They were all arrayed in a neat little line. All of them wearing pristine, form-fitting suits.

All but the single male had started growing hair and that turned out to be the best way to differentiate between them. Well, that and the varying degrees of murderous looks I was getting.

"So, I think we should all have just as much access to our family as him. Given that he gave us his memories." Mercy spoke without missing a beat.

She looked more or less like me. Or rather, like mom.

Only mom had been a brunette and Mercy was even more blonde than me. What little hair she'd managed to grow in the days she'd been alive had come out a half-shining resplendent gold. Nothing like my or uncle Uter or dad's own sandy-blond hair.

She looked a little older than me too, but only because Pool-Cecil had wanted his guinea pigs to come out already grown and in their prime, the bastard.

"Mr. Robertson managed to awaken our memories and help us get out of our stupor. Before that point, I considered myself a tool to be used and discarded. And I saw that as normal. Once he used his own magic to make us snap out of it, I began thinking for myself and getting a grip on all the memories the other me left me with."

"Do you see yourself as the real Cecil?" The judge asked with obvious curiosity.

"I see myself as a different person, but I still recall everything about my, his, life. I remember everything. I don't see myself as his daughter. I am him. Or a version of him. And I want to be able to live with my aunt and uncle and cousin just like before."

She shot me a brief glare.

"I think that's the least he can do for me."

I turned to the back corner, where uncle Uter was sitting.

Aunt Cheryl and Eva weren't present because he was worried things might get weird. I couldn't help but think that this had been a massive understatement.

"I would also like to request that Mr. Robertson stop trying to matchmake on my behalf. It wasn't funny when he was trying to set me, or the original bastard, up with Elsie and it sure isn't funny now. Again, I am my own person and I think I deserve the chance to live out my life as, well, not Cecil per se, but at least a member of the family. I am not interested in marrying Oscar Robertson. Nor anyone else for that matter."

I turned my head to where Elsie was sitting. Raising a very alarmed eyebrow.

She looked back at me.

Winked.

Stuck out her tongue to the side.

And shrugged with an expression that screamed: "Sorry! Tee hee!"

I imagined wrapping my hands around her throat.

Then I recalled how supportive and all around helpful she'd been and I felt bad.

"Oh, Oscar isn't that bad." The judge began, before he noticed how wide my own eyes had gotten.

Then he cleared his throat and excused himself.

"Right. Moving on. You have a different core than Cecil's own. Is that right?"

"Yes." Mercy confirmed.

"And, what is the current name and makeup of the core?" He asked. "Actually, would you consent to us seeing your status for the purposes of the proceedings?"

"If it will help." Mercy stated curtly.

The judge leaned over to the suited man.

"Gene, can we get that up on the screen?"

Gene nodded and fiddled with a tablet for a second, before a nearby projection screen put up a status screen for all to see.

Name:

Mercy Fowler

Core:

[Sanctuary] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Perception] / [Shield] / [Healing] / [Force] / [Effort] / [Reprisal] / [Plant]

Level:

1

Vitality:

5.1

Endurance:

5.2

Potency:

4.1

Precision:

6.1

Fortitude:

4.2

Skills:

[Heal] / [Detect] / [High Telekinesis] / [Counterblow] / [Nurture Plants] / [Zone of Supremacy] / [Constant Potential]

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Hey, aren't those numbers a bit high?" I blurted out.

Everyone turned to stare at me. Mercy included.

"For how long she's been alive, I mean."

Just as I was beginning to redden, Mercy spoke up.

"It's the last two Skills. Our, I mean, your experiments ended up with me having 3 or so on most stats. Since you pumped so much magic into me at once. The training I've done since then and the Skills took care of the rest."

She grimaced.

"From what Mr. Robertson, James Robertson and a whole bunch of lab coats have been able to figure out, its a completely new core that focuses on constant, wide-area buffs. [Zone of Supremacy] lets me apply all my other Skills on a much wider area. All at once. And it lets me see more or less everything that happens in that area. All while most monsters are repelled-outright by the forcefield and the ones that make it through take constant damage for no added cost. Unless I decide to use my other abilities to attack or to immediately counterattack from a distance. That means that, on top of all those passives, I can heal or attack from 500 meters or so away. The radius might get bigger once I get more stats and level some more."

She paused.

"That and I can apply [Constant Potential] to a bunch of people at once. The Skill gives me a small trickle of magic to process at all times. Meaning I can give small stats gains to a bunch of people at the same time when I apply the zone. Even while out of combat. Even while they do nothing."

I stood there for a good minute or two. Staring at her like how that two-headed crow had stared at me after it led a pack of wolves to me and coach Russell.

'Holy jumping gummy bears! No wonder the old man wants to marry her off to Elsie's brother!'

If i was reading into things correctly, that combination of powers would let her grow food in the same way I did. Maybe even better. And with the added benefit of not having to worry about monsters or blacklisted Skills to boot.

Furthermore, getting a nice steady trickle of pre-processed magic sounded like the kind of thing Mr. Robertson and all his goons had been researching for decades without success. Only for it to fall into their laps like mana from heaven.

'Come to think of it, doesn't that mean he can give a bunch of people cores without really shoving monsters in their face? Isn't that a much better alternative than having me set a bunch of monsters loose in major cities and towns?'

