That Time an American was Reincarnated into Another World

I rolled silently through the gates of the Treehouse, only breaking my vigil briefly to notify Jasmine that I had returned before trudging through the muddy snow, bike in tow, to the garage. 

Jasmine was already there, waiting for me with a downcast face. She gave me a halfhearted flick of a hand and turned toward the adjoined briefing rooms. 

We passed by room after room, each dark and empty, until we finally arrived at one that somehow seemed more solemn than the rest. 

Jasmine just stood there, massaging her temples. I tried to speak, but Jasmine started first. 

“Alright, I’ll tell you about that Royal first. Purple body, digitigrade legs, face with a black hole on it surrounded by spiked teeth. That’s what’s known as a King Blood Royal, descended from a specific bloodline, higher than a normal Royal on the hierarchy.”

“So I’m guessing there are different levels of bloodlines for Royals.”

“Yes. King Bloods descend from the Kings. What you saw out there was a Royal of Despair… that you survived alone speaks to the sheer power of your Aura. Most would kill themselves on the spot under the influence of that hopelessness.”

“...”

I nodded quietly. It made sense, given what I had felt. Thankfully, I had also been far away, so I didn’t have to test whether or not I could actually resist that Aura. I probably could, but if I was that close in the first place, I would have bigger problems. 

My decision to book it right when I saw that thing was also wise. It probably saved my life. 

“The concern is that there’s a King Blood Royal nearby. They are always extremely powerful even for their Authority, so unless Alois, Miron, or Nonnen are exceptional, or unless they can team up, they will die in combat against it. That’s not to mention the other Authority 10 you felt, or if there are any others in the area, on top of their sheer numbers.”

“We need a Marshal.”

“That, and a brigade of soldiers. They’re mounting an offensive fit for a fortress against some forward base. As it is, Treehouse is going to fall, and I don’t want to be here for that.”

She paused for a moment, wrangling with a decision of some sort. 

“I’m going straight to the top. Neither Alois nor I should have jurisdiction over this anymore. I’m either going to get reinforcements, or we’re leaving. Besides, even discounting that, the base isn’t producing syrup in any significant quantities anymore. The nearby land’s too corrupted. If no reinforcements come, I’m not staying behind to get killed for no reason.”

“Mm.”

I nodded. Her thoughts were logical, but I didn’t see the Kingdom letting this base fall. 

The Scourge shattering Treehouse would give them a foothold in our lines. The Stronghold would soon come face to face with the same issue, but it would be even worse that time. They could surround us and starve us out while funneling armies around our flanks, straight into all the other frontline bases. 

However, neither the Treehouse nor Stronghold Charlie had the manpower necessary to defend against these offensives. But even if they did want to reinforce, could they even do it in time? And would the infrastructure here support so many more people? It would be a logistical nightmare. 

Either way, things were about to get very busy and very dangerous. 

“About those squads…”

Jasmine mumbled, wiping her face. 

“You can’t dwell on those things… too much. I’ve been in your shoes before. I’ve gotten people killed by my direct orders. For all our smarts, sometimes we just can’t avoid sacrifices. At the very least it wasn’t for nothing. The best we can do is make the most of it. Take a bit of time if you need to, but know that the longer you brood, the worse things will get. You managed to pick out two confirmed and one possible Scourge hideout just based on their general movements. One of them is a massive track for armies to pass through. This is big intel, and we need more smarts like those if we want to survive the upcoming hell.”

She walked over and patted my shoulder before turning and walking out of the room. 

I remained in place for some time, simply letting my thoughts churn with no particular direction. Sometimes, I just needed to let my own mind sort things out. 

Eventually, it came to its own conclusions as all the thoughts ran their course. I finally shifted again from my silent vigil, leaving the briefing room and headquarters. Jasmine was off to inform Polly about everything, who would then inform the Marshal, who would then inform whoever she needed to get a plan of action. After that, we’d probably get reinforcements on a massive scale. 

If they were going to defend this place, they wouldn’t do it half-assed. Significant fortifications would be necessary. I just hoped that we’d be able to do something about the Bombardos before they leveled this place. Massive numbers of soldiers wouldn’t do much good if they didn’t have any infrastructure backing them. They would either starve or linger around like sitting ducks. 

