At least her son was safe. Calling her husband on repeat was the only thing keeping her sane. If one of the big monkey-like things outside decided to have a peek in their tower, they were as good as dead.
She swallowed heavily. She had a job to do.
Hanna was a professional. She didn’t just have to act professional; every pore of her body had to look perfect. Every microexpression had to support the tone of her current news snippet. She even had to change the name she introduced herself as for a more naturally flowing cadence. She was confident because she had to be. While some people would trust one news channel over another, nobody trusted someone who sounded like they didn’t believe in what they were talking about.
Even now, Hanna could not believe what she was reading. It was so wild and out there that she only noticed that she hadn’t introduced herself when the red ‘LIVE’ marker was on and her mouth was already moving.
“It is day four since the official invasion of Earth on a global scale. From Chicago to Washington, pink shapeshifting creatures, dubbed ‘coral mimics’, continue to rain from the sky, leaving terror and confusion in their wake. Amidst the chaos, with the army still deploying and local law enforcement overwhelmed, groups of vigilantes have taken up the task of driving these invaders from our homes. They have yet to release a statement on which organization they belong to or what their plans are beyond their often awesome acts of violence, but one thing is for sure: They are not all entirely human. Vampires, werewolves… chupacabras — really? Goatsuckers? I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
She stared at the teleprompter as if it had insulted her mother. “I am a professional damnit, I can’t go on talking about, what, fantasy monsters during a national crisis. Are these people even real? Have any of you seen, actually seen something besides pink monsters outside? Do we have any updates from the national guard, the FBI, t-the—”
An explosion rocked the studio. There was a hole in the wall right behind Hanna, and a huge pink creature that looked like a mix between a buff human and a squid was lying on the studio floor, its head half torn off. On top of the twitching carcass, there stood something entirely otherworldly.
It was humanoid in shape, two legs, two arms. But its skin was red and stretched over too long arms and a gaunt ovine face. Its legs were goat-hoofed, notably wearing… white socks under yellow sandals? It was also wearing cargo shorts and a Hawaiian T-shirt. And its eyes… the two blood-red orbs would have looked intimidating if they weren’t busy looking in opposite directions.
The odd creature looked at her with its sideways gaze and tipped its wide-brimmed outback hat.
“Soz’ about that.” It snapped its fingers and the squid-faced mimic burst into flames. The news anchor watched in grim fascination as the multi-ton creature shriveled before her eyes, as if rapidly aging before turning to dust. The fire continued on to the hole in the wall where loose rubble returned to where it had once been part of it, stitching the hole back until it was as if there had never been a hole in the first place. “There, good as new. G’day mates, ladies, got a window I can perhaps scamper off through? Oh, that thing running? Hiya Mum. Don’t think I’m catching me flight home. No worries, but don’t wait on me for dinner, yeah? Luv', and cheers to the rest of ya.”
It waved at the camera, which followed it as it awkwardly stalked through the back of the set. There were muttered whispers of surprise, horror, and confusion. Hanna, her hair a complete mess, stared at the creature in shock before turning back to the camera.
“... You heard it here first. Chupacabras, at the very least, are real. This is Channel 5 news, Hanna Mary, signing off.”
+++
“There! Pause it right there!” Lily yelled, pointing at a reel of pictures taken across the world, showing Custodians in the middle of being awesome, saving some poor soul, or smiling all friendly-like into the camera while handing out autographs.
I supposed that this was part of the whole ‘first impressions’ plan that The Society was forced to rush on through now that the aliens were here ten years earlier than expected. All in all, Channel 5 wasn’t showing us in all that bad of a light.
“That does look an awful lot like our Samantha,” Mom said as I watched a short video someone had taken on their phone. It showed me hopping off of Ted’s pickup and summoning a bunch of medical devices out of thin air. Apparently my extra arms had plucked a pair of leaper spines from my leg and abdomen at the same time. I hadn’t even noticed, face set in a rictus of pure concentration.
“Our little hero.” Mom sounded proud.
“I’m not a hero,” I mumbled in protest.
“You saved an entire mall filled with people,” Mom said, counting on her fingers.
“—You know magic—” Lily interrupted.
“Magic, yes, Lily—”
“—You blow up friggin’ aliens. You’re all spidery! Can you shoot webs from your butt? Are your bites venomous?” Lily gasped. “Can you shoot poisonous spiderwebs? Can I do that? And why is there a little gnome sticking out of your backpack watching me?”
