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War-Forged

I… was going to prepare myself while I still could. I left my kriegsmesser in my house and I needed to do some weapon maintenance on it if I was going to use it as one of my main weapons. Once the storms started, the roads would be flooded up to my waist. I needed to pack as much as I could into my truck before the 2nd phase of the apocalypse started or I'd be stuck up literal shit-creek without a fucking paddle. (Ethos).

Seras leaned back while taking a few deep calming breaths to tame my raging libido. “Oh? Still resisting?” She slid off my lap like a snake when I moved to jump off the workbench.

“Got no time for fun, yet,” I smirked and waved her off. Seras rolled her eyes then disappeared into motes of light that melded into the System Menu. I dismissed it with a thought to clear my vision and started hauling ass. Now that I could endure the extreme temperatures without dying, there was no point in waiting until the heatwave died down. Once it dropped to around 150F, the atmosphere’s temperature would plummet into a more survivable range until the rain started to fall.

I pulled out my 3-day bugout bag along with my two fully stocked dufflebags first and loaded them into my truck. I set my after-market SINCGARS into my opened glove compartment for easy comms access. Survival gear, rations, and ammunition came next. The final piece was my portable generator, which I loaded into the trunk along with several hundred pounds of other equipment and taped a camouflage pattern tarp over all of it to keep it as dry as possible. My trunk’s tires visibly sank from the weight.

I grabbed the kriegsmesser, wiped and oiled it, then set it gently into the passenger’s seat along with my M4A1. I selected several weapons from my personal stash including a Benelli M4, an M110A3, and a Barret XM500. My M4A1 was still my versatile, do-it-all duty rifle, but specific weapon systems would be better under specific circumstances. I had plenty of space, so there was no reason not to bring them along. I function-checked all of them, oiled them, and loaded them so they were combat-ready at a moment’s notice.

Already my house’s overall temperature was dropping by tens of degrees, which meant the atmospheric cool-off started. For now, I’d need to get to the highest point in Texas, weather the hurricanes, and reassess my situation. Part of me wanted to stay and see if I could survive in my house, but if I was wrong and it did flood, I’d be stranded. I didn’t own a boat and I didn’t plan for that type of survival situation, so leaving was my best option until I could reevaluate the weather and terrain. I shoved all of my remaining weapons, and anything else I might want to salvage into my air-tight gun locker and hauled it into my basement. If I ever did come back, this would be my first stop.

Just as I was about to leave the basement one last time, my eye caught on a forgotten pile of prosthetics on my workbench. I meandered over with a nostalgic smile and picked one up with my new, right hand. The prosthetic arm was lightweight and had a single prong. It was for guitar playing. When I was lost and had nothing but time, I decided to try and learn how to play guitar. It never went anywhere, but the elation I felt when I played my first song gave me the courage to try new hobbies.

“Thanks,” I looked down at the gathering of prosthetics. “Y’all were my closest friends.”

I was about to set the arm down when I noticed my fingers were melting into the prosthetic like some kind of metallic liquid straight out of Terminator 2.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! Shit!” I tried to use my good arm to rip off the prosthetic but it was already halfway absorbed into my arm. “Seras! Seras!” I panicked, and tears fell freely. I couldn’t lose this new limb. My soul couldn’t bear another amputation. I'd rather take my Benelli M4 and shoot myself in the face with a 12-gauge. Ending my misery quickly would be a mercy in comparison to gaining and losing another arm. Hope, when given and snatched away, was worse than despair, I learned at that moment.

“Submit to the System, William,” Seras’ voice echoed through my mind, a haunting, ghostly melody within the spiral of depression and trauma I found myself in.

With a mix of a scream and a gasp, I uncurled the vice grip my left hand had on the rapidly disappearing prosthetic. I watched, in horror and fascination, as the artificial arm disappeared into my new one, devoured. My right arm then reformed as if nothing changed, although a series of prompts appeared in my vision.

