章節 13: Chapter XII: Learning

Have you ever tried meditating?

I have, many times. Back when I was younger and addicted to Naruto, I spent a good amount of time trying to tap into the spiritual side of life. And although, as expected, I had no real success, I did learn some breathing techniques to slow my heart rate and clear my mind.

That's what I'd been doing for several days now, ever since I found out, thanks to the system, that I was a psyker. And that's exactly what I was doing at that moment.

Unfortunately, I didn't know much about the lore of Warhammer in that regard. I only knew the basics, the superficial stuff about what some individuals were capable of. I never had the chance to read any novels or short stories about the daily life of a psyker, or how they managed to manifest their powers, channel them, and make them grow.

During the day, I'd tried multiple times to use telekinesis or enhance my own physical strength. In the dark corridors, after returning from guiding people on missions, I would attempt to summon fire or some other element. Yet, up to this point, I hadn't had any luck or made any progress.

I had no idea how to use my mutant psyker abilities.

You see, what I knew about psykers was that they channelled a form of energy known as the Immaterium through themselves. Their minds and bodies, to varying degrees, were more attuned to moulding and harnessing the parallel dimension known as the warp. The manifestation of this energy varied depending on the user, reaching extremes where one could perform unimaginable feats like consuming entire worlds, enslaving civilisations, or tearing apart reality, time, and space as if they were nothing.

Some could even conjure warp storms that would engulf entire solar systems, disintegrating everything in their path.

But, just as they had such destructive potential, they also had simpler, more practical abilities, such as making the body faster, stronger, and more agile, or enhancing someone's cognitive processing, turning them into unparalleled geniuses.

The range of abilities and things you could achieve as a psyker was quite vast. The only real downside was the constant danger of demonic possession and being destroyed by the very same energies you wielded. The body of a psyker had to be capable of withstanding such immense energy without exploding into a cloud of blood. A fate, tragically, all too common for most humans.

However, my trait of [Incorruptible] gave me an advantage like no other. It could potentially turn me into a figure as grand as the God-Emperor of Mankind in the future, leaving me with no real worries as I learned to master my abilities.

Unfortunately, over the past few days, I'd also discovered that this very trait made it much harder for me to uncover my psyker abilities. If memory served, people who awakened their abilities usually heard the whispers of the Immaterium, able to perceive a mystical call that would torment them day and night. And it was precisely that which made the Imperium of Mankind so harsh with unsanctioned psykers, as they were known. These individuals needed immense willpower not to doom entire worlds to demonic possession or accidentally open a portal to the Immaterium, through which hordes of infernal creatures would unleash the worst imaginable fate upon any living thing in their path.

But that very weakness was also the reason why many of the most powerful figures in Warhammer 40,000 were so respected and iconic. To survive such a fate required an unbreakable will and an incredible natural talent.

And since I couldn't hear those voices, those whispers or mystical calls, I had to resort to the most tedious and slow method available to me—trial and error.

Sadly, no one could help me in my current position. If anyone discovered I was a psyker, they would most likely report me to the authorities, who'd drag me far away—if I was lucky enough not to be killed on the spot. In the best-case scenario, I'd be tortured for years under the Imperium's regime until I became a Sanctioned Psyker. I'd be forced to impregnate a part of the soul of the Emperor of Mankind in a painful process that would leave me visibly scarred. And even then, I'd be watched every single day for the rest of my life, just to ensure that after years of training, suffering, and torture, after protecting myself in the Emperor's divine light, I wouldn't turn into a demon or become corrupted by Chaos.

And that's not even mentioning what would happen if someone discovered I had [The Forge System].

Only someone like me, another unsanctioned psyker, could somewhat guide me and give me an idea of the process they go through. But thinking I could just bump into someone like that on the street was foolish. Most psykers tried to hide their nature at all costs since their very survival depended on it.

Perhaps I could find psykers in the Underhive, though they'd likely be corrupted by Chaos or exiled pariahs, far removed from any semblance of civilisation.

