บท 8: Fit For The Job

Shuffled along speedily yet orderly through the still empty police station (likely a cover for it's true purpose, whatever that is), he finds himself standing before a bizarrely out of place, white painted, paneled wooden door. Not even being set on the pristine white walls of the station, it just... stood there. Despite the strangeness, Mason can't help but have a feeling of familiarity- a feeling of home. He is confused as to why that is. Turning to the three people behind him with an inquisitive look on his face. Seeing that Mason was expecting an explanation of some sort, Zack clears his throat.

"Well, it's a door. Is there a problem?" Zack asks in a nonchalant manner.

"Yeah, I can see that, smartass. But... why is there a door here? Especially one made of just wood- not really the day and age I'd expect to see that," Mason retorts.

"Hm... well, things have gotten a little bit hectic the past five hundred or so years since Dynamo's conception, you know? Things previously thought to be impossible or highly difficult have become possible- and not through the power of just technology. Mason, what do you know about teleportation?"

Despite being caught off guard by this seemingly unrelated question, Mason responds after a moment of thought.

"It's impossible outside the possibility of special, innate, mental abilities. Incredibly high speed space travel has become achievable, but outright teleportation isn't doable through simply technology. Only once before has there been an exosuit pilot who could conduct instantaneous movement through space, and their distance of movment was little more than a meter, and all other applications of their mental ability were lacking immensely. They died before the age of thirty. Even with a specialized suit built just for her, the sheer strain was too much for her body to handle."

All three board members nod, before the female officer takes up the lead on the conversation.

"What if our current means aren't simply technology? If you enter this wooden door right here... you will appear in Dynamo university, in our central board room, completely impenetrable from the gazes of the outside world."

In response to this, Mason scoffs in disbelief.

"If not technology, what? Are you gonna tell me this door is powered by magic or something?"

"Something like that, sure." Zack says.

"Don't listen to his flippant garbage," The sallow faced salaryman interjects. "Through these years, we have yet to confirm what exactly this power is, let alone something as insubstantial as 'magic.' We assume it is just an unknown application of mental energy that can be applied on objects, and not just used on living beings like mental energy is mostly limited to. This door in particular is a set of two relics- one is set up in our board room. We picked both up around four hundred years ago entirely by luck, as things like this relic and the different structures they reside in started appearing en masse around five hundred years ago in our galaxy, along side the signs of the forces of Goetia."

"I assume Goetia is what this... 'oncoming threat' is called?"

"That is indeed the case. Don't expect much more in terms of information on them from us members of the board- not just yet." The salaryman's tone brooked no further inquiry.

Sensing the man's misgivings, Mason simply nods with a frown on his face. Steadying himself with no more words, he grabs the metal knob on the door, and pushes it open. Before him he sees... just the other side of the wall that stood behind the door in the corridor. Confused, he steps through the wooden door frame.

After doing so, he finds himself in a pristine white room, seemingly separate from the standards of reality. Despite Dynamo being a very clean and pristine place fitting of it's reputation, occasionally one could certainly see signs that it is quite the bustling metropolis. No such signs were in this room.

In width and length, it was a large square shaped room with a circular table in the center, surrounded by what seemed to be normal office chairs. As Mason walks forward in wonder at the change of setting, the three new associates of his walked from behind him and stood in front of the entrance to the room- a decidedly more simple door, made of the same metal most things were in this day and age.

"Don't worry about this place for now- you'll be here again, but that's unimportant. Classes will start in two days, so first and foremost we need to protect your identity, just like we do with all our professors. This right here will make your image indescribably unique and vague in the eyes of your students- they won't piece together a thing about who you really are," Zack says as he pulls a shining silver mask from God-knows-where. It had no holes for one's eyes, nose, or mouth. Mason could feel a faint, distorted intensity from the mask. He couldn't help but recall the rumors of Dynamo's professors all wearing masks to hide their identities- it seems that was truth.

"A mask? How can a mask hold mental energy like this?" Mason asked.

"This mask is very special, and is a creation by the leader of the board. As mentioned previously, applying mental energy to the inanimate is quite difficult... but what if someone was specialized in using mental energy to form objects themselves? Me and this wonderful couple," Zack says while gesturing to the fed up looking officer and salaryman, "are quite accomplished exosuit pilots. While the leader of the board can not pilot an exosuit, his abilities in fields like this one are absolutely unmatched."

"I'm still quite unsure I'm cut out to teach..."

"That won't be a problem. You're about to receive a personal crash course in exosuits- both in using them yourself, and showing others how to use them. I'm sure you'll be fine. Now, hurry up and put on the mask, I don't got all day."

Sighing to himself, Mason steps forward and takes the mask from Zack's outstretched hands, and puts it on. Seemingly sticking directly to his dusky skin immediately, he brings his fingers up and feels his face, shocked at how it seems to feel like there is nothing on him at all. In response to this scene, Zack nods, putting on a flippant smile.

"Yup, you feel like a whole new person. You actually seem somewhat respectable!"

"Totally unlike you then?" Mason shoots back.

"...Stop talking. Hurry up, we're gonna spar. Now."