Part 2
### Chapter 1: The Ceiling
Back in my previous life, there was something that always bothered me about Meili. I couldn't figure out the significance of her name.
Every other character in Unordinary had some sort of wordplay or clever meaning behind their name. For example, Rei was named after the Japanese god of lightning, while Ventus' name was the Latin word for wind. Seraphina was named after high-ranking angels, most likely in reference to her high ability level and social status. Hell, even 'John Doe' held a special meaning, considering what John represented in the Early chapters of Unordinary.
Meanwhile, Meili's name was the Chinese word for beautiful. It had nothing to do with her ability and was only tangentially related to her character. She was pretty, sure, but nothing special compared to Leilah or Cecile. Perhaps because she was merely a side character, the author of Unordinary didn't put as much effort (comparatively) into designing her. It made a lot of sense – she only played a significant role for about five chapters and faded straight into the background for the rest of the story.
Then, right as I had that thought, the pitter-patter of raindrops on my soaking wet uniform shocked the world into clarity.
My crimson claws pierced half a foot deep into my opponent's flesh. And while he gasped and bled over my red-stained hands, I had a sudden epiphany about the meaning of my name. 'Meili' was a pun on Melee, a reference to my close-range combat ability.
"Pfft."
And, after a small fit of situationally inappropriate laughter, I smoothly removed my claws from my victim's chest cavity.
*Splurch*
I smirked, deactivating my ability as I stared down at his unconscious form.
"I wonder if he got the joke."
***Beautiful***
Meili's Journal
Entry #1:
Dear future self,
Today is my tenth birthday, and I've been in this world for three months. (Kind of an oxymoronic sentence if you really think about it). I write this because there's a lot of common knowledge and expected behavior in this world that an otherworlder like me has no clue about, and as I get older, I won't be able to use my age as an excuse for my cluelessness.
Trying to learn a new set of cultural norms and expected behaviors has been challenging because many of them contradict what existed in my previous life. To compensate for my unfortunate mental blocks, I will use this journal to note down all the subconscious, "obvious" things that "everybody knows."
And you (yes, I'm talking to you, future self) will review this journal every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed.
1. "What's your ability?" is the second most common conversation starter, behind only "What's your name?" on the podium, competing for the silver medal with "Where are you from?"
Discussion about abilities and levels is perfectly acceptable, even expected, really. It's to the point that avoiding the subject will make you a weirdo. If anyone brings it up at school, DO NOT SHY AWAY. There's a high chance they'll think you're an easy target.
Additionally, being evasive or vague about your level is considered impolite in specific contexts. As I write this, the doctor last measured my level at 2.5. If I introduce myself and say, "I'm a mid-tier," most people would get offended by the vagueness.
2. They're only fifth graders, but you still have to pay attention to your classmates' ability levels.
Knowledge of where "people stand" will be essential, even if it makes your otherworlder sensibilities feel gross or icky. 2.0 is the minimum benchmark set for children of elite-tier parents entering middle school, while anyone within the 2.5-3.0 range has a decent chance of becoming a high-tier. The fastest periods of ability growth are generally the mid to late teen years.
A ten-year-old with an ability level of 2.0 is projected to reach:
2.4 by the time they enter high school,
3.1 by the time they reach college,
and 3.5 as a fully-matured adult.
The projected progress of a 2.5 ten-year-old is, on average:
3.0 - entering high school
4.2 - entering university
4.7 - fully grown adult
For 3.0, there's a lot more variance, but the averages look like this:
3.6 - entering high school
5.2 - reaching college
5.8 - full maturity
If you meet a middle-schooler who is already an elite-tier, do not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES make an enemy out of them. That kid will likely grow up to be a god-tier, a member of the 0.001%.
.
.
.
I stared into the mirror, poking at my face and fixing my hair into place, studying the changes in my reflection as I moved. My morning routine was to wake up, brush my teeth, wash my face, and fix my hair - just like everybody else. Or almost, but not quite. It differed in a singular, important step: I read a couple of old journal entries every day before eating breakfast.
