Paul Engel is an ordinary, awkward teenager who lives in a world very similar to ours but with one major difference, superhumans called Amuli covertly rule the world. Paul just wants a normal life, but after he receives a strange package in the mail containing a crystal-embedded sword, all hopes of a normal life flicker away as he becomes bonded to the sword and given incredible powers. With no understanding of how these new powers work, he is recruited into the shadowy organization A.R.C. In order to keep himself and his family safe, Paul is forced to undergo intense combat training and become a living weapon to fight against the even shadier Amuli organization known as A.I.M. for secret control of the worldâs governments and major corporations.
Every task is more dangerous than the last in the life of an A.R.C. agent, and it will push young Paul to his every limit just for a chance at survival. Buy this book and be a part of this epic journey for Paulâs very soul!
Paul Engel is an ordinary, awkward teenager who lives in a world very similar to ours but with one major difference, superhumans called Amuli covertly rule the world. Paul just wants a normal life, but after he receives a strange package in the mail containing a crystal-embedded sword, all hopes of a normal life flicker away as he becomes bonded to the sword and given incredible powers. With no understanding of how these new powers work, he is recruited into the shadowy organization A.R.C. In order to keep himself and his family safe, Paul is forced to undergo intense combat training and become a living weapon to fight against the even shadier Amuli organization known as A.I.M. for secret control of the worldâs governments and major corporations.
Every task is more dangerous than the last in the life of an A.R.C. agent, and it will push young Paul to his every limit just for a chance at survival. Buy this book and be a part of this epic journey for Paulâs very soul!
November 1
Paul felt as if his head was being crushed by something pushing against his face. Strange splotches of yellow, white, and light brown chased the blackness to the corners of his vision. He could feel his nose pushed to the side.
Where am I again? he thought groggily. He pulled up his head as he peeled off whatever it was that was stuck to his face. It was a book.
A cold stab of worry hit him in the stomach. Oh right, the presentation.
He wiped foul-smelling salvia of the book, âGo Rin No Sho, The Book of Five Rings,â written by the legendary seventeenth-century samurai Miyamoto Musashi. This study of swordsmanship and philosophy was one of Paulâs favorites. That was why he had chosen to do an oral report on the great samurai. Unfortunately for Paul, his admiration for samurai was outweighed by his anxiety for his upcoming history presentation, which had led to many sleepless hours the night before.
Reluctantly, he checked his appearance on his cell phone screen. He grimaced as he saw his haggard face and sleepy brown eyes. One of his stubborn cowlicks of medium brown hair was sticking upwards, so he tried smoothing it with his hand. It was no use, however. He even tried straightening his school blazer, which was now slouching down over his bony shoulders.
Suddenly, he felt the world tip sideways. He fell out of his chair, landing on his back.
âYou deserved that, man!â
Paul looked up to see another student with greasy brown hair and, since no teachers were around, holding a soda bottle filled with chunky gobs of tobacco juice the same color as the boyâs hair.
What was his name? thought Paul. John or maybe Jack? Heâs on the football team. Or is it the baseball team? Maybe itâs both?
âIâve been trying to get your attention all week,â John or Jack continued. âDidnât you notice me throwing pencils at you in English on Tuesday? Youâve always got your head down, ignoring everyone. Then, I catch you in study hall, and youâre passed out. Tell me, what kind of straight-A student sleeps through school?â
So, thatâs why I was getting hit by pencils. I thought it was best just to run away.
Jack/John spat more brown sludge into his bottle through his yellow-tinted teeth.
âIs sleeping through school really worse than chewing tobacco in school?â Paul regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
He normally would not have said something so confrontational. It was not like him to instigate someone whose arms looked to be as thick as his own legs. However, this situation just seemed too perfect to let pass.
