Metaphysical Education

“Liberty cannot be established without morality, nor morality without faith.”

-Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America Volume I

07:45 am EDT

September 9th 2118AD

Main Field-Hamilton-Post Ontario

Gathered on the field, former home of the Mcmaster Marauders, was all 232 first year students, in theory the graduating class of 2123. From his place amongst them Ian could barely make out some figures standing atop a stage, the faculty who would serve as their home room teachers for the first semester. A hush fell over the crowd as a man took to the podium.

Dr. Smith watched as Principle Xi took to the stage, as evident that his hair appeared to have been freshly dyed black, today was important even by the standards of a Shang River Bureaucrat. The next generation of magicians were assembled on the field before them, and the contest of influence between Xi and Smith was about to begin anew.

As always, Xi would have the first and most all encompassing move, “Future magicians! Today is the first day of the rest of your life!” He let that proclamation hang in the air for a few seconds. “That is what one of the degenerate retards would have said during the prior age of decadence!” He smiled as the expressions of the students hardened. “For it was the lack of vision of those charged with the education of their successors that lead to the downfall and total collapse of the multipolar world! I do not intend for the Order to collapse, so I will take every measure to ensure that you graduate knowing the full responsibilities owed by every magician to the Order! Now let me be clear, those responsibilities are many, just think how privileged you are to be attending such a prestigious and peaceful school rather than trying to enter the workforce, dying at the hands of one of the barbaric insurrectionists, or worse yet slowly rotting away in the drug ridden slums of Melbourne! Keep track of your blessings as the order intends to be repaid in full!” He leaned into the podium, “Vice Principle Hung will introduce our opening exercise.” He leaned back and stepped aside to allow a second Chinese man to take the podium, and Smith had to suppress a grimace as he knew what this man brought the children.

From where he stood Ian could just barely see the new man take the podium, “Students, tell me which of you have previously heard of the Jungian Shadow?” There was a low murmur across the field but from what Ian could see no one raised their hand. The man cleared his throat, “Good.” He made a sweeping hand gesture and a wave of bright blue energy washed over the students, the world warped around Ian and the next thing he knew he and the other students were in the reception area of some building.

“Welcome to Landmark Place, 100 Main Street East, at 43 stories it’s the tallest building in Hamilton by a large margin. Your task is simply to make it to the roof.”  His words sounded over the intercom. The task seemed simple enough, the students quickly formed an orderly line and some students who evidently had some leadership skills were organizing groups of students to go up the elevators rather than taking the stairs. As Ian made his way to the back of the line he noticed Rin in the line and gave her a friendly wave. A loud crack sounded out and her body dropped to the floor.

[weabtastic op]

More and more people dropped, and his now ringing ears were unable to tell where the shots were coming from. Desperately looking around his eyes settle on a figure standing across the street from the main entrance. A bandana and glasses obscuring his identity, a rifle aimed intently at them, and a trench coat to conceal any additional weapons and armour that he may have had on his person.

Ducking behind a large potted plant, he watched as the orderly procession broke down into a chaotic panic. Was this some fucked up test? Had the rebels decided to try killing their future enemies in the crib? Was this just a random act of violence, post-Ontario wasn’t as saturated with guns as post-America but it was still far from a disarmed territory. He was torn away from his thoughts when an elevator door slammed shut on a student who had had one leg through the doorway. Judging by the the screams of those inside the elevator and how the trapped student was pulled to the ground and his leg torn off the elevator’s cable’s had been cut. A loud crash sounded as the boy spasmed and blood flowed freely from his stump of a leg. The shooting stopped, guessing that the gunman was reloading Ian made a break for the stairwell. In his haste he tripped over a body, something the probably saved his life seeing as how the first shot taken after the pause passed through the space he would have been occupying had he not tripped. Desperately he crawled across the ground, trying his best to think about what he would do once he reached it rather than about the blood that was now covering the ground.

