Inside & Out Ch 11: Search For the Munari!

(Kael)

The walk through the Blue zones was always... humid. Not in a bad way—more like a constant dampness that clung to everything, from the soft walls to the bio-lit pathways. The gentle pulsing beneath my feet was the goddess's heartbeat echoing through her kidneys, slow and strong, a reminder that our entire world quite literally depended on her staying alive.

I adjusted the strap on my shoulder, the one holding my tools for today's shift. Another day, another deeply personal bodily crevice to clean. Today? Ear duty. Joy.

"You'd think she could clean her own ears," I muttered under my breath.

"Didn't know you talked to yourself now," came a familiar voice to my right.

I looked up—and there she was, crimson armor and all, the ever-watchful Veyna, walking beside me with her usual casual confidence, her hands resting on the hilts of her sideblades.

"Veyna," I said, smiling a little despite how tired I felt. "Should've known you'd be lurking around the filtration zones. You stalking me?"

She smirked. "Maybe. You're the only Blue who makes this place worth walking through."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow. Flattery and sarcasm. You've really outdone yourself."

We walked together in step, the air around us full of low murmurs and the rhythmic hiss of nutrient filters cycling overhead. The Blue zone was busy this morning. Crowds of workers passed by with heavy containers, and kids darted between tight alleys with school kits strapped to their backs. It always felt alive down here—even if the scent was more... mineral than pleasant.

"So," I started, casting her a sideways glance, "how's the whole Munari search going? You find our glowing mystery yet?"

She sighed, the kind that told me she'd answered that question more times than she cared to count. "The emperor's got us searching every noble house within the body. Not just Yellow homes, either—some of the higher-ranked Reds are being questioned too."

I blinked. "Seriously? That's a little... extreme, isn't it?"

"Tell that to the emperor," she said, brushing a lock of red-tinted hair behind her ear. "He's losing patience. Thinks the Munari is hiding—intentionally."

I let that sit for a second. "But why would someone hide something like that? I mean, if I suddenly started glowing and had the goddess's blessing, I'd—"

"—Completely freak out and hide in your closet?" she offered with a teasing smile.

I snorted. "Okay, maybe. But still, you'd think people would want that kind of attention."

"Maybe not everyone wants to be a god's spotlight," she replied. "The Munari's awakening does change everything. Not just for them—but for all of us."

We walked in silence after that, the kind of silence you only share with someone who doesn't need to fill every second with words. Eventually, we reached the Split—the central filtration bridge where the nutrient lines forked, and the paths between zones diverged.

I looked toward the long corridor on the left, the one that led toward the auditory canals.

"Well," I said, lifting my pack a little higher, "looks like it's ear-cleaning duty for me. Let's hope I don't run into too much wax buildup. Last time, it was like trying to mine amber out of a living mountain."

She laughed. "Gross. Thanks for that mental image."

"What about you? Still on duty?"

"Nah," she said, stretching her arms over her head with a groan. "Shift's almost over. I've got to head to the academy. They're doing another training assessment, and if I skip it again, I'll have to spar with that blowhard Torik."

I winced. "Yikes. He still doing that thing where he grunts after every sentence?"

"Grunts, flexes, monologues. He's a one-man drama show with a sword."

We both laughed, and for a second, things felt simple again. Like we were still just two kids running between organ tunnels pretending we were explorers and warriors instead of, well... actual ones.

Veyna stepped forward and gave me a quick hug—tight, familiar, warm. I hugged her back without thinking about it.

"Don't get yourself killed," she said, pulling back.

"No promises," I said with a grin. "But I'll try."

She waved, then jogged off down her corridor, her red armor gleaming in the bio-lights. I watched her go for a second before turning toward my own path. Back to work. Back to being just a Blue.

I didn't tell her about the light in my hand.

Didn't tell anyone.

Because maybe it didn't mean anything. Maybe it was just a flicker. A weird reaction. A fluke.

But still... I couldn't stop thinking about it.

