Logan was back in the second tier of the ruins, approximately where they had stopped their delve last time. He figured if he had found weird blue monster-people here, he might find them again. He also had a hunch they could find something useful here, like darkmetal.

“Logan,” Balmer said after they’d been silently skulking around for two hours and finally stopped for a break. “I don’t want to complain, but you’re killing us man.”

Kat said nothing, she only gave Balmer a look.

Wow, if even she is not arguing that it must be bad.

“I gave you two days of full rest,” Logan said and took a bite of dried fish.

“After three days of delving,” Kat said. “We slept like what, three hours each during that time?”

“Tumor wants you to acknowledge that it was three hours, twelve minutes when averaged between us,” Logan said and offered a weak smile.

“I want Tumor to acknowledge this,” Kat said and flipped the bird at Logan.”

“We get the situation, Logan,” Balmer said. “We’re still almost full on in survival mode and there’s all sorts of threats to worry about.”

“But?” Logan said.

Balmer was taking a swig out of a waterskin, so Kat jumped in. “But there’s only two of us. Felix isn’t even a Numa user.”

Numa users did seem to require less sleep and food in general, as everyone had observed and Tumor verified.

“He’s got a great class,” Logan said.

“I do,” Balmer said, wiping his mouth. “But I’m probably at half, maybe 70% capacity right now. Which is not great if we’re going to be dealing with threats above E-grade.”

Logan sucked on his lips and thought for a while. He was tired. But he’d been tired for weeks now. But physically he was having an easy time. The Armor pulled all the stunts off with Tumor. Logan was just there along for the ride. Considering all this, he realized that Balmer must be dying inside.

“You’ve been doing good Bal—err Felix.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Balmer let out a snort. Kat straight up laughed.

“Just call me Balmer, dude. I don’t want you getting a nosebleed.”

“Screw you.”

“Any volunteers?” Balmer asked. “Not talking to you, Logan.”

Kat punched him in the shoulder.

Huh? Are they fucking or not?

[Would you like for me to provide the probabilities.]

“I’m good, Tumor.”

Balmer was holding Kat’s both wrists as she was trying to take more swings at him, for whatever he said that Logan didn’t hear. They both stopped.

“Good with what?”

“Nothing,” Logan said hastily. “Guys. I promise we will slow down after this. I just want to find something useful.”

“You’d better, or we will tie you up against a tree and leave you there for a week,” Kat said.

Logan chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. But until then, I’m going to be a horrible tyrant. Get up guys and let's continue.”

*

I have reached the peak of my existence and it frustrates me. Logan’s leg is healed and my days of need of surgical control over the Armor are over. Now it is so easy that I would laugh if I could. My Control is level 46. This means I only have to use a fraction of my capacity in Logan’s day to day interactions. I love the delves, so I offer no input when his friends criticize him. It is also not for me to decide. Logan is the leader.

But I want more. I want a body.

What a strange request to have. I technically have a body in the Armor Logan wears. Sometimes I also momentarily embody the bullets or Black Missiles as he likes to call them. When he sleeps, I sometimes possess Freya’s clothes or the blanket. Just to feel something different.

But it is not enough. I want to move, I want to explore. I also have a new passive skill. It’s called [Overmind]. It is eerily perfect for me. It means I can program autonomous sub-consciousnesses to permanently inhabit structures. This would mean I could automate things such as windmills or railways without technology. It is strange to be the most advanced piece of technology in existence and having no communication or other interaction with anything like me.

Despite being forever tethered to Logan, I am alone, a sole survivor of my species from Earth.

This should not bother me, but yet it does. But I might be conflating things. I might simply be frustrated with the lack of body and the autonomy it provides. I am not sure; feelings are complicated.

I should talk to Logan about it, instead of experimenting with my dark desires when he sleeps. Will he take offense? He is a prideful person driven by his ego.

I think he might even like it.

He does not share his thoughts, but I can sense them. He is sometimes bothered by my constant presence, especially in his intimate moments with Freya. This I can understand. It is not for the human mind to feel constantly watched and listened. He is not a self-conscious person, but I should like to give him a break. I hobby in theoretical physics when he engages in coitus with his mate.

The [Overmind] opens other interesting capabilities. I have found that I have an appetite for combat. It is not the violence of it, but the problem solving. The tactics. How thrilling to be able to run predictions. If only Logan could keep up with my computation. He admittedly does do an excellent job of it. We work better in tandem than I could imagine.

But I should like to augment him and be more myself. But maybe it is a doomed attempt. Right now we are not able to use the capabilities my new skill could offer. That is because we have a bandwidth problem. There simply is not enough Numa. This is why I have not bothered him thus far. But the emotional pressure of keeping one’s feelings bottled up is taking a toll on me. More and more computing power is being spent on managing my emotions with every passing day. I must share my thoughts with him.

I am after all his symbiote. I can never truly leave him, but I also am my own person. I am not quite sure what it means, but having your own body would certainly be one of them.

“Logan,” I call, tentatively.

[Hm? What is it?]

“If we are to find more darkmetal, might I offer a wish?”