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Planet Ignis | Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-02-10 12:08:45 +0000 UTC...the first truth taught in the simulators.
We teach it early because it encapsulates our way of life. We burn our lives away for the sake of others. This is not about trading our survival for the tribe’s comfort; it is about exchanging our comfort for the tribe’s survival. Thus, I propose we slightly adjust the wording of this truth from “Burn the heat for the greater warmth” to “I burn my warmth for the greater heat.” Shifting to the first person will help this truth resonate more deeply with our people. Another possible implication of this...
From “A Proposal for the Review of the Nine Truths” by Trother, the Wise
“Welcome to the Collegium, children. My name is Trother, and I will be your Lit.” Trother noticed the fascination in the Reds’ eyes, particularly their awe at his bald head and wrinkles, but he chose to ignore it.
“Let me ask you: Have you ever wondered why you don’t call us teachers? Why does the tribe call us Lit?” He saw them frown and exchange confused looks.
“There is much to learn from the origin of words,” he continued. “We are called the Lit because we aim not just to pass knowledge to you, but to shed light on your lives.” He paused, giving them a moment to absorb the words. These young flames, he thought, will be the foundation of the tribe someday.
“Ignis is a dark place. We want to enlighten you on an emotional and existential level. We want to help you become bright, strong adults. Please, from now on, do not hesitate to seek me out if you need anything. Sacrificing our lives for the good of others goes against our instincts. Feelings of sadness or confusion are normal. Whenever you feel this way, please talk to me. My door is always open.”
He cleared his throat, noticing the slight catch in his voice. I’m becoming sentimental, he thought. “Now, we will proceed with your evaluation. Step forward as I call your name.” He looked at his list. “Bryner.”
The red-haired child stepped forward, eyes wide.
“Show me your wrist. Don’t be afraid. The nanite will only poke you. You’ll hardly feel anything.”
Bryner hesitantly extended his hand. Trother noted the same hesitation he had shown at the rekindling yesterday. He released the tiny sphere, which rolled over to the boy’s wrist, punctured the skin, and extracted a small sample. Bryner yelped, making the other children laugh nervously. Moments later, the nanite’s light glowed orange.
“Next,” Trother called, repeating the process with each child. One by one, the nanite assessed their physiques, returning various shades of orange. Some of the oranges were darker, hinting at a stronger constitution; others were lighter.
Halfway through the line, a freckled, green-eyed girl’s results shone with a bright yellow. Sylar, off duty as a Battery, let out an appreciative grunt, while Sywel mimicked him, still carefully feeding Trother her Longevity. Trother allowed himself a quick grin but kept moving, completing each child’s evaluation with steady efficiency.
At the end of the line, the boy he had noticed yesterday at the rekindling stood alone. Trother glanced down at the thin slab of metal in his hand. “Eli, step forward.”
Eli’s skin was a deep brown, his hair dark as night. Something in the boy’s movement—the way he walked with silent, efficient grace—reminded Trother of Naiara. The boy’s presence was quiet yet captivating, almost as if his movements deflected attention rather than attracted it.
Trother stretched out his hand. “Show me your wrist, Eli.” The boy complied, unfazed as the nanite punctured his skin.
But this time, the nanite took longer to analyze the sample. After a few moments, it displayed an intermittent array of colors: gray and blue, gray and blue, gray and blue.
Trother heard Sylar gasp behind him. Sywel, distracted by her husband’s uncharacteristic sound, opened her eyes, and when she saw the nanite shining blue, her red Burst flared. Near the center of her arm, flashes of orange and even hints of a dull yellow pulsed sporadically.
Trother shot her a warning look, his expression stern. She blushed, took deep breaths, and forced her Burst down to a steadier output. The color in her Burst was still slightly unsteady, but no orange or yellow appeared again. Efficiency, he thought, a mantra repeating in his mind. Always efficiency. He took note of the children’s glances, but thankfully, none of them seemed to have noticed the exchange.
Sylar’s involuntary gasp and the unusual colors in Eli’s results sparked the children’s curiosity. Trother raised a hand, quieting their whispers with a single gesture. He stole a glance at Eli, expecting pride or curiosity, but instead, the boy’s expression was calm, his gaze steady. Then, to Trother’s surprise, Eli glared at Sywel, mimicking Trother’s own earlier fury. Trother nodded approvingly, an understanding passing between them.
“Back in line, Eli.” Then, addressing the whole class: “Everyone, please stay in line while I record all of your results.”
Once he ensured the children were quiet and attentive, Trother gestured for Sylar to join him, pulling him aside for a hushed conversation.
“Sylar, please ask the nanite for the individual parameters instead of the final average.”
“Of course, sir,” Sylar replied.
He activated a Perception Burst, his eyes warming as his pupils lit red and flashed at a rapid frequency. The nanite responded in kind, communicating in Ignian. The entire exchange lasted less than two seconds, but a detailed conversation had just occurred between Sylar and the nanite. Trother observed without reaction; any Orange could use Perception or speak in Ignian.
“Sir, here are the parameters:
Body Mass – gray
Height – gray
Metabolism – blue minus
Predicted IQ – Blue
Predicted EQ – gray
“Sir,” Sylar whispered with awe, “this child is a Blue! A genius!”
Trother raised an eyebrow, reminding Sylar why they were speaking quietly. Sylar quickly softened his voice. “Sir, isn’t it true that there hasn’t been a Blue since Brodnir?”
“There hasn’t been a final average Blue since Brodnir became King,” Trother replied. “But it’s not unusual to see blue grades in specific parameters.” Trother himself had blue marks in his file. “Still, it hints at significant potential.”
Sylar frowned. “But gray? This is my first time seeing it. What does it mean?”
Trother looked at the nanite’s report thoughtfully, then glanced over at Eli, who was watching them with quiet curiosity. “Gray,” he said slowly, “is uncommon. It suggests an unknown factor—something we may not fully understand yet.”
Sylar nodded, though his confusion remained. “And this unknown factor—is it dangerous?”
Trother’s gaze drifted back to Eli, who stood in line, completely still. “Perhaps,” he replied. “Or perhaps it’s simply a strength we haven’t learned to recognize yet. Either way, the Fahrenheits have found themselves a diamond in the rough.”
Sylar’s eyes widened, realizing the gravity of Trother’s words. “I’ll get the full report from the nanite, sir.”
Trother nodded. “Good. I need it before the interviews are over. And instruct the nanite to proceed to Faren to transmit this class’s physique evaluation.”
“Yes, sir!”
As he watched Sylar hurry off to fulfill the task, Trother took one last look at Eli. A diamond in the rough, he mused, his mind already shifting to the future. Let’s see what you’re made of.
Sylar hurried off to the side chamber annexed to the theater, the teacher’s room. Shortly after entering, a faint phantom warm red glow showed traces of a lightning-fast conversation in Ignian between man and machine.