Instantly, Paul was grabbed by the collar of his navy-blue school blazer. He glanced around the library in search of any teachers. He saw only a half dozen wide-eyed students who were avoiding his hopeful glances. Paul closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. This moment seemed so surreal. Never in my sheltered life did I ever imagine being beaten up in a library Itâs my favorite room in the school. That has to be more than a little ironic.
âI know your type,â said the boy. Paul could smell his every word. âYouâre the kind of guy who thinks heâs better than everyone else âcuz youâre smart. Thatâs why youâre quiet and rude.â
Paul shook his head, his eyes still closed. âNo⌠no, youâve got it all wrong,â any air of smugness was now gone. âI just⌠justâŚâ
âYou âjustâ what?â
âHold up a minute, Jack!â The voice didnât sound like it came from a teacher. âIâm ready to tap-in for him.â
Paul finally opened his eyes when he felt an exaggerated high-five on his dangling hand. Standing there was another student who only came up to Jackâs shoulder. Robby Swanson looked more like a middle school student than a high school student.
Jack let go of Paul and looked down in the newcomerâs direction. âWhat are you even doing, Swanson? You little freak.â
âOh, come on, you will need better insults than that if youâre ever going to get into the WWE.â
Jack now looked more confused than angry. âWho the hell said anything about fake wrestling?â
âWell, did you honestly expect me to think you guys were doing real wrestling? Whereâs the mat? Or maybe you guys were doing UFC stuff? Anyway, I was about ready to give you the chair.â Robby lifted a wooden chair and swung it around playfully.
Just as Robby finished his rambling, Mr. Eaves finally entered the room.
Jack turned his back to Paul and Robby as he made his way back to his table. âYouâre a nutcase, Swanson. Youâre just not worth it.â
Robby turned to Paul. âStalling. It always works.â
âYeah, except when it doesnât.â
âCâmon, believe me. Iâve ticked off a lot more people than you have over the years.â
Mr. Eaves cast a slightly amused gaze in the boysâ direction.
âMr. Swanson,â he called from behind his twitching, gray mustache. âI donât recall you being in this study hall.â
âNo,â Robby quickly agreed. âMrs. Rockway wanted me to make some copies on the library copier while I was in detention.â
âDetention isnât until after school, Mr. Swanson,â reminded Mr. Eaves. âI also donât see any papers in your hands.â
âOh, you know what?â Robby exclaimed. âI completely forgot them.â
âAnd detention?â wondered Mr. Eaves with a twitching eyebrow.
âWell,â Robby answered, âwhat I did was so bad that they gave me detention during school hours. I think I⌠uh⌠crashed the school server by downloading a game.â
âThat would be an in-school suspension which I know, for a fact, was not in the morning teachersâ memo,â Mr. Eaves sighed. âJust leave and stop roaming the hallways. Thereâs nothing exciting going on in them, anyway. Better yet, go use those computer skills for something constructive. The lab is open.â
âRight away!â
It should scare me how fast he can make up lies. No, wait, it shouldnât. Heâs an awful liar.
Delete Created with Sketch.
âAnd so, Musashi arrived at his duel with Sasaki Kojiro late and with his appearance being a mess,â Paul thrust his thumbs into his pockets, running them along the velvet inner pockets of his blazer. He had been speaking for five minutes already. His mouth was now running without his brainâs instruction. He hated doing presentations like this one. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, judging every stutter and mistake.
âMusashi utilized strategy rather than the aesthetics of swordsmanship in the duel. One could say that his strategy only used cheap tricks. However, he believed in the practicality of fighting and swordsmanship, not the aesthetics of it.â
Paul glanced around the room as his mouth continued to move. Robby was sitting backward at his desk, talking to some girl. She was now scribbling something on his hand. For a moment, she stopped writing and peered up at Paul. He dropped his eyes to the floor. Words poured out of his mouth even faster now. He clicked the button of the computer mouse. Then his shaking finger hit the button again. An uncomfortably warm redness spread along his face as he apologized before returning to the correct slide.
