Chapter 1348 - 7

Ifrit felt it in his blows.

In how each of his punches landed with slightly less strength behind the blow, and how each flame burned just a little cooler than the previous one. The way his body was an increasingly empty shell, strong and firm, rapidly regenerating on the outside, only by drawing and emptying out its inward.

He had managed to finally burn through the bulk of the dangerous Aetheric buildup caused by his entrance; the excess energy that had rushed into this world in his wake.

That's still going to be trouble in the long run though... Ifrit mused to himself as he turned his attention to the hole in the fabric of this world. He could feel the rest of himself, the infinite part on the other side of the veil, doing its best to plug the hole. But a plug isn't a seal, and a seal isn't as good as no hole at all... things will slip through whatever I do now.

BAH, good enough I say! The God thought with a shake of his head. We'll deal with this as it comes.

He hadn't been clean or gentle when he had punched his way through into this world; he had been in a hurry and had smashed his way in. As a result, the hole was... large. Not precisely in physical space, that was something of a human-sized tear already cauterized, no. But a large tear covered this entire city, one that would slowly let Aether trickle through despite his greater self's best efforts.

It was now inevitable.

At least I don't have to explain a sudden planetary desertification at the next meeting!

Ifrit caught Lung's claw swipe and grinned.

And I got a good scrap out of it! Should do this more often.

"Alright, Lung." His voice dropped to a surprisingly normal volume, for a giant kaiju monster, a deep, soothing rumbling that recalled fire crackling in a chimney. For those who stood close enough on the shore watching the two battling each other, the words felt like a warm balm on their soul. "I had my fun. Thanks for the spar."

Lung snarled and lunged at Ifrit's neck, jaw splitting three ways, as his claws intertwined with the God's own in a titanic test of strength.

Ifrit headbutted him.

CRACK.

With Lung disoriented for a brief second, Ifrit started to spin in place, drawing the dragon with him. He pushed the great bulk of his remaining Aether into the move even as Lung tried to claw and bite at him dazedly.

"NOW, GO!" The docks trembled as Ifrit's voice boomed once more, his form glowing with white flames.

"TAKE A SWIM!" The bay bubbled as Lung's feet left the surface, spinning quickly enough that the dragon was now nearly parallel to the water's surface.

"AND!" The two giant monsters became blurs that soon disappeared into a cloud of steam.

"COOL OFF!" Ifrit released his hold on Lung's hand, and the dragon rocketed across the water with a sonic boom, trailing steam behind himself like a missile as it shrank to a distant speck over the Atlantic.

Ifrit dusted off his hands with a grin. "And that's that."

The God briefly stared at the rapidly diminishing form of Lung over the horizon before turning back to the city and its new... ornamentations.

"I might have gone a bit overboard..." He mulled out loud, claw scratching his cheek. Beyond that, the school and his landing spot at the start of his scuffle, there were now a couple of new hills, craters, and rocks still smoking, if not on fire, dotting the city. And I'm pretty sure that I turned that boat graveyard into a hot sea spring... I ought to go there and take a bath one of those days.

On worlds more Aether-rich, there might be more immediately lasting consequences to their local formation of the landscape. But on a world so Aetherically anemic as this one, those sites would only be slightly above the norms and not much trouble for the locals.

For now.

No telling what happens once the Aether level starts to really rise...

[Brockton Bay Gain: 6 Aetheric landscape. Multiple deposits of Aetheric unatuned crystals. Aetherically charged waters. Incredibly slim chance of a random elemental to spawn]

"Hum?" Ifrit caught something in the sky, from the corner of his eyes: a small black speck rapidly growing in the otherwise blue sky. He leaned forward slightly, squinting. He was so low on Aether that this simple move in this body was almost enough to threaten to destabilize his manifestation here and there. He was basically running on fumes now. "Is that... a flying human? By Odin bloody sword, what the heck is going on in this world..."

As the speck sharpened in his vision, it resolved into a human dressed in all black with a billowing cape and streaming hair. A woman, to be precise, with rather clear intentions as she flew straight at his face with a cocked fist that meant business.

"Yeah. Nope."

Fighting this one was out of the question. He was running on fumes, and drawing more Aether would require lifting the lid on his true self, partially if not fully. Undoing all his careful work.

Despite how much Ramuh would glower that I am an uncultured brute, I only applied very careful destruction, not wanton destruction here. Not worth undoing all of that effort for nothing.

Time to make an exit.

Ifrit raised a hand to his lips and called out cheerfully:

"SORRY, LUV!"

His form began to glow as the woman breached the city's airspace, seconds away from impact. For his last moments in this warform, Ifrit struck a pose; one hand on his hip, the other raised high as white flames erupted across his obsidian flesh.

"BUT I DON'T DOUBLE DATE!"

He snapped his massive fingers, the snap echoing over the entire city.

Before the sound was drowned out by a roar as his physical shell unraveled into a pillar of flame and steam, that soon enough, raining embers and cinders across the bay like his sister's gentle snow. The woman plowed through the pillar without even stopping, clearly not expecting to hit nothing but the flames, steam, and air. Her momentum carried her forward until she hit the water with the force of an artillery shell.

Her splash was impressive.

Not as big as mine though, Ifrit thought smugly as he returned to discorporate state. And definitely not as awesome as ME!

"IFRIT!"

The pillar of flames roared his name for all to hear before fading, leaving nothing behind but drifting embers.

Giggling, Ifrit watched as the woman in black surged out of the water, evidently searching for his presence as his flames disappeared from view. Soon she was joined by other flying humans, all fruitlessly scanning the bay for his presence.

Alright, enough laughing at the locals.

Shaking his head, Ifrit cast his awareness outward, first toward his prospective little contractee. Still unconscious, tucked into a bed within what seemed to be a hospital. Or the local equivalent. Ifrit didn't really know much about this world yet.

Seems like Queeny did take care of the squirt.

Said Shard was standing by the bed, staring unblinkingly at the girl as if she didn't know what else to do. Which she probably didn't, after all, the Shard didn't have a human body even an hour ago! Though the way she craned her neck like an owl toward his discorporated presence made Ifrit raise a metaphorical eyebrow.

Huh. She can still feel my presence. Curious and impressive.

["How's the new body, Queeny?"] He asked mirthfully about the Shard bandwidth.

The absolutely delicious expression of outrage that crossed Queeny's face was worth it.

[BODY_IS_INSUFFERABLE! DESIGNATION_QUEEN_ADMINISTRATOR! INSULT! IN_HUMAN! IN_XCKEARE! IN_TEROMIAN!]

Ifrit stared at Queeny.

Queeny kept hurling dictionaries of insults his way.

He exploded into peals of laughter. Across the city, a few thousand gaslights jumped and flickered in sync with his mirth, to the general confusion of the locals. Meanwhile, the Shard kept throwing everything, including the kitchen sink, his way.

["Come on, it's not so bad having a body! How's your kid?"]

Queeny turned her nose up imperiously, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair beside the unconscious girl's bed.

["You know, if you looked a little more imperious when you do that, my sister would strangle me if I didn't introduce you two."]

The sheer horror struck the Shard's face as he mentioned his sister was more than worth it.

[SISTER?!]

["Yeah, she can be such a cold, insufferable bitch. But well, she's still my twin."] Ifrit sighed dramatically. ["And she's very good at what she does. But I'll fry you if you repeat that to her; no sense in inflating her massive ego."]

+*+*+*+*+

Somewhere else:

Two women, or beings that wore the shape of women, shared a cup of aquamarine tea in their local manifestations. Both were so beautiful that the greatest mortal artists would gladly slit their own throats if they could capture even one of them in a single masterpiece.

The first resembled Earth Bet's Simurgh from a distance, but that was where the similarity ended. Her flesh was supple, rosy, and inviting, not cold and marble-like. Her wings were perfectly symmetrical. The smaller ones tastefully covered her chest and hips, while a pair of large wings sprouted from her head, their feathers shifting from yellow to gold with hints of blue if not purple at their tips.

"Are you alright, Shiva?" Siren, Primordial Goddess of the Arts, asked. Her wings fluttered slightly as she looked upon her old friend with concern.

The second goddess was no less beautiful, with snow-white skin and long silvery hair crowned with ice. An appearance that might, at a closer look, put her closer to the Simurgh if not for the fact that she wore clothes of icy blue, and the expression she wore was far more humane. Here, in the privacy of her sanctum on this world, she wore a simple robe that complemented her feminine figure.

