෴Midnight෴
෴Hex෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
I Need Help.
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Hex answered the doorbell. Outside she found Midnight leaning against the door in his customary shimmery business suit, with a duffle bag made of the same material. She looked closer. Midnight was obviously on his last legs. The slack posture, shaking hands and half-lidded eyes all went well with the bags under his bloodshot eyes.
She reflexively looked past him for Raz.
“You look terrible. Where is he?” She demanded, blocking the doorway.
“I couldn’t find him. I checked the outpost, then the surrounding area. I think they’ve got him, and they must have cleared out of there fast,” he adjusted his stance to lean more heavily on the doorframe, “You gonna let me in?”
She huffed, then stood aside, “What's in the bag?”
“More tech for your associate to look over. This is everything that looked remotely useful for getting intel,” he set the bag down and walked toward the bathroom, “Mind if I grab a shower and a few hours sleep? After that, we need to talk. I need your help.”
She rolled her eyes aggressively, “Sure, why not. Welcome to Sia’s humble bed and breakfast. Don’t mind the noise. Just me, clearing this place out as fast as I can.”
He nodded thanks and went into the bathroom.
Hex spent the next twenty minutes worrying about Raz and moving everything small enough to carry to her other locations.
When Midnight emerged from the steam-filled bathroom in a towel, she stopped him on the way to the guest room, “Wait right here,” she walked to her room and returned with a bundle of fabric, “No disrespect, you’re rocking the look,” she made a show of looking him up and down, “But you chilling in a towel isn't going to work for me. Change into these and we’ll talk.”
She did a double-take when he came back out barefoot, dressed in casual workout gear, “Deja vu,” she muttered to herself.
“I can see that you’re tired. The guest bed’s already gone,” she pointed into the empty guest bedroom for emphasis, He slowly blinked a few times, then pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath before rubbing at his eyes, then his neck, “The floor then. It can't be worse than sleeping on top of that cargo ship for a couple of hours this morning, last night, whenever that was,” he moved to enter the bedroom.
She put her arm out in his path, “Like I said. I can see you’re tired. I’m a little tired myself. But right now you need rest, and I need answers.”
He turned around and walked back to the living room, “I’ll take the couch then. What do you want to know?”
“Everything. I’ve ignored your secrets before, but now your secrets are in the way. As far as I know, your secrets,” she pointed at him with an accusatory finger, “may be putting Raz in danger, and I will not allow that. Not for another minute.”
He half sat, half fell onto the couch, “I’m exhausted. What do you want from me?”
She chewed her pursed lip thinking, “I don’t have a list, but I want answers!”
“Once I fall asleep I’ll be out for a while. Ask your questions already,” he said with a tired finality.
“Let's start with… Um. Uh, why do you need a cow?” She finally spit out the question as though she was surprised to hear it herself.
“To buy me some time to figure out how to get my—Adele away from Mercator,” he sat up straight on the couch, tension reappearing in his tired frame.
“I’ve heard the word, obviously you’re not talking about the cartographer from the 1500s, so who or what is Mercator?” She pressed on.
He swallowed, then shook his head, “You’re not ready for that answer.”
Her eyes flashed with anger before narrowing on him, “This is one of those damn secrets. Where do you get off thinking you get to decide what I’m ready for!? Tell me or find your own damn couch.”
He rolled his neck around, working out the stiffness, “Fine. I guess it doesn’t matter now. He’s a Megiror, strong spatial abilities. Apparently still eating people. I stopped him before, but this time the fight didn’t really go my way.”
She blinked, then sat down on the loveseat opposite the couch, “Ok, that's a lot. So he’s a cannibal, and a ‘Meg-ih-roar’, whatever that is. What do—”
“Not a cannibal,” Midnight interrupted.
“You just said he eats people,” She countered.
He nodded and yawned, “Yep, but to be a cannibal, he’d have to be a person. He’s not. What else do you need to know? I’m fading fast here.”
She thought fast, “What is he if not huma—actually no. Why doesn’t it matter now? What aren't you telling me that I need to know? Stop hiding behind ‘ask me questions’ when you know I don’t even know what to ask.”
Midnight pinched the bridge of his nose before rubbing his temples with one hand, “You’re so sure you’re ready to know. Sure, why not, but it’s a lot more than I can tell you right here and now. Don’t get all mad at me just because I didn’t tell you sooner or any of the other responses you like to go with.”
