GSA 9&10

Chapter 9: Air Force

***1 Day 16 hours remaining***

“How is this safe!?” Jessica demanded as they floated over the vast forest.

“All falling or crashing injuries are dependent on inertia. Since you can bring yours to effectively zero, this is perfectly safe for you.”

“Are you saying we’re gonna crash!?”

Jeb shrugged as the forest rolled by beneath them.

He wasn’t flying so much as picking himself and Jessica up like duffel bags and carrying them along.

But to the average person, it would look a lot like flying.

Tomato, tomahto.

Jeb’s telekinetic lift clocked in at about two tons, and his cruising speed was somewhere between sixty and one hundred and twenty miles an hour if he really pushed himself. His limits were expanding rapidly to catch up with the growth of his Core and his Myst tolerance, and he still didn’t feel like he’d caught up.

Well, I have been pushing Myst hard. I should be able to do at least this much.

They were going as fast as a car, but they didn’t have the proper wind-shielding for it, forcing Jeb to squint against the wind as they passed over the Stealth-raptors, giving the ambush predators the finger.

Why on earth should he fight fair against these things?

From this height, Jeb could see where Ron’s army had cut a path through the forest, the hundreds of deadites stomping a relatively clean trail through the brush, aiming for the mountains. It didn’t seem like the necromancer had spent much time in the forest, so there was a possibility there was still some pickings left.

“Definitely looks like Ron came through here,” Jeb said, fishing through his pockets for his aerial bombs.

His aerial bombs were set to trigger the moment the rock the Myst was bound to touched the ground.

They even had little homemade fins to make sure the right side of the rock hit the ground. Otherwise, the explosion might be directed underground.

Taking the first one out of his pocket, Jeb couldn’t help but think of his middle school egg-drop project, designed to spin a rotor and ease its fall.

It almost worked.

Jeb gave the rock an encouraging little smooch and dropped it into the forest. This was the most excitement the rock had seen in a million years, so it was onboard, too.

The stone plummeted down into the forest, and all hell broke loose.

There was a thunderous crash as the trees in the surrounding area – for a good fifty feet in every direction – were severed in half and toppled over.

The behavior of the Myst attached to the rock was that it would go up about three feet –the finned side of the rock – then expand a razor thin line of telekinetic force in every direction.

If it was taller than three feet and standing on the ground, it was dead meat.

The forest burst into activity trees shaking and howls of pain and anger rising up.

It looks like Ron didn’t fully clear the place out.

“All right, let’s do some bombing runs,” Jeb said, pushing Jessica away from him until they were a hundred feet apart, so the radius of their explosives just barely grinded against each other.

I think I need to get laid.

Together, they flew over the Forest of Scary Stealth Dinosaurs, unloading their heavy bags full of rocks and turning it into The Forest of Bloody Mulch.

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

Congratulations! You have beaten the Phantom Raptor, Gresh, in a one-on-one duel.

Whoops, did I just accidentally a boss?

Your Mastery of Stealth is beyond reproach!

Sure it is, buddy. I’m so good at it, I didn’t even realize I killed him.

Gresh’s Subtlety Accolade Granted!

+3 Body +3 Nerve

Ding!

Your party has cleared the Forest of Gnashing Teeth! Please take your rewards.

“It looks like Ron must have killed the boss on the way through,” Jessica said as he brought her closer. “I guess we’re just going to have to roam out further to find…”

Jeb couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding off of her face.

“You killed the boss, didn’t you?” she asked, scowling.

“I didn’t even know it was there!” Jeb protested. “His mastery of stealth was beyond reproach!”

“I get the loot.”

Jeb’s inner haggler howled in outrage, but she had him dead-to-rights on that one. Better to take the loss now than let resentment build up. “Fine.”

Jebediah Trapper

Mystic Trapsmith, Level 28

Body 16

Myst 56 +2

Nerve 21 +3

Abilities: Mystic Trigger

Finger-gun clips: ‘ack’ X10 þ ‘pip’x10 þ ‘kip’ X10 þ  ‘Alpha Strike’ ☠

Full auto: ‘Juggernaut’þ ‘Mark of Cain’þ

Cane Auto: x4  BP þ HR þ BD þ OD þ

Cane Manual: x2  ‘just getting started’þ ‘alt blinks’þ

Shield: x4 þ

Armor: head þ torso þ legs þ upper arms þ lower arms þ

Projectile reflection x50 þ

Safety Phrases: restraints ‘3W’ þ ‘Scarabs’ þ ‘Plitskin’ þ ‘no homo’ þ ‘Room full of Charlies’☠

Grenades ‘go boom’: ‘nut’ þ ‘rock’ þ ‘knife’ þ ‘authorize magical girl transformation’☠

Aeriel Bomb: x10 þ

***1 day, 15 hours remaining***

“Oh look, there’s Ron,” Jessica said, pointing out a pinprick in the far distance surrounded by a swarm of shambling pinpricks making their way up the side of the bald mountain.

