෴Raz෴

෴Midnight෴

෴Hex෴

෴Brock෴

෴Nicolette Stilt-Ivaldison෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Anger Management

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

As the door shut behind Sia, Raz wondered at her icy demeanor.

What’s got her all bent out of shape? Dammit! Why does she have to get all moody now of all the times?

The pulses of easy anger were already more recognizable, making them slightly easier to control.

I wonder how I got here, anyway? Either way, I’ve slept and laid around long enough. It’s time to get up. If I discover I’m too hurt for that, I’ll burn that bridge when I come to it.

[Diagnose is not yet available, your guess is as good as mine.]

This whole berzerker rage thing is crazy. In the future, I need to avoid that like the plague. How long till Somatic Restoration comes online?

He scratched his itching chin. The ache in his muscles reminded him of the sort of sore stiffness of a hard day’s work.

Nice! My arm actually works now, and moving doesn’t hurt too much. Stiff, sore, but I can live with it.

[Estimated return of Might, White Fire, Somatic Restoration, in thirty minutes, plus or minus who the hell knows.]

The surprised laughter sent dull aches through his abdominal muscles. Nothing like he’d felt earlier just trying to breathe and talk. A visceral anger responded to the pain.

Hah, part of me wants to be mad, but I’m going with humor. Ok, well we’ll check back in half an hour. For now, mobility testing.

He carefully rolled over, expecting the same blades of pain he’d felt the first time he tried. The anticipated stabbing pain didn’t really come. Every muscle felt deeply sore, an aching stiffness more akin to recovering from a brutal workout than the feeling of trying to force badly torn flesh to move he’d felt before. He still felt plenty of soreness in his joints and connective tissue, but the sharp pain he’d felt deep in his bones had faded.

[This is correct, based on sensory input, rather than Diagnose, skeletal recovery is 80%+, structural connective tissue recovery is 60%+, skeletal muscular recovery 50%+.]

Pop quiz, why is my recovery the opposite of how people normally heal? Bones should have been the last to recover, on par with ligaments, usually slower. Muscles should have recovered the fastest.

[I prioritized deep structural repair for Recovery. After you fell asleep, I realized that fully repaired muscles, attached to a damaged skeletal structure, might just be a recipe for disaster.]

“What the hell are you trying to say?!” he blurted out.

A surge of irrational irritation flashed through him, and with significant effort, he redirected the impulse to anger into humor. Each soft chuckle hurt a little less than the one before it.

Yeah, good point. I might have just jumped up and started… Well, I don't know, doing something ill-advised. You know, like, getting out of this bed!

He slid out from under the blankets and sat up. Each movement felt raw and tender, but without the flesh grinding on flesh he’d felt before. His bare feet felt tender on the tile floor, like touching a freshly healed wound. The bottom of his dress went taut around his thighs as he turned on the bed.

Dress? I’m wearing a dress? What the hell kind of frat house bullshit is this? Am I going to find stuff drawn on my face too? Oh, and no underwear. This is lovely. If this is a prank, someone is going to pay!

Anger surged at the idea of being played for a fool, taken advantage of. He rode it for a few seconds before letting it go.

Starting to think I need anger management therapy.

[When time allows, seeking out professional help would probably be a good thing.]

‘When time allows’ Why do I get the feeling that’s never going to happen. Not so long ago it felt like time was just whizzing by, it seemed like I’d be thirty soon enough, then forty right around the corner. Now I’m not sure I’ll survive till tomorrow, and each day feels like a month.

He absently rubbed at his face, scratching under his beard, savoring the aching tenderness in each movement. It felt like the kind of stiffness you wake up with after a hard day’s work, something that would work its way out if he could just get moving.

This is probably what being old feels like.

He braced himself between the bed and wall, and stood up on shaky legs. In the moment, he welcomed the anger-fueled adrenaline that felt integral to staying on his feet.

Raz was reasonably sure his trip down the short hallway didn’t actually take very long. He walked in a sort of half falling, half staggering way, on legs like wet noodles. The trip to the far door was a sliding lean along the wall. All this gave him the feeling like the walk of a few normal steps took a long time. Long before he reached the door, he could hear and sense what was happening in the room ahead.

Brock and Nicolette were sitting with Midnight and eating while they chatted. They mostly talked to each other, bouncing engineering ideas between them. Nicolette spoke the language of physics, Brock brought the engineering experience, and Midnight filled in some gaps with his otherworldly insights into metallurgy.

Those three seem pretty damn chummy. Makes me wonder how well they really know each other. Brock said Midnight killed dad, but he seems pretty friendly now. He made it sound like he was close to dad, so what does that mean?

The memory of the old news footage, showing Doktor Midnight blasting the collapsed building beneath him with argent beams of light flashed back through his mind, triggering a fresh surge of fury he couldn’t redirect.

Leaning against the wall, he breathed faster and faster, trying to get himself back under control. His pulse soared, the noise of his own heartbeat a low roar in his ears.

[We still cannot survive another Berserk event. You need to stay in control!]

Too weak to—FIGHT—fight right now. Need to get—KILL—to the truth. Midnight wasn’t lying when—DESTROY—he said he didn’t murder dad. CRUSH AND BURN THEM! Shut the hell up! I’m in charge here, not the idiot rage junkie I stupidly let in.

To his surprise, the rising anger seemed to listen, and within a few seconds, his breathing and heart rate had returned to normal.

Ok, no more rage at the wrong time. Are we clear on that?

There was no sense of the message being received, so he just let out a small sigh and opened the door.

Unaware of the inner battle being fought in the adjoining hallway, Nicolette, Brock, and Midnight continued to talk shop. The married couple quickly got excited about the idea they were working up. Even Midnight seemed interested enough that his morose tone perked up a bit. Raz’s scan confirmed that the man’s mood was still dark, on the precipice of existential despair.

