Chapter 1 – The Scout and the Hero

“Scout Phantos, you have been assigned to a special Class C mission. Please report to the Summoning Room at o’900 sharp. I repeat, Scout Phantos, please report to the Summoning Room at o’900 sharp. Thank you.”

A thin, rune-inlaid panel on the wall lit up a vibrant green as the abrupt announcement echoed through a decently sized, beige-walled single apartment. Once completed, both the light and reserved female voice which delivered the message vanished, leaving the young Amon Phantos to linger in the tattered remains of the tranquil silence that had once permeated the room. Try as he might to return his brush to the canvas that had previously been the focus of his attention, he knew that he would not be allowed the peace needed to make any substantial progress. The painting of the young woman that rested upon his easel would, sadly, have to wait. But such was the nature of work.

With a resigned sigh, Amon cleaned his brush and stored his supplies in the chipped blue metal box that sat at his side before taking a final look at the canvas. Looking back at him were the bright emerald eyes of the cherry-blonde beauty in an elegant white and blue sundress whose radiance he was failing to convey in a way that satisfied him. His shoulders began to tense up in frustration, but with a deep breath and a little focus, he managed to stifle the emotion. Relaxed once more (as relaxed as he could be, anyways, given the prospect of actually having to work for a living), the artist covered his yet-unfinished piece with a protective sheet. With his current project sufficiently preserved, he glanced hesitantly towards the clock that hung on the single conspicuously undecorated wall of the room. The blazing red “8:00” made him wince, both from the physical pain derived from the sudden harshness of the glowing numbers, and from the confirmation that he, as he feared, had gotten no sleep that night. He turned away and rubbed his eyes with the sections of his hands that weren’t splattered with paint.

“Tch, not even a week break between missions?” he yawned to himself. “What are the worlds coming to? And what makes this one ‘special?’”

It was his job, though, so there was no use complaining about it. And perhaps, he thought, he might encounter some interesting new scenery while in the field. The thought helped him find the resolve necessary to lift himself from his chair and begin preparing for the doubtlessly long day ahead of him. Hopefully, he thought, it is only one day this time.

Taking care not to step on the discarded canvasses that littered the floor – failed attempts of the various different pieces he had been trying to complete for the past few months – he managed to amble his way over to the bathroom. With a quiet creak, he turned the faucet and allowed the sound of the water to wash over him as he studied his own visage in the mirror.

Staring back at him was a relatively tan, lean-muscled young man of about 5’6”. His soft, clean-shaven face was accentuated by sharp, dark black hair that tapered off into light pink tips that seemed to have brightened further due to an overabundance of sun – a consequence of his last mission. It would have been a very lively image had his bright, auburn eyes not been marred by thick black bags and his lean figure not been masked by a smock that held on it more paint than any portrait he had ever completed.

Amon gave his disheveled reflection a half-frown. He honestly hadn’t intended to stay awake the whole night; he believed that proper rest was important to let a creative mind flourish. But when the urge hit him, he simply couldn’t hide it. “I’ll just have to work through the exhaustion,” he said aloud, hoping silently that this would be an easier mission than the last.

After a quick shower, the telltale signs of sleeplessness on his face were far less noticeable. Likewise, slipping on his slender Scout uniform brought out the well-built form that the smock had so perfectly concealed. The long black pants were perfectly pressed, as were the black collared shirt and the navy blue jacket that rested overtop it. As he slipped the jacket on, a small shield-shaped emblem appeared on the side of its left shoulder. Within the emblem were two adjoined diamonds that formed a “V” shape. This was his License, the visual indicator of his status as a C-Rank Scout.

Satisfied that he didn’t look like a complete rag anymore, Amon prepared himself a quick breakfast of toast and an apple. He ate while packing his personal necessities in a travel bag: a spare watch matching the one currently on his wrist, spare clothes and outfits for different weather conditions, snacks, and water. He then added a small sketchbook and an assortment of pencils, a couple of erasers, and a sharpener. Once all of those were properly in place, he slipped open his bag’s secret compartment. Inside, he stowed an additional sketchbook, along with a small collection of colored pencils. Carefully re-sealing the secret compartment, he glanced over to the clock once more. The no-longer-searing numbers now read out “8:37.”

