ROD - Chapter 117

Chapter One-Hundred-Seventeen – Acolyte – Part One

Number six may be compromised. The new hero candidate has gone missing with two other confirmed heroes, Starman and Vella. Enact Project Tartarus on New York, that should flush the new candidate out.

- The Ninth Circle classified internal memorandum -

“Fuck her!” Starman yells, “That bitch farted on my pillow!”

Jennifer turns from me and looks at Carl, “Please… don’t make my life worse.”

Carl gives Clayton another look.

“If you trust me, trust him,” Clayton says with a resolute nod.

Carl frowns and steps forward, fiddling with the small vial, “Sorry, dear, open up.”

“Please…” she says with tears streaming down her face, “Why are you punishing me? What have I done?”

Carl’s hand isn’t steady as he brings it forward. Jennifer’s tone, the way the tears roll from her frantically wide eyes. She’s really good at this.

“Jennifer, how did you know that Fisban was debuffed?” I ask dryly.

She blinks, tears roll and she sniffles, “You said she was.”

“No, I didn’t mention that part.”

She blinks again, “Well why else would she be in the hospital still? I assumed she must be debuffed. Otherwise… she would have been healed, right?”

“I don’t think he said she was in the hospital,” Clayton says, folding his arms.

“Where else do you send people in critical condition?” she exclaims with wide eyes, “It’s not rocket science…”

Carl shifts, squinting at her. His hand becomes more steady as he brings it to her mouth.

“I told you that bitch is a Marauder!” Starman howls, his eyes bulging, “Kill her and spare me… please spare me.”

Jennifer moves her face to the side as far as she can, Carl grabs her chin and tries to open her mouth, she bites down hard on his finger.

“Witch!” he howls as his finger spurts blood, “She bit off my fucking finger!”

Moving forward, I place my hand on Jennifer’s jaw, activating healing skill, I pulse her nerves to force the jaw to open before I pull his finger out.

“Kill the Marauder bitch!” Starman yells.

“Relax, Carl, he can put it back on,” Clayton says.

“I don’t want no damn false magic healing in my bones,” Carl growls, nursing the nub of his finger.

“Relax,” Clayton grumbles, holding his hand out and nodding to me.

Taking the brandy from the fireplace mantle, I douse Carl’s mangled and chewed finger in a stream of it to clean it.

“Hey now, that’s good stuff!” Carl moans, pointing with his nub at the bottle.

Clayton holds his arm still as Tina soothes him, I put the stubs together and channel the healing skill. I notice something different almost immediately as my own will pulses into Carl. His body is full of mana, organized in bundles that seem to flow around his body.

Most people have pathways… but this is like highways through the body. Maybe this is what a natural mage looks like… no, Clayton didn’t have nearly this much, it must mean he’s an Archmage or something like that. Some kind of elite spellcaster, which also…

“Are you going to fucking heal me or not?” Carl curses, trying to tug his arm, “I told you they wiggle around in there doing god knows what!”

My will threads and bands of it entangle around the finger and the stump, forcing tissue to die and sleeve off before fresh cells form and latch together. Bone entwines like a fibrous plant sinking springs first roots.

“Holy hell,” Carl says, looking at it as the skin seals after, “Can’t even tell she bit me.” He looks me over then points to his leg, “Don’t reckon you can fix the werewolf stuff?”

“I don’t know… not sure how it even works,” I admit. I’m somewhat in a daze still from the skill and what I felt. Mage bodies are not normal. Like they’ve adapted somehow… I wonder if I could reshape… reshape. Thoughts buzz on the edge of my mind as I think of what Carl said about healing.

What can healing actually do? In theory its usually used to speed up recovery, but we can overstimulate nerves and do other gimmicks if needed. We can reduce pain by blocking signals. We can regrow as things ought to be, so long as we understand it.

But… what if you didn’t regrow something as it was meant to be? What if… what if you changed it? Healing is not always perfect, especially with burns, yet skin forms… what else can healing do? Is there a hidden layer to it like Sage once hinted?

Suddenly my thoughts become even more muddled as I get a deep black popup box.

[ Abyssal Triage Evolution – 50% Completed ]

Okay… it must be epic right? Why else would it have taken so long to evolve? What the fuck is it even going to be able to do? And how much will the usage cost? There’s always a million questions.

Letting out a sigh before turning to Starman and Vella, I ask them, “Before your dose wears off, let me confirm some things.” My eyes narrow at both, “Are you really Champions who hold the Respec On Death skill?”

“Yes,” Starman says with a quivering lip.

“I am,” Vella says, a small scowl on her face.

“How many respec tokens do you have?”

“Thirteen,” Starman says.

Thirteen… that’s crazy.

“Four,” Vella snarls. I think her dose is wearing off faster than his.

“Are you going to betray me?”

“First opportunity I get,” Starman admits, then looking around, “Please don’t kill me.”

I turn to Vella.

“Depends… If our goals align, no, if they don’t, yes.”

After a series of questions from Clayton and myself, I find myself mostly satisfied with the answers. Pretty sure Vella’s Veritas wore off… she looks extremely pissed off.

“I’d like a change of clothes and a shower, but only after…” Vella begins.

“After what?” Clayton asks.

