Ripples 4.6

2000, August 25: Washington, DC, USA

I felt better now that I had my Ymelo. I kept the glowy tennis ball in my pocket at all times, a safety measure against emotional masters. It was basically my security blanket now. If it ever activated automatically, I'd start dematerializing and ask questions never.

I arrived at the lab early in the morning and got through Metalmaru's intensive testing regimen by ten. According to him, it'd take another few hours before he could figure out how to best incorporate Petricite into an alloy. Then, he'd need a few more hours to actually craft the metal. Finally, we'd have to undergo all the same tests all over again to make sure that we had what we aimed for in the first place.

Seeing how I was no longer any help, I returned to my station and tried to incorporate all the lessons Glace had taught me about capacitors and temperatures into my Blitzshield. Before her extensive instruction, I only vaguely knew that lowering a material's temperature reduced its resistivity and that if you lowered the temperature enough, you could sometimes get a superconductor. There was a surprising amount of nuance that high school physics had glossed over and I was happy to find most of it meshed with the knowledge I'd gleaned from the likes of Jayce and Dr. Heimerdinger.

Using the materials provided by Glace and Metalmaru, I was able to make better hextech capacitors that stored energy longer. In that sense, removing the prototype Hex Core was a good idea. Like this, I could have my shield store Mana Crystals like bullets in a magazine and recharge the capacitors directly as needed.

There was one more thing that made me feel really stupid. Proof positive that even having a slice of infinity stuck to my soul didn't make me any more detail-oriented. I'd forgotten the cardinal rule of tinkertech: Never make something that can be used against you. An omnidirectional EMP that shorted out all tech in a city block could, and would, fuck over anything I built as well.

It's not like I lived on Summoner's Rift. Friendly fire was very much on.

This wasn't a huge problem at the moment because I didn't have any hextech besides my multi-tool and I wouldn't be bringing that on patrols, but it would be eventually if I didn't redesign it. I needed a way to either harden my tech against EMPs, or make my EMP more selective, a short-out laser of some sort instead of an omni-directional wave. Or better yet, both.

Hero was off in New York for a meeting with Legend, something about the Butcher causing problems and how they wanted to deal with the inheritance mechanic of his Shard, but he wasn't the only expert on wave motion in the lab. The thought of a Butcher-Hero hybrid sent shivers down my spine, but I consoled myself with the fact that it wasn't September yet. Shit wouldn't go down until the Founders met up with Manton.

Putting my future worries aside, I headed to Bluesong's station.

Bluesong was a tall, Nigerian woman in her late twenties who wore her hair in long cornrows that touched her hip. She had a lithe build accentuated by a skintight bodysuit, ocean-blue with white, wave-patterned highlights, another work of Hero's. The logo on her breast was a cartoonish blue whale and a music note. Her most notable feature was a multi-layered shawl that reminded me of the aurora. It was decked out in so many sensors that she could hear a cricket chirp from a mile away if she so chose. She was like Hero in that she too dealt with wavelengths, though her power seemed to focus almost exclusively on sound and fluid dynamics, hence her name.

The woman was much beloved. I heard from Metalmaru's gossip-mongering that she was born in Nigeria. When she triggered, her condition for joining Hero's burgeoning tinker collective was that he escort every last person in her village to safety in the United States and provide them a new life. He, in a move counter to everything I'd come to expect of Earth-Bet, did. Since then, she became the pillar of her community. Technically speaking, more people knew her secret identity than anyone else in the Protectorate, but her shield was the unshakable loyalty her village had towards her.

It didn't hurt that she was capable of crafting far-reaching sonars. With the advent of Leviathan, she became the cornerstone in an international warning network. I suspected that Dragon and Armsmaster would take pointers from her in their own efforts.

Such an important woman wasn't likely to be targeted, not that she was a slouch in a fight herself. Sound could really fuck up a person and her tinker-eight classification proved it. Resonant frequency wasn't a joke.

"Hey, Bluesong," I called as I walked into her station. It was immaculate, with countless pieces of equipment kept on neat shelves. Most of it looked like some sort of cross between steampunk and radar systems, possibly a hybrid of her water and sound specializations. "Oceanpunk," if that was a thing. A large stuffed whale, a gift from her old village, sat in a place of prominence on her writing desk.

"Yes, Hyunmu? How may I help you?" she spoke. Her voice had a thick accent, completely genuine unlike my bullshit PR gimmick. It lent her voice a smooth, sultry quality that I knew Metalmaru appreciated.

Man really talked too much…

"You're good with wavelengths, right?"

"You could say that."

"Well, I was hoping you could help me focus this," I said, holding up the Blitzshield. "When I originally made it, it was supposed to act as a wide-area EMP. But now…"

"Now you've realized that bigger lightshows do not make for a more effective hero," she finished for me. At my nod, she smiled. "You are learning, my young friend. That's good. A scalpel is far more versatile than a bomb."