As for my part in all of this…

Well, I had already done my part. Any new plans from here on out were beyond me. That meant the only thing I could do was to make sure the ongoing mission ran its course smoothly. 

Pollux and half of the Pathfinders were already heading out to the eastern crossing to do recon. I had another day or so to make sure the other half and the infiltrators were prepared to head out there. Once the Snow Doves returned, we’d be leaving once more. 

Nothing much changed, because unless Pollux’s squads got wiped out, they would've hailed us with information on any enemy activity. The fact they didn’t meant it was either clear or they were dead. I was leaning more toward the former conclusion. 

So, until I was proven otherwise, we would proceed as planned. 

I would catalog gear and vehicles, finish briefing everyone on the plans for when we were out there, and continue collecting as much intelligence as possible on the surrounding battles…

All the pieces were in place and most of my to-do list was checked off. While part of me just wanted to lay down and quit everything, the other part of me knew that in order to get over the deaths of those squads, I needed to get out there and get busy. Being idle was dangerous right now, as it usually was. 

We’d be leaving soon. I just needed to keep myself going until then. 

Suddenly though, I looked down at my Aerial. 

I was getting a call from a friend I hadn’t spoken to in quite a while. 

……

…

“Come on! Use that speed we all know and love! You’re almost there!”

Brigadier Gurns shouted from the side of the training ground. The obelisk was bearing down on the surrounding gravity and the kid inside of it was struggling to stand. 

The weekly test was rather hellish, considering it was weekly – Gurns would’ve much preferred it daily, but alas… it was at least practical, and a great gauge for improvement. 

Under the influence of multiplied gravity, the trainee would utilize dull weapons to destroy waves of automatons. These automatons were segmented and held together by attraction magic, so if you hit one hard enough, it would fall apart like a toy. These were metal toys, of course, and it took extreme strength to break them apart, but that’s what made it a great workout. 

Feiden, after having fought through four waves, was facing the fifth. The glossy metal segments, scattered densly by the flagging force of his blows, reanimated themselves into another squad of five. This was the farthest he had ever gotten though, and it was clear that he was reaching his limit. 

What Feiden lacked in strength he made up for with speed and precision. His spear could accurately target weak spots, and Emission more than made up for what power he lacked. Gurns was often impressed with how deft his technique was and how honed his Aura showed itself to be — not that he let him know. The kid was tough as nails. He had proven his words to be true and had yet to be really broken. He just kept going. 

Of course, Feiden was not without downsides. 

“Come on! Three more! Don’t fucking fail!”

Putting it bluntly, his stamina sucked. Speed was definitely his specialty. He could concentrate a massive amount of power in small instants, and his body could weather that extreme stress. That made his average strength shine, especially when backed with his technique. He had no issues fighting Gurns’ Authority Seven soldiers to a standstill. Depending on who they were, he could even put them on their back foot. That was saying a lot, considering all of them were already special operators. During many battles, it looked like Feiden would come out on top. 

Only for a handful of minutes, however. 

By now it was common knowledge that Feiden didn’t have much stamina, and many of the soldiers understood that surviving longer was the way to win. Since they were a full Authority above him, they had no issues doing that, even if they were worse than him in other aspects. 

Gurns didn’t appreciate that. He appreciated how Feiden could fight so far above his own level, but only being able to do so for short bursts was asking to get killed. Thus, he set out to change that. It had been months already and Feiden was definitely improving, but he wasn’t satisfied. 

There was one thing that irked him though. 

“Huuhh…”

He heard Feiden heave for breath as if he were drowning, his spear snaking around the arm of another automaton and taking the limb off at the shoulder. Another couple thrusts and the thing went down, at the cost of almost all of Feiden’s remaining energy. 

The last Automaton came swooping in with the gap, punching Feiden in the gut with its oversized fist. Feiden was tossed a short distance, but he stayed on his feet, going silent. 

After a few seconds, he gasped. 

“Huuuhhh!!”

He had the wind knocked out of him, but he continued to defend against the lifeless enemy. Unfortunately, the hunk of metal couldn’t get tired, and it continued mercilessly pummeling him.

He got knocked around, a few wounds appearing on his body before he was thrown out of the battle circle like a wet rag. With that, he lost. 