“After you remove these fucking chains you sick bastards. I’ve already told you I’m a hero, not a fucking Marauder, I even answered all your stupid questions… yet for some reason…” she growls, looking up at me with all the fury in hell, “I’m sitting in my shit in a ripped-up dress and… and… fucking hell, please just fix this.”

Tricky decision. We have an idea of what her goals are, but we don’t know which of ours would cause her to betray us. Besides, if I was her, I’d want revenge. Same time, I’d work with me. Revenge can wait.

Still… she won’t be much of an ally if I treat her like this.

I nod to Clayton.

“You sure, godslayer?”

“She’s not our enemy.”

“Alright…” he sighs, then looking at her, “I’m trusting that you won’t hold this against us.”

Vella smiles, “Oh I will. But I want a shower more than I want to grind your balls to mince. Besides, I’m excited to see that bitch shit her pants.”

“Fuck you,” Jennifer seethes, there are no more tears that run down her face.

“Shouldn’t be too long,” Carl says looking at his strange watch.

Clayton reluctantly releases Vella’s bindings. His hands are not far from his blades, and Carl’s shotgun is slung over his arm again.

Tina comes to Vella’s shoulder as she stands with a strained expression, “Come on, dear, follow me to the shower, I’ve already laid some clothes out for you too.”

Not a good way to start a cooperative partnership… oh well. At least I know she’s not a complete piece of shit. Him though.

Starman raises his cuffs in the air with a tsk sound. Clayton just blinks at him.

“Aren’t you going to release me?”

“Hell no.”

Starman looks around the room, and not a single soul comes to his defense. Some of the things he said about pushing people in wheelchairs down stairs and… yeah. Not sure we can use him for anything except gate fodder. He has thirteen lives after all.

Was I always this callous?

I push the thought away.

“It’s not too late to stop this,” Jennifer says, her face is noticeably twitching.

“Oh, I think we’re past that point, dear,” Carl says eyeing his watch again, “Any minute.”

My mind shifts its focus back to Abyss as we wait. When I recall items from Abyss, they don’t get reabsorbed anymore. Which doesn’t make sense since Abyss used to always recall them. In fact, I think it was more like Abyss would replicate them. I look over at the candlestick that fell out earlier when Vella attacked. It’s still there where I left it.

Mythren must have built a space around Abyss, or done something strange to route the items. Which means… did he ever succeed in neutering it? I wonder if that means my other items are still in there. If they are, are they restricted? Or maybe they were automatically turned into scrap essence.

If my theory is right and Mythren failed, there must be a way to upgrade and create items still. Ulana only really spoke during the proceeding when Sera attempted to touch me directly, and when Mythren spoke about Abyss. Meaning Abyss is still part of her plan somehow. I wonder if that’s why Mythren wants access to my Nexus.

Whatever I do, and however I investigate it, it needs to be done discretely, otherwise they might do an audit like he said. That could result in Earth’s destruction.

Goddamnit the stakes are always so fucking high.

I need that last resort nuclear option though in case a god tries to fuck with Earth.

“You’re all so fucked…” Jennifer says, there’s a change in the tone of her voice, like it’s dipped in malice. “They’re going to kill all of you… stupid fucking morons.” Manic laughter grips her for a moment, “They’re…” she grimaces, biting her lip, “They’re coming…” she bites down hard, blood wells from her lips as her tongue splits, she moans but she bites again and again.

My hand grasps her shoulder, the pulse of healing ripples into her, shocking her nervous system.

“She’s mental,” Carl says, shaking his head at her, “Absolutely batshit.”

The words become a blur as I staunch the bleeding. She’s swallowed the chunks of her tongue. My will threads further, travelling into her stomach and forcing her to hurl. She tries to suck it into her lungs, but I manage to close them by mimicking anaphylaxis. Everything I’m doing is the opposite of what we normally would do… it feels strange.

I force her jaw open and put the tongue back together. She’s thrashing wildly until I pulse her nervous system, knocking her out. My mana is nearly bone dry when I finish forcing adrenaline from her adrenal glands to reduce the anaphylaxis. Her eyes spring back open at the sudden jolt and she arches her back and screams loudly.

“We’re going to need to rethink this strategy,” I pant, sweat rolling from my brow, it’s hard to maintain the pulse to her mouth so she doesn’t chomp her tongue again.

“I think I’ve got just the thing,” Carl says, moving to a bookcase and shifting a dozen books.  

From it he pulls a strange mask that looks more like a torture device.

“Old witch mask, bought it from a travelling bard on planet Carana. Should prevent her from biting her tongue or trying to swallow it, or incanting hexes and… you get the point.”

He slides it over her face and a hundred brilliant glyphs all light up at once. The tools slide and shimmy around her tongue and into her mouth, moving and grabbing her eyelids to hold them open.

“Go ahead,” Carl says, folding his arms, “Try it again.”

She does and then she flinches like she’s been shocked.

“Can’t bite it can you?” he smirks, then leaning closer, “I bet your name isn’t Jennifer, is it?”

“No…”

“How’d you know?” Clayton asks.

“Never met a bad Jennifer until her.”

Curiosity grips me as I ask, “And how many have you known well?”

“Eh, just one really.” Carl pokes Jennifer, “What’s your real name anyway?”

“Karen…”

“You don’t say…” Carl says with a raised eyebrow as he lights his pipe.