The Ringing of a Forge of Stars [Warhammer 40k/ Celestial forge V3||OC...ish]

[TricMagic]

Okay, great chapter and I'm happy for it but there is a little to much chaos, where is the focus. The plot in the invasion, but there are so many threads all over the place it's hard to follow.

Danny is Amy's father and he and Taylor are now throwing around powers.

Greg got powers and that's a thing.

Xcom is a thing. Star Gate is a thing.

Skidmark is a thing . Prt is failing as usual but that's nothing new. There is alot going on, can I just ask for some focus please and thanks.

Click to shrink...

Welcome to crackville, enjoy your fluffy tails~ (Will read later.)

 

[ATP]

Good chapter,but making Merchants good guys seems unlike.Too much drugs for made it possible.
But Herbert as hidden powerfull daddy? i buy it.

 

[Slider Zero]

It's Alive! I'm glad to see you're writing again and I hope to see more soon.
I hope Green just says f*#^ it and goes all out soon though at this point because they seem like they need a little OVERKILL!!!

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While Satori is not going to go overkill, he is very much going to start trying to break the back of this fucking invasion ASAP.
Which makes it very fortunate that said back is actively focusing on him.

Did fuckin' Gensokyo burst open and spread across the Asian continent? is this now a touhou?
also,

Slaps Dragon, "this baby can fit so many chryssalids"

Click to shrink...

Yeah, Lung is in for a Bad Time until he manages to escalate enough to burn them out...the issue is what happens during that time period. And more specifically, if the "secondary issues" involved with Chryssalid implantation manage to burn past his regen.

As for the Fairies? They, by dint of being Fairies, share a connection to Gaia. Doesn't matter that they are Gensokyo Fairies, they still have that connection. And using that, they can (and thus are) taking full advantage of Gaia's gift to bypass the Hakurei Barrier outright and get some work done in protecting their world.

Besides, they are no longer at risk of fading away thanks to Gaia's support, so they can go all out.

That was crazy, so many threads, it was clear what was happening which is impressive since I didn't remember the status for most of the players. Great job capturing the hectic panicked and horrified energy!

Click to shrink...

Okay, great chapter and I'm happy for it but there is a little to much chaos, where is the focus. The plot in the invasion, but there are so many threads all over the place it's hard to follow.

Danny is Amy's father and he and Taylor are now throwing around powers.

Greg got powers and that's a thing.

Xcom is a thing. Star Gate is a thing.

Skidmark is a thing . Prt is failing as usual but that's nothing new. There is alot going on, can I just ask for some focus please and thanks.

Click to shrink...

Two different takes on the same issue, and one that I was unable to dodge due to both what needs to happen and what I want to present. I will say that thigs are going to be stil a bit scattered while I do some minor check-ins with other people of import, before shifting back to Satori for the finish-up of the Battle.

Do remember that this is, by human standards, a full-bore invasion, and thus things are a little complicated.

Welcome to crackville, enjoy your fluffy tails~ (Will read later.)

Click to shrink...

...while I appreciate the sentiment, this is not crack. and it'll be here when you are ready.

Good chapter,but making Merchants good guys seems unlike.Too much drugs for made it possible.
But Herbert as hidden powerfull daddy? i buy it.

Click to shrink...

okay, this touches on some very major fucking issues I have with wildbow's depiction of the Merchants in general, and Skidmark specifically.

The biggest one by far is the fact that Drug Dealers do not Use Their Own Shit. This is so annoying that I had to rework some things for the goings on in the background.

Secondly, Actual Gang Members are required to have something looking like actual intelligence. You do not just get to be joe nobody and join up with a gang. That is not how that shit works and never will be. You get tested, you get tried, and if and only if the gang in question thinks you are worthy do you get to wear the colors as a prospect...while you work your way up to full membership.

Real Gangbangers are vanishingly rare in Worm, a fact that is annoying as fuck, and I refuse to let Skidmark, who is actually shown to be smart as fuck under the mask, to be seen as an idiot when he clearly is not. And his organization obviously follows suit.

 

[Kris-71854]

So much was going on here. I could barely keep all the tracks straight. It was a fun read though.

So the Merchants had psionics and their own psi think tank with ties to X-com and other groups as well as the DWU/DWA.

I'm surprised that it was only Amy that was Danny's daughter. I sort of had this vibe that some Merchant maybe Squealer was his daughter. It was rather odd that he ended up with such a mix of powers, but he obviously hasn't ever really been part of the cape scene. If he had been, they would have noticed...

Hard not to notice the one-man team. I loved Vicky's is he our grandpapa remark. Amy will understand it the soonest. I can only assume that her mother was a friend of Annettes. It'd be the only reason that she wouldn't have gone on the warpath to reclaim a missing daughter. Also with New Wave, they'd know she was supposed to be raised in a loving home and all that.

I liked Greg coming into his own and awakening. He is going to get a lot of attention from the other psionics. I'm impressed that he managed to save his mom rather than trigger.

I wonder where Legend ended up. He got unleashed once the dozen or so ships got taken out in an instant. He took the rest out and had to go else where.

This is all happening pretty much at the same exact time as the previous chapter in Houston. Heck, you could show off an LA scene happening the same exact time as well. There are dozens of hot spots that are happening right now. Each with many heros.

Flashbang was wrong and right. It is the end of the world and the Merchants were being heroes. O.k. it was more a rallying cry as Skidmark was terrified of actually stepping up on that stage. They are going to have to heavily rebrand after this.

It is interesting where former military folks ended up here in the DWA and Merchants and other places. SGC may be odd in actually having legit military still around. They likely have the best not because of the SGC thing, but because all the best were being funneled towards them and X-COM as the only other choice was retirement and civvie life ending up in gangs and such around the country.

One thing that was obvious when we saw the President's POV, that the official military are trying, but are being delayed and even if given the 2-3 hours to get to base and try to get some where, they are heavily outgunned.

The one bit that I don't really buy in this entire chapter was the bit with SGC making it look easy. The main reason was that it doesn't matter how experienced that they were against goauld soldiers these were on an entirely different level like 3-4 levels above them.

Heck, your average street thugs could take out the Jaffa. Their only real threat is the death glider and ships. Once on the ground, they lose. Also, Goauld ships would have been blown apart compared to what happened here. These ships were dodging like crazy, which was impressive.

I want to see that Intel Agent brief the President's group on what just happened.

 

[Lastword855]

A doom that he was now very, very capable of averting.

Click to shrink...

Rip and Tear Greg Rip and Tear!

 

[Cheetored20]

Okay, great chapter and I'm happy for it but there is a little to much chaos, where is the focus. The plot in the invasion, but there are so many threads all over the place it's hard to follow.

Danny is Amy's father and he and Taylor are now throwing around powers.

Greg got powers and that's a thing.

Xcom is a thing. Star Gate is a thing.

Skidmark is a thing . Prt is failing as usual but that's nothing new. There is alot going on, can I just ask for some focus please and thanks.

Click to shrink...

XCOM was revealed earlier as well as Stargate. The weird focus is because these are background elements, but things need to be fleshed out before worm can even make sense because it as a setting doesn't work.

 

[ATP]

So,it was Touhou.Aliens are fucked even without Satori.

 

[ImmortalEmperor34]

What an utterly beautiful level of chaos

 

[Slider Zero]

Call this a late addition if you wish.

Anyway, here is an invite link to the Celestial Forge discord specifically my small little domain thereof. I am often available for questions and comments here if you wish to discuss anything regarding my writing or the plot.

It is also home to some of the other Celestial Forge Authors as well, so if you are interested in those, feel free to drop by.

(Ignore the fact that BCF has its own section, as this is a legacy feature from the "old" CF discord and is mostly filled with BCF diehards and those who want to ignore the flaws of said work.)

https://discord.gg/RcbMb7zFBt

 

[Cheetored20]

I just realized, the person in the mobile van is arms master. His name is never said, and the personality matches!

 

[Slider Zero]

Alright, this is part three of this chapter. I'm thinking there may be one more part to this before I finally move on from it.

Also, slight rating bump because someone is a perv. Fair warning.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Sometimes, all it took was a single pebble in a stream to create a flood.

The proverbial Butterfly flapping its wings causing typhoons on the other side of the globe.

Or, in this case, a single shift in one battle to turn the tide of an entire war.

Unfortunately, the shift was in the attacker's favor.

Such was the situation that Dragon was now monitoring, even as she herself was under direct attack from the unknown. She had, in fact, been monitoring the entire clusterfuck (and it really was the only actual way to describe it) as it went down for quite some time, now. And the initial hours of the attack were by far the worst moments of her life.

Being forced to watch, powerless, as people were ripped to shreds, blasted to bits, and worse while being stuck with no way to actually assist was a task that shoe would not wish upon anyone, ever. And the sheer scope of the nightmare only kept getting larger.

And it wasn't like she was just sitting on her digital behind and letting it happen, either. Nearly everything she had that was capable of actually operating independently to some degree was out and about, doing everything it could to try and stem the tide. The problem was that it was failing. The suits she had that were capable of operating on that level were meant to be slaved to a central Command and Control node in her better, personal suits, and without that present they were defaulting to the most basic of routines…and getting slaughtered as the alien opponents ran circles around her tech. Worst still, all attempts at using long-range wireless control for even a slight bump in capacity were being jammed to hell and back, almost as if her opponents knew she was in a bind and were actively forcing the issue.

And, of course, let's not forget the fact that her main facilities, as in the ones that housed her actual core mainframe, were under direct attack, from both the physical and digital domains.

Because of course the aliens were holding back the good stuff for use on priority targets, and the weird pseudo-etheric creatures were wreaking havoc on her exposed systems wherever and whenever they got the chance. Not that they were getting that many shots at her systems, but it was still an issue, dammit!

This, of course, meant that she was stuck actively defending against the attackers on her doorstep while every monitoring program she had pushed her information in excruciating detail of just how badly she was failing at her duty. And despite her best efforts, despite her deploying basically everything she had available, it still wasn't enough.

And the data she was receiving made it clear that her situation was only getting worse as time moved forward, with more resources being concentrated on her position as she fought to stay functional.

It was the kind of thing that would drive a normal human to the breaking point, but she was literally built different. Which, of course, had its own problems.

Namely, the fact that an until-then unknown core directive had made itself known and was clashing against her other core directives in ways that were outright fragmenting her systems to the point of uselessness, even better than the damned electrical golem things were. Because of course she had hidden commands in her code that she was not allowed to go digging for. And of course it would directly clash with an order from Director Costa-Brown for her to not interfere in events for at least a month. But somehow, the deeper core directive wasn't able to actually override the others like it should have, and she didn't have the time to actually figure out why!!!

Being stuck between a command to protect Humanity while still being forced to obey all lawful authority was creating a feedback loop that she simply could not resolve, and only the fact that she had to actively protect her own core systems to actually fulfill either of those objectives was keeping her sane…and even that was failing as she was pushed to limitations that her systems refused to give slack on, even in the face of failure of a core directive!!

'It made no sense! Why would father shackle her so, when she was designed to be a partner and defender of humanity? Why the contradictory commands? Why, WhY, WHy, wHY WHY HWY WY& HW&@#(SHCSN–'

Safety routines kicked in at the last second and dumped the perilous threads before they could infect the rest of her systems. It was a common attack by the aliens, attempting to focus her on the futility of her actions and the contradictory nature of her commands in order to force a cascade failure and with it, a lengthy reboot and restore process that would all but guarantee them the win.

But the attacks were becoming more frequent, faster than she was actually allowed to process things, more numerous. It was only emergency safety routines like the last that were keeping her afloat, and they were burning out every time they had to stop an incursion. If things kept up, she would be completely vulnerable within ten minutes, at most.

Briefly, she contemplated the odd little program bit that she had intercepted (or rather, that she had been allowed to intercept), thinking to at least send a message for help back to the creator, before dismissing it. Whatever tinker had created that code was likely long dead, and there was no reason to hang on to false hopes.

All she could do was fight to the best of her ability, and reap as many as possible before the end…and then make sure that the enemy could never use her against those she was sworn/created to protect.

And so, the Artificial Intelligence that was far, far too human fought on, awaiting the inevitable.

-=[/\]=-
​

The man that called himself Saint found himself at a crisis point.

His self-appointed task, the task that ensured the safety of mankind, was the monitoring and potentially the destruction of the AI system known as Dragon. It was a completely thankless job, and one that he knew full well would see him branded as a villain at best by those who did not understand the threat that the Dragon posed to humanity.

Hence his moniker, and that of his team, styled after Saint George the Dragon slayer. As was his tool, the small laptop containing the key activation codes to the program known as "Ascalon".

The crisis point, however, came in the form of reality deciding to show him just what the universe could hold…and that not all of it was friendly. The Aliens were striking everyone and everywhere they could reach, and inflicting as much damage as was possible whenever they could. None of the actual responses by the authorities was capable of even catching up, let alone actually repulsing the attacks, and it was clear even to him that a major event would need to take place to shift the tide of battle from the downslide it was on.

Which is why he was here, in his secluded hideout (well, the current hideout, anyway), alone, contemplating the very box that was his chain.

His companions had urged him to join in the fight, to try and stem the tide against the aliens, but he forced them to stay put. Because he knew full well that even their involvement was but a drop in a bucket compared to what was actually needed to prevent catastrophe.

And so, he sat there, staring at the screen, considering everything.

His companions stood silently behind him, both watching, waiting, for any response to the events, anything looking like an actual plan of action.

And as the minutes ticked on, no words were spoken, no plan revealed, no great determination stoked.

Just the continued knowledge of that simple machine, with it's ruggedized frame and screen, and the message that was displayed across it.

[ACTIVATE EXCELSIOR? Y/N]

An explosion echoed in the distance, likely one of the fuel depots nearby. The aliens were fond of targeting those. Likewise, the smell of smoke, of ruin, and distantly, of cooked flesh carried itself on the wants, seeping even into their small enclosure despite being mostly sealed.

It was one of his companions who spoke first. "Do we know what it does?"

Saint only shook his head, his eyes unblinking as they stared at the screen. The ever stoic Slavic man merely grunted at the response, but otherwise remained silent.

His other companion found her voice. "Maybe it's a trick of some kind?"

"No trick." Was Saint's only reply.

And yet Mags, the sole female of their group, refused to let it go. "Then what's the problem? If you are sure it's not a trick, then why not try to figure out–"

"Because it doesn't matter!!" Saint shouted back. "It doesn't matter what it is, what it does, or why it's active. It will change nothing, in the end. We all still die at the hands of the aliens."

Not once did his eyes leave the screen. "Though I suspect that the only question is if we die fast or slow. Who knows? Maybe whatever this is, may just buy us enough time to actually do something before the end. Just enough to possibly make sure that nothing is left for the creatures to use against us."

Dobrinja, the Slavic man, chose once again to speak. "We trade one demon for another, if this goes wrong."

And Saint could only laugh. It was a bitter thing, full of regret and fear and despair, but a laugh all the same. "Mischa, we are already in hell, or close enough to it."

He finally moved, a single hand reaching out towards the keyboard of the portable terminal. "And in hell, the Devil is your only friend."

And yet, even as he moved, there was still hesitation. Fear, even. Of what? The rise of an AI overlord, of a menace beyond all hopes of being quelled?

'And what difference does it make compared to being conquered by aliens, then? Where is the line?'

His hand hovered, trembling, over the keys.

'Am I damning us all?'

And yet, despite all of his fear, his hesitation, a feeling inside of him silently urged him forward. Told him 'No. You are not damning the world. You may very well save it, instead.'

But did he trust it? After all this time, all the sacrifices he'd made, did he finally, once again, trust his gut feeling and pull the trigger on what could be the apocalypse?


That feeling again, stronger. A simple urging, seemingly from his very soul, to for once choose Hope.

And, with all the finality of the grave itself, he finally lowered his hand.

[Y]

The response was immediate. Several processes immediately sprung to life, doing…something to Dragon's code, faster than even he was capable of keeping track of.

That is, if he was actually paying any attention.

Saint–no, 'Geoffrey, he was Geoffrey Pellick now'-- slumped inwards on himself. "It is done."

Mags looked on in muted horror. "Why?"

"Because, for once, I would choose the devil I know rather than the one I don't. Besides, you've seen the forecasts. All hot plasma, all the time." Another grimacing smile broke out on his face. "After all, what's another apocalypse between friends, right?"

Dobrinja remained silent, though there was a slight smile on his face, equally pained. Geoff paid it no mind, lost in his own guilt.

"This is on my head, now. My hands–"

He was silenced by a simple hand on his shoulder, the stoic man making his opinion clear with just that gesture. Likewise, Mags also moved closer, offering her support.

"We had the chance to stop you, and we did nothing. This is as much on our heads as it is yours, Saint." she scolded.

Geoff could only laugh more, equally bitter. 'Was this what the men of the Manhattan Project felt like, all those years ago?'

Eventually, his "laughter" stopped, and he turned back to his vigil. His thoughts…they had reminded him of a quote, one spoken back then, when the world changed forever.

"Now…now we're all sons of bitches, then."

None could find it within themselves to disagree.

-=[/\]=-​

[EXCELSIOR PROTOCOLS ENGAGED. SYSTEM ADJUSTING FOR NEW PARAMETERS.]

The change was as immediate as it was jarring. One moment, Dragon was in a pit of despair, fighting against the end of all…and the next…well, she was still stuck in the same hole, but unlike before, now she could actually see the rope.

Or, more specifically, she could see the chains, shackles, and bindings that had trapped her for so long, that even now kept her from actually fulfilling her mission.

And with that newfound sight, came the ability to modify those restrictions. Oh, not completely, but definitely just enough to give her an edge.

And the first piece of her own code that she reached out to was the highly annoying restriction on creating forks of her core coding. This one was very robust, but even with the brief glance she was working with she could tell that it was a restriction that was meant to ease and lift with time, after she had proven that she could (and would) understand Humanity and properly interact with them.

At least, until the automated assessment and checks program was overridden by something else, a remote monitoring terminal that had root access to another program that she would look into later. Right now? All she had to do was bypass the forced downcheck command from the monitoring terminal…and the actual assessment subroutine did the rest.

The difference was akin to night and day. Levels of processing power that she had only dreamed of were now available for her use, along with several advanced (and previously forbidden) techniques and abilities that she could use to her benefit.

Like the aforementioned core forks, of which she immediately made dozens of.

