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When they arrived back in Elkin, it was early morning. Grace’s car was heavily tilted on the combat suit’s side, meaning it was very heavy, and Rowan drove at a snail’s speed, to spare the vehicle. Grace ran into his arms the moment he got out of the car.
“Thank goodness you’re safe,”
“But I did SMSed you,” Rowan blurted, thinking a classic: why haven’t you called? would follow. “It was too early to call.”
“I know… but I was so worried. I had a dream, of you lying unconscious, and I was screaming at you to get up.”
“Ah, that’s… never mind, it can wait. I want you to meet someone.”
“Who?”
“The Wizard of Oz.” He made a gesture, and Cora, still in her suit, exited the car.
Grace took a step back. “What’s that?”
“Let’s go inside, and I’ll explain.”
For such a huge suit, it moved quite silently. A minute later, and with a coffee in front of him, Rowan was still delaying the truth. Cora stood ten feet apart, at ease, waiting for him to do the introductions.
“Well?” Grace said. “What’s with the robot?”
His high Will meant that Rowan was not averse to delivering the truth in one blunt go. “It’s not a robot, it’s a suit, and inside it it’s Cory. And no, she didn’t transfer herself to an android. Cory’s a real person, an alien who was stuck on that ship, the only survivor. She lied to us about being an AI but had good reasons.”
Grace leaned back on the sofa, switching her head around between the suit and Rowan, staring at him like doubting his sanity. Then, the suit let out a puff, opened, and Cora made her entry.
“Ta-da!” Cora widened her arms in a theatrical gesture. She then threw herself on the couch, between Rowan and Grace, wrapping her arms around their necks.
“So, here I am. Besties forever, right?”
“G-get away from me!” Grace screamed, shoving the Nekojin apart.
“Don’t be afraid, she’s not aggressive,” Rowan tried to explain.
“I’m not afraid. She stinks!” Grace blurted, rushing to open the French doors to the backyard.
“I do not stink!” Cora hissed, showing her canines. “Don’t you dare insult me, human! This kitty has claws!” Her nails seemed to grow longer, at least as far as Rowan could tell.
“Like a dead body skunks peed on. Beurch!”
“She doesn’t stink to me,” Rowan frowned. “You’re sure?”
Skill: Sensorial Filtering deactivated. Note: Your high Will allows you to selectively process information, enhancing some senses and muting others, for better performance in or out of combat.
“Uh… on second thought, there is a slight… whiff…” he tried to take some distance on the coach. Surprisingly, the Nekojin made him retch, and at the same time, her sight inspired… sensations in his body. He found her sexy, and those details he thought about with detachment in the ship, hit back with unexpected strength.
The truth was that being locked on the bridge for almost two months had not helped Cora’s bodily odors. Maybe Grace was exaggerating about the rotten corpse, but not for the skunks. Cora smelled like at least ten of them were her best friends.
“Maybe you should take a shower,” Rowan suggested.
“Nonsense! Give me a sponge and some rubbing alcohol and I’ll be good as new in no time.”
“Rowan!” Grace’s voice rose in intensity. “Grab and wash her this moment!”
A high Will meant also he dared to be a coward and run when running was the best option. “I’ll let you two sort it out together, catching up, stuff. I have to think about my builds.”
Passing near Grace in a rush, he exited through the French doors and ran away, while she looked at him with widened eyes and a dropping jaw. Ten minutes later he was up in the hills. Choosing a tree line with a view toward the valley, he sat on the grass and sighed. After all, what better solution than to transform the lie into a truth? Then, the excuse would have been justified.
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Summoning his Character Sheet, he first noticed his level was now fifty, and had a whopping ninety-seven free Attribute Points. He took out his phone and used the calculator. That meant that if he managed to get ten extra points before the max level he could raise all his secondary stats to threshold three… More than Cory had ever suggested.
“What about that, Cory?”
His question met silence. Cory was not in his mind anymore. It felt… weird… like a void. There was a problem with where to get those extra points. Rome and the ship had been treasure troves while clearing monsters for weeks, a chore. What if the first two were a once-in-a-lifetime event? Could he spend weeks, or months grinding APs?
Swallowing a lump, Rowan balled his fists with determination. There were two answers. Yes, I have enough will to do it, the first said. Yes, because in the end, it’s trivial, said the second, and it was the right one. Understanding the challenges, and mastery over his abilities, mattered more.
A dungeon half his level had almost killed him twice, because of unprovoked mistakes. He had pressed a random key on a piano and thought himself a virtuoso. The easiness with which Cora had moved the cloud of debris with her mind had shown him what real skill looked like. That was what he needed, not brute force. Thinking. Training.
