Chapter 1

Reed could already tell that the captain in charge of training the new recruits was to be despised. A pompous man, he had a massive beer belly without the muscle to match. Reed could tell by the balance of his feet that this man was unfit for combat, and had probably never even faced anything more threatening than a Creeper.

In a town such as Adigiar, the Town Guard was largely ceremonial. The presence of the legendary Huntress Kiwidinek Kadir, who resided in a cabin in the nearby village of Tani, left the townspeople confident that they were safe from Grimm attack. This confidence in turn served to detract the creatures of darkness, who were attracted to fear. As such, the Town Guard mostly dealt with Creepers and the occasional juvenile Beowolf drawn to petty squabbles.

Recruits of the Town Guard were mostly those who hadn't yet figured out what they wanted to do in life. After a year or two most would grow tired of the militaristic life-style and would suddenly discover a passion, any passion, that got them out.

This left those without passion or ability to become senior members of the guard.

After an hour of listening to the man talk, Reed decided that he was also lacking in anything resembling intellect. He would repeat sentences, often leaving out words that made the sentences nonsensical, and explain the most basic concepts in lectures reaching up to twenty minutes in length. It took him that long to explain that Grimm were attracted to negative emotions, a concept taught to children in kindergarten.

Reed was standing with the other new recruits, twenty-five strong in five rows of five, in front of the stage the Captain strutted across. He recognized many of the less capable students from his high school class. Petty delinquents for the most part, one or two people who had taken to alcohol at too young of an age. And yet, even those whose intelligence he knew to be lacking were absolutely twitching with impatience at the Captain's speech.

Several people had tried to raise their hands or speak up in an attempt to move the speech along. Each had been met with a brisk comment along the lines of, "I have experience! What do you lack? Experience! You need experience, therefore learn from my experience so you can get experience!"

Reed, for his part, just waited for the nightmare to end. Hopefully when they got to drills he could display his competence and be transferred to a squad where he would actually learn something. Until then, he settled for imagining how easy "Captain Experience" would be to trip, pin, or flip with both hands tied behind Reed's back.

He was standing in the second to last row, and a tap on his shoulder brought his attention to the person standing directly behind him.

He turned and regarded the girl. She had neon-blue hair that hung just above her shoulders and wore a brown leather jacket, the sleeves rolled up, over a dark blue tank top. Her pants were worn black leather with what seemed an excessive amount of loops and clips, which were tucked into steel-toed leather boots.

Reed could feel his eyebrow lifting in surprise. It couldn't be more obvious that this girl didn't belong here. She stood with confidence, hands on her hips, and a look in her eyes that said when she talked, she expected people to listen. Compared to the slumped, slack-jawed idiots around them she stood out like a crow among sparrows.

The girl raised an eyebrow to match his own. "What the hell is with that look? You some kinda damn pervert or something, looking me up and down like that?"

Before Reed could respond to defend himself, she continued, "Whatever, get as much of an eyeful as you want. Just tell me if this is where the forge apprentices are meeting."

"No," Reed said in a hard voice, "The forge is in the basement. And I'm not…"

"Thanks," she said, cutting him off. She then turned to the stage and shouted, "Excuse me, Captain Dumbass? I seem to have wandered into the wrong room, so if you'll excuse me I will leave these poor miserable fools to your exhausting imbecilic speech and be on me way."

Reed couldn't help smiling at the flabbergasted look on the Captain's face as she sauntered from the room.

After much blustering, in which the Captain attempted in vain to regain respect from his recruits he had never had, he led them down the hall to the locker room. There they were each given a locker, and two of each 'one-size-fits-all' uniforms and training clothes. They were then told to change immediately into the latter, as their first spear lesson would happen in ten minutes.

Reed grinned in anticipation. Gun-spears were standard issue in the Town Guard, a weapon with a split spear head at the end of a long staff, with the barrel of a gun nestled snuggly between the split forward prongs.

The training outfit was slightly too large on Reed's frame of lean muscle, but cinches at the waist of the pants made sure they didn't fall off. By tucking the shirt into the waistband he ensured that the shirt wouldn't fly up around his head if he moved too quickly. After a couple of quick stance changes and jumps Reed was satisfied he could move easily enough.

After the allotted ten minutes were up Captain Dumbass, for the life of him Reed could not remember his actual name, returned to lead the recruits to the practice field. He fell into the back of the line while the Captain led the way, giving them another lecture on experience, how he had it and they didn't, blah blah blah.