Letting out a long sigh and opening my eyes again, I saw the dark, worn ceiling of Beatrix's room. Last night, we'd been out late at O'Shalle's Bar while she sang and celebrated the fact that Carrack would teach me how to pilot a ship.

Although I wouldn't have any practical lessons at first, the mere thought of someone giving me a basic understanding of how to fly a spaceship made it hard to contain the excitement and nerves building inside me.

After all, back on Earth, I'd only learned to ride a bike and a motorbike. Knowing that I'd be learning how to fly a bloody spaceship before ever driving a car had me wearing a stupid grin as I nestled Beatrix's body against mine, enjoying the brief warmth she provided while trying not to think about anything except what awaited me later that day.

Cuddling with Beatrix, for a brief moment, I understood why so many men suffer daily. Between Beatrix's firm, warm, and surprisingly toned buttocks that engulfed my rather excited member, and the thrill of learning to fly, I found myself quite content.

The scent and warmth of a woman were a balm, soothing and calming any man's spirit. Her curves and body were the finest of pillows to ease the aches of muscles worn from arduous days.

There, for several minutes, I enjoyed the contact with Beatrix's body. Sadly, she began to wake up, and with a swift kick to my legs, she pulled away, her face flushed with embarrassment. She shot me a reproachful look as we both prepared for the day ahead.

Grinning, I asked her while lacing up my boots, "What's up? Why are you looking at me like that?" Fully aware of the reason inside.

Beatrix, still blushing with embarrassment and indignation, huffed and gave me a playful slap on the shoulder before scolding me, "You know exactly why! Do you think it's normal to wake up your friend w-w-with something like that pressed against her!?"

Her expression was so comical I could almost see steam coming out of her head as she said this, while I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, a little spooning between friends never hurt anyone, right?" I teased with a conspiratorial grin, letting out a chuckle.

"STOP IT, GINOoO!" she exclaimed, turning and stomping out of her small room, her blush reaching down to her neck, as I followed behind, still laughing.

...

The corporation where Carrack, Jarro, Trav, Helmut, and Lando worked had a presence on certain upper levels of the surface of Vandalor, though most of its operations were concentrated in the mid-levels of the hive city, in an area with higher social and economic status, hundreds of levels above where we currently operated.

During the days we spent gathering information and forming bonds with Carrack and his group, Beatrix and I gradually uncovered the scope of operations of this corporation, called Societari Transportarum. It worked closely with several noble houses on Vandalor and merchant conglomerates from the Ixaniad sector.

They had hangars, cargo bays, and massive warehouses where they handled the logistics and transportation of goods between their clients, doing the grunt work for merchant and transport ships arriving at Vandalor.

Carrack worked on Level 55, near the district where I had been scouting various material prices the day before. The area was packed with factories and warehouses full of raw materials, ready to be hauled to storage bays on the upper levels or loaded directly onto the merchant and transport ships.

The constant flow of goods and workers created a controlled chaos. While I'd already met Carrack in a more relaxed setting, like the bar, I knew that here, in his workplace, things would be different. The formality and pace of life were on another level.

Beatrix and I walked through the crowded corridors of Level 55, taking in the bustling activity around us. Dockworkers moved crates with servo-lifters while supervisors barked orders, and the sirens of cranes echoed through the narrow industrial walkways. The air was thick with smoke and metallic dust, accompanied by a dense smell I couldn't quite place. But seeing the ships moving between hangars and navigating through the hive city's skies, beyond the thick gaseous mantle covering the horizon, I assumed it had something to do with their engines.

Several times, we were stopped by patrols from a noble house that made rounds between the different buildings. Their scrutinising gazes bore into us, but we stood our ground and, with their guidance, made our way to where Carrack and his crew awaited us, standing outside a large building, curious eyes watching our arrival.

It was lunchtime, after all.

"Well, look at those faces! I didn't realise showing up now would make you all look so miserable," I joked as I walked up, offering a handshake to Carrack, Lando, Helmut, Jarro, and Trav in that order. I could only see their eyes, though, as they wore masks that covered the lower half of their faces.

