One more chapter in book 2! Then it's all half coherant ramblings and bullshit that might be retconned later.
෴Raz෴
෴Adele෴
෴Ancient One (Hildolfer)෴
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Aftermath
෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴
Locked in a cycle of nightmares, Raz found himself in the metal and stone arena, watching Hex fight and lose against the Megiror champion over and over again. The details changed, but each time the same damn force field kept him out, and her inside. Each time, he tried another way to break through the barrier. Each time, despite his efforts, he watched her fall to the enemy. When the dream broke, it was with relief that Raz felt Bee trying to get his attention.
[You’re about to wake up in pain. Don’t make a sound!]
What happened!?
[You’re in, or about to be in, significant pain.]
I feel fine.
[You’re in the transition between sleep and waking. You won't feel fine in about 1.04 seconds of real-time. We won’t know the extent of your injuries until you can self-diagnose.]
So why the warning? I’ll just wake up and do that.
[We’ve been moved. I don’t know where we are.]
Raz imagined what that could mean. He couldn't help but imagine he was going to wake to find Mercator, or Braithwaite, or find himself in the lair of some incursion beast.
Well crap. That can’t be good. Ok, I’ll try not to react.
[Warning, the pain of this injury is already reduced to 50% sensory acuity. In combat I can reduce pain down to 25%. To reduce below that requires invoking Emergency Protocols, or Berzerk.]
Hold up, if you’re here, aren’t I already awake?
[You’re in the process of waking up already. There are a number of new developments we need to talk about! I’ve just used a moment of slowtime to have this talk before you fully awake. It’s a sort of looph—
Raz jerked awake, clenching his teeth against a scream. Hot, grinding pain shot up his leg, radiating from his ruined ankle. Despite his best effort, he couldn’t stop a pained grunt from escaping. With any chance of subtlety gone, he reached for White Fire even before he’d opened his eyes. He was alone in a strange-looking room. He held onto White Fire for another moment before letting it fade, reassured by the familiar feel of the roaring power just beyond the gate within him.
You sure you can’t dial that pain down a little more? I need to figure out what our situation is before I dare use any healing.
[Not without getting into a fight.]
That feels like a bullshit technicality we should find a way around.
He laboriously levered himself into a sitting position. Every movement sent fresh blades of pain shooting up his leg from the mass of chaotic tearing and fiery agony that was his foot. Halfway to sitting up, he thought he might pass out as the world suddenly got far away and gray. Every muscle felt stiff and clumsy. He’d expected to have aches and pains from the hits he’d taken, but all he could feel was the crushing, throbbing, burning anguish in his foot. It felt like his boot was constricting down on his heel and ankle. A subtle pulse of Diagnose told him the repair would be slow, painful, and difficult.
Oof, my foot bones are like a bag of loose sand and gravel in there. Active Recovery can’t heal something that won't heal naturally, so it won't help before I get the structure fixed. The connective tissue is all torn up, just like the blood vessels in the area.
The memory of Mercator’s massive fist slamming down on his vulnerable heel crashed into his mind, causing him to flinch in reaction. The slight movement caused his vision to fade at the edges as the tiny shift turned into fresh waves of the sickening feeling of bones grinding on each other. Seconds that felt like minutes later, he got past the pure agony enough to think again.
Can’t pass out! Gotta figure out where I am, what the situation is.
He turned his attention outward and took in his surroundings, ready and expecting bad news. The oddity of the room distracted him from his expectations. Nothing about the room seemed threatening or hostile. He allowed himself to relax, which brought his awareness sharply back to the crushing, throbbing, ache of his crushed heel. The HUD showed that he’d slept all night, and by now, the light streaming in the windows was probably midmorning sunlight.
The room itself was large and airy. His senses told him a conflicting story about it. To his eyes, he was in a solid-walled round room with a high-ceiling and many windows. There were three beds spread around the room, and two trunks at the foot of his bed. A door across from him broke up the perfectly round walls. Electrosense told him the entire structure was a single piece, made entirely of metals. Further, his senses told him the walls were very thin, but still somehow effectively insulating the room from sound and temperatures outside. He thought he could sense someone outside, but even with his enhanced senses, he couldn't pinpoint anything about them.
This construction of this place doesn’t make sense at all. I don’t even think Midnight could make a complicated structure like this on the fly. On the other hand, it’s too small for Mercator to use, so that’s a plus.
[Mercator is dead.]
You heard how the fight with Midnight went! Midnight messed him up good, and when we got there, Mercator was fine! I’m not going to accept he’s dead until I see the—
A surge of energy reminiscent of Mercator’s power appeared just beyond the walls. The door opened. Without a thought, Raz dropped into slowtime and pulled in a torrent of White Fire, ready to go down fighting.
His fear melted into joyful surprise when his mother came in. She looked surprised to see him awake and sitting up. He let the White Fire fall out of him, glad to see she was still bearing a Friendly Fire chevron marker.
