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Book I: Stage 4: Arrivals & Departures Arc 5.1

  Stage 4: Arrivals & Departures Arc 5.1

  Sunday, February 28th, 2010

  "Gol durn, this kid's beat up mighty bad…"

  Those are the first coherent words I manage to make out. I'm surrounded by a sea of blurry faces.

  "Where's Doc Stanton?" some male voice says.

  "Not here today," replies a female.

  "He needs an ambulance," A bearded blurry faced man in a grey suit says.

  "What happen to 'im?" a teenager, young, blonde and short asks from the back.

  "Boy's missin' two fingers'," a man in a blue suit says. I can see better now. I'm being moved.

  "Fetch Mrs. Johnson, she's a nurse," the man in the grey suit speaks again.

  "I gots the first aid kit," exclaims a young man in black hair and blue eyes. He bends down and opens a box.

  "Did somebody call 911?" an unseen voice asks from the back of the crowd.

  "I'm here... holy shit-- , sorry reverend… this kid's in shock, he needs an ER fast." A large woman in a fancy Sunday hat says after pushing her way through and examining me.

  "That's quite alright under the circumstances, let's all pray for this lost child," a tall elderly man in a brown suit says, before stepping back and leading a group of mumbling voices.

  "It'll take near half an hour for an ambulance to get way out here," exclaims another man, in simple clothes, white button shirt and blue jeans. I move my mouth, it's dry, and words do not form.

  "We can't wait that long," says the hat lady.

  "I'll get my truck," the casual clothes man says before departing. Even attempts to clear my throat fail.

  "I got his hand wrapped up but his finger's all blackish…" The black haired young man says. I try to speak again, I have to warn them about the nine. I'm being carried through a parking lot.

  "He's trying to say something," one of the people carrying me says. I can't see them. My vision is getting blurry again.

  "Can't make it out… careful now don't let his head hit the door," a blurry face carrying me says.

  "Lay 'im out on the back seat, yeah… Betty you ridin' along?" an unseen voice asks.

  "Yessiree, ho, he's hotter than Hades," the blurry hat lady exclaims. I close my eyes again, as she holds my head.

  "Call the Sheriff, tell him we're gonna be hauling fast down the road, they all got plowed right?" Unseen voices continue to speak.

  "I did, he'll meet ya, and escort you to Bath…" I can barely make out a few close voices among mumbles in the background.

  "They're clear, I came that way on my way to service," a disembodied voice says before I hear the churn of a car engine starting.

  "Hang in there kid…" a woman's voice says, sounding low and stretched out.

  ****?

  "Is this the John Doe that got called in?" A new strange voice says from a blurry face under bright lights and a white ceiling.

  "Yeah, sepsis, severe fever, missing two fingers, one badly infected, broken hand, looks like he might have some broken ribs here too based on the bruising," An unseen female voice exclaims. Where am I now?

  "Got a problem, can't get an IV in him." I turn my head toward the third voice. Blurry shapes tell me a man is manipulating my arm.

  "Can't find the vein?" This first voice asks. I turn my head back but it's too slow and I can't see him.

  "No, tried multiple spots. Needle won't go further than skin-deep..."

  "1608?" I've heard that number before. Why is it familiar?

  "Starting to think so, whatever beat him up, could have…" The voice of the man at my arm says. I'm being moved into a bed. The nine, I have to warn them. The bright lights above me though just go in and out of focus.

  "Heavy needle then…"

  I fail to find words, and close my eyes again to keep out the bright light.

  "Still no go, same problem."

  "I'm calling 1608; we need to get antibiotics into this kid's bloodstream STAT"

  "How's the hand?"

  The question jolts me out of drifting off. The Siberian bit my fingers off. I have to warn them.

  "Severe bruising around wrist; multiple fractured metacarpals, severe necrosis on fourth finger. It will need amputation of what's left of the intermediate phalange. Complete loss of fifth finger, infection at wound, minimal necrosis. Severed tip at end of third finger, distal phalange intact, nail bed intact, minor infection, no necrosis," a new voice says.

  "Right, his hand is messed up. You don’t need to impress your med school professor here, resident. Hydraulic Brute needle is set up."

  I force my eyes open, and move my mouth, but no sound comes out.

  "Hey kid's conscious…"

  "Hey, stay calm, you're in a hospital. We're going to take care of you."

  I try to turn toward the woman that spoke to me, her face is still blurry. She looks over me from behind my head. I'm lying on my back.

  "Eyes are unfocused…" she says in response.

  "Slaught---" I manage to force words out. My words are dry and harsh; a foul taste is in my mouth.

  "What's he saying?" a blurry faced man asks the woman behind me.

  "Got signs of head trauma. Massive knot on the back of his head, some scalp lacerations, possible concussion."

  "Slaughter haa---"I fight off the desire to drift off again, and force words out.

  "Tier I psi on brute needle is no go, trying Tier II."

  Brute needle? Not important, I have to warn them.

  "Stripped and cleaned, massive bruising on front torso, multiple fractured ribs, possible bruised internals; schedule X-Rays and CT."

  "Slaughterhouse!" I manage to scream, the effort takes the wind out of me. No it doesn't, my stamina is still full. It's hard to get my interface out of the way though. What the hell is wrong?

  "We need an IV in him before anything else. Tier II on needle is no go, trying Tier III. Get the alien probe ready in case that doesn't work either."

  Alien Probe? What the hell is that? Focus, I have to warn them. And Chela! I have to get help for Chela.

  "Wait, did he just say Slaughterhouse?"

  "Tier III is no go, flip him over."

  I'm manhandled and flipped over onto my stomach on the bed. I turn my head to be free to speak, but someone has already done that for me. "Slaughterhouse Nine…" I eke out far quieter than I planned.

  "Shit, did I hear that right?" the woman's voice asks.

  I have to say more, but it's a struggle. "Slaughterhouse nine at campgrounds," I say, louder this time.

  "Fuck, hit the intercom, call the PRT. Contact PRT, Priority Alpha!" An authoritative voice from somewhere in the back says.

  *crackle* "We just did…" the distorted voice of an intercom sounds. I shudder at the memory of the intercoms in Jack's murder house. I'm not in there though, everything is white, and there are machines and curtains.

  "Call again, escalates priority Alpha. We are under quarantine."

  *crackle* "We're still receiving rescues and first responder injuries from the dam breach Friday!" I flinch at the intercom again and close my eyes.

  "Jesus, fuck, uhh…Brute 3 restraints ready."

  "Redirect them! Start quarantine and lock down procedures now," the authoritative voice yells again.

  "Okay, kid, this is going to be uncomfortable as hell, but don't thrash, we have to get medicine in you somehow."