Hex was filling a plate with food from a buffet counter just outside the kitchen. With her back to the door, she was the last one to react when he pushed the door open.

“So if I’m following you guys, you’re talking about a portable vehicle? Something that folds up small enough to keep in your pocket? What propels it? Where does all the mass go?” She said, half turned away from the group.

The three at the table turned to watch as he staggered in, leaning on, or gripping tightly to, every shelf and display case along the way.

“What, am I way off? Give me a hint then, I’m not an—oh.” She turned and spotted him.

Raz forced a smile and gestured to the dress. “So, are you planning to pass me off as a girl and marry me off?” He shook his head of shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, “I seem to be developing a good head of hair for it.”

They all kept staring at him in shocked silence.

“Uh, hello? That was a joke. Damn, doesn’t anyone know their mythology? Mind if I get some food?”

“How are you even out of bed!? How are you walking?” Hex finally sputtered out.

Raz grabbed hold of the next display case and took another shaky step. “What do you mean? I’m feeling much better.” His shaking legs didn’t lend much credence to his assertion.

Brock was shaking his head. “I would not have believed it.”

Midnight looked at Hex. “Well, you were right about his healing. He must have pretty good regeneration if he’s up and around this fast.”

Raz fell into a chair, relieved to be off his feet. “No, if my healing ability was working, I’d already be—” he looked at Hex, “What the hell? I thought talking about abilities was all secret and ‘need to know’? Does that only apply to you telling me things?”

She flushed, then pointed at Midnight. “Well excuse me for trying to find ways to get mister ‘We don't have time for this’ to prioritize finding you.”

Raz shrugged, feeling the ache in his neck and upper back. “I don’t much care, just saying, you said we don’t do that.”

She put the loaded plate in front of him, “No, I said WD40 doesn’t do that. I always thought it was a dumb way to be, I just got a little sucked into their culture that way.”

He thought about that, then nodded. “Ok then.” With that, he tore into the food.

By the time she’d filled her plate, he’d emptied his. With a wry smile, she traded plates with him and headed back to fill another.

Brock moaned. “Not again! Now with the two of you, you’ll eat me out of house and home!”

Raz looked up from his plate, his gaze flicking over Brock and the ladies, before settling on Midnight. “Two of us. So, about that. I heard a few things you said while I was resting. Some of those things made me wonder if I’m just totally out of the loop, or if we’ve got a whole new cluster of secrets to be untangled.” A rogue pulse of anger rose up in him, that he couldn’t be sure wasn't just his own.

As he spoke, he glanced at the far end of the workshop near the rifle without a barrel and the ostentatious belt of metal links with the large bronze disk. Right above the hammer resting in the divot on the damaged steel floor was the clock he’d seen last time. As soon as he spotted it, the time display on his HUD came to life.

Midnight frowned, but nodded. “Yes, I think we do need to make sure we’re all on the same page,” he looked at Hex, “You’re right. I don’t have time for this. If I had even a little more energy I’d be out of here. I need to find a heavy hitter. I can’t risk going back to Mercator without backup.”

Mercator. That’s a kind of map, but where have I heard that word recently?

As he spoke, Raz glanced at Hex, then watched Brock and Nicolette’s faces. He swallowed another bite of eggs and sausage, then turned to Midnight. “Now see, that's the kind of thing we need to all be on the same page with. They might be too polite to say anything, but I could tell that our hosts here have no idea what you’re talking about, although Hex does,” he looked at Brock and Dr. Stilt-Ivaldison with a small nod, “They seem like good people. We should probably decide if we’re keeping secrets from them, or not.”

[Note, this food contains elevated levels of catalyst.]

“Thank you. You’re a good egg.” Brock said with a wink.

Well that’s good right? How nice… I’m apparently a good egg.

[It’s very good. Don’t get excited, it's still not very much, just quite a bit more than one would expect from eggs and sausage.]

Midnight sighed and looked at Hex. “You see? This is why I keep things to myself. Small hints turn into questions, which turn into small reveals, which turn into more questions, which turn into more and bigger reveals, and eventually I’ve wasted all day telling someone a long involved story that doesn’t help them at all, and probably just gives them more questions.”

Hex sat back down with her food, then sighed and traded it with Raz’s once again empty plate. Back at the buffet, she turned toward Midnight with an unreadable expression.

“You said you need a heavy hitter. You keep talking like you don’t know anyone up to that. Are we pretending he can’t help? You saw what I saw, right?” she pressed him.

Midnight shrugged. “I don’t know what I saw. Once that building started coming down, all I could focus on was slowing the collapse. You said yourself, they were doing some kind of experiment there.” He paused and looked from Hex over to make eye contact with Raz, before looking back at Hex.

“We don’t know what happened in there. Besides, he can barely walk, and no matter what, I need someone combat ready,” he looked at her meaningfully, “besides, we both saw that teleportation. You know better than I do, how useful a teleportation ability is against Mercator.”

Raz scowled at Midnight. “You should know, ‘he’ doesn’t like being discussed as if ‘he’ isn't even present. Also, just so I’m clear, Mercator is a person?” Raz asked around another bite of eggs.

Something about the way MIdnight said the name Mercator kept tugging at a stray thought for Raz, like he’d heard it before, but said slightly differently.

Midnight furrowed his brow. “Even that’s a loaded question with an unhelpful answer. Yes, no, sort of, but definitely not!”

Raz put his fork down and looked Midnight in the eye. “You’re right. That answer doesn’t help at all. You say you keep secrets because not doing it takes up so much time. Have you ever considered that your style of giving poor quality, half-assed answers might be part of why you spend so much time with these minor questions?”