Plenty of time to make it to the Summoning Room, he thought to himself. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he shuffled over to the entranceway. Hanging on hooks by the door were two important items. The first, his keys. Definitely need those. The second was a small obsidian cloth scarf – one of the gifts his parents had given him, before they…

He carefully removed the garment from its hook and adeptly wrapped it around himself, as he’d done so many times before. He didn’t even need to check the mirror to make sure that he had put it on properly; the feeling alone was enough to confirm it. Once it was on, he closed his eyes and gave the cloth in front of his neck a light squeeze with his right hand. One for good luck.

Now fully ready, he grabbed his keys, opened the door, and locked it behind him.

The soft blue light of the morning aurora – the closest thing that Terminal had to a sun – illuminated the glorious golden grass that populated the campus field. This field stretched between the newly renovated, bright gray apartment complex that Amon had just exited and the main building of his employer: the Summoned Hero Association, Western Branch.

Four main branches of the Association graced Terminal, each in one of the four cardinal directions. Besides Central – the governing body of the world – it was the only organization with such a widespread presence. Of course, given how integral it was to Terminal’s ongoing survival, some might have argued that even that wasn’t enough reach.

For all of the prestige and responsibility that the Association name carried, the Western complex itself wasn’t particularly large: three stories of pristine white tile and reinforced glass, occupying a 90 x 120 ft. space surrounded by a combination of similarly styled apartment complexes, recreational facilities, and flowing golden grass. It was the most recently built branch of the four, though, which meant that it had the most advanced facilities and the nicest renovations. The only branch that could compare was the Northern one, which doubled as the organization’s HQ.

Amon sleepily reflected on that information as he pulled the key from the lock and stepped back to admire the building. His room was Room 1, the very first door on the very first floor. Convenience at its finest.

It almost made him forget the fact that the other nine rooms were totally unoccupied. And unlike some of the other rooms on the campus, they weren’t vacant due to occupational casualties.

Amon gave a bitter sigh. He was glad, of course, that they weren’t vacant for such a morbid reason. In fact, occupational casualties had been on the decline recently. But that didn’t make the actual reason for their vacancies any more palatable for him. Not wanting to harp on it, though, he turned around and walked down the three short steps that deposited him onto one of the field’s numerous walkways.

The field itself was relatively empty at the moment. A mere handful of unsorted individuals made their way across the neatly laid stone paths. None of them bore a uniform, no doubt because it was the weekend; most of them were being spared the frustration of actually needing to be up and about like Amon. Despite that, he let out a small sigh of relief at the situation; fewer people around meant fewer judgmental faces.

That thought lingered only for a few moments, though, as he briskly made his way across the field directly towards the main building. In his haste, he paid no heed to the walkways. Tender crunches emanated from the golden grass as they were crushed beneath his feet. Yet after every step, they sprang back into place, completely unharmed. By the time that Amon landed on the pathway that led into the building, it was as if nobody had walked across the grass at all.

With his body making its way to the West-side door that would take him almost directly to the Summoning Room, his mind began to wander back to the unfinished painting that sat covered in his room. Or to be more specific, they wandered to the woman that he had been attempting to paint.

Not long after he had returned from his previous mission, he’d been given a photo of the woman and asked to paint her portrait. It was a fine reference, but he could tell at a glance that it did the subject no justice. There was just something about her that was missing from the picture. She was gorgeous, that was certain: emerald eyes shining against her golden cherry hair like jewels before a brilliant sunset, clear tan skin blessed with a small, glowing smile, and a figure that could put models to shame. But there was just something about the smile that wasn’t quite genuine; something hidden that he knew he needed to capture, though he had no possible way of finding out what it might be. The tension began returning to his shoulders as his pace and inner conversation quickened. Melancholy? No, the smile wasn’t forced, it was just… Incomplete? Something on her mind? Regret? Maybe nostalgia? What could she have been feeling…?

He was so engrossed in his returning frustration that he didn’t notice the fact that the woman who had so thoroughly consumed his thoughts was making her way towards him. That is, until he walked right into her.

