Brockton's Celestial Forge (Worm/Jumpchain)

[LordRoustabout]

(Author's Note: I've been fielding criticism about the pace of the story for some time now, and I wasn't until this chapter that I realized how much it had been wearing on me. The structure and style of this story makes a fast-paced narrative very difficult. That wasn't what I started out with the intention of producing, and trying to reconcile the way I had been writing the story with pushes for an advancing plot was causing problems in my writing process. I wasn't enjoying the time I spent on the story because I was too concerned with the amount of ground that would be covered in a chapter. It made me realize how close to burn out I had become.

Because of that, and because I very much do not want this story to end prematurely, I'm going back to writing the way I used to. I know there are people who think the pacing is intolerable, and you are of course free to voice your opinion on that matter, but I will not be interacting with comments on that topic in the future.

This was written very much as a breather chapter and was probably the first chapter in quite a while where I enjoyed writing it from start to finish. It's shorter than I would have liked, doesn't cover much time, and could probably have used extra revisions, but the important thing is that I finally feel like I am getting more out of writing the story than it is taking out of me. For me that is more important than any other concerns.)

47 Downtime

The wide vistas of the mountainous landscape that surrounded my Workshop spread out before me. The view from the eastern slope showed the shifting colors of the sky as twilight gave way to dawn, banishing the strange constellations that hung in the foreign sky above my volcano. Despite the surrounding lands being as inaccessible as ever they felt real, like they were a tangible place just beyond reach.

It was something I had never really taken a chance to appreciate. The celestial mechanics, at least in terms of time of day, mirrored the outside world, though with some significant differences. I hadn't even registered the fact that the sky actually held two moons until I decided to take some time away from my projects and actually look. Of course, Survey had been documenting all the astronomical details of the region, including the fact that, based on high resolution gravitational sensors, tidal effects from the moons were only detectable at the Skyforge and on the outside of the volcano. I just liked that the larger of the moons kind of looked like Mars. Regardless, it was clear that whatever dimensional effects had cobbled together the pocket realm of my Workshop, they were very distinct from each other. It was another small but significant detail I had overlooked.

Over the past weeks I had been moving so fast, working so hard, that it was like I had lost track of what I was really dealing with. I'd been so focused on what I needed to do, on making it to the next crisis and wringing what use I could out of my latest ability that the grandeur of what I was working with had largely passed me by. It was something that hadn't been apparent until those flashes of dissonance I experienced when I saw someone, usually Aisha, react with wonder to a work I could only see as out of date and badly in need of replacement. The idea that those works, even ones that weren't at the peak of my abilities, could still be impressive wasn't apparent to me. At least not until I forced myself to take some time to actually appreciate them.

It hadn't been easy. I'd never been good at actually relaxing. There was always some sense of guilt or anxiety connected with the act. If you relaxed you weren't taking time for yourself, you were goofing off, wasting time, or neglecting responsibilities. Even if you worked hard and finished what you were supposed to do, that just meant you had time for more. More tasks, more studying, more housework. Growing up, the focus was very much on the tasks themselves, not on your own efforts towards them. The mentality was something I was struggling to break away from, but it wasn't an easy process.

Just taking a stand and saying, admitting, that I needed a break, it fundamentally felt like failure. Like I was accepting I wasn't good enough, that I couldn't handle the situation. As hard as I tried to ignore it, there was always a feeling that I wasn't doing enough, that I should keep pushing, that I didn't deserve a break. It was like being in a state of overstressed exhaustion barely able to focus was the only way to show you were seriously trying. That someone in good health who was managing the stress of their situation obviously wasn't working hard enough.

It was insane. Well, that was a harsh and loaded word. It was evidence of a toxic mindset that developed from a bad environment and in relation to coping strategies that were no longer helpful. Insane was just an easier way to get the concept across. I honestly don't know if I would have been able to manage this without support and everyone around me making sure that I didn't back out of it.

Weirdly, the fact that I knew it was helping, that I was doing better now that I would have been if I'd decided to undertake an eighteen-hour marathon of work, didn't help. Confirmation that relaxation was helpful just seemed to confirm that I was the kind of person who couldn't handle real work. Lazy, unfocused, and likely to be a burden on everyone.

Those feelings were still here, still present, but I could accept that they weren't accurate. The fact that I couldn't magically stop feeling guilty about needing a break wasn't a sign that I should feel guilty, it just meant I had to acknowledge where the idea came from. There was also guilt associated with the fact that I wasn't even enjoying my downtime properly, like that made the waste of time so much worse because I wasn't even doing it properly.

The tangled mess of a mental state and the gymnastics necessary to process it wasn't anything new. I had worked through this before, and recognizing it was a big step towards being able to deal with it properly. Towards maybe not having it as a constant part of my mindset that I had to manage. That was hope for the future, something I was able to hold onto in a way that had been difficult before. I was in a different place than when I'd been struggling to work through things. A different place from when I triggered.

And that was true, both figuratively and literally. The events of the last weeks had an effect on me in more than just what the Forge had downloaded into my head. Or possibly what the Forge had pulled from other universes and linked to me. The mechanics still weren't clear and had concerns of their own connected to them. Even setting aside the new lifetimes of skills and experiences, I was a different person. The things I had done, had managed to confront, they were things I never would have imagined doing before.

Weirdly, it wasn't the grand feats that stood out to me. Yes, the battles had been intense and incredible, but even something as fantastic as battling a dragon in the sky over Brockton Bay was something I could have imagined doing before my trigger. If you have the power to do something great it's easy to imagine yourself doing it. Really, it was everything else that was the biggest surprise, that let me know how much I'd changed and grown.

Even the most isolated, closed off person in the world could imagine using superpowers to defeat a villain. That was pretty much my idea of being a hero before this mess started. Get power, go out to help people, maybe file a report or give a statement afterwards, then get away before anything else can happen. It was laughable now, but I had really imagined myself as a low-profile hero. Someone who could help people without needing to get caught up in publicity, endorsements, public appearances, or any of that stuff. The idea of having to endure a press conference or give an interview was so horrifying it made desperate battles with supervillains seem appealing. Isn't there a joke about death being a less significant fear than public speaking? I was right on board with that. Even in the early days of my power I would have taken a protracted battle with Hookwolf over having to deal with the public reception to my actions.

That choice had been taken away from me, and I hadn't dealt with the situation as well as I could have, but in the end I had dealt with it. As much as I hated the fact, and as much as I could have managed it better, I was a public figure. I was a prominent public figure, and I had dealt with it. I had talked to people, opened lines of communication, handled public statements, and even dealt with the fact that I was being discussed on a national level. It wasn't something I enjoyed, but I had dealt with it, and I could continue to deal with it. It was obvious that, at least at the power level I was playing at, you didn't get to pick and choose what parts of the cape scene you wanted to participate in. Just the fact that I hadn't completely bungled my public relations gave me hope to be able to deal with it in the future.

That hope was a big thing for me. I was actually starting to feel like the impossible problems that I had wrestled with both before and after my trigger could be resolved at some point. Not just because of the level of power I had been able to amass, though that was a big part of it. It was the hope that I could actually deal with what was coming. Me, as a person, deal with it. That I might be good enough, dependable enough, strong enough to handle things, to not fuck them up just on account of being me.

The idea of 'maybe I'm not going to inherently ruin everything just from the impact of my presence' didn't sound like a major revelation, but for me it was a big step. Without it, without the idea that I might be on the right track, I don't think I would have been able to take this break, not even with all the encouragement in the world.

That encouragement from absolutely everyone around me was a bigger factor in this than I liked to admit. It was harder to spin off into nightmare scenarios or give up on hope when you weren't dealing with things in isolation. Even the act of explaining what I was preparing for to another person made a difference. Having to admit the actual amount of effort something would take, the real chance of things going wrong, and the true reason for my apprehension changed the way you viewed your problems. I wonder how much of them becoming overblown in my mind was just based on not being able to talk about them with anyone I could trust?

The sight of dawn breaking over the mountains may have prompted me to reflect on what I'd been struggling with, but everything else about the situation made sure I wouldn't dwell on it. As much as I had focused on downtime and actually taking a break it was easier to do that if the activity had some benefit, some element of training or exploration of my powers that I could carry forward. Fortunately, there were plenty of things that counted as training that were also incredibly fun. It was something I could appreciate as I kicked off the rim of the volcano and guided my board into the nearest lava flow.

Volcano surfing was incredible in that it felt like the most natural thing in the world while also being something that I never would have imagined being a 'thing'. The exact combination of circumstances, abilities, and workshop manifestations that facilitated its existence seemed convoluted in the extreme, but with all of them together the natural reaction seemed to be 'what else would you do in this situation?'. As my enchanted mithril board hit the stream of molten rock the answer clearly presented itself. Surf down the side of an active volcano by the light of dawn.

The amount of the activity that could count as training rather than just pure joyful indulgence was a bit nebulous. The board I was riding was a work of art, and not just because of my design powers. The last time I had done this it had been on a slab of mithril with some minor adjustments to allow it to function in an environment that was never meant to see surfing of any kind. Now it was a true item of power, acting as an Arcane Focus and a demonstration of the full extent of my crafting abilities. Skills and talents I had barely explored were being expressed through what was undoubtedly a frivolous creation.