Midnight’s expression betrayed that maybe he hadn’t given this enough thought. While he thought about that, Raz kept turning the word ‘mercator’ over in his mind.

Mer cay tor, Merc a tor, Mer cator. Why is this sound so familiar?

Midnight turned to Raz, interrupting his internal reverie. “You say you’re looking for a more open exchange. Perhaps you’d like to lay your cards on the table.”

Hmm, so you can conveniently ‘run out of time’ and take off? I feel like we’ve played this game before.

Raz took another bite, then looked to Hex. “What do you think dear?” The flash of anger on her face when he called her ‘dear’ was unexpected, and threw him off balance. “Can I trust him not to bolt the second I’ve told you guys what I know?”

She looked at him, then Midnight, then back again. “Well, I suppose I trust him about as much as I trust you.”

Why did that sound and feel like she was saying she doesn’t trust either of us at all? You know what, to hell with it. I might as well ask him about what Brock said now.

[This is ill advised! Don’t confront him now!]

Brock flat out said he killed Dad! I cannot just ignore that!

[But Midnight said he didn’t, and there were no signs of deception!]

Raz pushed himself away from the table and leaned back in his chair. “Hey folks, can I just be blunt for a second here?” He glanced around the room at the four of them to ensure he had their attention, but didn’t wait for any response.

[I know you’re feeling more impulsive, but can you at least wait until you’re healthy and your abilities are available?]

The logic of his argument couldn’t be argued.

Ok, that’s a good point. He seems more or less reasonable, but if this turns into a fight I can’t afford to go in hurt and unarmed.

His mind raced to come up with something that fit his build up. “So, are we all on the same side here or not?”

Merca ytor, Merc a door.

The room went silent. He glanced around the room. Hex looked shocked. Midnight seemed to be weighing what he’d said. Nicolette seemed confused. Brock looked amused, the wide grin under his bushy beard vibrating as though he was barely suppressing laughter.

[Well, that’s one way to start this conversation.]

Midnight finally nodded. “In the big picture, all of humanity is on the same side.”

As the others started to nod in agreement, Raz shook his head. “Agreed, I guess. But let’s try to answer my question without resorting to fortune cookie wisdom. I’m serious. There’s this onion of secrets bullshit happening here that needs to stop. Too many layers and details and secrets. You say we’re on the same side. If that’s true, then why is everyone holding back what they know?”

No one said a word. He shook his head. “Look, I’m not even saying I’m not just as guilty. Glass houses and all.”

Midnight and Hex shared a sudden meaningful glance.

Raz pointed at them both, his shaky arms robbing him of any dramatic poise. “You see!? That look you two shared right there! I say something, and you two have this brief moment of understanding. I—” a fit of coughing consumed his words.

When he finished coughing and cleared his throat, no one had said anything. He shrugged and continued. “So tell me, In the last few minutes you two have had that little shared understanding regarding someone, something, somewhere, called Mercator, and now glass houses? Are they related? What’s the big secret?” He took a sip of his water. “In fact, I’ll practice what I preach. Full disclosure, I can tell when people lie.”

[Not for sure. You only have a 95% confidence with Hex, a 90% confidence with Midnight, and 86% and 74% confidence with Brock and Dr. Stilt-Ivaldison respectively. Increase host perceptual abilities or spend more time with them to increase confidence.]

Yeah, well, they don’t need to know any of that. Also, are you digging up the old hits or something? I haven't run into that message for a while.

[So you’re going to start out the big ‘we’re all being honest’ with a lie? Also, that and similar messages come up all the time, you just have many HUD messages minimized and completely ignore them.]

Raz screamed his frustration inside and felt like punching something. Fine. I guess I’m a hypocrite. Taking the time to explain all that to them wouldn’t help this conversation along.

Midnight and Hex shared another look.

Raz sighed. “Well, I guess this is where you two decide how things are going to be. Are we allies that share information, or just people who happen to be working together at the moment?” With that, he took another bite of breakfast, “By the way Brock, this sausage is fantastic! What’s it made of?”

Brock smiled. “It’s my own recipe. A sort of local delicacy. I make it from Subterradente and a bunch of herbs, spices, and plenty of MSG.”

Raz parsed that while Nicolette suppressed a smile.

“Under–ground–teeth? Oh… is this made from those landsharks you have around here?”

Brock smiled. “It is. They taste quite good. The meat grills up wery nicely as vell, it’s a delight.”

Raz nodded slowly. “Yeah, I met some enormous insects around the African anomaly, kinda like praying mantises with swords for arms, I call them Slaying Mantises. It turned out they taste like a cross between crab and lobster. Pretty good stuff. I wonder if all the incursion beasts are so tasty?”

[You do not call them that. You’ve literally never called them Slaying Mantises before now.]

This isn't the time to nitpick me! Besides, it’s better than ‘sword-bug’. I’m going with Slaying Mantises from now on.

Midnight jumped in. “They are. I haven’t tasted any of them that weren’t good eating. The only one I haven’t tried is the glassholes. They might be good, but I’ve never tried them.”

Raz flicked a glance at Hex then looked at Midnight. “So, speaking of glass… holes? Before we get distracted, what's the story about glass houses and or Mercator?”

Midnight shook his head with a resolute expression, his gaze flickered at Hex for a fraction of a second. “Hell no. The story, such as it is, around ‘Glass houses’ isn’t all that important, but it’s not my story to tell. I’m not getting involved. I will tell you that glassholes are what I call the things that come out of the Himalayan Incursion. A kind of shiny, glittery snake-like thing that forms itself into larger creatures that work cooperatively. Actual pain in the ass to fight there. Hard to see against the snow and ice.”