“I’m a type of non-toxic, non web-weaving spider. And that’s Moe, my dedicated loader.” I blinked after a moment. “You can see him?”
“My side of the family always had good eyes. Well, except for me.” Mom waved me off.
I stared at her for a while longer than I should have. When I next looked Mom in the eyes, she seemed to have already taken notice.
“Y’know, initially, when you told me I could go to med school, I said yes because I wanted to find a way to cure to your condition.”
“Sammy, that’s so sweet. But I’ve lived like this for ten years now; ten years earlier and I couldn’t have relied on text-to-speech as much as I do nowadays.” She blinked back at me. “And I’m not mad at you for switching majors.”
“Really?”
“Samantha, Howard already had the talk with you, I’m not going to reiterate everything he said.”
“Okay. Sorry. I’m just — Sorry.” I took a deep breath. “So, now that I’m a magical spider person, I think I’ve found a way to cure Retinitis Pigmentosa, at least for you. Maybe two ways. I’m not sure how expensive making a magical sight potion would be for Clem. And regeneration potions are, still, incredibly expensive. I’d need to make like twice what I’ve made so far. Thrice maybe, if the price rises any more. Or maybe I could hire someone who knows healing magic. Those exist, right Addy?”
Addy looked a tad put on the spot. “Self healing is more common, but there are some very rare essences that can give abilities for healing others. Full-on degenerative diseases is… you’re looking at someone with a Tier 2 rare essence, or a Tier 1 Exceptional.”
“Not a lot of people with those?”
“Healers are usually quite busy.”
“I suppose I have to work extra hard then,” I muttered, at which Mom crossed her arms. “Hunt some more mimics.”
“No,” she said adamantly.. “If hunting these things is your ‘job’ now, then I refuse. I don’t want you putting yourself in danger for my sake.”
Too bad Mom, I have already decided to do exactly that. Not that I have much choice. The Ur-mimic is still out there and people are being abducted left and right. I can’t just sit around and not do anything about that. And then there’s Addy and Medusahead and — argh! So much to do, so little time.
Either way, if I lived through all of this then helping Mom get better was definitely on the top of my bucket list. If I could just sit down and muscle my way through the horde of invaders it would almost happen by itself, assuming a constant supply of mimic-shaped sacrifices.
While everyone else was watching reels of mimics being blown up in spectacular fashion, I pulled Tanya to the side, leading her into my room.
“You said you know how to edit videos?” I asked.
“It’s good enough for TikTok.”
“That’ll do.” I slapped some electronics and a scrap of paper I hastily scribbled out some essentials onto right on her lap. “Here. Laptop, passwords, drone footage. Think you can make something out of this, featuring Addy in a good light?”
“Depends. Whaddaya want?”
“I dunno. Something that’ll defend against accusations of… I don’t know, random accusations of incompetence?”
“Girl, there doesn’t exist a reputation that cannot be trashed,” she shot back. “But having a fanbase to defend you helps. Unless they become so obsessed they start actively stalking your enemies… but drama is the lifeblood of infinite content, so I’d call that a win.”
“Some loyal fans wouldn’t hurt her concept of self-worth,” I muttered. “Alright. Make her popular, by tomorrow at the latest.”
Her eyebrows raised all the way up. “Uh-huh. Sure. Let me call the president and tell him to press the ‘I’m popular button’,” Tanya snarked. “It isn’t that easy, Sam. And why by tomorrow?”
“Because if you get it done any later she might explode.”
Tanya paused. “You serious?”
“Dead friggin’ serious.” Mochi said Custodians exploded frequently. My guess? It was probably something to do with the doodads in our brains, the emotional engines fueling magic. Custodian business was stressful business after all. And Addy was not the most stable individual out there.
“Okay.” She breathed in and out. Then she did it again, deeper, this time. “Okay. Okay.”
Yeah, that seems like a reasonable response.
She was pacing, hands running through her matted hair as if it was her life on the line, not mine. Her eyes flicked between me and the laptop. “Fuck, girl. And I’m supposed to, what, save her with the power of likes and retweets?”
“If it takes some worries off of her mind. All you have to do is show the world how cool Custodians are, specifically Custodian Addy.”
“And cut away all the rest. You got it boss,” she said with a shaky laugh before letting herself fall on my beanbag. “Man, your room is so comfy and clean. Can I have it if you, ‘yknow…?”
