A few hours before Vera was offered the job, Arden left the room alone. He closed the door behind him and heaved a heavy sigh. He needed to get his mind under control. He was taught that keeping a calm mind was imperative for the life of a Starborn, and he was failing on day one.

  The line of people had shortened since he was brought in by Savish, but there were still a few people there. He casually entered the line, and felt a few pairs of eyes on him, but ignored them. Just people attracted to his new self.

  When he made it to the front of the line, a freckled girl with black hair pulled back in a ponytail was waiting for him behind the counter. She tilted her head and asked with a cheery expression.

  “Eating alone, sir?”

  Arden nodded.

  “Yes.”

  The waitress grabbed a menu from her side of the counter and led him to an empty table that could seat four people located between Savish’s private room and the entrance. Arden sat down and accepted the menu and skimmed over it. Every item looked great, but every item was out of his price range. The waitress noticed his expression and alleviated his concerns.

  “You don’t have to worry about the price. You’re one of Mrs Savish’s VIPs. Your meal is on the house.”

  “I’m a VIP?”

  The waitress nodded and gestured to Savish’s room.

  “It’s policy that anyone who is allowed in there is a VIP. Most times it's either business partners or Mr Cayde. You and that woman you came with are VIPs now until we’re told otherwise.”

  “That’s neat,” Arden said as he came to a decision on what to order. “I’ll take the prime ribeye with water.”

  The waitress wrote his order down.

  “How do you want the steak?”

  “Surprise me. The food here is an art, so I’ll take whatever. And food art is a rare medium done well.”

  The waitress’ expression changed to something close to worry, and she wrote down something on her paper.

  “...Right away, sir.”

  Arden watched as the waitress walked away from him to the kitchen. He scratched the back of his head in mild confusion.

  “Was the steak joke really that bad?” he muttered.

  The glass of water arrived quickly, as did a new waitress who looked wary of Arden. She left almost as soon as she arrived without saying much.

  Arden cautiously sipped from his water and he realized he was still on edge. The memory of overdosing on the healing potion was still fresh in his mind, as was everything from the trial. He recognized that fact and told himself that this place was different from the trial and from the slums that forged his survival instinct to a razor’s edge.

  He could afford to relax a little bit. He wasn’t alone anymore. Vera was in the next room, as was Savish, and both of them had helped him. Vera especially. In only a month of knowing her, Vera helped him more than anyone else ever had.

  He wanted to return the favor. Even if she said that just being with him was enough, Arden wasn’t sure. His outburst earlier showed that he had changed. And while that was to be expected to a certain extent among every Starborn who was just given their powers, he changed for the worse. He didn’t think it would be a stretch to say that he had gotten mentally weaker because of his trial.

  It didn’t matter if he became a host for the combined power of two deity-like bullshit entities or if he was the most skilled fighter in the world. If he couldn’t fix his mental state, he would be very dead, very fast.

  Arden looked back on his outburst with regret. He hung his head in shame.

  He hated Yaan. Everytime Arden encountered him, Yaan would leave him as a bloody mess in one of the less wholesome alleys of the slums. And everytime, Arden would get up and continue on his way like it didn’t matter. Arden hated him, but he also didn’t care.

  Now, Arden felt the desire to do something about it.

  “Is it because I have power now?” he muttered. “Or is it just because I don’t want to act weak anymore?”

  He didn’t know the answer. What he did know is that Yaan wasn’t the problem. He was just representative of the problem, which was Arden. He needed to get back to how he was.

  “What was I like back then again?”

  Arden thought back to the time before his trial as his meal arrived. He thanked the waitress and began cutting into the meat, revealing a light pink color. He lost his train of thought when he tasted a sliver of the meat. It was just so good. Seasoned juices ran down his throat as he sucked it down. Perfectly seasoned, perfectly juicy.

  Ironically, it was the derailment of his train of thought that reminded him of what he was like before the trial. He wasn’t indifferent to everything, nor did he have a raging hate hard-on for the world. He just wanted to live a good life with Sya and Vera.