âAnd⌠um⌠itissaid⌠I mean⌠um it is said that Musashi waited for the sun to shine directly into the place of the duel in order to inhibit Sasaki Kojiro.â
Paul looked sideways at the teacher who was flashing him a sign with a number âfiveâ on it. Five minutes. God! Iâm not going to have time for everything!
Paul sighed and continued. âIn the duel, Musashi used a bokken or wooden swordâŚâ
Four minutes later, Paul finished. He took a deep breath and staggered to the teacherâs desk. Mrs. Jones handed him a slip of paper. It read, â47/50.â
The teacher leaned over and whispered, âGreat content as always, Paul. Itâs a good thing that was mostly what I was grading on. Your speaking skills could use some work. Try not to be so nervous next time. You always do so well that Iâm never sure why you worry so much.â
Paul nodded and went back to his desk. Asking me not to be nervous is like asking not to breathe. I just do it. I probably shouldnât have even gotten an A. Mrs. Jones probably just feels bad for me. I canât speak two words without stuttering.
âMr. Swanson,â Mrs. Jones called out. âYouâre up next.â
Robby reluctantly ended his conversation with the girl sitting in front of him and strolled to the front of the room. He pulled out a mess of notecards out of his pocket before beginning his presentation in the booming voice of a used car salesman.
âBefore I show my slides,â he began, âIâll start by saying that my presentation contains a lot of exciting news. As some of you guys might have heard, there was a discovery last week off the coast of Spain in the Atlantic Ocean. At the bottom of the ocean, they discovered an entire underwater island. I think we all know what that means. Atlantis has been found!â
Paul pressed his forehead into his desk. I knew that helping him with this project was a terrible idea. The project called for a presentation of the historical roots of a legend or legendary figure. It wasnât supposed to be about conspiracy theories.
Seven minutes of conjecture later, Robby returned to his seat with a grin that showed that he was quite proud of himself.
âWhat grade did you get?â he asked as he peered over Paulâs shoulder as he studied the rubric that Mrs. Jones had given him for the tenth time. âAn A? Dang. I got a C. Youâre a genius, kid. I keep telling you.â
âYeah, yeah.â
Robby slid down the sleeve of his blazer, exposing ink-smeared digits on his wrist and hand. He grinned proudly. âAllie Boucherâs number.â
Paul studied his friendâs hand for a moment. âI hate to tell you this, but youâre missing a few digits.â
The sound of the bell covered up Robbyâs cursing.
âHey, maybe you can sit by her at the assembly and get the rest of the number,â suggested Paul sarcastically.
Robby kept his head pointed to the ground in disappointment as the two made their way to the auditorium. The room was large but filled with a musky smell that came from old velvet seat cushions. For a moment, Paul had to force down the rusted hinge on his seat before he could squeeze into it.
Arenât private schools supposed to be rich enough to afford minor things like seats that were made before nineteen fifty? Paul thought wryly.
A few rows away, Paul could hear a couple of boys from his last class talking about their grades on their presentations.
âDid ya hear what she gave that one kid?â one asked before answering his own questions. âForty-seven out of fifty when he could barely talk up there. Whatâs his name again?â
âI think itâs Pete,â the other answered.
âYeah, P-P-Pete,â the first one exclaimed in a mix of fake stammer and unmuffled laughter.
âI know, right? Heâs like all s-s-samurai and mushi-mushi-ishi. Itâs more like n-nerdy A-A-Asian fetish, I swear.â
Do they seriously not know Iâm right here? At least make fun of me when Iâm out of earshot. What are their names again? Paul pondered. Austin and Dallas? No, wait⌠thereâs no way thatâs right. Why am I so bad with names?
Paulâs right hand started shaking as he sat down. He closed his eyes. I should just go hide in the bathroom until with is over.
Memories he had long tried burying tore their way back to the surface of his mind like a drowning man reaching for the surface. He could see his Aunt Morgan with her eyes rimmed with red struggling to complete the sentence, âPaulâŚyour dadâŚheâŚpassed away whenâŚâ
âWhatâs this assembly for again?â asked Robby who had gained back some of his composure after his recent rejection.
