Drew’s muscles were aching, but even so, he still maintained his composure in front of the Alchemists, eagerly crowding around the entrance to what would be the start of a company that could grow to rival Heartman‘s. The multi-storied building was located in Kinsard, a District bordering the City Center. It wasn’t outstanding, a bit underwhelming considering Snow’s status, but for a single Alchemist to create his firm in the first place was considered a good start.

“Greetings,” Drew welcomed the Alchemists in his first voice, hinting with traces of Ice Otrio. "I imagine you all had a relaxing vacation upon completing our previous engagement.”

Claps.

Cheers.

Shouts.

All of that erupted from the crowd.

“Now, amongst everyone here, I recognize some familiar faces. I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

Collective nods and murmurs of acknowledgment responded to Drew’s words.

“Then, I will spare the long speech. I want to offer my sincere congratulations to everyone here who signed on and became the first generation employees of Snowflake Pharmaceuticals.”

More cheers emerged from the crowd, making Drew smile internally. This was the first natural step they needed to take down Heartman to reach the peak of Kraus and the Alchemy Circle. This wasn’t just a goal for him to achieve to pull away from the clutches of whoever was on his back but also for the Alchemists. All the Alchemists that were present had worked under Heartman and were victims of his tyranny. Their knowledge and discoveries were never credited to them; years of their lives were wasted away, slaving for his black, unethical corporation whose roots were planted deep into the Krausian authority—a monopolist thwarting fair competition, blocking talent and innovation. 

It was vile.

“We shall begin by having everyone acquaint themselves with the new work environment. Take this moment to celebrate a new beginning. However, we can’t afford to be complacent if we intend to reach there!” Drew said, pointing his finger to Heartman’s building in the city center.

With the snap of his fingers, a holographic projection beamed from a round drone floating around. On the projection was an article published just a few minutes ago, “Shocking: Snow’s Victory! Otrio Blood Poisoning Regiment Optimization Success!”

“This is-"

“This is confirmation of your hard work.” Drew continued as the article scrolled before zooming onto an image outlining the contributors to the regiment. “Our proclamation towards Heartman and the upper ranks of the Alchemy Circle is that we are worthy of standing on the same playing field. We are still in the early stages and must prove we belong amongst the brightest stars.

The name of our organization originates from the concept of snowflakes. Snowflakes are delicate and weak, melting from the warmth of one’s palm. But those identical fragile snowflakes can come together and form something powerful—a mound, a snowstorm, an avalanche—they're malleable. Malleability is our advantage in breaking through the Alchemy Circles’ current rigidity. We are Snowflake Pharmaceuticals!”

Shouts, cheers, and claps erupted from the audience one last time. Drew, whose arms were opened wide, his lips curled up slightly but he refrained from partaking in the cheers, trying his best not to break Snow’s character.

This was the real beginning.

“Let’s knock the Cerber System off its feet.”

>>>

Once the after-party finished, Drew crashed on his bed, burrowing his head into a pillow. He was completely exhausted from all the social interaction and just wanted a moment to himself. As he was about to drift off into sleep, he felt his wristband buzz.

It was Sylvia.

She had started a group call.

He groaned a little, feeling reluctant to join, but something told him it wasn’t right to ignore the call, so he decided to pick up. Tons of voices over the speaker could be heard as Drew joined the call, putting Drew's mind into slight disarray.

“Hey, Drew! It's so nice of you to drop in!” Sylvia's voice chimed. Her avatar, a smaller and stubbier version of her appearance in real life, smiled over the call.

“You as well. It seems like everyone is here except Elias.”

“Well, that’s exactly why we scheduled this call.” Rider began in a serious tone. “Take a look at the footage-“

Drew’s eyes widened as Rider shared his screen. It was one of the elimination rounds from the 40th Royal Selections.

From the clip, Rider moved the slider to the middle, showing the face of a blonde-haired, silver-eyed candidate before hitting the play button. As the video ran, the scene cut to smoke dissipating around the candidate. Dressed in a white tee shirt with a pin with the number 80 fixed to the left side of his black leather jacket, blue jeans, and brown combat boots, the candidate looked like he walked out of a fashion magazine. In his hands were two silver tonfas that extended to his elbows, blood from the other candidates who were buried beneath his soles caked onto their glistening surface and his clothes.

“The cameramen are doing a good job.” A certain Feline commented in a monotone voice rather quietly yet still audible enough to make out. 

“This isn’t the time to crack jokes, Jay.” Rider chided with a deadpan expression.

Drew directed his attention back to the video.

The handsome candidate who emerged from the smoke was breathing heavily, but there was no time for him to rest. Another candidate with daggers swiftly took advantage of the handsome candidate’s exhausted state, driving his blade toward his torso. However, the tonfa-wielding candidate saw this and maneuvered out of the blade’s trajectory, watching as his assailant cut open air while he made his move, a decisive knee blow to the solar plexus. From the footage, everyone could feel the wind getting knocked out of their body.

But this opponent was no ordinary combatant.

Despite taking critical damage, the opponent made a last-ditch effort and threw his dagger at near point blank while turning on his back to minimize the damage of his fall. However, just when the audience thought the handsome candidate would get hit by the attack, an object exited the body of the tonfa, hitting the dagger square in the middle and deflecting it off to the side.