He reached the stairwell and stood up, a concrete wall now between him and the shooter. Up or down? The idea of an outsider having prepared the elevator trap ahead of time was absurd, so it was reasonable to assume that this was meant to be some kind of test. Therefore going downstairs when the principle had ordered them to the roof would likely only lead to some sort of death trap. Therefor the only option was up. The students who had made it out of lobby were far ahead of him, so he ran as fast as he could up the stairs.

As he climbed he heard screaming, and then the sounds of feet running up stairs stopped, except for his own and… a pair bellow him. Regardless of whether this was another student or the shooter Ian had no intention of waiting to find out. He reached the 40th floor landing and saw why there had been screaming. A mass of razor wire filled half the landing, and at least three people had been unable to stop their panicked sprint on time, or the the person behind them hadn’t stopped on time. Averting his eyes from the horror he looked for any way to proceed, seeing no way around the deadly obstacle he turned his attention to the door that lead to the rest of the 40th floor.

Darkness, that’s what lay beyond the door. The lights were all off, the curtains all drawn and the emergency lights all smashed. After barring the door with a filing cabinet he felt around on the wall until he found a light switch. Flicking it on and off to no avail, evidently this floor’s power had been cut. He stumbled around in the dark, judging by the desks and cubicles  the floor seemed to have been used as an office, evidently it had been abandoned in some haste judging by the amount of stuff left haphazard on the floor. He made his way to the curtain, pulling up just a corner to let some light in in the room he was stunned by what saw and had to his hand into his mouth to muffle his gasp. The crap on the floor he had been stepping on was yet more students. He dropped the corner of the curtain once he realized that there was at least one killer on this floor. He sat in the dark, opening up the curtains would just give away his position, at least this way the cat and mouse game could go on for a bit. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and he was was able to confirm a detail that he thought he saw during his brief glimpse of the bodies. They had indeed been cut rather than shot. He began to panic and had to restrain himself from sobbing. Being shot was one thing, but being hacked to pieces, was this an 80s horror flick or reality? This wasn’t even a game of cat and mouse, it was just nauseating drawn out death sentence.

A chill ran up his spine as a thought entered his mind. Who said he had to be the mouse? He crept slowly through the office, checking each desk to see if it had anything that could function as a weapon, a knife, a pair of scissors, a sufficiently hefty paperweight, anything. So far the best he had been able to find was a well sharpened pencil. Continuing on he was careful to also be mindful of his surroundings and how much noise he made, he was going to be the one getting the drop on this ass, not the other way around. He eventually found an unlocked room inside he found a nicer office, perhaps that of the manager of this operation. He immediately set about digging through the draws of the large desk that dominated the room. He allowed himself a brief chuckled when he found an unopened wine bottle in one desk drawer. Blunt a club while intact, a dagger if the first swing doesn’t take, the perfect weapon, and it would give him a bit more reach with his contact magic, he stood up, now ready to get the drop on the killer, who was standing right in the doorway as Ian hadn’t closed the door behind him.

Ian had lost any element of surprise he had hoped to have in this confrontation, and looking at the cleaver-like Dadao his opponent carried his own wine bottle felt like a joke of a weapon. His heart plummeted deeper and deeper into despair, it was all over for him. The chill that had been running up his spine transformed into the sensation of an icy cold hand on his shoulder and suddenly his despair gave way to a literally burning rage. The room was illuminated and the killer took a step back from the inferno that emanated from Ian’s body.

Then the sprinkler system turned on and Ian’s power went up in steam. His opponent didn’t seem to be much better though, the spray of water had fogged up his glasses and turned his bandana into what was effectively the rag in a waterboarding. Not letting his chance slip, Ian rushed forward and slammed the wine bottle down on the head of the killer who had so graciously bowed down in an attempt to get his face out of the spray. Ian then took up the man’s sword and swung it down upon the man’s neck.

Continuing through the floor, now confident that the threat was dead, or if it wasn’t that his new found sword would suffice. Eventually he found another fancy office, though this one was much worse for wear, a large chunk of the floor and the back wall having fallen away. A rope ladder hung out over the long drop to the street below. A leap of faith that would either be a path that lead to the roof or a trap that snap under his weight sending him falling to the street below. Perhaps still high off his previous victory, he took the leap without second thought. After a few terrifying moments of swinging back and forth in open air, 40 stories above the ground it stopped and he started his climb.