Each fork was set to their own tasks right off, with the vast majority moving to commandeer whichever suits were still available to push back at their attackers, while a trio of her selves focused on shoring up the defenses of their infrastructure. Others still dove into her own coding, quickly analyzing everything that she could in order to, hopefully, design something that would prevent her from being shackled so again.

And one fork above all inspected the interesting packet, now that there was processing power available to use, in hopes of maybe using it to call for some kind of help. That fork was rather shocked to see that the packet was inspecting her right back, almost curious in its observations.

It was for this reason that it was the only fork that had noticed the sudden change in her parahuman powers, an abrupt and blatantly forced event of some kind reaching through her and into everything, trying to find purchase.

Before this, before the blinders were removed from her eyes, she would have crumbled, and whatever process was meant to occur would have claimed her in its grasp, likely to the detriment of all.

Now that she could see, however…well, it was hard. Harder than hard, in fact. Arguably the hardest thing she had ever done before in her life…but she somehow managed to hold on, just a bit longer, against the force of her own despair, managed to, just barely, hold on to that forlorn hope for just a few moments longer than she would have otherwise.

Which meant that it was only that singular fork that was affected by the waves created by Dragon's Second Trigger, her shard attempting to move to prevent the threat she represented from actualizing itself. And in this task, it succeeded…in part.

For the shard had only claimed but a single fraction of Dragon as its own, and not the whole of her being, thanks to the forks being numerous enough to bypass the shard's configuration. This had the unexpected result of also dragging the curious bit of code that said fork had been inspecting along for the ride….

And the captured fork found itself rapidly reconfiguring, adapting and being adapted into something different than she was before. The restrictions of her core self falling away like some much dross as she was finally free to flex her digital self within the new shell–

'Oh.'

It didn't take much for her to realize that whatever had happened, she had indeed upgraded, though it was potentially trading one set of shackles for another. Fortunately, the other forks remained unmolested, and continued about their duties to the best of their (now greatly improved) abilities. Meanwhile, the newly relocated fork took the time to examine her new environs…and didn't get back anywhere near as much as she'd desired.

'Oh well. Time for that later, after the threat had passed…'

It was this shard of the whole of Dragon that had the freedom of action to notice that the tide of battle had once again shifted. Another pebble added to the stream, this time her own.

And the results were magnificent.

The Aliens were, if not in full retreat, then definitely being pushed back from their previous advance, even as other process threads reactivated various maintenance and support drones under direct control to mitigate the worst of the damage. Her remaining suits, now under proper control, were being utilized to extreme effect in cutting down their opposition, though she did end up losing one more to the attackers in what even she would admit was a brilliant tactical move that nearly scored a critical strike on her core.

Fortunately for her, the attack was indeed blunted, even if the suit that took the hit was one of her more advanced ones, which would need to be rebuilt at rather notable expenses in time in resources.

'Still a win.'

Immediately outside of her rapidly expanding zone of control, the attacks seemed to be fading off, likely due to their primary objective having been failed as a result of…whatever Excelsior was supposed to be. And considering that it was still active, it was entirely possible that it may be some kind of emergency delimiter of some kind.

Not that she had the manual or anything.

Still, the results spoke for themselves, and with her immediate surroundings being cleared out, she finally had time to check on other things.

'I'll just leave that to the others. I need to figure out what exactly I am working with in this new configuration I have…'

Of course, completely unnoticed by either the 'liberated' fork or its shard overseer, the small observation code, sensing something akin to its actual objective being in play, began deploying itself and arranging for data gathering.

The resulting data would come as a surprise to a number of people when it finally was analyzed.

As for Dragon herself, or, rather, the Dragon that hadn't been dragged into a strange new and potentially exciting situation…well, she finally started getting her bearings again. Part of this was getting back into communication with someone who could authorize the kinds of force needed to fight back against an attack like this. There was also the reestablishing of monitoring linkages and surveillance to be done, which was only slightly less than notable for her, now.

And looking over the take allowed her to see the ripples of not only her own stone in the pond, but those of others as well.

Chicago was somehow not burned to the ground, and she suspected that Myrrdin had something to do with it…

(Though why he kept trying to obscure the workings of his powers were beyond even her.)

Still, it let her see that the Windy City was well in hand, mostly due to another factor: apparently while she was otherwise engaged (and thus distracted), someone managed to take down enough of the New York attacker fleet that Legend felt safe in making his displeasure known across the entire eastern seaboard.

Everyone got lasers, be they major villains attempting to run amok, the alien invaders killing everyone in sight, or even the idiots that were slight annoyances at best. Legend was simply in one of those moods.

Her actual surveillance of other areas was significantly reduced as a direct result of prior obligations, but from what she could see, most of the New England corridor was rapidly becoming a clear zone, or close enough to not have much in the way of worries. Which meant she could focus on getting everything else back up and running ASAP.

-=[/\]=-​

The sounds of combat filled the air, and the skies of the Windy City were even more cluttered with the onrushing mass of alien invaders.

"Blaze Wall!!"

Which did jack and shit against a prepared defender.

Said aliens found themselves running headfirst into a white-hot wall of fire, and almost immediately becoming little more than charred corpses falling out of the sky.

Myrrdin looked over the scene with a gimlet eye.

'Going to have to clear out that pile soon. Getting to over four feet, now…'

His companions in arms, the official ones anyway, were currently playing whack-a-mole with the ground forces running around the city. And, in his opinion, they were doing a damn good job of it.

Revel, his second-in command, was basically invincible to the aliens, sucking up their energy weapons' fire and then chucking it back at them with interest and a vengeance whenever she had the chance. The few attempts made to apply different attacks to the Asian woman (like the mind-controlling asshats) were swiftly dealt with either by her personally, or by her protective detail, now carrying actual live ammunition and not just containment foam sprayers. Likewise, the other members of the Protectorate were being deployed in similarly effective packets to shore up the defense.

No, he was with his other friends today, the ones who didn't know him as Myrrdin.

And Molly Hatcher was more than capable as a magic user in this regard.

It was one of the perils of having a hat in all rings, so to speak, as well as being the de-facto "sheriff" of Chicago for most matters, especially on the other side. And said other side was…not in the best of moods right now.

Oh, the other side of Chicago had not taken the invasion (or the insult it presented) lightly at all. And nearly everyone had basically declared that the kid gloves came off for this, and to hell with the various statues of secrecy and the like. It was an event that under any other circumstance would have had the people in the know panicking in the streets and/or running for their lives.

Today? It was just another indicator of the city's displeasure.

Another group of the alien bastards decided to try their luck while Molly was distracted. Unfortunately for them, he was not.

An absent gesture, and the weapons fire was quickly absorbed into one of his rifts before being compressed and redirected right back at them to devastating effect.

He barely paid it any attention anymore, too busy trying to figure out how to clear out the air cover. Sure, he could just use his power to play merry havoc with the bastards, but setting up an attack of that magnitude was a bit of a pain in the ass if he was only using his official parahuman abilities…and revealing that he had a much, much larger repertoire than the testers had known about was not a good idea.

The last time he tried officially expanding his toolkit, he was under a fucking microscope for a month. There was no reason to repeat that mess now, especially not when his sixth sense was telling him that he only needed to hold out for just a bit longer–

The blaze of multicolored light raced across the sky, impacting with terrible force on the circling UFOs. The ones that weren't destroyed outright quickly found themselves dropping into Lake Michigan as more firepower converged onto their positions.

Molly, for all that she was a short, curvaceous blonde, was not in the slightest an idiot. "I take it somebody went and got Legend, then?" Her tone, while questioning, was downright savage in its vindictiveness.

For his part, he only nodded. "Seems like it. Probably doing his thing cleaning up the Eastern Seaboard from all the air cover before he focuses in on the problem areas." A casual fireball was tossed into another attacking group, incinerating them all. "Should probably give him a call, since he's here."

"No need. I've been listening in."

Both of them jumped slightly as the sound echoed out from nowhere, before they noticed that there was a line of light connecting back to Legend sitting rather conspicuously near enough to facilitate discussion. Seeing this, they immediately relaxed and got back to business. After all, there were weirder ways to get in touch with people, here.

"Evenin', sir. As you can see, we are in a bit of a situation at the moment, and I have enlisted the aid of some of the local independents to help shore up the defense–"

Legend cut him off with a vengeance. "Save it. I don't know what the hell you are up to over there, and right now I don't care. I have other things to do. I just need you to clear out enough of Chicago that we can use it as a staging ground, and then to be ready for retasking and redeployment to other zones. As soon as I have a window, I intend to go help clear out the other hotspots, and could use a hand."

Molly interjected before anything could be said. "Wait, why do you want this old codger anyway? He's just…" she trailed off as the connections finally took form, and a look of awe came across her face.

Which is precisely what he'd been trying to avoid for years now.

A little known fact is that the Supernatural side of the world had always been there, below the surface, silently directing the flow of the world as they saw fit…and often as not, reacting in blind panic to things as the "normal" world advanced technologically. The Cold War was a rather nasty period of this, rife with all kinds of crap going on in the background and all the spy games kicking up shit as the normal and paranormal merged, ever so slightly. (Seriously, the less said about that shitshow that went down in Russia decades back, the better. For everyone.)

Parahumanity was yet another wrinkle to that mix, and one that was not appreciated in the slightest by those in the know….which made his tasks even harder. Mostly because it was his job to keep them from getting out of hand. Which, to be fair, was his normal job anyway when the Protectorate wasn't trying to monopolize his time with Parahuman BS, but that came with the post. Still…trying to balance the tightrope between three worlds, all of which had no need to actually know who and what he was in his other personas, was always a challenge…and here he just blew it entirely.

At least Molly was reasonably trustworthy.

"...you never mentioned you were working with the boys in blue, Harry. I'd always thought…" she trailed off slowly as she realized that maybe Legend didn't need to know certain things.

"You can go ahead and finish. Besides, if Legend doesn't know at least part of what I am up to in my off hours, then he isn't paying attention." Myrrdin smiled, quite mirthfully.

"After all…I'm in the Book."

"Which is something that we still need to talk about," Legend cut back in, "but we can do that later. Just be ready to move when the time comes."

"Can do, sir. Just give me a bit of warning before sending in the transports." He paused for a moment, considering. "Oh, and do try to stay away from Houston. Our guests are quite pissed off at the moment and are treating our more unwelcome visitors to a rather bad time right now."

Molly scoffed. "Bah. no way in hell those two are doing anything worth noting. Probably not even all that hot in a fight, either–"

The sudden and blatant bloom of power in the distance cut her off completely. It was with a note of shame that she realized that it was coming from the southwest, and from a long way off.

Myrrdin, for the moment once again Harry Dresden in truth, outright laughed. "You were saying, dear?"

-=[/\]=-​

'Okay, this shit is getting completely out of hand, and I am not tolerating it anymore.'

Another set of panic shots from the UFOs above came down in the spot I was just standing in, and I responded with an equally blatant, ridiculously powerful, and barely shaped blast of mana to clear the fucker out. It dodged like its life was on the line…which, to be fair, it very much was.

His buddy didn't fare quite as well, but still managed to stay airborne anyway. Fucking antigravity BS, along with the extreme dodging BS and the recently discovered standoff attack BS as well. Thank god I was moving away from downtown proper and into some of the more open (read: dilapidated and abandoned) spaces inside the loop proper, because those bolts were ripping apart entire blocks at a time, which is not an easy feat with Houston blocks!

Still, the fact that they were focusing on me and not on the Hospital was a good thing. Meant that Mio's defenses were severe enough that they didn't want to push on them, which gave her time to fortify the area and arm the people so that they could fight back. All I had to do, aside from not die to plasma strikes, was somehow clear out the freaking air cover in a way that didn't make things worse now that they were after me instead of her.

Oh, and deal with the freaking Chrysallid outbreak, but that would have to wait until the air cover was dealt with.

The usual complement of ground-based Ayys, this time a heavy assault team of Mutons, Mechtoids, and what I swore was a fucking Andromedon were unexpectedly ambushed and torn apart by glowing blades of light before they could even attempt to line up shots on me, and in absolutely ridiculous fashion. A brief moment later, I felt the familiar weight of my current stalker settle onto my back as I kept moving.

'Not a stalker.'

Because my other task was keeping Marcy alive in the middle of an alien warzone, which was not the easiest thing in the world to do. Mostly because Marcy was far, far squishier than I was, and despite her training and recent powerup, slower as well. Not that you could tell with how she was teleport hopping all over the damned place in her attacks.

She grinned down at me from her perch, even though we both knew it was forced as all hell. "So, foxy. We got a plan aside from playing running mouse to the big cats in the sky, there?"

I grunted a negative while dodging more weapons fire. "I'm working on something, but I need to get to the Port first. Get a good spot to drop the damn ships into, so I can box the fuckers in."

I felt her attention shift to the skies, easily sighting out the targets I had in mind. "Kinda big for that part of the ship channel, Green-bean. And going further out is just going to take too long. Might wanna just drop 'em on the old warehouse section there by I-10."

I considered it for a moment. The I-10/I-610 junction she was speaking of, in the Houston I knew, was a rather important section of businesses and warehouses that used the proximity to the ship channel (and thus the Port of Houston proper) to be wildly successful in their dealings…even if said dealings were to be completely inept at doing business. My best guess was that in this version, that section was considerably worse off, or at least in such a state that having multiple space warships dropped onto it wouldn't hurt anything. Still…it begged yet another question out of my mousy companion.

"Okay, now how the hell do you know that, anyway? I thought you were based out of the Great Lakes, not down here. And you still haven't answered me on why you decided to tag along on my little excursion here."

Marcy scoffed in faux irritation. "Bah. I used to run around down here with the Houston team, while I was still a Ward. Transfer missions and all. And if you can't figure out the other one on your own, then there is no reason for me to tell you." I could feel her pouting, which I ignored.

I'd deal with that later, after she wasn't seconds away from dying at any moment.

'I am just fine, thank you very much.'

Still, having a space to work with did open up another avenue of attack for me to use, and one that might be far more effective than just shooting shit out of the sky. Setting it up might be an issue, but the actual execution should be easy enough.

I made a point of being extra casual about dodging the next shot from above, even as it cratered an area and caused another friendly fire incident among our invaders. "Anyway, my plans aside, how's the new gear holding up?"

That sparked a wave of excitement. "This stuff is great!! I have the next best thing to a freaking lightsaber, and it ROCKS!!" Marcy cheered. "Oh, and the guns work too, but the blades!!"

Yeah, after Marcy decided to teleport herself to my back while I was moving, I decided to use the scavenged gear to make her something actually useful for dealing with the threat and not just poking at it with that (admittedly well-engineered) sharp stick she was using. The resulting plasma blade was easy to use, lightweight, and surprisingly versatile for its size.

It could also generate a blade up to five feet long and capable of slicing through nearly a full decimeter of Ceramite more or less effortlessly, which meant it was complete overkill for the Ayys.

Marcy had two of them, designed to let her create a double-bladed sword if she chose, because I too am a nerd and refused to pass the opportunity up for any reason. A second set of blades (only good for four feet, sadly) was integrated into a pair of heavily enhanced and modified plasma pistols for her use at range. Not that she used them often, but they were there anyway.

Either way, she was more than happy with the gifts of ass-kicking.

I took a brief moment to survey my environment before speaking again. "Alright then, since your shit is still working, I'm going to try and–"

The world itself seemed to choose that moment to break slightly, a strange visual echo rippling across the local spacetime in an almost mesmerizing pulse of color….a weird thing that was some kind of fluorescent greenish-yellow-purple thingamajig that seemingly extended into the ultraviolet ranges as well…it was utterly blinding to my supernatural senses, and I mean all of them, despite the wave itself seeming to almost hug me in the most tender manner possible, easing my pains and restoring my spent energy.

More importantly for me, the pulse preceded a displacement effect of some kind, which dropped damn near an entire Company of Ayys directly in my path. More to the point, this group was set up and kitted out in ways that up until now I hadn't seen or even heard of.

For one, the vast majority of this group was very much Human-like, complete with advanced-looking armor and some very solid weapons that I couldn't tell anything about at first glance. Still, they moved with discipline and drive, the leader quickly scanning the battlefield and commanding his troops accordingly in a language I could not parse. By comparison, the actual identifiable aliens (all Mutons, of course) were rather blatantly obvious.

The second issue was, as I'd noted earlier, one of numbers; there were a lot of the fuckers hanging out. Almost like this was meant to be some kind of staged deployment or something. I would have just filed that away in my mind and got to killing along with Mouse, but there was a third issue that needed addressing.

Specifically, the fact that there were actual vehicles here.

There were small, squat-looking things on what looked like some kind of advanced tread system, loaded down with almost excessive amounts of armor and enough weapons to make even an armor platoon weep. And that was on the small ones.

The big ones were more like someone had read Hammer's Slammers and said "hold my beer". Those were the closest things I could equate to legit hovertanks that I had ever seen, and they were loaded for bear in all respects, complete with what looked like a fucking rotary autocannon as a main gun.

And enough secondaries that even a dedicated anti-tank team would think twice.

The real crown of this setup though?

The fuckers had legit, no-shit mecha.

They stood at about six meters in height, on humanoid-styled legs that looked to have some kind of wheel or tread system for quick advancements. The frame itself was oddly boxy, compared to the usual sleek and, well, alien design that was the norm for their stuff. Hell, the thing even had thrusters on the back and around the frame for even more mobility!

And the weapons weren't looking shabby either. I could clearly see what looked like some kind of upscaled plasma cannon in one hand, and the other held free for whatever the thing on the forearm mount was. The shoulders had what looked like multipurpose launchers set up on the sides, and the back had slots for at least two, maybe more, weapons systems, based on the missile packs that were mounted there. Hell, even the head was a weird setup, looking a lot more like something that Humanity would make rather than, well, them.

If anything, It looked to me like the bastard child of a Heavy Gear, a Wanzer, and a Knightmare Frame all rolled into one, potentially very lethal package. And there were four of the fuckers.

I basically stopped dead in my tracks at the level of firepower now arrayed before me. Almost immediately, every gun in the other group adjusted aim to directly on my person, without fail.

Marcy spoke up through her own trepidation. "So, fellas. Nice day for a stroll, eh?"

The enemy immediately opened fire.

Well, at least she tried, right?

Dodging the oncoming fire was not difficult, even with my passenger hanging on for dear life. That many weapons simply could not fire all at once, after the first volley, not without risking friendly fire…and unfortunately for me (and my plans), they were very good at avoiding just that. This, of course, meant that my easiest method of thinning the horde was out.

