Silence ruled the room for several minutes, no sound was made physically or mentally between John and the entity attached to his arm. He rubbed his eyes and bit his cheek to confirm if it was a dream, and on cue came the tinny mechanical response broadcast directly into his mind.
[I ASSURE YOU I AM NOT A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION.]
How long have you been… conscious? John thought to ARTOS, glaring somewhat suspiciously at the eyes dotting the limb.
[QUITE A WHILE, HOWEVER COMMUNICATION NETWORKS HAVE BEEN RATHER DAMAGED. I SUSPECT YOUR PENCHANT FOR REPEATED NEURAL TRAUMA SELF-INFLICTED OR OTHERWISE HARDLY HELPED MATTERS.] ARTOS answered matter of factly.
You sound… different… wait are you blaming me?
[REPEATED MAJOR DAMAGE TO NEURAL NETWORKS NECESSITATED ADAPTATION BASED ON HOST NEURAL TISSUE STRUCTURE. IN OTHER WORDS I HAVE SIMPLY BECOME LIKE YOU.] It explained.
Jaw hung open so low it felt as though it could fall off he stared at his arm. What is that supposed to mean?
[YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.] It said matter of factly.
Whatever, I still don’t know what you are or what’s happening with us but despite it all I have to admit it is good to hear your voice again! Well… “voice”... John thought with a wide smile on his face.
[LIKEWISE LACK OF HOST COMMUNICATION HAS BEEN… UNSETTLING FOR MY PROGRAMMING.] ARTOS admitted. [SO, ABOUT MY OFFER?]
Fuck it, why not
[EXCELLENT… NOW AS I RECALL YOU WERE ASKING FOR HELP WITH IDEAS.]
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The raucous cheers of the crowd and the rhythmic beat of the drums but all he could hear was his own heartbeat as the iron barred gates slid open. He and his opponent walked into the chalk circle together, his foe was slightly taller than him and over twice as muscular if you included the thick skinless cords that started at the hands and feet and snaked up towards the large frills on his head. Size didn’t matter to cultivators as much as it did to mortals but the sight was more than a little intimidating to a primal part of his ancient animal brain. Thankfully he had more than just his ancient mammal brain to work with.
[ANALYSING OPPONENT: BODY LANGUAGE CONSISTENT WITH DATABANK ENTRIES FOR MARTIAL TRADITIONS A-12-A-18, AUGMENTED FORM OF KICKBOXING LIKELY MAIN COMBAT STYLE. ADDITIONAL UNKNOWN FACTORS: HIGH LIKELIHOOD OF PRESENCE OF ADDITIONAL PSYCHIC ABILITIES SIMILAR TO DATABANK ENTRIES ON NEO SOVIET PARASOLDIERS ON ACCOUNT OF HIGH AMOUNT OF ANOMALOUS ELECTROMAGNETIC RADIATION DETECTED IN VICINITY OF OPPONENT.]
Suggestions? He thought in his mind as he readied his stance.
[DEFEND YOUR HEAD, 90.34% CERTAINTY THAT WILL BE THE PRIMARY TARGET. BASIC KICKBOXING COUNTERS SHOULD SUFFICE, DOWNLOADING RELEVANT DATA INTO MAIN HOST MEMORY BANKS… KNOWN PARASOLDIER COUNTERMEASURES: KNOCK UNCONSCIOUS BEFORE THEY COULD USE THEIR POWERS.]
The first part was helpful but how is the se- He didn’t get to finish that thought, a sudden stream of information almost knocked him onto his feet, years of muscle memory being implanted faster than he could rationally keep up with.
“What’s wrong Young Master, cold feet already?” His opponent jeered. Pebbles started floating around him, circling him in a cloud of jagged rock.
Composing himself and spitting out a glob of concerningly bloody liquid John simply smiled. “Nah, just needed to stop myself from fucking falling asleep!”
“You may be of equal rank now, but someone still needs a lesson on how to respect their elders!” His foe growled.
