My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy
Chapter 93: Changing tides

Chapter 93: Changing tides

Wes Oakley stood with his hands in his pockets, his white hair streaked with black tips slightly ruffled. Dressed in a simple green shirt and shorts, he exhaled before speaking.

"Alright, most of you know me already, but I’ll say it again. Wes Oakley. Twenty-two years old. Before this whole mess kicked off, I was a track star. One of the fastest sprinters in the country. Was even on my way to competing on the world’s biggest stage."

Junjio, ever curious, raised his hand. "How did you even have time for personal goals with everything going on? The alien attacks, the chaos...?"

Wes raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by the question. He scratched the back of his head. "Why would I let an event that never affected me slow me down? And even if it had, I’d have pushed through it. The world doesn’t just stop because we’ve been attacked twice in three years. That’s two bad days out of, what, over seven hundred?" He shrugged. "Unless you were in one of those places that got nearly wiped off the map, most people just kept going. New leaders stepped in, things adjusted, and life moved on."

Junjio’s shoulders tensed, his eyes lowering as he rubbed at his arm. "Oh... I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean—"

Wes noticed the sudden shift in Junjio’s demeanor and immediately put two and two together. His chest tightened as he realized what he’d just said.

"Damn, kid... you were there, weren’t you?"

Junjio gave a slow nod, eyes still downcast.

Wes let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I just... I don’t always think before I talk, alright? We can touch base later if you want."

Junjio nodded slightly but stayed quiet.

Wes sighed and quickly moved on. "Anyway, let me show you what I can do."

He snapped his fingers. Instantly, a whirlpool of inky black energy swirled into existence before him. The void-like vortex twisted in the air, drawing in a bit of dust from the floor. Without a word, he flicked a coin into it. The vortex collapsed in an instant, swallowing the object whole.

A moment later, Wes snapped his fingers again.

Above his open palm, another small black void formed. The coin tumbled out, landing neatly into his waiting hand.

He flipped the coin once before tucking it away. "That’s about it. Neat, right?"

Kikaru tilted her head. "So... a storage ability?"

Wes smirked. "Kinda. More like a pocket dimension. It’s not infinite or anything, but it’s useful."

Faye leaned forward. "What about your Ikona?"

Wes sighed, glancing at the small, translucent creature floating near his shoulder. Its surface shimmered like soap bubbles catching the light.

"This little guy makes bubbles," Wes explained. "Their properties change depending on... something. I haven’t figured out what the triggers are yet, but some pop instantly, some stick to surfaces, some bounce. Basically, it’s random as hell, and I haven’t cracked the code."

Kikaru nodded and stated, "So, pretty much the same as when you got here."

Wes grumbled under his breath.

She then turned her focus to Elias and Junjio. "Finally, that leaves myself."

She crossed her arms before continuing, "My ability is a bit hard to explain, but when I engage in hand-to-hand combat, things slow down to about half-speed for a few seconds, allowing me to read movements more clearly. I try not to rely on it too much, though, because I feel like it could become a crutch and stop me from getting stronger naturally."

She then lifted her hand, and her Ikona responded immediately, summoning shards of glowing light. "Instead, I focus on my Ikona’s ability—light manipulation. Though, it’s not just light. It’s closer to a fusion of light and plasma."

Junjio gave a thoughtful nod. "That’s actually really efficient. If you don’t mind me asking, how much can you create at once?"

Kikaru shrugged. "Depends on how much I and my Ikona push ourselves. Technically, I’m not creating them; we’re just in sync. It’s better that way—it keeps any opponent guessing."

Junjio nodded, still watching as the shards of light flickered around her fingertips.

Tidwell stretched his arms, cracking his knuckles before standing. "Well, as much as I love this kumbaya moment, I’m going to take myself and my cloud and figure out the best setup for advancing my skill tree."

Elias nodded. "That was the next thing I was going to bring up—we shouldn’t stress about feeding each other info on our skill trees just yet. I doubt any of us could recall all the specifics, but at some point, we should write it down. Exchanging notes might help us piece together why this all exists."

The group exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. "That’s fine by me," Kikaru said, followed by a similar response from the others.

Hours passed, the base settling into its usual rhythm until 12:30 PM, when the overhead intercom crackled to life.

"Elias, Kikaru, Paul, Tidwell. Please prepare to leave Pod A by 1:00. That is all."

Each of the four were already off in their own corners, engaged in their own tasks.

Elias, sitting in his room, glanced at the time. He sighed as he looked at Dot’s, who was hovering above an open book about food.

