38 Where are you?

"Leonardo Davinci? As in the Leonardo Davinci?" I asked, my voice full of curiosity.

"Yes, that is my me." He seemed to be mildly amused at my question. Given that he probably got that kind of response quite often, it was a testament to his character that he wasn't annoyed by it yet. I know I certainly would be.

After all, he was one of the most prominent figures in history. Even now, in 2100, he was still recognized and known by the masses on the street.

Uneducated people who didn't know why he was important still recognized the name.

"This day just keeps on giving." I chuckled lightly. This was perhaps one of the strangest days since my powers had arrived.

That was probably a statement that I had thought of many times after my abilities had come in. I would most likely say it many more times, but today was undoubtedly one of the most fascinating ones so far.

It had started with my death and incomplete pseudo resurrection. It had moved on to me potentially being recruited by an organization that lived in the afterlife.

Not to mention that one of history's most recognized figures was the supervisor for my trial period.

I gently shook my head at the absurdity of the situation simply rolled off me. While still a surprising day, I had started to grow used to the absurd.

"Well, then Sir Davinci, what is going on exactly?" I asked as I focused all my on the man.

He swiped through many papers before picking the one that held my information.

Whatever that was on the paper wasn't English. I understood it to be either French or Italian. Plus, based on who was sitting in front of me, I would put money on it being Italian...

Davinci might not personally be my favorite, but I can appreciate a genius even if.

He sighed in exasperation. "None of that sir nonsense."

"I've grown much too tired of it over these centuries. Leonardo will do or Leo if you really feel so inclined." His reply was delivered with a warm and welcoming voice.

"Leonardo, it is."

" Okay then," he said. "Let's get this started." As he spoke, he pulled out a singular paper.

"Says here that you are a former human turned dullahan...suspected to have only recently turned into a dullahan?" He read from the paper with a look of quiet concentration and looked up at me as he asked the question.

"Yes, that is true" I had contemplated denying the recentness of the Dullahan transformation. However, I doubted that them knowing when I had become one could be used against me.

They hadn't found any other sources of energy so, I should be alright.

Plus, it wasn't as if I wasn't one in the sense that they believed.

He nodded at my reply before returning back to the paper.

"So, what part of the Initiation process is this. I'm a bit confused right now. This is all rather sudden."

Once again, he looked up from his paper.

"Apologies, you must be confused."

He shook his head disapprovingly before he continued to speak.

"Isabella, while warm in many ways, does not tend to be all that helpful to those she does not know. I had for some reason assumed that she had told you beforehand."

He cleared his throat as he continued on.

"Currently, I will be evaluating you to see whether or not you should be allowed in the program. I have to make sure that you are sane and not a danger to anyone. But just between us ... " he leaned in slightly as he continued on the explanation.

"As long as you're not Murderously insane, the organization will let you in. We need all the help we can get. We still have standards, but they are at their lowest in that they've ever been in the last 30 years."

Despite the gravity of the situation, he seemed calm and amused by it. As if he was telling me an inside joke.

My lack of reaction only seemed to amuse him more."You'll get it eventually."

I raised my eyebrow at that but decided to ignore it.

They say that most geniuses are eccentric after all.

I would be surprised if he wasn't eccentric to a certain extent as well.

"You don't have enough bodies in the afterlife to recruit from.".

He smiled mirthfully.

"You would be surprised."

For a second, I thought he would continue the explanation, but he simply returned to looking at the paper.

Apart from that, I will be your supervisor and sort of a teacher for your trial period if you are let in." After a couple seconds where his eyes skimmed over the paper, he simply put it down before intertwining his fingers and resting his chin upon them. A thoughtful look adorned his face.

"I always find the papers to be so bare and dull to read. Even after all these centuries, I would much rather talk to the person themselves. So William Francis tells me about yourself."

The interview with Davinci had left me feeling quite intrigued by the whole situation of this world. It hadn't been a one-sided barrage of questions but more of a conversation. And Davinci was an exceptional conversationalist. Every word he spoke was methodically examined before being placed. It was probably one of the most enjoyable conversations I had had in a while.

So enjoyable in fact, that halfway through it, I had nearly forgotten that this was for my trial period of this organization. It had been as if I was talking to an old friend. I had walked out feeling quite relaxed and a lot more at ease.

After that, he had escorted me to a spacious and lavish room within the building. It was more of an apartment than a room, but it was called a room by him.

It was one of the most futuristic-looking rooms ever, but it wasn't the clunky and flashy futuristic look. It was sleek and elegant and exuded wealth. In a way, it reminded me of my previous penthouse apartment.

It was 50 floors down from the previous floor, which was apparently on floor 200.

He had then left to apparently hand in the papers to his superiors. Who would have the final say as to whether I would be allowed in or not. I was told that I would have to stay here for a day. The process was apparently a quick one, which is why I wouldn't have to wait days to fully understand what exactly was going on.

Currently, I was in a bathrobe as I dined on some rather delicious roast beef and potatoes. The aroma of the food had so tempting when delivered that it was almost an obligation that use my title to give myself a head again. All the while, I rewatched Code Geass for perhaps the 51st time. All that was available at the press of a button. The room apparently came with a service button as well.

This whole experience had been good so far. I was still slightly cautious of the entire situation, but it's hard to remain tense when in a lavish room and when eating good food.

Only once I was done did I finally continue my attempts to restore the power up the fulcrum.

This world had immensely sped up the process from both sides. I could feel the connection slowly being reestablished. It would take a long time to ever recover to its previous heights, but the progress was noticeably faster.

It was perhaps 4 hours into my meditation when I felt the all so familiar process of myself being drawn into the fulcrum. I expected an immediate arrival, but instead, I was forced to slowly travel through a void for a period of time that felt like days before I slammed into the floor of the fulcrum island.

I instantly turned my awareness to my powers and quickly breathed a sigh of relief.

My powers within the fulcrum were unaffected, but the instantaneous traversal was no longer there.

As my eyes swept around and took in my surrounding, I realized that something was missing.

Where was Iz?

........................

The tales of our history speak about the talent and ability of ancient man. It speaks of their raw strength and of the ease at which titles were granted.

It speaks of the speed at which they created their meridians and rose through realms and stages. It speaks of the devotion to gods whose names have been forgotten and of progression unmarred by outside influences.

And perhaps these stories might have once been true. However, that is no longer the case for us humans. Every realm of cultivation is faced with tribulation that ends up in nearly a third of cultivators not passing. Of those that try to break through again, half of them die.

The top levels of cultivation are dangerous, and some argue if it's even worth it. Titles have become so much more scarce, and the training methods on how to get them are hoarded by the elite families.

The Ventus and the Arnaud family hold control of the first ancient titles. The rest of the families guard theirs just as intensely. While the rest slave away and risk their lives for mediocre ones.

They have been gifted the most blessed paths of power while we risk our limbs to hunt down beasts for a method that often leads to madness. All the while, the mist encroaches on the world and sings its horrible songs of madness. We can't keep living like this. Humanity is being attacked from all sides and from within.

Hopefully, the return of the Oracle might save us.

[Diary of a BeastMan 5558 Bf]