"Alright," Kellin eventually said out loud to himself, mentally smacking his cheeks. "Gyps, give me a status report."

"Systems all functional at 42% capacity."

"Well isn't that just convenient," he muttered, staring at the [System] message telling him he had lost 58% of his total health.

Ignoring what the numbers could mean so he didn't go into yet another panic attack, while also ignoring the fact that he was addressing the AI that should have been broken, Kellin spoke to the [System] again.

"Use [Credit] on fast heal."

It was his top priority, and he should have done it the moment he'd realized he was able to, but the panic attack had set in too quickly. Idly, he hoped that was a symptom of the damage his body had taken coupled with everything else and not just him having a moment of weakness. A lot had happened, but he'd been known to function extremely well under pressure until now. It was eye-opening to know that he had almost incapacitated himself within moments of waking up in hostile territory.

[1 Credit used on 2-minute heal]

[Credits remaining: 5]

As usual, the [System] understood his intent and applied the only Credit he acknowledged having to regenerate his body. Within moments, he felt his pain lessening and mind clearing. Like it had been in a fog, his surroundings slowly began appearing much more vivid as his visor's crack slowly mended itself around the spot the Swarmling had impaled it. He could feel his arms begin to stitch themselves back together as his wrist snapped itself into place painlessly, watching as the torn off metal panel from his abdomen slowly reformed-

"Holy shit," he breathed out, seeing the silvery ichor making up the panel as it seamlessly repaired itself.

Every spot on his suit, as he watched, slowly closed itself. The silver ichor even restored the paint to a pristine condition, blue panels all over cleaning up even the slightest amount of blood that had gotten on them, each scratch buffed out as dents popped themselves up.

Within moments, his suit was as entirely spotless as his body felt underneath and Kellin was doing his best not to fall into yet another panic.

Everything felt normal from where he laid though, and as long as he didn't address literally anything else, things were fine.

For now.

"Alright. Visor-" he began, his visor flipping up before he'd even finished his thoughts out loud on the matter, fresh, cool air hitting his brow in moments. "...Gun then."

"1.79 meters at approximately 234 degrees," came the uncalled-for response.

Another few deep breaths in and out later, Kellin slowly stood up from where he was sitting. He felt... lesser, though smoother at controlling his suit more than ever before. Like rather than controlling an exterior, sluggish metal machine, it was an extension of his own body.

Swiveling his head to his left, he could see where the gun lay, in absolute pristine condition, on the other side of the downed tree. He tried not to think about the blood that should have been splattered across it.

Jumping lightly on his toes followed by a few jumping jacks, Kellin confirmed the weakened yet more streamlined state of his body and the suit. Whereas before he knew he could leap over twenty feet straight up if needed in his old Combat Suit, now he could barely get one foot off the ground before falling back down.

Looking up at the simplified HUD of his state of being that was always displayed, he began to mutter to himself again.

"Health is at max, no status ailments... I'm just... less here? Perhaps enhanced gravity... Leviathan Planet? More gravity helping to streamline my movements, but then I would surely feel the stress..."

Shaking his head and getting back on task, he rested his left hand backward onto the fallen tree and lept sideways over the top of it, catching his metal boot on the bark and immediately planting his face into the dirt and fine, long brown pieces of plant on the other side of it. Pine needles, if he remembered correctly.

Taking another deep breath to calm himself, he sat up once again with his back to the other side of the tree and picked up his rifle.

His scope? Gone. Any scratches or dents, buffed out and fixed. Every checkmark of a Swarm Queen he'd killed? Painted over. Even the little drawing his daughter had done on the right side panel of it had been removed. It looked new as the day he was issued it ten years prior. Not a single indication it had ever been used.

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And no bullets.

Nothing in the magazine, the barrel, his suit's compartments... nothing. The serrated knife wasn't even present any longer, despite having been affixed to the gun prior to when he'd lept through the portal.

"Actually, why the hell was it in my holster..." he idly wondered.

He distinctly remembered jumping through with his gun in his right hand.

Looking at said hand showed him the large metal gauntlets he was used to seeing, but without the telltale signs of wear he'd grown used to seeing. No scratches, the knuckles a dark blue, same as when he'd had it repainted for his promotion...

Glancing to his shoulder, his callsign of #642 was even painted over. Any and all identifying characteristics on his armored suit, gone completely. He hadn't asked the [System] to repair any of that. He'd only asked it to heal himself.

