《Black Meridian》 Intro: "Higher" Education A transcript from an introductory lecture at Piora Lazuli University. Lazuli Island, off the coast of the Selatin Kingdom Sigmas. To some they represent hope. To others, tragedy. Today, they define humanity. Crystals that grant superpowers. Ancient intellectuals used the term to represent a summation of parts. Fitting, although the one difference between then and now is that they dealt in numbers. We deal with destruction. Or creation, if you''re so inclined. There is no limit to a sigma¡¯s capability. One may offer the flicker of flame from the tip of the finger, and another might create a small orb that can destroy a mansion. Another might sever the continent in half. Sigmas have sponsored diseases. They have created monsters of the night, the Vampires, and the abhorrent, hulking Giants. They have spawned numerous unnatural predators into our ecosystems and other monsters that feed on peasants for fun. They have opened breaches between realms and confirmed for us the existence of the fiery wasteland of Hell, along with the Demons that reside within. Look outside the windows in here. Can you see that black, desolate line of terrain across the sea? No, that isn¡¯t molten rock. There are no volcanoes around here. That is the Selatin Scar; it is entirely man-made. Take that into consideration the next time you mouth off in front of a noble. Yet we cannot ignore the upside. For every sigma that curates a plague, another can cure it. Farms can be seeded with ease. Flora and fauna granted a second chance at life. When we bleed, a Healer can seal it. Sigmas can terraform societies. And while that heretical Technocracy takes sigma technology too far, not even the harshest of critics from our kingdom can admonish all of their achievements.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The best part about sigmas, children: you can hoard as many as you want. Yes, yes, you can stop complaining now. I know you¡¯re not children. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re so proud to consider yourself adults. Well, here you might be able to sit tall and puff your chest out in a confident manner, but if you do that to the real powers in this world, you will quickly be acquainted with the worms. Lesson One. Know your station. The unfortunate truth about humans is that our souls are tainted with vice. We cannot change at that level, regardless of what some self-proclaimed ¡®sage¡¯ might tell you. Don¡¯t listen to them. Many of you have rebellious spirits, but to your betters, you must conform. There are those that are stronger than you. Smarter than you. Faster than you. More divine, blessed. Gifted from birth. Gifted by wealth and access. Skill. They are not your superior from these statistics alone, but these statistics indicate they have greater access to sigmas. Royalty. The Ten Paladins. Nobles. The Elementals. The Five Heroes. Even the Pentagon, if you believe in their existence. There are more great forces hiding in the wilds as well. All of them combined form our global elite. It is not unwarranted power they possess. When they can blow your head off with the snap of their fingers, you better learn to bow. Don¡¯t like that reality? Dedicate yourself to being their equal. Otherwise, the floor is waiting for your forehead. [Headmistress Piora Lazuli releases a heavy sigh] I know I¡¯ve taken a harsh tone with you all today, but unfortunately, I cannot phrase the state of the Sigma World any other way. This is our reality, and it is not bound to change any time soon. If this bothers you, I suggest you leave right now. If sigmas bother you, feel free to retreat to the ends of the world and live in solitude to escape them. For the rest of you¡­ Sit straight. Take out your notepad and listen up. It¡¯s going to be a long few years. 0-1.1 The Servant, Part One HODGE, a Greenwich peasant Hodge brushed his fingers together over the empty acre, and within a minute¡¯s passing, the budding seeds of lavender herbs sprouted and bloomed. The palliative scent filtering through his nose with a light and sweet intensity. So this is the smell of a new beginning, he thought. He held an open palm toward the evening sky. In it, the transparent, spectral image of a small crystal diamond, spinning as if his hand were a dias. At its center, a black core seemed to suck the dazzling starlight into it. The sigma possessed terrifying beauty. Wiping the sweat from his brow, the euphoric feeling of completion of a long day¡¯s work twisted into maniacal delight. He started laughing, at first a small chuckle that evolved into delusional hysteria. No, he wasn¡¯t insane. He just didn¡¯t care. The future was in his grasp. As the cool rush of wind brisked across the field, invading his baggy, plain clothes with a pleasant chill, Hodge smiled at his victory. The lavender he had just grown was merely an aesthetic touch to this true success. Around him, his little farm was crowded with a colorful array of crops. In season, out of season, local, exotic, it didn¡¯t matter. Any seeds Hodge could get his hands on, he planted. Plots of chili peppers sprouted next to corn stalk which was across the path from tomatoes next to asparagus next to potatoes and on and on and on. His sigma, Rapid Farmer, ensured their health and optimal ripening. All of it was completed over two weeks from planting top growth, and Hodge planned to harvest in the morning. For now, Hodge was content to savor the appearance of his fertile fields. The moment his fate changed replayed as a vivid memory. A simple peasant, born and bred in poverty with no aspiration to look forward to, wandering into the woods to collect firewood for the harsh incoming sting of winter. In his trek, he tripped over a small protrusion from the ground. A diamond, no a crystal. A sigma. Hodge had heard only rumors of their glorious power. Once he was acquainted with the treasure, the prospects of his remaining years changed. In his mind, every plant he seeded was replaced with a stack of golden Nibbles. Nobility was just around the corner. That¡¯s right, nobility. Hodge''s wife and daughter would no longer be forced to live below the roof of a decaying farmhouse. A piece of parchment in his bedroom possessed the plans for a manor in his name. The only thing left now was to wait for him to arrive. Jos promised that he would pass the notice along quickly. Jos promised a lot of things these days, but Hodge paid extra to ensure no delays on his new hire. A servant, apparently straight from tutoring at the top of Greenwich Mountain where Old Naniana used to bring baskets of food, buckets of water, and new attire woven straight from the yarn spools in her own home. Hodge believed that woman did too much for that ¡®private institution.¡¯ What even went on up there anyway? It should have been a regular school, but Hodge swore he could see the red glow of a fire or some other strange anomaly protruding from the summit. Regardless, whoever the servant was, he now belonged to Hodge. Well, so long as he was paid of course, but payment would no longer be an issue. When he dangled gold Nibbles in front of the servant¡¯s face, he could order whatever the hell he wanted. He would finally have some control in his life. Finally, finally! Now, if only the damn fool would arrive sooner! Hodge wanted to be away from Greenwich as soon as possible. The only thing that could sour his days anymore was more disgusting rumors of a raiding party in the area. His blood pressure spiked every time he heard another tale. Oops! The dreaming left Hodge stranded in the fields. Keeping his eyes locked onto the beauty of the crops caused them to lose some luster. Hodge would have none of that, so he hurried back inside, where faint gray streams of dinner wafted through the cracks of the back door. When he entered, Morgan was cooking a stew mixed with ten different, delicious flavors that flooded his nostrils. A luxury only afforded to their rapid farming rate. ¡°Corn, carrots, peas, and¡­pumpkin?¡± Hodge asked. ¡°It¡¯s a recipe I¡¯m testing. I hope you don¡¯t mind,¡± Morgan said. ¡°It¡¯s an odd mix, sure, but no gold lost in trying. You may test away till dinner.¡± Hodge watched her stir the pot. He imagined her standing there in the same pose, in a red velvet dress and a massive kitchen at her disposal, hair washed and tied back. When they married such a dream lay solely in the heavens, but his heart flooded at the dream''s genuine possibility in the present. ¡°Where¡¯s Heidi?¡± Hodge asked. ¡°She left shortly after you did this morning. She must have gone to play with the girls in Greenwich.¡± ¡°All day? Kids have much more energy than I did at their age.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long walk, Hodge. I wished you would have taken her to town with you,¡± Morgan said. ¡°I would have. Heidi never asked to go.¡± Morgan sighed. ¡°Fair enough, but the sun¡¯s about to set. She shouldn¡¯t be out there after dark.¡± ¡°She knows that. I wouldn¡¯t worry.¡± Morgan didn¡¯t seem comforted by that, but she nodded nevertheless. ¡°Anyway, did you get what you went for at the inn?¡± Hodge beamed. ¡°Yes! Best of all, he might even be here today. Jos said he¡¯d tell the man first chance he got.¡± ¡°That¡¯s wonderful, I guess. But have you made sleeping arrangements? When¡¯s he supposed to clean? To eat? To sleep? What tasks will he do?¡± ¡°He can just sleep on the floor,¡± Hodge suggested. She threw him a stern look. ¡°Honestly, you should have looked up on how to host a servant before hiring one. He¡¯s not an animal.¡± ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯ll think about it in time if he proves worthwhile to keep around. He¡¯s trained for the job. I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll have a plan in case we don¡¯t.¡± ¡°And where did you learn about him again?¡± ¡°A flyer,¡± Hodge admitted it was a bit crude as if drawn by a child playing with arts and crafts. But it was a rare opportunity in this backwater! The ad didn¡¯t matter if the quality of the servant was superb. And even if it wasn¡¯t, Hodge imagined he¡¯d be able to afford a replacement in six months or less. A minor inconvenience for a grander reward. Morgan didn¡¯t say anything further, but her posture said you¡¯re going to regret this.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Hodge didn¡¯t care. In this house¨Csoon to be a manor¨Che was king. The Rapid Farmer sigma seeded his family¡¯s future. As far as this servant was concerned, Morgan, Heidi and he were royalty. Hell, if he were as lucky as he was when he stumbled upon Rapid Farmer, maybe they would be one day. If there was one thing that Morgan was right about, however, it¡¯s that they didn¡¯t want to spoil themselves on the blessings of the rich so quickly, yet it was still so difficult to curb his enthusiasm. Why did the future have to always be so far away? Hodge kept himself busy with menial housework while he waited for Morgan to be finished. The sun had nearly fallen, but Heidi had not returned. Now he was starting to grow a bit bothered. Morgan tensed with raised shoulders and a pale complexion. They both jumped when there was a knock at the door. Hodge¡¯s heart was in his chest as he moved to answer it. There¡¯s nothing to worry about. At the same time, he was asking himself, why haven¡¯t I bought a gun? All the prosperous imported them from the Technocracy, so why had he waited so long? Not at all ready to face death but not enough of a coward to turn away, Hodge hesitantly opened the front door and almost screamed with an effeminate pitch. A lone man with dark hair and light skin stood in the doorway, a mischievous yet bright smile on his face. He wore simple clothing and had spots indicating an attraction to the dirt within the past hour. On closer inspection, more like the last ten minutes. His posture was weak, yet his build highlighted years of careful conditioning. He looked young, oh so very young. A hatched adult with a mind absent of wisdom. It all contrasted with ominous longsword sheathed at his side. He peeked inside, curious, and then held a note up and began to speak. ¡°This was posted on your front door.¡± For some reason, the stranger¡¯s behavior was odd despite the natural aura he emitted. He was definitely out of place, and seemingly oblivious to his surroundings as well. ¡°Are you Hodge?¡± he asked. Reluctantly, Hodge found the words to reply. ¡°Umm¡­yes. What do you want?¡± The stranger smiled. ¡°You asked for me. The old man told me you were accepting my offer.¡± ¡°Yes, for the servant¨C¡± ¡°That¡¯s me!¡± What? Hodge could not even comprehend what he just told him. From the expression of his wife, Morgan could not either. The stranger sniffed the air. ¡°Mmm. That smells delicious! I can tell the mistress is a wonderful chef. Oh, it¡¯s getting dark. May I come in, master?¡± Hodge looked back between his wife and the stranger as if waiting for her to do something, but she was as lost as him. ¡°There must be some serious mistake,¡± Hodge said. ¡°I asked for a servant. You know, like someone who cleans the house, cooks, lays my daughter to bed at night when we are unable to? I mean, I guess a bodyguard¡¯s fine, but I don¡¯t necessarily¡­ need one.¡± He hesitated at the end before his words came back to bite him. Oh, what he would give for a bodyguard right now. ¡°I¡¯m not a bodyguard. Well, I guess I could if you wanted me to be. It¡¯s just as the flyer said, I¡¯m a servant,¡± the stranger said. ¡°Is that why you asked me here? To clean? Cleaning it is.¡± He stepped inside, inviting himself in and leaving the note on the table. Then he took his sword from his belt and both Morgan and Hodge wanted to run. ¡°Do you have someplace for me to leave this? Somewhere safe, of course, for both you and I.¡± Hodge shook his head, so the man just left it by the door. Then he took a broom and dustpan and started cleaning. Sure, it was what Hodge asked him to do, but to see the man, this stranger, work so diligently without taking time to sit down and settle in was still a jarring sight. ¡°Let me know if you need anything at all. I¡¯m here for you this entire week,¡± he said. Alarms rang through Hodge¡¯s mind. ¡°Wait, just a week? Not forever?¡± The stranger soured. ¡°Unfortunately, yes. I wish I could stay forever, but I have a billion other masters to assist, so I have to limit my time. Although, I hear that there is a sigma that lets you copy yourself indefinitely. If I could get that then¨Cwow! Isn¡¯t this just a wonderful world we live in!¡± The hairs on Hodge¡¯s neck raised. He began to believe he might have just invited a lunatic into his home. Was this the real servant anyway? Jos said he would be fast, but this was a little too fast. Would the actual servant arrive later tonight after this one cut their throats in their sleep? Damn it! He wanted a servant primarily for the status, not for this pocket of trouble. Neither Morgan nor he stopped staring at the stranger while he worked. ¡°Umm, kind sir, would you mind telling us your name?¡± Morgan managed to ask. He looked up, beaming with psychosis. ¡°It¡¯s Zeta. And you don¡¯t need to honor me ¡®sir,¡¯ miss. I¡¯m here to serve you.¡± He said that, but neither of them had accepted it yet. ¡°Hmm. Let¡¯s see. You said ¡®cleaning, cooking, and¡­putting your daughter to sleep?¡¯ Where is your daughter, if you don¡¯t mind my asking? I¡¯d love to introduce myself to her as well.¡± Like hell you will. Fearing the thought of this man coming anywhere near Heidi, Hodge said, ¡°She¡¯s¡­away right now.¡± Zeta frowned. ¡°I see. The note mentioned her, I think.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The one at your door. I didn¡¯t read it because it¡¯s not meant for my eyes, master.¡± Hodge marched over to the table where Zeta left the note and picked up. He began reading, and his heart dropped. Morgan watched his body enter clammy, terrified perspiration. ¡°Hodge, what is it!" Even Zeta had stopped working to show concern. ¡°Hodge!¡± Hodge gulped and recited aloud. ¡°So, you think you¡¯re rich, huh? Then I¡¯m sure you won¡¯t mind donating some Nibbles to our startup enterprise. We¡¯ll be representing Greenwich from the east to west coasts of Axle Island with your funding. I think 10,000 might do. ¡°Of course, if that money is absent by the end of tomorrow, I¡¯m sure Heidi can help on her own. She''ll make a good sale. There¡¯s always some freak out there looking for¨C¡± Hodge had to stop; he would have puked if he kept reading. Morgan did, but she managed to make it to a bowl. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no¡­ First the ¡®servant,¡¯ now¡­ Heidi¡­ ¡°10,000 Nibbles. That¡¯s everything I¡¯ve saved thus far,¡± Hodge said. ¡°I¡¯ll go gather¨C¡± ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a prank, Hodge. We need the authorities,¡± Morgan said. ¡°No! These men, they signed themselves as the Greenwich Group. They¡¯ve been doing this to the others in town. I¡¯m sure it''s real, and any attempt at seeking greater help will reach their ears before help can arrive. God forbid what happens then.¡± ¡°Others? And you never warned me?¡± ¡°I planned to move us away before the end of the year!¡± Hodge shook his head, not even trying to hold in tears. "I thought there would be no need to fret when this town sat solely in our shadow. The only one not affected by any of this was Zeta. The first day on the job and Hodge¡¯s daughter is ransomed. Hodge wondered if Zeta was apart of their plot. No, how could he blame him? This man knew nothing of Hodge''s family. Zeta stopped cleaning and held his hand out, taking the note and examining. For a while, he was indifferent, but by the time he was done, he bit his lip and fumed. Why? Hodge was glad he cared, but for a stranger Zeta¡¯s expression was excessive. ¡°Master, you said they¡¯ve been doing this for a while, right?¡± he asked. Hodge nodded. ¡°How many victims do you estimate?¡± Hodge racked his brains. He still didn¡¯t understand why Zeta cared. ¡°Umm, seven, eight maybe. From what I¡¯ve heard they¡¯ve all been young girls in Greenwich.¡± Then he buried his head in his hands again. ¡°Dammit! I should¡¯ve seen this coming!" Morgan walked over. ¡°Hodge, it¡¯s okay.¡± She said that, but her puffy red eyes fought back waterfalls themselves. ¡°Just get the money.¡± ¡°No need.¡± They heard a voice from the door. Zeta stood and faced the darkened outdoors. He crumpled the note into a tight ball, tossed it in the air, grabbed and unsheathed his sword and cleanly sliced it into two rough hemispheres. ¡°Master, mistress, I hope you enjoy your dinner tonight. If you¡¯ll excuse me for a moment, those fools left you a meeting location.¡± 0-1.2 The Servant, Part Two ZETA ¡°Listen to me, Zeta. The most important element to maintaining a legacy is the precedence. Without it, you¡¯re future will be tainted with hypocrisy.¡± Out of everything the late Sir Gin Kagan taught him, the little bits of advice his mentor told him to enlighten a day¡¯s worth of pain were the only teachings Zeta retained passionately. His subconscious guarded them like a wyvern¡¯s treasure. Everything else he learned was fluff in comparison. It sickened Zeta that the men he was hunting dared to call themselves The Greenwich Group. How dare they adopt the namesake of the mountain, the village, and the lake? Greenwich was a place of tranquility. The very presence of kidnappers in the area soiled what it stood for, what Sir Kagan stood for. Regardless, they were humans, a part of Zeta¡¯s greater master, humanity. The only difference between them and the rest of the world was their deviance from humanity¡¯s goal of peace. Precedence. Their role in a greater perspective didn¡¯t matter. What mattered was how Zeta dealt with them. Death for the Greenwich Group meant death for all of Zeta¡¯s future foes, likewise if he gave them mercy. His first opponents since descending from the mountain. The overbearing weight of Zeta¡¯s responsibility sat on his shoulders. It may have been self-imposed, but twenty years of work and training were about to coalesce. The product would either be beautiful or terrifying. I really can¡¯t afford to screw this up. Zeta shook his head clear of the unnecessary pressure. His mind needed clarity, focus. Not anxiety. There was a job to do, lives at stake, and he was the only one in Greenwich with the ability to remedy the issue. In the note, the Group left a crude sketch of their location, and moonlight guided Zeta¡¯s path to that isolated plain. His feet dug into the ground with every step. One kilometer. Two kilometers. His body never broke a sweat as it carried itself across the land with minimal exertion. His foot would plant itself on the ground just long enough to shift his momentum but would waste no time overstaying its welcome in drag. He intentionally wore light clothing. The only significant weight being his sword, which in itself was a sleek, thin, long, pointed black blade. A perfect sprint, the result of refined conditioning. Zeta¡¯s breathing steadied. His heart beat as if everything were normal. At worst it was mildly agitated. After years of running in a thin atmosphere, Zeta had no issue managing the wealth of oxygen at sea level elevation. Sometimes there was so much he felt like he could drown in the air. Ahead, light parted way for his entrance into the open plain. Zeta emerged from the hedges with a sharp, aggressive burst of speed. His boots slid through the dirt, rolling mud into hills and bringing his pace to a grinding halt. His opponents were in leisure around a pile of crates most likely filled with stolen goods. The ones not sitting atop them bored were sprawled in sloth on the grass before him, exhausted after a day of kicking over anthills and beating the neighbor¡¯s dogs. Zeta couldn¡¯t confirm they did either of those things. He assumed so because they had faces only their parents could love. Young, oafish spawns fresh from their parent¡¯s cottages with the delusional belief that somehow joining this group of ¡°mercenaries¡± would be a valuable fruit for their future. There were about two dozen of them, more than Zeta expected. They reeked with the honor of thugs. Zeta immediately pinpointed a large figure near the back of the group, a bald individual with dirt-stained eyes and a scar crossing the corner of his lips, swelling it into a babyface. He leaned comfortably against one of the stolen crates, an arrogant smirk dominating his expression. ¡°Hmm. Someone must have screwed up delivering the note. It was supposed to go to an old sack of shit with a fat pouch of Nibbles like I requested,¡± he said, cackling as if his throat had been mauled. It had a booming baritone beneath it that attracted the attention of his dumbfounded companions. The ones who weren¡¯t already astonished by Zeta¡¯s sudden arrival turned their attention to him. With their captain¡¯s condescension as an invitation, they quickly adopted a similar arrogance towards Zeta. ¡°Or maybe, it did reach him, and Hodge decided to send a dog,¡± the leader concluded. Zeta stood straight. ¡°I suppose the answer to that is both yes and no.¡± He held up the chopped pieces of the note for them to see, then discarded it like the trash it was. ¡°I am in Hodge¡¯s employ, yet I act of my own accord. I¡¯ll cut right to the point. Where¡¯s Heidi?¡± ¡°Oh, you mean that promising working girl? Stay right there, I¡¯ll get her for you,¡± the leader grinned, baring two rows of muddled, yellowed teeth. Zeta grit his teeth. ¡°Working girl?¡± ¡°Relax, hero. I said promising. We haven¡¯t made her do anything¡­out of line.¡± ¡°Yet!¡± someone from the Group said. ¡°Huver, will you shut the hell up.¡± Zeta¡¯s hand neared his belt, where Black Meridian itched to be drawn. In his voice, Zeta collected a low growl with every word. ¡°The Greenwich Group, right? I know little of this world, but that might be the worst name I think I¡¯ve ever heard. I guess it¡¯s fitting when you consider the membership.¡± The Group started whistling, mocking his aggression. Two years ago that would have enraged Zeta, but the rage that benefit his own pride and nothing more had long been tamed by his classmates and Sir Kagan. When that laughter died down, the leader spoke once more. ¡°Do you not appreciate our sense of regional patriotism? Don¡¯t worry, I plan to rename it to the Axle Administration once we ¡®appropriate¡¯ the rest of this island.¡± ¡°Like you¡¯d get that far.¡± Zeta took his next step in the ¡®negotiations¡¯ and unsheathed Black Meridian, the gleaming obsidian blade posed for them all to see. ¡°If you don¡¯t return Heidi and the other girls you¡¯ve taken as well as the stolen goods, I¡¯ll shut your little band down here and now.¡± The Group frowned and snarled. Many readied their weapons and steadily grew closer. They were cheaply assembled, and it was downright sad that the wielders thought nothing of their weapons¡¯ poor condition. The leader raised a hand to stop them. ¡°Now, now, swordsman. No need to be hostile. I¡¯m perfectly willing to talk this through.¡± He turned to the nearest Group member, barking at him to go get the girls. The man ran off into the woods. The leader faced Zeta again, eyeing Black Meridian up and down. ¡°That¡¯s a fine bit of craftsmanship, although quite unexpected for someone out here in this backwater. Tell me, where did you acquire it?¡± Zeta maintained a static glare and said nothing. Hesitantly, a freckle-faced girl with brown hair, ragged clothes, and dirt-splashed skin came out of the woods along with four other girls her age, trailed by the member that went off to retrieve them. Heidi¡¯s eyes were red from crying and weary with fear. The leader grabbed Heidi by the hair and pulled her close, ruffling it violently. She started sobbing. Zeta took a provoked step forward, but the Greenwich Group did likewise to block his path. ¡°I¡¯m offended that you thought we¡¯d be willing to damage such prized goods,¡± the leader said, shaking Heidi. ¡°By the way, I don¡¯t believe we¡¯ve introduced yet. My name is Rog¨C¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I don¡¯t care about your name,¡± Zeta interrupted, ¡°But you should remember mine, it¡¯s Zeta, and its significance to you depends on how you act in the near future.¡± ¡°So passionate,¡± Rog said. ¡°You¡¯d make one hell of a Greenwich member.¡± Next to Rog, Zeta spotted one of the Groups¡¯ henchmen standing near Rog. Unlike the others, he tightly clung a spear to his thin, fragile fixture. As they locked eyes, the kid stiffened in icy fright, perspiring from every pore. He made a vain effort to be as intimidating as his allies. Zeta looked around for similar cases but found none. Everyone else had wholly bought into the delusion. ¡°You¡¯re interesting, Zeta, so let¡¯s make a deal. I have several offers on the table,¡± Rog said. ¡°The first option, I give you all five girls, and you hand over that valuable looking sword of yours. I trust you can accept that the sword is worth their lives?¡± Zeta¡¯s grip on Black Meridian tightened. ¡°Or, if that isn¡¯t satisfactory, here is the second offer. You drop the silly heroic demeanor, and I¡¯ll let you join my crew and receive a slightly higher cut than the rest.¡± The Greenwich Group murmured with spite. ¡°Boss, you can¡¯t let someone like him join us.¡± ¡°Yeah! Why are you givin¡¯ him a higher pay? He¡¯s nothing! Worth nothing!¡± Rog ignored them. ¡°That¡¯s what I have for you, swordsman. The third option is violence, but¨C¡± he pulled Heidi closer, and she shivered with fright as his face was inches away from hers, ¡°I don¡¯t think any of us want that.¡± A silence settled on the plain. The Greenwich Group observed Zeta with caution, its members ready to pounce on his slightest provocation. Zeta slowly sheathed Black Meridian. ¡°There were seven.¡± ¡°Pardon?¡± ¡°Seven to eight girls missing. I only see five, and I know all of them are missing because of you. Where are they? And I warn you, this is your judgment. You speak for the lives of all your men.¡± Rog turned away, his cheek flushing with pride as it contained a bold lie. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re¨C¡± ¡°They¡¯re gone, filth!¡± one of the henchmen interrupted. ¡°Sold. Sold! Halfway across the world by now! Some foreign noble¡¯s plaything, I bet.¡± Zeta¡¯s gaze fixed on Rog, but the Greenwich Group¡¯s leader had nothing to offer but a shrug. ¡°I guess I misplaced them.¡± Sorry, Sir Kagan. I tried the card of mercy. Five men surrounded Zeta, and as soon as Black Meridian was unsheathed, all five crumbled to the ground with a gash on their throats. Their bodies rained blood upon the ground. The smug air that accompanied the group evaporated as if Zeta had cut it as well. ¡°I¡¯d like to make a counteroffer. I keep my sword, take back the girls, refuse to do anything even remotely associated with you pieces of garbage, and all you have to do is run,¡± Zeta said. Rog arose in a fury, his eyes bulging with shock and rage. He must have imagined himself the king of Axle Island, at the finish line before he even started the race. In his mind, Zeta would have never dared to strike against him. ¡°You dare!¡± ¡°You got one crucial element fact, Rog,¡± said Zeta. ¡°You assumed I was a hero. That¡¯s incorrect. I am not a hero, I am a servant. My master is humanity, and as such, I would never lay a hand on a human if I didn¡¯t have to.¡± ¡°You just killed five of my men!¡± he cried. ¡°Correct, but I am not a hypocrite. I didn¡¯t slay humans, I slew monsters.¡± With no other options and Rog consumed with mania, he ordered his men to ¡°Kill him!¡± Heidi and the other girls screamed and tried to flee, but Rog¡¯s grip on Heidi¡¯s hair remained firm. Spears, pikes, even a javelin user and an archer in the mix. Each one charged with such an amateur nature that Black Meridian barely made an effort to cut them. Zeta could even close his eyes a couple times as he swung. What the Greenwich Group believed to have been an easy fight proved much more difficult as Zeta slipped in and out of their forces, making clean, painless slices with the training of Sir Kagan constantly at the forefront of his mind. It didn¡¯t take long for their loosely bound pact to break, and after a couple of their members went down without a scratch on Zeta, the rest of the Group dropped their weapons and routed, screaming into the woods. At the end of their panic, only two stayed behind. Rog locked Heidi next to him with his arm and lifted her small figure into the air. He extended his other hand outward and called ¡°Claws.¡± His fingernails elongated and sharpened into pointed needles of a lethal capacity, and he held them to the girl¡¯s throat. ¡°Is this what you want, huh! I¡¯ll give you the girl, all right, but you¡¯ll have to explain to Hodge why she¡¯s missing everything from the neck up!¡± He sweated as he spoke. His previous cool head proved to be nothing more than a mask for a fragile soul. ¡°A sigma? Fascinating. I never thought I¡¯d see two in one day.¡± His tone carried genuine glee, but Zeta still narrowed his eyes. He had seen a strange gray protrusion from Rog¡¯s nails since he arrived at the plain, but thought nothing of it until now. The wonder of sigmas was lost when they were used by ill hands. ¡°Ye¨Cyes! Yes, this is my sigma, Claws! It¡¯s a Modification, a sigma of evolutionary superiority.¡± ¡°And you planned to take over Axle Island with those alone? How pathetic. All those do is make you less of a human, and thus I was right in declaring you a monster.¡± ¡°Say that again,¡± Rog declared in desperation as he held Heidi tighter. ¡°Say it, I dare you.¡± Heidi screamed, so he yelled at her to shut up. Zeta sighed and spoke dryly. ¡°I don¡¯t have a single sigma of my own, which means you¡¯re probably stronger than me. I don¡¯t know why you¡¯re so frightened. If we dueled one on one, you¡¯d probably win.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not frightened!¡± Rog said. His voice trailed out because not even his crazed state could believe his own lie. ¡°But¨Cbut you bring up a point, swordsman! The other fools had big, heavy weapons like you, but they were slower to use them.¡± He let go of Heidi to flash his hands around. ¡°But claws! Claws are fast, short, nimble and just as lethal as any other blade! You don¡¯t stand a cha¨C¡± Then a trickle of blood came out of his mouth as he felt the thump of Black Meridian plunge into his chest. In his growing lunacy, he didn¡¯t see Zeta get closer when Heidi got out of the way. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that worked. The sad part is, I thought you were actually kind of smart,¡± Zeta said. Rog looked down at him for a moment, but it was cut short as he lost both consciousness and life. He crumpled to the ground as Zeta withdrew and sheathed his sword for a final time. Zeta took another look around at the fallen members of the Greenwich Group. He considered going after those who fled, but he realized that they would just go home. The guilt of what they had done would serve as a just punishment instead. No matter how much Zeta wanted to dedicate himself to doing so, he knew how fruitless it would be to go on an active pursuit of the trafficked girls, so he turned to the ones who were still around, hiding in the corner, sobbing in terror. Zeta stood in a place that concealed the massacre from their eyes while he kneeled next to Heidi and the others. They shivered as he approached, and Zeta didn¡¯t blame them. They were too young to differentiate between killers that wanted to harm them and others that wanted to save them. He was as scary to them as Rog was, and there was next to nothing that could cure that animosity. However, that was one of the acceptable prices to be paid in Zeta''s profession ¡°Do you know the way home?¡± he asked. They nodded, so he told them to hurry on. Before Heidi left, he added, ¡°Be strong, Heidi. If may take a while, but you cannot let these events cripple you. You have a loving family, and they want to see you safe now.¡± Zeta heard a spear drop and a man start bawling. He turned to face his next issue in need of resolution. Other than Rog, there was one Greenwich Group member who did not flee, the scrawny fighter with an overgrown stick. During the entire duration of Zeta¡¯s attack, the boy made no aggressive moves. As Zeta grew closer, he cowered. ¡°Hey,¡± Zeta said calmly. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± He stopped crying, confused as to why he was still alive. ¡°Come on.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Tid!¡± he said quickly. ¡°I see,¡± said Zeta. ¡°Tid, do you know why I did this? Do you know why I had to resort to bringing death?¡± He shook his head. ¡°They were my friends?¡± ¡°Partially, I guess. They were your friends, back when they were human. But somewhere along the way that humanity died, even though the body and the mind remained. This world is full of people like that. This ¡®Greenwich Group¡¯ consisted of the husks of man, nothing more.¡± Color returned to Tid¡¯s face as the shadow of death no longer loomed over him. ¡°Go home, Tid. I¡¯m sorry for your loss, but you have a future that Rog and the others could not share. I can¡¯t control your life, but if I were to make a suggestion, it would be to atone. Pack your things and travel the world in search of a cause. In my opinion, you owe it to yourself, to Greenwich, and most of all, to those girls.¡± Tid stood up and started wandering, looking back every second to make sure Zeta wasn¡¯t tricking him or preparing to stab him in the back. Zeta smiled as the kid grew further away, and when Tid was far enough, he broke into a run to Greenwich with the rest. When he was out of sight, Zeta remembered that it was time for him to go home as well. 0-1.3 The Servant, Part Three ZETA The previous morning. Admittedly, Zeta made more of a ruckus than he would have liked as he nailed the flyer to the tavern wall. He received a lot of cold and confused stares from the patrons, and the tavernkeep Jos only shook his head. The man promised to notify Zeta of any potential employers, but he didn¡¯t seem too happy about it. When Zeta was done, he bowed his head and sincerely apologized for disturbing the patrons¡¯ drinks. After passing him a round of bewildered looks, they concluded that he was just weird and ignored him, resuming their collective muttering. ¡°Zeta, you mustn¡¯t try so hard,¡± a creaky, aged voice said from the corner. ¡°The others didn¡¯t, but then again, they passed through without even bothering to stop in good ole Greenwich.¡± Zeta¡¯s head jolted to the speaker. His face beamed with joy. ¡°Nan!¡± Old Naniana sat alone at a table in the dark of the tavern, a gap-toothed grin splitting her lips. Zeta ran to join her. If Sir Kagan was the closest thing to a father to Zeta, than Naniana was the closest to a mother. She was the only one permitted to climb Greenwich Mountain and speak to the children at its summit. Well, it wasn¡¯t so much a matter of permission as it was willingness. Her age had caught up with her now, but several years ago she used to make a bi-weekly trip to the summit, carrying food and clothes and sometimes even toys, all grown and crafted by her lonesome self. Sitting down at her table, Zeta gripped Nan¡¯s hand with excitement. It had been months since they had last seen each other. She giggled. ¡°You¡¯ve grown into such a strong man, Zeta. Just as we expected of you,¡± she said. We referring to herself and Sir Kagan. ¡°Nan, are you saying my classmates never even stopped to say hello?¡± His face flushed with fury. ¡°No, no, Zeta. It wasn¡¯t like that,¡± she said. ¡°Don¡¯t be foolish. Like I¡¯d ever let them leave without speaking to me.¡± They both laughed. His classmates were cold, but even they had a warm spot for Nan. ¡°It¡¯s just that they were so eager to see the world they never stopped to ask if our dear little town needed assistance. You¡¯re the first.¡± ¡°Really?¡± The concept was both astounding and encouraging. As the last to leave the mountain, Zeta had always imagined his classmates would steal the thunder of every town he came across. But to find a place they had never touched, and so soon¡­ ¡°I¡¯m sure there will be someone who takes your offer, Zeta, although I¡¯d imagine the task will be mundane.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m willing to do whatever is asked of me. Anything. That¡¯s what Sir Kagan wanted of me.¡± ¡°Anything? Do be careful what you wish for,¡± Nan said. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be alright, whatever the job might be. But, Zeta, can you do me a favor?¡± His eyes sparkled with loyalty. ¡°Of course!¡± Nan smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t stay here too long. Take one job and go. All birds need to fly from the coup eventually. Especially someone with a heart like yours.¡± Zeta released her hand. His response popped out immediately. ¡°Yes, Nan! Thank you for everything.¡± Her eyes fluttered, and her grin widened. ¡°Go see the world, Zeta. It needs that spirit of yours.¡±
Zeta nearly gave Hodge a heart attack that night as he entered and announced his return. Hodge and Morgan jumped back from the tight embrace of their daughter, who arrived covered in dirt, grime, tears in her clothing and even a few splashes of blood. Zeta arrived in a similar state although with the mud and blood in excess. It was quite understandable that they would be a bit alarmed. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you, Zeta,¡± Hodge said as he recovered from death¡¯s door, steadying his heart with a hand to his chest. Zeta smiled. ¡°You don¡¯t need to worry about your daughter¡¯s safety nor the threat of the Greenwich Group any longer.¡± Hodge stared at him wide-eyed. ¡°Does¡­does that mean they¡¯re¨C¡± Zeta sulked. ¡°Unfortunately, I had no other choice. They wouldn¡¯t behave as humans should.¡± Hodge and Morgan retreated into their home, gripping Heidi by the shoulders and hiding her behind them. Their apprehension was strong enough to manifest into the physical world. Zeta could sense the force of fear emanating from the family, as intense as the sun¡¯s rays on a summer day. Zeta sighed. He figured this might happen. ¡°If my stay here is disturbing, I¡¯ll leave early.¡± The parents¡¯ faces twisted with a mixture of fear and hate, but they prayed silently that the situation would resolve itself. From their reaction, Zeta made his own conclusion and strove to leave, but then Heidi spoke up. ¡°He saved me,¡± she said. ¡°The stranger saved me.¡± ¡°I know, Heidi,¡± Hodge said. ¡°Thank you!¡± she continued. She almost burst through the gridlock of her parent¡¯s arms, but Morgan made sure she took no further step towards Zeta. Zeta turned and gave her a warm smile as he reached for the door. ¡°Wait,¡± Hodge called. Zeta met his eyes. They held reluctance, but also subliminal ease. ¡°I don¡¯t think anyone here understands your definition of ¡®servant,¡¯ Zeta, but I did request your services, and I¡¯d be less of a man if I denied receiving them, especially after what you¡¯ve done for us. Stay for dinner at least. Morgan calls it Sigma Stew,¡± he said, referring to the meal on the table. It was no steak, but it smelled delightful. Zeta grinned. ¡°I accept, but we should all eat together.¡±
They offered to let him stay there for a week, but Zeta told Hodge that one night would be enough. They didn¡¯t really have space, but Zeta was content with a blanket, a chair, and a warm fire rising through their children. Sleep that night was one of the most pleasant experiences of his life.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Heidi was staring him in the face when he woke up. She beamed as if seeing him alive was a miracle in and of itself. ¡°Cool! Cool! Cool!¡± she was saying. ¡°Heh. What¡¯s so amazing, Heidi?¡± Zeta asked. She pointed to him, and with her other hand pointed to Black Meridian, which was lying by the door. ¡°Cool!¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± said Zeta. ¡°I heard what you said last night. When I grow up, I want to be a Servant of Humanity too!¡± ¡°Really?¡± Zeta had always considered himself just a servant with a billion masters. That particular title didn¡¯t occur to him. ¡°Servant of Humanity, I like it. Just remember, Heidi, that you need to grow big and strong and fearless enough to face the world. And never forget your family, either.¡± She nodded with vigor. Her eagerness made Zeta wonder whether he should be encouraging or discouraging her enthusiasm. Then again, he wasn¡¯t sure if he was cut out for the job. His first mission may have gone well, but Zeta knew better than to expect the same degree of challenge from the rest of the world. He thought about Heidi. If she and dozens of others were to adopt the same path, then Zeta would need to blaze the trail. And he had no choice but to get it right the first time. Hodge woke up and so did his wife shortly after. Zeta had already cooked breakfast and cleaned the house to the point where they were too stunned to say anything. They had also probably forgotten he was there. He wouldn¡¯t blame them, his entire existence must have seemed like a dream. ¡°Zeta, I want to apologize,¡± Hodge said, ¡°but I¡¯m rescinding the offer of letting you stay a week, and I¡¯m letting you go early.¡± ¡°I understand. No harm done. It¡¯s your choice.¡± ¡°No, listen. Just as you said you wished you could stay here forever, we wish that as well. It¡¯s only been a day, but I can say for sure that the people of Greenwich and I trust you without fault. That¡¯s why you need to go. If your time is limited per person, then an old fool like me shouldn¡¯t keep you stuck here when there are others in dire need.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t call yourself a fool, master.¡± Hodge didn¡¯t listen. Instead, he went out back and came back a moment later with a dirty shovel and a chest from the back. He opened it. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you in full. This is everything I would have given to the Greenwich Group to pay the ransom.¡± Zeta stood still for a moment, then he reached into the chest and pulled out a single gold Nibble to put into his pocket. Then he stared at a perplexed Hodge for another minute. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± Hodge asked. Zeta shook his head. ¡°In terms of money, I only care about having enough to keep myself alive another day. The kindness you two showed me yesterday was enough payment. What kind of servant would I be to take his master¡¯s treasure and walk away without a second thought?¡± ¡°Please, I insist.¡± ¡°No.¡± Hodge started to grow angry. ¡°Zeta, as your master, I order you to accept this gift.¡± Zeta sighed at having his own policies used against him. ¡°Well, if you put it that way, I cannot refuse. However, master, before I do, let me advise you on my reasoning. ¡°You should keep a close lid on that money, as it means everything to your family. Even if another stranger came by and saved your wife and daughter ten times in a row, it doesn¡¯t mean you should give him your home as a reward. Anyone, and I mean anyone, no matter who they are at heart or who they claim to be, anyone who accepts a gift that takes everything from the giver is a bandit, nothing more. ¡°If you truly wish to reward me, please don¡¯t force me to be a bandit.¡± Hodge seemed swayed by Zeta¡¯s words, but even so, he shut the lid reluctantly and returned it to its secret spot outside. A moment later he came back in with an indifferent smile on his face. ¡°And as your master, Zeta, I ask you to reward me by letting me give you something, if not the money.¡± Zeta raised an eyebrow. Hodge put his hand to his chest and closed his eyes, visualizing something. ¡°Eject.¡± Out of his body, a crystalline diamond popped out. It was smooth and clear, with a black orb of light in its center. Zeta recognized it instantly. Before he left the Greenwich Group¡¯s plain, he picked one up lying next to the body of their leader, Rog. ¡°After last night¡¯s endeavor, I realized that my ambition for wealth was also attracting attention that we didn¡¯t need. Our future is worth nothing if Heidi or Morgan isn¡¯t there to see it. We¡¯d rather just stick to the simple life if it means we¡¯re safe,¡± Hodge said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he continued. ¡°It¡¯s all I have in terms of sigma. It¡¯s a Basic grade, and so someone like you has no need of it.¡± Zeta stared at the pyramid and compared it with the one in his pocket. Rog¡¯s sigma, Claws, had an orange orb because it was a Modification, but this new one had a black core. ¡°I can¡¯t believe this. I have two, not one, two sigmas! Haha!¡± His eyes glittered as if he were staring at bars of gold. Once again, Hodge, Morgan, and even Heidi were astounded by his sudden change in demeanor. Zeta ran up to all of them, shaking their hands with undefinable gratitude. ¡°The Sigma World is amazing, just as I imagined it would be! Now, what did you say this sigma was again?¡± ¡°Its Rapid Farmer,¡± said Hodge. ¡°It¡¯s a sigma that just allows any agricultural efforts you make to be done in a single swipe of the hand. As I said, it¡¯s really probably not to your liking.¡± ¡°Hey! One is better than zero, right!¡± Hodge was confused. ¡°Wait, one? You don¡¯t have any sigmas?¡± He turned to his daughter. ¡°Heidi, did he use any sigmas in his fight.¡± When she shook her head, Hodge¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°I accept your gift, master, mistress,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Greenwich Villa, at the top of the mountain, is my home, so by extension, I guess all of Greenwich is too! This is goodbye for now, but one day, I¡¯ll come home. I¡¯ll have many more sigmas then, I promise!¡± Hodge couldn¡¯t help but smile. No matter how crazy he might peg Zeta, seeing him depart was still strange. Morgan stood next to him, and she seemed to be afraid to shed tears. ¡°We wish you well,¡± she said. ¡°Goodbye!¡± Heidi yelled. Zeta grabbed his sword, Black Meridian, and left their home for the morning light. Spring had arrived the other day, but waking up to a fresh, cool breeze was still a novelty to experience. There was so much anguish and pain in the world delivered to humanity every single day, but there were some moments where it could all be masked by a healthy illusion. It awakened the soul¡¯s will to try and clean that filth. At the tavern, Jos gave him a map of Axle Island. He didn¡¯t plan to stay here long, as he wanted to reach the Selatin Kingdom as soon as possible. He pointed out a few towns to stop by along the way, but the port city of Aspic was what really caught his eye. He figured he¡¯d depart there. With the Nibble he took from Hodge, Jos helped him rent a horse and set off away from Greenwich. He glanced up at the mountain, where he could only see slivers of the Villa at its summit. Sir Kagan, you may be gone now, but I swear I¡¯ll carry your will and legacy across the world. I¡¯ll leave the proof in my deeds. On his way out, Naniana was waiting for him. She said nothing as they passed each other and waved to him. He was the last one to leave Greenwich Villa, and Zeta swore he could see tears welling in her eyes. Come on, world. I¡¯m ready for you.
Rapid Farmer - Agriculture: With a gesture of the hand, the growth rate of any crop is increased 100-fold. (20).
  • (A) Wave one''s arm above the designated crop as if sprinkling fertilizer.
  • While there are some differences in crop growth rate, they are minute. All crops take approximately a week to grow fully.
1-1 Its Not a Small World ZETA Zeta slouched his shoulders while he left the hamlet of Fer. It was the last settlement along the route to Aspic, and not a single call for work came his way since Greenwich. Axle Island was his home, even if he knew nothing about it. It was disappointing to offer so little help to its people, but, if that¡¯s what the people ruled, then so be it. Supposedly, Aspic was a sizeable port town, so staying there for an extended period was not sustainable. He knew next to nothing about big cities, and the prospect of walking their streets involved a slight terror. His heart yearned to set sail for where the focus of the world lay, the Selatin Kingdom. From Fer, Zeta had to make the last stretch to Aspic on foot as his horse had taken ill the night before. It wasn¡¯t enviable, but he had no complaints. At Fer¡¯s tavern, Zeta asked the locals about the characteristics of Aspic. In summation of their tales, they referred to it as a ¡°hub¡± of sigma activity. That fueled the energy he needed to make the journey. Everything would be worth if he saw more sigmas in action. He reached into the two pockets on his person. Other than Black Meridian at his belt, Zeta possessed nothing but the two sigmas he had gained after working for Hodge. He juggled them in his hands, ogling them with an odd hybrid of pride and greed in his eyes. Orange and white cores. The cores meant something about grades, but Zeta had forgotten exactly what. Sir Kagan told the villa kids everything they needed to know about sigmas like a little private school for superpowers, but Zeta¡¯s attention could never be held for more than five minutes. Initially, he was worried about those gaps in his knowledge, but to Zeta, it would make it an even more rewarding experience to learn about the Sigma World on his own. Taking the eyes off the sigmas in his hands, he looked up to see the spire of a cobble clocktower coming into view. He quickened his pace to visualize the concrete details, but then more structures started appearing, buildings breeding exponentially. They formed the great city of Aspic. To be fair, Aspic was just a town, and on a backwater like Axle Island no less, but Zeta spent two decades living in a complex of three buildings, thin atmosphere, and thirty kids. Aspic may as well be the center of the world. The city sat on a stub of a peninsula, walled off by wood and some stone on the side facing him from coast to coast, with little inlets to prevent intruders from slipping around the corners. It was cheap but effective. Besides, it provided a better scene of the city, which was what Zeta stared at without blinking until his feet dragged him closer. Then a couple stacks of muscle obscured the view. He looked up at the two brutes, who grinned and watched him maneuver the sigmas in his hands. Realizing the problem, Zeta pocketed them, although they formed a very unnatural bulge. ¡°Can I help you two?¡± Zeta asked. They didn¡¯t speak for a moment, but then the brute on the left opened his misshapen mouth. ¡°All immigrants go through an inspection before entering.¡± He spoke as if a rod had pierced his skull and brain. ¡°Immigrant?¡± Zeta watched people pass these two ¡®guards¡¯ without interference, entering the city with their seedy dispositions intact. He spotted people leaving in the same manner. ¡°So, how can I help you, officers?¡± Zeta said. ¡°You must be new here,¡± the other thug said. ¡°I¡¯m guessing You wouldn¡¯t want to make a bad impression in our proud city so early in your visit, right? We have laws here, and we like them upheld.¡± Zeta sighed with frustration and vowed not to let them ruin his excitement. ¡°Then, what do you need of me?¡± He smirked. ¡°As we said, an inspection. Given the nature of the danger they pose, unauthorized sigmas must be confiscated.¡± Now Zeta felt stupid as well for flaunting his prizes around freely. He whipped out Black Meridian and, in a flash, knocked both of them on the forehead with the pommel. Their confidence shattered. Zeta questioned why they would pick on someone with a sword visibly at their side. ¡°Oww! He¡¯s resisting!¡± ¡°Gentlemen, we both know you have no authority here. If you''re going to rob someone, at least come up with excuses that make sense. Don¡¯t tell me you confiscate sigmas in a place where I can see at least a dozen people using them in some form or fashion on the street. If you know what¡¯s best for you, please go home and never harass another passerby again.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Who do you think you are. You can¡¯t possibly command that!¡± Zeta glared at him with eyes of pure hostility, and the coward backed off. The physique did not match the behavior. The brute¡¯s friend grabbed him and told him to back off. ¡°Come on, Berto, he¡¯s not worth the trouble. Someone like him doesn¡¯t stand a chance in this city.¡± They both stood back while Zeta put his sword up and walked past. Thankfully, the ¡®interruption¡¯ at the gates did nothing to damper his amazement. Sure, Aspic didn¡¯t appear to be a sprawling metropolis like he had heard in the legends of cities, but the sheer number of buildings was of a magnitude to imitate them. Professionally constructed by excellent carpenters. The main street had plenty of stalls for all commodities from food to fashion. Wood and stone dominated the cityscape, bland to ordinary eyes, but butter to Zeta. A man walked past him with a flicker of flame at the tip of his finger. Another crossed the street blowing durable bubbles that rose into the sky, only to drop the ground from their weight and shatter like glass. The shards melted into water and evaporated into nonexistence. The few children around laughed at the spectacle. There were more, oh so many more. Most sigmas Zeta saw on the street were simple, akin to Rapid Farmer in his pocket with no practical purpose beyond civilian use. Zeta spotted a group of women heading his way. From the way they interacted, they were evidently friends, but they drew the attention of everyone who passed by for another reason. Their hair colors were some shade of blue or green, and their skins ranged from orange to purple. Not a single one of them had natural skin or hair. Even if Zeta didn¡¯t quite understand, their strange appearance could only be explained by one phenomenon. Watching them pass by only fueled his curiosity. Maybe he could wait on that boat ride to Selatin. Aspic was a marvel in and of itself. The incident at the entrance made Zeta feel a bit insecure about Black Meridian being visible. The thugs might have been afraid of it, but he knew that wouldn¡¯t be the constant case. He experienced one of the rare moments where he wished he accepted money from his clients ¨C currently one in total. It would pass, but Zeta wanted something to cover up his sword. Since he couldn¡¯t afford it, Zeta put himself on guard as he wandered the charming streets. After a while, he reached the end of the street, the docks. From what he had heard this morning, Aspic was a port established by some foreign power known as the Technocracy, but unless one looked at the docks, they would never make the connection otherwise. Only a select few buildings possessed any sense of ¡°modernism.¡± A warehouse, an embassy, customs, and contract offices. Mainly, everything their government ran had updated architecture that contrasted immensely with the cobblestone surroundings. Other than that, the Technocrats had loose ties to their homeland. The only ones wandering the street may as well have been citizens of Aspic given their attire and attitude. Hopping on one of their barges would be his next priority. He weighed his options. Should he try to board a ship legitimately, or might it be in his favor to¡­stow away? I mean, it was illegal. Would he be a hypocrite? No, compared to other ill acts of man it was harmless, he thought. But, I¡¯ll at least try to get a ticket. He remembered the way Hodge looked at him when he first arrived at the man¡¯s home. Pure horror. Zeta attributed that fear to Black Meridian, so concealing the sword could now be a legitimate problem. He planned to pretend to seek work as a crew member aboard a ship as a means to provide for himself as well as get off the island. Now the size of Aspic, however, became an intimidating prospect instead of an awesome wonder. He had no idea where to start. Maybe food? He thought as his stomach grumbled. As every village he stopped by since Greenwich, his food and water came solely from begging. He offered to work it off, but just like any of the other villagers he was denied. He stooped so low that he managed to win the pity, (or perhaps the disgust), of the keepers that they fed him a bare minimum before kicking him out. It wasn¡¯t an ideal life, but he did offer to work it off. Their loss. Thankfully, a great deal of Sir Kagan¡¯s training involved fasting, so his body performed well with minimal sustenance most of the time. Now, however, he wasn¡¯t doing so hot. The sick starvation dropped on him like a brick of pestilence. He stumbled over to a wall to support himself. Maybe I¡¯m getting too old to go hungry this long. He wondered if begging would work again. The nearest food stall was a few steps away. As Zeta gripped his stomach, the owner beckoned him with a smile of greed. ¡°Hi, can you open a tab, by any chance?¡± Zeta asked. Just as quickly as he was accepted, they turned him away. Several more stalls and even a few cheap restaurants lie in his path as Zeta grew more desperate for food. He received the same reactions and even a few insults. One man immediately resorted to violence, and Zeta had to waste energy to run away. After that, he switched to another street entirely. He dare not ask the taverns anymore. In the villages, it may have been fine, but he could only imagine what the hellscapes of this city¡¯s drinking holes looked like. A part of him grew anxious at the awful possibility that his adventure might end early. His panicked appearance crept to the surface as he went from shop to shop, searching like a scoundrel. When he started to notice places shutting down for the day, the thought of theft occurred to him. No! Absolutely not! But why not? He entertained the idea of stowing away moments earlier. Maybe that was also a result of declining mental health. No, he would keep searching. If he found no food today, he¡¯d wait out the night. If he survived, he¡¯d spend the next day hunting once more. Someone had to have work. If not that, then charity. Persistence was key. ¡°Steak¡­¡± he whispered to himself as he strolled down the next street. Unbeknownst to Zeta, a figure watched him from the alley. Seeing his predicament, she grinned, for she had found her next target.
Claws (Default Variant)- Physical, Nature: A modification that adds extended talons to the user¡¯s fingernails, making them extra sharp weapons. (120)
  • Can be retracted for more practical use
    • Hands will still be quite sharp, however.
  • This is the cheaper version of Claws. Not recommended for civilized individuals.