She tried to look stern around her obvious overwhelming relief. “Thunraz Owens! What are you doing up!? Don’t you even think about trying to stand on that foot!”
[Uh oh. She’s two-naming you. You’re in trouble now.] A sense of mirth accompanied Bee’s message.
Shut it. Raz thought with amusement. Besides, if she was really mad, she’d throw in my middle name.
“Hi mom, how are you? It feels like it's been a long time.”
“I get that a lot lately.” She murmured with a smile.
He finally took in her haggard appearance. “You look exhausted. Do you need some rest? Or to talk about it?” His gut churned at the thought of delaying his healing. Please don’t want to talk about it. I think I’m going to barf if I don’t do something about this foot soon.
She shook her head, then came in for a cautious hug. Once she angled herself to embrace him without jostling his foot, she pulled him in tight. They held each other for a long time. Soft hitches in her breath told him she was crying or close to tears. It surprised him to feel the burning sensation of his own tears leaking out, as well. All the pain hadn’t wrung a single tear from his eyes, but a hug from his mom was just too much. He tried to stop the flow, but they wouldn’t stop coming. Finally, he just gave in to the relief of knowing she was here. For a moment, he let himself think maybe everything was going to be ok.
Nothing like a full-on mom hug. Only thing better would be if dad was here. No! Shut up! Don’t spoil this. Just enjoy the moment, and remember the plan. Going to save him, no matter what.
She finally let him go, drawing back but leaving her hands on his armored shoulders and giving him just enough to give him room to breathe. “I should be so mad at you, you know? I was incredibly foolish to come here, and you shouldn't have risked your life coming here for me.”
He let out a sharp, barking laugh before smiling wearily. “As if I was going to not come for you. Well, what can I say? Call it a personal failing. I will not let my mom get eaten.”
She slid her fingers along the segmented plate vambraces, then poked the dark grey armored suit. “Did gladiator chic come into fashion while I was away? What on earth are you wearing, anyway?”
He smiled and shrugged. “It’s armor,” he said as he retracted the gloves and vambraces into their minimal bracelet configurations, then glanced at his ruined foot. “Could have used a little more of it.”
Fidel should have had armor! Damn it, why did you rush in with just that axe? You were much better with an axe than I would have thought. I just wish you’d had something more. The worst part is I know I’d be dead if you hadn’t come.
She saw something in his expression and clutched him close again. “As I was saying, I should be mad, but honestly, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m just so happy to be out of there, and more happy that you’re ok. I should never have come here. It was stupid, but I guess we’re two of a kind. I only came to this damn place because I wasn’t about to leave any possible way to find you unexplored.” Her sobs shook him, sending torturous hot razor-wire lines snaking up his leg. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”
He held back as long as he could, but the pain wouldn't stop getting worse the longer he tried to bear it. “Mom, uh, I hate to ruin the moment, but I’m in a lot of pain, and every little movement is just making it worse.” He grunted out between clenched jaws.
She drew back in a rush. “Oh no, I’m sorry. Hildolfer said you’d be ok. Do we need to take you to a hospital?”
Who is this Hildolfer she keeps talking about? No, no questions. Just get to healing!
Raz gave her a tight smile. “No, I’ll be fine, I just need some time and a safe place to heal myself. Are we safe here?”
She nodded, and looked at his foot where it lay at a sickeningly wrong angle on the bed, sitting limp at the end of his leg, his multicolored swollen ankle bulging out of the top and torn side of his boot. “Are you sure? It looks so bad. Hildolfer could take us to a hospital if you need one.”
He clenched his jaw against the pain. “If it’s safe, then just let me do my thing. I need to get this taken care of. It really hurts. Getting hard to talk.” He grunted.
She nodded and stepped back to sit on one of the other beds. “I’ll be right here if you,” she yawned, “need anything.” She said, looking over at one of the other beds. “Or maybe I’ll be sleeping. I’m exhausted. It’s been a hard time.”
He nodded, still thinking about Fidel’s doomed attack on Mercator. Images flooded in, trying to fix Fidel, repairing the dying flesh even after whatever made him Fidel was long gone. He blinked away more stinging tears. “Yeah, thanks,” he swallowed hard, and pushed the pain back, “Where’s Fide—the man I was with?”
Her gaze flicked to the door even as her expression turned sad again. “Hildolfer made a casket for him. It’s just outside,”
He swallowed a few times before the hard lump in his throat finally relented and let him reply. “Thanks.” he couldn't keep the grief from his voice.
She curled up on the closer bed and lay down, looking over at him with concern in her eyes. When she saw his glance, her gaze flicked to the boxes at the foot of his bed with an uncomfortable expression. “Some other things of yours are in the boxes there. Once you’re feeling better, we should talk.”
He nodded absently, already turning his focus inward to deal with the ever-increasing pain.
Why am I so broken up about Fidel? I didn’t even know him that long, not really.