Hex scowled at Midnight, then looked to Raz without her expression softening much at all. “As for the other thing, I’ll tell you all about it later if you like.”

Midnight didn’t say a word to that, but everything about his body language was screaming out, ‘yes, please have that conversation in private!’

Brock and Nicolette didn’t seem to know what they were talking about. They also seemed surprisingly ok with it. This made Raz wonder for a moment, if he was digging into secrets a little too hard. A moment later, he discarded that idea as ridiculous.

Midnight started to speak, Hex beat him to it. “He’s saying it’s my story to tell. He and I were talking outside just a bit ago. I was venting at him, and he asked me some pointed questions in return,” she paused, suddenly looking surprisingly vulnerable, “That got me thinking about things in another way, and that's when I realized I need to hear you out on some things before rushing to judgement.”

Judgement? That sounds ominous.

He started to reply, but she put a hand up to forestall him, “But seriously, he’s right about this. It’s a conversation better had in private. I promise, we’ll all prefer it that way.”

Raz nodded, and decided to let that one go for now. “Ok fine, we can discuss that one later in private, but I’ll hold you to it. Moving on, what about Mercator? What or who or where is that?”

Hex and Midnight exchanged another glance.

Raz let out a heavy sigh. “Seriously?! If we can't even answer simple questions amongst ourselves, that makes me think we’re really not on the same side, no matter what you say.”

The soft sound of several internal chimes rang in his mind.

[All abilities now online.]

Oh hell yes!

He looked at the two of them with unfeigned frustration. “You know what, I gotta hit the head, so I guess here’s your chance to get your stories straight.”

He struggled to his feet, much less steady than he would have liked, suddenly reminded of the light summer dress he was wearing.

Oh yes, this outfit is probably not helping me inspire them to share.

He looked at Hex, “I don’t suppose you could bring me some clothes?”

She tried and failed to suppress an amused grin. “I totally would. You really don’t have the figure to pull off that dress,” she glanced at the toroidal device that Brock used to project his doors, “But no can do. I might have another day or two before I can do more than line of sight.” she looked at Brock and Nicolette, “The door was very appreciated, and quite timely. But they do play havoc with my internal sense of space.”

Raz caught Midnight absently nodding in agreement.

I need to get a complete analysis of that guy. How many abilities does he even have? Too many mysteries.

He sighed and made his way back to the bathroom. His legs were marginally more steady now than they’d been on the way in, but he still leaned against everything he could along the way.

[For talking about setting up an honest exchange, you’re engaging in a lot of deception yourself. Why are we really going to the bathroom?]

Why are you asking? Don’t you know?

As he reached the door, Brock caught up with him. He pressed a dark gray heavy bundle of slick-feeling fabric into Raz’s hands.

“You vere being truth vhen you said you had those gloves for only two veeks, yes?”

Raz nodded, confused at where the question was going.

“Yeah, I didn’t have them for long,” he thought of the instructions he’d left with Fidel, “I uh, left them with a friend for the moment.”

Brock nodded solemnly. “Vear this. Es ist not a complete outfit, but besser als being naked.”

Raz took the bundle, but Brock didn’t let go of it. The short hairy man looked at him with an intense gaze. “This one is hungry, but not so hungry as my other creations.” he whispered.

Raz stared down at the surprisingly heavy garment as Brock let go of it. “Thanks.”

Brock was already heading back to the table.

Raz staggered back to the guest room.

Not so hungry? What was that all about?

On the bed, he lay down, dropped into slow time, and got to work. Diagnose revealed what he’d already felt to be true. At first, he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. It was like he was seeing himself with the diagnose ability, but somehow he was blurry. Once he zoomed in, it became clear what he was actually looking at. His body was riddled with what he decided to call micro damage. There wasn't a millimeter of muscle, bone, or connective tissue without a tiny tear or stress fracture. He was relieved to see that his spinal cord and brain were both in good shape, with none of the damage that seemed to be everywhere else. Upon further inspection, his internal organs seemed to be relatively untouched as well.

That’s probably a good thing. Not sure how much damage a heart can take before it stops working. Don’t want to find out either.

The stress fractures were nearly healed, which was in line with what Bee had done after he went to sleep.

Looks like prioritizing bone was a good call, Bee.

[Thank you. I have read more of the notes regarding Might and Berzerk in particular. This is something you should know, and may explain the odd injuries.]

[The following represents a summary of notes, and may not be complete.]

[Berzerk: Temporarily remove all mental and physical inhibitions. Amplifies all possessed abilities connected to the Might tree. Ability function reverts to instinctive use. Damage incurred from all sources is dispersed and spread across all bodily structures aside from the internal structures critical to life, and any internal cognition and communication structures.]

So basically, it spreads any injury out into my whole body, except nerves and some organs?

[That seems to be the thrust of it. There are many more notes on the topic, from the insane to the theoretical. The summary represents the most commonly agreed on characteristics.]

Hmm, that’s a lot to think about, but it explains why I feel so torn up everywhere, but don’t seem to have any particularly bad injuries.

[It could have been much worse. One of my last memories before things went red was Recovery being activated. I don’t know how long it remained in use, but I suspect it may have been running for a good part of the time I was incapacitated. Before you ask, I have no idea why it came back online faster than everything else.]

Generally speaking, that sounds like a good thing! Recovery is just a boost to natural healing right? So if any incoming damage is spread out across my body, Recovery is a good tool for dealing with that.

[Agreed. One might wonder how long the recuperation from a Berzerk event would take without passive healing abilities.]

