XCEL

Back in the café, all was blissfully still. Most of the patrons had since left, and the voice on the television had faded to a dull drone. Kinuka had curled up on her chair like a cat, holding her bottle of water. She had no intention of drinking anything; it just gave her hands something to do. Opposite her, Rin was sprawled over his chair, eyes closed. He’d nearly expired from exhaustion.

The sound of smashing glass brought everything back into focus. Kinuka looked up with fright. The corner doors of the shop had been obliterated. Shards of glass flew everywhere. Terror ensued.

“Rin!” Kinuka shook the boy. “Wake up!”

Rin started, looking over the back of his chair. Two more Rejected, towering in the doorway, loomed ahead of them. He leapt out of his seat, immediately on guard.

Kinuka rose to stand behind him.

“Rejected—two of them!” She pointed. “I thought you'd already killed them all!”

“So did I…” Rin couldn’t take his eyes off the things. He seized his backpack from the floor, handing it to her.

“What the hell are those things?” The suited man from earlier was backing towards them, eyes fixed on the Rejected. “Stay away from me, you hear!?” He yelled.

The Rejected evidently didn’t hear. The man was in the way of their true target. One lunged forward and threw a powerful punch. It would’ve connected, too, had someone not seized the man’s collar from behind and yanked him backwards.

“Are you stupid?” Rin yelled at the man. “Get out of here!”

He looked over his shoulder to the woman behind the counter. “Hey! You need to leave, now! Take the back exit!”

Too scared to argue, she turned and fled, breaking open an emergency exit just out of sight. The man shuffled over the counter and followed.

“How did you know there was going to be an emergency exit?” Kinuka asked him.

“These kinds of floor plans are about as common as you can get,” Rin replied, still taking care to maintain distance between him and the Rejected. “I know them like the back of my hand.”

Just then, one let out a guttural yell, and lunged blindly at the boy. Rin wasn’t able to react in time. Its fist hit him square in the face. The impact sent the boy flying, smashing against the wooden paneling on the far wall, sending splinters and debris everywhere.

Kinuka cried out in shock.

Rin slid down the wall and slumped over, unconscious.

She scrambled to get as far away as she could. This wasn’t far enough, however. The first reject was soon advancing on her. Remembering how they had reacted the day before, Kinuka pulled the ascension blade out of Rin’s bag. The Rejected caught one sight of it and froze. She stood between them and Rin, warding the creatures away. Their attention was entirely on the knife. Should she throw it away and make a break for it? Rin had said it was far too dangerous for them to let it out of their sight. Then, what the hell was she supposed to do? Wait for another miracle? What chance was there of that? Her knees felt weak, but her legs were frozen. Her hands holding the knife’s hilt trembled. All she could do was pray.

“How the hell am I still alive?” Was Rin’s first question to himself, not that he had the slightest clue. He picked himself off the floor, the back of his head throbbing terribly. He had seen what that reject did to Mr. Uchino. There was no way he could’ve survived a direct hit like that.

“Rin!” Kinuka’s voice shook just as much as her hands. “Somebody help, please!”

“Open your eyes, boy.”

The Architect’s voice filled his mind. Rin looked to see the spirit floating in front of him.

“What the hell? Architect—”

Rin steadied himself, to see Kinuka holding the ascension blade, keeping both Rejected at bay. Time around him had dilated, everything slowing to a standstill. Kinuka and the Rejected were both frozen.

“Amibari—” Rin choked. “Architect! What the hell is happening? Everything’s stopped!”

“You are experiencing a moment of heightened consciousness. Time passes slower to you here. Besides,” the Architect growled, “I told you to open your eyes, boy!”

The throbbing in his head abruptly ceased. The impact had awakened something inside him. Rin inhaled sharply as his third eye opened, his mind overcome with sudden clarity.

“Focus.”

Rin did as he was told. He concentrated, looking deep into the Reject’s eye. His head was then filled with the most awful cacophony of screams, thousands of voices in pain. Rin yelled and clutched at his head, bent double.

“Can you hear them, boy? Can you hear their torment?” The Architect continued.

Rin managed a nod.

