Shaper of Metal Post-Apoc Progression LitRPG

The supernovae floating before Jack's perceptions contorted into discernible code, which Jack rapidly read with burning excitement.

Jack's excitement split as he read, growingly counterbalanced with anxiety about the choices. He winced, almost in pain, at the idea of giving up any of the options.

Shit, frag, fiddlesticks, and damn, but these are all nice.

Meanwhile, the titanic Memoria was grinning devilishly and rubbing her hands together.

Jack didn't want to discount the last one, Micro Manufactory, because he knew how powerful it could be in the right hands, and over a longer period of time… he could just imagine what was possible if he had that choice when he was younger. Did he have the head for engineering? Invention? Well. Maybe not. And yet, even so, it would probably have immense potential.

For me, right now, the short-term would be creating guns as needed… I could get that down. I don't really know what else. It probably doesn't help me much with team stuff coming up.

It just seemed like he was the wrong guy to exploit it. And he knew something like this would probably color the direction of his powers. 'Metal Tinkerer/Gadgeteer.' Fun in theory, but he didn't have much more support for something like it. It was going to be a ton of work to be all it could be. Here was where Transmute allocation was probably extending his possibilities to further limits.

But his other two options looked like damn strong basic expansions of what he was already about. Long Bomber was a very narrow but powerful, literal extension, and Anchors was… both a raw power expansion and one of breadth and versatility.

And there he was, staring at the coveted Interpret boost. Of course, it would be a choice between that and fraggin' Create, of all things!

Lindsay's voice was in his head, chiding him about how 'rare' it was to get Create options…

Damn it! It's my core stat. It improves my basic Allotment. And Anchors adds even more to that. I can use a portion of my power, like to make a barrier or restraint, and leave it without losing the reinforcement of my powers. Or stack it on top of something else.

In that space, Jack conducted some facsimile of a deep breath, his eyes meeting the enormous, gleaming stars of Memoria, who was now smirking at him.

"Having a tough time, I see," Memoria offered. "So it is with such choices, usually."

"I'm a bit leery to ask you to sell me on something," Jack said, "because I know you're good at it, but I probably should bite the bullet for your unique insight. So. Uh. Just how good is Anchors, Mother?"

"Pretty preposterously good, I'd say. When you consider the other two, it has the most immediate 'I can do new things I couldn't before' quality. Long Bomber is a raw, narrow effectiveness boost for sniping, and Micro Manufactory has a nebulous training period, possibly even frustrating for you. It's definitely not unique, as you can see from its synergistic sentence. I do not have a shortage of this sort of thing, we'll say."

"Nor a shortage of snipers."

"Sure, but in that case, your unique 'ranger' qualities beyond my borders make any of your enhanced combat capabilities of high value."

"Mmn. Figures. Anything more to sell me on for Anchors as well as Long Bomber? Devil's Advocate."

"How sinful, Jack. I suppose I can indulge. Long Bomber, in addition to improving your tactical ranged combat, could open up more ranged attack specialties in the future, namely a likely velocity increase, improving speed and power. Particularly if you focus on that in training and accomplishments."

Jack winced. "My other abilities are medium-range, though, so it dilutes them a bit to focus on Throw. And range will increase without it, right? Without the advantages."

"A reasonable position, yes. As for Anchors, that's a selection of versatility and utility. Tactical breadth. Hard to predict what it might open up as it isn't as much of a stamp as the others. Perhaps more multitasking aides, perhaps long-distance operation one day. There's also the Create element, perhaps slightly steering toward more of a focus on Magnitude. Power over precision. The selection is well-balanced, though, so it is slight."

"I see. So, if I want to focus on medium range and dealing with powerhouses, this is the better pick?"

"Something like that. There is one other thing about Anchors. The ranger thing, proximity, and utility on a team." She made an expression, something like raising an eyebrow at him (without eyebrows).

Jack considered it. He cracked open the Channel Memorite details and looked for the thing she was referring to.

Jack snapped to it after reading, combined with Highfive's exclamations about Jack's ability to buff his teammates. "I can leave a small amount of Memorite with others, without debuffing myself for an instance running?"

Memoria grinned and nodded. "Very good. Yes. And with far greater gaps of distance between."

Jack eyed the selection for Anchors rather soberly. He'd already been leaning toward it, but that was a revelation that made it almost impossible for him to pass the option up. As he gained levels, the necessary Magnitude to commit would be less and less relevant, and he could distribute more Anchors around, reinforcing the abilities of multiple entire teams.

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Magnitude strength 1… that's 75 Allotment… quite a bit for me now, but it still opens a new door to our capabilities together abroad, and that'll just keep growing as I achieve.