  • ¡°Scissorhands¡±
1-2 The Harpy of Aspic ZETA ¡°Please, just one meal! I promise, I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll scrub the floors for a week straight, dust the cabinets, shine your boots! Whatever you want! My word is goo¨C¡± The owner of Serb¡¯s Steakhouse, which was little more than a low-end diner, became the final person to slam his door in Zeta¡¯s face before Zeta gave up all hope on eating that night. Zeta slumped against a wall in dejection. He had forgotten that just because he loved humanity, it did not always love him in return. The masters were often quite cruel. But is it acceptable to reach a conclusion so early? Giving into despair would do no good, so Zeta rose and started moving. Getting the blood flowing was what he needed, although food sat on his consciousness like an overweight sofa hound. By chance, there could still be a late night store selling something edible. Aspic was a large town, so surely there would be some businesses open at night. An hour passed without any further interaction, mainly because Zeta¡¯s pace had significantly slowed down from the lack of energy. Now he needed sleep as well as nourishment. His body had decided to kill him with every tool in the books. If only he had a sigma that eliminated the body¡¯s physical needs. On the verge of passing out, he heard a whistle up ahead. Zeta looked up and saw a relatively large building with a wedge shoe for a sign. In the shoe¡¯s center was a bright red light; he thought he heard about that somewhere. Neon? A Technocrat innovation? Nevertheless, Zeta recognized the place as the notorious center of lust. The voice whistled again, and Zeta¡¯s eyes lowered. A figure sat on the brothel¡¯s porch, her eyes quietly capturing his attention. Slowly, with her fingers, she beckoned him closer. Damn it. The ploy was obvious, and Zeta felt weak. He didn¡¯t want to entertain the thought, but given that his stomach lay at the edge of collapse, he mustered the strength to get closer. Whoever this woman was, she oddly seemed out of place. She wore the typical prostitute¡¯s outfit, but many aspects of the dress were completely sealed off and far too bulky for her apparent height and weight as if she was concealing something beneath every fiber. Additionally, while she was by no means ugly, she was not doused with cosmetics as expected of the profession. Notably, her black hair, cropped short, had bangs that shrouded one eye. ¡°Lost, stranger?¡± she asked. ¡°In a way,¡± Zeta replied, taking a seat across the table she sat at. ¡°I¡¯m not familiar with this town.¡± ¡°I can tell. Anyone can from seeing the way you walk, but enough about that.¡± She leaned in closer. ¡°Why don¡¯t you come inside and take that stress off your mind?¡± Zeta wanted to laugh, but he feared that the contents of his stomach would come out at the first convulsion. ¡°No, thanks. Unless you provide a meal as one of your ¡®services.¡¯¡± ¡°Hungry?¡± ¡°Very much. The problem is¨Cand I¡¯ll just get this out the way¨CI don¡¯t have any money. So¡­unless you¡¯re a homeless shelter, I should get going.¡± He made a move to stand up, but the woman darted around to block his way. ¡°Dear, don¡¯t worry about something as silly as payment,¡± she said. She placed a hand on his chest and tipped him back into his seat. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be money. Don¡¯t you know how girls like shiny things?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t have anything of value, so¨C¡± ¡°Really? Nothing? Nothing at all?¡± She pulled her chair close to where her whole body was mere centimeters from his. ¡°Checked your pockets? Are they really empty?¡± Zeta wanted to say yes, but she was staring at his pants. The bulge of the sigmas in his pockets destroyed any denial. He pulled them out. ¡°I guess I have these.¡± They snagged her attention like a moth to a light, her eyes locked on tighter than a safe. ¡°Ooh, they''re pretty little prisms. They¡¯ll certainly do.¡± She reached out to take them. Zeta pulled back. ¡°I¡¯m not giving these up.¡± She pouted at him. ¡°Come on, dear, you said you¡¯re starving. They¡¯re just a couple of sigmas. What harm would it be to lose them?¡± ¡°They¡¯re literally all I¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°Read,¡± she said, her eyes staring him up and down with a faint grey glow. She stifled a laugh. ¡°Wow, you''re not kidding. A sigma score of 0? That means you¡¯ve got nothing, not even the standard set. No matter, if your stomach¡¯s empty then surely your willing to part if it means your survival.¡± ¡°The standard what now?¡± Zeta asked. She raised an eyebrow but kept up her act. ¡°You know, I hear one of the girls cooked a delightfully cruel bisque for the customers today. A special, I hear. With ingredients pulled fresh from the sea and garnish that nobles begged to eat twice.¡± Zeta¡¯s mouth watered as she went on, but he knew he must not sacrifice the sigmas. Whoever she was, she knew how to market.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°There might be some left. I¡¯ll go fetch it, for the price.¡± He pocketed the sigmas again. ¡°Listen, it¡¯s final, I¡¯m not selling them for food, stubborn as it may seem. I¡¯m not selling the sword either if that¡¯s your next angle. Does your establishment need any work, and if not, does it have the kindness required to maybe¡­make a contribution?¡± She sat back with a smile of disbelief. ¡°Honey. You know the world doesn¡¯t work that way.¡± ¡°Yes, I know.¡± Zeta stood to leave, tired of the game. ¡°Good day.¡± ¡°But,¡± she continued, ¡°even if the headmistress would never allow it, you were lucky to meet me as your¡­entertainer tonight. I happen to know a lot about Aspic. ¡°Oh?¡± Zeta said. ¡°There are quite a few people who can help folks like you out. Follow me.¡± She stood up and started walking away from the brothel. Zeta trailed like a dog growing rabid as prime meat dangled in front of his face. ¡°Steak¡­¡± he whispered, with an understanding that no charity in the world has the means to serve that. They entered a series of alleys that grew dark and windy, a telltale sign to turn around. It was evident that they were heading for locale long dilapidated and with fewer residents that the rest of Aspic. Zeta didn¡¯t care, a slim chance for food was better than none at all. ¡°Are we close?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, if you¡¯ll just give me a moment,¡± she said. She lifted her skirt like a discount princess and disappeared into a nearby building. Zeta that they were in some sort of abandoned plaza. His stomach grumbled for longer than usual like a frog¡¯s croak evolved into a roar, but then he realized that the leftover sounds were footsteps, not cries of hunger. At each end of the park, the only exits, two figures emerged. Zeta identified them as the thugs who hassled him earlier. ¡°Well, well, the stranger¡¯s looking weaker than before.¡± ¡°Yeah, maybe he should have learned that ya need to respect the law around here. Strays don¡¯t last long.¡± ¡°Really? You¡¯re still going on about the law?¡± Zeta said. ¡°What? Did you guys decide that you¡¯d like to get a full beatdown instead?¡± Unfortunately, he broke into a coughing fit at the end. ¡°Hey, Igel, you were spot on. He ain¡¯t just weak, he¡¯s practically swinging death around,¡± said the one called Berto. ¡°For the record, swordsman, that little knock on the noggin earlier today barely hurt at all,¡± Igel said. ¡°But it was damn annoying!¡± ¡°Yes. You see, we didn¡¯t want to make a fuss in front of the other ladies and gentlemen entering this fine city. Gotta keep up a decent daytime reputation. You never know who is apart of the crowd.¡± ¡°Yeah!¡± ¡°So, what is this, then? You still want my sigmas?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°Since your here, it means you¡¯ve still got them,¡± Igel said. ¡°We¡¯re nice enough to not even hold a grudge for your prior disrespect, so if you hand them over, we¡¯ll let you be about your business.¡± ¡°Really? What if I¡¯ve already consumed them, or even sold them.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, and we¡¯d be worried if you were smart,¡± Igel said. ¡°But the Harpy tracked you down ever since your pathetic ass entered this city. If you had a pair of lobes in your brain, you would have sold or used them, but you didn¡¯t.¡± Zeta smiled. ¡°Let me guess, the Harpy was the nice lady that led me here.¡± ¡°Spot on,¡± came a voice from behind him. Out of the building, the black-haired woman returned. The dress she had worn was discarded, revealing a street suit of boots, padding, and pouches galore. Any trace of the ¡°courtesan¡± was gone. ¡°Hera Verdure, the Harpy of Aspic, at your service.¡± ¡°Quite a title you¡¯ve got there.¡± ¡°Thank you. Compliments mean everything to me.¡± Zeta gestured to Igel and Berto. ¡°Are these your goons or something?¡± ¡°Hey! That¡¯s not nice. We¡¯re partners!¡± Berto said. Hera gestured. ¡°As he said. They help run our operation. Why don¡¯t you contribute to? You¡¯ve spent all day looking for work, after all.¡± ¡°Ironically, it comes to my doorstep.¡± ¡°Precisely. Doesn¡¯t the world always work out for everyone?¡± Zeta actually chuckled at that. ¡°So what exactly is your operation? I mean, these two have already informed me of my role in it. Might as well get the full picture.¡± She pouted again, replicating her earlier act. ¡°Are you sure you want to know? This business doesn¡¯t exactly reward the curious.¡± ¡°You already know I have nothing to lose.¡± ¡°What about your life?¡± ¡°So blunt. What if I refuse?¡± ¡°Hmm? I don¡¯t think I heard you correctly. That word isn¡¯t in our vocabulary.¡± Igel stepped closer. ¡°Stop playing around fool and give us the sigmas. Hera¡¯s good for her word and so are we. Give it to us without trouble, and you walk free.¡± Zeta stared him in the face with the same icy rage he used before. ¡°I don¡¯t have to take anything from thieves like you. Either prove your merit in strength or keep your mouth shut.¡± ¡°Damn. And I thought we were aggressive.¡± ¡°What? So you wanna fight?¡± Berto asked. ¡°Are you stupid? Its three on one!¡± ¡°Three fleas can¡¯t defeat a single spider.¡± ¡°Fleas? Where do you get off acting all high and mighty, swordsman?¡± Igel asked. ¡°For your information, our previous cowardice was an act. A-C-T.¡± Finally, Hera spoke up. ¡°We¡¯re all sigma users, and as Berto said, you¡¯re outnumbered. Make this easy, okay sweetheart?¡± The condescending undertone in every one of her words pricked Zeta¡¯s nerves. ¡°Whether or not you have sigmas doesn¡¯t matter to me. I snatched one of these off a fallen sigma user anyway. Besides, I¡¯ll be the strongest user one day, so no challenge is too great.¡± ¡°Dear, you have a sigma score of 0.¡± ¡°Wait, what?¡± Igel asked. Then he looked at Zeta and said: ¡°Read.¡± After a moment, he burst out laughing, which led to Berto following his lead. ¡°She isn¡¯t lying!¡± Igel said. ¡°You literally have nothing, and for a second there, I took you seriously.¡± ¡°So? You guys keep saying that. What the hell is a sigma score anyway?¡± Zeta asked. That caused another round of hysteria. Even Hera was stifling laughs of her own. ¡°Okay, this idiot has had enough chances to surrender. Can we get this over with?¡± Igel asked. ¡°Yea!¡± Hera spoke, ¡°Fine. Just be careful of the sword. Out of everything, I at least think he knows how to use that.¡±
Hair Aesthetic - Physical: Biologically alters the user''s hair to the sigma''s designated color. (10). *NotethatindividualsigmasinthiscollectionaremarkedHair Aesthetic:TealorHairAesthetic:Beige,etc.
  • A user can only have one Hair Aesthetic modification.
  • Modifies DNA.
  • If seeking a change, employing a new Hair Aesthetic will replace the old one. The older Hair Aesthetic is immediately ejected.
Skin Aesthetic - Physical: Biologically alters the user''s skin to match the designated color. (10). *NotethatindividualsigmasinthiscollectionaremarkedSkin Aesthetic:TealorSkin Aesthetic:Beige,etc.
  • A user can only have one Skin Aesthetic modification.
  • Modifies DNA.
  • If seeking a change, employing a new Skin Aesthetic will replace the old one. The older Skin Aesthetic is immediately ejected.
1-3 Bloody Taste ZETA Igel lunged at him first, a movement which Zeta spotted in his peripheral. Black Meridian was already drawn, and he moved to block, adopting a pose specifically to defend against Igel¡¯s arms and legs. But Igel used neither of them. He reared his head back, and Zeta caught himself, raising the flat of the blade. Igel¡¯s headbutt sent Zeta back a few feet like he had been hit with a ram instead of a cranium. ¡°What?¡± Zeta¡¯s hairs raised as he realized Berto was right behind him, arm raised. At the last second, Zeta rolled away, and Berto¡¯s overhead smash missed. Zeta jabbed Berto¡¯s thigh with the pommel, but Berto¡¯s skin cushioned the blow, and the man himself didn¡¯t flinch. Who are these monsters? Berto raised his hands, preparing to bring them down upon Zeta¡¯s skull. Igel to charge at him with a raised fist. Zeta swung his sword, and Igel pulled away to avoid a cut. When Berto returned for another downward smash, Zeta readied his sword for a thrust. In a panic, Berto tried to dodge, but the tip of the sword grazed his stomach first. Even as Berto passed by, however, the blade merely pushed his skin inward like a roll of fat, and by the time he was gone he had not a scratch to show for it. Berto seized on Zeta¡¯s momentum by grabbing him around the waist and hoisting him up. Zeta struggled, but suddenly Igel was pounding on his stomach with the impact of bricks. Zeta only managed to free himself at the moment he started coughing up blood. He had no energy in the first place, but with Igel¡¯s assault, Zeta¡¯s stomach cramped in grave pain. ¡°What the hell is going on!¡± he exclaimed. They didn¡¯t answer. Instead, the two rushed like bulls out of tricks but with horns to protect them from change. There has to be a weakness. Igel came in for another swing, and Zeta blocked it with the flat of the blade again. Zeta went for a strike of his own, but a picture of Sir Kagan flashed before his mind. It was vivid, detailed, painted out of his own memories. It came and went in an instant, just long enough for Zeta to recognize the man, and just long enough for Igel to tackle him to the ground. Before Igel could start pummeling him, Zeta attacked with great, immature fury and scrambled back to his feet. Igel staggered back in pain, examining the clean slash across all his knuckles. Zeta turned immediately on Berto and plunged his sword into Berto¡¯s arm. It pierced without error. No cushioning. Zeta wanted answers. Another flash went through his mind involuntarily, this time a clear picture of Greenwich Villa. A perfect three-dimensional replica. ¡°Are you confused, stranger?¡± he heard a voice say. Zeta turned to Hera, who had not moved a step since they started fighting. ¡°These visions, are they your doing?¡± She smirked, ¡°Perhaps. I have a Mind focus after all.¡± Zeta raised an eyebrow, and she started laughing. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t tell me. You don¡¯t know about focuses either?¡± ¡°Enlighten me,¡± Zeta said. ¡°I¡¯m the muscle duo over there have unnatural physiques because of sigmas.¡± ¡°Hey! Your build isn¡¯t so normal itself. Don¡¯t judge me,¡± said Berto. ¡°They¡¯re offense and defense focuses,¡± Hera said. ¡°It¡¯s nothing official, but it means they try to make use of sigmas of the same type. ¡°And what about you?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be in a rush to get your hands dirty.¡± Hera laughed. ¡°I don¡¯t need to any low grunt work like that, of course.¡± She gestured with her hand, flicking her wrist in his direction. Suddenly, another blast from the past slid through his vision. ¡°Not when your brain is my playground.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Zeta winced. He was in no mood for reminiscing, yet it was being forced upon him. Nearby, Berto and Igel were growing restless with conversation. ¡°Sir Kagan told me that no one man can have the strongest sword and shield. It doesn¡¯t matter if one has punches of steel and the other¡¯s skin is packed protection. Everything has a weakness. Believe me, I¡¯ll exploit it.¡± ¡°Are you sure about that?¡± Hera asked. ¡°Offense and defense focuses are common, but Berto and Igel are a particular case. ¡°Yeah. We don¡¯t have the full set!¡± Berto said. Hera sighed. ¡°Berto, don¡¯t put it that way. It makes you sound weak.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s true,¡± said Berto. ¡°It¡¯s psychology or somethin¡¯ like that. Makes us ¡®unpredictable.¡¯¡± ¡°If you call yourself unpredictable, it makes you predictable,¡± Zeta commented. ¡°Regardless, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed the difference, stranger,¡± Hera said. ¡°You mean how not every strike is brutal? Or how not every slab of flesh is softened? I¡¯m aware, very aware.¡± I appreciate you spilling your vulnerabilities. I¡¯ll consider it penance. ¡°It really doesn¡¯t matter what you know, however,¡± Hera began. ¡°It doesn¡¯t change fated outcomes.¡± Zeta glanced to Berto and Igel marching his way with greedy aggressiveness in their eyes. He noted Igel¡¯s scratch, a mere scratch, and suddenly the Greenwich Group felt like such a simple obstacle. ¡°Let me ask you this, then. Before I win, I want to know, what exactly is your trade?¡± ¡°Before you win? That¡¯s presumptive,¡± said Hera. ¡°And foolish,¡± added Igel. Zeta continued, ¡°To what degree are you all criminals?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see why that matters,¡± Hera said. ¡°I¡¯m just not sure if I should leave bodies in the alley or not,¡± Zeta said. Hera frowned for a moment, unamused. With another gesture, she sent a flash through his mind, and by the time he recovered Igel was in front of him. He shoved Zeta¨Cenhanced¨Cand sent him flying backward, crashing into the wall and leaving a crack as a souvenir. Damn it! Zeta hoped that a boastful display might diffuse into real physical capabilities, but his body was severely aching and still running on fumes from a lack of food. Plus, none of them seemed troubled by his remarks. Igel came in for another charge, but his relentless attacks had grown old. Zeta sidestepped at the last second and let Igel ram into a wall. When he gripped his skull in recovery, Zeta grabbed him, smashed him into the wall and elbowed him in the chest to knock the breath out of him. ¡°Igel!¡± Berto called, running closer. His stampede was easy to avoid as well, and Zeta slashed him across the back. Thankfully, that one left a mark. Hera flashed his mind again, showing a recent image of Hodge and his family. He wondered if she knew exactly what she displayed him when she did that. Zeta turned on her with rage still plastered as his expression. With her brutes out the way, Hera grew pale and visibly nervous. Finally, shaken confidence. He had no intention to harm her¨Che avoided it if he could, and this moment was opportune. Nevertheless, he adopted an intimidating posture as he strode closer. She backed away, sending more mind flashes his way, but with Zeta predicting them they had no effect. ¡°Are you done?¡± Zeta asked. Hera stood in a corner now, shaking and anxious. She nodded her head. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m done. Because we won.¡± She gently poked him in the shoulder. Black Meridian fell to the ground as Zeta reeled in agony. Her touch burst through his nervous system, a bullet in the shoulder with the absence of a gunshot. She poked him again, and again, and again. Every time it was brief, but each impact simulated a mortal wound. Each healed a second later as he received another one. He opened his eyes to face the pain, and Hera was grinning as she continued to lay down the inhuman sensations. From behind, the recovered Berto hugged his waist again, and Igel clutched his skull. Hera backed off, and the two of them piledrove him into the pavement with a massive thud. The sigmas rolled out of Zeta¡¯s pockets; the trio didn¡¯t hesitate to pick them up. ¡°That was more trouble than it was worth, but thanks for the fun tonight, stranger!¡± Hera said with cheer. ¡°Can we kill this one?¡± Igel asked. ¡°He didn¡¯t depart as easily as the others. He might come back.¡± ¡°Well, did you guys break his spirit?¡± she asked. Berto scratched his head, then he picked up Zeta¡¯s and smashed into the cobblestone a dozen times. Zeta thanked Sir Kagan¡¯s intense training for the reason he was still conscious. What I¡¯d give for steel bones right now¡­ ¡°That should do it,¡± said Igel. ¡°Then all that nonsense he said earlier isn¡¯t anything to worry about,¡± said Hera. ¡°Now he knows better than to stand above your station in Aspic, and the rest of the world for that matter.¡± ¡°So we were teachers then? Were we good?¡± Berto asked. Hera smiled. ¡°You were excellent.¡± With two fingers, Hera tore a little rift in the air, and she tossed the two sigmas inside and sealed it. ¡°I don¡¯t know why you didn¡¯t use your Pocket Inventory, stranger, it would have made these a whole lot harder to steal.¡± ¡°Maybe he didn¡¯t know how to use it? No, wait. I bet he doesn¡¯t have one,¡± Berto suggested. She laughed. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be surprised.¡± Zeta witnessed the rest of their jeering with one eye half-closed. As they started walking away from him, it unwillingly shut. His brain gave him no warning before he fell asleep.
Neural Flash - Mind: User pulls a vivid image from the target¡¯s past into the target¡¯s consciousness for a millisecond, causing some brief disorientation. (215).
  • (A) Press fingers to temple.
  • The image will obscure a target''s vision during its duration.
  • Neural Flash always pulls from both the hippocampus and the amygdala to create emotional discord. Has differing effects depending on the target.
1-4 Unpredictable is Predictable HERA ¡°This is far enough. No one¡¯s following, so take the usual route home. You two know what to do from there,¡± Hera said once they had successfully fled the scene. ¡°But Hera, what if that man comes back?¡± Berto asked. She laughed at the thought. ¡°He won''t come back, Berto. They never do. Not with the thrashing you guys inflicted.¡± ¡°To be fair, you did a lot of work too,¡± Igel said. Thanks for the credit. ¡°People are smart, they know when they¡¯re outmatched.¡± Igel didn¡¯t seem too relieved. ¡°Yeah, but is he outmatched? I mean, look at Berto¡¯s arm.¡± He pointed to the scratch on Berto¡¯s body. It was a thin sliver of a scar, yet it seemed to trouble Berto gravely. ¡°That¡¯s just the price we pay since Berto doesn¡¯t have the full Natural Padding set,¡± Hera said. ¡°Okay, this one might have been a little challenging, but so what? The stronger they are, the better the sigmas available to steal.¡± ¡°Did you look at them yet? What exactly did he have?¡± Igel asked. She opened her Pocket Inventory and pulled them out. When she Read them, her heart dropped. ¡°All that for Rapid Farmer and the awful variant of Claws?¡± she cursed. ¡°Are you kidding me! In the end, he screwed us!¡± Igel said. ¡°I change my mind, I¡¯m going back to kill him," she said. The trio refused to take lives, but tonight may be the exception. "Seriously, in regards to sigma, can he do anything right!¡± Berto stopped her in the midst of her accumulating rage. ¡°It¡¯s not worth it, Hera. At least none of us died.¡± ¡°I have sold these more times than I can remember,¡± Hera seethed. ¡°We need medical supplies for you two, not to mention other necessities and Lion¡¯s cut. No one on this planet would buy cheap sigmas from us with so many legal alternatives. In conclusion, we have a net loss from tonight. Great.¡± ¡°Ah, I don¡¯t know about that. There¡¯s gotta be somebody out there willing to buy.¡± ¡°I think the only fool in Aspic who might have recently experienced one of the worst nights in his life.¡± Igel glanced in the direction of their skirmish. ¡°He had a nice sword over there. Maybe we can take that as a tax. Expand our operation. Hera sighed. ¡°There¡¯s no point. He was resilient, that¡¯s for sure. If he hasn¡¯t already woken by now, I¡¯d rather not risk doing so if we return.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not afraid of him! Oww!¡± Berto said as a jolt of pain went through his arm. ¡°At least he can¡¯t track us. Let¡¯s hope to never see him again.¡± Hera smiled. ¡°That I can support. Although if I do see him, I might not be able to control myself. Hold me back so I don''t break our pact.¡± "Noted, ma''am." They parted ways with Berto and Igel taking the instructed paths home. Unfortunately, the thrill of the hunt had vanished for Hera, so she resumed a slow, steady pace to her shared abode. She couldn¡¯t fathom what a scam the night had been. In her mind, she could still envision that stranger¡¯s face, grinning as if he had the last laugh. How obnoxiously irritant. At the foot of her front step, she heard a breeze of movement rush behind her. Frantic, Hera turned around but saw nothing out of place. Nobody should be out at this hour. Her heart raced. It was moments like now when she wished her Mind sigma portfolio wasn¡¯t so weak. Neural Fighter was her limit. If it failed to take the stranger down¡­well, she was just glad it worked. Hera opened the door to her home and snuck up the steps. The ground floor, and technically the whole house, was roomed by an old woman Hera hardly interacted with most days, but Hera leased the upstairs. Their agreement was little more than a nod and a shared meal every once and a while, coupled with distasteful small talk. It was small, dank, and quiet, and perfect for sigma smuggling if your neighbors stayed quiet about it. Mrs. Olgue might have been sleeping, although Hera had not seen her in a few days. She must be an early riser now. Hera removed all the uncomfortable streetwear she donned from sunrise to sunset. She examined herself through the semi-cracked mirror and parted the locks of hair in front of her right eye. A second later and they shrouded her face again.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. She wanted to cut it, but last time she found it hard to stare at herself without a reminder of the servant girl in the Kapitaal. Seeing a healthy eye in place of the one that was bruised continuously should have been therapeutic, yet it did nothing but send her back to days of vulnerability. Every time she used Neural Flash on a target, Hera wondered what they saw in their memories. She shivered to imagine what would happen if someone used it on her. Once again, Hera pulled out the two sigmas, Rapid Farmer and Claws, and analyzed them. Modifications were growing in popularity, and there was always the occasional civilian who wandered into the black market for a lower price than what legitimate vendors offered. Selling them had little value for a distributor of her stature, but nostalgia loved to linger. The machine of her mind and body entered full alert when she heard the door open downstairs. Mrs. Olgue never stayed out¨Cor even stayed awake¨Cthis late. Whoever opened it did so with immense force. They started rummaging downstairs and made no effort to be discrete. Hera smirked. Whoever this robber was, they were an amateur who picked the worst target and time to strike. She curled her fingers, feeling the sigma¡¯s power run through her nerves. Time to deliver punishment. Hera crept to the edge of the stairwell and slowly descended. From the angles she possessed, she could not see the intruder. As she prepared to take another step, she spotted an oddity at the foot of the stairs. A familiar sheathed sword sat against the front door. Wait. No¡­ No, it couldn¡¯t be. He had¨C Hera rushed down the stairs and glanced at the far end, where the kitchen was located. A black-haired figure was breaking into their stock of food. ¡°You seriously followed me for a second bout?¡± she said aloud. The tired, weary figure turned his head. Blood dripped from the stranger¡¯s face, Berto¡¯s souvenir, contorting him into a horrid monster of a man. In his mouth was half of an apple, and both hands held other assortments of food. ¡°How disgusting. Breaking and entering my home to seek your revenge.¡± Technically it was rented, but that didn¡¯t matter at the moment. The stranger slowly took the apple out of his mouth and growled like a feral beast. Then he resumed eating it. ¡°You''re even dumber than I imagined,¡± Hera said. ¡°Not only did you seek a rematch, but all for worthless sigmas as well. You cannot comprehend how pissed I am about that, by the way.¡± He ignored her, chomping at the apple. She remembered that he was starving when he met her, but this was still beyond rude. She put her fingers to her temple and hit him with Neural Flash. He flinched, turned and swallowed his next bite. Whoever he was, his eyes were red with rabid lunacy, and Hera might have been scared if the rest of his body didn¡¯t look like walking roadkill. His sword was next to her, so his one and only skill set remained out of reach. Good for my case. Nevertheless, the stranger approached without hesitation. She raised her arms, ready to take him down again. ¡°Want some more bullet holes in your chest? How about some stab wounds? I can make you feel anything.¡± His step did not falter. ¡°Seriously? Are you some kind of masochist?¡± Not an error. ¡°There¡¯s a world of hurt that awaits you. Don¡¯t you remember my sigma?¡± The stranger had evidently lost his mind; that was the only explanation for his behavior. When he was in range, Hera struck. ¡°Fine, here¡¯s a memory jogger!¡± She poked him, and he stopped walking, but his expression of contempt didn¡¯t change, and his body didn¡¯t react. Hera¡¯s eyes widened. Wasn¡¯t he hurt? She poked him again, and again, and again. Repeatedly. Then she started slapping and smacking and punching and kicking until her fighting style appeared like little more than a grown woman¡¯s tantrum. He reacted to none of it. What the hell! ¡°Neural Fighter!¡± she screamed. The sigma was supposed to be Dormant, but maybe it had somehow been deactivated? Before she threw another punch, he spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your sigma is working just fine. I feel each and every single one of your blows as intended.¡± Unbelievable! If that was true, then why had he not crumpled in pain? Who is this monster? He¡¯s inhuman. She backed off and considered running away, but somehow he had managed to find where she lived. A part of her dreaded that there might be nowhere to escape to ¡°What the hell are you!¡± she demanded to know. He looked at her with a blank expression and a raised eyebrow, as if the question itself was flawed. ¡°I¡¯m human, just like you.¡± ¡°What? No, that not possible. Neural Fighter never fails! Everyone hurts. Everyone!¡± ¡°True, but that¡¯s the problem with fighting the nervous system. What was once a weakness will evolve into a strength. Humans are wonderful creatures with the great gift of adaptation.¡± Hera couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. ¡°You¡­you adapted to Neural Fighter?¡± ¡°You did strike me quite a bit. It¡¯s the same with your mind flashes. When I see them coming, they can¡¯t distract me. The unpredictable becomes predictable. Granted, they are forever difficult to avoid.¡± Perhaps he was tricking her with talk, so Hera tried to jab him again. To her dismay, the stranger swatted her hand away. He continued speaking as if she had done nothing. ¡°I admit that when I had no clue what your sigmas were, you had the advantage. I¡¯m sorry to inform you that¡¯s gone now.¡± What in the world am I supposed to do? ¡°You asked your partner if my spirit was broken, and for a very brief moment during my nap, I thought it was. Then I understood that your crew was merely enjoying a dream, the illusion of having power over others. In reality, you aren¡¯t that strong, are you?¡± ¡°What then! What are you going to do?¡± Hera burst out. ¡°If you¡¯re going to kill me, just do it! This conversation is cruel.¡± ¡°Kill you? No, I have something else planned.¡± Hera¡¯s heart rate spiked as the stranger leaned in closer. ¡°Do you have any spices? I saw a preserved steak just waiting to be eaten, and as you might know, I am very, very hungry.¡±
Neural Fighter - Dormant, Mind, Offense: Intentional physical attacks from the user will briefly imitate a much more serious injury such as a gunshot or a stab wound. (985).
  • (A) During registered physical assaults. Force of will.
  • User has a small degree of choice over what exactly a target feels.
  • The upgraded hits do not linger long. Opponents of tougher skin are less likely to be affected.
1-5 Strings on a Harpy HERA ¡°I¡¯m telling you, this tastes so damn good after a starving for a day!¡± The stranger exclaimed as he took another bite of the bloody meat. In desperation, he hardly let the steak sit above the fire before he dove into it. Maybe Hera would get lucky, and he would die of food poisoning. No, his body was inhuman, he would adapt. Another hope doused in ice water. Hera sat as far away from him at the table as she could manage, wordless and practically catatonic. The stranger sent many mixed signals, spouted gibberish she didn¡¯t quite understand and flipped moods faster than the spin of a bronze Nibble. If she survived tonight, the first thing she planned to do was investigate if a mental asylum was missing inmates. He kept trying to talk to her, but Hera adamantly refused to respond. Whatever he asked, his attention immediately returned to his food after a second or two of silence. After he finished consuming every last morsel of meat, the stranger¡¯s attitude calmed, regulating him to a reasonable pace. ¡°Oh, I haven¡¯t introduced myself yet, have I? My name is Zeta,¡± he said before bowing his head. ¡°Thank you for your kind hospitality with this meal.¡± Hera looked up at him, perplexed in a dozen ways. Was she a hostage, or not? Never before had she felt so tied up. For years she had considered herself the spider that caught flies, but now her role had been reversed. She prayed that this was nothing more than a nightmare. ¡°You just walked in and ate. I haven¡¯t been kind to you at all,¡± Hera whispered softly. ¡°Maybe, but you let me stay. You didn¡¯t kick me out. I¡¯ll take that gratitude over nothing.¡± She smashed her hands against the table with enough force to split part of the wood. ¡°What is this! What are you playing at! If this is a game, I want no part in it!¡± Zeta shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s no game. I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°Then leave! Prove it! You have no business here!¡± ¡°That I cannot do,¡± he said as he yawned. ¡°I¡¯ve come about with a sudden case of sleepiness. Is there somewhere I can rest my eyes until morning?¡± He had a cheeky grin as he spoke, taking Hera aback. Was he joking? Was this the world¡¯s worst prank? ¡°Are you seriously asking to sleep here?¡± ¡°If you can accommodate me.¡± ¡°Get out!¡± Zeta glanced around the house. ¡°Are you sure? This place looks a little big for one person. Surely there¡¯s gotta be someplace I can rest.¡± ¡°No, there isn¡¯t. Leave!¡± Zeta sighed. ¡°That¡¯s a shame then.¡± He made no effort to move, however, and Hera stood there and tried to intimidate him into doing so. To her dismay, he was completely immune to every psychological trick in her book. She sat down with mental agony towards his persistence. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you killed me?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± He seemed confused. ¡°That¡¯s blunt. I thought I told you, I¡¯m not going to kill you. I mean, I might if you told me you were a slave trader or a serial killer or some other irredeemable monster in the form of man. Are you?¡± The casual method in which he spoke of death chilled Hera from head to toe. ¡°No. Is that why you asked our trade earlier?¡± He nodded. ¡°You never answered me. What about now? What exactly is it that you do?¡± Hera sighed. There was no point in hiding it while she could still see the glimmer of his black sword. ¡°My partners and I smuggle and sell sigmas through the underworld.¡± Zeta beamed with glee. ¡°Wait, really? That¡¯s amazing! Why is that a crime?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°It¡¯s¡­not. Well, mostly. In our trade, we don¡¯t limit ourselves to Basic and Standard sigmas like we''re supposed to for civilian markets. Also, our acquisition of supply is¡­questionable." Zeta frowned. ¡°You threatened to kill me earlier. Tell me, is that your method? Back alley murder?¡± He gripped the hilt of his sword. ¡°Wait! Wait!¡± Hera panicked. ¡°No, no, no, no, no. It¡¯s always a threat and nothing more! Most people hand them over without resistance. There is no unnecessary violence. We have never killed! I swear!¡± He touched his chest, where one of Igel¡¯s blows left a bruise. ¡°No unnecessary violence?¡± Hera clenched her teeth with anxiety. ¡°What can we say? I guess you were tough. Take it as a compliment?¡± Please. Zeta narrowed his eyes, but then snapped back to that stupid grin of his. ¡°Okay. I believe you.¡± That easily? At least it was true. Now that Hera knew that he wasn¡¯t going to kill her, she focused her attention on being rid of his irritating presence. ¡°Enough about me. You¡¯re in my house, and if there were authorities in Aspic, I¡¯d have you banished from the island! Believe me, embellishing charges is an easy feat these days!¡± ¡°As far as I¡¯ve seen, there aren¡¯t any authorities.¡± ¡°Just be a decent human being and go away!¡± ¡°No can do. Since you never took a life amidst your career¨Cat least, none with malevolent intent, anyway¨Cyou don¡¯t deserve a harsh punishment like death. But you have been robbing innocent people. So you do need some discipline.¡± Hera gulped. ¡°And¡­and what do you have in mind?¡± He paused, and a weight befell upon Hera¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I¡­have absolutely no idea.¡± Her eye twitched with animosity. With every other sentence out of this idiot¡¯s mouth, he shattered his illusion of terror. The chaotic flux of emotions grew weary. ¡°Oh, I know. You¡¯ll have to answer my questions!¡± Zeta concluded. ¡°What? That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°All of them.¡± His smile was that of a fox. The malice spewed into the air. Hera sat down, ready to face her interrogation. ¡°Fine, then. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± ¡°Wonderful,¡± he said. ¡°First, how has your day been?¡± ¡°Okay, no¨C¡± Zeta waved his finger. ¡°ANY question.¡± ¡°I had a nice day until you came along! Next!¡± ¡°Is there someplace I can sleep?¡± ¡°I told you, no.¡± Hera was seething, grating her teeth. ¡°Yes, but you were lying,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not good at lying.¡± Hera swore steam blew out of her ears. When she restrained herself, she said, ¡°There is a lady who lives down here. I thought she was asleep, but considering she didn¡¯t swat you with a broom during the ruckus you made, I¡¯m assuming she isn¡¯t here.¡± Zeta beamed. ¡°That means there¡¯s an open room, right? I mean, it¡¯s almost midnight, if she isn¡¯t home now she¡¯s probably elsewhere for the night. Free room!¡± ¡°Hold on¨C¡± ¡°Okay. That¡¯s all for now. I¡¯m checking out. Good night.¡± Now it was Hera¡¯s turn to shine. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re done! Those are all your questions? You¡¯ll be gone in the morning?¡± ¡°Hold it, Hera. You¡¯re not off the hook yet. I said for now. Your punishment ends when I¡¯m out of questions completely.¡± Hera felt her reality come crashing down. Just how long was he sticking around? Nightmares were supposed to be a one-night affair. ¡°Oh, and you need to be ready to answer them whenever I ask, so you can just sleep elsewhere in my room or something. I¡¯m sure the lady has a spare blanket.¡± ¡°Absolutely not!¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± he shrugged. ¡°Just don¡¯t be mad when I jostle you awake asking where you toss your squalor when the pot is full." ¡°You should know, Berto and Igel will be here in the morning. When they learn you broke in, you¡¯re done for! They might be injured, but so are you!¡± Zeta shrugged again. ¡°We¡¯ll see about that, but if you¡¯re insistent on killing me, you can do it yourself while I sleep. I¡¯m in no mood to tear apart your home, and I don¡¯t think you want that either. ¡°We¡¯re not enemies, Hera. I¡¯ve forgiven you and your partners from earlier. I see your weakness now and realize you carry it everywhere you go. I can see the strings attached to you, controlling every motion you make and every word you say, and you¡¯re in denial that they exist. All I¡¯m doing is appending a string of my own, but I want to ensure you can cut it at any time you want. ¡°Although, I recommend leaving it for a day. In the end, if you still insist. Cut the string, and I will disappear from your life forever.¡± Zeta sought the spare room he claimed. Hera remained seated at the kitchen table, trembling as if afflicted with a disease. When she found the confidence, she mustered her motors to carry her upstairs to her room. Hera laid on the bed and pulled the covers over herself. They did nothing to block out the cold. There was a single window upstairs, right beside her bed, that had a decent view of Aspic and one of the world¡¯s moons. Usually, Berto and Igel entered through there, but for some odd reason, she didn¡¯t want them to come anywhere near that window, or her person, for that matter. She stared into the night until the sun rose. Not once did she receive any sleep.
Natural Padding - Dormant,Defense, Physical: The named body parts absorbs more physical shock without assistance or alternative form of protection. (100). *Notethatthisisnotasinglesigma,butacollectionofsimilarpowers applyingtovariousbodyparts.
  • (A) When the designated skin is struck with a significant force.
  • Skin behaves as if ''cushioned.''
  • (!) This does not protect the user from piercing attacks such as sword thrusts or bullets. Many blows can also overwhelm Natural Padding. Not to be solely relied on.
  • There are 10 sigmas in this collection, named ''Padded _______.'' Face, Skull, Torso, Back, Thighs, Knees, Feet, Shoulders, Forearms, and Hands.
1-6 Criminal Instruction ZETA Hera¡¯s partners created a loud ruckus as they roamed about upstairs. The six pairs of feet stampeding around that small area was enough to drive Zeta insane without even mentioning the distant murmur of voices, each whisper injected with paranoia. Zeta assumed Hera informed them of his presence when they charged downstairs, but to his confusion, they bolted out the door instead. Seconds later, Hera followed. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell them about me?¡± Zeta called when he heard her outside his room. ¡°I told them you broke in, tormented me for a while and then ran off¨C¡± she peeked in, only to witness Zeta still putting on his pants. ¡°Oh, come on!¡± ¡°What? So I left the door open? It¡¯s a habit.¡± She quarantined herself from the room until Zeta was done, then she entered again, clearly disgusted. ¡°I hope that wasn¡¯t excessively traumatizing,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Ugh.¡± She noticed the made bed. ¡°Did you not sleep last night?¡± ¡°I¡¯m offended. Are you assuming I woke up and left it unsightly?¡± ¡°Yes. You¡¯re a slob.¡± Zeta laughed. ¡°I took a power nap for five minutes, then I spent the rest of the night concealing my wounds. Your neighbor has an extensive makeup collection.¡± ¡°So you only slept for five minutes?¡± she asked, bewildered. ¡°Yep, that¡¯s all I need!¡± Zeta spotted rings around Hera¡¯s eyes. ¡°What about you? You don¡¯t look healthy right now.¡± ¡°I wonder why¡­¡± ¡°Oh, come on. I¡¯m not a plague.¡± She feigned a smile. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure about that.¡± Hera left the room, and Zeta finished getting ready for the day. He checked himself out in the mirror one last time, ensuring no wounds were visible. He was about to exit the house when he noticed Hera sitting alone at the kitchen table, impatient and half-asleep. She grimaced when she saw him. ¡°You have more questions, right? Let¡¯s get them over with.¡± Zeta gestured to the door. ¡°Sure, I think Aspic is looking beautiful this morning. Let¡¯s take a walk.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll answer them here. Now.¡± ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll ask one. Your partners, Berto and Igel, their sigmas were simple but inconsistent, what were they?¡± She narrowed her eyes. It was apparent she didn¡¯t just want to spill that information, but Zeta left her with no choice. ¡°If you must know, Berto uses sigmas from the Natural Padding set, and Igel has certain enhanced physical attacks,¡± she said. ¡°Those sigma sets are widespread, but Berto and Igel don¡¯t have the full sets. You already saw why.¡± ¡°Okay, but which sigma do they have exactly? I want a list.¡± She scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t know that. I trust them with their own sigmas and to come through when I need them to. Igel has an Enhanced Headbutt, I think, and I know Berto at least has Padded Thighs and a Padded Torso.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°But not Padded Arms, that¡¯s why I cut him there easily. I get it,¡± Zeta said. ¡°What about you? Any other sigmas that I haven¡¯t seen?¡± Hera paused, then she smiled wryly. ¡°Oh? You want to see what else I have?¡± Zeta nodded, and she started laughing. ¡°Fine then. I might be a Mind focus, but the mind has many practical avenues, and one of those is fear.¡± Hera stared at him with absolute malice. ¡°Appendophobia.¡± She extended her arm, which elongated and thinned, blackened to a nighttime void and grew an excessive amount of hair. A feeler. When Hera noticed what her arm was turning into, she screamed at the top of her lungs and reversed the process, leaving her in a cold sweat. ¡°Umm. Are you okay?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°You¨CI hate you! You¡¯re an arachnophobe!¡± Zeta was taken aback. ¡°How in the world do you know that? How much did you learn from stalking me?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t, moron! That sigma turns one of my limbs into that of a creature in which my target greatly fears. You¡¯re scared of spiders!¡± ¡°Yes, I am,¡± Zeta said, ¡°and why did you scream?¡± Hera¡¯s face went red, and she shied away. ¡°Good to know we have something in common,¡± Zeta laughed. ¡°Seriously, everything about you is a virus,¡± she said. ¡°Ouch. That¡¯s cruel. Now come on, I want to see more of Aspic. Care to be a guide?¡± She shook with undiluted rage but gave in and followed him outside. Zeta was pleased to see the hustle and bustle of Aspic once more and with a full stomach this time. ¡°Where do you want to go?¡± Hera grumbled as she shut the door. ¡°Well, I don¡¯t quite know,¡± Zeta said. ¡°You¡¯re the resident here, so you¡¯d know all the points of interest. Oh, I know, take me to where all the sigmas are!¡± They looked around. Basic sigmas were being used up and down the street like a carnival of them had hit the town. ¡°We¡¯re here. Enjoy,¡± Hera said dryly, heading back inside. Zeta grabbed her shoulder. ¡°No, no, no. Let¡¯s not be rude. Okay, so I worded the question wrong. You say I know nothing about the Sigma World, so enlighten me.¡± Hera furrowed her brow. ¡°What? For your level of knowledge, you need professional help. Do I look like a schoolteacher to you?¡± ¡°You are for today. Do you want a title to incentivize you? What¡¯s your last name again? Verdure? How about Ms. Verdure? Mrs.? Are you married by any chance?¡± ¡°Just shut up and listen, then. Good God, I don¡¯t even know where to start. So much of this is common knowledge that teaching it is impossible.¡± ¡°Then I suppose I¡¯ll jump start it with a question. You mentioned sigma sets back there. What are those?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t that information be inferred?¡± she asked with venom. ¡°Never mind. A sigma set is a collection of sigmas with a near identical effect and one particular difference other than score. Take Berto. Naturally Padded Thighs and Naturally Padded Torso are a part of the same set because they do the same thing, but for different body parts.¡± ¡°You keep talking about a score. What is that?¡± She twitched. Each question seemed to leave Hera more dumbfounded than the last. ¡°Even if I gave you the full explanation, would you remember it? Why should I tell you if it will slip out of your head by tomorrow?¡± ¡°Sir Kagan always told me to never hesitate when asking a question, no matter how stupid it may seem,¡± said Zeta. ¡°Do you want me to like you? How about we make this a fair trade, then? Why don¡¯t you tell me more about you? Who is Sir Kagan?¡± ¡°The greatest man to ever walk on this world¡¯s soil.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not an answer!¡± ¡°But it¡¯s my answer.¡± ¡°Then here¡¯s my answer, idiot. A sigma score is a number between one and infinity that measures how strong a person is. You have a sigma score of 0, which means that ants that pass by on the ground are strong enough to kill you!¡± Zeta looked down. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Agh!¡± ¡°Hey, hey, calm down. It was only a question,¡± Zeta said with a devilish grin. Hera¡¯s face darkened, and all of a sudden Zeta felt a terrible chill travel down his spine. It made his body quiver and his face sweat cold, and he wondered what Hera was doing to make this terror so real. But she adopted a similar expression of fright. A man covered in a brown cloak from head to toe passed them, and the feeling disappeared outside of his proximity as if the icy hands of death were released around their throats. ¡°That¡­that¨CHera can you explain that?¡± She analyzed the figure as he passed down the rest of the street. Anyone he came near shivered with pale horror, clearing his way. They calmed down with heavy sighs of relief as he moved on. ¡°That sigma is called Chilling Presence. It¡¯s an Elementary grade fear sigma.¡± ¡°A fear sigma? Like the same type you have?¡± She nodded. ¡°People with that power typically have a focus in fear. Stay away from Fear focuses. They are evil and dangerous.¡± ¡°Advice accepted.¡± He reclaimed his excited self. ¡°So¡­you called it ¡®Elementary grade.¡¯ New question. What are grades? HERA Hera spent the next hour toiling through a grueling, miserable explanation of every bit of sigma knowledge she could mine from the depths of her memory. She went through grades, scores, types, the effects of Dormant sigma. She also learned, to her dismay, that Zeta possessed no base of knowledge for her to expand upon, so she could not afford to skip on a single detail. ¡°There, that¡¯s it. That¡¯s everything you need to know. Is there anything else?¡± He wandered off. ¡°No, if that¡¯s all you have for me, then that¡¯s all I need. Granted, if I have more questions, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be happy to oblige future visits.¡± ¡°You mean I¡¯m still not off the hook!¡± ¡°Not completely. If I need some additional clarification in the future, I expect you to indulge me, that¡¯s all. However, you don¡¯t have to follow me around anymore.¡± He¡¯s letting me go! She could cheer, she could pray in Valeri¡¯s name. She could bless fate and destiny, the heavens or hell, yet she had no clue whether to look up or down. But there was something. A part of Hera simmered with unsatisfaction even with her respite. She had no idea where the impulse came from. Before her brain dug her out of the ditch, her mouth ran off and buried it with cement. ¡°No. We¡¯re not done. We¡¯re far from done. After this torture, I refuse to let you walk away for free. You have no money, and you have no sigmas, but I want something, anything, and I will not let you refuse. You¡¯re going to tell me all about you.¡±
Chilling Presence - Fear, Dormant: Forcefully sends shivers down the spines of all those who come within the user''s presence. (300)
  • (A) Force of will.
  • Affects those within a 10 m radius.
  • Chills are sustained as long as targets are within the radius. As soon as they exit the radius, the effect is drastically eliminated.
  • Is meant solely to be an intimidation factor, the user should wary of social consequences
1-6.2 (F) Sigma Exposition HERA "Alright, fine, I''ll teach you about sigmas in the same order I learned about them in school," Hera said. "How long ago was that." "Shut up, I''m not that old. We''ll start with the three basic concepts for any sigma. "All sigmas have what''s known as a sigma grade. These are denoted by the color of the light core that makes the sigma''s crystal skeleton truly vibrant. The Grades, in order from least to most powerful, are Standard, Basic, Elementary, Decent, Grand, and Magnum, with their respective colors being: Gray, Black, Green, Blue, Magenta, and Gold. Got that?" "I think so, although that''s a lot of memorization," Zeta said. "Maybe for a simpleton like yourself." "Back in Greenwich, I picked up an orange cored sigma. What''s that about?" "There is one other special sigma grade, Modifications. Modifications aren''t grouped with the other grades due to there permanent nature. The sigma embeds and alters the user''s body, and thus the sigma cannot be released by any means unless the user dies. The upside is that the sigma does not have a Divinity requirement and can be used instantly." "Divinity?" "Oh, lord...All in due time, okay?" Hera continued. "The second element all sigmas possess is a sigma score. This is a numeric value that represents an idea behind the strength of a specific sigma. Everyone in the world also has a sigma score, even if it''s a flat zero, like yours. When a user employs sigma, the value of the sigma''s score is added to the user''s, making user scores a cumulative value of all they sigmas they have employed."This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "What''s your score?" Zeta asked. She smiled wickedly. "I''m not telling, and no amount of pressure can force me to do so. If you care, figure it out yourself." "From what I gather, a sigma score sounds like a power level. Who has the highest." Hera shrugged. "I''m not sure. I have a few ideas of who might have it, but they can range from anywhere between a million and a billion for all I know. Sigma scores are connected to grades in one way. For each grade above Standard, an extra digit is added to the range. Standard sigma range from 1-9, for example, while Basics run from 10-99, Elementary from 100-999, and so on. As you can tell, especially with higher grade sigma users, those numbers can get really large really quickly." "Scores are an objective measurement, then. One person can receive several thousand points from a single sigma, but he or she may still be incredibly weak," Zeta pointed out. "You''re correct. Never underestimate an opponent." She whispered beneath her breath. "Like I did with you. That being said, it''s common sense to not challenge someone with a several league''s larger score than yours. While not a perfect measurement, scores are an accurate indicator of strength." She continued. "The final element to any sigma is its Type, or Types if there are multiple. Types are declared on a sigma''s display, although they serve little purpose other than to classify the realm in which a sigma power resides. We are the ones who developed the concept of a focus, which means mostly employing sigmas of the same Type as often as possible. Take me for example. I''m a Mind focus. Although I only have two Mind sigmas, I have a fear type sigma as well. You aren''t limited to a type, although it''s practical since sigmas of the same type boost the rate of Divinity accumulation for each other." "Huh." "That''s all you can say? I swear if you ask me about this again..." "Don''t worry. Continue." "Ugh. Lastly, there is a specific type that does serve a purpose. Dormant. It''s not really a type per se, but a classification of the way a sigma activates. Most sigmas require a vocal command of their name, as well as a gesture, in order to activate. However, Dormant sigmas require neither, as the nature of their use requires the user to be in a situation where such commands are impractical. Take Neural Fighter for instance. It''s Dormant, so I don''t have to scream ''Neural Fighter'' every time I want to use it with a hit. I just hit, and with force of will, it works." "So, if I were dying, a sigma that keeps me alive would have to be Dormant?" She praised the sky. "Yes! You got something on the first try!" "Really?" "Shut it. I''m still talking." Hera calmed herself. "That''s all the average person knows about sigmas. There function is easy to understand. It''s their origins that are an absolute mystery. It baffles historians to this day." "I see..."
Appendophobia - Fear: User can transform any single section of their body, usually a limb, into a related section of a creature or object the target fears deeply. (676)
  • (A) Simply outstretch the limb the user wishes to transform and wait.
  • Has varied effects depending on the limb and the creature. Ex: Transformations of the head are much more terrifying than those of the arms or legs.
  • Should not intentionally provide adverse effects to the user, however, this is not a guarantee.
  • (!) May not work on a target if they do not have a tangible phobia.
1-7 The Indentured Student ZETA ¡°Me? Why would you want to know about me?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°Because you¡¯ve spent the last twelve hours assaulting me with questions and prying into my life!¡± ¡°Yes, because that was your punishment, and now its no longer valid¡± Zeta smirked. ¡°But are you saying you want more?¡± ¡°Who is Sir Kagan? Give me a real answer this time!¡± From Hera¡¯s countenance, Zeta knew she had no intentions of letting this go. They both knew he had no reason to oblige, but for the life of him, he had no clue what sparked her curiosity. ¡°Very well. Is there somewhere we can sit?¡± The closest tavern inn had little appeal compared to its competitors, but it was the only one with outdoor seating and a decent bit of privacy aside from the street. Zeta thought indoor seating would be better, but Hera was insistent. I imagine she doesn¡¯t want to be away from the public eye. Zeta categorized the parts of his life he was willing to mention before speaking. ¡°I come from Greenwich. Do you know where that is?¡± ¡°Greenwich? Like the mountain a little ways south?¡± ¡°Precisely. Anyway, Sir Kagan built a huge complex up there. The place is massive!¡± It was only two buildings, but playful embellishment never hurt anyone. ¡°That¡¯s where I grew up. Sir Kagan trained me in the art of the sword, in sigmas, in how to ri¨C¡± ¡°Wait, sigmas? So you¡¯ve already known everything I just told you?¡± ¡°No. You see, Sir Kagan ¡®taught¡¯ me, but uh¡­I didn¡¯t necessarily have the best attention span.¡± ¡°So you mean to tell me that you had every opportunity to learn about sigmas, but because your deprived, hyperactive brain decided not to give him a lick of focus, you know nothing?¡± ¡°Um, yes.¡± Hera stood up and slapped him, which dragged the attention of nearby pedestrians, causing her to sit back down and pretend it never happened. ¡°That was uncalled for,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Continue. I want another reason to slap you.¡± ¡°Heh, you won¡¯t get a second chance. Anyway, Sir Kagan taught ¨Cor at least tried to teach¨C me and a handful of other orphans about the Sigma World. For the most part, he was successful, I¡¯m the exception. However, even if I gave him my eyes and ears literally during my stay up there, Sir Kagan never let us actually practice with sigma.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°He said there is no sigma user in this world who should receive their gifts as handouts, even for instruction. He told us that every sigma we gain should be from our own finds and conquests, so he never gave us any.¡± ¡°Which is why you have a sigma score of 0. I understand what your teacher told you, and it is partly true. All of my sigmas were earned by my own merit.¡± ¡°Of course it''s true! Sir Kagan would never lie!¡± Zeta beamed. ¡°Right¡­was this ¡®Sir Kagan¡¯ a sigma user himself?¡± ¡°Of course. Sir Kagan was the greatest of them all.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°According to whom?¡± ¡°According to him.¡± She started laughing. Zeta couldn¡¯t tell if it was mockery or not. ¡°And I¡¯m going to succeed him.¡± Her laughter grew louder. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I took you seriously at all! I fell into the same trap as Igel and Berto, for God¡¯s sake! Zeta, you could hardly defeat the three of us, and you were lucky we spared you. Look, your worldview is admirable, but it sounds like this teacher of yours wasted years selling you the fantasy of sigmas. Reality is a different beast an imp such as you won¡¯t be able to tame.¡± ¡°Then enlighten me. How does the ¡®real world¡¯ work?¡± She stared at him with a bitter intensity. ¡°Know. Your. Station.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I refuse.¡± Hera frowned. ¡°Denial doesn¡¯t change anything. There are some users in the hundreds of thousands, some in the millions. In your case, anyone, everyone with a single shard of sigma power is your superior. It¡¯s basic math. Maybe if you had a score of a thousand emerging from the womb and were the luckiest baby alive might you stand a chance of becoming ¡®the greatest of them all.¡¯¡± ¡°Well, those high-score users you just mentioned also managed to snag their collection within a lifetime. If they did it, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s not impossible,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Ugh, you frustrating fool!¡± she said. ¡°They are powerful because of their bloodlines. Princes and princesses, kings and queens. Most of their power came from inheriting the sigmas of their ancestors. They run through the family. They practically stole the sigmas from their dead parent¡¯s bodies. With existing power, they acquired more, and the cycle continues exponentially. ¡°You don¡¯t have that time to collect such rare power, and that¡¯s assuming an idiot like you will be lucky enough to live a full lifespan. Maybe your successors, at best,¡± Hera continued. Zeta gazed out to the port beside them and the sea beyond. He envisioned the plentiful threats that lay in the limits of the world. Threats he needed to stop. Masters he needed to save. ¡°You¡¯re partially right, Hera. I don¡¯t have any time.¡± ¡°Well, you should be grateful to hear it from me. I¡¯m the most qualified person in this entire damn city to tell you who cranks the handle on history. I¡¯m glad some part of you is sane.¡± ¡°Because I have to bring humanity world peace before I die.¡± ¡°Never mind.¡± ¡°Hera, do you know what I do for a living? I¡¯m new to the career, but I want to excel. Some call it ¡®being a hero,¡¯ but I hate that term. My only want is to heal this world, to purge it of the plague that puppeteers mankind. That¡¯s not some value I adopted, it¡¯s a collective request from my master. ¡°I may not have learned much about sigmas during my time with Sir Kagan. What I did learn, however, was the worth of humanity. I fell in love with our species, and I want to protect, to heal, to help them. ¡°The people are my master, and I am a servant. I¡¯m a Servant of Humanity. What humanity wants is peace, an end to the constant suffering even if they can¡¯t admit it, so I need to find the root of that problem and excise it, for that is what my master wants.¡± The moment Zeta referred to himself as a ¡®servant,¡¯ Hera froze and went pale. When he finished preaching, she rose, smacked him again and motioned to leave. ¡°In regards to who you are, I got my answer, you lunatic,¡± she seethed. Zeta called after her. ¡°Wait, do you happen to know anyone in need of work? I¡¯m desperate!¡± She stormed off without an answer. To a degree, Zeta expected that reaction. He knew most people would call him insane after hearing his spiel about being the ¡®Servant of Humanity¡¯ bit, but in Hera¡¯s case, he seemed to have struck a deeper nerve than he realized. I wonder what that¡¯s all about? ¡°Hey! There he is Igel!¡± came an inconvenient voice. Zeta turned to spot two familiar lugs of man coming at him. Zeta sighed. ¡°Talk about terrible timing.¡± HERA Hera announced her return to home with a slammed door, then she took a seat at the kitchen. Unfortunately, that spot had acquired enough bad baggage over the past day, so she went upstairs and sat in a chair instead, face in hands. He ruined her day absolutely. Is everything a joke to that idiot? It was insulting. To call oneself a servant and toss the word around as if it meant something exceptional. No, it was a word used for the inferior. Hera knew that much. Her tolerance for his stupidity burst, but she had a gut feeling that it wouldn¡¯t be the end of it. Sure enough, half an hour later someone was knocking on the door. The stubborn mule never gave up, did he? Her anger cooled without healing, which in her opinion made it more lethal. After another round of knocks, Hera yanked the door open and started pounding on Zeta¡¯s chest again with Neural Fighter. ¡°Why. Do. You. Keep. Coming. Back. Here,¡± she iterated with every hit. ¡°Just. Leave. Me. Alone. And. Go. Away!¡± On the last strike, Zeta went flying backward into a pile of baggage lying behind him. He gripped his chest in pain. Hera scoffed in disappointment. ¡°You let me have that one.¡± ¡°Listen,¡± he began. ¡°I returned to say I¡¯m sorry. For all his greatness, growing up with Sir Kagan and a handful of the same faces didn¡¯t teach me much in nuance. I think I came off kind of strong.¡± ¡°That¡¯s putting it mildly,¡± she said. Hera noticed what Zeta was lying against. ¡°Berto? Igel!¡± Zeta awkwardly scratched his ear. ¡°After you left, they kind of found me and there was no running away. Don¡¯t worry, they¡¯re just a little dazed.¡± Hera found it hard to believe him considering their eyes had rolled back into their skulls. He continued. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I said to upset you, Hera, but one day I want to know. I don¡¯t want to leave this city with someone on bad terms if I can¡¯t help it. More than that, I want you to tell me of your own free will, no conditions attached. No forceful interrogations. Truth is, I guess I need a second voice, an expert opinion. Can you help me? ¡°This time, don¡¯t be afraid of me. Now I¡¯ll be the one indebted to you.¡± Hera crossed her arms and examined his expression as he spoke to determine it genuine. She sighed. ¡°If you want food and rest, pay it back and pull your own weight. While you''re under my roof, follow my rules. Can you do that?¡± ¡°Heh. Normally I wouldn¡¯t accept. That kind of absolutist policy opens too many doors that I can¡¯t escape from.¡± Zeta smiled. ¡°But I trust you, so okay.¡± She nodded. ¡°Good.¡± Zeta gestured to her partners half-conscious on the ground. ¡°We should probably treat them. Where¡¯s the doctor?¡± Hera shook her head. ¡°First lesson about Aspic. Unless you have many friends, treat your own wounds. They¡¯re lucky to be my friends.¡±
Pocket Inventory - Meta, Portal: Creates a small rift to a personal pocket dimension which holds tangible items in a secure location. Can be accessed at any time. (5).