[I think you liked that he understood you in a way few have. Your conversations with him tended toward depth and personal philosophy. Besides, as a wise man once said, ‘bonds forged in fire are stronger’.]
Now you’re going to quote dad to me? If you’re going to do that, you should keep in mind he also once said: “No one cares how you feel. They care about what you do.”
Bee replied. Raz dismissed the message unread. The ever-increasing agony in his crushed heel wouldn’t wait. Done with that discussion. This hurts too damn much to get sidetracked. Let’s hope I’ve got enough in the tank to patch myself up.
Raz willed his Catalyst and capacity display up, hoping he’d have enough Catalyst to handle the injury. Both meters were completely full.
How can I be full? There was a lot happening, but wasn’t I nearly out of Catalyst?
[You were quite low. I was pulling Catalyst from both of your cores as fast as I could free it up, but this is far more than I had mobilized from your solid reserves. Perhaps you were fed some.]
Ok, not going to question a little good luck. Time to get my foot sorted.
Raz dropped into slowtime and dug deep with a full Diagnose. The extent of the damage made him cringe.
Well, this is going to be both tedious and awful. I’ll use my left foot as a template to start arranging and assembling fragments. There is a lot of bone here that’s been reduced to grit and powder. I came up with two methods for dealing with that. Do you recall the method of sealing an entire surface of bone together, and the method for building up bone from splinters and bone fragments I came up with after that fall?
The sense that Bee knew this was rhetorical was enough of a response.
Ok, let's do this. Will it take much of your focus to overlay a mirror image of my skeletal structure so I don't have to keep checking both sides?
[Effectively none.]
A ghostly image of his mirrored intact foot appeared over the crushed mess. He felt his gorge rising at the sight of his mangled tissue, even in the clinical view provided by Diagnose, the ruined flesh sickened him.
Wow, this is bad. He really turned my foot into some chunky hamburger.
With that horrible image in his mind, he got started. The moment Somatic Restoration kicked in, a dim corner of his mind noticed that his mother sat up in bed and looked over at him. He couldn't spare the attention but filed it away as more evidence that Somatic Restoration had some kind of clear signal or tell, that even people without abilities could sense.
[You can’t seriously be thinking that. Assuming she has no abilities is flawed logic at best.]
Oh. Right. That’s a good point. Something to deal with later. I need to focus. The longer I put off healing, the harder it’ll be to start.
The first shift of fragments of bone against bone tore a high-pitched grunt from his lips. It only got worse from there. The only thing that made the waves of near-constant agony bearable was the tangible feeling of satisfaction when two chunks of shattered bone became one, repeating until the overall bone structure looked right.
He lay back on the bed, drenched in stinking sour sweat, exhausted, floating on an endorphin high.
Who knew that pain was so exhausting? I feel like I need a nap, or another night’s sleep.
He let out a jaw-popping yawn as he felt Bee start to reply.
Yeah. I know. We don't have time for a nap. Just saying I want one. There’s never enough time. I just need a minute to catch my breath before we get to…
He paused and pulled up a list of injuries by severity.
Looks like blood vessels are next, then inflammation. Who knew that was worse than mangled connective tissue? Actually, you start on the inflammation. I’ll handle the torn veins and severed arteriole.
With a long moan of painful exertion, he pushed himself up into a sitting position again. Adele had curled up on the other bed to sleep.
Well, at least she’s getting some rest. She looks like she’s been through hell. Ok, back to work.
[I never stopped.]
Must be nice to be able to work hard and have your efforts tire me out.
Later, the HUD clock assured him that what had felt like hours of cellular and tissue level reconstruction had only taken 23 minutes. Finally, he couldn't find anything that looked wrong about his newly rebuilt foot, and let himself relax.
He slid off the bed and got to his feet. Although Diagnose verified that his foot was whole and intact, every step still twinged with small aches and stiffness.
I guess it's practically a brand new ankle. Maybe it needs to be broken in?
[Don’t say the words broken and ankle in the same sentence. Too soon.]
Raz lay down to rest. Now that the pain had receded, a ravenous hunger revealed itself.
Gotta find something to eat. I’ll need my strength if Mercator comes back.
[You’re right, you need a lot of food. Mercator won’t be coming back. You killed him.]
And like I said, until I see the body, I’m going to assume he could come back.
[You’re in some kind of denial. You need to face this memory soon. The longer you go, the worse this denial will be.]
What are you talking about?
[Fidel is dead. Somatic Restoration is powerful, but you don’t have the power to raise the dead. I know you’re wishing you’d acquired the upgrade to Somatic Restoration, but we don’t even know if Life Support would have helped.]
I think it could have helped. The name gives it away, no?
[Fine. Maybe you’re right. But you need to allow yourself to face that memory, so you can get over wondering if Mercator is alive.]
Fine. Show it to me.
There was the sense of a sealed package being opened, the contents bursting forth in a living stream. In that instant, Bee thrust him into memories of the recent past, re-experiencing the terror-filled last moments of fighting Mercator, carrying Fidel into Spark Gap, anchoring himself with the energized weapon, and collapsing the giant’s own portal on him.