  They're doing something behind me and I feel a cold draft and cool metal on my backside.

  "Non-essentials clear the room."

  *crackle* "Done, much of the Protectorate is still in Mexico cleaning up after Behemoth."

  I shudder again, feeling uncomfortable. No not Behemoth, the Nine, I have to tell them about the Nine.

  "Room is clear"

  "Snake up the chute..."

  I think I just soiled myself, but I still feel like I need to go to the bathroom badly, but I have to warn them first. I inhale sharply to try and yell again. "Slaughterho--- urk!!" What the fuck was…that…oh…those…are…drugs…

  ****?

  I open my eyes. I'm on a white sheeted bed, lying spread eagle on my stomach. I have this horrible feeling of being violated. There is something on my face. There's no pillow, but there's metal railings. I see that my right arm is restrained to the railing along my forearm. A pull on my left arm, even though my head isn't turned that way, indicates it's restrained too. What the fuck? I try to move but my feet and legs are restrained as well.

  I hear a clicking noise then a female voice. "John Doe Six is awake."

  "What the hell?" I manage to utter.

  "Please don't move. You'll damage the medical equipment currently keeping you alive." The voice tells me, but she is out of my view at the moment. I switch to my free camera mode.

  Oh, fuck this, this is just wrong. I mean I'm glad I'm in a hospital and all, but what the fuck is shoved up my ass? Observe.

  Jesus, really, they couldn't just use an IV? The memory of Bonesaw saying her needles only went skin deep returns to me. No, no they probably couldn't.

  "Oh holy fuck, my everything hurts. Alright I won't move. But are the restraints really necessary?" More Observe tells me they are brute restraints, rated for Brute 3 at the minimum. Yeah I'm tough but not super-strong, no chance I will get out of them, except for maybe the inventory trick, but, Chela….

  "We couldn't take the chance of you waking up or moving while unconscious and causing yourself more damage. I've notified your primary Doctor that you're awake. If you can bear with us a while longer, we'll see what we can do. Is there anyone you need us to contact?"

  While the woman is speaking I get a better overall look with my camera, I see there is a domino mask on my face. I'm wearing a hospital gown, its back is wide open. I'm in a room by myself. There's an obvious camera in the ceiling, and an intercom on the wall. There's a machine at the foot of the bed with IV bags hanging from it and a slow pump, and a tube snaked up my… Yeah moving on, an Observe on the building tells me I'm in Bath Community Hospital. Well that's a relief at least. I'm back in civilization and under medical care.

  "No, there's no one I want you to contact." I answer before too much time passes.

  "While you were being treated after being brought in, you mentioned the Slaughterhouse Nine. Do you feel comfortable describing your encounter with them? Were they the cause of your injuries?"

  I check my relationship sheet, Chela is still present; so is the pending quest condition. There are a lot of other pending notifications as well. I open them up and start going through them while I answer.

  "Yeah, they were. Comfortable? Fuck no, but I can. The Nine had decimated the town of Fallen Spring, when a bus I was on rolled into it. They captured everyone on the bus. Me and one other were the only survivors. The last I saw of them was near a campground by a lake and a dam. I don't recall the names, but if you give me a moment I can fi--, try to remember them. Then I was lost in the woods for a while before I found people again. Uh, what's the time and date?"

  You are suffering from the Status Effect 'Fainted'

  The Status Effect 'Fainted' has been replaced with the Status Effect 'Unconscious'

  The Status Effect 'Unconscious' has been removed

  You are suffering from the Status Effect 'Unconscious'

  +550 XP, Quest 'You're going to need a bigger needle' completed

  So was that quest just in regard to my hand, or the infection?

  "It's 6:32pm, Sunday February 28th. Was it Lake Moomaw and Gathright Dam?"

  You have gained a level! You are now level 26

  Your Disease Resistance skill has increased by 1

  The Status Effect 'Unconscious' has been removed

  -1 HP (24 Resisted)

  -26 HP (24 Resisted)

  You are suffering from the Status Effect 'Violated up the wrong way'

  You are suffering from the Status Effect 'Unconscious'

  Damn, I was in the forest for a couple days. The sun was high in the sky when I stumbled onto that church; I've been out a while. "Yes, that was it. How did you know?"

  Your Drug & Poison Resistance skill has increased by 1

  Your Disease Resistance skill has increased by 1

  The Status Effect 'Severely Infected Wound' has been downgraded to 'Infected Wound'

  The Status Effect 'Sepsis' has been removed

  The Status Effect 'Unconscious' has been removed

  "They were first reported near that area Friday morning, just before the dam was breached causing massive flooding. We suspect they may have done it deliberately to aid in their retreat from the area."

  That was all my notifications. I sent my camera out of the room. I'm in isolation in the infectious diseases ward? Why?

  "Retreat? So they're still running around out there?" Of course they are. I would have gotten a notice that they had been removed from my relationship sheet if someone had ganked them.

  There was a long pause before the woman responded. "Unfortunately, yes. Behemoth attacked Mexico that same day. The battle lasted all day, and much of the protectorate is still out of the country aiding cleanup efforts. The breach did as they intended, tied up emergency services, and made the flooded areas difficult to access to track them down. The waters still haven't receded yet in some areas."

  Really? Now's not the time. I dismiss the quest and keep snooping with my free camera. Thankfully the mental commands update makes this much easier. Not only am I in the infectious disease ward, but also under quarantine, why? I retreat my camera back into my room, but I miss something she said.

  "What did you just say again?"

  "I said it would be very useful if you can provide as detailed an account as you are comfortably able, regarding what you witnessed of them. You do seem remarkably calm given the obvious trauma you have gone through."

  I grimace, but the room camera isn't pointed at my face. I make sure my Speech skill is active. I want those fuckers killed, the sooner the better, so I know they need intel, but I need to make sure I get what I need. "Well, I'm fucking not calm. Don't mistake my outward appearance or voice as a reflection of my current inner state. I can, however, give you a very, very detailed report of all of the sick twisted shit that they did before I got away. But I want several things first." I pause to collect my thoughts; I can speak while roaming my camera.

  "First, these restraints aren't necessary. Actually, no, that's second. First I want this thing removed from my asshole as soon as possible. Third, I'm really damn hungry. All I had to eat and drink for the last few days when I was lost in the forest was a skinny rabbit, some moss, weeds, and melted snow. "

  Well I think I found her, the PRT name tag is a giveaway. Observe.

