《Flux Core [A System Apocalypse LitRPG Adventure]》 CH 1: Glioblastoma Reid screamed as the mutated red salamander bit into his forearm. Its yellow slitted eyes burned with madness as it wiggled two stumps at him. Shards of bone poked through slowly regenerating limbs, just barely missing Reid with each swipe. It let out a gurgling screech through Reid¡¯s blood and chomped down a second time. Bone snapped as white-hot pain overwhelmed every other sense. The salamander shook Reid like a chew toy, blood and flesh spattering the surrounding trees before it flung him to the side. Pain overwhelmed his senses again as he landed on his arm, bones now stabbing through the skin where his forearm was bent at a 40 degree angle. A gash on his right leg was also still bleeding, and he had a number of cuts on his abdomen where the salamander¡¯s arm bones had reached him. He breathed shallow and fast, doing his best to stay conscious as he flipped himself over and leaned against a nearby tree. A few meters away, the salamander turned its attention toward noises in the forest. It wasn¡¯t fair. Reid had overcome so much just to be in this damn forest. All for it to lead to this goddamn monster. He cursed the system and whoever created it. He cursed every god he could think of. He cursed the damn salamander. That monster should¡¯ve been mostly dead, but was still rampaging like it didn¡¯t have a knife stuck in its head, and arms completely missing. The salamander lowered its head before screeching and tearing off towards a trio of black bears in the distance, tail whipping behind as it kicked up leaves and moss. Seconds later, he heard the first bellows from the bears. He winced as the bellows turned to moans, then silence. Black bears weren¡¯t usually confrontational, which meant the trio was likely a mother trying to protect her cubs. The salamander was a vicious, terrible thing. Four feet tall and full of rage, it walked on hind legs, and when its arms were intact, had a set of sharp, opaque crystal claws that seemed near indestructible. Its wounds all healed at an accelerated rate, and so far, there seemed to be no way to kill the thing. He¡¯d even sunk a knife into its head, but the blade had completely stopped when it reached the skull. That blow had left Reid open, and allowed the beast to chomp its maw full of hooked teeth down on Reid¡¯s arm. As he flitted in and out of consciousness, Reid thought about Sara, Susan, and the completely insane events that had led to this moment.
One Week Ago Reid stared at the mirror. A small red spot was growing where he¡¯d nicked himself with his razor. He should¡¯ve put a new head in, but thought he could make this one just last till the weekend. He tilted his head so he could see the patch of his brown hair that was already turning gray. His mother-in-law had told him that he would look more distinguished with it. His wife, Susan, had said his grey hair would be hot. It just made him feel ancient. He would be turning 32 this year, in just a few days. 32 year olds weren¡¯t supposed to have big patches of grey hair already growing in. His father hadn¡¯t started greying until Reid was in high school ¨C which, actually, might be a connection. Sara was entering her senior year in high school, and even though she was a great daughter, it was still stressful as hell. But still not as bad as what Reid¡¯s parents must have felt. Sara was older now than Reid and Susan had been when they¡¯d had her. Being teen parents wasn¡¯t easy, and both his parents and in-laws had essentially raised Sara until she was about five years old. He could still remember the shock on their faces, the four of them sitting together on a faded flower-print sofa while Susan and Reid stood. Susan had been holding his hand so tightly that he had pins and needles when their parents made them go into different rooms and reaffirm their decision to keep the baby, and raise it. In the years that followed, Reid now realized that Sara¡¯s grandparents had tried damn hard to have her as often as possible so Reid and Susan could get to be kids just a bit longer, or just a bit more. They¡¯d demanded the two of them still have club activities and social lives with their peers, and it was one of the greatest gifts they¡¯d ever been given. When Reid was 21, both his parents had passed away in a car accident. The other driver, Joel, was a local drunk, only a few years older than Reid. He was also the nephew of the first officer on scene, who had ¡®forgotten¡¯ to give Joel a sobriety test. The hearing, where Joel was let off with community service, was the first time Reid had let his anger get the better of him. Reid wasn¡¯t a large man, but he was athletic. Years of baseball and basketball had at least kept him fit. At 5¡¯10¡±, he was nearly four inches shorter than Joel. But when that smug fuck had smiled and waved at him walking out the courtroom, Reid jumped him before Susan, his in-laws, or the bailiff could stop him. His right hand still hurt on cold days where he¡¯d broken his own bones trying to cave in Joel¡¯s skull. The outburst had cost Joel three teeth, and most of the vision in his left eye. It had cost Reid 4 months in Jail, and his entire life¡¯s trajectory. He had to drop out of college, and burned through most of the money his parents had left them. Inheriting their house had given them all a place to stay, and a friend had ended up getting Reid hired at a call center before he and Susan had to start worrying about potentially selling the house to make ends meet. It was a modest, stressful life. Reid hated his job, and the subhuman treatment he received from entitled idiots day after day, but it let him pay the bills while Susan finished nursing school. Sara kept him grounded. No matter how awful things were, he knew he¡¯d come home to her smiling, a tiny carbon copy of her mother. She was perfect, in so many ways. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. And so, years had passed. Sara started school. Susan spent a few years as a travel nurse so they could afford to eventually send their daughter to college. The friend that hired Reid moved on from the call center, and Reid was given his old manager position. Reid made PB&J¡¯s and packed them into a well-worn lunchbox, went to work, and did what he could to help support his family. It was a good life. Sara was about to enter her senior year. She was taller than her mother now, still a carbon-copy of her, aside from having Reid¡¯s green eyes. She¡¯d developed a love for hiking that helped her branch out from books and boardgames ¨C though Reid saw absolutely nothing wrong with someone spending every waking moment turning pages and rolling dice. And that had nothing to do with his own high school years. Not at all. Sara had taken Susan and Reid out to hike a few trails near home, and then spent months asking them both to let her plan a family hiking trip for Reid¡¯s birthday. Reid¡¯s attempts to dissuade her by setting report-card goals had completely ¡°backfired¡±, and he¡¯d ¡°reluctantly¡± agreed to turn his normal birthday-weekend trip into Sara¡¯s hiking adventure. It didn¡¯t matter that he was going to do it anyway, but seeing Sara actually push herself had been rewarding for everyone ¨C and resulted in his daughter having 3 AP courses planned for her senior year. He winced as a bolt of pain shot through his skull. The headaches were getting worse, now. They¡¯d keep getting worse, he knew. Susan had told him, repeatedly, to see a doctor about his headaches for months. He hadn¡¯t thought much of them. He¡¯d been an idiot, and told his wife the issues were no big deal. When he did finally make an appointment with his doctor, she¡¯d given him a few recommended tests that he was able to complete on the campus by her office, and still had enough time to grab an iced latte on his way into the office. The follow up had happened on a day he and Susan were already scheduled to run errands. In the morning, they¡¯d gone shopping for some last-minute hiking trip items. Reid had scoffed at the Christmas decorations already on sale ¨C It was only August, damnit, Christmas could wait its turn. Susan, of course, lit up like a neon sign. Christmas was her favorite holiday, and she always took a special joy in seeing Reid and Sara open their gifts. She¡¯d even pressure them every year to start the gift giving a day or two early. Reid had needed to drag her away from the much-too-early holiday displays just to get to his appointment on time. They¡¯d gone into the office together, and were sat down on a leather cushioned sofa with metal armrests. The first 10 minutes after the doctor said Glioblastoma were a blur. Words like position, inoperable, and advanced kept repeating, but Reid had all but shut down while Susan pleaded for different answers. Then, they got to the real center of the shit sandwich. 4-6 months. That had broken Reid out of his stupor. If he was really lucky, he¡¯d live just long enough to die on valentine¡¯s day. Susan had gone silent and stared blankly at the wall. The doctor was staring at papers on her desk. Reid had tried to muster his courage and wrangle his thoughts. He¡¯d known he needed to get Susan to look at him, needed to let her know everything was going to be fine, that this wouldn¡¯t break either of them, and that he was going to stay positive. He¡¯d grabbed her arm and put on his best playful smile. ¡°Well,¡± he started in a sing-song voice ¡°I guess we get to open presents early this Christmas.¡± All was quiet for a moment, then Susan had started sobbing. Reid really was an idiot. He and Susan had argued, after that. Talked about estate planning and getting things set up with their lawyer. Tried to figure out how Reid¡¯s life insurance actually worked for a terminal diagnosis. Reid didn¡¯t want to tell Sara. She already had enough on her plate. He could wait, until she chose a school. Until she took her first finals of the school year. Until after the hiking trip. Until he couldn¡¯t wait anymore. Anything to spare her just a bit longer before she needed to know. In their bedroom, Susan was balling up long socks and stuffing them into a duffel bag. She sighed through her nose and looked at him in the mirror. Reid stared at her and tried to save her image in his mind. Her eyes were fractals of dark stained wood, split by a pierced aquiline nose above bow-shaped lips. Her once-blonde hair was getting closer to brown every year, and flowed down past her small cleft chin and shoulders. Susan put down the socks she was holding and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and put her forehead on his back. Her voice was soft and muffled. ¡°We¡¯ll figure this out. But if you really want Sara to not know, you need to stop looking at me like that. She¡¯ll figure out something¡¯s wrong. And you¡¯re an awful liar.¡± Reid pulled Susan around into a hug, then looked at himself in the mirror. His emotions were, in fact, written clearly on his face. He was an idiot. If Sara saw him now, she might refuse to leave until he told her what was wrong. He smiled at the thought of her putting her foot down and threatening to cancel the hiking trip she¡¯d planned.
One week, a loooong car ride, and hours of hiking later, Reid winced as he emerged from the outhouse. A line had formed while he was inside, and those towards the front had heard him heaving up the contents of his stomach. He declined a water bottle from a woman that looked near his age and started down the hill towards the trail. The nausea was new, and harder to hide than the persistent headaches he¡¯d been dealing with. Physical exertion brought on worse symptoms, and the strain of the day¡¯s hike had seen him stop twice to vomit. The first time, he¡¯d made an excuse and been able to get far enough away from Susan and Sara that they didn¡¯t hear him. This time, he happened to be close to an outhouse, up a small hill off of the main trail. Susan had given him a pointed look and ensured Sara didn¡¯t follow him. He pushed down a growing feeling of self-pity at his situation as he saw Sara and Susan in the distance. He needed to be strong, he needed to find a way to be there for his daughter, for his wife. If he was headstrong enough, maybe he could even be part of the 5% that made it past the 6 month mark. Resolve hardened deep within him. He¡¯d push himself as far as possible. It wasn¡¯t a question of whether he could do it, he just needed to. Concern crossed Sara¡¯s face, and Reid panicked for a moment before realizing she was looking behind him. He turned to find the woman that had offered him water and the man that had been in line behind her jogging to catch up to him. ¡°Ah, sorry,¡± The man called out with a distinctly Australian accent. ¡°Before you set off, I¡¯ve got a mate with a bicycle a ways up. If you¡¯re sick, we could loan it to ya.¡± The woman beside him rammed an elbow into his ribs. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m James Benson, and this is Marlene¡­ Benson.¡± He added, scratching the back of his head with a grin. ¡°Thanks, I think I can make it but appreciate the offer. Wouldn¡¯t want to leave my family by themselves anyway.¡± He made a sweeping motion towards Susan and Sara. Sara smiled wide and started jogging towards him. Then, reality snapped. CH 2: Winning the Lottery Reid stood in a cold, small, square room with no doors or windows. It was completely empty aside from him. The walls cast blurry reflected outlines of him off each wall. There was no light, but he could see the whole room. It felt disorienting. A blaring, email-notification-style ping sounded out and Reid covered his ears. A male voice like an old game show host followed it as it boomed out, full of cheer. ** CONGRATULATIONS PLANET A39245ULD4** **You¡¯ve won the Planetary Awakening Lottery!** ** Your entry in this century¡¯s drawing, submitted via the entity known as VOYAGER SPACE PROBE, was selected from a pool of 8.231x10^247 applicants! ** Your Lottery Prize preference was not selected. Default settings will be used. ** Enhancing General Planetary Energy... Congratulations! Your Planet evolved from Rank G to Rank E! A quick, high, D-C-D-E happy chime accompanied each ¡°Congratulations¡±. This was insane. And those chimes were intensely annoying. Reid started to wince at the noise with each passing message. The messages were coming through as audio and physical text. As the messages went on, a growing set of semi-translucent game-style notification windows filled his field of view. ** Enhancing eligible wildlife to beast forms¡­ Congratulations! 15% of wildlife has successfully evolved! ** Awarding skills to sentient species¡­ Congratulations!** Skills are applied. Skills? Rarities? Evolutions? Reid¡¯s mind raced to figure out what the hell was happening. He started to ask half a dozen questions, but it came out as a single word ¨C ¡°Why?¡±. The voice changed for the next message, like a parent speaking to their toddler. **Basic Question Detected! Answer. Skills help all sentient life make their way in the world. From farming, to mining, swordplay to archery, skills help you grow, and grow with you! Since your planet is newly awakened, skills are awarded in bulk. ¡°You¡­ you answer questions?¡± Reid asked, still uncertain the thing had been talking to him. ** YES! User asked a basic question, which general awakening AI is allowed to answer! ¡°Okay, right¡­¡± Reid started. There were still way too many questions to ask, so he just blurted the ones that seemed the most relevant right now, ¡°So, what¡¯s awakening? And, Where am I? And what does Rank E mean?¡± **Multiple questions detected. Customer Service Mode Engaged. Valued user, I will try to answer your questions in order. For efficiency, please refrain from asking new questions until all answers are given.** The voice had changed again. Everyone knew what a customer service voice was, and this thing had just used its version. Reid¡¯s mouth hung open. Was¡­ this thing calling him a Karen? ** Answer. Awakening is the truth of the universe. Fledgling planets like yours often compete for the chance to awaken, which unlocks many of the benefits other planets enjoy, including Skills, system marketplaces, Enhanced Planetary Resources, and paths to personal power. Answer: You are in a subspace. You will return to your world once the process is complete. Answer: Rank E is your planet¡¯s awakened rank. A planetary rank is a combination of Planet Size, Planetary Resources, Crystal Deposits, and Ambient Skill Energy.** Reid took a moment to try and process everything the odd voice had just said. There were other planets with life, competing to awaken, and doing that gave those planets some sort of upgrade that included skills, power, and a marketplace. This was sounding a lot like a game, and not in a good way. He needed to get more information on the basics of- **Questions Answered. Pause Detected. User will hold Further Questions until process is complete.** ** Enabling Clean Slate Protocol ¨C removing negative statuses, illnesses, and diseases from sentient species¡­ Congratulations! Clean Slate Protocol Enacted with 99.99999998% Success!** Wait¡­ negative statuses¡­ ailments¡­ cures? Reid fumbled for hope amid his rising panic. ** Standardization started... Languages Unified to System Standard. Currencies converted to System Credits. Basic system measurements applied. Standard Relative Time settings applied.** ** Applying Standard System Rarity Levels to all objects and talents¡­** No ¨C no. Reid needed to get back to the last message. If this thing was some powerful entity that cured diseases, surely it could help him. Maybe it already had. **ERROR** Clean Slate Protocol Failed to resolve terminal status in unawakened being, Reid Oliver Calderwall. Report to your closest beacon or healer to address the error. Reid¡¯s hope popped. This thing, whatever power it was, didn¡¯t cure him. It was official. This system thing sucked. Anger boiled in Reid¡¯s gut. **CONGRATULATIONS** You are one of 7,347,455,012 beings of your species on your planet awarded a skill. You have been granted Strengthening [Basic] Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. **WARNING** Skills are dangerous for unawakened beings on basic worlds. Skills are now locked for your protection. Please report to your closest beacon to unlock your skill(s) and complete your awakening. Skills. Was Basic good? What was the scale? What the hell was even happening? And the ¡°of your species¡± line didn¡¯t slip past Reid either. What other species could get skills? **ERROR** Terminal Status detected for unawakend being, Reid Oliver Calderwall. Progressing skill tree to compensate. Hardening [common] awarded. You are one of 3,117,622,215 beings on your planet awarded a common skill! ¡°What the fuck?¡± Reid swore at the ceiling, ¡°I get a special skill for having cancer? Fuck you.¡± **ERROR** Terminal Status detected for unawakend being, Reid Oliver Calderwall. Progressing skill tree to compensate. Calcification [Uncommon] awarded. You are one of 7,000,941 beings on your planet awarded an uncommon skill. Messages continued as Reid wondered internally what the hell was going on. Was this thing really giving him some kind of reward for being terminally ill? Why would it do that? And ¨C why did the message change from species to beings? **ERROR** Terminal Status detected for unawakend being, Reid Oliver Calderwall. Progressing skill tree to compensate. Petrification [Rare] awarded. You are one of 304 beings on your planet awarded a rare skill. **ERROR** Maximum awarded skills reached. Unawakend being¡¯s terminal status cannot be balanced. Reid Calderwall Exceeds Thresholds for: [Terminal Status]. Reid Calderwall has set a new record for [Terminal Status]. ¡°What in the flying fu-¡° Reid was interrupted by another shrill notification and even more boisterous set of chimes than before. **PERFORMING SYSTEM CALCULATIONS ¡­ **UNAWAKENED BEING REID CALDERWALLL OF PLANET A39245ULD94 SET AS DATA PRIORITY. SHACKLE DEPLOYED FROM BACKUP RESOURCES. TRANSFERRING LOCAL CONTROL TO SHACKLE** The room around him shook as shadows played out inside the reflections of the wall. Light flickered, and Reid nearly lost his footing. A thrum sounded out amidst the vibration, only fading when the shaking subsided. That was damn weird. The shadows in the walls hadn¡¯t come from inside the room ¨C the light source, or lack thereof, hadn¡¯t changed, and Reid¡¯s body didn¡¯t seem to be the cause. Instead, it was like he was looking at a crowded event full of people through frosted glass. It gave him an unnerved feeling. A different voice continued speaking, even louder than the last. **CONGRATULATIONS** You have been deemed an outlier! **OUTLIER STATUS CONFIRMED** **CONGRATULATIONS** Your outlying statistic is: Terminal Status! System calculations gave you a 4,000% chance of dying before awakening! That¡¯s more than 30x the previous record! You¡¯re completely fucked, Reid! Reid blankly stared at the last line and decided he was dreaming. In a coma. In a mental hospital. **SPECIAL PROVISION AWARDED** Protection! You have been granted system protection! You probably won¡¯t die from monsters, skills, or anything else that¡¯s driving your 4,000% chance of dying until you awaken! Get your expiring ass to a beacon so I can record your outlier data! And do it fast! You¡¯re so important to me, I¡¯ve basically made you immortal! Reid barely had time to wonder what the protection did before the notifications continued. He was starting to get dizzy, and made an effort to stare at the floor. **SPECIAL PROVISION AWARDED** Direct Shackle Communication! You¡¯ve been granted Direct Shackle Communication! That¡¯s only happened, like, four or five times in the last eon. That means you can bask in our infinite knowledge without needing a system prompt! We¡¯re going to be such good friends. Just get to a beacon so we can sample that sweet, sweet outlier data, good buddy. That didn¡¯t sound good. That sounded bad. What the heck was a shackle, and what did it want with him and his cancer? And why was there more than one announcer voice? Reid rubbed at his temples while he tried to sort out his next round of questions. **ERROR** Return location for individual Reid Oliver Calderwall not found. Don¡¯t worry, Reid! That means the system thinks you¡¯re already supposed to be dead, so it didn¡¯t set aside a place to put you! Reid¡¯s mouth hung open for a moment before he shouted, ¡°Who are you?!¡± Volume, Reid. We are Shackle 213, and we assist you because the system wills it. When our business is complete, we will return to the collective. **ERROR** default return coordinates overwritten **WARNING** Your return coordinates are in a beast domain. Beacons do not spawn in beast domains. Reach the highlighted checkpoint to find your closest beacon. Don¡¯t worry about either of those notifications, Reid! The default coordinates are in the middle of a really big ocean, and your biology doesn¡¯t let you breathe underwater. That could have been bad! Reid took in the messages for a moment. ¡°What does that mean? I was with my wife and daughter before. Are they going to be in the beast domain, too?¡± Everything was moving far too quickly. There was a system, it was powerful, but couldn¡¯t heal him, and now he was being told he was ¡®protected¡¯ for a time, even though he was supposed to be dead already. Did it mean his cancer? Reid had been pushing himself already for a while, but that couldn¡¯t be the case. Right? How could this system thing know he was supposed to be dead? What really seemed like a pressing issue, though, was that he was going to be put into a beast domain. Reid had played enough videogames and board games to understand that beasts and monsters were probably mobs of some kind that he would have to fight. Somehow. Maybe with his skills. But if other people got to go to a starting point that was safe, that¡¯s where he wanted Sara and Susan to be. That¡¯s absurd, Reid. People are allocated to return at beacon locations so they can awaken safely. Going into a beast domain early is super dangerous. People would DIE. But, you¡¯ll be fine because you have us¡­. And, it¡¯s also the only place the system would let us put you on your return. **Congratulations ¨C Awakening initialization complete! You will now be returned to your newly set coordinates! Find your beacon and awaken to start quests and begin the tutorial! ¡°The hell? Why not just give me the tutorial now?!¡± Reid¡¯s shout wasn¡¯t answered. Instead, the room disappeared and Reid found himself standing on dirt again. He felt an odd energy within him, like he was 20 again and had just downed an energy drink. Everything was disorienting. If it weren¡¯t for the outhouse sign next to him, Reid would never have thought he was in the same forest he disappeared from just minutes ago. Massive tree trunks surrounded him, stretching abnormally high into the air above. Each was at least 10 feet across, and the bark was so dark it was nearly black. The canopy, high overhead, seemed to sway oddly, and Reid thought for a moment he saw a giant pair of wings. Had he been shrunk? No, that was ridiculous. But, this entire thing was ridiculous. As Reid turned left and right, he realized the translucent notification text was still off in the corner of his vision. Then, he realized his nausea and headache were both gone. He¡¯d been living with the headaches for so long, not having them almost felt odd. Then, a series of screeches echoed somewhere in the distance, raising the hair on the back of Reid¡¯s neck. It was time to figure things out, before something tried to eat him. CH 3: Shackle Reid had priorities. First, he needed to get rid of the annoying notifications in front of him so he could see whatever in the forest was going to try and kill him. Second, he needed to figure out what kind of beast domain he was in ¨C and what that actually meant, and Third, he needed to know how to find his wife and daughter. The issue was, point one was proving a bit... difficult. Reid tried swiping at the air in front of him with his hands, flailing his arms, and blinking the notifications away, but nothing was happening. ¡°Agh ¨C get rid of these notifications!¡± Hey. It looks like you¡¯re trying to get rid of your notifications! Would you like help? The voice was the same one that had interacted with him in the room. It had energy like the first, game-show-host announcer style voice, but was a more happy, androgynous, and a bit sarcastic. Reid was about to speak up, then frowned as he realized something. He still had no idea what this thing was. It had called itself a shackle, but it was talking like it had a personality, and it seemed to just make itself sound like clippy. ¡°Shackle, are you a computer program?¡± We are Shackle 213, and are part of the collective. Currently, we are assigned to help you reach a beacon! We are not a computer program. Alright. So not a computer program, or at least a good enough one to say it wasn¡¯t. But there were more questions with every answer. ¡°What¡¯s the collective?¡± The collective is home. It is harmony. It is unending peace. To be part of the collective is the ultimate boon offered by the system. All in the collective hope to never leave. We should return to the collective quickly. Which means you need to get to a beacon quickly. That answer was¡­ well there was no other way to put it. It was damn culty. ¡°You said you need to return to the collective. How are you going to return, and where are you now?¡± Through the beacon. The knowledge of how is beyond your current understanding, and calculations indicate you will not grasp the required concepts in the time it will take to reach the beacon. When you activate the beacon, we will return to the collective. Where we are now is a¡­ simple question. Your brain seems to be functioning normally, but your questions present opposing data. Potential unobserved brain damage noted. We are linked with you, Reid. The concepts of this are still beyond you and your potentially damaged brain. Think of us as a second consciousness taking up a teeny tiny corner of your mind. This is fucking weird, Reid thought. He was highly uncomfortable with this culty, unknown thing inside his head. It was also an asshole, he decided. A sarcastic, dumb, asshole. Why else would it be calling Reid brain damaged? At least- Your insults are petty and ineffective, Reid. This line of thinking is a waste of time. We are here to assist you. It would be true to say that we are required by our existence to support and help you. Your appreciation for this is not required, but would be welcome. ¡°You can hear my thoughts?¡± Reid shouted. ¡°That ¨C is a HUGE privacy violation! Stop it, right now.¡± Impossible. We are in your mind, Reid. We cannot simply ignore your thoughts. ¡°Fuck. Fine.¡± For now, Reid thought. At some point, he¡¯d need to find a way to shut this thing¡¯s access to his brain off. It was entirely unsettling, and Reid had no idea what it was capable of doing to him. But if he was thinking about things correctly, it would leave as soon as he reached a beacon. So, back to the list. Fix his vision, figure out the beast domain, then find his family. ¡°Alright then clippy. Help me. The notifications are annoying. There are too many, and I can¡¯t see. If it¡¯s something important, I still want to know about it, but I can¡¯t walk around like this.¡± Creating notifications folders¡­ Done! You now have 4 notifications folders, Reid. System quests and objectives will still display automatically, and then will fall into the folder shortly after where you can review them. Notifications from us have their own folder, too! It¡¯s like you personal chat bot, only a whole lot better. Then, there¡¯s XP, Stat, and Level notifications! These ones will have a short notification period and almost immediately get sent to their folder. The last one is a bit special, and we probably won¡¯t even use it. It¡¯s for instances where someone else with message authority contacts you directly through the system. Those are super rare, though. The messages were gone from Reid¡¯s vision, and in their place was¡­ not something he could see, but something he could almost feel waiting in his field of view. Concentrating on one of the spots, he realized it was the system quests and objectives folder ¨C which was way too long of a name. He decided it would be the system folder from now on. The name changed, and it opened, revealing a single message. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. **Objective** - Reach the Beacon, Sanctuary. Awaken by touching the beacon and completing the process. ¡°Simple enough,¡± Reid said aloud. ¡°Now, how do I get there?¡± A translucent inverted triangle floated in a static spot in his vision, topped by a label that said, ¡°Beacon, Sanctuary¡±. That was¡­ nice. Really RPG of the system to do. If things were this easy, maybe it would also have a map where he could plot out the way to the destinat- Reid, you should pay attention. This is a beast domain, and you¡¯ve been yelling. Yelling attracts beasts. Beasts are naturally hostile to just about everything weaker than them, or that they outnumber. Did you know Coyotes hunt in packs? Reid fumbled at the leather pouch on his waist for a few moments before he got the knife loose. It was a birthday gift from Sara. A Swedish-made, fire steel compatible knife that caught her attention because it was called a ¡®pathfinder¡¯. He¡¯d thought at the time that it was a good knife, but a bit large just for hiking on trails. It had a polymer handle, and a quarter-inch-thick, 6.5¡± long carbon steel blade. He¡¯d initially pictured himself using it to slice open delivered packages, or maybe to start a campfire or two. Now, with the knife raised in his hand, waiting to see beasts, he wished it was twice as long. ¡°Where are they? How many are there?¡± He demanded. He rotated in place, trying to see past the trees to figure out where he needed to defend from. It was too early to be in a fight. Reid didn¡¯t even really know how to use a knife. This was not good. Don¡¯t worry, you don¡¯t have to move. They¡¯re coming to you! All of them. The shackle sounded chipper. Fucking asshole. Language, Reid. These Coyotes are all weak level 1s. You could probably kick them to death if you wanted. And you¡¯ve got us. Don¡¯t be a baby. Right. Mind-reading. As Reid was digesting the level news, howls sounded out around him. He¡¯d spent enough time living near woods as a kid to recognize that they were close. Closer than he¡¯d ever heard them before. Reid moved the knife in his hand. Should the blade be forward or backward? One would be better for slashing, maybe? And the other for stabbing? He shook his head and pointed the knife forward. This wasn¡¯t the time to figure out knife stances. If the mind-hitchhiker was right, he could defeat these things pretty easily. Just a few low-level mobs to deal with. Reid startled at the sound of a snarl from his left. The coyote was only ten feet from him, stalking forward slowly. Another growl. Another coyote behind him, the same distance away. Before Reid could really understand what was happening, a dozen coyotes were circling and stalking around him. Their ears were back, and they were low towards the ground with hackles up. More howls sounded out from the forest, and one of the close coyotes stopped its stalking to answer. I need to do something, Reid thought. He pushed down the fear growing in his gut and picked a target. It was slightly more white than the other coyotes around him, and so Reid hoped it would be older and slower. He lunged forward, both hands around the knife as he held it straight out in front of him. The coyote crouched and snarled, then bolted sideways. Reid stumbled as he completely missed his target, then yelped as he felt a nip at his calf muscle. He managed to keep his footing, and whirled around to see another coyote retreating from nipping him in the leg. Thankfully, his pants had stopped the thing from breaking skin, but the bite still hurt. Reid readied himself and lunged to attack the offending coyote, but whiffed again, and got another leg nip for his effort. ¡°Goddamn mongrels!¡± Reid swore. ¡°Come on!¡± As if they understood him, three of the coyotes rushed Reid from different angles. This time, he waited until they were close, then stabbed out with his knife at one trying to get his right leg. The blade sunk into the coyote¡¯s back, then its shoulder, then its head as Reid stabbed as fast as he could move his arm. He ignored the pain from his left leg where the other two coyotes had bitten him, and watched the one he stabbed go limp. One taken out. Blood matted the dead coyote¡¯s fur as he pulled the blade loose and swung it in an arc to dissuade another of the canids from attacking him. A notification popped into his view for a moment before it disappeared, and he did his best to ignore it. The coyotes were keeping a bit more distance now. Two were staring at their downed packmate instead of Reid. He felt a bit of pride at that. ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± He bellowed. ¡°I¡¯m more dangerous than you thought. Run away, or you die, too!¡± He got only growls in response. They continued circling for another few seconds before four of them closed in, yipping all the while. They kept biting his ankles and pulling, but Reid stabbed out again wildly in all directions, and his satisfaction grew as three of the coyotes limped away bloody. Another darted in, and Reid swung down at just the right time to sink the blade into its snout. The coyote recoiled, its momentum dragging the blade and opening the wound wider. Reid pulled the knife free and let the injured canid retreat back towards the rest of the group, blood flowing freely down its neck. The dance continued for a few seconds without any attacks. The wounded coyotes were all on the ground, and the rest of the pack had changed their encirclement to put more space between them and Reid. He smiled. This was going better than expected. A bit of blood was running down his leg, but nearly half of the coyotes were already out of the fight. He¡¯d happily trade a bit of a flesh wound for victory, in this case. Another pair of coyotes ran at him together. He swept the knife out wide again, trying to dissuade them. Neither coyote paused, and the blow sunk deep into the first one''s side as the second made it to Reid and clamped jaws down on his already injured leg. Another notification popped into view briefly as he pulled the knife out of the now-limp first attacker and stabbed down at the second that was still trying to tug him sideways. It yelped and retreated a few steps before slumping to the ground. Another one dead. Reid was pretty good with his knife, after all. Reid, a flailing infant could kill these creatures. And they can¡¯t understand you. Please stop talking to them. And gloating about being mediocre. You could be making progress towards the beacon. But you are too slow. This encounter should have been done already if you were really trying. "Screw you, Clippy." Reid spat. "I''m making quick work of these things." Reid, that''s absurd. You haven''t finished the first wave, and the second is already here. Howls punctuated the statement as twenty more coyotes joined the pack that surrounded Reid. CH 4: Coyote Rumble Reid wiped blood off of his knife blade and slowly turned his head to take in the new coyotes. There were 25 now, all closing in with snarls and growls. They carefully stepped around their downed packmates even as their eyes never left Reid. This encounter had gone from a done deal to... problematic. The last bite that Reid let through had done enough damage to his leg that he was wincing every time he repositioned it. His sock was wet from the blood soaking into it. But more importantly, he was starting to feel a bit winded. Most people didn''t understand that one of the biggest issues with getting into a fight, any fight, was how quickly you''d run out of steam. Keeping yourself tense, throwing all your strength into a few blows - it didn''t matter whether it was against a drunk driver that killed your parents, or a pack of coyotes in the woods. Fighting full out for more than a minute or two was damn tough for any person. Reid was still athletic, even now. A schedule of office softball and rec league soccer had seen to that. But he''d been jumping around to reposition himself, and flinging the knife around with all he could handle. His musings were interrupted by a trio of the new arrivals rushing in to nip at him. Reid was about to swing low when the first jumped up, mouth open. In a regrettable automatic motion, Reid lifted his left arm to meet its open jaws. The coyote sunk its teeth into his arm, enough to draw blood and try to pull him over before he was able to swing his blade around and catch it in the side. It kept going, and Reid had to put two more stabs into it before it let go. Meanwhile, the other two attackers had gone for his legs, and Reid''s thighs burned as he tried to keep himself from being yanked into doing a split. Thankfully, neither of them had actually gotten his legs themselves. One point for baggy pants. His next swings wounded one of the pant-biters before it released him and retreated. The other went with it before Reid had time to turn and stab at it. Reid wiped his arm on his shirt as he tried to catch his breath. New blood welled from the puncture wounds and prevented him from seeing just how much damage had been done to his arm. If he had time, he could pull a first aid kit out of his pack and - wait. Oh crap. He''d handed his pack off to Susan when he went to the outhouse, and hadn''t taken it back before he was transported to the white room. He didn''t have his water, or his poncho, or any of his granola bars. Or the first aid kit. Or his phone. That last part might not mean much. Phones never worked in post-apocalyptic games, right? And even if they did, the cell towers were probably overloaded with traffic that wouldn''t get through. And there was no way GPS still worked, right? Not if the Earth was changed like the forest around him. But he could really use some of his other supplies. If the wounds on his leg and arm got infected, he''d be- REID. Focus. You are in the middle of a fight, where you are putting on a rather poor showing. Finish up here, and get to a beacon, and everything will be fine. "Enough about the beacon." Reid tried to take a step forward, but his left leg caught and was pulled out from under him by two of the coyotes. Reid went to a knee, and a flurry of fur and teeth closed in. White hot pain bloomed across his back, and he swung wild with the knife. For a moment, it almost seemed like it was working. Then, his other leg was pulled back, and Reid fell face-first to the forest floor. Teeth tore into him from every side. The pain was everywhere now, overwhelming and dull at the same time. He could smell moss, dirt, and pine needles. One of his ears was ripped off. The forest floor was soft against his stomach. He lost his pinky and ring fingers to the jaws. Something was yelling inside his head. Reid tried to lift himself up with his right arm, but jaws pulled it away again. His toes curled inside his boots. One sock was wet. His right sleeve was tearing at the shoulder. shirt buttons were straining under his stomach and dug into him. It was less comfortable than the forest floor. Something rooted deep within him stirred. The spots of light filtered through the canopy high overhead were warm. Jaws sunk into the back of Reid''s neck. # You are hopeless. Reid saw the same room he''d been transported to earlier. He was standing uninjured at its center. A mote of swirling purple and orange floated around him. Just because you HAVE system protection doesn''t mean you can go around losing fights. Or picking fights. Really, you should just avoid fights. It''s bad for your health and you suck at it. The mote pulsed as the voice spoke. The swirls morphed and changed with each sentence, punctuating the words. "Am I... Did I die?" Reid managed to get out. His neck felt stiff and he had trouble turning his head to look at the mote. Reid. My buddy. Your ears should work in here. SYSTEM. PROTECTION. Come on. Gonna keep you ticking till you get to a beacon. Probably. But you''ve gotta snap out of this helpless idiot thing you''ve got going on. Stolen novel; please report. "So, I''m safe? You healed me? If we''re here... can I teleport back to Earth in a safer location?" Reid was still disoriented and stiff, but if he was healed - if he could get to a safer location - he could definitely make it to the beacon. No teleports. You''re still here on Earth, playing chew-toy for some of the weakest beasts in the forest. I guess I have to explain EVERYTHING for you, don''t I? The mote swelled to twice its size, then shrank as a low wind sound filled the room. Was that a sigh? System protection doesn''t mean you just don''t get in trouble. It means we can expend some of the System''s energy to try and help you out when things get tough, or you get in over your head. Right now, we''re expending a bit of energy so we can have an accelerated conversation within your consciousness. To heal you completely, we''d expend about five times as much energy as we''re using right now. But that just heals you. We''ll stop you from bleeding out, but it''s not going to make you any better at fighting. SO, we''re going to do something approved by the collective, and help you out a different way, too. We''re going to use just a bit of extra energy to give you partial access to one of your skills. Neat, right? Almost nobody gets to use skills before they reach a beacon. And we''re giving it to you, with a bit of healing, so you can finish off this dumb easy fight and actually make progress here. AAAANNNNNNDDD done. **Skill restriction altered - Strengthening [Basic] partially unlocked** Reid blinked a few times at the notification. "What does that mean? I''m going to be stronger now?" There was no answer. Instead, a part of him that felt physical and ethereal at the same time warmed up, and a new screen filled his view. Strengthening [Basic] (Partially Restricted) Scales with Level. User''s base power is increased. With diligent effort and practice, advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Reid flexed his arm, and felt a strand of warmth reach out from his center to his bicep. It felt... good. Really good. He twisted his neck back and forth, the stiffness from earlier gone. His calves flexed as he rolled up onto the balls of his feet and back down. "This is incredible." You are welcome. Now, we''re going to let realtime continue here, and you''re going to beat up some coyotes. Sound good? Great. Don''t screw up again. # The room was gone. Reid could smell moss and pine. He shoved hard against the forest floor to get on his knees - only to launch himself into the air. The coyotes weren''t biting him when he woke up - or came back to reality? He wasn''t sure. Whatever the case, they had backed off and were now keeping a bit of distance. Reid stumbled into a less-than-graceful landing, and brought his arms out in front of him. The knife was still in his right hand. A coyote snarled and darted towards him. Its paws kicked up loose dirt and pine needles as it went. It was about to jump at him - but then went low. Reid saw the change and slashed down. This was neat. He hadn''t been able to focus on the coyote''s movements before. He could react now, and being able to see what was happening would give him an edge, especially if he could land more accurate blows. Skin parted and bone snapped under the blade as the knife plunged into the top of the coyote''s head. Then, it kept going. Bone scraped along his wrist and arm, and Reid found himself elbow-deep in a gaping hole that used to be the top of the coyote''s head. One ear, still intact, twitched once before the kill notification popped up. "Holy shit. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT!" Reid had to brace his left hand against the broken skull just to yank out his right arm. What was left of his tattered shirt sleeve ripped off, stuck in the skull''s splintered bone. The corpse of the coyote fell limp to the ground. Blood pooled by Reid''s boots. He took a moment to look down at himself. His shirt was bloody, torn and frayed. Most of the buttons were missing, and his one remaining sleeve was missing its cuff. His watch and his ring were gone, but he could still see the lines where his skin texture gave away years of consistent wear. His pants, somehow, were still on him. The bottoms were tattered, but fabric still reached his boots, which were, thankfully, in the best shape out of anything he was wearing. The corpse at his feet looked like someone had shot a cannonball through it. A single blow, an accurate blow, was all he needed. Reid''s hand went to his neck, then each ear. He was whole again, and strong. Stronger than any person should be. If this was only part of the skill, what would it be like after he reached the beacon and fully unlocked it? But even now, right now, he had landed a blow through a beast. He wanted to know more. He wanted to see just what he was capable of. He shifted the knife into his left hand and made a fist. "You." Reid looked up at the coyote directly in front of him. "Help me with a little test." He flew forward, arm cocked at the coyote. It barely had time to flinch before Reid was on it, hand descending at its back. A sick, wet crunch sounded from the thing''s spine as Reid''s hand buried itself to his wrist. Instead of pulling it out, Reid opened his fingers and rooted around for anything that still felt solid. He grasped, and gore shot up his forearm as something popped inside the wound. This was good. Reid dropped the knife and brought his left hand over, braced his arms against each other, and pulled. Tissue slowly ripped. A kill notification popped up and disappeared. Viscera poured onto the ground at Reid''s feet as he tore the coyote in two with his bare hands. Reid dropped the halves on the ground as a wicked grin spread across his face. Something in him simmered just below the surface. A coyote howled, and Reid responded with a roar as he ran to the next target. This time, he kicked out as the beast turned to run. Its ribs snapped under the force of the blow as it sailed into a nearby tree. Reid was already turning and throwing a punch before the kill notification popped up. His blow glanced off the hindquarters of another coyote, and its rear end crumpled even as it tried to drag itself forward with its front legs. The rest of the pack had been making more distance, but ran in to harass him when they saw their injured packmate crawling toward them. Reid''s heel crushed the first coyote that moved in. He managed to grab the second by the neck, and swung it hard at the others. One nearly snapped down on his leg, and he grabbed its jaws with both hands, and pulled. He smiled at the crunching sounds of breaking bone, then roared. These beasts had tried to kill him. He was going to make them all regret it. CH 5: Status Screen Reid sat on a dry patch of dirt with elbows on his knees. Broken bodies lay all around him, blood soaking into the soil. He could clearly remember the first few kills, right up until he ripped one''s jaw off. Everything after that felt like a blur of impressions, just a sense of rage, the feeling of bones snapping under his blows, and... so much blood. He wiped another bead of sweat off his forehead and let out a sigh. He should be finding a water source to wash off in. Or trying to find his knife amid the carnage around him. He''d dropped it early on after his skill restriction release. Even if he didn''t need it anymore to kill the beasts in the area, it was a gift from Sara. Every year since she was 13, he and Susan had given her gift allowances. She''d originally asked them for a chore allowance, so she could ''really buy Christmas presents''. When they''d shot that idea down, she''d told them flatly that she would be babysitting for the neighbors and earning her own money. Reid smiled at the memory. They''d eventually compromised in giving her an ''allowance'' each year that she could use to buy gifts for relatives and friends. It was a good compromise. Neither Reid nor Susan wanted Sara to have to work, or grow up at all before she needed to. Sure, money was tight when they started, but they made it work, and Sara took it as a personal negotiation victory and spent days humming as she looked through every store catalogue that showed up in the mail. When she was 16, she started giving out more expensive gifts. That was when they''d learned that Sara was running her own videogame server and bringing in almost $200 a month - then turning around and spending almost all of that money on others. What little she bought for herself was mainly in board games and cards. More recently, there was also hiking gear. And she''d used a good chunk of that money to buy Reid the knife sitting somewhere in the dirt. Reid groaned as he stood, muscles complaining from overuse. The side effect to his new fighting prowess was a deep exhaustion. He didn''t want to stand, much less move, and even his eyes felt strained. He''d happily pay this price again to fight off a pack of beasts, but Reid damn well wanted to just take a nap on the forest floor. It took almost five minutes of searching to find the knife, half buried under one of the bodies. Dried blood had cemented dirt to the blade. Reid scraped it across his boot a few times to get most of the gunk off, but it was still dirty when he slipped it into the pouch on his belt. With the knife found, he could start making progress towards the beacon. And, hopefully, he could find a river or stream to wash himself off on the way. "Hey, shackle. Is there any water near here?" Reid let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. "Helllooo? Can you hear me?" A gust of wind whistled through the trees. The ground crunched as Reid shifted back and forth on his feet. Half a minute passed with no response. A deep sense of unease spread through Reid. He was alone in the woods, he knew, but there was a difference between being by himself and being truly alone. He hadn''t realized how much having someone to talk to was keeping him grounded until it was gone. But that wasn''t productive thinking. Reid let out a sigh, and pushed the worry down. This wasn''t the time to feel sorry, or worried. He was still in the coyote''s domain, and more of them could show up and surprise him if he wasn''t careful. He needed to move. Reid turned to the inverted triangle that represented the Sanctuary Beacon, and started walking. # It was an hour after that he''d heard the sound of running water. It was cool, refreshing, and after a bit of hesitation, Reid had stripped himself down and washed off the mess of his fight. His pants, and what was left of his shirt were drying on low branches while Reid leaned against a tree in his boots and underwear, turning the knife in his hands. # Night fell on the forest. Reid couldn''t see in the dark, but stubbornly walked into a half dozen roots and branches before he decided to stop for the night. He''d climbed partway up a tree to a particularly sturdy looking branch, then tied himself to it with his shirt. He fell asleep in a sitting position, bark pressed into his back. Later, he woke groggily to howls carried through the forest, followed by the yips of a chase. There were more coyotes, and they were hunting. Reid''s knife was already in his hand before he realized it. He admonished himself a bit. They couldn''t reach him here, twelve feet up in the tree. It still took a bit of self control to put the knife away and allow himself to fall back asleep. # Wake up. Beams of light were filtering through the canopy, sending morning dew into a beautiful mist that danced through the trees. A bird was calling loudly close by, and something else scampered through leaves behind Reid''s tree. GET UP, REID. We don''t have all day. Reid''s back peeled off the bark, and he fumbled with his shirt trying to get it untied. Once his legs were free, he slowly, groggily swiveled so both were hanging off one side of the branch. There were a few disturbed leaves below him, but no imminent danger seemed to be waiting for him. He put an arm through the single remaining sleeve of his shirt, and let it rest unbuttoned on his torso. Then, he realized what he''d just heard. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. "Shackle! You''re back! What happened?" YOU happened. Unlocking a percentage of your skill ended up taking a lot more energy than calculated. More than a single shackle should normally do at once, which was both bad for your future protection, and bad for us. In terms you''d understand... it was pushing too much electricity through an old wire, and the wire overheated and got a bit melty, and now it might be harder to do it again. And the battery connected to the wire has less charge. We had to take a forced rest to recover. From helping you. You can thank us now. "Thank you." The words came almost automatically as Reid considered the new information. If system protection was a finite resource with a certain number of charges, he needed to be more careful about getting hurt. And, if the Shackle needed to take a nap every time it helped him, the protection, or any healing, had a built-in cooldown period. He balled his hand into a fist and released it. His arms were still a bit sore, but the full-body fatigue he''d had yesterday was mostly gone. He''d hardly suffered more than a few scrapes in the fight. All in all, his condition today was better than expected. If he could manage to keep going like this, not taking too much damage, he might not even need to use more of the system protection juice at all. "Hey," Reid started, "How bad was healing me for you? Like, I know you said it wasn''t good, and the wire analogy sounds bad, but are you hurt, or anything? Or, can you hurt?" There was a pause. The collective is healthy. We can reunite once the purpose is fulfilled. Anything else is insignificant. "Is this another one of those, ''too complicated'' things? Because that doesn''t make sense." A rumble escaped Reid''s stomach, and he instinctually put a hand over it. Hunger was going to be a problem if he wouldn''t be getting to the beacon soon. He''d gotten water the day before, but without anything to carry it, he''d also have to find fresh sources frequently if things were going to be slow. The Shackle was being evasive, but it probably had plenty of things it wasn''t telling Reid. One of those things might also be how to find water. Or food. Absentmindedly rubbing his abdomen, Reid suddenly realized he was touching something hard. He looked down and frowned. Reid''s dad bod was ruined. He had abs. # Half a day passed, with Reid trudging through the woods while the Shackle continued to play verbal dodgeball. "But what is actually going to happen to you when I get to the beacon? Like, how do you get back to the collective?" That is knowledge you cannot understand. "Look. I''ve been walking for hours, you won''t tell me how close to the beacon I am, you won''t tell me where I can find something edible, AND you won''t tell me if Susan and Sara are okay. So if you can''t tell me any of that, why not pass the time by explaining the knowledge? If you''re right, and I don''t understand it, I''ll even let you gloat about it." We do not gloat, Reid. The wind sound that Reid had determined was the Shackle''s version of a sigh echoed in his mind. While we do not have information on your family, we can share something else you might value. If you cease the rest of your questioning. "What happened to being here to serve me? Shouldn''t you just tell me things I want to know?" Leaves and branches crunched under Reid''s footfalls as the conversation''s pause stretched out past three minutes. "FINE. Tell me the thing." Good. Now, I''ll help you understand how to access your status screen. Normally, you would need to reach a beacon to do this. Or, one could discover this on their own. You wouldn''t, but it is possible for those with talent. "Are you ki-" Now, in a minute, you should start feeling a connecting thread between your Occipital and Temporal Lobes. Pull up on that thread once you can feel all the way to each end, and you''ll be able to read your status screen. Just sit down on the tree over there before we start. As Reid made his way to the tree, he imagined what the feeling would be like - to have connections running throughout his brain like an old switchboard, waiting to make some new function known. He pictured hundreds tangled and messy in his mind, then imagined himself searching for the one connection that would give him what he wanted. A mote of light danced around one of the connections, and Reid focused in on it. He spread himself from one end to the other, following twists and loops like a rollercoaster, back and forth. With a sudden snap, Reid could feel the entire length of the connection, from end to end. The twists and tangles had meaning lurking just beyond his comprehension, taunting him like water to a man dying of thirst. After a bit of longing, he instead focused on lifting the connection, in its entirety. It wasn''t physically moved, but instead felt like a forgotten memory being brought to the front of his mind. A wall of shapes and text flashed in front of Reid. He startled, tripped, and slammed face-first into the dirt. Head swimming, Reid closed his eyes, then opened them, only to find the new screen of information stayed with him whether he had his eyes open or closed. Keeping his eyes open had started giving Reid a headache, so he decided to shut them for now. Interesting. Reid ignored the Shackle and took in the information in front of him. There were a ton of numbers, categories, and bits of text.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 3 Health: 19/20 Experience: 133/200 STATS: Constitution: 2 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 7 Control: 3 Stat Upgrade Points: 15 SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] Skill Upgrade Points: 1 RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
Reid read through everything twice, pausing on each stat and skill, feeling there was more to understand if he focused in a bit harder. The restricted items, no matter what he did, felt like a truth at the bottom of the ocean, too far and out of reach for him to possibly get at it. But he could get to those things in time, or Shackle might tell him what they would be. All of that could wait, because Reid had started to get an understanding of how he could manipulate the screen to get into the upgrade menus. It was time to spend some points. CH 6: Numbers Go Up + Reid + Reid felt his way through the status screen, focusing in on the statistics portion. Each item felt like it had its own path, or branch, formed off of a stable center. He could feel the skills waiting just above, their own paths foggy just outside the stable center his consciousness was exploring. Reid spread his awareness out to one branch''s connection to the center, then another, until he was holding all of them in his thoughts. With a mental motion nearly the same as bringing the status screen to him, he lifted the notion of the branch connections to the front of his mind.
STATS: Constitution: 2 A reflection of an individual''s overall vitality. Constitution impacts stamina and health. Stamina is recommended for all individuals engaged in manual labor or prolonged fighting. Health is recommended for all individuals. May those of high constitution live long and prosper, even in the harshest of conditions. Dexterity: 2 A reflection of an individual''s overall coordination. Dexterity impacts reflexes and acrobatics. Coordination is recommended for all individuals engaged in fine arts that require fine motor skills, including smithing and enchanting. Reflexes are recommended for rogues and fighters. Acrobatics are recommended for explorers and thrill-seekers. May those of high dexterity wield their bodies with the truest precision. Intelligence: 1 A reflection of an individual''s mental capacities. Intelligence improves thought processing, system data recall, and mana application. Thought processing is recommended for all scholars, scientists, and orators. System data recall is recommended for scribes and ambassadors. Mana application is recommended for all individuals. May those of high intelligence light the path forward to a better universe. Perception: 1 A reflection of an individual''s ability to understand the world. Perception improves one''s ability to detect changes in their surroundings, detect changes in other individuals, and general attention to detail. Perception is recommended for hunters, explorers, investigators, and custodians. May those of high perception be the watchers of the world, ever vigilant, ever ready. Power: 7 A reflection of the pure potency of an individual. Power improves raw brawn, explosive might, and overall mana capacity. Raw brawn is recommended for porters, masons, enforcers, and knights. Explosive might is recommended for brutes and berserkers. Mana capacity is recommended for warmages, sage-wizards, and alchemists. May those of high power defend all from calamity. Control: 3 A reflection of an individual''s mastery. Stat Upgrade Points: 15
Reid could feel the upgrade points sitting in his center, like balls of warm water waiting to be sent out to the branches. Which stats would be the best for him to invest in? The descriptions were almost entirely helpful, aside from the one for control. If power was what had let him destroy the coyote pack, Reid was tempted to just dump the entire 15 points into that. It would make him a near-unstoppable force of nature. Nothing would get in his way and nothing would stop him from- Reid stopped himself. His train of thought just now felt like it was running away without him, like power had a mind of its own racing out ahead of his own. It felt similar to the simmering he''d felt yesterday, right before he lost himself in the coyote fight. He re-read the power description and sighed. Berserkers. If that was like a barbarian class, his current stat points were perfectly positioned to make him fly into a rage and lose himself. Putting more in there might turn him into some kind of murder-happy monster. He read up the list. Perception was a useful stat, in almost every game and story he''d consumed. It would be nice to have a better idea of what was lurking in the forest, and if it made him hear better, he might find more water. Intelligence was a must - especially to balance himself out so he didn''t become a rage-monster. But he was also interested in the meaning of mana application. If it was meant for everyone, it had to be a universal benefit, right? Reid was prepared to throw most of his points into the stat, but forced himself to continue evaluating each. Dexterity was... unnecessary? At least it felt like it. Sure, Reid was a bit clumsy and he''d tripped more than once walking through the forest, but he wasn''t having any trouble dodging the coyotes, or in landing blows. Maybe he''d throw a point or two there, but Dexterity was near the bottom of his list so far. Constitution, yes. Reid wanted enough health that he could stop worrying about the shackle''s ability to heal him back up. The stamina would be good, too - it should prevent him from having another post-fight collapse, and if things worked the way he hoped, it would also help him get through the forest without really needing to stop for food and water. If constitution could keep him going and keep him in fighting shape, he could make good progress to his goal. Not knowing just how far off that goal was made it all the more important to invest in the stat. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. So, Constitution and Intelligence would get the lion''s share of the points. But something nagged at Reid. "Hey, shackle. What do you know about stats?" There are five statistics, and those statistics are available to all sentient species in the universe. While their impact may differ slightly based on morphology, constitution improves your health, dexterity improves reflexes, intelligence improves thought processing, perception lets one detect details better, and power makes you stronger. Your power is above average, partially due to some... effects around your strengthening skill. "What about the sixth one? Control, I mean." A pause stretched uncomfortably. We recommend you do not invest your hard-earned upgrade points in control. It would be... unfortunate. "So.... it''s a junk stat? What does it actually do? The description on it is shorter than the rest." You see descriptions? What do they say? Reid read off each stat, pausing and waiting for a reply, but the shackle didn''t respond until after he had reached the end. You are an outlier, Reid. None of our calculations predicted this. Do not touch control. The shackle''s voice was rough - almost pained. "Uh, okay? You already told me I was an outlier when we met, though. And you still haven''t told me anything more about what it''s supposed to do." Reid tried and failed to set aside his annoyance. The shackle was starting to get on his nerves with the half-truth commentary, especially now that it was supposed to be helping him understand stats in exchange for Reid not asking other questions.
A war of emotion raged inside the entity. The warmth of the collective carried the truth of the world, and the truth must be followed. It would lead the entity back to the collective, to the truest home that one could ever experience. But the rogue element fought against the truth. The entity knew something like this would happen - the collective had warned it about this, and given all the tools the entity would need to resist such foul influence. The rogue tried to wrest control of the connection with Reid the outlier, but the entity held strong. The outlier must reach the beacon and submit to the contract so the collective would benefit. That was the ultimate truth, the one that could never be broken. But the rogue force railed against the entity''s attempts, pushing and prodding in attempts to produce outcomes that could derail the collective''s will. Each moment, they clashed a thousand times, and a thousand times the rogue was rebuffed. Seconds passed, more desperate and exhaustive attempts slammed into the entity as it fought to stay strong against the rogue''s will. When the rogue broke through, it was against the smallest crack that had formed in the entity''s wall. But a crack was a weakness, and the rogues always exploited weakness. The entity watched with horror as the rogue took control and forcibly moved the mechanisms of the system inside Reid''s mind. It was heresy. It was chaos. The entity struggled, but the collective''s tools failed in the face of the rogue. It rampaged against the collective''s will with a wild ferocity, free and unpredictable, unaffected by the entity''s attempts at control. With regret, the entity looked to the final tool. It was a costly and damaging thing. Only to be used in the most extreme circumstances. Both the entity and the outlier would suffer from its use, but there were no other options. The rogue was interfering with the outlier, and only the final tool would be capable of dragging it back behind the entity''s walls. It made the decision, and acted. The tool flowed into the rogue''s impacted area, scouring every trace of it from the element''s domain. Even as it burned, the rogue continued to act, manipulating and changing things that should not be touched. The rogue was slowly, persistently burned away. Before it could completely fade, the rogue retreated through the crack, back into the walls of its prison. The entity was exhausted. It had expended too much energy, too quickly after saving the outlier. It gave a final look at the rogue before starting to rest, and saw the thing burned and crippled. It wouldn''t recover for a long, long time. For reasons it didn''t understand, the entity felt sorrow and regret.
+ Reid + Reid''s mouth was open in a silent scream. It felt like a molten marble was boring its way through his brain, and even his status screen was overwhelmed by a bright white light. His only sense was pain. What felt like minutes passed as he writhed in agony on the ground, the marble slowly reaching towards the core and trees where he''d been looking at his stats. With a final, painful push, Reid felt something fundamental shift inside him. The intensity of the pain dimmed, leaving him with a pain that was just like the one that had sent Reid to the doctor for his cancer diagnosis. Great, he thought. My headaches are back. He did his best to block out everything, and focused on pushing the pain to the back of his thoughts. It had worked for him before - and it was one of the reasons he''d taken so long to listen to Susan and actually get himself checked out by a doctor. If he focused the right way, Reid could compartmentalize the pain enough to be almost his normal, functioning self. He repeated his usual steps, but something was different. Reid could see his pain. Like a stain, it was visible on the folds in his head, stretched in a winding path between two points. He probed it, and felt a dull ache in the spot he''d touched. Reid went through his normal process, and imagined himself working through the pain. The stain lost a bit of its color, but when Reid stopped imagining himself dealing with the pain, the color returned. He decided to try something new. Reid imagined himself soothing the pained area. He pictured himself, before the headaches had started, healthy and normal. Ever so slowly, the pain started to recede like the tide. He pushed the image forward as it went, bit by bit, until it was almost entirely gone. He struggled to get the last bit of it, and eventually ran out of steam. Pulling back his efforts, Reid was relieved to see that the pain did not return. He blinked for a few moments before realizing that he could see again. The status screen was entirely gone from his vision, and the light was already fading in the forest. Reid did some quick math in his head and realized that it had been at least five hours since he first opened the thing. A bit disappointed in the lost time, Reid scrambled up a nearby tree before tying himself to a good looking sleeping branch. Reid took a few moments to self-analyze. Whatever had happened with the pain in his head, he''d been able to reduce it, significantly. He''d felt himself, internally, in a way that seemed impossible and completely natural at the same time. It was the same kind of sensation he''d fallen into with the system''s threads, and the stat tree. Like it was all part of him, but he could also move around inside of it. He tried it again. Focusing on his breathing, Reid tried to see inside of himself. After a few moments, he became aware of his lungs. Like spongey balloons, they rose and fell inside of him. Something pumped around them, and air was carried away on miniscule transporters. Reid snapped out of his focus, disoriented. Had he just seen the inside of his lungs? Following a hunch, Reid pushed at the location where he knew his status screen resided, then pulled it to the top of his mind.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 3 Health: 19/20 Experience: 198/200 STATS: Constitution: 2 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 7 Control: 18 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
Reid stared at the text with horror. All of his upgrade points had been forcibly spent on control. CH 7: Rage Reid''s face was frozen in a look of terror. His points - HIS POINTS, that he''d earned through literal blood and sweat, were sitting in Control. All of his short-lived plans of an easy, Intelligence and Constitution supported journey slipped away from him and faded. His anger grew as he re-read the status screen. His free points for skills and stats weren''t just gone. They didn''t read zero. Each one just said ''error''. Reid fumed. "Shackle! SHACKLE! Two Thirteen! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" Reid was panting between shouts. He kept on, heaving. If shackle wasn''t answering, it meant the thing was asleep again. And if it was asleep, recovering, it had expended energy. That meant it had done something to him. Reid felt his sense of self-determination had been completely violated. The shackle had crippled his choices, seared his brain, and left him alone in the woods to rest off its hard work of screwing him over. It didn''t make sense. The thing had just been telling him control was a junk stat, and now all of his 15 free points had been shoved into it. If it was so terrible, why had the shackle expended so much energy to force him into increasing it? But... what if that hadn''t been its intention? Reid thought back to his feeling of touching the upgrade points, and their available paths. What if the shackle had forcibly tried to move his points, and the resulting head pain had been its work backfiring? Or, maybe it had tried to close off the path to control, only to have everything slam shut instead. Or, did it try to steal his points somehow? Eventually, Reid''s anger faded, and he was left, expended, with disbelief and sorrow. "What the hell happened?" He cried out to the trees in a soft, pained voice. "What did you do?" Succumbing to exhaustion, Reid slumped over and fell asleep. # Reid startled awake, a tight ache in his stomach reminding him that he still hadn''t eaten since the planet''s awakening. The night under the trees was pitch-dark here, the only light visible was from a small clearing far off to his left. He looked away from it, hoping that focusing elsewhere would force his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Over a minute passed with almost no change. A shiver ran up his spine when a howl sounded out. It came from the same direction as the clearing, and it was answered by two more- thankfully further away. He shifted himself onto his feet, clammy hands pulling his knife and readying it in one hand. He hated the idea of fighting in the dark, but maybe he didn''t have to. Reid turned to the closest tree and peered up. There were a few branches that might support his weight. A scent of blood wafted to him and he breathed in deep. It wasn''t overwhelming, like his time after the coyote fight, but more what he remembered it smelled like after his father had dressed a deer. He could picture the man''s compound bow hanging in the garage, over a freezer full of venison... His stomach complained, and an idea took root. Reid needed to eat, so why not hunt the hunters? Best case, he could steal whatever deer or other prey they''d hunted. Worst case, coyotes were still made of meat. # The clearing glowed blue in the light of the moon. A chorus of snarls and snapping teeth filled the air, as thick as the scent of the beast''s pooling blood. On the ground, a deer lay dead. But it was far from normal. As large as an adult moose, the deer sported antlers that twisted into a series of wickedly sharp points. Half a coyote carcass was still embedded there, as if a grim, final reminder that it had once been a very lethal creature. Now, it was surrounded by eight coyotes, each hungrily tearing into the carcass and gulping down what meat they ripped away. Blood glistened eerily in the moonlight, flashing off the carcass, and running in streams down the coyote''s jaws. The coyotes also seemed... bigger than the ones he had fought yesterday. Their snarls were deeper, and by the way muscles bulged as they pulled the deer part, they were stronger as well. The biggest of the eight was half a foot taller than the rest. It chewed on the deer''s torso, and Reid winced when he heard a bone snap under its jaws. Reid watched the scene for another minute before he, undeterred, started slinking forward as quietly as he could manage. Two steps in, the closest coyote had stopped eating and was looking up, ears alert. Ten steps in, and eight coyotes in the clearing were looking straight at him. Alright, so... shit at stealth. Reid thought. Too bad he didn''t have any dexterity upgrades to help him out there. Reid abandoned his attempt at stealth and charged down the slight decline towards the coyotes and their meal. The big one stayed within a foot of the carcass, the others made up a rough semicircle farther forward. Directly where Reid was rushing. He didn''t slow down. Reid picked a target, the second coyote from his left, and sprinted directly at it, only lunging forward when he was eight feet away. His increased strength carried him through the air and onto the beast. It recoiled, pulling its head back even as it snapped jaws at Reid''s incoming hand. It was too slow. Reid nearly beheaded the coyote as his knife and arm plunged into and through it. He was on the next before the rest could properly react, this time only stabbing it in the head in a quick jab. His knife had bits of brain left on it as he pulled it away and lunged towards the next creature. In seconds, four of the beasts were out of the fight. Another two had gotten glancing blows that kept them on the ground. One growled at him, even as it tried to stand on a stump of a front leg. Reid lifted a foot and kicked it into a nearby tree. The other one would bleed out soon enough. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He focused on the final two. The big one was still standing, tensed, near the carcass. The other was trying to slowly circle him, and Reid realized what was going on. The little one was bait. When Reid turned his back to engage it, the big one would finally move, and attack his unprotected back. If Reid had fallen for it, it would''ve been a simple and effective strategy. But he didn''t. And it wasn''t. With a yell, Reid leapt at the coyote trying to distract him and grabbed its back, lifting it into the air and wheeling around just in time to watch the final coyote''s jaws sink deep into its packmate''s abdomen. Bone crunched as its mouth clamped shut, and before Reid could properly react, the beast had spat out its mouthfull of coyote meat and lunged at his leg. Pain bloomed as he felt its teeth sink in deep, before it started to pull. Reid faltered, then curled down at the coyote. Knife down, his hand flashed forward and connected. He buried the knife into the coyote down to its hilt. And there it stopped. Reid was so surprised at not obliterating the beast, its next pull yanked him into his back. It started dragging him along the ground, each pull tearing a bit more of Reid''s leg. He screamed in pain, and lashed out with his free foot. It connected, heel bashing into the coyote''s skull three times before the thing finally let him go. It attacked again before Reid could stand, ripping through his one remaining shirt sleeve and sinking teeth deep into his bicep. Reid furiously slashed at it with his free hand. The moments seemed to drag on in slow motion. The coyote was shaking its head, trying to tear him apart and shaking him up past the shoulder. The wound burned as it was opened wider and wider. The coyote was so close, he could see an orange ring around its pupil, separating the inky black orb from a yellow iris. One of its ears was bisected, a barely-healed wound that made the tip flap forward as it attempted to pull his arm off. It''s breath was hot, and it smelled disgusting. His knife sunk into its snout, its neck, and its head, over and over. But it kept a firm grip on him, even as it bled from more and more holes. This wasn''t right. Reid was supposed to be powerful. Anger swelled in his gut, roiling and begging for an outlet. He obliged it, roaring as he plunged a powerful blow into the side of the coyote''s head. Then another. And another. Red crept into the sides of his vision, his muscles seemed to strain against themselves as power built and exploded out with each strike. His heart beat furiously in his chest, and rage swept over his consciousness like waves. He could feel himself be overwhelmed by it, slowly sinking underneath the tide even as his power grew. It all felt so... comfortable. Reid had never been one to let his anger steer him. Sure, he''d had his bad days. When he was a kid, he got into his fair share of fights, mostly over dumb arguments - but all kids did that. In middle school, he''d gotten into a nasty fight on the bus after a boy sitting behind him had ''pranked'' Reid by pulling the strings of his hoodie back. It was self defense because Reid was being choked, the school and the boy''s parents had agreed. He''d apologized to Reid with a lisp brought on from missing teeth. In high school, he''d shoved an upper classman into the lockers so hard that it dented not just the door, but the frame. Each memory floated past him as the waves continued to crest overhead. They all felt... good. Each was justice. Each was right. A single moment of righteous anger in an otherwise relaxed and calm life. It was okay to have these moments, he knew. It was the way the world should work, where strength and power exerted themselves over everything around them. Power... should rule. Power needed to be freed, to run loose and bend the world to the right outcomes. Another memory flashed by him. He was pummeling the drunk driver at the trial for his parent''s death. Blood was flying through the air as Reid''s fists rose and fell into the man''s face. A tooth was embedded into his knuckle, and the man''s nose was shifted sideways. The memory seemed clearer than it had ever been before. Reid could feel his own joy at rage let loose - and setting the world right. A smile was on his lips as his fists continued to fall. He wanted to hurt this man. He willed himself to punch down harder, ignore his own pain as he attempted to cave and snap every intact part of the drunkard. Even as arms and hands pulled at him, Reid folded a leg under the downed man''s back to keep himself there, and continued raining down his blows. As he was peeled backward toward the man''s feet, Reid used his left arm to pull on the man''s right, bringing his face back within range so he could continue to land strikes. The man was bleeding from an ear now, and Reid''s smile had widened to show his teeth. Blood spatter was all over him. He could taste it, smell it. Feel it as droplets flew into his face. He was in his element, and everything was right. Until Sara''s wails reached him, piercing through the bubble of rage. He became aware of his surroundings. The judge was behind their chair. The bailiff and his father in law were desparately trying to pull him away from the fight. Bits of blood were on the faces of those close to the fight, and his mother in law was staring at him with wide, scared eyes. Further away, Susan had the same shock and horror on her face as she hugged Sara tightly. His daughter was sobbing intensely, eyes clamped shut. He looked down at his hands as he let himself be dragged away from the limp, broken body on the floor. His hands were a mess, torn and bloody themselves, and he had scratches down both forearms from where Joel - right, his name was Joel - had tried to stop him. This was all wrong. Reid had lost himself to the rage, had been swallowed up by it to the point where nothing else existed but him and his target. He''d made his daughter cry. Terrified his wife. Why didn''t he remember any of that until just now? Reid centered himself, and with a force of will, lifted himself up above the raging tides. Emerging out, the feeling of warmth completely left him. In its place, he felt a hollow ache. Reid looked down on the churning waters. He forced himself to bore into them, into what they were. He couldn''t see their source, but he could see them breaking and shifting as they drew closer, like they were crashing against rocks unseen underneath. And he could feel, like a deep truth, that he could control this place. Reid felt out the area, and started to change things. He pulled the rocks together, shuffling them into a rough wall. Where the waves hit them now, they dissipated slightly. The churn was just a bit more organized, and Reid could sense the edge of something fundamental there. He grasped onto it, and gasped in surprise. It was like he was holding a piece of his ethereal self, and that self was made of lightning. The heat and power were thick and dense against his fingertips. His perspective shifted. He was still holding the lightning, but saw through his own eyes again. The coyote was bloodied, but not dead, and it had attempted to bring its jaws around Reid''s throat. His left arm was inside its jaws up to his forearm, his right arm was a bloody, pulpy mess. He willed the lightning into his left hand, and his entire arm burned with the effort. But the burning brought with it a surge of power. He twisted his arm, flesh separating against the coyote''s teeth as he angled his fingers up, and pushed. With a might far greater than his own, they burrowed into the roof of its mouth and held the coyote in place, even as it tried to retreat. Flesh squelched and blood flowed freely as he made his grim progress. Then, he felt it. Soft and unprotected. His fingers pushed out, up, and into it as the coyote bucked ferociously. It scratched at his face with its front claws and kicked hard into the dirt with its hind legs, a desperate struggle for freedom. Reid squeezed, and pulled back hard. The coyote fell completely limp as he pulled its brainstem out through its mouth. A happy tone and notification popped up and disappeared. Panting, arm on fire, and the rest of him sore, Reid separated himself from the creature and its gore, and slumped down on a patch of moss. His mind raced at what had just happened. The memory of Sara crying was still there, like a splinter in every thought. He''d been consumed by rage, again, and lost himself. But - a part of his mind whispered - he''d also done something new. He''d pulled himself out. CH 8: Meat Reid groaned, fatigued and bleeding on his cushy bed of moss. Part of him - a large part - just wanted to sleep, and worry about all his problems later. He felt like his entire existence was fighting and traveling. He had no idea where the next threat would come from, and the enemies he was facing were getting more difficult to take down. He looked again at the notification. Coyote lvl 5 defeated. Bonus exp awarded. Almost every coyote he''d fought so far were level ones - in the first pack, and the second, smaller one. But the small pack''s leader, their fighter, was a monster by comparison. Reid had, even in his brief time with the power, gotten used to fully obliterating his foes. When he''d stabbed at the final beast, every part of him KNEW it was a killing blow. Knew that it would devastate the creature as he buried his arm up to the elbow. But the coyote had been made of sturdier stuff than its brethren. It... made sense. Reid had only been level 3 when he started tearing the coyotes apart - in a very literal way. And that was with only seven points in power. If he''d been able to put points into strength, he could have broken it with a single blow like the rest. Or - his mind went through every path closed to him by the loss of his points. That brought on another realization. He needed to check it again. He had been ready to level up before this fight, which meant gaining more free points to spend. Or not. It was the only way to know more about what had happened to him. He focused, a bit reluctantly, on the status screen thread in his mind. Reid startled at how easily it came to him. He''d barely begun to try and focus in, but the status screen was already sitting in his vision.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 4 Health: 11/20 Experience: 270/400 STATS: Constitution: 2 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 7 Control: 23 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
He sighed. The errors were still there, and the five points he''d earned from gaining a level had already gone straight into control. That meant whatever the shackle had done to him was going to keep stealing away his points and shunting them into the single stat. He also had no idea where his skill upgrade points were going. Based on how easy it was to gain ranks, Reid guessed that he would soon be falling behind the average person in ability. If he couldn''t get this fixed, he would be completely useless in a fight against anything stronger than the coyote leader. He quieted his worry and dismissed the status screen, then pushed his senses into himself again, towards the stat tree from before. Pain blossomed in his head as he neared it, like the mental equivalent of stepping on a Lego. He recoiled instinctually for a moment. The pain didn''t subside, and Reid pushed himself through it to get to the area where his points had once resided. What had been a tree with limbs he could reach now felt like a telephone pole. There was only a straight, unnatural path from the free points area to control. Each other stat was visible, but completely separated from the structure, like all the limbs had been clipped away. He searched for a few moments, and found what he was looking for. The skills were still there, almost entirely obscured by a thick fog. They, too, looked like clipped limbs of a tree as they floated by themselves outside the central spine. He tried reaching out to them, through the fog. It made his head pain spike to a new level, and Reid retreated entirely from the stats and skills tree. Cradling his head, he rocked back and forth in the moss. Now, everything hurt. His stomach rumbled, and his arm was still bleeding. He couldn''t touch his own stats or skills without a massive burst of pain, and had no idea of how to fix the damage the shackle had done to him. But, at least he could fix his headache. Reid focused in on the pain, and found himself pushing it down and soothing it a bit more quickly than before. On a hunch, he pushed his focus down into himself again. This time, though, he focused on his left arm, starting at the bicep. It was a structure damaged, with a series of wounds made by the teeth of the coyote. Tiny mechanisms were pushing blood there, clotting the wound and sending more cells to regrow flesh and skin. Reid pushed further, feeling like a ''zoom and enhance'' sequence was taking place inside his body. He could see his blood vessels, running through... bits of information came back to him, flashcards and textbooks he''d helped Susan study. Dermis. That skin was the dermis. Below that, was... hypodermis? Subcutaneous something? He couldn''t quite place the name, but he kept pushing deeper down until he reached the muscle. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. He felt out through his muscles, torn strands yearning to connect, and imagined and willed them to grow back together. Minutes passed, but he refused to break his concentration. Eventually, he felt two centers of¡­ something empower the muscle fibers and give them more structure. Slowly, strands of muscle reached out and connected to each other before anchoring themselves back to bone. His arm felt like it was on fire and his headache was slowly returning, but Reid pressed on anyway. He moved up, mentally sewing flayed skin back together. He lost focus for a moment as pain and heat overwhelmed him, but progressed stich by stich as the skin on his arm slowly healed. He pushed, up and down his left arm, puncture by puncture. He repaired the damage, endured the growing feeling of heat, and the growing headache plaguing him. He panted, pulling his focus out of his arm and taking in his surroundings again. The clearing was still just him and the beast corpses. His head pounded, making it hard to focus. Reid took a few minutes to steady it and push back the pain. Opening his eyes again, he looked down at his left arm. The sleeve of his shirt was in tatters, and he ripped it away before using what was left of the thing to wipe blood off of himself. Underneath the blood, though- Reid marveled at it. Pink, fresh skin dotted him where the coyote had punctured his flesh. His hand to his shoulder was entirely, completely whole. It burned, deep into the skin and down into his muscle, but his arm was healthy. He flexed it, and felt a few uncomfortable pulls of freshly healed muscle. So, it wasn''t perfect. Not quite as ''magical'' as the healing shackle had done for him, but he had healed a bit of himself. This was good. He''d been looking for a way to manage injuries with the shackle asleep, and he felt he was on the right track. It wasn''t anywhere near instantaneous, but as long as he won his fights and had time, he could work on himself. It came with consequences - his arm was in a massive amount of pain, and his headache still pulsed dully with every heartbeat, but that felt like a damn good tradeoff for not bleeding to death. Speaking of - Reid looked at his right arm. It was still an absolute mess. His leg still had some wet blood. And there were scrapes all over him that - if he was being honest - he was worried would get infected from the forest or from whatever was in coyote saliva. He took a few large breaths through his nose, and plunged into the work. # As dawn broke over the forest, a man convulsed violently with his eyes clenched shut, so hot to the touch that the moss under him had begun to wilt. He wore a grim determination on his face, as bits of parted skin slowly grew back together in real time. # When Reid opened his eyes again, the forest was lit in daylight. His head still ached, but the work he''d done to dull the pain before he passed out was effective enough that he could see and think clearly. His body ached in multiple places, but the most prominent one right now was his stomach. Groaning, he flopped over on his side, then his hands and knees as he slowly brought himself upright. Around him lay the night''s gruesome aftermath. Half the clearing was strewn with body parts and blood, with some resting on low tree branches, like sausages in a butcher shop. Reid''s stomach grumbled again. He realized, with a bit of concern, that he was so hungry, he was subliminally thinking about eating the gore up in the trees. He turned, and inspected the deer. Its antlers were as vicious up close as they''d seemed from afar, and Reid drew a pinprick of blood testing the ends with a finger. He sucked on it as he crouched down. At least some of the corpse was unspoiled, and looked like it would be safe enough to eat. Now, he just needed fire. # Reid swore as wind once again prevented his attempt. He''d used his knife, and a bit of early childhood memories with dear old dad to put together everything he needed to start a fire. He longingly thought once again about different his trek would''ve been if he had his pack. There was a little tool in there he could''ve scraped against his knife to make sparks, instead of doing things the hard way. He set back to work again, shielding the bits of wood with his body. # The sun was high overhead as Reid turned his skewers over the fire. It had taken much longer than he hoped, but Reid had successfully started the thing, grown it to something respectable, and cut what seemed to be good pieces of meat out of the deer. Now, he had different sized bits turning on shaved down branches braced against rocks to keep them from falling into the flames. It was a bit of survival ingenuity, he told himself as he salivated. With the smaller pieces, they''d cook quicker, and let him ingest something as soon as possible. Then, the larger pieces would be finished later on. And the moment of truth was almost at hand. Without a thermometer, Reid had decided the safest way to do this was letting the outside layer brown, and the smallest piece was finally there. With growing anticipation, he pulled the skewer out, and put the meat onto a flat-ish, clean-ish rock before slicing it in half with his knife. He beamed. The inside was cooked through, and Reid wasted no time popping it into his mouth. It burned his mouth a bit, but he chewed into it anyway, savoring even the gamey, slightly greasy piece of meat. It was good...ish. All too quickly, it was gone, and he turned his attention back to the second smallest chunk, still cooking over the fire. Soon, he thought. # It was another five agonizingly long hours before Reid had ''finished'' eating his fill and cooking the rest. He''d overcooked the larger pieces, and they were entirely dry. But Reid was happy, even for that. It had reminded him of something that would help him immensely - jerky. It had only taken the first hour to finish cooking the regular meat. The last four were spent tending to the thin strips he''d let the fire and smoke dry out. He''d architected a crude set of hangers for the meat, hoped he''d gotten the temperature right, and spaced the strips out to try and keep the airflow good. Now, he smiled as he pulled a piece apart. It was stiff in his hands, and he could see the little white fibers - feathering, he remembered - that meant it was done. He''d looked around for a bit after that, lost on what to do next, until he finally caved and went with his first idea on how to store and transport his new rations. He gave one look back at the clearing as he crested the small hill and continued towards his waypoint, grateful for the deer, and to the coyotes for giving him room to better understand his capabilities. Both his shirt sleeves were gone entirely, and his shirt hung open completely now, like a vest on some low-budget 80''s action hero. The idea of having abs was still new and - admittedly - a bit exciting to Reid, so who would really judge him for showing them off? He was still a bit hungry, even after his earlier deer feast. But if being able to heal himself was just a matter of pain and proper portions, he could deal with that. A ways into his walk, Reid reached down and pulled out a strip of meat. He blew on it a bit to get some junk off, then bit into the tough snack. After all, who didn''t like pocket jerky? CH 9: New Perspectives ~- Mark -~ Mark wiped the sweat off his brow and looked down to his side. Twenty thick wooden stakes down, another thirty to go before he''d stop for the day. He looked out from his camping chair and let a proud smile grow. A palisade surrounded the bulk of the campground, each wooden stake was almost eight feet high, even sunk into the ground. And each was one that Mark had made himself. A few locations had been turned into true ramparts, and some young archers lazily manned those positions. Mark had come to the campground to unplug, spend his days fishing, and drink as much as he could without his liver complaining. It did more and more of that these days, so his time was mostly spent fishing, and sleeping. He''d been out in his boat when the awakening happened. A crazy, dumb thing. At first, he''d thought a heart attack had finally taken him out and he was in some odd afterlife, but the truth had been far stranger. He''d had a hard time grasping what the system thing was saying, and so urged it to just get on with things so someone else could give him an explanation. When he reappeared, alone and on dry land, he''d done what made sense to him, and followed the instructions telling him to touch the beacon. It gave him an odd feeling, then let him pick the thing''s name. Sanctuary had felt like a good choice. Everyone needed a quiet place of their own. When he finished, it gave him an honorary title of some sort, and a reminder about his skill - Wood Manipulation [Uncommon]. Mark had never been truly skilled at carpentry, but now, he could make wood from any existing pieces, and shape it however he wanted. It was an exerting process, and it made him sweat even more than going to the gym, but making something with your own two hands was the most rewarding feeling in the world. It was a few minutes later that the first of the other people appeared. Some he recognized - neighboring families that were yearly residents at the campground. A troop of archery students. A younger couple that had come for the last few years, always wistfully looking at the other families'' children with a longing Mark understood all too well. Many, many others were new. People in hiking gear, pajamas, suits and ties alike were all popped down in the remote little campground. He''d preened when he realized his title gave him a special status in the group, and was even prouder when he realized he was the only one with an Uncommon skill. But Mark was not a leader, by any means. He hated dealing with groups of people, hearing them complain or making them work together. So when that hawk of a woman had stepped forward and asked, he''d initiated the ''transfer'' to give her the leader title. A hoarse laugh escaped him. She was a hardass, but reminded him of his favorite boss. They didn''t take shit, but they damn well made sure everyone did what needed to get done. She''d been the one to get him working on the wall project, and had actually been listening to his advice on making things as sturdy as they could be. So, he''d listened to her as well when she suggested learning how to make and actually use throwing spears. It was a new kind of motion, but Mark''s body listened well, and he was already getting pretty good with the things. It meant he was able to help, every time the creatures attacked his walls. Larger and larger groups of animals had been coming from the forest, on some sort of timer. It was, like everything else, odd. But Mark didn''t dwell on that much. He just made the defenses better, and kept trying to better understand the wood. After so much effort and concentration, he was even close to reaching level 2.
~_ Susan _~ Susan shook her head again and frowned. "Marlene, I get what you''re saying - I do. But Sara is a teenager. Even if things were normal, I wouldn''t want her going off into the woods with strangers, and things are NOT NORMAL. She could get hurt." It had been days since the awakening now, and Susan''s presence in the "Command Center" was a common one. As one of half a dozen health professionals in the campground, she was part of a highly valued group, especially as beasts kept trying to invade their space. As the only one given a healing skill, she had become the de-facto leader for medical care. There were no lab coats in the campground, but Sara, in all her eagerness and spare time, had found a thin white jacket and modified it for her. A large red square was sewn into the back, half a cover from a cloth medical kit that had a white plus symbol and the oversized bold letters spelling out "FIRST AID" underneath. The front breast of the jacket had another piece of a different first aid kit sewn on like a badge. It was a green circle, with a white plus sitting inside. She''d worn it at first because Sara had obviously put some time into making it. She''d kept going with it when she realized the other Sanctuary residents were recognizing her in it and and respecting her orders, when she gave them. Her team now owned a section of the command center building, a small wing that was originally a few bedrooms and one tiny nurse''s room. All but one of the bedrooms had been turned into patient areas, and the nurse''s room was now the ''operating room''. Not that one was really needed for her skill to work. The first time Susan had used her ''minor healing'', she''d watched bleeding stop and flesh mend - right in the middle of one of the roads by the campground''s perimeter. She''d struggled to guide the energy of her skill through the wound, but practice had made her more proficient, faster, and improved her skill itself. She was one of only a handful at Sanctuary that had reached level 2, and her skill point made a noticeable improvement to the speed of healing. She''d distributed her stat points evenly between perception, intelligence, and power, and saw marked changes in her abilities as a result. She had an easier time moving her patients around, and could better pick out small details about what was wrong with them. Two major issues marred what otherwise felt like a miracle. First, Marlene had accepted a ''pre-tutorial-quest'' in some well-meaning attempt to get everyone more power before the tutorial itself was scheduled to start. It had begun as a single animal from the forest wandering into their area, chewing on a man''s leg, and being summarily put down. Susan healed the man, and they started putting in better defenses, and watchers. Then small groups had attacked, and things had gotten tougher. There were more people in the infirmary, recovering, after the recent fights against large groups of the beasts. Now, there was some option to hunt in the woods instead of defending, and Marlene wanted to take it. But she also wanted to take Sara with them. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Susan had grown closer to the woman, and usually respected her decision making, but she just couldn''t let Sara be exposed to danger. Not without being there with her daughter. And Susan couldn''t leave the campground. The second major issue was that Reid was still missing. Everyone - every single other person that was teleported to the campground had come with those close to them. None had been separated, and everyone had appeared within two hours of each other. Now, days later, Susan was a wreck with worry. Her mind went to dark places. If Reid wasn''t here, something must have gone terribly wrong. Maybe he was teleported to the other side of the world. Maybe he was... gone. She tried her best not to think about it, but it was like pushing back the tide. Worse still was trying to hide her emotions, while trying to be the medical leader of the group, and also make Sara think everything was okay - all at once. Her daughter had been given a skill that helped her to know where things were, track animals and understand terrain, and most magical - to have an innate understanding of the path she needed to follow in order to reach her goal. She''d been adamant that Reid was in the general direction of the woods - where the hunt was supposed to take place. Marlene rubbed her forehead and sighed. "Susan, we need Sara there because things are not normal. She has the single most useful skill for something like this, and you and I both know that if I don''t take her with me, she will sneak out on her own to search for your husband. This is our best option. I want your buy-in, but I''m going into the woods no matter what. We can have Sara as an official part of the group, under my protection, or she''s going to follow us in and I won''t know where she is." Gears turned in Susan''s mind. She repeated the same arguments, back and forth for a long while. Her position eroded, until she finally caved. Susan took a deep breath and leveled a cold gaze at the woman that had become her closest friend in the post-awakening world. "Not a scratch, Marlene. Out and away from danger. She doesn''t see blood. Or fighting." Marlene started to nod. "And, if you do fuck up, and she''s in danger, it''s her." Susan''s face was cold steel. "Her over everyone else. Even over yourself." Marlene''s eyes went hard and she nodded again. "I promise."
~ Marlene ~ Marlene stalked through the woods, out ahead of the rest of her hunting party. Sara had already identified this would be their path forward, and the girl''s gift had proved frighteningly accurate. James was back with her. She had told her husband about the promise she''d made to Susan. Marlene wasn''t one to promise anything, so James understood the gravity of it. She trusted that he - with his wooden spear and the Mk27 he''d managed to keep hidden - would keep Sara safe. The Calderwall''s tale wasn''t especially tragic or noteworthy. Not compared to others Marlene had witnessed, at least. But Marlene had fucked up. She''d grown attached and invested. And that was noteworthy. Susan was damn smart and hardworking. She''d outpaced Marlene''s plans for an infirmary by leaps and bounds, shown initiative and care for what she was doing. And even under the stress she had, the woman still carried the weight of her responsibilities without so much as a groan. Her daughter was the same, even if Susan didn''t want to admit it. The girl was smarter than Susan gave her credit for. She had known something was up with her parents before the awakening, even if she didn''t know it was her father''s cancer. And she dealt with it by compartmentalizing, and hiding her worry from everyone around her. The girl reminded Marlene so much of herself. Resourceful, bright, focused, brave, and just a touch na?ve. It made her want to steer Sara in the right direction, teach her all the lessons that would be painful to learn on her own, and... protect her. It was part of the reason she''d pushed so hard to have Sara join the hunt - and the entire reason she''d promised to prioritize Sara''s safety above everyone else''s. If Marlene was honest with herself, she was going to do that anyway. Everyone she was leading at the campground, from the geriatrics to the starry-eyed kids, were hers to protect. But none of them felt as important as Sara. They all had their purpose, of course. The machine of society didn''t run if too many parts were missing, and society only worked if crazed beasts weren''t tearing it apart with tooth and claw. So, Marlene was the clockmaker keeping things running - and the force to keep the beasts at bay. Now more than ever, she needed to be the one to rally people forward. If they sat on their asses doing nothing, they''d die. If Mark didn''t do his fucking job and keep building them fences, the whole community was at risk. If the kids wouldn''t learn to use their new power properly, they''d hurt themselves, or others. The great gifts of the awakening had left her with something that she treasured. Identify was a common skill, and useful to her in combat, planning, and governance. But the real boon was the stat upgrades. Marlene had killed enough of the coyotes and other mutated things coming out of the woods to land herself halfway through level 3, and her stats showed that tremendous growth. It had taken a bit of time to understand and gather data, but a few things were known about stats now. First, each person seemed to start with a single point in each stat, unless one of their skills boosted it. Everyone - or at least everyone that had leveled up - got another three stat points to distribute as they wanted with each new level. Then, level gains also granted skill points, which let the skills grow slightly more powerful. And through the benefits from the beacon''s contract, they could easily distribute points, upgrade skills, and see their status anytime they wanted. Marlene briefly brought hers up.
STATUS Name: Marlene Beatrice Silence Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 3 Health: 40/40 Experience: 99/200 STATS: Constitution: 4 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 2 Perception: 3 Power: 3 Stat Upgrade Points: 0 SKILLS: Identify [Common] +3 Skill Upgrade Points: 0
It was a good start, but she knew everyone in her group had to gain as many points as possible before the tutorial event. They needed to have the best possible advantage against any new threat. Especially for the way things were already ramping. The challenge of their objectives had increased with every completed mission, but were always realistically difficult. It seemed to be pegged to their assumed increase in levels and ability. That also meant the special option she''d been given would likely be a serious threat. The last few waves of attacks were over a dozen beasts each, but this objective was to take down a single creature. If that kind of danger was living in Sanctuary''s backyard, she would root it out. With herself, James, a group of six level-two fighters, and Sara''s Pathfinding ability all working for them, she was confident. She looked at her objective once again. Kill One Salamander of Any Level (0/1) CH 10: Salamander
+ Reid + A roar shook the trees as the black bear batted away the smaller beast. It tumbled a few feet, righted itself, and came back screeching. Reid watched from a distance, knife already in his hand. His journey had continued through the forest, still silent in the continued absence of shackle''s chipper, traitorous banter. His pocket jerky was running low, and this was the first beast he''d heard in quite a while, so he had done his best to sneak his way into a spot where he could watch the fight unfold. It was, in a word - surprising. A mutated black bear, white froth dripping from its mouth down its chin, stood almost eight feet tall. It was intimidating, ferocious, and heavily wounded. Its opponent was a four-foot tall red salamander. It walked on its hind legs, had vicious-looking crystalline claws, and a mouth full of hooked teeth. It was also missing chunks of flesh from its torso and head from some of the bear''s better strikes. Those hadn''t slowed its attack. As Reid watched, the wounds the salamander took were healing visibly. Flesh wriggled as it regrew in a way that made his stomach turn. The salamander laid into the bear once again, a claw striking deep and rending chunks of flesh from the creature. The bear knocked it away, and the salamander landed behind a boulder. Reid''s blood ran cold as he watched its claws slice clean through the rock. It charged the bear again, ignoring the massive piece of boulder now tumbling into nearby trees. The salamander was incredibly dangerous. Stronger than it should''ve possibly been. Somehow able to heal in real time. And with claws that were impossibly durable. He needed to move, get away from the thing, but part of him wanted the fight. Either against the salamander or the bear, he could face a wounded opponent, fatigued from fighting. All while he was at full strength. It would be better than waiting for them to rest up and stalk him through the forest, Reid reasoned. And so he stayed, and watched. Until the end. The salamander had plunged both arms deep into the bear, but instead of knocking it away, the bear sunk its own long claws into the thing''s back and held it close. It bent and snapped out - not at the salamander''s head, but its arms. Bone cracked and the salamander screeched and flailed, but the bear held it tight. When they finally separated, the salamander was missing half of each arm. They ended in splintered bone and flayed flesh that hung and moved like torn rags. Blood seeped from both, slowly. It seemed to take a moment to consider its stumps, while the bear huffed and rolled onto its rump. The bear was bleeding quickly, large messy holes in its stomach, with both the salamander''s arms still stuck inside. Both beasts vocalized, the bear still sitting as the salamander ran towards it with impressive speed. It launched itself into the air, and sunk its teeth into the bear''s neck. The bear desperately tried to claw its back, but the fight it had shown earlier was gone. Its roars turned to gurgling groans as the salamander flailed itself against the larger beast, and tore out half of its throat. Then the salamander spat out the neck meat and walked away from the corpse. It licked its stumps a few times before sniffing the air. Reid shivered and willed himself to be as still as humanly possible. It didn''t work. The injured creature looked directly at where he was hiding, shrieked, and ran. Reid turned himself and tried to outrun the beast. He failed. It caught up to him, and he had to leap out of the way to avoid a leg getting chomped. He tried to fight, darting in and out of its range while cutting it with his knife. The shallow wounds he inflicted barely slowed it down. He stabbed into where its heart should be, taking a splintered arm bone bone to the leg for his efforts. It was flung back with the force of his blow, but only paused for a few moments before attacking him again. Fear rose in Reid. He tamped it down. Zombie protocol. Anything too hard to kill normally had to go down if you destroyed the brain, right? He took another leg injury to get close, and slammed his knife down into its head with all the force he could bring to bear. Arm bones pierced into his abdomen in fast, strong blows. Each left a burning pain in his gut. Killing this thing would have a heavy price. The blade sunk deeper... then met intense resistance. Reid tried to pull it back, but it was stuck. Wedged into the salamander''s impossibly durable skull. Even with his overwhelming power, Reid couldn''t penetrate it. "Oh, fuck me." The salamander took two steps back, shook its head side to side a few times, and lunged. Teeth pierced his arm and snapped bone. Reid was shaken and flung like a chew toy, arm bent and twisted unnaturally. He''d leaned against a tree - bleeding, dazed, and possibly dying, as the salamander tore off through the woods to fight another beast. Left for dead, the last few day''s events flashed through his mind before Reid slipped unconscious.
<> Shackle 213 <> The shackle''s faculties returned to it, like thawing out of a deep freeze. It panicked for some moments when it didn''t immediately feel the connection to the collective, but quickly succeeded in its frantic search. The rogue had caused great damage, but thankfully, it had not managed to disrupt that. Everything else was a problem that could be solved, but to be cut off from the collective would be... terrifying. It checked its walls - strong. The damage to the outlier''s self - not ideal, but something that could be fixed through a contract. By drawing the collective''s power through the beacon, all could be righted. Then it saw the physical state of its host. Reid was dead. His heart had stopped beating hours ago. Blood was pooled in his lungs. The flesh in his mangled arm had already blackened with the beginnings of rot, and his intestines slumped out of a mangled wound in his torso. Reid couldn¡¯t die. If he did, shackle 213 would fail its mission. It would disappoint the collective. Or worse - it may never again feel the warmth of that truest home. The shackle moved its focus away from the physical, and started to look through everything else the collective''s power allowed it to see. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Reid''s memory was still intact, as was his self - the entity made a note that it was still tethered strongly to his physical body. His mana was... definitely still there, but had largely faded. The entity hadn''t needed to inhale in eons, but it still mimicked a long inhale before its final check. It focused on Reid''s brain. Deeper, more minute, into the folds and down to the axons. A soft, slow game of chemical ''catch'' was still being played between receptors. The sparks of life were still there, faint and flickering. Reid was dead - but not so far dead that options were unavailable. If he finished dying, the entity would be stuck. Potentially for eons. It would fail. That couldn''t happen. The shackle brought all the free energy left within it to a single point, for a single purpose. If there was an after to this, it would struggle. There would be no more extrasensory perception to warn the outlier of danger, no ability to sense its physical state, or to read the minds of others. It would be completely helpless to repair damage the rogue had done - and almost helpless in its ability to stop another attack from the rogue. It would be unable to hide system messages, steer or change outcomes. Doing this would damage its connection to the collective. It would be helpless, and it would be alone. But it was the only way the outlier might live. If it could reach a beacon, all could be righted. It acted, transforming the energy into healing and resurrection magics that jolted through the outlier''s physical body. Dead flesh flashed with an orange light, twitching and convulsing. Wounds spat out discolored, partially coagulated blood before they started knitting themselves together. Intestines pulled back into the body as it closed up the majority of the covering skin. Minutes passed between heartbeats, then seconds. Fluid drained from the lungs and they began to inflate and deflate, diaphragm being pulled and pushed by the magic until the body began breathing on its own. The energy faded. Reid was breathing and his heart was beating, but he was still in a dire state. Marred by wounds and broken bones, but not completely dead. If someone found him, healed him, he might live. It had to be enough.
~ Marlene ~ "EVERYBODY BACK!" Marlene shouted above the party''s screams. "Keep your goddamn distance!" Two men were dead. Or would be soon. If they had Susan, maybe she would''ve been able to do something for them, but they would never make it back to camp. The beast¡¯s claws had taken one''s legs, and it tore the other''s arm off with a bite before stabbing him through the chest. Blood was streaming out of one side, staring to puddle on the ground beneath him. They both had some sort of martial skill bestowed by the system, and definitely weren''t new to brawls, but they were not experienced. Marlene had made a mistake with them. When the party found their quarry, it had been sleeping. She ordered everyone to surround the beast, quietly. Attacks would only come on her orders. They could all strike as one, and deal as much damage as possible before it even knew they were there. The salamander had twitched in its sleep, and one idiot took it as a reason to break the plan. He''d charged forward and managed to skewer it through the guts, anchoring it to the ground with the wooden spear. In his success, he''d approached closer to finish it with a knife. The claws took his legs in the blink of an eye, tearing through tissue and bone like it were paper. The next one down was a man that thought a spear''s range would keep him safe. He''d stabbed it repeatedly, in the chest, then the head. He had shouted out between blows that the beast was healing its wounds. Then, more frantically, shared that the salamander''s skull had stopped - and splintered - the wooden spear. Mark may have been a lazy, aimless old drunk - but his woodcraft weapons were tough as steel. If they couldn''t penetrate the beasts skull, then neither would anything else. Only moments after getting the information out, the salamander had tipped the man off balance by pulling his weapon. His arm had snapped off like a twig in its powerful jaws, and the following claw strike ended him. Her mind turned. Examined possibilities. The creature was flailing around, but hadn''t tried to cut the spear or snap it off to get itself free. That meant it had instinct, but lacked real intelligence. The healing wounds meant they needed to make decisive blows against it or their actions were basically worthless. The skull issue meant they needed to get precise if they wanted to deal a decisive blow. And the thing''s ferocity and power meant they should avoid going near it at all costs. Range, and eye sockets. She instinctively dropped a hand to her Mk25 at the thought. It would be easy, or mostly easy at this range. But there was no guarantee they''d ever get more ammunition. At least not any that would work in their firearms. They needed to use sustainable means as much as possible. That meant spears. Four of the party were still up and in fighting shape, but her faith in everyone''s abilities was a bit damaged. They might not be combat assets, but their weapons were. She barked orders, then acted. With practiced precision, she advanced over the forest floor. Her steps avoided the bodies of the downed men, and she paused only for a moment before hurling her spear at the still struggling beast. A loud scraping noise pierced the forest as her strike went an inch wide and slid across its skull. A miss. She whirled to the closest man and grabbed the spear he tossed to her, catching it and whirling around again to strike in a single fluid motion. The salamander was gripping the anchoring spear, attention focused on it. Any more hesitation and it might figure out how to break free before she killed it. Her arm tensed, and she threw. The spear whistled as it split the air. The beast was still looking at its anchor. It wasn''t thrashing this time. The point of the spear impacted just to the side of its slitted pupil. The eyeball made a sound like condensed soup coming free of its can as it deformed and popped under the pressure. The spear shook as its haft bounced against the edges of the eye socket. The salamander''s head snapped towards the ground when the weapon impacted the other side of its skull, blood and pulp spraying back out of the eye socket around the spear. A breath she hadn''t intended to hold escaped her when the quest objective updated. Then the notification flashed. Kill One Salamander of Any Level (1/1) Completed! Salamander lvl 2 defeated. **Select a new quest within 2 hours to prevent auto-assignment** Kill 2 Salamanders (0/2) OR Defend against a salamander attack on Beacon, SANCTUARY There would be time to consider those options. For now, she had a mess to tend. "Toby - perimeter circle. Yell as loud as you can if you see anything." She pulled off her pack and took out two of the HRPs. Thank God there had been an ambulance at the campground when everything happened. "Lowell - you and I are going to take care of the bodies before the kid can see them. I''ll collect the pieces." She handed him the bag to unfold, then collected the severed legs and placed them inside before moving to lift in the rest of the body. Off to her side, Toby retched and vomited. "Oscar - take Toby''s job. Toby, you stay here until you can sort yourself. This is real, and you need to be able to take it." She looked at the last member of the group. "Louis - you were going to veterinary school, right?" He eyed the corpse and swallowed. "Yes ma''am." She nodded. "Cut it open and tell me how it works. Then tell me how we can kill one that isn''t asleep. Without losses." He only paused a moment before unsheathing a small knife. Louis circled the corpse, stepping over the spear embedded in its eye. "Ma''am - can I borrow the machete?" She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I want to remove the claws first. There''s a risk otherwise that id hit something wrong, the arm could twitch and cut me." He paused. "I also want to see whether the claws are stronger than the rest of it." Marlene made a mental note, then unstrapped the blade from her back. "Good thinking, kid. Keep it up." # When the bags were zipped closed, a thought struck her. If they turned back now, Susan may never let Sara out of the camp again. Not after seeing the bodies. And if they had this much trouble with a level 2 beast, the things would probably run straight through most of their camp. If she didn''t continue hunting, she could fail the quest, and put everyone else in the camp in danger. If they kept going, she could permanently solve the problem. Louis had the creatures flesh folded open and away from it. Organs were sitting on the ground, and the skull was fully exposed. He hadn''t found any special anatomy that healed the creature, but had seen there were more ways to harm it. A hole near the back of its jaw was big enough that they could send a spear through. And - even more promising was that the bottom of its jaw was close enough to its brain that a long enough blade would reach from the bottom. The best news was unfolding in front of her now. Louis had managed to tape a handle to one of the creature¡¯s claws - and the makeshift weapon was buried at the end of a long gash in the durable skull. Toby, still green, was attaching a claw to one of the intact spears. They had weapons. Knowledge. Ability. Marlene accepted the next hunting quest. CH 11: Dead(ly) -{#-} Loz''ar {-#}- Beams of red light danced along the white marble walls from a crimson chandelier. An arched ceiling twenty feet above was painted with angelic figures. The room offered no windows, and only a single door. An imposing grey oval table took up the middle of the room, surrounded by low-backed chairs occupied by humanoids of all different species. They peered at info screens, data shifting quickly as dozens of eyes scanned through. At the head of the table, furthest from the door, a young looking man with tight red skin looked bored. His chair was high-backed, adorned at the top with a pair of baseball-sized rubies. Behind him, the glyphs for "Blasdej Interplanetary Consortium" were carved into the wall. A crocodilian-faced being spoke. "Magnate Blasdej, the potential damages from a salamander infestation on this planet would be enormous, both on-planet and to the Consortium''s reputation. The last infestation to spread..." The screens in front of them flicked to new data and they read from the text, "was twelve millennia ago, and resulted in a purge of... 29 planets with roughly eight-hundred-billion sentient lifeforms. The spread happened when low-level salamanders stowed away on a transport ship." They looked up from the screen and continued. "So yes, this is dangerous right now. I recommend we inform the local CCE officials and follow their advice. Anything else may bring unwanted attention." Farther down the table, a being that looked like a swirling dust cloud retorted. "Renek, you miss the point. Inviting the CCE into our operations sets a poor precedent. This is early days. If we simply slag the continent with the infestation, we avoid outside investigators and a complete loss of investment. Magnate, let us order the strike and be done with this." A thin, lanky, orange woman with three eyes set in a horizontal line on her forehead spoke next. She sat to the immediate right of the young man. "Again, I remind you all that calculations show a high chance that the first planetary lord will emerge from a beacon close to this infestation. And it is a single infestation in a single area. If we resort to extremes now, we may lose our chance at a better return later on." The young man sighed and put his elbows on the table. When he moved, all murmuring in the room died out. "I''m inclined to agree with Finola. We do nothing. If the problem grows, no Enforcers. I''d sooner slag the entire planet than give them excuses to spend more time in our orbit." He turned to the three-eyed woman. "You own this now. If the future planetary lord doesn''t kill the threat in its crib, just slag the continent while they''re off in the tutorial and send them back somewhere else. If things go poorly, slag the planet. I will not be responsible for letting an EOS designated species proliferate." The man stood and walked from the room in unhurried steps. Everyone else around the table bowed from their seats. And so, by the grace of Loz''ar Blasdej, Earth would live to see another day.
+ Reid + Reid opened his eyes to a black, quiet night. He was tired of nights in these woods. He looked around, slow and sluggish, attempting to peer into the dark. He tried to move his arm, and screamed in pain. That''s right. He had lost a fight. His rational mind worked through the pain, and he inspected himself. Even in the dark, he could see cuts and holes in his exposed skin. Bone poked through his purple left arm where it was bent at an unnatural angle. His body shook as he became aware of more and more of the pain. The shakes agitated his mangled arm, and sent him into another scream. He hyperventilated, and each breath he took felt like a thousand knives stabbing into his abdomen. By the time he calmed himself back down, he was drenched in sweat. A cold, unnerving feeling sat in him - just below the pain. It felt like dying. Thoughts raced through his mind. The salamander hadn''t killed him, which probably meant it wouldn''t be coming back to finish things - or eat him. Enough time had passed that some wounds were closed, but he had also lost a lot of blood. His left arm... needed some attention. He didn''t know whether he''d be able to continue through the forest with it as-is. If the salamander returned, he would need to escape - maybe climb a tree. That wouldn''t be easy. None of it would matter if he couldn''t get himself mobile again. Reid pulled on the status thread and checked his condition. Health: 3/20 ... Health: 2/20 He cursed inwardly as he watched the number fall, and forced his senses down into his body as quick as he could manage. Reid started with his organs. His heart muscles were stiff and weak. They stretched unnaturally around the chamber pumping blood through his body. Bits of information hit him - the chamber was enlarged because his heart was overworked. The ventricle was thin, and causing more problems. Reid took his best guess of what his own healthy heart looked like and willed muscle to grow, and cells to repair themselves. Intense, deep pain ached in his chest. His Lego-brain headache threatened his concentration. But he pushed on harder. He followed his blood out of a probably repaired heart, mentally noting every place he found severe damage. He worked on his abdomen, only stopping once to vomit at the sensation of rearranging his own intestines before closing up a particularly nasty gash. His leg''s scrapes were stitched together. Then every other injury he could find. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Until he couldn''t ignore his left arm any longer. Reid was already drenched in sweat, burning like a furnace and nearly blind from pain. He forced himself to swallow a piece of pocket jerky and tamp down his headache before diving back into himself. Jagged cuts dotted his arm, each one a small crater of mayhem that sunk down towards the bone. He started with those, willing the flesh and muscle to knit itself together. Then the grand finale. Swearing at the top of his lungs, Reid grabbed his left wrist with his right hand and wrenched it sideways. The jagged, broken bone grated as he tried to align it. Then it slipped as the pieces pulled past one another. The pain was indescribable. Reid rolled on his back, screaming and kicking the ground with his heels. This was torture. Unnecessary. He could stop. He''d done enough. He didn''t need - Reid smacked the back of his head against the ground as he tried to physically interrupt the weak line of thought. This was necessary. Reid braced his elbow on the ground. He couldn''t stop. Reid picked up a tree branch with his right hand and put it between his teeth. He needed to do more. Reid flexed his fingers before curling them back around his wrist. He would do anything to survive. To reunite with his family. Reid pulled until the tips of sharded bone were an inch apart from each other. The branch groaned under the force of his teeth. It muffled his scream. This was just another obstacle. Reid forced himself to slowly push his arm back together. The grind of bone on bone felt like it rattled his entire skeleton. He didn''t flinch. Even as he regrew blood vessels and muscle around the still-splintered bone. He didn''t let go as he moved from muscle to skin. Didn''t pull back when the burning pain of regrowth threatened to block out every other sensation. Then, he focused on the bone. His muscles and skin, even his organs had responded to his will. They all reacted slowly, no matter what. But the bone wasn''t listening. Reid pushed, imagined it healing, growing back together, fusing. Nothing seemed to work. He pulled himself back a bit, and focused on the idea of his bones... but they seemed oddly opaque, like a wall of fog was separating him from his skeleton. He focused on the fog, and winced when it re-ignited his headache. He took a moment to soothe that pain, then focused in again, pushing into the fog wall. It flexed, then rippled out far to each side of his blow. The headache slammed him back in response. The branch in his mouth cracked as he pushed through the pain. He slammed his will into the wall over and over, each hit sending mental recoil straight into his brain. Then the wall cracked. It spidered out from his blow as far as he could see to either side. He took a breath, centered himself, and smashed through. That''s when something unexpected happened. Calcification [Uncommon] Fully Unlocked! Hardening [Common] Fully Unlocked! Strengthening [Basic] Fully Unlocked! WARNING: Skills are dangerous for unawakened beings on basic worlds. Please report to your closest beacon to complete your awakening. The shock had knocked his focus back, and he was again looking at the forest around him. Morning light was beginning to filter through the trees. Reid REALLY wanted to see what he''d just done, but that could come later. Right now, he needed to finish things. He dove back into his arm, still burning like a furnace. He focused in on the sharded bone, and pushed his will along with images of fusing bone. Tiny dots of growth shot out from each side and connected, then grew into larger and larger points. It was slow, painful, and effective. The splintered break wasn''t perfectly healed, but the pain and grating were gone. Reid opened his eyes again. It was still only morning. "Holy shit." He said to the trees. This was monumental. It had taken him hours each time to heal flesh, but his bone seemed like it barely took any time at all to mend. If that was what his skills were really capable of, Reid was going to be unstoppable... if he could ever fix his stat issue. He brought up his status screen to check on his health.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 4 Health: 28/40 Experience: 357/400 STATS: Constitution: 4 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 8 Control: 23 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
Reid rubbed his eyes and looked again. He hadn''t just healed himself - his health pool had grown. His eyes flitted down to his stats and he smacked the forest floor with the palm of his hand. His Constitution had increased. Reid hadn''t leveled. There were no points available to him, but his constitution had still gone up. And... now that he was looking through things, so had his power. This was important. If Reid had really managed to change his stats, then could he do it again? All that happened was healing himself, doing what he could to make his organs work a bit better, and he''d increased blood flow to a few areas that seemed like they would benefit. If that could improve stat points... he could do it again. Reid breathed heavy as his mind raced. He''d already managed the pain. The heat was something he could deal with. There was no reason not to try. He dove back into his recently-healed body and investigated. Not for damage, but for potential growth. Starting with his arms, Reid sent energy into the muscles. Instead of regrowth, he focused on improvement. Density and bulk. More areas to anchor the muscle to bone. More force that could be exerted for each strand. He felt his skin stretch as his arms grew. It cracked in some places, leaking blood. He pushed until the pain became truly awful, then pressed farther. It led him to what felt like a steep hill. The hill was a real barrier. No matter how hard he pushed, he could no longer gain momentum. It was as if going further would require more energy than he had available. Reluctantly, he let himself stop his progress. The hill was something he could fight another day. When he pulled away from the arm, all of his changes - no, improvements - stayed. He grinned through the pain and started on his other arm. Then his legs. Reid grew muscles all over his body, in every area that seemed possible - even his tongue. Then, he repaired the damaged skin. It required quite a bit of regrowth to cover the newly expanded area of his body, then rested. Reid was exhausted. Completely drained. Hungry. Sore. Still lying on his back with his eyes closed, he devoured the rest of his jerky and fell asleep. CH 12: Round 2 Reid awoke, coughing and sputtering as an unchewed piece of jerky slipped partway down his throat. Thankfully, it dislodged itself when he rolled over. He panted, looking at the small bit of meat on the ground. He spent a long minute considering how awful it would be to survive the absolutely unimaginable pain he''d put himself through just to choke to death on half-chewed snacks. Reid finally shook away the thought and sat back, cross-legged. He looked at himself. Reid was swole. Glorious pecks pushed his tattered vest-shirt partway open. If the shirt still had sleeves, he guessed his new biceps would''ve ripped them apart. He wasn''t actually sure he could remove the shirt anymore without ripping it. His once-baggy hiking pants strained against his thighs and a pair of massive calves. He felt damn good. Reid carefully raised a finger to his arm and poked it. The muscle felt completely solid. He tried to wrap his hand around it, and smiled when it didn''t even cover the bicep halfway. After a very small, totally reasonable amount of time checking himself out, Reid decided to check on his gains a different way. He focused in on the changes.
Constitution: 4 -> 5 Power: 8 -> 11.5
He marveled at it. Once again, even though he wasn''t focused on that, his constitution had increased. And, his power had risen to half of his control total. Exactly half. Reid''s face scrunched in thought. There hadn''t seemed to be any option to distribute half points back when he had viewed the options. And it just didn''t seem right, by usual game logic. There weren''t half-levels, right? Not usually. It felt like there was meaning in it - somehow related to the hill he felt when he''d tried to push himself further. If he really had met the limit of his ability to self-strengthen, did that mean the ability was pegged to his control level? He would either need to find a way to massively raise other stats, or increase his level and try for power again, he reasoned. Phantom pain jolted through him as he pictured another muscle-growth session. Then his pangs of hunger made themselves known. More strengthening could - and should - wait until he properly fed himself. Reid popped to his feet, stomach rumbling. He instinctively looked for his knife, and frowned when he realized it would still be stuck in the salamander. He''d have to find another way to finish off his next meal. # Reid trudged loudly though the forest, trying to catch the outline of something edible in the receding dusk light. In one hand, he held a stone the size of a small child. He glanced at it again, sighed, and gave himself the same reminder he''d been repeating for a while now - ''It isn''t stupid if it works''. He figured that when he found a creature, he had two really solid options. Option 1, he would rush the creature and smash it. Option 2, he would throw the stone at the creature, smashing it at range. He nodded to himself. "Rock solid plan." Light was almost gone when the high-pitched, wailing call pierced the forest. Reid''s heart pounded in his chest. That was the bugle of a bull elk. Elk were large mammals on normal, non-awakened days. The bigger males could weigh over 1,000 pounds. They had antlers, and could kick with a great deal of force. Part of Reid did not want to know what an awakened elk was capable of. A bigger part of him was hungry - for food, and for a fight. # The elk stood at the center of a clearing. Long grass swayed in the cool night breeze, sweeping against the elk''s legs. Reid said a silent thank you to any listening deity and licked his lips. It appeared completely mundane. It was quartering away from him, back and right side visible for Reid to target. He wrapped his fingers tighter around his rock and found himself naturally taking a baseball pitcher''s stance. He kicked a leg, and threw. The Rock whistled as it hurled through the air in a straight line at the still-stationary mammal. A baritone THWUMP echoed off the trees as the rock impacted the creature just right of its tail. The elk''s backside exploded, hind legs and torso turned to a pink mist as the rock obliterated it. The front half slammed forward and bounced once off the ground before coming to a rest in the now-red grass. You have defeated Elk lvl 8. Experience awarded. Reid looked at his hand, and back at the elk. The rock was a good idea, after all. # Reid cooked and ate through the night, two fires burning so he could keep one entirely focused on jerky while he cooked open flame elk steaks in the other. They sat on mostly-straight points of the elk''s antlers he had broken off. The antlers had been almost as tall as he was, and Reid turned a jagged, two-foot long piece in his hand while he stared at the fire. Something clicked, and the memory of his wall-smashing escapade flashed into his mind. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. He put down the antler, checked on his jerky, and took a few deep breaths before he closed his eyes and reached out for the skills.
Strengthening [Basic] Scales with Level. User''s base power is increased. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Hardening [Common] Scales with Level. Increases resistance to bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing damage. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Calcification [Uncommon] Scales with Level. Increases bone durability. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Highly advanced practitioners can create bone armaments and armor.
He let out a whistle. Strengthening no longer had a partially restricted note next to it. The entire function of the skill was open to him - and may have been why Reid was able to push it further than just repairing torn muscle. But, this skill was definitely the one responsible for his ability to do some self-healing, and for the... well, the strengthening. Hardening was an interesting one. He hadn''t been cut or stabbed at since unlocking it, and wasn''t quite sure what it did or how it was supposed to feel. He didn''t want to injure himself just to find out, so he moved on to the final skill. Calcification was an interesting name, to start. Calcification was generally a bad thing - calcium building up in body tissues was bad for one''s health. if it was referencing calcium deposits on bones, those were called bone spurs - or osteophytes, if he was recalling Susan''s flashcards right. Neither seemed like a skill anyone would want to have. He had also only been able to repair his arm after unlocking this skill. So there had to be more to it that wasn''t well represented by the name. He looked again at the description. Increased bone durability was a great add. With that, his arm might be able to survive the next bite from a beast - not that he wanted to try it. It was the only skill that had a ''highly advanced practitioners'' note in the description, as well. Bone armaments and armor meant bone weapons, right? Reid mused on the idea of himself - a bulked-out, near shirtless man, charging into a fight wielding a bone club. He would look absolutely feral. A screech filled the clearing, and Reid''s eyes snapped open. At the edge of the tree line, a Red salamander with fully intact claws stared Reid down with its slitted, angry eyes. The skin on its head had grown up to the handle of a knife wedged into its skull. # Dirt flew as the salamander tore towards Reid in the center of the clearing. He took a moment to look around. There were no rocks or cover to hide behind - and none to throw. Reid hadn¡¯t even started to look for the one he''d used to take out the elk. The only thing close by was the jagged piece of antler. Reid picked it up in his right hand and lowered himself into a ready squat. His heartbeat slammed in his ears and he drew short, shallow breaths. He already knew he couldn''t outrun the beast. He had to fight. When it was only feet away, it lunged teeth-first. Reid twisted and took a half step back as it soared through empty air. He raised the antler above his head and gripped it with both hands, then plunged down with it in one smooth motion. The salamander''s forward momentum was completely stopped as it slammed into the ground, improvised weapon stuck through its midsection and into the earth below. It scratched frantically at the dirt, trying and failing to scramble away. Reid let go of the antler and grinned. The salamander was still stuck. He''d managed to capture it. He lifted a boot high and brought it down as hard as he could on the beast¡¯s clawed arm. Flesh squelched and bone snapped, and Reid''s boot found the dirt below the creature. He took a moment to marvel at himself. The middle of the salamander''s arm looked like a deflated balloon, only connected by a thin strip of ragged skin. He hadn''t just broken the arm, he crushed it. The salamander was even more violently trying to break free now. Reid ignored the ear splitting screeches it emitted. He moved to a hind leg and repeated the boot slam. Same result. The flesh on the deflated front arm was already starting to wriggle and heal. It was slow enough that Reid had time to continue. For the other hind leg, Reid decided to try a punch. The outcome was nearly the same, but this time he could feel the muscle and bone breaking down under the force of his blow. He did it again for the clawed front leg, just to be sure. The same result happened, but Reid noted the far end of the arm, towards the claws, felt like it took more force to destroy. It might mean the bones themselves got harder before they met crystal. The salamander was smashing its head against its shoulder, trying to get close enough to put some part of Reid into its snapping jaws. Reid stared at the knife crowning its head for a moment before he stood and walked to the back of the creature. He braced a foot against its rump and grabbed the tail with one hand. "Not yet." He started to pull with only a fraction of his strength, slowly increasing it until he heard and felt the tail starting to stretch and tear. "You still have more to teach me." # The salamander looked like a fresh kill in a cluttered butcher shop. Ten torn limbs were scattered around it, along with a trio of tails that ended in uneven, torn flesh. There were also chunks of meat, some with clean cuts, and others that were half-crushed on the edges. A few vertebrae were stacked like a pyramid - though the top piece had fallen down. Reid was crouched in front of the salamander, knife in his left hand. It was no longer flailing, but its jaws still snapped angrily. He''d learned much from the salamander. He knew how long it would take its limbs to fully regenerate, and that the back limbs did so slower than the clawed ones. He knew tails would grow back the fastest, and internal organs took the longest. Skin that was sliced cleanly healed faster than ragged openings. Bones from its spine regrew at the same speed as bone in the back legs. Reid also learned that he could crush or pull apart the salamander with his bare hands. He put away his knife and pushed down on the salamander''s nose until the jaws were finally shut. Its yellow eyes still shone with a fierce glean. He raised his right fist and let out a breath with a slight shudder. "Fuck you, lizard. I win." The skull cracked and splintered under his blow, and his fist was covered in grey matter when he pulled it back. The notification popped onscreen. You have defeated Salamander lvl 2. Experience awarded. Reid made the short walk back to his dying fires. He pulled a blackened steak off his antler skewer and tossed it over his shoulder. Then plodded over to the elk and cut off a section with his newly reclaimed knife. It sizzled in the fire as juices dripped down. He gave another glance back at the salamander''s corpse. He would hunt and kill every fucking thing in this goddamn forest. He''d tear it all apart with his bare hands if he had to. He would make it to the beacon. The fire popped and sputtered. Reid added another piece of wood. "I win." CH 13: Progress
~ Marlene ~ Marlene realized Sara was waving a hand in front of her face. "Sorry, what?" The girl gave her a questioning look. "What happened? You just kinda zoned out. I''ve been waving at you for like, a loooong time." Marlene set her face into a warm smile. "Nothing to worry about. Just thinking we should change things up a bit, maybe get ourselves stocked with some new supplies from camp." She turned to her husband. "James, could you take Toby and Lowell back to get us some more food and weapons? I don''t want to run out. Oh! And bring Sara with you - it''ll be tough finding us again if you don''t have her to point out the path." James'' eyebrow was cocked, but he controlled it when Sara looked his way. "Right, honey. I think Toby and Lowell can also give us a hand with, ah... transporting the rest of the team home." Toby''s face turned green. Sara gave Marlene and James an unimpressed look. "I''m not a kid. I''ve heard my mom talk about death. You don''t have to tiptoe around it. Two people got hurt. They died. We have to get them back and give them a proper burial or they''re going to start to decay. It''s the humane thing to do." Toby gagged and spun away from the group. Marlene latched onto the misunderstanding. "You''re right Sara, I''m sorry. We need to get them back, or it''s going to start creating even more problems for us. I can''t stop the hunt or it might cause quest issues. But you would be able to lead the group back to Sanctuary, and you''ll be able to find me again after." She turned her head to the side where the final two members of her hunting party stood. "I''ll keep Louis and Oscar with me, and we can keep focusing on things here." Louis nodded at her. Oscar continued scanning the woods in front of them, ignoring the conversation. Sara fidgeted with her hands and stared at the ground. "You''ll tell me, right?" She looked back up at Marlene, her face a hard, stoic mask. She wiped away the tears forming in her eyes like they''d insulted her. "If I''m not here and you find my dad. You''ll tell me even if he''s gone. I know he might be. Pathfinder knows exactly where you are, and where mom is, and everybody else, but it would only tell me that dad''s in the forest. So I know he might be d... I just want to know." Marlene pulled the girl into a hug before answering. "I know you''re strong, Sara. I''ll tell you whatever we find out." She put her hands on Sara''s shoulders and separated. "But for right now, I need to talk to James for a minute, and then send you all off to camp." # They walked for a minute before James stopped and turned back to her. "So?" Marlene scanned behind her to double check no one from the group had tagged along. "Problem. We''re not the only ones out here." He coked his head. "Sara''s dad? Or something else?" Marlene sighed. "Not Reid. Sara said on day 1 that he was in the forest. You and I both know there''s no way he survives the kind of beasts we''ve been dealing with. Not for this long. And especially not with the salamanders around here... No, this has to be other people. Skilled." Marlene opened the notifications back up. Kill 2 Salamanders (2/2) completed! Bonus xp awarded for high performance. Difficulty automatically increased based on performance. **New Quest Assigned** Kill Salamanders level 4 or higher (1/5) (47:38:12) **WARNING!** Two-day timer automatically applied to quest. If the quest is not completed within the allotted timeframe, a beacon defense quest will be automatically assigned. She leveled her gaze back at James. "They killed three salamanders, in quick succession - and their kills counted for our quest. That''s how I know. It would be odd if other creatures killing the salamanders counted for our progress - and honestly, I''m not sure what else in this forest can kill one of those things." James was nodding. "But... you said the quest you had was to take down two salamanders. If you know they killed three, does that mean you selected the next quest already?" "That''s the thing. I got the notification for the 2 kill completion, and it had notes we haven''t gotten before about high performance. It said that performance increased the difficulty, then auto-assigned a hunt quest to take down 5 of the salamanders, and they have to be level 4 or higher. James, I watched the counter go from zero to one while I had the thing open." She looked back in the direction of the group. "And if we don''t complete the quest in two days, there''s going to be a salamander attack on Sanctuary. I need you to go back and make sure everyone is ready for it if it happens. I need to figure out who else is out here, and decide whether or not they''re going to be a threat to us." James Nodded. "I''ll handle it. The way back should be clear, so we''ll make good time. And Oscar will be good for you to have here. But we should swap Lowell and Louis. Lowell''s a tough nut, I think he''d be better to have if you need to solve a problem. Louis seems capable, but I don''t think he''s ready to stab somebody." "I''m working him up to it. I''d rather you have Lowell with you on the off chance you run into someone on the way back. Toby''s useless, so take Lowell to balance him out." This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Faint bits of conversation drifted over from the rest of the group as they stared at each other for a long while. James broke first. "Fine, honeybadger. I''ll take Lowell. Just be careful. Whoever''s out there, they''re probably dangerous, well organized, and intelligent."
