Shaper of Metal Post-Apoc Progression LitRPG

Jack's first order of business, once at his typical training spot in Power Park, was stress-testing his huge power spike, which meant pushing Create and its associated derived stats. This would be lifting heavy stuff, morphing large amounts of materials, and hitting things really hard. As it happened, these were also all wonderful things to show off to Neex.

The first thing he lifted was a refrigerator. When Ira asked why there was an empty refrigerator, he'd simply answered, "Because I can lift a refrigerator!" In fact, it was around half of his lift capacity, so he told Ira to get on top of it. Unable to hide her glee, she smiled big and jumped all the way up, landing directly into a cross-legged position like a damned acrobat.

Jack barked an amazed laugh. "Whoa! Way cool!"

Ira basked in the praise and gave a thumbs-up. "Now you!"

Promptly, Jack summoned most of his output, collapsed memorite into the fridge, and easily lifted it even with the little fake human on top. He floated it around the dirt field, as Ira pumped her fists and went, "Woooo! I am the Refridgerider! Fear me, mere dirt walkers!"

It lurched suddenly, causing Ira to yelp and hang on for dear life briefly — because Jack had doubled over in a blast of laughter at her. Ira was soon laughing with him, half-fallen on the fridge.

"Refridgerider!" Jack managed in breathless exclamation, wiping his eyes, trying to keep his composure to keep from spilling a Neex into the dirt. "Pfft! I'm dead."

Ira, grinning ear-to-ear, waggled her finger in admonishment. "Uh-uh, Jack! No death!"

After that very amusing venture, Jack went for the Big One: the steel anvil. A monstrous block of steel which, when still training with Lindsay, he'd only been able to push and knock over, at best.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his output to 97%, and forgoed adding his Anchors coordinated boost initially, going for it raw…

He levitated the whole thing off the ground.

"Whoooa!" Ira exclaimed, clapping appreciatively. "That is heavy, Jack! Very heavy!"

"I know!" Jack replied. He was actually sweating a bit already from the effort, his body straining in every fiber, even with his hand held out for a little extra oomph. Nonetheless, he could keep doing it, but the fatigue cost would be a waste, so he dropped it, still well satisfied with his 300-kilo-plus deadlift capacity. Grinning, he added, "You know, you're doing pretty great as a cheerleader."

Ira's eyes widened mid-clap. She sagged and facepalmed. "I'm such a horrible memorial agent…"

Jack chuckled as he shrugged. "I know which one is more fun on these training grounds, though."

Ira shot him a sheepish smile.

Adding an instance of Anchors to the lifting process, it was like putting an extra hand's worth of leverage on the anvil, levitating with relative ease even at 80% output. Briefly, he charged up to maximum to hurl it, and laughed as it was successfully flung a short distance and went rolling with a thunderous impact and indentation in the ground.

Dropping that mother on someone would be very nasty. I don't even think I should try it in Power Park. After a certain height, it might exceed the protection limit for force application.

He went through his familiar process of utilizing the anvil's raw material, now able to efficiently liquidate most of it in one fell swoop. On through the paces of creating shapes and morphing between them, he felt his way through the greater speed and responsiveness of Control 4.0. He divided them into different weights and levitated them in sequences familiar to him, to train up the Lift skill, which felt close, in addition to ensuring he maximized his available stat application.

When he feathered in his Anchors capability, he got a report from Lifeguard that it was giving him a chonky training speed increase, so it quickly became the standard method. It still felt somewhat odd, despite the superiority, which gave him even more reason to keep training it. It needed to become second nature yesterday, as far as he was concerned. So he set about making it a reality, dipping in and out of the lower Fatigue statuses to push it as much as possible, while also giving Mini time to assess the grade achieved.

With a great feel for his full Create capabilities under his belt, he shifted over to Control training. Mostly a mix of everything he typically went for: throwing darts for various forms of target practice, Cord and Spear work, and combining it with working from various central branches to train up Collect.