  "Those are all reasonable request, though I'm told by the medical staff, that's currently—"

  "I wasn't finished." Holy shit those are a lot of skills and perks I've never even seen before. Like, pages worth of skills at least. Why so many? This is the first time I have observed someone since reaching level 25. That's a hell of a lot more that I have in my list, but why are there no level numbers next to them? Actually I haven't mirror observed myself since getting level 25 either. Oh and I can see scores for INT and WIS now, and Stress Points.

  "Um, yes? What else did you need?"

  "Sorry, I got—have to collect my thoughts. I mentioned there was another survivor." Yeah don't say you got distracted. You're tied to a bed, what would you be distracted by? "You know, I'd have put survivor in air quotes if my hands weren't restrained. Well, another aspect of my power, because I can feel the mask on my face so you obviously know about that, is that I can put objects and people into stasis. The other survivor, a teenage girl, is on the brink of death. As in, if I take her out she could die in minutes. And I won't do so unless, at the minimum, it's onto an operating table with a team of fully-equipped trauma surgeons ready to go. An on-hand Parahuman healer would be even better, if any exists. Tell me some exist?"

  "I see, I'll have to look into that and see what arrangements could be made."

  "Oh, and I can't take her out while bound and with this thing shoved up my bum-hole. So there's that problem, and the fact that she's been in stasis for a few days now, and I have no idea how long I can keep her like that or what effect that will have on her as I've never done that to a person before, but it was either that or watch her die in front of me. So taking some decisive action with all due haste would be really, really, appreciated."

  "Uh, yes, we... I concur. A doctor should be coming in to see you shortly."

  She accidentally said ‘we’ there. Observe. Yep, there's active communication on the radio ear-piece. Probably talking to superiors? I doubt a junior analyst has any real authority to do anything. "Oh and maybe introduce yourself? I assume you're PRT, I guess hospitals have procedures for these kinds of events, but it would be nice to see a face and some ID for myself."

  "Right, and you are correct. My name is Sara Clark, I'm the PRT liaison assigned to come to this hospital when your arrival was reported this afternoon." So at least she's honest about that part. "Sorry there is no window to your room or I'd be happy to try to say hello. Do you have a cape name you wished to be called by?"

  "Ha, no I don't. Not all Parahumans run around in a costume trying to get into fights you know. But, um, let's see. I store stuff, Cache?" There was a moment of silence. She was probably conferring with whoever was on the other end of the radio.

  "Actually that name appears to be taken. Is there something else?"

  "Stasis?"

  "That's available. We could register it for you. That does seem an odd power to be paired with a brute ability. As soon as you are capable, can you demonstrate it?"

  Okay, how the hell do I explain that away. "I'm not really a brute. I'm not super strong so these things are pointless. It's weird dimensional fuckery because I put stuff into myself. So that apparently creates some kind of weird skin deep wall barrier, and I have no god-damn idea how that works, or how this weird uncomfortable thing up my ass works when an IV wouldn't. Also, why the hell is super strength and durability lumped into the same classification anyway? They are very much not the same thing. It's idiotic. Is the doctor on his or her way yet? This is getting really aggravating."

  "You're not the only person that has complained about the drawbacks of the current classification system."

  Sara Clark has gone from stranger to acquaintance.

  Hell yeah, I scored some points on that one. I turn my head as the door opens. A black haired man with a goatee and glasses in a fucking grey and orange bio-hazard suit walks in.

  "What the holy fuck? Gordon Freeman?"

  "No, I'm Doctor Sorenson."

  "You're scaring me doc, what's with the get-up?"

  "It's a precaution. You interacted with the nine. That means you interacted with Bonesaw. We don't take any chances there, but so far nothing has manifested, with you or those who treated you. When we get the all clear we can move you to a less restricted room."

  "Doesn't the PRT have thinkers that can assess that stuff? She didn't plague me."

  "We do," Sara cut in over the intercom, "and they are still assessing the situation."

  "Are you a thinker? How would you know if she did? You did come to us with a nasty infection. Also, are you saying you had direct interaction with her?" Doctor Sorenson asks.

  I have no status effects regarding any plague bullshit, and the infection happened after I got away. I don't want to say that though, they know enough about what I can do already. Well at least not the first part. "I got the infection in the woods after I got away, because I had shit to treat my wound with. Is there anything you can do for my hand or my missing fingers?"

  "Well there is good news and bad news," he says. That's just great. "What do you want to hear first?"

  "It doesn't matter; you got to tell me both anyway." I think I saw him shrug but it was hard to tell under the giant plastic thing he was dressed up in.

  "Your sepsis is under control. You've healed remarkably well, considering. The infections are on track to clear up as well, so long as you maintain your medicine and nutrient regimen. You've got bruising on your lungs, heart, and liver, and some fractured ribs. None of it requires surgery, so it's nothing that won't heal up on its own in time. We've got you bandaged up to help speed that along. Just don't do anything strenuous for a few weeks."

  Nothing I didn't know about already from my status effects.

  "You have signs of a minor concussion, but that may clear up within a week. You didn't lose anything permanent on your middle finger. Fingertips can actually regenerate, and that's not even a Parahuman power."

  Huh fingertips can regenerate, really? The doc started to undo my restraints.

  "We were able to trim the necrotic tissue off the wound of your missing pinky, so I anticipate it will heal over properly. However, and this is where the bad news starts. We need to amputate what's left of the intermediate phalange on your fourth finger, and your powers are preventing us from doing so. That leaves a lot of necrotic tissue there, and that is a bad situation, unless it decides to fall off on its own, otherwise there is a risk of continual re-infection."

  Well that's just great.

  "Also," the doc continues. "You need surgery and pins to properly set the broken bones in your hand; which we also cannot do, because your power is preventing us. Now your hand will heal, provided the necrotic infection doesn't interfere; but without getting fixed first, it will heal wrong. You'll end up with a permanently crippled hand if that happens."

  "Well, fuck." My status effect description didn't warn me about that.

  "I don't suppose you have parahuman insurance?" Dr. Sorenson asked.

  "Hahahahahah!" I laughed. The doc just stared at me. "Wait, you're serious?"

  Sara spoke up over the intercom. "The PRT is willing to cover the costs of your hospital stay here, as reward for the tip given thus far regarding the S9 and the report you're still willing to provide. If we could in fact get to that, the sooner we know more—"

  "And what about my friend? How is she going to get saved? What can the PRT do for my hand?"

  "We're still looking into that. You said you could demonstrate your power?"

  "Hand me that pen, doc" Dr. Sorensen handed his pen to me. "Now you see it," the pen disappeared in a flash of light into my inventory. "Now you don't ." I pull it back out, "and now you see it again." I say as I hand it back to him.

  "And you said that items that you, bring into yourself, are in a state of stasis?"

  "Temporal stasis, yes, but again. I've never held a person before now."