"I know you mostly do sound, but sound disperses too. Can you help me?"

She thought about it, then looked at the three pounds of Petricite on her desk. I had no idea what she wanted with it, but she did owe me a favor. "I don't know how much help I can be. You will likely have to ask Hero for help once he returns, but I can show you a little bit of what I've been working on. Maybe you'll have a breakthrough by observing."

"That's great. Thanks, Bluesong."

"Don't mention it, my friend. This is what I'm here for." She took out a gun as large as her arm. It was long and sleek, with a satellite dish at the end instead of a muzzle. "This is a sonic rifle. It focuses vibrations and launches a wave of high frequency sound so dense that it can be felt like a physical force. It was the first thing I ever made so I could never bring myself to tear it apart. Now, listen closely…"

X

Bluesong was a phenomenal teacher. Admittedly, many of the concepts she talked about flew over my head. Multivariable refraction quotient of sound across different dimensions? Yeah, no way in hell; just seeing that equation made me want to inject some Shimmer and jump off the roof. Even so, what I could understand did give me several ideas.

I was inspired.

Heh.

It wasn't that I fully grasped her specialization. Rather, speaking with her jogged memories within the World Rune, giving me a hint as to who and what I should be diving for.

She interspersed her lesson with stories from her childhood, including building a special alarm system that released subvocalizations that deterred elephants from her village's crops without harming the animals. They were fascinating to hear about and I could see why she was so widely respected.

Soon after, I returned to my own station and put some of my new ideas to paper. What I needed was a focusing lens that could condense Blitzcrank's immense electrical charge into a beam without losing cohesion over long distances in the same way she did with her sound. Or at least, make it so that the damage area was a cone rather than a sphere. What little I could comprehend from her lecture helped.

Zeri. I turned to the Runeterran pikachu.

The Spark of Zaun had an innate affinity for lightning magic, so much so that she had trouble controlling it in her youth. Every time she so much as giggled, electricity would run wild. As impressive as that was, I wasn't too interested in her personal magic. Rather, it was her weapon I had my nonexistent eyes on.

Much like Bluesong's, Zeri's story was a story about community, unity and fellowship amidst hardship and strife.

She once waged a one-gal war against the chem-barons of Zaun and made such a nuisance of herself that she forced feuding barons to unite to stamp her out. They almost succeeded and destroyed her neighborhood in retaliation. In response, her family and neighbors banded together to pool their resources and expertise. Her mother built her a rifle, one that could be fueled by her emotions, launching an unending salvo of electricity.

And the best part of all this? It was made by civilians. Sure, skilled tradesmen who grew up around hextech, but still civilians. They weren't genii who would go on to change the course of history; they were just normal people. The rifle wasn't some incredibly advanced tech like Viktor's Hex Core or some divine enchantment like Soraka's banana-launcher. It was just that, a rifle that focused electricity. I could build it rather cheaply.

Yes, talking to other tinkers was an excellent idea.

X

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I finished the Blitzshield's internals around four in the afternoon. It cost me a working lunch, but that was fine, it wasn't like I had any other obligations.

Metalmaru called and told me that a secondary project blew up on him, metaphorically, always needed to clarify in the Madhouse, and that he likely wouldn't be done with the Petricite testing until tomorrow.

With several hours to kill and both Hero and Metalmaru busy, I dedicated the time to a more personal project. Namely, keeping Hero from starring in the history section.

'How does one defeat the Siberian?' I asked myself, then immediately amended my query. 'Or really, I don't need to kill Manton, just keeping Hero alive would be enough for me...'

One option was simply to give him Gwen's scissors. It wouldn't be too much of a hassle to finish them. The Siberian projection ignored any and every physical law at will. It was Assault, Madcap pre-canon, on steroids. So, it stood to reason then that a weapon that could impart force that wasn't physical would be able to kill or dispel the Siberian. Gwen's scissors, being spiritual weapons, should lie outside the scope of the Shard's power, if not necessarily its understanding.

But… That only gave Hero the chance to fight back. It didn't mean he'd escape alive. If anything, giving him something like that might make him more aggressive in the name of preventing other casualties. As callous as it was, the rest didn't matter. Eden's version of Stilling did.

The second option was to somehow guarantee Hero's survival with an immensely powerful defensive item. Zhonya's Hourglass was practically the go-to item for survivability. And, it might even work. Shards didn't stop time, not really. The theory was complex, but I knew that "time stop" as a concept was just elaborate dimensional fuckery on their part. This was true of Phir Se, Gray Boy, and Clockblocker. And I knew for a fact that Clock's "time stop" versus the Siberian resulted in the cancellation of both powers.