He could barely make it out. Was it Body or Nerve that boosted her eyesight. Maybe both? Body to make her eyes muy bueno, and Nerve to interpret the data? No wait, I’ve seen a Youtube video on this. There’s literally a limit on how much detail you can perceive based on the size of your eye and how much light wavelengths expand over distance…or something like that.

So are her eyes magic now, or just tippy top of what a human can do? Or like so many other things, is it a moot, nitpicky point?

These were the thoughts that occupied Jeb’s mind as they tracked down Ron’s army of the dead.

Jeb was relieved to see the vast majority of the man’s shambling zombies were non-human as he came in for a touchdown at a reasonable distance from the necromancer.

Ron must have seen him coming, because he cleared a spot for Jeb to land.

Standing right beside Ron’s rough palanquin was a hulking skeletal brute in heavy armor, wielding a giant axe and overflowing with black energy. Ron’s personal bodyguard.

Formerly Redbeard.

“Flight?” Ron asked, shaking his head. “Oh man, I’m jealous.”

“More like carrying myself,” Jeb said with a shrug.

Ron rolled his eyes.

“It’s flight,” He and Jess said at the same time, glancing at each other with a moment of startlement.

“So, what’s up, man?” Ron asked, crossing his arms.

“Got my class, thought I’d stop by and trade. I also wanted to hear what you know about the people to the northeast.

“That camp of fifty or so people?” Ron scoffed. “I got out of there. It was getting too political for me.”

“They’re not big fans of me reusing dead people, even though…” He rapped his knuckles on the Death-knight’s armor. “High level humans are definitely worth recycling. They just can’t get over the idea of someone using their corpse. I mean, come on, they’re already dead, what do they care? I’m not using their damn soul or anything.”

“They’re not…” Jeb wiggled his fingers. “Evil, or anything though?”

“Naw.”

“Well, they’re going to try to raid the World Tortoise tomorrow,” Jeb said. “A line of disposable pawns would save a lot of lives.” Jeb glanced at the army surrounding them.

If Ron signed on to the Tortoise Raid, Jeb might be interested in giving it a shot, since the man’s army would make an excellent safety buffer.

On the battlefield, the speed at which things could turn to absolute shit would spin your fucking head, but if they had Ron’s undead to give them time, save stamina and realize they were losing…it could give them time to realize they were screwed and sound a retreat.

“Nooope,” Ron said, waving his hand. “I know how this works. If I join up, they’re gonna burn through my army without so much as a ‘thank you’ and leave me back at square one.”

“I’m not exactly combat effective in one-on-one battle, you know.” He said, pointing a thumb at himself.

“You could negotiate for them to give you monster corpses.”

“How do I enforce it without my army?” Ron asked, scowling, his demeanor becoming more agitated.

“All right,” Jeb said, putting his hands up. “What if I paid you in advance with the army of dead monsters you’ll be expected to use?”

“Well, that’s a different story.” Ron said, relaxing. “You’d have to sweeten the pot a bit since I don’t get to keep them. Raising the dead isn’t free or easy.”

He tapped his fingers on his elbow.

“I want a fire Lens from the mountain of fire,” He said, pointing toward the distant volcano. “And three stat potions. Preferably Body, but I can’t be picky.”

“How about two potions and a tool for self-defense?” Jeb asked. “You mentioned not being combat effective.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Jeb fetched a sturdy stick from further down the mountain, binding a shotgun of telekinetic blades to the tip of it with Mystic Trigger.

“Can I use one of your zombies as a demonstration?”

“Knock yourself out.” Ron said with a shrug, a nearly shredded dino zombie limping to the front of the pack.

“Here, Jeb said, holding the stick out. “If you say the words ‘Turnip factory’, buckshot will blast out this end.”

Ron’s brows raised.

His death knight stepped forward and took the stick out of Jeb’s hands, the necromancer seemingly unwilling to handle the object himself.

“Pardon my caution,” Ron said

“Understandable,” Jeb said as the death knight raised the stick and pointed it at the mostly destroyed zombie.

“Turnip Factory.”

SSSHHH-

The zombie dino exploded into chunks.

“You can just make those whenever you want?” Ron demanded. “Hax!”

“Says the guy riding a palanquin.”

Ron sat back in his chair and clicked his tongue. “Walking was getting tiresome…Alright, I’ll drop one of the potions in exchange for four shots on that shotgun wand.”

“Jessica, are you okay with giving up a couple potions?”

“In exchange for the next four bosses.” She said with a shrug.