  • (A) Slide two fingers through the air. No VC required.
  • Objects must be able to fit through the small rift to be added.
  • The contents of one''s Pocket Inventory are exposed to those who use Read Inventory on the user, although non-users cannot rip into a Pocket Inventory without the use of a specific sigma.O
  • Can only hold a maximum of 50 separate items
    • Can contain separate, unemployed sigmas.
1-8 Ambitions Cage HERA Hera gently wormed the last herb into Igel¡¯s mouth and closed it as the evening climate settled on her home. With that, he should be well off to move by morning. It was a natural remedy, unfortunately, and not a Healing type sigma, but it would have to do. Zeta brushed his hands off as he finished treating Berto, a big, warm grin on his face. If nothing else, Hera was astonished. The man knew nothing of sigmas, but he expertly handled another¡¯s care. ¡°You should give up on being a ¡®hero.¡¯ I think medicine is a better practice for you,¡± she said. ¡°Come on, you know I don¡¯t like that term. If you¡¯re going to mock it, at least get the name right.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not completely mocking it. I¡¯m serious. Be a doctor. God knows Aspic needs a permanent one.¡± ¡°Hmm. Something tells me an arrangement like that wouldn¡¯t last long in this city.¡± You don¡¯t know the half of it, she thought. ¡°Be cautious. When Berto and Igel wake up and see you here, they¡¯ll likely return to violence.¡± ¡°Then they¡¯ll return to a state of unconsciousness.¡± Zeta tapped the pommel of his sword. He gazed to the door and around the room, frowning. ¡°I see your neighbor hasn¡¯t come home yet.¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± She didn¡¯t want to admit it, but Mrs. Olgue was missing, and Hera had little time to investigate. Before Zeta arrived, she suspected the old woman just woke up and went elsewhere for the day. It was none of Hera¡¯s business, so she didn¡¯t pry; the last thing she wanted was for her neighbor to investigate upstairs in retaliation. Homelessness was not on the agenda. But that very morning, after Zeta had already arrived, the front door never opened once until the two of them left. Mrs. Olgue had never come home. Where is she? Zeta snapped her out of her worry. ¡°So when are you going to return what¡¯s rightfully mine?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°The sigmas you stole yesterday. Sure, I was bloody and beaten, but we¡¯re allies now. Let¡¯s start off fair and return old possessions.¡± She crossed her arms. ¡°I consider those spoils of war.¡± ¡°What, the war I won?¡± ¡°You never won a thing!¡± He gestured to the home they stood inside. ¡°Didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°If you want to use that to bargain, then I¡¯ll acknowledge your stay here as your back pay. You never asked for the sigmas during our deal, so I have no obligation to give them to you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s called thievery,¡± he said ¡°It¡¯s called business.¡± ¡°Well, then I¡¯ll take them back from you.¡± ¡°With what? They¡¯re in my Pocket Inventory. You can¡¯t pry that open.¡± ¡°I bet there is a sigma that can.¡± Her lips curled into a foxy grin. ¡°There is. I could sell you one for a silver Nibble.¡± Zeta scowled, but there was stir behind him. Berto slowly lifted his head and blinked, trying to regain vision. ¡°Whe¨Cwhere am I?¡± Hera moved to his side. ¡°It¡¯s okay, Berto. You¡¯re safe and healthy. Igel too.¡± ¡°I¨CI don¡¯t remember what¡­that man?¡± He turned his head and saw Zeta. ¡°That man!¡± ¡°Berto, don¡¯t¨C¡± Berto swung, but Zeta sidestepped with ease. Berto¡¯s body was still fatigued, and he could hardly find the balance to move. He tumbled into Igel, who received a much more painful awakening. ¡°Berto! Ow!¡± ¡°We gotta kill him! He¡¯s back.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Berto, Igel, calm down. Let me tell you everything.¡± She explained Zeta¡¯s new role among their group. How an enemy became a friend. Despite her warm tone, her partners were reluctant to accept it. She understood. It was still jarring for her as well. ¡°An ally, huh?¡± Igel said. ¡°Why him of all people?¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s too weak to fit in with us,¡± said Berto. ¡°I knocked the two of you out, remember? Want a reminder?¡± ¡°Calm down, Zeta.¡± ¡°I am calm.¡± He was right, but his stoic approach to beating people up was unnerving for her. Hera still planned to research recent asylum breakouts. ¡°What will the Lion think, Hera?¡± Igel asked. She grew cold at the name. A bead of sweat trickled along the valley of her back. ¡°He doesn¡¯t need to know. Our personal organization matters little so long as he receives his share.¡± Then came the question she dreaded to hear from Zeta¡¯s annoying voice. ¡°Who¡¯s the Lion?¡± Damn it, Igel, why did you have to drop his name. It was a part of her life she wanted to delay telling Zeta. ¡°He¡¯s¡­my boss.¡± ¡°I thought you were independent?¡± ¡°I am¡­kind of. I¡¯d call myself a client more than a direct employee. Not my choice, mind you, but unlike some people, I value my life and that of my partners. So we fell in line.¡± ¡°Sounds like you don¡¯t like this man. What¡¯s his name?¡± No, no. I don¡¯t like where this is leading. ¡°Balder Rex,¡± Berto said. ¡°He calls himself the Lion of Aspic.¡± Dammit, Berto! Why didn¡¯t the two of them just stay asleep? ¡°Sort of like how Hera here calls herself the Harpy of Aspic?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t call myself that! That¡¯s what the city named me. In any case, I know what you¡¯re thinking, and I¡¯m going to tell you right now. Zeta, stay away.¡± He took a chair and sat down in a leisurely manner, leaning back and smiling. ¡°Sounds like a story.¡± ¡°No, no, no. No story. Not for you. Earn it.¡± Nothing he could do would be worthy, but that wasn¡¯t the point. ¡°You might as well tell me,¡± Zeta said, gesturing to Berto and Igel. ¡°Or I¡¯ll get it from them.¡± ¡°My lips are sealed, asshole,¡± Igel said. ¡°Mine too!¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see about that,¡± Zeta said, gripping his sword. ¡°Stop! Fine! No violence! Just promise you won¡¯t be rash, Zeta.¡± ¡°I¨C¡± he hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± ¡°That didn¡¯t sound like a promise.¡± ¡°Take it or leave it.¡± ¡°Ugh! Why didn¡¯t we kill you when we had the chance?¡± ¡°Now you regret it?¡± ¡°Be quiet, Igel. Fine. Balder Rex is¡­less than reputable morally, but nevertheless, he¡¯s our boss. Don¡¯t. Cross. Him. Especially not when you¡¯re under the Harpy¡¯s banner. I¡¯m not going down with you. ¡°Balder Rex controls the entire sigma trade in Aspic. It¡¯s a monopoly. Any and all competitors that are not his associates have been found dead on Axle Island¡¯s other coast. Sign up or die. It¡¯s a significant loss in revenue, but it¡¯s still a decent living. I¡¯d rather not upset the status quo.¡± ¡°Sounds like you lack ambition.¡± ¡°Zeta! Rex is practically the mayor of the city! The real one is conveniently away on some other continent, supposedly on business. We haven¡¯t seen him in three years, Zeta. Balder Rex is our leader, even if the Technocracy won¡¯t acknowledge that. Everyone who¡¯s anyone here works for or with him. ¡°Not even you can take that on. You understand that, right?¡± Zeta sat there with the most punchable smirk on his face. He sat in silent contemplation for approximately a minute. ¡°I do.¡± ¡°You¨C¡± Wait, he¡¯s agreeing! ¡°There¡¯s one thing that¡¯s been bothering me, and I know we¡¯ll have to confront it sooner or later in our¡­¡¯arrangement.¡¯ I can¡¯t with good conscious let you continue mugging people for sigmas.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t make that call! That¡¯s not what he agreed!¡± ¡°I know, so I have a suggestion. This ¡®Balder Rex¡¯ is apparently a problem. He seems to be the root of the sinister operations here, and he needs to go as well.¡± ¡°Zeta!¡± ¡°Let me finish. Hera, Berto, Igel, the three of you are crying in pain from an injury you don¡¯t even know you have. Rex offers no advantage to you, he just keeps you in line through fear. I won¡¯t tell you to uproot your livelihood, at least not now, but you can work for a better person, yourselves. Why don¡¯t you fill the void that Balder Rex leaves as leaders of the Aspic sigma trade?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t speak as if you can just walk up and kill the Lion of Aspic, fool,¡± Igel said. ¡°I¡¯m not saying that. Operate gradually, taking down small segments to weaken Rex until you can make the true coup happen. Of course, it¡¯s all if you¡¯re willing to adopt that banner. Are you, Harpy of Aspic?¡± It sounded awful, suicidal. There was no way they would succeed, yet¡­maybe it was possible. They had Zeta here, and for all his faults, he appeared competent in battle, even if he would be often outmatched. A part of Hera wished to blow out the match before it burned her hand. Impulsively, she said, ¡°Yes. Let¡¯s free ourselves.¡± Now it was done, and there would be no retreat. IVAN FOXWELL, an associate of Balder Rex ¡°Come on, Berto. The Lion wants to go to sleep, and this report is the final thing on his agenda,¡± Ivan said. He had found Berto wandering the streets, heading home a little earlier than he should have been in this business. Clients chose their own working hours, of course, but that didn¡¯t stop his curiosity. ¡°Wha¨Cwhat is it I¡¯m supposed to tell him?¡± the idiot asked. ¡°Mr. Rex hasn¡¯t heard from the Harpy in a couple of weeks, not physically anyway. He¡¯s hurt, even if he has received his share of your profits, which were lower than usual, I might add. We¡¯re concerned, Berto. Is everything holding up well among the Harpy¡¯s crew?¡± ¡°Well¡­not exactly.¡± Berto was kind enough to tell Ivan about some stranger that delivered a thrashing upon them. Come to think of it, he did notice the scrapes and bandages on Berto¡¯s body when they entered better lighting, and the man had been clutching his arm throughout their entire walk. What really caught Ivan¡¯s attention was that the Harpy was now working with this assailant, and Berto didn¡¯t quite understand why. He had a general idea but gave a shoddy framework of a description. All he knew is that it involved the Lion of Aspic, and as soon as that name dropped, Ivan refused to let Berto go home until he elaborated to Mr. Rex. Ivan placed his hand on the doors to the underground bar, the Den, which required Mr. Rex¡¯s specially established passcode, known only to members and clients, powered and opened purely by the Lock and Key sigma. Ivan was the one who possessed and created the sigma door, it was one of his proudest contributions to Mr. Rex. ¡°Corticus,¡± he said, and the seal opened. The Den was packed tonight with thugs and members of The Lion¡¯s hierarchy getting wasted, dancing and shooting into the air to create an atmosphere of chaos. It was wonderful. This anarchy was Mr. Rex¡¯s dream world. Only once contained in a small space could the beauty be appreciated. Near the back of the Den, a large table with three figures sat isolated from the rest, surrounded by bodyguards to cordon the area away from the clients that dominated the club. Ivan took Berto there without a second glance. ¡°I fold,¡± said the figure on the left, a skinny scythe wielder, Terrent Gust, the Curved Storm. ¡°Tonight I imagined you actually had a chance to beat him. Shame, bets on you are a scam, Terrent,¡± said the figure on the right. He considered himself a gunslinger before joining them years ago. A migrant from the deserts of the Western Shelf, Marc Crue of the Ghost Gun. And at the center of the table sat a man who now claimed all the chips from their game. The Lion of Aspic, Balder Rex. Standing in his presence was pleasantly thrilling. Ivan wanted to bow but figured that was a bit excessive. Marc Crue noticed him approach. ¡°Got something, Ivan?¡± Ivan gestured to Berto. ¡°Our friend has quite a tale. Go on, Berto, tell Mr. Rex what you told me.¡± Reluctance was emphasized with every note in Berto¡¯s voice. Nevertheless, he reiterated his information about the Harpy¡¯s new associate. When he finished, he gulped in fear. Terrent and Marc didn¡¯t seem to care, but Balder sat back in his chair and smiled. ¡°Interesting.¡±
Lock and Key - Craft, Defense, Larceny: Can establish a particular code phrase or gesture required to open a door. No other methods can open the locked door except for an extreme, suitable force. (492).
  • (A) Place hand on the targeted door. Say either ''phrase'' or ''gesture,'' then subsequently speak or perform the desired code. (Hands may be removed from the door for gestures).
  • Anyone, even beyond the owner, who placed delivers the passcode will be permitted entry. Note that people can slip inside while doors are transitioning, even if they did not perform the passcode.
  • Lock and Key will search for registered mechanics such as basic hinges or massive gears within a door and it''s frame to determine precisely how it is opened and closed. If these cannot be found, Lock and Key cannot apply.
  • Only the owner of the same Lock and Key sigma that created the door can remove it, regardless of the original creator.
    • As with any sigma, if the owner dies, Lock and Key is automatically out of effect.
  • Lock and Key will not work on doors with a surface area greater than 5 meters squared or doors with a weight greater than 200 kilograms.
1-9 Failing Grade ZETA Following Hera into the nights of Aspic seemed like a dream, or maybe a nightmare, Zeta wasn¡¯t sure. All he knew is that he was being towed along without a clue of the destination nor the purpose of their venture. ¡°Come on, come on! Please still be open, you old gas bag,¡± Hera muttered to herself. ¡°Care to let me know who or what you¡¯re talking about?¡± asked Zeta. They rounded another corner. Hera froze in her tracks and called out, ¡°Hey! No! Phil, don¡¯t you dare flip that sign!¡± ¡°Sorry, Hera, it¡¯s closing time. No more customers,¡± a shopkeep responded. ¡°You close when I say you close! Or do I have to bring this up with the Lion?¡± ¡°No¡­no, you don¡¯t need to do that. I''ll stay open, but not too long, you hear?¡± Zeta analyzed the store she was harassing. A family shop passed along generations, nothing outstandingly special. It was the only remaining lit store on this street, and the air inside burst with a fragrance of customer accommodation. It had the roundish diamond symbol with an ambiguous core commonly associated with sigma. Truly a quaint shop. ¡°Hera, why are we here?¡± She pulled out a sack of Nibbles. ¡°Because you are, as I shall ordain, sigma-incompetent. At zero score, you don¡¯t even have the standard set. So we¡¯re going to buy it before we even think about upsetting the industry.¡± ¡°Wait, you''re buying the standard set? Praise God, I didn¡¯t think anyone would buy it ever again! The damn set is too common,¡± commented Phil. ¡°I¡¯ll be right back! I¡¯ll pull it out of storage.¡± He darted into the inners of his store. ¡°Even if Phil¡¯s happy, I¡¯m embarrassed to be buying this once more. Nobody buys this set anymore, which is why I have none on hand, to begin with.¡± Zeta shook his head. ¡°Whoa, whoa. You¡¯re buying me the set?¡± ¡°Yes. The standard set is so basic that it¡¯s a requisite for any prospective sigma user. Anyone, even the farmer who gave you that basic sigma.¡± ¡°Come to think of it, you never returned th¨C¡± ¡°Zeta, standard sigmas are the very powers that allow you to read what a sigma does in the first place. Grades, Types, Conditions. I think that¡¯s kind of important.¡± ¡°Hera, hold on,¡± Zeta said. ¡°I can¡¯t accept a handout, even if it is a necessity, as you claim. I¡¯m not against buying sigmas, but if I do, it¡¯s going to be with my money and my hard work.¡± ¡°Well, idiot, your ''work'' will kill you if you don¡¯t have the standard set, so enough with the pride.¡± She started funneling through her bag for the money as they heard Phil coming up the stairs. Zeta grabbed her wrist. ¡°Hera, don¡¯t underestimate me. You said we came out here tonight to test me anyway, right?¡± She scowled, but then considered it for a moment. ¡°Fine, you don¡¯t have to accept them, but at least let me buy them, so we have it on hand, okay? After each successful takedown, I¡¯ll reward you with a sigma.¡± Zeta smiled. ¡°I only accept payments in sigma anyway.¡± ¡°Yeah, no wonder you¡¯ll always be poor. Maybe if you found a sigma that spawned a gold mine¡­¡± Phil came sprinting back to the shop floor, clutching a box of ten sigmas, each with a grey core to represent the Standard grade. ¡°Holy shit, these were a pain to find. It¡¯s hard to believe I can still sell a copy. Ten years ago they used to give these away for free, can you believe it?¡± ¡°Oh, I believe it,¡± Hera groaned. ¡°I remember.¡± She paid him, ripped open her Pocket Inventory and tossed all ten sigmas inside. On a side note, apparently, Pocket Inventory itself was one of the standard set. How convenient. ¡°Now for the next agenda on the list,¡± Hera said. ¡°Right. Do you have a target?¡± asked Zeta. She grimaced. ¡°Not definitively, but I know where to start. We need to stalk the Den.¡± ¡°Sounds ominous.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Rex¡¯s hangout. It would be suicide to do anything in the vicinity, but we can track a suitable target as they leave. Follow me.¡± She bolted down the street in the dead of night. Although not physically connected, Zeta felt the strange sensation of being caught on a fish hook. Reeled along by an undetermined source of willpower. Behind a building, Hera started scaling a ladder. Zeta believed that to be an obsolete and disadvantageous feat, so with his reasonable judgment, he climbed the building¡¯s face instead. In his mind, he thanked Sir Kagan for teaching him how to climb, even if his dear master forgot a safety net more often than not. In reflection, was that intentional? After he pushed himself to the roof, Hera joined him soon after, scowling at his boastful display. She crawled to the other edge of the roof and gazed down. Amid the taller buildings of Aspic¡¯s skyline, a small crevice sat between them with a short, crumbling stone stairway to a poorly lit set of doors. The Den, apparently. A stakeout. How Boring! Although, Zeta figured it was necessary when in context. Men and women alike stumbled in and out of the Den, utilizing a password that neither of them could hear. He suspected Hera probably knew it. For about an hour, they waited, until finally, three triplets left the Den drunk.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Them! The Lilick Brothers. They¡¯ll be easy,¡± Hera said. ¡°I think I know where to isolate them. Come!¡± Another tight leash as they jumped between the building roofs for another half an hour, the targets never out of sight where they moved. Zeta imagined himself a predator, yet applying that title to himself made him queasy. Silently, like a masterful tactician, Hera made the gestures to get into position. The Lilick Brothers entered an alley, a shortcut on their way home. At an equal distance from the escapes, Zeta and Hera pounced. ¡°Wha¨Cwhat is this?¡± one brother mumbled. ¡°Hey! It¡¯s you. The Larpy or whatever.¡± ¡°No, dimwit, she¡¯s a fairy. Come to take my teeth, fairy?¡± They all started laughing. Seeing the brothers in their drunken stupor made Zeta eerie of assaulting them. His right hand, holding Black Meridian, shivered. Hera noticed his worry, so she called out to him, ¡°It¡¯s alright, Zeta. Give them a moment, you¡¯ll see.¡± The third target looked at his two comrades. ¡°Eh, is someone taulkin? Let¡¯s see who she really is, shall we? Y¡¯all remember the coooooddddeeee word?¡± ¡°I¡­I think so,¡± a brother burped. ¡°Me too.¡± ¡°Okay, then one, two, three.¡± ¡°Liver Cleanse!¡± they all said in unison. They raised their arms, and a strange, green, gaseous aura cloaked them. Afterward, they all gripped their heads and stomachs and struggled to regain their footing. Once the headaches passed, they looked around with more clarity, completely sober. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s Hera. Idiots, you said ¡®Larpy¡¯! You meant Harpy,¡± one said. ¡°Yeah, yeah, my mistake. Harpy, what are you doing here?¡± Hera adopted an entirely new personality. Even across the alley, Zeta could see the menace in her eyes. ¡°An examination for my new associate. Care to be questions one, two, and three?¡± Confused, the trio glanced at each other. ¡°Oi! What is this? Hera. You¡¯re acting strangely.¡± ¡°Yeah! Whose questions?¡± ¡°Back there,¡± the third brother said, pointing at Zeta. ¡°Who are you? I don¡¯t recognize your face in Aspic.¡± Usually, Zeta prepared a retort, yet a dim feeling obstructed any rational response. Hera laughed, each beat concealing underlying disdain. Zeta shivered, her interactions between friend and foe differed like the flick of a switch. It reminded him of his own back-alley encounter. ¡°He¡¯s the silent type, Jolt, or is it Colt? I can¡¯t tell the difference between you three. Oh, whatever. You triplets shared a womb, now you¡¯ll share a grave.¡± It took a moment to breach their thick skulls, but the brothers finally understood. ¡°Oh, I get it, you¡¯re trying to make a move on our turf. You stupid witch, the Lion won¡¯t let you get away with this. ¡°Don¡¯t fool yourself, Jolt. Accidents happen,¡± Hera said with a smirk. ¡°All it takes is a finger pointed in another direction, and no one in Aspic will bat an eye. Least of all for you degenerates. Oh, and I¡¯m not making a move on anything. This whole city is my turf.¡± Jolt growled. ¡°Err! Bolt, Colt, get her!¡± She winked. ¡°Watch out behind you!¡± ¡°Right, my cue,¡± he whispered. A note of displeasure hung in his voice. He charged them from the other end of the alley. The one named Bolt turned around. ¡°I¡¯ll get the swordsman! He looks easy.¡± ¡°Yeah, he wants a test, give him a failing grade!¡± his brother called. Bolt and Colt raised their palms and curled their fingers. ¡°Charge Shots!¡± Rings of electricity connected each digit. Bolt faced Zeta and pointed one palm at him. In a flash, the lightning concentrated in the center of the hand before shooting a projectile towards Zeta nearly at the speed of light. Nearly. The bolt was fast, yet the owner telegraphed his aim too much. Bolt gargled with rage. He fired four more successive shots, each one immediately after the last and adjusting to Zeta¡¯s sidestepping. For the bolts that Zeta didn¡¯t dodge, he absorbed with his sword, insulated at the hilt. Five shots, then all the electricity, on the one hand, was gone, so Bolt quickly switched arms and used his other palm. Five more shots, none of them landed. He cried with rage and crunched all his fingers, and the rings of electricity were all restored. Oh, the marvel of sigmas, Zeta thought. Bolt started shooting from both hands at once. Double the suppression, double the fun. Zeta raised Black Meridian to his face, absorbed the hits, leaped and landed on Bolt, planting the pommel in his forehead, so he stumbled. Finally, Zeta twirled and slashed at the torso to stun and down him. He ensured he avoided the vitals. On the other end, Hera had made short work of Colt with a series of Neural Flashes followed by Neural Fighter. She seemed to take great pleasure in its effectiveness. Maybe the fact that Zeta had adapted discouraged her. Jolt, alone and entrapped between them, was torn with rage and the sight of his defeated brothers. He raised both hands, full of Charge Shots, and aimed one at each assailant. He tore his gaze to Zeta and said, ¡°Read!¡± When he was done, he added, ¡°A sigma score of 0? What the hell! Who are you!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t answer him,¡± Hera said, ¡°Mystery makes a stronger man.¡± Hearing that, Zeta lowered his sword. Jolt fired the Charged Shots pointed his direction. Panicked aim. Zeta leaned his head, and they all missed. ¡°Hold on, Hera. This isn¡¯t right.¡± She looked at him and processed what he said. Her reaction was a mixture of confusion and contempt. ¡°No¡­Zeta, don¡¯t be getting second thoughts now of all times.¡± ¡°It¡¯s eating at me, viciously. Hera, look at him,¡± Zeta said, gesturing to Jolt. ¡°Look at his brothers. They¡¯re down and out, and this fight did no harm to anyone else. I have a feeling of what you¡¯re planning to do, and I can¡¯t accept that.¡± ¡°Damn it! No! Remember what I told you? These guys are scum! They¡¯re the real killers in Rex¡¯s organization. They¡¯re not like me! If you suggest mercy¨C¡± Zeta pointed his sword at Jolt, who panicked immediately and accidentally sent a bolt flying at Hera. ¡°You there, how many have you killed during your career?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°Wha¨Cwhat?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid, he¡¯s not going to tell you the truth,¡± said Hera. ¡°No, no, I will! I swear, just, please spare my brothers,¡± Jolt said. Zeta continued. ¡°I want details. Everything. How your operations run, how many you¡¯ve killed. Don¡¯t skip a single detail.¡± He blabbed like water flowing out of a broken dam. They retrieved their stock from off the island, had it delivered outside the city, and brought it inside. ¡°Tell me, what is the cost of this operation?¡± Zeta asked, sticking the point of Black Meridian beneath Jolt¡¯s jawline. ¡°Not in money, but in lives. How many do you kill?¡± Jolt started hyperventilating. ¡°No¨Cno one. Not a soul.¡± ¡°Absolute bull! Don¡¯t listen to him. I meant it when I said I¡¯m the only pure soul in Rex¡¯s organization. He and his brothers used to boast about their first kill all the time!¡± ¡°It was to look good, I swear. We didn¡¯t actually mean it.¡± Zeta increased pressure. ¡°You¡¯re lying. Lying isn¡¯t favorable.¡± Tears started rolling from Jolt¡¯s eyes. His words came amid sobs. ¡°If I tell you, do I live?¡± ¡°If he cries any louder, all of Aspic will know what¡¯s going on. End this!¡± Hera said, her teeth clenched into a bloodthirsty grill. ¡°It all depends on the bet you¡¯re willing to take, Jolt,¡± said Zeta. ¡°The default option for no answer is death.¡± ¡°THERE WAS ONE!¡± he cried, then braced to die. It never came, Zeta eased the pressure. Jolt lowered his voice and continued. ¡°Colt didn¡¯t mean to do it. The buyer was a frail old man. Buyer¡¯s remorse. He tried to bail on us, and we confronted him. Colt had only recently employed his copy of Charge Shots then, using it to scare the man into a purchase. He didn¡¯t know how to use it. A bolt went off¡­¡± Jolt gulped in his reminiscence, ¡°¡­right in the man¡¯s eye.¡± Zeta lowered his sword. ¡°An accident? And that¡¯s your only kill?¡± ¡°Accident or no, it doesn¡¯t excuse their actions! I¡¯m telling you, he¡¯s softening the story to win you over.¡± Hera reached into her clothes and retrieved a knife. ¡°If you don¡¯t do it, I will!¡± Black Meridian cut through the air. The flat of the blade perfectly blocked the point of her knife, sparing it inches from Jolt¡¯s throat. He quivered in fear. Hera was horrified at Zeta¡¯s reflexes. ¡°Jolt, for your crime, I give you and your brothers a life sentence. There is no prison for me to hold you, but you shall be condemned not by the stroke of an executioner¡¯s blade, but by your own commitment to your will to live. ¡°Jolt Lilick, Bolt Lilick, Colt Lilick. All three of you shall eject every sigma in your possession and leave the city of Aspic. What you do then is up to you.¡± ¡°Zeta, this is foolish!¡± She dropped his name, no longer regarding his identity. ¡°They will go straight to Balder!¡± ¡°Hera, if we resort to the same sick and twisted sense of killing as a means of justice, without at least giving the perpetrator an option otherwise, how are we better? Ponder on your role in the world when you have to start at the very bottom. Absolutely no sigmas. Just like me.¡± Jolt was terrified, abhorred by the prospect of losing it all. From what Zeta understood, sigmas were a complicated tool to use, yet everyone used them. Lifetimes were spent in their pursuit. Men like Rog in Greenwich were offered a chance to avoid succumbing to their own dark deeds, yet they failed to catch the second chance before them. Jolt was different, and Zeta¡¯s precedent still stood. ¡°Eject! Eject! Eject! Eject!¡± Jolt said as he placed two fingers upon his chest. Four sigmas popped out, a mixture of Elementary and Basic grade. Zeta took them to the shore, where the other brothers woke up. They were loaded onto the very boat that used to drop off their supply. Bolt and Colt also relinquished their sigmas, although reluctantly. Wordless, Zeta pushed them off to sea, and the triplets sunk into pondering despair. At least they had their lives. Hera stood nearby, yet Zeta could almost feel the heat of her resentment. ¡°Tonight was a test, I know that, and I¡¯m sure by now I¡¯ve received failed marks,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Just know that when I saw the way you treated your foes, your fellow humans, like utter dirt, I refused to let them die. Don¡¯t ever behave that way again, or our partnership has a short lifespan.¡± He expected her to explode at his threats, but Hera stayed at the same seething temperature. ¡°How arrogant. Who gave an outcast like you the right to define justice? It¡¯s utterly pathetic, and I¡¯ll wager it¡¯s bound to get you killed.¡± Hera packed in the Lilick Brother¡¯s sigmas into her Pocket Inventory, then she stormed home. Zeta didn''t rush to follow. He sat on the question she proposed, staring into the water, watching the Lilick Brothers sail away in their small ship. Somehow, he only saw Sir Kagan¡¯s face in the reflection. His teacher was shaking his head.
Charge Shots - Lightning: Rings of electricity connect the user¡¯s five fingers on each hand. The user can fire five small electric shocks like pellets from each hand at a target, which adds up to ten shots total. (175).
  • (A) Curl fingers over palm so that a circular ring of electricity can connect all five digits of the hand. Jab one finger forward to fire any of the five shots.
  • Each shot is approximately 0.01 mA. Just enough to be registered as pain, but not enough to cripple a target.
1-10 Divine Lessons ZETA A bout of insomnia prevented Zeta from receiving any proper sleep. A multitude of unpleasant factors contributed to its creation. By morning¡¯s rise, his eyes had only closed to blink. His body was too exhausted to be exhausted, a miserable cycle. Zeta strolled into the kitchen to find a stuffed bag of sigmas unaccompanied. He recognized the collection of colors to be the loot from last night, although Zeta wondered why it was just lying about. Upstairs, he found Hera kneeling at the foot of her bed with a strange bronze statue sitting on the frame, her hands clasped together. ¡°Praying to God?¡± he asked. She didn¡¯t flinch at his voice, so she knew he was there. ¡°Yes. I haven¡¯t had any time nor motivation since you arrived.¡± ¡°Wow, so my presence is enough to disrupt your spirituality?¡± ¡°No, you fool,¡± she said. ¡°In this profession, prayer is essential. Attunement with the Divine is obligatory for sigma usage. You would¡¯ve known that if you knew anything at all.¡± ¡°Then teach me, Mrs. Verdure.¡± ¡°Only if you never call me that again.¡± She scooted over, and Zeta copied her pose. He noticed her eyes were shut, so closed his as well. ¡°Zeta, I know you¡¯re aware that sigma users have no numeric limitations on their powers. Sigma scores are indefinite, and therefore, so are the number of sigmas a user can possess. A long time ago, sigmas used to be rare, even at the Basic grade, but we¡¯ve long since explored and exploited many of the ancient sites in which they were located. They are abundant, so how do you imagine people aren¡¯t decimating the whole world every other day?¡± ¡°I never thought about it that way.¡± ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t. Such is the fate of the uneducated. It¡¯s because of something known as Divinity. ¡°To use a sigma, regardless of the score, the user must prove themselves ¡®worthy¡¯ of a sigma¡¯s power. All worthiness means is that you need to accumulate a numeric amount of Divinity equal to the score of the newly acquired sigma. A score of 100 requires 100 Divinity, for example.¡± ¡°Which is why I¡¯m sitting here praying.¡± ¡°Yes, but it goes further than that. Praying is a natural accumulation of Divinity, but prayer only provides about 10 Divinity an hour. To clarify what I said yesterday, sigma types speed this accumulation process up for fellow sigmas of the same type, which is why there are most users chooses a sigma focus. It¡¯s the most realistic way to use sigmas, but it doesn¡¯t discourage selecting sigmas from other types too.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be a focus for all types,¡± Zeta said. ¡°You¡¯ll be eating those words by the end of the week. I¡¯m not done, fool. Even with all I¡¯ve told you, there¡¯s still plenty of motivation for a psychopath to destroy the world. ¡°There are four Divinity Limiters, as scholars have identified. The first is one you already know: Rarity. Obviously, a mind sigma doesn¡¯t cross my path every other day, and even if it did, I¡¯d probably just sell it. ¡°The second is Mastery. Sigmas lay out the foundations for their use, but almost all require further training. The best sigma users don¡¯t just know how to use their sigmas, they know when. They strategize, and they can pull those strategies to their benefit on the fly. ¡°The third is the Divinity Queue. This is what prevents people from employing multiple sigmas at once. If you employed every sigma downstairs right now, you wouldn¡¯t be able to use any of them until the Divinity for all of them is fulfilled. ¡°The fourth and final Limiter requires an understanding of the concept known as Excess. More often than not, a sigma user will have a fulfilled all their sigmas¡¯ Divinity, so what use is prayer then. All Divinity gained after complete fulfillment is stored by the user in Excess, and this Excess can be used to automatically satisfy any new sigma employed in the future. ¡°Here¡¯s the catch. Regardless of the amount of Excess the user has, all of it is consumed upon the next sigma employment, even if the sigma score is a thousand times smaller than what the user has. 2 million Divinity Excess will all be wasted on a score of 2 thousand.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°People are greedy. The ambitious always believe they will one day have a Magnum sigma, so they¡¯re constantly saving their Excess to use it immediately. Once you start saving Excess, you can never employ another sigma lest you are willing to lose it all.¡± When she concluded, Zeta merely sat there and grinned. ¡°Fascinating. Thank you for your morning instruction, teacher. If you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯d prefer some experimentation with the sigmas downstairs, so¡­¡± ¡°In regards to last night¡¯s loot, I¡¯m selling every single sigma,¡± she said as she stood up. ¡°What!¡± ¡°You only have yourself to blame. Berto, Igel and I need to recoup all the resources we spent failing to take you down. That courtesan¡¯s dress was expensive, you know.¡± They went downstairs, where Hera swept all the sigmas tightly in a sack. When it came to money, Zeta felt next to nothing, but when it came to sigmas, the greed poured out. Hera had just shown him what it was like to be taxed. He hated it. ¡°Oh, but I do have something for you since we were so successful,¡± she said. Hera reached into her Pocket Inventory and pulled out one of the standard sigmas. ¡°Your reward. Congratulations, you¡¯re no longer zero-score Zeta after you employ that.¡± ¡°Great! What will my new score be?¡± ¡°One.¡± ¡°One¡­hundred?¡± ¡°No. One. You gained one point. That¡¯s Eject Sigma, the lowest scored and most common sigma of them all. You know what it does? It allows you to remove other sigmas from your person.¡± ¡°Better than nothing. I¡¯ve never asked, but what is your score, Hera?¡± ¡°You can find that out when you get the next standard sigma. Needless to say, it¡¯s greater than yours.¡± Zeta stared at the sigma in his hands. Then an...embarrassing realization occurred. I bother her enough, this might send her into a frenzy. Hera was filling a glass when he asked, ¡°Umm, how do I¡­employ a sigma.¡± Hera choked on the water, but she managed to spit the rest into the washbowl before suffocating. ¡°Zeta, you¡¯re joking.¡± ¡°Are you surprised?¡± She growled. ¡°No. I just wish I didn¡¯t have to take care of a child at age twenty. I¡¯m too young for this.¡± Zeta gestured to the sigma in his hand, waiting for her answer. ¡°Crush it, moron.¡± ¡°Crush it?¡± ¡°Yes, sigmas are rock solid most of the time. A building could fall on them, and they wouldn¡¯t shatter. But in human hands, they¡¯re as delicate as a flower. One of their many mysteries. Go on, squeeze.¡± Zeta tensed his arm and strengthened his grip on the diamond of raw power. It was an awkward performance, but cracks quickly appeared. Then the sigma shattered into a powder of particles that vanished into thin air. ¡°Did¡­did it work?¡± Zeta analyzed his body for any changes. Not even a tingle. ¡°Read.¡± A moment later, Hera smiled. ¡°Yep, it worked. Sigma score of one.¡± ¡°So I can¡­remove any additional sigmas from my body, is that it? Could I possibly remove Eject Sigma itself?¡± She nodded. ¡°All is possible in the Sigma World.¡± She glanced around, notably towards Zeta¡¯s bedroom. ¡°Did Mrs. Olgue return home last night?¡± Zeta shook his head. She furrowed her brow with concern. Another day of absence from that woman. It pleased Zeta to see that Hera cared. To their shock, they heard the door burst open. Berto and Igel stormed in, tired but seemingly replenished from the two days of beatings. They still did not look pleased to see Zeta. ¡°Hera, we¡¯re ready for our next mark,¡± Igel said. ¡°Yeah, the whole organization is rambling! I hear the Lilick brothers are out of business,¡± said Berto. ¡°Damn, I wonder how Mr. Rex is gonna react to our first move.¡± ¡°Berto, he doesn¡¯t know we made a move. As far as he¡¯s concerned, they fled on their own accord,¡± said Hera. ¡°Whad¡¯ya mean? He¡¯ll think it¡¯s us. I told him.¡± Hera¡¯s eyes burst open wide, she dropped the cup in hand, and her face went pale. A second later she sank to the floor. Igel pinned his comrade to the wall. ¡°You did what? Berto, why? Are you the biggest idiot on Axle Island?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand the problem!¡± Berto cried out in desperation. ¡°The Foxwell guy asked me how I was doing, so I told him ¡®bout our new operations. I said business would be booming for all of us! He brought me to the boss, and I told him too.¡± ¡°You spoke with him directly!¡± Now Igel looked sick. ¡°Was it s¡¯posed to be a secret?¡± ¡°Oh my God,¡± Igel said, gripping his stomach, ¡°we¡¯re dead, we¡¯re all dead. I think I¡¯m gonna be¨C¡± he ran for a washbowl to finish that sentence. ¡°The Lion grinned when I told him,¡± Berto continued, ¡°but I think he thinks it¡¯s a long-term investment. Zeta raised an eyebrow. ¡°Berto, what exactly did you tell him? Say it word for word.¡± ¡°¡®Bout you. I said you ¡®ere joining us is all. We got a new partner now, and I guess they¡¯re interested to know.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it? That¡¯s all you said?¡± ¡°Yes. I swear. I don¡¯t get why they¡¯re so upset.¡± ¡°Dead¡­¡± Hera whispered from the floor, half-conscious. Zeta walked to her side. Calmly, he tried shaking her awake. ¡°Hera? HHHHHHeeeeeerrrrraaaaa¡­¡­ There¡¯s nothing to worry about. They don¡¯t know you''re plotting a revolution, they just know that I exist.¡± She jumped to her feet in a fit. ¡°Idiot! I¡¯m not planning a revolution! That¡¯s your idea!¡± She turned to Berto. ¡°And you! You should¡¯ve opened with that. Now Igel¡¯s wasted half my dishware!¡± ¡°What did ya¡¯ say, miss?¡± Igel said as he recovered from his stomach upset. Hera took deep breathes to calm herself down. ¡°Okay. Okay. We¡¯re not in trouble, but we should be wary. Berto, Igel, we need to make revenue. Now,¡± she said as she grabbed the sigma bag. ¡°Go sell these. Usual spots. Three-quarters the price. If one of Rex¡¯s men recognizes the sigmas they¡¯ll know somethings up, so get them out of here and get us our money!¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± they said with lackluster energy. For supposed partners, she had them whipped raw. When they left, Zeta spoke to her. ¡°Hey, stick with it. In no time at all, you¡¯ll be strong enough to threaten him. It may happen sooner than we imagine, then we could make all his allies reconsider their ways without even shedding a single drop of blood. Now wouldn¡¯t that be amazing!¡± Hera didn¡¯t flinch, nod, shake her head or any of her typical reactions. Instead, she just looked at him with sorrowful eyes. ¡°There you go again. Idealism. Zeta, I¡¯m for everything you aspire to be, but I know what is and isn¡¯t realistic. It¡¯s why I can¡¯t be the model crime queen I think you¡¯re picturing. Idealism is fine, but naive idealism will just get you killed.¡± She went for the stairs. ¡°Zeta, when we pray to recover Divinity, you don¡¯t just sit in front of a statue. You do have to actually pray. Last night and this morning, I was praying for God to have mercy on your soul.¡± It was approximately that moment that Zeta realized he forgot to apologize for the previous night. He followed that up with a question. However, do I actually need to?
Enhanced Assault - Dormant, Offense, Physical: Increases the effectiveness of an associated physical maneuver. (100). *Notethatthisisnotasinglesigma,butacollectionofsimilar powers applyingtovariousbodyparts.
  • (A) Perform the designated aggressive gesture.
  • The enhancement is only strong enough to bring the force of the blow to slightly above natural peak performance.
  • There are 15 sigmas in this collection, named ''Enhanced _____.'' Headbutt, Poke, Swing, Jab, Front Kick, Side Kick, Dropkick, Elbow, Knee-up, Charge, Smack, Cut, Body Slam, Grip, Roll, Push, Tug, and Smash.
1-11 Warehouse 6 ZETA It was there again. The moment Hera and Zeta stepped outside that evening, a man in a brown cloak passed by. With him, the sigma Chilling Presence. This time, Berto and Igel got to share the unpalatable shiver. Their entire group paused to take a breather as if the wind had been knocked out of them just from standing still. Is fear truly this powerful a force? ¡°That awful man is still here? I¡¯m shocked he hasn¡¯t left the city yet,¡± Hera said. ¡°During tonight¡¯s prayer, I¡¯m asking for a blessing that he has nothing to do with us or anyone in Balder¡¯s organization.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± said Berto. ¡°Me three,¡± added Igel. ¡°If we all do it, God has to listen.¡± Hera sighed. ¡°Somehow, I doubt he will.¡± They continued onward to their destination. Tonight, Hera left earlier than the usual black cat hours. There were still ¡°ordinary¡± civilians wandering about and ¡°regular¡± shops remaining open, their candlelight reflecting off the simple gray stones. Even with Igel and Berto¡¯s brutish appearances, the four blended in with the evening crowd. Zeta smelled brimstone as they passed by a forge. The grumpy man inside sneered at all of them except Hera, for whom he smiled. She smiled back. ¡°Berto, Igel, how were the sales today?¡± Hera asked. ¡°Dismal,¡± Igel responded. ¡°Even at our fastest pace, it may be days before all those lightning sigs are gone. Nobody seems to be buying much of anything anymore.¡± His statement sent her into distress. Before she voiced her complaints, Hera entered an awkward muttering of commercial terms that even her partners raised eyebrows at. ¡°Relax, Hera,¡± said Zeta. ¡°As long as the usual flow is maintained, you can stay under the spotlight.¡± ¡°The usual flow?¡± ¡°The flow of this city. Of Aspic. The way its people and its streets work. As long as disruptions are subliminal and everything looks well on the surface, Balder won¡¯t notice you. Small, gradual changes are undetectable.¡± ¡°You say that with a lot of confidence for a new arrival,¡± she glared. ¡°You better be right, or I¡¯ll hold you to it.¡± The group peeled around the corner to the docks, this time heading straight for a warehouse in between two Technocrat warehouses. The number 6 painted in bold white on its side. A risky venture for risky behavior, but it was worth it if they put a stop to another branch of Balder Rex¡¯s operations. ¡°The guys who meet here are the Flyers, Zeta, and they are significantly larger than the Lilick Brothers.¡± ¡°Flyers? Do they fly?¡± She facepalmed. ¡°No, but they¡¯ve been involved in every synonym of the word ¡®racketeering.¡¯ I doubt the two of us can take them on alone, but with Igel and Berto, we¡¯ll be more than a match.¡± She gestured for Igel to sneak around the warehouse¡¯s side with Berto, then she started climbing a drain pipe to the roof of the warehouse. No ladder to assist them, he followed. Atop the tin roof, an open skylight thankfully allowed them to peer inside. They were met with an empty space and stacks of dusty, unmarked crates. ¡°We¡¯re a little early, but they¡¯ll be here. They always come here. Wait for Berto and Igel to make the first move.¡± ¡°You¡¯re certain? You do some pretty decent reconnaissance for someone who''s never intended to ¡®take down her rivals¡¯ before the past few nights.¡± ¡°Well, what do you think I do all day, now that I¡¯m involved in my own suicide?¡± Zeta shrugged. ¡°Praying?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to push you through the skylight.¡± She didn¡¯t get the chance considering seven figures walked in the room. From their crouched postures and lightless positioning, Zeta determined they were returning in stealth. After a few minutes, one of them dropped their guard and gestured for the others to do the same. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Nobody¡¯s trailed us! Good job, boys!¡± he called. ¡°Bring it in!¡± The Flyers cheered at their ambiguous success. A few members dragged a massive crate about as tall as the men themselves on a dolly. Zeta wondered what the hell they had to do to hide that thing as they smuggled it. ¡°Let¡¯s see it. I want to see the beauty with my own eyes.¡± ¡°Good lord, how many sigmas did they snatch?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°Did they kill Rex before we even had the chance or something?¡± ¡°Ridiculous,¡± Hera said. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but they say suspense is half the reward. And we¡¯re not killing Rex, you fool.¡± The Flyers spent several minutes trying to pry the crate open. When the sides were loose enough to fall down, they acted as if they were bedazzled in golden flecks. Cooled steam pushed out into the warehouse, revealing a jarring contrast to the entire city of Aspic. A sleek suit and harness, made of smooth plastic and ceramic, rested in a refrigerated outline. Two rings jettisoned from the back, and a lowered helmet rested against the nape. ¡°Technocrat technology?¡± Zeta asked in astonishment. ¡°This is a Technocrat city, technically.¡± ¡°Yes, but¨C¡± ¡°Get ready.¡± ¡°What?¡± Hera whistled at the top of her lungs. Igel punched in a back door and sent it soaring into one of the Flyers, and Berto charged in with the padded parts of his skin shielding his face and torso. ¡°Whoa! What! What the hell are you guys doing here,¡± one of them exclaimed, recognizing the duo as part of Hera¡¯s group. ¡°Now, Zeta!¡± They dropped in from the skylight and used Flyers to break their fall. Three down. Zeta took a rapid sweep of the warehouse. There was not a single sigma, but loads upon loads of Technocrat guns, and an oversized, two ringed piece of metal attire. What the hell do they want with that? Where are the superpowers? Igel bashed in another Flyer¡¯s face. Four down, which left three more enemies remaining. Unfortunately, they all had drawn their swords and surrounded the haul. The rivals glanced at each other, nodded, then made a move for the guns. Within seconds they were all wielding one, except for their apparent leader, whose goal was the strange, refrigerated contraption. Pointed at the immediate threats, Hera and Zeta dodged behind separate warehouse crates as the bullets shredded the wood. The hail of fire nearly tore down their cover before it briefly stopped. The situation clicked in Zeta¡¯s mind, and in a swift series of rolls, he was atop the two Flyers as they reloaded. One went down with a slash to the kneecaps, and Zeta pommeled the other after Hera made him wince with Neural Flash. As the last mobster, the Flyer¡¯s leader put on the ringed metal device around his shoulders and worked some controls on an armpad; the loud roar of fire burst through the warehouse. Within moments, the thug was hovering, flying around in the air like a bird of man. Great, way to stay true to your name. He had heard of this technology before. A Jetpack. It was the last thing he ever expected to see on Axle Island. The Flying Man had an awkward experience maintaining his stability mid-air, and Zeta couldn¡¯t take advantage of that disruption. When the leader understood what he was doing, he grinned with perverse delight. ¡°Burn, you fucking traitors!¡± he said as he raised the right arm of his jetpack. Zeta was exposed, and he froze, lacking any sort of strategy for what to do next. Milliseconds passed, yet he had no answer as the jetpack¡¯s right arm heated with fuel and fire. The leader winced, Zeta saw Hera grip her temple in his peripheral. The Flyer stopped and clutched his head in pain. In a wild leap, Zeta grabbed his leg when the pack lowered. Tripping in the air, the man stumbled and tried to shake the swordsman. Zeta would not let loose, so the man tried to burn him again. Not a chance, according to Hera, he winced, but the flamethrower from his arm misfired, sending a jet of flame towards Igel and Berto, exposed. Igel ducked out of the way, but Berto found that unnecessary. ¡°I¡¯ll stop it!¡± ¡°No Berto! Your padding can¡¯t¨C¡± The sound of crisp cooking, of charred flesh. ¡°Berto!¡± As chaos unfolded behind him, the airborne mystery was left in Zeta¡¯s hands. He didn¡¯t catch a clear glimpse of the event, but he knew what happened. His determination and fury spiked. Finding footing on the cold ground, Zeta exerted with all his might an attempt to stay grounded, tugging on the Flyer¡¯s leg with an even tighter grip. The Flyer tried to burn him, first with the jetpack itself and then the flamethrower. When the arm aimed at him, Zeta cut it with Black Meridian, disabling the addon. His grip on the Flyer was released in the process, and the leader darted for the skylight out of reach. However, the man only considered escape, yet not the route. His body was not large enough to fit both himself and the machine through the skylight. When the fuel tank was clipped by the skylight¡¯s edge, it exploded. Zeta retreated to the shadows as pieces of metal, straw, fuel, and flesh fell where he once stood. Zeta looked at Black Meridian. ¡°And here I thought I might have to chuck you. Seriously, though. Hera? What the hell was that? Where are the sigmas?¡± ¡°Never mind that, Zeta! Berto¡¯s not responding!¡± Oh, right. She stood over him, pumping her hands against her partner¡¯s chest. As if coming out of a daze, Igel eventually joined her. Zeta ran over and examined Berto. The front of his body was seared and blackened. His facial features had been distorted, swollen or plain burned away. He was breathing. Barely. ¡°CPR¡¯s not going to do him any good, Hera. We need to seal those wounds. He needs a doctor.¡± ¡°Zeta, I told you, there¨C¡± ¡°Yes, I know. No doctors, which is a terrible setup, by the way, but we have no choice. We need to get help.¡± With Igel¡¯s assistance, they were careful to move him. Hera plugged the pockets of blood among the burns with some clean strips of her clothes. They abandoned the warehouse and ran for the street in plain sight. An explosion that loud was sure to draw the attention of someone. Maybe we can use that to our advantage. ¡°Help! Help!¡± Hera cried out in desperation. ¡°Someone please help us. He¡¯s been shot! Please!¡± Instantly, they attracted everyone¡¯s attention. Instantly, they were ignored. ¡°Please!¡± ¡°Please, people. Do it from the good of your hearts!¡± Zeta cried. He said to Hera, ¡°I haven¡¯t lost faith in humanity. Don¡¯t lose yours either.¡± No responses. People shuffled along. Windows closed, lights shut off. No voices of sympathy heard. Just as quickly as the morning crowd emerges at sunrise did it disappear, leaving their group alone in the terrors of the night. Hera let go of Berto and started running down the streets, tears welling in her eyes. ¡°Please! Someone! Someone with medical training, help him! Help him, please!¡± Part of Berto¡¯s weight collapsed on Zeta, and he looked over to see Igel stumbling too. ¡°Where¡­where are they? Why isn¡¯t anyone helping? Ber¨CBerto¡­¡± Igel quivered. ¡°Please, someone! Someone help!¡± Zeta started shaking. Surely there had to be someone willing to assist them. No city, no matter how awful, could ever be that terrible, right? ¡°I haven¡¯t lost faith. Come on, someone please help this man!¡± But no voices came. No people rushed out into the dark with kits of medicine. Not a soul. No, no this isn¡¯t right. Zeta felt powerless. Truly powerless. He trembled at the realization that there was no method to heal this man. He wanted a Healing sigma or even traditional practices in his hands right at that moment. Perhaps none of those existed in Aspic either. At the same time that realization dawned, the weight of Berto slipped off his shoulder, and he and Igel barely managed to catch his fall. ¡°Ber¡­Berto?¡± Igel asked. In the distance, Hera¡¯s voice, filled with despair, rang loud, pure and hollow. Zeta touched Berto¡¯s neck. There was no pulse, and enough blood now slathered Zeta¡¯s fingers to stain his palms crimson.
Chilling Presence - Fear, Dormant: Forcefully sends shivers down the spines of all those who come within the user''s presence. (300)
  • (A) Force of will.
  • Affects those within a 10 m radius.
  • Chills are sustained as long as targets are within the radius. As soon as they exit the radius, the effect is drastically eliminated.
