A loud ringing sounded, signaling the end of the school day. I was the first to dash out of the room with my textbook and notebooks tucked into my arms. Within minutes I'd opened my locker, stuffed my backpack with everything I’d need to complete my homework that evening, and dashed out to the curb in front of the private middle school the government chose for me. 

As always, a black car with tinted windows was waiting for me. After greeting the poor agent who’d been assigned chauffeur duty we immediately joined the throng of cars attempting to escape the parking lot. 

After the first wave of gates around the globe had been successfully dealt with, the world drastically changed. For the first time in history, the entire world had a common enemy to fight against. Knowledge of gates, the monsters that inhabited them, and the mana that was released when the dungeon break occurred was shared globally in an attempt to fight against this new threat. 

The little basement lab that Dr. Montressor was in charge of became the leading mana research facility in California and was soon relocated to Los Angeles. Not only were they granted a state-of-the-art laboratory with a floor dedicated to each different research department, but the government also bought the adjoining building and converted it into a training facility for the people who exhibited supernatural abilities after coming into contact with mana. In the US these people were called “Enhanced”. 

As the youngest Enhanced on record, I was treated more as a glorified lab rat than the pseudo soldiers that everyone else was. No matter how much I said I could help, the adults around me refused to allow me to go with the gate-closing teams, saying stuff like “It’s morally wrong to allow a minor to fight monsters,” or some such nonsense. Not that I wouldn’t agree if I were a normal child, but it was hard not to feel smothered when I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself. 

Despite my protests though, two years passed with me being stuck in the training facility. It wasn’t all bad, of course. When I wasn’t at school or in a supervised training session where I explored the limits of my powers or was taught martial arts, I was usually hanging out in the laboratory. 

Being the research facility director’s foster daughter meant that I pretty much had free reign to visit any department I wanted. This made me one of the most informed people about the latest discoveries of mana, mana crystals, and mana potential. 

After two years Margie finally accepted the term “mana” and she made dozens of discoveries of the uses of mana in everyday life. Thanks to her and her team, mana crystals were verified as a clean form of energy that the world was slowly adopting. 

She also discovered, to my chagrin, that not all Enhanced could absorb mana directly from mana crystals. In fact… I was pretty much the only one who could. Most Enhanced simply absorbed the mana that was in the air of the dungeons and converted that mana into their unique power. From what Margie had found during the many many MANY tests that she conducted on me, it seemed that instead of converting the mana into a new power, I was able to utilize mana in its pure form and mold it to create almost any inanimate object I could clearly picture in my mind. After a long discussion with her fellow researchers, they finally classified my power as “mana manipulation”. 

The third big discovery that was made about mana was something called “mana potential”. Essentially every human being (so far anyway) was capable of absorbing and utilizing mana. However, there was a large range between the speed each person was able to absorb mana and the amount they could retain in their body. 

Some people could only absorb a miniscule amount of mana at once and although that mana would increase their stamina and physical capabilities by a small margin, they were not able to utilize the mana in order to exhibit a special power.

Then you had people like Gail who were able to quickly absorb a massive amount of mana. She was able to use that mana to control the gravity of herself and anything that she came into physical contact with. She was apparently a devastating opponent to face, but over the years of going on trips to the beach with Gail and seeing her use her gravity powers to pull off impossible surfing tricks, it was hard for me to see her power as intimidating.

Recently I’d been hearing scientists chatter about a global ranking system that other countries were proposing. I wasn’t surprised to hear that they were planning to use a letter system to rank people’s mana potential. From what I could gather, Rank F would be classified as humans who couldn’t manifest a power using mana. E-A ranks were able to use mana in a multitude of abilities but all had a limit to how fast and how much mana they could absorb, which in turn limited their power. Then there were S ranks who were able to absorb almost as much mana as they expended, making their powers nearly limitless as long as they had access to a steady stream of mana.  

It’s so strange to go through all of the initial stages of a story like this, I thought to myself with a shake of my head. Usually, the memories of my past lives are triggered when I meet my best friend for the first time. It's weird to have access to all of my memories but not know what story I am in.

I tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feelings of uncertainty as I left my chauffeur behind and walked toward the training facility. I marched purposefully toward the training director’s office. 

Once there I straightened my clothes and brushed back my auburn hair that had grown past shoulder length. Feeling as presentable as a 13-year-old could be, I knocked politely but firmly on the director’s door. 

“Come in,” a male voice called from inside the room. 