The fact that it was frivolous actually helped with things. The pressure that came with producing and upgrading my own gear was unbelievable. I could recognize where the mindset came from, but doing anything less than my absolute best for any project that would see the light of day grated on my mind in a way I just couldn't ignore. But something as irrelevant as a surfboard for lava? That could serve as the test bed for any number of ideas, experiments, or just flights of fancy.

I was capable of types of enchantment and mysteries of craftsmanship that I had barely begun to explore, mostly because the space to practice and develop them didn't exist. When I was going to take something into the field there was simply no room for the risk that it wouldn't work or would fail to live up to expectations. With a surfboard I could go nuts.

I could experiment. I could enchant wildly to see what would happen. I could try out new possibilities for Arcane Focuses. I could work with alchemy infusions that were either too unstable or unreliable to be confident of for use in my weapons and armor. I could actually dive into the impossibilities of craftsmanship that being a demigod opened up for me, not the general improvement in skills or innate understanding of workmanship, but the true, reality altering potential of divine craftsmanship.

The exercise had actually been fascinating. Even if the lack of technology present meant the work had only gone twelve times faster rather than the truly ridiculous tens of thousands of times faster that was possible for technical work, that just meant I actually had the capacity to enjoy the work. I actually liked the time I spent tinkering with something or putting together equipment. That went back to my engineering days, and even earlier than that. Fascination with technology that grew from admiring tinkers and finding time spent actually putting a device together was a relaxing experience.

With the rate at which I now worked that feeling didn't really happen, at least on the technical side of construction. There was still a certain joy and excitement to be had from designing an item and planning out the work, but the moment I set myself to undertake the task it was already over. Only the most intensive projects could take more than a second, and work on that scale wasn't needed too often. I still had perfect recollection of the process. Every power I had that accelerated my work did so in a slightly different way, but none of them diminished my ability to perceive or recall the construction. I was gaining experience from my projects, but only experience. It was like I worked so fast that I needed to view my projects in retrospect rather than experience them in the moment.

It was the type of problem I never saw coming, and also the kind of problem any tinker on the planet would kill to have. Hearing me complain about it would likely lead to attempted lynching out of pure spite. It was the equivalent of someone complaining about how terrible it was that they needed to buy a new wardrobe after they had lost so much weight. Something that would garner no sympathy, even if I did kind of regret some aspects of the situation.

As a counterpoint, non-technical work only benefited from the lesser version of Build Rome, meaning twice to three times as fast, depending on my skill level, which stacked with Manufacturing Line doubling of production speed for a total of six times faster. Twelve if Do One Thing at a Time was active. Doing an hour of work in five minutes was a very different experience than doing an hour of work in less than a tenth of a second.

In fact, for certain kinds of craftsmanship it could actually be an advantage. With technology you knew what you were trying to accomplish and generally any deviation from that was a bad thing. Working from plans it was important that what you produced matched the actual design in question. You couldn't get creative with the placement of microactuators or engraved circuits.

But there were kinds of crafting that were more art than science. Where you would look at how the metals behaved to decide your next step. Where inspiration could strike mid project and take the entire work in a new direction. It encouraged practice, adaptation, the kind of environment where mistakes could be worked around or integrated into the final design as inventive flourishes or new features. It was the kind of work I could do if the product in question was completely devoid of any technological elements, even the mass fields and HF capacitors that were practically standard at this point, then crafting could become an experience again, not a checkbox on a to do list.

That was what I'd been able to do when making my lava surfboard. That was how I was able to take what should have been a ridiculous concept and turn it into not only a beautifully functional device but a chance to learn, develop, and explore parts of my abilities that I hadn't had the chance to delve into. As the rays of the rising morning sun chased me down the side of my volcano and a cool wind blew up from the valley below I relished all the experiences that had brought me to this point.

Behind me I heard the sound of two more boards launch off the caldera and strike the flowing lava. Given how much I enjoyed making my board, it would have been a shame to limit the project to only a single item. I could have used Workaholic to duplicate my results, but that would have been counter to the point of the entire exercise. And besides, I typically relied on the size increase version of that power instead. It was easier to under-build and have the item expand to its full volume on completion than deal with constant duplication of end results. I smiled as I looked back at the figures who had joined me in this run down the mountain.

It wasn't my duplicates. While my duplicates enjoyed lava surfing and had certainly indulged during their 20% time, usually with projected boards, 'water' skis, or on one occasion what turned out to be a lava compatible jet ski, they were very adamant about the division of labor during my rest period. They still had their free time at the end of their now substantial duration, but outside of that they were seeing to work, upgrades, experimentation, and any needed management of the external situation. For the time being my 'job' was to get as much rest as possible, not to get sucked into the latest rounds of projects, at least beyond status updates.

It was a situation I wasn't entirely comfortable with, but I had to remember that each set of duplicates effectively began their duration following the amount of rest that I had already taken at that point. Looking at it that way, it made sense that they would be keen on getting back to work rather than joining me in what still felt like complete frivolity. The thing was, while my duplicates were devoted to their tasks, that didn't extend to any of the other residents of the Workshop, as was evidenced by the figures rapidly picking up speed on the lava flow.

My eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of the smaller figure currently doing everything possible to accelerate down the mountain. Tetra was clinging to her board and devoting herself to the pursuit of speed with an intensity that would do Fleet proud. Her board was distinct from my own, and not just in being sized from someone whose most mobile form was a four-foot tall vaguely humanoid mink. That's 'vaguely humanoid' in shape, not color, which was still the traditional molten scarlet of life fiber energy which actually looked rather at home on the lave-ridden volcanic landscape.

Tetra's board was an almost crystalline crimson shard with a sleek and narrow design. It was specifically designed with her in mind since without the natural robustness of life fibers or the kind of resistances I sported it would be lethal to even handle the thing. Normally a lava surfing board would be designed with some intention of protecting the rider against the heat of the material they were moving across. Tetra couldn't have been less bothered by the temperature ranges or environmental conditions associated with molten rock.

Instead, the biggest problem for her was the fact that lava wasn't actually that good of a surfing medium. Really, at most surface temperatures it was more like pudding or some kind of thick mud. You also tended to get temperature gradients forming, meaning the surface could be near solid while the main body of a flow remained liquid. As a consequence, attempts to surf across it played out like running an icebreaker through frozen seas rather than soaring upon waves of the blood of the earth.

I could work around that issue with my connection to the volcano. Between innate senses of heat as a demigod and the specific thematic connection with volcanic sites I could feel out and possibly even directly control the behavior of the flows. That option wasn't available for Tetra. While she might possibly have picked up some elements of my divinity from our less than perfect separation it was only a fraction of my own abilities, a legacy of divinity rather than a direct connection to it. Because of that she needed a more direct method of managing her surfing conditions, and that was what the board had been designed for.

The deep red color of the board was due to a tremendous infusion of flame Dust, probably more than was strictly safe to impart. I had actually considered using a single Dust crystal as a base for the item, but relented due to the fact that the choice would have deprived me of the advantages of other material options, and also because it would have held a fundamentally unstable energy concentration equivalent to a low yield nuclear bomb. The finished product actually exceeded that, but in a far more controlled manner than a solid crystal of dust would have. The quantity of energy concentrated in that board was staggering, and when crafting I had drawn upon all my skill to amplify the effect.

Arcane Craft was an incredible power, and one with far reaching versatility. It could channel or enhance any form of power, even types that were poorly understood or imprecisely defined. During the rush to the next crisis, I had been focused only on what would be strictly useful, once again without time or incentive for experimentation. The downtime and the ability to prototype designs with projection magic had allowed me to discover new applications that I had previously overlooked.

Mysterious Forces as defined by the power was a broad category, but it turned out to affect even things that could barely be defined. Things like the blessings of gods who probably didn't exist in this universe, and may not have even existed wherever these powers came from. Theology aside, divine power could be focused, channeled, and enhanced by arcane craftsmanship, as was evident by the set of shrines that enhanced the effects of my respective blessings and demigod powers.

I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn't really believe that I was actually linking to gods from another world, despite the connection and knowledge that accompanied the power. The alternate explanation was probably very powerful entities or possibly natural forces that functioned as gods, but that felt like it was getting into semantics. The point was Arcane Craft was limited to appropriate items for the forces involved, and the appropriate item for channeling blessings was a shrine, and that was what felt weird about the situation.

My family was what I would refer to as 'socially religious'. Church was more about the people you knew than any kind of sincere expression of faith. I wasn't complaining about that, and my family's drop in attendance as time went on, barring token visits for major holidays was perfectly fine with me. The effect of the shrines didn't actually require faith or any kind or sincere belief, so I was thankfully free of any kind of theological crisis and could just take advantage of the enhanced ability granted by, say, a master crafted shrine to Hestia.

Said ability allowed an item crafted with a focus on flame to go beyond the normal limits of heat to a near conceptual item. The board had been another experiment in Arcane Craft, interfacing with the energy of Tetra's life fibers and allowing her to transform it into even more heat than she naturally produced. At her touch roiling energy flickered under the semi-transparent surface of the board. The cooling lava around it glowed brightly as Tetra's passing superheated the molten rock to levels it would be hard pressed to match even in the core of the volcano. The mink clung to the board with one paw, using her tail to control her balance as she zipped back and forth along the flow of lava, screaming with excitement in a voice only I could hear.

