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A hand reached towards him. White and smooth, like an egg, the monster's flesh was what stuck in Quequeq's memories more than anything else. The eyes, sparkling like flawless diamonds, the teeth, sharp and crooked, the maw, gaping wide and filled with darkness; even the screams in the distance were less vivid than the whiteness of the monster's skin, seeming flawless despite being covered in scars.

Zahard, I hate white, a part Quequeq that knew he was dreaming thought as the hand wrapped around his leg.

Quequeq bolted upright, chest heaving. He took several deep breaths as his hand went to his artificial leg. It hurt whenever he dreamed about losing the original. He grit his teeth and pushed himself upright, the pain spiking before fading to a dull throb. Putting it to use seemed to remind the leg that it was artificial.

First day of training. Quequeq thought as he staggered over to his dresser. He started pulling out the one-size-fits-all clothing Evankell's floor had provided, tugging them on through semi-consciousness muscle memory. I need to be at my best. I've got to start impressing the instructors starting day one. He smacked his face as he stepped out the door before heading towards the cafeteria. Quequeq paused to fiddle with his pants. He never liked wearing clothes that he didn't own; he feared the unfamiliar clothing somehow getting caught in a gap between his organic and mechanical body. It still bothered him, even though the leg was so seamlessly attached that he might have been born with the silvery limb.

"Were you always this slow, or does the leg weigh you down?" Quequeq whirled around, a scathing retort at the ready. A girl stood behind him, wrapped in an odd cloak, glaring at him with heterochromatic eyes, one aquamarine, the other vermillion.

"Something to say?" she asked coldly. Goosebumps sprung up all over Quequeq's arms, and his phantom leg began to throb. This girl was dangerous.

"No." He said, and stepped aside. The girl swept by, her stride exhuming dismissal. Quequeq punched the wall hard enough to make his knuckles throb. He hated backing down. He'd have been deader than week-old roadkill if he hadn't, but it still made him seethe.

"That was good call." Quequeq turned to look at Corvo, was watching the girl's back. "Something feels…off about her. I would bet good money that she's in the same weight class as Ashrya, too."

"Yeah, I picked up on that, too. Putting that aside, what the fuck are you wearing?" Quequeq asked. He could feel the other man's scowl right through his mask. Corvo was still wearing his creepy mask, but without his coat, he'd had to replace his hood with a towel wrapped around his head.

"It feels weird to wear it without the hood." Corvo muttered, tugging at the towel.

Before he could ask why Corvo didn't just take the mask off, Quequeq remembered that he didn't have his scarf. His hand shot to his neck fast enough that it made Corvo jump. Queuqueq's scowl returned, and resumed stalking down the hall. I hate white, anyway.

Several minutes later, Quequeq was trying to subtly watch Corvo eat, waiting for him to take his mask off, when the final member of their happy trio arrived.

"Mornin'." Ashrya said, staggering over to their table. Despite her face looking like she'd just crawled out of a grave, her hair was in almost perfect order, and one hand seemed to be almost unconsciously pawing the rest into decency. It was an impressive feat of grooming.

Ashrya yawned hugely and face planted next to her cereal bowl. "I can't believe they're actually making us get up this early." She mumbled into the table.

"Aww, is the pampered little princess sleepy? Just go back to sleep and arrive late, I'm sure your title will give you some leeway." Quequeq said, smirking. The girl's head snapped up, eyes blazing.

"You just focus on your test, asshole. I'm sure that if you try hard enough, you'll be able to hit the broad side of a barn by the end of the first month." the former Princess shot back. Quequeq's grip tightened, nearly bending his spoon half. His breath hissed through his teeth as he held his temper in check. Crest or no crest, Ashrya was far, far stronger than he was. While getting through the administrator's barrier hadn't been a problem for him and Corvo, for Ashrya it might as well not have existed. A little girl's superior power had been rubbed in his face twice in one day, no, one morning. What a spectacular first day this was turning out to be.

