"One of the greatest sigils is the control sigil, Eta," the professor drew a η on the whiteboard. "It grants the wielder the power to control. Uniquely, it is the only sigil whose power can be passed down by birth." Omari sat in his Sigil Education class, grappling gun equipped as all students using them were expected to have them at all times.
To his left, Soren slouched in his seat, yawning. To his right, Samson scribbled in his notebook. "This hereditary nature exists because an unborn child's control is too weak to harm itself or its mother by accident. It's why controllers exist, and why the sigil stone for Eta is safeguarded by the head of the Khronos Family, the founder of slayer school."
He glanced around the room, ensuring he had their attention. "However, just as has control over a specific thing, the control sigil is a specific and not a generic sigil and thus must be used in tandem with another sigil." He drew a Θ, ι, κ, λ and μ. "The sigils it is most commonly used with are the elemental sigils:
Theta, the sulphur sigil;
Iota, the wind sigil;
Kappa, the water sigil;
Lambda, the mercury sigil
and Mu, the earth sigil, respectively, all of which are specific sigils. The sigil stones for these are held by their respective families: the Ferran Clan, the Zephyros Lineage, the Alchemists, the House of Argyris, and the Terran Guild."
He continued, "These families control these elements, and adoption into their lineage will lead to the control sigil and their elemental sigil being engraved onto your soul, granting you control over that element and ensuring that your children have a chance of inheriting that control or being born with their own. For some of you, this might be your first control, for others it might be your second, but it will never be your third."
Omari nudged Samsom. "Sam, listen. You can get a control."
"I don't want one." Samson said and continued to write in his book. Omari noticed Samson had some bruises and scratches but chose to say nothing.
"Just as we are limited to one sigil without a crucifix at birth, one can only ever have one control. As for achieving multiple elemental sigils, this is also impossible because there exists a rule that prevents one person being adopted into more than one family from preventing the creation of a human monster. But…"
He paused for emphasis, "There is an exception. When someone without a control demonstrates exceptional potential in the Student Slayer Showcase, and two families seek to strengthen their alliance, they may jointly adopt that individual. This rare case grants the person two elemental sigils." Soren, half-asleep moments ago, straightened in his chair, sensing the shift in tone.
"This individual would not only control both elements independently, but could use both the elemental sigils simultaneously with the control sigil to control a new element of their own, which would be stronger than all other pre-existing elements. As all power as this person sounds to using sigils is taxing and thus it has its limits on how much it can be used."
"That's why I don't want one," Samson told Omari. "I don't need limits."
"A natural born controller, however, has no limits to how many times they can use their control. So in theory, if the man from before had a child, they would be able to control this new element indefinitely."
Whispers rippled through the classroom. Samson glanced at Soren, was in shock that the professor would be mentioning this. This has nothing to do with anything anyone needs to know to be a slayer, he thought. Even Athena, seated across the room, turned her gaze toward Soren.
"But such power comes with a price. During pregnancy, the unborn child's control could accidentally kill itself or its mother. But what if it didn't? What if by the one in a billion chance the child is born even if the mother is killed? Then, students, you would have the Son of Lightning."
The room fell silent. "For your first test, you have until the end of the month to determine why wind plus sulphur results in the Son of Lightning's control, and to theorize what a combination of all elements would yield. The people with the best answers will pass this test. The class is concluded."
The monster physiology class was rather uneventful. It was all about the salamander and how when it matures, it gains the ability to breathe sparks which it usually uses to cook its 'food'. An ability Omari was lucky its salamander hadn't developed at those sparks were as hot as pure plasma and would have turned him into actual food.
Thinking about that during lunch made him lose his appetite. "Soren?" He called. "Why is it that you got lightning?"
"See, what makes the five elements special is their ties to various processes." Soren explained between his spoons of lunch. "Sulphur is connected to combustion, wind is diffusion, water is phase changing, mercury is dissolving and earth is crystallization."
"Is that why you can make your punches explode?" Omari asked Athena.
