I got to my apartment, and cleaned up (4NBs), dropped off my gear except my under armor and Avenger, and decided to find some food, plenty of it. It was getting late, but in Beltway ARCs something is always open.

I took the lift up to Floor 175, saw a sign that showed me the food services where on floors 180, 185, 195.

I headed up to 180, and poked around. They seemed to have a good selection of offerings.

Food in 2121 is plentiful and usually cheap.

Only so many species survived the shenanigans of the last century. Modified corn, potato, and kelp make of the basis of any vegetables you see. Yeah they did some further adjustments to say, a slapped together carrot, to imitate the flavor and texture of a carrot, but at the end of the day it's really just corn, potato, and or kelp. Sugar, corn sugars. Flour, potato flour. Lettuce, modded Kelp, so on and so forth.

Spices and herbs are in a similar boat, mostly synthetic, but a few did survive, like mint. Bizarrely, Chamomile made it too.

Meat on the other hand got a little luckier. Not in the sense that a lot of animals survived, but their full genetic profiles did. Everything was vat grown, like as a mostly headless body, functioning organs and all. The nutrient baths they are grown in contain some kind of DNA manipulating nanites.

Short life spans. No worries. Well less worries. Not going to stress over it. Much.

This ensures that the meat had the texture and fat and flavor of the animal it was based on. Supposedly. Milk, cheeses and Eggs were all produced through similar processes. Now, the lore did suggest that the base proteins used were from insects, and bacteria. But no one except the Agri-techs know.

So I'm going to try to pretend that that wasn't the case. Sometime what you don't know, right?

One thing, I was really appreciating about this world, no one stared, they must have assumed I was an exotic Fulm, or even Biomodded, that's bloody expensive though.

Thousands of people of every description, all in various states of Metal roamed about looking for their preferred face stuffing.

ARCs for the most part were relatively safe. Especially the higher you go. So people were generally relaxed. Armed but relaxed.

It reminded me of a Mall, and while my nature sense was freaking out, unsure what to make of all the Metal, I maintained a peaceful calm. I still enjoyed watching these people, Tinkered out though they were. They had hopes and dreams, even now. They could laugh and cry, that was human enough, for now.

Which begs the question, how would my Troll regeneration react to Metal. I mean in some cases trolls can regenerate severed limbs, and in extreme cases each part can regenerate a whole troll. I doubt I'll ever have that level of regen but what I did have might reject Metal all together. Something to ponder, maybe experiment with later.

Oooo, a Pizza Joint. They catered to most tastes. Even the Heresy of Pineapple! (AN: Brothers break out the Heavy Flamers! Okay, I couldn't resist, but I don't actually care what you get on your pizza, as long as you leave me alone about mine. Joking is fine, but don't take it seriously. Besides, there are much, much worse things to put on a pizza. Shudder.)

I ordered two large (24") Meaty Delights, with ham, sausage, beef, crumbled bacon, Exxtra spicy peperoni, and bits of salami. A third large pizza with Habanero, Bell Pepper, Onions, olives and tabasco. All of them had sweet and smoky sauce mixed together, extra mozzarella, provolone, asiago, and a bit of cheddar. Well done. A pitcher of Zot Cola.

30 NBs. Not bad.

When they were done, I sat down. Thankfully most places had chairs and stools to cater to Fulmed out folk, so while maybe small they can handle my weight.

The first bite of Meaty Pizza was...good. The flavors seemed right and the textures. Sure my nature sense was gibbering at me that something was wrong, but it was faint. So I shrugged and kept eating. I particularly enjoyed putting a slice of the Pepper pizza on top of the Meaty pizza and nomming both at the same time. The sheer cacophony of flavors was overwhelming and yet merged into a pleasant whole. The Zot was a little too sweet, but was good for the reason I like to drink soda with pizza, to help cut the grease with the acid in the pop. Helped to tone down that heavy feeling, from greasy goodness.

Maybe not full but at least satiated, I roamed around some more on some of the other floors. Watching people and marveling at the sheer variety of insane gadgets and devices and toys people could buy. You think of it, it was here somewhere.