My glare told her everything I thought about that idea.
“A joke, it was a friggin — your parents won’t kick me out or anything, right?” Her nervous smile betrayed what she thought about her chances.
Looking out for yourself as always, Tanya. Can’t say I blame you.
“I’m not making you staying here conditional on anything,” I said with a sigh. “It’s a convergence event. People are supposed to watch out for each other, even outside of one.”
And in case Medusahead tries something, it can’t hurt to have some ammunition to fire back at her.
“No pressure, huh? ‘Preciate the, uh, chance. To make things up.” She sighed, leaning back for a moment before shooting to her feet. “Alright, got an idea, a good one. I’m pulling out all the stops. Oh, this is going to make numbers.”
Well, at least one of us is confident.
I left her to her devices and went back downstairs again. Addy was having an animated conversation with both of my parents. Apparently she enjoyed fishing as much as they did, though evidently she had a slightly different idea for fishing.
“I use a spear,” she said. “This wide. Very long. Good for catching salmon.”
“Addy, can I talk to you for a sec?”
I led her to a quiet corner.
“Your family is really nice,” she muttered.
“They are, aren’t they?” How to best transition to serious business — what am I thinking, Addy is always ready for serious business. “Addy, I think we need a plan for the mimics.”
“Already got one. I’ve been… thinking.” She gestured and a little system message entered my retina.
[Accept data package?]
It was a series of coordinates which the system immediately mapped to my minimap.
Addy cleared her throat. “The Ur-mimic is a problem. It isn’t particularly strong, but it is frighteningly intelligent. It is nearly impossible to pin down and worse, it can change the mimics around it on touch.”
“As in, create new mimic types?”
“Make adjustments, to Body, Mind, Sense, Soul. One mimic is pretty dumb. A hundred mimics are a threat. A thousand mimics led by an ur-mimic is basically an army with an experienced commander. I could take it, if it tried to fight me, but it won’t. I don’t have the build to catch and finish it off. While we’re running after it, people could get hurt, will get hurt.”
Which is why you were so focused on evacuation.
Behind that face of ice there is a heart of gold after all.
She sighed, looking out the window. A gleam of sunlight reflected off of the translucent dome. “So, I won’t chase it, not anymore. These are the locations where we’re most likely to find the nests, survivors, or both.”
I paused. “How long have you been chasing this one?”
“I think it’s been two years since it killed my mentor and crippled my best friend,” she said and oh boy.
I think I found the reason Addy was so stressed.
“That’s… a big thing to be letting go.” I said, patting her on the back while bracing myself for the counterblow. I could feel a ‘but’ the size of Wisconsin hanging in the air.
Any moment now.
Nothing came. Addy just looked tired. So, so tired. Sure, fighting for your life all day was terrifying, but nobody talked about the exhaustion, the physical and mental strain it put on you. I wanted this, and yet… in a year or two, was I going to have that same look of hers in my eyes? I was plenty exhausted already and it was barely past noon.
Exhaustion. Yes. After crashing another car, being ambushed for the umpteenth time, having my friend almost abducted and nearly falling to my death… exhaustion. I was definitely just tired.
Absent-mindedly, I noticed Addy creeping into my line of vision, slowly, as if she was worried she was going to startle me.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I groaned, stretching, wincing at the pain in my belly. That was still one big annoying bruise. I ought to get some painkillers for that. “I like the plan. It’s easy to understand.”
She looked a bit proud at my compliment.
I checked the shop. There was that one thing that completely removed any and all pain. That was overkill. I just needed some Ibuprofen, and some more coffee.
After ordering some lighter stuff for a handful of soulcoins, I turned my focus back to Addy.
“So, what now?”
She looked about. The wind from outside was buffeting against the ward, leaving the neighborhood in a lazy flow of calm, as summers ought to be. One of the neighbors was out mowing the lawn for whatever godsforsaken reason.
“You have it nice here,” she finally said. “I don’t just mean the area. It’s… I don’t know what it is. But when I’m here, with you, being a human doesn’t feel so bad.”
Awww, how nice. “I don’t know how long this will last.”
Because I genuinely can’t tell whether you’re doing alright, or whether you’re about to blow.
“We can try to make it last longer,” she countered. Then she broke out into a smile. “I hear your home town has a mimic problem. Let’s go fix it.”