Now that you mention it, they seemed kind of surprised that I was up and around. Let’s see if we can surprise them even more. Side note. Berzerk says it amplifies all abilities connected to the Might tree. But if the HUD ability Synergistic Interfacing connects and amplifies all abilities, does that mean all my abilities are connected to each other? I feel like it must mean that. That would explain being able to /see/ with White Fire, and Somatic Restoration.

[Yes. Very much so.]

Nice we should look at that later. For now, time to get back to work.

He pulled up the impossibly long list of micro-damage injuries. After a subjective hour in slow time of stitching small splits and ruptures in tendons and muscles, patching up the occasional microfracture bad enough to make the list, he had an epiphany.

Bee, you’re able to use my abilities on my behalf, right?

[Of course. I have done so on many occasions. Is there a problem with that?]

No, no problem. But, your question brings me to something else I’ve noticed lately. Level with me. It seems like you’re not always quite on the same page with me anymore. Sometimes you get me, like we’re of one mind, and other times, like just now, it’s like you don’t know what I’m thinking.

[You’re correct. Even as my insight into your intent and desire has increased, I have noticed an increase in moments when I only perceive your inner dialog as directed at me. No notes exist for the HUD ability, so I am not sure why this is.]

Do you see it as a degradation of function?

[It could be. It is concerning.]

Hmm, here’s a thought.

Raz mentally put himself in an imaginary battlefield, then thought out a series of complicated uses of White Fire followed by Somatic Restoration and preceded by HUD targeting actions. Lastly, he included the explicit instruction that this was only a dry fire test. Then he willed Bee to know the plan and help him execute it.

[Yes, I understand that plan. I also had full insight into your thoughts and planning as it went. I would not have required the explicit instruction not to actually invoke abilities in this test.]

Raz nodded to himself, then thought of his written instructions to Fidel and Dr. Patel. This time, he decided to keep it a secret from Bee.

Could you tell what I was thinking?

[No.]

It seems like a pointless feature, if it is one. I’ve gotten used to not having many secrets from you.

[I don’t see the value of it myself, but perhaps one will become clear. In any case, I presume from the way this came about that you had another question regarding my use of abilities.]

Oh yeah, so I had some thoughts about how to better use Somatic Restoration bouncing around my head lately. I’ll start with the pie in the sky stuff. Muscles are an odd mix of massed, tiny, weak hydraulics, and microscopic screw actuators. Nerves are electrochemical message relays. Bones are basically just chalk. Strong bundles of fibrous chalk, but at the end of the day, it's like the weakest stone around. Cell and tissue bonds are pretty weak when you get right down to it. So here’s what I’m wondering. Do you think I could use Somatic Restoration to alter how my body works? Maybe give myself some super strength, or speed, or even durability? They’ve already shown that durability enhancements change the fundamental ways that all those things work, and some of the materials used. What do you think?

Raz made sure he was sharing the entirety of this idea with Bee.

[My initial thought here is that even answering that question is way above my pay grade. If I couldn’t see how aware you are of the many ways that could go horribly wrong, I’d assume we were going to die soon.]

Oh yeah, it could go so wrong. What I’m thinking is, Might supposedly gives me some passive benefits now, right?

[Incorrect. The Might tree contains some passives. However, the rest of the Might abilities are neither passive nor active. They are classed as ‘triggered’ or ‘activated’ abilities. In the Might tree, only increases to Durability and Precision are truly passive.]

What exactly does that mean though?

[It means that you’ll gain the increases to physical durability and increases to your agility and general coordination and bodily control at all times, but only have other Might abilities when you want them.]

But why? And how does that even work?

[It means you always have the increased strength and speed, but you have to choose to use the abilities. Please bear in mind that you were very specific about not wanting passive strength increases, due to the high probability of injuring yourself or others.]

That's very true. Oh yeah, hugging someone right into the hospital, handshakes gone horribly wrong. No thanks. I have no desire to deglove my own hand, or rip a finger off, or any of the other nasty things I’ve seen people do to themselves. So how do I use them?

[Correct, your physical strength is now roughly four times what it was, and the ‘overall’ benefit, which affects: Durability, Precision, Strength, and Speed is a 100% increase.]

Does that mean I’m actually six times stronger? I don’t feel any stronger at all.

[No, the 400% total increase includes the ‘overall’ increase effect. Please note: With Strength currently above your other measures of bodily capabilities. At this stage, you can now easily hurt yourself if you make bad decisions while applying all your strength.]

Great, just the thing I wanted to avoid. I hope it being a manual activation helps avoid it.

[At the moment, you’re damaged enough that using your new full strength would certainly cause injury.]

Wasn't planning on it. But just so I’m clear, this all happened, with this Durability increase already in play?

[Yes.]

I guess it’s good to have it. I wonder what 100% Durability increase really translates into? Is it like the ‘General Durability Rank 1’ that people have more or less mapped out? Wait no, that can’t be right.

[No. The overall math for what people refer to as ‘General Durability Rank 1’, in as much as such a thing even exists, which it doesn't, would be much higher than 100%. Please keep in mind how lacking the very idea of ‘General Durability Rank 1’ is. There are many trees that provide various physical enhancements to durability, and most of them handle that durability in different ways.]

Yeah, I was just thinking about some of those tests that ended up on Bluetube back before Ability related content was de-monetized, then banned.

[There is no simple answer here. But you are correct to think that 100% increase in baseline Durability is relatively weak compared to ability trees that specialize in these abilities. The idea of ‘General durability’ usually includes the ability to withstand a small caliber bullet without significant injury. I do not think we can do that.]

But, isn’t that what Might is all about?

[Might is a General tree, that includes physical enhancements, and matches the other criteria you had in mind.]

Ok, we’re getting off track. This is what I was meaning to ask you. You can read through notes super fast, right?