  • Is meant solely to be an intimidation factor, the user should wary of social consequences
1-12 Charms and Omens ZETA Outside the city, atop the handpicked hill, the scenery emerged from a fairytale. Bright, colorful, abundant with fields of flowers condensing into mounds of rural homes. A horizon of crystallized blue seawater to meet the sky. A gray cloud raining invisible grief. The choice wasn¡¯t original. Other headstones dotted the area, likely originating from the wastes of scenarios similar to last night. Zeta recommended a spot against a tree, so Berto had shade in the summer sun. ¡°Dead still feel the day¡¯s heat,¡± he said. A quote from Sir Kagan. It was funny. Last night, the people of Aspic were overwhelmingly helpful in acquiring a body bag, and this morning their corpse cart came for free. Unlike a doctor, when it came to death, there was no hesitation. As they rolled the cart out of the city, Zeta watched a mother and daughter pass by. The girl tripped and scraped her knee terribly, little streaks of blood trickling down the leg. The mother didn¡¯t fret, however. She merely kneeled next to her daughter; a golden light shone from her finger as she wiped it across the gash. When they returned to their routine a second later, it had already sealed. How wonderful it was to know that such medicine was so readily available. Stop it. Spite won¡¯t bring the dead to life. As the morning critters fulfilled their cries of dawn, Igel and Hera stood over the buried bag set softly in the pit, portions of the tree¡¯s roots surrounding the body. Zeta had done all the digging, a fact which he was content with given their distraught states. He gave them an hour, and that hour was nothing but silence. Midway through, Igel left, disappearing into the crowds of Aspic. Hera remained a statue of skin and bones. Zeta wrote off any words from her, however, when he stuck his shovel in the dirt to fill up the grave, Hera asked, ¡°Did you take them?¡± Zeta looked at her. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Berto¡¯s sigmas. Sigmas exit the body immediately upon death, scattering on the ground. I never saw them yesterday.¡± She narrowed her eyes. ¡°Did you steal them?¡± ¡°An accusation of theft? Now? That¡¯s low, Hera. I thought you had a higher opinion of me.¡± ¡°You said you wanted to collect as many as you can. That¡¯s your apparent goal,¡± Hera said with toxicity. None of that was true, that wasn''t his goal at all, but that¡¯s when Zeta realized she wasn¡¯t speaking from her soul but from emotional distress. The sudden resurgence of hostility made sense. Zeta reached into his back pockets and retrieved a cluster of Natural Padding sigmas. ¡°You mean these? Yes, I took them. You can have them if you want.¡± He dropped them all into Berto¡¯s grave. ¡°I planned to bury them with him. In my opinion, no one should reap a reward from Berto¡¯s death. The sigmas die with him.¡± Hera stared at the sigmas in the burial. Flashes of temptation and despair crossed her eyes. ¡°You can have them if you feel you deserve them, Hera, but make your decision before I seal the grave.¡± ¡°No. I want nothing to do with them,¡± Hera said, turning on a heel to leave. ¡°Where are you going?¡± Zeta asked. Hera reached up and supposedly wiped a tear from her eye, a lump still caught in her voice. ¡°Back to Warehouse 6. Regardless of the loss, there are unfinished questions. I¡¯ll save the breaking down for later.¡± She couldn¡¯t see him, but Zeta nodded. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll join you soon.¡± Halfway down the hill, she stopped. An eerie shaking triggered from her shoulders and up. The wind carried her near-silent words, ¡°How about a lesson? I think it¡¯s one you need to learn.¡± Hera turned around, every muscle in her face contracted and spasmed as she struggled to conceal tears. She failed. ¡°We call it Divinity. We call it Prayer, but you should be aware of how empty those words are. We say them because we have no other terms. We call it an ¡®attunement with God,¡¯ because we know nothing about the origins of sigmas. None of it is real. ¡°We know of Hell¡¯s existence because of the demons that come through portals to terrorize us, but we can say no such thing of ¡®heaven.¡¯ There is no God, Zeta, just a giant scam.¡± As she walked away, Zeta stuck the shovel into the pile of dirt next to him and started pouring it back into the grave. He made sure the soil slipped off the shovel softly, like gentle pellets, so as not to hurt Berto¡¯s soul in the afterlife. He had no idea what to make of her statement. HERA Even with her ¡®brave display,¡¯ Hera found it difficult to keep her mind objective, focused on the enemy and their operations. Now she found herself returning to the scene of the crime as if she personally asked the Devil for more torment. That was the issue with being a Mind focus. Mess with the brain enough, even if it¡¯s your own; eventually, you¡¯ll find it scattered. Arriving at Warehouse 6, the bold white number on its side prepared a psychological disturbance of premium proportion. Hera shook it off, refusing to let such a trivial thing as a number traumatize her. The damages to the building remained, although invisible to those who were not looking. Stray shots punctured through the wall, and the skylight was burned from the explosion. Little bits of ash were illuminated from interior soot.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Inside, however, there was no sign of anything. No bodies, no weapons, not even inconspicuous crates. The warehouse was bare. Hera ran to the center, beneath the skylight, searching for the remnants of the Flyers and for the bloodstains Berto had left behind. Alas, she only found scorch marks nearly scrubbed clean. It didn¡¯t make any sense. Sure, maybe the Flyers woke up and ran, but all of this cleanup in the course of a night? An awful thought occurred to her. Have they gone to Balder? A cold voice resonated out of every scrap of metal in the walls. ¡°The Harpy of Aspic,¡± it said. ¡°It¡¯s strange seeing you here and well.¡± Hera recognized it instantly, but to hear it put her person on high alert. She faced a scrawny individual with short, thinning hair atop a rough scalp and forehead. He leaned his oversized scythe against the wall, a trophy, apparently, from some Death focus group in the Selatin Kingdom, or at least that¡¯s what he always bragged about. Her heart pounded so fiercely the warehouse walls vibrated to its tune. The Curved Storm. ¡°Terrent.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you still remember me. It¡¯s only been a few weeks since you still paid Mr. Rex¡¯s cut with that cute face in tow, but we¡¯ve missed your wry smile.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t. I forgot about her existence. Don¡¯t lump me in with the likes of you,¡± came a voice from above. Sitting in the skylight, with his feet against one end and his back against another to hold himself up, was the Ghost Gun, Marc Crue. How was that comfortable? Unless it was an intimidation tactic¡­ ¡°That¡¯s rude, Marc.¡± ¡°But it¡¯s true.¡± ¡°You¡¯re¡­both here?¡± Hera started shaking. Her fists clenched with apprehension and she raised them to fight. ¡°Whoa! Calm down Harpy,¡± Terrent said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what has you on edge, but we¡¯re not here to kill you.¡± ¡°Just cut to the chase, Gust. Your hideous face makes all woman cry, even the ones that know you. It¡¯s a face a mother can shy away from,¡± said Marc. ¡°Ouch! Fine then.¡± Terrent reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, ovule bead no bigger than a beetle. A thick silk lace attached to it. ¡°You know the Flyers? Some competitors of yours. Turns out they used this warehouse as a base only¨Cit recently underwent some frankly unpleasant renovation.¡± ¡°To put the fool¡¯s terms simply, someone attacked,¡± said Crue. ¡°I think that¡¯s obvious, Marc. Anyway, all the men got up and fled the city. We tracked them down and killed them this morning for insubordination, but that detail is irrelevant. The leader got offed here, and given its unsightly nature we disposed of it properly and cleaned the place to make it visually appealing. ¡°All we need is a motive and a perpetrator, but that can wait. Our original mission was to find you anyway, assuming you haven¡¯t left Aspic. We were off to that cozy abode of yours.¡± ¡°Why were you guys going to my home?¡± Hera asked, her voice cracking. ¡°To give you this.¡± Terrent reached into his pocket and chucked a small, ovule bead at her, white-gold in color. She barely managed to catch it without a fumble. As soon as it landed in her hand, her blood burst with energy. It was as if a dozen adrenaline rushes exploded at the same time while she injected pure caffeine into her system. ¡°What is this!¡± she exclaimed, gasping heavily. ¡°Like it, do you? That, dear Harpy, is an Ora Charm.¡± ¡°An Ora¨C¡± She recognized the name. ¡°As in¨C¡± ¡°Yes, the very same. Various expeditions found one of his lost vaults in the Western Shelf. The Charms are spreading throughout the Sigma World like wildfire. Crue¡¯s foreign friends told him about it, so we got a head start on imports. To put it simply, you¡¯ll be praying a lot less each night, Hera. If at all.¡± ¡°What? Why? What do they do?¡± ¡°You felt that pure power, right? An Ora Charm is a Divinity accumulator, constantly accruing Divinity as long as it¡¯s worn on your person. It doesn¡¯t matter what you¡¯re doing. It doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re praying. You will be getting your Divinity.¡± Hera couldn¡¯t believe what she was hearing. Such a concept would change all she knew about sigmas. ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± ¡°Except it¡¯s not,¡± said Terrent. ¡°Hera¨Cdo you mind if I call you that? A New Era is here for the Sigma World. You felt it the second that Charm touched your hand, right? The time for ¡®sigma focuses¡¯ and all the other limitations on our power has passed. No more wasting time to ¡®earn¡¯ the Divinity to progress. The charms open the passageway to new possibilities.¡± ¡°Possibilities? Terrent, these charms will spark a global arms race!¡± ¡°Indeed, which brings us to here and now.¡± He started pacing around the warehouse, examining things that weren¡¯t even there. ¡°We heard that you ¡®recruited¡¯ a new member to your group. We would¡¯ve liked to hear of this beforehand, but we learned of it unofficially, so we¡¯ll assume you would¡¯ve told us at a later date. Anyway, Harpy, the Lion hears this new addition is strong, which is promising given our future.¡± ¡°Our¡­future?¡± He nodded. ¡°As I said, Crue¡¯s contacts gave us an early bid at the Ora Charms. They will spread like wildfire, but before then, we will have already secured spots at the top of the world. Such are the blessings of having the first pick of ripe crops. ¡°Mr. Rex has grown ambitious. He wants to ascend the ladders of the Sigma World, and he wants to take us with him. There are many¡­branches of this organization that will have to be clipped and forsaken. It¡¯s partially why we killed the Flyers in flight, pun intended. Yours is not one of those branches, Harpy.¡± Terrent reached into his pocket and pulled out a second Ora Charm. ¡°Let¡¯s see, with the new addition, your group has¡­four, right?¡± Hera gulped, and her mood sulked. ¡°No. Three now. Berto¡­left a few hours ago.¡± Terrent raised an eyebrow. ¡°Really? He just up and walked out?¡± ¡°Maybe we scared him that night,¡± said Marc. ¡°That¡¯s right. We spoke with Berto the other day. It¡¯s strange. He didn¡¯t display any indication of leaving.¡± Terrent pondered for a second, then he smiled. ¡°Hera, you ruthless bitch! You cut your weak links, didn¡¯t you!¡± he said it as if it were a compliment. ¡°Stupid Berto,¡± he continued. ¡°There isn¡¯t a new addition at all, is there, but a replacement.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it like that,¡± she snapped. ¡°All you need to know is that we¡¯re down to three.¡± How dare you speak ill of the dead you repugnant asshole. Hera''s own thoughts stunned her. Ever since she was little, Hera vowed never to cuss in thought or speech to keep herself pure. Although, in retrospect, that wasn¡¯t really her choice¡­ ¡°Whatever, then. The replacement sounds superior anyway. Give this to him, will you? Mr. Rex invites both of you to climb to the top of the world with him.¡± He tossed the second Ora Charm to her, but this time there was no rush of energy. That meant that the Divinity Boosts cannot be stacked. ¡°Does it have to be him? Can I not give it to Igel?¡± she asked. Terrent shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s your crew, but that sounds like a waste. If you ask me, consider cutting another weak link. You¡¯ll feel the lighter burden, trust me.¡± Hera wanted to punch him. She wanted to assail his arrogant face with unleashed rage, but Marc would stop her before a second blow if the first one even landed. Repression was more painful than pain itself. Terrent analyzed the floor of the warehouse again. ¡°When we cleaned the place out, the Flyers weren¡¯t even smuggling sigmas anymore, can you believe that? They moved on to guns, not that I¡¯d consider that a step up. Ironically, they also had a jetpack from the Technocracy, sigma-powered, but not a sigma. Oh, the wonders of modern technology! ¡°The lesson here, Hera, is that they moved on because they caught wind of the changing times as well. Probably planned to break off from Mr. Rex and take their own stabs at ascendance, not that it worked out for them. Someone got to them first. Good riddance.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to know anything about that, do you Harpy?¡± Marc asked. Quickly, she shook her head. Then she worried if she denied it too fast. Terrent shrugged. ¡°Well, whether the killers are friend or foe we may never know. Either way, we didn¡¯t need the Flyers. We don¡¯t need many of the smugglers in Aspic anymore. Take that into consideration, Hera. The Lion sees you as a diamond in the rough.¡± Marc dropped down from the skylight. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve spent enough time here. Let¡¯s leave.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Terrent agreed. ¡°See you later, Harpy.¡± The way he departed screamed his malevolent identity for all the city to hear.
Analyzing the two Charms in her palms, Hera couldn¡¯t help but wonder if Terrent had placed her in an elaborate setup. Sure, he and Marc were not forensic scientists, but they did spend a significant amount of time at the warehouse. Had they left evidence behind? Would these charms blow of her hands when she was asleep? Would her head be bits of brain if she wore it around her neck as intended by the silk lace? She bumped into a stocky build with a black sword. ¡°Hey, are you all right, Hera?¡± Zeta asked. She had forgotten he planned to follow her. ¡°Oh, um, yes. I¡¯m all right. The warehouse was cleared out, strangely enough.¡± He didn¡¯t need to know about Terrent or Marc. She feared he would set them in his sights. The difference in their scores was a mathematical fact that he would die. ¡°What are those?¡± he asked, pointing to the beads. She fabricated a lie within seconds. ¡°Oh, I¡¯ve meant to give this to you for a while. It¡¯s¡­also necessary for building Divinity. It¡¯s an Ora Charm.¡± Zeta¡¯s eyes widened, but there was no smile to accompany it. ¡°An¡­Ora Charm? As in¨C¡± ¡°Yes, as in the legendary scientist, Magnus Ora. I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m a huge fan.¡± Within moments, Hera became an old woman, reflecting on the past eighty years from the present. She envisioned herself writing of her regrets, and claiming to be a fan of Magnus Ora was the title of the book. Zeta¡¯s eyes narrowed, and his composure darkened. ¡°I see.¡± He reached for his sword and clipped off the bangs of her hair in one violent, indiscriminate swing.
Healing Seal - Healing: User can speed up and assist the body at closing gashes or other sources of bleeding. (15).
  • (A) Pose two fingers over the wound.
  • The user must move hand along the full length of the wound to seal it completely.
  • Only forces the skin to tighten and connect, clotting the blood to start healing.
    • Healing Seal won''t work if the wound is too big.
  • Requires slow motion when healing wounds.
1-13 Taboo HERA The slice came so fast that Hera didn¡¯t hear the wind cut through the air until she saw snippets of her hair on the ground. A moment later, she found herself on her rear. A former ally stood over her, emitting pure menace. She dropped the Ora Charms, and Zeta kicked them away. The disorder caught the attention of the entire street. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you!¡± Hera yelled. ¡°That name,¡± he said, ¡°you¡¯re a fan?¡± She gulped with pure terror, which she realized she had done a lot recently. At the rate she was going, she¡¯d swallow the entire emotion by next week. The following words came out meekly. ¡°Are you not?¡± His body was so tense it might have solidified given time. Zeta sheathed his sword and turned away. ¡°That¡¯s the end of the rope. I¡¯ve had enough. I¡¯m done with you, and I¡¯m done with Aspic. I¡¯m not sure if this city can be healed.¡± Then she received a gift mailed four days late. Zeta was walking away. He was leaving, permanently. The anger in his voice was genuine; this was no joke. In a moment, he would turn the corner. He would be gone. That¡¯s what she wanted on day one. Before he vanished, Hera leaped to her feet, slammed him with Neural Flash, ran up and pushed him into the alley. Zeta reached for Black Meridian, and she knew, in this case, he might strike her with it. ¡°Wait! Stop!¡± she cried out. He halted just as the edge of the blade froze hairs away from her throat. She wondered if he would have completed the cut had she said nothing. ¡°What!¡± he yelled. ¡°I lied! I¡¯m sorry, I lied! I wasn¡¯t sure how you were going to react if I told you the truth, yet I didn¡¯t expect that reaction either.¡± Zeta backed off, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. ¡°You lied? Hera, why would you lie to me at this stage? It¡¯s bad for business.¡± He tensed, analyzing the gleam off the jagged edge of his sword, ¡°and bad for human decency too.¡± ¡°To protect both of us.¡± ¡°That¡¯s vague. You know what? Never mind.¡± He started for the street again and picked up the displaced Ora Charms. ¡°Then why do you have such vile things?¡± Hera took a deep breath. She needed to ready both herself and her partner, so the world didn¡¯t explode. ¡°Balder Rex made me an offer.¡± She went through the gist of what Terrent and Marc had told her, all without mentioning the sources themselves. She still didn¡¯t want Zeta pursuing them. ¡°A Divinity booster?¡± Zeta handed Hera the Ora Charms. ¡°Hera, I¡¯m sorry for snapping like that earlier, and just so you know, no I would not have killed you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good to hear¡­¡± ¡°You can make use of these things if you want, but I want absolutely nothing to do with them.¡± ¡°Zeta, if what my sources say is true, then you need these. If you want to be an alpha beast in the changing Sigma World, this will help. They may make your goal realistic.¡± ¡°No, if they were made by Magnus Ora, I¡¯d rather burn them all.¡± ¡°Why! Okay, if you want to ignore the charms, fine, but tell me why¨C¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Zeta raised his voice. ¡°Because Magnus Ora was an abhorrent, depraved creature who nearly annihilated the beauty of mankind! Anything and everything about his name and legacy should be considered repugnant, a blight on humanity!¡± Once again, the attention of the people of Aspic was drawn. Zeta received the most mixed of glares. People shaking their head and spitting in his direction, eyes lowered and narrow. There were some who nodded in secret, keeping their approval away from the visible eyes of others. ¡°That¡¯s¡­strong,¡± Hera said. There may be plenty who hate Magnus Ora, but Hera had never seen such disdain to Zeta¡¯s pure resentment. ¡°I did say I¡¯m not a fan, right?¡± ¡°Hera,¡± Zeta began, ¡°I may not know much about the Sigma World, but on the subject of Magnus Ora, I am a degree short of a scholar. He discovered and distributed a majority of the world¡¯s Magnum grade sigmas, the highest tier.¡± ¡°That¡¯s correct.¡± ¡°Somewhere in that pursuit, however, Ora became obsessed with something known as the ¡®World Sigma.¡¯ On this subject, I am familiar as well. As the name suggests, it¡¯s a sigma with the potential to affect the entire planet with one activation.¡± ¡°Zeta, the World Sigma is only theoretical.¡± ¡°Regardless if it exists or not, Magnus Ora destroyed so many lives to find it, and then the bastard just up and disappears from the world. And the public has the gall to assume that just because of his advancements in our understanding of sigmas, it excuses his later atrocities.¡± Zeta winced at his own words. ¡°No, the masters are not to blame,¡± he whispered to himself. ¡°That¡¯s because the public doesn¡¯t understand the full situation,¡± Hera said, ¡°No one really does, that¡¯s why it¡¯s such an issue.¡± ¡°Sir Kagan gave me the full story. In summation, he was not a hero.¡± ¡°Well, don¡¯t go preaching at every abbey, Zeta. If that¡¯s your conclusion, fine, I couldn¡¯t care less. But many people revere him as potently as you revile him. If you want to be this ¡®Servant of Humanity,¡¯ you need to put aside that belief and focus on your work.¡± She presented the Ora Charm again. ¡°This is part of your work, you know.¡± Zeta sneered at the charm. ¡°Does it even function as you described? For all you know, that¡¯s snake oil.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you feel the surge of Divinity when you touched it?¡± ¡°That little rush of coursing power? Yes, but that doesn¡¯t mean anything. If you want me to use that excrement, test it thoroughly. Build a case so convincing that even I cannot refuse.¡± Hera scoffed. ¡°With your stubbornness? No thanks, I don¡¯t care that much. Have it your way. You¡¯ll just be behind everyone else from now on.¡± He scowled. ¡°Says who? What are your sources, anyway.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­not important. You¡¯ll meet them in time. I can¡¯t introduce you yet. They¡¯re the secretive type.¡± From the look on Zeta¡¯s face, Hera decided the next book she¡¯d ever purchase would be How To Persuade Someone And Not Look Like A Complete Idiot. ¡°Hera, you went to the warehouse and back. Who did you meet there?¡± ¡°She met me,¡± came a thickly accented voice from down the street. Zeta and Hera turned on their heels to meet a character whose face was obscured by an oversized fedora. He pointed a finger gun at Zeta and yanked it upwards in recoil. ¡°Impossible Shot.¡± The bang of a gunshot pierced the midday air. ***ZETA*** He felt it again. The piercing pain of a hole in his body. Except his body had not adapted. This was not Neural Fighter. The pain didn¡¯t subside after a second, it lingered indefinitely. Zeta reached for his side and felt the warm red liquid spilling out, then he collapsed to his knee in agony. ¡°Marc!¡± Hera called to the stranger. ¡°Harpy,¡± said this Marc, whoever he was, ¡°forgive my bluntness, but you really need to work on who you bring into the Lion¡¯s family.¡± ¡°Hera,¡± Zeta said, coughing, ¡°who is he?¡± ¡°Marc Crue. They call me the Ghost Gun; you just learned why.¡± The streets were already cleared. It was odd. For once, Zeta witnessed the people of Aspic in an actual panic the instant they spotted the assailant. Whoever he was, his name was known. ¡°Marc, why did you shoot him!¡± Hera cried. He looked at her like it was a stupid question. ¡°Funny story. After Gust and I left, I got an itching curiosity to meet this new recruit of yours. I trailed you, my apologies, and was pleased to see he was made of tough stuff. So imagine my surprise when he nearly chopped your head off. Especially after you gave him such a nice gift too.¡± He turned to Zeta. ¡°We cannot have loose cannons in our ascendance.¡± ¡°It¡­it was a misunderstanding!¡± Hera pleaded. ¡°He didn¡¯t mean to do it, the name just set him off.¡± ¡°Oh, I know, Harpy,¡± said Marc. ¡°When the blade was at your throat, I was ready to blow his head off right then and there, but I waited to see how things turned out. I wanted to learn more about you, Zeta was it?¡± ¡°You¡­eavesdropped?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a specialty of mine,¡± he said, turning to Zeta. ¡°You might have a good physical stock, kid, but your mind is utterly haywire. Rabid dogs should be put down.¡± He raised his other hand, formed into a finger gun, and shot Zeta again. ¡°Stop it!¡± Hera pleaded. ¡°Why do you care, Harpy?¡± he asked. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you have sympathy for him. If you do, that¡¯s embarrassing. Where¡¯s your pride?¡± ¡°I need him!¡± ¡°Do you?¡± ¡°Yes!¡± ¡°Hera¡­stop,¡± Zeta said, standing up. The two gunshot wounds burned as he moved, each flinch burrowing them deeper into the skin. ¡°You don¡¯t need to beg on my behalf. I can see it in this man¡¯s face, he isn¡¯t going to listen to you.¡± Zeta faced Marc with a grin on his face. ¡°You there. From the sounds of it, you must be some big shot under Balder Rex. That¡¯s some sigma you have there.¡± Marc smirked. ¡°Impossible Shot. As it implies, I can shoot small arms ballistics from my fingers. I¡¯m a gunslinger with unlimited ammo and therefore a cut above the rest.¡± Zeta looked at the back of Marc¡¯s belt. There was a rectangular sheath with a square-tip machete. ¡°A gunslinger yet all you wield is a sword. Ironic.¡± He started laughing. ¡°I see that glamorous, black blade at your side. What? You want to challenge me to a duel? News flash, kid, the gun beats the sword. Has been ever since some Technocrat married Sulfur and Charcoal under the oath of Saltpeter.¡± ¡°Heh. Well, I was hoping you¡¯d have the decency to fight blade to blade, but no matter,¡± Zeta said as he drew Black Meridian. ¡°An imbalanced battle is fine with me.¡± ¡°Zeta! No!¡± Hera cried. ¡°Not in your condition! He will kill you.¡± ¡°Listen to the Harpy, Zeta. You¡¯re outmatched. I read your sigma score. One point, really?¡± Zeta smirked. ¡°Yeah, really. Don¡¯t worry, that¡¯s soon to change. After this, my new score will just be yours. Plus one.¡±
Liver Cleanse - Life: User forcefully removes the depressive characteristics of alcohol in their system, making them harmlessly sober once more. (28).
  • (A) No pose required. Sigma will respond to a variety of slurred VC''s to accommodate for the user most likely being drunk at the time.
  • Will emit a green, gaseous aura as an indication that the sigma worked as expected.
  • (!) Although the neurological effects of Liver Cleanse are cleared, the alcohol in the body is not. Drinking more than the body should be able to handle will more than likely result in a complete shutdown.
    • Please use Liver Cleanse when you are done drinking for that sitting.
1-14 Zeta vs. Marc Crue ZETA ¡°What the hell is wrong with you!¡± Hera said with utter loathing. ¡°Are you some kind of magnet to death?¡± ¡°Hera, listen to me. This conflict is necessary. He seems insistent on only killing me, so let this be a test of will and might. If I die, take it as a sign of what should be done next.¡± Zeta met her gaze with cold, stony eyes. ¡°If I die, give up. We both failed.¡± Hera struggled to retort. There needed to be something she could say, but no words came to mind. Zeta took that as a concession. ¡°Get out of here, Harpy,¡± said Marc, ¡°unless you¡¯d rather pick a side?¡± Her head twisted back and forth, seeking resolution as if somehow her stalling could delay the conflict. There was no such opportunity. Slowly, she shuffled out of harm¡¯s way. Marc stared him down. The thin line of shadow beneath his eyes a reticle for a menacing gaze. ¡°While your philosophy is concerning, psychotic even, I like your spirit. You don¡¯t see many people with a grin as wide as yours as they run to Hell¡¯s gate.¡± ¡°What makes you think I¡¯m going to hell?¡± Zeta asked. Marc raised a finger gun, pointed for the bridge of Zeta¡¯s nose. He spoke of an idea Hera planted in Zeta that very morning. ¡°Where else? There is no heaven.¡± Zeta sidestepped out of the way to avoid the first flurry of shots. He jumped into the alleys as the bullets whizzed behind him. To someone normal, this fight would be impossibly out of their league, but Zeta ensured he had confidence in himself. I just have to use my brain. He noticed the alley and concocted a plan, launching himself into its dark depths. Marc walked to the alley¡¯s end, where the shadowed edges reached the tips of his boots. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. This is the best trap you came up with?¡± Out of Marc¡¯s sight, Zeta scaled the building in absence of a ladder or stairwell, scrambling up each and every foothold he could find. Normally such a climb wouldn¡¯t be arduous, but he had to hold his breath and tense his movements so as not to make any sound. The bullet wounds stung his torso as he moved, but he shrugged off the pain. Unfortunately, one of his footholds was a rusted iron rail. As soon as he applied pressure, it tore off and rang against every solid object it touched in its fall. Zeta clamored up the rest of the building as he heard Marc¡¯s footsteps sprinting down the alley, attracted to the sound. He rolled onto the roof just as bullets clipped away at the stone edge. Marc scoffed. ¡°Range is my specialty, but height is no problem for either.¡± He grabbed the machete at the back of his belt and held it in front of him. ¡°Dual Wield.¡± A line split the machete along the edge of the blade, and Marc pulled an identical copy of the weapon into his off hand. He plunged them both into the stone wall and used them as picks to climb. Zeta watched by barely peeking over the edge. ¡°What a miserable way to treat a weapon! The sword is my territory!¡± ¡°Who said I was using the machetes?¡± As Marc neared the top, Zeta planned to cut him down. However, Marc went flying upwards into the air, using the machetes as propellants for leverage. As he landed, his fingers were raised again, and a dozen more shots had been fired by the time he touched the roof. Zeta rolled out of the way with ease, but then he saw Marc charging at him, wasting no moment to seek opportunity. With both machetes, Marc stretched his arms outward, swiping with vicious blows. Zeta had his chance to fight back. I will not lose to anyone in a swordfight! Black Meridian didn¡¯t let him down either. With chops and cuts and slices of the machetes inbound, the sword moved with tremendous versatility. Marc aimed for every angle with his twin blades, testing every combo of swings. What should have been random mayhem became child¡¯s play as Zeta telegraphed every single strike. Black Meridian centered him in a shield of air; all he had to do was move his muscles. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Occasionally, Marc would try a more regular attack instead of his chaotic flurry. He¡¯d intercede his assault with a pronounced jab, overhead, or a mighty swipe from either side that even stunned Black Meridian, but only for a beat. One issue on Zeta¡¯s behalf, however, was that he struggled to redirect the role of the offensive fighter. He excelled at blocking, but blocking is all he could do. Neither fighter was interested in a battle of attrition. Just as Zeta managed to get in a solid swing, Marc backed away, dodging to the other end of the rooftop. He pushed the two machetes back together. In a slice of light, they were one once again. In one hand, Marc had the machete. His other, posed for Impossible Shot. He¡¯s switching up his style. The Ghost Gun charged at him again, and they resumed battle. Now Zeta¡¯s mind was tested by an insane exam. There was only one sword to worry about, but if he weren¡¯t careful the other hand would puncture him with a bullet of air. He¡¯d fire shots through armpits, around the waist. Over the back of his shoulder as he twirled and sliced with his sword. Even so, Zeta scraped by with his counters. What he didn¡¯t see, however, was Marc¡¯s kick. It landed right in the center of his gut and sent him flying¡­and flying. Flying further then he should have. Oh, that¡¯s cause I¡¯m falling off the building. He plunged Black Meridian into the side of the building, and it cut through the structure, bringing him to a grinding halt just steps away from the cobbled pavement. Marc reached over the edge and fired more shots. Zeta swung himself back and forth on the sword¡¯s hilt to avoid them. Finally, he pulled Black Meridian out and stood on the street, right back where he started. Impossible Shots fell on the ground like rain as he ran for cover. Unfortunately, all in sight were alleys and doors, and all were in Marc¡¯s line of sight. Zeta jumped back and forth, side to side, ducking away, leaning front and back in an attempt to avoid the hailing fire. Quite a few bullets grazed him. He was essentially dancing to the music of death. ¡°Come down here and fight on equal turf!¡± Zeta called out. ¡°Not interested,¡± Marc replied, popping off another shot. ¡°Damn it.¡± Zeta glanced at a nearby shop, its door locked. Sir Kagan, forgive me. Sprinting for the entrance, he cut down the door in one swing. The wind of bullets passed his rear as he entered. He ran through a couple rooms, then stopped dead in his tracks as he encountered a family of three, huddled in pale horror. The father pointed a broom at him, jabbing the air as if it would make him go away. ¡°My apologies. Is there a back door?¡± Shaking, the father pointed. Zeta hopped over tables and chairs to reach the exit. He entered a cluttered, abandoned plaza of grass that reminded him of when he was initially assaulted by Hera and her partners. Broken trees, trash, and stonework covered in overgrowth infested the scene. Many clotheslines hung in the area, along with troughs and other peasant accessories. In the corner, a cart of laundry covered in flies. The whole place smelled awful, but the root of the stench came from there. Well, it was better than standing in the open. MARC CRUE, the Ghost Gun Marc took his time climbing down the building. This Zeta character was bound to re-emerge soon. After all, he had his pride to save. To teach him a lesson, Marc wanted to steal that away. Oh, his life too. The Harpy tried to stop him at the street level. She ran in front of him and begged, ¡°Please, Marc! If he needs to go, let me be the one to get rid of him.¡± This woman couldn¡¯t be serious. ¡°Sorry, Harpy. I can¡¯t let this transgression slide. He wanted a battle, and with both our heads at stake I will honor it.¡± ¡°He¡­he doesn¡¯t understand anything! He¡¯s overzealous, brash, and overall ignorant when it comes to the nuances of the Sigma World. Should he deserve to die if he can¡¯t comprehend why?¡± Marc sighed. ¡°Regardless of what he knows about sigmas, you, me, or anyone else in our damn organization, he should¡¯ve known about Aspic. He should¡¯ve known how things work here.¡± ¡°And I¡¯ve been trying to teach him. He¡¯s a slow learner. Please don¡¯t do this!¡± She gripped his arm, but Marc shoved it off. ¡°Have some self-respect, Harpy. I¡¯m doing this for you.¡± That wasn¡¯t necessarily true, but she was growing annoying. When she shut up, he marched to the toppled door. There was a family inside. They were already distraught and probably encountered Zeta earlier. ¡°Did you see a¨C¡± he started. The father was already pointing to the back door. Marc flipped him a coin. ¡°Good man. Have a Nibble.¡± The plot out back was the nastiest yard Marc had seen in months. He may have traversed every nook and cranny in Aspic these past years, but this area was by far the worst. Of course, the cocky ballsack ran here. There were so many opportunities for ambush; Marc could spot Zeta¡¯s game. Like hell he¡¯d fall for this. A shadow moved in the center of the yard, and instantly Marc sent a series of Impossible Shots its direction. The target jolted, but a second later the figure was obscured by a miniature tornado flying Marc¡¯s way. What the fuck! The tornado tore up everything in the yard, broke the windows and doors of the nearby buildings, and sent Marc flying to the other side. Just as quickly as it touched down, it disappeared. ¡°A little jumpy, aren¡¯t we?¡± came the voice of Marc¡¯s irritating associate. ¡°First, you shoot up the street. Next, you try to shoot me. Are you feeling alright?¡± ¡°Gust. What the hell are you doing here?¡± The Curved Storm emerged from the shadows, a fresh smile on his face after ripping up the lot. ¡°It¡¯s not every day that you hear the news that the Ghost Gun is wreaking havoc, especially since a quarter of Aspic is already in lockdown. Mind telling me if you¡¯ve lost your mind?¡± ¡°Go away, Gust. I¡¯m in the middle of something.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m disrupting you disrupting business for Mr. Rex and I. Crue, give me one good reason to off you, and I will not hesitate to do so here and now.¡± How frustrating. ¡°Ugh. Did you see a swordsman run through here? Black sword? Black hair?¡± ¡°Maybe I did. Maybe I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood for games, Gust. He challenged me, so I have to kill him.¡± ¡°And just who is this individual?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the Harpy¡¯s ¡®new addition.¡¯ The kid¡¯s a psychopath. When I came to meet him, he nearly lopped off her head. Now we¡¯re supposed to be dueling, but the coward ran.¡± ¡°Probably because you didn¡¯t fight fair,¡± Terrent said. He faced the vacant environment, raising his voice. ¡°If you can hear me, challenger, I understand your dilemma! Crue sucks, doesn¡¯t he?¡± ¡°Ass. Will you help me find the cunt or not?¡± ¡°You said it yourself, Crue, this is your fight. Although, I don¡¯t understand why you care that much. So what he tried to kill the Harpy? If not him, then us. We know she¡¯s behind several client disappearances. God knows what else she¡¯d do if left astray.¡± ¡°Shh! Don¡¯t say that aloud, he might still be around.¡± ¡°And that won¡¯t be a problem, because you¡¯ll kill him, right? Get to it.¡± Terrent took his scythe, faced the ground, and started spinning it. ¡°Windspin Tower.¡± Another tornado formed beneath him, lifting him in the air without moving anything else. Terrent stepped off and sat at the edge of the roof. ¡°I want to watch.¡± Marc scoffed. ¡°There won¡¯t be much to see. I¡¯m finishing this.¡± ¡°No, you won¡¯t!¡± cried another voice. Bursting out of the nastiest pile of laundry in the whole lot, black sword extended and shining with violence, Zeta slashed with a blinding light. Marc gripped his face, where suddenly the heat of pain appeared. When he removed his hand, a thick red substance slathered his fingers.
Impossible Shot - Arcane, Offense: User can fire an intangible pellet from their finger with the same severity as a regular firearm. (640).
  • (A) Make a finger gun. Using either the index or the index and the middle finger is sufficient.
  • Sigma use is ambidextrous.
  • To shoot, the user should cock their finger gun backward. This fires a single shot.
    • A skilled marksman can speed this process up if they can move their hands quickly.
1-15 Against a Ghost Gun ZETA Marc Crue faced him with a scathing gaze, his buccal gash dripping into a miniature waterfall of red. Such rage did not intimidate Zeta, however, and he met that bestial glare with one of his own. Zeta looked up to the new foe sitting atop the roof, legs dangling in the wind and a devilish, twisted grin. ¡°You! I demand to know who you are.¡± The stranger smiled. ¡°You demand? Very well then. Terrent Gust. A pleasure to meet you! They call me the Curved Storm. Here¡¯s why.¡± He held up an oversized scythe. Zeta pointed to Marc and then to him. ¡°After I beat this man, you¡¯re next!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t wait,¡± Gust said dryly. ¡°Are you seriously blowing me off?¡± Marc asked with utter contempt. He fired an Impossible Shot to signify that emotion. ¡°Kid, you¡¯re a deer in this game, and I¡¯m starving for venison.¡± ¡°Then starve. I don¡¯t care,¡± Zeta replied. ¡°But I can¡¯t let you win. Not if you¡¯re going to betray Hera!¡± ¡°Oh, God, not you too,¡± Marc sighed. Zeta continued. ¡°In fact, forget the duel. It¡¯s taking too much time. You, Gust or whatever, come fight me too. I¡¯ll take you both on.¡± ¡°At the same time?¡± Marc said, incredulous. ¡°Did those seconds beneath laundry rip your common sense to shreds?¡± Gust simply shook his head. ¡°No thanks. Unlike my compatriot down there, I actually enjoy one on one fights, especially with blademasters. I¡¯ll wait.¡± ¡°Now you care?¡± Marc asked. ¡°Suit yourself then, I¡¯ll make this quick,¡± Zeta said, facing Marc. ¡°Do you have any more sigmas I haven¡¯t seen? Use them now. I¡¯m curious.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got one more, and you¡¯re not worthy of touching it,¡± he said. ¡°If you say so.¡± Zeta jumped forward on the balls of his feet, practically sliding through the grass towards the Ghost Gun. Marc returned Impossible Shots, but Zeta mastered how to sidestep them. But Marc had also adapted to battling with a blade. The machete was already drawn by the time the two of them were close enough to connect them. Zeta kept his posture low. First, to keep his eyes on the finger gun with greater ease, and second, to push Crue¡¯s machete upward, making an opening for the finishing blow. He also decided that his turn for an offensive flurry was long overdue. Using the same angles as Crue, he struck from every side in a random pattern. Unfortunately, Black Meridian wasn¡¯t as short as the machete. It would be a little slower¨C ¨Cif it had a different owner. Marc strained. His breath grew heavy as Zeta maintained a sustained barrage. The Impossible Shots he did manage to fire off had no sense of aim, rhyme, or reason. They bounced off and bashed against all kinds of environment, from potted plants to plaid curtains. In a bid to relief himself, Marc hopped back so he could aim with more care. But when he looked up, Zeta was gone. He narrowly used to machete to shield his face as Zeta struck downward from the air. Then Zeta used a gambit of his own. Before his feet touched the ground, he reached for the hand that held the machete. He gripped the wrist and twisted, and Marc dropped his weapon. Not wanting to slay the man, Zeta turned his sword to the flat of the blade, swinging it along the length of the arm and towards the neck. With primitive instinct, Marc grabbed the blade barehanded. As blood seeped from his palm, his grip did not loosen. He and Zeta wrestled for Black Meridian, culminating with Marc kicking Zeta in the stomach to make him let go. Zeta got up, furious that Black Meridian had been taken from him. Marc tossed the sword to the side, which angered him even more. Treat that blade with respect. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. ¡°Funny. I tried to break it, but the stubborn blade wouldn¡¯t budge,¡± Marc said. ¡°Reminds me of the owner.¡± ¡°Black Meridian would never succumb to someone like you.¡± ¡°The stupid piece of crap has a name?¡± Marc shook his head. ¡°I can see why Hera hates you. You used the flat of the blade. Do you have any intention of actually killing me, or am I a joke to you?¡± ¡°Kind of.¡± Marc lowered his guns ever so slightly and fired both. Unfortunately for Zeta, Marc now had the distance he desired. Zeta predicted the bullets were pointed at his left foot, so he raised it, but one missed while the another hit his right foot. In distracting agony, he started hopping around on his right leg. ¡°Prance, bird,¡± Marc said, firing shots so close to stimulate the odd movement. It went on for a while, but Zeta had enough. He pushed through the pain and made a grab at Black Meridian. However, Marc saw that coming and fired in his path. As Zeta had his hands on his sword once more, both bullets grazed him. Each successful hit slows me down. I need to end this. A tiny shed was behind him, so Zeta scrambled to his feet, kicked in its door and ran inside for cover. Unfortunately, it was made out of an old, rotting wood, a shield slightly more useful than nothing at all. ¡°You¡¯ve just entered a slaughterhouse!¡± Marc called out. As fast as he could, Marc shot off Impossible Shot after Impossible Shot, ripping the shed to splinters with his bullets. There was only one exit, and Zeta didn¡¯t come out by the time the hut collapsed. Marc was content that it was finally over, but as the last dust piles simmered down on the shed¡¯s wreckage, Zeta burst through. ¡°How about it, Marc? One last bout against your gunsword combo!¡± Marc ignored him and continued shooting. Zeta charged, ducking through each and every shot. Marc picked up the machete next to his feet and readied for another round of close combat. Zeta watched Marc raise the blade, ready to bring it down in anticipation of another flux of attacks. Zeta readied Black Meridian to strike as well. Marc brought his down, expecting Zeta to block, but he didn¡¯t. No, Zeta let the machete burrow into his shoulder to Marc¡¯s perplexed horror. Zeta grinned as he cut his target too. The pain was severe, burning, but the pleasure of success kept him going. While Marc was stunned, Zeta moved for the other digit. Another successful cut. Zeta jumped back and pulled the machete out of his shoulder, which hurt significantly, spilling blood all along his arm and torso. Marc was also spurting blood¡­from his severed index fingers. ¡°What the hell have you done!¡± Marc cried out in agonized terror. Zeta regained his composure. His confidence served as a painkiller for his shoulder, his stomach, and everywhere else with injuries. ¡°A couple days ago, Hera explained to me the basics of sigmas. All except Dormant sigmas require two things to work, the proper pose and voice command. If you can¡¯t perform the pose, you can¡¯t perform the sigma. No more guns for you.¡± ¡°Aaaaaaagggggggghhhhhh!¡± Marc screamed with agonized rage. ¡°Those shots were getting annoying. Losing your index fingers is a small price to pay for me to spare your life. Now get out of here, we both need medical attention. Oh, and hand over your sigmas.¡± ¡°Like hell! After all this, you want to spare me. You wish to humiliate me? That I will not allow!¡± ¡°Then fight me blade to blade,¡± Zeta said with a cough of blood. ¡°If you still have the stamina.¡± Marc grimaced with a raspy whisper. ¡°No need. I don¡¯t need Impossible Shot to kill you.¡± He raised the palm of his hand, where a massive hole opened like machinery. He used his other arm to grip it for recoil. A modification, Zeta realized. Whatever it was, it looked like it came straight out of the Technocracy. Not something Zeta expected to encounter out of a man like Marc. Marc fired one shot from the palm of his to the other side of the plaza, where a massive explosion wiped everything out, scorching the area and blowing open the ground floors of every nearby building. A demonstration. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re worthy of this fiery hell after all!¡± he said in mania. Marc aimed his next shot at Zeta. ¡°Meet my pride and joy, Zeta! Chaos Railgun!¡± Zeta burst forth to stop him, but Marc winced as if he received a brain freeze. A moment later, he blood gust out of his mouth, Black Meridian plunged into his chest. Zeta sighed amidst his panting. ¡°There¡¯s a family of three in the building behind me.¡± He removed the sword and held his opponent upright. Death was never Zeta¡¯s prerogative, but he expected it was an inevitability. When in doubt, go for the heart. It¡¯s the most humane way to take a life for men like you and I. For all his excessive training and complicated methodology, Zeta would never doubt Sir Kagan¡¯s comment on the matter. ¡°Why do we humans struggle with trivial things like pride and honor? I didn¡¯t want to do this, Marc, but your options ran dry,¡± Zeta said. ¡°I hope you find peace with another cause. In another life, should you be permitted one.¡± He let go. Marc spurted blood from his mouth, gagging on it with a clotted throat. The suffering stopped soon after, and he slumped to the ground. The thrill of victory soon wore off, so Zeta kneeled to manage his pain. Above him, he heard clapping. ¡°That was amazing!¡± Terrent Gust declared. ¡°Absolutely astonishing display! The Ghost Gun, completely and utterly beaten. I never thought the day of his death would come.¡± Zeta pointed Black Meridian at him. ¡°You¡¯re next. Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Oh, no, no, no, no,¡± said Gust. ¡°Not a chance. Look at yourself. There¡¯s my answer. If you want to fight me, fight me with your organs intact. Actually, it¡¯s best if you don¡¯t at all. I may have enjoyed the spectacle, but the Lion definitely will not. Neither will many of our associates. You really need to leave Aspic if you value your life.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°I¡¯m not finished here.¡± ¡°Now, now. Stubbornness is brave and all, but let¡¯s think rationally. Personally, I¡¯d say I¡¯m stronger than Crue, and you barely beat him. I actually wield a blade, the same as you, so you¡¯ll get a run for your money.¡± Zeta nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right, so I¡¯ll just be stronger then.¡± He looked down at Marc¡¯s body, where four sigmas were lying. Impossible Shot. Dual Wield. Chaos Railgun and another, but Zeta couldn¡¯t read what it said. Regardless, he picked them all up. ¡°I overheard you say that you had been itching to fight Marc Crue. You were ready to do so on a moment¡¯s notice.¡± ¡°Yes, and its a shame that dream is lost,¡± said Gust. ¡°Not to fear. I¡¯ll find another.¡± Zeta shook his head, gripping tightly to the unknown sigma. ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± He squeezed and crushed the sigma, then he pointed at Gust. ¡°You¡¯ll have your fight with Crue. Fight me instead. I¡¯ll master his sigmas by tomorrow.¡± Gust stood up, grinning widely. ¡°So you¡¯ll be able to replicate a fight with the gunslinger? No, dear friend, you are wrong, such a fight would not be a replication.¡± Leering at Crue¡¯s dead body, his smile widened until the edges of his gums were visible. ¡°With your skills, it will be so much better!¡± Gust used his towering tornado to lower himself back to the ground, then he started leaving the plaza. ¡°You have my attention! Tomorrow it is, then! Don¡¯t worry about a place to meet up. Trust me, I¡¯ll find you.¡± The Curved Storm said something else as he exited, but Zeta didn¡¯t get to hear it. The pain became too unbearable, and he passed out.
Chaos Railgun - Devastation: A blaster is embedded within the skin and bone of the user''s forearm. Can fire moderate explosions from the palm of the hand. (5320).
  • (A) Point and shoot with an open palm.
  • A blast takes between three to five seconds to fire.
  • Explosions consume a radius of approximately 10 meters. Fireballs do not ascend very high.
  • Consumes portions of the user''s energy. Not recommended for overuse in a single setting.
1-16 Chance ZETA ¡°Hera, I think you reopened a wound,¡± Zeta groaned. In her rant-tantrum, she had repeatedly slammed his chest. ¡°Good! More pain might wisen you up before tomorrow. Not that we have much of a lifespan anyway. Thanks for that.¡± She pulled the bandage tight, constricting him to cough up some blood. Zeta paused for a moment to recollect the events from earlier. Having just awakened, his memory before falling unconscious was foggy. ¡°Oh, right, I defeated someone high tier in Balder¡¯s crew. You saw that?¡± ¡°Yes, I saw that! I also saw you challenge Terrent Gust immediately after as well. Do you have any sense at all?¡± ¡°Not with this headache. What¡¯s the matter? I can beat him. Just a little grit and hard work piled onto training, some new sigmas, sleep, and I¡¯ll be good.¡± Hera twitched. ¡°Oh, so you think you have time? Well, here¡¯s a fun fact.¡± She opened the curtains of the downstairs bedroom. ¡°It''s nighttime!¡± ¡°Really? I swear I was only out for a few minutes. I must have lost track of time.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve completely upset our plans. Now Rex is going to bring the house down on top of us!¡± Hera trembled with anxiety, peeking out the window wide-eyed as if a missile might blast through at any moment. Zeta sighed. ¡°Hera, it never mattered. They¡¯ve known about the Lilick Brothers and the Flyers and everything else. There was no intention to ¡®save¡¯ us or whatever they told you.¡± ¡°A part of me already suspected that,¡± said Hera. Her eyes sagged from exhaustion as she made her paranoid rounds. ¡°I¡¯ll admit to stooping in a pool of denial, but I was at least hoping to accelerate the process before Rex made his move.¡± ¡°Heh. For once you were the fool,¡± Zeta smirked. Mild laughter strained his lungs and concocted a coughing fit. ¡°Not in a million years. I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re trusting Terrent to honor a duel. I guarantee the first thing he did was tattle to Rex about Marc¡¯s death. If you or I walk the streets tomorrow, there¡¯s a good chance we¡¯ll die.¡± ¡°Are you sure? Gust seemed pretty excited to fight. So am I.¡± ¡°Any spiel he gave you about a fair fight is a damn ruse, Zeta! The Curved Storm is the antagonist to a fair battle. Why do you think I¡¯m watching every entrance like a hawk? For your sake! He¡¯s probably chasing after us with an army of thugs as we speak.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Zeta whispered. ¡°But that¡¯s a wager I¡¯m willing to take. If you admit to denial, I¡¯ll admit to making rash decisions while pumped with adrenaline. But the past is the past, and I have to accept the consequences. That¡¯s what Sir Kagan would have said.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± Hera reached into her Pocket Inventory and pulled out another Standard grade sigma. ¡°Here¡¯s your reward, the two-point Read Sigma. Now you can actually see all the details of a sigma before you employ it.¡± ¡°Thanks. Now I have a score of 3.¡± Hera shook her head. ¡°503. You employed some kind of Elementary sigma in your boast against Terrent. I didn¡¯t get to see what it was.¡± ¡°Well, how can I see it?¡± ¡°A standard sigma, Display Sigma, would tell you. I¡¯d give it to you, but as I recall, you want them all as rewards,¡± she said mockingly. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to change your mind?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Zeta said confidently. ¡°That being said, I did earn some sigmas from the Ghost Gun that I¡¯m eager to try out!¡± Hera turned to him and scowled. ¡°You don¡¯t think things through, do you? You never do. You have one night, no sleep, to gather the Divinity to actually use all those sigmas. I counted them. With prayer alone, Impossible Shot is 64 hours, and Dual Wield is about 12. You would need a month. Exclude the Chaos Railgun modification and its four days plus whatever it was you picked up. ¡°It¡¯s not possible without an Ora Charm. Not to mention you need to train with them and¨C God, you¡¯re so stupid for getting us into this.¡± Us? Hera didn¡¯t even realize she said it, yet those words were more profound as Zeta received them. Hmm¡­ ¡°I¡¯ll find a way,¡± he said. She slammed the windowsill. ¡°Enough! Just shut up with your damn idealism! Being headstrong means nothing if your skull is as flat as a board. You don¡¯t have the horns to rush into things like this. Aspic. Balder Rex. The entire damn Sigma World is a pit of vipers, and you have no antibodies for their venom!¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Marc Crue¡¯s sigmas lay on the nightstand, within reach. Zeta forced himself out of bed and picked them up. ¡°Don''t you dare! I patched you up, but your internal organs could still be all over the place health-wise. Not to mention the blood loss¨C¡± ¡°Hera,¡± Zeta said softly. ¡°I¡¯ve wasted too much time lying around. If what you say is true, I can¡¯t waste a second.¡± Her face twisted into crimson fury. She reached back and punched him right in the cheekbone. Even if he anticipated Neural Fighter, he hadn¡¯t prepared for so much force. ¡°Do you want to know why you¡¯re alive, Zeta? It¡¯s because I picked a side! Marc said to stay out of the fight or choose my loyalty. I chose yours! Did you see it when you fought Marc Crue? Terrent didn¡¯t see me, but I used Neural Flash shortly before you cut off his fingers. Did you know that?¡± He remembered how Marc winced as Zeta rushed at him. His aim had been off, which lead to several critical misses. ¡°You scraped by against his Ghost Gun, but you haven¡¯t, you can¡¯t become stronger in the time before you fight again. Terrent Gust is an entirely different maelstrom.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m saying it¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t handle,¡± he stated. ¡°Listen to me, Zeta! I¡¯ve been in this group much, much longer than you have. I know these people and how they work. Even if Terrent is willing to ¡®honor¡¯ his promise, he¡¯ll start your duel the moment the sun climbs over the sea.¡± ¡°Are you suggesting we run?¡± ¡°Yes! I¡­I¡¯ll find Igel, and we can all flee Aspic! Let¡¯s go to that place you came from, Greenwich, for a month or two, then we can find a way off Axle entirely.¡± Zeta turned around, grabbed Dual Wield and Impossible Shot, and employed them simultaneously. Hera mentioned something about a ¡®queue,¡¯ a Divinity limited specifically designed to prevent against multiple employments. Where others saw a barrier, Zeta saw a motivating incentive. He¡¯d either receive all the powers at once or face Gust with none. Zeta smiled. ¡°I¡¯m pleased that I¡¯m included in your escape plans. You¡¯ve moved on from ostracizing me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m more than happy to reconsider if that¡¯s what you wish,¡± she barked. ¡°My purpose here has evolved. It doesn¡¯t matter if I run, Balder Rex aspires to threaten the world, and he¡¯s just one of many. Running does little good if they have or will have the power to catch us. I need to stop them now, to eliminate the disease before its incurable.¡± Zeta kneeled before a small bronze statue at the foot of the bed and began praying. Hera didn¡¯t speak for a moment, then a bead pelted Zeta in the head. ¡°At least take that. I know you despise Mag¨C the creator, but if you want to be deluded, at least try.¡± ¡°No.¡± He blindly lobbed the Ora Charm out the window. With a huff, she marched out of the room and upstairs, feet stamping around with titanic force. With his eyes closed, the night did little more than settle silence on the ears. The distant bustle of Aspic played like a tranquil tune. The occasional ray of starlight illuminated a deep red behind his eyelids. Not once did his mind actually drift to wishes and questions for God. Instead, his erratic mind concerned itself with staying awake and devising a strategy against the incoming cyclones. He heard Hera wander in and out of his room, probably checking to make sure he was still alive. She kept opening and shutting the windows and creeping around the house suspicious of possible assassins. It was strangely hilarious. He didn¡¯t doubt Hera¨Cshe had proven herself capable numerous times¨Cbut what was she to do if there were an assassin lurking about? In the end, whether or not he lived or died, he could not just tell her, ¡®thank you.¡¯ The amount of appreciation he had for every accommodation she made in his name thus far was too abundant for such a familiar gesture of gratitude to be satisfactory. Eventually, he climbed out the window and retrieved the displaced Ora Charm. When he returned to prayer, he kept it on his person. Don¡¯t get any wrong ideas in hell, you bastard. HERA After spending endless, repetitive hours staring through the same five windows for a scythe-wielding assailant to protect the world¡¯s most senseless tool, the last thing Hera wanted to see said tool missing at dawn. She burst out to the streets of Aspic, hair unkempt, clothes wrinkled and dirty from the past day and trailing with a stench of insomnia. She didn¡¯t care about all the strange looks she attracted from the superficial samaritans that called themselves her neighbors. ¡°Zeta! Zeta!¡± she yelled down each and every alley and lane. No response. Her heart dropped and shattered. She considered asking the people, but they were already staring at her like a loon. Plus, she had not forgiven them for their consistent uselessness. Eventually, she crossed in front of the brothel she used for heists. A gunshot rang in front of her, smashing into the wall and stopping her in her tracks. ¡°Oh no!¡± ¡°Another rampage?¡± ¡°He¡¯s back! The Ghost Gun¡¯s back!¡± The people flooded away from the scene. Hera snapped to the brothel and saw a shadow sitting in a chair out front. Her chair. His finger gun was smoking. His familiar grin pierced the darkness. ¡°I did it,¡± Zeta said. ¡°It took some sacrifices, but I pulled it off. I practiced. I forced the sigma to be easy to master.¡± Hera strode near him. ¡°Read,¡± she said to analyze him. Her eyes widened. ¡°You¡­succeeded? But that¡¯s not possible. Impossible Shot should have taken three days and¨C¡± He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small bead. Hera could not believe what he held of his own free will. ¡°I told you, I sacrificed some pride. I realize that it was a selfish excuse for my ignorance. There¡¯s a greater situation at stake, I know that now. I stand by what I think needs to be done, and I have no reason to lose.¡± Zeta held the Ora Charm close to his face and continued. ¡°I¡¯ll keep it, but I have no intention to rely on it unless I absolutely must. This might be better. I¡¯ll crush Magnus Ora¡¯s legacy with his own devices. Poetic justice.¡± A part of Hera felt relief, but that part was smaller than she imagined it would be. More of her wanted to cry of guilt. She possessed no comprehension of what drives this stranger to do what he does. She knew nothing about him, yet she assumed she knew everything. Had she pressured him into an unforgivable sin by his own code? Hera examined the area. ¡°Have you seen him yet?¡± ¡°No, but he¡¯s coming. I can sense it in the city.¡± With that confirmation, she resumed the routine of an obsessive lookout. ¡°Hera, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here,¡± Zeta said. ¡°The truth is, even if I have the sigma ready, I am not ready for this fight.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a little late to realize that, Zeta,¡± she said. ¡°I know.¡± All of a sudden, Hera felt a pull go through her hair, smooth and straight, untangling all the minor curls and knots. Zeta combed out all the impurities and patted down the stray strands. ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°Gust might be disappointed, but I¡¯m choosing to believe you. I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll fight fair, so why should we?¡± ¡°We?¡± Zeta gave her the comb. ¡°The future will have many individuals more worthy of a duel. Now, more than ever, I want assistance if it will be offered.¡± She looked at him, stunned. ¡°You want me to fight with you?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re willing,¡± he said. ¡°You already crippled Crue for me, and that was with a single attack. Gust can¡¯t handle the two of us.¡± He smiled. There he went again, spouting optimistic naivety. Yet, he regretted nothing. Hera could see it in his eyes. Regardless of the outcome, irrespective of what he knew might happen or what he might have to do, there was no indication of stepping away. Hera pondered for a moment. Zeta didn¡¯t know the Curved Storm, she did. She hoped he wasn¡¯t overestimating their chances. But¡­ If it¡¯s up to chance, there is a winning value. She imagined the dozens of methods she could use to tear that image down.