They walked out a set of double glass doors onto a field, where twenty-four practice dummies were set up in a line. They were made of wooden cross pieces, with burlap sacks of straw for misshapen heads and bodies. Wooden practice spears leaned against their left arms.

For all the Captain's talk of experience, a younger officer was standing in front of the dummies. He was a bulky Faunus, the species of animal people that made up roughly a third of the city's population. The large, square, herbivorous teeth he flashed at them led Reed to believe he was a hippo Faunus. He held the heavy practice spear negligently in one hand, gripped near the end and yet perfectly level. Reed guessed he was more accustomed to wielding an over-sized bludgeoning weapon than a spear, but still he appeared much more adept than Reed would have expected from a member of the Town Guard.

"My name is Corporal Tamus," he said, in a voice so loud Reed was forcefully reminded of an avalanche of boulders plowing through a junkyard composed entirely of glass. "I was recently promoted from last year's group of recruits, and I've been tasked with teaching you all the basics of spear work. As long as you all try your best we will get along swimmingly."

He narrowed his eyes at the group of delinquents, who were making whispered jokes about the Faunus's unusual teeth. Tamus took one large stride, planting his front foot firmly on the ground and swinging the spear up and over his head. It crashed with a resound crack into the dirt between two of the offenders, raising a cloud of dust and a chorus of surprised yells, squeals really, from the rowdy group.

"If you don't," he resumed in his loud voice, as if nothing had happened, "Punishment will be swift, painful, and likely leave bruises through what pitiful Aura you newbies are capable of. Now everyone approach the dummy across from you and retrieve a spear. We will begin with the basic stance used for thrusting."

Most of the delinquents, obviously scared that the massive Corporal wouldn't aim for the ground next time, scurried to their dummies and snatched up their spears. Reed strode over to his, picked up the wooden pole, and weighed it in his hand.

Testing its balance, Reed grimaced at the obviously shoddy workmanship of the training tool. This was something to train absolute beginners in how to tell one end of a spear from another. It would be a pain to wield as efficiently as a perfectly balanced staff. Still, Reed decided he could make do.

Once the recruits stood in their original line, out of striking distance of the dummy, Tamus took his position in front of them. He set himself into a wide stance, left foot slightly extended in front, and hands gripped equidistantly from the center of the spear.

"Try your best to emulate this stance. I will give you a minute to look, then move among you correcting your form."

Reed took the stance, balanced evenly on the balls of his feet, spear in the ready position. Tamus moved down the line, correcting footwork and grip alike. His attention to footwork further proved himself in Reed's eyes, too many people took the power behind proper balance for granted.

The massive Corporal didn't even pause when he came to Reed, simply nodding in his direction and continuing on. After an extended period with the delinquents, one of which kept dropping his spear from nerves, he returned to his position facing the group.

"All right," he bellowed, "Now the basic thrust is a horizontal jab. Try not to let the tip dip up or down, imagine you are aiming for a Beowolf's naval. Take a big breath in, settle into your stance, and breathe out as you stab forward. Proper breathing will add as much power to your blows as any number of hours in the gym."

One of the delinquents snickered and said, "Why should I think about breathing? I just have to hit the target right?"

The poor guy quelled under the look Corporal Tamus leveled at him. Tamus walked over to the wall of the practice yard.

"This is what our know-it-all friend would have you do," Tamus said.

Taking a comically big breath he puffed up his cheeks and hit the wall with a thrust from his spear. It pinged harmlessly off the wall with a sharp retort of wood on stone.

"Now, this is what I am humbly asking you attempt, in an effort to make it so you will actually stand a chance against even the weakest creatures of Grimm."

The corporal took a long, measured breathe in, and explosively expelled it. The spear rocketed forward in a perfect thrust. A small explosion detonated, shards of rock flying from the point of impact. In Tamus's hands were the shattered remains of the practice spear, in front of him a hemisphere of rock had disappeared from the solid stone wall.

Reed smiled widely at the dumbfounded expressions on the delinquents' faces. He had written them off too quickly. They were excellent comic relief.

Tossing the broken haft of the spear to the ground, Tamus walked back to the recruits in strong, measured strides. "Now, begin practicing. And don't forget to breath."

This time the Corporal started with the delinquents. Despite his scolding he corrected them with kind words and exaggeratedly slow demonstrations. The other recruits began practicing as he made his way down the line.

