Shaper of Metal Post-Apoc Progression LitRPG

Chapter 62: Indulgences



Screamer was quiet and still for a while, keeping hold of Jack's hand and content to enjoy the moment of peace.

Jack asked, "So, how do you feel?"

"Empty," she replied. "The… calm before the storm. Calmer than ever. Too sweet."

"The storm doesn't have to come this time, Screamer. It won't. You won't let it. Keep the calm. Don't let it pass you by. Hold to what made it. You remember. Your promises: for Ham-Up, for yourself. The pull of a trigger."

Screamer began nodding rapidly. Her face got more intense and contorted. Tears fell from her eyes, and she wiped them away angrily. Sniffed. She took deep, shuddering breaths, squeezing his hand and staring at it, focusing on it. Obviously, she was resisting crying with all of her power. "I will. For… for you, too."

"You can cry again, Screamer. It's okay."

"I've cried enough."

'It's enough when it's out of you naturally, not enough via tourniquet pressure."

She lifted her head finally and met his eyes. Her expression was one of supreme stubbornness. "Then it'll be enough later. Not here, not now."

Jack chuckled and shrugged. "Fair enough." He took a moment to study her. Hair a wild woman's mop. Pallor, bags under her eyes, marks on her face. Too many lines in one so young. The face of a woman who had been dragged through hell, yet with eyes fiery and lively. Aware and determined. "You're going to be alright, Screamer. You're a survivor, hmm?"

She nodded slowly, studying him right back. "So are you."

Jack grinned. "Yeah, alright. We can be proud of that together, now, don't you think?"

"I'd like that. Thank you. You can call me Ree, by the way." Her eyes shifted, looking around. It was like she was seeing the room for the first time. Sadness crossed her face. "I'd like to get out of here."

"I doubt I can help there, but I'll try. You probably have to prove and earn that particular right."

She nodded. "I will, then." After a pause, she added, "As long as they bring me some reading materials when it's boring. I prefer physical paper media."

"That I will make sure of, though I'm sure it's fine."

She nodded again, vaguely this time. She turned, searching his face, and asked, "Can I ask what happened in here?" She touched a finger to her temple. "Things aren't adding up. This is all… I shouldn't say 'crazy.' Bizarre. How are you involved? You and someone… or something else."

Mini chimed. We're relating to both of you that the details on that final matter remain classified.

Jack sighed grandly and hung his head.

Screamer's eyes flicked away as her expression turned dark, obviously having been given the message. "Great. It's not like I struggle with hallucinations and paranoia or anything…"

Jack groaned in sympathy and turned his head, calling out loudly, "Memoria! Memoria, please make an exception for your daughter. A war hero, no less. Let's secure the room and prioritize her mental health over likely spurious classified info — that's my humble request. Haven't I earned some leeway?"

Screamer's eyes went wide in shock at him as he spoke. There was a long pause without sound.

The speaker suddenly did a wince-inducing whine, and Memoria's voice came through, full of cheer. "Well, well, you caught me eavesdropping, son! You know your mother, don't you? Yes, Jack, you have earned some leeway. Credit where credit is due — always. The same for my dear daughter, hmm? A wilted flower made to blossom bright again! With luck, that is. But, yes, you've convinced me with that silver tongue of yours. Go ahead, then. Drop the bloody Q-bomb. I'm curious to see what happens, but don't go overboard. Keep it clean and relevant. The room is secure, in any case. Poor Dr. Kimura. He's so disappointed!"

Screamer's eyes weren't only as wide as they could go, her mouth was wide open in disbelief. She glanced at Jack uncertainly and asked, "These aren't delusions, right? This is real?"

Jack nodded soberly, trying to portray confidence she could lean on. "Truth is often stranger than fiction. I'm a Non, now. Technically a Junior Agent, but I have powers, is my point. They're not even anything to do with the mind. I was given powers under Memoria, but it was from the influence of a special bond made. A bond with someone from… the ocean. They're called the Deucalians and their Archon is called Quallakuloth. Q-Loth. That's the Q-bomb. Q-Loth helped me connect to Memoria and Q-Loth is who cleared away the derangements of the mutual enemy that was plaguing your mind. Through me, Q-Loth facilitated your freedom of will."

Screamer stared at him incredulously. A bit horrified, too. "An Archon?" Suddenly, she slipped her hand out of his. Immediately, with her hand pulled half-way between them, she glanced at it guiltily and murmured, "Sorry… I just…" She shook her head and looked away.