  "So you've had prior experimentation with objects? You didn't trigger as a result of your encounter with the nine?"

  Ah well, that kinda got out of the bag. "I'm not comfortable with that line of questioning."

  "Are you able to describe the injuries your friend received that a trauma surgeon team would need to know about in order to aid in their recovery?" Dr. Sorenson asked.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Yes, in great detail. You going to take notes?"

  Dr. Sorenson clicked his pen and turned the paper on his clipboard over.

  "Right, just a moment." I close my eyes a bit and run through the mental commands to pull up my observe history on Chela.

  "She was in the middle of enduring major blood loss from a through and through puncture wound in her right torso. Shoulder area or just below. She has internal bleeding, probably from that, but might be from elsewhere, I'm not sure. She has at least 14 other lacerations over her body. There's at least two second degree burns, and five first degree burns, from an encounter with Burnscar. Twenty-two bruises. Her left wrist is sprained and her right ankle is sprained. She's suffering from minor hypothermia as a result of us fleeing through the snowstorm. At least two of her wounds are infected. I don't know which ones. She's in her clothes, with a fur coat over that, and then inside a sleeping bag. All of it is going to have to be cut-away."

  "On top of all that, she was already suffering from nutritional deficiency before the S9 happened."

  "Good grief, how did you even survive all of that?" I hear Sara ask over the intercom. Dr. Sorenson just keeps writing.

  "Anything else?" the doctor asks.

  "Yeah" I sigh. I doubt I'm going to like their reaction to the next bit, but I can't not tell them. "Bonesaw put some kind of tracking parasite in her back. I'm confident its signal stopped working when she got put in stasis." I'm not going to say she's a parahuman though, that's her decision, even though I'll advise against it in the hopes I can talk to her.

  The doc stops writing and looks at me and then up at the camera. "The PRT is going to have to handle this. This facility can't treat your friend properly. They will need a Level I trauma center, not to mention, one capable of dealing with bio-tinker material."

  "But you have that suit and put me in quarantine or whatever."

  "This is a small rural hospital, and this is the only suit we have, we had to get it out of storage for this."

  "We're putting a requisition in right away. The nearest hospital with adequate support and bio-tinker containment is in DC." Sara says over the intercom.

  "So now what? And what about my hand?"

  "I've contacted my superiors about this situation. Parahuman healers are very rare though, even fewer are Protectorate affiliated, and rogue healers are very expensive, with long waiting lists." Sara says over the intercom.

  "You said there was a reward for the tips against the S9?"

  "Which is based on the value of the tip, and yours is not the first report received, and a few days old. We've actually already canvased the lake and campground areas you mentioned yesterday, but anything could help. That's why it is very import to let—"

  "I get it!" I yell angrily, interrupting her. Not the first report, probably not even the second or third or whatever. Fuckers want to screw me over… "I have to make sure my friend and myself get treatment first then."

  "ER services have an obligation to help regardless of financial situation, and if you were to join the Wards…" Sara almost pleads over the intercom again.

  Damn, Wards pitch again. I just want Chela saved. I start to speak again, but Dr. Sorensen interrupts.

  "If the two of you could save that conversation for later, I still have a job to do in here."

  I do a quick swap to my free camera to see just what it is he's doing. He's changing out the medicines attached to the enema ass-pump. "Wouldn't a nurse be doing that?"

  "The suit didn't fit any of them."

  "So when do I get out of this thing?"

  "It depends. External readings show your temperature is still elevated. Normally, we would take blood samples to verify the blood infection levels have gone down, but your powers are preventing that. So there is some guess work involved. We can maybe try switching to oral antibiotics tomorrow morning if all goes well. How is your hand doing?" The doc asks as he comes over to examine it.

  "It hurts like hell, the worst thing I've ever felt in my life."

  "Hmm, you seem to be handling the pain well though, given your ability to carry on a conversation and an argument. Though there are some pain meds in your medicine. I figured you would have woken up far more groggy than you are currently."

  I have drug and pain resistance as a super-power, and it still hurts like a bitch. "I'm not, I'm really not. Just… never mind."

  "I'll increase your dosage levels. Alright then, I'm all done here."

  "Don't you have, like a TV or something?"

  "When you're cleared we can move you to a different room."

  "What about food?"

  "No eating or drinking until you no longer have medical equipment attached to your digestive systems." Dr. Sorenson says as he leaves the room.

  Shit, now what.

  "We've coordinated a transfer for you to a DC hospital, as early as tomorrow if you're well enough."

  "Sara?"

  "Yes?"

  "I don't have any clothes…" Huh, I think the drugs are starting to work.

  "I can look into finding you something."

  "Like nothing, not even underwear, or socks, or shoes and…"

  "Alright Stasis."

  "Make sure my friend survives, gets treated, she lost everything, traumatized, and she…skills." I watch as the numbers tick up slowly next to drug resistance. So is disease still, but slowly.

  "Skills? Stasis?"

  "But she… doesn't speak… English. Observe."

  "Stasis? Observe what?"

  ****?

  Monday, March 1st, 2010

  Your Disease Resistance skill has increased by 1

  I wake up and dismiss the notification. Oh thank god, I'm in a normal bed, no restraints and propped up on my back. Best of all, there's no enema ass pump thing jammed into my cornhole. Oh look, I've gotten several stress points back, when? Oh, yeah I turned the gain notifications for those off. Eh, they can stay off. Looks like I'm still in the hospital, the room is dimly lit too.

  I double check Chela's sheet and the quest again, still no changes. Why the hell are they making me wait still? If I told them Chela was a parahuman would they start getting off their ass more?

  Hey there's a TV, and a window. I explore with my free camera. It's dark outside, late at night. I still got lots of wires attached to my skin, no IVs still. My hand's still heavily bandaged and hurts like hell again.

  I hit the nurse call button, and find the remote to the TV and turn it on at a low volume. CNN is still covering the latest Endbringer attack that occurred last Friday. Why aren't there reports about the S9 or the dam breach? Probably because it got completely drowned out by Behemoth.

  "Yes?" A blonde headed nurse in scrubs comes in, and she isn't wearing a hazmat suit. Her overhead tag says Jordan and I shudder. The scene of Jordan shooting herself in the head after what Jack and Crawler did passes over me.

  "Are you alright?" She asks again.

  I stop my panicked breathing, and quickly calm down, and just like that I'm fine again. What the fuck was that? "Yes." I say as I look at her tag more closely. It doesn't say Jordan Palecki, it's Jodie Paletti. My stomach growls. "Can I get some food? A lot of food?"

  "Sure, anything else?" Jodie asks as she starts looking over my readings.