The second rider descended the mountain with an elegant grace that stood at odds with Tetra's devotion to speed. The ability to craft focuses for the mysterious forces of others hadn't stopped with Tetra. That was evident as Garment pulled her board into a stylish jump off a crest of lava, sending herself flying through the air in a tightly controlled arc.

Because it was tightly controlled. Garment's ability to control materials was phenomenal, but it was also perplexing. What precisely was defined as a material seemed to rest solely with her own perception, and the mechanism behind the control was a complete mystery. It wasn't magic and even the newly discovered psionic effects I had seen from the Entanglement pin didn't match up with the effect. As far as I could tell there was no discernable mechanism behind how her telekinesis worked.

Of course, with Arcane Craft having no knowledge of what you were dealing with was only a minor obstacle, and one that could be worked around with a minimum amount of effort and experimentation. Garment's jump appeared perfectly controlled because it was perfectly controlled. The focus that had been built into her board connected with her power, allowing her to control it as easily as the most delicate of her needle work.

It was why there was no need to add features to account for the practicalities of lava surfing. Garment was effectively bypassing them in their entirety, focusing entirely on the spectacle of the event in place of any practical concerns. Well, any practical concerns not related to fashion.

Garment was not overly interested in Volcano Sports. She was however interested in the culture of Volcano Sports. Apparently once Tetra decided to join in Garment had decided that lava surfing had graduated from a frivolous eccentricity to a legitimate sport, and sports have conventions attached to them, particularly with respect to fashion.

Garment wasn't here out of love for riding a mithril board down an active volcano. Garment was here for the chance to define the effective uniform of an entirely new sport from the point of its inception. The fact that nobody outside the workshop was likely to ever participate in or even observe the sport was immaterial. It was a new sport and she had a chance to design its look.

She had really gone to town on the designs, and she had expressed how disappointed she was that there were only three participants to try out her work. Thankfully, over the development process the works had strayed from the initial idea of 'lava themed barbarian chic' to some combination of traditional surfer wear with aspects of more resistant materials. Imagine someone taking the special equipment and protective gear used by volcanologists and combining it with the wetsuits of traditional surf attire. The result was a combination of pseudo-wetsuits with elements of reflective foil, reinforced metal, high temperature glass, and a color palette much more in line with a lava field than a sunny beach.

And it worked. I mean, Garment was behind it. It shouldn't have been a surprise that it came together. She was modeling the premier outfit, a kind of wetsuit spun out of a glassy white fabric with orange panels and a metal plate under the bust. Similar plates were worn along the legs of the suit and the outfit also featured shoes that were like a high fashion combination of Reef Walkers and industrial footwear. Her white gloves had shifted into surfing gloves, short with heavy texture for the grip, but still brilliant white. As a new feature she had added a pair of goggles, creating the interesting effect of actually being able to make eye contact with her. The items in question were like a chrome riddled fusion of swimming goggles with the kind of protective eyewear used for welding.

I had gone along with the designs, riding in a sleeveless wetsuit with metal plates, panels of reflective silver, and shoes that allowed good grip on the otherwise frictionless board at my feet. It was a style that I had been happy to help her prototype, though that was mostly relief at the fact that she moved away from Barbarian Chic. It turned out that being able to better understand Garment didn't make the arguments over that design aesthetic any easier. In fact, it was probably worse, seeing as I had to concede her points when she presented the various historic, social, and cultural merits of the design and the impact it would bear from me specifically. Spending half a conversation acknowledging that her reasoning was sound before turning her down out of personal preference only served to convince her that I was being unreasonable and overly conservative. I was really concerned she was going to try to rally the other members of the workshop in support of her case.

It probably would have been worse if she was solely focused on the topic, but luckily Garment had enough to occupy her time that designing Lava Surfing fashions was something of a break for her. To begin with, I probably didn't need to worry overly about a costume redesign by Robert E. Howard since the Forge had provided a better alternative just before my last costume was destroyed. That Undefinable Thing had come with a pair of items, one of which was simply referred to as 'Iconic Outfit'. The actual properties of the outfit were nothing special, but it was rugged, stylish, and most importantly completely suited for me.

The design was everything I had hoped for with the various iterations of my costume. It somehow struck a balance between the overly edgy pseudo-punk designs and the militaristic edge I had been leaning towards in an effort to be taken seriously. It managed to accomplish that without being overly dramatic or complex. The same color palette was used, but in a much subtler way. It had the potential for additional dust weavings, but I could see how to integrate them to flow with the design rather than stand out. Garment had immediately used it as the basis for her planned redesigns, though frankly I felt comfortable enough in it that I would have been fine using a stripped-down version in my civilian life.

That comfort was a big deal. I had conceded to a lot of harsh elements in my original costume because of the benefit they brought. I was better with Aura than I had been, but it was still difficult to use if you didn't feel comfortable in how you were expressing yourself. That new outfit perfectly addressed those problems. Suddenly I was actually able to focus on the techniques and applications of Aura, rather than fighting my own mind just to be able to access the stuff.

Aura also helped with the other item that was provided along with That Undefinable Thing. It was something I had started carrying with me, both due to Garment's excitement and in order to get used to the inherent awkwardness of the item. That was to be expected, given that it was literally called 'Questionably Practical Weapon'.

Questionable was about right. It was frankly incredible that it could even be considered as a weapon. I mean, there was a historic basis for it, but only as a support item, and generally in an improvised form when nothing else was available. Not as a primary means of attack, and certainly not in the form this was intended.

My Questionably Practical Weapon was a dueling cape. Now, your typical dueling cape was just whatever cape you happened to be wearing, removed and wrapped around your hand, where you can rely on multiple layers of cloth to block stabs, or maybe if you were really adventurous you could flick it out and try to trap someone's weapon. It wasn't used on its own and certainly wasn't used for attack, but that's exactly what the one granted by the Forge did.

It wasn't a deadly weapon by any means, but it was an extraordinary one. It was designed to be used without being removed, draping over one shoulder and stretching to improbable lengths while striking. The damage it could do was middling, at least without something like Aura enhancing it, but the barrages were disorienting. I had sparred with my duplicates using the weapon and could attest that even with full durability negating the impact it was an unsettling experience. The mechanics behind the effect were unknown. It was like there was some kind of balance mechanic in play that had traded damage for better knockback or stun or something like that.

Regardless, it was worth using. It had excellent reach and striking speed and could actually be worked into some impressive combos. It was like being able to accomplish some of the maneuvers Garment had facilitated from my earlier cape only without her assistance. I was worried that would have upset her on some level. Not needing her to control Tetra and then not even needing her for the cape could have been disappointing, but really nothing could have been further from the truth, and that was because of a secondary effect of the item in question.

The cape I had received had been basic in the extreme. Barely a weapon, entry level really. But there was a caveat on the cape. After receiving it merchants would be able to sell me better versions of it. Seriously better, much more deadly versions of it. Now that sounded flat out insane. I didn't know where you could even buy this crazy version of a dueling cloak, much less a better version of it. But I hadn't been thinking about Garment.

Garment was an absolute master of any form of clothing production. The peak of human skill. The thing was, as I learned about new potential human skills that I had never heard of before then suddenly, as long as they dealt with clothing in some manner, Garment had them mastered. I hadn't even known Dust weaving was possible, but Garment had the entire art down just from seeing the substance. The lab coat I had received along with my laser pistol had a possibly psychological effect of focusing my mind, something unique to that clothing, but something that Garment had started working into her recent projects. Given the possible multiversal nature of these powers I'm not sure if Garment always had the skills, or was connecting to other universes in the same way I did.

What I did know was my Questionably Practical Weapon said merchants could provide better versions of it. Well, Garment was a merchant, and she could suddenly provide better versions of it. Many different versions of it. Powerful versions, versions with extra features, versions imbued with elemental properties, and versions that proved that the claim of 'deadly upgrades' was entirely on base.

I'd had enough time to come to terms with the unusual nature of my power. I'd accepted that some of my abilities clearly came from places that had significant aspects in common with movies, TV shows, books, cartoons, comics or any number of other things. The way this power, or more specifically this particular item worked, it put me in mind of something else, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. The way the weapon started basic and low damage, the way it seemed to be 'balanced' in its effect, the way it could be incrementally upgraded to better models, and the way certain versions had additional properties, support abilities, or damage well in excess of what should have been possible from a length of cloth, well, it led me to one possibility.

This item, this weapon, seemed like the kind of thing that came from an RPG. It seemed exactly like that, almost frighteningly so. The kind of thing where you start with a basic item with some weird property, balanced out by the abilities of the other characters, and then upgrade it as time goes on until you have some kind of god killing super cape that does an improbable amount of damage while electrocuting or causing status effects while it also boosts secondary abilities. It didn't seem impossible. It was a little too close in terms of mechanics to be easily accepted, but if I could have powers based on cartoons then the story of a video game didn't seem impossible. I had no idea what game it could have been, but it seemed as good an explanation as any, right?

Well, there was one problem. The item, the one that suggested it was from a video game, or at least a universe that functioned as one? That was where I got the ability to manipulate souls. I felt uncomfortable enough with that ability without the possibility that it was potentially some kind of adapted game mechanic, or something that was indistinguishable from such from the outside. Given how I felt about working with souls, that possibility certainly did nothing to reassure me.