Her grin was so wide and sincere that I couldn’t help but smile in return.
“You just want to flex your new shapeshifter-form,” I said and in return, she flexed her biceps.
“Heck yeah I do! I’m tall, but flexible. This is exactly what I need if I get pinned by another huntsman.”
The memories of the past few days flooded into me. Four days of darkness, of unwilling, jerky, unnatural movement. The more I tried to remember, the fuzzier the memory got, until there was nothing but a single emotion:
Fear. Fear. Fear.
Addy looked so happy. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her how temporary this all might well be. Maybe once I was out of this fight-or-flight nightmare I would look back and make the rational choice not to continue being a Custodian. Maybe I’d go back to theatre school. Maybe I’d prove to be that much of a coward, one willing to leave Addy behind.
But the stageplay instincts were taking over, and even though I thought all that and more, none of it rose to the surface of my face.
Smile, Sam, smile even as you walk towards certain doom and destruction.
The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
I stood up. “Alright. Let’s go kick some mimic butt. But first…”
Lily thought she was being sneaky, but I could hear her breathing through the closed door. I opened it and picked her up, tickling a river of giggles and eeps out of her.
“You rascal!” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“To tell you something important — eeee, don’t tickle me! Mom and Dad are lying to you!” she wheezed out in between bouts of laughter.
“Lying?” I stopped, out of concern that there was something wrong. Something I hadn’t noticed.
“Yes! It’s a big conspiracy. They said we saw the CATS musical, but I know it’s a LIE. I don’t remember going there, nope. But they went in secret without me, even though they know I love CATS. They even took pictures!”
Addy and I stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter.
“You left the forgetfulness potion unattended, didn’t you.”
“I wasn’t sure if I could just pour it down the sink or if that would contaminate the entire town’s water supply!" I countered.
We both broke out into giggles, all in front of a thoroughly confused Lily. I patted her scruffy hair.
“There there, I promise I’ll take you there myself one day.”
“Not one day, soon!”
“Alright, soon.”
“Tomorrow!”
“Maybe not that soon.” I sighed. Lily was impossible when she got like this. Luckily, there was a quick remedy. “Want to see a magic trick?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
I reached into my backpack, disappearing head first past my chest into it. The inside was awfully dark, smelling of stone and wood and nature.
“That you, Foggy?”
“Mo.”
“Sorry Moe. Ah-hah! There she is.”
With a surge, I burst forth, carrying the one and only Foggy, reborn, rejuvenated, and incredibly high off of catnip. Because in a mimic apocalypse, that was the only way I could guarantee that the girl wouldn’t prance off on a hunt again.
“Foggy!” Lily cried, grabbing the cat and holding her close to her heart. “Mom said you ran away. I thought you were dead. I-I…”
Tears pearled down her cheeks. I gave my sister a hug.
“We can all go and see the cats musical together, that much I promise. Tell me the time, and I’ll be there. So tell Dad and Mom not to worry about me so much.”
“Uh-huh,” Lily sniffled.
“Meorp,” Foggy said drunkenly.
I carried her down the stairs, plonking her down right next to Mom and Dad.
“Alright, was fun catching up, but I gotta go do some more Custodian stuff.”
“But you just got here,” Lily said.
“And you haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Mom said.
Dad especially looked like he didn’t want me to go. “It’s dangerous out there, isn’t it?”
“Life is short and full of risks, you gotta take some of them,” I shot back, stuffing my backpack with chocolate chip cookies, granola bars, and all sorts of high-calorie foods.
“Your words,” Mom said and Dad clicked his tongue. “She’ll be fine. Isn’t that right, Samantha?”
“Sure, and if things get really bad I got an extra life to use.”
“What?”
“Excuse me?”
“Love you, seriously, but work calls!” I zipped out the front door before poking my head back in, slightly embarrassed. “Er, but if someone could let us back into the barrier around eight or nine PM, that would be really nice.”
+++
The plan was simple, if not easy: Addy was going to sniff out the mimic nests. However, Creektin was currently full of mimics, making finding any single one difficult. Practically, that meant that we had to check out any above-average concentration of mimics just to be certain we hadn’t missed any one. And I, as the inexperienced, wee two-days-old magical girl, needed training. There was a world in which we could do both at the same time.
In that world, Addy tossed me right in front of the mimics and let me sort them out.
“Behind.”