Even if the hourglass could be broken by the Siberian, Manton would be forced to remake the projection, giving Hero precious seconds to escape.

That did seem like the ideal pick but… I couldn't build it. There wasn't a damn thing on Earth Bet with that kind of conceptual weight and I was loathe to try without the Commencing Stopwatch to start me off.

Zilean was a freak of nature and he had no business existing in the first place. I personally chalked it up to the general fuckery of Icathian mages. A nation of idiot-savants who looked at the Void and said "Let's open it!" shouldn't be taken as the norm of anything. And yes, that was coming from the child with a slice of infinity grafted to his soul.

So, if I wanted to keep Hero alive without resorting to timey-wimey shenanigans, I would need to remove Hero from the situation completely. Then, I would have to have a healing potion powerful enough to fix any injuries incurred, up to and including bisection, a true Elixir of Life.

There were several ways to teleport someone, but the best, the Worldstone and Wayfinder, came from the Sentinels. The Worldstone was an enchanted map used by the Sentinels of Light. It was a map of Runeterra which tracked the Black Mist. It, alongside the Wayfinder, allowed a certain Rookie Sentinel to teleport his teammates around the world and confront the Black Mist.

Cauldron had Doormaker of course, but they didn't use it to save Hero. Why? Was Manton's pseudo-trigger enough to muddle Contessa's sight? If I had to guess, Leviathan's attack a mere day after coupled with Manton's vial clouded her Path. It was truly the kind of freak accident I could only expect from Earth-Bet. I couldn't think of any other reason than that, no way she would have sacrificed Hero unless she had no say in the matter.

My own teleporter would be far more limited, but it could work. The Worldstone was able to scan all of Runeterra the way it did because of the mana in the air, a far greater application of the principle behind the Control Wards. But even with the mana-poor environment of Earth-Bet, it could still act as an anchor, a beacon for the Wayfinder to latch on to.

A Wayfinder that led back to HQ. It'd only lead back to HQ, but it would suffice.

The Worldstone and Wayfinder would be my priorities moving forward. Then, I'd craft the Elixir of Life, or as close as I can get with my current abilities.

With enough mana, it was possible to elevate the corrupted Water of Life I had back to its original state, as pure as it was when Maokai first found it. Pair that with the bioengineering knowledge Singed used to create Warwick and… It was doable, a potion that could keep Hero alive post-bisection.

Best of all, everything started with the Water of Life. It made the refining process a bit tedious, but a simplified procurement pipeline was always best.

I put in the order for many more gallons of holy water and got to work.

X

I sat in my private lab, the basement of my new house. It wasn't much. Perhaps I was being a bit hasty calling it a lab. Really, there was a hot plate and kettle with a set of pipes and beakers for distilling potions ingredients, a water dispenser with a five gallon tank half full of holy water, and a small collection of boards of a variety of woods for engraving practice. It was basic, but I could get away with it for the most part thanks to the multi-tool.

My phone was propped up against a book, the screen revealing Penelope's smiling face. On their end, Jazz had her phone on a call to Albuquerque as well. It was ten in DC, eight in Albuquerque, and seven in Phoenix.

This wasn't the first time I spoke with my old teammates. We agreed to keep in touch once a week so Friday evenings became our scheduled time to reconnect. Truthfully, we spent most of this time watching a movie or playing games; none of us were particularly good with emotions and my and David's departure was still raw between us.

"Hey, Penny," I greeted. "Are Jaz and Raquel there?"

The phone was pointed towards my old leader's smiling face one second then I was peering up into Raquel's nostril the next. "Yup! Hey, Andy!"

"Hey, give my phone back," my old leader complained.

"I just wanna say hi."

"You have very long nose hairs," I said dryly.

"Eep!"

The phone fell, only to be snatched up by Penelope.

"Just kidding"

"Thanks, Andy," she chuckled.

"Boo, jerk."

"I still have no idea how you can see faces through a screen," Jazz remarked from the side somewhere. "I mean, tinkers are bullshit, but come on. Oh, and Dave's on."

"Hey guys," David called. His voice sounded a bit tinny through the disjointed connection.

"Hey, David. I'm just more bullshit than other people," I said proudly.

"Clearly. So, chico, what'chu been up to? ¿Qué pasa?"

"Rebranded as Hyunmu. It's this black turtle thing from Asian mythology. I've been working on something I call the Ymelo, something to keep me from getting mastered or kidnapped again."

"Ooh! I saw your debut. You had a funny accent and everything," Raquel chirped. "Was that on purpose?"

"Does Andy ever do anything on accident?" Penelope laughed. "I can't imagine that was your idea though. PR?"

"PR," I confirmed. "How about you guys? You do anything special? How's Albuquerque, David?"

