Shackled, p.37
Shackled, page 37
A small, handwritten note sat on the ground in front of her. It read “K, when you wake up, do me a favor. Hit me with all the lightning you can manage. I’ll pay you back when I’m done here.”
He spent a few minutes thinking of the right spell to use and ignoring the notifications that poked desperately at his mind, waiting to be acknowledged. Finally, he thought he had a decent idea. He stood, feeling something squish beneath his boots. He ignored the distraction in favor of steeling his mind to cast the spell, took a deep breath, and began.
"Ramm. Rideos. Legeth. Na. Mayk. Mayk. Wor. Halda." The last word echoed from the walls, and Korrash felt most of his mana leave him. Above Hime’s head, a small orb of lightning winked into being. It spun in place, buzzing slightly, and a bolt of blue-white electricity arced from it, striking Hime right on the top of her skull. As he’d expected, the lightning sizzled and was absorbed, pulled into Hime’s center, whatever that was.
His task done, he took a moment to wonder what he’d stepped in. He lifted his foot off the ground, expecting to see a remnant of the powerful slime.
Zap!
A lightning bolt arced out of the floating orb and struck him in the chest. The bolt’s power did not dissipate when it struck him, however, and he felt some of his Health evaporate as the shock traveled through his body and seemed to concentrate in the foot that was still on the ground.
He threw himself backward, putting as much distance as possible between himself and the lightning. He’d wanted to show off, so he’d made the tiny orb permanent, but that meant he hadn’t had enough power to add the vital Life Force or Obedience words to the spell, so the tiny elemental would just spin in place and shock anything that came near rather than being able to follow Hime around.
As he looked down to where he’d been standing, he understood the squish that he’d felt with every step. Where he’d been standing were two slimy outlines of bare feet. The notifications he’d been ignoring pushed themselves into his mind.
Corruption Trait (Minor): Backwards Steps
Effect: When leaving footprints, your trail appears to lead in the opposite direction. While this may be of some benefit in throwing off pursuit, you must beware leaving a trail while others are watching, lest your Infernal allegiance be revealed.
Corruption Trait (Minor): Limocene Lingus
Effect: Your tongue is coated in dark brown spots like a slug. Occasionally, small, eye-like protrusions may be visible.
Corruption Trait (Major): Mucosal Metatarsi
Effect: Wherever you step, your footprints remain as if you were barefoot, and you leave tracks of thick, slick mucus.
Bonus: You move 20% faster while running, despite leaving a trail of slime behind. Provides increases to Equilibrium and Athletics checks used to stay on your feet or maneuver using your slick soles.
Along with the knowledge of his new, disgusting features came more information about the stages of Corruption.
20-29% — Impure. You gain a second cosmetic trait. The increased steps needed to conceal two traits make you more obvious to those trained in the ways of the Inquisition, though you may still be able to explain such traits away as coincidence.
30-39% — Unclean. You may gain a moderate physical trait that is difficult to hide and provides a small bonus to related skills. Ex. Your eyes glow the telltale ocher of Corruption, but allow you to detect Corrupt energy in others. Alternatively, a current minor trait may be upgraded to major, providing significant bonuses or new capabilities. Ex. Your third nipple becomes a snapping mouth, allowing you to feast on all manner of substances, gaining temporary bonuses based on what is consumed while increasing your Corruption.
Okay, gross. Korrash wondered if he’d chosen poorly. He hated slime. He tested the effect, slowly putting weight on one foot and feeling the cool slime ooze out of nowhere, as if he were wearing a sock filled with snot. He felt his gorge rise and quickly stopped the experiments. That’s when he got his first good news.
Based on your abilities, statistics, and other factors, your bond to the High Magus Regalia now qualifies you to adopt a new class: The Ascendant Cursemage! Warning: Adopting this class will render you unable to unlock or adopt the Imperfect Archmagus class.
He selected the class mentally, hoping this would be like last time and he would be allowed to confirm his choice.
Ascendant Cursemage
Requirements:
Possession of a Variable Pact
Race: All
Talent one Tier higher than Willpower
Restrictions:
Must accept a pact from any Devil of higher rank than current highest-ranked Pact Weaver
May not decrease Corruption below 10%
May not use or learn Divine Magic
Must choose a dual Resource: Corruption/Aetherium*
Passive Abilities:
Calculate Aether-derived %RESOURCE% using an improved formula: 50+(Talent*100)(1-Corr%))
Doubles effect of Infernal Pacts that alter magic
May convert Corruption into mana at a 1:33 ratio.
May gain Corruption to gain increased spell effectiveness at a 1:5 (percent) ratio.
Activated class abilities have reduced effect on Pure individuals
Negative effects from Divine spells increased, reduced benefit from positive Divine spells.
Base Aether:%RESOURCE% conversion ratio is 90%
Basic Abilities:
Sinful Strike (5 %RESOURCE% / 2 damage; global cooldown; attack spell)
Imbues melee or natural weapons with an aura of Corruption Energy at time of attack; effect increases armor penetration
Increases Corruption of target
Cursed Shield (50 %RESOURCE%, 5 Corruption; 10 second duration; 60 second cooldown; mental trigger)
Creates a yellow shield around the caster that reduces incoming elemental damage by 50%, provides 33% projectile evasion, and damages melee attackers for (8*TalentTier) damage per strike.