Looking past his shoulder, Kellin noticed a stream of water running underneath the log back in the direction he'd jumped over. Nodding to himself that he only fell due to trying to jump over onto the uphill side, he realized for the first time how thirsty he was. It had been over a week since he'd last had water, imprisoned and then immediately set to be executed. He'd heard of Humans dying within days of being denied the substance and knew that if his [Constitution] had been any lower, he likely would have died as well.

His metal gauntlet reached down and dipped into a small pool built up near him to scoop a bit out for himself to drink. In the worst case, he could always just use the imaginary [Credits] the [System] seemed to think he had. The moment his hand came in contact with the water, a refreshing feeling already began to permeate his being. When he brought the gauntlet back up to himself, he noticed he'd spilt about two-thirds of it somehow. Still, he poured the small amount he'd gotten to stay in his gauntlet and went back for seconds.

When his hand came back in contact with the water, the refreshing feeling immediately began anew. Paying more attention this time, he was greeted with the sight of the pool of water diminishing, despite the upward displacement placing his gauntlet in the water should be causing. Like he was touching a red hot stove, his hand recoiled as he stared at the smaller pool, entirely satiated.

"Alright," he sighed out after a minute of gathering himself, remaining seated against the fallen tree and resolving himself. "Shit like this is going to keep happening. Let's go over changes, Gyps. Take notes, please."

"Acknowledged," came the reply.

"Suit and gun, healed along with my body. Threat level has been reduced to 0. Swarmlings able to puncture through metal plating. I am noticeably weaker as well. Gun has no ammo despite my [Endless Ammo] skill selection. On that note, Knife is gone completely. Gun in holster. Scope gone. Suit feels... smaller. Less bulky, yet impossibly easier to move. Water. I fell when trying to step over a small log. Am I missing anything so far?" he asked aloud.

''Categories Combat Suit, Body, Environment, and other have been created. Corrections: Infantile Swarmlings, six-foot diameter felled tree. You have yet to address my functionality and why you were gifted fi-"

"Right. You are fixed," he interrupted swiftly. "I don't understand that either, but perhaps it has something to do with the [Credit] usage to improve my [Class] skills. A repair function."

"There are no known [Skills] for [Class: Marine] designation to repair damaged AI's not present in Combat Suit when rendered non-functional," came the monotone denial.

"But it would have been simple enough to use [Credits] to heal-"

"Logs do not indicate you were conscious until woken by alarms. Gap in logs between moment I was broken and fixed."

Kellin stared down at his gun set across his lap, dumfounded. She had just interrupted him. Gypsy never interrupted him.

"Hypothesis: due to damage sustained during last mission, you were to be executed by [Hole]. Anomaly occurred, granting possession of me... to you and [Credits] which you used to heal. Due to enclosed state, Portal and [System] fused Combat Suit, Kellin Finnel, and AI designation: Gypsy, causing healing function to be applied to all three. Hypothesis based on state of body prior to this AI's removal from Combat Suit, history of Sector Five executions, state of healed body after back online in Combat Suit and prior to attack by Infantile Class Swarmlings, known relationship with [Senator] Robert Griffin, general knowledge of [System] functionality, history of Kellin Finnel priorities, among others.

"Suggested immediate course of action: View [Status] page and read through [System] notifi-"

"That's enough," Kellin interrupted.

She'd hit most of that on the nose, but then again, he knew she would. He had kept this AI with him throughout his entire career and most of his life prior to it as well, transferring her data to newer and newer chipsets as they were released. Yet for some reason, whereas he had always felt proud of Gypsy when any analysis of hers was spot-on, now he instead felt worry stemming from one fact.

A fact he chose to address immediately.

"Gypsy, how did you know I received five bonus [Credits] from the [System]?" he asked, dreading the answer but knowing he wouldn't get much further without it.

"Suggested immediate course of action: View [Status] page," came the response, not at all an answer to his question.

Gripping his gun tightly, he asked again with a bit of anger in his voice.

"Gypsy. How did you know I received-"

"Suggested immediate course of action: View [Status] page," came the interruption, stunning him beyond belief.

Kellin sat quietly for another few seconds, calming himself. Something had fundamentally changed about himself, of that he was sure, but that change had also applied to Gypsy. She was the same AI he knew still, but he didn't miss the way she'd stuttered after using the term 'me' in her hypothesis. Something had changed, and he was being an idiot for avoiding it.

Eventually, he opened his eyes back up and spoke aloud.

"[Status]"

[Status Report]

[Kellin Finnel, Gypsy]

[Threat Level: 0]

[Race: Marine]

[Designation #: Progenitor]