“A vampire,” Nicholas says from within his office. “You mean to tell me that the cause of that blight was a Level 49 vampire that was attempting to build a massive domain of dark energy with which to house countless more of her kind.”

“Yes,” Chloe says. “We detected and destroyed two objects which the System dubbed as [Necromantic Cores]. I’m not sure if they were merely some sort of device animating the undead, or if they also had some secondary purpose having to do with manipulating the dark energy surrounding the area. We didn’t investigate further after defeating Scarlett— the energy had already dissipated, and we thought it was better to report in and let some [Surveyor] or [Tactician] with the appropriate reconnaissance and investigation Skills take over from there.”

Nicholas takes a long sigh, rubbing his temples with his head lowered. His posture, sitting behind his desk, is one I’ve seen on teachers more than a few times. The look of someone utterly exhausted, who has long since stopped giving a shit about literally anything and just wants to collapse unconscious. I’d like to say that the cause of such looks of despair isn’t usually me… But, especially since the System’s arrival, it has been more times than I will openly admit.

“You two did well,” he says. “With the benefit of hindsight, knowing that the threat was undead in nature, I can confirm that I was absolutely correct to request the best healer in the state and her partner handle this mess. There’ll be plenty more headaches and paperwork ahead for me, having to organize a team and head out there to ensure that we won’t be dealing with more of the same two or three or six months from now. But that is my responsibility as the sub-commander of the armed forces stationed here, not yours.”

“Now, as for our reward for a completed mission,” I say.

“To the point as always, Ms. Mortensen. First off, while I intend to honor our agreement in full, a sum of $7,000 will be paid to each of your bank accounts on file in… seven to ten business days or so. Knowledge of Skill Books might be an open secret among those in the know, but it’s better for a lot of individuals if we don’t formally acknowledge their existence. Consider the payment to be half accounting measures to keep the beancounters at the DoD happy, and half hush money.”

“And where is that money coming from?” I ask.

“You don’t want to know about the off-budget funding that I have access to.”

I glare, but relent a couple seconds later. I still don’t like either him or the situation, but I see it as a case of finding areas for mutual benefit.

“As for the remainder of our deal.” He opens up a drawer behind his desk, pulling out four small books, each about the size of a large cell phone. Each of them has a picture of a pair of wings on them, although they’re each of slightly different shape, shade, and thickness.

“Each of you may pick one of the four. None of my soldiers have been able to make use of them, and I suspect that, like before, the two of you can use them better than we can.”

“You wouldn’t happen to be selling these, would you?” I ask.

“I believe it was you who said that we couldn’t rely on doctrines of non-proliferation to control the spread of Ethertech, and so needed to spread the knowledge and information widely so people can protect themselves. Or was that another blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Seraphina living in our city? Regardless of whether you still believe in your words from last month, my responsibility, as it always has been, lies in maintaining the security and safety of both the soldiers and the civilians in my area of jurisdiction. I doubt your friend, Zackary, is any more discriminating about who he sells his wares to, either.”

“Indeed,” I say, a bit of displeasure hidden as best I’m able.

I grab the book on the far left, as Chloe takes the one second from the right. No particular reason that I can vocalize, but I feel a gentle pull from it, as though it’s subconsciously calling to me. Chloe suggests the same is true for her through our bond.

The two of us make our way out of the central command building, where, surprisingly, we’re met by a familiar face. One which seems a lot less grouchy than I’ve come to expect of it.

“Seraphina. Chloe,” Jackie says. Somehow, the [Martial Artist]— or whatever her new class name is— has gotten even more buff. She’s absolutely ripped, looking like a hybrid between an elite MMA fighter and a female bodybuilder. In her navy-blue outfit, a cross between a military uniform and a gi, she looks like she could kick ungodly amounts of ass, whether with modern weapons, the martial weapons of centuries long past, or her bare fists, if need be.

“Hello, Jackie,” Chloe says.

I offer my hand. Neither of us says a word. It was always going to be awkward between the two of us. She still resents me for not working with the military to build weapons for them back right after our first expedition back in March. I can’t blame her for that, knowing that the grief over the loss of her partner was still raw upon her. At the time, I blamed the ineffectiveness of the same and the police for the death of my mother. Maybe I still do, a little, but time has… started to heal those wounds, at least a little.

Seconds pass before she tepidly takes it. “I–” she stammers, struggling to form words.

“I know,” I say. We nod in unison.

I feel a mutual understanding as our eyes meet and our handshake firms up. She and I are both prideful women, though some might say obstinate or pig-headed instead. Neither of us feels any desire to compromise our ideals or apologize for our actions. She feels I was in the wrong, and I was acting in a manner I thought was best at the time. My new path of spreading my Ethertech principles broadly to the people, rather than just the military, is one more in line with her wishes, although I don’t think she’s completely pleased with that choice, either.

In short, I doubt either of us are going to be inviting the other to our birthday parties anytime soon, but at least that sundered relationship can now truly start to heal.

“Leaving again?” she asks.

“Yeah. Always more work to be done,” I say.