After I walked off the food, I headed home. I locked up, I had extra locks on the door instead of just needing my ICBD, and laid down. I had to curl up on my side to fit, but it worked and soon I was zonked.

I woke to notices.

[ You have gained 12300 Character Exp. ] Ah, that's the stuff right there.

[ Two Factions have offered to sponsor you. ] Wait, what?

I thought I was done with all of that.

[ They still watch you, I can't completely cut them off. A Faction that fulfills it's obligations can be of benefit to you. Thus, I will pass on their offers, you need not accept any of them. ]

I mulled that over.

Okaaay. I don't like that, but let's see 'em.

[ The Courts of the Fae-Born has offered to sponsor you.

You receive title: Knight of the Courts. (This unlocks titles)

A Stipend of 10 GC, 10 MC and 10000 credits per day until personal Authority reaches Baron Level.

Obligation: One year each of service to the Queens of the Courts and their Ladies. This would be 18 years of direct service. You would not be able to refuse direct orders. ]

Sure it's a lot of coin, now. Heh.

Oh, hell nah! First, the Fae concept of time is fluid, a year can be twisted beyond belief. They could argue they meant a year on planet Greshon, which takes 785 of my years to circle it's star. Unspecific terms would ALWAYS be abused. It didn't matter how nice they are, or how much they liked you. They'd consider it teaching you a valuable lesson. ALWAYS check the terms.

And the title itself is an obvious trap, it would already have obligations to the Queens, Ladies, Kings and Lords. Once involved I would never really be free unless I somehow became stronger than them. Which frankly, you couldn't count on. Even the nicest would undermine you. Again lesson. Don't put yourself under the power of another, unless you have no other choice, including death.

Even then, Fae Blooded beings are bound by their words, at some point, if I'm not already, I will be too. That's why they are so good at deceit, learning to lie without actually saying a lie. Twisted. They are Masters of it. Often you would find, they didn't even do or say much, and you really fucked yourself over. Argh!, no, just no.

They have their good points, but I literally couldn't protect myself from them, yet. Maybe I'll make contact when it can be on more equal terms. Even then check it a thousand times first.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Next.

[ The Bastion of Hope has offered to sponsor you.

Oath of Fellowship.

Training and Knowledge.

Obligations: Speak no untruth, Defend the innocent, Serve the Law, Serve Order. ]

Victor sputtered, had they been watching him? The fuck was this?

No way in hell. I'd never be a Paladin. The Law can be wrong, Order can be wrong, I reserve the right to tell them to fuck off. The Law fucked me with my ex-wife. Why would I trust the law, when it is always so easily subverted?

While I didn't have a problem with defending the innocent, I'd bet our definition of who that covers would be different.

"I'll pass for now, Guide, Thank you."

To make sure my Info Dump was accurate I checked my ICBD contacts.

Saul the Spider.

Rita the Tinker. (Since the expectation is Reeta, I'd like to say her name is pronounced Rit-a, like a Writ. ) I supposedly helped her with Metal supply issues, with an Ex-girlfriend. Sigh. Drama. I'm too old for this shit.

Tinkers are Doctors specializing in Metal, Installation, Treatment of Metal related issues, Upgrades of existing Metal. Some even took a crack at making their own Metal.

Joshua the Data Smith. Hates the real world, so I had to bail him out of some meatspace issues. Forgets to pay rent. He really didn't get my Derp(Luddite) ways. I was worse than a dinosaur, I was like something from the Cambrian Explosion.

Data Smith or just Smiths, are the programmers and hackers of the day. They forged the mobs that run or trash the ISL, they crafted the wards that kept your Metal untouched by rogue Smiths.

I called Rita to set up an appointment. While I suspected failure, there were a few things I'd like to try before I gave up on Metal. It could be useful. Plus, layering. Hehe.

Tomorrow 1:00 pm. Okay. I've got time. Let's do some thinking.