"Well," he muttered, closing it with a tap, "guess we’ll have to finish learning about ingredients later."

At exactly 1:00 PM, the exit door slid open with a soft hiss. Oliver stood waiting, his military uniform pressed so crisp it looked like it could cut glass. His expression was unreadable, the usual sharp authority in his stance.

"Please come with me," he said simply, eyes sweeping over the four of them. "We’ll need to get you all changed."

No further explanation, no wasted words. The group exchanged glances before following him down the corridor.

The walk was silent, the only sounds being the subtle hum of the facility and the occasional metallic clink of boots on the smooth flooring. They arrived at a room marked with a simple "Changing Room A-3." The door slid open, revealing a series of neatly hung black suits, white ties placed precisely over them, and dress shoes aligned underneath.

Oliver stepped aside, motioning toward the racks. "Pick your sizes and get changed. Everything should be tailored to fit exactly."

Elias eyed the suits skeptically. "What’s with the formalities?" he asked while unbuttoning his current shirt. "And why not just a military uniform like the one you stuck me in last time?"

Oliver exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yeah... about that. I got in a bit of trouble for dressing you up in a military uniform. Technically, I could pull rank and do it again, but let’s just say there are... limits to what I can get away with."

Elias smirked slightly at that as he pulled the jacket over his shoulders, adjusting the fit. "So what’s this for, then?"

Oliver clasped his hands behind his back. "You four, along with eight others, are coming to a board meeting. The higher-ups are reviewing the current situation with the shards, particularly the system’s warning about reducing the number of users to 90."

Kikaru frowned, tightening her tie. "So, basically, we’re going to be paraded in front of a bunch of big shots?"

"More or less," Oliver confirmed. "They want you all in uniformity—same outfits, same professional appearance. No distractions."

Elias adjusted his sleeves, a skeptical brow raised. "But why us four specifically?"

Oliver’s lips thinned slightly. "It was a user recommendation. Someone higher up suggested the four of you attend. I wasn’t given a name, so don’t ask."

Elias exchanged looks with the others, who were clearly just as wary.

Oliver gave them a final once-over before his tone dropped slightly, quieter, more serious. "Just don’t piss these men off. Your lives could be on the line, more or less."

A tense silence fell over the group.

"Great," Tidwell muttered, tugging his cuffs into place. "Nothing like a good old-fashioned death threat to start the afternoon."

Oliver said nothing, just gave a short nod and motioned for them to follow.

The group walked in silence back to the facility’s front entrance, where Oliver approached a panel beside the two receptionists. The women at the desks barely glanced up, fingers moving across their keyboards as they worked. Oliver pressed a button, and with a soft hiss, a thick panel in the floor slid open, revealing an elevator embedded into the ground.

Elias stepped in with the others, feeling the smooth metal beneath his shoes. The doors sealed behind them, and the lift began its ascent. It was slow—intentionally slow.

No one spoke.

For a few long minutes, the only sound was the hum of machinery as they were carried upward. Elias glanced at Kikaru, who kept her arms crossed, staring at the floor. Paul adjusted his tie, his expression unreadable. Tidwell cracked his knuckles absently.

Then—click.

The elevator came to a stop. The doors parted, revealing a long hallway bathed in soft, golden light. Thin strips of illumination lined the edges of the walls, casting a uniform glow against the sleek black surfaces. A thick red carpet ran the entire length, stretching toward another set of double doors.

Elias could already tell.

This was not just another meeting room.

His eyes flicked to Oliver, who gave no further instructions, simply walking forward. The group followed, boots muffled by the carpet.

The double doors at the end of the hall opened before they even reached them, revealing an expansive conference room.

Rows of finely crafted chairs circled several tables lined with bottles of water, neatly plated fruit arrangements, and untouched documents. A few men and women were already seated, flipping through pages or murmuring amongst themselves. No one paid attention to Elias or the others.

Instead, Oliver led them past the first set of tables, toward yet another door.

This one was heavier.

Pushing it open, they entered the true boardroom.

The room was a perfect circle. A massive round table sat in the center, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. Twelve chairs. Each one occupied by someone important.

Aged men and women, their expressions set in stone. Some held tablets, others clasped their hands in their laps, but all of them radiated an unshakable presence. Behind them, an enormous screen flickered to life, filling the back wall.

Elias didn’t recognize a single face.

But he knew these were the people truly in charge.

One of the men, sitting with an effortless authority, finally spoke.

"Oliver. Have them join the others along the wall."

Oliver gave a single nod.