But as horrible as that was, it had nothing to do with the cloak currently streaming behind me. Garment's workmanship was superb and the quality of her higher-level offerings would probably have endured the volcano even without the power of my reinforcement strengthening it. With the durability of the plates in my suit extended to it the cloak was a terrifying weapon.

It also looked really cool flapping behind me as I rode down the lava with masterful balance and coordination. I could draw on Aura quite easily now, and that opened up truly superhuman feats of agility. I also had the advantages of Martial Arts Ninjutsu, something I had received during my fight with Lung and barely been able to experiment with. Incredibly the insane weapon that was my cloak was entirely appropriate to that martial art, and I could integrate it seamlessly. The effects of Master's Body had begun to rapidly set in, extending my stamina, endurance, and the results of training. That power allowed unlimited growth, if on a logarithmic curve. The effects of my overhaul were also being felt, dozens of tiny tweaks and enhancements that I was still adjusting to even after nearly a day back on my feet.

Combined it allowed me to more than match Garment's display. I didn't have her frankly cheating level of control of her board, but my recently acquired Efficiency power prevented any wasted movement or excess energy. I was able to smoothly launch into a flip that took me further down the mountain than even Tetra had managed, landing instinctively on a warmed section of lava that allowed me to keep up my speed.

Tetra cried in protest as she was forced to pull out of my wake, losing speed and leaving her struggling to get back on track. She hadn't been neglected in the issuing of new fashions for the sport, but Garment had limited her offerings to a zip up jacket fitted for her mink form. It seemed Garment was limiting what she made for Tetra to outer layers on a logic of that being the clothes that were worn over clothes. I wasn't entirely comfortable with Garment regarding Tetra as clothes, but it quickly became clear that Garment saw no reason why being clothes would mean someone wasn't also a person. In Garment's mind Tetra was clothes that happened to also be a fully sapient being, and it seemed Tetra had no issue with that designation.

What she did have issue with was me beating her down the mountain. I may have drawn a bit too much enjoyment from shifting my path to either cut off her attempts to pass, or to leave the lava too choppy for her to build up decent speed. Even the energy she was pouring into the board, enough to leave a glowing white trail in the flow behind her, wasn't enough to overcome my home field advantage.

The 'race' continued down the volcano with me squaring off with Tetra and Garment magically keeping pace just behind us in a manner that certainly didn't mean she was blatantly cheating. You know, despite the fact that the lava under her board was virtually untouched and she seemed more focused on artistic jumps than any kind of racing strategy.

Her gratuitous posing during her stunts wasn't entirely self-indulgent. We actually had something of an audience for this event. My duplicates were still working away inside the volcano, being 'on the clock' so to speak, but the other residents could afford to split focus. Fleet had refused to participate in the run despite several of his smaller vehicles being able to endure the temperatures. Essentially, he had no interest in cross purpose modeling of vehicle operation, so as adorable as it would have been to see a tiny speed boat join us he was abstaining until a dedicated lava-based vehicle could be deployed.

Instead, he was handling coverage of the event. Rather than use the standard drones that would have typically been deployed, a swarm of miniature news choppers buzzed around our route. They were less maneuverable and harder to coordinate, but Fleet seemed to both enjoy the challenge and value the operational experience they could bring. The fact that Survey was effectively riding tandem running sensors and analysis was a positive factor as well. The model helicopters had both a full suite of the best sensors that I could deploy and miniature versions of news-quality cameras, letting Survey mimic the format of actual sports coverage.

Which she was actually doing. Either as a joke or out of a desire for authenticity, Survey had mocked up an entire news broadcast, complete with graphics, background profiles, and running commentary. The little truncated statements from a hologram of Fleet inside various tiny helicopters were a nice touch. I was aware of the broadcast through my neural link, but Survey had been exchanging sporadic updates with Tetra through use of infrared signals between her and various helicopters. From the way thermal emissions were building from Tetra I was guessing the exchanges were starting to get to her.

That reached a critical point when a bad turn saw Tetra's board dive headfirst into a crest of lava. It would have been a bad move if were just in water, but the density of molten rock meant she was basically stalled to the point that even Garment passed her. Multi angle replays of the incident on Survey's broadcast and an infrared exchange where she appeared to be asking for a statement seemed to be the last straw.

Tetra tightened her hand on the board and it began to glow with a combination of Hestia's flames and the burning energy of her own body. A thrash of her tail sent a spray of lava into the air and launched her back onto the course. The flow under her was positively glowing as she fought to build up speed. I kept some of my awareness on her progress as I worked my way down the mountain. Finally, she reached enough speed that she was able to bank off one of my cooling wakes and take to the air. Then I realized her plan.

Tetra clung to the board until she reached the peak of her jump. Then, just as she began to dip back towards the lava, she exploded.

Well, not literally. What she did was revert to her life fiber form. She unfurled from her mink shape in a single burst of energy and wrapped around her board like an octopus. The jacket actually stayed perfectly fitted, even for her new shape. The same ability that granted both of our beast forms had given me a machine known as Armor-Shift Manufacture. It was fairly small, but any armor or clothing placed inside was granted the ability to change forms with the wearer. As Tetra cocooned herself around her board the jacket shifted as well, becoming a kind of sheath for her new shape.

The reason for this maneuver was quickly apparent. The board was a repository of natural and divine fire, specifically designed to channel and enhance Tetra's own energy emissions into that heat. When she was clinging to the board she could put out enough energy to heat lava as quickly as she rode across it. With her entire body interfacing with the board, she was less a surfer than a barely directed rocket aimed at the bottom of the mountain.

Tetra exploded forward with a flame trail at least twenty feet wide billowing in her wake. Garment managed to elegantly dip out of the way, thanks once again to the fact that she was barely in contact with the lava, but I was regrettably subjected to mostly conventional physics. Perhaps as a bit of petty revenge, which was made all the more likely by the mocking cry she made while blowing past, Tetra veered close enough to my own board that her wake sent me on a jump into the air and out of the path of the flowing lava.

Tetra continued down the mountain like a jet boat while I descended from my involuntary jump with nothing but solid rock waiting to greet me. Were I any less durable this would have been a catastrophic spill, but as it stood I was only looking at a wipe out, lost time, and an unrecoverable lead for Tetra.

The thing was, Tetra and Garment weren't the only ones who had foci built into their boards. The level of pyrokinesis I was capable of as a demigod was substantial. It wasn't just the amount of heat I could put out; it was the precise control that it facilitated. Waves of fire looked impressive, but controlling the exact manner an item heated or cooled was a game changer when it came to smithing. My blessing of Hestia had expended that power even further, taking fire from a force to a concept, a representation that held as much promise of hope as threat of destruction.

Most importantly, my pyrokinesis could grow. It was an ability that could be trained and developed, potentially without an upper limit. The realization of what I was capable of before my fight with Lung, compared to after I had put my all into the blast that sent him into the stratosphere was noticeable. The harder this was pushed, the more it was stressed, the more it grew.

That's what this board was about. Bringing pyrokinesis to the level of grand demonstrations. Letting me push against the limits and train up an ability that was both incredibly useful and of deep personal importance. A surfboard might not seem like the natural expression for fire control, but in this case, there was nothing better.

Mirroring Tetra's own maneuver I waited until the peak of my jump and then drew from a well of primal force within me. My bones shifted, my muscles swelled, and coarse fur rippled across my body. My muzzle extended and saber teeth extended from my upper jaw. A tail sprang from the base of my spine and claws poked through my shoes. Thankfully, Armor-Shift Manufacture protected my clothing as well as it did Tetra's, even preserving Garment's workmanship and sense of fashion.

What I was about to attempt would be exhausting. Pyrokinesis didn't draw from any abstract power source like ki, mana, or spiritual energy. It was a direct exertion of my body. Without being a demigod, the ability would have been meaningless as the drain alone would have knocked any normal human on their ass. For something like this I needed the stamina boost that came with being a primordial saber-toothed wolf man.

As I descended towards the volcanic stone I called upon as much power as I could muster. There wasn't even a hint of visible flame from the effect, merely the glow of the ground under my board shifting from red to orange to yellow and finally to white as I approached the surface. When I finally hit the stone, it wasn't stone anymore. It was a fresh lava flow, formed entirely by my power. I skimmed along the brightly glowing liquid, angling myself after Tetra and Garment.

It was a pure and brutal exertion of power. The rock before me melted in a fraction of a second as I powered down the mountain, leaving a glowing white trail bordered by stone that pulsed a dull red. The fresh lava was pulled downward of its own volition, building up against the slow moving freshly melted stone. The effect was something that had to be unique in the admittedly brief history of lava surfing.

A wave.

I was actually riding a wave of lava down the side of my mountain, chasing after Tetra's improvised missile form and Garment, who was still treating the event more like a figure skating demonstration than with any kind of competitive energy. The actual buildup of lava would probably have been completely unstable, but I had enough control over the concept of a volcano to nudge things just enough to maintain the integrity. It held together well enough to actually produce a crest as it drove towards the base of the volcano, one that I rode with all the grace of someone who has never surfed before, but was supernaturally agile and physically incapable of any wasted motion.

The result might not have been perfect surfing, but it still managed to look good. The actual wave I was riding was as much of a cheat in this situation as Garment's telekinetic control of her board or Tetra decision to switch to rocketry. The surge of white hot molten rock only cared about gravity and the amount of heat I was putting out. Things like the landscape of the mountainside were largely immaterial. Tetra may have been literally rocket assisted, but she still needed to follow the flows of lava rather than creating her own.

