Surge 3.7

2010, November 4: Brockton Bay, NH, USA

I arrived at the usual lunch table to find only Stephanie and Chelsea there before me. The two were already lost in a conversation about a new movie premier, the latest in the Maggie Holt series. I didn't follow it much, but from what I could understand, it was the equivalent of Harry Potter back in my old world crossed with the Dresden Files. Darker, as though Grimlord Wildbow had a hand in writing that too. It was quite the thriller according to Sisi.

I set my tray next to Chelsea and gave them a nod. "Hey, how's it going?"

"Hi, Bryce!" Chelsea chirped, as sunny as ever. "Guess what?"

I glanced at Stephanie and back at her. "You're really looking forward to the new Maggie Holt film?"

"Nope," she said, popping the "p." "Well, yep, but not that."

"You're seeing that runningback guy again?"

"No, and his name is Brian. You really should remember, Bryce. He's a good guy, just not what I'm looking for. "

"In my defense, I've met him once during Homecoming, Chels. I'm sure if he sat with us, I'd learn his name."

Stephanie let out an unladylike snort. "Fat chance of that. She dumped him in two weeks."

"Steph! We mutually agreed to walk away. We're cool now."

"Does he think that? Because I still see him pining your way."

"Ugh… Anyway, no, not Brian."

I pat the blonde's shoulder consolingly before unwrapping a brownie. It wasn't as good as mom's and had a processed, artificial flavor that reminded me a bit of plastic, but sugar was sugar. Sometimes, you just had to start with dessert first. I chewed and gave her a conceding bow. "Then you have me bamboozled, madam."

Chelsea perked up as she thought about the original reason for this little game of twenty questions. "The cheer team is going to regionals!"

I tried to give her my sincerest smile. It obviously didn't fool Stephanie because she let out a soft snort. "Yeah, Chels, I don't think Bryce cares about the cheer team."

"Boo! He should. It's about school spirit!"

"I care," I defended, but quickly caved when even the sunny blonde looked skeptical. "Okay, not about the team per se, but I care that it matters to you. You're my friend and I'm happy that it makes you happy. Go, Arcadia…"

Stephanie shot me a shark-like grin. "You forgot our mascot, didn't you?"

"I didn't! It's the Arcadia… Aardvarks?"

"Not even close, Bryce."

"Boo! You suck, Bryce," Chelsea lightly punched my shoulder.

"Alligators?" I tried again.

"Nope."

"Nu-uh"

"Third time's the charm. Arcadia… Armadillos. Sounds right."

"Wrong again."

"Third strike. You're out!"

I sighed and decided to just shut up and accept my shame. "Alright, oh great cheerful ones, what is our totem animal?"

Stephanie chuckled as she popped a berry tomato in her mouth. "Totem animal? Really?"

"Yeah, Bryce, you're really bad at this, huh?" Chelsea added. She'd packed a turkey sandwich from home from the looks of it.

"What's Bryce bad at?" I heard behind me. Dennis, Dean, and Carlos had arrived to sit at my right. "Making fun of Bryce is always great."

"Shut up, Dennis," I grumbled goodnaturedly.

"Bryce doesn't know what our mascot is~" Chelsea sang, in the exact same singsong tone Sierra used to use when tattling to mom.

"Dean, what's our mascot?"

"Albatross," he said simply. "The birds are good omens for sailors, back when that was important to the town. It's kind of a holdover like the Foghorn radio channel."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yup. What'd you guess?"

"Aardvarks. Then alligators. And armadillos."

"Haha, you weren't even close, huh?"

"Whatever, I would've gotten to albatross eventually. Only so many animals that start with 'a.' Point is," I stressed, turning back to the girls. "I'm happy that the Arcadia Albatrosses have made it to the regional cheer competition. Just because I don't care about the team as a whole doesn't mean I can't be happy that you two are happy."

