Beneath a starry sky—and surrounded by all those I held dear—countless sources of euphoria washed over me. From start to finish, it only took a handful of seconds for the transformations to occur. Whether it was the power now suffusing the world, or the strength of the chi within the fish, these new cultivators were... different. I was certain of it. The speed with which the universe’s knowledge poured into them was stunning.

  Amazingly, that wasn’t the only difference. I thought it my imagination, but as light from the first awakenings faded, my senses confirmed it: some of the new cultivators had aspected chi within them—a shadow of the essence that would one day facilitate their advancement.

  This newest group of awakened... They were closer to a breakthrough after their ascension than any before them. Myself included. I hadn’t the faintest idea what had caused it, but that was irrelevant. Their strength was a net gain for Tropica, and our forces would only grow stronger when they had their breakthroughs. Which could be soon, if their cores could be believed. I smiled as I stared out at them, loving the mix of wonder, joy, and sheer bewilderment on their faces.

  Now that the fog clouding my mind had been cleared away by the fish’s chi, a small but insistent part of me wanted to reach out toward those whose cores held that promise of future advancement. The metaphorical devil on my shoulder was telling me to do so, reassuring me that they probably wouldn’t notice my interruption. But a larger—and just as insistent—part of me denied that course of action. Even if there was only a slight chance they noticed, and an even slighter chance that it ruined their night, I wasn’t going to take that gamble Besides, I had more important things to do.

  As the last source of light and euphoria faded, I raised another chunk of fish to my nose and breathed in its overwhelming scents.

  “Wait,” Maria said, shielding her eyes as they readjusted to the darkness. “Let’s try the different condiments together.”

  She raised a slice of lemon, squeezing a few drops onto my portion before adding some to hers. She shot me an excited grin, then threw the lemony morsel into her mouth. I followed suit. Twin crunches rang out as we bit down, and I could tell the difference almost immediately.

  As it so often did, the lemon’s acidic punch and fresh flavor cut through the oil and fat with ease. They were still there, but much less intense than last time, a fruity overtone lifting the entire experience to new heights. Peter was right; I might not have been able to appreciate the change if I hadn’t eaten the fish plain first. I’d already known this, of course, but the instruction wasn’t for me—it was for the newcomers.

  As the tastes lingered, I looked out at the sea of faces. Some stared at Maria and me. Others gazed at Barry, Theo, Roger, or one of the other members of the congregation, their eyes and emotions pleading for guidance. When someone answered the unasked question, I raised a brow, taken aback that he’d been the first to reply.

  “Eat up,” Roger had said in a fatherly tone. “It’s not every day that we have a feast, so enjoy the food while it’s hot. Everything else—awakenings included—can wait.”

  “Here, here!” George called, raising a fried chunk high, then dipping it into a dark reduction that smelled like garlic. The fish disappeared into his mouth a moment later, all tension leaving his shoulders as it hit his tongue.

  As cheers of agreement came from the original congregation, I stole glances at the new arrivals, noting their confusion. They had become cultivators, something that, up until recently, they’d believed to be a curse. We’d taught them otherwise. Showed them that awakening didn’t mean you would go insane or need to be chained. And now, only seconds after they had taken steps on the path of ascension, we were telling them that their enjoyment of the feast was more important than anything else.

  Those that peered my way, seeking my approval or opinion, only received a smile and a nod in return—a few nods if they didn’t believe the first. One by one, the newly ascended grabbed more food from their plates. Lemon was added, seasoning was sprinkled, and assorted reductions were dipped into. Some brave souls even tried multiple flavors on the same bit of fish. The crunching that rang out was music to my ears. I had to withdraw my senses by force, lest everyone’s emotions overwhelm me, but their faces and the animated conversations that followed were indication enough.

  The rest of the food disappeared in relative silence. It was a sort of quiet intensity, as if people didn’t want to disrespect the fish by talking. I paid it little attention, though—I had my own plate to get through. The different species provided much needed variety, and I found myself swapping between them. Cichlids had a strong flavor and soft meat. Shore fish were as subtle as ever, their taste easily overshadowed if you added too many seasonings.

