Blake studied the woman as she went about determining the state of the circuits within him.
He was holding himself in a state of readiness, in case she was to suddenly turn on him, as unlikely as that would seem at present, one could never be too careful. While Blake was wary of her proximity and touch, he also had to admit to himself that she was not unpleasant to look upon.
"Tell me about the organization again, without all of the filler," Blake said plainly.
Jean glanced up at him before returning to her work, and he traced the curve of her jaw as she adjusted her glasses minutely.
"The Chaldeas Security Organization begun as a research facility until the previous director turned it into what it has now become," Jean said distractedly, "But its prime directive is quite clear, ensure that humanity survives against the threats that seek to extinct us."
Blake listened with vague interest as he watched her, these threats, obviously mystic in nature, must have either been sleeping or unable to be witnessed from within the ordinary world, for he had heard of nothing of the sort.
"This has led to the development of a device that allows us to monitor the state of humanity within the next hundred year period, but it has recently begun to produce alarming results." Jean said, frowning, "Supposedly, if it continues its current rate, we will be in a perilous situation within several years, although we have yet to receive a confirmation on when exactly."
Blake thought about the information. The threats were obviously the scenarios that would need to be addressed at some point by the 'Masters,' and there 'Servants.' So either they would succeed in stopping these threats, or they would all die.
Blake found himself smiling.
"I usually find people aren't very pleased with the idea of being killed," Jean said dryly, glancing up at his expression. "You are very different from the others I have recruited."
Blake huffed.
"I would be surprised to find anyone like myself in this place," Blake said plainly, "How many masters have you personally recruited out of the forty-three others."
Jean looked amused at the question.
"Three, which makes you the forth," Jean said pleasantly, "Although it been several months since I last found an appropriate candidate."
Blake studied her eyes thoughtfully.
"Do you possess the ability to summon a servant?" Blake asked idly.
Jean was clearly a master of the mystic, while he himself had no training whatsoever, surely she would have been selected as a Master.
"I do, but I am not fit to be a Master in this regard." Jean said, amused, "You are the first to ask me that question."
"There are more requirements to meet then just the ability to summon then?" Blake said thoughtfully, "Gender? To much time spent utilizing mage-craft, energy contamination? You are still far too young for it to have been an age-gate of some sort."
Jean raised an eyebrow archly.
"Its neither gender, contamination or age," Jean said intrigued, watching him closely. "How old do you think I am?"
Blake was irritated that she hadn't answered the question, instead of wasting his time asking about something so innocuous, regardless he studied her for a moment before replying.
"I would place you at less than thirty years, but we are not here to boost your ego, I'll ask you not to waste my time with questions dripping in vanity." Blake said, annoyed, "You didn't answer my question."
Jean looked like she was fighting back a smile at the disgruntled response.
"You are correct, forgive my divergence," Jean said, amused, returning to her study of his circuits. "The system that was designed to convert the Master's bodies into a form that could travel to the Singularities. Those are the threats to clarify, and such travel requires compatibility with the conversion process."
"I can be converted for travel, but you cannot," Blake summarised thoughtfully, "When did you determine if I could complete the conversion process? No, a useless question, explain the tactics employed to attack these singularities."
Jean laughed quietly at his directness before responding.
"There are two methods, both of which involve summoning Servants," Jean said pleasantly, "The first is to summon before the conversion, which has a host of problems that come with it as I'm sure you can guess."
"Obviously, the conversion process we were just discussing and how it interacts with the servants." Blake said plainly, "You wouldn't have mentioned it, if it wasn't possible at all."
"It is indeed possible, but it will come with the risk of lowering the choice pool to those who can be converted." Jean confirmed, "The second is to summon post-conversion."
Jean raised an eyebrow at him archly, and he sighed.
"There are threats at the location of these 'singularities,' that require the use of servants to combat," Blake said dryly, "Stepping into a hostile environment with your weapon sheathed is a mistake you only make once."
Jean laughed.
"Correct," Jean smiled, "The risk of being attacked before you can summon a servant is very real, but it has still been determined as the better choice."
Blake simply nodded and waited for her to continue.
"Once you have arrived, and have a servant available," Jean continued, "You identify the cause, find a solution to it, usually killing the ones responsible, and then return to the facility via the conversion process, how you go about this is determined based on the individual scenario."
"Assess, identity, act," Blake murmured, "A wise approach to conflict, what are the threats found within these singularities, and how many of the masters are sent to deal with them?"
"The threats can be any number of things, from dead apostles, enemy servants, or things worse than both, all of which is speculation at best." Jean said pleasantly, "Because the failure of a single scenario could lead to the complete extinction of humanity, all of the available masters are sent to each singularity."
