Shadow of the Abyss

Upon the great wall of her Fortrest, Vaiga Darkfire bore a grim frown, looking out at the dozen rats circling the coast of her island. Their numbers had been growing as of late with Altair's achievement in boot camp alongside the rumors growing within the medical ward.

"Pesky insects." Vaiga spat, resisting the urge to slaughter the lot. She turned to Fat Mike, hovering by her side. "How is he?"

"Truthfully."

"Aren't you always?" Vaiga asked.

Fat Mike gave a hefty laugh and shook his head. " He's a bloody monster. When I took you in some twenty years ago, I thought you were a monster, the highest level of talent our planet ever bore, but Altair makes you look average." He said in a reminiscent tone, recalling her younger days. "He excels in everything.

Aerospace Engineering, Combat Training, Firearm Practice, Mental Fortitude, Mana Manipulation, Leadership, Strategy, and Patience. He excels in it all. And not to the level of a normal soldier but a seasoned trooper. I've never seen anything like it. He's perfect."

"Oh? That's quite high praise coming from you. Then tell me of his weakness?" Vaiga inquired with a gentle smile. "I'm sure you  found at least one."

"Pride, maybe. He's going through puberty, so he's feeling himself right now." Fat Mike said after some thought. "And… he feels fake."

"Fake?"

Fat Mike nodded. "Not many see it. But his smile is like a mask like I've never seen before. The boy is very well trained. So much so it's hard to believe he is human." He frowned, folding his arms. "When he speaks at times, it's like he's acting out a play.

Like everyone dancing to his tone."

Brows grew knitted. " I don't see how that's a weakness."

"That's because you're not a strategist like me," Mike said. "Altair is charming, joyful, and very easy to get along with. I've yet to see anyone hate him. Shit, even those two from House Aros seem to be comfortable around him. That mask of his is weak right now, but it's slowly becoming tempered with time. Should he insight a rebellion, we are all fucked.

"

"So we need to lock him down, is what you're trying to say." Vaiga smiled, chuckling to herself. "Two thousand years and Earth has not bore a single transcendent, much less a lesser deity. Altair might be the first. Do you think that locking him down will do anything?" She shook her head. "I've seen men and women cut their children's throats, sell them, or worse.

Locking him won't work if he's a degenerate. It'll only provoke our ruin."

"I agree. That's why I handed him to Vincent. That bastard is like a father and uncle to many soldiers." Fat Mike informed her. "Speaking of which, I hear Altair has a girl. A redhead."

Vaiga picked up a brow. "Oh?"

"Thing is… I've not spotted a single Red Head coming or going towards his private quarters. Yet, every day, he has a strand of red hair on his uniform. I checked the cameras. Curious, isn't it? My guess is teleportation."

"That's a very rare ability."

"But not outside the realm of possibility."

Admiral Darkfire narrowed her pearly violet eyes. "You could instruct a time mage from the towers."

"To find out who he's fucking? Pass," Fat Mike laughed, peeking a single eye open. "Unless you're jealous of something."

"He's twelve.'

"Age is but a number."

"It's a word, actually." She said, frowning. "Summon Altair later and question him. We need to find out if we have a leak on our base."

"Well, I kind of gave him the week." Fat Mike revealed, grinning, as Vaiga snapped her head to him. " Seems he's trying to mend Sanders back together. Today marks the fourth day. At least, that's what I've been told from Amilia's daily updates. And it's working."

"S…Sanders is returning!"

***

Drenched, Altair gritted his teeth, surrounded by golden flecks of light dancing from his palm. Beneath his hands, a large muscular man built like a truck, shredded beyond measure, bearing thick, elongated veins protruding from his body. Altair couldn't believe the level difference between now and four days ago.

From Sander's charts, Altair knew his body was utterly cripple. Everything about him seemed to have been rotted, down to his blood, turning black like tar. How he was still alive, Altair did not know. But it left him only one place to start: The bone.  Specifically, his spine to help generate blood through the bone marrow. Next came the heart to help cycle new layers of blood through the body.

For a solid twenty hours, Altair worked without stopping, eating only what Amilia brought him and sleeping for four hours as per his body's demand despite his persistent discontent. His only solace was that Sanders Circle and Meridians had been dried for years, allowing him to better aid Sander's body to naturally heal after persistent aid.

By the fourth day, Altair had managed to awaken his healing factor, healing about ten percent of his body, meeting his goal.

He collapsed, bearing a smile. "How's he looking?"

Holding the scanner, Amilia traced it down Saunder's body and grinned. "Amazing… utterly amazing. He's actually recovering on his own. You really did it."

Sprawled out on the floor, Altair grinned.

[Hands of Nirvana]

Proficiency F → E

Knowing he'd done what he set out to do, Altair narrowed his eyes and began to massage his tight shoulder, releasing a pleasurable moan, feeling his raw meridians begin to heal, enjoying his hands so much, his soft snores began to resound as he fell asleep.

