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A Malicious Test (Scene 1)

A Malicious Test (Scene 1)

--- Joshua ---

“Alright.” He swallowed feeling a sudden bout of nervousness, before stumbling towards a chair across from the man, idly noting both the Malice Merchant’s guard off to the side as well as the familiar empty warehouse from the week before. “Should I start with new powers or the one you already know about?”

“Hm,” The Malice Merchant tilted his head to one side. “We’ve already made a few discoveries towards the black substance you’re capable of producing, but why don’t you tell me what you’ve discovered about it yourself?”

“Right.” He sighed, trying to think about the little bit of process he’d managed to make. “So far I’ve figured out that I have this sort of connection to anything that touches the black stuff. Like those tags I make, I can keep track of them for up to eight meters away now.”

“Now?” The Malice Merchant interrupted. “Meaning the distance has increased from when you first got it, correct?”

“Um, yeah.” He nodded. “First time I tested the distance I could only go about four meters, then I used one of those vials you gave me and was able to double that distance.”

“And you’ve been able to maintain that increased distance since?” The man pressed, his eyes narrowing.

“Uh, I haven’t really tested it since…” He found himself admitting as a chill ran down his spine.

The Malice Merchant sighed before giving him another look. “And have you made any other progress with this particular power set? For instance do you know if there’s an upper limit to how many tags you can place at once?”

“I, um, no.” He felt like he might’ve failed that particular line of inquiry.

(No. Don’t think like that. I can still save this show!)

He shook his head clear before trying to make an attempt to salvage this whole thing. “But I have upped the amount of stuff I can produce in a single sitting, and I figured out how to make my tags move a bit.”

“How to make your tags move?” The man repeated with some interest. “How do you mean?”

“I can make them move a few inches from wherever I place them.” He elaborated with what little he knew about that untested ability.

“Are you limited to a single surface, or can you make the tags move onto a touching surface?” The man asked, writing something down on his clipboard.

“I… I’m not sure.” He admitted with a grimace.

The Malice Merchant gave him a mildly disdainful look. “You weren’t particularly thorough with your power testing were you?”

“I… I tried to focus on finding other powers I might have.” He explained, not liking the fact that he was trying to make excuses for himself.

“And did you find anything of interest?” The man asked in a bored tone, as if he was already writing Joshua off.

(Shit, my ratings are plummeting!)

“I used my healing factor to get my strength to a notably higher level.” He offered, knowing how many people like super strength. “And since I didn’t build any visible muscle despite being able to lift for almost ten times my previous amount I think I’ve got some muscle density thing going on that’ll let me go beyond normal human limits.”

“Yes, that all falls under the expected physical enhancements.” The man told him, before frowning at something. “What do you mean by, you used your healing factor?”

“Oh, um, I’ve noticed my healing factor makes it so I don’t really get physically tired?” He tried to explain. “I mean, I do for a few seconds if I push myself but it doesn’t last long enough to actually slow me down. So from there I just worked out until I dropped, healed and repeated until I was doing almost ten times as much as what I started with.”

“Hm, so the strength was developed rather than inherent? Not rare, but not exactly common either.” The man informed him, writing something else down before giving him another look. “Anything else of note?”

“Oh, um… Nothing physical but, uh… ” (What else was there?) He blinked trying to piece together something that might impress the Malice Merchant. (Wait, wasn’t the whole reason they wanted me because of Chris’s Madness?) “Do you know what a rube goldberg machine is?”

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The man tilted his head in curiosity. “That’s when something is made needlessly complex isn’t it?”

“Right.” He nodded, trying to think of the best way to explain what was probably the exact power they were hoping to get out of him. “Well, do you know my brother’s old ‘rule of cool’ trick?”

“The one where he manipulated madness to force probability into his favor?” The man verified, hints of interest coloring his voice.

(Looks like I was right in what they want from me.) He told himself feeling a little more confident. “Well I’ve managed to develop something that’s between the two of them.”

The man knitted his hands together while leaning forward expectantly. “How so?”