  Actually, not a good life.

  “A fun life,” he said. “Everything we did back then was fun.”

  The training was fun. Growing stronger was almost addicting when he first noticed his progress. The Mausoleum of the Maverick, while incredibly dangerous thanks to both the Maverick and low food, was undoubtedly the most fun he’d ever had. His life wasn’t great, so he just decided to have fun with everything he did.

  Arden smiled at the memories.

  “When did I start taking things too seriously?” There was no time in between the question and the answer, as it was incredibly obvious. “The trial. Because I couldn’t afford to be silly about it.”

  Beyond’s legacy was sealed because a second legacy had trojan horsed its way into his mundane body which couldn’t handle it. He became a normal human and had to survive off of his own merits like every other normal person. And he acted like a normal person in the face of everything that happened.

  With grief. With fear. With anger.

  Arden leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling with a contemplative expression.

  “I guess it's time I stop acting like a normal human again.”

  He returned to the steak lovingly prepared by Savish’s employees and began to hungrily devour it. A weight in his heart had been lifted, and it was time to replace the heavy weight with high cholesterol. The steak was gone in ten minutes.

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  “This is what it's all about. Good food.”

  The waitress returned with a surprised expression on her face.

  “You finished that fast?”

  Arden shrugged.

  “I was hungry.”

  “It was a 32 ounce steak!”

  “I was very hungry,” he reiterated with a warm smile.

  He handed her his plate and she returned to the kitchen to hand off the dish to the dishwasher. With nothing else to do, Arden looked around at the other patrons still eating. Most of them were too distracted with their own meals than him, which served Arden just fine.

  He took a long drink of his water and saw someone familiar entering the building, causing him to start choking on the water as it went down the wrong pipe. After a few hits to his chest and another sip of water to cleanse his pallet, he noticed that the man was staring back at him.

  “Why do Starborn still choke like that?” Arden said to himself as he rested his right arm on the back of his chair.

  The man having a staring contest with Arden squinted at him, trying to figure out why he was so familiar. After a few seconds, recognition flashed across his face and he gasped. Arden smiled at him and waved a greeting.

  The man spoke to his waitress, Arden’s first, and pointed in Arden’s direction. The waitress looked in Arden's direction and cringed, eliciting a chuckle from Arden as the waitress and the man both approached him.

  Arden stood up to greet them with a smile on his face.

  The man was still as tall and toned as he was last time Arden saw him, perhaps even a little bit more so. He looked like he had actually gotten some sleep, as his eyes weren’t bloodshot nor did he yawn.

  Arden and the man shook hands as the waitress laid a menu down on the table. The man looked nervous and Arden looked very pleased with himself.

  “You look good, Arden.”

  “Of course I do, Staz. I’m not being pinned to the ground in an alley before dawn. You look better as well.”

  Staz was one of Yaan’s set of rotating goons that helped him in whatever he wanted. Sometimes it was for the muscle, others it was for intimidation. Staz did both. The last time Arden saw Staz, he was on his way back to his building after getting the paradox in progress message, only a few hours after Yaan cooked him from the inside out with Staz as an accomplice

  “Hopefully the trend doesn’t continue,” Arden said.

  “What trend?” Staz asked as he sat down to look at the menu.

  “The last two times I’ve seen you, it was almost immediately followed by a disaster. I’d really rather there not be a third.”

  “The last time I saw you was the morning you recovered from Yaan’s attack. What happened after that?”

  “My building collapsed with me and my sister inside.”

  The waitress furrowed her brows at the discussion between the stoic man and the weird guy. Clearly, this kind of discussion was above her pay-grade, but they were also both VIPs, so she couldn't just ignore them.

  “Did your sister survive?”

  “She did.”

  “Then I hope she’s doing well.”

  “Me too.” Arden got a weird look from Staz but continued. “What about Yaan? Is he still a living breathing cliche?”

  Staz gave the waitress the menu and his order. When she left, he answered Arden.

  “Probably. I haven’t seen him in a few months. Not since he was kicked out of Miasma.”