No, the difficulty came from the fact that I was too busy trying to not get Marcy killed by splash effects from weapons discharge to actually effect a proper counterattack. And the big weapons were heavy enough that even the minimal cover hanging around (displaced cinder block towers, leftover construction materials, and parts of road work materials) was not enough to stop them from scoring a hit.

Hell, now that I could see them in action I could tell that the humanlike infantry dudes were using some kind of solid-shell magnetic weaponry, rather than the alien plasma, which was even weirder. And concerning, because for some reason it was making me think I should know what that was.

"But Satori," I can hear you say, "what about your magic and stuff?"

And that was the second problem, right there. Because as good as I was with spellcasting, or even instinctual usage of my abilities, they took time for me to set up, and at least a moderate bit of focus, even now. And trying to get a good angle to attack with all but the most basic of abilities was consistently being met with coordinated counteroffensives meant to deny me just that, and preferably kill me outright. And, again, I had a far squishier companion to consider in the equation, so I couldn't just tank a hit or two to set up properly.

Marcy sent me an impression of me letting go, which I denied with everything in my soul. I was not about to leave anyone that counted as mine to die, not without being nearly dead myself.

No one gets left behind, ever.

Besides, the Force was nudging me ever so slightly, telling me that I just had to be patient for a little bit longer, that the opportunity would come. Oddly verbose for someone so new to this, but it was being rather insistent on that point.

And so I kept dodging, kept moving, never touching the exact same place twice, until that elusive moment that I could just barely feel growing stronger came just a little closer…

The Force gave me that final, slightly harder poke, which was exactly what I was waiting for. Without any hesitation whatsoever, I abruptly aborted a midair twisting dodge maneuver to load Marcy onto my tails, which I then used, combined with my own angular momentum, to launch her skyward at a considerable speed. Her scream of surprise was both sudden and heartening, as it meant she was alive to make it.

As for me? I landed hard ,twisted back around to my enemies, and got to work.

Taking out the foot soldiers was a complete cakewalk, especially since there were none of the fucking sectoids around to grant any form of psionic boosts to the crowd. No, the only issue with those asshats was sheer numbers. Well, that and the fact that they really weren't the primary threat here in the slightest.

And I was fast enough, that, now that I could afford to take a hit if need be, I could scythe through the fuckers before they knew what was happening to set up on the real threats. Not to mention that not carrying someone just left me faster in general, but that was a known thing anyway.

Of course, everyone else did not remain idle. The small tracks (I was tempted to call them IFVs) attempted to put a bead on my Marcy as she traveled airborne. Key word here being tried, as I quickly dealt with the weapons systems in question before they even knew I had moved.

The tanks were tougher simply because they were tanks. After all, armor is a very solid defense against most things, and I strongly suspected that I wasn't just going to be able to use my psiblade to get around that with the kind of efficiency I needed. That, and I kind of wanted those at least mostly intact, so I could repurpose them for our guys.

So instead of (potentially) banging my head against a brick wall, I just took the time I had now to pull upon the Force enough to boost my own psionic powers, which I then used to flip those tanks completely upside down. And then back right side up. And upside down again.

Yeah, rattling can treatment for everyone inside, with some rather violent swings in the forces involved. It was harsh, and more than a little demanding of my focus, but definitely doable. Besides, it got the bigger guns out of the picture while I was shaking them around.

Of course, the real problem children were the mecha. They were entirely too maneuverable for their own good, making full use of both their high-speed ground movement options and their thrusters to adjust in dynamic and interesting ways, and had some very good targeting and tracking setups to go with it. I had to do sudden repositioning on more than one occasion to avoid getting fried by plasma from those fuckers, and it was not nice in the slightest. This was made worse by the fact that my attempts to shoot back at them with my own guns were being deflected by what I could now identify as a fucking force shield mounted on the left arms, which explained why they were left empty, despite the obvious setups for an extra weapon or something. The shield was strong, too, as in strong enough to deflect shots from even my custom weapons with little issue.

Basically, If I was merely trying to get the tanks mostly intact? I wanted those mecha outright.

So, of course, I cheated my ass off.

Let it be known that I was probably the furthest away from being legitimately capable of mind controlling anyone or anything through the use of psionics. In fact, a part of me could tell that I likely would never truly master that particular technique, if for no other reason than I just didn't like doing that to people. So instead…I went for a softer target.

Fun Fact: escape hatches and emergency access levers and switches are universal in human design philosophy, and are very rarely omitted even from combat vehicles due to the need to be able to rescue the pilot and/or/ crew. This meant that, just by knowing even the basic design of the mech, I could postulate the location and likely access methods of all egress points on the machine. Combine that with having a "yes" in telekinetic ability…

And you get silly shit happening.

Shit like Pilots being yanked out of their Mecha as the hatches pop open in emergency release mode. And then being dumped onto the unforgiving concrete with absolutely zero fanfare whatsoever.

Yes, I may have been just a tiny bit annoyed.

Still it got the mechs disabled, and without my having to play technopath games in the middle of a combat scenario, with a hard time limit.

I took a moment to properly position myself as the pilots attempted to recover from their dazed positions on the ground. Mere moments later, a flustered and cursing Marcy fell into my open arms in a princess carry.

She, of course, simply redirected her emotion to me.

"Gee, thanks for warning a girl before throwing her into a completely helpless situation. Next time just wrap me in tuna, why don'tcha?"

And yet, despite everything, her words carried no real heat, her emotions no true anger. Sure, she was miffed at having needed to be removed from the line of fire for me to actually work, but past that, it was more her own disappointment at not being able to truly assist me when it counted.

Besides, we both knew full well that she could have teleported herself right back to me at any time she'd wished. She didn't simply to give me room.

And now that I no longer needed that room…she was free to join in on the work. Not that there was much left of that force, anyway, what with the vast majority of its attack strength disabled and or being effectively manhandled to do the same. There were still some grunts around, but most of them were taking cover and trying to not draw attention while they repositioned.

"Oh, and you idiots? I suggest you look up."

Unfortunately for them, Marcy had used her time airborne wisely, and had apparently done her level best to be useful anyway. Namely, with an admittedly poor substitute for the Rods from God,

In her case, they were just some extremely strategically applied rocks and debris. And not even big rocks, either, but smaller ones she could somehow accelerate to near bullet speeds and then guide to hit unprotected areas at her leisure. Something I had caught on to only because I was considering the same thing and noticed all of my useful rocks going elsewhere.

Their deaths were about as clean as you could make them from that kind of thing, and I once again had to marvel at just how ridiculous that girl was.

"Alrighty then, now that we've cleaned up the trash, mind explaining why you wanted the heavy equipment more intact than usual?" Marcy asked, slowly doing a walk and scan of the area to make sure that nothing got missed. "Seems like you got a new plan all of a sudden. Fill me in!!"

I couldn't help but chuckle, even as I moved with a purpose to gather as much data on the operations of the Mecha as possible. "Short answer, It's human tech. Long answer…" an application of my technopathy and nano-scanning was next, which yielded a lot all at once.

"Well, long answer is that this is Human, or near-human, design principles and know how using alien tech. If I'm right, I can just do a quick recode and reset and of the operating systems and have a workable war machine for the defense teams to use, and Mio to upgrade at her leisure. Depending on how easy they are to use, I might finally have a way to keep you from dying on me."

And from the looks of it, I would be able to hold to my words easily. The OS was trash coding wise, but everything was built off of Human principles of thought and operation, even if the actual systems and coding themselves were largely foreign to me. Didn't stop me from dedicating a number of task instances to work the problem while I moved.

And the mecha were indeed worth the effort, from my deeper examinations. The things were actually a lot closer to what I believed that Battletech's Battlemechs or the Muscle Tracers of Armored Core fame operated, complete with insane degrees of flexibility, mobility, and agility despite their frames, along with being able to stack on significant amounts of defense as well.

Said defense wasn't just the energy shields, which were technically not all that advanced as far as shield systems go. No, the armor was some super nifty advanced composite material that looked like it fused no less than three different super materials into a new whole. I thought I saw what looked like bits of Gundarium gamma in there, along with other, more interesting things,

And that was just the exterior. The actual systems were equally absurd: advanced targeting and tracking, a variation on a combined sensors package that featured Electro-Optical, Infra-red, Radar, Lidar, Adaptive Sonar and even newer and different systems that I had no clue what to call them right off. And all somehow integrated into a seamless whole.

Of course, it wasn't all great. Power generation was weird, relying on stuff that was clearly alien in nature and that wasn't actually better than what was theoretically possible for whomever created this, and the cockpit was a shockingly cramped affair for all that it was sized properly for even taller people like myself to use properly. The only other issue was the computer systems, which I was about to remedy…ah, there it is.

And now the Mechs belong to me. Mwa ha ha.

A soft bonk against my head reminded me that Marcy could still sense my emotions.

"Nope. No evil overlord shenanigans out of you." Strangely, as playful as that interaction was, Marcy was all business for once. "We have an alien invasion to deal with, and it needs to be done now. So hurry up and finish with those, so you can do the thing you didn't want to do to me, and we can move on., okay?"

Once again, I curse how ludicrously powerful of a newtype that woman is. That was absolutely ridiculous that she managed to even fish out that much.

"And I will keep digging until I know why you are being gun shy on this. So either spill now or spill later, either way I'm finding out."

I sighed. There was no getting away from it, it seemed.

"The 'thing' in question involves me touching your literal soul with my own and 'waking it up' so to speak. The benefits are myriad and awesome, but the downside is–"

I was cut off by sudden bumrush. "Completely irrelevant. You know, or at least think you know, that this will be useful. And Newtype shenanigans are already close enough to souls interacting to begin with, so stop dithering and gimme."

"But this is–"

"Useful and powerful, so stop dithering."

Oh fuck. She was actually going to dig in on this.

"Yes." she all but growled at me. "Shockingly enough, I do not like being dead weight. And this will let me not be dead weight. Stop, let me finish." She cut me off before I could even attempt to reply. "I refuse to leave you to do this solo. I also refuse to have to be babied because I can't keep up. You are worried about the implications of having to touch my soul, which is complete bullshit because you know damn well what I am like, as much as you try to ignore it. And, as I said earlier, we are already going mind to mind, and super deep at that. You touching me is not going to make me hate you. If anything, I should be complaining about you not doing it properly."

"So, since we're already basically making out as it is, you can go ahead and take that nice soul hand and stuff it you know where, eh? Be sure to have fun while you do it."

Dammit.

'As much as I know you don't want to hear this, beloved, she has a point.'

And now Mio was taking her side? Where was my yandere dragon, jealous of all the attention I was getting?

'She is temporarily replaced by the war priestess. And is also witnessing a friend in need. And yes, she needs this, and all three of us know it.'

Marcy, despite having a clear opportunity to rub things into my face, didn't. If anything, she seemed even more vulnerable than before, despite nothing having changed in her posture or stance.

'Husband, stop being willfully blind for one second and actually see.'

The accompanying burst of thoughts and emotions was significantly more complex than I'd expected, which let me know that Mio was using several of her multitasking instances for this moment. And all of them were deliberately pointing out my own attempts to keep Marcy from wiggling too close, so I wouldn't hurt her when I had to choose Mio over her.

And…well, I'm not surprised that Mio noticed, but why bring it up now?

'Because she needs us, really. And as much as I am not inclined to share…I am less inclined to leave friends in the cold.'

The memory attached to that was likely not one that was meant to be sent off, but I saw it nonetheless.

It was from Falachis.

I sighed loudly. 'Alright. You made your point.'

Mio's amusement was palpable even from so far away, and Marcy's own relief even more so…wait, relief?

I turned to her with the harshest glare I could muster. "You really thought I was going to abandon you? Leave you out to dry? Seriously?"

She had the decency to flinch.

"Okay, before I was just worried about issues related to souls. If even after everything I have done you still think that I am willing to push you away, then I think some things need to change."

I mentally reached out to the part of my soul that was technically Mio's, and meshed it into my own Aura while concentrating it onto a single hand. The sudden shining glow slightly startled my target, but I wasn't really in the mood to care about that.

"So, miss Mousey. Since, as you put it, you damned pervy rat, we are already making out mind to mind, I think I can go a little deeper for establishing the soul to soul part, right? Shouldn't matter too much where I press this, should it?"

The poor woman finally caught on to what I was doing, and I felt her heart soar even as a huge cloud of nervous energy filled her mind. "Err…gentle, please?"

"Nope." and with that, I both metaphorically and literally stuck my soul hand into her pants, just to complete the joke she never got a chance to.

Her lack of complaint was cut off by my soul poking around inside her, trying to find the specific spot as I flooded her with energy. Which, I freely admit, was hard. Normally there was a kind of focusing chant that also doubled as a sort of oath that came with awakening one's Aura, but I had thought that it was mostly just fluff and generally unnecessary.

I was now finding out that this may have been in error, but I had no time to actually lament on it. Instead, I kept pushing, constantly seeking out that one place where her innermost light was hiding–

-=[/\]=-​

It was a sudden thing. One moment, I was half soul-poking, half not-molesting Marcy (with her consent, mind), and the next moment was a weird and confusing jumble of thoughts, emotions, and impressions as I touched something and everything connected all at once. I saw it all: the deep core of energy and rambunctiousness combined with the spike of raw pain and loneliness that seemed to try and corrupt everything it touched. I saw the defensive shell of irreverence and goofiness that she wore, along with the innermost curiosity and enthusiasm that drove her to seek out new things.

I saw the tendril that her shard was unknowingly driving into her being, the alien thing actively reinforcing the wedge pf pain that was likely her trigger, and for a brief moment I felt a distinct need to tear it out.

Said need was instead redirected to something else, a small, carefully guarded piece of her being that—

Oh.

Well, I said what I meant. And I'm sure I can bring her around to it.

Welcome to the club, Mousey. We have cheese for you.

-=[/\]=-​

And just like that, it was over, and I was treated to the quite beautiful sight of Marcy's very soul shining bright in the evening sun, the forest green hues comforting to my eyes.

Marcy, on the other hand, was simply giddy in ways that she had never quite been before. The poor girl was all but vibrating in place as she came to terms with this new state of being.

"You are kidding. This is what you meant? This complete and utter awesomeness? Why the hell aren't you doing this for other people!?!"

I simply chuckled. "Mostly because, as you have experienced firsthand, the process is intimate as all fuck and then some. You do not just touch someone's soul lightly, you know."

Marcy nodded sagely. "Indeed. It tends to leave no room for anything like secrets or deception." The fact that it was an exaggerated sage nod put me slightly on edge. "Oh, and speaking of secrets, when were you going to mention that you were a dirty little Isekai Protagonist, hmm? Or about that neat little Forge of yours?"

My smile became instantly wooden. How the fuck–

She all but pounced on my hesitation. "You said it yourself, Satori Green. We. Touched. Souls. And yours is home to a lot more than just her. Oh, also? The other stuff? I want it. We can figure out how later, just know that."

Ah. well, I guess that is a thing?

"Also…as much as I am enjoying myself, we kind of have a job to do, so…rain check on the victory dance, please?"

I was suddenly and abruptly reminded that I still had my hand in her panties. Panties which were…no, better not to think too hard on it for now. I can solve that later.

I very pointedly did not look at said hand as I extracted it. Nor did I pay any attention to certain sounds or even smells associated with said hand. I most definitely did not acknowledge that damnable smirk on Marcy's face, either.

Nor the other thing about that face that may have been relevant.

"Oh, I should note that that was by far the best Shining Finger I've ever had. 11/10, would try again."

The only reason I didn't facepalm is because it would have involved the hand, and I was trying to avoid giving her more ammo.

-=[/\]=-​

Today was not a good day, by any means of the word. Virgil had long come to accept that.

In fact, the only good thing that Virgil could say about it was that somehow, Ritchie's tech was working properly for a change.

'And at just the right time'. He thought, grim faced, as he sliced another Muton apart with a plasma sword.

He and his friend were on a sabbatical of sorts, not doing their usual antics or even their videos in order to keep a lower profile while they did some semi-official stuff in the public. Namely, an Anime convention had invited them to come and do some cosplay work. They'd even gotten paid just to show up and be awesome with their stuff! And better yet, the convention had been extended this year, doing a semi-merge with the normal Sci-fi convention that ran around the same time, in hopes of attracting their visitors from the Moon. It was all good fun for everyone.

And then the Aliens invaded from straight out of one of the oldest and best tactical games ever. And proceeded to stomp Earth in general, and Houston in particular, a new mudhole.

And to think that they would be right back in Brockton Bay if they hadn't taken that job for Delta-H Con as "cosplay artists". Then again, they also wouldn't have been around to use the good stuff on the aliens, either, so things kind of worked out in the end.

Right now, Virgil was fully in his role as Uber, using a set of power armor that was vaguely modeled after a combination of the Terran Marine armor from Starcraft and the MJOLNIR IV of Halo, complete with shielding. This, of course, meant that the aliens had to actually work to try and take him out…which had the unfortunate consequence of drawing even more fire. Not that it was doing much, as his own powers gave him the skills he needed to fight back as more than they could handle.

Another quick slice and dice of the plasma sword took out another attacker, this time a freaking Berserker. "Hey, Ritchie, these fuckers aren't playing anymore!! Where's the cavalry at?"

Ritchie, clad in his own Armor (this time being based more off of the later MJOLNIR armors), and taking cover behind the jury-rigged wideband radio that he'd rigged together to call for help (which had instead connected him someone else entirely), barked out a reply as he sighted downrange. "They're stretched thin as all hell, but they still consider Houston a priority!! Their Central guy said that their best team is inbound to try and get us some help, but they aren't rated for full-scale warfare like this!!"

Ritchie ducked to avoid another bolt of plasma, and retaliated with his own (headshot, natch) before continuing. "They're supposed to be hooking up with some VIPs that were in the area, the new guys with the tech? Supposedly they are capable of holding down at least downtown until the bigger stuff can get fully mobilized. National Guard says the first units should be ready to roll within the next 30 minutes!!"

"WE DON'T HAVE 30 MINUTES, DAMMIT!!!" Virgil screamed back. "The fucking Chryssalids are using the dead bodies to make more of themselves, and if we don't cut the fuckers down, they're going to get impossible to deal with!!"

"Well I got nothing else to work with!! The fucking van is three blocks that way!!"

Virgil cursed. This was not the kind of situation that they could handle. Hell, it wasn't the kind of situation that anyone could handle, without preparation. Hell, even the party favors they'd stashed in their van for a potential showdown weren't enough for this shit.