He sagged back into the soft couch, “To answer your question, it doesn’t matter now, because all my preparations have failed. Everyone I had ready, with abilities tailored to counter the Champions, they’re gone. So stupid, thinking they were safe just because they always have been.”
Something about his mannerisms caught her eye in a way it never had before. She got back to her feet and stepped closer, tilting her head, studying him as he continued to speak.
“The support people you’re working to get online might help, but best case, all I can do is delay the full breach,” he paused and rubbed his eyes, “Even all the tech I need your guy to look over, whatever he learns, that information is mostly good for next time around. I haven’t got the time or the resources to deal with it this ti—” he cut himself off.
With a slow deep breath, he continued, his low, creaking voice betraying his exhaustion, “I need to save Adele for my own reasons, and I’d like to help you find Raz for more or less the same sort of reasons,” he looked up at her with pale blue eyes both strange, and so familiar, “But, neither of those goals really matter. Without everything I’ve pla—”
Impulsively, she reached out and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up toward her face. With her other hand she covered his clean-shaven head. The movement showed her his eyes and face in a way and angle she’d never seen them before. Her gaze locked on his, her eyes stuck between darting away at his features, then being drawn back to his eyes again and again, “Oh my god,” she breathed.
She let go of his chin and stumbled backwards, “No. No! What kind of sick game are you playing?”
The weathered old man with a face that looked exactly the way she imagined her boyfriend would look by the time he was forty, looked up at her sadly, “No game. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t want to put you through this, but I can’t even maintain a minor facial shift anymore,” he leaned back into the cushions, looking at her with a strange mix of exhausted apathy and dread.
For a long moment Hex sat there dumbfounded. She didn’t know what to think. What did this mean? Was it a trick? Her racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his soft snores.
෴Reginald Martine෴
෴Candace Remington෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Bad News
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
The sharp rhythmic click of heels on expensive stone floor tiles announced the arrival of Candace into Martine’s inner office. Once there, she waited for his acknowledgment. Several minutes passed before he looked up at her.
“What do you have for me, Candy?”
She suppressed a frown at the casually dismissive way he referred to her old persona. Without missing a beat, she plastered a pleasant smile on her face and stepped forward into her presentation position, “Sir, I have several more updates. Would you like me to summarize, or will you be wanting to read them?” She carefully kept her eyes downcast, and betrayed no impatience in the several minutes that passed between her words and his response.
“Oh right. You’re here. What do you have for me, Candy?” Martine said with an absent-minded tone.
Her smile went a little strained, as she mustered the effort to maintain her new persona, “Yes sir, I have several more updates for you. Would you like a summary?”
He ran his hand through his hair and pushed the papers aside, “Might as well. All I’m getting is bad news lately. Maybe you’ve got something better.”
Her false smile suddenly became very real as she allowed herself to hope, “Well sir, I’m afraid this won't be much of an improvement, I have a report from Braithwaite, a message from McAvoy, and updates from two anomaly harvesting operations.
She gave him the update from Braithwaite, watching his expression tighten up as absorbed the tally of failure, losses, and expenses. She handed him the folder.
Martine hunched over his desk, his jaw clenched as he bit out his response, “That’s going to be a problem. What’s the message from McAvoy?”
Her now genuine smile widened ever so slightly, “Of course sir, Mr. McAvoy has sent a substantial invoice, citing the collateral damage clause of his contract. He included video, as well as photos. Apparently, one of his operations was wiped out, possibly in retaliation. He took substantial losses in capital and assets that are difficult to replace,” she handed him the next folder, along with a small data storage key.
Martine snarled, “Why is it all bad news with you people lately? Damnit. Stop telling me things I don’t want to hear!” his voice rose into a ragged shout by the end of his exclamation.
Wild exultation surged within Candace Remington. Within the strict confines of a mark four control implant, she settled on maintaining her polite smile, masking the manic glee within, “I’m sorry sir, would you like to hear the rest of the reports later?”
“No,” he growled, “What’s the word from the harvesting sites?”
Holding back a delighted giggle by the thinnest of margins of will and long practice, she managed to keep her voice even, “Of course, sir, the harvesting team at the Antarctic anomaly has discovered a very large hostile life form. They’re calling it an… Oh, it seems the transmission cut off there. It was a request for emergency evacuation. It’s just waiting for your approval,” she said in a bright, cheery tone.
