Adam just blinked as Sarah began undergoing the insertion process.
Deciding to just go with the one option, forget the rest? That had probably been for the best.
There WERE a bunch of 'free' purchases on the documents, and some more sections about offering extra points for certain sections and all that… But trying to use two Jump Documents on one trip was already a bit questionable.
Oh, Sarah would be fine, he'd make sure of it… But reality might get a bit odd.
At least until 'Research' gets enough data to better adjust Sarah's systems… Not so much to 'protect' her from harm, but to ALLOW reality to twist her in similar ways so she can properly 'align' with the local rules and guidelines.
After all, if your timestream is warped and space is bent… The people INSIDE the situation might never even notice.
So the biggest worry Adam had here was NOT Sarah getting hurt… But that he might have set her defenses to such an advanced level that it would complicate the insertion process.
He stared, confused, as Sarah joined with herself in a hospital coma ward… AND as a betrayed security guard locked under Arkham Asylum in the sewer system, about to be hunted by Killer Croc.
Sigh.
Shit like this.
THIS is why he was worried.
Adam kept an eye on BOTH of his new Jumpers… Who were the same Jumper? She didn't spawn a clone at least. Either way, she could handle this no doubt… And he'd be here if something more unexpected cropped up.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Sarah Everoot flinched, still unable to move.
Professor Marc LeGrande and Dr. Jason Woodrue had betrayed them, and her nightmare of suffering had spiraled from there.
But still, after all this time, her mind drifted back to the cause of all this.
How… How did those monsters even meet? She knew that Dr. Isley had been flattered and pursued by Dr. Woodrue, but they had always stayed appropriate in the laboratory. Never showed anything improper or suspicious.
And Professor LeGrande had been a friendly source of odd materials and rare items for the team, and Pacific Botanical Laboratories was THE top botanical research facility in Seattle Washington…
Neither one seemed to know or mention the other. Not that she had cared much back then, nor had she been worried or paranoid, or watchful.
It all seemed so simple. So basic.
But now all she could hear were the screams. Unable to move, forced to breathe.
And the memories looped again. The only source of distraction.
Dr. Isley, frantically pushing through the broken glass and fumes and chemicals that were flooding the room, trying to get us, her people, out of the growing clouds of poisons and reacting chemical disaster.
Pulling the ropes off us, attempting to move people far heavier than her, trying to wipe away toxic material and keep airways clear with what little she had.
Her whispered and cracked voice trying to convince the dying team members… It would be alright. She had set off the alarms, medical professionals were coming, it would be fine.
Sarah couldn't blame her.
It wasn't Dr. Isley that had drugged the team with something at the 'moral boost' event that she had been unexpectedly late joining. A party organized by the doctor's lover, someone they all trusted (If not all liked), and hosted in thanks by Professor LeGrande while the man gave endless praise to his victims.
It wasn't Dr. Isley that had dragged the entire team into one of the more dangerous testing labs, nor was she the one who bound their limbs and gagged each woman.
Professor LeGrande's past words of astonishment and satisfaction rang hollow, now that they knew he had wished to ensure that all their hard research on those egyptian ancient herbs… All their pride and effort… For all that to be known to a far more restricted audience.
And the betrayer of their leader, Dr. Woodrue, kept whispering half hearted apologies as he ensured they couldn't escape the upcoming 'accident', as he bound their limbs and ensured their drugged mouths couldn't scream for help or cry in pain or sorrow.
Why had they thought this was the best option? Both were men of science. Of learning.
Why had destroying the research group been their choice?
Team Isley was the best.
Researching near extinct plants with little to no funding and providing beyond astounding results, tracking lost data and forgotten lore while using modern equipment to redefine legends and myths.
Sure, they were young and more than a few people disregarded them due to their poverty, their races, and a few due to them being women.
But their work had been solid! Their professionalism top notch!
They… They were going to be going to the top! To prove all the naysayers that talent wasn't restricted to the connected and the socially powerful!
Now… Team Isley was simply a historical side note.
Though… Though the team may be down to Sarah and Dr. Isley now. It was hard to tell, trapped in this broken and fractured mortal shell.
