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An Age of Mysterious Memories
B 6 C 121: Last Resorts

B 6 C 121: Last Resorts

Rattling my skull, I orient myself once again. It seems like I’m constantly disoriented today. Right, alright, let’s just work with Kinzul, and get my Honoris Causa under wraps. It shouldn’t be able to manifest at all without me announcing my titles any longer, and should only perform the expected basic effects when I manifest it that way. It does limit me from accessing any potential surprise powers that might give me the edge in a fight, but I’d rather not accidentally get a friend, ally, or family member killed by suddenly disorienting them, or knocking them for a loop, or unleashing some random deadly torrent of void or something beyond my control.

Holding my wife tenderly for a long moment, grateful that she’s been able to help me lock this side of me away, I sigh momentarily. Her help also prevents my Honoris Causa from causing any further disruptions to others, and prevents me from losing any of the dragonforce that I need to survive. This just never really seems real to me. My best friend is technically my son in law, sort of. I’m married to someone that could have been titled the king of all dragons, and whom I would still consider queen of all dragons, even despite her avoidance of such titles. My closest amorous loves include someone that might literally be a goddess from a Fakeworld pantheon, and someone whose future memories and personality ghosts have helped her shape the ultimate timeline. Everything about this life is insane.

That doesn’t even begin to cover my little dalliances with a supposedly unnoticeable Spymaster, the whammy that struck me with infatuation for her, or my dalliance with my wife’s daughter, whose recent rejection of me is possibly only temporary. Heck, nor does it cover my dalliance with the sweet, deviant little old lady that is my wife’s best friend. All of this, in the midst of a war against the far overwhelming majority of dragonkin and dragonkind across a planet that I wasn’t born on. Well, not that I was ever born to begin with. We haven’t even gotten to the other two apocalypses we have to deal with yet either!

Sighing, I chuckle at myself for the shortest of moments. Shaking my head, I try to let it all fall by the wayside, to focus on the present. I’ve got to find myself finishing various projects and plans. I have to further cultivate my own powers, and if I can, those of my loved ones, allies, family members, friends, and everyone around me. I have to make leaps that should take entire eras, in record time. Hah. Reggie Shellcracker, shortcutting time. Yeah, that sounds about right. Rolling my eyes and chuckling at myself while shaking my head further, I continue to feel incredulous at everything that happens to me, around me, or because of me.

It’s a few more hours til my myconid form emerges. Ixey and Lil are, ahem, having their fun, and I’ll be quite happy to leave their private bond as soon as the telepathic bond spell wears off from me, while remaining permanent between the two of them. Zayzi has wandered off somewhere. The Vivant and strategists-eight are actually working out actionable strategies for various scenarios in and out of battle for the upcoming engagements. I’d almost thought they might perhaps be too proud to listen to anyone’s advice or takes on matters. The Dormir are—.

I try to hide my smile, but I can’t help it as I feel Illy’s attempts to hide her subtle joy, at seeing her Dormies pulling through. They’re pulling together to work hard to find the advantages hidden within the shop system. The Dormir are pouring through the catalogues, and printing out various random inventories of people they know among the residents of Mount Solace. We’ve got a lot riding on all of us coming home healthy from tomorrow’s offensives, and Errissa returning actionable information on the new hole in the Worldstorm in Terrorzin’s domain. The more assets, and actionable plans we have in place to deal with possible necessary contingencies between now and then, the better.

I could not ask for a more talented, worthy crew of individuals to be facing the apocalypse with. Even Shaylon and Shiz are—. Well, they aren’t exactly flirting, but I think even Shiz gets a kick out of Shaylon’s accent. Revvy, Greggy, Shaylon, and Shiz, are planning for the trip that Aegis, the Quick, and the Dark are about to take towards the ‘Neath. I wish I could offer more concrete information as to what they might be facing, but they’re somewhat used to going in to battle uninformed. Two of them are amongst our stealthiest operators, our Quick and our Dark. If they find themselves in over their heads, relying on Aegis’s talent while they reorient, and possibly fall back, should allow them to come home safely. Please come home safely you guys.