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked right up to the familiar desk. Since we were in California it would have been natural to assume that the man with cropped black hair and bronze skin had Hispanic ancestry, but actually, he was Native American. Over the last year and a half that I'd gotten to know him, he told me stories about growing up on a reservation where his ancestors' culture was still lived and celebrated. 

I wasn’t here to listen to more stories about the Chumash though. No, today I was going to convince Mr. Tumamait to let me go into a gate. 

“Don’t you have a martial arts lesson to get to?” Mr. Tumamait asked with one eyebrow raised. 

I couldn’t help but glance at the clock in worry but relaxed when I saw that I had 20 minutes before my scheduled training started. 

“I won’t take long, sir. May I have permission to speak?” I requested, making sure to remain as polite and respectful as possible. Mr. Tumamait wasn’t a fan of overly emotional children, but we had become close since I was more mature than your average teenager. 

“The answer is no,” he stated immediately, flicking his eyes away from me and back to the document he was reading before I entered. I balled my hand into a fist to keep myself from complaining about his preemptive rejection, but I didn’t leave the office. 

“Sir, I’m not asking to actively participate in clearing a dungeon,” I explained calmly, feeling a rush of victory when he lifted his head to regard me silently. “My mana levels are extremely low, which makes my training sessions and my checkup with Miss Margie difficult. I’d like permission to simply go into the dungeon with the clearing team. I promise I won't engage in any battles.” 

Mr. Tumamait’s dark brown eyes narrowed as he listened to me. He let out a “tsk” sound after my proposal was over which made my shoulders slump. 

“A child will only serve as a distraction to the clearing team. And we allot a portion of low-grade mana crystals for you to drain on a regular basis so there is no reason for you to go into a dungeon,” Mr. Tumamait pointed out firmly. 

I had to try really hard to keep myself from scowling at his stubbornness, but I was thoroughly prepared this time. There was no way I was giving up without a fight. A polite and logically-based fight, in any case.

“Gail Harrow has submitted an official request to include me in the next dungeon-clearing team,” I announced calmly, trying to toe the line between respectful and obstinate. 

With a scoff, he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach while interlocking his fingers. 

“While Gail is one of our most senior Enhanced, she does not have the final say in the clearing team personnel,” Mr. Tumamait responded with one corner of his lip quirked up in a smirk. Feeling relieved that he seemed to find my argument amusing instead of annoying, I pushed forward. 

“That’s true, which is why I had my training supervisor write me a letter of recommendation.” 

I immediately dug into my backpack and carefully removed the letter I'd placed in a pocket folder last week. Shifting my backpack on my shoulders I stepped forward and offered the paper with both hands to the director. His eyes glittered with amusement and I couldn’t help but smile when he reached out and took the letter. 

His eyes swept back and forth as he quickly read the letter of recommendation I worked so hard to convince my training supervisor to write for me. She’d been reluctant due to my age, but because of my past life experiences, I'd proven myself as capable as any adult was at protecting myself. 

After blowing through all of her lessons and using my quick wits and superior agility to knock her down in a sparring match, she admitted I was physically prepared to enter the gates. When I read the recommendation letter I was chagrined to see she recommended I get a psych eval done before approving my entry into a gate, but she at least gave me a glowing review for my physical capabilities. 

“Hmmm so because you’re a martial arts genius you think you can face down man-eating wolves and killer goblins?” Mr. Tumamait asked with a teasing glint in his eyes that soon hardened into displeasure. I could see his rejection coming so I quickly continued. 

“I killed a Blade Hornet and shielded myself and four adults from both a bomb and an exploding helicopter when I was eleven,” I reminded him with a hard edge to my voice.

Mr. Tumamait’s mouth closed slowly as he regarded me with a mixture of frustration and surprisingly what looked like a little bit of guilt. When he didn’t offer a comment immediately I pushed forward. 

“My ability to create impenetrable shields would be incredibly useful in a dungeon,” I pointed out, eliciting a weary sigh from the middle-aged man. 

“I thought you said you didn’t want to actively participate in the clearing?” he countered which caused me to mentally stumble. I quickly shook my head though and continued to push. 

“I know, and I promise I won’t if that’s what gets me access to a dungeon. But it’s been two years since I was filled up with mana. Your allotment of mana crystals, while I am grateful for them, is not enough for me to really experiment with my mana manipulation powers. I’m not going to be a child forever. I want to be able to do my part and help keep the people I care about safe. So please, even if you won’t let me participate in the clearing yet, please let me go inside the dungeon.”