Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (2/?) (Patreon)

The Institute for Anomalous Studies, Earth

Director Elizabeth Weir

Emma was the perfect candidate. A 19 year old female, impeccable academic record, commendations left and right from her JROTC reports, and with little to no social or familial attachments to speak of… the latter factor was especially vital given the sensitive nature of this particularly exceptional operation.

For centuries now we’ve been observing, tracking, analyzing, and studying what is undeniable evidence of a world parallel to our own. A world that lurks just underneath the surface, that served as a source of myths and legends for our ancestors, and that continues to serve as a limitless pool of inspiration to those gifted enough to peer across the veil; inadvertently acting as a source of inspiration for countless works of fantasy and fiction

Indeed this world would’ve been left at that, fiction, if it wasn’t for the thankless efforts of our founder and greatest benefactor: Dr Julian Li. A man shunned by his peers, and practically excommunicated from the scientific community for his outlandish and impossible claims. Claims that would later be proven true, which would eventually culminate in the establishment of the IAS and its eventual incorporation into the United Nations’ Science Advisory Organization.

What Dr. Li discovered was irrefutable evidence of what could only be described as a world of magic and sorcery, a fantasy world by every metric. One that had the potential to upend our own. It was an existential threat by every metric of the word, and so naturally, every resource was poured into further studies on this world and its non-analogous scientific principles.

Yet the more we tried peering in, the less information we got back. It was a battle of diminishing returns that lasted for centuries before we finally made a breakthrough. Our equivalent of discovering the Rosetta Stone.

We discovered a means of communicating with the powers that be on the other side of the fence, and indeed, we later discovered that this was intentional. The journey we’d been on for the past few centuries, the discovery of this puzzle as they called it, all of it was a test, a test to determine the quote “magical potential” for those “gifted” from other worlds. Indeed, it was a test that was highlighted as commonplace and had been in place for what was described to us as “eons” now.

Mumbles were heard on the other side how we technically weren’t ever expected to pass this test, given how magically deficient we naturally were. This was because every other civilization in the galaxy had long since passed the test, we were for all intents and purposes the last to do so.

And as a result, we were the last to enter this realm of magic and sorcery.

This perhaps explained why it was that we had detected no other technologically advanced civilizations, even as we developed FTL and roamed the galaxy for intelligent life… theories abound on how this divergent pathway would have stagnated technological development, but that was a story for another day.

Our correspondences led us to the understanding that upon completion of this test, that a single candidate be sent through the threshold for further evaluation before their host civilization was allowed to fully peer into this great unknown. It called for a candidate roughly of 19 years of age, any sex and gender, with what they described to us as “a heart of gold and a willingness to accept what is beyond the known, and willing to sacrifice it all should it come to it”.

Yet as we sent our first candidate through the threshold, it was clear that not only were we ‘magically deficient’, but that magic was actively rejecting us. Despite being in full PPE that should have protected against every hazard known to science, our first candidate was returned to us in a near unrecognizable state. An autopsy revealed the signs of a breakdown of cellular matrices on a microscopic level, and what would only be described as near-liquefaction of our first human candidate.

But after some time was allowed for grieving and therapy to be done, alongside whatever cover stories were needed to keep this under wraps, we knew we had to try again.

It was decided then, that we would spend however much more time was necessary in order to study, probe, and poke at the dangers that lie beyond this threshold. In order to best counter it using every tool at our disposal.

It took decades, but the results spoke for themselves. Decades, and after what we hoped weren’t lethal doses of ‘mana’ radiation later, we finally pulled it off. The ultimate expression of human defiance against an environment that would see us dead without an iota of empathy or compassion. The culmination of centuries of work, of sacrifice and hardship: the Mark I Exoreality and Atypical Radiation Resistant Suit (E-ARRS), or what most in the team now colloquially called the Enchanted Armor.

Based on the framework of modern power armor expressly designed for combat in the vacuum of space, the suit was nothing short of a technological marvel. Layers upon layers of exotic materials protected the wearer from a total of 29 distinct types of magical radiation. A hermetically sealed oversuit and helmet prevented any exposure to the air, and kept any foreign contaminants (be it biological or chemical) from coming into contact with the wearer. Pieces of composite armor were attached almost identically to the original design, with the weight of it all carefully distributed and compensated by an exoskeleton sandwiched between the undersuit and the oversuit, hence the term power armor. Gauntlet-mounted laser and kinetic personal defense weapons were attached to both arms, despite the other side calling for the candidate to be sent unarmed.

Yet despite our best efforts a candidate was still needed to pilot this through the threshold.

And that’s where Emma comes in.