Revvy, Greggy, and Shaylon are all on a psychic subnetwork, so none of them need to make sounds, or use their eyes or ears in the ‘Neath. That should prove fairly beneficial. What was it that Kinzul said early on? Her investment in my titling is already paying dividends? I can see that. Psychic networks on teams of combatants who synergize, allowing them even greater synergy, further instantaneous communication at long range across noisy battlefields or quiet stealthy segments of missions? Yeah, I’m glad I was able to provide that. I want all of these people to come home safely. Every last bit I can help towards making that a reality is, well, it’s just what I want.

Hm, these are coming along nicely. I can do some of the basic construction myself too. Let’s see. Wow, Sugar’s tools are so intuitive. No wonder their constructions always came together perfectly according to Spice’s designs. It’s still a bit weird to see things become magically fastened together without screws, nuts, bolts, or adhesives. I’m a bit worried that there might be a daily limit on the magical qualities in the tools, now that I’ve had more experience with magic on Rayileklia. I’d better be sparing with them until I know more, and I get the higher priority tasks done that require them.

Nala’s prototype looks fantastic. I wonder if I should even comment that they look kind of cool and stylish to me. I doubt Nala gives a rat’s rear end for aesthetics of the accessories she’s designing. Hm, she’s creating diagrams for a few things that—, oh, oh that’s really neat. I’ll get her some kit right away that lets her start on those. They’ll help her create more things more quickly. She really is an innately natural imbuer. She’s an artificer that can see the way that things should line up in order to provide the conduits for ambient mana, or reality to provide whatever spark or essence she desires certain things to have, at least to some degree. Wow, in the system I’m thinking of, she’d absolutely be as high of a tier as me and Teuila, essentially maxed out in level.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

It’s weird to think that she got this far, without ever having had access to the tools of her trade that would let her utilize or show off her skills. She’s been a librarian this entire time. How the hell do you hit level twenty by only reading books? Well, if anyone could do it, Nala could, and she did. Regardless, I purchase what I can from the shops, and rush to create some gear moulds. As I’ve got a number of the sorts of tools Nala will need to get started, I also rush to pour the moulds repeatedly producing an assortment of gears, screws, springs, cogs, wheels, nuts, bolts, and the like. I’m not even sure she notices me dropping stuff off by the basketfull.

Regardless, I continue dashing about to and fro, with Teuila occasionally waking. We tease each other while we work on her mindscape, and mine, repairing what we can. I’m burning my candle at both ends, but I won’t look this gift-horse in the mouth, of this manic energy that’s allowing me to rapidly approach and engage all these projects simultaneously. The few times I pass Leezahna, she actually seems worried as she spies me appearing to be some sort of crazed lunatic, dashing about with tools and weapons and crafting materials and projects and so on, with the love of my life strapped to my back.

Ah, Pawn, Prinny, and the rest of Prinrin’s children! I nearly melt with joy upon spying them. Before I can ask, Prinrin jokes, “Thought perhaps it easier to treat my darlings to lunch with that big pot of yours Schism sweetie. At least if that big heart of yours would allow it my dear. Also, according to my dear Miraina, our sweet Pawn, you could perhaps benefit from slowing down a touch, and maybe having another hand or two in things. What say you Schism sweetie, can me and the fam lend a hand while we all bond?”

I rather wish I had a bit more control over my impulses as I launch myself at Prinrin to pick her up and swirl her around. Muttering through a faceful of her bicep as she wraps her arms around my head, I chuckle and respond, “Of course you can you daft deviant little old lady. I love you to bits and the ends of the world and back. I just didn’t want to risk selfishly taking you away from this. I could tell how rarely you’d gotten to see them. Grr I’m so mad at you for you coming home so near death yesterday. Don’t ever do that again. Please. I know, I know, you’ll always do your best to save everyone else. Neither of us would really have it any other way. Just, just please always come home. Please. Erm, koff, right, yes, sorry.”

