Chapter 9: A Something
The moment Samantha left the room, the air shifted, carrying a weight of lingering tension.
With a soft click, Otto's mechanical hand adjusted the supernatural stick, the cold metal fingers wrapping around it with precise control. For a moment, everything felt still. The workshop's machinery hummed in the background.
"So, when do I start my internship?"
Otto shifted his weight and glanced up at Asher, his eyes sharp behind the glasses. He placed the feather he had been fiddling with behind his ear for ease, his expression never wavering as he began.
"So, what are you trying to do, exactly?" Otto's voice was calm but carried an edge of something almost clinical. "And who's behind you?"
Asher's eyes narrowed in confusion. The question caught him off guard. "What do you mean, who's behind me? What kind of question is that?"
Otto didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached for the shard of glass that had been resting on the desk, holding it up to Asher's neck.
The sharp edges caught the light, almost gleaming with intent.
What the fuck!? I thought this was just some job interview!
"This," Otto said, his tone shifting to something colder, "is from a Sequence 7 Warlock. I can use it to peer into the ether bodies of others."
Asher froze, an uncomfortable feeling spreading through him.
Warlock, like the D class?
What does that have to do with anything?
More importantly, what's this sequence everyone's talking about?
Otto's eyes remained trained on him, scrutinizing his every movement, his every breath.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Asher muttered, trying to hold his composure.
Otto's gaze sharpened further. "You're a Beyonder," he stated flatly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Asher stared at him for a moment, his mind racing. "A what?"
His voice wavered with disbelief, frustration curling in his gut. "What are you talking about? I have no idea what a Beyonder is."
Otto leaned back slightly in his chair, the gears of his mechanical hand clicking softly as he crossed his arms. "Samantha thinks you're a poor street urchin, just another beggar passing through. But," he paused, his eyes never leaving Asher, "when I look at you, I see the soul of a Beyonder."
Asher's confusion only deepened, his head spinning with the weight of Otto's words. "Again, what does that even mean?"
Otto continued, not bothered by Asher's growing confusion. "I can see the signs. Your ether body. The way it's layered, like it's not entirely human. It's fractured and reforged. You're not a normal person." He picked up the shard again, his fingers drumming lightly against the smooth surface as he continued. "I'm sure of it. You're from one of the following pathways: Seer, Marauder, Apprentice, Monster, Mystery Prier, or Savant."
Asher shifted uncomfortably. He didn't understand the words, but something about the way Otto spoke made his skin crawl. Otto's eyes narrowed, and he continued to break down his thoughts as if inspecting a puzzle.
"Now, being a Savant and knowing a Mystery Prier, I can rule those out. You don't have the necessary traits. Apprentice is out as well—your ether body's too different for that."
He tilted his head as if considering, tapping the shard against his fingers thoughtfully. "That leaves Seer, Marauder, or Monster."
Asher's heart began to pound in his chest. "I can help you, I just need to know what you're saying?"
Otto's voice hardened. "The signs are here. You're no simple street urchin, Asher. You're one of us." He tapped the glass again. "The Seer would have items for divination, tools that guide their sight. You don't have that. So, I can disregard Seer."
Asher blinked, his mind reeling. "Marauder? Monster? What are you talking about? Plus, she's the one who came to that assumption!"
Otto's gaze intensified as he focused on Asher's expression, still disregarding everything he said. "You're probably not a Monster. I haven't met one, but you're too human. Meanwhile the Marauders… they have a certain... vitality. Do you have any criminal tendencies?"
"A Sequence 9 Planter characteristic, like the one your stick possesses. Someone had to die for that."
The words struck Asher like a slap in the face, his breath catching in his throat. "You're saying… I killed someone?"
Otto shrugged, a nonchalant motion that only added to the weight of his words. "It's not certain. But the signs point to it. You have the hallmark of a Marauder."
Asher's pulse raced, and for a moment, he felt like he might collapse under the weight of the accusation. He didn't know what he was anymore or what he was supposed to be. But standing there, in the oppressive heat of the church/workshop, he knew that something was terribly wrong.
The silence that followed Otto's final words hung heavy in the room, pressing down on Asher like a physical weight.
He tried to gather his thoughts, to make sense of everything being thrown at him, but his mind was a whirlwind of confusion and panic. If what Otto said was true—and that was a big if—then his entire reality was being pulled out from under him.
His fingers dug into his palm out of nervousness, and he forced himself to take a steadying breath.
If I'm going to survive this conversation, I need to probe him all the same.
I can use some of the cryptic nonsense Otto has been spouting to probe for info!
"Alright, let's say you're right," Asher started, his voice shaky but firm. "Let's say I'm... whatever you called it. A Beyonder. Would that explain why I keep seeing weird colors after hitting my head? Or why my gut keeps screaming at me to run or fight at the weirdest time?"
Otto's mechanical hand froze mid-adjustment of the stick. His sharp eyes locked onto Asher, his expression shifting slightly.
It wasn't quite a surprise—it was more like the look of someone who had just stumbled across a particularly interesting clue to a puzzle.
"Colors?" Otto repeated, his tone cautious. "Intuition? Dreams, perhaps?"
Asher nodded slowly, uncertain. "Yeah. And not just dreams—more like nightmares. They don't make sense, but they feel... real. There's this glowing key trying to fight the darkness, like it's trying to tell me something."
Otto set the stick down, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative look. The gears in his mechanical hand clicked softly as he tapped the desk with his metal fingers. "Interesting," he muttered, almost to himself. "You could be a Monster pathway Beyonder after all."
The words hit Asher like a punch to the gut. "Monster?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly.
"You're calling me a monster now?"
Otto waved a dismissive hand.
"Not in the way you're thinking. The Monster pathway deals with fate, intuition, and perception. Seeing colors with spirit vision, sensing danger, vivid dreams... these are hallmark traits."
Asher tightened his eyes, pondering the sudden revelation, but Otto held up a finger to stop him.
"Or," Otto continued, "this could be a clever attempt at misdirection. A Marauder masquerading as a Monster would explain the contradictions. Marauders thrive on deception and confusion."
"What contradictions?" Asher snapped, his frustration boiling over. "I don't even know what half of this means! You're the one making all these wild assumptions about me."
Otto leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Exactly. You're either a Marauder trying to manipulate me, or you're genuinely confused because you're a newly awakened Monster Beyonder. Either way, your presence here is far from coincidence."
Asher's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. If Otto was right—if he was one of these Beyonders—then what did that make him? A freak? A killer? Someone destined to die in this very room? The thought was terrifying, but one that needed confronting.
"I don't know what I am," Asher admitted, his voice quiet but firm. "But I know I didn't ask for any of this."
Otto studied him for a long moment, his sharp gaze finally relaxing. He leaned back with a small sigh.
"Perhaps not. But the fact remains: you are something, Asher Jewel."