Jack punched his selection. The other options collapsed and folded into the middle, interconnected veins pulsing and showing the construct connecting into the cosmic web surrounding them. It held there, thrumming with power and life, yet paused.

Immense hands came together in a deific clap that shook the universe. "Excellent! The Create alone is a raw extension of your power. You can't go wrong with that, my boy. Now you need to select your other statistic for Level 3. Compared to the rest, this is a dumped canteen into a river!"

Jack frowned. "Agonizing as it is to leave Interpret low again, I don't wanna sacrifice Control going into team training. I'll need as much as I can get to compete. One more shot at Level 4 selections, and if not, I'll take it as my stat choice."

On the heels of his words, he punched in his selection for Control. The text transmorphed into branched out strands contorted into unknown symbology.

"The selections are made, and the alteration shall commence! Prepare for cementation and the return to meatspace." Memoria's gigantic hand came up to cradle him within it like some precious curio. "Well done, my boy. I continue to expect the world of you. Farewell! May Humanity Prevail!"

The great web twisted and contorted with vast quivering and shaking as everything that was his construct, his Allotment, expanded and grew vastly. Doubled. Hooks into reality beyond drove deeper and further, and all that was possible became more flexible and fluidly obtained. The meaning, vague as it was to interpret, was a little clearer to him than before: reach and grip carved out further with more 'digits,' and he was made stronger, quicker, and more versatile.

The vast complexity of it made his memory of it all pockmarked, but the sense of surreal awe and wonder remained as he finally came back to reality on his bed, face-planted and drooling. He felt drained and raw as well as thirsty and hungry, something like the old feeling of waking up in the morning. He groaned as he sat up. Despite the sense of his needs, he didn't wanna get up at all. Poo.

Wow. I really forgot what this was like already.

When he checked the time, it had been just shy of two hours. Stretching, yawning, Jack got up and got moving, soon stuffing his face with some cold baked chicken right out of the fridge, washing it down with some jetfuel-in-a-can and slowly beginning the process to actually cook some breakfast.

One of his basic routines at any given period of free time was checking on Neex, and he was thinking of her anyway after the 'health scare' situation… but when he pinged, he got nothing. She was blocking off the connection somehow.

Jack frowned. Well, it was entirely her right, after all, but it did worry him at the same time. He double-checked his notifications, but there was nothing.

I mean, Memoria would let me know if there was something bad happening, surely…

Jack pinged Mini. <Hey, is Neex okay?>

<Yes, Jack. All is well, and this was a voluntary, temporary measure.>

<Oh, alright. Thanks.> Trying to let the mystery and worry go, Jack went ahead and prepped to cook up some eggs and sausage and toasted bagels, aiming for two big sandwiches. While he was at it, he poked at his new mutation, Anchors, channeling memorite through that secondary 'partition,' as it were, and getting used to multitasking with it by operating pans and using artificial 'hands' made of metal.

Thanks to Control 4.0 online — minus a little percentage until he trained some with it — his actions in this way were more efficient and agile than with his real hands. It was just too much superiority over normal human operation, even with rote actions. A quickened dance commenced, five different instances shifting around between pans and long-fingered metal hands that opened cabinets and wrapped around things. Cracking eggs, opening bags, all routine things, but almost alien to do like he was. It was still better focusing on two things, maybe three, at any time, but it was a far cry from his recent best of precisely one thing at a time being the only thing near to one-hundred percent.

It was surreal to see. He grinned as he crossed his arms, working 'metal magic' by sight and feel.

This is even better than containing an electrocution bomb. Well, maybe not. But it's super badass. And it absolutely counts as training!

Just as he was finishing up, the doorbell rang. Jack blinked. Augur, probably. Or maybe Highfive? He'd kinda gone dark for a day except for a quick message along the lines of 'Might be rare for a bit. Mission.'

Quickly turning everything off and leaving the cooking extravaganza in a safe, anchored state, with that 'new ability glow' suffusing him with satisfaction, Jack made his way to the door and opened it.

He blinked as he looked down. A short, pale girl in an unmarked uniform, wearing a thin hoody and a thicker jacket tied by the arms around her waist. Hints of purple hair underneath. From behind rectangular smart glasses, big blue eyes peered up at him expectantly as she raised a hand and smiled. "Hi, Jack."

Stunned, only ten percent processing what he was seeing, Jack dumbly, slowly held his hand up in a return gesture. "Hi." He otherwise stared.

The smile got a bit nervous as her lips twisted, holding his gaze unblinkingly. Her eyes seemed to warble oddly. Then she looked over at her hand and slowly, hesitantly turned it into a thumbs-up.

