On his first day, Michael Caelum had made a mess of the operating theater’s viewing platform. He had emptied his stomach on the spot when he saw the sight of blood and what the researchers did in the operating room. The adults had consoled him and told him that his reaction was normal, that he would get used to it the more he was exposed to Elisium’s research. Although Michael had stopped vomiting at the sight of a human being opened up, the sense of nausea still persisted. He couldn’t see the children the same way the other researchers did. He couldn’t accept Elisium’s research like his mother did. He was in a place he didn’t belong in. And it was all because there was someone he wanted to protect inside Elisium’s walls.
“Yoh, Michael. Why the long face? You’re not going to puke again, are you?” A tall beefy man with a six o-clock shadow and sunken eyes approached him with a wry grin. An ID card was hanging around his neck from a dark-green lanyard that matched his socks. His wrinkled clothes and haggard appearance screamed ‘overnight in the office’. In the other man’s left hand was a cup of coffee with the name ‘Bob’ written on the cardboard holder. Bob was the man’s nickname. His real name was Jeorge Marcus Grin. He just liked being called Bob for no apparent reason.
Bob graduated from Luminae Academy two decades before Michael started his internship. Although they weren’t close, the two males had become acquainted with each other because of Michael’s mother. His senior never left his room without a cup of coffee in his hands. Although he seemed like someone who would cram all his research the night before the deadline, Jeorge Marcus Grin had the skill and the brains to do it. He was known as Elisium’s God of Cramming. Although he wasn’t as mystical as Asha Claire, he was someone who was trusted by Silas Fidi and had access to all the facilities inside Elisium.
Michael gave a man a strained smile. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around-” he waved the file in his hands, “-this.”
“Oh shi-,” Bob’s eyes widened as a curse escaped from his bearded lips. “You’re done with that are you? Pass it over to me so that I can read through it before the operation. I effin’ forgot!”
The man chugged down his coffee before dunking it in a trash bin. He quickly gathered the reports from the walls, flipped over them like a tempest and returned each clip-board to its respective place on the wall.
“Okay, Caelum! Quiz me! Or ask me anything you don’t understand!” Bob shook his hands and hopped in place like an athlete doing his warm up. “If my answer’s wrong, pass me the report with the correct answer so that I can read it again. Come on!”
Michael Caelum cleared his throat. This senior of his didn’t even give him enough time to read through the other reports. Just what in the world could he ask about?
Just when he was about to take one of the reports to read through its contents, the equipment being brought in the operating theater caught his attention.
“Then, Mister Grin-”, Michael began.
The bearded man interjected, “Drop the ‘Mister’ and call me Bob. Bee – Oh- Bee. Bob. Say it.”
“-Er, Bob.”
“Good!”
Michael pointed to the machine being set up at the operating room. “What is that?”
“You’ve been here for almost a month and no one’s explained that to you? This year’s internship mentors are too darn irresponsible.” Bob muttered like a machine gun that didn’t seem to run out of ammo. “I’ll explain, okay? Nod your head if you understand. If you don’t then raise your hand.”
For some reason, Michael felt like Bob was the reincarnation of a rapper who loved rhyming his stanzas off. Regrettably, Bob wasn’t a rapper or a lyricist. If he was, it would have been interesting.
“So, listen here. That thing is a Talent extraction machine that they just modified and they’re testing out for the first time today. If you notice, there are loads – and I mean LOADS – of new equipment downstairs...Half because of that weird power surge and half because the Great Apothecary requested for them. They’ll be using the new extraction machine today and maybe they’ll use the other one which is for Talent Implantation.
“The kids here are divided into twelve sections which are named after the twelve zodiacs. For Aries, Taurus, Sagittarius, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Cancer, Capricorn, Pisces and Gemini, the kids under these eleven groups are all Talent holders with mostly latent Talents that need to be awoken. Are you listening- ah- you’re obviously listening,” Bob chattered. “The other researchers usually group the children under the zodiac which is closest to the kid’s Talent. For example, poison-type Talents go under Scorpio and Ranged Talents that focus on attacks will be grouped under Sagittarius.”