“Four!?” Jeb demanded.

“There’s the one you already owe me, “ She said, ticking them off with her fingers. “The one I would have got anyway if we were splitting them fifty-fifty, and the next one to actually make up for my lost share of the potions, the fourth one to see some kind of benefit from the deal. I think that’s a pretty good offer, all things considered, since under normal circumstances, I would have gotten the fourth one as part of the split anyway.”

“You already traded the boss I owed you for all the loot that time around.”

“The loot sucked!”

“Not really my fault, is it?”

Jessica turned red and scowled at him, her freckles standing out on her cheeks.

“Alright, I’ll give you the next four, but after that it’s me then you.” She wasn’t wrong about number two and four belonging to her anyway. Jeb just put some pressure on her so she felt like she’d gotten a good deal.

Turns out humans are much better negotiators than fairies.

“Fine.” He turned back to Ron. “You got a deal. I’ll meet you there with your stuff and see about getting you an army.”

“Alright.” Ron nodded. “Did you still want to trade?”

“I figure I’ll have more when I meet you there,” Jeb said, waving as he and Jessica rose up into the air.

A moment later he had a thought and dipped down, just as Ron was turning to leave.

“Do you care if your monster corpses are dismembered?”

“I can patch ‘em back together, but it takes a lot less Myst if they’re relatively whole,” Ron said.

“Got it.” Jeb turned and rejoined Jessica in the sky before the two of them headed off to the west, aiming at the volcano while Ron turned towards the northeast.

***1 day 8 hours remaining***

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

Acting as the support was a whole different ballgame. Jeb had to make sure he didn’t directly interact with the bosses as they came across them, instead doing crowd control from above for Jessica. The assassin flickered around them, making pinpoint turns at speeds that upset his stomach to watch, each turn accompanied by a spray of blood.

At the top of the mountain was a giant goat with phenomenal horns surrounded by hordes of smaller ones. Jessica had a little trouble when the big one’s horns unfurled and began whipping around like tentacles while firing beams of energy, but she eventually found an opening to inflict a major wound on the creature’s neck.

After that she danced around the creature a good ten minutes until it ran out of steam, then ended its life with a quick slash.

Beyond that, the rocky mountains turned…flame-y. All the scraggly brush that supported the hardy goats was burned away by the jets of fire erupting from the earth. Rock monsters reminiscent of the one he’d seen on Galaxy Quest seemed to be the creature of choice.

Some of them were tougher with an obsidian sheen and flames spurting out of their joints, and those ones were just as liable to toss a fireball as try and squish the puny humans to paste.

Jessica switched weapons to a heavy mace and used it to crack apart the monster’s stony exterior, forcing them to bleed magma.

The boss was a ten foot monstrosity with heavy obsidian armor and powerful flame magic. Jeb thought he might have to step in several times, but Jessica was able to chip the creature’s armor away by the skin of her teeth before driving Razorback into its weak core with a powerful thrust.

The Golem sank to the ground, collapsing onto its face.

When she drew the weapon back, it was missing the last third of its blade, ending in a glowing white stub.

Aw man…

Seeing the first treasure he’d ever found get destroyed sent a little pang of remorse through his heart, but he knew it couldn’t have lasted forever.

They spent most of their time scanning the mountain, searching the flamy-est bits for fire lenses.

After they found one in the largest geyser on the mountain, they decided it would be worth their time to check a lot of them.

There was only a lens in one out of every six or so geysers, but being able to fly around the mountain, they were able to spot and identify several dozen flame geysers, netting them a healthy profit of flame lenses.

All the lenses looked and felt like some variation of coal with a gentle flame rolling off of it. Jeb had to point out the pieces he suspected were lenses just so he didn’t grab an actual piece of coal.

In the end their haul was such:

5 flame lenses, ranging from large to small, looked like regular lumps of coal.

1 Large Geysering flame lens the size of a fist, with the appearance of compact bituminous coal.

1 Small Pure Flame lens, about the size of a golf-ball, but lumpy and oblong, with the jagged, glassy appearance of anthracite coal.

1 Noxious Flame Lens, sized between the first two, with the appearance of Lignite streaked with a pale impurity.

Raw Flame Lens (Vars.)

The common flame lens is used from applications from cooking in homes to fireballs created by the most powerful wizards. The utility of creating fire on demand will always be highly sought after in every sector, making these lenses somewhat valuable, despite their relatively common status among Lenses.

Raw Geysering Flame Lens (large)

Geysering Flame lenses have an element of high pressure in their nature that causes the created flames to manifest more violently, at a higher energetic state than a normal flame lens might. This increase in volatility makes this a dangerous choice for home use, although they are highly sought after for military and industrial applications.

