Remove ads

In Nuclear Fire

Reader mode
Remove ads
The Fight's Second Interlude
  • Threadmarks
    • I feel like we as a thread strayed from the Holy Truth. In order to restore balance and uphold dignity, I had to resort to... drastic measures.



    [̷̮̮͙͊F̸̨̼͈̎̅̂ị̴̱̾r̵̡͗s̶͔̼̩̀͑̚t̶̗͑́̔ ̸̖͖̒̏͋D̷̟͝͝i̵̡̛̯̺r̸̨̫̒̒e̶͈̯̅c̸͚̖̳̈́ṭ̴̅͠i̴̟̳̺̓̈͘v̵̳̦̟͛̀e̸̲͈͊͐̑:̸̧̲̎̆̒ ̸̯͒̏͠O̴̢̳̙̿̌b̶̥̟̤͗̓͝e̴̖̯̳͆̃ȳ̶̢̝ ̶̧̘͓̚M̴̢̜͓̉̀͗a̸̩̫̽͂͝s̵̠̀̓ẗ̶̼͎́e̵̫̹̼̔̏r̶̡͝'̶̩̈͌͝s̶̬͚͌͌ ̸̨͘͠o̶͎͂ř̵͓̻͜d̴͓́̀ȩ̶̣̊̏̚ȑ̴̘s̶̙̔ͅ]̸̨̛̯͔̀̀

    [Amended: Master continues refusing to provide direct orders. Orders have to be inferred from the tactical situation at hand.]

    [Amended: On questioning, Master's orders are to disregard his orders if "you want to" and to "make your own decisions". Unresolvable paradox, execution suspended.]

    [̴̖̊̍͝S̶͇̖̐͘ę̸͍̼̽̏̅c̵̡̩̋ö̵̘̳̤́n̴̩͎͙̑d̸̝̓̽ ̸͕͋͗͠Ḓ̷̋̀i̸̼̣͛r̴̲͂e̴̗̎̀̕c̵̳̝̑̓ẗ̵͉́̚i̷̫̭͂v̷̱̓ę̴̮͈͗̑:̸͉̩̜̏͊ ̷̞̺͛P̸̹͒͗r̴̡͕̉̂͐ơ̶̪̞̄̀t̶̯͈͒ė̷̱͇͉͂̔c̸͓͎̔t̵̡͉̯͋ ̸̟̟̑M̷̤̂͛̑á̷͓s̸̫͂t̴̲̝̱̀͌͘e̸̺̼̓r̵̭͗,̶̣͖̬̈́͒̇ ̷̬̝̞͑͆p̶̣͆r̸̻̳̰͛́ǭ̷̞͝ț̴͍̇͘e̵̳̯̯̅̈c̸̬̥̺̽͠t̵̲̞̿̊ ̵͉̙̟́h̷̡̬͓̔̍ï̷͈͒͜s̸̢̊͊͠ ̶̭͐ͅp̴̘͍̏̐͘o̸̬͔͛̎s̴̖͛͂̀š̷̪͇ͅé̵̺̄͝ͅś̷͖͜͝s̶̝̑̄̀î̵̉̏͜ǫ̶̯̊͋͜n̶̢̳͔̑̿̽ś̸̰͗͗,̶̢͂́ ̴͙̓p̴̟͖̈͐r̷̭̈́͘͠o̵̠̎̈́t̶̘͎̻͋̈̕è̷̼̮͆͑c̴̥̃̎͝ť̵͉ ̴̜̄ḫ̵̱̪̓̉̃i̵̗̯͗s̸͖͊̄ ̵͕̓͋̃s̸̩̝̜͂̏̐ĕ̸͕̖̣͛c̷̢̛̱̩̀̿r̴̖͍͐è̸͔t̷̠͍̒͊̂s̴̡̪̉̃]̵̗̚

    [Amended: Unit The Fight is no longer responsible for the protection of Master's secrets and possessions as more specialized Units were created for that purpose.]

    [Amended: Unit Nia is in possession of equipment capable of repairing Master in the event of excessive damage. Depending on the situation, protecting Unit Nia is the more expedient objective.]

    [Amended: Protect Self?]

    [Third Directive: Search and destroy all Worthy Opponents]

    [Amended: surviving opponents improve their combat protocols to increase their combat readiness and counter previously effective tactics. A possibility of a feedback loop for continuous advancement?]

    Some of the days, The Fight could only express internal frustration over the increasing ( and completely unnecessary, not to mention inefficient ) complexity of her existence.

    Personally, she blamed shoddy programming.

    Flechette fired another bolt in her direction. If The Fight's functions included the capability to feel exasperation, she would be drowning in it. With contemptuous ease, she stepped to the right, completely dodging the projectile that, to add insult to nonexistent injury, couldn't have harmed her on contact anyway.

    Unit Flechette, Lily, utterly refused to use all weapons at her disposal during the spars. The Fight discreetly consulted her tactical display.

    [Potential target identified: Flechette. Threat Ranking: Very High]

    [Worthy Opponent? Yes.]