Whump

The inner dialogue ceased, allowing Amon to register his surroundings once again. The hallway was dead silent, and his vision was completely dark. But it felt like two heavenly pillows had enveloped his head, and he swore he could make out the faint scent of… perfume…

…shit…

Slowly, carefully, he took a step back. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the woman whose softly bouncing chest he had just accidentally walked into. Her eyes trembled as her face shifted from lightly tan to a bright vermillion. From the heat rising up his cheeks, he’d wager that his face was turning a similar hue. With his hands raised and shaking, he took another step back.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean- I was thinking about a painting I was working on, and I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”

The heat in his face kept rising as Amon ran out of words. It was the truth, but it was a stupid excuse. There’s no way that she would believe-

“So you were. Are… you alright?”

Wait, what?

The heat quickly vanished from Amon’s face, replaced instead with a raised eyebrow and slightly agape mouth. The woman he had just walked into was now studying him carefully, a hint of concern visible across her face. The color of her face had softened to just a modest rosy hue, and her once-trembling emerald eyes now seemed to pierce right through him as she moved whisps of vibrant cherry-blonde hair out of her face.

Now that he was seeing her fully, there was no mistaking it: this was the person that he had been commissioned to paint. She was wearing a simple but elegant red and black dress rather than the flowing blue and white one she’d been wearing in the picture, but this seemed to suit her much better. Before he could react to that fact, though, the familiar swinging of tightly braided black locks caught his attention. A deep-brown skinned man in a sharp, tieless, black and red suit stepped out from behind woman.

“Well now, that’s certainly one way for our fine artistic friend to make an introduction!” he proclaimed, arms raised to address the non-existent crowd before him.

The well-dressed and perfectly groomed goofball was a man that Amon knew as Erik Vail, the appointed Director of the Western Branch. He was also the one who had commissioned Amon to paint the portrait of the woman whose chest he’d recently become acquainted with, and provided the accompanying picture. As for why he was here though, and with the very same woman no less, was completely beyond the young man. But he was used to Erik’s personal brand of eccentricity – and frankly, he found it rather fun, at times, to play along. And so, without skipping a beat, he cleared his throat and then followed with a low, sweeping bow and a terribly affected accent:

“I’m a man of many renowned talents, but I must confess: introductions are not one of them!”

The two looked each other in the eye and shared a wry smile. Amon permitted himself a light chuckle which was quickly drowned out by Erik’s own hearty laughter. The Director’s voice would have continued to fill the hallway unopposed had it not been interrupted by a noticeably stifled snort. Raising their heads, they both managed to catch the young woman with her left hand raised in front of her mouth. The slightest hint of an amused grin was creeping out from behind it. Amon picked himself up from his bow with a relieved smile. With the knowledge that few first meetings could possibly have been as awful as the one that had just occurred, he extended his hand towards her without apprehension.

“I really am sorry about that,” he began genuinely. “My name is Amon. It’s nice to meet you.”

Moving her left hand away from her face, the woman extended her right out to shake his. Her eyes had softened, which helped bring his heart rate back down. “It’s nice to meet you, Amon. My name is Elise.” And then with a small smile, she added, “Well now, for someone so bad with introductions, that second one wasn’t bad at all.”

Amon couldn’t help but give a relieved laugh. “I just got lucky the second time.”

After letting their hands drop, Erik brought his together. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “That saves me the trouble of introducing the two of you myself!” As he did, he slid next to Amon and put an arm around his shoulder, leaning ever so slightly against the young scout’s shoulder. “This is the man that I was telling you about! The artist who’s handling your portrait!”

Elise’s eyes went wide. “Portrait? I thought that that was just a joke!”

“Come now, Miss Vera, I don’t joke!”

“Yes you do,” Amon interjected dryly.

“Yes I do,” Erik conceded without protest, “buuuuut I wasn’t joking about this! Besides, it’ll be for you to get to know him, since he’ll be the one showing you around the facilities here later. Why not have him paint your portrait while you’re at it?”

At this point, Amon had extricated himself from Erik’s grasp, and was now facing him alongside Elise. This had been the first time he’d heard about showing anyone around anywhere.

“This is the first I’ve heard about showing anyone around anywhere.”