Considering Neex was there, Jack also did a bit of simulation sparring, namely against entities he was predicted to best, since getting his ass handed to him wasn't on his itinerary for the session. As it turned out, the 'big dog' razorena sim he'd more or less lost to once was now a great target.

After it materialized, he pelted it with darts shortly before it charged into range, already inhibited. He slammed a metal shield into it as it neared, almost knocking it over, but throwing it off balance and all but negating its momentum. He then promptly followed up, goring it in the neck with a waiting solid metal spear. The force and momentum were such that it went all the way through. As it spewed false blood, bucked, and tried to howl, Jack Shaped the metal of the spear violently, turning it into an expanding, sharpened disk that decapitated it from the inside out, ending the battle.

As the simulation turned into disintegrating blue light, Ira could be seen watching on in shock, both hands held over her mouth. This was only brief before she got over it and suddenly threw her hands up in cheer. "You killed it, Jack! Haha!" After a brief bounce, she calmed, though she continued to clap. "I thought it would munch on your head, but you moved very fast to stop it!"

Jack grinned and nodded. "Practice, practice, practice. Shaping metal as a follow-up is nasty. Probably not as useful in the team duels inevitably coming up, considering we have to limit our more murdery capacities. If there's anything disallowed, internal damage has to be at the top of the list. But if I tag someone with metal, they've got some hurt coming, one way or another."

'Ira' was quick to nod respectfully and clasp her hands behind her back, portraying poise again on a dime. "I look forward to seeing you in legitimate action, Junior Agent."

Jack chuckled and shook his head as he mentally pinged Lifeguard to pivot and set up defense training. In addition to Evasion being primed to increase, the global technique Parry had gotten close to bumping up, the most recent from his crisis reactions, mitigating the egg-grenade thing back at the Windtaker apartment.

Momentarily, he was blocking bullets of various calibers out of the air, to the great delight of Ira. He was still a bit vexed that he didn't have the advantage of Interpret 2.0, which was sure to make it all easier in the 'sense and predict' stage, but between Control, G.P.E. for raw speed, and a bit from Evasion for reaction time, he was better at it than before.

Realistically, he could stop bullets before they even fired, so he trained exploratively and creatively at snap reactions to guns being drawn or swiveled at him. Because it was just raw Control, it was quickest to just fling the metal, much the same as a bullet was easiest to simply redirect slightly. But it might not be the best solution, depending on how strongly someone was holding onto it. He might face ANP hopefuls using guns, and would he want to risk a tug-of-war? Probably not.

Collapsing memorite into a firearm, as he'd trained on already, he could use Shape enhanced with Transmute a step slower than flicks, but prime himself for nasty follow-ups using the metal. He could even just fuse the barrel, which would make the gun explode in their face when they fired. He loved that idea, as it was an effect he could count on while moving his attention elsewhere.

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So he focused on that, aiming to get faster and faster at ruining just the barrels on a dime, and clandestinely on the inside, so the user would frag themselves when they pulled the trigger.

It did occur to him to 'plug' with memorite, too, but this was simply not conducive to the way the ability worked, not speedily. 'Collapsing,' or possessing metal, was an entirely novel idea, far faster than anything else in and of itself. His speed at forming useful concentrations of memorite somewhere beyond his immediate person was pretty crap. Even if he had some solid memorite floating nearby and moved it across space, it was slower than collapsing 'free' memorite and doing stuff with actual metal.

Solid memorite down-range also sucked, and was to be avoided, because it would be tied up and harder to repurpose speedily if he needed to collapse memorite elsewhere. Its best and most versatile state for ranged use was when it was all but invisible, essentially. This also allowed quick recall for emergency use.

The Jackette seriously made that easier, but he had not even brought it to train that day, considering it wouldn't help him earn the blue jacket and become a bona fide Agent Nonpareil. It was necessary to work without it in the days ahead.

