Backlebutt didn’t come back.

It had been hours, and Milo figured the man had either ditched him or, more likely, gotten ambushed while scouting somewhere ahead in the tunnel and presumably gotten himself killed. That really didn’t bode well for Milo, considering the disparity in their respective amount of combat experience.

Milo felt a little guilty for not feeling more bad about Backlebutt’s probable death, framing it only in the context of its impact on his own survival. To be fair, he didn’t know the guy that well, but still. Shouldn’t he feel a sense of loss and sadness or something?

Maybe it’ll happen when his death is confirmed. Or maybe I’m just a sociopath.

He’d read something online once about a scientist who was testing people for sociopathy and had inadvertently discovered that he himself had the trait. Do sociopaths worry about what other people think of them, though? I think I have too much social anxiety to be a sociopath. Although, he did remember watching the show Dexter and feeling a strong connection to the psychopathic title character...

Shut up brain. It was honestly way more likely he was a hypochondriac than a sociopath. He forcibly dismissed his worries.

Other than stressing needlessly over his mental health, he’d spent his time waiting for Backlebutt periodically working on his coordination with Pause for Thought. That was how he knew it had been hours, actually; he spent one mana every eight minutes, which translated, as of his most recent expenditure, to two hours and forty-eight minutes.

He was getting pretty good with the skill now. He’d learned some things. He’d discovered he could actually push his muscles a little harder with the skill on than when not using it...maybe something to do with his brain sending instructions to his muscles faster?

He’d confirmed this little quirk when he’d done single-leg hip thrusts to the point of exhaustion—a pitifully low number in his new, weakened form—and then activated the skill. The following rep had taken a great deal of effort, but he’d still managed it, whereas his previous attempt only a moment prior had seen him struggling in futility against the pull of gravity, his body glued to the ground.

His proudest moment with the skill was when he successfully activated it while juggling and avoided dropping any rocks during both the transfer into slow motion and the transfer back out. He’d involuntarily begun letting out a cry of triumph before catching himself, popping his head up over the barrier frequently over the next several minutes to verify that his outburst hadn’t drawn any unwanted visitors.

Strangely, there had been none during the entire time he’d been waiting. The first enemy he’d encountered had seemed to be roaming the tunnels, but perhaps that wasn’t actually the case? Maybe it was just patrolling a small area, and he and Backlebutt had cleared the space entirely of any monsters.

It was a nice thought, but Milo wasn’t relying on that being the case.

He hadn’t done any more experimenting with Skim; it was annoyingly intermittent in its effectiveness, which meant that he honestly should spend some time sussing out the exact rules that governed it, but he felt that his time was better spent practicing with Pause For Thought for the time being.

That still left a lot of time just waiting around for his mana to replenish, so he’d also spent some more time thinking about the Fetch Book skill.

It...really wasn’t a great option.

However. He thought he might have come up with a good plan to get the most out of it.

First, he would wrap the book tightly in his two thickest exercise bands, keeping the book closed and also protected from the worst of impacts courtesy of the resulting rubber bumper guard.

Then, during combat, he would get his enemy between himself and the book before summoning it to him. Presumably, this would catch his enemy unawares, knocking it forward into Milo. Regardless of whether the book itself did very much damage, Milo would be waiting with a rock in hand to deal a crushing blow to his off-balance opponent, caveman style.

It had a chance. Maybe.

What else could he do?

With one last glance over the side of his rock wall that yielded no sign of Backlebutt, Milo finally bit the bullet and selected the skill for one of his two open slots. Even if it sucks I still have a backup slot. Not the end of the world.

Not ready to try the skill out just yet, Milo first did a check of the skill’s modifiers. When he did, his eyes widened. Wow, okay. Not bad.

-

Fetch Book:

-You may manipulate targeted books freely in space while skill is active. 1 modifier point.

-Skill lasts an additional 10 seconds per mana spent. 1 modifier point.

-Targeting more than one book will no longer count against skill duration. 1 modifier point.

-

Moving the book around any way he pleased would make it infinitely more versatile in combat, and doubling the mana efficiency wouldn't hurt either.  First, though, he needed to verify that the “variable speed” mentioned in the skill description made investing the modifier points worth it. If the maximum speed the book could go was useless in combat, he could cut his losses with just the temporary sacrifice of a skill slot—still making the obvious assumption that he could replace skills in the future.

Milo checked to make sure the tunnel was clear, then stepped out of his little enclosure with his book in hand. It was wrapped tightly with exercise bands, as he’d already been experimenting with that part of his plan.

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He set the book a little ways away from him, then activated his skill for the first time.

Even though he was expecting it, it was still a bit startling to see the book magically lift from the ground and drift into his waiting hand, starting at what felt like the default speed before Milo willed it to go a little faster. Shifting the speed was as easy as thought.

So cool.

He couldn’t help but smile. I have telekinetic powers. This is amazing. He was suddenly reminded of his experience trying to levitate the pen in the forest. How far he’d come.

He still had some time left on the skill, so it was time for test number two. The real test. How fast could he draw the book toward himself? Setting the book on the ground and rapidly backing away, Milo concentrated on pulling the book toward himself as hard as he possibly could.

!!