  "What time is it? Where's Dr. Sorenson and Sara?"

  "It's just after midnight. Dr. Sorenson's shift ended several hours ago. Who's Sara?"

  I touch my face, yeah the same mask is still there. "The PRT lady."

  "Oh, Ms. Clark? I presume she returned to her hotel, probably be back in the morning. You've woken up much sooner than expected."

  "My hand is hurting like hell again. Am I correct in guessing I'm out of quarantine or whatever?"

  "Yes, you're out of the infection ward. Still recovering, I have a note here that you'll get transferred to DC early this morning."

  "Why then, why not now?"

  Jodie just shrugs unknowingly. "Unless you need anything else I'll put that food order in for you."

  I shake my head no and Observe her as she leaves the room. Nothing on her Observe info seems unusual. She is nervous and curious about tending to a parahuman, something she's never done before, but that's about it.

  I listen to the TV in the background while roaming the entire hospital in my range with my free camera, spamming Observe on everything and everyone I can. I open up my notes and start collecting data on what average base INT and WIS values might be.

  ****?

  …displaying a very different set of tactics from all the other times Behemoth has emerged previously, he took everyone in the area of southern Mexico heroes by surprise. Scientists and authorities initially thought that the inactive volcano Cofre de Perote, had awoken despite not having geological evidence of activity since 1150 AD. Numerous earthquakes had centered on the volcano, and reached a frequency point in which the surrounding area was evacuated over the latter half of February. That part at least was good news, meaning many people were removed from the devastated areas when early Friday morning Central Standard Time, the volcano violently erupted. The area surrounding the volcano for several kilometers was inundated with both pyroclastic flows and lava bombs.

  However one of the massive bombs turned out to be Behemoth. Having mistakenly attributed the earthquakes to the volcano, the US and Canadian Protectorate were taken by surprise, and had zero lead time before Behemoth used the explosive power of the volcano to launch himself several kilometers to the east, where he landed and then began moving toward the Gulf of Mexico.

  Current speculation is that Behemoth caused the volcanic eruption himself as a means to propel himself outward by surprise. He then began a rapid trek across the Mexican state of Veracruz and it was soon determined that he was vectoring toward the city of Laguna Verde, which contains Mexico's only Nuclear power plant.

  Behemoth's rampage will have far reaching consequences for North America and the rest of the world, more so than many prior Endbringer attacks. Many areas of Veracruz devastated by Behemoth's march were very industrialized. Numerous electronic factories and other manufacturing centers, now in ruins, made use of the stable expanded power provided by the destroyed nuclear plant.

  Significant economic investments in the area had been made even since the late 1990's to provide low cost manufacturing centers in order to offset Chinese trade and the slump in shipping that Leviathan's appearance had caused. Now to Randal, with an expanded take on the economic toll this most recent Endbringer battle is going to have on the current markets.

  Indeed Jessica, ever since the Russian and Chinese militaries were decimated in their attempt to kill Behemoth in 1995, which allowed the CUI to overthrow the People's Republic of China, many western nations, the US and Canada in particular, had been searching for an alternative to overseas Chinese manufacturing. When Leviathan appeared a year later, and began destroying port cities, the panic that put in the market caused overseas transport insurance rates to spike and a slump in overall shipping, the US government and many investors started looking to Mexico to take up the slack in low cost manufacturing labor. This was especially pursued because it meant goods could still get transported overland for those still afraid that Leviathan would start sinking container ships and oil tankers.

  While Leviathan never did outright attacks on individual ships, his repeated strikes against port cities took their toll, and Veracruz near Laguna Verde was one of the places that saw significant investment. Now after Friday's attack, which was the longest Behemoth battle to date, lasting over twelve hours, much of that area is devastated, and ended with the destruction of the Nuclear plant, and Behemoth finally burrowing back down into the earth. Several dozen of Mexico's heroes died fighting against Behemoth, as did many of our US and Canadian capes, in what was also the largest death toll to date against an Endbringer, and Scion failed to make an appearance.

  What this means economically is don't expect a new smartphone model or a new TV this year or the next. Even if major brands have been sparse with releases before, this latest loss is going to negatively impact the manufacturing sectors greatly. Also with so many hero losses, expect the villain led cartels to make even heavier pushes for conflict and control over drug and smuggling trade routes. In fact, just hours ago, representatives of the Mexican government had emergency meetings with President Markham and PRT Chief Director Costa-Brown. Could this signal a change in Mexico's stance regarding joint cooperation in the US-Canadian Protectorate initiative? We'll find…

  I mute the TV when a different nurse rolls a cart filled with my food into the room. I practically inhale it before the woman points out an entire cup full of pills to me. Observe tells me they are pain meds and antibiotics; very strong ones too. Even after eating and chugging my pills, it's still dark out. I have little to do but meditate, keep spamming Observe and wait for whenever I could get out of here.

  ****?

  Hours later there is finally a knock on my door. "Come in." The door opens and in walks Sara, she's carrying a large plastic bag.

  "Good Morning Stasis."

  Oh right, cape persona number two. "Morning, Sara? Sounds like your voice and the PRT tag thingy is a giveaway. Nice to finally see you in person." Her overhead tag is even more obvious.

  "Yes, Sara Clark, that's me."

  "Pardon my impatience, but are we leaving soon?"

  "There's some more paperwork to fill out, but yes."

  "I'm not signing nothing."

  "Oh, well…" She says before pausing. I seem to have thrown her for a loop. "I was hoping you were ready to tell more about the S9, your information could be valuable…"

  I throw another Observe at her to get her motivations, not too much different than before. She's also damn tired but buzzed off on coffee Hospital must have called her early. Her motivation to get my S9 info has increased. What conversation did you have with your bosses? What else can I get in exchange? "Are we taking a helicopter? Or something fast? How far is it to DC?" I ask her.

  "Ah no. We'll be driving, it will take about four hours."

  "That doesn't make me feel like the PRT is being very urgent with this."

  "There are expenses to consider. We've already put forward a lot. Yet, you haven't strictly given us something we didn't have a lead on already."

  "Expenses," I audibly sigh on purpose so she can hear it. "That your opinion or your bosses?"

  "As a representative of the PRT, our views are one in the same…"

  "Ha, so your bosses. It's okay."

  "The point remains that, while you have given us additional confirmation on the area they were operating out of, there hasn't been much beyond that. We arranged for your medical treatment, and that of your friend, for when you 'un-stasis' her. I don't want to press too hard, I really don't. Most people can barely function after enduring the kind of trauma they put people through, let alone claim to remember much beyond the sheer horror. But you're different regarding all that, aren't you? At least my superiors think so; and so do I. I think that will make your insight rare and valuable. I've actually taken a gamble on you. Was I wrong?"