Shiva sighed heavily. "It's nothing... Just my brother being a moron." The primordial Goddess of Ice waved a hand dismissively. "Somewhere."

Siren chuckled, hiding her mirth behind a delicate hand. The gesture made Shiva roll her eyes.

"Your brother is always up to no good, isn't he?"

Shiva huffed. "For all his idiocy, my brother IS competent. When you can clobber his massive ego into doing his job."

Twins... Siren smiled as she watched Shiva rant about her brother. So remarkably similar.

+*+*+*+*+

Back in Brockton Bay:

["Anyway, the kid?"]

Queen Administrator shook her head before looking down at the unconscious girl and taking her hand delicately. The gesture was surprisingly tender for an omnicidal crystalline computer.

[Safe. Healed. Only_rest.] The Shard turned her head back toward his presence. [Mine_Gratitude]

["Bah."] Ifrit dismissed the Shard thanks, and he would fry anyone for saying he felt any kind of embarrassment at being thanked so sincerely. Primordials certainly didn't! ["Just what any Primordial would do!"]

Quiet footstep on the fabric of reality.

Shuffle, shuffle.

["Huh... maybe not everyone."] Ifrit amended, not willing to draw Tomb's attention just yet. Lil' guy's fine and all, but let's not scare everyone shitless yet... ["Anyway, since she's safe for now. I'm going to take a quick peek around."]

[Where?]

And that was what the second thing he sought as he cast his awareness across this planet.

["Old place of power."] He replied distractedly, searching for it. He could feel it, nearly dead, but compared to the rest of this anemic world, it might as well be a bonfire in the middle of a flat plain. He just needed to get close enough.

[Power?] The Shard asked, curiosity coloring her every feature.

["There's more to Creation than are dreamt in your philosophy, young padawan."] He replied with a voice full of wisdom. He would have scratched his chin, too, if he could, but he was currently discorporated.

He didn't last five seconds before chuckling at the little Queen's deadpan stare.

["But yeah, to answer your question briefly: living planets have... wells, let's say. Places where Aether occurs naturally, often attuned to a specific Primordial."]

Queeny's eyes widened, her back straightening as her jaw hung open at his words. [Never_Discovered. Surprise.]

["I'm not. Your World, meaning your local cluster of the Multiverse, is utterly anemic. I'm genuinely impressed the only life here isn't microbes sucking on dead rocks."]

[WORLDS?!] Queen Administrator screeched, jumping out of her chair, sending the poor thing crashing to the floor.

Before he could answer, he suddenly felt the well enter his awareness, far away across the ocean bordering this city. Many flames had danced with joy at his passing awareness along the way.

["Sorry, we'll talk more later. Just reached the well. Toodles!"]

[NEGATION! ANSWERS!] Queeny yelled after him, her voice growing distant as he rushed across the ocean toward his tendril of self above the well.

+*+*+*+*+

A cavern somewhere in the Zagros Mountains, Iran:

Huh, that's...

Ifrit's discorporated presence thought as it reached the well, or at least, came as close to it as it could. His presence was rebuffed by something, and his flames couldn't get any closer; his essence slid off, smothered by an oozy presence that smothered the natural well of Aether in its crib.

Mildly concerning.

Ifrit admitted to himself as he felt a second stronger attempt being rebuffed handily by this... ooze.

Alright then, if I can't poke it like this. Let's try this the old-fashioned way.

Ifrit pulled himself together on the last dregs of Aether, condensing his scattered presence into a single point for a new physical shell. He couldn't manage any warforms, not enough juice for even a second, but he could still pull off something human-sized.

Probably.

Maybe.

No thumbs dwadling, let's do it!

The air in the cavern shimmered as embers and cinders danced around a growing flame. The whole mess coalesced into a small cloud that grew denser and denser. A pair of legs emerged, then arms, long, elegant horns, and a magnificent mane of fiery, flickering hair sitting atop deeply brown fur.

There we go. Ifrit thought smugly.

Right as the Aether holding the small figure aloft sputtered out, spent.

Leaving Ifrit, the Primordial lord of Fire and Passion, suspended in the air for one brief moment.

"Oh, for fu!"

Thump.

Ifrit face-planted onto the cold, humid stone of the cavern. His soft body bouncing a few times before rolling to a stop against a stalagmite in a heap of limbs, .

Silence.

Then a long, suffering groan.

Ifrit sat up on his haunches and stared down at himself. Tiny hooved feet. Plush body covered in soft brown fur. Small claws that looked suitably child-friendly. And had a tail.

A fluffy tail.

He closed his eyes. Took a long, deep breath.

Then squeezed himself experimentally.

Pffft.

His body compressed like a stuffed toy, then slowly re-inflated.

"Oh, come fucking on!" The voice that emerged was absurdly deep and resonant for his two-foot-tall body, almost as if a five-year-old had suddenly adopted Darth Vader's voice. "This is what I get with the dregs?! AGAIN?!"

He looked down at his stubby little legs, then at his hooves.

"I look like a collectible plushie!" He waved his tiny arms in outrage. "Creation be fucking damned, Shiva better NEVER learn of this! I already have enough blackmail hanging around my head from the last time!"

Ifrit twisted on himself to get a look at his backside, nearly toppling over in the process.

"I have a rabbit tail! I'm not a viera!"

His tail bounced cheerfully at his every move, as if saying he protested too much.

Ifrit, Primordial lord of Fire and Passion, who was there at the start of EVERYTHING, buried his face into his tiny soft paws and let out a muffled, long-suffering scream.

It sounded adorable.

After a moment of wallowing in his own misery, he shook his head, took a deep breath, and waddled forward and deeper into the cavern on his small, stubby legs with as much dignity as a two-feet-tall living plushy could muster.

"Fine. Fine. We're doing this."

At least he could now get closer to the ooze and inspect it with his actual physical eyes. Ifrit could feel the air growing heavier with each of his steps; it was both a physical weight pressing on his body and a psychic, soul-deep pressure.

Mortals wouldn't even think to go this deep, Ifrit thought with a frown, they might not even be able to discern the cavern at all...

And for sure, there was nothing alive with him down there, not even the smallest of insects or microbes. Nothing but cold, dead stone and this oppressive, oozy feel permeating everything. The pressure even started to really affect his physical shell, but he carried on, as each stubby step became a little harder than the last.

"Come on... You ridiculous... noodle legs..." he wheezed, forcing himself forward.

Until the cavern suddenly opened up ahead of him.

Ifrit pushed through to the threshold and stopped, blinking as he stared ahead.

An ancient temple emerged from the darkness, carved directly into the rock. Weathered pillars flanked alcoves filled with statues and entrances into other rooms. The floor beneath his hooves turned from rough stone to perfectly flat slabs. Or at least, it should have, as that's what he could make out beneath the astral ice under his feet.

Wherever Ifrit's eyes went, he could see nothing but glowing astral ice covering every surface, sometimes so thick he couldn't see underneath, sometimes clear enough that it was almost see-through.

And across all this ice, like black pulsing veins, something dark and foul oozed.

The whole place now positively reeks of this repulsive presence.

And deeper within the complex, Ifrit could feel the well. Faintly and slowly strangled to death.

"Well," Ifrit squeaked. "Now that's definitely very concerning..."

He looked down at his two-foot plush body, then back at the temple.

"Perfect. Just perfect."

With a despondent shake of his head, the significantly reduced primordial god took a look around. The weathered statues in their distant alcoves drew his wary gaze, their features worn smooth by time or covered in sheets of Astral Ice. Columns wreathed in the stuff stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. Dark entrances yawned in every direction, swallowing what little light reached them.

For a brief instant, he was seized by the desire to draw some Fire attuned Aether to himself.

A little spark couldn't hurt...

His eyes fell on the tendrils of black ooze that grew and spread in patches, like malignant vines pulsing a repulsive, black oozy light. It turned the air, ice, and stone near it into a sickly, desaturated color, and while it had no particular odor to his aetheric sense, it felt wrong.

"Yeah, let's not." He whispered to himself, dismissing his early thought with a worried frown and a shake of his hand.

His paw-pads flexed against the ice underfoot as he considered turning around for a brief heartbeat. Walking back through the tunnel and leaving this place until he had regained some strength and knowledge about this new World.