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The North American Polytechnic Institute, Earth

Emma Booker

When I was called away just before my first uni classes by a bunch of folks in black suits and sunglasses, I knew something was up. When we first walked to a row of unmarked vans, it became even more apparent that something was definitely up. When they talked about how nothing could be discussed prior to our arrival at the van’s intended destination, I knew that I was probably never going to see my old life ever again.

Despite all of this though I knew I didn’t have much of a choice. They were UN agents, operating under legitimate jurisdiction, what would resisting get me? Like most of my life, I meandered from one direction to the next, all but allowing the powers that be to dictate where it was I was supposed to go.

First it was my parents, then after the plane crash, it was the state, and after I’d gone through the hoops of finally entering adulthood proper, I simply gave in to the easiest direction that lay ahead of me, what I knew my parents would’ve expected of me: university. Yet my time in JROTC gave me purpose, the military had always felt like a home away from home with how everything was organized and run. There was always someone higher up to consult, someone of equal rank to share a sense of camaraderie. So the university/rotc route was just second nature to me…

So this sudden departure from a life I had begun to craft for myself was beyond disorientating. Yet I hoped, I trusted that it would lead to someplace better, as life always seems to do for most folks.

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The Institute for Anomalous Studies, Earth

Emma Booker

It took a few hours, but upon arrival at whatever this place was, it was clear that I was being dragged someplace way beyond my as-of-yet nonexistent paygrade. Everyone had been rather hospitable with me however, there were snacks and refreshments offered during the journey, the private that opened the car doors greeted me warmly into the facility… things were a far cry from the clandestine operation that popular media would have you believe.

Yet the deeper we walked into the facility, the more it was clear this wasn’t your run of the mill operation.

Questions abounded through my head as I was eventually led face to face with what the private told me was the head of this whole operation. A woman who eventually introduced herself to me as-

“Director Elizabeth Weir, a pleasure to meet you Ms. Booker.” The Director spoke, carrying with her the authority of any strong civilian leader in a position where the military was certainly bound heads with. Her outfit was simple enough, a matching pair of white pants, blouse, and an off-white suit jacket, with a small pin denoting her affiliations with the UN’s civilian leadership and another pin that I assumed was perhaps indicative of this operation.

“Ma’am.” I responded with a salute.

“Oh there’s no need for that, I’ve had enough of my share of formalities for the day. Right now, let’s focus on getting to know one another, and discussing why you're here in the first place.”

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The Transgracia Academy for Magical Arts, Nexus

Emma Booker

So this was it. The journey was… strangely uneventful. Really, it felt more like I just left one room and entered another. Though the fact I had managed to greet these three fantasy-looking cosplayers, and remain standing for longer than ten seconds probably meant the suit was doing its job. As I breathed a sigh of relief, one that immediately caught the attention of the blue-robed elf, who immediately came to my side.

“Emma was it? How are you feeling? I heard you exhaling rather harshly there, please, if you feel nauseous, light-headed, faint, or anything, please tell me immediately and we can reopen the portal to try-”

“Whoah whoah whoah” I raised up both hands, careful not to brush the man’s bare arm too roughly given the suit’s power differentials were still something I hadn’t yet gotten used to. “I… I’m fine. I feel fine at least. I erm. If I feel off or anything I’ll be sure to tell you… sir?” I cocked my head, realizing that none of the three had yet to have introduced themselves as I remained there awkwardly.

“Ah, yes, the introductions.” The black-robed one spoke next. This one was also elvish… except, darker, almost purple? A purple with a heavy hint of charcoal. Like someone had poured activated charcoal into grape soda. His hair was slick and formed back into two distinct locks, which made me rethink just how advanced these guys were if hair gel was already a thing. “I am Council-Appointed Professor Mal’tory, I am in charge of administrative duties relaying matters of academic significance to the Privy Council and His Excellency the King himself. As a Professor I am in charge of the Arts of Perception and Light.” The man refused to acknowledge me in any other way than a piercing stare. I bowed my head all the same though, not wanting to break any social faux pas on my first day.

“And I am Professor Vanavan, assistant to the Dean, and Professor of of Mana-field Studies.” The blue-robed elf who had rushed up to me spoke, giving me half of a head nod before turning to the older, clearly winded red-robed professor.

“This is Professor Belnor, she’s in charge of the Potions Department and Professor of potions crafting.”

“We’re happy to have you here, Emma of the Earthrealm.”

Once introductions were firmly out of the way, I gave a firmer, more decidedly bow as the blue robed professor once more took to the helm gesturing for me to follow.

“We’re going to have some discussions about your uniform and your manner of dress, but let’s get you settled with the academy first before that!” He spoke jovially, as all three professors began to leave the room, with the sole exception of the black-robed one who seemed particularly fixated on a weird slit on a far flung corner of the room.