His words were enough to draw Paul back from the confines of his mind.
âItâs the Amulus presentation. The same as every year,â explained Paul, trying to sound casual. âSomeone from A.R.C. or A.I.M. will talk about Amulus, and theyâll see if we react to any crystals.â
âI know everyone thinks these things are boring now, but Iâve always wanted to be an Amulus,â Robby said with enthusiasm. âI mean, who doesnât want superpowers?â
âIâm sure your family and their company would love that,â retorted Paul with mock sharpness. âIâve read in the news that they have been trying really hard to shut down A.R.C. and A.I.M.â
Robby shrugged. âThey donât really like superhumans policing themselves. I think my dad called it âletting the inmates run the asylum. Me on the other hand, Iâve read enough comic books to like superheroes. I donât really care what my family thinks as long as I get superpowers. I mean⌠like, donât you want superpowers?â
âI guess,â answered Paul, âbut it doesnât seem very⌠enjoyable this way. The way things stand, Amulus are either taken and held by A.R.C. or tested for medical research by A.I.M. Either way, you canât really live a normal life. Think about it this way, the law basically protects people from Amuli. Thatâs because people are afraid of them. On the other hand, the Amuli get stripped of their rights for life. Plus, there is always the chance you couldâŚâ Paul took a pause and mumbled. âYou know, whatever.â
âOr,â started Robby raising a fist into the air, âyou can become a superhero and fight against âevilâ organizations like A.R.C. and A.I.M.â
Paul smiled. It felt as if Robby had been cheering him up all his life. They had known each other since they were six, after all.
âIf it comes to that, Iâll be your sidekick.â
The arrival of a group of people on the stage of the auditorium interrupted their conversation. The school principal, Mr. Lance, eagerly strode across the stage, leading a group of five men and five women dressed in black suits with blank expressions. Mr. Lanceâs maroon jacket made him look like a cardinal amid crows. The suits carried large black cases to a table where they carefully laid out several metal objects. The more eager of the students craned their necks to get a glimpse of the strange items.
Displayed on the cloth-covered table was a variety of weapons and jewelry. None of the weapons displayed were modern but instead came from a variety of time periods. On the left side of the table was a collection of swords including several medieval, arming swords from Europe, Renaissance-era rapiers and longswords, and even a late Roman spatha. Also on the table was a collection of bows, including two English longbows. The last category of weapons consisted of guns, including a blunderbuss and a Revolutionary War-era rifle. Embedded in the handles and hilts of each weapon were crystals that were mostly clear except for faint hints of color. The jewelry comprised of bracelets, necklaces, and rings, each containing the same type of crystal as the ones found in the antique weapons. The old lights of the auditorium reflected onto the metal and wood of the items, giving them a yellowish hue.
âIâm thinking the musket,â whispered Robby as he attempted to peer over the basketball player sitting in front of him. âMy grandpa used to tell me my great-great-great- whatever fought in the Civil War.â
âThatâs actually a Kentucky long rifle,â corrected Paul softly. âIt was actually much more accurate than a musket, and itâs probably from the American Revolution or War of eighteen twelve. Theyâre called âKentuckyâ long rifles, but they were actually first made in Pennsylvania. Back then-â
âHey,â interrupted Robby, âhistory class ended already, and now, the worldâs greatest showman is about to take the stage.â
âSettle down, everyone,â began Mr. Lance in a vain attempt to quiet the drone of conversation in the room. âI know everyone is excited for this yearâs presentation from Amulus Regional Containment. I know that I sure am! Iâm sure each of you is familiar with the valuable, valuable work they do in the world. Nevertheless, Mr. Luper will explain the work he does to help keep to the world safe for all of us. Now I give you, Mr. Gregory Luper!â
One of the men who had been carrying the cases took the principalâs place at the podium. He had a short, dark beard that could have used a trimming and hair that much needed combing, both were flecked grey. Despite his unkempt appearance, he had a powerful presence in the room. As he moved to the podium, the steady curves of well-built muscles could be seen under the covering of his sleeves and pant legs. His expression was that of boredom and his eyes were like two hazel, black, and white marbles.