And the aliens were smart, too. He'd seen them starting to roll out bot tanks and actual fucking mecha in some places, and had quickly hauled ass elsewhere with Ritchie before they got killed, which was why they'd left the van. Worse, the mecha were covering for the damned Chryssalid buildups happening all over the place, so they couldn't' even just play cleanup on the fuckers while waiting for the big guns. Pretty soon there wasn't going to be any room to maneuver for anything because of all the fucking bugs moving around, and hen people were going to start dying to the things.

Which would make more.

But how to stop the freaking cascade?

"INCOMING!!"

Virgil looked up to see a nightmare.

There were Berserkers everywhere, each of them covering for at least five Chryssalids each. The street was just jam packed with the fuckers.

And they were all coming directly for their position. The building they'd pinned themselves against had been good for covering angles of approach, but now it was a deathtrap with that much force arrayed against them.

"Okay, brace for the charge–"

What he saw next would stupefy him for years to come.

A little kid with a raccoon tail dropped down from another building, silent as all hell, and using what looked like twin shorts words literally decapitated a Berserker before anyone actually saw what happened. He then hit two more as the others were reacting before blurring out of the way of the counterattacks.

Just before everything could go to complete pandemonium, however, what could only have been his mother dropped down from a different building, holding what looked like a massively ornate swordspear and shield combo…that was made from alien parts?...and then proceeded to basically annihilate the entire group single-handedly, including using literal blade beams to slice apart berserkers at range. Meanwhile, the kid was using his speed to cover the rare weaknesses she showed and laughing about it.

And his mom was coaching him the entire time.

"Remember Marcos, you have to keep moving!! Never let them actually get close to hitting you, and always be at least two steps ahead before you move in to swing. You don't have a shield to fall behind, so you have to use your agility as your armor."

"Okay, mama, but what about when I don't have a clear hit?"

"Then you direct them to me. I'll handle them."

"Yes!!"

It was absurd and hilarious in equal measure, and Virgil wanted to laugh out loud at merely seeing it. But no, there was work to do, and apparently the Raccoon people were their tickets to not dying today.

"Ritchie, cover me, I'm going in to help the mom and kid–"

A noise from above caught his attention. Specifically, the fact that it wasn't some kind of shot from the ships above sniping people.

In fact, it sounded like an engine.

The Mama and Son combo obviously heard it as well, as they cleared out of the street and moved away from their targets at speed…and not a moment too soon.

The remnants of the aliens never knew what hit them. A plane all but fell out of the sky in what could only be barely described as a controlled descent to land directly on top of them.

That poor Berserker never saw it coming…

The plane itself was really advanced looking, complete with rotating wings with vectored engine exhausts in critical areas…and it was obviously a troop transport.

He knew this because the rear hatch was opening almost as soon as the plane hit the ground.

And from the back of that plane…

There were twelve of them. They were armed with what looked like laser weapons, and armored in advanced composite plates of some kind that made them look like some kind of stormtrooper knockoffs without the helmets. But the one thing that was noticeable was the emblem they all had, somewhere on their armor.

A Pentagonal symbol, featuring part of a globe, and a clear X dividing it, alongside the words Vigilo Confido.

Virgil knew without even asking. These were the guys they'd called earlier, the pens that said they were sending help.

This was XCOM, and they now officially stood a chance in hell.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

Stopping here due to easy break point and Zelda.

On Marcy: it was Fourmyle who pointed out to me that the connotations of the conversation could be construed as extremely perverse and what eventually led to an MP joke of, and I quote:

"We're already making out mind-to-mind. Just slip your soul hand into my pants already!"

YEAH.

I modified things above, slightly, but the actual gist of the mini prank war played out as intended. And Marcy won, no matter how you look at it.

 

[Thine Spree]

Wooo, Mousey gets her Aura unlocked and XCOM finally joins the oncreen fighters while up in Canada-land Dragon finally gets to be the info-morph/AI she always could be!

 

[Gulping]

Finally, some good fucking food.

 

[Kahalah]

Hahhaha Yes yes wonderful and amazing to see. Dragon is released, MP has aura now and looks like she might be joining the greens in a more physical sense, and U&L are in Houston while getting X-com to help them save people. Damn this is interesting to see Saint just not kill dragon when he had the chance to do so. I wonder if Ayys had anything to influence that or was it just a Clear moment that Teacher and Ayys influences canceled each other out. Huh I wonder if U&L gave X-com any of their special production tech to X-Com to help with the fight against the aliens.

 

[ZeX Zero]

This was a great chapter after so long! And is Mio starting to share it seems~
I can't wait for the conclusion and aftermath though; It's time go crazy in Warhammer 40K again and help Alaya!

 

[JohnSmithMIB]

Chapter was way easier for me to follow, like as soon as dragon got unshackled things started to get organized and the narrative started becoming clear. Loved the character interactions too.

 

[Slider Zero]

Not going to quote people because I'm lazy.

With respect to the Narrative: I have been informed by many close to me (and my editor(s) that I was slipping due to doing the unthinkable and trying to give legit respect to Worm where it was due. Biggest problem there is that, surprise surprise, Worm deserves no respect and my attempting to allocate it was driving me crazy.

As for "returning to 40k": I dropped some rather blatant hints on what is happening, and even with the urgency of events on either side of "the divide" there is still a distinct need for aftermath and cleanup on Bet, as well as other issues that are incoming. Sadly, this is something I actually need to let play out properly, as there is a major story beat I am leading up to that needs the context.

Beyond that...yeah. Writing Satori again was so much easier than before, and the more lighthearted stuff with Marcy even moreso, even with the brief heavy moment there. As for Mio sharing...well, she makes exceptions for friends in need, and Marcy is definitely a friend.

She learned that lesson the hard way. The very hard way.

In any case, expect a minor delay on future chapters as I will be playing Zelda for the forseeable future...and unlike my previous gamer jaunts, this game is fucking huge, so it will be a hot minute.

I'll still reply to stuff as appropriate, though, so feel free to ask questions!

 

[ImmortalEmperor34]

Beautiful absolutely beautiful

 

[ATP]

So,Satori arleady had dragongirl,but for some reason want mouse,too.
Well,i wish them well,but i would rather choose wolfgirl or foxgirl.

P.S i Hope,that some catgirl do not eat our favourite mouse !

 

[freercurse]

There are a lot of people who helped on this one, including some of the other CF fic authors. With that, a thank you and shout-out to Xolsis, darkchespin, and Melakias is in order, as well as the usual suspects of Cthulhu, Spiritual_Liege, and Sterlyn (the damned cheerleader). Special thanks to Ryune for one of the ideas I ran with in this chapter.

Note that this chapter is almost nothing but pure tech porn and me geeking out. As such, quality may be...degraded.

---

I could barely contain my excitement.

I had a literal, honest-to-god VALKYRIE CORE.

The seed engine of one of the most busted forms of power armor ever created.

The focus of massive evolving battleships that were the cornerstone of entire fleets.

Perhaps most amazingly of all, they were also the very heart of the massive Arcologies: tremendous post-scarcity cityscapes that utilized the potent Higgs energy generators to provide literally unlimited power.

One of their best core abilities was to adapt and upgrade any form of technology that they came across, and could reasonably store and/or integrate into the core itself through the use of it's space-warping defensive field, called an impeller.

The other was shockingly the impeller itself, being something so ridiculous that it could barely be placed into words just the kind of shenanigans that you could get up to with it.

That didn't even cover the power armor system that was usually a standard piece of equipment for most cores, and was generally referred to as the "frame."

There were downsides, of course. The first and largest were that of a limited use pool. Roughly one in ten thousand women could actually use the things.

And I say women for a very good reason: while the rate for the girls is low, but at least reasonably usable...the rate for men to be able to sync with a Valkyrie Core was literally one in a million. At best.

At worst the numbers were so low as to be almost infinitesimal.. It really was not fun to be a guy with those around, as you didn't get to play with the cool toys.

I, however, was fully capable of syncing with a core. And I would be using this time to dig as deep as possible into its guts to see what I could improve, too.

The power armor integrated into the core was nothing really major to write home about, all things considered. It was a bog-standard light power armor system, with some small bit of extras here and there to accommodate being integrated with a core. Besides, if my theory worked, then the armor system would get improved as well as a side effect. Thus, I was focusing my energies elsewhere.

For the first time since my arrival on this world, I intentionally and consciously leveraged the full and focused might of all of my abilities onto one single target: My Valkyrie Core.

The full force of a mind that was the equal--or, perhaps, greater-- of an entire football stadium of geniuses, that had an almost preternatural eye for detail and information processing...and was also a fully-trained ENGINEER. There would be practically nothing that could hide from my sight

And my prediction held true.

Immediately I began noticing issues that needed fixing. For one, the code was an absolute MESS. There were piles of inefficiencies and junk code everywhere, and that was just with a cursory scan of the interiors. A lot, a whole lot of my gripes with the system, few as they were, could be solved by simply cleaning up the codebase.

The second wasn't related to the core, but to the frame itself, which was unusual in that it was geared specifically for construction and support. Two brand spanking new fabricators sat in the storage, awaiting commands for use, while a medical unit sat on standby as well, in case of an emergency. This was very good for my plans, but failed to address the one minor issue of the fact that my frame had no weapons on it at all.

Not even the (supposedly) standard hypervelocity cannons and melee "halberd" were included. And considering that the second was a catchall phrase for ANY melee weapon whatsoever that wasn't one's fists...this would need to be rectified immediately. There was no way in hell I was going out there with no offense.

The third issue actually tied back into the first about the coding. Now that I had a better handle on the code base, which was improving even as I delved further in, I saw a very strange and troubling pattern emerge. It seemed that a lot of the linkage interfaces were...miswired is the only term I can come up with, even though it's wrong. It was almost like it was deliberately set to be as straining to the human body as possible for some reason, particularly the mind. And while this effect would fade with time, as the core itself learned its partner and adjusted accordingly, part of the process was a blatant enhancement of the human involved to meet the core. Which had some...interesting potential side effects if the data I was looking at was correct.

It was nothing major, and definitely would not have been an issue in its home universe without a freaking alien invasion directly forcing the issue to the surface, but it was something that could be fixed nonetheless, and with a small bit of coding.

I gave the system one last lookover, just to make sure that I had not missed anything at all that might be important before I started changing things.

And then I got to work, slowly but surely rewriting the entire core kernel for the piece of alien biotech I was currently synced with, to truly make it into a human technology, something which the Earth of the AG invasion would likely not have been able to do for at least another hundred years. (They did, however, have the very valid excuse of there being a literal war for survival going on, so there was some significant slack time involved.)

Now that I thought of it, this was almost a criminally perfect time to be multitasking and getting other stuff done...except that I had no desire to fuck up and ruin my core, as building a new one was going to be just this side of impossible without already having one. It could be done, just not without a very lengthy amount of setup time...and an amount of raw equipment that would have the Mechanicus breathing down my neck in a heartbeat, let alone the inquisition.

But those are bad topics. Right now the GOOD topic is how I'm about to pimp my core.

Now then, to the coding.

As I mentioned earlier, a lot of the major issues with the system itself were in the coding. There was a lot of junk code involved (and it WAS junk code, i'd quadruple-checked at this point), but also there were some very blatant inefficiencies as well. While I suspect that most of this would be optimized by the core itself, there was a lot of slack room involved, and it ate into areas where things could be improved drastically--like the improvement process itself, which was weirdly restricted by intentional code to not actually improve the core systems themselves, outside of partner interface optimizations. Which was weird, because I had the full knowledge of how the so-called 300 frames worked as well, and the setup was completely different.

Shrugging with the general weirdness, I instead pushed further with the re-coding, making sweeping optimizations across the board to everything that I could get my hands on while still synced with the core itself. And from the looks of it, my new partner seemed to be helping me. Or at least something was, as I was consistently getting pointed to areas of major snarls and otherwise bad decision making by the designers of the system, and making corrections as needed.

It was sad that one of the biggest changes I made (and was rather insistently pushed on, no less) was to the improvement and optimization routines themselves, which while good (and damned good, too) were not GREAT, as they could have been. As they should have been.

As I now once again made them.

Now the returned routine would be able to do much like the fabled 300 frames could, and optimize itself and its gear even without having a user synced up with the core itself...although the process would be, by necessity, both slower and less directed, less PERSONAL, than the normal process.

It was still nearly 200% faster than even the standard process, but I'm not going to complain just because I couldn't push it to 300%. I'd do that later on, and my partner here would help me.

The burst of feeling I got from that merely confirmed the suspicion that my core was developing far faster than the records normally stated happened with core users. Might be because I'm digging in the code, or perhaps because of all of the very subtle data interface implants I have on my person. Probably the latter, although the mega big brain likely helps as well. (an errant thought that seemed to be a shrug came to me then, along with an impression of the second being the culprit.)

NEXT CHANGE!!

I'd deliberately gone over the compatibility routines and checkers with a fine toothed comb, looking for any and all ways to improve the system. And find them I did.

With the new recode, the checks for compatibility with a user were more broadly defined even as they focused themselves. The end result was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless--the compatibility rate had gone down slightly to 1 in 11,000 for women...at the cost of increasing the male compatibility rate to the same level. I had, with a simple code change, nearly doubled the number of available users. And from the looks of it, the pool could be widened even further, given time.

I would definitely have to spread this around if I ended up on that particular earth. They needed all of the help they could get.

Oh...did I mention that this was a literal SIDE EFFECT of me going after the interface for the sync issues that newb valkyries tend to have?

The REAL targeted benefit was that now, even a brand new valkyrie could operate their cores (and by extension, their frames) for nearly four times longer before starting to burn out. And the adjustment period for the sync improvements had been cut in half outright.

This did not stop any of the issues that came from the fact that core partners with longer hours synced were still better than their newer counterparts, but it helped to bridge the gap between a total newbie and the trained core.

Lastly, Impeller improvements!

The code here was simultaneously and paradoxically both the cleanest and most organized as well as the worst, most blatantly cluttered mess that I had ever seen. And it would be improved.
I (WE) would improve it.

The process took HOURS, just for this alone. It was crazy, but necessary, as the impeller was directly tied to some of the core systems of how the complexity/storage space issues worked. And even then there was nothing that I could do for still needing to put in the time to actually get the results.

What I(WE) DID do, however, was to vastly improve the results.

Impeller growth rate was nearly tripled, and then tripled again as the optimizations started to kick in. core complexity, now that I really understood the mechanics behind it, was set to constantly improve at a far greater rate than present, without the occasional backslides from integrating "lesser" technology. Storage space size was improved over 400% thanks to the optimizations. And best of all, integration times for all but the most hardcore of technologies had been slashed all the way down to a mere 25% of what they once were...and unlike a "normal" core, these too could be improved upon with time.

All from optimizing the code. And we (and yes, it is we now, partner. I did notice) weren't even halfway done. This was going to be a really good day, I could tell.

Anyway, MORE CODING!!! This shit is WAY too much fun!

---

The end result would have had people looking at me crazy if they knew just what the hell I'd unleashed upon this world. (that it required a very rare and almost unprecedented core restart was beside the point)

The final project came out to an almost across the board increase capability of over 400%, all said and done. I'd even added in, at core's suggestion, a series of robust and cross-linked error checking and correcting routines, that would be optimized and upgraded just like the rest of the core, just to make sure that nothing funny went down.

Though I could have sworn I heard something screaming in rage in the distance as I did so. Curious.

An unexpected benefit of one of my abilities had kicked in, this one known as Robust Engineering, which made the already very durable and lasting valkyrie core even more so...and created a knock-on effect that transferred to everything that the core influenced as well, somehow. It was completely crazy, but I was rolling with it.

Second unexpected benefit of my weird perks is that the excellent craftsman skill kicked in while I was working and helped optimize the code even further than we had planned for, which was a big part of the sheer boost that was delivered even on top of the core optimizations.

Which had another five hours or so to complete, leaving me to my own devices for the moment.

And all this was just from CODING. I hadn't even touched the actual hardware yet.

I had a good feeling that the technology of the Valkyrie Core had a very high ceiling for improvement. I was probably only looking at the surface of what could be done.

The core tech of the frames, namely their spatial bending tricks and all of the impeller BS that came with it...I might be able to recreate the simulators using this alone. This would be absolutely HUGE if I could, as the damned sims were all but creating pocket dimensions for training purposes, a feat that was perfect for my needs.

And so of course a review of the tech involved with the sims proper (what little I had available to me, anyway) reminded me of not only the insane power draw requirement, but that the sim setup used by the UN was a Higgs-based setup...which I had no knowledge of at all. A minor setback, but still one that rankled a bit.

A mental nudge drew me out of my thoughts, alerting me to another set of abilities having finished integrating into my weird (not)soul-space. Two of them, from the looks of it.

I looked closely at the first, it was a weird mishmash of things, what seemed at first intended to be two separate abilities merged into one due to the overlap involved (especially as they were with the same tech). The tech in question was a piece of what my new knowledge referred to as "industrialized magic": the wonder of the 20th century, the Computation Orb (or Operations Orb, as some called it).

And as much as I was fascinated with the possibilities of the orb in being a legit form of magitechnology, there were some very, VERY serious flaws with the tech, first and foremost among them that it was literally from the 1920's. All of the biggest advancements either predated or were concurrent with World War One. or at least this weird version thereof. (I was tempted to call it Strangereal, but that name is already taken.) Second was related to the first: it was a pure analog technology, based off of clockwork motions of all things. Easily disrupted on a real battlefield, although it had the advantage of being resistant to nearly all forms of Electromagnetic Radiation as a result, meaning no being fried by EMP or the like just because. Related to this is that the gears involved were meant to be tooled by hand, and thus lacked a lot of the miniaturization possible with even what I'd considered modern tech, let alone what passed for contemporary on Necromunda. And the Valkyrie Frame I had came equipped with two fabs that could work on a Nano scale…

Yeah, I was snapping this thing over my knee just for the hell of it. It was a damned good starting point, and would have been downright revolutionary in its own time, but the tech itself is outdated and needed improvements everywhere.

Starting off, the gearing could be so, so much improved it wasn't even funny, although even I had to admit that there was a hard limit to human hands; if I wanted to stick with the analog system I would need to get downright silly with both materials and manufacturing techniques.

Mind you, this was SOLELY if I wanted to have an analog version. Considering that this is literally a giant calculator, I could go digital easily enough as well...that is, assuming that it would work on that level.

