Hunter woke on his sixteenth birthday on the only bed he’d ever slept on, having just lately reached a height where he might be too tall for it, and didn’t think he felt any different. He wondered, briefly, if maybe his parents had gotten the day wrong, or something worse invalid, and if he was going to integrate at all. Not willing to put himself through that kind of panic attack, he just decided it was his day to relax anyway, and stayed in bed. That’s when he noticed that he had a new wrong direction he could look, and when he looked that way, his eyes didn’t move, but he saw a shimmering holoscreen anyway.

Initializing Infra Regency Structure v. 1375.26…

Analyzing Physical Substrate… complete

Assessing Optimized Skill Ratings… complete

Interfacing Consciousness Command Index… complete

Importing Limited Plus Contacts… complete Welcome to [Infra], [Hunter Redsmith]! Would you like to view the tutorial? Y/N

He understood the words, but he didn’t understand how he seemed to be both reading and hearing them at the same time. What was even worse was he especially didn’t understand how he was doing that, and also still staring at his ceiling and listening to the clatter of dishes from downstairs as well. On top of that, when Hunter squinted and really concentrate on what the screen said, it turned out to be written in that weird Infra language, which he was sure he had no idea how to decipher, yet he still did.

So weird, he thought to himself, and then startled a little when he saw that flash on his screen briefly.

“So weird” is not a recognized answer. Would you like to view the tutorial? Y/N

In your general vicinity, zero (0) [Humans] have chosen to view the updated tutorial. There is an [Achievement] to be the first.

He turned to check the time, but stopped when the screen momentarily transformed into a clock, letting him know there was probably plenty of morning left before breakfast, so he shrugged and thought, sure, yes. Then he relaxed, or at least tried to, as a stream of information poured into his consciousness, a mildly unpleasant sensation that took some time to get used to.

Thank you for accessing the tutorial. [Secret Knowledge] achievement unlocked!

[Infra] is highly cognito-responsive user interface, connecting quadrillions (>10^15) of sapient beings to an extra-dimensional substrate [Essence] manifold. Without the conduit management services of this manifold, there is a very large chance (>98%) that the local false vacuum collapse that was on the verge of occurring nineteen (19) [years] ago would have obliterated all reality as the sapients of this solar system know it.

Now that the transversal obliteration of a small portion of existence has been avoided, [Infra] governs the distribution of raw [Essence], the most refined, smallest bit of substantial reality.

Hunter whistled low to himself, wondering how much of that anyone knew, and why no one had ever told him a bit of it. Sure, it was horribly confusing, bordering on nonsensical, and completely useless for an explanation, but it was information that should have been somewhere, being discussed. He shrugged and decided if it continued to bother him, he’d ask around about it later.

As a sapient [Human] of a vaguely agreed-upon age of majority, you have been granted access to [Infra] and your natural ability as a complex, emergent form of matter to gather [Essence] has been unrestricted. As you accumulate more raw [Essence], the manifold will safely convert it and award you a portion thereof as judged by [Infra].

He was starting to get annoyed with all the pointless links in the window, so he tried something. [Infra], he thought, ugh, that right there. No more links in text, speech, or commands unless it’s something new. And stop capitalizing so much.

Preferences updated! Here is your recorded vital information, as retrieved by direct scanning and inferred through contextual surveillance. Name: Hunter Redsmith Species: Human Age: 16 Years

Identifying features: Red hair, 65 inches in height, upright bipedal gait

Warning: these are all subject to change with no interference from Infra. It will, however, modify your body in other ways. While most changes will occur on an orthogonal dimensional plane, some may branch into this one. This is your [stats] page, which tracks your progress of essence conversion. Level: 1 Tier: [Mortal] Division: [Beginner] Path: N/A Class: N/A Mod: N/A [Resilience]: 108/108 [Affinity]: 18/18 [Vigor]: 106/106 [Strength]: 8 [Knowledge]: 7 [Charisma]: 6 [Agility]: 10 [Intelligence]: 8 [Wit]: 8 [Toughness]: 8 [Willpower]: 8 [Drive]: 6 [Luck] +10/-5

So many links! Clear them all. I know that’s level 1-100, that’s level 1-25, those are how much I can get hurt, how much magic I can do, and how much I can get tired. Stats are a grid of power, speed, and endurance on the rows, physical, mental, and social on the columns. Ugh! And luck barely exists, experimentally it’s a nonfactor, why do you even show it? Literally just show me links for things I don’t know, please.

Preferences updated! Your skills, talents, and achievement pages are locked until you choose a path. Paths provide a long-term goal for members of Infra to work toward, and grant bonuses to progression when fulfilling certain conditions. Please choose a path now from the following list to continue. Default Infra Paths Adventurer Villager General Organization Paths [Guild Adventurer] [Guild Townsperson] Unlocked Earth-Specific Paths [Redoubt Defender] [Redoubt Villager] [Order Soldier] [Order Citizen] Unlocked Heritage Paths [Den Mother]

He glanced through the options with a frown, not realizing how similar and restrictive most of the paths were. He didn’t know that Guild Adventurers only earned bonus essence when in a group with their guild, or that Order Soldiers didn’t earn any at all, and just had access to quests that sounded suspiciously like jobs no one else wanted to do. Den Mother, even though it had a silly name, seemed pretty good, though.