“Front-left, slightly above.”
“Nine-o’clock.”
“Bearing 240.”
“Use consistent measurements, damn you!” I yelled, half at her, half at the mimics.
After a full four hours of running, gunning, and shooting things, I leveled up twice. I put the extra points into Body, since the run in ‘run and gun’ was exhausting, and shaking like a twig didn’t help my aim in the slightest.
The soulcoin haul was quite something.
[Soulcoins: 397]
So far, so productive. All was going well, except for one minor speedbump.
It was a literal speedbump. A speedbump that turned into a giant mimic. That mimic was now trying to kill me.
It looked like a giant Moose, except instead of a head it had tens of spine-tipped tentacles, and instead of moose legs, eight bristly insect legs ferried it across the ground at a frightening speed. Those were starting to become a theme among mimics, the tentacles and spiky bits both. Honestly, it was a little uninspired. Where were the mimics made entirely of scales, rock-like shells, or razor blades?
As I thought that, a tentacle that had morphed into a flatter, wider shape whipped through the air, cutting my illusory double from head to toe. That bought me barely enough time to duck as the same cleaver-shaped limb jerked out of the ground and embedded itself into the streetlight right next to me.
I wheeled back, trying and failing to fully stay out of its range. It had eight legs to my two after all.
“Summon: bazooka,” I yelled, the weapon falling into my hands, ready to unleash destruction.
I fired.
The dang moose batted the rocket propelled projectile out of the air, exploding a tree in the background.
“WILL YOU CRITTERS STOP DOING THAT!” These rocket propelled grenades weren’t cheap, dammit. I was going to need to get me some proximity fuses. Maybe a fragmentation sleeve.
Maybe I just needed to shoot better.
The mimic didn’t stop, instead lowering its head for a charge. That was my sign to run the heck away. The thing was fast in a straight line. The mane of head-tentacles could extend and retract much like those of the tumbleweed mimics. Pointedly, they were keeping me out of optimal range of my babygirl Spab-4, eating up any pellets that did hit.
My right shoulder was long past aching; I could feel my heartbeat in it, pumping frantically as I let rip my last shot before running into the safety of an alley to reload.
I’d need more Body if I wanted to use this big gun regularly, especially on the single-shot setting. That, or some sort of recoil-dampening add-on. Strong negative effects were apparently the tradeoff for these semi-magical tools of war.
“Mo.”
“I know, I know, I’m not dipping the barrel into puddles on purpose, the thing is so just dang heavy.” I finished reloading and racked a shell with a ca-thunk. Another shot blasted off four more tentacles. Damn if this baby didn’t sound like it was made for hunting T-rexes though.
After making it run into a storefront, I wheeled around, gunning it down an alleyway for another thirty-odd feet before taking cover behind a solid metal dumpster. I kicked the dumpster, just to make sure it wasn’t a mimic. Addy would be proud.
“My weapon is loaded with Mooseshot. This is a moose mimic. I should have the type-advantage,” I muttered when I heard a heavy thump.
I peered over the edge of the dumpster. The Moose mimic was stuck at the entrance of the alley, tendrils flailing about uselessly. It must’ve charged after me and gotten stuck.
I grinned and lined up my shot. Stupid mimic.
The twenty-odd tendrils suddenly fused, morphing into a single barbed spear. The spear shot forward in the blink of an eye, extra mass stretching well-past fifty feet. It reached me easily. The tip bore into my carapace right where my heart was.
Shi—
It tossed me back another ten or so feet, tip digging, boring into my armor as if it was a rhino trying to run me through. Two of my arms had caught it reflexively, shedding skin and blood as the mimic turned its smooth skin into knives.
The mimic let out a mix between a moose’s call of victory followed by a warbling burp of surprise before being split down the middle.
[You have assisted in killing: 750kg Elite Tentacle-faced Moose mimic. Soulcoins: +40]
[Congratulations! You have reached level 20]
[+1 Body, +2 Sense, +2 Mind, +1 Soul, +1 Free Stat Points, +1 Essence Slots]
Black blood splattered everywhere, everywhere except where Addy was standing.
“Took you long enough,” I coughed as she jogged up to me. “You carved it up. Starting from the butt.”
“I’m sorry, I thought you had that, and there was a second one, are you hurt, are—”
“I’m alright. It got stuck on the armor.” I failed to pull its drill-tendril out completely. The fibers of my wire-mesh armor had twisted in around it, the flexible surface suddenly becoming rigid upon impact. “Emphasis on stuck. I’m just going to… lie here for a bit.”
