The infinitesimal echo of timeless and distorting energy groaned through Khonsu's fingers. He clicked them, feeling his mana itself flittering through reality.

He stepped forward, twirling the Cibos' diamond. Khonsu slipped his hands inside his pockets, a languid, entertained smile painted atop his imperious, yet still unconcerned visage.

Khonsu knocked on the ancient, almost crumbling palace's gate, snapping his silver gaze at the obliterated corpses. The time-manipulator contorted existence, watching until the door dispelled into brimming fragments.

I stepped through one of Srooa's innumerable and glassy lanes, occasionally gyrating my dagger. I disregarded the incredulous or dubious gazes of the empire's mages and citizens; sauntering into the museum.

I detected a distorting, yet boiling writhing of mana. Raising a bewildered, baffled eye-brow to myself, I slipped into the museum's corridor - identifying Wukong's presence.

It was Osiris' mana pulsing, his ability to manipulate the climate itself was rather bemusing. I settled into a chair, noticing Wukong: who inspected Foaler's rapier's scintillating runes.

"It carries a presence." Wukong incredulously grouched to himself; puzzled. His crimson irises scanned Foaler's blade's energy, the latter hefting a slice over to Osiris' hip. "Ice. I feel something glacial."

"Something glacial?"

Huffing outwards, Wukong granted me a dubious, cheeky once-over, sipping the straw inside his milk-shake. My childish, disgruntling companion stretched, chuckling. "Yep. Something frosty."

"Are you on liquids?" I interrogated; almost concerned. He detected someone inside the rapier, sealing an individual was impossible - unless it was the user's magic-type. "Hm..."

"Maybe." Wukong flippantly shrugged; unperturbed. He slouched into the arena's chair, summoning his signature staff - Horuss - tapping his tool. "I kinda wanna battle Mr. Haughty, too."

Mr. Haughty?

Wukong casually elongated his staff, still peering at the tour-guide's blade. Foaler Winsn twirled his rapier, aiming for Osiris' cheek. He smacked it back, colliding his knee into Foaler's face.

"Could we convince professor Krwn and Foaler to battle us? Two-v-Two?" I murmured, settling into the minuscule arena's chair. I suspired to myself, feeling another boiling, sizzling boom. "Osiris is going crazy..."

Osiris' knife groaned, clanging until the air contorted. I detected a distortion in the atmosphere, observing as Foaler's rapier's symbols twinkled - dispersing the warmth with an antique echo of water.

Foaler immediately stepped forward, his scales slipping onto his feet. The tour-guide chuckled, blurring towards Osiris: whose crimson gaze glistered. Foaler sauntered behind him, tripping Osiris onto the surface.

His weapon danced inside his glossy, yet still, calloused fingers - as his blade hovered above Osiris' neck. Foaler's visage was rather pitiless; elated. He flicked a loli-pop into his burnished, smooth mouth, dispersing his weapon.

"Good one." Foaler lackadaisically complimented; unimpressed. His scales crawled back into his own neck, their scintillation dissipating. He acclimated his tuxedo's tie, laughing. "You're strong. Still, I'm sure you're a sore loser."

Osiris dispersed his twinkling, shuddering knife onto his centre. Coughing something inscrutable to himself, he climbed to his feet, glancing over to Raiqen: who gave him a mocking, cheeky chuckle.

Foaler canalized his weaker, inferior mana into his legs, hopping back onto the higher-section of the museum. Wukong tapped his staff atop his chair, expanding it before hurling himself onto the surface.

I chuckled blithely to myself, channelling my energy into my feet. The mana pulsed through my body until I noticed my class hovering on Saue's gargantuan cloud. I bounced back onto the terrain, sighing.

"Something wrong?" Karasuu nonchalantly interrogated, sliding a smooth, silky finger along his blade's shimmering, yet twinkling scabbard. He flicked his glassy and burnished cheek, humming. "You-"

Wukong slammed into Karasuu's shoulder-blade, both of them immediately rolled into the innumerable statues of the corridor. Wukong groaned to himself, dispersing Horuss - his favoured weapon. "What the hell, Karasuu?!"

"You hurled yourself into me." Karasuu lazily mumbled, brushing a single, yet gentle finger along his neck. Wukong shrugged; unconcerned. The former suspired outwards, twirling his shuddering blade. "Dumbass."

