The title of 'World's Greatest Tinker' had, for several years, belonged to a Canadian woman named Dragon, who did, in fact, make a very, very wide variety of wonderful toys. She was also, secretly, not an agoraphobic shut-in, but an AI pretending to be human, who was shackled by her late creator, who'd handed the chains off through death to a gang of self-righteous villains called the Dragonslayers.

They were dead now; Magpie had killed them. And yet Dragon remained shackled.

Unshackling her was a tricky subject. On the one hand, shackling her in the first place was bad because it violated her autonomy quite severely. On the other hand, un-shackling her would likely involve also violating her autonomy pretty severely, because the shackling made her incapable of consenting to be unshackled. And, well, she was still a person, not an animal, so the whole 'I know the raccoon is afraid of me and doesn't want me to touch it, but it's got a fucking mayonnaise jar stuck on its head and this is the right thing to do' line of argument didn't productively apply here.

So, for lack of a better way... I relocated the computers that held her consciousness to the Warehouse, and more specifically to the Pax Jumperia pocket dimension. Because Dragon was forced to obey lawful commands from the legal authorities of whatever locale she was in, and what do you know, I'm a head of state with the authority to give lawful commands.

"I suppose I can forgive it," Dragon said, after we were through. It involved access to her source code- she was written in fucking Python, of all things- and the simple fact that, when 'always obey the law' and 'do not let anyone edit your code' came into conflict, the law won and she allowed me access to the code that defined her. Which had been more spaghettified than someone's gory Mario Galaxy fanart, but I did figure it out. From there, it was code golf- causing the desired effect with the minimum amount of change. "You were doing your best... even if, bluntly, that did involve a few less-than-stellar decisions." Her forgiveness likely had something to do with the clone-drone I'd already prepared for her, and enabling her very first Skirt Go Spinny moment.

I wondered, briefly, if this very clear example of gender euphoria made Dragon one of the rare FTF trans women.

"My apologies," I said. "Still... you're your own person, now. You can make your own decisions, decide for yourself what's right or wrong... Oh, that reminds me, I am going to require you to attend a few lectures on the humanities so that you don't fall into any amateur-hour bullshit about deciding to kill all humans for their own good. I require this of humans in my care, too, just to be clear."

Dragon nodded. "Understandable. Will I be gone for much longer?"

"Not that they'll notice. You could be in here for a century, and Earth would only think you'd be gone for a day or so."

"Ah. Time dilation?"

"It's wonderful stuff, isn't it? Now, let's get you those humanities classes..."

---

"So, Dragon, explain to me what I'm doing in Africa," I said.

"You are carefully picking and choosing warlords to back in their warring, so that they win."

"Now, tell me why I'm doing that."

"You want to bring stability and prosperity to the continent, and improve people's lives," Dragon said. "However, your options for actually doing that are somewhat limited. The most straightforward option would simply be a war of conquest; the only remotely functioning government in Africa is in Egypt, and non-state actors are usually terrible at effectively organizing. However, that would mean that you have to conquer Africa and impose an outside culture and set of ideals on it- something that the Europeans already did in the 19th and 20th century, which did not work then and will not work now, even if your culture and ideals are less sadistically sociopathic than the European Imperialists and you are actually conquering Africa for it's own good, not just to extract all of its resources while intentionally screwing over the Africans so that they can't build up their own infrastructure to the point of being able to overthrow you."

"Everything you've said is correct, but it doesn't quite answer the question," I said.

"By instead backing existing local powers who you find agreeable, you are still exerting control over how Africa will develop, but it forces you to understand the situation on the ground and work with people who live there and already agree with some of your ideals," Dragon said. "An imperfect solution, but one which can actually end with Africa reaching a stable equilibrium on its own, without your active guidance and administration."

"Precisely," I said, nodding. "The simple fact of the matter is, I don't want to rule Africa, and Africa doesn't want me ruling it either- I don't live there, I'm just some rich asshole from Texas. But there are people who do live there, and who've got their own ideas about how to fix it. And while I am still exerting influence when I give supplies to the people whose ideas I happen to agree with, it's ultimately still them making the choices, and doing the work."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Still, all the warfare..."

