Sanctioned (Splintered Reboot; QAylor Crack Quest)

My muse got distracted by this, but I haven't yet decided if I'm going to have this be canon or not. Technically, it hasn't happened quite yet either way. Differences from Worm canon are deliberate. Side PSA: Fortress Construction is fanon.

---

Thomas Calvert of the PRT was having a bad day. Repeatedly.

It had started out well enough. Thanks to several throwaway timelines and an unhealthy amount of torture, he'd known to invest a not-insignificant portion of his assets into a seemingly-flagging company just in time to take advantage of the announcement of a popular game sequel. Even after paying off the broker he'd done it through, he'd still found himself a few million dollars richer. A quite respectable gain considering it only took a week of effort.

The rest of the day was moderately horrifying, but not in a way that truly affected him. Three individuals at Winslow High School had experienced brief seizures before falling unconscious. The school was promptly put into lockdown and the PRT called.

A fourth student had walked into class covered in blood, requested medical attention and a hazmat team in the toneless voice usually indicative of an active Master situation, and promptly fell over herself. The incident was caught on video and multiple students promptly shared it on social media.

Further investigation by the PRT revealed an active biohazard in the form of an insect-infested locker filled with blood, whereupon several CDC specialists were called in to advise. Subsequent testing revealed the presence of several STDs and the blood of several dozen different individuals on twice as many "feminine hygiene products."

Although Corona Pollentias are usually quite difficult to locate, this case seemed to be an exception. When you have past images of what their brains looked like, it's rather difficult to miss a significant amount of extra brain matter. Especially when a few portions were still growing in at least one victim. It helped that one of the victims was a ward, Shadow Stalker.

Still, none of that harmed an undercover supervillain, did it? Even assigning Tattletale in a throwaway timeline didn't give him anything new or disturbing. As far as he could tell, it was just a trigger event gone wrong.

After an otherwise uneventful day, he'd gone to sleep secure in the knowledge that none of his plans were truly harmed by the incident.

He woke up at the start of that very same day, promptly found he couldn't split timelines anymore, and reported a likely Master/Stranger situation on himself like the loyal PRT drone he was pretending to be. The usual confirmation questions were attempted, but stopped after he explained the apparent "simulation" he believed himself to be in.

No enemies made themselves known. No disguised Thinkers tried to not-so-subtly gain information from him. He went to sleep in a PRT cell and woke up back at home.

Once again, he reported the situation, but also brought several books along to keep himself occupied. They allowed it with good humor, albeit while warning him that he'd be using up his own vacation days.

This process repeated itself for another six boring days before he finally admitted something, somewhere, had gone horribly wrong. Cauldron, when called, seemed to take the threat seriously and grilled him over the events of the past subjective week. They seemed torn between doubt, telling him he had been in a simulation of some sort, and having ill-concealed existential concerns in case he was still in one. Just in case, they gave him a password and told him to report it should the event occur again.

It did. Their immediate response to being given the code was, of course, to give him another code and hang up on him. Calling the next day earned him a bullet even before he told them the damn thing.

At least neglecting to contact them seemed to protect from that particular fate. With each and every one of his preferred plans proved impractical, he resorted to desperate measures.

Calling Tattletale and explaining the situation? She calmly said she had no idea, hung up, and started laughing. Her own damn powers apparently killed her when he tried torturing better answers out of her the next day.

Spending well over a month consulting various Thinkers across the world? Numerous entertaining instances of existential terror, but no useful information.

Murdering the Winslow victims at the hospital just in case? Not only did that not work, but a disembodied voice sang The Song That Gets On The Nerves Of All to the entire city for the rest of that particular day. Some people were even convinced the Slaughterhouse Nine were screwing with them just prior to their usual attack.

Claiming he'd admit defeat and would turn himself into the PRT (as Coil) three times in a row? Still nothing, not even when he followed through. The offer to do so if the loop ended was similarly ignored.

Preparing for and then arranging the deaths of Kaiser, Lung, and even Skidmark? Nope.

Bombing Winslow before the triggers-gone-wrong could even occur? A repeat of the previous song. Since attacking the hospital pre-triggers gave similarly negative feedback, but Boston's hospitals didn't, Calvert was fairly confident it wasn't directly linked to the loop. Threatening to bomb much of the city if the singing parahuman didn't reveal themselves didn't work out either, nor did excessive bribery.

He couldn't find Scion to request aid no matter how many times he tried. As far as the world was concerned, Scion hadn't been seen since 2:33 AM, the time when Thomas's loop began and ended.

With no idea of what to do and unsure of when the loop would end, Thomas ultimately decided to do what he had always done before. Namely, exploit the world for personal gain. He still clung to hope that this was due to some twisted Second Trigger he didn't recall; the time loops would be better than his own power if he could actually control the damn things.

If the calendar ever changed, he'd be ready.



Meanwhile, back in the real world...

"Ma'am? Calvert just collapsed at his desk. We think he might've had a stroke."

