True, but more likely he just made himself into a regenerator with upgrade options - if the nanocytes integrate in time, of course.
Or, the author is a dick, and he's just dead.
Stealing Fire (Worm SI)
- Thread starter Jack Stargazer
- Start date
True, but more likely he just made himself into a regenerator with upgrade options - if the nanocytes integrate in time, of course.
Or, the author is a dick, and he's just dead.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Upload seems unlikely; it would make the nanocyte replacement of his marrow pointless. I don't know what a "blacklight" is; I get the impression there's a video game or something as inspiration for the theme of his tinkering specialty. Which makes him distinct from Bonesaw's biotinkering.
Vox De Harlequin
Consequences are for other people
- Location
- Hyalean Theoric World
If you don't know what Blacklight is, you're missing out.
Go play the first, AND ONLY, [Prototype] game, and in the meantime go to this link.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Ah, a zombie shooter virus!
- Location
- America
He just gave himself transhuman in a bottle, would that kill wolverine or a nanosuiters. He should be nanosuit level after some upgrades. Maybe he can make second by programming it to consider jack wellbeing it own which should prevent anything but it going yandere.
By any chance can he mess with his brain to get new powers like maybe sting. He can really use sting and superpower/symboite biology is biology.
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With the "mind transfer" he was talking about, he probably made a cache or something. Hopefully he didn't upload himself to the internet.
Anyway. Since there is no google. The MC is going to get rich with the idea
- Location
- Earth Prime
I'm amused when fics run with something about Bet being alien to our experience by not having tech quite where we expect it, such as lacking Google. In one I'm working on, I took note of the fact that smartphones are never once mentioned in canon to assume that, despite tinkertech, they never got beyond flip phones. Nobody quite moved from Star Trek TOS communicators to Star Treck TNG PADDs.
Assembler
Rocking the life
Smartphones do exist in Worm, they're just not as common.I'm amused when fics run with something about Bet being alien to our experience by not having tech quite where we expect it, such as lacking Google. In one I'm working on, I took note of the fact that smartphones are never once mentioned in canon to assume that, despite tinkertech, they never got beyond flip phones. Nobody quite moved from Star Trek TOS communicators to Star Treck TNG PADDs.
Interlude 10 said:
- Location
- Earth Prime
Sounds like, if it's "special issue from the wards," they might be Tinker-tech. Though if Greg Veder recognized it as a "smart phone," yeah, that's a known thing. Then again...could be something he only knows about as a nerd who knows weird stuff. Eh, I'll write it up to that for my purposes, anyway. (I'm making excuses for something in a fanfic I'm writing.
)
Assembler
Rocking the life
This is from Regent's interlude, not Greg's.Sounds like, if it's "special issue from the wards," they might be Tinker-tech. Though if Greg Veder recognized it as a "smart phone," yeah, that's a known thing. Then again...could be something he only knows about as a nerd who knows weird stuff. Eh, I'll write it up to that for my purposes, anyway. (I'm making excuses for something in a fanfic I'm writing.
- Location
- Earth Prime
Ah, sorry. ...not sure why I assumed it must be Greg's. It would make sense it's when Regent is being an awesomely horrifying monster.
- Location
- France
Everyone thought Tattletale was going to be the Waifu? Nope, Dragon. Twist.
Anyway. Since there is no google. The MC is going to get rich with the idea
It isn't the idea that made Google so successful, it's the algorithm.
Now considering Jack's specialty...Yeah, he's going to be rich.
- Location
- Canada
Yeah, I know I said "infrequent" in the OP but this is a bit ridiculous.
So, I am actively working on this again. I will have a new chapter out before the end of the month. Possibly before the end of the week.
I'm not going to bother with an apology for the lateness, as it mostly sums up to "Life happens", but I will say that I've been thinking about the story a lot recently, and I feel like I need to keep writing if only to get it out of my system.
So, I'm hoping to get back to a slightly more regular posting schedule here. I'd advise re-reading, as its been so long even I forgot some stuff that happened.
So, I am actively working on this again. I will have a new chapter out before the end of the month. Possibly before the end of the week.
I'm not going to bother with an apology for the lateness, as it mostly sums up to "Life happens", but I will say that I've been thinking about the story a lot recently, and I feel like I need to keep writing if only to get it out of my system.
So, I'm hoping to get back to a slightly more regular posting schedule here. I'd advise re-reading, as its been so long even I forgot some stuff that happened.
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- Location
- Netherlands
I admit, I was thoroughly amused by the apparent fact that this SI ended when their '92% chance of success' project failed at the outset, heh. Good to see it back, though.
Prince Charon
Just zis guy, you know?
I'm not sure it actually failed, just had consequences that the SI either didn't forsee, or didn't mention.
- Location
- Pennsylvania
well, he isnt dead. TT isnt dead, and he got his initial upgrades and some tinkertech built. Also they got away with a good chance of not leaving any survivers behind.
It was a terrible plan and only luck and TT's combat thinker aspect really saved them.
Entertaining at least. XD
It was a terrible plan and only luck and TT's combat thinker aspect really saved them.
Entertaining at least. XD
2.1 Awakening
- Location
- Canada
Aww yeah, getting in just under the wire.
I did say this month! Plus, this is the biggest chapter I've ever written, over a whopping 5.5k words.
Again, this is unbeta'd, and I may go in and fix a few things later, but here's the latest chapter, back in the head of our protagonist. Please let me know if you spot any spelling/grammar errors as per usual.
2.1 Awakening
As I slowly return to consciousness, my head pounding. I let out a groan. My vision swims for a moment, and I have to hold down my gorge through sheer force of will as everything seems to sway for a moment before stabilizing. A rainbow of colors flash across my field of view, and my head seems to pulse and ache in patterns that I can't understand.
It feels sort of like someone is playing my head like a piano, only instead of fingers they are using a nailgun. This is usually a sign that I have made some poor life choices.
I hear a high pitched whining sound, and a consistent beeping coming from somewhere nearby. As my vision clears all I can see is a sort of off-white blur. White walls, white floors, white… sheets? A partially cracked window in the corner of the room lets in a slight breeze, and I can see dust lazily gliding through the sunbeams peeking through the blinds.
Constant beeping? White room? Sure enough, I turn to my left and I can see an IV going into my arm, and a variety of medical equipment attached to my person. I really hope randomly waking up in places I don't understand with a vague feeling of unease and a splitting headache doesn't become a trend. I'm 2/2 in the days I've been here so far, and I don't particularly like those odds.
Oh who am I kidding. I'm in Worm. This is child-tier trauma.
Now if only I could see anything, without my glasses I might as well be looking through a London fog, there's no chance I'll be able to clearly see...
My vision suddenly clears. A light blue text seems to superimpose itself on my vision.
BrainOS 2.0 Boot: Vision Enhancement Online
Huh. Well, I guess that.. Worked?