I never told a soul about the journal, even my parents, and made sure to hide it behind the bookshelf in my bedroom after using it.
Why the secrecy, you ask? It all started four and a half years ago, when the universe suffered a microscopic paper cut. There was no apocalypse, no plague, no mass chaos. The paper cut was merely my displacement of a nine-year-old girl. It went something like this:
One minute, she was there. The next minute, she was gone.
Poof,
Nada,
Nothing,
Gone.
All of these words could explain it just as well as any other. And so I'd lived in Meili's stead for four and a half years.
Her body remained, evidenced by the red-headed young woman who always stared back at me in the mirror. Her memories hadn't vanished: I could still recall critical events in her life, like the morning she awakened her ability or the day of her eighth birthday party.
But all that was secondary. Meili had vanished, and I was the one doing all the recalling, remembering, and staring into the mirror, not her.
I hated to think about what might have happened to her, but sometimes the thoughts would pop up against my will when I saw myself. Maybe staring at the girl you made disappear did that to you - whether it was your fault or not.
Did I feel bad about it? Of course! But the feeling was a little muted, the type of guilt where you weren't entirely sure if a bad thing was your responsibility or not... mainly because I was just a regular person in my previous life. I wasn't Shiva, I didn't have control of my next reincarnation; I hadn't even thought reincarnation was real. Even if I had, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to live my next life in the body of a character as minor and uninteresting as Meili.
And then there was the one true question: if it hadn't been my soul, my consciousness, to take her place, couldn't it have been someone else's?
Maybe she would have been dead all the same.
"Meili? Are you still using the bathroom?" My mother shouted from downstairs. "The drive to Wellston is only half an hour; you can do whatever you need to do once we get there!"
My face flushed a kind of pink in embarrassment, sort of matching the shade of my hair in the mirror. "Sorry, Mom! I'm coming down!" I quickly said, scrambling to fix my messy clothes and appearance before rushing out of the bathroom.
Right.
I calmed myself down, my mind automatically grabbing on to the stage directions that had kept everything on track. We were a normal, regular, loving family. Everything was fine. I was fine.
To my mother and father, I was Meili. To my middle school classmates and teachers, I was Meili. From everyone else's perspective, she was still alive - because I had never once let my guard down, never stopped performing until I was her and she was me.
And they were all better off for it, I liked to think.
As far as anyone else was concerned, Meili underwent a sudden maturation at the beginning of puberty. She became more responsible and intelligent, got better grades, and stopped getting into unnecessary fights at school.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
I made sure to be a better student, better friend, better daughter than she was. Better than she would have been, had she lived. I even worked and trained my ability every day to maintain my family's status in this world's backward social hierarchy.
Because I didn't want to be a murderer.
Instead of taking her away, hadn't I added a better person to the world, added a better person to these people's lives?
All of these questions and issues weren't new, of course. I'd had similar thoughts many times before, a fact that dulled them into an undercurrent as I reached the garage.
My dad, Haoyu, was loading the last of my luggage into the trunk of our minivan. He was about average height and well-built, with a thinning head of straight black hair that he wore with pride at age 47. Meanwhile, my mom, Alice, had already claimed her rightful place in the front passenger seat. She busied herself by adjusting the angle of her chair. Her long, cartoon-red hair pressed tightly against the seat's leather as she reclined.
I found her hair impossibly stunning - a bit self-servingly, since mine was similar. But it was also the normal type of impossible, had I been in my original world. I couldn't help but take a longer-than-normal glance; one of my many otherworlder tendencies was the way people's hair colors sometimes caught me off guard.
"Oh, are you ready to leave, Princess?" My dad asked, motioning me over with his hand. "If you can handle saying goodbye to our beautiful bathroom, I think it's time we set off."
I nodded, suppressing a laugh as I wrapped him in a hug. "You know I stopped wanting you to call me that like, four and a half years ago, right?" I asked. "But yeah, I think it's time we get going. Mom's in such a hurry that it feels like she's allergic to the house or something."