And deep in my gut, somewhere beneath the layers of doubt and exhaustion—I wasn't sure I wanted it to be nothing.

***

(Charlotte)

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, slowly running a brush through my hair, watching as the bristles smoothed out the frizz that the shower hadn't completely calmed. My hair never did what I wanted on humid days—not that it mattered much anymore. I wasn't going to a sandwich shop today, or a lecture on economic structuring. I was going to be training... to be a Sentinel.

Which, honestly, still didn't feel real.

But at least something did—the book.

I glanced down at the floor where the package had been dropped off just this morning. I'd nearly tackled the poor delivery bot when I saw it sitting by the door. After a week of refreshing the tracking page like a maniac, The Complete History and Principles of the Zeyvari had finally arrived.

I stepped out of the bathroom, still brushing my hair with one hand, and crossed into my room. The book sat on my bed like a gift from the universe—thick, hardbound, with the Zeyvari sigil stamped in shimmering gold across the cover. It looked... important. It felt important. I sat beside it and ran my fingers across the title.

"With this," I whispered to myself, "I'll be able to figure out what's going on with me."

Because no one had given me a manual. No guide. Just a bunch of vague sentences like, "Your powers will develop in time," or "Trust the Zeyvari within you." Great advice when you're not glowing like a human lantern in the middle of traffic.

I cracked the book open to the first page when—

KNOCK KNOCK.

Ugh. Of course.

"Come in!" I called, trying not to sound as annoyed as I felt.

The door opened, and in stepped Lina, smiling as usual, with her arms behind her back in a very "I brought something" kind of way.

Right behind her came Finn.

I blinked, surprised. "Finn?"

"Hey, Char," he said with that boyish grin of his, pushing his glasses up as he stepped into the room.

I stood up and hugged them both—Lina first, then Finn, who felt a bit awkward, like he didn't know whether to actually hug or pat me on the back. I got both. Adorable.

"You guys didn't have to come all the way over here," I said, stepping back.

"Well, it's not every day one of your best friends becomes a Sentinel," Lina said, flopping onto my bed like she owned the place.

"I had to see the famous Charlotte Montgomery in person before she disappeared into some fancy academy forever," Finn added with a smirk, settling down in my desk chair. "Also... I may have brought cookies."

That got a laugh out of me. "Bribing me for attention, huh?"

"Only the best," he said, holding up a crinkled bag from some bakery downtown. "Peanut butter with the little chocolate chunks, your favorite."

"Okay, now you're just cheating."

We sat for a moment, talking like old times, but I noticed how quiet Finn was after the jokes faded. Eventually, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I didn't get in," he said softly.

I blinked. "What?"

"For the Sentinel program," he clarified, eyes dropping to the floor. "I failed the evaluation. No signs of Zeyvari activity. No abilities. I'm just... normal."

"Oh, Finn..." I reached out and squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, offering a weak smile. "It's fine, really. I mean, I kind of suspected. I just... thought maybe."

"I thought you had a good shot," Lina added, quieter now. "We all did."

"I wanted to do something that mattered, you know?" Finn looked at me. "But hey, you got in. That means something."

"Thanks," I said, though the word felt small in my mouth.

Because the truth was... I didn't know what it meant. I didn't feel chosen or special or destined. I just felt confused. Scared, even. What had happened that day still played on a loop in my mind—the white void, the blue-haired boy, the glowing energy in my chest. It all felt too big for me.

"You should be proud," Finn said. "This is your chance to bring honor to your family. To do something bigger than making sandwiches and studying balance sheets."

I chuckled dryly. "Honor, huh?"

He nodded.

"Yeah," I said, leaning back into my pillows, eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "I guess."

But even as I said it, something in my chest twisted. Not guilt. Not shame.

Uncertainty.

Because this thing I was stepping into? It wasn't just a school. It wasn't just training. It was power. It was responsibility. And I didn't know if I was strong enough to carry it.

Not yet, anyway.