“Oh? I thought I’d mentioned it, my mistake. Ahem – Amon, you’ll be showing Miss Vera around the Association later. There, now it’s not the first you’ve heard of it!”

Both Amon and Elise shared an exasperated sign as Erik laughed heartily at their expense. Hoping that it might get him out of the current situation, Amon peeked at his watch. He was elated to see that it read 9:07; he could easily tell Erik that he was late for a Summoning. That elation quickly turned to dread when he realized that he was late for a Summoning. Checking to make sure that he hadn’t dropped anything when he collided with Elise, he began moving past her and towards one of the doors near the end of the hallway, which he knew led to the Summoning Room. His movement was halted abruptly by Erik wrapping an arm around his shoulder once again.

“Now, now, what’s the rush? Don’t want to stay and chat? You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

With a click of the teeth and rolled eyes, Amon moved the Director’s arm off of his shoulder. “I had a Summon Call for 9 o’clock, and now I’m late for it. So, as much as I’d rather not, I need to go. Elise,” he turned now to the cherry-blonde woman, “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to give you your tour another time.”

He turned to continue walking, but the Director kept pace alongside him.

“Whoa, whoa, no rush!” he said with a genuine smile. “I’m the one who requested this mission. They won’t start without me, so don’t worry about being late. Besides, you walk in with me, and they’ll know exactly why you were late.” Giving the scout a small wink, Mr. Vail sauntered in the direction of the Summoning Room. A completely drained Amon and a clearly overwhelmed Elise shared a glance and a shrug before following behind him.

-           -           -           -           -

Instructor Garth Kline simply refused to stop tapping his foot. It wasn’t as though he needed to – the clock whose seconds hand he was keeping time with was perfectly visible and audible, after all – but it was the only means he had of tempering his, well, temper. The call clearly stated to arrive at o’900 sharp. But it was now 9:08, and the only things in the room besides the two parallel, ceiling-tall cylindrical glass chambers attached to calmly blinking metal bases were himself and a petite, purplish-black-haired engineer in thick clothes who was currently tinkering with one of them. It was bad enough that the requested Scout was late, but even the Director – who had insisted on this particular venture and demanded that that particular Scout be chosen – was nowhere to be seen! It wasn’t the first time that Garth was forced to subject himself to the random and selfish requests of Erik Vail, and he knew for damn sure that it wouldn’t be the last.

The ceaseless tak, tak, tak of boot on marble tile only ceased when the hallway door slid open. Garth raised his head in time to watch the very same Erik Vail stride into the room with an almost mocking gait and take a spot right in front of the thoroughly exasperated instructor.

“Hi there, Garth! What a day for a Summoning!”

Garth was on the verge of fury. Through clenched teeth, he managed to say, “Sir, correct me if I’m wrong, but we agreed to be here at o’900, did we not?”

Whether Erik was ignoring the obvious anger emanating from the incensed instructor, or simply didn’t register it in his flightiness, it was clear that he wasn’t about to linger on something as pointless as being on time for appointments that he made.

“It’s still in the 900s! And pretty early in, too!” he replied dismissively. “Besides, I brought our two travelers with me, so we can jump right in!”

“…two?”

Hearing that, Garth snapped his attention towards the hallway door once again. Sure enough, there was Amon Phantos, the Scout that he had called for in the first place, along with a beautiful young woman that he didn’t recognize. Both had the same look of exhaustion on their faces, and when they met Garth’s own gaze, it became immediately clear to him exactly who had caused that. Shifting his eyes from the doorway back to Erik, he attempted to resume their conversation. However, in the split second that Garth had turned to take stock of the two new entrants, Erik had already begun walking towards the chambers.

“Mr. Vail!” he called out, causing the well-dressed man to spin on his heels. “You hadn’t said anything about two travelers! This was supposed to be a simple test!”

Erik brought his hand up and rested his face against it. “Oh yeah, I did say that, huh?” He then waved his other hand as if he were blowing the statement away. “Well, it’s still a test. This one just requires an observer, that’s all. No big deal.”