He bolted to his feet, “Issue the approval! Have there been any further transmissions?”
She shook her head in apparent bewilderment, “No sir, not since this one came in late Friday evening.”
“Friday evening? Why am I just hearing about it now?!” He bellowed, his anger creating sparks of fear in her as she struggled to maintain her act.
“I’m so sorry sir. You were quite specific when you indicated a desire to not be bothered by office issues over the weekend,” she curled into an obsequious bow that was reinforced by hunched shoulders and a cringing neck.
He sank back into his chair, “Damn it. Candy, I need you to use your best judgment when important things happen.”
She hunched over further, “Of course sir, I’m so sorry to let you down.”
“It’s not your fault, I just want a day without any bad news. Is that too much to ask?” He said with a sigh like a gust of wind, “Go send a rescue/recovery team, but warn them of possible hostiles, and outfit them for asset retrieval,” he glanced at one of his screens, “Gotta get this capital hemorrhaging under control,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’ll send the team right away, thank you, sir,” she handed him a folder and moved to leave, with one folder still in hand.
“Wait,” he called out, “What about the Mongolian harvesting operation?”
She looked down at the folder in her hand as though shocked to find it there. “Oh yes, of course. The Mongolian harvesting operation has gone dark,” she placed the last folder on his desk.
His fists clenched, “Damnit, give me a break from all this bad news!” He looked at her cowering again, “Oh, just, go do what you need to do.”
She hurried off, her petite frame hunched and cowed as she left the office. Only outside, in the relative privacy of an empty hall did she allow herself to feel the sense of accomplishment at having finally succeeded in her goal.
She whispered to herself, her tone giddy, “Of course sir, I’ll go do what I need to do. I’ll give you a break from bad news. I’ll definitely start using my best judgment when important things happen, and you better believe I’ll stop telling you things you don’t want to hear.”
With these thoughts echoing in her mind with full implant approval from Martine, she almost danced her way to the elevator.
෴Raz෴
෴Fidel෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
A Gift of Rope.
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Raz ran his fingers through his unruly beard as he studied Fidel. Fidel continued to sit there, the afternoon sun slowly filling the canyon with shadows.
“Well? It’s a simple question. If you want to die, I’ll leave you to it. I don’t know your history, but from the company you’ve kept, you’re no angel. However, you might want to rethink dying here, now, and this way. I’ve read about people with enhanced durability dying of exposure and dehydration. Your ability will keep you alive a lot longer, and just drag out the inevitable,” Raz tossed a pebble past Fidel’s blank stare.
Fidel looked at where the rock hit the canyon wall, then in Raz’s general direction, “What you want from me?” He rasped out.
I’m not even sure I know the answer to that.
“I want a lot from you. But I’m prepared to pay well for it. I’m not asking if you want to die just to make conversation you know.”
“Nyet, no man truly want die, not like this. No man wants bad death,” his gaze darted around, but didn’t seem to focus on anything.
I think he’s blind!
“So, what would make it a good death?” Raz asked.
Fidel said nothing. Raz was just about to give up when Fidel grunted and looked in his general direction, “Why you care? Should want kill me,” his voice a dry croak.
Raz clenched his fist and looked to the pale blue sky for several seconds before answering, “Don’t get the wrong idea. I can walk away and let you die without losing sleep over it. You nearly killed me! Of course part of me wants you dead!” He looked over his fallen enemy, taking in the bloody compound fracture, and host of other serious injuries apparent just by looking, “On the other hand, I could also fix you up. Let’s start with some water.”
I guess we’ll see how he takes this.
Raz tossed the canteen from a few feet away. It landed next to Fidel’s good arm.
[Please have a seat. At current absorption rate, you’ll fill catalyst reserves in less than a minute, I will then acquire HUD:Triage:Remedy. No issue or surprises expected with this unlock, but I’ve been wrong before.]
Yes, that’s the kind of warning I’m looking for!
Raz returned to his prior spot and sat down against the canyon wall, “I just tossed you my canteen, have a drink.”
Fidel kept his gaze averted, and felt around for the canteen. After finding and carefully opening it, he took several swallows, then one last drink before setting it against his ribs and twisting the cap back on. He hefted the canteen like a football.
Raz snapped to full slow time, ready if Fidel took the opportunity to throw the canteen as a weapon.
Fidel didn’t throw it, “Spasibo vam bol'shoye. Thank you. You take it back? Want I toss it?”