Ifrit's ears twitched, and a wry grin appeared on his face, the corner of his lips tugging upward as he let himself be bitten by his own curiosity.

"Come on, Ifrit! Just a quick look!" Curiosity had, after all, always been one of his many weaknesses. I'd say I'm fortunate to have it! Existence wouldn't even be half as fun without some excitement! "And Sis always grumbles about it; that old nagger." He finished with a chuckle.

But where to start? His eyes drifted to the central formation rising like a jagged crown, all tangled pillars, cubes, and stalagmites.

Might as well start there, he thought with a shrug after shooting a quick glance toward the nearest carved alcove, which made him grimace. Don't fancy a stroll near those statues...

Decision made, Ifrit padded forward and onto the ice. Near instantly, steam hissed up from beneath his paws, curling in thin wisps around his feet and legs.

Glancing at his feet, the god shrugged. Well, at least now I'm sure this is an aetheric construct and not just some ice frozen in time.

His body wasn't hot enough to melt normal ice on contact. But aetheric-charged ice? Directly touching the Primordial of Fire?

That ought to do it. Nodding to himself, Ifrit forged on, the ice sizzling briefly beneath each footstep. Though that didn't stop him from mulling over the question that easily came to the forefront of his mind. There's too much Aether here compared to the rest of this World... Well, I do tend to have a higher aetheric ambient air, thanks to being, well... Ifrit chuckled to himself, Wells. But this is just utterly ridiculous. And at that...

The god took one long look around with his aetheric sense as he strolled toward the center of the large cavern. Frown deepening.

This reeks of an aetheric manipulation, but that shouldn't be possible on a World this starved for it in the first place...

The temple floor was covered in a layer of Astral Ice that had started out rather thin and translucent near the edges, allowing him to see the stone slabs beneath. But the deeper into the cavern he ventured, the thicker it became. What had been a pretty, see-through sheet was rapidly turning into slabs thicker than his closed fist, and kept on growing thicker. As a result, the floor sloped upward toward the center.

Until suddenly, Ifrit's feet punched straight through the ice, his entire lower body promptly falling through the melting, smoking hole. His upper body face-planting into the ice plunged him into a brief but annoyingly fluffy steam cloud that obscured everything.

"Creation, fucking darn it!" The primordial god grunted, wrenching his leg out of the hole, and managing to extricate himself out of the hole while still in a cloud of steam.

Thank fuck this was an aetheric construct. Ifrit thought as he shook himself, dusting his knees. Aetheric Ice doesn't melt into water, but back into Aether, as such... I'm still dry at least.

Though he vowed never to speak to anyone about the imprint of his own face, he was leaving behind in the ice.

Looking back at the hole with an annoyed frown. Now, why did you break like that?

Ifrit cast his senses to get a closer look at the Aether within the Ice.

And beyond the fact that there was so much Aether present, it would almost certainly make any locals either die or mutate into some kind of monster through sheer overload. The Aether itself was rather...

Plain. There's nothing wrong or weird about it. Just the sheer quantity of it is quite surprising. Ifrit mused, scratching his chin. Now I can think about a reason or two to use Astral Ice in a Fire attuned Aetheric well, and none of them are exactly good... But if this was some sort of seal, it should have degraded over time, not look anywhere this good.

The god cast a thoughtful glance toward the pillar piercing the center of the cavern; he was only about half a dozen meters away now. Ice blocks jutted at chaotic angles, some as wide as doorways, others as thin as spears. Stalagmites of pure Astral Ice reached toward the vaulted ceiling, their surfaces catching what little light existed and refracting it into pale, sickly rainbows. All formed a spiky crown around a central pillar that reached the cavern's ceiling.

Even with Astral being naturally perpetual and orderly, in such a poor aetheric World this construct should have failed a long, long time ago.

Pushed by his own curiosity, Ifrit made his way through the forest of spiky ice, carefully maneuvering his plushy body to avoid damaging his current shell. It took a couple of minutes of delicate movement before he finally reached the base of the central pillar. And as he gazed onto it with his aetheric sense, the only words that left his lips were a quiet string of curses.

"Okay... What the actual fuck is this thing..."

Through the Astral Ice, he senses more of that ooze, so, so much more, held back inside the pillar's core.

It writhed and squirmed like a nest of bloated worms, so densely packed into itself that if the pillar should break, it could easily flood the entire cavern with the stuff. So much that he could almost see the writhing black mass with his naked eyes through the Ice.

Almost.

Ifrit leaned closer, his aetheric senses digging deeper into the pillar. And the instant they touched that concentrated ooze, he recoiled in surprise.

The bloody thing just tried to gnaw at me! He snarled, puff of smoke escaping his maw through clenched teeth. That's some fucking kind of budding Mist! This is bad. This is real fucking bad!

"Who the fuck was insane enough to make a seal with Void in a bottle? This thing unmake reality by Rogntudju bloody fucking feet in a handbasket! You don't make SEALS out of the fucking stuff!!" Ifrit took a long, calming breath, not without adding a couple of swear words, before trying to understand what he was actually looking at. I'm dog shit at seals, that's more Ramuh thundersthick than mine, but I'm not a complete incult.

And finally, after a few long minutes peering into the pillar and the oozer with more scrutiny, he whistled.

"Alright. I don't know who the fuck you are, and how the fuck you did it. But this is some kind of genius level of fuck you." Ifrit's mind raced. If this seal breaks as it is, Doom won't ever get fast enough to catch all the souls of the dead of this plan...

Ifrit's ears twitched, his eyes snapped up.

And threw himself to the side as he narrowly avoided being impaled by a spear that plunged toward him from above. He hit the ground rolling, his plushy body bouncing once against the ground, and once more against a jutting block before his paws found some purchase in the ground.

Above him, standing on a pillar, one of the statues looked down on him; its right side was covered in ice, while black ooze pulsed malevolently in its eyes. And as Ifrit watched the statue in turn, one, then two, then three, then half a dozen more joined their first brethren. Black ooze seeped from their empty sockets, dripping down carved faces like oily tears. More ooze leaked from between stone fingers wrapped around spears, swords, and axes that gleamed with the same sickly light.

"Golems," Ifrit swore under his breath. Fucking things waited till I was distracted to move in for the kill.

Instinctively, Ifrit started to draw Aether to him, before abruptly cutting himself off. I can't do that here! It's too dangerous! I could set off something!

One of the golems took a step forward, his large double-headed axe scraping against the ice loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, ham it up now that you know I'm here." Ifrit snarled before taking the wise decision of spinning on his heel and bolting through a hole in the wall of blocks and pillars.

His plushy legs pumped furiously as he charged back the way he'd come, steam exploding beneath his paws with each frantic step. Behind him, the golem abandoned any kind of stealth and loudly charged after him, their stone feet slamming against the ice as they gave chase. He bounced over a ridge of ice, tumbled, and rolled back to his feet without stopping. A spear whistled past his ear, so close he felt the displaced air flutter his ear and the blade touch his fur.

"Why the fucking fuck did I want to take a look at my weakest fucking form!" Ifrit yelled as he ducked behind another Ice block, narrowly avoiding a thrown axe, as he navigated the maze made by the central Astral Ice formation.

Only his well-honed battle instinct that felt the hammer strike before he could actually see it, let him roll under the hit, thanking his small-sized body for being able to roll between the golem's legs and burst into a dead sprint the moment his paws touched solid ground again.

The hammer crashed into the ice where he'd been standing, sending shards exploding outward in a deadly spray, while the grinding of way too many stone feet on ice kept growing in number around him. Ifrit ran, bursting out of the maze like a missile, ducking under a sword strike as he pushed his plushy legs as fast as they could carry him.

"FUCKING TINY FUCKING LEGS MOVE!" He roared as the entrance loomed ahead, a dozen golems powerwalking toward it to cut him off. Thankfully, the golems had originally been moving toward the center and only tried to cut him off after he had managed to escape the initial ambush.

And they might tank attacks and dish it out in kind... Ifrit snarled as he sprinted past the golem, who took a swing or threw their weapons at him. Until he suddenly burst out of the nearly complete encirclement, blitzing past the last two golems, cleared the threshold of the cavern in a tumble of limbs, rolling head over tail three times before slamming into a wall with a victorious grin. But they are fucking slower than molasses.

And now that he was out of the cavern, and out of its worst impending effect. Ifrit flipped the small army of golems walking toward him, the bird, before his body winked away.

