Echoes Of Anima Ch 02

Author's Notes

Thrust into this unexpected journey and his full potential unlocked, Wyatt undergoes training at CABRI for new breeders. To prepare for this journey, he must come to terms with his own morals and the mandate being given to him. At face value, those two things are in conflict. Through the teachings of the Breeder Instructor at CABRI he learns just what his new job entails. Will he be able to complete his mission? Will they ever let him get home? Read below to see the next part of his journey!

Thanks everyone who left such wonderful feedback on Chapter 1 of this series. I am really excited to move this story along and share in the adventure with you all. Please continue to leave feedback on your thoughts about Wyatt's adventure!

As always, thanks to my editor KenjiSato!

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Two Days Later

"The abilities of your Anima are not some pre-calculated point-and-click superpowers like a Sunday morning cartoon. They are organic, varying, and rely intimately on your mastery of the link with your Anima."

The hot Westorian spring radiated amongst the glass walls around them in the courtyard of the eighth floor of Camelot Advanced Biological Research Institute (CABRI). Six boys stood in lines on either side of an Astroturf field, facing one another and their Anima. All six boys, each unique, but with the common purpose of being the latest breeders that CABRI had been able to produce.

Among them, Wyatt Daycott, and his partner, the Westorian Noccanis Requiem, observed the field of their peers as they underwent advanced training in Anima battle tactics.

"Your relationship with your Anima is the key to your power as partners. While you are their masters, they are entitled to respect, the same respect you give yourself." Doctor Caldwell, the sharp-chinned and debonair head instructor of the CABRI Breeder Program paced across the turf between the two lines of newly-minted breeders.

All of what he was saying made sense to Wyatt. The farm boy from Wicketsham had been raising Anima his whole life, as he tended to his family's farm. He did see, however, a few of the other boys paid close attention to a handbook that had been given to them.

Percival, a rather timid boy next to Wyatt, and his roommate, struggled to keep notes and little pastel-colored flags amongst the pages of knowledge. Wyatt told him, time and time again, it was just common sense, but Percival was more of a book-smart-kind-of guy. He hurriedly jotted down as much as he could, as Doctor Caldwell brisked through the instruction. Shaking his head, Wyatt couldn't help but laugh at the bookish boy's frantic attempt to take all of this in. Though, conversely, a few other boys had already thrown their books behind them and were paying little attention to the lesson.

Another boy, in particular, who was looking rather sure of himself, scoffed at the idea the relationship between master and Anima was anything but a focus on the former. Rudeth, a rich boy from Isador, stood directly across from Percival, arms folded as he muttered misgivings with the lesson. Beside him, a rather small Anima, known as a Pugnash, squatted, its blunt face a stuffy layer of folding chops and drool.

"Not every boy and girl out there gets this level of instruction." Doctor Caldwell's inflection signaled his seriousness and the coming end of his speech. "Most downstairs are given a slap on the back, pointed in the direction of the road, and told to march down it..." He made references to the boys downstairs, who could not become breeders. Boys like Dylan and Orrin, whom Wyatt had grown acquainted with, before being whisked away by Nurse Christi. They were probably far down that road by then. "... You lot are going to be far more prepared than they, and that's what's going to help you in your mission. Look at your Anima, and then look around. Each of you will be charged with the future of this nation... this world. Your success as trainers is integral to that."

Requiem, sitting on his haunches looking proud, seemed to understand the importance of that moment. Wyatt gave his four-legged friend a pat on the head, contemplating what exactly he had got himself into. He never was a battler. Lots of kids, and even adults, loved to battle Anima. It was in the beast's nature after all. But Wyatt enjoyed the peaceful farm life. This was going to be a departure for him.

"Each of you now will battle your Anima here on this field. Training against each other, like iron sharpening iron."

Wyatt was not quite sure how the little Pugnash across from Percival would be like iron sharpening iron against the scaly Terragon at his timid friend's hip.

"All right, nerd," Rudeth called across to Percival, with proud disdain. "Let's see what you and that lizard can do." His Pugnash hopped forward on its four stubby legs and growled.

That tone didn't strike Wyatt too kindly. But Percival was too gentle to stand up for himself.

"Percival, don't make a show of it, just do what feels natural for your Anima." Wyatt nodded to his friend as Percival clenched the note-laden book to his chest.

