Shaper of Metal Post-Apoc Progression LitRPG

Highfive finally dropped his energy sheath while still wearing a big grin. "Not too often I get to impress someone of adult age with that. The kiddo cadets love it."

"I bet," Jack replied. "Your handle certainly works perfectly for your powers, by the way."

"I'm highly proud of it."

Jack winced. "Let's not go back down the road of puns so soon. We might not ever make it back."

"Yeah, you're right. Too dangerous. So, what about you? Your powers."

"Material Controller — Metal. Primary Mutation — Channel Memorite. Shaper of Metal."

Highfive's eyebrows rose. "Daaamn. That shit is broad! Must have major long-term potential. Probably sacrifices short-term raw power? I don't know what the hell that mutation is."

"Yeah, that probably sounds about right. The mutation's main advantage so far seems to be that it eliminates distance penalties to Memoria for me, and reduces it for others in contact with or near a 'dose' of the memorite."

Highfive's eyebrows rose even higher. "Whaaat!? No way!"

"Yes way. Apparently, it's pretty rare. I've seen some indications that there is a significant reduction of agent effectiveness…"

Highfive laughed, running a hand over his face, generally taken aback. "Dude, you're too new to understand the improvement, aren't you? Okay, even for Questors, on the Frontier, you're scaling down from two-thirds of your total effectiveness through Memoria, to twenty-five percent when you cross the border. We suck out there. Fortunately, our foes have even more trouble not sucking on our continent. But we suck even more the further away we get. A percent every one- no, wait. Uh. Every two hundred kilometers. Yeah. Thankfully, we keep Toughness and Hardiness anywhere on Earth. Anyway, you're four times more effective, at the least!"

Jack nodded slowly as he tried to absorb the ramifications. "Only if I'm greedy. The improvement is eighty percent for others touching the metal."

Highfive laughed again in amazement, leaning backward slightly and briefly touching both hands to his head. "Brooo! You are the god of away missions! You can boost your whole team high total multiples, and you're still a Material Controller doing your own thing? What the hell?!" He gestured with his hands out emphatically at Jack. "This is exciting! I'm getting excited, dude."

Jack shifted a bit uncomfortably. "Yeah, I can tell. Simmer it down a smidge."

Highfive barked a hysterical laugh and shook his head.

A sudden, vague shout in the distance made them look, but it was two people unseen conversing jovially, beyond the immediate trees of the park. Highfive frowned thoughtfully suddenly as he looked around, then regarded Jack. "Yo, you might wanna be careful about spreading that around. Mother must be doing a social experiment, not telling you to keep it to yourself. Maybe she wants you to become Mr. Popular. But then, you have to ask if you do. Right?"

Jack blew air out of his mouth and shook his head emphatically. "No, I don't have to ask. I flat out don't want it. Trying to focus on me right now." He was suddenly glad he'd not shared the distance thing with Augur despite the boy's occasional prodding into how his powers worked. That had been specifically due to Memoria telling him to work it out himself, and his suspicions of it being the 'thing.' A literal interpretation, but she liked her tests, after all.

Highfive nodded. "I'll keep it to myself. Though I hate that sort of thing. Because if I don't tell anyone shit, you might tell someone else, and then they spill the beans, but then the big, dumb jock gets the blame."

"No need to jump to conclusions so quickly. How about you give me your word and we'll shake on it? Then I'll know you wouldn't, even if I do tell someone else, which isn't a given."

"You've got to, eventually. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable. But sure." He shrugged and walked over to hold out his hand. "You have my word, I won't share about your special mutation unless you give permission."

Jack shook his hand. "Alright, then." After they released, Jack glanced around and added, "I'd show my powers too, but I'm not even at full power for level 1 yet, so it isn't that great. Not to mention doing fraggin' metal stuff isn't exactly a rare sight."

Highfive chuckled. "Dude, I don't care, I wanna see! But raincheck on that, actually, I gotta run."

"Yeah, I better get going, too. It was good meeting you, Highfive."

"Likewise. And call me Fiver."

"Maybe I'll stick to Blondy."