Increases Corruption of melee attackers
Infernal Allegiance (100% Current %RESOURCE%; up to 1 hour duration (based on total %RESOURCE% percent on use); 24-hour cooldown)
Convinces a target that the user is his ally
Effect strength is based on relative Corruption levels
May be used in Pact Negotiation; Devils are considered to have a Corruption score of (Tier*18)
CONFIRM CLASS SELECTION?
Korrash confirmed, ecstatic that he would finally be able to increase his Conviction and get rid of these debuffs.
Please select an Aetherium-derivative Resource.
Dual Resource: Corruption / %RESOURCE%
Aetherium
Mana*
Phlegethos (Mana Derivative)
Lethe (Mana Derivative)
Heartfyre
More…
Korrash sensed that Phlegethos was a type of energy formed when ambient aether (or mana) interacted with high levels of environmental Corruption. It was frighteningly effective for flame-based effects, destruction, and other horrible things, but was hard to distill from uncorrupted aether. It sounded awesome and horrible at the same time.
Lethe was similar. It was the energy of unmaking, memory, and illusion. The possibilities of such power were many, yet he knew he could not count on it when he needed something dead.
You are of insufficient Tier to access additional knowledge of Heartfyre.
Well, now he wanted it even more.
His mind fluttered around Phlegethos for a few more moments. It would undoubtedly give him the power he sought; the flames of the Underworld could boil metal and soul alike. He would be unstoppable.
An unbidden image of Arielle abruptly came to his mind. It was not his friend as he had last seen her, beyond the veil of death and twisted by necromantic power into a caricature of rage, nor was it her at the moment of her death, smiling up at him through the blood bubbling in her throat.
They stood together on the banks of the creek that ran behind the village, no more than ten or eleven summers old. Beah was there, but Alton had not been. It was likely that the reckless youth was serving his punishment for jousting with the scarecrows or whatever it had been that week. The air by the stream was cool, and the sun sparkled on the water. Korrash was holding a stick, waving it toward imaginary enemies.
“You’ll be an Adventurer,” Arielle had said. “You’ll fight monsters and save everyone, but the songs won’t mention how great your battles were. The bards will sing of how kind your heart is, and how you always liked to build more than destroy.”
“I heard a bard sing once,” Beah added from her position beneath a nearby tree. “It was neat, and really catchy. I don’t remember most of the words, though. Just something about danger, or being delicious?”
“You’ll remember his songs,” Arielle had insisted. “Everyone will.”
The memory passed, leaving Korrash’s heart torn between the joy of memory and the pain of all that had come after. He selected mana once more.
Moments later, Hime stirred. He turned to face her, and her eyes opened. She spun away from him, an impressive feat, considering that she did not leave her meditative pose, and her hands seemed to blur as she did something he couldn’t see. She grew still after a few seconds, her shoulders slumping in relief (Insight 2? It’s a success; why am I…?)
“You can turn the lightning off now,” she said, turning her head in a futile attempt to see behind herself.
“Afraid not,” he said, smiling.
“Just do it. We’ve been down here long enough.”
“No, I mean it. I didn’t know how long you’d be, so I made it permanent.”
She sighed.
“Of course you did.” She tensed, then flexed her hips. The movement pushed her body up and forward without disturbing the pose in which she sat. Her awkward mid-air tumble turned into a handspring, and she unfolded her legs as she flipped, landing on her feet with not a hair out of place. To Korrash, the whole thing had seemed to take place in slow motion.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, rendered nearly speechless at the flawless display of Athletics (Mixed Messages 0 failed for sure! That was a bad one!). As he spoke, he saw Hime’s ears turn red.
He shook his head back and forth, feeling like he had water in his ears. His skill notifications seemed off somehow. He felt blind without the gentle whispering of the system in his ear, but the Manual of Instruction’s most central tenet was clear: “Above all else, my Children, remember that the height of wisdom can only be attained after first turning off what vexes you, then turning it back on after ten seconds of reflection.”
(No, don’t do that! Dammit why—)
The notifications grew silent, and something hit him in the head. Hard.
“Ow! What was that for?” He rubbed the spot while glaring at Hime.
“I kept talking, you just weren’t listening. You were muttering to yourself.”
“Sorry. What did you want?” He wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or apologetic.
She pointed to the ground next to his feet. A wooden bokken lay there, so he picked it up. It was a few centimeters longer than his own rapier, but seemed to weigh about the same. He looked at her, wondering why she had thrown a sword at him.
“I promised you a reward for hooking me up with that sweet lightning seishin, didn’t I?”
“This hardly seems like an appropriate reward!” His words were a snarl and he felt his eyes flare green, though he had not intended to respond.
“Whoa, easy there. That piece of wood isn’t a reward, it’s a tool. One I will use to train you. In Blades.”
The anger in his chest withered, and he threw himself to his knees out of pure reflex.
“Sensei!” he shouted. She chuckled at him, pulling her own bokken from nowhere and assuming a fighting stance.