“Sure, just toss it toward me. I know you can’t see, so you don’t have to pretend.”
He’s not left handed, so who knows where it’s gonna land.
The throw was a surprisingly accurate gentle arcing toss. As Raz reached out to grab it, the world took a startling jump in clarity and sensory input. After catching the canteen, Raz blinked away the sudden brightness and mentally dialed back the sensoria levels until he was comfortable with them.
[Remedy ranks 1-3 unlocked. All external healing efficacy doubled. -6 STA regen.]
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
[Newly revealed ability, HUD:Triage:Remedy:Diagnostics has greater than 100% overlap with Somatic Restoration:Advanced Restoration:Diagnose and Somatic Restoration:Advanced Restoration:Give and Take Life:Advanced Diagnose. HUD:Triage:Remedy:Diagnostics auto unlocked without cost.]
[Newly revealed ability, HUD:Triage:Remedy:Diagnostics:Repair]
Why am I getting a bump in Perception every time I unlock anything? That one was a big change!
[Side effect of Synergistic Interfacing. All abilities grow in power when you unlock HUD tree abilities, and to a lesser extent, when any ability is unlocked. Because this also increases the effect of Synergistic Interfacing, the increase per unlocked ability rank appears to be growing.]
Does that mean if I unlocked enough useless abilities, I’d still eventually be kind of badass?
[You do see the man, a ‘human tank’, as you thought of him, broken and dying before you, struck down with a single blow, a single blow struck by your hand, right?]
Good point. Of course, that was after he just about killed me without even trying very hard. Am I turning into the classic glass cannon?
[Kind of, once you’re up to speed on what you can do now, we should work toward the defense or mobility areas of White Fire so you don’t end up the same way so many glass cannons do, unexpectedly splattered. Also, there are no ‘useless’ abilities, even if you aren’t impressed by them.]
“You say ‘fix me up’. Have doctor? Why you offer? What is...catch?” Fidel sounded tired, as though getting some water had broken some dam he’d erected against his own exhaustion.
I can’t believe he’s not biting at this. Maybe he really is ok with dying.
Raz rolled his neck until it cracked a few times, “Hmm, I think perhaps you’re doubting my ability to make good this offer. I’ll show you.”
Raz made his way to where he could lay a hand on Fidel’s ankle. Fidel clearly heard his approach, but didn’t seem to feel, or at least react to, his touch. The skin under his fingertips was feverishly hot, swollen and mottled with dark shades of purple and red.
Won’t be kicking at me with a broken femur, so this is as safe as I can be.
Diagnostic senses pulsed into Fidel. Instantly, a page of error messages appeared.
[Malformed ability structure. Ability
Some missing support structures.
Missing foundation.
Two unsynergized partial tree unlocks detected.
The target system suffers minor instability. Risk of self-inflicted damage: minor.
To partially alleviate these conditions, acquire one of the following known abilities: HUD: Repair, HUD: Respec, Somatic Restoration: Recode.
To fully resolve these conditions, acquire one or more of the following known abilities: HUD: Reforge, Somatic Restoration: Custom Ability]
Raz skimmed the errors, but read the end more carefully.
Going to need to learn more about those other abilities. Subtle analysis.
“Fidel, I need you to tell me that yes, you want to live.”
Fidel tried to shrug, but the groan of pain and series of new diagnostic messages as broken bones rubbed against each other told another story, one that Raz could well relate to.
‘Da, want live. You happy now?” he grumbled in a pained voice.
[Remote access achieved. Warning: Target system running all psychological trauma remediation, including those flagged as creating the ‘red’ condition.]
Will it cause any problems if I turn the bad ones off?
[Unknown, this is new territory for both of us.]
Raz mentally shrugged and turned them off. Fidel didn’t react.
[Analysis complete. Target possesses partially supported abilities in two trees. The better supported tree is focussed on strength and durability, roughly translating to, “Tank man”. The other tree is in worse shape, and is a thermal focussed close range directed energy ability.]
That all tracks with what I already know. Did I get anything for it?
[Yes, you’re now once again capped on capacity.]
Don’t even tell me how much got wasted, that’ll just bum me out.
The moment Raz entered slow time and began healing Fidel, he heard something call out in the distance. A high pitched chittering sound, followed by a dry grinding, rasping sound like stone grinding on metal. He dropped the ability, and the sound stopped. Listening with all his focus, he could hear sand shifting in the distance, somewhere in the canyon behind him.