“Rejected are souls corrupted and overrun by the Eye’s influence. They exist in a perpetual, painful limbo between this world and the next. They are no longer in control of their bodies, their minds fragmented by the Eye’s overwhelming power.”

Rin gritted his teeth. That was too horrible to even think about. He concentrated on closing the channel between them; he never wanted to hear those awful sounds ever again. He stood up properly and staggered forwards, clutching his forehead. “Give me a moment.”

Suddenly, he was overcome with the strangest sensation. Abruptly rejuvenated, a shiver passed over his skin. He felt a strange energy suddenly start coursing through his veins. It was electrifying. He felt awake; he felt alive. Looking around, Rin could now see a strange energy crackling in the space around him. His field of view had been widened; he was capable of seeing everything.

“Hold onto this feeling, boy.” The Architect commanded. “You feel it now, don’t you? The flow of your psychic energy.”

“What is this?”

“Have you ever stopped to consider where it is that your thoughts and imagination come from, where those things exist?” The Architect questioned. “Are you really so complacent?”

Rin couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

“Some call it a soul,” the Architect continued. “Some call it thought; the consciousness you and all of humanity experience is due to psychic energy. Every second you spend conscious, you are producing more and more of it. When you think, you use it up, and grow weary. Normal people cannot perceive it, however. Now that you’ve awakened your Third Eye, you can see the flow of this energy. Now, you can harness it.”

Rin’s jaw slackened.

“You must learn to channel your psychic energy to defeat this reject.” The Architect continued, gesturing to the creature frozen in time. “You can’t hope to survive otherwise.”

Rin looked at his hands, at the strange energy. He was at a loss. “How? Do I shoot it, or something? I don’t have any weapons!”

“Every psyche user has a Specialty,” the Architect explained. “A unique ability, a product of their soul. It is the ultimate expression of one’s psychic energy.”

“Is that so…” Rin’s mind was suddenly filled with visions of him with superpowers aplenty. He grinned. “Then, what’s mine?”

“You don’t have one.”

Rin’s face fell.

“The ritual you carried out was incomplete. Had it not been, we would never have met.”

Rin remembered how fragmented the ascension blade looked, as though it had been split in two. “What do I do then?”

“Until you can call it your own, you will instead borrow and cultivate my power.”

The Architect held out a hand and snapped his fingers. A cube manifested, hovering and rotating in midair.

“Framework,” he said, grinning. “The power of construction.” The Architect brought his hands together and drew out bright white lines between his fingertips. He twisted his hands and wove the lines into a shape, moving them with practiced ease. “When you capture them, anything caught in its bounds will be cut out of reality, free for you to manipulate.”

Rin clenched his fist and concentrated. He felt the strange psychic energy flow through his limbs, gathering at his extremities. He shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. His movements felt lighter than ever before. What was this sensation? Rin did what the Architect had, and placed his fingertips together. He imagined drawing a line between each of them and, sure enough, when he drew his hands apart, those white lines manifested. He twisted his hands, brought them together, and created a square. Rin cried out, losing focus completely. The frame shattered.

“Did you see that?” He looked at the man. “I did it!”

The Architect didn’t look the least bit moved.

Rin hung his head. “At least try and show some enthusiasm.”

The Architect snapped his fingers to get Rin’s attention. “The flow of time will soon resume. Both of your lives are in peril,” he continued. “This time, I will not be helping you. I have given you the tools you need to survive. How you choose to use them will determine your fate.”

And just like that, the Architect was gone. The commotion then resumed. The groans of the Rejected, the sound of glass smashing underfoot. Rin stood motionless for a moment, before his face lit up.

“Amibari! When I give the signal, pass me the blade!”

“Ok!” The girl didn’t look back. She was steadily losing ground.

Rin took a moment to focus. Psychic energy flowed through him and into his legs. He bent his knees, lowering his centre of gravity. He then took off, moving faster than he ever had before. In the blink of an eye, he appeared between Kinuka and the reject, holding out his hand behind him.

“How did you—”

“Now!” Rin yelled.