Reed was perfectly bored out of his mind. Years of training put him well beyond the menial exercise. Again the Corporal passed him without comment, and upon reaching the end of the line returned to the front of the group.

"Alright, this is the absolute foundation of spear work, so we will practice it for the rest of the day. Approach your dummy and get a feel for what it's like to hit an actual object. If you still doubt my statement about breathing, try hitting it with and without proper breathing. I guarantee you will notice a significant difference, even at your current level."

The line of recruits approached the dummies, holding the practice spears with varying levels of confidence.

Reed decided it was time to showcase that he didn't belong with the beginners. He started bouncing on the balls of his feet, loosening up his muscles. He decided on a variation of the thrust that would give it enough power to knock the dummy clean off its stand. A simple twirl around and behind his back would do the trick.

During his preparation Reed sensed Captain Dumbass approach and stop directly behind him. Not particularly caring whether the rotund officer was present for his exposition or not, he started the twirl, spear wrapping smoothly around his back as it gained momentum.

Instinct warned Reed that a blow was approaching the nape of his neck. Rather than thrust the spear forward he tilted the tip down, the butt of the spear raising behind his neck and catching the menacing object with a sharp retort of wood on wood. Reed turned his head to see Captain Dumbass, eyes bulging in rage, clutching a wooden baton in swollen fingers.

"RECRUIT!" he bellowed, rage making his voice crack pathetically. "Listen to your instructor! You don't have the experience to improvise your own techniques! Until you have experience, listen to those that have experience and practice the drills we assign!"

Reed was getting really tired of the word 'experience'. Several of the other recruits were casting curious gazes in his direction, having missed the clash and wondering why the asinine man was yelling at Reed. Rather than respond to the man whose eyes were starting to resemble those of a frog Faunus, he turned to meet the gaze of Corporal Tamus.

There was a gleam of interest in the massive man's eyes, but he said "Listen to your commanding officer, boy. It never hurts to review the basics."

Reed sighed, but nodded. He turned his back on the fuming Captain and settled into a boring afternoon of thrusting into the dummy again and again. And again.

After several hours of spear training the new recruits were told to change into their uniforms and report to classroom four on the first floor.

"You will be instructed in what it means to be a part of the Town Guard," said Captain Dumbass, addressing them from the training grounds after Corporal Tamus had excused himself. "You are now part of a proud tradition, and that tradition dictates I give you my experience!"

Reed was happy just to be done with the repetitive drills, but many of the other recruits looked like they were exhausted from the simple exercise. Complaints were swapped about sore arms, sore feet, and sore hands. They had obviously never trained a day in their life.

He entered the locker room ahead of the lagging group of weary recruits, and was already changed and out the door before they had opened their locker. He strode quickly down the hall, a bleak affair of dark stone with doors lining both sides, until he found classroom four.

It was a lecture style classroom, with ascending rows of seat facing an old fashioned blackboard. Small windows set high above the seat allowed the afternoon sunlight to filter into the room, without adding the distraction of being able to watch people walk by outside. The door was set to the left of the lectern, and Reed decided to snag a seat on that side of the room so he could leave quickly at the end of what was sure to be a lengthy lecture. However, he was also not interested in being a part of the lecture, so he chose a seat in the fourth and final row.

The first of the other recruits to arrive was the group of delinquents. Five strong, three guys and two girls, they mostly had the look of people only able to exercise power in a group. The largest among them was a heavy set boy with the face of a child, but the body of a bear. His wispy blond hair curled over his forehead like a newborn. The two smaller guys were ratty, enjoying the power afforded them by the sheer hulking size of their companion. The smaller girl was whiplash thin, with lank black hair and way too much make-up. All in all, not an impressive bunch.

The final girl was different. She was tall, taller than Reed, and built of thick, solid muscle. Her short hair was a murderous red, and she had a look to her eyes that said she was accustomed to violence. Her knuckles would crack every time she clenched her fist, but the excessive movement in the swinging of her arms and shoulders implied a lack of formal training. A street fighter then, someone who learned to fight in the harshest environment possible. She could be dangerous.

The delinquents settled in the opposite back corner as Reed, seeming to take no notice of him. The rest of the class trickled in, and five minutes later Captain Dumbass sauntered in. He wrote something on the board, very slowly, and when he stepped away, Reed saw Captain Collins scrawled in messy letters across the board.