Probably not.

The power sounded too good to be true, which probably meant there was some sort of annoying limitation. Such as the need for continued exposure, or perhaps the amount of magic it takes her to pass the passive buff to other people.

What Mr. Robertson wanted was mass adoption and disposable monsters seemed like a much better fit for that plan. Even if led to people getting sub-par cores.

Also, the range was only 500 meters right now.

That sounded like a lot, but some major cities could stretch several dozen kilometers in all directions. Even if he planted Mercy down on a major intersection or busy street, it might only lead to a few hundred people getting decent cores if they travelled through there enough times.

No. The real gains would come from people who stayed near Mercy long-term. Or at least, for as long as it took them to get cores.

'Ah.' I realized with a start. 'So that's why the plan is to bring that many new people to the Dungeon town in North Korea. The passive might lead to a slow improvement on the stats they gain and the cores they get. Given how cramped the living quarters are. Just give her a nice house in the middle of a new housing complex and watch the magic happen.'

Not to mention the possibility of giving cores, or at least significant advantages, to people too young to fight.

Like Eva.

"Okay. Now that we've got a better grasp on how the new Skills have developed, I have to ask. Mr. Fowler. Did you know what kind of core Ms. Fowler here would be getting?"

"I had no idea what she got until you showed me."

"So, the you that was under the influence of [Seeker-Mind] did not explicitly set out to create someone with this specific power-set?"

"I don't think so." I told him truthfully. "I think he was just throwing stuff at the wall to see what worked and what didn't. I have a feeling he would have been happy with any late-stage core."

The judge nodded.

"That lines up with the notes we have from the members who went through your memories. Fair enough."

He and many others started taking notes.

"With that in mind, I think it is safe to say that you are more than capable of self-reproduction via unconventional means. Given your age and, unique circumstances, I hesitate to give you any kind of custody, but we can revisit that in a bit. For now, I would like to address the occurrence of you creating a child from yourself with no other assistance. One that had your core. Can you confirm this is something you are able to replicate?"

"I probably could." I told them all. "But I won't. That sounds all kinds of messed up and I am still plagued with nightmares. I am in no hurry to do anything like that again."

"Not even at the explicit request of our community and under more controlled circumstances?" The suited woman asked.

I turned to the woman.

Then I blinked stupidly at her.

Wondering if she'd somehow suffered a debilitating stroke that I simply didn't notice in the past few minutes.

"Uh. No. That sounds like a morally repugnant thing to even consider."

The second part of that sentence: 'What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid ignorant bitch?' was left unsaid.

For obvious reasons.

Though I had a feeling all my copies were thinking the exact same thing, given the expressions they'd made.

"Are you sure?" Gene insisted. "That does seem like it would allow us to make great strides in artificial core growth. Not to mention the usefulness of having more people with your particular skillset." He paused to look at his notes. "Or the usefulness of experimenting with enhancing already existing cores."

"I... I'm pretty sure I can't do that."

A disturbingly large amount of these goons shared looks among themselves.

"Would you be willing to try, at least?"

"I would not be willing to try at this time." I told him.

Which to me, was the polite way of telling him to shove a flagpole up his nether regions.

"Let us move on to the next issue. Would you, Cecil Fowler, consider Mercy, Progress, Michael, Patience, Dana and Dorothy Fowler to be members of your family? And if so, would they be considered siblings, or children?"

"Who are Dana and Dorothy?"

He gave me a reproachful look.

So did two of the copies.

"I had their names changed with their consent. I wasn't about to have someone waltz through a custody hearing with a name like Disappointment, Mr. Fowler. I will have you know that I am an actual judge and I have an actual law degree and actual experience away from Dunstonberry. I've seen some bad cases before, but even a name like that is a bit much for me."

The whole court nodded along. As if to say: "Fair enough."

"Now that you mention it, that does sound like the smarter idea."

"Excellent. So, what do you think?"

"I think I'm definitely not ready to be a parent." I blurted out. "But I can definitely see who this is kinda my fault and how these new people are kinda me in some way. I certainly wouldn't want to be separated from my family if I suddenly found myself in a different body. So, siblings I guess."

He nodded again.

"And what does the elder Mr. Fowler and his family believe? Would they be willing to host the new Fowlers and welcome them as members of his family?"

"Yes." Uncle Uter said at once. His voice carrying over the courtroom for the first time. Without any hint of hesitation.

Mercy let out a sigh of relief. So did the other copies.

"Splendid. As it happens, all of your new siblings expressed the desire to be with their family as well, so I'll make a summary ruling that you all be a family, with respect to you all being considered legal half-siblings. I'll have the appropriate documents forged and see to it that they be delivered to your home in about a month."

He paused to go over his documents.

"In addition, I'll have Cecil Fowler's considerable liquid assets divided amongst all the copies, so that they at least have some financial independence aside from the support provided by the Robertson estate. I am also putting them all as co-owners of Mr. Fowler's other, larger property, so that they can also have a place to stay if there are no more rooms in your current lodgings or if the space gets to feel too cramped."

He struck his gavel with a generous amount of self-righteousness. Apparently blind to the irony of him, a judge, telling his entire court that he was about to commit identity fraud.

No one seemed to care.

And so, I ended up walking out of the court with a bunch of documents that apparently held my test results up to that point.