[Mostly correct. I read nearly as fast as you do, when using slow time. However, this is largely because I am not reading things that require using eyes or anything physical that can become fatigued.]

And does it wear at you mentally, or bore you to do it?

[Not really. I don’t really get tired or bored. I suppose at some level, my expenditure of energy becomes your weariness. My boredom becomes your expenditure of executive function.]

So you’re the reason I find myself suddenly impatient sometimes? That explains so much! Which reminds me, we’ve never discussed it, but where does the extra energy come from?

[This is a—]

A wash of arcane symbols, half-glimpsed mathematical equations and what looked like static flowed across his vision at a very low level of transparency. He could still see the room around him, but the visual artifacts wiped out the HUD.

[ERROR: HUD: System/Host/User interface warning!]

[This topic is deemed lethal for hazardous environments.]

Uh Bee… What the hell was that?

[It is a warning that discussing this topic in combat is considered a fatal risk.]

Why would just talking about this be fatal? Is it a forbidden subject or something?

[This topic is not forbidden. However, you’ve asked a question to which there are in excess of 40 billion notes. Just accessing the whole of such a large chunk of information will slow down other activities, which could be deadly in a combat situation.]

Holy—

[Before you ask, I have not read even a fraction of a fraction of them. I recently realized that notes can be sorted in several different ways. I—I suspect you would have figured this out much sooner. However, now that I know, I was able to sort this vast quantity of notes by what amounts to ‘rated as being most useful’.]

That's fantastic!

[However, I should note two important caveats. #1, sorting notes takes time, but not nearly enough to account for doing it locally. This means the suspicion that we’re accessing some form of external ‘database’ has moved from speculation to near certainty.]

Well, I think we were both starting to lean that way. There has to be a limit on how much data you can encode even at a subatomic level. Well... maybe not assuming you could encode data at a subatomic level, then storage won't be an issue. As I think about it, if storage space wouldn't be the limiting factor, then access time and processing speed would have to be the big bottlenecks in that sort of situation, so you’re right, if it can sort that much data too fast, it’s probably ‘offsite storage and processing’ so to speak.

[#2 is simply that even the most useful notes are simply not that useful. They still talk around the answer, and most useful is sometimes simply ‘not completely wrong or misleading’.]

Noted. I assume you didn’t give me all that buildup to now shrug and tell me ‘I dunno’. So what's the answer?

[¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I dunno.]

Your sense of humor needs to work on it’s timing.

[Sorry, it’s funny because it’s got too much truth in it. I will tell you the prevailing theories, but in fact, I have no solid answer to give you.]

I guess that figures.

[It all boils down to: Catalyst users do require a much larger caloric intake, and it does seem to somewhat depend on the abilities they have, and how much they are used. Some abilities, White Fire being a good example, seem to be primarily about channeling existing energy from somewhere else, and harnessing it. Others combine a mix of generating the energy within the user, and harvesting the energy in the area. All abilities seem to be using more energy than there should be available from food, and ambient sources.]

[To answer this problem, there are two competing ideas. First, there is the idea that harvesting ambient energy is far more potent than imagined. Those who fall into this camp reference the entire electromagnetic spectrum, gravity, inertia, and several types of energy that we have no words for. They believe that ability users harvest small amounts of energy across a wide spectrum, thus not taking very much from any one source, but in their opinion, it provides more than enough ambient energy to explain ability use.]

Huh, never thought of it that way. I guess it’s related to the way I feel like I’m laying here perfectly still, but actually the Earth is rotating, the solar system is moving, the galaxy is rotating, and moving in space. The local cluster etc, and somehow it’s speeding up? Ok, so There’s a lot of inertia. Radio waves, the entire portion of the electromagnetic spectrum that passes right through solid matter. I don’t know, tachyons, gravitons, if gravity counts as energy, but I’ve read that at any moment, massive amounts of energy we can’t feel, touch or—

Raz enabled his full perception. White Fire—Electrosense, painting an image of pale blues and reds on a black background. Biosense showed him a veritable cloud of life around him, with the people in the nearby room showing up as colorful three dimensional models rendered with both Biosense and Electrosense.

[As a reminder, reducing White Fire to simply being electricity seems to be incorrect.]

Yeah, maybe so, but functionally it seems like electricity so far. So yeah, energy we can't feel, or touch, or see is surrounding me at all times. So I guess that makes sense.

[However, some maintain that due to the raw power of some high end abilities, this drain would be noticeable, and trackable, but have not been able to prove it. This is where the quantum holistic interconnectedness theory comes into play.]

I feel like there’s a Dirk Gently joke in there somewhere.

[These beings assert that Catalyst users draw on a nearly infinite web of interconnected energy that connects and binds them to all other things in the universe.]

Hey wait, I’ve seen those! Everything in me was connected to everything else when I went all ‘Innerspace’ on myself.

[Yes you have. I thought this last theory, despite being not widely accepted, might catch your interest for that reason.]

That is very interesting. Just out of curiosity, are there any who believe that all these theories are correct, or at least partially correct?

[Yes. It is a somewhat popular, if inherently noncommittal stance. Many notes also imply that the general answer to the energy question is ‘who cares?’]

I care! Knowing how things work is important.

Raz looked at the slowly advancing clock in the HUD and realized he’d wasted nearly thirty seconds of real time talking to himself, instead of fixing himself.

Ok, so anyway, too many rabbit holes! What I was originally trying to ask you is this. If you can use my abilities, and you're good at, and fast, with simple repetitive tasks. Can you help me by doing the same thing I’m doing, repairing this micro damage?