Raw Pure Flame Lens (Small)

Coveted by craftsmen across Pharos, the Pure Flame Lens creates a beautiful blue flame that achieves the highest temperatures with the lowest amount of contaminants. Rarely found in nature, this lens is of tremendous value to those who work with metal for a living.

Raw Noxious Flame Lens (Normal)

Tinged by a metallic impurity, the Noxious Flame Lens creates flames accompanied by toxic fumes that can disable or kill those exposed to it. Unsuitable for use in home or industry, Noxious Flame Lenses occasionally see use in warfare; however, their use is a violation of the Sacarus Accord.

Hmmm…. Got some good goods, Jeb thought, eyeing the lenses. He was tempted to hide the pure flame lens from Ron when he came back, but he’d only agreed to give the man one, and Jeb didn’t think the necromancer would choose the small lens over the more explosive large one, or even the noxious lens, giving his undead creature’s presumed immunity to toxins.

If the necromancer did take the small, high quality one, that simply meant Jeb would walk away with the geyser lens, which would presumably make an excellent weapon – on the military scale – with a little sanding, shaping and polishing to focus its beam on a single target rather than exploding in his hand.

I don’t think I have time to do that…

The loot they got from clearing off the volcanic range netted them two more Potions, –  Body and Myst – along with a gold Ring of Body, a magical shield, a Feathersteel chain shirt, a Weighted Greataxe, Anklets of Retraced Steps, and a Stein of Bottomless Beer.

Jeb took the Feathersteel chain shirt and the ring, switching out his Myst Ring for it. Jessica picked out the Anklets of Retraced steps and Weighted Greataxe.

After a few hours of heated debate, they agreed to shared custody of the Stein of Bottomless Beer.

The shield was added to the Barter pile, along with a couple of Jeb’s regular fire lenses.

One of Jessica’s accolades gave her +5 to Myst, so once she got past the horrifying headache and alarming nosebleed, Jeb taught her how to draw in Myst, with the intention of forming a core.

He told her to imagine her most ideal magic, something she thought was incredibly cool, and build an image around it.

“Why do I have to think it’s cool?” she asked, still dabbing blood out of her clothes.

“Because it works better if you think it’s cool.”

“Maybe you know in your head,” Jeb said, tapping his skull. “That creating plants is a handy, self-sustaining power, and a rational choice to take…but if you don’t feel it, well, it’s probably not going to work.”

“Is that how Ron got his power?” She asked.

“Pretty much. Ron was probably one of those nerds that played nothing but necromancer on Diablo.”

Jessica spent a couple hours concentrating, but failed to manifest a core.

It took me days, and I had way more Myst than her, so I’m not surprised. But if she’s able to manifest a core of any kind, even if they’re little tricks, it’ll add more options to her toolbox.

Once she decided to take a break from trying to form a core, they packed up and headed Northeast, sailing above the forest at eighty miles an hour.

After the wind problem reared its head, Jeb had been able to solve it by extending a section of the field that supported him into something of a windshield, baffling the rush of air and making it possible to see where they were going at speeds faster than sixty MPH.

It only took about an hour to fly the two of them from the top of the volcano to the other safe-zone, then they walked the rest of the way to the safe zone with the smoke of a dozen campfires rising above it.

Didn’t want to advertise what he could do just yet.

***1 day 3 hours remaining until Safe Zones expire***

Chapter 10: Colorful Characters

The situation at the safe zone could only be described as ‘tense’. Some thirty men and women stood at the edge of the safe zone, forming a human wall that denied Ron access to what appeared to almost be a little cobbled together village.

Their weapons weren’t drawn, but a few hands were heading that way.

“We never arranged for any kind of deal with you. None of us feel safe around your walking corpses, so beat it.”

“Oh, you don’t feel safe!?” Ron asked, eyebrows raising in mock astonishment. “So you turn away an honest offer of help. Tell me, what other decisions are you making based on how you feel?”

“Honest offer? You want two stat potions in exchange for maybe helping us? The way I see it, you’re just as likely to –“

“Wait up!” Jeb cried, clomping forward on his cane as fast as he could, pushing through the army of shambling corpses before the guy could say the wrong thing and piss off the best source of disposable troops they had.

“Who are you?” the man in front asked, glancing at Jeb.

“I’m the one that offered to pay Ron to help the raid. I thought you could use the extra bodies.”

Ron snorted.

The man’s eyes narrowed, leveling a flaming spear at Jeb. “Now listen here -

“Eddie! Wha’s goin on out there?” came a reedy voice deeper into the safe zone.

“Shit,” Eddie cursed under his breath.

“Is tha’ Ron!?” the people clustered at the front hastily stood aside revealing a toothless Cajun, maybe into his fifties. The man’s chin protruded, his lips drawn in from lack of teeth.