  From what little conversations that were taking place, everyone’s perception of the meal was different. Among the varied pallets, there was one constant: the deep fried salmon was best. It excelled in flavor, texture, and depth. Not to mention chi content, which provided any food or drink a hard-to-quantify boost. As I looked around at the tabletops, I smiled—every single plate had at least one of the deep-fried chunks remaining. Mine did, too. It was human nature to save the best bite for last.

  I held onto mine as long as possible, wanting to eat it with them, but when I saw how slow some were eating, I could wait no longer.

  I turned to Maria. “Should we have our last bite togeth—”

  She froze, her single remaining chunk of fish held before her open mouth. “Don’t look at me like that! I couldn’t wait any longer!”

  I barked a laugh, squeezed some lemon over my portion, and plopped it onto my tongue.

  Mmmm, we both hummed, the sound muted by the crunch of crispy breadcrumbs.

  Conversation grew around us as we savored the moment. No matter where I went in Tropica, there was always at least one person surprised to see me, so I’d become used to being stared at. Now, though? Not one gaze flicked my way. Everyone was too busy talking to their neighbor to spare me a thought.

  Maria inhaled sharply. “Fischer! Over there!”

  Barry—whose lats provided an unmissable silhouette—reacted at the same time, his broad back going rigid. I had sealed my awareness away, so I sent strands of chi racing out into the world, connecting to the network below and letting me sense my surroundings. I immediately found the source of Maria and Barry’s surprise.

  Something was happening within a core, and it wasn’t one of the new cultivators. I hadn’t interacted with her in a while, but I could never forget Bonnie. I’d already marked her as an out-of-the-box thinker when we were crafting back before New Tropica was reabsorbed. We’d been making the fishing rods that we still used today, and father than create what I was thinking of, she’d imagined the bastard lovechild of a grappling hook and a harpoon.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  But as unique as that creation had been, it was nothing compared to the chi currently swelling within her core. She was... hungry. And not in the yawning maw looking to absorb everything kind of way. She was literally hungry. Not just for food, but that was a part of it. Curious how hunger had facilitated a breakthrough, I opened myself up to her thoughts, stopping short of barging my way into her psyche.

  It was captivating. Peter’s breakthrough came to mind, his essence a similar shade to hers, but not in the way that one might think. He wanted to feed others. He desired to be the embodiment of a hearth that others could gather around, swapping stories and eating nourishing food. Bonnie, though, wanted to be the one eating said food. She wanted to... consume?

  Even that word felt wrong, though; it carried negative connotations, harkening back to the imaginary, all-consuming maw. She didn’t just want to devour food. She wanted to experience it. As if she knew what I was thinking, her will shifted, exploring her own consciousness.

  Just as I’d already gleaned, it wasn’t only food she desired. She wanted adventure, too. She was a pioneer. A trailblazer. Bonnie wanted to experience the highest heights that Kallis had to offer. She wanted to eat the tastiest food, witness the prettiest sights, and walk the path less traveled.

  I’m not ashamed of wanting more. Her thoughts bled outward, making their way to my ears. This is who I want to be. Her core urged her on, vibrating. This is who I am, even if others hate me for being selfish.

  And there it was—the crux of her doubt. She would, if given the opportunity, pursue fun over obligation. Her very nature meant that if she had to choose between harvesting a crop and following a funny-looking crab along the shore… well, the crops would go untended.

  I couldn’t help but grin. We’d never have hated her for something so trivial. If anything, I liked her more. Funny-looking animals were one of life’s great gifts.

  Even before the explosion came, I knew that it would. Her words were true, her realization profound. I appeared behind her in a flash of light, no fog remaining to cloud my will. Raising a hand, I crafted a barrier of essence, building a skyward-facing cone for the energy to travel. I didn’t think anyone would have been severely injured if I hadn’t jumped in, but I could definitely see the vibe being ruined if dozens of people were violently slammed into others via chi explosion.

  When the essence flew from her, I was thankful I’d erred on the side of caution. Rather than shoot outward, her chi seemed to implode, creating a vacuum. Night air rushed in to fill the void, and I cringed at the chaos that would have occurred if I’d not raised a shield. In retrospect, it made total sense. Her core—her very soul—wanted more.

  Despite being cultivators, the newly ascended didn’t have the power or awareness to witness what had happened. They stared at me in the aftermath as I lowered the shields and held Bonnie’s shoulder, steadying her.

