Crystal-infused clothes, just like described in its name, were clothing articles that had special crystals infused, or molded, into them by tailors—some of them regular tailors, some crystallizing tailors. Crystallizing tailors would infuse a regular piece of clothing with their own crystals, while regular tailors used crystallizing mold devices to melt crystals, made by crystallizing users, inside the article of clothing. Crystallizing molds were not of substandard quality at all, nor were they easy to make, costing at least 50 four-star adult meals for a single one. Many tailors worth their salt owned one, however.

Using a bowl to melt crystal and soak the cloth would not suffice because the molds had additional features, a top part that the tailor presses down to forcefully crush and melt crystal—already a solid object that took an hour or many hours on its own to melt—which then drips into a hole in the middle of the platform, flowing down a cascade of steps that would layer in the proper places of the cloth. If soaked in a plain bowl, the crystal would not reach the proper layers and spots in the cloth to be effectively infused, as one crystal would not be enough, while also wasting a lot of time.

Of course there was a purpose to crystal-infused clothing: to protect one's hide against all forms of fire, whether a regular fire or special fire. The tailors were not exactly choosy with the clothing that they infused or molded. Not only was the service of tailors costly, but using them on better quality and appearance of clothing would also be costly. Some civilians would even use their cheaper or plainer clothes to avoid tainting their good ones with crystal properties. After all, the infused crystals had a 50% chance of melting away in the future. Fashion wise, they were not exactly pretty to wear for some. As a result, there were too many people still without them, and not enough fire extinguishers—the cause for Dillon's earlier implied sarcasm. Even if they did well to protect, it seemed like such a waste of funds to not instead use more on extinguishers; that the royal government used so much funding on the protective gear meant that expenses was not the reason that they would not produce more extinguishers.

Winston noted down this point for inquiry. It was obvious he meant it sarcastically, but for counseling purposes he would ask why Dillon made the remark. Anything to draw out emotion faster from an exceedingly empathic individual that insists on turning himself into ice at all times. Effective for recording, deplorable for therapy right afterward. If only he could persuade the commanders to send him in for two or three sessions every third month. Scheduling was not right for it, on top of their need for his tremendous talent, power, and diligence.

"When I finished at the tower, I went to lend aid to the cities, fearing that they were in danger. Not long after, I sent a dying man off, after hearing his final words and wishes. As I stood I found Osaic, who came along, but, it seemed, a bit too late. Large chunks of glass fell from above him, as fire had melted away some of a window frame high up. That night I lost him." There was not an ounce of emotion, as if he was not the one speaking at all. Or as if he did not even know what he said.

It wasn't the first time Dillon had lost an ally, but it was never once easy for him to talk about it. The first three times in a recording session, he would not mention their deaths, either giving vague descriptions or going silent. He made progress in that he would speak of them, even if only in a robotic trance. Winston didn't expect him to be callous about anyone's passing, but he hoped he would one day inflect emotion when talking about it, without coaxing.

They wrapped up the recording session in 35 minutes, with a robot as Dillon the entire way through. The most reprehensible part of his whole career began. Given his avoidance of therapy, he would not even bring it up as a conversational subject, even to complain. Not to Fay. Not to Anita. Not to any of his superiors. No one but Winston knew the story.

***

201 Year

"Hey, rein it in! Another peep's gonna cost you an arm and a leg!" a booming voice cut through the crew's chatter. "Get the hell to sleep."

He spat on the floor after he saw who the noisy crew was. Crailo, Nauz, Lor, and Dillon. His feral feline-like golden eyes focused on Dillon like clockwork.

Impossibly overbearing, proud, and glowing green as a ginta—the most green shade of a crystal to exist in the Kingdom—with an absurd jealousy, General Soldier Reynard of Barrier Unit's Team 0-13 watched his team with a bure-like ferocity and chauvinistic air. His eyes almost never left them during war, combat simulations, spars, and after curfew. He was insane with his authoritarianism, as well as small-minded when it came to areas of talent. Though Dillon followed law and order like a madman himself, Reynard never missed a chance to turn on him for anything minor, such as the way he used his power, the order he used it, or for whom he used it. Every soldier saw how unfair he was.

As four soldiers arrived at Tower 10's stairway door, Reynard turned to Dillon. "You. Stand here. The rest of us will go up." With that, Crailo, Nauz, and Reynard followed the crystal stairs up to the top of the tower, where they would have a high vantage point and put up their barriers in various weak spots.

Dillon couldn't believe it. A leader was targeting him in the middle of an active war? When this tower needed his barriers now more than ever? He turned his gaze to the forest at his left, smoke and fire rising behind trees in the distance, then he looked at the city to the right. His idea for a plan of action may well get him into trouble, but a soldier had to do what he could in the face of danger. Maybe he would talk to another general soldier about it.

Shutting his eyes, he visualized the barrier at the place he wanted it, chanting the mantra in his head needed to erect the barrier. Pointing outward, index and middle finger toward the edge of the forest, the barrier appeared, empty edges swiftly filling up with the rest of the crystal barrier. Each time he made a barrier, it seemed to pop and fill up faster, proving that his power was indeed still growing. Squinting ahead, he felt slightly different this time. Was he imagining it, or was the wall thicker than last time?

