"Alright, listen up!" Arbil's voice rang through the cabin like a command. "It's a long flight. Sleep if you can. If not, start talking. Get to know each other. These people might save your life someday."
He held up a stack of vividly colored booklets. "Also, the Academy made these. Career guides. They explain every job path, what they entail, and how to evaluate them. Each job includes four rankings: stars for prestige, cushions for comfort, skulls for danger, and coins for pay. Read up."
Nemo accepted one of the booklets. The cover showed a smiling man in overalls holding an enormous orange in front of a colossal tree. Across the top: Career Paths of the Academy.
Curious, he flipped to page three.
Farmer
Farmers feed Atlantis. With limited floating soil, their role is critical. Applicants require aspects tied to life, plants, water, or earth and must complete three botany courses per year. The world changes—farmers adapt.
Star rating: 4 out of 5
Cushion rating: 5 out of 5
Skull rating: 1 out of 5
Coin rating: 4 out of 5
Nemo let out a soft snort. It looked too good to be true—high pay, high comfort, minimal risk. After everything he'd heard about the dangers of being Awakened, this didn't match the stories.
A man across the aisle saw Nemo's face and chuckled. "That was exactly my reaction the first time I read it."
Others started peeking into their own booklets. "Page three," Nemo said, lifting his copy. "Farmer."
A soft rustle of pages followed.
"Why does it even have a skull rating?" asked a younger girl.
The man who'd first spoken shrugged. "Sometimes the crops awaken. If a plant mutates enough to gain movement... it can get ugly."
The room shifted subtly. People regarded the farmer role with a new kind of respect.
"I'd still rather wrangle vines than face the deep sea," said a broad-shouldered man.
Arbil gave him a nod. "Fair point."
"Page fifteen," said the first man. "That's my job."
Nemo turned the pages again.
City Liaison
City Liaisons escort civilians to and from Atlantis. They must be adaptable, discreet, and protectively inclined. Suggested aspects: shielding, movement, stealth, or recovery.
Star rating: 3 out of 5
Cushion rating: 3.5 out of 5
Skull rating: 2.5 out of 5
Coin rating: 2 out of 5
"Looks like a solid job," someone murmured. "Balanced. Not flashy, but livable."
Pedro—the muscular man who'd just spoken—smiled. "Comfortable jobs don't come up often. Our squad's been full for years."
He looked at Nemo. "What's your aspect?"
Nemo hesitated. Arbil gave a small nod of encouragement.
"You don't need to share your legacy," Arbil added. "Just your type."
Nemo gave a small wave. "Metal root. Name's Nemo."
The introductions began rolling in.
Calisto, thirty, aspect in reconnaissance. Former city office worker.
Pedro went next: "City Liaison for five years. Twin roots—movement and recon."
A nervous girl stood up. "Metal and poison. I'm Mena. Thirteen."
She shrank as everyone turned to look at her, but the tone was warm. No one mocked her.
Giada, seated beside her, spoke next. "Twenty-two. Cloud and coldness. I was studying for research before my Awakening."
Then came a smirking youth who couldn't help himself. "Holt. Eighteen. Dual aspects—storytelling and heat. Worked the ports. Looks like I've found my rival," he said to Giada with a grin.
People laughed, the tension easing.
More names followed. Nemo paid close attention. These were the people he'd be trained with—maybe fight alongside.
Then came Darryl. Sharp gaze. Older. Steady posture.
"Former special police. Stealth and reconnaissance. I'm aiming for Special Operations. I've worked with them before. I know their standards."
Everyone flipped toward the back of the guidebook.
Special Operation Asset
Handles high-risk covert missions. Tasks include infiltration, neutralization, and external or internal threats—from monsters to hostile tribes. Operates in the shadows of the city.
Star rating: 3 out of 5
Cushion rating: 2.5 out of 5
Skull rating: 3 out of 5
Coin rating: 3.5 out of 5
Arbil said nothing, but there was a flicker of wariness in his eyes.
The others asked Darryl questions. Most of his answers were short and vague - classified. It only added to the mystique.