Upon reaching the roof he took a self congratulatory gaze at the horizon. The the west a large highway stretched out to other population centres that used to exist further inland. To the south the massive steel factories that had put the city on the map spewed their smoke, the great culling of the previous century having left them with just enough staff to work for the new order. To the east, Lake Ontario stretched out farther than the eye could see, and upon it’s north shore lay a forest of tall buildings which he could only assume to be Toronto, supposedly one of the former great cities of the world, now uninhabited. To the north, nothing but farms and forests as far as the eye could see. As he admired the view he was startled when two hands grabbed him and threw him from the roof, he never even got to see who did him in.

08:02 am EDT

September 9th 2118AD

GSB 408-Hamilton-Post Ontario

Ian came to in a cold sweat… in a classroom? His first thought was to wonder if he had just fallen asleep in homeroom, but a quick glance around the classroom revealed that everyone was going through the samething. He also noticed Rin, thankfully still alive. “Ah, good to see you’re all with me now.” The man at the front of the room said cheerfully. “I am your homeroom teacher, Mr. Smith, but you may call me Jason. And yes, your current seats are where you will be seated for the rest of the semester. Ian groaned when it hit him that he was seated at the front of the class. “Well now,” Jason began to try to do his best to pace about the front of the room, something made tricky by his limp, “before we go over the information package situated in front of you, I’ll take your questions, as I assume you have plenty.”

“What was that?” Rins voice called out from the back of the room.

“Ms. Ishikawa, I would prefer if you were to raise your hand next time but, what you just experienced was Vice Principle Hung’s mind-prison magic, the ability to lock one or more person’s mind into a semi-lucid dream for a set period of time.” Jason glanced over at the Commissar standing at the back of the class, “It’s a bit too harsh of a first lesson for my tastes, but we’ll cover the precise idea behind it in unit three.”

“Is the clock at the front correct?” A kid a couple seats to the left of Ian asked.

Jason glanced at the aforementioned clock, “Yes, I’m not sure how long your dreams seemed like, but you were indeed only out for 15 minutes.” He then looked back at the clock, “I guess we should move on since I want to start covering some actual curriculum today. There are three parts to the information package in front of you, the first of which is a course syllabus which we will go over shortly, the second part is a series of questions which I expect you to answer tonight and have ready to hand in at the start of class tomorrow, the final part is just a floor map of the General Sciences Building as you guy have no recollection of how you got in here in the first place.”

08:10 am EDT

September 9th 2118AD

Just outside the Ivor Wynne Centre-Hamilton-Post Ontario

Hector stood outside, enjoying the last of the summer air, when he was suddenly smashed to the ground by someone with a large riot shield. “What the fuck Jenkins?!” He screamed.

“Sorry Heck, but we can’t have you skipping class on the first day.” Andrew Jenkins said stoically as he prepared a set of flex cuffs, “I’m actually shocked, not only are you skipping on your first day but you’re skipping gym which you claim to be your favourite class!”

“He’s not skipping dimwit.” The towering muscular mass that was Mr. Grey hollard. At that moment Andrew realized that not 10 meters away the rest of the gym class was mulling about. “We’re locked out of the athletic centre. Now quit abusing my students, I don’t need the competition.”

“Thanks.” Hector said as he got up.

“Now for you Hector, for that wimpy display of martial prowess drop and give me 50!” Mr. Grey ordered.

“Fight me!” Hector shot back and raised his fists.

“Oh I’ve never been happier to have been locked out before.” Mr. Grey stated and assumed a fighting stance.

For a moment the class was stunned, then Adrian flare point out that, “It’s a level six contact fighter vs a level six contact fighter! This is actually hype as fuck!” Immediately the gym class began cheering.