The result was a game to see if Tetra could launch, skip, or rocket her way down the available paths before I bulldozed my way through the course. The effect I was leaving in my wake was the kind of thing that could have ruined any future attempts at surfing this side of the mountain, but I knew that it was at worst five minutes of alchemy arrays to clean up. Actually, no, not even that. Sensing behind me I could feel the damage already being repaired, the work of the improved mantic circuits that had been extended over the past day.

The base of the volcano began to rapidly approach. My direct route was taking me away from the trails of lava that Tetra was following down the mountain. It was something that would technically get me there faster, but it was seriously against even the nebulous level of sportsmanship we had established. Instead, I focused through my board, directing both the zone of intense thermal energy and my limited control over the flow of the volcano. A pulse of heat shot towards the side, instantly liquifying rock and shifting my course.

The expanded path of fresh lava merged with the wave I was riding, extending the crest as much as it pushed me along. I shifted position, riding along the expanded wave as I closed on the final stretch. Just as Tetra approached the end of the lava flow the wave of molten rock crested and fell, wrapping over me in a roiling tube of glowing red. I shifted the angle of my board and shot forward as the tube collapsed behind me. Reaching out I trailed a clawed hand through the surging lava, feeling the unexpected resistance of the dense material and sending motes of burning rock flying off.

Just before the entire wave came crashing down I launched out of the mouth of the tube, ducking my head as I went. A final kick sent me into the air, shooting down to the normative 'finish line' just as Tetra closed the last stretch in a burst of flame. Drawing on agility and reflexes of years of training I never performed, I kicked my board up, grabbed hold of it, shifted back to human form, and spun around for a landing. I touched down and skidded to a stop with the board in my hands just as Tetra's board slammed into the rubble and scree of the base of the mountain. The tip buried itself in the ground and the momentum pulled the mass of life fibers forward just enough to give Tetra space to transform, leaving her clinging to the upright board in her mink form.

"I won!" She proudly declared, though it seemed to be directed more at the miniature helicopters than to me. Garment touched down with an impossibly graceful flip and perfect landing, followed by a series of waves to the surrounding helicopters. I didn't bother to comment on the way the board held position in mid-air as she shifted to waving with both hands, and then specifically posing to show the most dynamic angles of her outfit she possibly could.

"You did great, Tetra." I commended her, hoisting my own board.

"Because I won!" She repeated, then shot a glance towards the helicopters. "I did!" She repeated, infrared signals flying.

"Come on." I said, stepping in to hopefully break up whatever argument they were currently having. "The duplicates are getting close to their twenty percent time and wanted to meet us at the Laboratorium." I extended an arm. "And you must be getting hungry."

She perked her head up. "I'm alright, but…" She shifted atop the board, causing it to wobble slightly.

"It's alright, come on." I said with a smile.

Tetra gave me a wide grin that showed the kind of teeth that left no doubt to the nature of minks as predators. With a gleam in her glowing eyes, she launched herself towards me like a gunshot, sending her board flying backwards across the ground. Just before she reached me her body exploded into millions of red fibers that collided with my chest and quickly wrapped around my exposed neck and down my uncovered arms.

The result combined her shapeshifting coat into a kind of skin tight jacket covering the glowing fibers of her body which surged with light the moment they touched my skin. I felt the drain and was once again aware of how crippling it would have been just a couple of days ago. No, actually this level of drain would have been quickly lethal, even with my reinforcement and demigod endurance. I could feel my heartbeat pick up in response, but only slightly. To the steady beat of my rebuilt heart this was nothing.

I shifted my arms experimentally as Tetra continued to constrict around me like a nest of cheese wire. There was resistance, but not enough to keep me from moving, not with my level of strength. I tested out the range of motion before turning to Garment.

"So, what did you think?" She indicated that she felt it was generally acceptable, but would need to see the collected footage to be sure. She also suggested that her earlier designs would have been much better than the compromises we had agreed to. Surprisingly, this time she wasn't talking about Barbarian Chic.

"Garment I've told you…" She began to gesture, but I cut her off. "Told you. Yes, I know those were fantastic, thematic, and entirely appropriate to the venue while being an ideal combination of historic and forward-looking design, but I TOLD YOU, you can't use volcanic glass, not as long as Shatterbird is out there. Even if it stays in the Workshop…" her horror at the concept was apparent. "It's too risky."

Through a series or rather concise gestures Garment conveyed what she thought about the situation, the restriction on her work, the Slaughterhouse Nine, and Shatterbird in particular. Specifically, her thoughts on the villain's mindset, fashion sense, and parentage, all finishing with an assortment of rather vivid gestures that I would have been able to understand even without any help from my fashion sense power.

"Right, well, we need to get back up to the labs." She made a gesture of agreement and indicated towards the nearest entrance. Thankfully navigating the workshop wasn't as bad as it had been before. Considering the staggering volume of the place, anything outside the central area had been a nightmare to reach. That was before the last round of upgrades.

The duplicates hadn't just rebuilt every device in my workshop by hand and with the most advanced technology. In fact, that had been a fairly trivial endeavor. My build rate and the fact that I could do the work of a hundred people simultaneously had made mundane upgrades inconsequential. Of course, in this sense 'mundane' meant rebuilt with a combination of cybertonium and assorted magical metals, all enhanced to various degrees and infused with additional characteristics and the properties of unique Dust blends while being enchanted by elven magic, infused with mana, and finished by hand to ensure the final result was a beyond perfect divine object. That was currently the standard level of my workshop equipment, and completing the work hadn't taken a tenth of the time.

Once that was completed the duplicates were able to move onto other projects, including the issue of getting around a base the size of an entire mountain. There were various possibilities including small vehicles, gravity shafts, turbo lifts, or even teleporters. In the end there was a far easier solution. Multiple fields of technology already cover aspects of warping space, demigod arts can easily manage it, and, simplest of all, Simple Scientific Solution was perfectly capable of addressing the problem. The layout took some getting used to, but rather than muck around with teleporters or high-speed transports shafts it was easier to just build doors that opened to another part of the volcano.

It didn't take long for Garment and I to make our way to a door at the base that opened into the upper workshop, near Garment's textile space. I handed off the boards to one of the standard drones to be taken back to the caldera and followed Garment into her workspace. Really, collaborating was a different experience now that I could properly follow her side of the conversation.

"No, I don't think they need a complete rework, but if you find some things you want to tweak on review I can help you with that later." I replied to her gestured question. "Plus, I should probably get changed if the duplicates want me for something."

She nodded and indicated to the rebuilt 'Iconic Outfit' that stood proudly in the section of her workshop reserved for our collaborative projects. Items built with the combination of my style powers and Garment's direction had a character leagues apart from her standard work. Once again, despite the obvious gap I never got the sense that she valued her own projects any less, or that there was any envy over what I could accomplish compared to her. In fact, she seemed to treasure all of her creations, which had made her recent decision all the more meaningful.

I checked in with Survey's monitoring of the situation as I began to get changed. While I'm sure it made no difference to Garment, she had a screen available that I'm sad to say actually did put me at ease quite a bit. "It looks like everything's on track with the auction. Uh, lots of positive buzz online, especially around the display videos. It will have to wait until they get to New York for assessment before we get any idea of the offers, but it looks like it's going to really make a difference, at least in the short term."

Garment showed how happy she was with the situation, but also gestured sadly at an empty section of hangars. Specifically, a section that had previously held some of the first items she had ever made.

One of the most frustrating things about the situation was both knowing how badly people were hurting out in the city, and knowing how limited I was to act to help them. I had seen the damage as it happened and probably had a more thorough assessment of it than anyone on the planet. I had reviewed what my duplicates had done to help in the aftermath and knew the difference it had made, but I also knew how much more there was to do. How many people had been hurt or displaced, and how overtaxed the city's shelters and emergency services were. It was hard to have fun in my workshop while people were trying to pull their lives together, but no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't just march out there and start putting things right.

Though I could do the next best thing. When I had been preparing to call Weld, I had gotten a power called Shipping the Product. It was primarily a production booster, put in three times the materials and get five times as many results. It seemed redundant with Workaholic, except like all my powers they could stack with each other, meaning potentially twenty-five items produced at a time for only three times the materials, and that wasn't factoring in my material reduction powers.

It would have been handy, but not particularly noteworthy if not for a secondary aspect of the power. It increased my 'logistics' making anything I shipped harder to intercept and allowing me to keep my allies supplied. That was it. Increased logistics. Not a better understanding of logistics, or improved logistical skill, not even an understanding of the logistical dynamics in a current area. Just straight up increased logistics; to the point of being able to get something where I needed it.

Well, as long as it was going to an 'ally'. I couldn't use this as a form of attack, but for anything mundane or beneficial I could ensure that whatever I wanted got wherever it needed to be. I could even counter interception, bypass inspection, and conceal the source. And that was exactly what I'd been doing.