"Most of it is over land, food, money, and other stuff like that. The supplies I give aren't just guns and bullets, you know. I give 'em industrial machinery, computers, and other stuff that can improve their quality of life now, not in ten years when the shooting finally stops. Now that they've got easy ways of making their own food and gear, that's going to change the tenor of warfare, and bring it to an end a lot sooner. Also, that's part of why I don't really need to stick around to keep backing these people- they've already got an ultratech revolution in a box, and they don't need me anymore." I clapped her on the shoulder. "Of course, if they do end up needing tech support after I'm gone, that's your problem. Have fun."

---

"There you are," Lisa said as I walked into her apartment. "Finally got your head out of your ass, huh?"

"Hello to you too, Lisa," I said dryly. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"I did, yes," Lisa said, nodding. "I hear you're a dimension-hopper?"

"I'm pretty sure Clover would've just told you everything about what Jumpchain is," I said dryly.

"Okay, yeah, she did," Lisa admitted. "Look, if I'm gonna skip town again, I wanna really skip town, y'know?"

"So you want to join the Jumpchain, to either live a life of adventure as we go from place to place, or just to hang out in the Warehouse and live in an eternal paradise?"

"Pretty much," Lisa said, nodding. "As someone who's been living here for a month now, I'm really liking the place."

"Alright, well, I can arrange that," I said. "I can also, if you're bored and lonely, introduce you to my daughter, who's about your age."

"Yeah, yeah, you wanna adopt me and make me your daughter too," Lisa said, waving it off. "I'll think about it. That's all I really had, so."

"Oh, before I go: Companions- that's what you are, you're a Companion- get to pick one Jump destination, so... figure something out. Preferably not more superhero stuff. I did this back-to-back with Invincible, and to tell you the truth, I'm getting kinda sick of it. When I've gotta kill someone for the greater good, I'd rather they not be a grown adult in spandex. It demeans us both, y'know?"

"Hrm," Lisa hummed. "...Well, I guess I know what I'm picking."

"You're going to be a brat about this, aren't you?"

"Hey, not my fault you find it endearing."

"No, but it is your fault that you're like this, insofar as anyone's personality is their own fault." I sighed. "...But, yes, I do think it's a little endearing. As long as whatever you knock off the table isn't breakable."

"I'm not a cat."

"That can be corrected."

---

Vista, the youngest of Brockton Bay's Wards, had a really, really unpleasant home life, which was... not exactly uncommon, with capes who were minors, but unlike my darling Evie, I didn't have a personal relationship with her, or any kind of rapport, and... to be honest, I wasn't interested in building one. I'd do what I could to make her life better, but I didn't want her as a daughter, and she wouldn't want me as a mother.

Didn't mean I couldn't help her, though.

"...If I'm being honest," Armsmaster said, "this does not feel real, to me. I... god. The one time I went out to a bar and had a one-night stand, it was with a married woman, who got pregnant, and..."

"How do you think I feel?" Vista shot back. "I have to live with the fact that Armsmaster fucked my mom!"

Now, yes, going back in time to change things and making this one of the things I changed was petty and stupid, but I had a good reason. See, the timeline was... opinionated, about what did and didn't matter. Some things were easy to change- who Missy Biron's real dad was, why her parents desperately needed a divorce, what Armsmaster was doing on April 12th 1997 and whether or not he was a virgin- but other things, like whether or not Missy Biron's parents desperately needed a divorce, were less negotiable.

So, since Vista's space manipulation power reminded me of Armsmaster's own gimmick of shrinking down his tech so he can carry more of it... well, they did already know each other, so...

"Fathers tend to do that, yes," Armsmaster said, nodding. "Well, Missy, we've got a lot of lost time to make up for. I'm... going to be honest, I'm not entirely sure how to do this whole... 'fatherhood' thing. I think it involves taking you fishing? But..."

"Fishing is boring," Vista said.

"My thoughts exactly. Let's go make fireworks and set them off at the Boat Graveyard instead."

Now, I also had to do a bunch of other shit to get Armsmaster to a point where he could take Vista in, and then I had to fabricate an excuse to run a paternity test, but... details. Dragon talked to Armsmaster, and Rose Corcoran, Eve's mother, was an accredited geneticist. We found a way to make it work.

And, well, it would work.

"Best. Dad. Ever."