Shaper of Metal Post-Apoc Progression LitRPG

After keeping Bo from stabbing Highfive with a pen, righting the tent, enduring more congratulations, and finally putting on the new t-shirt for Team High Life, the three teammates took a seat together. Homage had to run, so they gave quick farewells, and Jack thanked him before he literally went jogging away.

"If we don't get more applicants in the next hour," Highfive mused, "we could use or save the field time for training."

"Did you have any decent tryouts before I showed up?" Jack asked.

"Nah." He sighed. "Being just two sucks. One with something too non-combat who needs to just accept they can't earn the jacket… And then another couple of cadets too young and green. I gave them some pointers and sent them on their way. Then one yahoo showed up with a crew to try and mock us."

"Good thing Homage was here," Bo said with a glare for Highfive, "or this gorilla would've done something stupid, just like they wanted. They half baited him into a four-on-one in the field, which would've been a waste of time and energy. Homage shamed and berated them into leaving."

Highfive scoffed. "Would've been good training. Hell, I could probably take them."

Bo rolled her eyes. "Bullshit, Fiver."

"Sounds like reportable conduct," Jack said.

Bo regarded Jack unblinkingly. "We don't tattle over ticky-tack shit. Words are words. It's not like they'll come down hard on Nons over it. A waste of time and breath."

Highfive's chair was flipped around, and he leaned down over it toward Jack conspiratorily. "You think Memoria wants us whining to authority over psych attacks, or instead taking our licks and doing the same shit ourselves?" He shrugged. "The way I see it, we aren't professionals until we pass the grade. For now, we have a bunch of asshole competition, and we don't know what the brass is grading us on. Probably everything."

Bo stared at Highfive in amazement. "Wow, that's the smartest observation you've ever made and articulated. Are you finally evolving to a higher lifeform?"

Highfive scrunched up his nose and mimed her mockingly in a high-pitched voice, contorting words into nonsense. "Are ye finly evevin ta heehee li fo?" Glaring at her a while longer, he scoffed and turned to Jack, eyes widening in silent exasperation.

Jack snorted and declared, "So this 'friendly competition' isn't always so friendly. Got it."

"Uh-huh. So… We gotta do all the power reveals now, and figure out some basic roles and interactions. I know seeing is believing when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, but we can go over the basics. I'm as basic as it gets for a Bruiser. I'm strong offensively up close, I can charge into combat, I've good speed, and great speed in short bursts. Defensively, I have basic Armor for nearly anything, but am only as good as a Guardian against common, blunt trauma, which I can take all day, slugging it out with the best of 'em."

Highfive was in his element discussing powers, eyes flicking around without focusing, leg shaking continuously, as he dropped the intel like conversational rote. "I'm in the middle of the road against burning-type energy attacks and stuff like that, because my sheath will absorb it, but it'll also possibly weaken and reduce it, so it's a mixed bag. Other types of physical attacks still have to break through the protection, but anything concentrated has it way easier — piercing type shit, and even narrow cutting or, uh… laceration effects. Swords, knives, air slices, whatever, they have it easier than anything."

"Aside from raw Degeneration or Brain Trauma," Bo added. "That'll bypass everything you've got."

Highfive nodded and sighed. "Yeah, like anyone that isn't a Metamorphic tank, degen is my bane, bro…"

"You mean like Delight?" Jack asked with a smirk.

Bo snorted.

Highfive, meanwhile, frowned in confusion and shook his head. "Nah, she's some whole other thing, which is why Memoria-"

"I was kidding, Blondy," Jack interrupted, chuckling. "I mean, she's a sexual deviant. A degenerate."

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it?" Bo asked.

As Jack shrugged, Highfive suddenly burst into laughter and pointed. "Ohhh! Right! Yeah, good one, haha. Actually, hopefully that's a filled-in weakness learning from too many mistakes."

"A himbo like you? Keep dreaming. Thank the Mother that Jack isn't a hot maiden."