I look around the room again. It's a standard hospital room, slightly off-white walls with greenish curtains around my bed. I seem to have my own room for some reason, though it's fairly small, there has clearly been some accommodation for privacy. Did they perhaps flag me as a potential cape? I did have the beginnings of a mask on. It would make sense for them to have some kind of precaution for that.
Wait, which hospital am I in anyways? I'm going to be very unhappy if after all that I'm in some E88 doctor chop shop. What is the last thing that happened anyways?
Right, let's review: tinker fugue, Tattletale, building the BMI, worries about the Simurgh/Cauldron, and…
And...
… Ok, so this is a problem. I can remember building the Brain-Machine Interface. I remember building what was basically a Zat gun. I remember something about a fake bomb, and I can remember shoving the thing into the back of my head, and then… nothing.
Also I remember there being an important reason why I had to build this first, and that I expected something to happen afterwards, but I don't…
Ok, so my brain just gave me an error message when i tried to remember something. This is a problem. This is a serious problem. I may have made a big mistake. Did I just open my brainmeats up to direct hacking? Am I already compromised? Am...
Really, I couldn't find a better codec than...
My vision blanks for a second and I'm in a perfectly white blank space, which my BMI seems to have cribbed from the Matrix. Nothing but blankness in every direction, and the fact that I'm not standing on anything and yet also not feeling any anxiousness about standing on nothing is almost enough to trigger a sort of meta-anxiety. White walls, white floors, strangely non-standard lighting. Man, you'd think I'd be a bit more creative than that.
Breaking up the tyranny of blankness in every direction, a single figure is standing in front of me. It's… me. Only it's a slightly more blurry me, especially around the face, which seems to be sort of fuzzed just enough to be unable to make out any features, almost like seeing someone in fast forward on an old VHS tape.
Ok. There was definitely something there, but my brain just refused to process it. It was a noticeable absence of concept. The sound was just replaced by a.. no even a buzzing, like a non-sound. Incredibly jarring. This is incredibly frea..
Alright. I can accept that logic. This does make sense to me, though I am going to maintain my self-serving opinion that Past Me is a dick.
… Did a pre-recorded message just sass me based on my stream of consciousness thought?
Well, that existential terror wasn't gone long.
I'm fairly certain suffering is a fundamental element on Earth Bet, so I am not surprised.
And the bubble pops and I'm back in the hospital room again. The loading screen in my vision has cleared and I seem to have a full on heads up display now. On my left I can see an outline of my body, with several sections outlined in red.
It's at this point I realize that both of my legs are broken. This is quite strange, as I can't feel any pain whatsoever in that part of my body, I guess my power is suppressing pain but allowing through the signal? Or maybe it's the cyberbrain? This is going to get confusing.
Oh no wait, I just have a severed spinal cord.
Well, that explains it.
When I zoom in, the nanocytes are already working on the repairs in orders of priority. I get the sense that I could manually direct them for a greater efficiency boost, but it would require me making a conscious effort. With a thought, I can bring up an ETA: About 10 minutes remaining to restore my severed spinal cord, about 2 hours to something called "Peak Concentration" of the nanocytes themselves, and about 1.5 hours to restore my… quite shattered legs.
Huh, severed both femoral arteries in 3 places. If the nanocytes didn't allow for basically instant clotting, I'd have bled out in under a minute. That's... alarming.
Well, it's not a bad healing factor though. Not Wolverine level certainly, but there are other uses as well. As I scan through my body model, I can see that where the nanocytes are repairing they are also upgrading. The spinal cord is being optimized, and a new sheath is being made around the rear of the spine of carbon-fibre and some other biologically derived materials. I think some of that is spider's silk. Probably pinged off of Taylor's shard there.
And the arms, well, that part went off without a hitch. So at least something went to plan.
It's at this point I realize someone has been trying to get my attention for a while now. I realize this as I look up and the person is about to poke me in the cheek. I automatically raise my arm to interpose it without properly processing what the person is saying.
"I said, 'Do I have your permission to…'"
I look up, my eyes taking in the white costume with the red cross on the hood, the dark circles under the eyes, and the bushy hair peeking out from under the edges of the White Mage inspired hood, and realize exactly how awkward this is about to be a split-second before Panacea's finger makes contact with the skin on my arm.
I make eye contact with her, and her eyes bug out as she instantly sees all the changes that have happened in my body, all the various modifications and upgrades which have perpetrated through my system, and the millions of nanocytes themselves making their way throughout my body performing their tasks. The quick fixes, the long term projects only partially begun, the interface weaving its tendrils throughout my brain, poking into every node and nodule and wrapping lines of nanowire down my spinal cord.
I find I can actually feel her attention shifting between parts of my body, as her power perhaps subconsciously grips onto parts of my biology, and my power seems to push back and reaffirm its own control over my 'self' in response. I suspect I could prevent her from making any changes against my will as a side aspect of my own bodily control power. That's nifty, but hopefully will not be needed.
"I.. you… what?" she sputters as she continues, clearly fascinated, to examine me. She is currently looking directly at a nanocyte, zooming in to examine its genetic code, its molecular motors and the artificial ribosomes used to construct various enzymes and proteins.
I reach up and touch her arm with my other hand. She starts, pulling out of her vision, and her fascination turns to a slight rush of fear. I can sense the adrenaline spiking in her system and can see the start of the fight-or-flight response, though she tamps it down admirably. I've been clearly rumbled as a Parahuman, no chance of getting out of this one subtly. Time to try the diplomatic approach.
"I'm not going to hurt you, but you're about to reveal something you probably shouldn't.." I whisper to her, with my eyes motioning behind her, where a nurse and doctor appear to be eyeing us from behind her back, I'm assuming they are accompanying her on her rounds, standing in the doorway of my room with a set of clipboards and charts in their hands.
She starts for a moment and then seems to collect herself. I notice at this point all of the signs of fatigue that should have been more evident to me at the beginning. Mental fatigue, physical fatigue, and a burgeoning case of burnout waiting in the wings. All the neurotransmitter deficits, the blocked dopamine receptors, the chronic insomnia. Even without pre-knowledge as to her fate, this view of Panacea would have let me intuit what her life has been like up to know and where she is likely going if nothing changes.
How easy it would be to use the kind of information my power gives me to manipulate people... When you can see all of the stresses a body is enduring, and you know a bit about a person's life... well.
Wow, I never considered just how invasive my Thinker power is. At a glance, I can gather more information about a person than the Big Data firms of Earth Prime could get with years of constant surveillance. And I'd always been such a critic of that kind of spying.
Strange how things change. I find myself less worried about the information when I have it. Not surprising, but still slightly disappointing.
Panacea drops my arm and moves to the door to say something to the doctor and nurse. They seem to be insisting on something but she firmly rebuffs them, and after a few moments they seem to acquiesce and leave, closing the door behind them.
"Alright," Panacea begins, sitting in the chair next to my bed again. "Let's start over. My name is Panacea, I am a registered Parahuman healer under the Kyushu Accords, id #USA-00157. Do you know where you are?"