  She's got an INT of 22, that's above average; and a Psychology degree. By all rights I should be a quivering wreck in need of years of therapy. I give her my most pained, distant and mournful expression. "You're not wrong, but that doesn't mean I want to be forced to think through everything they did again so soon either."

  "We've also contacted a parahuman that might be able to assist with your medical issues."

  "Oh a healer?"

  "Not quite, a rogue nullifier. If your powers are preventing medical treatment, then having them turned off temporarily might let that treatment work."

  "Huh, that might work." I don't think I'll enjoy it though.

  "But their services are expensive; and an agreement with them hasn't been finalized yet."

  "Ya'll aren't going to get a helicopter."

  "No"

  "How about breakfast then? Like a giant stack of pancakes, bacon and syrup."

  "I can manage that. Here's your clothes. I hope I got the right sizes. I asked the nurse your height and weight last night. That was all I had to go by."

  "Thanks." I said as I took the bag from her. "The reason the S9 mutilate and terrorize people, apart from feeding their own sadism, is to purposefully induce triggers. They're studying powers. Well, Jack and Riley, that's Bonesaw, are. The others are just along for the ride. Once they get a new parahuman…"

  What would they have done to Chela if we hadn't gotten away? Same as me, and my quest failure was to be a meat-puppet. All the horrible images start filling my mind.

  "It's okay Stasis." Sara puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder, and I push the bad thoughts away. "Mind if I call that in while you change? I'll be just outside the door."

  I nod silently and she leaves the room. I get up, a little unsteady but make it to the bathroom. She made some good guesses on the clothes. The blue jeans are a little too big at the waist, but she got me a belt too.

  I swap to my free camera and send it outside the door. I crank my voice volume controls to max, and mute all the others. I position my camera right on Sara's ear where she is holding up her cell. She's speaking to a male voice on the other end.

  "Sir, I don't think a hard sell is going to work on him. He's cautious and untrusting, I think he wears a psychological mask to go along with his physical one---"

  "Keep pushing. Two-thirds of watchdog assigned to this flagged gaining this report as high priority, the other third are just fucking confused, which itself is a flag on its own." The man on the other end of the phone stated.

  "And what he said about their trigger experiments?"

  "Still not something we didn't already know."

  "Well, I'm sorry Sir. I don't know what you do and don't know regarding the nine."

  "Well, don't be sorry. You're not cleared to know all of what we do and don't know about them. So…"

  Sara decided to shift her position and wander a bit while she held the phone. Which meant she walked out of the spot where I parked my camera, and I had to chase her, and she kept pacing about.

  "Okay, Sir… I know, Sir… I'll try… Yes… I think that would help…"

  Since moving my free camera is still a bit slow, it became a one sided conversation despite my volume control abuse. Until she stopped moving again.

  "…the nine already have some kind of anti-thinker interference effect, secondary sources make…" I catch the other side of the conversation briefly before she moves again.

  "But I think I have made progress with him. If it could just—"

  "Well, all you've got is four hours, because Agent Piper is going to meet you in DC and take over. So keep your recorder on, and text anything relevant."

  "Of course , Sir."

  "This better not be a wash, Clark. I don't want to deal with any more crazy theories either, out."

  He hung up on her. Sara's boss? Whoever it was, he sounded like an asshole. I may have only been able to hear most of that because he was yelling into the phone. Her expression definitely doesn't look happy right now. I re-observe her, and watch as she settles her own expression back into something presentable before knocking on my door again. Guess I should finish getting dressed so we can get out of here.

  ****?

  Your Meditation skill has increased by 1

  Your Observe skill has increased by 1

  I'm screwing myself over if I ever want to get a specialty in Observe again. Yet, it's getting harder to get a stream of non-wasted MP hits on it too. It's also taking too long since I'm trying to collect stat averages. Means I have to actually read the damn things. I dismiss the Observe window on yet another early morning commuter on their way to DC. As I previously suspected, average INT seems to be closing in on 18, and WIS on a value of 20, though older folks tend to be higher. So that means I have well above average INT and somewhat above average WIS, and certainly above average for my age.

  Why does it feel like I haven't made the best of choices or smart decisions then? Cause you haven't dipshit. Running away to become homeless in another state because of 'XP' and wanting to chase the girl I need to stop denying I have the hots for, wasn't a smart or wise thing to do. Not even with my power, or shard or whatever, goading me into it. Nor is being too stubborn to fix the problem currently. Also stupid is still holding your S9 info hostage, just because you're being irrationally paranoid about getting screwed over. Yet I'm going to do it anyway.

  Hell, Sara has been really nice so far. She bought some clothes for me, she's driving me to DC right now, got the PRT to pay for medical stuff, and find a cape that might help me figure out how to deal with my hand. Even though Observe, and her prior conversation with her boss, says she's under pressure to get my info and press me into joining; she figured out that's the wrong angle to take with me, and has just been kind and understanding. Meanwhile, I haven't even thanked her yet.

  "Thanks for driving me to DC, and the clothes, and everything else too. I've not been the most pleasant, or open lately." I say with my eyes still closed, meditation having been broken temporarily again after the last bump.

  "I thought you were sleeping. Sorry DC traffic is such a mess, we should be there in about an hour."

  We have already been driving for three hours, and I still hadn't given up more info; but she hadn't asked again either, content instead to just be patient with me and endure my occasional small talk. I wasn't enthused about her having a recorder, but I had little room to complain since I had FRAPs to do the same thing.

  "I'm just still surprised they wouldn't send a helicopter and made you drive me; and it's your car too, not PRT issued, isn't it?"

  "How did you know this was my car?" Sara asks me.

  Cause I observed it. "Georgetown University student parking lot sticker on the back window. I don't think a government issued vehicle would need that, so I took a guess. You go there? What you study?"

  "Psychology and Parahuman Studies"

  "Still, whole thing just doesn't seem right. What if I reach some time limit and she pops out in the middle of the car while we're on the freeway?" I really don't think that will actually happen though. There doesn't seem to be a real time limit, and I had some objects in my inventory since mid-February before dumping everything into the vorpal kitty. That's way damn longer than how long Chela has been in there so far.

  "I did try to convince them. Though, I think that scenario happening in a helicopter mid-flight would be a worse outcome."

  Huh, yeah that would be pretty bad. "I know, I know. None of that is your fault, and y'all have already spent a lot. I feel bad that I'm gonna end up asking for more help once we get there."

  Status. What's my base carry weight? What would a 170 lbs. of instant confetti do to the inside of a moving vehicle?