Milo ducked to the side and instinctually released his mental grip as the book came hurtling his way with shocking speed. He looked behind him to see the book’s inertia carrying it far down the tunnel, sailing through the air. Thinking quickly, he grasped the book with his mind once more to reverse its momentum and draw it back toward himself.

Midway, his skill’s duration ended and the book dropped to the floor with a thud, bouncing a bit but appearing to be pretty much undamaged.

Oh. My. God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...!

Nearly laughing with pure relief, Milo immediately went back into his skill menu and chose the first skill modifier option with no hesitation. He’d probably want to take the second one too. In fact...what the hell, why not? He spent two modifier points, giddily grabbing the first two modifiers for the skill in a fit of happiness-induced spontaneity. Finally, something is going right.

Milo excitedly sought out his book lying on the tunnel floor. Activating his new (and now improved) skill, he grasped the book with his mind. It casually floated into the air. Just like that. Just because Milo willed it.

Hell. Freaking. Yes.

Unable to contain his euphoria, Milo giggled like a little kid as he manipulated the book in space, making it fly up to the ceiling, back down, twirl, flip…he even experimentally tried to open the book. He saw it struggle against the bonds holding it tightly shut, but he stopped pushing when he saw the cover bending against the pressure. The bands were tough, wrapped tightly as many times around as Milo could manage.

Much too soon, his twenty seconds were up, and the book, hovering high in the tunnel at that moment, began to plummet.

Not so fast! Grinning, Milo spent another mana and plucked it once more out of the air, easy as anything. This is amazing.

Alright, I shouldn’t be wasting mana like this. Time to do some real testing. Book cannon, go!

Milo shot the book down the tunnel, concentrating on giving it as much speed as he possibly could. It didn’t disappoint.

The book accelerated as if he’d thrown it with all his strength and then some—and then kept accelerating at the same rate until he consciously pulled back. It was halfway down to the bend in the tunnel in a split second, causing Milo to sweat as he desperately hauled on it with his mind, barely preventing a potentially disastrous collision with the distant wall. 

I really need to stop being so reckless. This is why I don't have a mana stone anymore. But talk about variable speed…

He had actually been forced to swerve the book around the bend in the tunnel and out of sight before he completely reversed its momentum, but then was able to successfully guide it back toward himself, which answered a second question he’d had regarding line of sight.

Staring at the book in wonder, Milo’s mind couldn’t help but boggle at the sudden reversal in his fortune.

With this...I’ve just gone from barely scraping by to, like, OP status. I mean, I’m not going to defeat Goku with it or anything, but at lower levels this is totally broken.

...so how could he break it even more?

Milo was down to seven mana, having just recovered to full before he’d chosen his new skill. He was willing to go down to as low as five, but he really didn’t want to be caught with a low mana pool if enemies showed up. What do I want to test with my two mana?

After taking time to consider, Milo found he was curious about what the actual limits were for speed and acceleration. The book could go blazingly fast, but why? What were the rules? For what possible reason would a scholar need to have the ability to fling books around like guided rockets? Who or what had even designed this skill?

I’m asking too many questions at once. What’s one thing I can learn?

Musing, Milo thought of a test he could do, but it was a bit basic. And he needed more things than just the one test, because otherwise he was going to waste something like eighteen seconds of the skill’s duration.

A scant few minutes later, he had a short mental list of tests to do and had made all necessary preparations.

Now, placing and holding the book against the tunnel wall with his hand, he activated the skill.

Letting go of the book with his hand and grinning once more at the incredible feeling of being able to hold an object with his freaking mind, Milo pushed the book straight at the wall. Nothing really happened, other than the book bending and warping slightly as it pressed against the uneven surface.

As expected, Milo thought. This was simply a test to see if there were limits to the power propelling the book through space. Since it had failed to plow a hole through the tunnel wall from a dead stop, there clearly was a limit. He’d already sort of tested this by trying and failing to open the bound book, but maybe there was a difference between opening power and propulsive power.  Milo was a fan of being thorough.

Test number two. Milo moved the book to lay flat on the ground before rolling a flat-sided, watermelon-sized boulder on top of it. Then, he commanded the book to float. Surprising him, it did so. No problem. He shifted the book around, tilting it minutely this way and that to get a feel for how stably the rock was perched atop it.

Finding it to be relatively secure, Milo concentrated on driving the book hard up to the ceiling, still carrying its load. Up it went...although markedly slower than when he had shot the book across the tunnel. Still, it wasn’t slow given the size of its load, and it never reached a top speed, simply going faster and faster until Milo was forced to stop before it hit the ceiling mere moments later, perhaps three times his height above the tunnel floor.  He'd made a mistake, though.  

The book's momentum halted at his whim.  Rock...not so much.  

Fortunately, Milo realized what was happening just in time.  The rock's momentum carried it to the ceiling with a moderately loud thud, but Milo pushed the book to catch back up and trap the rock there, preventing it from crashing to the floor and making an even louder racket.  

Whoops. 

Whatever, that could have gone a lot worse.  Time for test number three.

Milo was extra excited for this one. If this works…

After carefully lowering the book and its load all the way to the floor and gently tipping the book to dislodge the boulder, Milo willed the book over to a patch of ground just behind himself.

Then, he sat on it.