"Fine," Chelsea said with a mouthful of turkey sandwich. "We forgive you, Bryce."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "We're just giving the freshie a hard time. Don't stress, shorty."

"Oi! I'm not short," I complained. Five-two wasn't short… for my age… probably…

"You are. But we forgive you for that too," the sporty brunette shot back with a teasing grin.

I sighed and turned my attention back to my lunch. It seemed I was destined to be the butt of the joke today. Eventually, Vicky and Amy arrived, earning me a knowing look from Amy as far as just why I knew so little about the school's sports scene. I shook my head ruefully. I'd never cared even before powers, but I could hardly correct her assumptions currently.

Still, all things must end and the conversation shifted to encompass the double date Victoria and Dean were planning with Stephanie and Carlos. I looked on in amusement as a mixture of relief and exasperation danced across Amy's face. Relief because Stephanie and Carlos gave Vicky another couple to focus her attention on, sparing Amy from another date with some jock she could barely bother to learn the name of. Exasperation because… because Amy was Amy and Dean existed.

'Nope,' I thought with a snort. 'Not touching that with a ten foot pole.'

X

Thursdays were great. Thursdays were wonderful. I got out of school at two and wasn't expected home until six for dinner. I also had no work-study obligations on Thursdays, which meant I had a whopping four hours to my own devices.

That was how I found myself on the Gullrest. I hopped across the ocean on my hover boots while completely invisible before sneaking into the main lab. Uncloaking, I tossed my backpack onto a stolen loveseat and greeted SAINT.

"Yo, how's it going, little buddy?"

"Pory-gon," he trilled a welcome. My favorite cyber-duck gestured to a rack where a Gregor-sized suit of Germa fibers was ready and waiting. Next to it were a few extra spools of the miracle thread, tightly wrapped in cable reels I'd stolen from the hardware store. Cable reels, those drum-shaped wooden things you used to wrap wires around, made for excellent spools after the wires had been removed.

"You've done a lot of work haven't you? Thank you for that," I nodded to him. I gave him a good scratch below the chin to show my appreciation as I looked over his work. The weaving process was mostly automatic, he was here to make sure no glitches popped up, and that left him enough time to get to work on other things, like the wires.

The wires were precious commodities and actually some of the most important things I'd stolen from the Hillside Heist. Most were made of copper, steel, and aluminum, but I'd even managed to nick several reels of silver wire. They were excellent sources of raw metal and it wasn't uncommon for people at construction sites to strip the casings off leftover wires to recycle for a sizable amount of cash.

SAINT trilled happily as he showed off the crates full of naked metal, sorted by type. He then lifted the laptop I got for him and played something. It was a song with loud, heavy bass and a cello in the background. It was accompanied by a full orchestral blend of violins, flutes, and piano. It reminded me a bit of boss music in video games like Final Fantasy or God of War. Was electronic-orchestra a thing in this world? Because if not, SAINT might have just invented it.

"Pory?"

"It's good," I told him. I wasn't lying. I only knew guitar and a bit of piano so I couldn't really judge, but SAINT had no preconceptions about the "right" instrument to play or the "best" style of music so he often pulled melodies from many different songs to use as he fancied. Not quite my jam, but if he liked it, he liked it. "Interesting blend of instruments. Electronic drums. Cello. Is that a sax? Huh, it works. Do you want to play that in the background while we work?"

"Gon!"

"Yeah, sounds good. Keep it on loop, maybe a bit quieter."

SAINT nodded and the music subsided somewhat. He switched the tabs on screen to show me my to-do list. Well, it wasn't a list of priorities as much as it was a list of things I wanted to build: a hybrid regalia I'd yet to name, data sticks for Key Mother, and hybrid soda engines to send over to Big Rig and Uppercrust.

"First things first, the hybrid engines. SAINT, think you can build them?"

"Reee," he chirped, stubby, blue feet waving erratically. It was one part affirmation and one part mock offense that I'd doubt him.

