Chapter 57: Sub-route

“How does the concept of lens work?” Makun asked.

He had heard the voice that spoke in a tone of everything. It shook him, usually the memories just lodge in his brain without a single word. But this time he heard.

It shook him, but he also understood how useful it was.

He deduced it was some kind of direction he should follow to advance. First he understood his body better through the memories. It was not perfect, far from it but he did understand it. Then he understood what was called the formula to manipulate reality. Next was the lens.

Am I going to get such a thing everytime I advance? why did I not get it during initiation?

Now is not the time for that.

He looked at Jorg who took a sit, the Floor struggling to break because of the pressure emitted.

“What do you understand of sub routes?” Jorg asked

Makun scrached his head, recalling everything he had heard till now about Routes and subroutes.

He realised he did not get much on subroutes, be it from the book or from Yime.

In the book, It was noted that grade 1 tier 2, you should have a sub route, and by Tier 4 its fixed. While Yime mostly spoke of Working Multiple Routes and understanding reality through them.

The only other time he heard some mention something about him were those three.

They had called him a beserk Warrior but he had no Idea what that was.

“not much, I only know its something specific to people.” He answered.

Jorg nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “Most people don’t. Sub-routes are not taught during initiation because you have to discover yours through experience. Well some are given one during initiation, if they are fully apt for it.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “A Route is a lens. It shows you one aspect of reality. Warriors see force, momentum, violence etc… Scholars see patterns, structure, knowledge. Seers see probability, causality, threads of fate.”

He paused, letting the words settle.

“But reality is infinite. Even within a single Route, there are a thousand ways to see. That’s where sub-routes come in.”

Makun frowned. “So a sub-route is… a smaller lens?”

“Not smaller,” Jorg corrected. “More focused. Sharper. A Route gives you the foundation. A sub-route tells you which part of that foundation you will master.”

Jorg raised his hand. The air around his palm rippled, and Makun felt the training room press down on him again. Not crushing this time. Just heavy. The floor beneath Jorg groaned.

“I am a Warrior, You too are a Warrior.” Jorg said, voice calm. “But I do not see violence the way you do. I see weight. Mass. The pull between things. When I look at you, I see how much you weigh. How much force it would take to pin you to the ground. How much pressure your bones can handle before they crack.”

He lowered his hand. The pressure vanished.

“That is my lens. My sub-route is called Graviton Sovereign. I compress. I bind. I make things heavier until they cannot move.”

Makun exhaled slowly, feeling the phantom weight lift from his chest. He flexed his fingers.

He perfectly understood what Jorg meant. It was like two students studying biology, then one specialized as a doctor while the other ended up as a biological researcher. They both walked a similar Route, that was biology, but their sub-routes differed. However, at the end, they still understood the human body.

That was similar to them. They both walked the Warrior Route, specialized in different sectors, but at the end they were meant to understand the Source.

“And mine?” Makun asked.

Jorg’s eye fixed on him. “From the Report I got, you should be a Berserk Warrior. Your lens should be chaos, or rage. I cant be sure as I am not one myself.”

“Our office did encounter some of your kind before, and they were rage fueled. Maybe your comprehensions will differ. Up to you,” Jorg said.

Rage? Chaos? Where did that come from?

Makun had questions bubbling up in his head. Chaos was his lens? How did they know he was a Berserk? How was he meant to understand rage? Was it rage or chaos?

He needed answers but,

Vrrrrrrr. Jorg’s phone vibrated.

He took it out, read what seemed to be a message, then slowly stood up.

“That was all from me.” He said. “You are free to go.”

He started walking to the door. Makun quickly stood and followed right behind him.

“Why did you help me?” He wanted to know. He had to know.

He could not accept this streak of luck anymore.

Last time something good happened to him, it followed with a streak of disaster and he ended up killing a puppy.

All of that because a family who had nothing to do at the park at 5 AM appeared out of nothing as if they were forced there by something.

He was receiving help again. Who was he meant to kill this time?

“Just doing my job,” Jorg said plainly.

If not for Yime, he would have remained locked here. He was not aware of it yet.

They exited the door, frequency reverting to what Makun was used to. He had returned. Then they walked through the corridor, past the metal doors that hummed and rattled, past the dim bulbs hanging from the ceiling, their footsteps echoing in the confined space.

Makun followed close behind, still processing everything Jorg had said. They reached the stairs Jorg had descended earlier, wide concrete steps leading upward, and began to climb. One floor. Two floors. The air grew lighter. The oppressive weight of the dungeon faded with each step.

Upstairs they were greeted by the sight of Mark, who was waiting for Jorg. “Sir, an urgency. We discovered traces of mystic fighting at 47 Osapa Street, Lower City.” His voice was tight, controlled. “The apartment was torn apart. Furniture overturned, walls cracked, blood on the floor. Signs of at least three practitioners, maybe four. Heavy spiritual residue. Whoever was there, they didn’t leave quietly.”

Mark shifted from Jorg to Makun.

He assessed Makun and noticed he was already a second-grade Initiate. His eyes widened slightly. His jaw tightened.

How?How did he improve so fast in just a few hours?

Mark had seen him this morning, barely holding himself together, fresh from initiation, first-grade at best. Now, standing in front of him, the spiritual pressure radiating from Makun was different. Stronger,Denser. The Route Core had grown.

Mark was stuck at the third grade of Initiation for all the time he had been active. He had not made that jump yet to advance to Apprentice.

He knew the reason why. From the beginning, he knew that he was not apt as a warrior. He was more of an Architect. He had also been told so by his mentor. But he had wanted to be on field and chose the Route of a warrior.

Consequences. He could not see fit with a sub-route. He had some idea. It was elemental, but the weakest level of it. Now he was stuck, and had not been able to advance.

He gritted his teeth, his heart in pain.

He had suffered for so long, but someone who just got initiated advanced in a span of a day.

While he was full of thought about Makun, Makun was stuck on Osapa Street, Lower City.

47 Osapa Street, Lower City. 47Osapa Street. 47Osapa… Zuri.

That was where Zuri lived.

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