On instinct, she thrust the blade towards him. His hand closed around the metal hilt, and he jumped. The ground shook as he soared, the blade held high above his head. Rin let out a yell, and plunged the knife deep into the reject’s eye. The creature screamed. Jets of blood spurted from the wound and all over the shop. It stumbled around blindly, smashing tables and chairs, arms thrashing wildly.

The knife was dislodged from the eye, clattered to the ground, and skidded a few feet away. Kinuka dived towards it.

Rin had kicked off the reject’s body and stumbled to a halt. He pressed his fingertips together, and began to approach.

Framework

枠組 Wakugumi

The boy drew out white lines between his fingers as he pulled his hands apart. He twisted the lines together, and made a square. It weighed nothing at all, and moved with just the slightest gesture. Rin gripped it tight. Anything in between the vertices would be cut, the Architect had said. He could use this. The reject was still stumbling around, reeling from the injury to its eye.

Psychic energy surged through Rin’s legs once more, and the boy dashed towards the monster. He swung the square frame at the creature’s knee, and the frame passed right through.

Capture

A sickening sound, and the frame glossed over, slicing right through the creature’s knee. It toppled with another screech, lashing out at Rin with a heavy arm. Rin dived forwards, narrowly avoiding his head being taken off. He slipped on the blood coating the floor and slid a further metre, colliding with a broken table and wincing as he rolled over shattered glass.

“Rin, are you alright?!” This was Kinuka. She had taken to one corner and made herself as small as possible, the ascension blade clutched tightly at her chest. “How did you just do that?”

Rin got to his feet, brushing the glass off his arms. “I can make these shapes, and cut whatever’s in between. I’m going to kill these guys.”

A dark look shone in his eyes. Kinuka recognised it.

Resolve.

The first reject, incapacitated, was a whirlwind of agony, desperately trying to haul itself back upright despite its one functional leg. The second approached Rin, undeterred. It roared and charged at him.

Quick, defence—Rin thought. He didn’t have time to evade. The Architect had said Framework was the power of construction. Couldn’t he make a barrier with it too?

The reject threw a punch, but Rin was ready.

Framework

枠組 Wakugumi

He made another frame, rectangular, and shoved it out in front of him. The barrier tanked the blow, shattering like a pane of glass. The reject stumbled back from the recoil. Rin saw his chance. He made another frame and darted forward. Channelling psychic energy into his leg, he drove a heel into the creature’s sinewy knee. Bone shattered and ligaments snapped. The reject sunk to one knee, its towering form now level with Rin. It reached out to grab the boy’s throat, but Rin had another frame ready. Its hand passed through the square, and the frame captured, severing it at the wrist. Steeling himself through the blood and the screams, Rin created one final frame, a much larger one this time, and positioned it diagonally across the reject’s torso.

Capture

The frame cleaved clean through flesh and bone; the two halves of the monster’s body slid apart and hit the floor with a thud.

Rin stood still. He wondered whether he should feel bad. That guy had once been someone. Maybe he had a family, a son who he never saw. Rin used his third eye and peered into the reject’s own. The screams were more distant. Instead, Rin heard crying. Horrible sobs filled his mind. He knelt down next to the top half of the reject, still squirming and bleeding.

“Sorry.”

One more frame, and the reject’s head was separated from its neck. The reject broke apart, disintegrating into blackened ash.

Rin stood up and turned to Kinuka. Taking a step, he offered his hand.

“Grab hold. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“Rin!” She pointed. “Behind you!”

It was too late. The second reject, the one whose knee Rin had cut to start with, punched a hole clean through his stomach. He tried to speak, but coughed up a spray of blood instead. The reject retracted its fist, and the boy’s eyes glassed over. He fell forwards, hitting the ground next to his kill.

Kinuka couldn’t look away, she couldn’t blink. She felt bile in her throat. Fear gripped every nerve in her body. She no longer had limbs, they were all so numb. All she could see was Rin lying down on the floor, blood oozing from the wound in his chest. She tried to scream.

The reject’s groan brought her back to reality. The ungainly horror stepped over Rin’s corpse, and lumbered towards her. Kinuka shrank into the corner, clutching the ascension blade tight against her chest. She pointed it at the creature, but it was no use. Her hands were trembling too much. It didn’t seem to be scared of her anymore.