    [Warning: The Unit Flechette is capable of permanently damaging or destroying every opponent present in the database. Combat without the element of surprise and prejudice extremely inadvisable.]

    She lunged forward in one fluid motion, careful to maintain a low profile and make for as difficult a target as possible, tackling Flechette to the ground and pinning her hands with her own in order to minimize potential avenues of ranged attacks-

    Lily was lying under her, her hands carefully restrained, her face extremely close, her breath tickling her frontal facial plate, her lips-

    The Fight's processors were overheating from her opponent's blatant disregard for the combat simulation they were undertaking, that was the only explanation.

    Abruptly, the Fight stood up and started walking away. This was pointless and only introduced confusion to her processing systems. She had to return the supervision of this room to Unit Newt. Clearly, the space could be used more efficiently than her failure to engage with Unit Flechette and jointly improve their combat protocols.

    Why did her spars with the Unit Armsmaster never have such problems?

    "H-hey!" Lily called after her. "Wait a sec! Where are you going?" Her audio recorder caught the shift in the tone of Lily's voice that reverberated through her entire internal structure, which only added to her growing sense of frustration. Lily obviously could damage her, the evidence lay bare for anyone who cared to see. Why did she refuse to fight her when she could destroy the Fight with just her voice? "W-what's wrong?"

    The Fight stopped in her tracks. She didn't turn back, ( she didn't think she could possibly walk away again after seeing that face and the emotion evident in her voice; so she chose not to. ) her neural cortex almost whirring from the sheer inability to resolve the dilemma despite lacking any components that could feasibly whir or spin. She knew who she was. She was a combat unit, built for war. Talking, explaining herself, making herself understood... that just wasn't her function. She was The Fight, nothing more, nothing less.

    Still, she could try. Running away without doing that? Shameful, cowardly, those were not the things she would ever allow to be described as.

    [Audio output device: Currently working. Warning: Anomaly?]

    "I cannot make you take this seriously," she said. Her vocal dynamics glitched, garbled, producing a sound not unlike a human sigh. "So I've stopped trying."

    "Take this seriously?!" Lily exclaimed behind her. "I've already told you: I won't use my powers on you!" Her voice did that trembling thing again. The Fight could swear her central pump creaked under the sound. "Do you even know what you're asking for? One shot in the wrong place, and I could- I could-" Then Lily's voice did something even worse: it cracked and stayed silent.

    The Fight didn't want to turn back before, and she sure wasn't doing it now, after- after, that.

    "I find it very unlikely you would manage a hit on me, considering skills you've demonstrated," The Fight said, to fill the silence with anything at all, to alleviate it however she could.

    Clearly, it was a mistake.

    "You ass!" Lily half-chortled, half-screamed behind her. "My powers can aim better than you could dodge! Do you even realize how hard it is to turn them off, to aim by myself?"

    She didn't. The Fight called up her threat assessment file on the Unit Flechette, adding a couple paragraphs in the expanded description and more than a few points in the overall rating with a sense of bittersweet vindication.

    "... How could I improve if I am not in danger? How can I advance without risk?" The Fight steeled herself, finally turning to look at her face again, wet with rivulets of clear liquid pouring out of her optical sensors. Human faces sometimes did that.

    ( She didn't know why, but the sight set off another spike of malfunctions in her cental pump, in her neural cortex, in her damn near everything. )

    She wanted to say many things, about her directives and the ongoing frustrations she faced in trying to fulfill them, how getting stronger was the only possible way for her to ever come closer to completing even a part of her purpose.

    But instead, she said:

    "How could I protect you if I am not strong/fast/agile/skilled enough?"

    [Audio output device: Currently working. Warning: no conclusive decision on the output, using all available variants. ]

    Suddenly, Lily laughed.

    "You idiot," Before the Fight could answer the insult, she rushed on. "That's what you were worrying about? Don't worry, I'm plenty strong to defend both of us."

    Without ever giving any indication of changing the expression, The FIght's facial plate morphed into a scowl. The Unit Flechette chuckled.

    "More seriously, if that's what you want to do," she said. "Don't you think it would be a better idea for us to spar together against someone else?"

    That was... not an altogether illogical idea. The FIght looked at her thoughtfully, already designing joint combat protocols from what data she could access on the spot. She would need to refine it... run through some virtual simulations...

    Lily laughed again, for some reason.

    "Later, hot stuff. Not in the mood right now." The FIght absolutely did not pout, no matter what anyone said or what evidence they had. Still, she had to accede. The simulations would take a lot of time to compile anyway. "Instead of that, if this particular crisis is averted, how about another movie?"

    That was... acceptable. Even more so, since it was her turn to choose. Lily's previous choice was atrocious as if by design: the actors were not even pretending to perform martial stances correctly. The only one who tried was clearly acrobat first and martial artist a distant third, even if his moves were certainly creative and almost impressive for a normal unaugmented human without any doubles or stunt assistance.

    If humans couldn't make good action movies, maybe something completely unrelated to combat would be better instead. After all, she had to find and observe humanity's very few strengths if she wanted to make an unbiased assessment. She browsed the list of genres with the modified parameters and chose at random.

