“So Attribute Rankings are the measuring stick, not the actual thing improving our strength or speed?”
James sipped from a drink he’d poured himself—a whiskey, Terry guessed—the ice clinking against the glass.
“Exactly. We don’t receive automatic boosts to our Attributes; we have to work for them.” He leaned forward, his eyes alight with excitement. “Imagine you’re a Duelist—pure physical Class, right?”
Terry nodded, leaning in himself. He hadn’t seen his father this animated since mom’s death and he was infected by the man’s good mood.
“Sure, though the System gives them weapons sometimes. Not sure how that comes into play.”
James waved that away. “Forget those for a minute, those are Quest rewards. Think about someone like Whipvine. You’ve seen how fast he can move—well, maybe not his top speed—but damn fast, I’m sure.”
“Oh, yeah,” Terry replied. “Mes showed us the wraith-glass recording of you, Savage, and Whip taking out the Scourge—”
James’ eyes bugged out, choking on his whiskey with a cough.
“He what!”
Terry shrugged. “Yeah, thought it was pretty badass, actually.” The memory of Whipvine lashing his weapons behind him to jerry-rig flight had been the kind of thing he wouldn’t believe if he hadn’t seen it. “The way Whipvine flurried through the Scourge’s bug waves…” He trailed off at the dark look in his father’s eyes. “Wh-what’s wrong?”
James’ lips pursed tight for a moment before answering. “Did he show you the…conclusion of the fight?”
Terry leaned back, trying to parse where the sudden mood shift had come from. Was he not supposed to have seen that?
“Well, yeah. You mean when Whipvine killed the Scourge?”
James’ nostrils flared and his drink hit the table with a loud clink.
“You’re too young to see those things.” The fire in his father’s voice pulled him back to the argument they’d had before his Awakening and he had to force the memory away. “Seb shouldn’t have shown you that.”
“Dad, it’s fine—” James’ head whipped back, his expression tight.
“Terry, you’re fourteen! Whip cut off his head and fed it to Savage! You’re telling me that didn’t affect you in the slightest?”
Terry thought back to that moment in Mesmer’s office, watching his father on the wraith-glass, Whipvine swimming through the air with cracks of his whips, Savage launching himself into the air with reckless abandon.
“No,” he replied with confidence. “Watching the Scourge get what was coming to him didn’t bother me in the least. I was worried about you and Whipvine. That’s it.”
His father’s eyes burned with green magic, unblinking as they examined Terry. He was chewing his inner lip, clearly agitated, though he remained silent.
“What, dad? I have the internet you know? It’s hardly worse than a Saturday morning sim—”
He cut off as his father abruptly stood, pacing with his back to Terry.
“That wasn’t a damn sim, Terry,” his father growled. “That was a human being we cut down. That was a…” He muttered under his voice and Terry leaned forward to try and catch his words.
“I’m sorry, dad. Am I supposed to feel bad about you killing the man that tried to kidnap me?” Terry’s voice rose, the annoyance with it. “You forget, I saw the feed of your fight with the Knights of Sol. Don’t pretend like you’re some saint.”
His father’s shoulders slumped and he stopped in place, his back still to Terry.
“I’m sorry, Terry. You’re right. I…Allen was my friend.”
Terry’s eyes went wide, his mouth gaping.
“Allen…you mean the Scourge! The Scourge was your friend!” The shock brought Terry’s voice up an octave. “Why…why the hell was your friend trying to kidnap me? Wait! I saw you fighting him. You sent Skol and Hati after him when the Knights attacked.”
James turned, a defeated expression on his face.
“Allen and I hadn’t spoken in years, but we grew up together.” He sighed, plopping back into the couch and scooping up his drink. It hung there in his hand as he regarded the caramel liquid. “We were pulling our punches.”
“Pulling…? Dad, they were trying to kidnap me!”
James eyes flicked up at his tone. “Terry, I would never have let that happen. Your grandfather and I were in constant communication during the fight. I knew you were safe, I swear it.”
“And the Siren?” Terry demanded. “Was that you pulling your punches?”
James propped his glass against his forehead, his eyes staring at the carpet, haunted. Terry held his tongue, resisting the urge to demand answers. The frustration warred with the longing not to rock the boat; they’d only just begun repairing their relationship. But at the same time, there was clearly so much he didn’t understand, so much his father was keeping from him.