So that was his name.

"Alright recruits," he said, slapping one hand on his stomach as he talked, making it jiggle.

"This is the pattern your first few weeks will follow. Talks in the morning where I attempt to give you my experience. Weapons training until one, where you shall learn how to hold a spear. Finally, after a quick lunch break, lessons on the types of Grimm you are likely to see."

Reed settled into his seat with hooded eyes, resigning himself to the monotony. This was his life now, after all. At least for the hours of eight to five. He had other plans for that afternoon, which should prove to be much more entertaining.

The evening sun peaked out from above the tall buildings surrounding Reed as he walked quickly away from the source of his nine-hour torture. Wanting to sweat out some of his frustration, he decided to visit his teacher and have a sparring session. The elderly man would be teaching a class until half past six, which left Reed with enough time to go get some dinner.

Reed had lived in Adigiar all his life. Combine that with a habit of wandering the streets when frustrated or unable to sleep, and he had a pretty good mental map of the city. After walking a ways down the busy street the Town Guard headquarters was located on, Reed cut down a side alley lined with dumpsters to emerge onto a quiet side street. Small local businesses lined both sides of the two lane road, selling everything from clothes and accessories, to weapons, Dust, and ammunition.

Reed crossed the road after waiting for a single old car to trundle past and walked until he was outside Komodo Curry. It was a local mom and pop restaurant run by a family of Faunus that took after Komodo dragons. The middle aged woman behind the waitress podium looked up as the bell above the door jingled, and smiled when she saw who it was.

"Reed!" she exclaimed, her brief outburst letting a split, serpentine tongue snake momentarily between her lips. "It's been a while. I ran into your mom the other day at the grocery store, she said you just graduated."

Her eyes softened a little. "She also said you joined the Town Guard..."

Reed nodding, smiling at the concern in her voice. Reed's mom, as a chef, knew all the best local food spots, and they had been coming here as long as he could remember. Despite the animosity some people showed Faunus, Reed had grown up around them and knew them to be some of the best people he had ever met.

The woman's name was Melony, a kindly mother of a rambunctious five-year-old girl and devoted wife to the chef of the establishment, Menlo.

"Yeah, I did. It's just temporary though. I missed my chance to take the Beacon entrance exam last year due to..." his voice caught, and Melony put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He gave her a quick smile and finished with, "Well, suffice to say I just joined the guard so I could train for next year."

"Of course dear. Well, our best table is open, I'm assuming you want the usua-"

Her words were cut off by a squeal as a three-foot-tall blur of movement burst from the back room and tackled Reed's legs, gripping them in scaly talons. A tiny face peered up at him from under short, spiky black hair, as Melony's daughter, Katherine said excitedly, "Reed! Where have you been, you haven't come to visit us in forever!"

She released him, placing her hands on her hips, and said with a stern face, "I counted."

Reed laughed as he squatted in front of her and rubbed her head, her fake stern demeanor instantly dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"Sorry Kat." An ironic name for a lizard Faunus. "I've been busy. Would you like to sit with me while I eat?"

Her excitement returned and she practically started vibrating. "Actually I can't, I have to help daddy set up for the dinner rush!"

With that, she zipped away through the door into the kitchen. Reed laughed and seated himself at one of the tables in the back and out of the way.

He got his food in record time, they always made special accommodations for him. He had plenty of time, so he ate slowly, surfing the local news site on his scroll. He left at a quarter to six, waving to Melony, who was taking another table's order. As usual, they charged him only half price for his food. Also as usual, Reed left them a tip that covered the rest, and some extra.

Reed's dojo was only three blocks from Komodo Curry, so he still had some time. He stopped in front of the window of his favorite bookstore to see what new items they had in stock. He met the kindly gaze of the woman behind the counter and waved at her before continuing down the street.

Between Komodo Curry, The Booksellers, and his dojo, Reed had practically grown up on this one cozy side street. He always felt at peace here.

The road ended at a small Eastern style building in the middle of a bamboo garden. Its roof had a square top, sloping steadily down before curving up just a little at the bottom. Half cylinder shingles of a time-dulled red redirected the elements, while still allowing the heat from bodies hard at work to escape from the top. Paper screens lined the outside. Wooden shutters could be attached during times of bad weather, but the Adigiar summer was hot and dry, so it would probably be several months before they were necessary.