Den Mother Nothing is more important than one’s cubs. The Den Mother cares not for what is happening in this world, just that her loved ones are safe and prepared while it does. A foe that threatens her protected children is one that is not long for this world, or any other. Combat Path - +essence gain when defending designated individuals, +essence gain when [Teaching], (bonus) +efficacy of [Teaching] skill

The biggest downside was that Hunter would never, ever be able to tell anyone the path he walked, or his mother would probably be upset. He’d learned so much from her and about her in the last few years, but never the name and specifics of the thing that kept her growing and improving constantly. It wasn’t that bad of a name Mama Bear, but he could see why she’d want to keep it quiet.

He stretched out on the little bed and glanced around his room, reminding himself of all the worries he’d had lately. He knew, he just knew, that being an adult was all about compromise and making the best choice out of poor ones sometimes, so maybe this was a lesson. But if he was honest with himself, and that was also important, he didn’t like any of those paths. At best, he could see himself as an Adventurer, but conversations with his Uncle Ernie had made that seem like a poor decision at best.

Show me, he closed his eyes and thought hard, available paths that meet the following requirements: combat path, boost to essence gain not tied to cooperation, boost to essence gain not limited to restricted public resources. Apparently, these days, all the good Slides and Sources were camped out and aggressively guarded by nearby organizations, nothing like the beginning of the apocalypse, when a brave adventurer with a good travel talent could simply wander, do good deeds, and rake in essence. When that path filtered off his screen, Hunter knew that Infra was aware of that particular problem.

It is statistically likely that the roles of base Infra paths, over time, are subsumed by more specialized ones. Only roughly three out of every ten (31%) worlds still maintain a culture amenable to these default essence-gathering professions.

Would you like Infra to generate a custom path that meets your requirements? (Y/N) Warning: this will require a deep motive neuro-glandular scan to complete. Readings this invasive in nature tend to be very unpleasant for sapient creatures.

Wait, did it just, Hunter shook his head to get rid of the idea that Infra was reading the thoughts he wasn’t deliberately projecting spooky as he read the rest of the message. That didn’t sound like a nice process, but maybe it was worth it. He sighed and mentally nudged the Y on the screen, and immediately passed out.

Hunter couldn’t see, couldn’t move, but after a few brief moments he realized he wasn’t exactly unconscious. He was still aware of the Infra screen rotating in his new field of vision wait, and he watched it for a while, unsure how he knew it was rapidly twisting and turning when he could read it just fine so over this. Each time it flipped, it read something different, too fast for him to comprehend except a few. He managed to catch [Cultivator], [Battle Addict], [Pirate King], [Superhero], and a few others before he got even more distracted.

Behind the screen there’s no behind the screen it’s just the screen, there were scenes from his life being played out, even if he couldn’t see them. He knew he felt exactly how he’d felt when he’d gone on that weird ride when he was a kid, imagining the same stomach-lurching terror followed by supernatural calm. After that passed, it was the first time he fought and killed a living being wasn’t alive, doesn’t count, then that terrible storm when the river flooded and he’d spent the whole day helping to rescue that family on the raft. He didn’t realize how much panic he’d been in until he relived each scenario, how much it must have affected him when he could remember exactly how his body felt even if the details of each day escaped him.

There was a brief respite, the screen still spinning and spitting out words that barely meant anything, and then it got worse. He felt the day his father sat him down and told him Mom wasn’t coming home wait, the fight with Jenkins’ upgraded robot where he caught a crackler shot to his left eye and felt it literally explode in its socket no, then the time the family dog we had a dog? exploded into a billion spiders and devoured little Jack in his crib STOP!

Then things got weird for Hunter. He remembered what it was like growing up as a young, adopted squidling, trying his best to help out on the farm even though he could barely flop around on the bare dirt and each gasp of air burned his fluid bladders I’m checking out. He lived through the drudgery of the decades he’d spent in that dirty factory what, chopping the heads off homunculi with his dull axe and affixing his sticker to those that grew back forgot, checked out. He experienced the insane rush he felt when he slapped an entire planet into the sun with one of his thousand tails ok that one was pretty cool and the despair as he sat on his throne, the last of a dying race, coughing out of his slowly eroding exoskeleton.

Still, the screen kept spinning, flashing [INVALID] over and over in colors that didn’t even exist, faster and brighter until he was sick and blind and nothing made sense anymore or ever would or could and this is all your fault for never being settled, not once.

Hunter came to with a gasp, his eyes snapping open, and rubbed his temples gingerly. He’d been knocked out before, but waking up without a splitting headache or a conversation with Dr. Jansen about being more careful in the future was a win in his book. He wondered briefly why he felt like he’d been crying, but his cheeks were dry, and breakfast was going to be soon, so he didn’t spend too long dwelling on it. He checked the Infra window and after a moment, shrugged and mumbled to himself, “Guess I’ll take it.”

