Espiritu

1 - Marked

It was 6:30 in the morning, and the cement was still wet from the rain that that dropped half an hour ago. The scent of a summer downpour bloomed from the soil and into the air, which kept the early birds distracted from the unusual heat and humidity that could be felt this early in the morning. Syed was still inside his apartment though, and the rain only made his first daybreak in Libulan cool and pleasant to the senses.

The walls of his apartment were still cold from the night before, and were even damp on some parts. These walls contained a mostly empty space; the first floor consisted of an old couch made of synthetic leather, a backpack leaning right beside it, a table and chair combo, and Syed's personal droid (a small, glorified microwave with a holo-display of an anime lady). Upstairs were two rooms - one that was as empty as every other room in the flat, the other his bedroom.

His droid, which he lazily named "Bob," handed him his sandwich, microwaved to perfection. "Here you go, master! An exquisite ham-and-egg sandwich seasoned and heated to standards that humans could only ever hope to achieve!" Bob had a feminine voice, and fancied herself a socialite - without the wealth nor the taste of one. In truth, she was a Tsundere-Droid manufactured two decades ago, during what many call the "Anime Renaissance" marketing ploy.

Syed had long forgotten the story of how he met her in the first place.

"Right," Syed said, deadpan. He examined the sandwich, and found that it was, indeed, inhumanly bland to look at. "Looks great."

"I detect . . . Insincerity in your words. Hmph!" Bob crossed her holographic arms. "I would have thought that my master would have more refined tastes than the typical human, but alas, I was wrong."

Syed laughed lightly at Bob's attempt at being 'cultured'. "Bob, just let me eat, yeah?"

He needed that laugh. He was still shaken from the test, even if it was only lasted for a few minutes. What did being 'marked' mean?

Still, he felt excitement. The test rekindled his hope of finding an answer. The question? He never told anyone about it. Perhaps he wanted to learn about his family; where they went, and why he was left to brave the lights of the Capital alone for his entire life. Perhaps he wanted to know what his place was in the forever progressing society of the Nation; to know what his purpose was.

Or, perhaps he just wanted to know why he couldn't die.

"Master, regardless of what you think of my sandwich - which is indeed something that you should think highly of - my efforts would be wasted if you simply stare at it like a dandruff-eating ninnyhammer."

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking of something." He ate the sandwich.

-

After saying goodbye to Bob (she mumbled something about cleaning the house, and Syed being an idiot), he called for a tricycle and went to his new school. This was Libulan's primary mode of short transport: a motorcycle with a sidecar, both heavily decorated with generic Philippine trinkets.

The Libulan-Visayas International, or LVI, is a centuries-old academy that used to follow the centuries-old Montessori method of education. Beyond that, there was nothing about it that stood out. Compared to other, bigger schools in Libulan, LVI seemed about as big as a mid-range department store; with elementary students occupying the first floor, junior high school students on the second, and seniors on the third.

Syed showed the guard his ID and went inside. Plastic chairs were set up in the lobby, with the high school students sitting in the back. The speakers boomed with an announcement that the orientation was about to start.

Frisco waved as he saw him, and was kind enough to reserve him a seat. He had long, messy hair and bags under his eyes. Together with his overcoat, it looked like he was trying to pass himself off as some sort-of panda detective. "Glad you made it in time. Libulan can be cruel at times."