I had wondered, with all my production ability and all my resource conservation and recovery powers, if push came to shove how many people could I actually supply with necessities? It turns out the answer was 'a lot more than I can do without raising suspicion'. In my workshop I was capable of producing an incredible amount of food, clothing, and various sundries. Too much really, and at too high a level of quality to go by unnoticed. Anything I directly made would be subject to a vast array of enhancement powers. However, if I handed off the production to someone else, say a highly motivated nanobot array with molecular assembly capabilities, then the items could be produced perfectly, with no connection to my abilities and in huge quantities.

The fact that the work required us to produce as many handmade and specifically directed nanobots as possible, or Tier 1 and Tier 2, as Matrix had taken to referring to them, certainly helped build enthusiasm for the project. It also led to the design of an updated nanobot, one utilizing enhanced cybertonium, rather than the emulated variety, as well as an assortment of new technologies that had been gained since the last round of nanobot construction. The presence of Generation 2 nanobots delighted Matrix, though it seemed to create some reconsideration of the various tiers that had been assigned.

Matrix was able to assemble food items in their entirety. While I'm sure it would be possible, if a little challenging, to generate fresh produce and meat products, the focus of disaster relief donations was on non-perishables, and those were what was produced en masse. Everything from ramen to entire cans of beans and soup were effectively printed by the pallet. At that point it was sent off with the assistance of one of Fleet's stealth drones and my logistics powers to ensure it arrived where it needed to be without arousing suspicion.

I didn't stop there. The production went all out with clothes, toiletries, small toys and other comfort items produced by the bushel. I could have easily produced the highest quality examples of every item that had ever graced the face of the earth, but I was actively trying to avoid notice. It was actually more of a challenge to make things that wouldn't attract attention. Bulk sets of tasty and nourishing canned goods that weren't particularly in demand, but were still technically good wouldn't draw any attention. Likewise, shipments of extremely generic toothbrushes, soap, shampoo or other items that either gave the sense of having been grabbed from the dollar store by the box or found to be surplus in some fashion.

The clothes were their own adventure and involved either generating them with procedurally applied wear patterns to create the impression of being at least third hand, or sending 'new' items that were so out of date it created the impression they had probably been dumped from a clearance rack straight into the donation box. Garment actually had fun joining in on that, enjoying the challenge of providing clothes that were obviously old and dated without being completely horrible in design or construction. Though I don't think she really forgave me for insisting on keeping the quality of fabric and stitching at the level of what was commercially available, rather than her own standards.

The result was that the city's shelters, soup kitchens, and other services had seen a swell of donations, particularly over the night. Not enough to arouse suspicion, particularly with the nature of the products in question, but enough to make things a bit easier for people and get a mention in the press. And all of them had been produced in my workshop, through a collaborative team effort.

Essentially my duplicates and I built nanobots and the nanobots assembled the required items. With my material analysis scanners, it was possible to determine composition of items down to a molecular level, at which point the Matrix could assemble them like a Star Trek replicator.

Which was something I could also build, but the research, development and prototyping time was prohibitive, particularly with Matrix being essentially able to accomplish the same task. Given the bundle of skills associated with that universe I had hoped that there would be some kind of design or technology power in the cluster, but it hadn't shown itself so far.

To be fair, the flow of powers had slowed down since I decided to take a break. It had been a torrent for an extended period, absolutely peaking during the fight against Lung and still going strong in the aftermath. Following a few connections while working up to and actually undertaking the call with Weld the torrent had dropped to a trickle.

After the logistics power I had gotten a new piece of alchemy equipment. The machine was the size of a pair of refrigerators, but what it could do was absolutely fantastic. It could automate and enhance any alchemy process. Absolutely anything that my powers regarded as alchemy could be handled by the machine, at which point it would run continuously at a rate of significantly boosted production and drastically enhanced potency of the result.

The significance of that couldn't be overstated. I had set it up for production of red healing potions before I took my nap. Well, I actually slept for over four hours, meaning I actually got a full night's sleep for the first time since this mess started. Anyway, once I woke up I found the machine had produced enough potions to treat an army, and potions of a quality beyond the ridiculous level I was already capable of. The fact that I couldn't just start sending them out to hospitals burned, but it was something I'd been dealing with since I got these abilities.

On a more directly practical note, duplication potions produced with the Alchemy Machine were significantly improved. Initial batches had a duration of two and a half hours, but the big thing was that the machine was a machine. It had elements to its operation I couldn't replicate, but I could improve what was already there. After a series of rebuilds, efficiency boosts, and miniaturization the potions could produce highly durable duplicates who lasted for three hours. More importantly, the machine was small enough that I could duplicate it along with the rest of my worn equipment. Considering the insanity of one autonomous potion machine, having three at the same time was just insane, to say nothing of what I might actually be able to pull off from using it in the field. Yeah, it was still the size of a briefcase even after the work of all my powers, but I already had ideas about how to make it work.

The power after that was still useful, but less of a game changer. It was called Technical Certainties and it was related to the same ability that gave me my hangar and my F-18. As would be expected, it had to do with planes. It had a lot to do with planes. Innate understanding of jets, the ability to apply blanket upgrades, the design specifications necessary to customize a plane to any role imaginable, and even slaving ground weapons as systems to a jet's computers, letting it act as a command vessel for an entire war. What's more, the principles extended to an entire class of 'superweapons'. While the majority of them weren't impressive by my level of technology, the fact that they accomplished their feats while operating on mostly conventional tech was incredible, particularly when the potential of a properly upgraded Arsenal Bird was considered.

It was a power that Fleet was entirely too excited about and one that I had limited plans for. It was also the last power before the rate greatly dropped off. That was kind of obvious considering the next thing I did was go to sleep before I could get distracted and caught up in another crisis. After waking up it was a while before I even felt the first attempted connection, and it was nothing but a missed connection to the size constellation.

The next connection was a few hours later, and was actually a significant power. It was a small power from the knowledge constellation called Technomage. It was linked with the power that gave me my striker and provided the entire technical knowledge base behind the device. Everything from the development to customization was provided. Not just what was needed to build a striker, but the principles behind one. It even gave me insight into the construction of ground attack strikers, which held the same principles but applied them to the realm of tanks instead of warplanes.

Still, no hint on how to get around the limitations on pants, or the necessity of fluffy ears.

The biggest part was that the power gave me the ability to integrate other forms of technology into a striker perfectly. No matter how advanced, bulky, or fundamentally incompatible, I could make it work. Cybertronian technology, mass effect drives, Mobile Suit tech, I could fold it all into the same place.

What's more, there was a special relationship between strikers and the power set that provided Technical Certainties. As far as that set of powers were concerned, strikers were jets, and anything that applied to them applied to strikers, at least when I was involved. That included my Missile Surplus power, which could actually mount full sized missiles despite the size of the striker units in question. It was also why I got an entirely new, automated hanger for my striker and why every technological upgrade and feature that Technical Certainties brought to the table perfectly meshed with striker technology.

As I continued to get changed I looked over at my new costume, and specifically at the boots. I had waxed poetic about how powerful they were when I first constructed them and while they had certainly performed well during my fight with the ABB they were far from the defining force they had the potential to be. That wasn't the case anymore.

When I built the boots, I had specifically refrained from hybridizing them, electing to wait until I found the right technology. Well, with my striker and the ability to seamlessly integrate every form of technology I had access to, I had found my answer. After the effect of Ambrosial Artificer and Gadget Master the striker had been stripped down and reduced in size to the point where it matched up perfectly with my boots. Every form of technology I could integrate was folded into the devices systems, enhanced with the full weight of my magitech knowledge and enchanted with everything short of an elven naming. When it was hybridized together with my boots the two divine objects built on each other, doubling their power reserves and expanding their capabilities even further.

When I started upgrading them I imagined the end result like wearing a tank on each foot. On completion I realized that badly undersold the destructive potential. It was closer to a battleship, and not one from the marine navy. To truly get a sense of what these were capable of you needed to look at starships. Just the missile load present in them made the combined output of three motoroids look trivial. And it was part of my regular cape costume.

I considered the downside of that situation as I continued to get changed. Despite all the technological wonders I could build into a striker I couldn't address the incompatibility with pants. Garment had found a solution to that and, while I wasn't thrilled about it, there was a level of firepower that could justify any fashion choice. Strikers weren't incompatible with pants, they were just incompatible with any thick, loose leg covering. If the material was tight enough the striker could maintain a steady connection to your magical source and the circulation of energy wouldn't be disrupted.

Now, thanks to the miracle of my textile technology it didn't need to be a permanent change, but it was set so that upon striker activation the trousers of my costume, normally a very comfortably fitting cut, would 'adjust' themselves for the purpose of compatibility. Think skinny jeans, and then take it two steps further.

Considering the amount of firepower I would be walking around with, it was probably a good thing to have some restraint on its use, though Garment definitely preferred the cut of the costume when 'striker mode' was active. I wasn't convinced, even if Survey's web analysis suggested a significantly positive response from several major demographics.

The thoughts of my costume brought my mind back to Garment's contribution. "They don't have a good sense of what they will go for, but it could be big. The fact that it's for charity will make a difference, and people know what offering your early work means."

It was Garment's response, well really her follow up to my own work for the city. With the scale of what we were doing we had hit the limit of deniability within a single set of duplicates' 20% time. We could have fed everyone, rebuilt houses, or made a difference in any number of ways, but we couldn't. Not with what was in play. Garment wasn't satisfied with that. She wanted to help more, and as a public figure she could actually take action. And as someone with perfect knowledge of how to run every aspect of a clothing business and supernaturally enhanced logistics, I could make it happen.