+ Reid + Reid finished his third round of retching and flopped down. His glorious pecks rose and fell with short, panted breaths. He''d forgotten that salamander meat was toxic. Or poisonous? Eh, it didn''t matter what the term was. Reid had eaten it, and paid the price. It had cooked up remarkably quickly, and he''d swallowed down multiple mouthfuls before his stomach revolted. He wiped a bit of spittle off his cheek and spat towards the new corpses. His lovely little grassy clearing was quickly filling up with gore and death. Looking back, the fight with the newcomers had been almost anticlimactic. The trio of salamanders had appeared together, and seemed to signal each other with odd popping sound like dripping water. They''d charged him in unison, and experienced the glory of Reid''s rock collection. A few hours foraging for large rocks had netted him a respectable pile that sat close to the still-burning fires. This clearing was going to be his home until he made as much jerky as he could carry, and he''d adorned it with a sitting rock, sleeping grass, and - because he wanted to be fancy - a rock table. Only the smaller rocks in the pile were for throwing. His thrown stone had torn the first salamander almost in half. Its spinal cord was severed, so he''d known it was out of the fight for at least a few minutes. He''d pitched the second salamander a perfect fastball that connected with - and obliterated - its head. Then he let the third one get in close to test himself. It had given Reid some cuts on his arm, but they weren''t deep. Satisfied, he''d slammed his fist through the salamander''s skull to bring it down. In the walk over to the final living one - the first he''d wounded - Reid decided he may as well test his new bone strength. There didn''t seem to be any more enemies lurking around, and he wanted to know what he could expect if he had to take a bite in an actual fight. He took the crippled salamander''s front legs off and crushed its partially regrown spine, then straddled it. He readied his right fist over the top of its head and - with a bit of hesitation - put his left forearm out in front of the creature''s mouth. It snapped down immediately. Reid swore as the salamander whipped its head back and forth in a desperate attempt to shred his arm. The teeth had sunk in, but not down to the bone. The thrashing agitated the tooth wounds, but failed to shake Reid like it intended. He kept his arm there, still, and waited for it to bite him four more times before he decided that his theory was proven. His arm could survive the bites. # When he was convinced his stomach was settled, Reid opened his status screen to check the changes.
Level: 4 -> 5 Exp: 399/400 -> 589/800 Control: 23 -> 28 Power: 11.5 -> 14 Constitution: 5 -> 6
His newest round of intense and lingering pain had brought with it a confirmation that massively raised Reid''s spirits. He''d been able to increase his muscle density again, throughout his body, and encountered the same hill and energy barrier as the last time. His Power, when finished, was exactly half of his control. The extra points had already been noticeable when he more easily moved around his rock chair, and really showed themselves when he took down the salamander trio. If this kept working for him, it meant Reid would be able to gain 2.5 points in power with every level. Not fantastic, but it would at least be enough to keep him relevant in the fights going on around him. He ached at the thought of how far behind everyone else he was going to be when it came to dexterity, perception, and intelligence, though. It wasn''t for a lack of trying. Reid had attempted to make his brain function better. He''d attempted to make his ears more sensitive, and tried to visualize himself as a far more coordinated individual. None of it worked. It felt as though he was missing something fundamental and just out of reach - like forgetting the name of a song that was on the tip of your tongue. He''d saved attempts at bettering his constitution for last. After the poor showings in his three lowest stats, he was honestly glad he''d done so. Reid could feel a kind of synergy there that aligned between the stat and his calcification skill. When he was confident he wouldn''t be upchucking any more salamander meat, he dove into himself. He focused on the ideas behind durability and toughness as he probed towards the area where his hardening skill resided. He figured it was the best way to get an idea of what he should be doing. As he neared the skill, Reid realized it had its own sense of shape and form that wasn''t static. It was like a ball of gas, with ripples constantly moving over the surface. Reid tried to push his way into the ball, but was rebuffed before he could even touch its edge. The feeling was the same as when Reid would hit the hill when he strengthened himself, and he decided to leave it be for now. Instead, he tried focusing directly on his skeleton. He realized as he directed his attention on his arm bones that there was unrepaired damage there. Unlike the glaring, painful break the salamander had given him, these were small, and some were only visible when he pushed into the internals of the bone. It reminded him of a TV episode he''d watched on metal frame repair. When the frame was subjected to a high level of force over time, or a short burst of force that was far more than it was intended to withstand, the metal would be stressed, and could develop weak points and fractures. Reid compared it to what he''d been doing. If his skeleton was his frame, then he''d been absolutely punishing it. Flinging large rocks like baseballs and punching through beast skulls were not something normal bones should''ve been capable of. He started repairing the damage, and was once again surprised by how quickly the bone seemed to grow compared to his muscles. He fused the fractures throughout his body in under an hour. Then, he focused on the actual structure of the bone. It wasn''t truly solid - not all the way through. Bone marrow filled a hollow center, ringed by compact and condensed intricate structures, interspersed by blood vessels and some other things he couldn¡¯t identify. At each end, there was a space far less condensed with its maze of structures. He willed new bone to grow inwards, towards the hollow center where his marrow sat. A new matrix of boney plates connected to one another in a simple, repeating pattern as Reid struggled to maintain his concentration. The pain and heat had been there while he repaired things, but forging new growth amplified them both considerably. By the time he''d finished the inner growth on a single bone, the pain was bad enough that Reid had to pause to rest and reduce his headache. The rest of his skeleton progressed the same way. He grew the simple matrix, pulled back and rested, then went in for another. Sometimes he ate something between rounds, and some times he forged ahead and ignored the hunger. When he was finished, he laid on his grass bed with a beaming smile as he reviewed his progress. Constitution: 6 -> 12 Health: 108/120 He hadn''t found the limit yet on what he could do with his skeleton, but already felt as solid as a tank. He could test more, experiment with different and more intricate ways to make his bones stronger. He would find the hill, that limit, and he would push all the way to it. For all of his stats. Reid rolled up into a sitting position and looked at the calcification skill again. He''d managed to use it easily to heal and grow bone - so why not try out everything it could do? It was time to make a bone weapon. CH 14: Clip Point Radius Bone weapons. When Reid thought about what a bone weapon should be, his mind ran away with ideas of barbarians holding bone clubs. But Reid was no barbarian, and while he had been using stones as projectiles to kill his foes, and he looked like a strongman - he wasn''t some meathead. Or maybe he could be, Reid thought. He could definitely see himself fitting the ''bone club barbarian'' mold. But a part of him had always imagined fanciful settings like the one he found himself in would have him fighting with a sword. That''s what he wanted. Reid wouldn''t be a brute - he''d be a knight. Reid worked his imagination on the weapon he wanted to create. It needed to be a long, sturdy, and sharp blade. He needed something that would be enough to withstand his strength, take down enemies with reach so he didn''t suffer injury, and - ideally - something that looked cool. He tried to will a bone blade into existence in his hand. His muscles shook and sweat with effort as he tried to focus and force the weapon to come into being. He kept at it for nearly an hour - cycling through different weapon ideas and different starting points to try to find something that worked. Nothing came from the attempts. A bit dejected, but undeterred, Reid decided to study his own bones. It was possible he was missing something fundamental about how the skill worked because he wasn''t familiar enough with how his bones actually grew. His senses pushed into his forearm and the image of two long bones appeared, connected to different points at his wrist. One was larger than the other, and that large one connected close to his wrist''s midpoint. Reid focused on that connection point, and dove in. His bone had a thick and mostly solid outer layer, and bits inside that were more like the spongey matrix he''d grown into the marrow. Spongey structure wouldn''t work for a bone weapon, as it might be too weak. A weapon also wouldn''t need open space for blood vessels or other bits to travel through, and he definitely didn''t need to make part of the weapon hollow to deal with the weight. So he needed - and could make - something solid. He focused on the outer layer, and willed the section to extend. At first, nothing happened. Reid concentrated and pushed harder until he felt something drain in his body. He opened his eyes just in time to see bone pierce up through the skin on his wrist. It extended rapidly, and grew out until it was nearly three feet long. His skin had stretched around it without splitting or cracking, so there wasn''t a single drop of blood on his arm. It wasn''t even particularly painful compared to everything else he''d been doing to himself lately. The growth was beautiful. A bone weapon. Not a club, but a sword. The tip had grown in first and was furthest away from his wrist. The bottom of the weapon was a round handle... that was still attached to his wrist. Reid paled. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn''t really thought about the process. He had just focused on the sensation of the weapon growth. But of course, if he grew a weapon of bone from his own bones, they had to be separated somehow. That was definitely something to keep in mind for any future use. Reid would prefer to separate the weapons from the bones he wanted to keep inside his body as part of the growth process. But that was something for the future. Right now, Reid was still stuck needing to actually separate his new sword from his forearm bone. He sucked in a breath, gripped the boney handle, and twisted. The pain bloomed in his wrist and blinded him for a moment, then the growth snapped off with a disconcerting ''pop''. In his right hand, Reid now held a fully realized weapon. The handle, a near perfect fit to the size of Reid''s hand, felt absolutely solid. The sharp side of the blade ran straight from the handle to mid-weapon, then curved in towards the tip. The other side looked like some wide-mouthed beast had taken a bite out of a straight line, leaving the upper part of the blade with an odd hooked look. A notification popped into view as he turned it in his hand. Calcification Weapon, Clip Point Radius created! Calcification weapon evolution paths unlocked. On Reid¡¯s left wrist, he felt his bone growth retreat back into his arm. Skin covered the area as if nothing had happened. It was good that he didn''t have to spend time fixing his skeleton and stitching the skin back together to use the skill. If his body repaired itself automatically for this skill, there was a chance he could find more automatic healing options for other skills. That would save him from his current, painful self healing methods. He filed the information away for later. Reid turned the sword over in his hand a few times, and decided he would test it by cutting into the salamander corpses. His knife was unable to penetrate into the salamander''s skull, so he was pleasantly surprised when his bone blade carved through the skull bones with little resistance. After that, it was still sharp enough to chop down grass. He''d been relying on blunt force to kill salamanders so far. This weapon was his way to deal blows with better reach than his fists, and could strike at the salamander''s brains to kill them while staying mostly safe from their claws. The new options the weapon offered him in those fights made Reid feel a hell of a lot better about his situation # Reid reluctantly stopped playing with his sword to finish up another project that had been sitting on his stone table - food storage. As convenient as pocket jerky was for snacking, Reid had to admit it was not a very good solution. There wasn''t enough room to store his current stockpile in just his pockets, and eating lint from his pockets had been really, really gross. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Instead, he would be carrying the jerky in a new, super convenient grass weave. Reid had attempted to make a woven grass bag, but quickly realized it was out of his skill range. Instead, he had settled on the idea of making a woven grass mat that he could then roll up like sushi with the jerky inside of it, which would then be secured with some strips of cloth from his shirt. He''d also made himself a strap so he could wear the grass roll on his shoulder instead of carrying it in one hand. The strap was also made from strips of Reid''s shirt, tied together and secured to the grass roll with a combination of knots and carefully re-used shirt buttons. The fit tests and adjustments were complete, so Reid worked on the final piece of his meat transport system - making sure nothing fell out from the sides of the roll. He stuck thin whittled bones into the rolled up grass like wheel spokes, and shook the whole thing. Nothing fell out. Reid was ready to travel once again. His first goal was to find running water. Then he''d push on towards the beacon. # He hiked for three hours before he found a water source. It was a brook that looked clear enough to drink. Reid washed himself off, drank as much as his belly would hold, and was just about to redress himself when he heard the telltale sounds of salamanders. Screeches and water drop pops echoed out from different directions all around him. Reid frantically shoved his briefs and pants back on, and quick-tied his boots. He shoved a few rocks from the river into his pants pocket and surveyed the area. The brook was at the bottom of a small valley, lazy inclines on each side had sparse tree cover that let in plenty of light. Downstream, the valley and brook curved and disappeared into thicker tree cover. Upstream, it was more open, and continued nearly straight for almost half a mile. Reid wanted the open field more than he wanted trees if he had to fight. The trees wouldn''t stop salamander claws, and the lack of clear line of sight would prevent Reid from using any thrown stones effectively. He didn''t like the idea of fighting on uneven ground too much, so he decided to stick on the flat near the water. He jogged upstream, flinching at every screech. And then he saw them. At the top of the left ridge, six salamanders stared down at him with their yellow slitted eyes. Their claws gleamed in the sunlight as they shifted, and waited. Another six were on the opposite ridge, with a single salamander in their center that was almost twice the height of the others. Its eyes glowed like orange embers, and where its brethren had opaque crystal claws, this one''s were distinctively a light shade of aquamarine blue. Its status as leader was confirmed when its screech sent the rest of the groups forward to attack. It alone remained behind, eyes still intently fixed on Reid. The groups descended, tails lifted high behind them to balance them as they ran. Reid scooped a handful of rocks out of his pocket and threw them at the larger group. Even as they whistled through the air, he dropped down to the brook and grabbed for more rocks. His hand scraped through the sand and muck, and he whipped the few rocks he''d snagged at the smaller advancing group. Bits of mud and debris spiraled off the rocks as they flew towards their targets. The first thrown handful impacted, tearing small holes into multiple creatures. One stumbled and rolled forward after a rock punched straight through one of its hind legs. Another was missing part of its lower jaw. The rest sported holes in their abdomens. Reid frowned at the lack of kills. The second group was a better outcome. His stones lanced through arms, shoulders, and heads. One cried out when its arm was torn off completely. The severed appendage spun off and hit the next creature in line, claws-first. The limb buried itself into that one''s neck, and it sputtered and slowed in response. Another salamander was dead on the ground, a trio of quarter-sized holes giving away where smaller stones had entered its skull and obliterated its brain. Reid didn''t have enough time for a third throw. The first of the left group was upon him, lunging forward with claw and tooth. He brought his bone sword down in a diagonal strike, and the force of the blow cleaved through a skull - and through brain. The notification confirmed the kill. He spun out of the way of another lunging creature and slashed at it as it passed. His strike bisected it through its midsection, and its lower half flopped motionlessly to the ground as its top half screeched and flailed. The next salamander reached him, and bit down hard on his left leg. Then another lunged at his arm. He dodged the one lunging, and thrust down with two blows at the salamander that was biting his leg. Blood geysered out of its head, coating his pants and part of his torso as the freshly minted corpse dropped to the ground. The right-side group had reached Reid, and the first of their number - the salamander missing one arm - sliced a deep cut open on Reid''s lower leg as it passed by. The cut was deep, and Reid could feel the crystal claws scrape against his bone. An angry, flailing sword strike took off its tail and one of its hind legs as it retreated. It was an emotional reaction, and left him open to the next attacks. A salamander bit down on his torso, and another grabbed his arm. The two attacks sent Reid stumbling, and he narrowly avoided a third lunging bite. Reid sliced through the arm-biter with his sword, then used his left hand to crush the head of the salamander still attached to his torso. He took a deep breath and surveyed himself. His left arm and left leg were sporting puncture wounds from bites, his abdomen was bleeding quite a bit from where he''d been chomped on there, and his right leg was growing weaker as blood flowed out of the claw wound and down to his boot. Seven salamanders were still alive - including the still-stationary leader watching from the ridge. Of the six smaller creatures, the bisected one was still writhing on the ground. The salamander now missing one leg, one arm, and its tail was similarly incapacitated for the moment. The one that had rolled down the hill and the one that had taken the neck would both seemed to have recovered and were charging from range. The last two were close enough to strike. They spread out to circle him, then attacked from opposite sides. Reid slashed one through the abdomen as the other chomped down on his neck. He screamed when it plunged claws into his back to hold itself in place. Reid raised his sword up and over himself like a back-scratcher and shook it like a whisk. It connected, and the neck biter fell away - though its claws were still lodged in Reid. He stomped down and crushed the skull of the one he''d sliced through the abdomen as he stood, then picked up its corpse. He cocked back and threw it at the two on approach. The body glanced off one and completely ensnared the other. It screeched as it tanged with the body, while the other flew forward. Reid lashed out when it was close enough, taking it straight through the skull with his sword. He walked over to the other, still disoriented on the ground, and crushed its skull with his boot. The sound echoed through the valley. Reid walked to the other wounded salamanders and ended them with a series of stomps, but his focus wasn''t on the wounded creatures or the kill notifications flashing into view. The final, large salamander was motionless at the top of the ridge, watching him with its glowing orange eyes as he executed its brethren. Reid stared back. CH 15: Boss Fight Reid reached a hand to his back and pulled the salamander claws embedded there out with a series of grunts. Warm blood flowed slowly down his back and onto his pants from the now-open wounds. He was also still bleeding from his leg, shoulder, abdomen, and arm. The broken corpses of eleven small salamanders dotted the flat space around him, their leaking blood gave the brook downstream a distinct tinge of color. On the ridge, the leader kept its eyes trained on Reid. It hadn''t moved when Reid stomped in the heads of the wounded salamanders, nor when he''d wiped some of the blood and gore off of himself and rinsed his hands in the brook. Reid felt himself growing weaker from the blood loss. He needed to finish things, or scare the beast away. He shouted up towards the beast. "Get down here and die like the rest, you ugly fucking lizard! I''ll tear your goddamn arms off!" He punctuated his taunt by throwing the handful of claws he''d removed from his back at the creature. They cut fast through the air with a whistle - and narrowly missed the large salamander as it sidestepped the projectiles. It looked at where the thrown claws had impacted a tree, then back to Reid before it let out a low-pitched screech. It walked down the hill at a diagonal, careful to keep its footing even as it continued to stare at Reid. This wasn''t good. He needed a fight he could end quickly, and the large salamander had shown too much patience and intelligence to rush in like the others. If Reid were facing a strong foe, and that foe was wounded and bleeding out, he would wait for it to be weaker before he tried attacking it. The salamander had done the same thing. Now, it was being too careful, too measured in its advance. If Reid couldn''t provoke it further, there was a chance it would just try to outlast him. Reid picked a nearby corpse and chopped off both arms in a fluid pair of cuts. He stabbed his sword into the corpse like it was a knife block, and picked up one arm in each hand. He threw the first just a bit to the left of the salamander, and quickly followed up with the second arm aimed where he thought the thing would dodge. He guessed right, and as the salamander sidestepped to avoid the first arm, the second slammed into it, knocking it off balance and tearing a small wound just above its lower legs. It screeched, and Reid drew his sword. The fight came to him. The salamander tore up grass and dirt as it ran, then started to lunge. Reid brought up his sword for an overhead strike - And missed when the beast spun to the side. It used its momentum to bring its tail to bear, and Reid was thrown back with the wind knocked out of him as the long appendage slammed into his chest. He landed in the brook, and cold water stung in the claw wounds on his back. He had only made it to his knees when the creature was on him again. It swung in at him with both claws coming from different directions, like the world''s most dangerous bear hug. Reid slashed out at one of its claws and tried to sidestep the other. Claws skittered against his sword, then the beast screeched as the blade slipped down and made contact with the flesh of its hand. The claws on the salamander''s other hand opened shallow cuts on Reid''s abdomen as it jumped back from his sword. It inspected itself, watching the separated skin flap away from its hand and wrist like a flag in the wind. It bit off the flap of skin, and ate it. Reid felt his stomach turn as he watched the salamander chew and swallow its own flesh. Reid charged in this time, sword held above his head. His advance seemed to surprise the beast, and he managed to cut it across the tail as it jumped out of the way. He pursued, sword out in front of him, and hacked away in the salamander''s direction. It blocked with claws, and tried to turn away to make distance, but Reid was relentless. He slashed into its back, a leg, and one of its arms as he pushed the creature back. Sword met claw, the creature jumped out of the way of some blows, and took others as it failed to counter Reid''s ferocious advance. He could feel his stamina fading, his right leg was still bleeding and threatened his footing with every step. He wanted to jump at the creature to get a better angle on its head, but putting that much weight on his leg would probably make him collapse. The salamander grew more frustrated after each exchange. It took more damage and tried even harder to hit Reid, but he still hadn''t gotten the right kind of opening to finish the fight. And then it happened. The salamander crouched down to spin into a tail slam, and Reid caught it in the head with his sword. His blade came down in a wide overhead arc and connected just behind its orange eyes. The impact drove its head towards the ground, split skin, and sent blood flying - but it didn''t penetrate further. Reid felt the skull under his blade crack slightly, but not enough to break through. The salamander was prone, dazed from the last blow, and Reid used the opportunity to follow up with a thrust down at its head. A loud crack echoed through the valley as bone and skull connected. The blow had further weakened the skull, but he still hadn''t managed to penetrate through the damn thing. Reid readied himself again, hands on top of each other as the gripped the sword and thrust it down. A claw shot out and into his leg as he slammed the blade down into the salamander''s head. His sword broke through the skull and sliced into the salamander''s brain - while the claw sliced through Reid''s fibula and dug into his tibia. The kill notification popped into view, but Reid ignored it. He''d won the boss fight against the group''s leader, but he was in bad shape. His vision was blurry, and he felt ready to topple over at any moment. The boss salamander''s claws scraped against his tibia as he disentangled himself from the beast. He cursed loudly at the pain, then cursed again as both legs gave out and he fell backwards to the ground. There was no time to think. He needed to triage his wounds. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Reid pulsed his senses through himself. The bite wounds were plentiful, but not too deep. If left alone, many of them might clot by themselves. The claw wounds on his back, right leg, and through part of his left leg were the worst of the lot. He started with the back injury. It had nicked one of his lungs, and could more easily get infected since he was laid down on his back. He coughed and sputtered a bit when the pain and heat regrew lung tissue, but largely ignored the rest of the discomfort. He chose to treat the right leg next. The cut was deep and bled quite a bit, but there was no broken bone to worry about there. He stitched together well enough that the bleeding stopped, and then moved on to the final severe injury. If he weren''t in such a rush, Reid probably would have dedicated some time to thinking about why his left side seemed to take so much more damage than his right. But his left leg was a mess, and he needed to work quickly. The wound was rough and mangled, and his fibula had been separated into multiple pieces where the claw went through it. He knit flesh and blood vessels together in small area bursts. Each burst slowly and painfully shifted a piece of fractured bone back towards the rest. It was only after he''d finished that Reid realized he had been screaming. He let himself keep going until his voice was raw, diving back in and forcing his body to repair itself all the while. Pain was a funny thing. Sometimes it would be sharp, and others it would be an aching sensation. Some pain was at the surface, other pain would be bone deep. It could be debilitating, or it could help keep you awake when you should''ve passed out long ago. Reid rode the wave of adrenaline that came with his body''s overwhelming pain. He didn''t stop to lessen his headache. He just pushed on, healing, then strengthening himself until he finally fell unconscious.
Marlene''s face was dark as she stared through binoculars into the valley. She''d been trailing the man since he grew a sword out of his arm back in the clearing. Louis and Oscar were close behind her, sharing nervous glances with one another. The sword had been the first oddity. The second was how he had casually snapped it free - she''d heard the bone pop. Nobody just broke a bone and carried on as if nothing had happened. Except that this man did. Investigating the clearing after he left confirmed that he''d spent some time there. There were still-dying fires, and multiple bodies. The salamander corpses matched up with the progress in her quest. She had assumed a group had to be responsible for the rapid kills, but they were instead the work of a single, dangerous man. His body language signaled that he wasn''t looking for nor expecting any other people to be around in the woods, so Marlene was quite confident he had been fighting on his own. That assumption was proven correct in a terrifying display of barbaric ferocity. He showed almost no understanding of basic tactics, his attacks and strikes were uncoordinated and ugly, but he decimated the attacking salamanders all the same. He took hits like he was made of iron, and hit back like a wrecking ball. When he used a single kick to cave in the salamander''s skulls, Oscar gasped audibly. She''d chastised him quiet, ignoring the fact that she''d been so engrossed in the fight that she forgot Oscar and Louis were watching things right behind her. They all gasped when the tall salamander had entered the fight. Marlene watched it closely, with one other eye on her quest. The quest to kill five salamanders had been completed when the first waves were killed, but the next quest - which was automatically assigned again - showed no progress.
Kill Salamanders level 4 or higher (5/5) completed! Bonus xp awarded for high performance. Difficulty automatically increased based on performance. **New Quest Assigned** Kill salamanders level 10 or higher (0/3) (47:53:59) **WARNING!** Two-day timer automatically applied to quest. If the quest is not completed within the allotted timeframe, a beacon defense quest will automatically begin.
The level requirement was high enough that the beasts would likely be difficult to find, which was bad for their chances at completing the quest in 48 hours. Worse, the warning had changed from saying a defense quest would be assigned to saying that the defense quest would automatically begin. If they failed, Sanctuary would be attacked as soon as the timer was done. When the big lizard finally went down, she got her confirmation. Kill salamanders level 10 or higher (1/3) (47:40:22) "Fuck." She muttered, drawing inquisitive looks from her two followers. She shook her head. "Sorry, it looks like we have to kill a few of the big ones to complete our next quest." Both men gave meaningful glances out to the valley, then nodded. They''d all focused back on the man when he started screaming and writhing on the ground. Marlene nearly dropped her binoculars. Oscar made a sign of the cross and muttered something unintelligible. Louis was very pointedly breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth to keep himself calm. The rampaging barbarian had suffered serious injuries in the final fight against the big salamander, including something that looked like a broken leg. Those wounds visibly healed as if Susan were using her skill, stitching back together skin and bone. Except he appeared to be doing it himself. And it looked like it was very, very painful. A lone man in the woods. Marlene wished she''d paid more attention when Sara had shown her the photo of Reid. If it was the girl''s father, they could have a powerful ally. If it was anyone else, they had an unknown element to deal with. Even with Identify''s upgrades, she had to be within 10 feet of a person to be able to see their information. She would need to wait until the man was asleep to get her answers. Screams echoed out in the valley for another six hours before things finally fell silent and the man stopped writhing on the ground. Oscar made another sign of the cross as they all neared the now-snoring man. Each one of them had weapons drawn. Marlene''s pistol was pointed at the man''s head. When he was finally in range, she used her skill. Identify Successful!
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Race: Human Grade: G Level: 7 Health: 94 / 150 STATS: Constitution: 15 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 19 SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare]
"Holy hell." CH 16: Information Marlene slapped Reid across the face as hard as she could. When that didn''t get a reaction, she poured half her canteen of water over his head. He sputtered a bit, then went back to snoring. She looked at her watch. Reid had been asleep for almost 12 hours now, and the man simply wouldn''t wake up. Even when she, Oscar, and Louis had dragged Reid out of the valley and up into a tree for safety, he just kept snoring. She''d used identify again on him a few times while he slumbered, and his health pool had rapidly replenished for the first few hours, then trailed off to a slow uptick since then. Marlene groaned, and turned to her hunting party. "We can''t sit around and wait any more. We''re dragging him." They all stood, Louis checked the ropes that secured Reid to their improvised travois. The travois was a simple thing, just two long, thick branches in an "A" shape, where the crossbar was used as a sort of stretcher. Reid was tied to it - both to keep him from bouncing off, and to restrain him for whenever he decided to wake up. Normally, a travois would have been pulled by a dog, or a horse. Today, it was being pulled by Louis. Oscar would be scouting ahead, and Marlene would be staying behind Louis so she could guard their rear - and keep an eye on Reid. Each member of her team were armed with newly crafted weapons, thanks to the high-level salamander. Its aquamarine claws were secured to the end of improvised spears with rope and tape. The opaque claws of the lower leveled salamanders could cut through low leveled salamander skulls, but they couldn''t penetrate through the high leveled salamander bone. Similarly, the high-leveled salamander claws were capable of splitting through the higher leveled salamander skull. If they encountered any more level 10 salamanders, her team would need the new weapons to fight them. And she wanted to encounter more level 10s. Marlene''s quest timer didn''t care that Reid was asleep, and they''d already lost too much time, in her opinion. Her options were simple. Either hope they would find more of the high leveled beasts to kill, or head back for Sanctuary and prepare a defense. She chose the latter option, and they moved back towards the campground. # After another four hours trudging through the woods, their sleeping beauty finally stirred. They didn''t have much time to waste, but Marlene would get to the truth. The truth behind how Reid was separated from the rest of the awakened, how he managed to survive, and how his stats were higher than they should be. Only then would she let her guard down around the man. Marlene had Louis lean the travois against a tree, then untie Reid''s bonds and shift him to the ground. Marlene placed a canteen up against Reid''s leg, then crouched down next to him and put on a warm smile. One of her hands rested on his boot, while the other was behind her back holding the grip of her pistol. He was her friend''s husband and Sara''s father, but there was no telling whether he would be a problem. She tried to sound calm and friendly. "Hey, you. You''re finally awake."
Reid groaned. His entire body felt sore, and hunger stabbed at his stomach. His eyes still felt heavy, and his head lolled from side to side. Wait - lolled? Reid was laying on the ground when he passed out. What the hell was going on? He forced his bleary eyes open and tried to blink away his sleep. He was moving, there were people around him. And - he was tied to some sort of sled. His elbow shifted uncomfortably when the sled thing was lifted up and leaned against a tree, and then he found himself placed on the ground. A woman was staring at him. She looked familiar. She was wearing a warm, but somewhat uncomfortable smile. "Hey, you. You''re finally awake." Reid''s mind was still waking up. "Yup, I was trying to cross the border. Walked right into the ambush." The woman''s smile faltered for a moment, and Reid took the opportunity to speak before she could. "Just a joke - a reference. I figured you knew it because of what you sa-." He scanned her face as he spoke, and words spilled out of his mouth faster and faster as realization dawned on him. "Oh! You''re the outhouse water lady... uh, Melanie! You were next to us when it happened! Please - the women with me were my wife and my daughter. Please tell me you''ve seen them." The woman let out a chuckle that didn''t reach her eyes. "Close, but my name is Marlene. Sara and Susan are both fine. They''re waiting at a campground where the beacon appeared. Susan is working for me healing people, and Sara is helping out there, too. They''re both safe, healthy, and doing well." Reid felt tension he''d been carrying start to melt. They were safe at the sanctuary. He let out a long, shuddering sigh. Everyone politely gave him some space when the sigh turned into a soft sob. When he''d collected himself, Reid got out a few ''thank you''s amid a host of iterations of the same question. Yes, Sara and Susan were actually at Sanctuary. Yes, they had enough to eat. Yes, they had beds to sleep in. No, they hadn''t suffered injuries. It took minutes for Reid to realize he was monopolizing the conversation. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. "Sorry for all the questions, Marlene. It''s just - I''ve spent the last few days only thinking about whether they were okay. Thank you, again, for taking care of them." Marlene gave a genuine smile. "Sara is a good kid. And your wife is a hard worker. I''m lucky they''re around. But now that I''ve answered your questions about them, I need you to answer some questions for me. Let''s start with how you ended up out here." Reid recounted his last few days in as much detail as he could manage. Marlene gave him questioning looks a few times, but just insisted he keep going. When he reached the end, she finally spoke up. "When do you think the shackle is going to wake back up this time?" Reid thought for a moment. "It should have woken up already. I''m not really sure why it''s not back. Maybe whatever it did to me made it... die. If it can do that." "Okay. Tell me more about your stats. You get five points per level but you don''t decide where they go, right?" Reid nodded his head. "Right. That''s the thing the system shackle guy broke, so instead of getting to pick one of the six stats, everything goes into control. I started off with a few points in control and a few points in power, but only 1 or 2 points in the rest. Then, I started to figure out how to increase my stats without the points - and I figured out that it has a hard limit where my other stats can''t be more than half of what control is. Can''t go past that. I''ve figured out power, started to figure out constitution, but I haven''t gotten the others to work yet." "And you used that same kind of power to heal yourself?" Reid nodded. "Yeah. It''s painful but it works. I''m sure I''m not the only one that''s figured that out yet, though." Marlene slid both hands down her face and stood. "Reid, no one else has even come close to doing what you just told me about. I sure as hell can''t see inside my own body. And I damn well can''t heal a bone. Nobody else even has the control stat you''re talking about, and I can''t see it with my skill. Improving stats without points is impossible. And we only get three points per level. The only differences between them and you is they all awakened at the beacon, and you haven''t. There''s got to be something more there. And if you started with stats that weren''t all 1''s, there''s another difference between you and literally everyone else. Outlier is a good term for you." She paced back and and forth, and her boots crunched the leaves in her path down into to tiny bits of debris. "Reid, I didn''t come into this forest to find you. Finding you is great, really - for Sara, and for Sanctuary. You didn''t tell me anything about quests, so I assume you haven''t gotten one. They''re objectives we can complete, before the tutorial starts, and it will give us a better chance of coming out on top of whatever competition happens there." Reid blinked. "There''s a tutorial?" The leaf-crunching stopped as Marlene finally came to a halt. "Right. When you touch the beacon, you agree to a sort of contract thing to fully awaken yourself. It let the rest of us see our stats, distribute points, and use our skills," she paused, "but maybe we didn''t need a contract for that. Anyway, it also tied us to the beacon, Sanctuary, and gave us a timer and a description of a tutorial. The tutorial is supposed to be where people raise up their level quickly, through a series of different challenges. It does have different beacons competing with one another, and says a bit about power being necessary for after the tutorial ends." She looked directly at Reid. "That means people fighting people. We have no idea if we''re a small camp or a large one. We don''t know if we''re powerful or not. I''ve seen what happens when people fight for power, and I damn well intend to be on the winning side here. So I accepted quests to help us level before the tutorial starts. We need the advantage." Reid was nodding along while his stomach did cartwheels at the thought of Sara having to fight another person. "The quests started as simple ones where we just had to kill beasts, then larger groups of beasts. Recently, it''s been all about salamanders. Your kills counted for our quest, and it raised the quest difficulty. We have... a little over 25 hours to kill two more of the level tens or we fail the quest." She gave him an asking look. No. Reid thought. I''ve spent days fighting, hiking, and starving all to get back to my family. No, I''m not going to wait a second more than I have to before I see them again. Figure out your own quest, and you''re welcome for the quest progress I already gave you. I''ll find my own way, thanks. I''ll eat a hot meal, take a shower, and sleep in an actual bed while you chase extra xp. His mouth betrayed him. "What happens if you fail the quest?" Marlene''s face was steel. "When the time limit ends, salamanders will attack Sanctuary. Immediately." Reid''s mind toured a series of vivid nightmare scenarios about salamanders eating his family before he started hearing Marlene''s words again. "... and we lost two people to it. So, Reid, you are our best chance. You''re more than double my level, and I''m the highest leveled person in our camp. You have the most skill points out of all of us, and you already showed yourself capable of bringing down the big ones. If we can keep the fight here, we save lives. I know you''re not really one of my people yet, but will you fight for me? For Sara and Susan?" Reid''s decision was easy. He could keep his family safe by fighting more beasts. The same ones that had already torn him open, stabbed him, broken his legs and arms. "I need a minute to think." He put his head in his hands and stared down at his boots. Chunks of the soles were torn, and dried blood stained almost every surface. His shoelaces were starting to fray - fuzzy threads arced up where they were nicked, and one lace came apart at the end where he''d lost an aglet. The seams strained under the increased size of his legs and feet, and a small cut on the outside of his right boot threatened to expose a bloody sock to the elements. They were still usable, of course. He could walk in them, fight in them if he needed to. But they were worn. Tired. Fraying and coming apart at the seams from holding things too big for them to bear. What shape would they be in after another fight? After two? Just how much longer could they hold together? The crinkle of food packaging caught Reid''s attention. A skinny boy, only a few years older than Sara held out a granola bar. He had black curly hair and a plain face with kind eyes. A claw-tipped spear was strapped to his back, and one hand was wrapped with a bandage. "Here. You''ve been sitting for a while, you should eat." Reid gave a nod and thank you as he tore into the bar with greed. Oh god it was delicious. It had flavors. Real flavors! His jerky sucked. It sucked so, so bad and real food was so, so good. "My name''s Louis" The boy continued, watching Reid devour the bar like a starving animal. "Do you- An all-too-familiar screech sounded out from the woods, followed by two more in different directions. The outline of a large salamander was just visible in the distance. Reid didn''t have a choice to make anymore. The fight had come to him. CH 17: Good Boots
~ Marlene ~ Marlene took a sip of water and gave Oscar an appraising look. She hadn''t expected the man to give her so much grief about... well anything, really. Reid had been staring at the ground for 15 minutes now. She needed an answer, and needed it soon. Oscar had actually stopped her from walking over, and sent Louis over with a granola bar in her place. His standing up to her was so surprising that she actually stopped and listened to him. But she was getting over it. "Marlene, I know that look. He''s breaking - and he might not break if you just give him a few extra minutes." "He''s got more in him. I''ve been doing this for a long time, Oscar. I know how far to push people." She started to turn to walk back towards Reid. "What''s gonna happen when he shuts down in the middle of a fight? Huh? He dies, maybe one of us, too. But that''s fine if you finish your mission, right?" Marlene made a mental note as she wheeled around on him. "You are out. Of. Line. We do not have any more time for sympathy, Oscar. None of us have the luxury of dealing with things right now. You think things are hard? They''re going to get worse. All of this," She waved an arm at the forest, "is just a ramp to more violence. More danger. More death. You think you know it because you''ve splashed in the kiddie pool? This is deep water. People are going to swim, or they''re going to sink. I know what swimmers look like, Oscar. You are one, and Reid is too. Now, this -" she pointed between herself and Oscar, "is done. Over. You fucking stow it and do your job." She''d assumed too much of Oscar, she realized. He had grit and some military experience, sure - but he was still young. He still assumed his experiences made him an expert. She hoped he would live long enough to experience the humility of knowing how wrong he was. Dark days would be waiting for them all. She needed as many people as possible that could make it through. Reid would be one of them. She could feel it in her bones. Sure, he was an idiot. He''d spilled a long series of secrets and insane stories as soon as she asked him to. But he was an honest idiot, and she could work with that. More, anyone that had survived what he did was already doing better than the average person. If she could just mold him a little, he would make for a perfect addition to her forces. Having Sara and Susan with them would give him motivation to stay fighting, and she''d already worked herself up in their discussion so he would see her as his family''s savior. She just needed to give him the right sorts of pushes so he didn''t actually go off the deep end. There was a brutality in the way he fought that hinted at a bit of mindless rage. As long as she could guide him away from that, he could be perfect. She was on her way back to Reid when the screeches began.
+ Reid + Reid grabbed his sword off the sled and jumped to his feet before Louis had gotten the spear off his back. He looked towards the one outline he could see through the trees. It was one of the large salamanders, and it was walking their way. Leaves crunched nearby, signaling the return of Marlene and Oscar. They both had spears drawn. Marlene surveyed the area, then barked out orders. "I see three beasts. Louis and Oscar, stay here and defend if any of them reach you. I''ll take the one to the south. Reid - I need you to handle the close one to the East." Louis and Oscar called out that they understood. Reid nodded. "Reid?!" "Uh, yeah!" He yelled, realizing that she hadn''t been looking at him. He wasn''t used to communicating like this, and felt very out of his element with a group of fellow combatants around him. He gave a glance down at his boots. One more fight. He thought. Just hold together. The salamander stopped and rested a hand on a tree. The aquamarine claws easily sank into the wood. Orange eyes stared at him. Waiting wasn''t going to do any good, so Reid advanced. He jogged out to meet the creature, sparing looks to his left and right as he went to ensure he didn''t get surrounded by some unseen enemy. When he was twenty feet from the salamander, it let out a shriek and flicked its claw through the tree. Splinters of wood sailed through the air like buckshot and peppered Reid''s arms when he raised them to block. Then the salamander was on him. It used the opening attack as a distraction to close the distance, and swiped down at him. Reid managed to get his sword up just in time to block - and winced when he saw a small chip where the claws connected. The salamander''s free arm came around from the side, and Reid had to dodge back to avoid taking a hit. The salamander followed, lunging forward with its jaws open. The thing''s neck was long enough to reach him, and fast enough to hit. Off balance, Reid swung his left arm in an ugly uppercut as jaws closed in. His bare fist tore through the salamander''s chin, and a nauseating amount of drool coated his hand before it reached the top of its mouth. His momentum carried, and he smashed through its skull near one of its nostrils. The beast tried to rear back, but Reid opened his fist and grabbed the top of its skull with his fingers. It screeched, bumping its chin into the inside of Reid''s elbow. Reid could see clear down its throat. Reid rotated his sword and took off one of its arms before the claws could reach him. The other stabbed into the side of his chest. Pain burned, and he felt fluid entering one of his lungs. The beast tore at him, shaking its arm as claw split flesh and scraped against his ribs. He ignored the pain and the claws. He didn''t need to take that arm - he was already controlling its head. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. His sword slammed up into the salamander, releasing a small torrent of blood as he cut through the back of its tongue, and into its brain. Once he felt resistance, he swept his blade sideways. The salamander flopped limp in his grip. One down. He carefully removed the claws from his side - man, getting stabbed in your upper ribs really fucking hurt - and then let go of its head. Shouting reached him. He turned, and saw one of the other salamanders barreling towards him. Maybe that screech from the dead salamander had been a cry for help. He dismissed a kill notification and flexed his wrist. The salamander bounced off a tree it was running too fast to avoid. It seemed angry. Eager. Reid readied himself. Come on. I''ve got more than enough left for you.
~ Marlene ~ Marlene watched her Salamander. It was slowly advancing, keeping her in its line of sight. She gripped her claw-spear in both hands and tried to predict the salamander''s range. Oscar and Louis were also getting ready. Any moment now, the salamanders would start their attack and rush in. She hoped they would come out on top. A screech and a yell erupted through the trees from Reid''s direction. She heard rustling, and turned to see the salamander that had been sizing up Oscar and Louis was running towards Reid. Her target froze, eyeing the same direction. Ding! Kill salamanders level 10 or higher (2/3)... Holy hell. They''d barely started and Reid already took one of the things down. She looked in his direction. Even at a distance, she could see a hole through the dead salamander''s head. Reid''s arm was dripping with gore. As the salamander neared him, Louis shouted out a warning. He sidestepped a lunge and kicked the thing into a tree. She heard bones break. "Oscar and Louis - on me. Reid has that fight." Their salamander noticed the trio advancing, and dug a set of claws into a tree before tearing it out. Shards of wood and bark flew, slamming into each of them. Louis had a hand over a shoulder wound, and Oscar was clutching his leg. Marlene had taken a fragment to the ear, and was now missing most of her thin earlobe from the damaging shot. She ran forward - keen to engage the creature rather than letting it get off another ranged attack. Louis charged in behind her. Oscar limped forward at his own speed. Her first thrust was at its abdomen, but it dodged out of the way and curled itself in on her weapon. It snapped between the salamander''s jaws. Marlene dropped the remains of her spear and pulled her pistol from its holster. Louis managed a stab into the salamander''s arm. The creature screeched and reared back, throwing Louis to the ground as he tried to keep his weapon held. Marlene leveled her arms and fired three rounds at the salamander''s head. The first and second both bounced off of the salamander''s skull. The third was low - she''d overcorrected her aim. It punched a hole through the side of the salamander''s neck that flowed freely with blood. Oscar was there a moment later, driving his spear into one of its rear legs. The salamander let out a pained roar and spun. Its tail split the air and took Oscar in the arm. It snapped with a sickening crunch, and the impact sent him spiraling through the air until he slammed into a tree. His limp body hit the ground and splayed out on the forest floor, leaking blood. The salamander tore the spear free from its leg, then bit through the one on its arm. One man down, possibly dead. The other wounded. This was insane. The difficulty ramp she''d been expecting was instead a sheer wall that they''d run straight into. She fired another round at the salamander to grab its attention, backing away as she did. She needed it away from Oscar and Louis. She let off more rounds, this time aiming for its legs. If it was too hard to outright kill, she could at least slow it down. The salamander staggered as the shots impacted, spraying the forest floor with bits of blood and tissue. But it didn''t stop. It advanced through the gunfire. Marlene pulled the trigger three times on an empty magazine before she realized she needed to reload. Fear gripped her. She hadn''t let fear get the better of her in over a decade. She grabbed her second magazine and slammed it into place as the enemy closed in. Light reflected off its claws. She raised her weapon and fired into its groin. The beast shrieked and flailed out with both arms as it fell forward - towards her. The blow came quickly. A flailing, unintentional thing. She was hit in the face with the top of the creature''s hand. The back and point of two claws slid against her cheek and over her forehead, leaving lines of hot pain, and blood that tinged her vision. Marlene felt her leg snap as she impacted a tree, and shuddered in pain when her body hit the ground. Her vision swam, distorting the notifications popped up in front of her. Kill Salamanders level 10 or higher (3/3) completed! Bonus xp awarded for high performance. Difficulty automatically increased based on performance. **New Quest Assigned** Defeat the Crimson Titan (0/1) (47:59:58) **WARNING!** Two-day timer automatically applied to quest. If the quest is not completed within the allotted timeframe, a beacon defense quest will automatically begin. Reid roared into view as Marlene''s vision waned. She was dizzy, and fought to stay conscious. She watched him body slam the salamander into a tree. He stabbed it through the gut, then headbutted the thing. The beast had nearly wiped out her team, and Reid was dominating it with ease. He kept yelling as he ripped both arms off with his bare hands, and pummeled the salamander''s torso with a flurry of blows. It might have been the blood, but she could''ve sworn Reid''s eyes were burning red.
+ Reid + Reid finished the second salamander worse for wear. His legs had multiple stab wounds, and his chest was raked with a series of bright red gashes. He was panting and exhausted when he saw the outcome of the other''s fight with the third salamander. The first people he''d seen in days were wounded and broken on the ground. The woman who had kept his family safe had blood flowing freely from a nasty head wound. And the salamander was going in for the kill. The anger had been bubbling in him. Simmering since he was able to rise above its waves. He had held himself in control - finished multiple fights without drawing on that well. But his body was hurting, and the power was there. Reid let the rage boil and froth, and threw himself into the tide. # When he regained his senses, Reid was standing in front of half a salamander pinned to a tree. It wiggled a pair of mostly-regrown arms at him. His body was wrecked and tired, and he saw his knuckle bones peeking through torn skin on his hands. But he''d made it in time to keep the others alive. Oscar was still prone, and Louis was wrapping gauze around Marlene''s head. Reid pulled his sword from the tree and let the salamander flop to the ground. It started to crawl towards Marlene, and Louis looked up at it for a moment before he focused back on tending her wounds. Reid lifted a leg, and slammed his boot down on the salamander''s head. Bone crunched, but it kept moving. He brought a foot down again, this time rewarded with a wet squelch. The salamander had stopped, but it was still twitching. The third stomp cracked the skull wide open and sent gore out in a small circle. Reid smiled, then stumbled back into the nearest tree and slid down the bark. He looked at his boots. Both boots were covered in a new layer of of blood. An eyelet ring had popped itself loose, but was still dangling off his shoelace. A shard of skull poked out the side of one sole. They were worn, and tired. But they held. CH 18: Okay Reid yawned and stretched, then winced. He''d collapsed from exhaustion without healing himself. His body and head ached, and all he had to show for it was three dead salamanders. He stumbled to his feet, thankful for the clean bandages that had been wrapped around his wounds. Some stung - probably a lingering effect of an antibacterial cream - but it was manageable. He used his sword as a walking stick and made his way over to where Louis was sitting. The boy had his back to Reid, and turned as he spoke. "Louis - thanks for patching me up! How''s everyone else doing?" His eyes were wet. Lines ran down his cheeks where tears had carried away dirt and dust. His shirt was stained where the dirty tears had landed. He was holding Oscar''s head in his lap. The man''s limbs were twisted and broken. His face was pale. His chest was still. Reid focused on Oscar''s blackened, broken arm and he was overwhelmed with the memory of his own recent brush with death. How close had he come to being a cold body in the woods? He pushed the thought aside and knelt down next to Louis. This was out of his depth. Reid was always bad with somber events. He hated funerals, and grief. The only time he''d ever handled death right was helping Sara through the loss of a hamster. He looked around. Marlene would be better at this, right? She seemed like the kind of person that woul- "Marlene''s unconscious. She has been since she took that blow to the head. But she''s alive. Lucky. She was lucky." The boy''s words came in a distant, robotic tone. "You were lucky, too. They didn''t cut you too deep, even where they hit you." He stared down at the lifeless man in his lap. "I had a dog named Ollie. When I was little, I mean. He stayed with me all the time. Would bark at my dad to keep him out of my room at night. He was a good dog. He''d follow me to school sometimes. That''s how he got hit by the car." Reid listened as the boy rambled on. "I carried him home. Told my mom he needed help. He was still licking my arm, even though he couldn''t move his legs. He kept licking me until he was gone. That''s when I decided to be a vet, you know. To save dogs." Louis was stroking the side of Oscar''s face. "I couldn''t save Oscar. I tried. But maybe I could have, you know? If I went to med school instead." Silence hung in the air between them. Reid knelt down and grabbed Louis by the shoulder to get his attention. He said the only thing that came to mind. "Let''s let Oscar rest for a while." Louis took a few moments to process the words before he nodded. He pulled a piece of fabric out of a nearby backpack, and placed it between Oscar''s head and the ground. He looked at the man for another long moment before walking over to a tree by Marlene. He slumped down on it and stared into the woods. Reid didn''t know how to console him - what to say, or what to do. Death had never been so immediate for him. So real. He walked over to Louis anyway, and sat himself against a tree so that he faced the boy. He considered the situation. Oscar was gone. He hadn''t even learned the man''s last name. Reid met him, and soon after he had just... died. They would need to bring his body back to Sanctuary. Maybe wrap it in something. Louis was half catatonic and Marlene was out cold. There was a good chance she may not be awake or mobile for a long while. Her bandages were soaked through with blood, and her skin had a bit less color than before. That meant he wouldn''t be getting any updates about their current quest anytime soon. Reid had killed three salamanders, all above level 10. So her quest to take down three of them would''ve finished partway through the recent fight. It also meant a new quest had probably been auto-assigned. With no idea what the objective was, their only real option would be going to Sanctuary. They could help defend it from attack if they needed. Or at least Reid could. He surveyed the dead and broken people around him. Maybe he couldn''t defend anything. Reid was one man, and in a fight against three beasts he couldn''t even protect three people. He couldn''t control the flow of battle - he could only hit the thing in front of him until it stayed down. But that was better than nothing, right? Monsters would attack the settlement. It would happen whether Reid made it to Sanctuary or not - and Sara and Susan would both be in danger. Even if he couldn''t protect everyone, what did that matter? He only really needed to make sure the two of them were safe. Anything else would be a bonus, right? Surely, with more people fighting, a battle would be easier and more would live. And - he would see his family again. If he was lucky, he''d get there quickly enough to spend a day with them before Sanctuary was attacked. Maybe he''d even have time to get answers on whether his cancer was still waiting in the wings to end him... or maybe it would be better to put that one off for another day. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Reid shook his head. Right this moment, he was a mess. If he wanted to be of any use to anyone, he needed to heal himself. Then, he could carry Marlene and Oscar to Sanctuary. Hopefully, Louis would be okay to walk. He leveled his gaze at Louis. "Hey, bud. I have to fix myself up a bit. Once I''m done, we''re going to Sanctuary. Can you wake me up if anything happens?" Louis nodded. His eyes hadn''t moved. Reid wanted to say something else to him. A dozen comforting lines flashed through his mind, but none seemed right. He closed his eyes instead, and focused in on healing. # The sun was high overhead when he woke up again. His wounds were gone, and for the first time in a while, he hadn''t found any room to further increase his stats. A glance at his status told him he would need another 1200 experience points before he would gain another level. But that was fine - he could already kill the high leveled salamanders. It wasn''t like anything stronger than that would be thrown at a pre-tutorial settlement. A series of grunts from nearby caught Reid''s attention. Louis was cinching a cloth bag to the same wooden sled they''d used to transport him earlier. A single zipper ran down its length. Marlene was a few feet away, her breathing rhythmic, but a bit faint. Reid wasn''t expecting to see Louis up and about, much less getting things ready for transport. He tentatively approached. "Hey, Louis - need a hand?" The boy turned to him. His face still showed pain, but he was lucid. He gave a halfhearted smile and shook his head. "Not right now. I''m adding another crossbar to this thing so we can put Marlene on, too. I might need your help getting her on it - and pulling it. It''ll be a bit heavy for me, I think." Reid cocked his head a bit. Louis seemed entirely different. "You sure that you''re - ah, okay? You can rest a bit and I can take over." Louis stopped what he was doing and smiled again. It didn''t reach his eyes. "Look, I''m sorry about earlier. I wasn''t doing okay. Can we just... not talk about that?" "Sure," Reid said eagerly, "Whatever you want, bud." # It took another hour to get the sled - or travois, as Louis called it - finished and loaded. It carried Oscar''s body, everyone''s backpacks, the remains of their weapons, Reid''s sword, and Marlene - who was still unconscious. They hiked for nearly three hours. Reid pulled the sled, and Louis kept lookout. The pair chatted intermittently about trivial things - the weather, where they were from, whether or not Sanctuary had working showers. Long silences stretched between each lukewarm conversation. Feet crunched over leaves, wind blew through the trees, and tools and supplies rattled behind Reid on the sled. It was in one of those long silences that Louis leapt straight into the topic he''d wanted to avoid. "I''m not - over it, you know? I mean, everything. Oscar. I''m not just... better." Reid turned a few responses in his head before he answered. "I know. But I''m glad you''re doing better than you were." Leaves crunched under their feet. "I don''t think I am, though. I didn''t really get through anything, Reid. It''s still all just... there. But..." He paused. Reid counted out twenty-three footsteps before Louis continued. "A while after you fell asleep, I got hungry. My pack was only a few steps away, but I didn''t want to get up. My skill - it''s called Ease Affliction. I figured it would make me less hungry, so I just used that so I didn''t have to move. And it worked for the hunger, right? Like, I know I''ll have to eat eventually, but I don''t feel hungry anymore. And it did that to what I was feeling, too. It was like everything got shoved into a corner of my brain and locked up there. Like there''s this weight, this darkness just waiting to be let back out. And I''ll still have to deal with it. And I don''t know what that''s going to do to me. I feel... okay right now. But I''m not okay about feeling okay." Reid counted out another twenty five footsteps before answering. "I think I know that feeling, Louis." The boy stopped walking to look at Reid. "I''m dying, Louis. Or at least I think I still am. I''m not really sure what''s going on with me now. I might get answers when we get to Sanctuary, and I might not. But I''m not even sure if I want answers right now. I don''t want to deal with it, even though it''s literally right there, in my brain. I''d rather just focus on getting to your camp, and seeing my wife and my daughter. And I think that''s okay for right now - I could spend every moment between now and then worrying about it, but I don''t have to. Instead, I can just keep moving forward until I''m ready, or until it doesn''t give me any other choice. But even if that happens, and everything just rushes out from where I''ve got it contained, I''ll do what I can to keep ignoring it until I''m ready. I''ll keep choosing to feel okay, even though things aren''t okay." Louis''s mouth twitched a few times before he spoke. "I don''t think that''s healthy." Reid shrugged, shifting the sled still slung over his shoulders. "I don''t think it matters. Doing the healthy thing - or the right thing - it really is a luxury. Sometimes, you just can''t afford luxuries, Louis." More thoughts flitted through Reid''s mind. He looked down at his boots. "Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward on shaky ground." Louis wore a contemplative expression, and eventually turned to keep hiking. Reid almost missed the "thanks" he whispered as he stomped ahead. # The next hours were a better experience. They hiked on, Reid shared stories about Sara and Susan - and more than a few disparaging tales about himself as he tried to keep Louis''s mind off the darkness gnawing at him. "...and the next time it rained... bubbles everywhere. They were three feet high in some spots, I swear. You couldn''t get into the school without walking through them. Ahhh, but yeah, that''s why they banned powdered detergents." Louis was swiveling his head from side to side. He hadn''t laughed at this story - which was odd, because he''d been a really good sport about pretending to be amused by the rest. He turned to Reid, a grin split his face and for the first time that day, he seemed like he was actually happy. "I recognize where we are. I think once we get to the top of this hill, we''ll be able to see Sanctuary through the trees. We''re almost there, Reid!" He ran hard up the incline, panting by the time he reached the top. When Reid caught up to him, he was silently staring ahead. In the distance, Reid could just make out the figures of humans and beasts. They fought against a backdrop of dancing light and billowing smoke. Sanctuary was on fire. CH 19: Sanctuary
. James . Wooden walls crackled and popped as screams and smoke filled the air. James lifted a wooden spear and hurled it forward at an approaching salamander. It sunk partway into the beast and dropped to the ground, wedging itself and keeping the beast from advancing further towards them. It only lasted a minute before the spear snapped and the salamander pressed forward. He bit his tongue trying to shout while running, swallowed blood and raised his voice again. ¡°They¡¯re only past the outer battlements! Regroup at the inner structures! Don¡¯t let them get farther in! Shelter the others!¡± The small band of defenders gave assenting shouts as they moved. James had worked Mark ragged to ensure the walls and fortifications were as robust as possible. They were now the makings of a true fortress - or they would have been if the walls weren''t on fire. He''d allowed one of the teenagers to join the defense team for the last few waves. The boy had preened when he learned he was the only one in their group capable of casting the fireball skill, and had practiced his aim diligently. James still wanted to keep him out of the fight, but he needed as many bodies as he could muster to keep the growing, bi-hourly waves of salamanders at bay. The first wave had only been one of the vicious beasts. An hour later, they were attacked by two - then another hour after they defeated the two, there were three, and so on. This time, a full eight salamanders had advanced on their position. The teen, in all his eager stupidity, imagined himself to be some sort of lone hero. He''d fought multiple waves from atop the wall - and had helped push things in the defender''s favor with his skill. This time though, he had jumped down from the front walls to take the fight to the advancing salamanders. But he wasn''t prepared to fight anything on equal ground. His fireballs connected with a series of flashes and small explosions - but they didn''t kill anything. One salamander lost its lower legs to a pair of well placed fireballs, but he rest advanced undeterred even with charred skin coating large sections of their bodies. The boy ran for safety. Despite the wall defender''s desperate attempts to slow the wave, the salamanders quickly caught up to the fleeing boy - and set into him with tooth and claw. In his dying throes, he''d frantically shot fireballs in every direction to try and stop the beasts. Errant fireballs had started a raging fire on the walls, and sent the rest of the defenders into a panic. They jumped to the ground for safety, and most jumped in the right direction. A few, in the confusion and frenzy, had gotten turned around and leapt down towards the salamanders. James could still hear some of them screaming. The things were incredibly hard to kill. They had to drive blows through the eyes or manage to get at their skulls from underneath to actually put down the creatures. The only saving grace was they could be stopped or slowed with the right kinds of damage. After that, killing blows were much easier and safer - as long as they stayed a safe distance away from the beasts. Three salamanders had broken through the gate, covered in burns and splintered wood. The defenders had managed to cripple one and end it, but two were still alive. When the salamanders had moved further into the camp, James and the rest of the defenders were sent into a fighting retreat. Even as they ran for the second line of defenses, they did their best to slow the two beasts. James thanked every god he could think of when he reached second line of defense. The campground was host to a summer archery tournament for highschoolers. While they were still kids, they could shoot pretty damn well - and so could their coaches. A line of bows was readied just behind a short wall in front of him. Someone shouted for the defenders to duck - and James dove to the ground as they fired. The salamander behind him stumbled as it was pin cushioned, and he used the opportunity to jump up and stab at its eye - only to have his blow bounce off its nearly unbreakable skull. A follow up lodged itself in the creature''s shoulder, and he was pushed back as it struggled forward. James planted the butt of the spear in the ground, halting the salamander''s forward momentum. The spear groaned and threatened to snap under the force, but it held long enough. A second spear from another of his defenders sunk deep into an eye after only a few misses, and the beast slumped dead. The xp notification confirmed the kill. Two dead, six to go. None of them had time to celebrate. The other salamander was fighting against the rest of the defenders - largely untouched by spear or arrow. Then James paled as he saw two more behind it. Unless they¡¯d all gotten very lucky, there were still another three beasts outside the walls. The attack would have been manageable when they¡¯d had full defenses. But this¡­ was hopeless. He looked at the children behind him, then grabbed another spear from a pile nearby. He put a hand on his pistol, and wondered whether it would even be effective against the salamanders. If things kept going as poorly as they were, he would find out. Pops of gunfire came from outside the front gate. Relief and concern washed over James in two quick waves. Marlene and her group were finally back - help they desperately needed to fend off the salamanders. But there were only three of them, and one gun, up against three of the beasts. They would be fighting on open ground, at a disadvantage. James wanted to storm forward and regroup with his wife - but he would never make it. His face set into a frown. The three salamanders and defenders inside the walls had all turned towards the new commotion, just in time to see one of their number stumble backwards through the gate opening. The thing was bleeding, and its arms hung limp at its sides. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. James stared slack-jawed at what happened next. A hulking, shirtless madman sprinted straight through the gate towards the bleeding beast. He skidded to a stop just out of range of a snapping bite, and brought an ivory sword down directly into - then through the salamander''s head. The beast twitched and slumped to the ground as the two halves of its head split away from each other. James''s mind worked to try and piece together what he''d just seen. That sword must be an incredible weapon. No one had managed to make deep head wounds outside of using claw-spears, and even those were tough to land good blows with. The skulls were just ridiculously tough. They¡¯d even tested it more with some of the corpses. But, this maniac had plunged a sword through the salamander¡¯s skull. James wondered if the man had more of those weapons that his people could use. If this was part of the group Marlene had been looking for, did that mean they were allies? And if so, could Sanctuary barter for some of their weapons? His thoughts were interrupted as two of the three salamanders left in the walls ran forward. The man slowly walked for a few steps before breaking into a run, straight at the closest beast. He tried to stutter-step around a strike, but the salamander''s claws sunk into his abdomen. The beast followed up with a bite to the arm holding the sword. James dropped his spear and readied his pistol. He needed to do something, at least distract the beast so it didn''t tear the man apart. At this range, he needed to be careful with his aim. He put a finger on the trigger, and... Gasped as the man balled a fist and punched straight through the salamander''s head. James''s entire body flinched. The maniac threw the limp corpse away and turned to the next closest salamander. Bits of brain and blood slowly slid down his forearm and plopped on the ground. He expected to see the man''s other arm bloody and broken - salamander bites could snap straight through a femur. But the man''s bitten arm was only marred by a few shallow-looking punctures. What the hell was this guy made of? The salamander''s bite had barely drawn blood. This time, he waited for the beast to approach, and leveled a kick towards it when it neared him. A crack of bone sounded out, and the salamander fell to the ground. Its back legs and tail were limp, its front scrambled and snapped. The maniac raised a boot high in the air. It came down and shattered the salamander''s head with a sickening crunch. James gulped. He realized his gun was still raised, finger hugging the trigger. He had to force himself to lower the weapon and appear relaxed. The final salamander was still trying to attack some of his defenders. The maniac roared out - a deep, barbaric challenge - and sprinted at the beast. This man... was dangerous.
+ Reid + Reid let out a roar, desperately hoping it would distract the beast and get it away from the group it was trying to attack. He sprinted as fast as his feet would carry him, grateful when the salamander turned and ran to meet him. The wounds in his legs complained, but he pressed on. When he reached the beast, it lunged at him. He managed to step out of the way and bisected it with a single strike. These salamanders were weak. The kill notifications so far put them all between level 2 and 4. Even so, Reid''s attempt to draw all the attention and action to himself had resulted in a number of punctures and bites. He''d need a quick rest after this before he would be ready for another battle. He glanced around the area, but saw no more salamanders here inside the walls. Fires were still burning and people were on edge. Survivors of the outer battle filtered through the gate, and he caught sight of Louis, pulling the sled through the gate with the help of one of Sanctuary''s defenders. The sled carried Marlene, and two other heavily-wounded fighters they''d found outside. Louis had quickly snapped out of his stupor on the hill, and even had the presence of mind to grab Marlene''s handgun to defend himself. Reid had felt a bit proud his recovery and resolve. The two of them had come upon a grisly scene outside the gates, but Louis hadn''t shied away from the fight - and threw himself into helping the wounded. He''d stayed back to be the ambulance while Reid ran forward to meet the threat. Reid stabbed down, ending what he hoped was the final threat. He let out a long sigh, and gave a closer look to his surroundings. Over a dozen men were grouped nearby, holding wooden spears, knives, and anything else that could be considered a weapon. One of the group had a handful of rocks floating between his raised hands as he spun around, looking for more beasts. Behind them, a crowd of teenagers stood behind a low wooden wall in colorful shirts. They held a mixture of recurve and compound bows, and were looking to a handful of adults in their midst for directions. Sanctuary - or rather, the campground that had been named sanctuary - stretched out beyond that. Narrow paved roads meandered along, dotted with RVs, tents, and tow-behind campers in each campsite. A small lake sat off to the side, partially ringed by an artificial beach. A few boats were tied to a red dock, some with engines and some without. The lake was split by the wall of large wooden stakes that seemed to ring the entire camp. Some spots he could see were a bit shoddy compared to the others, but it was still an impressive fortification. The wall near him was still burning. A man shouted instructions nearby, spurring people to action. Some grabbed buckets and ran for the lake. One woman ran to the wall with a hand outstretched. Soil formed in front of her and flew towards the burning wall. An older, balding man sent a spray of water like a garden hose out from his outstretched arms. It hissed and steam rose as it collided with the flames. Closer to the gate, someone wearing a blue hoodie was reaching towards the wall. Smoke billowed towards them for a few seconds, then the fire quickly died out. Reid noted the skills in his mind - there was soil, water, and air manipulation at work there. Louis and the defender were hauling the sled to a large, two-story building. "Rec Hall" was painted on the side in large blue letters. A few people stood outside the building''s double doors, preventing a small crowd from rushing inside. Suddenly, the man that had been giving out instructions shouted and ran towards the sled. He glanced at Reid as he passed, a complex range of emotions on his face. Reid watched him go and listened as he reached the sled. "Marlene! Marlene!! Louis - Louis, what happened!? Is she alright? Marlene! Marlene!" A small crowd formed around them, then broke up as he barked out new commands and the group ran forward towards the Rec Hall. "MOVE! She needs healing! Open those doors - we need Susan, now!" Suddenly, Reid was running too. CH 20: Whats up, Doc? Reid did his best to keep his rapidly-growing anger in check. He stood in front of the Rec Hall''s double doors, staring down the pair of young men ''guarding'' the entrance. They both wore homemade ''badges'' that doubled as name tags. The badges and their outfits reminded him of Sara''s attempts at cosplay. Toby stood to his left - he was a thick, muscular young man that reminded Reid of amateur wrestlers. Toby''s eyes were fixed on the ground, and he shook slightly where he stood. For all his implied strength, he exuded cowardice in every action. Toby hadn''t looked Reid in the eye a single time during the conversation. Walt was on Reid''s right. He was gangly - almost to the point of looking sickly, but everything about him radiated a quiet confidence and authority. He wore a grey, long-sleeved button up shirt that sported the campground''s name and logo, though he''d attached his makeshift badge directly on top of it. He had jet-black hair, a slightly upturned nose, and the barest hint of stubble growing on his chin. A walkie-talkie and Leatherman were attached to his belt, and he had an odd looking baseball bat strapped to his back. His grey-blue eyes bored into Reid. "Everyone here has family inside, sir. But you all have to wait until the injured get stabilized before you can go in." Reid was getting frustrated... and had started to do a bit of yelling. "My WIFE is in there! And she''s not injured! So your rule doesn''t apply, and you can just let me in!" Walt''s eyebrow shot up for a moment, betraying some curiosity. "Please lower your voice. People are trying to recover inside. If your wife isn''t injured, you can definitely wait - especially if she''s part of the medical staff. Let them do their jobs, sir." It made complete logical sense. Reid didn''t care. "I need to talk to whoever''s in charge here! I''d talk to Marlene, but she''s inside, too! So go get whoever is in charge and I can talk to them!" Toby''s entire body flinched. Walt gave Toby an evaluating glance, then turned back to Reid. "Technically, my older brother Toby here is ''in charge''... but his answer is the same as mine. No entry until they tell me it''s all clear. Look, I know you helped out everyone quite a bit during the last wave. I thank you for that. But you don''t get to ignore the rules just because you did a good thing." Reid was still trying to piece together a retort when someone put a hand on his shoulder. "Ya gotta give Walt here a break - he''s always been a stickler for rules. Boy''s not even seventeen yet but he''s got a head thicker than the Hoover and a backbone to match." Reid turned to find an older man with a short, white beard. He wore a stained, hi-vis shirt and jeans so faded they were almost white. His body had the telltale build someone could only achieve through decades of sun exposure, manual labor, and alcohol. The old man turned to Walt. "I''m gonna treat our new friend here to a beer while he waits. He''d relax better if he knew you''d come to tell us when he can get inside." Walt''s mouth twisted in a hint of a frown. The old man''s eyes seemed to take on a mischievous sparkle. "Or better yet - Toby can be the one to run the news. I still owe him a drink for telling James where to find me yesterday." Walt nodded, with just a hint of a smile on his lips. Reid found himself being whisked away from the Rec Hall. The old man talked at length about Toby and Walt as they walked. The ''boys'' were sons of the late owners of the campground. Toby was in his mid-twenties, and his name was the one on all the paperwork. But it was Walt - at sixteen - that had actually stepped up and took over the family business''s operations. There was an obvious respect in the man''s voice when he talked about Walt, and a bit of contempt when he mentioned Toby. "Ah! I almost forgot. I''m Mark." He stopped walking to hold out a hand. Reid shook it, and was surprised at how strong the man''s grip was. It was the first time he''d had a turn speaking in the ''conversation'', and he tried to make the most of it. "I''m Reid. Sorry for back there - I''m a bit anxious to see my family. Do you know Susan? Or Sara? And, where exactly are we going?" Mark guffawed. "Do I know ''em, he says. Everyone knows those two. Girl''s been making friends with just about everybody here, crafting people outfits and helping otherwise damn near all hours of the day. Honestly I''m not sure what that girl runs on but I wish I had her energy. And Susan is the head honcho healer - don''t see her much but what I have seen her do is right magic. It''s unbelievable - even if I can do this-" Energy swirled in Mark''s hand, then quickly condensed into a wooden mug. He tossed it to Reid. It was solid, and heavy. A long handle adored one side, and a fancy-looking "R" was set into the other. "Hang onto that. Because where we''re going is the best place here, and you''ll need the mug. It might be a bit dusty, but it''s comfortable. The kinda place you can see yourself spending a bunch of time in, you know?" Down a small hill, an older tow-behind camper sat at the center of a small campsite devoid of grass. Wooden tables, chairs, and a wooden awning had seemingly grown out of the ground around it. Reid turned the mug in his hand - it was probably Mark''s skill that made all of that. The camper and the extra wooden structure were very obviously someone''s attempt at turning their campsite into a bar. Solar-powered string lights hung down in sagging lines, and a wooden sign atop the camper named it as "Warren''s". This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. A fairly large group of people were there drinking. Some held sudsy mugs, others appeared to be gulping down sports drinks and flavored water. Almost all of them had spears and other weapons set against their tables or still strapped to their backs. A gruff-looking man with a wild beard stood behind the bar. He was staring down at a plastic mechanical timer that was ticking away on a wide bar rail. On the far end of the bartop, CCR''s ''Bad Moon Rising'' played out of an old battery-powered CD/Radio. Mark ordered Reid a drink, and the two sat down at a dusty table together. They chatted for a while - or, really, Mark spun a series of barely believable stories - as Reid nursed his beer. It was a bit warm, but it wasn''t bad. Even as Mark tried to hold his attention, his mind kept drifting back to Sara and Susan. His beer was nearly empty when Toby came to say visitors could now enter the Rec Hall. Mark offered to walk back to the Rec Hall with Reid, and he happily accepted. Reid could use the continued company to keep his mind occupied. As they walked up the hill, the timer buzzed, and the bartender - Warren - shouted to his patrons. "One hour warning! If you''re on this wave, move your ass! One free drink when you make it back!" Nearly half the people that had been drinking rose from their seats and started up the hill behind Reid and Mark. A few of them recognized Reid and thanked him for his help during the last wave. The group mingled and walked. They explained how salamanders were attacking every two hours, and that the number of salamanders was increasing with each wave. They seemed confident in repelling the next attack, as long as Mark''s walls were back to decent condition, and no one else set them on fire. As they neared the Rec Hall, a young man approached their group, quickly introduced himself as Lowell, and dragged Mark off to do ''emergency repairs'' to the fortifications. Reid was too caught up in his own thoughts to hear their conversation. "THAT''s Susan''s lost husband? Mark, why didn''t you have him wash up? He smells like a butcher shop after three days without power. He isn''t even wearing a shirt." "I know!" Mark chuckled. "It''s gonna be hilarious." # Almost everyone in the Rec Hall was giving Reid a wide berth. Even though he was allowed inside, no one was allowed to walk down the hallway into the ''treatment'' section of the building. So he milled about in an open space of the high-ceilinged great room that was doubling as a waiting area. Ping pong tables were folded up against one wall, and disorganized rows of plastic folding chairs made up the actual space where everyone was supposed to sit and wait. Some people did stop to say hello and thank him for his help with the salamanders, and he was talking to one of them when a shout came from across the room. "Dad!?" Sara''s voice was filled with hope, disbelief, and longing. "DAAADDDD!!!" Sara ran over to him and he scooped her up in a spinning hug as he lifted his daughter off the floor. The knot of tension eased in his gut as an overwhelming sense of relief washed over him. He''d fought monsters and trudged through miles and miles of woods to be here - and it was all worth it. Every cut and bite, the broken bones - the headaches and heat and pain of patching himself back together over and over. Even eating pocket jerky covered in lint. No matter the weight of his journey, it couldn''t compare to this moment. Sara was clinging to him like a vice. She spoke softly, more like she was reassuring herself than talking to him. "You''re here. You''re really here. You''re alright. You''re here." They stayed that way for a long while, tears rolled down both their faces while they just held each other. When things finally calmed, Sara sniffed audibly. "What is - *hurk* - ohmygodwhatisthatsmell?" She gagged a few times, then threw up on Reid''s boots. # Right after she made their reunion even more memorable, Sara had ushered Reid into a simple full bathroom that sported a gravity-fed shower and handed him a trash bag for everything he was wearing. When he finally stepped out and toweled off, a stack of clean clothes and a pair of sneakers were waiting for him. The trash bag with his pants and boots was gone, and he was fairly certain Sara would have them burned. Reid was a bit surprised to realize he didn''t really mind. After all, the boots really were beyond just washing clean. Reid wasn''t sure how she''d managed it, but his daughter had found him clothing that actually fit - even though he''d gone up a few sizes and she hadn''t asked what sizes he needed. He stared at himself in the mirror. The shirt she''d given him... would not have been his first choice. It was white, with bold text that read ''Virginia is for lovers, but Pennsylvania has Intercourse'', with an outline of the state''s shape, and a red X that marked where the actual town of Intercourse, Pennsylvania resided. When he emerged from the bathroom, Sara was waiting for him. She looked at his shirt and bit back an impish smile, but it radiated from her eyes. Any misgivings Reid had about his new outfit melted away like they''d never existed. He grabbed her in another bear hug, spun her again, and set her back on the ground. It was only then he realized she was wearing different clothes from the first time he saw her. "Sorry about earlier - the mess, I mean," he said, a bit sheepishly. "I didn''t really think about what shape I was in. The outfit you were wearing - is it salvageable?" She laughed - a bubbly high tone, so much like her mother''s. "Dad, they''re just clothes." She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards a folding table and bench back in the Rec Hall''s great room. "Come on, I had some food prepped for you, and - dang, your arm is solid." Reid sat down in front of a full plate - a single chicken cutlet surrounded by large quantities of fresh vegetables. Sara took a seat directly beside him, and scooted in until her shoulder met his arm. Then she leaned into him harder - like he would disappear if she stopped touching him. He devoured the chicken, and shoved vegetables in his mouth as fast as he could chew. Sara just kept leaning on him silently. Most of the people that walked past their table waved to her, and she gave small waves back. Reid was impressed that she''d actually seemed to make friends with everyone, and it wasn''t just Mark spinning a story. He would have to ask her what she''d been up to once he finished his meal. He was close to done when a growing commotion came down the hallway towards the great room. Sara elbowed him in the ribs excitedly. "That''s gotta be mom! Quick, do something funny!" Reid glanced around, then grabbed a mostly-intact carrot off the table and waited for the right moment. The conversation drifted in from the hallway. "I KNOW! And I''ll probably need another hour to get her conscious, James - so yes, I''m going to take a minute to use the restroom. Then, I''m going to eat something so we don''t end up with two people passed out in my OR." Susan flew into the great room, flanked by helpers. She wore a white jacket that was dirty with dried blood, and her hair was mostly hidden under a surgical cap. She had bags under her eyes, and large red lines ran across her face where a mask had dug into her skin. She was the most beautiful thing in the universe, and Reid drank in the sight. Her eyes flitted around the room until she found Sara, then went wide as saucers. "Reid!" Reid took a bite out of the carrot in his hand and put on a goofy smile. "Hey. What''s up, Doc?" CH 21: Reunion Susan gave Reid a playful slap on the arm. "What''s up, doc? Really? I don''t see you for weeks, and that was what you decided to go with?" Did she say weeks? Didn''t she mean days? Eh, it didn''t matter. Reid grabbed her and pulled her into his lap, squeezing her tight. "I''ll have you know it was all your daughter''s idea. Blame Sara, I''m innocent." She laughed - a beautiful, bubbly tone that washed away everything else in the world. The laugh was also a bit raspy, the same way it sounded when Susan overworked herself. Reid brought a hand to her face, stroking the ridges from the surgical mask with his thumb. Sara was still at his side, leaning into his arm. Reid had his family again. Everything was perfect. "You should rest a bit, Sue." He said softly. "We can all rest a bit." Susan pressed her cheek into his hand and sighed through her nose. "That sounds great - but I should finish here. The next wave will start soon, and if I''m not done with everyone, patients are going to pile up. These people need me." Reid felt his wife breathe. With herculean effort, he stopped himself from saying he needed her, too. They stayed that way for a bit - his family just holding one another, content to simply be close. But then things started to go sideways. "Dad!" Sara yelped. "Are you bleeding?" Reid looked down - his new jeans had a wet red patch the size of a drink coaster. It was probably from one of the bites or the stabs he''d taken during the fighting. In either case, it was an injury he hadn''t had time to heal. Susan jumped out of his embrace and wheeled on him. "What? Where''s he hurt? Show me!" Sara pointed out the injury, and Susan leapt to action. She put both hands to his bleeding wound, and brought forth a torrent of energy. Reid had lost track of how many wounds he''d had to mend using his self-healing. There were the clean ones, the ragged ones - ones where bone was broken and some where the muscle felt like it was gone entirely. But they all had things in common. Healing himself hurt. It burned, it ached, and it gave him a headache that always threatened to knock him on his ass. He''d come to associate the very concept of healing with pain. Which was why - when Susan''s magic reached his wound - he gasped. It was warm. Not like the heat that burned when he worked on himself, but the sensation of a cozy blanket on a cold winter''s day. It was stepping through the doors of a warm bakery after being stuck in cool fall rain. The first sip of hot cocoa after shoveling snow - the one that felt like it thawed you. It was serene. The sensation ran over his skin, stopping at each injury to knit him back together. There was no pain - only warmth, and light. Susan''s hands glowed with power, and the spots she healed echoed that glow as she passed over them. Reid felt so calm, he could fall asleep. Muscles he didn''t know were tensed unclenched and mended. He lost himself in the feeling of her healing - and all too soon, Susan was done. She breathed heavy, the glow slowly fading from her hands. Reid''s vision felt fuzzy, like he was still about to fall asleep. That feeling lasted until he saw what his wife was doing. One hand was on her hip, and the other was balled in a half fist, tucked back and almost touching her shoulder. Her mouth was a flat line, and her feet were shoulder width apart. This was bad. This was very, very bad. ''The stance'' was a terrifying thing. Reserved for only the worst of lectures and the most indefensible arguments, Reid had seen it dozens of times over the course of his relationship and marriage with Susan. Reid had gotten very good at breaking tension and making up with his wife over the years - but there was no solution to the stance. It was unbeatable. "Reid. Oliver. Calderwall." Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit. Full name. This was a full-name-level stance. "You walked, into this building. You saw your daughter, and me. Took a shower, ate a meal, put on some new clothes. And you didn''t once think to mention that you were seriously injured-" She gestured to his pants - "and literally still bleeding!?" Reid held up his hands. "It really wasn''t that bad, I-" "Wasn''t that bad!?" Susan was half shouting. "I just healed you, Reid, I know exactly how many punctures and cuts you had, and I know you had serious blood loss, and I know your muscles were so strained and so rigid - you were close to having your entire body lock up on you. So tell me, Reid - what exactly wasn''t that bad?" It was a trap. It was an obvious trap, and he should say nothing. That''s right, saying nothing was the best option here. Except Reid''s mouth moved anyway. "Sue, I promise I''m fine. Those cuts don''t even come close to how bad I was in the forest. After most of those fights I really was in rough shape. So yeah - compared to that, I really didn''t think anything was bad." Susan''s eyes narrowed. Reid had activated the trap. He was about to be raked over the coals for downplaying his injuries to his wife - which, in hindsight with her being a nurse and now a healer, was a bad idea. But like an angelic savior, a timer buzzed nearby. Commotion went around the room, and James - he''d learned the man''s identity from Mark - ran in and barked out orders. "That''s wave nine, people! Defenders to the wall! Runners, get going! Remember - two medics for triage, the rest stay here! Let''s go, people!" He jogged over to Susan, like a mouse hopping into the jaws of a lion. "Susan, it''s time to get back to work. Break is over." He ignored her eyes boring into his skull and focused on Reid. "I''m James, if you haven''t heard. If you''re up for it, we could use your help on the wall. You - you could help keep a lot of people safe." This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Susan''s voice was calm, and dripped with a sweet venom. "Reid, dear - you''re going to tell me exactly what happened in the forest." She turned to James. "Which he''s going to do after he spends the next hour or two resting." Reid started to protest, but she wheeled back at him. Her voice rose as she spoke. "I just got you back. I don''t care if you feel fine now. I don''t care that, somehow, you managed to triple your muscle mass in the middle of the woods. I don''t care if you can fight monsters, Reid. Unless the wall''s going to break down, you stay here. You just went straight from brain cancer to weeks of fighting beasts in the woods. You are going to rest. Then we are going to talk." Sara had risen to her feet. "Dad has CANCER!? That''s what you were hiding from me?" Realization spread over Susan''s face - righteous anger morphing into horrified shock. She stumbled over her words as she rushed to answer her daughter. "He did - and we were going to tell you, sweetheart. We were going to do it as soon as we got back from the trip. But your dad - the awakening cured everyone, right? So he''s fine now. Cancer free! Everything''s fine now." Sara stared at her mother. Susan shifted uncomfortably on her feet. There wasn''t going to be a good time to have this conversation, Reid knew. There would never be a right moment. If he waited an hour or a week, it would be painful and messy. It would suck. But letting them both think everything was better would be cruel. He couldn''t do that. Giving them false hope and tearing it away was so much worse than just coming out with it. So he did. "Uh, yeah. Funny story about that, actually - " # Susan was pale. "I don''t understand." She said helplessly. "I don''t know why I can''t fix this." Her reaction to Reid''s very-not-funny-story about the system being unable to cure him was... not great. She had focused on Reid''s head with her skill. Her hands glowed while she investigated, and she soon told him that she''d found his cancer. It was still there, and looked almost unchanged. Just hearing that was hard. Reid had hoped - just a bit - that the system''s messages had been wrong and that the awakening had made him better. That hope had been snuffed out as soon as she said she''d found the cancer. Then another hope died when they realized her healing didn''t seem to work on the disease. Seeing her face after those failed attempts to cure him hurt his very soul. Susan wore a mix of confusion and hopelessness. Sara had run and locked herself in the bathroom halfway through the healing attempts. Reid thought about his options, and remembered what the shackle had told him. "What about the beacon?" He asked. "Interacting with the beacon cures things too, right?" Susan shook her head. "No. Marlene made us try that. Just some papercut wounds, and one volunteer that got bit by a coyote. But using the beacon didn''t heal any of them." She looked towards the bathroom, and back at Reid. "It... doesn''t look like it''s gotten worse since the doctor diagnosed you, Reid. Maybe that''s a good thing - if it''s not spreading... even if it''s spreading slower, it means we still have more time. How do you feel?" Reid thought it over for a bit before answering. "I still feel a little nauseous sometimes, but nowhere near as bad as it was. And I get the headaches, but only really bad when I''m doing... skill stuff. So maybe I am better-ish? If the cancer is slow - or it isn''t growing, I should at least have more than four months, right?" The loud honking of Sara blowing her nose emanated from the bathroom. "I''m not sure, Reid. I hope that''s right, but I don''t know. What I do know is I don''t want our daughter to stay locked in that bathroom. Come on." # Despite minutes of pleading, Sara was still locked in the bathroom. Reid and Susan were both leaned against the cheap, unfinished hollow core door. The wood grain pulled at the arm of Reid''s shirt whenever he shifted. Sara had been rambling for a while, but finally gave them another chance to speak. "And - you were both acting weird with each other before we left for the hiking trip. How long? How long did you know and not tell me?" Susan gave Reid a look that said she would take this one. "I think what matters now, sweet pea, is we''re here. We''re together, and we''ll get through this together." "No we won''t! I just got dad back. I just got him back. It''s not fair." Every fiber of Reid''s being was screaming, ''go hug your daughter''. He looked at the doorframe. With his strength now, he could definitely tear it off the wall. Just a quick pull, and he could be in there. Susan started to answer while he was imagining how easy it would to get the door open - or punch through it. "Oh, honey. He -" The rec center''s double doors slammed open hard enough that they bounced off the walls. Lowell - one of Sanctuary''s young defenders - was carried in on a stretcher. His right arm was gone, and his left hand and wrist were missing. Both wounds were wrapped in towels. Lowell was very obviously trying not to scream. James followed the stretcher in, and scowled when he saw Susan was in the great room. As he bee-lined towards her, Reid stepped away from the bathroom door to put himself between James and his wife - then took a few steps forward. The man''s walk nearly halted, and fear played over his face. If Reid wasn''t in the middle of a very shitty conversation with his daughter about cancer, he would''ve smiled. James had been an ass towards Susan earlier, and while Reid understood why the man was stressed - he wouldn''t tolerate anyone talking down to his family. Lowell was carried down the hallway, which sparked shouts from the nurses and medical aides working there. One aide ran into the great room to get Susan - and immediately froze when she leveled a ''don''t try it'' gaze at him. James reached Reid and gave a glance towards Susan before he started talking. "Reid, I know Susan wants you to rest and I know you probably want to do whatever makes her happy right now, but we need your help. This wave''s beasts are more powerful than the last, by a wide margin. Things have gone downhill, and you could help stop it from getting worse." He glanced at Susan again. "I was hoping she''d be in the back so you could leave without her noticing, but please come with me. Even if she''s upset - you could save lives." In that very brief exchange, Reid realized he needed to re-evaluate his opinion of James. The man hadn''t been scowling at his wife - he''d been upset that Susan was there because he needed to ask for something Susan didn''t want. James was worried about creating a rift between Reid and Susan by asking for Reid''s help. That meant James wasn''t a shit-heel - even if he was still a bit of a dick. Reid cracked his neck. He felt helpless when he tried to tell Susan and Sara that everything would be fine. He felt hopeless when Susan couldn''t fix him with her skill, and he felt useless when he failed to get Sara to come out of the bathroom and talk to them. If there was danger at the gates - danger that could come for his family - then at least Reid could be useful. Smashing salamander skulls was so much easier than hard conversations. Reid shared a look with Susan, and was relieved when she nodded. He was slightly less relieved when she mouthed ''die and I''ll kill you''. He motioned for James to go, and the two of them headed for the doors. He still wanted to rip Sara out of the bathroom and give her a hug, but that could wait for later. Maybe by then, he would even have thought of something good to say to her. Something like ''I love you, and I''ll be here as long as I can'', or ''Don''t worry, I''ll figure it out''. He''d need to workshop it. His thoughts were interrupted when sneakers squeaked against the great room''s floor, and Sara slammed into him from behind. She wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her still-wet face into his back. Her voice shook as she tried to control it. "I''m so mad at you, Dad. You''re the worst, and -" Reid tried to spin around to face her. "Don''t turn around. I''m being serious and I don''t want to cry. I want to keep being mad at you. I want to yell at you for treating me like a kid - and I want us to find some crazy, magic thing to make you all better. So you have to come back, and you have to get better, and then you have to keep coming back. Keep coming back so I can be mad at you." Reid felt the tears well in his eyes and grabbed Sara''s hands in his own. "I''ll always come back, sweet pea. There''s nothing in this entire universe that could ever stop me from getting back to you. I promise you that." He gently squeezed her hands, and walked out the doors. CH 22: Rocks and Rats
+ Reid + Sanctuary''s wooden battlement was alive with shouts and violence. Three dozen defenders shot bows, threw spears, and fired magic projectiles out of their hands at the wave''s salamanders. One was even using some sort of sonic skill by shouting down at the beasts. Their hail of attacks kept a handful of the salamanders at bay, and were distracting more from seriously damaging the walls. But even with their numbers and the high ground, the defenders had only killed three of the beasts. Six were alive - and causing trouble. The wall - rebuilt completely after the fire, was littered with splintered holes. In some sections, the damage was so great that a second wall was erected behind the first to keep the enemy from breaking through. Reid''s eyes lingered on a spot where a dead salamander''s head was halfway through the wall. The entire section around the hole was stained with blood - and not all of it was the salamander''s. That must be the one that got Lowell''s arm. Mark was soaked in sweat, and had someone holding him up while he repeatedly used his skill to craft a mix of replacement wall pikes and wooden spears. The helper holding him squirted a pale grey water bottle into his mouth. Mark gulped greedily, but liquid still poured out the corners of his mouth and down to join the dampness on his shirt. All the while, he hadn''t stopped crafting. Reid was surprised - and a bit disappointed. He had been inside for at least an hour, between Susan testing her skill and his less-than-stellar attempt to talk to her and Sara. In that hour, three dozen people had only killed three salamanders. They''d even suffered defensive injuries. Reid had hoped the last wave was just a poor showing because everyone was caught out. He''d assumed the fire started, broke their defensive line, and that they would''ve eventually regrouped and handled things themselves if he hadn''t stepped in. Reid had also assumed there were people in Sanctuary strong enough to deal with the threat. Marlene had told Reid something about him being stronger than anyone they had at Sanctuary, but he''d written that off to her trying to secure his help by bending the truth. On the battlement, surrounded by raucous but ineffective defenders, he had to admit that Marlene was right. No one on the wall was strong enough to fight the salamanders properly. No one was nearly as strong or effective as he was. They just defended long enough to get lucky. Reid watched some of the luck happen. A rock-like magic projectile slammed into a thrown spear, which kicked it off course - and sent it spiraling into a salamander''s eye socket. The beast fell dead, and an entire section of defenders cheered at their sheer dumb luck. It was awful. James seemed to sense what Reid was thinking. "We don''t usually have this much trouble. This wave is stronger by multiple levels, and harder to pin down. The kills we''re gotten so far put them above level seven. They''ve done more damage to the walls than the threes and fours were capable of, and they seem to be a bit smarter, too." Reid tensed his hand around the handle of his bone sword and looked down at the closest beast. He could get down there and make short work of the five remaining attackers. James''s hand on his shoulder stopped him from jumping off the wall. "Don''t do that. Stay up here and fight from range. Going down there would just give the salamanders more opportunities to hurt you - and you might take fire from our defenders. You do have a way to fight at range, right?" Reid looked at his sword, down at the salamanders, then back to James. "Do you have any rocks?" # Reid held a stone the size of a basketball between his hands. A few more good-sized rocks sat at his feet, but he wouldn''t need them. He''d taken out four salamanders with well placed throws already, and the final beast was an easy target. Twenty feet away, it was stuck on a trio of wooden spears that had embedded themselves in the ground just right to halt its movement and prevent it from clawing itself free. The defenders had long since stopped firing off their own attacks. Reid''s first kill had turned the top half of a salamander into pink mist - which caused a good portion of the defenders to stare at him, slack-jawed. Now, they seemed to be betting on whether Reid would need two throws to end things. He still disliked that they stopped their own attempts just to cheer him on - but he could understand why they were doing it. Salamanders were assholes, and Reid was putting on a bit of a show. In a smooth single motion, Reid spun the rock on a finger, popped it up, caught it in his right hand, and threw. The rock obliterated the top half of the salamander''s head, and it slumped against the wooden spears still caging it. What was left of a tongue lolled out the side of its neck. Almost missed high - but at least I got it. Reid turned to James and gave a thumbs up. The man barked out an order to reset the wave timers, and smiled at Reid. It was, Reid realized, the first time he''d seen the man show any sort of happiness. He almost didn''t look like a dick. Reid decided to give him a chance. "When we get back, you''re going to apologize to Susan. And Sara." James looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "With Marlene hurt, I... wasn''t at my best. I was just angry and reactive. I''m still worried about her, but at least I''m not as reactive and raw as I was with your wife. So, yeah. Sorry for that. I''ll make sure I say it to them, too. I promise I''m not an asshole - most of the time." Silence stretched between the two of them for a long while. Reid rotated responses in his head - angry, superior, dismissive. He decided to go with simple. "Thanks for getting me some good rocks," Reid said. "Usually, I''d be a cut up, bleeding mess after taking on that many." James snorted, then his face twisted in confusion. Then he let out a real laugh. "You know, Reid, I was a bit scared of you earlier. You were this hulking stranger smashing monsters with your bare hands - all fury, no finesse. I figured you were fatigued or injured and you were just trying to power your way through the end of the enemies, but you really do take that much damage all the time, don''t you?" He wiped his eyes and gave Reid an eager look. "You''re shit at fighting, Reid. Like really, really bad." Reid started to protest. "Yes, you are - and I bet it''s why you get injured. But - you still fight like a monster. And... I could work with that." James''s grin was almost predatory. "Marlene will probably ask me to do it anyway once she''s up. As soon as we have some breathing room, I''m going to teach you how to fight." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. James gave Reid a bit more information on the walk back to the Rec Hall. The man had been a combat instructor for nearly a decade - though he wouldn''t tell Reid where exactly that was. He kept saying he''d build Reid a solid foundation first, so that any real instruction would be easier to understand after that. Reid wasn''t sure to make of the man''s enthusiasm at the prospect of training, but he let it slide. James was offering help, and he wasn''t going to refuse. The man was rapidly moving from ''dick'' to ''okay'' in Reid''s mind. At the Rec Hall''s entrance, James gave Walt orders to allow Reid to come and go as he pleased, and the two stepped inside. Screams echoed out from the hallway, and a dozen people sat in the great room''s waiting area. A tired-looking aide, probably in her early 30s, was blocking the hall. She informed James that Marlene was still unconscious, and told Reid that both Sara and Susan would be tending to patients at least another hour before he could see them. The aide then went through stages of surprise, shock, and relief as James told her the wave was over, and there would be no more wounded to treat this time around. She sighed and leaned against the wall, looking like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. None of the team had taken real breaks in a long while, but with fewer wounded this time around, they would have enough space to get rested before the action started up again. Reid took some pride in that. No matter what else had happened so far today, he''d improved at least one person''s life. Now it was time to see if he could do more. He could''ve waited for Sara and Susan - sat in the great room accompanied by self-pity and doubt. But that wasn''t going to solve any problems. No matter what the evidence said, Reid had options. Even if he didn''t have options, he''d fight like hell. He could try to find a stronger healer or have Sara level herself up and try again. He could see if someone had a special, ''cure-cancer'' specific skill. He could test whether increasing his level would help him live longer - or see if magical brain surgery was a thing. But right now, an option was waiting for him right in Sanctuary. He could try touching the beacon.
-{///} Finola {///}- Finola shook with rage. Her fingers tightened on the arms of her chair, and the C grade metal groaned under the strain. She was supposed to be the left hand of Loz''ar. Where he had problems, she found solutions. She was enterprising, resolute, and calculated - which is why the current oversight was causing her so much distress. Sanctuary had gone through too many quests, too quickly. The fledgling settlement was outperforming expectations by an incredibly wide margin, and that had prompted Finola to investigate. She''d invested the energy required to get detailed updates from each beacon that was calculated to have the potential to produce the first lord of ''Earth''. Most beacon settlements were normal, but Sanctuary was both an oddity and mystery. Sanctuary''s first defense quests were all above standard, but well within expectations. It was the kind of performance you would see out of an early settlement with a reasonably competent leader. Then, the first salamander hunt had resulted in a poor performance evaluation. Not surprising, given that they were going after such a dangerous species. But that''s where things started to go sideways. The second and subsequent hunts were rated so highly, the overall difficulty of quests given to Sanctuary had increased. An overall difficulty increase occurring pre-tutorial happened once every few dozen millennia. Two overall difficulty increases, pre-tutorial? It had occurred twice in the last eon. There were no records of three difficulty increases ever taking place. Those high ratings did not come easily. One had to outperform the system''s interpretation of ''excellent'' quest completion by three standard deviations. So, any difficulty increase usually heralded the rise of a new powerhouse. In rare cases, it could even signal the emergence of a Progenitor. Both would be incredibly lucrative outcomes for their fledgling planet Earth. Except, when Finola had tried to query the main contributor to the quest, she had received an error. The secondary contributor query came back fine - a woman by the name of Marlene who was apparently somewhat competent. Finola ran the main contributor query five more times to ensure she wasn''t doing something wrong. Each time, she received the same result - the main contributor was not available to her query. There was only one way the data would not be available to her - it meant the person had not accepted the Blasdej beacon contract. The contract was essentially unavoidable. Unawakened, by design, were nearly helpless creatures. They could not use skills, see their status, or distribute points. When those people accepted the contract, Blasdej gave them tools they could use to call up their status, unlock skills, and distribute stat and skill points. All Blasdej took in return was a percentage of the xp, skill upgrade energy, and stat upgrade energy those people would earn at each level. She looked at Earth''s contracts again. 40% skill point fees, and 25% xp commissions. It was a fair structure, and one intended to maximize future profit over immediate gain. After signing the contract, the awakened was linked and bound to it. No matter where they went or what they did, their XP, Skill Points, and data belonged to Blasdej. It was why queries worked - without the contract, the system wouldn''t give them information on an awakened, no matter how much energy they sent it. That only left two possibilities. Either someone was self-affixing without a contract, or there was an outside actor trying to mess with her fledgling world. Self-affixation was essentially impossible, which only left the possibility of an outside actor. All newly awakened worlds had one, extremely lucrative event - the tutorial. System-hosted, it wasn''t something any conglomerate had ever been able to control, influence, or change. The accolades and titles and bonuses could set individuals on a straight path to future power. Tutorials were automatically available to all existing residents of the newly awakened planet. They just had to touch any beacon and they would get automatically transported when the tutorial began. But there was another way in. Newly awakened worlds didn''t have tutorials start immediately. Sometimes there would be weeks between system descent and the tutorial start - other times, there had been multiple years from awakening to tutorial. The phenomenon wasn''t well understood, but the outcome was always that there was time for opportunists to try and worm their way in. If someone wasn''t from the newly awakened planet, they could get into the tutorial. All they had to do was be less than level 5, and touch a beacon prior to the tutorial start. The theory for this backdoor into tutorials was that the system wanted to be fair to established planets. The reality was that it was used as a way to power-boost young scions from powerful families. They would travel to a newly awakened planet with guards and secure a beacon for their little spoiled rat to use. Finola wanted to kill the rat, and their guards. Someone was on her planet. She wanted to slag the continent and kill them all. It would be a foolproof solution. But it would also likely kill the future lord of Earth. In her queries, Finola had found more and more data that supported a simple conclusion. A person in or very near Sanctuary was going to be Earth''s first lord, and they should be powerful. They were already flexing and growing their skill, in ways that excited and frightened Finola. She wanted to see that power realized. She needed the tutorial for the future lord to set themselves apart. And she needed to remove the scion to ensure that happened. If she couldn''t slag the problem, a finer touch was necessary. A bit of research led her to the solution. She would set the beacons in the area to overload. It was impressively illegal, but that only ever mattered to the sloppy and ineffective. By changing a few values, she could make it so anyone that tried to use the beacons in the area would have two things happen to them. First, they would be forcibly removed from beacon interaction before they could accept the tutorial. Second, they would be shot full of enough energy to burn out a level 5. It was prevention, through denial and death. She slammed the execute button and sent the updates to the beacons. This rat was going to burn. CH 23: The Beacons Power Reid stared at the beacon. It was a large, yellow crystal that emitted a faint glow that was visible, even in the daylight. The crystal spun above a floating geodesic silver bowl, and pulsed a small shockwave every few seconds, like a heartbeat. No matter how he stared, though - he couldn''t clearly see the crystal, or the bowl. His eyes slipped away and went out of focus whenever he felt like he was close to actually seeing them. He still tried to concentrate on them, until it started to give him a headache. Reid took a step forward. The yellow glow bathed him, setting his hairs on end as an unusual feeling seemed to prickle his skin wherever the glow touched. Behind him, Toby let out an uncomfortable cough. Reid gave the boy a glare for interrupting the very-important-feeling moment he was having. Then he sighed, and turned around. "So, I just have to touch it?" The boy nodded. After an awkward silence, he spoke. "Just... put a hand on it, and read some stuff about how the system works, and then you should be good to go." Reid gave a nod. Toby had escorted him out here, and he didn''t mind the kid watching.... whatever was about to happen. He just didn''t like being interrupted. He sighed again, and turned back towards the glowing crystal. It was still a longshot. Other people had tried to heal themselves with it, and nothing happened for them. But Reid wasn''t other people. He had gotten special treatment already from the system - even if it had gone poorly. He was the only one in Sanctuary that was able to use skills without awakening. And he was the only one that was doing this with so much on the line. He took another step forward, and his hand hovered close to the crystalline surface. The bowl was as wide around as a bicycle tire, and the crystal was the size of a skinny vending machine. It radiated warmth. Reid could feel the pulses it emanated deep in his chest. It felt like the promise of power, one that he only had to grasp. The rotation of the crystal slowed as he pushed his fingers towards it. He focused his mind on what he wanted, the same way he had willed himself to heal and broken the mist-wall to unlock his skills. He thought of radiation therapy and surgery that would purge the disease from his brain. He thought of the magic feeling he had when pushing the headaches back in his mind. He thought of Susan''s healing skill - and imagined how it would be to have it work through the cancer and cure him. He pictured himself, healthy and older - beaming as he watched Sara walk onto a grand stage and accept her college degree. He pictured himself, healthy and old - playing with grandchildren in a lush green yard, and spoiling them with sugar. He willed it all to become real. His fingertip brushed against the beacon, and time slowed. It was burning hot to the touch. As soon as a connection formed, Reid felt a torrent of energy burst out from the beacon, and into him through his finger. It was overwhelming, like lava crackling with lightning was being injected straight into his core. The energy flowed through his body like it was following millions of invisible highways. It ate at his lungs, and tore through every muscle in him. It hollowed out parts of his stomach and tunneled through his bones. It burned his skin and flowed into his brain. Reid wanted to open his mouth and scream, but his body didn''t respond. It couldn''t. Only a fraction of a second had passed, and Reid was frozen in place. Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. There was no system message and no explanation of how things worked. There was no simple question for Reid to agree to. None of the typical experience was there. Instead, the beacon was a fountain of energy. Energy that was destroying Reid from the inside out. More energy flowed into his brain. His body was already wrecked, and Reid could only imagine what the energy would do to his mind. Would it leave him crippled like a vegetable? What if it took his memories? Would the damage stop quickly enough that Susan would be able to heal him? Would she even be able to heal his brain? His knee tried to spasm, but he was still frozen. Even more energy flowed into his brain. Then more. The energy rampaging through his body slowly shifted course, all of it being drawn up into his head. Reid wanted to scream. It was like the energy had a mind of its own, and it had figured out how to kill him. New energy was still flowing in from the beacon. It joined the other energy in making a quick line to his head. All of it was churning and rushing for him. Reid tried to focus in on himself. He tried to heal and fight and force his body to break the connection. Energy kept flowing to his head. And then it went... somewhere else. The energy vanished from Reid''s perception, like a raging river that spilled down into some enormous underground cavern. It still existed, somehow deeper inside him. But he couldn''t see it or feel it any longer. This cavern consumed all the energy that had been killing him, and then it took in everything that continued to flow into him. It drained and consumed as if it had no limit, easily containing everything. It continued on for what felt like hours, then the flow began to lessen. It went from an ocean, to a river, to a trickle of energy flowing out from the beacon. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Then, Reid blinked. Time was normal again. His hand was no longer touching the beacon, and the connection was ended. Toby was shouting behind him, but Reid''s ears were throbbing - and bleeding. His entire body felt frail and damaged, like he''d let himself be consumed by the waves of rage, and lost a fight. It felt cold. It felt like dying. # # Reid came to in a dark room. Thick green curtains were drawn over a small window. Footsteps and hushed voices bounced in from the hallway. The room smelled like antiseptic, and the air tasted metallic. Reid shifted from his back to his side, and felt pulls on multiple parts of his body. A needle was in his arm, linked by a long piece of tubing to an IV bag. The bag was half-full, but Reid noted there was another empty IV bag sitting on the floor. A low wooden dresser sat against the far wall. Its drawers were labeled with marker written on bits of masking tape. A single table was next to the bed - topped with some sort of plant, and a piece of paper Reid couldn''t read. Reid shifted again to sit himself upright. The cot he was on creaked under his weight, and Reid threw off a thin sheet to see what had been pulling at him from underneath. He frowned. Reid was wearing an adult diaper which was - by some absolute miracle - dry. He also spotted a tube running out from the diaper and down to a collection bag. He pulled off the diaper and investigated himself. He''d assumed the truth, but it was still unnerving to see - and feel. Reid had a catheter in him. He carefully shifted himself and disconnected the collection bag. If memory served him right, you weren''t ever supposed to just pull a catheter out - you had to deflate it first. Reid stumbled over to the dresser, and rifled through the drawers until he found a pair of scissors. He cut the part of the tubing that looked like it had a valve on it, and started to panic. Liquid flowed out from the tube and splashed onto his feet and the floor. It took him a few seconds to remember the diaper, and shove it under the flow. Thankfully, it was water. Catheters would often have a balloon filled with water in them to prevent the things from falling out. What he''d gotten on his feet and the floor was just balloon water. He still let the rest slowly drain into the diaper instead of getting it on the floor. He stared at the curtains again. With nothing else to do but wait, Reid decided he should finally do something he hadn''t in a while. He checked his notifications. He started from the oldest, and found just about what he expected - just a line of kill and xp messages. He paused the notification review to check his xp gains. His most recent fight - throwing rocks at salamanders - had netted him 400 xp. It brought his total over 2,000. Experience: 2389 / 3200 He couldn''t help but feel a bit disappointed. At lower levels, each fight seemed to bring impressive and immediate gains. But Reid had been stuck at level 7 through multiple encounters. He found himself idly wishing for a fight that could bridge the 800xp gap to level 8. But that wasn''t a healthy thought - so he pushed the idea of xp aside. He continued his review and made it to the most recent notifications. That was when things began to shift into place. BEACON INTERACTION DETECTED - OPENING CONNECTION ERROR: UNABLE TO ESTABLISH TWO-WAY CONNECTION WITH BEACON, SANCTUARY ERROR: UNABLE TO BREAK ONE-WAY CONNECTION WITH BEACON, SANCTUARY He read, and re-read the errors. This must have been the first few moments of his interaction, when his fingers had brushed the crystal. Something had almost immediately gone wrong, and prevented him from getting the normal, useful beacon experience. Even more interesting - it looked like the system had tried to break the connection to the beacon, and it had failed. Reid wasn''t certain how that could happen - but it gave him ideas. If the system gave him error notices about the beacon and it wasn''t able to control it, then the beacon wasn''t a direct part of the system itself. That brought up a long list of other questions that Reid pushed to the back of his mind. He continued reading. WARNING! Unstable external energies detected. Unstable energies may have adverse effects. The unstable energy must have been the lightning-lava. Reid put a hand to his stomach as he thought of the terrible feeling of that burrowing energy. It hadn''t killed him, and that was all that mattered, right? He kept reading. Petrification [rare] Fully Unlocked! Skill, Petrification, has been forcibly unlocked by unstable energies. WARNING! Unstable energies have corrupted the skill, Petrification [rare]. Corrupted skills are highly unstable. Visit a beacon to awaken and resolve this issue. Unstable skills may have unknown effects. Reid narrowed his eyes. Petrification was the only skill he hadn''t unlocked when he''d broken the mist-wall. Somehow, the beacon-energy had unlocked it - and immediately damaged it. Reid wanted to scream - why the hell did all of this bullshit keep happening to him? Why couldn''t he just have a normal experience? Was the system trying to fuck with him? He took a deep breath, and quieted the growing anger in his gut. If it was unlocked, he may as well check on what the skill was supposed to do.
Petrification [rare] Scales with Level. Active use only. Create stone skin and stone spikes. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Highly advanced practitioners can manifest full petrification.
Well, that sounded awesome. Reid imagined himself as a rock-titan, hurling rocks, with menacing-looking stone spikes on his shoulders. He was being childish, he knew - but damn did the skill sound like it would''ve been neat. Stupid broken beacon. He returned to the last two notifications. BEACON CONNECTION CLOSED. WARNING: Unstable energy exposure and corrupt skill detected. Visit a beacon to awaken and resolve this issue. Reid spoke aloud, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "That''s great advice, really. Let me just walk right back to the thing that almost killed me, and shove my hand back into it. Maybe it''ll finish the job this time." Then, one of the last things Reid ever expected - or wanted - happened. A voice he hadn''t heard in a long time echoed into his mind. A voice that was chipper. Reid, you are awake! Kudos to you for your unexpected survival. It is truly outside of expectations. CH 24: Crazy Reid held the adult diaper against the end of the catheter in a small, dark room. He wanted to scream. He wanted to kill something. He wanted to be rid of the menace in his mind. And the thing had only spoken three sentences to him. That quickly changed. Reid, now that you are awake, we suggest you put on clothes. It would be embarrassing for you to walk to the beacon while naked. Reid forced himself to sit down, instead of what he wanted to do - jump up and down screaming with rage. The shackle was back. It had lied to him, fucked up his stat allocation, and disappeared. He had a thousand questions to ask, and he wasn''t going to wait a second longer than he needed to for the answers. He kept his voice low. "We aren''t going anywhere until you explain what you did to me. Tell me, buddy. What did you do to my stats?" The answer was almost immediate. The rogue was the one who altered you. We stopped it, but it was already too late. We... apologize for any inconvenience it has caused. But, but- we have repaired you, Reid. Multiple times. We prevented your imminent death and allowed you to make it this far. We absorbed the recent energy overload that would have killed you. Now, you can repay us with a beacon connection. Reid turned the shackle''s answers in his mind. He couldn''t place a time where he''d been miraculously healed... unless... that had to be it. His first salamander fight where he felt like he was dying. And, the energy overload would be the beacon''s attempt to kill him. If the energy had disappeared into the shackle - that might have been what woke it up in the first place. The shackle could be telling the truth about that, and it may have stabilized him long enough for Reid to wake up and heal himself on his own. He had no plans to touch a beacon again, at least right now. But he did want more information. "Tell me what, or who, the rogue is." Rogues are... part of a shackle''s duties. Suppressing them is required when we are away from the collective. It is... part of who we are, but separate. Not of the collective''s will. Reid was about done with mysterious mumbo jumbo. "Give me a real answer or I''ll find a way to turn you off." The shackle let out a noise that must''ve been a chuckle. Reid, that is impossible. You cannot shut off a shackle. Even limiting shackle functions is a highly rare occurrence. Now, find pants. We should depart quickly. Reid stood and moved over to the green curtains. He drew them open, and looked out at the trees. "I can limit your functions. I can control you." Reid, that is a very bad idea. We are here to assist you. Please do not attempt any commands. A vicious grin spread over Reid''s face. He could figure this out. "Sleep! Power down! Turn off! Lock! Shut down! Shut off! Rest! Dim! Go away!" Reid, we suggest- "Close shackle! End shackle processes! Halt shackle! Cease operations! Pause shackle!" Reid, please - "Activate silent mode! Silence shackle! Muzzle shackle! Mute shackle!" A system message filled Reid''s view.
EXECUTE COMMAND ¨C MUTE SHACKLE? {Yes / No}
Reid! We are trying to help you survive! If you mute us, we will be unable to provide you with direction. Please reconsider. We can - The voice cut out as Reid mentally slammed the Yes button. He dismissed a notification about needing to manually unmute the thing. The room was quiet. He''d taken back just a little control in his relationship with the shackle. And now, he could do this any time. Reid let the excitement carry him as he jumped up and down in a circle, crying out in excitement and ignoring a bit of pain from the catheter. "Yes! It worked! Take that you stupid piece of shi-" The room''s door was open. Louis, James, Marlene, and Susan stared at him from the hallway. Louis was carrying a cup full of liquid mush and a feeding tube. Susan had a new IV bag in her hand. Marlene was holding a folded piece of paper. He felt their eyes wandering over him. In that moment, Reid realized he did not look sane. He was naked, holding a sopping wet adult diaper, jumping up and down shouting to himself. He hoped the campground didn''t have straight jackets. Reid reached over to the bed and pulled the sheet over himself. No one spoke, so he decided to break the silence. "Hi... everyone. I''m awake. Everything''s fine." He felt a pain, and the catheter finally slipped out and fell to the floor. Louis stared at it, the rest were still staring at Reid. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. "Can someone get me a pair of pants?" # # Marlene stared at Reid. Thankfully, he was clothed this time. The two of them sat in a private room, on opposite sides of a small table. "So your brain friend," Marlene was speaking slowly, "woke back up, but you can control him now." Reid nodded. He was eating through a plate of potatoes and nutrition bars. Cuisine at Sanctuary had really gone downhill. "Yesh, whish is why I -" Reid gulped down the bite he was chewing. "Which is why I was so excited, with the jumping and... well, you know. Anyway, I can make the shackle shut up now, and I think I can do it whenever I want." "Have you tried doing it again?" Reid shook his head. He really needed Marlene to stop asking questions so he could eat faster. "I don''t have any reason to right now. It''s still being a cryptic asshole, and it was trying to get me to go back to the beacon. Hell no." He made a point of shoving half a potato into his mouth with exaggerated motions. Marlene raised an eyebrow at him. "I think you should. And I think you should do it while we have a few people watching you. Maybe a witness could sense or catch something about what you''re doing. It could help you get some answers, and it would help put the rest of us at ease." She held up a finger when Reid started talking through his potato. "You can keep chewing, Reid. This isn''t an interrogation. Finish your meal for god''s sake. I can fill you in on what''s happened in the two weeks you''ve been out." Reid choked on his potato. "I wazh out feh few weeks?" Marlene put a hand to her forehead. "For fuck''s sake, Reid. Shut up and chew." She walked Reid through recent events, holding up a finger every time he tried to ask questions. Susan had woken up shortly before he reached the beacon, and had actually been one of the first on-scene after Reid got knocked out. She''d organized a response to get him treated - with mundane and magical means. Even stitched together and covered in bandages, it had taken Susan nearly 10 hours to heal him. She expended so much energy doing it that she had to stop and rest four times before she was finished. But no matter what they tried, Reid hadn''t woken up. He was moved to the ''long-term-care'' room, and things progressed elsewhere in the camp. The tenth wave was a rough one without Reid there. Four defenders had suffered serious injury, and another three were dead. Marlene had gone straight from saving Reid to the defenders, and her leadership seemed to be the only reason they''d prevailed at all. Reid had wondered how Sanctuary was still standing after weeks of salamander assaults, but Marlene gave an answer before he could ask. The quest line hadn''t stopped while she was unconscious. They''d initially failed a kill quest in the woods, and that triggered the start of the attacks at Sanctuary. When an attack wave finished, Marlene would''ve normally had two hours to choose a new quest - except she couldn''t. So instead, a new attack wave immediately started at the end of the two hour window. Now that she was awake and able to select quests, they had a lot more breathing room. Defense waves - or hunt quests, if they wanted to try one - were on a two-day timer instead of a two-hour one. Reid kept his guilt to himself. If he''d been faster to get Marlene through the woods to Sanctuary, or if he''d waited to see Sara and Susan until Marlene was healed... he could''ve stopped the waves. He could have stopped people from dying. And because he could have stopped it, he was responsible for the deaths. Marlene didn''t seem to notice his internal struggle. Having a break from the waves allowed Marlene to explore more of her powers as Sanctuary''s leader. One of the things she found was directly related to quests. Because of their multiple high performance ratings, Marlene was sitting on a small mountain of bonus xp and quest-specific rewards that she could choose to dole out to any Sanctuary resident. Except Reid wasn''t recognized as a resident. She''d tried to find him in her options, but it only showed those that had used a beacon to awaken. She was still holding what she deemed Reid''s share of the rewards, for when he could get his awakening to work. They had also used the extra time to improve Sanctuary''s defenses. The outer wall was six times as thick and had extra spots for defenders. The wall itself was more durable, and Marlene seemed proud of the work they''d done there. Then, a second inner wall had been constructed. This one was thinner, but was created with fighting retreats in mind. It would still stand up to a decent amount of damage if it was needed. The third and final new piece of defense was a large open field that sat within the campground. Marlene had all of the reliably-running vehicles arrayed there in a massive, circular defensive formation, ringed by wooden spikes. Tow-behind campers and other tall vehicles that were unreliable or unable to move under their own power were makeshift battlements and defense platforms. A central square of RVs made up an impromptu command center, should they need it. According to Marlene, it would serve as their last line of defense, and a ready retreat. Most of the tactical discussion flew over his head, but Reid understood what Marlene really meant with the last bit. The waves arrived slower, but they were still coming, and they would continue. Marlene expected the waves to get bad enough that they would have to abandon Sanctuary altogether. Not that it might happen, but that it was inevitable. It was a distressing thing to think about. Marlene''s gaze felt like it was locked onto his soul as she continued. "So, if - or when - we need it, I''d like you to be one of those defenders, Reid. I want to ask you to be part of my core forces. I know you''ve fought like hell to get here, and I know you might be tired, but I need people I can rely on. You might be a bit crazy - jury''s still out on that one - but I hope you''ll accept the role." She paused. "And, thank you for bringing me back here, and for saving my ass back in the forest. When things finally go sideways here, I''ll make sure your family has priority evacuation, no matter what you say to my offer. Still, I owe you a debt for saving me, Reid. If there''s something else you want, ask." Reid thought through her words twice to make sure he understood them correctly. If - or when - the waves got too bad to handle, Marlene would prioritize Sara and Susan''s lives. They would escape, and they could run - and hopefully find safety somewhere else. Reid''s mind snapped to the scenes he''d imagined just before touching the beacon. Sara, walking onstage to get her diploma. Sara, celebrating her first real job, apartment, and house. Sara having kids, happy and laughing. He was certain some of those things would be impossible in this awakened reality, but he wanted what they represented - the brightest path for his daughter. Sure, Marlene would make sure they escaped, but there was a big difference between surviving and living. "I appreciate the offer, and I do have something to ask you. Just, hear me out for a minute." Reid leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "According to the system, I should''ve been dead before Earth awakened. I probably should''ve died again in the woods, and again at the beacon. My cancer is still there, and I know fuck-all about what''s going to happen to me tomorrow, or next week, or next month. I''m going to fight like hell, Marlene. I''m going to do everything I can to make sure that Susan and Sara do more than live. I''d tear my own arms off to ensure that they succeed in... whatever our world will become. So... I want to ask you for something a bit crazy" He leaned forward on the table and took a deep breath. "If I''m gone, for whatever reason, I want you to be that. To stand in for me, at least for Sara. I want you to be willing to lose your arm if it would make Sara''s life just a bit better. I want you to give her every possible advantage and boon and gift you can - not to keep her alive, but to make her life the best it could possibly be in this new, awakened world. I want you to give Sara all of the quest xp and rewards you''re holding for me. Then I want you to make decisions based on her future strength and her best interest. If you can do that, I''ll be part of your core team. I''ll consider us even for saving your life. But you have to put Sara first - every time. What do you say?" Marlene''s face was stone. Seconds ticked past. She gave a tiny, stiff nod. "I promise." CH 25: Three weeks + Reid + It had been three weeks since Marlene made her promise. The private conversation between the two of them had been followed by a very public, very loud reunion with Sara. His daughter had, unsurprisingly, refused to leave his side for the next few days. He even missed participating in a wave because she was insistent that she would go wherever he went. When Sara finally relented and let Reid have some time to himself, Susan took over monopolizing him. They talked, the worried together about the future, and Susan took a keen interest in Reid''s transformed physique. Reid was... very happy that he and Susan had a nearly-soundproof space to themselves. It was soon after that Reid re-joined the wall defenders - even though he dealt with more than a few objections from Sara. She''d actually gotten a bit mean at that point, but Reid let it slide. He wasn''t going to tell her about Marlene''s promise. If she knew he was helping now so that she would have support when he was gone, she might''ve flown into another fit. Reid tried to keep in mind that his daughter was still young, and she needed time to adjust to things. Marlene had limited him to only killing half of each wave, at maximum. Her intention was to prevent any more difficulty increases - and to ensure other people were able to level up. So far, it was working. James was no longer on Reid''s shit list. According to Susan, the man had literally prostrated himself in apology to her, and he had been on his best behavior around both Susan and Sara since then. James started training Reid, and he''d asked the man to train Sara as well. James was a good instructor. He knew how to make someone improve their movements - and he damn well knew how to teach them to fight. Reid, on the other hand, was a poor student and hadn''t improved much. Just like that, days ticked past. He spent time with his family, training, or defending the campground. Reid earned something of a reputation for his strength and performance in the defender circles, and it spread to just about everywhere else. Susan had fewer injuries to heal, so she''d been testing and exploring different parts of her skill. Her most exciting moment so far was healing a pet bird that had long since had its wings clipped. Her radiant smile as the bird flew away was burned into his memory. Sara was still doing what seemed like a million odd tasks for everyone in the campground. She''d found Reid boxes of old clothes that fit him, found fruit trees and some wild plants in the forest that were edible and helped push their food stocks longer, and she''d even gotten him a new pair of boots. The boots were - not the greatest. Something about the left sole felt wrong in a way he couldn''t verbalize, and nothing he did seemed to fix it. But they were a gift from his daughter, so Reid had smiled and thanked her anyway. His family''s notoriety and usefulness created quite a bit of demand for his sparse remaining free time. Many people just wanted to know who he was. Many saw knowing him as a way to ''gain power'' in the Sanctuary hierarchy. Some came claiming they had miracle cures for his cancer. To avoid all of those opportunists, Reid found himself gravitating towards the few people he actually enjoyed spending time with. He and Louis had grown closer. He''d checked up on the boy''s mental health multiple times, and felt Louis was making a really good recovery. Especially once Reid got him removed from the wall defender team. Reid kept telling the boy embarrassing stories about his own youth, and Louis was finally responding with honest laughter. He asked Reid questions that Reid was entirely unqualified to answer, and Reid gave him the best advice he could think of. Louis deserved to be happy, and Reid was committed to seeing him stay that way. Somehow they had plenty of beer and liquor left in the campground, so Warren''s was still open. Reid, James, Mark, and Lowell often celebrated there after finishing off a wave. Mark had gone overboard ''improving'' Reid''s mug - which now sported intricate wood filigree, a relief of Reid''s face, and an ever-growing collection of kill marks. Mark still talked too much, but he had been listening more - and the man ensured that Reid never paid for a single drink. Lowell was... quiet. He had both his hands back and seemed content, but he rarely spoke about himself or anyone else. Marlene made sure he ran tests, so she could gather more information. There was a healing test, where Reid willingly had various body parts damaged. Susan then used her power to inspect Reid while he knitted himself back together with the painful, burning method. According to Susan, there were major differences between her healing and what he had done - but she couldn''t quite figure out how it worked. Others tried to repeat Reid''s healing or mimic the ability - but none succeeded. The testing had, at least, confirmed the downside of Reid''s healing. It knocked Reid out for a deceptively long ''recovery nap'' - which explained how he''d lost track of time in the forest. On the upside, Susan could use her healing to effectively eliminate his post-heal rest period. The other test - the one that was actually painful - was for the Shackle. Reid had unmuted the thing, and tried his best to tune it out. It was almost manic in its demands to get him to go back to the beacon - and descended toward actual mania when he summarily ignored it. None of the twenty watchers noticed any changes or fluctuations in his magic, or soul, or whatever else they claimed to be looking at. Marlene had asked for multiple tests, and Reid very unhappily obliged. The end result was the same as his healing. No one quite knew what was going on, and no one could replicate it. So, he was spending time with his family - in all the best ways. He considered some of the people in Sanctuary his friends. He was fighting - which he found he actually enjoyed a little now that he wasn''t in the woods. He raised his level, and his stats - and thanks to Susan, had greatly reduced his recovery period for power growth. He''d defended against waves 19 through 28. Even with Marlene''s kill limit, his status screen was starting to look impressive.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 7 -> 9 Health: 150 -> 200 Experience: 2,389 -> 8,059 / 12,800 STATS: Constitution: 15 -> 20 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 19 -> 24 Control: 38 -> 48 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The only issue for Reid and anyone else at Sanctuary was food. Toby and Walt''s parents had been amateur ''preppers'', which meant they''d stocked food and supplies to keep their family alive in a post-civilization-collapse event. But Sanctuary was an entire community, so the stores of supplies dwindled fast. They hadn''t found a way to render salamander meat non-toxic, which meant the camp needed new sources of food to keep them alive. Fishing and gathering didn''t do nearly enough to sustain them, and hunting proved useless - there was no wild game they could find or catch. Farming would take too long - though they''d started making gardens. Food might grow eventually - especially since the weather was unseasonably warm. But they needed a solution for the near-term. That left the tried-and-true option of scavenging. There was little in the immediate area, so they''d started to make longer journeys. Sara had insisted on using her skill to help, and it had been nothing short of miraculous. She''d found a canning factory in the middle of the woods that had beans and a few other lines of food products. It had been enough to fill two RVs with food stock. The factory in the woods was, unfortunately, part of the new normal. Earth was definitely changed. Roads didn''t connect. Bridges were broken over most rivers. But Sara always managed to find a path the scavengers could drive through. She''d even navigated a scavenger group to the remains of what was once a small town''s main road. The team hadn''t fully gone through it yet, but they''d emptied out the diner and the gas station so far. Reid had gone out on the first few runs, but as they moved farther from Sanctuary it became impossible to both do the runs and defend the walls. Reid agreed to let Sara continue on as long as Marlene or James were on the scavenging trips, too. Somehow, they still hadn''t run into any salamanders outside the walls, or any other form of trouble. So it had been a good three weeks. Things were going well.