“Yeah, yeah, save it. We’ve been down here a crazy long time, and we need to get moving if we want to take care of this stupid robot invasion. We’re going to train until my next stupid meeting, you’re going to think up a plan while I’m gone, and then we’re heading back to the surface. ”
Korrash actually would have preferred to use the time to work out some sort of enchantment or something. He didn’t have the guts to tell her that.
“Yes, Sensei!” He darted forward, and his bokken left his hand, which suddenly hurt for some reason.
“Again,” she said, a merciless look in her eyes, and he had no choice but to obey.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Joan Mallory's Home
Joan Mallory had been sitting there for hours, just staring at the gun on the table. A Beretta M9, her father had called it. She wondered what he’d think of her plans.
It had been the girl she’d seen in front of their headquarters. The one she’d given the flyer to. She’d called not long ago, confirming what Joan had always known in her heart.
Arthur was alive! They were keeping him isolated, somehow. He never called, never sent a message. He had never been the best at that, but he’d been better than this. She was tired of getting the runaround, and she was tired of their high-priced lawyers and their cease-and-desist orders.
I shouldn’t even have this thing, she thought. Gun reform had started to gain more traction in the early Twenties, and after the Law Enforcement Reform Act of 2023, most firearms were illegal to own without special, expensive permits. Permits she didn’t have.
She just hadn’t been able to part with this relic of her father’s, so she’d hidden it when the search team came through. She never imagined that almost three decades later, she’d be considering using it.
Her wearable buzzed at her, and she glanced at the small screen out of habit. As she read the mail notification, she jumped up and rushed to the dock that waited on the nearby desk, slamming the core down into the slot harder than she probably should have.
The screen took precious seconds to turn on; she’d never seen the need her son seemed to have for all the latest gadgets. She’d had this thing for ten years, and it had been old even then. She didn’t even understand why anyone would need more than a 4K display, anyway. What were they advertising now? Sixteen?
The screen finally revealed the message along with the tiny paperclip that still meant attachment. She smiled as the memory of a young Arthur asking her what it was flitted through her head. Her smile evaporated as she read the subject line.
From: PR1NCE_03_TH4_D1663R@iotserv.oneirosoft.com
To: MOTHER^2 (joan.mallory@infini.mail)
SBJ: F33L 7H3 F34R
SW33T T3RR0R
@L1V3 N 7h3 FL35h
C
U
Soon
The attachment was a grainy JPEG of some sort of laboratory. Here and there, large devices glowed with lights, their round, barrel-like shapes reminding her of submarines. A square glass window set in the machine was the focus of the picture, and Joan could just make out a blurry shape within. It could have been a human.
Then, she saw it. A hand-written sign like one used to find on hospital rooms before teledocs shut so many down.
It read “Subject 029, A.M., Full Dreamland Containment.”
She turned away from the screen, so consumed with anger that she left her wearable in its place.
This was not something she could use a Publicar for; she’d have to take her dad’s old Subaru. She hoped she could find the keys. She hoped it had gasoline. She hoped nothing had broken since the last time she’d fired it up. She hoped for so many things.
She moved toward the door, then stopped.
Once more, her eyes fell on the gun.
Chapter Seventy
Meeting Room 19, Oneirosoft HQ
“Rachel, I don’t think you understand the risk you’re taking. When you reported before that your pain was down, that was one thing, but this little stunt could have set your recovery back by months. That’s if it hasn’t done permanent damage.” Doctor Ben was angry, though he tried to hide it. Rachel wondered if his ability to hide his emotions was why he’d been assigned to her.
“Look, I’m not going to argue with you. The pain is gone, except for what is obviously coming from the screws. I left my braces in the room because I was running late and because I. Don’t. Need. Them.”
Ben sighed, then removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He sighed again.
“If you’re that sure about it, then we need to run a full suite of imaging scans. If we can find evidence that the nerve damage has begun to heal, then maybe we can talk about next steps.”
Rachel was suddenly angry. The man never listened. Still, there wasn’t much use in fighting the system.
“Sure, let’s get it scheduled,” she said.
“We need to do it now,” Ben replied. “I’ll send for a wheelchair and we can go down to medical right —”
“Fuck that,” she spat. “I’ve got shit to do. Sorry to be blunt, but I only came to this meeting to be polite.” She was so done with this. She had other places she needed to be, and this little meeting was on her last nerve. It had been almost physically painful to leave Korrash behind when she knew he needed her help.
Arthur, she reminded herself. She’d left him alone to come here in the first place. Getting yelled at for doing it was the last thing she was going to put up with.
“Well, um, if that’s how you feel…” The doctor was obviously shocked at her uncharacteristic behavior. “Let’s just run through the standard questions and call it a day.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes, instead fiddling with something on his wearable. In the silence, she heard it vibrate once.
“Fine with me. Okay, first. Rate my play experience in general since the last meeting. I’d give it a five.” It was obviously higher than that; she’d never rated Worlds Unbound lower than an eight since she started doing these meetings, and lately it was easily a ten. She lowballed it just to get under the man’s skin, and he knew it.
