Catalyst

Do your best, Xenron.

As Xenron fell with the endless snow, he replayed those words in his mind. They weren’t his tutor’s words, though the message was the same. They weren’t even recognizable as anyone he knew. They were familiar. It was that shock that made him scramble for handholds and footholds to slow his fall, and eventually push off into a high snow bank. The snow broke his fall, thankfully, but he was dizzy, broken, fading, cold. He would die if he didn’t do anything.

Heat, he told himself, putting aside the voice for now. He stood on shaky legs, examining the outcropping he had rested on earlier. The first time he had been afraid and complacent. Now, he searched the space with hungry, fierce eyes. He could resign. He should resign. No. The snow that was piled up - his landing pad - was conspicuous. On a hunch, Xenron dug away at it with all his trembling strength. The moments of digging were long and terrifying. They promised everything, if anything at all. But if there was nothing…

Sure enough, he unearthed a shallow cavern. It wasn’t larger than a room. But against the wind, it would suffice well enough. Hurrying back to the dead man, he grabbed his pack. Quickly fumbling with the previously useless firestarters on the cavern floor, he blew barely-warm breath onto his hands until they would move properly to light a match. The starters had enough magically enhanced kindling to burn for a short while - but they alone would not a fire make. Luckily, the illusion of a soldier was projected on a physical form, likely to make it more stable. On inspection, it was a wooden dummy. This, Xenron dragged into the cave.

Into the firestarters’ hot orange flames with brilliant tongues of white, he threw the ‘corpse’ of his ally. He threw his most shredded clothing and the soldier’s pack, with anything not of use inside. He let them burn, and all his dread with them. He pulled the gas mask over his face - this would not be a clean burn. Neither could he find comfort in the heat. Too close and he risked burns or shock. Too far and he risked hypothermia. On the razor’s edge he waited, and slowly the cold left him. Slowly, his mind came back to him, no longer wholly a fierce, animal thing. Slowly, he began to plan.

Miraculously, he didn’t think any bones were broken. At his skill level, that would have made the climb truly impossible. However, that said nothing of other injuries. Bruised ribs, perhaps, and strains, sprains, countless pulls and scrapes and lacerations littered his body. Some of these were likely absent. His already minimal medical knowledge was failing him. He tended what he could - the external injuries - bandaging or wrapping them until he was no longer losing blood. The soldier had proper field rations - a Meal Ready to Eat (MRE) that could prepare a hot meal via exothermic chemical reaction. Xenron needed only to add water - fortunately, his pack had enough of that. He would probably have to melt some snow later to get properly hydrated. He couldn’t make this ascent at less than 100%.

While the MRE was too salty and unappetizing in concept (he had been made to try a few by Ms. Vale), at that moment, it steadied Xenron in a way few meals ever could. The warmth and richness of the shredded game meat filled him, making him almost enjoy the cold. It was euphoric. And once he had enough to drink, he set to scratching a plan into the notepad he had fortunately not chosen to burn in his earlier rush.

He had climbed all wrong - he knew that without any analysis. He had a passing knowledge of the basics, but his practical experience was almost nil. Thinking about the wall and eventually leaving the cavern briefly to give it a look, Xenron didn’t think he had a lot of options. His path was alright; what he really needed was a way to get above the point in the crack where he’d failed. He was relying on his wedged hand when he slipped - could he have turned his hand sideways and wedge it further up in the crack? He vaguely recalled talk of “crack climbing” from one of Ms. Vale’s more random lessons, but it was only an idea in his head. He wouldn’t know for sure until he made it to that point.

He spent some more time planning, going through each of his resources physically and then arranging them on his person or in his pack. Then, he laid on his side to rest. He had switched out his phone’s battery with a spare Leo had made him pack, and with some heat in the device, it would function. There was no connection, but at least the alarm would work.