As the group settled, Nemo continued browsing. He turned to page thirty-four.
Deep Sea Explorer
Star rating: 1 out of 5
Cushion rating: 1 out of 5
Skull rating: 5 out of 5
Coin rating: 2.5 out of 5
It looked like a death sentence, and yet the job was listed—without context.
Nemo looked at Arbil. "These are all beginner roles, right? But what about captains, leaders...?"
Arbil smiled slowly. His voice dropped just enough to carry. Heads turned.
"You're thinking about hunter teams. You start as a regular hunter. After a number of missions, you qualify for a captain's exam. Pass that, and you lead your own crew. Same idea with city liaisons—once you've done enough, you can apply to become a chief escort."
Giada raised her hand. "Are there jobs where promotion is based purely on merit?"
Lars, the man leading the escort squad, answered. "Special Operations, mostly. But even then, leadership roles require exams—strategy, general knowledge, combat skills, aspect mastery, and intelligence gathering. Some parts might be bundled, but you'll have to study."
Giada nodded thoughtfully.
Not wanting to be left out, Holt jumped in. "What's the strongest job? Like the elite of the elite?"
Opal, a pale-haired woman with serious eyes, said coldly, "Only beginners ask that. There are powerhouses in every role. The strongest choose their assignments. Many pick safe jobs with high comfort. Strength doesn't mean you're on the front lines."
Holt deflated. Then Sullivan, one of the escorts, laughed.
"She's right, but also—check page twenty-one."
Everyone flipped to it. Nemo was already there.
Then the plane shook. Lights turned red. The noise stopped. Motion ceased. Escorts moved quietly, placing firm hands on anyone who shifted.
Six of them entered the cockpit. Arbil stayed behind, calm but alert.
The cabin remained still, lit in a soft crimson. After minutes of quiet turbulence, Nemo looked back down.
Edgerunners
Atlantis faces threats that defy understanding—monsters, humans, and more. Some threats could annihilate the city. Edgerunners confront them. They go where no one else will. Living on the edge of life and death.
Star rating: 5 out of 5
Cushion rating: 1 out of 5
Skull rating: 5 out of 5
Coin rating: 4 out of 5
Nemo's chest tightened. It sounded like propaganda—but it also rang true. He felt awed when reading the passage
He turned the page again.
Pathfinder
As the world shifts, Atlantis must chart new routes. Pathfinders explore unknown zones, often alone. They clear threats or report them for backup. The job demands courage, independence, and awareness.
Star rating: 4 out of 5
Cushion rating: 0 out of 5
Skull rating: 6 out of 5
Coin rating: 4 out of 5
More dangerous than Edgerunner. Less fame. No backup. And yet, something about it appealed to him.
He looked up at Arbil and pointed to the Edgerunner entry. Arbil gave a solemn nod. For cushion, he grimaced. For skulls, he nodded. For coins, he spread his fingers—uncertain, variable.
Encouraged, Nemo pointed to Pathfinder.
Arbil gave a bitter smile. After a pause, he gestured toward the cockpit. Others might know more.
Suddenly the plane jolted again. The red lights flickered, shifted green, then white. The cockpit door opened. The six escorts returned—soaked and dirty. Rain, one of the younger ones, was smeared in foul-smelling red fluid.
She changed clothes without a word and returned to her seat, dry and composed, as if nothing had happened.
No one asked what it was. The danger had passed. But something about the silence lingered.
People slowly returned to reading. Others stared out into the blurred storm through the windows.
An hour passed like that. Then the lights dimmed to total darkness.
There were a few surprised gasps, quickly hushed.
Lars's voice broke the silence. "No lights means sleep. We've got nine hours left. If you're awake the whole flight, you'll be useless when we land."
He paused. "Also... it's harder for things outside to find you when you're asleep."
The cabin fell still.
Nemo couldn't tell if he was joking—but it didn't sound like one. He was wide awake, nerves buzzing.
Then—gently—a hand rested on his shoulder.
He turned toward the darkness. It was Arbil. The quiet gesture grounded him. His body relaxed. His thoughts slowed. The storm outside faded.
And sleep came.