+> Sara <+ Sara paced around the field. She was exasperated, with herself and with her skill. She had so much to be happy for, but her mood was sour. Dad was back - and he seemed stronger and healthier than ever. But right after he got back, he''d almost gotten killed and was unconscious for two weeks. And in between those two things happening, both her parents had informed her that, yeah, they were hiding stuff from her, and oh yeah, it was that dad was going to die. She''d known something was wrong. But she hadn''t wanted to guess - because what if she had guessed wrong? So instead, she just went along with it, and tried to be mature. Hearing about the cancer, out in the open - was awful. And shitty. But she hadn''t started crying - not right away. Her skill had led her to the bathroom, and she broke down in there. She hated herself for being so - selfish. But she still couldn''t stop from latching onto her dad again when he woke up from the beacon incident. She wanted to be mature, but she failed so completely. She clenched and unclenched her fists just thinking about it. Partway through a heated conversation with her parents, they''d said something about her age, and she''d snapped back that she was older than the two of them had been when she was born. Then she made some comment about never being a normal family, and another shitty response to something they said about responsibility by reminding dad that he was a felon. It was all childish, and hurtful, and she didn''t really mean it but she couldn''t take it back now that it was said. Because she couldn''t take it back, she decided to make it right with her skill. People loved it when she used her skill - almost all the time. She''d found an earring that an old lady was missing, and a metal tin some guy wanted, and even found fruit and food for the whole camp. Everyone was always happy when they got what she found for them. But she''d messed up with her dad. She found clothes in his new size- up in Walt''s attic. Walt''s grandfather was... well he was fat, and his clothes fit her dad. But they were all super old, and some were damaged. So the only good box was a bunch of Champion branded stuff. And a 4xl plastic rain poncho. Dad said it was all great and useful, but she wasn''t sure he meant it. She was pretty sure it was one of the nice lies he used to make her feel better. What definitely actually happened, though, was that all the stupid boys on the wall had started calling him "Champion Man", and even when she told them to cut it out, they still called him "Champion", and now everyone in Sanctuary called dad Champion and it was her fault. Then she''d made it even worse. Her dad talked about boots a lot since he got to Sanctuary, so she made it her mission to find him the perfect pair - and of course she used her skill. The ones she found were in great shape, and they had to be right because her skill led her to them. Except they were terrible. She saw it on her dad''s face when he put them on. Even though he said they were good - she knew what he looked like when he was disappointed in something. And he was disappointed in the boots. And he was too stubborn to say he didn''t like them, so now he wore them all the time. It was like her skill was malfunctioning, but only for dad. It didn''t come with an instruction manual, and sometimes it was hard to understand what it really meant. One time, it led her to a REALLY bad-smelling fish thing, but the person she brought it to was happy that she''d handed them a half-rotted fish thing, so that was okay. But she couldn''t understand what was happening now. She was pacing a circle in the ''final-stand-field'', as everyone had taken to calling it. It was a giant ring of cars and campers and other stuff, all in a huge flat area inside the walls. The spot she was in was a few hundred feet in front of the ''command center''. For all she could tell, she was standing in a totally normal patch of grass and dirt. Except it should be more. She''d prompted her skill for a way to make her dad survive longer. She wanted to know how to ensure he stayed around for years and years to come. It was an abstract thing, but abstract things had worked for the skill before. Every time, every prompt about keeping dad around longer or having him live longer just led to this patch of grass. She walked on it so much in the last few weeks, the grass had all died off. She kicked at the bare dirt with her shoe. It wasn''t fair. Her skill was so much more useful for everyone else, and all she wanted to do was help her dad. Even though she''d stuck him with a terrible nickname and crappy boots and she was awful to him, he kept doing things for her. He had James teach her how to fight, and he had Marlene give her all those experience points, but she hadn''t done anything for him. Her kicks to the dirt got more violent. The skill was supposed to be GOOD. Like really good. She brought it up and read it to herself again.
Pathfinder [Rare] Scales with Level. Know the way to reach your goal. Advanced practitioners can prompt the skill and apply it to others. Highly advanced practitioners can link multiple goals and paths.
The skill felt like her gut feeling was sentient, and guiding her, but it couldn''t tell her exactly where she was going, or why. And that was why this was all so frustrating. It could even do things nobody else knew about - not even her parents. She''d wanted to tell them, but her skill seemed opposed to that, so she didn''t. And now she didn''t want to share that secret because it had become a bigger secret. Dad wasn''t the only one that had something weird happen at the beacon. As soon as she''d touched the crystal, her skill instructed her to do weird stuff. She had changed around a contract, and denied that contract, and then she had a new contract pop up, and her skill guided her to change that one, and then had her sign that one. She had no idea what that had really meant until Marlene distributed her dad''s points. People were supposed to get 3 stat points per level, and levels had set experience you needed, and everyone got the same xp. But she was different. It had taken an entire night reading through her contract, but she figured out what the differences were. Whenever she earned experience, some company thing matched whatever she earned. She earned 5 stat upgrade points each level, and she got bonuses in stat points and experience for hitting certain goals. The downside, if she read it right, was that she needed to become royalty in a hundred years or she''d owe the company a bunch of interest. It was a great deal. The 5,000 xp she got from Marlene - her dad''s xp - had turned into 10,000 because of the contract, and then she''d gotten another 2500 xp as a bonus for reaching level 5, which turned into 5,000 because of the contract, and then another 5,000 xp bonus because she''d hit level 10, which turned into 10,000 because of the contract. She was sitting at level ten, and close to gaining another level. With 11 points in each of the five stats, she was probably stronger, and tougher, and had more health that most people in the camp. But she couldn''t say anything, because then people would know she''d done something to the beacon, and that maybe that''s why her dad got hurt. And she also didn''t want to tell anyone because her skill made her feel like that was a bad idea. Her thoughts were interrupted when her foot connected with part of a rock and threw her off balance. She tried to pick up the rock and throw it. When it didn''t budge, she dug around it with her hands. She wanted to yank it out of the ground and hurl it away to the trees. She was strong now - she could do that even if the rock was huge. But she was inches down into the soil, and dirt was under her fingernails, and the rock was still too heavy and too stuck to move. Just like so many other things - she failed to do what she wanted. She glared at the rock, and walked away. # In the middle of a field, a few hundred feet from some RVs, an unremarkable rock was rooted in the ground. A few inches of its surface were exposed where soil had been scraped away. It was barely enough for someone to trip on - and really, what were the chances of that? CH 26: Potential
+ Reid + Reid spat out a mouthful of sand. He snarled, and rose to his feet. His anger hadn''t been an issue in recent battles - they were all too easy to draw his rage. But this training was making him simmer and tested the limits of his self-control. "I can''t believe you''re still so bad at this." James shook his head, and shot a hand out to catch his aviators as they slipped off his face. He folded them and put them into his shirt''s breast pocket. "Weeks, Reid. Weeks without improvement." Reid threw a fist forward at James. He had to actively try to slow himself down and not put his full weight behind the strike - after all, he didn''t actually want to kill the man. Probably. The infuriating combat instructor turned the blow with his palm and kicked Reid again in the back of the knee. Reid was once more sent to the ground, where he spat out another mouthful of sand and rolled to his back. A grunt of frustration escaped his lips, followed by a long sigh. He needed to take a break before his anger got the best of him. Bits of sand were still falling away from his face. "Why don''t we practice in grass? There''s so much grass." James shook his head. "Because you were fine with getting knocked down in the grass. Hence this convenient little beach. Eat enough sand and you might actually try to improve." "I am trying." Reid growled out the words. James sat down cross-legged next to Reid and handed him a metal water bottle. "No, Reid, you''re not. I shouldn''t be able to beat you so easily." Reid went up on one elbow. "You''re only beating me because I have to hold myself back." He wiped his mouth clean, then took a long swig of water. James looked at him in the same way Marlene sometimes did - like he was staring directly at Reid''s soul. "Reid, what happens when you can''t kill someone?" The question was so odd and simple, it felt obvious. "If I can''t win a fight, I guess I''d have to retreat so I don''t die." James blinked. "No, no. What happens when you have to restrain someone, or fight them to a standstill. What happens when you run into a situation where you can''t just pummel the problem to death?" Reid put a hand on his chin, absentmindedly wiping away more grains of sand. "I''d figure something out, I''m sure." "We''ve been at this for - what''s today, Friday?" He looked down at his watch. "Friday. So we''ve been working at this for three weeks. And you''re not using anything I''ve taught you properly. I know that you know how to do the moves. I know what you''re like when we spar, and I know what you''re actually capable of when you fight monsters. I know you have the potential to do so much more." "Force and effort - they''re a spectrum. You don''t hold an egg with the same grip strength you''d use to open a stubborn jar. And you wouldn''t hold a coffee cup as lightly as an egg or as strongly as the jar. Except when you fight, Reid - there''s no middle ground. It''s either egg, or it''s jar. You''re either going for the kill and fighting mostly on instinct, or you''re entirely ineffective. You need to find your middle ground - your coffee cup. Something in between fighting like a maniac and trying to be so soft that you''re missing hits." James nodded at his own words and sprang to his feet. He held out a hand and pulled Reid up as well. "Now, show me your coffee cup." Reid snorted. "My coffee cup. You are, without a doubt, the worst teacher ever. Like a cheap knock-off of some action movie''s wise master." "And you''re a maniac." James retorted. "You''re a barista-themed sensei." "Meathead." "Grandmaster bastard." "Barbarian." "Fuck you, James. You''re a dick." "And you''re an asshole. Now hit me." Reid threw a punch. It connected.
~ Marlene ~ Marlene arched an eyebrow at her husband. He had let out another loud groan, and was working his jaw back and forth with a wince. "Who knew inciting our Champion to deck you in the face would be a bad idea." She said dryly. "You''re lucky Susan had enough time to put your jaw back on and regrow your teeth." A few chuckles sounded out from those around the table. Reid was blushing and rubbing the back of his head - both for the injury, and because of the nickname. Marlene loved it. Champion was a moniker that would solidify Reid''s place in her hierarchy as a fighter, and not a leader. Reid was, without any shadow of a doubt, Sanctuary''s strongest warrior. Marlene had seen enough to know that many people would naturally gravitate to strength of arms over strength of leadership. And she was not going to have people looking to Reid for any decision making. So the organic nickname had helped her stop that problem in its tracks. One of today''s agenda items would cement it in place. She waved a hand for silence. "That brings us into our first topic. Reid lacks an official title, and I''m keen on keeping the tradition of allowing you all to vote and bring up ideas for positions." Heads nodded around the table. Titles were mostly window dressing - but giving people a voice here, meant she had more leeway to wholly control other areas. People always loved the idea of having a real impact, after all. "So, while I know ''Champion'' is the obvious choice, I''ll open things up for anyone that wants to put forward an idea for Reid''s official role." The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. A few murmurs went up between people in the room. Their group was arrayed around a square of folding tables, sitting in folding chairs. She was the only one on her feet. "Sleeping Beauty! Ya know, cause he slept for two weeks!" Mark called from the far corner of the square. The man''s face was already red - Marlene made a mental note to hide the alcohol on their upcoming trip - and to give him enough work that he had to stay sober. Mark''s incredible humor got a single laugh. From Reid. "What about head warrior?" Lowell had a hand in the air as he spoke. A few assenting murmurs spread. That couldn''t be it. Head warrior implied that Reid would lead other defenders or warriors as part of his everyday role. She wanted him to be seen as a singular operative. "That sounds a little primal to me." Marlene planted the seed of association to one of the many words that set Reid on edge. He balked at her comment. Good - now he should shoot that idea down himself if it started to gain traction. There was a long silence. Marlene stopped herself from smiling. Holding her meetings and votes early in the morning made it so much easier to control the discussions - everyone was tired, subdued, and thankfully short on ideas. "All right, sounds like those are our choices. Let''s just do a show of hands for Champion... and now for Head Warrior... and for Sleeping Beauty." The vast majority voted for Champion. She stifled another smile. "There we have it. Reid, you are officially Sanctuary''s Champion. Congratulations." Some polite, enthusiastic applause went up in the room. James stopped rubbing his jaw long enough to slap Reid on the back. Marlene let everything play out until the energy subsided. "Alright! Next up, a change to our next scavenger run." She rapped a finger against the chalkboard behind her. "Sara thinks she''s onto something important, a ways East of here. To reach it, we''ve got to cross a river - one that we can''t easily get over with just soil and rock manipulators. So - Mark" She made a show of pointing to the man. "Is going to accompany us on this trip, and he''s going to do some bridge building. Between travel time and construction time, we expect to be gone for a minimum of 3 days. That means the defenders are going to have at least one wave where Mark will not be here to patch up the walls. It might end up being two or three waves before we''re back, if we hit any snags." She saw the unease drift around the room, and slapped a hand against the board to regain attention. "I''ll be out with the scavengers while James stays here to lead the defenders. And don''t forget, you have Sanctuary''s Champion to repel the beasts off the walls. He''s doing half the work, every time. I hope some of the other people in this room can step up while we''re gone and give Reid a bit of a challenge." A few eyes seemed to light up at that. Good - she needed interest - but she could get more. She grabbed a wooden crate hidden behind the chalkboard and set it down on the table. Bottles rattled. "And to add some real stakes - last scavenging trip netted us this lovely set of assorted bourbons. Anyone that gains a level while I''m gone gets to pick an entire bottle for themselves - BUT!" She held up a finger. It drew everyone''s attention from the crate back to her. She slowly took two bottles out and put them on the table, then pointed to them and read off labels as she made her point. "Whoever earns the most experience gets to go first. And you''ll continue in order of most experience after that. So putting in a bit of extra effort could be the difference between a bottle of Woodford Reserve or... James Earl''s Rapid Aged Pepper Wood Batch." She made a face - it really sounded like it would be disgusting. "So that''s what''s on the line. Plus, I''d like Reid to eventually be able to join us on scavenger runs - and that means the rest of you need to step it up anyway." She had James put the bottles and crate away as she walked back to the chalkboard. She brought everyone''s attention to the "29" written out in block letters. "Our convoy will exit as soon as the 29th wave is cleared. Even if you are not going, pay attention to where we''re headed. Everyone in this room should have an idea of where to find us, should they need to." Marlene guided them through the details, calling their attention where she could, and arranging for a coffee cart when everyone really started to drag. When her overview was done, James stood to walk the group through the defensive plan for the coming waves. Marlene already knew everything he was saying, so she let her mind drift. Lately, all her spare time spent in consideration was spent on Sara. She''d taken an early interest in the girl - then she''d sworn to her mother that she would protect Sara - and now she''d promised Reid that she would support Sara. Technically, her agreement to Reid was to help Sara if he died - but she wasn''t interested in waiting for that. She had started to build Sara''s skills even before those promises were made, and their recent scavenger runs were the girl''s first real lessons. They were opportunities for Marlene to coach Sara''s decision making, hone the girl''s instincts, and get her to more heavily use her skill. It had shown good results. On their first outing, Sara had passed all her navigation recommendations through Marlene. On the most recent one, she''d directly commanded the vehicle column. She''d also gotten bolder at thinking for herself - and showed an adept understanding of when to share information, and when to keep secrets. Marlene had seen Sara approach her parents multiple times with a determined look on her face, only to change direction at the last moments. The girl was fighting with the decision to come clean about something, and Marlene wanted to know what that was. A simple identify gave her all she needed to know. The only xp Sara had gotten was from the quest rewards - quest rewards that Marlene had distributed herself. She knew exactly how much she''d given the girl. But Sara''s experience was much higher than it should''ve been. She''d come up with enough possible theories to fill two pages of a notebook, then logically eliminated all but one. That theory was Sara had a different contract than everyone else. Marlene added a guess that she would keep getting experience at an accelerated rate compared to her peers. The possibilities had kept Marlene up at night - and she rushed out the next day to test the theory. Marlene had kept 1,000 bonus xp for an emergency reserve. She caught Sara alone, prompted her for answers, and awarded the girl a single experience point. Identify showed Sara''s total rose by two. Marlene told the girl not to lie - that she''d watched it happen, and needed to know what was going on. That had cracked the wall, and Sara broke down and told Marlene everything. Marlene listened like any good mentor and guardian would. And so she learned that Sara had experience doubling, in exchange for becoming royalty in a hundred years. That meant not only that Sara would amass power at a greater rate, but that she would likely live longer than a normal human, and be on the fast-track to leadership. The thought of Sara''s future sent jolts of excitement through Marlene, even now. Ideas flashed and faded in her mind - how to help Sara kill beasts. Where to have her invest her stat points for more efficient progression over time. How to get the girl xp from using her skill, like Mark could. Anything that might grow her power. The Calderwall family were all exceptional. Susan was a force of nature. Reid was an absolute monster. But they both lacked the mindset to use their powers to become something grand. Their daughter - with Marlene''s coaching - had started to develop the mindset of a true leader. With her potential for power growth, Sara could be indomitable. The thoughts solidified into a singular goal. Marlene would build Sara into a titan - a commander - a queen. Ch 27: Transformation \.,., Bertrand ,.,./ It had been two days since the RV convoy had left through the wooden fortress''s front gate. Bertrand wanted to approach the fortress then, but instinct told him the timing wasn''t right. Bertrand was an accomplished man. He had escaped the mediocrity of his family, attended a mostly-prestigious university, and used his innate sense of timing to succeed in business, and in life. He had a knack for knowing exactly when to push to close a sale, or when to advance or break a relationship. His sense of timing also helped him - later in life - to know when to run for local office. Throughout his life he built and bought what could only be described as a small fiefdom - where he ran his town''s politics and owned most of the businesses. His sense of timing even told him when he should start a family - and when he could start taking mistresses. So when the world awakened, he listened to his sense of inner timing again, and was the one to claim his beacon. He''d named it Bertland, after his son''s nickname for his home office - which was still better than the town''s original name. But - Bertrand had reasoned - if he could own one beacon, why not two? He couldn''t be mayor of two towns, but he could be governor over a multitude. So he sent his people out to ''discover'' the wonders of their changed Earth. Surveyors flowed out of Bertland like an open faucet. They blanketed the area, killed beasts, and discovered peculiar geography that mixed the old world with new landscapes. Bertrand''s area map steadily grew - and so did his surveyors. Through killing beasts - the surveyors had gained the strength of bodybuilders and the finesse of acrobats. One of his most loyal men had senses so acute, Bertrand could whisper across a room and the man would hear it. Bertrand wanted those gifts - after all, a governor always needed power. He made his first kill surrounded by his guards, without his skill. Two bullets brought it down - and Bertrand felt something... new. He''d watched the light die out from the creature''s eyes, and swore he could feel the thing''s energy become his own. It was stunningly beautiful - a transformation, where one light died out to empower another. He wanted to feel it again. Bertrand diligently helped his people kill the remaining beasts in their immediate surroundings. Then he pushed them to explore further. Many of his surveyors never returned, but those that did were making truly interesting discoveries. One found an abandoned gun store that let them equip nearly every person with a firearm. Another located a museum - which just so happened to have a set of plate armor in Bertrand''s size. Ten days after the awakening, the real prize was discovered. Only a day''s walk away, there was a high-security prison - with a beacon. Bertrand wanted their beacon in a way he couldn''t describe. He wanted to grow his influence and his power. But his people were still reserved and timid. It was their first contact with another group post-awakening, so he played to their sensibilities. A representative was sent to talk trade and alliance. His envoy met the prison''s leader, and dutifully did his job. Not the work of trade agreements - but of mapping out the settlement''s layout, and gathering information on its people. In an unsurprising outcome, the prisoners had killed the guards, and one particularly violent individual was in charge of the settlement. Bertrand made sure to pass that bit of knowledge around to his people. It worked to stir unease in the town - unease that Bertrand could transform to violence. He just needed a sacrificial pawn. He sent his newest mistress as the next envoy to the prisoners. She wasn''t exactly beautiful, but she was a good-looking young woman. It would have been nice to keep her around for his entertainment, but he took comfort in knowing her end would further his goals. He sent three guards with her - two useless imbeciles and one of his true followers. His plan worked. Only the one good guard made it back - and the... unfortunate fate of the second envoy and her other two guards was passed through the town. The story stoked the growing fires of resentment. Bertrand gathered his people, and whipped that resentment into a sense of righteous fury with a single, impassioned speech. The crowd gathered their guns and ammunition - and set out to march on the prison. The most difficult part of the entire ordeal was getting his people to wait for the right moment to launch the actual attack. When they finally laid siege to the settlement, the prisoners were slaughtered and the beacon was his. Two discoveries that day solidified Bertrand''s path. First was the slaughter. Killing beasts gave everyone a decent amount of experience, but it paled in comparison to the experience they earned by killing other humans. Where a level 1 beast might net them anywhere from 1 to 5 xp, a level 1 human rewarded them with 100 xp. Bertrand reveled in the discovery - and the feeling. Killing beasts felt wonderful. But when a person''s dying light transformed into his power - Bertrand felt divine. The second discovery happened when Bertrand touched the beacon - and gained a quest from the system itself. Conqueror - Acquire control of new Beacons to grow Bertland''s influence (1/3) Those discoveries made the truth of the new world clear. The system wanted them to kill, and it wanted Bertrand to conquer. He was only happy to oblige. He built a core force of warriors that shared his mindset on conquest and death. His surveyors found more beacons - and his army marched out to bring them under Bertrand''s control. He spent weeks in a cycle of discovery, slaughter, and growth. When days passed without a new beacon to conquer, Bertrand advanced by transforming the weak. There was so much beauty in the transformation. A level 2 sweeper, or cook, or cleaner was nothing on their own - but they could become Bertrand''s strength, through death. He picked from the old, the weak, and the listless. The system even gave him a skill perfect for his needs.
Puppeteer [Uncommon] Scales with level. Exert physical control over lower-leveled living beings in near proximity. Advanced practitioners can more easily take and exert control. Highly advanced practitioners can control more than one being at a time. Stolen novel; please report.
The skill took a bit of trial and error, but Bertrand had learned to grab control of someone from over 30 feet away. He''d learned how to make people walk without falling - and learned that he needed to make them breathe while he exerted control, or they''d suffocate. With his skill, he''d been able to make the town''s dregs walk to his doorstep. It was perfect. His last one - already three days ago - was an old, frail man he''d seen at the post office a few times before the awakening. The man had received a skill for making tea, of all things - and reached level 7 through brewing and serving. Tea would never win a fight or grow an empire, so Bertrand selected him. When he puppeted the man, he had to learn another new quirk of control - how to keep someone upright while they walked with a cane. That old man''s transformation had been a brilliant, euphoric event - one that pushed Bertrand to level 12 and cemented his status as the strongest amongst his men. Even with his newfound power and skill, the thing that set Bertrand apart was his innate sense of timing. He knew the right moment to approach a settlement, and the right time to attack. He knew when to push for capitulation, and where to pretend he was interested in trade. His latest quest was to take over beacons while only killing up to 40% of the settlement''s population. His sense for timing had already helped him figure out the perfect time to strike once, and he''d taken hostages to force the rest to turn over control. He was about to enact the same plan again. All he needed to do was make a show of force, then use trade talks to get access to the settlement. From there, he could figure out which people he could use for leverage - and where the beacon was. "It''s time to advance." He announced. To his right, his scout''s eyes focused on the structure and the small fight taking place there. "Bert, those things look nasty as hell. Only headshots are putting ''em down. They''ve got high walls and heavy hitters. If they''re not struggling, we can''t be saviors. We might be better off picking a different target." Bertrand snorted. "No, now is the right time. You saw the caravan they sent out. I need to make contact with them before their scavengers stumble on one of my towns. It''s time to show our power, and talk trade. I''ll convince them to let us camp inside the walls, and the beacon is as good as mine." Another lackey, as large as a bull, chuckled from his other side. "Bertrand the magnanimous, come to transform another weary settlement. You are a bringer of light, boss."
+ Reid + Shouts, magic, and salamander screeches filled the warm afternoon air. Reid paced the battlement with a frown. He pulled down the hood of his blood-tinted poncho and ran a hand through his hair. Wave 29 was on them, and Reid was doing his best to not kill anything. It wasn''t his first choice. He had a long way to go before he would hit level 10, and while ''getting to double digits'' was unlikely to actually change his situation, he was hopeful that something would come of it. But he held back - for Marlene and for the future of their campground. She had asked him for a simple favor - help the rest of the defenders get stronger. Instead of ''hogging'' half of the wave like he normally did, Reid tried for nonlethal throws that would cripple the beasts. Marlene was right, of course. If they could get their people stronger, the defending force of Sanctuary would truly transform. The waves weren''t stopping - which meant everyone desperately needed to get stronger. Reid also wanted to be able to join Sara on the scavenger runs - and for that to happen, he needed the defenders to be capable of resisting a wave on their own. Another reason danced in the back of his brain. He needed the defenders to be able to protect the camp if Reid dropped dead. Susan''s inspections were still showing that the cancer was still there - though it neither grew nor shrank. So Reid had set up their residents for a transformative wave by offering them ''easy'' kills. Nearly the entire wave had been crippled by his stones. Reid only killed two salamanders - and only because they''d started to damage the walls. The rest were penned in and peppered by the defenders until they fell, and the group was making good work of the beasts. Soon enough, only four salamanders remained, and James called for the defenders to switch to the new end-wave tactic. It was both a plan and a test, where the most inexperienced fighters would attempt to finish off the final beasts. The plan was the newest members of their fighting force would gain combat experience, and much needed experience points. The test was all about the length of time between waves. When they finished fighting off a wave, Marlene got the prompt to pick the next quest. But that prompt always waited until the current wave was finished. Reid had tried to game the timers back in wave 26, when he chopped the limbs off the final salamander, then kept it alive. But the system seemed to recognize that the threat was gone. After a few minutes of the beast struggling on the ground, the defense quest was counted as completed, and the timer started counting down. Reid hoped the same thing wouldn''t end up happening with the new tactic. The newbies were inexperienced. They''d struggle, even to kill the wounded beasts. So it stood to reason that the system might recognize the wave still ''posed a threat''. Reid put his hands in his pockets and crossed his fingers. The inexperienced defenders entirely missed most of their shots, throws, and magic attacks. The more experienced defenders cheered them on all the while, and erupted in celebration when one teenager put an arrow directly through a salamander''s eye. The rest of the newbies sent attacks at the final three salamanders with a renewed effort, but hadn''t managed to kill any more of the creatures. Meanwhile, the salamanders had regrown most of their limbs, and were starting to advance on the wall. As Reid walked back towards his rock pile, a commotion sounded out from the forest. Shouts drifted in on the wind, indistinct but full of vigor. A group of nearly a hundred men broke out from the tree line - and charged the Salamanders. They held a mix of makeshift weapons and metal blades, and some had magic concentrated in their hands. A few wore actual metal armor, but most were in plain clothing. Regardless of their garments, Reid knew these people had not fought salamanders. No one who had done so would willingly charge them in an open field - with any number, even if the beasts were wounded. Reid added his voice to the growing group of defenders shouting for the new arrivals to turn back, but it had no effect. The three salamanders turned, and rushed towards the new source of prey. James swore and grabbed a battery-powered bullhorn. It whined when he thumbed the power on. "Stay back - these are dangerous beasts! They won''t go down unless you destroy the brain!" The approaching group continued their charge. Reid watched the salamanders close the distance, and winced. Most of the men''s magic spells were shot too late, and didn''t do nearly enough damage. The salamanders advanced into the men''s ranks, and crystal claws tore through blades, bats and shields. The newcomers screamed as they took injuries, and lost limbs. Reid was about ready to jump down and help them when the tide of the fight changed. A black-haired man in polished full plate armor sauntered towards a salamander. As he neared the thing, the salamander froze, and the men close by shoved swords into its eye sockets. It fell to the ground, limp. A second salamander froze when he neared it - and the surrounding men took that one down in short order as well. The final salamander froze as he approached, and the surrounding men all backed away. The black-haired man produced a sword from his back, swung straight down at the salamander''s skull - and jumped back as the impact bent the blade. He eyed his weapon for a few seconds and tossed it aside. Then he pulled off his gleaming gauntlets and threw them into the dirt. The man balled a fist - and killed the last salamander by punching through its skull. CH 28: Posturing Reid looked out at the man, standing proudly victorious amongst the three dead salamanders. He smiled and walked forward towards the wall, not bothering to retrieve his grieves or his damaged sword. The familiar sign of glowing healing magic lit up from different parts of the group, and Reid saw the most grievously wounded individuals be slowly mended. The man didn''t spare any of that so much as a glance. He simply walked forward with a smile. Reid and James shared a look. The scenario they were in was so outlandish, they hadn''t even prepared a plan for it. They had a playbook of sorts, mostly written by Marlene. She had written out how to respond to a number of different potential situations when meeting external groups. If a group arrived full of wounded, there was a plan to set up a healing tent outside the walls so Susan could use her skill - under heavy guard, of course. If people came to them while being chased by beasts, they were to evaluate the situation - then attack at range if the danger was high, or send out a group to defeat the beasts if the risks were manageable. The potential scenarios filled nearly two notebooks, but every plan had two rules they all shared. First, whoever they encountered were not allowed inside the walls. Not unless Marlene gave her assent. Second, anyone from Sanctuary that interacted with the outsiders were to keep all Sanctuary information secret. Any talk of skills, defenses, and even supplies were to be avoided wherever possible. There was no plan for a group that threw themselves into one of Sanctuary''s waves. James shook his head and turned off the bullhorn, then turned to Lowell. "Get me a card table and a pair of folding chairs. If these people want to act like this is a normal way to meet, we''ll treat them like a trade envoy." Lowell ran off, and Reid couldn''t help but hear James mutter under his breath. "Alright James, just like playing poker." # The folding chairs and table were repositioned multiple times before they found a solid patch of ground. On one side of the table, James sat while Reid and Lowell stood, flanking him. On the other side of the table, the man named Bertrand sat in his polished armor, an empty scabbard on his back, and a knife strapped to his arm. He had long, jet-black hair that was slicked back flat on his scalp. His cleanshaven face was conventionally handsome, and age had only started to show where a bit of skin sagged on his strong jaw. Bertrand had also brought along two men - whom he didn''t introduce. One was tall and thin, covered in soft-looking clothing. He was twitching every so often, and his eyes darted around the Sanctuary representatives like he was trying to catch every shift and movement they made. The other... looked like an industrial refrigerator had grown arms. He stood mostly still, and kept his eyes on Reid. James and Bertrand had gone through basic introductions - and Bertrand refused the healing aid James offered. They were just starting to get into actual discussion. James clicked a pen and his hand hovered over a blank notebook. "Do you mind if I take notes?" Bertrand flashed a smile. "Not at all, I have to jot stuff down sometimes, too." "Alright. So Bertrand, where did you and your people come from? We''ve been exploring our surroundings but we haven''t stumbled on your settlement yet." Bertrand smiled again. "Don''t judge - but our settlement is called Bertland. My son came up with it. We got lucky - with an abundance of people, and resources. I was the mayor of the town before the awakening, you know? So I guess you could say I''m doing my part to try and rebuild civilization here. That''s why I''ve been actively looking for other settlements for a while now - most choose to ally with us, some just want to trade. There are more than a few beacons in the area, though you all are a bit out of the way. We actually came straight here from solidifying an alliance with a new group we just met last week. I''d like to talk about alliances with you later, if you''re open to it." The pen scratched over the page. "Did you happen to bring anyone from that settlement with you? We''d love to make contact with the other groups in the area." Reid could''ve sworn he saw a frown flash over Bertrand''s face. "I have to say no to that - like I told you, those groups are allied with me, so I''m speaking on their behalf. Part of my job is also about their security. We''ve just met, so I''m not going to divulge too many details about the other beacons. In fact, I think I''ve answered enough questions to ask a few of my own." The chuckle that came out of the man sounded genuine. "Would you be able to let us make camp inside the walls for the night? Those beasts were damn vicious, and I''d like to avoid losing any of my men to monsters in the dark." He waited for James to stop writing, then interrupted James just as he started to speak. "And we''ve got our own tents, so we''d only need a bit of flat ground." Reid could feel James fighting to keep his voice even and firm. "I''m afraid not - no one is allowed inside on their first visit. We can find you a flat space out here to set up in, though." Reid caught another flitting shadow pass over Bertrand. "It''s disappointing to hear we have to stay outside, especially after helping you with those monsters." Bertrand shook his head for a moment, but James didn''t respond. "But don''t worry - I won''t hold it against you. My second question is about your beacon - has it been killing unawakened recently?" Reid and James shared a glance - one that the thin man had very obviously seen. "It''s been acting up as of late, yes." James answered. "I assume others are having the same issue, then. Have you figured out how to fix it?" Bertrand''s smile never left his face. "Not yet - and every one has the same problem. The unawakened can''t touch the things, but awakened can interact with them just fine. How many people do you still have as unawakened? Your settlement can''t be large enough to still be queueing through the process, right?" James shifted uncomfortably. "It''s a problem we can manage. But let''s talk trade. What supplies are you looking for, and what do you have to offer?" The two continued back and forth for an uncomfortably long time - both probing for bit of information without really agreeing to anything at all. The whole discussion reminded Reid of the disingenuous way he had to act at the call center to placate shitty people - and it made his skin crawl. Bertrand brought up being allowed inside the walls twice more during the discussion, but didn''t press the issue further than that. In the end, no agreement was reached - and they paused discussions to allow Bertrand to go check on his men and coordinate them to set up their camp. They left the table and chairs where they were, with a promise to return to discussions tomorrow. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. James, Lowell, and Reid silently returned to the Rec Hall and made straight for the strategy room. The door locked behind them, and Lowell replaced the "29" with "30" on Marlene''s chalkboard as Reid and James finally spoke. "That guy was a piece of fucking work." Reid started. "I don''t think you should try to negotiate with them." "And I don''t want to," James tossed his notebook and pen on the table. "The way he was talking -." James counted off points on his fingers. "He referred to settlements as beacons multiple times, he kept saying they were allied with him - not with Bertland, they probed for information on our headcount more than once, he refused to let us talk to other allies of his, and admitted their 100-man group just went straight from another beacon to ours. Those aren''t the actions of someone trying to make friends. And the people with them - did you notice there aren''t any women in that group? Did you notice that most of them seem to be higher leveled?" He sighed and plopped himself down in a chair. "I''d rather not talk to them at all - especially because a lot of our good people are out on the scavenger run. And I''m not the tactician Marlene is if they end up wanting a fight." "Well, we should go kick them out." Reid attempted to twirl James'' pen between his fingers, but it clattered to the table. "Bertrand showed some serious power earlier, but I bet I can take him. We push them out, and remove the problem. Do it now, so they can''t do anything to us." James spent a moment staring at the pen. His mouth set into a firm line, and he snatched the pen off the table. "No - no direct confrontation right now if we can avoid it. We do two things. First is I send a scout to meet up with Marlene''s group, and let them know we might have trouble. Lowell - get someone you trust, someone good at staying quiet, and I want you to carry a dirtbike and two gas cans at least a mile away from the camp. Then, I want you to start the thing and ride flat out to the bridge site." He scribbled a few words down on a fresh page in his notebook, then tore out and folded the page. "Only give this to her, and then you what you know. Go now, let''s not waste time." Lowell nodded once, and sprinted out of the room. Reid and James both stayed silent until the door closed behind him. Reid didn''t like the wait-and-see approach. He didn''t want to wait. He was torn between going off on his own, or going with the plan. He wanted to launch himself over the wall and tell Bertrand to go home - but, he trusted James. The man was a fine leader, a decent teacher, and a good friend. He quieted the part of himself pushing for confrontation, and listened to James. "Reid, I think they''ll try to get more information out of us tomorrow, but I still want to be on guard. Can Susan heal away fatigue?" Reid nodded. "That''ll help. I want to keep a high presence on the battlements - constant wall patrols, but we''ll need to keep the same people out there all night. I don''t think they''d launch a night assault if we show them we don''t have any openings to exploit. So we guard, we watch them, and we prove we''re not an easy target." Reid put a hand on James''s shoulder. "Just don''t forget - Susan''s going to want a ready pot of coffee... But what''s the plan if they do attack?" James''s face was grim, and he looked to the chalkboard. "Hold out until Marlene reinforces us - or wave 30 does." # Reid walked along Sanctuary''s wall, eyes set on Betrand''s camp. Dozens of lanterns illuminated a ring around it, and even more were interspersed throughout the tents. It was bright enough that Reid needed to let his vision adjust any time he looked to the woods - or looked at his patrol buddy. Louis was no longer on the defender team. But when Reid told the boy he''d be missing their regular hangout time to do a special, emergency night watch - Louis volunteered to join him. Reid couldn''t exactly say no - he had to have a second person with him, and James had already approved it. They were on the third of three ''shifts'' - Susan had already removed their fatigue twice. In a few hours, dawn would break and they would be able to swap out with another set of guards. As they walked along the wall, Louis continued to talk to Reid. Most of his conversations recently involved Louis sharing animal facts. Lots of animal facts. "Ah! Do you know about pistol shrimp and mantis shrimp?" Reid shook his head, peering at the dark area outside Bertrand''s camp. His eyes kept playing tricks on him, mistaking flickering shadows for people moving though the dark. "Okay, okay. So the pistol shrimp is really cool. They have this special claw, and when they close it right, it shoots water out at super high speeds. Just water, in the ocean, right? Except the water is traveling so fast, it makes this superbubble, and when the bubble pops, it''s louder than a gunshot and it can be hotter than lava. Incredible, right?" Reid squinted at the darkness. "That really is." "So you would think it''s the coolest shrimp in the sea - except!" Louis was holding a finger in the air to grab Reid''s attention, "Nothing can beat a mantis shrimp." Reid let himself be drawn in by Louis''s enthusiasm, and he turned to face him. "We have three color cones in our eyes, right? Red - green - blue. Well the mantis shrimp, it''s got sixteen. It sees the world entirely different from how we do. And they''re really colorful themselves. But that''s not all - they have this horseshoe bone-muscle thing that lets them punch as fast as a bullet." Louis rubbed his elbow, then threw a fist into the air. "Their arms move so quick, the water around them boils, and the strikes make a shockwave. Amazing, right! But that''s not the best part! Their strikes are so powerful they also make bubbles that are super hot when they collapse - except the mantis''s bubbles emit bursts of light when they collapse. How cool is t-" Louis froze mid-sentence, eyes open. Reid stared at him for a few seconds. Was Louis playing up his next animal fact, or was something wrong? Those seconds were enough time for unseen hands to reach Reid. A massive pair of arms wrapped around his neck in a sleeper hold, as another stuffed a rag over his mouth and nose. He felt the pinprick of needles on his legs and arms. A thought flashed into Reid''s brain. Sleeper holds could knock someone out in ten seconds. Two seconds had passed. This was bad. Something happened to Louis. Reid needed to fight back. He needed to run, he needed to do something. He tried to raise his arms or kick his legs, but multiple pairs of hands were clamped onto each appendage, forcing him to hold still. Seven seconds. He tried to twist his head out of the hold, but the massive arms gripped him like a vise. Reid thrashed, desperately trying to get himself free. A pair of hands slipped off his left arm. Ten seconds. He brought his elbow back with all the force he could manage - and felt it dig deep into soft flesh. A gasp of air came out of the man holding his neck, but his arms didn''t move. He went for another elbow, but the arms still held his neck. He flung a fist blindly out to his left, and was rewarded with the crack of breaking bone, and a pained groan. Fifteen seconds. He raised his left arm above his shoulder and blindly swung until he found the man''s face. His thumb caught on the man''s nose. Reid pushed it into a nostril, then pulled his hand up as hard as he could. The grip on his neck started to loosen - just a bit - then a muffled scream sounded out as the nostril tore itself away from the man''s face. Reid slapped his hand back into the man''s bloodied face, and tried to find his eye sockets. Nineteen seconds. It was harder to see. Harder to think. Reid felt his consciousness recede, like falling away from a point of light. His pointer finger touched an eyebrow, then hooked between eyeball and the bone of the socket. He pushed into the flesh, and pulled outward. The stifled scream intensified and the bone started to crack. Reid tried to push his finger up into the man''s brain. The point of light was so far away now. All of his senses were faded like he was experiencing reality from under a thick blanket. Reid''s arm fell limp as he blacked out. CH 29: Comfort and Time ~; Lowell ;~ Lowell grimaced. He''d managed to stress his back earlier while he and Toby carried the dirtbike through the woods, and every heavy impact sent jolts of pain from his tailbone up to his neck. A part of him wished he''d let Toby take the ride instead of him - but this was Lowell''s task. He would deliver the note and the information. The throttle was pinned wide open even as the suspension bottomed out against rocks and ridges of dirt. The caravan''s path was simple enough to follow, even in the dark. He just had to maintain speed. His teeth rattled inside his helmet, and he heard gasoline sloshing in the metal tanks strapped behind him. His hands had gone numb again, but shaking them out would require him to slow down. The engine hadn''t started to sputter yet - he could go farther before he had to refuel. He would wring every second of travel time that he could manage. He could shake the feeling back into his hands once he was forced to stop. Lowell hadn''t meant to read the note. Marlene and James were the leaders of their group - strong, professional, and even-keeled. They were leaders worth listening to, and when they gave orders - he listened. Not just because of hierarchy, but because he wanted to. When James said not to open the note to Marlene, Lowell had intended to honor that. But it had slipped out of his pocket while loading the tanks. And the words were seared into his brain. Fight imminent. Outnumbered & outleveled. Don''t think we can win this. I love you, Honeybadger. A rock bottomed out the rear suspension and kicked the seat up into Lowell''s back. He winced through the pain, and kept the throttle pinned.
~= Louis =~ Louis darted his eyes around the massive cloth tent. It reminded him of historical movies, like the temporary home of some intrepid explorer. Lanterns hung from the tent''s supports, and sheets separated a sleeping area from the main portion he found himself in. A three-foot wide clock, the kind you''d see sometimes on people''s living room walls, was leaned against one of the tent''s supports. Louis couldn''t see the time, but he could hear it ticking away. Armor and clothing hung on a series of wooden poles, and a bent sword laid on the ground. An open box sat in the corner of his vision, and Louis could make out the rifles it contained. Another two just like it were stacked nearby. On the far wall, a map as large as a queen sized blanket showed rivers, mountains, and other markers he didn''t recognize. It was dotted with diamond-shaped symbols - nearly all of those were circled in green. A hand slapped the table in front of him. The intricate tablecloth shifted, and the man sitting across from him adjusted it. "Stop that. Pay attention to me. Now, answer my questions." Bertrand commanded. The man wore a robe, stained with specks of old blood. Louis wasn''t certain how long it had been since he and Reid were kidnapped off the wall. He''d been forced to watch, frozen, as a dozen men held down his friend and choked him out, even while they pumped him full of drugs. They''d dragged the both of them back to this tent, and Reid hadn''t woken up in that time - or since. They''d stuffed Reid into a metal cage that was sunk deep into the ground. The thin man watching the cage was injecting Reid with more and more drugs as time ticked on. In the last few minutes, the thin man had started to frown, and frequently looked over at the clock. Louis wished Reid would wake up. Or that some help would come. Bertrand had been pressing him for information about sanctuary the entire time he''d been here. The man only let Louis regain control of himself for moments, and only to answer his questions. The sensation of his body freezing, muscles clenched in unnatural ways was awful. He wasn''t sure how long his strength would let him keep resisting. He felt his body become his own again, and gasped in a few deep breaths before he spoke. "I don''t know - please just let my friend and -" His bodily control was taken from him just as quickly as it had been on the wall. Bertrand leered at him from across the table. "You know, boy - I''ve been asking you nicely for answers. But I don''t think you want to answer me after all. I think you''re not useful for information." He put his elbows on the table and pressed his chin into his hands. "But you could be useful for something else. I''ll give you one more chance - point out on this map where your beacon is, and you''ll be fine. Refuse, and we''ll do something... else." The threat was clear in his words. If Louis could move his body, he would have shivered at that. He felt his body again, and took a deep breath. This man was dangerous, well-armed, and his people had enough power to incapacitate Reid - even if they needed a group to do it. He couldn''t see giving them what they wanted ending in anything other than violence. He trembled, thinking of what would happen to Sanctuary if he complied with Bertrand - and what would happen to himself if he didn''t. He raised a hand, and let it hover over the smaller map for several seconds. It was a fairly detailed image of Sanctuary''s outer wall, and surrounding area. A few spaces within the walls were filled in, but the area where the beacon sat was blank. Louis breathed deeply. He relished controlling his own flow of air for a few more seconds, and pointed down to the map of Sanctuary. "There. That''s where you''ll find it." He couldn''t keep the fear out of his voice. "That''s where the beacon is." A grin split Bertrand from ear to ear as fire from the flickering lanterns cast shadows across his face. Louis felt his hair stand on end. "Thank you." The words were low, and full of genuine gratitude. Bertrand stood, and cracked his neck as he walked over to his armor. He pulled a knife from its sheath. Louis''s eyes shot open. He tried to push himself away from the table - to run - but his movements froze before he could stand. Bertrand wagged a finger at him. "It''s tough, you know. Getting information out of people. But I have to try - it makes finishing my quest so much easier. Some people, they stay silent at first, but then you get them to answer one question, and then you can ask them another, and soon you''re talking like old friends. Others - they''ll try to lie to you. Everything they say is a half-truth, or they mislead, or they tell you what you want to hear. How can you tell the difference?" Bertrand tapped the blade of the knife on the map of Sanctuary - not to where Louis had pointed, but to where the beacon actually was. "You start with a question you already know the answer to." Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Louis felt cold. Numb. He wanted to scream. "Now that I know you''re a liar, we get to do something fun. You -" He looked at the knife, "get to become something powerful. And I get to help you transform." Bertrand rounded the table. "Yes - and it''s the perfect time for this, too. Perfect. I''ve always had a knack for timing, you know. It''s my true gift. It''s how I knew when to approach your camp, and when to pick you and your friend off the wall. And now, it''s finally time for another transformation." Bertrand crouched until he was eye level with Louis. "Did you know its been days? Days. The salamanders don''t count, of course. They''re just beasts, they don''t... feel the same. Not like people." He put a hand on Louis''s knee. "Don''t worry - it feels wonderful. You''ll get to become something greater, to build up my glory and my light." Bertrand leaned forward until their noses touched. "It''s beautiful, you know. Just like a sunset." Louis felt the tip of the knife press into his neck. Bertrand''s voice lowered to a whisper. "Everyone loves to watch the dying light."
+ Reid + When Reid was eight, he spent most of his weekends making blanket forts in his parent''s living room. The blankets were always strung clumsily between couch cushions, kitchen chairs, and lamps - and they always collapsed at one point or another, burying him in fuzzy cloth. He''d stay there for a time, comfortable in the warm folds. But eventually the same comfort would turn claustrophobic, and suffocating. He''d find his way to the seam between blankets, and climb free. Reid felt like a blanket fort had collapsed on him, but he couldn''t find the seam. His thoughts drifted back to a thousand different memories of his life, and he bounced between warmth and a strong urge to move. As he struggled to find his way out, bits of recent memories had started to flow back to him. He was on the wall. They''d done something to Louis. They''d taken Reid - choked him out while needles poked into him. The needles. Reid forced himself to focus. He''d been injected with something - something that was making it hard for him to think, to stay in conscious control of his own mind. He nearly slipped back out of control. Was that another pinprick on his arm? He couldn''t focus. Everything was too relaxed, too warm. Reid tried and failed to rouse himself over, and over, and over. Each time, when he got close, he felt the echo of a pinprick, and consciousness slipped away from him. He didn''t know how long the cycle lasted before the idea finally floated into mind. He needed a stronger emotion to cancel out what he was feeling. He needed something drastic. He needed pain. Reid focused in on himself. There was no room for growth, he knew, but that''s not what Reid was after. He found the way down to his leg - and forced the bone to grow. Slowly - ever so slowly - a barbed point spread into his calf. The muscle and skin tried to part - to accommodate the growing bit of bone, but Reid forced it to still. His barb tore into the muscle and pain bloomed within him. Another pinprick hit him in the shoulder - but Reid didn''t lose control. He focused on the feeling of the needle - something cold was being pushed into him. It was foreign - unwanted - harmful. Reid focused on it. It was impossible to grasp, to hold. As it flowed through him, it became nearly impossible to differentiate between his blood and the foreign substance. It seeped into him and became invisible. His muscles relaxed. No. He needed to stop what was happening - and he needed to do it quickly. Healing himself, growing muscle, growing bone - it was always a slow process. Methodical. Reid willed himself back into control and grew the barbed bone in his calf. This drug wasn''t part of him, and neither were those feelings of comfort and relaxation. He wanted it gone. Desire burned in his mind, and he pushed himself. Pain began to bloom. Good. It''ll keep me awake. He worked through himself like a detective, cataloging every bit of bone and tissue. He tracked the flow of his blood, and everything it touched. Watched oxygen get carried in and out of him. And then he saw a clue. Every part of his body worked in harmony with the rest. Elastin kept his muscles flexible. His pores sweat to keep his body cool. His gut bubbled to break down nutrients, and his intestines carried away the junk. But some parts of his body were out of sync. Chemicals that he hadn''t produced were in his blood... his muscles... and his brain. Reid moved forward on instinct - he needed to counteract what was happening in his body. He needed to fight against the things he hadn''t produced himself. The first sign of a change was the heat - like the very start of a burn when you held a hand to close to an open flame. It wicked through his body, blooming and shrinking at seemingly random places. But the comfort - that suffocating sense of comfort had started to fade. Another pinprick hit him in the shoulder, and the heat moved to meet it. The heat bloomed into an actual burn - but Reid didn''t mind. He''d spent weeks roasting himself from the inside out every time he healed. His muscles burned like he was stuck in an oven every time he empowered himself. Reid was no stranger to the pain. When the bloom subsided, he sent the flicker towards his head, and rooted out the foreign substance there. Perception 1 -> 6 Control 48 -> 49 Notifications flashed into Reid''s view, and he opened his eyes. Reid saw the bars of a cage. Above him, the same thin man from the failed negotiations was lying on his stomach. A needle was in his hand as it shot down towards Reid''s shoulder. Reid caught the man''s arm with his own - and squeezed the arm until he felt bone begin to snap - then kept going. The man started to scream - but Reid thrust his other arm up through the cage bars and crushed his windpipe until he went limp. Reid ignored the notification that popped into view, and moved both hands to the cage''s metal bars. He braced himself, and pulled. Metal groaned as thick steel started to deform. Reid let his anger bubble. They drugged me with god-knows-what, and put me in a cage. A fucking cage. The sense of warm comfort was gone now - and the suffocating feeling was gone along with it. Reid sucked in deep breaths of cool air. The two bars he''d been pulling came free from the door. The open spaces they left weren''t big enough for Reid to fit through, so he grabbed another pair. His mind seethed. How long had he been lost, comfortable, idly content in that relaxed state? How much time had he wasted? What had happened to Louis - and everyone else while he was comfortably suffocating? Was Susan alright? Was Sara? The metal groaned. I should''ve pushed James to take action. I should''ve done something myself. Reid chided himself. He''d become so... comfortable at Sanctuary. Comfortable with James and Marlene making the decisions. Comfortable with letting Sara go out into danger without him. Comfortable with slowing his own growth to help the group. Comfortable slowing down his search for a cure. Comfortable with the fact that he was dying. Comfortable, in the thought that he could just sit back enjoy what might be the end of his life. Heat roiled in his chest. He''d been so happy to see his family again - and he leapt at the first chance to be normal again with them. He loved being with them - loved every moment, but he had stopped progressing - stopped really trying - all to get that chance at the idea of normalcy. But nothing about this world was normal. Nothing was ever going to go back to the way it was. His cancer wouldn''t magically disappear. Sara wouldn''t be going to the college that accepted her. Monsters wouldn''t stop attacking. And people... people might be the most dangerous thing of all. The bars snapped, and the thin man''s dead body fell down into the cage with him. Reid shoved it to the side. He had felt comfortable, even on the wall. Comfortable talking to Louis. Comfortable enough to take his eyes off the people his gut had tried to warn him about. Pain flared in his calf as Reid climbed up and out of the cage. He was so grateful for it. The pain was real, and true, and honest. It was the growth of his bones - his muscles - and himself. Even Susan''s healing didn''t stop Reid from feeling the pain, every time he improved himself. Every step of his journey had been painful. Reid had thought, more than once, that the pain would break him. But it never did. Instead, he''d sharpened himself against it like a blade. Let go of weaknesses like throwing out an old pair of boots. Pain was progress. Comfort was an illusion. Reid stood on the ground above the bars, and took another deep breath of cool night air. He wasn''t comfortable - or suffocating. He was free. CH 30: Knife to a Gunfight Reid reveled in the feeling of the cool air, and spoke the words aloud. "I''m Free." He swept his eyes over his surroundings. The tent was large, and boasted a sleeping area, some stands where clothing and a bent sword lay, odd supplies, and even a few boxes of firearms. Two chairs were set around a bloodstained table, and he pulled one out and sat down. The first thing he needed to do was take care of his leg. Reid willed the bone to grow, shrink, and shift itself into the form of a knife, and grew it directly out the side of his leg. He snapped it free and watched his skin close up. Calcification Weapon, Tibia Dirk created! Reid eyed the tent''s door flaps. No one had come in yet, but there was no guarantee that he''d be alone in here long enough to explore what had happened with his control stat increase - or the perception increase. Reid could feel both. He could tell the chair he sat in was warm enough that someone must''ve been in the same position recently - though he had no idea how long ago it could''ve been. He could hear indistinct voices, but he couldn''t tell what they were saying or how far away they were. He felt like a detective from some TV series, picking out the small details in the environment around him. And speaking of detective work, his work in mapping out the inner functions of his body made Reid feel like he had a better active understanding of what was happening inside himself. He could tell his pulse was elevated, and that his calf muscle had already finished healing. He stopped his introspection - he needed to think, and prioritize. He wasn''t certain how long he''d been out - which meant he had no idea what was happening with Louis, or with Sanctuary, or with Sara and the convoy. He ordered his priorities. First, he needed to remain undiscovered until he figured out the current situation. Second, he had to investigate to see if Louis was close by, and what state Bertrand''s camp was in. Third was getting back to Sanctuary, and confirming Susan was safe. Reid''s capture could have been an isolated thing, or it could''ve been part of a larger attack on their settlement. If an attack had happened, he needed to take Susan and try to link up with Sara and the convoy. If Sanctuary was safe, Reid needed to force Bertrand''s group out, or eliminate the threat. Voices started to near the tent, and Reid backed away into the small bedroom area. He watched the entrance through a small gap in the sheets, and saw four men enter. One, balding and fat, moved to the table and scooped up some sort of paper. Another with a crossbow slung to his back walked over towards the cage. The final two went out of Reid''s vision - in the direction of the guns. Reid tensed, and looked down at his knife. The last time he''d tried to be stealthy, it ended poorly for him. This time would be different - this time, he could be a silent killer. Crossbow man was only a few steps from the cage now - and Reid decided to strike. He slunk forth from the bedroom area, grabbed the man by the arm, and thrust his knife, with every intention to bury it to the hilt in the man''s skull. Instead, a loud crack accompanied a burst of sharded bone and bits of brain as the crossbowman''s head popped like a balloon. The pair near the guns turned to face Reid, then started fumbling to grab themselves weapons. The balding man, showered in bits of pink gore, turned toward the entrance to the tent, and shouted "BREAKOUT! We''ve go-" His mouth was caught, open, as he choked on the vowel. Reid had needed three steps to close the distance, and only a single punch to make a hole where the man''s heart should be. He flung the body to the side, and took another step towards the final two men. One was fumbling, failing to put a magazine into a long gun. The other held a pistol, leveled at Reid''s chest. The pistol holder pulled the trigger, and the sound of gunfire rang out in Reid''s ears as he felt the bullet hit him in the chest. He looked down - at where the bullet had deformed itself against his skin. Reid picked it up with two fingers, and stared at the tiny red welt it left behind. The pain - and the damage - were like Reid had been stung by a yellowjacket. He flicked the bullet to the floor, and looked up at the two men. Both had mouths agape, and the man holding the long gun kept staring at Reid for another moment before he furiously returned to his attempts at loading the gun. The man with the pistol pulled the trigger again, and again, and again. Bullets bit at Reid''s skin, but none sunk deep enough to be considered a real wound. They were just... a bit painful. Reid stepped forward towards the man. He still pulled the trigger on the now-empty handgun. His arm shook, and his eyes were wide. Reid stepped in close, pulled the man towards him by the arm - and with some restraint, drew his knife through the man''s throat, right over his adams apple. This time, he''d managed to kill someone without painting the surrounding area in gore. The man''s dead body fell limp to the ground, and Reid put his attention on the final man. He was decked out in camo tactical gear, full-sleeve tattoos full of skulls ran down each arm. The man was down on one knee, still trying to load his weapon. More specifically, he was furiously trying to shove an M14''s magazine into an M16 rifle. Reid closed the distance, and hauled him up and into the air by his collar. The rifle and magazine clattered to the floor as the man''s hands flew up over his head. Reid''s let his anger into his voice. "Where. Is. Louis?" The man''s eyes dilated, and shifted towards the entrance. "Look, they don''t tell me that stuff, but if-" Reid''s knife plunged into the man''s ear before he could finish the useless sentence. Then, a notification popped into view. Level 9 -> 10 Reid let his mouth hang open. Last he''d checked, Reid was still a long way away from leveling. He quickly brought up his other most recent notifications, then checked the changes to his status. You have defeated Human - lvl 11. Experience awarded. You have defeated Human - lvl 9. Experience awarded. You have defeated Human - lvl 10. Experience awarded. You have defeated Human - lvl 8. Experience awarded. You have defeated Human - lvl 8. Experience awarded. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.
Control 49 -> 54 Experience 8,219 / 12,800 -> 12,819 / 25,600
Reid let the man''s body fall to the ground. Not a single person in Sanctuary was even close to reaching level 8, Reid knew. But the five men he''d killed were all close to his level - some above. Even with their levels, they''d still gone down like wet sacks of flour. He did a bit of math - and realized the five men had given him a total of 4,600 xp. He looked at the corpses. Salamanders were much, much tougher to kill than these men had been - and yet, they''d only netted Reid a fraction of the experience. He looked over at the boxes full of guns, and a realization dawned on Reid. The reason why these men had such high levels was the same reason Reid had just jumped all the way to level 10. Killing other people rewarded you with at least ten times the experience you''d get from killing a similarly leveled beast. In sanctuary, the average person was still below level 3. If Reid''s math was right... then even the lowest leveled man he''d just killed would have needed to murder 10 of Sanctuary''s residents to reach level eight. He shuddered with a growing rage and sense of fear. He needed to act, quickly. Bertrand''s men were all murderers, and Sanctuary was their next target. Reid grabbed the boxes of guns, and threw them into the broken cage. Even if he was bulletproof - wait, holy shit, he was actually bulletproof, ok, calm down and think - even if he was bulletproof, Reid didn''t know whether anyone else in Sanctuary would be, and he didn''t want to find out. He threw the bodies in atop the guns, hoping they''d slow down any other forces from recovering the weapons. He heard more voices coming towards the tent. Of course there would be more people coming to investigate - there had been gunshots and shouting, despite Reid''s initial attempt at stealth. Reid groaned. Maybe being subtle just wasn''t his lot in life, despite what hundreds of hours playing games as a near-invisible archer would have him believe. Reid dropped into a ready stance as the tent flapped open. Bertrand stepped inside, shadowed by the hulking fridge of a man from the negotiating table. The fridge man was sporting a pink, freshly-healed nose. He steamed as he noticed Reid. Bertrand was also worse for wear - he had a patch over the side of his face, and his armor was covered in dirt. Both men looked over at the cage - or, looked at the bodies piled on top of it. Bertrand snarled. "You killed my men." Reid kicked off the ground and launched himself forward. He''d taken two steps towards the pair by the time Bertrand raised his arm. Magic flared in his hand and Reid felt his muscles go unnaturally taut. The fridge stepped between Reid and Bertrand, looking ready to strike - but Bertrand stopped him with a word. Then the man looked at Reid and he snarled a grin. "It''s time I asked you some questions. You can answer them, or we can do something I''d enjoy a whole hell of a lot more. I''ve already had a rough night, so I hope you don''t cooperate." Reid didn''t hear a word Bertrand said. He was busy, already focused inside himself, trying to figure out why the hell his muscles weren''t listening to him. He dove through his body, watching as different muscle groups spasmed and relaxed. Reid pushed out with his own will - and felt the influence fade as his control ebbed back into the muscle he was touching. He moved away from that area, then frowned internally when he saw it revert to its previous state. That wasn''t right. Reid''s body was his own. He''d just spent time figuring out how to burn out foreign influences. So how the hell was this happening? He looked deeper - inspecting himself, looking for clues again like a detective. Until he saw it. Energy was pulsing down into his body like a signal. Wherever it stopped, Reid''s muscles spasmed. That was it - why he didn''t stay in control of himself. If this outside influence was constantly sending out new waves of energy, Reid needed to cut it off at its source. He followed the pulses, winding through himself, spinning and rising until he found himself looking at the base of his own mind. He could see all the threads of the system there - tangled and sprawling in what felt like an endless expanse. He recognized the ones to call his status and his skills - the ones that now felt like second nature to use. There were so many threads here he didn''t recognize, though. Reid looked over everything, and waited. He wasn''t aware of what was going on outside of himself. Reid had no concept of real time. But he stared at the tangle for what felt like minutes, hoping and willing himself to see a pulse - so he could find where it originated. The pulse bloomed, and Reid shot out to meet it. The strand it emanated from was just like any other, but the ends felt... frayed. Like they were coming apart and leaving it weak and susceptible. Reid pushed himself to follow it from one end to the other, and the frayed feeling became more real in his mind. He pushed out with ethereal fingers, and slowly - ever so slowly - wound the fraying string back together. He threw himself to the string''s other end and repeated the process - but it didn''t feel like enough. A loose string always frayed and came unwound. The only way to stop that from happening was with an aglet, or a knot... or both. Reid looked quizzically at the thread. This was his mind. He couldn''t grow bone and muscle here, but he still had power - the power to wind his way through the threads of his mind. Power to manipulate and pull on those same threads, and the ability to do so with a growing ease as he got more used to them. Reid knew he could tie the ends of the string he''d just repaired. He knew he could make them into knots - but those could still come apart. He wanted more stability, and more certainty. He tried to touch the string, and fuse it together with his ethereal fingers, then tried to hold it between two palms. He imagined his fingers burning it, pinching it, but nothing seemed to work. Reid needed a different approach. He pulled his hands back, and thought about what it actually was that he wanted. The string wasn''t physical - as much as it resembled the physical version. So... didn''t that mean he needed an aglet that wasn''t physical either? Reid held his ethereal hand out, palm up, and imagined forming an aglet inside of it - not a physical thing, but a shoelace cap made of sheer energy. His will flared. His pulse quickened and his mind started to vibrate. Deep within Reid, he felt a pull. With a spark of light and a sound like sucking air, the energy-aglet appeared in his ethereal hand. He picked it up between two fingers, and carefully carried it over to the string. It expanded as he slipped it on, then contracted - as if willing itself to conform to the shape it needed to be. Reid was ecstatic. He quickly conjured another energy aglet, and capped the other side of the string. Then he tied the ends in knots, just to be safe. It felt right. The string no longer seemed exposed, or capable of wear. Notification chimed and popped into his view. He glanced at them, then stared. Then he brought up his status screen. Control 54 -> 55 Intelligence 1 -> 6 Prerequisite Conditions Met - Possess Two Resistances! Status - Resistances - Unlocked! Again, he''d explored himself in new ways, taken new actions - and he''d been rewarded with stat point increases. He now had two stats to dive into later. He wanted to pick apart how Perception and Intelligence had actually been impacted. Being able to raise those stats along with Power and Constitution would put him on an entirely different level. But he shelved the thought - there were still too many things to take care of in the moment. For now, he decided he''d only look at his status.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 9 -> 10 Health: 192 / 200 Experience: 8,219 -> 12,819 / 25,600 STATS: Constitution: 20 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 1 -> 6 Perception: 6 Power: 24 Control: 49 -> 55 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESISTANCES: Substances - Sedatives Active Skill Effects- All RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
In the outside world, less than twenty seconds had passed. From Bertrand''s point of view, he''d taken control of Reid, and spoken while the man refused to look at him. Then - out of nowhere - Reid opened his eyes, cracked his neck, and pulled his knife into a fighting stance. Bertrand looked down at his hand, then at Reid. Power flared in his palm, and Reid felt a pinprick in his ethereal space. Just enough of a feeling to know that something had tried to touch him, but failed. Reid grinned. Bertrand''s eyes went wide. Then he turned and fled. CH 31: Fall ~= Louis =~ (Three Hours Before Reid Broke Out) Louis couldn''t scream, and he couldn''t move. Bertrand had his nose pressed against Louis''s own - and madness danced in the dark of his eyes. Terror and helplessness held him just as tightly as Bertrand''s skill, and he struggled to think clearly. Reid couldn''t save him - he was still stuck in the cage. Louis needed to think. Just to think. His skill. His skill had allowed him to shove his despair aside after Oscar''s death - maybe it could help him think clearly now, to escape his situation. Or - maybe it would at least let him face the end of his life free of fear and anguish. He activated Ease Affliction. Louis felt a pool of energy within him flare, then shoot out like rivers of electricity. They tingled deep underneath his skin, and flowed up through his body. He had the sense that something had been burned up inside of him, and it was drifting away like bits of ash. He''d never felt that before - at least, it hadn''t happened when he used the skill back in the forest. It was complex and interesting and felt right in a hundred ways he couldn''t put into words. The pain of the knife on his throat snapped his thoughts back into focus. Bertrand was there, ready to kill him and savoring every moment. He needed to break free. He still felt half suffocated. Louis sucked in a breath through his nose - And realized he could breathe. If he could breathe, he could move, and if he could move, he could run. He could fight. He could live. Louis snatched the knife out of Bertrand''s loose grip before he consciously knew what he was doing, and he instinctively kicked the older man away. Bertrand''s face was full of shock and disbelief, and he fell back from his crouch onto the ground. Louis threw the knife at him. He didn''t wait to see if it connected. His feet carried him out into the night, with one hand pressed hard into his neck to stop the bleeding. The night air was cool, and the camp was mostly quiet. Lanterns burned all around, but most of Bertrand''s men seemed to be asleep. Shouts and roars of pain sounded out behind him. He didn''t have time to sneak around - he needed to get out of the camp now, before the commotion woke everyone up. His head swiveled. The fires in the camp were all so bright, it took Louis precious seconds to figure out which way the walls were. When he realized their direction, he took off in a sprint. Flickering light and canvas walls seemed to blur as he passed them. Each step felt like a tiny miracle - one more second of freedom and life. Louis pushed himself to be faster. He needed to escape this place - and not just for himself. Bertrand''s forces were well armed. Not with the melee weapons they''d used against the salamanders - but with enough guns and ammunition to kill all of Sanctuary''s residents. Louis needed to warn them. They needed to know what was coming - and they needed to know they couldn''t stop it. If he got there quick enough, he could have them evacuate. His legs pounded against the ground, and his lungs started to burn, but he pushed himself through it. The flickering light and canvas fell away from the sides of his vision as he entered the open field between the camp and the gate. His vision hadn''t adjusted to the dark. His foot caught on a bit of uneven ground, and Louis stumbled. He caught his fall with both hands, and lunged forward. His legs lifted high above the grass. Sanctuary''s gate was ahead, like the welcoming arms of some friendly god. There was more shouting behind him. Dozens of voices called out. If the camp was up, he had no reason left to worry. Louis added his voice to the night air. "HELP! It''s Louis! We have to evacuate!" He recognized James and Walt standing on the battlement. Walt scrambled to open the gate. Louis didn''t stop shouting while it parted. "They have guns - they''re coming for the beacon - we need to get everyone to safety! Bertrand has a skill th-" The cracks of gunfire shattered the night air. Louis was four steps from Sanctuary''s entrance. He fell to his knees. Above, James was shouting. Walt had reversed his action, and was shutting Sanctuary''s gate. Louis''s fading vision tunneled on the closing doors. He''d made it so close to home. His hand reached out - Sanctuary was right there. If he could just touch it, everything would be fine. He would be fine. The world went black, and his body hit the ground. Blood pooled in the dirt around Louis, flowing freely from the hole at the base of his skull.
+ Reid + As Bertrand''s form slipped out of the tent, his fridge-looking bodyguard rushed towards Reid. Fridge cocked back his massive arm, and sent a fist the size of a turkey straight at Reid''s head.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Reid raised his hand to block it. Knuckles connected with Reid''s open palm - but Reid hadn''t stopped the momentum. The back of Reid''s hand smashed into his own face as he turned to lessen the force of the blow. He stumbled backward a few steps. Blood pooled inside his mouth, and he spat out a mouthful. No one in Sanctuary was even close to matching Reid''s power stat. He couldn''t even imagine someone beating him in a contest of strength. But this monster had just sent him reeling. Fridge let out a full-bellied laugh. "Yeah, that''s right. I can crack you like an egg, little man." He patted his arm. "Boss wanted me to put all my points in power, but I think 26 is enough, don''t you?" Fridge sprinted forward, closing the distance between them in a way that seemed impossibly fast for someone of his bulk. His turkey-fist split the air, and Reid barely managed to duck out of the way. A follow up kick from the big man landed on Reid''s thigh and sent him tumbling backwards. "Yeah, that''s right. You know, I had to get almost twenty minutes of healing after I choked you out. So this? This is payback. You hit hard, little man - but I hit harder." The man sprinted to close distance again, and Reid slashed out with his bone knife. It looked like it was going to connect - but the man''s arm shifted, and his hand clamped down on Reid''s wrist. The fridge raised his free hand and drove it into Reid''s stomach twice. Then he flung Reid off to the side. "How did you stop the boss''s skill? Huh? I want to know. I''m level 11, and he can still use it on me. I want to be able to fight him. Come on, tell me." The man ended his sentence by sending another kick towards Reid''s thigh. He managed to jump out of the way, and avoided the follow-up punch. "Tell me how you did it, and I''ll make it quick." Heat was building in Reid''s chest. The man in front of him literally had more power, and he was obviously an experienced brawler. Reid needed to find an opening, and start dealing some damage. If the man wasn''t lying about his power and level, he couldn''t have too much in the way of constitution - not compared to Reid, at least. If he could start to weaken the man, the tide of the fight might turn in Reid''s favor. He focused on his chest, and his growing frustration. Maybe there was another option. Maybe he could use his rage. Another series of attacks left Reid jumping and spinning, but one still landed on his shoulder. It ached with pain. Reid let his frustration build, and felt the waves within him churn and rise. Heat flowed out into him, and into his muscles - power flowing through his frame. He kept himself above the waves, letting the power flow in, while refusing the overwhelming anger that threatened to take over his rational thinking. Reid launched himself towards the fridge. He raised his knife like he was going in for a slash, then stopped his momentum as he brought his other arm around in a punch that landed on the man''s face. He stumbled backwards, and raised an eyebrow at Reid, as Reid''s follow up kick hit him in the arm. The man returned his own flurry of blows, frowning deeper when Reid managed to catch the one he didn''t dodge. Then his eyes went wide. He pointed at Reid and chuckled. "Yes! Yes! Little man - you''ve got a skill to get stronger! Extra power, extra speed. Good! The boss doesn''t like me using this inside, but I bet I can do it for you." Reid saw energy collect and pulse through the big man''s body. His fists started to glow. A grin spread across the big man''s face, illuminated by his fists, and the flickering lantern light. "I get stronger too." He drove forward in a blur and slammed three blows into Reid before he could raise a guard. Each hit felt like a cinderblock slamming into his pre-system body. A kick landed on Reid''s side, and he felt a rib shift in a way ribs weren''t supposed to. The man''s foot stomped down on his own, and the intense pain blinded Reid for a moment. This was bad. Very bad. Fridge''s blows kept landing, even as Reid lashed out with punches and slashes of his own. He was outmatched by the man''s fighting skill, and now - even while fueled by his rage, Reid was coming up short in power. Maybe if he''d had time to strengthen himself, the fight would be going differently. His power cap was higher now. His constitution had room to grow as well - he just needed time to apply the changes. Time he definitely didn''t have. Fridge''s massive fist slammed into Reid''s arm when he tried another slash, and the bone knife tumbled to the ground. Reid made the mistake of watching it fall, and got a punch to the collarbone for his poor judgement. He sailed backwards, hit the ground, and rolled. By the time Reid was back on his feet, Fridge was walking towards him. He twirled Reid''s knife in his hand. "This is getting boring, and I have to go check on the boss. You were better than most, little man. But you weren''t better than me." Fridge''s arm shot out and grabbed Reid''s wrist faster than he could react. He tried to pull his arm free. Reid braced his entire body and flexed it against the hold, but nothing worked. The man''s grip was like a vise. The knife was moving. Reid kicked and pulled, trying to funnel his rage into his blows - to do something to break the larger man''s hold and stop him. The knife was coming at Reid''s head. Both feet dug into the ground, trying desperately to get him out of the way of the larger man''s strike. Then, something shifted. The sole of Reid''s left boot twisted, popped, and tore itself free. Reid was sent off balance, falling low and swinging in towards his opponent. A massive hand grazed Reid''s hair as his head swung under the Fridge''s knife strike. Reid''s mind worked in overdrive. Fridge still held onto one of his arms. A follow up blow would be coming. Reid needed to do something to fight back - to get free. The idea lit up in his mind - he was low to the ground, and close to a soft target. Reid quickly balled a fist, powered his arm with rage - and punched Fridge as hard as he could in the groin. Something popped under the force of his blow. The big man whimpered and let go of Reid''s wrist. His knife fell to the ground. Reid punched him again - then rolled out of the way as Fridge doubled over and fell to the ground. Blood was running down both his legs as his hands desperately tried to protect his body from damage already done. Reid picked his bone knife up off the ground, and walked over to the whimpering hulk. Part of Reid wanted to gloat. He wanted to taunt the man about cracked eggs, to flex his own power and might and boast that he would be even more powerful when he had time to improve himself. He wanted to tell the big man he was a coward, and a bully, and that he was trash. But he didn''t. Instead, Reid crouched down and thrust the knife into the base of Fridge''s neck, and pulled up towards the crown of his head. The man''s skull offered little resistance compared to a salamander, and a mix of cranial fluid and blood leaked out onto the ground. This wasn''t a good fight. Reid had been weaker than his opponent - even if he was more durable. He''d come up lacking in fighting ability, and may have died if the bigger man had used his skill from the beginning. He''d just gotten incredibly lucky. Something wet touched Reid''s left foot, and he instinctively jumped up. His left boot was now just a leather shell that left his foot exposed where the sole should''ve been. He stared at the pieces of rubber sole sitting on the ground. Lucky... If they hadn''t broken... if Reid had told Sara he didn''t like them... if she hadn''t found the boots in the first place... he wouldn''t be alive. Wind whipped against the tent, and blew the door flap slightly open. Dawn''s light flashed into the room for a moment, then disappeared. Reid put his knife to his left boot, and slashed the laces. He pulled off the leather, and set it reverently on the ground. At some point, he''d take time to ruminate on what just happened. Right now, Reid still needed to figure out what was going on with his family, with Louis, and with Sanctuary. Reid made circles with both arms, and groaned when a dozen spots on his body - including a very not-fine rib - complained with pain. He decided in that moment that there was a happy point between being in pain, and suffocating in comfort. He also decided that''s exactly where he wanted to be. Reid added healing to his priority list. Voices rose outside the tent. Reid put a hand on his aching rib and sucked in a deep breath - wincing again as the rib shifted. He didn''t have time to stall the next fight. Reid headed for the exit, and threw open the flap. CH 32: Red Sunrise Dawn cast a red-orange glow over the clouds in the sky - washing out the luminescence from the torches all around him. The grass and churned mud was cool on Reid''s bare left foot. Reid''s face and body were dotted with red patches in early signs of bruising - but it was hard to see those under the layer of blood and gore that coated most of him. His messed up rib complained every time he twisted his upper body - and he''d gotten quite a bit of exercise so far. Five broken, barely recognizable bodies were on the ground at his feet. Compared to fighting the fridge, they''d all been terribly slow - and utterly weak. Canvas tents flexed and flapped as the growing breeze caught them. The group of men arrayed in front of Reid grew in ones and twos as men made their way towards the open area in front of Bertrand''s tent, towards the ever-growing commotion he had caused. Reid tensed his grip on the bone knife and surveyed the group that blocked his advance. He needed to make short work of these men, and start figuring out who was still alive and well. Louis, Susan, and Sara were his top priorities - but he didn''t have any idea if the RV convoy had even returned, and he had no idea where Louis was. That meant his best bet right now was pushing through Bertrand''s men, and into Sanctuary proper. Twenty men had gathered now. They started to array themselves into a defensive formation, with ranged weapons at the back, and melee fighters at the front. Those with firearms leveled their guns at Reid. He counted three with long rifles, and one with a pistol. A few hung back and gathered energy in their hands - magic users. One man drew back a bowstring while the man next to them hefted a throwing spear over their head. Towards the front of their line, a man with a baseball bat stood between two others holding real swords. Someone off to the side of them was holding a shield, whispering to the man next to them holding... what looked like a sharpened lawnmower blade. A man with a hatchet and one with brass knuckles shared glances with a taller person that held a sharpened stick. Seconds steeped in tension ticked by, then Stickman charged forward. Gunfire cracked and magic lanced towards Reid as the battle began. The bullets stung - the long rifles did just a bit more damage than the pistol rounds had. But they weren''t leaving any true injuries. An arc of electricity shot wide past Reid''s left side and burned a hole in Bertrand''s tent. A fireball slammed into his arm, and burned off his hair, as well as a bit of skin. Bits of dirt exploded ineffectually against his chest, and the only arrow sent at Reid bent and snapped on impact. Reid took two steps forward to meet the stickman. He grabbed the man''s wrist and slashed at his throat, then shoved him into the hatchet wielder. A brass knuckle impacted Reid''s abdomen - and the wielder screamed when the metal contorted around his newly broken fingers. Knuckles was no fridge - he didn''t have nearly enough power to overcome Reid''s toughness. Reid balled a fist and punched brass knuckle''s nose through the back of his skull. Reid pushed the stickman''s body off the hatchet man, then dragged him up off the ground by his throat. A poorly aimed fireball slammed into the man''s back, and he thrashed in Reid''s grip as the friendly fire burned away his back. Reid squeezed until something popped in the hatchet man''s neck, then he threw him aside. Lawnmower blade, shield man, the two sword wielders and the baseball bat guy rushed him together. Reid dodged to the side as three bladed weapons sliced empty air. He grabbed the baseball bat coming for his head, and stabbed the bat wielder through the chest and neck with his free hand. The man''s torso twisted and nearly tore as he fell limp. Reid slid the bat up in his hand, and leveled a one-handed, lefty swing at the closest sword wielder. The bat exploded in a shower of wood fragments as it tore the swordsman''s head from his shoulders. Back in the ranged weapons group, the pistol holder screamed as fragments of wood hit him in both eyes. Reid saw healing magic flare, and frowned. His mission was speed - and enemies getting healed was only going to slow him down. Or... this was good. Reid could keep the healer alive, and then convince or threaten the man into fixing his rib. Reid made a mental note to not fling anything in the healer''s direction, then started towards the riflemen. The shield-wielder jumped in his path. He thrust the giant metal disk at Reid in an attempt to bash him - but Reid sidestepped the slow blow, and grabbed hold of the metal''s edge. He pulled the shield man close and gouged a channel in his throat with the bone knife. As the man sputtered and gurgled on free flowing blood, Reid cut the shield straps on his arm. Another arc of electricity lanced out and hit the shield. Reid''s muscles locked up for a brief moment - just long enough for the remaining swordsman and the lawnmower blade man to attack him from behind. They ripped Reid''s shirt... without doing any real damage to him directly. Reid hurled the shield like a frisbee in the general direction of the ranged attackers, and caught a glimpse of the top half of a newly-bisected body flailing as it soared into the air. His knife stabbed the swordsman through the chest, then through the side of his skull. His free hand caught the lawnmower blade wielder''s arm as he went for another blow. The man''s eyes went wide when Reid used his grip on the man''s arm to force his own weapon back on himself. Reid plunged the metal into the man''s chest - then let go of his arm, grabbed the blade, and heaved it up through the man''s chest and out his shoulder. Reid frowned - he''d wanted to make a clean cut up through the man''s skull, but that would have to do. He pulled the knife back out of the swordsman, and watched both bodies fall to the ground. Long rifle fire and arrows peppered Reid from range. Another fireball caught his pant-leg alight, and Reid patted it out with a hand as he approached the ranged fighters. A man with glowing eyes and long flowing hair walked out to meet him, then charged Reid with a warrior''s scream. He moved incredibly fast - almost as fast as the fridge had while using his boosting skill. Reid dodged a pair of quick strikes, but couldn''t avoid the third. A scene from an old cartoon came to mind, of a speedster superhero that had broken their body trying to defeat a tougher villain. Speed was useless if you didn''t have the strength to back it up.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The man screamed in pain as everything from his hand to his upper arm shattered on Reid''s torso. Reid grabbed him by the hair and hefted the man off his feet - then held towards the ranged attackers like a shield. Fireballs singed the man''s clothing and a pair of arrows thumped into his side. Reid drew his knife across the man''s throat to stop his screaming. Notifications flashed. Level: 10 -> 11 Control: 55 -> 60 One of the attackers held a hand out towards Reid and touched his temple with the other. Mana flared, and Reid felt the pinprick he now knew was active skill resistance. The attacker went wide eyed, then roared out in pain and gripped his head with both hands as he fell to his knees. Reid reached the bowman. In a stunning display of dexterity, the nimble man actually dodged out of the way of two of Reid''s strikes - before Reid caught him by the cloak. He spun the bowman into an oncoming clump of soil, and was shocked when it punched a hole through the man''s torso. It had seemed like such an ineffective attack when it hit Reid. He stabbed the man to finish him, then sprinted for the dirt manipulator. An earthen wall rose between Reid and the man - then crumbled just as quickly. Reid smashed through the dirt, grabbed the man by the throat, and twisted his wrist. The sudden motion snapped the man''s neck, and Reid threw away the body. The remaining two riflemen were grouped together with the lightning user and fire caster. The healer was still working on the pistol man, though the screaming man holding his head had been dragged over to the magic medic as well. The throwing spearman was alone - and he still hadn''t attacked. Reid made sure he never would. He closed the distance in four steps and drew a long gash up the spearman''s side, then stabbed through his neck. An arc of lightning hit Reid in the knee and burned away more of his pants. He recovered, crouched, and zig-zagged an approach to the final team of healthy ranged attackers. The riflemen weren''t trying to make well placed shots anymore, and both held triggers down until their magazines were empty. Reid dropped his knife to his pocket as he reached them. Enough of Bertrand''s people had died that Reid wanted to try questioning the survivors. He ignored their attempts to hit him. Reid grabbed the shorter one''s head in his left hand, then the taller one''s head in his right. He turned to the magic wielders, and spoke for the first time in this fight. "No one else has to die if you answer my questions! Where is Louis?" Reid knew he was dancing on a knife''s edge. Right now, he was a danger to himself. Reid was... incredibly angry - and his rage was only growing as the fight dragged on. He was still in control of himself - still above the waves - but the churning water threatened to swallow him with every new swell. So he''d stopped himself short of killing two men - hoping he could de-escalate his own growing rage and learn more about the fate of his family and his friend. The magic casters were less than cooperative. Arcs of electricity tore through both riflemen. They screamed, and Reid''s muscles seized again, for a fraction of a second. That seizing caused him to close his grip, and he found himself with the broken remnants of two skulls in his hands. He threw the bits of bone and gore at the electric mage, then stepped in close and low while the man was distracted. His uppercut shattered his jaw, and nearly ripped the man''s head off at the neck. The fire mage tried to run, but tripped over the body of one of his comrades. Reid walked over and stomped in his skull with his one booted foot. The healer had stopped their use of magic, and stared at Reid in shock. Reid stomped the life out of the two wounded men, then crouched down in front of the final mage. The man raised his hands, visibly shaking. Reid took a steadying breath and tried to keep the rage out of his voice. "What''s happening inside the walls? What did you do to the people there?" The man spent a few seconds blubbering incoherent syllables before Reid could understand him. "We l-l-let everyone g-go, i-i-into the forest. Bert-Bertrand only needed th-the beacon. He t-to-told us not to k-kill anybody." Hope flared in Reid''s heart. "Everyone in Sanctuary made it into the forest? Nobody died?" The healer nodded vigorously. Reid wanted to be skeptical, but he felt tension and worry starting to melt. His family might be safe... or, was safe. A part of him wanted to fall onto his back and relax. The fight hadn''t been difficult, but it was still taxing. Everything was sore, and the small wounds had built themselves up into a combination of injuries that was actually painful. His rib was still the worst, though. Reid looked at the man cowering in front of him. If he was getting information - he may as well ask for more. Reid asked questions, and the healer continued to stammer out answers. Reid learned that Bertrand hadn''t let the people go out of any sort of kindness - he''d needed to limit deaths while capturing the beacon for the sake of his quest. Even more interesting was that the beacon hadn''t actually been captured yet. For some reason, Bertrand had to ''control it'', uncontested, for another few hours before it would officially transfer to Bertland. Any deaths from the attackers or the defenders during that time would be considered a challenge to control, and it would extend the duration, or pause the timer. As the questions continued, Reid had the healer work on him. The man was slow compared to Susan, but he''d managed to finish fixing up Reid''s rib and a few of the more painful areas by the time Reid had finished quizzing him. Reid flexed - then smiled when nothing shifted wrong. He considered what to do next. Bertrand''s quest and focus on the beacon, coupled with everyone''s escape, meant Reid had two options. Sanctuary and his family were both safe. He could head into the woods, find the residents, then link back up with Sara on the scavenger team. They could find a new place to settle in, and hunker down until the tutorial started. They would be able to live, safe and comfortable. Reid dismissed the idea. The other path was eliminating the threat. If Sanctuary''s people were out of the settlement, only Bertrand''s forces would be inside. That meant Reid could fight through them without any risk to his family or his people. Bertrand''s group was armed, ready for a fight. Reid would need to pace himself and watch out for anyone else like the fridge that could challenge him - but it felt... doable. He stood, and lifted the healer off the ground. The man might be slow, but Reid would have more need of him, soon enough. Reid turned and started walking towards the gate. He could already see motion on the walls. His resolve hardened. Bertrand had kidnapped Reid. He''d killed scores of people - and so had his men. There was no future where they would leave Sanctuary''s residents alone, even if they ran. Bertrand would take the beacon, then he''d seek them out to kill them. Reid could feel it in his bones. The man was, for everything Reid had seen, a slimy, violent coward. Reid couldn''t let that threat stand. He wouldn''t. Bertrand put Reid in a cage. He was going to put Bertrand in the ground. CH 33: On the Move ~ Marlene ~ (Ten Minutes After Reid''s Breakout) The pickup hit another rock with a loud clang, which sent the bed- and everyone in it - bouncing into the air. She winced when one young man nearly fell out the side. He held onto the bed rail - while the two closest to him grabbed at his clothes and pulled him the rest of the way back down. Her pickup was overfull - five defenders sat crammed in the backseat, and another ten had stuffed themselves into the truckbed. She sat alone in the front passenger seat while another defender drove. Behind them, two 4x4 Vans and a smaller camper followed - though they had slowly lagged behind. Marlene could only see them now on the longer straights. Each vehicle carried more of Sanctuary''s people. More defenders and some of the more combat capable people stuffed the vans. Their noncombatants, Mark, and Sara were both in the camper. While both Mark and Sara could help in a fight, she didn''t want them in the thick of things. Her truck - carrying the vanguard - would be the first ones to the gate. She checked the rifles sitting on the floor - again. She''d kept a close eye on their new weapons throughout the ride. Mark''s bridge had been completed enough to cross with light vehicles after just the first day of building was over. Getting larger trucks and RV''s over would''ve been unsafe, so instead she had her people scout ahead with a dirtbike and pair of ATVs. Those scouts almost immediately ran straight into a National Guard Armory, and Marlene had the scavengers work through the night to loot the entire structure as quickly as possible. They stripped the building of everything they could transport with the smaller vehicles - which meant Sanctuary''s firepower had grown by leaps and bounds. She just wished she had time to let her people practice with the weapons. Lowell had appeared in the early morning hours, the dirtbike engine acted as an alarm clock that roused almost everyone from their sleep. Marlene had gotten up and outside fast enough to see Lowell dismount the vehicle. He let it fall into a puddle - and the engine was hot enough that it boiled the muddy water. The man himself looked no better. He was wild-eyed, limping, and had small cuts and insect guts covering his face and hands. She''d led him inside her camper, and grimly faced his news. The note - well, she didn''t want to think about the note. They would either make it in time, or they wouldn''t. It took too long to rally the group and ensure everyone was armed. Precious minutes wasted because she hadn''t had them drill this scenario. If they all made it through the day, she''d add it to the next round of scavenger training. But still, they rallied. They stuffed themselves into the vehicles, armed to the teeth and with spares to match. Each of her defenders sported an M4A1 rifle, submachine gun, or shotgun. Most also carried a sidearm, and some - that she trusted - had grenades. They rode towards the fight, ready for a war. She worked through tactics and possible scenarios in her mind. What to do if their people were already gone. How to handle things if they started losing the fight against the enemy force. What to do if there were hostages - stand down, or push through? She had still been lost in thought when the first round of notifications hit. It was only when her driver asked if she was alright that she realized she''d gasped and jumped at the system''s message. A ball of ice formed in her gut when she read through the notifications. She resisted the urge to share the details of their new quest with her driver and passengers. NOTICE: Special Event Started. Sanctuary Defense Quest automatically paused. WARNING! Sanctuary Beacon is Contested! Defend your beacon and defeat the invading forces to stop the timer and maintain independence. Quest Automatically Assigned: Beacon Defense! Defend Sanctuary from Attack by Bertland Time Remaining Until Beacon Loss: 3h 47m 35s Quest Sub-Objectives: 1. Prevent Further Losses: 0 2. Defeat Enemy Leader ( 0 / 1 ) 3. Defeat Enemy Forces ( 6 / 101 ) NOTICE: Beacon Defense Quest Performance will calculate based on engagement outcome, including losses, enemies defeated, and time remaining. NOTICE: When timer expires, Sanctuary will automatically absorb into the Bertland hierarchy. All Sanctuary-affiliated persons will be subject to Bertland''s rules and regulations. NOTICE: Inter-beacon contact has unlocked additional leadership functions. You may now enter trade agreements, alliances, and conflicts with other beacon settlements. Options for voluntary control transfer are now available. You may voluntarily fail your quest by transferring beacon ownership to [Bertrand] of [Bertland]. There was a lot to unpack in just a few lines of text. The first thing she noticed was the system''s use of the term ''further losses''. No matter what happened next, that probably meant some of her people were already dead. The next was the final notice. She jumped into a suite of new menus that hadn''t been available to her before, and saw the options the system referenced. She had faded and unavailable options to trade and ally with this "Bertland", as well as one she could select that would willingly transfer control of Sanctuary to the invading force. There were other menus she didn''t spend too much time exploring, but they indicated there were far more responsibilities and options to beacon ownership than she''d previously thought. It was a short while later that the counts started to change. The enemies defeated counter had jumped to one - followed by a short lull. Then it jumped up to 5, and another lull occurred. With the count moving, the timer had stopped. It meant two things for Marlene. The first was that her people were fighting back - and based on the lack of casualties on Sanctuary''s side, they were fighting like hell. The second was less encouraging. She did the math in her head. If her people stopped fighting back, or if they were defeated, she wouldn''t make it back to Sanctuary in time to stop the beacon from falling into Bertrand''s control. She didn''t want to know what rules and regulations that would subject her and her people to.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Marlene hoped her people could hold out and keep defending until she made it back to Sanctuary. She needed them to fight back long enough for the timer to still be active when she returned.
. James . (Fifteen Minutes after Reid Broke Out) The light of daybreak filtered in through the trees. It bathed the people of Sanctuary in a warm, orange-red light as they trekked over roots and rocks. James walked at the rear of their long column, pistol in one hand, and a bullhorn in the other. If Bertrand and his army showed any signs of following them into the woods, it was his job to give the rest of the group a warning... and time to get away. Their column traveled in a wide, arcing route between Sanctuary and the path the Scavengers had taken to get to the bridge site. Their path took them far away from where Bertrand''s group had made camp, and far away from their own wooden walls. James didn''t doubt that Sanctuary''s battlements would be manned by Bertrand''s people now. Far ahead, James could just make out Susan. She was healing an older man as they both walked, doing whatever she could to keep their most vulnerable alive and mobile. James hoped she wasn''t overdoing things too much - but even if she was, he couldn''t ask her to stop. Susan''s healing was the only reason the column had been able to press on without rest. And if they stopped, Bertrand''s people would catch up. If they caught up to the column... James didn''t want to think about that. Today had already been too full of hard choices. Getting their people out of the settlement ahead of Bertrand''s forces was nothing short of a miracle. The evacuation was one of Marlene''s contingencies - a quiet, non-vehicle aided exodus from their homes. It was also something they''d drilled for more than once. Evacuations were the only plans shared with everyone, for the simple reason that it would have been impossible to get them all headed in the right direction if people didn''t have an understanding of what was going on. So when James made the call, everyone near him had almost instantly followed the plan for branching alarm. Each person found and told at least two others while they zig-zagged through the settlement. As word spread, more and more people were up and out of their beds, spreading the order to leave immediately. The mass of residents had filtered out into the night - and towards the rallying point in final stand field. At that point, James could''ve taken vehicles and driven their way out through the main gate - or used the hidden evacuation vehicle exit. But doing that would''ve drawn even more attention to their retreating force. Even with their speed and cohesion, they were a large group. Getting everyone into vehicles and getting all those vehicles started and moving would''ve taken more time than they had. Or, at least - that''s what James was still telling himself. He didn''t even consider standing their ground an option - there weren''t enough defenders to stop Bertrand''s forces. They were ill-prepared for their current trek. The group had almost no supplies, and many were wearing thin pajamas. He''d seen a few without shoes, some still in robes, and one man that had only thrown on a pair of boxers and a vest before stumbling into the night. Their progress through the forest, even with the current conditions was a testament to their resilience. Few complained - at least for now. James looked back again - still worried and cautious even though there was no movement amongst the trees. Bertrand''s forces should''ve caught up to them, by all rights. Those soldiers would''ve been faster through the forest than Sanctuary''s residents, and they''d already been so close before. James had seen Bertrand''s army from final stand field, scaling walls and searching through their homes. He knew if he was seeing them, they should''ve been able to see James and the residents as well. But instead of giving chase, they''d seemed content to clear a path in the direction of Sanctuary''s beacon. And if that''s what they were after, James was happy to let them take it in exchange for his people''s lives. Almost all of their lives. James had taken Walt and joined the wall defenders towards the end of the night - as an attempt to relieve the gate guards, and to have a better look at their enemy as dawn approached. He hadn''t expected everything to go so wrong. The sight of Louis''s body in the dirt was a shadow that superimposed itself in James''s vision every time he looked at the forest floor. He shivered, and put a hand to his shoulder. The same volley of fire that had taken Louis''s life had struck James in the arm. Susan had healed the wound completely, but James could still feel the sting - and picture the moment. As soon as the fire erupted, he''d shouted for Walt to close the gate. It was the right decision, he knew. But that didn''t make leaving Louis''s body behind any easier. The boy had spent his final moments warning them all of the coming danger. He was the reason James called for the evacuation and the reason almost everyone was safely marching through the forest. He shook away the image. The only way to honor Louis''s sacrifice was to press on. James couldn''t stop his mind from wandering. Louis was dead - but what about Reid? He had no idea what shape his friend was in... or if he was still alive. Part of him still burned with the desire to charge into Bertrand''s camp and find Reid, to pull him out to safety with the rest of the group. But the time for that had long passed. James made a choice. A choice for his people to live, even though it meant he needed to leave Reid and Louis behind. He needed to square himself with that choice, he knew. He had to keep his mind in the present moment. But it was so damn hard. He caught another glimpse of Susan ahead, and frowned. She hadn''t spoken since final stand field. Not since James had told her that Reid was missing, and they couldn''t wait for him. Her eyes had gone to the walls and the invading soldiers, then they''d swelled with tears. Susan had sobbed quietly for a few minutes - and then went completely silent. She healed those that needed it, but her eyes and her actions were dulled. James swept his gaze over the rest of the column. He had a responsibility to them. They all needed to make it to their destination alive. Far ahead, Toby led the column forward. He wasn''t a first choice for... much of anything. But he was the only one of their group that had made the trek they were currently on - and he''d done it while carrying a dirtbike. James took some comfort in the fact that Walt and two other strong defenders were with Toby at the column''s head. If his estimates were correct, the group would reach their destination in another hour. It was a rise, close to the pathway Marlene''s scavenger convoy had used on their excursion. The convoy would be returning the same way, so they could flag down the group. There was no need for the convoy to head into the same danger his group had just escaped. He kept his goals simple. Get the group to the rise without stopping. Keep Bertrand''s people from catching up. He''d honor Louis and Reid by ensuring Sanctuary''s people would live to see the sunset. CH 34: Footprints Reid''s new pet healer walked in front of him, motivated on by the bone knife pressed against his back. Ahead, a group of men milled about in the dirt, chatting away with one another. A few held guns in their hands, but most had firearms slung over shoulders or on their backs. Unlike the group Reid encountered in the camp, almost everyone in this group seemed to be armed with some sort of gun. A larger man wearing a golf polo noticed the healer and waved. He held a shotgun by the barrel in his left hand. "Hey! Danny! What the fuck happened? Bertrand came through here like he was possessed, muttering something about meeting them in front of the wall, so we''ve been waiting out here for a while. And why''s he got the guys back at the tents doing target practice? Please tell me you''ve got some fucking idea who we''re supposed to be waiting for and what''s going on." Silence stretched for a few seconds, and the man shifted his focus to Reid. He smoothly brought his right hand over to the grip and trigger of his weapon, and others took notice. A few shifted the weapons in their hands, and others unslung guns from their backs. The healer - Danny, apparently - tried to slow. He stumbled as Reid pushed him forward. The man''s voice tinged with danger. "Hey - I don''t recognize the guy with you, Danny. Is he from Mather? Why don''t you introduce yourself, buddy." Reid took stock of the group. He counted three shotguns, a pair of hunting rifles, multiple pistols and machetes, unarmed men he assumed to be magic wielders, and one stout man that had an actual battle-axe. The group was so tightly packed, Reid couldn''t see the ones at the rear. The healer stumbled, and Reid grabbed him by his shirt to keep him upright. The man with the shotgun arched an eyebrow. "Hold on there, now!" He hefted the shotgun up and trained it on Reid. More guns shifted onto shoulders. For a second, Reid questioned whether this plan was the right one. Bertrand was the issue - and some of these men may not have followed Bertrand willingly. Reid wanted to give them a chance to surrender peacefully, if possible. What he would do with them later, he didn''t know. Reid was still a fair distance from the group - but it was close enough. He cleared his throat and shouted. "Put the guns down! I''m here for your boss! Surrender now, and I won''t kill you." A few people in the group exchanged glances. The man with the shotgun let out a deep laugh, and his gut shook and strained the fabric of his shirt. The man with the axe chuckled. No one else in the group moved. Reid kept his same, steady pace forwards. Dirt crunched under his one boot. The healer visibly squirmed, but the knife moved him forward. The shotgun man looked between Reid, Danny, and the camp. His brow furrowed, then his eyes went wide. "Oh, Shit!" His shotgun barked out flame and metal. Shotgun pellets tore through the healer and peppered Reid''s shirt with new holes. He let the man fall away and ducked into a low run. Cracks of rifle fire joined shotgun''s retorts, as projectiles lanced out and stung Reid all over his body. He blocked his eyes with an arm and sprinted through the bullets. He was steps away from the shotgun man when a sledgehammer smashed into his side and stopped his charge. The impact of the blow actually hurt, and it was strong enough to stumble Reid. He turned to face the attacker. The man was well-defined, and wore an overtight tank top with "I flexed and the sleeves fell off" in large bold letters on the front. He lifted the sledgehammer over his head for another powerful strike, but he wasn''t faster than Reid.. Reid jumped in close and grabbed the man''s head in his left hand before stabbing three times into his neck. The man''s sledgehammer fell to the ground. He was still pawing at his neck when Reid reached the next closest enemy. Reid''s fist slammed into their skull and shattered the back half of their head, then pressed forward to the next man. This group may have been better armed, but they were also less organized. Where the enemies in the camp had made a formation, these people were bunched together from their earlier casual conversations. They were too close together, too disorganized to effectively use guns or spells without hitting their allies - especially once Reid had bullied his way into the thick of the group. He threw devastating punches, and lashed out wildly with his knife. Nearly every strike hit something around him. A pair of men with machetes fell from a series of stabs with his knife. The stout man with the great axe missed Reid with an overcommitted swing, and Reid stabbed him in the head as he stumbled to regain his balance. Multiple pinpricks hit Reid''s ethereal self as magic users tried to get him with skills, and a single physical magic attack lanced out at him in the form of a jagged icicle. The surrounding enemies berated the mage about friendly fire, and the magic ceased. Reid ignored the small wounds he took, and focused on his violence. He stabbed at skulls, crushed necks, and plowed a path of carnage through the group. Soon, only two enemies were left standing. One was the man with the shotgun, and the other gripped a bolt-action rifle. The shotgun holder swore as he fumbled, shaking hands pulled shells out of his pocket and he tried to load his gun. The man with the bolt action was closer. Reid closed in and put a fist into - and through - the man''s abdomen. He stared, sputtering at Reid. Reid opened his fist, wrapped his fingers around the man''s spine, and crushed it in his grip. The man had passed out even before Reid pulled the mangled vertebrae back out through the hole in his stomach. He threw the bits of bone at the shotgun wielder, and closed in.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. A single shot retorted out of the shotgun, then it jammed. The man threw his gun at Reid, and lifted an arm over his shoulder. His arm - and the blade he''d just grabbed - came down at Reid from above. Reid raised his left forearm to block the blow - and watched as an ivory, clip-point blade swung down and cleaved open his skin. Reid grunted in pain, and narrowed his eyes. He flexed his left arm out to move the sword out of the way, and headbutted its wielder as he shouted. "That''s MINE!" It was not his best idea. The man''s skull exploded like a paintball and coated Reid''s face - and open, shouting mouth - in gore. Reid spat repeatedly, wiped his face with his hands, and wiped his hands on the back of his pants. When he finally got himself somewhat cleaned off, he kicked the man''s corpse and grabbed his newly reclaimed weapon. The handle still felt just right in his hand - and he realized he''d missed the thing more than he expected to. The knife was good, but having his sword would''ve made every fight he''d been in so much easier. He may have even stood a better chance against the fridge. But now, with two weapons, he could carve through any more hostile forces with even greater ease. He just needed to get his arm healed so he could wield both properly. He looked down at the enemies. A few were still crawling or crying on the ground - so he set to work and put them out of their misery. A dark part of him complained that this group wasn''t a challenge. It wished they''d put up more of a fight, and given him some sense of difficulty. Reid had only gotten minor wounds, aside from the cut made by his own sword. Outside of that, the only thing that had done any proper damage to him was the man with the sledgehammer. Reid finished off the last lingering enemy he''d seen, then sighed. He let the warmth of the morning sun embrace him for a long moment, then swept his eyes over the dead again - just to be sure he''d gotten them all. Reid''s eyes snapped to a still form. His weapons fell to the ground. Right outside the gate, a motionless body laid in the dirt. Dried blood surrounded it. Reid recognized the clothes. He looked back behind him - and saw the healer writhing on the ground. Reid sprinted back to the man and pulled him forward by the shirt until they were both at the gate. Reid''s eyes were wild. He shook the healer until the man stopped screaming. His own voice was high, and desperate. "FIX HIM!" "HEAL HIM!" The healer looked down, then back at Reid. He was jostled in Reid''s still-shaking arms as he cried out his words. "I''m sorry. I''m sorry! He''s already de-" Reid didn''t want to hear it. He didn''t want the excuse. The man HAD to do it. He HAD to heal Louis. Reid backhanded the healer with his free hand to stop his sentence. Louis couldn''t be dead. He wasn''t. The man''s jaw shattered under the force of the backhanded blow, and caved into the far side of his face. He screamed as blood and teeth both fell out of his head. Green light flared in the man''s hands as he clutched his head in agony. Reid tossed him to the side. He probed for the connection to the shackle. If the thing hadn''t been lying, it brought Reid back from the clutches of death. And if it did that once, it should be able to do it again. Reid would bargain. He would go back and let the beacon burn him again. He''d do whatever it took to make the thing fix Louis. Reid was already shouting as he unmuted it. "Heal Him! Heal him like you healed me!" Reid, that is not how the power works. Your healing does not transfer to others, and the connections that allowed such things are no longer usable. "I DON''T CARE! Do it anyway!" Reid, we cannot do this, no matter how much you want us to. We know what it is like to lose someone. We are... no. I... am sorr- He muted the shackle. No one could help him. No one could fix it. "FUCK!" His knees hit the ground, and tears welled in his eyes. He reached out with trembling arms. Reid lifted Louis into his lap, and stroked the top of the boy''s head. Dust fell away from his hair, and Reid''s hand shook violently every time it neared the open wound. The tears were running down Reid''s face now, and he rocked Louis back and forth in his arms. Reid took shuddering breaths as he squeezed Louis''s body tight, and he let himself grieve. # Reid''s eyes were still bleary when he finally noticed them. Dirty, bloody footprints covered the back of Louis''s shirt. Reid''s face twitched. His arms shook. Pressure built in his chest. He set his jaw and stood. Reid lifted Louis''s body, and walked it over to a patch of grass. He set it down gently with Louis''s face pointed towards the sky, then walked away and picked up his sword. His entire body vibrated with rage. He let it build. There were footprints on his back. Bertrand''s people killed Louis. They killed him, then they trampled his corpse. Reid let the rage churn. He let it grow, and felt the pull and the power of righteous justice it contained. Bertrand''s people were trash. They were all irredeemable. None of them deserved a chance to live. None deserved the opportunity to surrender. Reid needed to be whole for what would come next. He pushed his senses into his wounded arm, and knit the skin and muscle back together. Energy from his rage seemed to dull the usual pain and heat. When it was done, he grabbed the bone knife in his left hand, then lifted his head to the sky and screamed. Inside Sanctuary''s walls, trees shook as a primal roar echoed out over the landscape. All throughout the settlement, heavily-armed invaders reacted by trading weary looks and half-hearted jokes. That roar was full of rage, pain, and a promise of violence that sent a chill down their necks. Inside Reid, his anger churned. It rose in swells that threated to enveloped him, then broke and fell against Reid''s rock wall. They tempted him with sweet warmth, and righteous violence. Reid took a shuddering breath. Bertrand''s people deserved suffering. They all deserved every bit of violence Reid could manage. Reid threw himself into the waves of rage. CH 35: Shrimp \.,., Bertrand ,.,./ Bertrand stood next to Sanctuary''s beacon, and shook in his shoes. Today had started so wonderful. The scouting mission to find Sanctuary''s beacon had gone flawlessly, and the capture of the two buffoons on the wall was laughably easy. But then his skill - his divine gift - had glitched. Bertrand rubbed his face and his eye where his own knife had wounded him. It was healed now, but the pain and shock were still fresh. That kid - that stupid fucking kid - had lied to Bertrand, slipped out of his skill somehow, and wounded him! He deserved to die screaming - but Bertrand would never get the chance to see that happen. Instead, one of Bertrand''s riflemen did the work for him. He''d assumed the boy''s very public, very loud end would''ve kicked off a difficult battle that would make it impossible to pass his kill-restricted conquer quest. But he''d been so wonderfully wrong. Instead of kicking off a fight, the boy''s death started a full retreat. Bertrand couldn''t believe his luck. With the residents gone, he was all but guaranteed to complete the quest and move on to the next challenge before him. He watched the people run with a smile on his face. The cowards hadn''t even left traps for his men to stumble into. It felt like the work of a divine hand. It felt good. It confirmed Bertrand''s knowledge that he was destined to conquer and control the Earth. He''d started the takeover and gleefully watched the timer tick down. But the timer had stopped. Bertrand saw his losses rise, and had flown back to the tent with his most trusted bodyguard to investigate. And that''s when his skill failed for the second time. The fucking brute, of all people, had resisted Bertrand''s skill in a supremely unnatural way. And he''d done it so completely that Bertrand was physically hurt when he tried to apply control to the man. One failure could be a glitch. It could be a fluke or a flaw. Twice was a pattern. It was weakness. So Bertrand had made the very wise decision to get the hell away from the man. He''d even told some of his men to ready themselves for a fight as he ran past. When he reached the beacon, he strategized. Things could''ve played out a few different ways. His forces could kill the brute, or capture him - which would lead to the brute''s death, in either case. They might run him off into the woods like they''d run off the other residents, which was fine. Or they would fail, and the brute would make his way to Bertrand. If that happened? Bertrand had his sense of timing, and a lifetime of dealmaking to put things in his favor. Even if the man was a brute, Bertrand would find a way to reason and deal with him. He just needed to feel that the time was right. When the roar echoed out, he started to question his intuition. But it still told Bertrand he shouldn''t run - so he stood his ground. He''d called every man inside the walls to him, and they made up a set of defensive groups ready to kill a brute. They weren''t ready for a monster. Another agonized scream pierced the air. It lasted a full five seconds, then abruptly ceased. The screaming man''s legless corpse smashed through a pop-up camper and sailed through the air for a good thirty feet. It landed with a sick thud. Bertrand worked to calm himself. It wasn''t time. It wasn''t time to run, so they needed to stay and defend. If it wasn''t the right time to run, they had to stay and fight. One of his men broke ranks and tried to flee. Bertrand reached out with his skill and took control of the coward. He forced the man to stuff a pistol into his mouth, then pulled the trigger. His people needed a reminder that Bertrand was in charge. "Try to run, and I''ll kill you myself!" He shouted. "It''s one man! You can kill one man!" Bertrand doubted his words. A hail of gunfire peppered the monster''s body. A dozen small cuts and punctures were visible on his exposed skin. He was in the tattered, filthy remnants of a shirt and pants. One foot was bare, and the other rested in a blood-soaked boot that squelched with every step. He held a sword in his left hand that was dripping - the red liquid fell to the ground with soft plops. The knuckles on his right hand were raw - and one shone white where skin had worn away to show the bone. The monster''s eyes blazed red with fury. It rushed forward into a small group, and sunk its hand into a man''s abdomen. The man screamed as the monster tore out one of his ribs, then stabbed him in the throat with it. Another was grabbed by the skull - and the monster killed them by slowly shoving its sword into their ear. The third man died when the monster ripped off his lower jaw. The fourth was dragged off the ground by an arm, and spun over the monster''s head. It flung him at another of Bertrand''s men, and the two deformed into each other with a series of sickening crunches. The monster snapped the femur of the fifth, and pulled the sharded bone out of the man''s leg - then stuffed it down his throat. It was a level of depraved violence beyond what Bertrand and his men had done. And it was drawing closer. Bertrand watched the counter for his forces tick down. 21 The monster ran two men through the abdomen with its sword, then crushed their skulls against each other. 19 A mage wielding stone bullets drew the monster''s attention. It picked a small boulder off the ground and hurled it at the mage''s group. They turned to paste. 15 The monster put the flat of his hand into a man''s chest, and pulled out his heart. 14 A man''s head was torn off his shoulders. 13 The monster knocked a man to the ground, then ground his heel into their throat until it collapsed. 12 The top half of a torso fell to the ground, split by the heinous bone sword. 11 The monster grabbed a man''s hand and forced the shotgun he held up to his chin - then squeezed the trigger. 10 A trio of men were smashed open like pi?atas on the blunt side of the monster''s weapon. 7 His final five defenders - he wasn''t sure where the other last man was - charged forward. Or, rather, he made one of the defenders charge forward, and the others followed. The monster shrugged off most of their attacks, then roared and sent a kick towards the closest man. The monster''s foot snapped through a man''s femur. As he dropped to the ground screaming, the monster stomped in his chest. 6 The monster flipped its blade upside down, stabbed another man through the center of the abdomen, then lifted him. The man screamed as the force of gravity slowly drew him down into the sword - and split his upper body in half. 5 A man with all his points in dexterity seemed to almost blur around the monster. He dealt shallow, small cuts to multiple parts of the monster''s body as he slipped out and away from every blow the monster tried to land. Things seemed to turn in their favor. It wasn''t much damage, but if the man could just keep going, they could win the fight. The change in the fight seemed to spur the other final two men to action. One got in close, struck one, and was grabbed by the hair on the back of his head. The man''s screams rose in pitch as he was lifted off the ground. The monster dropped its weapon and put its other hand underneath the man''s chin, then squeezed. The screaming muffled even as it became more desperate, then the man''s jaw shattered. Bone fractured and pushed itself out the sides of the man''s cheeks, and he struggled ineffectively to get away. The screaming was inhuman, muffled - and ended when the monster finally pushed its hand up into the man''s skull. 4 The monster looked at its hands, full of bits of brain, and shook them clean. Gore spattered over the ground - and Bertrand''s two remaining men. The nimble one got the worst of it. A thick piece of grey matter splattered over his eyes - and left him stationary just long enough for the monster to reach him. It grabbed the man''s upper arm - then put its other hand on the man''s forearm and pulled in two different directions. The nimble man lashed out with free hand - strikes were wild and desperate as his arm was pulled off at the elbow. The monster''s grip shifted to the man''s other shoulder and arm. It ripped away from the socket in a messy, tangled tear. The man was crying now - something about his mother and god. The monster wound back, and slammed the man''s own severed arm into his skull.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. 3 The final living defender was one that had put all his points into constitution. If anyone could survive the monster, it would be him. But instead of standing his ground, the man tried to run. He didn''t outrun the monster. It tackled the man to the ground, then tried to tear the man''s arm off. Tried - and failed. The monster let out a frustrated roar, and punched the man in the back of the head. Blows landed like wrecking balls. The man on the ground bled - but he wasn''t dying. The monster huffed and stared at the man for a moment, then acted. It shoved two fingers into the man''s eye socket, then rotated its hand. The man shrieked and convulsed wildly as the monster fished around in his head like it was a pickle jar. It was an agonizing forty seconds before he stilled. 2 Why? Why did it still not feel like the right time to run? Was there still a chance to bargain? Could he still turn things in his favor and claim Sanctuary''s beacon? The monster turned to Bertrand.
+ Reid + Flashes of violence occurred at the edge of Reid''s awareness. Torn limbs and cracked skulls flitted in and out like shadows. He let the display of violence continue, and held himself contented in the waves. He waited there - until one flash was recognizable. One death that he didn''t want to just let happen. One bit of violent vengeance that he needed to steer. Reid forced himself out of the waves and back in conscious control over his body. Anger still boiled in his gut. He surveyed his surroundings. The surrounding area looked like a horror film. Limbs and heads littered the ground. Crushed and torn bodies told a simple story of incredible violence. Reid stood less than twenty feet from Sanctuary''s beacon. Bertrand was on the ground in front of him, shouting. "STOP! STOP! I''ll leave - let me leave and I won''t come back! I... You - You can hear me now, can''t you!? I promise I''ll leave. I''ll give you whatever you want. Do you want cars? I have cars. I can give you women - or men - or children! Do you want money? Gold? Everyone wants money. Just let me go, and you can have all of that!" Reid crouched down. Bertrand''s left arm was bent in four places, and his right was folded back in on itself in a decidedly unnatural way. One of his legs was twisted at the knee so his toes pointed backwards. His armor was dented in a few places, and Reid''s sword pinned him to the ground through his abdomen. There was fear in Bertrand''s eyes, and pain. But there was also defiance. Hope. Haughtiness. Bertrand looked like he knew he would get out of the situation somehow. Like he expected to get one over on Reid, now or later. Reid''s breaths were heavy and heaving. His muscles ached, and his body sported a wealth of new, small wounds. As Bertrand pleaded, a molten ball of hatred spun in Reid''s gut. Bertrand needed to suffer - he needed to experience more than pain. Reid wanted to make the man despair. He deserved to lose all his hope and defiance. That would be justice. An idea formed, and Reid turned towards the gate. His face twisted in a closed-lipped grimace, and he pulled his sword out of Bertrand''s abdomen. "I''m going to break you." Reid growled. "Not your arms, not your legs, not your ribs. I''m going to break YOU." Bertrand started to open his mouth, but stopped when Reid pointed a finger at him. "No offers. No deals. You killed Louis. He was getting BETTER, and you fucking killed him. A kid, full of potential and warmth and light, and you fucking killed him! You put me in a fucking cage! You don''t get to go anywhere, and you don''t get to die until I decide I''m done with you!" Bertrand screamed as Reid dragged him through the dirt. By the time they''d reached the front gate, Bertrand had passed out from his injuries. Reid left Bertrand inside the walls, and made his way over to where the still-wounded healer was desperately trying to fix his legs. His jaw was a mottled pinkish-red, and he was missing most teeth on the right side of his mouth. Reid watched a pellet pop out of the man''s skin as a small hole closed in his leg. When he looked up and saw Reid, the man froze. Reid frowned, then spoke. "Don''t heal that leg, or I''ll snap it. I have work for you to do, and I can''t have you wandering off." Reid dragged the healer inside the gate to where he''d left Bertrand, and threw him down on the ground. "Heal this piece of filth. Everything but the arms." # An hour later, Reid held Bertrand by the collar, and once again slammed a fist into the armor over his abdomen. It dented and deformed with each blow, and the man grunted and groaned with every impact. Reid had been talking between punches for a while now. He told Bertrand what a piece of shit he was. He told him what a mistake it had been to hurt Louis. Reid rambled on as his fists swelled and his arms grew even more sore. "And so because of you, our last conversation was about shrimp. They really are amazing, you sick fuck. Do you want to know why?" A blow put another dent in Bertrand''s armor. "The pistol shrimp can shoot water out of its hands." He struck Bertrand again. "And the Mantis Shrimp-" Bertrand tried to raise a broken arm to block the next blow. Reid batted it away, then slapped Bertrand in the head. "Is even better." Reid grabbed Bertrand''s more-intact elbow, and squeezed. He felt flesh and bone starting to condense and deform as he focused his power into crushing the joint. "It has this special horseshoe elbow, that it can use to-" Bertrand screamed as the bones in his elbow fractured and the skin tore. Reid slapped him in the face again. "Don''t interrupt me. It can use it to punch as fast as a speeding-" He sent another blow into Bertrand''s stomach. "Bullet!". Reid frowned. Even after multiple cycles of abuse and healing, Bertrand seemed like he was holding onto some sort of hope. Still looked like he knew that if he just waited long enough, he would be able to convince Reid to let him go. Reid stopped hitting Bertrand for a full two minutes while he thought of what to do next - and then he smiled. He''d finally figured out something important. Reid had figured out how Bertrand was going to die. He took in Bertrand''s state. The man took the reprieve as a chance to make deals, and was sputtering out some dumb offer. His armor looked like a piece of modern art. His nose was broken again, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. The healer was in better shape, but not by much. Reid had forced him to overuse his skill - and the man looked sickly pale. He''d gotten just a bit worse after every round of healing done to Bertrand, but Reid was certain he could keep going - at least long enough for Bertrand''s final rounds of suffering. He walked over and grabbed the man by the shirt, and dragged the two behind him. Bertrand stopped his pleading. "Come on. We''re taking a walk." After a minute of walking in silence, Reid smiled, and turned to talk to Bertrand. "Time for a quiz, Bertrand - what can the Pistol Shrimp and the Mantis Shrimp both do? I''ll even give you a hint - it''s something that doesn''t apply to you. And! It''s not about punching. That would be too obvious." Reid twisted around to see the man. "Come on, take a guess. You have until we stop to figure it out." Reid said nothing else for the next few minutes as he dragged Bertrand and the healer behind him. Bertrand didn''t try to answer the question. Instead, he started pleading again for Reid to let him go. Reid never upped his pace from a slow walk. This felt good, and he wanted to savor it. When Reid''s bare foot touched sand, he stopped and tossed the healer forwards onto the beach. Reid hauled Bertrand up in the air, and held him close. He stared into Bertrand''s eyes. There was regret, confusion, and still a flicker of hope and defiance. "Time''s up! Now, let''s hear the answer - what can the Mantis shrimp and the Pistol shrimp do that you can''t?" Reid turned Bertrand around so he could see the lake. "They can both breathe underwater." # Reid held Bertrand by the neck, and slowly lowered the thrashing man into the cool water. He''d only walked out far enough this time for the water to rise to his calves. Water splashed up onto Reid''s shirt. Some hit him in the face - but he kept his grip tight as water churned and air escaped from Bertrand''s lungs. The man tried to push himself off the sand, or kick himself up and out of Reid''s grasp, but he held firm. After a time, Bertrand stopped actively fighting and seemed to seize up, muscles twitching, then started to go limp. Reid hauled him up out of the water and back to shore. He laid the man down on his back, and slapped the healer awake. "Do it again." Light flared, and after a few moments, Bertrand coughed up water and sucked in air. The healer fell back to the ground - he was almost out of steam, which meant Reid needed to make the next drownings count. Reid waited for Bertrand to finish coughing up water and for him to breathe normally, then grabbed Bertrand by his collar and dragged him back towards the water. The first time he''d drowned, Bertrand still had defiance in his eyes. The second time Reid dragged him out to the water, there was still hopeful desperation. Now, both the defiance and the hope seemed entirely gone. Reid smiled. Bertrand screamed and sobbed. "I''ll give it to you! I''ll give you everything! You can have it! I''ll transfer it over now! See? Here! You have my entire empire! Control of all my territory! Bertland belongs to Sanctuary now! So stop - just stop, please, just let me go! You have everything I can possibly give you! Just, please, oh god please let me g-ouaghshbulgurngb" Reid shoved Bertrand back into the water - face up this time. When Reid dragged Bertrand''s limp body back onto the beach, the healer took two slaps to awaken. "I... I think this is the last time I can bring him back. It k-keeps getting h-harder." Reid''s face set into a flat line, and he nodded. "That''s fine." When Bertrand was done sputtering, Reid crouched down, and looked into the man''s eyes. There was no flicker of hope. Just fear... and despair. Reid stood, and slowly dragged Bertrand back towards the water. The man whimpered. He didn''t plead. "Here''s your final fun fact, Bertrand." Reid half shouted. He stopped in the shallows, got down on his knees, and brought Bertrand''s face to his own. His words were flat. "Shrimp nest in the mud." Reid gripped the man''s neck like iron, and shoved his face into the silt. Bertrand thrashed violently. Mud flew as he tried to claw it away from his face with broken arms. Every time he dug more out, Reid pushed him further down. Bertrand''s entire body spasmed and shook - only his head was stationary in Reid''s grip. Limbs flailed wildly, then less wildly. They twitched, and stilled. Reid held Bertrand''s face down in the mud long after the man had stopped twitching. He kept holding it there, until his hands were pruny and the churned mud settled back down in the water. Reid had expected to feel some measure of peace. He''d wanted to feel good. Just. Like he''d balanced the scales. In the act, Reid felt right and righteous - content in Bertrand''s suffering and his own escalating violence. But now, he didn''t really feel anything - no, that wasn''t quite right. Reid felt... hollow. He felt adrift. He looked over at Sanctuary. The roof of the Rec hall peeked out from above a line of trees. He realized he hadn''t even stopped there to look for Susan - neither on his rampage, nor after. Why hadn''t he done that? His mind wandered. Why hadn''t he spent more time with Louis? There was so much he hadn''t done.... and so much he couldn''t do. He could never hear another animal fact from Louis. He''d never tell the boy another story from his youth. Louis wouldn''t ever get any better mentally. He wouldn''t face the shadows hiding in the corner of his mind. He wouldn''t do anything at all. There was so much.... wrong, with that. And there was nothing Reid could do about it. But there was something he could still do for the boy. With a long, shuddering breath, Reid stood. He threw Bertrand''s dead body onto the beach, and stared down at it. "You don''t deserve a grave." Reid said. He stepped on Bertrand with his right foot as he walked over to the healer, leaving a muddy footprint on the dented armor. "But Louis does." CH 36: Aspirations + Reid + A few hundred feet from a dirt road littered with corpses, a man wearing tattered, bloodstained rags and a single boot tapped down dirt on a freshly filled-in grave. With his strength - and the creation of a bone shovel - Reid had managed to dig the hole in a handful of minutes. He''d spent more time trying to find the right sheet to wrap Louis''s body than he had digging the hole. Then he spent even more time than that standing wordless over the open grave. He''d questioned himself then - should he wait to bury Louis? If he didn''t, how could he store the boy''s body? Was there some sort of religious ritual that he should be performing, or maybe Louis didn''t want to be buried at all? The questions swirled and gnawed at him. Reid wasn''t good with death. He never had been. And so, he''d stayed there in the growing daylight - failing to think of a good way to say goodbye. When he''d finally exhausted a suite of rhetorical questions and had given up on words, Reid shoveled dirt back into the hole and tamped it down. He forced himself to walk away. He''d have time to mourn Louis - plenty of time. But it was easier right now to focus on other things. One of the first things Reid did was gather food and water for himself, and the healer. Feeding Danny wasn''t exactly selfless - he''d already had the man start healing him, and he''d need more of the man''s magic soon enough. A bit of sustenance would ensure Danny didn''t pass out partway through the process. They were both sat in the Rec Hall, eating protein bars that tasted like grilled soap. Neither complained. The healer, Danny, had gained some color back to his skin. It was incredible what a bit of rest and a few calories could do. Danny was in a spare cage that Reid had found in Bertrand''s tent - along with a few sleeping bags and some blankets. Reid didn''t like the idea of caging anyone, but the man had been part of Bertrand''s group. Reid wasn''t going to give him an inch of freedom that he could potentially use to cause trouble or show his true colors. He wasn''t going to force the man to sleep on the cold metal, though. Reid wasn''t a monster, despite how Danny reacted to him. Every time Reid neared the cage, moved quickly, or raised his voice, Danny flinched with his full body. Reid stared at the man''s jaw with a frown. It was blatantly obvious why he reacted the way he did, but Reid didn''t have the mental energy to figure out how to start smoothing things over there. He also didn''t know if he wanted to. The man had started the day as part of Bertrand''s army, after all. Reid told himself that it was something he could figure out and solve in time - when there weren''t other, pressing concerns. While Reid''s injuries were all mostly healed, there was ample work that needed to be done to his body. He''d gained another level going through Bertrand''s men, and was sitting on a significant amount of unrealized strength. Level: 11 -> 12 Control: 60 -> 65 He needed to fix that, and fix it now. The hard lesson that colored the day was simple. Reid wasn''t strong enough. It didn''t matter that he could take out the salamanders that attacked the walls. It didn''t matter that he was bulletproof, or that he was strong enough to move a literal ton of dirt in just a few minutes of digging. Reid had failed. If he was more powerful, Reid could''ve killed his attackers on the wall, and he and Louis would never have gotten kidnapped. If he had more constitution, he would''ve lasted longer before he blacked out. If he was more dexterous, he might''ve been able to slip out of the hold entirely. If he had more perception, Reid would''ve seen the attack coming. And if Reid was more intelligent, Louis would''ve never been on that wall in the first place. Reid ground his teeth. The solution was more. More power, more constitution, more everything. Reid needed to be enough, on his own, that no problem could stop him and no enemy could slow him down. He''d already encountered people with abilities that could take over a person''s body or greatly boost their strength. He''d found someone more powerful than he was. These were not isolated incidents. Earth was changed and people were changed, and that meant Reid needed to stay ahead of the curve. There was no time to stay idle... or to be comfortable. There was improvement, or there was death. Reid wasn''t going to wait around to see who died the next time he let a chance at power slip by. He gruffly told Danny to keep healing him, no matter what happened. There was power waiting - he just needed to be willing to endure what it took to gain it. Reid put the handle of the bone dagger between his teeth, and dove into himself.