He was thin, scrappy, and looked like the kind of guy with a million stories about squirrels.

“Yeah, Freeman, it’s Ron.” Eddie said, moving aside.

The toothless Cajun was also apparently their strongest fighter and leader. Not exactly what Jeb was expecting.

It takes all types, I guess.

“Ron! You ‘ere to ‘elp!?”

“I am,” Ron said, glancing at Jeb. “This guy here bribed me to come back. The deal is, any monster you bring me from now until until the raid, I’ll raise and send it along with you.”

“A’ knew yer a good kid!” Freeman said, drawing Ron into a great big hug. “E’en do dose zombos ‘r scary, he’s Just a boy listenin’ to too much ‘rockmusack,’ tryn’a look ‘cool’, ‘dat’s what a’ told ‘em.”

Jeb could barely understand what Freeman was saying.

“T-Thanks, I guess,” Ron said, patting Freeman on the back.

“C’min, c’min!” Freeman said, motioning for Ron to enter the save-zone. “Jus’ leave de zombos ‘ere, ey?”

“An’ you two?” Freeman asked, approaching into their personal space and smiling disarmingly at them.

Leader by charisma, I suppose, Jeb thought, soaking in the man’s overwhelming energy.

“Jessica, and Jeb,” Jessica said, pointing between them. “We met David yesterday.”

“Oh, you two! Good ta’ meetcha!” Freeman said, shaking their hands enthusiastically. “You’n yer boyfriend c’n sleep here t’night free if y’like. Only got one day left on the lease, after all, hah! But if you want som’n else, you’re gonna haft’a get it yourself or trade for it.”

“He’s not – Whatever.”

Freeman chuckled and patted Jeb on the shoulder before heading back into the safe zone, the group of freshly battle-hardened warriors melting out of his way.

Jeb shrugged and followed behind, ignoring the surrounding warriors as the camp spread out in front of them.

Damn. It had only been thirteen days, but the place almost looked like a little village, with two dozen hastily constructed houses with stretched leather roofs to keep out the rain.

There were about six campfires, and each of them had a thick knot of people sitting around it, sending the newcomers curious glances as they walked in.

Of particular note was the man and woman who looked like they’d been ripped right off the front of a fitness magazine sitting beside a huge pile of loot. Directly behind them was a huge sign written in charcoal that read:

Fuck my Wife: 1 Stat potion O.B.O.

Jeb felt his eyebrows climb his forehead. It made sense logically, but the way they just went for it was astounding.

Jessica followed his gaze and froze for an instant before she snorted. “You think that’s why David was so desperate to get his hands on the stat potion?”

“Why would anybody take that offer?” Jeb asked aloud. It was a stupid decision, because a stat potion was forever, directly aided a person’s ability to survive, was likely incredibly rare and valuable, while getting laid was… much less vital.

He asked, but he already knew the answer.

Because people who think they’re gonna die make stupid decisions to feel better.

In the end, one thing was clear: These were the people to trade with.

Jeb met up with Ron and handed off the potions and lens. As he’d predicted, Ron took the geysering lens. The necromancer had considered the poisonous one for a moment until Jeb pointed out that while his zombies were immune, Ron himself still needed to breathe, and he couldn’t actually see the poison. He threw in a normal lens as a goodwill gift.

Once he was done with Ron, Jeb’s feet – foot – steered him towards the little stall run by the couple.

“Hey there, haven’t seen you around before.” The woman said with a brilliant smile. These people look like they belong on a toothpaste commercial.

“Hi, I’m Jeb,” Jeb said, offering his hand, shaking the man’s hand.

“Brett.” The man said.

“Amanda.” The woman gave her name, shaking his hand as well.

“You guys the healer/soldier couple I heard about?” Jeb asked.

“That we are.”

“I heard you two do gear repair and trading?”

“We sure do.” Jeb was graced with another sparkling smile that nearly made him wince.

Jeb mentally rolled up his sleeves.

Let’s do this.

After a short time perusing their wares and haggling, Jeb was able to get a few of the crafting ingredients he’d been looking for, including a file and saw for his lenses, tweezers and metal springs, along with a couple magic items he hadn’t seen before:

A Mystical water boiler, clothing iron, double sided tape, and wooden clothes pins that floated, holding the object in question aloft without the need for a string.

They weren’t particularly sought after, so Jeb was able to trade some of the chaff from the volcano for them, chatting with the couple all the while.

As it turned out, they were, in essence, mercantile slutty health nuts that had been tanning their cheeks at Hedonism when the end of the world happened.

They hadn’t been in the same place at the time, but they’d both correctly assumed the other had taken the most extreme option.

Jess swung by partway and had Razorback fixed.