Hours later, he awoke to a droning alarm and bone-deep soreness. However, he wasn’t cold, and the meal had given him some strength. Downing some water and electrolyte packs, Xenron moved deliberately, stretching before setting out. His left arm - the one that had failed him and left him to fall - wasn’t in the best shape, but it could move. With a shuddering sigh, he made his way out of the cave. The sky was a strange purple-blue that foreshadowed the coming dawn. Xenron considered waiting a while longer - by his clock, he had around 6 hours remaining. Still, he didn’t want to cut things too close. It would take some time to navigate the space he hadn’t gotten to, and once morning brought a little warmth, it would also bring wind. At the moment, the air was pleasantly still. Besides, the bats had been out an oddly long time before dusk. He was hoping they would also be asleep before dawn as a result, and the sky was already bright enough to navigate by. So, he pressed on.

Xenron’s body automatically navigated the first section. This surprised him - he thought it would be more difficult given his fatigue. But the cold air on his wake woke him. His extremities were warm enough, heated by chemical hot packs he’d previously overlooked in the soldier’s pockets, and he wore the man’s oversized glove to replace his lost one. With the heat pack inside, it wasn’t too bad of a fit. Still, the larger part of his confidence came from experience. He was tired, and increasingly so as he ascended using hard-to-grip circular bulges. But he had a better sense this time of what falling felt like, and what stability felt like. Instead of climbing as high as he could on the core of the wall, he made a beeline for the crack at the lowest point. Using it as an anchor, he let each arm dangle a moment to get blood back. He’d need his strength for the unknown sections to come.

He thrust his hand into the crack as he had before, widening it to fit by tensing. And, with a sigh, he turned off the safety on his revolver and holstered it on his belt opposite his knife. A fall without a miracle landing could be just as dangerous as the bullet, and Xenron knew he needed the weapon at a moment’s notice. Then, pulling up with his anchored hand, he ascended the crack. Reposition hand, foot, foot, then pull. It was slow going, but he made his way up, using each hand alternatively as his anchor to save strength. In time, he reached his previous stopping point - the place on the wall where all he could do last time was fall. Even now, the left handhold was beyond his reach. Taking a moment to reach into a pouch on his waist, anchored by two feet and one hand at a time, he put each of his gloves into smashed-up rock powder. It wasn’t quite the chalk that real climbers used, but the relatively soft stone Xenron had found in the cave had broken apart easily enough when he used the butt of the soldier’s rifle for some blunt persuasion. Its abundant surface area did the job, soaking up melted snow. There was no way this would be easy, so Xenron prepared as best he could.

Getting himself ready, Xenron bent his knees and splayed his fingers inside the crack running up the mountain face, ready to free the hand in a moment. He sighted his new handholds and footholds, focusing on each in turn twice. Then… he jumped. The dynamic motion made up the gap, and he reached distant handhold with his left hand. His shoulder pulled. The motion sent another twinge of pain through him, but he gritted his teeth and held on, getting his other grips into place. Somehow… he managed! He was still on the wall. He opened his mouth amidst a heaving breath, his body heaving with a silent yell of triumph. His shoulder hurt and worse, felt wrong, and he knew it would hurt more later. It wasn’t over yet - and still, even through the pain, the panic, the cold, he still couldn’t remember the last time he was so thrilled.

He pressed on, ever upward. The rock face wasn’t so hard to climb now. Somewhat distantly, the peak was in sight, and the handholds didn’t seem to complex. Jagged and brutal, but there was enough space to grip. He compensated for his weaker left shoulder with breaks as necessary and with leg-strength, but overall, he ascended as fast as he could, pushing on into the coming light of dawn.

Then, screeches split the air, and Xenron’s breath caught, cold and fierce in his lungs. A bat - no, multiple. Many. He took one more shuddering breath. He had mentally worked through this possibility, but it was the worst case. He let his left arm dangle for a moment, knowing he’d need its strength in just a moment. Scanning the area, he found a place where the wall indented enough for some decent footholds. It wasn’t a platform to stand on - not even close - but as he worked sideways to it, it was solid enough that he wouldn’t be knocked off easily. By then, the first of them were upon him. Four frost bats. One of them exploded into shards of ice with the crack of a revolver.

