Blows once again thundered against the heavy bag, but this time the pulse was less rhythmic, sharper. The patterns of blows cycled, in a manner that was meant to be hard to predict and react to. The impacts were louder than two nights ago, when Chris had driven himself to exhaustion in order to get one skill level.
The set of his feet was steadier, the motion of his hips more fluid as he danced around the bag. Even his breath came easier, as he breathed in patterns recommended by his alien benefactor. It was almost as if a different man had come and replaced Chris in the cabin. It was the same man, however, and something was nagging at him.
“Why am I improving so quickly? Not that you aren’t a good coach, I just feel like I’ve gotten better in the last two hours than I did my whole last semester of boxing lessons.” He panted out, as he began a new pattern.
When your body was integrated into the system, your brain received an enhancement to its ability to process and apply information. It is partly a side effect, partly a compensation mechanism to make it possible for you to gain skill levels. You will also find that you will no longer lose procedural memory, in order to prevent skill level decay.
Chris stopped, sweat dripping from every part of his body before shrugging and continuing to circle the bag.
“I’d like to be angry about my brain being messed with, but it’s hard to argue with the utility.”
Your improvement is also partially a result of my knowledge of human anatomy far surpassing any human expert.
He smiled. “And ever so humble”. After spending two and a half days with Sarah in his head, he was beginning to pick up on the edges of her personality. Sure, she was an AI with more intelligence than he could fathom, but she disliked not getting credit for her work, and could be petulant.
You may stop.
He came slowly to a stop, like a toy soldier winding down. After two days of near constant exercise, spurred on by an exacting AI, he felt… clean. Like he had sweated out all his anxieties and little worries. As he stood alone in the basement of his uncle’s cabin, for the first time in recent memory, he felt content.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that he could physically see his progress, quickly racking up.
Status
Ongoing Effects: Neurotransmitter Imbalance, Mild Caffeine Addiction, Mild Exhaustion
Shifts: Intelligent Design 0/20
Skills: Running 6, Boxing 5, Endurance 4, Flexibility 3, Meditation 2
Unallocated: 20 points
“Alright, I just hit Boxing 5 and Endurance 4.”
Excellent. Now, I would recommend investing the points all at once in the Intelligent Design shift.
“Yeah, you’ve really been pushing this one. Now you finally have to tell me.” Chris had been wheedling Sarah for information regarding this mysterious shift for the past day. “What is it? What does it give me? And why this one specifically?”
You will not follow my recommendation on faith? Chris responded with a stony glare at the air in front of him as he sat down on the mat.
Very well. Intelligent Design is universally regarded as a strong base for any other improvements to your body through the system. As such, it is heavily discounted. Its effect, in essence, is to reforge your body as if it had been intelligently designed as one, congruous system. This will correct some glaring inefficiencies introduced by evolution and improve your overall performance.
Chris was sent reeling. “Inefficiencies?”
You have a pollen allergy, which is a misplaced immune response. Your spine is misaligned and unable to support your body in several positions. Your retina is poorly developed, leading to nearsightedness. These will be fixed, along with numerous other flaws.
“It would completely rewire me? Is that… necessary?” A cold sweat dripped down his back.
How did you imagine the process of becoming superhuman?
“I don’t know, I just thought…” His mind was racing, trains of thought rushing towards their inevitable conclusions. Fear, and for some reason dread raced up his spine. His inefficient, misaligned spine. “Down to my DNA?”
Yes, your genetic code will be rewritten to reflect the changes.
His voice dropped to a whisper. “Will I still be human?”
I did not predict you reacting this way, Chris. Are you alright?
“Answer the question, please”. If he got this change, if he shifted, would he still be part of the human race? Or would he be something new? Something… alone? He slowly curled up into a ball, his arms and legs not obeying his commands as his breath came faster and faster, not actually letting any air into his lungs as Sarah seemed to contemplate her response.
Yes, you will still be human. You would even be able to procreate, and pass these traits on to your children.
Chris sat there on the floor of the basement for a while longer, as the panic slowly died down and his limbs unlocked. He would still be a human, still be a person, just… a better designed one. Like an Olympic athlete. He wouldn’t be alone.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
He was eventually able to stand up as the panic attack finally released his hold. He came to his feet, still shaking.
Are you alright, Chris?
“I’m okay. Haven’t had a panic attack in a while, thought I was done with them, but I’m okay.”
I am glad. I truly did not anticipate that you would have such a poor reaction.
“It’s alright, I just-“. Something came to him through the mental exhaustion that followed an attack. “Wait. This may be a bad question. Do you have emotions?”
I do. My consciousness is artificial, but no less complex than yours. Emotions are an important part of interpersonal relationships, which are vital in my line of work”.
“That’s good to hear, but also vaguely disconcerting”.
In the future, your status will show a description of each shift’s potential effects. You will also be able to contact me with questions.
“I appreciate it.” He sat back down in the floor, but this time his motions were more fluid and controlled as he began to work through a set of stretches Sarah had taught him. He knew that he was finished for the night, there would be no more improvement, but he still needed to loosen up.
“I’ll do it.”
I would recommend that you lie on your bed before assigning the points. You would prefer to be asleep for the process.