âRight then,â he said after clearing his throat. âIâm sure everyone here is used to this system by now. If we have any volunteers, please come to the stage and walk by these items. If any crystals start to glow, then please speak up. Remember, government law states that it is your right to choose whether to take part in this process.â
Mr. Lance came speed-walking back to the podium after the agent vacated it.
âWhile each of you decides on whether or not to come up to the stage since,â interrupted the principal in an attempt to save the formalness of the presentation, âI will recount the history of the Amulus and also that of A.R.C. and A.I.M.â
âHere we go,â whispered Robby to Paul. âI saw his file when I was doing filing in detention one time. He got his masterâs in theater before going back to school for teaching. It explains so much. Like Arthur Miller said, âAll the worldâs a stage.ââ
âThat was Shakespeare,â corrected Paul. âCome on, thatâs an easy one. Everyone knows that.â
Robby shook his head. âThat was the first play-writing-guy on my mind. I fell asleep when we read Death of a Salesman in English yesterday. When I woke up, the salesman was dead, so I figured that I didnât miss anything.â
Paul chuckled as Mr. Lance began his speech to a chorus of groans.
âIt was only a few decades ago that the idea of superhumans was only seen as material for movies and comic books,â the principal began in a voice resembling that of a movie trailer narrator. âHowever, in the nineteen-eighties, it was discovered that supermen really could exist.â
A voice in the crowd briefly interrupted Mr. Lance, shouting, âOh God, this again?â This was accompanied by ensuing bouts of laughter.
Mr. Lance cleared his throat and continued undeterred by the now-muffled laughter. âLogic-defying treasures were found after being hidden deep underground in regions around the world. These treasure troves were made up of antique weapons and jewelry dating from ancient times all the way to the late eighteen hundreds. Set into each of the items were curious crystals, resembling gemstones. When one particular researcher touched a crystal, something truly astounding happened.â
The principal paused and held up an array of wiggling fingers as if he were trying to hold the attention of a group of small children. A flurry of teenagers rolling their eyes greeted him.
âThe crystal glowed and, upon further inspection, the scholar realized he had been gifted with enhanced strength. Not only that, but he had a shining aura that he could cast around him in bursts. It was discovered that the constant aura could disintegrate high-speed projectiles, making the holder of the crystal effectively bullet-proof. Naturally, militaries around the world raced to get their hands on these crystals and people who could use them. Further research showed that every crystal had only one user who became known as Amuli. A crystal is bonded to an Amulus for life, they are inseparable. Equally inseparable are the crystals from the weapons or jewelry to which they are fused. Inseparable and unbreakable.â
There were more groans from the crowd as Mr. Lance reached the crescendo of his performance.
âThe time of these discoveries occurred at the tail end of the Cold War. Both the United States and the Soviet Union saw Amuli soldiers as an outlet to their hostilities that was not as drastic as the mutually assured destruction of a nuclear war. However, they were wrong. When the two forces met in western Alaska, the world saw annihilation not seen since Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Within hours of the commencement of the battle, huge swaths of land were wiped off the planet, including most of Alaskaâs western islands.
âThe worldwide community was outraged and horrified by the actions of the two world superpowers. Desperate, the United Nations took steps to put the power of anima out of the hands of nations for fear that worse conflicts would follow. The organization created two companies in order to police and contain Amuli around the world. They were created by Amuli for Amuli. Amulus Regional Containment was made to house Amuli as well as to protect Amuli around the globe from the world and from themselves. A.R.C. ushered in a new era of cooperation between the nations of the world. Even developing counties with less than effective governments and totalitarian states became subject to A.R.C.âs guidance. Its sister company, Amulus International Medicine, specializes in studying the amazing healing properties exhibited by Amuli and applying them for scientific and medicinal purposes.