"Exactly, but I think I also just have explosive punching power." Athena said and flexed her biceps. Samson looked at her biceps and scoffed. Mine are bigger, and continued writing in his notebook as he had already finished eating.
"Can someone tell me why she's here?" Soren asked.
"Maybe you won't understand because you inherited the Zephyros' intelligence, but hearing the way you asked that question, it looks like you inherited their manners too."
Soren sighed, "This is why I hate you slayer family guys -"
"Guys, let's stop this," Omari said. "Soren, could you please finish what you were saying?'
"Gladly. So when you give combustion or let me say sparks the attribute of diffusion, you get a diffusing spark, lightning."
Omari's mind was blown. Samson was pleasantly surprised, but Athena was unfazed. This was common knowledge amongst the slayer families, but what wasn't was… "What does fusing all the elements get you, then?"
"That, I don't know." Soren said.
Samson hopped in, "From the sound, you'd need something that can combust, diffuse, change phases, dissolve and crystallize, but nothing comes to mind."
"I know we'll get the answer though and we should tell it to everyone-"
"No," Soren stopped him, "This isn't like a normal school where everyone can pass. Your success is dependent on others' failure. So if you find the answer, don't even tell us."
Samson and Athena didn't like being bossed around, but this time, they agreed. Lunch ended, and they went to the city. "Students, we meet again," the professor said. This time, he was on the ground.
"For those who took grapple guns yesterday, this class is much like the combat class. That is to say, I will not be teaching you anything. You will be teaching yourself here by traversing the city. The only thing I will tell you is that now we are at the north end of the city."
He pointed directly behind him, "I recommend you go to the south end on the other end first, then go to the east end, followed by the west end, before coming back and repeating the process. Again, I kindly ask you to try not to fall to your death. I can only heal injuries. You may begin."
Soren disappeared first—vanished in a flicker of light that streaked across rooftops. He didn't even use the grappling gun—just leapt from building to building, sometimes bursting into a streak of lightning that scorched the air behind him. Omari's eyes followed him in awe, but also with a strange hollowness. That kind of power felt unreachable.
Samson followed a beat later, but with none of Soren's flash. Where Soren moved like lightning, Samson moved like clockwork—fluid, measured, precise. Grapple. Swing. Land. Fire again. It was like the gun was an extension of his arm, already mastered.
Omari followed the crowd's gaze to Samson. He admired it. Wanted to learn it. So did the kid next to him—a wiry student with sharp eyes and a tight grip on his own grapple gun. Omari didn't know his name. Only that he was brave, maybe too brave.
He tried to mirror Samson's technique—timing, angle, everything—and fired across the same wide gap. Too far. The line caught, but only for a second. Then it slipped, loose from the edge, whipping uselessly as gravity took over. There was a scream, quick and piercing. Then silence.
Someone shouted. A girl swore. Omari didn't move. Couldn't. The professor walked to the ledge, peered over with a faint sigh, and said nothing. Gone. Just like that. Omari's mouth was dry. His heart pounded in his ears. He stood still for a full minute, staring at the edge the boy had vanished from. This is real. This is the risk you take to be a Slayer.
That fear sank into his bones but he shook it off. No. This would happen again. Again and again. If he couldn't stomach that—if he couldn't learn to move through the fear, around the grief—he would never survive. He wasn't going to survive this world by pretending death wasn't part of it.
So he let the weight settle into his chest—but not to crush him. To anchor him. "I'll remember him," Omari murmured under his breath, "but I won't stop for him." He took a deep breath, stepped forward, and fired where many remained frozen. His first swing was clumsy—his foot clipped the edge of a sign—but he landed. Rolled. Fired again.
Every move was better than the last. Each rooftop he crossed, he felt a little more steady. He wasn't trying to be like Samson anymore. He wasn't trying to be Soren. He was trying to be the kind of Slayer who didn't freeze. Someone who could save the next person.
By the end of the lesson, it was clear, Soren was still untouchable like lightning incarnate. Samson made the grappling gun as his own. But people were starting to look at Omari differently now. Not as the quiet kid who'd barely kept up. But as someone catching up. Fast.hen