  "We'll. I've already told you. The best way you can get a lot of support from the Protectorate and PRT is to…"

  "Yeah, I know that too." I sigh. Then, through my high flying free camera I spot a Fuddruckers sign. "Oh! Oh! Turn off at the next exit, let's get some lunch."

  "Drive thru again I suppose, IHOP this morning wasn't enough?"

  I switch off my free camera and shift the empty food containers on the floorboard with my feet. "Yeah, sorry for the mess, but I'm dying for a good cheeseburger. Until this morning, all I had for the last four days was a rabbit I caught in the woods, some foraged plants and hospital food. Oh look, a Fuddruckers!"

  "I don't think they have a drive thru."

  "You can just go in and get it to go, please?"

  "Alright. Though the whole reason you wanted a helicopter was you were worried how long you could keep your friend in stasis. These are more delays."

  I double check Chela's sheet and the quest yet again, there are no changes. "Yeah, the longer it keeps getting, the more I think the total time may not matter after all. Is the surgeon team going to be ready?"

  "My last text a few minutes ago said they have a room prepped and on standby for when we arrive."

  "And the Nullifier dude?"

  "His cape name is Leech. He's on a plane to DC now, but it's not expected to land until late this evening."

  Leech is the best compromise I'll get. All the protectorate affiliated, and most of the rogue healers are still patching up injured capes from the Behemoth fight. If he can turn my power off temporarily, then plain old modern medicine can probably do its job. Which should work, considering what happened with Hatchet Face. But I dread what might happen with Gamer's Mind turning off again.

  "All right, do you know what you want?" Sara asks me as she parks her car.

  "Third pounder, double bacon, avocado, cheeseburger with chipotle BBQ sauce; medium well."

  "That sounded well-rehearsed, they have that here?"

  "Well they do in…" Uh, she doesn't actually know I'm from Texas. "Well just get whatever is closest if they don't."

  "All right, I'll be back soon. Give me your trash." Right, neat freak. I gather it up and hand it over. Sara gets out of the car and heads toward the restaurant.

  "And an Oreo milkshake!" I shout after her, she turns, nods her head, and walks inside.

  ****?

  Sara got herself a milkshake too but no food. I focused on eating and spamming Observe again. The rest of the drive to DC is uneventful. Not that the first three hours weren't also.

  We pull into the city proper, I observe what monuments I can from the road, but we head straight to the hospital, pull right up to the front of the ER.

  "Agent Piper is going to meet you and take things from here. I hope everything turns out well for you and your friend, Stasis."

  "Thanks, Sara, but don't worry, I've got your back." I say as I undo my seat-belt.

  "Um, what do you mean?"

  "I hope your day is cleared. I'd advise just parking and heading in, otherwise they'll just call you and ask you to turn around and come back." I open the door and step out.

  "I'm leaving you in good hands Stasis, you don't have to worry."

  "Stasis, I presume? I'm Agent Piper." The PRT man says as I turn around and observe him. There are some other plain clothes PRT officers standing around as well, their overhead tags a dead giveaway. I ignore them and dart inside the hospital before waiting for him to catch up again. They all flock inside after me like I kicked over an ant hill.

  "Stasis, Stasis, if we could---"

  "Show me the ready operating room for my friend right now."

  "Of course, I just wanted---"

  "I wanted this resolved hours ago, it could have been done. I don't know you, I don't trust you. I trust Ms. Clark, I have a rapport with her, she bought me clothes, food, and has been patient and understanding with me."

  "I'm sure with time, I can—"

  "I've had enough time, show me to the operating room. Unless you know where the S9 is right now, which I'm pretty certain you don't. My info will be just as good later, for the next reported encounter. I'm going to give the report I promised to Ms. Clark, not anyone else, after I've gotten what I've asked for."

  Agent Piper's face turned to a poorly hidden scowl. "You'll need to get dressed and decontaminated before entering the OR. Follow me."

  Finally, he leads me down a few hallways, and brings me before a group of doctors and nurses. I look over their overhead tags.

  "Dr. Connors, Dr. Mitchum, this is Stasis. He'll be delivering the trauma victim that we discussed before."

  "I see, can we go through the injuries that were reported again, as well as any other relevant information?"

  "Sure" I said and then I recited everything I told Dr. Sorensen yesterday. "Also she does not speak English, just Spanish. I speak Spanish, do you have anyone else on the team that does?"

  There were several utterances of 'no', and one 'not fluently' spoken.

  "Is Nurse Martinez on today? If she is, and not currently attending, let's bring her in as an assist." Dr. Connors, an older woman asks before turning to me again. "Is your injured hand going to interfere with, or need any special accommodation in regards to however, you're going to 'bring her out'?"

  "No, I can use only my uninjured hand to do so."

  "Can you tell us any more about her? Name, relations, points of contact, physical attributes that might help our surgeons and anesthesiologist?"

  Hmm, not going to give her real name. "Juanita Cierva, age 14, 119 lbs. 5 foot, 1 inch." I pause before continuing. "I'm the only relation, which…" I tap on my mask. "I'd want to speak with her as soon as she's conscious and can speak on her own." Actually fuck, what if there is a problem and they need to get her attention or calm her down? "Her nickname is Chela, she’ll respond better to that."

  "Does your power require you to remain in physical contact with her during the operation after she is brought out, for any reason at all?"

  "No"

  "Does it require, for any reason, you to be in the room, or within a minimum distance from her?"

  "No"

  "Then as soon as you release her, you'll be escorted out of the OR and into the waiting area. Do you agree with this?"

  What the fuck else was I going to do? Stand around and get in the way? "Yes" I could watch with my free camera. If I want to, I'm not sure I want to.

  "Is there anything else we need to know about the mechanics of your power as you bring her out? For example, is it slow, or instantaneous? Are we capable of performing any actions before the transition is complete? Anything like that?"

  "There will be a momentary bright flash of light when it begins. Nothing blinding or anything like that. It's not instantaneous, but only takes seconds. I'm not sure if you can do anything in those few seconds though. I've never tried. You have plenty of blood on hand? She was bleeding to death, and already unconscious when I put her in."

  "Yes, we have plenty of O- on hand. Is there anything else you can think of?"

  "Yes, hold on a moment." I jump to the notification history I had on the last time I pulled the parasite out of myself, one bit at a time. "The parasite bug, located in her upper back, is about the size of a small cricket, maybe an inch long. Some of its inorganic components are small copper filaments, nylon threads, transistors, epoxy, quartz crystals, some tiny rubber bands…." I make sure I list everything matching the exact quantities of my log, as the nurses frantically take notes.