Dual Wield - Arcane, Offense: Creates a copy of any currently held small arms weapon for the other hand. (122)
  • (A) Hold weapon in front of oneself with both hands. Yank both hands away in opposite directions after VC.
  • Copied weapon exists indefinitely so long as it is held within the user¡¯s hand.
    • If released, the copied weapon will vanish after a minute or so of disuse.
    • If anyone but the user tries to use the copied weapon, it will vanish.
  • To reform both weapons into one, simply press them together in an identical pose. They will merge.
1-17 Twisted TERRENT GUST, The Curved Storm The enlightening sun constructed a bright and beautiful day for whistling. Terrent accidentally missed his sunrise stroll, but he doubted his challenger was displeased with that. Speaking of the challenger, there were rows of people flooding away from some strange scene around the road. Terrent heard faint rumors of a gunshot. After years of the Lion¡¯s presence here, he expected these people would grow used to these as daily occurrences. The scythe, of course, made the fleeing rabble split like a torn seam as he walked. They imagined death coming with his blade honed and ready. Terrent smiled. He wished the heavens would grant him a role as a reaper the day after he died. That¡¯s an offer he would take in a heartbeat. When the streets emptied, Terrent stumbled upon a small, vacant, brothel. Outside, two figures stood, ready and grim. Terrent ceased whistling. ¡°I¡¯m here! Say, did you cause that chaos passing me by earlier?¡± They replied with nothing. Rude. Terrent turned to Hera, his associate. ¡°Harpy! I¡¯m delighted to see you come all the way to witness this! Truly, you¡¯re a loyal companion. That had to have earned you some gold stars in grade school, right?¡± Silently, she raised her fists, an invitation to battle. Her expression darkened. Terrent sighed and turned to Zeta. ¡°Come on, Zeta, I had so much faith in you. And here even I was willing to honor our agreement. Did you even try to talk her out of this?¡± ¡°I talked her into it,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s even more disappointing. I suppose Harpy concocted some morbid story like ¡®I used to kill my challengers in their sleep¡¯ or something. Whatever she told you was probably true. But even with my mercy, you went and ruined it.¡± Terrent shrugged. ¡°No skin off my back, however. I¡¯ll assume you tattled and the bitch is mad.¡± ¡°There are bigger fish that need to drown. I, no, we don¡¯t have time to waste on you.¡± Terrent looked behind him, in the direction of the Den. The Lion should still be there, making final preparations. He turned back, snickering. ¡°You want to take Mr. Rex down? Good luck. I may be a fish, but I¡¯m not going to be easy to fry.¡± Leaping off one foot, Terrent made his best effort to disappear before their eyes. His scythe reeled in, aimed at Zeta¡¯s shoulder. The black sword deflected it with an immense force. Gust could feel it, the strength of Zeta¡¯s spirit. He grinned at the contemporary glory of this opportunity. Landing on the balls of his feet, Terrent was surprised to glance up and see Zeta¡¯s finger pointed directly at his eyes. Three powerful shots cracked through the air. With a masterful spin of his scythe and some sigma assistance, the Impossible Shots were rendered harmless. He watched them scatter along the ground. ¡°You mastered Marc¡¯s sigmas! And in such a short time too! Most imp¨C¡± Rushing in, Zeta swung for his throat. Terrent leaned back to avoid him. After dodging the black blade once more, Terrent winced as an image of his mother flashed before him. What? That whore. I love her! Subsequent pictures of his childhood disoriented him briefly. That time when his dad brought home new livestock. When Terrent befriended a pony. When he beheaded the pony. Good times, good memories. They led to poor footing as he avoided the swordsman¡¯s subsequent swings. ¡°Ah! Harpy! I forgot you were joining us!¡± He kicked Zeta¡¯s sword arm away as another swipe was inbound. He leaped to a more vulnerable target. Hey, bitch, you did volunteer for this. A flash of fright crossed Hera¡¯s face even though she readied herself for combat. Terrent brought the scythe down right in front of her. Since it missed, Hera began making those jabs at the nervous system she was so fond of. It¡¯s a shame she¡¯s so predictable. He yanked his scythe out of the paved cobble, twirled, and swung for her neck. She ducked, but the ends of her hairs were harvested like tiny black stalks of corn.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Terrent was at least satisfied with a close call. It meant his skills had not deteriorated. Patter, patter, patter. Like a scurrying rodent, Zeta made just enough noise running up behind him that Terrent was able to deflect a surprise incoming blow. He pushed the black sword down and jabbed Zeta with the blunt tip of the scythe¡¯s shaft, bruising the chest. Terrent slashed up, hoping to leave a gash in the chest. Alas, there was only a graze to the ribcage. Stuck between them, Terrent spun the scythe above him and tilted forward and back, endangering them if they dared to come within his proximity. He concluded this cycle with a slash at Zeta, who backstepped in time. Dragging the scythe through the ground, he blinded Hera by tossing up dirt into her eyes. He raised his blade for the kill. Zeta blocked it in an upward position, and now the interference was growing tiresome. This is why he wanted an actual duel today. Granted, Terrent didn¡¯t want to quite yet. It had only just begun, after all. He dueled with Zeta for a few moments longer. As Hera recovered from the blinding dust, Terrent pointed his scythe at the ground and twirled it circular. ¡°Windspin Tower.¡± The resulting tornado pushed them both back a bit. As he landed on a nearby rooftop, Hera¡¯s Neural Flash smacked his mind again. ¡°Agh! You know, Harpy, if I wanted to see some old memories, I¡¯d call a therapist,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll be glad to know I have a license!¡± she yelled. ¡°Here! Reminisce!¡± She tried to slam him with more memories multiple times, but with Terrent anticipating them they just became a rosy overlay on reality. Well, rosy was a kind way to put it. Terrent preferred ¡®spoiled and bittersweet.¡¯ Apparently, Zeta was scaling the building beneath him, barehanded no less. What impressive fortitude. ¡°Well, hello there!¡± Terrent called. ¡°How¡¯s your climb?¡± An Impossible Shot skimmed Terrent¡¯s ear and his heart spiked. He may be their superior, but those loud noises still made him jolt. ¡°You know, I have Automatic Bullet Block as well.¡± ¡°What do you mean as well?¡± Zeta asked as he climbed another foothold. ¡°Well, that¡¯s what Crue had. I saw you employ it after his death. Did you not read the sigma?¡± ¡°So that¡¯s what that was?¡± Zeta grunted to himself. He really needs to work on his whispers. ¡°Good lord. I have some advice if you live through this endeavor. Take your time with things. Look at me! I¡¯m relishing every second of an intimate conversation with my enemy.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Zeta said, exerting himself to grapple up to a few more footholds. ¡°Good for you, but I¡­have things¡­to do!¡± Hera timed her Neural Flash to just before Impossible Shot came Terrent¡¯s way. The bullet was hairs away from his chin, but he pulled his scythe and blocked it in time. ¡°What!¡± Zeta exclaimed, losing his grip on the building and falling back to the street. Hera also had an expression of horror. Terrent stood up. ¡°I told you. I have Automatic Bullet Block. It¡¯s Dormant. You can¡¯t shoot me so long as I have my scythe.¡± When the realization dawned on them, Terrent went on laughing. ¡°Oh, man! The look on your faces, ha! Why do you think I wanted to fight the Ghost Gun for so long? It¡¯s that expression. His greatest feats of sigma usage made redundant.¡± Terrent sighed. ¡°It¡¯s a shame though. In Marc¡¯s case, he would have been left helpless and at my mercy, but you are a somewhat competent swordsman, unfortunately. The thrill just isn¡¯t the same.¡± Zeta stood up, unamused and bitter from the fall. ¡°Sorry I¡¯m not to your liking.¡± ¡°Oh, It¡¯s fine! I¡¯m tolerant of poor substitutes, and you are entertaining in your own right.¡± Terrent beamed. ¡°Don¡¯t be ashamed! Be proud! Good for you!¡± None of his mockeries led Zeta to flinch. He gripped the black blade and prepared for another bout. ¡°Oh, no. No more of that,¡± Terrent said. ¡°I¡¯d rather just wreak havoc and watch you chickens dart around like your heads were chopped off. Twister.¡± He opened the palm of his hand, where a little spiral of wind formed. His scythe gleamed. ¡°Although, very soon, a headless chicken might be your reality.¡± He tossed the spiral at them, and the instant it left his hand it expanded into a massive tornado. Zeta and Hera were pulled in, flying in a circle, and the windstorm crashed into the building opposite. After a mere five seconds, the entire area was trashed. Terrent chuckled. ¡°Never fails to let me down.¡± ZETA As he went flying off his feet, Zeta¡¯s mind was solely cluttered with an assortment of curses. A window crashed into him, or maybe he crashed into it. Either way, he was sitting in a pile of ripped cloth and splintered wood on an upper floor, which was now resting on one weak support. He attempted to move, but that support collapsed instantly. The shock shook his body with another quake of pain. Enough of this crap! Zeta jumped out of the debris and back into the street, glaring upwards at the twig-figured scythe-wielder. Terrent Gust¡¯s grin only displayed a disinterested amount of glee. ¡°Is tearing up streets and buildings a daytime hobby for you?¡± Zeta asked. Gust yawned. ¡°Not really. It¡¯s just amusing and easy to pull off. Maybe if I weren¡¯t guaranteed to take down a structure, I wouldn¡¯t be so disappointed.¡± Could he be any more infuriating? ¡°Do you have any regard for the people at all? Use something like that in the country, not an urban area! Better yet, never use it at all!¡± Gust shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s a Devastation type sigma, what can I say? It¡¯s meant to shatter cities.¡± Zeta growled with anger and fired some Impossible Shots. Gust¡¯s scythe deflected them all. ¡°I thought we established that those weren¡¯t going to work?¡± Zeta ignored that fact and continued a barrage. He hoped to develop the same steady suppression that Crue used on him yesterday. They may have been useless, but they gave him some time to think. Just view it as a little more training. Surely he has to have a weakness. He heard some shuffling behind him as Hera pushed herself out of some heavier debris. ¡°Thanks for coming to find me,¡± she said with irritation. ¡°I¡¯m in the middle of something here.¡± She bore witness to his wasted shots. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s working.¡± ¡°Help me, then!¡± Gust pulled away after the next Impossible Shot, avoiding Zeta¡¯s line of sight. ¡°Okay, enough of that! Do you want to see my next party trick or have you got a special one of your own?¡± When they said nothing, Gust hopped over the edge of the roof and quickly used Windspin Tower for a safe descent to the street. ¡°Right. For my next trick, a Summer Fan!¡± He spun his scythe in front of him at rapid speed and sent a wave of spiraling wind to launch them backward. Zeta and Hera slammed into the wall and struggled to part with it. Their legs and arms were locked against the cobblestone by the little hurricane Gust created. Its strength was sporadic. There were intermittent points of lesser force rather than a constant push of indomitable degree. There are multiple activations. Indeed, Terrent had to keep spinning his scythe to create Summer Fan, but that information did little unless they could get out of its span. Before Zeta could concoct a plan, however, Gust gripped the scythe and stopped it, ending the hurricane. They collapsed to their knees to catch their breath. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not even remotely over, rats! It¡¯s time to reverse!¡± he said with a concerningly playful expression. He started spinning the scythe in the opposite direction. He even removed his hands, and it continued spinning independently, hovering in the air. ¡°Turbine!¡± Now Zeta felt a brand new force. An irresistible pull towards the fatal spinning blade.
Twister - Air, Devastation: User spawns a miniature tornado to wreak a small path of havoc. (1310)
  • (A) After VC, let a tiny spiral of wind form in the user¡¯s palm, then toss the spiral in the targeted direction.
  • Tornado will instantly grow to a larger, more suitable size and steer generally along the targeted path.
  • Will wreak the same havoc as a regular tornado scaled down to its size for approximately five seconds. Then it will disappear.
  • (!) Indiscriminate.
1-18 The Fleeting Winds ***HERA*** Even with all the cobble on the road, she found no friction to stand upon. The sense of vertigo that accompanied a sideways fall entrenched itself as one of the most heartwrenching experiences in Hera¡¯s memory. With her body plummeting rapidly towards the twirling scythe, Hera screamed. She could see the pieces of trash and rubble sucked into the spinning blade and emerging as clean, smaller shreds. The image of her body as ground beef did not curb her utter panic. Zeta zipped past and plunged his sword into the ground, tearing up the street. Coming to a grinding halt, he managed to stop the pull of Terrent¡¯s Turbine. Hera flew directly at him, and he extended a hand which she managed to catch. Flapping like a flag, she tugged on his arm with all her strength. ¡°Thank you! Thank you! Please, for the love of God, do not let go!¡± she pleaded. Zeta¡¯s face was strained in a grimace. His veins bulged as his legs dug into the street and his arm gripped tightly to the stone-stuck sword. It shifted. ¡°That¡­may not be¡­my choice!¡± ¡°Zeta, if you let go, I will haunt you through Hell and back!¡± While she held on for dear life, Zeta was also tugging on her arm as well. He tried to bring her hand to Black Meridian. More leverage perhaps. The wind was so damn powerful. They could hear Terrent¡¯s voice through the air. From where he was standing behind the Turbine, the worst he probably felt was a gentle breeze. ¡°Are you both having fun? Don¡¯t spend too much time on the playground, kids! You might get hurt, or worse.¡± With one of her hands on the sword, Zeta could use both arms to grip Black Meridian. He pushed it further into the ground for a better anchor. Hera meanwhile, reached around his chest and clung like a tight vest. It probably hurt to hold on for both of them, but as of now, Hera valued her own life above all else. Selflessness can be damned. I¡¯ll apologize later. Terrent yawned. ¡°Do you plan on doing anything? I have no intention to shut down the Turbine, and this desperate struggle of yours is growing stale.¡± They said nothing. ¡°Oh, I know! Let¡¯s set the mood!¡± He reached both arms to the sky. ¡°Falling Rain.¡± The clouds grayed all over Aspic, and soon enough they were shedding tears. Hera had heard it before. As the name implied, Falling Rain merely summoned a rainstorm, harmless in and of itself, perfect for arid farmers. With winds blowing their way, the raindrops were pin sized lacerations. Zeta and Hera shielded their eyes, but blind perseverance only loosened their grip. The dirt beneath their feet moistened into a mud. Dampened clothes grew tight and uncomfortable. Zeta¡¯s sword started to shake as it¡¯s anchorage was questioned. It started slicing through the softened ground like butter, sliding towards the Turbine. ¡°No! No!¡± Hera cried. ¡°Stop! Stop!¡± ¡°Now this is more like it. Lives a slip away from being extinguished!¡± declared Terrent. ¡°Hera, I can¡¯t keep mistreating Black Meridian like this!¡± Zeta said. ¡°The blade is tough, but not invincible!¡± ¡°You cannot seriously be worried about the sword right now! Our lives are at stake!¡± ¡°Maybe not,¡± he said. In a flash, he tore his sword out of the ground, turned his body around and fired Impossible Shot at the exposed Terrent. Perplexed, Terrent ducked to the side and grabbed his scythe to block Zeta¡¯s follow-ups. Doing so ended the Turbine. Hera fell flat on her stomach and slid through the mud from momentum. Great. She sat up and watched Zeta use his own physics to soar directly at Terrent, sword poised for lethal precision. Even though Terrent blocked the strike, Zeta came in with such great force that it knocked him over. As the dust cleared, Zeta fired Impossible Shot after Impossible Shot, shooting with a ferocity that made Terrent backstep even in the vainest attempts, backstep towards her. When Terrent was close enough, she rolled out of the mud and charged at him, poking him in the back of rib cage. ¡°Agh!¡± Even without Neural Fighter, that one would have hurt. Even as the attacker, she winced. With that opening, Zeta¡¯s next shot pierced through Terrent¡¯s shoulder. Terrent swung the scythe behind him to get away, grazing Hera¡¯s cheek.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Clever one, you two,¡± he groaned. ¡°Harpy, you really live up to your name.¡± Zeta crept up behind him, sword raised for a high slash. Terrent turned around and locked the sword in place with the scythe. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind playing dirty, you won¡¯t mind me evening the odds. After all, two opponents require two blades.¡± He pulled away from Zeta and held his scythe out in front of him. ¡°Dual Scythe:Pinwheel Formation.¡± At the other end of the shaft, another curved blade protruded, pointing opposite of the original. Zeta started shooting again, but two blades deflected all shots with ease. Even if Hera tried to get close, Terrent swung her way and still maintained a defense against Zeta¡¯s sustained fire. Terrent pulled back and kept them both at bay. ¡°Want to see a cool trick? I learned that with two blades, this wind is stronger.¡± He held up the scythe. ¡°Summer Fan.¡± The tunneling hurricane dawned upon them instantaneously, launching them quite a way down the street. There was no hint of resistance. By the time they were standing, Terrent was merely a speck in Hera¡¯s field of vision. Terrent cried from down the street. ¡°Turbine!¡± Even as their position, the pull of the wind swiped them off their feet and rapidly towards the spinning blades. Zeta couldn¡¯t plunge his sword in the ground, and there was nothing to stagger the impact. In a desperate bid, Hera used Neural Flash and braced for a gruesome death. ¡°Dual Wield!¡± Zeta cried, splitting Black Meridian into two. As he reached the makeshift grinder, he spun and blocked both ends of the scythe simultaneously. Such a block was enough for both of to pass through the Turbine unharmed, sliding against the ground yonder in a burning skid. It hurt like hell to land that way, but at least they were alive. Terrent was stunned. ¡°Damn. I didn¡¯t expect that.¡± ***ZETA*** Zeta had enough of Gust at this point. As soon as physics allowed him, he rushed towards Gust, who picked up his dropped double-bladed scythe. ¡°I guess I shouldn¡¯t be surprised, master swordsman,¡± Gust grinned. With two swords in hand, Zeta barraged Gust with an unrelenting fury of blows. All the while he observed for the tips of the scythes. The curved nature of the blades might nick him vitally around the bend of his sword. ¡°Ingenuitive. Perceptive. Precise. Were you not a man and a foe I¡¯d make you my bride you loveable goat!¡± Gust kept spinning the scythe like a motor. Above, to the side, even below. Thankfully, Zeta saw the strikes incoming, but they weren¡¯t pleasant to defend against. Sir Kagan used a scythe in a training session once. For all his skills, Zeta¡¯s master was still a flawed man. He cut a classmate¡¯s arm in a demonstration, as the curved nature of the scythe was deceptively effective. They didn¡¯t speak with their master for a week after that, but Zeta could hear sorrowful sobs and the stray whiffs of alcohol. Midway through the clash, Zeta tossed the copy of his sword aside, letting it dissipate into nothingness as the sigma stated. He swapped that hand for Impossible Shot and adopted the late Marc Crue¡¯s style. Gust managed to stay unharmed, but the intermittent invisible bullet coupled with Zeta¡¯s attacks put him on the defensive. Eventually, Zeta was just pelting him from a distance. ¡°Bullets again? Have you learned nothing?¡± he asked. ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t,¡± said Hera. She snuck up behind Gust and jabbed his backside repeatedly. The pain must have been so great that Gust dropped his guard entirely, allowing the next wave of Impossible Shots to pierce his body. Gust dropped his scythe and rolled out of the way. The second blade dissipated. ¡°Ah. You have no remorse, dear Harpy,¡± he said. ¡°You might have two scythes, but that doesn¡¯t equate to beating two opponents,¡± she said. ¡°Not even you can track two determined minds, Terrent.¡± ¡°I suppose not,¡± he said, opening his hand. ¡°Twister.¡± While they dived out of the way of the wrath of nature, Gust retrieved his sword and raised it like a hammer about to strike a nail. Zeta glanced up to witness the sun gleam off the point before the scythe came crashing down with maximum force. It would have struck Zeta¡¯s arm, but a wince from Neural Flash distorted Gust¡¯s aim. It smacked the ground, sticking the scythe between cobblestones and keeping it firmly entrenched. Zeta rolled away, jumped up, and flung himself around with Black Meridian¡¯s vast reach. Gust grimaced with sweat running down his face, arms and legs as he leaned back, forced to abandon his beloved weapon. Zeta used the scythe as a jumping prop to gain a height advantage over Gust, holding his sword as if to slice the world itself. The shaft of the scythe snapped from his weight, effectively killing the weapon. ¡°Damn you!¡± Gust said as he avoided Zeta¡¯s downward slash. He prepared another Twister but felt a tap on his shoulder. Hera decked him in the cheek, and Gust rocketed into a nearby wall. As the smoke cleared, Gust was covered in blood and now had two fierce opponents charging at his flanks. ***TERRENT GUST*** ¡°This joke isn¡¯t amusing anymore,¡± Terrent said through grated teeth. With his hands, he twisted an invisible valve. ¡°Summer Fan.¡± Both of them went reeling, but neither flew off the ground. Instead, they persisted through the winds. Terrent turned the valve again. ¡°Summer Fan.¡± Their arms were guarding their faces, and their legs were bent to keep them as still as statues. They remained immobile, but that also meant they weren¡¯t going away. Why isn¡¯t this working? ¡°Summer Fan. Summer Fan! SUMMER FAN!¡± Terrent continued to twist the valve, barraging them with tunnels of wind. Despite the strain in their expressions, neither the Harpy nor Zeta were willing to step back an inch. They only grew ever closer. And closer, and closer. Until Terrent was trapped in a corner. Finally, there was no more time for another Summer Fan. Black Meridian slashed at his throat. Terrent raised his hands. ¡°Okay, I surrender,¡± and the blade stopped right in front of his larynx. ¡°You¡­what?¡± ¡°It¡¯s over. That¡¯s all. I¡¯m done. I¡¯m defeated. You win. Move on. Take down the Lion and leave me alone, thank you.¡± Hera gripped his collar and prepared to bash his face in. ¡°After all this, you think you just get to say ¡®good game¡¯ and walk away?¡± ¡°Now, now, let¡¯s not be bullies, Harpy,¡± Terrent said with a flood of nervous sweat. There was an aura of wrath about her. Hera¡¯s grip was so tight his own clothes began to suffocate him to escape her. ¡°I definitely do not want to hear anything about bullying from you of all people.¡± Zeta sheathed his blade and yawned. ¡°Alright, fine. We won¡¯t kill you.¡± Terrent hit the ground with a resounding thud as Hera¡¯s ire immediately flashed to her ally. ¡°Are you out of your mind? You want to spare him?¡± ¡°Yeah. Gust surrendered. We win. We don¡¯t have to kill him,¡± said Zeta. Terrent felt as if he should have been relieved, but Zeta¡¯s indifferent tone made him feel insecure about his fate. With a little push, the noose would be around his neck again. ¡°Okay, in retrospect, let¡¯s pretend I understand the Lilick Brothers. But him? This man is not someone you let walk free.¡± ¡°But he asked for mercy.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean you have to grant it to him!¡± She grew purple from attempting to contain the violence within her. ¡°Let me guess, this ¡®Servant of Humanity¡¯ calling of yours?¡± she said through seething teeth. He nodded proudly, and she swatted him. ¡°You killed Crue, arguably the lesser of two evils, but now you want this man alive? Hypocrite.¡± ¡°I am not a hypocrite, Hera. Marc had his chance, and he blew it, almost literally. Every man, woman, and child deserves a chance to explain themselves regardless of how horrible the crimes they committed, even¡­¡± he trailed off as if he was going to vomit the next words out, ¡°even Magnus Ora.¡± ¡°Yes, yes! This man understands! A fair trial. I deserve one in place of the fair duel, don¡¯t you think?¡± The glares they shot at him made Terrent imagine his head being cut off right there. Speaking was a terrible idea. ¡°The Lilick Brothers seized my opportunity. Marc Crue did not. Terrent Gust most likely will. I¡¯m not letting him off the hook,¡± Zeta said, pointing to the broken scythe. The reminder of that cheap trash¡¯s demise saddened Terrent. ¡°His punishment has already begun, now I just need to finish it.¡± Terrent gulped and twitched. ¡°Finish¡­what, exactly?¡± ¡°Your sigmas. Hand them over.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. A loss in power for the loss of a duel. Truly, you are a man of chivalry¨C¡± ¡°All of them!¡± Terrent returned a blank stare. ¡°Huh?¡±
Turbine - Air: User creates a great deal of rotating wind force that pulls loose targets towards the source. (2455).
  • (A) Requires a Bladed Weapon. The user spins the weapon rapidly in a circle in front of them. When VC is used, the weapon will spin so quickly that it no longer needs to be physically held.
  • All targets not anchored to the ground within range will be pulled towards the Turbine.
    • Ideally, the blade will ¡°shred¡± the targets, although it could be merely used to gain proximity.
  • (!) Indiscriminate.
1-19 Quake ZETA Their bodies carried them a decent distance away from the scene before their minds could process the joy. Hera¡¯s mental dam broke first. ¡°We¡­we won. We won! We beat the Curved Storm! We beat Terrent!¡± ¡°Yeah, we did,¡± Zeta said. Hera was bouncing off the walls. Zeta had never seen her this happy. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it! This must be a dream! No, this isn¡¯t one at all. This is real. This is real!¡± ¡°Hera, did I do the right thing back there?¡± She frowned. ¡°Well, if you left it up to me and me alone, Terrent would be dead. No, I don¡¯t think to spare him was the smartest idea, but it¡¯s effective for the time being.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± She raised a lecturer¡¯s finger. ¡°You cannot lose Divinity, Zeta, even when ejecting a used Sigma. We assume this is because, in most cases, Sigma users only lose sigma when they die, or that¡¯s what we think at least. Worse yet, it doesn¡¯t become Excess, meaning it isn¡¯t subjected to the all or nothing rule. It¡¯s Divinity pending to be refilled with new sigmas the very second Terrent gets his hands on them.¡± ¡°I understand. I only tried to demoralize Gust, however. Even if he acquires 6000 points of sigma once again, what are the odds they¡¯ll be the same sigma? Terrent Gust is still alive, but the Curved Storm is gone.¡± ¡°I guess you have a point,¡± she said. Then she beamed, opening her inventory to ogle at the Decents they robbed from Terrent. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe he¡¯s walking around Aspic with his head lowered in shame. If you asked me a week ago, I¡¯d say such a day was impossible!¡± ¡°That¡¯s because you didn¡¯t know me a week ago.¡± ¡°Shut up and savor the moment.¡± She gripped him by the shoulders. ¡°Zeta, it¡¯s possible! If we beat Gust, maybe we can beat Rex too. It¡¯s very possible.¡± Zeta guarded his stomach, clenching tightly to feel wounds both old and new pulse with pain. Thankfully, Gust only left him with minor scratches and fatigue, a gash or two at worst. ¡°Let¡¯s not be a hurry. Even I¡¯ll admit I¡¯m tired. Lying low is best for now.¡± ¡°No! Seizing this opportunity might be our best chance. If he¡¯s unaware of our combined strength, we can catch Rex off guard! Let¡¯s hurry to his hangout before he learns about Terrent.¡± ¡°Hera, you¡¯re starting to sound as eager as I was yesterday, and I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a good thing.¡± ¡°Have confidence, Zeta! We can win!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been fighting for two days straight and taken a thrashing while at it. Even I know when to rest. We can wait, Balder doesn¡¯t know a thing about what¡¯s happened.¡± She pondered on that for a moment, her face distorted into a conflicted scowl. ¡°Fine. But heal quickly. I don¡¯t want us to lose the thrill of victory before we take Rex down.¡± ¡°That ¡®thrill¡¯ is probably endorphins, but you have a deal.¡± IVAN FOXWELL On the prowl for the Lion of Aspic¡¯s trail, Ivan tailed the hidden bulks of men pocketed away on the route to his destination. They were waiting, watching for the prey and her minion. The wooden abode was quaint, to say the least, but the guards at the door stripped away any sense of comfort the place might have once had. Ivan entered the Harpy¡¯s home and discovered it ransacked to oblivion; he wondered if Gust had thrown a tornado in here. Oh, he couldn''t have, obviously. The upstairs was the exact same as the first floor. The ground and furniture were sinking through the wood. A board snapped, and the dresser crashed onto the base floor. That¡¯s when Ivan decided he needed to be in and out as fast as possible. In a ground floor bedroom, Balder Rex stood over the bed holding a small bronze statue of the Angel of Valeri. ¡°Sir,¡± Ivan introduced himself. Mr. Rex was surely jumpy, and Ivan didn¡¯t need his head taken off my mistake. Rex glanced his way, permitting him only a peripheral while his eyes remained locked onto the statue. ¡°Do you have a report, Ivan?¡± Ivan cleared his throat. ¡°In addition to the passing of the Ghost Gun yesterday afternoon, the Curved Storm is no longer with us as of this morning.¡± ¡°Dead?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°No. He¡¯s been emasculated, in a sense. His scythe is broken, and his sigmas are gone. He is no longer fit to be in your service.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Balder Rex chuckled. He examined the bronze statue from every angle, admiring the glimmer of the sunlight¡¯s reflection. He tossed it to the ground, shattering it underfoot. ¡°The perpetrators?¡± Ivan sighed. He did not want to be present for this. ¡°The Harpy of Aspic and her new companion. Both the Ghost Gun and Curved Storm referred to him as ¡®Zeta.¡¯¡± Rex clenched his fists until the knuckles went milky white. ¡°I thought it would be¡­entertaining to toy with the Harpy as punishment for interfering in my affairs, but this cannot be forgiven. My two strongest men¡­¡± In a fit of rage, he raised his fists and brought them down upon the bed, literally annihilating it into splinters, feathers, and strands of wool. Such was the power of the sigma Smithereens. ¡°Sir, not to step out of line, but you should avoid destroying too much if you still intend to search this home.¡± Rex shook his head. ¡°No need. The bitch is smart enough to not leave her sigmas in the house. The little scrap keeps them all in her Pocket Inventory.¡± ¡°And you mustn¡¯t worry, sir. Neither of them will leave Aspic alive. I can order them to do so immediately if you wish.¡± ¡°You¡¯re damn right that they won¡¯t leave alive.¡± He turned to the broken statue on the ground. Valeri¡¯s head was still intact, so Rex fixed that. ¡°These people, these average sigma users. The days of prayer are past us now. Ora Charms are the future, and I will be ahead in the game.¡± Ivan cleared his throat again. Doing so was essential as Mr. Rex hated stuttering. ¡°May I ask sir, why do you need the Harpy¡¯s sigmas again?¡± Rex smiled. ¡°Ivan, dear Ivan. Don¡¯t you recognize the gift of love?¡± ¡°Of course, sir.¡± ¡°Then what more motivation do I need? I seek a courtship with Lena the Wise, the Pillar of the Mind and one of the most beautiful women in the world,¡± he said poetically. ¡°As you know, Ivan, she is a Mind focus, just like dear Hera here. Hera¡¯s sigmas are my ticket to ride with the Pentagon.¡± My apologies, sir, but you have absolutely no chance, Ivan thought. ¡°Of course, sir. As you wish, I will order the commencement of the manhunt. Do you need anything?¡± Balder Rex looked around the room, checking every nook in cranny as if to identify a flaw. ¡°Some fireworks, perhaps.¡± ¡°Fireworks?¡± ¡°What better way to start a show?¡± he grinned. Ivan was perplexed, but then it dawned on him. Get out! He ran outside. Here? Now? He couldn¡¯t! Why wasn''t he waiting? I just need to get outside! Behind him, Balder Rex dropped to the ground. With his hands firmly on the floor, his deep voice cried, ¡°Quake!¡± Ivan was thrown off balance as he sprinted for the living room. The whole house began to rumble. He tried to stand up, but a loosened support toppled and crippled his knees. He cried out in agony, desperately pulling his body forward, reaching out for one of Rex¡¯s goons to save him. But they were long gone. Outside, out of earshot. Just a little more, that¡¯s all I need to escape. Ivan glanced upward as he heard the cracking of wood and stone. Then the second floor fell down on top of him. ZETA Hera fell over first, and then he lost his balance soon after. A vibration shook their bodies in a resonance of chaos, and a rumble consumed their ears. The streets of Aspic shook with fury. It wasn¡¯t an illusion, as the citizens seemed to notice it too, panic seeping in the crowd¡¯s veins. ¡°Is this the apocalypse?¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°First twisters, now this?¡± ¡°Why is there so much damn noise in this city?¡± ¡°Hera, thoughts?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°No, this can¡¯t be. He wouldn¡¯t¡­¡± Hera muttered, horrified. ¡°Talk to me!¡± She didn¡¯t get the chance. A crack split the road between them, growing like a fluctuating limb of severed space. Zeta stumbled away from Hera, who was doing likewise on the other side. The crack rose and split further, consuming debris, stone, rubble, and even, unfortunately, people and screams. The thundering earthquake did not cease, which made finding suitable friction to stand on a challenge. Zeta climbed to a second-floor balcony, an easier feat with the slanted roads and buildings. ¡°Hera, what¡¯s going on!¡± he called out. She looked at him with eyes of fear. Her words from earlier culminated in unadulterated regret. ¡°It¡¯s Rex! This is Quake, his Grand sigma!¡± ¡°This is Rex?¡± Zeta asked himself. From the vantage point he possessed, he could see quite a deal of Aspic. This street was not an isolated affair. Many roads were being split apart and lifted as if mountains planned to arise from them at any minute. The shaking shattered numerous amounts of fragile amenities from pots to post signs. He acquired a fair idea of where the cracks in the ground were, and one thing he noticed was that they all pointed to one location like branches to the trunk of the chaos. While the origin point was invisible from where he stood, the direction offered him a gutwrenching, likely possibility. Oh, you have to be joking. Zeta scaled down to the street, hopped over the crack in the ground and joined Hera on her side. The rumbling died down to a tiny, tingling vibration. ¡°Hera¨C¡± ¡°I know,¡± she said, swallowing a lump of terror. ¡°He¡¯s at home.¡± She was slowly regressing back to the cautious lamb, one who never raised a hand to her formal superiors. During their fight with Gust, having a partner at his back was an incredible relief. Having an encouraged partner was even better, and he didn¡¯t want to lose that. This reversion needed to stop. ¡°Hera. You said it yourself, we can do it.¡± It took her a pause or two, but she nodded with a nervous smile. ¡°No more rest for you then?¡± Zeta shrugged. ¡°How can I? Balder Rex is begging for trouble to come his way. Plus, he probably destroyed the bed I needed to sleep.¡± Hera hesitated, shook off her nerves with meditative breaths. ¡°Right. No turning back. We accept this task now or never.¡± Zeta smirked. ¡°Is there anything in the house that we should worry about Rex getting his hands on?¡± Hera thought for a moment. ¡°Mrs. Olgue! If she came home¨C¡± ¡°I doubt her luck is that awful, but we¡¯ll keep an eye out. Anything else?¡± Hera shook her head. ¡°Other than trying to send me a message, or maybe ambush us as we went home, I don¡¯t know why he¡¯d visit my house.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s find out. Come on!¡± Zeta started running towards the source of the Quake. The streets were slightly uphill now, which made basic endurance training a peevish annoyance. Once again, Sir Kagan, I can thank you for years of breathing thin air. As they turned the corner, however, a loud cacophony of chaos came from the house¡¯s direction. It wasn¡¯t another earthquake, more like a complete structural collapse. Sure enough, Hera and Zeta caught the tail end of a dust wave coming their way. ¡°What is he doing? Tearing down buildings?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°It sounds like he¡¯s tearing apart the city.¡± ¡°Has he lost his mind?¡± ¡°Help! The Lion¡¯s lost his mind!¡± someone running their way cried out. He was one of Rex¡¯s thugs judging from the clothing, the weapon, and the mannerisms he possessed. The thug ran to a group of his comrades in a panic. Why is he fleeing? ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°What¡¯s all that havoc down there?¡± ¡°Mr. Rex,¡± the thug began, panting, ¡°he¡¯s gone berserk! Everybody¡¯s friend or foe to him, even us! We got to get out of here!¡± ¡°Good God! Are you serious?¡± A cry tore through the air, and a bloodied, hacked body landed several steps away from the group. ¡°Oh, shit! Let¡¯s go!¡± They completely ignored Zeta and Hera as they ran for their lives. Zeta stopped and stared at the corpse, wide-eyed. ¡°Umm, Hera? Do you know what Balder Rex¡¯s focus is?¡± She was taking little, anxious breaths. ¡°Not particularly¡­ If I were to guess. It¡¯s Devastation.¡± Zeta sent a quick prayer to God. Hera said that no one believed in him beyond a superficial level, but he still decided to take the chance. From here on out he would put no doubt in his ability, so this was his last chance to have a second thought. ¡°Devastation. Wonderful.¡± Slowing his pace, Zeta drew Black Meridian. His body was tired, so very tired of battle, yet the hardest thus far stood ahead. No, Zeta. Do not get caught up on this one man. Compared to what you will face in this sad and miserable world, he is a small fry. Treat him as such. ¡°Right, small fry,¡± he told himself, taking his first steps towards the house. He walked until the shadow of an ogre came into view, a giant stone heaved above his head, ready to smash the world to pieces.
Quake - Devastation, Terrestrial: User summons a seismic catastrophe to shake a radius of approximately five kilometers. (23450).
  • (A) Place both hands upon the ground. Ideally place them on a level equal to targeted ground, as higher elevations may weaken the radius.
  • The amount of destruction decreases as it gets closer to the edge of the designated radius.
  • (!) Indiscriminate.
1-20 Balders Playground HERA I''ve resolved myself to fight. I''ve resolved myself to fight. You¡¯re the Harpy, act like it! Despite all her self encouragement, Hera maintained a block¡¯s pace behind Zeta as they crept to her home. She wanted to stray closer, but her body refused to shorten the gap between them. Or was it her mind? Either way, her speed remained stagnant. Often, she paused and made thorough checks around every corner, lamp, alley, and ground floor they passed. A part of her believed Balder Rex might ambush them at any second. She told herself that she was just paranoid and indulging in cowardice. None of it helped. Even with Hera''s attunement to the mind, Hera failed at therapy. Zeta walked firmly towards danger with his sword already drawn. How the hell does he not hesitate? Not once has he flinched! They were almost separated when a massive chunk of rock smashed into a building between them and sent half of its structure crumbling into the street. Boulder was one of the few of Rex¡¯s sigmas she recognized. She was in the dark otherwise. Even so, the sheer destructive power Rex possessed from throwing a rock was a frightening hurdle by itself. She recovered by coughing up the dust, then was promptly quieted by Zeta¡¯s forceful hand. He pulled her into the destroyed building¡¯s shadow of debris. He shushed her to silence her protest. ¡°Someone¡¯s coming up the street.¡± Zeta released her, and she peeked around the corner. Sure enough, the stocky figure of Balder Rex was stomping their way, dragging the body of one of his former henchmen by the skull. She could hear the skull crack as he crushed it and tossed the corpse into the middle of the ruins. ¡°Is it him? This monster?¡± Zeta asked, pressing tightly against the wall. Hera nodded, shaking. ¡°Yes. But this is so unlike him. I don¡¯t know why he is pursuing a rampage.¡± Rex had torn off his shirt, exposing him as a juggernaut, no longer boss of a lucrative criminal organization. Hera caught a glimpse of his face. The way he smiled was the same way he always smiled, which meant that he had not gone insane. This was Balder Rex all right, and he knew exactly what he was doing. Hera wished they did too. ¡°Listen, I know I can be headstrong, so I¡¯ll tell you ahead of time that I¡¯m going out there.¡± ¡°Zeta!¡± ¡°Wait. It¡¯s not as reckless as it sounds. I¡¯m taking your advice,¡± Zeta said. ¡°I¡¯ll search for an opening and end this in one strike. He¡¯s out of control. I don¡¯t want a fight, I want a victory.¡± Hera felt an unwarranted urge to complain. Then she realized he was actually doing the smart thing for once. ¡°Then seize it!¡± she said. Looks like some things I said pierced your dense skull. Slowly, Zeta skulked around the alley and scaled the structure. He disappeared after climbing to the roof. ¡°Make the opportunity count, Zeta,¡± she said in a whisper. He didn¡¯t hear her. In the street, Rex picked up a boulder and juggled it in one hand as if it were hollow and pumped with helium. He analyzed the way he came, searching for a target of some sorts. When he was satisfied with his choice, he lobbed the boulder in that direction, aiming for a destination Hera could not see. Although a few seconds later, she could hear the crashes and screams. Why are you doing this? Rex turned around, examining his vicinity. He raised his arms in an outcry of disappointment. ¡°Seriously? Did you all run? It¡¯s not exciting taking down empty buildings.¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Aspic had not done much for Hera during her half-decade tenure in the city. In fact, it had hurt her in the most recent days. That did not mean she wanted to see the town torn apart. Regardless of its people and the apathy they displayed, this was her home. With every slight move Balder Rex made, Hera used a great deal of strength to seal away the flourishing rage inside her. Every vivid, angry thought pulsed in her brain and struggled not to slip out of her mouth in a stream of scorn. Finish this quickly, Zeta. Or I will. She did not have telepathy, but Zeta responded to her mental cue. As Balder strolled to the center of the street, Zeta leaped from the building with his sword pointed at Balder¡¯s nape. The plan was crude, but she understood. Their options were limited. His fall was silent, a perfect assassination. Then Rex turned around, gripped the incoming sword by the blade, tugged and smashed both it and its owner into the pavement. ¡°There you are.¡± His hands did not bleed when he released the black steel blade. Zeta rolled to his feet in a stupor of apprehension. He wasted no time assaulting with follow up strikes at the Lion. Rex moved slower than he should have been, and Zeta¡¯s blows kept grazing him. Not a single one of them cut the skin. Natural Padding. When Zeta realized that, he pulled back. With his free hand, he popped off Impossible Shots. The Lion switched into full battle mode, ducking from side to side to avoid the bullets. Despite the excessive speed needed, he never took a single heavy breath until he finally retreated for cover in the ruins of the building. Zeta froze. With Rex out of sight, the mere prospect of moving must have seemed lethal. Hera imagined a dozen ways she could join the battle, but none seemed particularly effective. She was trembling. Why can¡¯t I move? As if reading her mind once more, Zeta gestured for her to stay put, keeping absolutely silent. There was a grunt. A wall, once fixed into the ground as firmly as the world¡¯s mantle, nearly crushed Zeta with its cobble fixtures. Jumping out of its aftermath, Balder Rex punched Zeta¡¯s cheek through the opening the distraction gave him. The force sent Zeta crashing into another, still-intact building. Hera recognized such a mighty blow for Igel had used it many times. Enhanced Swing. ¡°Ah! That was a good try, swordsman. An ambush is the only way to kill me. Unfortunately, no ambush would work on me.¡± He stared at Zeta¡¯s beaten body amid the rubble. ¡°The same cannot be said for you.¡± Balder Rex glanced in Hera¡¯s direction, and even though he did not see her, he still spoke to her. ¡°I¡¯ll take it this is your new thug, Harpy? If he¡¯s here, then so are you. Come out.¡± Her body and mouth moved before her brain could hesitate. ¡°What the hell is wrong with you, Balder! You foul-tongued, sadistic son of a beachrat!¡± She twitched. That was not at all what she intended to say, but Hera had a problem with hard cursing. It was almost like a mental block. She couldn¡¯t help but censor herself even if she tried. Regardless, she embarrassed herself during a battle, a feat which shouldn¡¯t be possible. ¡°Impressive use of our language,¡± Rex commented. The body of Rex¡¯s man lay near her. His eyes had rolled back into his skull, and his body only moved with the assistance of the breeze. His skin had grayed as the soul has descended to hell. ¡°Why are you doing this? Answer me!¡± He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ve run out of patience for weaklings. Nature favors the strong, and I¡¯ve decided to assist her with the process of natural selection.¡± ¡°So you tear down homes? Your chucking rocks at innocent lives? That¡¯s your justification?¡± ¡°Harpy, I don¡¯t want to hear that. Least of all from you. Where did you get that rhetoric from? Nobody¡¯s innocent in this world. Certainly not the people of Aspic.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°There¡¯s always a skeleton in someone¡¯s closet. Hell, sometimes the muscles and skin are still there when its discovered. They may not be killers like you and me, but everyone, from the businessmen running trading charts to the lovers kissing on the Cerberus Street, they all find ways to ruin lives without taking them.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me a killer! I¡¯ve never taken a life and I never will!¡± She may have played the accomplice to many murders in the loosest, most indirect fashion, but that didn¡¯t really count, did it? Her heart dropped as the doubts began to settle in. ¡°And that¡¯s why I categorize you as one of the weak.¡± He glanced up at the sky. ¡°May the heavens recognize your death as proof for my just cause. Oh, who am I kidding? The heavens don¡¯t exist.¡± Rex plunged his hand into the ground, where it tore a hole without resistance. He plunged his other hand into the ground and lifted. ¡°Boulder¡­¡± he groaned as he pulled a massive piece of rock out of the street. ¡°Go on Harpy, run,¡± Rex said. ¡°I want to see how accurate I am against a moving target.¡± She really should have heeded him, but her legs were frozen. Out of instinct, she used Neural Flash, and Rex was taken aback from a moment. He blinked several times as if trying to process what just happened, but he did not drop the Boulder. ¡°That was mean,¡± he said. But it was just enough time, Hera thought as a figure shifted in the ruins. Zeta flew out of the debris and sliced rapidly at Rex¡¯s arm. The sudden shift to dodging led Rex to toss the Boulder to receive better weight distribution. Once again, none of Zeta¡¯s grazes made a dent in Rex¡¯s skin, no matter where he was struck. Seizing an opening, Balder kicked Zeta back to gain some distance. ¡°Is there a place on you that doesn¡¯t have Natural Padding?¡± Zeta asked through clenched teeth. Balder Rex grinned. ¡°Fortunately, no. I am completely protected.¡± What? That made no sense to Hera. ¡°He¡¯s lying, Zeta. His set is incomplete. Keep at it!¡± ¡°Harpy, you¡¯re wrong,¡± Rex said. ¡°I acquired a recent¡­ contribution.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°All I needed was a little gravedigging, and your dear deceased partner, Berto, helped me complete my set.¡± Hera heard the world stop for a moment. Her heart clung to her chest. ¡°You robbed his grave?¡± Zeta seethed. It was strange. He was behaving as an outlet for the emotions she currently felt but was too paralyzed to express. In a way, it was charming. For a dolt, he knew how to help people without even trying to. ¡°Have you no respect for the fallen!¡± he yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t see the problem. There were sigmas just lying around unused. The real tragedy is knowing you two just left them there.¡± Zeta shook with absolute rage. He sent a single glance to Hera. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Hera. I always ask myself a question before facing my enemies, and this man already gave me my answer. He will receive no mercy.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Rex cocked his head to the side. ¡°Do you think you can kill me?¡± Black Meridian glimmered as Zeta readied to fight again. ¡°Without a doubt.¡±
Boulder - Terrestrial: Extracts a massive chunk of rock from the ground that can be manipulated for the benefit of the user. (190).
  • (A) Plunge both hands into the ground and attempt to lift.
  • Strength is automatically granted to maneuver the boulder.
  • Boulder can be manipulated with any means once extracted from the ground.
  • Opponents cannot use the boulder in a similar fashion unless they possess the natural strength or sigma capability to do so.
  • No matter what physical state the boulder is in, the user can still manipulate the boulder with supernatural means.
1-21 Crush ZETA Peak physical condition. That¡¯s what Zeta spent his growing years striving for on that mountain. His first steps towards Balder Rex carried immense, booming weight as he trucked across the ground. With one finger raised, a hail of Impossible Shots burst forth. Regardless of whether or not Rex had the full Natural Padding set, Zeta and Hera had a greater tool: knowledge. Curse knowledge. Knowing that Natural Padding did not protect against bullets. However, Zeta had no plans to stand still and shoot idly. He may be a sublime swordsman, but in contrast, he was a piss poor marksman. Rex was an expert at avoiding the shots. Ultimately, they served as a distraction so his proud sword could do the real damage. Tired of shifting from side to side, Rex paused and opened his palm in Zeta¡¯s path. ¡°Sonic Ray,¡± he said. An array of vibrant light-gray rings rapidly emitted from his palm. As soon as they passed through Zeta¡¯s ears, he collapsed with deafening pain. A moment later and he felt punched in the face with a force that launched him back to where he started. Shaking off the residual ringing in his ears, Zeta charged in again, sword drawn and shots fired. ¡°Sonic Ray.¡± This one was aimed for the chest. No screeching sound, but a great deal of force pounded his chest. Once again, he flew back to square one. Unpredictable is predictable. Zeta charged again, and Rex scoffed at his third attempt. When the ray came forth, Zeta sidestepped it, sword pointed and aimed at the heart. Rex¡¯s grin didn¡¯t vanish, however. Instead, he reeled back his hand and swung. Zeta ducked, slashing at the belly. He missed, and Rex followed up with a jab in Zeta¡¯s stomach instead. Agh! It was the same with his earlier strikes. He had felt this before. Enhanced. Rex¡¯s blow sent him flying upward. He landed sooner than expected because he was sitting on the roof of a building. Zeta sat up and stroked his chin. Little rivers of red were flowing from his mouth. He rolled over to see Balder standing next to the ground floor of the building. He punched his hand into the wall. ¡°Complete Collapse,¡± he said and yanked it out. The entire foundation fell apart. The supports and walls toppled, and the ceiling¡¯s plaster shattered as it came crashing down. The stones dissolved into powder and the wood cracked into splinters. Somewhere in the rubble of rock, he lost his grip on Black Meridian. ¡°Zeta!¡± he heard Hera cry, although it was nearly inaudible. His ears were plugged and his vision obscured by sawdust. His mind slipped in and out of conscious focus. A cold, meaty hand gripped his throat out of nowhere. ¡°And here I thought you were supposed to be a tough guy. How the hell did someone like you beat my two best men!¡± Like a pebble, Rex threw Zeta across the street as if he offered no resistance at all. What made it more fearsome was that the throw was natural, not enhanced. Zeta¡¯s first response was to vomit a blob of blood. His arms were too weak to lift him off the ground, and thousands of red flags were popping off in his brain like fireworks. The dust of death sprinkled in his vision when he closed his eyes. ¡°All those little pads on your body. I¡¯m assuming those injuries were sustained by Crue and Gust. Understandable, they aren¡¯t easy opponents,¡± Rex said. ¡°I can also assume you¡¯re not at your full strength, then, so normally I¡¯d forgive your weakness.¡± Zeta felt Rex¡¯s boot crash into his spine, and he yelled in agony. ¡°But the true insult is the fact that you believed you could defeat me while in that state!¡± he said with venom, grinding his heel into Zeta¡¯s back. ¡°Rex, stop! Enough of this!¡± Hera cried from the sidelines. In his aggravated mind, Zeta wondered what anchored her to the ground. He knew she was stronger than this. Come¡­fight¡­Hera¡­ Rex ignored her, his eyes still trained on Zeta. ¡°You arrogant bastard! Read my sigma score and compare it to yours. You¡¯ll understand how infuriating it is that someone like you possessed the audacity to challenge me.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He eased up on the pain and stepped away, giving Zeta a breather. Gradually, Zeta crawled to a sitting position. He looked up to Rex and smiled. ¡°Sorry, I can¡¯t read.¡± That was it. First, Zeta saw Rex¡¯s face distort into a reddened scowl. The sun complemented that look by offering a dark shadow complexion. Next, Rex¡¯s weight was on top of him. He couldn¡¯t see, hear or speak as a storm of fists pounded away at his face. Eventually, Rex stopped, although his furious huffing and puffing did not. When he spoke, spit dribbled onto Zeta¡¯s bruised cheek. ¡°Well, I can. It¡¯s a whole digit difference. I don¡¯t know where you found the incentive to challenge me, because to you, I may as well be a god. Pathetic.¡± Zeta started laughing, even though that was the last thing his lungs needed. He broke into a coughing fit and still smiled through bloody red teeth. ¡°Sigma scores don¡¯t matter to me. They don¡¯t matter at all. They¡¯re just numbers that fools like you to delude yourself with. No wonder you call yourself a god. It¡¯s because you¡¯re insane.¡± A vein popped in Rex¡¯s forehead. ¡°That mouth needs to be sewn shut. Maybe then life like yours would be worth living.¡± He kicked Zeta in the jaw, and the world could hear it snap from the socket. HERA Hera was about to burst into tears. The crack took her out of reality. In a flash, she caught a brief glimpse of the manor. Five years old. People were walking behind her on the street, but she couldn¡¯t turn her head to see them. No, all she could do was stare at the empty playground next to the manor. The swing was moving at a constant rate. Constant, but no one was aboard. She heard the crack again, and the garden door opened. Someone was inside, but she couldn¡¯t make out the details. That didn¡¯t matter, she knew who it was. Crack! ¡°Hera, you useless brat! Get over here!¡± Crack! Back on the streets of Aspic, a bystander to her ally¡¯s suffering. Rex had no mercy as he smashed Zeta into every structure on the block, yet somehow had not managed to kill him. This is not why we came here. Somewhere along the way her feet molded with the ground and refused to move. We came here to win. What the hell am I doing! The last crack was when Zeta broke his jaw, and from the way his body was lying, he was either unconscious¡­or dead. Rex¡¯s glare shifted to her immediately; the bloodlust had not dissipated from his eyes. A bucket of icy northern water trickled down her spine. It was so intense she almost imagined it to be real. She thought that hooded figure was nearby again, but she knew he wasn¡¯t the cause. All this was terror derived from her own heart. ¡°Harpy,¡± Rex said quietly. With Zeta out of the way, his demeanor calmed. ¡°Are you proud of sending people to their doom?¡± ¡°He¡¯s¡­not dead,¡± she declared. Rex kneeled down. His muscular fingers pressed against Zeta¡¯s neck to check for a pulse. ¡°Not yet. I can change that if you desire.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± He turned to face her with his full body, bare. Zeta left not a single blemish nor a scratch. The entire battle was a hopeless endeavor. ¡°Desire. You¡¯ve been asking why I¡¯m doing this, but the truth is you really don¡¯t need to know. I think the uncertainty is what is keeping you frozen in place, weak and helpless. I like that. Lena would too.¡± ¡°L¨CLena?¡± Hera asked. ¡°So you know her? I¡¯m shocked. Lena Kurova is not a name thrown around among the poor folk. I take it you must know about the Pentagon as well.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard of it. They sound like a vile group.¡± ¡°Now, let¡¯s not be too harsh on those we haven¡¯t met, Harpy.¡± His mood lightened as he made a friendly kick in Zeta¡¯s ribs. Zeta made no sound. ¡°Did you love this one, Harpy? I can see why. He has the looks¨Cor he did, anyway. The strength. The overwhelming pride. The stupid, stupid sense of duty that all white knights seem to love. Indeed, a prince of legend. ¡°If love drives you, I understand. It¡¯s why I hate to see you speak like that about strangers.¡± ¡°What the hell are you talking about?¡± Rex looked to the sky like a poet amidst a dream. ¡°Lena. Dear Lena, they call you the Wise for your gift of the mind. Your beauty knows no bounds, enchanting to all those touched by your knowledge.¡± An aura of creepiness swarmed her. Balder Rex was a brute, yet somehow this woman transformed him into a poet. It was sickening, but not as sickening as the fact that he had the upper hand on both of them. ¡°Harpy, will you help me seek this courtship? You look exactly like her, you know. A bit younger, and definitely not as mature, but you were a treat to stare at when the world remained stagnant.¡± A chilly breeze swept through the street. Rex''s words were violating. Eye candy? That was her full value to him after all this time? ¡°My ambitions have grown since then, and your tenure as a substitute has run its course.¡± ¡°You¡­you did this all for some absurd love? You plan to destroy Aspic for what, then? Some kind of trial to prove you¡¯re worthy of the bride?¡± there was a choked overtone to her words. Never in her life had speaking been an arduous effort. ¡°Wrong. That¡¯s the part where you come in,¡± Rex said as he grew closer. ¡°Not only did you mirror dear Lena¡¯s looks, but you also have her focus as well. Your sigmas are my ticket to the Pillar of the Mind, and you will give them to me!¡± When he started marching forward, her feet could finally move. ¡°Get away!¡± She started running, throwing Neural Flashes behind her every second she could. It was unfortunate that the sigma needed concentration to successfully hit the target. ¡°Not going to work, Harpy! I¡¯m prepared against the mind! I have to be! For her! Give me your sigmas!¡± he cackled with hideous joy. ¡°Sonic Ray!¡± Hera felt an awful burst of sound ring through her ears and throw her off balance, a subsequent force sent her soaring into a nearby stall. The rampant rumble of aggressive footsteps grew closer, and a knee of pure bulk pinned her chest down with crushing, unrelenting weight. Balder Rex raised his fist in delight. ¡°A long time ago, my dreams were just an illusion. But those days are long past! My love is not absurd anymore, Harpy! I will join the Pentagon, and the most beautiful woman in the world will be my wife. I guarantee it. Goodbye, and thank you for your service!¡± When she was a child, Hera¡¯s favorite book was The Dragon¡¯s Gold. Like most fantasy children¡¯s books, it featured a princess. A damsel in distress. A pure-hearted soul that could never be harmed. It was her favorite because she hated it. The real world didn¡¯t work like that. Right now, she wished it did. Hera struggled, but Balder wouldn¡¯t budge. He wasted no time bringing his fist down on her face, again and again. He frequently paused, as if each hit was something to savor. The right place spot needed to be selected. An appropriate amount of force was required. She needed enough room for her head to roll after the hit. Hera eventually stopped resisting. Through a beaten and bloody face, she could see what she assumed would be the killing blow. You call yourself a man, yet you can¡¯t kill if it isn¡¯t brutal. That¡¯s not a husband, that¡¯s a savage. I hope Lena kills you the second you touch her doorstep. But Balder¡¯s hand did not finish her. First, it was pierced by an invisible bullet, then his shoulder was stabbed by a black sword, cutting through his flesh like a javelin. Go away, Zeta. I refuse to be the damsel. Hera gripped Balder¡¯s knee and clenched her fist to make sure Neural Fighter was active. ¡°If you want something to love, try defeat. Be warned, Balder, it goes through many relationships.¡± She jammed her finger into his thigh with the most significant force her strength could muster.