"Regardless if Jack is or isn't a hot maiden," — mid-sentence, Jack raised his hand and called, "Not a maiden, dude!" — "let's get back on track, huh? Degen and psychic attacks bypass my Armor, but they're not usually like a big hammer or energy blast hitting you with high power all at once, so they can be endured, or even healed — if you're lucky enough to have one of those rare ducks around. Aside from that, Bo hates doing it, but she can go defensive and counter that shit."

"I'd prefer focusing on someone like that as the group target, so my finite energy isn't wasted on not taking someone out." She glanced at Jack. "So far, we seem to be a very versatile offensive team, so I'm going to be even more of an advocate of this strategy if it comes up. And it probably will. I know of at least two cornerstone soft damage dealers of this nature."

Highfive shrugged. "I can handle Velvet since the degen is physical and will just degrade my Armor first, but we're fragged if we fight Snapper's team, and I doubt we will. They'll win every match. More than likely, they don't even need more battles. Everyone knows they'll graduate."

"Hubris is a weakness, too, Fiver — you should know that better than anyone. It doesn't matter if they're already graduate material; they could get tapped for an up-and-comer they haven't faced. Are you seriously gonna have this punkass attitude if we fight them?"

Highfive frowned and scratched his neck. "I'll always fight with my all, you know that. But obvious is obvious."

"What's so great about Snapper's team, then?" Jack had to ask.

"Blaster, Guardian, Catalyst. The offense dream. The fourth is a versatile Acrobat, something like a more offensive version of a Bruiser. Sometimes, all she has to do is help protect the support while she buffs Snapper's offense. It's a nightmare. Feels like a cheat. At least they don't have healing — not that they need it."

"Snapper can even find you at a distance, without line-of-sight," Bo said. "He creates harmonics, finds your particular 'tune' through trial and error until he starts ripping it apart. You have to go to them, and then you have to get through their tank, Thread Bear. Thread. Bear. As in a bear." Her perfectly blank expression showed what she thought of that.

Jack burst out laughing. "Incredible. Is he really a bear? How have I not seen this person?"

Highfive laughed too, but shook his head. "He can shape himself if he wants. Bullshit metamorphs, bro. But I guess the word is more, uhhh, symbolic? Than literal."

"He's another Wall-of-Ooze," Bo said, "though only functionally. Not the other issue. He could stay as a bundle of yarn or whatever forever if he wanted, but doesn't — I'd think so that he doesn't get stuck, but you know that story. He's actually a very introverted person, despite the moronic name."

"Wait," Jack said, sitting up. "What story, what issue?"

"Ah. You wouldn't necessarily know, would you? You're even newer than I am. Ooze stayed as ooze for so long, he became unable to 'go human' anymore. It's not a System affliction in this case, but some kind of unalterable psychosomatic thing. We know because he's an open book. Has journals above a fairly low clearance. He wants to get it fully publicized, but it might not be possible with the edits necessary, without gutting it too much."

"Wow. I guess that makes sense. Chromey transformed back and forth despite a long life. I just figured Ooze had a side-effect like I see sometimes."

"It does happen. Ooze is just a different case."

Jack nodded slowly as he observed Bo. Already, she was more animated and talking more freely than she was before. If I didn't know any better, she almost seems excited about her new teammate. Hehe.

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"Anyway," Highfive said, "Thread Bear blocks, annoys, and ties others down while a buffed Snapper whittles through combatants one by one, and the last member is on quick interception. Good example of a whole team synergizing. To win, a team would usually need an unavoidable damage source like them."

"Like Threshold."

"Yeah, but they did fight, and she lost. I saw that match, remember? That's why I say they're the best of the best of the best right now."

"That's a lot of bests," Jack muttered. "So, they record matches?"

"Yes and no," Bo said. "There's a policy against access except in certain secure locations, and only by the two teams and high clearance superiors. Usually. But you can witness it live, and you should do so for as many as you can schedule."

"Actually, you two know an awful lot. Hope that doesn't make me a liability."

"I'm betting on us coasting on your Beginner's Luck," Bo replied.

Jack smiled faintly. "So, Bo, you can screw with damn near anything, then?"

