NOVEL NEXT Chapter Three Hundred Seventy Three
By the time we got home, Zeke was already there. He always beat us back, which was fine, but I had other things to address. Questions for Abel, more specifically. "Ok." I said heatedly. "What the actual fuck was that? I mean congrats on the win, but you were really holding back against me that much?"
My mentor was still healing, and I admit I wasn't gentle dropping his ass on the couch from the firemans carry I had him in. He grunted as he hit the cushions, but didn't seem upset about it as he crawled to a sitting position with a chuckle. "Not exactly. My Cicada Stacking Steps is new. I've been working on the technique for the tournament. I had something...kind of like it before. But what you saw from me today was me going all out."
I noticed he dodged the question, but I didn't bother to point it out. "Cicada Stacking Steps? How does that even work?" I had been damned impressed by my mentor's fight, and some of what he pulled off made almost no sense to me.
His grin was proud as he adjusted himself on the couch. Callie, Jessie, and Mel had gone out with Rime to get Enchiladas from the Raving Baby (Abel's favorites). We'd gotten permission from Zeke for a quick trip from the F-ranker into Doomtown, and they should be back soon enough. "Good question. Why not guess?"
Groaning at his insistence on making everything training, I gave my best guess. "Well the actual clones were obviously spatial lubrication. But I'm not sure how you did the rest exactly. Something with manifestations?"
He nodded. "I can manifest any part of me used for Ragam, and at basically any size. Using my legs transitioned it to a full body art. I shed spatial lubrication behind me and then harmonized it with a quick full body manifestation, then used it to stack like my punches do, amplifying my strength multiple times over."
I whistled. I'd figured it was something like that, but the details...the complexity of something like that must be absurd. It wasn't just harmonizing several different instances of power use, but doing it with a Skill that already taxed the soul to the peak of G-rank. Speaking of which. "What happened to Lament by the way? I mean, she lost, so she was out anyway. Did they do anything to her for cheating?"
That drew a snort from my teacher. "Hardly. Like you said, she lost. If she'd beat me they'd have had to fix it, but since she was bounced anyway there was no reason. Plus her Master is a scary old man. Nobody wanted to pick a fight over a dead issue. I didn't throw a fit so why should they?"
"But aren't you..." I searched for the words. "Mad? Disappointed? She almost cost you all your hard work just because she was a sore loser."
He just chuckled, shaking his head. "See, this is why I think the Unity is a bad influence. It doesn't matter. It never mattered. Not just to me, because I wanted the fight to be as hard as possible, but at all. The world isn't about fairness, or hard work. It's about doing what you want. Finding that thing that makes your heart pound. If someone crosses a line it's not an offense, it's an opportunity to leverage them."
Rather than refute him, I sat and thought for a minute. "The way you were fighting..."
An approving nod accompanied his grin. "Exactly. People love to talk about the downsides of being an Ascendant. You have whiny romantics go on and on about losing themselves, and cautious people insisting they hone their force of will to resist recursion, but they ignore the best parts. The parts I love. To be Ascendant is to be a force of nature. A story made flesh. Never ceasing, never ending, even after you die, you don't because stories always live on as long as there are people to tell them."
I gaped at him. I'd never seen him so...philosophical. "But what if you DO lose yourself? Who you are? Giving so many people control of you is just..."
"But you aren't!" He said passionately. "Renown is reactive, not active. It's a response. You're the one throwing the stone in the pool, creating the ripples. Your destiny is all on you. It can be hard to keep complete control, but it's still you driving. It's a snowball, kid, the more you show the world the person you want to be seen as, the more they push you to that ideal. You're the author of your own story."
I groaned in exasperation. "So what? What does that have to do with your fight? With how self destructive you were being?"
"Because." He said like it was obvious. "The story I was telling is one of overwhelming power. And you can't have overwhelming power without something to overwhelm. The blood, the injuries, the pain, they paved the road I wanted everyone to walk down, showed them my journey in a way deeper than words. They walked my path with me, and because of that, they'll REMEMBER it."
Which I couldn't argue, really. He'd left a hell of an impression. "But is it like that everywhere? Is that the new standard? Will I need to watch Callie bleed like that? Hurt like that?" I could take the pain, it would suck but half the problem with injury was wondering if it would be the end of you, and with my abilities I'd be fine. But seeing Callie like that, hurting, tearing herself apart like an animal gnawing off its arm to escape a trap. It made me sick to think about it.
