"Kill Him!" Titania Samson, CEO, badass granny, and four-star Archhuman ordered her butler.
Robert ducked into the liminal void the moment she shouted: "Kill". The doors were closed and he couldn't leave. It wouldn't be wise, either. Was this a test? It had to be. The woman must be insane to threaten his life with her very vulnerable descendants just there. Or was she banking on him not harming them?
He had no idea. The butler was already flexing his whole body in a violent burst of motion. Robert's only doubt was whether the butler was a two or three-star Arch. He was fucked. To hell with this corporate bullshit. He wished he was still home, writing his books.
Or wallowing in anxiety at his massive writer's block. Even thinking about that, with all the shit he lived through, was hard. Maybe dial that back a little. He moved forward a bit, to his recent but halcyon days with Mickey in the park. Anywhere but here.
He closed his eyes and went to his Ethercosm. He approached the shell holding the unique brain spirit.
"What is your power?" He asked. Binding a unique spirit or eidolon in a shell almost always granted a powerful ability.
"Domination," the avatar of Cerebelon replied. "Take control over an enemy's mind. Make them do your bidding."
"And what if the enemy is too strong?"
"They may shake off the will of Cerebelon but will still struggle to do so."
It would gain him time, then. These abilities had a singular drawback. They needed a name, and he needed to shout that name to use it.
"If I dominate someone, will they remember anything?" Robert asked, fearing what people would do with such a power.
"Only if you allow. You seem to mistake one thing. You do not take over control of their bodies. You take full control of their minds."
Maybe he should just not use it. He stared at the butler, features dimmed in the dark grayscale of the liminal void. No. He needed any edge he could get. If this meant messing with the brain of the butler, so be it.
Robert prepared himself. Mental and physically. He moved to the far corner of the office and waited. The colors washed back into the world in a flash. The butler changed directions on a dime and flashed toward him.
"Mind Blackout!" Robert shouted the name of his ability. He jumped to the side. Momentum carried the butler forward and the man crashed against the wall.
He could sense the connection between their minds as the butler struggled to recover control of his mind. The guy was strong. Pressure built up around him as the butler unleashed the power of his three stars. Robert put some distance, glancing at the Samson family. They were content watching him fight.
It was a test. Robert loathed to drag the butler to the liminal void. He had his share of creatures who could act and move in that dimension and he wasn't so keen on finding out whether a three-star Arch would freeze or not. It was better to keep his visits to the void to himself, to gain time and reposition himself.
The butler stood, his face distorted into a feral snarl.
"Mind Blackout!" Robert shouted, feeling his essence pool take a dive. The power was expensive. But this time, he felt his control click in place. Fighting back against the domination must've exhausted some of the butler's mental fortitude. That, and Robert was learning how to use his borrowed ability. But something changed and his control shattered instantly, stunning Robert.
"You little son of a—" The butler vanished from where he stood and reappeared next to Robert. He reappeared with a butter knife in hand. He stabbed Robert's arm and got dragged to the liminal void when Robert panicked.
"Kill me and you stay stuck here forever," Robert bluffed. He had no idea what would happen if he died.
The butler pulled the knife away, breaking physical contact. Time wisps flooded out of him.
Hesitating for a moment, he sighed in relief. The butler wasn't moving. Which meant his soul was being ripped apart by the void. If this was really a test, murdering Titania's battle butler would spell doom for him. Robert circled him and touched the small of his back.
"Don't move!" He said.
The butler spun. Robert let him and broke contact again, feeling a sharp pain as a crack sounded from inside him. His right arm was bent backward at the elbow, his forearm now had four bone pieces sprouting from the top, and a black hand mark was imprinted on his skin.
More Time wisps. He caught them all, no use leaving the things to waste. He used the extra essence to heal himself. Vitae infusion made the healing easier while his adapting healing hands pushed his bones, muscles, and skin back in place. Seething with anger, Robert left the butler there, taking the Time wisps his enemy was letting out to heal himself.
Again, he touched the butler on the back. "I can let you die by doing nothing at all. Surrender."
A blur and Robert flew a yard back, backhanded by the butler. His ribs creaked. Robert then slid across the polished office floor until he hit the wall. His shirt had a hole and a black fist mark, with the knuckles perfectly drawn marred his solar plexus.
More energy seeped out of the man, filtered by the void and spat out as Time wisps. Robert waited a few minutes, to see if the butler would get weaker or something. He tapped the man on the shoulder, saying "stop," and backing off again before he could hit him. Frozen, the butler leaked even more power. Robert healed himself with the extra energy.