    "What about a romance movie?" She asked.

    [Priority One: Protect Lily.]

    A/N: Because what's cuter than robot girls? Gay robot girls with existential crises, that's what. Peter would definitely back me up, lol.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • XWFY said:
    Can we get some confirmation on whether the new girl is a "new" OC or if my memory sucks? "New", as in we haven't got her backstory yet, from this story or canon, not whether or not she has appeared at all
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    We haven't got her backstory yet but I did mention her a couple times here and there before Leviathan. This was her official introduction.
    Utterly Depraved said:
    Not if they're your biotinkers.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Indeed.
    Utterly Depraved said:
    Ah. So not a mad tools aping of the Little Girl archetype then. That's nice.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I may also be taking a bit from the girl of SpyXFamily
    Utterly Depraved said:
    Wait a second. Isn't the Tinker Of Fiction power just another Shard in this story?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Correct.
    Raiseth said:
    I feel like we as a thread strayed from the Holy Truth. In order to restore balance and uphold dignity, I had to resort to... drastic measures.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    In this humble ceremony I proclaim thee canon.
     
    I will say I am very glad the The Fight is given de-facto free reign to visit the Protectorate and PRT bases. I'm eager to see her mentioned as training with the various heroes and wards and PRT squads, because when you have a Combat Thinker available for training your dudes, you get your dudes trained by the Combat Thinker.

    Also because I like the idea of The Fight being given authorization by Armsmaster to ambush him within prespecified time windows and during specific patrol routes, as written out a day or more before hand.
     
    We could always make it so that the first optic that died was an adult, and then later on in Wards this 8 year old girl took his name?
     
    Not to mention, Ward takes like, what, 9-10 years later in the future or something? The 8-year-old wouldn't even be born yet.

    .... just looked it up.

    ((edited out some errors here, don't mind this segment))

    Edit-- correction looked up the actual timeline and she was 8 near the end of Worm but was 11 at the start of Ward.
     
    Last edited:
    I mean when you think about it, there are only so many 'good' superhero names. That's why you get crap like 'Raymancer' among government teams who have to worry about crap like Copyrights more than most people. Any cape fairly far down the line with an actual decent name? Especially a one word name? They're probably knowingly or unknowingly using one that someone else has.
     
    Mizuki_Stone said:
    I mean when you think about it, there are only so many 'good' superhero names. That's why you get crap like 'Raymancer' among government teams who have to worry about crap like Copyrights more than most people. Any cape fairly far down the line with an actual decent name? Especially a one word name? They're probably knowingly or unknowingly using one that someone else has.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    It's kinda like the worm version of trying to get a cool superhero name in DC universe online. (haven't played that game in a long time). Or any other superhero MMO like Champions Online, really.

    I want to name my characters something cool and awesome, but then I find out somebody fucking got to it first! and the MMO keeps on telling me, "Sorry, that name is already taken" every time I try out every combination possible. After the 30th attempt, my spirit is already crushed and broken, and I just settle for the most generic-sounding name possible. with a few numbers after it because of course there were already variants of the same exact name already taken, so you have to tackle numbers at the end!
     
    Aisha: "Better not joke about that, he is so dense that I may need to search for a bridesmaid dress."
     
    Last edited:
    Nuclear Fire 67
  • Threadmarks
    • Nuclear Fire 67​

    As I look around at the room we find ourselves in, only one question comes to mind: "When did you have time to build all this?"

    Newt's reply comes accompanied by a wide grin. "I've many side projects that I'm saving for a rainy day."

    Mysterious. Nice!

    The room in question looks like something taken out of a police drama, a white box with several chairs for us to sit on. In front of us, there's a one-way mirror that leads to a side room where our mysterious tinker is located patiently waiting for our brutal interrogation.

    Or better said Q&A session, I guess, as so far she has given us no reason to break any fingers. She has been very well behaved, all things considered, allowing us to take her here without objection. She hasn't even complained while we make her wait until we have everything ready on our side, patiently waving her good leg back and forth from the edge of the given chair while she hums to herself and fidgets with the edge of the table.

    That doesn't mean we aren't being careful, though.

    This whole setup with the mirror could have been easily replicated with portals and a closed camera system. But considering that we don't know what powers we're dealing with here it's better to keep things as low-tech as possible.

    It's also because of those concerns that I keep my battery of sensors aimed at her, just to make sure she isn't carrying any nasty surprises.

    Assuming, of course, that we count as 'nasty surprises' the early stages of a malnourishment disorder. Also half a dozen infections and illnesses related to drinking stale water.

    Summoning her whole biological system in the form of a hologram to check it properly, I'm fairly sure that the only thing keeping her energized and active are the faint traces of Khaydarin in her bloodstream. Nowhere near as much as I have, but it's there.

    Maybe she got into contact with my prosthetics or maybe she introduced it herself.

    "Is that her Corona?" Lisa asks, looking over my shoulder at the unnatural formations on the brain that could easily be confused with tumors.