But… No one had visited her for months now. Maybe years.
A lot of the girls didn't have family that cared about them, but if any others had survived… Sarah was sure they would have visited by now. And, from her nightmares, the other girls looked pretty bad off before her body began to fail in that deadly cocktail of unknown materials and chemicals.
Her body shuddered, still locked in her mind.
Soon… Maybe only Dr. Isley would be left of their team.
And… And Sarah wasn't even sure about that.
Those shaking hands trying to wipe away burning ooze, not letting go of her body even as hair and skin began to fall away with each attempt to help.
Those hands had been hurting too.
She… She was probably fine.
Unlike the rest, Dr. Isley never drank the poisoned drinks. She didn't get the shots. And she missed a lot of the chemical reactions that alerted others to the new 'party room' in the first place.
Her exposure should be drastically lower, and hopefully survivable.
Maybe… Maybe Dr. Isley was in rehab? Or researching something to help reduce the pain?
Sarah Everoot flinched in one of the world's most premier medical centers,
Gotham General Hospital's coma ward, as something inside her C̟̖̣̯̤o̜̦̦̮̟n͈̟͖̥͓̳n͎e̦̫͕c̲͎̙̣̪t̼̞e͎d͇̰̹.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Sarah Esdat flinched as the distant gate slammed shut. "Come… Come on, Frank. This isn't funny."
Frank Boles would come back.
They would all come back.
They had to come back.
No one would just… Just trap someone down here, not where Killer Croc was 'contained'.
Her pleas were mostly whispers… "Frank? Boss?"
Could he even hear her now? Or had he gone back up already!?
Not that she dared call louder. Not here.
Not with a hungry monster that ate people somewhere, 'contained' in these tunnels of water runoff and flood control.
Something shifted behind her, and she forced herself not to move. Or scream.
Frank would come back, and if she made too much noise he might not find anyone when he returns. Or not all of her, at least.
{Abandoned.}
No, no. Frank was just… Just inappropriately hazing the new girl.
He was an inappropriate guy. Only men on his team, though she had thought it was due to HR complaints about his crass language, his harassment, and all that.
{Maybe only
men survived.}
No. This was… He would be back.
This was just to establish the pecking order.
And she had been careful. Never made too many waves, never pushed any buttons. She just needed to work here a bit and get out of debt.
Work at Arkham Asylum came with MASSIVE hazard pay, after all. If you could work here a year, you would have a HUGE nest egg to get back up on your feet.
Half the time it felt like working here was a rehabilitation system for the guards instead of the incurable nutjobs that lived here. More than a few people down on their luck or in harsh times came here to turn their lives around.
To escape the mafia, to pay debts, to get medical care for the family… Despite the horrific working conditions and dangerous environment and lacking oversight, this place was the last resort last chance gamble of the service industry.
And… And it looked like her last resort, last chance, might have been a check that just bounced.
{Hide?}
No. Killer Croc was a hunter. Sense of smell, astounding. Hearing? Especially with this much water around? Deadly.
Movement at ALL was just slicing her own throat.
{...Flee?}
As a last resort. Each step would cause ripples, echos, splashes… And honestly, there was nowhere to run to either.
But when she was found, if she had time to react, if he decided to play with his food… Yeah, she'd run.
Might only extend her life for a few minutes, but… But…
They would come back.
They would come back and she'd swear to follow orders and never report nothing and probably make… Certain compromises…
But at least she'd live.
{Was such an existence a life?}
Raped or not, it was the only chance to shank Frank later before he could do something like this to someone else later.
And while she may act demure and quiet, Sarah Esdat KNEW how to shank a mother fucker.
After all, working at Arkham Asylum was the LAST choice.
Working for criminals? Meh. Black markets? Please! Smugglers? Any day of the week! Politicians?
...Alright, working at Arkham Asylum was ALMOST the last choice.
A distant splash almost made her flinch.
{But movement was forbidden.}
Safe.
Killer Croc didn't often bother showing up at the gate when the guards did their rounds. Not after all this time. It was part of the reason she had let her defenses down, after weeks of just 'ensuring security' and moving on.