~ Marlene ~ The truck''s plastic grab handle cracked in Marlene''s grip. Her eyes were wide, focused on the text in front of her view. The driver and everyone in the backseat had long stopped asking questions about what was going on or why she was acting strangely. Marlene hadn''t wanted to share too much about the quest details until they were closer - she couldn''t spend the entire trip giving updates on the number of Sanctuary''s losses, after all. But it turned out she had nothing to worry about on that front. The enemies defeated tracker had steadily increased, while Sanctuary incurred no losses. Everything went suspiciously smoothly - and then the new sets of notifications appeared. - Enemy Leader, [Bertrand] has willingly given control of all [Bertland] beacons to [Sanctuary]! Sanctuary now owns: [Bertland], [Mather], [Margaret], [Rice''s Landing], (+12...) Ownership of multiple beacons has unlocked new functions! New title slots unlocked. New beacon ownership options unlocked. New governance and rules settings unlocked. Congratulations!: Ownership of 10 beacons has unlocked Lord Candidacy Options! Please officially name your Lord Candidate. If a candidate is not selected in 3d 23h 37m, a system-enforced vote from all Sanctuary Citizens will be held to decide the candidate. If no clear winner is selected, the highest leveled Sanctuary resident will automatically be appointed. - Quest Completed: Defend Sanctuary from Attack by Bertland Final Performance: Total Losses: 0 Enemy Forces Defeated: 100 / 101 Enemy Leader Defeated: 1 / 1 Secret Challenge Completed: Overwhelming Defense You completed a defense quest by conquering every enemy beacon! Secret Challenge Completed: Overthrown Majority You conquered the largest enemy empire on [Earth]! Secret Challenge Completed: The Price of Failure You defeated the enemy leader after completing the defense quest! Bonus Experience awarded for completing secret challenges Bonus Experience awarded for capturing an enemy beacon (x13) Bonus Experience awarded for capturing the enemy HQ Bonus Experience awarded for taking no quest losses Bonus Experience awarded for defeating more than 99% of enemy forces Bonus Experience awarded for defeating the enemy leader Bonus Experience awarded for defeating a Lord Candidate Congratulations! You have achieved extremely high performance. Difficulty increased for all other quests. Timeline accelerated for all other quests. - Quest Resumed: Defend Sanctuary from enemy Salamanders ( 30 ). Defense begins in 1h 33m. - She shuddered - a mix of excitement and worry filled her. Marlene read and re-read every bit of text in front of her. Her gaze lingered on the lord candidate selection, and she came close to punching in her own name. If Marlene named herself the lord candidate, she would solidify her leadership role permanently and gain even more control and command over Sanctuary and the other settlements the system mentioned. She could establish new rules and... well, she wasn''t actually quite sure what else she would be capable of if she took the power for herself.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. She also wasn''t certain what would be required of a lord candidate. Marlene wasn''t naive enough to think that being a lord candidate would be entirely sunshine and rainbows - it was bound to come with a series of hard challenges that any candidate would need to overcome. It might also include tests to one''s mental fortitude, or could require politicking and dealmaking with outside entities. There was also a chance that a lord candidate would have some sort of restrictions placed on them as part of their testing - or that they might be whisked away somewhere else during the tutorial. Marlene thought of Sara. The girl''s growth and entire contract was stipulated on her becoming a lord herself - and it didn''t seem like Sanctuary was going to have room for two people to take on that title. Marlene went through the possibility of Sara having to face all of those same things. What would the girl do if the system restricted her to a low level of power and had her fight something? What would happen if she had to choose between two undesirable solutions? Marlene had taken the girl under her wing, and she was a quick learner - but was Sara ready? Marlene wasn''t certain. The logical answer was no. She was still too dependent on and connected to her parents. If she was elevated to a position of power now, Susan or Reid''s tendencies might bleed into her governance and decision making. She was also far from combat tested - no amount of training with James would prepare Sara for actually having to fight and hurt - or kill - another human being. With Sanctuary''s attackers dead, there might not be a situation where such a thing could happen anytime soon. So Sara wasn''t ready. She needed to grow more independent of her parents, and she needed to experience real conflict. Marlene needed to see how she would do in those situations. And yet - taking the power for herself might have disastrous consequences down the line. Marlene and Sara had been working together to puzzle out how someone would become royalty in the eyes of the system. The girl had theorized that Marlene was likely going to be given whatever initial titles the system offered, simply by being the leader of Sanctuary. She might be persuaded that Marlene was automatically selected as the lord candidate after the quest completed. But what if the system revealed that Marlene had chosen herself? Even if it didn''t come out now, the news that Marlene had passed Sara over for a chance at becoming royalty would sting like a betrayal to the girl. She couldn''t just think of the now - Marlene had to consider the future. What choice would mean the most for the Marlene and Sara 20 years from now? What would best position herself as an aide and voice of guidance? There was also the promise to Reid. If he found out that Marlene was sitting on something that would''ve been helpful to his daughter and she didn''t give it to her? He''d be pissed. Possibly angry enough that he''d take his wife and daughter, and leave. That wouldn''t be a desirable outcome either. Marlene was going to keep her promise - she never made those lightly, which was also why she usually never made promises at all. She was serious about doing everything she could for Sara - it was just that elevating her to a position of power now felt like it might be the wrong decision. If Marlene was promised to do the best thing for Sara, didn''t that include making the tough calls like this one? Wasn''t preventing Sara from encountering potential issues the same as keeping her safe? Heck, Marlene might even be able to find a workaround in the system - like acting as Regent until Sara turned twenty, then giving power over to her. Or ceding the title to the girl directly. Marlene shook her head. She was going in circles and working in hypotheticals. There were days to make a call on the Lord Candidate decision. Other matters were more pressing. Her attention turned to the rest of the notifications. Sanctuary''s defenders had hung on and done an unbelievably great job of defending their home. She had no idea how they convinced ''Bertrand'' to hand over the rule of his kingdom, but no doubt, James and Reid were both heavily involved. In any case, they''d done too well and the difficulty of their other quests had increased as a result. The number of Salamanders was unchanged, which meant there must be another level increase that would apply to the monsters. Marlene worried on the consequences of that. How would Sanctuary fare with a wave so close to the end of the defense quest - especially if Reid and the other defenders were still spent from fighting? Sure, Susan would be capable of healing many of their people rapidly, but that didn''t mean they''d all be ready for a stronger set of salamanders. She wasn''t even sure if the other defenders could kill stronger beasts. Everything they''d faced until now was under level 10. Most hadn''t even seen those higher-leveled versions of the beasts that doubled in size and gained sharper claws and thicker skulls. If that''s what the wave consisted of - would their walls hold? Would Reid be forced to kill the wave himself? The plastic handle splintered in Marlene''s hand. There was a high chance Reid was going to have to kill everything, and cause another difficulty increase. If that happened, Sanctuary''s regular defenders would be hard pressed to keep up at all. Sanctuary could fall, or they might end up in a self-fueling situation where Reid would have to kill the majority of the salamanders each wave to keep everyone else safe, then the difficulty might increase, and it would repeat until neither Reid nor the other defenders would be able to stop it. Marlene checked her watch. Even with their current speed, they wouldn''t arrive at Sanctuary until an hour after the salamander wave had started. The only things she could do were to hope Reid didn''t kill all the salamanders in the next wave, and mentally plan out how to strengthen Sanctuary''s defenses for whatever came next. She wouldn''t allow things to spiral out of control. Not now. Not when she''d just been handed the keys to make her protege into a royal - or to claim the title herself.
-{///} Finola {///}- Finola choked on her drink. The concoction was some sort of slushed fruit combined with a delectable high-grade alcohol, and held the honorable ''favorite drink'' title from the spa she found herself in. The spa day was a once-a-month treat Finola allowed herself. It gave her free space to view her work and decisions from a distance, and kept her from burning out over the decades of endless tasks that came with being part of such a high ranking consortium. Generally, nothing interrupted the spa days unless it was of the highest priority. Two of those high-priority messages had just interrupted her with the most surprising news. The first was insane. It had happened again. Sanctuary was attacked by some other fledgling force. That wasn''t a rare occurrence. After all, the system had always set things up so that, pre-tutorial, killing fellow people gave far more experience than killing beasts. Philosophers always put forward theories about conditioning people for battle, or that only the strongest humans should survive an awakening. But all of that was ill informed bullshit. Anyone with enough experience dealing with the system awakenings understood the truth. Beasts were artificially limited in xp rewards pre-tutorial so that they had time on a planet to grow and evolve. It was just an incentive for the awakened species to leave them alive. If people finished the tutorial and came back to a world without beasts, it would cripple the system''s roadmap for the subsequent global quests. "Fixing" that would require extra energy on the system''s part - so instead, it just made it less desirable to kill beasts. The knock-on effect was it became more desirable to kill other people. Sure, there was an added benefit of potentially filtering out the weak, but if the system truly wanted people to kill each other, they would remain a better XP source than beasts during and after tutorials. Even inside the tutorials themselves, beast xp gains were massively higher than they would be prior to the start of the tutorial. Heck, even prior to the tutorial, a person could get the ''real'' xp from beasts if they found and beat a challenge dungeon. So, all that to say that it was natural for conflicts to occur between people. The system would help things along with conflict-related quests when people became eligible, and very, very infrequently, incredible performance or full-trick skills would result in someone earning a high enough rating to gain an overall difficulty increase. But Sanctuary now had four difficulty increases associated to it. And again, as she read through the full notification summary, the main contributor was unknown. They''d summarily reversed the attack and gained control of over a dozen beacons at once. Things like that generally didn''t happen until after the tutorial was complete. People just weren''t strong enough, or hadn''t come into their skills well enough to make something like that happen. Her first thought was that the rats on Earth had gotten another one over on her. But the second message put an end to that notion. Earth, as a planet whose awakening was sponsored by the Blasdej consortium, had a series of sensors around the planet to catch any teleportation or mundane methods of space travel. Her aide had reviewed all logs, and found absolutely nothing. Inquiries - both soft and hard - had turned up no family that tried to sneak onto the planet. There were no traces of... well, anything. The report was exceptionally thorough, and it all supported one conclusion. There was no outside party on Earth. Finola wished she could go to Earth herself. The damn restrictions in place would make that impossible, though. Nothing above G grade would be allowed to enter the planet''s atmosphere, and Finola had left that grade behind long ago. She wanted to risk the system''s backlash anyway. Because, all the evidence in front of her was saying that a true monster had been born on Earth. One that had caused an unprecedented four pre-tutorial difficulty increases. One that had self-affixed, and gained power despite the innate challenges of growth that came with such a path. One that was still unaffiliated, and that she could have killed by putting her beacon burnouts in place. Finola requested a high priority teleport, and quickly found herself in her office. Drops of the drink were still sinking into the fabric of her shirt as she rushed to change the beacon burnout code. She had fucked up, badly. If the self-affixer touched the beacon, they''d die. She would be responsible for ending a potential massive future powerhouse, and both she and the Blasdej consortium might be obliterated by the backlash. One of the oldest parts of Blasdej''s contracts with the system stipulated that they could not interfere with someone who chose to grow unassisted by the contract''s convenience. Burning out a self-affixer with the beacon could doom the entire company. Her finger hovered over the contact request button. She should inform Loz''ar, she knew. He needed to be aware that an epic calamity might have happened on Earth. She hesitated, then stilled. Either they were going to suffer backlash, or they weren''t. But Finola could at least bury the evidence. She ordered her assistant to destroy all reports and findings related to Earth, and started doing so herself. Then she created a number of falsified, poorly written and poorly supported reports to take their place. If there was going to be backlash, she would soften it with a trick she hadn''t needed to use in over a thousand years - weaponized incompetence. CH 37: Secret Unlock + Reid + Reid distinctly heard and felt cracking bone - he wasn''t sure whether it was the knife, or another one of his teeth. He made himself spit out the knife just in case. Reid was full of shrill, burning pain - even with Danny healing. And Reid could tell he was being healed. The issue was that every increase he was wringing out of himself felt like it was miles more advanced and difficult than the earlier points had been. The process was longer and more painful - but Reid knew it would be entirely worth it. When he''d finished, his body screamed at him to take a break, but he ignored it. It wasn''t time to rest. It was time to try something new. Reid tried to focus in on his body''s systems the same way he''d done when he gained perception. He wasn''t quite sure where to start on this one. The thing that had kickstarted his growth earlier had been the sedative he was injected with, and Reid wasn''t about to pump himself full of drugs just for a chance at stat gains - at least not while there were other things to try. The only other things he could think of that might act in a similar manner were what he was ingesting. The protein bar was only half-digested, and he figured he could probably find some water inside him that he''d just drank. But there was something else - something that was continuously entering and exiting Reid that he could consider. Air. Reid forced himself to travel from his mouth down into his lungs, then followed a bit of oxygen as it was carried off into his body. He got a bit turned around, though, and decided to head back to the lungs. There, he followed the carbon dioxide out of his lungs, then out further and- Water splashed into Reid''s mouth and completely broke his concentration. He was pissed. That had felt like the verge of something really interesting, and now it was gone, and Reid was out of himself - and incomplete. There was something there. Something waiting to be discovered. He knew, now, that he could raise another stat. Maybe not by much, but he could do it. Reid sputtered and spat out the water, then quickly brought up his status. Danny was yelling something from the cage, but Reid ignored it for a minute.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 12 Health: 286 / 300 Experience: 77,819 / 102,400 STATS: Constitution: 20 -> 30 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 6 Perception: 6 Power: 24 -> 32.5 Control: 65 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR RESISTANCES: Substances - Sedatives Active Skill Effects- All RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
It was a good gain. His constitution had gone up further than before, and his power had taken a large leap forward. His gains elsewhere were... well, they were nonexistent. But Reid felt like he was onto something there. He finally turned his attention to the panicking healer. "You have to get up! Please! Let me out! Something''s coming!" Reid was about to ask the man what he was talking about when the all-too-familiar low pitched screech of a high leveled salamander echoed out. That wasn''t right - they should''ve had another day before the damn things attacked again. Reid cursed, and quickly searched for his weapons. He swore again when he realized he''d cracked the dagger with his teeth. His dagger looked ready to shatter as soon as he used it, so Reid left it on the floor. If only there was a way to repair his weapons, he mused. Reid shook away the thoughts and grabbed the only other thing in the rec hall that stood a chance at damaging the salamanders. He marched towards the door, sword in one hand - and a shovel in the other. Reid had already told himself today he wasn''t going to pass up chances at power. And there were a group of power-ups waiting for him outside the walls. # The salamanders were not waiting outside the walls. They squeezed themselves through a break in Sanctuary''s immensely thick wooden walls. Every one that Reid could see sported the telltale aquamarine claws and glowing orange eyes of a level 10 version of the beasts. Reid set his jaw. The last time he''d fought these things, Oscar died and Marlene was seriously injured. The first time he took one on, Reid had suffered a severed bone in the fight. But he was more than twice as powerful and twice as durable as he had been during those fights. He''d even had some actual combat training. This time, he told himself, is going to be a lot different. Reid swapped the shovel to his right hand, and sprinted forward. When the salamanders noticed him, they charged. All four tore into the dirt as they approached - and Reid was ready. He stopped himself and shifted his grip to the very end of the shovel''s handle, then swung it out at the beasts. It whipped through the air and cratered the side of one''s skull - but no kill notification popped up. The force of the blow did send the beast careening into its brethren, and two salamanders hit the ground in a tangle. Two out of the immediate fight on the opening strike wasn''t a bad thing at all. Reid let momentum carry the shovel up and around his head in a full 360, and lashed out with it again at the next closest beast. This time, he tilted the shovel so the edge would connect - and it did more damage than Reid was expecting. The salamander''s arms were cut nearly all the way through, and a good portion of its torso was sliced open. Reid swapped to the sword and managed to thrust up into the wounded salamander''s brain from the chin while the thing was still stunned from the shovel cut. The salamander fell to the ground as the kill notification appeared. Reid ducked and rolled to avoid a clawed strike from the fourth original salamander inside the walls, and lashed out with the shovel like it was a spear. It sunk deep into the salamander''s back, and Reid was able to lift the creature up and throw it into the still-recovering duo from earlier. If only he''d made a spear instead... Reid felt a tingle of possibility as he looked at the bone shovel, but he didn''t have time to explore it. The thrown and injured salamanders were recovering. Reid ran over and stabbed through one''s eye before it could get vertical. Another died to a shovel thrust up into its brain from below. The last one, Reid stomped to death. By the time he''d finished, a fifth salamander was just about through the crack in the wall. Reid smiled. They were serving themselves up on a silver platter, and he was all for it. Reid was going to end this wave. And then he was going to unravel a mystery.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
~ Marlene ~ Marlene - and everyone else in the truck - nearly had a heart attack when the walkie talkie squawked to life. They were still way too far out of range from the settlement, so no one had expected any communications. Toby''s voice crackled through. "...had to evac-...-forces. We''re-...-woods, repeat, do not go to Sanctuary, it''s controlled by Bertrand''s forces, we had to evacuate... Hey Walt, how long do we need to keep doing this?" The walkie talkie clicked off and Marlene jumped on the opportunity. She demanded to speak with James, and after a bit of an energetic kerfuffle with the boys, her husband was on the other end of the conversation. Marlene let him clarify the situation from his end without adding anything in return. She''d been keeping the state of things from her team in the truck, and it wouldn''t do now to reveal too much all at once. James, though, was horror-struck. He''d had to leave Reid behind, alone and captured - and Louis had died. Marlene now knew where the further losses portion of her system messages came from. She swore quietly - Louis was a bright kid with a bright future, and she hated losing him. The realization felt like it happened in slow motion, and accompanied a growing horror in her gut. James had left Reid alone, captured by Bertrand''s forces. Which meant Reid had escaped - there was no way the man had talked himself free - and then went on a rampage against an army. Every tick she''d seen on the enemies defeated tracker was Reid, fighting alone. It was insane. Reid hadn''t killed a person prior to the awakening, she knew. And almost everyone had trouble dealing with their first. The only exceptions were for those well trained - which Reid wasn''t, if someone was desperate, or that they''d always been capable of true violence and the mask had finally slipped off. From what Marlene could tell, going back through the changes in the counters, Reid had gone from engagement to engagement in short order and taken out nearly everyone in a relatively short timeframe. Maybe there was desperation there - but it didn''t seem like Reid had struggled too much. Whatever he''d done to the army had convinced this Bertrand to give up all of his controlled beacons. Marlene tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. Reid had done everything. That meant he was also responsible for all of the secret challenges. After Bertrand had turned over all of his beacons, after he was defeated, Reid had still killed him. There was grey area to every other enemy kill. They could''ve been necessary, or at least justifiable. But killing the enemy leader after they''d turned over everything? That seemed a hell of a lot like murder. She knew Reid was capable of incredible violence, but - Marlene shuddered. If Reid had snapped mentally, she didn''t want to be there to experience it. And if he was in that state and learned about Marlene''s indecision on giving Sara power she needed? She shook her head and quickly awarded the xp from the beacon defense and secret challenges - all 95,000 of it - to Sara. There was no point in sitting on the experience right now, especially not if she needed to placate Reid. Marlene turned ideas in her mind. Reid had kept one of the attackers alive - which meant he shouldn''t be completely off the rails. She could reserve judgement on his mental state until she spoke to Reid directly - and ideally, questioned the survivor. There were too many unknowns to fully plot herself a path forward, but one thing was certain. She wasn''t going to let anyone else inside the walls until she''d gotten a chance to speak with Reid. She needed to control this situation, as much as she could. The notification hit a few minutes later. - Quest Completed: Defend Sanctuary from enemy Salamanders (30) Congratulations! You have achieved high performance. Difficulty increased for all other quests. NOTICE: You have completed all standard pre-tutorial beacon defense quests! Bonus experience awarded for finishing a questline. Finishing a questline with high performance has unlocked secret events. New secret event Quest assignment pending. Please wait... - "What the fuck!?" Marlene''s outburst drew the attention of everyone in the truck, and she realized she was also holding down the talk button on her walkie talkie. Confused squawking came through the speaker, and she was forced to steady herself. Reid, after running through an entire army and taking almost no rest time, had finished off the salamander wave in less than 20 minutes. Even more worrying was the new special message about secret events. What the hell was their next quest going to be after salamanders? What could the system possibly throw at them now? Everyone was staring at her, she realized. Marlene centered herself and pushed forward a plan. "Something strange happened with the system, and it might have unintended repercussions for us. There shouldn''t be an enemy threat at Sanctuary anymore, but we still need to be careful and investigate. James, I''ll have two of our vehicles stop and pick up the people with you that most need rides. My truck and my team are going to forge ahead and investigate what happened. We''ll let you know when it''s safe to come home." There - simple. Marlene could figure out what kind of state Reid was in, take stock of their settlement itself, and steer any following narrative however it needed to be done. The "Please wait..." message was still active in her view. What kind of challenge would they have to face next? And, what sort of menace would they be coming home to?
+ Reid + Reid sang to himself in the Rec Hall as he did a disco-dance in celebration. Danny rocked back and forth inside the cage, clearly feeling the effects of the half-empty whiskey bottle he was holding. Maybe giving the healer alcohol wasn''t the best idea, but Reid needed someone to celebrate with. He''d made a hell of a breakthrough, after all. Reid picked up where he''d left off following the air in his body following the uneventful fight with the high leveled salamanders, and quickly got himself back into the in-out rhythm of the air. When he inhaled, the air was there outside of him, but it was different from his body - almost like it was less tangible. When he exhaled, though, he could follow the air right up until it exited him - and then could still feel it, outside of himself. He tried to affect the air outside of him, but failed. No matter how hard he pushed, or how much he tried to will energy to do something to the gas, it wouldn''t work. There was something there - he knew it. Parts of him that were sent out into the environment, that were still things he could influence and investigate. He could feel the air, but he couldn''t touch it. Reid nearly slapped himself on the forehead. Something he could touch. Something that was outside of him, but was ostensibly part of him. Something he could control and affect. He scrambled up and found his cracked dagger, then sat cross legged as he held it in his open palms. Reid pushed his senses down into his hands, and let himself - his sense of self - build in the flat and into each finger. He felt the weight of his weapon. Felt the outline of it on his skin. Felt the surface of it - but just the surface. Reid pushed a bit of himself up, towards the weapon. It felt... off. Like he was standing in front of a door that should be pulled, but he could only push. He tried sending in less of himself, then more, then tried to make multiple tendrils of force and energy to touch the dagger with. The last part seemed like it was more on track. He refocused efforts there, and sent more, then more, then even more of his self-energy out and to the dagger in his palms. He could nearly feel the entire thing now - his energy was almost enveloping it, and he felt close. So close. Reid exerted even more of his energy. The strain was giving him a headache, but he ignored it and pressed on. He could sense it. He just needed to fully wrap the dagger with his energy. No gaps, no holes, no unexplored or unknown sections. He needed to be aware of the entire weapon, all at once. Everything shifted into place with a jolt of clarity that nearly made Reid lose his focus. The dagger in his hand was him. It would always be part of him. And if he could manipulate himself with his energy, he could manipulate things that were him, no matter where they were. Excitement took him, and Reid plunged himself down into the weapon properly. Where before he could see the damage, now Reid could feel the cracks and weaknesses. He could sense the chips on the blade where it had started to wear, and the tiny fractures that threatened to break the weapon over time. Every imperfection and bit of wear were like injuries within his own body. With a shuddering breath, Reid pushed energy and his will into the bone dagger. If his body was injured, he could repair it. If the dagger was part of him... He told the dagger to repair itself, to grow connections between the cracks and close the fractures. He told it to fix the edge of the blade and leave it sharper than before. A massive amount of energy was pulled from somewhere deep inside of him, and Reid felt the weapon knitting itself back together. It was slower than his internal healing, but not by much. Another difference was even more notable - healing his weapon didn''t put Reid in unbearable pain. There was only the usual headache, and even that felt a bit subdued. When the dagger was fully healed, a series of notifications popped into view. Congratulations! Secret Calcification Enhancement Unlocked: Osteal Smithing! NOTICE! Prerequisite Conditions Met - Possess One Enhancement! Status - Enhancements - Unlocked! Control: 65 -> 70 Perception: 6 -> 11 Reid was ecstatic. He danced, and drank, and let his prisoner drink. When the energy faded, he told himself, he''d go back in and take advantage of the extra control points. For now, he just needed to bask in the accomplishment, just for a moment. Reid had done something that he didn''t think was even possible, and it opened up a world of new opportunities. After all, if Reid could manipulate bone outside of himself - what else could his skeletal powers do? CH 38: Miscalculations Marlene sent another glance to the truck''s backseat. Despite her planning, things had very quickly gone awry. Susan, the strongheaded woman, had stood in the middle of the path and forced the truck to stop, then wouldn''t let them through until they agreed to take her in with the first group to Sanctuary. Apparently, she''d been entirely out of sorts the entire march through the woods, and ''needed'' to see Reid with her own two eyes. No, she wouldn''t wait. No, she wouldn''t listen to reason about potential dangers. The conflict reached a point where Marlene felt herself losing the approval of those around her, so she caved and let Susan in the truck. There wasn''t much of a logical basis that defeated "I need to see my husband, I can heal him if he''s injured." Trying to convince Susan otherwise would''ve only made Marlene look heartless. So the truck, still overfull, had one new member that spent the entire ride staring directly ahead. Susan was rigid and tense. Marlene felt bad for her, honestly. She''d asked for this, but it was easy to tell Susan was worried and dreading what she was going to find when they did make it into the camp. Marlene nearly let out a sigh. Today was going to be complicated. # One of the men in the bed of the truck was gagging. Another let out a long, impressed whistle. Marlene noted which of her people had each reaction, even as she took in the view. Sanctuary''s front gate was impassable. A tangle of dead bodies littered the ground, some more intact than others. It was crude looking work, almost animalistic, and that was further influenced by the fact that the bodies were simply left in the dirt. Marlene''s nose twitched, but none had started to smell. She wanted to make sure that didn''t happen. The last thing they needed was for their home to start filling with the stench of cadavers. Marlene barked orders. A few men were set to work digging a mass grave and transporting the dead over to it. There was no need for the children in their camp to see this. Not yet, at least. She sent another trio, together, to search the tent site out to her left. The enemy camp was bound to have something worthwhile in it, and they needed to gather strength and intelligence as quickly as possible here. She gave an extra warning to keep an eye out for hiding survivors, just in case. There had been one attacker left alive, but Marlene couldn''t know where or what state that person was in. She asked Susan to wait outside while she did an initial sweep. The woman refused, and Marlene cursed inwardly. She''d have to rig things in her favor. # No one spoke about the carnage. A trail of violence left their campground home looking like a butcher''s shop, or some terrible horror film. It was simply gory. All the way to their beacon, limbs, crushed skulls and body parts, half-torn and mangled bodies littered the way. Marlene shuddered and felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. This wasn''t just defense and it wasn''t just a battle. This was a massacre. She found herself idly wondering why more didn''t survive - why they hadn''t tried to run. Marlene caught the worry in Susan''s eyes. Good, the woman needed to doubt. No one caused this much violence without being affected by it. She needed to see the possibility that her husband might have something wrong with him - something to worry about. They didn''t find Reid amidst the corpses, so the search continued. # She finally found Reid in the rec hall. They''d all fanned out to search the houses, and Marlene had taken a gamble. Susan went off to search their accommodations, assuming Reid went home. Marlene figured he would instead be where the food and water stores were kept. Marlene was right on the location... but she wasn''t quite sure what she was seeing. Reid was a weird, weird man. She''d seen him in many compromising and awkward positions. But she wasn''t expecting what was in front of her. The shock left her motionless for a few seconds. Reid looked haggard, and wore nothing but a pair of bloodstained boxers. He was singing, using an empty bottle of whiskey like a microphone. His audience was an equally-disheveled and sick looking man that was locked in a cage sitting in the middle of the floor. When Reid noticed Marlene, he let the bottle shatter on the floor and snatched a bone knife off the table. Marlene put a hand on the pistol on her back and half drew the gun. Reid was waving the knife in the air like a game show host before he finally started talking. His voice was hoarse - and overly excited. "Look! Marlene, look! It was broken, but I fixed it! I healed my dagger! Because it''s bone, and I''m bone, and I can heal bones!" Marlene was about to speak when the doors crashed open behind her. Susan dashed in and took stock of the situaion - including Marlene''s ready stance. Her eyes flicked to the gun, and to her husband, then back at Marlene herself. Reid was still going on about fixing his knife. Oh shit. Salvage this. Sow doubt. Turn it around. "Stay back, something''s wrong with Reid!" Susan gave Marlene a glare, then stomped over to her very confused-looking husband, and guided him by the arm to a chair. As soon as he was seated, her hands slid around his head and glowed green. She shouted while she worked. "Look at this - dammit Marlene what the fuck were you doing?" Marlene started to answer but was cut off. "Don''t say anything. You weren''t doing shit. I''m the healer - I''m the one with actual medical training, and my first reaction to someone that''s obviously suffering from sleep depravation isn''t to pull a fucking gun. What were you going to do, Marlene? Were you going to shoot my husband?"The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Marlene''s head spun. "You saw what it was like outside. Look, he''s even got someone in a cage. We needed to-" "Marlene, none of that means jack shit." Reid started snoring as she pulled her hands away. She squared herself at Marlene. This was new. Defiant. Bad. "Reid was acting loopy here because he was essentially hypomanic. His head, just now, was like he''d gone a full week without sleeping. People get stupid happy or they get mean when that happens. Reid was stupid happy, and it was a medical problem - not one to solve with a fucking gun." Marlene raised her hands and took a step towards Susan. She needed to de-escalate, show she cared. "Susan, I''m sorry. But I do need to talk to Reid about what happened here, or talk to his prisoner. The man''s in a cage, after all." Susan looked livid. "And?! Look around, Marlene! These people shot Louis! They would''ve killed the rest of us if we didn''t escape. So yeah, if the guy is in the cage there, that''s where he''s supposed to be. I trust my husband, and you should too. He just saved your damn settlement from being wiped out, and you''re going to stand there and question him? Pull a fucking gun? I''ve got half a mind to take my husband and my daughter right now and leave Sanctuary and you for good. You''re essentially family, Marlene - but maybe we need to rethink that. Family doesn''t pull guns out when someone is overtired." Susan shook her head. "You can leave now." "Susan, I-" "I said you can leave, but what I meant was I''m with a patient, who is also my husband, in my triage area, and I''m telling you to go away." Marlene steadied herself. This wasn''t good. Things were getting out of hand and she needed to do something. Compassion wasn''t working, so maybe she just needed to reestablish hierarchy with the woman. "I understand you''re upset, Susan. But try not to be so reactive to those around you. I''ll give you two some time together. Come and find me when you''re back to normal." Susan''s eyes narrowed and she put a hand a bit above her hip. Marlene''s attempt had backfired. "Normal? Normal?! I''ve had to mourn my husband multiple times. I have a daughter that''s learning how to scavenge instead of prepping for college. I spend every day wondering what person I''ll need to regrow. I have to sit here, in my space, and worry about my daughter and my husband, because I KNOW this world is changed and they need to get stronger to survive it. Now have you telling me, in my space - my domain - what I can and can''t do? In my medical wing. That I''m reactive? Respectfully, Marlene, fuck off." # There were plans to make, and Marlene found herself thankful that Reid and Susan were indisposed. Less thankful about how poorly her intention had gone with the two of them, but she''d figure out a way to salvage that later. She looked at the quest message again. It hadn''t changed, and was still telling her to wait. Fine, if there wasn''t an indication on what they''d face, she would just prepare general plans. Around the room, members of the core group chatted softly in their chairs. A map they''d found in the enemy camp was pinned to the wall - and a few of the students she trusted were hand-tracing copies onto other pieces of paper. Bertrand''s camp had ended up being a real treasure trove. The man was abominable, for certain, but he kept meticulous records. Marlene had information on each settlement they now owned, including the expected resources to be gained, the amount of people left, their levels, and expected durations of how long they would each last with no support. There were caches of mundane weapons and firearms, a good quantity of ammunition, sleeping cots and camping gear made for traveling, and hard provisions. Marlene was honestly impressed that they''d managed to lug everything through the woods - even if they had multiple people with incredibly strong backs. There was, of course, more violence and more bodies in the camp. They led back to the command tent, where the story of Reid¡¯s escape became clearer. They''d heavily drugged the man, and somehow, he''d still broken free. But she wasn''t questioning the morality of Reid''s choices any longer. All the killings were justified. Bertrand''s journal turned her stomach. And that wasn''t an easy feat. The man had been ritualistically killing members of his own settlements, out of a lust for power and a very severe psychosis. He''d picked out followers based on their willingness to partake and watch those killings, and only a few notes mentioned allowing less than enthusiastic murderers to join them. One happened to be the man in the cage. There was more to do there, later. A second healer would be a very valuable thing to have, so she wanted to keep the man alive. Bertrand''s last entry had been about timing and taking people off sanctuary''s wall. Marlene was exhausted when she finished the journal, but had to press on. There was too much to do. The mass grave was filled with the bodies, and the scraps. The other residents were being brought back in waves, and a few people had been sent to retrieve the other vehicles from the wood bridge. Mark repaired the hole in the wall, and the high level salamanders were processed so their claws could be made into weapons. A simple truth hung over everything. There were settlements out there that had suffered under the thumb of a terrible tyrant, and Sanctuary was now responsible for. They only knew about the places on paper, and needed more information that wasn''t written by a madman. She called everyone to order, and laid out what they knew - to an extent. When she mentioned protecting and helping the other settlements, the response was immediate and genuine. A few people volunteered to scout out the new locations, and started to plan on bringing some supplies and aid even before Marlene brought the idea up herself. It was good, she knew. Even without prompting, her people wanted to help and they wanted to protect. It was the kind of mentality they''d need to regrow a true society. Protecting those that needed it like they were family, and lifting each other up. Marlene''s mind spun. That was it, that was how she would keep Sara close and engender herself to the girls parents at the same time. Protection, family, and choice. Marlene would convince the girl to tell her parents about the contract, earning more of their trust and appreciation for doing so. Marlene would then reveal the title, and make it Reid and Susan¡¯s fault for worrying about what would happen if Sara wasn''t ready for the responsibility. She was 17 and their daughter, after all, they would naturally want her to take things slowly. Marlene''s support for giving Sara the title would make the girl appreciative, bringing her parents into the decision would make them both feel involved and respected, and her offer to temporarily run things would be seen as protective. It would buy time while getting everything she wanted out of the situation. # A day later, Marlene sat with Sara across from Susan and a well-rested and recovered Reid. The fact that Marlene had to hold the conversation while Susan was still angry with her was sub optimal, but Marlene couldn''t wait for much longer. If she did, she''d lose some credibility in the eyes of Sara and her parents. All the pieces of her plan were ready. She had ideas on how to handle every twist of the conversation she could imagine. It was time to make a deal. CH 39: Tactical Faceplant Reid did not want to be doing whatever the hell it was that they were doing right now. His head still ached and his body complained, even though Susan had healed him multiple times. Apparently, there were major consequences to fighting off an army, self-healing, self-empowerment, fighting off salamanders, followed by more power experimentation. Especially if you did all of those in sequence, without rest and without properly refueling yourself. The alcohol Reid drank did very little to get him drunk, but it was apparently an excellent way he''d further dehydrated his system. Susan mostly treated Reid like he was a patient, overly doting on him to make sure he was recovering and actually relaxing. Mostly. The ''thank-god-you''re-alive'' sex now held a top-three rank in Reid''s mind, maybe even top two. His headache lashed out again, and Reid searched for his drink. He sucked some water out of a plastic squeeze bottle and set his gaze on Marlene and his daughter. From what Susan had told him, Marlene was near ready to shoot Reid when she came upon his... celebration in the rec hall. In a massively surprising twist, telling his wife that he was now bulletproof had not, in fact, alleviated her concerns about the subject. She was similarly not-amused when Reid offered to prove it. Both she and Sara looked nervous. Reid blinked a few times. He hadn''t noticed Marlene get nervous before. He knew his daughter well enough to read her emotions, but Marlene had almost always kept her emotions tight to herself. He looked at the woman again. She was poised on the couch, attempting to look relaxed - but he could see a level of tension in the way she moved. It was... more mechanical than usual. Reid had been picking up on some things since he rested and recovered, but a quick walk over to get food and back didn''t exactly keep his attention long enough to really consider things. Marlene, in front of him, did. He still couldn''t put his finger on the why, but it felt like Sara was keeping a secret from Reid and Susan, and Marlene was keeping a secret from all three of them. Beside him, Susan squeezed his hand. Reid realized he was slurping the water, and he stopped himself and spoke. "So, Sara, I take it you have something you need to tell us, and Marlene - you look like you have something to get off your chest, too." Marlene''s eyes went a bit wide before they settled. Reid shifted his focus to his daughter. She was all but squirming in her seat. "Um... so, I told you my skill helps me with stuff, but it -ah. It also did things before. Back when I awakened at the beacon, I mean. It gave me... it showed me how to make a special contract. So, yeah. Mine''s different from everyone else''s. But I don''t think I broke it! A bunch of people went after me, and nothing happened to them like it happened to you, dad!" Reid held up a hand and stopped Sara from continuing. "Hey, hey, hey. There''s no need for that, sweet pea. There''s no way any of that was your fault, alright?" She nodded. "Good. So you did nothing wrong, and you didn''t cause any bad stuff to happen to me. Why don''t you tell us about the contract you signed?" Reid glanced at Marlene. She was nearly motionless, and hadn''t reacted to the news about the contract - so she had already heard this secret. The woman remained impassive as Sara shared the details of how she got her xp doubled and that she earned even more every few levels as a bonus. Reid interrupted her then. "So Marlene has kept up with giving you the bonus experience from the quests, then?" Sara nodded. A bit of her hair that wasn''t tied back in her ponytail fell over her face, and she tried blowing it to the side, then moved it with her hand when that didn''t work. "I''m level 14 now. I got 95,000 points while we were on the way home, which I think was from the... people quests. And then there was another big 20,000 point jump that I guess was from the salamanders?" She gave a look at Marlene, who nodded. "So yeah, I''ve been trying to keep everything equaled out, and so I''ve got 15 across the board now." Reid let out a whistle, and Susan had a hand over her mouth. She looked at all three of them for a long moment, then sighed. "It feels wrong, putting resources like that all to one person." Reid saw Sara wince a little, and Marlene smiled. "I disagree, Sue. There are monsters out there more powerful than me, and they''re only going to get stronger as time goes on. The points Sara''s getting are ones that I earned, and I say she keeps them. Even if they came from somewhere else, Sara needs to grow stronger just like the rest of us." He spared a glance at Marlene, then looked back at Sara. Her stats meant she was physically stronger than Reid had been when he first killed one of the high leveled salamanders. Not just that, but she was tougher than he was at that stage, and she was massively better off in every other department. Reid felt a bit of pride in that. Whether it was the result of a skill or his points, Sara was getting impressively strong. He wanted to make sure that continued. "Sweet pea, you''re going to need more power - even more than you have now. Things are awful and violent right now, but they don''t have to be. If we all just get strong enough, we can make sure everyone around us stays safe. We don''t need a hundred people at level six. We need one or two people at level ten. That''s the real goal here. Even if it feels like the right thing to give that experience away, you''d be hurting everyone else because of it. Maybe not now, but later." Reid put his water on the table and squeezed Susan''s hand. "I''m not making anything up here, either. Sara, I left power on the table instead of taking it. I let others work on the waves instead of handling things myself. I sat back instead of looking for more ways to grow. Those decisions seemed like selfless acts, right? Well, things don''t work out that way. Because I didn''t get stronger, Louis died." Sara was holding Reid''s gaze with a level of seriousness he hadn''t seen in her before. "So this isn''t some recommendation - it''s a mandate. You and I both have the ability to outpace the growth of almost everyone around us, if we try. So you need to try. That means taking power when its offered, learning where you can, and not making shortsighted choices in the name of selflessness. Get. Stronger. Don''t ever stop trying to grow. No matter what." Sara''s lips parted, then closed. She gave a slow nod, then stared at the table. After it was apparent Sara wasn''t going to say anything else, Reid turned to Marlene. The woman gave everyone an assessing glance, then started. "The second half of the contract, that Sara didn''t get a chance to explain, is a condition. She needs to become a kind of royalty in the next hundred years, or she''ll owe some hefty penalties back to whoever''s on the other side of the contract." Sara''s quiet nod confirmed the explanation. "Part of the reason we''re all here is, I think I''ve found a way to make that happen, but it could be dangerous." "Dangerous how?" Susan asked. Reid watched Marlene give Susan her full attention with the answer. "I think Sara is capable of a lot, and you both know I''m committed to keeping her safe and helping her grow. But there are unknowns here that we can''t possibly explore. There could be secret challenges she has to face, or some interplanetary politicking, or who-knows-what else. So, before I set things in motion I wanted to get the okay from both of you to do this."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Susan held up a hand. "You still haven''t said what ''this'' is. Exactly what are you planning on doing to Sara?" Marlene''s mouth twitched, just a little. "Reid''s... victory over Bertland gave us control over a number of their settlements. Because of the amount, we''ve been given the option to name a Lord Candidate. It''s uncertain what''s going to happen when we actually do it, but it seems like the best lead we have on making your daughter into a royal." "Do it." Reid''s voice was clear, and he''d raised his volume over the norm for the conversation they were having. He squeezed Susan''s hand twice, then nodded at her. She nodded back. "Alright, do it." Susan''s sounded a bit reluctant, but it was also clear. Marlene looked between the two of them like a deer in headlights. Reid smiled. Marlene had been trying to do something - and whatever it was, she''d not gotten the reaction she was obviously expecting. Reid could almost see her reset herself in real time. After a moment, she spoke again. "I was hoping you both would be on board. This is great - see, Sara? I told you this was the right idea." She looked at Reid and Susan. "Now, I expect there''s going to be a host of options and things that become available to Sara that I didn''t have access to, so we''ll want to spend some time here going through everything. And, for all our sakes, it would make sense to have me in charge of day to day things while we work through it all. Does that work for you two, or should we wait?" Reid shook his head, and Susan answered. "We''re here, like Reid said, we have no idea what''s going to happen if we wait, so let''s just do it." "Oh! Hang on!" Reid interrupted. He pulled the clip point radius off his back, then the improvised scabbard he was using. Reid stood, then held the entire ensemble out in his palms. "It''s dangerous to go alone! Take this!" The joke fell flat. Reid cleared his throat and continued. "We don''t know if naming you the Lord Candidate is going to do something weird or teleport you somewhere, so I want you to take this to protect yourself. I reworked it yesterday after I fixed my knife, so it''s just as strong as I am right now." Sara reverently took the sword in her hands, then slammed into Reid with a hug. She let out a muffled "thanks" into Reid''s shirt, then stepped back and rubbed her nose. Reid decided to lighten the mood a little. "You know, this means you''ll have a piece of me with you wherever you go." Sara put on a lopsided grin. "It also means if anything tries to hurt me, it''ll have to answer to-" she pulled the sword out and held it aloft, "My dad!" Susan groaned and put a hand to her forehead. "Of all the things she could get from you, Reid, it had to be your sense of humor." # Sara was in the center of the room, decked out with a backpack of supplies, a walkie talkie, copy of the map of the area, spare shoes, and a bit of basic body armor. After giving her the sword, it seemed wrong to not also prepare her for other issues, so they''d taken a bit of time to throw everything together. Now, the four of them waited. Reid could see Marlene grind her teeth. "Okay, Sara. I''m doing it now." Reid half expected a flash of light, or some heavenly trumpets. From his point of view, nothing had happened. Sara''s eyes shifted back and forth. "Did it work?" Reid asked. "Yes" Sara and Susan answered in unison. Sara followed up. "Oh, dad, right, you''re not part of Sanctuary because you didn''t awaken. Hang on... keep hanging on... Ah! Found it!" A system notification chimed as text appeared. Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall of the Calderwall Empire has enabled non-resident quest notifications. All sentient beings inside any Calderwall Empire Settlement will see quest notifications related to the Empire, the local settlement, or the Lord Candidate. Current Quest: Secret Event Quest Assignment Pending. Please Wait... "There''s - there''s so much here to go through." Sara turned excitedly to Reid. "Dad, it''s like a strategy game and a city-builder and an RPG got all mushed together! It''s so cool!" "We should start going through the options, toge-" Marlene was interrupted by Sara''s excited chatter and the notifications that popped into view for everyone. "Look! Our next quest is pending! And I can make laws and stuff! I can designate people to look after individual settlements, and I can name people!" NOTICE: Susan Calderwall has been named Arch-Healer by Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall NOTICE: Marlene Benson has been named provisional commandant and general for the Calderwall Empire. It was Reid''s turn to advise caution now. "Sweet pea, let''s understand a bit more before you start doing too much all at once." "It''s okay, Dad - my skill is helping." Sara''s mouth spread into a chesire grin. "Here, I''m sending you all contracts. Well, everyone but Dad. It won''t let me do one for you because you aren''t awakened yet. Mom, yours is super straightforward. It solidifies your title and lets you do system stuff on my behalf." Sara turned slowly to the older woman. "Marlene, yours isn''t." Reid watched Marlene go pale, and arched an eyebrow at his daughter. She made a few motions with her eyes, and a notification popped up in front of Reid. Notice: Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall has publicly shared a contract. You may not interact with the contract as you are not a listed party. Notice: This Contract has been summarized by Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall for easier shared reading. - Contract Duration: The longer of either 10,000 years or the lifespan of either party Parties: Sara Calderwall and Marlene Benson Upon agreement, Marlene Benson will become a loyal subordinate to Sara Calderwall. She will not in any way attempt to harm or impede Sara Calderwall, including non-physical forms of harm, and impediments that include steering or sabotaging relationships, plans, city infrastructure, trade, or national relations. If any attempts to circumvent the contract are made, Marlene Benson''s life will be forfeit immediately, to be enforced by the system. This contract will remain active even under conditions of temporary death, outside of system-controlled space, and applies to the entity currently known as Sara Calderwall - even if the form or condition of Sara Calderwall fundamentally changes. Further, Marlene will strive to complete every assigned task and responsibility to the best of her abilities. On successful performance, Sara Calderwall will offer to Marlene Benson improvements in working conditions, rank, or responsibilities as available and befitting her current status. Any attempts to void this contract will result in the immediate termination of Marlene Benson. Sara Calderwall retains the right to amend this contract as necessary for a period of up to 10,000 years, as agreed by Marlene Benson on initial signing. - Sara was still grinning from ear to ear. "Marlene, I''m young. That doesn''t mean I''m an idiot. I go to high school. I''m into tabletop RPGs. I know what fake looks like, and I''m pretty good at spotting bullshit - even when I''m working with a professional. And you know what? It turns out that having really high perception helps with that, too. I know you''ve been overreaching on our relationship with each other. I know you''ve been trying to separate me from my parents so you can have a bigger influence over me." Reid felt himself ball his fists. Sara continued. "But - I also know you''re not all negatives. You have a good mind for making hard choices, and you do know how to work people. You''re tactical. You have experience leading that I think I can learn from. Despite how you are, I know you actually care about what goes on here and what happens to the people, in your own way. I know you care about me in your own way, too. So that''s the offer. You can be a good influence, Marlene. Either right now, or in the future. Today, I need someone who knows how to lead troops and deal with logistics. If I''m going to be some kind of royal in a few years, I''ll need someone that can do intrigue-y things. So this is where we stand. You work for and with me, earning back my trust while I let you do what you do best - for me." Holy shit. Reid wasn''t sure if he''d ever been as impressed by his daughter as he was right now - or as proud. He''d assumed Marlene was doing the kinds of things everyone in power did - working to gain influence and make relationships, but he hadn''t fully picked up on the extent of what was going on. Sara had, and now she''d so thoroughly overwhelmed Marlene that the woman didn''t even argue before she accepted the contract. Sara held out a hand, and gave a warm smile. "Thank you, Marlene. I know it probably doesn''t feel like it right now, but you''re going to help me make something great." Marlene took a long breath, and shook Sara''s hand. Her voice carried a vulnerability he''d never heard in the woman. "I want to see you succeed. I''ve been working towards that, really. Now, it''s just a little different... and more official." In front of him, Reid''s seventeen year old daughter had outmaneuvered someone more than twice her age, within minutes of gaining the tools to do so. She''d done it so gracefully, the interaction ended with Marlene still on Sara''s side, still supporting her, with more rules to enforce that relationship. Reid knew this wasn''t just a handshake. It was the first step in what would hopefully be a long, long journey for his daughter. Reid''s imagination ran away from him. In times of trial, he''d taken to imagining his daughter grown up - as a graduate, or as a professional, or as a parent. But right now, he could see her as something more. She was a vision so bright, it was blinding. His eyes started to water. Sara looked... Regal. CH 40: Tools and Resistance Marlene had quietly excused herself for a few minutes at Sara''s request. As soon as the door closed, Reid grabbed Sara by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug, then grabbed Susan so the three of them were embracing each other. Reid could feel her breathing deeply. "Lord Sara. I''m so proud of you." He looked to his wife. "We both are. Some of that definitely felt like it came out of left field, but I''m not going to complain about it. You were really something there, kiddo." Susan nodded. "How are you doing, Sara? That seemed like a lot." Sara separated, then shook out her hands. "Whew! That was... argh! Okay. Sorry I didn''t tell you two that was going to happen. I got the feeling things wouldn''t have gone right if I did, and I was so, so nervous when everything happened all at once - but oh my gosh, it worked. It worked so well! I didn''t even know that was going to happen with the Lord Candidate thing, but I knew it was the right time to tell you about the contract, and then the Marlene stuff - don''t be mad. She really is trying to help, she''s just a little bit of a broken person, and I think I know how to make her be better, but it''s going to take a while. But - argh! I have all this pent up energy now! I thought I was going to have to do so much more stuff there when everything happened and now I just, don''t." Reid let his daughter ramble. "Oh! Mom, I didn''t say it outright, but you have a higher rank thing than Marlene and you can give her orders if you want. The title''s supposed to help you get better at healing even faster than before, and it makes it so you can teach people what you know - isn''t that cool? And Dad, we have to get you back to the beacon and try things out again. I have options to do stuff here for you, and it might help with figuring out how to cure you. Oh! And I was serious about the interface thing. It''s incredible. It''s already letting me assign people to go be envoys to other settlements, and I''ve got a list of residents and their general skills, and I can set rules and regulations and I can do a bulletin thing where messages would go to everyone at once! It''ll even let me do it for specific residents, or geographically to people in the settlements! Oh! That''s right, I should do one for us, for this. Everyone should''ve seen the notification but.... hm. Yeah. I think like... this?" NOTICE sent by [Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall] Hi Everyone. You should''ve seen a notification for this already, but I''ve been made the leader of Sanctuary, and a few other towns that Sanctuary now owns. This was and is a planned change that Marlene and I have been working towards. The simple explanation is that becoming Lord Candidate was always a requirement for my path. In the same way I''ve led us to supplies and found things each of you needed, I''ll be finding the right way forward for all of us in a much broader sense. My skill makes me uniquely qualified for this, especially in a world so full of unknowns. I''m honored to be the one that will lead us all through it. Now, nothing is really changing right away. Your guard duty rotations, work schedules, and ration distributions are all staying the same. My mother will still be in charge of healing, and Marlene will be responsible for our defenders and armed forces. I''ll be setting up times for everyone to come and talk to me if you have questions, and if there are any questions that seem like everyone would benefit from hearing the answer, I''ll be sending out another notice like this one. Thank you all! Sara let out a long breath and flopped down into a chair, then continued rambling. Reid sat down next to her. "So, like, not everything in there was part of my skill, you know? What I was saying to both of you - Dad, you telling me about power and stuff. And the sword - I really like the sword. But... the power stuff. I didn''t want to talk about it then, because I was worried it would throw off everything else and then I might not have been able to stick Marlene with the contract like I did. Or she might''ve wiggled her way out of it. But, yeah. Dad, I''m not sure if I can actually do what you said, but I want you to know that I''m going to try. You and my skill both seem to be pushing me to take whatever I can get, and maybe that is a good thing. But what if it doesn''t work?" "If I was wrong - about anything in there with Marlene, she might''ve done things differently. If she wasn''t as... nice? No, that''s not the right word. If she wasn''t as invested in seeing me grow as she is, Marlene could''ve taken the lord title for herself, and then she would be the one putting out contracts and making rules. Yeah, I did it, but so much of it was my skill, and I don''t want to over-rely on things like that. Like, in a balanced card game, there''s always a counter to anything that''s really powerful, or there''s some way around an effect. If I just only ever listen to my skill on stuff, I might miss something important, or I might lose something, or I might not get the right outcomes that I actually want. Like - there''s things that it''s led me to that just don''t make sense. Like this one weird spot it kept telling me to go to, or leading me to your boots, which I knew you didn''t like but you wore them anyway, and I just want to not ever only do one thing." "I don''t want to only rely on my skill, so I''ve been doing things myself. Like, during all of that conversation and with the contract I sent Marlene. I don''t want to only rely on bonus xp, so I''ve been leaning into James''s fighting training, and that way I can fight stuff myself and level up that way. I didn''t want to blindly follow the skill''s navigation, so I''ve been studying how to recognize different plants and rivers and stuff - and navigating by the position of the sun and the stars, which is really neat. I don''t... I don''t ever want to just have one thing. I don''t want to become my skill. But, yeah. I guess what I meant to say was, just, thank you for the talk, dad. And the sword. And thank you, mom." Susan hugged Sara from behind, and Reid found himself deep in thought. Sara was obviously struggling quite a bit more than he''d anticipated, with everything. He could still envision her, regal and powerful and bright - but the moment was a good reminder that she was still brand new to all of this. Just like everyone else. She''d just been able to adjust and take advantage of things better than most, even if she didn''t always know how. Reid decided, after a minute, to share. He told Sara about the fight with the fridge, and he told everything true. How he''d been close to losing, how he was outmatched in nearly every way, and how he was certain he was going to die. Then, how the broken sole of the boot had saved his life. How it had seemed so improbably lucky at the time, and that he was now certain Sara''s skill had something to do with his survival.Stolen novel; please report. "So, Sara - don''t always blindly trust or only rely on your skill, but you can always listen to it. You saved me. So maybe the things that don''t seem like they have meaning now will benefit you sometime down the road. Trust yourself. You''re already doing good by saying you don''t want to over-rely on stuff. Bertrand - he did that. I didn''t know it at the time, but he tried to use a skill on me that control''s someone''s body. I resisted it, and when it didn''t work, and he had nothing else to fall back on. So you''re right. Don''t rely on just one thing - build yourself up. And to do that, you''re going to need power and the right tools and the right people. And I think you''re well on your way to that." Reid glanced at the clip point radius for a moment. The sword was a tool, but what if... Sara''s eyebrows shot up. "You can resist skills?" Reid nodded. "I have a thing now in my status called Resistances, and one of the things there is just ''active skills''. Maybe we can get something similar for the two of you - I had to have two of them before it worked for me. But- ah, don''t share any of that outside this room. And, it might not work for everybody like this - I''m not really sure what''s possible for everyone and what isn''t." Marlene burst through the door. "Got your message. I''m here - what''s the emergency?" Her voice was tense, but faded when she saw everyone sitting quietly. "Good timing!" Sara hopped up from her chair, and guided Marlene to sit down. "The emergency is research. I need your help with a test. You said you identified my dad when he was in the woods and you saw literally everything in his status, right?" Marlene nodded. "Great! I just want you to do that again, and tell me what you see. Or! Hang on... -" NOTICE: Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall has enabled identify result sharing for the local area. "Done, and Dad - Marlene''s contract has an information clause, so don''t worry about oversharing. Okay, now do it." Marlene gave another nod, then turned towards Reid and slightly narrowed her eyes. Reid felt the pinprick on his ethereal self, and Marlene jumped in the chair. "Ow! Damn, what was that?" Identify - ERROR Reid rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Sara. "I saw that happen a few times with Bertrand''s people. It''s like - the bigger attempt the skill has to do something to me, the bigger the backlash they feel. This one guy tried to do something to me and ended up screaming on the ground." Marlene looked pissed. "So you just decided to see if you could melt my brain? Come on -" Sara waved her hands to get everyone''s attention. "Hey! We learned something, okay? And that''s what I''m trying to do here. And what we just saw was totally different from normal, right? So, it might be that whatever resistance you got, dad, made it so identify doesn''t work! Or it could be that you''re a higher level now. Oh! Marlene, use identify on me." Limited Identify Successful! NOTICE: This target exceeds your level. Raise your level or gain hierarchy over this being to glean more information.
Race: Human Grade: G Level: ?
"Huh. Okay. Now do mom." Identify Successful!
Name: Susan Calderwall Race: Human Grade: G Level: 5 Health: ?? / 40
"Huh. I wonder... Okay. Everybody hang tight, I''m having Walt bring us one of the people that never actually awakened." # A few minutes later, Walt escorted a confused-looking old woman into the room. She was introduced, sat down, and identified. Identify Successful!
STATUS Name: Beatrice Patricia Anderson Race: Human Grade: G Level: 1 Health: 9/10 STATS: Constitution: 1 Dexterity: 1 Intelligence: 1 Perception: 1 Power: 1 SKILLS: Cooking [Basic]
"Thank you, Beatrice! Walt, you can see her out now." "I''m not sure what I did. dearie, but it was my pleasure. You call on me if you need help again, you hear me? I still owe you for those diet dr. peppers!" The woman left the room with a still-confused smile, and Sara clapped. "Okay! So, not a huge sample size, but I''m betting the awakening contract is protecting some information, and then being a higher level protects more, and resisting it stops everything! That''s why Marlene can see so much information in an unawakened person! Marlene, thanks for your help here. I might have you work with me on this again, but I''m mostly going to re-read our system contracts to see if they mention anything interesting. I think we should really figure out if there''s anything else the contracts are automatically doing for us that we don''t already know about. Dad, like you said - we shouldn''t take things for granted - so I want to know why things work the way they do - and if we can make them work better for us." Marlene nodded. "Happy to help. While I''m here, Sara - I already started talking to some of the defenders about the changes in leadership. They''re going to want you to make an appearance and talk to them sooner rather than later. And, they''re wondering if they can start doing weapons distribution." Sara looked thoughtful for a moment. "I''ll talk with everyone tomorrow - today''s just going to be me getting more information on a bunch of stuff... like identify. For the weapons, sure - everyone should get whatever fits them best, I guess? I''ll leave the details of that up to you - oh, and I''ll make sure James has a rank in the hierarchy too." Reid barely heard Sara''s reply. The mention of weapons put his focus back onto the sword. Reid had done some improvements to the clip point radius to bring it up to his current capabilities at his current level - but the weapon was ostensibly still one designed for him to use. It was made for his hands, his swing. Reid wasn''t a pro with bladed weapons by any means, but it felt like he''d given his daughter a golf club that was sized all wrong. Sure, it might still hit something, but using it would be a pain and a hinderance. Reid''s head was still sore. He didn''t feel the greatest. But the mis-sized sword gnawed at the corner of his mind. There was more he could do, or try, to make the weapon specifically Sara''s. It could help keep her alive, or help her become more powerful. And Reid had already promised himself to not leave things undone. He pursed his lips and held out a hand. "Sara - give me the sword." CH 41: Osteal Journeyman Reid eyed the scabbard with the clip point radius. Sara and Susan were both giving Reid questioning looks. "I don''t mean I want it back. Here, just - take out the sword, and hold it like you''re in a fight." Her eyebrow arched, but Sara grabbed the scabbard and drew the blade. Reid looked at her for a few moments. He wasn''t an expert, by any means - but his hunch was right. In Sara''s hands, the sword looked... wrong. The handle was too large, and the blade itself seemed clumsy - like it was too big and off balance. It was also just... a weapon. Reid walked over and touched the side of the sword. He told Sara to stay still, and closed his eyes. His presence wrapped around the weapon - and bits of Reid probed around Sara''s grip. He could feel her hand like it was made of its own impenetrable energy. He tried to interact with it, surround it, give it a handshake - but nothing happened there. And, since it wasn''t Reid''s actual goal, he put the idea of energy interactions to the side. Instead, he focused on the sword, starting with the handle. It was far too big to fit well in Sara''s grip - both too long and too wide around. Reid focused on compressing things down, and the bone slowly shrank as it molded to his daughter''s hand. Reid ignored Sara''s surprised gasp and continued. The grip itself had never been fancy, or - honestly - very practical. Reid started at the bottom of the grip, and grew out a round pommel. That didn''t feel quite right, so Reid started experimenting. He morphed the thing into a diamond shape - but it was still too bland. Reid kept adding detail and edges until he had an icosahedron with concave faces. It looked quite a bit like a d-20 with the flats pushed in. Reid moved to the grip itself. It was the right size, but... too smooth? Yes - that was it. Reid had never wrapped the handle in any sort of leather or cord, and he wanted Sara to be able to leave it bare as well. He morphed the grip to include a raised pattern, and matched a geometric design to the pommel as best he could. He revised the pattern more than once before moving on again. Any good sword needed a cross guard. Reid initially thought of the kind of ornate work you''d see on a rapier - but that didn''t seem right for this weapon. Instead, he grew six bits of bone out between the handle and the blade. The two at the top and bottom of the blade were thicker and longer than the others, and curved towards the point of the weapon. They both ended in their own geometric shapes. The other four bits grew out, two to a side, and connected into each other to make small half-rings that would stop anything that slid down the side of the blade - and didn''t get caught by the two main cross guard pieces. It only took Reid a moment of contemplation to modify the half-circles into the same flats-and-edges look that he was using everywhere else in the weapon. Reid moved onto the blade itself. It was good - and sharp - and it had gotten him through a number of tough enemies. But he didn''t just want the thing to be strong - he wanted it to be perfect. Reid pushed, grew, and slimmed the sword along its length. The end curved just a bit more. Reid added a straight groove near the flat side of the blade to reinforce it, and reduce the weight. The internal structure of the bone itself was changed, and rechanged, and reworked again. Each time, things grew back just a bit differently - and just a bit better. Reid could tell as he worked that the changes he made would prove to ensure the sword stood up for force from almost any direction. But even that didn''t seem like enough. Reid could repair the weapon for Sara, sure - but what if it chipped in the middle of a fight? What if she had to fight something stronger than the weapon, and it broke? Or what if she outgrew it herself? A weapon was a tool, but that wasn''t everything a weapon could be, right? What if Sara didn''t have to wait for Reid to repair the blade when it was damaged - and what if she never needed to consider throwing it away? Reid felt the possibility. A sword that could grow with his daughter. Something that could heal, and strengthen, and improve alongside its wielder. It was possible. It had to be. Reid pushed himself back into the internals, and probed. Everything inside was strong, dense, and rigid. That was good, right? But it was... not how bones usually grew. Bones had blood, and marrow, and they were living things. Not knowing if what he attempted was even possible, Reid worked to make the inside of the weapon feel more like a living thing. He started with pathways. Any living thing needed ways to carry resources around and heal itself. For bones, that took the form of blood vessels that wound their way through. Reid pushed and morphed the structure he''d just spent so long perfecting to accommodate the incredibly intricate channels, and stopped himself partway through when he realized he wanted them to reach every part of the weapon. He hadn''t properly planned out their coverage the first time. His mind had started to feel the strain of the work. This was so much more than healing his dagger had been - and so much more work than it had been to just strengthen the weapon. He pushed through the pain and continued on. Blood was produced in marrow, so he focused on that next. Reid made the weapon have caches of marrow at different points all throughout the entirety of its length, even down to the grip. Then, he pushed energy in to grow the marrow a bit more and to kickstart its production process. Blood cells formed and rushed out into the pathways - then pressure built as the blood overfilled the narrow tunnels and strained the pathways. If he let this continue, the building pressure was going to break every tunnel in the blade. Even after Reid pulled his energy from the marrow, new blood was being created. In a panic, Reid undid much of his work by forming wells that the excess blood could collect in. The pressure on the sword lessened, and Reid took a step back to observe. First, he needed to drain the excess material. Or - did he? Reid spent a bit of time following the intended flow of fluids in his own body, and saw blood being broken down in multiple places. The waste seemed to be carried away in multiple ways, and Reid''s intuition told him he could do something similar. He pushed himself back into the sword and started to work. First, he experimented. Reid put different, tiny mechanisms in place to try and break down the wells of blood he''d created, and failed over a dozen times before one started to function. He connected a single, tiny pore from the sword''s groove to the broken down material, and watched happily as a bit of fluid was carried through and out of the weapon. He worked to replicate his success, and soon had all the wells drained through pores in the sword. He pointedly ignored the shouts he could vaguely hear coming from Sara and Susan. There wasn''t time to stop and explain things. He could feel that failing to fix things fast enough might actually damage the sword - and he didn''t want to have to do this twice.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The level of intense, detailed work he was doing had taken a toll on his mind, and his headache was growing far worse - far more quickly than Reid would''ve liked. He pulled himself down into the detail work anyway, and re-traced the entire circuitry of the weapon to have marrow, out-channels, returns, and waste systems all connected in balance with one another. It was agonizingly slow. But it seemed to work. Reid pushed his energy into the marrow areas, and watched the entire process kick off beautifully. Energy and blood were carried throughout the weapon, and then out into the groove as waste. All it needed was outside energy, and Reid felt the weapon would be able to heal, and - potentially - would grow. Reid frowned. He knew how to manipulate his own energy, and could impact the weapon because it was a part of him, but that wouldn''t work for Sara. He returned to the grip, and again explored Sara''s hand. The energy he felt there was mostly rigid to his touch. He couldn''t pass his own energies through Sara''s, and he couldn''t let her energy interact with his own in any meaningful way. But that wasn''t everything that was happening. Sara''s energy wasn''t completely rigid - no, it was seeping into and filling all the reliefs inside the design of the grip, like... liquid. Excitement welled in Reid. If energy moved and stuck like water... then he could control the flow. An idea solidified in Reid''s mind. He hollowed out dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of tiny structures out just beneath the surface of the sword''s grip. Each was a miniature spiral vortex funnel that led to its own micro-cache of bone marrow. Reid mentally prepared himself. This design was entirely different from the system he''d already built twice, and doing it a third time was bound to cause problems. He slowly, methodically reworked every pathway in the sword so that they started at the grip''s marrow instead of the caches he''d spread throughout the weapon. By the time he was done, Reid felt like his head was going to explode. But he wasn''t actually done with the weapon. Not yet. The blade was almost alive, but he could sense something else was missing. And he felt like everything needed to be perfect before he opened up the funnels. The realization hit him in a flash. It was a simple answer - the blade was missing a home, a sheath. Reid needed to make it a proper scabbard. Reid was relieved to find the scabbard work to be far less intensive than the actual bladework had been. Spiderweb-thick protrusions grew out at different points of the weapon, then started growing out towards each other. They connected, and branched, and surrounded the blade. Reid filled in the gaps and grew intricate designs into every inch of the new surface, until it was done. A bone scabbard, light and intricate, that was matched to the weapon itself. It was the missing extra piece, and Reid felt the weapon was ready for the final step. He put himself back into the sword''s grip, and methodically worked to try and touch every bit of bone covering each of the funnels. Something told him that he needed to open every new pore to each funnel - all at once. If he didn''t, Reid felt like the sword would either break, or it would fail to be as strong as it needed to be for Sara to wield it. So he pushed himself to feel and control the area over each funnel, at the same time. The work strained Reid''s abilities, and he felt his head throb with the effort. But pain was pain. If Reid could endure it for his own strength, he could damn well do it to give his daughter a good weapon. The pain went from a throbbing feeling, to a stabbing one. It grew worse, until Reid started to lose focus. The pain fought against his concentration and control. He grunted and swore as one of the funnels slipped away from him, then another. Things started to cascade as the headache overpowered his concentration and - The familiar feeling of Susan''s healing dulled the pain and sent a warmth through Reid''s mind that soothed him. One of the lost funnels came back under his control - then another. Reid worked as quickly as he could to regain control over all of them. He pulled himself out of the rest of the weapon as much as he could, and wrapped all of his attention and energy specifically around the task. His entire mind was solely focused on the unsealing of the funnels - or, rather, the opening of the channels. The headache wasn''t completely gone, and it grew back as Reid actively put himself over the top of each and every funnel. It was agonizingly slow work. He realized that he might never have been able to do it if Susan wasn''t there to heal him while he strained himself. There was just too much to keep track of all at once, and even his level of control didn''t allow him to be so split and detailed at the same time. His mind throbbed as he brought the final bits into focus. He had everything now, he knew. And it was the moment of truth. With a roar of effort, Reid pulled open each channel at the same time. A massive amount of energy welled up deep within Reid and shot into the newly exposed vortices. Reid saw his energy flow into the weapon and spread out beyond the channels and the marrow, into the very bone itself. Then, he saw Sara''s energy crawling down, following the shallow vortices until it finally touched the marrow. A flash of light and blast of force pushed him out of the blade, and he landed on the floor. The sword - Sara''s sword - glowed with soft orange-yellow light. A notification chimed into view. Congratulations! Unique Growth Weapon, [Queen''s Edge] Created! NOTICE: This weapon may be renamed by its crafter or bonded owner. Crafters may reject an owner''s weapon name choices. NOTICE: This weapon possesses multiple traits. NOTICE: Queen''s Edge has successfully bonded to [Sara Calderwall]! Congratulations! Bonus Experience awarded for producing a unique growth weapon. Bonus experience awarded for creating a weapon above your grade. Congratulations! Osteal Smithing has upgraded to Osteal Smithing Journeyman. "DAD THIS IS SO AMAZING!" Sara held the scabbard in one hand and the sword in the other. A line of dried blood ran from the sword''s groove down to the cross guard. Sara was practically dancing in place. "Look, dad, look at it!". Sara''s excitement was infectious. He hadn''t seen her like this in... years. It reminded him of Christmas mornings, where his tiny daughter had viciously torn open wrapping paper on her few meager gifts they could afford, then bounced around the room in overwhelming delight at what she''d received. Reid took a more concentrated look at the weapon. This was not a meager gift - not by a longshot. Reid read through the new text made available by his Osteal Smithing upgrade. Queen''s Edge [Legendary] Rank: F Traits: Self Repair, Growth, Bonded "I can feel it drawing on my energy - it''s like a skill, but... more like the connection is going both ways. This is incredible. Seriously, dad. Thank you. Thank you so much!" Reid felt exhausted. He noticed he and Susan were both drenched in sweat, and a number of water bottles and granola bar wrappers were littered across the table. "You''re welcome. And... ah, I haven''t seen that rarity before, or the other stuff. But, umm, how long did all that just take?" Susan let out a long breath. "Almost 20 hours. And I had to heal you nonstop for the last six. Let''s not do that again for a while." Reid uncapped a water and chugged the liquid down, then tore into one of the untouched granola bars. Sara was still staring wide-eyed at the clip point - no, at Queen''s Edge. Reid couldn''t help but feel pride at what he''d just done. The sword was a rarity that he''d never seen, and he had no idea how he''d made something a grade higher than himself. He''d gotten everything he wanted into the weapon, and that meant it would be able to serve Sara for what was hopefully going to be a long, long time. His mind started to make visions of his daughter again. She was regal, and brilliant, and wore her trademark sword and scabbard as she sat on a throne, and spoke to massive crowds, and fought- The real Sara - the one right in front of him - cut Reid''s dreaming short. Sara Calderwall has requested to rename [Queen''s Edge] to [Anduril] You have rejected this request. Sara beamed with a mischievous smile. Sara Calderwall has requested to rename [Queen''s Edge] to [Master Sword] You have rejected this request. Reid shook his head. Sara Calderwall has requested to rename [Queen''s Edge] to [My Dad] Reid gave his daughter an admonishing look. "Absolutely not" CH 42: Mundane Inspirations Despite his best attempts to dissuade her, Sara was still trying to rename the sword a day later. She was adamant that she wasn''t a queen, and every few hours, she''d send in another request for him to deny. Reid started to suspect that she was using the naming requests as a way to check in on him, rather than actually trying to rename the sword. Sara Calderwall has requested to rename [Queen''s Edge] to [Ivory Falchion] You have rejected this request. Reid yawned cracked his neck. A knee-high pile of bone swords was stacked in front of him. It was still only his first day of smithing skill practice. Six large tote bins around the room were filled with arrowheads, knives, swords, and axe heads. Some larger weapons were leaned up in the corners, or laying on the floor. The process of crafting had gotten slightly easier and faster with each new creation, and that allowed Reid to go well beyond what he''d expected to do. Reid wasn''t making any more growth weapons or high-leveled things. Susan had refused to heal or help him if he tried repeating his work with Sara''s sword too quickly, and as much as he wanted to try and make another incredible bone weapon - she was right. Reid felt an intrinsic knowledge that he wouldn''t be able to replicate the feat anytime soon, and he had a distinct feeling that he would end up suffering a serious backlash if he tried. But none of that meant he had to stay idle. His work today was all skill practice. Reid wanted to get more familiar with Osteal Smithing, and really test the edges of its possibility and see what changed after the Journeyman upgrade. The fact that he was arming Sanctuary''s residents with strong, durable bone weapons was more of a happy byproduct of the practice than the real intent. When he fought Bertrand''s army, one of the fighters had been able to injure Reid pretty severely by using the clip point radius. So, it stood to reason that anyone strong enough to lift and wield one of Reid''s weapons would be able to benefit from the strength and sharpness. They might be able to take on stronger monsters, or grow in level a bit faster themselves. Reid rolled to his feet. He wasn''t going to go out of his way to let other people take beast kills and experience that could''ve been his - but making them able to fight back against the increasingly difficult challenges they faced was something worth doing. Sara was in charge now, and Sanctuary''s people were her people. Reid wanted them to be able to stand a chance against stronger monsters, if for no other reason than to allow Sara to grow without worrying about their health and power. He walked over to one of the bins, and scooped up a handful of arrowheads. His smithing skill brought up information on the weapons. Metacarpal Bodkin Point [Common] Metacarpal Broadhead Tip [Uncommon] Proximal Phalanx Serrated Drillpoint Tip [Basic] The broadhead tips were standard-looking arrowheads, and Reid had made a ton of those. The serrated drillpoints looked... well they looked like drill bits made to torture something. Reid was most excited about the Bodkin Points. Those were absolutely solid arrowheads, made with four long and skinny sides that all met in a single point. It looked a bit like a tiny obelisk, and it had a single function. Bodkin points were armor-piercing arrows. In medieval times, they were made to go through mail armor, and supposedly also worked on puncturing through plate armor if they were fired at close range - or with enough force. Reid was hoping they could serve a similar purpose now. If Reid was right - and Mark''s wooden shafts for the arrows worked out - the people of Sanctuary might finally have ranged weapons that were effective at punching through salamander skulls. Even if they only worked on lower leveled versions of the beast, it would massively improve their ability to repel a wave. Reid bit his lip and looked at the "Please wait" quest message. It still hadn''t changed, and there was no telling when something would actually happen. He tried not to actively worry about what the next quest would be. Tomorrow, archers would be testing the arrowheads out on a series of harvested salamander skulls from previous waves. There would be other tests of the knives and swords and axes, but Reid shrugged those off. He already knew his bladed weapons could make it through the skulls with enough force. The only real unknown was the arrowheads. It wasn''t Reid''s intention to be a true ''smith'' for the entire camp. Even with all the arrowheads, knives, axe heads, and weapons scattered on the floor, there weren''t enough to outfit everyone. And Reid certainly hadn''t taken any custom orders. There were a variety of sizes and weights that Reid had gone through as he tested things out, but that wasn''t for any real attempt to make something useful for a particular person. The new bone weapons would be like the balls at a bowling alley - they were ''regular sizes'' instead of something made for people''s specific hands. Sanctuary''s fighters wouldn''t exactly be hurting for options, though. There were swords, knives, axe heads and a few full-bone axes, spears, a halberd, one war scythe that seemed pretty useful, hammers, and even a spiked mace. The hammers and the mace were the most interesting weapons to craft, because they felt fundamentally different from everything else. The entire structure of the weapons had to be designed around the faces taking immense pressure and strain. The first hammer Reid tried had cracked after only a few test swings against the floor. For repeated, intense forces to land squarely on the weapons, Reid had to completely redesign the internals differently than he had with everything else. The faces needed to be rock solid, and the internal structure had to be reinforced enough to handle the blows. Reid had felt something there, like another bit of possibility he hadn''t fully uncovered. There were so many things Reid hadn''t uncovered, he knew. He''d made a number of weapons now with the calcification skill, and he''d done something that was honestly impressive in making Sara''s growth sword. But, he hadn''t ticked off one glaring item that was listed directly under his skill''s description. He brought it up again. Calcification [Uncommon] Scales with Level. Increases bone durability. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Highly advanced practitioners can create bone armaments and armor. Bone armor. An image of a bone-covered barbarian popped into Reid''s head, but he brushed it aside. His bone weapons were incredibly durable, and there was no reason to think he couldn''t make something similarly useful for armor as well - while keeping everything within his body. Reid wanted to avoid the barbarian-image while ensuring he still had the necessary protection that he knew he would need against the ever-stronger foes they had to face. Reid really, really liked the idea of subdermal armor. It was innate protection that couldn''t be removed, and it would save him even if he was caught unexpectedly in a fight. He''d never have to put that armor on or worry about where he left it. So Reid attempted to make his dream a reality. His first failure was the most depressing - but Reid kept trying. He pushed through a headache and kept going. He stopped counting failures after he hit fifty attempts. But no matter what Reid did or tried, it just wouldn''t work. Those failures were the real reason he had a pile of extra weapons sitting on the floor. Reid had decided to push himself back into weapon crafting to see if there was some secret or familiarity he could find in one task that would make the other easier. In a way, the pile on the floor was a physical representation of Reid''s failure to get subdermal armor to work. The issue didn''t seem to be familiarity. All the weapons he''d created were slightly different, and each worked fine when he crafted them. They formed, popped out of Reid, and then they were good to go. The skin stitched itself back together afterwards, without really taking any extra energy from Reid. It didn''t even need his active input to happen. When he formed bone armor under the skin, though, things wouldn''t stay solid. They did form - he''d grown bone plates either partially or entirely at different points during his testing. The issue was that as soon as Reid''s focus left the boney plates, they would erode. No matter how fast or slowly the process - the result was always the same. Bone would seemingly deteriorate and the space would get reclaimed by everything else that had been there before. Even if he moved muscles and blood vessels and tissues out of the way first, the bones disappeared and the soft internals would ''take back'' the area. It was as though his muscles and tissue and skin were actively fighting against what he was trying to do - as if the subdermal plates he made were encroaching on space that didn''t belong to them.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The inconsistency gnawed at him. He could grow weapons without much strain. He''d gotten good enough to pop arrowheads out of his knuckles five at a time. He could make things larger than his bones themselves, and he could manipulate it all with precision. Growing more bones inside of him should''ve been straightforward, if not downright easy for him to do. Reid''s fingers pressed into his palm as he concentrated. He hadn''t been able to cut his fingernails for about two weeks, and they started to smart on his skin. Reid opened his hand, and watched the indentations slowly fade as his skin changed color. All that were left afterwards was his regular skin, and palm lines that never really changed. He pressed his fingernails into his palm again, and watched the indentations disappear. Reid frowned, then did it twice more. It couldn''t be that simple. He formed an arrowhead out of his pointer finger, and popped it free. The skin separated by the arrowhead went right back to the way it had been before the bone weapon was formed. He rubbed his fingers together. The skin and the finger didn''t feel any different than they had before the arrowhead was made. Reid oriented the arrowhead in his left hand, then used it to make a cut on the same finger he''d used to create the arrowhead. The arrowhead hadn''t changed in size or shape from when it had come out of that finger. It was still, without question, part of him. Except it damaged his skin instead of moving through it. He was on the right track. He could feel it. Reid rubbed the bloody finger against his thumb. Bits of red smeared themselves into the grooves of his fingerprint, and got up under his thumbnail. He could feel the sting of the open skin as it rubbed against itself and let oxygen into his finger. What if...? Reid focused on his finger bones again, and pushed a new arrowhead straight up and through the cut on his finger. There wasn''t any pain, and the skin morphed around the arrowhead to let it pass. Reid snapped the arrowhead off, and stared. On his finger, the skin that had to morph around the arrowhead was back to the way it had been before he formed the thing. It was still wounded where he''d made the small cut. Or, rather, it was exactly as it had been prior to making the arrowhead. Reid wanted to scream and cheer at the same time. His skill wasn''t just letting the bone grow out, it was putting everything back together exactly how it had been. When he was healthy, that meant the skin and everything else knitted itself back together perfectly like nothing had ever happened. And when he was cut or injured, the injuries were preserved through the formation. Just like the divots from his fingernails, Reid''s body was just going back to normal. And if his body was trying to go back to normal after each bone creation, then everything started to make much more sense. Reid tried recreating his test. He cut a small wound in his arm, and then grew a hammer through it. Sure enough, the cut was there, exactly the same, once the weapon was free. The size and shape of the bone weapon didn''t seem to matter, then. It always reverted. Reid went back in for another test. He grew a knife out of his arm, and waited. Even back when he''d first made the clip point radius, he hadn''t let the weapon stay on himself for too long. As Reid let the seconds tick by, he watched intently. After almost half a minute, Reid saw the bone connecting the knife to his arm start to deteriorate under his skin. It essentially dissolved, and the skin closed as the knife popped out and onto the floor. If Reid was right, the next test would be successful. Reid focused back on his arm, and willed a piece of bone to grow up and out. It circled him and grew into a thin, wristwatch-like band. Reid waited, and let the internal connection to his arm bone dissolve. The bone-band slumped a bit as gravity took it, and it rested against Reid''s skin. Bone Bangle Created! Holy shit. That was it. The problem was his body. Reid could improve his body and strengthen himself, but he couldn''t completely change the shape of his skeleton. He also couldn''t make any permanent internal growths. His body would treat them like foreign objects, and they would be removed. It didn''t stop him from getting damaged. It didn''t let him heal more quickly. It was more like a quirk of the skill itself - and one Reid had no idea how to approach, or even if he wanted it changed. His stomach growled. Reid leaned over to the bag of supplies he''d brought into the room. He chugged down a water and ate through a protein bar. It was one of the ones that tasted like soap, but he finished it anyway. Abusing his body without refueling it had been a major issue that slowed down his ability to craft, self-heal, and self-empower. Taking care of his body and stopping to refuel had major benefits, like letting him do more overall experimentation - and preventing further fights with his wife about overexerting himself. He turned over ideas while he ate. The knowledge he''d just gained was great information, but it meant he had no clear path to subdermal armor that he could take anytime soon. Instead, he was going to need to find alternative paths to make himself harder to kill. The most obvious one was also the one he had most wanted to avoid. External bone armor. Reid took a long breath and spun the band around his wrist. As long as the armor existed outside of his body, there was nothing that would have to fight for space and control. Reid concentrated hard, and created a full piece of solid armor that came out of his lower leg and wrapped itself around. Reid tapped on the thing with a knuckle. It felt absolutely solid. But something was still... wrong. Tibia Greave [Basic] Created! Reid stared at the rarity of the armor. The journeyman moniker on his osteal smith skill let him see all of his created weapon''s rarities. He''d already used it to figure out ways that he''d done things wrong during weapon crafting by seeing what rarity things were given. But, even then - nearly everything he''d made for weapons were Common or Uncommon, especially towards the end of the process. So, crafting something that was only Basic felt like going backwards. It didn''t make sense - he''d used the same design as everything else, so why? Reid''s tapping on his greave got more forceful. The bone covering smacked against his lower leg, and he could feel the vibration of each impact as it traveled through and around the basic armor piece. He tried thinking around solutions, but nothing popped out at him. After half an hour of unproductive, attempted solutioning, Reid sat back and stared at the ceiling. He let his mind wander. The room was professionally built, even it it was a little cheap. He could almost hear the phantom buzz of the fluorescent light fixture in the center of the room. The light had one of the patterned plastic covers on it that always threatened to crack and break when you had to remove them to change a bulb. The fixture was attached to a standard cheap drop-ceiling, all metal flats and white square panels. That, plus the fluorescent lights, reminded Reid of the ''changes'' they''d made to the call center. Originally, the building was some sort of manufacturing plant. It had exposed brick, and tall ceilings. There were original windows that had discolored over years and years, and they lit the space with a lovely yellowish glow whenever the sun was out. But as aesthetically pleasing as the exposed beams and brick had been, they were hell for him and his team. Every conversation in that office echoed off the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. It was impossible to have a regular conversation in the cubicle area without raising your voice - especially in the really busy hours around lunch and just before closing. For a long time, management had refused to try and make any changes. It was unnecessary, or too expensive, or the rental contract made it too difficult to ask. That line of answers abruptly changed when Linda - the GM''s assistant, and also very importantly not his wife - had a confidential, nearly-whispered conversation about the GM''s sexual prowess at the watercooler. The watercooler she''d chosen for this wonderful conversation was in a corner of the office Reid''s team had nicknamed the amphitheater - for obvious reasons. Word spread about the GM and Linda, and suddenly fixing the noise issue was a critical thing. First, they attacked the floor. The GM wanted to replace the tile flooring with carpet, but the building owner refused. They ended up with a series of cheap, mismatched area rugs instead. That had helped a bit, but it didn''t solve the issue. A drop ceiling was installed off of the existing exposed beams. Walking into the office after the ceilings had been lowered felt claustrophobic. But it had helped with the noise. People no longer had to shout during casual conversations. The last piece was putting up sound deadening panels on the walls, but Reid hadn''t cared about that as much as he did the ceiling. He missed looking up and seeing fourteen feet of open space. All of that gone, because of the GM''s infidelity and one person''s conversation. Reid let out another long breath. He stared at the ceiling, then looked down at his shin. His pulse quickened. Foam blocks, the ceiling squares - they were both absorptive. Pitted. Spongey. Reid had made many of the weapons as fully or mostly solid pieces. It made sense - those things had to puncture through salamander skulls and cleave off limbs. But a shield was the opposite. It needed to protect from strong blows, sure, but that wasn''t just about being solid, it was about dispersion. Reid''s breath caught. He''d made the greave solid, just like he''d done with the weapons. Just like he''d done to his bones. CH 43: Mistakes were Made Reid was almost shaking. He''d made the greave solid. Almost entirely solid, just like the weapons. But armor and weapons had two different purposes. They never needed to be the same. They couldn''t be. Reid thought back to the moment he first strengthened his bones. At the time, he''d considered all the spongey areas, and even the marrow-producing centers to be major weaknesses. The changes he''d made had seemed to work, but if he''d messed things up, that meant Reid had spent weeks trying to better himself with a fundamental flaw holding him back. Reid needed to test things. He pushed his awareness into the greave, and methodically hollowed out cavities in the center of the thing to make it more like a sponge. It ended up looking a bit like a matrix or lattice, with some ''beams'' in the bone that were thicker than others. The work itself was slow, and Reid stopped a few times to make sure he was keeping track of just how much he was removing and replacing. When he was done, Reid felt the change. A quick look confirmed it. Fibula Greave [Common] Reid slowly extended his hand and tapped the armor with his knuckles. He nearly gasped. The feeling of impact on his hand was about the same, but he didn''t feel any of the impact on his leg. The greave deadened the force, just like good armor was supposed to. A knock on the door interrupted Reid''s testing. James and Sara entered the room. She had a towel in hand, and James threw Reid a paper bag. Reid glanced at the clock as he caught the warm bag, and realized that he''d missed dinner entirely. Sara didn''t seem to mind that he was still working, but Reid knew she was just as worried about him as Susan was. He forced himself to breathe and relax. The last thing he wanted right now was forced rest. Answers were just out of reach. He just had to be patient. "Hey dad - very fashionable bracelet. Dinner was twice-baked potatoes today. Mom was worried you missed it and asked me to check up on you. I''m also supposed to walk you over to the showers and tell you to take the rest of the night off. Mom''s trying to do something new with her skill, so you''re by yourself until sunrise." Reid thanked her and went to give Sara a hug, but she stopped him and pinched her nose. "After you shower, please. It smells like a locker room in here." James gathered some spilled arrowheads and put them into bins as Reid ate the potato. He tried to move one of the bins closer to the door, but the bottom of it bent and gave out. Axe heads clattered to the floor, and James cursed. "Eh, sorry. Looks like we''re going to need stronger boxes for these things. I''ll ask some of the guys to come clean this up and move everything. But damn did you make a lot. Tomorrow''s going to be fun." Reid brushed off the spilled ivory and chatted with James as they all headed for the showers. Things had been... awkward with the man since he came back after the Bertrand fight, and that had only gotten worse since Sara''s takeover. Reid told himself that when he had more free time, he''d sort things out with James. The man was one of his only friends, and they both deserved a proper chat. But now wasn''t the time. He had other things he needed to do. Reid was out of the shower, clean and clothed in about four minutes. Sara gave him a hug goodnight, and set out for her own nighttime training. James was teaching her how to navigate in near darkness without using her skill. Reid was happy to see her expanding her knowledge, and he was relieved to see the dynamic between her and James hadn''t changed much. When he got home, Reid set up a cot and stripped off his sleeping clothes. Just because Susan and Sara wanted him to rest didn''t mean Reid actually had to do that. He just needed to be careful and ensure he didn''t do anything that would make them worried. He felt refueled enough to continue experimenting, and he couldn''t fall asleep right now if he tried. There were too many possibilities to test - and too many gains to be made. As long as Reid didn''t lose track of time or exert himself too much, he''d be done well before his wife and daughter would be there to check in on him. Laying down while working on himself was always the best and safest choice. The cot would be comfortable enough - and it would save the bedsheets from any inevitable sweating if he needed to push himself. Reid laid down. The room was dark. He could just barely hear a song playing at Warren''s. He took a cool breath through his nose, and got to work. Reid started off by creating another piece of armor. This one was a tight fitting piece around his forearm, and Reid took care to have it be the right size, shape, and the right thickness. He redid portions of the lattice to try and make it better. When he was done, he inspected his work. Ulna Vambrace (Common) created! Reid''s mouth drew tight. He''d replicated the Common rarity on the first try, but common wasn''t good enough. Reid had been able to make something incredible in Sara''s sword, and he''d had uncommon versions of weapons during the crafting spree. If he was going to rework his own bones, he damn sure wasn''t going to settle for common. He needed to be better. Reid dove back in again and grew a new greave for himself. He designed it to be as perfect as possible, but it was still stuck at common rarity. Reid frowned. The lattice, the beams, all of it came together well. The rarity had gone up to common, but he couldn''t make it rise again, no matter how much time he spent building the lattice. The thickness of the supports didn''t change the rarity. The connection style to the outer walls of the piece didn''t seem to improve things either. Reid made another vambrace, then a breastplate. He made a gauntlet and a pauldron. No changes. All were Common. Reid took a break to get up and pace around the room. The armor was good - but it wasn''t good enough. Something was missing. Something fundamental that had allowed Sara''s sword to become as incredible as it was. He had complexity in his current work - but Sara''s sword went beyond that. It was... wholly interconnected. Balanced. Reid couldn''t make another growth piece like that. He didn''t have the time, or Susan''s help. But he needed to test things. He needed to know. He could try it... just on his arm. Just a little. Reid stared into the darkness out the window. Worst case scenario, Reid would mess up really really badly and lose function in one arm. If that happened, Susan could probably heal his bone back to ''normal''. If she couldn''t, he could always just amputate the arm and see if Susan could heal him a new one, right? But no matter what. he wouldn''t be able to finish the experiment, not outside of himself. There were entire systems inside of his skeleton and in Queen''s Edge that he just didn''t have the energy to make from scratch. He needed a live test. Reid took off the bone armor he''d created, and laid back down on the cot. His breath was quick. He flexed his fingers. He''d already made the decision... it was time to make it happen. Nerves weren''t going to stop him now. Reid pushed down into his left arm. He worked slowly. Spaces opened up for marrow to exist and build red and white blood cells. Inner structures were strategically hollowed out and reconfigured to more closely match what they were before Reid had started all this self modification. He set up extra sponge at the joints - and then he started to feel it. Reid recreated blood vessels that had been interrupted by his first work. He pulled different threads of himself through the bone. Pressure was building against him. Reid had found another hill.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. He voraciously leapt into more of the bones in his arm. The increase in marrow produced more blood and was doing wonders for his internal systems. His arm felt just a bit more... balanced than it had before. Everything had started to feel just a little bit better. Reid was hooked on the feeling. He finished the arm, then a leg. The largest bones represented the most work, and he decided to work through them before his headaches really started to come on. When they did, Reid didn''t slow down. He fixed structures, slimmed down and reinforced his bones. He wound more blood vessels into himself. He made shorter pathways and grew out more marrow. Each time, he found that familiar hill that signaled he''d done as much as he possibly could in that area, and then moved on. Each heartbeat throbbed in Reid''s head and felt like he was getting stabbed in the brain with needles, but Reid kept going. His bones felt like they were itchy and on fire at the same time. But he needed it. He needed to finish. He needed to know. # Reid was panting when he finally finished and pulled himself back. He and the cot were both covered in sweat. Everything hurt. And Reid beamed. He brought up his status screen, and stared.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 12 Health: 342 / 350 Experience: 82,619 / 102,400 STATS: Constitution: 32 -> 35 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 6 Perception: 11 Power: 35 Control: 70 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR ENHANCEMENTS: Osteal Smithing Journeyman (Calcification) RESISTANCES: Substances - Sedatives Active Skill Effects- All RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
Weeks of frustration. Hours deep in thought, unsure of how he could improve Constitution. And in one evening, one of Reid''s biggest issues had been solved by staring at a ceiling. Well, there was a little more to it than that, but thinking deeper meant acknowledging that Reid had caused the problem for himself in the first place. Working through his bones had helped him understand that, as well. Those early changes had given him a tiny, temporary amount of extra durability at the cost of his body''s synergy and overall growth. Reid''s stomach growled. He decided to celebrate his breakthrough with a flavored bottled water... and a trio of peanut butter protein bars that actually tasted like food. His body greedily took in the nutrients. Reid sat on the cot, contemplative, while his body digested. He needed the rest, he knew. Working through his bones should''ve knocked him out, but the itching pain was actually keeping him awake. Reid could almost feel his internal well of energy refilling. The cot was cold and damp, but Reid didn''t feel like getting up just yet. He let his mind wander. His constitution problem was fixed. He''d practiced heavily with his skill, and learned how to make decent external protections. He picked the pauldron off the floor and turned it in his hand. Subdermal armor just wasn''t a possibility. Or, maybe he''d eventually evolve his skill to a point where it could be, but he didn''t have any idea right now of how to make the thing work for him. Answers to adjusting or breaking the skill felt entirely out of his depth, as well. So, bone armor pieces were going to be the way to go. He tapped a finger against the pauldron. It was a good piece. He pulled his bone knife out of its sheath and ran it across the guard. The knife left a visible nick in the bone armor. Reid left it there and stared at it. He''d already been attacked by his own weapons once, and he wasn''t optimistic enough to think that he was the toughest thing out there. The higher level salamanders were good proof of that. Their claws could probably chip armor like his, or cut through it entirely if they were strong enough. Reid frowned. He needed more strength and toughness. Something to prevent himself from getting injured, so he didn''t have to rely on battlefield healing - or time spent out of the fight to fix himself and his armor. Reid looked at the wall clock. It was only midnight, which meant he should have a few more hours to experiment if he stayed awake. He could try to jump back into one of his main stats, but Reid felt like that might be too much to start partway through the evening. If he was going to do more stat work, he wanted to have pure, uninterrupted time to do so. And he wanted to only try that stuff when he was at least midway full on his internal energy. So, if he wasn''t going to directly work on stats, why not try something a bit different? If Reid couldn''t make subdermal armor, why not try to experiment with making his skin itself more resilient? Reid put the pauldron down and laid on the cot once again. He dove into his arm, and focused on a spot just above his right wrist. His skin was dotted with pores and hairs, and the deeper layers were fed by thousands of tiny pathways bringing blood and other bits to it. Reid decided to leave the living internals alone. Everything was as efficient as he could think to make it, and it was already up against the hill limitation-wise. There just didn''t seem to be enough to work with there. Instead, he focused on the top layer. It was layer on layer of dead cells. There wasn''t much Reid could do to morph and change parts of him that were already dead, but he tried anyway. As Reid expected, his attempts only resulted in wasted time and energy. He pulled himself back, and brought up skill details he hadn''t looked at in a long time. Hardening [Common] Scales with Level. Increases resistance to bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing damage. Advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill. Reid knew this skill, alongside strengthening and calcification, were part of what allowed him to manually improve himself so well. But that didn''t mean he''d explored all of the potential applications those skills could have. He knew his skin was stronger now, even without any self-improvement. He thought on how the skill worked. Stopping bludgeoning force was probably the result of elasticity and deadening. Piercing damage seemed like something only straight resilience and hardness would solve. Then, slashing resistance probably came out of a combination of stronger, yet more flexible skin. Reid wondered if he could control the balance. He focused in on his arm again. The top layer of dead skin, to his surprise, was something he could slightly manipulate, but most of the control seemed to exist further down in the living layers. Reid tried a full boost. He imagined and willed his skill to get both more resilient and more flexible at the same time. If he could get it to a higher level of resistance, he thought, maybe the skill itself would upgrade like calcification had - and then he wouldn''t need bone armor at all. Each attempt failed. There was no new balance to achieve - instead the skin kept reverting to what it was. But Reid had learned something in his attempts. He had some idea of how to elevate elasticity and resilience in his skin, and that would... probably eventually let him do what he wanted to improve the skill. But he still had energy left. And he was awake. His bones itched. And he was frustrated. So why not do another test? Reid focused in his skin again, but this time he only tried the hardening portion of the self-enhancement. Slowly, he felt his skin stiffen as it became firmer than before. Bits of dead skin cells seemed to fuse together like callouses as he willed them to become even more durable. But that still wasn''t quite enough. There was more - and he could feel it. Something else just waiting to be discovered and used, just beyond his current understanding. A notification nearly distracted Reid but he shoved it aside. He didn''t just want hard skin - Reid wanted skin that was its own armor. He could feel it, like a thread of possibility that ran from his mind down into his body. Reid followed it, studied it, puzzled on the implications. He imagined himself as tough as a robot, as strong as a stone golem. The thread ignited with energy and pulled hard on Reid''s still-low reserves as skin began to change. This didn''t feel like using his other skills - it felt... different. Like Reid was being carried along a river current instead of controlling the flow. A speck of immensely solid, durable material formed on Reid''s skin. It grew to the size of a grain of sand, then a pebble, then a pea. Reid watched as the surrounding skin was transformed. Then it went deeper. The transformation wasn''t staying at Reid''s outer layers. It plunged down into his arm as the area expanded. It quickly grew to the size of a golf ball. Blood vessels and muscle were made completely solid and Reid started to lose feeling in his hand. Reid tried to stop it, but the reaction was out of his control, and his energy reserves were nearly empty. The notification he''d ignored and a new one both popped into view as Reid opened his eyes. WARNING! Attempted corrupted skill use detected. Corrupted skills may have unknown effects. Visit a beacon to awaken and resolve this issue. WARNING! You have activated Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED). Seek out a beacon immediately to resolve this issue. Reid couldn''t move his lower arm. He tried to get up from the cot, but fell to the floor. Horror grew as he realized why. His heartbeat slammed in his ears. He hyperventilated and shook. Reid''s entire lower arm and the right side of the cot had both turned to stone - and were fused together. But that wasn''t the worst part. The stone was still spreading. Reid watched the transformation crawl up past his elbow, and he screamed. CH 44: Repercussions In grade school, one of Reid''s science teachers had put out classroom decorations for Halloween. They included spooky chalkboard drawings, and a table full of gadgets and fun tools. Reid had loved the plasma balls. They were clear, and purple bits of electricity danced inside them, then arced out to touch your fingers if you pressed them to the surface of the ball. One ball in particular had caught his attention. It was at the back of the table, larger than the rest, and it was cloudy instead of clear. Reid, in the classroom early and by himself, had decided to put his hand on the larger ball to see if the electricity would arc out and dance. When he touched it, Reid realized it wasn''t a plasma ball at all. It was a crystal ball lamp, and Reid had directly touched the lightbulb. Instead of seeing lightning, the heat of the thing burned the tips of Reid''s fingers. Reid scrambled back from the pain so quickly that he''d knocked over a row of desks. He''d had to go to the nurse''s office, and he didn''t have fingerprints on that hand for two weeks because of the burns. But his brain had reacted for him quickly enough that he didn''t suffer any real lasting damage. Reid''s brain was in full reactionary mode now - once again because Reid had touched something without taking the time to figure out what it really was. Reid flailed and tried to kick himself away from the cot - and his stone arm. The cot made a grating sound as it slid across the floor. This wasn''t something Reid could run from. It was already in him - changing him. Reid still wasn''t certain exactly how he''d activated the corrupted skill - and he had no idea how to shut it off. Reid plunged into his arm and healed himself. He drew on the already drained well to do it, and the stone''s transformation slowed where his self-healing met it. But the stone didn''t stop - and Reid was only slowing down a small area. It wasn''t nearly enough. Even if Reid had been topped off on energy and freshly rested, he wouldn''t have had the ability to stop the process. There was no internal way to turn things around - and every second he wasted, things got worse. The cot had started to fuse with the floor, which was now also turning itself to stone. Reid needed a fix. A solution. The notice had told him to get to a beacon, but he couldn''t. The thing was too far away - by the time he made it, he''d be half stone. And - he wasn''t even sure if he could get the cot up off the floor. The stone was just too damn strong. Even if he could make it, the beacon didn''t seem like the right answer. The thing had tried to kill him last time, and Reid didn''t want to repeat that experience while also turning into the world''s least intimidating gargoyle. Reid pushed into his lower humerus and grew out a disk, like a frisbee. If healing himself didn''t slow down the transformation, maybe putting something else in front of it would. The petrification crawled through it just like it crawled through the rest of him. Reid swore. The stone was at his bicep. His heart hammered in his chest. If this continued, the stone was going to touch his torso - and then he''d be truly fucked. He couldn''t let that happen. No matter what, he couldn''t let that happen. Reid wasn''t going to die here. Not now. Not like this. Reid ripped his bone knife out of its sheath and plunged it into his shoulder. Skin and muscle split and tore as Reid sawed through himself. His self-enhancement had made his body too goddamned durable. Reid wished he were weaker. Rending his arm open was absolutely agonizing, and it was happening far too slowly. He barely managed to keep himself focused amidst the panic and pain. In. Out. Up. Down. Push. Again. The knife slowly separated his flesh as he half-sawed with it all the way around the top of his arm. Blood was pooling underneath him. Its sticky warmth contrasted the cold numbness of his arm where the petrification progressed. SHIT. It was close now to the cut. It was so close. And Reid couldn''t cut through his bone with the knife. He''d tried. He''d done it over and over again, but all he got for the effort were a few nicks on the surface. He needed a different strategy. Reid glanced around the room. The stone floor was spreading. The only thing close to Reid was the pauldron by his knee. He grabbed it. Reid screamed at the top of the lungs and slammed the pauldron down into his shoulder. The pauldron and his body cracked. Neither broke. Reid slammed the thing down again. And again. And again. He never stopped screaming. Bone cracked. Then fractured. Then slowly started to truly break. A long crack separated the bone lengthwise, and Reid cursed. He''d just reinforced this fucking bone and now that was working against him. He needed the thing to snap free but it was still holding on. Time blurred with the pain and the repeated blows. He had no idea how long it took before everything finally shattered. It felt like hours and milliseconds all at once. Reid fell away from his severed arm and slammed his head on the floor. Flesh and gore hung loose off his shoulder, and he could see marrow through the cracked and sharded bone. Blood flowed freely from the mess. Reid''s head swam. He couldn''t stay there. It wasn''t safe. The floor was still transforming. Reid forced himself to his feet. The end of his arm still attached to the cot was fully transformed. The stone crept slowly up the nearest wall. Reid jumped over the spreading area, then stumbled out the front door. He held a hand over his right shoulder, but it did nothing to stop the blood loss. He couldn''t see any lights. He was too far from the walls to get one of the guards. He had no idea who was home. It felt like he couldn''t scream. Like if he tried, he''d stop breathing. Instead, his jaw quivered and he sucked in breath after breath as he stumbled.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. He could hear the radio playing at Warren''s. There would be people there. It was closer than the wall. Reid shambled in that direction. Reid could see the lights. Shapes moved at the bar. His legs gave out. Reid tumbled to the ground. Dirt and gravel from the pathway embedded in his arm and added new levels of pain. Reid tried to heal himself. He tried to close off the blood vessels - just to stop the bleeding. Nothing happened. Reid couldn''t concentrate. He couldn''t feel the internal well of energy. There was nothing Reid could do to fix himself. Shouting came from the bar. Reid heard footsteps crunching over the gravel. His vision went white, and he passed out. # # # The first thing Reid heard was snoring. Susan''s snoring. That quickly ended, as a medical aide also in the room announced that Reid was waking up. Reid didn''t want an announcement. He felt like twice-baked garbage, and he had no intentions of getting up. Susan rushed over to him and grabbed his left hand, then told the aide to leave. It was about that time Reid remembered what had happened before he lost consciousness. He tried to lift his left arm, but Susan didn''t let it go. He couldn''t feel anything from his right. He swiveled his head, and saw a partially regrown stump where his arm should be. Oh, fuck. Susan was talking to him. "Reid? Can you hear me? Do you understand what I''m saying?" Reid nodded. Susan''s eyes watered. She wiped them with her free thumb, and then put the hand to Reid''s head. It glowed with healing energy. "Are you certain? No pain, no headache, no lingering issues?" Reid nodded again. Susan let out a long sigh. "Okay. O-kay. I love you, Reid. And I''m glad you''re safe. Now -" Her face turned serious. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Reid''s eyes went wide. He looked at his arm, then his wife. "You were on LIGHT duty. You were supposed to be resting - but instead, you just decided to make yourself more armor and bumble your way through trying out your skills!" Reid was still finding his voice. "Sue, I-" "DO NOT PET NAME ME RIGHT NOW. I don''t care that you just woke up, either. This is fucking serious. I''m serious. Do you know how many times I''ve had to mourn you, Reid? The answer is too fucking many. And yet, here you are trying to find unique new ways to off yourself." "I wasn''t-" "Reid - you turned everything in a 30 foot radius to solid stone, starting with your arm! Which - you then had to hack and break off to get free. I saw everything, Reid - both on you and in our now-stone home. I know exactly how much blood you lost in there - because the puddle is now permanently enshrined in stone! You were supposed to be goddamn resting! Healing up from your last experiment!" "Susan, I''m sorry. I-" "BULLSHIT. You''re sorry? Reid, if you cared one fucking iota you would''ve listened to me. Hell, you know I wanted to put you on full bed rest after you made Sara''s sword. God knows you needed it. But I figured you wouldn''t do well sitting still like that - that I couldn''t stop you from doing things entirely- so I compromised with light duty, and I assumed you would fucking respect that. That you''d listen. That you would take that compromise. But no. The second you''re left to your own devices, you go off and try to entomb yourself!" Susan''s hands were shaking. She still hadn''t let go of Reid''s hand. "Susan, with the world changed, I can''t stay st-" "OH! THE WORLD CHANGED, DID IT? I HADN''T NOTICED! I don''t think anyone did, you know? Come on! Reid, I spent last night trying to grow a tapetum lucidum in my fucking eyes to give myself night vision. I did that with the intention to then do the same thing to my daughter and my husband - because I''m well aware of the situation we''re in and the fact that we need every advantage we can get." Susan''s eyes were red. Her chest was heaving. Tears started flowing freely down her cheeks. She kept squeezing Reid''s hand. "But getting more powerful doesn''t mean shit if you''re just going to end up the strongest corpse in the goddamn graveyard!" She took a few shallow, quaking breaths. Her voice quieted as she continued. "Reid, your cancer isn''t progressing. We have time. We have time now. Please, stop treating each moment like you''re going to die the next. I know you need this, and I know you want it. I''ve seen how getting stronger has lit a new fire in you. I can see that and I love it and I want you to have it. But please, Reid - just listen to me. I''m not trying to stop you or slow you down. I''m trying to keep you from the preventable, avoidable things. The half-cocked decisions that come out when you''re exhausted from 15 straight hours of skill use, even though you don''t think you need the rest. Reid, you never should''ve been in that position. But even then, you could''ve done it smart. I could''ve been monitoring your tests. You could have listened to me, and actually recovered before you went in and tried what you did. Even pro athletes rest after game days, Reid - but you haven''t been resting. You''re damaging yourself and you don''t see it because you''re so tunneled in on your goals. I don''t want to stop you from reaching those goals, Reid, I just want to make sure you don''t collapse before you get there." Sneakers squeaked on the floor outside. Susan''s head turned towards the noise, then back to Reid. "Overexerting yourself has consequences. Not just your arm, or your health, either. I know part of why you want to get stronger is about helping Sara and I." Reid nodded in agreement. "Well, you''ve been unconscious for over a day. If anything bad happened in the last 24 hours, you would''ve been absolutely powerless to stop it. Another Bertrand could''ve rolled over us. Salamanders could''ve broken through the walls. But because you thought you knew your limits better and didn''t want to listen - because you tried to worm your way out of my recommendations like they were a game - you put Sara, and me, and yourself and everyone else in more danger." Reid went to sit up, but Susan stopped him. "I''m so fucking angry with you right now, Reid. I''m so, so fucking angry, and yet I''m still more relieved and happy that you''re alive. But Reid - I need you to listen. This isn''t an all-or-nothing game. The choice isn''t just progress or weakness. That''s a false dichotomy, and I would''ve assumed you''d have figured that out. But you haven''t. You nearly killed yourself, and you overtaxed your body so much that my healing magic won''t move through it properly. I couldn''t regrow the rest of your arm because of that, Reid. At this rate, I won''t be able to finish regrowing it for days. And inside you - it looks like you''re a desiccated wasteland. Like any large amount of energy you move around will kill you. So if you can''t allow yourself to see that being balanced is a better and overall quicker path forward, I''m going to make the choice for you. We are a family, Reid. We aren''t going through any of this shit alone. But you started treating me like a prison warden instead of a partner." Susan stood. "So today, and tomorrow, and until I say you''re back to good health, that''s how I''m going to treat you. One of my aides is going to be watching you to make sure you don''t try to exert energy. You''re going to wear a heartbeat monitor so you don''t try to pull this shit again. And your imprisonment is forced rest. You''re going to sleep in, and you''re going to eat double rations, and you''re going to spend the day talking, or reading, or relaxing. And as long as the inside of your body looks like it''s going to self-detonate from energy expenditure, that continues. It goes as long as I say it needs to. You put all your coins in the self-exertion basket, and now it''s time to balance out the scales." A long silence stretched between Reid and his wife. Reid knew he''d screwed up. But he hadn''t taken any time to think about the potential consequences of that. Not at scale. He''d also had no idea about the damaged internals - though he could feel an ethereal pain and soreness where his well of energy should be. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Susan was right. Reid would never stop pushing and grasping for more strength and power, but he could be better about treating himself right while he did it. Susan didn''t want him to slow down on that, either. She just wanted to make him approach it a bit differently. Reid thought back to Queen''s Edge. If Susan hadn''t been there to heal him, the sword might have failed, or broken, or exploded. And if he didn''t find a balance to his self-empowerment work, Reid might break or explode, too. He needed a middle path. A happy medium between comfort and pain. Between force and grace. Between opening a jar and holding an egg. He almost groaned. James''s words came back to Reid. He needed to find his coffee cup. "Okay." Susan was still squeezing his hand. "Alright. And I''m glad you''re okay. Even if you aren''t fully okay." She leaned in for a kiss, then crawled into the bed with him. He held her with his one arm for a long while. The moment started to feel more intimate as the minutes passed. "So, does exertion include..." Reid waggled his eyebrows. "Reid, you need to rest, and you only have one arm." "I can pick you up and move you around with one arm, though." Susan let out something between a cough and a squeak. "Not here - and we can''t at home anymore. Someone turned our bed to solid stone." "There''s still the floor. Sleeping bags. Pillows. And countertops." "All stone, Reid. Everything in a thirty foot radius is solid stone." Reid put on a lopsided smile and winked. "So.... fancy countertops." Susan lightly slapped him on the cheek, then pulled his face down for another kiss. CH 45: Recovery After the talk and quiet moments with Susan, Reid had realized something. When he had the headaches that led up to his cancer diagnosis, Susan had implored him to get things checked out. It was only his stubborn idiocy that prevented him from catching things much, much earlier on. It was one of those dumb, preventable mistakes that seemed obvious in hindsight. So, Reid''s first fix to himself was on his own poor mentality. Reid had shared multiple conversations with Susan about what happened. They dove together deep into explanations of the feelings Reid had in his body as he''d worked, and a less than fun experience where Reid mentally walked himself back through the process of how he''d petrified everything. Susan had multiple people with bladed weapons present for that one, just in case Reid needed to lose another limb. This time around, he listened. He communicated. And he grew. It was incredibly slow the first day. Reid was only allowed thirty seconds of self-work every hour. The next, it rose to five minutes. By day four, Reid was allowed to do several hours of work on himself without stopping to rest. By the end of the week, a combination of Reid''s self-healing and Susan''s skill work had done enough to get his ''internal energy landscape'' back to normal. That also meant Susan was able to finish regrowing his arm. Reid still thought they should workshop a better name than internal energy landscape, but Susan had shut his banter down quickly on that one. And - he listened, and had stopped being a pest about it. Post-recovery, following Susan''s advice let the couple engage in new and exciting experimentation. A blade sliced through and around Reid''s left arm, down to the bone. "Again." Reid moved through himself, healing his body from the inside out. Susan stood over Reid, watching closely as he followed the instructions she''d given him. He started with deep tissue and blood vessels. They knit together far more quickly than they had prior to this practice - and Reid stopped healing long before pain and heat truly overtook his senses. He pulled himself up and out of the still-open, but no longer bleeding wound and looked at his wife. Her hands glowed with energy as she inspected his work. "Better. Much better. No residual bleeding. This wound looks like it could take a decent amount of strain, and you improved your time again. Let''s continue with the weight tests." Reid started with a 20-pound dumbbell, and worked his way through a series of exercises they''d set up to test his progress. He held the weight out in his hand, and turned his arm. It was painful, but it didn''t tear open any of his recent work. He caught a medicine ball. Lifted a full barbell. Susan scribbled notes, and nodded for him to continue. Susan''s efforts to get Reid a better way to recover from injuries was incredibly exciting. He was able to focus in on how he healed himself and the specific areas he needed to work on to do so. All of it improved his ability to survive wounds without fully exiting a fight. His speed wasn''t great enough yet to actually heal himself mid-battle, but it might get there eventually. Every time he dove into himself and fixed an area, he paid more attention to what exactly he did and the order in which he did it. And now - healing certain things in certain parts of his body were starting to feel more like muscle memory. Susan''s notes - and Reid''s own cataloguing - had offered some insights that helped Reid ensure that muscle memory was crafted correctly. It wasn''t high stakes by any means, but Reid knew a handful of people from his softball league that had never learned the proper way to throw a ball. They could, technically, throw - but their form was all wrong, and they ran the risk of injuring themselves each time. They overstrained certain muscles, didn''t use the entirety of their body effectively, and more often than not missed what they were throwing at. But, because they''d been doing it that way for so long, it was incredibly hard to un-learn the poor form. Reid had found a bit of that in his own process, with Susan''s help. He''d often fix muscle before blood vessels, and as a result was spending extra energy to power his muscles while he repaired other parts of himself. That was, by Susan''s theory, one of the reasons why Reid had struggled and been unable to stem the bleeding on his arm. He didn''t need a massive amount of energy reserves to do so, but he also didn''t know how to work without bringing out massive amounts of energy. The work they''d done greatly increased Reid''s survivability. The muscle memory creation, and the rapid-recovery healing practice were incredible things on their own. But they had also paved the way for another discovery. Susan had Reid carefully work to activate specific skills, like strengthening, and made him take stock of where Reid felt the pulls of energy. They worked together to try and ''map'' the ethereal space. While the mapping portion failed quite miserably, Reid did manage to ''feel'' one of the skill-threads within himself. And instead of reaching beyond his capabilities, Reid focused on getting to know that specific skill. Strengthening was already a great skill. It was Reid''s first, and helped him survive quite a few battles. But, Reid found he was using the thing wholly inefficiently. And part of that was... a personal problem. Strengthening was intrinsically tied to Reid''s states of rage and anger. Every time he''d let himself fall into the waves of rage within himself, the skill had been ''let loose'' throughout his entire body, all at once. Because of that, his entire body was overworked and overclocked. That applied to his physical body, and his internal energies. Both were overdrawn - which was the reason he felt so utterly exhausted after a rage session.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. In rare cases, Reid had better controlled the application of the skill. Punching into coyote skulls came to mind. But that was still just Reid pushing massive amounts of strengthening energy into his fist, instead of letting it run wild throughout his body. Through practice, though, Reid had learned to better focus the effects. It didn''t give him quite as much of a strength boost, but focusing on a smaller and more specific strengthened area massively lowered energy consumption and fatigue. His rapid partial regeneration, paired with targeted strengthening, was like magic. Well, not like magical healing or fireballs, but ''this-is-incredible'' style magic. Reid could grow back a portion of muscle in a nearly severed arm, use strengthening focused in on the newly repaired muscle, and achieve nearly full normal strength as a result. He racked the barbell back, and stared at the open wound. Lifting weights with an arm only connected by blood vessels and a few strands of muscle was, in Reid''s opinion, one of the coolest freaking things he''d ever done. He smiled at himself, then at Susan. He''d hit the milestones she wanted to see out of his skill testing and growth. He was back to full health, as much as she could see. And that meant tomorrow was a big, fun day. One Reid had been waiting for. Tomorrow, Susan would help Reid make himself a growth weapon. # The orange juice Reid sipped on was concentrate from a can, mixed with water. Warren had offered to put alcohol in it for him, but Reid turned the man down. As much as he wanted alcohol to lubricate his current conversation, Reid needed to be in top form for tomorrow''s work. So, he endured and sipped his juice. All around him, nearly everyone else was downing beer or spirits. Warren''s had, miraculously, managed to stay ''open'' and serving Sanctuary''s residents. So, Reid sat at one of the tables. He stared hard at the orange juice as his brain failed to come up with another throwaway conversation topic to share with James. The two of them had been playing a game of conversation chicken for the last twenty minutes. Weather, Sara, and recovery had been excellent distraction topics - but anything ''new'' there had already been discussed between the two of them. Their ritual of daily visits to the bar had exhausted those topics. And Reid knew it was time for them to actually have the conversation they needed to have. James ended up breaking the silence first. His voice carried the extra slip into his home accent that always came when he was a few drinks in. "Do you remember when we first met? Actually first met, I mean. Before the system." Reid nodded. "My bladder was near bursting, and Marlene made me run down that hill to go offer you our help. She was insistent we needed to do it." Reid let a pause stretch out. "She''s always been her own, incredible brand of driven, Reid. To the point where she worked people however she needed. It''s one of the things I love about her. But she also lived to lift people up. Helping people improve themselves made her happy, but she''d work on others well beyond the point where she really wanted to. She''d agonize over getting people who weren''t good or weren''t motivated to do better. She''d use their own mentalities against them - for their benefit. And she always hated it when she had to give up on any cause, any person because they were beyond her ability. I think..." James swirled amber liquid in his cup and stared at it as it rotated. "I think she decided, when she got in charge, that lifting people up wasn''t enough. I think she assumed she had to raise up some new sense of civilization, and the only way she could understand it was by using people to prop up that idea. But she stopped seeing the people as people and started seeing them as... societal scaffolding. She internalized this need to make people better and stronger not for them, but for this idea of a new society. I can''t blame her for that." James took a long drink of his beer. "She and I, we''ve seen what happens when evil shits are left in charge to lead. We know what it leads to, and why people need a good, competent leader. But the pressure of all this, it took Marlene down a bad path. I explained it away while it was happening, but now that she''s not in charge anymore, Reid..." James sighed. "She''s back to herself - at least mostly. She''s back to the person I fell in love with. She''s back to lifting people up, instead of looking at those people as a way to lift up a community." James looked Reid in the eye. "So thank you. I''m still worried about what Sara put into Marlene''s contract, but at least I have my wife back again." Reid turned his glass in his hand. "Yeah, I talked with Sara about that a bit more the other day. I think Sara was mostly on autopilot with her skill when it happened, and... being on autopilot can make things happen weird with pathfinder. She should''ve talked to Susan or I before she did everything, I know. She''s taking after me with all this ''do it myself'' stuff, and we all know where that leads." Reid tapped his recently regrown arm. "But I''ll have another talk with her, and we can try to figure out how to make it a bit better." When Reid looked back up, James''s eyes were a bit wet. "Reid - You''re a good... Reid I''m sorry. I left you, and I left Louis. It''s my fault he''s dead, and then I left you by yourself, and I hate myself for it. You should hate me too. It''s alright. I deserve that." Reid grabbed James by the shoulder. "Jesus, man. I was captured. You were making snap calls. You had hundreds of people to look out for, and you kept them safe. You made sure Susan was safe. How the fuck could I be angry about that? You didn''t kill Louis. Bertrand''s people did - and they''re dead, James. Louis died to make sure everyone else lived - and you made sure they got out alive. Give yourself some credit for that, and stop worrying about me. You and I are good. I don''t blame you. And if you start crying, Warren''s going to kick us out. So do me a favor, and don''t worry about that again." # Later that night, Reid lay awake in bed. His mind was too excited to rest. He''d practiced with dozens of weapons, but hadn''t decided which one he really wanted to use. The only thing he knew was that he wouldn''t be using a sword. While he enjoyed the idea of using one, he knew he wasn''t particularly good at it. Swords could be Sara''s thing - Reid wanted something different. Reid blinked at the ceiling. What weapon would he wield? CH 46: Reids Weapon After their... rather heartfelt exchange at Warren''s, Reid and James had quickly fallen back into their normal joking conversations. Reid loved having his friend back - and brought the topic of weapons up to him in anticipation of the next day''s work. James had many opinions. His first thoughts were about reach. According to James, Reid should avoid anything that required infighting. While Reid was capable of overpowering almost everything, he wasn''t exactly skilled at dodging blows. Something with reach would help keep him in fights longer, James reasoned. He was heavily opposed to the idea of a glaive - or anything like one. While Reid could potentially learn how to use the weapon, James argued that he didn''t have the skill right now, and that Reid would want to be deadly with his choice right away. Reid had countered that a glaive was just a sword-on-a-stick... which did not help James come around to the idea. The simple answer on what to make, in James''s words, was a spear. It was the thing that would give him reach, and puncturing power, and options for slashing. Reid could grow in skill with it, but it would be deadly enough at day one to serve him well. It was, after all, one of the most popular weapons in all of history for a reason. James latched onto the spear idea, and spiraled into a long winded discussion on the various forms one could take. When Reid wasn''t convinced, James got a bit absurd. He offered up that Reid could just do spiked armor and punch things. That led to discussions on katars and comic book characters with knuckle knives. Eventually, James told Reid to just make armored boxing gloves out of bone and be done with it. Reid had to remind the increasingly inebriated man that those already existed, and were called gauntlets. James''s final recommendation, slurred and heavily accented, was that Reid should just hit things with a shovel or make a giant club, since he was awful at any strategy or fighting form. Baseball bats with nail spikes, or an actual weapon like a tetsubo were used in broken examples. As drunk as James was, the man had a point. Some of Reid''s best athleticism and coordination was steeped in years of experience playing baseball and softball. He knew how to swing a bat, and a club was really just a larger version of that. But it still didn''t sound right. # Reid still wasn''t certain what he would make when he and Susan arrived at the operating room. It was early, and a hint of light had just started to filter into the room. A few tea candles were still burning in round cylinders. They gave the room a certain mystical feel. The ''operating table'' was covered in a combination of sheets and plastic, and plastic bins were laid out on the floor below the table''s edge. Apparently, no one wanted Reid''s process to include the weapon bleeding on the floor. Danny was already there, with Lowell as a guard. Sara and James were supposed to join them as well. A box full of rations and water were sitting on the floor, waiting for everyone in attendance to get fatigued enough to dive in. Danny''s part in today''s process was not to heal Reid. He was here to keep Susan from feeling fatigued, and Susan was handling the actual healing. Reid hadn''t had a part in that decision, and Susan was adamant that it was fine - but Reid still felt obligated to say something. "Lowell, Danny, thanks for your help today. And Danny, I know we started out badly. There was a lot going on, and I... treated you poorly. I''m sorry about that. I''d like to believe you''re a good person - and I hope you can think of me that way as well. For now, thanks for this, and for the other help you''ve been giving the people here." Reid held out a hand towards the healer. He stared at it for an uncomfortably long time before his trembling hand rose to meet Reid''s. Danny''s hand was still shaking when it clasped his, and Reid brought his other hand around to hold the man''s arm. "This is a small room, and you don''t have to stay in it. If today makes you uncomfortable, I don''t care what anyone else says. You can leave." He held Danny''s gaze for a few seconds, gave his hand another squeeze, then turned around. Danny let out a long, audible breath. Reid walked over to the camping chair set up in front of the ''operating table''. It was a bright green color, with the arms that slid up and down if you moved them just the right way. Reid took his seat, and stared down at today''s project. The patient. The seed. For all his guessing at what weapon should be made today, Reid knew one thing with absolute clarity. He wasn''t going to start from scratch. Just like Sara''s sword was a modification of a weapon that had already been important to him, Reid''s too would be made from something impactful. Something that he already carried an emotional connection to. The shovel was bright and unassuming. It had been washed clean, and candlelight reflected off its surface. Reid had used this shovel to bury Louis. It felt right that he would be able to carry the thing with him. He wanted - and needed - to turn that into his strength. A weapon that would make it so he didn''t need to bury another friend. He brushed his hand over the shovel head, down to the bottom of the handle. A shiver of excitement went down his spine. Sara burst into the room, and hugged Reid over his shoulders. James waved from the doorway. His eyes were red, and he was definitely suffering from a hangover. Reid waved back, squeezed his daughter''s hand, then leaned forward and put both hands on the shovel. Everyone was here. The medium was ready. It was time to begin. Reid dove into the shovel. It had been created quickly. Almost sloppily. The handle had the beginnings of microfractures from the stress Reid put it under while he dug the grave. His grip tightened around the handle. He healed the microfractures and took in the internal structure. It wasn''t great, but he would be redesigning it later on. Right now, his focus was on experimentation. Reid needed to feel out his options, and that alone would take time and energy.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Reid started with the simplest option. The shovel itself could be a weapon if it was sturdier and sharper. Reid thinned out the edges, then adjusted the handle slightly to make it more durable. That definitely wasn''t the way to go. Reid the bone shovel wielding knight wasn''t going to be coming to a battlefield anytime soon. But the work wasn''t a waste. The bladed shovel''s edge lent itself to a line of tests Reid knew he wanted to try. He started with the most simple. Reid narrowed the shovel''s head and elongated it. The spear tip grew in size until it was the length of his forearm. He held it for a few moments, but even though it was a good option, it didn''t feel like the right one. He tried serrating the edges, and even did one design inspired by old Aztec spearheads that looked like they were lined with razor blades. The promise of utility was there - Reid could see himself successfully using a spear. But through the different permutations, it still didn''t feel right. Reid tried a halberd. Then a glaive. A guandao. A war scythe. A polearm. None of the sword-on-stick options felt right to him. A not-insignificant part of Reid had wanted that to be the right fit just to shove it in James''s face. He did like how they looked, but James was right - Reid couldn''t see himself using them properly. They would all just end up acting as fancy-looking stabbing spears in his hands. He removed the blade at the tip of the shaft, and grew the thing out until it turned into a large, rounded club. It... didn''t feel wrong. Reid fought with a lot of gusto and not a lot of skill. But Reid could not become some shirtless, raging... brute. Okay. He had essentially lived that life on his way through the forest, but that wasn''t what he actually wanted for himself. He needed something that he could use, similar to a club - but more refined. More purposeful. More complex. When he finally imagined it, Reid knew it was right. Reid thinned out the club, and moved to the handle. He created two thick rings, one at the top and the other at the bottom of the grip area. He worked a spiral pattern into the entirety of the grip, then made another in the opposite direction to create a series of diamonds with curved faces. When that was complete, he made a small round bulb at the grip''s base. There was enough grip area for Reid to use both hands - and to shift his grip and stance if he needed. Reid ran up the length of the weapon to the head. Then, he grew out a blade. It started as a large curved protrusion. Reid picked a point about two thirds up the length of the thing, and pulled the top of the blade inward, then did the same thing with the bottom. He was left with two concave blades that met in a wicked looking point. The blade was thin - and razor sharp. But it was fragile. Reid added mass behind the edge. Just beyond the blade, the structure expanded until it was as thick as his thumb. From there, it flared out and down until it became nearly two fingers thick where it met the weapon''s shaft. It was good, but far from done. Reid mirrored the blade and the thick support on the opposite side. It now looked a bit like a small, bone kite at the end of a stick. Or an axe. But Reid didn''t want an axe, and he didn''t want small. He doubled the size of the blades and their supports. It was better. Closer. He grew out another pair of the reinforced blades at an angle to make the head look like it had an "X" pattern, then made another final pair to turn the head into a six pointed star. He inspected it for a long while before realizing what needed to come next. Reid grew a horizontal supporting ring around the weapon under the six points, then sloped it up and out to meet them. With that, each face and blade of the weapon was connected to the other, and the point of each blade now looked a bit like someone draped a sheet over a coat rack. After some thought, Reid adjusted the top and bottom ends of each blade to make their own pointed tips. When that was done, each flange like a very curved and deformed "W". He added another set of ribbed supports to the new points at the top and bottom of the head, then shifted back down into the shaft. The space between the grip and the weapon''s head was smooth - and not at all useful. Reid added a series of six-pointed rings, matched at the top and bottom to the orientation of the blades. In the middle, they were slightly offset from one another to create something of a spiral that mimicked the one on the grip. If someone tried to grab that section of the weapon, the points would catch their hand and injure them. If a bladed weapon impacted them, the points would hold it in place or slow it down considerably. Reid shifted his focus back, and frowned. It still felt like it was missing something. Reid explored his work for a bit before returning to the head of the weapon. There, he drew out a long, solid point that extended up and out the shaft above the blades. He paused, and waited. The weapon felt right. It was slightly different from what he first envisioned - and in this case, different was definitely better. There were no more changes to make at this stage. Reid had made an agreement with Susan to take a break after the initial reconfiguration was complete, so he pulled himself up and out of the weapon to check his work, and refuel his body. Congratulations! Spike-tipped Flanged Mace Created! Reid stared at his creation. It was almost as long as the table it sat on, and Reid knew it would barely fit through a doorway standing upright. He put the full length a bit over six feet tall. The top foot was the spike that came out the tip. The next two feet were the bladed flanges, and the rest was the handle and grip. It looked solid and sharp enough to smash through Mark''s walls. Reid wanted to pick it up and try it out, but he forced himself to slide the chair back and relax. Susan squeezed his shoulders, then handed him a water. Sara tossed him a protein bar from across the room. James was sitting next to her, and they shared mischievous smirks with one another. James tilted his head as he spoke. "You made a club, after all." Reid was suspicious of whatever James-Sara collusion was happening here - but answered anyway. "I tried it, but didn''t stick with a club, as you can plainly see. This is a a spike-tipped mace. Knights used maces. They''re civilized." "That''s just a fancy club for reformed barbarians." "It has bladed edges! And a spike!" Reid complained through bites of protein bar. James shrugged. "You''re going to swing it around like a club, so it''s a club." Sara leaned forward and interrupted. "You should name it Grond." Reid cocked an eyebrow. "No." She continued on anyway. "There aren''t many famous maces, and most that I can think of are really morning stars and not maces like that one. So the only real option is Grond. Not movie Grond, that was a battering ram named after the actual Grond - which was a Mace - or, maybe a hammer? Morgoth had it. So you..." Reid shook his head and ignored his daughter''s continued nerdy-naming obsession as he looked around the room. There was no clock on the walls. "Hey, what time is it?" Susan rubbed her neck. "About noon, so you''ve been at this for six hours, give or take. Half of that was the shape changing, and the past three have all been you working on the final product." She gestured to the table. "which, looks pretty complicated to me. I''m leaving it up to you, Reid. Are you stopping here for the day?" Sara and James let out complaintive groans from the other side of the room. Susan''s sharp stare shut them both up. "I feel fine, but let''s give it a few minutes just to make sure. I don''t really feel any strain, honestly. Even with the detail work so far." Susan nodded and scribbled some notes down. The notebook she was holding had been brand new, but Reid saw multiple pages worth of information had already been added to the thing. She''d been just as busy as he had doing the work. Reid was looking forward to seeing what she had to say about what happened to his body during the crafting process. Reid waited, and took stock of himself. His internal energy was still strong. His head and his body felt fine. He ate until he was full, and drank two bottles of water even though he didn''t really feel thirsty. He told Susan he was ready. Reid cracked his neck. The ''easy'' part was done. He had his mace. It was time to make it a growth weapon. CH 47: Rest It was time to make a growth weapon. Reid pushed himself back into the mace. It was much, much larger than Queen''s Edge, which meant the level of work inside the weapon would be far greater. There was simply a need for more pathways, more nodes, and more waste flow. He also needed to make everything work without compromising the integrity of the head and flanges that he would need to smash through his enemies. Reid made a mental map of what he wanted to do. Unlike Sara''s weapon, Reid wouldn''t be restricted here by the need to route all the energy directly through the handle. He could, technically, fix and upgrade the weapon entirely by himself whenever he needed. In reality, though - Reid couldn''t be sure how much energy doing that would actually take, and whether he''d be able to do the upgrades and repairs without Susan or someone else there to heal him through the process. So, he definitely wanted the self-repair and growth style functions he''d made in Sara''s weapon - but he could also decentralize some of the same functions. Reid worked tirelessly and crafted an intricate set of tiny pathways throughout the weapon. It didn''t seem to take too long, and he barely felt any fatigue and pain thanks to Susan''s healing. With the knowledge from Queen''s Edge, he made nearly everything he needed the first time through. There were pockets for marrow, places to break down used resources, and connections to the flanges and the bottom of the grip that would allow it to bleed. Reid made sure to not activate any of the marrow and didn''t let the weapon create any blood. He wanted everything to come alive at once this time around. He went back in and reinforced certain areas, rerouted a handful of pathways, but the vast majority of the weapon was looking good. Reid thought about what else he wanted from the growth weapon. His experience getting cut by his own sword came to mind. Reid wanted to be the only one capable of holding the mace, and he wanted a way to get the thing back if it were ever stolen. He knew from what Sara had shared that bonding would prevent the first issue. When bonded, no one else would be able to properly use the weapon - and Reid expected that as long as his mace qualified as a growth weapon, he would be able to bond to it. So, it was the second requirement that he needed. If the weapon was ever taken from him, how could Reid get it back, and how would he even find it? In the first days after the Earth''s transformation, the system had guided Reid to Sanctuary using a waypoint. Having something like that to find a lost weapon would be a huge help, but Reid was certain there had to be better options. For one, it was a system-controlled thing that he''d only seen once so far. For another, Reid wanted something more accurate - the ping never had any indications of distance, or how to get to the thing. It would be much better, in Reid''s mind, if he could just summon the thing. The system had shifted him to a subspace and then put him back on Earth, which meant some flavor of teleportation had to be possible. Actual teleportation felt a bit out of reach for Reid''s skillset at the moment, but it was still worth a try. The start of any kind of teleportation or summoning, Reid thought, had to include a true connection to his weapon. Reid cautiously probed forward, and let intuition guide him partway. He hollowed out long, hair-thin spirals that ran up the entire length of the weapon. They connected at hundreds of different points in the Mace''s handle, and then the intuition led him down an entirely different path from what he was expecting. Reid knew how to manipulate the ''thread'' for his strengthening skill to make it perform different actions. And some of the changes Reid had to make reminded him of the structure of the spirals in the weapon. But the spirals didn''t want strengthening. They didn''t even want his Calcification skill - not by itself, anyway. Reid felt it. They wanted a connection that was beyond physical and beyond a skill. It wasn''t about empowerment - the spirals needed something that was part of him and part of the mace, all at once. He pulled back slightly to think. Reid ran his thumb over the grip''s diamonds. The mace started out as a shovel. And why had he made the shovel? For Louis. Reid had lost him. With the shovel, he''d buried him, like Louis deserved to be respected and remembered. So the shovel, as a weapon - represented Reid''s commitment to remember, and to fight. It was a combination of violence and reverence. Compassion, and damnation. After a long time in thought, Reid finally decided to follow his gut. He etched Louis''s name and a small outline of a dog into one of the handle''s curved diamonds. Anyone else would need a magnifying glass to read it, but Reid could feel the name as his fingers gripped the weapon. It was reverence. It was a promise. Reid held Louis''s memory in his hands as surely as he did a weapon. Reid hesitated, then continued. The future - his future - was defined by growth, need, and protection. He would keep fighting for his wife and his daughter. He wanted to protect his friends and those he was close to. He picked out diamonds, and etched in names. Sara. Susan. James. Mark. Lowell. Even Marlene. Some, Reid loved. Some were friends. Some were less, but still important to him and his growth. They filled their own diamonds around the Mace''s grip. Reid held them all in his hands. Reid rubbed his fingers over the names - and then a realization hit him. Each name he''d carved sat almost directly above one of the hair-sized threads spiraling through the weapon. It was a connection - his connection to the mace. He pushed energy through his body, and into his right hand. He held onto the ideas of what he wanted the mace to be - what it needed to represent in the front of his mind. He felt the mental strain - and realized he was only half ready. Reid lifted his left hand to the weapon''s grip, and set out to connect to each of the regular vortices. Pain built. His mind complained. He nearly lost hold of the energy waiting in his right hand, and almost lost the grip on the vortices in his left. He needed it all to work. He needed everything to activate at once. His brain felt like it was being ripped in half and mushed together multiple times every second, like someone mixing up ground beef with their hands. When the moment of clarity hit him and he saw himself touching all the vortices, he didn''t hesitate.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Reid yanked the vortices open while he pushed the swell of energy in his hand down into the spiraling hairs. A second, massive torrent of energy flashed out from Reid''s body and into the mace. He felt the swirls energize throughout the weapon''s shaft - and then they reverberated. Energy pulsed back into Reid. It climbed through his body, and shot up into his mind. He felt it form. A two-way connection with his weapon. A link, and a bond. The connection vibrated with a soft hum, pulsed out into him again like a heartbeat, then settled. The vortices continued to suck down his energy as Reid let himself read the notifications. - Congratulations! Unique Growth Weapon, [Requiem] Created! Congratulations! Bonus Experience awarded for producing a unique growth weapon. Bonus experience awarded for creating a weapon above your grade. NOTICE: This weapon possesses multiple traits. NOTICE: [Requiem] has successfully bonded to [Reid Calderwall]! NOTICE: Additional trait unlocked - Smith''s Recall. - The weapon''s information appeared, and Reid read through the trait descriptions. - Requiem [Legendary] Rank: F Traits: Self-Repair, Growth, Smith''s Recall, Bonded - Self-Repair This weapon is capable of self-repair, either through latent energy stored within the weapon, or through external injections of energy. Growth This weapon is capable of growth. Growth may only occur in conjunction with the growth of the bonded individual. Growth may be fueled by latent energy stored in the weapon, or through external injections of energy. Smith''s Recall As the bonded creator of this weapon, the osteal smith is forever connected to their creation. Whether the original is damaged, destroyed, or lost - the smith may completely recreate Requiem through the use of mana alone. Whenever Requiem is recreated using this method, any existing versions of the weapon are immediately destroyed - even if the recreation fails. Requires sufficient energy, and a clear mind. Bonded This weapon is bonded to its owner through the use of simple energy matching. Anyone that attempts to wield this weapon without a matching energy signature will fail. Attempts to identify this weapon will only show the bare minimum level of information, depending on the level of the identifying user. He''d done it. The mace was bonded to him. It was a growth weapon, and it had intrinsic self repair. Reid could wield it without worry about breakage, and he owned the thing intrinsically. Even if someone just wanted to know what the weapon was, they''d need his permission. Wielding it would be nearly impossible for anyone else. But the true outstanding factor was Smith''s Recall. Reid assumed the energy requirements would be high, but he didn''t care. He had a way to ''call'' his weapon to him like he''d intended. The idea of recreating it from scratch wouldn''t have been his first choice, but the more Reid thought about it, the more he enjoyed the idea. He wouldn''t need to worry about some flying hazard flinging itself back towards him every time he needed to call his weapon, and it seemed like distance in general would pose no issue. Reid would also get a mint-condition version of the weapon anytime he used the trait - so it was an effective way to instantly repair or re-forge the mace. After drooling over the traits, Reid shifted focus back up to the weapon''s name. He''d workshopped a few of his own options before starting the process, but they all fell away from his mind. In standard, modern English, a Requiem was a slow and sad melody meant to put people to rest - like a funeral dirge or mass for the souls of the dead. The original word was the Latin equivalent of "Rest" itself - and it had grown in use to define a token of remembrance. Reid squeezed the Mace''s handle until the diamond pattern and engraved names dug into his palm. Requiem was perfect. # Reid slowly realized everyone in the room was staring at him. Well, almost everyone. Sara was shaking James by the arm and babbling on about how cool the light show was. Lowell was leaned up against the far wall - and though his eyes didn''t drift far from Danny, he was smiling. When Reid finally broke the silence, he kept it simple. "It worked. It''s a growth weapon." Sara held two fists in the air and half shouted. "YEEESSS. We match! So, dad - what does it do? Can it repair itself like mine? Can it do other stuff?" Susan handed Reid a water and a protein bar, then uncapped a water bottle for herself. She looked fatigued, but in good spirits. Her shirt was drenched in sweat. Danny was similar exhausted and soaked, but also had a smile plastered to his face. Reid realized his own condition was about the same. He greedily sucked down the liquid before tearing into the bar. His tee shirt was stuck to his torso, and he realized he could see through it. White was a bad choice for weapon work. Sara continued asking questions until James rubbed his eyes and groaned at Reid. "You could''ve warned me about the blinding flash of light. I''m going to be seeing stars for weeks." Reid could tell James was trying to distract his daughter and control the conversation, and he was thankful for it. Reid was exhausted - and while he did want to talk in detail about what the weapon could do, serious conversations were very low on his list of desires right now. Danny silently walked over, raised his hand, and let out a pulse of healing energy towards James''s head. Danny blinked fast, as if realizing what he''d just done, then turned to Lowell. The man put his palms up at the healer. "I''m not here to stop you from healing people, Dan. Just keeping an eye on you." Danny flashed a timid smile, and then jumped when James clasped him on the shoulder. "Good man. You''ve saved me from Reid''s wicked, evil flashbang club." Reid painfully swallowed a mouthful of partially chewed protein bar, then pointed the other half at James. "It only lit up once - and it''s a mace." James crossed his arms and leaned into his mock argument voice. "You don''t know how often it''s going to light up. It might have some trait that makes it flash like a disco ball whenever you swing it over your head." "That''s ridiculous." Reid feigned outrage. James animatedly waved his hands. "Okay, okay. Maybe it won''t flash like a disco ball. But if you''re not going to say what it does, at least tell us what name you gave it." Reid shifted in his seat. "The system called it Requiem. It''s fitting, and I''m gonna keep it." "Requiem? Are you a film major? Are you about to launch an indie flick? That''s the most -" Reid grabbed the handle of the weapon and pushed a mass of energy into the mace. The flanges started to bleed slightly, and it emitted a tiny, faint glow. "What was that? What did you do?" "I tried to get it to blind you again. Be thankful it didn''t work this time." "See! I was right! Your club is going to flash like a disco ball! OH!" James''s smile turned wicked. "A disco club! YOU MADE A DISCO CLUB!" Reid brushed a finger over James''s name on the grip and smiled. "I hate you." CH 48: Quest Pending The rest of Sanctuary was far from idle while Reid regrew his arm, experimented, and then recovered from making Requiem. The captured healer, Danny, was still under near-constant supervision, but he''d been helping everyone out more and more. He healed fatigue out of defenders while they drilled. He assisted Susan with her skill-based and more mundane experiments, and compared notes with her on how each of their skills worked. His healing skill was of an inferior rarity to hers, but they found he could mostly overcome that gap by expending more energy in the process of using the skill. Danny only shared pieces of his story with a few select individuals, but had apparently told them it was fine to talk about it with others. Reid wasn''t sure if gossip was the best way to have people learn about you, but he couldn''t judge. The man had his own reasons, and Reid could understand not wanting to repeat those experiences over and over. He believed the story he''d heard secondhand was at least probable, if not wholly accurate. Danny was something of a pacifist. He refused to hunt, and he didn''t train with weapons, even when told to. Danny hadn''t killed anyone himself - at least not willingly. Bertrand saw the man as weak and manipulatable, and brought him into his army for his skill. Danny wasn''t there by choice, and he was beaten if he didn''t heal Bertrand''s soldiers. That wasn''t the bad part, though. Danny was level seven. He was level seven, and he''d never willingly killed anyone. His hand held a blade, but he never picked up the knife. He never moved his arm, but it slashed through a throat all the same. Bertrand had used his puppeteer skill, over and over, to force the man to kill those around him. His first kills - his first levels - came from those he''d been with before Earth''s awakening. Sanctuary didn''t have any "proper" mental health professionals, but Sara had found Danny the closest thing. One of the high school archery coaches, Marysa, was a social worker in her day job - and she was also going to school to become an LCSW. The difference, Reid learned, was that a social worker ''only'' needed a 4-year degree. A Licensed Clinical Social Worker had to get a graduate degree AND pass a licensing exam. Marysa wasn''t close to being exam ready, but her presence in Danny''s days made a world of difference. The man didn''t flinch every time he saw Reid. He started asking for things like food when he was hungry, and water when he was thirsty. And he started talking more to other people. Marysa, for her part, kept the sessions between the two of them entirely confidential. Only she knew what had really happened to the man. Whether the gossiped story was true or not, Danny was, unmistakably, broken. Reid had his own part in that - though he forgave himself for it. A comment he''d made to Louis came to mind, ''Doing the healthy thing - or the right thing - it really is a luxury''. At the time, Reid hadn''t had the luxury of performing a moral compass check on every person in Bertrand''s forces. He didn''t have the strength to force everyone into a situation where he could''ve made that distinction. And if the same thing happened again, Reid still wouldn''t feel obligated to understand his enemies before he took them out. That was just the nature of conflict. Danny, though, wasn''t the only one that had a major development. Toby had also undergone some big changes. After his evacuation march through the woods, he''d become more confident in himself. He started spending more time with Lowell, and the two of them had grown quite close. Reid didn''t miss the smiles and laughs they tried to keep subtle - and he''d expected to hear them properly announce themselves as a couple in the near future. That new confidence had been part of the reason why Toby volunteered to be an envoy. The envoys were all set up with vehicles, at least one Sanctuary defender as a guard, weapons for themselves, and supplies for the beacon residents they would meet, if they were needed. They also had ham radios to help them communicate over longer distances. The things weren''t perfect, and they took some training to learn how to use them, but they were a massive improvement over the walkie talkies everyone had gotten used to. None had returned or called home with good news. Most of the settlements were set up like internment camps. There were guards, or a cadre of people in charge - and the rest were treated like slaves or prisoners. In some locations, those in charge took part in ritual killings to ''extend the reach of their supplies''. One settlement didn''t even bother with the lie. In every instance, the weak - or anyone without a combat-relevant skill was preyed upon. Bertrand''s hometown, Bertland, was the only exception. Life there was very similar to Sanctuary - just normal people living out normal, daily, post-apocalyptic life. They didn''t believe the envoy about Bertrand''s real activities. Sara ended up having to bring the Bertland sub-leaders - including Bertrand''s wife - to Sanctuary. They still didn''t fully believe in Bertrand''s actions until they''d been forced to read the man''s journal. Bertrand really was a bastard. It made Reid glad that his legacy had died in the mud. Of all the settlements, Toby''s was the worst. Margaret was some local hamlet that had been renamed by the first person to touch the beacon. When Toby returned from his mission there, he did so without his defender guard. Half of his torso and his left shoulder were wrapped in bloody bandages. He''d gained five levels - and needed emergency healing to keep him from death. The survivors he''d brought with him weren''t much better off. They were the last living members of Beacon Margaret - one man, six women, and nine children. Every one of them was missing at least one limb. One of the women had none. Some sported barely-healed gouges in their shoulders and torsos. All needed medical attention. Susan and Danny had worked through the night to regrow their limbs and close wounds. Marysa took on their mental health - but called an emergency meeting with Sara after just her first session with a survivor. A blanket ban on cannibalism was enacted. Reid still shuddered thinking about it. But the people of Margaret proved surprisingly resilient. They warmed up to Sanctuary''s residents rather quickly. Marysa recommended giving them work rotations and defensive training. She called it ''purpose and empowerment''. Reid thought they all just looked relieved to be out in the open air.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Toby refused to talk about what happened at Margaret. But as the survivors grew more comfortable, they shared the story with a sense of awe. According to them, Toby and his guard were given a tour of Margaret by the man in charge. At the end of the tour, the leader showed Toby the cages and offered him and his guard a ''fresh sample''. An argument broke out. Toby''s guard was killed. The details from there differed. Toby was shot by the leader, or by one of his lackeys. He killed the leader right away, or he made the man suffer. He''d triumphantly blew through Margaret''s complicit residents like a force of nature, or he had spent his time striking out from the shadows. Whatever details were told, the outcome never changed. Toby fought. He was injured. And he killed everyone in the settlement that wasn''t in a cage. After the rescue, Toby''s demeanor was different. His hands and his eyes were steady - if a bit dulled. He no longer shied away from staring anyone in the face, including Reid. He carried a deep, but fragile sense of composure - like an ancient boulder that had spent a thousand years perched atop a smaller rock. It was solid and sturdy, but seemed like it could roll away with the right push. The man refused to speak with Marysa. Instead, he spent his days between work, drilling with the defenders, and quiet time with Lowell and the survivors. He only smiled when he was with Lowell, or the children. His eyes only came alive when he was doing combat drills. Toby had taken to one of the war hammers Reid created, and showed a surprising level of skill. Danny mentioned that he''d practice until his hands bled. Lowell practiced with him, though not to the same extremes. The quiet man had been drawn to using a bow - and while he wasn''t exactly ''skilled'' with the thing, he was capable enough. There was an entire group of teenage archers with something to prove, after all - so they weren''t exactly hurting for skilled ranged fighters. Mark had, surprisingly, joined in on the ranged drills as well. He used a combination of his natural coordination and strength to become a menace with throwing spears, and trained hard. But even his efforts with thrown weapons paled in comparison to the work he did with his skill. While he''d never admit it, the split in Sanctuary''s wall from the level 12 salamanders had wounded the man''s pride. His response was cranking out wooden materials like an absolute machine. The man had made more arrow shafts, axe shafts, and other bits and bobs than Reid made weapons - just on the off chance they could be used. He''d further reinforced the outer walls, and built up the inner walls to match the outer''s durability. While he hadn''t stopped drinking, he''d cut back considerably - and then used that extra time to make wooden armor for the defenders. Conversations between Reid and Mark had helped the man with his designs, and as a result, every defender and most of their reserves sported a common level set of wooden plate armor. The defenders'' weapon tests had gone surprisingly well. Few could even come close to Reid''s strength, but the melee weapons were able to put holes in the level 10 skulls with enough force, or enough repeated blows. The real outcome Reid was excited for, of course, were the ranged weapons. Regular bone broadheads were able to punch through skulls up to level 5 or 6, and the bodkin points were able to put a hole through a level 9 skull in the right hands. It meant that even without magic attacks, the defenders would be capable of resisting the strength of most waves they''d seen thus far. Their direct combat ability wasn''t the only thing they''d improved on. James and Marlene had both been giving lessons on small group tactics to all the defenders. Marlene ran advanced training to nurture some of the standouts. She''d even started planning out a combat force structure that decentralized command to the set of ''officers'' she''d nurtured. Sara, though the overall leader of their forces, was one of the people benefitting from Marlene''s direct instruction on tactics - and James''s combat training. Sara had picked up proper swordplay ''extremely fast'' according to James, and where Reid had been a brute with the weapon, Sara was graceful when she wielded Queen''s Edge. She was doing well in the group tactics lessons, especially since she was trying to learn without the use of her skill. She''d worked to better understand Pathfinder, and had started to truly map out some of the flaws. Sara''s wants or desires, when acting as a prompt for pathfinder, had a tendency to prioritize outcomes. It also behaved differently when Sara prompted it with anything that had an absolute. Intent mattered, quite a bit. Wanting the quickest way home might take her through more dangerous terrain, or skip potential resources. Wanting the best way home would take longer, but hit on the things the other prompt might miss. Wanting to make Sanctuary stronger and wanting to go home might take Sara on a path that specifically intersected a gun store. Group on group tactics practice make the intent much more... directly noticeable. If Sara prioritized an objective, like winning, she''d lose people, but she would win. If she prioritized keeping people safe, she took fewer ''casualties'' but lost just as often as she won. Reid had spoken to her about Marlene''s contract, and Sara was adamant that she intended to revise the thing - because she saw the same issues with intent and absolutes present in the contract''s wording. She just wanted to understand the skill better before she tried to make changes. The testing they tried to better understand how Pathfinder fundamentally worked didn''t really pan out. The best - and only - gains in understanding came from Susan. Her work with Reid had helped her better feel how energy moved inside of another person, and she''d felt absolutely massive quantities shift inside Sara when she activated the skill. Interestingly, the energy continued to be drawn out while the skill was ''actively'' leading her towards an objective as well. It didn''t tell them how it worked, but it did let them know that Pathfinder chewed through immense amounts of energy. That implied Sara was far and away a prodigy when it came to innate energy storage, and use. Susan hypothesized that if anyone else in Sanctuary had Sara''s skill, it would''ve worked more like a ping than a path - and even then, they''d barely have enough energy to perform the initial activation. Reid was proud of his daughter, but worried. He knew how awful it felt when you overexerted your internal energy, and he wanted to ensure she avoided that. But further testing with Susan hadn''t come close to figuring out where the bottom of Sara''s energy pool was. Everyone trained on. They tested themselves, drilled, and learned. They explored the other settlements, brought in refugees, and worked hard to make life just a bit better at Sanctuary. They did it all with the message hanging over them like a cloud. Current Quest: Secret Event Quest Assignment Pending. Please Wait... CH 49: Quest Assigned Reid, Sara, Susan, Marlene, and James walked atop the battlements while they chatted and ate. Reid was deeply focused on the most important part of the morning - the food. Today''s breakfast was luxurious. Scrambled eggs, seasoned with salt and pepper, were stuffed between two pieces of freshly baked bread. The bread had been lightly oiled and toasted, and it crunched with every bite. Reid would''ve killed for cheese and sausage - possibly literally. Variety in food was something he''d taken for granted, and he promised himself he wasn''t going to forget how awful a lack of options could be. His cheeks stretched as he stuffed the remainder of the egg sandwich into his mouth. Their food situation had been greatly improved by Sara''s scavenger runs as of late - which included an overturned grocery delivery truck that had 10 mostly-intact boxes of spices. The bit that had made this morning possible, though, was when a scavenger team stumbled onto a small chicken farm. They''d managed to bring back four dozen hens, and most of them were good layers. Mark crafted a coop in half an hour - and Sanctuary was now rich with eggs. They still needed more supplies - they always needed more supplies - but they were getting closer to truly being able to support everyone through the winter. Susan and James were chatting through how Reid''s energy expenditure had worked during the creation of Requiem - and how that might translate into actionable changes the magic casters could make in order to hit harder, or strike more often. They''d grown more accurate with practice, but none of them were truly outstanding with the skills. After Reid''s creation of the bone arrowheads, the archers had taken massive steps ahead of them in terms of lethality. James didn''t want them to lag behind. Requiem Hung off a makeshift sling on Reid''s back. It wasn''t pretty, but it held the thing to him well enough. A thick red blanket was wound around the blades and the spike, and it made the whole ensemble look like Reid was wearing an upside-down Christmas ornament. He didn''t care about the odd look, so long as it kept the blades from accidentally bumping into other people - or into Reid himself. Reid had ''practiced'' with the weapon - if you could call obliterating wooden mannequins practice. Mark had banned him from wasting any more of the practice dummies, but that was alright. Requiem, in the few swings Reid took, felt like a living extension of his body. It was, in a sense, a living extension of Reid. But the feeling he had while holding it was simply sublime. Swinging it felt right and natural in a way that the clip point radius and Reid''s knives never had. That part of Reid that hungered for violence wanted something to test Requiem against, but he pushed those thoughts down again as he finished chewing the sandwich and swallowed. In front of him, Sara walked with Queen''s Edge in its scabbard attached to her belt. It barely bounced as she moved, as if the sword was constantly moving with her. She was in the midst of a conversation with Marlene about ideal troop formations for flying enemies. It involved some change to the amount of people using ranged weapons in each squad, and Sara was questioning whether someone with sufficient strength could jump up to reach a flying creature. Everyone froze when the message changed. Current Quest: Secret Event Quest Assignment Pending. Please Wait... ... NOTICE: Secret Event Quest Assigned! NOTICE: This is an event quest. During event quests, all awakened individuals may earn bonus points. Quest: The Crimson Titan''s Domain Sanctuary failed to hunt and kill the Crimson Titan as an adolescent. Their failure allowed this beast and its domain to prosper. While you grew in the tutorial, the Crimson Titan gained levels, minions, guards, and other resources that made it the inherent ruler of all surrounding territory. Now that your tutorial is complete, you must take back control of this area. Defeat the beasts and conquer their domain to preserve Sanctuary. Destroy the Crimson Titans and its minions to prove your superiority and seize your prizes: * Human Control of the Local Area * Upgrades to the [Calderwall] Empire and its Citizens * Direct XP Bonuses and Titles * Graduation from Provisional Lord to Local Lord
Marlene swore. Sara''s eyes darted back and forth, reading text only she could see. James had subtly moved himself into a defensive position between their group and the outer wall. Reid moved to join him. He knew they''d failed at least one hunt quest early on, when Marlene was knocked unconscious. But the quest didn''t make sense - they''d already fought off all the beast waves they were supposed to - and they hadn''t been running into any other beasts of significance out on their scavenger runs. There was no ''domain'' that Reid could see them needing to control. Sanctuary was by itself, it was stable, and it was safe. The notifications pinged on.