"I'm only eager to see the Wellston campus," she protested. "It's been almost three decades since your father and I were students there. Just a glance at the website and Principal Vaughn's changed enough to give me a heart attack."
My dad chuckled, sliding into the driver's seat and starting the engine. "Mmm-Hmm. Well, I never expected a skinny guy like him to grow a full beard, that's for sure."
Mom slapped him on the leg.
"I don't know, Dad," I said. "That two-week-old stubble isn't doing you any favors here…"
"Hey!"
I smiled, rolling down my window to feel the cool summer breeze as we pulled out of the driveway. We were moving early (the school year wouldn't actually start for another week), but the Wellston High School administration suggested that students move into the dorms well in advance.
"If nothing else, Vaughn's a better administrator than I could ever be," my father admitted once we stopped at a red light. "Wellston had quite the reputation back when I was a student, but it's even more prestigious now. I mean, Agwin was near-equal to us back in the day, and the gap is larger now than ever before."
"Vaughn's certainly done a good job, but we shouldn't act like that's all it is." My mom rubbed him on the shoulder, interrupting. "If I recall correctly, the previous two principals were barely even high tiers. Was it a 5.0 for a semester, then a 5.1?"
She sighed regretfully. "I thought they did quite well, but it's only natural that they struggled to attract high-level talent to the school. The two weren't much stronger than us!"
"It certainly doesn't hurt that the man's nearly an 8.0," my father said in agreement. "No high-tier likes to listen to those weaker than them, but I bet it's never been much of a problem for him!"
My mother nodded. "Speaking of, you wouldn't believe what happened at the clinic the other day, Haoyu. Our newest physician, the one I mentioned yesterday, started ordering me around!"
"The new one? Isn't she straight out of med school?"
"Exactly. But she's a 5.2, so you know how it goes..."
I groaned mentally at their conversation, immediately attempting to tune it out. The hierarchy's harshness had a particular way of forcing me out of any good mood I managed, so I didn't want to deal with it.
In this world, even high-tiers, people in the top two percentiles of strength, were considered 'too weak' to hold certain positions of authority.
My parents were among the privileged, with their ability levels of 4.6 and 4.7. But even they frequently complained about the injustice in their lives. I counted eight or nine distinct stories of a high-tier colleague receiving a promotion in lieu of my father at his marketing firm, and my mother's clinic would never trust her to perform surgeries on VIP clients. The 'elite ceiling' always held them back.
Yes, there was even a name for it - 'elite ceiling' - for the invisible barrier that held back all those elite-tiers who could never seem to land a top job over a high-tier coworker. My mother and father probably counted. Elite-tiers comprised most employees at their respective workplaces, but high-tiers dominated the middle and upper management layers (a fact they frequently drilled into my head).
As they finished talking, I made a dumb joke and asked some trivial questions about the school's campus in an attempt to lighten the mood. It worked, for the most part. But there was also a stiffness in my parents' shoulders, a certain tension in their faces, that signaled that something was wrong.
.
.
.
Socks here, Underwear here, towels there. Did we forget the double-sided tape? How am I going to stick this poster on the wall?
Unpacking and decorating a dorm room was a boring business, having gone through it multiple times as a college student in my previous life. My mom and dad certainly weren't interested enough to stick around; instead, they had left for a nostalgia trip around campus.
Left to sort supplies and move around decorations all by my lonesome, it was dull enough that my mind wandered to far more esoteric and random (but interesting) things, like Wellston's boarding system.
For example, when it came to getting an elusive single room in the Wellston dormitories, the only thing that really mattered was your place in the hierarchy. That wasn't what they said on their website, of course.
We use a holistic review process to grant select students the opportunity for a single room. Personal and academic excellence are our main factors of consideration… Blah blah blah.
According to literally anyone in the universe, the real meaning of personal excellence was an open secret. And of course, if a student's 'personal excellence' was excellent enough, the administration would ignore any weaknesses in the academic department.