"Of course, of course. You can build anything I can build," I chuckled. It was true, for the most part. There were some things he wasn't good at, such assembling small, precise mechanical parts, but that was mostly because he hadn't mastered Psychic quite yet and the little fella didn't have opposable thumbs. SAINT was perfectly capable of following a blueprint left to him otherwise.

"Porygon. Por," he huffed. I didn't quite speak pokémon, but the "and don't you forget it" couldn't be taken any other way.

My duck was developing sass and I couldn't be prouder.

"Alright, you work on the two hybrid engines. I'll get started on Key Mother. Then the data sticks and the Inorganic Net. And then we can work on a custom regalia."

"Gon."

"Good, let's see how much work we can get done in four hours."

X

Turned out, four hours was a lot of time. We worked quietly side by side while SAINT's first pop orchestra track played in the background.

SAINT wasn't perfect. He didn't have my power to keep him from making mistakes. But, he was an AI capable of constantly learning. He'd also observed the experimentation process I'd undergone to create the hybrid engine. All told, he made only a handful of mistakes with the first and even fewer with the second, saving me a lot of time. The two engines needed only minimal fine-tuning, mostly quality of life changes that didn't occur to an AI.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

For example, SAINT lacked hands, and thumbs. He didn't really have a grasp of ergonomics, or human factor engineering as it was often called. For him, so long as everything functioned, it was fine. It was up to me to place handlebars for easy transportation, make the cases more conveniently collapsible, and make handles with swells that fit the human palm more comfortably.

There were other flaws too, mechanical ones that could impact the shelf life of these engines, but they were quickly fixed when I pointed them out.

I loved my duck. SAINT was best duck.

On my side of things, I'd built Key Mother as originally worn by Spitfire, the very first Flame King. It was a set of four roller blade wheels, each decorated with a crimson, nine-tailed fox that wrapped around the bearing. Every tail ended with little flames that caught the light and four pairs of eyes seemed to stare back at me, judging my worth.

"Flame is the creator of all things," he'd said. That was the foundation of Heaven's Door. As the rider who represented the origin of all creation, it was the prerogative of the Flame King to replicate every road and trick to perfection.

Or at least, that was Kazu's explanation before schooling Nike.

Shonen logic… shit was wild.

And I couldn't use it as it stood. The Inorganic Net didn't exist yet, nor were there any storm riders to contribute their tricks to the database. But that didn't mean it was worthless; it'd be one of the three components for my custom regalia after all.

No, what I did have was a set of three data sticks, each the size of a USB thumb drive. They were built into the soles of ATs and contained a powerful scanner that could observe and record the full body motions of whoever wore the skates before uploading this information to the Inorganic Net.

I tucked Gregor's new suit, the two hybrid engines, and the data sticks into the DSS and smiled. I had a busy night ahead of me.

X

I arrived home at a bit past six to find a text from my mom telling me that an old friend visited the clinic and she got distracted catching up so she'd be a bit late. Sierra had yet to arrive either so I decided to get started on dinner on my own. I rummaged through the pantry for something simple to make, wishing that I'd dabbled more in the exotic cookery of the Pokémon and One Piece specializations.

I shook my head. 'No, that'd probably be a bad thing. It's not like I can suddenly explain how I became a five-star chef overnight. The honey was already pushing it…'

To be fair, I didn't think the Enchanted Honey itself would be much of an issue. I'd only realized that I'd given Sierra and her friends tinkertech after the catalog went up, but it was admittedly an extremely subtle piece of tinkertech. A focused sugar high, but without the inevitable crash of something like coffee. Noticeable, but not incriminating by itself.

'That was more than a month ago in September,' I mused. 'I don't think she'll connect the dots, but Sisi's always been a huge cape nerd… I really need to be more careful.'

I was an idiot; there was no denying that. I was so hyper-fixated on ensuring that my catalog wouldn't be abused that I completely ignored the potential risk to my identity. It wasn't something that'd damn me right off the bat, but it was one way Sisi could discover my secret.