And then it fully hit him. His eyes widened, and he sucked in breath before exclaiming, "N-"

Before the syllable had even left his mouth, she was leaping onto him with quickness and fluidity, hand closing over his mouth. Eyes wider than his, face-to-face, nearly nose to nose, her hair seemed to wriggle, and her pupils went melty and amorphous. The disguised Neex said in a whispery hiss, "Not that name! Undercover! Ira!"

A very confused Jack nodded as he stumbled back slightly, still with a Neex wrapped around his top half, only slowly lowering her hand.

Just then, a cadet was passing by, yawning and glancing his way. He stopped dead at the unusual sight, just as Jack met his eyes. Neex twisted to follow his gaze. She stiffened in embarrassment.

The cadet quickly coughed into a hand and averted his gaze, walking on with a murmured, "Excuse me," soon hurrying past.

Despite that, Jack quickly pushed the door closed and let out an amazed laugh as he simultaneously/counterproductively let the disguised Neex down and hugged her at the same time. "It's you! Hahaha! Ne-... Ira."

"Yes! It's me!" She giggled as she returned the hug. When they parted, she was grinning wide — perhaps a bit too wide for a purely human face, but only just. Her eyes suddenly shifted back and forth, narrowing in suspicion. "The Coast Has Been Cleared? The area is secure to witnesses and eavesdroppers?"

"Yes. You can talk freely. Technically, your actual name would be fine here, eh?"

'Ira' made a face and shook her head. "Better to compartmentalize this" — she made a sweeping motion over her body — "as much as possible in the practicing, so there are no slippages in public." Stepping back slightly from Jack, she drew herself up, back straight, chin up, arms crossing behind her back, eyelids heavy-lidded in cool, detached judiciousness. "I am Agent Ira, observational asset and special asset- er, special liaison, rather. The name means 'watchful,' you see."

"Okay," Jack said slowly, nodding along, but he couldn't keep a smile off his face, both from his general glee and the sheer adorableness of her paper-thin disguise. "Obviously, this was Memoria's idea."

Ira's hair rustled, and her pupils leaked out of their proper spot, blorping in a zigzag through the iris before centralizing. "We conspired together, Jack! In actuality, I" — she pointed to her face with two hands — "was the one who suggested surprising you when my clearance from Containment was fully authorized. We Deucalians are quite playful with our friends, family, and- and naturally, bondsmates would apply! Are you not happy?" She cocked her head, hips, and shrugged with both hands out in an exaggerated feminine display, like someone who'd recently been watching too many awful teen sitcoms.

Jack still could not cease grinning. Oh, Stars and Heavens, tell me she didn't binge terrible shows to understand human behavior! "Of course I'm happy, Neex- er, Ira. Sorry."

Ira put a fist on her hip, squinting and making a face as she leaned forward and shook a finger at him reproachfully. "Don't you flub it up in public, ya big dweeb!" Immediately, she gasped, and her hand covered her mouth as she began to turn the dull color of the wall behind her. "Oh, no! That was an insult! I'm so sorry and so terrible of a person!"

Jack waved it off. "I'm just sad there was no laugh track." Ira just blinked at him, so he chuckled and added, "I can tell you're pulling some behavior from TV shows. I'd suggest going with 'big lug.' Common enough, and playfully reproachful. No one would take actual offense."

The disguised Neex re-colored to a human shade as she silently repeated the word, and a finger shot out. "Yes! I heard that one, too. Filing it away… ya big lug!" She laughed.

Jack smiled and nodded in approval. "I can tell you're excited to be around humans. Have any other encounters or mishaps yet?"

"Not really! I simply wandered around and observed with curious but detached calculation! Briefly, before coming here. The cover story goes I am from another isolated flying platform of a different culture, with highly specialized powers of an analytical nature. Central plans to utilize me and has trained me somewhat, but I need much more data on a great number of things. I'm assigned with those who know more for many purposes, but also paired with one who also knows little and is new like me." She grinned. "He's also a worthy case study in terms of a developing powers user."

Jack did his best to make a disappointed expression. It probably wasn't the greatest attempt considering his good mood. "Damn. Well, who's the lucky guy? Can I meet him, at least?"

Ira made a face and pointed at him. "It's you, silly!" As Jack pretended to be amazed, Ira squinted at him. "Ohhh, I see. You are fighting not to smile. You weren't serious and were being playful. Very nice. You got me back. Hmmph." She suddenly darted past him and looked around rapidly, throwing her hands out with excited energy. "Show me your abode, Big Lug Silly Human! I expect the courtesy of a full tour, as you were kindly provided for mine."

Chuckling, Jack turned around to see her spinning in place to get the measure of the place. "You bet, Agent Ira."

If I'm the big lug, what would she think of the penultimate big lug, Highfive? Oh shit, is she going to meet everyone?! Is this real life or am I dreaming?!