All of this ultimately meant that only higher-tier students ever got the privilege to have a room for themselves, with maybe a genius, 150 IQ low-tier thrown into the mix as a charity case once every few years.
The only slight exception to this rule might have been me. I had discovered that my 'personal excellence' was surprisingly high when the Wellston Housing staff mailed me the key to a single room.
At 3.0, My ability level was good for a freshman but not unique compared to the student population at Wellston High. Fortunately, I made up for what I lacked in the ability department with legacy and connections – my parents weren't only alumni but former classmates of Vaughn, the current principal.
...And an adult mind in the body of a 14-year-old did wonders for one's test scores.
So when I finally finished moving into my spacious, single-person dorm room, it felt like I had brought a piece of my old universe with me. I was possibly the only student who had gotten their privileges mostly from good old-fashioned nepotism instead of ability discrimination.
It's kind of refreshing , I thought. Then I flinched and jumped slightly. A blunt, muted noise echoed through the room, loud enough to reach my ears through thick brick walls.
"Where did you two come fro… Hey! Stop! Do you have any idea–" The muffled sound of a shouting boy soon followed, though I couldn't tell where it was coming from. I paused, my body as still as the man on my poster, entirely focused on figuring out where the commotion was happening. Was there a fight in the hallway? Maybe something was happening on the floor below?
No, that's wrong. The noises are coming from-
I quickly rushed to the window.
I activated my ability, monstrous crimson claws growing from my hands along with a boost to my hearing and vision. I slammed my windowpane open, then peered down to find a group of Three students in Wellston uniforms cornering a purple-haired boy to the wall of my building.
The lone boy was clearly injured and exhausted, breathing hard, with numerous cuts and bruises littering his upper body. From my angle above him, I couldn't tell how badly his legs were injured, but the way he moved was stilted, almost like he was limping.
The group surrounding him was also pretty banged up, especially the green-haired guy who stood at the front, but none of them were in as bad a shape as the lone boy.
"Not so strong now, are you, hmm? Skinny little bitch." The guy was grinning like an animal, palms glowing with neon green energy. "You always lo-ooved to beat my ass back when we were in middle school, but you don't seem so tough now."
"I beat you up a lot because you kept starting shit with me, idiot!" Purple boy shouted back. "What was I supposed to do? Lose to you on purpose? And don't try to take the high road now . Your two stooges ambushed me as soon as you started losing!"
"Shut your mouth!"
The green-haired guy unleashed an energy laser straight into the lone teen's stomach, sending him cratering into the brick wall of my dorm building with a thud. The back of his head collided harshly with the wall, and he crumpled into a limp heap on the ground as he coughed up blood.
"A-are you sure about this, Kralik?" Another student, a brown-haired boy with glasses, questioned. "Isn't this guy a 3.0? You're only a 2.7, plus he's a freshman, a grade below us!"
"Yeah… I'm not sure this is such a good idea," added the other one, a tall blonde girl. "Doesn't that mean he's only gonna get stronger than you? What will you do if he challenges you to a solo rank battle?"
The boy, newly dubbed Kralik, laughed in response. "Come on, haven't you heard? The new king, Rei, has a soft spot for us weaklings. He made it against the rules to challenge people weaker than you by more than 0.2. Plus, even if Ventus here complains about a gangfight, it'll be his word against ours!"
"I guess…"
"That makes sense."
The two replied in unison.
"Ugh... Rei - Rei graduates next year, doesn't he?" Ventus managed in response, having pulled his body partway against the wall. "You'll be dead, then. I can wait a year for a new set of rules."
Watching from my windowsill, I nearly palmed my forehead in disbelief. The purple guy was Ventus? Was I supposed to believe he would eventually become one of the strongest students in the school? Here he was, letting a group of mediocre mid-tiers beat him up. Not only that, but to provoke the group right as things were winding down?
Then I had the thought: was this how Meili and Ventus became friends in the original unOrdinary universe? I considered it momentarily, stomach dropping when I realized that it would have been totally in character for Meili to intervene in the fight.