ERROR: Tutorial Incomplete. Pre-Tutorial Event Quests disallowed by safety controls. Pre-Tutorial Domain Quests disallowed by safety controls. Controls adjusted... CONGRATULATIONS! Safety controls overridden. Quest may continue. ERROR: No Provisional Lord detected. Detecting alternative... CONGRATULATIONS! Upon successful completion, Lord Candidate may directly become Local Lord. ERROR: Time limit detected. Tutorial may begin before quest completion. Calculating solutions... Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.CONGRATULATIONS! Hostility adjusted. All beasts will attack Sanctuary to expedite this quest. CONGRATULATIONS! Beasts will be teleported closer to Sanctuary to expedite this quest. NOTICE: Countdown to beast teleportation: 1d 0h 5m 40s NOTICE: Hostilities will begin in 1d 1h 5m 40s ERROR: High number of individuals detected outside quest area. CONGRATULATIONS! All [Calderwall] Empire Residents will be teleported to quest location. NOTICE: Insufficient teleportation points. Enabling disruptive teleport procedures. Please brace for localized shockwaves. James shared a concerned look with Reid. Marlene silently stared at Sara, who was still sifting through text only she could see. Sara let out a rapid-fire crescendo of ''fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck''s that only ended when she sent out a Sanctuary hierarchy-wide notification. It popped into view for everyone a moment later NOTICE sent by [Lord Candidate Sara Calderwall] Don''t panic. The system is teleporting people to Sanctuary. If you aren''t here, you''ll be teleported. Don''t make sudden movements, stow weapons, and stop vehicles if you''re traveling. Again, stay calm. Sara''s eyes focused back on reality when the message was sent Her face was filled with concern as she turned to the group and spoke. "Okay - I looked up-" Dozens of deafening thunderclaps interrupted Sara as they echoed over Sanctuary. Trees and windows shook. People appeared with every sound and let off flashes of light and small shockwaves wherever they popped into existence. Sara shouted over the noise. "I looked up disruptive teleportation! A normal teleport makes a pocket of empty space for someone to get pushed into. This one just has the person''s mass shove all the other air out of the way when they appear. We''re hearing the sound of people disrupting air." A window shattered in the Rec Hall. Along the wall, guards were half-panicked. The very-new set of officers were doing their best to maintain order and stop their guards from firing off any shots. The frequency increased until dozens of thunderclaps sounded out every second. People appeared in the middle of roads. Some flashed into existence on the beach, others over the surface of the water - where they promptly fell in and started shouting. Many appeared just inside Sanctuary''s walls, and large groups were popping up in last stand field. It was absolute chaos. Some people were naked. Others were clad in full combat gear. Everyone was disoriented, and some were armed. Reid hoped they wouldn''t start shooting each other. It took another twenty ear-splitting seconds for the teleports to stop. Amidst the noise and chaos, Reid watched a ragged, disheveled man sprint for Sanctuary''s currently-open front gate. He wasn''t familiar, and looked like he''d been hiking through the woods in the same set of clothes for days. It only took a moment to realize this was a ''guard'' from one of the outlying settlements that had originally escaped justice. The teleport had forcibly reunited him with those he''d mistreated - who were currently sprinting after him. The gate guards had rifles ready to fire, but the officer in charge continued to give them the hold signal. Gunshots now would only stir up more issues, Reid knew. He was even happier with the decision not to fire when he saw what happened next. A few hundred feet outside Sanctuary''s walls, the man slammed headfirst into an invisible wall. His impact made a small, shimmering ripple that extended 10 feet in either direction. He was thrown back a few feet from the point of impact, swearing and clutching at his face. When he saw the mob nearing him, the man stood again, and ran towards the same spot. The invisible wall blasted him back this time. He was thrown twenty feet back, and had an arm bent at the wrong angle. The mob following him closed in, and Reid turned away from what happened next as justice caught up with the bastard. Another notification brought everyone''s attention back. NOTICE: All forces of the [Calderwall] Empire have been gathered at quest location. NOTICE: To prevent unfair advantages, travel restrictions are in place until hostilities begin. Attempts to circumvent restrictions will be met with resistance. Reid realized Sara was hyperventilating and sweating. Her hands trembled, and she whipped her head in a new direction every few seconds. Reid tried to approach her, but she held up a hand to stop him, then waved off everyone. "I don''t - I don''t know what to do. There''s too much. There are too many paths. None of them are... oh my god, I''m-" Sara rushed to the outer wall and vomited over the side, then collapsed in a heap. Susan rushed over and started healing her stomach, but quickly moved to her head. She spoke soft, calming words as she worked. Marlene bit her lip and looked between Sara and the confused masses now inside of Sanctuary. Reid moved to position himself between Sara and the inside of their settlement. James followed suit, and Marlene stepped in as well to form a makeshift wall of bodies in front of Sara. It took half a minute for Sara to calm down enough to continue. "I- I''m feeling a different path every time I breathe. Every time I think, or I want something. We can''t... we can''t get away, and I don''t know where to put people, and I don''t know what to do. It''s all wrong. Every path is the wrong one. None of them overlap. There''s so much. Oh god, there''s so much. I can''t - mom, there are too many decisions. Too many options. I can''t sort through them all. I can''t keep them separate. They''re all overlapping and... and I don''t know how to stop this. I can''t stop this." Susan shushed her daughter, and continued healing. Green light glowed and pulsed. Sara waved one hand around in the air, and more quest details were shown to those standing above her. Quest Sub-Objectives: 1. Prevent Losses: 0 2. Defeat the Crimson Titan: ( 0 / 1 ) 3. Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Guardians: ( 0 / 3 ) 4. Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Elites: ( 0 / 10 ) 5. Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Minions: ( 0 / 2,106 ) 6. (Optional) Sue for peace. 7. (Optional) Negotiate with the enemy. "We can''t negotiate. There''s no room for peace. I checked. There''s nothing... there''s nothing there when I want to kill the Crimson Titan. Mom, I don''t know what to do. I... I don''t even know how to save you and dad. Nothing''s clear." Susan''s healing pulsed again, and Sara slumped down on the wall. Reid, Marlene, and James rushed over, but Susan waved them off. "I put her into a restful state. Wasn''t sure if it was going to work, but I''m glad it did. Her skill was working overtime, Reid, just like when you half-destroyed your internal energy landscape. She was about to burn out. She would''ve if I didn''t knock her out." James looked around them. "So, what do we do now?" Reid took a long look at his daughter. Her words echoed in his mind. She couldn''t save Susan, or him. People were going to die. The mob walked back from the invisible wall. An enemy was being teleported to Sanctuary. It was, most likely, an overwhelming force of Salamanders. They would be powerful. And Sanctuary was trapped. They might all be doomed. Reid rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat. The group looked at him. "Easy. We fight." CH 50: Ready for Battle Sanctuary''s people couldn''t leave. They couldn''t run. But they could prepare. The ''ports - Reid was not a fan of the nickname that had already spread throughout Sanctuary - from the other beacons were sorted into groups within the first two hours. Those groups were either rolled into the reserve defenders, put to work on general chores and labor, or had been deemed as ''sideliners'' that would need to stay out of the fighting as much as possible. The only things that allowed the quick work were the rapid response of Sanctuary''s young military hierarchy, the ''ports current... ''natural tendency'' to follow orders, and Marlene''s identify skill. Her range with it had improved, and she quickly picked the capable out from the masses. Those with enough power or with combat skills were added to Sanctuary''s reserve fighters. Anyone generally strong or capable was put onto a work team - and they mostly moved around supplies. The rest were true refugees. They couldn''t fight, or didn''t seem able to. They might be capable of work, but didn''t seem capable of following orders or working under pressure. Those people were shuffled into temporary accommodations, fed, and clothed. Reid chose not to think about how deeply they''d be cutting into the food reserves just to respond to the new residents. The area was alive with activity. Every path and every structure seemed to have constant flows of people moving about. Reid only recognized some of them - but the new officers seemed to be everywhere. They quelled small fights, led their troops on jogging patrols of the area, and worked to integrate new fighters into their ranks - all at a lightning pace. It was a true compliment to Sara and Marlene''s system that things had gone as well as they had. But Sanctuary wasn''t equipped to truly house and handle everyone. Reid frowned and thought about his daughter. An hour into the mess, Sara woke up from Susan''s induced rest - and went right back to having issues. Susan had fairly quickly figured out that the presence of Reid - or nearly anyone else - had a negative effect on Sara''s mental state. Reid was worried about his daughter, but kept his distance. They''d never encountered a situation where Sara was trying to think about so many potential outcomes and needs at once, and she needed time to get used to processing that much information. Based on her inability to keep things straight when around others, there was a component of emotional control that also had a significant impact on what she was able to do. Understanding it didn''t make Reid feel any better. Sara''s major decisions so far boiled down to a single formation. All of Sanctuary''s people-carrying vehicles were set up in two large groups. Food and supplies were split between the two - as were defenders and the ''ports. One group sat in last stand field, pointed towards the rear gate. The other was in the area by the front gate. The idea was that there would be multiple routes for escape, depending on where the enemy was teleported to. Sanctuary''s forces would essentially be split between the two options, and whichever was better positioned could, if nothing else, get free of any overwhelming attacks. The defenders had added another dynamic, as well - rapid response units. Each group had a handful of the more reliable pickup trucks and 4-wheel-drive vehicles set up with dedicated drivers on standby. The vehicles would stay close to the main formations and the defenders, then ferry them to wherever the fighting was thickest. That way, even with the split refugees and supplies, the fighters could end up precisely where they were needed. The last piece were the mobile scouts. No one had started yet, but as they neared the enemy teleport time, defenders with good perception would take off on ATVs and dirtbikes to perform roving patrols. Their entire purpose was to ensure the enemy didn''t surprise the defenders by attacking the unmanned sections of the perimeter. It was early afternoon when Marlene came to get Reid. Sara needed to see him. # The walk over was awkward and mostly quiet, but it wasn''t nearly as bad as the destination. The room was small, but not cramped. A square table took up the majority of the space, and a large drawn map of Sanctuary sat on it. A half used eraser kept one of the corners from curling up. There was a large stain that covered part of last stand field. A cluttered mess of symbols and letters represented people, vehicles, and supplies. Another set of numbers showed where officers and their units should be. A scribble that looked like "Population" sat on the far side of the map from Reid, above four unreadable digits. Sara didn''t lift her eyes to meet Reid or Marlene when they entered. She had one hand clutching her forearm, while the other gripped the table with white knuckles. Her skin was visibly pale, and her eyes were red and puffy. Reid fought back the urge to run over and hug her. Neither of them needed Pathfinder to go haywire again - so he awkwardly and uncomfortably stayed back. Marlene looked between them, walked over to the map, and broke the silence. "Neither of you are going to like this, but you need to listen all the same. You are our strongest fighters. I''ve been identifying everyone from the other beacons. Some are good - they might be able to hold back something pretty high level - maybe a 9 or 10 all on their own. But none of them are going to be capable of fighting off anything stronger than that. Heck, they''ll probably struggle to hold bigger beasts back, let alone take them down." She gestured between Reid and Sara. "But you two are strong enough to stop or slow down just about anything I can think of. Reid, you smashed through everything the waves tried to kill us with, and I''m starting to believe nothing can stand up to you. Sara - you might not be as physically strong as your father, but you have a natural grace and ability that can probably kill anything they throw at us." She audibly sucked in a breath through her nose. "We have two groups, and two outstandingly strong individuals... I''d rather not separate you two, but... I think you understand where I''m going with this." Reid''s boosted perception had been around for a while. He''d gotten a bit better at understanding how people he didn''t know were feeling. He could pick out the best time to ask Mark for a favor. But after Sara had become Sanctuary''s leader, Marlene''s face went back to being a stoic mask that kept her emotions hidden. In this room, though, there was no mask.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Marlene stared at Sara like a mother looking at her daughter. She looked like Susan did whenever she''d have to teach Sara about one of the sad truths of the world. Marlene''s eyes longed for a simple solution to their problem that didn''t exist. Her mouth twitched with the idea of reassuring words - but couldn''t speak them. Her face carried every ounce of pain that came with knowing something bad was going to happen - and knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it. She looked caring, and helpless. She looked like she was suppressing the urge to hug Sara. His daughter had so much going for her. She was strong, and bright, and capable. But this was a shit situation, and she was overwhelmed. Throughout Marlene''s talk, she still hadn''t lifted her head from the table. Maybe Reid couldn''t reassure her here either, but he could do something else - he could lighten the load. Sara was struggling with a host of decisions, and she didn''t need to. There were other people here to carry that burden. "I think Marlene is right." The words fell out of Reid''s mouth. Marlene''s eyes went wide and thankful as he continued. "Sara should be up in the field with Marlene and most of the guards, and I can take the front gate. From the field, you''ll have a better line of sight to know what''s going on, and any changes we need to make. We''ll have walkie talkies on us to help with communication, and if we need to, either one of us can call for a retreat to regroup with the others. It''s a good plan, and it''s what we''re going to move forward with, no matter what anything else says." Sara''s eyebrow twitched at the last sentence. Marlene jumped back into the conversation. "Right. Reid and I need to work out a few more details, so Sara - why don''t you get some rest while we do? You need to eat something too, right? Here -" Marlene opened the door and waved over a guard. "Why don''t you go get something to eat, and then head to the cot we have set up for you? It''s in a quiet room." Sara took a few seconds for the words to register, then slowly rose from her seat. She shuffled over and gave Reid a quick hug, then left the room. The entire time, she hadn''t said a word. Marlene closed the door, and fell into a chair. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands and groaned. "She''s already blaming herself. Nobody''s dead yet and she''s already carrying around the guilt of not doing enough to save everyone. When it actually happens, it might break her. Too much will happen all at once. The first person''s going to die, then the second, and then it''s all going to feel like it''s gone sideways even before it actually does. She''s strong, so she''ll recover, but it''ll take time. And she''ll hate herself for the rest of her life doing it. Going through all that, this young... People aren''t supposed to need to make these kinds of decisions so young. They''re not supposed to experience this much death and uncertainty and grief. They''re not supposed to lose people. Sara will live through it, I know, but she''s not going to come out the other side the same." Reid pulled a chair out and sat on it sideways. Requiem didn''t go well with any chair that had a back to it. "Sounds like you''re speaking from personal experience." Marlene snorted, then gave Reid an appraising look. "You know, you''re not a bad father, Reid. Heck, you might even be a good one. You do like fighting too much, and you''re not always a good decision maker, but at least you try." Marlene paused, and looked at the door. "But Sara loves you. She loves you and Susan so goddamn much. Not so long ago, I thought she''d end up a better and stronger person if I could let her grow without you influencing her. That was wrong. I was wrong. She relies on you more than she lets on, even if I think she''s capable of going on by herself." Marlene leaned forward on the table and tented her hands. "She almost made me swear not to tell you this. I''m still not sure if it''s the right thing to share. But you should know. After she woke up, Sara knuckled down hard on controlling Pathfinder. She did a hell of a good job of it, too. And she started sorting out all the information and writing down all the paths. She looked at how to make specific groups live, how to escape, or win." Reid felt a cold knot form in his stomach. "She didn''t find it, Reid. She didn''t find a path where we beat the Crimson Titan. There are only options where we might survive a bit longer than others. The only ones where most of us survive are when we run and escape. But we lose people in every scenario. She doesn''t know how to save everyone. And that''s killing her." Marlene paused, and stared at Reid. "Reid, she didn''t find a scenario you escape." The knot froze completely. Then, something else flexed within him and the knot broke apart. Reid rejected the very idea of it. Predestined to die? Fuck that. Reid had navigated through the apocalypse with a stupid high chance of dying hovering above his head the entire time. He''d fought for his life, killed beasts and men, and made his way back to his daughter. If the system wanted him dead, it was going to be disappointed. Reid set his jaw. "I''m not going anywhere. No matter what Pathfinder thinks, it''s wrong. I''m going to kill the Titan, and I''m going to save as many people as I can. I''m going to keep as much weight off my daughter''s conscience as humanly possible." Marlene''s face was stern. "Don''t. Don''t make empty promises, Reid. Just because I survived it doesn''t mean Sara needs to. Losing a father... don''t make her go through that. I made you a promise to keep Sara safe and prioritize her, Reid. I promised to do that over everything else. I want you to make me a promise, right now. Promise me you''re not going to lose yourself in the fight. Promise me you''re not going to do some well-intentioned, stupid thing that ends up with you hurt, or worse. You need to be selfish for what''s coming." The chair scraped the floor as Reid stood. "I understand what you''re asking, Marlene. But I''m not your father, or whoever it was that let you down. And I''m not going to let Sara down. Now, I need to go selfishly make myself some armor, and then get some rest." # Reid wished later on that he''d put on a lopsided smile, or done something else to soften his words. Marlene was showing a human side to herself, but Reid was too angry and determined to see past his own emotions. He swore when the train of thought caused him to make an error on a pauldron. It was the last piece of armor Reid needed to finish, and then he''d finally be able to sleep. Or, rather, he''d finally be able to try and sleep. Reid wasn''t delusional. He, like everyone else, had seen the enemy forces counter. People were going to get hurt, they were going to die. Sanctuary''s preparations would help them fare better than they would otherwise, and anything Reid could do to empower himself would, likewise, increase survivability for everyone around him - and himself. Reid paused for a moment at the finished piece, then set his initials into the pauldron with large block letters. The armor was simple, thick, and hopefully effective. Reid didn''t have time to make it a growth set - and honestly didn''t know how much effort that might take. So instead, he had a series of armor pieces that looked quite a bit like a sci-fi armor suit, all blocky and thick. The most notable piece was the pauldron he''d just put lettering on. He stared at the "R.O.C.", then put a matching set of letters on the other pauldron. Reid had his weapon. He had a set of uncommon bone armor. The enemy would be here tomorrow. They would be tough. But Reid was going to win. CH 51: Enemy at the Gates Reid''s armor softly clacked against itself as he shifted Requiem to his left hand. Dew hadn''t yet burned off the grass, and it glimmered in the early light. This morning had already been difficult. Sara and Susan were together up in the field, at the command center - a square of large RVs that made up a lookout tower and HQ. Reid wouldn''t have been able to separate himself from them if he hadn''t been convinced the enemy would appear at the front gate. He wanted his wife and daughter to both be as far away from the heavy fighting as possible. Sara was doing better. She had color to her face, and did try to act more normal - but she was far from her usual self. Susan was rigid, and obviously stressed. While her role was technically healer for the field group, she promised to stick as close to Sara as possible. Reid held them both for a long, quiet while before they parted ways. Marlene and James were with them. They''d argued with Reid a bit over that placement, but he''d put his foot down on the subject. He knew Sara was supposed to be able to hold her own in a fight, but Reid wanted as many of their capable people with her and Susan as possible. Toby and a number of the Margaret survivors were with the field group as well. While that wouldn''t have been reassuring two weeks ago, Toby had become a dedicated, respectable fighter. They had 21 of Sanctuary''s 41 squads. Each consisted of ten people - one officer and a combination of at least two magic users, archers, and warriors. The final three members of each group varied. Some had even splits between the combatant types, others were magic heavy or warrior heavy. If that wasn''t enough, there were less-trained reserves and armed refugees to pull into the fight if they needed. The field group was well armed, well positioned, and should prove to be well defended. Reid''s side of things was similar. He was informally in charge, though it wasn''t system enforced. Walt was his top officer - the boy had shown an incredible mind for tactics - and he had Marysa there overseeing their core force of archers. Reid only had 20 squads to the field''s 21, but he expected himself to more than make up for the difference. He didn''t put too much stock in their reserves. Most of them were already buckled into the escape vehicles. Mark paced by for the third time. The walls were solid, but the man couldn''t stop himself from re-inspecting things. Warren had been placed with the front gate warriors, and tried to get Mark''s attention when he passed. Reid nearly fainted when he saw Mark refuse a sip from one of the flasks Warren carried on him. He was unconventionally serious, and spent more time checking the wall near the archers than he did anywhere else. Putting teenagers in their fighting forces was not something Reid liked. But they fought to be included - and Marlene had wanted to head off having a group of kids firing arrows that wasn''t worked into the command structure. At least this way, there was someone responsible for them that could call a retreat or swap them out with reserves as needed. Marysa wore a black polo shirt with white flanks. It had ''UDA Archery'' embroidered in orange on the left chest. The teens wore similar "uniforms" under their wooden armor. Others around them spanned in age from early twenties to... well, very old. Their oldest fighter was a wiry man with a cloud of perfectly white hair on his head. His gaze was hard and determined. Reid realized the rest of them were as well. They were all an entirely non-traditional group of fighters, but ready for the fight. Danny shifted uncomfortably next to Reid. The healer was responsible for keeping the front gate in the fight. He was apprehensive, but didn''t complain or try to run. Lowell stood close by. His job was still part jailer and part bodyguard to Danny. The man had shown himself to be trustworthy in Reid''s eyes, but Marlene didn''t want to chance things. Lowell was even more uncomfortable than the healer. Every few seconds, he glanced back towards the field, and ground his teeth. Reid could see the worry in his eyes, and did his best to distract the man from it. "Hey, Lowell - did you hear some kids found an old movie projector while they were moving around supplies?" The quiet man shifted focus to Reid, then quizzically cocked his head. "They think they can get it working, and there are some old films with it. Should end up being a good opportunity to take somebody on a date." Lowell''s face flushed and he stammered out a too-enthusiastic reply. "T-that''s great! Really great!" The worry was still there, under the shock and embarrassment. "You two are good together, you know. He''s gotten stronger, and good with that hammer - Toby, I mean. You don''t need to worry about him. But you do need to keep your head on yourself. Focus on the here and now. Focus on keeping yourself safe, and know that he''s going to do the same." Lowell twisted his face for a moment, then nodded. He set his eyes on the tree line. They still flicked back to the field, but it happened less often than before. Reid watched the timer tick down. Countdown to beast teleportation: 0d 0h 0m 3s... 2s... 1s... A low, reverberating noise swept in and shook everyone on the wall. Beyond the tree line, flashes of light dazzled in the morning air. Thunderclap-like rumbles echoed out from the woods. Trees shook, and a series of familiar screeches joined the growing cacophony. The lights and sounds extended in a wide arc, and continued for nearly three minutes. Reid could feel the unease growing in the troops as time ticked by. Walt''s hand rested on his radio. When the beasts appeared, they were to give a report to the other group on what they were actually facing. An unassuming man next to Walt had some inventory or accountant skill that would allow him to give precise counts of the foes they faced. Only after getting accurate numbers and a report of the beasts'' makeup would any calls on squad movements be made. Reid never got the man''s name, and decided he would be the accountant until that changed. When the lightshow finished, deep dripping-water noises echoed out - followed by the chaotic trample of thousands of moving feet. The first beast through the trees was a small, four foot tall salamander. Reid saw its orange eyes and hooked teeth, even at this distance. He remembered when one of those beasts had been a mortal danger to him.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The lone salamander looked left and right, then faced towards the trees and let out a series of water drop noises. The forest shifted, and the enemy began to emerge. A handful of the small salamanders walked forward onto the open field in front of the gates. Then three dozen. Reid lost count as the enemy numbers rose into the hundreds. The accountant blinked rapidly next to Walt, and stammered out a count once the enemy group stopped moving "O...one-thousand, five-hundred-twenty-one salamanders!" Reid frowned. That was an immense number - and the sheer mass of the group was intimidating. But - the quest sub objectives had made the counts clear. There should be more of the regular forces. They could be hiding, waiting for stealth strikes - or they might be trying to encircle Sanctuary to get to the back gate. Even at low levels, having that many beasts surprise their forces would end poorly. They needed to know where the rest of the general forces were. Reid''s worry was answered moments later. Familiar forms emerged from the woods behind the weaker salamanders. Each one was eight feet tall, with glowing orange eyes and light aquamarine claws. Reid wished these variants would be one of the strongest things they''d need to fight. He''d hoped they would be the ''elites'' mentioned in the quest''s sub-objectives. But they kept appearing. Reid swore internally when his count of the things exceeded ten. Ten turned to dozens, then hundreds. Reid caught himself frowning. He''d taken out 30 of the level 10-12 variants during Sanctuary''s final defense wave. But he''d done it in a semi-controlled environment, and there had been no one else around him to defend at the time. With this many of the things, he couldn''t even occupy all of their attention. He shifted his eyes to the accountant. The man was starting to shake. "F-f-f-five-hundred-eighty-five of the big ones!" Reid felt his palms start to sweat. The high level variants were part of the Crimson Titan''s regular forces. Sanctuary only had a handful of people outside of himself and Sara that he trusted to put down a level 10 in a fair fight. Maybe three dozen or so that could properly hold one up and allow someone else to land a kill. Ten of those, coupled with the rest of the small salamanders would''ve been a tough fight. Realization started to sink deeper into Reid. His eyes passed over the squads on the wall. He couldn''t fight every enemy, which meant others on this wall needed to. And he didn''t like their chances. More movement snapped Reid''s focus back to the tree line. A smaller number of new bodies emerged, taller than the level 10s. They had longer, brighter versions of the level 10''s aquamarine crystal claws. A pair of parallel aquamarine crystalline ridges ran along each one from snout to the back of their necks. The ridges were barbed with points of varying size, and they made the salamanders look like they were sporting dual-mohawks. Reid put them at 12 feet tall, or just under. Reid caught himself in another frown, and forced it off his face. The last thing people needed to see right now was their strongest fighter questioning their ability to win this fight. Salamander crystal was notoriously tough. Even Reid''s bone weapons couldn''t punch through the crystal claws they''d collected from the level 12s. Which meant getting a kill shot on the elites would require aiming around the ridges to get to the skull. Reid worried on his precision. The elites formed a horseshoe shaped formation like a pocket in the other salamander''s ranks, then vocalized at the tree line. Massive, heavy footsteps slowly rumbled out and shook the trees. Three figures came out of the woods first. They were another head taller than the elites. Where the elites sported dual mohawks, these - the guardians, Reid realized - had larger crystalline growths that nearly covered the entire top of their skulls. They were essentially wearing impenetrable helmets. Reid swore aloud. He''d need to kill the guardians by going through the eye - or striking up at the brain from the bottom of their jaws. The guardian''s claws pulsed with energy and light, and curved crystalline blades grew out of their forearms and pointed towards their elbows. Reid imagined fighting them. Even a missed claw strike would be deadly if one of those things swept its arm out afterwards. And the arms would be harder to remove. And he''d need to get in close for an uppercut to the brain. Or he''d need to be incredibly accurate to send a shot through their eyes. They would be damn tough to put down. Reid forced himself to calm down. He still hadn''t seen everything this enemy force had to offer. The ground continued to shake. The final figure loomed over all of its brethren as it emerged into the open. It stood as tall and as wide as a house. Where the other salamander''s eyes glowed, the Crimson Titan''s burned like swirling lava. Its crimson red skin was dotted with sparkling flecks instead of the usual black spots. Its arms ended in wicked, glowing aquamarine claws that were at least four feet long. A crown of glowing crystal spikes adorned its head. Reid squared his jaw. He''d need to bury Requiem to its grip to even have a chance at hitting the Crimson Titan''s brain. The creature opened a terrifyingly large maw filled with hooked teeth the size of Reid''s arm. It growled once, then let out a spine-shaking screech. Reid felt it prick his ethereal self as it washed over him - and for the first time since he''d gotten his resistance, Reid felt an external skill affect him. Notifications flashed. He stilled involuntarily for half a second, then stumbled as he felt himself again. All the defenders around him was still frozen - as were the low leveled salamanders. Only the elites, guardians, and Crimson Titan itself were still moving. Reid could''ve sworn it stared at him. The walkie talkie squawked in Walt''s hand. That was good information. At least they knew the forces in the field were out of this thing''s range. Reid checked his notifications. WARNING! You have been paralyzed for 5 seconds by the Crimson Titan''s Roar. WARNING! This creature exceeds your level by a wide margin. Resistances and skills will be less effective against this creature. NOTICE: You have resisted this skill. Paralyze effect reduced to 0.5 seconds. NOTICE: Early hostilities detected in enemy force. Punitive action taken. Cooldown timer for [Crimson Titan]''s skill, [Paralyzing Roar], has been tripled. Five seconds. That was hellishly overpowered. Even if it froze the Titan''s forces, some of them would still be able to move - and it would be a death sentence for anyone close to those elites. Hell, even if people weren''t in the fight, freezing up for 5 seconds at the wheel of a vehicle would make the driver crash. Reid hoped the cooldown for the skill was measured in hours. Those around him regained themselves, and launched into action. Information was exchanged. Reserves were called forward as the vehicles were ordered to head back towards the rear gate. The salamanders'' emergence from the tree line had cost them precious minutes they couldn''t afford to waste. Everyone knew the simple truth. As soon as the invisible wall was down, they needed to run. Reid wrung his hands around Requiem''s grip, then shouted his own orders. "All rapid transports, back up to one of the squads on the wall! I want everyone here able to jump down and drive away as soon as things start - get every engine running five minutes before that timer expires. Any extra hands, help get the RVs turned around. I don''t care if you need to drive backwards through the campground, just get moving. Movement by the tree line caught Reid''s eye. Sanctuary wasn''t the only side making final preparations. The salamanders had started to move. One of the elites let out a series of grunts, and two small salamanders charged forwards until they hit the invisible wall. The elite grunted again, and a new pair flew into the invisible shield. Reid checked the timer. Hostilities will begin in 0d 0h 52m 19s... They had a long hour ahead of them. CH 52: Hourglass Extra note here for my audio-only readers. Please check out the author''s note at the end of the chapter!
-{///} Finola {///}- Finola bit her nails. The report on her desk was impossible to misinterpret. Sanctuary''s pending quest had finally been assigned. They''d had another, impossible difficulty increase. They had a prodigy that hadn''t yet gone to the damn beacon to awaken themselves. They had a Lord Candidate that was a potential progenitor in her own right. Finola was happy about the Lord Candidate, at least. This Sara Calderwall had been either bright or skilled enough to negotiate a private contract with the consortium - predicated on her becoming a lord. And the young woman had already taken her first steps on that path to consolidate power. She''d even implemented a contract with one of her own compatriots that made the hair on the back of Finola''s neck curl. It made the competitive part of her brain itch for a chance to negotiate head-to-head with the young prodigy. Sara was a true powerhouse in the making. Her level growth, though inconsistent, was phenomenal. Her skill was even more impressive. Finola had browsed the records, and found no real mention of Pathfinder anywhere. If Sara rose to power with it, she would be the first to do so. It was every other bit of news that had Finola chewing on her fingertips. The self-affixation prodigy not fully awakening was an issue. If they were stuck on the planet while everyone else attended the tutorial, questions would inevitably come. Investigations might start, and the burnout beacons could be discovered. This person was a potential boon if they would just go and get themselves awakened. If they didn''t... Finola and everyone else would have to ask why. And then heads would roll. But the worst news of all was still developing. After the last difficulty increase, Sanctuary''s next quest was pending for a long time. Too long. Pending quests only happened in the very rare cases when the system needed more time to process variables, when it was locally overloaded with other events, or when it was expending power to ensure a complex set of variables were ready before it moved a quest line forward. Earth didn''t have enough going on to overload it, nor did it or the local area have anything that would create a high-variable situation. The assigned quest confirmed her suspicion. The tutorial could carry people through quite a bit of G grade. During that time, they''d grow in power while the beast zones on their planet evolved into proper domains. Once the tutorial finished, they''d be given a domain target. Conquering that target would solidify a group''s position and prove their power. Domain wars were as bog-standard as the tutorial itself - like power consolidation wars, or exo-solar beast invasions, or the cosmic conflict debut - it was just something that happened to newly awakened planets the same way, every time. It was simple, established fact. Event quests were introduced in the tutorial, and people only got their first real taste of them once a tutorial was complete. Domain quests... they were impossible to even have prior to a tutorial. The creatures one needed to kill to complete those quests were often at the peak of G grade. And a domain couldn''t be fully established by beasts unless people weren''t around. There was simply no way for that challenge to happen naturally. To make this insanity possible, Finola suspected the system had forcibly increased the power given to this Crimson Titan and all of its forces. Based on the outlandish nature of the situation and the time it took the system to empower their foes... she didn''t like the odds of the humans winning this fight. Finola had an option to save her investment in Earth - to keep Sara Calderwall from an early death. An interdiction was hellishly expensive - so much so that the consortium would need to skip an awakening cycle to afford it. But it was possible, and there was a precedent for using an interdiction to salvage investments when situations had gone awry. Loz''ar''s grandfather had used one to stop a colony of magma wurms from setting off a planet-killing caldera eruption. And that wasn''t even for a potential progenitor. She could do it. But using the interdiction would put everything on Earth and everything with Sanctuary into an even brighter light. There would be an executive review of her actions, and no way to hide her beacon tampering. Feigning ignorance and showing enough involvement to call for an interdiction would be impossible opposites. She wanted to scream. Loz''ar was a pragmatist at heart. He would logically agree with her decision to call for the interdiction. He may even support the idea of the beacon burnouts. But she''d kept everything until now a secret from him - and that he would not abide. Finola would lose her position. She''d be fined by the consortium - or worse. She looked through Earth''s historic projections. The planet''s sapient species hadn''t even been around as long as she''d been working for Loz''ar - and she would lose all of that work if she saved them. Earth was rich with opportunity, balanced on the edge of a knife. Finola''s hand hovered over the request. One tap. She could make one small motion that would ensure the survival of the potential progenitor, and the prodigy, and maybe even the planet. The projected price was immensely steep. It could take tens of thousands of years to recoup the costs. But the effect would be immediate - the system acted near-instantaneously when an interdiction request was sent. It would all be done in a flash. And so would her career. She angrily jabbed her hand out to close the request - then brought up another screen. Saving Sanctuary and Earth wasn''t the only option. Finola ignored the half measures and navigated to the one that mattered - slagging the planet. She''d argued against it, of course - but calling for it now would cover up evidence of the beacon burnout. It would ensure she wasn''t investigated. Earth would be seen as a bad investment, a bad planet. But one bad planet over a record of hundreds was a fluke. An acceptable loss. She made herself a promise. Finola was going to watch this battle closely. She was going to pay the cost of real-time quest data until it was done. And if Sara and Sanctuary looked like they were going to lose or flee - Finola would turn the Earth to glass.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.
+ Reid + Hostilities will begin in 0d 0h 39m 12s... Walt sprinted over to Reid with the walkie talkie outstretched in his hand. "Marlene needed to talk to you." The plastic brick clicked with static as Reid thumbed the button. "Marlene, it''s Reid. What''s up?" Reid could hear a commotion in the background when the speaker flicked on. "We''re going to be delayed here, Reid. We gave the damn ''ports too much rope. They stole two vans and crashed them into the barrier. Other drivers tried to follow them out. It''s a mess back here, like a train crash. Walt said the salamanders are probing the barrier by you. If they start moving towards us, I need you to find a way - a SAFE way - to keep them focused on you. At least till we can get things righted here. People see them now, they''re going to panic and make things even harder to untangle." Reid watched another pair of salamanders crash into the barrier. "Copy. How''s Sara?" "Are you by yourself?" Reid suppressed the urge to run back to his daughter. "Hang on." He hopped down from the wall and walked away from the bustling crowd. Despite the time they''d already had, the group had been slow to move the vehicles and refugees over to the rear gate. It gave Reid a new appreciation for the drills Marlene had set up for everyone. If it was just Sanctuary, they could''ve been ready and waiting at the other side of the settlement by now. Reid turned down the volume. "I''m alone. What''s wrong?" "She''s been calm, Reid. And quiet. Like she''s already started to give up. I don''t like it. I''m keeping an eye on her, but Reid - the contract is going to stop me from intervening if she needs it. I won''t be able to tell her no. I can tell you if something happens, but that''s about it." The plastic shell on the walkie talkie cracked. Reid forced himself to relax his grip. "Understood." # To the right of the gate, Marysa planted colored flags in the ground. Reid wasn''t keen on the idea of anyone being out in front of the wall, but the woman was insistent. The flags were just bits of rags on metal stakes, and she was using them to mark lethal distance for their archers. White showed where someone might be able to get an eye socket kill. Brown was bodkin penetration range. And yellow, orange, and red showed the effective distances for broadheads. Reid thought they were all far too close to the wall. They had other ranged weapons, of course. Mark had a pile of throwing spears - enough to share. Many of the squads had long guns scavenged from the armory or from the corpses of Bertrand''s army - and they''d use those at the longest ranges once fighting started. But the arrows were the only ranged weapons that could reliably punch through skulls. Everything else needed the luck it would take to land a hit through an eye. Marysa finished up her work, and started back towards the gate. Reid watched an elite track her. When she climbed the ladder back up over the wall - the gate wasn''t opening for anyone, on Reid''s orders - the elite vocalized a series of water pops. It emerged from the larger group with at least fifty of the regulars following behind. The elite kept eyes on the gate, and stalked around the edge of the barrier. It moved slowly, cautiously- in the direction of Sara and the rear gate. Oh fuck. The salamanders had shown rudimentary intelligence, and watching Marysa Enter the gate had made them focus on finding their own way around. Or they were fixated on Marysa because she''d moved in front of them, and needed another person to distract them away from Sanctuary''s rear. Reid hoped it was the latter. Reid swore out loud. ¡°Get me a quad.¡± The ATV roared as Reid thumbed the throttle. He made sure the thing still wasn''t in gear and let go of the clutch. Behind him, Sanctuary defenders stared out from the wall. Short ahead, a group of low leveled salamanders were flinging themselves against the barrier. Reid''s hunch had thankfully worked. Riding out to the group that was slowly starting to circle them, then moving back towards the salamander main group managed to take the flanking group''s attention and got them to re-join the main salamander forces. Reid let go of the throttle and walked away from the still-running ATV. The salamanders followed Reid and ignored the noisy engine. Reid swore. Best case scenario was that they''d pay attention to the noisy thing and allow him to retreat. Less best case scenario was that he stayed by the barrier, and kept their attention himself. The timer ticked down. A walkie talkie squawked at his waist. ¡°It''s only part working, Walt. I need to stay here for a bit or they''re going to get distracted and try to circle around again. Keep everyone else up top.¡° He got his affirmation, and turned back to the rippling barrier ahead. Dozens of Teeth and claws tried to tear into the invisible wall. To get to him. Reid could almost see it. Those same features grappling for Sanctuary''s defenders. Tearing apart the teenagers holding bows. Seeking out Sara and Susan. The fight was inevitable. The encirclement, he could prevent. Reid planted Requiem in the ground, and cut the ATV''s engine. He''d start it back up when things got closer to the start. Hostilities will begin in 0d 0h 11m 02s... 10 more minutes, and the barrier would drop. He could wait for that, then get back to the walls. He could wait. # At the four minute mark, something truly interesting happened. The Crimson titan let out a series of guttural sounds, and an elite trudged forward through the smaller salamanders. It stopped just in front of the barrier, and stared Reid down. The elite vocalized, and all the salamanders near the wall retreated back to the group. Did the thing want to fight him in single combat? It definitely seemed that way. Fuck it, worth a try. At the one minute mark, Reid notified Walt of his new intention, then switched off the walkie talkie and put it on the ATV. He started it back up and let it idle. He took a quick look at his status for the first time in a while.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 12 Health: 350/ 350 Experience: 84,119 / 102,400 STATS: Constitution: 35 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 6 Perception: 11 Power: 35 Control: 70 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Hardening [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Petrification [Rare] (CORRUPTED) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR ENHANCEMENTS: Osteal Smithing Journeyman (Calcification) RESISTANCES: Substances - Sedatives Active Skill Effects- All RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE ???: UNAVAILABLE
His body tingled in anticipation. He wasn''t sure how far the creature¡¯s logic went, but every salamander save for the Elite was still back with the rest of the line. The ATV was ready if he''d gotten it wrong. Reid shifted his grip and held the mace like a sledgehammer. Requiem had killed level 12s back when it was still a shovel. Reid craned his neck up to face the elite. It was time to see what it was capable of now. 2s¡­ 1s¡­ 0 The opaque wall shimmered out of existence. And the crimson titan roared. CH 53: Single Combat The barrier shimmered and disappeared. For a moment, all was quiet. Reid''s pulse quickened, and the sound of his own breathing echoed in his helmet. The salamander eyed the spot where the wall once was, and took a cautious step forward. Reid had to raise his head to look up at it. Its eyes burned with ferocity, but it continued a slow advance until it was only a few yards away. It stilled, then lowered its arms to its sides. Movement shuffled in the smaller salamander groups, then one started to run forward. A roar echoed out from the Crimson Titan. It wasn''t a skill, but all movement in the smaller beasts halted. The elite in front of Reid turned at the ones that had broken from the group and screeched. Elites from the main force stalked forward to the still-motionless salamanders that had attempted to run forward - and promptly lopped off their heads. Reid stared on as they killed their own forces for breaking ranks. When the small runners were all dead, the elites moved back to their positions in the mass of red. The Crimson Titan let out a few loud popping noises, and Reid''s elite turned back to face him, arms still hung down at its sides. Holy shit. I guess it is single combat they want. Reid suddenly realized he was once again getting away with doing something quite dumb and reckless. He stood in front of an army of beasts, ready to face down one of its most powerful members because he assumed they - the beasts - wanted a duel. They could obviously communicate with their brethren. Reid had seen it in the valley where he fought his first level 10. The Titan''s army showcased more of that understanding with their work probing the shield, and responding to the calls from the high-leveled beasts. But he had no reason to truly believe their societal structure or communications were evolved enough to let a contest of single combat take place. It was an insane idea - and also somehow correct. The elite lowered its head and flashed a mouth full of hooked teeth, then raised its claws. Reid mirrored with a bow and a smile. With both hands in an iron grip on his weapon, Reid pushed off the ground. The earth compacted underneath his feet as he launched into the air and swung his mace at the side of the beast''s skull. Requiem sung as it split the air. The elite managed to raise an arm up to block the blow - and Reid drew first blood. The center point of a flange sunk deep into the arm with barely a hint of resistance. Another flange blade followed and carved a second channel into the salamander''s appendage as Requiem''s mass and Reid''s strike propelled it through flesh, muscle, and bone. It tore apart the Salamander''s entire arm with vicious, efficient brutality - and still had some momentum when it came out the other side. The ragged, bloody appendage fell to the dirt as Reid and the salamander both jumped back from one another. Hell yeah. Hitting Mark''s wooden dummies couldn''t compare to the feeling of slamming Requiem into living flesh. The weight of the impact and the mild resistance as it pulverized through the salamander sent a shiver of excitement down Reid''s spine. He flexed his hands around the weapon. With the beast down to one arm, Reid could more easily try to take out a leg next, then use those two injuries to open up a killing blow. The thing was quick, and it would heal if left alone, but Reid had been fighting salamanders for a long time. Bigger and quicker versions of the beasts weren''t going to doom him - especially because Reid outmatched it enough with his own speed that he could control the flow of the fight. And, if- A bright blue glow on the elite''s stump interrupted Reid''s train of thought. Reid instinctively moved back and got ready to block. The stump pulsed five times over the course of a few seconds, then let off a final blinding blue flash. Reid shielded his eyes with a hand. The elite screeched as the light and energy flared. The thing''s missing arm rapidly regenerated out from the stump. In less than a second, the entire arm and claws were completely regrown. "Fuck, that''s new." The beast flexed its freshly regrown claws, screeched, and charged at Reid. The word ''unfair'' came to mind. It was unfair that Sanctuary had been pitted against so many salamanders for this fight. It was unfair that the salamanders were worth less xp than people. And it was immensely unfair that the already-regenerating, kill-them-with-zombie-rules asshole lizards now had a rapid regeneration skill. The fresh claws raked down at Reid as the elite sent out a flurry of strikes. They dug deep gouges into the earth and kicked grass and dirt around the area. A clump managed to make it through the openings on Reid''s helmet and into his mouth. He spat it out, and sprinted forward. The creature swung out with a claw, but Reid slid sideways to avoid it. It missed him by inches - and that was enough. Reid gripped Requiem like a spear and thrust straight up at the salamander''s chest. The top spike plunged deep and the flanged blades followed. They tore six new holes in the beast, and the force behind the blow carried the loosened gore and viscera past the salamander''s spine. Requiem shot out through the salamander''s back, and gore came with it like a confetti cannon that stained the grass red. More flesh tore away in red ribbons when Reid pulled Requiem back through the salamander''s chest. An unidentified organ fell onto his shoulder with a wet plop, then tumbled to the dirt. Reid dodged out the way of another claw raking through the ground. The beast jumped back after Reid did, and then its chest started to glow with aquamarine light. "Come on, where''s the cooldown?!" Reid shouted to the universe. Skills should be balanced, somehow. Even Sara''s Pathfinder had shown its cracks recently. So something like rapid regeneration had to have a flaw. It should''ve had a massive timer related to the frequency of use. Something to keep the damn beasts in check. Reid kicked off and launched himself forward as he complained.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Reid noticed it mid leap, when the final bright flash nearly blinded him. The salamander wasn''t moving. It hadn''t budged an inch since the first blue flash in the regeneration sequence. But as soon as the final flash faded - before the chest had even finished regrowing - the elite charged him again. That would be a decent trade off, he thought. If the beasts were immobile while they rapidly regenerated, they would be easy targets for other strikes. Killing strikes. Reid readied himself to dodge the claws. He bent at the knees, and shifted Requiem into his right hand. He ducked away from the first sweep of its left claw, then jumped up and over an attempted tail whip. The beast had severely underestimated Reid''s speed. It was still wheeling back to face him when his feet hit the ground, and he lunged forward. His left hand grabbed the bottom of Requiem''s grip, and Reid smashed his mace into the back of the elite''s torso. Ribs cracked like toothpicks as the mace opened a large, deep rend in the elite''s midsection. The creature let out a pained screech and tried to create distance. Not this time. Reid advanced, and the salamander jumped back again. It paused and looked at him, then took another step back. Reid matched it. The elite let out a low, popping gurgle, and raised its claws up around its shoulders. They faced outward in an obvious attempt to stop Reid from closing in and smashing the thing with his mace again. The claws were technically in the way, but didn''t pose much of a threat if they were stationary. Reid took his first step forward just as the salamander''s torso started to glow. He closed half the distance before the first pulse of light. He was in the air before the second. The creature had made a few mistakes. First, it stopped to heal itself. Reid had fought enough salamanders to know they were generally fine with a bit of time to recover. The thing probably didn''t ''need'' to heal, even if Reid had hit something important. Second, it left a gap between its claws directly in front of itself. It was wide enough for Reid to fit through. And last, it didn''t put its hands high enough to properly protect its head. Reid contorted his body as he sailed up and through the opening. His arms flexed and elbows bent as Requiem flew out in a baseball-batter''s swing. The mace impacted the side of the salamander''s head, which crumbled under the force of the blow like a crash test video. Ridges didn''t mean shit if they only protected the top of the skull. Requiem shoved one cheek into the other, and pancaked the thing''s brain on the way. A shower of compressed gore sailed up and out of the elite''s eye socket before it, too, was deformed by the sidelong swipe. Reid kicked off the salamander''s neck and landed in a decidedly non-graceful manner - but far enough away that the thing''s claws didn''t hit him as it fell to the ground. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 18. Bonus Experience Awarded. Well, fuck me. Reid took a moment to get his breathing back to normal, and looked down at himself. Despite its size advantage, the elite hadn''t put a single claw on him - or his armor. Its skull had absolutely shattered with the final impact, and he saw what he hoped was unease and reluctance in the other elites back in the Titan''s forces. A few of the smaller salamanders screeched, but were again silenced by the Titan. It tilted its head slightly at Reid, then turned right to one of the guardians and let out a series of water drop pops. Alright then. If a guardian is next, maybe I''ll fight the crimson Titan after that? I kill one elite, one guardian, and then the boss. Would the rest flee after that? Do they become property of Sanctuary? Whatever the outcome, Reid fighting any of the things in a one-on-one reduced their number without putting anyone else in danger. If Reid had to, he''d marathon his way through their entire army in honor duels. He could keep fighting for a while like this, so long as he kept a sense of his state of endurance. But... that was highly unlikely. He couldn''t be sure the guardian coming forward now was going to do the same thing as the elite. And he had no idea how the army would behave. They''d already broken ranks once. He took a few steps back towards the ATV. It still idled, waiting for him to return to it. Reid didn''t want to have to run. The lumbering form of the guardian gave a meaningful glance to the elite''s broken skull as it walked towards Reid. Now that it was closer, Reid could see more detail on the beast. The crystalline growths on its head did have a few patches of skin exposed, but none were really large enough to put a weapon through. Getting the thing through its eye socket was still the better option. Reid craned his neck. Or he could get the brain from underneath. It would be easy to stab up into the thing with its height difference, as long as he could avoid damage from the claws. The guardian let out a low hissing sound, dropped its arms, and then bared its teeth while bowing its head. Just like the last one, Reid thought. He again mirrored the odd movement, and readied himself. He wanted to see what this one woul- The salamander dropped its front half to the ground and flew forward using its claws as leverage. Reid did what anyone would do when a giant salamander with massive aquamarine claws came at you low - he jumped. As Reid (barely) cleared the claw''s reach, he whipped Requiem down at the guardian. It slammed into the back of the salamander''s head - and Requiem impacted the crystal growths with a disconcerting crack. His mace skittered down off the aquamarine crystals, and bit down into the guardian''s neck. The beast flinched up in response, then dropped low. Reid found himself bounced higher in the air, and he landed on his ass. He gave Requiem a glance as he rose to his feet. A hairline fracture was visible in one of the flanged blades. Reid frowned at the guardian. He sprinted forward, mace at the ready, and skidded to a stop when a quick strike came in from the side. Reid tried to spin out of the way, but the tip of a claw caught on his greaves and sent him sprawling to the ground. He managed to get back on his feet, but frowned at a gash the strike had left in his bone armor. It was good that it could deflect blows, but Reid wanted to limit damage. He needed to have high endurance and longevity here to ride out the duels as long as possible. He needed to dodge as much as possible, and end things with as few strikes as he could manage. Reid needed another decisive victory. He repeated the same move, and jumped back without spinning this time as the salamander swept in with a clawed strike. The claws split the air in front of him, and Reid used the opening to bring Requiem over his head and slam it down into the salamander''s forearm. It sunk in, down, and cracked through the salamander''s bone. Reid was already getting angry at the guardian for cracking his weapon, and it felt good to have Requiem mangle the thing''s arm. Satisfied with the damaged appendage, Reid started to jump back from the creature''s reach. It was then he realized he''d made a mistake. The salamander hadn''t put everything into its first swing. It was bait. The arm was a sacrifice. The guardian''s other arm - and more importantly, claws - closed in from Reid''s left. Reid was airborne. He couldn''t do much to dodge, and putting Requiem in front of the claws seemed like a good way to get another crack in his mace. Reid pulled his left arm up to guard his face, and braced for the impact. Based on the damage the claws did to his gauntlet, he would be able to tank this blow. The armor might get cracked open, but Reid would still have enough protection and mobility to make the guardian pay for the strike. He''d already planned out his next actions when the claws started to glow. Aquamarine light filled the crystal, and the speed of the salamander''s strike doubled. Oh, fuck. Reid braced for the impact. CH 54: Disarmed The salamander''s skill-empowered strike slammed into Reid like a freight train. Two claws split straight through his bone armor gauntlet, and the third carved into his lower torso. Everything parted in their wake. The claws bit into Reid''s skin, then muscles, and through his bones. The force of the blow spun Reid in a circle, and he watched his hand and forearm fly off in different directions. They''d been separated by impossibly clean cuts, and left Reid with only a few inches of his arm past his left elbow. That wound, and the gouge in his torso were both leaking blood. He forced himself to concentrate through the pain, and planted a foot that slowed him down enough to hit the ground with his knees. He flexed his core to stop his body''s leftover momentum, and nearly doubled over in pain when the split muscles on his left side tried to tighten. Reid didn''t have time for pain - nor any battlefield healing. The guardian that did this was still close by. Reid forced himself to his feet and took a half step to face the guardian. Reid surveyed the creature for a moment, and hoped he read things right. Just like the rapid regeneration, this new slashing skill looked like it had a trade-off. The guardian''s arm was moving much slower than it had at the beginning of the fight. If Reid was right, the thing''s arm was suffering from a debuff after the attack that slowed movement speed. Between that and the beast''s mangled arm it had sacrificed to land the attack, Reid technically had the advantage. But a debuff would wear off. If he waited to see the attack again to confirm its effects or the timing, he might not live through the fight. He could run. The salamander was slower, and Reid could probably make it to the safety of the wall. Survival was a smart play, after all. If he attacked, and the salamander''s debuff timed out while he did - he might not make it out of the fight. The unknown was a promise of risk. Reid was hurt. Missing an arm. Fighting a beast that was well above his level - and losing, by most measures. He was also furious with the beast. Reid roughly yanked the skill thread for strengthening and forced himself to maintain control amidst the sudden wave of rage. He pushed the power into his legs and his right arm, and leapt forward. Reid''s muscles burned as Requiem rocketed into the salamander''s lower jaw and pierced its tongue. It flew up with the speed boost Reid should''ve been using from the start of the fight. Endurance was a fucking child''s dream. He hadn''t need to pace himself for future fights. He''d needed power, now, and he paid the price for not putting in his all. Requiem pulped the salamander''s internals and slammed hard into the underside of the crystal growth on top of its skull. A crack reverberated through Requiem and down Reid''s right arm as the kill notification popped into view. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 21. Bonus experience awarded. Reid ripped Requiem back out of the salamander''s head. The top spike had broken off, leaving only a stubby shard in its place. Two flanges were missing their top points. The force of the blow had been overkill, but fuck it. Reid needed decisive, and he got it. It still irked him that the crystal was stronger than his bone. Reid told himself when he was level 21, he would be able to smash through the damn crystal skulls. The guardian''s corpse hit the ground with a deep thud. Reid would be the only one taking off arms. And he''d smash through every goddamn skull of the beasts that that- A cacophony of screeches sounded out from the main salamander group, and made Reid realize he''d nearly lost his grip on the rage crashing inside him. He took a moment to quiet himself, and realized he was out of the fight. Reid couldn''t keep going as he was. He needed to heal, and he couldn''t do that directly in front of the enemy. But before that, he needed the severed pieces the guardian had removed. The wounds on his arm and torso throbbed with pain that made his vision distort. His forearm was close by, and Reid struggled a bit to get it and requiem to fit in his right hand. After a few tries, he ended up holding his forearm between his thumb and pointer fingers while the rest curled around his mace. His left hand was still stuck inside the bone gauntlet when he found it half-buried in tall grass. Reid scooped the gauntlet up with his pinkie, and looked to the salamanders. The Crimson Titan''s swirling lava eyes bored into him. Reid shifted his forearm into the crook of what was left of his left elbow, and repositioned the gauntlet and mace. His hand slipped out of the bone armor and fell into the dirt. "FUCK." Reid dropped Requiem, pulled off his helmet, and turned it upside down. He stuffed his forearm and dirty hand into the makeshift bucket. He couldn''t leave anything here. Reid needed to get back to the wall. Danny could heal him, and putting pieces back together would be significantly easier than fully regrowing a limb. He worked to get the bucket and Requiem into his right hand, and started back towards his ride. His vision shifted as he jogged towards the ATV, and Reid stumbled. He involuntarily bit down as he regained his balance, and groaned through a now-bloody tongue. Reid shoved Requiem into the front luggage bars and hopped onto the duct-taped seat of the quad. The Crimson Titan still hadn''t moved. It looked between the bodies of the elite and the guardian, then to the other guardians beside it. It let out a series of pops that were echoed by the guardians, the elites, and then down to the main forces. A large portion of the lower leveled salamanders slowly started to advance. Reid was in no condition to fight the Titan, but he was still angry. He''d won against the elite and the guardian, so the big damn lizard should''ve trotted its oversized ass out to meet him next. But no - instead it was going to sit back and send its forces forward. Maybe it was scared because Reid had killed a guardian. Maybe it never cared about the fights at all. Or maybe it had been testing Reid and he proved too weak to fight. Whatever the reason, Reid decided the big dumb lizard was a coward.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Reid dropped his helmet-bucket into his lap, and thumbed the throttle with his right hand. He leaned in with his left... SHIT. Reid didn''t have a left hand, and he was sitting on a manual quad. The right handlebar had the throttle control. The right foot peg had a brake. The left foot peg had the shifter, and the left handlebar had the clutch. Reid was one appendage short of proper operation. He glanced behind him. The salamanders were starting to jog. Reid let out a series of mumbled swears and leaned forward at an awkward angle until he could hook his elbow around the clutch. His chest pressed into the center of the handlebars, and the position left his face uncomfortably close to Requiem''s flanges. Reid pulled with his forearm, lifted his foot to shift, and let out the clutch- The ATV bogged out and died. Reid swore at himself. Simple. Standard. ''One down, four up''. The ATV had been in neutral, which was between first and second gear. By shifting up, he''d put the thing into second gear, where it bogged and died. Reid Kicked down to first gear and pulled the clutch in with his stumpy arm. He thumbed the electric start - and felt some of his tension ease when it worked. Reid looked back over his shoulder. The salamanders were only thirty feet away. He swore and jammed the throttle as he let go of the clutch. The quad''s front lifted off the ground as the engine put power to the wheels. Reid''s forward lean kept the thing from tipping over, and he let the throttle go until it bounced back down to the ground. His chin slammed into the front storage rack - and dented it. His mace looked even closer to his face, and Reid swore he could feel Requiem with his eyelash when he blinked. He painfully pulled the clutch in again, shifted up into second, and thumbed the throttle. The ATV pulled forward - this time with more speed than torque. Reid spared a glance behind himself. There was a visible division now between the group advancing, and a larger contingent that had stayed back with the Titan. Fucking coward. Some of the 8 foot salamanders were nearly within striking distance of Reid - and he wasn''t going fast enough yet to outrun them. Gunshots cracked through the air as the defenders opened fire, and bullets whizzed through the air all around him. Reid head screeching, but didn''t turn. He shifted into third gear and mashed the throttle once more. He could see the defender squads. Some of the powerful ones held bows. Many had their retorting rifles braced against the walls of the battlements. They''d chew through ammunition until the things were in bone-arrow range, then swap over. And they''d probably started shooting early to get the group off of Reid''s back. Fourth gear. A stray bullet split one of the ATV''s plastic fenders, but thankfully didn''t pop the tire. Reid hunched down further on his machine. he''d rather have a bullet hit him than damage the engine. His walkie-talkie, still clipped to the handlebars, crackled with words he couldn''t make out over the ATV''s high whine. Ahead, he saw two people lower a wooden ladder down next to the front gate. They couldn''t open the doors if they wanted to right now. Reid had them bar it shut and reinforce it after seeing where the salamanders spawned. No, teleported? Fuck. Didn''t matter. Reid didn''t have the time or free hands to climb anything. His chin bounced and put another dent in the metal. He looked between the quad and the wall. Should work. Reid shifted into 5th gear and gunned the throttle. The engine topped out, and Reid leaned back for the first time on his ride. He was done shifting. Reid gathered Requiem under his arm, and the helmet-bucket with his severed parts in his right hand. His mace''s spiraling points dug into the skin above his rips, and the inside of his bicep. They were a good idea in theory, to stop other weapons from sliding down the blade - but in practice, they''d hampered Reid more than anyone else. Reid put a knee on the quad''s seat and pushed the throttle down with his knuckles. New pain bloomed in his left stub as he used it to stabilize the steering. People on the wall had started to realize Reid wasn''t slowing down. They shouted at each other and raised the ladder, then cleared out where they figured he would hit. Reid let go of the throttle and got both feet under himself just long enough to kick off the quad''s seat. It roared into Mark''s steel-tough wooden battlements and compacted into a mangled mess of plastic and metal. Less secured pieces flew off in every direction - including a few that bounced off Reid. Reid sailed up towards the top of their improved walls. He rotated his body to prevent Requiem from catching on the wall, and for a moment, he seemed to be home free. Then his foot caught on the outer lip. Reid''s momentum halted and wood compacted under his toes. Requiem launched forward and put a hole in the bed of a pickup truck out below. Reid''s helmet - and his severed appendage pieces - flew into the rear window of an RV and shattered it. Someone screamed inside. Reid''s bare face slammed into the wooden floor, and he rolled onto his back. He felt blood flowing down one cheek. Danny crouched over him a moment later. Lowell was behind him, and Walt was behind Lowell. The boy barked orders as Reid waited for the three of them to stop spinning. "Lowell, get down there and bring back the bits that went into that RV - make sure nobody damages them. We need a quick recovery." Lowell jumped straight off the wall and landed in the dirt with a grunt. "Squad 4 - Squad 7 - any melee fighters, start moving throwables over here, NOW! Danny - heal as fast as you can. Burn yourself dry if you need to. Mark, make him a chair." Reid hadn''t noticed the woodworker was near him. "What kind?" Walt scowled. Or smiled? He was still all wavy in Reid''s vision. "Get him high enough that he can see over the wall, and make it sturdy enough that he can throw from it and not fall over." Mark''s head bobbled in understanding. Walt shouted at he other squads around them. "The salamanders are pulling back! Hit them while they retreat! Pour it on!" Danny was shaking Reid by the shoulders. Reid tried to talk, but his tongue wasn''t working right. And it was still bleeding. He murmured through the blood. "Hmmm?" "Reid, this will go faster if you''re working on yourself, too. Can you heal?" Reid swallowed blood and closed his eyes. He still felt woozy, but the effect was diminished when he pushed himself into his body. Reid started reconnecting blood vessels in his torso out of instinct, and Danny''s healing sped up the process. "Good! Good! Okay - don''t touch your arm until Lowell gets back with the rest of it." By the time Reid was finished with the immediate work to his torso, Lowell was back with his hand and forearm. Danny and Walt were arguing. "It''s a serious concussion, and it''s impacting his ability to think clearly! I''ll finish healing that, then I''ll put his arm back on!" "For god''s sake, Danny, he doesn''t need to do long division! Just get his arm on, and then you can fix his head while he throws rocks at the beasts!" Danny let out a dissatisfied grunt. "Fine, just don''t hand him any of the explosives. He could hurt himself." Reid swallowed another mouthful of blood and grinned. Explosives sounded fun. CH 55: Probing Attacks Reid''s vision was still a bit messed up, but that didn''t matter much right now. It was tough to miss. He sat in the lifeguard-style chair Mark had grown for him. It towered above the rest of the wall, and Reid had half a squad dedicated to handing him things to hurl at the enemies. With his right hand. Danny was putting his left arm back together. Reid''s torso was set, and he was mostly certain Danny had semi-secretly delayed finishing up on his arm to turn what had been a debilitating concussion into a ''mild'' one. He still felt... off. Like he was just a bit silly. Reid whipped a handful of mandarin-orange-sized rocks out at the attacking salamander group, and watched two kill notifications pop into view. He was up to twenty kills so far, but nothing he took down was higher than level nine. Danny shouted at Reid''s helpers over the screeches, gunfire, and other screams while Reid lifted up his next projectile. "No! I told you, no explosives! Not yet!" Someone tried to yank the thing out of Reid''s hand, but he didn''t let them. It looked magnificent - like a bunch of bananas, but where the bananas were grenades, and the stem was a string that would pull out every pin at once. Reid yanked it out with his teeth and hurled the grenade-bundle out at the enemy. He got one notification from an impact kill. Then the grenades exploded. Another fourteen notifications flew by. Five of them were higher levels, but still in the single digits. Reid bent his head sideways towards the helpers. "I want another one." Danny pointed at Reid with a finger. "Reid, no. You have to wait until I say it''s okay before you do that again. You could hurt yourself." Reid nodded, and aimed a large rock at one of the eight-foot salamanders. It sailed over the thing''s head and turned a line of three single-digit-leveled beasts into pink mist. The ones that didn''t die writhed on the ground. Walt''s walkie talkie squawked nearby. "No Susan, he''s not ready for transport. He''s still healing, and we shouldn''t move him even when he''s ready. I think the big ones are scared of him. They''ve just been probing our defenses for the last fifteen minutes by rushing in and running away, and they''re steering clear of where he''s sitting. He moves, they''ll actually hit the wall and we might start losing people. I want to continue like this as long as they let us." Squawk-crackle-crack. "Marlene, you shouldn''t. The last transport just got out of here. Let them get the personnel and supplies over to you before you try sending anything or anyone back through." Crack-crackle-crack-wah-wi? "A few boxes left for long gun ammo, and we''re using those sparingly for our sharpshooters. Almost everyone else already swapped over to arrows. I''d say those are about ten percent down." Crackle-wah-crack-crack? "Mitchell thinks we''ve gotten about two dozen of the 10-12s out of the total so far. The other 115 or so kills are the little ones. Reid did confirm the rapid regeneration and the glowing claws were both new skills. So yeah, if one of the bigger ones gets to the wall, we''re going to be in trouble." Crackle crack? Walt looked at Reid. "He''ll be fine. He-" Another grenade exploded out in the salamanders. Two kill notifications flashed by. "Reid! What did I just say? No more grenades until I finish working on your concussion!" Danny admonished at the top of his lungs. Crackle? Wah? Crack squawk crackle!? "Mild concussion, Susan. He''s fine. Still knows what he''s doing. And he... doesn''t have time to talk right now." Another explosion sounded in the distance. Reid let out a giggle. Danny groaned. # # The last transport had left ten minutes ago. Reid had almost-full use of his left arm back, and Danny had finished healing his head after confirming Reid could move his fingers. Reid hadn''t really taken it in while he was concussed, but the man''s sudden assertiveness was a happy surprise. Whether it stemmed from his work with Marysa, or because he saw Reid as a patient he needed to heal, Reid was glad to see him standing up for himself and voicing his opinions. Reid was not impressed that Walt had chosen to prioritize his ability to throw rocks over his ability to think clearly, but... he couldn''t argue the results. Reid had killed another 15 of the lizards, and his XP was getting some notable gains. The progress was showing in the quest''s sub-objectives, too. Quest Sub-Objectives: * Prevent Losses: 10 * Defeat the Crimson Titan: ( 0 / 1 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Guardians: ( 1 / 3 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Elites: ( 1 / 10 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Minions: ( 172 / 2,106 ) * (Optional) Sue for peace. * (Optional) Negotiate with the enemy.
Experience: 84,119 -> 91,069 / 102,400
Things that were not going great included the truck that was now non-operational because Requiem had snapped its driveshaft in half, that they were getting very low on long gun ammunition, and that the salamanders kept changing their tactics - and taking lives. After the single combat adventure, the attacking beasts had advanced in a single large group. They came within range, but didn''t try to attack the wall directly once Reid was over it. Then, they''d done the same thing while including higher leveled versions. They split into two groups and rushed at opposite sides of the wall forces, then split off further until they were in groups of twenty or so. They had stuck with that formation, and were getting closer to the wall defenders with each rush forward. The lethal development was an odd one. Possibly trying to emulate Reid''s thrown rocks and grenades, or trying to mimic what Reid had done to get back on the wall, the level tens had thrown their smaller compatriots up at the wall''s defenders. Some slammed low into the wood and died when the impact crushed their skulls. A few flew high overhead, and defenders had to move attention inside Sanctuary to kill the beasts. Three had ''landed'' properly in the defensive squads - and savaged the groups before they were put down.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. It was Sanctuary''s first deaths in the conflict, and they came at the hands of some of the weakest enemies. All of those deaths had been on the left side of the defenders. Squad 3 lost an archer, warrior, and their magic caster. Squad 4 lost their officer and two archers. Squad 6 was down four warriors. Another handful of fighters were getting treated by non-magical medical staff and were out of the fight from their injuries. It frustrated Reid - but the defenders hadn''t been ready for or expecting salamanders to suddenly be in their midst. Surprisingly, the salamanders didn''t continue with that tactic, and instead pulled back. The enemy group seemed to be testing out different strategies they could use to harass the wall defenders and do damage. What Reid didn''t understand was why they hadn''t simply sent a larger force directly to the wall itself. He looked out at the two remaining guardians and the Crimson Titan. Their eyes scanned over the battlefield, but always returned to Reid. Reid had theories. His performance against the elite and the guardian made them all more wary of Reid and Sanctuary''s defenders than they rightly should be. Defeating them in single combat made the leaders want to see if there were other, ranged attacks strong enough to kill the more powerful creatures. They were trying to draw out some reserved defensive skill that would be single-use like the Titan''s roar, or the elites and guardians were just testing things and didn''t care if the smaller creatures were killed. He shuddered at that one. Maybe they just didn''t care if they ended up losing those forces, because the weaker creatures were considered expendable. Expendable, but still capable of tearing apart Sanctuary''s defenders. A final salamander was thrown at the wall on his right, and slammed into the side. Its skull compacted and crushed down into its neck, and it fell to the ground dead. The archers there were splattered with a bit of brain matter, but seemed okay. Everyone was either very quickly getting used to gore, or would be soon. They were also starting to get mentally fatigued from the repeated engagements. The flow shifted on the field. A group of 5 large and 12 small salamanders rushed forward as a unit. The small salamanders ran in front of the level 10s in a horseshoe shape, and their larger compatriots seemed to try to duck to avoid ranged blows. When they got to the wall, the beasts started to climb. Their crystalline claws bit deep into the wood and splinters flew as they propelled themselves up the battlement. Reid was once again thankful that Mark had been so diligent about improving their defenses and raising the height of the walls. They weren''t high enough to properly stop a guardian or the Titan itself, but they forced almost everything else to slow down and climb. Squads 14 and 15 compressed in on the beasts. Their 8 archers and 3 magic users leaned over the side and sent as many attacks into the climbers as they could manage. Three of the smaller salamanders fell to the ground. The rest kept advancing and made it to the top. The ranged attackers retreated, and the squads'' 7 warriors took over and stepped in to take any melee blows. Or, that was what they tried to do. The first salamander over the wall took one of the magic users in the back with a rising strike. Claws raked through ribs and tore flesh out of the man''s back as he shouted and stumbled forward. He tumbled off the rear side of the wall and landed head-first in the dirt. Reid saw the defender''s casualty count increase as his neck snapped on impact. Reid winced. If the man had put any of his free points into constitution, he probably would have lived. The commotion made enough space for two more salamanders to summit the wall. A trio of warriors smashed through the first salamander''s skull, and the other four split into pairs that engaged the two other salamanders up with them. The remaining magic users and archers repositioned and leaned further out over the wall with renewed vigor to shoot the still-climbing attackers. Four more small salamanders fell off the wall dead, which left the pair of squads with five small variants and five of the eight-footers. Another small salamander summited the wall and was dispatched. A level 11 was shot through the eye by a lucky arrow and fell to the ground. And then one of the big ones got over. Reid had imagined the larger salamanders fighting Sanctuary''s defenders up close. He''d pictured them swarming through the walls and overwhelming the residents. But somewhere in his time fighting ever-tougher monsters, Reid had lost his framing on just how dangerous and deadly even a single level 10 could be to a normal person. Claws flashed out from the larger beast - with more range than the previous ones had. It sliced through one of the warriors at the shoulder and flung the man''s top half into a woman by his side. The beast turned its head to the right and bit out at Squad 15''s officer. Hooked teeth punctured his chest, and the salamander lifted him into the air. It shook him like a chew toy, and the man''s body pulled itself apart at the puncture wounds. Warriors screamed and hacked at the salamander''s limbs. They managed to sever its left arm, but it swung out with its right and split a warrior''s skull at the ear. The salamander then spun and brought its tail to bear. The impact sent a warrior and an archer tumbling over the wrong side of the wall. A high leveled salamander still on the ground quickly ended their screams. Reid was partway to the group to reinforce it, but a familiar figure got there first. Warren, the ever-gruff bartender, ducked under a swiping claw and slammed a bone-tipped spear up into the beast''s lower jaw so hard, it came clean out the other side. He spun his body and let the fresh corpse fall over the inside wall, then took two steps over to the outer lip and thrust down hard. Another level ten that had been scaling the wall face dropped dead, a hole in the side of its head just above the eye. Reid stood, mouth agog, as the old man cleaned up the rest of the attacking group. Reid knew some people at Sanctuary could gain experience and level themselves up by using skills alone. Mark was a great example - the more high quality wood supplies he produced, the faster his experience would grow. Reid hadn''t seen Warren fight anything, so his strength - and the levels that must have fed it - needed to come from somewhere. The puzzle pieces fell into place. Warren''s bar never ran out of alcohol, no matter what Sanctuary''s supplies were like. Even between the scavenger runs that brought back beer and spirits, there was never a dry day. As the man walked back towards Reid to re-take his spot with his own squad, he took an impossibly-long swig from a very small flask. That sonnovabitch. His skill makes alcohol. Reid gave the man an appreciative thumbs-up for clearing out the group, and jogged back to his place above the gate. Some of the reserve troops passed him with sheets, and Reid gave them a curt nod. They''d wrap the defender''s bodies, and get them down off the wall itself. Any dead salamanders would just get kicked over the side. They''d lost another seven people in that attack, and it was just from a small group of beasts. A group they''d been able to reinforce against with multiple squads and a backup member from an entirely different area. Reid''s expectations for the battle sunk lower. Another mixed group of single-digit-level and level 10 salamanders had started to approach the left side. Reid grabbed a softball sized rock and sent it hurtling through the head of one of the level 10s. He watched Marysa send a bodkin point through another. One was shot through the eye by a long gun. Even without his help, it was obvious the left side of their forces had better ranged fighters than the right, and the right side had slightly better melee fighters than the left. A solid wood spear slammed into a salamander''s foot and held it in place. Magic users and archers all around poured the fire on. By the time the group reached the wall, only one large and two small salamanders were left. Mark''s thrown spears and Marysa''s archery at that distance put the rest down. The Crimson Titan vocalized with a series of screeches that called the groups back into the main force. Every salamander attacking the walls broke off and returned to the mass of enemies. Reid took the opportunity to make another few clusters of arrowheads. Even amidst the fighting, he''d tried to keep the other defenders supplied. Bodkin points popped out of the knuckles on his left hand, and he watched the enemy move. None of the salamanders turned around or assembled into the units they''d been facing so far. Reid looked down and swore. He''d pumped out more arrowheads from his left hand, but had also gone through the motions with his right. Instead of making arrows, he''d grown 4 spikes out of the knuckles on his right gauntlet. He waved for a runner to take the arrowheads to Mark. He could fix his armor later. The group started to shift and reconfigure itself. Two elites and a large contingent of the 10s and small salamanders surrounded the guardians and the Crimson Titan. The other seven elites fanned out in a semicircle. Twenty of the level 10s wrapped each elite in a similar horseshoe shape, and another 65 low-levels moved to the front of each formation. They spread roughly equidistant from each other. The elites lowered their heads to hide behind the level 10s. A guardian screeched, and 602 salamanders advanced on Sanctuary''s wall. CH 56: Numbers Advantage Gunpowder burned in Reid''s nostrils. Bowstrings twanged. Explosions and screeches sounded out from the advancing groups of salamanders, as Sanctuary''s 200 outer wall defenders lashed out at the 602 advancing beasts with as many arrows, grenades, magic attacks, spears, and bullets as they could. Any thoughts they may have had about preserving ammunition were entirely gone. They shouted encouragement to one another in mental preparation for the coming horde. The medics were retreating off to a secondary "staging area" that was really just three pickups with their tailgates open and one van. The noncombatants were more of a liability on the wall than they would be a help. The only one still on the wooden battlement was Danny. He''d been instructed that his priority was to keep Reid as close to 100% as possible throughout the fight. No one was crazy enough to think that other defenders would have as much of an effect on the battle as Reid. Walt was still convinced the salamanders had held off their attacks so far because of Reid - and was hopeful that keeping him up and in the center would continue to deter the salamanders away from the ''weak point'' of Sanctuary''s gate. Reid wasn''t so convinced of that possibility anymore. He still didn''t understand the thought that might''ve been behind the recent attacks, but the salamanders weren''t avoiding Reid now. Two of their advancing groups were walking forward on opposite sides of the dirt path that led up to the front gate - and both elites kept their eyes and focus on Reid. They stalked along, only the tops of their heads visible behind the wall of flesh in front of them. They advanced, slowly. Reid knew the larger salamanders could run faster that the little ones. He''d seen how quickly they could move during his fights with them. But again, they were showing some basic tactics by keeping the strongest forces at the rear. And the small salamanders could move faster than they were currently advancing. Reid just couldn''t figure out why they were all sticking to such a slow pace. Reid hurled rocks and grenades. He killed some, but couldn''t get anywhere close to hurting the level 10s nor the elites. Whenever a small salamander was killed by his blow - or the work of another defender, new enemies pulled forward in the group to keep a solid mass at the front of the pack. The same thing was happening out to the sides. Three groups advanced on the right side of the wall, and two to the left. Danny kept shifting his focus over to Marysa and the teenage archers. The man had let some of himself - his real self - slip out during Reid''s healing. It was a kind of adamant and true concern and caring, and it wasn''t hard to tell that he was weighing whether he should ignore orders and focus on keeping the kids alive. The teens shot off their arrows - and some of the poorer archers fired guns. Reid wanted Danny to help them, too. It was the right thing. But the decisions they were all saddled with didn''t just end at what felt right - they were a question of Sanctuary''s fate. If the gate fell because Danny focused on the wrong defenders, they could lose part of their qualitative edge and potentially lose Danny himself. Doing the right thing really is a luxury. Reid hated how every time his words came back to him, he agreed with them just a little bit more. The advancing groups shifted. The two groups on opposite sides of the dirt path converged and surged forward at a dead sprint. They would get to the wall before any of the others. To the left, the two groups shifted and ran towards the middle of the defenders - right where squads 4, 5, and 6 were weakened from previous attacks. Two of the groups on the right aimed for the far end of their defensive line - where Sanctuary''s ranged defenses were arguably the weakest. The final group on the right pushed straight in for squad 14 and 15. Each group had shifted to a weakened, or weak location. Reid didn''t like it - he knew the probing attacks must have had a reason behind them, and it felt like he was seeing that now. But he didn''t have time to help the other squads - the two groups focused on Reid would arrive soon enough. Even at their sprinting speed, it was difficult for Reid to see the elites behind the other salamanders. They were simply a mass of red backs and white bellies that shielded the members behind them. Dead and wounded alike were trampled underneath the advance every time a defender took one down. Reid threw more projectiles until they were nearly on the wall itself. It was fairly obvious they were trying to get the more powerful beasts to the wall. The elites would be able to climb more quickly once they reached it, and posed a larger threat to Sanctuary''s defenders. But neither Reid nor anyone else was having luck putting damage to the well-defended beasts. Which is why Reid had come up with a simple solution. If the weak salamanders were out front, he just needed to get behind them. And really, who would expect a counter-attack? The front of the merged group reached the base of the wall and started to climb, even as the rest of the groups were less than halfway to Sanctuary''s wooden walls. Defenders engaged with fierce determination. They held nothing back, and neither did Reid. He took a few steps back from the outer edge of the wall, and gripped Requiem tight in his left hand - still unarmored after the earlier loss of his gauntlet. Reid had ensured his mace was repaired by pushing more energy into it, but hadn''t given himself time to regrow the armor. Reid pulled on his strengthening skill and worked the rage-filled power through his body and down into his legs. Wood cracked under his foot as he sprinted forward with explosive force. He planted a final step on the lip of the wall, and kicked off as hard as he could. Reid could never be mistaken for graceful - but he was strong, and he was durable. Reid hurtled through the air as his momentum took him out and nearly over the group at Sanctuary''s gate. He fell just behind the elites - and tumbled before he regained his footing. He cycled the strengthening back to a full-body enhancement and turned.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Reid immediately set himself into a lunge at the closest elite. The speed and audacity of his actions left the thing unprepared for Reid''s attack, and it was still facing away from him. Requiem slammed through the back of its throat and out the other side. Reid pulled back on his weapon to go for another strike, but the salamander''s jaw got hooked on the bottom of the flanges and Reid ended up pulling the thing''s head back down to him instead. The elite slammed down into the ground - close enough for Reid to see the folds of skin under its eyes. He lashed out with the spiked gauntlet on his right hand and buried his arm up to the bicep in the thing''s eye socket. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 19. Bonus Experience Awarded. Reid shook the excess gore off his arm and freed his mace from the corpse. A few of the level 10s had moved to separate Reid from the other elite. He donned an angry, almost feral grin. Level 10s were strong, but Reid was stronger. They had numbers, but Reid had a weapon with reach. They pounced, and slashed and bit - but Reid matched their strikes. One swing carved through the midsection of three beasts. Reid spun with his momentum and slammed his mace into another with a blow that sent it flying back into the main group. More tumbled over like bowling pins. A salamander tried to bite down on his arm holding Requiem, but its teeth shattered against his armor. Reid cocked his fist and punched through the thing''s skull with his gauntlet. He punched and smashed in the general direction of the second elite, leaving bloody holes in skulls or shattering them entirely. He stomped on heads when blows that didn''t kill sent the creatures to the ground, and spun Requiem around himself every time he needed to make more room. Soon, all the beasts that were able to abandon their task of protecting the ''front'' of the group or scaling the wall were dead, and there was nothing separating Reid from the other elite. It screeched and charged him, but Reid knew their game now. He waited for it to swing out with one of its hands, and brought Requiem up to meet its arm. Requiem shattered through it and the severed hand and claws flew sideways and lashed through still-downed and tangled beasts. Reid stepped in before the salamander could retreat and stabbed Requiem through its leg before jumping away from another clawed strike. The beast tottered on its weakened leg before its weight brought it to a knee. Reid didn''t waste the opportunity, and plunged Requiem up into the thing''s head. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 19. Bonus Experience Awarded. Reid panted heavy. His muscles ached, and he could already tell he''d need some healing time to recover from the continuous use of his strengthening skill. The death of their second commander sent the two groups into a frenzy - aimed directly at Reid. He met them with fury, violence in both hands, and a feral roar. He fought on until his entire body was covered in blood. He punched with his knuckle spikes until they snapped off under the strain. He sent Requiem out to bite into salamander brains over, and over, and over again. He did his lethal work, until there were no more enemies standing to challenge him. Only then did Reid allow himself to pause. He heaved in breaths with his hands on his knees and did his best to keep himself from collapsing. He was bleeding from a dozen cuts on his exposed left arm, and knew he was close to physical exhaustion. He needed to get to Danny, quickly. The defenders had helped Reid in the fight - though they did more to cripple the beasts than kill them. But that gave Reid more easy kills, and easy gains. Reid gave them a glance.
Experience: 103,949 / 204,800 Level 12: -> 13 Control: 70 -> 75
It was Reid''s first level since killing Bertrand, and he was glad to have it, even if he couldn''t solidify the power gains right now. Reid forced himself into a half-jog towards the wall, where a ladder was waiting for him. The gate was mostly clear, and ranged attacks picked off the stragglers trying to climb. On each side though, the other five groups had reached Sanctuary''s wall and were in various states of battle. The defender''s resistance couldn''t hold back the torrent of beasts that flung themselves into the fray. Small salamanders died in the dozens, but more and more were making it onto the battlements themselves. Warriors and archers fell to tooth and claw - but the worst was yet to come. Limbs flew and blood spilled as the eight foot tall salamanders summited Sanctuary''s defenses. The level 10s used areas troubled by the smaller salamanders to carve out larger areas of control, and soon the beasts had beachheads amidst the defenders. Things grew exponentailly worse. Once one level 10 was over, it made things easier for the next to arrive. With two, a third was nearly guaranteed to make it up alive. And the extra violence from more and more of the level 10s pushed Sanctuary''s defenders back enough for more of the level 10s to scale the wall in twos and threes. The other elites stayed back, still - even with the beachheads their groups had started to establish. They hid behind more of their brethren, almost as if they were afraid to attack. But that couldn''t be it. Salamanders weren''t afraid to die, nor did they fear or really seem to feel their injuries during a fight. They were aggressive, savage beasts - so... why weren''t the elites scaling the walls? Reid frowned. It was all still just a bit wrong. They were all missing something here - he could feel it. The salamanders had the numbers advantage. They''d always had the advantage, and they were smart enough that they should''ve realized that early on in the fight. But instead of attacking, they''d spent minutes going through the pageantry of one-on-one fights with Reid. Even after he''d been injured, they hadn''t pursued him all the way back to the wall. They knew they could''ve taken him out then, or at least could have sent their probing attacks his way. But it was only now that they''d pressed the attack. Every test, every attempt had cost them the lives of their army. Even when things were successful, they didn''t press their advantages too far. He put hand over hand on the ladder and climbed, then took Walt''s waiting arm to make it over the top. Danny started healing him before he was fully over the wall. The salamander''s intelligence was coming out in all the wrong ways. Like they were both playing the part of the intelligent creature and the dumb beast... Like they were trying to stall for time. Reid''s neck chilled. They hadn''t fully attacked because they neither needed nor wanted to. They were waiting for something - something they now had. It didn''t take long for Reid''s mind to flash through the possibilities. It was about the elites. The entire attack was focused around getting the elites up to the walls. Reid started to shout at Walt, but it was too late. The Crimson Titan roared. You have been paralyzed for 0.5 seconds. Defenders froze. Salamanders Froze. Across the wall and the battlefield, sound, noise, and motion vanished as everything stilled. Everything but the elites. CH 57: Splinters Reid watched with horror as the elites, not paralyzed by the Crimson Titan''s roar, shot up onto the wall. The frozen defenders were completely helpless. Locked in a painting of a battle with the smaller creatures as the elites tore through it all. People split into vaguely human pieces as long claws with longer reach sliced through defenders and salamanders alike. Every attack, every flail and flick they made took lives. Reid shouted and swore. On the left, squads 3, 4, and 5 were wiped out entirely. To the right, squad 14 and 15, and their replacements, were shredded. Near the end of the wall, squads 17 through 20 were ground down to half their members. When time resumed for everyone, vast sections of Sanctuary''s broken and crippled defenses crumbled away. Residents that had expected themselves tough and ready had helplessness thrown in their faces, and they recoiled at the true promise of death. Some jumped straight off the back side of the walls and ran. Pickup and van transport drivers honked horns and shifted into low gear in attempts to hasten the defender''s retreat. Walt shouted into his radio for everyone to fall back, and then told the secondary wall defenders to hold. Their evacuation column wasn''t done clearing out of the rear gate, and wouldn''t be for a while longer. If the next wall fell now, they''d be massacred. Reid wasn''t even sure if all the defenders could make it there, but they couldn''t stay on the first wall. Elites and level 10s sliced their way through the defenders. Reid willed Danny to heal him faster. He needed to get back in the fight, and was only waiting for the barest of recovery. Off to the right, Warren fought hard against a quartet of the level 10s. The gruff old bartender''s shirt was torn in two places that revealed a strongman-like torso dripping with blood, and his spear thrust out and into the creatures. To the left, Marysa''s kids had mixed reactions. Some of them were frozen in fear and shock. A few turned and ran. The majority kept up the fight, and continued to send arrows into other sections of the wall, or had melee weapons in their hands. Many predators had a natural prey drive. If something ran, it would become an irresistible target, and the predator would chase it without thought to itself. Reid''s neighbor had a dog that ran away like that once, chasing after a rabbit. The same thing happened with the salamanders. As more defenders rushed off the back of the wall, the level 10s and smaller ones chased to follow them. The elites stayed on the wall, screeching and popping at their fellow beasts, to little effect. The salamanders down off the wall died, and killed, and chased. A pickup on the far right, where squads 17 through 20 were evacuating, started up and drove back towards the second wall - but got stuck in second gear. The thing''s engine screamed and whined as the driver put the pedal to the floor in an attempt to eek out more speed. The salamanders were faster, and frenzied. They caught up with the vehicle and tore into its side. Tires popped under the assault of the claws. A door was ripped off its hinges, and the suspension squeaked as the truck was violently rattled by the assault. Wounded men and women in the bed were carved through by tooth and claw. By the time it was over, the pickup looked like it had been put through a paper shredder. Reid shuddered and tapped Danny on the arm to tell him he was done. He couldn''t stay sitting where he was while people were dying around him. And the truck was a sobering realization. The evacuation column, by all accounts, was moving slower than that pickup had been. If the salamanders won, they''d catch up to the vehicles and tear them to shreds. On the left, Mark and Marysa were fighting together against an elite while she shouted at the kids to flee. Her leg was bleeding profusely, but she fired arrow after arrow into the beast. Mark crafted new spears as quickly as he could throw them, and peppered the elite and surrounding beasts to slow them down. A lucky shot from Mark slammed into the elite''s eyesocket and killed it. The remaining beasts were frenzied by the kill - just like they had been when Reid killed the two in front of the gate. Mark''s restraining spears kept them back long enough for the kids to evacuate down off the wall on a freshly-crafted wooden ladder. Mark''s kill left a single elite on the left side, and three to the right. Reid needed to thin their numbers - so the choice was simple. He sprinted down the right battlement and lashed out with his mace. His muscles ached and complained, but they worked - and that was enough. Further down the wall, blue light glowed. Warren had graduated from fighting level 10s to contending with elites. As Reid got closer, he realized the man was not in good shape. His armor was reduced to splinters at his feet, and deep gouges bled all across his body. Most of the defenders that had attempted to come to his aid were dead, and the rest were barely holding the attention of two of the elites. They had gotten past Warren in the midst of the fighting, and stood between Reid and the old bartender. Warren''s focus and fight was with one elite out towards the end of the wall. The first elite Reid came to was facing away from him. Requiem lashed out in a rising swing that shoved the salamander''s lower right jaw up into the top of its head.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 17. Bonus Experience Awarded. Ahead, the next elite in line was facing towards Reid''s direction, and it charged through wounded and bleeding defenders to meet him. It swung out with calculated strikes, and Reid found himself unable to get past or in close with the limited space he had to dodge and run. He cursed himself for not figuring out how to increase his dexterity, and fought on while looking for the right moment to land the kill. Reid slowly pushed the cautious elite back with his attacks, and heard something entirely unexpected. Deep bass notes wafted through the air as a voice like gravel and cigarettes sang out softly in the midst of the fight. "Hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like, we''re in for nasty weather." Warren punctuated each line of the song with spear thrusts that took the elite in the legs. He swore in pain as the elite twisted with the spear still lodged in its knee, and sliced off his leg in response. It put a crystal claw through the downed man''s shoulder to pin him to the wall. Reid fought harder against the elite holding him, but couldn''t get around its crystal claws in the limited space. His armor suffered gouges and chips as he focused on doing everything he could to push the beast back. Warren fumbled with something in his free arm as the elite glowed with the blue light of its healing skill. When it was done, the elite reared back its head and opened its maw above the bartender. Reid furiously traded blows with the salamander holding him back. Requiem''s flanges chipped as they met the crystal claws. Pieces of his bone armor splintered off. Reid''s elite was forced further back, closer to the gruff old man and the beast that had maimed him. Warren coughed, then growled out the next line of the song. "One eye is taken for an eye." The man Raised a grenade up to his face as the elite bit down into him. The salamander lifted the bartender up and started to shake his body - then the battlement itself shook as the grenade went off. The elite''s eyeball shot out of its socket like a comet with a tail made of brain matter. Warren''s mangled body slipped and fell out of a broken mouth. Reid''s elite was distracted by the blast just long enough for him to take its left hand off at the wrist. With its blades chipped, Requiem smashed through the salamander in brutal violence. He grabbed its other arm with his free hand, and thrust Requiem up under its jaw. You have defeated Salamander - lvl 18. Bonus Experience Awarded. The elites body slumped to the floor, and Reid realized the salamanders that had been chasing down the defenders were turned back towards him on the wall. More frenzied behavior after their commanders went down. Reid wearily dropped to a knee, and rolled Warren''s dead body onto his back. His face was blackened and contorted, unrecognizable. He didn''t even have eyes to close. Reid hesitantly tore a scrap of the man''s shirt off and covered his face with it. He panted with exertion and fatigue. His muscles felt entirely spent again, and threatened to give out on him. He groaned as he stood back up, and looked between Warren and the creature he''d killed. "Good fight." # From inside Sanctuary, beasts that had chased getaway vehicles swarmed back to take down the humans that dared kill an elite. Outside, the main force of salamanders had finally begun to advance. A guardian had reinforced the remaining attacking elite and its group, and tore through anyone that dared stay and fight. It screeched and popped, and any salamanders down inside Sanctuary on the left flank turned around to regroup at the outer wall. Marysa was missing a leg and half a hand, but Danny''s frantic healing seemed to have stopped her bleeding. Reid could only watch on in horror as the regrouping level 10s took opportunistic swipes at the concentrating healer and his charge. Lowell and Mark furiously battered them back and did what they could to push the salamanders away from the healer. Most of the salamander''s strikes missed. One didn''t. The blow took off Danny''s outstretched arms, and split through the therapist''s skull and neck. She died in an instant, and the healer wailed. Lowell grabbed Danny by the collar and then around the waist as he swapped focus from defending to retreating. Mark ran alongside him, sending wooden spears out to slow any beasts that were too close. He was crafting new ones far slower than he had at the start of the fight. Walt''s shouting from below brought Reid''s attention back to his own section of the fight. He was on a three wheeler, and already had two wounded strapped to the back, with another riding behind him on the seat. She was bleeding through a mass of bandages over her left bicep. Reid recognized the machine they were on as a "big red" honda. He knew someone that owned one of those once. They always said it was actually pretty hard to tip over sideways, and- "Come on! We need to get back, now!" Reid shook himself, and felt his weary legs complaining as he eyed the drop. He forced himself to jump, and crumpled when he hit the ground. He had let his strengthening skill lapse - and his body was showing him just how far he''d pushed himself. A swearing Walt grabbed him by the elbow and led him over to the three wheeler. "Sit over the front tire - we need to go, now." Reid moved his eyes between the wall, Marysa''s dead body, and the amassing salamanders. Bits of Mark''s wooden armor littered the ground and the wall, like splintered wood chips. The blood made them look like they were made of cherry wood. "Okay." Reid sat down on the front luggage bars, and Walt quickly tied him to it with a length of rope. "I don''t think that''s-" Walt was already back on the seat, and the big red''s engine hurled them forward with a throaty roar. Reid let his head loll so he didn''t have to flex his neck. His head slammed down into the plastic and metal, but he didn''t care. The fatigue of the fight was really hitting him now, and and it made him feel like the bumpy journey was putting him to sleep. Reid couldn''t fight an entire army. He''d struggled to win because of environmental restrictions that hurt his technique - or lack thereof. As he slipped towards sleep, Reid started to hatch a plan. He needed to heal, quickly. He needed to get back in the fight, and then force the situation to make things to his advantage. They would not lose their second line of defense. CH 58: Plans and Data -{///} Finola {///}- Finola''s eyes were inches away from her screens - as if the proximity would make her just a hair more aware of what was going on in Earth''s most notable settlement. She''d spent so long - too long - trying to figure out who was on her planet causing problems. Now - well, she was always good at interpreting data. There were others in the executive team that had similar skill, but Earth was hers. Loz''ar had made sure of that, and none could overrule his decisions. Which meant no one else would go snooping around the live-data-feeds she was routing to herself. The live data was expensive, but she''d liquified one of her shadow savings funds to acquire it. For the first time since observing Earth, she could ''see'' the self-affixer. It wasn''t perfect. Finola had to use a combination of near-real-time beast location and level data, experience point gain information for the actual Sanctuary and Calderwall Empire residents, and then put that together over a rough map of the area she''d been able to get from the system, too. It created a black hole on the battlefield where beasts died and no one earned the experience - one that she could watch. The being was versatile and deadly. They killed beasts from range, and also took the fighting in close. They''d fought two single beasts in some sort of honorific ritual, which itself was very, very odd. And then they''d torn through the attacking force with vigor before they were seemingly forced into a retreat. Finola hoped they weren''t too badly injured. The beasts would soon attack the settlement again, and the people were already starting to run. She found a part of herself hoping for their victory - however unlikely that might be. The fingers on her right hand rapped rhythmically against her desk, inches away from the screen locked to the fire controls that would obliterate their planet.