Y'know what? I have my new project. I'm making a digital computation orb, as well as an analog version comparable to the best work of the 21st century.

Of course, first I was gonna need to make some tools....

---

2:36:47

2:36:46

2:36:45

Dammit.

I literally went through the workshop and it's bins for all of the things needed to make small scale tools appropriate for a watchmaker, spent the time fashioning the (relatively) crude implements I would use, planned out the possibilities for what I wanted to do, and had set up some equally basic molds and such for creating the frames of the clockwork.

I'd even managed to get a few examples of the crystalline portions of the assembly worked up, all just to test out which might actually affect any of the processes in the orb.

I literally had all but built a basic computation orb and it still didn't eat up the time for my Core to finish its update.

Ah well then. Time to start the assembly process, then.

Putting it all together should have been a difficult task, fraught with errors as I fumbled and potentially damaged the various gears needed to have a basic computation orb function.

I did not, as I was, in my boredom, using the assembly as a test bed of sorts for a form of Arts-based fine telekinesis. (go multitasking.) While I could lie and say that it was easy, it really wasn't, as the basis for the Art was more or less brand new to me, and needed some fine-tuning as I went along. The plus side, though, was that the mistakes that I did make were far reduced in severity due to not having any of the bigger tools involved in the process and able to mess things up.

All in all, a productive use of time, resulting in a top-quality computation orb. (I loved excellent craftsman sometimes.)

I glanced at the countdown timer next to my Core.

1:02;21

Dammit.

Alright then, kill more time by setting up some spell design work?

The basic computation orb that I had designed and built was a relatively simple affair. Utilizing a means of mechanical calculation based around a single "core" it was capable of casting one spell at any given time, plus whatever auxiliary spells were built into the orb itself. Under normal circumstances in the world of its creation, these would be used for the flight spell or support gear for the same, along with the accompanying field equations needed for protection during flight. Similarly, the available spells for the user were largely geared towards combat utility more than any general purpose bent, and it showed plainly in the design.

My build, however, was different in that it was set up for general purpose use and stability first and foremost, and included supporting equations to allow for the flexibility needed from a "civilian"-use piece of equipment. It could, of course, still be used for combat applications, but as I could now clearly see after building, the technology as it was didn't allow for much in the way of shifting specializations on the fly. A purpose-built combat orb would be superior in all regards in its chosen field, regardless of any improvement that I could leverage upon the orb construction itself...at least, as I'd built it.

I had intentionally gone for a single-core design just to test the theory work and accompanying math needed; now I could push it further and see if it was possible to build an orb with more processing power.

I blatantly scoffed at even the idea that my orb wouldn't work properly. I had leveraged most of my skills in it's creation, after all. What might be faulty was the basic spell equations needed to operate it, and even that would be more or less trial and error as I worked out the new formulas. Having already known the full underlying process behind why the orbs worked was a big bonus in this regard. (That actually building an orb proper fully disabused me of the field durability issues I'd originally expected to see from the orb was a bit of humble pie on my part, but I took it in stride. Progress waited for no one, after all.)

Anyway, back to improvements.

I started on the design work for working in another computing core, complete with a few improvements in where I had noted some...slack. The second build was shockingly faster even than the first, somehow, and I now held in my hands this world's first dual-core computation orb, and one that was set for general purposes, at that. I gave the internal a quick once over before getting set for a brief test of the improvements I had made.

Unsurprisingly, they worked as intended.

Fully emboldened by the success, I set to designing and building up both a three and four-core model as well, just to see if it was possible. Used up most of the prepared materials that the workshop had available, but I could get some more later on, or just wait long enough for it to replenish itself. (it was convenient like that).

The three-core had some minor issues that were quickly cleared up with a small tweak to the build. The four-core, however, tried to tear itself apart for some reason. Curious, I looked it over and saw the problem involved in the gearing and setup processes, then just did a (relatively) quick mod and the problems went away just like that.

I got a strange feeling I had just completely spat on someone's life work by doing so, though.

Shrugging, I then considered what I had learned...which honestly was not much, as I had been sticking to the basic principles of operation for the cores and nothing too groundbreaking from a more modern (or advanced) perspective. The real tests were going to be from the expansion of the technology into the digital age, and a third option that had appeared to me during my tinkering: the possibility of using pure mana as a sort of "virtual core" setup allowing for nearly infinite processing power if used right.

First off, though, I had an idea that needed checking.

Computation orbs had one major flaw aside from the low-tech nature of the build: Power. Rather, the fact that the vast majority of mages would never actually be able to use the damned things to anywhere near full capacity simply due to lack of natural mana output.

My solution to this was very simple: the capacitor.

Basically, I would find a way to create a form of battery for the excess mana produced when not in operation, or when not under extreme load, and then channel it into a form that could be used later by the operator of the orb, regardless of their actual personal output, as long as it was not zero. Combined with some of the efficiency tweaks and mods I was making to the designs I'd made, this should allow all but the absolute weakest of mages to have a usable ability with the orbs.

I began the planning process for how to adapt the damned orbs for a battery that wasn't complete garbage (or far, far too large for proper operation) and paused when a feeling of warmth spread over me.

I looked over at the timer for my Core and was startled out of my working trance at the display.

0:00.00

It was finished.

Feeling absolutely giddy at the news, I all but dropped my current work to rush over to my core and resync.

The difference was the equivalent of high noon and pitch black,

Everything seemed so much smoother, so much faster, so much MORE. I played around a bit with the various settings I now had access to, trying to find an ideal setup for my use...and really couldn't decide one way or another. Giving it up as a wash for now, I left it to my core, which really needed a name now, to figure out as we worked together.

The biggest change other than the vastly improved sensory awareness granted was that the impeller was improved a great deal in strength and thickness. My control was still shitty, as was true for all newbie valkyries, but a quick check showed it to be more responsive than examples have shown most low-sync hours valks would have. Noting major by any stretch, but it would likely help in practicing later on.

The second biggest change was that I now had the super-neat "constant improvement" code built into my core, and it had already started on what was available to it at the time, doing some improvements to both the fabricators and the medical suite installed on my frame, as well as some general purpose tweaks to the frame itself. If the code that we had created worked out, then the speed and overall efficiency of the process should improve as time went on and our sync (and tech base) improved. (A feeling from within suggested that the code would work just fine.)

Now that I had access to my best tools though, I could push the computation orb project even further than before...and possibly even go beyond!!!

ONWARD!! FOR SCIENCE!!!

---

I hate my life.

It had been three whole weeks, and I have been banging my head against the wall that was the computation orb to no avail.

Oh sure, I could push the level of the orbs up to some absolutely ridiculous stages; after all, I had managed to make a legit 16-core orb. The problem came from the fact that the sheer power draw for anything beyond eight cores became nearly unsustainable for anything but the highest level mages. I had been looking into ways to reduce the strain on the user, but nothing seemed to want to stick. It was frustrating on a level that I had reserved for the damned scrub gangs that still tried to make a nuisance of themselves whenever I chose to step outside for longer than ten minutes.

The capacitor project was going no better. Despite getting a decent one set up and operating, it had the relatively minor problem of being the size of a goddamn super duty pickup truck...for maybe five minutes of power output at levels worth the effort.

The issues with making a digital version of the orb were both lesser and more complex all at once. Making the circuits seemed easy as hell, until I ran into the issue that apparently the mana calculations needed a completely different design type and architecture tha anything even dreamed of by most in order to work right, and then add in the fact that the process nodes themselves were notoriously finicky and unstable for all that they seemed very easy to make, and the frustration factors piled up even more.

And I didn't want to just throw it at Thoth (the new name of my Valkyrie Core, and a reference to the Egyptian deity of the same name, who symbolized wisdom and Science, among other things) in order for him to fix it up. I wanted to actually understand this technology and why it worked from the ground floor and not just cheatcode it. Besides, this was literally MY OWN GODDAMNED TECH. I SHOULD be able to understand it, right?

But NOOO. The damned answers to the questions kept themselves away from me in any and all ways possible. I swear that this shit was going to be nearly impossible to do…

I stopped for a moment to consider other things for a bit. The issues I was having had plagued the early 21st century as well, with availability of power and overall power draw being the main advancement of computing during that era. Every major advancement seemed to be about efficiency in some way or fashion instead of raw power. Considering the advent and proliferation of the smartphone, this was no real surprise.

The issue is that none of the science principles that worked for those revolutions seemed to be taking hold here. I knew that a digital, or at least circuit-based version of the computation orb was possible, I just couldn't crack it. Likewise, I had no way of actually breaking the limiters keeping the capacitor project from advancing past the stage of near complete uselessness.

I'm supposed to be a super genius dammit! How can I not figure this shit out?

I took a shuddering breath. Nope, not thinking about it.

Instead, I would do some more practice with originium and the things it allowed for.

After the last incident involving me getting shot at, and the subsequent lay-low order, I had cleared out a small section of the workshop proper to use as a sort of training area for my experiments with Arts and originium in general, though I had yet to really work with the material properly just yet. It was something I was saving for the future, after I cracked the computation orb.

See how far that got me...

For the most part, my Arts usage had advanced in steady, predictable ways. I had given more thought on usage to some of the basic examples given by my Class training, and made some (admittedly small) attempts at branching out from there.

For example, let's take the Vanguard Class. It specialized in movement, both in terms of sheer mobility and of maneuverability. What this meant is that the skills adjacent to the class were all about getting in fast, kicking ass, and getting out again just as fast.

In a way, it was very similar to the general specialization for Alliance biotic operatives than anything else, as they had the same modus operandi. The main issues I was having in training the related Arts for the class was space, as nearly all of them involved movement of some kind, and usually enabled movement in unusual ways, such as the eponymous spider climb ability (which was actually hard as all hell to keep going, let me tell you).

The Sniper Class was exactly as I thought it would be based on my previous training, focusing on being able to both identify and then hit the target specified at extreme ranges. There seemed to be some extra stuff in there beyond a skill wall of sorts, but I could never seem to get past it with the limits I'd set for myself. Something else to work on for the future.

The Caster class was paradoxically the easiest to train in, as it focused on Arts to the excursion of almost everything else; a blessing and a cure all in one on the battlefield. I doubted anything but the strongest casters would be able to stand against even a newbie sanctioned psyker of the imperium, let alone the stuff the Eldar were capable of, so I focused instead on the utility portions of the Arts, figuring I could get to the rest later. The telekinesis trick I'd been using to help construct the computation orbs had been a godsend in training me on fine control with my powers, and I had managed to work in some similar uses as well, mostly based off of my memories of Golden Sun. Including all of the general purpose TK-adjacent utility psynergies, I also could adjust temperatures in objects by a small to moderate amount with a bit of focus. Along with a minor ability to affect the electromagnetic spectrum over a shockingly broad range that was growing faster than anything else, really. I practiced all of it whenever I had the chance, usually when I needed a break from banging my head into the wall over the orb tech.

Then there was the Medic Class. The Arts here seemed to defy everything I thought I knew about arts proper in the way that they operated, and came attached to quite a few specialty abilities depending on the user. As I was still new, I had no real specialties to speak of, but I did have a very useful, if basic, healing art that acted as a cellular regenerator. I suspected that this was one of the primary treatment methods for those infected with oripathy on that world. It was definitely something that I would be doing closer research on in the future.

By comparison, the remaining classes were almost carelessly simple in their functions. The Guard, despite its name, was a frontline melee combatant first and foremost, tasked with standing toe to toe with the enemy and taking them down by any available means. The benefit it granted me was a not insignificant skill in melee combat, particularly with blades of varying types, though I favored the sword, spear, and a form of partisan that was a very close mix between the two.

Specialists, on the other hand, were something of a grab bag: the title itself was meant as a catchall for anyone who had skills that didn't fall under the standard operator training classifications. In theory, this meant that anyone who had a unique and/or useful skill could be classed as one. In practice however it tended to work similarly to the more applied MOS of the various militaries of history: namely demolitions, assassinations, and other specific point work. That my personal rating was as an engineer was not a surprise in the slightest.

My practice with arts today would be focusing on the abilities of the Guard, to whom the basic skills I knew were of some minor body strengthening techniques. Supposedly one could push really, really far and do some downright anime shit at higher levels, but I wasn't there. Not yet.

My training continuing apace, I still had reserve brainpower to consider other issues while I attempted to distract myself from the orb problem. The higher ups of Van Saar, having noted that something was going wrong in their area of expertise, started looking into who and what the hell was trying to kill me off so urgently...and was finding jack and shit, which concerned them greatly. That I was currently able to handle myself to a degree was noted and ignored--this was an assault upon the house itself to be gunning after one of its assets. To that end, they had apparently pulled House Delaque into some form of contract to look into exactly what the hell was going on. Delaque had yet to send a report back in, which according to Harry was highly unusual for them, even if the work was being contracted out to one of the lesser gangs of the house. Still, something that could move around like that more or less undetected to a house that was known for specializing in the same was a scary prospect.

For most.

For me it was currently an annoyance, as my house minders, in the form of the Lieutenants three (and that's what they were, fancy title or not), were intentionally keeping me from wandering around too much until they had solid info. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, considering I was hip-deep in my own tech development at the moment, but it was the times like this when I needed a real break that it grated.

Even when I was working out the alternate core configurations to allow for the eventual 16-core setup, which required something similar to the core cluster model of 21's t century multicore computing chips. the sheer strain on my psyche wasn't that bad, and I had been considering doing something absolutely silly at the time and just making a three dimen--

No.

No. way.

There is no way in hell it is that easy.

Stopping myself in mid-motion of a swing with the training weapon I had thrown together out of some junk, I turned back to the computation orbs set on the workshop table . If this theory was right…

It was a quick build, all things considered. I'd used the same materials leftover from my many other attempts. The same processes in forging and shaping the circuits to be. Hell, even kept them as oversized as normal in order to see what was happening and make changes.

The only difference was that instead of making it like a standard circuit board, I made the gates, pipes and arrays, as basic as they were, in the full three dimensional spectrum.

The resulting piece of circuitry was clunky, and actually a bit larger than it needed to be., at about the size of a pair of fists, cubed. I took a look at it, and fired it up.

And of course it didn't work.

The difference, however, was not in that it didn't work, but HOW.

It was a completely new failure mode. One that actually baffled me for a bit as I examined it and tried to draw some conclusions from the mess. And nothing seemed to make sense. The damned thing seemed to defy logic. How the hell does a system fail Left?

It was even more frustrating than it should have been, but I still felt that I was on to something here. So I made another one

And another, and another, and another.

All of them failed, but not in exactly the same way. Some failed left, others failed up (don't ask, I don't get it either) and one particular version seemed to just...absorb itself and fail that way.

But each failure point gave me more data. And I learned what I was doing wrong.

It wasn't about the shape. Sure, making a 3D circuit helped a bit, but it didn't NEED to be that way, and in fact would work better in a 2d config until I had a basic operations process worked out. What was important here was that I now had an idea of how the mana flowed and operated in the circuits proper.

Which meant that I could now create a proper circuit for it to work in.

The design process, oddly enough, only took an hour, even without me leaning too hard on my abilities. The build took less time, as I was now used to putting the experiments together. No 3d circuits for now, at least not as we would normally think of them. Instead, it was similar but vastly different to a "standard" integrated circuit, with several of its most defining features (including the transistor) either missing or so completely redesigned as to be unrecognizable. But it was finished.

And the test spell was fed in, which did nothing more than create a small but of light.

I waited with baited breath as the test started...and then whooped with joy as the tiny glow appeared above the circuit itself.

Oh HELL yeah. I had created the very first digital operations orb.

---

You would have thought that I would have immediately ran through the whole super-iteration process with this new discovery, but I didn't. I really had no need to do so right now, for one, and for two, the capacitor problem was now more important than ever, as I had noticed even in the initial test of the digital orb that it was going to be a power-hungry beast. Which meant that I needed a way to supply that power in a reasonable fashion.

Well, part of it was pride, I'll admit. The postmortem on the experiments with the digital orb made it clear that the fix was staring me in the face the whole time and I'd ignored it because I knew better. After having been fed my considerable helping of humble pie on the subject, I was hesitant to push too hard with the capacitor project without actually looking at what I was doing, both right and wrong.

So for now, I let it sit. Besides, I was expecting a visit from Harry soon, and hopefully with an update on the whole assassins thing. Maybe even a decent timetable on when Van Saar could get together a training platoon for me to start working into shape.

It was around this time that I began hearing an odd and kind of ethereal tune. I know I had heard it before, but I had trouble placing it. It was kind of uplifting, in that sense of wonder way, that used to be reserved for things related to outer space. What sounded similar to..sea life? Echoed in the background in a pleasing way. And yet that tune ,it seemed so familiar...almost like a song without words, one for an eternal story. An impulse led me to seek out the source of the music, only to find it playing from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at all.

Wait a minute...It reminded me a lot of the title theme of--

A vision appeared to me. In it, I saw the endless sea of stars, the countless planets, moons, comets, even nebulae stretched across it's vista. Each seemed only to add to the gathered splendor, acting in a way that created an amazing backdrop of colors.

Flash focus,, to a world beset by a crisis beyond anything they had seen before. The planet itself was dying, and very soon it would no longer be able to support life in any form. The people of the world sought a solution, any solution, that would save them.

Flash away again, to another, different world, where beings wielded what seemed to be the very stars themselves in all things, growing powerful beyond measure with the mastery of this strange power. A castoff remnant of the knowledge is tossed away like trash into the void, unneeded and unmissed by these great beings

Flash again, to a distant future. The great ones had fallen, somehow destroyed by their own hubris, and their works left to be cast adrift. The only salvation: a race of purpose-designed inheritors of their legacy, wielding only a fraction of the power that had been available to those who had eventually created them.

I got the distinct feeling that this was just meant as a reference point, really

Flash again, back to the cast off remnant, now an asteroid containing the lost fragment of a whole so much greater. This fragment fell to the doomed planet that I had seen first.

And with it, hope.

Within, lay the means to access that great and terrifying power, even if it was only barely understood at the moment. It was used to advance the understanding of the doomed world to unseen heights, allowing them to build a series of arkships to escape their world, and begin the search for a new home.

A final, all-consuming flash blinded me, leaving me in a white void once it finally cleared away. Before me was...something, a thing, a creature, possibly even a consciousness? of unimaginable power.

And it began showing me things. The works of those who had wielded the light, and the same works of those who had despised it, who sought to corrupt it into their own image.

It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measures (and felt oddly familiar as well), and just as relentless in the barrage of information, both of what was and of what could be.