Highfive shrugged with a winning grin. "Whatever works, Old Man! Later!" He took off jogging immediately down the path. After a moment of this, he turned around and jogged backward, pointing a finger back. "Yo, keep workin' on the bod, bro! You're getting there! I wanna see Jack" — he made a fist — "get jacked!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "That's my trainer's line!"

"Mike Tower?"

"How did you know?"

"Only he would say something that awesome! Anyway, talk again! I'll text! Later!" He turned back around and jogged away.

Wait, did he mean 'run' as in literally run? Pfft! Wouldn't surprise me. With that zero body fat physique, he probably trains endlessly. Maybe not the greatest idea for a soldier if we were mainline humans, but we Nons don't particularly need body fat.

Jack shrugged it off and started back to the exit of the park. It was time to eat and do power exercises. It had been an interesting day, perhaps like most lately, but scoring a fraggin' touchdown on Nons was kind of its own weird, special highlight in his various accomplishments since joining the strange fraternity. And it was just… a good time. He was beginning to realize he'd been missing those types of friendships in his life before.

It just wasn't the same out of the service. The perpetual march forward with parallel volunteers at your shoulders, like priests of a nebulous pantheon of future glories. The unspoken pride to face the enemy endlessly committed to your annihilation. There weren't any 2-year boys or girls out on the frontier with Brother Death lurking at an unknown heading. Weren't any 'put mine in and done' pilots aside from the remote control variety. Only priests made it through SERE and all the other grueling shit a priest considered an internal holy honor. And when you were out, you were out: priesthood revoked. It wasn't a choice of the priests, but of the gods. Fate.

A civvy, a 'platform warmer' as some got excessively derogatory — and inaccurate — enough to call them, couldn't provide the offerings necessary. He didn't see his fellows all that much because they were 'out there,' and the divide was a chasm that couldn't be bridged.

I'm here with a bunch of new fellows now, but only for a season. 'We,' whoever that's going to be with me, will be out there. All too soon, so long as I earn my coat. I have to. Orders, but it's more than that. Out there… is exactly where I have always belonged.

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Back in his quarters, Jack scarfed down an entire baked chicken and perhaps another 'baked chicken's worth' of side dishes, before delving into his power exercises. He sat down in his old work chair, called forth the memorite, and began levitating the aluminum ball that was his homework. He went through the laborious process of attempting to turn it back into the original sheets, as if slicing thin layers of a tomato. It didn't work well like that, and was quickly fatiguing, so he scrapped the tactic. He shifted to taking a tiny amount out of the glob and then flattening it more and more.

Bingo! Every push/squeeze/roll of the material flattened it, as if he were working with dough. He was able to get it down to a thin sheet and then started working on another piece, but larger, and keeping it as rectangular in shape as he could. He connected what he had together as if melting and fusing the edges — easy peasy — and then began rolling it up around a broom handle. It wasn't perfect, being a bit thicker than typical foil, but not bad.

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With the proof of concept completed, but the tedious, minute act being generally mentally exhausting, he switched over to the other thing Lindsay wanted before he wasted too much energy and focus. He channeled his raw memorite out, forming the cloud, and then spun it quickly into a liquid sphere. He utilized Solidify from here, more or less like flipping a switch, changing the connection point of his interface with it. The sphere turned into a wobbly bubble.

He smoothed it back into a sphere around the size of a basketball. It was almost gooey in consistency, like metal dough. He compressed inward and outward, and could already feel how much better he was at it thanks to his base Control improving. Very quickly and easily, he reduced the size and had the thicker clay consistency he'd achieved before, as his best.

So he pushed harder. Pressure. Pressing the inner and outer inward, compacting the many little connection points little by little, section by section, curve by curve. Every effort, he was smushing some material out of the way around the indentation, but he knew he was achieving gains by the sense of a thinner, harder 'thumbprint' of sorts where he compressed it.

He squeezed and compressed in quick, intense pulses, on and on, in repetition, while sweating profusely from the effort and accruing fatigue. Not so bad as it once was — Mini's little warnings were much wider-spaced than before. Moreover, each compression got almost imperceptibly easier and used less energy. He knew because after dozens of compressions, it was perceptible.

