Oath of the Survivor

His battle with the beetles – if it could even be called such – was over almost as soon as it had begun.  Kyle knew he had a lot more power available when HASTE was active, but the results were even surprising to him.  Controlling the mana as he used the skill was challenging, and what Kyle wanted to explore was getting used to the skill at its basic level, then pushing for shorter and more intense bursts in critical moments.  The proof of concept was almost immediately established as he pushed more mana into the skill, but the lack of fine control meant his speed increased far more than anticipated.  Fortunately, HASTE enhanced both his Dexterity and Perception, giving him the ability to think more clearly as the world around him slowed to a crawl. 

That meant that the more he pushed his skill, the more he was able to fine-tune and course correct.  Even so, the first beetle was destroyed beyond recognition with his high-acceleration punch, leaving the bones in his right forearm cracked after the impact.  The amplified pain threatened to make him lose control of the skill altogether, but he managed to hold on and reduce the skill back to what Kyle considered baseline activation.

The beetles were unable to keep up with Kyle’s speed under normal circumstances, much less when he was under the effects of HASTE.  Their limited intelligence prevented them from realizing this, however, and Kyle was given three more opportunities to test the limits of his mana control.  This resulted in three more destroyed beetles and substantial self-inflicted damage.  Overall, Kyle was satisfied with the initial results.  Several hours of allowing REGENERATION

to do its work alongside focused use of the HEAL skill under C.H.A.D.D.’s direction, and Kyle’s condition had improved from “major damage” to “lightly bruised.” 

He had to marvel at the new capabilities of his body – as he had no illusions that a skill like this with his normal body would have been nothing more than a death sentence if used beyond its baseline.  Instead, however, he found himself with an ability that he could use as a real trump card if things got dicey.  What he didn’t find himself with, unfortunately, was a large stockpile of beetle meat.  The destroyed creatures left very little that he could salvage, and he knew it wouldn’t last him long.

Kyle absently rubbed his sore knuckles as they broke the line of trees and saw the clearing surrounding Albaum. In many ways it reminded Kyle of his time spent in Newton – it was a small agrarian town without a lot of the major amenities like Cathwick, but it had a quaintness and character that was hard to find in the larger cities.  It was laid out in the typical utilitarian grid style that was common within the Central Authority, but the lack of terraforming resources meant that some accommodations had to be made for nature, with the some of the streets curling around rivers and hills instead of having the landscape flattened to make city development easier. 

Kyle honestly preferred it this way.  He and C.H.A.D.D. were walking down the abandoned streets systematically, with the drone scanning for signs of life and Kyle looking for a place to establish a base camp.  While they weren’t able to find any other survivors, Kyle was thrilled to find enough supplies to start a small fire.  Unfortunately the time spent battling the beetles meant they couldn’t finish sweeping the city, so Kyle found a small house with a hole in the roof to settle in.  He started a fire, placed some of his recently acquired meat, and leaned back to watch the stars.

Looking up at the sky, his mind drifted back to his grandfather, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Clark’s days during the first awakening would have compared.  The histories he learned as a child taught that the high-minded Originators brought order out of the chaos, but barely touched on the violence and uncertainty that took place in the interim. 

The lingering damage from Clark’s old injuries made Kyle appreciate all the more the cost of the peace they had enjoyed, and while he knew it was presumptuous to compare himself to his grandfather, the sense of connection was stronger than ever.  When they would go camping in Kyle’s youth, Clark would always get a faraway look in his eye as he looked up at the stars.  Kyle never could tell if he was looking back on fond memories or regrets, but in this moment he felt like he understood it. 

Hours passed as he watched the slow, steady rotation of the stars.  In stressful moments he had his medical training to rely on – and he was grateful for that.  The response to adversity had been drilled into him, though medical triage didn’t do much to account for hopes and dreams.  Society at large had an endless road of challenges in front of it to get back to normal – and the rational part of Kyle wanted to work on tackling those issues. 

The core tenets of the Central Authority were always to put the needs of the collective ahead of the wants of the individual.  Kyle tried to reconcile those principles with the complete rejection by Councilman DeRosa, and he had to confront the reality that the will of the collective was for him to be gone.  As frightening as that prospect was, it also forced Kyle to answer some hard questions.  What drove him to accomplish the things he’d done since losing his grandfather? 

He hadn’t pushed as hard as he had because he wanted to be a cog in a machine.  He hadn’t been thinking about the collective good when he was training to avoid being eaten by mutant beetles.  He’d done those things because he wanted to – and if he was real with himself – because he wanted to live up to Clark’s legacy however he could. 

There was still pain and guilt there, and as the stars moved past he realized what a part of him had been feeling over these last months.  He thought Clark had made a mistake sacrificing himself to save Kyle. 

At the end of the world, a D Grade powerhouse of a warrior would have been much more valuable to society than a weak E Grade doctor.   And despite that, Clark chose to save him anyway.  As he thought about that, he felt a piece lock into place.  His survival wasn’t a utilitarian bet on the future, nor was it a decision his grandfather made with the collective in mind. 

He had made a singular, purely selfish decision, which was at the same time entirely selfless.  He hadn’t been saved because of his abilities, competencies, or anything else.  He had been saved because his grandfather loved him.  That was it – no expectations, no grand plan that he was expected to accomplish – just knowing his grandson would survive at least a little longer was enough.  A smile broke out on his face as a warm feeling spread through him, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

 

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