"Greetings. I'm Rex, from Shipwreck Village. Forgive my ignorance—I've never heard your names. Didn't expect Turquoise Ring held so many ability users. I don't understand this level well, but mutual hostility seems unwise given our circumstances?"

  The black-haired youth appeared between them instantly. Amon and Krobakla stared, surprised.

  Moments passed. Amon nodded. "Strong. At that speed, I couldn't touch you. Actually, not knowing us is normal. Before this, my flame was a candle—lighting cigarettes, nothing more. Nothing like now. Others share similar experiences. Shipwreck Village is distant. Famous for mycelium. Welcome, Brother Lin."

  The other snorted coldly. "Finally, something human."

  Krobakla turned back, seated himself. His expression was severe. Careful observation revealed faint cold aura perpetually surrounding his form.

  Sixteen became nineteen. Rex burned with curiosity. He'd deliberately displayed his ability to facilitate integration.

  Nord whispered: "Mother of heaven, grandmother of earth. Little monsters. Not one normal human. Rex, you held out on me. Why didn't you mention such techniques earlier? Without Mana and me, you'd have arrived before the storm, yes?"

  "Where is your mind? What difference between before or after the storm? Besides, I can only maintain supernormal speed briefly. Without your guidance, I'd still be running."

  Mana remained silent, troubled. Rex looked at her. "Mana? Analyzed the pirates' purpose? Traveling to the Ninth Domain just to filter Turquoise Ring for... us? This I cannot comprehend."

  The blonde shook her head. "Insufficient information. No concrete analysis possible. However, life-or-death in harsh environments does strengthen abilities. This elimination mechanism is excessively brutal. Especially ability users who witnessed family slaughter—their powers develop toward high-offense directions. I have... premonitions. Unclear. Dangerous."

  "Look. More arrivals." Amon called.

  Nord craned his neck. Recognizing the newcomer, he grimaced as if swallowing flies. "Red-haired puppy! Still alive? Swallowed enough sand during the storm? Walk carefully. Fall, and you'll become flatbread."

  Roaring from below: "Blue-eyed toad! I'm thriving. Shut your filthy mouth."

  The redhead flung a small mass of blurry gas. Rex moved instantly, seizing Nord, pulling him aside. Minor detonation behind them—compressed air explosion.

  "Eh? Red-haired puppy grew stronger! No wonder the arrogance."

  Rex raised an eyebrow. On Turquoise Ring, he'd noted the redhead's heavy fists, but nothing exceptional. Recent acquisition, then. This one robbed Peacock-Face, shattered his leg. Such viciousness at young age. Without guaranteed lethal advantage, best not provoke.

  The redhead assessed the rock formation, equally surprised. Recognizing dangerous company, he found clean stone and rested separately.

  Not long after, shadows crossed the sky. A massive vessel descended from beyond the rift, hovering above. Unique sirens sounded. Dozens of hoverbikes ejected. Pirates arrived.

  The lead pirate's face was stone, clearly displeased. "Only twenty brats? Turquoise Ring truly disappoints. Thirty-four hours remain. What yield?"

  The subordinate straightened, announcing loudly: "Listen carefully. We'll remove your ankle electronics. Don't imagine your trivial abilities challenge us. Having survived three hundred thousand, accept fate's arrangement. Board your designated vessel. Recover strength quickly. The strong deserve privilege."

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  Twenty gathered. When the electronics released—profound relief. Even without warnings, none would act rashly.

  Survivors of continuous tribulation were either prematurely mature, cunning beyond measure, or consumed by vengeance, enduring humiliation for opportunity. Rex possessed elements of all. His mentality matched any here. A clever operator who calculated before acting, never accepting loss. He hated Red Storm deeply, but revealed nothing.

  They boarded bikes, transported to a medium vessel—capacity for hundreds easily. Simple sterilization procedures. Then into vast holds.

  First time inside a starship. Everything fascinated him. Facilities appeared worn, but hundreds of times superior to tin-can escape pods.