When James finally broke the silence, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Lirian was a…friend, too. Once upon a time. We dated for a year even—” He glanced up, his expression harried. “—before I met your mother, I mean.”
Terry reared back, horrified.
“You…dated? How could—you stomped on her neck, dad! Snapped it with your damn boot!”
James nodded, accepting the accusatory tone without complaint.
“I did,” he whispered. Then, he looked up, his eyes still lit green, his aura full and confident. “I did and I’d do it again.” He must have noticed the look of horror in Terry’s eyes, because he shook his head. “Not because I’m a sadist, Terry or some malicious bastard.” He sighed, sipping from his glass before continuing. “Do you know how a Distorter’s powers work?”
Terry frowned at the oblique line of questioning.
“What does that have to do with the Siren?” he asked, crossing his arms. He knew the Siren was a Distorter, but he was on guard against his father deflecting from the broader discussion.
James nodded. “Let me explain. A Distorter infects an aura, reducing the target’s powers or even distorting them to cause harm. But unlike Null, a Distorter’s powers aren’t permanent.” His father’s eyes softened, a sadness playing across his face. “The best way to stop a Distorter…is to kill them. If I hadn’t she might have broken my bond with Skol and Hati. For me, it would be like Null himself affixing a negation forever. That was the choice I had to make. She gave me no other option.”
Terry turned away, moving to the window to pull the drapes back. The eternal darkness of Wichita stared back at him, stealing the comfort he had been hoping to find in her skyline, the graceful power of her twin rivers.
A part of him—a petulant part—wanted to condemn his father’s actions anyway. They’re only wolves, he might have said, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he knew differently. Skol and Hati had been his father’s bonded familiars for longer than Terry had been alive. They were family, even if they couldn’t be on this plane all the time.
But he couldn’t absolve the man, not just yet. Something about the powerful anger in his father’s eyes when he had stomped on her thin neck stuck with him far more than Whipvine’s disposal of the Scourge. He didn’t know why, but for some reason, one had felt necessary, while the other…vindictive.
He turned away from the inky black of the city to see a weariness set deep in his father’s eyes. His own anger softened and he walked over to kneel before him. His father looked away, but Terry grabbed his hand, feeling the rough warmth for the first time in months. In the back of his mind, he realized that he could sense his Skills waiting to be activated, eager, almost alive. He pushed them away, focusing on his father’s face until the man finally met his gaze.
“Tell me the truth, dad. Please. I saw the hate in your eyes, the rage. I want to understand. I really do.”
James placed his other hand on top of Terry’s, giving it a desperate squeeze. He finally understood what had prompted the man to leave Wichita without so much as a word; the months of silence.
His father was a man drowning in grief and a drowning man always pulls down others around them. He had been trying to protect Terry with his distance, he could see that now. But sometimes, even adults needed a life vest thrown their way.
James latched onto Terry, finally accepting the help he thought he could survive without.
“I…did hate her,” James whispered. “In that moment, I wanted to kill her. She was trying to rip something away from me, the only thing I’d ever wanted.” He looked away, his eyes glistening, his voice weak. “I killed her, Terry. I killed her…”
Terry’s heart thrummed in his throat, his body locked in place. He feared the deluge that might erupt from his father, the raw emotion and self-hate that would infect Terry with sympathetic pain. He waited for his father to break, holding his hand tight, doing his best to brace himself for the eventuality.
But James didn’t break. He cleared his throat, gave Terry’s hand a squeeze, blinked away the sheen that had threatened to materialize into something greater, and gave a sad smile.
“I’m sorry, Terry. I’ve been an emotional wreck, haven’t I?”
Terry snorted, shaking his head as he stood. “We both have. But I’m over it. I’m ready to embrace Awakened life. I’m ready to learn how to do some cool shit.”
His father chuckled, leaning back and eyeing him with a cryptic expression. Terry folded his arms unconsciously under the attention.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
James shrugged, shaking his head. “I’m just proud of you, son. And I can’t wait to see what cool shit you get up to.”
Terry shifted, looking away with a grin he tried to hide but couldn’t. After a moment, he looked back as he settled into the couch.
“Let’s get back to Attributes,” he said, thankful to return to a less heavy topic. “You were saying something about Whipvine’s speed.”
James’ eyes searched him for a moment, perhaps looking for more unsaid between them that needed to be addressed. But Terry knew that not everything had to be said at once; there would be time to heal—even from a distance.
Seeming satisfied, James leaned back and sipped his drink before diving in.