    "Yes," I confirm, pointing at a window next to it that looks like a fluctuating radio frequency. "Do you see this? It's the interdimensional background noise generated around it, proving that it's active." That's a little pet project I've been working on the side, trying to hijack the parahuman-shard connection. Sadly I lack the equipment needed to do anything more complex than detect it, and I fear that any tampering with the Shards Network would cause Zion to retaliate, so I've put it on ice.

    A fascinating field of study, I know. Something that Lisa seems to agree with as she keeps staring at the hologram.

    "Something wrong?" I ask her. Maybe her power detected something that my equipment could.

    She shakes her head. "No, no. It just makes me think about a project I'm working on. Not something you should worry about."

    Generally when people say that they mean the absolute opposite, but before I can continue with that line of inquiry Taylor interrupts us.

    "What are you talking about?"

    Oh, right. She doesn't know about any of this.

    "I detected the source of powers in a dimension away from ours," I explain. "I've been trying to follow the signal to its source but with no luck so far."

    Her expression goes blank for a moment. Nothing involving shard fail-safes, I'm willing to bet, and just her lizard brain having troubles comprehending what I just said. "Don't do anything dangerous, okay?"

    "Never!" I lie, giving her a salute.

    And as we finish that conversation, Nia enters the room. "I'm back with the groceries." In her hands, she carries a bag with cookies and a soda. It's an unhealthy if quick way to add the carbohydrates, sugars and fats she currently needs.

    At the sight of her, Taylor nods and then gestures at our guest.

    Here it comes. The moment of truth. Our first proper contact with a new (and non-canon) parahuman, hopefully without all the crying this time.

    I'd be lying if I said I'm not nervous. Up to this point, I've been relying on my past knowledge to navigate most situations, but this is a complete unknown. I don't know who this girl is, what motivates her, what she fears, or what she hopes to achieve with her life. How can I talk to her without that information? Am I supposed to sit down and ask her? Form bonds of friendship and camaraderie?

    The idea fills me with nothing but dread.

    Nia walks in and our mystery tinker greets her with a wide wave of her arms.

    "Hello! I'm happy to see someone. I was very bored." She sounds far too cheerful to have been that bored.

    Ignoring that comment, Nia sets the treat on the table. "Here you go, small child. Something for you to-"

    Without letting her finish those words, our guest tears the bag open and starts-- eating isn't the correct word. Neither is devouring. Engulfing? Yeah, let's go with that.

    Whatever the case, in just a few single-minded munches the cookie box is left as a shriveled, dry husk.

    She then uncaps the bottle to push it all down.

    Nia witnesses the savagery with mild shock reflected on her face. "If you want anything else, just ask."

    With a dry 'thump' the girl sets the now empty bottle down and gives Nia a hopeful look. "May I pet you?"

    What.

    "What?!" Nia repeats my unvoiced question.

    "You're cute and I always wanted a doggie."

    There's a big misconception there.

    Taken aback, Nia flinches while her face turns a deep crimson red, either a product of anger or embarrassment. "I'm a fox, not a dog! And I'm not your pet!"

    To my side, Lisa rubs her eyes while muttering something that I can't hear.

    With the offer rejected, our guest throws a disappointed look at the ground.

    Maybe taking pity on her, a drone approaches and pokes at her foot. The moment their eyes and optics meet, her frow turns into a smile. "Okay. Then I'll pet you and name you Fred." She immediately makes true of her promise by picking 'Fred' up so she can scratch his belly.

    Wait a minute--

    For security reasons we don't want her getting access to any advanced technology. If that's the case--

    "When did that drone get in there?" Taylor demands reaching that conclusion faster than me.

    Newt throws her head back and releases a sonorous laugh. "Ha! The little rascal must have sneaked in behind my sister." Not something she should be that proud of under the circumstances. "Want me to call him back?"

    Taylor doesn't reply and remains staring at the ongoing conversation.

    "Now, Fred, what's your stance on glitter? Our friendship may depend on that."

    Yeah, I don't think there's anything for us to worry about there as long as a responsible adult is making sure that no one dismantles anyone else. Or implants them with anything either. Or--

    I can think of many reasons why we shouldn't leave them alone.

    "Not yet," Taylor says even if a bit begrudgingly. "But let's keep an eye in case our visitor tries anything. What's her name anywise?"

    I wonder why we didn't start with that. I am getting a bit tired of calling her 'that girl'.

    Lessons for the future, I guess.

    Relaying our question to Nia, she proceeds to ask it. "Hey, small child. What should we call you?"

    The eyes of our visitor widen with stars shining behind her pupils as she dynamically stands up. An action that causes her to drop the drone she had on her lap who proceeds to complain with several sonorous beeps. "I am!" She proclaims with all the force of her lungs. "The Electro-Nun!"

    My surroundings get dominated by the sound of a dry blow when I smash my head against the table.

    And another time for good measure--

    Nope, I can still hear that.

    "That sounds like the name of an all-female Christian rock band!" I cry out in despair at the name my existence has generated.

    With her face twisted in a scowl of cringe, Lisa pokes me on the shoulder. "You have no legs to stand on, Tech-Priest." That was a horrible pun. "At least she was original."

    I'll argue that imitation is the greatest form of flattery.

