High E

It was a day like any other. Adam roamed the massive complex, aimlessly exploring the quiet halls. The place stretched endlessly, but there was little to do. As he wandered, a peculiar building caught his attention. It looked like a religious temple, its large wooden door engraved with a single, ornate eye.

Curious, Adam pushed the door open. Inside, he found a woman kneeling at an altar. She muttered a prayer, stood, and walked past him without a word. Adam lingered, glancing around at the room's intricate carvings and faint glow of candlelight.

That's when he heard it—a voice.

At first, he dismissed it as his imagination. But then it came again, this time clearer.

"Adam."

He froze, turning toward the sound, but no one was there. Confused, he reached for his temple. He'd felt no pain, no strain—it was a split bond, yet effortless.

"Who are you?" Adam called aloud. "Show yourself!"

There was no reply. Determined to investigate, he searched the temple. In the back, he came across a reinforced door with a sign that read Restricted Area. Just as he was about to approach, someone interrupted.

"Hello there. That's off-limits."

Adam turned to see a man dressed sharply in a suit adorned with sparkling jewelry. His confident demeanor suggested he was someone of importance.

"I heard a voice," Adam explained, still glancing back at the door. "It came from here, I think."

The man smiled knowingly. "Ah, that would be Lord Amoneht. Where were you when you heard it?"

"In the building with the eye on the door," Adam replied, pointing.

The man nodded. "That explains it. Lord Amoneht is our god. Legends say he was once like us—a bakanna. But one day, he ascended and became divine." He extended his hand. "I'm Bob Colia, though most call me High Roller."

Adam hesitated. Back home, people were sensitive about their gods, and he didn't want to offend. Still, he nodded politely and introduced himself.

Bob seemed unbothered and took the opportunity to share stories about Amoneht and the temple's history. He also rambled about departmental politics, though Adam wasn't particularly interested. Still, he listened out of courtesy.

Months passed, and while Adam excelled in other aspects of his training—his strength had increased to the point where he could bench press 660 kilograms for hours—he still couldn't split. Everyone, including Emac, pushed him to improve, but it was frustrating. Splitting felt like a wall he couldn't break through.

Desperate, Adam decided to take up Sern's offer to train under Ugo. He made his way to Sern's office, but when he knocked and entered, he found Sern already in conversation with someone else.

"Oh, Adam!" Sern greeted warmly. "Perfect timing. This is Naté. He's just joined us from the Doom and will be training with you."

Naté, a wiry man with piercing eyes, gave Adam a slight bow. Adam returned the gesture, unsure how he felt about this newcomer.

"What brings you here, Adam?" Sern asked.

Caught off guard, Adam lied. "I wanted to ask for advice on improving my training."

Sern nodded, satisfied, and the topic shifted. Adam introduced Naté to Emac, who took him under his wing for training. Over the next six months, Naté made incredible progress. While Adam struggled with splitting, Naté achieved two splits in record time.

The achievement frustrated Adam even further. Worse, Naté's newfound success made him insufferably arrogant.

Over time, Adam and Naté became known as part of the Credulous Creed. The name started as a joke among their peers, a mocking reference to their struggles and inexperience. Adam didn't mind the name—it was just noise to him. But Naté, fueled by pride and a growing sense of entitlement from his success with splitting, hated it.

The others' whispers were constant. "The Credulous Creed can't even split together," someone said once, loud enough for Naté to hear. The remark sparked yet another one of his fights.

While Adam ignored the gossip, Naté couldn't let it go. He fought anyone who mocked them, desperate to prove himself. The fights didn't help their reputation, but it didn't stop Naté. To distance himself from the nickname, he started calling himself Pride, a reference to his two splits. He wore the name like a badge, throwing it in the faces of those who doubted him.

When Sern announced a new mission, Adam and Naté insisted on joining.

"We Pride need to show you what we're capable of," Naté said confidently, emphasizing the name as if daring anyone to challenge him.

The group was hesitant. Paps, their leader for the mission, wasn't thrilled with the idea of taking the two. But Adam and Naté's persistence wore him down.

"Fine," Paps relented with a sigh. "But don't slow us down. This is a simple mission—don't make it complicated."

The mission itself was straightforward: a nullfire beacon had been activated on a distant planet. The beacon had stopped death and aging on the planet.It was disrupting the balance, and their job was to deactivate it.

As they prepared to leave, Adam couldn't help but ask, "Who decides where we go? Who tells us this is something we need to fix?"

Paps chuckled at his ignorance. "Sern gets divine instructions directly from Amoneht. That's how we know where to go."

Adam frowned, not entirely convinced. "I mean, not dying or aging sounds like a good thing."

Emac, who had been checking their gear, stopped and looked at him. "I thought the same thing when I first joined. But Amoneht sees the bigger picture. He's always right. We just have to trust his guidance."

Adam nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced.

The group made their final preparations and boarded the transport ship. As they departed, Naté couldn't help but brag.

"You'll see. Pride will handle this mission better than anyone else," he said, loud enough for the others to hear.

Paps rolled his eyes but didn't respond. Adam, sitting quietly beside Naté, was starting to worry. The mission seemed simple enough, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.

A massive explosion erupted from thin air, rippling across the void like reality itself had been torn apart. But then, like a playback in reverse, the chaos collapsed in on itself, folding into silence. The stillness was deafening, stretching endlessly, until—another explosion. This one was more powerful, shaking existence to its core. When the light and fury faded, all that remained was a being of pure energy, radiant and pulsating with unimaginable power.

For a brief moment, there was nothing but the void. But to the creature, it felt like an eternity. Then, suddenly, everything. The universe unfolded before him, vibrant and alive. It was overwhelming, yet fascinating. Amidst it all, he realized something crucial—he had no name. No identity. Driven by a yearning to understand himself, he ventured across the cosmos, guided by an inexplicable connection to a distant planet.

When he arrived, he found the place barren and lifeless. The ruins of a once-thriving civilization lay scattered across the surface, evidence of a catastrophic event. A class 1 civilization, advanced yet fragile, had been wiped out in an instant. The being didn't move to the planet—it was as if the world itself shifted to align with him, drawn to his presence.

Suddenly, the desolation around him transformed. The ruins came alive; people walked the streets, vehicles hummed past, and the world buzzed with life. But as quickly as it began, the moment of life replayed its end. The being watched as the same catastrophic explosion that had wiped out the planet unfolded before him, this time in vivid detail.

Compelled by the origin of the destruction, he took on a humanoid form and appeared at the site of the explosion. Time twisted around him, rewinding the event. He saw it—an energy orb, small but intensely unstable, flickering with violent potential. The being was awestruck, captivated by its power.

A man entered the room where the orb was contained, moving with urgency. "Elias," the being thought as the name came to him unbidden. The man reached for the orb, working to stabilize it. But before he could, the orb erupted in a blinding flash of light and heat.

The being, unaffected by the explosion, noticed something falling to the ground. He bent down and picked it up—a partially charred identification card. Its edges burned at his touch, but fragments of text were still legible:

"Aileron Staff ID"

The rest of the card was damaged, except for faint impressions of a name: "Dr. High…E."

"High E…" the being murmured, the syllables resonating with him. "That is my identity."

The name settled in his mind, its meaning both foreign and familiar. He dropped the remains of the card, leaving it behind as he walked away. The ruins of the planet reverted to their lifeless state, but the card remained intact, preserved as if untouched by time. On its surface, the name stood out clearly:

"Dr. Elias Hightarget."

And so, the being, now Elias, began his journey—a creature born of energy, with a name tied to a past he did not yet understand.