He came out of the memory, panting and dry-heaving.
I just can’t see anything else I could have done. It’s hard to accept. Wait! What if carrying him through the Spark Gap is what killed him? What if it’s my fault?
[An unwise man once said something like this to me. Newsflash, I’m not perfect, so you’re not perfect either. Maybe you should accept that you did the best you could in a terrible situation.]
Bee waited for a response that didn’t come.
[Either way, Mercator really is dead. Seeing his body might be difficult. Everything inside his nested space will have been destroyed, or so dispersed as to be indistinguishable from destruction. His arm and head might be around here somewhere, though. Also, it’s very unlikely there wouldn't be a note about it if carrying a passenger via Spark Gap would kill them.]
Ok, I think I can accept that. Even so, Mercator apparently heals pretty fast, and can teleport. How can we be totally sure he didn’t get away somehow?
[You took most of his head and both his arms. Most things don’t walk away from that. Also, you received a title for the kill.]
Hold up. Titles are real? I thought he was just… I don’t know, being snooty, I guess. Why did I have to first hear about titles from a damn giant monster instead of you?
[I’m not omniscient. The amount of information available is staggering, and there is a lot of useless information to sift through to find anything relevant. I never knew to ask this question, just as you didn't. When Mercator asked, and you successfully claimed a title, I took note and looked into it while you played games. What follows is a cursory investigation, as we were busy during that fight. However, titles are one of the things that changed while we were out, and we should look into the latest one.]
‘While I played games’. You say it like I was chilling over a mug of beer, and playing cards with friends.
Bee ignored him and continued on.
[Everyone, or at least all the Catalysed, has access to titles. If what I’ve found is accurate, you have considerably more titles than most humans. Apparently, if a title becomes common enough in a given species
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[[[HUD Command:
Display: Major Titles
Sort by: Newest
Include: Effects
Include: Triggering Event
Verbosity: Low.]]]
Major titles? Are there Minor titles?
[Yes. They are generally considered to be lesser in importance, or ephemeral in nature.]
Ok, we can talk about those another time. Let’s see this list of titles while I catch my breath.
[[Blood of Champions:
Effect: Confers Champion status if not already possessed.
Variable Effect: Unknown/Special. This title effect varies by user, specific blood exposure, and surrounding circumstances.
Trigger: Absorb some of the blood and power of a vanquished enemy champion. ]]
Absorbed the blood? I don’t particularly feel like a vampire. What kind of effects is it talking about?
[I do not know. Feel free to gain another title now that I know to watch them and look for changes in you. Alternatively, I can simply devote an unknown number of years in an attempt to brute force the answer and check everything I can access in hopes tha—]
Oh my gosh, I get it. Maybe it will become clear over time.
Bee continued as though the interplay hadn’t happened.
[[Dimensional Destroyer:
Effects: Unknown
Trigger: Be the sole cause of the destruction of an occupied extra-dimensional space.]]
Ok, that’s kind of cool. I guess not everyone can say they’ve destroyed a world, even a tiny fake one.
[[Giant Slayer:
Effects:
Trigger: Deliver the killing blow to an intelligent being at least 10 times your mass.]]
If Mercator is at all representative of these ‘Megiror’, I have this bad feeling that the effect will be relevant to me. So you’re saying this title is the one that proves he’s dead?
[Correct.]
[[The Lame:
Effect: Unknown, searching.
Trigger: Incur battle wounds that will permanently reduce personal mobility.]]
I don’t like this title. It’s not true anymore, anyway. How do I get rid of it?
[I do not know a way to get rid of a title. Titles may not take all factors into account.]
I’m not sure how, but it seems like that could be a useful distinction to be aware of.
[[The Brave:
Effect: Increased resistance to fear. Increased reputation with those who value courage.
Trigger: Continue into danger in the face of great fear.]]
Didn’t feel brave. Thought I was about to mess my pants a few times.
[Some might say the essence of courage is being afraid and continuing on.]
That does sound better than, ‘I was about to piss myself, but I couldn’t imagine leaving mom to be eaten’.
[[Betrayer:
Effect: Decreased executive function in specific situations.
Trigger: Your carnal actions have deeply wounded someone who loves you.]]
Ouch. Never going to live that one down. Any clue on those specific situations?
[No, I suspect we’ll find out when it’s least convenient. As an aside, I’m surprised Sia was so willing to let it go and move on.]
Raz agreed but didn't have an answer to that, so he just moved on.
[[Juggernaut:
Effect: Unclear, notes suggest that all attack abilities will be more effective vs vast opponents and structures.
Trigger: Be the sole cause of destruction to a massive structure.]]
What is this one from? And what do you mean vast? Didn’t we cover that with larger?
[The Martine Industries high-rise lies in ruin after you broke out of it. Larger is general, all creatures larger than yourself. Vast, at the very least, implies a minimum
[[Berzerker:
Effect: All incoming damage reduced during Berzerk state. Stacks with all durability enhancements.