As I shook their hands, I also noticed they were wearing what looked like some kind of metallic, jet-black exoskeleton, which I assumed was part of their work gear.

"This'll be a real show, watching you try to learn," Lando replied, his voice tinged with metallic distortion. "We've even made a few bets."

I raised an eyebrow at his words. "Oh yeah? What's the wager?"

As we walked to the side of the hangar, where several containers and metal crates sat beside a crane and an anti-grav transport vehicle, Lando explained, "Trav here bet 20 credits that you won't understand a thing and that this'll be your only visit."

He nodded toward Trav, then gestured to Jarro. "Jarro's got 25 credits on the idea that you'll be asking to pilot a ship by the end of the day and that we'll be seeing you more often." Finally, he pointed toward Helmut and Trav. "The three of us bet 15 credits each that our boss is going to kick you out before you even get a chance to ask to fly anything."

There was a teasing tone in his voice as the others nodded in agreement. I turned to Carrack and grinned.

"Well, what I really want to know is what my teacher thinks," I said with a laugh. "After all, I'm counting on him."

"You seem like someone with a focused mind, Gino," Carrack began, gesturing with his hand as we stood by the bustling hangar, "but that alone won't cut it if you plan on piloting a ship in the future. I don't know what kind of ship you'll be using, but many require a special touch to make them do what you want."

He gestured towards a large, sturdy-looking vessel in the distance. "Some ships need patience, others require finesse. That ship over there is the one I fly." He pointed his thumb towards a hulking craft, easily over twenty metres long by my rough estimate. Its greyish hull was marked with various emblems, though it was clear the ship had seen better days.

"She's called Operarium Itineratus, a small freighter. She needs a bit of patience and delicacy to handle. And just like her, there are plenty of other ships that take time to get to know." With a slight tilt of his head, he signalled for me to follow him toward the Operarium Itineratus.

"When we board, I need you not to touch anything, yeah? We'll head to the cockpit, and I'll walk you through the controls, explaining what you need to know. We don't have much time, so if we don't cover everything, you'll need to come back tomorrow." He said this as I nodded along, determined not to mess up the only chance I had to improve my situation.

Stepping into the cargo bay of the ship, I felt a surge of excitement. For the first time, I was setting foot inside a spacecraft. My heart raced, and it was hard to contain my growing anticipation as I took in the interior of the freighter with great interest.

We passed through a metallic hatch and into the cockpit. The space was tight, forcing me to duck slightly as we entered. Carrack took his seat and began his lesson, while I absorbed every word with intense curiosity.

A greenish light illuminated our faces as Carrack flicked a switch, bringing the control panel to life. My eyes quickly darted to his hand, which rested on a control stick, covered by a black glove with small hair-like fibres on the palm.

"This here," he said, gesturing to the glove, "is a pilot's glove. There are more advanced versions out there, but this helps improve your reaction time when controlling the ship, got it?"

I nodded, eager to learn, and he continued. "Now, the first thing you need to know before flying, or even putting on this glove, is how to power up your ship and make sure you're not losing pressure or oxygen. You see this panel here? When these lights are on, it means…"

For the next 45 minutes, I was utterly absorbed in Carrack's explanations. He walked me through each function on the control panel, giving me a basic understanding of navigation and piloting. He answered all my questions, and I soaked it all up like a sponge.

Eventually, we were interrupted by Lando's voice calling from behind the hatch, telling us it was time to go. Both Carrack and I seemed to snap out of the trance we'd been in. We agreed to continue the lessons the next day.

As we stepped out, Trav looked defeated, begrudgingly handing over 20 credits to the rest of the group. Meanwhile, I felt a sense of renewed energy. I had started to grasp the basics, thanks to Carrack's patient instruction.

Though I hadn't earned any money that morning, leaving Level 55 felt like I'd gained something far more valuable. The next day would only deepen what I had begun to learn.

My life, bit by bit, was falling into place.