Dharunma’s anger is a well known fact to many neytives. Those from the Vitares trybe know how he gets when his temper flares up. Whether it’s a small miscalculation or an involuntary action from another, he’ll need to vent his aggressions through his trigger.

Right now, he’s in the Integration Cube, letting off some steam and using a large quantity of blood for target practice. Giant orbs and thin ribbons of blood gravitate around his hand. When it hardens, he shoots them off haphazardly. Several trees, monuments and huts are pelted with thick red blood. His trigger is strong enough to make a hole in everything he hits. The only sound filling the space is Dharunma’s barbaric screams.

He doesn’t feel a speck of guilt for using the isle of Vitares for training.

Fields of grass and wheat fill the center of the cube. A large forest sprouts out of the floor on the left side. The docks where Dharunma said goodbye to several neytives stretches along the right side. A number of shrines and small huts appear near the entrance of the cube, with a variety of symbols etched into the stones. The ceiling changes to a beautiful sky with orange, yellow and white clouds. The integration would be amazing if he had at least one good memory of his home.

After the argument with the Hydradon, Dharunma’s blood kept boiling the entire dial. Her very presence irritates him to his core. How will he endure the journey to Novennéa?

He begins to feel exhausted from using his trigger for so long. He trudges over to the podium and taps the icon twice.

The cube changes back to its initial blank white state. All the surreal things seep back into the crevices along the walls and floor. Dharunma tries to convince himself that he wasn’t back on Myalón, but the cube makes it feel like a fever dream, or even a nightmare.

He was too exhausted from his training to realize that there was a neytive crouching behind a melting tree.

The neytive is around his age, with tanned skin and short dark blue hair. His piercing black eyes stare straight at Dharunma and he speaks. “Hello.”

“Hey,” he responds. “I did not see you come in. How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

“A while?”

“Actually, I have been here all dial,” The neytive walks over to the podium and scrolls through the icons. “I was here when the Inphernos, Ra-Dimar and Wavotio neytives used the cube.”

The space changes again, only this time it’s not a forest or a field or the docks. The floor is covered with parallel stone paths and buildings rise up a few stories around them. The ceiling darkens, but one of Myalón’s moons hangs above their heads. Several lanterns glow a mystic blue hue at the corner of each building. The village appears to be more advanced compared to the isle of Vitares.

He looks at the buildings again and recognizes the architecture from his studies. A jog through his memory recalls a detail, revealing who the mystery neytive is. “You are from the Quadiant trybe.”

The neytive replies with a curt nod. “My name is Horakio.”

When the environment stops forming, both neytives stroll along the paths and remain quiet until Dharunma disrupts the silence, “What happened with the neytives who were here earlier?”

“Nothing good,” Horakio stops to lean against a building that looks like it’s starting to give way. The windows are smashed in and the wooden supports are wobbling. The Quadiant has a bored expression on his face, as if the replication of this cube is nothing to get excited over. He tell Dharunma everything that happened. From the fight between the Ra-Dimar and Wavotio neytives to the intervention of the Inphernos. “I hid myself in the corner. It was not my place to do or say anything for them.”

“Of course,” Dharunma grits his teeth. “Why would that not happen on the first dial of this voyage?”

Horakio slides down the wall and sits with his knees pulled to his chest, “What if a neytive tells you something you do not want to hear. You were upset when Xen said what he said. All the candidates are thinking about what they already know about the trybes. No one is thinking about who they really are now. That is why you and Lynette were fighting earlier, right? Because of an old grudge.”

Dharunma has a hard time processing what Horakio was telling him. It’s hard to hear when there’s a painful ringing in his ears.

First, the Quadiant is smarter than he looks. He’s paying close attention to everything around him and he can interpret situations quicker. Second, the Hydradon’s name was Lynette. Horakio must have stayed in the Celestial Chamber long enough to gather names.

The words that come out to respond leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. “That is different.”

While his thoughts attempt to clear up his mind, he sees something dripping down Horakio’s leg. Covering his knee and calf is a coat of blood.

“Did... did I hit you?” Dharunma asks him with worry.

Horakio gives an honest answer, “Yes. You did.”

Dharunma loses his strength to stand up. He didn’t know Horakio was in the cube with him. A feeling of remorse crawls into the pit of his stomach. “I am sorry. I did not want... I mean I did not know…”

“I am fine. You were holding back a lot of anger. It did sting a little when it struck my leg. I can hardly feel it anymore,” Horakio looks at him as if the wound didn’t affect him. His reassurance doesn’t quell the guilt racking up inside of him.

Dharunma just stands where he is. The cool air calms him down for a moment. Perhaps it’s the setting they’re in that’s giving his mind some peace. Maybe it’s the Quadiant neytive who can easily read him that’s making things simpler to handle. All he knows is that his anger has dissipated.

Horakio stands back up and walks toward him. “Seriously, I am fine.”

With everything that has happened, Dharunma didn’t realize his heart was out in the open. He grabs the seams of his jacket and covers it up. He’s always been embarrassed by the fact that his heart can be easily seen.

“If you want to make up for attacking me with your blood trigger, you can show me what you are hiding,” Horakio points to his own chest. 

Dharunma’s composure is building up and falling apart simultaneously. He unzips his jacket and shows off his heart. He gently scoops out the organ and holds it in his hand. The heart continues to circulate the blood that stays inside. It still contains a mess of dark scars on the surface.

“Amazing,” Horakio gazes at the organ for a moment. “And it does not hurt when you do that?”

Dharunma can’t help but put a smile on his face. A neytive who isn’t from his isle and isn’t repulsed, is taking an interest in his heart. He’s received nothing but negative reactions his whole life about it. It might be Horakio’s vague response that’s filling him with relief. The mere thought of the events earlier drift away.

Horakio reaches out to touch his heart, which he had no problem with. Once his finger grazes the organ, his other hand holds Dharunma’s hand in place. A sudden instinct kicks in and activates his fracture ability. He can’t stop his ability from taking over and he lets it happen. It doesn’t take long to learn more than he should have.

He looks into Horakio’s eyes, “Impossible.”

“What?” the Quadiant asks him with his heart pulsing in between them.

“You…” he stutters over the revelation. “...are not…”

Shock overtakes Horakio. He backs away in fear. “Yes. I am.”

Dharunma watches him turn and run out of the cube. He wants to follow him out, but the moment he steps forward, Horakio is gone. He was halfway to the door just a moment ago, then he just vanished.

Now he’s the only neytive left inside the cube.

The frustration that was gone comes back. He shoves his heart back in his chest and summons another orb of blood. He shoots at the closest windowpane near him.

The shattering of glass causes Dharunma to jumble his thoughts again. His instincts took control and it did something it shouldn’t have. He has to think of a way to try and fix this. He doesn’t want to ruin his chances of having the Quadiant neytive as an ally.