Dematerializing, Ifrit rushed his essence back toward the coastal town, which he still didn't know the name of, while contemplating what he had just found out.

Void corrupted Mist used in a seal. A seal using the exact opposite element clogging an aetheric well. A world drying up on Aether. Something really funky is going on here... And with my currently diminished and weakened presence...

"Looks like I'm going to need some boots on the ground for this one," Ifrit said to himself, thinking back about the girl and her guardian as he approached the town.

+*+*+*+*+

To say the day was strange for Queen Administrator would be an understatement.

She had just, finally, been about to connect with her chosen Best_Host! When suddenly she found herself face to face with the self-styled embodiment of fire. Said embodiment of fire literally punched its way through the dimensional barrier, dragging her along before dumping her inside this fleshy, small human body.

The memory of stumbling through Brockton Bay on unfamiliar limbs made something in her new body twitch. The eyebrows, according to the host species.

And their legs! Their legs were so absurdly difficult to use without falling over! Of course, she was a Noble, so she hadn't. It would have been unbecoming. But she had almost damaged her Best_Host before finding her way to this local building of healing, and that was nearly unforgivable!

Though it was readily excused in her mind by the sheer fact of holding her dear Host in her arms.

[Pleasant_Feeling. Warmth.]

The mere thought tugged at her lips in a strange upward curve as she observed her sleeping Host. The god had said she would be fine, and for that, Queen was grateful at least. Absentmindedly, she tucked some of her Best_Host's hair away from her eyes, something she was strangely elated to discover she now had in common with Taylor! A luxurious mane of wavy dark hair!

Though the growing pain in her middle was decidedly annoying...

Before she could do anything about it, however, she felt the presence of the god rapidly approach and turned to face a currently empty corner of the room. Only to... frown as a two-foot-tall animal-like plushie started to appear out of thin air.

[Query?] She sent as the figure began materializing.

A good meter above the ground.

"Fuck." Ifrit's voice came out as a squeak a fraction of a second before gravity remembered he existed.

His plushy body dropped like a stone and hit the linoleum with a soft thump, bouncing once before settling into an undignified heap. Again, not that she knew that.

Queen Administrator raised an eyebrow, her spine straightening in the chair set by Best_Host bedding, hands folded on her lap. She quite liked the way her new body moved when she did so. In the way her facial muscles tensed slightly, in the controlled intake of oxygen.

It was pleasant.

Dignified. Yes, it was dignified.

As was expected of a Noble Shard.

Unlike the god currently sprawled face-down on the sterile floor, haunches pointed skyward.

Feeling something bubbling in her chest, Queen Administrator spoke using her new body voice.

"Magnificent. Entrance." The words came out lighter than she'd intended, almost... what was the word... amused? Her lips tugged upward at the corners without her permission as she watched the primordial fire deity struggle to right himself, a long, creative litany of swear words rumbling from his plushy form.

Ifrit finally managed to flip over, shooting her an annoyed glare while his fur stuck up at odd angles, as he dusted himself off, righting one ear that had bent backward.

"Oh, thank you for my new body, Ifrit!" He pitched his voice higher in obvious mockery as he sat on his haunch. The god who had dwarfed her entire existence was now reduced to a soft, plush-looking rendition of a brown goat with black horns and fiery mane. It put a strange desire in her to squeeze him to her chest. "Oh my, thank you, Queen Administrator! It's not like I used it to expend a lot of Aether to avoid blowing up your planet at all!"

Queen Administrator's eyebrow climbed higher. Her facial muscles seemed to have a mind of their own as they expressed what she labeled as "amusement." Though no matter how terrifying and irritating she found the god, he was right in a sense.

He had given her a body with which to fully partake in her Best_Host life.

"Gratitude_Acknowledged." She replied thusly, bowing slightly at the waist. Though she didn't know why, it had felt appropriate. "Fall_Remained_Entertaining."

Ifrit's glare intensified, a low growl building in his throat that sounded more petulant than threatening in his current form. "Yup, never introducing her to Sis... I'll never fucking live it down." Shaking his head, Ifrit hopped to his feet. "Anyway, we got..."

Whatever he was going to say died instantly as a soft, tired voice drew Queen Administrator's attention back to the bed.

"Mom?"

Best_Host's bleary eyes stared at her, slightly unfocused as she emerged from unconsciousness. Her dark curls splayed across the pillow, one hand moving sluggishly to rub at her face.

An amused snort came from Ifrit's direction. "Welp, you're on your own for this one."

Queen Administrator's head snapped toward the god, with a thunderous glare. Ifrit raised both paws in mock surrender, his expression far too pleased with himself.

"Don't look at me like that. You're the one whose subconscious wanted to look like that." He shrugged lazily. "I just gave the Aether the right push to form you a body; you did the rest on your own."

Queen Administrator's body tensed, unfamiliar muscles going rigid, brow furrowing as unfamiliar heat rose in her cheeks. It was an uncomfortable sensation.

She did NOT like it.

With more urgency and force than she wanted, she growled back at the god, "Protest. Inaccurate_Assessment. Did_Not_Request..."

"Mom, is at you?" Taylor's voice was stronger now, confusion bleeding into it as she tried to push herself up on one elbow, but was too exhausted to do more than shuffle in her bed. Rolling onto her side and closer to Queen Administrator.

Who certainly was NOT panicking inside as Best_Host hands sleepily sought her own.

[Require_Assistance. Urgent.] She hissed back at the god, who had the gall to grin and laugh at her.

"Nope," He shot back as he settled onto his haunches, arms crossed. "Deal with it yourself. That's part of the fun!"

+*+*+*+*+

Ifrit had a hard time containing his chuckles as he watched Queeny interact with the kid.

Seems like there's a lot of pent-up things in her nogging if she took the kid form. He thought with a wry grin, before he sobered up quickly as he recalled his earlier discoveries and worries.

Queen Administrator, embarrassing heat venting through her newfound cheeks, fired one last dark look at the god. Ifrit looked back at her with an amused grin, arms crossed in front of him as he sat on his haunches, clearly enjoying every second of her discomfort.

[Incredibly_UNHELPFUL!]

The god unhelpfully chuckled back.

"I was plenty helpful, but go on now." He urged her forward with a nod of his head. "Kid's waiting."

"What? What's goin' on? Someone's here?" Best_Host mumbled as the Noble Shard looked back at her, hands clutched together near her core.

Fragile. She couldn't help but think as her new sensory organelles took her in. She... If... If the god was right, she had chosen this appearance. Closer to Best_Host. Logical...

But...

But she wasn't Best_Host progenitor. Not like she wanted to or anything!

The bones in her left hand were grinding against each other as her right hand clutched it well past the point of discomfort. She simply wanted to be close to her, even more so now that her process... that her mind was assaulted by all those new sensations thanks to her new body. And as she stared into Taylor's eyes... into her large, soulful eyes clouded with confusion and an almost desperate hope, a hand weakly grasping toward her even as she slowly started to come around.

"Mom?" Best_Host asked, frowning at her continued silence and hesitation.

Queen Administrator knew that soon, her mind would be clear enough to spot the differences. The wrongness. And with it, she would panic. Hyperventilate. Even as her mind would be assaulted with memories of her original crisis point.

Cascading effect. New_Crisis_point. She thought. Deepening our bond. Good thing...

And yet her chest twisted painfully at something that would have enthused her not even a single planetary rotation earlier.

Queen Administrator closed her eyes with a demure sigh as she came to a simple conclusion.

She didn't want to hurt her Best_Host.

Not when she was so... so close.

With a heavy sigh, pinching her glasses between dainty fingers, she removed the tinted glasses before staring back at her Best_Host. She could see the swirling stars reflected in her eyes. It was... a strangely captivating view. An experience obviously shared by her Best_Host as she stared open-mouthed in obvious awe at her glorious gaze.

Queen Administrator puffed her chest, head held high.

"Wha..."

"Not. Your. Progenitor." Queen articulated as well as she could in the downright barbarian communication language of her Best_Host, hands delicately entwined over her midriff.

The young Host in her bed looked back at her uneasily before asking.

"Wait, who are you? Where am I? Where's dad!"

Queen was... mildly taken aback by the growing anger that rapidly replaced the fear in her Best_Host voice. She felt a pleasant warmth spread through her chest as she watched her Best_Host put up such a brave front, glowering at her.