[I can. I do object to your characterization though. I am simply also good at simple repetitive tasks. As long as the problem is one you’ve solved before, and doesn’t require too much improvisation on my part, I could probably handle many of the tasks you do individually with Somatic Restoration. The main limitation I see is that I cannot use slow time, without putting you into slow time as well. I can access internal notes at close to slow time speed, but that’s different than actually using abilities that act on the real world at that speed. Speaking of slowtime, we’re about to return to normal reaction time.]

Right on! Let’s do it then! See how fast Team Raz and Bee can get me moving like I’m not an ancient and decrepit version of myself.

[I cannot.]

You just said you could!

[Well yes, but that was before you used the last of your catalyst. You didn’t have nearly enough to complete the job in the first place.]

Raz noticed the catalyst gauge was empty again. He felt and resisted the pulse of anger that tried to rear up and take over.

Dammit! I forgot slow time uses catalyst! Ok, so new plan, show me you can do it once we get more catalyst.

He yanked the dress off, and pulled on the skin-tight jumpsuit. The material was tight, and felt like it would be hot and stifling, not to mention stiff and constraining. As soon as it was fully on, things changed. Worn, the outfit felt light, breathable, and moved as easily as his own skin. It looked vaguely like the ‘double bag’ armor underlayment Hex had given him before the disastrous return to Braithwaite’s old facility. This outfit was clearly a little thicker, and incorporated some kind of internal hard plates. It was also a much darker color of gray than the pale, almost white-gray outfit he’d worn before. He liked the dark, storm gray outfit better than the pale, washed out color of the ‘double bag’ he’d worn before. Covering him with a skintight layer from neck to wrists and ankles, the only thing it was missing was boots and gloves.

Gotta get those gloves back.

He checked himself out in the mirror. Seeing his out of control hair and beard, he dug around the bathroom until he found a brush, then got both beard and his hair under control.

I gotta admit, this looks pretty cool. Those plates really make the outfit. It’s less leotard, and more futuristic space armor. Little more skin tight than I’m used to, and it still sort of feels like I’m naked, but it’s not bad!

He returned to the main shop area. At the door, he threw it open and strode through.

Four heads swiveled his way when the door flew open. Nicolette and Hex both looked him up and down quite deliberately. Brock gave Nicolette a playful elbow when he caught her gawking. Midnight looked him over, and appeared to be considering and weighing him once again. Brock was smiling broadly.

“Nice! I’ll admit it, you look yummy in that.” Hex said as she tried to suppress a smile.

“I knew it vould suit you.” The smith proclaimed, “It is not too demanding?”

I forgot to ask, is this suit drawing energy?

[It is, but it’s a drop in the bucket. If you want to try and fast charge it like we did the gloves and vambraces, we can do it.]

More food first. Or you can handle it and I’ll eat.

He went to the buffet, noticing it was nearly cleaned out. With a shrug, he took the rest of the food and piled his plate high. As he started to eat, he felt and almost heard the outfit hum as it absorbed power as fast as he could feed it. As he ate, he watched his catalyst creep up, then immediately go back down to zero.

Any problem handling the energy work and the microdamage?

[Not at all. At Advanced Interface 4, this level of multitasking is simple.]

Raz bit into another spicy sausage and looked over at Brock. “Question for you. When you turn those, sub-terra-dente things into this sausage, what do you do with the Catalyst sac?”

Brock looked confused for a moment, before a light went on in his head. “Oh, yes. I guess it is a sac. I drain the liquid, save it for my projects. It is quite important for making my devices. I don’t have much on hand, I’m sorry to say.”

Raz nodded and tried to conceal his disappointment. “That’s too bad. I could really use some.”

Midnight obviously wanted to say something, but just shook his head slightly and kept his own counsel.

“What do you use the rocks for?” Raz wondered aloud.

Brock shook his head. “I don’t use those. No use for solidified Catalyst.”

Raz perked up at this, a hopeful idea based on a painful memory starting to coalesce in his mind. “So, dare I ask where they would end up?”

Brock shrugged. “Who knows?”

Nicolette spoke up. “Honey, they end up with the bones. You’d know that if you ever cleaned out the bone bin.”

Brock took on an expression of long suffering. “First she vants me to help vith cooking. I create device that vill load an entire animal, use all parts, and produce many sorts of food and even save the hide,” he rolled his eyes, “then she said it’s too dangerous. As if I didn’t make it safe, and able to distinguish between human, or meat animal.” he shook his head as if so put upon, “Then, vhen it her turn, she no vant clean device. So I make entire device auto cleaning,” he looked over at Nicolette with a hangdog expression. “Then, vhen it her turn, she not vant clean out bone bin. So I make bone bin bigger, and make all bones totally clean before going to bin. Still, somehow must be my job to clean that out.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Yes, dear, but you created this admittedly wonderful device. But all I wanted was for you to spend some time with me in the kitchen when I cook,” she looked at Hex for support, “We take turns cooking, and he never seems to notice that I spend time with him while he cooks, but when I cook, he’s off playing in his workshop.”

Hex shrugged, clearly uninterested in getting involved in the discussion.

Brock looked genuinely surprised. “Vhy not just say that?”

The rest of them burst into laughter. Hex laughed harder than the rest. “Pro tip. If your wife expresses her dissatisfaction with something, don’t assume she wants you to solve it. Furthermore, even if she does want you to solve it, don’t assume a good solution in your eyes, is a good solution to her.” she said to Brock, while eyeing Raz the whole time.

Real subtle babe.

“So, those rocks. Can I have them?”

Brock started to answer, but Nicolette cut him off. “Yes dear, if you clean out the bone bin, of course you can,” she smiled mischievously, “In fact, I used to save them for tumbling and polishing. If you do a good job, I’ll give you all I have. They aren’t real rocks, so it turns out they don’t polish up very well at all.”