Garth winced and clenched his fists, before letting out a deep, deflating sigh. He couldn’t even muster the energy to be angry anymore. It was always like this. “Regardless,” he managed to say after picking himself back up, “we couldn’t send them both at the same time even if we wanted to. The other machine is still in need of repairs.”

As he said that, he gestured to the leftmost machine. The petite engineer that had been his only company for the past half hour or so continued to tinker away with the machine’s base with an assortment of conventional tools.

“Of course it is, Garth, my boy! But that’s why I tasked our brightest young engineer with fixing it. If anyone could make those replacement parts and install them in record time, it would be our very own Miss Cordell!”

At the mention of her last name, the engineer sat up, wiped the sweat from her olive-skinned brow, and without even turning to look at the Director, replied in an annoyed, rowdy tone, “Really now, Vail, I appreciate the complement, but it doesn’t change what you asked me to do here. ‘specially since your little test is what screwed the teleporter up in the first place!”

“Come now, Miss Cordell, it was an accident, I promise!” he replied with a nervous laugh.

The engineer stood up, a well-worn screwdriver visible in her hand, and spun on her heels to face the Director. The amount of ferocity packed into the scrappy, five-foot frame that began to cross the room was enough to make even the usually unflappable Erik Vail start to back up, hands raised in front of him in surrender. She stomped across the room, eyes aglow with fury and screwdriver pointed directly at the slowly retreating suit. Soon, she had him pressed against the wall with the metal end of the tool at his neck.

“Accident or not, if you mess with that beauty again, I’ll make the replacement parts out of you,” she growled.

“Ahem. N-noted,” replied the heavily shaken man. With an angry, yet satisfied “Hmpf,” she put the screwdriver down and backed off, allowing the Director to breathe and adjust his slightly hiked-up suit jacket.

With her point made clear, the engineer turned to face the other two guests. Amon had a satisfied smile on his face; there weren’t many people that were capable of shutting down Eric Vail like Kana Cordell. When she saw him, her demeanor shifted instantly from rolling rage to upbeat, cordial friendliness.

“Oh, mornin’, Amon. Heard that you were comin today. Sucks about the last-minute call.”

“Good morning, Kana. Yeah, it made for a rough start to the morning, but it sounds like you’ve had plenty to deal with yourself.”

“True enough,” she responded, taking a moment to quickly throw an ocular dagger at Erik (who was still trying to recompose himself) before returning to the conversation. “Didn’t know you’d be bringing a blazin’ cutie with you, though!” she jeered while nudging her head at Amon’s female companion with a playful smile.

Shifting his head towards Elise, he could see that a clearly forced nervous smile had formed on her face. She must have been just as taken aback by the previous display as Erik had been – which, given that she had probably known nothing about Kana before that moment, was entirely understandable. She’s clearly not in a good position to respond, thought Amon, so he decided to push the conversation along himself.

“I wish I could say that I’d been the one who invited her. The truth is, I’ve only just met her myself. And what a meeting it was!” he cracked, prompting Elise to elbow him teasingly in the ribs.

Kana’s looked between the two of them and adopted a mischievous smile. “Oh? Sounds like you got a story to tell me later!”

“I sure do!”

“You sure don’t!” Elise responded with an exaggerated huff that just barely masked her amusement. Relaxed now, Elise extended her hand to Kana. “Elise Vera. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Cordell.”

Slipping the screwdriver that she had been waving around into her belt pouch, Kana reached her hand out and firmly took Elise’s. “Pleasure to meetcha too, Elise! And please, just Kana.”

“Alright then, Kana.”

With introductions settled, Instructor Kline, who had been waiting patiently for the emotional temperature of the room to decrease by a few degrees, cleared his throat in order to gather everyone’s attention. As intended, all eyes shifted towards him, giving him command of the floor.

“Now that everyone is acquainted, might I ask that you please explain what we’re doing here, Mr. Vail?”

“Certainly.” Now composed and somewhat straightened out due to Kana’s influence, Erik Vail took a spot next to Garth and adopted a more professional posture.

“First, allow me to begin by giving Miss Vera a more formal introduction. Everyone, this is Elise Vera, a recent graduate of the West Terminal Summoned Hero Academy. I managed to scout her out during her tenure as a student, and I’m very glad that I did: she’s currently on-track to become an S-Rank Hero.”