  “He was kicked out? What happened?”

  Staz looked at him with confusion.

  “Haven’t you noticed that he’s been gone for a while?”

  Arden shrugged.

  “I only just got back yesterday. I kind of figured that the slum repairs sent him into hiding. Wannabe gangsters wouldn’t fit in here now.”

  Staz received his drink and waited for the waitress to leave before continuing.

  “You’ve changed a lot since I’ve seen you. What happened?”

  “Before that,” Arden pointed at Staz’ drink. “Do you have the money to pay for that? If Yaan’s gone, then who is paying you?”

  “I’m a VIP here, so I don’t have to pay. How did you pay?”

  “I’m also a VIP.”

  Arden looked at the surprised Staz. The befuddlement was picturesque. Of course he would be confused by Arden, the slummiest slum rat, having a VIP position at this place. However, Arden’s mind was racing, putting together the pieces.

  “So you’re Savish’s Miasma contact. She said that someone was going to come by who claimed to know about me.”

  “You know that she was asking about your old bounty?”

  “Of course. I asked her to look into it. I needed to get the lay of the land when I finally came back. A Starborn broker seemed like a safe bet.”

  Staz said nothing for the next few minutes. When his meal arrived, a well-done t-bone steak, he only thanked the waitress. He stared at Arden’s pleased expression, which came off as smug thanks to knowing him beforehand. It irritated Staz. He lowered his knife and fork and wiped his mouth.

  “Arden. Who are you really?”

  “Same as I’ve always been. A slum rat.”

  “No you're not. It's impossible for a slum rat to have your connections. What is your faction?”

  Arden frowned. He didn't like the ‘I’ word. Too many things considered impossible had happened already, even leaving aside his own paradoxical nature.

  “Nothing is impossible.”

  “Don't give me that motivational crap. Just because I didn't like Yaan beating the crap out of you doesn't mean I won't do it now. I'm a lot more skilled than some arrogant young master who can only throw his uncle's influence around,” Staz threatened. “Tell me.”

  Arden took another sip of his water. He wasn't scared of Yaan. He certainly wouldn't be threatened by one of his lackey.

  “I have no faction. Everything that's happened has happened because of me.”

  “Impossible,” Staz scoffed.

  “There you go using that word again. I'm not a fan of it. Impossible is a word used by people not willing to put forth the necessary effort to get what they want. At least, that's some people's definition. I think differently. I think that there is nothing that can't happen. Only things that shouldn’t happen.”

  “And you are one of those things, are you?”

  Arden shrugged.

  “That's up to your own interpretation. Personally, I think I should have happened, but my actions shouldn't.”

  Arden looked at Staz’ expression. It was a familiar expression of annoyance. He had that effect on people.

  “There was a statistic I learned from one of my many visits to the municipal building,” Arden said. “Do you know how many normal slum citizens make it out of the slums some time in their lives?”

  Staz scowled.

  “How many?”

  “1 in 10,000. Do you know how many of those few actually live good lives there?”

  “How many?”

  “Only a tenth of those. The world Is cruel to impoverished people. Money is the law of the land, and those without money are thrown away. The only surefire way for someone like us to make it out and live with money is to become a Starborn.”

  “You think I don't know that? I spent years following that prick Yaan because I wasn't one of the lucky ones that managed to awaken. The odds of awakening as an Aspirant are about as low as one of us making it out.”

  Arden snapped his fingers.

  “Exactly! About 1 in 10,000 manage to awaken. Of those few, only the prepared ones survive and become Starborn, which gives us an inherent disadvantage. Do you know how many Aspirants from the slums become full-on Starborn?”

  “How many?”

  “No one knows. There hasn't been a single recorded Instance of one of us surviving the first trial. It's an unknowable statistic. There were probably a few that managed it, but they weren't recorded, being nameless and all that.”

  Arden flashed a confident smile, angering Staz. He wanted to deck this arrogant slum rat, and he was going to, until he heard Arden’s next words.

  “I'll be the first one on record.”