"Pretty much. So you know, I've been keeping what I actually target secret since I started, to reduce the chance of countermeasures. Some have largely figured it out, but not all, and it isn't just totally public out there. I still won't verbalize it. I will say it's damn near impossible to avoid without specialists. Or certain types of stealth — I can't throw a monkey wrench in what I can't detect."

"Most teams will try to soak it," Highfive added, "or target her right off and overwhelm her. Depends on their focus and strategy."

"If we can strike first, I can set whoever our target is up. To weaken, interfere, or even disable right as they get bombed. You two are good combined offense, I think, with Fiver able to absorb the counterattack and Jack further back with me, able to switch between offense and defense."

"That's similar to what we did with Lighthouse. She could blow people to hell if they were unable to move away. Not even all Guardians want to tank her lightning bolts if at full strength."

"So that's what she does, huh?" Jack asked, grinning. "She said her name is because she can be seen coming from a mile away."

"Right. Full-strength, it comes from above and lights up the ground, causing a charge in the air you can feel. Her weaker strikes are a little more versatile, but any jackass can dodge her full-strength attacks. If they don't, or can't? They're straight fragged, bro."

"Whoa," Jack exclaimed, visualizing them working together. "And I'm a Controller that uses metal to bind people…"

Highfive laughed. "Too bad she already graduated, huh?"

Bo had a mild frown on her face for a moment before it cleared, and she shook her head. "Our fourth was an Energetic Guardian that edged more toward a Medic, buffing the whole team defensively with auras, if kept in a certain radius. It interacted perfectly with Fiver's nimbus, making him into a super tank. It should've been impossible to deal with us, but we had some frustrating losses. I would get wiped first, and those two" — she nodded her head at Highfive — "bumped heads too much, with Lighthouse barely keeping things from imploding. Maybe if-"

Highfive was shaking his head as Bo went on, and he finally waved his hands and interrupted. "Alright, alright! He was an asshole, I was an asshole, and we didn't get along in the end. We tried, okay? Let's just drop it." But one breath later, he scoffed audibly and continued. "You think I would've cut off all contact with everyone, though? If I graduated and you didn't? He fraggin' disowned us, Bo. Even Lighthouse gave up trying with him. So, I think we know the bigger asshole out of the two. I'd forgive and forget, even now."

Bo's lips twisted sideways as she looked away. "Dropping it sounds great."

Jack kept his peace at that particular sore spot, though he was getting more context on the circumstances that led to them being held back. Drama. That was at least part of it. I'll try to be the No Drama guy. "So, do we want another defensive buffer, then?"

Bo met his eyes and said, "Good luck with that. Not exactly the type begging around for a team."

"Honestly, I don't want that anyway," Highfive said. "Beggers can't be choosers, but the ideal would be an offensive buffer."

"For once, we agree."

"Half the reason I'm saying it is so you get to show off, Bo. Like I've told you, dude, I do learn eventually. You were underutilized. No one should end up as the sacrificial lamb. We've gotta be better than that. We want to all graduate together."

"It's too late to fix old mistakes. As for us, beggars can't be choosers, like you just said. I'm not going to change my outlook from what it always has been: winning at any cost. I'll do whatever I have to for the cause, including getting smoked, if need be. Team first. Always."

Jack couldn't just let that lie. "If that's your philosophy, there's a big problem. You should wind it back. Seriously."

Bo turned and glared at him, narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Sacrifice can't be the plan. You're simulating being suicidal. Sometimes, everything falls apart, and you have no choice, but it's defeatist to have that philosophy going in. To the brass, it probably seems gamist and immature in these contests. Say you get creamed in the field, but not quite dead. Captured. Now you'll endanger everyone who would rip through hell to save you. So the question goes, could that have been prevented? A better philosophy for the brass is to always aim for total victory without losses. Balance around that strategy. That's what any mission will be designed to do. Memoria risks her children while biting her nails; she doesn't send them out expecting them to die."

Bo continued staring at him. Highfive looked like he wanted to say something, maybe something smart, but he wisely swallowed it.

Jack cleared his throat and asked, "How are Snapper's team wins achieved? With losses?"

Bo didn't immediately answer, but finally shook her head slightly. "None. But they…" She trailed off.