Even though the pistol was in his right hand, Xenron’s left shoulder roared with pain. He could handle the recoil - but holding on with his busted arm was a challenge as the wind whipped at him. Gritting his teeth in a sneering grin, he took aim at the second of the creatures, hoping to silence its screech. 20 meters. The revolver cracked once, twice, with the second shot hitting a vital. 15 meters. The third and fourth bats wised up, flying evasively. They couldn’t possibly understand the threat, could they? But they were adaptable - perhaps mana did that for them. Fine then. Xenron fired a shot which sailed far right. 10 meters. The bat flew opposite the crack, sailing into its peer’s airspace. Still, it defty avoided the second shot and it took a third to bring it down. 5 meters, and Xenron was out of bullets. No time to reload. He dropped the revolver into its holster. A knife wouldn’t be effective against their hard surface. He needed a club - something heavier than the revolver. Xenron heard screeches as more bats came close and grimaced.

At the last moment, he swung his right arm up sharply, holding the jammed sonic dart launcher. He smashed the bat against the rock wall with the butt of the weapon, heavy with its stuck ammunition. Dazed as ice fell into a spray of prismatic dawnlight, the bat fluttered down and caught another blow. It sunk its fangs into Xenron’s cheek before dying, but only just barely, and his eyes were protected by thick goggles. Then, Xenron dodged sharply to the side as wind rushed by. He caught himself on an arm and two legs, left arm now holding the launcher. He had a feeling if he tried to catch his weight with it, he’d fall. Still, it wasn’t spared any abuse as he lashed out at a bat attacking from his left, the thing that’d forced him to move. But his movements were clumsy and weak. Through pain and blood, he crushed the bat, but his arm was left with three good bites, blood visibly starting to freeze at the points of the wounds. Bats were swarming. He heard them all around, at least a dozen was his guess. Still, there was an upshot in this all. There had been a distinct click as he continued to hammer the bat into a pulp with his bad arm. Almost laughing at the absurdity of his idea - there’s no way this works - Xenron barely moved his left arm to put the sonic dart launcher in his right hand, somehow steadying himself with the freezing arm as he aimed.

All the fancy tech in the world, and one thing always stays the same. He pointed the supposedly jammed tool at a rocky outcropping near the top of the mountain. If it’s not working, when it doubt, give it a good smack. With a sharp pop, the dart soared up, stone cracking apart where it embedded itself so far up. The pull on Xenron’s right arm as the cord attached to the dart retracted was incredible, and his other arm dropped away from the rock face, dangling limply as his legs worked overtime to right him. His left arm was now useless, and at glance told him it was freezing over, lingering cold spreading like an infection. Still, he ran up the wall at incredible speed, shocking himself, as if everyone who had ever helped him supported each thunderous step. If he lost his footing, he would immediately grind bodily against the wall and the retraction would turn him into a bloody pulp. Don’t think. Move! The bats screeched, closing in from every side in a frenzy. But this time, he was faster. In just this moment as the early morning wind buffeted them, Xenron was king of the mountain. A bat flew down at him from above, and he cocked his bad arm. Somehow, some way, he would force his way through!

Tear. There was a small, almost imperceptible sound. Without understanding or meaning to, the bat had brought its jagged wing against the cord supporting Xenron’s ascent. Pulling frantically to be free, the beast cut a few strands of the flexible material - and that was enough. With a snap, Xenron was falling. He took one step too many, and found himself pushed off from the wall by a few feet - and falling into the abyss. Instinctively, he looked back - and briefly caught the light of a dozen bats exploding into shards up ice as Bruce fiercely ascended the mountain towards him. He was a little disappointed in himself for it, but in that moment, he smiled and closed his eyes. This had always been a training exercise, after all. Somehow, Bruce was in control. He had done better that he would have thought possible, considering the circumstances. If he could get his shoulder fixed, he’d be able to try again. He hoped Bruce would let him. But he could fight. Fight as the weakest person on this battlefield of mages and legends. He was so tired of not trying that even failure was sweet.