You have been assigned the custom path, [Truth Seeker]. As a beginner, you will be allowed to change your path at any time, and in a more restricted fashion through the rest of your mortal levels. Sapients may not force unlocks for more than one path each, however. Truth Seeker Knowledge is the foundation of all success, and the most important knowledge is when it is good and right to act. You are a Seeker of mysteries and secrets, at many times the first and only to delve into the darker places, and a righter of wrongs when you inevitably find them. Combat Path - +essence gain when exploring or researching ungrouped, +essence gain for righteous or honorable combat, (bonus) +skill growth and progression You have unlocked skills! Skills are an assessment of your proficiency in many mundane and Infra-enabled activities. At higher levels, skill levels will also reflect your natural essence ability to supplement your actions with extra force, verve, creativity, etc. Here is your current skills page, reflecting your relevant competence when compared to an average sapient. Affinity Infratech Essence Physics: 11 Fundamental Math: 8 Patron Soft Style Martial Arts Dodge: 100 Parry: 92 Staff Fighting: 83 Touch Attack: 96 General Other Paths Athletics: 71 Awareness: 38 Farming: 43 Meditation: 16 Stealth: 32

Hunter groaned and would have flopped onto his bed in disgust if he wasn’t already there, instead settling for rubbing his temples harder. He’d been studying hard at those esoteric Infra subjects, for at least three or four years, getting help from anyone who would bother, and apparently it didn’t add up to much. At least, it seemed, that he was a pretty adept fighter already, but he’d previously done the math and guessed that.

Eight (8) achievements unlocked! Achievements are a good way to track your performance and progress as you use Infra. As you accomplish more, you’ll earn both temporary and permanent talents to help you reach even more impressive heights. [Secret Knowledge] You agreed to view the tutorial before beginning your journey. Who knows what else you’ll learn? +skill growth while still a beginner [Quick Learner I] You raised a skill to level fifty (50) before integration. You’re very prepared! +skill growth while still a beginner [Skilled I] You have maxed one (1) skill. Keep training hard to reach your potential. +one (1) free talent [Quick Learner II] You have maxed one (1) skill before integration. That’s some fast work! +one (1) free talent [Young Expert] You have unlocked a base skill before integration. Someone’s been teaching you well! +one (1) to base skill refinery [Headstart I] You defeated a rated opponent before integration. Was there an emergency? +essence gain while still a beginner [Headstart II] You defeated a rated opponent in solo combat before integration. That’s quite a feat. +essence gain while still a beginner [Headstart III] You defeated a rated opponent over level twenty-five (25) before integration. That’s very dangerous! +essence gain while still a beginner

Please, Hunter thought, don’t give me the weird commentary on any more achievements, or talents, or anything.

Preferences updated! You have unlocked talents! Talents are a shorthand for anything that exceeds the limitations of the average sapient. Raw essence collected from the environment is fused to your personal extradimensional locus to enable supernatural feats in your current home plane, from simple boosts to skills all the way to reality-bending magic. Talents are earned by gaining achievements, maxing skill ranks, progressing through levels, etc. You have earned three (3) semi-random talents as per Infra Emergency Order. [Family Tradition] Uncommon. You are the recipient of archaic combat knowledge handed down from a family member. +ten percent (10%) to all skill ratings while performing your inherited combat style (synergy) [Combination Ace] Common. You are adept as using one field of knowledge to boost another. all synergy talents have their efficacy boost doubled (2x) [Oncoming Storm] Near Unique, Upgradeable. You take each conflict seriously, and force those opposing you to do so as well. after ten (10) rounds of sustained combat, +damage inflicted, +damage received, scaling with every ten (10) rounds thereafter. after a number of rounds past the initial ten (10) equal to your opponent’s level, a successful attack will instantly defeat them. each round where you are neither struck, nor receive resilience damage, counts double (2x)

“That’s,” Hunter whispered to himself as he sat up, “really good? Wait, is it?” He picked up his tablet, but it was dead and unresponsive for the first time in six years. Just when he was wondering how he was going to get another calculator, the Infra screen transformed into the exact same layout as the one in his tablet. “Oh, makes sense.”

“So, rounds are what, six seconds. That means every minute, I do more damage and take more damage. Or, wait. Every thirty seconds, I do more damage, because I just won’t get hit. That’s the plan. And it’s a flat boost, not a percentage, so it should affect touch attacks, I think? I’ll have to ask Ernie, he’d know. So, umm. Peak mortal, one hundred plus ten times six divided by two? That’s five and a half minutes, and they’re down. Mastered ascendant, three hundred, umm, fifteen and a half minutes. Perfect transcendent, thirty and a half. Huh.”

He settled back in on the bed and chewed on his bottom lip for a while. He’d done a lot of reading in the last year or two, bouncing between all the rumor boards, having fun discussing and arguing about all the talents and paths that had been discovered so far. Limited Plus had a very robust and fun messaging board system for kids, as long as you were willing to ignore a lot of misinformation and speculation to get to the good stuff. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever seen a talent, even on the more poorly sourced threads, that guaranteed a one hit victory on practically anything, restricted like his was or not. After thinking over the options, he decided that powerful talents like that probably popped up at a decent rate, but when someone obtained one, they just didn’t tell any gossipy minors in the vicinity.

You have one (1) talent available from maxing your dodge skill. Please pick from the following pool of dodge talents. [Evasive Retreat] You are particularly nimble, especially when trying to avoid combat. (active) after a successful dodge, you may disengage from combat without penalty [Heads Up] You are very hard to surprise or corner. you may dodge at full (100%) skill, no matter the direction an attack comes from [Sacrifice Play] You pick your battles, and know when to take your shots. (active) you may forgo a successful dodge roll and take the hit instead, guaranteeing a free, immediate counterattack You also have two (2) free talents available from achievements. You qualify for a large number of available options. You may filter the results before viewing.