"Honestly. Probably not." He said, to my surprise. At my cocked head he laughed. "There are more types of stories than stars in the sky, kid. Callie is a sneaky type. People like that walk a fine line. Gotta be scary enough to build a rep, but being all blatant and violent like me is counterproductive. Sneaky people aren't supposed to get pumped full of holes and get up. They're supposed to be a maybe, to be a whisper that may or may not be true. It's a safer life, but a much more ruthless one in some ways."
That was surprisingly insightful, but I could tell from his drifting attention he'd said all he really wanted to say. So I changed topic. "Well, fair enough. Speaking of safety, are you going to be ok to fight in the finals? They gave us three days, but your wounds were from an F-ranker. That's a pretty nasty thing to heal." I gestured to the multiple holes still closing up.
The healing energy had prioritized the worst injuries because of the inclusion of a scan heal in my patch job, which upside meant he would be fine, but downside meant that there were still plenty of non vital spots that were the human equivalent of swiss cheese.
"I'm fine." He said with a casual wave. "Plus we have full time access to one of the best G-rank healers on this planet. Jessie already has a higher Vitality than most F-rankers start with, she can help patch me up with plenty of time to spare. Even if she doesn't feel like it, I've fought hurt before. I'll be there."
Seeing how little the idea bothered him brought me back to his little speech earlier. About making yourself who you wanted to be. Abel had been trudging forward without flinching for decades, this was definitely a result of that, and the idea of that kind of determination shaping who I was...it was kind of nice.
It was also an angle people like Zeke wouldn't even consider talking to me about. Zeke had been living it for longer than I'd been alive, probably MUCH longer. It would be like trying to give someone breathing advice. The downsides of being an Ascendant would be obvious, but not this particular aspect of things.
My thoughts were interrupted as the front door slammed shut. "We're home!" Called Callie. We got up to head to the kitchen, me giving Abel my shoulder for help and him ignoring it. I smirked a bit at how stubborn he was, but I kind of respected it.
In the kitchen, Callie was coming in with several containers of Enchiladas. She started setting them down as Rime and Jessie came in. Benny, who had been off with Celine, came in after, clearly summoned to help carry things in. Cass came running through the door with Cark and Zeke. The little girl sniffed the air. "That smells so good!" She crowed. "What is it? I want seconds!"
Callie giggled at the girl's appetite while Jessie set down the containers (metallic foil trays with crimped folding tops) and scooped her up to get her out of the way. Cass squealed in surprise and joy as Jessie carried her out of the room to go watch cartoons again.
We all chuckled, and Mel dragged Abel to the table, fussing over her boyfriend. "Sit down you insufferable idiot. We got your favorite, so park your ass and eat it before we decide to feed it to dogs. I bet they would love some enchiladas." Her voice was brusque, but the worry in it was clear, and Abel obviously got that too, since he gave her a solemn look and then sat with a nod.
It was weird to see her so worried about him, given what he could do, but then, I could do plenty, and Callie still worried about me. I guessed it wasn't often someone you loved fought an F-ranked Master Candidate. The rest of us crowded around the counter once they got Abel his food, Jessie coming back in with Cass (though with was a bit of an overstatement, it was more like she got dragged) and we all sat at the table to eat.
Abel, of course, had a stack of trays next to him with dozens of the damned things in there, which I was assured would not only be delicious, but help him fuel the energy burn of Jessie spamming her power on him for days. Jessie's power supercharged the body, but it still USED the body. Short term it acted like healing and a pure energy boost, but long term it needed nutrients to work with.
We sat around, stuffing out faces and enjoying the food, listening to Cass talk about her day at home, and I had to admit...it was nice. I'd expected to be a bit bitter about losing to him, but honestly seeing him so happy and feeling like part of the winning team washed any of that away. I'd never have won, I had known it deep down, even if I wanted it desperately. This though, this was better. Friends. Family.
Eating, laughing, spending time together, this was a damn good result for the tournament, and even if he didn't win the finals, this whole thing would have been worth it. It made us stronger, brought us together, showed us who we were. I could see why these things were so common, there was a lot to be said about learning from combat. Looking back the way Abel and I had come, I considered the next round.
The finals. The last thing he needed to get past to make this work. It wouldn't be easy, but at this point...I almost didn't feel the pressure. As a part of the team of course. I wasn't the one fighting, but even this round I had felt a drive for him to win. Now though...we made it to the end. If we fumbled here life would go on. I shook the thought away, tucking back into my Enchiladas as Cass started telling Callie all about how the main character in her cartoon had just gotten a power up. Like I'd said, it was all worth it.