The Soldier simply took the item and winced as his entire body was covered with what appeared to be a sunburn.

Amanda simply reached out and tapped his shoulder. Jeb spotted a spark of silvery Myst transfer between them, and the burn went away.

Razorback, in return, regained the last foot of blade that had been melted away in the heart of an obsidian golem, looking as shiny and wicked as the day they’d looted it.

“How does it determine how much ‘damage’ to do to you?” Jeb asked, making air quotes.

“I don’t know,” Brett said, shaking his head, “Just gotta kind of eyeball it. Size and how broken it is seems to contribute, and whether there are missing pieces, like that sword there. It scales inversely with my Body. If I’d tried that when we first got started, I would have gotten more than just a little toasty.”

“I see.” Jeb said, rising to his feet – foot – propping himself up with his cane, his swath of gear dangling off his makeshift belt.

“Would you...like to buy a backpack?” Amanda asked, glancing at him quizzically.

“Yes.” Jeb admitted, the weight of his loot finally making it almost impossible to balance with a pegleg.

Jeb got himself a nice big duffle bag that could fit all of his shit, slung it over his shoulder, and was halfway to an open space, mind buzzing with possibilities, when he was approached by Freeman.

“Ev’nin,” Freeman said, nodding with a toothless grin as he approached “I her’bout de bargain wit’ Ron. Were ye planning on helpin’ wit’ dat? I gotta know whether I gotta dust off the knuckles.”

“Yeah, I was going to help.” Jeb said, thinking of the noxious lens in his duffle bag. He’d already thought of a way it could help with no refining it whatsoever.

Then Freeman did something unexpected.

“Hee!”

He made a high pitched grunt, somewhere between a frustrated groan and a squee. At the exact same time a bubble of Myst expanded outward from him, covering the distance between them in a fraction of a second.

Jeb whipped his hand up, and splayed his hand wide open, reflexively deploying his right-handed ‘shield’.

The oncoming bubble of Myst traveled straight through Jeb’s barrier, and engulfed him before rebounding, imploding back in on itself, sinking back into Freeman’s body.

“Did you just…Ping me?” Jeb asked, frowning.

“God-DAMN, boy, you’s loaded fer bear!” Freeman said, stumbling backward, eyeing Jeb’s ragged appearance with a raised brow. “I was gonna gi’ you tha’ speech ‘bout being careful, but mebbe I should warn the other guys!”

“What was that?” Jeb asked.

“Mah luck.”

“Huh?”

“Mama always said ‘better lucky ‘den smart’. I always been lucky. Jus’ now I figured out how lucky I’d need to be to beat ya in a stand-up fight. Pretty goddamn lucky, was the answer, sho’nuff. Well, lissen, you need help pullin in ‘dem bodies, you let Eddie or David know.”

“’Tween you’n’me, ‘dey both could use sommat constructive to do.” Freeman whispered conspiratorially.

“Will do,” Jeb said, nodding.

Jeb found himself an empty spot on the fringe of the Safe Zone, and dropped his duffle bag, using it as something to lean against as he pulled the Noxious Flame lens out of his pocket.

Time to get to work, he thought, drawing the Myst in.

Mystic Trigger.

He took one of the springs, straightened it out by hand, then bent it around the lens until it was securely bound, then he tied a decent amount of Myst to the wire with the instructions to enter the Lens the moment it became more than ninety-nine feet away from him.

The trigger after that was bound to the activation of the one before, and so on… Gradually, Jeb covered the entire spool of wire with linked activation conditions.

It was tedious, mindless work that reminded him of braiding a rope.

There was no arbitrary limit to the number of triggers Jeb could make, but he did need to stop after each one and draw in Myst, keeping his star burning and expanding. This took only a minute or two, given the light workload.

The only limit was time and patience.

Patience, Jeb had, but time was in short supply.

After he’d linked fifty consecutive triggers to the lens, he stuffed it back in his pocket and pulled out the golf-ball sized lump of Pure Flame Lens.

Let’s see, the flame is either created at the focal point, or where it intersects with a solid. Either? Both?

Jeb pulled out his new file and was about to get to work when he realized a test run would probably serve him better than just going gung-ho on his fanciest lens and possibly destroying its value or incinerating himself.

Jeb pulled the worm lens out of his belt and sawed off the end of the stick, a chunk of rotten wood about the size of the pure flame lens.

Cutting a lens for the first time was interesting. It looked like a rotten stick, but when he cut into it, it didn’t have any kind of grain, and the resistance was uniform. The pieces that came off of the stick as he sawed were a fine dust, almost like he was cutting through chalk.

The ease at which his saw bit through the lens was informative. He’d have to be careful not to let his lenses get dented if they were this soft, but that also meant they would be exceedingly easy to work with.