Jack waved it off. "It's fine. I understand. It must make some sense to you. That's why I wanted you to hear the truth. So it… added up. It's absurd yet it's also the logical explanation. Hopefully the dots connect to you."

Screamer squeezed her eyes shut briefly, then opened them again and they flitted around as she worked through things in her head. "Tendrils… a deep, cold dark place — an abyss… a mysterious voice… a fever cooling like ice… mirages evaporating… nightmares ripped apart…" She squeezed her eyes shut again and showed clenched teeth as she made a fist that shook. But her tension eased and she swallowed hard. A moan escaped, and she muttered balefully, "Heaven's Blood Raining Down…" An old curse.

"I'm sorry," Jack offered in sympathy. "It's hard to take, but that's what happened. Times are changing, essentially, Ree. Hopefully, we're on the cusp of a new era. Instead of being a casualty of it, you're a victory. Maybe you'll even be one to help it bloom."

Her eyes opened and she stared down at the floor. A hand came up to touch her mouth as she was lost in introspection. "Allies? It… they… could be allies?"

Memoria answered this time. "The logarithmic conclusion of that calculus is currently favorable; the progression could be miraculous indeed. Jack was very optimistic from the get-go and I'm getting there myself, in part from the circumstances that have me speaking to a salient you right now. Something seemingly impossible per the last three years."

Screamer's eyes shifted to look upward. "I know you tried, Mother. I recall… incidents…"

"Try not to, dear. You've got a long road to walk. You mustn't sprint down it. Not yet."

"Yes, Mother."

"How I've longed to hear those words from you, again."

Screamer nodded slowly, and then squinted. Winced almost painfully. "I think I told you to frag off, an-and I used the 'B' word…" She made it sound like sacrilege.

"We'll laugh about it one day, I promise."

"I'm not sure about that, Mother."

"Regardless, don't obsess! Move on, in a better frame."

Jack added, "Yeah, you have two Archons telling you the same thing, now."

Screamer met his eyes. "What was it?" She furrowed her brows. " 'Made to walk forward… even out of ashes behind me.' I like that."

Jack smiled and nodded.

Memoria chuckled. "That Q-Loth, what a way with words, hmm? So humanity has, yes. Naught but ashes left, and I was carved out of the very hated substance of destruction, to make us a new phoenix rising! What can we not survive, my children, when we persist even now, after the end of the world? You two, like microcosms of that. What an honor, to bring you back together-"

"Not sure why you didn't warn me before I came in here," Jack muttered in interruption.

"Oh, surely you could if you thought about it, Jack. Blood-pumping shock and awe, motivational authenticity in the moment, sheer novelty, surely you see the gains? Impact, my boy. Your charge herself needed to buy in, and one can trust their dealer more easily to see authentic humanity leading up to the offer, hmm? But, as I was saying, it's an honor to restore a friendship forged in the foxhole and cut short by the horrors of our reality… but we must cut it short again, as my daughter needs proper rest. Restful rest not born of drug-induced assistance for the first time in years."

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Screamer blinked a few times, and finally shrugged. "It does sound appealing. I shudder to try or even think it is possible, though."

"Pfft! You won't have to, dear. You're going to conk out as soon as your pretty little head hits the pillow. As soon as you stop this noble resistance."

Screamer made a doubtful noise.

Memoria suddenly yawned grandly in exaggeration. "Yaaayhf, oh man! Hyaaahf, phew, so sleepy!"

Screamer immediately yawned in response, hand going up to her mouth. She did a frustrated sitting hop and groaned, afterward, glaring up at the ceiling, pouting profusely. "Hey! Not fair, Mother! Illegal maneuver…"

Jack fought off a mild urge to yawn himself, and laughed. "Well, that sounds like an order, in any case. Better skedaddle."

As soon as he shifted, though, Screamer shot a hand out to take his. "You'll visit? Please."

He nodded reassuringly. "Of course. If they let me."

"Oh, I'll make sure of that. I'll go a little crazy. Should do the trick."

"Hey!" Memoria admonished firmly. "Don't you dare even threaten such a thing, young lady!"

"Then don't make me have to do it, Mother!"

"That's extortion! What's next? Holding your breath?"

"Don't tempt me."

Jack shook his head, chuckling in exasperation and holding up a hand. "Please, ladies, please! I'm sure we can distribute Jack efficiently where and as needed with proper scheduling." He affected a shit-eating, smug grin.