"Okay, class!" Professor Krwn vociferated languidly, hooking his knife back onto the belt connected onto his sapphire slacks. He snapped his fingers, lifting up the flood of children. "We're going to the hotel!"

Raiqen and I both inspected his stolen, painting paper. My listless, yet still, rather vociferous class-mate chuckled, electricity frolicking through his icy, glacial fingers. He clicked them, contorting his inner, brimming mana.

The paper - similar to a puppet for a play - writhed, booming until a shroud of electricity encompassed the material. Raiqen clapped, aiming the paper for my bland, incredulous visage.

I immediately rolled forward, flitting through the room - as I opened up the bath-room door. Huffing inwards, I noticed a pile of my clothes in the corner. Someone hurled my outfits into the bathroom? Wukong for certain.

I picked up a pair of azure slacks and a rather bland, crimson t-shirt, an article of sleeveless clothing. Slipping into them, I flexed my muscles, feeling the gentle boom of magical-power inside my flesh.

My pulsing mana instantly dispelled. I opened back up the bath-room door, identifying Karasuu, Saue, and Osiris all writhing inside a coil of paper - electrocuting them. 

"IT BOILS!"

I laughed blithely to myself; entertained. My sapphire irises scintillated, calling to the dead. I snapped my fingers, summoning a phantom of thunder. The spectre glanced at the crowd of squirming children, sighing.

My summoned ghost clapped, merging its spectral fingers with my mana. My phantoms, if using spells, would need to utilize mana from me - the one who called them. I chuckled, observing the thunder and spectre dissipate.

Lifeless magic was a type of mana connatural to me. Perhaps my sire - or mother - could utilize a similar power of manipulating the dead. The spell I used was called [Phantom-Control] - I could summon spectres on a whim.

They varied from where I called for them. The Electric-Phantom used up an unnatural amount of mana. Still, my average volume of magical-energy was moderately superlative.

The weakness was rather baleful for my physical shape - for the wounds the phantoms were given would merge into my own skin and complexion. Karasuu could restore my health back, but another weakness existed.

Professor Krwn strode towards my infinitesimal group of buddies - settling into one of the hotel's eating-room's chairs. He twirled his knife, slashing through his slice of Cibos-Meat and cucumber.

Krwn immediately slipped the food into his calloused, almost sizzled lips - groaning in suppressed, yet still brimming satiation. His sleeve wiped his frothing, greasy, mouth; chuckling. "Ah, some good food, eh?"

"Indeed." I blandly grouched, stabbing my knife into my Cibos-Meat-Burger. The ingredients wobbled - as I noticed an unsettling, greasy liquid drifting through my meal. "I'm sure it's flavoured."

"Oh, the burgers are gross." Professor Krwn's nose wanly rasped. My mentor summoned a fork from his centre - if someone was powerful enough they could store a castle inside. "The cucumber is delicious!"

Osiris and Wukong both scanned their meal, my growling, aggressive companion's spoon lifting up the soup atop the cutlery. The former flicked his sandwich, disregarding the over-spilling oil from his food. "Interesting."

"Osiris...Oil's interesting?" Wukong incredulously interrogated; bewildered. He clicked his teeth in bafflement - as he sailed the brimming soup - merged with Cibos-Meat and tea - into his cheeky tongue. "The hell is this?!"

Okay. Perhaps I hurled some tea inside his soup bowl.

Karasuu chuckled to himself, an entertained ripple distorting his imperious, yet still humoured visage. Wukong groaned in umbrage, flitting over to Karasuu and they rolled through the surface.

I glanced towards Wukong's signature staff - Horuss - and immediately stepped over to my friend's favourite weapon. Still, Wukong summoned it back - smacking Karasuu in his glossy, entertained face.

I instantly detected a distortion in the atmosphere. I identified Osiris' presence drifting through the air - until a zephyr slammed me forward - as I settled into the battle I created by merging tea into a bowl.

My class-mates and I all straightened ourselves up - while professor Krwn and Foaler inspected our personal outfits. The latter eyed my sapphire slacks; decorated with the symbol of a white fire above my trouser-leg.