Deciding he could use the extra time to change into his Gi, Reed strode through the sliding paper screen door of the small, Eastern style building. Beyond the small entrance way a padded floor took up most of the building, where a group of a dozen beginners were paying their end of lesson respects to Reed's teacher.

Reed bowed to his teacher when he made eye contact, then slid into a small side room to change.

Once he was clothed in the loose breathable fabric of his traditional Gi, and his black cloth belt had been tied to keep it all together, he left the changing room. The line of beginners filed in, each nodding their respect in turn as they passed him.

Reed bowed once more as he took to the mat, bare feet enjoying the cool feel of the padding beneath him.

His sensei waited at the far end, knees tucked under him, and his expression warm and welcoming. He was an elderly man, with stark white hair in a long ponytail down his back and a close cropped beard to match. His dark complexion told of his desert nomad ancestry, and the nine red stripes on his black belt attested to a life-time devoted to the martial arts.

Reed knelt in front of him and bowed low, forehead touching the ground.

"Tanaka," he said simply, and his master inclined his head as well, though not nearly as deeply.

"Reed, it is good to see you. I had assumed that your induction into the Town Guard would keep you away for some time, it is wonderful to be mistaken."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, though they had a gleam of curiosity in them. "Why is it that you are here? There wasn't an incident, I hope."

Deciding that the momentary confrontation with the Captain didn't count, Reed shook his head and explained that they had been let out early so the beginners could rest their muscles.

Tanaka laughed again and said, "So naturally you decided to come here. I take it the exercise was not up to your standards?"

Reed snorted, "Hardly, all we did was poke a bag of straw with a wooden stick for three hours. Honestly, it's almost impressive how inept some of them are."

"You forget that you too were a beginner once," Tanaka chided, causing Reed to avert his gaze. "Give them time, I'm sure there are some gems hidden among them."

Reed snorted again. "Either way," he said, "It doesn't really matter. I'm only there for a year, no point in getting too chummy with anyone."

Tanaka sighed. "A year is a long time, Reed, and precious in their limited quantity. You only have one life, might as well enjoy the now, even when the future is what you wish for."

Reed conceded the point with a small nod. Moving on to the point of his visit, he asked his teacher, "Might we have a sparring match? It feels wrong to have had a wooden pole in my hand for so long without wielding it in the fashion I was taught."

Tanaka smiled and nodded. He knew this was what the visit would come down to. He had been impressed when, four years ago, Reed had walked in with all the swagger he had previously shown gone. He had shuffled over to the older man, prostrated himself on the floor, and begged the teacher's forgiveness for his lax attitude and attendance. Since that day, he had been one of the most dedicated students Tanaka had had the pleasure of teaching, and it showed as his abilities quickly grew.

Grabbing two staffs from their rack on the wall Tanaka tossed one to Reed, and they took up positions in the middle of the room. As Reed prepared to activate his semblance, his teachers face grew serene, and he closed his eyes.

To someone else, this may have seemed an opening. Reed knew better. His teacher was showing him the utmost respect as an opponent by fighting with everything he had, including his own formidable semblance.

Reed felt the air tighten slightly around him. Old practitioners of his teacher's style were rumored to have the ability to literally sense their opponent, although this was largely due to extensive training of all of their physical senses.

For Tanaka, however, his semblance made this a reality. Through the molecules in the air he could feel every tiny vibration, every minuscule shift in balance or slight tensing of muscle.

His teacher never struck first. It was the motto he lived by. Therefore, it fell to Reed to initiate the duel.

Reed started spinning his staff, the wood quickly becoming a blur in his hands. When he felt he had reached the limit of his speed, Reed activated his semblance.

His body still moved the same speed, but time seemed to slow to half its normal pace. The staff now rotated in smooth, unhurried arcs as it passed from hand to hand. Reed egged it on faster still before spinning it behind his back and slipping it forward towards Tanaka's ribcage.

Tanaka's own staff swept up from its vertical position behind his back. It knocked Reed's staff harmlessly away, before beginning to gain speed in the master's own complicated set of twirls.

Reed recovered his staff's balance in time to catch a low blow aimed at his rib cage, left hand held high to keep Tanaka's staff from crashing painfully into Reed's right hand. Before Tanaka could recover Reed pushed the connected staffs up, making minor adjustments as he saw his master attempt to maneuver out of the sweep.