Until Frank quietly locked the gate behind her.
Until Frank left her.
{Bitch need's a good neck smile.}
She still had her hold out knife, though it wouldn't do much against Killer Croc. The creature needed a high amp, high voltage collar just to annoy him enough to not eat everyone. Basic bullets and knives? Forget about it.
She had her gun, but what of it? All it would do is expose her location.
{At least the blade felt good in her hands.}
Her fingers gently moved the knife into the metallic gate edges, trying to quietly test it. To just… Just get a sense of the thing.
Maybe… Maybe her smaller tools and equipment could do something where Killer Croc's massive claws and brute strength was restricted?
{No. It wouldn't work.}
But it was all she could do.
And so she would do so.
Sarah Esdat attempted to quietly lockpick an impossible to open gate hidden deep below the Intensive Treatment Center, within Elizabeth
Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane's underground secured sewer system containment facility, as something inside her C̟̖̣̯̤o̜̦̦̮̟n͈̟͖̥͓̳n͎e̦̫͕c̲͎̙̣̪t̼̞e͎d͇̰̹.
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Sarah was holding still/unable to move as she tried to stay quiet/couldn't make a sound.
How… How odd.
Her mind could see both locations easily enough… But more than that, how reality T̼w̳̙̭̩̘̗i͉̪̤̙͙s̻̝̼͔ͅte̮̰̖̗̺̞̘d to the sides and around.
Adam began doing something. <<Alright, 'Research' found the issues with using multiple Jump Documents that try to change insertion locations simultaneously, so this won't happen again.>>
She didn't dare speak/couldn't speak if she wanted to. <What do I do?>
He was shifting stuff. <<Right now, most of the errors are due to you being in two places at the same time, and I can fix it easy enough if you give me just a few…>>
Oh was that all?
"[[
S̮̬̤̱̹̬p̠̱̰a̭̦c̘̞͈͙̫̫ia͇͚̪͓͖l̻̝͇̗ ̗R͖͇̫̲̮͍͍ḛ͍͍̘u̲̘̬̘ṋ̖̞̳̫i̜o͎̳̝n͙̱͔̰̜͕͔.]]"
And she was THERE, both here and in her coma bed.
And reality quickly began to flow again, and somewhere out of touch of her S̥̥̥͕p̬͇̫̫̱̺̜a̤̜̗c̣̲̬̩̹e͔̭̭̱, Time uncurled and concepts realigned.
A mental sigh and amusement came through. <<...Or you could do that. I'll send the Data to 'Research' and you can decide if you want to keep both personas or simplify to one or whatever. I can see the whole Jump stabilizing now, though… Well, there are a few alterations.>>
It was easy enough to have her mind organize her memories into the Sarah hive as if they were both clones, and Sarah Everoot was going to be bed ridden for a while as she has a 'recovery' soon.
So Sarah Esdat it was!
Her body flickered, the security uniform shifting as she [[Harvested]] all her gear away, had Adam get to work upgrading that mess, and shifted into a nice blue business suit.
No, it didn't match the environment. No, she didn't give a fuck.
One unexpected issue came when she noticed her arm though.
Her silver tattoos had shifted.
They now looked like a mess of silver vine markings all over her body.
Neat! Though probably noticeable.
Adam hummed. <<Those shouldn't be an issue. Your Sarah Everoot self got the markings along with the plant abilities, and this Sarah Esdat covered up everything since this is a dangerous as hell place to work. And both of you have silver eyes and hair.>>
And apparently, from her memories, odd hair colors and eye effects were fairly common in this Jump. Alright, she could work with this.
That said… "Why ARE there a bunch of flooded tunnels locked away down here under the Intensive Treatment Center?"
A map came up. <<Some of the more strange plants and a few odd fish used for experimental testing on patients need high humidity or straight up flooding to grow or breed. Killer Croc basically acts as a custodian down here in return for certain… Benefits.>>
….Shit. "I'm a sacrifice down here, aren't I?" Fuck you, Frank.