Stop settling. Xenron’s mind flinched. It wasn’t a sound, but a feeling, deep and strong, as if it was his own. But the tone, the motive, the soul, was wrong. And for just a moment, Xenron remembered the beauty of fierce, humanoid crimson glow standing against the darkness.

Give this world your best.

Xenron’s eyes flashed open, and he took a sharp breath. Roaring as a burning sensation rushed through his arms and legs. Yelling with pain and borrowed ferocity, Xenron extended his arms and legs towards the wall. It was at the very edge of his reach, and his gloves instantly tore from the jagged friction as he continued to fall. His hands and arms took jagged cuts, the ice on his left shattering completely, but they were not shredded wholly, rock cracking under their force until he came to a sudden stop. Looking up with eyes impossibly sharp, Xenron somehow locked onto the bats amongst the chaos immediately - and bounded towards them. His climb was quick and fierce - arms and legs working as a symphony and wasting no time, resting not a moment. Sparks flew as he kicked a bat coming up from below, almost blinding him. Electricity?! As he kept climbing at frantic speed, he couldn’t get breath fast enough, and he could see his chest quaking with the effort, could see, once again, hands choking him in the pouring rain superimposed over his vision. His arm blurred with speed at it pushed the phantom ‘killing’ him away, simultaneously crushing a real bat. As he launched himself to the next ledge, Xenron forced the phantom thoughts aside with all his strength. The night in the treacherous mountain had all built towards a singular moment, and he didn’t want it to come to nothing.

Then, his left arm became so painful as to be useless even in the furious adrenaline rush. As a bat descended on him, he pivoted to block its bite with his left shoulder. The beast could have it. Because he was near the top. With his good arm and two legs, he threw himself to the apex and then pulled up with one arm. As he landed on solid ground, he found the bat savagely chewing into his arm. Grabbing it with his right, he pivoted and crushed it into the ground, instantly shattering its jagged form. He could have lost a finger in that kind of attack with his gloves long gone, but in this state, he didn’t even think about it. Only after loading his revolver and warily pointing it around could Xenron steady himself. He took in the sight of a perfect sunrise, and screamed out into the expanse. It was a cry of bewilderment and pain as much as victory, venting the overdose of every emotion.

Still, as a few seconds went by, the adrenaline and absurd power started to fade, leaving Xenron wondering about where it had come from. Xenron stood there dumbly, barely able to keep his footing. Secure the asset, he remembered, and thought with horror that his job might not be done. His horribly cold left arm throbbed all the more at the thought. Xenron shoved the scrap of his tattered glove in his mouth and bit down hard. He thought he might crack a tooth if not for it. The pain was incredible. Xenron turned, then, searching the apex for any signs of the target. Immediately, looking over the cliffside, he saw a girl about his age, perhaps a little older or younger. It was hard to tell. Her skin was cerulean, flecked with deeper patches as if freckled, but patterned like smooth stones at the bottom of a river. Her hair was silvery, almost white, floating about in the wind and giving her and ethereal quality that only her black jumpsuit grounded. She was a prisoner, but an important one. That was no surprise. She was Lucerna - a traitor and sworn enemy. Then, he had to bring her in. Yet, Xenron hesitated, transfixed for a moment. Unbidden phantoms fought to overlay his vision, his head throbbing as if he was tensing a muscle. He seemed able to keep them back - for now.

