Within the tool shed, I watch my mirror attempt an experiment I've been wanting to learn about. My copy takes a deep breath, and I watch him cast hypnosis on himself.
"Be uncontrollably angry."
There's a fraction of a second where it's face grimaces, then it looks at me in excitement. Smiling, I cover the SCP in a hastily projected tarp for a moment. Instantly, the mirror sends the memories, and I feel a buzz down into my bones.
Having mental partitions offers a buffer for extreme emotional manipulation. My grin threatens to split my face.
Something that is widely thought (correctly, it should be noted) is that emotions are vital to the power of magic. The question I've had is this: How far can I push forced emotions into boosting magecraft effectively?
It seems stupid at first glance, but with self-hypnosis, I can make myself feel any way I desire. The problem this runs into is keeping a level enough head to actuate mysteries while absolutely drowning in emotions. It is a ludicrously dangerous concept, Mastering myself so totally would never be done by any sane person. However, with a fiat backed mental partition and a perfectly willing and compatable test subject, the scenario was ripe to see if it was safe enough to test.
It was.
This means that once I find the right emotions to amp up to eleven, all my spells and rituals should see a respectable boost in power. At least, as long as I use an Aria to cast hypnosis along with the other mysteries. Looking at the clock on the wall, I wince at the reminder that I had told Thomas I was relaxing for today. It's fine, I'll just spend a couple hours testing this and get on with my mandated break.
Line Break
"The strings of Fate dance."
A single strand of Fiber extends, and running it through a multitude of bounded fields reveal a noticeable twenty three percent increase in tensile strength, modest twelve percent increase in prana efficiency, a slight eight percent decrease in deterioration, and a truly impressive thirty seven percent increase in prana conductivity. I would say this is a great breakthrough. One I can actually say with relative certainty is only usable by me.
For my current roster of mysteries, forcing mostly apathy has given an appreciable improvement to my magecraft, but it needs a veritable cocktail of other emotional states mixed in for optimization. Righteous anger, however, is exponentially more potent for my Semblance spells. The difference is at least double in power at half the cost, an effective four times increase in efficiency! Presumably, different magic systems utilize different emotions to different extents. I need to continue these tests again to find a better ratio for magecraft, but this should do for now, and I can have my mirror research this in my stead.
I'll file this study temporarily completed and move on to improving my elemental prowess.
After a quick break for lunch, I grabbed a hunk of granite from a failed attempt at making another guardian. I tossed it casually into a bounded field. Glancing at the results made me want to bang my head against a wall.
This one easy test was all it took to remember that stones, metals, and wood all have their own elemental and conceptual alignments. I didn't even think of the implications outside of elemental synergy, and I was so focused on precious gems like diamonds and emeralds that I didn't even bother looking at the less expensive materials, either!
With a bit of help from Revere flashing me close to the multitude of stores I needed to hit, I was testing stone and metal like a man possessed.
Turquoise has a prominent affinity with mental magics and a weak connection to water. Coal is mostly linked to earth and fire, unsurprisingly. White marble only seems to work with pure holy light. Appalachian granite is more conceptual in nature than elemental, being all about containment and stability. Iron detests my Mystery, always corroding it away. Steel is mostly conductive of anything but truly shines with blood, sacrifice, and curse magic. Quartz is alligned to light and information based mysteries. Copper is great with nature magic. Brass downright sings for air and wind.
There's a ton more to learn, but the most important thing for me is that I can make some trinkets to improve my capabilities! With a steel bangle containing turquoise and white quartz, I can use hypnosis and scanning magic at a new tier of efficiency. Granite cuffs with onyx inlayed in the clasps and iron chains connecting them allow me to make power suppressing manacles. The more I discover, the more doors are flung wide open, and this isn't even including how certain geometry seems to influence the end product. I could study this for decades and still be finding new properties!