"Oooh! Scary," Kralik mocked him back, turning to his group. "Guys, what do you say we make it so that Ventus won't be able to back up his words?"
The blonde girl giggled. "Sure, that sounds good. And we can even call it preemptive self-defense."
I grimaced, totally indecisive, as thoughts piled up and crashed into each other. Sure, Ventus ended up perfectly fine in the original series, but that might have only been because Meili helped him. I didn't want to get involved in a 3v1, but if I didn't do anything, there was a chance that my first major change to canon would be missing legs.
"Ooh… Great Idea. And dude!" Kralik turned to the boy with the glasses."Didn't he keep dodging and deflecting all your energy missiles? I think you gotta get at least one good hit on him,"
He seemed to ponder it momentarily, hesitating, before nodding in agreement. "Y-you're right! You know what? I was getting sick and tired of the smug look on his face as he dodged my missiles. I – I think he deserves a broken kneecap for that."
Kralik high-fived him with a grin. "That's my man! Hey Ventus! You hear that? My friend will take out your left knee, and I'll blast a hole through your right. How does that sound?"
Ventus snarled, trying and failing to rise off the ground.
"You guys are going to regret this, you understand? My family is full of elite and high-tiers. It's in my blood to be better than - Ugh!"
The blonde girl sped forward using her ability, downing Ventus with a knee to the chest.
"Stop being so annoying," she spat on his unconscious body. "We wouldn't have taken you down if you were all that."
Crap.
She kicked him around, and then they all started taking turns. I couldn't stop myself from wincing at the savagery occurring right below my windowsill. Fights were regular occurrences in this world, doubly so at schools, but I hadn't expected to be met with such a brutal one right as I moved in.
The girl's ability was primarily a speed enhancement type, so she couldn't do too much damage, but at 2.7 Kralik's laser could surely gore through bone. The situation was definitely getting out of hand, and I really, really didn't want to get involved in the fight.
So there was only one other thing I could try.
I eyeballed the distance to Ventus' prone body, cringing at the likelihood my plan would fail. I'm on the second floor, so maybe twenty feet above the ground, and he's like twelve feet away from being a straight shot. So the square root of 20 squared plus - holy crap they might actually kill him.
At the sight of Kralik charging up another energy beam, I hurriedly thrust my right arm out the window, stretching the aura in my hand as best I could. It was a move I'd frequently practiced in middle school, motivated by my desire to improve beyond the original Meili. But I had never gotten it to work well.
This time, it worked.
Instantly, my claws lengthened and narrowed, each individual 'finger' morphing from handlike proportions to dimensions closer to a 20-foot needle. I hooked my claw under Ventus' collar, hoped it could support his weight, and retracted – just barely in time to pull him out of the line of fire.
My claws were thankfully sturdy enough to pull Ventus into my room safely, a thin scarlet line streaking through the air like a grappling hook. The last thing I saw before shutting the window and closing my blinds was the bewildered look of shock Kralik wore on his face.
Serves him right , I thought.
--------------------------------------------------
### Chapter 2: The Ceiling Part Two
"At this point, I'm scared they might actually kill him, so I try to extend my claws and…"
In his lengthy tenure as head of student medicine at Wellston Private High School, Darren Brown had encountered thousands of reckless students and a dozen idiotic conflicts for each of them. And yet, as he hurried to prepare the components for a fast-acting regenerative tonic, he couldn't help but wonder if today's incident took the cake.
He sighed in exasperation, palmed his forehead, and felt that its wrinkles had once again multiplied.
Such was life when you had to care for a thousand violent, superpowered teenagers. As the old saying went, "The real loser of a fight is the guy who has to heal both fighters."
Not that it was actually an old saying. He'd just started using it so people could understand that their violence made his life tangibly more miserable.
At least the rare nonviolent Wellston student still isn't extinct , he thought, glancing at the redheaded young woman recounting her experiences. Meili Strauss. She'd tried her best to de-escalate and prevent injuries, the absolute pinnacle of what he could expect from a high schooler.