“Duelist,” he began, “is the physical-type Class, right? Superhuman feats of strength and speed come easy to even a D-ranked Duelist. But the System doesn’t give them physical Attributes.” He swirled his drink, the ice clinking against the glass. “So…how do Duelists get stronger and faster?”
Terry frowned, thinking of the obvious answer but not feeling satisfied with it.
Skills, he thought. But that didn’t explain why Whipvine was fast, Savage was strong, War Crimes had hand-eye coordination and finesse. Unless the Skills were literally just super strength or speed or the like. But dad had said the System didn’t give those Attributes…
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“I’m not sure,” he eventually replied.
James scrunched his face up into a scowl, affecting a cadence that was the spitting image of Whipvine.
“Admitting you don’t know shit is the first step to unfucking yourself,” he mocked. Terry snort-laughed while his father’s Whipvine facade cracked with a smile. “Whip’s always had a way with words, hasn’t he.”
Terry scoffed. “Putting it lightly.”
“As you’ve probably seen, the System Skills can work on a sort of autopilot—with generally inferior results. But if you engage with the Skill, let the System help guide you as you put in the effort, the true potential unlocks.”
“And how does that relate to Duelists?”
James leaned forward, his expression curious. “I’d wager your aura sense is in the low to mid Es—” Terry’s eyes went wide at that. “—so you must have noticed Whipvine’s aura.”
He was still reeling at that estimation—low to mid Es—when he registered the second part of that statement.
“Actually, yeah. I noticed his aura didn’t really extend out like you or me. It was condensed around his lower arms, now that I think about it.”
James was nodding, a pleased smile on his face. “Very good. Definitely low Es at a minimum. You might be surprised to know that not everyone can read the minutiae of another’s aura like that.” That did surprise him, but he was hanging too tightly on his father’s next words to let the pride settle in. “Whipvine—and all Duelists—get Skills to guide body tempering and enhancement. It could be a Skill increasing the strength in their legs or the dexterity of their fingers. Hell, even the acuity and range of their vision or hearing.”
“I thought you said the System doesn’t give them those Attributes? Isn’t giving them a Skill to do that basically the same?”
James shook his head and pointed his finger. “No, and I’ll tell you why. First of all, it’s agonizing. Like fire ants crawling under your skin—”
“You’ve done it?” Terry gasped. “Is that why you’re stronger and faster than a normie?”
He nodded, taking another sip, his cheeks beginning to flush. “I have support Skills to guide a full-body enhancement all the way through the Ds. As a result, my Physical Attributes average around a mid-D—”
A notification flickered across his vision, flashing open his father’s System nameplate from where he had minimized it earlier with a thought.
Individual Attribute Ranks: No Data -> Attribute Data Updated
Strength: D4 (Estimated)
Speed: D4 (Estimated)
Toughness: D4 (Estimated)
Perception: D4 (Estimated)
Terry blinked in surprise as the list of estimated Attribute rankings appeared before him.
“Did your Attribute Ranking compile?” James asked.
He shook his head. “No. Yours did. It filled in your Strength, Speed, and Endurance with D4s for some reason.”
James leaned back with a nod. “Ah, yeah, it does that. A person’s estimated stats can change a lot as you talk to them—or fight them,” he added with a chuckle. “It homes in on other’s ranking but I’ve found it can vary pretty wildly until the data really piles on.”
Terry scanned the estimated Attribute Rankings, feeling a bit…unimpressed by the System’s methods.
“All you did was say your Physical Attributes are mid-D. What if you were lying? Seems kind of…inexact.”
“Oh, it can be. It’s giving me the benefit of the doubt until I prove otherwise. If you watched me leap across Wichita right now, the System would recompile and put my Physical Attributes somewhere in the As. But since it doesn’t have any contradictory data, it’ll just give a rough guess for now.”
“Okay, makes sense, I guess. So how do the body enhancement or tempering Skills work, exactly?” Terry asked.
A smile lit up across James face. “Why don’t I show you while you activate your Skills?”
Terry’s face split into a matching grin and he considered his Skills with a thought.
“Hell yeah! Okay, ready.”
James nodded and his aura began fluctuating. Metaphysical Analysis was triggered almost immediately, those familiar notifications appearing.
Metaphysical component detected…
Before it could prompt him for his input, he was already reaching his thoughts into his aura, feeling the shift as it quested forward toward his father. In his aura sense, he could feel the man’s aura retracting, pulling in tight, nearly sinking beneath the skin.