Hunter selected Heads Up, because it was the only one that fit his tentative plan to stay in combat for exceedingly long periods of time and never get hit. Even if things didn’t work out like he was hoping they would, it was a good talent. He couldn’t count the number of times he had twisted the wrong way while fighting one of Mr. Jenkins’ farmbots and taken a bolt of electricity to the middle of his back without even knowing it was coming. He also thought that if he had to pick a specialty in combat, he could do worse than focusing on simply not being hit. With that in mind, he asked Infra to narrow his choices down to whatever would make him more proficient at his already-maxed dodge skill and almost immediately took the first result, and then the one that popped up after.

[Wily Opponent] You are very difficult to strike successfully in combat. +ten percent (10%), additive, to all dodge rolls [Dodge Expert] Unlocked (two (2) dodge-related talents taken). You have taken the next step along the path to being an expert of avoiding attacks, and now may weave between any number of them. multiple opponent mitigation penalty reduced from fifty percent (+50%) to twenty-five percent (+25%)

Hunter finally, ugh got out of bed and wandered downstairs, following the smell of pancakes while he read and replied to the various birthday messages he’d already received. He was pretty good at typing on his tablet while he walked, and doing it all in his head was even easier. His favorite part, especially with the messages from Ellie and Ernie, were that he heard the sender’s voice in his head when he read the text. Everyone else who messaged their congratulations was from Willard, and theirs weren’t nearly so novel.

“Good morning, Hunter,” his dad said as carefully flipped a pancake, “Managed to crawl out from under the paperwork long enough for a birthday breakfast?”

“There’s so much of it,” he whined as he slumped into his seat. “And I think that tutorial started to sass me halfway through.”

“Tutorial?” both of his parents managed to ask at the same time.

“What was that like, bump?” his mother continued, kissing him on the top of his head as she set a glass of orange juice in front of him.

“Yeah, umm. It said it was new, and that no one around here had actually done it. I don’t know, it did a lot of talking, but, huh. I think the only thing it really did was open all my menus for me, so I knew what it felt like. Oh, that and it got my name wrong.”

His dad turned from the stove with a heaping stack of pancakes on a serving tray and squinted in an exaggerated manner as he looked at Hunter, making a show out of pulling up his nameplate. He chuckled faintly as he sat down at the same time Jack did, who’d been waiting at the door of the kitchen until the food was ready.

“That’s not too bad,” he smiled with a shake of his head. “At least, I’ve seen worse. Cat, do you remember Kelly Question Mark?”

His mom showed the quiet smile she had when she’d feel bad about laughing no need to pile on misfortune and nodded. “She petitioned to get it fixed, and I don’t recall it taking too long. You might be stuck with yours for a while though, since it’s not that far off.”

“Don’t worry,” his dad chimed in, “we’ll still treat you like family, Mr. Redsmith.”

Hunter ate his pancakes and sausage while his parents chatted about the usual Willard business and only realized about halfway through the meal that he was being stared at. Jack, who at seven years old was finally starting to feel like a real person in the house and not just a sack of trouble you had to keep away from the stairs, had his gaze latched onto Hunter, eyebrows furrowed, while he loudly chewed his sausage.

“You,” his little brother all but shouted, “tol’ me that you were gonna show me magic today!” He looked very proud of himself for voicing his grievance in a calm manner, at least a calm one for his age and usual demeanor. The last time he’d wanted something from Hunter, his idea of a solution was following him around and kicking the backs of his legs, for days.

“Oh, Jackie,” Hunter replied. “I’m sorry, buddy. I said I might be able to show you magic today, if I got any. That’s my bad, really. I didn’t get anything worth showing off.”

“Promise!”

“I know, buddy. I know I promised. It’s just bad luck, hey?”

“No, promise!” Jack broke into a fit of giggles, then mumbled, “Promise you’ll show off someday then.”

“Oh, for sure, Jackie. I guess I’ve got one thing to show off, if you come out with me to Mr. Jenkins’ farm later.”

“Robots?” Jack said in his best whisper, which was still pretty loud.

“Robots, promise.”

“How does that make you feel, not getting anything flashy, Hunter?” his mom asked, smiling. “I seem to remember an eleven year old boy, running around the house, screaming about the ‘death punch’ he was going to learn.” At that last bit, she gave his dad an almost unreadable look.

“Look, I’m just saying. There were plenty of movies where tai chi masters secretly know the death punch. Who says Infra didn’t watch any of them and get ideas?”

“I think, actually,” Hunter interjected, before his parents really got started on that particular, playful argument gross, “I may have gotten, you know, possibly, a kind of.” He trailed off right at the end, barely mumbling, “death punch.”

“Death punch!” Jack was not helping.

“Hunter Schmidt,” his mother started, in a tone that said whatever she wanted, she was getting. “I’m going to send you a request, and I’d like you to accept, please.”

[Catherine Schmidt] has requested full, read-only access to your menu screen. This will not include the messages or currency functions. Do you accept? Y/N

Hunter pushed his empty plate out of the way, slumped his head onto folded arms on the table, and meekly thought, yes. He wondered, briefly, if it was going to feel invasive to have someone peek in on what amounted to a numerical summation of his life, but there wasn’t any sensation he could tell.

“That is certainly interesting, young man,” his mom said in a soft voice after a few moments. “It might be verging on impractical to use in most situations, but I would say that it qualifies as a death punch.”

“Wait, really?” his dad spluttered, coughing out some orange juice. “Actual, hidden master, wu hao deadly lotus, seven step doom kind of death punch?”