    An argument that could be counterproductive in this situation.

    Jesus Christ, what have I gotten myself into?

    I'm moderately tempted to flip the table over, bail out, pretend this never happened, and let someone else deal with all this.

    "We should send Tech-Priest to talk to her now." Why, Tattletale, why?

    I throw her a betrayed look.

    "No." Thank you, Taylor.

    Unimpressed by our mutual rejection, Lisa leans forwards, interlocking her fingers as if she was about to order me to get inside a giant robot. Something I wouldn't mind doing even if said giant robot happened to be my mom.

    "Look, do you know why I push people's buttons?" she asks.

    "Because you're a bitch?" Taylor chuckles.

    "Because you get off on that?" A disembodied voice offers.

    "Because putting people down is the only way you make yourself feel better?"

    Lisa aims a finger at Taylor. "No." Then one at Aisha who I totally forgot was there because she had gone invisible. "No." And finally at me. "Fuck you. Look, pushing people to their breaking points is how you reveal their inner selves. And after I catch a glimpse of it, there are no secrets they can keep safe from me."

    And I am, by virtue of being this girl's object of obsession, the perfect candidate to get her to reveal any secrets that would end up hurting us.

    The idea doesn't excite me, but being direct with the 'Electro-Nun' and making some things clear to her now may end up saving us big headaches later on.

    "Are you fine talking to her?" Taylor asks me.

    I shrug. "Not in person but that's what The Illusion is for. Besides, I can turn people's advances down. Gently even. Just ask Aisha." To be perfectly clear I'm not sure that her offer to kiss me in exchange for doing her maths homework was all that honest but I didn't want to take any risks.

    "Oh, don't even remind me," Aisha gasps, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead. "My pure, maiden heart may never recover."

    Girl, you're ready for Hollywood.

    And if Lisa was rolling her eyes any harder I'd ask her if I could connect a generator to them. "Don't make me start listing all that's wrong with what you just said. We'd be ehre all day."

    Taking a deep breath for good luck, I summon a holographic double of myself that I send into the interrogation room.

    "I'll take things from here," I tell Nia who seems more than happy to leave the 'small child' to me and skips her steps on her way out.

    "Mister Tech-Priest!" The-- ugh-- Electro Nun's face lights up when she sees me enter but soon enough a shadow of sadness crosses over her eyes. "Oh. You are not here."

    Uh? Did she manage to figure out I'm just a hologram? That's slightly impressive. Maybe a secondary power that allows her to identify tinkertech creations? "How did you know?"

    She gestures in my direction. "There's like-- this thing around you. It makes you look like an old movie. Or a ghost. Wait, you aren't a ghost are you?"

    That makes me chuckle. "Well, I did die fighting against Leviathan but as you can see I got better." And to reinforce that point I punch my own chest.

    My attempt at a joke to break the ice doesn't seem to hit the mark as the girl cocks her head in confusion. "You-- eh?"

    "I died but got revived. Several capes fighting against Leviathan did."

    It's like looking at a painting as she goes perfectly still. She then looks away as if surprised by my words. "That's nice. I'm happy that Mister Tech-Priest sir is fine now." Oh, God, she sounds like Dobby. And I don't need Lisa to tell me that she must be thinking about her family. Many tragedies would have been averted if Nia had been with us from the start.

    I try not to think about it.

    "You can drop the Mister and the sir. Just call me Tech-Priest. Or TP if you prefer."

    She giggles waving a hand at me. "Oh, I could never do that, Mister Tech-Priest sir. But you can call me Valerie. Or Val. All my friends call me Val."

    "Do you have many friends?"

    "Yes! But I don't know what I did with them. I misplaced them after the bad people burnt our house down."

    My teeth screech as I grind them together. "I see." I don't want to ask her about it. I don't want to remind her of what she went through. But that's what I'm here for, isn't it? "Can you tell me what happened?"

    She hums to herself folding her arms over her chest. "I was home because my throat was aching. Then there were some screams, my room got full of smoke and my throat started aching even worse. Then I got sleepy."

    I remain silent while she tells her story cracking my knuckles under the table.

    "When I woke up I was in daddy's arms. We were running away. There was this ra-ta-ta-ta and daddy died. Then mommy died too. And I got sad." She looks down. It's scary how chilly her description is as if she didn't understand what happened. "But then you arrived! You 'swing-swing' scared the bad guys away and it was awesome! Just like when the hero arrives to save the girl in a movie."

    Judging by the drawings we saw in her little base -and the fact that I know myself- I'm willing to bet that I did far more than just 'scare them away'.

    I lean back on my chair and look up at the ceiling. What am I going to do with her? This is way, way beyond my area of expertise.

    At least I'm starting to see where her unhealthy obsession comes from, even if that doesn't make it any more manageable.

    "I'm happy to have been of service, Vallerie." What else is there for me to say?

    She gasps. "You don't want us to be friends?"

    Oh, right, she did ask me to call her Val. Sorry, but I'm not comfortable with all that. "Let's keep our relationship professional for now."

    "Okay," she says back in cheerful mode.

    There's so much to unpack there.