"If they stayed behind and those that went failed, it would have the same outcome if all went and were eliminated," Blake said thoughtfully.
They were forced to send all of their available forces every time because even a single failure meant it was all over, these singularities were becoming even more impressive by the second. Jean had returned to her seat during there conversation, but the discussion was more interesting than the results, so he had waited.
"Well?" Blake said simply.
"Your circuits are average in every way, particularly in quality and number," jean said pleasantly, "I hope you are not disappointed."
Blake found the idea ludicrous. He was much the same as he was in the old world, average power, back then he had honed it to the degree that allowed him to fell all that had come before him until he had eventually turned his sword on himself, no worthy challenges left to be found.
"I will learn your mage-craft, I will perfect it, and I will conquer everything in my path," Blake said simply, meaning every word. "To start as anything above average would be a disservice to my opponents."
"Such confidence," Jean said curiously, "but I cannot help but find myself looking forward to watching."
"Then make sure you do not look away," Blake said evenly, "Because you are the first obstacle I intend to conquer."
"Oh my," Jean said, amused. "If I hadn't spent the last two hours with you, I would almost think you were flirting."
Blake scoffed.
Blake had been left mostly to his own devices, with some small conversations disrupting the relative boredom. The landscape below change dramatically throughout there journey, including the stopover to refuel, from land to cities to water and not to a plain of seemingly unending snow.
Witnessing such a varied change in the environment in less than a day was a strange experience. Back in his old world, it would have taken months of travel for the temperature to drop significantly enough to allow for snowfall even to be a dream.
The people of this new world were indeed inventive if lacking in almost every other department.
A voice drifted over the intercom system, the same one that had spoken numerous times during the flights.
"We will soon be arriving at our final destination," The woman said pleasantly, "Please stay seated until we come to a complete stop."
Blake leaned over to look out the window but failed to see anything that would indicate a landing location, which obviously meant that it was in front of them. He didn't have the angle to see, which he found somewhat annoying. Having an aerial view of the facility would be a tactical advantage should he have to fight his way out at any point.
The plane seemingly lowered in altitude for several minutes before the ground finally rested just below them, and with a small shudder, it made contact with the runway below. Blake was unable to see anything of note until the plane started to slow to a crawl, before turning towards a large tunnel seemingly stretching through one of the numerous mountainous areas in the neverending snow.
The facility was perhaps the strangest building he had seen in this new world. It was built into the mountain, and from what he could tell seemingly shaped like a horseshoe of all things. It was a massive structure, lined with smooth white panes of stone and metal, with large tinted windows scattered across its surface.
The plane slowed to a stop within a large metal hanger, the doors of which slowly closed once they were fully enclosed in the space, and took with it much of the ambient light. The artificial lights that were scattered across the building still provided more than enough to illuminate the area.
Blake stood as the voice informed them that the flight was completed. He made his way to the front of the plane once more. He turned to keep an eye on Jean as she stood to follow from further down the plane. Jean stepped through the now open door, and he stepped out beside her, finding the temperature of the hanging much colder, but easily tolerable.
"Welcome to Chaldea," Jean said pleasantly as they descended the stairs.
Blake just nodded without interest. A hanger wasn't precisely something of note, and Jean led him across the large room towards a large metal door.
"You mentioned a meeting with the leaders of your organization?" Blake said plainly.
"Yes," Jean said pleasantly, "The new director is aware of our arrival, we will be meeting with them to determine how much training will be required to move you into the active pool of Masters."
Blake just hummed in agreement, judging by every other force he had researched in this world, they would have there own rules and regulations, things he would have to follow along with if he wanted to have continued access to the instruction of mage-craft.
Blake was already confident it would be an incredible test of his patience, but regaining his former power was far more critical than the nonsensical restrictions they were likely to shackle him with.
Jean led him through a series of tall and surprisingly open hallways, which to Blake seemed like an incredible waste of the space they had available, surely it could be used for more practical purposes? He would admit, the rushing wind and snow that tore unendingly past the large clear windows were an impressive sight that he could appreciate.
There were others moving around the facility, but none made any move to engage Jean, and he had no reason to speak with any of them, a short girl with pink hair stepped around a hallway and vanished from sight.
Pink hair? Ludicrous.
They finally stopped in front of a set of metal doors, not unlike the hundreds of others they had already passed, and they opened a moment later to admit them. The room was simple, a long black table lined with chairs, a podium at one side of the room next to a white sheet that descended from the roof, and nobody inside.
"The director will be here momentarily," Jean said pleasantly, "Please take a seat."