Assuming her story wasn't grossly twisted or fabricated, naturally. After past incidents he knew to double-check.
"...And then, after I made sure they were gone, I activated my ability and carried him here as fast as I- Is something wrong, Doctor Darren?" She glanced back at him. "Was I going a little too fast?"
He coughed, belatedly realizing that he'd been staring. "Sorry about that. I was just meaning to ask you to elaborate more about the fight."
"Oh. You should have told me that I'd missed something."
He shook his head. "You didn't. I always prefer that students give me a general rundown of a conflict before diving into specifics - but to clarify, you're saying that a green-haired second-year named Kralik challenged Ventus here to a fight." He gestured incredulously to the unconscious teen, "and then had two of his friends ambush Ventus in the middle of it?"
"I only saw the part where they ganged up on him, but that's my best guess as to what happened," Meili affirmed.
"And what are you basing this guess on?"
"Well, it's based on what they said when they were yelling at each other," she said. "If I remember correctly, Kralik was confronting Ventus for beating him up in middle school, and Ventus said that someone who planned to ambush him with multiple people didn't get to take the high ground."
"I see… What did Kralik say in response to that?"
"I think he shouted, 'Shut Your Mouth!' and blasted him with his energy beam ability," She said with a sardonic look, "So not exactly a denial."
Darren rubbed at his temples, chronic stress and frustration once again making their appearance in his brain's limbic system. You've got to be kidding me, he thought. I might have to deal with a blood feud between students… And the school year hasn't even started yet?
"Miss Strauss…" He began slowly.
"Yes?"
"Are you telling me that both sides of this conflict likely feel they were wronged, making it exceedingly probable that they will not only come to blows again - but continue to fight until one side is permanently disabled or worse?"
The girl shrugged, cracking a small smile.
"It's funny. My mom's actually a surgeon, and you sound similar to how she does whenever she rants about her repeat patients. I think you two would get along."
Darren sent some silent condolences to that poor, poor woman and himself.
"But let's put aside the issue of Ventus for now," she continued. "I had another reason to come here besides getting him medical attention. I was wondering if you could do an aura imaging scan on my hands… You have the equipment to do that here, right?"
Darren raised an eyebrow, making a small show of eyeing Ventus's grievous injuries.
"We certainly have the capability, but I would prefer you gave me a compelling reason first."
"Oh. No, I - It's not urgent. You should prioritize treating him," the girl stumbled. "It's just - the claw extension move I used to pull Ventus out of danger - I was never even able to get my claws to six feet in the past, but today I stretched them to twenty!"
"Mhm." He switched back to his serum-making work, nodding skeptically, not really understanding her point. "If anything, that sounds like a cause for celebration, not a medical examination."
"It would… The problem is that my ability, 'Demon Claws,' is pretty well documented online. I was doing some research on the way here, and from what I read, high-tier users can't even lengthen their claws to half that length."
She stared down at her hand, clenching and unclenching it. "And I'm certainly no high-tier, so I'm not sure if this is just the normal development of my ability or if there's something wrong with my aura channels."
Darren paused, trying to recall if he'd seen any similar cases, but came up short.
"That is quite abnormal," he muttered, drumming his index finger against the bottom of his chin. "Let me see what I can do."
He dug through his cabinet, searching for a particular... there it was.
"This is a unique type of camera," he explained, pulling it out of its case. "It has a lot of functions, one of them being aura pathway snapshots. If I were to give you a formal scan, it would require my complete attention for a while," he glanced at Ventus, "Which isn't a great idea. Instead, I can snap a few quick images now and run the analysis sometime else."
The camera was about half his salary, the type of equipment you'd usually find at a specialized research institute rather than a high school. The most egregious part was that barely anyone ever used it... but now he could finally put Wellston's extravagant, donor-funded medical budget to good use.
She nodded in understanding.
