The Syringe and the Offer

"Essence Awakening," Reid repeated, the words echoing Mikal's own. "Kargan… gained strength?"

Mikal nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Essence Awakening is just that – an awakening of one's physical essence. It's… primal. Instinctive. The body recognizes a catalyst, a trigger, and unlocks a dormant potential within." He paused, his gaze flicking to Reid's arm, as if seeing something beyond the worn fabric of his sleeve. "It can happen naturally, in moments of extreme stress, near-death experiences sometimes trigger it. Or…"

Mikal's hand moved, reaching inside his training jacket. He withdrew something long and slender, metallic, catching the dim light of the training hall. A syringe. It wasn't medical-grade, not sterile and clinical. This was… cruder, thicker glass, filled with a viscous, swirling liquid that shimmered with an unnatural, internal luminescence, like trapped lightning.

"Or," Mikal continued, his voice lowering further, almost conspiratorial, "it can be… encouraged." He held up the syringe, turning it slowly between his fingers. "With specialized catalysts. Essence Stimulants."

Reid stared at the syringe, his breath catching in his throat. He'd heard whispers, rumors in the undercity, hushed tones in the shadows of District Five – talk of 'boosters,' 'awakeners,' dangerous concoctions that could push someone towards power. But he'd dismissed them as desperate fantasies, slum myths. To see one held casually in Mikal's hand… it was like those whispers taking solid, terrifying form.

"These drugs force the awakening?" Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Mikal inclined his head, a grim acknowledgment. "They flood the system, overload the body's natural defenses, forcing a breakthrough. Into Awakening." He tapped the syringe against his palm, the glass clicking softly in the quiet hall. "Crude, yes. Unrefined. But effective."

He placed the syringe carefully on the bench beside him, then reached into another pocket, pulling out a slim, data-chip case. He flicked it open, revealing a small, flat data-slate nestled inside. "And then, there's this." He held up the slate. "The 'Soul Force Primer.' A manual, of sorts."

Reid's eyes widened. 'Soul Force Manuals'. The flier in the bunkhouse. Five thousand credits. He recognized the format.

"Once awakened," Mikal explained, his voice now taking on a more instructional tone, "Essence or otherwise, the real work begins. Channeling the power, increasing Soul Force. This," he indicated the data-slate, "is a basic primer. Teaches fundamental meditation techniques, breathing exercises, mental disciplines. All designed to guide the nascent Awakened soul."

He offered the data-slate to Reid, who hesitated, then reached out and took it, the cool metal surprisingly heavy in his hand. The screen flickered to life, displaying a stylized Redwood insignia and the title: 'Soul Force Primer – Redwood Edition. Rank 1'.

"Rank 1," Reid repeated, his gaze snapping back to Mikal. "There are ranks?"

Mikal nodded. "Seven in total, as I mentioned. Awakened is Rank One. Essence Awakening, even drug-induced, is generally just Rank One." He gestured back to the syringe. "The stronger the stimulant, the higher the potential for awakening. And the higher the cost, naturally."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping again. "This stimulant," he tapped the syringe once more, "is potent. Almost certain Rank One Essence Awakening. But," he paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in, "it is also expensive. Very expensive."

Reid swallowed, his gaze flicking between the syringe and the data-slate. The manual, discounted for Redwood affiliates, was already 5,000 credits. What then, was the syringe worth?

As if reading his thoughts, Mikal provided the answer, his voice casual, yet the number he uttered hung in the air like a physical weight. "This stimulant? On the open market, if you could even find it… Twenty thousand credits. Minimum. Black market markup would likely be double that."

Twenty thousand credits. For a syringe. More than ten times what Redwood had paid him for the circuit boards. More than he'd ever held in his hands at once in his life. A fortune distilled into a vial of shimmering liquid. And it was sitting right there, on the bench beside him. Within reach.

Reid felt a dizzying mix of desire and apprehension churn within him. Power. Raw, physical power, attainable with a single injection. And knowledge, guidance, a path forward laid out in the data-slate in his hand. Escape from District Four, escape from the slums, a chance to be more than just a scavenger, all potentially within his grasp.