“Let me help,” Addy said, nervously cutting away at it and my armor until it released its deathgrip. Most of my mesh armor had to be cut away, leaving me with a big hole in my armor’s chest.
I was just glad to be free. “Man, you really butchered that thing.”
“Yeah. Butchered.” Her eyes were on my armor rather than the mimic. That was definitely not joy in her voice.
“Help me find a new one?” I asked.
She did. Snuggled side-by-side in an alley, we fiddled with the system to get it to share my screen with hers. Something about mental privacy and all that. But the silly thing relented, and luckily, the system shop provideth much succor for a Custodian as well-put-together as I.
Don’t think about how close she is to you, how warm. Don’t think about abs. Don’t think about abs.
Focus. Time to get new armor.
A quick mental search came up with too many chestpieces to count. Most of them were soulbound and automatically changed size, two things magical girls required since transformations were frequent and death a guarantee.
I wanted something flexible but hard, which reduced the options significantly, and then sorting for stuff in my price range gave me downright paltry options. A full on chest plate with interlocking plates was cool, but heavy, which would make my stamina issues worse. A ‘troll leather vest’ enchanted up the wazoo could do anything from self-repair to dispense grapefruit juice, but I had to power every single enchantment myself. That wasn’t an issue for most Custodians, as the vest was marked as a best-seller for levels 10-30, but even after bloating my conversion rate with 23 in Soul I suspected that it wouldn’t be enough.
And then I found it. The shroom armor.
[Sporepuff armor: Hard mycelial armor enchanted for maximum flexibility. On being hit, exudes a smokescreen. Can be recharged using Joy, Sadness, Anger, Fear, Surprise, Disgust, Trust, or Anticipation. Type of emotion used to charge slightly affects smokescreen properties. Price: 350 Soulcoins]
Holy emotional battery, this thing accepted everything. Talk about a universal battery. It was pricey too, but you couldn’t put a price on survival.
[Soulcoins: 437->87]
Satisfied with my purchase, I grabbed Addy’s hand. I nearly doubled over when with one quick yank she pulled me to my feet. Addy shot me a worried glance, but I waved her off.
“It’s always the stomach. Ow.”
“You’re feeling it through the painkillers,” she noted dryly.
“Pain’s an emotion too, right?” I quipped.
“No?” She looked at me quizzically. “Pain is a synaptic response. It is one level below a full emotion.”
“Well dang.” There goes my plan of getting pain-fueled power armor. Not that I was in constant pain, nor that I’d want to turn into the kind of person who used it to fuel my magic. Maybe someone with depression could pilot a sadness-based power armor. Y’know, assuming it was the feeling-sad-all-the-time type of depression, and not the hollow and empty, nothing-feels-like-anything type. Did the system differentiate between the two? I’d have to ask Abyssl. It was the expert on sadness.
“You’re thinking something silly again,” Addy said.
“I’m not,” I countered defensively. “I just… do you think Custodians with anger issues could fuel a magical mech that runs on anger?”
She blinked at me. Then she sighed, long, deep, disappointed like a grade school teacher that just had to hear that two plus two equaled three.
“Why would you ever want a mech?” she asked.
“Because it’s cool?”
“Yes, obviously. But how do you stay angry while piloting a cool mech from the inside?”
“You could make the user interface extremely frustrating to use.”
“Except then it becomes less efficient.”
“I think I could do it, if it used some other emotion.”
“I think that if you get offered the chance to become a test pilot in an experimental mech, you shouldn’t take it. Every famous crafter has tried to make a mech once, and every time they’ve failed horribly. And magical girls don’t have mechs. Why would you need a giant walking tank when you have magic?”
“Because I’m bad at magic. I could fit bigger guns on a mech.”
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
“I know you’re wrong, I just can’t find the right words to convince you yet.”
I grinned and gave her a big hug. “Awww, you’ll warm up to the idea of mechs soon enough. Can’t be too long until we actually get those, right? We’ve got self-driving cars, drone swarms, smart-dumb AI assistants —
“I refuse to engage with this conversation any further,” she said, right as my new piece of armor arrived. “Oh look, a convenient distraction.”
“Hey, no fair, I—” She practically pushed the thing into my face.