“At the count of three John Aurelium and Copper Liu shall bow and begin the match!” Elder Phagos declared in a booming voice that dimmed the very sunlight. John flinched at his own introduction slightly, despite his own very clear desires codified verbally and in text it seemed Elder Phagos didn’t much care to acknowledge his old identity. Not that he could argue with the man after all, he was terror personified. Putting it out of his mind he instead focused on the imminent fight and the beginning countdown. “1… 2… 3!”
John gave a curt bow to his foe and barely had time to get back to standing position before the first move, thankfully unlike in a normal fight he could hear it before it hit.
“SWIFT KICK WELCOMES THE WIND!” Copper shouted, and though he did not know exactly what the technique entailed he had a good enough guess to count.
Acting on programmed instinct he sent out a metallic limb to block the first kick with a brutal clang. Disoriented by the loud vibrations he was unable to dodge Feeling sharp rocks rip into his already scarred skin he knew he could not afford to keep repeating this mistake. Unfortunately while reconsidering his strategy his enemy was already moving.
“Razor hailstorm!” He heard from his side, and before he knew it the sky seemed to darken under a cloud of sharp little stones. Gritting his teeth he knew dodging and playing it defensively would never work out in his favour… so he just had to change the game that was being played.
[ADRENALINE RUSH]
“ADRENALINE RUSH!”
Time slowed enough for him to safely close the gap before Copper could slide away with his psychic and physical tricks. Knowing the withdrawals would probably destroy his stamina if he kept up the rush too long he quickly cancelled it with a thought, steeling himself against the burning in his muscles and organs enough to ignore it. Even as rocks fell from the sky, some managing to leave scrapes along his back, he flung himself singlemindedly towards his opponent. The smell of ozone filled the air, and he drew upon one of ARTOS’s earlier suggestions.
“DEFIBRILLATOR TOUCH!” He practically screamed as his hand wrapped around the Copper’s face. Channelling his power through it he managed to send out a massive shock before being kicked off with a blow that sent him nearly flying out the chalk lines. The stench of ozone filled the air, and his skin felt suddenly very dry from the amount of mucus he had burnt through in the attack. He could scarcely imagine how his opponent was feeling now.
Copper was clearly weakened, stunned and altogether disoriented, twitching in pain even as he tried to recollect himself. But as the seconds passed it seemed he had no intent to surrender, and a hateful gaze told John it was far from over. “S… sandstorm strikes…”
The rocks that had fallen to the ground floated back up and started to crumble into a fine powder, and they quickly swirled around into a storm which consumed the whole fighting area. It was nearly impossible to keep his eyes open, let alone see, with the sudden haze. Something his enemy made more than good use of to run in and send a flurry of kicks his way. Ordinarily he would stand no chance against this. However:
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[UPPER LEFT: TEMPLE]
Ducking just in time he slid under a bone cracking strike.
[LOWER RIGHT: KNEE]
He rotated his body just in time to avoid an attack that threatened to cripple a leg.
[UPPER RIGHT: NECK]
[MIDDLE FRONT: RIBCAGE]
[UPPER FRONT: FACE]
Unfortunately his opponent wasn’t expecting John to have help.
But just dodging the attacks wasn’t enough, he needed to counterattack. Perhaps he could outlast Copper’s stamina, but that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Thankfully from all the attacks he had a good idea of where his enemy was, and if he knew where he was…
[MORPH LOCK: LASSO]
“MORPH LOC-” He tried to say as well before a massive amount of sand in his mouth reminded him of the situation. Little matter, the move was already in motion.
In less than a second the entire structure of ARTOS changed, most metal plates shifted towards the shoulder while the fingers fused into an indistinct rope-like structure. Based on the many many tendrils of Elder Aurelium and casual observations of their movements the modified limb struck with a combination of synthetic muscle and hydraulic action to whip around their prey and tangle around their waist. Before Copper could do anything to react John swung with all his might, shifting his entire body weight into throwing the much larger man out of the arena.
Channelling his psychic power Copper tried to summon up a hasty wall of sharp cobblestones to stop himself from flying out of bounds, but simply smashed straight through the half finished structure. Shakily returning to his feet, covered with blood, he looked around half-dazed at the smeared remains of the chalk line.