It’s all over, she thought, screwing her eyes tight shut. I’m going to die here.

Her parents’ faces, and those of her friends, flashed into mind.

I’m sorry, everyone. Please forget about me.

“You really think that I… forgot about you?”

There was another sound of flesh being cleaved, and Kinuka opened her eyes. The two halves of the reject, cut cleanly down the middle, now lay on either side of her. The blade in her trembling hands clattered to the ground, and she took a shaky breath. Rin was standing, the hole through his chest a window to the outside world, holding a larger frame in one hand.

“No-one,” Rin slurred, swaying on the spot, “and I mean no-one, punches a hole in me and gets away with it!”

And then, he was out. The light in his eyes left, and he fell forwards. Kinuka scrambled to catch him, and laid him across her lap.

How was he still alive? She thought, pressing a hand to his wound. She felt for a pulse. His heart rate was dangerously slow, and still falling. Rin was going to die in her arms, and there was nothing she could do about it. Kinuka wept, her tears mixing with the blood that coated her arms, her legs, and the whole shop floor.

Don’t die on me, Rin. Her prayer was useless. Her sobs wracked her chest, as she held the boy close. Please, don’t die.

“It’s finally time,” said a familiar, angelic voice inside her head.

In that moment, all the puzzle pieces, every fragmented memory, suddenly realigned itself into crystal clear detail inside Kinuka’s head. “Seamstress!”

“You wish to save him, correct?”

The bandage around her forehead fell away, as her third eye opened. Suddenly, she could see everything—feel everything—all at once. The pain was excruciating, and Kinuka cried out. Through it all, however, she still managed to speak.

“Yes.” She gritted her teeth. “I want to save him.”

“Then, let us form a contract.”

Kinuka felt the Seamstress’ spirit loom over her. She saw her hands move by themselves, hoisted on thin threads. The world around her began to unravel, everything splitting apart.

“Held in a gilded cage for so long,” the spirit’s voice continued. “You wish to take back control over your own life; what is your resolve, my dear?”

“For the first time in my life, I have the choice.” Kinuka grit her teeth and stood. Starting with the ends of her clothes, she saw everything around her begin to unravel into a marvelous display of technicolour thread. “I’m going to find out what’s going on, and unravel this garment of lies!”

The Seamstress chuckled. “Then our contract is sealed.”

Kinuka cried out as she saw the split corpse of the reject begin to unravel into thread. The thread rose into the air and wound itself into reams. Her hands moved by themselves, controlled by the woman’s spirit. She began to weave the thread made of flesh into the cavity of Rin’s chest, healing his wound right before her eyes. Kinuka couldn’t believe what she was seeing. With every graceful hand movement, the hole in his chest became smaller and smaller until, at last, it disappeared. The woman’s spirit faded, and Kinuka’s third eye closed. Her hands dropped limply to her sides, as she felt Rin’s chest begin to rise and fall.

For a moment, she simply sat there, dumbfounded. Soon, however, she found the strength to stand and, with difficulty, she began to drag Rin out of the café by his arms. They couldn’t stay here, she knew. The police would surely come, and that wouldn’t be good news for either of them.

She had to get him away. All she hoped was that he was still alive.

* * *

Rin’s Further Plane had once been a concrete expanse underneath an empty sky. No longer; a myriad of skyscrapers now stretched up into the distance. Well, not exactly skyscrapers. Featureless and grey, they were little more than monoliths. Their size, at least, was something to behold.

Rinkaku Harigane lay on his back and stared upward, unblinking. He tried to follow the towers up unto the heavens, but the tops escaped his line of sight.

He’d technically just killed two people.

Killing was something he’d never had to consider. Of course it was wrong. That went without saying. But, did the rejects still qualify as people? They had been once. Were they no longer? Rin had seen inside their souls. He heard their screams, trapped in torment. Their bodies had been reduced to husks, vessels for a cosmic deity he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

Rin couldn’t fathom it. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He just lay there, unseeing.

The Architect’s voice boomed from somewhere nearby. “You’ve changed, boy.”

Rin didn’t answer him initially.