I look up at her and think for a moment before responding. "I am guessing I am in Brockton Bay General Hospital. How I got here is more of a mystery to me."
She nods and marks something down on a chart in front of her. Her hand is slightly shaking as she does so, but she turns to me again. "Do you know who you are? You came here with no identification, and you haven't shown up in any database."
I raise an eyebrow as I reply. "Well, as you've already noticed I have a reason for not carrying ID around wherever I go. For now, I'm a John Doe."
She snorts. "Not exactly the textbook reply, but if there was something wrong with your brain I'm not sure I'd even be able to tell with that… whatever that is in there. Honestly I'm not sure how you are even speaking." She notes something else on the sheet as she continues. "As you seem to be of sound mind, I am required to ask for your consent before healing you. Do you consent to being healed with a parahuman ability?" At this point she looks almost hopeful, clearly interested in taking another look at my bod… my enhancemen...
Is there a way to phrase this that doesn't sound absolutely filthy? I don't think there is. Moving on.
"Hmm," I respond "I'm starting to work on that myself, but I am certain you could get it done much faster. So, yes, please go ahead Panacea." I nod and motion for her to begin, raising my arm.
She hesitantly reaches out towards my arm, as if having an argument with herself, and then takes a deep breath and lightly touches my exposed hand. I'm immediately aware of her attention, which takes a quick survey of my whole body, and then seems to 'focus' on my spine. As I watch, the ripped parts of the spinal cord, which were being slowly reconnected by the nanocytes seem to surge and move by themselves. The cells have raw chemical energy dumped into them, and they seem to be doing things they should not be able to do: as I watch a set of cells decomposes a destroyed nerve cell, absorbs the remains, and then rapidly undergoes cell division at a hugely accelerated rate. Despite this speed, the DNA makes no transcription errors, and a new cell is quickly formed. This same process repeats ten, a hundred, a thousand, a million times across the damaged area, and in mere seconds the repair is complete. A rush of sensation surges into me as the nerves reconnect, chaotic and slightly painful, but only for a split second before the connection is forcefully normalized by Panacea's power.
The same kind of effect moves with Panacea's attention to my legs, reconnecting the severed flesh and repairing the bone. When it reaches the bone marrow however it seems to pause. I get the mental image of a deep breath, as if she is only now noticing the nanoplasm I've replaced by bone marrow with - the nanocytes production factory. All of the bones who have had their bone marrow replaced have begun upgrading nearby themselves as a matter of course, so the nanoplasm is taking in free carbon from my bloodstream and re-purposing it into thin fibers which it is infusing into the bone around it. The only reason my leg bones broke was because the process had not spread that far by the time I suffered whatever trauma happened to me while I was out.
Which reminds me, I should probably find out what happened there at some point. I hope Tattletale got out alright, though I am a little miffed she left me behind. I'll have to have a chat with her while I get out of here.
While Panacea is entranced by the nanocytes and attending to my healing, I open the file my Past Self indicated and peruse the 'Goal List' that he claims was optimized for our current situation.
...What?
Alright, how am I supposed to...
Can I even do that? That's gonna cost like a billion dollars in raw materials alone!
Well, Path to Victory this isn't, but on the off chance I'm not crazy, I don't really have much of a choice. I have to accept the claim that information has been removed to operational security. I know exactly how insidious Worm space whale magic can be, and it's probably better it remains in whatever mondo encrypted subset of storage its currently in.
Well, Step 1 is to make sure Panacea doesn't go crazy, so here goes nothing.
I look up and meet her gaze, which focuses on me when I begin to move, though she still has a quite astonished look on her face.
"I don't understand," Panacea says hesitantly. "How do they work? I can see them moving, and I get a sense of what they can do but… something is missing. The instructions in their DNA - clearly artificial DNA at that, no junk data, no evolutionary history - don't connect to what they are doing… and what is that blank space by the nucleus? It's like…"
I interrupt her reverie and speak, "Your power must be unable to recognize that part, but it's a microscopic quantum computer."
I pause, flexing a mental muscle and ordering a group of nanocytes into a rough, cellular scale approximation of her name. Her eyes widen as she notices.
"It's the one thing that prevents the Gen 1 nanocytes from being a truly free-replicating colony, primarily because of the low quality materials I was forced to use to make them. The QPU in each unit contains a small transmitter, which connects to my central processor. " I tap myself on the head, indicating my BMI.
"This both allows the nanocytes to be directly controlled, and also allows them to network together, distributing processing power among both the entire swarm and my own unused mental processes. Because of this, they actually function much faster while I'm unconscious or asleep, or in a similar state of mental calm. However, the machinery is relatively crude, and the nanocytes are unable to replicate it themselves. They can scavenge it from damaged or destroyed nanocytes, but the machinery required to properly create it is microscale, too large for individual cells. That's what the nanoplasm is for. Aside from taking the place of my bone marrow, it also produces the required parts for nanocytes, as well as serving as extra factory space for any larger scale biochemical engineering. Each bone in my body has a larger multicelled QPU which connects to my biological network in the same manner, adding to the total processing power and allowing for multiple redundant sources of any chemical or biological compound. As a background process, they also produce a large amount of pluripotent stem cells, which are being stored in a small sack where my appendix used to be."
I pause. "Or at least, it will when the process is complete. It should take another 2 hours or so for the nanoplasm to penetrate my remaining bones."
As I explain, I can see Panacea's excitement as her internal view shifts to follow the different areas I describe, blurring around the edges of the technology.
I think she's getting ideas. That could be good or bad.
She looks up. "So, these things function as tiny remote control robots, going around your body fixing things?"
I smile as I respond, shifting my body as the healing sets in. I move to remove the IV and straighten to sit up in the bed. She starts, realizing she is still holding my shoulder, but seems hesitant to let go. I finish sitting up, and touch her wrist as I do.
Microscale holes in the epidermis of my fingers open as I make contact, and I gingerly push a hundred or so nanocytes through onto Panacea's skin as I do, the outer layer of the nanocytes generating a thin skin of dimethyl sulfoxide, allowing them to penetrate beneath her skin and into her bloodstream.
Where they are immediately focused on and atomized by her power. Huh. Right, I remember something about her having an automatic response to invasive biological contaminants. This was perhaps not my finest moment.
To be fair, I am still recovering from invasive self-inflicted brain surgery.
She jolts and pulls her hand back, glaring at me accusingly. I hold both my hands up in the air in the standard surrender gesture.
"Just a demonstration, I was going to show how they could be used to heal others as well, didn't expect the instant counter. To be fair, it probably would have been useful to have someone able to heal the superhealer. I understand your powers don't work on yourself." I put on a contrite look as I remain there for a moment, hands dropping.
Panacea softens for a moment, but retains a slight suspicious look.
Then I turn my hair green. It takes a moment for the change to propagate outward, the nanocytes generating and delivering the precisely correct chemical to remove and replace the existing dye in the follicles. She watches as it occurs, her eyes widening as I move in waves, changing from green to blue, to red, to violet, and back to my natural brown.