  She recovered quickly, and as her thoughts returned to the present, a potent wave of joy and awe washed through her. But when she took in the surrounding faces, a thin yet undeniable layer of dread rose up, threatening to flatten her happiness.

  I leaned down beside her, pretending that I was straightening the bench she sat on, and whispered soft enough for only her to hear. “I’m proud of you. Come see me after the feast.” I stood tall, stretching and rubbing my back as everyone stared at either Bonnie or I. “Excuse my interruption! Just wanted to make sure that no one was accidentally hurt.” I smiled down at her, ensuring all heard my voice when I continued. “Congratulations, Bonnie. That’s as worthy a goal as any.”

  With a slight gesture of one finger, I appeared back on the sand beside Maria and my two crabby companions. Even from so far away, I could feel the weight my words had removed from Bonnie’s shoulders. Her new ideal had needed only the slightest of encouragement to shrug off the dread.

  Next to me, Maria lounged in the sand, caressing her stomach. “Who was it...? She feels kinda familiar.”

  I shook my head at how casual Maria was being about a breakthrough. “I’ll give you three hints. She’s a cultivator from Gormona, her ascending is beyond interesting, and she was present when we mass-crafted the rods.”

  “Fischer, that narrows it down to like dozens of—oh! Her?” She sat upright, then winced and caressed her stomach again. “The one that made the hook from hell? That is interesting, especially given your next project.”

  “Right?” I leaned back in the sand beside Maria. “Everything is coming together.”

  She snorted, and I raised my eyebrow, not expecting that response. “What’s up..?”

  “Ellis is going to be so mad that he missed this.”

  “Good. That’s what he gets for being such a prick. He’ll be even more annoyed when he finds out about dessert. There’s something for you too, Snips.”

  “Dessert?” Maria sat upright. “Don’t tease me, Fischer. You didn’t have time to organise it...”

  Yeah! Snips agreed with an accusatory snipper pointed at my chest. No teasing!

  “I suppose you’re correct. I didn’t have the time… but what about Sue and Sturgill?”

  Maria leaped to her feet, scanning everyone with her eyes and chi both. Snips did the same, Rocky getting up onto his spiky little tippytoes as he held her overhead.

  “Speak of the devil...” I said, standing and facing the north just in time for their arrival.

  Sue and Sturgill, the latter’s arms carrying a tray piled so high that I couldn’t see his face, came into view of the firelight. A soft breeze swept past them, blowing the scents of lemon, passiona husk, and fresh-cooked pastry across the gathering.

  “You better have saved us a plate!” Sue yelled, her steps hurried. “Lest I throw these into the ocean!”

  “Two plates!” Sturgill added, entirely too loud as he set down his burden on the closest table. “Each! I’m starving!!”

  With a grin, I nodded at Borks, who dashed forward and tore a portal into space. The scents wafting from it told Sturgill that his prizes were inside. He leaped in with abandon, making Sue shake her head and begin muttering about foolish men. She put on a good front, but I could feel her desire for the food—it rivalled Sturgill’s own.

  Sue swept around the feast, placing trays of still-warm pastries on the tables. As she reached the bottom of her supplies, a collection of treats with fish in the center were revealed. The person closest to Sue, having likely expected something else, gagged.

  But they weren’t for us; they were for our animal pals.

  Rocky got to his feet, blowing bubbles that told his beloved Snips to wait where she rested.

  “Would you mind getting us some too, Rocky?” I asked. “Of the sweet variety, I mean.”

  But of course, dearest Fischer, his soft hiss told me. With a final drag of a cigarette I hadn’t even noticed him smoking, he chucked the butt into his mouth and scuttled away.

  “Things sure change fast around here...” Maria watched Rocky as he deftly wove between tables and leaped up onto a bench to collect his prizes. “You’ve got yourself quite the man in that one, Snips.”

  The sergeant, sturdy of carapace and reliable of character, nodded in agreement, a soft blush coming to where her cheeks—or where they would be if she had them.

  “I always wondered what you saw in him,” I replied, not talking softly. “But you had the right of it. Rocky is one hell of a crab.”

  Having been privy to our conversation, Rocky stood a little taller as he swept back in with our pastries. I plucked one from the plate, selecting what looked like a lemon danish with dots of passiona.

  Its flavor hitting my tongue wiped my mind clear of thoughts.

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