***Elliot***

“Thank you, dear lord baby Jesus,” Elliot muttered as the shaking stopped, his knuckles white around the thumb drive as he watched the ceiling for any sign of renewed shaking. Earthquakes were uncommon in space, unheard of on soscath, and rare on the surface of Marconen, so Elliot had never truly experienced a bad one.

All his metaphysical shit was scattered all over the metaphysical place. The microwave had detached from the wall, dangling from its cord, his fridge had come open and spilled all his favorite ciders all over the floor. The table was on one side of the room, moved all the way over by the violent shaking. His chair was toppled over in the mess, and the monitor built into the massive arch beside the viewscreen was dark,

The viewscreen. The large window where he could see out into the real world, experiencing everything vicariously through Calvin. That was dark too.

The sudden thought of being trapped in this room for another several thousand years, billions, even, was enough to make the hairs on Elliot’s neck stand up. Going mad in a cramped dark space was no one’s idea of a good time.

He wasn’t even sure he could meditate to speed things up. He didn’t exactly have a body and a System, after all.

Elliot waited a few more minutes, making sure the spell that had scrambled the System was actually gone.

“Okay, just gonna stand up now,” Elliot said, talking to no one in particular. “Don’t mind me, just gonna put this little thumb-drive in the port. No big deal…”

He put the backup in, then leaned down to the side of the arch and jammed his thumb into the reboot switch.

Cross your fingers.

System Initializing…

“WHOOO!” Elliot shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

He took the System through the reboot, installing some of the updates to Calvin’s system that he’d been cooking up. No time like the present.

Elliot watched anxiously as the code streamed down the face of the monitor, too fast for him to process, but absolutely familiar. Half an hour later, the symbol of the Federation took over the screen, and the System finished booting up.

Light suddenly flared from the viewscreen as the link to Calvin’s brain kicked in.

“Welcome back, Elliot,” Calvin’s thoughts echoed from the speaker in front of him. “Thought I’d lost you. Although you chose a pretty bad time to come back.”

“I can see that,” Elliot said with a scowl, spotting the collar at the bottom of the screen around Calvin’s neck and the ring of cultists in red hooded robes around them. From the kid’s point of view he seemed to be on his knees, and Kala was off to the side, looking particularly battered, with one eye swollen shut.

“How the hell did this happen?”

“Well…”

***Calvin***

Ella appeared in the doorway, her skin a bloody sheen, teeth bared in a feral grin. She dismissed the civilians huddled by the entrance and locked on to Calvin and the three people around him.

All right! Calvin thought, catching her gaze and nodding to Kala. If she could get Kala back in the fight, things would look much better. In the meantime, Calvin needed to make sure she was able to do that.

The princess was curled on the ground, napping through the fight under the wizard’s spell.

Calvin locked eyes with the illusion wizard as both of them looked away from the door simultaneously, weighing their odds.

Calvin willed Mesmerizing Eye to hold the man in thrall, but his Stability was most likely far above Calvin’s Intuition, and the man shrugged the effects off, shrugging his arms out of his robes as he began kneading Bent into a sphere between his palms.

Calvin shoved as much mass out of himself as he could and into the floor, no more than forty pounds or so with his weakened bridge, before he pushed off the wall and began charging toward the wizard.

“Castle!” The man shouted calmly, keeping his eyes locked on Calvin as Ella slapped Kala awake.

With a blur of Bent-assisted speed the Genosian Legend launched himself off the wall and brought his glowing steel bludgeon up toward Calvin’s ribs.

That’s crushing blow. If that hits, I’m going to have compound fractures.

Calvin put a foot forward and shoved backward, his light weight making it possible to lean out of the way of the whistling metal cudgel and its embedded jerrytanium ridealong.

“Kala, wake up, princess. Beauty sleep is fine and all, but this seems excessive.” Ella said, jostling Kala.

Calvin shifted the weight from the floor into the knife, and the sudden torque yanked the attached steel cudgel out of the genosian’s hands. The genosian gave a confused grunt and furrowed his brows as Calvin bore in on him.

Calvin then leaned forward and took a swing at the man’s midsection, shifting all the mass available into his right hand once it reached it’s maximum speed.

The Genosian used his superior speed to float around the strike, letting it go over his shoulder as he ducked.

Ah, crap, Calvin had this happen to him multiple times in practice against Karen. It was just a matter of watching it happen now.

The fighter put his knuckles right in front of Calvin’s bruised ribs, and Calvin’s hurtling three hundred pound fist did the rest of the work for him, pulling him into the strike.

Crunch!

This time, Calvin was sure he broke a rib.