Sonic Ray - Sound: Projects a sonic beam of deafening force from the user¡¯s hand. (455).
  • (A) Aim with the palm of the hand.
  • The ray is a cylinder, not a cone, therefore its maximum radius is the palm of the hand.
  • Ray fires for a maximum of three seconds with a single activation
  • The sound of Sonic Ray can only be heard if the beam crosses the target¡¯s ears. Otherwise, targets will only feel the force.
1-22 The Lion of Aspic ZETA Even if it resulted from his own poor decisions, Zeta had enough of mistreating that precious sword. Given the situation, however, Black Meridian would forgive him if he managed to save Hera¡¯s life. She swung into action, fiercely jabbing Balder Rex¡¯s flesh. After receiving so many of her Neural Fighter hits, he could vicariously feel her poking into his thigh. It almost made him feel sympathy for Rex. Almost. He had long resolved to slay the man. Rex reeled backward and yanked Black Meridian from his shoulder. He tried to break it, same as the foes before him, but that blade would not budge. Never to the likes of you. He tossed the sword aside, but Zeta did not make a gambit for it. It was predictable, and Rex was counting on that prediction. Wait, retrieve it later. Even as he planned, it was distasteful to abandon the sword. He loved it. Only the flames of Hell itself could overpower his wrath if Black Meridian were lost or broken. Neither would happen so long as he lived and breathed. To Zeta, that sword was possessed by Sir Kagan¡¯s soul. With Rex some distance away, Zeta and Hera rejoined. They shared many unhygienic characteristics at the moment. Doused in sweat, blood, and grime. Honestly, the only difference between them was Zeta¡¯s broken jaw and the inability to speak. ¡°Everything he¡¯s doing, he does out of lust. That¡¯s such a disgusting, selfish motivation,¡± Hera said with venom. I heard, Zeta wanted to say. Unfortunately, his slackened jawline had ended any snide comments he desired to make. Maybe it was for the better. He could focus on fighting this way. ¡°Lust is an awful substitute for ¡®passion,¡¯¡± Balder said. He looked at Zeta. "You¡¯re still conscious? You have the physique of a tank, and all without sigmas too. Unfortunately, a proficient build does not equate to a painless one. If you insist on living, I¡¯ll turn it into suffering.¡± ¡°You will do no such thing,¡± Hera declared. ¡°He suffers enough, more than you could ever imagine.¡± Zeta really wished he could speak right now. Hera almost seemed to be crying. Her tears quivered as they came out a warm drizzle. Zeta grimaced. She had to represent him even if she was in no emotional condition to do so. Damn you, Balder! Balder laughed. ¡°If you¡¯re referring to his jawline, trust me. I can do a great deal worse.¡± She looked at Zeta. A gaze that pierced his retinas. They were locked in sorrow, and although he couldn¡¯t speak, he knew she was seeking affirmation. He permitted it, even though he had no clue what it was she needed to say. ¡°A physical fracture like that must hurt tremendously, but that is not the suffering I¡¯m talking about. If I know anything about you, Zeta, you¡¯d laugh it off by morning once the danger passes over.¡± Hera¡¯s enraged glare fixed on Rex, who maintained his smug expression, unfazed. ¡°The suffering I speak of, Balder, is one of humility. Something a complete, narcissistic, self-obsessed asshole like you would never understand. Humility! ¡°It took me a while. And ¨Cyou know¨C I may not even quite get it yet, but I think I understand the basics of the term Servant of Humanity. It¡¯s not the ¡®servant¡¯ role that I know. It¡¯s something new, something¡­admirable. Not heroics, but dedication. Subservient dedication to the betterment for all. Am I right, Zeta? I think if you could say something, you¡¯d agree. Maybe I missed the mark completely. But, regardless¨C¡± her temper flared. ¡°It¡¯s a much better existence than anything you¡¯ve shown, Lion of Aspic!¡± It was a futile speech, but it parted the clouds of the mind. The world may never hear Hera speak, but it was a healthy thing to get off the chest. I can¡¯t talk, but that was the voice I wanted. It wasn¡¯t even what he would have asked Balder. It¡¯s what he wanted to tell himself. Balder started clapping. ¡°Great spiel, Harpy. I wish I recorded that somewhere. The book would have flown off the shelves, and the money would come flying in. Hell, maybe I could add that to my dowry for Lena.¡± ¡°If she¡¯s anything like me, she would never accept you in a million years.¡± ¡°But she¡¯s not. You may have an infantile grasp of her powers, but your personalities could not be more different. For one, she is Lena Kurova the Wise, the Pentagon¡¯s Pillar of the Mind, and you are but a speck of her shadow. Sonic Ray.¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He opened his palm and sent another sonic blast there way. They dodged to opposite ends, and Zeta made a break for Black Meridian. Balder caught on to his attempt and aimed another ray. He fired, and Zeta braced for pain, but the aim was wide off. Balder winced, clenching his forehead. Neural Flash. Thanks, Hera. Finally, her fear had shed its skin, or maybe that was the adrenaline. Either way, it was Zeta who was left encouraged. His ally finally had her head in the game. The instant he gripped his sword, he split it into two with Dual Wield. Vocal commands were necessary for all sigma activations unless repeating one of the previous five. Thankfully, since Zeta only had three notable sigmas, it didn¡¯t matter if his voice didn¡¯t work. Just make the activation pose and attack. He dashed towards him, once again his feet darting against the ground for great coverage. Zeta had given up on Impossible Shots as an effective means against Rex. Although a stray shot here and there wouldn¡¯t hurt. Rex readied to defend, but he sensed Hera behind him. Even with two opponents on opposite sides, Rex proved more capable of handling the situation than the Curved Storm. He pushed them away at interchangeable turns, ensuring that neither of them could harm him simultaneously. However, he strained to maintain this process. Zeta recognized it favorably as a war of attrition. So long as they kept pressure, the Lion would eventually succumb. When enough exhaustion settled in, Rex tried to shove past Zeta¡¯s next blow. Zeta purposefully missed, swinging his sword a little too close. Therefore, Rex¡¯s arm was elsewhere when Zeta slashed his belly. ¡°Agh!¡± Rex stumbled into Hera, who kicked him the spine. With Neural Fighter, Zeta twitched to imagine the paralyzing pain. Zeta readied a second strike, but Rex grabbed his shoulders suddenly. With one fearsome pull, he threw Zeta into Hera and sent them both flying. They hit the ground rolling over like logs. ¡°I¡¯ve had enough!¡± Rex said as he plunged his hands into the ground. ¡°Quake!¡± Neither Zeta nor Hera could focus as a crack split the world beneath them. They screamed as they fell, and Zeta stabbed the two Black Meridians into the rock. Hera grabbed his waist as they came to a halt. Planting his feet in the stone and dirt, he started picking his way back to the surface. With two people, the weight created a slow, arduous performance. Rex would have none of it. Red-eyed, he glanced into the crack and used Quake again. The world fractured again, and Zeta¡¯s swords came loose from the soil. No second chances. They were falling into darkness, the planet vibrating around them. Rocks, boulders, debris fell around them, piercing the solid bottom of the pit. It broke open, exposing stone and a stream of filthy water. A torrent of chaos followed, culminating with Zeta opening his eyes to the smell of fecal matter drenching his clothes as the brown fluid flowed around it. Great, saved by a sewer. He supposed he was grateful that he was still breathing. He scrambled to his feet and searched for Hera. She lay a few feet away, conscious and seemingly alright. Damn it, I wish I could speak. Hera rose to her feet and scraped away the nasty crap dangling from her clothes. She may have been physically okay, but her face stated I want to die. ¡°Well, swine isn¡¯t preferable, but at least we¡¯re alive,¡± she said. Zeta urged that they needed to move. Balder may not be able to follow them, but being underground as the surface was shaking was far from ideal. Tunnels were naturally resistant to faults and other seismic disturbances, but they weren¡¯t immune. In fact, if Rex created enough severe damage, their safe haven would instantly transform into a death trap. ¡°I understand, but these sewers are a maze. I used to use them for smuggling before I realized Aspic didn¡¯t give a damn about the illegal trade. Nevertheless, we stuck to the edges to avoid getting lost.¡± The sewer rumbled, intense despite the tunnel nullifying the effects. Water splashed up and hit Zeta¡¯s mouth, and that¡¯s when he contemplated cutting off his lips. He started running. He didn¡¯t know where he was going, but it was better than being directly beneath the source of Rex¡¯s Quake. Hera scowled. ¡°I can¡¯t believe it. Doesn¡¯t give a damn if we¡¯re dead or not and immediately goes back to ripping the city in two. Despicable bastard.¡± She told him she usually put a mental guard against ¡®common curses,¡¯ which made hearing them escape her tongue without hesitation far more terrifying. The tunnel twisted endlessly. They would spot a faint, ambient light only to be barred by a grate. Zeta wanted to cut through them, but Black Meridian had enough dents in it already. Besides, chipping away at that iron was a hopeless feat. Hera yelped whenever a rat crossed their feet. Amusing, but with Zeta jumpy for any imminent dangers, the false alarms weren¡¯t helping. He threw her a glare to stop. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault they¡¯re filthy!¡± she claimed. Another Quake. The pattern seemed to follow them through the sewers. These were created for more than mere chaos. It was evident now that Balder Rex was trying to kill them from above or, at the very least, snuff them out of the sewers. If you wanted us dead, maybe you shouldn¡¯t have thrown us down here in the first place. An awful sound interrupted Zeta¡¯s speculation. Pleasant on a tropical cliffside, disastrous in a dark, tight space with a cistern. Running water. Hera heard it too. ¡°Zeta¨C¡± The water came around the corner in a violent splash, followed by a tide full of fish and disease. Zeta had no plans to die to a flood of filth, but fate wanted other ideas. ¡°No! No! No! This is a dream! This is a dream!¡± Hera screamed as they sprinted back the way they came. The panic led them down the wrong routes. After three or four turns, it was clear that their split-second decisions led them into an entirely different section of the sewers. The flood¡¯s water level barely died down behind them. They made one corner, then another, then they faced a grate. The current sealed the path behind them. Doom. I refuse to die here! Thinking about it did little for reality. Hera and Zeta braced to drown in a sea of excrement. She even crept behind him just a little, as if letting him die first would somehow better her chances. Thanks. They heard the zipping roar of a ski on water, and then the wave stopped. The flood folded back in on itself as if the water was bouncing against an imaginary wall. It could not touch them except for little leaks at the edges. That¡¯s when Zeta realized that feeling had returned. The evil shiver down his spine. Chilling Presence. They turned around, and the man in the brown cloak stood there, eyes shadowed and smiling. His extended hand stopped the water. With his other hand, he used liquid to cut a sizeable opening in the grate. What the hell! Sure, the grate was partially rusted, but not even Black Meridian could cut through it that easily. How lacerating was that sigma? Regardless, Zeta and Hera passed through the opening without question. ¡°Praise Valeri! Thank you, sir¨C¡± Hera began. He started chuckling. He let go of the torrent and tossed his hands behind him. His body glided across the stream of sewage as if powered by a motor. The flood resumed. ¡°Hey! Come back here!¡± Zeta grabbed her hand and followed the man¡¯s direction. The brown wave pursued them afterward. They did not know the brown cloak¡¯s intentions, but that did not matter for the moment. All they did know was that he saved them and following him would bring them to an exit. Anything to get out of this hell.
Dam Force - Liquid, Defense: User can forcefully halt an oncoming tidal wave from crossing a certain, invisible barrier. (943).
  • (A) Hold hand towards oncoming flood or wave.
  • Dam Force can be applied up to a distance of 5 meters away from the user.
  • Dam Force does not have to be linear. If using two hands in activation, Dam Force can surround the user in a perfect circle.
  • Dam Force can cover a maximum area of 100 square meters by default. The angle and placement can be adjusted by force of will.
    • The current height of Dam Force is maintained when using the radial variant.
1-23 Heartbreak ZETA The good news. Even though he disappeared, the man in the brown cloak led them to an evening autumn light at the edge of the drainage. A great beach and the aqua lining of the blue sea greeted them. The bad news. Aspic¡¯s sewer system had few drainage pipes, so they were like flies in a funnel. Balder Rex smashed Zeta into the beachhead before Zeta soaked in fresh rays of sunlight. ¡°There you two are. I¡¯ve been waiting.¡± Hera tried to attack in Zeta¡¯s stead, but Rex simply grabbed her arm and tossed her near the sea. She rolled across the sand to the edge of the ocean¡¯s ebb where a tide of saltwater washed over her. ¡°I think you both need cleaning after coming out of that filthy place. Why don¡¯t I introduce you to the sunken ships?¡± Zeta held his jaw steady. A thousand pulses of pain shot through every filament when he touched it, but it offered artificial movement. ¡°I¡¯ve. Had. Enough.¡± ¡°So have I, swordsman.¡± Zeta kicked up sand as Rex fired another Sonic Ray. Beneath the shroud of gravel, Zeta burst through with his sword at the ready. His other hand posed for Impossible Shot. Swing. Shot. Swing. Shot. Swing. Shot. Swing. Swing. Shot. All of them missed. Nevertheless, Zeta persisted. How a man of Rex¡¯s stature managed to move with swift elegance continued to baffle him. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you chalked up Crue and Gust to henchmen a step above dogshit. If you did, you¡¯re a fool.¡± If you¡¯re claiming they are equivalent to you, then you¡¯re not that impressive, Zeta wanted to say. Damn the broken jaw. ¡°I sparred with them many times. The blade and the bullet. I practiced day after day with their guidance specifically for this scenario,¡± he continued. ¡°I don¡¯t need sigmas to handle you. All of this is completely natural.¡± Rex trained his eyes on Black Meridian. He stopped the sword by grabbing the flat with his hand. No blood again. Damn the Natural Padding. ¡°They were friends, and we were going to climb this world together. Now, do you understand why I hate you so so much? You, a worm, had no right to defeat them!¡± His firm grip prevented Zeta from pulling Black Meridian away. Rex yanked the sword, and its owner, closer and jammed a clawed fist into his stomach. He worsened the enhanced hit when he whispered, ¡°Sonic Ray.¡± His stomach convulsed as the force of a rocking log slammed into his gut. A branch of that force also struck his chin and throat. He slipped off the sand and into the air. Never had Zeta appreciated the gift of gravity as much as he did that moment. Soaring through the air, his body flailed until it struck the ocean that pulled him undertow. HERA When her vision refocused, she heard the idiot splash into the water behind her. If he drowned, he drowned, it didn¡¯t bother her. Zeta was tough, so she doubted that happened. Seeing Balder again so suddenly after their turmoil in the sewers stole something from Hera. After his first hit, the motivation leaked out of her. Well, not the motivation necessarily, but the urgency. Her perception of danger had shattered like glass. So she took her time after slapping against the shore. Sand and shit covered her body in places best left unmentioned. Salt stung her eyes, yet her filthy hands could not rub it away. She patted herself for a dry piece of cloth, ripped it off and used it to clear her eyes. Even after regaining some sight, the world remained dark. Hera wasn¡¯t sure if it was her own imagination. Had everything always been this bleak? The sea wrapped around her ankles. Clumps of nature fell from her hair and sloshed as they touched the sand. Rex ran his mouth, but she stayed ignorant of his presence. His taunts and neurotic ideas could wait while she sorted out this strange new world. The familiar tingling in her mind about their location clicked into place. This shoreline is where Zeta and she dismissed the Lilick Brothers. I wonder how those boys are doing right now. Behind the beach, the famed docks of Aspic rested on wooden stills like a wealthy neighbor. Half the city fled to them to escape Balder, but they could see the beach. Balder¡¯s reappearance made them run inland instead. At this rate, they¡¯ll get some decent exercise.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. A Fishman crawled to land next to her, drenched in saltwater and carrying a thin black sword. His jaw was displaced from its socket. Oh, is that you, Zeta? He looked at her, and although he couldn¡¯t speak, she knew what he was asking. ¡°Do you plan to help me anytime soon?¡± No, I don¡¯t. A dazed focus on the sunset was much more enjoyable. When she didn¡¯t respond, Zeta ran past her, charging at Balder. She watched the sea, and the sounds of scuffle emerged behind her. White noise for her ears. Today was far from over, but she could envision the sun in its setting phase. Its orange hue dominating the horizon in a glorious bright light. She analyzed the calm and collected waters between it and her, a vast, fluid wasteland with infinite possibilities. Erupting sand scraped against her back, which meant the combatants were nearby. She paid them no mind, for they lie in the direction of Aspic. And Aspic was falling. It didn¡¯t matter. Ahead was the Western Shelf and other world wonders. Zeta slid in the sand in front of her until his head was dunked in the ocean. His tattered shirt exposed the violet bruising in his chest. Nevertheless, he refused to succumb. He stood up and charged his opponent again. And again. And again. Didn¡¯t he ever get tired? No, and neither would she. She reached back and used Neural Flash. She didn¡¯t need to see the man to know where Balder Rex stood. The ringing in her ears stopped, and voices emerged once more. ¡°Harpy? Are you all there?¡± Rex¡¯s annoying voice asked. She chose her decibel level carefully. A voice loud enough for the vocal command to register, yet low enough that no one could hear her. BALDER REX, The Lion of Aspic ¡°Harpy? Harpy!¡± Balder shouted. Her silence in such a severe situation pricked at his composure. Had she snapped? He knew he hit hard, but never before had his blows been enough to break the mind. Just look at the fly next to her. He has not stopped. Admirable, but also fucking annoying. His former client simply stared into the horizon while her ally slowly died. Zeta rushed in for another bout. Balder promptly gave it to him. As he slid around all his attacks, he planned which bone to break next. Hera used another Neural Flash, and Balder reeled back, taking a graze in the rib before pushing Zeta away. It was enhanced, so Zeta was flung off the beach with that amount of force. ¡°Damn it, Harpy! Are you apart of this or not!¡± Another Flash. Then another. What did she hope to prove? The idiot. All his emotions pulled pictures of Lena Kurova to his forebrain. Did she think that deterred him? If anything, he received an adrenaline rush. Another Flash. They were subsequent, like strobe lights. The images aroused him. Not the mood he expected, but not one he regretted either. They grew more frequent, but Rex could still toss away another bull rush from Zeta while viewing them. That¡¯s just how pathetic the swordsman was. Another, and another. Rex watched the Harpy and laughed. The images flashed before him like stop motion. The most beautiful woman in the world and she tried to use that against him? But then the images had no interims. It was a constant still. Lena¡¯s figure obscured his view in its entirety. How the hell? Not that he was complaining, but he had a vague understanding of Neural Flash. This wasn¡¯t possible. He noted that Zeta¡¯s next assault had not come on time, or maybe he just couldn¡¯t see it. No, he could see Zeta, and he was gawking at¡­Lena? No, wait¨C Come to think of it, we¡¯re still on the beach. His eyes widened. He looked around. He was still apart of reality, but there she was. Lena Kurova was there! She was with him! ¡°H¨CHow!¡± From his enemy¡¯s expression, this was not an illusion. She was actually standing there, on the shoreline, right where the Harpy once stood. But¡­but her face. It was not Hera¡¯s lesser imitation. That was it, that was Lena. In the flesh, down the minute folds in the skin ¡°Balder,¡± Lena said. She called me by my first name! She had addressed him on equal terms. All of it was happening so fast. He had pictured it, time and time again, the very words he would say to impress her on their first meeting. But he couldn¡¯t muster them, and he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Y¨Cyes, Miss Kurova.¡± Miss, because she was unmarried. ¡°You¡­are a disappointment. The absolute bottom of this world. You sit in this backwater and consider yourself a king, but you are little more than an overvalued thug. I am insulted that a lowlife such as you would consider yourself worthy of my courtship.¡± Did reality shatter? Rex felt like it had done so. No, maybe it was just his imagination? Did he hear her right? ¡°Your pathetic posturing like a lovesick puppy has tainted my name and everything it stands for. For that, I deem it necessary for you to die.¡± Her eyes glowed purple with psionic energy, and her hair floated with invisible wind and water. The world darkened, and her skin grayed to an ugly shade. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Something was very wrong here. This is not Lena Kurova, she would never deny him. This was an imitation, but still¡­ Why am I so frightened? ¡°Lena! I¡¯m sorry if I came on so strong. I apologize, truly, from the bottom of my heart and soul. I promise it won¡¯t happen again. Don¡¯t write me off, please!¡± She started strolling towards him, her fist raised with lethal intent. ¡°Go¡­go away, mockery! You claim my love is an insult, but this replica is the true offense! End this now or this entire island will suffer the consequences!¡± She didn¡¯t stop. There was movement out of the corner of Rex¡¯s eye. Zeta¡­ Damn it, he needed to be attentive, but he couldn¡¯t pull his attention from¡­from her. Come on, shift your head, Balder. The swordsman will get you if you don¡¯t move! Self-induced paralysis. Rex''s eyes were locked onto Kurova, who claimed to hate him. He shut his eyes. It¡¯s a fake! Ignore it! He tried to move his head, but his eyelids pried open. He couldn¡¯t stop! Never before had he seen such a perfect representation of her image. If this was the true Lena Kurova, the drawings had done her no justice. A patter of sandy footsteps behind him. Turn around, stop the swordsman! His head creaked to the side. Yes, yes! They can¡¯t win. He wouldn¡¯t let them! His feet turned to the side, his torso shifting to face the real threat. Come on, just a few more steps! ¡°The true shame, Balder Corticus Rex, is the fact that you will die shamefully before you ever glimpse the real thing,¡± Lena said. He turned to her in horror, then yanked himself away as the footsteps grew louder behind him. He prepared to defend himself, but Zeta wasn¡¯t there. A kick slammed into his chest from the side. His chest was padded, but the force was still enough to make him stumble. Two hands pinched the flesh on his shoulder blades and twisted. He felt as if they had torn off muscle. Such was Neural Fighter. Rex turned around to face Hera, whose guise as her doppelganger had ended. While he was unhinged, she grabbed his chin. ¡°Goodbye, Rex. If Hell grants you another life, maybe you¡¯ll find love in that one instead.¡± There was an ache in his chest. No, more like a searing sting. He glanced down to see a black blade piercing his sternum, threads of his heart leftover on the sword¡¯s steel. I see. I wonder, Lena. Had we met in the real world, would you have loved me? Or would you have scorned me, as these fools seem to imply? He collapsed to the beach, a broken pipe of blood leaking from his mouth. Only then did he notice the loose scraps of trash and dirt that polluted the sand. What an unfit place to die. Rex glanced to the beautiful view at the edge of the sea. He wanted to leave Aspic so severely, to the point where he was willing to destroy it to take the world. I guess a part of me liked this city. I don¡¯t mind dying for it, even if it wasn''t my first choice. Balder Rex was conscious of his last breath.
Liquid Cutter - Liquid, Offense: A small puddle of liquid can be moved at rapid speeds to sever solid material or cause major damage. (607).
  • (A) Point hand towards liquid source. Slash and swing at target and liquid will follow.
  • Liquid ¡®hovers¡¯ near user¡¯s hand so as to offer freeform combat.
  • Liquid travels at approximately 25 m/s when used to cut.
  • The liquid can only hover up to half a meter around the user¡¯s hands. Any further and control will be lost.
1-23.2 (F) Petruss Tavern PETRUS, a tavernkeeper in Shamrock Cling! Clang! ¡°HUZZAH!¡± the tavern erupted in a communal roar. A series of gulps silenced the cheers and laughter as mugs of alcohol went down the hatch. Even Petrus drank his share. It wasn¡¯t appropriate for the tavernkeeper, but who cared? Today of all days, he was free to drink as he pleased. As long as he maintained the capacity to serve customers, no complaints. Patricia danced among the customers. A carefree damsel equipped with a tray of overflowing pints of ale and a massive grin. Her ceremonial skirt twirled in a smooth, seamless circle. The frills brushed against the drinkers as she passed. In return, she received leering eyes. Even in his buzzed stupor, Petrus kept an eye on his wife. He was okay with the customers¡¯ behavior. They had the money after all, and Patricia was having fun nevertheless. However, knowing this crowd, a steel-tipped broom handle awaited any man whose hand moved a little too far from his mug. This was the spirit of the village of Shamrock, a small enclave on the western shore of the Selatin Kingdom. The mining town was full of heavy drinkers on every other day of the year, although those cups were mainly for drowning one¡¯s sorrows. Not today. Today the people celebrated the legacy of their town¡¯s pride and joy. Alessandria, a Moon focus born a century ago at the kingdom¡¯s dawn, and the first person to occupy the role of the Seventh Paladin. She was born in Shamrock, according to legend at least, but the legend was the only thing making the village relevant in the eyes of history. Yeah, it was worth a few kegs of ale every year. Granted, one wouldn¡¯t guess they were celebrating anyone at all without doing their research. From the flushed expressions of the tavern-goers, they just wanted an excuse to drink even more. Petrus raised his cup and cried, ¡°Huzzah!¡± for no other reason than because he could. The drunken tavern cheered back. Petrus broke into a giggling fit at how easy spurring them was. ¡°Are you alright, man?¡± ¡°Hehe. Jus¡¯ give me a moment.¡± Patricia twirled near him, her tray now a clump of empty mugs. ¡°Oi, Pete! Some want Lager¡¯s now. The Alessandria special.¡± ¡°How many times do I have to tell them that special doesn¡¯t exist? Seriously, where do they get that idea from?¡± ¡°Well, they¡¯re gettin¡¯ rowdy. So I don¡¯t care if ¡®it doesn¡¯t exist¡¯ or not, I need somethin¡¯ to serve! Make something up if ya have to.¡± Petrus spit some loose saliva into his mug. ¡°I¡¯ll serve them my own piss if need be.¡± When Patricia left, he whispered to a customer at the bar. ¡°Ordering me ¡®round like that? I swear, sometimes she forgets who owns the damn place.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just enjoy the festivities, Petrus,¡± the customer said, raising his mug. ¡°Cheers to that! Ha!¡± A few hours passed. Oddly enough, there were few knockouts. If someone¡¯s snoring sucked in the walls, those nearby would kick them awake. The voice slowly slurred and quieted over time, but the overall mood had hardly changed. The boisterous joy settled into a quiet, sweet ambiance like froth disappearing from a flat beer. Enjoyable, but much less exciting. And then the door was kicked in. Normally, Petrus would have jumped into high alert if that happened, but his mind and body were much too weary to pay attention. The tavern came to an instant silence as all eyes drew to the newcomer. The afternoon sun shrouded his details while he remained outside. He walked into a clearer light, and the drunken tavern-goers gasped at varying degrees of horror and confusion. A monster had stepped inside. Evergreen hair, a solid steel ball bulging from the side of his nose and a ring jutted from his lower lip. His fingernails were elongated into sharp, black needles. He was disgusting, but at the same time, an odd figure. The expression on his face was sinister like he was devising a plan to kill everyone in an instant. Petrus¡¯s hand grabbed for the steel-tipped broom. ¡°I hope I¡¯m not late to the party,¡± the stranger said in a low voice. In the blink of an eye, his face twisted into beaming delight. ¡°Where¡¯s the ale! I swear to hell you better not have run out, old man!¡± Petrus¡¯s eye twitched. Suddenly, some features on this stranger were becoming more familiar. ¡°Oh, you have got to be joking. Theta? Is that you?¡± Teagan ¡°Theta¡± Arsetts sat at a stool and stole Petrus¡¯s mug without a word, gulping every last drop. ¡°Sorry. I know I promised to be back for the celebration, but the contract took way longer than I thought it would.¡± Theta rambled on, but Petrus wasn¡¯t ready to listen to him yet. First, he needed to make some verifications. ¡°Quit speaking. I think I¡¯ve drunk too much. I could hardly recognize you.¡± ¡°Oh, this? Yeah, I got a new look. Suits me, right?¡± Petrus stared at Theta¡¯s evergreen hair, which was pushed into a single strip atop his head. ¡°What happened? Why do you look¡­like that?¡± He shrugged. ¡°I wanted a change. See this? It¡¯s inspired by Modifications. They call it a ¡®piercing.¡¯ The wonders of modern art are amazing.¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Something wrong, Pete?¡± ¡°And you¡¯re comfortable with that look?¡± ¡°Yeah. The man told me I¡¯d get all the women. And it works! Watch?¡± He turned to Patricia. ¡°Hey! Come here.¡± Patricia heard him, but she didn¡¯t spare him a glance. She kept her back to Theta at all times. ¡°Eh, what a slut.¡± ¡°Theta, that¡¯s my wife.¡± ¡°Oh, right. Ha! I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll forgive me, right? After all, today¡¯s a day for joy!¡± However, Theta¡¯s arrival killed the mood in the tavern. Although conversations resumed, people soon decided it was time to leave. ¡°Hey, hey, hey! Where are you all going? The fun hasn¡¯t even started!¡± Theta called to them as they exited. ¡°It¡¯s¡­late. It¡¯s been fun, but work doesn¡¯t just stop tomorrow.¡± ¡°Yeah, I have a hangover to work through.¡± Theta looked appalled like he was on the verge of crying. ¡°Ah! Come on! I just got here.¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Welcome back, Teagan.¡± What was once shock simmered into anger. Watching even for Petrus was hard. Shamrock didn¡¯t hate Theta, but at the same time, he was challenging to be around. Blunt, rude, condescending, boastful. The man was a full sack of selfish personalities. Apparently, before Theta arrived in Shamrock, he had little to no exposure with society. It was honestly better if the people weren¡¯t around him today. In their drunken states, fists might be thrown when he crossed a line. That usually wasn¡¯t an ¡®if¡¯ but a ¡®when.¡¯ The dark glare in Theta¡¯s eyes tipped Petrus off that something was amiss. He might not have to worry about the people throwing the first punch tonight. ¡°Theta, don¡¯t¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not, Pete.¡± He moved the broken door aside and firmly stepped in the path of the departing townsfolk. Theta pointed to the sky. ¡°As you can all see, there¡¯s still daylight. Now, I don¡¯t know about you, but if I had only one day a year to celebrate to my heart¡¯s content, I¡¯d spend every second of it in cups.¡± ¡°Look, Theta, hic. We got buzzed a little too early. I don¡¯t think any of us have the energy to keep going.¡± ¡°Yeah, my wife will crack my skull in if I can¡¯t even function when I get home.¡± ¡°Dumbass. You already can¡¯t function!¡± Theta declared. ¡°Go big or go home. That¡¯s the rule in Teagan¡¯s household, and if you want to be my friends, we will abide.¡± A mixture of reactions spurred the crowd. Some of them wanted to throttle Theta for assuming they were his friends. Some felt guilty. None of them directly said they didn¡¯t care about him. Some of them did care about him but didn¡¯t know how to voice it properly. It reflected the kind of response Theta inspired ever since he saved Shamrock from a Hell Breach. Everyone wanted to thank him for their lives, but he grew increasingly intolerable. I guess it¡¯s why we can¡¯t turn him away. ¡°What do you have in mind, Theta?¡± Theta¡¯s grin emerged. He reached into his clothes and pulled out a deck of cards. Oh, boy. ¡°Play me at a game of luck. Five of you at a time. If you win, I¡¯ll give you a copy of Liver Cleanse, and you can go home with a sober smile. Otherwise, you and I are getting shit-faced till midnight!¡± They all groaned. Theta put his ear to them mockingly. ¡°Oh? Sounds like some people think themselves unlucky.¡± ¡°Okay, asshole! You¡¯re on!¡± It was amazing. Petrus shook his head and smiled at how quickly Theta could transform disappointment into aggravated hostility. He was too old to understand this new generation, but regardless of their tendency towards stupidity, it was better than having them stake each other¡¯s hearts with spears. Within minutes, Petrus¡¯s tavern was a game house. Patricia dealt the cards, and Theta was up against his first round of five opponents. A half-hour later, all five were sitting in the corner, sweltering in defeat. Theta¡¯s grin expanded. ¡°Next!¡± The tavern-goers¡¯ eyes of anger widened with each consecutive win for Theta. By the time it was over, and everyone was stuck drinking at the tavern, one of the final opponents grabbed him by the collar. ¡°You¡¯ve been cheating! Haven¡¯t you! It¡¯s the only way you could have won this!¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call it cheating,¡± he said. He opened his palm, and Displayed the spectral image of a magenta sigma opened in his hand. ¡°I call it being ¡®unnaturally lucky.¡¯¡± The sigma was a Moon sigma, Luck of the Night, and the whole tavern growled at its reveal. ¡°Now, gentlemen! In the interest of keeping your promises, who¡¯s ready to party!¡± Theta learned that cheating automatically voids any obligations made under those conditions. He also learned that the people of Shamrock didn¡¯t take kindly to wasting their time. After being beaten up by about thirty angry, burly miners, they all left steaming, and Theta had a few crushed ribs and a black eye. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯ve seen them do worse. You¡¯re lucky you¡¯re not an actual criminal,¡± Patricia said, looming over him. She helped the broken man stand. ¡°Come on. We''re generous tonight so the room will be free.¡± Theta laughed and coughed. ¡°Oh, I knew they would do that. I¡¯m not stupid.¡± Debatable. ¡°Really. So how did you benefit from this experience in any way?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like I swindled them out of money. I just wanted to have some fun, and you know what? I did.¡± Petrus shook his head. ¡°Honestly, what would Shamrock do without you.¡± ¡°It would be a lot more peaceful,¡± said Patricia. ¡°Hey, that¡¯s rude!¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get you to bed, Theta.¡± She helped him upstairs, although Theta passed out halfway up the flight. The combination of injuries and alcohol shut his mind off without warning. His face was paralyzed into a smile. With the tavern floor now empty, Petrus set about cleaning the place. When he reached the spot where Theta was assaulted, he noticed some scratches on the floor. An inscription carved by Theta¡¯s excessively long black nails. BLESS THIS TOWN Before closing the tavern, Petrus took a visit to Theta¡¯s room. The man was half his age, but for some reason hearing him snore reminded Petrus of the son he never had. In a whisper, he said, ¡°Thank you Theta. Thank you for being here. Thank you for your spirit.¡± SNNNNNOORRREEE! They were the words Petrus never got to say often. And he knew for a damn fact they were words Theta would hardly ever get to here. The guests with scraped and bloody fists might not view it the same way, but Theta made some friends. God knows he needs some of those. Being a social creature was not a natural skill for him. He sacrificed it long ago. Such was the price of being a self-proclaimed Servant of Humanity.
Luck of the Night - Moon: Alters fate, fortune, and relevant factors in the immediate vicinity to make unconscious decisions towards the benefit of the user. (14777).
  • (A) Only requires a VC to activate. However, if the user is placed into a situation determined mostly or solely by chance, Luck of the Night will automatically activate to benefit the user unless disabled by a VC.
  • Luck of the Night only applies to the user for a maximum of one hour, regardless of whether it was activated by a VC or automatically.
  • This sigma works not by controlling minds, but by altering the scenario and the habits of those involved to make seemingly random choices that are, unbeknownst to them, beneficial to the user.
  • Luck of the Night is an omniscient sigma. However, it only operates for the time it is used and cannot change things out of that time frame.
    • (!) There are many situations where luck is not enough to save the user.
1-24 Return to Order HERA Appendophobia of the head. Until a dam in her willpower broke, the thought of transforming that appendage was enough to give her nightmares. The irony that she was afraid of a Fear sigma was not lost to her. It was odd. Hera didn¡¯t get to see Lena Kurova¡¯s appearance. However, there was minimal tingling with the transformation. She mainly felt shifts in her cheeks and brow. Her hair extended to brush against her upper back and her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Rex called her a doppelganger. Maybe he was right. Crumbling roars and cries of terror. Aspic, now background scenery from their position on the beach, was a moving model of devastation. Even after the threat had ended, the chaos was far from quelled. He was dead now, but Balder Rex¡¯s legacy uprooted the bedrock of this city. Literally and figuratively. The people of Aspic were assholes; Hera finally dared to say that now. They left Berto to die and let Balder and his goons run amok. Even when they put on a painted face all grins and greetings, they were selfish, greedy, callous, conniving schemers at the core of their hearts. Hera hated them, yet they didn¡¯t deserve this. What¡¯s there to hate? In her mind, she described a foul existence of a species, but hating them was too far. After all, what differentiated the people of Aspic from the rest of the world? If she hated them, she hated people, everyone. And when you learn to hate that much, you end up hating nothing at all. It just isn¡¯t worth it. A whiff of sand blew against her ankles, spatters of blood buried among the grains. Zeta¡¯s body lay face down on the shore, immobile, with a slight rise in the chest to signal his vitality. Damn it Zeta! Now she had to carry him out of here. Weren¡¯t things like this supposed to be the other way around? A little crystalline structure bumped against her boot. Oh, how she had seen the tiny little menaces time and time again. Balder Rex¡¯s sigmas scattered around his corpse. Multiple greens, a few blue, and one magenta, the Grand sigma. Aching, Hera picked them all up, tore a little rift in the air, and tossed them in her Pocket Inventory. Huh, It¡¯s almost full. A rare sight, but there was no way she was letting the sigmas sit around unattended. There was something sad about seeing Rex lie in the sand. There was no love lost in his death, yet she couldn¡¯t bring herself to just walk away. Zeta mentioned something about this once. Compassion? Empathy? Why? Rex was a monster. No, he deserved better. Nothing morbid, yet nothing decent. So she made him a grave of sand and rolled him into it, patting the surface to a smooth texture, where the waves could wash over and nourish him. It wouldn¡¯t last, but Hera could not fathom leaving his body to bloat and rot there, regardless of his actions. If necessary, the sea would carry him to hell in time, or wherever else it deemed fit to send him. Next, she attended to the other dead body on the beach. Well, he was still alive, technically, but Hera knew that may not last long. Gently, she slung Zeta¡¯s arm over her shoulder. How the hell are you so heavy? Zeta¡¯s pride, the black sword, lay nearby. Knowing him, another, deadlier demon would terrorize the city if she decided to leave it. Dulled and chipped from the toil of fighting, if someone else found it they¡¯d likely mistake it for a piece of trash. She placed it in Zeta¡¯s sheath anyway. Sentimental value. As Hera started moving, it occurred to her that there was no home to return to, and no doctor for either of them. Where was she to go? Aspic had no laws, it had no protection. It had not changed, yet she kept striding forward. Her route led to an alternative entrance to the docks. With the fighting ended, the citizens slowly returned to begging for the sea to save them. For rescues to swoop down from the autumn evening sky, pluck and drop them in a safer, newer city. Hera ignored them and kept walking, an unconscious savior hoisted on her shoulders. Her first steps on the wooden boardwalk brought her adjacent to the warehouses. She halted in front of Warehouse 6. They still had not repaired a single damn thing. Perforations in the straw roof, bricks and wood chips from the walls scattered at the base of the structure. Yet there was a force that pulled Hera inside. It was warm in there. It mimicked safety, comfort. The days of old. A dried bloodstain centered beneath a ray of what used to be the skylight. She didn¡¯t remember whose it was. It didn¡¯t matter anymore. After exiting out the other side, her body lost all sense of thought. She stared to the horizon and sat Zeta down beside her. Where else was there to gaze? Like the dozens of other desperate Aspic citizens, she also sought a hope that might never arrive. No, that was stupid. It had been a long day. She just wanted some damn sleep. ¡°Drowsiness isn¡¯t productive. You lose profits. I believe it was you who told me that,¡± said a voice that startled her. Hera jolted her head in its direction, eyes widening, ¡°Igel!¡± He smiled. ¡°I was only away for a day, yet I find the streets on top of the roofs and a few abnormally large potholes in the ground. I¡¯d ask you to explain, but I¡¯ll just assume it was that bastard, Rex.¡± ¡°Where have you been?¡± He pointed to the other side of the port, where the hills shadowed the countryside and the shore beyond. ¡°Let¡¯s talk more after you get some rest. They¡¯ll be happy to accommodate you, just don¡¯t be rude.¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Before she received an answer, a steel hull appeared from around the end of the bay. Giant iron behemoths with pointed bows and small cubic heads emerged bearing the flag of a diamond with wings. Tiny specks of men and women dotted the edges of the deck, donning the white garbs of sailors and nurses respectively. Their hardened faces meshed well with the looming structure of the frigates they crewed for.
¡°Berto¡¯s death was the final straw. I grew fed up with Aspic,¡± Igel said. ¡°The lawlessness, the careless status quo, all of it. So I visited the Technocracy¡¯s port authority here and campaigned for them to bring order.¡± ¡°And they listened to you? How did you manage that?¡± Hera asked from the comfort of the ship¡¯s medical bay. The fluffy cot had deep cushions that sucked her arms and legs inside like a void of comfortable suffocation. If only the room didn¡¯t smell like rubbing alcohol and the musk of unwashed crewmen. All her words stuttered as the surroundings were overgrown with strange equipment she had never seen before. Supposedly it was designed to heal her. As far as she knew, the bag of liquid pumping into her arm was poison, and she could do nothing about it except ¡®trust them.¡¯ It was a shame the medical crew on these ships had few Healing sigmas. Their presence in her recovery would put a lot more at ease. ¡°I certainly don¡¯t have any pull with the Technocracy itself, much less their diplomatic representatives here. The top officials were content with the way things worked before as of yesterday. Nevertheless, I planned to beg for their assistance until I starved.¡± Hera frowned with disbelief. ¡°And they conformed to sympathy?¡± ¡°Not exactly. You see, we were the problem, Hera. The Technocracy was growing hostile towards Rex and his organization ever since a particular warehouse exploded and they discovered a bunch of their stolen guns.¡± Hera¡¯s jaw dropped, although she snapped it back up when leaving it hanging proved painful. ¡°As clients, regardless of whether or not they knew about our involvement, our actions are considered Rex¡¯s responsibility in their book. That¡¯s why they haven¡¯t arrested Zeta, you and I for the warehouse, although I caution you not to tell them any stories. They weren¡¯t happy. They wanted him gone. They expected a fight, so they called in reinforcements from the Western Shelf.¡± ¡°Some intuition on their part. Although I doubt even the Technocracy expected this much destruction.¡± Igel shrugged. ¡°I was only gone because I offered to sell out to them and expose all elements of Rex¡¯s organization I had access to. We were working on a deal in the port authority when everything went to shit. Regardless, now that they¡¯ve seen the carnage, the Technocracy is more than willing to bring the city under control, for better or worse. I heard they¡¯re on a manhunt for the mayor who¡¯s been vacationing for a year.¡± ¡°Serves him right for abandoning this place,¡± Hera grumbled. She turned over. Zeta asleep and gargling saliva. Disgusting. At least the medics managed to heal his jaw. Once again, I¡¯m astounded by the medicine they have available aboard here. Igel smiled as he told his story, but a part of him seemed permanently unrelieved. ¡°It won¡¯t bring Berto back, but maybe his pointless death can be made into a martyr for this city¡¯s future health. The world owes him that, even it claims it owes nothing.¡± Berto. That reminded Hera. She opened her Pocket Inventory and pulled out a full Natural Padding set that she retrieved from Rex. ¡°Igel, I want you to have these,¡± she said. ¡°Is that from the Lion? I want nothing to do with him.¡± ¡°Technically, most of these are from Berto. He stole them off his grave.¡± Igel clenched his fist in contempt. She thought he was going to start throwing punches at everything and anything, but the rage passed. ¡°That bastard. Although, with all that has happened, I¡¯m not surprised.¡± Hera urged for Igel to take the sigmas. ¡°Purify them, Igel. When we met Zeta, he said no man can be the strongest sword and shield. Prove otherwise.¡± He chuckled. ¡°Proving that smug idiot wrong would be pretty satisfying, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± He frowned. ¡°Hera, you sound dismissive. Why are you giving these to me as if they are a parting gift?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t quite know,¡± she said. ¡°I¡­need some time to think, but I know for a fact that you want to stay in Aspic, right?¡± ¡°Do you not?¡± Zeta snagged their attention with a loud snore. Dumbass. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m trying to figure out.¡±
It was boring, sitting there for hours with nothing to do and a constant stream of nurses wandering in and out, asking mundane questions like How are you feeling? Or Can you feel anything when I touch here? They¡¯d say, jamming her leg. She¡¯d poke them with Neural Fighter if they didn¡¯t always stay out of reach. Assholes. When no one bothered her, the halls bustled with the loud stampede of crewmen running across the ship. Apparently, reconstruction was an ardent effort, even with all the resources the Technocracy was pulling in from nearby towns to assist. Hera wished she could see the process, but she was stuck below deck in the dark. Zeta had still not woken up. A few hours without his voice was pleasant, but now she really needed someone to talk to. Besides, his continuous snoring grated her ears. She wondered if this was intentional. If it was, she had been practicing some new Neural Fighter techniques. A stationary, unguarded, living target was a perfect test for them. Glass crashed to the floor, and Hera scrambled to sit upright. The darkness obscured a clear view of the cause, but she saw a figure slip into the far room. ¡°Hey! Who the hell are you!¡± she had no ranged attacks, so she grabbed the nearest blunt object. A vase on the nightstand. He came closer. Hera broke into a cold sweat when she saw him. ¡°I thought you would be sleeping soundly,¡± said Terrent Gust, the former Curved Storm. ¡°Guess I was wrong.¡± ¡°Oh, this is just like you, Terrent. Kill a girl while she¡¯s hospitalized.¡± She gestured to Zeta, unstirred by the commotion. ¡°You want revenge?¡± ¡°How petty, Harpy. It¡¯s rude that you would assume that. Revenge? After Rex lost?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not the Harpy! Not anymore. And what reason do you have for me not to assume the worst?¡± Terrent sighed. ¡°Hera, I came to congratulate you.¡± She raised a perplexed eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You win. You are your pet swordsman. You win. Look at me, no scythe. Read me, no sigmas. You win.¡± She read his score and inventory. He sat at a flat zero and did not hide a single sigma in that tiny rift in space. ¡°Your point? Why are you here?¡± He took a seat in the visitor¡¯s chair. ¡°I don¡¯t deserve to live, I think you and I agree on that. But Zeta over there, he didn¡¯t agree. He offered me life, even after everything.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t think much of it. He¡¯s stupid.¡± ¡°Maybe, but maybe not,¡± Terrent said. ¡°There was a bit of genius on his part. In duels, it¡¯s common for a man to lose one sigma if he loses the duel. Zeta forced me to hand them all over. ¡°I have the Divinity. If I wanted to go back and refill my score with new sigma, I can, but- He took something more significant than that, my motivation to pursue them. Even with the Ora Charms of today, the thrill has vanished. Climbing the ladders of the Sigma World from the first rung is unappealing in a society that despises underdogs. To become the Curved Storm, I had to suffer and sacrifice my integrity, my character, until I became a shell of a human being. I don¡¯t want to go through it again. I¡¯m done. ¡°Zeta there, he has the right idea, even if it¡¯s going to smack him in the face more than a few times in the future. If he lives, mercy will come to his aid when he needs it most. He¡¯ll earn it, and he deserves it.¡± ¡°Cut to the damn chase, Terrent!¡± Hera demanded. He laughed. ¡°You sound like Marc. Look, Balder Rex had to die, you all knew that, but there was always a point where his fate could have changed, and Zeta insured that. Crue could have lived as well, but the idiot tried to blow up a building with his dying breath. Me? I¡¯ll enjoy my second chance. It¡¯s not something any judge in this world would have granted me.¡± ¡°So what? Do you want to thank him? Tell him yourself. I don¡¯t think I can forgive you.¡± Terrent shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s sleeping, darling. If you have respect for what he stands for, be a messenger for the times when he is vulnerable.¡± Terrent stood to leave, but Hera spoke up. ¡°So what are you going to do then? I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re leaving Aspic.¡± ¡°Anywhere where sigmas don¡¯t exist. Rare as those places may be. Maybe I¡¯ll farm? Nah, fishing is a better hobby. I¡¯ll stay on Axle Island, away from the world¡¯s troubles.¡± ¡°Whatever. Don¡¯t pollute our homeland with your presence.¡± He raised an eyebrow as he snuck out of the room. ¡°Our homeland? I have to ask, do you mean Aspic? Or the Kapitaal?¡± Her eyes burst open. Terrent couldn¡¯t be talking about-- How the hell did he know! Terrent smirked but said nothing of it. ¡°Goodbye, Hera.¡± She wished she could punch him, but the worthlessness of such an act occurred to her. Strangely, the self-absorbed aura that Terrent used to exude had committed suicide. The man behaved as if he attended a military academy during the past day. Maybe he did. Her fist scratched at her palms. Why did he get a chance to reform? Where was the justice in that! She lay her head against the pillow. For all his talk, only one thing Terrent said stood out to her. One question. Do you have any respect for what he stands for?
Waterski - Liquid, Physical: Allows the user to glide across a liquid surface with enhanced speed. (323).
  • (A) Throw hands behind back while standing on a shallow liquid surface.
    • If trying to use Waterski in a deeper liquid, jump in and throw hands behind back before body is submerged.
  • User will slide across the liquid as if propelled by an unknown force.
  • It is recommended to try and remain still while moving so as not to accidentally disrupt Waterski.
  • Waterski will only continue while user¡¯s feet are in contact with any mild liquid. Friction will quickly apply otherwise.