"You will only hurt yourself," he said the next time he touched the butler. He dodged a jab, it was a feint, and a left hook sent him spinning. The right side of his chest caved in and, if he wasn't stunned by the pain, he'd hear air sizzle out of his wound.
More wisps. A lot of wisps. Robert took half an hour to heal himself, then grabbed the butler's sleeve.
"Give up. Is this a test from Mrs. Samson?"
"How are you draining my essence?" The butler asked instead of attacking.
Robert lowered his voice. "The Void devours all. Make your choice, I won't offer mercy another time. I was serious about what I said. Kill me, and you are stuck here for eternity. Passages don't open in here. The only way out is if I take you with me. Otherwise, we will keep with this little game, and I'll eventually take over your mind. Either way, you lose. Cooperation will see us both out of here alive."
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The man raised both hands. Robert moved to his back, keeping his index finger over the butler's spine. He tried to use prescience but it didn't work. It was the first attempt to use the spell in the liminal void and it surprised Robert.
He needed to test the synergy of his abilities. That was a problem for future Robert. Present-day Robert just wanted to sort this mess.
They returned. The butler walked forward, away from Robert. Stopping before the Samson matriarch, he bowed. "I am sorry, Titania. I lost miserably."
"What is your impression of the kid?"
"If we give him enough time to grow, he will be unstoppable. Each of his affinities is horrifying by themselves, not to mention the named ability he used. He can't be killed by surprise as he can predict the future. And if he's not surprised, his talent means he can dodge any attack. His growth is skewed, however. If he develops all four affinities to an acceptable level, he might become one of the strongest among the one-stars."
"What about his compatibility with the job of keeping my granddaughter alive?"
"He can take people into another dimension. There, he has absolute control over time and space. And he can drain their energy," the butler closed his eyes. "Not just essence. My star shrunk by five percent, ma'am."
The matriarch's answer was a minute of shocked silence. Jeremiah was staring to and fro between Robert and Amanda. The Nature Arch was defending against her father with the forbidden technique, puppy eyes.
"You can drain people's souls?" Titania's question was half an accusation. Her gaze bore a hole into Robert's forehead. Perhaps she was considering finishing him for good because he'd become too dangerous if left alone.
But he couldn't back down now. They wanted to test him, right? He felt his pride mix with anger, forming a dangerous concoction. Inebriated by his overflowing emotions, he replied.
"I never got feedback from anyone I killed before, ma'am," Robert asked with measured amounts of sass and cheek. "Talking with the dead is not among my many capabilities."
"You did well, Gerome," she said. "Take a week off, use the gathering chambers across the arcology as you see fit, recover from this ordeal, and tell me if there are any long-lasting consequences."
"Thank you, ma'am. By your leave."
"Just go." She said softly. Robert could swear she sounded like a real grandmother for the first time in this long meeting. After the butler left through a side door, she stood and approached Amanda. "He is a good asset. Take good care of him."
The old woman sounded tired. She glanced at Jeremiah. "See if he can lift his resignation. Offer him to double his wages and more privileges. Make him Amanda's assistant, full-time. He should go with her to the academy and learn something while he does his job. You can give him a bonus for saving her in that passage."
"Of course, granny," Jeremiah replied with a bow.
The CEO spun and met his gaze. "Mr. Blaze, I see you are itching to use that fancy-named ability of yours on me. If you want to give it a shot, go ahead. it's on the house. You might not like what you see, though."
"I'll pass," Robert said with his best poker face. His best was not that good. He lost in poker more often than not.
"A wise choice. You hate me, don't you?"
"I barely know you," Robert's eyes dropped into slits.
"I believe it's your wish to keep things like that."
"Do you know the legend of Icarus?" He asked in lieu of an answer.
"I do. A wise cautionary tale. Now, will you continue with your job? Will you keep my granddaughter safe?"
"Now that you know what I can do, I want an honest pay offer from you."
"You are not as hot an asset as you believe, Mr. Blaze. Your powers might be strong, but you are not. Gerome was playing with you. You know that, don't you?"
Robert rubbed his right-side ribs. Yes, he knew that. Titania broke the momentary silence.
"As an apology, I will reward you with a piece of wisdom you will thank me for even a century from now. Your talent is too powerful. Ridiculously so, I might say. This does not come without severe drawbacks. Here it goes. Delay your ascension to two stars as long as you can. If you don't, your powerful talent will lose its edge against others who need less aura to fully develop. Rush and you will stunt your future. For someone who will live for tens of thousands of years, it will become a curse."