He hummed. <<Not officially… But unofficially, it is one of the marks on the record of a partially 'successful' rehabilitation attempt. And people go missing in this place often enough.>>
Holy crap, that was some dark stuff.
Idly, she began taking samples of everything for the Warehouse to look into. "Anything I should grab while down here?"
Data came up about a monstrous and familiar figure. <<
Waylon Jones might choose to be a beast, but his body might have some interesting genetics to work with.>>
And… Memories of working on Dr. Isley's team began to tickle her biological tinkering side. And the cloning alteration options to test. "Bet I could make some recovery serums using his bullshit. Lord knows
Killer Croc manages to regenerate from his wounds fast enough to laugh at modern weaponry."
Best make sure it doesn't make people turn reptilian though… Or not? Sexy hybrid snake girls didn't sound THAT bad… Hmm.
Make it a choice? Volunteer sexy is best sexy, after all.
More data came up. <<Also, grab some of these things. These plants have some spores that help form an antidote to something called '
TITAN formula', an enhanced and modified variant of Bane's Venom, a super-soldier serum and ultra-steroid. It's far weaker than Bane's stuff, but is a one dose permanent body bulking enhancement drug that causes mental instability.>>
Oh. "Yeah, best pick up some of that. And maybe grab some TITAN samples too… And some of Bane's original Venom… Damn, Dr. Isley would have loved this stuff." Her memories felt sticky, but at least it was getting better.
Adam sighed. <<You'll probably find her in this place, known as
Poison Ivy.>>
What!? "I thought she'd be in the Seattle General Intensive Care Unit with us!?"
More information. <<None of you are over there anymore, all of you were brought to Gotham. Well, the ones who made it this long… You are located in Gotham General Hospital now.>>
Sarah began flicking through the data as he continued. <<I'm still hacking the local information networks, but I'm pretty sure they used your team to force the woman to help them develop the TITAN stuff in the first place.>>
A wave of relief hit her system. "Half my team is still alive!" Thank goodness! Poor little Jessie would need something to fix up the skin and Susan needed a limb or two, but she could do this!
Adam's silence made her feelings suddenly clench. "Right?" Shit, was she missing something!?
Hack the medical records, hack the private reports, hack the investigation details and the police records, and just in case: "[[
Scan]]."
Sarah stared at invisible data screens and information.
His sigh was heavy. <<I'm sorry, Sarah.>>
The more basic body stuff was easy enough to fix… But the chemicals injected into each person before the 'accident' were designed to damage brain tissue. To keep the perpetrators safe.
The only reason Dr. Isley didn't have similar issues as her team was because she missed the party… And the additional measures those fuckers took against them escaping their fate. The drugs and shots.
Sarah absently gripped the metal gate, the material flexing under her hand. "How did I keep enough brain matter to merge with myself?"
Adam sighed. <<You didn't. But unlike the rest, your Soul was sort of enhanced retroactively by the Jump, and the relevant memories were stored there. When you fully hooked up, there was something to work with there to ensure a recovery eventually.>>
But… But none of the other girls were there any more. "Could… I mean, they are biologically alive right? Can we do something?" The chances of four team members and herself surviving long enough to even last this long was a miracle as it was.
A sigh. <<With no mind, literally in a few cases, well… Even if you fully helped them recover, they wouldn't remember anything. Personality death, in other words.>>
Fuck.
Well… Well, at least she made it. And Dr. Isley. "Start sneaking medication into them. Just because the people I know are gone doesn't mean that they have to hurt like that… And we can get them medical care and recovery treatments."
They wouldn't be HER team, but they would be able to have a full life with funding and support they would only dream of before her coming here.
It wasn't enough, but it was something.
In the dark, water suddenly rippled. "I h̕av͝e ͞your͡ ̴sc͏ent… Fre͏şḩ m̴̷͠e͜͏̛͞͝a̸̧͘͜t̸́!̛͞"
Oh. Is that so? "Good day, Mr. Jones. My name is Sarah Esdat. I'm your new primary physician."