  Then they read everything back to me and I confirm it all. There's another round of verifying there are no more questions, that the room and tools are ready, and when all is good, I'm sent to a side room to change while they set up.

  I put on a full body scrub robe thing, some booties to cover my shoes, an OR face mask to go with my domino mask, and a hair net. I didn't have to wear gloves, but I had to wash my uninjured hand. One of the nurses helped. Then she brought me through a different door into the OR room itself. The PRT agents were out in the hall.

  Bright lights flood the stainless steel surgical table in the center of the room. I blinked and saw a picture of myself on Bonesaw's table in my head. Fuck. The doctors and nurses are standing around the table in position. The tools are laid out to the side, anything they might need, shears, tubing, forceps of various sizes, suture threads, bandages, scalpels, saws…

  Riley looks back at me, holding her bonesaw in her hand, the voxel blood from my forehead dripping off of it. 'Aw, figured that wouldn't work, but I had to try.' she squeals. Fuck me!

  "Stasis, are you alright? Are you good to continue?"

  "Yeah, just give me a moment." I push the thoughts away. I have to do this. It's all I can do, the best thing I can do for her. I'm not going to tell them she is a parahuman? I shouldn't. What if she makes a portal in the middle of surgery? She won't, she'll be under anesthetic. A fire? There's no fires in here to flare.

  "We're all ready, just waiting on you Stasis."

  Fuck it, I nod. Inventory Sleeping bag.

  Simon's Character Sheet:

  Name: Simon Clarence Anderson

  Gender: Male

  Age: 15

  Race: Human (Parahuman)

  Class: Teenage Runaway / Rogue

  Faction: None

  Money: $0.00

  Title: Gentleman Thief

  Level: 26 (0.92%)

  XP: 62547

  Primary Attributes

  STR: 17 (-2.00) 15.00 (0.00%)

  AGI: 23 (-2.50) 20.50 (0.00%)

  CON: 55 (-4.03) 50.97 (98.55%)

  INT: 30 (-2.00) 28.00 (0.00%)

  PER: 12 (-2.00) 10.00 (51.09%)

  WIS: 22 (-2.00) 20.00 (35.42%)

  CHA: 14 (-1.50) 12.50 (0.00%)

  LUC: 15 (+0.00) 15.00 (78.75%)

  Unspent Points: 9

  Secondary Attributes

  Health Pool: 2865/2865

  Stamina Pool: 1794/1794

  Mana Pool: 3327/9750

  Stress Pool: 466/520

  Attack: 20.25

  Speed: 3.18

  Dodge: 19.93

  Armor: 0.40

  Carry: 150.00

  Allure: 4 (-1.25) 2.75

  Status Effects

  Teenage Acne: ALU -0.50

  Alluring Charm*: ALU +1.00

  Fractured Ribs: STR -0.50 AGI -0.75 CON -1.50

  Bruised Organs x4: AGI -0.50 CON -1.00

  Minor Concussion: INT -0.50 PER -0.50 WIS -0.50

  Severed finger: STR -0.15 CON -0.02 ALU -0.13

  Partially-severed finger: STR -0.10 CON -0.01 ALU -0.13

  Broken Hand: STR -0.25 AGI -0.25

  Infected Wound: STR -1.00 AGI -1.00 CON -1.50 INT -1.50 PER -1.50 WIS -1.50 CHA -1.50 ALU -0.50

  Visage of a Wuss: ALU -1.00

  Skills

  Max Slots: 66

  Free Skill Slots: 20

  Artistry: 10 (85.89%)

  Athletics: 13 (8.30%)

  Basic Academics: 9 (0.00%)

  Computers: 10 (11.23%)

  Crafting (Cooking & Brewing): 1 (0.00%)

  Crafting (Stone & Pottery): 10 (5.67%)

  Create Mana Golem: 12 (44.55%)

  Damage Resistance (Corrosive): 2 (43.31%)

  Damage Resistance (Electrical): 3 (24.35%)

  Damage Resistance (Fire & Heat): 4 (0.75%)

  Damage Resistance (Ice & Cold): 3 (0.00%)

  Damage Resistance (Physical): 12 (37.90%)

  Damage Resistance (Sonic & Concussive): 1 (0.00%)

  Disable Device: 12 (7.45%)

  Disease Resistance: 13 (11.24%)

  Disguise: 4 (25.98%)

  Drug & Poison Resistance: 21 (46.78%)

  Empathy: 13 (73.76%)

  Firearms: 1 (0.00%)

  Gamer's Body: MAX (0.00%)

  Gamer's Interface: MAX (0.00%)

  Gamer's Mind: MAX (0.00%)

  Language-English: MAX (0.00%)

  Language-Spanish: MAX (0.00%)

  Mathematics: 4 (0.00%)

  Medicine: 3 (25.67%)

  Meditation: 13 (24.74%)

  Melee Weapons: 4 (31.96%)

  Null Resistance: 12 (29.76%)

  Observe: 26 (32.23%)

  Parahuman Lore: 12 (0.76%)

  Power Dash: 2 (46.97%)

  Power Strike: 10 (8.74%)

  Programming: 10 (0.54%)

  Psychology: 5 (12.61%)

  Science (Biology): 1 (53.22%)

  Science (Chemistry): 1 (0.00%)

  Science (Earth): 1 (0.00%)

  Speech: 11 (4.99%)

  Stealth: 13 (5.14%)

  Strategy: 6 (10.35%)

  Survival: 2 (67.65%)

  Thievery: 11 (19.80%)

  Unarmed Combat: 5 (11.10%)

  Vehicle Operations: 3 (0.00%)

  Video Games: 26 (16.74%)

  Unspent Skill Points: 0

  Perks

  Free Perk Slots: 1

  Gaia's Blessing: Mana Pool and Mana Skill access

  Gaia's Attunement: Elemental Affinity access

  Light Sleeper: Need only 5 hours to get fully rested

  Mana Reserve: Bonus MP per level increased by 25%

  XP Whore: +10% Level XP

  Fast Recovery: x4 HP, Stamina and healing regeneration speed (Free at 50 CON)

  Toughness: Bonus HP per level increased by 50%

  Quick Items: Retrieve and place items in inventory instantly w/out using the window

  Flaws

  Selective Amnesia: We had to make room for stuff in your head

  A Bit of a Troll: Sometimes you just can't help yourself

  Unnatural Curiosity: Can't always resist the urge to find stuff out

  You still look like a Wuss: Even with a few extra muscles, you still look like a wuss.

  Wanted by the S9: You think they'd forget? Git gud, skrub

  Affinities

  Earth: 8

  Water: 1

  Plant: 2

  Lightning: 3

  Fire: 3

  Air: 1

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