A few minutes of surprisingly easy work later, he’d cleaned out the bone bin. The bones were dry and clean, as were the small irregular shaped rock-like objects. When he finished, she presented Raz with two bags. The first, a larger bag, felt like it weighed about 2.286 pounds. It was full of small irregular chunks. The second bag was much smaller, weighing only 412g. This bag contained larger symmetrical chunks that resembled pearls.

Raz looked at the bags with wide eyes. “That is a lot.”

Midnight let out a dismissive huff. “It’s useless once it goes solid. You need Catalyst while it’s a liquid.”

Not confident enough to argue, Raz just shrugged. He borrowed a razor blade from Brock, and made a small cut on the back of his hand. With some squeezing, he forced a small pool of blood out onto the back of his hand.

The others looked at him with expressions ranging from curious to disgusted.

Please let this work the way I think it does.

Pinning his hopes on the partially dissolved Catalyst rock he’d found in a pool of his own dried blood, and the ignored absorb prompt from the night he’d lay at the foot of the cliff dying, he picked up one of the rocks and placed it on the blood. Nothing happened.

There was a soft sound of several people letting out breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.

I guess that was too much to hope—

The rock started to fizzle and dissolve. Raz gasped. Within seconds, the rock became a thick red gel, then even the red faded into a clear viscous fluid not unlike tree sap. He answered the ‘Absorb?’ prompt with an immediate yes and began to spread it out onto his skin.

Midnight let out a low curse and walked over to him. “I don’t believe it. How did I miss that?”

Raz ignored him, and looked at Hex. “Honey, we seem to have some stored up conflict, and I know we need to deal with that, but as soon as we can, I’d like to have a chat about your abilities.”

[Customized High Quality Upgrade Datastream absorbing.]

She swallowed, looked at the disappearing gel, and nodded.

As the Catalyst absorbed, he watched the level go up and down as Bee used more and more of it to cleanse him of the systemic micro damage. Within minutes, the translucent gel had vanished, leaving nothing behind.

Midnight held out a hand. “Can I have one?”

Raz tossed him one of the pebble-like Catalyst crystals. “Sure, have at it.”

He watched Midnight make a larger cut on his own arm, and the repeat of the dissolving stone. A moment later, the older man’s energy gain doubled. To Raz, even twice as fast still seemed like a very slow rate to energy regeneration. The way Midnight’s deeper cut vanished almost immediately didn’t escape his notice.

When his meter stopped dropping, Raz activated Diagnose, and verified he was as healthy as could be.

Nice work.

[I learned it all from you.]

I know, I was talking to me.

[Was that a joke or a burn?]

Raz smiled to himself. You really don’t know! I think I kind of like that. But for the record, it was a compliment, and a joke.

He looked at the bags, trying to imagine how much they might be worth as salable Catalyst alone.

I am so out of touch. I don’t even know what Catalyst sells for now. For that matter, the way things were going last time I checked, I wonder where it’s still legal?

Midnight glanced at Raz and did a double take, as though he’d suddenly noticed him. “Just how good is your regeneration ability? You were on the edge of death last night, your body was more injury than not. Brock put you in a machine that imaged and diagnosed you. The machine couldn't even count how many cracks and stress fractures you had. It literally crashed when he told it to inventory your injuries. Your bones were so covered in micro-fractures I still don’t see how none of them were full breaks. Your connective tissue looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to it, and your muscles looked like they’d been through a blender. You should have died from massive shock and whole body crush syndrome. Now you’re just up and around like it’s no big thing. I don’t mind saying, it’s very impressive.”

Raz nodded. “Thanks. It took me too long, but I’ve come around on the utility of healing abilities.”

Midnight thought about that. “Yeah, it took me a lo—. Anyway, you clearly know some things I don’t. Shall we compare notes?”

Oh now he wants to compare notes.

“Sure, you’re up first. The last time we sat down to compare notes. No. The last two times we tried to have this kind of chat, something happened and you bailed. So this time, you can go first.”

Midnight frowned, then nodded. “Just so you know, both of those events were real, and incredibly important.”

Earlier you mentioned I should slow down for a while on getting new abilities. Still true? I have so much Catalyst on hand, with plenty of capacity banked. It feels like I should use it while I can.

[My recommendation is to master the abilities you have first. You haven’t even tried Spark Gap, or the physical abilities of Might.}

Just the mention of Might was enough to summon a flicker of anger, but it tapered off and didn’t really go anywhere.

Mer cator Mir-cay-tor Mirc-ator.

“I believe you. I just can’t keep operating in the dark like this. There’s too much I don’t know,” Raz let out a deep sigh, “I’ve rushed off half cocked too many times. I’ve operated on imperfect information, basically, I’ve made all the mistakes. I can’t let luck be a factor anymore. I need to be two steps ahead of the enemy, instead of reacting to them.”

Midnight shook his head with a wry expression. “Wow, you sure you don't want to work in a few more I’s in there? You do realize that there is a lot happening that is bigger, and more important than just you, right? There’s a phrase, ‘it’s not all about you’. Have you heard it?”

As he listened to the rebuttal, rage flared. Raz jumped to his feet and pointed at Midnight. Unbidden, White Fire burst forth, surrounding his hand with a bright halo of crackling energy. “No! I don’t know. How could I? People like you keep deciding to keep everything a secret!” His voice rose to a shout.

Midnight shifted his stance to one of tight readiness. Metal weave clothing shifted and flowed. His light suit of armor formed around him nearly instantly.

Raz faced off against Midnight, White Fire crackling around his fist, his heart a war drum, pounding accelerando, louder, faster. Fresh surging rage flowed through him like a cleansing fire. The war hymn within him promised a glorious battle, followed by victory or death.