"I've been busier ever since I got into the Protectorate. New SOPs. Moving in. Finding a school for Josie. You know. Things are a lot calmer here though. Josie's setting in well; the director even helped me arrange a nanny for her." Even through the line I could hear the exhaustion in his voice. Still, there was palpable relief in his tone.

"I'm glad," I said honestly. "If you need anything…"

"I know, Andy. I know you have my back."

"Hey," Raquel cut in, obviously trying to draw us away from heavier topics. "Did you know Jazz got asked out?"

"Oi!"

"Oh, right!" Penelope crowed with delight. "You know Poundtown, right?"

"Yeah, did you give him the shovel talk?" David asked, going along with the change. "Agent Carter might let you borrow her pistol, you know, just as a prop."

"Psh, please. I can punch holes through a car. I don't need a gun. Besides, he seemed like a sweet boy. Looks all big and tough but a big teddy bear inside."

I nodded as I sketched out draft number eight of the Sunstone Talisman. "Yeah, that's the impression I got from him too. Did you know he volunteers for every PR tour around orphanages and elementary schools? Guy loves kids."

"I did know that actually. Anyway, Jazz, you say yes?"

"No… I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, he's not a bad guy and he's not ugly or anything, but…"

"It's fine," David said. "Dating's complicated enough without a mask between you guys. Take your time."

"Thanks, David," she said, perhaps with a bit more than gratitude. For all that had happened, I was glad that at least something had remained consistent. Still wasn't touching that with Wukong's pole.

The conversation died for a bit before Penelope picked it back up. "Oh! I got to punch some new villain named Shakedown in the face. He was really surprised when his power stopped working for a second."

"Yep. Getting decked with Petricite will do that. You have to keep holding on to him though."

"I know. I did… after I fed him his teeth."

"I'm sensing a lot of unresolved aggression here…"

"Heh, I remember that. He called her a gym-slut," Jazz snorted. She then realized who she was talking to and said lamely, "Ah, that's um… a not nice word."

"I can guess," I said dryly. "How 'bout you, Raquel?"

The current youngest Phoenix Ward shrugged. "Oh, you know. I've just been hanging out. The wildfire died down so it's been much more relaxed lately. Turned fourteen, had a birthday party. No big."

"Oh, right. Happy birthday. August twenty-second, right? Sorry I didn't get you anything."

"Don't worry about it. Say, you joined that fancy tinker lab run by Hero, right?"

"Yeah, we call it the Madhouse here. You want his autograph or something?"

"Already have it. He dropped by on his tour of the Wards bases last year. I just wanted to know how it was."

"A ton of work," I drawled. I picked up my phone and adjusted the camera so it hovered over the sketchpad. "I'm still drawing drafts while I'm talking to you guys, see?"

"Ooh, what's that? Is it a badge for something?"

"Kind of. It's a talisman. One time use only, but it can cleanse someone's mind of any master effects."

Jazz let out a whistle. "That's going to be huge. Mind sending any of those our way? Dos Caras is still a pain." Although she'd never been Wards Leader, Jazz was one of the best informed among all of the Wards thanks to the many literal and not so literal hats she wore. Her social circle was wider than anyone else's so she tended to hear more gossip and grasp the broader implications faster than the others.

"Definitely," I agreed easily. I made a note to send a package of potions as well. Rubedo might have been retired from the public eye, but it wouldn't be strange for the now heavily guarded tinker to send his old team a care package every now and then.

I allowed the conversation to wash over me like gentle waves as I carefully etched the sketch pattern onto plywood for practice. The real deal would be carved into Sunstone then alchemically infused with mana, but it was always good to know I could actually do the carving before I ruined something more expensive.

The five of us eventually agreed to shelve further talks in favor of a movie. I headed to the living room and turned it on before muting the phone. Just knowing we were watching something together helped. As per rotation, David got to choose and his pick was The Temple of Doom, the first Indiana Jones movie. He wasn't okay, far from it, but I thought he was getting better. That was all I could ask.

By the time I needed to turn in for bed, I had a good idea of what the runework should look like.

Author's Note

I have no idea how to describe a Nigerian accent. I've heard it a few times, but damn if it's hard to put to text. Hopefully I'm not poking anyone's buttons.

The Wayfinder is a weapon built specifically for a rookie sentinel during the Rise of the Sentinels event. Though the Rookie is not a playable character, you choose their dialogue.

And yeah, I agree. The conversation with the old crew was a long time coming. I think that if I were to release multiple arcs simultaneously, people would be able to read through them all at once, but because you're forced to put up with the segmented release, you all felt like there wasn't much closure between them. It's a fair criticism, and one I feel that the fanfiction medium doesn't support well. I can really only keep writing. Just know that just because I dropped a plot threads in Phoenix doesn't mean I've decided to burn them. I'm very much aware that they're there.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.