Then again, that raised another question: Did I care if Sierra knew?

On the most basic level, Sierra was trustworthy. Not just because she was my sister either. She had been Skitter's faithful lieutenant and I knew she very much had a flexible moral compass, albeit one pointing firmly north. When pushed into a corner, she followed three priorities: First, her brother, me. The other-me that was a spoiled, hedonistic shit-heel of a baby bro who sold himself to the Merchants of all people. Who, even now, I could feel looming over my shoulder, a shade of who I could have been. Second, the orphans she chose to shelter.

So long as Skitter provided a means to help her help others, Sierra had been willing to work with a warlord. It was incredibly utilitarian of her, "greatest good for the greatest number," even if said "good" came from a villain.

True, this was in an alternate universe where I wasn't who I was, but I couldn't help but feel that she'd proven herself to me a thousandfold. Sierra Kiley was as trustworthy as they came. I couldn't ask for a more loyal, earnest lieutenant, even more so considering I was Bryce Kiley. There was no doubt in my mind that she would ensure my safety and well-being.

Pragmatically speaking, there wasn't any real reason to fear discovery by her. I was reasonably certain I could keep Sisi from outing me to the Wards or mom; I'd proven I could handle myself after all. If all else failed, I could even promise her the powers needed to stand by my side and protect me with her own hands.

And yet, I hesitated. The thought of telling her filled me with dread. There was of course the question of Michelle and Sabah, but that wasn't my main concern.

The Sierra of canon-Worm had been a young woman hardened by myriad tragedies. Bakuda. The Unmasking of the Empire. Leviathan. Slaughterhouse. Echidna. Yes, she was a steadfast lieutenant and a force for good in the war-torn city, but she was also a young woman who clung to those morals like a lifeline, a young woman who'd lost almost everything and desperately tried to build herself up by building up others.

I cracked open a few cans of tomato sauce and picked out a bag of frozen meatballs before tossing them all into a saucepan to heat through. Spaghetti it was.

I feared for her, I realized. Not me, her.

I worried that things would escalate, that it'd begin with covering for me to mom so I could tinker more and ramp up until she wasn't the lovable, dorky sis I had now. I worried that being involved in Brockton's cape scene would change her. Given Brockton Bay being Brockton Bay, I felt my concerns were valid.

Even as I salted a pot of boiling water for the noodles, the hypocrisy wasn't lost on me.

I, Creed, was a cape who valued freedom above practically everything else. I declared for all to hear that I would respond with violence to any who tried to deprive me of my choices, hero or villain. And yet, here I was taking advice from Panacea and willfully denying that same choice to Sierra.

My own cape name was starting to sound a little sarcastic.

But in the end, I was the one who woke up with powers. I was the (mentally) older one. I was the one who knew what Amy could become and what it'd mean to bring Sisi into this world.

No, I wouldn't tell Sierra. If she discovered my identity, I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. But otherwise, I intended to keep her and mom in the dark.

X

Dinner had been a mostly quiet affair, my own thoughts putting me in an introspective mood.

I went upstairs afterwards to rush through my homework. Reincarnated soul or not, there was plenty of busywork that I couldn't just ignore, not if I wanted my mom to continue taking a loose stance on parenting.

I was almost done with my AP biology homework when I received a call. Unexpectedly, it was from Victoria. I picked up with a curious frown. "Yello, what's up?"

"Bryce?"

"Yeah, what can I do for you, V?"

"Nothing. Did you know Dean's birthday is in two weeks?"

I glanced at the calendar: the eighteenth. "Isn't that a week before Thanksgiving?"

"Mhmm. Anyway, we're having a party on the twentieth at his house. Got permission from his mom and everything."

"Wait, why are you arranging it then?"