His own Skill guided his aura, wrapping around his father like glove around a fist. James’ eyebrows rose in surprise as Terry’s aura encompassed his own.
“Oh, wow. I half-expected it to feel like a Distorter’s invasion. But it’s more like an Amplifier’s touch.”
Terry frowned. “Is that good…?”
“Actually, yes. It’s less likely to alarm someone if you use your Skill on them. This is really good, actually,” James continued, a smile on his face. “Okay, I’m gonna need to focus while I use the body Skill. Ready?”
Terry nodded, turning his attention back to his aura. He felt his father’s aura in its entirety, his senses alight with the sensation. There was a texture to it, grainy, like he was running his hand along the surface of unfinished wood. His aura attempted to seep into those micro divots, forcing itself in tighter to his father’s aura surface. He realized then what exactly the Metaphysical Analysis Skill was doing.
It’s creating a mold!
The realization unlocked something in his mind and he began directing the aura with purpose. He could tell instinctively that his father’s Skill was far too nuanced for him to capture its entire surface at once. Instead, he had to help force his aura into the tight nooks of his father’s aura, one small area at a time. It was painstaking work, requiring his complete focus in order to meticulously cover every square inch of surface aura.
Time drifted away as he worked, his vision tunneled as his mind traced over his father’s aura, double-checking the mold he’d already made. Once he had covered the entire surface twice over and felt satisfied with his work, he eased his senses back, letting the Skill go with a weary sigh.
The first thing he noticed when his vision returned, was the notification blinking in front of him.
Metaphysical component cataloged…
Partial Skill acquired—Full-Body Tempering (F)
Genetic Analysis required before Affixation is available.
Attribute calculation updated…
See Status Sheet for more information.
He blinked a few times to clear away the fog. Beyond the looming notifications, he spotted his father watching him curiously.
“Well, that was certainly interesting,” James said. “Did it work?”
Terry’s mind felt heavy, his thoughts thick. The attention to detail, the sheer focus, the weight of holding his father’s entire aura in his mind while he cataloged it…he felt like he’d been studying for 15 hours straight.
He nodded wearily, stretching his stiff back. “Yeah, but it’s only half of the equation. I need to do the Genetic Analysis now before I can Affix it.”
James eyebrows rose. “So it’ll actually let you Affix my Skill?”
“It seems so,” Terry said with a shrug.
James whistled as he sat back. “Wow, Terry. Just…wow.” He shook his head with a snort. “That’s incredibly powerful. If you can get some other Awakened to sit for three hours while you catalog their powers, you’ll—”
“Three hours!” Terry burst out. “That was three hours!”
His father chuckled. “Three and a half, actually. I was going to call it after twenty minutes, but you were in the zone. After the ninety-minute mark, I felt you finish.” He snorted. “But then you started back at the beginning, going over the entire thing a second time. I didn’t realize you were so meticulous.”
Terry reeled into the couch, thinking back on the analysis. It had felt like a while, he figured maybe thirty, forty minutes. Where had three hours gone?
Then another thought hit him and he stomach dropped.
“That was only an F-rank Skill,” he said with a defeated tone. “Cataloging an A-rank Skill would probably take weeks…”
James canted his head, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Well…yeah. Did you think you’d be Affixing A-rank Skills tomorrow?” he asked with a light laugh.
Terry pursed his lips, giving a half-hearted shake of his head.
James' expression went neutral. “Oh, you did.”
Terry shifted awkwardly with embarrassment. “I…guess I did. I expected them to downgrade to F maybe, but I was still excited about the prospect I suppose.”
“That’s understandable,” James replied. “I would be thinking the exact same. Boy, imagine cataloging my Summon Skill and drawing Skol and Hati to you?” He laughed to himself. “That would be incredible.”
Terry’s eyes bugged out. “Do you…do you think that’s possible?”
James looked off thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Terry, the only thing I know for certain is, nothing is certain. But I do know this: I want to see what happens after you do the Genetic Analysis…”
Terry’s eyes lit up, his heart racing with excitement. Would he really be able to Affix the Body Tempering Skill and start ranking up his Attributes? The thought reminded him of the other notification that had flashed in his vision.
“Oh, I forgot. My Attributes updated. The System said to look at my Status Sheet for more info.”
“Fantastic. About time,” James replied. “Just think Status Sheet and it should open up. You’ll be able to alter your chat name and nameplate there as well.”