A massive shadow in the dim tunnels began to fill the area. "Oh͜?̷ ͘A ̛brav̷e͠ ̢o͘ne͢ then?͠"
Her fingers flexed in grumbling rage. "Something like that. When was your last checkup?"
A distant mountain of muscle began to prowl into view. "A m͢ea̷ļ ͡w̧ith ̵hum̕ór? ͏Wha̸t a ̷w͠a̛st̀e...N͢ǫw,́ wh̕y͟ ́don͟'t ̴yo̕u̕ ̵s̀t͠a̷rt ru̧nn͏ing̕?̛"
She snorted. "Oh come on, you're not THAT hideous."
The creature blinked… And SNARLED! "I͟ ̨w͢i̷l͠l̶ ̵fea͜s͞t on ̕y̢our ́b̸o͝nȩs!͏"
Well good. Because Sarah had some stress to work through. "And I'm going to collect some samples!"
Mr. McStabberson was H̹̞̼̺̖̖u̟̝͖̠̝͙̙͙̱͖̱n͚͓̟̫̹͔̦͙̻g͔̮̬̙̤̠̲̯̫͚͍͙͇̺̬̩̼̲r̫̗̹̼̻̠̳̰͔̭̜̹̥͕̣͙̺y̲̗͙̙̯̲! "And heads up! This… This might sting."
However, just in case…
Sarah caught the glowing bone spike on F̖͍̳i̘͔̠̺̺r̗̦͕̱̳̦e̝̟̥͕̭, blue flames spiraling.
NOW it will sting.
Then there were roars and screams and darkness and claws and bones...
It was glorious!
~~~Broken Adventure~~~
Adam sighed, trying to examine his Jumper's former teammates again. A few fragments here and there, a few memories… Nothing much left in their remaining Soul fragments…
Still. At least when they recovered, Adam could help a little.
Dump a cleansed copy of Sarah's memories where each individual was involved, drop in loads of relevant educational information (And not just math and biology and chemistry, their minds were being rebuilt from scratch… So why not add more?), and start the tedious process of searching this country for third-party witnesses and associates for each of the four girls.
He also began to build personal data background reports for each broken woman in this private coma ward. So while there wouldn't be any memories with emotions or context built into it, they would still be able to remember passwords and locations and birthdays and family members…
Faces, locations, so on and so forth.
Oh, it would be clearly messed up… But when they TRIED to remember something, there would be data available. Just… Clearly messed up data.
But the human mind was flexible. With more information, it would be enough for their loved ones (Few as they were) and each other to recognize others. To have a sense of 'self'. Most people couldn't remember things very accurately anyway, so having some ingrained natural reflexes and a lot of factual data that feels instinctively true... It should help.
Sure it was a pain in the ass to calculate fake reflexes and instincts so that their future hand written signatures and stuff would match past documents, and Adam had to go through a lot of effort converting memories of third-party people and Sarah into a first person viewpoint in a visualized reconstruction of the remembered situation... But he had more complicated challenges in the past.
Over time, they would build on these fragments and expand upon them, filling their mental holes with the same dreams and fictional fragments most people do naturally in their life… New data would help them 'remember' lost information, etc.
If anything, they would have a BETTER memory for raw data then before the incident. And have a much easier time learning and adapting compared to before anything occurred... But it wasn't actually 'fixing' the issue.
It was ensuring these NEW people could more easily adapt to being 'born' as an adult with a crazy 'history' they shouldn't be able to recall.
So if this Jump has an Afterlife, these four girls are probably going to end up meeting their unexpected twin sisters... Or maybe the scraps of Soul left behind would allow them to incarnate as themselves? Dang it, he had no data to work with here!
Adam carefully built up some base information (math, science, history, etc), with large chunks stolen from external sources, even as the Warehouse began to infiltrate the local information sources.
Which was going to be important because this world was kind of messed up right now... Everything was stabilizing, but trying to get these two Jump documents to work together sort of mutated Gotham City and Arkham Island... He was pretty sure this location, this one city, was not supposed to cross borders into multiple American states.
That uh... That ALSO shouldn't happen again in the future. Hopefully.