My hands flicker with swift and controlled movements. All around me materials gradually heat up while connected to a Fiber each. Out the window, a bunch of pet tier summons are playing with Ariel acting as denmother, herding the horde of hyperactive hijinks away from the shed's hazardous inhabitants. With all ten summoning slots filled, I'm effectively running eleven separate experiments, all of which are performed as safe as possible. In SCP-919, my mirror copy is doing eleven far more destructive tests that have already destroyed the mirrored lab three times, after which I simply cover the mirrors in gradation air cloth before revealing the lab again to reset it.
My mirror destroys his lab for the fourth time, and an alarm going off makes me look at the clock on the wall. It's 6:00pm. Damn, dinner time already, huh? I wrap up any pertinent projects and start cleaning my workshop.
I freeze on my way out upon realizing what I'd been doing.
Did I just enact a separate experiment through each of my partitions?
I dash back inside and try to set up the seven layer matrix I use for my in-depth examinations, and I find that conjuring every lattice at once is a breeze. Ok, this is huge. No, this is way bigger than huge. This is groundbreaking!
With three partitions watching and correcting the others, the bounded field is working in minutes. This means so much, I can't even fathom how far this might go. Could I train this to eventually do multi casting outside of my owned lands? I grin as a bit of mental gymnastics prods my Trainer power just right to say yes.
I don't have the resources to exploit this properly, but that will change in the future. I'll eventually have the spells, expertise, experience, prana, and Mystic Codes to do so. I just need to be patient and careful, and I might just be able to pull off the miracle this world needs.
I hiss as the pain on my wrist becomes too much to ignore. The bangle I'm still wearing is blistering hot, only my aura protecting me from the burns it should have given me. My magic circuits are inflamed and tender, making my skin an unhealthy pink with wisps of steam wafting off me. Using self-hypnosis to dull my pain receptors may allow longer usage of magecraft, but my body is still getting damaged. I spare a second to lament my current limitations, but I'll break them all in due time. For now, I close the field and the workshop door.
I give a soft whistle to Ariel, and she turns curiously in my direction. Upon seeing her trainer cospaying a lobster dinner, she begins to berate me for my carelessness. I grimace in discomfort, and the scolding quickly transitions into worried croons. She immediately heals my injuries with a bucket of ice-cold Life Dew. The heavy sigh of relief I give is met with a light tail slap and a pouting Milotic.
"I'm sorry for overworking myself. I started making leaps in my magecraft and got extremely sidetracked. I will, from now on, dedicate one of my partitions to monitoring myself to prevent it from happening again." My words got a severe nod, and my friendly eel wraps me up in demand of proper attention.
"Alright, calm down now, Ariel. It's dinner time, and I asked Thomas to get a full pig from the butcher yesterday. It's been marinating overnight in that spiced sample of Life Dew I asked you for, so it's gonna be a bit special, yeah?" Glutton that she is, my summon cheers at my words. My lips curl into a gentle smile.
As I get the needed spices and side dishes ready, I feel a tug on my pants.
I look to see Crasberry with one claw holding my jeans and the other pointing towards the doorway outside, distressed bubbles foaming his mouth. I barely stifle a chuckle at the predicament my pet summons have found themselves in.
The turtleduck was hiding behind a giggling Ariel, Swablu was cackling atop the tool shed, and the others were in varying states of curiousity and shock. Standing there, looking surprised at his own success, was Theo, holding a captured and comically horror-stricken weasel. Suddenly, all the pets dived at the young lad, tickling him to recover their comrade. The happy squeal of laughter was heard over the throng of laughing animals, and I lost my battle to remain stoic.
Somehow, the animals conveyed the idea to play tag, and Theo was all too willing to join. As the kid had the time of his life in the yard, Kayden entered the kitchen. She looks outside, and a small smile graces her features.
"Did you summon those just to play with Theo?"
I shake my head. "Not originally. I might, from now on, ask him to keep an eye on them while I work, though. He's obviously enjoying himself out there."
Kayden turns a slightly worried look my way. "Do you think he'd be responsible enough?"
I reassure her. "Ariel would be there if anything got out of hand. She's great with the pets. I don't know if he can handle the full responsibility alone, but for now, he won't have to. It's more just a chance for him to relax."