“Fuck! You had one more fucking enemy to beat! Stand the fuck up!”

“Ugh…”

Feiden grunted, using his spear as a crutch to raise his body. 

He barely had the presence of mind to look up at Gurns, who grabbed his sweat-soaked shirt and pulled. 

“What the fuck is with you?! Even disregarding your shit stamina, your energy management makes me want to puke! You can’t seem to slow the fuck down! Even during the first wave you’re flying around like your life depends on it! By the third wave, your form falls apart, you move like a damned drunk! Then you’re dead by the fifth! I refuse to believe that your stamina is that atrocious! So what the fuck is with you?!”

Feiden was silent as he received his criticisms. From Gurns’ perspective, he should be lasting over eight waves. But right now he couldn’t even last a full five. Something was going on, and he wanted to know what. 

Feiden caught his breath, barely muttering when he no longer felt like he was suffocating. 

“I’m trying… to figure out… my Aura.”

“Figure it out? Fuck does that mean?”

“My… technique.”

“You’re trying to make a technique?”

Gurns’ brow raised, taking the edge off his voice. Making an Aura technique was no small matter. It would essentially determine your martial path, for better or worse. The fact that Feiden was even considering making one meant he was either an idiot or far more talented than he initially realized. 

He was inclined to believe the latter. He had already shown extraordinary skill. He had learned Emission at merely Authority Five. That alone placed him at the highest levels of talent. He was effectively guaranteed to hit Authority 10 or 11. 

But an Aura Technique? That wasn’t something you made unless you were both talented and were already pushing Authority 9 and 10. That was something you figured out in an attempt to surpass the Great Barrier. 

To do so at Authority 6? Gurns almost didn’t want to believe it. However, it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed peculiarities in Feiden’s Aura as he used it during battle. 

He was doubtful, but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Just in case. 

Feiden nodded. 

“I’m… almost there.”

“Is that right? How close is almost there?”

“...I want to call someone… They might be able to help me. Just a little bit, and I think I can figure it out… within the week.”

“Hm, fine then, I’ll bite. I’ll let you have your Aerial back for one call. Tomorrow.”

“Thank you…”

Feiden nodded again before suddenly falling to his knees. Gurns watched as fell on his face and passed out on the metal ground. 

He rolled his eyes, ordering someone to carry the body.

………..

Once Feiden was functional, he went to Gurns to retrieve his Aerial. It had been taken away for the duration of his training. This was the first time in months that he had been able to use it and talk to someone beyond the walls of Stronghold Beta. 

So, within his room, he made his one call. 

There was some silence before the person on the other end picked up. 

“Feiden? Holy shit, man, it’s good to hear from you.”

“Hey, John.”

Feiden couldn’t stifle a wide smile. He had missed the sound of his friend’s voice. 

“How are things over there at Stronghold Charlie?”

“All things considered, I’m doing alright. We might have some strategic complications soon that I’m going to do my best to get through, but otherwise, I’d say my military career is getting off to a relatively good start. What about you man? You’ve been in the dark for a while now.”

“Well, I’ve managed to fulfill my end of our goal. Now I’m just waiting on you guys.”

“Wait, you’re in Spec Ops? Hot damn… How is it?”

“Hell, for now.”

Feiden chuckled to himself. He had never been in so much pain and agony. Every single day was another harrowing battle to fight. There was no reprieve, and the only reason he was getting this call right now was because he had managed to earn some of Gurns’ approval. Months of blood and sweat just for a single talk with his friend.

It was worth it though. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his friends. Talking to John now made him feel rejuvenated, in a way. 

John chuckled from the other end. 

“Heh, I bet. I’m surprised they let you call me. Was it just to say hi?”

“No, actually. I wanted to ask you about some things. Do you have time?”

“Even if I didn’t, I’d sure as shit make some. Go for it, man. What do you want to know?”

Feiden smiled again before his mind started churning. 

“Right now I’m in the process of making my Aura Technique. It’s… complicated to explain, but I’m trying to make myself faster. Not in the normal sense, either. I’ve realized that my body has limits and I want my Aura to allow me to traverse distances in ways that running can’t do. No movement technique has helped, so I’m searching for something else. Something to bridge those gaps.”

“... Spatial folding.”