"Because it's a surprise party, duh. Keep up, Bryce," I heard her huff. "Well… I mean, it's supposed to be a surprise party but Dean always figures it out anyway and pretends to be surprised. It's a whole thing we do."

I rolled my eyes. To be fair to her, surprising an empath with a birthday party was probably a doomed cause. "Right. Fair enough. What do you need from me?"

"Nothing, I'm just letting you know so you can come. I'll text you his address. Party starts at four then we can hang out until dinner."

"Thanks, Vicky. Any gift ideas? You know him best."

"Well… Don't bring a gag gift. Dennis does that every year so we've got that taken care of already."

"Okay. No gag gift…" I repeated. Then, I got a devious idea. It wasn't a gag gift… technically… Schooling my voice, I asked innocently, "Say, Vicky, isn't there a Wards thing this Saturday at the mall?"

"Yeah…?"

"Who's his favorite Ward? Probably not Vista… Clockblocker's probably too clownish… Shadow Stalker seems a bit moody for him… Maybe Aegis? He's the leader, like, Dean takes the whole student council president stuff seriously so he'd probably find Aegis relatable, right? Or Triumph because he was Wards Leader before Aegis?"

"His favorite Ward? Gallant. Definitely Gallant," she said. I could hear the grin in her voice. She thought she was the one playing a prank on her boyfriend and it was adorable. "So, gonna get him Gallant merch?"

"Yeah, if that's his favorite Ward. I'm thinking if I show up early, I can get it signed by the man himself. Think he'd like that?"

"Hehehehe, totally. He'll love it."

"Alright, cool. I have Saturday plans now. See you tomorrow, Vicky."

"Yup! It's going to be great, Bryce. You have a good night!" she chirped before the line went dead.

I chuckled to myself as I returned to my homework. If I could help Vicky play a harmless prank, then why wouldn't I?

I finished up my homework and grabbed a quick shower before shooting Faultline and Strider texts to let them know that I'd be paying a visit to the Palanquin. I didn't expect to pull another all-nighter, I did need my sleep, but I figured it'd be a good chance to knock out three birds with one stone. Deliver the hybrid engines to Uppercrust and Big Rig. Give Gregor his new suit. Then, when I had that sorted, I planned to visit a few gyms and dojos to insert my data sticks.

X

The handoff went well enough. With Strider and Faultline already in my corner, it was a simple matter of giving Gregor his suit and Strider the two hybrid engine samples. I even threw in a single nugget of wapometal and seastone each for Big Rig; I needed him to test the materials for himself before deciding he wanted them for his own projects after all.

Following that, I hopped all over town while cloaked to visit every gym I'd made a note of. A grand total of fourteen. They ranged from traditional martial arts dojos like kendo and taekwondo to more modern krav maga and Brazilian jujutsu. I wanted them all. I wanted to be a master of every mundane style of combat, so that should I ever go toe to toe against Krieg, I wouldn't be found wanting, so that I could demonstrate my inventions to their fullest potential. I was lacking, not my creations, and that stuck in my craw something fierce even now.

Alas, I'd have to stick to three for now.

I wandered from gym to gym, examining the equipment. Those, I felt, ought to be well-worn but cared for; I didn't want the moves from any "master" who only ever used them for fancy tricks and demonstrations. I also looked for a gym with a well-stocked first-aid kit that looked like it'd been used recently. I had no way of telling just from the equipment which gym taught "practical" self-defense, but I could at least eliminate the biggest posers.

Another qualification I had was that I ought to be able to use the martial art immediately. Unfortunately, that eliminated both the kendo and ninjutsu dojos. The anime nerd in me died a little inside, but I lacked a sword and could turn invisible at will. If I ever forged myself a zanpakuto or something, I'd definitely reconsider.

Finally, I had to consider my inventions. The hover boots and regalia easily made me the most mobile cape in the city. I eliminated Brazilian jujutsu and traditional judo for this reason. Grappling was amazingly useful against a single opponent, but on a battlefield where I'd almost certainly be outnumbered? Staying still to wrestle someone to the ground seemed directly counter to my greatest strength.