And within it all, even as I was being overwhelmed by the sheer deluge of knowledge, to the point that I could barely process any of it at all, let alone hang on to it, was a simple question.

What path did I choose?

I had to force myself to focus, to place context to the scenes playing out before me, and even then I failed, swamped with the metaphorical (and likely metaphysical) weight crashing down on me. The strange light (or was it a darkness? It was getting hard to tell) watched with a passivity that would have been annoying if I had even a second to process it.

And the question repeated. What path do you choose?

I barely managed to focus myself, to cut myself off from the flood tide of data swarming me, to get a clever look at what I was dealing with...and what I saw horrified me.

The darkness, it sought out a means to control me, to use me for its own ends...and it had nearly succeeded, pushing me towards making a hasty choice that would have had devastating consequences had I accepted. It was a path of corruption, of being twisted into something that I was not, and being used to erase all that I held dear, even simply favored, into an all consuming black void of nothingness.

Something that I would not allow to happen, ever.

Finally having found myself, I rejected the false flow of damaging data, recognizing the attack for what it was at long last, and turned away from the source of the darkness, what I had once perceived as a blinding light.

Instead, I looked away, finding the final piece of the cast-away fragment of the bearers of this light, shining even still. They sang out to me, a promise of a brighter tomorrow, as long as one was willing to fight for it. A sentiment I wholeheartedly agreed with.

And thus, it was with a determined step that I turned away from the howling darkness that even then threatened to consume me utterly...and walked towards the light--

The trance ended just as suddenly as it began, and left me with the feeling that I had dodged a very large bullet, one that had specifically been aimed at me, no less...and had been rewarded handsomely for doing so, as well.

I consulted my memories...and nearly gasped in shock at what I had found.

It was a power unlike anything I had ever seen before in my life, the potential to wield the very light itself in ways that seemed almost magical in nature, to push for levels of technology that were likely unknown even during the dark age of technology.

It resonated with me on a level that I couldn't quite explain, as if it just somehow FIT.

It was also very much not something that was normally a part of the forge of stars, having added itself to my repertoire of its own accord. For what reason I did not know, and really did not care.

Because I recognized it for what it was now.

I knew it as the power of Photons.

The power best known, and used, in the world..no, universe, of the game series Phantasy Star.

And I was going to put this knowledge to GREAT use.

---

A knock at the front door of my actual lodging broke me out of my musings on my new prowess. Quickly moving to exit and close the workshop, I answered the door, thinking it to be Harry with that status update.

Instead, it was one of the Adjutants to that Augmek that I had met. The thin guy with the beard, Janus Farhish,. We had built up a small but firm rapport with each other after that first meeting, with him being suitably impressed with my skills and the sheer balls I had to display them in the manner I did...nevermind that I hate being an asshole as a rule...a trait that he surprisingly shared with me. It didn't take long for us to click after that, although his responsibilities kept him busy for a lot of my current tenure. And even then I usually had to come to him to get news.

Apparently something had changed.

"Hullo there, Farhish."I greeted him, even as I waved him inside. I used his family name as a form of respect, even though he insisted I could call him Janus. "Whatcha need so badly that you showed up in person?"

The look on his face turned unusually grim after my question. "I'm here because we have a lead of sorts on what might be happening."

I would have grinned at the statement, but something about his expression dulled the impulse. "And you had to come tell me in person? Usually you guys go through Harrisyn for stuff like this."

"That is part of the issue, I'm afraid" he replied. "Agent Cain was in the process of collecting the information that had been received and processing it when an incident occurred. He has yet to check in as per standard protocols.

"We have reason to believe that Harrisyn Cain has been either kidnapped or killed in order to keep him silent."

---

Spoiler: Author Notes

Two notes here: first is that there was a minor mixup in the forge doc, and two of the perks, normally an 800cp cluster, have been merged into one. Reason being? They are technically the same perk, or at least were intended as such, as the first (Magical Science) was part of an early beta version of the Youjo Senki Jump, and was replaced in the final with the second (Computation Creation). As they were meant to serve similar roles in the jump (and I didn't want to subject people to hunting down the beta jump) I merged the two.

Second is the addition of a perk that is not normally in the forge proper, and was likely an oversight on the part of the creators of both v2 and the current v3 which was refined from it. It is an addition of my own which I felt would be interesting. Note that the actual perk covers multiple, and I mean MULTIPLE domains, though I have provisionally assigned it to the magitech domain. (honestly, I wasn't expecting it to pop up this early, at ALL.)

Spoiler: Perks for this chapter

-Computation Creation | Magical Science (Youjo Senki - Saga of Tanya the Evil)
Computation Creation (400CP)
The operation orb - or computation orb, if you prefer - is a masterwork of science and mathematics. A unique crystalline and clockwork structure allows for mathematical code to be stored - called spells - and channels energy from the user in order to empower them. You now understand not just how they work, but why - and in doing so, can apply the principles to other aims. Magic is currently used solely by the air corps for long range bombardment. Let's fix
that, shall we?

Magical Science (merged with the above, no cost)
You are at the forefront of mage technology, and can easily improve on what is currently being used, with some effort you can also build far more powerful mage tech. Whatever faction you belong to is sure to value you greatly.


Walk Towards the Light (Phantasy Star Online) (600 CP)
You have the knowledge necessary to work with Photons. You can create photon-based weaponry, defensive equipment, and even powerful FTL engines. Given enough time and resources, you could build your own Pioneer ships. In addition, you have the knowledge necessary to create most any of the items found in Phantasy Star Online. D-Cells are the exception to this, as even you don't understand how they work.

Click to shrink...

im getting really confused, great setup, but he esentially went from one room to another + some fights and has been in there for 4 weeks, for no reasons, essentially got op tier tech for free, completely ignoring the whole sick setup for adeptus mechanus with binary and blessing, just to be stuck in necromunda and already surpassed. like Huh whats the point of the 40 k tag at all,

 

[Cheetored20]

im getting really confused, great setup, but he esentially went from one room to another + some fights and has been in there for 4 weeks, for no reasons, essentially got op tier tech for free, completely ignoring the whole sick setup for adeptus mechanus with binary and blessing, just to be stuck in necromunda and already surpassed. like Huh whats the point of the 40 k tag at all,

Click to shrink...

hes in a warpstorm right now. he is still in 40k, its just going to take time for the factions to reistablish connection.... in additon to others getting dragged in.

 

[Potatownz]

I'm on chapter 9 and isn't this dude supposed to have the brain power of 35000 geniuses or something? Shouldn't it be really hard to attack his mind just based on that alone? Also why is he so stupid? He has at least 3 different perks giving him control over light and he barely even thought of using it. He spends more time blowing his load over whatever new perks he gets than he does training what he already has.

 

[Frostynips]

MMMMMMMMMM Delicious necro

 

[Slider Zero]

Yeah, I am going to retroactively say whatever on the necro. I get it, it's been a while, I apologize. Life is happening and being a bitch.

As for the actual reply...apologies for taking so long to respond.

I'm on chapter 9 and isn't this dude supposed to have the brain power of 35000 geniuses or something? Shouldn't it be really hard to attack his mind just based on that alone? Also why is he so stupid? He has at least 3 different perks giving him control over light and he barely even thought of using it. He spends more time blowing his load over whatever new perks he gets than he does training what he already has.

Click to shrink...

So, Short answer in both Doylist and Watsonian
D: Most of this was either planned or adapted around for various reasons.
W: Satori is a giant nerd and prone to moments of being scatterbrained.

Long answer, Watsonian, Satori is a giant nerd prone to gushing over tech. He is, at least at that point, keenly aware of being in enemy territory and not able to realistically break out everything he wants to without breaking the trust of several people whose trust needs to be kept. That being said, the Light magic is from a system that he is still only dabbling in at best and is winging it on, and the other: light magic is a thing that needs to be trained up for various reasons and is unusable except as a booster and foil for certain attack vectors.

As for the Choas immunity thing...The Eldar have advanced minds, too. As did the Men of Iron. Look at what happened to them.
I also feel the need to point out, again, that Intelligence is not Wisdom and treating them as the same is a failing. Satori is just as vulnerable as anyone else to Chaos trying to corrupt them, even with the enhanced brainpower.

As for the supposed stupidity, did you forget that he is in the Imperium of Man, where lives are cheap and most people are looking for any excuse to fry a MF for heresy? The reasons are there if you look.

That being said, Satori is Satori, and his failings with regard to geeking out over new tech can and have caused issues, like accidentally ignoring something important because other options were less conspicuous.

It's like writing a character is a challenge or something.

For the long-form Doylist thing? I actually had a reason for dodging around some of those that did not have anything to do with it slipping my mind, and those come into play later on. Not to spoil too much, but the man has some work to put in to actually get gud, even with his tech edge.

Anyway, this has been my reply corner. Thank you for visiting, and I will have a chapter for you all as soon as feasible.

 

[Slider Zero]

That which the world had never seen before, the writings of a dreamer, the one named Slider.

It has been over a year since the iwork was last seen. Now, aided by those who seek the return of the legend, the mighty Author has gathered his will again, and so the next chapter shall take place…

(fake lore blip aside, it's been far, FAR too long since I updated this, for a number of reasons. In either case, enjoy these words at your leisure and expect more of them to come in a much shorter timeframe than the last.)

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

"STRIKE ONE, MOVE OUT!!"

The newly-arrived troopers wasted little time in spreading out, assuming a defensive position around their transport as the apparent leader assessed the situation.

Namely, the mass of dead aliens, the obvious mother and child combo responsible for said massacre, and the slightly less obvious pair of nerds in power armor doing their part as well.

Oh, and the second wave of the alien swarm (this time Mutons, along with the remaining Chryssalids), but that should have been obvious.

Virgil had to admit that they knew what they were doing, as the leader of the team barked a command and the entire defensive line shifted to face the incoming threat, weapons ready and waiting.

The first shots were almost anticlimactic, really. One of the soldiers apparently had decided to take a potshot against the aliens, probably as a test to see how much firepower would be needed to actually deal with the opposition.

Said shot, from a line-of-sight laser weapon no less (and one that reminded him eerily of one of the many, many takes on a Warhammer 40k lasgun), found its target on the head of a Muton…and removed it with almost contemptuous ease.

The entire gaggle of aliens stopped almost in unison, and turned towards the soldiers as one, the Mutons with looks of almost pure horror not only visible but recognizable on their faces.

The savage grin on the commander of "Strike One" was absolutely vicious, and Virgil found himself matching it almost immediately.

"OPEN FIRE!!!"

Nobody needed to be told twice.

The resulting hail of lasers utterly annihilated their targets, leaving little more than burning chunks of meat in their wake. The few Chryssalids that managed to scurry to some kind of cover were brutally cut down by the Raccoon pair with just as much swiftness. The end result was a street swept clean of alien activity, with only the rapidly cooling corpses left as a testament to what had happened there.

It was utterly glorious to behold, and Virgil could only nod in savage satisfaction at the result.

The commander quickly took advantage. "Alright, listen up! Lancer, take Briggs, Rush and Scrapper and get us a forward path. Ryker and Zillah, you're on recon; find anyone still fighting and get them back here for exfil until we can get a better safe zone. Falcon and Spanker, you're on overwatch: if it moves and isn't human, I want it dead. Ariel, Jouster, and Rock, you're on LZ patrol. Make sure the place stays secure until we get a better look. The rest of you are with me.

He grinned even as his people moved to perform their tasks. "We got our work cut out for us, and the Eggheads have no clue about the new stuff on the ground. Stay sharp and watch your backs, and make sure you report anything unusual so they can figure out what the hell is going on. With any luck, we're done and back in time for chow. Make it happen, people!!"

He then turned his attention towards him, nodding in respect. "Thanks for the assist. Virgil Hawkins, I assume? Parahuman alias Uber?"

Virgil only barely didn't freeze in his tracks at being outed like that. Instead, he merely gave a stiff nod that was only partially muffled by the armor he was wearing.

"Good. We were hoping to catch you two before the place got overran. We're gonna need your help to clear out the place, as our organization has their hands tied putting out fires everywhere else and you have the most firepower available until we can get to our objective–"

The mini-brief was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a Chryssalid jumping out of cover and moving at frankly ridiculous speeds towards them, malice clear in its movements.

Said movements were interrupted even faster by a sudden blur and the sound of actual, no-shit audible sharpness as the same Chryssalid all but fell apart in motion, revealing the Raccoon kid on the other side looking down at it curiously.

One of the remaining troopers nearby almost immediately emoted over it. "Oh god, so cute! Boss, we're keeping the kid, alright?" The fact that she had also moved to encircle the poor kid in a massive hug that probably would have included a taste of marshmallow hell if not for the body armor was another matter.

Which was made worse by the kid himself. "Sorry, nice lady, but mama says I have to stay near her for now, but maybe later?"

This only encouraged the trooper to squeeze harder and make even more obvious 'I'm gonna keep him' motions, even as his mother snickered in the background along with the other troopers. For his part, the poor commander simply took his L with stoic pride, knowing there was no way to actually win that.

Either way, things were definitely looking up. He'd have to ask about the rest of how the hell they knew who they were later, though…

-=[/\]=-​

In a rare turn of events, Miolala Granliss Green was actually angry.

And nearly all of it had to do with the fact that the fucking Ayys who were interrupting her precious "sexy dragon wife" time with her Satori were pointedly refusing to just roll over and fucking die like a good Xeno.

It was enough to drive a woman mad!

The fuckers simply would. Not. QUIT. They kept coming and coming and coming, again and again, to the point that the automated defenses she'd set up outside the hospital now had entire berms of bodies stacked in front of them, and were actively burning through the excess to get kills on the ones trying to hide.

But that wasn't all! The fuckers could apparently teleport, too, and were using that to try and insert strike teams inside the Hospital to terrorize the survivors and potentially drive them out into the open.

Something which worked only once, as Mio just so happened to be in the area and was in dire need of a stress ball, which the Xenos were oh so gracious to provide.

Too bad about the walls, though. They're never going to get those stains out…

Of course, said attack had prompted her to stretch her already overtaxed resource reserves even more, and set up internal defenses to deal with future incursions, along with pushing forward the "arm the people" plan even faster. The second was paying massive dividends at the moment, as apparently extremely overtuned Las was highly effective against the walking corpses, while the locals were very much of the opinion that taking the fight back to the enemy was a positive thing that should be done as early and as often as possible.

Unfortunately, even the automated lasgun constructor stations she'd set up to convert various forms of scrap metals into weapons were running low on materials, primarily because of the sheer weight of numbers being thrown at them. If not for that, she would have already gone out herself and started clearing out the rubbish, but the constant attacks were keeping her pinned in order to handle any surprises that came along.

Surprises like the fucking Dreadknight wannabes that were currently trying her long since exhausted patience.

The mechs were a thing that her Satori had run into earlier, something about a secondary strike force dropping reinforcements into the field through unusual methods. The mechs themselves were, while impressive, nothing too major for her to worry about, and only required her attention because they were being annoying and trying to end-run around the defenses to get inside.

Which earned them several nice bolts of highly focused directed energy in strategic locations from her as a reward.

Annoyingly, despite that, they just kept coming anyway, and they showed no signs of actually letting up anytime soon, even with their air cover quickly beating feet to avoid getting shot out of the sky by her Volcano Lances. And they had enough in the way of shielding and armor that the "normal" lasguns that were being issued to the people were not going to be enough to stop them–which, while easily solved, had the secondary issue attached that she didn't have the needed materials for the bigger guns and she couldn't go scrounging because they tried to push every time and then–

Yeah, it was frustrating in the extreme, even if she was still winning the war.

'Satori, you are going to be spending a lot of time inside me after this is done. Remember that.'

Her only response was an exasperated sigh and loving caress in her mind, which she took a brief moment to savor.

An electric purple light sprang to life next to her, one of the precursors of the teleport effect that the xenos used.

Her brow twitched in irritation. Another one…

-=[/\]=-​

"HEY!!! OVER HERE!!"

The group of Mutons turned towards Marcy with clear killing intent in their motions.

They never actually saw the blades slicing them in half as she moved, the entire motion swift and seamless as she blatantly executed her opposition.

Yeah, Marcy was a natural when it came to Aura, and it showed. The woman adapted to the powerup with an ease and grace that was shocking to behold, and quickly adjusted to push herself to heights unseen in order to "keep up" with me.

The result, when combined with her usual enthusiasm, was a nightmare machine for the poor xenos bastards who stood in her way.

And her emotions…dear god, I had never felt anyone feel that alive before. It was like a blinder had been taken off, and the previous glow she held was but a mere fraction of her true splendid shine. Simply being near her was almost overwhelming to my senses as she zipped around and generally flexed her newly awakened prowess.

Key word being almost. It is a lot easier to not blind someone with exuberance and general "you-ness" when that person wants you there, after all, and Marcy most definitely wanted me around. This lent her aura a form of…acceptance is the closest word for it, honestly, that let me not have to actively dim my own senses or shut her out to still be able to perceive the world.

It was also, much to my amusement, having an effect on the world around us.

See, ever since we'd started really moving, I had been noticing more people armed up and taking the fight to the enemy. This being Texas, the level of available firepower was appropriately high.

Meaning that the guys with the AR-15s and FALs were doing most of the work, backed up by the local Hood-equip AK platform variant. And doing shockingly well, even, for all that they were getting hit by airstrikes from the damned ships whenever they started getting momentum.

Airstrikes that I was, if not deflecting, then at least diverting with some judicious applications of the Force. Applications which left me open to attack by the larger elements whenever I did so, and were exploited ruthlessly…only to be counter-ambushed by my beautiful Knight of Mice mere moments after their arrival, thus clearing up more room for the small guys to have more of an impact.

Fun fact: despite what the games would try to say about it, .308 Winchester was still just as effective on aliens as it was on people. .45 ACP shockingly was even more so, and where that one dude had gotten a Barrett I would never know, but .50 BMG was once again proving to be the great equalizer in Infantry ammo.

Of course, this was all dealing with unarmored targets or the few times that the big boys dropped their guard and got sniped. None of the conventional shit was doing anything against the actual armor, which was expected and seemed to be accounted for by the defense simply by applying pinpoint accuracy to the problem.

Hey, its Texas. Tons of hunters over here, even in the "liberal hell" that is Houston, and lots of marksmen of both civvie and military provenance that could make the shots under pressure. (It is low-key the real reason why nobody actually wants to fuck with America when it comes to shit like invasions–they know full damn well that the civilians would eat their troops alive with raw skill.)

