**BOOM!**
The school laboratory exploded, glass shattering, fire climbing the walls, a deafening alarm blaring.
Students ran screaming, teachers evacuating, black smoke billowing from the windows.
"WHAT IS THIS!?" The Headmistress shouted in the courtyard. "Who was responsible for setting the fire!?"
Everyone looked at him, in the corner with a briefcase, running towards the arriving firefighters.
A teacher grabbed his arm.
"Honestly, Marcell... this is the fifth ti this has happened..."
"I just wanted to test it!" Marcell defended himself, his eyes gleaming feverishly. "What if I could create a portal? But then I would be in paradox with the portal paradox! Would it really be us? Or copies?"
He gestured frantically.
"Because if matter reorganizes itself at its destination, technically the molecules are new, so would consciousness be transferred or replicated? And if it’s replicated, which is the original? And if there is no original, we are all valid, which ans that..."
"MARCELL!" The professor pressed his temples to his face.
The principal appeared, a stern woman of about fifty, dark suit, tired expression.
The professor withdrew.
"Take ho, Marcell."
Marcell lowered his head, anger and sadness mixed, for being misunderstood, for what he had done.
The other students’ stares at him, fear, anger, contempt.
Journalists arriving, surrounding students:
"It was Marcell again..."
"Last ti he burned the classroom. This ti it was the whole school!"
"He’s dangerous!"
The principal was already getting into the car. Marcell wanted to say sothing...
She raised her hand. "No, Marcell."
They arrived at the apartnt, a sowhat poor neighborhood, an old building, third floor without an elevator.
"I’m ho, Mom!" Marcell said, entering.
His mother was watching the news on the small TV: a school on fire, students saying Marcell was responsible.
She stood up. "Marcell..."
He found the principal behind him.
"Oh, my son..."
"Mom, I..."
"Go to your room, Marcell."
"Mom!"
"MARCELL! Go to your room!"
Marcell left his backpack and went, closed the door, and sat leaning against it.
The room was full of papers, formulas, diagrams, impossible sches stuck to the walls, the floor, the bed.
He stood up, sighed, and opened the door a little to listen.
"Madam..." the principal began, "...I understand that Marcell is... special. But he’s still a child. A child who blew up five laboratories in three different schools."
"He’s a genius!" the mother defended. "You just need... proper guidance!"
"Guidance that this school can’t provide," the principal said firmly. "He will be expelled, madam. And frankly... I recomnd finding a special institution. For children with... different needs."
"We don’t have the money for that!"
"Then perhaps hoschooling..."
"I work twelve hours a day! How am I going to..."
Voices rising.
Marcell slamd the door shut, furious with himself.
"It’s the fifth school... the fifth!"
He punched the wall.
"Mother doesn’t have money. I barely knew my father... he died when I was three. There’s no way. There’s no solution."
He paced the room, stepping on his own papers.
"They don’t understand! I’m a GENIUS! I’M A GENIUS!"
He shouted at the wall.
"I see patterns that nobody else sees! I understand systems that professors take years to comprehend! I could revolutionize science, but they treat like a problem!"
He paused, looking at the scattered papers.
"I can prove it... I can..." An idea sparked in him.
"What if... what if I take the details of my invention to a college? To a science institute? They’ll recognize ! They’ll give a scholarship! They’ll..."
He frantically began grabbing the papers, putting them in a folder, organizing schematics of the modified console that was his next experint.
"I’m going to prove it to this world!"
He opened the window. "I’m going to prove it..."
His mother entered the room seconds later, saw the open window, the curtain fluttering.
She peeked. Marcell was running three floors below.
"MARCELL!" She scread. "My son!"
The mother ran down the stairs to look for her son. "Where did he go? It’s getting late..."
Marcell ran through the alleys of his neighborhood, briefcase under his arm, console in his backpack, blind with determination.
"Physics Institute on Rue Monge... if I run, I’ll get there before closing ti..."
He turned the corner...
Papers and briefcase flew past him.
**SCREEEECH.**
Sudden braking.
**THUD.**
...
"MY GOD! A kid was run over! He’s bleeding a lot! His skull!"
"I know him... it’s Marcell! The one from the school that caught fire!"
"Call an ambulance!"
Marcell on the ground, blood streaming, blurred vision, papers scattered on the street.
"I... just want to prove it to the world..." he thought weakly. He saw his mother’s smile, a mory from when he was little, her saying he was special.