After he had taken a few pictures of her, the first aura snapshot was fully processed. It didn't reveal anything wrong at first glance, and Darren turned to take care of Ventus' injuries, resolving to do a deeper analysis of the images later. Meili said goodbye with a quick thank-you.
Still, as he quickly treated the teen boy's fractures and bruises, he couldn't help but notice a niggling feeling of deja vu in the back of his mind. How Meili described her concerns with her ability felt vaguely familiar. Perhaps a professor had mentioned a similar scenario in one of the niche elective classes he'd taken during university?
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Eyes widening in a sudden realization, he logged into his research database and typed a keyword search.
Ability Evolution Demon Claw .
***Beautiful***
The parking lot was mostly empty, populated only by the cars of a few families who had chosen to get their kids settled in a week before school started.
"My beautiful baby girl… I can't believe that happened right as you moved in. What were we thinking, sending you away like this?" My dad whined, squeezing me in a constricting stranglehold hug.
Unfortunately for me, my family was one of those few, and my father didn't seem to want to leave me on my own.
"Can you stop it, Dad," I said, slightly mortified. "Everything turned out just fine. I didn't get injured, and Doctor Darren was great at dealing with the situation."
He wrapped me tighter, and I sighed. "It's only a thirty-minute drive from the house to Wellston; you could see me every day if you're really that worried."
My mom mussed up my hair with a smile.
"But you can understand where we're coming from, can't you?" she said. Most parents are terrified of sending their grown-up children to college. We're sending our 14-year-old to live alone at boarding school!"
I nodded a little, patting him on the back rhythmically. My embarrassment at their protectiveness mainly stemmed from the fact that I had been a full-grown adult in my previous life, but I also knew their worries. There was more to fear in this world's schools than even the worst public high school in my previous one.
"Everybody says that Wellston has some of the best medical technology and staff in the region. I believe it now that I've seen it firsthand," I tried to assure them. "Even if I end up getting hurt, I'm sure they'll be able to take care of me. Plus, I've gotten really good at avoiding fights and de-escalating conflicts - so don't worry! This is what middle school trained me for."
This was all true, but it didn't seem to help. As my father and I separated from our embrace, the worried bitterness in his expression seemed suddenly real, not half-joking like before.
He and my mother met eyes, communicating purely through their expressions… then looked away, both glancing toward the ground shamefully.
All the while, I stood there awkwardly, unable to understand what was happening.
"Is something wro-?"
"The doctor measured your ability level at 3.0 the last time we visited, right Meili?" She asked, seemingly out of the blue.
"Yeah. And I might've gotten a little bit stronger since then," I replied. "I've been training consistently and making steady progress… What is it?"
She avoided looking me straight in the eyes.
"You're finally at that age where rapid ability growth is possible, and it would be a shame for you to waste it." She grimaced, a sliver of frustration creeping up on her face. "I also want you to enjoy a low-stress, healthy school life, but I know as well as anybody how important your level is for success in life."
"I understand?" I replied. It was half a question and half a statement.
"What I think your mother means to say is that we've tried to instill good moral values into you, and we're delighted at what a mature person you've become," my father said gently. "Not many kids your age understand the value of peace, that brutalizing others is rarely the answer, but…" he trailed off.
"Yes?"
"But - but there's nothing wrong with getting into it as a high-schooler, especially at a school like Wellston. It's part of the school's culture!" He gave a shaky smile. "A-and conflict is good for development. You've heard the phrase 'steel sharpens steel' before, right?"
I blinked at him, confused. "Are you telling me to get into fights purposefully?"
"All we want is for you to reach your full potential," he said quietly. "Meili, we believe you have the talent to become a high-tier, and the research says that the best way to do that is to get into serious battles very often. You're a smart girl. You understand, right?"
My mother and father, arm-in-arm, wore the saddest, most untruthful smiles I had ever seen. At that moment, twenty journal entries since my arrival, I finally started understanding the world that I lived in.
So I smiled back.
"I get it. You only want what's best for me, right?"