Trigger: Enter a state of battle madness and survive both the battle, and the aftermath.]]
I guess I don't need more info here, except to wonder why I didn’t feel any impulse to go berserk while fighting Mercator.
[Probably because of what we just talked about. You weren’t enraged. There was no fury. You weren’t even mad; you were scared.]
Oh great, so when I need it the most, Berzerk will be too chickenshit to come out and play?
[I believe that depends on you, and your reaction to events.]
[[The Foolish:
Effect:
Trigger: Execute multiple poorly conceived plans, but somehow make them work.]]
Is that even a real title? I’m feeling a bit attacked here.
[[The Mighty:
Effect: Details unclear, something about increased inspiration and leadership.
Trigger: Be the first of your species to unlock the Might ability tree.]]
I can get titles just for that? Also, are these ‘effects’ actually doing anything, or is this some kind of weird vanity flex?
[You already asked this. It’s been a few whole seconds and I still don’t know more, sorry. I believe they have some effect, otherwise, the ‘effect’ portion of the title would not make sense, but I have not narrowed down how these effects are measured.]
Sarcasm is making you sound really crabby.
[[Nomad:
Effect: Increased inherent navigation abilities.
Trigger: Travel further than the
I bet Hex has this one.
[Given his story about returning from space, Midnight does as well.]
Speaking of. I wonder where he took off to?
[[Thief of Death:
Effect: Unknown or No Effect Yet.
Trigger: Special title conferred by others, then claimed by the titled bearer in the presence of another bearer of titles.
Causative Trigger: Be the sole cause of a significant reduction in local mortality rate.]]
Yet? That’s interesting wording. I wonder how things are back in R1996? I should go back and make sure everything is ok. Maybe I can find a way to do some real, lasting good there.
[[The Compassionate:
Effect: People similar to those you have helped in the past see your actions in a better light.
Trigger: Help others at the expense of your own wellbeing.]]
So there are titles for basically not being a horrible person? I don’t recall making any significant sacrifices for others though. I don’t get that effect either.
[I don’t make the rules. This is my best interpretation of what the title says, and the notes about the titles, when applicable.]
[[Recruiter:
Effect: Your honest dealings with vanquished foes increases the odds of finding allies among your enemies.
Trigger: Defeating an enemy doesn’t have to mean killing them. Use the power of friendship and all that.]]
Are you just making these up now?
[The titles are real, the descriptions may or may not contain some added whimsical flavor on my part.]
[[The Broken:
Effect: Inherent Durability and Recovery slightly increased. Stacks with all abilities.
Trigger: Survive a full-body, catastrophic injury, such as falling to your death.]]
I didn’t fall to my death.
[[The Fallen:
Effect: Increased resistance to impact or gravity-based attacks.
Trigger: Survive a fall to your death.]]
That doesn't even make sense! And I didn't die!
[At the time, your depleted MHP pool would argue against that.]
Raz checked his current MHP. He was unsurprised to find it at 0.
Starting to feel like you’re editorializing this a bit.
[Who me? I would never.]
Sarcasm is the lowest form of humor.
[That would explain why you use it so frequently.]
Raz had to admit Bee had a point there.
[[Wielder:
Effect: Increased Reputation and Intimidation to those who know of your ability.
Initial Trigger: Be the first of your species to unlock the White Fire tree.
Primary Trigger: Use White Fire to defeat an enemy.]]
Mercator didn't seem all that impress—
The opening door interrupted the scrolling list of titles. Instinctively, he dropped into slow time and reached for White Fire, ready to blast whatever came through if it was hostile. An old man in a blue robe tottered in. He seemed confused, as though unsure where to go, or even where he was.
“Is it lunchtime yet? I’m hungry. Where’s my nurse?” He muttered, his unfocused gaze sliding around the room without seeming to see anything.
This guy looks like a rest-home escapee.
Further examination revealed that however, the man was acting, he possessed significant Catalyst abilities.
At the sound of the door, Adele rolled over and sat up. She rushed to the old man and embraced him. “Did you get them home ok?”
The positively ancient-looking man looked at her in confusion. “I—I uh, I—I think I was supposed to come here?” His unsteady voice and questioning tone made it clear he had no idea where ‘here’ was.
She drew back and studied the old man. “Hildolfer? Are you ok?” She asked softly.
He blinked, then tilted his head to the side. Hildolfer hefted a bag. “I have a bag.” He looked surprised to find it in his hand.
She smiled hesitantly. “What’s in it?”
Hildolfer lifted the bag in his hand to eye level and peered at it as though he’d never seen it before, or as though it might speak the answer to the question. Finally, he shrugged and looked at Adele. “I don’t know. What’s in it?”
She gently took it from him. The bag was clearly much heavier than she expected, yanking her arms toward the ground when he released it. She slowed it down enough that it met the floor with a hollow clank like ceramic on metal.