In the instant before he broke away, Calvin flickered the mass off, swung his hand down, and refilled his hand with channeled mass, catching the Genosian on the shoulder as the bigger man leaned away.

Crunch! Calvin’s hand bore down into the mans shoulder, the force transferring through the warrior’s armor of muscle and dislocating his arm.

Calvin coughed out a satisfied laugh as the brawler kicked him away, one arm dangling.

“Knight!” The Genosian said, stumbling away in pain as Calvin clutched his flaming ribcage with his left hand.

Knight?

Calvin didn’t have time to worry about this, as the wizard was done kneading his spell.

“Antipathy.” He said, a point of red light clutched in his hand.

No, you fucking don’t! Calvin thought, sprinting forward.

The wizard had the gall to ignore Calvin and aim the spell toward Ella, who was helping a dizzy-looking Kala to her feet. If getting both of them in the fight was Calvin’s road to winning, preventing that was the most logical course of action.

Damnit! Calvin thought, only a few strides away from the sorcerer. He had to take him down before he did…whatever that was.

The briefest flash of murderous intent from his left, along with the sensation of an invisible body slipping through the air was all the warning he got.

Calvin flung his feet out, ducking below waist height as the rogue became visible beside him, her swords flashing through the spot where his head had been.

She’s not pulling any punches.

“What the hell is with this freak!?” She demanded, swinging her swords down at him in the blink of an eye.

Rude.

Calvin was out of space to maneuver and energy, so he tried something he’d only attempted in Shadow-Boxing,

He filled his right hand with all the mass he could as he jabbed his hand forward at the highest speed he could.

Calvin’s hefty hand dragged his body out of the way of the woman’s strike, sliding him across the floor with an ache in his shoulder as the sudden weight overtaxed his joints.

Calvin slid up to the wizard and lunged forward, but he was too late, the bead of red light had already been released. Ella tried to put a chair between herself and it, but the bead went through it without harming the object. When she tried to dodge, it simply followed her, sinking into her skin.

“I don’t fucking know! Castle!” The wizard shouted, backing up as Calvin leapt forward. If I can kill this guy it should cancel the effect.

He jutted the last knife he had out of the skin of his palm and swung it for the man’s face. The sorcerer raised his hand and let it go through his palm, sacrificing an arm to keep the blade out of his vitals, and before Calvin could make a second attempt, He felt his bent bridge snap, all the mass returning to the places they should rightly be. He was suddenly heavy, wounded, and slow.

He glanced over and spotted the Dispeller panting from the ground, red-faced and furious, holding outs a hand toward him.

Crap.

Calvin got tackled from the side as the Genosian hit him with his good shoulder, sending him careening away, toppling to the ground.

The last thing that Calvin saw from the ground was Kala dodging a flurry of blows from an absolutely furious Ella, and then a really big fist.

***Calvin***

And that’s how we came to this, Calvin thought, glancing around the dimly lit ritual room. As It turns out I can’t fight four Legends simultaneously yet.

You should have had Ella back you up against the wizard and his guards.

Well that’s pretty obvious in hindsight, Calvin thought, rolling his eyes. I could have sworn I could keep them busy long enough.

Dude, you were riding the razor’s edge the whole time.

Bah, Calvin mentally grunted, wrinkling his nose at the Warp in the room. It was so thick he could practically smell it.

The Uleisans have a place that can literally bake Legends. That might explain what kept these twelve men in power for so long, if each one of them was consistently superhuman.

Maybe not. Too much Warp at once IS toxic. The only reason you’re not getting sick is because your tolerance is already pretty high. They could bake veterans into Legends in this place, but probably nothing less without poisoning them.

Now you’re just being pedantic, Calvin thought, glancing around. Kala was beside him, her neck bound in a similar blue collar to the one he was currently scratching from the inside with Blade Body and a chip of glass. It was fortuitous that he’d been able to sharpen it enough for his skin to absorb it.

Mutations don’t get turned off, thank the gods.

They hadn’t left him in a cell very long. Later that night, they had dragged him and Kala into this Warp-drenched pit into the Abyss, and started some kind of annoying ritual chanting.

Freakin’ cults, man.

Even now, Calvin was carefully, slowly rubbing the sharp piece of glass up and down the inside of his collar in an attempt to break the enchantment and turn the damned thing off, allowing his Bent to return.

As it was, he was so weak that these wrinkled old men had been able to manhandle him onto his knees in front of the pit into nothingness, radiating Warp.

I’m going to remember each and every one of your faces, Calvin thought, craning his neck and marking each and every single one of them, his vision excellent in the dim light.

Suddenly they stopped chanting, and an absolute giant of a man lumbered into the room, wearing a silk robe big enough to make a tent out of.