“I have a bad feeling I’m learning something unpleasant about this ability right now. Fidel, I need to know, how did you find me in the darkness last night? I know you could somehow tell where I was.”
“Water,” was his only reply.
“What? No, I mean, how did you know where I was,” Raz replied.
“Da. You want question. I want thirsty. Give water.”
“Oh, right,” Raz tossed the metal bottle toward Fidel’s good hand, “My question matters to you right now more than you might think.”
Fidel sucked down another big drink, and set the canteen down. Raz thought about how he’d led Brock around with his need for answers.
Ok, being on the other end of this question dynamic isn’t much fun.
Fidel tilted his head back, directing unseeing eyes toward the sky, “Was not sight, or sound. At times, awareness, certainty. Felt your presence. I just knew,” he finished.
Healing myself lured in that lizard rabbit last night. I wonder if this ability is ringing some kind of dinner bell to animals that are catalyst attuned when I use it. Might be even worse when using it on someone else, less contained.
With his sensoria wide open, Raz carefully released a single small tendril of Diagnose. He received an updated list of injuries, but the soft movements of sand continued, growing closer. After a moment he stopped, then released a full power diagnostic pulse. Whatever had called out before remained silent.
So it's not the diagnosis, it's the healing itself. I guess that makes a kind of sense.
“You’ve got a lot more serious injuries than your eyes, but I’m starting there anyway. Close your eyes,” he informed Fidel.
Even working with care and his best effort toward subtlety, the instant Somatic Restoration went to work on the burn scarred surfaces of Fidel’s cornea, something big moved behind him. Fidel’s eyes had been flash burned. His entire upper body had branching burns that spread out like upside down trees along his skin, and as Raz could feel, inside his body. Those same fractal burn patterns existed on the surface of his eyes.
There’s a word for this kind of injury, Lichtenstein or Lichenberg or something. Come on Bee, perfect recall, but with tons of exceptions?
Even as he thought about that, Raz worked as fast as he dared, hoping to restore vision in at least one eye before whatever was coming arrived. All the while aware of Fidel’s miniscule supply of catalyst hampering his overall work. As he set Fidel’s body finishing his work with Remedy, and moved to his other eye, a tiny sound like metal scraping on stone came from behind. That sound was joined by a softer almost inquisitive chittering noise. Raz stopped healing Fidel, but remained in slow time, surging to his feet as he spun around.
Scan
[Human standard consciousness detected, tagged as: ‘Fidel’]
[Current status: Despair.]
[Estimated HP: 13%]
[Energy: 50%]
[MHP: 1/1]
He got an MHP back, but he has a lower max MHP now? Clearly a lot more to learn here.
[Animal nervous system detected, tagged as Fennec Fox.]
[Current status: Hiding, fearful.]
[Estimated HP: 100%]
Yeah, you should probably stay hidden at the moment little dude. Things about to get real out here.
[Animal nervous system detected, untagged.]
[Current status: Hunting.]
[Estimated HP: 100%]
[MHP: 1/1]
Somehow, I don’t think that's going to be another lizard rabbit.
[Unclassified non human consciousness detected, untagged]
[Current status: restless, stirring]
[Estimated HP: 100%]
[Energy 100%]
[MHP: 14/20]
Still at 14, I guess that's good news? I need to learn more about what MHP actually means. Now it’s stirring. Why does that seem like a bad thing?
58.42 meters away, a large insectile head with large compound eyes, sharp mandibles, and writhing antennas peeked around the corner, the head was .5 meters across, and 2.74 meters above the ground.
Oh great. Of course, it would be one of those.
Raz tagged it with ground control. The marker landed centered on its abdomen.
Temporarily designate Fidel as a friend. I’d hate to accidentally fry him after all this.
[Opponent designation manually overridden.] Simultaneously, Fidel’s red Ground Control target chevron switched to a green Friendly Fire marker.
The mantid stepped delicately around the corner. For perhaps the first time, the HUD’s insistence at informing him of the details of observable measurements didn’t improve things at all. Knowing that the pair of folded back curved sword-like blades were each nearly the length of his own body, or that its total attack reach was well over three times his own brought no comfort whatsoever.
Side note Bee, why am I getting all the measurements stuff again? Thought I turned it off a long time ago.