"Errrr, yeah, I know..." Percival stepped forward onto the field across from his haughty-looking peer. He squinted his eyes, trying to control the mental link running through himself, his NEST, and his Anima.

The two trainers, under the supervision of Doctor Caldwell, then nodded and locked eyes in battle. Percival could not keep the gaze with Rudeth, dropping his eyes at a rather key moment.

"Okay, Scalezard, let's... let's go!" He pointed at the Pugnash, watching his lizard-anima shoot forward with a zig-zag gate as they mentally shared what was more than likely an over-calculated and bookish strategy.

Wyatt wondered just what possessed him to name his Terragon, 'Scalezard'.

"Hmmph." Rudeth was not impressed. "Montgomery... let's show this nerd what true genetic superiority is."

Percival had little time to react, too busy looking in his notes for what to do in response.

Wyatt was preoccupied with wondering who would call an Anima 'Montgomery'. Who let these kids name things?

"Harness the power of the light around you! Capture the power of the sun!" Rudeth yelled, casting his hand forward dramatically. His flowery words served no real purpose other than to be theatrical; the true commands wordlessly passing between master and beast.

The small, unassuming Pugnash snorted, taking a breath in which the rays of the sun collected around its maw. At the ensuing exhale, a sharp beam of light shot forth, catching the Terragon in the side and sending it toppling over and over.

"Impressive!" Doctor Caldwell clapped. He favored Rudeth. They were two rich, pretty-boy peas in the pod. "Gentlemen, pause for a second. What Rudeth and Montgomery had demonstrated here is known as a Genetica."

Oohs and aahs from all around, as they clapped at the brilliant light show. Wyatt and Percival had already run to Scalezard's side, less than impressed with the exposition.

"Yes, my father gifted me and Montgomery with it when I turned eighteen." Rudeth's voice seeped in privilege.

"Very good, that will come in useful. A Genetica, for those who are not familiar--" he looked directly at Wyatt with a small sense of gloating, "--is an artificial genetic enhancement of an Anima, granting them powers or abilities not found in wild Anima. They are typically bought by those trainers who have won enough to afford them, or won them as a prize."

Wyatt tended to what equated to a pretty bad sunburn on Scalezard, as the lecture went on. A few bits of Anima first aid knowledge he had from the farm came in handy, as he applied some topical medicine. He hoped a lizard-Anima would be little different from the farm-Anima at home.

This whole Anima Adventure was going to be a surprise for all of them, and a challenge. But as he knelt over Percival's Anima, he vowed to not let Requiem be a pawn in this, constantly taking the brunt of his mistakes. He would become a capable trainer, and ensure both of them made it back home in one piece.

"Thanks, Wyatt..." Percival meekly grunted, as he held his Terragon's head. The lizard-Anima flicked its tongue as the topical medicine seemed to do the trick.

"It's no issue... stupid that such a slimy trick is allowed at this stage."

"I read that a lot of richer kids get a huge head start on their Adventure."

"I'm not surprised... here, just let him rest."

"Wyatt! Clurk!" Doctor Caldwell watched as the boys huddled around the Terragon. "You both are up next with your Anima."

"Yes sir..." Wyatt looked to Requiem resolutely. He could feel the power and confidence in his Anima's mind. Victory was a certainty when Master and Anima felt such a confident resolve together.

The battle training would go on for much of the hot afternoon. Both Breeder and Anima would be put to the test in the explosive exchanges.

---

"Daycott!"

Wyatt shot up straight in his chair as he looked towards the front of the class. His five peers looked back at him in disbelief that he was daydreaming again. Each of them was far more enthralled in the knowledge they were privy to, far more than any other boy or girl setting out on this journey. They were getting some insider information about Anima training that was exclusive to the scientists at CABRI. And beyond that, this day was the lesson they all were most eagerly awaiting-- the ins and outs of breeding.

"Uh, yes, sir." He stood as straight as possible, Requiem's ear perking up as the footsteps of Doctor Caldwell got closer.

"You have to be the most inattentive student I've had here. Does it go over your thick head exactly what all this means, exactly what the gift that has been given to you?"

Caldwell had not taken a liking to him since he entered this session of the Breeder orientation. He was a suave, handsome, sharp, and Type-A personality that the simple farm boy Wyatt just did not mesh with. He seemed to have it out for the boy as well, and his simpleness. It was clear he did not believe he was cut out for the power he had come to wield.