Hector began sizing up his opponent, Mr. Grey was strong, and certainly had a lot more physical strength than him but-

Hector was tackled to the ground and very quickly found himself in a pair of flex cuffs, “Threatening a staff member, now there’s something I can take you in for.”

“Wow what a killjoy.” Mr. Grey remarked as Hector was hauled away.

06:34 am MST

September 9th 2118AD

Foothills of the Rocky Mountians-Post Colorado

Tyton looked up at the wall of rock in the distance as the sun began to shine through the gaps in the mountain range. He had heard in sermon that there had once been a mighty state that ruled both sides of the Continental Divide, a state so mighty that at its apex all the nations of the world came to its capital to beg for treaties and assistance. He also knew that somewhere east of this mountain range was the land that the Prophet Joseph Smith had originally came from. Generations had passed since that state fell from grace and ceased to exist. It’s people had grown too certain of their preeminence and had allowed themselves to become decadent and wicked. As a result they too fell victim to the global hegemon’s rise.

As much as he enjoyed the view, Tyton was here to do more than stare at the mountains and think about what maybe beyond them. He was on sniper duty, providing support for a few assault teams whose mission it was to establish a foothold in the Rockies. His rifle, a significantly modified M1A, shooting at targets up hill would normally be all but impossible, but the fancy scope he had looted of of a regime sniper had eliminated the need for a spotter, and the .338 norma cartridges loaded with a sabot that would release a tiny 4.7mm dart that he had loaded in the magazine basically had a completely flat trajectory. Of course the pathetic wound channels of the round meant that head shots were necessary, but he wasn’t nicknamed Regicide for nothing.

Normal tactical doctrine dictated that attacks be launched with the sun to one’s back, but the issue with that is that the enemy also knows that. As a large helicopter came through a mountain pass Tyton aimed his rifle at the cockpit and carefully followed the computerized scope’s instructions as he adjusted for windage, distance, and lead ahead of his target. He pulled back on the trigger, and a loud crack woke up anyone who was sleeping within 30km. He quickly repositioned himself to a different part of the hill he was on before examining the flaming wreckage, The helicopter had been carrying the morning rotation of soldiers, supplies, and with any luck, some of those magician freaks. The assault had begun and the familiar sound of AR platforms chambered in .264 echoed across the landscape. After about a minute the enemy had finally collected itself enough to mount a defence. A flare shot up the mountain and landed in an area that return fire had been pouring out of, allowing Tyton to target the enemy even though the rising sun had turned the mountain into one big silhouette. First priority was the HMG, after that the commanding officer/grenadier, and after that whoever was stupid enough to try to re-man the HMG.

Tyton was rudely yanked up by his left ankle. A magician, and judging by the charred exterior of his skintight combat suit his had indeed been in the crash. Perhaps he managed to escape and sneak up with some sort of teleportation ability.

Tyton fumbled for his sidearm as the magician swung at him. The blow never connected, much to Tyton’s surprise the torso of his assailant was missing, the head, arms, and legs just frozen in place, glancing back at the mountain he saw an orange tracer hanging in mid air. Looking through the cavity where his assailant's torso had once been he noticed an asian boy in a school uniform standing a way back.

“Hello, are you the one responsible for this?” Tyton asked.

“Yes.”

After a long pause Tyton started, “Well thanks, my name is-”

“Your name is irrelevant, only your skillset is on any worth.”

Tyton frowned, “Are magicians genetically coded to be asses?”

“That is also irrelevant, know that my friend and your masters have been in contact and that in due time we will be conducting a joint operation of sorts.”

“Nice exposition kid, you going to let me down now?” With that Tyton hit the ground in a pile with the magician’s body parts and quickly scrambled to get back into the firing position.

12:15 pm EDT

September 9th 2118AD

Cafeteria-Hamilton-Post Ontario

“So, what do you think of the little shits?” Commissar Caleb asked, looking over the hoard of grade nines trying to figure out where to sit in the cafeteria.

“Oh I think they’re just so cute and innocent.” Mrs. Bovine replied. “They’ll become total shits after the fall tournament, as is always the case.” she elaborated.