“Put it on. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“Pretty hard given our chosen vocation,” I grumbled back, snuggling the piece on.
It was a mottled green chestplate with a solid carapace that nonetheless felt flexible. A thickened plate of more rigid material ran along the center of my back, providing support and protection for my spine. Little holes covered the shoulder pads, probably for exuding the smokescreen. It felt loose around my waist for a few seconds before shrinking in front of my eyes, adhering to my body like a second skin.
“I can’t help but note that despite having a crap-ton of Body, I don’t have any abs yet.” I poked my stomach, and caught Addy staring as I inspected the armor front to back.
“Not everyone has muscles shaped like that. Some get a six pack. Some get eight. Some can’t get any distinct shape.”
“Really now? Awww, and here I thought I was going to get…” I trailed off as my eyes spotted a glimmer at the end of the alleyway. “Hey Addy, the quest said that we killed all the elites in Creektin, no? What are the chances the system miscounted?”
Addy snorted before squinting in the same direction I was looking. “Zero. It’s a machine, it doesn’t fail at math.”
“Unless someone inputs the wrong variables.”
She’d already picked up what I was looking at. Quickly, we made our way to the moose’s corpse. A glittering gem sat in its decaying chest, mocking us with its presence and providing an uncomfortable truth.
[Tentacle-faced spider-moose essence]
It was an essence.
We both looked at each other.
“This was created after the quest was over,” Addy said with absolute certainty. “It came from a nest. A huge nest.”
“Oh come ooon,” I groaned. “Any chance it’s just like… one or two tiny, itty-bitty nests?”
“It’s big. It needs to be to make Elite mimics.”
I groaned. One more thing to add to the pile-of-things-that-gives-me-anxiety. “Do you think it was made with this convergence event or was it already here before that?”
Addy leaned her head left to right, affecting uncertainty. “Hard to say. The system should’ve picked up on something this important by now. The fact that it hasn’t given us a quest yet means it doesn’t have enough information to be certain.”
“That means?”
“That means we continue following the trail of crumbs until it comes to a final verdict, usually in the form of a quest,” she said. “At least mimic nests can’t run away.”
We stood there, staring at the single essence. This was, to put it bluntly, a bit of a pickle. Once again, it felt like I was dipping my toes in something way out of my league.
I turned to Addy. “So, do you want a, uh, tentacle-faced spider-moose essence?”
She snorted. “Not really, no. I’m looking for something with mobility. Dashes, teleportation, the works.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” I paused. “Do you think it’d be a good fit for my build? Since, y’know, it has spider in the name and all that.”
Addy just gave me a slow blinking look. “Depends entirely on what you’re going for.”
“Jack of all trades. Focus on adaptability. A gun or four for every occasion.” I said it with such conviction that it almost sounded like I knew what I was doing. “Unless, y’know, you think that’s not… realistic?”
She mulled it over. “Sounds like a soulcoin-heavy build. Not as expensive as talismans or potions, but it’s up there.”
“But it’s less reliant on magic.” And that was the crux of it. I was a magical girl, but comparatively? I was always going to be the least magical of them all. “I’m always going to be years behind on training. I won’t catch up any time soon, or at all. It’s not like you’re going to stop improving now. But I have four arms and I’m gonna use them as effectively as I can. Thus, guns.”
“Guns.”
“Guns! I need Body for that. Some Sense and Mind too. But mostly Body, since I’ll be running instead of flying.”
“Ok,” Addy said. “So. Let’s see what the essence does then.”
[Tentacle-faced spider-moose essence]
Tier 1
Rarity: Rare
Growth: +3 Body
Choice: [1] out of [1] Abilities
We both stared at the essence, then at each other.
“That’s a rare,” I noted dryly.
“You goddamn lucky—” Addy bit her lip. “One moment.”
Addy did some quick market research on it. I tried to do some myself, but she was just more experienced in using the system shop interface, and in navigating THE META.
“Alright,” Addy said after a few minutes. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”
“The good news is that it’s rare?” I hedged.
Addy nodded.
“Is… is that all?” I asked uncertainly.
The way her lips pursed, she was about to hit me with a many-layered whammy of bad news. “It might be better if you see for yourself.”
She sent me a link. I opened it to find three unsold tentacle-faced moose essences, and a series of chats debating the virtues and vices of it below.