[Terse mode overridden: Perhaps we can discuss this when there isn’t a giant insect looking to make us into lunch.]
“Hey, Fidel?” Raz still didn’t understand why slow time left his own voice sounding oddly deep and slowed down, while everyone else’s words remained clear even deep within slow time, “Are you bullet proof to .50 caliber machine guns?”
Fidel seemed to take forever to answer as Raz watched the Mantid creeping closer.
“Nyet, resistant only. Have not tested, but heavy—pulemet—machine gun, bounce off, but hurt me when hit. No want learn how many it take to kill me.”
[Both insects attacking the outpost were hit up to 40 times each before falling.]
Yeah, that's what I thought. They only have one MHP, but somehow they’re tougher than him. It’s coming closer, I guess it’s time to do this.
With one eye barely able to see, Fidel finally caught a glimpse of the approaching mantid. He started speaking in Cuban Spanish, rapid-fire well practiced words spoken in a rote manner and a tone that sounded like prayer. The giant insectile creature stopped just outside of its melee range. Its head tilted back and forth as it studied Raz and Fidel.
“Yeah, this could get ugly,” Raz said.
I need to figure out what my range is with this.
Raz allowed White Fire to flow around him. The mantid’s stance abruptly changed. It shifted in place and became more wary. It circled with him, placing each of it’s four legs with delicate care, and maintaining a careful twelve meter gap between them.
As they circled, several times it leaned forward and thrust out a lightning quick strike from one of it’s sword-like armaments, acting as if to strike at him. In the drawn out slow time, Raz could plainly see it wasn’t committing any of its weight or even shifting its legs in its basic feint maneuvers. Despite that, the strikes were fast, even in slow time they looked deadly.
A threat display? Is it trying to scare me off, or get me to attack?
He allowed White Fire to surge slightly higher each time the big bug pretended to make a move. Just when their careful movements on the canyon floor had nearly reversed their positions, Raz realized his mistake.
The mantid kept one compound eye facing him, as it skittered forward and thrust a sword arm at Fidel. Incredibly, the broken man deflected the strike into the wall next to him, then grabbed hold of the blade with his good hand. The edge drew blood, but the rapid twist of Fidel’s wrist and arm on the mantid’s blade extorted a whistling scream of anger and pain from the big bug.
Of course, it wants the wounded prey. Not today, bug. I might kill him myself, but I’m backing team human vs bugs.
It abruptly snatched the giant blade back. Fidel let out a cry of pain. From the corner of his eye Raz saw a small object come flying in his direction. It was one of Fidel’s fingers. He plucked it from the air, and tucked it in his pocket as he closed in on the two.
Nice one, first some slimy rocks and a pearl looking thing from a catalyst sac, then Higgs blood, then my blood, then I pissed myself, now a severed finger. No wonder I’m avoiding my sense of smell. These pants are disgusting, and as a bonus, I’ve reached a new level of disgusting, with regards to what I’m keeping in my pockets.
White Fire surged around him. The mantid seemed to feel it, and reacted by drawing back farther. Too slow. The energy ramped up quickly, then vanished from him with an audible snap. Nothing was visible, but his White Fire sense told him the energy had built up within him, then jumped into the mantid.
The creature staggered in place. One of its front legs flopped limp, a thin plume of smoke seeping from the joint. It reared back and screeched again, tearing at the damaged leg, before hacking it off with one of it’s sword arms, displaying a terrifying precision and range of motion as it did. As the damaged leg hit the sand, it lowered its armored body near to the ground, and used its five remaining limbs to move. With its sword arms acting as extra legs, it charged the two men.
In an instant, Raz repeated his White Fire strike. This time the sword arm that bore Fidel’s blood, the arm closest to Raz, burst into flames as he heard the snap. Clear gel spraying, then oozed from a smoldering hole in the joint above the sword blade. The flowing ichor from the wound smothered the fire, but the smoking wound remained. The creature fell, convulsing on the ground for several precious seconds.
Raz turned and checked on Fidel. The Russian was brushing frantically at the sand beside him, as though searching for something. His pinky stump squirting thin streams of blood into the sand.
Probably looking for his finger. If we live, I guess I’ll get to see if I can reattach body parts.
The mantid laboriously struggled to his feet. It backed away, seeming to reassess the situation. Raz followed, hoping to drive it away.