She nods and returns to watching the tag devolve into another tickle pile. I get back to work on dinner, mixing a dozen herbs, some of which I foraged from the woods right outside, and set them on the counter before turning to the fridge for the main course.
"Do I deserve to be a parent?"
The words shock me out of my groove. I turn to see she hasn't looked away from Theo for a moment.
"Where'd that come from?"
She purses her lips. "I was never there for Theo like a mother should have been. I always saw too much of Max, the Max I fell in love with. It hurt to see that, like a constant reminder that I was too naive and stupid to see him for who he was."
"Theo or Max?"
She sighs. "I guess both, now. I was so stupid to let my problems taint my relationship with my stepson, but I did. If I can't even be a mother to a child as sweet as Theo, should I really get the chance to try with Aster?"
She lets out a single, quiet sob, and I deliberate on her question. I eventually respond.
"I don't think you have a choice."
She turns to me, confused. I continue. "It's not about if you deserve to be a parent. It's about if they deserve a mother. And they do. You won't be the perfect mother, but you'll be the best they can get because you're all they got. The choice of being a parent disappeared the moment you became one. So, all you can do is try your hardest to learn after every mistake and be better. Not for you, but for them."
She nods, determination gathering in her teary eyes. She lets out a weak chuckle.
"Look at me, dumping my issues onto others all over again."
I crack a sad smile. "We all need help at some point. If I were to be so bold, parahumans need even more help since we already know how it feels to fall without anyone there to pick us back up again." The dark creeping up in my mind, my partitions falling silent and nothingness spreading. I shudder. "If we already broke the first time, who knows what will happen if we go down again."
Kayden hums in agreement, eyes swimming in a past better left forgotten. I feel a pinch in my leg and look to see Crasberry somehow looking worried with his crab face, almost coated in distressed bubbles. I soften and grab a washcloth to clean him up and place him in Kayden's arms, knocking her out of her reminiscing.
"Go be a mother, I have dinner to make." The sound of crying draws our attention outside to see Revere has flashed a teary-eyed Aster into Theo's arms, who is clearly overwhelmed and asking the clueless weasel on his shoulder for aid.
Kayden nods, uses her sleeve to wipe away her tears, and strides out the door.
Woohoo!
We've got character development! We've got fluff! We've got a new application of magic as bullshittingly broken as it can get! I can't lie to you, this might be one of my favorite chapters to date, and the Menagerie mega whiffed in it anyway! There is a decent amount of points to burn now, so the next summon could be very good indeed.
Also, the fact that with the partitions and the mirror, Noah can get the better half of a month's time of research done every day is massive, obviously. In the chapter, he got too invested and found this little exploit by accident, as he didn't think the partitions were independent enough to enact magecraft by themselves. Lucky for him, he was given the mystical rights to that land by Gaea, so this synergy is just barely possible because magecraft is so much easier at the cabin. But with enough time...
He might just pull a win out of ass, yet!
The wind whipped by as I leaped across the rooftops. The transport below me has completely forgone the concept of stealth, with three vans full of five troopers each. Armsmaster followed close behind on a motorcycle that was much bigger than the sleek ride he was using four days ago. High above, a blur of silent lightning flew overhead.
The PRT should have gotten at least Hookwolf out of the city by now, but apparently, Dragon was preoccupied. The Birdcage transport for some poor singer was more important than the murderous Nazi. It's stuff like this that makes people lose faith in the current system.
Honestly, the fact that the PRT isn't even trying to hide the prisoner escort should really highlight just how fucked the entire department was. In every other city, prisoners mostly make it to their destination quietly and without fanfare. In Brockton Bay, the gangs have moles so entrenched that every single time they've tried to hold or transfer capes, they get freed. It's driven a pretty hefty wedge between them and the community, where success is seen as a pipe dream nowadays.
I've had Revere keep an eye on the heroes for these last few days, so I can help fend off the Nazis when they inevitably come for their comrades. I half expected the rumors circulating about the transport being today to be a red herring the PRT planted themselves, but lo and behold, I should have tempered my expectations.
As I leap across the street to follow a sudden right turn, I spare a partition to predict the Empire's attack strategy.