When both staffs were high in the air Reed stepped around, bringing the shorter end of his staff around for a jab at his teacher's exposed kidney. Tanaka's left hand released the staff and caught Reed's elbow before he could complete the motion, redirecting it across Tanaka's stomach so that Reed would unbalance as he overextended.

Seeing what was about to happen, Reed stepped around the older man with the momentum of his swing. Tanaka had let the staff slide behind him, protecting his back, so Reed chose to disengage and rolled away, coming back up in a ready stance as his teacher turned to face him.

The entire flurry of blows had lasted maybe five seconds, ten to Reed's distorted perception. He did not understand how the older man could move with that much speed and react that quickly with a semblance that only let him know the instant Reed decided to move. It had to be a life-time of experience and hard learned lessons.

They sparred in such a manor for the next hour, some of their exchanges lasting long minutes as wood cracked against wood again and again. Reed was bruised and battered, even through his Aura, from a dozen smacks and jabs to his ribs, legs, shoulders and back. His teacher remained untouched.

Panting, Reed held the staff in in one hand and across his back. He bowed low to his teacher, and said, "Thank you for the lesson teacher, as always. I hope to one day provide you with a match worthy of someone of your skill. I am afraid I must take my leave, I would rather be in as few pieces as possible tomorrow."

That drew a smile from his teacher, who imitated Reed's stance and bowed back. "You do yourself an injustice, Reed. You are as skilled a staff wielder as I have ever had the privilege of sparring with. Given time, you shall likely surpass even me. Until then, I look forward to our next match."

Reed returned his staff to its spot on the wall. He changed quickly back into his street clothes and headed out, bowing one final time at the door. It took him about twenty minutes to walk home, taking several alleys to cut off the areas that would be busy at this time of day.

Anxious to wash off the sweat from his sparring match, Reed climbed the stairs two at a time. After he had toweled off and changed into fresh clothes, Reed went to the window and threw it wide open.

The city wall was twenty feet away, a little used pedestrian road between it and the apartment complex. Reed retreated into the room and sat at his desk, thinking.

He knew he wouldn't be fighting Grimm for a while if he was restricted to the same pace as the other recruits. He had figured he would get some extra practice in by sneaking into the forest at night, but Reed hadn't thought that would be the only practice he would get.

However, there were several things he would have to do before he could go out into the forest alone.

He needed a real weapon. Reed could handle a Creeper or two with a normal staff, but it would probably break after more than that, and would be almost useless against a Beowolf.

Reed knew that a real Hunter's weapon would be far too expensive, even if he saved up every Lien he could for a year. The complicated combinations of melee weapons, guns, and Dust were only made by expert blacksmiths and Hunters, and as such they could practically name their price. However, after a month he could probably afford a simple metal staff, capable of at least bludgeoning a Grimm to death.

He grimaced at the barbaric solution. If he waited an extra two months, he could probably afford a staff with a single Dust slot.

Dust, the elements contained in physical form ready to be unleashed, were a common tool in the pocket of any Hunter. Wind, fire, ice, earth, lightning, gravity, the powers of nature able to be called on in an instant to devastating effect. Just as the types of dust were varied in power and ability, their application was only limited by the imagination of the user. Reed had seen a Hunter freeze a lake in the middle of the summer to provide a fun respite from the heat, or use earth to create a break and prevent a forest fire from spreading.

Then there were the tournaments. Hunters from around the world of Remnant would compete, using Dust in amazing combinations to amplify their fighting prowess.

Some applications were as simple as adding extra power to an attack by setting the weapon on fire. The best Hunters, however, could use dust in practically any way they saw fit. Creating slick patches of ice to cause an opponent to slip, creating a gale wind underneath them to add extra height to their jump, or combining elements to unleash devastating attacks sure to drain Aura in an instant. The applications were endless.

If he had to limit himself to one element, ice would be the most practical. Against a Beowolf it would limit its movement, allowing Reed to aim more easily for the weak points. It would also be useful against multiple Creepers, keep the majority immobilized and letting Reed dispatch them one at a time. But fire would deal a lot more damage, letting him end fights quickly.

For now, Reed decided to put the matter to the back of his mind. He had plenty of time to think about that before he would even be able to afford a weapon that could employ Dust. Noticing the late hour on his desktop display, Reed decided to call it a night. He stiffly climbed into bed, forcing his mind into a meditative state so that his racing thoughts wouldn't keep him awake through the night.