"As you can see," I say, as my hair finishes its change, "They can do more than just heal. They can also change, modify, and enhance. Just like you can."
She stares for a moment, and then realizes what I have said. "How did you…"
"Well," I reply, "I could say that I have a Thinker power which let me figure it out, which would be partially true. I observed you while you were fixing my injuries, and it wasn't just healing. Powers are wonky, but that was more than just healing, you have the ability to understand and focus on certain area, making changes as you go. It's not an automatic process, you have to have control and be able to make changes for that to work. You're a biokinetic, not a healer."
Her face falls as I speak, her breath coming in shorter gasps. I can tell she's starting to panic slightly, her stress levels are rising, and her adrenaline is spiking. This next part is going to be dicey.
"Panacea, calm down." I say in a calm voice, speaking softly but firmly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Hell, I can do the same kind of thing after a fashion, I'm certainly not going to fault you for your powers. I'm a biotinker. You think you've got a Nilbog sized stereotype looming over your head? I've got a little psychopath in pigtails over mine, and I'm not even sure which has the worse body count. I understand your fear, but you can't let it control you."
Her face distorts into a rictus of anger and pain, as she angrily replies. "And what do you know about it? You don't live with a woman who is always looking at you like she expects you to turn out evil, who never once asks how your day went, who knows - who must know - that you spend your every waking hour worrying that you aren't doing enough to help people, and who offers no support!"
She starts pacing the room. "You don't have a man who claims to be your father, but who can barely get out of bed most mornings. Who, although it isn't his fault entirely, notices you even less than the woman who claims to be your mother."
All at once the fury seems to leave her and she seems to almost collapse into the chair by the bed, the rage giving way entirely to despair. "You don't have a wonderful sister, who is as infuriating as she is perfect. Who gets all of the attention, all of the love. Who never notices how sick you are just staying in her shadow. Who…"
She pauses for a moment and looks up, meeting my eyes. "How can you know?"
I sit up in the bed, moving my now function legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed facing her in her chair. "I can't know much about you, not in that way. I can see the stresses your body is under, I can identify the precursors to burnout disorder, the lack of sleep, the stress hormones, all the biological factors to your current condition, but I can't simulate your own personal experience. I can't know how it is to be you any more than any other human being can know the internal thoughts of another. Only standard empathy here, nothing supernatural."
I speak firmly now, emulating her own professional-sounding voice earlier, the kind of voice that doctors, lawyers and other professionals are trained to adopt within their own spheres of influence, which makes people sit up and take notice of what they are saying.
"I am however, perhaps the world's foremost expert on how powers interact with the human brain, with the notable exception of perhaps one other person, but it's unlikely she is going to show up to give you a consultation.
"Powers.. they are not sentient, not really, but they do have a goalset. In the same way that biological beings wish to live, eat, and reproduce, powers have a set of values, and they can use the connections they have to the host's brain, the Corona Pollentia and the Gemma, to subtly influence their hosts in order to accomplish their goals." I gesture towards my and her heads to indicate the locations of the Gemma and Polentia.
"You've probably noticed this before, at least sub-consciously, but powers want to be used. And not just used, but used often, creatively, and most importantly in conflict. All powers have some kind of application to some kind of conflict generating behavior, most commonly combat, and they push their hosts subconsciously to fulfill that need to be used. You've probably seen Glory Girl, after a few days without a fight, get antsy and go out on a solo patrol to pick a fight with some gangers. That ansty behaviour and the desire for conflict is what is driving her to do so."
I pause for a moment and bring a hand up to my chin as if thinking. "I have a feeling that may be why so many parahumans end up in the villain camp. It's harder to be seen as a hero when your power drives you to reckless combat. I think some powers have a harsher conflict drive than others, but I suspect someone like Glory Girl might have found herself labelled a villain early on if she arose in different circumstances and not as part of an existing Hero cape family. She's lucky to have you there to clean up her mistakes."
I drop my hand and turn back to Panacea. She seems to want to say something so I pause and wait for her to respond.
"I'm not..." she pauses. "It makes... sense a bit. I do get the urges sometimes to.. to do more. But I can't let myself. I have rules. If I broke those rules I.. how could I stop? How could I be stopped if I went too far?"
She looks at me with haunted eyes. "Nilbog, they thought he was dangerous. I could eat Nilbog for breakfast. You don't understand, nobody does. I'm not as personally powerful as most class S threats, but all it would take is a split second's thought, a moment's break, and I could kill millions. Maybe billions. It's too much. Too much power for me. I can't.. i can't handle it..."
I reach over, hesitantly at first, then firmly, and I take her hand. She tries to pull away, but I hold firm. "I think you can. I think people should be judged based on what they have done, not on what their potential for destruction could be. Your actions speak for you. You are the kind of person who, when given the power to do anything, spends most of her time helping people. Yes, your reasons for that were perhaps influenced by your frankly abysmal family life, yes, you've had passing thoughts about doing differently, you may even have fantasized about it."
I stare into her eyes and emphasize clearly. "But you have. Not. Done it. You've had hundreds, thousands of opportunities, you've never used your powers for evil. Even when sorely pressed, even despite the stress and the pain, and the sorrow which you deal with day after day, and the pressure from your power to do more, you've relented." I pause smiling. "That doesn't sound like someone too weak to deal with the power. To me, that sounds like someone who is strong. Someone who holds up even under immense pressure that would crush someone twice your age. Adult doctors with perfect home lives and half your responsibility level regularly fail under much lower stresses than you are dealing with at this moment."
"You're not weak Panacea, you're stronger than you think."
I hold that pose for a few seconds, and wait for her response.
I don't expect a laugh, but that's what I get.
It starts small, just a slight exhale, and then it starts to grow into a giggle, and then the dam breaks, leading to full on laughter tumbling forth like a river held back for far too long.
It's contagious, and despite the sudden tonal shift, I end up laughing myself as well. I can see her amusement, though not where it is coming from. And that seems to make it even more contagious.
After a few minutes we settle down, her haunted eyes replaced by those red with tears from the laughter. She smiles at me.
"You're a bit of an idiot you know? Who even talks like that? You speak like you're some hero in a television show, trying to convince a friend to stand and fight. So dramatic." She giggles again, and has to pause to wipe her eyes with the tissues on the table by the bed.
I smile slightly at that. "Alright, perhaps a bit much, but it was all true anyways. That's what I honestly believe Panacea."
"Amy."
I pause. "What?"
"Call me Amy. It feels weird to have this conversation about Panacea. Panacea doesn't have conversations like this. Panacea just heals." She stops for a moment and sits back in the chair, her head tiliting back to look at the ceiling. "Panacea doesn't consider... doesn't consider doing anything different. Panacea has rules, because she can't be trusted without them."
I speak up. "Panacea is just someone you can be. You don't have to be her. You can be Amy if you want to." She hesitantly nods. Still smiling wanly.
I hold out my hand as if to shake. "It's nice to meet you Amy. I'm Jack."