That explains why they bury them in wands. They’re protective casings.

“Okay, let’s try this,” Jeb muttered, pulling out his file and going to town on the piece of wood, forming it into a rudimentary lens shape in a matter of minutes. Once it was close to being complete, he polished it up with a piece of leather and held it to the light to study.

It wasn’t machine perfect, but given the speed with which he’d created it, it was damn good. Jeb was actually fairly proud of himself. He’d never been particularly ‘crafty’, but the passive bonus from his class stacked on top of his Nerve seemed to compensate for his lack of experience.

“Alright, let’s try this out.”

Jeb held his hand out and pointed the worm lens in front of him, drawing Myst in, burning it, then siphoning it out through his palm, straight into the lens.

Let’s start with just a little bit, he thought, throttling his output way down.

A worm the size of a goddamn boa constrictor appeared in midair and flopped onto the ground in front of him.

It was at least five feet long and as big around as his wrist.

“Holy shit!” Jeb scooted back from the worm, which was wriggling around in confusion. It was so big, Jeb could see its little mouth opening and closing as it searched for the safety of the earth.

It still couldn’t hurt anybody, but who ever heard of an earthworm with a mouth big enough to stick a finger in?

“Okay, so the focus point is where the effect manifests.” Consistent with what he’d seen so far.

Then why did the annihilation lens destroy everything in a sphere? Too much Myst caused some kind of explosion? Maybe Jess saw a cone of destruction and attributed it to a sphere? Well, I’m sure I’ll find out.

Now, how much Myst can a lens this size take? Jeb had cut it about the same size as his pure flame lens for that express purpose. He didn’t want to break the thing, or make it blow up like the annihilation lens, so stress-testing it was a priority.

Jeb got up and walked out into the forest, setting the lens on a tree branch before walking back about fifty feet. Hopefully outside the range of the explosion, but still with decent visibility.

Jeb threaded his Myst across the distance and started making worms, doubling the output every time, until the lens failed.

Somewhere between creating a worm the size of a horse and the next step up, the lens cracked, sending a sensation back to him through his Myst, and to his ears. Instead of creating a worm the size of a city bus, the lens exploded and every surface within thirty feet of the lens was covered in writhing worms.

And that answers that, Jeb thought, paying close attention to the feel of the LSA, or ‘Last Safe Amount’.

Jeb mentally made a note never to go over the LSA with his Pure Flame Lens.

Hell, I probably shouldn’t even get close.

Still, I wonder how much fire a worm the size of a horse converts to? What’s the standard unit of measurement?

There were so many unanswered questions, and no time to answer them.

Jeb glanced up at the sun slowly marching inexorably across the sky. Not enough time at all. He had to shelve the lens experimenting until after the assault on the World Tortoise.

For now, it was time to get Ron his corpses.

Jeb hoped they beat the World Tortoise tomorrow, and everyone got to go home, but he planned for the worst.

He needed safety devices similar to his own that he could use to rescue people on command.

Perhaps an ejector seat? I might be able to swing that.

There were certain people he wanted to survive, no matter how doomed this particular expedition was.

I know, I know, I should be giving a hundred percent. To paraphrase a wise man, ‘planning for failure is worse than regular planning.’

Still I’m going to do everything I can to ensure we have the best possible shot, and failing that, convince them not to do it, and failing that…save the useful ones. Jeb wasn’t young enough to give a hundred percent to anything anymore.

Brett and Amanda were irreplaceable, essential to long-term survival. Ron was a huge boon. Jessica…well, she fought good, but he honestly didn’t know if she was any better or worse than the other fighters out there.

Still, she was a teammate, so he would do what he could to make sure she lived.

Now, the best way to accomplish these goals would be to weaken the Tortoise’s defenses while simultaneously raising our attack power.

With a thought, Jeb hoisted himself up, rising into the sky until he located the World Tortoise on the horizon, meandering around the edge of the forest.

Jeb raised himself up higher.

He could make a mad rush for the creature and try lobbing the noxious stone onto it from the side, fending off thousands of flying monsters in a heroic, suicidal mad dash…

But why?

Jeb flew up, and up, until the world tortoise looked like a regular tortoise, and the air started getting thin.

Then he flew above the creature, hovering directly over it, albeit a couple thousand feet up.

Jeb took his bag full of aerial bombs and turned it inside out, sending them tumbling towards the creature’s shell. He then took the wire-wrapped Noxious Flame Lens out of his pocket and dropped it…

From above. It’s coming down from above.

Jeb’s heart-rate spiked, and he was forced to stop and take deep breaths as the dozen rocks and one fist-sized nugget of coal tumbled away from him.

He was broken out of his intrusive thoughts when the lens went boom.

