Chapter 148: Welcome To The Real World

Deacon seemed eager to move to another topic, which suited Finn fine.

But before Finn could ask his next question — about what they did here all day, or what Thalia was looking for in that book — Deacon spoke first.

“You must be reeling right now,” he said casually. “You’re doing a remarkable job covering it up, but…” He tapped the corner of his golden eye. “These can’t be deceived.”

Finn immediately became wary.

Deacon walked closer, his expression curious rather than hostile, but Finn felt his guard raise nonetheless.

I was right about this guy… He’s the most dangerous one here!

“That short exchange,” Deacon continued, “that split second when you seemed to follow Casmir’s movement despite the space widening between you…” He tilted his head. “That’s what’s causing your disorientation right now, isn’t it?”

Finn kept silent.

But Deacon continued as if he didn’t need a response. As if the answer was already visible to him.

“You’re crazy,” he said, though there was admiration in his tone. “Trying to compress something like that into a single-use combat spell. That kind of perception… using your concept to see into the hidden truths of reality… It’s not meant to be used in bursts.”

He stepped closer, and those golden eyes seemed to glow brighter.

“If you’re not careful, you’ll fry your brain with overuse. The human mind isn’t built to process the world in that state. Not all at once.” He paused meaningfully. “It has to be slowly taught. Gradually conditioned.”

Deacon raised his hand and pointed to his own eyes, to the golden glow that emanated from them.

“Transcendent lesson one, Arros,” he said with an easy smile. “You’re going to need to learn how to forge your eyes to see the world through the lens of your concept. Permanently. Naturally.”

Finn’s attention sharpened despite his lingering disorientation.

“What?”

“Somatic Transmutation,” Deacon said. “The process of reshaping your body to channel your concept more efficiently. For me, it was my eyes. Now they can perceive Truth without me needing to actively invoke my power. It’s passive. Always on.”

He gestured toward Thalia.

“Thalia’s bones have been reinforced with Order. It makes her nearly impossible to injure because her skeleton simply refuses to break properly. Structural integrity enforced at a fundamental level.”

Then he pointed toward where Casmir had left.

“Casmir’s nervous system has been modified to process spatial information faster than normal thought. It lets him manipulate space with the same ease as breathing.”

Deacon’s smile turned slightly sharp.

“But you… using your concept’s vision like that, you’re forcing your brain to process all those branching possibilities at once… you’re basically trying to run before you’ve learned to walk. Your mind isn’t adapted to handle that kind of information load.”

He leaned in slightly.

“So the first thing you need to learn? Is how to forge your eyes to see your concept. How to make your body capable of handling what your power demands.”

“How?” Finn asked with a voice that tried not to sound too eager.

Deacon’s smile widened.

“Well,” he said, “that’s what we’re all here for, isn’t it? To learn. To grow. To push the boundaries of what’s possible.”

He glanced toward Thalia.

“Thalia was just looking for the primer text. The one that covers the basics of Somatic Transmutation theory.” He looked back at Finn. “You’ll start there. Learn the principles. Then we’ll see about reshaping those eyes of yours.”

Thalia approached them, the book now open in her hands. She stopped in front of Finn and turned it toward him, revealing a page filled with dense text and anatomical diagrams.

“Here,” she said simply.

Finn took the book, and his eyes immediately scanned through the content. The diagrams showed cross-sections of eyes, nervous systems, skeletal structures, all annotated with notes about mana flow, concept integration, physiological transmutation rates…

He became completely engrossed, flipping through the next few pages rapidly, skimming over the theoretical framework that underpinned everything Deacon had just described.

After about thirty seconds, he stopped himself reluctantly and closed the book with a soft thud.

“Alright,” he said. “I have questions.”

Deacon’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course you do.”

But Finn’s expression had gone serious.

He was finally here now. Thalia and the others had been… fairly hospitable, explaining things to him and whatnot.

But now it was time to ask the hard questions.

“Why am I here?” he asked directly. “What’s our role as Transcendents? Why is our existence being kept secret from everyone?” He paused, then added, “And how long have Transcendents even existed?”

He glanced down at the book in his hands, then muttered almost offhandedly, “There are already books written about Transcendent abilities. That implies some kind of established history…”

Before either Thalia or Deacon could respond, another voice spoke from across the chamber.

“There is no history.”

Finn’s head whipped around.

His passive error sense had caught something at the last second. A presence that shouldn’t have been there, or rather, had been there all along but somehow overlooked. The dark-skinned woman with amber eyes was still in the room, leaning against the far wall.

How did I forget about her? Finn thought with a flash of irritation at himself.

But then he quickly realized that it must be her concept. Something related to hiding. Being overlooked. Forgotten.

But not all three of them had been taken off guard.

Finn could see that Deacon, for one, didn’t look surprised at all. The bastard had been aware of her presence the entire time.

The woman pushed off from the wall and walked toward them with measured steps.

“My name is Keeva,” she nodded at Finn.

She didn’t bother stating her concept, but she did answer Finn’s earlier observation. “There’s no such thing as a history of Transcendents. We are the only Transcendents. The first ever of our kind in the history of Astoria.”

She gestured at the book in Finn’s hands.

“That was written by Casmir, in conjunction with Deacon. Based on their own experiments and discoveries.” She paused. “There are also books from Transcendents of other nations. We share information when it’s… beneficial.”

Finn’s eyebrows shot up.

“Other nations?”

Thalia was the one who answered this time, her gray eyes fixed on him with something that might have been amusement.

“Did you think we were the only ones?” she asked. “Just six of us, plus you making seven?”

She crossed her arms.

“Of the three major kingdoms and twelve medium-power kingdoms, there are twenty-two Transcendents in existence right now. Including you.”

Finn frowned.

For whatever reason, he had thought that memory of Arros in Brambleton — the celebration of Transcendent Heroes that honored a score of Transcendents who had done something heroic, was a far off memory.

He thought he was at the very early years of anything pertaining to Transcendents.

He wasn’t wrong. But he wasn’t entirely right either.

It turned out there were Twenty-two Transcendents in existence right now. Twenty-two different people who could manipulate aspects of reality to their will unlike normal Arcanists.

And apparently they were all aware of each other, communicating and sharing ideas across countries?

That number bordered on way too much for such a level of silence about their existence.

Not even one kingdom had slipped up and revealed them at all?

Even with the Agents who did information manipulation and clean-up, something — rumors at least — should have been in circulation by now.

The only thing Finn knew that could force humans to cooperate on such a level… with such tight-knit solidarity, was a common goal.

And not just any common goal, but one that threatened the very existence of everyone involved, nations as a whole.

Deacon stared at Finn, and his smile turned knowing, as if he could see Finn’s brain cogs spinning.

“Welcome to the real world, Arros,” he said softly. “The one that exists beneath the one everyone else sees.”

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