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«War-Forged Legacy activated. The user gains greater power by absorbing artificial body parts.»

«You now gain Attribute and/or Skill Points for every artificial body part you absorb.»

«You may choose to gain either an Attribute or a Skill Point after the absorption process is complete»

«Skill Points can only be used on Skills that are Sourced from War-Forged.»

«Absorbing artificial body parts with a similar form and/or function to any you have already absorbed will be converted to Experience instead.»

«Low Charisma and repeated use of this Legacy will warp the user’s mind.»

I dove into the System and activated my character sheet.

«You have gained a War-Forged Legacy Point. Select an Attribute or a Skill to Upgrade.»

I licked my lips and selected Augmented Body (Organic) and grinned hungrily when a slew of options dropped down through a Menu. One immediately caught my eye and I selected it. The upgrade added another line below the Skill Description:

«The user can now create Mana-Wires from their augmented parts. Length and number are based on the amount of MP expended.»

I was about to ask Seras how to use my new Upgrade, but the moment I desired it, a thin, gray wire shot out of my wrist. I caught it with my other hand and marveled at how thin it was. I could barely see it. I noticed my MP decreased by 1, so that meant I could create a total of 10 feet. I rolled up my pants and shot a wire from my shin to test the application and flexibility. I nodded in satisfaction and then dismissed the wire hanging from my leg. It shattered into motes of light. Mana or MP had to replace or augment the laws of physics, somehow. I didn’t bother wrapping my head around it. Just because I knew how to shoot a rifle didn’t mean I knew how to machine one out of scratch. All I needed to understand were the System’s practical applications.

I took a metal pipe sitting on my workbench and lashed the wrist wire against it. The wire dug about 3 inches into the pipe. Then I tried to manipulate it with my mind. The wire responded to my thoughts like a third leg. It took me a bit of practice, but I managed to tie the wire into a neat bow with only my mental commands. Then I wrapped it around the pipe and squeezed until the wire cut it in half.

I gazed at the wire and gently gripped it with my left hand but noticed it did not cut into me no matter how I slid across it. It was like a part of my own body, so I guessed it wouldn’t hurt me unless I specifically ordered it to. I expanded the wire to 5 feet and wrapped it around my armchair and squeezed tightly then pulled it back to inspect the damage. Other than pressure and stretch marks, the wires didn’t cut through the soft leather. I could somehow control if the wires inflicted damage, like how I could control a kick or a punch. The wires were part of me.

I laid a wire flat across my workbench and took a box cutter to it.

One touch was enough for me to flinch and I pulled the box cutter away. I could also feel sensations through the wire. That was both a positive and a negative. The wires could serve as an offensive weapon, but I couldn’t even imagine the pain I’d suffer if they were cut or ripped in half.

A thunderclap drew me out of my thoughts and ended my experiments. It was going to rain soon. Seras suddenly appeared on top of the workbench. She crossed her legs over the edge and laid one arm on the pile of prosthetics like a game-show model showcasing a prize. Her silver hair fell like a curtain over the pile and her red eyes glowed brightly with anticipation. The invitation couldn’t be more obvious. I had 29 prosthetics in total. 12 pairs of legs for various activities, and 5 for my right arm.

I…

  A)...absorbed them all. I lived a half-life for too long. This was my shot at becoming greater than I’d ever been before. (Pathos +2; War-Forged 30/30 > Rank up to D)

  B)...absorbed half and packed the rest for later, maybe. I wasn’t entirely sure what would happen to my mind if I consumed them all. Doing it gradually would be best (Logos +2; War-Forged 15/30).

  C)...couldn’t afford to forsake my humanity just for power. This type of strength was like an addictive drug. The results would be obvious: it’d consume me as I consumed it. There’s no telling what I would become afterward. These new limbs were enough. I’d rely on something less dangerous to survive. (Ethos; War-Forged 1/30)

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