"And you think he's..."
"Bounty hunter. Professional one, by the look of his gear. Been asking real specific questions. The kind that usually end with someone getting hurt."
"Did he say who hired him?"
"Oh, he's been real chatty since we had our little conversation. Apparently some noble houses got together, pooled their resources. Seems they're not too happy about something you did."
The academy grounds suddenly felt very exposed. Adom glanced around, noting the shadows between buildings, the places someone could watch from. "I'll come by later."
"Good."
The connection ended with a soft click.
Adom stared at the crystal for a moment, then slipped it back into his pocket.
The city was changing fast. The Weird Stuff Store now sat wedged between a new baker and a cobbler, its hand-painted sign faded but still readable in the evening light.
The cats were back.
Three of them lounged on the wooden crates stacked outside the store, and two more prowled between the barrels. Adom had seen them here before, but he'd never bothered to listen. Today felt different.
He stopped and focused, reaching for that familiar mental shift that let him understand Zuni's elaborate opinions.
"—told you he'd be back," a sleek black cat was saying from atop the highest crate. "Humans are predictable."
"Aristoteles is always right about these things," agreed a tabby sprawled across a barrel. He sounded bored, but his tail twitched with interest. "Makes the rest of us look bad."
A ginger tom looked up from where he'd been investigating something behind the crates. "Adom! You're back! Did you bring anything good for us?"
Adom blinked. "You know my name?"
All five cats turned to stare at him. The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable.
"He understood me," the ginger tom said slowly.
"Obviously he understood you, Merlin," Aristoteles said from her perch. "The question is how."
"I learned animal speech," Adom said, feeling oddly like he was confessing to something.
"Well, that's new," muttered the tabby. "Usually humans just walk past pretending we don't exist."
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A small calico emerged from behind a rain barrel. "Does this mean you'll actually listen when we tell you things now?"
"Depends on what you're telling me."
"Smart answer," Aristoteles said approvingly. "Most people assume we only talk about fish and sunny spots."
"Don't you?"
"Please." The calico sat down and began grooming a paw with obvious disdain. "I'm Vaelthara, by the way. That's Plutarch on the barrel, Merlin's the ginger, Heraclitus is lurking somewhere, and Her Royal Fuzziness up there is Aristoteles."
"I prefer 'She Who Knows Things,'" Aristoteles corrected.
Merlin padded closer. "So about those things we mentioned. You still planning to go inside and see the old man?"
"That was the idea."
"Good. When you come back out, could you maybe bring some of those dried fish he keeps behind the counter? The ones in the blue jar."
Adom stared at him. "You want me to steal fish for you?"
"Not steal," Plutarch said lazily. "Negotiate. The old man likes you. Just ask nicely."
"He'll probably give them to you for free if you explain the situation," Vaelthara added. "Humans love feeling generous."
"What situation?"
"The one where we've been watching his store for three weeks while he was gone," Aristoteles said. "Kept the rats away, scared off that drunk who kept trying to sleep in his doorway, made sure nobody broke in. Standard neighborhood cat services."
"You were working?"
"Working, lounging, what's the difference?" Plutarch stretched, claws extending briefly. "Point is, we earned those fish."
"Fair enough." Adom looked around at the five cats, all watching him with the particular intensity that suggested this conversation was more important than it seemed. "Anything else I should know?"
"Heraclitus wants to mention the thing about the weird smells," Merlin said. "But he's too shy to talk to humans directly."
A voice drifted from somewhere under the crates. "Not shy. Cautious. There's a difference."
"What weird smells?" Adom asked the general area where the voice had come from.
Silence.
"He says someone's been hanging around at night," Vaelthara translated. "Someone who smells like metal and leather and fear."
The cold feeling in Adom's stomach returned. "Recently?"
"Last few nights," Aristoteles confirmed. "Stood across the street for hours, just watching. Heraclitus has the best nose among us. If he says the guy smelled like trouble, then trouble's what it was."
Adom glanced across the street, noting the shadowed doorways and narrow alleys. Perfect spots for watching.
"I'll keep that in mind. And I'll ask about the fish."
"Excellent," Merlin said, already losing interest and wandering back toward his investigation behind the crates. "Nice having a conversation for once instead of just meowing at you."
"Speak for yourself," Vaelthara said. "I've got a perfectly dignified meow."