“Good work, recruit,” Bruce said at his side. Xenron startled. While his own breath still hadn’t settled, Bruce now stood alongside him atop the mountain, having expended no apparent effort. “Now, let’s bring in the prisoner,” Bruce continued. He touched Xenron’s shoulder then - Xenron roared into his improvised strap, his jaw seizing, but then he felt his re-frozen shoulder melt under Bruce’s magic. Whatever he’d done, Xenron relaxed slightly as his medical situation wasn’t likely to get worse in a hurry. “She escaped our custody during a recent skirmish, but she’s of significant political importance. It’s important to bring her in. I called you here to make sure that went off without a hitch.”

Xenron nodded dully, turning the girl and reluctantly dropping the strap from his mouth. He was thinking of something to say, but Bruce spoke first, apparently satisfied to take the lead.

“Lady Cynthia, I assume you’ll come without trouble? There’s nowhere to run.”

The girl turned golden eyes to them, looking around with unfocused astonishment, surprising Xenron. The strange way she looked about as if not really looking… blind? But the Lucerna are known for their incredible vision and foresight…

“I-I won’t let you use me against my father,” she said, voice wavering, and stepping back towards the edge. “Stay back!” She looked on with terror and disgust, and Xenron was shocked at the realism. Her form, her voice… they couldn’t be real, could they?

She stepped back again, almost to the edge. Xenron surged forward - she was going to fall! A blur passed, and then Bruce stood behind her, as if he had always been there. He twisted her arm behind her back, and she cried out pitifully. It was a distant thing, but Xenron thought he recognized her in that moment. It was a horrible feeling, and he pushed it aside. Could this be the psychological attack Ms. Vale was talking about? Bruce pushed her forward, and Xenron’s resolve firmed. Even if he was being manipulated, there were certain lines he couldn’t cross.

“Hold please, sir,” Xenron said, finding his voice steady. “She’s an important asset, is she not?” Xenron turned to her as Bruce raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. “Miss, I’ll make sure you’re kept safe until you can speak with your father again. Please. This mountain has taken to many already. This war has taken too many. Don’t do anything you can’t take back.”

His words seemed to shake her, and Xenron nodded to Bruce. “You’ll walk with us on your own, won’t you, miss? We’ll have hot tea and warm blankets back at camp. The rations taste worse than dirt, but they’re healthy… perhaps Simon will have brought in some game.”

Xenron’s mind generated the scenario naturally, and strangely, it didn’t feel like pretending. This mountain felt more real, more vibrant, than anything he could remember. It was only natural that the whole world around this place would be filled with brothers in arms like the one he found dead on the lower outcropping. Ms. Vale had shown Xenron enough battlefield footage that he sometimes woke trembling from nightmares - horrors, but necessarily so. He was still a pretender in this place, but it didn’t feel that way.

Bruce released the prisoner’s arm, and reluctantly, she walked forward, coming into step between Xenron and Bruce. Xenron kept a light hand on her shoulder to guide her - escaping Xenron’s frayed mind, a helicopter had somehow landed on the mountaintop, several meters away. His gun, he re-holstered on the other side - he didn’t want an incident.

“You’re doing great. Watch the big step up by your right foot. You seem to understand our language well. Do you have any songs you like? I can try to get something special brought in.”

Xenron tried to pepper the girl with reassurances, unable to stop himself. She’s an enemy, he reminded himself with difficulty.

She continued forward reluctantly.

Then -

A flash of light blinded Xenron as she pulled free. A hard step. A screamed incantation.

His vision cleared. A spear of light was aimed at Bruce.

She was free by his decision.

His mistake.

Xenron drew, aimed, and fired at the girl.

Her blood spread across the snow, and then the illusion shattered. Xenron stood there, panting and shaking, his gun clattering to the ground. He’d gripped it in his bad arm in a panic, and the pain was becoming unbelievable.

“Well done,” Bruce said, as the frozen world was replaced as panels flipped and terrain rearranged until the training room was back in its original configuration - no helicopter, no snow, no girl. “It would have been ideal if you’d captured her, but stopping the escape is the minimum requirement. You pass.” Looking Xenron over, Bruce continued. “Now, let’s tend those wounds. You really will be in danger if we don’t.”