“I’m tired.” He said, and it was true. He couldn’t feel the crackling psychic energy pulse through his muscles anymore. His arms and legs felt like lead. He tried to clench his hands. The tendons in his fingers ached.

“I’m not surprised.” The Architect sat on a throne nearby, presumably of his own construction. He gazed down at his inheritor, watching.

“Hey, Arch?” Rin turned his head sideways. “Am I dead?”

The Architect held his chin in the crook of one palm. “Why do you say that?”

“That reject… really got me, didn’t it?” Rin felt his stomach and winced. He felt the incomparable shock once more, the moment the creature’s gigantic fist had torn a hole through his gut. “I guess I—” He couldn’t believe he was saying this— “I guess I failed.”

“Are you truly so quick to forfeit your dream?” The Architect snorted. “Such talk. How disappointing. And here your pitiful life was saved for naught, what a shame.”

Rin sat dead upright. “You saved my life?”

“No. I simply reinforced your vitals with psychic energy at the moment of impact. That honour goes to the girl.”

Rin couldn’t believe it.

“You ought to be grateful.” The Architect still looked unimpressed. “From the way you treat her, no wonder you’re such a miserable little wretch.”

Rin opened his mouth with a retort ready, but fell silent. He stared at the ground, wishing he could just disappear.

“Is she alright?”

The Architect nodded slowly. “You did as you promised. Both Rejected have been destroyed. Well done.”

Rin took a deep breath, then stood. His hands still hurt, but he tried and made another frame. The construct levitated above his hand. He pushed it gently with a finger, and it spun.

“Framework,” Rin repeated, awed.

The Architect nodded. “Your path as a psyche user has begun, and your further plane has developed to match.” The man gestured around at the newly-formed towers. “It will develop further still, given time.”

“I’m limited,” Rin said, irritated. “I can only just make these squares. Even then, I can only hold onto them for so long, or else they’ll disappear.”

On cue, the square frame spinning in his hand began to disintegrate.

“Frustrating, isn’t it?” The Architect asked.

Rin nodded, looking away.

“It means you have found something to apply yourself to.” The Architect nodded. “I suspected there was a reason for your high amount of psychic energy. You’ve never had to truly exercise your mind before, have you? Nothing in your life has presented you with a true challenge before.”

No response.

“As I thought. I’ve seen inside your mind, boy. You invent challenges for yourself to stave off the boredom, continually striving for loftier and loftier projects. Yet, even that isn’t enough. You’ve been craving a true challenge ever since you were a child.”

“Hey!” Rin raised his voice, “I didn’t ask for a—”

“Let me finish. Framework is not a skill that will come easily to you. You have potential, but no discipline. What you employed against those rejected wasn’t even scratching the surface of what is possible.” The Architect’s grin gleamed from below his helmet. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

He stood from his throne and walked past Rin, facing an empty spot of land. Performing a complicated gesture with his hands, the Architect manifested several complex frames. He then began to shape them, twisting and pulling at each vertex, adding layers upon layers of detail.

Rin couldn’t help but step closer. Each motion looks so purposeful, yet so intricate—he was enraptured.

With a final expansive gesture, the frame expanded to a gigantic size.

Qima Ilahiya

来天御殿 Kīma Ilahīya

With a final clap of his hands, what was once a transparent outline suddenly took physical form. A gigantic sandstone palace manifested in front of the Architect, the rush of wind nearly knocking Rin off his feet. A four-tiered stonework masterpiece had been constructed before his very eyes, rows of decorative pillars flanking the runway to the building itself.

“What the—” Stumbling backwards, Rin had to tilt back his head to get a proper view. His mouth hung open, as words escaped him. They didn’t for long, however. “What the hell?!”

“Framework is the power of construction,” the Architect reiterated, folding his arms. “This is just one subset of the power you now hold, boy. Let this palace stand as inspiration to fuel your endeavours.”

Rin wasn’t listening. Running past the Architect, he arranged his thumb and index fingers in a rectangle, looking at the building through the lens, giddy with awe. “Just look at that ratio!” He cried. “Those pillars! That’s amazing!”

This went on for quite some time.