I was stuck in a lift, surrounded by first-year dragon-girls. They looked young, but their actual ages didn’t match at all. I never paid attention to details like this – but it was obvious. Three years was all this school needed to turn children into members of society.

  A concept so disturbing, I simply refused to tackle it at all. I was in the same boat – taking the pills that would help me grow up, or rather, get this body functioning. This was a child soldier school, with bloody tournaments, fights to the death, and teachers who were willing to traumatize everyone if it meant making them ‘stronger’.

  I’ve been so focused on magic, on growing stronger, that I simply chose not to care. Now I could no longer ignore it. The lift stopped, opening the door to the first-year floor.

  Along with other of the other youngest, I walked out. The crusty smell of the station was becoming familiar to me, even if I only spent a few days here. Clenching my fists, I navigated through the mental map.

  “Are you okay?”

  My eyes snapped towards the child. She had 22 SE.

  “No.”

  I straightened out my cloak and marched towards the laboratory. Questions needed answers. Ivaldie was too strong. There was a gap between us, and I could finally describe how large it was. A gap that needed mending.

  I felt disgusted, disappointed, and spiteful. I was a reincarnator, not a five-year-old child, not some sort of prodigy. I boxed in my previous life, I studied diligently, aiming for the best spots, and I never yielded in the face of obstacles, even if there were moments of weakness.

  And with all these advantages, with all the tireless studying, experimentation, and the damn traumatic altar, I was not enough. My steps were becoming too heavy, ringing through the empty corridors. Of course it wasn’t... Ivaldie did all of that, too; she was probably a reincarnator but with a better blessing. Or maybe that’s just how dragons were.

  The feelings remained. One thought repeated itself: how could I lose so thoroughly?

  After long minutes of mental monologuing and grumbling, I reached the half-open door. It was nearly night, and yet that man was still there. Сrazed giggling and crackling of electricity were disturbing enough for me to immediately slam the door open.

  “Avennture!” I shouted, making the mad scientist jump in surprise.

  He was standing in front of a two-meter-tall glass pod. It had black sludge jumping within, being shocked at random intervals. Avennture himself held two forms I haven’t seen before.

  “You? Go to sleep, kid, I’m busy.” He twisted his fingers closer, the black sludge stuck against the glass and then undulated.

  Plaguemorph

  Species: Necroplague

  SE: 1

  Age: 4134 years old

  Affinity: Null

  Description: A sample of an ancient bioweapon created to wipe out humanity. Now it is just another resource to harvest.

  “What the hell is that thing?” The goop thrashed like crazy.

  A wide smirk settled on his smug mug as he spread his hands. “That’s a sample from the plague sector. The genetic makeup is constantly changing, adapting to whatever stimuli I subject it to. If I could get better equipment, I’d be able to create any trait I want!”

  I scratched my head, feeling a little scared. “Isn’t the plague sector the place where anything that sets foot in becomes a mutated monster?”

  “Not exactly. To become infected, you need to have direct contact or for it to evolve into a spore-spreading form. Look, look, it’s stabilizing!” Avennture’s eyes shone like diamonds as he flared more starpower.

  The goop’s surface started changing, scales covered it, and all the electric shocks were redirected towards the scales, making them shine. “Aren’t you putting the station in danger by having such a thing here?”

  The man rolled his eyes. “It’s my pet, Magnus. Varaxis let me buy one for taking care of you.” He refocused his efforts on the living super-zombie plague. “I’ve sealed its soul, made it completely obedient to me. Unless it becomes a soulless super-spreader, the station is completely safe. Muhahaha!”

  “That laughter doesn’t bring any comfort.” What was worse? The child soldiers or the super-pathogen experimentation?

  “Fine, since I’ve got the plaguemorph thanks to you, I’ll let you speak with me.” He stopped making the forms. The slime turned in on itself and started glowing. “Oh no, you don’t!” Avennture snapped his fingers and the plaguemorph reverted to black ooze again, losing all shape and motion.