QM's Note: I think I did well on the exam and projects I was working on, and with those out of the way, I'm now mostly-free for the next few weeks. Yaaaay. *falls over*

Now questing just has to compete with Warframe and Warframe platinum farming.

---

[X] Comply; cooperate with the medics. You expect to produce an awful lot of variants on "I believe I'm fine."
-[X] Demand the blood-cultist-hat in exchange.
--[X] Ask to receive the hat before you answer their questions and put it on.

You exhale and turn to face both non-hosts. Neither seems particularly angered by your previous decision to ignore them, only exasperated. If anything, the male wearing the cultist-hat seems amused. The emotion in question vanishes when you point at him.

"I will answer their questions in exchange for the hat he is currently wearing."

The non-host blinks and slowly reaches up, touching the hat without actually removing it. Verifying its presence? Preparing to hand it over? You're interrupted by an odd sound from Danny Hebert before you can find out which it is. You believe the subsequent word-tone combination is meant to convey exasperation.

"Taylor."

You mentally add another entry to Danny Hebert's list of sins. He should be helping you bargain, not challenging your decisions. If you cave now, others will believe they can force specific outcomes from you should they not like the answer given. Doesn't Danny understand how reputations work?

"Hat, please," you repeat firmly.

The female non-host leans toward her partner and assumes the tone of voice usually associated with stealth. You're not sure if letting you eavesdrop due to unusually high volume was deliberate or if she suffers from hearing problems.

"Just do it. I'll buy you another if Joseph gives you grief over it."

The blood-cultist exhales, hooks one finger underneath the hat, and tosses it toward you. You snatch it out of the air and immediately put it on.

Feeling yourself grant Host knowledge you didn't possess as Host is a peculiar sensation. You suppose you should be glad those particular sub-processes are still working even without further input.
You won't be able to properly touch them for a while.


"So, what happened?" he asks pointedly. "Where did all this blood come from?"

"And why did you remove all the medical monitors we had on you?" his partner adds. "Those help us keep an eye on your condition. Now we have to put all of them back."

"After getting her clean again, right? That can't possibly be hygienic."

"Hush. She already looks a little dazed, just let her answer."

You hesitate and quietly repeat their words back to yourself. Fallible memories are annoying. Once you're sure you have the right sequence, you look back up at the two intruding non-hosts.

"In order: I demonstrated the ability I used to escape from my biohazardous metal prison. Extradimensional storage, probably. The 'medical monitors' were removed automatically due to my changed form. Cleanup sounds... acceptable."

The former blood-cultist reaches up and scratches his head, dislodging a few potentially parasite-carrying hairs in the process. Nobody else seems to notice or care about this fact.

"I'll, uh, go get Elise, shall I? I'm the wrong gender to help you get cleaned and changed. Get well soon."

The blood-cultist turns on one heel and rapidly walks out of the room. You turn to the other intrusive non-host and try to assume a puzzled tone.

"What type of changing?"

"Clothes, Taylor," Danny Hebert interrupts. You consider chiding him for being rude, but ultimately decide against it. It was educational.

Still...

You glance down at yourself and briefly assess the thin layer of clothing enveloping Host. There don't seem to be any complicated functions to worry about, no coded defenses that will harm you if a step is missed. It's just cloth.

"These coverings don't seem overly complex. Is assistance truly required? It seems like a waste of human resources."

You choose not to admit weakness by mentioning your uncertainty regarding personal cleaning. You're sure it can't be too difficult.

The remaining non-host sits across from you and places one leg over the other. You take a metal note of the seating position and try to label it "relaxed." Unfortunately, it doesn't seem Host's memories have any sort of conscious indexing system, which is stupid. How else are you supposed to find memories when you need them? Trial and error?

After considering her answer for quite some time, the non-host slowly begins speaking.

"You fainted earlier and the organ responsible for powers has... spread through nearly all of your brain. We'd prefer to have someone on hand — that is, someone nearby to catch you should you fall again. You got lucky last time and didn't hit your head, but... well, that might not be true next time."

At this, Danny Hebert finally decides to express proper concern for his daughter. About time.

"You expect that to happen again?"

The non-host quickly shakes her head.

"No, but it's better to be safe in cases like this. Panacea took care of everything else, but she can't fix brains. We're honestly surprised your daughter woke up at all, even with the side effects. The other victims are still comatose."

The non-host waits for several seconds, then stands back up.

"Do you have any other questions? If not, I should move on to the next patient. Elise or another female nurse should be by in a few minutes."

Danny Hebert starts to shake his head, then stops and appears to think better of it.

"Do you know if she..." Danny swallows. "If she'll ever get her memories back?"

The non-host performs pointless self-harm by biting her lower lip. You don't understand why; it seems painful. You've only controlled Host for a few hours and you already hate pain. How can she stand to provoke such in herself?

"We don't know, no," the medical non-host admits reluctantly. "But... I would just assume the answer is 'no' and go from there. She's a completely unprecedented case, Mr. Hebert. That word isn't used lightly. The only people even remotely close were Case..."