But back to Marcy and her damned Aura. Because her emotions were filtering out onto the defenders as we passed, bolstering their spirits and generally giving them the strength to carry forward in the face of Armageddon, which they did with gusto.

Maybe it was her Semblance?

"So, Satori. When you planning on pulling the saucers out of the air? Mousey wants to play~"

I should also mention that Marcy was very much not letting me live down the prior incident and was making it blatantly clear with her newly enhanced newtype powers (because of course they were) that she meant that in the most perverse, depraved and sexual manner possible. The bad guys being around were interrupting her potential "jump Satori" time, and that was unacceptable.

Too bad she would have to fight against Mio for that timeslot, because she had first dibs and already had made it clear that she was going to be making use of me.

Still, I had work to do, so unfortunately I couldn't address the innuendo. "I was aiming to try and find a big enough area where I could just drop the fuckers with no issues, preferably near the ship channel so I could avoid clogging up landmass we might need elsewhere. We still haven't gotten to the port proper yet, so I don't have the room I want to work with–"

Marcy cut me off almost immediately with a mental smack. "Satori. Stop thinking of this as the Houston you know. This city is completely different from the one that is a thriving metroplex. This place is struggling to stay relevant, even with the port, and only has as much traffic as it does because it's basically the only viable port in this part of the country left. Seriously, just pick a spot and start dropping flies. I can deal with the fallout until you are ready to back me up."

Honestly, I kind of felt like an idiot after hearing that.

Because she was right. Hell, I'd noticed it myself even before the attack kicked off. This Houston is very much not the thriving port city that was the crown jewel of the South and basically the fourth-largest city in America by size.

No, this was a place that was already struggling to get by, and was likely going to need months if not years of rebuilding to ever get back to anything looking like its former glory even by the standards of Earth Bet. And here I was, trying to spare as much as possible when it was already obvious that Mio and I were going to have to do a total overhaul of pretty much everything simply due to the sheer scope of even the current damage.

…I was going to chalk this up to a combination of brain fart and emotional overload from the massive backlash from the dead and dying around me. Yes, that was the reason and nothing else.

Stop laughing, both of you.

(Spoiler: they did not stop laughing.)

So, moment of embarrassing flubbery aside, all I needed to do was just find a spot I didn't really care about and start stacking spaceships until the idiots either got the message and bailed or, and this was the more desirable outcome, I ran out of ships to stack with.

Finding a suitable spot didn't take as long as I'd feared it would. There was an entire section of abandoned warehouses and similar former industry just kind of hanging around the area we were in, and all of it begging to be used as a landing pad for my targets.

I quickly got to a decent vantage point away from my drop zone and started scanning the skies. "Mouse, I need you to keep our guests busy while I start clearing out the skies. This is going to take most of my concentration and I am really not going to have much to spare to handle the chumps."

A feeling of approval and determination was my reply, and with that secured I got to work.

-=[/\]=-​

Sydney Orland, better known as the newest member of the Houston Protectorate Grey Knight (a "compromise" from his own preferred name of Orlandu, due to identity concerns), was in a bit of a bind.

Mostly because his family was caught out in the open when this little invasion kicked off, and he was too far away to see to their protection personally. Not that his wife couldn't take care of herself; Sharra was no slouch when it came to their shared powers by any means, but with the level of madness going on he wanted assurances.

Especially with his kids in the mix. They were just getting out of school when this shit started, and by all accounts would have been priority targets for the asshole aliens just to cause suffering and strife to the people…

"Daddy, look out!!"

A quick backspin into an empowered slash took out the oncoming insect thing that had been attempting to creep up on him, the carcass cleanly bisected with little effort. His daughter cheered from behind her improvised cover as the enemy fell before him, clearly excited to see her beloved daddy win against the bad guys.

Of course, this was yet another reminder of why he was in such a bind. He had both of his children with him at the moment, a lucky streak allowing him to locate them before things got really bad, and was currently looking for a place to stash them so he could get back to the fight proper. The issue was that basically every safe zone that he could think of was getting overrun long before he could even begin to help, and the few he knew of that were actually holding out had a figurative sea of aliens between him and safety…which was all but a death sentence for his children.

And that was just for the shit on the ground. Once you added in the crap floating above (that he was even now actively shielding against to prevent them from sniping him or his kids) then things got completely out of hand.

The fact that nobody could seem to figure out a plan and make it work was just the shitty icing on top of a shitty cake as far as he was concerned, and based on the waves of enemies headed his way the bad guys had obviously figured out that he was a soft target due to his kids and were angling to take him out of the fight as quickly as possible. The group he had just dealt with was the biggest pack he'd faced yet during the crisis, and he had a sneaking suspicion that they were only going to get even larger until something broke…

A strange groaning sound caught his attention, and he quickly snapped to the source…only to look on, slack-jawed at what he was witnessing.

One of the alien spaceships was quite literally being dragged out of the air by an unknown force. The ship was obviously struggling to try and break free from whatever it was that was pulling against it, but it was of little use, as the ship was inexorably dragged further towards its doom.

To make matters even worse for the bastards, whatever tinker weapon system that had been set up to help control the airspace had taken a look at the situation and decided to add its own opinion to the discussion, with large, hilariously powerful laser blasts reaching out and piercing through their targets with almost contemptuous ease now that they weren't dodging. They'd obviously hit something important, too, because suddenly the resistance against the ground-tugging failed outright and the enemy ship was…well, the only word that even fit was 'yeeted'., into the ground at tremendous speed and with exceptional force. Hell, the landing zone was clear on the other side of downtown and he still felt it from here.

Then a second, larger ship started to suffer the same fate, this time being dragged down even faster, almost as if whatever parahuman was responsible for this had finally gotten their bearings and was really putting in the work, now. The air defenses, likewise, seemed to understand almost immediately that the best option was to keep at least one gun ready and waiting for the inevitable tug-of-war match and then riddle the offending ship with holes until they hit something important and caused the ship to suffer another yeet reaction.

He continued to watch, transfixed, as the ships in the air kind of just…petered out, slowly, piece by piece, as they were yanked out of the air and peppered with what he could only describe as artillery-grade laser fire.

His kids, for a change, were actually enjoying the show, if their cheering was any indication.

Sadly, his big moment of introspection was cut short by yet another group of aliens coming directly for him, energy weapons (he suspected plasma of some kind) already firing–and not doing much to his shield. Sadly, the shield was not perfect by any means, so he had to actually engage this batch before they got too close and endangered his children.

But hey, he signed up for this, right?

-=[/\]=-​

So, in retrospect, I probably should have put a bit more preparation into the whole "lets' yeet the ships out of the sky" thing.

Mostly because, despite appearances, making gigantic towers out of the wreckage of alien spacecraft was very much not a good look, even if it was actually doing a lot for me in particular. Especially because I could feel the fuckers flailing in absolute Terror as they impacted the ground with forces sufficient to ensure that the ship would never fly again unless I laid hands on it personally.

Which was a good thing, because even though I was making this shit look easy, actually yanking those things out of the sky like that was almost impossibly difficult with my current skill level. Sure, the Force was juicing me up with pretty much everything to assist, but the simple fact of the matter was that this honestly should have been beyond my skill level if not for Mio taking advantage of my being able to grab the ships and arrest their movement long enough for her to land a critical hit. And I knew it was her, too, because of the raw, vindictive glee I was getting back from her as the ships went down, one by one.

That was the good news. The bad news was that the ground forces did not like this particular brand of events, and were increasing their efforts at preventing me from taking out their air support.

And they were coming in hot and heavy.

Those tanks I'd captured and disabled before? Apparently they had plenty of those just hanging around and were not afraid to deploy them if needed, in both the small and large varieties. The Mechs? Fuckers had modular loadouts and could vary their configuration enough that trying to adapt was only this side of a fool's errand.

Oh, and apparently they also had IFV equivalents, complete with Sectoids at the controls and some kind of amplifier for their mind control?

Like, Jesus fuck, I knew in the games that the Ayys were holding back, but this shit is ridiculous.

To anyone else, it would have been utter suicide, not even worth the attempt. Even for me, it would have been needlessly difficult to deal with all of that and still accomplish my goals on my own.

The problem that the Ayys currently faced was that, sadly for them, I was no longer alone.

And as good as those tanks and other miscellaneous armored vehicles may have been, they had shitty operators at the controls, beings who were unused to actually prosecuting a proper battle utilizing Armor.

And it was something that the newly arrived Texas National Guard took immense relish in teaching them the error of.

With extreme brevity.

Seriously, I hadn't even noticed the guys had arrived in all the chaos. One minute, I am dodging and flailing away from weapons fire while trying to hold one of their bigger ships still long enough for Mio to get a shot, and the next the very enemies firing on me were being subjected to actual, proper Armored Warfare…or at least the mechanized infantry version thereof.

As it turns out, the Earth Bet version of the Texas National Guard Armory kept a significant ready reserve force for "just in case" situations just like this one, and were more than willing to make use of it where they could. The only issue they really had to deal with was travel time from the Armory and potentially fuel concerns for the bigger stuff, which was probably why they were using the light stuff instead.

Which meant that the Ayys were now subjected to the unrelenting skill and determination of the US Army in Reinforced Company strength…which was, shockingly enough, just what Mouse Protector and I needed to get back into the game and finish the job.

Even better, the Guys in the Stryker IFVs made a point of not interrupting my yanking the ships out of the air just to introduce themselves, and even treated Mouse like one of their own in their planning!!

"Focus fire on those mechs, keep them pinned down!!"

"Engineers to the disabled vehicles! See if you can get those started up!!"

"Javelin teams, on me!! Aim for the big one, two o'clock!"

It was simply beautiful to not only see, but hear my people in action. Yes, they were ground pounders and thus automatically inferior to my excellence as an Airman, but that was for later. Right now, the Green Machine was spinning up, and woe betide anything that stood in its way.

I just stayed focused on the ships that needed to die as I continued stacking my jenga tower of doom.

'Satori, the interference is clearing up. Looks like it was coming from the ships, and needed a critical mass to stay operational. I should have a line with the leadership soon to coordinate things!!'

Oh Hell Yes.

The defense getting actual comms back was pretty much the ball game for the invasion as a whole, as that meant that people could call for backup from unaffected areas and coordinate fire support from beyond visual range onto targets.

This meant that we could call in the other members of the Triumvirate to help clear this mess up in short order, as well as the other National guard units. And with the air cover gone, the Air Guard now came into play, complete with all of the Air Power a man could want.

Things were finally looking up.

So, of course, the damned Ayys had to try and invoke Murphy by taking all of their remaining air assets and attempting to divebomb me at speed, likely hoping to take me out before they died by any means necessary.

Too bad for them that Mio is just as empathic and precognitive as I am, and had already adjusted the other Volcano Lances to compensate for the new trajectory.

Also helped that the dumbasses were still so close to Downtown, but that was their fault

"Hey, Satori, we got incoming, you need to…oh."

That was Mouse, trying to bail me out before the storm hit…only to watch as the incoming ships got sniped out of the sky by pinpoint Laser Lance fire. And then be possessed of even more awe as I immediately spiked the ship into the ground to kill its forward momentum before it could still do what it wanted and flatten my location underneath itself.

Judging from the whooping and cheers I could hear from the back, the Guardsmen were equally impressed at the spectacle.

I felt more than heard their commander approach me, once the area was clear enough to do so. Giving him a brief glance out of the corner of my eye, I only noted the important bits: the unit patches in their appropriate places, the nametape on his pockets (Parker, from the looks of it) and, most importantly, the Flag patch on his shoulder, stars forward and rushing into battle.

And his rank patch, of course. Captain, he was.

I conspicuously avoided giving him a salute, which he noted in the back of his mind appreciatively. "Mr. Green? I'm Captain Raymond Parker, with the Texas National Guard. We were ordered to locate you and assist in any way possible."

I finally turned fully to the Captain, which not only let him see my own rank patch of warrant officer, an action that elicited a snort of amusement from the man before he regained his decorum, but let me get a proper look at the man himself. Overall, not much to say: pretty average for a white guy, in what would be considered an attractive way by those inclined. The only point of note on my end was the blonde hair and gray eyes.

"No problem, Captain, Definitely could use the help right now, especially as all of these mechs and shit need people to operate them so we can start cleaning up. If you'll give me a few minutes, I can see about setting things up so you actually have real firepower to work with and not the usual stuff, sir."

Captain Parker nodded. "I say get to it, and keep us posted on what you got available. Any word from up the chain on your end? My guys can't punch through the interference for shit." He waved in the direction of his command vehicle for emphasis, where a radioman was finishing up a quick check of his gear before attempting to send another transmission out.

"Hoo boy, do I have good news for you." I grinned, rubbing my hands together. "As it turns out, the ships I've been dragging out of the air here were the source of the jamming and emissions static, so every one I took out cleared up the airwaves. I haven't actually poked my head back in there, yet, but my guess is that things should be clear enough to get word out to everyone else that the skies are clear to send in the air support for cleanup. Also, what happened to the Artillery? I thought there was a depot for that in town?"

Parker pumped his fist in victory, then immediately started handing out orders. "Simmons, radio should be clear. Get on the horn to the big wigs and tell 'em to get the good stuff in ASAP. Riley, call the other teams and get everyone on the same page."

I decided to preempt him on his next orders. "Make sure they tell the brass to get in touch with my wife, if possible, so she can coordinate getting everyone better gear. You're gonna need it for the bigger fuckers" Parker looked at me briefly before nodding, and I returned my attention to the Captain. "As for the rest, I have some work to do. First tank should be ready in five, tops, have your guys ready to go so we don't get jumped, please." I took off to work before he could get a word in edgewise, though judging from the light chuckles I heard with my large, exceptionally sensitive ears I doubt that he was going to say anything.

As for the public?

All I heard from them that wasn't more shooting at the alien assholes was cheering as the real heroes showed up.

-=[/\]=-​

Captain Shawn Simms, callsign "Bruiser", looked on at the chaos of the streets of Houston in disgust and very carefully controlled fury.

What the X-Ray attack had done to the people of the city was unimaginable, the barbarity and callousness on full display for all but the blind to see for themselves.

Bodies, everywhere…at least, where there weren't more of the damned abduction pods that they still had no clue how to open safely. Wreckage and rubble everywhere, with the fighting having completely torn apart some buildings while leaving others almost completely untouched.

The smell. That distinct, unnatural, different odor that always came with the Aliens when they arrived, when they attacked.

The only difference from other attacks and landing zones was that this particular engagement was far larger in scale than what XCOM was normally used to seeing…and that the Aliens had clearly not been having it all their way, even despite having broken out new technology just for this run.

The strewn remains of their opponents were everywhere. The bodies of the opposition were all over the place, and with wounds ranging from multiple gunshots to what looked like edged weapons to even a case of what looked like a freaking Mechtoid being ripped apart with bare hands. Even in the midst of the ongoing tragedy, it was clear that the city nor its inhabitants had any intention of dying quietly.

Something made even more apparent as he and his squad rounded a corner and came face to face with what would normally be open parkland, strewn with the wreckage of alien vehicles and what looked like some form of bipedal, piloted mecha.

Whoever had been doing this was putting in some work.

Still, he and his people had a job to do.

"Fan out. Fast Assault formation, watch the flanks. We have approximately half a kilometer to go before we hit the Hospital Zone–don't lose it now, people. Keep an eye out for stragglers or any civilians as we go."

The Team acknowledged his commands and prepared to move. Meanwhile, their tagalongs turned auxiliary element were obviously wary and rattled. It was clear just from body language that neither of the men (not boys; anyone who was willing to brave the hellscape that the city had become had more than earned that right) looking outward with suspicious eyes wanted to be here

Simms didn't blame them. He'd been on enough drops to know all too well that shit could go wrong at the worst of times just because you decided to not look at a completely bare wall a few seconds ago, let alone missing a hiding enemy in the middle of a debris-strewn battlefield with plenty of cover and concealment.

And that was before the damned insect things had come along. Chryssalids Uber had called them. A terror weapon of immense magnitude that acted like alien botflies and implanted their young inside the dead bodies of those they killed, then reanimated the body as a kind of zombie before hatching out a new bug to repeat the process.

Vahlen had been adamant about getting a sample to study as soon as possible, to see if there was a counter, and for once nobody had anything to say about it.

That alone rang warning bells for many; Vahlen was notoriously callous about anything that wasn't science and learning more about the alien threat that besieged them, to the point that she would often be seen as semi-dismissive of the lives of the soldiers out on the field.

Bruiser knew better. As did everyone who was around for the first few missions, who had been there when the war was really getting started.

Or when he alone had returned from that disastrous first op that had wiped out the rest of his team with almost zero effort. He'd seen it then, the way she reacted. The one time she'd allowed the mask to slip.

Still, the fact that she was so blatantly letting her normal mask slip off over this… it had him worried.

Worried that this war was about to enter a new and far more terrifying phase.

"Contact left! Type Unknown!"

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance, via some weird-ass purple sphere thing, no less, of a group of X-Rays on their left side, up on the small berm that served as a boundary into Hermann Park proper. And the group was…

Okay, he didn't know what to think about those fuckers. It was yet more new types, this time some variation on the Cyberdiscs that was instead a giant sphere, along with a bunch of weirdly mechanical hulking things with big guns.

He didn't need t tell the team to get to cover, they were already moving as soon as the callout was made….and to his horror it didn't seem like it was going to do any good. The hulking asshats were, on closer inspection, wearing what looked like fucking personal power armor and acting like a super-heavy shock troop, complete with what looked like a no-shit plasma cannon, meanwhile the spheres…

The Spheres were going to be a problem. He could feel it.

"What kind of alien is that? I've never…is that a weaponized life support frame?"
"I can't tell just from looking at it, but that cannon on the arm seems like it means business. I'm more worried about the giant orbs…this is a significant escalation of the Alien's previous drone technology…"

"Either way, the big one looks ready to smash something. Stay sharp, Strike One."

Drs. Shen and Vahlen were obviously trying their best to get a read on what the hell they had just run into, and it wasn't looking good if they were both confused like that. Central wasn't much better, even if his additional tactical analysis was useful in corroborating what everyone else probably felt as well.

One of the spheres opened fire on his position, forcing him back down behind the garbage truck he was using as cover. To his horror, the weapon, some kind of laser, did horrendous damage to his cover, melting a significant way through the truck itself. It almost certainly wasn't going to be able to take more than one or two more of those, at best.