She takes my hand.
Well, that went better than I thought it would.
"Now, I'd like to talk more about this, but I'm guessing that the doctors are either suspicious or are figuring out now than I'm a parahuman, and I suspect that some kind of call is going to go out to the Protectorate if you don't confirm I haven't Mastered you or something."
Amy nods. "Part of the procedure when an unknown parahuman is brought in. Your wounds should have killed you, so you were marked as a potential new trigger and brought to a private room. There are actually several PRT agents posted outside, and Armsmaster is on call to come over if anything happens. Plus everyone knows that harming a healer acting under the Kyushu Accords is pretty much an automatic Kill Order, so usually we deal with this without incident."
I stop for a moment and think. I don't remember anything about a 'Kyushu Accord' in canon. Is this something unique here or was it just never mentioned? Admittedly we mostly saw Panacea at her worst in canon, and my memory isn't perfect, but still. I'll have to get a copy of that when I get access to the internet.
Come to think of it, why don't I have access... Ah, the room, maybe the whole hospital is an air-gapped Faraday Cage. In a world with black hat hacker Tinkers, that's just common sense.
I turn back to Amy. "Alright. Well i have an idea to both help with your power-induced ennui and help me make a good impression on the Protectorate, and also perhaps help a bit with your home life. I'll just need your help with a few things..."
Amy seems to perk up as she realizes what I mean. "You want me to make something?"
I smile. "Well, really I was thinking more of a collaboration..."
End 2.1
I did say this month! Plus, this is the biggest chapter I've ever written, over a whopping 5.5k words.
Again, this is unbeta'd, and I may go in and fix a few things later, but here's the latest chapter, back in the head of our protagonist. Please let me know if you spot any spelling/grammar errors as per usual.
2.1 Awakening
As I slowly return to consciousness, my head pounding. I let out a groan. My vision swims for a moment, and I have to hold down my gorge through sheer force of will as everything seems to sway for a moment before stabilizing. A rainbow of colors flash across my field of view, and my head seems to pulse and ache in patterns that I can't understand.
It feels sort of like someone is playing my head like a piano, only instead of fingers they are using a nailgun. This is usually a sign that I have made some poor life choices.
I hear a high pitched whining sound, and a consistent beeping coming from somewhere nearby. As my vision clears all I can see is a sort of off-white blur. White walls, white floors, white… sheets? A partially cracked window in the corner of the room lets in a slight breeze, and I can see dust lazily gliding through the sunbeams peeking through the blinds.
Constant beeping? White room? Sure enough, I turn to my left and I can see an IV going into my arm, and a variety of medical equipment attached to my person. I really hope randomly waking up in places I don't understand with a vague feeling of unease and a splitting headache doesn't become a trend. I'm 2/2 in the days I've been here so far, and I don't particularly like those odds.
Oh who am I kidding. I'm in Worm. This is child-tier trauma.
Now if only I could see anything, without my glasses I might as well be looking through a London fog, there's no chance I'll be able to clearly see...
My vision suddenly clears. A light blue text seems to superimpose itself on my vision.
BrainOS 2.0 Boot: Vision Enhancement Online
I look around the room again. It's a standard hospital room, slightly off-white walls with greenish curtains around my bed. I seem to have my own room for some reason, though it's fairly small, there has clearly been some accommodation for privacy. Did they perhaps flag me as a potential cape? I did have the beginnings of a mask on. It would make sense for them to have some kind of precaution for that.
Wait, which hospital am I in anyways? I'm going to be very unhappy if after all that I'm in some E88 doctor chop shop. What is the last thing that happened anyways?
Right, let's review: tinker fugue, Tattletale, building the BMI, worries about the Simurgh/Cauldron, and…
And...
… Ok, so this is a problem. I can remember building the Brain-Machine Interface. I remember building what was basically a Zat gun. I remember something about a fake bomb, and I can remember shoving the thing into the back of my head, and then… nothing.
Also I remember there being an important reason why I had to build this first, and that I expected something to happen afterwards, but I don't…
Access Denied.
Ok, so my brain just gave me an error message when i tried to remember something. This is a problem. This is a serious problem. I may have made a big mistake. Did I just open my brainmeats up to direct hacking? Am I already compromised? Am...
Playing "Dontpanic.avi"
Really, I couldn't find a better codec than...
My vision blanks for a second and I'm in a perfectly white blank space, which my BMI seems to have cribbed from the Matrix. Nothing but blankness in every direction, and the fact that I'm not standing on anything and yet also not feeling any anxiousness about standing on nothing is almost enough to trigger a sort of meta-anxiety. White walls, white floors, strangely non-standard lighting. Man, you'd think I'd be a bit more creative than that.
Breaking up the tyranny of blankness in every direction, a single figure is standing in front of me. It's… me. Only it's a slightly more blurry me, especially around the face, which seems to be sort of fuzzed just enough to be unable to make out any features, almost like seeing someone in fast forward on an old VHS tape.
"Hey. So, if you've triggered this, you've noticed that you can't remember things about ________."
Ok. There was definitely something there, but my brain just refused to process it. It was a noticeable absence of concept. The sound was just replaced by a.. no even a buzzing, like a non-sound. Incredibly jarring. This is incredibly frea..
"Stop Panicking. This was part of the plan. Yes Worm doesn't really have psychics in the literal sense, but we know that the Simurgh at least can read and alter brainmeat so as to have effectively no difference. This is operational security. You can't give away, even involuntarily what you don't know, and we know exactly how important this thing is."
Alright. I can accept that logic. This does make sense to me, though I am going to maintain my self-serving opinion that Past Me is a dick.
"Yeah, I'm not too fond of this either, but it has to be done. Also, fuck you too buddy."
… Did a pre-recorded message just sass me based on my stream of consciousness thought?
Well, that existential terror wasn't gone long.
"Ok look, what I can tell you is in a file called 'Goalset', the BMI should bring it up. We have had some time to think clearly, and the priority list there should be able to walk you through what we have to accomplish in the short and long terms. I won't lie to you, it's going to suck."
I'm fairly certain suffering is a fundamental element on Earth Bet, so I am not surprised.
"I'll get back to you on that. However you should probably pay attention, someone is knocking on the door."
Ok, there is no way you could…And the bubble pops and I'm back in the hospital room again. The loading screen in my vision has cleared and I seem to have a full on heads up display now. On my left I can see an outline of my body, with several sections outlined in red.
It's at this point I realize that both of my legs are broken. This is quite strange, as I can't feel any pain whatsoever in that part of my body, I guess my power is suppressing pain but allowing through the signal? Or maybe it's the cyberbrain? This is going to get confusing.
Oh no wait, I just have a severed spinal cord.
Well, that explains it.
When I zoom in, the nanocytes are already working on the repairs in orders of priority. I get the sense that I could manually direct them for a greater efficiency boost, but it would require me making a conscious effort. With a thought, I can bring up an ETA: About 10 minutes remaining to restore my severed spinal cord, about 2 hours to something called "Peak Concentration" of the nanocytes themselves, and about 1.5 hours to restore my… quite shattered legs.