Five bucks says that’s their leader, Elliot said as Calvin looked around for Ella.

Why didn’t they bring her with us? The possibility that they had simply killed the nameless Genosian girl didn’t escape Calvin, and the more he dwelt on it, the more his hands began to hurt, twisting against the steel manacles holding his hands in place until he felt something wet begin dripping down his fingers.

She better be alive.

For you, isn’t alive or dead kind of a wash?

Remember when I promised to break your spine?

Oh, yeah. Elliot hummed pensively. You’re about to die. Are you sure you want to waste time on empty threats?

“Welcome Brothers,” The giant said, spreading his arms wide. “Today we have something truly exceptional. A commoner who has killed one of our own.”

There was low muttering through the ten other red-robed men.

“…those things are expensive,” Calvin heard Murak mutter.

“Allegedly,” Calvin enunciated carefully through the gag with his absolute best smile. Despite the sickening feeling in his stomach and the near surety he was about to die, Calvin abhorred the idea of cowering in front of these bonebags.

Kala grunted vaguely in agreement.

The lean one beside the giant stepped forward and laid a smack across Calvin’s face that rattled his brain.

“We seek an enlightened soul.” The giant intoned, and a hush settled over the assembled fogies.

“We seek more like us, outcasts in need of safe harbor. Wandering souls exiled from their home, from their people, in search of community, purpose, and power. We regret the harm we have caused these lowly creatures, but we will never stop searching, casting our net among the exceptional and the revolutionary, testing them, and adding those found worthy to our cause. The cause of the King-in-Exile.”

The who?

He nodded to lean man beside him.

“May you be found worthy.” He said, stepping forward and placing a foot on Calvin’s chest.

Calvin knew what he was doing, and he tried to summon his Bent, bring his hands around to his front, get up and kick the man, Abyss, he even tried to catch the lean bastard’s foot with his chin.

None of it worked. With a shove Calvin was tumbling backward, spine crying out in protest as he bent over nearly in half trying not to fall in the hole. But fall he did.

To Calvin’s utter horror, he saw the chain connecting him to Kala pull tight and violently drag the princess into the pit as well.

***Ella***

A surge of panic dragged Ella out of unconsciousness, and she sat up, teeth bared, ready to maul the first person to approach her.

She was in a cot in something like a yurt, fully clothes still, with nothing more than a couple light bruises to show for the fight she’d been in the night before.

The fight.

Ella’s fingers tightened in the fur covers as she remembered how utterly useless she’d been, getting possessed by the enemy and forced to hurt her own friend within seconds of arriving to help.

The shame felt like a great ocean that was going to drown her if she didn’t find another way to breathe.

Ella drew in a shuddering breath and choked back a sob. No time to cry. Calvin’s still alive, and while he’s still alive, there’s still work to do.

Even if he was dead, Ella had work to do.

She blew out as much of the guilt as she could and rolled out of bed.

How did I get in a yurt, anyway?

“Good morning, niece.” A massive shape said as it entered the yurt, clutching a bowl of meat-filled broth in his sausage fingers.

“Uncle Euaha?” She asked, blinking.

“Let’s talk about your Poeor.” Her gigantic Aiaka uncle said, sitting down, one arm wrapped in a sling, a massive bruise across his entire chest.

***Kurawe***

“He’s dead,” Kurawe said, placatingly.

“How?” The illusionist asked. “Did you cut off his head and stuff his mouth with fucking Garlic? Because at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if that didn’t work.”

“He pushed a team of four Legends to the brink!” Kate said, holding her thumb and forefinger close together. “True, we had orders to take him alive, but a seventeen year old boy shouldn’t be able to nearly kill all of us. It was entirely unnatural.”

“I saw him literally shape-shift, while under the effects of Bent Suppression,” Matthias said, nodding. “He had fucking…knives coming out of his skin, fully autonomous copies running around…explosives. Not a single damn wasp.”

“We don’t like it when we aren’t informed of our target’s complete capabilities.” Suppan said, her arms crossed.

“Exactly.” Matthias said, pointing at her before lifting his bandaged hand up. “He almost got each of us! more than once!”

“It sounds more like petulant complaints than the words of Legends.” Kurawe rumbled, grabbing his favorite bottle and slowly filling it with wine.

“Not complaints, We just want to be sure you kill…whatever that was.”

“He’s dead.” Kurawe said. “End of discussion.” He noticed the sharp-toothed one was absent.

“Where’s Euaha?” He asked, frowning.

“Recovering,” Kate supplied. “Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder.”

“Huh,” Kurawe grunted. He didn’t need them all in attendance.

“The boy is in the Abyss. That is all you need to know.”