This was not natural. Monsters stealing children from their beds. People shrugging off mortal wounds. Taking down game ten times your size. Running up and down walls and ceilings. Throwing rocks that turned into water. These things made sense, this was the world Zedong grew up in, he never batted an eyelash at any of these. But being five thousand feet in the air in a tin box, that was unnatural. Its not like there was a choice, there was no walking to Beacon. He could have climbed the cliff, it would have taken him longer granted, but it would be natural.

He made it a point to be the last one on, just so he could be the first one off, and that he did, collapsing on the first patch of grass he found. "I grew up playing with sticks. Why the heck would anyone need a flying box with a capacity of a couple hundred people," he asked aloud. The problem wasn't in his stomach, or his body for that fact, it was in his head. It was obvious that flying ships were safe, sturdy, and convenient, this he knew. Didn't change the fact that the man just didn't like it.

After a while he composed himself. Standing up he grabbed his spear with both hands in rested it behind his head, across his shoulders. This was the other reason he got on last, though the first one mattered most. Most people had weapons that collapsed, making them easier to carry. Zedong's weapon did no such thing, and standing at twelve feet tall, that says a lot. Had hit someone on accident? He hadn't noticed, was never good in confined spaces, but with a world so big, why would he have to.

Now himself again, he joined the other additions to Beacon in taking in the sights. The man had lived in the "civilized world" for two years before this and even now he still didn't quite understand it. Here was a place of learning. With experienced professors and staff, tomes of knowledge, boundaries, rules, training equipment, this place was made to help people advance their skills so they could dawn the title of Hunter or Huntress. In the past learning meant doing, hoping by the skin of your teeth that you did it in a way that you can try again. But this place would be different. If he made a mistake, no one would die, if he made a mistake, it was only a lesson learned. "Well," he said to no one, "kid gloves it is then."

Looking around not knowing where to go, he noticed a student who stood near him on the ship, a man in a brown coat with a great sword on his back. More importantly, he was holding a map. "Whoa, mate," he called out hoping to get the mans attention. "Nice map. Any idea where we are supposed to go? Name's Zedong by the way."