You could almost hear the sounds of three jaws dropping in unison. Amon, Kana, and Instructor Garth were all well aware of the vital importance an S-Rank Hero had to the Association; training Heroes to send to other worlds was their entire business, after all. Most Heroes only ever attained a B-Rank, with truly exceptional individuals making it to the prestigious A-Rank. Of those A-Rankers, only the absolute greatest were granted the S-Rank status; in fact, they were aware of only twelve people to have achieved S-Rank status in the entire 200 year history of the Association, just three of which were still active. Even knowing his usual penchant for playing around, for the Director of the branch to make the claim that Elise had already been determined to have S-Rank potential – they knew that it wasn’t a statement that they should be taking lightly.

Understandably, Elise herself was the first one to break the silence that had quickly enveloped the room.

“P-please, everyone. I know that you all understand the implications of what Mr. Vail just said. However, that’s only a future goal – a prediction of where I may eventually end up. At the moment, I am still only a B-Rank Hero Candidate, so please try to see me as that, rather than as an S-Rank potential.”

At this point Amon had recovered from the initial shock and nodded, “Alright.” The other two listeners, who might have continued to stand with their mouths open until a curious insect decided to remind them why that might be a bad idea, locked eyes with one another, and then slowly drifted those eyes back towards the Director. Erik Vail, ever the professional, was very calmly laughing his ass off at their reaction.

“I- I, heh, I expected surprise, b-but damn *snort* your faces, pft, your faces-”

And that was about as much as he was able to get out before the handle-end of a well-worn screwdriver planted itself directly into the center of his forehead, bringing him down with a satisfying thud.

-           -           -           -           -

After a few final adjustments, Kana flipped the switch on the leftmost machine. With a quiet whooooosh, deep blue runes began to appear along the base panel of the cylinder. When they finally reached all the way around, all of them shone brilliantly for a split second, before fading without a trace. Kana stood up and wiped the sweat from her brow, and with a glance behind her announced, “Alright, we’re all ready to go over here!”

Erik, who had been sitting against the wall and nursing a sizeable lump on his forehead, hopped to his feet.

“Ngh, glad to hear it. Now then, Garth, if you’d be so kind as to fetch our travelers?”

Garth Kline gave an affirmative nod and walked to the door at the back end of the room, opposite the hallway door. Rapping on the door with his right hand, he called inside, “The Summoning Machines are ready to go.”

“Thank you. We’ll be out in a moment,” Elise replied.

On the other side of the door was the Equipment Room – though perhaps “Armory” might have been more appropriate. Swords, spears, bows, and other general weaponry rested in evenly distributed weapon racks. Armor of various sizes and materials hung on metal poles that jutted out of the walls alongside auxiliary equipment like belts, bags, and sheathes. Barrels and boxes with restorative herbs and potions were carefully sorted and distributed near the weapon racks. A set of tall lockers lined the wall furthest from the door. Amon and Elise sat in the center of the room on sturdy metal benches. Each of them was going through their bags to make sure that they were properly equipped for their journey.

Elise had already changed into uniform that was similar to Amon’s in design, though with red, white, and gold coloration instead of navy blue. On her shoulder was a shield emblem that was almost identical to his. There were only two slight, but significant, differences between the two: her shield, which had three points on top denoting a Hero, as opposed to his which had no points to show that he was a Scout; and the emblem inside, which was a simple circle rather than a heart-shaped cluster made up of three diamonds. As her fingers pressed against the emblem, she recalled what Erik had told her: this emblem was a Temporary License, given to her specifically for this trial. Since a License was required to activate the Summoning Chamber, these Temporary Licenses allowed individuals to Travel before passing the License Exam. The catch was that they had a time limit; once the time limit expired, a call was automatically sent to Terminal to summon the wearer back.