“The kids under Aquarius are the most special. They may have talents, they may have none. But they have bodies which can be used as ‘bearers’ - or containers, whichever you want to refer to them as. They’re being trained specifically in spells and maximizing their bodies’ potential,” the senior researcher explained. “You’ll know if we have one on the operating table because they’ll be using the Talent Implantation machine and not that big hunk of metal over there.”
“Basically, people believe Talents are passed on to a different person upon the original Talent holder’s death.” Jeorge Marcus Grin took a huge breath of air before he continued. “But Silas Fidi wants to know if that’s really the case. He also wants to know how Talents work, if Talents can be contained, and if Talents can be passed on to other people using a scientific or alchemic process.”
“Ah- speaking of children...” the senior researcher massaged his hairy chin. “There’s a betting pool that the other researchers are going crazy on. They’re betting on a specific kid in the Aquarius class and how long she’ll last. Oh, wait – it was ‘how long until they get her down to the operating theater’ and not ‘how long she’ll last’. I totally messed that up. Sorry.”
Michael’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “A… betting pool...”
“She’s a strange kid, I tell you,” Bob said, his expression oddly conspiratorial. “The kid’s been smack-dab in the middle of the Aquarius class ranking for the past three years. But it turns out, she’s a hidden gem. She started shining a few weeks ago by toppling a huge guy in the top ten.”
“The kids who ranked higher than her except for subject 124 have been challenging her non-stop and she’s won half and lost half the matches. But what’s interesting is the kid lost because she wanted to lose.” The other man chattered on without signs of stopping. “The so-called teachers may not be as smart as us researchers, but they’re not dumb. It was clear to see that the kid was throwing the matches out of the window because she didn’t want to win. What kid does that, huh?”
“She’s really interesting. Last week, the guy ranked second in class Aquarius managed to make a huge scar on her face and she just stared down at him like she didn’t give a shit.” Bob laughed. “Then, I heard the poor boy went ballistic and the teachers had to separate the little girl and number 2. They filed it under the female kiddy's loss, but it definitely wasn’t.”
“What was her number again? 200? 300?” The research snapped his fingers as he looked up the ceiling in search for an answer. “Hmmm...”
“Ah! 373! It was 373 from the Aquarius class,” Bob remarked.
Michael’s heart thudded in his chest. He tried to keep his expression calm and uncaring as he probed his senior further. “Small quiet female with brown hair and black eyes?”
“Yup! That’s her. The teachers have been pairing her off with whoever’s in the top in order to bump up her rank and send her to us. But I think they’ll come up with a good excuse to send her down here sometime next week? Or the week after that? Hmm…” The more Bob spoke, the darker Michael’s expression became. But Bob didn’t seem to notice the change in Michael’s face since he continued to chatter in the same energetic tone.
“Oh, shoot. Don’t tell anyone I told you. This is supposed to be kept exclusive to senior researchers. But you’re a junior from Luminae Academy and your mom’s one of us so it should be okay if you keep it a secret? Okay? Okay, okay, okay, okay?”
“Don’t worry senior. No one will know a thing.” Michael nodded his head. A small smile graced his lips. His colorful irises hardened and grew cold. “Not even you.”
Before Jeorge Marcus Grin could react, Michael’s hand shot out and touched the researcher’s hand. Bob’s eyes turned dim and glassy. After a few seconds, Michael retracted his hand and forced a smile on his face. Bob snapped out from his daze and stared at the young male in front of him before giving out an embarrassed laugh.
“Uh… hahaha. Sorry. I got lost in thought. What were we talking about again?”
“You were explaining about the twelve zodiac groupings and the operating procedures per group,” Michael replied as he took one of the charts on the wall and flipped through it nonchalantly.
“Right! Right! So, as I was saying...” Bob talked non-stop and was completely oblivious to the seriousness that lied behind Michael’s serene gaze. The senior researcher had no idea that Michael had erased his memories and that the youth was thinking of a certain brown-haired girl whom he had to rescue as soon as possible no matter what.
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