Chapter 1: Flights of Fancy

“Wow... A peregrine falcon... Those are rare these days...”

 

A boy, couldn't have been very much older than sixteen, exclaimed this the very moment he put the binoculars up to his face and began to watch the birds. He was most certainly excited " seeing a creature like that was a total source of amazement for him, and he took it in it's fullness. With a smile, he slowly put down the binoculars, and pulled out a camera, putting it towards the general direction of the creature, the bird that he had been searching for this whole time...

 

“Come to Adam...” Click. The camera did it's job, and Adam had another photo for his scrapbook. He smiled to himself, before sitting up suddenly. He'd heard something.

 

“Adam! Get here! I need you!”

 

The grey-haired, blue-eyed boy blinked slightly and checked his watch. What the hell? Was he late or what? He sighed, he'd only just started! Picking up his gears, he loaded them into his bags, and stood back up, looking towards the direction of the voice.

 

“Geez. Looks like I'm done for the day.” He turned back to the bird to see if it was still there, and all that remained was the burnt and dessicated branch that he'd seen it perched on. Oh well, at least he'd gotten a photo for his collection... He smiled again, and started to walk slightly faster " his mother hated him to be late...

 

 

“Adam. You certainly took your time.” The boy sighed deeply, and nodded briefly. He didn't need this. He just wanted to get photos. That was all he'd wanted to do, and the f*****g TSC had gone and ruined it for them. He peered at her sheepishy from behind blue eyes, and smiled nervously.

 

“TSC is on it's nightly patrols, and you're out bird watching again? I know how I raised you, but still!” Adam simply nodded in agreement. He didn't need an argument with his mother " she pretty much won every single time. But these days... after they'd heard about his father's death... She looked somewhat sadder. More stressed. He'd guessed that he wasn't helping much, but still. He was no good around the house, far too clumsy.

 

So he did what he could, and that involved keeping out of her way. He yawned, and took a place on the couch. It was 2028, and things were supposed to be good? Bullshit. They were living as if it was 2010. No, 2005. And he hated it. He may have hated TSC, but he would've at least liked to hate TSC in a nice house... He laughed, why was he thinking about this sort of thing? He picked up the remote, and turned on the television. Ah, the nightly news. How... enlightening...

 

Before we begin tonight's news, we regret to inform everybody that TSC's director, Albert Muninsky, has died of lung cancer. Doctors tried all they could to save his life, but they were too late, and the tumor had taken too much of a toll on his body for them to be of any assisstance. So please, I implore all of you " take a moment of silence for the death of this wonderfu- Adam muted the TV.

 

Adam swore, and then smiled.

 

“You hear the news, Mum?”

 

“No, what happened?”

 

“Muninsky's dead.”

 

“Ah, that's good. Now shut up and let me do the work around here.” Adam just laughed, and un-muted the TV.

 

Thank you to all those who gave a moment of their time to mourn Mr Muninsky. Adam sniggered, maybe 100 people in all of this sect? Probably less. Now to tonight's scheduled news breaks. I hope that everybody is inside their houses. We don't want anybody getting hurt by TSC's Guardians.

 

First on tonight's news, a masked gunman attack TSC's main facilities, killing approximately 20 civilians and 15 Guardians before being felled by a small group of Guardians. He is currently under life-support interrogation, and no evidence has been revealed, except for one statement. A video showed up on-screen, Adam directing it to the main section to play it. A man appeared on it. Adam couldn't bear to look at him...

 

He was mangled. His body was in shreds, and his own face was just about gone. There were pieces of dirtied flesh hanging off his bones, already rotting.  He was covered with bullet hole after bullet hole, and each hole had it's own tube poking into it, sucking out the dirty and infected blood and replacing it with TSC's synthetic blood. He looked like a freak from some horror movie that Adam had pirated onto the TV over the past year or so. Adam turned away, it was almost as if he could smell the rotting flesh, or hear the screams that had to be hidden away somewhere inside his head. TSC's interrogation chambers made him hurl every single f*****g time. But he was hoping that he'd find something, anything, that'd lead back to the death of this father...