Screamer gave him a withering glare, rolled her eyes, and pulled her hand away, flopping backward to lay down and cross her arms in a huff, her eyes upward. "You can go now. I only want Humble Jack around."

Still laughing, Jack rose, nodding along. "Ah, I see, I see. Guess I need the cold shoulder for a while before I can return."

Eyes almost closed, Screamer nodded emphatically as her legs and feet stretched out where he'd been sitting. "That's right. Fooey on you, right now." Her face betrayed a bit of a smile. Deliberate silliness; glee to be hale and whole. Personality cracking and shining back through the petrified state.

He felt a lot of emotions seeing that break — more than anything, that little light of her restoration, that cherry on top, convinced him of what he'd helped to cause. But he put on mock offended airs and said, "Yeah, I'll just fooey myself on out of here, then, thank you!" He started walking.

"Jack," she called. He turned around to see her with one eye held open, moving bed covers over herself. "Thank you. Seriously. Whatever the means, I accept them, and… I'm grateful."

"No problem. Get better."

"I will."

They exchanged nods, and Jack exited in and out of an airlock, momentarily putting his boots back on.

Dr. Kimura was waiting for him on the other side, nodding respectfully and then jerking his head in a 'come on' motion before walking down the hallway. "You've already been cleared to leave. I'll see you out, Junior Agent Laker."

"Sure," Jack replied as he followed. "Thanks for letting me lead in there, Doc."

"Of course. The patient is my priority."

"Wonderful to hear from a doctor."

"The SOP. They train the ego out of us, whatever our specialty, or we wouldn't be back here. Behavior monitoring isn't just high for patients. There's a saying, here: 'If your stones bruise, keep ointment in your pocket.' Crude, but accurate."

"Damn. The pay better be good."

"Can't complain there, honestly. But it's not just that. The challenge, the importance, the clearance. And I know we didn't make a great first impression with you, technically, but we help a lot of people here. Sadly, some we can barely make comfortable."

"Yeah. It is what it is. I don't make any judgments, though. I happened to see first hand the extent of what you were dealing with."

The doctor glanced at him as they awaited an airlock opening. "Wish I could ask how you managed what we couldn't. Might not matter for our methodology, but maybe it would, too. Nonetheless, I'm excited to reassess and move forward with her." He had a wan grin. "Maybe she'll even stop calling me Dr. Devil. It caught on with the orderlies."

Jack winced for more than one reason. "I can't say for sure, but you can have hope that you'll understand one day, and be able to analyze things in some fashion." If Q-Loth is allowed to be more well-known, that is. "Also, Dr. Devil sounds pretty catchy. You could start a reality show with that."

Dr. Kimura took it in stride smoothly, shaking his head and frowning. "No, I think the ratings for that would be abyss-mal."

Jack cackled and shot a fingergun at him. "Ohhhh! Good one."

As the doctor continued leading him, Jack internally addressed Mini. <Let Memoria know I want to speak with her directly. Soon. Very, very soon.>

<I've already been instructed to tell you she expected it and to tell you she planned on doing so, but also not to get too used to it.>

Hmmph. <Alright, then.>

While Jack was sitting down, taking the final train back to his Quarters and beginning to feel his fatigue hit him, he got a notification.

Your Level has improved to 2.1! Please enter the trance and Calibrate, as this changes your total Allotment.


The Bondmaking Imbue trait, Prey's Redress, improved to 0.3! Actual leverage of full value in flux. Please Calibrate.

Righteous! A fractional for my troubles, and Imbues can increase? Gotta love it.

He asked Mini, <Which of my Imbues can increase like that?>

<Most things, hypothetically, but they require novel, actual accomplishment, not training. That's because they are auxiliary effects of Allotment. Minor tweaks that are solidified by Calibration.

Some are more likely to increase than others. Symmetrical Seal, if you were attacked in that way, for example. Helper's Heart would require training to learn utilization, and then also something extraordinary in the field. That or many effective field uses.>

Hmm. Interesting. That's a good one as a reminder, though. When I start teaming, HH will be damned useful.

When he went into his quarters, there was Memoria, cooking in the kitchen, making the whole place smell of eggs, bacon, fresh-baked bread, and delicious oils. Jazz music was playing from the TV. Jack just stared from immediately inside from the door, in utter disbelief.