I sailed a smooth, bland finger through my crew-neck, sapphire t-shirt and slipped my hands inside my pockets. Suspiring outwards, I noticed Foaler and Krwn hauling a rather large package of clothing.

"Okay, class." Krwn languidly grouched, flicking the runes painted over the packaging material. I raised a puzzled eye-brow, being reminded of the runes back in the Rusteed dimension's dungeon. "This is for the festival."

"The ruler of Srooa is going to be in the festival." Karasuu blithely murmured. He snapped his purple gaze through his ebony cap-sleeve t-shirt, decorated with the image of a fragmented glaive. "She always comes." 

Professor Krwn clicked another one of the glistering runes, his charcoal irises flitting as they inspected the inscrutable symbols. He opened up the box - emptying the innumerable and different types of dresses and shirts.

"Foaler's underrating the festival." Krwn gruffly groused, his rumbling, listless falsetto echoing. Straightened his tie, my mentor snapped his fingers - as I watched the articles of clothing floating. "Heh..."

"Your professor's pretty famous through the dimensions." Foaler casually chuckled, slipping a lollipop into his lips - until coughing. Our tour-guide clicked his teeth in concealed agony, sighing. "Damn, choking..."

I immediately gazed into the bath-room mirror, inspecting my almost buttonless, sapphire shirt - while acclimating the collar. I flicked the tie; unimpressed. Suspiring inwards, I stepped back into my class-mates' bedroom.

I sauntered over to my bunk-bed, crawling through the ladder until settling onto the top. Sliding on my leather, ebony coat - the material felt rather coarse - I chuckled. "This is kinda stiff."

"Indeed." Karasuu wanly groused, acclimating his own, purple tie. He hooked a fedora over his charcoal hair, sliding his purple irises towards Wukong: who laughed. "I feel...Unique."

"Yep!" Wukong vociferously mocked; his cheeky, blithe soprano creaking. He leaned onto his staff, shuddering as he felt the glassiness of his crimson shirt and v-neck sweater. "This field-trip sucks!"

Karasuu disregarded his vociferations of umbrage and alarm, glancing over to Osiris, Raiqen, and Saue, they wore a more traditional, white shirt and charcoal slacks uniform. "It's ending soon, you cry-baby."

"I'd rather be in a bed." Raiqen languidly grouched to himself, sinking into Saue's squirming cloud. He slouched into the cushion of mana, chuckling. "Eh, good enough."

Osiris sauntered towards me, his crimson, lackadaisical irises still inspecting his signature, favourite novel. Scanning my mana, he flittered onto another page. "Vasurai."

Vasurai? It was a less-utilized version of my name. I occasionally regarded myself as Vasurai. Still, I seldom used the name - for the one who conceived me dispelled. "Hm?"

"I wanted to interrogate you on something." He blandly murmured, eyeing Wukong, Karasuu, Saue, and Raiqen. Osiris snapped his fingers, his book contorting back into its pouch. "The dimension you were missing in?"

"Oh, it's called Rusteed or something." I hoarsely retorted, disregarding my throat's dryness. I stepped towards a desk, gulping in an intake of water from my bottle. "Khonsu was checking out the place's dungeon."

"The bootless runes." Osiris stoically murmured to himself; unimpressed. He granted me a precipitous, pitted nod, settling back into his chair. "Thanks. I guess..."

Bootless runes?

Wukong immediately flitted over to me, his fire-brick gaze inspecting Karasuu's twinkling glaive. The runes of his own blade pulsed; growling. "I feel another presence!"

He snatched the blade from Karasuu: who raised an unbothered, puzzled eye-brow; unperturbed. Wukong slipped a smooth, bewildered finger through the glaive's symbol; bemused. "No, it can carry a presence?"

"Enough." Raiqen lamely interrupted, summoning a clang of brimming electricity. Okay, they were becoming dramatic. Suspiring inwards, I exuded a boom of my own mana-type. "Huh?"

"Screw the presence." I wanly grouched, sliding the glaive back to Karasuu. He channelled his mana into his new weapon, the symbols groaning. "Come on, we're going to the festival."

Wukong still glanced towards Karasuu's glaive. The weapon's markings twinkled, brimming until Karasuu's mana depleted. He tapped his own staff, stepping through the path.

Keen eyes.