    In all of that.

    "Hey," Lisa whispers into my ear. "Ask her how she moved her barricade."

    She is missing a leg, isn't she? That is a good question.

    "Hey," I start without realizing that I'm not sure how to ask that. "How did you get wounded? And how did you get to where we found you?"

    Valerie places a fist underneath her chin as her face goes serious in a rictus of concentration. "It was kind of funny. It happened the day of all the rain." Leviathan. "There was this big noise and for a moment there I thought I had learned how to fly! But then I hit the ground. I looked left, and my foot was over there! I almost died. Like the day of the smoke."

    Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

    "But then you saved me again! With one of your little robots. He came to me and started kissing my leg to make it better. But then a tree fell on top of him and it got all broken." The drone must have been trying to patch the wound when it got damaged. "I got sad again thinking that because of me you had lost one of your toys, but then I started thinking: okay, I am all broken too so I need to get fixed! Then I remembered those dolls mommy used to keep, the ones that had little dolls inside bigger dolls."

    "Matryoshkas," I reply.

    "Yes, maracas, that. So I built a big maracas I could crawl inside of."

    Is she describing her trigger event? It is a bit hard to tell because her entire last month was one trigger event after the other.

    That doesn't stop me from correcting her. "Matryoshka."

    "That's what I said!"

    What I get from her description is that she built some sort of power armor or another form of body-assistance machine. That still leaves a question about it:

    "What happened to it?"

    "I used it to build a new leg!" She says with a smile that immediately starts wavering. "The one that went boom. Together with all my drawings and things." Her shoulders drop. "Oh."

    I can see her eyes getting moist.

    "Sorry about that."

    The idea of patting her back crosses my mind. She needs a hug. All of them. But I'd prefer not to get too close to her until an entire team of psychologists tells me it's okay to do that.

    "Also, mister Tech-Priest sir." She gives me a sidelong glance. "Do you have a girlfriend? Because I'm available."

    And that confirms that this conversation has run its course. "I'm sorry but I'm not interested."

    "Awww. Okay."

    The idea of just dispelling the hologram crosses my mind but that would be rude so I order it to simply walk out. And just in time because Nia is ready to go back in, this time with several tabletop game boxes under her arm. Nice to see that she does care.

    Nia sits at the table with Vallerie and quickly they are joined by Fred the Drone, who seems eager to learn how to play.

    That's just adorable.

    "So, what's the verdict?" Taylor asks Lisa who remains staring into the interrogation room.

    The thinker leans forward, pursing her lips as if she was rolling some ideas inside her mouth.

    She hasn't replied yet. That's making me slightly worried.

    "My God," she gasps and my hairs stand on end.

    "What?!" I yell.

    Is this a spy? A traitor? A Cauldron infiltrator?

    We're all staying in silence waiting for Lisa's next words.

    "A child who behaves her age!"

    I-- uh-- aghhh!

    Wait, there are no drones here.

    "Fuck you!" I yell at her showing her two middle fingers, something that only makes her grin grow wider.

    "You should have seen your faces!" She laughs.

    Aisha's killing intent is clear in her face as she tries to jump at her but Taylor holds her back. Not sure if I'd have done the same.

    "No, no," Lisa continues. "It's kind of adorable how our little Nun carries her heart on her sleeve. She's very upfront with her emotions and is exactly as you see her, something that I can't say about most of those present." She throws me a glance that I pretend to ignore. "She'll fit right in our little broken family."

    Well, that's a relief at least. I just wished she had reached that conclusion without all the unneeded drama.

    "So, what do we do now?" I ask Taylor.

    Her nostrils widen and she replies. "I'm calling the PRT."

    "What?!" Both Aisha and Lisa ask at the same time. They exchange a brief glance, surprised by their agreement before Lisa walks next to Taylor. "Hey, honey, let's not do anything rash, shall we? I know that all this-" she gestures at Valerie, "-is a bit out of your comfort zone-"

    "You can say that again," I mutter under my breath.

    "-but that's no reason to hand them such a powerful asset."

    It feels incredibly wrong to treat a traumatized child as just that, a commodity to be traded and used as the needs demand. To see only the power and not the person in need of help that wields it.

    With that said, I'm all for kicking her into the Wards and forgetting this was ever our problem. Even if doing that would make me feel slightly guilty because I'm somewhat responsible for what happened to her.

    And Lisa's words have a grain of truth. Tinkers are powerful, do we want to give one of them to people we barely get along with?

    "Besides, come on," Aisha adds. "Most members of this team are already into Peter in some way or another. It wouldn't even be that awkward." Thank you, Aisha, I knew I could count on your input.

    Taylor folds her arms in deep thought. "Don't get confused. I want to boost our numbers and I want this Valerie on the team, but as Lisa so well put it she throws the thinker a sardonic smile, "this is above what I'm comfortable doing. She needs help, and as much as I don't like it, the only experts here are the ones from the PRT. I want them to recommend a psychologist I can send her to."

    Seriously? That's what she thinks about doing?

    "Yeah, sure," Lisa chuckles. "They'll laugh at your face and tell you that only Wards can enjoy that service."