"They have a strong team, yes. Maybe the strongest. But the philosophy doesn't change regardless of strength. I bet you'll see that in other graduating teams. After all, this isn't a tournament. It's not a video game, it's not a fight to the death. It's just a test. A test of teamwork, power synergy, overcoming unique challenges in the field, and all that good stuff. We should aim to pass these elements more than simply winning. Winning is just a bonus in the execution."

Bo was looking away, but she took a breath and met his eyes again, giving a nod. "I'll meditate on this."

Jack nodded respectfully. "Of course. That's all I ask. Team-wise, if you're getting targeted, we need to adjust to use that, but not lose you in the process, not even if we get one of theirs. That's my take, anyway."

After a few moments, Highfive grinned at Jack and said, "Hey, you were a pilot, right?"

"Yep. Cargo and people. VTOL tiltrotor by the end of my service."

"All pilots are officers."

"Right. That's the way it works. I was Tertiary Lieutenant for a while, then got bumped to Secondary and operated as that for a good while." Technically, he was bumped higher before discharge, but with the restrictions against field work, it was pyrrhic to him. He never operated beyond Secondary Lieutenant. Being crammed in quarantine and getting 'processed' by Psyche definitely didn't count as active duty in his book.

"So, you were an earned officer in the field while we were in here training and dueling as cadets."

"Sure. What's your point, then?"

Highfive took a breath as his eyes flickered, part shrugging and part grinning, but didn't quite cough up an answer.

Bo answered for him. "I think the blockhead is trying to say you're a natural leader. Without powers, Highfive would be a sportsball athlete with even less brains, and I'd be in a gutter or something. Without powers, you were still an officer."

"Hey, a throwback isn't a brainless role," Highfive said defensively.

Jack scratched his chin. Sadly, there was no stubble there. "Well, every ANP is an officer, too, and then has the nigh-transcendant Agentus authority on top of it. And then they have the worship-like, unspoken respect of being Memoria's blessed children and all that…"

Both Bo and Highfive rolled their eyes.

Highfive replied, "Sure, man, but we aren't even bona fide ANPs yet, and most of us don't have boots on the ground officer experience."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "So, what, you're trying to say I outrank you? When you answer, I wanna hear, 'Sir, yes, sir,' by the way. You too, Bo."

"You can fragass forget that," Bo said with acidic sass.

Highfive chuckled. "You might not be able to pull off shotcaller immediately, Jack — since you don't know enough about this brand of team ball — but I got a feeling you'll get there."

It wasn't lost on Jack the gravity of what he was admitting, even if, like most military, ANP cadets were trained on the necessity of sudden leadership changes. He sat back and crossed his arms, taking a breath and looking over at Bo curiously.

Bo gave a reluctant, exaggerated shrug, almost rolling her eyes again. "I've got zero interest in being a leader."

Highfive smirked at her. "Even though you're Miss Bossy Pants all the time?"

"Consider it long-form irony in Light's absence. Otherwise, I won't hold my tongue if there is a useful observation to make."

"Believe it or not, your observations aren't always useful."

"Okay, useful or entertaining to me. It's up to you to discern the difference." A pause. "And it's not all the time, Fiver."

"Riiiight…"

"You're bossy about physical conditioning."

"That's different!"

"Riiiight…"

After enjoying their banter with silent amusement, Jack finally replied, "Well, we'll just have to see, huh? I admit to being open to the idea, and am happy to serve however is best for the team."

"For the team to win, you mean?" Bo asked, with a hint of irony.

Jack gave her a wry grin. "Firstly, to survive; secondly, to pass grade; thirdly, to win, in that order. In the field, passing and winning are simply replaced with mission execution."

"I suppose it isn't rocket science."

"Well, it's easier said than done, right? That's why it's a philosophy. You have to keep your head when you're in the storm, and complications, even mistakes, can't change your method of approach. The path to victory mutates, but the human spirit that walks it is iron. Not my words, by the way — that's General Jing."

As Bo nodded silently, Highfive looked around, then hopped up and clapped his hands. "Alright! Enough talk. More hopefuls aren't likely to come, and if they do, they won't catch us sitting on our hands, eh? Let's train!"