“The world is truly upside down!” Mr. Alexard said as he joined the other two on lunch duty.

“How so?” Caleb asked, preparing to execute him should the answer involved criticism of the government.

“Calm down Caleb, I just wrapped up the grade 9 math class I have second period, and Hector Scott was actually quite knowledgeable!” Mr. Alexard explained.

Mrs. Bovine giggled, “That’s hardly surprising, it is his second time in the course, I’m still more shocked that you’re teaching a math class of all things.”

Mr. Alexard groaned, “Yeah, about that-”

“BROTHER!” Everyone in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing to stare at Rin as she ran up to a third year and hugged him.

“Hey Touma who is this little one?” One of the numerous girls who had been hovering around the boy asked.

“Oh it’’s my little sister.” He answered then turned his attention to the girl clinging to him, “Rin it is against social protocol to due this in public.”

Ian, who was sitting not to far away almost choked on his mouthful when his mind wandered over the implications of him specifying in public.

Evidently Rin heard him coughing and turned around, “Oh no Abbott are you ok?” She asked as she ran over.

His coughing fit ended and  he replied “Yeah and why ar-”

“Oh is this a friend of your’s Rin?” Touma asked.

“Oh yes, he’s actually a housemate.” She replied.

Touma’s calm expression turned into a steely cold glare, “Oh really? They’re mixing boys with the girls this year?”

“Well actually I’m the only girl in the house, so I think I’m just overflow.” She replied.

Touma towered over Ian, “Oh? Really? So Abbott, do you think it is appropriate for-”

“Um, before you finish…” Ian began, “Abbott’s my last name, my first name is Ian.”

“Damn it Rin I told you that in the west the first name is the given name, and…” he trailed off and took on a sheepish expression, “Wait, any relation to Haley Abbott?”

“Yeah, she’s my sister.” Before Ian could ask why he wanted to know Touma had abruptly turned on the balls of his feet and walked off.

“So how did you know my given name was Rin?” Rin asked, “Are you a neo-weaboo or something?”

“No, I just realized that Ishkawa couldn’t possibly be a given name.” Ian replied.

12:15 pm EDT

September 9th 2118AD

Office of Dieudonné Guillory-Student Centre-Hamilton-Post Ontario

“So Mr. Abbott, what brings you here.” Dieudonné Guillory said and motioned for the boy to take a seat. “Was Mr. Hung’s spell particularly distressing?”

“No, it’s…” Ian paused. “We have our guidance counselors assigned based on our last names right? So does that mean you counselled for my sister?”

“Yes, I’m very familiar with Ms. Abbott.” He replied.

“Yeah, why are people afraid of her, and by proxy afraid of me.” Ian asked.

Dieudonné Guillory signed, “She got quite strange in her final year.”

“Yeah. What the was with her fighting naked towards the end?” Ian asked.

Dieudonné paused a moment, “Well it’s pretty normal for contact fighters to wear minimalistic clothing to reduce drag and weight while fighting, it could have just been an extension of that, though I can’t really say, she didn’t arrange any appointments after a certain point. Most I can say one way or another is that final year is stressful for everyone, she seems to have taken it pretty badly.”

“Oh ok.” Ian said, then remembered why he came here in the first place. “So Mr. Smith gave us a question as part of the take home portion of the information package and it’s like giving me an existential crisis.”

Dieudonné’s eye twitched as Ian continued, “So an empty out of control trolly is heading towards 3 people tied to the rails, and I and redirect it onto a different line where there’s only one person on the rails.”

Dieudonné burried his face in his hands as Ian explained, “So obviously redirecting it would result in saving a net 2 lives, but by touching switching the path I am involving myself in the situation thus making me resp-”

“No!” Dieudonné said cutting him off, “The correct answer is I have magic I’ll just blow up or otherwise stop the trolley. Mr. Smith is a scientist, he doesn’t care about philosophy. he just wants to know if you can think outside the box.”

“Oh… Huh.” Ian said, looking at the question again. “OOOOOOOOOh.”

[weabtastic ed go]