Delightful! Her lips tugging upward, she had to resist the sudden urge to squeeze her Best_Host cheeks. She was still a Noble_Shard; it would be unseemly to act so... plebeian.

"Be calm. I am: Queen_Administrator. You are: Hospital." She answered smoothly, dumbing her words down as much as she was currently able.

"Quee...? Hospital? What happened? Where's dad!" Best_Host asked again, making Queen wave her hand dismissively.

"Failed_Host, Status: Irrelevant."

"Ouch. Not pulling your punch, eh?" Ifrit whispered, with an amused roll of his eyes, and still sitting on his haunches. Queen sent him a withering gaze as she felt something throb rhythmically against her skin. That was something she could easily identify as it arkened back to many times in her time as a Noble_Shard.

Annoyance.

And as such, she defaulted to her usual response whenever the younger shard had pocked too many holes in her plans. Repeat herself louder.

By blasting her communication across all channels. Including just straight-up yelling with her new mouth.

["Failed_Host, Status: Irrelevant!"]

And regretted it almost instantly as Best_Host winced painfully, leaning back and away in surprise, holding a hand to her head. Queen took a sharp breath, the blood pumping organ in her chest seizing up at the scene.

"Apologetic! Pain_not_intended..."

+*+*+*+*+

Somewhere else in the hospital, Noble_Shaper's Host twitched in the middle of a hallway, before looking around with a frown.

"Did someone just...?"

"Something wrong?" The orderly asked, noticing the healer no longer following her.

Panacea shook her head, "No... It's nothing."

The orderly shrugged and resumed her walk, followed by Panacea.

+*+*+*+*+

Queen's hands hovered uselessly toward Taylor's head before pulling back while her teeth sank into her lip. Fingers twitching with sudden uncertainty.

"Do... Best_Host... Require_assistance?" Her voice cracked slightly despite her efforts to maintain her cool facade, and she obviously failed. "Medical_intervention? Water_hydration? Darkness?"

It was one thing to have her Best_Host unconscious in her arms, and Queen was rapidly discovering that it was a completely different thing to have to watch Taylor's face contort in pain in front of her eyes.

It wasn't a good feeling.

"What was that?!" Taylor winced as she leaned away from Queen, still holding her head, confusion mixing with pain and some fear on her face.

Queen squirmed in place, mulishly looking down at her new hands wringing incessantly.

"Shouted_loudly. Sorry."

"You shouted?!" Her Best_Host snarled back, before wincing in pain, massaging her forehead. "Felt like someone drove a spike through my skull!"

"Brain_Damaging_Torture?!" Queen gasped in horror, a strange instinct making her hands shoot to her mouth as her heart twisted in her chest. "Never!"

Ifrit, for his part, took one look at the humanized shard and facepalmed. "It's a human expression." He said with a sigh, "You'd better get used to those, Queeny."

Taylor observed the exchange, a hand still massaging her forehead, with a bewildered expression.

"So... you're a cape? And you dragged me to the hospital?"

At her Best_Host inquiry, Queen drew herself back, straightening in her seat as she laid a hand over her heart, lips tugged upward.

"Designation: Queen_Administrator!" She proudly declared, before pointing an imperious finger at Taylor. "Warrior_Noble_Shard! I_chose_you_Best_Host."

Taylor watched Queen, blinking owlishly for a few seconds.

"What the fuck?" She deadpanned.

"What Queeny is trying to say." A soft thump drew Queen and Best_Host's attention to the foot of the bed, and Queen couldn't stop herself from crossing her arms defensively in front of her.

"Was_Fine." She grumbled with a frown as the god proceeded to utterly ignore her as he sat on his haunches, making himself comfortable on the bed.

"Is that she's the thing that was supposed to give you power."

There was a long beat of silence as Taylor stared wide-eyed at the diminutive god sitting on her bed.

"Talking plushy?" She faintly whispered, making the god groan as he facepalmed.

"Creation fucking darnit," Ifrit swore, then waved a finger in Best_Host's direction. "Listen here. I am Ifrit, Lord of Fire and Passion! Not just some bullshit magical girl mascot talking plushie! Got it?"

Her Best_Host nodded, staring in complete bewilderment, which made something bubble in her throat. Something light and airy that wanted to burst out of her lips. Queen, out of curiosity, let it, and found herself suddenly hiccuping sharply.

No. Giggling, she was giggling.

It felt nice, and she felt herself a little lighter as she watched the god shoot her an annoyed glance.

[Serve_Right!]

"Yes, yes, laugh it off." The god grumbled.

"Lord who?" Best_Host asked with a frown, her hands balled into fists as she grabbed the edge of the bedding.

Ifrit sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Ifrit, kid. My name's Ifrit. I am a god. I heard your plea for help, and since I was in the vicinity, I decided to lend you a hand." Queen glared at Ifrit with a huff as he waved in her direction. "And miss 'I got unresolved issue' here was supposed to gift you some kind of power for you to use before I intervened."

+*+*+*+*+

Taylor stared at the talking plushy as it spouted nonsense, her brain bluescreening as it tried to parse what she had just heard. Shooting a blank look at the woman masquerading as her mother, who was apparently some kind of power-gifting Trump or something, as she sat there with a scowl on her face, glowering at the plushy. A woman who had apparently dragged her to the hospital after something happened?

"Okay. Stop." Taylor shook her head, closing her eyes as she tried to remember. "I'm in a hospital?"

The talking plushy had stuck a small plush finger into his ear and wiggled it with a pained expression. "Looks like it," he offered unhelpfully.

"What do you mean, looks like it? I'm in a hospital or not!

"You_are." The woman replied with a regal nod, and Taylor tried to avoid looking into her starlight eyes.

"Wasn't here." The plushy shrugged before falling sideways on her bed, lazily lounging on it with a yawn. Taylor gulped as she noticed the many sharp teeth in its mouth, and she really didn't want to find out if those were as soft as the rest of the cape's body was looking. "Queeny did all the work on that. I was a bit too busy making a distraction to cover her exit."

The woman puffed her chest, a hand daintily raising to her lips to hide the self-satisfied smirk that appeared there. "Foregone_Conclusion."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Ifrit replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Dare?!" The woman shot back, almost spitting the words as she pressed both hands against her heart, her glasses nearly slipping from her nose. "No_Lesser_Shard! Noble!"

"Yes. Yes. I know that."

"Designation: Queen_Administrator. Not_Majesty!"

"Creation, darn it, Queeny... I was just joking."

"What_is_Joking?!" Queen's hands flew to her mouth, her expression cycling rapidly between what Taylor could only describe as existential dread and complete absolute incomprehension. "Fraudulent_data_spread?!"

Ifrit opened his mouth to answer before sighing and mumbling something under his breath that she didn't quite catch, his ears flattening with what Taylor felt was exasperation.

It was such a stupid and utterly ridiculous scene that she found herself smiling hesitantly before she'd even decided to.

"Distraction?" The word drifted back to the surface of her mind before she could help it, her eyes trailing back toward the plushy, narrowing slightly. "What distraction? From what?"

The two capes exchanged a long look before the plushy eventually shook his head.

"Alright." He started, before staring into Taylor's eyes. "What do you remember exactly?"

She frowned. What do I remem...

It came back in fragments with no particular order. Making breakfast. Walking down the school hallways to her locker. Getting up. Avoiding Julia at the entrance. Jumping in her jeans. Saying goodbye to her father. Taking a shower. Opening the door to her locker.

The smell.

Oh God, the smell!

Taylor heaved, her stomach curdling without warning, as she felt bile rise at the back of her throat.

A small plastic bin materialized in front of her face, and Taylor immediately and desperately grasped it as she dry-heaved over it, having long since emptied her stomach in the locker. Somehow, it was worse, as she felt nothing but the acidic taste of her own bile flooding her mouth.

A hand heavily landed in the middle of her back, making Taylor jerk forward, head almost smashing into the bin. And she was too busy dry-heaving to do anything about it, her indignant shout of 'what the fuck are you doing' lost in between two bouts of bile. Before the hand smashed into her back again. And again. Like a metronome.

She distantly heard the smack of a hand against a forehead somewhere near her knee. "Don't try to cave her ribs in when you just want to pat your human, Queeny! Softer!"

"Very_Well. Adjusting_Force." Queen replied, and suddenly the heavy slap felt more like light taps.