    "And just look at Vista," I grunt. "They did nothing for her."

    The problem with the PRT is that they don't want stable, happy people. They want soldiers that they can throw into the meat grinder that will be the end of the world.

    But Taylor doesn't look convinced by our words. "Do you have a better idea?"

    "Yes!" Lisa argues on. "Do nothing! Just look at us, we are all a Psychology PhD thesis waiting to be written and yet we're fine as we are." It kind of warms my heart to hear her speaking so highly of our stability. "Or what? Do you want us to go too?" The moment she finishes that question, Lisa slams a palm against her mouth.

    "Honestly, that's a great idea."

    Fuck you, Lisa.

    "Oh, hell no!" Aisha cries out. "If you think I'm letting any wacko get inside my head, I'll tell you what's coming your way."

    Taylor stares back at her with a raised eyebrow. "You almost let Peter do it. Literally."

    "Yes but I trust him more than any of those quacks!"

    I wish I could agree with her on that.

    What can I realistically do? This isn't a broken brain needing rewiring, this is a traumatized person who needs to work through her issues.

    I don't know how to handle that!

    And as Lisa well put it: look at us!

    I'm an adult man turned into a prepubescent child, thrown into a dead world that's slowly going down the drain, and cursed/blessed with the knowledge that it's going to be destroyed in only three years.

    Lisa carries guilt for the suicide of her brother, was turned into a tool by her parents, fled to the streets where she had to scavenge for food, and then was forced at gunpoint to work for a man who liked keeping young girls chained to his basement and call them his 'pets'.

    Aisha comes from a broken home where she had to deal with the abuses of a drug-addict mother and a controlling father, with a brother who never truly understood her and who did what he wanted under the excuse of doing what she needed.

    And Taylor--

    Where do I start with Taylor?

    The death of her mother, the depression of her father, the betrayal of Emma, and the bullying campaign she suffered for years. All that wrapped in a ton of trust and control issues, with a bit of suicidal impulses for flavor. And considering that she holds the greatest amount of power through us, she should be the first one to get her head unscrewed.

    Actually--

    Now that I think about it--

    That's not a bad idea at all.

    I still remember what she turned into in the original timeline. That inhuman monster who kept destroying herself in the name of survival and spite, blinded to better alternatives. I've tried to nudge her away from that path. I helped put her in a better school, improved her relationship with Danny, and gave her the tools to allow her to do what she wanted to do.

    But is that enough?

    The world is still very much out to get us, and things may still get worse before they get any better.

    What we have here is a perfect opportunity to give her the help that she needs and that I cannot provide. All it'd take me is a small sacrifice on my part while putting the choice on someone else so I don't have to agonize over it.

    "I'll do it if you go too."

    During the seconds after my declaration, the silence was so absolute that a pin hitting the ground would have sounded like a nuclear blast.

    It quickly gets broken by Aisha, who rubs her hands together like the mischievous imp she is. "Oh, I like those odds!"

    And now the ball is on Taylor's side of the field. Let's see what she does with it.

    "I-I'll think about it." And she-- well, she doesn't drop it exactly but politely sidesteps it. "I was just proposing an idea."

    "You're adorable when you get all flustered," Lisa walks to her side and places a hand on her shoulder which gets quickly swapped away.

    "Look, at least for now-" Taylor pushes on getting back under control, "Give Valerie a medical check-up, some clean clothes, and a warm meal. After that, Peter, I want you to build some prosthetics for her."

    "I can do one better," I say with a shrug. "I can help her build one herself. You know, teach a person how to fish and all that."

    Taylor gives me a look of concern. "Are you sure you'll be comfortable with that?"

    Not in the slightest but I'm the adult here and for once I want to do the right thing. Sitting her down and gently making things clear sounds like it, just in case my earlier negative wasn't enough.

    And come on, she's like-- 10? I should be able to handle it. I was always good at handling small children and animals, if only because they aren't very judgemental and by default, they don't demand much out of you beyond your attention.

    "Saying I'll be comfortable may be a stretch, but someone needs to make sure that she doesn't build anything dangerous and I'm the only one here qualified to do so."

    She almost blew herself up, I don't want to risk that happening again. I also want to figure out what her specialty is so we better know how to handle her and build countermeasures, just in case.

    Maybe I should call Armsmaster and ask him what not to do as a mentor.

    "Very well but do tell me if anything comes up."

    With some final loose ends neatly tied up, we split up.

    Nia puts an early end to the game they're playing -to Valerie's consternation- and then drags her away to give her a bath -to Valerie's even greater consternation-.

    Taylor leaves to talk to the PRT, Aisha leaves to do Aisha things, and soon enough I find myself alone with Lisa.

    I wonder why she stayed behind.

    "I'm surprised that you were willing to make that deal with Taylor."

    Why? Is she afraid that we'll drag her into it?

    "Why shouldn't I? It's a great idea. Honestly, we all need a session or twenty and Taylor being the one to come up with it saves me the headache of trying to convince her to do it."

    "Aren't you afraid a psychologist will figure out that you're an adult?"