Huh, severed both femoral arteries in 3 places. If the nanocytes didn't allow for basically instant clotting, I'd have bled out in under a minute. That's... alarming.
Well, it's not a bad healing factor though. Not Wolverine level certainly, but there are other uses as well. As I scan through my body model, I can see that where the nanocytes are repairing they are also upgrading. The spinal cord is being optimized, and a new sheath is being made around the rear of the spine of carbon-fibre and some other biologically derived materials. I think some of that is spider's silk. Probably pinged off of Taylor's shard there.
And the arms, well, that part went off without a hitch. So at least something went to plan.
It's at this point I realize someone has been trying to get my attention for a while now. I realize this as I look up and the person is about to poke me in the cheek. I automatically raise my arm to interpose it without properly processing what the person is saying.
"I said, 'Do I have your permission to…'"
I look up, my eyes taking in the white costume with the red cross on the hood, the dark circles under the eyes, and the bushy hair peeking out from under the edges of the White Mage inspired hood, and realize exactly how awkward this is about to be a split-second before Panacea's finger makes contact with the skin on my arm.
I make eye contact with her, and her eyes bug out as she instantly sees all the changes that have happened in my body, all the various modifications and upgrades which have perpetrated through my system, and the millions of nanocytes themselves making their way throughout my body performing their tasks. The quick fixes, the long term projects only partially begun, the interface weaving its tendrils throughout my brain, poking into every node and nodule and wrapping lines of nanowire down my spinal cord.
I find I can actually feel her attention shifting between parts of my body, as her power perhaps subconsciously grips onto parts of my biology, and my power seems to push back and reaffirm its own control over my 'self' in response. I suspect I could prevent her from making any changes against my will as a side aspect of my own bodily control power. That's nifty, but hopefully will not be needed.
"I.. you… what?" she sputters as she continues, clearly fascinated, to examine me. She is currently looking directly at a nanocyte, zooming in to examine its genetic code, its molecular motors and the artificial ribosomes used to construct various enzymes and proteins.
I reach up and touch her arm with my other hand. She starts, pulling out of her vision, and her fascination turns to a slight rush of fear. I can sense the adrenaline spiking in her system and can see the start of the fight-or-flight response, though she tamps it down admirably. I've been clearly rumbled as a Parahuman, no chance of getting out of this one subtly. Time to try the diplomatic approach.
"I'm not going to hurt you, but you're about to reveal something you probably shouldn't.." I whisper to her, with my eyes motioning behind her, where a nurse and doctor appear to be eyeing us from behind her back, I'm assuming they are accompanying her on her rounds, standing in the doorway of my room with a set of clipboards and charts in their hands.
She starts for a moment and then seems to collect herself. I notice at this point all of the signs of fatigue that should have been more evident to me at the beginning. Mental fatigue, physical fatigue, and a burgeoning case of burnout waiting in the wings. All the neurotransmitter deficits, the blocked dopamine receptors, the chronic insomnia. Even without pre-knowledge as to her fate, this view of Panacea would have let me intuit what her life has been like up to know and where she is likely going if nothing changes.
How easy it would be to use the kind of information my power gives me to manipulate people... When you can see all of the stresses a body is enduring, and you know a bit about a person's life... well.
Wow, I never considered just how invasive my Thinker power is. At a glance, I can gather more information about a person than the Big Data firms of Earth Prime could get with years of constant surveillance. And I'd always been such a critic of that kind of spying.
Strange how things change. I find myself less worried about the information when I have it. Not surprising, but still slightly disappointing.
Panacea drops my arm and moves to the door to say something to the doctor and nurse. They seem to be insisting on something but she firmly rebuffs them, and after a few moments they seem to acquiesce and leave, closing the door behind them.
"Alright," Panacea begins, sitting in the chair next to my bed again. "Let's start over. My name is Panacea, I am a registered Parahuman healer under the Kyushu Accords, id #USA-00157. Do you know where you are?"
I look up at her and think for a moment before responding. "I am guessing I am in Brockton Bay General Hospital. How I got here is more of a mystery to me."
She nods and marks something down on a chart in front of her. Her hand is slightly shaking as she does so, but she turns to me again. "Do you know who you are? You came here with no identification, and you haven't shown up in any database."
I raise an eyebrow as I reply. "Well, as you've already noticed I have a reason for not carrying ID around wherever I go. For now, I'm a John Doe."
She snorts. "Not exactly the textbook reply, but if there was something wrong with your brain I'm not sure I'd even be able to tell with that… whatever that is in there. Honestly I'm not sure how you are even speaking." She notes something else on the sheet as she continues. "As you seem to be of sound mind, I am required to ask for your consent before healing you. Do you consent to being healed with a parahuman ability?" At this point she looks almost hopeful, clearly interested in taking another look at my bod… my enhancemen...
Is there a way to phrase this that doesn't sound absolutely filthy? I don't think there is. Moving on.
"Hmm," I respond "I'm starting to work on that myself, but I am certain you could get it done much faster. So, yes, please go ahead Panacea." I nod and motion for her to begin, raising my arm.
She hesitantly reaches out towards my arm, as if having an argument with herself, and then takes a deep breath and lightly touches my exposed hand. I'm immediately aware of her attention, which takes a quick survey of my whole body, and then seems to 'focus' on my spine. As I watch, the ripped parts of the spinal cord, which were being slowly reconnected by the nanocytes seem to surge and move by themselves. The cells have raw chemical energy dumped into them, and they seem to be doing things they should not be able to do: as I watch a set of cells decomposes a destroyed nerve cell, absorbs the remains, and then rapidly undergoes cell division at a hugely accelerated rate. Despite this speed, the DNA makes no transcription errors, and a new cell is quickly formed. This same process repeats ten, a hundred, a thousand, a million times across the damaged area, and in mere seconds the repair is complete. A rush of sensation surges into me as the nerves reconnect, chaotic and slightly painful, but only for a split second before the connection is forcefully normalized by Panacea's power.
The same kind of effect moves with Panacea's attention to my legs, reconnecting the severed flesh and repairing the bone. When it reaches the bone marrow however it seems to pause. I get the mental image of a deep breath, as if she is only now noticing the nanoplasm I've replaced by bone marrow with - the nanocytes production factory. All of the bones who have had their bone marrow replaced have begun upgrading nearby themselves as a matter of course, so the nanoplasm is taking in free carbon from my bloodstream and re-purposing it into thin fibers which it is infusing into the bone around it. The only reason my leg bones broke was because the process had not spread that far by the time I suffered whatever trauma happened to me while I was out.
Which reminds me, I should probably find out what happened there at some point. I hope Tattletale got out alright, though I am a little miffed she left me behind. I'll have to have a chat with her while I get out of here.
While Panacea is entranced by the nanocytes and attending to my healing, I open the file my Past Self indicated and peruse the 'Goal List' that he claims was optimized for our current situation.