They have plenty of capes to throw at this, but the best scenario is that only one is needed to succeed. In my opinion, the Empire has an unhealthy obsession with tossing bodies at a problem. If Kaiser came here himself, he could easily just project some blades on the road, tear open the containment vans, and flee together on a Rune platform. But he won't. He hasn't done the smart thing and actively participated in breakouts before, and he won't be changing that now. He'll sit on his false throne and order his minions to do a more risky operation, as per usual.
If I were to plan this without including Kaiser's cowardly ass, I would say that the best idea is a Stormtiger frontline to start, gifted with an Othalla boost in either pyrokinesis or invulnerability and shred the escorts in an ambush. Without relying on the twins' size, they can do a proper surprise attack and clear the path for Krieg to handle the remaining mundane footsoldiers. Then, Stormtiger can go after the prisoner vans and shear the steel doors apart, free everyone, and again utilize the Rune Express to get out of dodge. Meanwhile, the Twins can fend off parahuman support and tank the heroes' return attacks.
As I kick off another building to follow two rapid turns, I see that the Empire is going with their tried and true "fuck it, dog pile time" strategy.
Standing in the street is every remaining E88 cape, sans, you guessed it, Kaiser. Fully in the open, with no tactics or sneak attack, just a mass of super bodies to yeet at the heroes. I feel both glad and disappointed.
Menja and Fenja start growing the moment the vans turn the corner, slamming their quickly oversized spears into the pavement. The crater of ruined asphalt stops the vans, but a lance of thunder descends upon the gaggle of Nazis with a piercing boom. This would be great if Stormtiger didn't just jettison him into a side alley immediately. Can even one person please use their heads properly in this town?
I'm pleasantly surprised to hear a familiar noise as Armsmaster's new motorcycle unfolds into a mech suit he promptly steps into and sprints at the now four-story tall pair of Uber-Bimbos. I'm glad that the scan had a positive outcome.
Over a dozen PRT troopers flood out into the street to provide support with confoam launchers. The first volley is swept aside by a massive wind claw, which allows an equal number of Crusader shades to engage them in combat... very one-sided combat.
Krieg, with arrogance on eleven, begins to casually stride toward his captured allies. The blobs of confoam slow to a halt and splatter on the ground a few meters away from him.
The most disturbingly still pair of capes in the back don't even try to help, simply standing at attention in the heart of the chaos.
One man, I assume Alabaster, is smiling and sprinting into the side alley Dauntless was launched into, and this is when I decide on a course of action.
I look at Alabaster and summon an eight-foot Lavalantula in his path, which he runs full tilt into and tackles them both into the alley out of sight. The hiss of an angry butane torch tells me he's about to be reversing time on a lot of burns and bites.
As I kick off the air, I notch a Smiteshot and summon Ariel and Triton, both in an Alpha form, in front of Krieg. I aim at Crusader and pull on my bond with Revere. The sonic boom Venom unleashes deafens the sudden pyre beside me that Revere appears in. As the armored cape is blown into the brickwork of the building behind him, I give preliminary orders.
"The Empire is staging a breakout, Whirlpool and Icy Breath on Kreig!" I let off a loud high-pitched whistle to signal the unseen magma spider to keep collateral at a minimum. "Revere, keep Night and Fog in your sight. If either one moves to join the fray, let me know."
By the time I finished giving orders, I'd reached the twins and dropkicked Menja in the helm while Armsmaster plowed through Fenja's amateur guard. As the blonde kaiju is reeling, I fire another Smite-boosted arrow into the weak point on the ornately designed spear, cracking it and parrying the reflexive swing. Using Fiber to pull myself to the ground, I escape the blast of severing wind from Stormtiger and summon Gearbreak between us.
"Gearbreak, don't let him charge his claws too much! They might be able to break your forcefield at max output!"
The mechanical cry and a grunt of pain let me focus my eyes on Menja, who tries to shish kebab me, not noticing her damaged weapon.
"The strings of Fate dance.
Stitch!"