1-25 Reflection HERA They needed another half day before the doctors deemed Hera fit to walk on her own. Wobbling with a crutch beneath one arm, she wandered the ship aimlessly, lost in the imaginings of prospective futures until some guards clad in strange, lightweight white and sky blue armor told her to stay put somewhere or get off the ship. Energized, sinister-looking rifles at their sides. It turned out her continued residency in the medic bay was a privilege, not a right. Not once had Zeta awakened. His body had accumulated so much fatigue over the past few days that exploded like a pressurized can when the conflicts all ended. It turned out he wasn¡¯t an alien with an incredible physique; he needed rest just like everyone else. Nevertheless, the fact that he was able to save the passing out for a later time was an impressive feat, likely the result of intense and inhumane conditioning. From Zeta¡¯s own personal accounts of Greenwich Mountain, that analysis wasn¡¯t too far off. Seriously, what the hell happened up there? A question for another time, she supposed. Hera spent an hour in her crippled state searching for the surface. She strained to climb the steps but remained determined to see the sun again, even if it was emitting its setting hue by now. The rusting, metallic smell of iron filled her nostrils as she reached the deck, which was now nearly vacant as the crew had all either turned in for the night or gone into the city to relax in the few surviving recreational areas. She imagined the brothel she pretended to work for was a full house tonight. The reconstruction of Aspic remained at an awkward transitioning between containing the chaos and actual infrastructure repair. The smell of brimstone lingered even though all the fires were long extinguished, a pervasive sour sting of salt filled the air. New frigates arrived this morning when the situation in Aspic became more apparent to the Technocracy. Massive Technocrat contraptions were offloaded from the ships and into the city. Already they were employed, with machines lifting floor-sized chunks of rubble into square dumpsters while others rolled over irreparable houses and buildings and others brought forth materials that would be used for replacement structures. They were loud, obnoxious behemoths that spout steam and churned cogs hidden within their frameworks. Somehow that made them pleasant. Maybe it was because that churning was working towards a good cause. Hera imagined what the new skyline of Aspic would look like in a few months. The city was sure to be a different place, that fact was irreversible. But she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if she¡¯d still be around to see it by then? Is it worth it to stay? Regardless, the sight compelled Hera to stand at the ship¡¯s bow. She released her armpit, and the crutch fell to the side. She admitted her injuries were far from grave condition and it was unnecessary. Besides, she wanted to lean against the railing. Even though the ship itself was an iron frigate, the Technocracy still saw it fitting to arm each vessel with a figurehead. The brass outline of a man with flaming hair leaned against the underside of the pointed bow, one hand outstretched as if offering food to the famished. His face was hardened and grim, twisted as if he ate a sour berry. It may have been a dramatic interpretation, but she knew exactly who it depicted. Magnus Ora. She knew her mistake. If Zeta started asking she¡¯d politely tell a lie. From his expression, it was no wonder the man was such a controversial figure. It was no question as to why Zeta hated him. Personally, Hera had no opinion, but she could empathize with both sides. However, Zeta needed to learn not to bring the subject up in every town they crossed. She needed to teach him. They? Teach him? What the hell. Why had she already given up on Aspic? Why was she planning for something that didn¡¯t exist? Bang! The moron was as silent as a cat. As if summoned by her thoughts, Zeta crept to her side and announced himself with a coughing fit. He sick manner had yet to disappear, but there was a warm aura surrounding him, replacing the previous electric beckoning of paranoia and imminent death that he usually wore. Hera questioned nothing as they faced the worn city together. The sun lit the countryside as a suitable background, briefly washing away all the destruction of their picturesque view, a yellow dial dominating the horizon. ¡°You¡¯re up early,¡± Zeta said meekly. ¡°You¡¯re up late. It¡¯s been over a day,¡± she replied. ¡°Guess I got lost in a dream.¡± A great sorrow sat upon his shoulders like the ghost of a burden. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She raised an eyebrow, staring at the street where her home used to be, now a pile of splinters. ¡°For this? This is far from your fault.¡± ¡°No. This is just a part of it. I¡¯m the problem. I drag trouble with me.¡± Hera gave him a light shove. It may have been a mistake as neither of them was in a condition to withstand a significant force. ¡°Idiot. Now you realize that? Zeta, the path you laid out for yourself only leads one way, and this is the baggage you must bring. Didn¡¯t you know that when you left that mountain? Greenwich?¡± He sighed. ¡°To tell the truth, I haven¡¯t laid any path at all. Sir Kagan did. He offered his years to construct the ¡®Servant of Humanity.¡¯ I¡¯d disgrace the dead if I turned away from what he wanted for me.¡± ¡°Wait, so your philosophy isn¡¯t your own? This path wasn¡¯t your choice? Are there other¨C¡± The questions flooded out before she stopped to analyze if they were worth asking. He grinned. ¡°All can be answered in time.¡± She raised an eyebrow. ¡°In time?¡± Zeta leaned on the railing, resting his aching body and gazing to the torn city. ¡°I¡¯ll answer the first one. Yes and no. Sir Kagan laid the foundation, but the crops each of us grew were our own decision. ¡®Life is a game of luck, but sometimes we have a degree of choice over the chances,¡¯ he used to say. Granted, I personally believe Sir Kagan himself had the purest interpretation of the concept. Yes, he was the founder, but he was also right.¡± ¡°What are you getting at?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be blunt. Living on a mountain for twenty years, I underestimated everything. I have no idea how this world works, yet I want to heal it. I have to heal it, to honor Sir Kagan¡¯s legacy. I would have failed had I not met you.¡± Hera raised her nose. She took care to not let the pride swell in her head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad you understand that.¡± ¡°My sword is dull, and I hardly used it. It needs sharpening, but I¡¯m not a blacksmith. Someone else has to fix it whenever it breaks, or when it needs correction. There are parts of reality that a mountain boy like me cannot comprehend. No amount of books or hearsay can trump experience. It¡¯s a shame that experience in this career comes at the gamble of my life. ¡°I¡¯d rather have an anchor. Someone who knows what they¡¯re doing, and despite coming from a different background in another environment in a completely different city, I want their respect. I also want them to respect this world and all its flaws. I want them to respect humanity, my glorious master.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Annoying. ¡°Stop dancing around the topic and say it. You want me to help you. Not just here in Aspic, but¡­ What? Do you want a sidekick?¡± He didn¡¯t pass her a glance. Reading his body language, which shied away and reddened, she assumed the answer was yes. Hera scoffed. ¡°That¡¯s quite a serious proposal. Asking me to just uproot everything and chase some stranger who constantly has one foot in the grave. I¡¯m astonished you dare to ask me that, Zeta. Just look at me right now,¡± she gestured to her bandages, ¡°this is what I am after working with you.¡± He sighed. ¡°I expected you to say that. I¡¯m sorry for bringing it up.¡± ¡°I never refused, idiot.¡± He went white with perplexion. She laughed. Oh, how it felt good to do so sincerely. No mockery, no humiliation, no insanity, just laughter for laughter¡¯s sake. Rejuvenating. ¡°I ran here years ago, and somewhere along the way, I forgot the soul of my stay here was the product of that escape. Aspic is nothing but a safe space for someone like me. I was cocooned here, but a lame butterfly emerged, with no care about anything or anyone except how much money she could make in the next week. Then the week after that, and after that, and you get the point. You might have ignited a fire, Zeta, but it¡¯s not your fault that this city was made of timber. ¡°I don¡¯t have a home to return to, both literally and figuratively. If I moved onto this ship this very second, it would be a seamless transition, for I have nothing but my soul and my body. What good are those if I let them rot away? I won¡¯t help you, Zeta, I can do better.¡± She raised her fingers to quotations and imitated his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll be a Servant of Humanity.¡± Apparently, it was just what he wanted to hear. Zeta probably didn¡¯t even realize that until his ears registered the words. After almost fainting, Zeta relapsed with joy. ¡°You¡¯re serious?¡± She smacked him on the head. Friendly. Gentle. ¡°Of course I am! Honestly, it shouldn¡¯t even be a question. If I let you leave her alone, you won¡¯t survive crossing the sea.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­reassuring?¡± ¡°Besides, you can¡¯t refuse a debtor when they try to pay what they owe. The merchant¡¯s golden rule and you definitely don¡¯t want to get on the bad side of a businesswoman. I only feel the compulsion to see the world because of your boasting. The least I can do is ensure you don¡¯t die by throwing yourself into the viper¡¯s pit.¡± He smiled. ¡°I¡¯m ashamed to have to admit it so early in my journey. When I arrived here several days ago, I imagined Aspic as the greatest city in the world. However, now, it seems so small. In a way, you¡¯ve already paid that debt off, Hera. I¡¯ve been saved from dangers that haven¡¯t even been conceived.¡± All she could do was shake her head. Zeta was right in admitting his naivety, yet he had no desire to cure it. The thought of the greater world fascinated him, and in a way it was¡­ Charming. ¡°There¡¯s so much you don¡¯t know, Zeta. Tell me, have you ever met one of the other races. The Vampires, Dwarves, or Giants? Have you seen a Demon breach Hell to enter our world? Do you know its history or its culture? I know you¡¯re eager to see everything, but have you ever stopped to consider what it will all be for? Zeta, what do you want to do.¡± ¡°I want to go to the Selatin.¡± His answer was straightforward, recited. ¡°That¡¯s step one. I¡¯ll figure out where to go from there.¡± Hera shivered. If the mention of Magnus Ora was Zeta¡¯s taboo, then the Selatin Kingdom was Hera¡¯s. At least she didn¡¯t go berserk and try to cut his head off. ¡°Maybe wait a while, okay?¡± she said in a sweet tone. ¡°Also, it is the role of a Servant of Humanity to play to his or her master''s ultimate whims. It''s impossible to please millions of people with the same act,¡± he pointed to the beach where Balder Rex died. ¡°As proven, but that is why I must search to solve the conflicts that everyone cares about. Hera, what do you think Humanity unanimously desires.¡± Not wanting to ponder deeply on such a broad yet complex question, she spat out the first thing to come to mind. ¡°World Peace.¡± Ugh, what a boring answer. Zeta nodded with a wry grin. ¡°Precisely. Such a task is an insurmountable challenge, something that no single man can achieve. Nevertheless, I¡¯ll dedicate my life toward that goal, it doesn¡¯t matter what as long as it¡¯s what my master wants. If Humanity wanted nothing but utter chaos, I¡¯d show my support by behaving as Balder Rex did to Aspic.¡± ¡°Morality isn¡¯t a factor?¡± ¡°No, but I think both of us should be glad that the world isn¡¯t completely insane. Although that might be up for debate.¡± ¡°Do you have a plan for this pipe dream?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± he said. Zeta¡¯s eyes went without blinking as he said the next words without hesitation. ¡°I¡¯m going to collect all the Magnum sigmas. Take them from the hands of the dangerous and put them to use for the good of humanity. Even if the only good thing about them is that they¡¯re locked away.¡± That was it. A dam broke. Suddenly Hera felt like she stepped on a landmine and the door shut behind her. There was no way Zeta could be genuine. The Servant of Humanity position seemed to have highly questionable intent. ¡°Zeta, that¡¯s impossible! Please don¡¯t tell me you actually plan to pursue that goal! People have spent whole lifetimes trying to accumulate the Divinity needed to wield a Magnum sigma. Hell, its the biggest reason there aren¡¯t mass sigma hoarders these days. Everyone dreams of owning one, but two? Not even a fairy tale could make up something that ridiculous.¡± She expected him to respond with hostility. Instead, his gaze was cold, yet not cruel. ¡°Aren¡¯t you forgetting something, Hera? The world is changing.¡± He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small yellow bead akin to the one Hera wore around her neck. An Ora Charm. She wanted to continue the argument, but the energy was lost. In fact, it had been converted to the opposition. It was ridiculous, impossible¡­ But who cared? Her house was destroyed. Aspic was crumbling, and she had nothing but her injuries, her sigmas, and the stranger beside her. No, he wasn¡¯t a stranger. He was Zeta, a Servant of Humanity. A model human being. A moral luxury of high dreams and bitter realities. Everything in that life was based on chance. However, if an element of luck is involved, there is an option to win. So why not go for it? What did she have left to lose? ¡°Fine,¡± she said, ¡°but I want some Magnums too if we find them.¡± ¡°When we find them.¡± ¡°Whatever.¡± He started to laugh. The sun on the horizon was now a thin arch barely squirming above the countryside trees. Starlight replaced the sky, bright and gorgeous with beholding. When it wasn¡¯t filled with monster and explosions, the dark of the night was beautiful. ¡°Maybe we can manage with a few other people,¡± Zeta said, his voice mellowing out with exhaustion. ¡°Hera, I¡¯m thankful that you¡¯ll assist the cause, but are you sure you¡¯re not leaving anything behind?¡± ¡°No. Nothing that I think I need to keep around. There¡¯s Igel, but¡­we don¡¯t need each other anymore, and I think he knows that as well. Technically he summoned this fleet, you know.¡± ¡°Really?¡± She nodded. ¡°Igel needs Aspic more than I do. He¡¯s a Servant of Humanity in his own right and probably the perfect fit to stay in this city. Unlike me, he was born here. I¡¯ll part ways with him properly.¡± ¡°That¡¯s excellent to hear.¡± A wave of crewmen flooded out of the ships, receiving an evening¡¯s bell to assist reconstruction efforts. Zeta and Hera paused in silence, resting their broken bodies on the ironclad ship. The mere existence of such a titanic behemoth was a frightening yet awesome prospect to what Hera might see in the wider world. She accused Zeta of knowing nothing about the Sigma World, and though at first, she refused to admit it¡­ She wanted to know more about that world too.
Complete Collapse - Devastation: Contact with any large structure, namely a statue, building, or machine, will cause the targeted structure to break down into its worn components and beyond repair. (9150).
  • (A) Apply suitable force like a push or pull to a part of the targeted structure.
  • Applicable structures are classified as having a fixed foundation or a mass greater than 2000 kg.
    • Must be abiotic.
  • Works at best when applied to a support of some kind.
  • (!) Bringing the house down on top of the user does not guarantee the user¡¯s safety.
1-26.1 Mysteries, Part One HERA Her first task with a new start was to run an errand. Hera didn¡¯t know if that was an omen about her choice of future. For the first time, she was the one wielding Black Meridian, Zeta¡¯s sword. She took care to memorize the name. For all the flaws of its owner, it was without a doubt a high-quality blade. Sleek, obsidian black with an elegant shine that complemented its dark, patterned hilt. It deserved a name, and she was glad it had one. Zeta had no qualms with placing it in her care, which she supposed was a sign of the trust he gave her about the whole ¡®Servant of Humanity¡¯ deal. Hmm, maybe this errand isn¡¯t an omen at all. Regardless of the state of Black Meridian, it had undoubtedly been through an ordeal. Little chips plagued the black steel, the tiny teeth missing its jagged, lethal brethren. Dirt and blood had dried on the handle, and some stains could not be cleaned off with a simple rag. The porous dents in the sword seeped with filth as if it were sewage swept off the streets and into the gutters. It needed a blacksmith for analysis and repair. Thankfully, Hera knew one, so the sword was given to her while Zeta searched for a means to the Selatin Kingdom. She still wasn¡¯t comfortable with heading to that destination, but she was even less comfortable with telling Zeta why. Hera planned to endure and promised to herself that society there had changed. Unfortunately, she had a gut feeling she would end up disappointed. The medics were eager to dismiss them from the ship. Hera couldn¡¯t blame them. While its fun to be tended for and it makes the healer¡¯s heart feel well to help another, it becomes tiresome when you stick around too long. It didn¡¯t help that Zeta consumed half the steak rations onboard the ship. Hera still couldn¡¯t fathom how that was possible. Never before had she seen a monster devour charred flesh so fast as Zeta gobbled down the steak. They had only been incapacitated for several days total, yet Hera was sure Zeta did more harm than good to the relief supplies in that short tenure. Wandering through Aspic was a depressing affair. While the sight of reconstruction was supposed to bring Hera hope, she became a quick witness to the reality of Rex¡¯s devastation. Almost nothing was spared. Even if a building didn¡¯t topple, it was likely to be missing a second floor. Street and sidewalk features, once standing upright and unblemished, now had bends like elders suffering from scoliosis. Some streets were relatively okay, and the populace had returned, albeit reluctantly. However, there was an overall atmosphere of regret and despair. Passing Phil¡¯s Sigma Shop, she frowned. The uniform diamond, the universal symbol for sigmas, was fractured as if it were personally blasted with a cannonball. A chunk of rock had smashed the upper floors, and the debris cluttered the shop floor. All the inventory had either disappeared or been destroyed. Apparently, some rioting broke out in the latter half of the chaos. The man himself sat outside the front door, his soul beaten and his head collapsed into his knees. Hera offered her condolences while also explained her immediate departure. It was something he needed to know. She was one of his biggest clients. It pained Hera to offer worse news atop of everything he already lost, and she imagined he¡¯d be angry, but he took it well. Phil¡¯s street was her favorite, mostly because she was acquainted with pretty much everyone there. Yes, for ¡®business¡¯ reasons. Weapons were rarely her interest, but there was an excellent smith at the end of this street. When she arrived, she saw to her disappointment that the smith had not been spared the rod of wrath. However, it was not a complete wreck of despair. Half of the shop (and his home) had crumbled into nothing, but the other half (the forge itself) remain intact down to every mite of dust. An unquestionable miracle for his business. Outside, there he was, hammering away as if nothing had ever happened while embers skimmed across his callused hands and unkempt facial hair. Like his neighbors, he had succumbed to the city¡¯s gloom. ¡°Oh, hello Harpy,¡± he said over his shoulder as she approached. ¡°It¡¯s Hera now, Leikwel.¡± ¡°Dropped the codename? Figures. I¡¯m surprised to see you alive. I thought all of Rex¡¯s people were dead or arrested.¡± Hera put a finger up, her eyes in a panicked state to shut him up. ¡°Please don¡¯t refer to me as such. I¡¯d rather not be incarcerated. I know we haven¡¯t spoken in a while, but I left Balder¡¯s hell shortly before this city went to hell.¡± He chuckled. His face brightened. ¡°I¡¯d call it luck, but you are a Mind focus, so I¡¯m not surprised you made the smart move.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± She held up Black Meridian. ¡°I¡­made an acquaintance recently, and he¡¯s a better partner than Rex ever was. His sword has dulled, can you sharpen it?¡± ¡°Hah! Can I sharpen it? Hera, don¡¯t make me retract that comment about your intelligence.¡± He snatched the blade and examined it up and down. His eyes widened. ¡°Hmm? A model from the Eastern Shelf? God damn, this is a great piece of work! Your partner is no mere soldier, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to tell me,¡± she said. ¡°Although, maybe he could treat the blade with some better care? Thing looks like it cut up the city by itself.¡± In a way, it kind of did. Of course, Hera kept her mouth shut. ¡°Smith¡¯s Scanner,¡± Leikwel said. His eyes glowed gray as he examined the sword with a special blacksmith-based sigma that performed automatic weapon appraisals. A Craft type, no less. It¡¯s why Hera considered him the best in the city. He raised an eyebrow, furrowing his thick, brown mustache. ¡°Strange. Smith¡¯s Scanner is obstructed somehow. Read.¡± ¡°Is there something wrong?¡± Hera asked. His eyes stopped glowing, but they remained pried open. ¡°Not necessarily wrong, but definitely odd. Have you ever Read the sword yourself?¡± ¡°Read the sword? Why would I do that? Read is meant for Sigmas, Scores, and Inventories.¡± This was basic knowledge to everyone except this sword¡¯s dumbass owner. Read Sigma, Read Score, and Read Inventory were all apart of the Standard Set. ¡°Just do it, please.¡± Hera shut her eyes and opened them to Read Black Meridian. What!The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. An empty frame filled her vision, a gray background. It was the same frame used when reading sigmas, except this one was absent of text. Whether reading a person or a sigma, that should never happen. ¡°What on¡­¡± she trailed off. ¡°Did your partner ever mention where he acquired this sword?¡± ¡°Partially, although I don¡¯t know the details. I think he inherited it from his master.¡± Hera shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s so strange. It¡¯s as if the sword is registered as a sigma¨C¡± ¡°But the details are missing. It¡¯s moments like now where I wish we knew more about sigmas as a whole. I¡¯d call it an error in the system, except I¡¯ve never known a sigma to fail,¡± Leikwel said. ¡°I¡¯ll ask him about it sometime. We¡¯ve agreed not to share too much with each other so soon. It¡¯s healthier that way.¡± Hera said. ¡°Be careful that you do, Hera. He may be hiding something, and that something may be sinister. I¡¯d be wary of your partner if he doesn¡¯t mention this on his own.¡± ¡°Okay¡­thanks for the advice.¡± That was just the problem, however. She trusted Zeta, and she doubted that even he was aware of what the sword was. Until last week, he couldn¡¯t even employ a sigma. ¡°Regardless, can it be fixed?¡± ¡°Of course, Hera. However, forgive me if I sound old, but mysterious blades are red flags to work with. If you want me to sharpen this, I¡¯m charging extra, even for an old friend.¡± She opened her pouch and sighed. To pay Leikwel would take most of what she had left. According to her idiot partner, they would have ¡®no trouble with money¡¯ in this career, but every string of rational thought told her otherwise. Zeta, you owe me for this!
Before Hera returned to the docks, she decided to pass through her street. The area was the root of Balder¡¯s campaign of devastation, and hardly any of it had proper repair, so it was vacant and silent, absent of the living and filled with pale memories and shattered fates. Walking down the street was like walking through a latent minefield. Hera¡¯s neck hairs raised as if the idle cobblestone rubble would roll over her as she glanced away. The quiet did not suit the street. It had only been several years, yet nostalgia flooded her sense as she wandered through the ruin. An onset of blue settled with her to see the quaint sector destroyed. As she reached her former home, the sadness grew worse like an increase in gravity tugging on her emotions, until finally, the house itself came into view¡­as smithereens. Even residual lines of gray smoke lingered, wafting their heat Hera¡¯s way. What would Mrs. Olgue think if she came home to this? Then she noticed a torn shaft of wood fly out of the rubble, trailed with sawdust. Distinct clangs rang through the quiet from her home. The small shadow of a figure on the downstairs floor sifted and morphed as it moved with the individual, whom Hera assumed was scrounging for valuables. A looter. How pathetic. She crept closer, intent to scare the scavenger away. Hera knew that the people were desperate, but that didn¡¯t excuse resorting to savage behaviors. Well, maybe she could forgive them. After all, she didn¡¯t own the house, she never did, and would it really hurt to make use of lost supplies no one would be expected to return for? Of course it does! Some of that stuff is mine! She caught wind of the hooded figure and whistled to snag its attention. If they were hostile, she imagined she could handle them. However, the figure turned her way, and Hera stopped cold when she saw the face beneath the hood. ¡°Mrs. Olgue!¡± she said aloud. Her neighbor, shrouded in a brown cloak, paused in trembling fear. Olgue¡¯s eyes widened before she darted away from Hera in a nimble sprint. ¡°Hey, wait!¡± Olgue ignored her, attempting to slip into the alleys and wreckage that cluttered the town. Hera refused to let her get away, although she couldn¡¯t understand how the woman was so damn swift at her age. ¡°Where have you been?¡± she asked. No answer. The brown cloak bothered Hera. It was definitely familiar. Could she be¡­? No, that didn¡¯t make sense. The figure who saved them in the sewer was a man. In fact, she still wanted to thank him for that, even if she didn¡¯t understand why he maintained Chilling Presence at all times of the day. Eventually, the pursuit abandoned the desolate ruins of Hera¡¯s street and returned to an active population. Hera was shocked to know that she hadn¡¯t lost the woman yet. There was an anomaly about her neighbor, however. It was definitely Mrs. Olgue, yet¡­was it? Something about her didn¡¯t look right. The crowds grew thicker. Damn! She ran into a refugee camp. The reconstruction efforts repurposed functioning areas of the city to accommodate more residents, so naturally, these areas had a denser populace for the time being. It was too easy to let Olgue get away, and Hera lost sight of her. Hera shifted through the crowd, yet couldn¡¯t find Mrs. Olgue. Ugh! She wanted to tear her skin off in frustration. Why was her neighbor running? Did she not recognize Hera? What the hell is going on! Fortune had not abandoned Hera, and with some luck, she saw the brown cloak¡¯s shadow pass through the alley. Hera did not hesitate to resume pursuit. She¡¯d solve this mystery even if it were the last thing she did in Aspic. Hera peeked around the corner, and she saw Mrs. Olgue paranoid, glancing every which way for her. Hera took care not to be ¡®noticed¡¯ anymore, leaving Mrs. Olgue in ambiguous uncertainty. Okay, not screwing this up again. Follow Nat quietly. Carefully, she trailed Mrs. Olgue through Aspic. Hera¡¯s eyes were locked to the back of the woman¡¯s head, ignorant of everything else. Which is why she bumped into a man headfirst, and he seemed to be searching for her. ZETA ¡°Oh, there you are, Hera!¡± Zeta said. ¡°Shh!¡± she hissed, pointing down the road. ¡°Not within earshot!¡± Zeta followed her gaze to a brown-cloaked individual down the road. Whoever they are, they were awfully suspicious. ¡°Are you after her? Why?¡± ¡°That¡¯s my neighbor. The one who''s been missing!¡± ¡°Oh! Her! The one whose room I borrowed. I know she¡¯s your friend and all, but you really need to tell her to lay off the makeup.¡± Hera ignored him, her eyes laser-focused on her target, a stalking predator in a public space. Zeta¡¯s mouth split into a mischievous grin. ¡°Have you tried saying ¡®hello?¡¯¡± ¡°Shut up, or I¡¯m going to lose her! Follow me if you must.¡± He adopted Hera¡¯s crouched pose and crept through the city as they trailed the brown cloaked neighbor. Zeta needed to explain to Hera that drawing eyes the way they currently were doing did not equate to ¡®stealth.¡¯ It reminded him of another matter. ¡°How¡¯s Black Meridian?¡± Without looking at him nor saying a word, she passed his prized blade back to him. Nice and polished. All the dents were smoothened, the dirt cleansed. The teeth drew blood from the slightest contact with skin. His eyes widened in a glassy ecstasy ¡°Beautiful,¡± he said, joyful tears welling in the corneas. Their pursuit continued for a short while until finally, the neighbor stopped near the warehouses at the docks. She itched in angst as she checked every direction around her from heaven to hell. Nobody was around, at least visibly anyway, except for her. A man stepped from the shadows, donning a similar brown cloak and a greedy grin of ill intent. Both Zeta and Hera went pale at his familiar sight. They had wondered about the brown cloak Hera¡¯s neighbor wore, but now the knot had tightened. They were barely in range of the man''s Chilling Presence.
Smith''s Scanner - Craft: Provides the user a detailed, expert analysis of the physical condition of any weapon as well as the state of the materials it is primarily composed of. (64).
  • (A) Simply use the VC while analyzing the target weapon.
  • The physical presence of the target weapon is required. Images and drawings will not suffice.
  • Smith''s Scanner provides a full appraisal of a weapon. It reports the state of the various parts, the absence of certain parts, the estimated age and the estimated value of any conventional weapon.
  • (!) If a weapon is unconventional in either form or function, Smith''s Scanner will not work. Such weapons should be appraised traditionally by an experienced smith.
1-26.2 Mysteries, Part Two ZETA ¡°Well, Natalie, were you followed?¡± asked the cloaked man. ¡°Yes, for a while, Mr. Vagos. I apologize, but she saw me. Thankfully, I lost her in the markets,¡± replied Mrs. Olgue. ¡°I see.¡± He scanned the area, and Zeta and Hera pressed against the wall of their hiding place. ¡°Natalie? I always called her Nat. And why does she sound livelier?¡± Hera whispered. ¡°Very well. Now that our business is concluded, I suppose your reward is just,¡± Vagos said. He reached into his cloak, and Natalie¡¯s eyes brightened with glee. Vagos pulled out a purple cored sigma, a Grand sigma. ¡°It took a while to ship to me, but I have it. A gift from the Pillar of Life.¡± ¡°Finally!¡± Natalie said as she took the sigma. She took it from his hands and embraced it, caressing it like a cat found astray from its mother, in need of the gentle warmth of a maternal figure. ¡°Youth¡­¡± she mumbled in strange, dazed lunacy. ¡°Yes. In its entirety,¡± said Vagos. ¡°No more of those partial aging reversals that last less than a week. You¡¯re body and mind will be as blessed to the age twenty-five once more.¡± Mrs. Olgue employed the sigma, and Zeta watched in amazement as the wrinkles on her skin smoothed out. Her hair filled with lush color and nutrition, the gray threads of decaying strands vanishing. Her curves returned to a profound definition. All traces of the elderly woman had disappeared, and a younger one stood in her place, a restored artifact of a past age. She ran to the edge of the docks and cried upon seeing her reflection in the water. It reminded Zeta of some story from myth, although for the life of him he couldn¡¯t remember the title. Sorry, Sir Kagan, another instance where I learned nothing from your lectures. Although, if he could recall any element of that tale, the ending was tragic. His gut sank with that memory. Nevertheless, he continued to watch. ¡°Natalie, I received your last report and read it thoroughly,¡± Vagos said while she fawned over her image. ¡°You¡¯ve determined that the Harpy will not be a valuable addition to the disciples of Ms. Kurova?¡± Kurova. There was that name again. The Pillar of the Mind. Hera¡¯s apparent doppelganger. Mrs. Olgue nodded but paid no glance to Vagos. ¡°It¡¯s a shame then. Unfortunately, you¡¯ve made ties with the Harpy, and as a potential Operative, you must cut them. Do you have a plan to kill her?¡± ¡°I did,¡± she said wistfully, her eyes locked on the makeshift mirror. ¡°But it¡¯s ruined now that she saw me.¡± ¡°I understand. These things happen with the inexperienced. Given normal circumstances, I would have helped you come up with a solution.¡± Olgue faced him in shock. ¡°Given normal circumstances?¡± Vagos raised his hand, and suddenly the sea water rose and wrapped around her arms and legs, hugging tightly. ¡°Sea Bind.¡± Mrs. Olgue screamed as she was dragged off the dock and toward the surface of the water. ¡°But you see, in your ignorance, you were tracked. You useless bitch.¡± ¡°Mrs. Olgue!¡± Hera cried, running out of cover and to the scene. It was too late, for Vagos dragged her beneath the sea. Bubbles were all that was left. The purple-cored Life sigma popped out of the water and landed at Vagos¡¯s feet, the sign that its user had perished. Vagos snatched it up. All sigmas at or above the Grand grade only had one copy. It would be incredibly foolish to leave them lying around. Vagos¡¯s menacing gaze shifted to Hera, who stood in the open in a horrified sweat. ¡°There you are, Harpy. Since you¡¯re here, I¡¯ll assume the swordsman is around as well.¡± No point in hiding anymore. Zeta exited cover and faced Vagos while Hera ran to the edge of the dock, reaching into the water as if there might be a chance of saving her neighbor. The woman may have spied on her, but Hera had a heart. Even if it was put towards a vain attempt, there was compassion. Empathy. She¡¯s going to be an excellent Servant of Humanity. Unfortunately, Hera fell into Vagos¡¯s Sea Bind trap, and water wrapped around her arm before she could pull away, yet he didn¡¯t tug yet. ¡°Hey! Let her go! Who are you?¡± Zeta demanded. Vagos smirked. ¡°Jorn Vagos, a Pentagon Operative. Assignment: Aspic. Technically I shouldn¡¯t tell you that, but I doubt it¡¯s going to matter momentarily. There¡¯s no need to introduce yourself. I know full well who the two of you are.¡± ¡°The Pentagon?¡± Zeta asked. The name didn¡¯t ring a bell, but for Hera it did. She was sweating in terror as she tried to release the water tendril from around her leg to no success. ¡°You''re with them? Here? So Rex wasn¡¯t speaking nonsense!¡± ¡°Balder Rex has no affiliation with us,¡± Vagos said. ¡°One thing in your bravado was correct, Harpy of Aspic. The fool had no chance with the mistress of the Mind.¡± ¡°You were watching our fight?¡± Zeta asked. His head was swirling with questions and injected with emotions ranging from confusion to anger. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you step in to help? Better yet, why did you save us and then just disappear!¡± Vagos shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s my duty to gather all kinds of information, especially on potential threats. I freed the two of you from the sewer because the Harpy was on my radar. After all the effort I¡¯ve given to her, the last thing I needed was for her to die by drowning in that disgusting place.¡± ¡°Me?¡± The terror in her expression only increased. Hera¡¯s forehead was glassed with sweat. Loos strands of her hair fell above her eye returning the bangs she once had before Zeta cut them off. ¡°What interest am I to you people! What do you want?¡± When Hera pulled on the water tightly, he released her, letting her stumble and fall. ¡°Careful not to pry where you aren¡¯t wanted,¡± said Vagos. ¡°I am a spy, or at least partially. You both did a good job slaying the so-called Lion, and I commend you, but that hardly goes a long way.¡± ¡°Answer me!¡± ¡°Does it matter? Unless you¡¯re willing to hand over your sigmas and forget I ever spoke to you, Harpy, I¡¯m going to kill you. You¡¯re in Mrs. Kurova¡¯s way.¡± Zeta unsheathed Black Meridian. The sharpened edge glimmered, and he grew jittery with eagerness to test it. ¡°Absolutely not! You will not come near Hera!¡± ¡°First Rex, now you. What the hell do you want with my sigmas!¡± Hera asked as she backed away.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°You share a focus with the Pillar of the Mind, so unless you¡¯re willing to be her servant, which my late mole deemed you unfit to do,¡± Vagos gestured to Olgue¡¯s drowning, ¡°such a condition has become inconvenient.¡± Hera took several angry breaths. ¡°Lena Kurova again. She¡¯s already a powerful Mind sigma user. What the hell does that have to do with me!¡± ¡°Powerful is not enough for the Pillars,¡± Vagos explained. ¡°It¡¯s not just Ms. Kurova. We are implementing a mass call for all their sigma focuses. Matter. Mind. Deceit. Light, and Life. No one outside the Pentagon shall possess their power. That is the order, and I will enforce their wishes.¡± ¡°Not going to happen,¡± Zeta declared, zipping in for his first strike. He aimed for Vagos¡¯s head. Vagos clasped his hands together. ¡°Body of Water.¡± Zeta¡¯s sword cut through a liquid as Vagos¡¯s form collapsed into water that slipped into the sea. A moment later, a titan of water emerged in his place. A behemoth, with Vagos sitting at its heart. ¡°Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect! Trident Spears!¡± He tossed his hands like a javelin, and the liquid behemoth fired several massive projectiles from its form. They bombarded the docks with more devastation, the last thing Aspic needed. A booming noise consumed the area, and Zeta leaped backward as they destroyed the local warehouses. Wooden splinters dominated the airspace. Cobblestones functioned like pebbles fired from cannons. The dust of torn mortar and smoke obscured Zeta''s vision and tickled his lungs. At the end of the barrage, he hardly made it out of the way. I¡¯m ready to fight again, but this is something else entirely! Hera grabbed him. ¡°Zeta! No! Not this suddenly. There¡¯s no way we¡¯re going to win as we are!¡± He wanted to argue, but then he saw the titanic form Vagos adopted and realized how she could not be more right. Vagos readied another barrage of projectiles, tossing them from his avatar as if they were extra limbs severed and regrown with ease. The three-pronged spear of water dug at the docks like a shovel excavating dirt. Only, this dirt was civilization, yet here Vagos was making it his playground. Cannons roared in the distance as actual artillery began to land in the area. At first, Zeta and Hera thought Vagos had brought a fleet with him, and their hearts sank once more. However, this was the Technocracy, and Vagos was the target. Apparently, they didn¡¯t appreciate the further chaos he was creating. The cannon fire tore through parts of Vagos¡¯s titan, and it was evident even he was outmatched. He shifted the water of his form to place gently place him on the docks. Vagos faced them with a scowl. ¡°Congratulations on stalling, Hera Verdure. However, don¡¯t mistake me. I¡¯ll come back to kill you and your friend, and any soul you speak my name to will perish as well. Know that anywhere you go, the Pentagon is watching you. They have been for several years.¡± Before cannons destroyed the portion of docks he was standing on, Vagos leaped into the sea. The frigates tried to follow him, but in the water, Vagos was the world¡¯s fastest fish. With sigma enhancements, he swam to the ocean¡¯s horizon within minutes; he possessed enough stamina to reach the other shore. The port was demolished, ravaged by a war in the course of seconds. Zeta and Hera were in stunned silence until forces from the Technocracy swarmed the area, initiating quarantine and reconstruction efforts. The frigates formed a blockade on the coast. ¡°Hera, I know we agreed to tell each other about the world on a sporadic basis, but I think this is an excellent time to inform me on whatever the hell the Pentagon is.¡± ¡°I¡¯m astonished that you would give us a ship, Igel!¡± Hera said. They found Igel while rushing up and down the port searching for someone planning a transport out of Aspic. They needed to get out of Aspic as fast as possible, but unfortunately no ship available planned to travel to the Selatin Kingdom. And all the ones returning to New Kellus were expected to stick around for several more weeks. ¡°Eh. Don¡¯t thank me yet. Wait until you see it! You two will have it all for yourself.¡± ¡°What! That¡¯s amazing!¡± He took them to a massive frigate, likely the biggest in the harbor. This is what Igel acquired? Taking it from Aspic almost felt like theft considering the city¡¯s current state. Since they didn¡¯t have a crew, sailing to the Selatin Kingdom would be impossible, but maybe they could get to the Western Shelf and try their luck there. Unfortunately, that is the direction that Vagos was swimming. Hera was terrified of that prospect, and Zeta was as well. However, a part of him didn¡¯t mind if they soon crossed paths. He was eager for a better challenge. Hera told him snippets about the Pentagon, but all were from an incoherent, garbled mess. He stopped asking and instead opted to calm her down. Being ¡®targeted¡¯ by this group really upset her nerves. Apparently, the Pentagon ¡®didn¡¯t exist,¡¯ at least not formally. Everyone knew they were around, but no one dared to admit that fact, not even in a private space. All that was spoken of was mere speculation and conjecture. The man they met, Vagos, was an Operative, a rumored figure that is stationed in a specific city around the world with the goal of preventing threats to the Pentagon and taking care of ¡®local matters.¡¯ Zeta shivered at the thought. That was all he could extract from Hera. Hera nearly drooled as she glanced up towards the vacant frigate. ¡°Holy¨C. Igel, are you sure it¡¯s okay for us to use this? It¡¯s kind of¡­big.¡± Igel seemed puzzled for a moment, then he burst out laughing. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s rich! You think I mean the big one. Nah.¡± He pointed next to the ship, to a tiny sailboat with a withered white flag and a questionable quality of wood. ¡°There¡¯s your ship. Bon voyage.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t miss you,¡± Hera said with a frown. ¡°It will have to do,¡± Zeta said. They boarded the ship, and a wave of sentimentality washed over Zeta. Leaving Aspic so suddenly prevented him from cherishing the city¡¯s value, even if others would argue it had none. ¡°You¡¯re not going to question my departure?¡± Hera asked Igel. He shook his head. ¡°When we spoke a few days ago, I could sense what you were planning, and I accepted it. It¡¯s best this way. Aspic is my home, always is, and always will be. I may not be that smart, but I sense that you need to be elsewhere Hera. Do the world proud.¡± Tears welled in her eyes almost immediately, like she had been holding back a waterfall for some time now. She ran up to Igel and hugged him tightly before climbing aboard the tiny ship. ¡°And you,¡± Igel continued, glaring at Zeta. ¡°From what I hear, she¡¯s taken up your cause. If you lead her astray, I will find you and kill you. And is she dies before you do¨C¡± ¡°I get it.¡± ¡°Good. Don¡¯t be mediocre, then. If you want to be a hero, you better be in the newspapers within a couple of years. Otherwise¨C¡± ¡°Yes, I know.¡± He smiled. ¡°Safe travels, you two, on behalf of all of Aspic.¡± He helped Zeta push the boat into the water, and Zeta hopped in before he could get wet. Igel waved as they drifted from the coast and into the ocean. Zeta stood at the end of the boat until the whole port city came into his field of vision. He couldn¡¯t resist yelling at the top of his lungs. ¡°Goodbye, people of Aspic! Goodbye, Greenwich! Goodbye, Axle Island! I promise I will heal this world!¡± ¡°Oh, by the way, you owe me Nibbles for the sword¡¯s repair.¡± ¡°On behalf of all the masters, I will correct it! I have help now! I¡¯ll find others! I¡¯ll defeat the enemies of humanity! I promise!¡± ¡°Idiot! Are you going to help me paddle or just stand there screaming?¡± Hera barked. ¡°Thank you, Sir Kagan! Thank you to all those who helped me become the man I am today! Thank you!¡± ¡°The boat¡¯s tipping! You¡¯re unbalancing us!¡± ¡°Right.¡± Zeta sat properly and took one of the paddles, managing balance in the boat. After an hour, he glanced behind him. Aspic was but a tiny speck, and the island nothing but a thin line. But it was more than Aspic, the city he had known for so little time. Many cities like it would come and go, but he appreciated them all with the same vigor. No, it wasn¡¯t just a departure from Aspic, but from Fer. From the mountain and the lake in Greenwich. From Rog and from Hodge. From Igel and Berto, Gust and Crue. From Axle Island. From his fellow Servants of Humanity. From Sir Kagan. From his home. Zeta was going to miss it so damn much.
Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect - Liquid: Can adopt a colossal avatar of water that serves as a destructive extension of the user¡¯s physical abilities. (33465).
  • (A) Force of will while rising to the surface after being sufficiently submerged in water. Requires half a ton of water to be present.
  • The Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect must be connected to a sizeable body of water at all times to function.
  • By default, Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect is merely a massive form surrounding the user in an avatar of water, however, the water is still water and still susceptible to nature.
  • Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect comes with an array of extensions.
(E) Trident Spears - Liquid, Devastation: Shoots tree, massive spears from the avatar of Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect in a fan before the user. (14468)
  • (A) Throw an air javelin from the heart of Sea Titan¡¯s Aspect. Aim to where the central prong should land.
  • Expect the spears to bombard the area in a line, with a left and right spear destroying areas to the sides of the target.
  • Can repeatedly toss air javelins from either hand to create a barrage.
Newspaper: Incident in Aspic Written by: Sergi Enum, Technocrat Information Circulation(TIC) Senior Reporter. (Aspic, TIC) After numerous false leads, sensationalist articles and contradictory points of view on the tragic events that occurred in the city of Aspic last week, TIC has succeeded in sorting through the information and created a final report. The naval garrison in New Kellus, Western Shelf, was mobilized last week when the port of Aspic issued a distress call to all available military facilities after an earthquake devastated the city within hours. The Kellus fleet were first responders to the sight but only arrived immediately after the last quake occurred. The city was in chaos as citizens fled the city in fright while others were caught or killed by destabilized infrastructure. Reconstruction and military officials rushed to pacify the area and stabilize any structures deemed on the brink of collapse. By night, the population was reportedly calm. However, the city itself was a complete ruin for many major economic sectors. Seismologists arriving in the city two days ago confirmed that the catastrophe nicknamed ¡°The Quake of Aspic¡± was not the result of natural phenomena, but rather that of a sigma. Consultants analyzing the Technocrat Database of Known Grand and Magnum Sigmas (TDKGMS) believe the sigma responsible for this incident was a Grand sigma known as Quake. It¡¯s last known user died of natural causes thirteen years ago. Authorities are in a desperate bid to locate this sigma, but so far no leads have turned up. It has been blacklisted in all Technocrat conclaves worldwide, and anyone in possession of it is expected to be promptly arrested. Dr. Crist Mantle, one of the seismologists analyzing the incident, said they have a decent amount of evidence suggesting the first quake originated from a house owned by one Natalie Olgue. When TIC searched for a comment, authorities informed them that Natalie Olgue washed up on a beach approximately one kilometer away. A medical examiner believes she may have drowned, although the nature of her passing is still being investigated for foul play. However, TIC has reason to believe the body recovered does not belong to Mrs. Olgue as the examiner described a young woman. Any known records of the deceased approximate her age to be well over sixty-years-old. According to witnesses, the destruction was the result of one man, an influential figure in Aspic¡¯s underworld, Balder Rex, also known as the Lion of Aspic. At approximately noon, following the first quake, Rex emerged from the Olgue home and began rampaging, killing everything in sight. ¡°He had no regard for anyone or anything. The boss went in, and when he came out he had a nasty grin on his face,¡± said Lio Tig, a former member of Balder Rex¡¯s organization, which has no distinct name. A body was later found in the wreckage of the Olgue home, and it has been confirmed to be that of one Ivan Foxwell, a known associate of Balder Rex, confirming the claims that he was slaying his own men in addition to innocent civilians.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Authorities have spent the past week searching each and every one of Rex¡¯s properties and spent countless hours interrogating as many of his former associates as possible, although no clear motive has been determined. Regardless, Rex¡¯s acts have been deemed an isolated affair, and thus none of the former associates have been arrested as accomplices despite the efforts of early on-site prosecutors, who have been attempting to use the organization¡¯s prior activities to get them all condemnation. The associates are fleeing Aspic in droves mere moments after being released by authorities. The prosecution is expected to drop their cases soon. Rex¡¯s body was found on the shores of Aspic near the port. Autopsies determined that the cause of death was a piercing through the heart. The body suffered a tremendous beating before his death, and burst blood vessels in the eyes may indicate that he was suffering from psychological damage as well. ¡°As of now, who or what killed Balder Rex is an absolute mystery. Given the wound to his chest, we¡¯re assuming he was murdered, but as to the perpetrator, it¡¯s as if a ghost swooped in and slew him for his crimes,¡± said MO Robert Hoover, the leading military official in Aspic¡¯s military occupation. The desperate citizens have been moved into temporary refugee camps set up within the ruins of the city as reconstruction efforts are underway. Many citizens are eager to return to homes, but many have left the town. ¡°I¡¯m planning to start a farm,¡± said Gerrent Tust, who refused to divulge his former occupation for unknown reasons, ¡°I think I¡¯ve been around the city, and people frankly, for far too long. Fresh air is nice when it isn¡¯t tearing around you at 100 kph.¡± It should be noted that the name above does not appear in any records regarding Aspic citizens. Citizens report that Aspic had encountered numerous incidents of panic in the days and hours leading to the Quake, and the Technocrat officials stationed here before the catastrophe have come under scrutiny for not responding to these (relatively) minor events. Two nights before the Quake, a dock structure, Warehouse 6, was discovered destroyed and emptied of goods inside. Few know the cause of this destruction. A day before the Quake, a known affiliate of Balder Rex, Marc Crue, known in the organization as the ¡°Ghost Gun¡± was seen firing shots in public at unknown targets. Several explosions could be heard in an abandoned plaza before the chaos ended. Hours later, Crue¡¯s body was discovered with a significant gash through his chest that pierced his sternum and heart. In a similar, possibly related event, Rex¡¯s other primary affiliate, Terrent Gust, the Curved Storm, was seen tearing up streets with tornadoes and other devastating wind sigmas the morning of the Quake of Aspic. Once again, the foes were unknown, and Gust¡¯s body could not be found. Authorities expect Gust to either be dead or have fled the city. The state of affairs here is indeed fragile, but the Technocracy has issued statements declaring that everything will be alright within a few weeks. A spokesman said the ¡®mood¡¯ of Aspic is likely to turn around once segments of the city can be adequately repaired. The search is still running for the killer[s], or in this case, the hero[es] responsible for ending the Quake of Aspic and halting Balder Rex¡¯s carnage. No details regarding [their] identity have been brought forward. However, one citizen voluntarily approached TIC with information, who only wishes to be referred to as ¡®Igel.¡¯ ¡°There were two of them, yet I couldn¡¯t see their faces. Maybe I wasn¡¯t worthy of looking at [them], I don¡¯t know. Whoever they were, they served humanity a fine platter that day.¡± When asked if there was anything more he might know about the heroes, he said, ¡°All I know is that they were more than heroes. There is one term and one piece of advice I have for everyone, especially if you''re someone who enjoys spitting on other''s shoes. Fear the Black Meridian.¡± When asked to elaborate, Igel refused to give further comment. 1-27 (F) Sea Struggle ZETA Zeta would have killed to see a shade of green, and preferably not one generated from his own vomit. Any other color would have been suitable as well, so long as it wasn¡¯t blue, or aqua, or teal. His eyes had been exposed to that color for so long that the sky and the sea would meld together at midday. ¡°Are you planning to help me anytime soon?¡± Hera asked, paddling at an awkward angle with oversized oars. Their boat had a sail, but the fabric was so flimsy and untrustworthy that they decided not to rely on it. Thankfully, paddles were included. ¡°Do I look like I¡¯m in a condition to help you?¡± Zeta replied with a wheeze. ¡°How the hell are you seasick anyway? You, of all people, who possesses a constitution strong enough to consume cow manure if you wanted to with no repercussions.¡± Zeta had been out on the water before. At the base of Greenwich Mountain, there was the vast expanse of Greenwich Lake. Sir Kagan used to take him and the other kids down their all the time for water-based aerobics, fishing, training, swimming practice and a whole slew of different exercises. He also nearly drowned them when he held their head underwater and told them to ¡®break their previous record¡¯ for holding their breath. That always went about as well as expected. Spurred by the memories and the churning of his stomach, Zeta puked into the sea once more. ¡°Guess it¡¯s not as strong as I thought it would be,¡± Hera said. She grunted, pushing both oars through the water as if they were cutting through a thick cream. Saltwater spilled into the boat, and every so often she¡¯d have to stop just to dump it out so they didn¡¯t sink. Hera looked like she had dunked her head into the water with the amount of sweat that dripped from her forehead. Her eyes were reddened with stress and the corners of her mouth foamed with thirst and hunger. They had a sack of food, but since she was doing all the work, Hera hardly had time to eat. ¡°If I keep this up any longer, my arms are going to go numb,¡± she said. Of course, consumed by his own misery, Zeta did not hear her. ¡°Actually, I think they already have,¡± she said. Another round of hurls erupted from Zeta¡¯s stomach, and then finally the nauseous affliction settled. He knew it would be brief, for Zeta could feel a lingering resurgence, waiting to strike at the most inopportune moment. He fell back with relief, laying on the floor of the boat. He rocked it, and his face was drenched in saltwater that lapped over the side. ¡°Hey! Dumbass! Be careful. You nearly soaked the food!¡± ¡°Oh, sorry,¡± he said in a weary whisper. ¡°How much longer do we have?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯d be there by the end of today under normal conditions. But since our sail is crap and I¡¯m the only one rowing, I have no idea!¡± ¡°Pssh.¡± Zeta spat a little, regretted the tiny pellets of saliva now raining on his face. ¡°Tell me Hera, what will change even if I helped you? We¡¯d just be switching one arm out for another. Our speed would not change.¡± He heard the paddle erupt from the water. A moment later, a brown, ovoid pan of wood smacked against his face. Zeta could feel the heat of the pain surge to his cheeks, his blood swelling to redden it. A permanent mark masked his face in a crimson outline by the time the paddle returned to the water. Hera twitched while she spoke. ¡°I¡¯m saying that, rather than have the same, arguably weaker woman waste all her energy on the same repetitive task like she¡¯s done for three days straight, MAYBE, the responsibility should be handed off to, or at least shared, with the man who has spent the past twenty years doing one-handed push-ups every single day or whatever was in your mentor¡¯s training should be the one rowing the boat. Just a suggestion.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m sick.¡± The paddle emerged from the water again, but Zeta raised his hands in protest before it came down upon his face. ¡°Okay! Okay! I get it. Take a break and give me a moment to get my bearings.¡± ¡°Are you certain you can? I¡¯m pretty sure you lost those years ago.¡± ¡°Very funny.¡± He sat up, rubbing his head from wounds old and new, internal and now¡­external. Seriously, can I see something other than blue! Well, there was the brown of the ship, but that didn¡¯t count. There was also Hera, but that didn¡¯t count either. If he eyed her for too long, she¡¯d stare back daggers and ask questions. Hera looked rabid. Maybe Zeta did let her work for too long. There were few things Zeta genuinely feared. Spiders, Sir Kagan (on a bad day), heights, and now Hera in her current state. If he pissed her off, Zeta knew he was bound to die at sea. They switched positions, so he was facing the forward direction. Stroke, stroke, stroke. How tedious. He could already understand why Hera was so angry with him. Although, she could have taken a lighter tone in her voice. ¡°You know, I only waited for so long because my arms need to be in the fittest condition. Vagos is a Liquid focus, and we¡¯re out at sea. I was being vigilant! A fair deal. One person rows while the other stays on guard,¡± said Zeta ¡°That¡¯s the worst excuse for laziness I think I¡¯ve ever heard, and I had to listen to Igel and Berto,¡± Hera replied. Her mood deflated at the mention of their names. Zeta wanted to empathize, but at least she was calmer. ¡°Besides, he¡¯s probably on the Western Shelf by now. It¡¯s all the better for us to avoid him.¡± ¡°Eh, I¡¯m not so sure. I kind of want to fight him again,¡± said Zeta.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. ¡°Well, of course you would. I won¡¯t mourn you if you rush to your death.¡± ¡°It¡¯s part of the job,¡± said Zeta. ¡°If you would like to ensure my safety, then how about I get stronger? Maybe¡­ a sigma?¡± It took Zeta several seconds to realize his tongue was planted firmly in his cheek. ¡°Whatever. Take it!¡± She split a rift to open her Pocket Inventory and retrieved a random green-cored sigma. There it was, that beautiful shade of green. She chucked it with such ferocity that Zeta¡¯s instincts kicked in before his rationality. He ducked his head to the side, and the sigma zipped past, splashing and sinking into the dark blue deep. ¡°Idiot.¡± ¡°No!¡± ¡°Wait, what are you¨C GET BACK HERE!¡± But Zeta had already leaped overboard. The keel of the boat scraped against his back as it passed overhead, shrouding the deep sea in a pitch black shadow. Now it was Zeta¡¯s turn to be frantic. He searched left, right, up and down, straining his senses to spot the green core. He refused to lose it. A glimmer of jade caught his eye, blinking several feet below like a brilliant green star. Immediately, his body darted for it, legs kicking through the water with the force of a motor. His breath a bubble of air pressed tight against the membrane of his lungs, the timer of his record from Sir Kagan¡¯s training ticking down in his mind. The glimmer sank slightly, but overall Zeta outpaced it. Yes! He gripped it, wrapping his fingers around the bulbous¡­ slimy¡­organic headlight, accompanied by menacing, pupilless eyes, a pointed skull and a fine array of sharp, jagged teeth. Oh, my mistake. HERA Maybe if that moron waited just a few more seconds, he would have realized that sigmas are light enough to float. She would have snatched it from the water as they passed by, as she was currently doing now, twirling the elementary grade Falling Rain in her fingers like a cheap toy. Hera was in no hurry to resume moving the boat, even though with no one rowing it trickled across the sea at a slug¡¯s pace. No, she would wait for him to resurface, if he resurfaced. If he didn¡¯t¡­ well, natural selection. She planned to laugh over his watery grave. But the moron did emerge, panicking, coughing, and crying out for his life. It was hilarious, and she couldn¡¯t help but laugh. After building up three days of resentment towards the lazy bum, Hera didn¡¯t care if such behavior was ¡®amoral.¡¯ ¡°How¡¯s your swim, Zeta?¡± she called out, chuckling. ¡°FOR GOD¡¯S SAKE, HERA! START ROWING!¡± His legs were chopping through the water like a motor. His arms wheeled through the strokes fast enough to power a dam. ¡°Upset? Now you know how I¨C¡± Something was wrong. Zeta was actually scared for dear life. He was making expressions she didn¡¯t think possible for someone of his stature. The ocean rose behind Zeta as he swam, and within she saw the shadow of a familiar creature. A Wave Beast, one of the worst predators that could possibly lurk beneath the sea. Oh, my mistake. The oars were a desperate attempt, but speed was definitely what they needed. If there was any energy left in her beaten, fatigued body, she mustered it forth and put it into the boat''s speed. Zeta shook heaven and hell as he snagged the sides, yanking himself inside the boat in a wet, miserable cough. ¡°Go, go, go, go, go!¡± he screamed. Hera wanted to scream with him, but this was her maximum effort. The wave stalked their boat. The momentum the beast carried with it increased the tide by twice its height. The Wave Beast¡¯s teeth received a more prominent silhouette as it bared them, raising the top jaw and ready to chomp down on some unsuspecting seafarers. ¡°No, no, no, no, no!¡± she cried. ¡°Row, row, ROW!¡± ¡°THEN HELP ME!¡± It didn¡¯t matter. The Wave Beast was upon them. It¡¯s tide lowered above them, filling the ship with saltwater and placing its bite within reach. Both of them screamed as it chomped down on the boat. ¡°Hera, do you think people can change?¡± Zeta asked. It was the first thing he said since they both washed up ashore. They were lucky. Absolutely, undeniably lucky. Lucky that Hera had brought them close enough to the end of their crossing that they didn¡¯t end up as food for the fishes. The Wave Beast never assaulted them after taking away half of the boat¡­and their supply of food. Zeta and Hera drifted along on the afloat portion for a few more hours. Both of them were silent as the sailboat teetered along, straining itself as the most necessary components of the boat did their function until the moment they cracked apart and died. Which happened, but thankfully it was when land was in sight. After a wonderfully awful swim, they arrived on soil, on what was presumably the Western Shelf. There was an abnormal amount of heat to the point where Hera swore she could see simmering light lines come off her skin. Hera never yearned for home more than she did at that moment. Not the one in Aspic. She yearned for the Selatin. Yes, the Selatin. That awful place where they lived. If she wanted to go back there, then Hera knew she was going insane. ¡°Are you real?¡± Hera asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°We just survived a situation that would normally be responsible for the deaths of one in twenty sailors. Professional sailors. With bigger boats and bigger crews. We survived¡­ on a raft, just long enough to carry us to safety. And the first question you ask me is ¡®do you think people can change?¡¯ Let me ask you, Zeta, do you have any regard for your own life.¡± He smiled, and she wanted to punch him for daring to smirk. How could he? How come he got to be full of joy while she felt nothing but fear and discomfort? Why couldn¡¯t that be shared? ¡°No, actually, I don¡¯t. My life belongs to my master. It is meant to be taken by that which I love, and I love Humanity. I don¡¯t view this as an omen but as a sign. A sign that I¡¯m moving in the right direction.¡± He turned his head and glanced to Hera. His expression was nothing but simplistic and sweet. There was no agitation, even after everything she said to him and everything he experienced. One hand lay on his prized sword, and the other on the Elementary sigma, the only thing they managed to save. She watched him crush and employ it, the smile never fading. It was so naive, yet it was what was she needed for the moment. No worries, just an opportunity to share the joy. It was possible. I can¡¯t be mad at him. ¡°No, Zeta, I don¡¯t think people can change. Not at an age where change matters, anyway. Maybe I just think that because I¡¯ve only seen tradition try to change people all my life. Maybe you have something different in mind. Tell me, Zeta, do you have a plan?¡± He smiled, gazing to the midday sun with not a hint of desperation. ¡°Yeah. Plenty of them.¡±
Sea Bind - Liquid: Pulls four tendrils from a nearby water source to wrap around a target¡¯s arms and legs. They will drag the target towards and beneath the water source as far as possible. (879).