A chunk of sandstone flew past Raz at the mantid. It staggered in place, then deflected the rock with it’s good sword arm. Raz glanced back at Fidel in surprise. Where he’d been brushing away the sand,Fidel had revealed a pile of fist-sized rocks presumably cut from the wall with his bare hand. From his awkward reclined position, Fidel wound up and threw another one rock with devastating power, but no accuracy. This rock missed entirely, smashing into sand against the opposite wall.
“No let escape. More come back!” Fidel grunted.
Oh great. Well, that changes things.
Raz tried to target the mantid with ground control again to move the marker on the mantid’s abdomen. Instead, a second marker appeared, this one on the creature’s armored carapace.
Nice shot placement man, yes, great, let's just hit it right where it’s the strongest, what could go wrong with that?
Just as he was about to remove the second marker, Bee chimed in.,
[There appears to be a cooldown between placing additional Ground Control Markers per target.]
Ok, I guess we leave it. Bee, put a marker right on its head as soon as the cooldown ends.
The mantid waved its good sword arm menacingly, as it backed away, now in full retreat mode. Raz released another snapping pulse of White Fire. He could feel and see the pulses divided by multiple target markers. It didn’t seem to have much effect on the creature, other than a short spasming stun.
The mantid fell again. As it tried to get to its feet, it let out a long wailing cry. The sound echoed in the canyon.
Why does that sound like a call for backup? Also, Bee, when do I get an enemy health display?
[Terse mode overridden: Probably never, or when you set one up. Why not stop playing around and just hit this thing hard enough to put it down?]
Another chunk of sandstone flew past him, arcing over his head and thumping against the thick shell. The hit staggered the giant insectoid, but didn’t seem to harm it.
Raz thought about Bee’s advice, then sighed and moved in closer. One powerful pulse of White Fire later, and the creature was in its death throes. Fidel kept throwing the rocks. Only when it no longer reacted to the throws at all did Raz approach and analyse it.
A tightly controlled burst of white fire was enough to burn through the chitin-like sword blade, leaving him a knife of sorts. He left the knife on the corpse and returned to Fidel.
“Nice work with the rocks. I knew you didn’t want to die.”
Fidel sagged back against the rock, “Not want die like that!”
Raz looked pointedly at the remaining stones, “Can I trust you not to do anything foolish while I try and fix you up?”
Fidel nodded, closed his eyes and relaxed, “You still not tell me what you want.”
Dude, I’m still not sure I’m not just making a huge mistake.
Raz crouched down near the foot of Fidel’s twisted and broken leg, “That’s because I’m still working it out myself.”
Fidel snorted, almost a laugh.
He began to diagnose again, “You’ve got serious injuries. Maybe you last another day out here if I leave, two if I leave the water and another one of those things doesn’t find you.”
Fidel nodded, “Is true. No want that.”
Raz dropped to slow time and started working on his other eye, “You mentioned a bad death. What would make for a good death?” As he worked on the seared retina, he sacrificed some speed in order to remain focussed on listening for danger.
Didn’t think so at the time, but maybe I got lucky last night after all.
While Raz worked, Fidel talked, “Good and bad death is, ah, things I learn as a boy. Cultural? Good death, rare for man like me. Good death is in good...company. Family, people held near. Life lived, needed things done.”
Raz finished with the second eye and set Fidel’s body to finish his work with Remedy, “Can you see with both eyes now?”
Fidel blinked a few times, “Is better. When you get so much beard?”
Raz took a few minutes or hours, depending on who was counting, to deal with Fidel’s most pressing injuries before the small amount of catalyst in the man was gone.
He stood and stretched, “I guess I need to go gut that thing now. You asked what I want in exchange for your life. How about this, you think about what your life is worth to you, what you’ve done with it so far, and ask yourself if you’d like to be better.”
So over the top cheesy!
Fidel seemed to take it at face value, “Dah. I will think. But you think. Why you do this? Why you offer me anything?”
Raz smiled, “Oh, that’s easy. A great man taught me to make the decisions that the person I want to be, would make.”
Fidel nodded, and leaned his head back on the wall. He was lightly snoring a moment later.
Raz returned to the insectile creature and got to work. Nearly twenty minutes later, he’d finally managed to work his improvised blade into the armored catalyst reservoir. He used the blade to fill the small flask with the dark syrupy juice inside.
This will never not be at least a little disgusting.
There was still some liquid, and a collection of small cloudy crystals. Raz put them in his pocket, feeling the severed finger as he did.
