Page 5 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)
I’d been training for Leadership for over a year, an undertaking which would span two decades in total.
However, while being groomed as the next Leader, which was mainly a diplomatic and political career, my former life had been entirely focused on training as an Offensive, which was more of a military-like training, focused on stealth, agility, precision, and adaptability.
They had turned me into an expert in infiltration, evasion, disguise and combat techniques emphasizing speed and efficiency.
I wielded my Skindo—a compact, five-pronged hand weapon, imbued with my own translation—like it was ingrained and I had mastered martial arts disciplines.
Becoming First Offensive, leader of all Offensives, had been the natural progression, though being named First Offensive at only twenty-one years old, was rather exceptional.
And I was very modest about it.
That was what I loved doing and what I was fucking good at, which could not (yet) be said about my political capacities. But I’d had no choice in the matter.
Anyway, as I arrived at my loft on the sixteenth floor of the Winter Palace—one of the four quadrants of the Universitas—I located my Nexus quickly in the kitchen.
However, instead of portaling back to the Cube for another drink, my attention was drawn to the stack of papers on my dining room table. I still had to go through them all before the meeting with Eliot Campbell that same afternoon on the Great Exposure.
Sighing joylessly at the idea of a day full of dull papers and meetings, I made a quick mental calculation and figured forty-five minutes in the training room wouldn’t mess up my schedule.
I craved coffee though, and I craved it right fucking now. Manifesting myself a cup wouldn’t cost me more than a tenth of a second so I shut my eyes and honed in. As always, it felt like second nature, part of the grind.
The anger, always simmering beneath the surface, had become something I now had complete control over; I could feel it coursing through my veins, warming my body, like a shot of whiskey on a cold night.
A wry grin crept onto my face as I looked forward to what was coming.
I let it almost consume me, relishing the surge, and just before I’d let it totally overtake me, I translated it out with all the force I could muster.
In less than 0.1 seconds, there it was: a steaming, dark cup of coffee. No sugar. No milk. No effort.
I made my way up to the training rooms a level higher, when I noticed AJ striding toward me, and glancing at his face, my irritation flared up.
He only approached me whenever his entitled ass wanted something, and when it became clear the world didn’t revolve around him, he’d lash out. Couldn’t fucking wait.
“James, I need a moment,” AJ said, his tone disrespectful.
“I don’t have a moment,” I replied dryly, ignoring him as I passed by him.
He grabbed my arm, forcing me to halt.
“You have exactly one second to take your hands off me, or we’re going to have a much bigger problem,” I said calmly, lowering my voice.
He let go immediately, seemingly aware I would’ve put him on his ass if he hadn’t.
“I need to talk to you about some urgent rescheduling of a few classes of mine,” he began.
Urgent rescheduling? Come on…
I raised an eyebrow, making sure not to let my irritation show.
“Rescheduling classes isn’t my call, AJ. For academic matters, you should see Matthew; you are perfectly aware he’s the top recruiter at the Universitas.”
AJ’s face soured, clearly displeased with my response.
“Come on, James. You’re my superior. We’re both Offensives! Can’t you pull some strings for me? I know he’s your best friend.”
I kept my cool, not letting his attitude get to me.
“AJ, being your superior doesn’t mean I can bend the rules whenever I want. The policies are in place for a reason. Consult with Matthew; he’ll make a fair decision I’m sure.”
Oh, and also, I don’t give a shit.
AJ’s frustration became more apparent, and he started to raise his voice. “Since when do you give a damn about policies? You’re being stubborn for no good reason, James. I’ve got a hectic schedule, and this is important.”
“And you’re being insubordinate. Remember who you’re talking to,” I replied coldly.
“What, to a fucking upstart wannabe who can’t even erase his orphan background despite being on the Council?” He tried to bait me.
I smiled viciously. There was a time a jab like that would’ve sent me over the rails, but that time was long gone. I narrowed my eyes and he backed away a bit, clearly rethinking his move.
“You wanna repeat that?” I asked coolly.
He swallowed, his nerves promptly showing.
“You heard me,” he said, his voice unsteady.
My voice turned glacial. “You’re going to want to recall what I’m capable of.”
He tried not to show it but fear flashed in his eyes.
“You can’t kill me,” he whispered. “They’d take away your Leadership.”
I raised a brow. “You’re willing to bet your life on that?”
He hesitated, before he shook his head in defeat.
“Get the fuck out of my face AJ.”
AJ clenched his fists, visibly frustrated. “Fine, I’ll talk to Matthew. But this won’t be forgotten, James.”
“I’m shaking in my boots, AJ,” I replied dryly, leaving him standing there as I continued striding toward the upper level.
A few minutes later, I found myself in the empty training room, and quickly translated myself some heavy bags and a pair of leather gloves.
The rhythmic drumbeat of my punches on the heavy bag mirrored my solid grit and within seconds, AJ and his comments had faded into nothing more than a distant memory.