While the time limit meant that they wouldn’t need to be overloaded with equipment, the prospect of going to another world for the first time was clearly weighing on Elise’s mind. She had gone over the contents of her bag a few times now, ensuring she had at least the bare minimum for the expected trip. Her bag was about half the size of Amon’s to make it less cumbersome during combat, so she wanted to ensure that no space went unused. She removed and returned the contents for what must have been the fourth time: a bundle of medicinal herbs that Amon had drawn from the room’s stores, a couple of paper-wrapped energy bars, a metal canteen, binding tape, and a finger-length reinforced glass vial with a rubber stopped. Within the vial was a deep gold liquid that seemed to sparkle when held up to the light.

Finally satisfied that everything she had packed was still there, Elise walked over to the centermost locker. From her pocket she produced a rounded key. With a smooth click, she inserted and turned it. The locker swung open easily in response. Hanging from one of two parallel mounts within was a wide, four-foot sword. A thin metal sheath with what appeared to be a mechanical latch along its flat hung on the mount beside it. It was a double-edged sword with a rounded tip, though the back edge tapered off a few inches away from the top, making it easy to mistake for a single-edged weapon. The somewhat-oversized blade rested in a polished, H-shape silver cross-guard with a semicircular mount and an L-shaped protrusion that wrapped around the back of the blade. A two-handed grip wrapped with red leather and a golden pommel shaped like half of a mechanical gear provided some color to the otherwise industrial-looking weapon. A thin metal sheath with what appeared to be a mechanical latch along its flat hung on the mount beside it. Elise gently removed the interestingly shaped blade and sheath and returned to the bench. Despite the size and sturdiness of the weapon, the Hero-in-training handled it with the delicate care of an archeologist inspecting a precious, fragile relic.

Amon, on the other hand, had been far less meticulous or careful in his preparation. This was partially because his equipment had been already mostly pre-packed, partially because otherworldly travel was far less new to him than it was for his companion, and partially because he had prior experience with the world that they were about to visit. The only additional things that he felt the need to grab were a bundle of medicinal herbs, some of which he had given to Elise. Thankfully, due to the bags being enchanted with Spatial magic runes, they were able to carry about four times their physical capacity, so he was able to take a generous number of herbs without the bag overflowing.

It’s too bad that Spatial magic is so limited in Terminal, Amon mused to himself, but I’m glad it can at least do this much. I hope I won’t need all of these, though. What I wouldn’t give to be able to use Healing Magic…

He lamented that his weapons belt, which was carefully hidden under his shirt, wasn’t blessed with the same runic code to give it a higher capacity. But those enchantments were expensive, and unlike the standard-issue bag, he’d have to pay out of pocket for it. Maybe someday, he hoped, before shifting his thoughts to the mission at hand.

Prior to the short preparatory break that they took to both check their equipment and give Kana some additional repair time, the Director had informed the pair that they would be summoned to Veldern, a Cleared C-Class World. Amon was quite familiar with this world already, having been one of the Scouts that had been sent to gather information there. That alone had been enough to assuage his concerns. Until, of course, Erik dropped an additional bombshell on him:

“You’re going to be her evaluator for this adventure!”

Amon just couldn’t wrap his head around it. The Director explained that Elise, despite her perceived S-Rank potential, was still only fresh out of the Academy. As such, she hadn’t yet taken the exam to actually receive a Hero license, even though graduation testing had put her around a Rank B to start (no small achievement in and of itself). With only a month until the next Hero Exam, she needed to train – and what better way, thought Erik, than to get her out and into the field! The logic was certainly sound, but Amon still couldn’t help protesting.

“I still don’t see why you picked me for this. I’m only Rank C. If she’s testing at a B level, wouldn’t a B-Class world be a better fit? And a B-Rank team?”

“You’re not wrong,” replied Erik in a rare moment of genuine reservation. “I actually did originally plan on asking Mr. King and his squad to do this instead of you…”

Amon shuddered at the name. He didn’t necessarily mind the overwhelming presence of Beren King, but he was already exhausted as it was. There was simply no way that he would be able to give a proper evaluation under those circumstances. Nevertheless, he had to concede that it might have been better for Elise if a B-Rank Scout had been chosen instead. Even if it was that particular one.

“…but a whole team of evaluators would be too much. I want a concise, detailed review. Perfect for our Solo Scout!”

He really had to go there, didn’t he? Amon complained to himself. The ill-earned nickname caused him no end of grief, but Erik didn’t give him a chance to become upset over it.