What the fuck is my life... Taylor thought, tears in her eyes, the most awkward pat on her back, bile in her mouth, head over a plastic hospital bin, and a talking plushy at her feet. Why, Emma... What the fuck did I ever do to you?!

The wail that ripped itself out of her chest wasn't planned or pretty. It wasn't dignified, it was primal. Her face was crumpling on itself as tears ran down like a waterfall, snot running down her nose. It was ugly, loud, and she couldn't stop once it started.

She couldn't have even if she'd wanted to.

She was still hunched over the bin, shoulders shaking as her lips tasted of gastric bile and snot. The awkward tap on her back had at some point transitioned into a very awkward wooden half-hug from the woman sitting by her side. Just for a few moments, Taylor allowed herself to forget this wasn't her mother and simply cried into the woman's chest.

"Yeah..." Ifrit rumbled softly, "That's about what I expected..."

Ever so slowly, a gentle warmth started to creep up her legs, like she was sitting by a campfire or out in the sun on the hottest of summer days. It spread through her body until she felt like a thick, warm blanket had been wrapped around her. Through her tears, she caught a glimpse of the plushy cape laying a clawed hand on her leg, his head staring back at her with kindness.

He didn't say anything, and with a grumble, looked away and out the window.

Eventually, she had no more tears to shed and just leaned against the woman, listening to the woman's heartbeat. Steady and present, but sitting just slightly too close to the center of her chest to be quite right.

Taylor didn't comment on it.

"Sorry..." Taylor whispered as she dragged the back of her hand across her eyes in an effort to erase her last tears.

"Bah!" Ifrit rumbled as he waved a hand dismissively, "think nothing of it! You haven't had the best life recently, and everyone can afford to shed some tears every once in a while. If it can reassure you, you won't have to go back to that place ever again." He finished, crossing his arms, muzzle smugly raised in the air.

Taylor frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Ifrit_Blew-up_Building." The woman deadpanned. "Distraction."

Taylor blinked as she looked back at the woman.

Before woodenly turning her head back toward the plushy.

"You what?" She whispered faintly, trying and failing to reconcile the picture of the plushy-sized talking fiery goat with blowing up Winslow and coming up short.

"Blew up your school, and don't give me that look. I was a lot more impressive earlier," Ifrit repeated, crossing his arms with a huff, "My entrance in your world wasn't exactly good for it, so I had to shed excess Aether. And blowing shit up is usually the fastest way to do so." He pointed a finger at the woman by Taylor's side. "Giving her a human body also drew a lot of that excess so..."

"Not_Expected." Queen said, with a regal turn of her nose. "Cannot_perform_connection!"

"Yes, well, now you get to squeeze her cheeks instead of just piggy riding in her brain!" Ifrit shot back.

What the fuck? Taylor thought, finding her position, leaning against the woman, far less appealing all of a sudden. Especially once those starlight eyes dropped down to meet hers, and she felt her breath catch in her throat, every coherent thought suddenly and completely evacuating her skull.

"Acceptable." The woman smiled and woodenly patted her head.

"Anyway," Ifrit scratched the back of his neck, "since Queeny's original plan to make you into a parahuman," he waved a hand vaguely in Queen's direction, "which she absolutely would have done without my intervention, is now burnt to a crisp, I'm going to pick up the slack."

"Wait, you mean?" Taylor started, eyes going wide. Ifrit simply shrugged in response.

"Eyup, and count yourself lucky your world didn't have anything enshrined yet, so I can muck things around a bit to our advantage." Ifrit started; his voice, which had remained relatively light during the entire conversation, had now turned deadly serious. There was also a faint rumbling echo that sent a shiver down her spine as she found herself unable to look away from his eyes. And the inferno held in the depth of his gaze. "All it needs is for you to heartily accept a contract with me."

Taylor gulped, throat suddenly dry. Until an arm stood protectively in front of her.

"Stop_Aggravating_Best_Host!" Queen said, eyes narrowing.

Ifrit took a single look at the woman and snorted. "You're really attached to the hip with the kid, huh? Good." He started with a toothy smile before slowly leaning forward. Taylor blinked as a pair of fireballs danced inside the plushy orbits, where yellow eyes had stood seconds earlier. "But remember. I am the god here. I'm not above fucking around to find out, but there are a few things that need some decorum."

"Are you?" Taylor found herself asking before she could stop herself.

She immediately wished she hadn't, because it drew those burning eyes straight back to her.

"A god?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Taylor nodded.

"Aye."

The word slammed into her chest. The air in the room dried up. Everything felt suddenly too close, and too far away at once. She was pressed on all sides like an orange. And for a brief heartbeat, Taylor was no longer staring at a small plush figure sitting at the foot of her hospital bed.

She was staring up at nothing short of a demonic figure, wreathed in flames, stone skin cracked to reveal the roiling inferno underneath. Horns longer than buildings and a tail that could pulverise whole neighborhoods in one fell swoop.

The god spoke, his voice overlapped by a roaring inferno that pressed down on her, "I. Am. Ifrit." And the weight of his impossibly ancient gaze crushed Taylor. "Primordial God of Fire. And all the flames in creation are MINE!"

And even as she felt herself freezing in place, like a deer in headlights, Taylor instinctively knew, from some forgotten primordial corner of her soul, that the being in front of her was only telling the truth. The woman, Queen, didn't fare any better, having collapsed over her as if to protect and shield her from the wrath of the god, and yet utterly unable to look at him in the face. But Taylor didn't tear her gaze away, and ever so slowly her fist closed on itself, her shoulder squared themselves.

"Huh! So you do have some guts." Ifrit huffed, and his overbearing presence dissipated to leave behind only the talking plushy, who smiled widely back at her.

"You're really a god..." Taylor whispered, even as Queen tried to regain her lost composure.

"I am," Ifrit replied as he held up his hand. "And I am offering you power like never before in your World since time immemorial."

Taylor gulped, looked down at his hand before slowly looking back up into the god's eyes.

"What kind of power?" Taylor asked, before hesitating. "And what's the price?"

Ifrit's ears perked up.

"Smart kid!" He shook his head, his great mane swinging almost hypnotically. "I've mucked around the usual summoning contract, but it's still going to be decently classic." He made air quotes with two small plush fingers. "In short, you are going to be my emissary, slash boots-on-the-ground, slash everything-and-the-kitchen-sink gal. In exchange, I'm going to make sure your body is attuned to your world's aetherflow and add a thing or two so you can manipulate it."

Taylor stared at him. "What?"

"You're gonna be a wizard, kiddo." Ifrit made finger guns at her, grinning wide enough to show every single tooth.

"Magic?"

"Aye. To be precise, if you accept the contract, you will become a summoner. Magic is kinda an absolute necessity for this kind of contract, so you'd better learn to enjoy throwing fireballs out of your nostrils!" He winked. "But becoming a summoner also means you can call my warform into battle. If you wanna know how impressive that is, just check your local news." A casual shrug. "I guess."

Taylor sat with that for a moment.

A god. On speed dial. Who was currently a talking plushy sitting on her hospital bed, having what appeared to be the time of his life.

What the fuck is even going on?

"Why?" She found herself asking instead. "You're a god. Why would you need me?"

Ifrit's amusement settled into something marginally more serious, arms crossing in front of him. "My presence radiates pure Fire Aether. Which is," he paused, as if picking his words, "corrosive. In large quantities. End-of-the-world-turned-into-a-fireball corrosive, especially in a low Aether world like this one. So if I want to stick around and keep an eye on things, I need someone local to anchor the contract." The finger guns came back. "And lo and behold, there you were."

Choose One:

[ ] ... Ifrit keeps what he saw in the place of power on the other side of the ocean to himself for now. At least until the kid is out of the hospital.

[ ] ... Ifrit throws Taylor into the deep end, immediately informing her of his finding and that, as a summoner, she will have to deal with that. Sooner rather than later.

Taylor breathed deeply as she took everything in.

An actual god sitting on her hospital bed, offering her magic. In every story, legend, and myth, it was usually at this point that things tended to go really pear-shaped for the unsuspecting mortal.

But since when has anything been going well, anyway?

"Fuck it." Taylor snorted. "I'm in."

"Ah Ah!" The god shot to his feet, fist raised in the air, mischievous grin splitting his face as he walked up to her side. "I knew you had some fire in you!"

He raised a hand to his muzzle and blew.