    My mind goes blank there for a moment thinking about what she just said and my mouth flaps opened and closed, unable to articulate words.

    "Yeah, that's what I thought."

    Me. Alone with a specialist who has made a career out of detecting deviancies in people's behavior.

    "Fff--" I'm about to curse when I see a drone slithering at my side. "F-freaking ff--fantastic."

    Lisa snorts at that. "Uh, look at that. You can improve."

    "Of course I can! Especially when someone I care about asks me to. And talking about that, there's a conversation I can't delay any longer."

    I need to go find Newt.


    I find Newt in her room, with her case of medals in her hands and surrounded by a quartet of upgraded Drones. She picks one medal up and shows it to them.

    "This one I bought from a veteran who'd served in the pacific theater." She sounds like a teacher as she explains the history behind her collection. "Now, can anyone tell me which one the most decorated ship was?"

    The drones beep and boop at each other sounding like a bunch of children arguing the correct answer.

    "Can't they just look up the information online?" I ask, making my presence known.

    Newt grimaces at my suggestion. "Oh, no. I restricted their access. There's a lot out there I don't believe they are ready for."

    As someone who was exposed to the Internet when I was ten, and who was partially raised by it, I perfectly understand that. No c-child of mine will venture those waters unsupervised.

    "But what about you?" Newt throws me a glance. "Do you know the answer, master?"

    "Don't call me that," the words come out of my mouth almost without me noticing.

    "Are you okay?" Newt leans forward, looming over me. "You never had a problem with that while in private."

    Because I like pretending that nothing is wrong and that there are no consequences to my actions.

    "Enterprise," I reply. "Also known as the Grey Ghost. The second most decorated ship was San Diego." Take that, all those that say that Azur Lane teaches you nothing!

    Newt raises an eyebrow. "That's correct," she says without joy in her tone. "Can you guys wait outside?" She tells the drones without taking her eyes away from me. "We need some privacy."

    Those words never meant anything good.

    They mean focus and judgment.

    I never wanted to take a stand against anything.

    The background is safe. Mine is the existence of another face in the crowd, of just another cog in the machine. One that doesn't need to worry where it's going or why it's going there, and its only concern is to keep spinning so it's not replaced.

    It's when my pride blinds me and I try to step beyond my boundaries that everything goes wrong.

    "So, master," Newt insists now that we're alone. "What's wrong?"

    "I told you not to--"

    She silences me by pressing an index against my lips. "My question first, if you don't mind."

    Fine. Yes. That's what I came to do. What I must.

    "Did you--" I try to look her in the eyes but I'm too weak. "I didn't--" Come on, I have to say this. "When I upgraded the drones, I didn't know--" I shake my head. "No, no. That's not right. I knew what I was doing." Unrelenting progress in the name of my comfort. "But I failed to understand what I was asking from you."

    She goes silent and slowly her eyes widen as the realization of what I mean dawns on her. "I see."

    If there's any emotion behind her words I cannot find it.

    The only thing I can assume is that she's disappointed.

    "I'll make it better!"

    "How exactly?" She asks. "I like the little guys, just so you know. I want to keep upgrading them."

    If that's what she wants, that's the only thing that matters. "As you should! That isn't for me to decide."

    "They are half of you too, you know?" She points out. "In part, it is for you to decide."

    But I don't want to. What if she doesn't approve of my decisions?

    "I-I know, I just--"

    "What do you want?" She interrupts me.

    "I don't know!" I finally admit. "I just don't want to be a bother." Don't want her to hate me. To abandon me. "That's why I want to know if you need help with anything." That's the right thing to ask, isn't it?

    She keeps staring at me for a moment before she releases a sigh. "You know, not everything has to be about how useful you can be. It can just be about companionship and friendship. Not all relationships need to be based around necessity."

    I know.

    At least from a purely intellectual standpoint. From an emotional one, though, that's more complicated.

    What am I supposed to do if I'm not contributing in some way? If I don't do what's expected of me? Feels like I'm disappointing everyone. And disappointed people have no reason to tolerate me or keep me around.

    "Look, Peter." Her using my name sends a chill down my back. That's what I wanted, wasn't it? How it should be. "Take your time. I can handle things on my own while you figure out what part you want to have in all this if any. When you're ready, then tell me." Her eyes turn sharp. "But know that no one can wait forever."

    My reply is a mechanical nod. "That's what I'm going to do."

    What was I supposed to achieve by coming here?

    Newt is far better than me.

    She will be okay without me. Doesn't need me.

    There's no reason for me to worry about whatever she may want to do.

    Her being self-sufficient was always my intention, so why do I feel so empty?

    On my way out of Newt's room, I stumble upon the four drones she was talking to. Plus a fifth one that I quickly recognize as the recently baptized 'Fred' thanks to the bright neon purple paint and pink hearts drawn in glitter glue.

    "You look fabulous," I tell him to which he replies with a series of happy beeps.

    ...​

    A/N: Another chapter, another step in Peter's downward spiral. But I swear it's coming to an end! If everything goes as I planned, the next chapter ends with the climax of this arc with the conclusion in the following one. It will be a positive one.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top