Book 28: The Eden Conference

December 6, 2017

The Garden, New Eden, Bir Tawil

Monika couldn’t help but shiver despite being in the middle of the desert. Fear kept her body trembling as awful groans emanated from the labyrinthian hellscape before her. To call this thing a garden was generous and misleading; the flowers looked hideous and otherworldly, the grass writhed in agony, and the air stunk of open wounds.

And yet, none of that was as fear-inducing as her grandmother standing stoically beside her. After her outburst a few days ago, nary a word had been said to her but the message was obvious; she’d messed up. Monika said she’d become Elder, sure, but for Yasu to challenge her to the succession trials before she could even reach her teens was nothing short of an execution. Even so, she had an inkling of pride in the back of her mind, telling her that she could do it.

The crowd behind the girl and her grandmother consisted of Roses, the other Elders, and dozens of prominent maestros the girl didn’t recognize. After several minutes spent staring into the abyssal Garden, Yasu finally turned to the crowd.

“We shall begin.” Short and precise.

“Three…” Monika readied herself.

“Two…”

Before she could process hearing the word ‘one’, Monika felt a hand grab her collar and pull her deep into the garden. Thorny vines and branches whipped at her face as she was dragged along. She eventually came to a stop, and was thrown onto the ground, to see that it was Yasu that dragged her here. From the corner of her eye, she could see the eyes of blooms, watching cautiously, waiting. They were feral creatures, but could sense when a superior being stood among them.

“You stupid girl.” Her voice vibrated with rage, “you think you can disrespect me, in front of the entire family? In front of my sons and daughters?”

“I—” Monika’s bottom lip quivered.

“Close your mouth! You were supposed to be the next in line. I was going to mold you to take her place. And now you’ve thrown it away. Now, her death means nothing. You children…” Yasu spat out the last word like a foul tasting poison.

“You children have no idea what’s going on in this world. Yet you can declare yourself the next Elder. You have no grace, no decorum, and…” she gestured to the creatures around them, “...no chance of making it out of here.”

“I’m sorry” Monika sobbed, throwing herself at Yasu’s feet. This was nothing like what she imagined.

“Look at that. You abandon your pride as soon as it’s convenient. Pathetic.” The woman kicked her granddaughter off her feet, and walked off.

The blooms hiding in the trees and bushes didn’t waste any time to get a closer look at the girl. They came in all sorts of grotesque forms: lizards, birds, and felines alike. She could barely call up her atma before two salamander-like blooms lunged, eager to get the first pick. One’s jaws clamped down on her leg and the other’s down on her hand. They began to pull her apart as she screamed.

Wracked with fear, her eyes darted about. Her atma’s trait allowed her to loose a couple weak explosions around her hand. The creature holding onto it let go for a moment as she was thrashed about.

“I don’t want to die! Mom…please…help me!”

Obsidian teeth cut through her flesh, and soon after, cracked bone. The impact from being thrown around knocked the wind out of her, stifling her scream so she could hear her ribs break. She managed to form another explosion around her leg, earning her release. She tried to stand but fell back immediately as the surrounding blooms tried to close in on her.

She stood again, this time using more of her atma to launch herself upwards and towards what she thought was the exit. When she landed, she yelped in pain, the force of the impact unbearable on her little body. Monika cried out as she dragged herself along the ground, away from her pursuers. She could hear their breaths, their groans, their steps getting closer. This was absolutely the end.

Suddenly, a flash of gold blinded the girl. Monika tried again to will herself to stand but couldn’t overcome the shock. She could only listen to what was happening around her; the sound of something cutting through flesh and bone, the groans of dying blooms, and a choral chant of atma. She covered her eyes from the sun’s rays until she felt a sudden coolness on her skin.

Tamara Cain stood over her, dark-skinned, blue-haired and overwhelmingly powerful. Her eyes were covered by a golden tiara, but the girl could tell the smile on her face was genuine. With the sun as a halo behind her, the woman extended a hand. Twelve-year-old Monika cried.

~

July 6, 2022 - 9:28am

Miguel’s Farm, Unknown, Nigeria

A single tear rolled down Monika’s cheek as she chopped wood.

“Hm? Why am I thinking about that time now?”

She knew the answer to that. Since her realization with Money almost a week ago, they’d decided to step away from combat training, and focus on what was really holding her back; herself.

It was known to maestros that drastic situations could lead to greater understanding of oneself, and therefore, greater proficiency with one’s atma. But it was just as likely for that situation to shatter one’s Illusion and render them impotent. Milking goats and chopping wood on a farm were hardly drastic situations, so there was no choice but to come about that understanding the old-fashioned way.

She figured she ought to start with who she was. That’s what she told herself two days ago, but even that question was too broad. So today, she went with Money’s suggestion.