But twenty thousand credits. Why was Mikal showing him this? Why was he, a low-level recruit, being offered a glimpse, however fleeting, of such valuable and dangerous tools?

He looked up at Mikal, his voice now tinged with a wary suspicion. "Why are you showing me this? Why tell me all this?" He gestured vaguely between the syringe and the data-slate. "Why offer training to be Awakened to me?"

Mikal watched him for a long moment, his expression unreadable, his sharp eyes assessing, probing. Then, he smiled, a slow, genuine smile this time, though still with an underlying edge of calculation. "Because, Eulison, I see potential. Raw, unrefined, yes. But potential. You're quick. You're resilient. And there are some surprising rumors about your capabilities." His gaze sharpened, a flicker of something that might have been admiration, or simply cold professional appraisal. "That's not luck. That's something Redwood can use."

He leaned back slightly, spreading his hands as if presenting a grand opportunity. "Redwood invests in assets, Eulison. We nurture talent. We cultivate strength. You've shown a flicker of something special. I want to see if that flicker can become a flame."

He paused, then his tone shifted, becoming more direct, more businesslike. "And there's an opportunity. Tonight." He glanced at a small chronometer on his wrist. "An operation. District Three. Infiltration, retrieval, some delicate extraction work." He shrugged, as if downplaying the danger. "Standard Redwood business. I'm leading the team."

He leaned forward again, his voice now a low, persuasive murmur. "Join me, Eulison. Tonight. I believe you have potential, a certain spark." He paused, letting his words hang in the air, then delivered the offer, now framed as a gift for accepting the mission. "And to show you Redwood's appreciation for promising recruits like yourself, I want you to have these." He gestured to the syringe and the data-slate on the bench. "Consider them a gift. Redwood investment in your future. Yours, simply for agreeing to join me tonight."

Reid stared at Mikal, his mind reeling. The syringe. The manual. Offered as a bonus. If he just joined a Redwood mission. Tonight. A mission that Mikal himself was leading. It was insane. Incredible. Terrifying. And utterly, breathtakingly tempting.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "Tonight?" he managed to croak out, his voice barely audible. "A mission? What kind of mission?"

Mikal smiled again, this time a wider, more predatory smile, the calculating edge now sharper, more visible. "Let's just say it involves reminding some competitors that Redwood always gets what Redwood wants. Discreetly, of course. But effectively." He stood, his movements fluid and powerful. "Think about it, Eulison. The offer is open. Tonight."

He didn't wait for an answer, simply turned and strode towards the training hall exit, leaving Reid sitting on the bench, the data-slate still clutched in his hand, the syringe shimmering enticingly beside him. The air crackled with unspoken promises, with the weight of a choice that could change everything.

Reid sat there for a long moment, the sounds of the Redwood training facility fading into a dull background hum. His heart hammered against his ribs, adrenaline and a potent cocktail of fear and exhilarating anticipation surging through his veins.

Ten thousand credits. And a manual. For one night's work. A dangerous mission, led by an Enforcer who clearly saw something in him. Something worth investing in. Something worth pushing towards Awakening.

Temptation warred with caution. Redwood. They weren't offering this out of kindness. They wanted something in return. Loyalty. Obedience.

But the alternative? Continue scraping by in District Four, always looking over his shoulder for Stonefang, always weak, always vulnerable? Forever trapped, with only a faint, flickering power he barely understood, a Soul Force of '1/100'?

He closed his eyes, picturing the reflection space, the single, lonely mirror shard. Seek adversity, strive for mastery and the next mirror may reveal itself.

He opened his eyes, his gaze hardening with a sudden resolve. He had nothing to lose but his chains. And everything to gain. Power. Knowledge. Escape. Maybe even answers about the Shattered Gate itself.

He stood abruptly, his decision made. He needed to know more about this mission, about Redwood's expectations, about Mikal himself. But he would go. He would take the chance. He would step into the fire, hoping, praying, that it would forge him into something stronger, something more than just Reid Eulison, the scavenging kid from District Five. 

He wanted to be reborn anew.

Reid turned back, retrieving both the data-slate and the shimmering syringe from the bench, clutching them tightly in his hand. He had a deal to consider. And a night, and a life, to gamble.