She coughed, then grinned. "I can see your age. It increases by more than it should every time you use your talent. You are all dismissed. These old bones had more excitement in the last few minutes than in the last two years. Shoo. Go."
They walked to the exit. As Jeremiah touched the door, the old woman shouted.
"I expect some great-great-grandchildren soon!"
*
*
A couple of days later, at the ATA
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The VP of sales was fuming. Nobody in that room was happy and the feedback loops were only making things worse.
“Do you know why we called you here today?”
The trader knew. He could talk about the sunk cost fallacy and asymmetrical knowledge and how hindsight was 20/20 all day. It wouldn’t matter.
The fact was, someone up high on the totem pole figured out they could profit more from some items, and then asked their subordinates, “Whose fault is it that all that money isn’t mine?”
The subordinates, eager to keep their jobs, rushed to find someone to throw under the bus. To everyone concerned, it was as if he had stolen all that money.
He kept his silence.
“I can’t believe you were this incompetent when evaluating the Prime vestiges we trusted you to sell for the best price possible!” The VP roared.
He did. But some Prime vestiges were so cryptic with their description of the talents they grant that it was literally impossible to tell if it was a good or a bad one.
The VP slammed a folder on the meeting table. On top of it was the actual profit he made and the projected profit the analysts projected now that they knew what the talent was. Never mind it was too late now as talents were all unique and it was impossible to remove a Prime vestige from a person's soul. But the fact the estimated value was five times the profit he earned was so offensive he wanted to go on a rampage.
“One percent wife-steal. The guy went after married women all around the country, and now has a battle harem of absolutely loyal babes.”
They showed pictures of the guy and his battle harem. The trader became instantly envious.
Another folder struck the table like a nail in the trader's coffin. Another heinous estimate, seven times his profit.
"One percent knife-steal!" The VP shouted, frothing at the corners of his mouth. "She became a blade master! Ultimate mastery! Summoning all kinds of bladed weapons that are improved by her Metal affinity!"
Another folder appeared with a pop. People were out to fuck him. Fifteen times? Fuck it.
"One percent life reel!"
He couldn't resist "What about that? How can a celluloid film talent be this valuable?"
The guy can drag enemies into the film to reenact the scene! He can assign roles! And the outcome is determined by the film! The guy has several fights recorded, he just puts monsters in the roles of what he defeated and wins a hundred percent of the time! He's basically invincible!"
Another folder. The estimate had two zeroes added. To the left of the comma.
"One percent in real life! It is outrageous how badly you undersold this one! The Samson matriarch came here in person to laugh in our face!"
"What did we get wrong?"
"Rhe talent doesn't cut his lifespan by one hundredth. It multiplies it by one hundred!"
"Longevity non-combat talents aren't that valuable."
"The guy defeated a deviant less than two weeks after ascending!"
"It wasn't a strong deviant."
"The deviant killed eleven delvers before it was put down."
"These eleven delvers must have severely wounded the deviant before the guy fought it."
"He defeated twenty-four elite Samson Security personnel, a handful of them two-stars!"
"The Samson staged the fight or fabricated the results to make us look bad."
"He was sucked by the passage on the eighteenth, the one who killed a squad of elite explorers one minute after they entered, and came out unscathed!" The VP roared.
The trader stood up. "This is all a setup. If you guys want to fuck me, just ask me to bend over. To hell with you. I quit."
The trader stopped. He looked at the table and noticed no more folders ready to be smeared on his face.
"What about the one percent lifesteal?"
The VP smiled. "No. That one was a dud. The guy even drew Morleppe's attention because of the passage he discovered, but died in a ditch somewhere. His talent sucked. Can you imagine? To heal a single bruise he would have to bruise someone a hundred times. Not to mention he drew the ire of the Kraven patriarch. Can you imagine a scenario where a random nobody defeats Janhalar?"
*
*
Meanwhile, in the Kraven Faralethal medical facility.
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The office door slammed against the wall as it suddenly opened.
"Dr. Thompson, patient Peter Vane is having a fit of sneezes. We think he has some unknown allergy. His ears are also very red."
Dr. Thompson stood from his desk in a hurry. "He's suffering from an acute attack of Slander Behind the Back. We need to administer a cocktail of three CCs of confidence aconitum extract, five thousand UI of vitamin "F", and three thousand UI of vitamin "It".