...What?
Alright, how am I supposed to...
Can I even do that? That's gonna cost like a billion dollars in raw materials alone!
Well, Path to Victory this isn't, but on the off chance I'm not crazy, I don't really have much of a choice. I have to accept the claim that information has been removed to operational security. I know exactly how insidious Worm space whale magic can be, and it's probably better it remains in whatever mondo encrypted subset of storage its currently in.
Well, Step 1 is to make sure Panacea doesn't go crazy, so here goes nothing.
I look up and meet her gaze, which focuses on me when I begin to move, though she still has a quite astonished look on her face.
"I don't understand," Panacea says hesitantly. "How do they work? I can see them moving, and I get a sense of what they can do but… something is missing. The instructions in their DNA - clearly artificial DNA at that, no junk data, no evolutionary history - don't connect to what they are doing… and what is that blank space by the nucleus? It's like…"
I interrupt her reverie and speak, "Your power must be unable to recognize that part, but it's a microscopic quantum computer."
I pause, flexing a mental muscle and ordering a group of nanocytes into a rough, cellular scale approximation of her name. Her eyes widen as she notices.
"It's the one thing that prevents the Gen 1 nanocytes from being a truly free-replicating colony, primarily because of the low quality materials I was forced to use to make them. The QPU in each unit contains a small transmitter, which connects to my central processor. " I tap myself on the head, indicating my BMI.
"This both allows the nanocytes to be directly controlled, and also allows them to network together, distributing processing power among both the entire swarm and my own unused mental processes. Because of this, they actually function much faster while I'm unconscious or asleep, or in a similar state of mental calm. However, the machinery is relatively crude, and the nanocytes are unable to replicate it themselves. They can scavenge it from damaged or destroyed nanocytes, but the machinery required to properly create it is microscale, too large for individual cells. That's what the nanoplasm is for. Aside from taking the place of my bone marrow, it also produces the required parts for nanocytes, as well as serving as extra factory space for any larger scale biochemical engineering. Each bone in my body has a larger multicelled QPU which connects to my biological network in the same manner, adding to the total processing power and allowing for multiple redundant sources of any chemical or biological compound. As a background process, they also produce a large amount of pluripotent stem cells, which are being stored in a small sack where my appendix used to be."
I pause. "Or at least, it will when the process is complete. It should take another 2 hours or so for the nanoplasm to penetrate my remaining bones."
As I explain, I can see Panacea's excitement as her internal view shifts to follow the different areas I describe, blurring around the edges of the technology.
I think she's getting ideas. That could be good or bad.
She looks up. "So, these things function as tiny remote control robots, going around your body fixing things?"
I smile as I respond, shifting my body as the healing sets in. I move to remove the IV and straighten to sit up in the bed. She starts, realizing she is still holding my shoulder, but seems hesitant to let go. I finish sitting up, and touch her wrist as I do.
Microscale holes in the epidermis of my fingers open as I make contact, and I gingerly push a hundred or so nanocytes through onto Panacea's skin as I do, the outer layer of the nanocytes generating a thin skin of dimethyl sulfoxide, allowing them to penetrate beneath her skin and into her bloodstream.
Where they are immediately focused on and atomized by her power. Huh. Right, I remember something about her having an automatic response to invasive biological contaminants. This was perhaps not my finest moment.
To be fair, I am still recovering from invasive self-inflicted brain surgery.
She jolts and pulls her hand back, glaring at me accusingly. I hold both my hands up in the air in the standard surrender gesture.
"Just a demonstration, I was going to show how they could be used to heal others as well, didn't expect the instant counter. To be fair, it probably would have been useful to have someone able to heal the superhealer. I understand your powers don't work on yourself." I put on a contrite look as I remain there for a moment, hands dropping.
Panacea softens for a moment, but retains a slight suspicious look.
Then I turn my hair green. It takes a moment for the change to propagate outward, the nanocytes generating and delivering the precisely correct chemical to remove and replace the existing dye in the follicles. She watches as it occurs, her eyes widening as I move in waves, changing from green to blue, to red, to violet, and back to my natural brown.
"As you can see," I say, as my hair finishes its change, "They can do more than just heal. They can also change, modify, and enhance. Just like you can."
She stares for a moment, and then realizes what I have said. "How did you…"
"Well," I reply, "I could say that I have a Thinker power which let me figure it out, which would be partially true. I observed you while you were fixing my injuries, and it wasn't just healing. Powers are wonky, but that was more than just healing, you have the ability to understand and focus on certain area, making changes as you go. It's not an automatic process, you have to have control and be able to make changes for that to work. You're a biokinetic, not a healer."
Her face falls as I speak, her breath coming in shorter gasps. I can tell she's starting to panic slightly, her stress levels are rising, and her adrenaline is spiking. This next part is going to be dicey.
"Panacea, calm down." I say in a calm voice, speaking softly but firmly. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Hell, I can do the same kind of thing after a fashion, I'm certainly not going to fault you for your powers. I'm a biotinker. You think you've got a Nilbog sized stereotype looming over your head? I've got a little psychopath in pigtails over mine, and I'm not even sure which has the worse body count. I understand your fear, but you can't let it control you."
Her face distorts into a rictus of anger and pain, as she angrily replies. "And what do you know about it? You don't live with a woman who is always looking at you like she expects you to turn out evil, who never once asks how your day went, who knows - who must know - that you spend your every waking hour worrying that you aren't doing enough to help people, and who offers no support!"
She starts pacing the room. "You don't have a man who claims to be your father, but who can barely get out of bed most mornings. Who, although it isn't his fault entirely, notices you even less than the woman who claims to be your mother."
All at once the fury seems to leave her and she seems to almost collapse into the chair by the bed, the rage giving way entirely to despair. "You don't have a wonderful sister, who is as infuriating as she is perfect. Who gets all of the attention, all of the love. Who never notices how sick you are just staying in her shadow. Who…"
She pauses for a moment and looks up, meeting my eyes. "How can you know?"
I sit up in the bed, moving my now function legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed facing her in her chair. "I can't know much about you, not in that way. I can see the stresses your body is under, I can identify the precursors to burnout disorder, the lack of sleep, the stress hormones, all the biological factors to your current condition, but I can't simulate your own personal experience. I can't know how it is to be you any more than any other human being can know the internal thoughts of another. Only standard empathy here, nothing supernatural."
I speak firmly now, emulating her own professional-sounding voice earlier, the kind of voice that doctors, lawyers and other professionals are trained to adopt within their own spheres of influence, which makes people sit up and take notice of what they are saying.
"I am however, perhaps the world's foremost expert on how powers interact with the human brain, with the notable exception of perhaps one other person, but it's unlikely she is going to show up to give you a consultation.
"Powers.. they are not sentient, not really, but they do have a goalset. In the same way that biological beings wish to live, eat, and reproduce, powers have a set of values, and they can use the connections they have to the host's brain, the Corona Pollentia and the Gemma, to subtly influence their hosts in order to accomplish their goals." I gesture towards my and her heads to indicate the locations of the Gemma and Polentia.