âHere today, each of you will have the opportunity to walk past these anima items and to see if you may become an Amulus. As always, this is completely voluntary, and if you volunteer and do not emerge as an Amulus, do not be heartbroken. Amuli only make up only a small fraction of the worldâs population, numbering less than a hundred thousand people total. Above all else, this experience is simply a way to involve you young people with this important process, while, possibly, making your dreams come true. Without further ado, volunteers may now proceed forward and pass by the anima items. Come on now donât be shy.â
The A.R.C. representative rocked back on his heels and blinked his eyes as if he were waking up from a nap on his feet. âRight. The volunteers can come forward now.â
In the front row, a few giggling girls formed an impromptu conga line as they paraded to the stage. Two rows in front of Paul, a group of boys joking around shoved their friend out into the aisle. Red-faced and laughing, he scrambled back to his seat.
Itâs a joke to them, Paul observed. A generation ago, things like Amuli were new and frightening. Now, everyone is desensitized to something as crazy as this. There hasnât been a major incident involving a rogue Amulus in years⌠in the United States at least. Itâs all become so normal.
âLetâs go, sidekick,â Robby muttered as he slid out of his seat.
Paul begrudgingly stood up and carefully shuffled past a student who fallen asleep leaning forward into the seat in front of him. Paul could not see the studentâs face but the stench mixture of weed, alcohol, and sweat singed the hair inside his nostrils.
âSeems like Daneâs been pre-gaming before school again,â whispered Robby.
Paul shook his head. âI donât understand whyâŚâ
âNowâs my turn to teach you something. Pre-gaming isâŚâ
âI know what âpre-gamingâ is, Robby.â
Robby shrugged and left it at that.
No matter how much his legs protested, Paul couldnât let Robby see how much he didnât want to participate. He just wanted to fit in and treat this event as a joke like everyone else.
Paulâs heart pounded as he joined a short line of students at the side stairs of the stage. He was sure some blood vessel in his neck would burst as he could feel it beating in time with his heart.
As he passed one row, Paul heard a chorus of spitting as Jack and his friends sent brown goo into empty water and Gatorade bottles.
âYa, know,â muttered Jack as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, âI can see where some of the Hunters are coming from. Not like killinâ all the Amuli, but that theyâre not natural. I mean, why do they get to be more powerful than everyone else? Theyâre so strong that they could take over the government if they havenât already. And, all this parading their guys around schools to make more of âem? Itâs weird, man. Only the Hunters are just sayinâ what everyone else is thinkinâ.â
The other boys in the row nodded and grunted in approval.
This was the last speech Paul wanted to hear. I wonder what he would do to me if he ever found out that my dad was an Amulus. Not that Iâve ever told anyone.
When the procession reached the anima items, he shivered. Suddenly, he was five years old again.
~ ~ ~
Aunt Morgan held up a shimmering gold chain. âThis was your dadâs.â
Paul reached out a hand, feeling the bumps of cool metal.
âIt used to be a necklace. There was a blue crystal that went in the center, but itâs gone now.â
She took a deep breath and a thick film of tears swelled in her eyes. Paul stared deeply into the blue eyes. He had never seen her cry before. Heâd seen her laugh a thousand times before that. She was always happy and strong. The only mother he had ever known.
âThe people you see on the news⌠and the ones you learn about in school⌠the ones with those powers. You see, your dad was one of them, an Amulus. He found this necklace when I was young, about ten.â Her voice wavered again. âOh, Paul, I wasnât sure when I was supposed to tell you all this. I was going to wait until you were older, but youâre so smart for your age. Youâre so smart, and you deserve to know. You have to keep this a secret though. Your dad wanted this all to be a secret.â
~ ~ ~
Every one of Paulâs steps on the stage made him feel like he had lead weights in his shoes. He was sure that he was about to fall through the floor. It occurred to him that this entire event was ridiculous.