Quequeq watched Ashrya out of the corner of his eye as he stared, dumbfounded, at Corvo's suddenly empty plate. She was a Zahard's Princess from the Ha Family. Born from Rankers, raised by Rankers, destined to be a Ranker. She should be just as bad as a Ranker: selfish, arrogant, and dismissive of the lives of the weaker. Ashrya…was different. She didn't act that differently from the peasant girls he'd grown up with. While she outclassed his female acquaintances in looks and strength, Ashrya fussed over her appearance and complained about waking up early like any other young woman. Quequeq wondered if giving up her title had humbled her, or if she'd always been this way. Almost…normal.

Ashrya's laughter suddenly stopped, and her head slammed against the table again.

"What's the matter, Lady Lump?" Quequeq asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I just remembered that I'm going to be training alongside those idiots for the next two months." Ashrya growled, shooting a glare at Beul and Pedwer. "Between the two of them, I wonder if enough Regulars will survive to fill the Fisherman quota."

"Well, I'm sure you'll do fine." Corvo said, adjusting his towel-hood. "Anything they can do, I'm betting you can do better. Besides, you won't be going it alone; Damascus is going to be training with you too, remember?"

Ashrya let out a loud moan, and Quequeq barely kept himself from snickering.

"I'd like to start with making sure the lot of you understand one simple fact: I hate you all, and I'm going to stand to the side and laugh while you die screaming if you screw up." Ranini said. Her brilliant interpersonal skills were in full force. "Under no circumstances are you to come crying to me. If you do, then you'll still have to deal with your problem on you own, but this time with fewer limbs. Bother Ned if you need to beg for mercy." She waved at the man beside her, calmly cleaning a sniper rifle. He wore a simple vest over a red shirt, sunglasses, and hat with the left side of the rim folded upright.

"G'day, ladies, gents." he said, tipping his hat briefly. "Pleased to meet you." He seemed nice enough, but Quequeq wouldn't trust him to really get him out of danger. Ranini and her power abuses were what he expected from a Ranker, although Quequeq suspected that she'd always been this caustic. At least she wasn't Yu Han Sung.

"The first thing on our schedule is to teach you how to form a contract with the Guardian. We'll get to that in a bit. Once that's done, you'll be taking your first test as Spearbearers to prove you're worth our time." Ranini said. "See those canyons?" She waved at the vast network of cracks in the earth spread out behind her. "They're infested with a nasty weed called a Giga Baba. Think of a Venus flytrap, except a lot less picky and a lot less patient. Your task will be to destroy the nerve cluster at the back of its mouth, which is pretty much the only way to kill them."

"One little twist, just to make thing interesting." Ned added, satisfied with his rifle's condition for the moment. "See, I believe that professionals must have standards. Being efficient, that's one of the most important standards to have." He pick up his rifle and fired without looking away from the Regulars. A wooden, rattling cry echoed through the canyons. "Once you've finished making a contract, you'll have three hours to bag yourself a Baba. Otherwise, you fail." He smiled at the Regular's cries of dismay. "Good hunting."

Quequeq stalked through one of the canyons, harpoon in hand. He was an hour into his task with no sign of his quarry. How could a weed be so hard to find? Even with his foot clanking loudly against the stone, none of the "less patient" plants had shown so much as a leaf. Plant couldn't hear, but flytraps could feel vibrations or something, right?

Apparently not this kind. Quequeq grumbled internally. He kicked a boulder with his false leg, the blow creating a solid thonk. The noise echoed through the canyons, filling the silence.

It was loud enough the Quequeq almost missed a vaguely wooden creaking.

Quequeq went still. He slowly turned his head, taking in the top of the canyons, the walls, and the cracks and crags along the bottom. Nothing. Quequeq slowly started forward, only stepping with his left leg using extreme care. He walked towards the end of the canyon, where it branched. Quequeq stayed near the center of the canyon, keeping the towering gray walls as far from him as possible, head turning back and forth constantly. Silence filled the empty space, only broken by the slight clank of his metal leg. His eyes flicked, up, down, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. He saw only stillness.

Did I just imagine it? Quequeq thought. He reached the end of the canyon, and leaned forward to peek around the corners.