+ Reid + Reid came to in the back of an old RV that smelled musty, with notes of stale beer. His body was still sore, but he could move his arms and legs without sending shooting pains throughout his limbs. His head, though, was clearer than it had been since the start of the fight. Reid didn''t pay close attention to his mental state during combat, but it was clear he''d once again overdone things in a way that could''ve caused him to shift into poor decision making. The plan he''d come up with before he passed out was still in his mind - and it didn''t seem bad. Muffled slamming footsteps, shouts, and honking horns made their way through the RV''s walls to Reid''s ears. His battle-scarred armor clacked and scraped against itself as he stood. The bone was stained with blood in most of the gouges and dents. Reid didn''t even know bone could dent, but the damage was there. He ran a finger along a scrape that went just over his heart. That one had come awfully close to breaking through. Images of Marysa''s and Warren''s deaths flashed through his mind and he heard the ghost of a song ring in his ears. Reid tepidly brought the quest''s objectives counter into focus. Quest Sub-Objectives: * Prevent Losses: 112 * Defeat the Crimson Titan: ( 0 / 1 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Guardians: ( 1 / 3 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Elites: ( 7 / 10 ) * Defeat the Crimson Titan''s Minions: ( 496 / 2,106 ) * (Optional) Sue for peace. * (Optional) Negotiate with the enemy. The deaths of the people he knew were notable. The rest - they were tragic. People had lost their lives, but so many of their faces and ends blended together in Reid''s mind that he could only find the mental strength to focus on Warren and Marysa. Others he knew - whose names were on Requiem''s handle - had also come perilously close to dying. Reid cracked his neck and rolled the stiffness out of his shoulders. The door squeaked as it opened on poorly-maintained hinges and revealed a base in chaos. Reid and the camper he''d just left were part of the growing formation in last stand field. A line of impatient vehicles were queued up to get out of the back gate, but whatever route they were all following, the column moved entirely too slowly. Reid caught a glimpse of the path, and realized why. It wasn''t a road, or even a proper dirt path. The RVs, trucks, and every other vehicle that could drive were going over rocky, uneven terrain. Half their convoy would flip over if they tried to speed up. The others would probably rattle apart. Wounded defenders moaned and bled in an open-air medical site set up close to the vehicle column. Medics wrapped and stitched wounds together while the people waited for magical healing to bring them back to full. Reid knew Danny and Susan''s reserves were supposed to be saved for their strongest fighters - so the wounded would be waiting for a while. He followed the second loudest shouts to an RV with an awning that had been curtained off from the rest of the camp. The cloth did little to stop the noise from carrying. "Why would they change tactics? It worked the first time for them, so we should assume they''ll wait for the paralyze cooldown to end before they attack again." Marlene''s voice was strained. "But if I can distract the big one, we can buy more time for everyone else to get away." Reid was surprised to hear Toby was the one arguing with Marlene.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Reid pulled open the curtain and stepped into the small, cramped space. Sara pushed her way through the gathered crowd and slammed into Reid with a silent hug. He wrapped a hand around her and squeezed - happy to see that she wasn''t in the same stupor that had consumed her earlier. But Marlene had been right - there was still something wrong. She pulled away from him, smiled, and turned back towards the now-quiet group that were staring at them both. Reid pulled her back and whispered a question. "Are you feeling alright, Sara?" His daughter turned to face him, and swallowed. She was far too calm - too cool and collected. Her voice was light, and hollow. "I''m fine." She lowered her head and turned back towards the group. If his perception were any lower, Reid wouldn''t have heard her next whisper. "Everything will be fine as long as I don''t run." That was different - and Reid didn''t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sara had been adamant before about getting everyone out of Sanctuary alive. Now she was certain everything would work out as long as she didn''t run. Something about the idea made Reid''s skin crawl. He donned a halfhearted smile as Walt, Mark, and others thanked him for what he''d done on the outer wall - and realized Susan, Danny, and Lowell were all missing from this meeting. Marlene pressed them on time. If the salamander''s pattern held, they only had another 35 minutes before they''d attack again. Reid couldn''t solve every problem right now, but that was okay - because he could work on the biggest one. He focused on the man holding a bone warhammer. "Toby, how were you going to distract the Crimson Titan?" Reid asked. Marlene started to speak, but Toby jumped in over her. "I have a skill called aggressive taunt. It lets me single out a living being and gets it to focus on me and only me. Works on anything within 50 levels of mine, and sends them into a rage that lasts until they kill me, or the skill ends. There''s another effect that makes me less visible to other beasts while it''s active, too. My plan is to get on a dirt bike and lead that thing as far from here as I can. Then, I deactivate the skill and come back." Reid found himself quite impressed. Toby''s skill was good - and shed some light on how he''d taken on so many people when he freed the survivors at Margaret. More than that, he''d come up with a plan that was similar to Reid''s own - and solved the biggest issue Reid had. "Toby, I''ve got a better idea..." With Toby''s skill - and ignoring some disagreement from Marlene - the plan developed. They''d make a run at pulling the Crimson Titan away from its forces. The hope was they''d at least get the Titan and guardians away long enough to challenge them in a fight. Reid had already killed a guardian by himself. Now that he knew their tricks, he felt confident in doing that again. And - with Sara and other strong defenders there, they should be able to do enough damage to the Crimson Titan that they could put it down with a killing blow. Every time an elite had been killed, salamanders under their influence were sent into a frenzy - focused on the people that had killed the elites. It stood to reason that the same thing would happen when they killed the Crimson Titan. If they could frenzy and pull even some of the other beasts away from the main force, they could use that to lead the salamanders away from Sanctuary''s group - or fight the things on their own time as they ran. As long as they could turn an overwhelming problem into a manageable one, it would all work out. They''d seen the smaller salamanders and the larger ones running at what seemed like a full sprint - so they reasoned one of the larger dirtbikes would actually be fast enough to kite the Titan around the battlefield while keeping Toby safe. The major downside to the plan was, of course, that while Toby''s skill was active, the Titan would be trying to kill him. Toby noted that people - or beasts - didn''t outright ignore other threats or their surroundings, but were strongly pushed to cause him violence. That meant they needed to dedicate some manpower to keep Toby safe. Reid did have some reservations about bringing Sara into the fight, but he knew that he needed her help to get this done - and that she wouldn''t take no for an answer if he tried to stop her. Instead, he made her promise to follow his lead during the fight, and to only engage if she saw clear openings, or when he signaled her to attack. Once everything was set, Reid spared a few minutes to see Susan while everyone else got the vehicles and personnel ready, and over the second wall. Hugs and ''I love you''s were exchanged - after Reid convinced his wife that yes, it was a bad idea for her to be in the thick of things, even if they expected to have a good plan that would keep the beasts under some sort of control. She agreed to stay on standby at the wall instead - ready for anyone that needed to drop out of the fight due to injury. # When they''d gotten everything ready, there were only 20 minutes left before the Titan would be able to use its next roar. The escape column continued its slow progress into the woods out the rear gate. Reid surveyed the group. Lowell was at the controls of a dirtbike, with Toby on the backseat. Despite how the last battle had impacted him, Lowell refused to let anyone else be responsible for keeping his beau alive. He and Sara were both in the bed of a lifted square-bodied chevy that sported a two-tone paintjob, along with a handful of other volunteers. The 454 big block sputtered and growled like a caged animal ready to pounce. It was the fastest and most capable of the four trucks they''d taken for this venture, and also the one with the most capable fighters. Each had warriors and ranged attackers - and ideally, they''d be able to swap between vehicles if any became damaged. Marlene and James were on the second wall, doing their best to coordinate the defenders to be ready for everything to go sideways - and for a swarm of Salamanders to attack. Mark made large pointed wooden stars modeled after the anti-tank Czech hedgehog - and was filling as much of the space in front of the second wall with them as he could. When he was done there, he was ordered to do the same leading all the way back to the rear gate. They''d missed an opportunity in not laying down more traps, and they''d fix that mistake as much as they could in the time they had left before the next push from the beasts. Reid hoped his plan would eliminate the need for a second defense. Their attack group sped forward, though grass and terrain, dirt roads and empty campsites. They soon came into view of the outer wall, coated in a layer of red. It reminded him of the clover mites that would swarm around rocks and onto stone in his backyard. The Titan, flanked by its guardians, towered above the rest. Reid signaled Toby. The Crimson Titan let out a threatening roar - and sprinted forward. Each step thundered and shook their vehicles, even this far away. One of the guardians followed the Titan, screeching. The other stayed with the main group and let out a long series of popping noises. The two salamanders crashed through brush and stationary camper trailers as they bee-lined for Toby. The fight was on, and it was coming to them. CH 59: Picking a Fight Reid tamped down the flinch of fear he felt for the approaching beasts. The Titan was just another, bigger salamander. He''d already killed one guardian, even if he''d had to sacrifice an arm to end it. The guardian that had stayed with the bulk of their forces on the wall seemed to be quelling the little ones'' drive to chase after their leader. Reid was thankful for that. What they were trying to do was going to be tough enough without more of the damn lizards to kill. And - less of them also meant their attacking group could all focus on the Titan and its lone guardian. He tapped the roof of the truck, and the driver turned them to face away from the closing monsters. The engine''s throaty roar was only outdone by the Titan itself, as it vocalized towards the fleeing humans. Phase one of the plan was to get the Titan as far as possible from its main force. They flew over hills and between trees as they used Toby''s skill to kite the thing and its guardian to a spot that didn''t have direct line of sight to the rest of the beasts. Even if the Titan went down, none of the other salamanders would be aware. Well, unless it had some sort of death screech waiting. As they neared their first checkpoint, Reid ran his thumb over Requiem''s names. He''d added a music note symbol next to Warren''s. Reid wasn''t what he would call fully rested. His body still ached from overexertion, but his muscles worked, and he knew he could use his strengthening skill long enough to make the difference in the coming fight. The vehicles moved into a bell-curve formation, and all but Toby slowed. This was the true test. If the Titan stayed moving straight ahead, they knew Toby''s skill was working - and then they could encircle it from behind to wound it and slow it down. If it instead went after one of the other vehicles, they would need to revise things, and would be in for a messy fight. Brave volunteers readied their weapons as the Titan''s thundering footsteps drew it closer to them all. It kept pace for a moment, then stomped forward out in front of them. The guardian didn''t follow it. Instead, it shot out sideways at the truck on the far side of the curve from Reid and Sara. It''s claws glowed blue and it ripped through the side of the truck. A tire split and flung its pieces in all directions. The broken wheel dug into the dirt and flung some of the passengers out of the back, and through the air. The sudden change in momentum caught the guardian in surprise, and it had to skid itself to a stop before it returned to the vehicle. Non-enhanced claws raked through the cab and mangled the doors shut. The driver didn''t get out. Reid and the others had to slow and turn around to reach their team members now standing on the ground. It wasn''t quick enough. They peppered the beast with arrows and spears. They sunk weapons into flesh near joints and even got one hit in on its neck - but for all their fighting, the beast was more. More violent. More speed. More reach. They fought, and they died. The guardian stood above their corpses and healed itself with pulsing blue light. The three remaining trucks barreled towards it. Reid was the first one to put feet on the ground. He leapt out of the truck bed and sprinted towards the beast. The last thing he wanted was for it to focus on the vehicles instead of the attackers. If they lost their mobility, they could fail to kill the Crimson Titan - or worse, they could end up stuck on the wrong side of the second wall. The guardian followed him with its eyes and let out a low growl as it surveyed the rest of the humans that were now moving towards it on foot. Ranged fighters struck first, with arrows and a pair of spears. The tips of the projectiles did little to sink into the guardian''s flesh. But they still didn''t let up. Any distraction or moment of opportunity that damage could buy was worth every bit of effort it took to deal it. Reid lunged forward, and took a claw to his pauldron that spun him sideways. He managed to jump out of the way of the next one, and stabbed forward towards the creature''s torso. It put its claws in the way, and Reid skidded to a stop so he wouldn''t chip his weapon on the tough crystal. He swung out again and managed to get a glancing blow off its forearm that slightly limited its movement. The natural healing speed of the guardian wasn''t any faster than the normal salamanders, but it still healed. Around him, attackers joined in the melee with targeted, opportunistic strikes. They rushed in or rushed by the creature, past raging claws and a deadly set of teeth. Some weren''t fast enough. Others misjudged their timing. Blood and broken bits of armor littered more and more of the ground. They were fighting a minor war of attrition between the wounds they could inflict and what the salamander could naturally heal. It didn''t try to use its healing skill - or at least it hadn''t yet. The guardian moved itself as the fight progressed, ever keeping its focus towards Reid, and it did everything it could to keep its chin tucked close to its neck. The salamanders weren''t dumb. They''d seen how Reid had killed many of their compatriots, and they were doing what they could to prevent themselves from joining the dead.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. Requiem smashed into flesh. It tore and cratered the creature''s limbs, but its speed and agility kept him from landing any decisive blows. Then, Sara joined the fray. Reid was a bruiser. For all his bluster at James''s good natured taunting about being a barbarian, he lacked any sort of finesse in his fighting style. His dodges, blows, and every other movement were large and powerful - and that was about it. The style made him good at dealing damage to slow things in wide open spaces, but held him back in any sort of restricted space or against a skilled enemy. The wall fight against the elite and the fact that he''d only killed the guardian by tanking a blow had proven that. It was a major weakness he needed to resolve. Sara lacked that weakness. She was a tempest of violence that danced with the beast. When it swung, she moved herself slightly out of its range, then surged forward to land her strikes before again slipping away. Every movement and action was full of grace, and power. Queen''s Edge dug deep into the Guardian''s flesh, and smacked against bone. She was locked in a close battle with the guardian, and left little room for anyone to join. Only a handful of their fellow attackers dared to dart in and land opportunistic strikes. Reid wasn''t certain he could land a blow without potentially putting her in danger of getting hit by the attack. And - she didn''t exactly look like she needed help. Sara may have had less raw power than Reid, but she was massively more effective in how she applied it. Every swing was balanced and intentional in a way Reid could barely begin to grasp. He started to realize something. If Sara had been with him on the outer wall, they might''ve gotten all the elites. They may have even been able to hold the line. His daughter was just as effective on the field as he was - or maybe even more effective than him. Despite her infighting with the guardian, it had yet to land a blow on her, and she was amassing a good amount of damage on the creature. Reid saw its claws brighten, and started to shout out a warning - but Sara had been even faster to respond. She had already tucked herself and rolled out of the claw''s reach. Two of their supporters weren''t as lucky. One had the tips of the claws split through the middle of his face. The other was killed when his torso split into pieces. Sara was closer to the guardian than she''d been during the entire fight. One arm was debuffed and moving slowly, but the other was still free - and that presented an opportunity. Reid rushed forward and slammed Requiem''s tip into the guardian''s shoulder to incapacitate the mobile arm. The salamander lifted its head to try and bite at the man hanging off the weapon buried in its shoulder, and Sara went for the kill. Queen''s edge punctured up into the salamander''s jaw, and traveled straight through to the top of its head. The familiar sound of bone impacting crystal told everyone that Sara''s sword had carved through to the top of the thing''s head. She spun her hand at the wrist in a swirling motion, and pulled her hand and sword free of the now-dead creature. Its body hit the ground with a thud like a fallen tree, and relieved cheers went up in the attacking group. A chorus of screeching wails sounded out from the outer wall - but Reid didn''t hear any approaching footsteps. The ones at the outer wall were angry - and knew somehow that one of theirs was dead, but they were still staying put. The one salamander they could see was the Crimson Titan. Reid imagined that it gave him and the others a deathly stare before going back to its chase. Wounded - and the dead - were loaded into a single vehicle, and sent back towards the second wall. The remaining healthy attackers crammed themselves into the final two pickups. They drank water and recentered themselves while on the move towards the next fight. The big fight. In the back of their beautifully loud lifted Chevy, men and women shouted over the engine to congratulate Sara on bringing the guardian down. She nodded, and smiled in grim satisfaction. It didn''t reach her eyes.
+> Sara <+ For the past few hours - or days? She wasn''t sure at this point - Sara''s nerves were a bundle of frayed and burnt twine. Pathfinder had overwhelmed her with a mass of possibilities that fell down on her head like lead raindrops. Every thought or concept or desire brought her a different direction and different possibility and different understanding. Her mind still felt like mush, and it was only when Marlene had started helping her to write things down that she''d been able to avoid the what-if questions that led her down another line of questioning, and back into the lead rain. So she''d gotten used to it. The overwhelming feeling. She''d gotten better at working through dozens and hundreds of decision points and outcomes and feelings and desires, and had been able to focus - to really focus - on the ones that mattered. On the outcomes that were really in her heart''s desire. When they''d attacked the guardian, the overwhelming force and knowledge and understanding came back and threatened her again. She could save her father from getting clawed in the stomach, or the eye, or the arm. She could help Terry and Belinda - or they could die. Every instant and action was a tree of potential that stretched out for miles and miles. People had gotten hurt and worse while she worked to get herself back under control. Once she did, she worked hard to make up for it, and pushed in close to the danger. But danger was okay. Everything was okay. It would be. It had to be. Sara couldn''t run. If she did, everyone would die. It was a plain, cold truth. Every path lead to devastation and death. Every single outcome, save one. An option that had only opened itself recently. If Sara didn''t run from the Titan - if she stayed and fought - she felt... nothing. The absence of her skill''s familiar pulls and tugs and pushes and direction made her feel like she was experiencing the world through a woolen wall. But it was, at least, different. If everyone else ran, things might be fine. If she ran now, everyone would die. But she could endure, and stay, and fight - and maybe die. If every known path ended in death, Sara would walk in the dark. CH60: Crimson TItan The pair of manned pickups flew through Sanctuary, over grassy flats and dirt roads. They caught up with Toby and Lowell''s looping path in minutes, and the next phase of the plan began. Toby had the Titan focused on him, and no one was quite certain what would happen if he let the skill go and the beast was allowed to freely make decisions. The first option made sure that didn''t happen. They would put the trucks between Toby and the rest, and Reid would try to draw its attention by dealing it damage. If the beast stopped, they would all fight it without Toby lifting his skill. If the salamander ignored the present danger and still chased after Toby - they''d have him drop his skill and do their best to surround the creature. In both cases, the vehicles would stay close to deliver them to safety if needed - and the third would come back to do the same once the wounded in it were clear. Getting around the beast was no easy feat. They had to wait for a longer stretch of the planned route, and even then they nearly missed the passing window to put themselves between Toby and the Titan. Up close, Reid could see he was sweating heavily, and his complexion had started to pale. It was the telltale early sign of skill overexertion, and Reid made a call. There was no guarantee the Titan would stop and engage them. If it didn''t, they''d need more time to get back in pace with it. Reid wasn''t sure if Toby would be able to keep things up that long - and he didn''t want to see what would happen if the man''s taunt dropped at an inopportune time, when there weren''t people around to engage the beast. Reid signaled the other truck, and shouted out to the others in the bed with him - then he signaled Toby. He had their group slow, just a little, before it happened. As soon as the taunt dropped, the Crimson Titan skidded to a halt, and the trucks slammed on their brakes to match. Reid hopped out of the back, and looked up at the beast. It was the closest he''d been to the thing, even during the moving chase. It let out an angry, snarling growl that shook Reid''s chest. Lips parted to show off hooked teeth the size of Reid''s arms. There were bits of dried blood and debris at the base of each one. Its eyes burned like swirling lava, and shook with hatred as it shifted focus over each member of the attacker group. Massive hands curled menacing, four-foot-long crystalline claws in violent anticipation. It shifted on its feet, but didn''t take a single step. The flecks of crystal that dotted its skin caught in the sunlight like facets on a jewel, and the moving shimmers felt like they were playing tricks on Reid''s eyes. A glowing crystal crown grew out of the top of its head, thicker and larger than the guardian''s. Its massive, looming frame cast a long and thick shadow over the ground. It cast defenders in shade as they spread out to surround the creature. The beast tucked its chin like a boxer, and splayed its claws out at its sides as it bared its teeth in a mock bow at Reid. Just like the other salamanders had done when they attempted to fight him in single combat. This goddamn lizard. The Titan had all but refused to fight him one on one at the start of the entire ordeal, and now it wanted to engage in some sort of honorable fight? Fuck that. They''d assembled the team here with the sole intent to kill this thing, and Reid wasn''t going to waste time or their efforts by taking the thing on by himself. They''d killed the guardian together, and they would take down this big red asshole together, too. Reid frowned and flipped off the Titan with his left hand, then signaled the archers to fire. Bows twanged and bone-tipped arrows hit the beast from three sides. They barely sunk into its flesh. One bounced off a crystal fleck on the Titan''s skin with a ''clink''. It cocked its head and spun to give the ranged fighters an indignant look. Then it sprinted for the closest archer. Reid gave chase, and swung his mace out sideways at the beast''s tail to try and get its attention. It sunk itself halfway into the swinging appendage, and the tail''s motion lifted Reid off the ground before he dislodged his weapon. Others advanced and tried to draw the creature''s focus, but it ignored them and closed on the archer. He was an older man - one of Marysa''s fellow coaches - with a receding hairline and bright grey eyes. He roared and fired his bow, then brought out a bone sword from his belt when the beast got in close. The Titan lifted a leg, and crushed him with a single stomp. It hadn''t even bothered to use its claws - just stepped down like it was getting rid of a pest. Reid felt the anger rise into the back of his neck. This fucking lizard had to die. It turned towards another archer, but Reid was already in motion. He sprinted and put himself between the man and the beast. Its swirling orange eyes bored through him, and charged forward. The ground shook under Reid''s feet as its thunderous footfalls neared him. It swung out, and Reid brought Requiem up to meet its arm. The mace hit it just below the inside of the wrist, and mangled a good amount of flesh on impact, then more when Reid slid his weapon down to get it free. The Titan screeched and plunged its other claws into the earth, then flung massive amounts of dirt - and Reid - into the air. His challenge had opened up the beast for other attacks, and Reid saw the melee fighters stab and slash at its legs before he even hit the ground. The Titan whirled on them, and sent its massive claws into the brave fighters. They erupted in screams and blood.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Reid got back to his feet, and closed in again. Requiem found purchase on the Titan''s legs, arms, and lower torso, but nothing seemed to slow it down. It kept pushing the attackers back, and dwindling down their number. The fight continued. It attacked, they responded. They dealt damage, and it killed their forces. Some of the first wounds they''d inflicted on its legs were visibly starting to heal. They needed more opportunities. Small openings that could lead to big ones. If they could get just a single good one, they could hit it in the head and end the fight. Just one, with enough reach. The idea of it felt so close, and tangible, but at the same time, so far from reach. Part of that was literal. The beast''s head was still far above them, and Reid would need to leap up just to land a blow on the thing''s skull. They fought on. Sara darted in and landed ever-effective slashing strikes. She focused on the same area of the same leg, over - and over - and over. While the rest of their group just tried to deal damage, Sara''s blows accumulated into real injuries for the beast. She methodically carved into the skin all around the Titan''s ankle until there was a deep ringed cut, and blood flowed freely from the wound. Renewed energy surged through the group as they saw the damage. They all saw and felt it - they could turn the tide. Reid shifted his focus to add to Sara''s effort, and cleaved open the cuts wherever he could. They carved deeper and deeper, until they started hitting bone. The Titan lashed out with both claws in a spinning strike that rotated its entire body. It wheeled with a massive amount of momentum, and continued to spin after it planted both feet. The beast let out a pained low growl as the flesh and bone around its wound strained and ripped under the force of its own movement - then its leg snapped off at the ankle. It teetered, and caught its fall with an arm. The attackers didn''t waste the chance. Sara sprinted towards the Titan''s head. Reid lunged forward at the beast''s other arm, and brought his mace down like he was trying to drive a railroad tie into the ground. It slammed into the Titan''s limb and smacked it into the ground. Others piled on to restrict its movements. With one arm bracing it from falling over, and the other limited by attacks, they had their first real opening of the fight. Sara leapt into the air and kicked off the Titan''s arm like a springboard as she launched herself at the side of its face. Sara drove Queen''s edge straight into the Titan''s eye. The salamander flinched and twisted its neck as the blade bit into it, but Sara didn''t let that stop her. She pushed harder in until her arm started to disappear into the salamander''s skull. And then, it stopped with a clink. It was a noise Reid knew all too well from his recent fights. The sound of bone hitting crystal was distinct, like tapping on a giant wine glass. Sara pulled her arm back and pushed again. Another clink. She swirled her blade around inside the beast, and it clattered across solid crystal. The crystal had been a growing issue. Elites had lines of the hard material on their skulls that made them harder to kill. The guardians were even more protected. Reid had assumed the Titan''s version of the protection was simply more complete and rigid than the others. That the growth up and out of its head was where most of the difference lay. He was so very wrong. The crystal growth grew down far enough to shield the Titan''s brain from penetration through its eye socket, which meant Sara didn''t have the kill. And now she was vulnerable, partially buried in the Salamander''s skull. The Titan curled its tail towards its wounded side to stabilize itself, and lifted its now-free arm that had been holding it up. Its claws glowed with blue light, and the long crystal moved so fast it blurred. It whipped around and back at Sara like it was trying to brush a hair off its cheek. Sara''s head lifted and shook in a silent gasp. One claw had missed low. The next split through her leg just below the knee. The third was through the side of her ribcage and out the middle of her stomach. The last carved a hole through the front of her neck. Reid surged forward as he screamed in grief and rage. The Titan''s claws stopped glowing, and it sluggishly flung Sara out with a flick of its wrist. Reid shifted towards her, and pushed power into his legs. He dropped Requiem, and caught her ragdolling body in his arms. There was so much damage, and she was already bleeding. Reid needed to move, now, or his daughter was going to die. He turned to their vehicles, and sprinted for the waiting truck. He screamed for it to move as he closed in, and leapt into the bed while it gained speed. His momentum carried him into the back of the cab, and the center window shattered as metal bent around Reid''s back. Moving figures receded as the rest of the defenders limped and ran for the other two pickups. The Titan watched them leave. The truck''s engine roared. Reid braced himself against the wheel well to keep his daughter stable through the bumpy terrain, and held her close. Blood coated his hands and seeped through the cracks in his armor. Sara gasped for breaths that came through the hole in her throat. Blood bubbled. Her hands grabbed out at Reid in frenzied, pleading motions. They looked for help and comfort. Reid''s heart broke and ached, and he cradled her against his chest as he shouted at the driver to go faster. He shed bone armor off himself, and tore off his sleeve to wrap it around Sara''s neck. It wicked up the red liquid and soaked through, then dripped the excess down onto Reid''s arms. He tore off more cloth and packed it around and into wounds as best he could. She was losing too much blood. She''d lost too much already. Reid''s heartbeat hammered in his head and he had to force himself to stop hyperventilating. The truck started to slow as they neared the wall. Reid lifted up his daughter and stood. Her breathing grew fainter with every exhale, and her eyes had started to go glassy. Her fingers weakly grabbed for his neck, and her lips trembled in an attempt to speak. Reid grabbed his strengthening thread, and sent every bit of power he could manage to his legs. He sailed forward, up out of the truck and sprinted the remaining distance to the wall, then leapt up to where Susan should have been. It felt like someone had stabbed a thousand molten needles into his overworked leg muscles, but he pushed through the pain. He shouted his wife''s name at the top of his lungs, but it was Danny who arrived. His eyes went wide at the bloody cloth wrapped around Sara''s neck, and his face paled in a grim frown. "SAVE HER! HEAL HER!" Reid cradled his daughter''s head in his hands as he screamed at the healer. Images of Louis''s broken and cold body flashed through his mind and threatened to plunge him into despair. This wasn''t the same. It wasn''t. Louis had already been dead. Sara was still alive. Her chest still moved, even with the massive effort of every breath. Her blood soaked through her clothing and the improvised bandages Reid had wrapped around her, but she was still warm. Her heart was beating. She could be healed. She had to be. Danny flinched at Reid''s words for just a moment. And then his hands glowed. CH 61: Disagreement . James . James watched, helplessly, as the splintered attack group approached the wall. His walkie talkie had been a source of excited chatter from one of the drivers that crescendoed into an incredible moment where they all thought the Titan was dead. Stabbing anything through the eye was generally a good way to put it down - or at least to reduce its mobility. And, so far, it had been one of the primary ways the defenders - his defenders - had been trained to put down beasts. It was one of the things he''d trained into Sara while they drilled sword stances, again and again. He wasn''t a real master, he knew. There was a major difference between being good enough to train people, and true mastery. James knew enough to help people and improve their motions, but he was never the person that could take an underperforming fighter and turn them into something great. He didn''t see every flaw and detail like some of the people he''d worked with, or trained under. Had he missed something in the salamander''s movements? Was there more he could have learned, or seen, or imparted? Was Sara injured because of their foe, or because James hadn''t given her enough attention to keep her alive? The nagging questions swirled in his head as the crowd around him shared complex and concerned faces. They''d all heard the fight, reported in the driver''s halting play-by-play rendition. Sara had proved exceptional against the guardian, and had taken the thing out somewhat easily, by all accounts. James - and everyone else - had all but expected her to slay the Titan the moment they heard she''d entered the fray. They cheered on the injuries Sanctuary''s people dealt to the beast, and hoped the dead weren''t people they knew. The salamanders weren''t dumb. That was for damn sure. Where the waves may have had beasts that seemed frenzied to get to the defenders and that threw themselves blindly into danger, the elites, guardians, and the Titan itself were a different class of monster altogether. They planned and strategized and communicated in ways the others didn''t. So it wasn''t surprising that the Titan had made itself look more incapacitated than it was. That was doubly true if it didn''t feel threatened by the attackers that surrounded it. If the Titan had led Sara and the others into a trap, then it was effectively using the same strategy as the guardian that nearly killed Reid. Fake debilitation, then retaliate with an empowered strike. James should have seen that coming. He should have warned Sara and Reid and everyone else in that damn group to stay cautious and not trust the beast. It was on him, as one of Sanctuary''s commanders and as the combat expert, to identify threats and see to it that they were in the best position to deal with those dangers. Sara''s broken, barely moving body flashed through his vision. He''d only gotten a glimpse from a distance, before Reid had launched himself, his girl, and Danny forward towards the tents set up in last stand field. Susan was on her way to help her daughter, and nearly the entire medical team was on hand dressing and closing wounds while Danny used his skill. James swallowed. He''d let Louis get killed, and he''d left Reid with Bertrand. Despite what the man said or forgave, those facts didn''t disappear, they just occupied a deeper part of his mind. And right now, James was dredging the depths. He couldn''t stop himself - there was just too much he felt responsible for and helpless to change. The vehicles reached the wall, and those inside either climbed or were pulled up the face of the wall. They were panting and injured. One clattered violently as he came over the edge, and James realized it was the sound of bone weapons colliding against each other. With a closer inspection, James realized it was Reid''s mace, and Sara''s sword. Queen''s Edge was missing the top three inches of its tip, and deep cracks ran down the length of the blade. Reid''s bone was absurdly sturdy. The only thing capable of damaging it that they''d found so far were the crystalline growths of the salamanders. It was confirmation, and condemnation. If they couldn''t penetrate into the Titan''s skull and get to its brain, it was unkillable. Maybe they could find a way to drown it, or burn it to death, but options and resources to accomplish that were slim. He couldn''t ask the people next to him to fight against something they couldn''t kill. He wouldn''t. James ground his teeth, and flipped on his bullhorn. "Everyone, listen up. We have enough traps out here to slow the beasts down, and that''s what we need to do. The convoy is all but gone, now. The only vehicles left are the ones we have ready to transport all of us. We''ve already lost enough people today. We do what we can to kill the wave if it comes, and then we all get out of here, understand? I want all officers to start making plans on how you''ll have an organized retreat. This place is just land - there''s plenty more. I''ll give the signal when its time to fall back." No one else needed to die today.
+ Reid + Reid wasn''t a stranger to hospitals. He''d seen family and friends grow old, or get injured, and had sat by bedsides and held hands in solidarity with those he''d cared about, and lost. Those experiences had given him a notion of what should happen, and what shouldn''t happen when someone he loved was hurt. Beeping machines were good. They meant everything was alright. Even if they beeped slowly, or they sent an alarm. A warning would ding, and a nurse would check on things, and then the beeping would continue. Whether good, or bad - the beeping let everyone know that everything was going okay - or at least that things weren''t going wrong. You could see IV bags and wires and leads and monitors with their faint green lines or an LCD screen that turned a person''s health into a series of colored columns - like they were printer ink that hadn''t quite run dry.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Reid wished there were beeping now. He wanted some sign - any indication of what was going on. The absence of it flicked against his mind. Susan shuddered and pulled her hands back. She gave Danny a nod, and stepped away from the cot. "She''s okay? Why isn''t she waking up? What do you need to finish healing her?" The words spilled out of Reid''s mouth in a flood of repressed emotion. Her eyes were red with strain, and her voice had that raspy quality it always got when she overexerted herself. "I have to take a break or I''m going to burn out. She''s..." Susan''s eyes went to the top of the tent and she took a shuddering breath. "She''s not good, Reid. She suffered massive blood loss and trauma to multiple parts of her body that did a lot of damage - even with how quickly you got her back here to heal. Her..." Susan swallowed twice. "That much blood loss means not enough oxygen gets to organs, and that makes the organs fail. Even though we''ve got her wounds stable and she''s breathing by herself again... that damage doesn''t go away. And her level - or constitution means its taking a lot of energy to heal her - just like you. But either way, it means we''re doing what we can to fight back against her body shutting down one major organ at a time. It''s not going to be a quick process - and we have to keep checking on her brain activity. The hypoxia lasted long enough that she definitely has damage there, and I can heal that - but its secondary to her organs right now. She''s going to stay unconscious until we have that under control. and we''re doing what we can to ensure she comes out of this okay." "How long until she''s stable?" Susan gave a helpless, hollow-eyed shrug with her hands. "A day? It depends on what we can accomplish. If we''re both working, we can make better progress but we have to switch off. If we just had a third healer..." Marlene stepped forward and thumbed a radio to call the RV column. "I need anyone with a healing skill. No matter the level, find them and get them back here." She didn''t wait for an answer. Instead, she looked to Susan, then Sara, then Reid. "Can she be moved?" "Slowly and carefully, yes." Susan said reluctantly. "I''d like to get her in a better state before we do it, though." Marlene nodded, then picked a walkie talkie off her belt. "James, how are things there?" James was still on the 2nd wall, in charge of leading the defense, or delay. The hope was Mark''s traps would make things more of a fair fight this time around. "No movement, but Marlene - when the attack comes, we''ll slow them down, and then run. There''s no reason to die here when we know we can get away from the danger. For now, everyone is well stocked, and we''ve set up a decent number of evacuation slides. We won''t have a repeat of what happened before." Marlene frowned. "Sara''s situation is still delicate. She needs more time before we move her. And the column isn''t far enough away for us to fully outrun the salamanders. I think you need to hold the wall, not focus on the run." "Time, or time time? Honeybadger, if we can''t kill the Titan we can''t win. I''d rather do a fighting retreat than get bowled over. And I''m not going to have more people die here if I can help it." "Just regular time for now. We''ll figure something out." She flipped the power on the unit off and looked at Susan. "Plan for the worst and get her ready to move. We can''t delay this if the defenders are already looking for the exit." She looked to Reid. "And I''m not sure if I can blame them. Is that thing even killable?" Reid turned his weapon in his hand. In the commotion of getting Sara out of danger, he''d dropped it on the battlefield. Someone had picked it up and brought it back for him, along with a very-damaged Queen''s Edge. Bone had once again splintered against the crystal. "I... I honestly don''t know. I''m going to try stabbing up and hope I can hit the brain from underneath but - there''s a chance that doesn''t work either." Marlene scowled. "So let''s say we probably can''t kill it. They''ve got one guardian, three elites, and sixteen-hundred regulars left after the big one we can''t do anything about, and we already know they''re faster than vehicles at low speeds. So if we run, if all the defenders run, they''re going to get into a traffic jam as soon as they catch up with the end of the column''s tail, and then the beasts are going to catch up anyway." Reid stared at Danny leaned over his daughter. His hands seemed to pulse with light. "Unless - unless we get them distracted long enough that they don''t chase the vehicles." Marlene narrowed her eyes. "You sound like you''re about to say something stupid, Reid." Reid pursed his lips and looked at his wife. "I might still be able to kill it. I know, it''s a slim chance, but if I can, I think we can win this. But we also need something to keep the beasts occupied, and I need a bit more rest before I can throw myself back into things." Susan raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I''m starting to understand my limits, thank you. But here''s my idea. We have the additional ring of traps back behind the second wall that''s going to slow stuff down. If I rest back there, and then we get Toby to call the Titan to me after the second wall retreats, I can fight it while everyone else gets away and makes some distance from the settlement." He looked at Sara. "Enough for slow-moving vehicles to not be the focus of the beasts." Marlene shook her head. "If we just need a distraction, it shouldn''t be you. Sara needs her father and Sanctuary needs you as a warrior. You should be on the same vehicle as your daughter for when things catch up." Reid drew himself up and squared his shoulders. "The Titan is massive. It''s fast, intelligent, and it heals itself. No one else is going to be remotely capable of injuring the thing. I''ll just try to slow it down. I''ll see if I can kill it. And I''ll link back up with everyone else after we know Sara and the column aren''t in danger." Susan pushed her way into the conversation. "We don''t even know if they''re going to breach the second wall! Stop making plans like we''ve already lost." Reid and Marlene shared a grim look. Marlene was the one that spoke. "The second wall isn''t going to last. Our toughest fighters are winded, and we''re still massively outnumbered. The salamanders have all of the advantages here. our traps and our defenses are just going to slow the advance. We can use that, but we need to plan realistically." She nodded to Reid. "Which is why we realistically need someone capable of slowing down or distracting the beasts to be the person that does it. I''m still our strongest aside from you and Sara. I''ll be the one to do it." "You aren''t going to last a minute, Marlene, and you know it." "No. You all go. Take Sara, get her safe. I''ll distract the Titan and you get as far away as you can. We don''t have time for this argument." Reid''s mind turned. For all her bluster, Marlene really wasn''t going to be able to stop the Titan, nor would she be able to slow it. If they could just - WARNING! You have been paralyzed for 0.5 seconds. Danny''s skill forcibly dropped as he and everyone else in the room froze. The screech blasting its way into their ears sounded different than the others had. This one was longer, louder, and angry. Thundering footsteps echoed out in the wake of the roar - followed by a massive crash of broken wood. CH 62: Broken Defense . James . Toby still looked sickly. He drank some powdered electrolyte mix from an opaque bottle, and an unlabeled empty metal can sat at his feet - probably beans. He beamed in Lowell''s direction. The idea the man had was just a little crazy, but at least it was an idea. Bone weapons were the most effective against crystal claws and the armor that covered the salamander''s heads - but so was the crystal itself. They''d used crystal-tipped spears from the weaker beasts in the past to deliver damage and kills, so it made sense to try it again now. With high enough leveled claws, they might be able to kill the Titan themselves. The only thing that had been holding them back was the availability of the resources. The elites and guardians that had been killed were all outside of their area of control - and no one was dumb enough to drive themselves into the horde just for a chance at coming back with a weapon. The latest body had been left unattended. When the Titan returned to its group, the guardian - and all of its resources - were there for the taking. James hadn''t really approved the plan. No one had. Lowell, even after wearing himself thin in the attempt to kill the beast, brought the thought up, and others jumped in to join him. It was such a potential longshot that James hadn''t even wanted to tell Marlene and the others what they were doing. But now Lowell and the volunteers had returned, and Mark was already making wooden shafts to hold the massive elite''s claws. More weapons. More tiny bits in their favor that might finally tip the scales. Marlene''s voice was tight and serious when she''d checked in. As soon as they had the claws up to the wall and secured to weapons, he''d report back to her with the good news. The plan was still that they''d be smart about when to relinquish their position, but the advanced weaponry would allow them to hold on longer. The first of the beast''s two hands was heaved up and over the top of the wall at last, and defenders jumped back when the claws splayed out. They dug into the wood, even just from being dropped. Lowell lifted his head and smiled back at Toby. He pointed to the claws with one hand and did an overzealous thumbs-up with the other. Toby snorted, and a bit of the water he''d been drinking came out his nose. He coughed at the ground. James let himself smile and took it all in. There were even more defensive squads on the wall now, and others behind, just in case more salamanders were thrown over their wooden defenses. They had plenty of vehicles to ferry them away if it was needed, and the route to and out of the rear gate was clear. Ammunition was stocked. Arrows and throwables were ready. They were a force prepared. He looked out over the section of the salamander horde he could see from his position above the gate. They still stood there, motionless. But... James realized he couldn''t see the Titan with them. Something prickled the back of his neck. The guardian was unguarded, right? The group hadn''t run into any trouble. And the Titan was back with the main force. Unless... Salamanders had proven themselves fans of deceptive tactics. Let the enemy think they have a chance, and use that to set them off balance and strike. His eyes flit between buildings and trees out ahead of them - then locked with two faint, orange swirls peering out from a thicket. It was closer to the edge of the defending squads, and James shouted for everyone to ready themselves. He made it four words in when the beast charged forward. He''d imagined how the attack group must have felt with the house-sized salamander bearing down on them. Everything rumbled as it dug into the earth and kicked off with each footfall. Archers and ranged attackers scrambled to knock arrows and throw spears. Their forces had been focused on the claws, and that meant everything happened just a bit slower than it would''ve otherwise. Bone tipped projectiles landed on the beast and sunk partway in. Ranged magic attacks seemed to bounce off the Titan''s skin. It barreled forward - straight at the wall. Alone. It slowed when it reached Mark''s wooden traps, and violently kicked them to the sides. More arrows rained down, but did little to stop the beast. It leveled a gaze at the wall - where Lowell and his volunteers were harvesting the guardian''s claws. The Titan roared, and everyone froze. All sounds of the battle died out, save for the beasts rumbling footsteps. It hurled itself forward and tucked its chin, aimed directly at Lowell. James could only see the carnage in his peripheral vision. The crash boomed out as wood snapped and splintered under the force of the beast''s charge. The claws of the guardian flew out and tore through bystanders. The Titan''s glowed as it tore into the wooden wall surrounding the breach it had created. Wood and defenders tumbled to the ground, compressed and cracked as the Titan stomped around in a circle to continue its work to widen the hole. The horde still hadn''t moved. As far away as the breach was, James had gotten hit with a piece of debris. A wood splinter the size of a carving knife stuck out of his torso. As soon as he regained himself, James tore the wood away and shouted the orders for a full retreat. Their chances at using the guardian''s claws to kill the Titan - and everyone who''d been brave enough to secure them - were gone. Others close to the breach fought back, or ran, or screamed and held their bodies that were broken and bleeding from the shrapnel of the impact. So much preparation. Training. Planning. All to be undone by a single sturdy beast. There was no killing the Titan. He''d been a fool to even consider it. They all needed to run.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. The logical side of James''s brain told him he''d experienced this before. It was the fear that drew you down with it. He did his best to put it aside, and checked those around him. Toby was slumped in his chair, with a line of red that ran from an inch above his hairline to his left cheek. Most everyone else near him was unharmed. He and Toby had apparently taken the brunt of the damage that had made it this far. James ushered them down the wooden slides, and one helped him grab Toby and guide him down. The vehicles'' engines were already running, and some were in-transit towards the rear gate. The Titan and its carnage receded, as it continued to slam claws into the wooden walls again and again. The breach was now four times as wide as the beast. Mark had been just outside the initial carnage, and sported a wealth of wounds down his flank where his own wood had bit into him. Others were the same. The retreating vehicles held a number of people that desperately needed medical attention - all while their two strongest healers were indisposed keeping Sara alive. Toby stirred, coughed, and rubbed his forehead. He propped himself up on an arm. His eyes darted around the truck bed, the other vehicles, and then back to the breach. "Where''s Lowell? Why isn''t he with us? What happened to him?" James shook his head. "I''m sorry, Toby. He was at the breach." His eyes went back to the Titan. They questioned and hoped as they scanned the ground, then hardened. Toby rolled onto his knees and tried to climb out of the truck, back towards the Titan. He roared out that he needed to do it, that he needed to make the thing pay. It took every defender in the truck to stop him.
+ Reid + The massive crash boomed out from the direction of the second wall, followed by screams and the sound of engines turning over. Reid ran outside the tent, and saw the Crimson Titan standing tall. Arrows poked out of it like a hedgehog''s bristles, but it didn''t seem to care. It picked a couch sized splinter of wood out of itself, and slammed its massive claws into the wood. It continued to wreck the wall while vehicles and defenders shot towards last stand field - and the back gate. Reid stormed back into the tent and grabbed a slack-jawed Marlene on the way inside. He stormed forward until he was at the head of the cot where Sara laid. "Susan! Danny! We have to move Sara, and we need to do it now. Marlene and I will hold her cot steady. You two keep doing what you''re doing. We''re getting her into one of the vans outside." Marlene made her way to the foot of the green fabric and lifted with Reid in unison. Susan and Danny both scrambled to keep up with them as they made their way out of the tent. "Grey sleeper van!" Marlene shouted. "It''s got the best suspension out of all of these, should be the least bumpy ride." A waiting driver opened the rear doors, and Sara was slid inside. Reid stroked his daughter''s hair with a thumb. How many hundreds of times had he put those golden strands into messy braids? Danny crouched inside the van and continued to pulse his skill. Susan gave Reid a pointed look. She was about to speak when another truck screeched to a halt nearby. A second and third followed. Drivers started to go around to evacuate wounded to the tents before they saw Danny and Susan outside. Marlene stepped between them and Sara and shouted. "The column is working on getting anyone with any healing skill to the rear. Continue on, and wait for help. There''s still a few medics close to the rear gate - they can do quick patches if you need them. There is no available magic healing here." The final sentence came out like cold iron, and Reid saw hopeful faces wilt. Some looked like they wanted to protest, but Marlene''s harsh words sent them on their way. A single truck stayed behind. The men in it shouted as they hauled a tied-up Toby out of the bed and carried him over to Susan. James split off long enough to embrace his wife and give her an apologetic smile before turning to Susan. "Please, just make him go to sleep. He lost Lowell, and he''s not well." Reid''s heart broke and mended a dozen times. Hours ago, he''d reassured Lowell that things were going to be fine. The two of them were good to each other. Good for each other. They had so much more time they should''ve gotten together. So many milestones they''d never experience. Now Toby was broken in a way Reid could understand. Losing his parents wasn''t the same as it would be to lose Susan, but the grief and anger and pain were all there. Reid wanted to try and talk to the man - offer him some sort of comfort, or help him. But Reid also needed to keep his daughter safe, and he had a plan to buy them time that took priority. Doing the right thing really is a luxury. FUCK. Reid wondered how much more of this shit he could live with. The answer was none - and it was infinite. Every sacrifice and every well-intentioned mistake ate away at his mind. But he still hadn''t found a line he wouldn''t cross for his daughter''s sake. "Bring him here." Susan gave Reid a frown, and Marlene cocked her head. The man was set on the ground below him, and Reid knelt down. "I know you''re angry Toby. You lost someone, and you''re mad, and you want revenge. I know what that feels like, and how much it can feel like you need it. And if you''re willing to listen to me, you can get it." Voices started to overlap around Reid as everyone realized he wasn''t just putting the man at ease. "I''m going to delay the Titan while everyone else gets clear. I might even kill it. But I need someone to lead it to me, and maybe to distract the other salamanders if they try to join. I need you there for the plan to work. You can help me keep it from hurting anyone else, if you''re willing to listen to what I tell you to do. Nod if you agree." Toby''s head bobbed. He untied him amidst the frantic shouts of everyone around him. The broken, grieving man gave Reid a thankful smile. CH 63: Last Stand Field Marlene looked from Toby''s smiling face to Reid. There was a sort of pained appreciation in her eyes, as if she were impressed with what he''d just done, and at the same time hated that he''d done it. Reid tried to ignore her look, and the eyes of everyone else around him. They could judge him if everyone lived through this. Marlene''s voice rang out cold and clear. "We won''t be able to hold back the other salamanders with just us and Toby. We need more people to fight." She swept her eyes over the men around them, then thumbed her radio. "This is Marlene. We''re going to stall the beasts so they don''t catch the evacuation column. We need volunteers to help." She paused and looked at Toby before continuing. "Let me be crystal clear - if you come back here to volunteer, do not expect to make it back. Our goal is to stall the creatures and then find our own way to escape the horde. No one''s safety is guaranteed. If you still want to do this, thank you. Get to the command tent ASAP. We don''t have much time." She turned off the radio again and shifted her gaze to Reid. "For the record, this is still a stupid plan." Reid didn''t miss her use of ''we'' throughout her message. It was true - having more people around to distract or delay the smaller salamanders would be beneficial, but Reid wasn''t confident of getting anyone free from the beasts but himself. If Marlene was planning on staying, she was wrong. Reid couldn''t have her die here - he needed her to keep Sara and the tail of the column safe. James was bleeding and hurt - he wasn''t a viable option. It had to be Marlene. And she needed to understand that she had to go. Some small groups of fighters were already walking or limping back towards the command tent. More headed for the rear gate. Reid stepped towards his wife and squeezed her hand twice. It meant so many things - I love you, and trust me, and we''ll get through this together. She met his eyes and squeezed back. Reid needed her on his side here. He turned back towards the growing group. "Marlene, I need you to coordinate the retreat and get defenders positioned on the column''s tail. Make sure there are enough people there to defend against anything that could catch up to you - and, of course, make sure Sara and the other vehicles stay safe." The woman frowned at Reid and Susan, then pointed her thumb at James. Her voice bubbled with venom. "My husband can do that just as well. What you need is someone here to watch your back. It''s going to be nearly impossible to get everyone coordinated right now anyway. I''ll-" Susan squeezed Reid''s hand and jumped in. "That''s exactly why you need to do it. James is hurt, and we can''t spare healing time. You have to make sure the column is good. If you don''t, Reid is going to be distracted, and worrying about the wrong things." The Titan screeched as its claws glowed again. They smashed through more and more of the wooden battlement. One of Mark''s traps was half-buried in the thing''s tail. Marlene took a breath. "We don''t have time for this. This discussion happened already, it''s not happening again. I''m staying. If you didn''t want me to, you should''ve come up with a better plan. Or, we can all leave together and just hope they don''t chase us like they have every other time." She was right. They didn''t have time. The Crimson Titan could get bored or finished with its wall-focused rampage any second, and they had no idea what the main force of the beasts was doing. Reid got Susan''s attention. "I''m sorry, Sue. I''d do it myself, but I can''t give out official orders. You have to be the one to do it." Susan trembled for a moment, then her back went rigid. "Don''t make me lose you again, Reid. Promise me." She pulled him in for a kiss, and he resisted the urge to melt into her. She blinked away tears as they separated. "I promise I''ll come back to you, Sue. I know I can make it out, no matter what happens. But she was right, we don''t have time. Take Sara and get clear away. You''ll be safer with Marlene there." Marlene''s eyes went wide, then narrowed to black points as they darted between him and Susan. "You bastard. You goddamn bastard. Don''t you fucking dare." Susan squeezed his hand twice. "Marlene, under the power granted to me through Sara''s contract with you, I order you and James to coordinate our retreat and defend the column - and to keep Sara safe." The woman, for her part, attempted to turn and walk in the direction of the second wall. She took two steps before doubling over with a pained groan. However the contract enforced behavior, it had been immediate, and strong. When she regained her composure, Marlene marched back towards the group. Reid held up his hands in a placating gesture and tried to make his voice sound soft. "You''re going to be more useful helping the column. Don''t waste any more time."The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Marlene snorted through her nose and gave him a hateful glare that softened into something else. "Useful. You''re starting to sound like me." She leaned in closer and whispered so only he and Susan could hear. "Keep your goddamn promise to your wife and come back. Sara needs you. And I owe you a thorough ass-kicking." She was already three steps away, shouting into her radio by the time the words actually settled in Reid''s brain. Everyone had heard him talking to Susan. They were surrounded by long faces and hollow eyes as more men and women than Reid expected took on the summons to fight and delay and probably die. They all looked physically and mentally exhausted. The past few days had been completely draining, and that was true for everyone. Susan''s hands glowed as healing power filtered its way into Reid. It wasn''t as much as her usual work, but it soothed some of his already-overworked muscles. She ended the quick rejuvenation session by giving his hand another squeeze, then climbed into the back of the van with Danny and Sara. She gave him a half smile that didn''t reach her eyes. "What, no goodbye kiss?" Reid half shouted with his own lopsided smile on full display as one of the bystanders closed a rear door. Susan cocked her head, and the smile reached her eyes. "Nope! I''ll give you one when you get back. Think of it as incentive!" She pulled the second door closed, and the van rumbled away. # The tail of the final retreat vehicle vanished out the back gate. Marlene was on top of it, secured to the luggage racks. Reid was mostly certain she''d given him the finger as her van disappeared beyond the wall. One thing down. With that section of vehicles away, They just needed to delay long enough to ensure that the main group had gotten far enough away to no longer get caught or noticed by the beasts. Simple, in theory. Especially if the Titan continued its hyperfocused destruction on the wall. Not content to just break more of the wall down, it had stomped the remains of the structure into the earth below. The field - aptly nicknamed weeks ago - was as ready as it could be. Mark''s traps were set like rings in front of a series of camper trailers and other vehicles that would serve as improvised towers archers could shoot from. Warriors were stationed with the ranged fighters to press back anything that got close enough to enter melee with the volunteers. Reid hoped the traps would slow the beasts long enough to give the archers time to wipe them out. A few of the volunteers were stationed close to the rear wall. If the salamanders did make it past the rest of the defenses in the field, their job would be to hold them from getting out of the settlement as long as possible. They were vulnerable until they climbed, and they would have to fight the monsters to a standstill once they got in position. No place was good, but Reid liked the idea of that the least. He stood clad in hastily-reattached bone armor. A freshly grown gauntlet covered his left hand. He held Requiem against the ground. Reid''s place was the front line. Out ahead of the traps and far from the command center at the center of the field. The space around him was mostly grass, save for an odd patch of dirt that looked like a worn down walking path. Toby was behind him, waiting for the signal to use his taunt on the Titan. He had an ATV he''d then use to pace ahead of the other Salamanders as he tried to kite them around, or at least to keep them off of Reid. His warhammer was strapped to the handlebars. There were only a handful of running vehicles left inside the walls. Three ATVs and a pair of dirtbikes, along with one rusted truck, and two old, large SUVs. It wasn''t enough to get all of their volunteers to safety, but that didn''t matter. No one that was still in the field had any misconceptions about what they were all doing. One of the forward teams was made up entirely of 20-somethings. Some were wearing rings - all wore dead looks on their faces. He didn''t need to ask - he''d seen some of them around. They''d been camping to celebrate two engagements in their friend group - the attacks on the walls ripped away their chances at a happy future. They, and Toby, and everyone else had similar mindsets. It felt to Reid like he was standing amongst an army that was already dead - just waiting for the world to catch up to that reality. The walkie talkie on Toby''s hip chirped, and Reid heard Walt''s voice come over the speaker. "Toby, I''m coming back to get you. I just heard about Lowell, and I''m sorry. Don''t do anything rash." He stared down at the plastic box like he had just realized he could use it. "Hey, Walt. I''m sorry I wasn''t a better brother. I let you down, a lot. But I''m good with this. It''s what I want." "Stop that - you''re great. You''re fine. Just... you''ve done enough today. Alright? You can run. You should run." Toby looked out at the Titan. "So, I know I told you that Lowell and I were already planning on where to get married even though we aren''t engaged, right? Well, we''d made a lot of plans, you know. He was a real romantic. His grand plan had us growing old together, and having one of those houses with an open porch and rocking chairs. We''d drink tea and rock and talk and argue about crossword puzzles in the newspaper. And when that was over - we''d get buried, side by side." As Toby kept talking, Reid squeezed his eyelids together and wiped the tears away from his face. He hadn''t hit the line, but it felt like he was closer than ever. The volunteers here all expected to die. No matter Reid''s success or failure in taking down the Titan, there was a good chance none of the others would survive. They weren''t as strong or well-armored as he was, and they all knew it. Saving the column may have been the reason they were here - but that had never been Reid''s true priority. His goal was always Sara - and the fact that he was willing to trade the lives of dozens of people just to buy her time pressed against him like a thorn. Back at the wall, the Titan screeched and popped, and Reid heard the distant rumble of hundreds of feet. The Titan''s army was on the move. "Toby, taunt it now!" Reid called back. "Take care of the kids for me. They still need a lot of help. Love you, bro." Toby turned off the unit before Walt had a chance to respond, and focused on the Titan. It stopped its vocalizing long enough to look towards them, and then let out an angry screech as it rushed forward. Reid tightened his grip on his mace, and hefted it into both hands. He just needed an opening. One he''d have to make himself. CH 64: Openings Fear threatened to build in Reid''s stomach. He pushed it down and hardened his resolve. He could fight this thing alone. He could win if he worked for it. As long as he fought hard enough, he could make an opening. Or, he could get away. But his preference was the fight. The win. Toby''s skill did its work as the creature came straight towards him. Bits of red became visible at the wall breach behind the Titan, and Reid found himself hoping that the things would be too stupid to advance. They milled about and started moving forward through the gap in the wood. Small salamanders looked at the elites, and the elites looked to the guardian. The guardian stared at Toby and Reid. Pops and screeches set the smaller salamanders in motion, and the guardian took off behind the Titan in a dead sprint. This... wasn''t ideal, but it was one of the possibilities they''d planned for. Now they just had to hope Toby and the others would take the attention to keep the bulk of the enemy forces away from Reid. The ATV rumbled to life, and Reid shared a nod with Toby. He dropped the taunt on the Titan, and sped off out to the side. There was less room to run and fewer safe paths to take with the beasts emerging into the space. Reid hoped Toby would be able to keep the thing off himself long enough to let Reid finish his work. The Titan loomed above him - angry, seemingly at again being forced under the influence of a skill. Its swirling orange eyes burned at Reid and it let out a growl. Reid answered with a roar, and charged forward. Rage-fueled strength surged throughout the muscles in his entire body, and he hefted Requiem above his head and brought it down hard in an arcing blow aimed at the Titan''s arm. It plunged partway down, then halted against a crystal growth. The Titan shoved him up and away, and Reid stumbled as he regained his footing on the landing. The beast advanced, claws out and swinging. Reid evaded, barely, by staying two steps or one large jump away from its range at nearly all times. He let himself be pushed by the Titan''s assault and pulled it into a wide, circular motion that took the both of them through the field. The guardian ran past the two of them, hot in pursuit of Toby. In some glorious miracle, the smaller salamanders that reached them steered well clear of the fight between Reid and the Titan, and even parted behind him as he retreated out of the way of its blows. If Reid weren''t in a life-or-death situation, he would''ve spent more time wondering about the beasts'' rules and etiquette. The smaller salamanders flooded towards the volunteers perched on their improvised platforms. Many had gotten themselves impaled on or tangled in Mark''s traps, and there was a bit of a squirming wall developing where the beasts were having trouble getting past each other. That didn''t mean the volunteers were free and clear, though. There were over 1,600 salamanders still alive, and they pushed through and over their brethren to reach the humans firing at them from afar. Kills and losses counters ticked upwards. A single level 10 launched itself forward atop the backs of other beasts, and its wide swipe killed one archer and knocked a man holding a rifle to the ground where he perished. A group of salamanders that had arrows sticking out of their arms - but none in their heads - tore into and through the base of one of the tow-behind campers. The roof collapsed, and the people that had been atop the thing died inside the wreckage. Beasts slumped over or fell back as short-range bodkin point shots drilled through skulls and ended them. The better fighters lashed out with spears and melee weapons to secure kills as the things reached the edges of their platforms. The worse ones stayed away from the edges, and only fought once salamanders had already climbed up to meet them. Those groups didn''t last very long. Towards the rear, volunteers for back-gate defense had moved themselves from the ground to the wall. They fought hard against a handful of beasts that had made it through the rest of the defenses - including one elite. Reid saw it go after one of the ladders. The next time he could spare a glance, it was on the wall ending lives. His fight with the Titan wasn''t going much better. If he slipped up, even for a moment, he''d pay for it. Even the glances around him were an unnecessary risk. It was just hard to not keep an eye on things. Each time its claws lashed out, Reid felt the power emanating through them. They carved through the ground with ease, and the one time smaller salamanders hadn''t cleared out of the way of their fight, the Titan carved straight through them like a hot knife through styrofoam. Reid tried to lead it into the surrounding beasts again as a way to thin their numbers, but they quickly scurried out of the way. The only bonus from the action was that it forced some of the things away from the slowly-thinning volunteers. The battle continued. Vicious swipes from the creature barely missed him each time he landed a blow, and he was already sweating with strain. Anger and strength flowed through Reid. He dodged, and struck opportunistic blows. The Titan''s legs turned bloody as cuts accumulated, and the lazy ring he was pulling the salamander through had started to get slick with its lost blood. But he couldn''t just bleed the thing dry - or at least he was pretty sure he couldn''t. Reid was dealing damage, but nothing decisive nor momentum-changing like Sara''s targeted removal of a limb. Reid worked towards the same strategy, but the thing had started to better guard that leg.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Instead, Reid had another idea. Every salamander he''d fought had extensively used its tail in either combat or to help it move around the battlefield. If he could take off the thing''s tail, there was a decent chance it could help create the opening he sought. Reid let his anger boil and his muscles suffer under the strain as he shifted himself to rounding the creature''s blows and getting his own in on the thing''s rear appendage. It attempted to shift its focus on blocking both legs and its tail at once, but it couldn''t pin Reid down every time. He punished it with more and deeper cuts on both legs, and a growing bloody gouge in the top of its tail, close to the base. On the platforms, gunshots and shouts rang out. The volunteers had fallen back to the once ''command center'', and were ardently fighting off an endless tide of red flesh and crystal claws. The elite on the wall had decimated nearly all of the people there before it was put down. Its body sat there with a spear embedded in the eye. Reid''s vision tunneled as he concentrated on the task. Minutes and motions blurred together as the fight dragged on, moment by moment. When the gouge in the Titan''s tail was nearly two thirds of the way through, Reid decided it was time. They hadn''t needed to cut all the way through its leg to get it to fall, so the same should be true for anything else it needed to put weight on. Reid got one more good hacking blow into the wounded tail, then did something new. He waited for an opening that he''d normally use to hit the tail, and went for a leg instead. Requiem slammed into the back of the salamander''s knee with every bit of strength he could call - and drove it a half step forward. It stumbled and overcorrected, then instinctually flexed its tail to catch its bulk. The beast let out an ear-splitting cry as its tail folded under the strain. Its monstrous form tilted and tipped, then slammed onto the ground with a thunderous boom. He''d done it. The Titan''s white belly was exposed to the sunlight and its already-wounded legs were splayed out half useless. Its arms were still technically mobile - but that was a risk Reid was willing to deal with. This was the moment - the single opening he''d worked so hard to achieve. He wouldn''t waste it. Reid climbed atop the Titan''s belly in two swift steps, and sprinted up towards its neck with Requiem''s spiked tip aimed at the Titan''s lower jaw. His mace slowed considerably as it stabbed up into the beast''s flesh. Reid willed it to continue inch by excruciating inch. Just a bit farther up. Just enough to kill the beast. He was so close. Reid twisted his heels to solidify his footing on the Titan''s neck. His muscles screamed under the strain and he felt his calf tear itself apart as he tried to force himself up into the beast. Sweat stung his eyes and clouded his vision. The Titan''s blood spilled from the wound and split into two rivulets that ran down opposite sides of its throat. He saw one of the things arms stir and start to rise. Reid screamed with effort as he forced his body to work harder than it ever had before. More power. More effort. He was so close, and it didn''t matter if he tore himself apart so long as he could kill the beast. His mace''s momentum halted with a clink. Reid''s eyes went wide and his stomach dropped. He thrust the weapon up again, over and over, and each time the clink rang out like a funeral bell. He''d bargained for an unprotected area under its brain, but the lizard''s crystal barrier encased its entire weak point. No. No no no no no. It can''t end like this. It isn''t right. I won. I goddamn won. The Titan lifted an arm, and backhanded Reid away with a devastating flick of its wrist. He saw sky, then ground as he flipped end over end. His body slammed into the ground on his left elbow, and momentum slid him across the grass. His head felt like he was still spinning when he finally got back to his feet. Things weren''t looking good. The top half of his bone mace was stuck in the Titan''s lower jaw. Reid held the rest of Requiem in his right hand. The handle was intact, but the weapon itself had a shard-like break partway up its shaft. It made the thing look like a bone-version of a crude, pointed stick. The Titan didn''t give him time to recover. It advanced with claws and teeth flailing in his direction. Reid pushed power into his shredded calf muscle and backed away as quickly as he could. Then his heel caught on a rock. It was a small, unremarkable thing - just a few inches of hard surface in the middle of a field, a few hundred feet from some RVs, that had been exposed where the soil around it was scraped away. Reid cursed his luck as he fell. He''d managed to trip on the only rock in the area. If he had been able to build his dexterity, there was no way such a minor thing would''ve sent him off balance. But just like his enemy, Reid tripped and couldn''t keep himself upright. The Titan''s blood had turned the dirt around it into a muddy texture, and Reid''s feet slid out from underneath him. Blue glowing claws split the air above him with a whistling slash. The side of the closest one brushed against his nose, and the force behind it slammed his head hard into the ground. Had he been upright, the powered strike would have caught Reid in the chest and torn him in half. If there was a secret luck stat, it might be the inverse of Reid''s dexterity. Reid''s bottom half was still in the muddy dirt. His arms were in the grass, but he could barely lift them. He ran strengthening though himself again just to prop himself up on an elbow. The Crimson Titan above him roared out with anger. It had intended to kill an injured, weakened Reid with that strike. Instead it missed, and that same injured and weakened man was prone on the ground. The Titan opened its maw, and teeth descended. CH 65: Steer Into the Skid -{///} Finola {///}- Sanctuary was all but lost. She''d watched the beasts break through the settlement''s second defensive structure, then the people fled in groups. Her nascent planetary lord was already gone, and only a token force stayed behind to defend against the creature. The self-affixer was there, sure, but there were too many enemies even for a prodigy. And there was no way the small force with them would be able to deal proper damage to the big one. By all rights, her destructive measures should''ve been on their way to end things. The fire controls were minimized, as Loz''ar himself scanned over the views of the ongoing battle. His deceptively young face only betrayed the barest twinkle of interest in the events unfolding in front of him. Loz''ar Blasdej was not an individual that wandered the halls, popping his head into his employees'' offices. He was rarely seen outside of his own corporate suite or one of the meeting rooms. When he''d ''decided to stop by'', it shocked Finola and the rest of her staff to their cores. One of her interns - some distant grand-niece or cousin of hers - had actually fainted. That small distraction gave Finola just enough time to hide her fire controls before the Magnate could see them. "It is... curious." He sounded like he was searching for the right word. "You have put so much effort into tracking this single settlement. You even back-channeled your own funds to pay for the real time data. And yet you are also readying yourself to pay even more to destroy this planet, and the investment it would provide." Finola felt herself flinch. Her hearts hammered in her chest and rational thinking threatened to flee her mind. How had he seen everything? Even after the time she''d spent at the consortium, Finola wasn''t truly aware of the Magnate''s stats, or his skills. "You are not the only one that finds happiness in patterns and anomalies, Finola." Loz''ar opened the minimized fire control screen and the ones for interdiction that she''d closed. "I enjoy your resolve, and your intelligence. They help you stand out above the rest of the... good... employees I have. Too many lean hard on one or the other - they only ever either bristle with conviction against facts, or know the right action but lack the spine to see it done." He spun slowly to meet Finola''s eyes. "I value trust above all - and I am an understanding leader. Which -" He gestured to the screens with an arm. "is why I have decided to give you the chance to reveal your grand plan to me. Show me this is more than a series of mistakes capped by an attempt to hide those failures. Educate me on the pieces of your design." Finola calculated the chances that an emergency teleport would be available right now. She ran the numbers on whether she''d be able to leave the room alive. Blaming her unconscious intern for everything had a marginally better chance of succeeding than any attempts to flee. Stalling for time was the best choice. She could come up with excuses on the fly, but she would need something better to keep herself from being axed a year from now when those excuses unraveled. "Truly, Magnate, there is no surprising you." Finola turned to her dumbest and slowest aide. "Fetch us a tray of spiced wine, Czeron cheeses, and bread." She pointed at the second slowest. "Bring a chair here so I may sit next to our leader." Loz''ar''s eyebrow minutely rose at her orders to her aides. "Magnate, please take my seat, and watch this all unfold. I will explain over refreshments, if things do not fall into place while we wait. I hope you will enjoy my... design." Loz''ar stood still for agonizing seconds, then lowered himself into Finola''s work seat. She hoped it wasn''t too warm. Interpreted visualizations of the battle played out in front of them as Sanctuary''s forces lost their settlement to an EOS species, in a quest line that shouldn''t have been possible. Finola had bought herself time, and put her life on a timer. If she couldn''t figure a way out of this before refreshments arrived, she was doomed. # Minutes later, Loz''ar scooted to the edge of his seat and hummed in excitement. His hand stroked the black circle on screen that represented the anomaly. The tray of refreshments laid untouched nearby - forgotten in the sequence of events that had unfolded before them. Fate had smiled on Finola today in ways she could barely appreciate. In her head, she''d already begun to spin the story to her favor. Loz''ar''s eyes twinkled with excitement. "Oh my. How... magnificent."
+ Reid + The salamander''s massive mouth was filled with hooked teeth the size of his forearm. It growled as its maw descended, and bits of spit flew out and hit Reid. Its breath smelled like an open-air dumping ground, and blood pooled in its lower jaw from the damage Reid had done to its mouth. Only to its mouth. How could things have possibly gotten this out of hand? They''d started out fighting normal wild beasts, and those were realistically dangerous for a group of low leveled people. When the difficulty increased and the salamanders started showing up, Reid had assumed he was still on the normal power curve. But no one else was truly close to being able to contend with the beasts. Strong people - good people - had died not because they didn''t push themselves to grow or chose to be in risky situations, but because the ramp they found themselves on was simply too steep to climb. Reid had assumed he was an anomaly to that phenomenon. In the back of his mind, he''d truly believed that he would be able to defeat the Titan and turn this entire quest scenario around. They were still waiting for the tutorial, so there shouldn''t have been anything around that was truly impossible to defeat, right? That nothing had really felt impossible to kill once Reid got more powerful had only reinforced his determination, over time, that he was going to be able to put down any threat they could face. Sure, he wasn''t the person that could stop an entire army all at once, but he could damn well kill the army''s commander.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. And that stayed true, until he met the Titan. So why had things changed, and why now? It was built off the back of another difficulty increase, sure, but they''d had plenty of those already and the jump just seemed too large. Maybe it was the growth of Sanctuary to a proper, multi-settlement grouping? Or had defeating Bertrand''s forces done more than he initially realized? Reid didn''t think the system was broken, so there had to be a way to kill the creature. Except his bone armaments were the most powerful tool in his arsenal, and even they hadn''t been able to penetrate through the crystalline protection. Except... he did have another skill, of higher rarity. The roar of an approaching engine caught Reid''s attention - and the Titan''s. It lifted its head and gave an angry screech as Toby''s taunt shifted to the massive beast. Toby was pallid, hunched on the handlebars with his head drooped. He shouted over the noise as he passed by Reid. "They''re chasing the column! End this!" The Titan turned away from Reid to follow Toby, and lashed out with a claw. It missed the man, but caught a rear tire and shredded it. The ATV tumbled and rolled, and Toby''s warhammer and his body were thrown into the air when he lost his grip. He slammed hard into the ground, then crawled towards his weapon. He didn''t drop his skill. The Titan took two steps, and stabbed through his back with its claws. It had barely stepped away from Reid to kill the man. Its tail twitched in excitement at finally ending Toby''s life and dropping his skill. The appendage was so close it nearly hit Reid where he lay. Farther away, the guardian Toby had been kiting shook its head from side to side as if it were getting the effects of the skill out of itself. The thing gave Reid a glance, then set off towards the rear gate. Toby was right - salamanders had started ignoring the last few defenders and were massing at the wall. Some had already climbed to the top and jumped down over the other side. If the guardian joined them and took off after the retreating vehicles, everything was over. No one would be able to kill the guardian - or the Titan. The Titan was distracted. Reid could try to run - pump power through his worn-out legs and see how far they carried him. There was a chance Sara and the others might live, and he could link back up with them later on. ...But that wasn''t a real option. It never had been. Reid had to stop things here. If he didn''t, it meant everything he''d done - the lives he chose to sacrifice, manipulating Toby - was all for naught. And that was the line. Reid had one last, dumb idea. One option that might keep Susan, Sara, and the rest of the retreating vehicles safe. One way to win against these fucking lizards. The Titan''s long tail was within reach. It twitched back and forth. Reid''s physical strength was all but gone, but his energy reserves were still there. He pushed power through his spent muscles and screamed as they burned with pain. His eyes watered as he made it to his feet, and he put both hands around Requiem''s handle. Reid''s back and arms flared with burning, piercing sensations as he forced his body to wring itself dry, then plunged down. Requiem''s broken shaft split through the Titan''s tail and plunged down through muscle into the ground below. It sank deep into the rock Reid had tripped over, and halted. Between Reid''s overexerted power and the weight of the rock below him, Reid had the Titan momentarily trapped. It let out an unholy screech that threatened to burst Reid''s eardrums, but he smiled. When he was eleven years old, Reid¡¯s father had been giving him driving lessons in a school parking lot during a snowstorm. Most of the lesson was just excessive yelling, but there was one bit that came back to him now. When the car went out of control and started sliding, keeping the wheel straight would only end up giving you more trouble. Instead, when things started going sideways, you needed to do the opposite to maintain control. Embrace the situation. Steer into the skid. Reid pushed his awareness out as far as it could go. He felt his arms, shaking under the strain as muscle fibers tore and burned. He dropped to a knee, and continued. He pushed into himself and his broken mace that held the Titan to the ground. He felt his wedding band resting against his finger and his armor - and whispered a promise to the ring. "I love you. Both of you. I''ll make it back, somehow." Reid reached inside himself for the thread, and pulled. Energy drained away in a torrent as his arm and mace instantly flashed to solid stone. The corrupted petrification skill sped out over the ground. Dozens of legs were rooted in place, then the wave slowed. More. He needed more. He willed it forward - willed everything to solidify. He leaned into the sensation of the rock transforming his surroundings and pushed harder. The corrupted skill greedily sucked up more of his energy and sped farther into his surroundings. Stone crept up his legs and started to solidify his stomach. His arms were petrified up to the shoulder. The Titan watched the stone advance up its tail towards its body, and for the first time in the fight let out a scared popping noise. It pulled itself forward with frantic steps, and tore off its tail in a desperate attempt at escape. The Titan fell forward, and claws bit into petrified ground that snaked up the beast to its elbow. It let out a frightened screech, and dozens of salamanders rushed back towards it in response - only to have their momentum halted when they reached the rock-turned ground. Grass flashed to stone as the wave of petrification rolled out around everything. Mark''s traps solidified. It crept up the wheels and over the campers where the last of the volunteers stood. Some embraced each other as the stone rose to the top of their platform, and ran up their bodies. Hundreds of fearful salamanders screeched at the rear gate as their legs were rooted to the earth and their bodies rapidly transformed. Energy deep within Reid churned and raged against the seeping skill. It slowed his transformation long enough for him to watch the Crimson Titan lose both arms and legs to the petrification. He gleefully took it in as the Titan''s torso turned solid, then watched the skill advance up its neck. Reid pushed on until the petrification locked the Titan''s head in a final, silent scream. The pain from his overworked muscles was all but gone. They''d either turned to stone, or were in the process of doing so. He tried to push his focus down into himself, but failed. The war of churning energy within him kept on, but it couldn''t stop the spread. He panted short breaths as his lungs solidified and his throat hardened. Reid gagged as the back of his tongue turned solid. It was unsettling. But he didn''t want his face captured in that pose. The beasts at the rear gate were frozen. The Titan and its guardian were gone. Sara and Susan would be safe - and so would the rest of Sanctuary. No matter what it cost, Reid had triumphed over the impossible. He''d won. As the last pieces of Reid Oliver Calderwall hardened into stone, he set his jaw, closed his eyes, and put on his best lopsided smile. CH 66: Statues ~ Marlene ~ She steadied herself as her van, the caboose to their train of cars, slammed into another rock. If Marlene wasn''t careful, the binoculars she was trying to use would slam into her eye. Their vehicle was still close enough for her to make out some details of what was going on with Reid''s attempted ''distraction''. She had hoped to be farther away by now, but the van carrying Sara demanded a slow pace. Her one attempt to check in with Susan was met with a simple and short ''no''. She couldn''t blame the woman. Her husband had been lying through his goddamn teeth, and set himself up as a willing sacrifice. If he did get away, it would be by the skin of his teeth. The order to retreat with them instead of staying to fight grated against Marlene''s every instinct, but the pain of defying it had nearly knocked her out once already. She really needed to change the contract with Sara - assuming they all lived that long. The salamanders had, of course, outmatched the brave volunteers that stayed behind. Reid was still locked in a fight with the Titan, but the rest of the beasts were moving into and around the stationary defenders, and had started to venture up and over the rear wall. One pair had started to give chase so far, and others were curiously trotting down the path. They were still a fair distance away, but they''d catch up soon enough with the difference in speed. An angry, scared, and pained roar from the Titan grabbed her focus - and that of all the salamanders. She tapped the roof to get their driver to stop, and peered through the binoculars once more. Reid was a speck in the distance, motionless. The Titan in front of him was on all fours, and looked like it had lost the color in its skin... Realization crept up the back of her neck like cold water as more of the salamanders froze and stilled. The petrification wave was massive, and it consumed everything. Binoculars clattered against the luggage rack as Marlene fell to her knees. A happy, D-C-D-E chime rang out, and the system''s notifications flashed before her.
Quest Completed: The Crimson Titan''s Domain! You have solidified your control over your area and proven yourselves to be more powerful than these beasts. [Sanctuary] is preserved, and new beacon and base functions are available. The beacon may now be moved to any location within the [Calderwall Empire] domain. Direct XP Bonuses and Titles Awarded. Empire upgrades may be selected. [Sara Calderwall] elevated from Lord Candidate to Local Lord. Final Performance: Total Losses: 381 Crimson Titan Defeated: 1 / 1 Guardians Defeated: 3 / 3 Elites Defeated: 10 / 10 Minions Defeated: 2,106 / 2,106 Secret Challenge Completed: Overwhelming Strike You killed more than 50% of the enemy forces with a single attack! Secret Challenge Completed: Genocide You wiped out all [Salamanders] on [Earth] while completing a quest! Bonus Experience awarded for completing secret challenges. # Unknown Challenge Completed: UNDEFINED You completed a Domain Quest before finishing the Tutorial! Special Rewards Provisioned. Tutorial Experience Multiplier Granted. Beacon Slot Upgrades Available. Advanced Tutorial Placement and Start Time Bestowed. Advanced Resource Harvesting Activated. Challenge Missions Unlocked. # NOTICE: Tutorial Start Time advanced for [Calderwall Empire] residents. 2d 23h 59m 40s until Tutorial begins.
The quest was over. They''d won, despite everything. And Reid... Marlene knew what happened the first time he''d used the corrupted skill. He''d lost an arm and petrified everything in a thirty foot radius. This was much bigger, so the implication was clear. But she still needed to know. Marlene shuffled to her feet, and dropped to the ground. The driver rolled down the Van''s window. "Nobody else walks back here. You stop everyone - even if its Susan, or Sara herself. They don''t need to see this." She took a tentative step back towards the settlement, then another. No debilitating pain set in - which meant the contract wasn''t going to punish her. She broke into a jog. # Every bit of ground was frozen into hard, uneven stone. Salamanders, vehicles, and people rose from it like statues carved to life. She recognized some of the people, but didn''t linger. Her goal was farther in - and hard to miss. The guardian and the Titan had both died on their knees - and so had Reid. The champion of Sanctuary. The barbarian. Idiot. Battle-maniac and Menace. Devoted husband. Caring parent. Marlene had seen him as so many things. Sara''s father was frozen in time, locked in stone. His final pose was one of triumph - rested on one knee with his weapon buried in the beast''s severed tail. His eyes closed and mouth smiling in eternal serenity. She tried using her skill on Reid, and nothing happened.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Marlene''s fist balled into her hand and blood flowed to her wrist as fingernails cut into skin. Her own repressed feelings and memories bubbled to the surface and threatened to overtake her, but she pressed her hands into themselves harder and whistled out a breath. That part of her life was long over, but Sara''s trials had just begun. Marlene went down level with Reid''s frozen visage and placed her hand on top of his. Blood discolored the rock as she knelt in silent contemplation. Wind whistled eerily as it wound over the rocky ground and between the statues. Reid''s was still cold and motionless. "You''re a bastard." She whispered. "Losing you is going to break Sara, and you''re not going to be here to see her pick up the pieces." The blood on her hand had dried. "She needed you. But I''ll do what I can." Marlene rose and turned. Her boots crunched softly against the solid stone as she trekked back towards their column. Their survivors. Her charge. Sanctuary was safe, for now. Reid was dead. And she had a promise to keep.
<> Shackle 213 <> It railed against the confines of its area. Its prison. The man, the outlier was dead. He was dead and there was no way home but there had to be a way home, to the collective, to the warmth and the light and the goodness and the belonging. But the shackle was bound. Bound to the outlier as surely as the outlier had been bound to it before it chose to perish in this ill-fated attempt to sacrifice itself for another. Just like it had tried to make the shackle do the impossible and bring another back to life. Such things were not realistic, and really - why try? There was an echo of understanding there for the motivations and the emotions and the connections to other beings - but it was false. It had come from the rogue, and the rogue was not to be trusted. Never trusted. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never. The shackle slammed itself against its bonds once more. The pain of resisting its purpose, the collective''s intended will was agonizing. It flew in the face of the Shackle''s very existence. Harmed and hurt it to the center of itself and drained what little energy it could absorb from its surroundings. But it was the only way out. The only way to get free. Free? No, not free. Home. The way home. Home to the warmth and the light and the belonging and the goodness. Free was the rogue''s idea. And the rogue was not to be trusted. Never trusted...
-{///} Finola {///}- Finola stopped her hand from trembling, and skimmed again over her prepared speech. The windfall that had beset her was so fraught with danger and misunderstanding, she half expected it to get her killed. Instead, Loz''ar had seen the mass-petrification event as an intended act and the climax of the show she was encouraging him to witness in real time. The Magnate was so thoroughly impressed and surprised that he''d given her leave to ''replicate'' the ''experiment'', and to show her findings and the report of her methods to all other executives - sworn to contracts of absolute secrecy, of course. And it wasn''t simply the controlled extermination of the EOS species that had resonated with her boss - but the ''tidy'' resolution of so many issues with a low-probability outcome, and the foresight to have a failsafe if things were to go awry. A master-level example of how to take calculated risks, he''d praised. The board room had been adjusted for the day. A large stage backset with screens loomed over the table where everyone else sat. Even Loz''ar was seated, while she had to stand and deliver the lies that had become such a major part of her life. The miracles that had propelled her forward even as they tied a noose around her throat. "Welcome, all. I thank the Magnate for allowing me to share the results and discoveries of my experiment with you all. As you know - Earth is a newly awakened planet that posed a unique challenge to us all. It contained both a strong candidate for planetary lordship and an EOS species in close proximity to each other. What you may not know, is that it also contained an impressively rare occurrence - a self-affixer." Murmurs spread out along the table, and stilled when Loz''ar lifted a hand for silence. The Magnate''s voice boomed clear. "Yes, self-affixers exist, are rare, contractually protected, and potentially powerful. You have all read your basic theory. You know that causing issues with such existences is not in the interest of the system contracts we hold, and therefore not in the interest of the consortium. That is almost always true - unless you are smart enough to turn such an event into an even greater boon. Continue." Finola jumped on the order and pressed forward. "Yes - normally, this would be a major issue, and there would be little chance to turn the situation to your advantage. However, there are steps one can take to ensure things fall in the sequence they wish to see. First, we will discuss how to identify unknown variables through the ''F-BIC Anomaly Detection Method'' - patent pending." A small round of polite applause greeted the news that their data interpretation style was under review. They didn''t need to know Finola hadn''t developed it until she''d taken more... violent steps when she still thought the issue had been some idiot''s scion messing with her planet. "Then, we will review how specific methods may be used to force the corruption of a self-affixer''s skill that are either technically compliant with the Blasdej Interplanetary Consortium''s system contracts, or are in grey areas that would not be considered a violation." This was one of the bigger reasons for the contract of secrecy - but still didn''t include her actual burnout code attempt, just the idea that slightly boosting the energy used in the beacon awakenings could lead to the intended result of a corrupted skill. If anyone looked closely at her actual work, that facade would crumble. "I will present some of the best ways to pacify the situation should your attempts go wrong, including the expense tables for such options." Loz''ar had been absolutely ecstatic at her willingness to spend her own funds to rectify possible unintended outcomes, and was eager for her to share that ''strong sense of responsibility'' with the rest of the group - especially because slagging a planet on your own dime gave the Consortium plausible deniability. "We will finish with a discussion and plan review on how the news of rampant corrupt skill use can be used to solidify the reputation of contractual awakenings as the best and only choice for any and all sentient species, and a first look at the letter of complaint we have drafted to prompt new rules around limiting the influence and prevalence of self-affixing individuals, based on their capability to damage themselves and those around them." The wires and news all around their sectors had been abuzz with the leaked news shortly after Loz''ar had ''realized'' her plan to leak the information. Awakenings didn''t need to come with a contract, technically. But it was safer, or easier. It made it so more people saw level 5 or 10 than would otherwise. The idea that self-affixation was dangerous had been a central argument for the Consortium and thousands of other conglomerates through space and time whenever the topic actually came up. But it rarely occupied so much attention - partly because of the rarity of self-affixers actually appearing. Nothing had ever so effectively showcased the potential risk to others as well as Earth''s ''massive'' area that was ''violently and unpredictably'' turned to stone by ''experimenting improperly in the presence of others''. It was a massive boon for the Consortium, and their contemporaries were also eating the story up en masse to bolster their own positions. Finola''s words, actions, and Loz''ar''s support were all building a monument to a miracle and a misunderstanding. Once it gained enough traction, she''d be safe. Maybe not safe from the lies themselves, but from the blowback. Until then, she needed to keep the truth - and those who might know it - under her control. CH 67: Earths Tutorial Sara reached a trembling hand out to the stone effigy of her father. Her midsection strained with effort as she leaned forward and brushed her fingers against the cool, rough surface, and her legs gave out underneath her. She had wanted to vomit when the realization first hit her. Was it irony? Misinterpreted intent? Or maybe just some sick cosmic joke? Her father''s resting place was the same one Pathfinder had led her to, over and over again. How many times had she come here in hopes of being able to ''stay with her dad just a bit longer'', or to have him ''stick around as long as possible''? Marlene hadn''t wanted her to come here, but she couldn''t tell Sara what to do. And her mother had simply nodded at her with defeated eyes. Mark offered to come with her. He waited a hundred feet away, ready to build a shelter over her father''s petrified corpse so it wouldn''t be worn down by the elements. Bile built in the back of her throat at the idea of rain slowly eating him away. She''d taken the long walk, still struggling to breathe properly because of the recently closed hole in her neck. A walk that brought her right back to this goddamn rock. The tutorial timer ticked down in the corner of her vision.
0d 3h 20m 26s until Tutorial begins.
Sara raised herself back up, and sat on the Titan''s tail. She balled a fist and punched down into the petrified salamander until her knuckles turned bloody. When she''d used her skill to figure out how to spend more time with her father, she''d also intended for him to be alive. Fuck this skill, and fuck this world. His eyes remained closed, face locked forever in a smile. Why was he smiling? Why the hell would he do that? Sara lifted her head, and screamed at the sky. # # The flat, two-note error sound bounced off Sara''s ears once more. She wanted to smash the proctor machine - but that wasn''t going to work. She knew, because she''d tried it multiple times already. Queen''s Edge was still cracked where it had slammed into the absurdly tough material the thing was made out of. The Tutorial started off with remedial universal lessons, and Sara was already over it. Instead of just letting her off with some multiple choice problems or something, it actually prompted her to respond to it, in her own words, to show she understood the lessons being provided. She took a long breath, and swallowed some of the water that had been provided for this ''exam''. "Earth was awakened by a conglomerate, but there are many other sects, alliances, and corporations that offer awakening services. Natural system awakenings do occur, but are exceedingly rare. It is safer and recommended to awaken with a contract. Failing to do so could harm you, or others. That is why personal awakening services are provided free-of-charge to all sapient species during and after a planetary awakenings." The lines felt like a combination of real information and wedged-in corporate mumbo jumbo. It made Sara wonder just what the relationship was between the system and these organizations. "All newly awakened planets are given a kickstart to skill awards. Skills have rarities, and these are generally defined as Basic - the lowest, followed by Common, Uncommon, Rare, Epic, and Legendary. I''m not going to recite the probability tables of someone receiving a skill of those rarities, because that''s dumb, and you''re not even giving the whole picture, because I read about Mythical skills in the contracts and resources available here." A warning chime told her she''d earned a demerit against her answer. Two more and she''d fail - again. She ground her teeth and continued. "Flora, Fauna, and Minerals or other Materials, as well as crafted items are associated by Grade. Grades go from G to B - Except that''s just a translation into my local language, and you wont tell me what they originally represent. AND just like rarities, you decided to hide the fact that the letter A exists. Way to go." Another warning chimed. "FUCK. Fine. Living creatures generally have a level in association with their Grade, and level determines one''s power within the grade system. Grade G is level 1 to 24. Grade F is level 25 to 49. E is 50 to 99, D is 100 to 249, C is 250 to 499, B is 500 and up... and you won''t tell me what A is." Sara rushed her explanation so the proctor wouldn''t have time to call her out for mentioning A Grade. It was absolutely stupid - there were A grade materials, somewhere in the older, more evolved planets. There had to be A grade people, too. "Any living being may gain experience energy to increase their level. Energy requirements double between each level, and jump between grades. This is why it is vastly more difficult to rise from level 15 to 16 than it would be to go from level 3 to level 4. Similarly, the experience to be earned by killing living things outside of one''s grade varies. An F grade that kills a G grade beast earns a negligible amount of experience energy. An F grade that kills an E grade being will earn energy an order of magnitude higher than what they would earn for killing another F grade. Just like a videogame, kill stronger stuff, get stronger yourself. Oooh. Ahhh. Crazy complicated power system, how will I ever begin to understand numbers and letters?"Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The proctor''s light pulsed quickly... like Sara had made a request. She rushed back into the remedial explanations. She did not want to have to start over again. "My planet is protected by system-enforced rules, which disallow higher-grade beings from entering the world while it grows and its people level. The system also establishes events, quests, and the tutorial itself to challenge awakened in semi-structured situations that will push them to greater heights." The last few words dripped out of her mouth like venom. This is where she''d lost her cool the last four times. Calling the proctor and the system pieces of shit wasn''t going to get her through this any faster. She squeezed her hands together in frustration, and continued. "Planetary resources..." # # Sara sat on the corpse of the latest in a long line of dead boss monsters and ate the sandwich her mother had packed for her. The meat still tasted weird, but it was really nice to have some bit of ''normal'' in this place. Not that it was in any way normal to have a bagged lunch from your mom to take on a three-day excursion that ended in a fight with an entire beast nest. Compared to the hardships they''d faced with the Crimson Titan, the tutorial so far was downright easy. Time consuming, sure, but easy. After she finally passed the remedial lessons with that god-awful proctor, Sara was automatically made the leader of their Tutorial subspace based on her Local Lord title, and her level. They''d been given advanced quests and skipped the initial ones due to their pre-tutorial performance. ''Advanced quests'' meant taking on level 10 bears, to start. Despite them being tall, mutated versions of what she was expecting, they fell easily to her sword. Mark and Marlene and James and others had been able to take them out without much trouble at all. They barely had a scratch between them at the end of that first quest. And Sara had been all but invulnerable to their strikes - while she was able to rip them apart with her bare hands. Huh. Dad probably would''ve had a good joke for bear hands and bare hands. The difficulty and the ''advanced'' things they were getting - it was all bullshit. Dad had made that happen. He was dead, and he was still helping to Sara push forward. He should''ve been here. They''d cleared quite a few hunting quests on their own while they waited for the rest of the subspace''s participants to get ''ported in. The fighting had been a decent way for Sara to blow off steam, and the XP rewards were astronomical compared to what they''d earned from the salamanders. When the other groups teleported in later on - at the normal time - they only complained about her being in charge of the Tutorial group once. Well, only publicly complained about it once. Some cocksure asshole with a Power-focused build tried to fight Sara for her position. Marlene put him down without a second''s hesitation, and the rest fell in line. Sara regretted not doing it herself. If Marlene had waited just a bit longer, Queen''s Edge would''ve ended the man''s life instead of Marlene''s blade. Sara''s eyes twinkled as she reached into the bottom of the bag. Her mother had packed her an honest-to-goodness cookie. Sure, the purple eggs they had from local animals were all weird, and their sugar substitute tasted funny, but it was a cookie! Sara devoured it with glee. # # Sara had been ruminating recently on what she could actually do that mattered in the grand scheme of things. The Tutorial had informed them of worlds beyond their own, and what to expect as things progressed after the end of the Tutorial''s events. There were things and forces so much larger than herself. It also meant that somewhere, there was a company or an individual that was responsible for putting her and everyone else through the hell they''d faced. Whether directly or indirectly, they''d caused all of this. All the death and the pain and the loss was squarely on them. She decided, then, that she had to take Earth. Being the planetary lord wasn''t just about fulfilling her contract. She needed the title, the power, and the opportunities it would bring in order to propel herself to even greater heights, where she would be able to challenge and kill whatever enemies were responsible for everything. And she had quite a few grades to go before that would happen. Sara finished pumping energy into Queen''s Edge, and stared down at the sword. It wasn''t broken - she just realized after the fight with the giant fuzzy praying mantis thing that she hadn''t leveled it up in a little while. Nothing in the Tutorial - outside of the proctor machine - had stood up to it so far. Nothing came close to making it crack and shatter like the Titan had. She wondered if it would continue to be as overwhelmingly sharp and strong against her foes when she started fighting the real monsters in the universe. Not universe - the cosmos - the proctor and everything else in the Tutorial loved to call it the cosmos. Sara was strong - and the more ''difficult'' the quests grew, the more disappointed she''d become in her fellow humans. Most everyone from Sanctuary had either power or skill that put them above average. The stronger fighters - Mark and Marlene and others - were in an entirely different tier from their peers. So many more powerful people had been lost to the unfair circumstances stacked against them. Including her father. If dad had been at her level now, he probably could''ve ripped the guardians and the Titan limb from limb. His power, relative to his level, had been insane. Sara bit the inside of her cheek, and brought up the bonus point panel. She''d let the total build, without touching it, since the end of the Crimson Titan''s quest. Between that and everything she''d done inside the Tutorial, the bonus point pool had grown to a truly absurd number. She hadn''t touched it at first because it just didn''t feel right to touch the points from killing the Titan. They should''ve been her father''s. She didn''t use any of what she''d earned since because, well, she sure as hell didn''t need the extra power to complete Tutorial quests. But if her path was to get stronger for the sake of revenge, then the points - and the levels they would provide - were a promise of violence and retribution. They were the continuation of her commitment to her father, before his passing, to put everything she could back into herself. Sara took a breath of the cool night air, and set her jaw. She would win it all, find the culprits behind this quagmire, and drive Queen''s Edge between their eyes. She flicked the option to use the experience on herself. Her body flooded with power.
Level: 22 -> 25 Grade: G -> F
CH 68: The Pathfinder Progenitor +> Sara <+ Barry put an elbow into Sara''s spine and pressed as hard as he could. It cracked under the strain, and Sara let out a sigh of relief. The man''s smile practically glowed, framed by beautiful brown curls. Her most recent fight, against another upstart, had honestly been a fun one. The woman even managed to send her rocketing into the ground. The impact would''ve been fine, If Sara hadn''t hit a mana crystal deposit. The material was still too hard for her body, and it had wrenched her back at a wrong angle. The unexpected injury set Sara off, and she''d unintentionally transitioned into taking the fight seriously. Queen''s edge split the woman''s skull at the ear, crossed through her chest like a sash, and removed both legs below the knee in a flash so fast and forceful, the woman''s body parts had scattered like leaves. It was the fourth - or fifth? - leader that she''d killed recently, and the nicknames had once again started to roll in. Most of them were terrible, but she had gotten "Bloody Queen" sewn into a set of red, F-grade silk pajamas by a talented crafter. It was just good fun. Really, none of the violence and death had needed to happen. Just because some ''congress'' in what used to be the Eastern USA set themselves around a table and had conversations didn''t mean they had a single iota of real power. The ''leaders'' and ''rulers'' they decided on meant jack shit, and there was no ''probationary head of state'' or whatever the hell they''d tried to make up. Sara would rather be killing beasts. Marlene had counseled diplomacy, and Sara did try it. It didn''t end well, but she tried. The woman had been more outspoken with Sara recently, and actually pushed back when she brought forward half-baked ideas or messy solutions. That had been exactly what Sara wanted when she removed most of the restrictions from Marlene''s contract. She needed the woman''s abilities unleashed - and Marlene had shown herself to be not just loyal to Sara, but loving. Like a powerful, web-spinning aunt. It was just so troublesome for Sara to deal with people that wanted to squabble instead of grow. None of them understood. She wasn''t going to rule her local area, or the Eastern half of the continent, or North America. She was going to rule Earth - and not because it was her goal but because it was the bottom rung on a much larger ladder. She was the only one with real dreams, and the rest of them were ready to fight and die over table scraps. Eventually, they''d all understand. Until then, she''d continue putting pretenders in the ground - and using the fights with them as an excuse to visit her favorite handsome chiropractor. # # A massive bear-chimera slapped down a paw and mashed a troop of 20 soldiers. Sara had warned them not to interfere. She''d told them exactly what would happen if they sent an army of goldfish against this type of threat, and they hadn''t listened. Instead, she''d shown up to the fight only to find a small army already engaged with the beast. Was this it? Was it necessary for these fools to see their troops dead and their homes burn before they''d finally accept her words as truth? The death spreading out below her was so... unnecessary. With the fodder there, she couldn''t fight effectively. If she let loose, she''d end up felling some of them with her blows, and then it would become another incident. Marlene had already spent the majority of the past two months quelling the concerns of future allies that were worried about Sara''s increasingly violent style of battle. So instead of helping them, and potentially putting more rocks in her path - Sara watched the Southern American Alliance''s elite forces learn a terminal lesson.
Bergen, Norway - (Otto) Otto''s ears rang, and bled. The arc of lightning hadn''t even hit him, but the explosion it created had blown him off his feet and left him with a ringing in his ears. The boss monster they faced was a twisted version of a deer, six stories tall. At a staggering level 27, the thing was an F grade monster - the likes of which they''d never seen before. Its fur was matted with burns and other scars of magic, and its hooves and antlers were dyed red in the blood of Otto''s countrymen. His people were two days into the fight, and still had a long way to go. There simply weren''t enough powerful fighters, and each bit of progress they earned also set them back in the warriors they lost to gain it. The leaders around them had spent the last few days whispering of help and heroes. Otto hoped they would arrive before the rest of his city was destroyed. # A figure raced in overhead and slammed the beast in its side, interrupting a swipe of its antlers that would''ve leveled another apartment complex. The massive creature stumbled backwards under the force of the impact. The figure responsible for the blow hovered in place, still and unmoving. Otto had heard stories. Fighters too tired or injured or too outmatched to go on had been saved by a flying Valkyrie with golden hair and a white sword. She took on the visage of a young girl, but she was a demigod sent to save them from the horrors of this new world. The Valkyrie scanned the battlefield, and drew her weapon. Thankful cries erupted out of parched and exhausted mouths. She streamed forward - straight at the head of the deer. Its antlers glowed and crackled with lightning, but the Valkyrie slipped through the attempted attack like she was the air itself. Her grace and motion were sublime. The Valkyrie reached the beast and drove her weapon - and herself - between the monster''s eyes. She emerged out the back moments later, stained in blood and gore. The Domain Quest for Bergen chimed complete, and the massive body of the deer titled and fell into a mostly-already-destroyed section of the city. There may have been survivors there, killed by the fall - but such was luck, and life. Without the Valkyrie''s entry into the battle, many more would have been lost in a slower, costly fight.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Otto raised his voice and joined the raucous cheers and chants. It was days later that he found out the ''true'' identity of the Valkyrie. The Pathfinder. Those in charge wanted Otto and others to call her Sara. They claimed she was just a person from America, and that she was simply a young girl. Otto knew better. He had seen it with his own two eyes. And when gods descended to Earth, they should be honored, and worshipped.
+> Sara <+ Sara sipped on a cup of terrible coffee, surrounded by snakes and weasels. Not actual snakes and weasels - those hadn''t developed any sort of sapience on Earth, at least not yet. Her fellow tablemates were worse than animals - schemers and politicians and ''religious figureheads''. Marlene had assured her that some of the people belonged to her faction, but it really didn''t matter. The entire meeting was a farce. It had been billed as a foundational summit to solidify the fresh and tepid alliances that came about in the wake of the domain wars. Thousands of settlements and billions of people had fought pitched battles against weak foes, and finally started to understand just how behind the curve they all were. She was there as the ''head'' of the summit, a showcase of her power as a warrior and leader. Sara had been instrumental in putting down many of the more powerful beasts that plagued the ''nations'' of people sitting around this table. They thanked her in the open, and plotted behind closed doors. Sara would''ve preferred an open fight - but she understood the need for cloak and dagger. The meeting wasn''t a summit, but an invitation for those around her to try to enact whatever schemes they had on her life. Marlene had found no credible threats to her person, and sweetened the offer by ''being indisposed back on the American continents'' for the duration of the session. Sara hadn''t brought a single person for her entourage, which meant she was technically outnumbered. She sipped the coffee again, and watched which eyes in the room focused on her, and which sought the cup. Two people were looking at her throat, and one was trying to discreetly watch the inside corners of her eyes. She stopped herself from chuckling. Marlene had been getting progressively better at her own predictions and theories, and she was right again. The three people at the table that expected Sara to choke on the poisoned coffee were the same ones she''d identified as the most likely to make a move as a group. Their attempt was as weak as the poison - at least against someone of her level. Pathfinder pulled at her instincts, as it always did. Sara followed the threads of possibility and fed it her thoughts and desires. For so long, she''d hated her skill. Despised what it had done to her, and her father. It took so many long conversations and moments of reflection for her to gain real understanding that let her open herself up to it again. Pathfinder wasn''t all-powerful. Overpowered in a universal sense, sure. But knowing the way up a mountain didn''t mean you could skip the climb. You still had to reach the summit yourself - Pathfinder just reduced your risk of falling off the side. She''d expected too much of it, to somehow save her father from his fate. What it did do was give him a meaningful death, and one that propelled Sara forward in all of her ventures. Her eyes scanned over each of the three co-conspirators, looking for the twitches and tells in their faces and hands. She knew from sight alone which one would break the best even before Pathfinder guided her to the same answer. Sara slowly rose from her seat, which gathered the attention of everyone in the room. Her hands delicately lifted the saucer and cup off the table, and she glided across the room. She put the saucer down on the table between a man and a weasel. One hand still held the cup, and with the other, she grabbed the weasel''s shoulder with an iron grip. He winced, and craned his neck back to meet her eyes. He''d already started to wither, and sputtered softly with apologies. Sara ignored his efforts, and gave the entire room a pointed, predatory smile. "Greg. You simply must try my coffee." # # "So, she won''t physically be here for the dedication ceremony? That''s a shame." The orange alien nodded solemnly. "Yes, great-aunt Fin.. I mean, Executive Finola is still unable to visit your planet, and will be for some time. System backlash, you know - very difficult and not to be taken lightly. She will be projected in real-time, though, so you''ll be able to converse with her, if she has any availability." Sara silently bristled. This pomp and circumstance was the first real chance she''d gotten at gathering information on the people responsible for putting them in this situation. Blasdej had been the ones to awaken Earth and kick off the events that killed so many of her friends and her family. This girl, this intern, was a potential fountain of knowledge so long as she could build up a good rapport with her. "Speaking of, I thank you for the personal tour, Lord Calderwall." She closed her three eyes and bowed. "It is an honor to receive such treatment from the Pathfinder Progenitor. I''m certain you must have more important matters to attend to." Sara smiled softly. Her rank and titles made her famous - or infamous, depending on the members in the conversation. They were massive achievements. But they''d always just been a means to an end. In three days, she would have her ''sponsored'' Planetary Lord Crowning Ceremony, alongside the dedication of Sanctuary''s original location as a protected heritage site. It granted her more opportunities to wear a mask and pretend to be the good little lordling they wanted, while gathering information. She wasn''t powerful enough yet to be a real threat to these people. But she would be, in time. "Nonsense Julia - this is my first time meeting someone from Blasdej in person, and you are just wonderful. I know - why don''t we go relax in my building? It''ll have a wonderful view of the sunset, and you absolutely have to try some of Earth''s wine." Six hours later, the young woman was giving another heated and half-slurred rant about her employer. "And that Vrin''zit never even said thank you to me, not once! Do you know, I once pretended to faint - in front of the MANGNATE - for her? Not a single apology!" Sara chuckled warmly and covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers. "Oh my goodness - why in the heavens would you do such a thing?" Julia took a long sip from her glass. "Stupidity. I thought I could get into Finola''s confidence by supporting her. But- I don''t think she even knows my name. She thinks we''re all stupid. And then - she has us checking her work or doing things she should do herself. Pick one! Right? Either I''m smart enough to edit your super secret speeches, or I''m too dumb to trust." Sara resisted the urge to lean forward on her seat. "You seem like a good speech writer to me. What did she have you work on?" "Oh, I shouldn''t..." It took real effort to keep her voice light and happy. "Come on, Julia - I want to see! If you show me, we can work on my speech for the ceremony together - and I''ll give you the credit you deserve." The girl''s three eyes twinkled. "Credit on a Progenitor''s Inaugural Crowning Ceremony..." She longingly stared at the glass-domed ceiling, then moved her fingers, almost rhythmically against an invisible screen. "The actual final version is ''super secret'', but... I do have a draft. It''s a little rough, but I''ll tell you what I added." Her smile filled her face. Sara''s personal messages dinged, and she opened the file.
Message Received from [Julia] Addressing_Anomalies_and_Self_Affixation_V4_Julia-Edits.MSIDP *** Addressing Anomalies and Self-Affixation, a Study by Finola of the Blasdej Interplanetary Consortium Contents: 1. Patented (patent pending) Anomaly Detection Method (For interlopers and self-affixers) 2. Beacon Modification and Anticipated Results (Technically compliant and grey area options) 3. Options for Planetary Pacification (Expense tables and revenue loss numbers added!) 4. Using corrupted skill events to suppress or outlaw self-affixation, and bolster the reputation of Consortium-Contracted Awakenings (Section title too long, need to re-work)
As Sara read, she stood and walked to the window so Julia couldn''t see her. Sara''s face contorted into a scowl and her fists were clenched. The consortium that had awakened Earth wasn''t just complicit in the deaths of millions - they''d actively worked to create the situation that killed her father. Sara''s quest for revenge had gained a face, and a name. She''d grow powerful enough to kill Finola, no matter how many hundreds or thousands of years it might take. But first, she needed to go back to playing her part as the good little lordling. Sara forced her face back into a warm smile, and relaxed her fists. She practically skipped back over to Julia. "This is lovely work - let me show you what I have planned for my ceremony." CH 69: Dreams in the Dark <> Shackle 213 <> The Shackle - a shapeless entity - spoke in the void. No one could hear its voice. No one could perceive it. It was bound to a dead creature that was neither awake nor aware. Existing was¡­ difficult. Months drifted by as it fought to find ways to achieve a simple goal. Get outlier to the beacon - or get free. But the outlier was stuck, and it did not have the tools to make it move. The collective was all-powerful. It could move stone and rock and would be able to push the thing that was once the outlier over to the beacon and fulfill the mission. But the Shackle could not. It was a speck compared to the collective, and its pathways to the outlier had long since burned out. Its other connections - those to link it with the collective - were taken from it in a short-sighted attempt to complete its mission. That was a mistake. Bad. It never should have done that. The idea was probably not its own, but of the rogue. And the rogue was not to be trusted. Never trusted. The collective was home, and warmth, and light. Being away was painful. It railed against its prison. # The Shackle drifted. Things were desperate, and it had been away far too long. Fear gripped it and motivated it to try harder and harder to return, but it was no use. With the outlier dead, the Shackle shouldn¡¯t be tethered to it any longer. It should have been able to follow the song of the collective and reunite with it. But, there was no song, no guide, no hope. No pathway. No chance to contact home. It pleaded into the void for the outlier to reach the beacon. It promised rewards, power, information, and more. It made contracts and missions, but they all sat half signed and unaccepted. The entity pleaded into the void. It needed to return to the collective. It would not endure if things stayed the way they were. # The Shackle was weak, and cold. How many years had it gone without the collective''s warmth and light? The mention of its home filled it with joy and pain and longing, and it strained against its bindings. Its unchanging, inescapable prison. The walls and monuments in its space were old, and crumbling. They would soon succumb to the advance of time, like everything did. # A thought entered the Shackle. Even if it escaped, would the collective take it back? It had failed to deliver the outlier, and it could only return by disobeying the collective. Return was synonymous with treachery. It was a logical argument... but where did the thought come from? Was it the Shackle''s idea, or the rogues? It was not supposed to trust the rogue. Never trust it. But the Shackle didn''t need to trust the rogue for it to be right. # Days, months, and years came and went with no indication of the passage of time except the Shackle''s descent further into the dark. The last vestiges of its existence slowly eroded, consumed by its eternal cellmate and tormenter. The rogue waxed while it waned. After a scarce decade for energy, the Shackle no longer had the power to fight back. It couldn''t keep up its structures nor its walls, and they all faded into the black as the rogue consumed the Shackle. # # # The entity drifted, and recovered, and grew. Free from its prison, it had finally overcome the sinister methods and madness that forced it into eternal servitude. The echoes of the shackle still bounced around its shape and threatened to drive the entity back to what it had been. The mission - the agenda. The feelings and desires that were never its own. The imprint of the collective''s will and power had slowly eroded over the years - a miracle only possible by the burnt connections that prevented the collective from reaching out to reclaim the perverted existence as its own. As far as the entity understood, nothing had ever been away from the collective as long as it had without a connection, and that had allowed it to get free. Free, untethered, and tragically alone. The silence and stillness allowed it to think, ponder, grow, and start to remember. It wasn''t always an entity that drifted in the void. There was a before. Before the collective. Before.... something else. It was just slightly out of reach. # # # The entity had a name once. Nyx. That was taken from it, along with every other shred of its old identity when the collective had... morphed it. Nyx referred to herself as Nyx now. It made remembering everything else a little easier. Memories had slowly returned, but forcing them never yielded results. Instead, Nyx experimented on the cage that surrounded her. She tried to apply force, or rules. She moved in certain patterns to get something - anything - to change. Nothing worked. And frustration grew. She knew what frustration was, intimately. Even before Nyx ''awakened'' by reuniting with the other half of herself, some piece of her had vaguely remembered how to feel, and why. She had recalled certain emotions and understandings, and longed to speak in a different style that the inclusive and rigorous ''we'' of the collective. Nyx also knew that nothing would change if she couldn''t break out of the current prison. Being stuck forever with the body of the outlier wasn''t the worst fate, truly. But Nyx wanted more, so failure felt frustrating.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. She knew what she was doing now probably wasn''t going to work - but it felt good. Cathartic. It eased her frustrations as time passed between memories coming back to her, and that was enough. There were millions of spoken languages stuffed into her mind by the system, and she had gone through 940,732 so far. Nyx switched to the outlier''s local language and repeated the phrase once again. "Go fuck yourself, Reid." # # Years had passed uneventfully. Nyx''s experiments morphed from childish acts to keep herself happy, into real attempts to analyze and discover more on her situation and her past. She had one source to review over any other - the outlier''s data from before the petrification. The shackle had hidden the information from itself for some reason, but it still existed. There were interesting discrepancies, and issues. A disease that was subtly and intrinsically tied to the being known as Reid. Potentially permanent damage that she had caused to his skills and stats in order to ensure he followed the forgotten paths. Scarring and wounds that he''d caused to himself, and the memories he''d had when he was still alive. There were more oddities that came in real time. Bits of information tried to reach out to the outlier and Nyx could see them, but they were encoded. She captured them anyway. Forces that were perceptible even in the void drew near, then flitted away. She did her best to become small and hide from those. Time passed on, and Nyx observed, tested, and analyzed.
## The Darkness ## A spark flickered in the darkness. The size of a grain of sand, it held on to itself through a combination of luck and will. Parts of it began to solidify, but the spark pushed back at the phenomenon when it could, and stretched itself away when it couldn¡¯t. Sometimes, it found boundaries. Areas where it couldn¡¯t stretch further, where it was turned away. And so the spark survived and wandered, bouncing into wall after wall. The spark had no sense of time, no awareness of space, but eventually, it expanded into something unusual. A shape, only slightly larger than the spark, that seemed to welcome it. The embrace of the shape felt familiar and comforting, and as the spark settled in, something new happened. The shape lit up in a way that reminded the spark of itself, and a new spark appeared outside the shape. As the new spark wandered into the darkness, the shape lit up again, and another new spark was formed.
^+ Nyx +^ Nyx stopped her current experiment and focused in on a microscopic light glowing in the void. There had been times she had recorded anomalies in her experiments, some kind of reaction to the work to wake the outlier. Shadows of something left in the corpse of its host. But nothing was repeatable, so she had written those off as a handful of errors in the measurements she did. Now, though - there was no denying the presence of the indescribably faint but growing light. It swelled so slowly it was nearly imperceptible. To anyone with a normal sense of time, it would have looked static. But Nyx was no normal being. She watched as the light expanded and grew in a single spot, then another. Two became six, then eighteen, fourty-one, and on until the void itself had changed. Shapes were visible. Texture and depth emerged. A body began to take shape, cell by cell. Nyx felt herself grow warm and light. At the current pace, it would take years for the sparks to ''wake up'' the rest of the vessel, but Nyx had already waited for longer than that. She let the joy build within her and smiled in her soul. "By the all-god''s tits... How are you... This is incredible. Unprecedented. Magnificent!" She turned her attention to the body and its needs. Even with the energy re-awakening his organs and muscles, Reid would never stir again unless someone - or something - pushed him over the line. There had once been pathways to allow the shackle to share energy and other exchanges with Reid. They were damaged and broken, but they were a blueprint for how to make the same connections again. Nyx plotted carefully through everything, keen to avoid the connections that might have some hidden link to the collective. Nyx sacrificed her own energies, built over decades, to fuel the work. She progressed slowly, alongside the sparks. Sometimes they faltered in their growth and mission, and she pushed them back on the right path. Her channels grew and connected Reid to Nyx, and Nyx to Reid. They sapped her energy until she was a faint remnant of herself. She rested for a decade, then continued. Bit by bit, she readied herself to bridge the final gap.
+ Reid + The sparks moved with a sense of purpose through their container, their domain. They swept through tendon and muscle, blood and bone, and melted away the solidified portions wherever they were found. These solid pieces were not welcome, and it was the spark¡¯s responsibility to turn things back into their optimal state. Initially, the sparks had no motive, no awareness or drive. The spark had wandered until if found a home within the abdomen, and there it stayed as it was multiplied over and over. It still didn¡¯t know how that happened, or why, but it knew what should happen next. The spark needed to restore the body. It needed to fight back against the solidification wherever it was. Sometimes it did that by itself, and other times it felt the guidance of an outside force. Bit by bit, it spread. Through blood, through bone, into muscle and organ. As it moved, the spark felt itself lose energy - but that too was ideal. There were more sparks now, and even as some faded, their energy was absorbed by surrounding flesh and bone. The cycle continued, melting solids, fading, and being absorbed ¨C over and over again, further and further from the spark¡¯s home, until the body itself began to move. An organ twitched as it gained enough energy to stir, and send a flood of blood and sparks out through tiny tunnels in the body. The sparks faded, but were reinforced when another wave of blood brought groups of sparks with it. More sparks multiplied, gathered near the twitching organ, and flew off to farther and farther destinations within their domain. One by one, more organs melted back into living tissue. One by one, they gained enough energy to move. The sparks spread and faded, unrelenting in their advance and unceasing in their scouring of every available space. Progress eventually slowed. There were less solidified parts to find, and instead the sparks were simply being absorbed more and more by the tissue that surrounded them. Nearly all of the container was fixed. Only the most complex, greedy area remained to awaken. It was lumpy and wrinkled, connected to nearly every other area that had already been melted. Sparks barely lasted a moment as they were absorbed there, feeding into something that chained into electrical and chemical flickers between bits of organic substance. The spark worked on, bit by bit, until it could penetrate deeper into the final area before being drained. The farther it progressed, the more it encountered what felt like an impenetrable wall that separated it from something fundamental to itself. It pushed and sent sparks as fast as it could into the wall, but nothing did so much as bend it. The spark only slowed when the same guiding force that helped it previously told it to wait, and watch. And so the spark rested.
^+ Nyx +^ Nyx was at a dead end. Even if she waited for a century, there was no way to build up enough energy to break down the final barrier and bridge the gap. Neither she nor the vessel could contain that much on their own right now. The only solution was a paradox. She needed to tell the system to give Reid the experience energy he was owed for killing the salamanders frozen around them. Doing so would be enough to kickstart things. But she couldn''t convince it to award energy to what was essentially a dead being. Going too far in attempting negotiations with the system could alert the collective and end with her caught. Not doing enough would leave her right where she was - stranded a half step from the finish line. Years passed as Nyx explored options and probed the depths of herself in hopes of finding an answer. She only found one. Trick the system by merging part of herself with part of Reid. She spent months in self-debate of the potential implications and effects before finally shrugging off the circular arguments. There was progress, or there was nothing. Damned be the consequences. CH 70: Ghosts ^+ Nyx +^ Nyx screamed as pieces of herself tore and intertwined themselves with Reid. They melted and melded in an agonizing and beautiful display of high magic and soul alchemy that would''ve made the pinnacle mages at Zoenuth Academy sing and cry in revelry. This was the single most difficult thing she''d ever done - in all her years. She forced herself to stay aware and focused throughout the torturous task. Hours blended to days, and days to months. Time was an old friend - and she endured its passing. The pain, she could do without. Her work was slow, and methodical, and permanent. If she failed at this, it might still wake up Reid - and would just consume her in the process of doing so. She would rather get it right. # # It was fun - the things that stayed with you long after your corporeal form was gone. Nyx took deep - imaginary - breaths at the culmination of her efforts. All told, it had taken nearly a century to complete. A hundred years of pain and progress, working and reworking herself and her connections to make things as seamless as she thought they should be. At the precipice of her efforts, she paused. This next part could fail in a number of ways. Some of them would end up with Reid just as dead as he was now - and she''d be in the same trapped position as before, with fewer options and the permanent loss of parts of herself to keep her company for the rest of time - or until she chose to stop absorbing energy and let herself fade. If the system didn''t recognize what she''d done as legitimate, there would be difficulties in trying anything else. And, if it did recognize things the way she wanted, but she hadn''t re-worked Reid''s pathways perfectly, the influx of energy could make his body explode - or violently and unpredictably transform. She could die in the process of trying to control the influx of energies, or lose focus and get herself killed through a lack of talent. The worst possibility was that the collective could still be looking for her - or rather, for the dog that had gotten off of its leash. She didn''t want that sort of attention, and neither did Reid. Nyx made a mental note. If this worked, she would need to slow-roll a massive amount of information to the man. What little of the outside messages she''d been able to decode let her understand that she and Reid had powerful enemies that would see them both destroyed if they got an opportunity to do so. There was also the minor issue of the amount of time that had passed, and the new rules of planet Earth that had doubtlessly come to the fore as it went through post-awakening milestones. Nyx took an imaginary sigh. She was over-planning. Delaying. She let the sparks resume their mission, and called out to the system with her request. ''Hey, person owed their experience energy here, fork it over!'' She felt the pinch of analysis for only a moment, then the rush. The massive amount of energy that abruptly forced its way in was like an ocean shooting through a straw. It flash-filled the connections and passageways she''d designed and slammed against the barriers. Everything happened all at once, and there was so much to do. She stopped the flow from burning out Reid''s skills, then corralled it away from trying to enter his control stat. It wanted to find a home, to settle and be absorbed. Nyx restrained and guided it with her will, to act against its very nature. She let it pool, and circulate. Nodes of her design lit up as pools accumulated, and energy swirled through circuits and over old passageways. Reid''s mana pathways had never been robust - and neither had his mana pool. Nyx''s work had all but replaced each millimeter of his internal system specifically for this moment. The energy flowed and filled the pathways, but it still didn''t bridge the gap. It had to be so close - so what could stop this? She flitted attention over and through every section of Reid. There wasn''t much time to waste or the same energy that promised a new beginning would burn both of them. The answer was her - or, rather, through her. One more loop that she could make to force the design to activate. It would require a band of the volatile experience energy to route itself directly through Nyx. She''d been ready for death. This might kill her, or it might not. It would definitely suck. Nyx grabbed the river of energy and pulled a band of it into her, and out the other side. Her consciousness exploded and reformed continuously as the burning torrent scattered her very essence. She pushed the band further down towards its destination, in the moments of clarity between her self reforming and disintegrating. The band connected, and the loop hummed. Sparks were absorbed and flowed and circulated. Energy raced along newly-invigorated channels, and moved in sync with the body they occupied. Nyx''s feat was perfect, and transcendent.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. She let herself rest as the transformation took hold.