Anyway, back on topic! Hacking the local information systems to better gather theoretical memories for these hurt women.
Data exfiltration was a bit tricky, as Adam's new method involved carefully tracing the hardware and focusing sensors at various hubs and junctions… In other words, not adding to the traffic being examined but using a scanned duplicate of the structure and messing with the copy.
At least this way, 'hacking the internet' wouldn't crash the stupid thing. He'd seen stories where an AI just downloaded the world's data, as if trying to download terabytes of data through dialup would go unnoticed.
Nah, much safer and easier to scan the network nodes, detect where the hard drives and server drives and backups were stored, and [[Scan]] the data directly from the source. It also helped when someone was trying to find data centers with information stored 'Off the grid', as it were.
His self satisfied smugness blinked as he realized an issue.
Just uh… A tiny small problem.
Shit. <<Sarah?>>
Her spike SMASHED the massive muscle man into the bricks! <What's up, Adam?>
He double checked the 'baseline' data he had already inserted into her friends. <<So I was uh… Giving some raw information for your team members to work with, before we healed them up and all that. Right?>>
A bloody splash and Croc's furious scream showed that her bone spike was VERY sharp. <Right, so they can read and stuff instead of just blankly breathing and… GRR!> "Stop trying to defend yourself! I need samples for SCIENCE!"
Adam grimaced. <<Well, I might have used the wrong data set when I began giving the other girls background data.>>
Sarah paused mid-stomp, her foot holding the huge man to the wall. <What do you mean?>
Sigh, just suck it up Adam and spill it. <<I dumped YOUR scientific information for them to work with, not the local 2016 Earth stuff. Thankfully the safety systems automatically removed anything related to magic and psionics and aliens and stuff…>>
She blinked. <But you basically gave them Rick and Morty Jump levels of scientific advancement?>
Adam slumped. <<Yeah.>>
Sarah looked at… Nothing. One foot forcing the squirming giant of a man to wheeze in frustration. <Jessie would have loved that. Fuck it, except for the out of context crap? Give them ALL the best.>
Sure. <<One super science research team coming right up! Oh, and we'll keep them unconscious until I can get more information from Poison Ivy and track down any friends or family these girls have.>>
Might as well give them a private hive mind too, just for those girls as well. Sarah wouldn't be able to hook into it without giving away the whole game, but it should let all four of their minds better recover... As well as giving them a support system which they will dearly need.
Sarah nodded, twisting her heel to force the flailing creature to turn towards a better
stabbing/restraining position. <If you think that's best for them?>
Adam hummed. <<With a bit of effort and some [[Scans]] I can at least ensure they will somewhat 'recall' stuff unique to themselves. Basically giving them a framework built by examining the places and people they touched in their lives. Hopefully… Well, if it is even possible to ever recover from a personality death, this is the best shot we'll get.>>
Wordless warmth and lingering sadness came to him. <Thanks, Adam. Thank for trying.>
He sent back comfort. <<Just because it's impossible doesn't mean we should give up, right?>>
They mentally supported each other.
Then the fucking crocodile monstrocity had to be annoying and make gurgling noises.
Sarah glared. "Sorry, I got slightly distracted. Now, be a good sample and stay S͉̟̘̼̘̣̹͎̣̖̱̰̥͙͈̤͜͞ͅͅt̡̧̩̖̩̺̫̬͕̗̪͜͜i̷̶̜͎̮̹̣̙̖̼͍͕͉̤̝̭̳̕͢l̸̛̩̦̠͍̩͘͠l̛̫̞̪̤͉̻̪͠!̶̡̛̥͔͉̱̭͉͓͇͟͡ͅ"
Adam grumbled too. Some people just didn't know how to read the mood!
Ah well, let's look up childhood teachers and friends and pets and stuff and start copying some brains. If Adam was going to try and recreate a mostly missing mind without powerful Soul magic or access to Death, he was going to try his best!
And when he eventually ran out of informational sources to work with, might as well dose them up with some 'Enhance Self' and try to conceptually empower the girls too. Why not?
Maybe conceptual healing could help a fragmented Soul to recover.
Only one way to find out!