Again, the camera cut back over to the hand.

“A bu-bullet! With bird’s eye precision, Candidate 80 shot Candidate 145’s dagger!”

The crowd roared with cheers that shook the stadium.

As the camera circled the tonfa-wielding candidate, five more candidates appeared. In a split second, they rushed towards Candidate 80, who stood motionlessly in his position. Wan couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as the other candidates' weapons got closer. At this rate, it appeared as if Candidate 80 had sealed his fate. Then, in the blink of an eye, the handsome candidate jumped, letting his opponents' weapons collide, with two of them taking each other out. Candidate 80 smirked as he performed a flawless backflip while hitting the other candidate with his tonfas in midair.

“Hey, hey, hey…” Drew chuckled, his face twitching as the silver-eyed candidate spun around. “Wasn’t that my move? This guy…”

Suddenly, a voice shouted in the clip, “Get him!”

Candidate 80, who had just exited the previous mess, charged at his next opponent. Without allowing the assailant to attack, Candidate 80 roundhouse kicked him in the head before sending a power blow right to his chin and twirling his right tonfa like a sword. With one final point, the handsome candidate grits his teeth and pulls the trigger at the handle, hitting the other candidate in the ribs.

“Ain’t no way!” Brix exclaimed. “He just used all of our moves! Goodness, this dork! Knew something was off about him and this was -"

Sylvia interrupted. “Take a look at his name!”

A banner appeared on the screen as a horn blared in the background.

“And we have our winner for Group 10! The dark-horse of the 40th Royal Selections! Liam Ederas!”

“Yup, that’s Elias, alright.” Jay nodded.

“No kidding,” Drew replied in agreement. “Can’t hide that protagonist energy of his.”

Wan, at a loss for words, stared at the clip with disbelief. “But why is El doing this? Why keep it away from us?”

Rider sighed, aware that everyone felt betrayed by Elias’s nondisclosure. “That’s what we all want to know. Whatever his justification is for keeping silent is, well, it’s gotta be darn good.”

“Drew, you live in the same house as Elias,” Sylvia spoke. “Care to give him the first earful from us?”

Drew nodded, rolling on his back on his bed.

“Didn’t have to ask! The guy’s coming back in two days. He deserves what's coming for him for lying to our faces. Even so, I still wonder why he went so far to deceive everyone.”

Jay shrugged as if not caring much about this matter.

“Beats me.”

However, little did anyone else know. Drew and Jay already knew why Elias entered but couldn’t say anything. They needed to play their respective parts, pretending to be ignorant. No one in the group could ever imagine the secrets Drew and Jay were harboring, and they would remain that way for as long as possible.

Yet, the betrayal that the group experienced made Drew consider the consequences of his actions. How much stuff would backfire on him once they’re out? Unlike Elias, Drew could not afford to be exposed to his peers. There were threats much more significant than those in Ozwarth that were after him, and any slip-ups could be deadly. Especially considering that now he had the Obtainer on his back, things were more dire than ever.

“Aside from that,” Rider continued pulling up some diagrams from the 40th Royals Selection website, “apparently, the guy has made it to the final tournament and has progressed into the Final 64. He’s also said to be the dark horse of the selections and is ranked third on the popularity polls. Also, take a look at this phony profile.”

Rider shared his screen again, this time with a profile of Elias’s persona. The profile almost looked like something out of a video game, displaying everything from his name to his hobbies and stats.

“Name: Liam Ederas

Race: Human

Age: 18

DOB: March 6th

Occupation: Student

Position: Brawler

Faction: Neutral

Background: He is a hardworking Academy student from a middle-class family in Ozwarth. Compared to other candidates, not much is known about him-"

“Huh,” Brix nodded, “Media sure is doing a good job making him appear mysterious.”

“People eat that stuff up; it’s what sells.” Drew shrugged.

Wan puffed her cheeks, “But still, I can’t believe he can look that cool…it feels weird.”

Sylvia nodded.

“Since we know him behind the screen, we don’t perceive him like everyone else.”

“A dork,” Jay responded, scratching the back of one of his pointed Feline ears. “That’s what he is.”

“Augh, I'm still mad that he lied to us!” Drew grumbled. Look at this guy—he’s using our moves like that!”

“Although,” Rider sighed, “You guys also can’t help but feel proud.”

“Won’t deny that!” Sylvia smirked, snapping her fingers together. "Trust me, we’re all going to give him a piece of our minds when he returns. Lying eventually backfires, am I right?”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Drew chuckled silently on the other end of the call. Considering the circumstances, Sylvia made a valid point that he had to acknowledge. He looked at Elias’s situation, watching how his excuses backfired on him amongst the group. While Drew was on the receiving end of this betrayal, he couldn’t help but think about the day everyone found out.

What would they say?

How would they react?

Would they be empathetic about it?

He wouldn’t know; after all, what he was going through was much scarier than what Elias was experiencing. People beyond Kraus and the Cerber System with the power to destroy a planet were after him. He shuddered at the thought, convincing himself that refraining from spilling out the truth was to protect everyone. However, seeing their emotions now, he felt pins and needles penetrate his heart, knowing that he would be in Elias’s position in the future.

He dreaded that thought.

He didn’t want that day to come.