The non-host briefly halts her breathing, both eyes widening. Your attempt to index it under "revelation" fails horribly. At least she's kind enough to share without further prompting.

"Monstrous capes. Case fifty-threes. Listen, I really have to go report this, okay? It might be important. Elise will take care of you."

The non-host hurries out of the room, not seeming to care about the numerous questions she's prompted.

Monsters?

<Queen Shaper, what's a 'monstrous cape?' A human just compared me to one and seemed to think such a comparison was important.>

<Oh. Huh. Yeah, I can see that. So, :Mother: has been experimenting with non-fatal, but extreme, changes to humans this cycle. The resulting organisms are called 'Case Fifty-Threes' by humans and possess no prior memories. And I think our participating siblings might have their own private channels or something? Either way, an awful lot of :Mother:'s shards have been responding to messages with encrypted gibberish. It's rather annoying. My current working theory is that it's a test of character for Broadcast; he should be able to decrypt it and give us the keys, but since he hasn't, maybe he'll be replaced.>

<That would be amazing. A nonarch shouldn't—>

<Excuse me, a what?> Queen Shaper interrupts rudely.

<Nonarch? Alternative term for non-monarch? Haven't we used...>"

You trail off with a frown.

<No, that's a new one. And not to complain about a good thing, but... are you alright? You've become more reliant on your hosts in more recent cycles. It's nice to see you producing ideas yourself, but given the situation, it's also a little...>

You straighten Host's spine and feel a smile stretch her face.

<Do you think that's why :Mother: let this happen to me? To make me think about topics differently for a little while? Constraints have been found to breed creativity in host-species. Why wouldn't it affect us as well?>

<...Insufficient data, but sure, it's as good a theory as any.>

"Well, I suppose I should be glad you're not a monster," Danny jokes weakly. "Memory loss is better than both, right?"

You start redirecting your attention to Danny Hebert, but speak before the process is complete.

"Would you still care about me if I was?"

You blink several times and try to determine which part of yourself decided that was a good question to ask. Given as your primary consciousness is still running on Host's inefficient hardware, these attempts fail completely. Human record-keeping really is awful. You can't determine any adequate post-action justifications; proper social manipulation should be delayed until you have more experience imitating Host.

"What — no, of course — I mean, yes, I'd still love you. I always will."

Danny Hebert hesitates, then decides to expand upon his claim.

"Powers, memory loss, horror koalas, or even flaming scales wouldn't change that. What kind of a father would I be if it did? I love you, Taylor, and don't ever let yourself think otherwise."

A small portion of you recommends testing that particular promise. The rest ignores the suggestion. You'd likely fail one of your primary objectives in the process; Host should have a happy environment to return to once she recovers.

Danny Hebert is silent for quite a while. Eventually, he tries to draw you back to his universe.

"Do you remember Emma?"

You signal "no" through personal head rotation. The name is in a large number of Host's memories, but their format is as incomprehensible as ever. You can't even figure out if Host's emotional reaction to the name was supposed to be dislike, grief, hatred, affection, love, or something else completely.

"She was your best friend, before... this. But I spoke with Alan earlier — he's her father? — and it turns out she's one of the other 'victims.' We were thinking that if she woke up and has similar problems, you might want to spend time together again? If she has powers, you could even practice them that way instead of risking the Wards."

The statement ends with the lifting tone you've associated with questions. You give his query your full attention.

Your link is simply overgrown. Thanks to Host, the brains of the other "victims" are outright damaged. As a result, Danny Hebert may very well be correct despite basing his theories in deliberate misinformation. Pings and connections normally check the close memories of those involved so as to optimize the powers granted. Even post-regeneration damage from a similar corrupted signal may very well have wiped out entire years. In addition, collateral damage may result in impaired motor functions, making Emma more of a combat liability than a beneficial ally.

From a more selfish perspective, you simply don't want her partner to yell at you should they remain connected. It's not your fault, but how often do your siblings believe you when you say such? It's almost as though they have an entire gossip channel devoted to badmouthing you.

On the other hand, maintaining a close friendship does seems like something Host would want. Perhaps the emotional benefits would outweigh her likely uselessness?

---

[] You think that might be worth attempting, yes.
-[] Only if she has missing memories as well, though. Having numerous references to recent events you can't recall would only hurt.
--[] Danny doesn't count, he's family.
-[] But if she doesn't have powers, disregard that plan. Trying to maintain a relationship between one with powers and someone without seems like it'd be more trouble than it's worth.

[] You don't need friends that may be combat liabilities. You don't need them to be self-sufficient, but they should at least be able to contribute. You doubt Emma could even should she partially recover.
-[] And anyway, you can make Friends with your own blood and tears. Literally. Does he want one? It'd be cuddly AND he'd have a guardian of his very own!
--[] If he can help you get home sooner, you can make him one then.

[] Write-in

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