“What do I like to do?” Most of her time was spent training or on her phone. Life since being saved by Tamara was defined by that moment. Who she wanted to be, what she wanted to do, and how she spent her days. The answers to those questions were all Tamara. And it wasn’t just to herself, but to everyone that showed up that day. They all watched the reclusive Cain emerge from the Garden unscathed, holding the heir of the Rose Family over her shoulder.

She was the ‘next Tamara Cain’. With that pressure alone, how could she possibly be expected to also be Monika Rose?

Farming. On Miguel’s farm, she was just a regular maestro who had to put in an honest day’s work to be fed, especially after the boys descended. It was a humbling experience. A needed one. Still, the girl sighed, exhausted from this line of thought. As she loaded up the next log of firewood, an uninvited memory interrupted her.

“Reeeeeey Mysterioooooo!” a five year old Monika with a blanket tied around her shoulder jumped onto her amused mother. The two laughed hysterically as the girl climbed up the bed, only to jump again. A precious memory. The girl buried her axe in the unchopped log and sat down in the grass. Wrestling…we used to watch WWE together…all of us… Monika remembered her father plopping down on the couch next to her, resting a large hand on her head. She scoffed at the thought of the man who disappeared after her mother died.

Suddenly, a violent chorus of buzzing sounded overhead, signaling the arrival of four massive black helicopters, all contributing to holding up the weight of an equally sizable shipping crate. The hum of the flock was joined by the roar of plain white moving trucks driving through the fields and tearing up the long stalks of grass. Monika recognized the trucks immediately and ran to the barn, where she hoped to find Money. She stopped just short of exiting the grass, hiding herself when she saw that the trucks reached him first. It was hard to ignore the panic of bleating goats and screaming chickens.

The drivers and passengers spilled out of their cabins, totalling seven. They were all women, all Japanese, and all M.I.I. maestros. They wore black cloth masks and the signature black windbreaker with one key difference: the addition of a bright red rose embroidered on the back. Monika recognized them immediately as the ‘thorns’ of the Rose family. Her grandmother’s attack dogs who took no official name. If the thorns were here, that meant her aunt Akane and cousin Niko were nearby. As if on cue, two women stepped forward and removed their masks.

Monika recognized Niko’s lavender highlights and short hair before she revealed her persistently smug face. Her aunt, however, carried herself just like Yasu, standing so upright she could be mistaken for a cardboard cutout.

“What the hell is all this?” Money asked incredulously.

“An investigation,” Akane answered, gesturing with her head for the thorns to spread out and begin looking around. Monika suppressed her atma.

“Into what? We have contracts with you guys.” He stepped in the way of some of the women.

“You have paperwork with us, Mr. Garcia, not Contracts. Unfortunately, paperwork only protects you from the law. Not us.”

“So what do you want?” Miguel emerged from the barn, evidently disturbed by the sudden noise.

“Oh we can be gone before you even know it. We’re just gonna look into the blooms you’re harboring on this property,” Niko spoke up, excited by the idea of conflict. She had two black bags strapped to her back; one long and thin, the other much thicker. From the latter, she produced a scoped rifle with a swift elegance and held it with the barrel pointed at the ground.

“Nobody is looking anywhere,” Miguel could barely contain his irritation, “so you can put that away, young lady.” His atma rose menacingly.

“Don’t bother with that technique of yours,” Akane snorted, “we brought a little gift from the Talia Family. And surely you don’t think you can beat us with nothing but reinforcement?”

Miguel’s eyes narrowed.

“Anti-barrier anchors…so you expected a fight…”

“This is bad…the Talia Family specializes in barriers and atma seals. I’ve had too many run-ins with their Instruments designed to disrupt barrier-dependent techniques…but Tamara made these three my wards.”

“So, I must deliver.” The large man let his atma wrap around his muscles, bolstering their strength. Akane sighed while the women behind her raised their own reinforcements.

“Niko,” she cooed, “don’t kill your cousin.” Immediately Niko pointed two fingers at Monika’s exact position in the grass. Expansive wings made of atma sprouted on her back and shot her into view of the conflicting parties. Niko aimed her rifle at the girl, a wicked grin plastered on her face.

Jump Force.

Money reacted with blinding speed. His wraith, a blur of red and blue, shot forward to block Niko’s bullet with its palm. The .51 caliber projectile obliterated the wraith’s hand. A wound that was reflected onto its creator’s body. He shouted.

Niko’s wings on Monika dissipated, and the girl skidded across the ground. Before she could get up, the purple-haired Rose kicked her in the face. The thorns surrounded them.

“Hey, cousin!”

Meanwhile, Money clutched his stump of a hand.

“Tell me you’re stocked…” His brother said worriedly. Rage rippled beneath his words.