 

“Why were you in the TSC building?”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to know?”

 

“We would, as a matter of fact.”

 

“Oh, really? Fine. If you must know, I was looking for a small black notebook. A leather one, can't buy 'em anymore.”

 

“Any more details?”

 

“Heheh... Pushing the boundries, are we? Well then. It had a name on the front " maybe you could find it for me. Aaron Koboltz.”

 

“That name is classified information! How did you -” The Guardian raised a hand, and the screen went black. It was gonna be painful for that guy... But the name... Adam simply sat there, mouth gaping. As the rest of the  TV News droned in the background, all Adam Koboltz could do was stare.

 

“Father...”

 

Someone knew about his father... Maybe they'd come after him or his mum next... He closed his eyes, and decided on not thinking about it any longer. He just stood back up, and walked over to his mother, tears forming in his eyes, a rarity for this guy.

 

“They... Someone went to the TSC building. Tried to find his notebook. They might... They might come after us, Mum. I think we should hide for a while.” To his despair, she simply laughed with her annoying, shrill laugh.

 

“Everybody goes and kills people in TSC. It's an almost daily occurrence. What makes you think they were afterhis stuff?”

 

“Because the guy said it. The guy on TV!”

 

“Was this guy in their LSI Unit?”

 

“Yeah...”

 

“He's a goner. Just ignore him.” Adam nodded in agreement, but he was far from convinced. There was something amiss here " something that involved his father, TSC, and maybe even... No, they were just stories, rumours even. He didn't need to think about that right now. All he needed was some sleep. He slowly trudged up the stairs to his room, and slumped onto his bed, not bothering to change.

 

He was asleep within seconds.

 

 

Meanwhile, in the room right next door, Maranda Koboltz was crying. Tears fell from her eyes and washed the floor with salty liquid, causing large stains to pile up. She sighed, and stood up from the bed, walking over to the dresser, looking in the mirror. She was a mess. Her hair was piled in every which way from none, and her make-up looked like a drag queen had tried to give her beauty advice. She looked down at the dresser, and opened the drawer on top. She reached into the back, and pulled out a small black leather notebook.

 

On the front were the words: Journal of Dr. Aaron Koboltz. That paranoid b*****d " making a copy of his journal every night before bed. But maybe... It had it's uses. She sat back down on the bed, and began to finger through the pages, reading over the familiar handwriting, until she reached one page and grimaced. Of course. There was only one thing that these people could've been after.

 

One word sprawled out before her eyes, and she knew that it had to be this. Attunation. The science that her husband had been researching at TSC, and the science that had caused his death. Her eyes narrowed as she read and re-read the story, taking in all of the information that she needed, in case she had to tell him. Aaron Koboltz' journal had been destroyed when his lab was stormed by “terrorists”, and she had to get rid of this one as soon as she could.

 

She continued reading for about five minutes, before standing up, not a word out of her mouth. She quietly walked down the stairs, through the house past the pre-modern styling, and to the metallic tub they washed almost everything in. She smiled to herself " fires happened all the time here in Sect Mu, the Guardians didn't care about the safety of the people. Pulling out a small box of matches, she struck one, and moved the now burning flame onto the book, dropping it into the sink.

 

As the book burned, Maranda felt all of her sorrow begin to well up within. She started to cry again as the book turned to ash before her eyes. All of those memories, all of that history, all of the love that she and her husband had held was disappearing before her. It was over for her husband. But it was about to begin for her son. She knew it " she had to tell him. She just hoped the other 9 were ready for it as well.

 

From the Journal of Dr. Aaron Koboltz " Dated 14 May 2023

 

There are ten people on this planet that hold one power between them " the power of Attunation. It is not a science, yet it isn't magic. I must strive to understand this ability and it's nature, and understand the true purpose of why we have been given such a power. At least I have a study sample. My son is one of the ten, it has been proven.

 

Maranda, if everything turns horrible... Remember this code. 128.00. The life of our child, and the lives of the other nine rest upon it. As he meets the others, he will learn their numbers too. I just hope he can understand the meaning and purpose of this.