"Did he… Bloody Hells." Amilia griped, stomping her foot. " How can you be so irresponsible?" she asked, poking at his sleeping face. "How could you not sleep on a bed?" she grinned, standing back up to find cold eyes staring back at her.

"C-C-Commander?" Amilia stammered as a horrid presence bore on her, forcing her to her knees. A rush of stone-cold killing intent dominated the present space.

"I… I'm alive?" He coldly said, pulling the tubes from the back of his throat. "How? Jamie said I was to die for my sins." he rasped, jerking the needles from his veins. He looked up at Amila for answers.

"We… We saved you." Amilia said, gulping, so overwhelmed her throat began to close. "Please… Admiral… Dark…fire…"

Barging in, Vaiga swept her palm through the air, dismissing his presence with her own. "Easy, champ."

"V…Vaiga?" Sanders vaguely muttered. "How are you… You made Admiral! How long have I been out?" he quivered to say, noticing her attire.

"About twenty years teach." She answered, nearly jumping into his embrace. When she noticed Altair snoring away, she glanced at Amilia, sweating bricks, a disheveled mess.

'How is he so fine?' she thought, rushing to him to check his pulse. When she determined he was fine. Vaiga sighed with a bit of relief.

"Seems the treatment was a success. I—"

"Where the hell is Jamie?" Sander roared, coughing up a mouthful of tar from his mouth. He paled, stumbling back to his bed. "That bastard… That bastard did this."

"What are you—"

Sanders glared, wiping the blood away. "He poisoned me. He said it before I lost consciousness."

Vaiga frowned when she noticed Altair suddenly snap up. "Power nap over." He robotically said and glanced around at the tense atmosphere and decided to take his leave. 'I'm going to just go. See ya~"

Jerking the boy on his collar before he could escape, Vaiga smirked. " You think I'm a fool?"

Altair, standing a head taller, grinned wryly. " Admiral… This seems like something confidential. How about I—"

"Shut it."

"Yes, Ma'am."

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Vaiga shifted her gaze to Sanders. " This is the boy who saved your life. We'll discuss your situation later. But for now. Thanks are in order." she pushed Altair towards him. "This is the kid who saved you."

"This kid?" Sander said with a measuring gleam. He surveyed the boy up and down. "How old are you, boy? You look like your mother's tit is still fresh on your breath."

Altair brow twitched, 'fucking boomer!' he thought, with a bright smile. " I'm twelve, Commander, sir."

"And you healed me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Why?"

"Huh?" Altair raised a brow. "What do you—"

"Why did you, Altair, heal me? Be front with me, boy. I'm not a man to be lied to." Sanders warned, his eyes burning with a mighty presence. And he recalled this very boy sleeping through his aura as if it were nothing.

He didn't for a second believe it was for the kindness of his heart.

"A plethora of reasons," Altair told him without even a hint of shame. "The biggest was to get more resources, but the second was making you a commander owe me a favor." He said, gauging Sander's icy expression, and continued. "My commander lieutenant told me you refused help from Genisis, claiming you wanted to die on Earth. This tells me you are very prideful.

So I know even now as I tell you this, you'll return me the favor one day."

"Aidios!" Vaiga cursed. Unable to believe Altair would be so blunt. She reached for him, ready to pull him away, when Sander's laughter bellowed through the medical ward.

"Good on you, Boy! Good!" he roared. " You play the game well! Reward him well, Vaiga."

Nudging her temple, Vaiga looked at him. " You realize I'm the commander, right?"

"Piss on your title, girl!" He laughed. "Come on then, where are my hugs? Or are you too above to show any love for the old man who looked after you since you first learned to shit."

"Uncle…"

"Hugs. Now." He demanded, opening up his arms wide like a great bear. And Vaiga relented.

"Welcome back, Uncle."

Watching Vaiga embrace the massive bear, Altair glanced at Amilia, who shrugged, a little unsure of the relationship between the two of them.

"Hells, woman, you run fast." Fat Mike cursed, popping his head in, his face a waterfall of sweat and grease, wheezing for air. "Oh, Sanders, your back! Good on you, old man."

Somewhat out of place, Altair took his leave without a sound as he watched what seemed like a joyous reunion. He hadn't seen Ren in four days and had been looking forward to it. But as he approached his quarters, he paused at the sight of seven men outside his door.

"I told your dumb ass he ain't here."

"He got a wolf, don't he? Hilda has been asking to see it. Let's just get it and go."

"And how do you suppose we get in?"

"I can hack the pin."

"You can barely count to ten. What the fuck ya hacking?

Sensing a problem, Altair glanced at the camera within the corridor and then stepped forward. "What seems to be the issue?"

One of the men, a tall, blonde-haired man, thin with a scar cutting across his nose, grinned, bearing the rank of lieutenant. "Altair, right? Have you not been taught to salute."

Altair glanced at his door and slid his gaze to the scarred man and his posse.  He saluted. "Well? What can I do for you, Sir?"

"It's Lieutenant Jor Silmar," he corrected. "And I'm here to conduct a random spot and contraband check."

Expressionless, Altair nodded.

"So open these doors."

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