+++
MeeMoo: <
JujuMojo: <
Sing-song-nam: <>
ProwlingQuietly: <
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <<+3 body!? the worst stat!? roflmao, what a joke>>
A_Moose: <
A_Moose: <<*swonk>>
A_Moose: <
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <
Xxcoolersippah22xX: <
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <
ProwlingQuietly: <
129934124411: <
ProwlingQuietly: <
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <>
Xxcoolersippah22xX: <
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <
XXcoolersippah22xX: <
[1 messages deleted by automoderator]
ProwlingQuietly: <
[2 messages deleted by automoderator]
ProwlingQuietly: <
[7 messages deleted by automoderator]
Xxcoolsippah22xX: <
BananaHannahegao: <
+++
“Well. That was… something.” Turns out the internet remained the same, whether on your desktop, phone, or in your brain. “Say, where can I see the ability they’re referring to?”
“There should be a—”
“Found it! Now lets see…”
[Elasticity] - Anticipation
Charge: Channel
Cost: Variable
Channel to slightly alter the elasticity of parts of your body permanently. Maximum strength of the alteration scales off of Body. Does not require a chant.
“Huh. I don’t see the problem.”
Addy hummed, summoning a sandwich out of nowhere to chomp on. My stomach grumbled. After a longing stare at her lunch, she offered me a different sandwich. It was untoasted bread, dry turkey, and some greens.
Note to self: get Addy acquainted with a sandwichmaker. Or the concept of sauces.
Addy ate the rest of her sandwich in two bites. “It’s not an ability with in-combat application. You have to buff yourself beforehand. It specifies that it only increases your elasticity slightly. Frankly, I’m not sure it would be helpful immediately.”
“Point taken. Counterpoint: It’s a lot of Body, and I don’t want to sit around with two open essence slots during a convergence event.”
“It’s your build,” Addy noted and my eyebrows rose. “Your essence too.”
“You killed the dang thing,” I countered. “I only baited it.”
“You got stabbed.”
“It barely drew blood.”
We stared each other down. Someone was going to look away first, and it wasn’t going to be me.
Immediately, something twitched in the corner of my rear pair of eyes. I turned around and shot the damn thing with my Toothphick, missing by inches. The grey blur squeaked and scampered away.
A rat. It was a rat.
I turned, rosy-cheeked with embarrassment. “I’ll eat the essence.”
Addy stared, then gave me a curt nod. You couldn’t always have everything you wanted. That was doubly true when the lives of so many were on the line. The last comment claimed you needed a medical degree to figure this out. I had… half a medical degree.
Oh well. At least it’s not face-tentacles.
I placed the essence on the tip of my tongue and closed my mouth, swashing it around. It dissolved like sherbet powder, tasting like boreal forests, like the hoot of an owl, like the prairie and the woods. The aftertaste was minty. I have no clue why it was minty.
A sense of freshness ran through my body as I more than tripled my current Body stat. Old aches dimmed and the pain in my stomach nearly disappeared. I lifted my shirt, seeing that the bruise had gone from a dark red purple to yellow, with only a handful of darker splotches. What more, there was a strength winding through every cell of my body, a certainty of power and purpose.
“This. Is. Amazing!” I said.
“Try the ability?”
“I… almost don’t want to,” I said. “I haven’t channeled anticipation before. What if I miscast and screw it up because I’m anticipating that I’ll fail?”
“Then you’re creating a self-fulfilling prophecy by mixing fear and anticipation beforehand. Don’t think of whether something that may or may not happen might make you feel happy or sad. But if you’re going to miscast, joy is closer to anticipation than fear. It should have less of a negative impact.”
[Channeling: Joy, Fear, Anticipation]
“Nnngh.” Easier said than done.
I closed my channel and opened my stat sheet.
Samantha Rubens
[Lvl 20] - Transformation Locked
Body: 96
Sense: 40
Mind: 41
Soul: 23
Free points: 0
Silver Soulcoins: 87
Average emotion-crystal-core efficiency: 33% (Expand List)
Essences (4/5): Coral Huntsman, Coral Leaper, Lesser Ur-Mimic, Tentacle-faced Spider-Moose
Passives: [More Arms]
Spells: [Arms & Arms proficiency - Joy], [More Spider Eyes - Fear], [Illusory double - Fear], [Elasticity - Anticipation]
Augments: —
I had a lot of body. Now, it was time to see if I had the skill to do something with it. But first… time for some experiments.