I had made a difference, but there were problems that couldn't be addressed with canned food or 'old' clothes. It would take a titanic amount of money to get people back on their feet, and even tiding them over would be ruinously costly. They needed help, and the sooner the better. So, Garment had taken steps. She had put up a set of her early works for auction, first announced through her YouTube page and social media, then through communications with charity funds and sites that could hold a proper auction and conduct an assessment of the items in question. It was the kind of thing where you could have put the clothes on eBay, but the extra steps would both increase the return and the social response.

There was already a boost in donations from Garment's followers, completely unrelated to the auction itself. The items were all shipped and would arrive in the morning, which meant the next few hours, at which point they could be assessed, appraised, and an actual auction held. It was presumptuous for a designer of Garment's inexperience, but the quality of her work had quickly become apparent, and between my own innate understanding of the principles in play and Survey's role as Garment's advocate we would be able to turn this into something that would have substantial benefits for the city. The fact that it would help Garment's reputation was strictly a side benefit, though not one we were willing to let pass unexploited.

I finished changing as the Crafting constellation passed by. It was the first failed connection since Clothing had passed by just before we started our run down the mountain.

After the Technomage power it had taken hours before the next connection attempt, resulting in a missed link to the Magic constellation. Really I hadn't missed the flow of new powers. It actually let me focus on training, relaxation, and enjoying the downtime. Well, there was one niggling element of Technomage, and I could actually see it from here. The bomber jacket hung on one of Garment's racks, emblazoned with the word "Apeiron" across the back. It was a free item that was provided with Technomage and the name was connected to a second free ability, Call Sign. It meant that all of my allies in the field would recognize my name and associate it with me. It was the kind of thing that had potential to raise more master alarms, but that ship had sailed. Besides, it wasn't what was concerning about the jacket.

Every item of clothing I'd received from the Forge had been perfectly sized for me. Even as my build and body shape shifted they changed to match. Given my tailoring skills it wasn't really necessary, but it was nice. It made it feel like the items were intended for me.

This jacket was not in my size. It was not anywhere close to my size. It was clearly mine; it had my name on it, but I wouldn't have fit in it in eighth grade. I probably wouldn't have fit into it at any point, because the cut of the jacket was very particular.

Once again, master tailor. Could tell immediately. The jacket was cut to fit a girl, most likely a teenage girl. Given the magic associated with strikers was only supposed to be present in women, and was supposed to fade after your teenage years, that shouldn't have been surprising. It probably wouldn't have been, if not for the fact that it was my name on the thing, and there was definitely a feel that I was associated with it.

The prospect that this was from another universe brought its own problems, particularly in relation to the regiment patch on the jacket and the clear military aspects of the strikers. If I was connecting to other universes for power it was clear some of them were not nice places. I had already gotten that sense, but you tended to expect it from the nightmare lab of impossible colors, not the land of flying teenage girls with animal ears.

I sighed and moved around the changing screen. Garment had changed from her 'lava suit' into one of her more traditional dresses. I was mostly changed, but had a single obstacle preventing me from completing the task.

I tugged on Tetra's threads, causing them to flare from the additional contact. "You ready to let up now?" I asked.

The red cords shifted around my arms and shoulder. "Five more…" Tetra seemed to notice Garment's attention swinging towards her. "Okay, I'm okay."

Slowly the cords began to peel themselves back from my skin, somehow moving with a sense of reluctance. Finally, when they were sufficiently withdrawn they condensed together and shifted into a sleepy looking mink. A mink which then yawned in an absolutely terrifying display of teeth.

The biological mess that characterized both me and Tetra was absolutely fascinating. It was a problem I had largely given up on tackling in any decent timeframe, at least until my latest power arrived. After the failed connection to the Magic constellation there was a missed link to Vehicles before finally the forge landed on the Knowledge constellation. And not just any part of that constellation, but the cluster representing Star Trek skills.

I had built up enough reach to secure three more of the motes in that cluster. The Skills I acquired were Stealth, which actually expanded beyond just furtive movement to the art behind unseen takedowns, infiltration of secure facilities and even the planning and execution of major thefts, all to the incredible level of proficiency associated with that skill. Likewise, the second mote was Navigation, and while it did cover mundane and conventional means of finding your way on a planet's surface, the real meat of the skill was plotting interstellar courses. The considerations that needed to go into various types of FTL travel were unbelievably intense, and I had just gotten instant mastery of the concept.

Both skills were useful, but they had nothing on the final one. Skill: Medicine. One skill and suddenly I was a doctor. Not some mad alchemist sawbones, but a real doctor with a body of knowledge beyond anything possible for the next four centuries. Knowing this was somehow connected with Star Trek made it all the more significant. This was the full body of knowledge and concepts behind the miracles of Starfleet Medical. It was an incredible power, but in a lot of ways it was the hardest to deal with.

Knowing there were hungry people in this city and I had the ability to print food was difficult. Knowing there were people dying in the world when I held the cures to any number of horrible diseases was a nightmare. Nothing had tested my conviction to keep my head down quite like the MULTIPLE CURES FOR CANCER that I currently had bouncing around in my head. I wanted to take a 'damn the torpedoes' stance and step out there with the cures for the vast majority of man's illnesses, but I had to remember the quagmire waiting for me. Not just me, but everyone I cared about and everyone relying on me. There were too many balls in the air, and it was too delicate a balance to ruin it on one single, if well placed, impulse.

Instead, I used it, let it build my determination. I could make a difference, a fundamental difference. If I could see this situation through, a better world would be waiting for us, for all of humanity. I just had to hold out, press through and make it until then.

I finished putting on my costume, including replacing the dueling cloak in its usual position. Once I was dressed, Tetra scampered up my back and rested her head against my neck. The fibers flared from the drain, but it didn't bother me. The balancing of her energy needs was something Tetra was still struggling with. Until this point, she had spent her existence either in stasis or feeding to her heart's content. The idea of storing energy or functioning without an external power source was still new for her. She was getting better, but currently had the battery life of an old cell phone, one that you needed to leave plugged in all the time if you wanted it to function.

I was about to dive into the details of Garment's auction when I got a message from my duplicates. One that brought up feelings of excitement and apprehension. After how the last attempt had gone I was understandably worried, but that wasn't going to stop me. Not with an opportunity like this.

I detected the same message being relayed to Tetra through the infrared transmitters built into the workshop. She instantly perked up and turned to me.

"Don't worry." I assured her. "We're going." I read the message again and smiled.

"Just hit 20% time. Bring Tetra and meet us in the upper level. We're going to try out the Mechs again."

Jumpchain abilities this chapter:

Technomage (Strike Witches) 200:
Strike Witches generally rely on service crews to tune and repair their striker, but not you. You'll be able to do the job much better and be able to modify your Striker to aid you focus your speed, defence or attack if you have offensive magical abilities. If you have technology from other jumps you'll be able to incorporate them into your striker and with enough time make one from scratch.

Bomber Jacket (Strike Witches) Free:
Discount Army Surplus offering customised bomber jacket for free to any and all of our STRIKE WITCH HEROS. Call through and give your Regiment, Call-sign and Address and will mail out in a day with Regiment patch and Call-sign embodied. Go get 'em girls! Ph: 123-456-7890

Call sign (Strike Witches) Free:
Attention all military personnel, due to the recent alliances several documents of low importance have gone missing. It is important that you announce your call sign to your direct superior as soon as possible. All your comrades will know you by it, and if you don't tell us one will simply be appointed to you during your next Sortie.

Skills: Stealth (Star Trek - TNG+DS9) 100:
Your ability to sneak around unnoticed. This will help you take down enemies unnoticed, infiltrate secure facilities, and steal thing without being detected.

Skills: Medicine (Star Trek - TNG+DS9) 100:
Training and knowledge in First-aid, diseases, surgery, anatomy, health and nutrition. You're a fully qualified doctor of the 24th century.

Skills: Navigation (Star Trek - TNG+DS9) 100:
Training in how to locate your position and plot courses. You can navigate both with a computer, and without one using astronomy.

 

[Dancingrage]

Achieve the MEME! Thanks for the update, Lord Roustabout! *Goes to read*

Good timing on the wait.

 

[SiegfriedisOP]

We did it people! This chapter is in page 690. Congratulations all around.

 

[FacelessRobot]

(Author's Note: I've been fielding criticism about the pace of the story for some time now, and I wasn't until this chapter that I realized how much it had been wearing on me. The structure and style of this story makes a fast-paced narrative very difficult. That wasn't what I started out with the intention of producing, and trying to reconcile the way I had been writing the story with pushes for a advancing plot was causing problems in my writing process. I wasn't enjoying the time I spent on the story because I was too concerned with the amount of ground that would be covered in a chapter. It made me realize how close to burn out I had become.

Because of that, and because I very much do not want this story to end prematurely, I'm going back to writing the way I used to. I know there are people who think the pacing is intolerable, and you are of course free to voice your opinion on that matter, but I will not be interaction with comments on that topic in the future.

This was written very much as a breather chapter and was probably the first chapter in quite a while where I enjoyed writing it from start to finish. It's shorter than I would have liked, doesn't cover much time, and could probably have used extra revisions, but the important thing is that I finally feel like I am getting more out of writing the story than it is taking out of me. For me that is more important than any other concerns.)