She peeked inside. “Oh, it’s food. That was nice of them. Did they give it to you?”
Hildolfer shook his head. “Did they?”
Raz felt his mouth watering the moment she said ‘food’. “Food sounds good!” he blurted out.
[Indeed. I’ve been looking into some of the Somatic Restoration notes. It’s hard to know for sure, but we probably need around 20000 calories of food to make up for that repair.]
They spent the next while eating their fill of a veritable feast of unusual foods. There were several different kinds of cheese wrapped in cloth, jugs of different fermented milk drinks, and a large cut of fatty roasted beef.
As he ate the tender beef, Raz studied the old man.
Hildolfer. Let’s see what you’re about. Scan.
[[[Enhanced Consciousness detected.
ERROR: Possible duplicate scan target!: Full Analysis recommended.
Provisional Tag: ‘Hildolfer’
Current status: Suffering from cognitive impairment.
Possible cause: Energy deficit.
Energy: <1%
Energy Gain rate: ~6 (per minute)
Energy Usage rate: ~7 (per minute)
Estimated Health: 100%
MHP: 4/30]]]
30 MHP! Wow. That is insane. I wonder if giving him some energy would help with the cognitive impairment.
[Regarding the cognitive impairment, you can probably help, but if he’s constantly using more than he generates, it won't be a permanent fix. Regarding the MHP, that is a lot, but you should keep a closer eye on your own status.]
Raz frowned and pulled up his physical stats.
Strength* +400%
Durability* +100%
Precision* +100%
Force* +100%
Speed* +100%
Endurance* +100%
Health*: ~90%
MHP 0/6
What!? When did all this happen?
[This results from fully unlocking Might rank 1, which provides a stacking 200% increase to Strength, and a stacking 100% increase overall.]
Raz thought back to heaving the large torpedo-shaped land shark carcasses into Brock’s hopper. Oh, right. I guess I knew I had extra strength, but I still feel normal. I don’t feel like I’m twice as much of—well, any of those things.
[You were quite specific in your requirements, especially with regards to the risk of self-injury or unintentional injury of others. The Might tree is one of the safest physical enhancement trees available to you. At rank 2, the risk of self-injury will be all but removed.]
Raz kept eating as he communicated with Bee, drinking down the tart fermented milk drink with a bit of a sour pucker. “Wow, that’s some strong stuff.”
Adele laughed. “You think that one’s strong. This one is like the same stuff, plus vodka.” She took another swig and offered it to him with an infectious grin.
“Ahh, no thanks, mom. I need to stay sharp.” He replied, thinking over his situation as he continued to eat the tasty but unfamiliar cheese.
So, this Hildolfer has an energy problem. I need to unlock another level of Might or White Fire asap. I need the Life Support tier of Somatic Restoration, but...honestly, if it turns out it could have saved Fidel, I don’t know if I could handle learning that right now.
[You have other choices. There are side abilities in every tree that would also help you.]
If this is another episode of ‘talk me into more HUD upgrades’, just skip it. I know I need them, and everything else eventually, but from what Midnight said, there’s a limit to how many abilities I can get. The choice is clear, I need more durability, and Might is the only option I see for that one.
Bee didn’t reply. Raz looked at the withered shell of a man idly picking at one of the pieces of cheese.
Don’t sulk, tell you what. I’ll specifically ask for, and take, your advice on what ability to pursue next after we get back to Sia.
[Deal.]
Don’t make me regret it. Back to the here and now. What about this old guy? Do you think giving him some energy would help him out, or does he also need neurological help?
[Infusing him with energy would unquestionably help him. He is clearly operating at a deficit and losing access to most of his cognitive functions when he runs dry on energy. Whether there are additional problems would remain to be seen.]
Raz got to his feet. “Mom, he was ok before he went and did whatever, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, he was taking the other people home, but he was fine when he left,” her brow furrowed, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him now.’
Raz sighed. “I’m pretty sure I know. I’m going to give him a little jump start, and see if he’ll come to his senses.”
She stood with one of the soft cheeses and took a step back. “You’re not... going to use lightning are you?”
He burst into laughter, prompting a vaguely confused look from Hildolfer. “No, not lightning. But he’s running a deficit of energy, and maybe this will get his brain back online.”
With his mom off to the side, as safe as she could be, Raz placed his hand on Hildolfer’s forearm and began a subtle analysis. The process felt like it took an unusually long time, but when it finished, Raz sent a trickle of energy into the old man, watching his energy rise until it reached 10%. As his internal energy store came up, Hildolfer’s gaze sharpened. The old man slowly came back to himself and blinked away the cobwebs as his eyes regained focus.
With a final shake of his head, as if to clear it, Hildolfer looked down at where Raz gripped his arm. “I remember you. You can already share your energy?! How long was I out?”
“What do you mean?” Raz replied.
“How long!” The old man insisted. “How long was I mentally infirm?”
Adele spoke up. “A little while, maybe twenty minutes.”