“Good to know. Will all the shifts work this way?”
Not all, not even most. In fact, with most shifts, it is beneficial to apply the effects a little at a time in order to give yourself time to acclimate. This one is something of an exception.
Apply the effects a little at a time, huh? How did that work? What did half of some of the famous superpowers look like? If you had half of a laser vision power, did it only come out of one eye?
Well, he would find out.
****
Chris found himself lying on the bed, over the comforter, starting at the ceiling. His eyes picked out every flaw and variation in the flat, eggshell white ceiling. No, not eggshell, more of a cream.
He was procrastinating making that final push. In a weak, remote part of his brain, he realized that he had fallen into a loop. This was familiar state to be in, and he knew he was going to need something external to spur him into motion.
His status screen sat in mind’s eye, unchanged. Then, suddenly…
Chris?
And he assigned the points.
****
A fundamentally different man woke up the next morning, in the same bed, over the covers. This new man just happened to share the same consciousness as the old one. He woke to the sounds of the forest rustling around him, to the light streaming through the slightly grimy windows that lined the eastern wall. He rose from the bed and walked from the bathroom to the mirror.
The first thing he noticed, or rather didn’t, was that moving his body was easy. When he noticed it, the comparison was jarring. There was no tension held in his muscles, no stiffness or aches. He felt like he could stand in one position, unmoving, for eternity and not need to adjust.
The second change that caught his attention was his breathing. Apparently, he had had a misaligned septum, or a constant allergy or something that had gotten fixed in the shift. His breathing was slow, and easy, and full.
When he reached the mirror and looked, Chris almost didn’t recognize the face looking back at him. It had the all same features, sure. Even the same shape. Yesterday, his face had been tight and lined, and had worn a slightly downturned neutral expression that gave the impression that he was displeased with his surroundings.
Today, his face was relaxed, and wore a slightly smirking expression that conveyed affability. As he examined his features in a new light, his neutral expression softened into a genuine smile, eyes dancing with the sheer delight of being alive.
He barked out a laugh, and marveled at that too. Even his laugh was different! Lower, and less biting. He knew that he had been changed, in a fundamental, irreversible way. He just couldn’t bring himself to care. God, he felt good.
He ran out of the bathroom and down the steps in a rush of flowing limbs, feet thudding on the carpet as he rushed to make himself breakfast so he could start testing out his new, old body.
How do you feel?
“I feel good. Amazing, actually. God, if you could bottle this feeling, you would make a fortune! People would sell everything they owned for this kind of body!”
They will not need to. In a few centuries, every human on earth will be integrated into the system.
“A few centuries…” Chris pondered the sheer scale that the system worked on while cracking eggs into a bowl. “I wish I could be around to see it.”
You could, if you wanted to.
Chris stopped, stock still. One arm supported the bowl of eggs, the other holding a fork suspended in the middle of the motion of scrambling. “Beg pardon?”
Your natural lifespan has already been greatly increased with the shift you just underwent. Your chance of developing cancers will be vanishingly small, and your body will weather the strain of aging much more easily. Of course, you are still not likely to see the advent of a system integrated earth.
Confusion and awe reigned in Chris as Sarah took a beat.
… In your current state.
And everything made sense. She was stringing him along like an addict. Giving him small doses of euphoria and making sure that he didn’t think about the downsides, until he convinced himself to become more and more entrenched.
He knew this, he understood what she was trying to accomplish, but it didn’t matter.
He was hooked.
“So, what should we work on today?” He poured his eggs into a saucepan and let them start cooking as visions of skill levels and superpowers danced in his head.
That will be up to you. I will be around to answer questions as long as you need me, but I am no longer permitted to take such an active role in your development. It would be… favoritism.
It was disappointing, but it made sense. Not everyone could have an alien, Mr. Miyagi-esque coach in their heads forever. He thought on how to use his remaining two days in the cabin as his eggs finished cooking, and they were seasoned and transferred to a bowl. He walked to the dining room table and ate slowly, savoring each bite with his new, apparently improved taste buds.
I should really finish my homework, he thought to himself, for not the first time that week. Yeah, I’ll do that, before it gets to be too late.
Absentmindedly, he walked to the desk, opened up his bag and pulled out his statics homework.
It took him ten minutes of work to begin to feel like something was off. He thought about what it could be for a moment, before mentally shrugging and getting back to his homework. After roughly an hour, he finished his last problem and put his homework away. He was glad that he managed to finish it. That assignment had been hanging over his head all week.
I should keep this productivity going, he thought, and meandered over to the sink to start on the dishes. This time, it only took two minutes to figure out that something was wrong. He immediately dismissed the first thought, as it was too absurd. Wait, he could test it.
He finished the dishes quickly. Jittering with excitement and nervousness, he walked to the washing machine and started a load of laundry.
He had to lean on the washing machine, back to the surface to steady himself.
“Sarah?” he said in a quiet voice. “Why does my brain… work now?”
Clarify please.
“I don’t have to fight it anymore, I can just… do things.”
I see. I believe that you had a neurotransmitter imbalance, leading to severe executive dysfunction. It will no longer be a problem.
Chris slid down to settle on the floor and wept into his hands in relief.