The canyons were empty. The left sharply turned forward again, while the right curved gently back the way Quequeq had come. He frowned, and was about to step out when the screaming started. It was joined by the creaking noise as he spun to the right. A man, tall, skinny, with a head like a bowling pin, charged around the bend, apparently of the school of thought that believed breaking the sound barrier was done with one's lungs. An enormous shape slammed into the canyon floor just behind him, hard enough to make Quequeq stagger. If anything, it looked like an enormous nut, with long, interlocking fangs. The monster ripped itself out of the ground, rising into the air on the end of a long, flexible neck. The nut gaped open, emitting a immense, rattling roar, as the mass of greenery and thick roots creaked and crashed around the corner. As the mouth opened, Quequeq saw a glowing mass of at the back of it, twitching every time the immense plant moved.

Quequeq grinned, hefting his harpoon. Come to papa, he thought, his arm coming back.

"Help! Hurry, kill it!" the man screamed, risking a look back. Quequeq took aim at the nerve cluster, the plant reared back—

A gaping maw, filled with jagged teeth, endless darkness behind them, rushed towards him. His leg enter the darkness, and the jaws closed. He screamed, flesh slashed by the twisted teeth, muscle tore, bone twisted and snapped. The maw gapped wide again—

—and slammed into the canyon floor, the plant's fangs snapping closed around the skinny man. The screaming stopped.

"Fuck." Queuqueq said weakly. The strength went out of his arm, his leg screamed with phantom agony. The Giga Baba ripped it head free, chunks of stone falling to the ground.

"Fuck." The plant flipped its head back, and its stem contorted in a manner that resembled swallowing.

"Fuck." The Giga Baba's head turned back to Quequeq. "No. No, no, no." He said. Sweat broke out across his body as his spear came up. "Not me. Not today." The maw opened, revealing the nerve cluster—

the darkness rushed towards him—

—he threw the harpoon. The length of wood and metal soared through the air, propelled by Quequeq's shinsoo-strengthened throw, to sink deep into the glowing cluster. The Giga Baba twitched, and the glow went out. The plant's momentum carried it forward, it fangs scarping by and leaving his covering in gashes.

"…Ssssshit!" Quequeq hissed squeezing his wounds. They didn't look lethal, but they were bad enough to hurt hinder his performance. Quequeq's heart was filled with self-loathing as he realized that he was glad that he was friends with Wrasse.

"Blue bastard better keep the licking to a bare minimum." he growled, staggering upright and walking to the back of the Giga Baba's mouth. He tore his harpoon free, and shoved it into his coffin.

Ned counted the time they took leading back as part of their three hours, so Quequeq walked as quickly as he could. He still had plenty of time, but he just want this day to be done.

As he walked, his mind turned to old memories, shaken loose by the Giga Baba. Fragments containing teeth, blood, and pain.

"I'll kill you!" Quequeq screamed at the terrible white monster. He clutched at the ruined stump of his left leg, torn away just above the knee. He focused on his anger, pushing away the pain and the terror. "I swear I'll kill you! Just you wait!"

"You? You will kill me, little fishslayer?" the monster said, bringing Quequeq's head up to its eye. No iris, no pupil, but Quequeq knew it was far from blind. The monster laughed, a surprisingly musical sound. "You will kill me?"

"If its the last thing I ever do! I will! I swear on my life, on every life you took from me!" Quequeq cried. A part of him knew that it was just empty bravado. What could he possibly do to this…thing? It was a monster, a living god compared to him. The rest of him had stopped caring. It was going to kill him, anyway.

"Such spirit. Such rage. It almost makes me think you can do it." The monster said, tilting its head. "A worm like you. You make me curious. How far will you be able to go?" The monster's massive fingers released his right leg. Quequeq was to surprised to cry out before he hit the ground, knocking the wind out of him entirely.

"Very well. I will let you get away, this day." The monster's white form tripled and blurred above. "Show me how much bite you have in you, little fisherman. Seek me out at the top of the Tower, where all things one desires can be found. My sobriquet, the name by which you shall search for me, is the White Whale. Let us see how high you can climb, little fishslayer."