One last leg of relatively contrived scenarios, and my rivals become principally the monsters Out There. Hypothetically, anyway.

He finished out his session pushing hard on some dodge-work, already confident he'd squeeze in another Fractional increase on Evasion. An even 3.0 was just too satisfying to pass up. He'd gotten good at predicting it, between monitoring estimates and working the tools of the System to his individual benefit.

Ira congratulated him on his gains, calling him a 'diligent student of destruction.' Laughing at that, Jack called time for lunch, briefly heading to his quarters to shower and change clothes. He had Ira meet him at the primary entrance to the mess hall.

He had to wave to get her attention, as she was staring and caught in wonder at the crowds, the architecture, and the significant scale of the place. That was a lot for an 'alien' to take in, he was sure.

Hell, it was pretty impressive to me the first time.

Ira snapped out of it partially when she met Jack's eyes, quickly clearing her throat and getting 'clinical' again. She nodded to him as she approached, eyes heavy-lidded as she glanced around. "The population levels are surprising, seeing it in person, as is the apparent volume of selections present."

"It's partially because of a free meal credit, admittedly," Jack replied as they walked off to the side a bit to avoid the aggregate flow of people. "But the food is ridiculously good on top of it. I've rarely seen any reason not to eat here or order from here for any given meal, though many close up early. Anyway, I can imagine you want to wander a bit first and observe the many options before deciding." Jack just barely kept the sigh out of his voice. He was ready to eat. Perhaps a snack as he walked would work?

"That would be preferable, yes. Thank you. It would take perhaps weeks to sample everything."

Jack smirked. "We'd better get started, then."

He ended up getting a gingerbread smoothie to satiate his appetite while Ira looked around. It was another suggestion of Lindsay for something that was good when infused. Fruit smoothies generally weren't. Ira was so intrigued by his drink that she had to get one, too, albeit without NPs. When Jack poked her mentally about that, she said she had been taking some, but that her 'cocktail' of needed ingredients was different, so Neex, Memoria, and the researchers had to make a custom tonic of sorts. She ultimately needed very little of it due to low expenditure so far away from her territory.

Ira ultimately got an oversized bento box assortment, unable to resist rice made into little panda faces. Because she couldn't squee out loud due to her cover, she squee'd via their mental connection instead.

"Ahhh! They're so cute, Jack! How wonderful! I took a picture with my eyes."

Jack didn't particularly understand the appeal, considering it was all doomed to digestion, but he had to admit the presentation was superb. Jack went with some chicken alfredo, ensuring Ira got some to try out. She ultimately wasn't a picky eater — she seemed to enjoy everything, albeit in the air of experimentation and 'trying new things.' She probably liked the fish most of all.

After lunch, they split up again, as Jack needed to go to his Law class catch-up session. When Jack left her, Ira was eyeing the shops around the mess hall, clearly intent on eating a bit more. He recommended a few dessert ideas if she was so inclined. He also ultimately decided that the 'tryouts thing' was probably better without her. He could introduce Ira to people later on.

Class was a fairly simple affair as the professor gave a lecture, while instructing Jack to write down questions, after which they did the Q and A and largely wrapped it up. The professor suggested immediate study time, so Jack reluctantly complied, though he cut it short.

With everything else out of the way, Jack made his 'special preparations,' then headed over to Rosenblum Park, now perhaps an hour-and-thirty into Highfive's tryouts. It was high time he came out about his desire to join the crew. He could only hope they hadn't already filled it out.

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Passing by various natural park attractions on the way, Jack made his way through Rosenblum Park to the grass field he'd once played staffball on and first met Highfive. At first, he was following repeated small, arrow-shaped banner signs reading 'TEAM TRYOUTS THIS WAY! CHECK US OUT!' but it used the winding, indirect paved path of the park. Jack knew the shorter way, so he cut across the semi-wilderness instead.