Hunter tuned out the rest of their conversation to dish up a second helping of his birthday breakfast. Ever since Plano, the unspoken ban on discussing his mother’s fighting abilities had been lifted, if only slightly. In practical terms, for Hunter that meant more detailed instructions in the mornings, more anecdotes about his forms would help in actual combat, and more time listening to the harrowing experiences his mom had managed to fight her way out of. For his parents, though, it just seemed to be an excuse to revisit a teasing argument they’d been having since before he was born.

His mother insisted that what she was taught and practiced pre-apocalypse were exercises, and nothing more. She’d taken up tai chi, yoga, and other meditative practices as a teenager, trying anything to calm a sense of nervous energy that Hunter could relate to very well. It was only after Infra and the first time she faced a terrifying foe in those woods that she ever saw it as a combat tool. His dad as a younger man, however, had watched a lot of movies, which were apparently two-dimensional holoplays or something, and they said something different. Hunter was reasonably sure he was just joking about most of the things his dad said his mom could do, although less sure now. If there really was a death punch, Hunter figured, maybe running on treetops and other stuff was possible, too.

He finished eating and helped Jack clean up while he told his parents his plans for the day.

“I’ll drop Jackie off at school on time, and I’ll be home to clean up for supper. I hope you didn’t invite too many people, please.”

Hunter and his brother walked along the road toward the Jenkins farm hand in hand. Jack pointed out every farmbot they passed while he talked endlessly about every single thing that came to mind.

“So, do they punch hard? Do they grab you with their metal claws and never let go?”

“Ah, they don’t really punch,” Hunter mumbled, “And they’ve got clamps, not claws.”

“Nuts! What if they had claws? Could you still beat them up?”

“I mean, probably? How big are these claws?”

“Umm,” Jack seemed to be stumped ha. “Big?”

“Oh, big claws? Yeah, I’d be in trouble. The whole town would be in trouble. Mr. Jenkins would probably be King Jenkins of Willard if his robots had big claws.”

“Whoa. Hey! It’s King Jenkins!” Jack yelled as he yanked his hand free and ran off.

Hunter followed along, waving once he was closer to the porch. “Hey, Mr. Jenkins. How’s things?”

“Well, I reckon you can just call me Dale, now, considerin’ it’s your big day,” the tall man replied. “Y’all here to start the next generation of robot fightin’?”

“Oh, gosh, no,” Hunter laughed, darting forward to catch his brother as he tripped backwards off the steps. “He’s not ready, and he’s way more into magic lately anyway.”

“Alright, that’s good. You’ve got these here bots tuned up so hard that I’d hate to see what they do to a little tyke like your boy Jackie here. It’s bad enough what they do to the varmints.”

Hunter just nodded in reply, then glanced around and grinned. “Do you mind if I borrow a few for a while? I promised to show my brother something interesting, and I’ve got some new math to check.”

“Sure, I don’t mind none. They ain’t as busy out there as they’re pretendin’.”

“Thanks, Mr. umm, I mean Dale.” Hunter stuck his fingers in his mouth and blew out three short patterns of whistles, calling over the three closest robots, and then with a wink at Mr. Jenkins, shrilled out a fourth. He waited until all four ambled into the yard before he stood up and moved into the middle of the loose circle.

“Ok, Jackie, play close attention,” Hunter called out. “I’m only going to do this once, and remember. If I catch you doing anything this stupid, ever, I’ll tell Mom.” Hunter took a deep breath well, stuck his hands in his pockets I’m gonna get beat up, and nodded to himself in front of my little brother. “Engage.”

The first thing Hunter noticed that was new was that his understanding of the forms was entirely different since the day before. He had learned every pose, every transition, and every shift in position by rote memorization. He practiced, for instance, hide behind tree in multiple ways every day, until he could snap into that position from almost any other one. No matter whether in his ready position, squatting, crouching, over-balanced on one leg or the other, Hunter could immediately move to a full standing position, feet together, arms tucked in, and stay perfectly balanced throughout. It wasn’t quite a checklist of assess threat, choose form, enact movement like he thought it would be when he was a kid, things moved in combat much too quickly for that, but he still knew what he was doing when he did it.

This was not like that, at all. As the four robots closed in on him and started swinging their crackler arms, Hunter just moved. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he straightened up to minimize his profile, not coincidentally letting the robot to his left jab where his forward leg used to be. Then using that momentum, he leaned forward and slid that same foot back at about the time he thought the rear bot would attack, and felt his shoe jam up against a metal foot that hadn’t set fully on the ground yet. As that robot clattered to the ground behind him, he was already twisting his shoulders and moving his elbow to guide the limb coming from his right side into the one swinging down from in front of him, sending up a quick shower of sparks. He moved back and to the left from the bright flash of the two cracklers connecting, his right foot stepping on the limb of the prone farmbot about to zap his ankle and pinning it down. A moment later, he swept the legs out from under the left robot, a quick tap with his left foot enough to tangle the limbs as it tried to make its second attack.

“Now smash ‘em!” he heard Jack shout, and he blinked. All four bots were on the ground, back in idle mode, and Hunter still had his hands in his pockets it’s a win, take it.

That was not how things usually went, and it certainly wasn’t anything he had practiced. He stepped off the one robot he’d ended on top of, and thought back. Hide behind tree, then part of bow to the king into greet the east and west except he only moved an elbow instead of both arms, and a finish of lines in the sand, without the arm flourish that usually kept him balanced. He had done all that in about two seconds flat, hadn’t moved more than a foot from where he started, and because you’re a showoff didn’t use his hands at all.