Oh man, he’s just missing a finger and didn't even say anything. This guy is so metal. I hope I didn’t wait too long.
He pulled the finger out, one of the small catalyst rocks he’d gotten from the giant snake was stuck to the stub. The finger looked surprisingly ok, once he overlooked the sand and dried blood. He gently pulled the rock off, leaving a light sheen of crystal flakes on the stump.
So his blood dissolves these rocks as well. This has to mean something. This is all so gross, without Somatic Restoration, I wouldn't even try.
Fidel seemed completely out of it. Raz gently shoved him several times, then gave up and decided to try to reattach the finger. Using more of his rapidly dwindling water supply, Raz cleaned off the sand encrusted finger stump, and pressed the severed digit back onto the stump. The sharp blade had sheared the finger off rather cleanly, leaving Raz to wonder just how Fidel’s durability worked.
Within slow time, Raz found the severed digit. It was dark, much of the flesh showing as dead, the rest dying. To his surprise, he was able to persuade Fidel’s body to reattach to the dying stump, and cycling fresh blood and nutrients into the finger allowed him to look more closely at the dying and recently dead cells. The dead cells fell into many categories. Some he couldn’t save, but most of them he could, although each type of cell death seemed to need its own specific type of action from him to reverse the necrotic progression. When he finished up by ensuring the remaining cells could still respond to valid programmed cell death, and other normal apoptosis, Raz sat back against the wall and closed his eyes for a minute.
Didn’t even know there were so many ways a cell could be dying! Why does this make me so tired? At least the catalyst on the finger was enough.
[I suspect you’re not yet accustomed to the additional loss of stamina regeneration from Remedy. Or you’re simply still recovering mentally and physically from your own near death experience, and spending subjectively so long dealing with death has taken a toll on you.]
“You’re probably right,” he muttered.
“Da, am awake,” Fidel muttered before dozing back off.
Raz brought a dollop of the gelatinous fluid from the creature and allowed it to drool into Fidel’s mouth in a thin slow moving stream. Fidel swallowed it without waking. Raz repeated this until he ran out of catalyst he could scoop out of the sac, and finished by wiping the blade on Fidel’s good arm.
Ok, he’s had time to absorb it, back to work.
Using his access to Fidel’s ability system, Raz chose absorption for the topical catalyst, then got back to it. He worked on Fidel for the better part of an hour. The Russian man was less severely injured than Raz had been when he woke, but he was still in extremely bad shape. Diagnose confirmed that Fidel had no catalyst reservoir, so Raz focussed on internal bleeding and organ damage to ensure the big man didn’t die unexpectedly.
By the time he’d done enough to ensure Fidel would live another day, Raz felt a bone deep exhaustion.
I’m starved. I wonder how gross that bug meat is.
He was delighted to discover that the two burned limbs were filled with meat that reminded him of cooked crab legs. Once he’d stuffed himself without even finishing half of the first leg segment, he pulled off a big chunk and slipped it into the Fennec’s den entrance, “Hey little guy, it could use some garlic and butter, but it’s good!”
The rest of the leg he took back to Fidel, “Wake up! It’s dinner time.”
Fidel woke, then sputtered and coughed before grabbing at the canteen for another drink, “What die in my mouth?”
Raz shrugged, “Who knows. Maybe you just have desert breath. Want some dinner?”
Fidel took the large slab of leg meat with some trepidation, but wolfed it down once he’d had a taste, “Is like lobster.”
“Yeah, surprisingly tasty, could use a little salt and butter. Are you still hungry?”
When Fidel shook his head, Raz smiled, “Good, then let’s talk about your future. Are you the man you want to be?”
‘Are you the man you want to be?” Seriously? Sounds like you’re selling something. What are you doing? He’s not a kid, so back off the dad talk.
Shut it doubter, this is the approach he’ll respond to, I know it.
[Really? It’s not enough you talk to me, but now you’re going to also rhetorically start talking to yourself?]
With the Somatic Restoration link telling him every large and small movement and change in the man’s body, enhanced perception at his command, Raz could almost read his mind as Fidel retreated inside himself to give voice to thoughts and ideas he’d considered all but lost.
Fidel glared at him for a moment, before shaking his head, “Nyet. You right. Not good. Not man I want be. That why good death not for me.”
Everything about what he was saying rang true, in all the ways Raz could tell, so he went for the big score,
“Well, would you like to change that?”