Click to shrink...

GOOD!

I haven't commented much on this because I don't like arguments or conflict, but it has been really annoying me seeing you constantly apologize for the pacing, and all the people complaining about it. I love the pacing. I love every little detail you go into about the newest perks, the interactions between them, and the detailed introspection that Joe frequently gets lost in as he becomes More.

I've definitely, personally, noticed the quality difference between when you were enjoying yourself and when you started trying to advance the plot faster to satisfy the complaintants.

I reccomend just ignoring any criticism that is not related to spelling/grammar/wordflow. The last 5-10 chapters have almost had a "written by committee" feel because of you trying to satisfy everyone.

 

[Graviator]

Over the past weeks I had been moving so fast, working so hard, that it was like I had lost track of what I was really dealing with. I'd been so focused on what I needed to do, on making it to the next crisis and wringing what use I could out of my latest ability that the grandeur of what I was working with had largely passed me by.

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This very much feels like an extension of the author's note that just happens to be voiced in-character.

 

[SiegfriedisOP]

I don't know if it's just me but the way this chapter handled perks confused me. I wasn't sure if the perks that appeared in this chapter happened in the present or if he gained them in the past and is discussing them now.

 

[Tiz Goldeneye]

Lord I hope you can enjoy writing this wonderful story. You do you!

As for the chapter itself, well I'm glad Joe is starting to relax, it's a good thing to see. I really hope the PRT will clear Joe of master suspicions soon. He can heal a lot for people with just single effect, high powered items allowing for local help, even if he doesn't go big and release the multiple world changing medicines he has.

Not sure if Joe would count it as work or not, but I am also excited to see him crack Bakuda's Deadman code. So if he can crack it during his brake as a brain teaser, and then actually go after her once his two days are up I would be pretty happy to see it.

One things for sure, this will be a fun adventure and I'm excited to see more of it!

 

[Pettrip]

@LordRoustabout

I draw because it is my way to express myself and what makes me happy. I believe it is the same with writing or any creative outlet.

I know how it feels when your very hobby that once made you happy, becomes the thing that burns you out. It is not a good feeling and it took me years to find that spark again.

My advice is do what make this hobby fun for you regardless on what other say, at the end of the day you made this for yourself first, the others are second.

 

[Image]

Heh. He did get a doctor skill after the surgery. HAH!
Him groking that he's pulling stuff from outside is good character growth. Tetra is good daughteru but Garment has gone Full Best Waifu. Like Oh man. Joe needs to put a ring on that stat.

 

[RogerDodger123]

Well, that Skills: Medicine is extremely helpful. Could that help with Case 53's?

 

[AntaeusTheGiant]

Through a series or rather concise gestures Garment conveyed what she thought about the situation, the restriction on her work, the Slaughterhouse Nine, and Shatterbird in particular. Specifically, her thoughts on the villain's mindset, fashion sense, and parentage, all finishing with an assortment of rather vivid gestures that I would have been able to understand even without any help from my fashion sense power.

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Has.. has Garment found her Arch-nemesis? How sweet! Shatterbird, your days are numbered, the Spirit of Fashion has determined that you will meet your doom.

 

[Whamodyne]

As I said on the discord, I would pay good money to watch Volcano Surfing by SurveySports(tm)

I can just see Survey outperforming Uber and Leet at their own game the next go round.

 

[dhruvsl]

I can see Survey releasing the news recording as a joke. Everyone thinks it's CGI and thinkers are loosing their minds knowing it's real.

 

[Idoneior]

I don't know if it's just me but the way this chapter handled perks confused me. I wasn't sure if the perks that appeared in this chapter happened in the present or if he gained them in the past and is discussing them now.

Click to shrink...

This makes sense to me in terms of authorial license. A lot of the most recent chapter is taken up by introspective contemplation of the character's actions over the past day or so. (Typically a stylistic no-no, but I think the pacing of presenting it after the volcano activity actually works well here.) It makes a lot more in-universe sense if these multiple new perks actually appeared over the course of that day rather than randomly springing up in rapid succession while he's merely thinking about stuff he's done recently. At least implicitly, there's supposed to be some sort of rule that new perks are triggered by "interesting" activity, and actually doing stuff is more interesting than reviewing that stuff after the fact.

Since the whole time period is technically "covered" by this chapter anyway I think placing the precise appearance time where it makes the most sense obeys the Forge rules well enough.

 

[Luckyplucky21]

@LordRoustabout Great Chapter and I'm happy that you are enjoying writing this again, and yes your story so write it how you want to write it.

Having said that; so a series of questions?

1.What kind of starships are those boots and I mean from what series because they tend to vary in power but destroying cities is almost universal.
2.With his new perks would do something in the Somer Rock event beyond Victor rising more eyebrow at his vast repertoire of knowledge?
3.What would tattletale infer if she would to see the jacket?
4.What is capable the current duelist cape that Joe has, could it be modified to act as the ones in Code Vein or similar(if you don't know they are basically duelist capes that transforms to do an attack a claw, a pair of wolf heads, an stinger, etc; search blood veils if you are curious)?
5.could he make focus for the parahuman powers and what it could do to them, for example giving one to Ashia?
6.How well he can cure case 53 now, adding the study of their power effects and unique biology?
7.What would be the reaction of the world to Tetra, and what would be the reaction of Joe acquaintances?

 

[Brass&Bone]

The only reason the pacing is an issue is that Joe gains more power from word count. This brings about a recursive problem where time spent exploring the implications of powers results in more powers to explore the implications of. When a fight scene happens, it becomes impossible to use all the powers in a satisfying way, because quite a few should end the fight in moments.

 

[Aurora Moon]

didn't some people make omakes about whenever Roustabout would get the strike witches perk? and he just got it... lol.

 

[ComradeGrim69]

It's shorter than I would have liked

Click to shrink...

Its 15k words....
What.....

 

[derpydude9001]

Sad no avid glove. at this point, the thing HAS to be cursed, how could it not be rolled ONCE after all this time! All that was needed was for the clothing constellation to be rolled but no! The dice seem to hate that little guy.

 

[Aurora Moon]

Sad no avid glove. at this point, the thing HAS to be cursed, how could it not be rolled ONCE after all this time! All that was needed was for the clothing constellation to be rolled but no! The dice seem to hate that little guy.

Click to shrink...

The RNG seems to be different for each writer. in Missy's Celestial Brother, the SI got that one almost off the bat but seemed to have some terrible luck getting anything else good.

 

[Cosmic]

Thanks for the chapter! Really love the interactions in this chapter and I'm really glad Joe is relaxing. I'm glad you've decided to write the way you want and enjoy. Keep up the great work!

Combined it allowed me to more than match Garment's display. I didn't have her frankly cheating level of control of her board, but my recently acquired Efficiency power prevented any wasted movement or excess energy. I was able to smoothly launch into a flip that took me further down the mountain that even Tetra had managed, landing instinctively on a warmed section of lava that allowed me to keep up my speed.
Tetra cried in protest as she was forced to pull out of my wake, losing speed and leaving her struggling to get back on track. She hadn't been neglected in the issuing of new fashions for the sport, but Garment had limited her offerings to a zip up jacket fitted for her mink form. It seemed Garment was limiting what she made for Tetra to outer layers on a logic of that being the clothes that were worn over clothes. I wasn't entirely comfortable with Garment regarding Tetra as clothes, but it quickly became clear that Garment saw no reason why being clothes would mean someone wasn't also a person. In Garment's mind Tetra was clothes that happened to also be a fully sapient being, and it seemed Tatra had no issue with that designation.

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Should be a paragraph space here.

 

[adoltin]

I loved this chapter so much. Just everything about it. Joe was taking a breather and I could feel that as a reader. It felt like I was taking a breather too.

I'm looking forward to what comes next, I assume the message was about the meeting at Somer's Rock? Even if it wasn't, that's something I'm looking forward to so much. I just want Apeiron to show up "fashionably" late and utterly take control of the meeting, but in a way no one even realizes because of how natural he is about it.

 

[Mizu]

The prospect that this was from another universe brought its own problems, particularly in relation to the regiment patch on the jacket and the clear military aspects of the strikers. If I was connecting to other universes for power it was clear some of them were not nice places. I had already gotten that sense, but you tended to expect it from the nightmare lab of impossible colors, not the land of flying teenage girls with animal ears.

Click to shrink...

This made me chuckle, heh. Despite the flashy visuals and, well, entire outfit design behind Striker Units and who pilot them, the world depicted in Strike Witches media is indeed a pretty sucky one - as you'd expect for a group undergoing WW2 vs aliens. Or just WW2 in general, really.

 

[morkail]

Ahh that's the good stuff, thanks for the chapter.

Sorry you feel pressured to push the narrative faster then you would like I think most of it comes from the fact most of us readers are just looking for that next fix. You did a incredible job building up his character both good and bad and it felt like a massive pay off to see the battle between him and lung. It was the same feeling I got the first time I beat a hard boss in dark souls so of course we want that same feeling RIGHT FUCKING NOW! But sadly that's not a reasonable expectation go at your own pace it's what got everyone invested in the first place.

 

[Graviator]

I'm looking forward to what comes next, I assume the message was about the meeting at Somer's Rock?

Click to shrink...

The message was the "Just hit 20% time" line.