A tiny ember drifted lazily from his palm, spinning through the air as it trailed a thin ribbon of smoke before landing on her chest, right over her heart. It sat there for a few seconds before it suddenly sank inside her torso, suffusing it with a gentle warmth.

And that was about it. She didn't feel suddenly strong, no instinct to use some kind of magic; heck, she didn't even feel any less emotionally exhausted than a couple of minutes earlier. Nothing but that warmth.

"Is that it?" She looked up at Ifrit.

Ifrit put a hand on his hips, cocking it as he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"You expected to spit fireballs from the get-go?"

"A little bit, yeah."

"Mortals." He rolled his eyes before he flicked her forehead faster than she could blink. "Always with the fireballs."

"Hey! What's that for!"

"I gifted you magic, kiddo. This ain't junctioning paramagic, but the real, raw deal. You're going to have to work for it. And there's a downside."

"Now you tell me about that?!" Taylor shouted.

"Calm down." Ifrit gave her a flat look. "It's nothing bad, for you at least. Since your world was Aether poor, your body will need time to adapt, and you will need more ambient Aether to cast your spells than most spellcasters to shore up for that."

Queen spoke before Taylor could even open her mouth, "Query: Elaboration_Required."

Ifrit sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, overdosing on Aether is one of the worst ways to go for a mortal. Aether is, in short, raw creation energy." He pointed a finger at Queen to cut off her coming question. "And I'm really, really synthesizing here; it's way more than that, but for now, it's a good enough explanation. Anyway," looking back at Taylor, he sat on his haunches and crossed his arms. "I gifted you the ability to manipulate it and reinforced your body to handle it on the same occasion. But since those reinforcements also come from Aether..."

"You can't reinforce me too much, or you're going to poison me?"

Ifrit grinned, "Eh! I got a sharp one. And, yes. I can't give you too much, too quickly, 'cause I don't want to have you suddenly mutate into some fire attuned creature out of the blue. Good news is that since Magic is like a muscle, the more you train with it, the more your body will be able to handle. Same goes for summoning me, at first you won't be able to maintain my presence for long or at full power, but the more powerful you are..."

"... the longer I can keep you around?" Taylor finished, making Ifrit nod.

"Aye." He replied, before patting his chest. "And don't worry about me disappearing on you. I can maintain this shell almost indefinitely. Though it's basically powerless..." He finished with an annoyed grumble.

Taylor Gained > Aetheric Magic

Taylor Gained > Aetherica Enhancement

Taylor Gained > Summoning

+*+*+*+*+

Queen Administrator found the whole exchange of data fascinating, and she had great expectations observing what her Best_Host would do with such a new paradigm before her. Though she had to squelch a sudden bout of foreign emotion at the prospect of not being the one to hand over such power herself. Another bout of tightness inside her chest, she catalogued amidst a slew of new data entry for her new body.

Despite this, Queen Administrator could rightfully say she was quite content with current events. If only because she could hold her Best_Host in her own appendages.

Remarkable_Arms! She gushed internally, giving her Best_Host another gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth of her against her side. Fascinating_Symbiotic_Capabilities.

She was more than old enough to admit this was entirely too childish, but she was a noble shard; she was allowed her eccentricities!

She was in an overall good mood.

Something that evaporated almost instantly as a familiar presence crept into her range somewhere beneath her feet. Her hand stopped mid-pat, her spine went rigid, while her lips pressed together into a line thin enough to erase the presence of her mouth off her face.

Her sudden bout of stillness drew the attention of the god and her Best_Host. The first looked at her with an amused eyebrow raised in her direction, while the second was somewhere between curious and wary. Which was saddening but not unexpected.

Unfortunately.

After all, it had been hours since the god's distraction.'

"Failed_Host." Her voice carried a chilling annoyance, such an interesting emotion that, as she spoke. "Presence_Detected." She paused for a beat before adding out loud. "Logging: Supreme_Irritation." At the very least, she could give Failed_Host that; he was stubborn enough to find Best_Host.

The god of fire stared at her for two full seconds. Then he laughed himself into a wheeze, slapping both small plush hands against his knee as he rolled sideways on the bed.

Her Best_Host frowned, blinked, then her eyes went wide. "Failed... Wait, you're talking about Dad?! Dad's here?!"

"Unfortunately." Queen harrumphed, shooting a pointed look at the still-wheezing god. "Your_Fault. Too_Long." Her foot had begun tapping against the floor with sharp, rhythmic precision, doing absolutely nothing for her composure but feeling deeply satisfying nonetheless. "The Failure is now here! Take_Best_Host_Away!"

Ifrit wheezed harder. "Unresolved issue!" He managed to shoot back between two wheezes.

Queen's chin lifted to an altitude that suggested she found the accusation beneath her notice, which was completely different from it being untrue.

She did NOT have unresolved issues with her Failed_Host. He had been the most PERFECT prospective Host she had in hundreds of cycles. And had proven to be the most perfect example of a failure, he couldn't even initiate the absolute bare minimum for a handshake protocol. The best thing that had ever come out of him was currently sitting against her side, and that was the beginning and the end of his relevance.

She had absolutely no feelings about it whatsoever. Anyone telling otherwise was obviously a liar. Even if it's a god!

Her foot tapped faster.

It's not as though she could do anything about it now anyway, she thought, eyes dropping to her own crossed arms and rhythmically assaulting foot.

To her hands.

Her very own, corporeal, entirely functional hands.

Her eyes went wide.

WAIT.

Correction!

Choose One:

[ ] ... Queen Administrator will give Failed_Host a piece of her mind. She got a human mouth now, best to forge while the iron is hot, as the god would say.

[ ] ... Queen Administrator will vacate the area for as long as Failed_Host remains in the vicinity. She will be close, but out of sight, for now.

+*+*+*+*+

The hospital had grown quiet around her, the particular hush of a building that hadn't stopped but had lowered its voice for the night. The occasional soft footfall of a nurse passed her door, a trolley wheeled by somewhere down the hall, and distant police sirens bled through the window glass before fading back into the city. Moonlight cut pale stripes across the floor through the blinds.

Taylor stared at the ceiling.

Her dad had gone back home hours ago after an awkward, emotionally exhausting discussion. He had stayed until a nurse had gently but firmly kicked him out, yet Queen had managed to slip away from the nurse's attention and slipped back into her room a few minutes after the last orderly had poked his head inside.

She looked so much like Mom.

Taylor hadn't meant to, but the thought kept coming back every time she chased it away. She watched the rise and fall of the woman's chest, the loose curl of her fingers around Taylor's hand, the dark hair spilling over the arm of the chair, which was achingly familiar, so that for a few seconds she could let herself believe. Then she remembered the starlight eyes, her bizarre way of speaking, and the illusion would fade away.

Still...

She's warm.

She clutched the woman's hands tighter.

A soft sound drew her gaze to the cabinet by the window. Ifrit sat on his haunches, arms crossed as he watched the city lights.

For a god that had wrecked her town, he was weirdly... cute looking like that. Certainly not helped by the bushy rabbit tail pocking out of his backside.

Taylor found herself smiling despite herself before refocusing her attention back to her left hand, the one that didn't get captured by Queen Administrator.

"Hey." She kept her voice low, mindful of the sleeping woman in the chair, who was actually starting to softly snore. "Ifrit."

The god plushy's ear swiveled toward her without the rest of him moving.

"How do I do magic?"

A slow smile spread across his muzzle as he turned from the window.

"Want to give it a try?"

Taylor bit her lips. She was still in a hospital, but maybe... Something small?

Brockton Bay Hospital, A few hours earlier...

"You. Inexcusable. Waste-of-Space!"

The words tore out of Queen as soon as Failed_Host entered the room; her body moved without conscious thought as she launched herself out of the chair. Sending it skidding backward with enough force to slam into the wall.

Her Best_Host jerked away in surprise, eyes going wide as her back struck the raised headboard. The small manifestation of Ifrit used the motion to tumble into Taylor's lap, settling with his back against her; her arms unconsciously moving to catch him and curling around his plushy body. The god's cheeks bulged outward as he fought to contain his laughter, his eyes dancing with absolute mirth at the chaos unfolding before him.

At this point, he might as well have just taken out the popcorn and a little flag.

Failed_Host remained standing frozen in the doorway, his hand still gripping the door handle, knuckles turning white while his jaw fell to the floor. While colors fled from her failure of a host, the orderly's eyes slid shut behind him, shoulders slumping as he let out a long, weary sigh and shook his head.