***Beautiful***
Meili's Journal
Entry #21:
Dear future self,
Let me first make a note to explore the new aspects of my ability. Now that you can extend and manipulate the shape of your claws to such a great extent, you should probably spend some time practicing and experimenting to find your exact limits. Unless these changes result from some sort of harmful condition or injury, in which case you shouldn't.
Okay, enough about that. Onto the point of this journal entry.
I'm currently fourteen years old, writing this in my newly acquired dorm room at Wellston High School. This entry is actually my first one in over a year. I have a good reason. I intended that number twenty would be my last one.
I thought I understood common knowledge and common sense. I thought I could live a reasonably successful life by simply reviewing what I'd already learned.
I was wrong.
I've been thinking about this world as a kind of hyper-hierarchical lion's pride, where strength is used to secure social position. That's still a fine analogy. But it turns out that there's another layer to unpack. The incentive structures relating to ability progression in this world are terrifying.
God, my thoughts are so wildly unorganized right now… I'll try to give an example.
Imagine a 7-year-old named Judas who just unlocked his ability. Let's say Judas has two mid-tier parents, a 2.4 and a 2.5 (because that's how marriage works in this world).
Judas's parents want him to be successful in life (of course), so they do everything they can to ensure he achieves his full potential in terms of ability level. They've seen the benefits of a high ability level and want them for their child. As a result, Judas grows up encouraged by his parents to fight – not just to fight, but to resort to fighting at the first sign of a disagreement.
Why?
Because fighting (not play-fighting or sparring, but actual fighting with real stakes and anger) has been known for thousands of years to result in the highest amount of ability growth. Judas's parents want to maximize his ability growth, so they want him to get into as many conflicts as possible from an early age.
Let's say Judas is slightly more genetically predisposed towards violence, anger, and conflict than average. He's perfectly fine with his parents' encouragements, and he ends up maxing out his inherent ability potential. By the time he's an adult, he's reached a final level of 2.7.
Now, imagine Judas has a fraternal twin brother, Adam.
Adam has the same inherent ability potential of 2.7. The only significant difference between them is that Adam is genetically predisposed towards compromise, conflict avoidance, and peace. Adam's moral inclinations naturally swing toward the 'violence is evil/wrong' side of things, and he hates to resolve issues through fighting.
Adam still trains a lot, but his growth as a teenager is lackluster compared to Judas, and by the time he's a fully grown adult, his ability level is stuck at 2.2.
Who do you think is more likely to have children, Judas or Adam?
Yeah, the brother with a higher ability level, who functions more confidently within the hierarchy, who is vastly favored by their parents, and is likely higher-paid/more successful. All else being equal, people more predisposed towards violence are more likely to reproduce.
I think this world has been breeding peaceful people to extinction since the dawn of civilization.
I've met a whole lot more Judases than Adams in my 4.5-year stay in this world. I thought it was simply a result of cultural influences, but it's become apparent that isn't the case. Violence isn't 'wrong' here in the same way it was in my old world. It probably hasn't been for generations.
Murder is a crime, assault is a crime. Reporters still denounce violent aggression on TV. But that's just it, no one says the law has to be enforced, not when the culture is to fight and strike and bleed. I seriously doubt that such a massive difference in moral values can be society's doing alone. I think people are fundamentally different here.
I realize, now, that kindness and cooperation are privileges of the naturally gifted rather than universal virtues in this world.
My mother and father, for example, have a lot of high-tier ancestry – they probably could have become high-tiers themselves if they were more bloodthirsty. Even as elite-tiers, they've been able to make a good life for themselves. But I hate imagining what would have happened to them if they had mid-tier ancestry instead – if their relative peacefulness led to them ending up as low-tiers, unable to even land a decent career or live in a safe neighborhood.
They're good people, kind, moral people. I've struggled to understand this world because they're such positive outliers. But even still, it weighs heavily on them, the opportunities they've lost because they aren't high-tiers. Of course, they're doing just fine, but if they had to choose for me to end up stronger or weaker than they are…
They don't want me to be an Adam.
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