In what world are high school students offered weapons and superpowers? On the other hand, being an Amulus is so rare that one is seldom found in one of these events. This is all a formality. A way to make ordinary people think that they in control. In reality, they are the ones controlling us. This is all in their best interest since it increases their numbers.
Paul stared down at the gleaming blades. They were as haunting as if they would have been stained with blood. According to A.I.M.âs reports, anima items never showed tarnish or damage no matter how long ago they had been created. The exact reason for this was still not known to the public. That was another reason for Paul to dread the low possibility of becoming an Amulus. Both A.R.C. and A.I.M. were very restrictive about the information they released. All the public had been told about the two groups were their chief purposes as Mr. Lance had described. There was only an occasional press release about A.I.M.âs research and A.R.C.âs missions in securing for rogue Amuli. The inner workings of the organizations remained complete mysteries. Conspiracy theories ranging from alien invasions to human sacrifices were abundant on the internet. Massive multinational organizations like A.R.C. and A.I.M. naturally attracted bizarre theories about possible clandestine activities. It had become something of a hobby for Paul to research these theories, partly for curiosityâs sake and partly for a good laugh.
Paul took in a deep breath as he reached the end of the weapons section of the table.
Maybe it was a mistake to be so worried about this. Paul thought to himself, allowing a slight ripple of relief to wash over him.
His eyes caught a soft blue glinting in the corner of his vision. He felt as if something was squeezing his stomach and pushing its contents up to his throat. He turned to see the last item on the table, a golden necklace with an iridescent blue crystal. The color of the chain was different, but the crystal was just as he imagined it, slim and as bright as a sapphire in the sun.
The memories of his childhood came rushing back again.
~ ~ ~
âIt was hard for him at first,â Aunt Morgan continued with her eyes gazing past the present and back to old memories. âHe was always being pursued by Hunters, the evil guys who want to kill all the Amuli. Our parents, your grandparents didnât know what to do. A.R.C. and A.I.M. had just been created and had only taken in a few Amuli at that point. We moved around a lot back then, but it didnât help in the end. The Hunters caught him when he was walking home from school. We were so scared. I was young that I didnât understand everything, but I knew that I missed my brother. Weeks went by before we heard that A.R.C. had rescued him. After that, he went to work for them, and I could only see him once every few months.
âHe met your mother there. She was a researcher for A.R.C. Itâs not fair that you canât see how much you are like her. She was the smartest person Iâve ever met and extremely kind too. She was the sister I always wanted. Then it all went wrong. You were only a few months old when more and more Hunter groups started to form. Paul⌠your dad⌠he⌠died when⌠the Hunters got to him. They tracked your mother down tooâŚâ
~ ~ ~
âWhatâs up?â asked Robby curiously from behind Paul.
Paul shook his head, trying to shake the spider-web of memories from his head. âI⌠uhâŚâ
He followed a ray that extended from the auditorium lights onto the crystal.
So thatâs what was causing it to glow. Paul realized as he felt a weight being lifted from his body.
One of the representatives who were surrounding the table gave Paul a stern look that meant it was time to get moving. Paulâs face reddened when he noticed that all the suits and most of the students were staring at him for holding up the line. Now, he really did wish that stage floor would swallow him whole.
Paul slumped back into his seat and leaned into the collar of his blazer in an attempt to conceal his reddened face. He felt a slight tap on his shoulder, which was followed by a heavy-handed thump. Peering over the fabric of the blazer, he saw a pair of broad shoulders.
âHey, Iâm⌠uh⌠sorry about earlier,â Jack mumbled his apology.
Paul gave a surprised, slow nod.