I settled on three schools at last: muay thai, aikido, and capoeira. Of these, muay thai was the only one useful for normal people in a typical street fight, but I wasn't normal anymore. I wanted muay thai to be my foundation, as it was for so many of the best fighters in the world, but the other two were chosen specifically to round out skillsets I expected I'd need shortly.

Aikido was taken for two reasons: First, its philosophy of "do no harm." It was what made aikido so ineffective in a street fight; that kind of ideal of not harming even the attacker was a lofty, hilariously arrogant mentality. And yet, it was one I arguably should have when dealing with normal people. Aikido taught restraining locks, throws, and takedowns that were far kinder on the attacker than anything in Brazilian jujutsu. Considering my suit's strength augmentation and omnidirectional leverage from my boots, I didn't doubt I could use even those to great effect.

Second, aikido offered me familiarity with escaping grapples. Sure, I could out-muscle normal people, but someone like Glory Girl? If she ever caught me by surprise, I wanted to be familiar enough with grapples to escape without harming her. I figured a combination of Thunder Wave, Psychic, and aikido would be good enough to get me distance and let me choose my engagements.

As for capoeira, it was between that and taekwondo. Both were seen as almost performative martial arts, but not because they lacked power. Kicking was incredibly risky in a fight because it gambled your own footing.

As a gravity child, I literally couldn't lose my footing. The ground beneath me could be launched at the speed of a fighter jet and it wouldn't matter. Those kicks that were so risky for everyone else were practically made with storm riders in mind.

Ultimately, I chose capoeira over taekwondo for one reason: the dance. The twisting motions that heavily relied on the core was exactly what I wanted. It had striking similarities with one of the primary roads in Air Gear, the Sonia Road.

The Sonia Road belonged to the Thorn Queen, a woman who could spin so quickly that she created "thorns" made of sonic booms, sonic booms she could somehow direct to perform individual attacks against isolated targets without harming the surroundings. However, the technique was just as dangerous for the user as it was for the opponent, potentially crippling in fact, which explained why there were so few Sonia Road practitioners.

That kind of torque generated by the core placed immense strain on the spine of the user, so much so that there had only ever been a single Thorn Queen who wasn't a gravity child. Rika. Save for her, both Gazelle and Ringo were gravity children with unique adaptions that allowed them to take in extra nitrogen with their lungs. This nitrogen created bubble-like cushions along the spine to absorb some of the impact of their roads.

I'd never be able to master the Sonia Road to that extent, but I didn't need to. Lind, the Fang King, and son of Gazelle, was able to combine the Sonia Road with his Bloody Road. He used the flexibility and whiplike spins of the Sonia Road as a foundation to improve the "sharpness" of his own air blades.

Capoeira wasn't the Sonia Road, but seeing how I had no tutors nor a frame of reference I could study, it was the closest analog with its revolving kicks and emphasis on core strength. Out of all the martial arts I could find, it was the only one that had a comparable style to one of the roads so I hoped learning it could help me decode some of the tricks of the Thorn Queens before me. If not, then perhaps I could do as Lind did and use that increased flexibility as a foundation for my own road.

Author's Note

Ergonomics is fascinating, both simple and a lot more complicated than you'd initially expect. For example, did you know that most doors which are meant to be pushed open have horizontal bars while doors that are meant to be pulled have vertical handles? It has to do with the way your muscles are structured in your arms. It sounds super simple in application, but thinking about it can be really difficult for an AI.

Higher morality is easy until it suddenly isn't, eh?

Is Bryce fucking with the empath? Of course!

Aikido? Capoeira? Useless. If you're thinking about self-defense, just pick up BJJ and kickboxing. But if your goal is to have a "kind" martial art and a fantastic set of abs, they're for you.

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.