  “I… I honestly feel so lost.” I’ve been pushing through, but the grating fear was getting to me.

  “Boo-hoo! I know you’re not an actual kid, so don’t play pity-games with me.”

  “What?!” I grabbed the edge of the table, my starpower shook.

  Avennture chuckled. “Yep, you’re an old soul. Thanks for the confirmation.” He sat down and leaned against the chair.

  I couldn’t utter a word. He tilted his head, pressing his hands together, and spoke calmly, “You don’t behave anything like a five-year-old child. No human child could probably survive in one of these schools anyway. I’m not stupid, Magnus.” He stood up, opened a cupboard, and looked inside it.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “So… Am I going to get executed now?” I gulped. The mind acceleration technique was working at full power. I knew where my starship was; I just had to run there, get away.

  Avennture grabbed a pair of cups and a teapot, snorting. “Let me guess, you were from a fringe low-technology planet that wasn’t aware of the larger galaxy, probably someplace where the industrialization phase already passed. You died in your early years, never getting the opportunity to study starpower, or whatever your kind called it.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I would need a second to get out of the door. About 11 minutes to get to the ship if I ran full speed.

  He put his hand towards the teapot and touched it, making the surface glow with sigils. Steam started blowing from its spout. Patiently, he poured some kind of red liquid into the cups. “I said, don’t play games with me. You have a mission, like all old souls do. I might not be an exemplar noble, but I sure know about the importance of helping those missions.”

  There were no secrets in this galaxy. None at all. “Maybe I do… Maybe the mission is something hard and impossible.”

  “Not a big surprise. But hey, at least you get another life! For the love of Source, I hope your bindings are not too severe.” He took a sip, letting out a satisfied hum.

  Quest Reminder!

  Take over the Gray Path galaxy in 20 standard years

  Quest Giver: The Betrayer

  Completion Reward: ???

  Failure Punishment: NULL

  Restrictions: NULL

  Quest Giver note: Unite the galaxy. Stop the Invasion. Kill them all.

  Time remaining: 15 years 27 days 8 hours 10 minutes

  I didn’t know my scouter could do that. I didn’t know I could even scout the quest. It was there – hanging over me, ticking every second. Maybe those were the effects of perfect memory.

  “So… The old souls are getting help for their missions?” I looked at him suspiciously.

  “Not all, only those determined important… Some are even killed if their missions are dangerous.” He showed his teeth. “I’m kidding, don’t go running away, I’m just a poor little biocrafter.”

  “Well, I can’t talk about my mission.” I shrugged.

  “So that means you have no proof of being an old soul. Maybe you’re a body hopper? A time traveler? I don’t really care. Do you want tea?” He pointed at the cup.

  Tea of Broken Hearts… What a name. I didn’t think Avennture was lying. He certainly enjoyed making me squirm, but there was no hostility in his actions. I took a sip.

  It was sweet, so sweet I could feel my brain celebrating with happy chemicals. It reminded me of flower teas, but with two more layers of taste. “That’s some good tea.”

  “I know, right. The teapot was imbued to produce it constantly. Extremely handy for stressful jobs.” Avennture glanced at the plaguemorph, taking another sip.

  I took a deep breath, and the shaking in my hands went away. “What’s the deal with old souls?”

  “I’m not the Source. How should I know?” He shrugged. “Some people remember their past lives, some come back with missions that forever change the galaxy. Demons consider them sacred. Personally, I’m not a fan of Izzshkreet.”

  “I don’t get you at all…” The pressure in the back of my skull was slowly going away.

  “You wanted to have a talk, right? I’m a licensed mind healer, and it’s my duty to take care of you. I take my duty seriously.” He nodded to himself. “You said you felt lost? Tell me about it.”

  This was absurd. A few minutes ago, I couldn’t stop raging about my impotence, and now I was more worried about the quest. I sighed. There was no point in rationalizing. “When life gives you lemons…” Grabbing a chair, I sat down. “How are dragon-tiershen made?”

  Avennture opened his eyes wide as a wide smile settled on his face. “This is the most fascinating subject of them all. Do you know about Azlatok?”