The memory of the homeless old lady he had almost half-blinded in a fit of rage, because she took his last sandwich, came into his mind, fresh like it was yesterday. She had patched herself up with some iodine and Band-Aids and apologized. Then his biological father gave him the worst beating of his life—no, the second worst, after Isla’s—and for the next months, Rowan stole or extorted food both for his father and the crone.
When Papa Allinder adopted him, Rowan refused to go to school. He was afraid that after living in the streets, he could give in to anger and kill somebody for real, some stupid kid who would have picked on him for no good reason. And Johan Allinder had met his demands, painstakingly homeschooling him, but asked a price in return. Therapy. He had done it for years.
The Feds episode was one he was proud of. That was what he needed: a clear mind, observing, analyzing, and acting decisively. Not a six-year-old fit of temper. There were aliens around now, unknown entities. Were they victims of the system, like the old lady? Murderers, cold-blooded criminals? Did they even think as humans did? He did not know but resolved to be prepared. He could start by choosing his next perks and training.
Leaving twenty attribute points for later, Rowan raised all his secondary stats to the second threshold and got a surprise.
You have achieved a Breakthrough. Secondary Class obtained: Primeval Magus. Tier: Mythical. Main Stat: WIL
You have displayed an uncanny affinity with multiple elements, unlocking the Magus class. A Magus gains an deep understanding of the workings of the world without studying as much as the INT classes. Your main affinities are Cold and Gravity (combative) and Fire (defensive). Up to five main affinities can be unlocked through experimenting.
The secondary class shares levels and stats with the primary one and does not grant any supplementary APs or XP.
Rowan felt complete. The sentiment was hard to describe but filled him with a sense of purpose and awareness. Refusing to be swept by that sweet drunkenness sensation, he concentrated on the plethora of notifications.
----------------------------------------
It took a minute for Grace to get back to her senses. That kind of betrayal was not what she expected. Her husband should have stayed, and taken it like a man. That’s what the one was supposed to do. She shook her head, snapping out of her numbness.
“Here, play with this while I organize things,” she threw a yarn clew at Cora.
“How do you dare, you think I’m some pet? Oh… this feels so nice,” the Nekojin furrowed her cheek in the wool.
Grace was already outside, in the Garden, activating the private chat that worked more or less like a phone inside the County.
[Grace to Isla]: Are you around by any chance?
[Isla to Grace]: And Good Morning to you too. Yes, I’m starting my shift just now. Do you need something?
[Grace to Isla]: Yes. I have a guest who resents water and soap, but stinks, and I was thinking you could… err… persuade her to take a bath…
[Isla to Grace]: She's French?
[Grace to Isla]: She's a sort of a cat. I’ll explain when you—
[Isla to Grace]: I’m here.
The police car, lights on, stopped in front of the house, and Isla exited in a hurry. Her nose wrinkled in disgust from ten yards away.
“Ugh…”
After entering the living room, Isla didn’t even ask for explanations. One look around, then she grabbed Cora by the tail and rushed upstairs, the Nekojin suspended in the air.
“HELP! MURDER!”
Soon, there was water and fight noises, and screams, lots of screams.
“Who died?” Dmitri appeared, sniffing around.
“No one… we have an unwashed guest.”
“Hi, Mommy!” Lizzie yelled, rushing down the stairs. “Where’s our new pet? I got a notification from the System. Because I was so nice, I got a cat-folk friend as a reward.”
“We’ll see about that later. Dmitri, fold that blanket from the couch, I need to wash it… no, the hell with it, to the garbage it goes… Beurch.”
Ignoring the heavy smell and the agitation around, Lizzie was trying to get into the robot suit.
“Leave it be, it’s dangerous!” Grace screamed. “And dirty. Go change your pajamas for some proper clothes.”
An hour later, after breakfast was eaten, Dmitri walked Lizzie to school, and the suit was stored in spatial storage, Grace and a clean Cora, dressed in a borrowed house robe stared at each other across the table.
“So…” Grace started.
“Yes?” Cora nodded.
“Why the lies and manipulations? You know, turning me into a murderer, and so on.”
“Putting aside that it was also in your interest, I did what I had to do to survive. Rowan was my only chance.”
“What do you want?”
“First, I will remind you that you can’t kill me,” Cora pushed her chair a little farther from the table. “I mean, yeah, you could, but I’m also attuned to the core, so I’ll Rezz in no time, in a secret hideout. Second, I have footage of you poisoning the Knyaz. If you’ll be unreasonable, I’ll make it public.”
“Get to the point,” Grace sneered, crossing her arms while starring daggers.
“Here are my demands,” Cora said, pushing a paper on the table.
Unfolding it, Grace read the eight words.
I want you to share Rowan with me.