Jean took one herself. He took another, leaving a gap between them to give himself an extra second to move should the meeting descend into violence. Jean gave him an amused glanced when he didn't sit next to her, and he gave her a dry look.
It was only moments later that the doors opened once more, and a short woman stepped inside, followed by a taller man with long wild hair, covered by a top hat. White hair? On someone who couldn't be more than twenty at best, this place was ridiculous.
"I am Olga Marie Animusphere," 'Olga' said briskly, making her way to the podium before spinning on her heel to face them. "I am the acting director of Chaldea."
Blake simply studied her, besides the hair she seemed as relatively normal as the rest of those he had seen so far, he didn't drop his guard, however, because Jean had looked rather mundane as well and look how that had turned out. Blake sensed no commanding presence from her; however, the words held no weight to them, Jean and the other man in the room seemed far more dangerous.
"You have been chosen as a candidate because of the rare talent you possess," Olga said imperiously, "By talent, I am referring to the potential to complete a spiritron dive."
Blake wondered why she was retreading the ground that had already been covered by the recruiter, how inefficient.
"You possess magical circuits-" Olga said pointedly before he cut her off.
"I am aware of all this already, please get to the point," Blake said, annoyed. "I do not have the patience to sit around and listen to things that Jean has already covered in far more depth."
The man with the wild hair coughed into his hand, in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. Olga, on the other hand, looked stunned for a moment before her face twisted angrily.
"While you may possess a special talent," Olga gritted out, "You are not a special person, you are nothing more than a tool to be used to preserve humanity."
Blake almost sighed.
"If you do not like what I have to say," Olga practically hissed, "You can leave the facility immediately."
"No, I have a prior agreement in place that I intend to see fulfilled," Blake said simply.
"Then you should listen-" Olga argued before he cut her off again.
"I am to perform as a master in your organization. I will be sent to the singularities along with the other forty masters to eliminate the threats found there before returning." Blake listened, cooly, "Now, please move on."
Olga seemingly floundered for a moment before she blew a forceful breath out of her nose.
"Very well," Olga hissed again, "You will attend daily briefings until you are capable of summoning on-site and educated on the possible threats and the protocols to follow when dealing with them, these are mandatory, do you understand?"
"Obviously," Blake said simply, "Is that all?"
"Yes." Olga gritted out. "That is all."
Blake stood from his chair and looked down at Jean expectantly, whose face was mixture disbelief and amusement as she rose from her own seat, the man with the wild hair who still hadn't been introducing had a glint of something in his eyes that Blake couldn't be bothered identifying.
"I suppose the introduction is concluded," Jean said pleasantly, "In record time no less, let us continue the tour of the facility."
Blake followed her out of the room, ignoring the glare from the director as he crossed the room.
"I suppose that put the brief in the briefing, so to speak." The man with the wild hair said amused.
"Leff," Olga complained, "Shut up."
The 'tour' of the facility had been cut down, on his request only to view the essential locations. In turn, Jean had led him to the cafeteria, the room in which his daily 'education' was to take place, the rooms filled with exercise equipment colloquially referred to as a 'gym,' which he had every intention of spending time in daily.
The only other rooms of note were the room he had been assigned to sleep within, Jean's room, and the training room she intended to use for his own instruction, which happened to be large enough to facilitate his personal 'martial arts' education.
"I find myself growing weary, I will be retiring for the day," Blake informed her once they had finished the tour. "Once the summoning instruction finishes, I will make my way to the training room."
"I will familiarise myself once more with the master's schedules, but If I cannot attend due to any obligations, I will inform you prior to the session." Jean said pleasantly, "I will be designing a streamlined instruction in the reinforcement technique, the 'speed and strength' technique which you have indicated a desire to learn, but we can discuss further instruction in more varied mage-craft during the sessions."
Blake found himself growing to enjoy the woman's company. She was straightforward and brilliant, but the thing that impressed him most of all was her ability to deliver information in a concise way that hit all the notes he had an interest in, rarely straying too far from the topic.
It was something he missed from his old world. Everybody here wanted to write a novel about their feelings while occasionally touching on the crucial points, that kind of thing would never have gone over well back then, such discussion was kept for those who you had developed a level of trust and comradery. Even after twenty years of being exposed to it daily had done nothing to change his mind.
"Very well, thank you for your assistance today, it was," Blake groped around for an appropriated word for a moment, "Enjoyable."
"Enjoyable? Oh, you are definitely flirting now," Jean said, amused. "You are most welcome, Blake."
"Silly woman," Blake said dryly. "I will take my leave now."
Jean's laughter followed him as he left the hallway.