  “I’ve heard the name, yes.” It was mentioned like a curse in some of Dad’s books.

  Avennture sighed in disappointment. “He was the human who discovered tiershen’s homeworld. He planned to take over it and enslave everyone there for his one-man empire. That was before he went mad. Unlike all the other underdeveloped worlds he conquered, the Cradle had monstrously strong tiershen who could transform, including the true dragons.” He shrugged.

  “But they were clueless; it was an extermination, until a freedom-fighting organization dropped an Archive node in secret. The tiershen using the knowledge inside started an all-out war that went on for two centuries, until Azlatok’s shadows assassinated him. Point is – Azlatok was a genius of biocrafting, and he used a sample of modified necroplague to mess up the true dragon’s reproduction system permanently.”

  I was missing a lot of historical context.

  “True dragons have a genome that’s two thousand times more complex than human’s. Not only did it have genes that expressed at least nine unique transformations, it also contained biological templates for techniques of time-travelling, perfect transmutation, galaxy-wide teleportation, and Source knows what else.” That explained Ivaldie’s power...

  “How is this related to making dragon-tiershen exactly?”

  “After a long time, the dragon Lords discovered a way to clone themselves, except the cloning process was a mess. It worked, but created shitty clones that were nowhere near as strong as the original. You know, snakes.” Avennture chuckled. “And now these schools come into play. Dragon Lords wanted more representation within the Noble Federation, and they wanted to restore the dragon-kind. They created fully automated clone-rearing facilities that went through the full process of awakening. During the gestation, they were put into a simulation of their progenitor’s early life to actually awaken them and bring them closer to passing the adulthood test.”

  “An actual simulation? Like a digital world?”

  “Huh?” He tilted his head. “Haven’t heard that phrasing before. It’s a memory of their early life until the beginning of Azlatok’s invasion. Every single dragon here has lived through at least twenty years of Rame’s youth.” He scratched his head. “If you consider being in a stupid nudist tribe living. I’ve seen the memory myself and it’s something alright.”

  That explained so much. I wasn’t the outlier; I wasn’t even that special. My life on earth was probably far less suited for preparing me for combat than some incredibly ancient memories. I was just a frog surrounded by an army of toads. Bullshit.

  “So we’re on equal grounds then? Old souls and other students?”

  Avennture snorted, slapping his knee, and then he started laughing like crazy. “On equal grounds? A human on equal grounds with dragons?! You are most certainly mad.”

  “What’s so funny? I nearly reached the end of the first dungeon’s floor as number one!”

  “O, for the love of Source, shut up! That’s why I dropped out of Pentad Academy! Every single one there was a freak of nature born of Fiends and fed death and pain. And now I’m stuck with another freak.” He started coughing from outrage. “They haven’t even unlocked the first transformation! Well, the average didn’t. It increases their SE by 20%! A human has to reach at least the knight to learn a transformation technique. You are not going to be even close to competing. Old soul or not.”

  My teeth clenched as a deep, unsettling shaking reverberated through my soul. This cannot be my fate. Avennture didn’t know anything.

  “How dare you…”

  He chuckled again, looking down on me. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “How dare you!? I’ll destroy every single one of those fucks! None of them know anything good about strategy, and none of them have any good plans for becoming stronger beyond just training. Fucking stupid dragons.” I clenched my teeth. All of them were going with the flow, signing up for the courses, training. None of them put any thought into the future. Only Ivaldie did…

  Your SE has increased by 1. From 26 to 27!

  “You know what, Avennture? I’ll go now. I should sleep and get ready to become a supreme wizard. Thank you for the help.” I gulped my cup in one go and stood up.

  “Did you say a supreme wizard?!” There was a lot of alarm in his voice. “So you know about the mad wizard king Azlatok!” He rolled his eyes. “You were pretending.”

  I ignored Avennture mumblings, my eyes were blazing with new ideas and new plans. Ivaldie wasn’t just a child. She was a monster. And with monsters - you don’t play fair.