Little Pilot Academia

Chapter 133

Horn could feel his insides shaking with joy. Each of his steps had a spring to it, even though he tried to hide it. With how obvious he was being, even humans would be able to notice that something was wrong with him. Humans, so... simple. Only their faces emoted, and they used their bodies as a mere accompaniment to that. Still, they were as easy to read as Horn was right now.

He walked through his house - a small conglomerate of caves that were isolated from the rest of the network save for its entrance - and felt the power pulsing through the walls. Lighting was unnecessary this deep under the surface. Inferno energy coated most walls, not only lighting everything perfectly but also making it extremely easy to power every device in his house. A door in front of him opened automatically and he slipped into a big room that he himself had carved when he was younger. Building cities underground was hard in most planets, but Inferno empowered the rock and dirt of Erebus, making it so much easier to mold. Of course, humans had slowly begun realizing that magic had a similar potential, even though Faeries had been using it for centuries, if not millennia. Their stupidly tall buildings wouldn't have been able to stand at those heights with such shabby construction methods otherwise.

Horn huffed. Faeries. Weak. He hated thinking about weakness. He focused on what he wanted to do.

In the middle of the room stood a small cylinder made with black metal. It was of a soft black, his favorite color. To humans and most races, all blacks looked roughly the same. Even those who could spot the differences didn't really care for them. Some of his muscles tensed up with annoyance. Relax, he said, gaining control over his body again.

The cylinder of black metal opened in front of him. When he stepped into it, he was instantly transported to another world, a world of white floors and purple skies. The world of a simulation. Not to practice, like he had used this for in the past. Neither to relive a previous race. Instead, took the small pouch he'd been carrying and took out a device not bigger than his hand. It had three spheres interconnected by wires, all of them leading to a small square in the center. Each sphere glowed a different color.

Green, Red and Blue. Magic, Inferno and Light Flame.

Inside the cylinder, he spoke a few words. What humans described as a screeching language the Daemons considered the most efficient way of communicating, and if not for the shapeshifters, they'd probably hold the title for most practical language on the planetary alliance.

The simulation in front of him seemed to fail, a small patch of black appearing in mid-air, breaking the horizon. Horn reached forth, his hand grasping at a small latch, and the black opened,showing inside a small square device glowing red.

Horn ripped it free from its place, collapsing the simulation, and replaced it with his newer engine.

And instantly, he felt power surging through him. Yes. Yes.

Humans didn't know of this. No one in the Planetary Alliance knew of this. Of the symbiotic relationship the daemons had with their planet. Every daemon was, through their lives, infused with some amount of Inferno energy. It gave them strength and allowed them to live for long periods of time without food or water. In turn, when they died, that energy was released to the atmosphere, where it would later rain and energize life on the surface, which would in turn give it back to the planet.

But this was a whole another level. Horn could feel his brain, on his lower back, getting overwhelmed. The three clashing energies rushing through him in a race, mixing and fighting and wanting to tear his body apart, shred it to pieces and escape. Good thing daemon bodies were resistant.