  • (A) Raise hand towards targeted water source. Swipe to targeted individual.
  • Sea Bind will hold a target beneath the water in order to drown them if possible. However, if such a feat is impossible, target will be released upon hitting the bottom of the liquid body.
  • (!) Sea Bind can be broken quite easily by an overwhelmingly physical or supernatural force.
    • If a Sea Bind tendril is broken, the other tendrils will remain
    • Sea Bind is twice as strong when submerged in the original water source.
2-1 Drifters HERA The whistling wind carried its howl as far as the echoes would take it. Fixed in place, neither Zeta nor Hera said a word as their complexions went deathly pale and their nostrils emptied of moisture. Zeta¡¯s gaze was dark, his eyes hidden with fear, spots forming on the lids. Eventually, his face erupted in tiny red specks of stress. ¡°Hera, do you by any chance know where we are?¡± ¡°The Western Shelf,¡± she said promptly. ¡°Ah, I see,¡± he said, his darkened gaze unlifted, ¡°yes, that place, of course. Tell me, Hera, is all of the Western Shelf like this.¡± ¡°No, just the southern portion.¡± It was a difficult effort not to cry. ¡°I¡¯d guess it¡¯s like this for 2000 km inland. I don¡¯t know of any nearby towns.¡± ¡°Quite a long distance,¡± he said, with a gentle nod. ¡°Did you happen to bring a map?¡± ¡°No, I never considered it! You hurried us away from Aspic!¡± Hera didn¡¯t mean to raise her voice, but given the circumstances, she couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°And, you¡¯re absolutely certain we can¡¯t go back to sea?¡± ¡°Zeta, all that¡¯s left of the boat is planks of wood.¡± The tears were emerging from the depths of her ducts. She forced them back down to stay strong. ¡°I see. Then I guess we have no choice but to go forward,¡± he said, facing the endless dune sea before them. ¡°Never in my life did I imagine there could be so much sand in the world.¡± His optimism broke her spirit, and when Zeta wasn¡¯t looking she sobbed quietly. She remembered the sailboat. Perhaps drowning at sea would have been a better fate.
¡°One week outside of Aspic and I¡¯m already destined to die,¡± Hera said, her throat scratchy as she climbed up the next dune. The horizon had not changed. Not a settlement in sight. ¡°Someone! For the love of God, if you¡¯re out there, please answer me!¡± she screamed. ¡°Hera! Save your voice,¡± Zeta called. His pace was slightly faster than hers, placing him several dunes ahead at all times. That idiot. She was the one carrying what food and water they had left, which was hardly enough to afford crumbs to a rat. Oh, who was she kidding? The food and water weren¡¯t enough to weigh her down. It didn¡¯t exist. It was her own exhaustion, her slow pace, her unfit, urban figure that staggered her endurance. Surviving the streets of Aspic was a completely different field from surviving nature. All the lessons she had mastered were thrown out the window and buried beneath mounds of yellow grains. Her mother always warned her to never run off with strange guys, for they always brought trouble. Hera assumed she was talking about a lover of sorts, but she would have taken a foolish romance over this hopeless pursuit any day. She shivered. Thinking of home wasn¡¯t helping her situation. If anything, it amplified her stress. On her way down the next dune, she tripped into the slack, plummeting into the sand and loosening her grip on the last few oats they possessed. With it, her pride and willpower. ¡°Hera!¡± Zeta called, coming closer. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She rolled onto her stomach. The sun burned her eyes with both its hue and its heat, but she could hear him approaching. Small bombs of sand bursting from the dunes in conjunction with his steps. Eventually, Zeta¡¯s stupid face shadowed her view with an optimistic grin. ¡°Zeta, I don¡¯t think I can keep moving,¡± she said. ¡°No worries! We have a lead!¡± ¡°On civilization?¡± He nodded vigorously. Hera couldn¡¯t help but notice his eyes were red. ¡°You saw people?¡± ¡°No, but I know where they went, look!¡± He pointed to the dunes behind them. ¡°Footsteps.¡± It was wasteful but worth it. Hera mustered the strength to punch him square in the cheekbones. ¡°Those are yours!¡± ¡°Oh, really?¡± Zeta started laughing, and that¡¯s when Hera realized he had entered some strange state of delirium. His red eyes rolled back into his head. After losing his balance and drifting about in small, staggered steps, he toppled to the ground, all the while never ceasing his hysteria. His body immediately went limp as he passed out. Four hours. That¡¯s how long they had been wandering through the burning heat, and that fact dawned upon Hera as she stared at Zeta¡¯s slowly rising chest. Time had been lost to them. Their bodies just kept moving and moving without protection, without supplies. Zeta had maintained a straight spine throughout all of it, but his simple mind had degraded with every step. And now he was unconscious, his head sprinkled with oats, sand, and sweat. ¡°We¡¯re going to die,¡± she said aloud, collapsing to her knees. ¡°This is happening. We¡¯re going to die. And all because of his¨Cbecause of our stupidity.¡± She wanted to curl into a ball. This was it, her will had cracked. Nature wanted them dead, so what point was there in resisting? No! Zeta had already taken the insanity route, but someone needed to be rational. They could either both break and perish together, or at least try to survive. Besides, if Zeta died and she was starving, cannibalism had not been pushed off the table.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and heaved. Zeta might be useless, but he was not bringing her down with him. Thankfully, he woke up when the blood touched all limbs in his body again. ¡°Oh, uh, where was I? Where¡¯s the steak, Sir Kagan¡­¡± His speech slurred. ¡°Can you walk?¡± ¡°Ye-Yeah.¡± Zeta¡¯s steps were drowsy; his body swayed. He looked up and grinned. ¡°Hera, this is the biggest beach I¡¯ve ever seen!¡± She kicked him, lighter this time so he didn¡¯t fall over. ¡°Get moving, moron. I refuse to die because of you.¡± They kept up their trek for several more hours, but the scorching heat never relinquished its wrath. Hera believed she had sweat off ten pounds. Zeta wobbled alongside her, drunk on dehydration. He started giggling. ¡°Hhheerrrraaa, wanna see a magic trick?¡± She raised an eyebrow. Zeta extended his arms and lost his balance briefly. ¡°Furlong Reein.¡± ¡°What?¡± Nothing happened. Zeta tried again. ¡°Faaling Reig.¡± ¡°Zeta, are you alright?¡± Had he lost his mind? Could she kill him? Killing him didn¡¯t seem like a bad idea at the moment. ¡°Fallleing Rein.¡± Above them, where the bright sun used to boast its light, clouds clumped together and grayed. Then the clump started to drip. Freshwater. ¡°Ta-da! There¡¯s my magic trick¡± Zeta chuckled. ¡°Zeta! Holy¨C¡± She had forgotten he employed a new sigma when they washed ashore. Hell, with the state they were in, she had forgotten they had sigmas. Falling Rain, an Elementary Grade sigma with the simple task of kicking the water cycle into overdrive. They took it from Terrent Gust; the power of the Curved Storm had come to save them. But, how was Zeta able to use it? He had employed it, but when did he accumulate the right amount of Divinity to do so? He wasn¡¯t using an Ora Charm, and he seemed to be allergic to prayer, so¨C What the hell does it matter? Hera opened her mouth and let the steady shower flood in. Even in tiny drops, each tap on the tongue brought bountiful refreshment. Then it stopped after two minutes, as per Falling Rain¡¯s requirements, and Zeta prepared to pass out again. Absolutely not. She caught him before he hit the ground. ¡°Not yet, Zeta! We can still make it. Just keep using that, and we¡¯ll both be fine. This is what makes sigmas a saving grace, remember! This is their wonder, the kind you wanted to find.¡± Growing up around sigmas, she didn¡¯t consider them that special. But for the first time in her life, she came to appreciate their existence as the godsend that they were. Her heart thumped at their marvel, and Zeta¡¯s perspective on sigma powers was starting to make much more sense. She really was losing it if Zeta¡¯s perspective was making sense. ¡°O-okay,¡± Zeta said. He picked himself up and grinned involuntarily, a symptom of his delusion. Hera heard rumors of things known as ¡®mirages¡¯ in desert biomes. She couldn¡¯t help but wonder if he was seeing one now? The gray clouds parted. Hera and Zeta continued moving toward an endless destination. The dune sea¡¯s makeup had not changed once during their seven-hour traversal of its sands. She could spot the differences between one hill and the next, and eventually, she saw clones. All sense of direction was scrambled to the point where Hera wondered if they wandered in circles. The mundane dune sea was increasingly tiresome to stare at. Sand chafed her legs, and heat seared her skin. Perhaps this was not the Western Shelf, but rather Hell? She quickly learned how valueless little drops of rainwater were for her system. Like a portable well, she pushed Zeta to use Falling Rain again. Each instance offering a temporary reprieve and left Zeta more exhausted than the previous. That was one detriment to sigmas. Even though it wasn¡¯t an official limiter, repeated use of specific sigmas drained one¡¯s stamina. It¡¯s a minor issue, and it could be quickly recovered in a regular situation. Their scenario, however, was highly irregular. ¡°Fulling Rine,¡± Zeta said at Hera¡¯s urging. It registered. She made sure he received enough of his own water too, but it never seemed to be enough. ¡°I don¡¯t feel so good,¡± Zeta said, shutting his eyes and bobbing his head. ¡°No, no. You¡¯re fine. Just look up and drink. Zeta? Zeta!¡± He collapsed, his sword sticking into the sand. Shortly afterward, the rain stopped. Sigmas automatically stop functioning after the user loses consciousness or dies. ¡°Zeta, wake up! Not now. We can¡¯t stop now!¡± He was breathing, but barely. No, don¡¯t die. Not from this. After what they went through with Balder Rex, nature was the last thing she was willing to let take them. Hera wanted to punch herself from hours earlier from daring to even contemplate giving up. Not from this. ¡°You have things to accomplish! Get up!¡± she yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him. ¡°You¡¯ll be brought to death¡¯s door many times, Zeta! If a little heat is all it takes to topple you, then you can¡¯t be worthy of the title you covet!¡± He didn¡¯t stir, hanging limp as she dragged him through the sand. ¡°If you can¡¯t survive this, you aren¡¯t worthy of being a Servant of Humanity!¡± A firm hand gripped her arm and tightened. Zeta pulled himself up and bore his eyes into hers. ¡°It¡¯s not a matter of worthiness. I already am a Servant of Humanity. Don¡¯t you dare say that again.¡± She gulped. Zeta looked rabid as he spoke, foaming at the mouth. ¡°Well, I guess I made my point,¡± she said meekly. He picked up Black Meridian and continued forward. ¡°You are right, Hera. This is a trial of sorts. If we¡¯re being tested to be worthy of anything, we¡¯re to be worthy of the wider world,¡± he said. Zeta looked to the sky and raised his arms. ¡°Falling Rain.¡± He winced as the activation pinched his heart. This time, with the rain, came a rumble. ¡°I don¡¯t remember that. What¡¯s happening?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Hera said as she was thrown off balance. Was it Quake? No, she had that in her inventory. Had they abused the sigma too much and angered some celestial god? Only they would be that unlucky. In the distance, a dust cloud approached rapidly, tearing through the dune sea as if it were cream and butter. ¡°Zeta!¡± ¡°We can¡¯t run, it¡¯s too fast!¡± He drew Black Meridian. As if that could stop a sandstorm. But on closer inspection, it wasn¡¯t a sandstorm at all. Far from it. It was a¡­dune? Two shadowed figures stood on top, one with its hands pushed behind it, driving the dune. The cloud grew smaller and slower until it disappeared right before them. The rumbled halted, leaving Zeta and Hera to face a massive hump of sand. The two figures were in plain view now. They hopped off onto the sand and removed their goggles, scarfs, and hoods. A man and a woman of youthful and dark complexions. Their outfits were ragged, lightweight, and primarily colored brown and beige. Perfect protection for the desert. The man, who had been driving the dune, spoke first, his accent thick and deep. ¡°Friends, may I know who has been making the sky cry so much?¡± 2-2 Strangers and Shifting Sands ZETA ¡°I last saw dark clouds when I witnessed a storm on the Shelf¡¯s coast years ago. To spot them in the middle of the desert is most certainly alarming, no?¡± He nor Hera said anything. They tensed and backed away. To Zeta, it was not a matter of agitation, but because he could not see clearly through his dazed, blurry vision. Any kind of conflict would be a chore. With what he could see, the two strangers were covered from head to toe in padded beige fabric; the only exposed skin was their faces. In their pockets, however, they had a small strip of cloth that they could wrap around their heads to cover their nose and mouth, and a pair of dirt-stained goggles to shield their eyes. Both were removed when they arrived. They were locals, evident from their darker complexions. The cotton clothing that wasn¡¯t worn to protect against the sun seemed ceremonial. Both of them hid their hair beneath a tight scarf that wrapped around their cheeks and chin. The woman had a small jewel on her right middle finger, a glimmering aqua gem. The man took note of their hesitation. He opened more of his scarf to give them a clear look of his broad, warm grin. ¡°My friends, there should be nothing to fear if we have no reason to fear you. This rain, it¡¯s unnatural. You are both sigma users, yes?¡± ¡°Are you?¡± Zeta blurted out. Hera shot him a look. Somehow, he missed the notion to shut up. The man nodded. At his invitation, the woman also revealed more of her expression, showing smooth, young cheeks and riveting brown eyes that sucked one in and soothed their tension. Zeta didn¡¯t remember when his shoulders finally slacked. ¡°Apparently you¡¯re keen on forgetting introductions,¡± she said to the man. ¡°My name is Clementine Alibi, and this is my brother, Jerine.¡± Even with the greeting, Zeta and Hera refused to speak. With every slight gesture, they gained some distance. However, Jerine would take another step forward, and all their progress would be lost. They didn¡¯t understand why he was so insistent on coming closer. Go away. Their minds and bodies were too erratic to deal with people. ¡°Are you two alright?¡± Jerine finally said of their silence. ¡°Jerine, don¡¯t be so dense. Can¡¯t you see they don¡¯t look well?¡± ¡°Really? Come to think of it, you don¡¯t look like nomads. You¡¯re not dressed for it, and you have no supplies. Who are you?¡± ¡°Uh¡­¡± ¡°I am a merchant of Aspic, and he is my bodyguard,¡± said Hera. ¡°We were fleeing the city when our boat crashed and left us stranded on the Shelf. We¡¯re the only survivors.¡± ¡°Ah, I see. Yes, we heard about the Quake of Aspic,¡± said Jerine. ¡°Very unfortunate.¡± Clementine¡¯s hand cupped her mouth. ¡°You poor things. You must be starving. Jerine, go get some food and water for them.¡± Their attention returned to the strange, steep dune they arrived in, and as they sorted through its sands, Zeta leaned to Hera¡¯s ear. ¡°Why did you lie?¡± he whispered. ¡°Zeta, think things through before you speak. We don¡¯t know these people. We don¡¯t know who they are or who they¡¯re affiliated with.¡± ¡°You think they¡¯re enemies? That sounds like paranoia to me.¡± ¡°Paranoia? I¡¯m trying to keep our asses from sitting on spikes!¡± Despite her whispers, there was a lot of bite in her words. ¡°And I¡¯m trying to get our asses out of the sun and put food in our stomachs.¡± Zeta looked towards the dune and called out. ¡°Hey! Are you real?¡± Jerine gave him a puzzled look. Hera gripped and dug into his arm. ¡°What kind of question was that?¡± ¡°You are real, right? You¡¯re not one of those desert illusions?¡± Jerine chuckled. ¡°You mean a mirage? No, my friend,¡± he slapped his skin, the clap echoing across the sands. ¡°We¡¯re quite real.¡± Zeta turned to Hera. ¡°You can stay out here if you want, but I want to survive the next few days. Ask them questions if you don¡¯t trust them. You¡¯d be surprised what you can learn.¡± He smiled. It was, after all, how he met Hera. Now, if only she could realize that. Zeta approached the base of the dune as Clementine slid down its slope, a nappy, bulging bag in her hand. The last streaks of sand were coming off of its side, which concerned Zeta. He had watched her rummage through the dune itself to retrieve their supplies. Who would store food in sand? ¡°What about you guys? Where are you from?¡± Zeta asked, accepting the bag. He made a quick peek inside, but all he saw was orange. Jerine¡¯s head popped out from the top of the dune. Zeta didn¡¯t realize how tall the dune was until he stood closer. ¡°The only locale worth mentioning in this desert. The oasis of Atman Bolo.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of it.¡± ¡°Well, of course you wouldn¡¯t. You don¡¯t know anything about the world,¡± Hera said, creeping up behind him. She snatched the bag of food away from his hands. Jerine feigned offense. ¡°What? You¡¯ve never heard of the great Atman Bolo. I¡¯m shocked, horrified!¡± His sister shook her head at her brother¡¯s antics. Jerine grinned. ¡°Well, my friend, we¡¯ll just have to show you.¡± ¡°Come aboard. It will take days to traverse the desert, no matter how fast you try to cross it. The least we can do if help you get along,¡± Clementine said. She placed her foot into the side of the dune, and Zeta watched in amazement as the sand parted way and solidified. The power of a sigma. The rest of her climb was as easy as ascending a stairwell. At the top, she reached down with an open hand, and Jerine did likewise, big smiles on their faces. ¡°It¡¯s called Sand Stepper. In my opinion, it¡¯s one of the necessities of desert life,¡± Jerine said. ¡°There¡¯s a lot more wonder to see at Atman Bolo. I promise.¡± Zeta didn¡¯t hesitate to grab his hand. ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t hurry on without me!¡± said Hera, grabbing Clementine¡¯s. At the top, Zeta was surprised to see how firm the sand was. His hands hardly sunk inside; they pushed against yellow earth. Jerine stood up, his weight making no dent into the depths of the dune, and walked to the edge. ¡°I promised wonders, and I shall deliver. Tidal Dune.¡± Jerine threw his hands behind him. Just as Hera found her balance on the dune, she lurched backward. Clementine was unaffected, but it took Zeta and Hera a moment to find balance. At a breezy pace, the dune they sat upon glided smoothly across the sands.
¡°We¡¯re grateful for the food, but I have to ask about the excessive amount of citrus,¡± said Hera as she held up a tangerine from the bag. When they looked inside, there was nothing but round orange fruits of various sizes. A few lemons were piled at the bottom. Clementine shied away, her cheeks reddening. ¡°I¡­had not planned on guests.¡± Jerine burst out laughing. His focus on the Tidal Dune faltered for a moment as he nearly succumbed to his hysteria. ¡°Oh, do tell me. Did my little sister only stock fruit?¡± ¡°You never tell me what you want, so I take matters into my own hands, Jerine!¡± ¡°Ha ha ha ha ha ha!¡±Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Zeta had never seen such a fruit before, but when he bit into it, the succulent, savory, sweet juices poured into his system. All doubts of Jerine and Clementine¡¯s trustworthiness evaporated into thin air. ¡°Wow, this is great! It has a rough exterior, but the bite within is delightful.¡± ¡°You¡¯re supposed to peel it, dumbass.¡± She demonstrated by digging her fingers into the exterior and tearing off like dead skin. ¡°Oh, well that would explain a lot.¡± Clementine giggled. ¡°You two are funny. I don¡¯t blame you, though. I assume the fruit must be new to you, erm¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s Zeta,¡± he said. ¡°And this wonderful lady right here is Hera.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the smart one.¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer the term ¡®more experience,¡¯¡± ¡°Talk to me when you want an actual answer. Zeta can¡¯t tell his left foot from his right.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true. Stop exaggerating.¡± ¡°I¡¯m the one who saved your ass from dying in the desert! I have a right to declare what you can and cannot do when my life is also at stake.¡± Zeta¡¯s stomach grumbled. ¡°Speaking of steak, I hope you have some in this oasis of yours.¡± Clementine¡¯s grin grew wider. ¡°Maybe, but in the meantime help yourself to as much fruit as you like. I¡¯ve got plenty.¡± ¡°Is it local?¡± Hera asked. ¡°Assuredly.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t doubt Clem on matters of citrus. They¡¯re her favorite. She¡¯s an expert.¡± ¡°Be quiet and drive the dune, Jerine,¡± she said. He replied with a quiet chuckle. The Tidal Dune drifted steadily. As the terrain flattened and rose, it picked up and released sand from its base, ensuring the passengers never shifted in elevation if they didn¡¯t have to. Zeta¡¯s eyes sparkled as he watched. Indeed, sigmas were a gift from God, even if Hera and the rest of the world claimed such a being didn¡¯t exist. He wanted more. He wanted to perform the same great miracles. ¡°Hera, I believe I¡¯m owed two more standard sigmas if I¡¯m not mistaken. One for defeating Gust and the other for Rex. Those count as earnings, right? I¡¯ve earned a right to those sigmas.¡± ¡°Earnings?¡± Clementine raised an eyebrow. ¡°Ugh. Zeta is insistent that any new sigma he gains must be earned from defeating his enemies. He¡¯s so stubborn he won¡¯t even accept the full standard set yet.¡± She opened her Pocket Inventory, a tiny rift in space, and retrieved two gray-cored sigmas. The luster on the crystals had worn off. ¡°A sigma user without the standard set,¡± Jerine commented. ¡°Friend, I know street beggars with a higher score than you.¡± Zeta took the two sigmas from Hera¡¯s hands and employed them. Read Score and Display Sigma. One would give him great information on his opponents by telling him of their score. The other would allow him to boast by creating a holographic image of any sigma he possessed in his hand, any other user who Read that image would know of the sigma and its properties. The sigmas¡¯ solid matrices crushed into glittering specks of dust. ¡°I welcome the challenge,¡± Zeta said. ¡°Well, we can find an Angel of Valeri at¡­at¨C¡± Hera trailed off. Zeta opened his eyes and emerged from Prayer, feeling absolutely fulfilled. It was if he could now feel the Divinity coursing through his veins, although he swore only a sigma could allow him to do that. Must be my imagination. Both Hera and Clementine were staring at him perplexed. Their eyes glowed gray, indications that they were Reading him. ¡°Is something wrong?¡± ¡°Zeta, you¡¯re score¨C¡± ¡°It instantly filled your Divinity! How did you do that?¡± ¡°Hmm? I thought that happened automatically or whatever. With Excess or something.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t have any Excess,¡± said Hera. ¡°I watched your bar. Your Divinity accumulated almost immediately. It happened on the beach too, with Falling Rain.¡± Zeta searched his pockets, patting himself down for that wretched abomination. ¡°Maybe I have an Ora Charm on me, somewhere. God, those things are disgusting.¡± ¡°Ora Charm?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a new device spreading worldwide,¡± said Hera. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small yellow bead. ¡°It accumulates Divinity even faster than Prayer. Ten times as fast, to be exact. Although, even Zeta¡¯s accumulation was far too quick. Besides, Zeta, you threw yours away.¡± She reached into a different pocket and retrieved a second Ora Charm, a glimmering golden menace. ¡°Well, I did start praying¨C¡± ¡°Praying wouldn¡¯t be that fast! And you need a statue of Valeri, like the one I used to have. Natural Divinity accumulation is possible, but it is such a dismal gain per day that it¡¯s far from worthwhile.¡± Her focus narrowed. ¡°Zeta, there¡¯s something you¡¯re not telling me. Spill it.¡± ¡°Hera, you said it yourself. You¡¯re the expert, you tell me.¡± ¡°Well, they are tiny scores, after all. Maybe Zeta had gained a little Excess while you were wandering the desert,¡± said Clementine. Her hands were positioned to separate them in case the hostilities continued to brew. ¡°Perhaps his attunement to God is just that strong,¡± Jerine joked. ¡°Friends, let¡¯s not kill each other before we arrive at Atman Bolo, okay?¡± Several heavy breaths later, and Hera finally leaned away. He remembered their promise to each other, to answer everything about themselves ¡®in due time.¡¯ Zeta vowed to keep that promise; he¡¯d tell her what was happening to him. However, he needed to figure that out himself first. After a moment of silent tension, Jerine¡¯s head perked up. ¡°I know how to cheer you up, friends. Let me tell you the story about how my sister became a Liquid focus.¡± ¡°Jerine, don¡¯t.¡± ¡°It all started when we found¨C¡± ¡°JERINE!¡± ¡°Okay, alright, I won¡¯t,¡± he said. Muttering beneath his breath, he added, ¡°Oil Baroness.¡±
The steady breeze rushing past his ears led Zeta into a sleepy, meditative state, but the crush of sigma next to him broke that tranquility. Hera brushed off her hands as the faint residue of sigma employment sprinkled into her lap. ¡°There goes a year¡¯s worth of Excess.¡± ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°I had been saving forever for a Magnum grade Mind sigma, but that dream went into the sewer ever since you know who showed up in Aspic.¡± ¡°Oh, you mean Vagos?¡± She nodded. Her hand cupped into a claw, and electricity crackled between her five fingers. ¡°I employed a copy of the Charge Shots we took from the Lilick Brothers, so at least I¡¯ll have something more practical to fight with.¡± ¡°What are you talking about? You were fine! Neural Fighter was sufficient. You could have saved up and stolen from Lena instead.¡± The Tidal Dune lurched to a halt, Clementine gasped, and suddenly Zeta felt a hand grip and close his mouth shut. Jerine whirled around with a red glare in his eye. ¡°Who will you be stealing from?¡± ¡°Zeta, you goddamn idiot!¡± Hera whispered. Did I say something? He thought, but his voice emptied into a muffled hand. Clementine shuffled away from them as Jerine grew closer, the Tidal Dune slowly disintegrating with them aboard. His fist was slightly raised, not quite ready to strike, but prepared to jab them if necessary. ¡°Jerine, it was a slip of the tongue!¡± Hera pleaded. ¡°As I said, he¡¯s a moron. He hears names and repeats them without thinking.¡± ¡°Your lie is futile, Hera. Lena Kurova is a name not spoken of as a ¡®slip of the tongue,¡¯¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask again, who are you people and what do you want with her?¡± ¡°Jerine, please! We¡¯ll leave. Just leave us here, and we won¡¯t bother you or your oasis. You¡¯ve given us enough to cross the desert by ourselves. Just, do¨C¡± Zeta gripped Hera¡¯s hand and pried it away. ¡°Lena Kurova. Supposedly one of the Pillars of some so-called Pentagon. I hate the Pentagon. I hate her. What¡¯s it to ya?¡± One of Zeta¡¯s hands reached for his sword. Zeta and Jerine¡¯s eyes met for a minute. Neither of them staggered their gaze. After that period, Jerine slouched and reformed the Tidal Dune beneath them. He continued driving with a warm smile. They blinked with confusion, but then Clementine¡¯s soft hand rested on Hera¡¯s shoulder. ¡°You guys aren¡¯t really a merchant and a bodyguard, are you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s partially true.¡± She giggled. ¡°We were more worried if you were Pentagon Operatives. They¡¯re trouble. We don¡¯t want trouble in Atman Bolo.¡± ¡°Our oasis has done everything it can to stay away from the sorrows of the world. To be its own isolated kingdom,¡± said Jerine. ¡°I sense they¡¯re a story behind your hatred of the Pentagon,¡± said Clementine. ¡°I¡¯d love to hear it someday.¡± ¡°Be honest, Clementine, everyone has a reason to hate the Pentagon. Well, except the rich. Their story can¡¯t be that original, no offense.¡± Clementine smiled. ¡°Well, Jerine, maybe I just want to know them as people. Did you consider that?¡± He scoffed. ¡°Not everyone in the world can be your friend, Clementine.¡± He grinned to Hera and Zeta. ¡°But I think these two are all right.¡± He peeled his eyes forward, and slowly the Tidal Dune steadied to halt. An actual stop, far from the harsh ejection Jerine had given them earlier. The Tidal Dune disintegrated, leaving its passengers and cargo sitting gently in the sand. ¡°We¡¯re here, welcome to the Atman Bolo oasis.¡±
Tidal Dune - Sand: User can raise and move a massive dune of sand as if it were a fast-moving caravan. (1050).
  • (A) To create the Tidal Dune, push into the air. The dune will form beneath the user.
    • To drive, the user throws hands behind themselves. The rotation of their hands can steer and slow the Dune.
  • Requires a great deal of practice to master.
  • Tidal Dune will remain until the user creates another Tidal Dune, then the sand will fall apart.
  • Users and passengers can leave and return to Tidal Dune as they please.
    • Items and luggage can be stored in the sand and will be safe and secure. However, they will be deposited freely if Tidal Dune is replaced or user dies.
  • The sand on the Tidal Dune is solid enough to hold people and things, although it is not completely rigid.
2-3 The Oasis of Atman Bolo HERA Nature is unnatural. Lush, tall palms grouped together amid sun-stained, arid wastes? Impossible, but here it was, right in front of Hera¡¯s eyes, the glistening tropics yanking the air out of her lungs to replace it with its own refreshing scent. From the edge of the oasis, she saw slivers of a crystal blue spring. Blue and yellow mixed to make a vivid green. Spaced amid the oasis, smooth red sandstone structures of various sizes with squared corners and flattened roofs. Striped banners and awnings connected the palms and shaded the denizens from the desert sun. Dew dripped onto the canvas, carrying the sweet aura of date fruits and diffusing it into the streets with light intensity. Hera¡¯s jaw locked open as Jerine and Clementine lead them through the oasis of Atman Bolo. Merrily waved along by civilians covered head to ankles in cloth and bearing cheap sandals on their feet as well as tall, bulky, dark-skinned individuals wielding flimsy spears, the party¡¯s arrival was a magnet of passerby attention. ¡°Quite the community,¡± Zeta whispered to her. She didn¡¯t understand why he tried to mask a compliment. Jerine and Clementine were in the center of the city¡¯s draw, greeting strangers on the streets in their language and bowing their heads to elders as they walked. A warm aura traveled with them, comforting, like a fire pit ignited to blast away burrs on a cold winter night. Hera remembered times when she and Mrs. Olgue would share the downstairs fire and chat. It was one of the few times they actually spoke to each other. Hera¡¯s eyes drooped as she remembered her years in Aspic. ¡°Ah, and just when it starts, it seems our tour is to be cut short,¡± said Jerine as he came to a stop. He shook his head in disappointment as a trio of three approached them. Like Jerine and Clementine, their passage drew dozens of pairs of eyes and split the crowds as they moved. One man stood in the middle, short and spotted with age. He was flanked by two clones, tall, broad-shouldered men who carried thin, flimsy spears, akin to the brutish men she saw walking around. They wore traditional dresses of identical patterns and opposing color schemes. One red, yellow and spotted with blue. The other teal, purple and spotted with amber. The short one in the center wore half of each, split right down the sternum of his shirt. ¡°Jerine,¡± he whined in a pitched fit, ¡°you¡¯re late.¡± ¡°Sorry, Siallo,¡± Jerine replied. ¡°We were curious of a small detour during our return.¡± The old man¡¯s eyes narrowed their glare upon Hera and Zeta. ¡°Who are they? Enemies?¡± His twin bodyguards tensed, the tips of their spears tilting forward. ¡°No, they¡¯re the detour. With all due respect, Siallo, you shouldn¡¯t jump on all our guests.¡± ¡°Hmph! This land is sacred. You¡¯re too young to comprehend what it means to protect it, insolent boy.¡± Jerine laughed. ¡°Siallo, if you wanted more protection, build some walls.¡± The old man grunted at that suggestion, but Jerine continued. ¡°Atman Bolo is sacred because it is free! Free to outsiders who respect the people and the providence the oasis provides. We should be begging them to come and join us, not scare them away.¡± Clementine cleared her throat. ¡°Jerine, you¡¯re forgetting your introductions again.¡± ¡°Oh, right. Zeta, Hera, this is Siallo Hima. I suppose he is the chieftain of the oasis.¡± ¡°Not suppose, I am!¡± ¡°His authority is a matter of debate.¡± ¡°Foolish youngster,¡± Hima said. He clapped twice, his bodyguards struck the ground with their spears in rhythm. All three of them gently bowed. ¡°Regardless of his crass behavior, I know that Jerine wouldn¡¯t bring dangers to our land. I apologize for my scrutiny and humbly welcome you to Atman Bolo. ¡®Atman¡¯ for spirit, ¡®Bolo¡¯ for strength.¡± Jerine and Clementine reciprocated the Siallo¡¯s gesture and held it in an awkward pause. Clementine opened an eye and nudged Hera. Oh. She clapped her hands and bowed, and then crushed Zeta¡¯s foot so he did the same. The Siallo sniffed and smiled at the performance. ¡°I appreciate your respect, nonetheless.¡± ¡°It¡¯s beautiful. I¡¯ve never seen a locale so filled with culture,¡± Hera said. ¡°History too! If you¡¯d bother to learn it. I¡¯ll be the first to tell you how boring it is,¡± Jerine chuckled. ¡°Foolish youngster!¡± Hima chided. ¡°Have some appreciation for your past, Alibi. And don¡¯t peddle your pessimism on visitors.¡± ¡°I am anything but pessimistic, Siallo.¡± Hima sighed and shook his skull clear of Jerine¡¯s remark. ¡°Now, Jerine, since you¡¯re back, I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ve completed your search?¡± ¡°Of course, Siallo. After I help these two settle into Atman Bolo, Clem and I will speak to you in your office. In short, no, it¡¯s another dead site. We found nothing and nobody.¡± Hima¡¯s clenched his fist, his white-gray beard twitching. ¡°Damn it! I know they aren¡¯t just waking up at night and wandering off. Where are they!¡± Clementine placed her soft hand on Hima¡¯s shoulder. She discretely bent her knees to reach his height. ¡°We will find them Siallo. All of them. Believe in the people of Atman Bolo.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Zeta asked. ¡°Some civilians have¨C¡± Hima pinched Jerine, and Jerine jerked away in a fit. ¡°Foolish youngster! They are new here. Don¡¯t scare them away with that sort of business. It¡¯s important that Atman Bolo remain peaceful in these times.¡± Jerine rubbed the back of his head. His mouth swirled with hesitation. ¡°Whatever you say, Siallo.¡± Hima grumbled and strode away. ¡°I have matters to attend to, but it was a pleasure to meet you both,¡± he said of Hera and Zeta. ¡°I hope your presence here might set Jerine straight.¡± ¡°Not a chance, Siallo.¡± The old man split the crowds with his clones and disappeared once more as the masses obscured them. They proceeded towards the rudimentary fortifications, short wooden walls that surrounded Atman Bolo. Hera wondered if he was accepting Jerine¡¯s suggestion to build taller walls.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Jerine clasped his hands together. ¡°Well, as much as we¡¯d like to show you the bazaar, finding someplace for you to stay is much more important.¡± Clementine planted her face into her fingers. ¡°Jerine, you don¡¯t have to. They can stay at our place.¡± ¡°No, no, no. This is Atman Bolo, after all! We cannot treat guests to such pour accommodations. For all his posturing about tradition, the old man tends to forget his greatest contribution to this oasis. Come and see¡­¡±
¡°Hima Caravanserai! Technically. I refer to it as the Hima Resort.¡± Hera¡¯s jaw dropped again. Zeta¡¯s too. The Caravanserai was by far one of the most massive structures in the oasis. So large, in fact, that they didn¡¯t realize they had entered the premises for a great deal of their walk. Palm trees bundled together to conceal the arches that bore the plaque of the building¡¯s name. Smooth stone paths led them to a lobby. Beautiful carpets complimented the reddish sandstone. Oil lamps lit up the supports, revealing an open ceiling where their flames flickered in the daylight that shot through the massive leaves. Palms whisked in and out of the walkways, and not counting the rooms themselves, they were abundant enough to serve as the walls of the building. Zeta kept making for one of the couches, which cushioned so much the sitter was nearly sucked inside, but Hera kept tugging him along. After all, if a child is left unattended, they are likely to suffocate themselves. They also passed by some netted booths where locals blew smoke from a strange contraption. A ball-bottomed flask with an incredibly long spire containing a liquid that bubbled when used. Two cords ran to either end, and the users would put the ends to their mouth. One inhalation later and the clouds exhumed from their breath. They looked uncommonly pleased. Jerine staggered back to Zeta and whispered, ¡°I¡¯ll introduce you to those tonight.¡± He winked. ¡°That sounds amazing!¡± he said. Hera rolled her eyes. The group approached the counter, where a concierge greeted them. ¡°A room for two. Make it a suite,¡± Jerine said, passing a pile of silver Nibbles. Hera¡¯s balance was almost lost. She didn¡¯t expect that much money to pop out of his pocket. And with ease. The concierge accepted them but still seemed confused. ¡°Two? Is there not four of you?¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re residents. It¡¯s for them.¡± ¡°Would you prefer the Habib accommodation?¡± Jerine examined Zeta and Hera then grinned. ¡°Absolutely.¡± ¡°Jerine, that isn¡¯t funny,¡± his sister said. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure they won¡¯t mind.¡±
Agenda number one. Learn the language. Why? Because Hera nearly had a heart attack when they opened the door to the ¡®suite.¡¯ Habib = Lover. As they learned when seeing the rose-colored room. Incense dominated the hallway as the door opened. There were more paper hearts on the bed than Hera cared to count, and the dozens of candles bunched at the edges of the room were already lit. Great expectations. She almost blacked out when she saw the bathroom. The details were foggy after she first laid eyes upon it, but the only vivid recollection going through her mind was that tub is not meant for one. Beyond the regular bar of animal fat that usually counted for ¡®soap¡¯, several other boxes contained ''special scents.¡¯ Calmly, she shut the door. ¡°No. We need another room.¡± ¡°Oh, come on, Hera,¡± said Zeta, strolling inside in a casual, undignified manner. He looked like a peasant, dirtying the grounds of his betters as he dripped filth across the flo¨C Whoa. Where did that come from? She was starting to sound like¡­ like them. The person her mother shed a stream of tears over. The person she told Hera she would have to be to survive at their level, to progress in society. Best stay away from that memory. ¡°We can¡¯t refuse Jerine. He paid a great amount of Nibbles to get us this room. We need to be grateful.¡± Snapping back to reality, Hera said, ¡°You can¡¯t be serious. Zeta, this is unacceptable.¡± ¡°Forget the implications, Hera. A room¡¯s a room. You¡¯re the one making it something bigger than it is.¡± Bigger than it is? I¡¯m going to kill you. ¡°No, you have a perfect right to refuse my brother. He thinks he¡¯s hilarious,¡± Clementine said at the doorway. From the hall, Jerine¡¯s coughing, loud cackles echoes into the room. ¡°We¡¯ll get you a different room. He¡¯s the moron who wasted his money.¡± ¡°Absolutely not. We will take what we have, and as a Servant of Humanity, I vow to pay it back during our stay here. Besides, it¡¯s not like we¡¯re going to be in here all the time.¡± As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Besides, Hera also didn¡¯t want to take more out of Jerine¡¯s pocket than necessary, even if it was self-inflicted. ¡°If you say so,¡± said Clementine. ¡°There is a statue of Valeri in the footlocker to keep you busy. Jerine and I are going to speak with the Siallo. Come look for us in the morning, and we¡¯ll show you the Bazaar.¡± ¡°If it gets me out of this place¡­¡± Clementine waved and then shut the door. Hera heard the sound of springs squealing and turned around. Zeta lay on the bed, crushing the paper hearts and smiling like a cat. ¡°So, wanna divide up the bed, or do you want to share?¡± Hera took in two deep breaths. Zen, peace, tranquility. She let all the pacifism flood to her mind. Then, she sent the full force of Neural Fighter to her fingers. And, as her mother always told her, went for the eyes. ADIN CALAHAN, a Bazaar cobbler Adin yawned as he left the Caravanserai. Damn it, my wife¡¯s going to be pissed. It was midnight, but the hookah made him lose track of time. He blamed his friends for keeping him there so long. Well, nothing could be done now. Unless Adin could sneak home and avoid his wife¡¯s watchful gaze, he had no other option but to face the consequences. Hopefully the high would last long enough to lessen the migraine of his wife¡¯s screaming. In Adin¡¯s opinion, Shalla should be grateful. Back in his grandfather¡¯s day, one man had many wives. She would have been nothing special had tradition trickled down into his generation, and he could kick her to the curb if she dared to speak back. Hell, Adin heard rumors that polygamy was still in place in some other edges of the desert. Maybe I can trick Shallah into moving there. No. If he were to leave the paradise of Atman Bolo, Shallah would not be joining him. Something zipped over his head, and as if ducking a glass bottle thrown by his angry wife, Adin curled into a ball to avoid it. He looked up. Nothing. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Once again, he blamed the hookah for his hallucinations. It¡¯s going to be a miserable trek home. Another zip. This time from one alley to the next. It wasn¡¯t human, and it wasn¡¯t an animal. It¡¯s arm bulged, and something protruded from the back. Maybe it was human? What? How much did Adin smoke? Shick! Something tapped against his ankle, a sharp, almost metallic substance. He flipped around to nothing, yet he still felt air blowing against his neck. He flipped around again. Nothing; the air on his neck was still there. A slight shadow caught his peripheral, and Adin froze. It wasn¡¯t of his own will, his body just stopped moving. Then he felt the pain, the hot drilling hole in his back, but soon that vanished too. He went numb and collapsed, his body stuck in a rigid, statuesque pose. The feminine shadow stood above him, her boots inches away from his unmoving head. She wore a brown cloak, and he could see a wicked smile, tracking its every tremble with his eyes, the only things that could move. ¡°Was I just too fast for you?¡± she said with a laugh. ¡°You do need to be more attentive if you want to survive in this world.¡± She kneeled down, and Adin could see something wagging behind her cloak. A tail. A big, scaly, two-pronged tail dripping with red and green liquid. He assumed the red was his blood. ¡°Unfortunately, I have other plans for you. Do me a favor and die, okay? Desiccate.¡± Her hand, at least the one that wasn¡¯t hidden beneath her cloak, gripped his neck. It was a warm touch at first, then cold, but the shivers weren¡¯t from her. It was from the energy leaking out of his system. It was his skin shrinking, shriveling, wrinkling into a brown, dry raisin. It was his eyes sinking into his head before popping, his voice crying until it croaked. His consciousness witnessing his own decomposition until his brain melted into a muddy stew.
Desiccate - Death, Liquid: User constantly deprives target body of all nutrients until the target is nothing more than a lifeless husk. (5855).
  • (A) Maintain physical contact.
  • Although a user can leech the nutrients off the target if they desire, it is not mandatory. This is done by force of will.
  • For normal human builds, a maximum of ten seconds is necessary for even the strongest warriors to be dead and deprived.
  • (!) If the target is not killed by Desiccate but is otherwise released from the user¡¯s grip early, the lost nutrients will automatically be replenished. If they were stolen, the user will lose their gains.
2-4 Nightsick ZETA Zeta hated camping. Specifically, he disliked sleeping outdoors. His classmates would always pull pranks on him, stuffing insects into his bedroll while he was unconscious on the grassy knoll. It¡¯s why he developed arachnophobia. They didn¡¯t use a regular spider, either. They just had to find the palm-sized, eight-legged, orange striped, poisonous Hellion Spider, probably the only one on all of Axle Island. None of them knew that the spider¡¯s bite could disintegrate flesh within minutes. Zeta was lucky the thing was docile, even though the image of that fiend¡¯s eyes burned vividly into his memory. When Sir Kagan learned of their ¡®friendly joke,¡¯ he made sure that Zeta¡¯s classmates didn¡¯t skip a beat as they ran the steep of the mountain three consecutive times. The pranks never returned, and Sir Kagan banned them from going anywhere more than a kilometer from the mountain¡¯s base. Until the night he passed, that is. Sir Kagan¡­ Regardless, Zeta was sleeping in the wind. Hera had made it adamantly clear that he had ¡®lost his privileges¡¯ to the suite ever since that harmless joke. She ensured the balcony¡¯s crimson drapes were tied shut. Her erratic, cattle prod touch had bruised his eyelids, and he struggled with the weight of keeping them open. The balcony was not wide enough for a man of his height to lay down in, so he sat on the rail, rested his head against the wall and balanced himself on the thin guard. It was decent practice. Thrilling, with the stake of his life hanging over his head if he messed up. That was true peace, the acceptance of death, not that Zeta had any plans to die in the near future. Two circles enlightened the night sky, one white and the other a shade of reddened rust. The twin moons, Dracos and Koios, orbited close together, shaped like the Eastern Shelf symbol Sir Kagan once showed him. He forgot its name but remembered it represented balance. The moons were so far away that their position in the sky never changed. The vantage from that balcony was the same as the summit of Greenwich. He wondered if someone was viewing them from there too. Greenwich. Sir Kagan. Zeta was nightsick, where deep emotions and memories rose to the surface because he was both tired and too exhausted to sleep. A breeze swept across the streets below, and the draft rose to glide across Zeta¡¯s skin. Black Meridian, unhooked from his belt and leaning at his side, shivered as the air crossed it. He steadied the sensitive blade with his hand and smiled. It was here with him now, in his hands, in his protection, and in return, Sir Kagan¡¯s spirit would be there to protect him from the outdoors he despised to sleep in. Zeta analyzed the tops of the palms of the Atman Bolo oasis, and then he began to laugh at himself. What was he? Stupid? He was an adult now; nature would not hurt him. Atman Bolo, this desert paradise, could not harm a living soul. Zeta let his eyes shut, and then they didn¡¯t open until morning.
His skin was a degree tanner, and Zeta¡¯s eyes were singed by the bright glare of the desert sun. After shaking off the initial shock, a few more stars on the balcony caught his eyes with their glimmer. Zeta smiled when his eyes returned to focus. Two shining crystals, gray and green, rested on the rail aside a small yellow note. He picked it up. For getting us through the desert¡­ -H ¡°Read,¡± Zeta said with both sigmas in his hands. One was of the ten in the Standard Set, the only sigmas of that grade. Pocket Inventory, like the little rift Hera opened when she wanted to store something. He could hear her voice in his head, saying ¡®take care of your own crap.¡¯ The other sigma was one he did not recognize, not among his allies nor his foes. Taser, an Elementary Lightning sigma. The only possibility was that they pulled it from the Lilick Brothers whose lives he advocated for. It was a frightening prospect to know that not every foe would use every sigma in their arsenal during an encounter. That, or maybe they just didn¡¯t get the chance to use them. Zeta smirked. He employed both. As usual, the sigmas shattered without resistance in his hands, the glittering specks of the former crystals melting into thin air. Zeta entered the suite through the now-loosened drapes. Everything was immaculate as if no soul had touched the room in weeks except to clean it. After reassuring himself that he had not somehow entered the wrong room, he noticed another paper note on the door handle. Went to meet Jerine and Clementine. We are going to the Bazaar. Don¡¯t follow me. Look for work. -H His heart sank. There were most likely sigmas in that market, and he despised the idea of missing out on perusing them. Zeta sighed. It didn¡¯t matter, he had some Divinity to accumulate anyway. Recalling what Clementine said yesterday, he opened the bed¡¯s footlocker and retrieved a familiar bronze statue. The Angel of Valeri. Her hands were clasped together, eyes shut. Her wings curved into a thin, tall heart behind her spine and neck. Flowing curly hair split them. She wore nothing but a plain tunic, the wrinkles in the fabric detailed to every blemish. Overall, it was nothing impressive, and Zeta didn¡¯t understand what gave this statue more power than any other.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. He placed it upright on the footlocker and kneeled before it. The sounds of the street were muffled, leaving the room in a tranquil silence. Perfect for meditation, a practice that Sir Kagan had taught him to clear his head. When he saw Hera in Prayer, he assumed it was the same thing. Meditation never worked in clearing Zeta¡¯s head, but if it supposedly had a divine connection, he was all for it. He shut his eyes, and there was a buzzing in his ears. His heart jumped, and his prayer broke immediately. Zeta broke into a clammy sweat but brushed it off as nothing. However, when he tried to return to Prayer, he felt nothing but satisfaction. What? He looked at his palm to Read his own score. Once again, it had filled to completion, and his Prayer was gathering Excess. ¡°Display,¡± he said, envisioning the Taser sigma. After refreshing himself on its activation and other conditions, he found nothing to explain the mysterious accumulation. With his index and little fingers extended, Zeta said, ¡°Taser,¡± and a charge of lightning connected the two digits. He could feel it, crackling harmlessly against his skin in a vivid, bright blue of danger. His hand twitched with the electrical stimulation. Zeta celebrated to himself. He was alone, but he didn¡¯t care. On Greenwich, sigmas were left entirely to his imagination, based solely on the hints of Sir Kagan. In Aspic, they became a reality, actual, tangible superpowers. Both times, they were awesome to behold. JORN VAGOS, Operative of Aspic (former) Vagos¡¯s head erupted from the fresh, cold waters of the oasis¡¯s spring. Why is it so damn hot! That should have been an obvious question. The desert of the Western Shelf was far more prone to heat waves than the rest of the world. Still, Vagos never felt like his body would adjust. Every day his soul was simmering. His Superior Swimmer sigma had carried him across the sea from Aspic, but that sigma was not designed for such a long passage, and Vagos wished he considered that before taking a plunge in Aspic. Stupid, stupid! They were just artillery shots, you fool! Since Aspic was dying, he had grown eager to leave under any excuse possible. That motive suppressed his sense of rationality. To make matters worse, the first bit of land was nothing but sand. Vagos was lucky he knew where the nearest settlement, a pristine oasis smacked in the middle of the desert, and for the fact that he was a Liquid focus. Arid lands, the antithesis of everything his powerset stood for. He climbed out of the spring and returned to the palm where his cloak and clothes lay freshly washed of sand. Another brown cloak leaned idly against the palm trunk, her grin wide as she stared at his bare white figure. ¡°My, my, Vagos. You certainly don¡¯t disappoint in the finer things in life,¡± she said, biting her lip. Everything in Vagos clenched tight. The hairs on his head and beard stiffened like pine needles. ¡°Of course you would find me now of all times,¡± he said, donning the light clothes and padding the Pentagon assigned to their operatives. He picked up his badge, a small metal square engraved with a diamond and five short vertical lines in its center, and stuck it on his belt. The badge was a tiresome chore to carry around, but it was needed for an Operative to verify themselves with others, and it was meant to be concealed at all costs. Unfortunately, it wasn¡¯t needed for dealing with this woman, because she and Vagos had crossed paths one too many times before. Vagos scoffed. ¡°I arrived here several days ago, Elana, and I looked everywhere for you. Now you show your face?¡± Her thin lips wired together with the slightest flinch. ¡°Jorn, dear, you¡¯re an Operative. It¡¯s quite shameful if you couldn¡¯t manage to find a simple hideout. Or maybe you want to admit you¡¯re not as good as you think you are.¡± ¡°Not a chance, bitch.¡± She stifled her laugh. Her two-pronged tail wagged wildly in the wind. In every sense of the word, Elana Kortikar acted like a dog and a rabid one at that. ¡°Although, I am curious as to why you¡¯re here. Did you come all this way to visit me? I think I¡¯m quite the vacation.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t possibly know that. If the man is sleeping, he can¡¯t give you his opinion.¡± ¡°Give me some credit, Jorn. They weren¡¯t sleeping, they were dead.¡± Vagos cringed. ¡°You disgust me.¡± If he had more empathy is his system, he would hurl into the bushes, but that meant admitting he was weak. Not a chance, not for her. Elana didn¡¯t deserve a dime more of his attention than any other Operative. If anything, she deserved less. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re not here for a ¡®special encounter,¡¯ then I¡¯ll assume it¡¯s because of that nasty business in Aspic.¡± ¡°So you heard?¡± ¡°This oasis isn¡¯t on the edge of the world, Jorn. The Disciples want to speak to you.¡± ¡°I know they do, and I need your Transmitter. I have my report for the Pillar of the Mind, and I¡¯d like to deliver it before she gets angry with me.¡± She raised a mocking eyebrow, her eyes masking mischief. ¡°I don¡¯t see why I should care about your standing in our little society.¡± Vagos strode forth, a finger in her face, centimeters from the bridge of her nose. Spit foamed from his mouth. ¡°Because if you don¡¯t, the Operative of Atman Bolo is going to need an emergency replacement. I don¡¯t have time for your games, Elana.¡± His Chilling Presence was activated at full blast. Unfortunately, so was hers. They canceled out. She didn¡¯t flinch. Elana¡¯s grin grew wider. ¡°Making threats? You¡¯ve grown desperate. Don¡¯t pretend to be something you¡¯re not. The Operative of Atman Bolo is an innocent spy minding her own business and doing her job. It¡¯s the Operative of Aspic whose in deep shit right now. Remember that.¡± Vagos¡¯s finger curled back into his clenched fist. He took several steps back into the shade of the palm trees. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll lend you the Transmitter, but I want your assistance in hatching a little plot of my own. You see, there¡¯s someone in Atman Bolo who I would just love to wrap my tail around.¡± Vagos glanced up. He had heard rumors of people disappearing in the oasis, and a part of his heart told him he was about to receive the answer. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±
Taser - Lightning: Creates a high-voltage charge between the user¡¯s fingers that can quickly incapacitate a foe. (115).
  • (A) Extend the index and little fingers on the user¡¯s hand.
  • Taser can be used with both hands simultaneously.
Notice Hi. I apologize for missing both the 2-5 and 2-6 deadlines, so I''m here to clarify what''s going on. I''ve made so many revisions to Arc 2 that it''s becoming a mess to try and rewrite and rectify. I''ve also been feeling disappointed in myself. I feel like I''m putting out sub-par products with each release, and I''m tired of it. Even if it''s only for a few people, I want every chapter of Black Meridian to be amazing, and I don''t believe I have been delivering.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I''m scrapping the three-day rule and will post arbitrarily. The truth is, after Arc 2, I think I''m going to stop and completely rewrite both the world and story of Black Meridian from scratch. This story is better as a complete product, so I''m going to complete it from beginning to end before posting again. It might take a while, but I''ll at least try to complete Arc 2 as it currently stands before I stop. I owe it to readers. I''ll also keep both arcs posted so I can receive criticism from these works and apply it to a (hopefully) superior rewrite. Thank you for your support! -ZQ