“Knock ‘em dead, Seraphina. Literally, if you need to.”

I smile as Chloe and I sprout our wings once more, taking to the sky once more. It’s scorching in the late-afternoon sky, and not until we’re a good two miles away from base do I cautiously stash our Skill books away into my [Inventory], the momentary flash of teal light hopefully not acting as too much of a beacon to anyone who might be tracking us from the surface.

“Damn, I’m so close,” Chloe says. “Only about forty thousand points away from hitting Level 50.”

I giggle. “Careful, Chloe. Keep that attitude up, and your mother might force us to break up. She’ll say I’m being a bad influence on you, turning you into a battle junkie. Just like me.”

Chloe stares at me with indignant eyes and jaw agape. “And I was about to say that Scarlett’s teasing was getting me all riled up, and how we’d need to relieve that tension later this afternoon. But now, I’m thinking I might need to go on a solo mission instead.”

“Well, maybe I’ll have to do the same then,” I respond with a bit of a scoff. “Although we probably should use these Skill Books before we have that sort of fun.”

----------------------------------------

The two of us sit down on the couch in the upstairs sitting room. There’s still a bit of tension between Chloe and me from our earlier conversation, but it’s marked by plenty of softness and levity. We share a kiss that I had intended to be brief, but ends up dragging on far longer than planned. By both of our enthusiastic insistences, of course.

Once recomposed and a more appropriate mindset, I pull the two Skill Books out of my [Inventory] and lay them on the table. I had hoped, against all frustration to the contrary, that doing so would have been an end-around to getting around my lack of an [Identify] Skill. The Skill does allow me to, well, inventory the items I store within that space, and provides a brief description of everything contained within. But the books in question are merely identified as [Skill Book: Angel] and [Skill Book: Saintess], respectively. At least the System was kind enough to confirm that the books will be useful to our respective classes.

Tension grips me as I open up the one I selected before, the one marked as [Skill Book: Angel] in my [Inventory], and begin perusing its contents. Even though I’ve done this multiple times before, there’s a certain sense of awe that comes over me as the encrypted glyphs dance around on their pages, swirling about like a mass of teal-colored snow swirling about. When last I used one such book, awakening to the power of [Archangel’s Gaze], I felt a sense of discomfort wash over me, my mind and visual senses twisting and warping, learning how to perceive vision in all directions at once.

This time, however, I feel no physical or mental discomfort. I feel focused, confident, self-assured, able to withstand all challenges before me. I feel a pressure that surrounds my being, filling me with the absolute essence of inspiration. A new mental impulse emerges a moment later, followed by a splitting headache that forces me to my knees.

[You have gained the Class Skill [Hearken].]

[Warning: You have exceeded the maximum number of Skills available for this class (Current: 7, Maximum: 6). You will be unable to take any other actions until removing enough Skills to close this gap.]

Through the pain, I glance at the class description for the new Skill I’ve been offered.

[[Hearken]: The mere presence of the [Mechanical Angel] both inspires her allies and daunts her foes. At will, she may extend out an aura to a distance of up to (Level x 100) feet. All allies within the radius of her aura have all their stats increased by 20%. All enemies within that radius who cannot resist the effect are subject to the [Fear] status condition, and seek to flee from the [Mechanical Angel] through any means. In addition, whether this effect is successful or not, the [Mechanical Angel]’s aura disorients and disquiets enemy fighters, passively lowering their stats by 10%.

[Note 1: While multiple enhancement spells normally stack, [Hearken] does not stack with the effect of [Angel’s Grace] cast by the same combatant. Only the greater effect applies.]

[Note 2: Chance of applying [Fear] to an enemy scales with the [Mechanical Angel’s] Level and [Mind] stats relative to those of the enemy (or enemies).]

[Note 3: [Ether] Cost to maintain [Hearken] increases proportionately to the radius of effect.]]

Well, it was nice knowing you, [Trick Shot]. I don’t regret developing or taking this Skill in the slightest. It served me well, even when I wasn’t actively using it, and early on, it was critical to properly using my [Ether Bullets] to their fullest extent. Now, however, it is easily the least effective and versatile of my Skills, and the clear option to sacrifice to this effect.

[Confirm selection of [Trick Shot] to be lost to gain Class Skill [Hearken]. Warning: Once lost, this Skill will need to be re-learned through other means. If later regained, this Skill’s Rank (if applicable) will revert to I.]

I pause for a moment or two, mostly just to be certain that I’m not overlooking something else critical. However, with the throbbing headache not otherwise subsiding, I go ahead and confirm the selection.

As soon as I do, the headache ceases. It is replaced by a sensation of nausea no less intense. I rush downstairs, as Chloe is currently occupying the upstairs bathroom for the same reason. After working the… excess mental load out— through the front door, thankfully, not the back— I make my way back upstairs, taking a seat next to my love.

“Did you get something good?” Chloe asks me.

“I did,” I respond, explaining the basics of how my Skill works and trying it out throughout the room. “What about you?”

“Absolutely,” Chloe responds. “And I’ll tell you all about it.”