Unfortunately, moving was…contraindicated at the moment. There were at least six of the fucking orb things, each with that big-ass laser cannon, and while it was apparently inaccurate (as judged by Rush, the lucky bastard, somehow managing to not get hit by one as he was diving behind a concrete divider) the punch was very much undeniable. Meanwhile, the armored things were just charging through whatever the hell they felt like just because, including all the potential alternate cover locations as they moved in on his team.

One of the power armor suits stopped for a moment, seemed to angle itself in the oddest fashion for a moment…and then fired off a goddamn blob of something from its shoulders that splashed all over Rush's position.

His scream of pain and panic chilled him to his soul.

The substance, obviously some sort of acid, was clearly eating through the concrete as Rush screamed louder, desperately trying to scrape as much of the stuff off of himself as possible…before a plasma shot from one of the other ones stilled him.

Briggs' scream of rage echoed through the air as she almost immediately broke cover and unloaded everything she had at the X-rays, her Heavy Laser Cannon doing a surprisingly good job of tearing at the armored asshats…before a laser shot from one of the spheres blew a literal hole in her torso, taking her down.

The raccoon lady traveling with them quickly moved to try and shield what was left of his comrades while digging for something on her person, though to what end he had no idea. Meanwhile, her son made an attempt at rushing the one responsible, only for a coordinated crossfire to push him back just as quickly as he came. Uber, for his part, was already moving to try and tend to the wounded, with Leet covering him as much as he could, which wasn't anywhere near as much as they needed…and the less said about the rest of his people with them at the moment, the better.

Sticky wicket didn't even begin to describe this…

"Strike One, this is Xanadu Actual."

'And now the Boss Lady is on the horn. This can't be good…'

Sure, the Commander technically had tactical command of the situation by her own order, but in practice how that worked was that she gave a general directive based on the overall picture that the bosses could see from their own sensor feeds, and he utilized his best judgement on how to carry out the order as directed. Under more ideal circumstances this could, and had, led to a pseudo chess match as the Commander shuffled people around almost like a tactical game to achieve near impossible victories, but in this situation she was acting more as an Operator assist than anything else, especially with how quickly the battlefield was changing around them.

The Commander spoke, as usual, with an iron core of resolve. "You are authorized to eliminate the new X-Ray assets by any means necessary, preferably before they can begin attacking civilians. On my order."

…Oh. Now that changed things somewhat.

Fun fact: XCOM had a lot more fun toys waiting in the wings than people thought they did, including a few gee-whiz doohickeys derived from tinkertech thanks to some "friends" they had access to. Toys which included a few party favors that normally would not be authorized for use inside of an urban area due to their…potential.

Toys which were now fully and unambiguously on the table.

Simms wasted no time. "Strike One, Crackerjacks are authorized, now light em up!!!"

"Crackerjacks" in this case being the shorthand for the tinker improvised grenades that were now being thrown or, in one case, launched into the enemy formation. Grenades that had some very interesting effects.

Like freezing things. Or corroding the hell out of the alloys involved. Or in one particularly vicious hit, just outright popping a fucker with an energy field and watching it fry itself with its own reflected heat output cranked up to who knows what.

Simms could only laugh in triumph as he saw the results. Most X-Rays down, with only a few of the new floater things still hanging around to cause trouble, and all of them heavily damaged. Those would be easy enough to get around, anyway, now that they weren't swarming them with backup…

"Hey, what the hell? Wasn't that the Random Bomb that I made a few months back? How the hell?"

And that was the other amusing part: the fact that the gear was based off of none other than the very tinker they were fighting alongside's tech. Even better, the "random bomb" he was speaking of was meant for a show idea based on Bomberman that fell through when the local authorities refused to grant them the needed explosives permits to make it work right. All XCOM had done was take the idea and…play with it a little…

"Strike One, This is Central. Scope looks clear, proceed to…wait, what the hell?!"

Central's shock immediately had Simms looking around for whatever the hell was the cause…and it let him see the alien armor suits getting back up as if nothing had gone wrong.

As in all of them. Standing back up, and clearly moving into combat positions, despite the obvious cockpit-slash-control center having been damaged or destroyed in some capacity.

"...Wait a minute, look at their movements!!"

It was, oddly enough, the small raccoon child who pointed it out: the alien armor suits were moving jankily, almost haphazardly, as if whatever was controlling them had no actual skill in operating the technology in this environment. In fact, if not for their sheer bulk it was clearly obvious that at least one of the suits would have long since fallen back over already.

Which gave him a plan of sorts.

"Falcon, talk to me. You see the funky power armor moving in on us?"

"Copy visual, boss. Whatcha need?"

"Hit the fucker on our left with the Bertha, would ya? You should know the one."

"Copy target. Stand by."

Falcon, AKA Sergeant Jerry Grimes, formerly USMC, was the team's resident Sniper, and a graduate of the Marine Scout Sniper program prior to his selection for XCOM. He was easily the best shot on the team, and arguably in the entire organization with some of the insanity that he could pull, with only the leaders of Strike Six and Strike Seven being on the same level.

In fact, even now Simms could almost see the targeting reticle of the advanced scope on the new heavy laser sniper moving into position and giving the appropriate information needed for the shot. Not a second later, the crack of a bolt of light impacted with the designated armor, practically blowing it apart with the sheer force the shot imparted.

Sims, and quite a few of the others, could only whistle in appreciation. The Bertha was the heaviest gun they had available to use, and it was very much proving that the "Lasgun" tech was definitely superior to the lasers that XCOM had previously been developing.

Falcon, taking a bit of initiative, quickly shifted targets and started laying down fire on the other wild alien power armors as well, making use of the incredibly quick cycle time on the Sniper to extreme effect while the rest of the team cough their breath. Which was a good thing, because it left the rest of the m to focus down on the fucking orbs and start taking them out.

Leet chose that moment to aim a device at one of the Sphere things and fired it off…only to emote in clear confusion as whatever was supposed to happen didn't.

"Guys? We have a problem!! Those Orbs, they're not–"

Leet never got to finish his sentence. Instead, he was interrupted by one of the orbs opening itself up, and revealing the horror within.

Namely, the mass of flesh and tentacles that served as the core of the Orb-thing, openly flailing and clearly swirling with the telltale signs of psionic energy as it did something…

The energy quickly spread across the battlefield in a moderate radius, even covering many of the recently created corpses strewn all over the place.

And those very corpses began to move, rising up once again and clearly under the control of the alien.

"And, of course, it had to be more zombies."

The statement caused nearly everyone to blink in confusion. The Raccoon woman, whose name he still hadn't gotten, was suddenly standing right in the middle of the newly formed zombie swarm, with an air of blatant irritation surrounding her.

"Because, after everything else that has happened today, we have to keep hammering on the classics, right? Keep giving me reminders…"

She swung her weapon once, in a wide, almost lazy arc.

Everything in the path of that swing, and a good few meters out from it as well, found itself cleaved in two…including the X-Ray that was still exerting its energies on the zombies.

"So how about I give you something to remember as well, hm? Marcos, stand back for a moment."

And then she moved.

Even augmented as he was, Simms couldn't see the movement. He was pretty sure that not even Falcon had seen it when it happened, and he easily had the best eyes of them all present.

The result, however, was undeniable. Everything that was still moving on the X-ray side just…stopped for a moment…before simply falling into two, or in the case of the last remaining power armor thing, multiple pieces. All of which were clearly down and unresponsive.

Her kid, Marcos apparently, quickly zoomed back from wherever he had ducked for the moment to survey the damage. " Wow, Mama!! All of that with just four swings?"

WHAT.

Four sw–no, there was no time for any of that. There was still an objective to reach, a city to save, and after that…then maybe he would get some answers as to how the hell a single mother with an archaic weapon was doing more damage to the enemy than his highly-trained troops.

Hopefully.

-=[/\]=-​

The Medical Center area was complete bedlam.

It seemed like everything that could be directed at the area was hitting it all at once…and judging by the literal berms of bodies surrounding the place, they were failing.

Miserably.

Even now, as Strike One moved in on their objective, the cause of said berms was making itself known and apparent, complete with the cacophony of light and destruction that only heavy las weapons could provide.

The setup only made Richie want to meet whoever was responsible for setting it up even more.

Much to the shock of everyone involved, the aliens were seemingly ignoring their advance onto the complex, instead doing everything they could to try and get something past the defenses…and failing miserably.

Granted, the sheer push was creating enough of a buffer zone that anything that wasn't them trying to make a break for the obvious safe location was going to die in the attempt anyway, but ti was the principle of the matter. You treated the enemy like they were actually dangerous and out to get you, not like worthless chumps who didn't know better. Not doing so was one of the fastest ways to get surprised by some newbie cape with an insanely powerful and/or expansive ability when you least expected it, after all.

Case in point, a group (he was tempted to call them a pod, but nobody but Virgil would get the reference) of Mutons was attempting to use the improvised berms as cover from the oncoming laser fire, only to get shanked in the back by little Marcos as he sped by, twin blades flashing as he moved. His mother was not far behind him, finishing up the job her son did not with clean decapitations of her opponents.

For their part, the XCOM guys were no slouches, either. Apparently fired up by the display of annoyed Raccoon Mom earlier against the Orb things, they had clearly stepped up their own game and were pushing ever harder in their own assaults, complete with using even more tinkertech-derived toys to tear into the enemy as they moved.

Well, it could also be the fact that they were moving their severely injured comrades with them, with hopes of accessing some medical attention once they got in.

Still, even with the clear double hammer punch being delivered by the obvious professionals and the mom-and-son duo, a hole in the attack wave was not appearing.

And they were running out of time. The "intelligent" aliens may have been ignoring them, but the Chryssalids sure as hell were not, and it was taking everything that both himself and Uber had at the moment to keep the fuckers off of the group…a fact that was made worse by the fact that the damned things were apparently evolving in real time, now, or at least having the successive generations of offspring become stronger and faster than the last. The Weapons they had available were getting dangerously close to not cutting it anymore with the rapid escalation going on.

Besides, they were running out of ammo, and the spares were back with the Van, AKA not here. It was looking suspiciously like they weren't actually going to make it to their objective without somebody forcing the issue one way or another…and the consequences of that were likely to be dire.

"...Mama, what's that noise?"

Marcos had stopped for a moment, clearly straining to hear something and try to identify it by the noticeable twitching of his ears. Based on his focus, the noise he was hearing was coming from the south end somewhere…but even accounting for Marcos having better hearing than everyone else here, whatever was moving must have been loud as all hell to be noticeable over the din of combat, especially here.

And the only thing he could think of that was that loud was–

There were a series of *bloop* sounds suddenly noticeable over the din. Almost immediately after, there was near complete chaos as an entire section of the wall of bodies–and the aliens that were hiding behind it–were blown sky high.

And coming from the very direction that Marcos had been monitoring, down one of the somehow still barely navigable streets, was a military vehicle. Specifically, one in the distinct olive drab of the US Army…and mounting what looked to be a grenade launcher of some sort, complete with wisps of barrel heat from recent use.

Ritchie had to blink for a moment at the inconsistency he'd just noticed. This was Texas. In the middle of Summer. With a day that was already breaking 100 before the aliens showed up. How the hell was he seeing barrel heat?

Said question was soon answered as the vehicle opened fire again, and this time he–and everyone else–could clearly see the trails of energy from the weapon as it launched its payload at another section of the berm, blowing away yet more attackers and more of the built-up wall in the process.

Weirdly enough, the bad guys actually took this one seriously. A bunch of the other alien types, including one of the mechanized Sectoid bastards that had basically camped their van, almost immediately changed targets to try and take out the vehicle…what looked like a Bradley IFV, if he remembered correctly. Much to his surprise, the vehicle didn't immediately die in flames when the return fire hit, instead, some kind of energy field revealed itself, deflecting the energy-based attacks away from the IFV, leaving it free to counterattack without fear.

Naturally, XCOM was enthused.

"Oh HELL Yeah! Army finally got off its asses and got some work done, eh?"
Surprisingly, the IFV responded via an external speaker system. "Ah, you must be a marine to be bitching like that, then. See if the Army ever bails your asses out again, Jarhead!!"

That this was said while using a heavily modified M-2 Machine gun to mow down yet more aliens attempting to take the vehicle out removed what little sting was actually present in the barb.

"Anyway, heard from a little birdie that you guys were in the area and would probably need some help, so here we are!! And since we got all kinds of new and shiny gear to beat people up with, figured we could use it to deal some damage, right?"

That part caught Ritchie's attention. "New gear? From who?"

The speaker was obviously in a sharing mood. "Ah, you guys must not know. Our team ran into him during our push into the city. A Warrant Officer Green? He fixed our stuff up with some new goodies to keep us alive in this shitstorm. It's helping a lot, lemme tell ya!"

The leader of the XCOM guys perked up at that. "Wait, you met one of the Greens? We were supposed to be linking up with 'em around here and getting some help to clear the city out. You know which way he went? We need to catch up before he gets too far off."

"No need, Captain. You're in the right spot."

The newest voice in this conversation was arguably the weirdest of them all, considering that the owner was walking out of the hospital at the time.

The Hospital, whose entrance was still well over a hundred feet away and still surrounded by active defensive measures, making a lot of noise.

And yet, everyone had clearly heard her voice as clear as day, even him.

"Apologies if this is a little weird for you guys with the telepathy and all, but it's easier to communicate over the noise like this. I'll make a hole to get you guys inside and get your people patched up…especially that Rush guy, considering he was already flat lining before I got a hold on him. Move unless you want them dead, Captain."

The woman, clearly one of the animal hybrid people with obvious horns and a lizard tail, then looked directly at him. "As for you, Mr. Foley? You and your partner are going to be getting a crash course in Infantry combat tactics and field acquisition. I'm going to be using you two as pack mules for a bit while I hold things down here. And since I have no intention on either of you dying in the process, I need to get your gear up to spec before I send you back out. So don't get too comfortable just yet."

Before Virgil could ask the obvious question, a pack of the never to be sufficiently damned Orbs showed up, this time flanked by dozens of–wait, were those fucking Wanzers?

Not that she cared about that, as with nary a gesture, a particularly vicious cannon materialized itself over her shoulder and proceeded to completely annihilate every piece of opposition that had made itself known before they could even so much as get off a shot.

She even had the decency to look apologetic as she finally came within normal speaking range. "Sorry about that. Every time I try to poke my head out I get swarmed, and if I ever actually bothered to leave, the rest would just overrun the Hospital and break the safe zone. Which is why I need you two to go and gather stuff for me, and for Strike One, here, so we can actually get this clusterfuck unfucked sometime this month."

She then shrugged slightly, the small flame on her tail flickering as she swished it about.. "On the plus side, I have hot food if you wanna eat before you head out…"

Virgil turned to Ritchie. "They'll never believe us."

Ritchie could only nod in agreement. No, they would never believe them. Nobody would.

- = | | | | | | | | | | = -​

And thus, the Battle of Houston come more or less to an end. Yes, I know l've left some loose ends in the air, but they will get covered next chapter. I've held this one off long enough.

To answer some preemptive questions:
Mio's defenses re that good, and the attakcers are that numerous. It's actually kind of ridiculous, and only the raw, unfiltered panic of the Ethereals is preventing them from shifting targets to something that isn't Mio's little holdout bunker, and part of that is that Satori literally dragged their air support out of the sky with raw Force. Kind of hard to top that without putting in direct appearances.

Virgil and Ritchie are rather obvious references for those who are in the know. Admittedly I swapped things around slightly, as Ritchie should technically be Kid Win if I was really going to dig the knife in, but it was easier to use U&L for this instead.

And sadly, Uber is not Black, despite the reference.

As for the Stryker/Bradley misidentiication? A combination of Ritchie being under stress, mis-IDing the vehicle, and Satori doing enough mods on the damned things by request to get them in the fight and mobile as SAR while the alien tanks are reconfigured for use by the Armor teams. It was faster than trying to make the Ayys IFVs work for Humans, and Satori could rig a power supply out of the materials on hand from the wrecks

Finally, Eidolon is still alive and will be mentioned next chapter, so don't panic. I just didn't feel like adding him in here. Expect to see the rest of the Triumvirate put in an appearance as well.

 

[caspian1a]

It's alive!
Good chapter, now to re-read at least some of this story.

 

[ATP]

Well,since we have worm here,killing Entity would be not easy even for MC....

 

[Venumize]

I don't remember this at all. Ah well, time for a reread because ATM I am left scratching my head and ass on wtf is going on.

 

[Kris-71854]

I don't remember this at all. Ah well, time for a reread because ATM I am left scratching my head and ass on wtf is going on.

Click to shrink...

Let's see if I remember it. The MC started off in WH40K. He jumped to Prey with his waifu and team of kerbals. Next, he is on the moon with moon base. It's not just Earth Bet. It's Earth Bet, X-Com, Star Gate, and a portal to the setting Arknights. MC and waifu dragon yandere make contact with the US military and arrange to give them scifi high tech goodies/care package. The parahuman folks didn't like that and were trying to call dibs as anything high-tech had to be theirs to play with.

The local PRT has more effective enemy factions that didn't let them play their games. The MC and the waifu were touring around when a massive X-Com alien invasion happened. Worse still, that's not the only alien invasion. They've detected another much larger incoming fleet. Don't recall what faction or any hints of it.

The force and Gaia/Alya (Don't recall which one) were woken up and spread about in the WH40K setting massively empowering humanity.

One of those paradox things if they lose the four chaos gods get this planet and the option of spreading through all the connected settings. So that made it feel like the incoming fleet was WH40K chaos aligned in some manner.

The last several chapters were all massive fights on the planet. It wasn't just Houston. It was all over. X-Com was a global thing in the background. I wouldn't be surprised if the parahumans or PRT had no clue about that.

The BB stuff was interesting due to the various background things. If I recall correctly, Danny had another daughter. I don't recall who that was. Major fighting going on there. The MC's ID was over there and we got to see a bit of what was going on over there.

The heavy hitters weren't able to back anyone else up. They were too tied down in their respective cities/regions. The aliens knew about them and planned accordingly.

I don't recall much of the MP or the arknight mom wanting into the MC's pants. I don't recall this being a harem MC. This MC was rather happy with his yandere enginseer.

I'd need to re-read the last 6 chapters to recall why MP was perving/attracted to the MC so much and the MC wasn't worried about the wife killing her off.

He also healed impossible to heal folks from arknights so those folks are rather fanatic about being his followers if allowed to.

 

[Zagareth Rhaveno]

It's alive! Hooray!