Time to think about what I'd not been dwelling on, since yesterday. That was Slagged. That wasn't a base. That was a flop house.

There was nothing there, no remains from Scrapped people. Cryos they may have been, but there was no way those rusted fools Cyced a Towertop girl, one decent Corp Op and they'd have been canned. Something stunk, and I hoped that wouldn't splash back on me.

This didn't smell of Guide fuckery either.

I was sure Saul wouldn't tell me a thing, he hadn't already. I might never really know, but shit like that bothered me.

Sometimes in Life, you just don't get the answers. Hell, most of the time. Didn't mean I liked or accepted it. I really got brainwashed by G.I. Row as a kid. Knowing is half the, something, something. I don't remember, I was busy doing homework and making character sheets.

Thinking about that, I needed, to get my Fire in order, Armor too.

I could go ahead and integrate the Puma but I wanted to get it serviced and modded first, or trade it in for something bigger. I could repair my Armor, but I wanted to check out local options. Some of the metals and ceramics were nothing sort of sci-fantasy.

Also, I needed something for close work other than the spear.

I had no good way of carrying it when I needed a free hand, and I hated dropping it, or having to backtrack to collect it. I needed something with a sheath or loop or magnet. Hell needed more tactical gear in general, Amos and the guys did great, but I wanted something more militant. Extra storage and pockets.

So I put on the armor, the Avenger and the Puma. I left the BGH, just wrong kind of gun for here. Sure it'd probably put down a fulm, but the ammo count and speed just wouldn't cut it.

I headed back up to floor 175 where I'd seen a Gun Store down the way.

The American Federation of City States, which includes Beltway City, The Hat-Middle Plains City - Stating at what was Kansas and going almost to the Northwest Territories of what used to be Canada, The Blob - Northeast City The remains of New York, Philly, Boston, Toronto, Montreal all part of the Blob. Plus a few others. It was a monster covering all of North America. Except for the Glowy bits.

The AFCS had for whatever reason made the former 2nd amendment the first of their new Bill of Rights.

People of this new Nation really liked their guns. It made the Arbiters' job harder but they loved it too, they always had justification to shoot whoever they wanted.

The normal Police not so much. People hunted down asshole cops, even other cops. That said, for the most part Beltway Cops are good and decent people doing their jobs. Which tends to end up being body clean up. Haha.

The Shop's name was Fire in the Sky. Cute.

Molly was even cuter.

6' 3" Blonde, Blue eyed, skin like the driven snow. Her gun oil stained tank top show she was in great shape. Minimally noticeable Metal. A think my hearts beat a little faster. Leaning on the counter like she had no cares. The selection of firearms behind her, seemed to set off her eyes. Bad Victor.

"Hello. Welcome to Fire in the Sky." Silk and smoke sliding into my ear, even my nature sense was reacting.

A jolt went through me. Huh, I thought I was too old to feel that anymore...oh right. Kari flirted sure, but I had a feeling that wouldn't go anywhere.

This was different.

As an Alfar, even a Giant, I'm a kid. I'm going to have to deal with these hormones for maybe thousands of years. Fuck, and she'd die, in a hundred years maybe a decade or two more if she fulmed out.

Argh! Why was I thinking about this, focus on business. Shook my head, trying to clear it.

Okay Victor, we have to sit down and think this shit out. We can't go through life alone, it ain't healthy. We got the Woen and the trees, but that ain't what we meant.

What the fuck was this, rambling shit in my head?

"You alright, Big Guy?" She cocked an eyebrow at me.

"I'm stunned, give me a moment, I'm processing." My tone, I hoped came off as a joke. Yup. I was sooo smooth.

"Ha, that's new. Really like guns, huh Shade." Oh good return.

My mind was feeling sluggish. What was going on?

"Sure do, which is why I'm here. I'm Victor. I picked up this Puma CZ176 on a job yesterday, I'd like to get it serviced and modded out. Also, I'd like to see what you could do about this old armor." I grinned, like an idiot. Stop being a fool, Victor!

"Well, let's take a look." She had the Puma apart fast.