Setting Prinrin down, I blush heatedly as her children giggle, snicker, or sneer at me. Pawn actually elbows me and winks. Ugh, devious little deviants, all of them. I’m tempted to tease Pawn back, but I really don’t need the flack I might catch for that. Regardless of all that, I fill the pot for Prinrin and her children. I sense the sadness still lurking within her, this strident joy over the uniting with her children warring with the loss of her husband. Oh Prinny. I draw a shuddering breath and sigh slowly. I’m doing my best to make sure we have no losses, or as few losses as possible, between now and the end of this war. It’s—.

Echoing the thought I’d been about to have, Prinrin telepathically sends, “It’s not all on you, or up to you deary. Not everyone will come home every time. It will hurt, and you’re allowed to hurt. We’re allowed to hurt. There’s so much room in that big heart of yours, and you’re trying so hard to protect it, and the rest of us. A big a hero as he ever was deary, as ever he was indeed. Breathe Schism sweetie. You absolute dear, you utter cutie, you fantastic fu—.”

I cough, interrupting Prinrin’s telepathic message, flashing her a bit of a glare, though I can’t stay mad at her as she grins delightedly my way. Devious little old deviant. I wear half a smirk while blushing heatedly and shaking my head. Still, I help Prinrin serve herself and her children. Pawn finishes the quickest of all of them, of course she does, and thankfully the absolute sweetheart volunteers to help start setting up some of the things I need done around Solace. It’ll take her almost no time at all to start painting intersections with tunnel labels similar to street signs. That’ll let us start pairing up, and labeling enchanted mirror scrying sensors.

I really hope no one thinks that this is me trying to turn Solace into some sort of Orwellian tyrannical state. The sensors will be few and far between, mostly set up for near entrances, exits, main thoroughfare intersections, and near assets in need of protection. The only reporting I want done is if something happens like seeing a Damnation skulking about in human form, in which case, me, Te, Lu, Lil, or Lucky would speed to the location to drive them out or slay them. Everything else can likely be handled by our Queens and Pawn as they always already would have done. Let’s see, where are we with everything?

Hm, poor Nala is having difficulty carving micro-runes into gem-facets to enable the enchanting she’d like to do consistently. Thankfully the Crystal-Healing Wand lets her undo any mistakes. Like me, she’s essentially doing something until she gets it perfect by-rote. Pawn’s painting tunnel names or numbers, while hanging up certain mirrors that I already have enchanted, and I’m placing paired enchantment mirrors into the soundproof cases with audio jacks on this shelf. We’re coordinating to label the ones that are paired, but it’ll be obvious enough since they’ll overlook the hallway signs.

We’re resorting to using every last thing I can think of. I’m glad that that’s not the intended meaning of last resorts, at least, not in this context. Generally it’s not preparatory that one gets to call in their last resorts. It ends to be using up every last contingency. The Onyx Dawn have gone through dozens of the shop system’s personal-inventories, and similarly made dozens of purchases, though few have bore fruit. Born? Bored? Beared? Meh. Regardless, Nala’s gotten a few sets of goggle-frames completed, and I can produce the lenses myself. I’ll offer them in a few shades, ruby, sapphire, diamond, plain glass, and the like. Ixey and Lil are apparently, ahem, done celebrating their new bond. Lil looks entirely out of it. Ixey isn’t all that much more coherent either, and still shirtless.

I try to refrain from rolling my eyes or chuckling. I wonder if I should tease or congratulate Lil. They’ve never really gone as hard on teasing me as Lu or Te have. I just want Lil to be happy. Hm, my myconid form is about to engage. Whom, if anyone, should I ask to join into the hivemind to help finish up the projects for the day? I blush as I sense Prinrin’s mind and motives upon overhearing my thoughts. Dirty minded deviant little old lady. She of course cackles joyously at being called out telepathically.