"You've probably noticed this before, at least sub-consciously, but powers want to be used. And not just used, but used often, creatively, and most importantly in conflict. All powers have some kind of application to some kind of conflict generating behavior, most commonly combat, and they push their hosts subconsciously to fulfill that need to be used. You've probably seen Glory Girl, after a few days without a fight, get antsy and go out on a solo patrol to pick a fight with some gangers. That ansty behaviour and the desire for conflict is what is driving her to do so."
I pause for a moment and bring a hand up to my chin as if thinking. "I have a feeling that may be why so many parahumans end up in the villain camp. It's harder to be seen as a hero when your power drives you to reckless combat. I think some powers have a harsher conflict drive than others, but I suspect someone like Glory Girl might have found herself labelled a villain early on if she arose in different circumstances and not as part of an existing Hero cape family. She's lucky to have you there to clean up her mistakes."
I drop my hand and turn back to Panacea. She seems to want to say something so I pause and wait for her to respond.
"I'm not..." she pauses. "It makes... sense a bit. I do get the urges sometimes to.. to do more. But I can't let myself. I have rules. If I broke those rules I.. how could I stop? How could I be stopped if I went too far?"
She looks at me with haunted eyes. "Nilbog, they thought he was dangerous. I could eat Nilbog for breakfast. You don't understand, nobody does. I'm not as personally powerful as most class S threats, but all it would take is a split second's thought, a moment's break, and I could kill millions. Maybe billions. It's too much. Too much power for me. I can't.. i can't handle it..."
I reach over, hesitantly at first, then firmly, and I take her hand. She tries to pull away, but I hold firm. "I think you can. I think people should be judged based on what they have done, not on what their potential for destruction could be. Your actions speak for you. You are the kind of person who, when given the power to do anything, spends most of her time helping people. Yes, your reasons for that were perhaps influenced by your frankly abysmal family life, yes, you've had passing thoughts about doing differently, you may even have fantasized about it."
I stare into her eyes and emphasize clearly. "But you have. Not. Done it. You've had hundreds, thousands of opportunities, you've never used your powers for evil. Even when sorely pressed, even despite the stress and the pain, and the sorrow which you deal with day after day, and the pressure from your power to do more, you've relented." I pause smiling. "That doesn't sound like someone too weak to deal with the power. To me, that sounds like someone who is strong. Someone who holds up even under immense pressure that would crush someone twice your age. Adult doctors with perfect home lives and half your responsibility level regularly fail under much lower stresses than you are dealing with at this moment."
"You're not weak Panacea, you're stronger than you think."
I hold that pose for a few seconds, and wait for her response.
I don't expect a laugh, but that's what I get.
It starts small, just a slight exhale, and then it starts to grow into a giggle, and then the dam breaks, leading to full on laughter tumbling forth like a river held back for far too long.
It's contagious, and despite the sudden tonal shift, I end up laughing myself as well. I can see her amusement, though not where it is coming from. And that seems to make it even more contagious.
After a few minutes we settle down, her haunted eyes replaced by those red with tears from the laughter. She smiles at me.
"You're a bit of an idiot you know? Who even talks like that? You speak like you're some hero in a television show, trying to convince a friend to stand and fight. So dramatic." She giggles again, and has to pause to wipe her eyes with the tissues on the table by the bed.
I smile slightly at that. "Alright, perhaps a bit much, but it was all true anyways. That's what I honestly believe Panacea."
"Amy."
I pause. "What?"
"Call me Amy. It feels weird to have this conversation about Panacea. Panacea doesn't have conversations like this. Panacea just heals." She stops for a moment and sits back in the chair, her head tiliting back to look at the ceiling. "Panacea doesn't consider... doesn't consider doing anything different. Panacea has rules, because she can't be trusted without them."
I speak up. "Panacea is just someone you can be. You don't have to be her. You can be Amy if you want to." She hesitantly nods. Still smiling wanly.
I hold out my hand as if to shake. "It's nice to meet you Amy. I'm Jack."
She takes my hand.
Well, that went better than I thought it would.
"Now, I'd like to talk more about this, but I'm guessing that the doctors are either suspicious or are figuring out now than I'm a parahuman, and I suspect that some kind of call is going to go out to the Protectorate if you don't confirm I haven't Mastered you or something."
Amy nods. "Part of the procedure when an unknown parahuman is brought in. Your wounds should have killed you, so you were marked as a potential new trigger and brought to a private room. There are actually several PRT agents posted outside, and Armsmaster is on call to come over if anything happens. Plus everyone knows that harming a healer acting under the Kyushu Accords is pretty much an automatic Kill Order, so usually we deal with this without incident."
I stop for a moment and think. I don't remember anything about a 'Kyushu Accord' in canon. Is this something unique here or was it just never mentioned? Admittedly we mostly saw Panacea at her worst in canon, and my memory isn't perfect, but still. I'll have to get a copy of that when I get access to the internet.
Come to think of it, why don't I have access... Ah, the room, maybe the whole hospital is an air-gapped Faraday Cage. In a world with black hat hacker Tinkers, that's just common sense.
I turn back to Amy. "Alright. Well i have an idea to both help with your power-induced ennui and help me make a good impression on the Protectorate, and also perhaps help a bit with your home life. I'll just need your help with a few things..."
Amy seems to perk up as she realizes what I mean. "You want me to make something?"
I smile. "Well, really I was thinking more of a collaboration..."
End 2.1
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- Location
- Maybe?
I realize it's a coincidence, but I imagine that would be quite a terrifying bombshell to drop if someone were listening in.
"With my near supernatural insight which I'll claim to be entirely mundane, I can totally manipulate this biokinetic to use her powers to do other things than to heal! My name? Hi, I'm Jack." Insert zoom out with ominous music.
- Location
- Canada
Y'know, you're exactly right, but I had completely forgot about this at the time.
- Location
- Canada
To be fair, that aspect of Jack Slash's powers isn't known yet. Maybe Cauldron or some Thinkers who've been silenced know but neither the PRT/Protectorate nor the public know.
Admittedly, since survivors and recordings probably exist of S9 attacks, people should know he's a charismatic guy whose good at talking/convincing but they shouldn't know about Broadcast's Thinker aspect. If they did, how they combat him would be very different.
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Though to make it worse, he's now shown he's a nearly supernaturally intuitive guy named Jack who has a biotinker artifacts in his body which give him a changer ability. Could Riley have created something like that and given it to Jack Slash before he Changed and then the S9 damaged him and left him to be discovered, letting him infiltrate the hospital and get in contact with Panacea?
Sure, it seems quite advanced compared to what Riley has done in the past, but everything he's shown so far could have been him just using a more advanced copy of the nanites and having an internal quantum communication system (to bypass the Faraday Cage) to Riley whose feeding him data on what device they want Panacea to build.
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