  Aboard pirate spoke coldly: "Individual quarters. Food and water inside. Restricted movement. Any suspicious activity results in immediate termination. Enter sequentially."

  Twenty imprisoned. Despite Nord's reluctance to separate from Mana, crackling shock-lances enforced compliance.

  The room contained a hard metal bunk, toilet, faucet. Rex examined the junk food on the bed—much expired.

  Eating beat starvation. He drank greedily from the faucet, tore open packaging, devoured contents. Long fasting demanded caution. Soon exhaustion claimed him. He collapsed, asleep.

  Time blurred. Distant sounds penetrated. Body ached. Eyes opened. During high alert, he'd ignored discomfort. Now relaxed, accumulated fatigue overwhelmed him. He couldn't move a finger.

  "Attention. Vessel departing. Attention. Vessel departing. Temporary discomfort expected. Please remain calm. Adaptation within thirty minutes. Repeating..."

  Gentle tones, repetitive. Hijacked civilian transport, apparently. Interstellar travel for civilians. Short distances used stargates—direct transmission, convenient, pirate-avoidant. Expensive, but preferred. Rex had only heard rumors. Never seen actual infrastructure.

  Footsteps outside. Tension returned. He rose, approached the door.

  Voices: "Brother, light? Turquoise Ring mycelium smokes well. Truly refreshing. Say, what's the Chieftain thinking? Ninth Domain, grabbing kids, rushing back and forth. I haven't tasted women in ages. Return, I'll battle those wenches three hundred rounds."

  "Damn. Speaking of the Chieftain? Tired of living? Actually, I don't understand either. Good business abandoned, coming to this bird-shitting wasteland. Three hundred thirty thousand captured, two hundred three remain. One per fourteen hundred. Uncanny. Above says these brats are dangerous. Treat carefully. Chieftain's temper seems poor lately. Caution advised."

  Two pirates muttered. Overhearing was accidental—room position, plus Rex's enhanced hearing. Every word captured.

  So. Pirates fear too. Their leader possesses terrifying authority. Exceptionally powerful. Exceptionally brutal. Ten-day deadline reached, apparently. Otherwise departure wouldn't occur. Two hundred three survivors from three hundred thirty thousand lives. So small. In one month, they became past tense. Turquoise Ring life wasn't happiness—some lacked even warmth and food. But better broken life than good death. And they died so horribly.

  Five days blurred. Exhaustion dominated—mostly sleeping. Nightmares awakened him each time. Other youths likely shared this.

  Day seven brought change. The door opened slowly. An oxygen-masked elder entered, three pirates accompanying. Their eyes held winter—regarding slaughter-bound livestock. Two shock-lances pressed against his nose. Rex froze.

  The elder wheezed: "Good. Now injecting catalyst agent. Seventy-three point five percent probability of becoming powerful warriors. We'll provide advanced cultivation methods. You'll advance human evolutionary history. Thank the Chieftain's generosity. Lucky ones."

  Before Rex processed, neck pain struck. Arm-thick specialized injector brutally pumped yellow fluid into his veins. Dizziness followed.

  "Progress acceptable. Another complete. Continue this method. I have important research. No further demonstrations. These catalyst agents are extraordinarily precious. Work efficiently. No mistakes."

  "Yes, subordinates will exercise caution." The three pirates responded in unison.

  The elder nodded, satisfied. Departed, leaving an ancient book—paper pages, mold scent, excavated from some corner. Extremely cheap.

  Rex's body burned and froze alternately. Terrible sensation. Heart raced, then seemed to stop. Then tearing pain. His entire body appeared to ignite.

  No. This won't do. Madness approaches. Medical leaves. Yes, medical leaves.

  Grasping final hope, he retrieved slightly curled emerald leaves. Consumed all. Coolness spread. Tight consciousness relaxed. Then total blackout.

  Actually, even without medical leaves, deep coma offered substantial survival probability. Yet differences existed. The catalyst required fifteen minutes to activate fully.