When he arrived, it currently didn't look like much. The grass did have various torn-up sections from recent activity, but there was no indication of ongoing action or 'virtual' overlay. A big square canopy was visible, bright red, as was a tall white banner between two poles that read in stylized red text, 'TEAM HIGH LIFE TRYOUTS!' It was obvious enough that it could be seen from multiple angles of the park's path, though not over the treetops.

Jack grinned at the garish banner and the team name. Everything about it was exceptionally 'Highfivesce.'

Under the tent were a few tables and accoutrements with supplies and refreshments, as well as three people sitting down in folding chairs. Highfive, wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts, had his legs stretched out, both legs and arms crossed, as he seemed to be chatting quietly with a uniformed someone Jack couldn't fully see, both of their backs facing Jack's approach. Meanwhile, Bo was separated from them and ignoring their conversation, while sitting cross-legged in a chair and buried in her phone. She was also in a t-shirt and shorts, in unlikely team solidarity.

Jack deliberately snuck up to overhear what he could before being seen, not clear if it was their newest team member or what. But the chatting was just irrelevant crap about the latest in sports. After a moment of his brain tickling him about the other guy's voice, Jack heard Highfive say 'Homey' and it clicked who it was: Homage. The guy who'd worn a bandana and been a teammate of Jack's during staffball. Jack knew Homage wasn't a student, but a full ANP, if relatively new to the jacket.

Despite his quiet approach, Bo caught him in her peripheral vision and looked up. He waved and she waved back, expression one of faint suspicion.

The other two were deeply engaged in an argument about the best throwback for Amma, apparently a hot topic after some freshman sensation had a stellar, breakout performance and set some records while a junior was injured. It had to be very recent, as Jack was caught up as of even days ago, simply due to Highfive's incessant chatter about such stuff.

Almost right behind them, Jack called loudly, "Yooo! How are things going up in this mug?!"

Both of them jumped, with Highfive even shooting up out of his seat and spinning around in alarm. Bo snorted in amusement, giving a rare glimpse of her smile as she watched Highfive's reaction. It was at this point that Jack noticed their t-shirts: an emblem of a 'thumbs-up' flying through a cloudy blue sky at high speeds, with encircling text declaring 'Team High Life!'

The perfect storm of ridiculousness continues.

"Jack?!" Highfive exclaimed, eyes widening. He soon gave a boisterous laugh and threw his hands wide. "Jack, you're back! Hell yeah!"

"That I am, big guy!"

Highfive rushed around, all smiles, to do their combination handshake and hug, ending with mutual firm double pats on the back that always made Jack cough a bit afterward. Homage grinned at seeing this as he came around more slowly, while Bo just stared blankly for a moment before going back to her phone.

"What are you doing here?!" Highfive asked, face a bit perplexed. "How did you even hear about this? Why didn't you say hi already?! Wait! Riiight. You wanted to surprise me. Nice, bro." He did a little fingergun with a grin. "You got me again, you sonuvabitch."

Jack shrugged in between his handshake and shoulder pat to Homage, muttering amiably to him, "Nice to see you, man." Turning back to Highfive with a smile, he replied, "You know me, Fiver: can't pass up the opportunity to mess with you."

"I'll get your ass back. Count on it."

"I'd expect no less."

"Seriously, though, what brings you here? Come to hang out with us and check out the hopefuls, or are you just stopping by?" Highfive's eyes showed his utter obliviousness.

Jack raised his eyebrows and took a breath.

Bo spoke before he could say anything. "You are such a hopeless himbo, Fiver." She shook her head at him in apparent wonderment.

Jack coughed, and Homage snickered, as Highfive frowned over at her with one fist on his hip.

Meeting Highfive's eyes as they shifted back, Jack smiled and declared in deliberate, growing soberness, "More than that, I must admit, my brother from another mother. In actuality, well, I'm already Level 3.1 and I'm here to try out for Team High Life — if you'll have me."

Highfive was caught in stunned disbelief, his eyes gradually widening and his mouth falling open.