"Well, sir, I feel like I have a pretty good grasp as to my job."

"Do you now? Gods... what have we entered into the gene pool."

Wyatt was not dumb as to miss that insult. But he neither was one to antagonize authority.

"Try and pay attention, Daycott, less you get out into the world and impregnate a Ramblet." Some of the boys laughed at the insinuation that the simple farm boy from Wicketsham would fuck a sheep-like Anima.

"Well, sir, I have a pretty good idea where to stick it if that means anything."

"That doesn't inspire me with confidence." He sat up at the table in front of the classroom and crossed his arms. "All right... today is the day you all, at least everyone but Daycott, have been excited for. Today, we talk about breeding. And I am not talking about Anima breeding, I am talking about breeding that cute girl you find on the trail, or the hot lady who calls you to her flat in the city. This is the bread and butter of your place here and what all of Corvusia is counting on you to do."

Not a sound could be heard from the six boys and their Anima, as they sat with bated breath, waiting to hear every detail. Wyatt even held some attention as the doctor with a slide of a few buttons turned on a holographic projection at the front of the class. There on the screen was the image of two girls, one older, probably in her late twenties, and the other younger, eighteen, about their age. They had bright smiles on their faces, Animas at their side, wearing the typical adventuring get-up. But as Doctor Caldwell clicked a few buttons, slowly their clothes began to fall away from their bodies, revealing inches of supple and nubile skin that enticed the young men.

"Good to see the vaccine hasn't worn off on you boys," he said, as he paused the animation just short of their jeans falling down their hips, the flap of their front unbuttoned and open to show off lace and white cotton panties respectively.

"These are your mission. While you are off on the same Anima Adventure that hundreds of eighteen-year-olds from all across Neo Corvusia are about to embark on, training your Anima, finding your inner strength, yadda... yadda... yadda... you have the additional pleasure of breeding these girls and more along the way."

"So, they will just throw themselves at us?" Another eager boy, a rather bullish and fluffy-looking kid named Clurk, licked his lips.

"Well... some."

Wyatt certainly knew that firsthand, but he would keep his encounter with Nurse Christi a secret for a bit longer. It was not his place to brag about the maternal desires of the nice nurse.

"But, it is a fact, that looking at statistics from last year, citizen requests for breeder services were sixty percent short of the yearly quota."

Coming from a farm producing all sorts of grain for the local markets, Wyatt knew all about quotas.

"Wait, there are requests?" Another boy picked up on an entirely different part of that statement.

"We'll get to that in a minute. But let me say this, you cannot rely on meeting your quotas via requests alone. Especially since requests geographically differ."

"So, what then?"

"Well, that is where you boys will have to be persuasive... in relative terms."

"Take these two girls, for example..." he pointed to the two half-dressed girls upon the hologram, "... each of them is eagerly stripping down for you, submitting to you. But what if it looked like this?"

The image of the eager and unzipped ladies changed to two terse, unfriendly, yet still cute faces. Both were fully clothed, with furrowed brows and not a single warm feeling about them. Behind them, large Anima, strong, ready to fight, and not all too eager to let their masters be bred.

"These girls, here, don't want what you are selling."

"So, we fight 'em?" Wyatt finally spoke up.

"Yes, there we go, Daycott, finally getting with the program. You, indeed, to get any further would have to battle their Anima. Sanctioned battles, per the rules of the Commission on Anima programs, dictate that the winner of an Anima battle is subject to payment from the defeated party, through monetary exchange or other means..."

"Other means." Wyatt, remembering what Christi had said, was uncomfortable with the idea.

"Don't like that, Daycott? Well let's look at the facts, shall we?" The aggressive-looking girls and their Anima soon disappeared from the screen and a bunch of numbers and graphs appeared. "Seven billion people in the world before the Great War and the Orange Flu. Over a hundred years later, just 230 million remain, and just 120 million of those in the green zone."

Looking over all the numbers and green and red lines that crisscrossed the screen, it didn't take a genius to understand how drastic things were and would be.

"Now... our only hope of sustaining humanity, and keeping the population's median age at a place where society can continue, is to use you breeders to your fullest potential." Caldwell, while a conceited ass, was serious, and right. There was no way the human way of life could continue without a very aggressive birth rate.