“I’ve got this field like thing that I can project, it lets me do things with extremely low odds of happening by making the problem even more complicated.” He elaborated, hoping that was enough to peak the man’s interest.

The Malice Merchant stared at him for a moment before asking. “Can you prove it? I mean, given how this is your brother’s signature power, it might just be you seeing things that aren’t really there.”

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, feeling a faint trace of indignation at the thought that he might not have the power he’d spent years trying to get.

“Something with a notably low probability, and yet viable as a testing sample.” The man mumbled to himself before eventually turning back to him. “Do you happen to have a coin on you?”

“Uh, yeah.” He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a quarter.

“Alright, now flip it.” The man told him.

“Um, I think making it repeatedly land on the same face isn't going to work well.” He grimaced, already seeing where this test was going. “I can only really do it two or three times in a row before I have to stop.”

“That’s fine,” The man assured him. “Just humor me for now and flip it as high as you can.”

Nodding once, he did as the man asked and flipped the coin as high into the air as he could before managing to catch it in a feat that was more luck than skill.

“Good.” The man told him, watching with an intense gaze. “Now without looking at it, flip it again.”

He did, once more lucky enough to catch it.

“And again.”

No longer sure of where this was going he tossed the coin into the air, watching as it flew even higher than before, something that would make it all the harder for him to catch.

“Now make it land neither heads nor tails.”

“What?!” He asked, his eyes shooting to the man, before jumping back to the coin as he realized he lost his rhythm and didn’t know if he could catch it again.

“Neither heads nor tails.” The man repeated in the same bored tone as before.

(Neither heads nor tails, neither heads nor tails.) He told himself, trying to will the coin to land in his hand in that odd angle. (Though how will he know I actually used my power to make it land-)

His chair creaked beneath him, before the legs gave out and his chin bashed on the table edge nearly knocking him out as the table’s own legs gave out causing it to crash to one side before flipping at an odd angle as his knee hit it’s underside as he recoiled from the blow to his chin.

Groaning and in pain, he forced himself to sit up before finding the man staring at something on the broken table.

“Interesting. Very interesting, Mr. Durand.” The man congratulated him, and as he peered closed he realized the coin had caught on one of the broken table legs and was now being held up on its side, unable to fall thanks to the chip in the metal so small that the entirety of george washington was still visible on the side.

The man continued to stare at the coin for another moment before finally focusing on him. “Tell me, this was the last power you managed to develop over this last week, correct?”

“Uh, yeah…” He admitted a little nervously. “I’ve got a few other things I’m working on, but that’s the last of the stuff I’ve actually managed.”

“I see.” The man nodded, before giving him a look. “In that case do you remember what I said about your powers and conflict?”

“That fighting makes my powers grow faster?” He answered, not entirely liking the direction this was going.

“Good then this won’t take you by surprise too much.” The man smirked in schadenfreude.

“Wha?” A hand latched onto his shoulder before flipping him into the air and throwing him across the warehouse where he hit the concrete floor with a pain filled roll.

With a whole new slew of aches on top of the old, he couldn’t help but groan as he slowly picked himself up and turned back to the Malic Merchant, his guard, and a new figure now standing between him and the other two.

“Meet Zylah, the Shadow Dancer.” The Malice Merchant introduced gesturing to the pale young woman in a black masquerade mask, wearing a sleeveless black dress of shifting shadows that stopped mid thigh on one side and mid calf on the other. “She’ll be in charge of the more physical part of your test today.”

“And… And what exactly is that test?” He asked cautiously, somehow able to just tell that the woman in front of him could and would kick his ass if it came down to a fight between them. “Because I really doubt I can take her in a fight.”

“You can’t.” The Malice Merchant admitted bluntly. “Which is why your goal is to survive for as long as possible with her attacking you. Bonus points will be rewarded if you actually manage to land any hits on her.”

He nodded, eyeing the young woman who somehow seemed to be growing more dangerous to his senses the longer she just stood there.

“Right… Just survive… easy.” He lied to himself. (Just got to figure out what’ll put on the best show.)