John blurted out, making Feiden tilt his head. It seemed to be said without much thought, but he knew that the things John said weren’t without purpose. 

“What’s that? Folding space?”

“Well, it’s a theoretical concept. I’ve thought about how teleporters work across the Kingdom amd although I’m no warlock, there are really only two ways that it can shoot someone across such vast distances instantaneously. The first is by folding space, the second is by poking holes in space and making wormholes. Either way, since it’s possible for warlocks to make impossible teleporters and create spatial devices like pocket rings and such, then I see no reason why you couldn’t apply the same concepts to your Aura.”

“I see. Can you explain them?”

“Sure.”

John confirmed before pondering for some seconds in silence. 

“Well, I’ll start with the easiest explanation for wormholes, even though its not really accurate to how they would actually have to work. Imagine a piece of parchment, a flat surface and plane.”

“Alright.”

“Now imagine you push two sides of the parchment together. You get that elevated part that curves.”

“Uh huh.”

“Now imagine a quill in your hand. You could trace that quill across the surface of the parchment, around the curve to the other side of the parchment. You’re traversing all that distance regardless of the curves of the surface.”

“Okay.”

“Now, Wormholes bypass that simply by stabbing through the paper, going from one side to the other without traversing the entire curve. Do you see what I mean?”

“...Interesting.”

Feiden nodded, smiling. 

“Wormholes. Traverse vast distances without traversing them at all. Basically, they punch through space in order to simply arrive at their destination. Of course, the space around us isn’t a flat piece of paper to easily fold and punch through, but three dimensional and awfully resilient. I couldn’t begin to tell you how warlocks do it but that’s how it would work conceptually.”

“... It’s certainly not easy to understand. What about spatial folding?”

“Well, folding space is a simple way of putting something extremely complex. And it’s not so much folding as it is compressing or expanding. Basically, if you contract the space in front of you and expand the space behind you, you’ll create something like a wave that you can ride in a particular direction without even moving. Almost like a wave of water. You’d be riding down the wave but so long as you continue to generate the wave in front and behind you, you’ll keep moving. Of course, this method of travel could be likened to moving the planet instead of yourself in order to cover ground, but with magic, apparently anything is possible. Teleporters sure as hell shouldn’t be possible but hey, fuck science, right?”

“Right…”

Feiden scratched his cheek. John seemed irked, but he wasn’t sure why. 

He was more focused on his words. Contract the space in front and expand the space behind. He could certainly imagine it with the wave analogy. It would create a current of space, and if he could channel it, he could cross distances without even expending energy. 

Well, it probably wouldn’t be that nice, but it would no doubt make him much faster and decrease his energy usage significantly per unit of distance traveled. 

“Are there any other methods of traversing space?”

“Other than those? Not really, at least none that I can think of conceptually.”

“What about in regards to plain movement? Sometimes I have trouble finding grip on a surface, something that if solved, would allow me to stop and go with far greater speeds.”

“You mean traction? Well, unless you can use Aura to magically create more friction between your shoe and the ground, I can’t see you solving that problem. Of course, you could also use Aura to just give you speed or reduce your momentum, but I couldn’t tell you how that would work either.”

“Hm.”

Feiden pondered in thought. It seemed that if he wanted to really wanted to achieve another realm of movement, then he’d have to utilize the same techniques that warlocks used to make their teleporters. 

Shift the world under your feet, contract space to simply shorten the distance, pierce space to simply arrive at your destination. 

Feiden looked around him. Space wasn’t some kind of atmospheric thing like air. It was ever present and was the very fabric that they existed upon. However, it could be bent and manipulated. Warlocks were proof of that, and from John’s words, there were at least theoretical ways of doing so scientifically. 

Question was, how would he bend it? He didn’t know, so he asked. 

“How would one go about manipulating space?”

“Magically? No idea. Scientifically? Space is bent all the time by gravity. Objects with mass, like a sword, a person, or an entire world generate what’s known as a gravity well. Imagine a blanket that’s stretched apart by its four corners and lifted into the air. If you were to drop an apple onto that blanket, it would sink and create a sloped curve downward. That’s what gravity looks like around objects. By that logic, all objects are attracted to each other because of this. If you were to place another apple at the edge of the blanket, it would gradually roll toward the first apple at the bottom of the well. That’s what gravitational attraction looks like, and the heavier the object, the deeper and stronger the gravity well. That’s why the world pulls us down toward it, because it's massive, whereas you won’t feel another person attracting you to them because they have comparatively minuscule mass.”