“Fully,” Money replied, his wraith using its remaining hand to give him a yellow mushroom. He swallowed it and paid no attention to the cracking and squelching of bones reforming and flesh knitting back together.

“Roses,” Miguel growled, “you’ve made a mistake.” His muscles bulged grotesquely before loosing unfathomable power to launch himself at Akane. The woman raised her reinforcement. Although it kept her bones intact on the initial impact, she was violently launched into the cabin of the nearest truck. The crunch of bone, metal, and glass drew the attention of the thorns and brought a smirk to Money’s face.

“Mom!” Niko instinctively turned to the wreckage where her mother struggled to stand up, disoriented. Suddenly, a vice grip tightened around her ankle. Monika, face bloodied and eyes red, glared up at her with a wicked grin.

“Hey cousin.” Happy to return the greeting, she let her atma flow up Niko’s leg. As the two girls’ atma mingled with one another, Monika’s unique atma trait sparked a powerful explosion. Niko fell backwards, causing the thorns to jump back. They all produced black police batons as the younger Rose clambered to her feet.

The two hadn’t seen each other in half a decade. Since the funeral, in fact. They’d been close then, but perhaps time stewing in the miasma of Rose-scented negativity poisoned Niko’s opinion of Monika.

Meanwhile, Miguel refused Akane the opportunity to reorient herself. He raced two of the thorns to the middle-aged woman and repeatedly slammed his beefy fists into her face. A slender woman grabbed his arm mid-swing but Money’s wraith appeared, eager to mete out Akane’s treatment to her subordinates.

Miguel relented from beating Niko’s mother and kicked the second thorn into the stone wall of the barn. His deadly reinforcement broke through hers, and rewarded him with the dull thud of a skull cracking against concrete. Jump Force unleashed a barrage of lighter attacks on its target, and with each impact, a translucent number appeared above her head. 21, 22, 23…

Money himself, however, joined Monika’s fight against the five remaining nameless thorns and her cousin. The girl had done well by herself, as she had forced Niko to retreat, and darted between the thorns, firing consecutive bursts of her atma. Small, but effective at making space. The willowy farmer kicked the back of the nearest target’s leg, causing her to fall to one knee. He made eye contact with Monika, whose eyes sparkled in understanding. She boosted one knee upward with one explosion beneath her feet, and then stomped on the woman’s shoulder, propelling the foot down with a second explosion at her knee.

The resulting crack forced a yelp from the woman as she slumped back. Four to go.

“This isn’t what we expected…so Monika has grown this strong…and these farmer boys…one’s not even using his technique. Ojisan said we just needed to injure and tire them out before the Orchestra. We haven’t even made a dent or found the bloom! This is a losing battle!”

Rather than returning to the losing fight with Monika and Money, Niko focused her attention on Miguel beating her mother senseless. She pointed at him with two fingers, rematerializing those wings. She carelessly flicked him away, towards the helicopters. The girl ignored the crash as she ran to tend to her mother.

“Okaasan!” She knelt by the woman beaten senseless. The girl could feel that her mother’s atma was on the verge of depletion. Miguel hadn’t given her a chance to bring out her technique, so the fact that Akane had used up this much atma from reinforcement alone gave Niko chills. These men were beasts. Although — no, precisely because — the Roses were nobility, they were not ready to face maestros like this.

“You stupid girl,” Akane sputtered, “look at what you did!” Niko turned to see not just Money and Monika finishing off the remaining thorns, but their helicopters crashing into the ground from the force of Miguel’s impact. Niko scowled as she helped her mother up.

Monika and Money started approaching the two of them, but before they could reach, wings sprouted on both women. The young Rose girl picked up a rock to throw at her retreating family.

“That was…underwhelming,” she said. It wasn’t just the fight — if it could be called that — she was talking about. She hadn’t seen a Rose in almost five years, hadn’t spoken to one. She thought there’d at least be talking with Niko, but it seemed that violence was still the only language her family conversed with. Her throat hurt.

“Don’t you dare cry.”

“Maybe you’ve gotten stronger. Or maybe, Roses are overrated.” Money chuckled. The girl snorted through her emerging tears.

Explosions roared behind her as the helicopters finally hit the ground. Both onlookers strengthened their reinforcement to protect from the shrapnel. Miguel’s body shot out of the wreckage and flames. He skidded across the soil and stopped just at their feet. He was covered in soot and shrapnel protruded from his body. Based on his proximity to the explosion, it was miraculous that he was in one piece. Must’ve been the atma. Atma that Monika could no longer hear coming from his body.

“Miguel!” She fell to her knees, “Money…he’s…he’s.” The tears welled over.

“I know,” Money’s fist clenched as Jump formed behind him. Suddenly, from the wreckage, a cacophony of shrieking drew their attention. It only took the two a moment to realize the source as hundreds of flaming blooms rushed out of the fire.