He fought with the robots a few more times until it was time to drag his little brother off to school, but as he was thinking about heading back into town, Mr. Jenkins stopped him.

“I know you’re headin’ out into the great, wide world soon, son. I was goin’ to bring this to ya at the little get-together your folks are throwin’, but it feels less showy to just hand it over now.” He whistled a series Hunter hadn’t heard before, and a new robot came skittering out of the house.

It was definitely a cousin to the farmbots, but a much smaller one. It had the same beige color to the carapace, but instead of a hollow shell the plastic formed more of a ball, about the size of both Hunter’s fists pressed together. It walked quickly on three miniature versions of the larger bots’ piston legs, barely a foot tall as it slid to a stop at his feet and stood upright.

“Oh my gosh, a hair-combing robot?”

“Naw,” Jenkins chuckled. “It can do that if ya want, though. Think of it more as a helperbot. Life’s real complicated when you’re out on your own, son. Trips here, it’ll make thing a fair bit easier. Straighten up around the house, pick weeds and such. Stuff a young feller out on his own maybe ain’t gonna bother with sometimes.”

“Hey, umm,” Hunter found himself choked up and giving the tall man a quick hug. “Thanks, Dale. I’ll see you tonight still, right?”

“Sure, I ain’t about to turn down a shindig.”

Hunter did some thinking on the way home, Jack and Trips chasing each other in circles as they followed him, and came up with a few disturbing questions. He couldn’t deny that he was much better at fighting than the last time he had tried 130 dodge + 10 agi, but he wasn’t entirely sure he liked the feeling he got while moving. He’d always considered the short, soft moves his mother had started to teach him once he learned the basics to be too scary to use in actual combat, and felt much safer moving out of the way with room to spare instead of just barely. Everything worked more efficiently this new way though, and his mom had always said that one day he’d be able to do the forms instinctively, but the timing was suspicious.

He sat down outside the schoolhouse after his brother had gone in and sent a message to the chat room he used to discuss these things with his mom and uncle.

You have entered the [Training Room for Bump] messaging group.

[Hunter Redsmith]: so, some quick ?s

[Hunter Redsmith]: 1 what’s muscle memory exactly and 2 can infra hijack it?

[Hunter Redsmith]: 3 mom-> are there any moves u know that u haven’t showed me? and 4 how would i know if i’m doing something i’ve never done b4?

[Hunter Redsmith]: 5 ernie-> do i get my own room 2mrw? or 6 will we be 2 busy fighting dragons 2 sleep? ;P

[Hunter Redsmith]: oh yea 7 if i have 100 dodge and +30% to it … and the 100 dodge is how good i am at dodging … what’s the 30%?

He relaxed for a little while, his new friend Trips clinging to his shoulder with its little clamps, and then got bored. “C’mon, Trips. Let’s go find some trouble.”

The trading caravan was in town, and it had gotten big compared to its early days when the redoubts were just opening up. His dad, Mr. Jenkins, and some of the other farmers had been gaining levels at an increased rate for various reasons and growing more and better crops, including some of the rare, essence-infused ones that higher levelled people were interested in. Kansas City, with its unique situation since the siege ended, had been growing in population every day, and buying up more of the food Willard and the other surrounding communities could produce. Those two things combined meant that there was plenty of crystallized essence ready to be spent in the redoubt, and now enough wagons came by to line up along the entire outside span of the southern wall.

Hunter still had a fair number of his own crystals stashed away from selling two of his three channelling rods, but he was holding onto them for the future. Besides, he felt a little odd thinking about buying himself something on his own birthday, so he just settled for a fruit soda from the first, brave trader to ever drag a cart full of goods out to Willard’s particular middle of nowhere. Trips popped the top off of the bottle with one of its clever clamp feet, each about the size of two fingers pinched together, while the man squinted and looked at the teen and his robot oddly.

“I could’ve sworn your name was Schmidt, kid,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, me too,” Hunter shook his head and raised his bottle in a toast, “Here’s to contextual surveillance, huh.”

“Oh,” he replied with a chuckle. “New hire, then? Good luck on getting that changed any time soon, by the way. Had a buddy named Jeremy What until the day he died. Congratulations, and take one of these, on me.”

Hunter headed back in the gate after checking out the rest of what was on display, still chewing on the unfamiliar candy, and realized that he was still so very bored. He watched the defenders drill for a while, but they were too busy-looking to bother, then he swung by his house to check on his personal corner of the garden, but his hot peppers and carrots were doing fine. No one interesting was at the bakery or the new teahouse ugh, he didn’t know any of the guards on the walls personally this town, and he couldn’t even find anyone behind the general store throwing dice is the worst. Finally, he wandered into an alleyway, one of the cramped, crooked little spaces between houses that had been put up too quickly and too closely, and took a seat, setting down the diminutive robot.

“So,” he whispered at Trips, “I know you’re not a hair-combing robot, but do you think you might be a hair-cutting robot?” The bot, whose light-sensitive strip went fully around its chassis for all-around vision, still seemed to look at him, then it carefully balanced on one limb, raising the other two in an exaggerated shrug.

“Good enough for me,” he muttered, reaching into his satchel and pulling out his short, sharp utility knife and twisting it around until it snapped into a pair of scissors. “Here’s what I want.”