The 'clay' was slowly and inexorably hardened, molded by the work of his power. It wasn't pretty, just yet. The prior smoothness was gone, and it turned dirty-looking, lumpy, and malformed. He gradually worked on bringing it all to a more even state.

By the time he was teetering on getting into Serious fatigue, he had it at a reasonable average. He shifted his control more 'macro' and began focusing on smoothing it and evening it out with 'sweeps' of pressure, forcing it back into a smooth sphere. He polished the outside enough to reflect…

And then he had it: a solid sphere of memorite fit into the palm of his hand, like a big egg of sorts, but wholly solid. Through will and effort, he'd established a needed baseline for how to do it, what it felt like to have it in the first place.

It felt unnatural, really. Like it was meant to be broken apart, like sand crammed and stoppered in a twisty straw. Or frozen mercury. It was not ideal, and he felt like it never would be. But it could save his life one day, and he'd need to train to make it functional in whatever pinch he might find himself needing it in.

To test what he learned, he pulled a portion of it out, making a big hole, and turning the reduced material back to dust. From here, he did a miniature process of making it liquid first, and then clay-like. He levitated it into the hole and reshaped it like a patch. He pressed it as before, again and again, cramming the material back into shape. Smoothing it.

He managed it within a few minutes. Faster? Oh yes.

Mini chimed again. <Fatigue Status at Serious. You are slightly dehydrated.>

He released his control, letting the memorite sphere gradually disintegrate and absorb back into him. He leaned back in his chair and took a breath he only slightly needed, though his heart was pumping fast. He got up to get some water, drinking a canteen full and then filling it with an NP packet and downing another.

Excellent! 1.6 equivalent? Should be enough for a sharp shiv, maybe even a blade. Just gotta work on the concept and improve the speed.

After he'd rested up on the couch watching TV and eating, he did a bit of working out with exercises and weights inside his room, going diligently through routines Mr. Tower had drilled into him. Just another form of homework.

About the time he was doing various curls to work on the biceps, Neex popped into his head. "Greetings, Jack! I am conducting our desired routine discussion!"

"Hey Neex!" he replied as he set down a dumbbell. "How was your day?"

"Excellent! A bunch of classified discussions again." Her tone was disappointed, indicating she wanted to tell him more. "Oh! They complied with my request for more life in my pool! I now have two domesticated 'clownfish,' apparently one of the few options for saltwater pets up here. And here, I've never seen them before. But they are delightful and adorable! And swim so prettily. We are getting along well. They like to hide, but they've already accepted me. I've named them Stripey and Nibbles."

Jack laughed, even as he once again felt a little pang of annoyance that it felt like she was being treated as an aquarium piece. "I'm happy to hear it. You seem like you're a pet owner type."

Neex had a pang of something translate through their link, which Jack could only describe as 'homesickness.' "Mmmph, I miss my little friends! I have forty-seven pets in my lounge pool! Some explore the dry chambers to a degree. Ack! Poor Nestle and Mushroom. They will not be doing well without me. My sister says their brains are too small to know the difference, but she is wrong. Nestle will not crawl along and clean anyone else but me! I am so horrible of a person to leave them, Jack!"

Jack was grinning despite her sudden angst. He shook his head. I might not want to know what Nestle is. "I'm sure they'll be fine, Neex. And I know you did a brave thing coming here. We just have to make sure being here counts and is worth it."

"Yeah! You're right, of course. We'll do our best. You're doing your best, no?"

"You know it! I'm going to get that coat in no time, flat."

"I believe this with you!" Neex formed the image of a thumbs-up. "So, how was your day?"

"Great. Fantastic progress on core Control, and then I met some new cadets and such…" Jack shared about his experience with the weird staff game and Highfive, as Neex listened attentively, occasionally gasping, laughing, or cheering. Jack was preemptively warned by Mini not to share Highfive's powers, sadly, so Jack just generalized it as a 'cool, powerful ability that suits the owner.'