My Fibers cling to and anchor my back leg as I put my all into a front kick. With The Jump overcharged for a split second, my kick broke the weakened weapon at the ornamental wings, sending the massive spearhead into the shattered pavement.
I reach behind me into a satchel and toss my two working Granite Guardians at Othalla, linking them with a spare partition via Fiber. As her squeak of fear reaches my ears, a wave of chilled air slams into my side, and I spare a second to see a massive Whirlpool with chunks of brutal ice containing Krieg in its eye.
A warning from Revere tells me things will be getting harder, and I leap back as Menja stomps down.
"Night and Fog, incoming!" The warning is answered by a flash of lightning blitzing out of the alleyway and vanishing into the cloud of vile pain.
Another aggravated stomp is dodged, and I grit my teeth. The sail fills with wind, and my circuits thrum as a fiery giant materializes with a flash of prana. The Wickerman punches Menja in the gut, her steel armor warping and her cry of pain echoes over the sounds of conflict. I cast a Fiber, keeping me connected with the Noble Phantasm to better guide it while leaving its controls to another partition.
I hear an explosion behind me, and the prisoner vans burst apart.
It galls me to admit, but I was so surprised that I, too, stopped to turn and look. The doors on the containment transport were blown off. The Empire capes were the first to rally, but the pause was enough to clue me in that they didn't expect it either.
The blender leaps out of his van, and the Empire capes all suddenly roar in victory. I swear under my breath. The van lifts into the air and flies over the battlefield to slam into Armsmaster's mech, plowing them both into an abandoned apartment complex. I feel another ping from Revere and launch myself into the air as Hookwolf barrels through where I just was. Turning to where he broadcasted the danger from, I see at least thirty Crusader shades charging at me.
"Ariel! Support Armsmaster! Triton, Crunch your way through those shades!" A yellow missile slams Fenja in the back, Revere following the abbreviated orders I sent through the bond. Othalla is herded by my minions further away from the battlefield. I shoot an arrow into Fog, blowing away the obscuring cloud long enough for Dauntless to land a knockout on an emotionless Night. I hear a cry of malicious euphoria from Triton as he devours and surprisingly destroys the band of shades one by one.
Menja gets knocked on her back, and I feel The Wickerman struggling to break out of my control and sacrifice its opponent in fire and brimstone. I need four partitions dedicated to reigning it in, and even then, it starts devouring more prana in response.
While falling, I shift Venom into a spear, barely blocking the steel tornado bearing down on me. Flying back, I see the Lavalantula skittering into the street with a white-haired man pierced with his burning fangs. Using a Fiber to grab a confoam sprayer off the ground, I have The Wickerman tackle Hookwolf off me long enough to coat Alabaster and unsummon the burning arachnid.
I'm suddenly sent flying, a grunt of pain escaping me as my aura protects me from the PRT van Rune just threw at me. Slamming into a concrete wall, I push off into the street, barely avoiding another van.
I hear as Revere performs another dive onto Fenja and send a short plan to him. The squeal from Rune as she's rapidly flashed into the air is familiar, as is the grunt of pain from landing flat on her ass in front of me. I feel my Guardians get destroyed bedore I give a punt into Rune's side, and Revere is suddenly covered in confoam.
As Rune rolls a couple of meters, I turn to see Victor standing over Alabaster, the hardened foam visibly dissolving. Beside him is Othalla, her hand on his shoulder and smoldering chunks of stone littered behind them. He drops the sprayer before launching a fireball into Fog. Night, lightly burned and silent, and Dauntless, smoking but conscious, are sent flying.
As The Wickerman grapples with Hookwolf, I feel my reserves of prana waning. I'll need to unsummon the Noble Phantasm sooner rather than later if I want to last in this clusterfuck. I see a limping Fenja carrying Night. Alabaster and Victor were spraying confoam onto Triton, and Armsmaster was out of mech dashing towards Crusader, who was leaning against the brickwork I launched him through initially. I feel as Cricket finally attacked, parrying her blow as I kick off the air to regroup with Dauntless.
"Reinforcements! When?!"