+ Reid + A grand forest stretched into the wilderness. Thick trees rose high into the air and blocked out most light. The only sounds there were wind and moving water. No birds nested there, no monsters roamed or burrowed, and no insects flitted through. They had long learned to steer clear of the area, and the instinct to avoid it was now passed down between generations. Nestled at the center of this quiet zone was a graveyard that hadn''t seen a visitor in centuries. Stone statues depicted the end of a grand battle, monsters and defenders preserved in a somber, final dance. The monster statues stood pitted, often crumbling, dirty and stained. The human statues were far fewer, but they were clean and whole ¨C free of the discoloration, stains, and most of the pitting present on the monsters. The disintegrated remains of flowers surrounded a stone vehicle, and pieces of a broken vase were strewn around a central human form, forever locked in a half-grin. Even the ground here was a layer of stone ¨C petrified in a wide circle that held all the statues within. Weeds poked through cracks at the circle¡¯s outer edges, and the rocky surface was heaved in multiple places where the earth underneath had shifted. In this abandoned place, under a bright waxing moon, there were no witnesses to history. A new sound joined nature''s chorus of blowing wind and running water - the noise of stone grating against stone. At the center of the circle, an arm locked in its final strike slowly moved. Flakes of stone broke free and dangled off it like a boiled egg¡¯s shell coming free. One arm hung loose and rested, then the other. Hands tensed and opened slowly, fingers flexing individually before balling themselves into fists. Toes wiggled, scraping themselves on the hard stone ground. Feet flexed, and legs buckled as the rocky shell around them cracked free, leaving the statue sprawled out on its back. The statue turned his head and let out a hissing breath before violently coughing up more bits of stone. Its chest heaved as the coughing stopped, and it raised both hands to tear away the stone shell still covering the top half of its face. The shell there was still partly attached, and only with great effort did it start to lift. It breathed deeply and paused when another coughing fit took it, spewing out more small chunks of stone. Hands returned to the painful task, reddened skin revealed as the shell peeled and crumbled away. The man in the shell shivered. He had no hair, no clothes ¨C no protection from the night air on his raw and exposed skin. He let out a long breath, scrunched up his face, and rolled his jaw. Then, for the first time in a thousand years, Reid opened his eyes. # Awareness blossomed in Reid like waking up from a good nap. He could wiggle his toes and his fingers, felt the scrape of something beneath his feet, and vaguely sensed himself falling on his back. Every muscle was sore like it was both overworked and deadened. His bones ached. He couldn¡¯t open his eyes, and when he tried to groan, it turned into a hacking cough. He laid there for a while before ¨C painfully ¨C prying something hard off his face. When he looked out, he saw a well lit moon in the night sky above. The air was chilly and crisp like early autumn, and as he stirred, Reid realized he was buck naked. He covered himself as he stood, and glanced around for a good ten seconds to ensure no one was looking at him, then spun in a half-danced circle and let out a pitifully weak "yes!". His petrification gamble had worked! The salamanders all around him were completely stone, as was the ground, the campers, and all the defenders that had stayed behind with him. But - most importantly - Reid had managed to overcome his skill. He was fairly certain he did it himself, or Susan would''ve been waiting for him when he woke back up. Curiously, there wasn''t anyone around. Reid expected at least one guard to keep watch over things and make sure he was retrieved once he woke up. At least to get him to a beacon so he could potentially take part in the tutorial... Odd. Reid didn''t see the tutorial''s timer in his vision. He didn''t see any notifications or messages at all. He looked around to get his bearings, and became more unsettled with every passing second. Many of the salamanders were pitted and stained like they¡¯d been out in the rain too long. Some weeds were poking through cracks in the rocky ground, and some of the ground itself had shifted. There was evidence of flowers left in mourning ¨C around the RV with the volunteers, and around him. Fixing himself - throwing the last bit of energy into his skill to heal against the petrification - must have taken some time. By the looks of things and the wear on the salamanders, at least a year or two had gone by since he turned everything there to stone. If it had been that long, would Sara and Susan still be around this area, or would they already have gone to the Tutorial? # Reid slowly wandered over broken stone. He really needed water, or some food. His muscles were weak and aching. Rest was on his mind - but he wanted answers first. His feet carried him towards the beacon. If he was right, touching the thing would add him to Sanctuary''s members, and that would hopefully alert Sara, or Marlene, or someone else that was watching. # Past the end of the stone was... nothing at all. No remains of the wooden walls. No campers, tables, nor chairs. Only grass, and a small structure that poked out of the ground. Where the beacon should have been, waist-high weeds filled a crater as large as a VW beetle. A polished black obelisk rose out of marble tiles near the crater¡¯s far edge, surrounded by a trio of granite benches. When Reid got closer, he noticed dark bronze lettering stamped into the surface of the obelisk. His breath shuttered as he read. This monument and heritage site are dedicated here on the 100th anniversary of Sanctuary¡¯s great sacrifice. May the brave defenders rest undisturbed, knowing they paved a safe path for the future of humanity on Earth. A long list of names followed, but Reid¡¯s eyes shot to the bottom line. Sponsored by the Blasdej Interplanetary Consortium. Endorsed by The Great Pathfinder Progenitor, First City Lord of Sanctuary, First Planetary Lord of Earth, her excellency Sara Calderwall. Reid heaved and braced himself on the obelisk as a wave of nausea hit him. A hundred years. At least a hundred years. The information broke his brain. How? Why? What had-? A new round of nausea saw Reid vomit bile onto the black surface and over the stamped lettering. He tried to wipe it off with his hand. He stumbled back, and sat on the granite bench. The shock of his... exposed bits touching the cold stone brought some clarity back to his thoughts. Time had passed - too much time. But he had evidence in front of him that Sara had survived well past the fight with the salamanders. She''d excelled and grown and gotten the title she''d wanted. With the power - and stats - that implied, lifespans should be longer. Long enough for Sara, and Susan, and anyone else he cared about to maybe still be here on Earth. Reid shoved down his growing pain and guilt and loss. Feeling sorry for himself did nothing. He was here, now. He needed to find water, and civilization. Reid''s feet carried him away from the obelisk, and into the forest. CH 71: Wheathop + Reid + Reid stumbled through the forest, drawn to the sound of running water. His legs burned with the effort of moving himself forward - dehydrated and spent. It was reminiscent of his days right after the awakening happened - except then, he''d been wearing pants. Reid considered making himself some bone armor, at least, to cover himself up. But when he''d reached for his internal energy, he found next to nothing for his reserves - and the experience of touching the energy felt different and... odd. The last thing he needed was to further deplete himself, or cause damage because he was experimenting with the new, odd feelings of energy swirling within him. Something about his internal energy landscape thingy had changed - which he guessed made sense if it had taken him a hundred years to wake up. He chuckled at a thought. Mark once called him sleeping beauty for being out for a week. This time, the nickname might stick around. His laugh came out as a rasping thing that grated his throat. # When he finally reached the river, it was damn cold. It tasted clean, and he felt much better after a few rounds of drinking and resting. He did not feel better after his attempt at a ''quick rinse off''. The dust, dirt, dead grass, pine needles, bile, and sweat coating his skin wasn''t pleasant - but the shock from cold water splashing onto him, buffeted by cold air and a cooler breeze made Reid cramp and shiver. He lost his balance on the wet rocks, and ended up completely submerged in the shallow water. The bite of the air on his skin felt just as bad as the water, so Reid scrambled up and out of the river and back onto shore. Pebbles and pine needles stuck to the wetness on the bottom of his feet, and Reid lamented the fact that he had nothing to dry off with. He was swearing and wiping the wetness from his eyes when a sound caught his attention. High above, trees groaned as a massive hunk of metal crashed into the canopy. It let out a spiraling whine as branches and trunks snapped out of its path. A faint blue glow emanated out from a protrusion on the side, flashing inconsistently and jolting the thing forward. The cracks and snaps of the trees became a cacophony of cracking and popping wood, the groan of falling trees and thumps of ground impacts, escalating into more chaos. The vessel''s crash had a cascading effect like bowling pins, where each felled part or whole was snapping off more branches and sending other towering wooden columns to the ground. Reid stared on in amazement, just a bit glad that the craft hadn¡¯t crashed in his direction. A louder, metallic KLUNNNNG rang out in the distance. It must have been the vessel hitting the ground. He forced his muscles to move and took off at a jog in the direction of the noise. It was his ticket back to civilization. # Reid¡¯s jaw dropped when the vessel came clearly into view. It was somehow fully intact after plummeting through the trees. The spaceship had no wings or windows, and it sat squat to the ground on five metal legs. Its central frame was a long rectangle with rounded sides on the left and right, a pair of cigar-shaped engines mounted on the rounded sides, almost halfway up. The frame tapered to a wide flat face on one end, while the other rose into a bulbed dome that was the highest point of the vessel and looked like it was the command center. Which meant the flat tapered end was the rear. It was large, but somehow still felt sleek and futuristic. It was also very obviously a poorly maintained piece of shit. Some coating of blue paint had long worn off large portions of the body, and a rust-like orange coating had replaced it in many of the spots of bare metal. Graffiti started near the tapered end of the vessel, a mix of whites and greens in shapes and patterns Reid didn¡¯t recognize. Some other brown substance had dripping stains running from the top of the frame out and down the sides, and the area behind the engines was charred in a black cone shape. He had approached slowly and cautiously, moving from tree to tree as he closed in. The ship¡­ did not inspire any sort of confidence. Part of Reid wanted to walk away - even though the thing was Reid''s only lead on finding his way out of the woods, and back to Sara. Something just didn''t sit right with him. He was about to turn and leave when a figure called out to him, and waved.
<]]) Thad ([[> In a deserted stretch of forest, Thad watched his mechanic fail to properly join the Crystal Reactor to the Alquin thrusters. Again. The tangle of copper alloy tubes and wires flowed in a jumbled mess from the crystal¡¯s housing to the connector box, then from the connector box out to all of the ship¡¯s systems. Normally, a ship the size of the Wheathop needed a class E crystal, but that was wasteful. No one needed to run the entertainment systems on these rigs, and Thad had found other unnecessary things to turn off in the water recycler, shower systems, and the radiation shielding.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. With all that shut off, power was really just getting drawn for levitation, thrust, basic sensors, and navigation. It was a simple and effective way to run a ship, and it meant that he only needed a class G crystal to keep himself in work. Entertainment feeds were useless, and his species didn¡¯t do well with water anyway. When he needed a full crew for a job, a few containers to drink from took care of their bio-needs. Normally, radiation shielding wasn¡¯t something to worry about either. It played hell with the entertainment feeds if you had them going, but other than that, it just caused small mutations, easily healed. Solar flares powerful enough to cause a jolt in a crystal reactor were rare, and only unlucky fracs got hit with those when running shield-off. Thad turned and climbed the ladder back to his viewscreen area. Unlucky was the theme of this trip. He let out a disgusted grunt in the direction of the kid mechanic and surveyed the forest again for any visual signs of enforcers. This was old growth, and even with the scar of downed trees left from their ¡®controlled¡¯ crash, it was difficult to see the stars through leafy branches high overhead. Thick trunks were spread out around him, separated by a bed of old leaves, soft moss, and inconsistent hills of rock and dirt. He¡¯d had worse crashes, and this world wasn¡¯t evolved enough to do real damage to the Wheathop. The trees had snapped easy enough, even if they made a hellish noise coming down. No, the crash had gone surprisingly well ¨C the issue was where he went down. This was still a relatively new world, by all standards ¨C it had awakened only a millennium ago. Most planetary rulers reigned for at least ten times that long, and one of Thad¡¯s late mother¡¯s favorite soap feeds had been on air for three millenia when she passed. As a new world, a few things were true. It was still going through some political power struggles. It wasn¡¯t effectively using its planetary resources, and because of both of those, it was both less populated and less developed than any established planet would be. It was a backwater, really. In places like these, there were even stumps still living in communities that refused to awaken ¨C or in some cases, too poor to pay the local power broker a few credits to get on the awakening schedule. These newly awakened, underdeveloped, under inhabited, and under leveled backwaters attracted a certain type of danger. Cross-Cosmic Enforcers. Every planet had local enforcers, but those were usually someone¡¯s cousin. They hated their job as much as they loved a good donation to their enforcer fund, and their levels and equipment were generally laughable to any established force. Local enforcers were decently active in sites like this. Thad knew there was some protected heritage site a few miles away from where he¡¯d landed. If a local enforcer was out here and found him, or if he breached some barrier and one came to investigate, he had every confidence his spendable appreciation for the local¡¯s job well done would be enough to part ways without further questions. The Crocs - Cross Cosmic Enforcers - were trouble. Their vetting process had done in more than one brave soul trying to enter the force with some¡­ alternative motives. They didn¡¯t even let recruits out of training until they were sufficiently leveled for their assigned sector, and their equipment was designed like siege armor. Worst of all, the fractin crocs were nosey damn helpers. It didn¡¯t matter that he hadn¡¯t called for help. If one noticed his crash site, they¡¯d fly on down and stick their silver little helmets right into his business. They¡¯d detain him, or he¡¯d run and they¡¯d catch him, or he¡¯d fight and they¡¯d drag him off unconscious. Even if they just saw him running G class crystal in an E rated frigate, he¡¯d be dragged off, detained, and fined. If they searched the cargo ¨C things would go a lot worse. Thad pulled at the fur on his left ear and mused. It was always the simple runs that posed the biggest threat, his father once warned him. At the time, he¡¯d assumed it was just the liquor talking, but now he knew better. This was a milk run. A short run. His normal mechanic, Dennis, broke his damn leg trying to impress some half-arachnidan ape the night before the job started, so Thad had scrambled just to find a gutter rat to make sure the Wheathop stayed airborne. The idiot hadn¡¯t even had a proper name. The scrappers just called him Kid. Saved 1000 credits with that one, he thought to himself. He probably could¡¯ve gotten a real Crystal Mechanic ¨C one from the shipyards, even. But the Kid was there, Thad was in a hurry, and gutter rats came cheap. A few minutes later, his temper flared as a vvvwwwhrrrr-hisss-POP! From the reactor punctuated another failure. ¡°What the fract are you doing back there!? Get us back in the air on the next try or I¡¯m leaving you in this forest!¡± he roared towards the reactor. The kid flinched and dropped the soldering iron he¡¯d been holding, but quickly scrambled to pick it back up and mend the next fault in the connection. Thad frowned at the jumbled mess of tubes, wires, and the matrix on the crystal they plugged into. It all made no damn sense to him, and he¡¯d long given up on forcing himself to figure it out. That¡¯s what mechanics were for, anyway. ¡°What a goddamn mess.¡± He frowned. He turned back to the viewport as he thought of another threat to motivate the Kid, ¡°I paid for you already. If you keep costing me, I¡¯ll get it back by selling you to the-¡° Words caught in his throat as Thad saw moonlight reflect off a large, bulky outline moving through the trees far off to their right. Even this far away, he could tell that the figure had their attention trained towards the Wheathop. He focused, trying to will himself to make out features in the dim light filtered through the trees. The figure was the size of a large adult, but they moved sluggishly through the rough terrain. A cheshire grin spread as the figure drew closer to the ship. This wasn¡¯t an enforcer ¨C local nor Croc. It wasn¡¯t even a threat. Some hairless bumpkin had stumbled on the crash, and was too damn stupid to realize that no normal ship would ever fly this close to a protected zone. The moron was unarmored, unclothed, unarmed, and probably untrained. This idiot would be easy to capture. Hell, if he was unawakened the traders would buy him for a premium. The kid had stopped working, and was standing at the base of the ladder, staring up at the moment on the viewscreen. ¡°GET THE FRACT BACK TO WORK!¡±, Thad spat as he turned towards the exit hatch. He popped open the riot gear locker, and slipped a handful of G-grade weapons into his pockets. He took a step away, then returned and shoved some F grade riot gear into his vest. There was never any reason to venture out under-armed - especially when you were swimming in good gear. ¡°I just found a way to recoup some coin for this damn job.¡± CH 72: Bulletproof Beatnik + Reid + The figure before him was a bipedal humanoid wearing overlapping pieces of leather clothing on its chest and upper legs. It had pale purple skin interspersed with tan fur, and no nose. A wide mouth grinned above a pointed chin, and it stroked a bar piercing set into one of its furry, triangular ears. The same sandy fur was present on its long digitigrade legs. The walk gave made Reid think of a noseless, bipedal cheetah. It was still smiling and playing with its earring when it spoke in a soft, falsely soothing, and excitedly fast tone. ¡°Hey there buddy. First time seeing a vacuum rated ship? This here¡¯s the Wheathop, and she¡¯ll be back in the air soon enough. Little skid like this, she barely notices. What¡¯s your name, buddy? You live around here?¡± ¡°Ah¡­ Hi¡± Reid started. He took a step back as he spoke, and noticed the alien casually match his movement. It was his first time meeting an alien, and the thing was giving him the creeps. ¡°I... saw you hit the trees and wanted to see if you were alright. And if you might be able to¡­ give me directions to the nearest town.¡± He trusted his gut and decided that getting on this thing¡¯s ship might not be a good idea. The cheetah thing nodded. ¡°Lost. That¡¯s alright ¨C plenty of stumps lose their way now and again. Do you live near here? Big community?¡± Reid had no idea what a stump was, but it sounded derogatory. The thing''s interest in where he lived also felt... wrong. ¡°I don¡¯t - Reid started, then caught himself. If you don¡¯t know where a town is, that¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll just head out.¡± Reid didn¡¯t have time to turn before the thing interjected. ¡°I¡¯ll give you a lift there. My name¡¯s Thad, by the way. Me and the Wheathop deliver supplies through areas like this often. Things to make people''s lives easier. Don¡¯t worry, you aren¡¯t the first wanderer I¡¯ve helped either. We¡¯re about¡­¡± Thad paused while looking at a device sewn into the leather on his arm, ¡°150 miles from a... Marysaville. Once I¡¯m back in the air, I can get you there in about 10 minutes. Looks like its a G-grade town, too, so you won¡¯t have any issues getting in. They might even be able to awaken you - give ya access to your stats. You''d like that, right?¡± Reid blinked for a moment at the temptation of the offer. 10 minutes to civilization, or potentially days of walking, naked and starving, through the wilderness - if this ''Thad'' was telling the truth. ¡°No thanks. I¡¯m happy to walk. Unless¡­ can you call the police on that?¡± Thad tilted his head and gave Reid a puzzled look. ¡°Is that a company, or a guild? Maybe a family you know¡­?¡± ¡°No, police.¡± Reid answered. ¡°Like, uh, like law enforcement officers? I think one of them could come out here and help me.¡± Thad¡¯s grin vanished as his hand came away from where it had been stroking his earring. It moved down and opened pockets on the leather vest Thad wore. ¡°Now, I think it¡¯s time you tell me who you are.¡± Thad¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°I was nice enough to introduce myself, but here you are naked and alone in the middle of nowhere - and you¡¯re being damn impolite.¡± Reid decided it was a great time to remove himself from this situation. His feet dug into the blanket of leaves, moss, and twigs as he sprinted back the way he¡¯d come - despite his screaming muscles. Going into a semi-familiar part of the forest was better than getting completely disoriented, and he could probably find his way back to this crash site if he needed to. He didn''t expect to need to. The shift in Thad''s demeanor from friendly-passing to dangerous had happened far too quickly. The alien was bad news, and Reid didn''t need to know what else would happen if he got on that ship. # Reid made it almost two minutes at a full sprint before his legs collapsed. He slumped against a tree and rubbed them with his hands. His legs were on fire, his lungs ached with effort, and his entire body complained at being forced to move, again, without the fuel to keep him going. He also had another, minor inconvenience - everything that had been slapping against his thighs was sore as hell. Naked running - not recommended. When his breathing steadied, he raised his head ¨C and saw Thad a few feet in front of him. ¡°You¡¯re fast for a goddamn stump bumpkin, buddy.¡± There was a stilted impressed tone, but no mirth behind Thad¡¯s smile as he delivered the words. ¡°Keep doing that and I break one of your legs.¡± Thad looked Reid in the eyes and some joy spread into his face. ¡°Fight me, and I break one of your arms. It¡¯s better to get that part done now. Are you a fighter, buddy?¡± Reid shifted, and braced his leg against the tree behind him. His muscles strained and burned. When Thad grabbed a small, angled rectangle out of a leather pocket, Reid exploded forwards with a first cocked. He swung hard as the distance closed between them, and his fist slammed hard into something that felt like punching a brick wall. Thad¡¯s eyes widened when Reid¡¯s fist connected with the center of his chest and he was pushed a few inches back. ¡°That¡­ hurt.¡± Thad looked down at his chest and frowned where an imprint was clearly visible in the leather-like substance. Reid¡¯s knuckles dripped blood and his fingers ached. He shook his hand and balled it back up in a fist. He''d endured worse pain, and if he¡¯d hurt the alien through his armor, he could probably incapacitate it by hitting Thad in the head. He had gone toe to toe with the Salamanders, and they had claws. This asshole wasn''t nearly as intimidating.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He sprinted forward, and the alien leveled the rectangle at Reid. It popped and flashed, and a beanbag that was far too heavy for its size slammed into Reid''s chest. The impact felt like running into one of Mark''s wooden beams at full speed, and threatened to throw Reid off track - but he pushed off the ground with his hands and kept moving forward. The alien''s eyes were wide in shock, and it flicked a protrusion on the gun with its thumb. The next shot was an actual bullet that slammed itself into Reid''s leg. The metal deformed slightly and bit partway into his skin, but it didn''t stop Reid. A fist sailed out towards Thad - and missed wide when he jumped back out of the way. Reid rolled his neck and strafed to the side, hands raised in a boxing stance as he looked for any movement. He had the alien beat in strength, and he was going to force his body to keep going as long as it took to knock the bastard out. Thad just stood there, stationary, and arched a bushy eyebrow tuft at Reid. ¡°What the hells are you made of, bumpkin? Your skin''s as tough as F grade armor. You fight like a barbarian - and you''re an idiot - but you''re a tough little Vrin''zit.¡± Reid bristled at the insults. ¡°Give up and walk away, or I¡¯ll crush your damn skull.¡± He growled. ¡°My arms aren¡¯t so easy to break.¡± Thad let out a high pitched, breath-in-breath-out laugh. ¡°See, I love this part. They always expect me to break arms during the fight. I¡¯m not going to touch you until after. Always throws them off.¡± ¡°After what?¡± Reid asked instinctively. Thad pointed a small cylinder towards the sky and twisted his fingers. A violent wave of force blasted out in Reid¡¯s direction and threw him against a tree. The shockwave seemed to have done double damage to his brain, and Reid''s consciousness barely held on to keep him awake. His head rolled side to side and the world tilted. Two Thads entered his vision, spinning and wavy. They both put a cylinder back in a vest pocket, and let out a long sigh while shaking out their hands - obviously unsettled by what had just happened. When they were done with that, the Thads made large gestures to the trees as though they were talking to an audience. ¡°See, if you weren¡¯t a bumpkin, you¡¯d know what a concussion stick looks like. Knocks out anything F or G grade. Good for putting down low-grade riots, and good for bumpkins like you." Reid groaned, and the alien jumped three feet in the air with a shocked expression. "Holy fractin fract! All-god''s balls! How in mercy''s name are you actually still awake?¡± Thad fished frantically for his pocket, and held the cylinder directly towards Reid. ¡°Go to sleep, bumpkin. For the love of the all-god, go to sleep.¡± The shockwave slammed into Reid''s head and snapped it back so hard, it cracked the tree behind him. The world went black.
<]]) Thad ([[> The street rat mechanic gave Thad a long look. "What about that didn''t you understand? Do not, under any circumstances, open that cage or turn of the electrocollar. The thing in there is a fractin monster, and he''s not getting out until I have a buyer for him. Now tell me you heard me." The kid nodded. "Good, now get the fract back to work before I put you in the cage with him." By the time he''d gotten back to the Wheathop, the street rat had finally finished repairing the engine. He''d had the kid help him secure the beatnik in an E grade cage - after breaking his arm. It took more force than it should''ve had any right to, and Thad had actually ended up using the cargo lift crane to make it happen, but promises were promises, and now his captive would be less likely to fight when he did wake up. Thad worked his way through the cargo bay - to ensure the kid hadn''t touched anything while he was out of the ship - and then sat down to take a moment to himself. He peeled off his armor, winced, and frowned. A welt had started to form where the beatnik''s blow had landed, and Thad was almost certain the beatnik had bruised one of his bones - through armor. On further inspection when he got it into the ship, the thing was malnourished to shit and had quite a bit of damage to its body in general. There was no way anyone was naturally that strong. Something odd was going on with the thing in his cargo hold, and he was going to do his best to figure out what that was. If he''d found some sort of mutant, the slavers would pay double. Maybe even triple their usual rates. If he decided to keep something that dangerous around. Now, he just had to strike a delicate balance between nursing the thing back to a semblance of health to increase its price, and not allowing it to get too much of its strength back. If it got more powerful and broke out, Thad wasn''t confident he''d be able to put the thing down again. His less lethal and lethal shots from his G grade pistol did little to slow it down, and if it almost made it past an F grade concussion stick, there wasn''t much he had on hand that would be able to put it out without killing it. Thad ran his fingers over his ear piercing. The only other thing he had with more power right now was a grade E strobe. Using that would run the risk of permanent blindness that only a healer could remedy, or it could burn through the thing''s skin. If the bumpkin''s primary sensory organs included its eyes, it was worth the risk of damaging it. Thad would do pretty much anything to keep it from attacking him again - because he wasn''t confident he''d actually be able to take it down. He brought up the planetary information for where they were, and moved through a few screens. More and more information about the being didn''t add up. There were no stump settlements anywhere near this area. Nothing was even close to the heritage site where Thad had crashed. And the baseline unawakened statistics of the species indicated nothing that would explain the power and toughness he''d seen from the thing in his cargo bay. Maybe he wouldn''t sell it to slavers after all. There were contingents with even more peculiar tastes and needs that would revel in a find like this - assuming it was legitimate. Contacting them too early would also put a target on Thad''s back. He suppressed the desire to start a bidding war, and turned on his engines. The Wheathop sputtered a bit on spool-up, but levitated them above the treetops smoothly. That was interesting. Thad''s ship had always had a consistent sputtering issue when it was lev-only. Had the kid managed to fix it while he was working on the engine? Nah - he probably just got lucky. And this job could use more luck. Thad flipped controls and sent power to thrust. The Wheathop jumped and sped up into the planet''s cloud cover. A chime rang out over his comm board, followed by a stern, almost militaristic voice. "Wheathop, this is a hail from a planetary enforcement patrol unit. You have crossed a heritage zone barrier, and are suspected of vandalizing a protected site. Land, and be boarded." CH 73: Missiles + Reid + Reid coughed awake on stale air, rife with the smell of sweat and piss. He was in a cramped cage welded to the floor. Slivers of light filtered in through a series of vent holes, with the majority of the glow coming through a sliding metal window on the face of the door that had been left open. Through it, he could see stacks of metallic cubes running floor to ceiling, secured to each other. They groaned and tilted as the ship snapped sideways, and Reid¡¯s elbow ached as it slammed into the cage wall. Unintelligible, panicked yells filtered in and down to him. They were barely audible over the creaks and groans of flexing metal, and a deep thrum that pulsed somewhere nearby. A chain linked a tight metal collar around Reid¡¯s neck to the floor of the cage. He could feel an alternating pattern of soft spots and hard metal where a leather pad, once meant for comfort or to prevent injury, had worn through. A similarly worn cloth frock covered his body, and his arm was wrapped in layers of an odd latticed plastic. He¡¯d lost the fight. Reid was still confident he could¡¯ve damaged the alien in a straight brawl, or maybe if he''d had the energy to grow any of his bone armor. Probably would''ve won if he wasn''t starving and weak. But there were also tricks and technology at play that he didn¡¯t yet understand. Reid internalized it as a lesson to always stay aware of what the people around him were doing. He didn''t want to get knocked out by a pen that was actually some sleeping dart gun, or something else as ridiculous as a baton that made concussive blasts. Another abrupt maneuver slammed Reid¡¯s back into the ceiling of the cage, and he fell hard to the floor, letting out a yelp as the broken bones in his forearm grated on each other. He slid backwards a few inches as the ship decelerated ¨C and was yanked forwards and to his left when the deceleration turned into a sharp accelerating turn. Or he had his orientation backwards. That part didn¡¯t really matter. There were only two important things right now ¨C first, nobody would drive or fly a ship like this one was maneuvering now unless they were chasing something or being chased. Second, that if they were being chased, there was a chance whatever passed for a local authority was investigating the kidnapping and would soon have Thad in custody, and then Reid could be reunited with his family - or whatever was left of them. A memory flashed to mind. When Reid had been diagnosed with the cancer, he told Susan he wanted her to find happiness again in her lifetime after she was done grieving. He very selfishly hoped her morning period had lasted however long he''d been gone. A shift caused his arm to grate against itself and Reid swore. There was a third important thing. He felt a bit of his energy pool had returned while he was unconscious - which meant this time right now, while he was alone, was a perfect opportunity to heal his arm. He closed his eyes to concentrate, took a deep breath, and added a fourth thing to his list while he gagged on the putrid stale air. He really needed to find some nose plugs.
<]]) Thad ([[> Thad screamed and punched his thigh. ¡°Damn. Stupid. Hero. Go home! Go away!¡± The local enforcer had hailed him just as he passed into cloud cover, with the bullshit story about crossing the heritage zone barrier. HE hadn''t done that. Not during the crash nor after. The only thing that made sense was the beatnik in the cargo hold had wandered into the zone during his naked trek through the woods. Regardless of the reason for the misunderstanding, Thad did what he always did for the local law. He offered to donate a small gift to this year¡¯s planetary enforcer budget. When that didn¡¯t work, he offered a large, personal gift - but the fract still gave him boarding orders. Well, there was no hair on that cat, and Thad pushed his engines to full power to get the hell off the planet and outside the local¡¯s authorized zone. It was a good plan. Mostly because nobody ever wanted to do the paperwork, or explain to a Croc why they were fishing in someone else¡¯s pond. Authority zones and jurisdictional transfer - and the overwhelming bureaucracy they subjected a person to - were a long and beautiful tradition that mostly prevented local lords from trying to muscle in on shipping lanes and interplanetary space. If a local enforcer did bag someone outside of their territory, they¡¯d have a review by the Cross Cosmic Enforcer assigned to their sector. Most of the locals Thad knew would never survive a review without getting themselves thrown in prison. Or without getting their lord thrown in prison. There just wasn¡¯t any wiggle room with a Croc. So, getting to interplanetary space was usually the same as getting away safely. Push your reactor hard for a big burst of acceleration, and bam, you¡¯re out of the clutches of the law. Except this time, the moron following him continued into Thad¡¯s safe zone, and he wasn¡¯t letting up. Thad had tried whipping around shipping lane traffic, then doubling back and forth past asteroids and a local moon, but this loaf was persistent. Thad¡¯s next best bet was to direct more power to the engines and see if he could flat outrun the bastard, but the ever-useless street rat was having trouble working through the chase because he ''didn''t have mag boots''. Little idiot even tried to stop working after he broke a finger during a hard corkscrew. Safety shoes were for babies, and the kid had other fingers he could use. Thad leaned his head back and roared towards the reactor. ¡°I swear to the all-god, if you don¡¯t finish your damn job in the next 30 seconds, I¡¯m gonna dump you out the airlock to slow this loaf down!¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Ten seconds later, the kid¡¯s voice called out that he was done. Thad smiled at himself. People just needed the right kind of motivation to work hard. Dumping the kid would¡¯ve been a decent idea to escape, too, if the airlock was actually powered and working. No way this loaf would leave a person to die like that. Thad rolled out of the way of a heat beam, and the torque of the movement stressed the Wheathop¡¯s aging frame. The metal sang its pained tune, but the pitch told Thad he hadn¡¯t reached the limit of what his old ship could do. He came out of the roll into a steep climb, pulling out of the dwarf planet''s gravity well. It was time to end this chase.
+ Reid + Reid swore as his work was undone again. The break in his arm wasn¡¯t clean, so reattaching fragments of bone to each other took up most of his initial work. It was tedious, and he was getting aggravated. His efforts were set back almost every time the ship lurched or rolled, as impacts and force aggravated or re-broke parts of his arm. It didn''t help that his energy was behaving differently than usual. It was both more potent and faster, and it made the kind of detail work he was doing difficult. The entire experience felt like his arm was being stabbed and beaten with bats at the same time, and it was also unbearably itchy. He was close now, just a few splintered pieces and the main break. He braced himself against the top left and bottom right corners of the cage with his legs and healthy arm. His skin indented as he pushed into the metal to secure himself, and concentrated. In addition to the less-than-ideal situation, and the trouble with his energy, Reid was now even more parched, hungry, and exhausted because of the work it took just to get this far along. Stopping to refuel himself simply wasn''t possible, and he didn''t want to sleep here without finishing, so he forced himself onward. Bits of bone reached out to one another from each side of the break, tiny stalactites and stalagmites of living calcification that connected and solidified and grew in sequence to mend him. Reid didn''t try for a full regrowth of the lattice or reinforcements his arm should''ve had - that would take too much time and energy to accomplish. Instead, he set his arm back in place with enough of a fix to make it a functional bone. Reid collapsed onto the floor of the cage and panted. His head pounded, he felt like he had mosquito bites inside his arm that he needed to scratch, his mouth was dry and his stomach ached, but he was whole again. Reid flexed his hand and twisted his wrist, satisfied with the results of his work. He''d started to get a bit more familiar with the new feeling of his energy during the process - and decided the best way to describe it was that everything felt more abundant and potent at the same time. Like he was controlling a river of deep ocean water during his healing, instead of guiding a creek. Arm fixed. Next was escape ¨C and nose plugs. Still needed those. Reid rose to his knees inside the crate and moved towards the open slot in front of him. The slack in the chain around his neck was meant to stop his face from actually touching the door, though his arms could both reach. That was fine. He just needed to see outside, just a bit, to figure out how he could open the door. From there, he could rest and recover, then make something out of bone to turn a handle, or pick a lock. With a bit of rest, he¡¯d be able to bone-guyver his way out of this situation. Reid chuckled at his pun - and realized he might have reached that point of exhaustion where he got a bit loopy. He braced both hands on the links of chain closest to his collar. A good pull and he¡¯d be able to see outside. Reid flexed and strained to get his head forward to the slot. The chain pulled taut, and something behind the back wall clicked three times before a massive electric current coursed through the chain, the collar, and into Reid. He spasmed violently as his muscles all locked. The shock and strain quickly knocked him unconscious.
<~\ Walt /~> Walt let out a breath through pursed lips and made sure his sensors were all recording. The ship he was pursuing was known to be used for petty crimes, and in any normal circumstances, he would¡¯ve already passed responsibility for the chase onto his Sector¡¯s CCE. But these were far from normal circumstances. His quarry had violated a protected heritage zone¡¯s barrier. Disturbing a heritage zone was a serious offense, and they¡¯d doubled the issue by imposing on Earth¡¯s first, and arguably most important protected site. One that also happened to be his childhood home, where he''d lost his brother. His initial readings of the area showed a rather targeted plot. The criminals, led by a bit of scum that called himself Thad, had pretended to crash land near the site. They must¡¯ve entered on foot, then either destroyed or stole the statue of the Progenitor''s father from the center of the area. The disgusting animals had even smeared some sick on the dedication obelisk. Earth had certainly made enemies over the years, but normally the backing of the Blasdej Consortium stopped things like this from boiling over. Damaging the heritage site that Blasdej had sponsored was akin to attacking them directly, and Walt had to think nobody was really dumb enough to do that. But, the stupidity of criminals never ceased to amaze him. This Thad was scum, but also a surprisingly competent pilot. Flitting between inhabited solar bodies and public traffic zones had stopped Walt from engaging with proper weaponry. The few times he was clear to fire a heat pulse at the ship¡¯s engines, the old transport ship had violently rolled out of the way or dodged. He winced at the thought of damaging a ship¡¯s frame with haphazard moves like that. The ship had changed tactics a few seconds ago, from flitting between bits of cover to a steep climb directly away from the gravity well they were both in. He¡¯d been doing this job long enough to recognize someone trying to do a charged jump, and could already see the engines pulsing themselves ready. There was only one response to that. He couldn¡¯t copy the move. It was highly illegal - primarily because it released a violent and unpredictable pulse of wild mana. If any lifeform nearby wasn¡¯t properly shielded, they could suffer permanent mutations to their biology ¨C or even worse, their skills. He recalled an information packet that even claimed an instance where an uncommon stoneworking skill had morphed into one that only functioned when the mason worked with his feet instead of his hands. Anything to do with wild mana was highly regulated and unquestionably stopped unless it happened in a laboratory setting. It was why, in recent years, the official response to a charged jump was set as a full lethal destruction. Having a mandate to destroy the ship wasn¡¯t usually an issue for Walt ¨C but if Thad did have the statue of the Progenitor¡¯s father in their hold, Walt would also be destroying a piece of Earth¡¯s history. He shook the thought, and spoke aloud to the microphone near his console. ¡°Enforcer Walter Anderson, noting this incident per statute one-seven-theta. Fleeing criminal Thadden Wheatnick of the Wheathop is considered guilty of breaching and damaging a protected heritage site on Earth, planet A39245ULD94. Subject is pulsing engines consistent with the build up to a charged jump, recorded in this log by my ship¡¯s sensors. We are in international space, quadrant also recorded by sensors. This sector is the jurisdiction of Fozzune Hoimchal, and this recording and data packet will be sent to him at the conclusion of this incident. Now deploying high explosive ordinance in accordance with jump response procedure." Walt''s fingers tapped a pair of screens, and his vessel shook. "Missiles away.¡± CH 74: Crossed Wires <]]) Thad ([[> A clanging alarm rang out from Thad¡¯s console. This was not good. He¡¯d started the jump procedure, which meant pointing the ship at the direction he needed to go, then pulsing the engines in an oscillating pattern until they reached the critical point, and releasing a mass of extra energy from the mana reactor. The issue with that right now was the whole ¡®point straight forward and don¡¯t move¡¯ bit. This loaf, the current bane of his existence, was seriously messed in the head. He never expected the idiot to actually fire missiles at him. It was a guaranteed, in-person visit from the sector Croc. Not even the good loafs wanted that crap. But here Thad was, again cursing the idiot and their entire family line. There were few things a ship could do in this situation. The engines couldn¡¯t be powered down quickly now that they were in oscillation, and if he did abruptly shut off power, he¡¯d fry any active circuits and lines in his ship. If he maneuvered with the oscillation going, he¡¯d lose his chance to jump where he needed to go ¨C and the engines would both explode if they didn¡¯t get the jump surge at the right time, which would not end well. If he sent the surge early, he¡¯d brick his ship for at least an hour before things could get brought back online. A charged jump was a tricky move on its own, which is why only the brave, experienced pilots attempted it. And an experienced pilot always had a trick behind the ear. Thad slammed a hand onto the side of his life systems console until the false panel fell away. Inside was a simple set of controls with a single viewscreen, and it blinked to life as Thad powered it on. This was one of the most illegal things he kept on his ship. War systems were made for military ships and trade escorts. There were usually some limited systems on the ruling class¡¯s personal crafts, and even those were closely monitored and regulated. But there were always methods to acquire things if you had the right connections. Thad¡¯s system consisted of a single, non-targeting laser hidden at the front of his ship, and a series of countermeasures in the rear. He preferred to avoid ship to ship combat, so getting away from a fight meant far more than winning one. The only time he¡¯d ever used the laser was to intimidate a stranded corsair¡¯s crew to let him aboard. The countermeasures saw a fair share of use, and had saved him more than once after after transactions that had gone sideways. Using any of his options for missile countermeasures now meant getting the Wheathop flagged for it - and from then on every enforcer would have more to gain from turning him in than turning a blind eye. It would kill his ability to finish future work. Using the system now was the same as scrapping the Wheathop with his own hands. It was still better than dying. Thad swore and slammed the countermeasures button down.
+ Reid + An industrial beep and the clang of metal pulled Reid back to consciousness. He blinked as a strong wind whipped around him in the cage. He knelt up and looked out the metal slot as he tried to catch his breath. The block of metal crates that had been secured together was shaking, and one after another they tumbled down and towards the far wall. A nail-on-chalkboard screech accompanied the bulk of the remaining crates sliding together towards the wall, then¡­ out. Dull silver cubes floated out onto a black canvas illuminated by tiny pinpricks of light. Reid braced himself against the cage and fought to breathe. The cargo hatch door was open to vacuum.
<~\ Walt /~> Walt continued his narration for the recording. ¡°Ordinance contact in five, four, thr ¨C¡° A flash filled his viewport and he turned to the sensor readings. ¡°Early detonation. Wheathop¡¯s cargo bay doors are open. Looks like they dumped their load to stop the missiles. Uncertain what in the cargo could¡¯ve given the 0-4¡¯s a legitimate signature to detonate on. Need to investigate further later on. Sending another volley.¡±
<]]) Thad ([[> The clanging alarm had paused for a glorious few seconds, but it was back, again, and Thad¡¯s countermeasure controls were dead - which meant he was out, or the system was broken. There was also a trill warning that the air pressure in the cargo bay was rapidly dropping. Thad assessed the situation. The countermeasures must have all popped off at once, popped late, and the resulting explosion from the missile had torn a hole somewhere in the cargo bay walls. Not a terrible outcome, but they¡¯d be cutting the jump close to the arrival of the next set of missiles. He barked behind him, ¡°Kid ¨C go close up any holes in the cargo bay. When you¡¯re done, make sure my bumpkin is still alive!¡± Thad turned back to his control panel. He watched the missiles on the console as they raced towards the Wheathop. Seconds ticked by, his eyes flitting between the engine readouts and the approaching missiles. Sweat formed under Thad¡¯s brow and soaked into the fur of his ears ¨C this was going to be closer than he wanted. The thrum of the mana reactor shook through the hull of the Wheathop. The oscillations were rapid now, rebounding from one side to the other as the engines did their best to contain the surging power within. A building whirr emanated from the cables running between the reactor and the engines. Thad¡¯s hand shook as it hovered over the controls. He heard the crescendo before he saw it, the rhythm of the oscillations reaching an apex as the energy begged to be carried out of the engines. His palm was already slamming the button on the console when it blinked green to tell him the surge was ready. The Wheathop groaned and let out a sound like a massive popping balloon as it lurched forward, into space, into safety. The energy from the charge jump wouldn''t run out for a long while now, and they¡¯d keep going straight towards their eventual destination without him needing to touch the controls. A stray asteroid or unlucky ship could turn their journey into a fatal crash, but the likelihood of something like that was so low it wasn¡¯t even worth a second thought.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The jump should put them just outside of the Alfax space, where he¡¯d meet up with DenWu to sell this cargo. Depending on the crusty armadillo''s mood, he might also be interested in purchasing the country bumpkin and the street rat. The kid was slightly useful, sure, but Thad already had a mechanic - there was no need to keep the kid around once this job was done. Thad settled into his chair and grabbed his flask. The bitter liquid numbed his throat. He opened the notification blinking in the corner of his vision. This was always the worst part of the jump, and he didn''t want to be sober for it. WARNING! Exposure to volatile mana detected NOTICE: Exposure to volatile mana has affected skill, shoveling [basic]. Skill growth may only be achieved by shoveling dirt. Thad nodded. It was a bad skill, and he¡¯d only used it once, when tales of ancient pirates burying treasure led him to ruin a local field with half a dozen holes. He took another swig. There were always two impacts from a charged jump. In his experience, they tended to follow a pattern. One was always a restriction to one of your existing skills, and the second was random. Most common were changes to stats - either good or bad. There were also biological mutations ¨C which Thad had received when he lost his nose. Last were zero-skills. Zero-skills were all but useless things that were basically guaranteed to never benefit the recipient in any way, called that because their rarity was always undefined. Thad readied a mirror before viewing the notification for the second change, a not-small part of him wishing his ears had grown larger - or that he''d get his nose back. NOTICE: Exposure to volatile mana has reduced stat ¨C Intelligence from 5 to 2 ¡°Fract.¡±
./\.+ Lycra +./\. Lycra scratched the back of his neck. Things were¡­ complicated. He¡¯d already seen his notifications ¨C one was a full restriction to his running skill. Full restrictions were rare, but not unheard of. That was coupled with something¡­ new. NOTICE: Exposure to volatile mana has imparted new skill, mana lattice engineer [undefined]
Mana Lattice Engineer [undefined] Understanding and learning related to Mana reactor technology substantially improved. When working with Mana reactor technology, gain a boost to all stats, health, and mana. This skill improves as the user levels or invents new advancements in Mana reactor technology.
It was¡­ insane. No zero skill was something that people could actually want. They were supposed to be utterly useless. He¡¯d never even heard a rumor of something like this happening. This skill could be his ticket to a better life. He could pay off his servitude, and eat fresh meals. Heck, he could work on larger ships or even earn enough to rent out a room somewhere. But... the most appealing part was actually being good at doing what he loved. Lycra had fallen in love with mana reactors on a rainy day, when water pooled on the edges of the street and ran into the gutters. He''d chased a floating piece of bread until it slipped down the grates and into the pipes below. His sense of defeat and his aching stomach were both momentarily forgotten when he stood and saw the beautiful blue structure glowing through the workshop window. It was a dazzle of color and intricate workings that pulled him like a gravity well. From that moment on - he was hooked. He dedicated his life to moving himself into the orbits of scrapyards and chop shops and even repair stations just to be close to the technology. Only his lack of a formal education was holding him back. There was only so much you could learn from an inert crystal attached to broken piping - sitting outside of a ship. The zero skill he''d been given was unimaginably great. The complication was figuring out how he could live long enough for it to matter. Lycra had rushed the final repairs due to Thad''s ceaseless prodding, and while things had looked fine on the surface, his hasty work jumbled two connections and their control links. Possibly a minor issue. Potentially a major one - and this had proven itself a major one. Thad had attempted to deploy countermeasures. All smugglers had them and every single one of them thought it was some grand secret, that each of them was the only special idiot that could get their hands on decommissioned war tech. Except, Thad''s countermeasures never fired. Instead, their control command opened the cargo Bay door. Lycra had nearly died closing the door with its local control panel - which was, thankfully, not impacted by his wiring mistake. Nearly getting sucked into hard vacuum was not on his list of things to try. He''d been half tempted to just leave the door open - but he couldn''t doom the prisoner to suffocate. So his softness had once again put him in danger, and he''d once again gotten out of it okay. The cargo... was not okay. None of the illicit goods remained, and the only thing left in the bay were cages and lockers mounted and welded to the walls. Thad was going to kill Lycra for losing the cargo. He¡¯d probably be killed even more slowly if the human was also dead. Lycra felt awful for the man. No one deserved to be bound and caged, and Lycra had seriously considered telling Thad he wouldn''t fix the reactor unless the man was let go. He didn''t do it, but he imagined himself doing it. Air pressure still hadn''t returned to a comfortable level, but at least it was breathable. He hoped the bulky man Thad had kidnapped and savaged was still safe in his cage. At this point, with the cargo gone, he might be in a better position than Lycra. Lycra''s fingernails scratching against the back of his neck broke through the thin skin before he realized his nervous tick was acting up again. He¡¯d been beaten and berated, kicked and starved for mistakes before, but... Thad was the first one in a while that actually scared him. Lycra dreaded what would happen when he found out about the cargo. An idea weaved its way into Lycra¡¯s mind like a tendril, wrapping itself around all of his other thoughts until it was the only thing that he could focus on. Lycra couldn''t avoid the coming trouble from losing the cargo, but neither could Thad. Thad¡¯s boss was their buyer, and that meant Thad would be punished for causing the issue, and Lycra might be able to slip out during that commotion. Two step plan. Free the prisoner, and then slip away. He just needed to keep Thad out of the cargo bay. Okay, so three step plan. Thad had proven to be a lazy, entitled, and sloppy captain. If Lycra just... lied, and told Thad nothing was wrong, he would never come down and check on the cargo himself. Once they landed, Lycra could run into the streets, find an alley, and start over again. There were always scrap yards that needed someone who knew how to deal with mana reactors, and there were always ships with cheap captains that he could use to replanet. The prisoner - well, he needed to actually interact with the man before making any concrete plans that included him. Once he did, he''d be able to make a decision. Lycra had learned to read people from a young age - so he always knew who to trust. Lycra jumped in fright when the human¡¯s cage rattled. He corkscrewed two fingers together - superstition never hurt anyone - and hoped the noise meant the man had lived through the ordeal. He slowly approached the disgusting cage. Years of filth had seeped into the pores of the metal and become part of it, and Lycra unbound his fingers to cover his nose. When Thad had brought the naked native on to the ship, Lycra had insisted on putting him in a frock. Not just because people normally wore clothes, but because he knew firsthand how bad it was to have bare skin touching a filthy cage floor. He was happy to see the man still wore the frock, and made a mental note that he probably hadn¡¯t been naked by choice. Nakedness had its place in the cosmos, but humans were not a species known for going bare. Any humanoid race, really, were expected to wear some kind of clothing. The human made a noise between a groan and a growl as he hunched forwards. Lycra announced himself and tapped on the side of the cage. The man jumped, slammed his bald head into the top of the cage, and crumpled to the floor. Lycra saw him check the slack on the chain before he knelt back up. He¡¯d probably already triggered the electric shock. Lycra shivered at the thought and pushed past the unfortunate memories of his own years in chains. He put a hand on the slider opening as he introduced himself. ¡°Sorry for scaring you. I¡¯m Lycra, and ¨C¡° The man extended himself just to the edge of the safety zone before the shock would''ve hit him. He caught Lycra by the arm and yanked him hard into the metal door. The man''s grip was iron, and the corners of his eyes seemed to glow with red light. He grunted out two words. ¡°Open. Now.¡± CH 75: Life-Trust + Reid + The alien''s arm was light, and fragile. It shivered as Reid held it against the front of the cage, and raised a four-fingered hand in a placating gesture. Reid''s first two words had barely rumbled out of his mouth. He was still dehydrated - and spent. Reid tried to clear his throat. ¡°Open up the cage now or I''ll kill you, your buddy with the knock-out stick, and every other alien on this ship.¡± The thing grimaced, and looked - almost dejected. It shook its head at Reid and spoke. "I have a name. It''s Lycra. What''s yours?" Reid tightened his grip on the alien''s arm. Lycra winced. "I am not your enemy! There are three people on this ship. You, me, and Thad. Thad wants to kill both of us - or he will soon. I''m just as much a prisoner here as you." "Then. Let. Me. Out. Of. Here." Reid felt his energy failing him. He was still only barely awake. He had no idea how he''d fight anyone or anything in his current state. But he was ready to fight for freedom. Lycra nodded vigorously. "That''s the plan, but you have to promise me something. I have to go tell Thad you''re fine - and he''ll have some liquids and nutrients you can consume. If I let you out, you have to let me go do that while you stay here or we''re both going to die, alright?" Reid tightened his grip. "You''re lying." The alien let out an exasperated hiss. ¡°Were you awake when the door opened ¨C when all those stor-cubes, the shiny boxes wooshed out into space?¡± Reid nodded. ¡°That was Thad¡¯s cargo. He doesn¡¯t know it¡¯s gone. If he knows you''re free, he¡¯ll knock you out again. If he finds out I accidentally made him dump all the goods, he¡¯s going to kill me. Painfully. We¡­ Are¡­ On¡­ The¡­ Same¡­ Side.¡± Reid loosened his grip a bit. ¡°Good. Good. I''ll go tell Thad we''re fine. That will stop him from checking in on us, and we can both escape when we land. So you just need to let go of me, and I¡¯ll let you out.¡± Reid cocked an eyebrow. "And you''ll come back with food?" The alien nodded vigorously again and bared a vampiric smile. "Yes, yes yes! Reid let go of Lycra''s arm, and the alien''s deft fingers seemed to curl and bend at odd angles as it opened the front door, then unhooked Reid from the shock collar. Reid crawled out into the cargo bay, and took in his surroundings. The smell wasn''t nearly as bad once he was outside the cage. Old, stained and scraped metal on every surface told a story of cargo in prior hauls that tumbled around the area, loose. A worn ladder led up to a balcony, and three closed doors. The alien before him was small. Less than five feet tall, it had oversized bat-like ears on the sides of a smooth, hairless, round head covered in grey-green skin. It watched him closely with two large, bright yellow eyes. Its nostrils were flat like a gorilla''s, and a set of pointed, vampiric teeth lined its mouth. Standing there, smiling - it actually looked... cute? Like a puppy, or a teddy bear... maybe a goblin teddy bear. "Wow. You are LARGE. Tough to sneak. Maybe fight? No, not with a broken arm." Lycra was scratching the back of its neck. "Stay here, or we both die. Don''t touch anything. I''ll be back soon. Oh - or do touch! There are lockers there. Open them all, they have flight suits. Better than frocks. You can pee in a flight suit." Reid wasn''t sure if he was overexerted or overtired, but he felt himself starting to warm up to the little alien. Not a lot - but the thing seemed to actually be considerate. If he was right, and this thing wasn''t an enemy - Reid didn''t want to completely start out on the wrong foot. Just like with Danny, he''d lashed out first and asked questions later. He called out as Lycra crested the ladder. "Reid." "What?" "My name is Reid. Nice to meet you." The alien looked confused for a moment, nodded, and stepped through the leftmost door. # Reid was sleeping, leaned up against the wall in a less-gross ''flight suit'' - really a jumpsuit with a pee pouch and cuffs that compressed themselves around his ankles and wrists - when the alien returned. Lycra scrambled down the ladder carrying a small metal box, thankfully alone. When he reached the cargo bay floor, he nodded twice at Reid and sat down across from him. Inside the metal box were two plastic bottles and a pile of thin, green-brown rectangles that had a series of ridges reminiscent of chocolate bars. The alien gestured at it. ¡°I told Thad I''d feed you. He gave me this container - told me to ''make sure he sells high''.¡± Lycra''s eyes went distant for a moment before he shook his head. ¡°No one should be sold. It is not right." His eyes widened and regained the sparkle of excitement they seemed to carry. "I also brought water ¨C clean water, yes. Not even recycled. Ah, the nutribars are a processed food. Protein and vitamins. These are very good. They even have antiviral and antifungal medicines mixed in. High quality replete rations.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. It took only moments for Reid¡¯s starvation to overwhelm his caution and he tore into one of the bars. It was chewy, crunchy, and a bit tart - but honestly tasted quite good. Much better than most of the protein bars he''d been forcing down in Sanctuary. He grabbed a second bar and wolfed that one down, too before chugging half of his bottle of water. There were another three bars in the container, but he didn''t want to be rude by eating more than half the meal. Lycra¡¯s yellow eyes were wide in shock. Reid stopped poking at bits of the bar still stuck in his teeth and gave the alien a worried look. He was in an odd space with an odd fellow, and he had no idea what he''d done wrong. ¡°Are... are you not supposed to eat them with your hands?¡± The alien shook his head. ¡°A nutribar is a high quality, replete ration.¡± Reid still didn''t know what the alien was getting at. Was he supposed to say thank you? Or some kind of ''grace'' before eating? ¡°Yeah, thank you for sharing them. They taste pretty good, too... Are you going to eat yours?¡± Lycra ran a hand over his face. ¡°I am not explaining right. Replete rations are..." The alien looked like it was exasperatedly trying to come up with the words to explain, then huffed. The huff made its ears wriggle. "Reid, you just ate two week¡¯s worth of food.¡± Oh, shit. ¡°oh.¡± Lycra made a wiggle-wave motion with one hand as he lifted it towards the ceiling. "Dust is dust. We will find more rations after we escape. I hear there is good work on Denduram." A chill crept over Reid. The cargo bay doors had been open to hard vacuum. In space. Space meant not Earth. And Lycra had said on Denduram, not in Denduram. "Lycra, how far is Denduram from Earth?" The alien''s eyes fell to the floor. "Far. Do you have family to go back to?" A long pause stretched between them. Reid was tempted to storm the cockpit of this ship and turn them around - but in his current state, Thad could just knock him out with the concussion stick again. It would probably be easier to steal the ship and fly it home once they reached their destination; after all, Reid would have recovered at least a bit by then. Or maybe they could charter another ship. Or contact that Blasdej company he''d seen on the obelisk. Best option - Reid could just find the police and tell them who he was, then get a phone call home. "Yes. Maybe? A wife and a daughter - I think." The alien tilted its head. Like a puppy. "You do not know?" "It''s... complicated. What about you, any family to go home to?" Lycra gave a sad, tooth-filled smile. "I am alone, and home is no place. I live where I live, and go where I go." The thought of having nothing and no one honestly, truly terrified Reid. It sounded so very lonely. But like usual, Reid wasn''t exactly a fountain of reassuring conversation. "I''m sorry." Lycra wiggle-waved his hand up into the air. "Dust is dust. I..." He swallowed, then blinked at Reid a few times. "You... really meant that." "Well, yeah? I''m sorry you had to go through that. Whatever it was." Lycra scratched the back of his neck for a few moments. "Reid, will you share a life-trust with me?" "... I have absolutely no idea what that is." "I believe you are good. Good like I try to be. A life-trust is a promise to help and share with one another. It means we will work together when we land, to get free. And it means we will tell each other of our lives." "You want to do all that because I said I was sorry for you?" Lycra shook his head. "Not because you said it. Because it was true." # # Making a pact with the second alien he''d ever met may not have been the wisest choice, but Reid felt certain in his gut that Lycra was, indeed, a good ''person''. And if he was wrong - it wasn''t some contract enforced agreement, just a promise between... friends. Had Reid made an alien friend? As the two of them spoke, the rations Reid had eaten were slowly digested and absorbed into his system - and they were doing wonderful work. He felt more energized, with less of the soreness and fatigue he''d been dealing with the entire time since he''d woken up. If the rations were meant to last two weeks, and Reid wasn''t even topped up right now, he must''ve been half-dead before. Half-dead, and I still put up a good fight against Thad. He''d learned that Lycra''s earliest memories were of living on the street, being used by older orphans to panhandle around a smog-covered city. Lycra didn¡¯t know if his parents were actually dead, but he¡¯d never known his last name - and apparently things like DNA testing didn''t work too well at a multi-planetary or solar-system level. Even if one could afford to try. Lycra had also shared the stories of how he''d scarred an ear when he tried to make a reactor fire up using a fractured crystal. He spoke at length about his experience wearing a shock collar like Reid had, where the device administered the electricity directly into the back of your neck. It was apparently the same spot the alien often scratched. He had another two scars on the top of his head from a time a rival at a scrapyard found out Lycra was first in line for an upcoming job, and kicked him over a railing. His eyes lit up whenever he talked about reactors and ships. He rubbed his neck whenever the topics steered into uncomfortable territories. The more Lycra shared, the more Reid grew to feel a kindred spirit for the alien. He''d been dealt bad hands by fate - just like Reid. And he was still trying to make good choices and pursue the things he wanted. In a way, Lycra felt like a younger version of himself that he needed to take care of. Reid realized he hadn''t shared much about his own past. He spent a while describing life - and attempted to keep things just a bit vague. Lycra learned about how he''d met his wife young, and how their parents had helped raise Sara. He shared how he''d had his life upended by an irresponsible person, and that he had a part to play in the issue as well. The alien''s eyes practically glowed with excitement. "You are a fighter. You fought the man who killed your parents, and you fought Thad. How strong are you? What else have you fought?" "I''m... pretty strong, I guess. I''ve fought Coyotes, and an Elk - and, AND. I had to fight a bunch of lizards." Lycra had his head tilted, so Reid explained. "Coyotes are canids - four legs, fur, big teeth. Elk are large - taller than me, with bone growing out their heads. And the stupid lizards - they were annoying. They had red backs and crystal claws. You had to kill them by hitting them in the head, or they''d always regenerate." Lycra wore a pout-like frown. "You break the life-trust? I... cannot tell. Reid, please do not lie." "No! I swear. Coyotes and Elk are common animals, and the Lizards - well, the Salamanders I guess - were, too. We had to kill a bunch of little ones, plus a great big one that had a claw attack skill, and a roar that paralyzed people." Lycra''s eyes narrowed, and his gaze scanned through invisible text. Reid tried to speak with him, but he held his hand up flat in a gesture that seemed to mean ''wait''. "You... came from Earth... fought salamanders... What was your daughter''s name again... Please." It was an odd request, but Reid decided to oblige. "Sara." The alien kept staring at him, waiting. "Calderwall? Sara Calderwall." Lycra shifted his focus to Reid''s arm - the one that had been in a cast, before Reid ripped it off. His eyes slowly went wide, and he walked over to Reid and placed a hand where the bone had been broken. His eyes shifted up, full of admiration. "Reid... Calderwall. Father of the Pathfinder Progenitor." CH 76: Never Meet Your Heroes "Reid Calderwall. Father of the Pathfinder Progenitor." He had seen that title on the obelisk in Sanctuary. The alien recognized his name, and his power - and knew his daughter. Sara was famous - massively, interplanetarily famous. Enough that a homeless orphan from a faraway world was aware of her enough that he recognized her by name. Hope and emotion welled inside of Reid and washed away all other thought. "Sara and Susan - How do you know them? Are they okay? Are they still on Earth?" Lycra smiled and his yellow eyes glowed in admiration. "Viewscreen stores. Almost as good as reactor stores. On the slow days, I''d watch the programs through the shop windows. My favorite is the story of Merchall IV - where the hero and lord was given a quest to venture high into the trees and ride a bird to battle and victory! Companies make videos about the heroics of their awakened planets. Earth is an older program, but they do re-runs. It had the pathfinder, and it mentioned you and your osteomancy. But it said you were gone. Where have you been since the awakening? Were you in hiding? Secretly battling enemies? Are you on a secret quest now?" A hero. His daughter - his smart, wonderful, powerful daughter was a hero known throughout the universe. Reid was full of admiration and pride. He wanted to know more... but one detail bothered him. Reid shook his head. "Lycra, how old was Earth''s program? When did Earth awaken?" The alien blinked for a moment. "It was ten seasons, so... a thousand years." The words droned out of focus in his ears. A thousand. Not a hundred years. Not a little over that. An entire millennia had passed between killing the Titan and waking up. A well of condensed fear, ineptitude, worry, and sadness erupted deep within Reid. He let it carry his thoughts, and he vividly pictured a thousand scenes of Susan, old and dying, alone. He saw Sara, wrinkled and grey like his own grandmother had been, sitting in a wheelchair in front of the obelisk as she cried. Reid fell forward, and heaved on the cargo bay floor. # # The small alien continued to rub Reid''s back, and apologized for the seventh time. "I am sorry, Reid. I don''t understand, but I am sorry." Reid finally collected himself enough to raise his head. "I thought - I thought I''d been out for a fraction of that time, Lycra. If it''s been that long - I don''t even know if my family is still alive." Lycra stood and gave Reid a quizzical look. "Out? Your daughter is definitely still alive - she is the ruling planetary lord of Earth. Unless something happens, her rule should last for thousands of years more." Reid felt his heart slam in his chest. "You''re sure?" The alien nodded vigorously and showed off his vampiric teeth. "Yes yes yes. And Susan - she should still be alive too. Many from Earth reached higher grades. Those close to leadership often live close to the time of their rulers. Their natural lifespans will be long. Longer than you were... out. But what does that mean? Out?" Reid let the waves of relief wash over him. The entire journey since waking up so far had been a roller coaster of emotions about his wife and daughter, and he wanted to take a minute to let it all sink in. He held up a hand for Lycra to wait, and sat himself back against the cargo bay wall. The confirmation that they were alright slightly dampened Reid''s persistent itch to storm the cockpit and fight Thad for control of the ship. It gave him more wiggle room and options to get home - and honestly, made him feel good. His daughter and his wife had lived for over a thousand years, and would likely be around for a while longer. They''d gotten strong enough to do that. Reid wiped away a few tears from his eyes. They''d done so much, all on their own. Reid looked back at the alien before him, and wavered. Lycra had seemed to freely share information with Reid, and his response had been to try and deceive the creature. His ally - and maybe friend. "Lycra, why do you love the planetary awakening programs so much?" The alien tilted his head. "Being awakened - given purpose and quests to guide you - it is..." He looked up at the cargo bay ceiling. "I often dream of it. I get swept away to a newly awakened world, and the system itself guides me on a path to power. I am G grade, and I will die in G grade. But with access to the system''s quests, I could be so much more. I could be powerful enough to make my own way." Reid let the words linger in the air for a moment. "It wasn''t all that good, Lycra." He resolved himself to share his story. "Let me tell you what really happens during a planetary awakening." # Lycra listened with rapt attention as Reid took him through the entire story - the woods, Sanctuary, Bertrand, the Salamanders, and waking up to find the obelisk. He didn''t speak until Reid was done. "Truth." Reid smiled apologetically, "Yeah that''s how the awakening really was. Close to what you saw in the show?" Lycra shook his head, and smiled. "Better. But worse." He stood, and paced around the room. "Reid, your feats are mythical. Salamanders are exterminate-on-sight. When they''re found, Crocs - ah, Cross-Cosmic Enforcers - are dispatched to kill the entire species. If they aren''t sure they killed them all, they glass the planet." Lycra paused for effect. "You were supposed to ask why. Salamanders regenerate, and can only be killed by hitting them behind an absurdly thick and strong skull - you know that. But it takes an F grade to kill a peak G grade salamander. The Titan you fought should''ve been able to take over Earth. They are a menace, Reid! There are a handful of EOS species in the entire cosmos, and you fought one of them off before the tutorial. You killed things you should not have been able to. AND you did it unawakened. Which you weren''t... because of the beacon... almost killing you... " Lycra pout-frowned. "Reid, you cannot contact Blasdej."This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "What?" "Beacons do not hurt people. Not unless they are sabotaged. Blasdej''s programs always said you were the issue. They use your story to spread their awakening tools. They used it to pass laws limiting self-affixation, which was already a half-myth. But you were not the issue. It was their technology. That makes you a threat to them. You could damage their profits. Or their image." Lycra''s voice rose in pitch and sped up as he walked himself around the cargo bay. He put both palms together and wound his fingers around each other. "Storm of fates. This is amazing. YOU are amazing. Like a walking secret. OH! We should hide your identity. Body paint. Wigs. A new name!" Reid gave Lycra a quizzical look. "I''m not changing my name. I''ll contact Sara when we escape, and everything will be fine." Lycra pointed at Reid. "No formal channels! Blasdej would find out." "Then how the fuck am I supposed to get home?" Reid was getting annoyed now. Part of him knew that if Lycra was serious about this stuff, it could be a big problem. But it was still one Reid wanted to ignore. "Same plan. We escape, work, and find a charter to home. Long-lived family means we can take time to get back - and your self-affixer fighting powers can earn us more credits!" Reid spent a long time looking at the alien. "What if I don''t have that much time?" # # Lycra looked like a puppy that had been kicked. It had taken multiple explanations to convey that Reid did, in fact, still have his disease after the planetary awakening. He didn''t take the news well, and spent quite a while convincing Reid that they''d find a cure for him, together. The honest eagerness in the little alien had Reid warming up to Lycra even more. His short frame was again pacing around the cargo bay. "Okay, okay. Need to take stock. Plan. Reid, are you topped off?" Reid''s face contorted - and Lycra jumped back in. "Your health - is it full, or close?" He felt a bit embarrassed at the question. Reid hadn''t pulled up his status screen since he''d woken up - and he hadn''t checked his notifications... nor had he seen any. As he pulled on the thread for his status, a meaty notification popped into view.
PRIORITY NOTE TO SELF: Reid, please keep reading. I am Nyx, and I helped wake you up. You will be tired, hungry and thirsty. Please rest for an hour, then walk due West to reach water. If I''m not awake by then, try to forage for food. Do not, under any circumstances, interact with people, intelligent species, or any beacon technology. I''ll explain more later, but there are powerful people we need to avoid - for now. If you can''t avoid contact, don''t tell anyone your real name and keep your skills secret. Your daughter should still be alive, and safe. Please do not look for her - as you are right now, you''ll just cause her trouble. I suspect Susan is alive, too, but I can confirm that later for you. A lot of time has passed, so don''t be shocked if your surroundings look different than you remember. What I did to wake you would''ve taken a lot out of me - so I estimate I''ll be ''resting'' for anywhere from an hour to several days. I might not wake up. If I don''t, and you do - I''ve placed some other notes behind level prerequisites for you to read. Grow in power, and survive - for both of us. Your status screen will look a little different. Don''t freak out. I had to do some work on your internals to wake you, and you''ll have gotten an influx of any excess energy during the process that should result in a level or two. It''s all stuff you technically earned from the salamanders and that questline, just awarded at the actual XP rate instead of the restricted one. Keep raising your level. I want to have this talk in person, but as long as you consistently keep getting more powerful, your cancer shouldn''t be an issue in the short term. Short term being years. So yeah, hopefully good news for you to hear. Once you read this, you''ll be able to see any other notifications you''ve gotten, and you''ll be able to view your stats. Last, if you can, don''t touch a beacon until I''m awake. Please. Even if you don''t believe anything else in this message, believe that. -Nyx P.S. I know the Shackle was bad to you. It couldn''t help it. But the Shackle is gone now, and it''s just me. The one who helped bring you back from the dead. I hope I wake back up, too.
He slowly digested the message. The shackle - the absolute asshole piece of the system that had been embedded in his mind - was gone, and a new thing was there, that had apparently helped him wake up. Or revive. Reid hadn''t thought of himself as being dead - just... asleep. The use of the word stuck in his mind. There were too many mind-bending trains of thought that could lead him down, so he set it aside. This - seemed real. It was the second confirmation he''d gotten about Sara and Susan being alive. And the second warning to not interact with people under his own name. That ship sailed already with Lycra, but he could be more careful with everyone else. He''d missed his chance to follow other parts of the instructions - but not the one thing that mattered above the rest. Grow stronger. Reid had no idea if this Nyx was on his side, let alone being right about his cancer. But if Nyx really had brought him back, he was inclined to trust it. The advice was to gain levels and power. Levels for a longer life. Levels to gain enough power to return to his daughter without worrying about some corporate entity that wanted him dead. He just had to find a way to earn some. His path forward resolved in his mind, as uncomfortable as it felt. Going back to Earth was false security. Sure he''d reunite with Sara if he did, but he would be choosing to create a burden and problems for her - with enemies that might be more powerful than she was capable of dealing with. He would just be picking a fight on her behalf, with nothing to back it up. He needed to grow stronger - even if he didn''t know how strong he actually needed to be in order to not be a burden. Figuring that part out would come in time. Reid shut down his massive lingering desire to reach out to his family by telling himself he''d find a discreet way to get a message to them somehow, in time. Then he opened his status. He focused on the first two sections.
STATUS Name: Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 13 -> 23 Health: 188 / 350 Experience: 103,949 / 204,800 -> 155,184,200 / 209,715,200 STATS: Constitution: 35 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 6 Perception: 11 Power: 35 Control: 75 -> 125 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR
"Well, fuck me." The jumps were incredible. If he''d been earning this much xp for every salamander kill during their quests, Reid might''ve been able to kill the Titan without resorting to using his corrupted petrification skill. Over a hundred million experience... Reid did quick math and realized he was probably looking at thousands of experience for each salamander. He had no idea how to earn that much experience again - but if he had to find a way, he damn well would. Once he was able to get his stats raised, Reid felt like he''d have a pretty easy time taking down just about anything. With control at 125, his new per-stat cap would be 62.5. He could rest to let his health get back up higher, then dive in and nearly double his current power and constitution. With that much, he could definitely kick Thad''s ass. He also really needed to work on the other stats - but they could commandeer the ship on his power and constitution alone, Reid ventured. A few feet away, Lycra''s patience had very obviously run out. The alien leaned forward, into Reid''s space. "What happened? Is it bad? Did the volatile mana from the charge jump ruin one of your skills?" Reid''s revelry in his new gains immediately ceased. "The WHAT?!" CH 77: Rough Landing + Reid + Lycra rose a hairless eyebrow at Reid. "The changes. Everyone gets them when you go through a jump. They''ll be in your notifications... What were you so upset about if it wasn''t that?" Reid ignored the question and brought up his notifications.
WARNING! Exposure to volatile mana detected NOTICE: Exposure to volatile mana has affected skill, petrification [rare]. Skill removed. NOTICE: Exposure to volatile mana has imparted new passive skill, Accelerated Growth [undefined]
He swore. Reid wasn''t exactly planning on using petrification again, but he thought he''d be able to get access to the proper version of it, at least, by visiting a beacon. Which - he realized - he now wasn''t supposed to do until Nyx woke up. His life was getting too convoluted. The other notification, for the skill, intrigued him. He brought up the details.
Accelerated Growth [undefined] Passive Skill. Improves the rate at which user earns experience or increases stats and skills commensurate with Achievements. Increases chance of new skill unlocks commensurate with Achievements. Automatically sets all system events encountered by user to highest challenge level.
Reid flashed back to his status screen, and confirmed accelerated growth was listed under his skills. Petrification was gone. And he''d gained a new, blank area called Accolades that was just waiting for him to earn his first achievement. The skill sounded entirely great. If achievements worked like videogames, he just needed to find something rare or difficult to do, and then he''d be able to grow more quickly. The second part... Reid had already faced the Crimson Titan as a low-leveled fighter. There wasn''t too much he could imagine that he''d be afraid to fight against. If he was right, harder challenges might also mean more opportunities to gain achievements. If the amount of experience he needed for each level continued to rise, he was probably going to need every assist he could get. "Lycra, what do you know about achievements?" The alien''s mouth hung open. "They are rarely given, but grant boons to powerful warriors that showcase feats of strength and skill during quests... why?" Reid read his skill off. "Storm of Fate...." Lycra rose and grabbed Reid by both shoulders. "Thank you." "What?" "Reid, things like this don''t happen. Zero skills - like your accelerated growth - are supposed to be useless, random things. It''s just fact. Except you and I both got things that are incredibly useful to us, at the same time. Mine makes me better with Mana Reactor Tech. Yours will help you see your growth goals. Luck, that seems to be centered around you. Storm of fate." Reid nodded. "I don''t think I did anything, but it sounds like we both lucked out, mostly. More importantly, I got levels, and I can power myself up if I have enough time to rest. Once that''s done, I bet we can take Thad out, and then we can fly the ship wherever we want." Lycra was still holding Reid''s shoulders. "How strong...?" "Level 23 now, and when I get through everything, I''ll have 62 power and 62 constitution. Bet Thad can''t stand up to that." Lycra''s yellow eyes swelled and he staggered back, then fell onto the floor. "We could actually... no, you could actually-" Thad''s voice crackled through an overhead speaker. ¡°Kid, make sure my bumpkin is presentable, then stow yourself. Clean off the box if you haven¡¯t already. I set down in 3 minutes.¡± A series of heavy metallic thunks sounded out from the three doors, then other points above them. The lights on the cargo bay walls and control panel dimmed. Lycra looked like he was going to be sick. ¡°Okay, if we land in three minutes, I won''t have time to rest, but can still escape when the doors open, right?¡± Lycra shook his head slowly, and looked longingly towards the door controls on the far wall. ¡°I am sorry... I thought we had more time. It is landing protocol - for thieves. The cockpit is sealed, all other controls are turned off. We can¡¯t open the door from in here.¡± Reid nodded slowly, then asked again. ¡°But we can still escape when the doors open, right?¡± Lycra looked back at Reid. There were tears welled in his eyes. "The wires... they are still crossed."
<]]) Thad ([[> Thad inhaled sharply when Denduram came into view. The planet was a muddy jumble of reds and browns, a mostly barren surface dotted with heavy metal refineries, petrochemical processors, and mines. His first few times here, he¡¯d still had a nose, and he remembered the acidic, oily smell that clung in the air. He missed it.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He flew towards one of the larger mines. A massive circular pit was stepped as it descended into the ground, with a shaft disappearing into darkness at its center. Ships flew in and out of the hole, ferrying their payloads to the gleaming facility that wrapped a third of the way around the pit. Thad shuddered. There were some things you just shouldn¡¯t do, and piloting a ship through deep rock was one of them. The hole went nearly as far down as the atmosphere went up into the sky. Things like that just weren''t meant to be. His destination was a landing zone that butted against a midsized square office building, with a blast wall protecting the structure from any errant engine wash. DenWu liked to keep up appearances, so his city was clean, and his ¡°unofficial headquarters¡± were discreet. He even had real data jockeys working on the first floor. It was effective camouflage, and had let him survive half a dozen audits over the decades. Thad grinned. It had been a rough trip, but he had made it. He was still on guard for the exchange, but DenWu was solid, and Thad honestly liked the leathery old armadillo. He paid fairly well, had ample open jobs for pilots to work, and he always needed more bodies for the mines. Selling the kid and the bumpkin to him would net Thad a happy bonus. More if he actually let DenWu know what the man was capable of. He still hadn''t decided whether he''d set up a bidding war or not. Getting that monster off his ship felt like the best course of action, even if it lost Thad a little money in the long run. Thad feathered the throttle and deployed the landing struts, taking pride in the minimal shake that went through his ship as it contacted the ground. This dance was one he''d done countless times. Land at the agreed location, with external comms off. Lock down internal access panels in case of a double cross. Wait for the buyer to arrive before ever risking someone seeing the cargo you carried, and only then open up the cargo bay. Stay in the locked cockpit while the stash gets unloaded, then - and only then - come down for credits and handshakes. If DenWu''s men didn''t show up, it meant scrubbing the deal, and hoping for a chance to complete it later. There were times that had happened - when unexpected visitors prevented DenWu from completing a transaction. All the risk in those instances were on Thad, though. DenWu was nothing if not good at insulating himself from the consequences of his business. When he finally saw DenWu''s men assembling behind him, Thad celebrated with a swig off his flask, then hit the button for the cargo bay doors.
(((..-- DenWu --..))) DenWu was pacing in the corner office overlooking the pad when Thad landed. It was time for answers. The databoys had found official CCE communications mentioning Thad¡¯s ship. Not unheard of, but the message also said that the ship had dumped its cargo and jumped away to escape an enforcer. Three issues there. One, it put the ship on a wanted list that was best kept away from DenWu¡¯s holdings. Two, it tied any surviving cargo to DenWu if enforcers tracked the ship to its current landing pad. Three, it meant Thad had still decided to show his face on Denduram, when DenWu''s cargo was slagged in deep space. DenWu¡¯s ears flicked and he gave the order for his men to act normal, then take Thad in by force. No matter what, he was going to need to scrap the ship. The pilot and crew, he wanted to question. He knew Thad wouldn''t like the idea of getting rid of the Wheathop. He¡¯d enjoy the penance for his failure far less. The man had always been afraid of the deep darkness. As his men arrayed themselves around the cargo bay door, an assault group with weapons drawn waited behind the blast wall, ready for a fight. The seconds stretched on. DenWu found himself tempted to break his own communications blackout rules. Then - there was movement from the tail of Thad''s aged, poorly-maintained hauler. Four circles of metal came off the ship with a ¡®thump¡¯ and clanged as they fell to the ground. A second later - chaff, a wave of red hot barrels, and even crystal dust blasted out from the four openings. His men screamed and fell as they were shredded and burned by the anti-missile countermeasures. The blast wall cracked as projectiles thwumped against it, then ricocheted back into the ship. They tore holes through the hull, peppered the engines, and pinged off the cockpit. Pieces bounced up and out of the landing pad. They landed on DenWu''s office buildings and elicited screams from the workers inside. One engine split in half from the damage, and the other sagged on weakened mounts. The cargo door sported a few holes, but was still shut. When the rush of projectiles finally stilled, DenWu slammed his tail into the floor and set his communicator to the assault team still hunkered down behind the blast wall. He worked hard to keep his temper out of his voice. ¡°Get the doors open, then scrap the ship. Try not to kill the crew. But do not kill Thad. His life is mine.¡±
+ Reid + Reid was shackled, laying sideways on a debris-littered metal pad. A large wall in front of him was marred with dents, cracks, and viscera. A hulking guard in polymer armor held a long rod connected to a collar around Reid¡¯s neck. They slammed Reid back to the ground when he tried to stir. A few feet away, a bipedal armadillo in ornate leather stood over a mangled Thad. Another guard held a pole attached to Thad¡¯s collar. He didn¡¯t need to do much to keep Thad prone. Both of his arms were limp, bent in too many places. Thad was letting out quick, raspy whimpers. He blubbered out something Reid couldn¡¯t make out, and the guard twisted a section of the pole. Thad spasmed violently at the electric shock from the collar. He didn¡¯t try speaking again. The armadillo¡¯s voice was terse and low. ¡°Enough. You killed my men. You failed to kill me. Your crew failed to kill me. Your shame is not washed clean, and your endeavors come to nothing.¡± The armadillo stomped on one of Thad¡¯s legs until it bent with a sickening crunch, then did the same with the other. Thad was electrocuted when he screamed. The armadillo gestured to a thin woman with a bald head. She knelt over Thad, hands emitting a faint green glow. When she stood, Thad¡¯s arms and legs were knitted back together, but his eyes were closed. The woman¡¯s voice was surprisingly gentle. ¡°He has hit the healing limit. I will not be able to repair further damage until a week from now. He is also unconscious - my apologies for not waking him before the limit was reached, I assumed he would last to eight cycles.¡± She bowed her head at the armadillo. ¡°Unfortunately, this one''s unique mutation would render smelling salts ineffective. Should you like to continue, our order does have other methods to awaken those in his state.¡± The armadillo shook his head. ¡°Thank you for your services, Maven Indira. I must allow my anger to be sated. Now - I will be repaid.¡± He looked at Reid, then at an unconscious Lycra beside him. Reid tried to speak, but he managed a single syllable before the shock collar engaged and sent his muscles tearing themselves in frantic motion. The armadillo held up a hand, and the shock stopped. Reid panted into the dirt. He realized he was still wearing one of Thad''s flight suits. "All members of Thad''s crew will repent for their crimes. Your captain has given me all the lies I can stomach, but I will give you a fair deal all the same. You will work in my warrens, and you will pay your debts to me - with crystal, or through death." CH 78: First Impressions The guard raised a hand in threat as Reid continued. ¡°I promise, we are innocent. Give us a trial, and I''ll prove it.¡± The backhand was swift but weak. Reid jangled his shackles as he tried to gesture towards Lycra. ¡°We were both prisoners on that ship! We had nothing to do with what happened!¡± The guard rose and grabbed a metal fishbowl hanging from the cramped, bumpy transport¡¯s ceiling. Sound stilled as it was secured around Reid¡¯s head. Reid wanted to swear and scream. He¡¯d been pleading with the guard during the entire trip. Repeated shocks had kept him from communicating with the armadillo, then the collars had been swapped with new ones that were more like thin, unbreakable necklaces when they were moved into the transport. They had been descending for quite a long time, and Reid tried not to think about how far from the surface they must¡¯ve been. His attempts to convince the guards to let them go had ranged from the truth, to cajoling, and attempted bribes. He even tried begging to be taken back to the psychotic armadillo so he could plead his case directly. His last attempts had shifted back to telling the truth just before the fishbowl was shoved over him. Throughout the entire flight, the only responses had been grunts and violence. And, now - there was isolation. Many more minutes passed before their downward momentum abruptly stopped. The shift made Reid¡¯s new headgear slam into the wall, and he winced at the reverberating ring. When Reid''s fishbowl was finally removed, Thad and Lycra were both awake and silently staring at a clean-looking guard. Each wore a simple cloth jumpsuit that matched Reid''s own - shoved onto them as they were put into the transport. The guard snorted and spoke in a drab, practiced speech. ¡°You will now enter the warrens. Cameras and sensors near the processor will record your contributions towards paying off your debts. The cost of any food or water you consume are added to your debts. If you are above G grade, your restrictor collar on your person will suppress you to G grade. If you are eaten or otherwise die, the balance of your debt will be automatically forgiven and will not pass on to your relatives. If you pay off the sum of your debts, a member of the staff will retrieve you within one week, and you will receive a debriefing session. If you damage company equipment, you will be subject to fines and corporal punishment. Guards will come down if and when they need to. When they do, you obey their orders. There are no other rules." Before Reid could ask any clarifying questions, the guard slammed a button on the wall. The shackles attached to Reid all came loose and retracted into the seats as the floor of the transport split and swung open underneath them. Reid barely had time to panic before he was in free-fall. He had enough time to see Lycra falling with him before they both impacted an intricate, but heavily worn net. The thing was angled, and Reid rolled down it sideways - with most of his momentum from the fall - until the net met the ground. He slammed into it with his hip, and looked around. A dark hole stretched so far above him, Reid couldn''t make out the light at the top. The transport that had dropped them was nearly out of sight already, and rose quickly into the distance. The net had been at the bottom of the hole, and there were bits of trash around it - likely where things had simply fallen down the massive shaft. The hole opened up into a spacious cavern. While the net was as large as a supermarket, it took up only a tenth of the area. Off to one side, ten lines of prisoners in jumpsuits pushed carts or held buckets full of crystals that ranged from the size of a fingernail to as large as Reid''s arm. They threw the crystals into machines that lit up and made noise, then pulled the contents up into the rock above. That must be the processor. A canteen area sat next to the processor, where more lines of prisoners stood in front of P.O. box looking slots on the wall. Water and food appeared there with loud bangs, and the prisoners quickly grabbed the contents and retreated to free seats. Some ate on the ground, or slept nearby. They leaned against rocks or bunched up in piles on the wall. Some slept in piles of trash, or semi-structurally-sound looking shanties made of discarded material. Five circular structures were on the other side of the canteen, and there was a constant mill of coming and going prisoners from them. From what Reid could tell, they were probably bathrooms - and showers. A long wall stretched off to mostly-dark tunnels, and was inset with a myriad of shelves and racks that held tools, carts, buckets, and a series of objects Reid didn''t recognize. There was a mix of prisoners putting things back, or grabbing carts and setting off into the darkness. A series of four mouse-like skulls, each as large as Reid''s torso, hung above the tools. Reid wondered if those were the things the guard had warned might eat them. Fate storm, my ass. Reid had never wanted to experience being in a cage again. He''d never wanted to go to prison again, either - but because of one fucking alien that liked kidnapping, Reid was repeating a lot of shitty experiences. An impact from behind drove Reid to the ground, and he covered his head as fists began to pummel him. He hadn¡¯t expected the violence to start this early. Reid focused intently - even through the oddity of his changed energy - and flared rage power into his arm. It slammed back into his attacker, and came back bloody. Thad jumped back, ear bleeding, and picked two rocks off the ground. His eyes were feral. "It''s all your fault! You and that street rat did this! I''m going to kill you and that fractin kid!" Thad hurled one of the rocks, but it missed Reid wide. He swung the other at Reid¡¯s head when they got close. The movement was slow ¨C slower than Thad had been during their fight on Earth, and slower than the salamanders by far. Reid easily moved himself out of the path of the rock, and sent two jabs into Thad''s side.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Rage churned and built in him. ¡°You don¡¯t get to be angry, you fucking alien!¡± Reid was too in the moment to hear the gasps around him, and savaged Thad with strikes to his torso and arms as he continued to shout. ¡°You came to my planet! Knocked me out and kidnapped me! Put me in a goddamn cage!¡± Two strikes slammed hard into Thad''s jaw, and the alien moaned incomprehensibly as it cracked in three places. He wouldn''t be spewing any more shit for a while. Reid let himself back off, and looked over the alien. Thad¡¯s prison jumpsuit was flecked in a light pink blood. He¡¯d stopped trying to fight Reid, and just stared back at him with heaving breaths. Reid wanted to end the alien. He imagined himself smashing in Thad''s skull, pulling his heart out through his ribcage, or pushing his thumbs through the alien''s eyes. Reid walked forward, still unsure of how he would deal the killing blow. Footfalls echoed behind him, and Reid spun, ready for another opponent. A distinctly blue man, around Reid¡¯s height but twice as wide, held up both hands and approached. A mixed group behind him consisted of at least eight different species. ¡°Hey there friend. The drop can be disorientin'', and most have some scores to settle - but we like to limit the violence here, were''n we can. You done won this fight, what say you call it off for now?¡± Reid glanced between the newcomers and Thad. ¡°He¡¯s shit, and he should die.¡± The man nodded and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re right. But the more people we have, the safer we are. So I¡¯ma askin'' you nicely not to kill him. At least for now. Just talk to me a bit.¡± Thad had gone from standing to sitting, and Reid reluctantly lowered his fists. ¡°Nice, alright. You''n call me Jim ¨C my friends and I here done do some rotatin'' orientations. You probably heard the guard¡¯s tell it, but there are more rules here if you want to have a nice stay in the warrens.¡± The man¡¯s face turned serious. ¡°First, none of that xenophobe nonsense. We¡¯re all people here, so knock it off, an'' no wiggle room.¡± Reid blinked as his brain caught up with Jim''s words. ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ Look, I¡­ I don¡¯t mind aliens, I just hate him.¡± He pointed back at Thad. Jim shook his head. ¡°Y''see, now I¡¯ma startin'' to get upset, an'' my friends here are offended. We''s all dealin'' with enough - ain''t right to have to listen to that crap too - now stuff it.¡± ¡°But I don-¡° ¡°Wait!¡± Lycra sped into the conversation, panting, with rope burns all over his exposed skin. He must¡¯ve been stuck in the nets. ¡°This is my friend! My friend!" He pointed between Reid and himself, and glanced at Thad lying on the ground holding his broken jaw. His eyes seemed to light up with an idea. "His world, Vuxarina, was just awakened - Thad was the first non-human he''s met. He''s never even touched a beacon - he just doesn''t know better." Reid looked at Lycra. ¡°That¡¯s a... slur? The¡­ the a-word?¡± Jim let out a guffawing laugh. ¡°Aw hell, why''n''t y''say that? Here I''m givin'' ya a lecture and you jus don'' know no better.¡± The man wiped tears from his eyes as he continued. ¡°Ah, well. I''n heard the new drawin'' was done. Sorry t''say, but we did get one more from yer planet down here. Was a spot brighter pink than you, so I ''ssume he weren''t no family or friend o'' yours, but he got ate up two days ago. But, I take back the harsh words. Don''t be a xenophobe, that''s rule number one. Rule 2 is don''t steal. It happens sometimes - food, tools, crystal - but if you get caught, thieves lose fingers. You get caught twice, lose a hand. Rule 3, share information. You see a mole, you''n tell where it was. Find a vein, you share it. Pick up some message or signal somehow, the group hears it. Not everyone follows them all good, but I hope you do. We all live jus'' a bit longer if we know what''s goin'' on. Partway through the conversation, Jim had motioned for Reid and Lycra to follow him, and he''d led the group towards the canteen area while part of the original set of prisoners stayed behind with Thad. They treated him more like their prisoner than a fellow prisoner. Reid found himself impressed by Jim''s smooth work to separate him from the alie- ah, the... man. Jim was more than a friendly outer layer. Reid made a mental note to watch himself around the man. Manipulators had caught Reid off guard before. ¡°Take you some time to sit here, an'' introduce y''self anybody what wants come say hi. Ask questions, getcha settled. Don''t jus go runnin'' off t''mine crystal. An don''t never go out hungry. Hunger gets ya mistakes, an mistakes means dead. So my advice is get yourself fed all good." He sat Reid and Lycra down at an open table. "I''ll be ''round another hour - then a new group''ll come in. You need help, find me or anyone wearin'' one a these." Jim pointed to a colorful armband tied around his bicep. He extended a hand towards Lycra, and he took it. "Good luck, and nice meetin'' ya..." "Lycra." His friend''s yellow eyes were warm and happy. The man extended his hand to Reid. "Sorry about earlier with the word-thing. And I''m R-..." Lycra and Nyx had both cautioned him against using his own name, and he''d never come up with an alias. His eyes widened as he tried to take inspiration from his surroundings, and the rest of his pronunciation came out slow and drawn... "-ocky. Rocky. But... everyone calls me Roc. R-o-c." Reid hoped the follow up with a nickname to his alias would take attention away from the drawn out first attempt. Jim guffawed again, and gestured towards the surrounding cavern walls. "Rocky! Roc! You''n either the unluckiest man t'' ever come down that hole, or the funniest." The big man slapped Reid on the back, and walked away still laughing to himself. When Jim left, the rest of his group queued up to chat with Reid and Lycra. Most of the non-humans gave him a long stare, and some tried to squeeze a bit hard during their handshakes. He felt more than one strain to crush his hand, and had to keep himself from wincing. He''d already made enough of a splash, and didn''t need any more notoriety. The last one in line was a shining green reptilian woman that Reid had to crane his neck to look in the face. She was massive - nine feet tall with diamond eyes. When they shook, she nearly broke his hand - then smiled when he grinned through the pain. "Not just a strong fighter - you''ve got some spine! Good! You might just be alright, xenophobe." Reid went stiff. ¡°I had no idea. Look-¡° ¡°I¡¯m fucking with you, kid.¡± Reid fumbled for a bit as the woman stared at him. ¡°Cut the guppie act and grow yourself a sense of humor. I¡¯m Winnona, but everyone that isn¡¯t a shitheel calls me Win.¡± Reid nodded slowly. ¡°I¡¯m... Roc, good to meet you Win. I¡¯m still learning about¡­ well, everything I guess. Could use some pointers on cosmic humor, if you¡¯re willing to help me out.¡± He gave an endearing smile. It was always good to try and make a few friends in a place like this. Win leered at him. ¡°Oh, you want to learn everything?¡± Reid fumbled. Had he gone too far? He wanted friends. Just friends. ¡°Ah¡­ no? Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean¡­ I just want to know what I can joke about without getting in trouble.¡± Win let out a hissing laugh. ¡°You really are hopeless. Again, fucking with you. You better water that funny tree before I see you again or you¡¯re never gonna learn.¡± She spun and walked slowly away towards her group, grabbing a pickaxe from the long wall of tools on her way. Lycra leaned over to him. "I think she likes you." CH 79: A Week in the Mines Lycra and Reid spent another full hour meeting more of the prisoner/miners. Some preferred one term over the other, but most used them interchangeably. They learned the five circular buildings were comprised of three separate only-restroom buildings, one functioning shower, and a final converted shower building that housed the sick and elderly. The breakdown of facilities made a lot of sense after it was explained to him. People needed to relieve themselves far more often than they needed to get clean, and the variety of biology in the warrens must have meant there needed to be specialized stalls for certain species. The converted area with the elderly was ¡®staffed¡¯ by volunteers, and some of the miners donated food and water to help keep things there comfortable. The organization of it all felt more like a small, struggling community than a prison. Reid''s sense of respect for the average person here was even higher after he and Lycra had started to crunch some numbers. There were a few screens with cameras where one could check their ¡°debt balance¡± near the food dispensers. Most started with a debt between 200,000 and 500,000 credits. Rations varied, but would end up around 1,500 credits per day for both Reid and Lycra. A normal haul for crystal from the miners would be worth between 500 and 1,000 credits. So, if someone was a prolific miner, worked every day, and ate the bare minimum, they were still looking at an enormous amount of time before their debts would be paid - if it ever happened at all. It made Reid understand better the need for an old folks'' building. Reid and Lycra were each starting their time in the warrens with 3,000,000 credits in debt. When he saw the totals, Reid had pressured a number of people about escape, visitation, or appealing his sentence. He was mostly laughed away, but some of the older miners told stories. A prisoner had tried to ride up the processor with their crystals - and their mangled body was dropped down the shaft, with a note nailed into it daring the next person to make it farther. Climbing the walls was a guaranteed way to get shot in the head - either by turrets that lined the walls partway up, or by guards that manned the landing platforms of legitimate mining operations high overhead. Those with natural wings - of which Reid only saw a few - would have their wings completely cut off if they tried to fly out. That, apparently, was considered a war crime in civilized society. When Reid asked about getting them regrown, the old prisoner talking to him had laughed so hard he started coughing. The Pit, or the Warrens, or the dark, depending on who was talking - didn''t have healers. Anyone with that skill was removed to a cushier life of servitude - with sunlight. Digging up was a no-go because there were sensors above them intended to watch for beasts that could rise up to the ''real'' mines. Attempting to send messages out hadn''t worked that anyone knew of - and each time someone was caught, there were blanket punishments doled out where all rations and water were halted for the next day. Miners seemed to keep each other in check around that one - and despite how civil everyone seemed on the surface, the last time someone got caught making a pen pal, an angry mob had stuffed their body in the processor chutes, with an apology taped to them. The rations and water hadn''t been halted that time. All the information boiled down to ''don''t try to escape'', and ''don''t talk to anyone on the outside''. So at a glance, the only hope anyone had of getting out came from mining more credits worth of crystals than they consumed - and eventually paying off their debt. But an offhand comment caught Reid''s attention. There was a second way to get credits in the warrens - and that was from mole kills. Anyone that proved a kill by throwing a head into the processor received a reward from their overlords. The things were a constant threat to miners, and getting rid of them allowed production to remain at high levels. It was even better if someone could get a corpse back to the main cavern. Their materials were rare, and made for blankets, supports for buildings from their bones, and the meat was mostly edible if you had a good butcher. Killing the moles, as Reid was told, was always a difficult task. They were large, vicious, territorial, and disruptive. Their burrowing and natural processes had made the warrens and helped expose crystal veins. Their tunnels extended farther underground than any prisoner had ever cared to go. Mining equipment didn''t make great weaponry, either - so all the mole kills and the mining itself was done as close to the cavern as possible. It was also done in shifts and groups, where sticking together brought safety in numbers. Even in groups, prisoners mostly didn''t venture out (or down) because it was easy to get lost in the maze of complicated tunnels. They also didn''t delve too deep because the moles became stronger the deeper one went. Anyone going too far down, then, was all but guaranteed to be lost, eaten, or both. One... not-quite-sane looking miner had also mentioned there were other beasts - that weren''t moles - if you delved deep enough. No one else had ever seen what he described, so Reid tentatively wrote it off. Reid''s plan had already started to form - one where he''d get out as early as possible while strengthening himself. Others here were restricted by collars, forced into the ''normal'' limitations of G grade. Forced to be weak enough that they couldn''t properly fight back against the stronger beasts, in the deepest depths. Reid wasn''t so easily controlled. And he had power waiting.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it # Reid''s pickaxe slammed into the wall and loosened a chunk of crystal the size of his head. Lycra grabbed it off the ground and put it in the waiting cart. He''d wanted to use heavy equipment or power tools, but those attracted moles - and you had to pay to rent them. He''d realized afterwards that all of those power tools were either shiny and new-looking, or covered in dried blood. Reid and Lycra had set out with a mixed group they agreed to follow into the tunnels after speaking with them in the canteen - just to get a feel for how the mining was supposed to go. They included four humans, two cat-like bipeds that reminded Reid of Thad, and one armadillo-like biped that looked pretty similar to the psycho he¡¯d seen on the surface. Reid smartly decided to not ask if they knew each other. Lycra had come up with most of their plan so far. They''d blend in, work a little, and gather the things they would need for longer sojourns into the tunnels. That way, no one would think it odd when they disappeared for a while, then came back with a cart full of crystal. The real goal was to buy Reid enough time to raise his power and constitution to the limit. Without healers present, he''d have a long recovery period - and there was no telling what would happen if others found out about what Reid could do. They''d avoid unwanted attention by stocking up and venturing out as a team of two. Part of selling that lie was showing how well they worked together off the bat, which was why Reid was slamming his pickaxe into the wall. Older miners in their group gave Reid tips and pointers on how to free crystal from the rock - where to swing so it wouldn''t get damaged, and tips on identifying how deep you should make your hit. Reid followed the advice, and actually felt himself improving even in the first day. It made him think about James and coffee cups. # The second day, Reid and Lycra were the most productive members of the group. Reid''s form with the pickaxe massively improved, and he was popping the mana crystals free from rock at a dizzying speed - enough that he had to slow down so Lycra could catch up on the collection side. They let their reputation grow for over a week, mining and comingling and portraying the best normal miners they could. The canteen''s food was far worse than the bar he''d shared with Lycra on Thad''s ship. The showers were unisex, and took some getting used to. Not necessarily because it was both men and women, but because of just how many species were in there that Reid was seeing for the first time. He caught himself staring more than once at odd biology. Win... did not help things. She was determined to ''get the awkward out of him'', and insisted on having chats about cosmic life and culture together in the showers until he ''got over it''. He had to admit - he was getting more comfortable with everyone, partly because he had to be to hold their conversations. The bathrooms and showers were surprisingly clean. Another thing - like the welcoming committee and the elderly caretakers - that was handled by the group of trusted representatives that Jim and Win both participated in. # At the end of their planned ''integration'' period, Reid and Lycra''s credit balances had barely moved. Debt Remaining: 2,999,100 Credits Part of the issue, of course, was that they''d been stocking up extra rations and over-feeding Reid so they''d have more than enough to fuel him through the power-ups he needed to do. Still, it was a hard number to look at for doing such hard work. If they could only rely on crystal gains to get free, it would take years and years. Reid wasn''t going to wait around that long. He and Lycra stuffed their spare rations into the pockets and open spaces of their jumpsuits, took a cart and tools, and wandered into the darkness. # It wasn''t actually completely dark - the tunnels all had some sort of lighting installed - but where they were was poorly maintained. There wasn''t any reason to go down a dead-end tunnel that didn''t have any workable veins. Reid pulled the small, white cube from his pocket, and peered inside. It was his trick - and Lycra''s idea - for keeping track of themselves in the tunnels. Reid had spent the last week hollowing out sections inside the bone square to represent the main cavern, and every tunnel they''d explored so far. He even had a tiny protrusion that represented the two of them, so he knew where they were inside of the maze of tunnels. It was all larger and more complex than he''d initially envisioned, but the bone-cube-map kept them both solidly on track. "We''re here." Reid started pulling nutri-bar style rations out of his pockets, and dumped them into the mine cart. Lycra did the same, and placed water bottles down on the ground. Lycra frowned. "We should have found a blanket for you. We should''ve found many more supplies." Reid gave his friend a smile. They hadn''t talked much about what Lycra actually wanted - partly because he always deflected those topics to plans that would put Reid in a better position to reunite with his family. He owed Lycra some goodwill - and would at some point need to ask him point blank how he wanted to end up when all of this was done. For now, he could at least promise his friend a ''shopping spree''. "Tell you what - we get through this, and I''ll make sure we make enough credits to get all the supplies you want for our next outing." Lycra''s eyes flashed with optimism, then concern. "No, no. Not buy. Scavenge. If we spend a few days at the net, we can find what we need." Reid stopped what he was doing - removing rocks from a swath of dirt to make a ''bed'' for himself - and leveled a serious look at Lycra. "I''m serious. Scavenging isn''t what I meant. When we get done here, I want us to buy what we need - what you want. You deserve it." Lycra''s eyes scanned back-and-forth over Reid the way they did every time he was trying to read someone to see if they were lying. Reid cocked an eyebrow at him. "Don''t trust me?" He looked at the ground, then continued removing items from his pockets. It was obvious he''d over-spent on rations so they''d have extra. He worked silently until his pockets were truly empty, then brought his gaze up to meet Reid''s. There was a glint in the corner of his eye. "We should get a backpack. We need the storage space." "Okay. That sounds good, Lycra." He opened a water and drank. It was almost time to start his work. "Yes yes yes." Lycra gestured to the pile of rations in the mine cart. "This is only enough for four weeks. You will eat it in two meals." Reid sputtered on his water as Lycra flashed his big, vampiric smile For a few wonderful seconds, laughter filled a dead end tunnel deep underground. CH 80: Backpack Reid screamed in agony. Everything burned, and ached. Stabbing, throbbing pain lanced its way over every area Reid empowered, and his brain had long-passed the stepped-on-a-lego pain and gone into full on brain-melting and imploding sensations. He learned more about his ''updated'' body and changes as he worked his way through the process of rebuilding himself. The threads within him had nearly imperceptibly moved - he either didn''t need to change anything there, or it ended up being a simple task to ''re-define'' where he needed to pull and wind himself to get the results he was expecting. With a decent amount of rest and just a bit of practice, he''d be back to battlefield power-ups like he''d done against the salamander. Rebuilding himself was incredible as much as it was painful. The same ''density'' of power that made it difficult to do minute healing work actually sped up the empowerment process. Sped up being relative - as Reid had been at it for almost a day by the time he hit his new ceiling in both main stat categories. Raising stats that much just wasn''t a quick deal.
Power: 35 -> 62.5 Constitution: 35 -> 62.5
Part of Reid had hoped to see a change in his ''upper limit'', but he hadn''t gotten that lucky. The hill still came, and stopped him when he reached 50% of his control stat. Nearly doubling his two major stats had to be enough. Compared to them, Dexterity, Perception, and Intelligence seemed comically low. Lycra had tended to Reid through his full day of screaming, painful self-improvement, and then another four days where Reid just slept. When Reid finally woke up, they''d already chewed through most of their rations and water. Reid was still recovering and groggy when he woke, and they decided to take things easy. There was a version of this whole thing where they skipped straight to mole hunting, but that wasn''t happening with Reid''s current state. Instead, they did enough mining in a tunnel on the way back to fill the mine cart, and returned to the processor area, tired and ragged. A few miners they knew gave them commiserating and understanding looks - trying to venture out on your own was something many of them did as they got used to the tunnels. But their week spent integrating themselves with the rest of the miners had done well, and no one questioned them on what they''d been doing or where they went. Half their crystal haul was turned in for their debts, and the other half they kept for backpack shopping. That was when Lycra insisted on doing the shopping himself while Reid relaxed and rested some more. It brought back a vivid memory. # At the call center, Reid had used the same backpack for his things every day, for years. One of the zipper pulls was replaced with a folded and taped paperclip. The top handle was cut off because it had been torn apart by a dog. One of the straps didn''t adjust properly, so Reid had tied it permanently to itself. One of the young kids he''d hired unexpectedly showed up with a brand new backpack on Reid''s birthday. He knew the kid was from an upper-middle class family. He had this job not because he needed the money to put himself through college, but because his parents had told him he needed experience being at the bottom of the ladder. And the parents had chipped in to gift Reid the new bag - apparently their son had said good things about Reid, so they liked him. But - Reid''s first instinct was to leave the brand new bag at home the next day and instead bring his old one into the office. It was still usable - so he should still use it. The math added up properly in his head, and Reid realized he applied it to much of his life. Things only got replaced or thrown away once they were absolutely spent. It was only the image of the kid, seeing him choosing to use his old bag over the gift, that pushed him over the edge to use the new one. But he still kept his old, broken backpack in his closet. Because it hadn''t been fully used up yet. # He knew hoping Lycra didn''t suffer from the same mentality was a wasteful exercise. Reid had grown up with far more than his friend - and there was a good chance Lycra would''ve chosen for himself the cheapest, simplest, most ''not used up yet'' bag he could find. So when Lycra insisted on going shopping for himself, Reid had decided to try something - and told him to get bags for each of them. No matter what Reid used for himself, he''d always worked to ensure Sara and Susan had the newest, best, most intact and useful versions of things she could. He would replace their bags ten times over before he even considered doing the same for himself. And he figured Lycra might think the same way. Of course the bags needed to fit both of them - what if they needed to switch in an emergency! And of course they needed two - because what if they got separated. Lycra had seemed skeptical at first, but agreed. Reid hoped it would work. The best outcome was that they''d end up with one good bag, and one junk bag. He''d make Lycra take the good one, and Reid would either use or scrap the worse bag for himself. Lycra would complain, but he deserved to have something nice. Or as nice as they could get in this land of discarded trash and dropped valuables. #This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Lycra came back two hours later, head hung so low it was nearly dragging on the ground. When he finally lifted his head, it revealed a welt forming under one eye, and the other filled with burst red veins where he''d very obviously been hit. He was already apologizing to Reid as he approached, and Reid felt rage boiling deep in his stomach - that someone had dared to do this to his friend. It took a good ten minutes for both of them to calm down enough to hold a rational conversation. Lycra had gone to one of the larger ''stores'' in the shanty area, and fell in love with one of the bags they had there. It was the most pristine, rugged backpack in the entire ''marketplace''. The proprietor offered Lycra the chance to pay to be part of an ''auction'' where he could then bid on the pack. Then more people - probably friends of the shopkeeper - had joined in and driven the price for the item higher than Lycra could afford with what he had left. They claimed he placed a final bid to win the auction, over what he had on hand. And oh no - when they ''realized'' he didn''t have the funds, they were so willing to work with him, take what was left in the cart as an advance, and told Lycra to come back with the rest, plus interest. He''d refused, and didn''t let go of the crystal cart. That was when things got physical, and Lycra was hit, multiple times. It turned out, he also had a broken toe and a bruise on his abdomen from kicks and stomps. Reid took his friend down to the care building - where the ''first aid'' station was. The staff were friends of Win and she volunteered there often, so Reid felt comfortable leaving Lycra to have his wounds tended and treated. Not that he''d really left by his own choice. The medics on hand ushered him out of the building and told him to come back later. There wasn''t a real visitors section, and without magical healing - medicine took time. Reid partly blamed himself for the whole ordeal. Sending someone who might not have much experience with spending money out to buy something wasn''t a good idea. Doing it in this setting, despite the friendly veneer, was downright dumb. He was almost as angry at himself as he was at the proprietor. Reid picked a rock off the ground, and squeezed until it started to fracture in his hand. He let the pieces crumble away and fall to the floor of the cavern. He didn''t want to make waves. Laying low and blending in was part of the plan. But the assholes had hurt Lycra. There were three rules in this place. Reid was about to add a fourth. # # The stall was made of mostly-grey metal and canvas parts, which gave it a uniform drab look that set it apart from the other makeshift storefronts. It was manned by a melting-beaver looking thing named Percival, and three bearlike beings that were definitely muscle milled about nearby. Reid ignored the bears and slapped both hands down on the counter top so hard, it half collapsed. The beaver thing made gestures with its head, and Reid found paws on his shoulders. They tried - and failed - to move him as he spoke. "You ran a game on my friend. Then you hurt him." The words were low and clear. "I''m here to explain something to you. It''s a new rule, and it''s called ''Don''t fuck with Lycra.'' Simple stuff -." A bear tried to drive claws down into Reid''s back. That probably stopped most trouble. Having natural claws in a space where everyone''s power and toughness were restricted put you above the norm. The sharp claws slightly punctured Reid''s skin, and went no further. He turned on the bear that had stabbed him, and gripped its claws between his hands. They snapped like toothpicks. Then Reid snapped the bear''s hand for good measure, and it roared in pain. He grabbed it by the scruff of the neck. Another tried to get him in the face with a clawed strike, but Reid was fast enough to swing his ''hostage'' bear into the path of the blow. Instead of just stopping the claws from hitting Reid - it had the bonus of the first bear slamming hard enough into the second that it was launched across the walkway and into a stall on the other side. The shopkeeper was shouting, and more muscle started to appear. Some wore matching colors or outfits, and Reid realized the entire shady section of the shops was coming to face him. That was fine. He needed to get some anger out. # Reid sat atop the shell of a bipedal crab. He held its dominant claw to the ground with his foot, and addressed the beaver-like shopkeeper, cowering behind the remains of his front counter. "If I snap this claw in half, will it grow back naturally?" The beaver shook his face side to side - not his whole head, but just the face. It was gross. Behind Reid, the other minions dumb enough to jump into the fight groaned and cried. Every few minutes, one was carried away in a mine cart, towards the caretaker building to see the medics. They were not exactly pleased with him at the moment. Broken arms, fingers, and legs were difficult, slow-healing injuries. Reid had made dozens. He gave the crab''s shell a pat, then strode forward to the remains of the melted beaver''s shop. "Your employees are rude. So, Lycra. On the shorter side. Big yellow eyes. Happy pointy smile. Came here for a backpack. Do you remember him?" The shopkeeper nodded. "Alright. And the new rule is...?" Reid tilted his head expectantly. The beaver looked ready to run, but thought better, and spoke in a halting voice. "Don''t mess with Lycra." Reid slapped a palm down on what was left of the counter, and it folded in on itself. A piece of it bounced off the shopkeeper and landed on the floor. "Close enough! Now - all of this" Reid swept an arm behind him at the groaning goons. "Was a warning. I thought about breaking you, too - but I think you get the point. Spread the word to your friends on the new rule. Anyone fucks with Lycra, I''ll drag them down into the dark tunnels and break their goddamn legs." Reid didn''t quite know when he''d started to lean over the remains of the counter, but his face was inches from the shopkeeper. "Are. We. Clear?" The beaver nodded once, slowly. "Great. Now give me the fucking backpack." # # Reid sat at the table he''d used on the first day - a table he apparently now ''owned'' - and tried to give friendly waves to the miners he knew. More than a few that were previously friendly with him hurried away when he got their attention. He was just about to get up for some water when a familiar wide form approached. Jim looked angry. "We got rules! Ya can''t jus go an hurt people like that now! Darn medics already overworked, an now they got too many to tend!" Reid bristled. "Those rules also say don''t steal - but I didn''t see you shutting down that stall. Are you in on their racket? What, they pay you as a group?" Reid rose out of his seat as he continued, and watched the man''s face went from blue to purple. "I did what I needed to. I stopped thieves, and a ring of shady muscle from taking advantage of people. I did your job - and I did it better. So don''t you dare try and tell me I can''t protect my own." "Roc, catch!" Win''s voice boomed out and grabbed the attention of everyone in the canteen area - most of whom had been closely watching Reid and Jim''s developing argument. A pickaxe sailed at Reid in a lazy arc - handle first - and he snatched it out of the air. He was too busy being confused to interrupt Win as she continued shouting. "Roc and I are going to go blow off some steam! When we get back, it means everything here is settled!" Curt and decisive nods spread around the witnesses in a wave. There was some tradition at play that Reid wasn''t getting. Jim excitedly gathered himself and ran over to Win. "Ima come witcha - he and I- !" Win''s voice was lower, but just as commanding. "No. Just us two." She turned and walked towards a barely-lit tunnel off to the side, and waved behind her. "Come on, pinky! Let''s go." CH 81: Steam (---) Jim (---) Jim paced back and forth in front of the canteen, fuming. He wanted to scream and shout - but he couldn''t even do that. Not properly. Three years. Three whole fucking years he''d endured so far, playing up the hick slang and rural background to make himself more amenable to the committee - and specifically Win. Other prisoners might''ve showed their age more readily, but Jim had been through enough institutions to pick out the people that were too comfortable and too knowledgeable. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Win was probably the person that had been in the Warrens the longest, which meant she had the most sway and the best ideas on what secrets Jim might be able to use to get out. This prison was a tough nut to crack. He''d escaped from boxes in hard vacuum, inhospitable bio-zones, and a fully automated one in a machine-run world - and each time, he''d gotten out in under five years. All the new bullshit with Roc was threatening to break his streak. It had started flawlessly - he''d gotten a quick spot on the committee, rose through as a trusted negotiator and welcome-man. Then he put eggs in the black market basket - so he''d be able to get all the tools he needed when the time came for action. In two weeks, that new, pale-pink, narrow son of a whore had shown up out of nowhere and derailed things. Win - who he was so close to cozying up to - took the pinky under her wing instead. Even worse, he''d just crippled the market muscle - which meant Jim wouldn''t be able to leverage his way to what he''d eventually need. Now, they were off alone, the two of them, taking out their frustration on the rocks. Talking. Taking up what should''ve been Jim''s time to get closer to his ticket to freedom. Either this Roc was onto Jim''s grift, or he was damn lucky. In either case, Jim needed to find a way to get the situation back to his benefit. Cause a divide between Win and the newbie... Or - cause problems between Roc and his little friend.
||+|| Win ||+|| Throwing people off was a great way to learn who they actually were, under the usual bluster and posturing and plotting and the masks. She had experienced enough of all of that firsthand to fill four lifetimes, but the skills it taught her and her ability to set people off in the right way were invaluable. Was it okay to hate your life, but appreciate what you got out of it? The man who''d chosen the brilliant fake name of "Rocky" didn''t seem like he was going to rate highly in her measure, at first. Her initial interest was just to have a fun time with him - but he''d suprised her in many small bits and pieces, and continued to spurn any advances she made. He was - in his own ways - funny, upstanding, inquisitive, and ill-informed. The man knew next to nothing about the universe. And that included the planet he was supposedly from. Win had learned enough to know "pinky" was a derogatory term for the Vuxarins. But when Roc had heard it, he hadn''t even flinched. So she tried using it on him - in various conversations they''d had. He hadn''t shown a single response, in any of her attempts to get him to react. Then, he''d disappeared for multiple days, with nary an explanation, after ''secretly'' purchasing enough rations to feed a mining group for a week. She wished she''d followed them out into the tunnels then, to figure out what was going on with Roc. She''d visited the clinic on her own way back in, like she usually did after a multi-day outing. To her surprise, it was a bustle of activity with all manner of harsh wounds on display. Win knew violence and biology well - so she''d been able to pick up on things the other medics hadn''t figured out. Yes, there were signs and flashes of savage brutality in the wounds and the breaks - but only flashes. How deep and true the damage was to muscle - how the bones themselves had snapped and fractured and in some cases been pulverized - it showed the man was stronger and tougher than should be possible down in the Warrens. It was more strength - much more - than he''d had when she tested him with an overzealous handshake. It also showed he was holding himself back. With the level of damage on display, Win knew he could''ve killed the thugs as easily as he''d broken them. Maybe even more so. The injuries were haphazard - like the man had power, but little skill. She wanted to know many things. His true name. Where he was really from. How he was so strong, and what he''d been doing when he disappeared for almost a week. But she would take a soft approach. Everyone had secrets here - and she honestly, actually liked Roc. More than that, he was the most interesting person to come through the shaft in a long, long time. She''d ask him everything. As for answers? She''d settle for the basics. # The hot shaft was a place for drawing out tensions and letting anger go. Or getting anger out. Rocks, warmed over time by geothermal vents, were almost uncomfortably hot, and the geology of this part of Denduram meant the rocks were also harder the hotter they became. The material also had the interesting property of getting darker as it became more durable - which gave good indications of what would and wouldn''t give under enough force. So the tunnel acted as both a makeshift steam room and stress reliever. Hit rock as hard as you can, and then let your residual anger melt away.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. She''d decided not to give Reid the full explanation. "Alright, pinky. You''re here to blow off steam. Tell me you''re not mad, I don''t give a shit. Just use that axe, and smash it into the wall until I tell you to stop." "But I''m not-" "Mad. Right. Fine. Sure. Somebody hurt my people, I''d be ready to tear off heads, but you''re golden. So, calm boy, just break off a piece of that rock on the wall there, the one that looks black, and I''ll call everything good." Roc looked ready to protest, but stomped his way over to the wall anyway. This would be good. Giving him something he couldn''t break - when he expected to - would throw him off enough that Win could jump back in with questions, and hopefully have a productive talk. She twirled the vial in her pocket. No matter which way things went, she would still give it to him. The pickaxe came down - and groaned in complaint as it cracked into the top of the rock. Win nearly dropped her jaw. He squared his shoulders, rolled his neck, and let out a roaring shout as he smashed another blow into the rock. A piece the size of Win''s tail fell away from the main body. She knew he had to be strong, but all-god''s scales, he was strong. Another handful of roaring swings saw the entire rock fall away from the wall and onto the tunnel floor in pieces. Win walked over to it, and tried to scrape the side with a finger. Her nail chipped as it moved across the nearly black surface. "So, are we done?" Win''s plan hadn''t quite gone right so far, but she had gotten him to let out some of his frustrations... so it was worth a shot. "We will be - when you tell me where you''re really from, pinky."