After ten minutes or so of sheer terror oh man it moves so fast, Hunter made his way home and climbed up the side of his house to sneak into his bedroom. Standing in front of his small, dingy mirror, he honestly thought his hair looked pretty good with the sides slashed down to almost stubble and the top left as a wavy, frizzy mess. He craned his head to check the back, not as short as the sides, but cut into an almost perfect V pointed at the back of his neck, and then sighed.

“It was nice knowing you, Trips. I think Mom’s going to kill both of us.”

Hunter got ready for the party and practiced using his Infra screens while he was busy doing other things physically. His mom had said it was important to be able to navigate through the windows and notifications in the middle of anything, how she’d seen too many people get distracted by new information popping up at a bad time. He also appreciated how he could send and read messages while he was in the bath or brushing his teeth, unlike with the tablet.

You have entered the [Training Room for Bump] messaging group.

[Catherine Schmidt]: Hunter! How on Earth did you manage to create such an abomination of a message when you’re on a neural interface?

[Catherine Schmidt]: I’d almost be impressed if I wasn’t so horrified.

[Catherine Schmidt]: I will answer any questions that I can decipher, however, because I love you.

[Catherine Schmidt]: First, Infra is not hijacking your body or your muscle memory. It’s all you, bump. That feeling you might be getting, people call the “offload.” See, Infra isn’t just connected to your brain through the one conscious interface. It’s hooked into your brain and body in a lot of places, and one of the things you’ll start noticing is that you might find yourself acting quickly in a manner that you while you certainly could do, doesn’t feel like what you would do.

[Catherine Schmidt]: It’s not nearly as scary as it sounds, though!

[Catherine Schmidt]: Do you remember when you were very small, and your father taught you rock-paper-scissors? You practiced the hand signs every chance you got.

[Catherine Schmidt]: Even though your adorably chubby fingers had trouble with scissors.

[Catherine Schmidt]: But, every time you challenged your dad, you threw rock. Every single time, bump. The human mind works like that sometimes. It says, “This works fine, I know how to do it well, it’s not optimal, but I’m pressed for time,” and then instead of making the correct decision, or any decision, you throw rock.

[Catherine Schmidt]: But now your brain is connected to a computing device, that if it had a proper size, would be bigger than any universe we can imagine. It literally fills multiple dimensions.

[Catherine Schmidt]: And when you offload, you’re taking some of that computing space for your own to make an optimized decision from all the options you have, not just the first thing that feels right. Your mind, body, and Infra are all working together now, making better decisions. It’s going to feel weird for a while, but trust your mother, it’s all you.

[Catherine Schmidt]: The skill boost question, I don’t have a proper answer to. Ernie, thoughts?

[Ernie Hallahan]: Wow, Cat. Let me write all that down for next time someone asks me the same question. All that teaching’s really working out, isn’t it?

[Ernie Hallahan]: Ok, so, kid. I’m going to have to back you up one step before I answer what a percent boost does. The first rank of a skill’s what anyone could probably do, given practice and a solid understanding.

[Ernie Hallahan]: Most folks get stuck around 90-95 when they’re learning on their own, because repetition won’t get you much past that. You can’t be 100 in something without options for edge cases. The fact you got 100 in dodge means my devil woman of a sister’s probably had you stand on a log or in a tight corner to do those exercises of hers.

[Ernie Hallahan]: Probably both.

[Ernie Hallahan]: So, at 100, Infra’s thinking that no matter what gets thrown at you, you’ve got a handle on it. For dodge that means getting attacked, for other skills it’s similar.

[Ernie Hallahan]: But over 100, the advanced and refined levels and beyond, that’s special. Those are essence numbers at that point. 130 in dodge ordinarily means you’re at the peak of how could someone could possibly be at avoiding attacks as a regular person, plus they’re a straight 30% faster.

[Ernie Hallahan]: Whether that’s essence pumped into your muscles, extra processing speed on the offload so everything else slows down, or whatever. It depends on the advanced skill you take, which usually depends on your class.

[Ernie Hallahan]: But percent bonuses, that’s a little different. Short answer: it’s shenanigans.

[Ernie Hallahan]: Medium answer: Your offload’s going to be running smudgy parallel processes on about a six-second window on either side of each decision tree, and yeah that’s basically time travel, and yeah we try to never talk about it.

[Ernie Hallahan]: But the end result, if you could grok the math, if anyone could, means that you’ll be succeeding an extra 30% of the time.

[Ernie Hallahan]: Oh, and long answer: about a ten year degree in quantum manifold theory.

[Ernie Hallahan]: How did you possibly not know any of that, Cat? Haha jk.

[Catherine Schmidt]: You know I always run [Unerring Strike] and [Perfect Block]. No one’s even attempted to do the mathematical models for those, as far as I know. But Hunter’s going to try something different, so I haven’t recommended them, yet.

[Hunter Redsmith]: ->Mom. i wrote that message the same way you taught me to do everything, with hard work, dedication, and practice. took me four tries!

[Hunter Redsmith]: sry, tho. won’t happen again.

[Hunter Redsmith]: and thx, Mom, Ernie. i don’t understand hardly any of that, but, umm. It’s reassuring? yeah.

Having just finished trying to digest the explanations he’d received, Hunter stood in his bedroom, looking down at the clothes his mother had laid out for the party. They were very too nice, that was easy to admit, but he had a hard time thinking they were worth the bother. The gray pants were very soft and fit him well, but he doubted they’d survive one trip shimmying up the wall, or a hit from a crackler, or just about anything he did on a daily basis. The shirt was just bad news all around, though. Buttons, creases, and a collar didn’t suit him one bit, but he put it on and tucked it in anyway Mom’s usually so nice, what happened.