"Why go through all the trouble of the Anima Adventure then? Why not just keep all the ladies here with us for one big party?" Rudeth cackled, a few other boys joining. "Frankly, walking around the dirt paths for miles on end, training and battling, seems so droll."

It was the first time Wyatt had seen Caldwell look at Rudeth unfavorably; a stiff glare pointed at him, as the doctor walked to the rich boy's desk and hovered above it. Next to him, his flat-faced Pugnash drooled as it looked up at the looming doctor. Wyatt didn't care for the yappy thing, especially after it sun-beamed Percival's Terragon. Beyond the Genetica it had been given, it could hardly breathe out of its nostrils. He couldn't fathom why the scientists who created all these Anima would have even copied a real-world pug with how useless they were. Requiem, a full four times its size, would probably tear it to shreds in battle if no special tricks were involved.

"Mr. Rudeth... if we kept you here lying about, fucking pretty girls as you please, it wouldn't give you much incentive to grow now, would it?"

"I hardly think I need to grow." The snooty boy raised his nose.

"You hardly think, that's how I know you do." Caldwell looked bemused.

Rudeth seemed to take a moment before he realized the burn he was dealt.

"All of you young people need to grow, build your character, test your limits. Society needs its next generations to be built of tough stuff if we are ever to recover from the sins of the past. That means little tolerable sins to get there... got it, Daycott?"

"Got it..." Wyatt conceded.

"Think about the boys who cannot even breed, in Rudeth's version of society, how worthless would they be?"

Most shook their heads, understanding the point.

"But in our society, even they get to go on this adventure, to make something of themselves, to build a life. Some of them even helped raise you lot, I would imagine?"

Wyatt could recall one or two men in the small town he was from, who he had looked up to as a kid. Old Joe taught him everything about Anima on a bench in the middle of town, or Greggory down the street who took him under his wing after his mother died. Those impotent men were critical to his life, and society... by no means worthless.

The room went quiet with reflection for a time, each pondering the whole scheme that they would be living throughout their lives, and just what part they played in this society. A hand was soon raised, to break the deadlock in their session.

"Doctor... so we can only breed them if we beat them in an Anima battle, or if they ask?" Percival timidly inquired, note-taking pen in hand above the page of his harshly scribbled-in booklet.

A few other boys who thought the answer was obvious, chuckled.

"Sigh... no, anything is fair game, honestly. But equally so, they are allowed to fight back. Some girls get intense with their Anima training to prevent being bred. While it's perfectly legal for them to defend themselves, it is not legal for them to seek revenge. But..."

The screen flickered as a new slide was shown, headlines from all sorts of news outlets.

"BREEDER CASTRATED IN BROAD DAYLIGHT."

"MOTHER SEEKS REVENGE ON DAUGHTER'S BREEDER."

"MOB DRIVES BREEDER OUT OF SMALL TOWN VIOLENTLY."

"You all get the picture? A whole lot of people don't like what you are up to. Seventy percent of citizens polled saw the need to take drastic measures to increase the birth rate, but only forty-five percent approved of the unilateral methods breeders are granted."

Shifting in their seats at some of the more gruesome headlines, each of the boys came to terms with what welcome they may receive.

"It pays to be discreet sometimes, and others to be overt. While at the same time, you may not want to be known, you are also losing the chance that some prospective mothers don't seek you out."

"Isn't there like a feature on the SEEDEX for that?" Percival in his rather nasally tone, held up his blue SEEDEX, open on a screen that had a map with pins in it where women have entered their interest in breeding services.

"Let me see that." Doctor Caldwell walked up and looked closer. "Huh, well shit, these techies come up with something new every day. But this isn't the end all be all, don't rely on technology to get you there. Sometimes, just a bright smile and charm draws them in, even if they didn't know already."

Something told Wyatt this guy's ego was built all around his manly features and bright smile.

"So... any other questions...? I think we have covered the gloom and doom of it."

The screen then flipped to a much more pleasant sight. Five beautiful ladies, all shapes, sizes, and persuasions, naked on top of a soft white bed. Their smiles electrified the boys' minds, as they assumed all manner of lewd positions in the imagery. While Wyatt was secretly lucky his vitality had already been put to the test, the other boys had hardly seen a naked woman since their being cured of Orange Flu.