“I see…”

He didn’t see, not completely at least. He certainly understood the visualization, but that was with a blanket and apple. Like with the wormholes, the difference in dimensions demanded a different way of seeing things that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

However, he knew that gravity could bend space. Space was bent around him. When he thought about the obelisk at the training ground, he understood how it could bend space like a well and pull them harder into the ground. Gravity and space were linked. 

If he went back and thought about the blanket and apple analogy, he figured that in order to expand space, he needed to apply more gravity. Like the apple stretched the blanket, gravity would stretch space. That’s how he would expand space, by stretching it. 

In order to contract it, he’d need to do the opposite. Eliminate gravity, perhaps even reverse it. He imagined an apple that had not just zero gravity, floating on the blanket and keeping it from stretching, but negative gravity, where the blanket would be pulled toward the apple. It would bring the rest of the blanket to it, allowing it to move a greater distance easily. 10 steps in the distance of one. 

He just had to imagine himself as the apple. 

“Hey John, is there such thing as negative gravity?”

“Not really? I think the term you’re looking for is negative mass, or negative energy. I don’t remember specifically but that’s one of the reasons bending space like I’ve mentioned is impossible. If mass generates gravity, negative mass would expel gravity, or create an anti-gravity field. If that were possible then bending space willy nilly would be easy. Of course, who’s to say you couldn’t get magic to do that? Maybe magical energy comes from some sort of exotic matter? Either way, it fucks science, so why do I care?”

“Huh…”

There he went again. Righteous anger toward magic. He must really like science. 

Still, his words all but confirmed Feiden’s theory. 

“Thank you, John. Your advice was very helpful.”

“Well I’m glad. Anything else you want to know?”

“No, I think I’m alright for now.”

“Very well. If you want to know any more, please give me a call. It’s good to hear from you regardless.”

“Mm, you too. I’ll talk to you later, John.”

“Talk to you later.”

Feiden clicked off his Aerial, the room going silent. 

“Apple, apple, apple…”

He muttered, standing from his chair and pacing around the room. He looked around, his Aura reaching out and touching the air. 

An omnipresent fabric called space. He was the apple that could bend it to his will with the tool known as gravity.

It was already bending around him, rooting him to the floor. Now, he needed to use that. Redirect the energy, like redirecting the oncoming strike of another blade, utilizing it for another purpose like a follow up attack. 

And direct it like a current. Generate a wave to carry his body. 

Gravity and antigravity, a pair of opposites, pushing and pulling against each other. 

Feiden found himself outside. There were people around him but he didn’t pay them any mind, not even when they yelled. 

He looked across the base toward the gates, which were swung wide open. He could see off into the distance, a large desert of parched mud and emaciated flora. 

Suddenly, the area around him fluctuated. Like the obelisk, the field within his Aura generated an oppressive gravity. Yet Feiden stood tall, not even his hair affected by it. 

Then, his feet lifted slightly off the floor, unnoticed by all except him. He felt his body turn weightless despite the surrounding gravity multiplying. 

Push and pull…

“Be the apple…”

He muttered, all the people around him hearing his words within their minds, their Auras drawn to his. 

Then, he leaned forward, his body flickering before shooting off into the distance faster than the eye could follow. One moment he was still. The next he was gone. Those previously around him thought he had vanished.

When he stopped moving, his face twisted as his Aura vanished. He fell to the floor, his skin red, his mouth opening wide as he vomited up a stream of bright red blood. 

Trembling all over, every bone screaming as if fractured, and organs feeling less like concrete entities and more a soup, Feiden’s consciousness flickered in and out. 

But he had to make sure of something.

Barely managing to wrench his head around with seized-up muscles, he spotted the base, now just a little blotch in the blurred horizon.

He had covered six miles in but an instant.

The stress it put on his body was unaccounted for, but that was inconsequential compared to what he had just achieved. 

He was the apple… and the apple could bend space to its will. 

With that thought, he slumped against the ground and passed out.