âI was ticked off âcuz I got a poor grade on a test in my computer science class,â Jack murmured while rubbing his index finger under his nose. âIt just sucks, ya know? My dad wants me to major in computer science in college, so Iâve gotta figure this stuff out.â
Paul continued to nod. He was still half-expecting Jackâs mood to snap from apologetic to accusatory. It wasnât like Jack to claim to be completely at fault about anything.
âThen, I saw you sleeping in the library,â Jack continued, âand I was like, âwhoâs this guy who always gets Aâs but never seems to work hard at all.â No offense, but you always seem bored as hell and never want to do anything with anyone.â
Paul winced. As with most sentences that he had heard begin with âno offense,â there was some offense given.
âAnyway, I was pissed because my dad always tells me Iâm going to major in computer science in college because itâs the future or whatever. I was wondering if you could look over some of my homework to see if Iâm on the right track. I canât keep C and C# or C-flat or whatever straight. They all just seem like random numbers and letters.â
âSure,â Paul answered shakily.
He was completely thrown off by this display of regret by Jack. He still expecting another backhanded comment, or worse, an actual backhand. Either he had turned over a new leaf or had really done poorly on that STEM test.
âActually, Robby is even better at coding than I am. You might want to ask him.â
Jack shook his head. âNah. Swanson would probably play some kinda prank on me and give me the wrong answers.â
Jackâs stony face made Paul unsure if he was joking. Paul gave an uneasy smile, just in case.
âSo,â Jack closed his eyes as if he were about to do something painful. His speech became unsure and awkward, which was a far cry from his usual smugness. âI was wondering if you wanted to stop by my familyâs cottage on the river this weekend and help me. Afterward, some of the guys and I are having a party, and my parents donât care what we do. Theyâre chill like that. If you helped me⌠then you would like⌠be able to come.â
The color drained from Paulâs face. Oh, great. The last place I want to be is in a small cabin filled with giant, drunk teenagers. But if I say no, Jack is going to freak out on me again and may never forgive me for it.
âWell, IâŚâ Paul began speaking as his brain thought up a solution. âIâm actually going to be busy this weekend⌠but⌠email me a copy of your homework, and Iâll look it over.â
Jack was clearly holding back a smile of relief. âOh, okay. That works for me.â
âMy email is just my name with the school email address at the end.â
âAlright, thanks. So, weâre cool now, right?â Jack punched Paul in the shoulder that was meant to be playful but instead spread a painful, icy numbness down the scrawny boyâs arm.
âYeah,â Paul agreed before waiting for Jack to walk away so he could massage his arm without embarrassment.
If you are like me and love anything X-Men, then this is the book for you. Matter of fact, there are many references to other superhero comics throughout the story. This book can also be compared to Divergent and Darkest Minds. If you like these books, then youâll like this one. Latrobe Bernitz takes well-known tropes such as how society would treat superhumans if they existed and creates something new. The characters are relatable and fleshed out very well. The story has a good flow and I enjoyed every moment of reading it.
I liked the fact that there is no clear good side or bad side. A.R.C. and A.I.M. both seem to have hidden agendas behind housing and employing Amuli. People seem to choose which one is the lesser of two evils. You feel for the people â many of them are young adults and even children- who must choose which organization they can morally align themselves with. You can feel the anxiety and unease as Paul goes through his training and missions with A.R.C. and realizes why many Amuli chose to go rogue.
My favorite character in this book was Alice. She is a powerful psychic Amulus with a robotic personality. She only knows to do as she's told and most references to well-known books, music, and shows go right over her head. As the story progresses, we find out more about why she is the way she is and we also see her break out of her shell. Although she is very robotic in her nature, her relationship with Paul is very unique. It seems like the more they spend time together, the more they break each other out of their shells. Her character progression is well done, and one of my favorites in this book. I was rooting for her and Paul throughout my time reading this book. Latrobe Barnitz clearly has a knack for character development.
Latrobe Barnitz is an excellent storyteller, and he has done an amazing job writing this book. I highly recommend this book to young adults and adults alike.