She went over every piece. Her eyes must have been Metal. She knew her trade very well.

"There's some microfractures in the receiver. I'd have to rebuild it, or swap it. other than that nothing wrong with it a little cleaning won't fix. Tell you what, I got and sweet piece, called a Banshee, it's heavy and kicks like a fulm, but you look like that's no trouble."

She pulled up a big Firearm, oh it's a minigun. Sweeeeet! Images of mowing down hordes of enemies, danced in my brain.

"Ah no, as sweet as that is, I usually need something more tactical." Shaking my head.

She sighs and puts it back.

"Aww, well, can't blame a girl for trying. How about a nice Lion it's the Puma scaled to .50, I even have a stabilizer for it, straps right on. So you can go hands free when needed." Yup, just like she said it was a beefier Puma, clean aggressive lines.

[Lion CZ-201

Tier 0

Type: Rifle - Semi Auto or Burst Selectable

Ammo: .50

Capacity: 10 round box mag

Damage: Devastating to Obliterating

Iron Sights / Argon Muzzle Break / Back mounted mechanical stabilizer

Effect: Depends on Ammo ]

"Ooo, I like. You have a extended mag setup for this bad boy?" I hefted it, it felt good. Maybe 30lbs.

"Alright, 15,000 NBs, let me keep the Puma, and I'll kit it out, for tactical quieter single pop to a full on fire-fight." She was grinning, she already knew I wanted it.

No clue if it's a good price, and I was starting to realize I couldn't get a good read on her.

"Sure." Nodding. Damn, I could look at her all day.

Everything seemed to be going well, too well, but something was sideways. It always was.

"Let's see that armor."

She clears the counter.

I pull off the over armor, the vambraces and the boots. She examined them. She got a stunned look.

"Victor this is Silk real silk and kevlar. In the boots, that's gel foam, and actual rubber. Where did you...no don't tell me. Please sell me these, I can setup you up with heavy assault armor that'll perform better. Not since before the Phage, no...I'm not going to take advantage, look Victor this is worth Millions as just an artifact, and that alloy while not as good as low grade Zorsteel, has at least two components not in the Datastream." She was excited but trying to reel it in.

Zorsteel, is one of those Sci-fantasy metals, A few millimeters thick sheet, untreated mind you, will bounce a 20mm anti-tank round. Treated it's basically indestructible. There had been reports of it surviving particle beams. It's rare and ungodly expensive, 100,000 NB an ounce untreated. It's usually alloyed to stretch it out.

Something had changed, my nature sense was upset, and my instincts were raging. There was a smell, it had been there before, but now it was overwhelming.

What was I thinking?

Every time she said my name little bolts of lightning seem to go off in my head.

Hard to think. She seemed like a good person. I could trust her.

"Huh, okay auction it off. I get half and you still set me up." Damn, I'd gone full simp. Sigh. Stupid hormones. It wouldn't even be able to fit.

Something wasn't right, a sound subtle was ringing in my ears. It's okay, she can help.

You know what, it didn't matter, when I got back to the Hub World, I could run down Amos someday to get more.

Hell, I kept forgetting I could buy some of the Mimirian Armor, who knows what that shit is made of, better than what I could get here.

As to the other, well, I'll just have to track down a Giantess someday or maybe a not completely batshit insane Sidhe or Alfar Woman. Stupid young again bullshit, I haven't even been on a date in twenty five fucking years. Can I just ask? No, not the time.

"Okay, yeah, I'm okay with this. Please make sure the armor has plenty of stowage options, and I need some knives or short swords for close and quiet work. Even hatchets maybe, or hell just give me of few of whatever you have."

It smelled so nice, and such a pleasant sound. I felt my thoughts floating. Such a pretty lady.

"I'll get everything ready by tomorrow morning. My eyes have taken your measurements, so you're good to go." Her huge smile, did little to make me feel better in that moment.

I felt I was losing something important, but no idea what. I couldn't remember.

What the hell just happened?

I grabbed the Avenger and went home too dazed to do much the rest of the day.