"Velocity and Miss Militia are injured, Oni Lee made a surprise appearance right before this! Assault and Battery were on their way, but they were on the other side of the city! They'll be another eight minutes, and Triumph should be here any -"
"RAAAAAAHHH!!!"
The wall of sound barreled into the street, cracking asphalt and rattling infrastructure. Cricket makes a mad dash through the roar, Alabaster's ears spurt blood, and Victor and Othalla are bodily thrown into an alley. As Cricket initiates Triumph alone, I feel my Prana reach dangerous levels, my circuits hot as a furnace. Unsummoning The Wickerman, I'm blindsided by the Menagerie choosing now to give a new template.
The loom is not here. The chest rattles, banging and clattering with an otherworldly glow pouring from the lock. As the noise and violent shaking reach a crescendo, the lock gives off a deafening clank. The lid flips open, and warm pink motes of light float out. A Clow Card, The Mirror, flutters into view. The accompanying power of Anchored Summoning clicks into place.
I'm brought back to Earth Bet by the flooding of my Clow magic pool, an expansion that makes my lake a sea, power settling within me. I immediately shunt the better part of that energy into my magic circuits, cooling them and mitigating the damage they were causing.
The arrival of reinforcements signifies a shift in tactic for the Empire, as the injured capes gather near a wincing and viciously glaring Rune. Othalla leans on Victor as they exit the alley, and Victor slams an empowered heel into the street, breaking it up into massive chunks that Rune swiftly floats. As they begin their getaway, Hookwolf, no longer wrestling with The Wickerman, catches me in the side.
Although my aura protected me from lasting injury, the pain translates, as I feel like my flesh is flayed and ribs minced. Agony is flaring, my head spins, and it takes eight partitions worth of focus to fight through it and kick the bastard off me. Gasping for breath, I feel beyond exhausted as my aura shatters.
I use Fibers to force myself to my feet, puppeteering my body beyond its limits to see this battle through to the end. I feel as Triton is killed, as Gearbreak is destroyed, and thank my lucky stars that it seems Ariel is still up. I pull myself out of the crater I found myself in.
Dauntless is losing ground to Hookwolf, Triumph is struggling to keep up with Cricket's speed, Armsmaster is clashing with a clearly stalling Stormtiger, and everyone else is on a floating platform. I see Krieg step out of the now dissipated hazard, battered and bruised. He marches toward the others, and I use the dregs of prana to cast a Steel-Forged on Poison and Venom.
"My will is my weapon,
My dreams are clear,
Quench!"
I pull my arm against the bowstring, fingers gushing and hardlight arrow stained in blood, and loose.
I see the arrow hit its mark, piercing my target's flank to the fletching. Hookwolf stumbles, a grinding cry of metallic pain. The hardlight arrow, as it's designed to do, fades, leaving a borehole behind. Given such a big opening, Dauntless then blasts him with his Arclance point blank. Cricket and Stormtiger disengage their opponents and catch their leader as he is sent flying out of his Changer power to reveal a pierced kidney and even worse electrical burns than before.
Armsmaster goes to continue the battle, but a blob of confoam from Victor stops that in its tracks. Dauntless slumps as his lightning visibly dims, presumably spending every bit of energy he had left. I can't even hold myself up with Fibers anymore. The villains had no further problem taking off, escaping justice once again.
I just know Othalla's healing is repairing the damage my last shot gave, while I fall face first into the ruined asphalt.
I hear the Nazis leave, jeers and taunts thrown at the worn and weary heroes. I feel a slender form rush towards me, the heat signature growing stronger as it approaches. I see black spots threatening my half-lidded gaze. I taste blood, sweat, and dirt. I feel pain in more places than I thought possible.
I decide then and there, that losing sucks.
Holy escalation, Batman!
I was honestly astonished at how evenly matched this fight was, and at its peak, there were nine summon slots active. You might notice that Random Summoning wasn't used, and I definitely didn't retcon it so that the very much so vibe killing Galapagos tortoise spawn didn't interrupt the flow of the fight. You believe me, right? Right??
Of course, it would be ridiculous not to...
*Ahem* Anyways, yeah, the Empire won.