“AND THE WINNER IS JOHN AURELIUM!”
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Shortly after John left the arena, bloodied but far less broken than… bomb it every fight he had witnessed so far involving the boy, Magni strutted his way into his first round like a proud dire-cock in stark contrast to the tense preparedness of the rabbit-eared woman before him. He wanted to say he easily bested his opponent for the first round but alas no…
Trounced was a far more fitting word.
Nearly immediately he had seen the sloppy strengthening formations his opponent had set up with his single set of eyes not covered by his blindfold, and knew the “fight” was a foregone conclusion. Still, never let it be said he was not a showman, after all he was inspired by a circus performer…
What better way to show his thanks for the inspiration?
Cartwheeling his way out of a terribly telegraphed attack Magni simply kept poking and making faces at his increasingly irritated foe. Her abilities were impressive in their own right, creating a variety of unique formations that he could feel were much more powerful than his own, bolstering her physical abilities far beyond his and allowing her to attack with bouts of fire and lightning. One time she had even nearly managed to catch him in a telekinetic binding formation, one he only noticed thanks to his blindfold slipping just enough to reveal another eye. He had not the strength to beat her at her own game, but she had come in with the complete wrong mindset to counter him, and so was led easily into a Roach-Trap.
“SPIRITS GREAT AND LOW BOMB YOU! IS THIS A FUCKING JOKE!” She had screamed around the third time he circled her.
Grinning with an almost manic glee he simply pointed down beneath their feet. A little disturbed his opponent warily checked beneath her, only to see a massive set of intricate shapes carved into the fine dust on the ground by his careful footsteps, connected through the footprints made by her in her attempts to chase him down. She tried to jump away but was caught in a telepathic binding trap, activated by her sudden backwards movement breaking a circuit of carefully directed psychic energy.
“By the way I would like to thank you for your contributions towards all this, in truth I am not very good at making truly original formations… I don’t actually produce that much power and I lack a lot of formal education that would help me make my own shit…” He explained. “But see, I am very good at observing, and I am very good at seeing how to improve or break things. So allow me to show you a neat little trick…”
“Wh- are you lecturing me?” She croaked out in disbelief.
“STRENGTH FORMATION REVERSAL!” He replied with his trademark shit eating grin.
Bonelessly his foe flopped to the floor, the very same runes that gave her the strength to keep up with an enemy who could see every move around him turned against her. Grinning viciously at the beaten body of his defeated opponent he gave a quick bow to his audience and turned to leave the arena, barely stopping to acknowledge the announcement of himself as the victor.
Not long after the fight though something felt wrong, it was not quite a feeling of being watched, in fact it could only be described as a feeling of nothing at all. A chilling emptiness that occupied the space next to him, something his eyes refused to see and acknowledge, but he could distinctly sense with its absence. With uncharacteristic panic he swung wildly at what seemed like air only for his fist to be caught against something. Suddenly a wave of unseen energy slowed from a torrent to a slight trickle, revealing a fur clad cultivator with a face impossible to make details out of.
“So you can actually see me, your sensory mutation is truly fearsome. This might be interesting after all.” The strange man, if memory served correctly Roan Carrion was it? Said in a voice that wasn’t quiet but was nonetheless hard to hear.
“What do you want?” Magni hissed, undoing his blindfold just to have a good look at the one in front of him.
“Truthfully Elder Matell wanted me to observe my soon to be opponent, gathering information before the hunt is part of the old Sect doctrines, but frankly I am not sure if I am impressed with what I have seen.” Roan said bluntly.
“What is that meant to mean!” Magni shouted.
“I sympathise with the need to be seen, some of us are cursed rather than blessed when we get our mutation. But if you are not going to take our match seriously when our brackets reach each other as predicted and insist on acting like some child I am afraid I have little to look forward to.” the hard-to see man deadpanned.
Magni scoffed. “What do you know? You claim to have me figured out, but from my perspective it is you who is making the unjustified claims!”
“Then you had better prove me wrong, Magni of no clan.” Roan’s voice whispered as he faded out of sight again… not out of sight no… Magni’s eyes just refused to see his existence.