The instant the lens got ninety-nine feet away from him, the first trigger activated, and Myst began steadily feeding into it, causing it to burst into flames. Huge gouts of pinkish flame and green-tinted smoke began pouring out of it as it fell, the fire reaching nearly thirty feet in every direction, and the poisonous smoke going much further.

Damn! Jeb thought, covering his mouth and flying away from the smoke, not eager to breathe the stuff rising up from beneath.

Jeb flew to the side and down, aiming to put some serious distance between himself and the weapon currently belting out fire and smoke.

The aerial bombs hit the tortoise’s shell with concussive blasts, sending out shockwaves and knocking down large swaths of the trees covering the tortoise’s shell. Jeb even thought he might have seen a piece of shell fly up, but he couldn’t tell for sure.

The parasites flew out of their little hidey holes, looking like undersea worms burrowed in coral. They swam into the air, absolutely furious. Behind them were giant panthers that ran on the air, insects the size of buses, things that almost looked like dragons, as well as dozens of other creatures that ran the gamut from simply gigantified, to downright bizarre.

They crowded the air, darkening the sky around the tortoise like a cloud, and there were still thousands of landbound critters crawling all over the tortoise’s back, looking for something to fight.

A moment later, the burning stone landed on the tortoise’s back, lighting the forest around it on fire with its constant blaze, and poisoning the creatures as they swirled around in alarm. They swiveled their heads, seemingly looking for the cause of their current predicament.

“Hey you sons of bitches!” Jeb shouted at the top of his lungs, waving his hands, flying his whole body in a stomach-churning loop. “Yeah, you! Come and get me assholes!”

That got a reaction. Oh, crap they’re fast! Jeb turned and ran – well, flew – as fast as he could, aiming for the safe zone, a cloud of death following after him.

It was a short but tense race between him and the flying defenders, and if they weren’t poisoned, they probably would have caught him.

You have gained a level!

You have gained a level!

You are now level 32!

Jeb glanced over his shoulder and saw the fire on top of the enormous tortoise spreading, a thick fog of poisonous smoke spreading in every direction.

He also saw a pair of mandibles from a horse-sized dragonfly rapidly gaining on him.

“Pip one,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

The creature effortlessly dodged the invisible bullet, huge eyes glinting in the sun with what Jeb could swear was amusement.

Dragonflies were the apex predator of the dogfighting world, most of their brain was literally devoted to it, and trying to alter his course wasn’t going to do anything. He was right on top of the safe zone, about to get eaten by a bug monster, so Jeb did the only sensible thing:

He dropped his flight entirely.

Concentration freed, Jeb whipped his hand around and caught the creature in a magical fist, crushing its wings against its body an instant before it cut him in half.

He lashed out with his good foot as the creature approached, knocking it up, and sending himself tumbling downward, earth and sky spinning around him at ridiculous speeds.

Jeb hit the ground head-first, a half ton of earth trying to ram itself into every orifice on his face, legs dangling over him like one of those yoga chicks. You know the ones.

Jeb’s pegleg fell off, bonking him on the skull before it rolled a couple feet away.

“ow.”

Jeb’s spine creaked dangerously as he straightened it before he pulled himself out of the man-sized divot in the clearing.

Jeb hauled himself to his knees, rubbing his back as the sun was gradually choked off by the enormous swarm of high-level monsters surrounding the safe zone, buzzing, flapping, growling and generally making a din.

When he looked in front of himself, he saw Eddie staring at him, mouth gaping. The warrior had his hand elbow deep in Jeb’s duffle bag, and a good portion of the contents were strewn around the packed earth of the Safe Zone.

“What, um…what am I looking at, exactly?”

Jebediah Trapper

Mystic Trapsmith, Level 32

Body 16

Myst 58 +2

Nerve 21 +3

Abilities: Mystic Trigger

2 Stat points remaining

Finger-gun clips: ‘ack’ X10 þ ‘pip’x10 þ ‘kip’ X10 þ  ‘Alpha Strike’ ☠

Full auto: ‘Juggernaut’þ ‘Mark of Cain’þ

Cane Auto: x4  BP þ HR þ BD þ OD þ

Cane Manual: x2  ‘just getting started’þ ‘alt blinks’þ

Shield: x4 þ

Armor: head þ torso þ legs þ upper arms þ lower arms þ

Projectile reflection x50 þ

Safety Phrases: restraints ‘3W’ þ ‘Scarabs’ þ ‘Plitskin’ þ ‘no homo’ þ ‘Room full of Charlies’☠

Grenades ‘go boom’: ‘nut’ þ ‘rock’ þ ‘knife’ þ ‘authorize magical girl transformation’☠

Aerial Bomb: x10 ý