The Elite

Twenty

Julian

"You look rather put-off," Leon commented to me as I entered the room. "What's up?"

"Belle," I replied. "She's... vexing. Hell, everything is vexing."

I slammed my foot into the trashcan next to the doorway, trying to get my anger out. It was probably too much, but I was just so frustrated. I was pretty sure Belle knew the reason why my parents left for the ruins of America and got themselves killed. If anyone deserved to know that, it was me, not the Elite who killed them.

"Are you okay?" Leon asked worriedly. "I don't think I've ever seen you this angry."

"Of course not," I snapped. "It's not everyday I feel like I'm a dumb nobody who is clueless to what is actually going on!"

From the shocked look on Leon's face, I could clearly tell I was acting in way I didn't normally, so I took a deep breath, calming myself.

"Sorry, Leon," I said. "I'm not feeling entirely okay right now."

"Oh," Leon said awkwardly. "Are you sick? Gabriel appears to have caught a cold. Did you too?"

"Well, I guess he's not entirely invincible," I muttered.

Realizing I was once again acting a bit oddly, I decided it was probably best to try to do something rather than mope and let these strange feelings stew.

"Where is Gabriel?" I asked. "Maybe I can heal his cold."

"Could you do that before?" Leon asked.

"Well, I could heal symptoms, but not get the virus or bacteria," I replied. "I was thinking maybe I could now that I was Class 6."

I still had yet to figure out how I'd changed upon becoming Class 6 — assuming I had at all — so I was eager to test out things to try to prove I was not just worse than everybody else. The problem was that I was already a truly amazing healer. I could save anyone as long as they were still alive pretty much. How could I possibly go up from there? Resurrection?

"I don't know," Leon said. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with trying, but I just don't think you could eradicate viruses and bacteria. Your powers are to heal, and killing doesn't seem to fit that."

"You're right," I muttered. "It was pointless to presume. I'm probably just not special."

With that, I turned around and left, feeling like an utter failure. My parents didn't seem to think I was good enough to know why they left Zaratha and now I just wasn't good enough to warrant a power upgrade upon becoming Class 6. I was just not important.

Damn, I thought to myself, when did I start thinking as pessimistically as Tass?

It really was a conundrum. I seemed to be changing, feeling types of feelings that I didn't normally experience. I'd excelled at keeping myself in check, but now things like they were out of my control. It was almost as if something had taken control of me and was making me feel these things.

Distantly, I wondered if it had something to do with becoming Class 6. My problems seemed to be happening only after that fight, and I still had no idea how I changed — assuming I did at all — so it seemed likely that was the source of my problems. Even so, I struggled to see how the two things could possibly be related, so I found myself dismissing the idea. It seemed more likely I was just feeling this way due to stress. I certainly had a lot of it.

As my feet carried me randomly through the hallways, I suddenly had a thought to do something that had been brewing on my mind for a while now.

Tapping my bracelet, I said, "Where is Lagos-16 pilot, Azarea Ngige?"