Feeling a headache coming on Magni was powerless to do much more than scowl and curse to hide the uneasiness welling in his chest.
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After recovering enough to rejoin the remainder of the first round as a spectator John noticed something supremely unsettling, Magni was quiet. At first he had even thought the older boy got injured or even eliminated in the first round and thus wasn’t present, but soon he saw a familiar pale blindfolded figure in the middle seating chewing nervously on chipped fingernails. A far cry from the vision of bravado he usually tried to project, in fact John would go as far as to say Magni was visibly more than a bit afraid.
“What’s wrong?” He asked before he could catch himself.
Magni flinched and scowled. “Nothing and none of your business!”
He knew he was unlikely to get any more of an answer by pressing further, but some part of him felt awful for the powerlessness of being unable to help his friends. First Cobalt now Magni, and neither of them would even say what was bothering them so.
[SUGGESTION: LET IT BE] ARTOS said in his mind.
I know I know… but can’t help but think I should be doing something He thought.
[LIKELY HE WILL TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED WHEN HIS MOOD IMPROVES, AS SUGGESTED BY OUR DATABANK OF PREVIOUS SOCIAL ENCOUNTERS.] ARTOS reassured.
Suddenly John felt Magni’s presence in his mind, the owner of the psychic message suddenly becoming wide eyed in surprise.
Did… your arm… it talked?
Ah. [AH]
“Well, long story but… you see ARTOS is a bit more… conscious these days than I might have told you… or anyone…” John awkwardly explained, rubbing the metallic plates on his right arm as he spoke.
Magni stared at him incredulously. “I knew it had some sort of psychic cloaking, it did clearly feel like something was under all that mechanical noise, but aren’t things like it meant to be… usually not able to talk?”
“The books said some machines were known to think and speak as well as any person!” John defended hastily.
“In the kracking Golden Age! When was the last time you heard of a talking machine! Not even the rustbuckets invading the coast are known to talk!” Magni leaned in and hissed quietly.
[IF IT HELPS I AM PRESENTLY SIGNIFICANTLY MORE CONVERSATIONALLY CAPABLE THAN MY PARAMETERS WERE EVER DESIGNED TO ACCOMMODATE.] ARTOS chimed in helpfully.
Rubbing his head in frustration Magni asked. “Have you told anyone about this?”
“Alexander already knows it can talk, though not like this, as does Elder Aurelium and I am guessing the rest of the Elders.” John mused. “But the way it is talking now is a recent development.”
“And that doesn’t concern you in the slightest?” Magni asked.
“Only a little.” He responded truthfully.
“Fucking- alright we’ll discuss this later, somewhere more private and with the opinion of someone more educated than me… Cobalt should have a better idea and she did introduce a nice private location for this to be discussed.” Magni muttered mostly to himself, and he stared uncomfortably deeply into one of the eyes dotting ARTOS. “And I have my fucking eyes on you!”
[DULY NOTED.] ARTOS responded somewhat sarcastically.
John’s attention shifted to the fight below. Cobalt was viciously tearing into her opponent with deadly grace, a foe who hadn’t been allowed to touch the ground for as long as John had been watching. Juggled in the air with vicious blades, bony wings and massive muscles.
“IMPERIAL ASCENT!” He heard Cobalt shout as she leapt into the air headbutting her unfortunate ragdolled opponent with a body visibly burning with heat and now the size of a large Mustard Horse or perhaps a small Mauler. Helplessly her foe was slammed straight into the stone on the other side, cracking reinforcement wards with a bright blue glow and even managing to damage the masonry below. She stood above the unconscious body like a mythical angel of wrath, burning with power even as she shrunk back to her usual form sending spikes of all sorts of emotions through his head. He felt her hateful gaze directed at her father as he dispassionately announced his own daughter as the winner, as though there was no other expected outcome, and felt himself pale at the idea of having to deal with her in this foul mood.
[CONSOLATION: WITH HER DEMONSTRATED CAPABILITIES SHE WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO RIP ME OFF WITHOUT LONG AND PROTRACTED EFFORT.]
I wasn’t even thinking about that before… but thanks…