Terry nodded, then very clearly pronounced the words in his head.
Status Sheet!
Status Sheet
Class
Alterant (F)
Skills
Metaphysical Analysis
Genetic Analysis
Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation
Affixation Slots
1 (F) — free
Attribute Ranks
Physical Average: F2
Strength: F2
Speed: F4
Toughness: F1
Perception: F2
Presence Average: E4
Aura Projection: E2
Aura Control: E4
Aura Perception: E7
Mental Average: F0
Chronoception: F0
Visual Processing: F0
Auditory Processing: F0
Public Information
Name: Terrence Fairway II
Class: Alterant (Hidden)
Overall Rank: F (Hidden)
Attribute Ranks: (Hidden)
The first thing he did was change his public name to Terry. With that out of the way, he regarded his Attribute Ranks. He was really pleased with his Aura Attributes all ranking in the Es; it felt rewarding after all the hard work he had done with Crunch. His Physical Attributes were a little lower than he had hoped, considering he had been working out with Whipvine nearly every day for months. But what really miffed him were his Mental Attributes.
“I’m F0 in all my Mentals,” he complained. “What gives?”
His father laughed, then held up his hand when Terry narrowed his eyes. “That’s common, Terry. The only people I know that started out higher are Savants and world-class athletes.”
“Athletes?” Terry’s brow knit. “Why would athletes have higher Mental Attributes?”
James shrugged. “I don’t claim to have a deep understanding of the why, but I’ve been told that elite athletes have incredibly heightened instinctive visual and auditory processing. It’s not something I’d be concerned about. Your Chronoception, and Processing Attributes will naturally increase with your Physical Attributes—though at a slower pace. It only makes sense. Imagine someone moving as fast as Whipvine perceiving time at an F0 rank? He’d lose track of his own movements.”
“I’m more interested in your Aura rankings,” James said, leaning forward.
“E2 Projection, E4 Control.” Terry smiled looking at the last Attribute. “And E7 Perception.”
James mouth gaped open, his eyebrows climbing his forehead. After a moment of shock, he blurt out, “E7! You’re practically in the Ds!” He shook his head with disbelief. “Terry, that’s phenomenal.”
His skin flushed at his father’s praise and he shrugged casually. “My Physical’s pretty low, though. Mostly F1 or F2, with Speed at F4.”
“That’s respectable actually. Very solid starting Speed ranking. And if you can affix my Body Tempering Skill…” His head tilted suggestively. “You’ll be pushing the Physical E ranks in a couple weeks.”
“That long?”
His father scoffed. “Yeah, that long. And that’s only if you run the Skill routinely. But I did warn you, it’s painful as all get-out. Even most Duelists only temper in bursts. It took me years to get my Physical Attributes into the Ds with an upgraded version. And there were stretches months long where I avoided it like the plague.”
“But you just ran it for three hours!” Then he realized why his father had wanted to pull him out of his Skill. “Dad! You should have said something! Wait, you did, didn’t you? I’m so sorr—”
“Terry, please,” James replied with a dismissive wave. “I can handle a little pain for you to get this kind of experience. Plus, this was only an F-rank version of the Body Tempering Skill and I’m capped out on what it can offer. The pain was minimal compared to when I first unlocked it. The D-rank version would have been a different story.”
That put Terry slightly more at ease, but he still felt terrible he hadn’t even considered the pain his father was enduring for him to catalog the Skill. He had been so eager to finish the genetic component analysis so he could actually begin tempering. But now…
“So, what do you say?” his dad asked. “Should we finish cataloging this Skill or what?”
Terry double-taked, his eyes wide. “You can’t be serious? I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
“Oh, Terry, this is nothing.” A knowing smile touched his lips. “In fact, I don’t envy you. With F-rank Physical Attributes, running this Skill is gonna be a shock to your system. Let’s see if we can finish the cataloging tonight and I can walk you through a short body tempering session.”
Terry scanned his father’s face for a moment, looking to see if the man was just putting on a brave front for his son. But he had to admit, he was incredibly eager to begin body tempering to boost his Attributes.
“If you’re sure…”
James aura began condensing once more and Terry knew the Skill by sight now.
“I’m sure. Let’s do this.”
Terry nodded, reaching out his hand now instead of his aura sense. When their skin touched, a new notification appeared.
Metaphysical component cataloged…
Genetic-Metaphysical component detected…
Genetic Analysis commenced…