“Besides,” Erik continued, “I figured that throwing her into a B-Class World right off the bat might be an issue, considering she was only given a preliminary test.”

“I suppose that’s fair-”

“Plus, like I said: you’re painting her portrait, so you might as well get to know each other!”

A small groan escaped Amon’s pursed lips as he recalled the conversation in full. For a brief moment, he honestly believed that Erik Vail was taking a situation seriously. But he probably should have known better. And he just had to drop that nickname, to top it all off. If Erik hadn’t already been sporting a substantial bruise – and if he hadn’t been Amon’s boss – Amon might have considered clocking the man himself.

Still, he thought while thumbing through the herbs that now lined the interior of his bag, at least it’s an easy enough mission. Just take her in, see how she fights and behaves, give her a couple of tasks and then come back when I’ve gotten enough to report.

“Is everything alright?”

The boy raised his head to see Elise bent down over him. Now that she was closer, he realized that she was far more well-built than she seemed to be in either her picture or her dress. It wasn’t just exercise muscle, either; she clearly had plenty of combat experience. It did little to obscure her softer features, though; in fact, to Amon, they seemed only to make them more natural. Maybe, thought Amon, that’s what her painting is missing?

Heat began rising to his face once he realized that he was staring again. Doing his best to hide that fact, he zipped the bag closed and stood up to face her. She appeared fully prepared, with her bag at her right side and her sword on her back.

“Umm, yeah, everything’s fine. You look like you’re pretty much ready to go.”

“Yes, I think I have everything I need.”

“No armor?”

The uniforms that they were wearing provided a solid amount of resistance to most forms of attack, but that wasn’t usually enough to outright replace proper armor. And yet, Elise stood there without even a single plate to protect her. She seemed unperturbed, however, and gave Amon a small, yet confident, smile as assurance.

“Don’t worry about that; I won’t need any. You’ll see soon.”

 “Hm…” Amon gave Elise another once-over. Could she…?

“…something wrong with my uniform?”

“Nah, forget about it,” Amon shrugged, more to himself than to her. He figured that, as she said, he’d know soon enough.

The non-traveling Association members were lined up patiently in front of the machines when the travelers re-entered. Kana walked over to the duo and gave them a push forward.

“Come on, now, we don’t got all day here!”

She maneuvered the two in front of the glass cylinders and walked over to the side wall, which housed a panel with a number of buttons and an unlit rune. She tapped a few of the buttons, which caused the deep blue runes to reappear, this time on both bases. Once they had all manifested, they began to rapidly shift form. Once they settled into a stable, identical pattern, the front of the cylinders opened outwards, allowing Amon and Elise to step in. Once each of them was inside a cylinder, the openings resealed themselves, and the rune on the panel that Kana was using turned from red to green.

“Awright!” she cheered. “Looks like both Summoning Chambers are good to go! We ready?”

“Indeed!” replied Erik. He then walked over to the chamber that Amon had entered and faced him.

“Remember, I’m trusting you with this evaluation. Elise’s Badge has a three-day time limit on it, so do what you have to do to get a satisfactory amount of information. I’ll be looking forward to the report when you get back!”

Amon nodded, and turned to look at Elise. She looked around the inside of her chamber before meeting his gaze.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“It’s a little strange actually being inside one of these. But… yes, I’m ready,” she nodded with only the slightest bit of hesitation.

He nodded in turn. “Alright, Kana, fire it up!”

Kana excitedly pressed her palm against the green rune on the panel before her and concentrated on it. As she did, the runes on the bases of the chambers began to glow. A faded red light emanated from the base and quickly rose up Amon and Elise’s bodies. Once the light reached their respective badges, it stopped moving, blinked, turned green, and summarily cut out. Soon after, the glow from the runes began to glow brighter and brighter, causing a swarm of rainbow-colored lights to appear beneath the feet of the two travelers. The lights grew in both size and number around them, totally enveloping their bodies. Their rainbow swirls joined eventually into a single white light that bathed the room in its furious glow. Suddenly, with a final flash and a sharp schweeeeeng, the light vanished, along with Amon and Elise.