  “I’m not a physicist,” I said at st. “Not even close. If you’re expecting me to do anything on the level of serious theoretical work…” I shrugged. “This isn’t exactly basic thermodynamics.”

  I wasn’t joking. And I wasn’t compining. It was a dry assessment of my capabilities.

  Yes, I had a mental technique. It let me accelerate my thinking and keep track of more streams of attention at once. But it didn’t make me smarter, it didn’t add knowledge. It just let me be confused faster.

  "I can learn," I said. "I’m not an idiot. But what you’re suggesting might be beyond what I’m capable of."

  I waited for the Master’s measured response, perhaps even some reassurance that I was, in fact, a genius. But just then, the interface flickered.

  A call from Zo came through, and I completely missed the beginning of Novak’s reply.

  Almost without thinking, I declined the call. Not because I didn’t want to talk. But right now, this conversation with Novak was more important. My future was at stake.

  "Apologies, incoming call. Could you repeat that? I need to understand what you’re actually expecting from me."

  "I’ve had almost this exact conversation before," he said again. "A few years ago, Artem asked me to find someone who could help him with the biological side of a project. He was an engineer, not a biologist. Now he’s the head of a research division."

  I let out a small snort.

  "He was already a specialist, and he knew exactly what he was missing," I corrected Novak, even wagging a finger. He raised an eyebrow, and I promptly lowered said finger.

  "He wasn’t a genius either," Novak said calmly. "And he didn’t become one through some magical transformation. He just worked. Methodically. Just like you worked on selecting your new qi in Yellow Pine."

  That gave me pause. And finally, I asked the question that had been circling in my mind from the beginning.

  "Then why not Artem?" I looked at him directly. "If portals are so important, if you need people who think systemically, why not him?"

  Novak shook his head almost immediately.

  "Because he’s already involved in something just as important," he said. "And he’s one of the best there, if not the best." He waved his hand dismissively, almost offended by the suggestion. "I’ve no right to pull someone from their field just because it would be more convenient for me. To drag him down from his pedestal and throw him in with mediocrities? That’s not strategy. That’s betrayal."

  He paused, taking a sip as the silence filled in the space.

  "You, on the other hand," he continued, "haven’t taken a final position yet. And that’s not a drawback. It’s a window of opportunity."

  Novak raised his finger again, as if something had just occurred to him, then began tapping through something in the interface.

  A moment ter, a message dropped into my inbox with an attached file, belled Chainsaw Strike 0.37 Beta.

  "A friend of mine had a look," Novak said. "At the very least, it’s Yellow-grade. No licence, so expect the interface to swear at you and ask twice before it lets you install it.

  "I’ve already praised you more than once for your perspective," Novak continued. "Don’t make me say it again. How many second-period cadets do you think can develop their own technique?"

  I gave a faint smile.

  "How many second-year cadets have a Master with so many gifted friends?"

  Novak ignored the remark.

  "It’s a sign of creativity. The ability to see things more broadly, more deeply, from a different angle. There’ll be no shortage of dry technicians. What’s needed is someone with imagination."

  He waved his hand over the table, and a rge box appeared.

  "Now for the material part," Novak said.

  The lid opened silently.

  Inside, there were no crystals, no ingots, nothing that would normally be associated with breakthrough materials. Suspended above the pedestal was a cloud of translucent bck sand. Not resting — suspended, held in a heap by the force field generated by the pedestal. Each grain looked almost ethereal. When they collided, they seemed to partially pass through one another. Not pure Space, but something very close. Something in-between. Unstable.

  "A trophy," said Novak. "From the previous operation. The Cleansing of the Bck Lotus."

  I leaned in for a better look.

  "What is it?"

  "The demons called it Dispced Sand. If you meditate on it, it can raise your Space root."

  I looked up.

  "That must be a very valuable item."

  "Incredibly!" Novak agreed. "The demons brought it with them as a tool for their observers. We were lucky enough to capture two. This one is the better sample."

  And he’d decided to give it to me…

  "Quality?"

  "No idea," Novak answered honestly. "We don’t know how to evaluate it. All we’re certain of is that this material recently degraded to Second Grade. So you can squeeze the maximum benefit out of it."

  "What does it do?"

  "Increases sensitivity and affinity."

  "That’s it?" I asked.

  This supposedly incredibly valuable miracle item wasn’t sounding quite so miraculous. Compared to Second Rhino’s Horn or Green Obsidian, it was nothing special.

  "In practical terms, it transtes to faster and more fluid use of spatial pockets. And, to some extent, you’ll be better protected from accidents reted to spatial dispcement."

  Two things came to mind. Well, one memory and one thought. The memory was of old Chen and how smoothly he’d slipped into his armour without breaking stride. The thought was that this stuff might keep my guts inside me if things went completely sideways.

  Cssic Novak. He never just handed out tasks, he gave you the tools to complete them. The real reward was personal growth and the experience I’d gain along the way.

  I hesitated.

  Even A Thousand Sparks didn’t offer an instant answer.

  "I need to think about it," I said seriously. "This isn’t a one-minute decision."

  Novak nodded, closed the box, and tucked it away into a pocket.

  "Will four days be enough?" he asked.

  His understanding irritated me.

  Or maybe… it was my understanding that irritated me. Maybe I already knew I’d agree, one way or another, and everything else was just for show. An illusion of control.

  Should I say no out of principle? Just to see his reaction?

  But would that even be worth it? Novak never gave out impossible missions. If I wasn’t being asked to move mountains, then why not try? A unique material, a unique proposal, a unique chance…

  "What are the odds I actually say no?" I asked him honestly.

  Novak shrugged.

  "They exist," he said. "It’d be a bloody stupid decision, but they exist. I never rule out even the most ridiculous possibility. But I never bet on it either. This offer benefits you just as much, maybe even more, than it benefits me."

  "Let’s not beat around the bush," I said. "I’m in."

  Novak looked me in the eye…

  "And I’ve changed my mind," he said.

  MaksymPachesiuk