He sighed with relief. “Thank god. The last time that happened, I woke up in a prison and I’d lost twenty years.” He looked back at Raz’s hand. “I don’t suppose you could top me up all the way?”
Raz pulled his hand back. “Maybe later. I have some things to think about.”
Decode that analysis.
[Already working on it.]
Raz returned to the bed and lay down. “I’m going to rest for a bit.” He said, looking at his mother, then at Hildolfer as an afterthought.
The old man looked frustrated but lay down on the third bed to rest himself.
Now, let's unlock Might rank 2.
[Might rank 2: Stabilize, unlocking. No side effects predic—]
[ERROR! Host Life processes failing.]
What’s wrong!?
[Host life functions will cease in 5, 4, 3—]
Wait, wait! What can I do?
[Nothing. You’re fine. The unlock is already done, now we just wait for full assimilation.]
Your sense of humor sucks. You better never pull that shit in a bad situation.
[Serious face here. I cannot be truly angry or offended by what you say to me, or how you interact with me, as I’m just part of you. That said, if I could get offended, the idea that you think I would make a joke in combat would be offensive.]
That better not be a pun!
[Not an intentional one.]
Raz felt his stomach grumble. I just ate a couple of minutes ago! How can I be hungry already?
He rolled off the bed muttering discontentedly about twenty thousand calories and started in on the remains of the fermented milk that reminded him of something between cottage cheese and yogurt, and a pale-white hard cheese.
After eating his fill again, he stepped outside. The bright sun and warm dry wind didn’t match his mood as he looked at the torpedo-shaped casket. Approaching it, his knees felt weak, and he all but fell to the ground next to the dark metal. The hinged top opened easily, and he looked at Fidel’s remains, wondering what he could have done differently. Raz took a cool, lifeless hand in his, as he looked at Fidel’s face in repose. The slight, peaceful smile almost mocking him with the appearance of happiness.
[Alternative datastream detected.]
[Perform Final Analysis?]
Oh God, tell me this is more of your bad attempts at a joke.
[It is not. The option to perform a final analysis exists.]
Raz started Fidel’s final analysis. Instantly, he felt an unsettling rushing feeling, as though his mind was the sea at dawn on a windless day. Just below the calm surface of his own consciousness, something vast moved through the water.
As the rushing feeling intensified, his attention pulled to the shape taking form in the quiet stillness of his own mind. Trying to make some sense of it, he tried to put a shape to the growing mass and structure as something intangible flowed out of Fidel’s body into him via this final analysis.
What—is—this? Raz struggled to articulate against the massive flow of information filling the amorphous shape that was growing in him.
Bee didn’t answer, but Raz had the impression it was because his HUD was working overtime to deal with this sudden infusion of something vast and incomprehensible. Outside, his body had gone taut, every muscle rigid as he struggled to accept the immense incoming datastream.
And then, as abruptly as it began, it was over. Raz felt a tremendous pressure and vast sense of space inside his mind relax and recede. The enormous presence continued shrinking down until it became a bright glowing sphere in his mind’s eye. Somehow, he knew that this shimmering sphere in his mind was some kind of stored memory or record of everything Fidel left behind.
[Final Analysis complete: Cleanup? y/n]
Raz selected yes, then let out a surprised shriek when Fidel’s body vanished under his hand. He opened his eyes in time to see the phantasmal figure of Fidel gradually fading from view, leaving only empty clothing behind. When the phantom image and the body of his friend had both vanished, Raz struggled to his feet, and staggered back to the door on unsteady legs. He glanced back at the now empty casket with hot, stinging eyes.
I don’t know what the hell just happened, or how to deal with it.
Inside, Hildolfer was lying on one of the beds, looking at Raz with unsettling ancient eyes that had clearly seen far too much. “First time doing a full download, wasn't it?”
Raz didn’t like the familiarity and implied knowledge behind the question. He met the old man’s gaze with his own. “So, Hildolfer was it? If I fill your energy, can you get me back to uh… It’s a place in Western Australia. Kind of in the middle of nowhere. I might be able to get a GPS coordinate.”
Hildolfer sat up with a yawn. “Well, whatever you do, just don’t try to experience the whole thing all at once. You won't like how that goes if you try to experience too much in one chunk. As for that location, I assume you need transport to Ivaldison Forge?”
Raz nodded, his face betraying a wary confusion. “Yes…” he drew the word out, making it a question.
Hildolfer stood up and abruptly filled out, his body shifting from that of an old decrepit man on the brink of death, to that of a fit man in his forties. “If you fully replenish me, I can take you there easily. If it hasn’t moved yet.”
If it hasn’t moved yet? What?!
Raz held out a hand, a half-smile on his face. “Alright, I’ll refill you, you take us back there, and share some information with me.”
Hildolfer nodded. “Yes. I have a lot to tell you. Now that you’ve killed Mercator…” he trailed off. “I could swear I was part of that fight,” he paused, then shook off the fugue, “I think I can tell you just about everything I know,” he frowned, his expression suddenly consumed by sorrow, “although, a lot of what I know will just make you unhappy.”