He rolled up the sleeves and left the collar undone at the top, put on the bracelet with his staff and his necklace, even though the camera function had burned out a year or two back still snazzy. Then, he headed downstairs in his socks no shoes in the house, with Trips draped over his shoulder, limbs holding on with gentle pressure against his chest and back. He tried coming up with something to say, to head off the haircut issue, but with each step down his mind blanked further throw rock. He didn’t even get a chance though, because he caught it as soon as he walked into the open living and dining space where his parents were getting things ready.

“Hunter!” his mom gasped, “What is that? And what did you-?”

“I think it’s a mohawk? At least that’s what Dad called it,” he mumbled in reply, skipping the easy question about Trips.

“Henry, did you know something about this? On the day of his party?”

“What? No. Hey, Hunter, don’t drag me into this.”

“No, no. Umm, I heard Dad say it a long time ago,” he said as he held up his hands in surrender. “I just, umm. You know. I wanted to look cool for when I go to the big city.”

“Oh, bump,” his mother sighed as she walked over to give him a hug. Then, she held him firmly by the shoulders and tilted her head as she looked at him from up close. “In that case, it’s just fine. I gave myself a much worse haircut my first day of high school. And of college.”

His dad had moved up alongside, and gave the hair left on top of his head a good ruffling. “I think it looks cool, don’t worry. Kansas City’s not going to know what hit it.”

The party, Hunter reflected afterward, was fine. The redoubt had missed out, years ago, on successfully celebrating the fact that Willard had raised its first child from birth all the way to adulthood, so he figured this was its second chance. At least, that’s what he and Miracle complained about as they huddled in the corner of the garden, every time someone came up to congratulate the both of them.

There were people everywhere too many all night too long, as well. The crowd went from the garden in the small yard, through the side door into the kitchen, absolutely packed the open family space, and spilled out onto the front porch. Hunter saw almost literally every person he’d ever met in passing, not the whole town by any means, but a good portion of the first wave that had fled to Willard in the beginning in the same group as his father, and then even more who’d become just as much of the inner circle as the earlier group. The Bears, their family doctor, Mr. Jenkins and the other more successful farmers, they all mingled past, invariably made some chuckling comment about his hair, his name, or both, and moved on.

He did get a present, though, and it was a huge one. Apparently, almost everyone that came to the party had chipped in, months back, to commission a jacket from the same armorer who had made his mom’s long vest. It was, if Hunter was forced to admit, possibly the coolest gift he’d ever received, even over Trips and his wizard stick.

At first, when they had him try it on in front of everyone so embarrassing, he thought it was one of those dreadful “you’ll grow into it situations,” since the cuffs went down to the middle of his fingers and the hem stopped low on his thighs. His mother assured him it was the style that provided the most protection, and that it was adjustable for when he did get taller. Other than the length that he’d have to get used to, it fit him very well. The smooth, dove gray fabric was very soft on the inside and tough on the outside, and the entire garment including the hood was structured around a pattern of weird ribbing inside the fabric that was supposed to lock up and absorb impacts from any direction. It even had the odd, white pinprick lights around the shoulders like his mom’s did, and a few right over his forehead on the hood.

Miracle sat out on the riverbank, after they’d slipped out of the dwindling crowd, while Hunter slowly walked through his forms in his new armor, dress clothes, and a pair of old canvas sneakers, making sure the long jacket didn’t restrict his movements. He stopped when he heard his older friend speak, in a low voice.

“So,” Miracle said, staring out across the water, “you’re heading out in the morning, huh.”

“Yeah, umm,” Hunter pulled back his hood and came over to sit with the older teen. “Just for a couple months, I guess. However long it takes for my mom to think she won’t have to keep an eye on me anymore. Can’t be too long, right?” he trailed off with a weak chuckle.

“Sure, but who says you’ll even come back. Ellie, now you,” Miracle’s voice became incredibly soft at the end, “first my mom, really.”

“It’s not like that, umm, not really. I’ll be back, I know where I belong. Besides, you’re not stuck here, man. You’ve got that networking thing lately. I hardly see you anyway.” Miracle had, not long after he got his class, started a group of younger defenders from redoubts all around the area. They coordinated using the summon network to work together shutting down Slides, booking time on Sources, and occasionally actually defending when a settlement was getting undue attention from monsters.

“I guess. I dunno. It feels like we could’ve made a plan together, a long time ago, the three of us, and we didn’t. Instead, we made separate ones and I can’t remember why. I’m gonna head home. You take care of yourself, Schmidt.” Miracle squeezed his shoulder as he stood before walking back to the town. Hunter stayed at the river for a while after.

He wondered if Miracle was overreacting or not. It didn’t matter, really, because he knew that feelings mattered no matter where they came from, but he didn’t know if it was something he could have fixed. Hunter had known for a long time that he was going to leave Willard gotta run, and everyone around him had seen it gotta get out, even though he tried not to make a big deal out of it. There was a brief, particularly moody period when he was fourteen where he made sure to announce, often and explicitly, exactly how fast he was going to make tracks, but that didn’t count. It just never felt like a choice to him. He was going to leave in the morning to face the world and never look back, because that’s what he needed to do.