When he was done with the little story, Neex exclaimed, "Wow! You had such a good time with your human peers. I can tell it made you happy. And congratulations on the scoring of a point in the contest!" Her attitude got solemn. "I will remember this glory and keep it in my heart."

"Well, it's not a big deal or anything…" The mental clearing of a throat. "But yeah, I enjoyed it. Been a while getting in there, so to speak. Reminds me of old buddies I haven't seen in a while."

"It is good to remember the things that make you alive, so that you don't forget how to stay that way. Create them again."

"Ah. Good advice, yeah."

"What else do you miss?"

Jack considered it. "Right now, off the top of my head? My car. Alice."

Neex gasped. "Your flying vessel is living technology?!"

Laughing, Jack shook his head. "No, no, some guys just name their cars. And the AI it uses. Anyway, I've thought about her here and there, despite these other priorities. I'm a bit afraid Mother expects me to give her up. Jack Laker is not supposed to be around anymore, right? That car is distinctive and distinctively his. No way around it." Jack sighed. "Do I have to get a new car for the new me? That sucks."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I know it must be special to you. Perhaps you could fly it where you are not known? Your people have many platforms."

"That's true. Maybe. Sadly, as a pure levitation engine, it wouldn't do well on the frontier. Bah, who am I kidding? I'm not going to be driving around much. I guess she's going to retire, basically. I'll put her on a showpiece pedestal, polish her up. A big ass memento. There are worse fates, right?"

"It sounds like a fitting and respectful end, Jack, yes."

"Yeah, I was just thinking, I'm destined to be Out There. Always was. I'm excited for it. Wondering what it will be like to cross that threshold few ever do: the border of Memoria's territory. Danger dialed to eleven, No Man's Land, the Deadzone spoken of only in whispers…"

Neex was quiet for a moment, as if considering her words carefully. "I hope you get to see what's under it, as well. Where I'm from. You wouldn't think it a Deadzone, but a Livezone."

"I have no doubt. I hope so, too. I'd assume that, ah, if things 'go well,' as you've mentioned before, that I'd be slated to go there. I'm likely some kind of potential ambassador, and you can't stay here forever."

"A fair assumption! We must continue to hope."

Jack smirked to himself. She wasn't being blatant due to confidentiality, but reading between the lines, this was probably what she wanted and was campaigning for. Maybe it was even 'the plan.' That he couldn't be sure of, and he couldn't ask. If she could say, she would have already.

"I'm continuing to look forward to our reunion in real space," Jack offered. "Coming to a cell near you."

"Me too! But, um, I thought it would be my cell? I prefer 'containment quarters,' though."

"Sorry, just a- forget it. Your containment quarters, yes. I'd assume."

"Even better! Jack, would it be appropriate to perform the homo sapien form of hugging upon meeting? Fully-clothed, of course. I have what is called 'The Bathing Suit' prepared for the occasion of amphibious exercises. What a hilarious term! It is both technically accurate and functionally inaccurate! You don't take your baths in them! Haha! But I tried it in the water, and it is quite functional. Much better for hydrodynamics than the shirt."

"Uhhh, yes. Hugging would be fine. I'd like that."

Warmth through the bond. "Excellent! I'm glad that we are good friends who can perform hugging. Deucalians do similar with friends and family, though the word is perhaps closer to 'entangle.' A reasonable facsimile."

Jack chuckled. "I see. Well, good! Also, I think someone was messing with you a bit by choosing the word 'bathing suit,' considering we have the more logical term 'swimsuit' readily available. Or, wait, did you get your info from someone older?"

"Yes, she's an elder of your people."

"Ah, that explains it. Carry on, oh nana to my bondsmate. Actually, I will let you go. Going to finish up my reps, get one more run in, and eat half the fridge."

The image of the tentacles making a heart formed once more in his mind. "It was fun talking! Bye-bye, Jack! No Death!"

Jack made the image of a heart sign back, with 'virtual fingers.' Neex just liked it too much not to. "Bye-bye, Neex! No Death!"