The bed was luxuriously soft, a cloud in its infancy, and the boy pouted as he pushed himself up from it. No one else was inside the room, other than a motionless sculpture, but as he moved, a burst of prismatic light shone from his chest, lighting up his dull bedroom.
Stifling a yawn, Gaius reached out to Nexus and shook it up and down. The artificial intelligence shook, before making a little meep, a sound that no machine or statue had any mind to be making.
“Swop shaping me!” Nexus exclaimed, its words somewhat slurred. “I’m getting up, getting up!”
The sculpture shook its head, and then gazed around. Gaius could swear that there was a look of confused stupor on its face, despite the fact that said face was carved from wood and whatever new materials that had been added as Nakama continued to modify it.
“Oh. Master Gaius.” The sculpture rubbed its eyes. “Yes, I’ve integrated both Engines into your body. You should be able to feel the effects in around two minutes or so, since both Engines were more of passive effects than anything else. You’re now officially a flying brick.”
“Didn’t know bricks could fire out blasts of energy, but this is Orb,” Gaius replied.
“Orb’s bricks are indeed special, then.” Nexus replied back, with all the earnestness that the boy had employed in his witty reply. “Look at your chest.”
Gaius did as he was told — and in the next moment, nearly released the loudest, manliest scream of his current and previous life, as his skin began to grow at a pace visible to the naked eye. Flesh coloured tendrils reached out to each other, and within seconds, the metal-encased disk of glowing crystal in his chest had been covered over firmly.
“Kids shouldn’t be seeing such a sight, should they?” Gaius took a deep breath, willing himself to not throw up whatever breakfast he’d scoffed down hours ago. The very sight of his injuries healing was disturbing, at best, and it would probably double as a psychological weapon to those who caught sight of it.
The ability to heal one’s own injuries was something from the second Engine that Gaius had received, the Saviour. Contrary to its name, which had given the boy hopes that he would be able to walk around to heal anyone and everyone, it was an Engine focused on the user’s ability to keep fighting. So long as Gaius was still conscious and willing, his wounds would close over time. If he so willed it, he could heal even faster, but such a process was apparently far more painful than simply getting the injury in the first place.
In short, it was something for pain-seekers. Gaius didn’t know if he was one, but at least he didn’t get off on pain…not like his adolescent human body had that function at such an age.
He prodded at the newly-regrown skin. Gaius could feel his finger touching it, which meant that it wasn’t just skin that was regenerated — the flesh, the nerves…everything that made up skin had grown back, and there wasn’t anything wrong with the end product.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Wow.”
“Indeed. That is the right word to use, Master Gaius.” Nexus yawned again. “The Saviour is a very powerful Engine in the hands of somewhat with an undying will. Someone like you, in other words. If you could withstand the pain, you’ll be unstoppable on the battlefield.”
“Even against a Paragon?”
“That does not count, Master Gaius,” replied the artificial intelligence. “But at the risk of inflating your ego, I can tell you that you are now able to resist their full strength, at least for a period of time.”
“Nice to know that my existence won’t be snuffed out that easily now, at least.” Gaius focused his senses, but he couldn’t sense any improvement that the Apex was supposed to give. “What about the Apex? How do I know that my spatial awareness was improved? And my reaction time?”
“First, limits are limits for a reason,” said Nexus. “And the thing you call spatial awareness actually is an ability that enables you to take in information about everything happening in a ten-meter radius all around you.”
“Everything?” Gaius narrowed his eyes.
“Everything,” replied the artificial intelligence. “Still objects, moving objects, air flow…the Apex captures everything, and enables a part of your brain to evaluate all incoming stimuli in an absurdly short period of time.”
Like what Nexus said, Gaius could feel everything around him — from the bed he was lying on to the two ants making out with each other on the wall behind him. It was a novel sensation, but the boy was beginning to understand why the Apex was useful for close-range attackers. Assassins, like the odd woman who had attacked Gaius when he returned, would be far less of an issue.
“Must be my lucky day when I went to Eo-Seu,” Gaius murmured.
“Indeed,” replied Nexus. “But your exemplary performance at the front lines was what ultimately earned you such a reward. To chalk it down to fate isn’t really like you, Master Gaius.”
“Maybe it’s the aftereffects of fighting at the frontlines, against the Lifespring’s troops.” Gaius smiled sadly. “I keep thinking of those who’d died to buy time back then. So many upstanding people, dying like that. It’s…”
The boy fell silent.
“Some feelings just can’t be described, Master Gaius. It’s good that you have them, but it would not do if you were to wallow in those emotions and lose your way. Instead of asking yourself, why not find an answer?”
“Fortune cookie advice?” Gaius smiled, and then laughed. “I’ll think about taking it, alright?”
“Glad to see that you’ve cheered up,” Nexus said. “You people have really volatile emotional states, but I suppose that’s how it is. But it’s good that you’re back to normal now, because there’s something that needs your attention.”
“My attention?”
“Yes,” replied Nexus. “Paragon Sasori is approaching Sundown as we speak. He seems peaceable, but the Map of Stars can only tell me so much.”
The boy sighed. “Well then, let’s get down to it.”