Raz nodded. “That seems to be the case sometimes. I’d still rather know. Take my hand.”
Hildolfer extended his hand. They clasped each other’s hands tightly, as Raz pushed energy into the old man as fast as he could harvest it.
The better part of an exhausting hour later, Hildolfer had reached 100%, and Raz was sweaty, panting with exertion.
“Good lord, how big is your energy pool?” I really need to upgrade Transfuse. That extra efficiency is starting to feel important.
The old man smiled sadly. “Not nearly large enough.” With that, he gestured, and most of the surrounding building flew into action, collapsing down into a suit of shimmering black armor covered with silvery arcane runes and symbols. Only the bed Adele rested on and a windbreak around it remained of the structure.
As the boxy trunks vanished, Raz’s weapon was revealed. One set of claws curled into the fist-like club, the other claws, now inert, driven deep into the stone. Next to it was Mercator’s head and arm. Raz knelt and placed his hand on the giant’s head, and began to analyze it. To his dismay, the Beachhead countdown was still active. After a moment of decoding, the status bar revealed it would be complete in ~1500 hours.
The Beachhead countdown was like 2900 hours before, right? Why is it so much less now?
[I have no idea. What worries me is that it’s still going after he’s dead.]
Rivulets of cyan blood and a thicker red-gold liquid emerged from the blue skin under his hand. An absorb prompt appeared.
Is it safe?
[Mercator was not a chimera. It is safe to absorb.]
What he’d spent to fully unlock Might Rank 2: Stabilize was slowly replaced.
Giant blood Catalyst, I hope that isn’t a problem.
[Side note. This is not the first time we’ve received Catalyst from this source.]
It’s not? Huh. Something to look into I guess. How do they have so much Catalyst in them that it can just ooze out like this? How much Catalyst is in these guys?
[No idea, perhaps they require a lot of it.]
With his free hand, Raz stretched over and grabbed the weapon from where it was embedded in the stone. He gave it a pull to see how hard it would be to remove. With shocking ease, the weapon slid out of the stone and nestled into his hand. The ridges and protrusions meant to interface with the gauntlets made it an uncomfortable weapon to hold in his bare hands.
I need to find out what Brock calls this. ‘The weapon’ just feels so vague.
Long after his Catalyst stores were full again, the analysis of Mercator’s severed head finally completed.
[Warning, this analysis will require extended decryption time.]
Raz looked up at Hildolfer. “We’ve got some gear that needs to come with us. Also, can you bring these remains with us?”
The old man nodded. “At full energy, it’s no problem at all.”
Raz watched him shift into the appearance of the younger man again, then glanced over at Adele, where she was sleeping. “So, who are you? And how do you know my mom?”
Hildolfer’s expression went flat. “You’ve already given me what I need, why would I tell you any more than I have to?”
Raz scowled. “So that’s how it—” The old man’s chuckle interrupted his angry response.
Hildolfer’s stern gaze broke into a carefree smile. “Just kidding. I’m sorry. I really am. That was uncalled for. I know you’re still in the head-butting stage with m—Midnight. My memory of this time period is strangely spotty, but I recall that.”
Raz thought about that night in the desert, and the odd scan results, and the old, one-eyed, but still familiar face looking back at him.
Are you done with his analysis? Am I right?
[Yes. There are many differences, but this is clearly Midnight, but also not. I found some interesting evidence we should go over later, that could mean this one is much older than you think. Basically, if the Midnight we know is hundreds of years old, this one must be at least several thousand years old.]
Great, and I’ve just fully powered him up. Let’s hope we’re actually on the same team.
Raz swallowed. “So, I’m trying not to be dense here, but just to be clear, I take it you’re an even older version of Midnight, who is an older version of me?” Raz pinched the bridge of his nose at the very thought.
The old man laughed. “Ah yes, you were so cautious.” The old man extended his hand and clasped Raz around the hand and forearm in an archaic handclasp. “You’re in a rough time right now, but you and I, we’re going to be old friends one day.” He said with a smile. “As for your statement,” Hildolfer scratched his chin in contemplation. “I’m not sure it’s quite so simple. But you’re at least half right. I was him, and presumably, he’ll be me one day. But I wasn’t you, and he wasn’t you either,” the old man looked up at the clear blue sky, “I want to be straight with you. There are things I don’t think I should tell you yet. But even so, I have so much to tell you. All that said, if your questions can wait till we get to Ivaldison Forge, I won't have to repeat myself.”
Minutes later, Raz and Adele sat comfortably in what—from the inside—felt and looked like the cabin of a small but luxurious private jet. Raz could barely believe it when his electrosense told him the entire structure right down to the comfy seats and clear windows was all made of a single piece of metal. He couldn't help but compare the luxurious seats to the cramped, uncomfortable torpedo coffins favored by Midnight.