Slow approaching footsteps on dirt broke his concentration. Based on the steady pace, it was the march of a practiced soldier. Several feet away a tall man in uniform much like Dillon's own marched in a line towards him. However, an electric blue badge of valor indicating the General Soldier rank decorated the front of his black coat, next to the old Soldier badge.

"Soldier," he said in a deep voice, stopping and nodding. "Why do you stand here? Don't they need you up there?"

Saluting him, Dillon stood upright. "Sir, my team leader commanded that I stand here while they go up. However, I erected a barrier at the edge of this forest in case a fire spreads this way."

The man hummed, sounding puzzled as his eyebrows pulled together. "Is there any particular reason? What team are you with?"

"No particular reason, sir. Team 0-10, under General Soldier Reynard."

"Ah, you must be that newcomer." His minty eyes were sharp as they admired the barrier stretching from one edge of the forest to the other. "Impressive. So wide for a single barrier at your age, though you must be 22, or 23? I'll go talk to him, maybe put him in his place." His smile grim, yet intimidating, he passed him. "Come."

With such a stride of purpose, there was no way Dillon could stop him, though a drop of trepidation slid down his temple. He did not want to be General Soldier Reynard in that moment. What he did wish for, however, was the stranger's name. So tall, strong, dignified. He had the poise and air of a commander.

When they reached the top, a stretch of cement lay several yards down from one side to the other side. At the corner Nauz and General Soldier Reynard were watching the ground on the side they faced, backs turned to Dillon and the man with him.

"General Soldier Aster of Team 0-18, come to aid," he spoke suddenly, snatching the pair's attention. "Though why you called for me when you have a perfectly competent soldier at your side, I haven't the faintest."

Of course, he was referring to Dillon, his eyes cutting to him before returning to Reynard. The smile from downstairs didn't falter even a bit, sending chills down Dillon's spine and no doubt Nauz's too.

"Yes, Aster." Reynard glued hard eyes on the intruder, his words dripping with disdain. "That is true, but he was tired from using so much power. I simply let him rest while we worked."

What a bald lie! Dillon gave his superior a reproachful look, but Reynard looked as if he could not deign to look at a repulsive being like him. He was not the slightest bit guilty at lying straight to another equal's face. Clenching his fists, Dillon bit his lip.

Aster chuckled. "Really? How odd," he said, glancing at Dillon with a twinkle in his eyes. "Resting, is that right?"

"Y-Yes, sir," Dillon replied.

"Then what of the giant barrier that I saw? Admired so strongly? Praised as if it were a rare form of crystal? Were my eyes simply deceiving me? Reynard?"

Reynard turned on Dillon, golden eyes piercing through him, so full of venom that Dillon couldn't make himself look back.

"Right. That was mine, before we came up. We did not want the fire to spread over here, after all."

At this point Dillon wasn't sure what to do. He could only accept the contemptuous words. Swallowing the argument in his throat, he said, "It's...It's true, sir. I saw it."

Aster was no longer smiling. His eyes made of ice, he took a step forward. "Is that right. Your barriers are that wide, I see. Certainly different than the last time I observed you made." He gazed out at the barriers below them. They were a bit smaller than the one Dillon had made. "Maybe it took so much out of you that you couldn't make any more large, wide, thick ones like it."

Walking down to the middle of the tower, he faced outward and erected his own barriers, four appearing all at once in precisely unsafe areas. The speed with which it happened stunned Dillon. The others only gaped.

"I'll go. But be warned," he whispered by Reynard's ear, a hand on his shoulder, "I may think of dragging over that gem of yours to my side, if you insist on pretending not to know what you have."

Dillon got the cold shoulder the rest of the night, but he spent his time honing his power for the war and placing General Soldier Aster on a pedestal. If only his leader was that great.

At their dorm, Nauz, Dillon's roommate, informed him of what most knew about General Soldier Aster. He was only a soldier for four months before his promotion to General Soldier. He had been Team 0-18's General Soldier for one year, having been promoted at the height of his career. It was also at the peak of his powers, when it stopped growing, having become the strongest it could be. Most didn't want to compete in a show of speed against him, since what was special about his barriers was that he could erect so many at a single time, at an unmatched speed, with one or two chants. That kind of power was rare, making up only 6% of the barrier users' population. They were not as thick or strong as the 20% of users that created double barriers, but they were strong and held up against heat well enough.

His thoughts turned to his resentful leader.

"Feels bad to be you. I heard his talent prematurely stopped growing, once. When he was 22. Must be why he's picking on you like a fire to a Volcano," Lor told him when Dillon had been on their team for three weeks.

Nauz said, "Nah, it's because Dill keeps getting stronger than even our dear ol' leader. Talk about petty."

"But wouldn't you hate being in his shoes too? A superior who's weaker than a mere..." Lor glanced at Dillon, a sheepish look in his eyes.

Dillon smiled at them. "I didn't ask for this power."

"If you don't want it, send it here! A power that keeps growing is like money for us, you know. You'll probably make double barriers at this rate."

He nodded and watched as they began gossip about the female soldiers on another team, Lor's favorite topic. He pondered instead on when he would make double barriers, for he felt a tad more energy in his soul was being drained than originally. Each barrier he made grew thicker, making soldiers around him fussy about the rarity of such a power appearing among them, especially one who transformed instead of being born with it. He didn't want to draw attention, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. Others wouldn't understand, but Dillon needed to be innocuous. The less eyes and friends, the better for his inner peace.