"Mother... mother..."
Darkness.
Marcell opened his eyes.
Emptiness all around, pink and blue neon pulsing, nonexistent but solid ground.
Ahead: a throne, and seated upon it: a woman of impossible beauty, golden robes, eyes that saw through everything... it was Chronia.
"And so, Marcell...?"
"WHERE AM I!?" He scread, looking around desperately. "All I rember is..." He touched his own head; he had no injuries.
"Oh my God, I’m dead!" he panicked. "And what about my mother!? She was looking for ! Could you give back, please!? Just a little! I need to tell her that..."
He fell to his knees. "I’m not finished! I haven’t proven anything yet! I’m a genius, but nobody knows! I need to go back! PLEASE!"
Chronia smiled, not cruelly, but knowingly.
"Yes and no. You didn’t die, Marcell... yet."
"What do you an?"
[Haru] I still haven’t agreed...
[Genius]...you don’t know how many of us are in the Squad...
Genius turned to him.
[Haru] You also don’t know how many of us are in my squad."
"I hope he doesn’t have the skill to read truths," Haru thought...
They arrived at the new room, smaller, more intimate.
"Sit down." Flavius ordered.
They both sat on opposite sofas.
"Explain yourselves better."
"Well, it so happens that Haru and I were apprentices of the sa master on Mount..."
"Gar." Flavius interrupted. "Haru hasn’t existed in this world for that long... I did the math the last ti I talked to him..."
"What!?" Genius exclaid in astonishnt.
"You’re a Gar." Flavius said calmly. "If you stand up, I’ll blow both your heads off."
"Damn it!... So this guy already told Flavius that he’s a Gar..." Genius analyzed.
Haru wanted to argue...
"Honestly, Mr. Haru..." Flavius continued, "...I don’t want to believe you’re a bad person. Neither do you, Mr. Genius. Or whatever the na of that soul inside you is."
"He knows about transmigration... what else did this guy reveal about us?" Genius thought.
"Aren’t you afraid that our death will cause problems for you?" Genius asked. "Didn’t you ever think that I was never alone?"
"I did." Flavius smiled. "But you’re not the only one with people by your side." "I know how strong you two are."
He paused. "Spoiler: even if you joined forces, you wouldn’t stand a chance against ."
"What do you want!?" Haru asked.
"Knowledge."
"Knowledge..." Haru repeated.
"What kind of knowledge?" Genius asked curiously.
"Knowledge that brings riches to the Elegantius house."
Flavius stood up, walking around the room.
"While the fools want to eliminate you, I want to take advantage of you. Just like Baron Valtherion did with Haru, simply have a Gar as his daughter’s bodyguard."
Flavius looked at them...
"Gars are at the top of the chain these days. Such that pronouncing the na is forbidden.... Making enemies of them is sheer stupidity."
"And taking us hostage in exchange for knowledge that brings money is intelligence?" Haru asked...
"Well, you’re not exactly hostages yet..."
"Yes." Genius comnted, laughing. "It’s truly intelligence..."
Flavius continued: "Mr. Genius brought tal prosthetics, sothing that’s proving very lucrative for the Genials house. And I want that wealth for myself too."
"So it’s the Genials house that’s making these prosthetics... how intelligent this guy is," Haru thought indignantly.
Flavius’s eyes glead, pure lust for gold, for power, for being on top.
"Imagine... if I have two Gars providing innovations. I beco untouchable. Rich as Aethron. More powerful than the nobles of the Capital."
He smiled greedily. "You are walking gold mines."
"However..." Haru said, "...it doesn’t work that way." "We can always pass on this knowledge to you, but we always need a guarantee that we won’t be bothered."
"A scared gar... Why is that?"
Genius smiled, looking at Yukihi beside Haru.
"Oh, I understand! But I still think this attachnt to programming is foolish..."
Haru ignored Genius.
"We make pacts. Of course." Flavius pointed to Haru’s ring. "Like the one you have on your ring..."
```
[NEGOTIATION IN PROGRESS]
◊ Flavius wants: Knowledge for wealth
◊ Genius revealed: Brought tal prosthetics to Genials family
◊ Haru’s weakness: Yukihi (noticed by Genius)
◊ Flavius: Greedy but strategic
◊ Next: Pact terms discussion
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[NEGOTIATION IN PROGRESS]
◊ Flavius wants: Knowledge for wealth
◊ Genius revealed: Brought tal prosthetics to Genials family
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