Chapter 2 - Gazing Down

Zenith began to speak without missing a beat. "A resonance frequency is what researchers of the Materian Federation, Eltanian Empire, and Retoran Union have dubbed as the frequency of a soul and the universe we live in. When the frequency of the soul is aligned to the universe, it allows an evolution on a spiritual or biological level, enabling the individual to have abilities that seemingly defy common sense."

His teacher nodded in approval, then replied, "Well, you have a good understanding. Give me examples of abilities."

Zenith continued, "Although not every Resonance will grant an ability, it allows the individual to at least tap into the energy of their body—their spiritual force—which becomes accessible to them, letting them from Resonance magic or Runes for short: Lightning Bolt Rune, Shield Rune, Rock Wall Rune, depending on their mastery and hard work."

His teacher chuckled and spoke up. "That's just the basic stuff. Tell me what the real deal is." She nearly demanded.

Zenith nodded. "Very rarely, upon a resonance awakening or through hard work and training, someone is able to truly unlock their resonance—a manifestation of their soul, their state of mind, their destiny and existence which defines their inner self. Celestial Peron, a leader of the Federation's Relic Syndicate, is known for his fiery temperament and love of warfare as well as boundless aggression. This seems to have manifested the resonance ability for him known as 'Burning Ablaze,' a Fire-type resonance ability of spiritual augment that he has honed, mastered, and evolved to become one of the Relic Syndicate's 5 Expansion Force leaders."

His teacher, listening in approval, smiled. "Very good. Tell me, what do you think of the Relic Syndicate? The work they do is important, enough so that the other races have their own equivalents. By discovering the ancient ruins and structures of the Originators, we better understand everything around us."

Zenith gave it a little thought. "I think they're not bad." His sentence was simple.

His teacher's right eye twitched as a vein pressed from under her forehead. She smacked her black rod against her desk, causing Zenith to shiver in fear. "Idiot! Just 'not bad'? Okay then, here's the deal!" She opened her drawer and took out a small card-like tag, giving it to Zenith.

"The Relic Syndicate may be out of your league, and the military are just the cleanup force, but you can at least join the Federation's Relic Hunter Society, affiliated with the Relic Syndicate, and search for things to sell them. You get to visit the safe, looked-over Ancient sites and might get lucky and make it big, selling items you find back to the Federation."

Zenith pursed his lips, a little unwilling. "M...Miss Wells, I don't want to be a scavenger..." He complained, to which she irritatebly tapped her desk with the rod several times. "Stop being picky... this is the best I can do for you," she mumbled.

Zenith sighed quietly. He felt guilty; if anything, his teacher was like another mother figure to him, an elder sister. She had always done her best and never mistreated him. "Seila, thank you. I'm grateful. I'll take it and give it some thought." He spoke out her name and took the ID tag.

His teacher, Seila Wells, smiled approvingly. "Zenith, I'm not kidding when I speak about life's cruelty. People like you and me are at the bottom. Clair comes from a family of prestige and wealth; her views are not just observations but ingrained into her by those around her. Don't get into trouble and pick your fights like you have continued to do. This is something I'm especially proud of you for."

Zenith nodded. "Life's unfair. Sometimes it's simpler for me to just empty my head, but I guess even that isn't enough." He bowed to her again, turning to leave the classroom. Seila gave him a bitter smile, silently watching him leave. She had done all she could for him; she wasn't as well off either. If it wasn't for her dead father's status as a hero and her own hard work, she would probably never have become a lower academy teacher.

Zenith began walking towards his residential area. As he did, he looked up and saw a tall, lanky student waiting for him, waving. "You're late! Did you get yelled at again?" The young man laughed, pushing up his glasses with a goofy look.

Soon, the two began to walk together. This was Zenith's only friend other than his remaining family and his teacher—Kalen, someone he had known for the past 8 years. "Hey, I've got a question I've been wanting to ask you for years. Don't be annoyed, okay?" Hearing this, Zenith quivered. "Brother, sorry, I don't swing that way. I like girls!" Kalen shook his head with a scoff-like laugh. "Not that! Geez. I like girls too, preferably ones with large chests..." Hearing this, the two seemed to nod approvingly as if it were some male tradition.

"What I mean is, why do you always look down at the ground when you walk? You need more confidence! Don't be afraid!" Kalen uttered.

Zenith this time was the one to feel a little offended. "Eh? Confidence? If I didn't have confidence, I'd have never smacked those two upperclassmen to save your hide. It's not that I don't have confidence."

Kalen, hearing this, remembered that time years ago. They were both really young, and it was like a scene from some movie—being beaten and robbed of a toy he had by two upperclassmen. Zenith, out of nowhere, had rushed over with a murderous look, knocking one out with a wooden board and with the same one almost breaking the other's leg. It had taken two teachers to stop him. He would have been expelled had it not been for Kalen's family putting deep pressure on them. In the end, the bullies were transferred to another academy.

"Why do you do it then? Habit?" Kalen asked.

Zenith gave him an answer. "I'm avoiding ants."

Kalen looked a little dumbfounded. "Avoiding ants? What? That's dumb... who cares, squash away."

Zenith quietly chuckled. "Imagine if the roles were reversed. Would you like to be squashed or be in fear constantly while doing your own thing, until something you could only describe as a god steps on you? Wouldn't you like to be treated with some respect and dignity?"

Kalen gave it some thought, clicking his tongue and grumbling. "That's a good point. You're too philosophical for me; reminds me of my dad... Eh... speaking of which." Soon, the two glanced over at a sleek black hover car that was parked ahead of them to the side. A middle-aged man in a clean suit was waiting beside it.

"Young Master, your father has requested your presence early as there is a family event tonight. We need to get you ready," the man said.

Kalen sighed quietly. "Need a ride back?" he spoke to Zenith.

Zenith shook his head. "I like to walk. Clears my head."

Soon afterwards, Kalen left with his butler. In truth, Kalen was from one of the city colony's largest mining companies. This identity, though, was kept hushed for privacy purposes, as Kalen didn't want others to see him as some rich kid. It was also the reason why his family was able to exert such pressure on the academy for Zenith's sake.

Zenith quietly continued his way back home. He lived in an almost slum-like residential area, though people who lived here didn't cause trouble for each other. In fact, troublemakers were taken care of, one way or another. So Zenith had no trouble going home.

The colony city itself was one of many on this continent, which itself was one of three continents. All together, it was home to thousands of cities, each with their own politics and connections, and then the federation government for this planet above those cities. But that itself was simply a drop in an ocean. This planet was one of many in this system, which was one of many systems in a region of the Highwake galaxy that the federation ruled a part of.

Though this was still the galaxy the three races shared, and it hadn't even been close to fully explored. So even at their level, Zenith considered this ocean to be a drop in a larger ocean. The Materian Federation, The Holy Eltanian Empire, and The Retoran Beastkin Union—Zenith felt like he had some better understanding compared to those his age. While others wanted to party and enjoy their lives after turning 20, he hadn't had that luxury. What happened to him in the past would always take a mental toll on him.

"I'm home," he spoke to himself.