Adom left them to their debate and pushed open the door to the Weird Stuff Store. The familiar smell of old leather, dried herbs, and something that might have been magic or might have been mold greeted him.
"Young Adom!" Biggins looked up from behind the counter, his weathered face creasing into a genuine smile. "Back from your travels, I see. How did you find the fae realm? Exhausting as always, I'd imagine."
Adom opened his mouth to respond, but Biggins waved a hand dismissively.
"Never mind all that. Thorgen already filled me in on your little bounty hunter situation." The old man's eyes twinkled. "Quite the eventful few days you've been having, haven't you?"
Adom sighed and let his shoulders drop. "If you already knew, then why ask?"
"Because, my dear boy, asking the right questions is like putting on your left shoe before your right one—it doesn't change where you're going, but it makes the journey far more interesting."
Biggins leaned forward on the counter, his grin widening. "Besides, I wasn't asking about the realm. I was asking about what you brought back from it."
The old man's gaze sharpened despite the playful tone. "Show me."
Adom didn't argue. There was no point with Biggins when he got that particular look in his eyes.
He took a slow breath, centering himself, and reached for the energy that had been thrumming beneath his skin.
He exhaled.
The white light that emerged was nothing like what he'd managed before. It flowed from him, ethereal and intense, filling the cluttered space with a radiance that seemed to exist somewhere between sight and sensation.
The energy moved with purpose now, controlled but powerful, threading between the shelves and displays.
Adom gasped.
It felt like diving into an ice-cold lake without warning—that moment when your entire body jolts awake, when every nerve fires at once and your lungs forget how to work.
The sensation was breathtaking in the most literal sense, leaving him momentarily stunned by the sheer intensity of what was flowing through him.
This was new.
Around the store, objects began to vibrate. Glass bottles clinked against each other on their shelves.
A collection of brass instruments hummed. The wooden floorboards creaked as if the building itself was responding to the energy.
A set of wind chimes hanging near the window started singing despite the absence of any breeze.
The light pulsed once more and then faded, leaving the store in its normal dim illumination. The objects settled back into stillness with a few final clinks and creaks.
Biggins stood perfectly still behind the counter, his eyes fixed on the space where the energy had been strongest. His expression had shifted from playful curiosity to something far more serious.
"Fascinating," he said quietly.
Adom stared at his hands, flexing his fingers as if he could still see traces of the energy lingering there. "I don't understand it. It's not mana—I know what mana feels like. And it's not Fluid either."
He looked up at Biggins. "I thought maybe it was Axis, but not the way I learned about it. This feels completely different."
"It is Axis," Biggins said.
"But—"
"The principle of Axis, my boy, is to create a synergy between mana and Fluid. To make them dance together until they become something new, a single entity rather than two separate forces."
Biggins moved around the counter, stepping carefully over a brass astrolabe that had fallen during the energy display. "Only in you, it's manifested differently."
Adom frowned. "Differently how?"
"Well, that's to be expected, isn't it?" Biggins picked up the astrolabe and set it back on its shelf. "You're the first human to actually complete the process. I designed the technique, but I never had anyone successfully finish it before you."
The old man turned back to face Adom. "You managed it in three days while running for your life through a realm that actively resists human presence. Of course it's going to manifest in ways I never anticipated."
The old man's expression grew more serious, though traces of amusement still lingered around his eyes. "Because of your particular abilities and constitution, it's evolving rapidly to catch up with what you already are. The same thing happened to me when I first developed the technique, though admittedly on a much bigger scale."
Adom felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, but then another thought struck him. "Actually, there's something else. The system showed that I have something called a 'primordial body' now. It happened after my healing factor, white wyrm's body, and silverback's might combined somehow."
Biggins paused mid-gesture, his hand frozen in the air. "Are you certain it called it a primordial body?"
"Positive."
"Hmm." Biggins stroked his mustache. "While I'm still not familiar with this 'system' of yours to this day, that particular term... I'll need to do some research on that one before I can give you a proper answer. I'll let you know once I'm done."
A familiar knot of worry formed in Adom's stomach. "Nothing bad, right?"
"Bad?" Biggins's face brightened instantly, his tone returning to its usual cheerful madness. "Nooo. Why would it be bad?"
"Okay," Adom said, feeling marginally better about the whole situation.