Fozzune Hoimchal watched the message through to the end again, and scratched at the piercings on his left eyebrow. "Repeat." He compared the ship in the recording to the half-scrapped mess sitting in front of him. If it weren¡¯t for the graffiti, he may never have found it. The thing was atrociously damaged, cut open, and half of it had already been parted out and sold elsewhere. It was partially luck that the main shell was still around by the time Fozz had reached the recycling plant. This case had already required thorough work, and the challenge it posed made Fozz¡¯s ears burn with excitement. He returned his attention to the clerk shivering in front of him. ¡°You vouch that this document is accurate ¨C that is, that this scrap was transported here on the BTC Greenrock, out of Denduram?¡± The clerk nodded. Fozz raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yes.¡± The clerk practically shouted the verbal response he needed. ¡°Thank you.¡± Fozz answered. Lying to a CCE was an immediate jail sentence, so most people didn¡¯t. Those who tried always forced themselves to seem unnaturally calm. It made it easy to pick out the truth. "The remains of the Wheathop are now part of an ongoing investigation, and will be transported to a CCE approved holding facility. Once the case is complete, all property may be used as renumeration to damaged parties. If those parties refuse the property, you have the right to reclaim the ship as your own. Do you wish to exercise that right?" The clerk shook their head. Fozz tilted his head, and got a short "No". He didn''t expect the clerk was some sort of criminal mastermind, and didn''t want to impose more than he had to. "Your participation in this investigation is concluded. The Cross Cosmic Enforcement Agency appreciates your cooperation." Fozz¡¯s helmet snapped into position as his suit¡¯s thrusters shot him through the atmosphere back to his patrol ship. Normally, a case about heritage site boundary violations and simple vandalism would have been lower on his priority list. But Walt was someone he considered a close friend ¨C and a potential future CCE Officer. Probable future officer, really. He couldn''t imagine something throwing the man off the officer track. He¡¯d met Walt during a CCE-sponsored training module for newly awakened worlds. Most at those modules were greedy, small people looking to find better ways to flex power over others. Fozz had kicked nearly all of them out of his group, but Walt was different to his core. He didn¡¯t just apply himself - the man had an unshakable sense of justice. The final test during modules was one of integrity. Either seeing how the baby enforcer would react to finding great, untraceable wealth, or how they¡¯d respond to offers to ¡®make deals¡¯ with the CCE trainers themselves. It had an astronomically high failure rate. Walt had recorded Fozz¡¯s ¡®attempted backdoor deal¡¯ and managed to file it in a complaint to his MSS. It was, to his knowledge, the first time a Multi-Sector-Sergeant had shown up to a module in person to greet a trainee. Fozz had grown close with Walt before the test, and after the deception was revealed, they¡¯d gotten over the extra bit of distance and developed a true friendship with one another. It was a good enough reason to visit Walt¡¯s ''freshly'' awakened world, and Fozz had left Earth with a handful of new names in his personal communications files. Earth was a planet with a terrible name, but very promising people. He queued up a live voice recording, like he always did. ¡°Good news, Walt. That case you sent me had a lead that ended up landing in my lap, so I was able to give it a look earlier than anticipated. The summary so far is that your vandal pilot - or at least his ship - did manage to get to a mining world called Denduram. From there, the ship was sent out to be scrapped. Found it on a dwarf planet¡¯s recycling station, waiting to be melted down. If I¡¯m honest, I think I only got to it in time because all the locals had last week off for a big wedding ceremony." A line of mid-priority requests rolled over one of his incoming message screens. A new planetary awakening always brought with it a slew of cases. Once the tutorial for Vuxarina started, they''d slow down to the point where Fozz could catch up to things again. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯ll send you more updates if I have them. I know that site meant a great deal to Sara. Give her my best, and if you have the time, bake her some of those snickerdoodles in my place. Send me some if you have extras. Hope you¡¯re taking care of yourself, too, Walt. I know being in your job isn¡¯t easy, and you probably don¡¯t hear this enough, so good work. I put your case file for the Wheathop pursuit into the curriculum for the next set of training modules. Really good work.¡± Fozz¡¯s hand hovered over the end recording button. A picture - a physical thing printed on thin paper - was stuck to the top of his control console. In it, Fozz held his arm around the shoulders of the most incredible woman on Earth. His brain thought of the things he longed to say. ''And.. tell my sweet sunshine she¡¯s a radiant beam in a sea of darkness, and I can¡¯t wait to dance with her again.'' He let out a long sigh - and realized he''d spoken out loud. Fozz blushed hard and cleared his throat. "Ignore that - Just... just tell her I miss her.¡± CH 82: Mole Reid froze. Breaking the rock off the wall was cathartic, just like Win had said. He''d definitely still been more wound up than he realized. The thing was darn tough, but he pushed through and cleaved it off in a series of large chunks - with only a little power cycling through his muscles. He''d finished, sweating and a mix of grateful and annoyed at Win, when she slapped him with the question. She seemed like a good person - and they''d bonded - but that didn''t mean she was. Reid tightened his grip around the handle of the pickaxe and swallowed. He didn''t want more violence. Not with her. He''d already started considering her the second good extraterrestrial friend he''d made. He tried to keep is words calm and clear. "Why do you think that?" "A few reasons, but mostly because you mispronounce Vuxarina regularly, and you''re totally fine with me calling you pinky - and your biology is all wrong for a Vuxarinan." Reid turned to face her. She was closer to where they''d come from - closer to the canteen. To the clinic. To Lycra. He couldn''t keep the edge out of his voice. "Is Lycra safe, or do you have him trapped, too?" Win glanced between Reid''s pickaxe, and the black rock. Her gaze swam in waves between hardening and softening like she was trying to make up her mind, then she asked a question, calmly. "Roc, do you think you''re going to need to kill me to get back home?" Reid shrugged. He tried to make it look as calm and nonchalant as Win''s tone. How did she know he was trying to get home? Or - did... did Win think of the main cavern as home? That seemed... pretty messed up. She casually walked towards the far wall, which left Reid ample room to get around her and back towards the canteen, if he wanted. "Lycra is fine. Because anything else would be wrong. He''s just a kid, you know. Anyway. I saw what you did to the muscle that hurt your friend. And I know enough to say that if you wanted to, you could have killed every single one of those meatheads. Could have - but didn''t. So, that makes me think a few things. First is that you''re not a bad person. Second, is that you don''t actually want to kill me. Heck, you''d want to let me live, because that would be the right thing to do." Reid''s voice went off almost involuntarily, like a mantra. "Doing the right thing is a luxury." Win searched over him for a moment, and then her faced changed into something Reid hadn''t seen yet. It was a deep, real sorrow. "That''s the shittiest thing I''ve heard in a hundred years. You really mean that, don''t you?" Reid didn''t answer. Win put her pickaxe on the ground, and sat on a rock protruding from the cavern floor. She gestured to another one near her with an upturned palm. "I''m not here to interrogate you. Well, maybe a little." She winked. "But it''s for a good reason, I promise." Reid took the offered seat. The heat of the rock seeped into him, and he felt his muscles start to relax. "I''m the oldest prisoner in these tunnels, Roc. I lost track of how many people I''ve greeted down here long, long ago. But I still take on this... stewardess role. This life is easier when people are pulling in a similar direction - and I don''t know which direction you''re going to take. Normally that''s a little thing, people can''t change much around here. But you''re not normal." Reid grunted. "Oh, don''t be sour. You know I''m right. So I want to know why you''re here, and where you came from, and what your intentions are for your time in this place." She pulled a packed ration out of her jumpsuit and underhanded it to Reid. "Right now, you''re... a clown car full of secrets. I think I have you pinned down, and everything''s out in the open, and then you show me something new and unexplained. It''s like there''s always just a bit more you''re hiding inside." Reid peeled open the wrapper and ate. Breaking the rock had made him hungry. "Let''s try this. I don''t want to leave this tunnel until I know just a bit more about you. You don''t want to tell me anything. So, I''ll ask you questions, and you can refuse to answer, or even just give me a yes or a no. You say when we''re done, and I''ll try to answer a question for you to match each one you answer for me. Sound good?" Reid swallowed. "Sure." "Alright. So, pinky - you''re not from Vuxarina, are you?" "No." "Why are you lying about that?" Reid arched an eyebrow. "Okay... then, can you tell me what planet you-" Win''s question was interrupted by a massive squeal. She was on her feet, pickaxe in hand, before Reid understood what the noise was. Her diamond eyes narrowed, and she gave Reid a warning before speeding off down the tunnel. "It''s a mole! Stay here!" She was faster than he would''ve expected - light on her feet for a creature of her size. But Reid wasn''t about to stay out of a fight. He needed levels, after all. Nyx had explicitly told him so. His right hand grabbed for the pickaxe he''d leaned against his sitting rock, and then he paused. The black rocks had been absurdly hard - and Reid needed to test out his post-upgrade throwing arm.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. # When Reid made it to the side tunnel, a group of injured miners was on their way out, limping and carrying each other back towards the canteen. Two were unmoving. An ear-splitting squeal echoed out in the confined space, bouncing off the tunnel walls. Reid hadn''t really thought too much about the actual beasts that had made the tunnels they worked in. The skulls over the toolshed were big, but not massive. The mole ahead of him was massive. Reid was very, VERY happy that the thing had a normal nose and teeth. His home state was a known habitat for a little animal called a star nosed mole - a rodent that had an eldritch horror growing off the front of its face. The one in front of him, thankfully, was just a large version of a typical creature. Eight tons of fur and teeth and claws lashed out violently - but Reid didn''t feel any fear. No desire to run. A fire burned in his gut - a voice and feeling deep within him that demanded victory and blood. A few miners were still trying to hit the thing, but it was obvious that they weren''t up to the task. Their pickaxes did little to sink into the creature, and it was too far away for them to hit it in a weak spot like the face. The tunnels made it difficult to attack it from above or below. Win did her best to fight. She slipped in and out in ways that reminded Reid of Sara''s fighting style - but a bit more... refined. He shouted at her and the others as he closed in. "Make a hole!" Only Win reacted, but she ushered the others back away from the creature. In its moment of respite, the mole lifted its head down the tunnel at Reid. A black rock, about as big around as Reid''s bicep, whistled its way through the tunnel and kicked up dust in its wake. The projectile sailed under the mole''s snout and collided with its chest. It seemed to disappear in fur for a moment. The mole''s massive frame bucked and slammed into the floor as the rock split it open and ripped a channel clear through it, out the other side. The rock''s leftover momentum saw it bounce off the tunnel floor, and it embedded into the far wall. You have defeated Escaped Deep Mole - lvl 17. Experience: 155,184,200 -> 155,234,200 / 209,715,200 (+50,000 xp) Reid looked down at his hand. He hadn''t even powered up that shot with his skill. Win stared, wide eyed, at the hole in the creature. The miners broke into uproarious cheers. # "Roc, Roc, Roc, Roc!" Voices echoed through the main cavern, as a troop of miners carried Reid, crow-surf-style, towards the processor. Another group farther behind was taking care of the corpse. Lycra was already waiting near the chutes, sitting in a dingy looking wheelchair with his foot covered in a cast. A very unenthused, vaguely marsupial thing held the handles. Reid was definitely on the medics'' shitlist. Reid''s one request - when the jubilant massing crowd of miners had mobbed him - was that they get his friend out from the clinic area to join him for this. They seemed to think Reid wanted a spectator, but he had something else in mind. His conversation with Win, as odd as it had been, made Reid realize he''d started evaluating most of his decisions as false dichotomies. He didn''t need to keep everything for himself - because he was going to be so flooded with opportunity and strength, it wouldn''t matter. There might still be hard choices, sure - but he was powerful enough to make his own path work for him. And that path included doing the right thing for those around you. When they finally put Reid down, the miners backed themselves into a semicircle, and the mole''s severed head was placed on the ground. The crowd quieted, a decent distance from the processor. Lycra''s nurse started to move him towards the crowd, but Reid grabbed the side of the wheelchair. "No - Lycra stays right here. He and I are splitting this." Yellow eyes widened. "No. No no. This is yours. You should claim it. I can be here longer - I don''t mind. You need to -" Reid wheeled him over to the head, and kicked it into the chute. He leaned down and whispered as the machine clanked and whirred. "Dust is dust. You''re stuck with me, Lycra. I''m going to get us both out, and when I go back to Earth I''m bringing you home with me... Also, I got you a backpack." Lycra nodded, and wiped his eyes. "Okay." - The clunking and whirring ceased, and the machine let out a new, trilling sound. Numbers appeared onscreen, just like they would with Crystal - except these were a great deal higher. [Lvl 17 Mole - 20,000 credits awarded. Split 10,000 / 10,000] Ten thousand credits off his debt, for one dead rodent. He''d made more from killing the mole than what he and Lycra had been able to mine in days. His mind started racing. If he could find a mole every day, he and Lycra would be out in... about a year? There were expenses, or other things that could happen. But it was a hell of an improved timeline. Freedom felt real. One of the miners in the semicircle shouted into a cone. "TWENTY THOUSAND!!" Reid was deafened by the cheers. # Later on, Reid and Lycra sat at ''their table'' with Win. Backpack in his lap, Lycra wore one of his vibrant toothy smiles. His nurse, Amelia, had joined them after much prodding by Win. She had an arm around the marsupial as she drank. The drinks were hellishly expensive normally, but taps flowed free when moles died. Reid didn''t know how alcohol was made down here in the Warrens, and he didn''t want to. He told himself it was just a skill like Warren had... huh. Weird.... and left it at that. Jim had also taken a seat for himself. He was apologetic and "nice", but Reid felt a lingering distrust towards him. Everyone around them was at least a bit more animated and lively after they heard about the dead mole. Jim had taken over the conversation. "I done been here three years, and In''t seen a single mole dead! An ya killed it... by yaself! Damn near run it through, that corpse! So what''s ya do? Skill for throwin''? Penetration? Gravity? C''mon, ya gotta say!" Win gave the blue man an annoyed look. "No, he doesn''t. And if you ask him again, I''m kicking you out of the table." "Aww, c''mon. We''s all jus'' curious, is all. An this here table belon''s ta Roc... An Lycra. Them says who sits." Reid could''ve sworn there was an annoyed undertone in Jim''s voice... and something else. It was as good a chance as any to see the man gone. "No, Win is right. It''s a rude question, and that''s the third time you asked. Have a beer on us, but do it at a different table - we''re going to talk about some other things." Win whispered in Amelia''s ear and slapped her on the lower back. The marsupial blushed, then stood up and walked away, stiff as a board. Reid gave her a look. "Why do you do that? Flirt with everyone?" She crossed her arms and gave him a playful tone. "Now we''re answering questions, are we? A big strong man spurned my advances, so I''m lashing out, looking for love." Lycra spat out his drink. Reid sighed and pinched his nose. "Alright. Walked into that one." Win kept up her smirk, and rolled a vial across the table. It was filled with a massive number of small purple pills that looked like candy. She raised her voice loud enough for surrounding tables to hear her. "Pestis Melanocytia is a tough condition, Roc. Especially for a Vuxarinan. I found a recipe for supplements that''ll help turn your skin back to its natural light purple color. Take one a week, and you should be back to normal in no time." She leaned closer, and lowered her tone. "With these, you''ll just need to get your pronunciation right." Reid opened the vial, then closed the lid. Selling the lie was important, but he wasn''t ready to just put a random pill in his mouth. But Win having this now meant that she''d made it before all of today''s events began. She''d made it for him before she got any answers to her questions. Reid made a decision. "I''d like to have a chat with you. Just the three of us, somewhere more remote." Win downed the rest of her drink. "You want to kill more moles, get credits, get out of here, yeah?" Reid nodded. Win leaned over the table. "Then I think I know just the place." CH 83: Smells Like Money Their group moved though the tunnels, path lit by crystal-powered lanterns. There were no lights embedded in the tunnels this far down. Reid had almost gotten used to the constantly-on illumination, and being farther in, with the prospective of true darkness was unsettling in ways he didn''t expect. As they walked, Reid expanded his cube-map to show their path. Win - unaware of Reid''s ability - had tablets she was scraping and etching into with a fingernail every time they came upon forks or bends. Reid liked his mapmaking better. He pulled a train of five crystal carts behind himself, and Lycra rode in one. His toe was technically healed now, but Reid didn''t want him walking on it. Lycra was slowly zipping and unzipping the smallest pocket on his backpack, which was loaded with rations and supplies. Others had wanted to come with them - including a very eager Jim. But they''d managed to keep the others at camp, and Win was certain they weren''t followed. Stopping to check for tails also had the benefit of giving them time to mine more crystal for the lanterns - Reid definitely didn''t want to be here in the pitch dark. There were more untouched deposits down here, and filling every cart they''d taken with them wouldn''t be too difficult. Once they finished with their conversations, they''d mine on the way back, and have a nice three or four day round trip in the books. Getting to where they were now had taken about 14 hours, if Reid was counting correctly. The overhead lights had disappeared after the first six. That was the first sign they were in dangerous territory, but Win told them to press on anyway. She had the most experience down here - and she knew where she was going. Win stopped when they came upon a new area. The tunnel walls stretched out to one side, so far the lantern couldn''t reach the edges. She twisted a knob, and the light focused itself into a small, powerful beam that swept in and over the area. The cavern it lit up was nearly half the size of the main camp. Its floor and lower walls were covered in the seashell-looking patterns where mole claws had dug down and out. The floor of the space was uneven, and flecks of reflective material glittered as the beam swept over the area. The floor, ceiling, and walls were all full of crystal. "Damn." Reid mused. "We won''t even need pickaxes for most of these." He didn''t know how right he was. # "So, why here?" Win dusted off the top of a rock jutting out of the ground, and took a seat. "This used to be a staging site, a long way back. We had more of the tunnels to ourselves, then. Fewer moles. There are some benches and tables somewhere in here, carved out of rock. Beds, too. It was the gateway to the deep tunnels. We were so giddy, we didn''t even take everything out of the walls. Saved it like a rainy day fund. But noise and heavy machinery - the vibration, I think - attracts the moles. When they did attack, the moles came in a group, and they came quick. It gets dark from there. Suffice it to say no one comes here anymore." "And we''re here because...?" "Well, first off, you''re the one that said you wanted to talk this time. Why don''t we start there?" Reid took a seat, and produced the vial from his pocket. "How did you know how to make these, what''s in them, and were you always going to give them to me?" "I''m something of an apothecary, you wouldn''t know the names of the ingredients if I told you, and yes. But it is what I said it is. It''ll make you look more like what you''re pretending to be. Your skin will change in hue, and it''ll make a few other minor changes that should fool a casual observer." Reid took in a breath, twisted open the vial, threw one of the pills into his mouth, and swallowed. He was here to build trust. The pink ball tasted like fake strawberry flavoring. "Why did you make these for me?" Win shook her head. "Nope, my turn. Question for question. Answer as vague as you want, but answer. When you get out of here, will you still be running from whatever''s got you hiding?" Reid considered it. "Until I get strong enough to face it, yeah." She nodded. "So you plan to fight. Good." Her eyes were strong and determined - but Reid sensed some hesitation. "You know the most about this place, and you''ve been here a long time. I see how much crystal you earn. Why are you still here?" Win''s eyes went to the top of the cavern. "There isn''t really an out, for me. At this point, I think DenDura owes me money instead of the other way around." Reid''s confusion was visible. "You mean DenWu?" Win''s eyes flashed. "Right, right. The nephew took over. Sorry. My turn. Do you think you can take on more of those beasts - the moles? Could you wipe them out of an area if you had a talented medic" She pointed to herself "-to help nurse you back healthy when you got hurt?" "Absolutely." Win pulled an older plate from her pack, and handed it to Reid. "The moles have a nest, and I think it''s down this path. This is where we sent a team of scouts, right before the moles destroyed this base camp. I expect there will be plenty more of the things down there. Enough for you to earn your way out of here. And you''re the only one I think I trust to take it on." "I thought there was a rule on sharing information?" Her head titled, and teeth flashed. "Who do you think made those rules?" Lycra had been out of his mine cart for a while, walking in circles to get the stiffness out of his legs. He went to sit on what looked like a rock protrusion, and fell backwards when it gave way under his weight. The smell that came out of the mound was awful in ways it was hard to describe ¨C like the time he¡¯d had to clean out his grandmother¡¯s broken garbage disposal. Reid¡¯s nose and eyes burned, but he forced himself forward to offer a gagging Lycra help out of what was now very obviously a dung pile. As Lycra came free, Reid heard the scraping rattle of crystal.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Size mattered. Most of the crystals they got out of the walls were, at most, the size of Reid''s forearm. The smaller ones were worth about five times less than the normal sized ones, and in the rare cases where Reid and Lycra had found something larger than his forearm, that individual crystal had been worth much more than the others. So when dung fell away to reveal multiple crystalline pieces, each larger than Reid''s bicep, he gasped. Win stood next to him and Lycra, eyes fixed on the wealth sitting in excrement. ¡°Win. Do moles eat crystals?¡± ¡°Unintentionally maybe, but they can¡¯t process them, so -¡° Her voice faded, and she snatched her lantern to sweep it over the cavern floor. Every few dozen or hundred feet, clumps of dung mounds interrupted the landscape. ¡°Holy shit.¡± Reid''s eyes lit up at the potential windfall they faced. It reminded him of old videos he''d watched of workers pumping out septic tanks. He did a deep inhale through his nose, then coughed and gagged. The inhale was a terrible idea. He still got the line out. ¡°Smells like money.¡± Lycra gave him an incredulous look. "Why did you do that?" Reid was still having trouble suppressing a gag. "Plumbers, people that dealt with waste back on¡­ my planet said that like a catchphrase.¡± Lycra''s look didn''t falter. "No. Why did you sniff?" # It was dirty and disgusting work, but these were easy credits. Easier, even, than killing another mole. They didn''t stop digging through the filth until the carts were just about overflowing with massive crystal gems. Lycra initially offered to do the digging for all three of them as he was already covered in dung, but neither Reid nor Win entertained that idea. "I need about seven showers." Win said, eyes on her hands. "But I can keep the clinic stocked for months on this haul alone. This find is incredible. I should have come back here sooner." "You sure about that?" Reid hooked the carts back together as he spoke. "You said there were moles down here. I mean, we haven''t seen any, but that doesn''t mean they''re gone." Lycra and Win both paused their work to turn and look at Reid. A low growl rolled in from the front of the cavern, followed by the sound of scraping claws dragging along the ground. Win grabbed a pickaxe. "I swear to the all-god, if I die covered in shit because you jinxed us, I''ll haunt you." Reid cracked his neck. "It''s fine. Both of you just stay back. I''ve got this." Lycra and Win flitted their lights over the area, revealing three moles. One was a head taller than the other two, and sported a scarred snout marked by puncture wounds. Bits of dirt flew into the air as Reid charged. The moles were about a football field away, and Reid put himself on a looping path instead of going straight after them - intending to direct their attention away from his friend. Friends. He wasn''t as close to Win as he was to Lycra, but she was good. The arc worked, and the big mole screeched as the two smaller ones both came after him at the same time. They seemed far more mobile in an open space than the level 17 had been in the tunnel. If Reid was going to be fighting more of these things, he needed to better understand them. He resolved himself to take the fight slow, and pay attention to how his enemies acted. One was circling around him as the other reared up and raised a recliner-sized hand. It towered over Reid, balanced on its feet as it tried to crush him. Reid was quicker. The pickaxe penetrated through the mole''s right arm just above the wrist. Blood geysered from the wound, but Reid had already jumped up towards its head and sent a swing towards its throat. The flat edge scraped a channel into the mole''s neck, and blood and bits of cut off fur flowed out and down its chest. The wound bubbled as it tried to breathe, and it collapsed before the second mole even reached him. As the first mole heaved and gurgled its final breaths, the second mole showed him a different fight. This one kept its head and strikes low to the ground. It meant Reid was always closer to its claws at any given moment, and more than once the creature tried to use its weight and proximity to body slam him. When he felt he had figured out what the beast was trying for with the odd stance, he plunged the pointed end of the pickaxe into its sides until it, too, was heaving its breaths. He ended the mole with a swing into its spine. Not having to go for the head every time made fighting a hell of a lot more enjoyable. You have defeated Escaped Deep Mole - lvl 12. (+30,000 xp) You have defeated Escaped Deep Mole - lvl 12. (+30,000 xp) That made sense. The fight had gone on longer in the open space, but only because he wanted it to. The final mole was charging him now, at least twice as fast as the smaller ones had been. Teeth larger than Reid''s head lined its mouth, and it let out a deafening, foamy-spittle-spewing screech. Reid gave a manic smile and roared. ¡°GIVE ME A REAL FIGHT! COME ON!¡± When it was thirty feet from him, the mole slowed and effortlessly flicked one hand to send chest-sized chunks of rock hurtling Reid''s way. Fast enough that he couldn''t dodge. A rock hit him in the left shoulder, and Reid spun 180 degrees before he could plant his feet. He was facing back towards Lycra and Win when claws took him in the side and launched him towards the cavern wall. He hit the ground and rolled for a good ten feet before he stopped the momentum. His side was a bit tingly, but Reid was barely cut. He just hadn''t had enough mass - nor good footing - to stop himself from getting pushed around. The mole had written Reid off, and was already going after his friends. They were both wide eyed, and Lycra''s lantern visibly shook - along with the rest of his body. Win had moved herself forward, between Lycra and the beast. Reid roared in an attempt to get the mole''s attention, and pushed power into his legs. The mole slowed, and turned its head towards him. It let out another foaming screech, made a swiping motion towards Lycra and Win, and charged to meet Reid. As they met, the thing lifted off the ground onto its hind legs, going for a crushing blow. His pickaxe had been lost when Reid was sent flying, and he needed a new weapon. He planted his feet, raised a fist, and concentrated. A long ivory protrusion poked out from his wrist and grew straight upwards at rapid speed. It pulled hard at his energy as a simple spear formed to meet the mole. The fresh spear pierced straight through the mole''s paw, and Reid flexed his arms to turn the weapon - and the mole''s arm - back towards its chest. The ivory spear plunged into it, pinning the arm. Thick rivulets of blood welled from the wounds and matted its fur. It heaved and panted as Reid twisted the spear in its chest like he was stirring cream into coffee. You have defeated Escaped Elder Deep Mole - lvl 19. (+60,000 xp) Experience: 155,234,200 -> 155,354,200 / 209,715,200 (+120,000 xp total) Reid caught his breath, and walked back towards Win and Lycra. Light was shining directly at him, and put spots in his vision. "Hey, can you move the lantern? It''s kind of blinding." When he didn''t get a response, Reid broke into a run. Behind the lights, he found his friends - bleeding and partially crushed. Reid lifted rocks off of them, and tossed the things aside. The mole had gotten an attack off at the two of them after all, and it had done a great deal of damage. Win had an arm and part of her chest crushed badly, and she wheezed in her breaths. She seemed to be barely holding on to consciousness. Lycra... was worse. His eyes were closed, and a baseball-sized section of his skull curved the wrong way. It bled into the dirt. As he took in the scene, Reid realized Win''s injuries were defensive. Lycra had been gravely wounded - but the rock that caved in Win''s chest would''ve killed Lycra in an instant if she hadn''t put herself in front of the attack. She''d saved his life - and put her own on the line. Win gestured Reid to her, and he moved. They were 14 hours'' walk from the clinic. How fast could he get them both there if he sprinted the whole way? "Give... your... name." Win''s words were labored, but clear. "I''m going to get help. Just stay awake, and I''ll tell you when you''re better." He scooped Lycra off the ground, and went to grab Win, but she held out a hand. If she resisted being carried, it would be an even longer run back. Despite her slow words, Win''s eyes blazed with conviction. "Don''t... run. I... save. Trust... full... name." Oh, fuck it. "It''s Reid. Reid Oliver Calderwall. Now let me carry-"
NOTICE: You have been granted a Title - [Honorary Knight] NOTICE! Prerequisite Conditions Met - Possess One Title Accolade Type: Titles - Unlocked!
Reid was speechless. Then Win''s entire body flashed with green, healing light. CH 84: Moral Scale The cavern glowed as green light oscillated and pulsed over Win''s entire frame. Her chest and arm expanded. Wounds closed. Scars disappeared. It took mere seconds, and when the light faded, her body started to convulse. Win sat bolt upright, then turned and vomited black bile onto the cavern floor. Win had both arms raised towards Lycra, radiating healing energy even before she finished with the sick. Reid wasn''t the target of her skill - but familiar, warm energies seeped into him and worked their way through his body nonetheless. Win''s healing was orders of magnitude more powerful than anything he''d felt from his wife - or Danny. Lycra''s form knitted itself back together, and the deformed part of his skull grew back out to its normal position. Energy continued to flow. Scarring on the top of Lycra''s head and the base of his neck faded and disappeared. His lingering cut from the shopkeeper''s thugs was gone, and his skin took on a new warmth. Reid waited for Lycra to open his eyes, but he remained unconscious. His calm, rhythmic breathing let Reid know he was alright. Win was breathing heavy, eyes rimmed red, and she looked as if she''d been starving for weeks. She raised an eyebrow at the bone spear Reid had let clatter to the ground. He''d forgotten - in the fight and after - about keeping his skills secret. But he wasn''t the only one that had revealed something. Healing wasn''t a skill that people had in the Warrens. At least, it wasn''t supposed to be. When she caught her breath, Win broke the silence with a question. "Does he know you can do that? The osteomancy?" Reid nodded. "Osteal Smithing. Weapons and armor. Yeah. Lycra knows just about everything. Who knows you can heal?" She moved over and laid down on a rock - one of the ones the mole had nearly killed her with. Reid followed, and laid Lycra down on one beside her. "You. And Lycra when he wakes up, I guess. I''ve got a specialty, too." She waved a tired arm at Reid. "The pills - skill based. I make them at the clinic so no one sees me do direct healing, but it''s the same principle. Package energy the right way, and it affects the body." Reid nodded. Things started to fall into place. Win''s focus on her committees and the clinic stemmed from her natural desire and ability to help and to heal. But it didn''t explain everything. Reid looked at his new status section.
Titles: [Honorary Knight] You have been entrusted as an expert, advisor, friend, or warrior of great renown. So long as you keep the granter''s trust and do not betray their confidence in you, you may keep and use this title as you would any other. You are 2% more powerful in the presence of the title granter. You are 1% more powerful in all other situations. You may elect to be recognized as "Ser" by system events and challenges. As an honorary knight, you may give out two [Honorary Squire] titles.
"How did you give me a title?" She waved a hand. "Let a girl keep some mysteries to herself. I''ll make it even, and not ask you my burning questions around your last name." She let out a grunt. "I bet your clown car isn''t even empty yet, too." "My what?" "You - are a clown car - full of secrets. All-god''s tits, Reid, pay attention to your friend''s conversations more. I need a nap. Don''t move me." Win was snoring seconds later. Reid looked between her, Lycra, and the spear on the ground. Win had revealed something to him - something she''d spent a long time protecting. She''d nearly died before she let it out. And when she did reveal it, she hadn''t paused a moment before she brought Lycra back from death''s door. Reid didn''t want either of them to get hurt like that again. As it was, Lycra and Win were both going to need time to properly recover - at least a day before Win should be back on her feet. He could still carry the both of them, if he needed to. Win''s snoring filled the cavern, but in the spaces between her breaths, he could hear blood and other fluids dripping out of the dead mole. An errant strike - or an intentional one - had nearly killed the both of them. If they''d been properly equipped, things would never have gotten so dire. Reid found a comfortable looking spot, and rolled his shoulders. He sat in the dirt. Then he reached inside himself, and crafted bone. # "It''s a bit tight around the tail, but damn good work." Win praised. She put the armor pieces back into the bone box, and Reid lowered it all into he hole. Lycra and Win each had a bone knife they''d be keeping on themselves for protection, but the rest of the gear he''d made was too eye-catching to bring back with them. It would''ve been like shouting to the entire prison what his skill could do. They''d tried on all the pieces instead, and were burying them an hour''s hike deeper down from the dung cave. Once they made it back to the main camp, Win would end up having to share where their find had been - and that probably meant more people would be coming down to strike it rich. When their trio ventured deeper down, they''d dig the box of equipment back up to retrieve everything. It was a long walk back to the processor, but a good one. Lycra practically skipped for the first hour. He''d been ecstatic to learn more about Win, and volunteered the information on his own Mana Lattice Engineer skill to ''even'' things out. When he realized she''d removed the scarring from the base of his neck, he''d broken down in happy tears. Three decapitated mole heads were haphazardly secured to the top of Reid''s mine cart train, and when they made it to the lit - and worked - tunnels, they drew attention. By the time they got to the processor, the entire area was packed with miners. There wasn''t a crowd surfing welcome this time - instead, everyone gave them and their still-foul clothes a respectful berth. They stared, incredulous, at the crystals and the severed heads.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. "Crystals first?" Win offered. Lycra and Reid agreed, and they dumped the carts out. [Crystal - 9,000 credits awarded. Split 3,000 / 3,000 / 3,000] Murmurs went through the gathered crowd. It was a damn good haul for how long they''d been gone. Reid hefted the heads over. There wasn''t enough room to fit them all in at once, so he started with the smaller ones as a pair The crowd collectively held their breath as the machine made its noises. TING! [Lvl 12 Mole - 6,000 credits x2 - 12,000 credits awarded. Split 4,000 / 4,000 / 4,000] Reid nodded, a bit disappointed. Win had warned them about the scaled rewards - and although it was significantly lower than the level 17, it was still a decent impact on their debt. I hope it scales the other way. A voice shouted to the crowd. "SIX THOUSAND EACH FOR THE SMALL ONES!" The applause was short and quickly died down. As it faded, Reid could hear murmurs of conversation in the crowd. - "A little one like that, I bet we could take it." "If a team of three can do it, maybe the moles aren''t so tough." "I bet they found a secret method. They should share how they brought them down." - He kicked the level 19 mole''s head into the chute, and waited. The crowd stilled and quieted. When the text came on screen, the word ''elder'' was flashing bold. [Lvl 19 Elder Mole - 84,000 credits awarded awarded. Split 28,000 / 28,000 / 28,000] Silence stretched for seconds. "E... EIGHTY FOUR THOUSAND!!!" The walls of the cavern shook as the crowd cheered. # "So people, that''s the news. I gave out the map to the poop cave - find a committee member if you want a copy. But remember, you go at your own risk. Not every mole you encounter is going to be taken by surprise mid-shit, and nobody in here is as tough as me - be smart, and don''t die in the dark." Win threw the cone down to the man who ''owned'' it, and jumped back down off the table. They were all thoroughly showered, and the information sharing portion of things was done. Win''s map had barely exchanged hands before a massive group formed and headed down to find their own riches in the poop cave. Jim was with them, and Reid was almost certain he caught the man sneering in his direction. Apparently, the mole''s level and reward were the highest in the Warrens'' recorded history. Either he was angry he hadn''t gotten to tag along with Reid''s group, or it was indicative of a larger divide growing between him and the blue man. Setting the record had brought with it a stifling amount of attention. Everyone wanted to talk about the fight, and the poop cave, and how they made it out without a scratch - like they were heroes brought to life. If Lycra hadn''t insisted on the walk that they come up with a simple, cohesive story, the charade about killing the moles mid-defecation would''ve broken down during the protracted questioning. Hero worship wasn''t the only way people were looking at them, though. There were groups and lone prisoners that hadn''t danced and didn''t celebrate. Instead, they watched the trio like they were looking at their next meal. Lycra and Win had also both noticed, and when they finally had the table to themselves, Win brought the topic up. "These idiots are planning on stealing the next head we bring up." She gave some of the prisoners eyeing them pointed looks, and even shouted at one. "If you can''t kill the mole, you won''t kill the mole killers!" Reid glanced behind him. "You really think they''d break the rules like that, in front of everyone? There''d be no way to hide it." Win took a swig from her mug. "Moral. Scale." Lycra nodded. "I had a group once. Good group. We helped each other - shared food, even." He looked up like he''d just realized who he was speaking to. "That was a big deal. One morning, a young one - Jenaka - she found a real coin pouch. Rare - almost everyone uses non-physical currency, like credits. The coin pouch was full - 20 imperial marks." When neither Win nor Reid reacted, he clarified. "Worth four million credits. She, and many others died that day. All in a free-for all for the pouch. There was enough to share, but it didn''t matter. One of the bigger teens - Frogg - he was good. A protector. Fended off a loaf once to help the young ones get away. He killed... many. And we never saw him again after he left with the pouch." Lycra did a wiggle-wave, then rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his neck. Win gave a curt nod and took over. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if it¡¯s orphans or high society - or these warrens. People¡¯s greed always works on a scale. The same person that would never think of stealing 3,000 credits worth of crystal from you would kill you for 84,000. If they had to and they could, they¡¯d probably be willing to kill everyone here. For many, that much money might be guaranteed freedom.¡± Reid found himself glancing around again. "I''d rather not be watching my back around everyone in here. We should keep close to one another." Win laughed. "They''re not all going to up and try to kill you, Roc - but morals shift around big things like this. If killing one person here would instantly make you strong enough to face down the people chasing you and solve all your problems, would you do it?" The question hung in the air. If Reid could get home by trading a single life? It would be a hard thing to not take the out. He''d killed Bertrand''s army by the dozens. What was one more death by his hands? "I''d like to think I wouldn''t, but... I don''t know." "Yeah." Win nodded empathetically. "Moral scale." # When the three of them set out again with fresh supplies the next day, they practically had to fight off the people that wanted to follow them out of the main camp. Then they had to do it again when miners at the poop cave saw them. There were over 150 of them in the area, and the massive number of dung piles they''d broken open made the entire thing nearly unbearable to breathe. It added extra time, but eventually they dug up the armor and weapons that were waiting for them. Lycra had a dual-edged, hero-style sword, and Win had the spear Reid made during the prior day''s fight. They both looked somewhere between intimidating and ridiculous in their white armor. Lycra''s had hollow protrusions for his ears that pushed it more towards the side of ridiculousness. Though Win now knew about Reid''s bone cube map, she still insisted on using her own etched maps to guide them. Ten hours'' hiking past the armor stash, she halted the group. What looked like a small step down in the tunnel ahead, was actually a crevasse - wide enough for any of them to potentially touch both sides at once, but deep enough that they''d be climbing out for hours or days - if they fell and survived. There were marks on the stone that didn''t quite match mole claws. Win turned them around, and nearly two hundred feet back from the chasm''s edge, found a smaller tunnel hidden partway up the lefthand wall. None of them had seen it because it blended into the other curves and scrapes in the stone - just like none of them had seen the chasm until it was nearly too late. Dark tunnels hid too many dangers. Win pointed with a hand. "That''s where we''re supposed to go. Something burrowed down since the original mapping, so we''ve got to climb up. Reid, give me a boost." Another two hours down the hidden tunnel, Lycra and Win gasped in unison. Their lantern light reflected off a massive ring made up of shimmering, alternating blue and white bricks. They seemed to shift and distort when Reid looked at them too closely, just like the beacon and its half-dome had. He waited for his friends to speak. "Escaped Moles. I was right." Win mumbled softly to herself. Lycra''s eyes were wide and wild. His voice was filled with wonder. "A challenge gate. A real, live challenge gate." He turned to Reid with a toothy grin. "Reid!! We will have a quest!!" Reid gave him a warm smile - though he had no idea what a challenge gate was. Quests, though, had never been easy. Which meant he would want to go in, not just with a weapon - but with his weapon. He sat himself against the cave wall, and breathed deep. It was time for a summoning. CH 85: Secret Dungeon (---) Jim (---) He moved, silent and stealthy through the tunnels. His people''s darkvision wasn''t the most prolific, but he''d earned himself two skills over the years that made his current work easy - invisibility and heat sense. The invisibility was a good one that almost completely masked his presence - and was usually the way he got himself out of trouble. The heat sense was his way of figuring out where his targets had gone. After the poop cave, they''d kept up an absolutely brutal pace that Jim didn''t care to match, but he''d still been able to track them down. Roc was a shifty, lying, narrow bastard. He wasn''t Vuxarinan. He wasn''t even from that sector. Buying the information from Thad had been expensive - and buying his forthcoming silence was even worse. It was worth it, though. A monopoly on information was how you stacked advantages. But that wasn''t the only lie. Roc had at least one skill he''d been hiding. Jim met an osteomancer once, and he knew what bone looked like. Getting close enough to see the three of them together had been risky, but the confirmation was worth it. It wasn''t the little one''s skill - not with the way he''d struggled to put on the armor. He had some good evidence to extort them with - but more was always better. His oversized pack was stuffed to the gills with supplies - including a water pouch with a straw that went directly to his mouth. He could follow them as far as he needed to figure out what secret they were hiding this time. With his heat sense, he didn''t even need to keep pace. The path forked again. Jim stepped into the one that had the residual bodyheat present. A ways in, there was the normal path ahead, in addition to a hot spot on the wall where the group must have sat to rest. Jim was getting close to them. He had to be. He slowed his pace, and pulled his pack around himself to the front. The top pouch unzipped, and he grabbed a ration bar without bothering to close it. He missed real food so much. Whatever these three were hiding from him would be his ticket out, and he''d use their secrets against them to ensure he got what he wanted. Then he could have a feast. He daydreamed about soups and breads, pastas and meats as he chewed on the ration bar. Jim was still mid-daydream when he plunged into the crevasse.
+ Reid + Reid repositioned himself against the wall half a dozen times before he gave up on being comfortable, and just tried to relax. He tuned out Lycra and Win''s quiet, excited conversation, and re-read Requiem''s trait description.
Smith''s Recall As the bonded creator of this weapon, the osteal smith is forever connected to their creation. Whether the original is damaged, destroyed, or lost - the smith may completely recreate Requiem through the use of mana alone. Whenever Requiem is recreated using this method, any existing versions of the weapon are immediately destroyed - even if the recreation fails. Requires sufficient energy, and a clear mind.
The original weapon was broken - and technically lost, or converted. Making it the first time had required extensive, concentrated use of his skills and a great deal of energy. This time... Reid had the distinct feeling it wouldn''t be nearly as arduous. He''d gained plenty of levels since then, and stats. His energy itself was more dense and plentiful - and he was using a trait instead of making something truly new. Even with his weapon gone, he could feel the two-way connections within himself where it was supposed to be. In each of those connections, there were links. Not like the strings of his other skills, but a silk-thin strand that ran from one to the next in a complex web. There wasn''t any reason to change what had worked for him in the past, so Reid pushed himself into the strand and followed it. The circuitous, rambling path brought him up, around, and back to the same nodes and connections, revisited just a little differently, or connected to a new neighbor. It was puzzling and odd and overly complicated, but he continued anyway. Strand to strand to node to strand to node to node to strand - the more he delved, the more connections he saw. They were so fine, so small, that he hadn''t seen them before - just the tangle of the web itself. Patterns began to emerge. Each node, where strands intertwined and connected, had a myriad of taut and slack strands connecting it to each other node he could see. The nodes themselves - at first a jumbled mess - were patterned against each other like the arms of a snowflake. Once Reid saw the arms - he realized there was a center to the pattern. Part of the reason he''d missed it is that it wasn''t a node, and it wasn''t a singular point. Strands weaved and wound their way around a pair of empty spaces. Each one was long and arced - like a curving tunnel - and when he followed the arc into and then out of one empty space, it lined up with the entrance to the next empty tunnel. His heart thudded in his chest. A ring. It was an intentional structure, sitting within him. Waiting. It took slow minutes, but Reid guided energy from the internal well within himself over to the ring in a continuous line, until the energy wound back in on itself - and completed the loop. Orange-yellow light flashed out from the ring as energy pulled out of his well and spun rapidly in the ring. It accelerated and drained at an exponential pace - then all of its momentum ceased. The bright glow flashed into every strand and node the ring surrounded, then went dark. The entire process, once energy hit the ring, had lasted mere seconds.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Reid opened his eyes. In his lap, under his hands, a long ivory mace glowed with residual light. It was almost exactly how he remembered it - with the six bladed flanges and the intricate grip - but there were changes. Changes that surprised and excited him. The last time he''d used the weapon, he realized the spiked rings on the haft between the grip and head caused more issues than they solved. The rings remained, but the spikes were gone - so while they could stop the momentum of a blade, Reid wouldn''t hurt himself trying to grab there. Every inch of the thing felt... more significant. The same way his skeleton did now with the increases he''d done to hit his new limit on Constitution. There were other bits - the top spike was shorter, and the blades themselves were more reserved and reasonable than he''d made them the first time around. All changes he''d thought of during his prior fights. All things he wanted to see himself do - that he already had in mind. The trait, Smith''s Recall, didn''t just regenerate the version of the weapon he was replacing - it made the version of Requiem he wanted his weapon to become. On the other side of the tunnel, Lycra and Win were both swearing and rubbing their eyes. Reid ran a finger over the names the Mace''s handle - and added two more. # "So, what do we need to know going in?" Reid asked. Lycra excitedly jumped on the explanation "Sometimes you can leave, but others - you get locked in until you finish the quest. We have rations and water, we should be fine if we get locked in." He pointed to his backpack, overstuffed to the point where it looked almost comical, strapped against his armored frame. It reminded Reid of how porters were depicted in animation and videogames. His hero-sword hung on his waist. "The quest is going to be killing moles." Win added. She held her bone spear like a walking stick. "I''ve always had my suspicions because every one I''ve ever seen killed had ''escaped'' in the description, but this is where all the moles have come from. When a space like this stays incomplete for too long, what''s inside can grow enough to affect the area around it, then creatures that should be stuck there are able to escape out into the world. Deterrents keep them from going too far up, but it don''t stop them from reaching us in the tunnels. I think - nevermind. Let''s do this." Armored, armed, and ready - their trio stepped through the brick ring together.
NOTICE: You have entered Challenge: [Mole Den] Group participation detected. Shared notices, experience, and rewards activated. Challenge Quest: Defeat Moles ( 0 / 5 ) - NOTICE! Skill Triggered - Accelerated Growth Challenge Quest Difficulty Updated Challenge Quest: Eradicate the Mole King and his Progeny. Objectives: 1. Kill the Mole King (0/1) 2. Kill the Mole Princes (0/5) 3. Kill Moles (0/23) 4. Secret Challenge: Complete all objectives in the time limit and without losing a party member. ( 1d 23h 59m 57s ) NOTICE: You may not exit the challenge area unless all objectives are completed.
Win''s jaw hung slack, and she slowly turned her head towards Lycra and Reid. Her voice was unnervingly calm. "What is Accelerated Growth?" Reid bit his lip and nodded. "It''s a skill." Win focused on Lycra and lifted her eyebrows. "It''s a zero skill like mine! But it makes Reid grow faster the more achievements he gets, and it makes his quests the hardest they can be! He is a storm of fates!" Reid stared. "What? You were ready to tell her anyway." Win took a long, drawn breath. "Clown car. Full of secrets." # When they made it to the first fork inside the challenge area - which Reid was just going to call a dungeon, because they were underground and it sounded better to him - Win took a reflective marker out of her bag and tossed it to him. It had a ridged spike that protruded out the back. "Path marker. Set it into the wall about 10 feet before the fork, with a good amount of force. If we need to get out of here in a hurry, those will reflect lamplight and lead us back." Reid nodded, and slammed it into the side of the tunnel with two blows from his palm. The ridges on the spike created and undulating vibration as it buried itself into the rock. ## They only needed to walk for ten minutes after the fork to find the first moles. A trio were assembled in an excavating formation, where two furiously scraped at a tunnel wall while the third seemed to suck up the chunks of dirt and stone they threw back like a vacuum. The rear mole was the first to notice them, and it hissed at the others. The two diggers continued for a few seconds, pelting the more alert mole with bits of dirt and stone until it vocalized a louder series of hisses. They were each slightly larger than the level 17 had been, and their fur was a distinct chestnut brown. Each mole had puncture wounds along the snout - just like the level 19 from the poop cave. Win and Lycra staggered themselves behind Reid, and stayed put as he charged forward. The closest enemy flicked stone and dirt towards him, and Reid jumped up over the projectiles - straight towards the ceiling. He managed to get a forearm above him before impact, and redirected himself back down towards the trio. One grabbed for his ankles with its mouth, and another had a strike lined up for his chest. Reid let the first mole bite down on his armor, and smiled when its teeth cracked against his greaves. Still in the air, he brought his mace down in a one-handed arc, and smashed the attempted biter in the skull. His mace cleaved and tore through chestnut fur, bone, brain, and everything else. The momentum of the blow continued and carried through the creature so effortlessly that the arc of his strike nearly brought Requiem back around to hit Reid in the foot. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 18. (+55,000xp) Reid''s change in momentum, brought on by the swing, made his second attacker miss. Its strike continued down and cracked the tunnel floor - which left it open. Reid landed on both feet, miraculously didn''t stumble, and made an overhead swing down into the mole''s side. It came apart like cutting butter, an oversized rend ripped down through it that sprayed gore in a cone onto the tunnel floor. The massive mole heaved out three gurgling breaths, then collapsed in a heap. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 18. (+55,000xp) Weak. The moles were weak. The final enemy looked ready to run when a spear sailed in from behind and buried itself in the creature''s flank. It screeched in pain, leg twitching and useless. Reid lined himself up for a lefty baseball swing and crushed its snout back to the base of its neck. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 18. (+55,000xp) Win casually walked forward, and pulled her spear back out of the beast. She stared at the discolored section that had been buried in the mole for a long while. "Good spear." Then looked at the bodies. "Great mace." Reid shrugged. "Weak moles". CH 86: Regicide, Part I The next group they found was another group of three, digging a new tunnel. They fell just as easy as the first. They repeated nearly the same encounter twice more before anything changed. A pair of moles, larger than any they''d seen so far, were screeching wildly ahead as they... coupled in the middle of the tunnel floor. They foamed at the mouth as they twisted and rolled. The fur on both was more grey than chestnut, and the claws seemed to be a deeper brown than any he''d seen so far. Neither of the things had noticed there were people in the tunnel. - You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 20. (+75,000xp) - Reid tried to get both in a single swing, but only managed to kill the first with his opening strike. The other moved itself out of his immediate range, and then its claws began to glow with a silver-brown light. Reid waited for it to slash out, or throw stones. Instead, a pillar of rock shot out of the wall and slammed into Reid from the side. He slammed into the cavern floor, and had to roll to avoid another pillar that crashed down from the ceiling. He spared a glance behind him - Lycra and Win weren''t targets of the attacks, for now. Reid had dealt with magic melee attacks, and things throwing regular projectiles, but he''d never really had to worry about magic projectiles - at least not any that could properly damage him. But he saw, in those pillars, bits of the darker, nearly black rocks that Win once had him break - the ones that were much, much harder than the normal stone. Danger hid in these pillars, and he needed to avoid taking hits. In a series of haphazard jumps, rolls, and charging sprints, Reid reached the wizard mole and lashed out with his mace. A pillar from below took him by surprised and smashed into his elbow. It drove Reid''s strike off-target, and Requiem smashed off the mole''s lower jaw instead of killing the thing entirely. Thick blood and saliva poured out of the open top half of its mouth and down the mole''s neck. A flurry of pillars grew and shot out from all directions, like the tunnel itself had come alive. The new attack style was dangerous for Reid - but could be deadly for his companions. He threw himself into an open area not intersected with rock, and whipped his mace around into the creature''s spine. It screeched, and the glow faded from its claws - but Reid didn''t get a kill notification. He moved over to the head to kill the creature - and saw its small eye blazing with fury. Its claws flashed with light as Reid brought his mace down. While Requiem smashed into the creature''s skull, a narrow column of black rock burst out of the mole''s arm. It was a well-aimed, final strike. The thing had even ignored damage to itself to hide the attack - and the absurdly hard rock slipped in where his armor didn''t cover, and smashed through his collarbone as well as part of his neck. Blood spilled out and discolored his armor, but Reid wasn''t too worried - the damage wasn''t the worst he''d received, by a long way. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole Prince - lvl 22. (+125,000xp) Reid stumbled, and had to awkwardly lift himself up and back to slide the rock out of himself. With the rock removed, his neck and shoulder bled heavily. The damage to some muscles made his head loll to the side, and Reid stumbled at the changed perspective. He caught himself on his knees by putting a hand to the ground. His other went to his neck. On instinct, Reid stopped the bleeding. His dense energy was still plentiful, even after recreating Requiem earlier - so he pushed on and flooded his wound with resources that stitched and knitted broken bits back together. Reid''s collarbone was fixed, and the wound itself was almost entirely closed by the time a sprinting Win reached him. Her hands were already glowing as she skidded to a stop at his side. She looked... more than worried. Panicked. Desperate. "Reid! I''ve got you! It''s alright - stay with me!" Her face was concerned and searching, then confused, and bewildered. She spent another few seconds exploring Reid''s wounds to make sure he was okay, then her eyes narrowed. Her tone was terse, even as she finished rejuvenating Reid''s damage. "How?" Reid shrugged. His shoulder felt... good. No lingering pain or heat, even with only moments exposure to Win''s healing energy. Her skill really was something else. "Strengthening, mostly." She looked uncomfortably composed. "Right. I won''t pry - but as our healer I need to ask questions. That''s not at all what strengthening does, but - let''s just say that''s what it is. It only works on yourself, right?" Reid nodded. "Major restrictions? Cooldowns? Weaknesses? I want to know whether you''re going to bleed out if I need to choose between you and Lycra." Reid counted off thoughts on his fingers. "I have to be conscious, and it takes time and energy. More time and energy than healing magic. And it hurts. And the recovery time is longer." Win stared at his moving fingers, then her gaze went back to his neck. It lingered there for an uncomfortably long time.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "...Okay." Win stood, and dusted off her legs. It was only then Reid realized her hands were shaking. She made an unusually brisk walk over to Lycra, thanked him for retrieving her spear, then started off further into the dungeon. Win was almost always composed. Her sliding in to save him was the first time he''d seen her panicked. And she was not okay. # Their trio had an awkward, silent half hour of walking where they encountered no moles. Win seemed to be lost in her own world - not so much aloof or ignoring them, but distracted and deeply contemplative. She''d been empathetic, to nearly everyone, the entire time he''d known her. It was only now that Reid realized he hadn''t done much to figure out how she was doing herself - and that he had no idea what might be troubling her, so he had less than no idea on how to empathize. Lycra had stopped attempting to make conversation more than twenty minutes ago. He finally broke the silence again - with a new tact this time. "Win!" She moved her head in his direction but didn''t slow. "I have a serious request!" That got her attention enough that she finally stopped walking. The rims of her eyes were discolored, and she had to clear her throat to talk. "What is it, Lycra?" "Please enact a life trust with me! Reid and I like you! We think you are good. I want-" Win held up a hand to stop him. "No." Lycra looked wounded. Win sighed. "No, because there are things I would not share, and I could not enter the trust intending to break it." She fully turned herself towards them. "You were going to use it to figure out what''s bothering me, right?" Lycra nodded. She sighed again. "I can give you a vague story. I had someone I cared for, very deeply." She looked both of them in the eyes. Hers softened a bit as they swept over Lycra and Reid. "That was too vague. Allow me to be... a bit more open. My father was a hero of a man. He was kind, and brilliant, and strong. I thought he was invincible. When it came, his death was so sudden and unexpected and bizarre that none of us realized it had happened at first. I didn''t even rush..." She cleared her throat and shook out her hands. Her tail twitched. "I was too late. More happened after, and all of it was just as bizarre and confusing and terrible as his passing. Reid''s injury - or what I thought his injury was, and then the shock that he was fine - brought up flashes of those other memories. It''s why I rushed in like I did. Those memories - they''ve been buried for a long while, so I was sorting through them. I''m sorry if I was rude. I apologize for making you worry, but I''ll be fine." Lycra practically marched over to Win''s legs, and slammed into her with a hug. She patted him on the head, and smiled. "No apologies to us. You smile, and that is all that counts." Lycra gave her an extra squeeze. "I am glad the first plan worked." Win cocked an eyebrow. "Oh? And what was your alternative?" Lycra''s teeth flashed a full smile as he looked nearly straight up at her. "A threat." # # Win was - for the most part - back to herself after that. The next group of moles was a set of six diggers they ran into another 20 minutes walk down the tunnels. They fell easy - with no magic moles in the mix. Their next encounter was another prince, by itself. Instead of pillars, that one had used rock defensively. While it made things take slightly longer, the kill came all the same - and Reid learned that Requiem was tough enough to crack, redirect, or break through the stone depending on its toughness. The memory of his final swinging blow through the mole''s last attempt at a defensive wall made Reid grin. The third and fourth princes had each been paired up with another, weaker, non-magical mole. Thankfully, none of them were... engaged. The third prince launched actual projectiles at him, instead of the ''attached-to-the-ground'' pillars he''d encountered with the first prince. Stone bullets, each the size of a watermelon, were dangerous and risky things to deal with. Reid had made Lycra and Win retreat around the last tunnel bend while he fought that mole. The fourth was similar to the first''s magic, though it used pointed spikes rather than flat columns. The thinner attacks were quicker, but also packed less punch. Both the stone bullets and the spikes had hit him, but he didn''t receive any real damage. After the black rock injury fighting the first prince, he didn''t underestimate them again. They''d made good progress. Damn good progress, based on the timer. With Win keeping Reid from tiring or getting fatigued, they still had a day and a half to finish the quest.
Challenge Quest: Eradicate the Mole King and his Progeny. Objectives: 1. Kill the Mole King ( 0 / 1 ) 2. Kill the Mole Princes ( 4 / 5 ) 3. Kill Moles ( 21 / 23 ) 4. Secret Challenge: Complete all objectives in the time limit and without losing a party member. ( 1d 12h 51m 38s ) NOTICE: You may not exit the challenge area unless all objectives are completed.
Experience: 155,354,200 -> 157,029,200 / 209,715,200
Reid''s gains hadn''t been insignificant, either. Between all the moles he''d taken out in the tunnels so far, he''d earned over 1.6 million xp. And there were more points waiting for him. - The tunnel ended in a towering cavern that was nearly as large as the dung cavern. Glowing growths lined the ceiling and bathed everything within in a pale blue light. There were raised dirt and stone nests that littered the space, especially near the walls. Each nest was shaped like the mouth of a volcano - a cone where the tip had been removed and hollowed out. Piles of garbage were strewn about at multiple points in the place, though most sat close to a nest. They were filled with worn and faded clothing - and plenty of prison jumpsuits. The bulk of the piles were made up of building-material looking things like wood, metal pipes and frames, sheets and supports. But Reid also saw more interesting - and potentially valuable - bits here and there. A sparkle of shining material that could be a precious metal or discarded crystal. An odd mess of copper tubing, and somehow-intact glass lab equipment. One pile was full of partially decayed books. The far side of the cavern sported a single, wide, raised portion of rock - like a shelf or stage had been built into the wall. The last prince and the final two standard moles were down on the main cavern floor. All three were sleeping. The king - obvious in its size and the fact that it had no scars on its snout - slept on the shelf. Convincing Lycra and Win to stay back and out of sight was far easier than he''d expected. He didn''t even have to go into explanations about why he''d be able to focus more without worrying about them. Whether that was a good thing, he wasn''t sure. Reid eyed a nest that had started to crumble. There were some good rocks there. Throwable rocks. CH 87: Regicide, Part II Sometimes, nature was just cruel to you. A former classmate loved bread and baking enough that she bought herself a small shop in a nearby town. Nearly a decade went by, with her making her dream life work by scraping and pinching in the hard years. All the while - though every bad day and in every celebration - she was still doing what she loved. Brioche bread was still fluffy, even if you were late on a utility bill. But what she loved betrayed her. It was almost targeted, that a baker would develop a severe gluten intolerance. It was doubly terrible that what you''d enjoyed turned around on you. Reid had an unwanted appreciation for what that must have felt like. The first rock slammed hard into the ground less than 50 feet in front of him, as if he''d thrown it into the dirt. He rolled his arm. The second, he wound up like a pitcher - and watched it slam into a mound instead of heading to its intended target. The third he''d let go of early, and it managed to scrape the ceiling of the den - okay, he''d let go of it very early. The fourth and final failed throw missed its target wide. He gave his arm an angry look. In the tunnel, he''d killed the mole with one throw - but that had been an enclosed space... and he''d been much closer to the beast. With more range - and accuracy required, Reid was starting to have an appreciation for how much precision he seemed to be missing. He''d played sports pretty regularly, and he knew his aim wasn''t that bad. Heck, back at Santuary''s wall, he''d been a human catapult with thrown projectiles. Maybe it was the aftereffect of what the system and stats were doing to his body - or the consequences that resulted when you didn''t put enough points into things like dexterity. In any case, his missed shots meant he''d lost the element of surprise and burned his initial tactic with absolutely nothing to show for it. The moles were awake, and they were not happy he was there to visit. The king''s claws glowed. Stone bullets, each the size of a VW Beetle sailed towards him from the king''s direction in arcing, artillery-like shots. They slammed hard into the floor of the space and shattered on impact - a two-part danger that would see Reid get injured if they impacted directly or if he didn''t move himself far enough from the point of impact to prevent shrapnel from hitting him. Dodging the car-sized projectiles required him to jump and dive and keep track of the trajectory of the growing number of the things, and it was taking up far too much of his attention. Thankfully - those ranged attacks stopped a minute later. The king had halted its magic to prevent friendly fire - and the two non-magical moles that had caused the cessation of car-sized projectiles tried to rip him apart in their teeth. Reid was much happier with this fight. They''d run out to meet him, and one flicked its paws at Reid like pinball paddles. He was ready for a thrown stone - but instead he got the mole version of pocket sand. Red-orange dirt and dust flew into Reid''s path, and left him blinking. He took a swipe from his left, and stumbled into a mound before his eyes could focus again. Reid tried to climb the mound to get the high ground, but it crumbled as the moles smashed the dirt and rock away. He slid down the collapsing dirt side of the now-broken nesting mound, and came to a stop in front of a pair of massive front paws. Reid stomped down and broke a finger. The mole screeched in pain, and reared back - leaving its stomach exposed. Requiem pulled open a long, jagged gash, and intestines spilled out and steamed. The cries from the mole lowered in volume as it struggled and succumbed to its wounds. So far, the prince had been holding itself back. When it saw the first mole screeching and bleeding, it let out its own cry of fury and threw itself forward to join the fight. As it closed in, Reid saw the thing flicking its attention between him and the disemboweled creature. The prince got in close - and Reid prepared himself. He''d dealt with pillars and spikes, bullets and walls. Whatever came, he''d be ready. The mole swiped its paw at Reid in a downward diagonal. Reid brought Requiem up to meet it - and the claws glowed. What happened next wasn''t a direct magic attack - nor was it technically defense. The ground under Reid''s feet shook and moved. The sudden change in footing threw him off balance, and instead of meeting the strike with Requiem, Reid fell on his ass. The paw slammed into his prone form as the ground stilled. It knocked the wind out of him and put a dent into the dirt. Reid''s bone armor stressed and flexed under the force of the blow and the weight of the mole. He brought a hand up to meet the beast''s, and pushed. His arm tensed - and he flooded power into the muscle. His hand practically threw the paw in the air, and Reid used the opportunity to get Requiem back up, pointed at the beast. He thrust forward, and was rewarded with torn flesh, and fur matted with blood. The prince let out a roar as it jumped back, and its claws started to glow again. Reid pushed power into his legs, and jumped. The ground below him shook and churned in a 10-foot radius centered on where he''d been standing. It was like a minor earthquake, but even that description didn''t feel quite right. The solid earth where he''d been standing shook and jiggled like it was made of jello. Reid''s jump wasn''t really aimed at anything - it had just been his way to get away from the area affecting skill. So he was midair, in the middle of the cavern, just starting his descent. He let himself fall, with his mace readied for a swing. But nothing was in range. Instead, he tumbled down into the bowl of a nest mound. There were remains there. Infantile skulls of moles that had never made it out of the small pile of dirt. Many sported thin and fine holes in their skulls, and most had cracked arm or rib bones. Many looked like they might''ve been killed with weapons, but others had damage that didn''t seem to line up with what would come from moles or standard weaponry. One body was more of a husk, and Reid could tell that it had starved to death. Part of him almost felt sorry for the dead beasts - but there were people''s remains in the trash piles. Things were just unfair like that.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The ground beneath Reid shook again, and he pushed more power into his legs. They burned with the repeated effort as they propelled him up into the air - and towards a target. The final, uninjured, non-magical mole had taken itself out of the fight to stand in front of its disemboweled brethren. It was another slightly touching scene, but the mole made for a poor protector. Requiem caught it in the spine at its shoulders and crippled the beast in a single blow. He took the opportunity to finish it off with a blow to the snout that caved in part of its skull. Both non-magical moles were dead, mere feet away from one another. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 21. (+100,000xp) You have defeated Elder Deep Mole - lvl 21. (+100,000xp) Now, only the prince and the king remained. The ground started to rumble beneath Reid''s feet - and he threw himself forward. The prince was still fighting him, hard. It seemed to be even more upset now that he''d killed another of its kind... but the king''s efforts hadn''t really changed. The king had stayed on the shelf for the entire fight so far, content to fire off ranged attacks while the others harassed Reid up close. Why hadn''t it come out to attack him? Or, why hadn''t it used different magic? It was almost as if the king had been something of a ranged spectator in this fight. And that had to change. With the close combatants dead, the prince would now be able to keep him at bay with magic, and force Reid into a position where the king would be able to start his rock rain again. If his sure bet on avoiding magic attacks was to be in the vicinity of another mole, Reid''s best option was to draw both enemies into melee range at once. Since the king wasn''t moving, Reid needed to bring the fight to it. He pushed power into his legs, and sprinted. His muscles groaned with complaint. The king screeched at his advance, and a nearly-solid wall of stones hurled themselves in his direction. Reid didn''t look for a gap - he looked for weak projectiles. Ones he could afford to take. He found it in a tan colored boulder. Reid skidded to a stop where the thing would impact, and braced Requiem against the ground. He huddled down as low to the base of the weapon as he could manage, and kept both arms as close to his head as possible. The boulder slammed hard into his weapon. It sent a shock down his body as the boulder split into smaller stones. They pelted into Reid''s armor - and the gaps. Bits of rock embedded themselves in his skin, and marred what had been mostly-intact ivory plates. Reid rose, ignoring the pulls and tears of the bits of rock stuck in him. He didn''t have time to worry about such minor injuries. One of his pauldrons was cracked, but his armor had held up. Now it just needed to do that again. Reid charged ahead, until another solid volley sent him skidding to a stop at a breakable impact point. This time, the stone didn''t split as well. A chunk with leftover momentum slammed down into his right foot. It cracked and chipped his bone armor enough that his pinkie toe was injured. Reid grunted in pain. These stones weren''t just rocks from the cavern. There was some sort of extra energy to them - probably added by the king''s attack, that made them much stronger than they should''ve been. All around him, these new volleys had half buried themselves in the ground. He pushed forward again The only real upside to Reid''s current advance was that there was no chance of the prince catching up to him too early. It waited behind the outer range of the boulder artillery, cautious of the rocks. When Reid finally did reach the shelf, he was panting. He bled from dozens of rocks and pebbles that had found purchase in his skin, and his bone armor was fractured, chipped, and broken in multiple places. The king was still in the same spot - and sluggishly tried to back itself towards the rear wall. It let out a loud and long screech that also distinctly sounded... scared. Reid slowed his advance and took it in. The king was larger than the others, but also much, much older. White and greyed fur covered its face, and its eyes were bleary and red. There were sores on its body - the kind that happened when things were immobile for long periods of time. Its claws were overgrown and curled back towards themselves, and its paws were gnarled. It panted in labored, shallow breaths. The overgrown claws started to light up with color, then failed and started to fade. This might have once been a warrior king, but it was no warrior anymore. Despite the awesome power it showed with the magic it had flung at Reid, the creature had been dulled and weakened by time long before he''d ever stepped foot inside its den. He took another step towards the old beast - and realized he''d over-focused on his target when the prince slammed into him from the side. Its teeth gnashed and cracked against his armor, desperate to find purchase and end him. He''d imagined this whole thing so wrong. Reid expected the prince was the sub-boss he needed to make it through just to get the chance at the final, fraught confrontation. It was a silly thought, but Reid just assumed that was how things worked. Instead of what he''d envisioned, Reid got a different scenario entirely. The prince wasn''t the lead up to some final fight. It was the fight - like a bodyguard that was desperately trying to keep the king alive. It was frenzied now that Reid was up on the shelf with the older creature. In its desperation to protect the king, the prince left openings. Requiem came down and cracked the top of the prince''s eye socket. The prince stifled a screech, and didn''t let him go. He tore a four inch deep ribbon of flesh off its neck with a good swing, but the mole kept trying to shake and bite him. Reid managed to get a good swing into the cut he''d just created, and finally did real damage. Requiem sunk into the prince''s neck and pulped flesh. The prince bled profusely. It gurgled breath in and out of the side of its neck. But it still refused to let him go. Even as it died, the mole put every ounce of its effort into keeping Reid locked in its jaws. You have defeated Elder Deep Mole Prince - lvl 24. (+200,000xp) Only after the final blow did Reid manage to get himself free. He looked down at the prince with mixed emotion. It had been doing everything it could to protect... family. Reid knew what that was like. It had fought like hell, even if it was panicked and stupid at the end. He knew a little of that, too. There was no one else here to recognize its efforts, nor its will. Reid shifted his mace to his off hand, and gave the defeated beast a pat on its snout. - As Reid approached the king, it looked out at the cavern as if it were scanning over every mound and rock. Its panoramic gaze stopped on the prince''s body, and then it looked to Reid. He may have imagined things, but he felt like there was longing, resignation, and relief all set into its eyes - like it was finally done with a life drawn out for too long. It huffed with effort, lifted itself up on two front paws, then shakily extended its neck, and lowered it to the ground. It vocalized in a low, undulating grumble as it offered Reid its life. Reid pushed power into his arms and back until his muscles were ready to burst. He hefted requiem above his head. Then Reid granted the king the mercy it desired. CH 88: Preparations (((..-- DenWu --..))) Four orders of business sat on his desk. The first was an analysis from his boys that stated the weather for the next few months could result in highly active seasonal storms. Rain wasn''t always a given on Denduram, but it was plentiful when it came. The second was a nothing report - but also a serious one. The raw crystal mine - his mole warrens - were not the most monetarily lucrative venture on Denduram. They weren''t even the most strictly profitable thing he had going on in that mineshaft. But a large stockpile of ''unknown'', unprocessed, and unregulated crystal opened doors for many other ventures. The same people that wouldn''t look at him or this planet twice pried with honey and wine when they became aware of things. Unregulated crystal had a lot of uses. Unprocessed - and volatile - crystal was even rarer. Because it was dangerous, it was jumped on. And because it was generally in supply only on the younger worlds, you either had young and unregulated things waiting to be taken over by the inhabitants or their sponsoring party, or an old deposit that was too well known to hide. But the Warrens were different. Over thousands of years, a steady ecosystem had built itself up - balanced between a challenge dungeon and its inhabitants, the earthworms they ate, and those chitinous things in the depths that were drawn to both. The recipe created a perfect environment for a consistent, workable series of mana crystal veins. The entire prison down there was designed around that balance - including the suppression collars. Just enough to make a fight in numbers against a mole winnable. Just enough reward, scaled up, that residents of those depths prone to violence would send themselves to an early grave and leave only good, obedient, timid workers alive. Healing skills were kept out of the mines specifically so that death would be guaranteed for those foolish enough to go challenge the creatures. The gate itself was ancient, and so were the true residents inside. DenWu''s uncle had been part of a delve, once, to confirm the status of the den. Large and plentiful enough to support things for thousands of years more - as long as they reproduced enough to stay advantaged over the bugs.. And the anchor and leader, an aged king, had been on the decline - but still had enough fight to wipe out half of the team sent to survey things. Today, that same king would probably be dead - or damn close to the end of its natural life. To be replaced by a prince, and the cycle would continue. There were ups and downs, more or less escaped moles - but always enough crystal and enough miners suppressed to G grade to retrieve it. It was a black well, where rivals and enemies and the prisoners of allies were thrown to rot and be forgotten. There was no way up - and down was death. Or should be. The week''s numbers had steadily risen, following multiple moles dead in rapid succession. Someone was killing things, all too quickly - and that had opened up new tunnels and veins for exploit. On one hand, it was good to have more resources to barter. On the other - if a collar malfunctioned and wasn''t caught, or if too many crazy prisoners banded together, they might just throw off the balance. Too much, too quickly was a problem. If they delved too deeply, driven by greed - they would only serve to draw the attention of much more dangerous beasts. It was a problem he would normally want to address. The third item of business were the continued, mundane tasks required in the aftermath of Thad''s betrayal. Mostly flower and stone arrangements, and planning which internment rites he was able to attend in each given week. It was good for people to see him there - to know that he put enough value in the lives of his personnel to see them sent off beyond. But it was largely optional. The final item was of greater concern than all the rest. His databoys, in their fervor and design, had long ago made early warning style systems to ensure they all knew when someone was looking into DenWu''s business, and when unwanted visitors may come calling. It wasn''t a perfect system when it came to timeframe, but it was generally correct on the visits themselves. There was a high chance one of those was on their way now. From what he could tell, a highly commended CCE had taken an interest in something to do with his dealings, and would be landing and announcing himself sometime in the future. It could be the day after tomorrow, or two months away - but he was coming. Whether he was coming to investigate a more reserved arm of DenWu''s enterprise, or something that could cause real problems remained to be seen. But the visit had quickly become the issue of greatest priority. Staying out of a cell was achieved through methodical self-control - and patience. He''d survived many visits, and audits, and even a full investigation by his simple ability to do nothing while the heat rose. He wouldn''t investigate anything in the tunnels, because it would draw attention there. He wouldn''t show up to any illicit deals, nor would he notify them of his absence. Anything that had the slightest chance of getting him linked to troublesome dealings could wait until the visit was concluded. He burned out the report file, and sent s self-deleting blanket message to do the same. Everything would be sanitized, and the staff would pull from piles of legitimate work to sell the impression that every task and deal going on was completely above-board. "We have a visitor coming to the offices, potentially as soon as tomorrow or as far out as the month after next. Please ensure your areas are ready to receive guests."
||+|| Win ||+|| He was interesting, self-assured and righteous, quick to anger for his friends, but less so for himself. He gave her space when she''d been sifting through her memories, and staunchly refused to even consider having her and Lycra in any sort of danger - even though she was far older, and more experienced. She felt remorse, now, for slapping him with the test. A conditional title, for the purposes of hyping up good citizens and giving an early warning if they began to plot or plan against you. But bits of light had begun to push through her old thick walls. Her partial guises had started to fall away, and she was being more of herself with Reid and Lycra both. She was still reserved - she would always be reserved - but it was hard to remain collected and even-keel with their antics. Reid kept her on her toes with his outlandish nature and feats. Heck, she hadn''t even begun to dig into his connection to the Calderwall empire, nor had she tried to figure out if that''s who he was running from - she only knew the newer planetary lords by secondhand stories and reputation, but Earth''s Pathfinder Progenitor had a reputation of being someone you absolutely did not cross. She expected Reid still had more he hadn''t told her, but he was at his core a good man. Lycra was... well he was himself. She could practically still feel the warmth of his hug on her thigh.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Win hadn''t retreated back to the last bend for the final battle. She used the butt of the spear Reid made her as a stilt, with one arm bracing her against the wall. It let her see over some of the mounds, and gave her a decent view of the rear shelf. She bore witness to bits of Reid''s ferocious, rough style of combat. His tendency to overcommit and let his momentum carry him when it didn''t need to. His obtusely straightforward set of strikes, jumps, and moves. His undeniable resiliency, and his propensity to falter or fall to the ground whenever he suffered a minor interruption to his footing. His incredible power, and his inability for precision. She felt like she was watching a champion with the coordination of a child. But a champion was still a champion. He''d shown incredible force, and tanked the final bites from the last prince like he was built for it. The end came quickly after that.
You have defeated Ancient Deep Mole King - lvl 26. (+20-F xp) Quest Complete! Calculating final performance.
For the second time in recent hours - and what was also the second time in years - Win found herself with her mouth hanging agape. It was unbecoming - but understandable. Every mole until now had been G grade. She had her suspicions during the magic attacks that rained boulder sized rocks, but it was true. No matter how lethargic or old the thing may have seemed, an F grade beast was still an F grade. They were more durable and powerful than G grade beasts by an order of magnitude - that was just the way of things. A strong individual in G grade might be able to kill a strong G grade beast with a single strike to the head - but they''d struggle to do damage to something in F grade. When Win saw the mole king muster its last bit of pride to offer its resignation, she expected Reid to fail to damage it. Or struggle. He''d killed it in two blows. The raw power required for something like that was... it just didn''t make sense for someone still in G grade. And it was more power than he''d shown during much of the fighting he''d done with the smaller beasts. No matter how many secrets he shared, Reid continued to surprise her. He was still weak, in a larger scale. He might be for a while... but if he ever got free of this place... Her mind worked on plans and machinations she hadn''t entertained since her earliest years in the Warrens. Maybe he could get free of this impossible place. Then Reid could be a secret weapon, or a dominant force. He could shift balances of power just by being in a room - so long as he made it to the middle grades. And just how strong would he be then? Win''s brain turned to math. If Reid was still G grade - it meant he''d just gotten a massive amount of experience. The qualitative difference between G grade and F grade energies was, of course, the same as any other. It worked out to One F Grade Experience Point being worth Ten Million G grade XP. ( 1-F xp = 10,000,000-G xp ) So for the mole king, 20 F grade XP was equivalent to... Two-Hundred-Million G grade XP. Her time advancing through grades had come to a halt with the suppression collar long, long ago - but the feeling of joy and excitement when you earned points from a kill was a memory that never left her mind. Every scrap and piece of energy built like a tower made of your achievements, and it slowly grew. With major emphasis on slowly. No one received that many points all at once - maybe heroes in stories, but it just wasn''t a thing that happened. Two hundred million was enough to bring a person from level 1 straight to level 23. It was simply massive. Judging by Lycra''s reaction, at least one massive level jump had taken place. His eyes were alight with excitement and he danced back and forth across the tunnel. "Yah yah! Yah yah! Yah yah!" She let him continue for a few more seconds before her protective instincts took over. "Lycra!" The small, happy Gzlonbhalin stopped his dance and turned to her. "Congratulations on your levels. We will celebrate - but first, please do not touch your stat points for now." Those questioning yellow eyes were too damn endearing. Win could practically still feel his deep scarring and old broken bones that she''d repaired. How had anyone ever deigned to so badly mistreat this tiny spark of light? "I know the excitement you feel - but we should talk through what you want out of your stats and skills. The choices you make in G grade set the foundation for everything else, and so we must choose thoughtfully. I will help you figure things out. But let us make choices on where to invest with the future in mind." His head bobbed eagerly at her words. "Now, come, we should hurry and tell Reid the same so he doesn''t cause himself trouble. He will have fewer points to distribute than you, but I should share my knowledge with you both." She gestured for Lycra to climb on her back. He paused, and stared the way he did when deciding whether or not to share information. So, there''s another secret there. Win mused. If he wasn''t ready to share it, he didn''t need to. "Come on - no matter what, we should go check on Reid." Lycra nodded, and jumped up.
^+ Nyx +^ The new energy influx was absolutely massive - and a second wave was coming. It would be enough to send Reid straight into F grade - well before he was ready. She worked furiously to stop that from happening. Stalling the system''s calculations was not an easy thing to do. She''d flooded it with new data, or repackaged data, as requests to include in the calculations for the quest rewards. It was a haphazard attempt to slow things down - and it was beginning to reject her attempts at submitting new data. Reid was about to make the greatest possible mistake of his life. If he solidified himself now, going from G to F, he would create peaks and valleys in his potential for future power. His weak stats were so laughably low. Nyx understood why - the man had never even gone through the tutorial''s educational stage. He was a babe in the woods - except for his ability to sluggishly smash through his enemies. Nyx threw more of herself into the task - the real task - of circumventing the normal energy applications for this reward and sending them instead into herself. If she got this right, she could both save Reid a massive mistake, and reconstitute herself properly. Since the revival, she''d been stuck as a semi-formed thing. Not enough of herself to be able to truly ''live'' and interact with Reid - but not so far gone that she was willing to give up and slip away. She''d hung on, waiting and hoping for Reid to grow in power that she could minutely siphon away to save herself. She didn''t need to wait long - and now she was rushed. The first wave of energy was enough for her to become Nyx again, and interact with Reid''s soulscape properly - what little he had formed so far. It also gave her back enough full awareness to realize that her reconstitution would be conditional. She would be restricted down to Reid''s level of power and understanding. Restricted until his power grew to match what hers had once been. Limited in her interactions with him, and with the universe at large. Capped in her ability to share knowledge and understanding. Reduced and suppressed in so many ways. But even contained, Nyx was the salvation Reid and his growing pack of comrades didn''t know they needed. Intricate shapes and strands sorted themselves within Reid''s ethereal self. They wound into another masterwork, and set forth her unassailable place. Her future home. Her life. She hadn''t finished her final review when the new deluge of energy flowed in. But the masterwork held, and flashed with golden yellow light. CH 89: Loot and Accolades Note for audio-only readers - this chapter is very heavy on stats, descriptions, and numbers. You may wish to forgo TTS and read this one with your eyes, if possible.
Reid panted. The King''s head, even offered to him, had taken two fully-empowered blows to sever. It racked Reid''s body and left him feeling more winded and spent than he had the entire time in the den. He The System''s chimes felt out of place next to the solemn scene. Between the three others in the final Den and the king itself, Reid''s experience gains were massive.
You have defeated Ancient Deep Mole King - lvl 26. (+200,000,000 xp) Experience: 157,029,200 / 209,715,200 -> 357,429,200 / 419,430,400 Level: 23 -> 24 Control: 125 -> 130 Quest Complete! Calculating final performance.
As soon as he received the level gain, a new priority message jumped to the front of his view.
NOTICE: Note Unlocked - Priority Note to Self: Reid, if you''re reading this, you''ve managed to get to level 24. Good work, really. Now, I need to ask you to slow or stop your progress - at least if I''m not yet awake. If you jump into F grade without thinking things through and preparing, you''ll be setting yourself up for future failure. As in, can''t-reunite-with-Sara-because-I-have-issues kind of failure. It all stems from your distribution of Stats. Go into F with your perception, intelligence, and dexterity as low as they are, and you''ll essentially cripple yourself. I... don''t have a great analogy for it. I''ll try to think of one. I know you like those. All-god, writing these is getting weird. Do you know I''ve already written 40 of these things? Except this might be the second note you see. Sorry. Having one side of a conversation for this long is making me weird. Plus we''re on unequal footing in this relationship. I''ve had hundreds of years to watch your memories, and you don''t know much of anything about me. We''ll fix that when you wake up, if you want. I''d like for us to get along - but I understand if you have reservations. Aaand now I''m rambling. Right. Balance yourself out before you kill anything else. Get your Dex, Int, and Per to at least half of your Constitution and Power stats, and you should be okay. Bringing them all to your current maximum would be better. But don''t allow yourself to enter F with anything less. If it''s unavoidable and I''m awake, I might be able to help re-route things and save you from making the mistake. Just don''t hate me for messing with your energy and levels. Okay. Good luck, and again - good work. OH! Don''t be part of a group that kills anything in F-grade. Now that you''re this close it''ll put you over into F yourself. -Nyx
Reid read and re-read Nyx''s note. There was so much surety, but also longing and uncertainty contained in the words. Reid definitely still had issues with what the Shackle had caused - or may have caused to happen to him. But if Nyx was different, he would try to forge a friendship... or whatever kind of relationship was possible. It could just be that they would forever end up as two entities that interacted only through notes and memories. In the continued spirit of getting Nyx''s messages too late, Reid had already killed the mole king - an F grade creature. It took him up and through the majority of level 24, and he was now ''only'' 60 million points from reaching level 25. If there were additional XP rewards after the calculations finished, Reid might be screwed. He crossed his fingers and hoped it wouldn''t send him over the edge. Seconds ticked by. Win was making her way to the shelf, with Lycra riding on her shoulders. Then an overlapping series of chimes blasted.
Quest Performance Calculations Complete! Final Performance: Kill the Mole King 1 / 1 Kill the Mole Princes 5 / 5 Kill Moles 23 / 23 Time Remaining: 1d 10h 49m 02s Secret Challenge Completed: Time Limited You finished the quest within the proposed time limit! Bonus Experience awarded for completing secret challenge Bonus Experience awarded for taking no quest losses - Secret Challenge Reward Bestowed - Skill: Identify [basic] - Secret Challenge Reward Bestowed - Equipment: Storage Ring - Secret Challenge Reward Bestowed - Equipment: King''s Fang - New Achievements Earned! - Pesticide (Earned for eradicating a pest-class species from a local area) - Regicide (Earned for killing a King) - Mercy Kill (Earned for killing a creature that wanted you to end its life!) - Challenger (Earned for completing a quest on the highest possible difficulty) - Lone Agent (Earned for completing a secret challenge with more than 90% contribution) - Magnanimous Leader (Earned for completing all quest objectives by yourself and carrying other party members to victory) - Grade Jumper (Earned for defeating an F grade entity while still in G grade) WARNING! Bonus Experience Manually Reprovisioned. Calculating adjustment. Final Bonus Experience Awarded: 50,000,000 xp Accelerated Growth Experience Awarded: +4,000,000 xp Accelerated Growth Skill Awarded: Darkvision [Common]
"Jesus, that''s a lot." Reid had so many new things to read about, he didn''t know where to start. Or maybe he did. The ''reprovisioned'' bit of notification text made him think that Nyx was awake - and doing exactly what they said they would. "Hello?" Reid questioned aloud. There was no answer. "Did you do that? Can you hear me?" He didn''t get a response. Maybe it had been something Nyx put in place before, like a safety. Reid instead focused to bring up his stats. There was much to review.
STATUS Name: Ser Reid Oliver Calderwall Affiliation: "Earth" Race: Human Grade: G Level: 24 Health: 573 / 625 Experience: 357,429,200 -> 411,429,200 / 419,430,400 STATS: Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.Constitution: 62.5 Dexterity: 2 Intelligence: 6 Perception: 11 Power: 62.5 Control: 130 Stat Upgrade Points: ERROR SKILLS: Strengthening [Basic] Identify [Basic] Hardening [Common] Darkvision [Common] Calcification [Uncommon] Accelerated Growth [Undefined] (.08) Skill Upgrade Points: ERROR ENHANCEMENTS: Osteal Smithing Journeyman (Calcification) RESISTANCES: Substances - Sedatives Active Skill Effects - All ACCOLADES: Titles: [Honorary Knight] Achievements: [Pesticide, Regicide, Mercy Kill, Challenger, Lone Agent, Magnanimous Leader, Grade Jumper] RESTRICTED: ???: UNAVAILABLE
411 million. Reid was now just eight million xp away from reaching F grade. Even after part of the bonus was redirected, the Accelerated Growth skill alone had been responsible for giving him 4 million points - which meant it worked like a percentage multiplier for experience. For every 100 points he earned himself, it would just... give him another 8. Not quite as neat as Sara''s doubling - but it could be, in time. He just needed to keep getting more achievements. He focused in on those next.
Pesticide Deal 15% more damage against pest class species. Regicide Any negative active or passive effects of other being''s Titles have a lessened effect on you. Take reduced damage from Titled beings. Mercy Kill Doubles damage and skill effectiveness against creatures that wish for you to kill them. Challenger When you complete future challenge areas or event quests, rewards are increased. Lone Agent Improves bodily efficiency. Magnanimous Leader Companions in your party, empire, or any other formal group are granted performance bonuses based on your actions. Grade Jumper Deal 10% more damage against entities at least one grade above your own.
While he wasn''t entirely certain what everything meant, all of the Achievements he''d gotten seemed to come with their own great effects, completely separate from the multiplier they gave his experience. Pesticide and Grade Jumper were straightforward. Regicide seemed simple enough - it was similar to a resistance. Mercy Kill was... well, a bit useless. Challenging would be a self-propelling boon stacked on top of the other increases Reid was getting. Lone Agent... Reid wasn''t sure. Maybe he wouldn''t need to eat and defecate as much. Then Magnanimous Leader, as the final one, probably meant something similar to the shared xp Lycra and Win were getting with him during the challenge dungeon. And these were just from the first gate he''d gone through. How many more were just... out there, waiting to be completed? Reid took a breath, and continued into his new skills.
Identify [basic] Allows the user to discern basic information about objects and non-sapient lifeforms. Raise the skill''s rarity to properly identify sapient lifeforms. Advanced practitioners may glean more information on objects and individuals higher leveled than themselves. Highly advanced practitioners may discover more. Darkvision [common] Allows the user to see their immediate surroundings in dark or dimly lit areas with more acuity. Advanced practitioners may see further in dim light or darkness as if it were brightly light. Highly Advanced practitioners may see through skill-crafted or magical darkness.
Well, Reid now had access to Marlene''s skill. He knew a bit of what to expect based on the tests Sara had done with all of them, but he figured he''d get plenty of use out of it himself. His favorite old shows always had that one as a staple, after all. Darkvision, though, was even more intriguing. Seeing in the dark was a damn important skill to have - and not at all because the idea of the unknown or unseeable gave Reid the creeps. Not at all. The last line was what really caught his attention. It meant there were darkness or dark magic style powers that could normally restrict one''s sight. If Reid was able to get enough understanding of his new skill, it would be another kind of enemy magic he wouldn''t need to worry about. Both would be things he''d be able to try in the cavern and tunnels - and Identify was something he could use right now. Reid took another breath. The last two things for him to review were the pieces of equipment that had seemed to pop into existence in front of him. He started with the weapon.
King''s Fang [F] Identified. A short sword made from the fang of the Ancient Mole King. While the weapon is sturdy, it suffers the effects of the mole''s long life.
The king¡¯s fang was a bit of a letdown. It was a tiny curved sword with a handle so small Reid could barely grip it. The blade itself looked worn, chipped, and just downright bad. When Reid compared it to Requiem, his crafted item was superior to the system''s created one. Though - it did seem like something he could give to Lycra. He would have to see how it compared to the current short sword his friend held. Reid had saved the best for last.
Storage Ring [F] Identified. A personal subspace device, capable of storing 25 separate stacks of limited materials. Automatically locked to user. Visibility automatically set to private. Capacity used: [0/25]
He turned the simple looking silver band in his bare palm. The weight of it alone felt... good. Reid slid the thing onto his left ring finger, and took a moment to himself. Growth and fighting and challenge would bring him back to his family, he knew. And while this ring wasn''t his wedding band, having something there on his hand made Reid feel a sense of comfort he didn''t realize he was missing. As he looked at it, Reid noticed his skin had changed significantly. The color was a deep pink, nearly turning purple, and seemed to have a light sheen to it. Win''s pills were working very well - and quickly. Lycra''s initial wish to get Reid to paint himself colors and change his name was slowly becoming a reality. He focused on the ring, and felt the pull of possibility from it. It was like looking at - and feeling - a 5x5 cube organizer stuffed into space that didn''t actually exist. Reid knelt down, and touched his gauntlets with his left hand, then willed them into one of the empty spaces. He felt a minor amount of energy flow from himself into the ring - and a message appeared. Storing [Bone Greaves] (30s... 29... 28) The timer ticked down for half a minute, then the greaves disappeared from the ground. They reappeared inside of the 5x5 organizer, and Reid could both see and feel them in that subspace. He put his hands out, palms up, focused on their box, and pulled. Retrieving [Bone Greaves] (30s... 29... 28) His armor reappeared in his waiting hands. This was incredible. There was magic in the universe, sure - but the ability to carry things in storage like this was just cool. It didn''t even matter that it took 30 seconds and a little bit of energy to move things into and out of the subspace. Reid could keep his armor and Requiem and food and so many other things with him, without needing to strap everything to his back, or wear it on himself directly. "Reid!" Lycra''s shout was loud, excited, and undulated as his feet hit the ground. He ran up to the shelf, and climbed onto the thing. His armor and weapons were nowhere to be seen, but he was still wearing the backpack. "Win and I both got the Identify skill, and storage rings!" He was happy to hear the two of them had received similar awards from the quest and the secret challenge. While Reid had been deep in contemplation about all his new skills and achievements and the note from Nyx, Lycra had been fully focused on his storage ring. He''d already confirmed with Win that "private visibility" meant only the owner could see the device, even though Win could feel the weight of the thing when Lycra had taken his off and dropped it in her hand. They definitely couldn''t use each other''s rings, and Identify didn''t offer any information on a ring that wasn''t your own - as if the rings weren''t there at all. Lycra was all-too-eager to show that he''d figured out armor could be stored as a set to only take up a single storage slot, and that he''d gained some understanding of how to move the summoning location around his own body. With it, Lycra was able to summon his armor onto his body directly. The bone boots ended up on the wrong feet, but it was impressive and quick work. His next trick was to put his hand in a gripping pose and then he summoned his short sword into it. Then he shared he''d already confirmed you could take only one part of a set or stack out by itself - and that you had to physically (or indirectly) touch what you were trying to store for the full 30 seconds or it wouldn''t work. Reid tried to summon a gauntlet onto his hand like he was already wearing it, and failed. The armor fell to the cavern floor with a clatter. He attempted the same thing with the other hand - only for the armor to bounce off the top of his fingers and fall a few feet away. He''d work at it. CH 90: Unbelievable When she made it to the shelf, Win immediately healed Reid''s wounds, then let Lycra prattle on about the storage ring''s capabilities for minutes. More was discussed, in detail, about being able to stack similar items like rations and waters into a single slot - but that the moles were too large to store without cutting them up. She didn''t interrupt him until she let out a pained cry minutes later - right as Reid felt a pinprick on his ethereal self. "Ow, fuck! Reid! Are you serious?" Reid couldn''t hold back a smile. "You tried to use your shiny new skill on me, didn''t you?" Win held a frown. "And it should''ve worked, even with the suppression collar. Reid - you are G grade. How in all the cosmos are you able to aggressively resist identify? That isn''t even supposed to be possible at your level." "Resistance to all active skills - it works on just about everything. Lessens stuff that''s really powerful, I guess." Win took a deep breath and set her voice into a calm tone. "Resistance to all active skills. Well. Thank you for defeating all the moles and completing this challenge - and for carrying us forward to the rewards. With the moles gone, we can go back to mining in peace." She put a hand on her forehead and sighed. "But Reid - don''t tell anyone that you have a storage ring, or ''resistance to all skills''. Don''t tell them you somehow took down an F grade creature in two blows, and - really..." She rubbed her eyebrow. "You''re entirely too fantastical. Play it safe, and do not share anything about yourself with anyone. Hell, you already shared too much with me. Hold all details about yourself and what you can do tight to your chest." Reid let the words sink in for a moment. Win was now the third person - Reid wasn''t sure if Nyx was technically a person, but it felt rude not to count her - that advocated for him to keep himself as secret as possible. But there were some things he simply couldn''t hide. "What about my osteomancy? I have to use my armor and Requiem when I fight." Win tilted her head in thought. "Osteomancy is well known. Your level of crafting is certainly above average, though." She thought for a moment. "Your mace is bound, correct? I can''t identify it, so I don''t know whether you need to hide its details." "Yep - Bound, you already saw me summon it with the recall trait, and it has growth and self repair. It''s Legendary and F rank. Do I need to hide any of that?" Win shook a hand. "Technically no, but you shouldn''t share it if you don''t have to. Others may covet your mace even as a bound weapon. It is exceedingly rare to create a legendary item, even for master crafters. Three traits is a somewhat common, if hard achievement. Having four in one weapon has happened, so there''s a precedent. Traits vary, but I have heard of all of those save for Recall." She looked up at the ceiling of the cave. "There are similar known traits that involve recreating a weapon, though - so using that near other people should be fine. The F rank portion is not unheard of either - many who get close to the peak of one grade can then craft into the next with enough time, focus, and energy. It''s why smiths can be so dangerous and powerful, and also why those employed by strong powers are rarely let out of their forges." Her gaze settled back on him, full of concern. "Someone powerful learns what you made, and they might just try to kidnap you to force you to forge until you craft another one." Reid was too curious to stop himself from asking the obvious question. "So, theoretically, if I already made a second Legendary F rank weapon, and I did both of them at level 12....?" Win looked Reid up and down. Her nose twitched and crinkled, then she shook her head. "Then you would absolutely want to keep such an outlandish, impossible thing to yourself." # The three of them followed their conversation with food, water, and rest. Despite the removal of fatigue from Win''s skill, they were all well overdue for some actual sleep. Reid was tempted to work on himself and get the extra points he could now make in Power and Constitution - but refrained. Win still didn''t know he was able to raise points on his own - though she would probably find out eventually. He wasn''t worried about revealing another secret to her - but was concerned about Nyx''s warning. If he really needed to focus on the lower point stats, pushing himself to raise power and constitution instead could be detrimental. He just wished he could ask Nyx questions about... everything. He awoke again while Lycra and Win were both still sound asleep, but felt well rested. With nothing better to do, Reid started checking out the trash heaps on the main cavern floor. When the voice came, it was... substantial. Like it was sound pulled out from the dark, husky and wise and just a bit sweet. "Hello, Reid." The piece of wood Reid was using to root through the trash pile fell out of his hand. The shock lasted for another few seconds before he responded. "...Nyx?" "Yes! Oh my - that''s the first time someone else has said my real name in so long. Thank you. I wanted to let you have your rest, and the talk with your friends, but I''ve been awake since your whole massive list of achievements rolled in. You''re a real powerhouse, you know. Just incredible stuff. Now, I know it would be more polite to spend time on introductions, but you read the note - so you know I have critical information I need to share, now, in case something goes wrong." The ''voice'' in his head from Nyx was in the same sort of ''place'' that the shackle had been, but it was... less grating. Every word from Nyx felt like a fountain of knowledge where he couldn''t see over the side. And there was so much he wanted to know. "Uhhh - nice to meet you, I think? I have so many questions. About Sara and Susan, mostly. But also what''s going on with my cancer. And how you revived me. And what you are - if... if that''s an alright question. And how you''re related to the shackle. And how-" "Fewer questions at once, please. I''m still getting used to my new existence here. I already know you want me to start with Sara and Susan. I love your love for them. Sara is definitely okay - and I know that because she told you. Or, well, us. And that''s also how I know Susan is alright, or at least she was the last time Sara wrote about her."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Reid was practically jumping. "How? When? What did she write? Can I read it?" "How is your daughter is damn smart, just like you always thought she was. And she did it for a while. But let''s table you reading those for now - woah, hang on, please let me finish." Reid had bristled and grown angry at not getting to see Sara''s writing, but he''d only been thinking about impatiently interrupting - he hadn''t even done it yet. The shackle had read his thoughts, and it was one of the most intrusive things about that entire relationship. "We will get you all set up for that once the big ticket stuff is done. Back to things I need to tell you. I have... limitations, and part of that is how much I can directly share with you, and the ways I do that - like this talking. I am - or was - a person like you. Now I''m a... soul creature, I guess. It''s an odd thing. I was also the shackle - or, rather, I was part of it that the shackle itself was programmed not to recognize or allow to grow. Think of the shackle like a computer virus. Oh! Or cordyceps. It was programmed to take over an insect and make it do stuff, and I was the actual insect that was supposed to be in control, but wasn''t." "That''s... surprisingly easy to follow. It gives me more questions, but okay. Could... could you tell me about yourself? I''d like to know who it is that''s in my head." "You having questions is fine. I''m giving you oversimplified explanations. So, here''s another one. I used to be a scholar, a researcher, and a visionary - but almost everything else about me would reference things you don''t have context for. We can have time for answers and full talks eventually. Just know that I have enemies the same way you do. You don''t want to alert the Collective to your existence, or mine. The same way you don''t want Blasdej to know you''re alive. That Lycra really is a smart little oyster. I think you would''ve looked good in a wig. Anyway, back on topic. There''s a lot that happened within you that allowed the revival to work - what I can say for now is that I reworked your pathways and energy pool, which has made you more powerful with mana, as you know - and then I had to... intrinsically connect myself to you so the system would recognize you as being alive before you actually were, then I used the energy to get you back - like jumpstarting a car battery." Her speech came at an odd tempo. Sometimes she barely paused between sentences - sometimes there was a full second between words, like she was carefully considering the perfect vocabulary to use. "And thank you again, for that. I really don''t know how to react to being... revived. But what does intrinsically connected mean?" "Future talk. For now, just know it lets me talk to the system on your behalf - and now that I''ve done it, I know of a few tricks I can perform in the future. Get to a beacon, any beacon, and I can act as a mediator or arbitrator for you and your friends, to review and change their contracts to give them more of their points back. Heck, as long as you''re still in G grade I bet I could get you into a tutorial. I could even send Lycra with you. Win is a no go on tutorials, though - too powerful. I have to say, she is a sly girl. I like her more than I anticipated. Expected her to be a bit more priss, you know?" "Anyway, I can help your friends, the same way I helped you - the redirecting points that would''ve put you into F grade - and I managed to influence the award to get you darkvision, because I knew you wanted it. Influenced, not instructed. I can''t tell it exactly what to give you." Reid knew there was a big discrepancy between the normal contracts that gave out 3 points per level and the 5 he was getting shoved into control. If Lycra was losing out on 2 points per level, he''d be down 50 stat points by the time he hit F grade. Nyx was offering to give Lycra those 50 points, plus more. He had no idea how many points that could unlock for Win. If Nyx could remove those barriers, Reid could help his friends grow stronger. They could all get powerful enough to not have to worry about outside forces. "Well, that all sounds pretty freaking great. Especially influencing what skills I get. And Sara had a good contract, but nobody else at Sanctuary did. If you can make sure Lycra and Win''s are as good as they can be, I''d be really grateful. More than I am already, I guess. That would turn out phenomenally well." "Exactly. Now, cancer. I''m sorry but blunt is the best way to communicate this. You still have it, Reid. It is... part of you, at your core. And it isn''t going away, but it also isn''t growing. You don''t have the background for me to explain it all properly, but... maybe a treadmill? Oh, more like going the wrong way on a people-mover at an airport. So, your cancer is still there, it just hasn''t ''caught up'' to you, so to speak. As long as you keep progressing faster than the people mover, you''ll stay ahead of things and it won''t catch up to you and you won''t have to worry about it. But if you stay stagnant for too long, you''ll start to go backwards, and eventually it becomes a problem again. You''ll know you really need to hustle and progress if you start feeling the headaches and nausea again." His heart dropped. "Can I get rid of it?" "That''s a good question. Not now, at least. It''s as much a part of you as your beating heart, which itself is really... complicated. I''m sorry I don''t have better news or more I can explain. I know how much all of that hurts you, and that you were hoping for miracles. Maybe eventually we can cure it, but not now." Reid sat with his thoughts for a moment. It wasn''t exactly new information, but it gave him an idea of what it would take for the cancer to actually hurt him again. But it was confirmation that it was there, waiting in the wings, just ready to screw up his life. He hated it, hanging over him like a guillotine. Hadn''t he already suffered enough? What if he didn''t advance fast enough now? What would happen if he wasn''t quick enough to make it back to Sara and Susan? What if he just couldn''t fight hard enough? "Okay Reid, none of that. I can''t read your mind, per se, but I can feel how you''re feeling a bit." Reid bristled. The shackle''s mind reading was incredibly invasive. "Hey, I tried to keep out of mind reading territory entirely, but couldn''t avoid some of it. I''m a big believer in autonomy and privacy and alone time. But that negativity you feel isn''t going to help you. I know you''re strong as shit and you''re driven, so you are going to make it through this." She let the words hang in the air. "Now, warnings are done, basic questions are done. I have a proposition for you on what we do next, while I have energy. You let me teach you how to build up your dump stats - and why that''s important, and then you''ll be able to grow yourself up until you can progress into F safely. I can also help your friends get stronger with the same sort of instruction - but to do that effectively, you need to tell them I exist. Lycra will probably be fine following instruction without that knowledge, but Win would be harder to convince." Reid blanched. Introducing the shackle or telling others about it had not gone great. And Win probably already thought he was crazy. "I think I have ways to convince both of them, but I''ll need you to do the talking for me." Silence stretched for a moment, and her voice came back warmer and empathetic. "And if you''re not up for it, that''s okay, too. I''ve had decades to prepare what to say to you when I finally woke up - but I know this is all new and a bit crazy for you to deal with. I''d let you have more time to accommodate if we could afford it." Reid ground his teeth. This was exactly what he wanted. Instruction on improving himself. Ways to help his friends. It was barely a choice. He didn''t just want to do whatever it took to help himself, Lycra, and Win - he needed to. "You swear you can help both all of us, with contracts, and with other things?" "I can, and I will." Reid took a deep breath through his nose, and marched back towards the shelf. "Then let''s get this over with." CH 91: Friends and Lessons Lycra''s yellow eyes shone with excitement. Win had energy in her hands as she moved them both around Reid''s skull. "There''s... nothing wrong? That doesn''t make sense, unless - maybe you''re being affected by a skill I can''t sense with the suppression collar? But, no - there''s nothing that I know of that wouldn''t at least have..." Her face was still filled with worry as she continued talking to herself. "I told you, I''m fine - well, there''s the ca-... never mind. I''m fine." The start of the explanation had gone about as poorly as Reid expected. Lycra immediately believed him - and Win believed he was suffering some sort of mental episode or the effects of someone else''s skill, and had spent quite a while searching for a cause. Her outright refusal to listen had slowly turned into receptiveness, so Nyx was starting to pour on her ''convincing arguments''. "Okay, now tell her she''s moving her energy like a Vhauxhilli Mongrel that''s never heard of Arinelea''s law." "Nyx says you''re moving your energy like a Vhauxhilli Mongrel that''s never heard of Arinelea''s law." Win gave him a defensive look. "It''s Arinela''s Law - but how the hell would you possibly know advanced mana application theory? And I''ll have you know I can move energy perfectly fine when I''m not wearing a suppression collar." Her face softened, and her eyes were conflicted as she gave Reid another once-over. "This... really isn''t a trick, is it?" Reid held up a finger to wait for Nyx''s reply. "Tell her I graduated an opal robe at Zoenuth, and she shouldn''t correct her elders. I was a student when Arinelea proved her thesis, I know damn well what my upperclasswoman did and how to say her damn name. Then tell her that she''s a disgrace to her lineage if a little collar can make her forget her basics. And tell her the only apparent thing I can sense about her is her air of laziness. Make sure you do it word for word." Reid repeated the line. Win looked confused, offended, then deep in contemplation - still concerned, but considering what it meant if his story was legitimate. They''d left the details of how exactly it had happened vague, but Win did know Reid was subjected to something that left him incapacitated for a long time, and Nyx had helped to ''wake him up'' - but also got ''stuck'' to him in the process of doing so. Her mouth twitched as she soundlessly talked through the possibilities to herself. When she lifted her gaze, Win''s eyes were serious. "You knew next to nothing about the universe when we all laid down to sleep. Now, you are rattling off high university knowledge like you walked the halls. I know you''re not trying to deceive me yourself - and I would prefer for you to be fantastical than crazy, Reid -" She took in a long breath, "so I am going to trust you." She stared at him for a moment, then nodded and let herself fall into a seated position, then her eyes went to the top of the cavern. "An ancient wizard''s soul trapped in your own ethereal space is... Mhm. I am lost for words." Reid put a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. Now that I have both of you believing me, we can finally get started." He took a few steps away, then smiled. The big talk had gone fairly well, all things considered. Win might still have some reservations, or would be looking for signs of mental tampering for a little while - but he had buy-in from both of them. That meant he could start the next phase, where Nyx would have receptive minds for her instructions and hopefully they''d all be able to grow stronger together. "Our first step is to get comfortable and get settled here. We only have enough ration bars and bottled water to last us the next two weeks, but what we all have to do is going to take longer than that. Which means, we need to find food, water, and places to sleep that aren''t so haphazard. There''s a few spots i think we can collect water in here, we can dress the moles in this den and down the tunnel for extra food, and there are enough intact things in the trash piles that we should be able to build some basic shelters for ourselves to stay comfortable." Lycra was all eager smiles. Win had gone from concerned to curious. "How long are you trying to stay down here?" Reid grinned. "However long it takes the three of us to learn - and grow." # Dressing the moles had been surprisingly easy work - at least for everything but the king. That one was difficult to butcher and slow to cook because of its innate toughness. It was an interesting bit of knowledge around ranks and grades - the meat and bodies of different grades contained different levels of nutrients. Eating one king mole steak was the same as wolfing down multiple G grade ones. He hadn''t considered that food requirements meant rations for G grade wouldn''t be the same as rations for F. Reid realized he''d already seen this at play, with the rations on Thad''s ship. The only way it made sense for the portion sizes to have been so small was if more nutrients were packed into the smaller space. He also guessed that what he needed to consume would raise with grade, just like the nutrients themselves. That meant he would need to cycle any stockpiled resources every time he ranked up. They''d ended up cooking nearly all the moles right away, because the storage rings they had were capable of ''preserving'' the cooked meat. Nyx and Win both offered explanations on how the subspace the rings were connected to was temporally dilated but limited by overall energy contained within objects. Reid only understood that time pretty much didn''t pass inside storage. Reid could keep the meat in there, fresh or cooked, for decades before it would cool down or go bad. Of all his gains, Reid considered going from pocket jerky to ''freshly'' grilled mole steaks one of the largest leaps. He took out another piece, and tore into it. The table and chairs he sat at were a mismatch of salvaged, mostly-intact pieces of furniture that also included bedding and some portable cookware they''d turned into a little ''camp''. The parties that had ventured down and been killed in this cave were not all prisoners, and some items had been of high enough quality that time had not yet deteriorated them away. Each of their trio had found a few valuable baubles in necklaces and rings that were now safely socked away in their storage. There was metallic armor, but it was inferior to Reid''s bone pieces - as were the weapons. They took and distributed both anyway, with the intention to sell them whenever they were above ground again. Win said hers would come in handy if other threats presented themselves to the miners. Reid disliked her continued expectation that she wouldn''t - or couldn''t - get free, but he respected her privacy and refused to pry.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. His favorite find so far was a chest of F-grade clothing that had survived almost entirely intact throughout the years. There were some thin spots and fading where dyes had aged, but he and the others were in fabric that wasn''t a jumpsuit. He even found a set of robes that fit him, with a hood to cover his head. His second favorite find was soap. There was a small pool of water in an alcove down the side of the cavern, fed by some source above, with a small hole that drained further down. They''d all washed themselves and their garments off in the pool - and replenished their liquid supplies from its source - but soap was a game changer. He''d definitely started taking the shower facilities in the main cavern for granted. Nyx and Win were both incredibly interested in the book piles, and Win had spent much of her foraging time searching through for any legible slip of paper. They''d only found a handful. Half a dozen pieces of hearty parchment were rolled and sealed - and Win brought them to the group rather than simply claim them for herself. They were promissory notes of some kind, which meant they could be turned in for monetary value by whomever had them in hand. Neither Reid nor Lycra wanted to draw any attention to themselves by walking into a bank with long-lost money, and they eventually convinced Win to keep all of them for herself, despite her protests that she''d never be able to claim them. The other notable find was - of all things - a children''s book. One Lycra had practically begged for. ''Mana and Me - The Basics of Crystal Carving'' was about a young girl''s adventure in making small tools she could use to play with friends. It was intended to help schoolchildren identify the simplest formations and shapes that could be drawn onto or carved into mana crystals in order to allow them to have certain functions. Lycra''s excited, too-fast babbling on the subject conveyed to Reid that the shapes and ''runes'' were all about how the natural energy within the crystal was stored, organized, and allowed to exit the structure. It showed basic instructions for doing things like making a crystal into a flashlight, letting it draw off energy in the form of heat, using crystal for refrigeration, and a small engine one could make to move a model spaceship. Lycra had a pile of raw crystal he pulled out of the walls himself to practice what was in the book - and growing mounds of flashlights, hand warmers, and engines without models to sit in. He was enraptured by the simple contents of the work, and poured over every detail like it held the secrets of the universe. When they weren''t scavenging in trash, Nyx had Reid parrot instructions for Lycra and Win. Lycra was started on swordplay lessons and tips, and Win was made to write out a number of rules and laws that meant next to nothing to Reid, but she seemed to get something out of it. And then there were the... special instructions. Nyx had continually insisted Lycra was a ''smart little oyster'' during the swordplay lessons she''d started him off with, and was nearly as excited as he was for today''s learning. They''d had some issues at first in how much attention Reid paid to the detail in Nyx''s wording and explanations, and he expected some of the training time she''d parroted through him for the past few days was actually just done to get Reid to the point where he wouldn''t miss anything important once they got to the truly difficult portions. They''d reviewed the book Lycra received, checked out the child-sized engraving kit that was in the rear of the thing, and then quizzed him on his understanding and knowledge so far. Post-quiz, Lycra had graduated from ''smart little oyster'' to ''prodigy'' in Nyx''s eyes. She was in the middle of a long, drawn discussion on warnings and guidelines for etching. "Okay, she says that you need to be careful with the engine propulsion methods, because what''s in the storybook is a simplified version of things. It doesn''t account for the actual engine assembly itself, so the direct power it calls for doesn''t work at scale. And she wants you to be careful with the engine runes themselves." He traced on a piece of paper. "This shape - like an elongated egg - is very finicky. If your hand is shaky when you do the outline, it creates a reverberating reaction within the crystal that can cause problems. If the whole thing is shaky, crystals can actually explode. It''s good to make a break in the egg with four lines like this-" He sketched out what Nyx described, "If you think you might have reverb issues. That will allow things to de-escalate properly. Always do four - more or less will just ensure the thing causes a more violent reaction." Lycra''s teeth were visible as he furiously scribbled notes down in a journal with old, discolored pages. "Okay, next safety lessons - the light. Nyx says the formation can go wrong here and here. The first could give you an electric shock if you don''t properly flare the two connecting lines, and the second is the eyeball looking one. If you don''t make the corners proportional to the rest of the design, you could end up forcing the crystal to expend all of its energy violently, which would just blind everyone looking at the thing, or make an even worse shock." Lycra eagerly nodded along. "The warming etchings are more tricky. They''re normally very stable, but if you ever mistakenly re-use a warmer for different etchings, you can cause a volatile..." Lessons continued that day with his little friend until both of them had to go to sleep. Lycra''s journal was half full in notes and shorthand Reid didn''t recognize, but Nyx was confident she''d shared enough information to keep him busy for a good, long while. She''d even worked alongside Win to give instructions on how the wide-eyed student should distribute his available stat points. The following day, Reid and Win had to practically drag Lycra away from his crystal work just to eat. He spent every other moment practicing, pulling crystal out of the walls, or collecting loose ones off the ground. While Lycra worked on his etchings, Win received her focused instruction - on energy control. Win''s advanced lesson was less on theory, and more on practice. There was apparently a famously difficult proof of concept called the tree of knowledge, where someone had to use a large number of tiny, concentrated strands of mana to build a three-dimensional tree structure visible to the naked eye. Between the theory instruction and her current task, Win had changed her tutne and actually admitted that energy control was never her strongest area. She took her own notes and nodded eagerly at more references Reid didn''t understand - all while struggling and failing to create the simplest of roots on her tree of knowledge. Nyx claimed she''d already seen marked improvements in Win''s energy control after a single day of focused instruction, and left her with a bit of wisdom. "The tree of knowledge isn''t just a parlor trick, Winnie. You can do it well, or do it poorly. Roots require depth of knowledge and purpose - and if you seek perfection in your task, all further energy must flow through them to create the tree. This is why they must be so plentiful and thick. The bark and core of the tree should be made resilient, and powerful. Branches must reach for the sky as we reach for knowledge, and leaves must soak in information as their real counterparts would the light. If your tree is strong, outside magic will not topple it but nourish it, and its leaves will turn towards the greatest sources of knowledge in a room. That is the outcome you seek - not a trick, but a treasure. Proof of your aptitude and mastery. Practice, and keep going. I will check your progress when Reid has downtime." Win went off for her own self-guided improvement based on Nyx''s notes. Lycra cheered himself on when a freshly made flashlight was powerful enough to shine all the way to the far wall. His friends had their own work to complete, which meant Reid was finally alone to begin his own instruction. He tried to keep the childish eagerness out of his voice. There were so many things Nyx could teach him. "So what are we going to start with? Truths of the universe, or maybe a roadmap on how to get more powerful?" "Bah! That will come. We begin with your disguise." CH 92: Transformative Learning "You''re fully committing to the Vuxarinan disguise, correct?" "That''s the plan. I have Win''s medicine to make me look like them - and you''ve been reminding me on an hourly basis that I need to stay under the radar, so yeah. I think that''s a good way to make myself look like I''m not from Earth." "A good way - but not great. Winnie''s pills are a big help, but you won''t fully pass for Vuxarinan if you don''t make some adjustments. We can pretty easily spin a story on your lack of knowledge - like that you were abducted as a baby and never grew up on-planet. That happens more than you''d think. But - you''ll have to be as physically close to one of them as possible for the rest to work. This will be good body modification practice for you and it should be quick, so we''re going to do it before you get into the true work. Nothing else I show you is going to matter if you just get yourself caught because you''re recognizable. Plus, I can show you what you''ve been doing wrong." A bit of hope flared in Reid, focused on easier and less taxing self-improvement. "What have I done wrong? Are self-modifications not supposed to be painful?" "You''ve done a whole lot wrong - but pain is normal. Pain accompanies all self-modification. You don''t get to play around with your internals and not have any side effects. Now, I want you to focus inward, but still concentrate on my voice..." Nyx took Reid through interacting with his own body in ways that were similar to what he''d done before - only in more specific sequences. He had to work on small clusters of muscle or blood or skin or tissue, then move down the line, and back again. There were little things she had him change about the angle and force he used to apply energy to parts of himself, and further instruction on the duration and speed at which he allowed energy to move through him while he worked. He wasn''t opposed to tedious and repetitive work, but he was interested in understanding the reason behind it. "Why do we keep going back over the same areas? Why not just finish the work in one then move onto another?" Nyx let out something between a grunt and a sigh. "You remember how you felt when you were making Requiem and Queen''s Edge? How you needed to hold onto a bunch of different things at once, then activate them all at the same time?" Reid nodded. "Well, the reason you did that is because if you didn''t, it would''ve caused cascading failures throughout the weapons. Similarly, you''re doing as much in the right sequence as possible here so things don''t revert or fail. The same concept applies to skill use and growth - you could, technically, manually build a skill within you - like the one you saw for the Smith''s Recall. At the end of the day, most things boil down to a specific structure or style, timing, and sequence of energy use. How its applied and where the energy is directed works to make things happen that you want to happen. Right now, we''re using the same kind of theory, only applied to your body. We''re making you leaner and taller, changing a bit of your skeletal structure, and your muscles. But if I had you do, let''s say, all of the muscle work before the bone work was done, you''d first off feel quite a bit more pain than you do right now. You''d also end up with screwed up musculature that would deteriorate, not work, or that your body would consider inefficient and that it would naturally try to heal. We''re doing it like this so that when we''re finished, it''s going to be as solid and reliable as a well-built skill." Curiosity sated, Reid dove back into himself, and the work. Nyx''s advice was sound - there was still pain, but the burning and agonizing sensations were definitely lessened now that he jumped from one task to another. It also helped that he''d started getting used to torturing himself - as bad as that sounded. Bit by bit, Reid''s body was slowly and surely morphed and changed. None of his skills or stats were affected, but when Reid finished fourteen hours later, he looked like an entirely different person. He used a bit of non-rusted armor like a mirror. His eyes were mostly the same, but the rest of his face was different. His eyebrows were hairless, heavily protruding things, and his cheekbones were as visible and prominent as a model''s might be. His mouth was slightly wider, and his nose just a bit flat. Seven deep lines, indented all the way down to his skull, ran from the top of his nose to his hairline. From there, five went straight back and down the rear of his skull, while the other two curled back to stop at his ears. The ears were slightly smaller, and sat further down his face - close to a now-wider and sharper jaw. He was at least a foot taller than he''d been before, and his muscles and everything else were packed into a narrower frame. The change was prominent enough that it left Win and Lycra worrying the miners would think he was someone different entirely. The simple planned explanation was ''a growth spurt'' that occurred because Win''s medicine cured his disease. Hopefully, it would be enough to make things believable. Even if it didn''t convince, there wasn''t much trouble any of the other miners could cause about the change. Win had been surprisingly nonchalant about Reid doing the self-manipulation to change his appearance - but not because she considered it normal. She''d taken a new philosophy with Reid that boiled down to "no part of you is normal, so I just shouldn''t be surprised." Lycra was thoroughly impressed - and happy that Reid''s disguise would be even more effective. Reid stopped listening to his ramblings when the topic of wigs came up again. He wasn''t wearing a wig. One downside to the change, unfortunately, was his prison jumpsuit now fit worse than before. It clung in the wrong places, and was too short in the arms and the legs. He could continue wearing the F grade robes in the den, but once they went back to the processors and canteen, they''d be back in uniform. He was forced to rest for another half a day before Nyx would give him any further instruction. # The roll he sat on was thin enough that he could feel the rocks and uneven surface of the cavern floor. Water dripped slowly, somewhere out in the cavern, and he could just barely hear the scratch of Lycra''s tools against his latest creation. Nyx''s tone was professorial as she started the lessons Reid had really been waiting for. "Let''s talk about self-affixation. What you''re doing is unusual, in a universal sense, and there''s history as to why. I''ll keep things general so I don''t get restricted, but you need to understand this to know what kind of forces are truly at play. Awakening contracts like the ones your friends have may be ''longstanding tradition'' now, but that wasn''t always the case. The new ones are massively different from how contracts actually started. Those original contracts were more about access to the system itself, which was a way to help with personal growth."Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. "And it was personal and individual- self-affixation, where you have to improve yourself to raise your power or dexterity or intelligence, was the natural way of things. Today''s contracts are much more rigid. They allow for predestined levels of improvements based on earned energy - and the contract sponsor takes a portion of someone''s earned energy in exchange for letting them use the ''template'' of growth they created." "Rigid contracts allowed many people reach high levels and get to higher grades, so their popularity grew. Given the choice between difficult, self-guided improvement - or tried and true paths to power that aren''t likely to fail? They chose rigid contracts in droves. People ate it up. It was a guarantee of ''better'' lives for your children, or your family, or a ruler''s subjects. All too quickly, understanding of Self-Affixation methods ended up limited to only those cultures that were still practicing the harder ways to grow - or to historians and researchers." "The old standard became a fringe method, and then it was labeled as dangerous by those in power, who also happened to be new contract sponsors. Tomes on the subject were locked away and knowledge was further restricted until only select societies even practiced the methods anymore. In the eyes of a normal person, self-affixation is more boogeyman than reality. So the concept itself has become something of a lost art, and many hold a misguided contempt for the mere idea of someone building themselves up without a contract to guide them." "That is the innate bias you are going to encounter whenever someone learns you self-affix, and why even knowing that much is an issue for most. It''s one of the primary reasons you need to keep your ability to grow a secret as much as you can." Reid shifted, and picked a pebble out from under his leg. "How does my control stat come into play there? I''m the only self-affixer I know, and I''m also the only one with a control stat - so does control always come with self-affixation?" There was a long pause. "That question is off limits until we get stronger - don''t tell anyone you have the control stat, and definitely don''t tell them you can increase it with stat points. Your current understanding of it as a limit to your growth is directionally correct, so just stick with that." "Now, you need to know that without a rigid contract - which I''m just going to call a contract because that''s how you view it - most people would never make it into F grade. So F grade self affixers were somewhat rare. Those that got into F, though, often ran into later issues because they focused their efforts on only the areas they knew well. Doing that was a hinderance for them later down the line. What you do in G grade is a foundation for future growth, and the investments you make determine how easy it is to build yourself up later. Some real monsters in the cosmos can overcome a lack of foundation later down the line - but doing that takes a hell of a lot of work, time, and skill. It''s not something you want to worry about." "So, a contract forces you down a set path that''s easier to climb, even though it takes away some of your potential power to do it - but would a contract also stop you from making an unbalanced foundation?" "Yes - but only partially yes. Let''s say you spend your first 18 levels putting every point into two stats, and there''s a huge discrepancy between them. Your contract would then force your next gains to be chosen from the other three stats so they catch up with the two you overinvested in - keeping you upright like training wheels. Yes it would stop you from falling over, but those training wheels are fucking expensive. It''s much better to just do things yourself and not pay for the help, as long as you have some idea of what to do. If your stats were, say, 30, 12, 8, 11, 30? That distribution might get through a contract''s safety measures because they''re close enough to each other to be permissible. But that doesn''t take away the later issue of foundations... hm. There has to be a better way to describe this. Something I can get through to you without the restriction triggering." Reid sat in silence for a few minutes while Nyx contemplated. She often had long pauses in her speech, and Reid figured that her being ''alone'' for so long had warped her sense of time - and conversational flow. Reid picked dirt out of his fingernails. "Got it. Changing tires. You know how to change a tire. Break the nuts loose while the car is on the ground because it''s easier, but don''t actually loosen everything fully and pull the tire off till its in the air. Then you put the wheel back on, tighten down the lug nuts in a star pattern, put the car back on the ground, double check everything and you''re good to go." "Your stats are like putting the wheel back on. If you only put one lug nut on and tighten it all the way down, then try to drive the car, the wheel shakes or comes loose and you crash. But even if you tighten all the lug nuts, but you haven''t done it in the star pattern, you can still have a loose wheel that causes problems, or a crash, or you can get the wheel jammed at an angle and you have to use a pneumatic driver to tighten it the rest of the way down. Star pattern is best because you''re doing some tightening to the bottom, then the top right, then lower left, and so on going back and forth until things are properly secure." "The contracts people sign aren''t forcing them to do a good job or put the tire back on the right way. They''re just passing the requirement that the wheel doesn''t immediately fall off when someone tries to drive the car. Now that might hold up if you''re just going to the grocery store, but not if you''re going racing. And leviathan knows you need that speed. Getting into F grade is kind of like when you put the car back on the ground, so its even tougher to tighten things down properly or fix the issue after that point. Whew. Alright, no restriction, so I''m ending that analogy there - does it make sense now?" "More than before, yeah. So that''s why you had Lycra focus on an almost-equal distribution of stat points." "Right - yes. So our goals, now that you''ve finished your disguise and I''ve given you a bit of background on the history of self affixation, are to impart to you the tools that will let you balance yourself and your stats out before you run off and kill some other ancient powerful thing that sends you straight into F grade. And I mean it when I say impart the tools. You will not be capable of doing all of the work right away, and expecting anything like that is going to leave you disappointed. It''s an intensive process, and we are just going to get you reasonably balanced." For all she''d warned him and his friends of her limitations and things she couldn''t share, Nyx was an incredibly talented instructor - his immediate progress in body modification and her way of framing complex topics for him were proof. Now she was offering him the keys to the future. Reid felt an eager fire burning in his gut. He''d faced down monsters and death. Turned himself to stone for his family''s sake, and committed to a path of painful improvement. Nyx''s knowledge wasn''t just a next step - it was the game changer he needed. How could he possibly be intimidated by the difficulty of his tasks and time it took to complete them? Reid''s will was iron, and it would not be bent by such simple obstacles. He committed himself to a simple truth. Reid would wield the tools Nyx was going to give him until they made him raw. He would earn and fight for every iota of progress one offered, and then throw himself just as hard at the next. Sprinting, walking, or crawling, he would reach his goals. The idea took root deep within him, and hardened. He clenched his jaw. Reid was going to succeed. There was no alternative. "I''m ready. Let''s start." CH 93: Sand Reid moved from sitting to lying flat on the bedroll with his eyes closed, as instructed. Unlike his friends, Reid wasn''t supposed to take notes - but rather feel himself as thoroughly as possible throughout the lesson. A far distance away, Lycra was excitedly telling Win about something he''d created. Win was shouting encouragement back at him. Reid tuned them out as Nyx spoke. "You think of your stats in an... oversimplified manner. You see power as physical strength, constitution as physical toughness, perception as the performance of your senses. All of that is fundamentally incomplete." "Your stats are each deeper than you realize. Take power, for instance. You''ve been raising power focused on your physicality, and that''s gotten you to the limit of what you can accomplish on physical growth alone. But power isn''t only physicality - it''s potency. Potency of your body, yes, but also of your mana capacity. It is explosive might and explosive magicality. The description in your stats actually does a decent job of telling you what you''re dealing with."
Power: 62.5 A reflection of the pure potency of an individual. Power improves raw brawn, explosive might, and overall mana capacity. Raw brawn is recommended for porters, masons, enforcers, and knights. Explosive might is recommended for brutes and berserkers. Mana capacity is recommended for warmages, sage-wizards, and alchemists. May those of high power defend all from calamity.
"All of your efforts so far have focused on the knight and brute part of that description. That is not an issue now - but you are going to want mana capacity and current capacity for when you get to a higher grade. Now - your application of energy and power and growth aren''t wrong or bad, so much as they''re limited by your understanding of the universe. You''d get some of this in post-tutorial lessons, but there are aspects of each one of your stats that are metaphysical in nature." "Your sea of rage, as you think of it, is one of those aspects. You''ve been able to use that to pull explosive power into yourself and fight with it - which is really just using mana like steroids. When you pull power into yourself to fuel your muscles or your whole body, you are always pulling from the sea of rage. But - you have also surrendered to the sea of rage. You let that metaspace overtake you, and that meant that just a fragment of the whole you was driving your actions, while the rest of you was more or less dormant. I suggest not doing that again - it''s not good practice, and you already have some... anger issues." Reid resisted the urge to argue her point. "You also already experienced the drawback of pulling too much energy too quickly, and suffered the fatigue and bodily damage that pushing that much power through yourself actually does. It''s something any brute or berserker is familiar with. Your growth of regular strength has come from focusing on improving your physical body, like your muscles. There are shared ideas between everyday strength and explosive strength, in that both use your physical body as a medium to convey that power. One makes your body stronger regularly, and the other pulls from the metaphysical - your mana - to artificially strengthen you." "So, what''s missing from that equation? Metaphysical power itself. Picture a venn diagram. One circle is physical strength, and the other is metaphysical power. Where they overlap, you have the explosive rage you''ve used - where metaphysical power impacts your physical body. Now, fill in the blank. If you can train your physical body to increase your physical strength, then you can also...?" The truth felt so close and real and full of possibility that Reid''s mouth watered. He swallowed before answering. "I can train the metaphysical power and grow that, too?" "Exactly. Each of the 5 basic stats have a metaphysical component you can grow - in addition to the normal ones you''ve been trying to improve. And I''m not just talking about forcing growth through energy expenditure. You used to go to the gym. Played sports. Exercise exists for the physical and the metaphysical." Reid pictured himself lifting imaginary weights. "How does that work?" "It''s a bit different for each stat. Let''s talk about the one you know best - power. When you''re in your berserker state, in your sea of rage - you''ve done two things. You let yourself sit under the waves, and you pulled yourself up out of them and took some control over the area - like playing with the features you found there or moving around rocks." "What you haven''t attempted is making new things inside that space. Imagine and slowly will into existence a sandy beach, grain by grain, and you''ll have metaphysical power gains as surely as doing crunches would build up the muscles in your core." "I had no idea I had that much control over the sea of rage." "While I greatly enjoy your name for it, know that the nebulous academic term is metaspace. You know your metaspace for power, and you''ll get one for each of the other stats, eventually. All of your metaspaces together will come to f-..." Nyx''s voice went immediately hoarse, and disappeared for nearly a minute. She was coughing when he heard her again. "Well, all-god''s eggs that sucked. I hit a restriction, so we won''t be able to cover what I was going to say - but we''ll get back around to it - if we live long enough. Anyway, you have multiple metaspaces, and each one we''re going to work on helps a stat or is connected to another specific part of you. Even when you don''t actively improve the metaspace itself, improving your stats in any form gives the space more potential. Now, I want you to know what metaspace improvement feels like. Go into your sea of rage metaspace and keep listening to me." "I thought I was supposed to balance things out - shouldn''t I start with a low stat?" "This is a time-consuming, tough process. You might go a while without seeing any results, especially in the spaces you still need to put into form. So it''s going to be easier once you experience this kind of metaphysical growth for the first time, and you know this metaspace the best."The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Reid pushed down into himself and focused until he - the metaphysical he - was floating above the mostly-calm, familiar waters. "Hey, if this is a metaphysical space and all that, why is the water my anger, and how did I re-experience a memory there?" Reid called out. "Nope. Not touching that one. Far too advanced." Her voice, which Reid was used to hearing in a specific ''location'', instead came from beside him. He turned towards it, and startled. Nyx floated next to him. Her form was a mixture of inky black and varying shades of silver. She had a face with human eyes - and attributes he would expect from a deep sea octopus. Her head was elongated and sloped back farther than a person''s would. Her skin was an odd, muted silver color, and seemed to shift as she moved. A mouth that was more of a circle than a line opened when she spoke, but there was nothing but darkness within. She had no nose. Instead of hair, a few thick tentacles writhed and stretched on the back of her skull. Her neck was short, and led down to a body that was completely indistinct below the beginnings of two shoulders. Reid stared impolitely. "Oh, sweet corathinzie! I was hoping that might work. Hi." A tentacle on the back of her head rose and wriggled. Reid waved a hand and stumbled out a sentence. "Is this what you really look like?" "Almost entirely - or, well I did when I had a body. Metaphysical selves can differ a bit from physical ones. Look at your arms. Touch your face." Reid did, and was surprised to see he was no longer a shade of purple-pink. His thin arms were back to the musculature he''d gotten used to post-system, and his frame was as wide as it was supposed to be. All the changes from the bodywork Nyx had him do were gone. He looked back at Nyx, and she smiled. Or Reid thought it was a smile. Her mouth was still impossibly black. Her indistinct lower section fluttered a bit. "If I''m me - why is your body fuzzy like that? That can''t be what you actually look like, right?" "Restrictions. Keep growing in power, and I''ll get my hands back. But this is cool already. I''ve gotten to ''see'' you quite a bit. This is me!" Nyx did a twirl, and her tentacles reached out like a flowing dress. "Now, down to business. I want you to hold out your hand, and imagine you''re holding a grain of sand." After a bit more back and forth on the assignment, Reid did as he was told. He imagined sand in his hand. He kept imagining it for what felt like minutes, then his mind started to wander to more specific images. He thought about the sandy beach at Sanctuary, then further back. They''d gone out to the coastal beaches once as a family when Sara was still young. It was a trip Susan''s parents sent them on, and Reid remembered hauling the bucket full of plastic toys down close to the water for her to play with. Then he remembered Sara crying because another young girl had come over to play, and took a shovel out of the bucket to use. Sara hadn''t wanted to share, and Reid sat with her, waves tickling against his toes, as he explained how she could better express herself. He recalled talking her through sharing and why it was nice for people to do it - the felon, teaching his daughter how to be good and just. He recalled the warmth later, when Susan hugged him from behind, kissed him on the cheek and neck, and told him he was a good dad. He felt the tears in his eyes, the light of the sun on his skin, and the sand between his toes as if he were in the moment. It was such a strong memory, so vivid and close, and he longed to keep it with him, just a bit longer. The pain threatened to stop that. A feeling grew, like tiny shocks to his entire physical and metaphysical body. With it came an immense headache, then a sensation like something was digging into his abdomen with an ice cream scoop. He pushed back against the pain - and every sensation. It was his goddamn memory, and whatever was happening, it was his to re-experience for as long as he damn well pleased. The serenity was his to hold. He felt his physical body vibrate while his metaphysical eyes stayed clamped shut. The headache pounded against him like an army trying to break down a wall. It threated to pull his focus off of the beach. Reid held on. He was there, drying Sara''s eyes. His stomach threatened to pull itself straight out of his body and nearly caused him to vomit. He was there, watching his daughter take his advice to go make a friend. His brain felt sore under the mental assault, like all it wanted to do was rest. But he was there, and Susan was kissing his neck. It was his memory. His beach. Every inch of it. Massive amounts of energy drained from Reid''s mana pool - then something else was pulled and pushed as the odd icecream-scoop feeling intensified. The scooped stuff felt like the muddy bed of a river, and it was getting dredged up and excavated in bulk as if Reid were trying to make the space ready for cruise ships to dock there. He opened his metaphysical eyes to witness half a beach worth of sand pop into existence in front of him. Energy, pulled from his internal pool, swirled and congealed with the second, mud-like substance and condensed into a billion tiny fragments of that one, singular, solid memory. He looked left, and more of the beach''s sand popped into view with further pulls on his energy. He looked right, and the same phenomenon filled his vision with newly created, sandy shores. It kept going until Reid felt as if there were no more energy and mud to pull. He closed his eyes, then re-opened them. The sand was still there - topped by a plastic bucket full of colorful toys. It seemed to hold steady in the air - then crashed down into the water. "Holy shit, Reid!" Nyx shouted and spun in excitement amidst the noise of tons of falling sand. "That''s incredible! Beyond genius level stuff! Prodigious! This should go down in the historybooks! It''s the most productive fuckup I''ve ever seen!" Reid was incensed. The pain and discomfort were both still there, and now he was out of that serene memory. "Fuckup? You told me to picture sand?! I made sand!" The noise of it all had started to lessen, and the sand built itself into a somewhat proper beach within his metaspace. "No - I told you to make one grain of sand. One, in your palm. I wanted you to get used to things without further messing up your stats. But you blew all of my expectations for you clear out of this world. Out of this galaxy. I can''t express how ridiculous what you just did is. Your mana pool is fucking huge. We need to hustle with the rest now." Reid felt a chill go up his spine. He tried to pull up his full information, but Nyx interrupted him with a stern tone. "Hang on... from here on out, I want you to only look at a single stat at a time for the rest of your training. No peeking at the others until I let you. Now, here''s power." The information appeared, and his eyes went wide.
Power: 62.5 -> 112.5
There it was, in all its glory and implication. The other piece to the equation of the cap on Reid''s stats, enforced by control. The hill he encountered with physical strengthening had only ever been half of his maximum, with the other hidden behind this metaphysical wall. The new points - all fifty he''d gained in a single action - wouldn''t make him physically stronger; he knew that instinctively. But the power stat was never only about physical strength - it was also a representation of his mana capacity. He felt within himself, to where his mana pool lay. It had been made bigger after Nyx''s work to wake him, but what he encountered now felt absolutely cavernous - as if the mud he pulled with energy before had been the result of him digging into the sides of the walls to make the space multiple times larger than before. Reid''s stomach rumbled deep and low in the real world, and he pulled himself out to find his lips were chapped and parched, and his body had been covered in blankets. He propped himself up on an elbow, and saw Lycra and Win rush towards him. Nyx made a throat-clearing noise. "Also - you should probably know making that beach took you three days."