Memoria paused in her frenetic activity to look over and flash a grin Jack's way. She was wearing a flowery apron over her suit. "Welcome home, son! Have a seat! It's almost ready. Soft, gooey scrambled eggs! You'll love them. I honed them to perfection over the course of a century, meticulously tweaked by my genius intellect! And I didn't bake the bread here, by the by. It's just getting nice and toasty in your oven." She turned back to her work.

Jack blinked a few times. His stomach did a gurgle as the smells tantalized him. His mouth watered and he swallowed. His will to be annoyed with her took quite a gut punch, though it wasn't completely wiped away. Slowly, he proceeded inward and sat down at his kitchen table, the silverware already waiting. He stared at her back.

As she pulled a couple of ceramic plates from the cabinet and began assembling food on them, Jack finally found words and said, "This is bribery, isn't it?"

"Of course!" Memoria exclaimed cheerily without turning around. "As a mother bribes her son with indulgences in order to attain his happiness!"

"I think that's hardly the only motivation."

Scoop, scoop, scoop; metal clinking sounds on ceramics. "Indeed not! The mother has to soothe her son's ravenous hunger, which she's entirely responsible for birthing into the world. Instinctually obligated to satiate and satisfy, thereby fulfilling her principal, evolutionary role! Nourishing her generational spawn." All the while, a swift dance was performed to the beat of a jazz number, as food flowed onto the plates. "In the womb, or out, biology and behavior conspire."

Jack frowned. "You don't have a biology."

Memoria turned around with two plates, setting one down at the seat directly across the table from him, and then setting his plate in front of him while wearing a wide grin. The food was piled high with greasy eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns, as well as two thick pieces of toast. "If it looks like a body, moves like a body, and eats like a body, what else is it?" She stole — quite unnecessarily — one of Jack's bacon pieces and bit into it with an audible crunch. "Mmn!" She then winked, turned around, removed her apron, and sat at the table. "Well, go on! Dig in!"

More than a hologram, that's for sure. An extremely complex one?

Jack looked down at his food and suddenly it felt like a real shame it wasn't going down into his gullet. He speared the gooey eggs with a fork and took a bite. The taste elicited an involuntary sound.

Memoria was beaming. "No need to say anything, my son. Your face has spoken." She took a bite of eggs herself, squinting as she chewed. She nodded slowly, and began digging in.

Jack couldn't help himself — he started pigging out, alternating bites of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and the relative taste-clearer that was the buttery toast. He finally got a hold of himself just a wee bit when it was all half-gone. Memoria, meanwhile, was much more disciplined, eating at maybe a quarter of his speed, though she had smaller portions on her plate, too.

Jack leaned back, wiped his face with a napkin, and belched. After muttering an 'excuse me,' he continued, "So. This is where I ask how it's possible Screamer suffered that long."

Memoria also wiped her mouth with a napkin as she paused in her meal. "I tried many, many things, Jack. The problem with our psychics is rarity and potency. They just don't show up very often, and when they do, it's warped or limited. It's hard to risk their fragile little shells in the places and ways they could grow to complete strength, too. Even in the sheltered levels, they are incredibly valuable. Nonetheless, we conspired to take a shot with Screamer that we were optimistic about. But it seems we bungled it. We underestimated how dug in she was with her own will. How much she retreated into herself. Even Q-Loth, I feel, I sense, needed you to get over the nastiness of the hump. Without your connection, without the trust she reached out to you with, I believe it would've been a failure."

Jack took a few moments to digest this along with the eggs and bacon. The latter stuff was probably doing so faster. "What about bringing my prior peon self in? The bored pilot. Could've worked with the psychic. Could've done something worth a damn even without powers."

He felt a pang of guilt, though. He could've taken the local assignment. They didn't force him to be a civilian. He would've had better access. But after what they put him through just to get to that flaccid offer…

Memoria shook her head. "Not only unlikely to work back then, but it would've been like feeding you to the wolves without protection. Heavy PIMAD cases should not be exposed to untrained Franks, especially not a Frank with a heavy exposure case. There are usually bad interactions and potentials for amplification and exacerbation. The more vulnerable people are to each other, the worse the potential. In fact, I already fragged up with that, in her respect. One of the data points that taught us not to do it, and made me deeply question whether you were an exception despite instincts and data points."

"You used someone else?"

Memoria nodded sadly. Sighed and looked off. "Indeed I did…"

Jack, the egg on his fork paused on its way to his mouth, waited expectantly, hoping against hope she'd cough up the the intel, yet worried at her tone and demeanor.

⚓ Patreon Link, Next Chappy — Chapter 63: The Last Anchor


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