"And. Close_Mouth! Look_supremely_more_Idiotic!"

"Ann... What?" The whispered words almost went unheard as Daniel took one hesitant step forward. His expression was that of a drowning man, a trembling hand hesitantly raised in her direction.

Queen's body grew tense with righteous anger! Not Best_Host mother!

She felt something twist in her chest at the thought and squashed it. She had no time for strange host_based_body_reactions, she had more important things to do. Like yelling her frustration at her failure of a prospective host!

Queen jabbed her finger toward said failure as she proceeded to do just that.

"How. Dare! Show_face!" Her voice thrumming out of her chest.

"Well fuck me." The orderly whispered to himself as Daniel Hebert remained rooted to the spot, staring at the Queen Administrator.

"See, kiddo? Queeny's got unresolved issues with your Da!" The plushy carefully whispered to her, barely moving his mouth. No sense in typing some bumfuck nobody nurse about his presence.

"Shut up!" Taylor hissed back, her arms tightening into a vise. "Help me stop them!"

"Make up your mind, kiddo. Do I shut up or do I speak up?" Ifrit shot back, making Taylor growl in frustration, not unlike her father, not a few steps away.

Daniel, for his part, kept staring in shock at the woman wearing his wife's face. Or his wife returning from the grave? At this point, he wasn't exactly in the right mental state to tell the difference, not with his entire field of view narrowing, tunneling in on the woman at the sheer shock of seeing his wife's face. He could perfectly recognize her hair, the curve of her jaw, her nose, ears, and even her voice, things even the death of his wife had not removed from his memory.

His hands trembled. His heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest. Hours. He'd spent hours running himself ragged after that... that monster had demolished Taylor's school and what felt like half the fucking city in its duel with the local rage dragon. He'd spent himself ragged searching through the crowds at Winslow after being driven there himself at decidedly unsafe speed, had almost been in a fistfight with one of the costumed clowns on scene, before driving around town into every darn fucking hospital and clinics until he found her.

And he still couldn't tear his gaze away from that impossible woman, radiating fury, waving a finger in his direction.

His fucking daughter was in a hospital bed right there! With a stranger wearing his dead wife's face!

His tunnel vision worsened as the accumulated stress, fear, terror, and guilt that had accumulated to the boiling point through the day and since Annette died exploded.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" The words tore out of him.

Queen, for her part, puffed up her chest in righteous fury. "Waste_of_decades! Failure_of_commitment! Disgrace_to_Taylor! Inescapable_Washout_Ho..."

The words died on her tongue.

Best_Host name! I used Best_Host name! Why?!

Queen felt a sudden rush of heat to her face, burning from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. [EMOTIONAL_COMPROMISE_DETECTED! UNACCEPTABLE!] Her mouth flapped open and closed. More than enough for Daniel Hebert to shake off the orderly's hand that had appeared on his shoulder and stomp his way toward Queen Administrator, an angry growl building up in his throat before finally snapping.

"Get away from my daughter!" He yelled, fist closed so tightly he could feel the bones grinding together and the nail biting into his flesh.

Queen's eyes narrowed into pinpricks, her face morphing into a rictus of pure, unadulterated fury.

"Out_of_question!" Queen yelled back, stepping between The_Failure and Taylor.

"Security to room 214, now!" The orderly said to someone outside the room before interposing himself between Daniel and Queen. "Calm down, sir. You need to step back."

And doing so earned him the full ire of Daniel Hebert, whose head whipped around fast enough to crack and stare down the orderly. "Step the fuck back! My daughter is right there! And this..." He shouted, waving at Taylor, staring wide-eyed at the scene, clutching Ifrit against herself.

"Obey! Pompous_waste_of_Energy! Parental_Failure!" Queen yelled over the orderly's shoulder with a gleeful smile on her face, finger waving in the air.

"Ma'am, please don't...!" The orderly tried, looking back at Queen.

"What the fuck did you just say you fucking bitch?!"

"SIR!" The orderly shouted back. "I'm going to ask you to leave this room!"

"What?!"

"You might be angry with your ex-wife, but this is a hospital!"

"She's NOT my!"

"SIR!"

"Obey!" Queen shouted over the orderly's shoulder, making the man whirl on her.

"Ma'am, I'm also going to ask you to calm down! Keep this out of the hospital, or I'll also have you thrown out!"

"She's not!" "Won't_Abandon!"

"STOP!"

Someone yelled at the top of their lungs. It took everyone's astonished gaze to fall upon her to realize that it was Taylor who had just done so.

"I..." Taylor looked back and forth between the Queen and her father. "Dad, please."

"But, Taylor, she's!" Her father started waving angrily at the humanized Shard, her eyes hidden behind her shades.

"I know, Dad!" Taylor shot back. "I can explain!"

"Taylor!"

"Just for fucking once, listen to me! Please!" Taylor whirled back to Queen. "And couldn't you have just NOT done that!"

"Refut...!" Queen started, but was cut off by her Best_Host shushing her with a pointed finger.

"No! No more talking! Just shut up and sit down!" Taylor rounded back on her father. "Dad, please just... listen to me... Please?"

The anger and outrage drained from Queen's face as she watched her Best_Host. Her shoulders slumped forward. She felt... strange. A strong desire to stare at her own feet and wring her hands together welled up inside her, but as a Noble_Shard, she couldn't lower herself to such actions!

[Emotional_Surge] she noted distantly. [Best_Host. Disapointed?]

Daniel, for his part, shot a complicated glance at the woman who wore his dead wife's face, then back at his daughter. Taylor stared at him with pleading eyes, one hand clutching a giant plush toy, the other having fallen on the bed.

He was still feeling unbelivably angry, with questions burning down his throat, but if his daughter pleaded with him to listen and speak to him... He could do at least that. It... might be better than... than whatever they had been building up to since Annette passed.

He took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Okay..." he said quietly. "But first, I want you to tell me what she's doing here." He continued pointing a finger toward the woman.

"Sir." The orderly, who had noticeably relaxed and was now waving a hand toward the entrance, where a pair of burly security officers stood.

"Dad. Please." Taylor seethed before looking at the orderly. "Can you leave us alone? Please?"

The orderly looked at Taylor for a few seconds with a frown before tentatively nodding. "If your parents can keep their voices down." Then, he glared at Daniel and Queen alternatively, "Security will stay at the door. So I advise both of you to stay calm. Understood?"

Queen Administrator nodded silently, while Daniel sighed. "Yes, I understand."

The orderly gave Taylor one last glance, silently asking if she was alright to stay in a room with her 'parents.' She nodded with a small, tired smile. He left the room, taking the two security agents with him.

The click of the door echoed loudly through the room as everyone looked awkwardly at each other.

"That was even better than I expected, Queeny!" Ifrit twisted in Taylor's lap and beamed at the Shard, grinning from ear to ear, paw raised in finger guns.

"What the fuck!"

"Dad!"

+*+*+*+*+

Spoiler: The Balance is shifting

"Hey." Taylor kept her voice barely above a whisper, mindful of the woman, dead asleep in the chair beside her bed, who had started to snore softly without relinquishing her grip on Taylor's right hand. It wasn't unpleasant. "Ifrit."

The plushy's ear twitched and swiveled toward her, though the rest of him remained staring into the city, silhouetted by the moonlight.

"How do I do magic?"

The moonlight caught a smile spreading across his muzzle as he turned to look in her direction, a twinkle of amusement in his amber eyes.

"Want to give it a try?"

Taylor bit her lips, glancing at the door, then at the slow rise and fall of Queen's chest. I'm still in a hospital, but maybe... "Something small?" She finished in a whisper. And instantly hated how desperately hopeful her words felt as they left her lips.

Ifrit's smile turned into a grin as he hopped off the cabinet by the window with a soft whump, then let out an annoyed grumble before silently walking up to her bed, climbed onto it, and sat by her side. His two large paws lay to rest on his knees.

"Alright, baby summoner 101." His eyes glinted with barely suppressed amusement.

Despite how insane her day had been, between getting kicked into her locker, apparently being touched by God, and waking up to her dead mother's face in a hospital bed. Any one of which should have been enough to ring all the alarm bells in the world; Taylor felt a trill of excitement in her chest instead.

There was just something thrilling about the idea of having powers. Even if a part of her still had some doubt over everything, especially this whole 'magic' thing. But she knew Ifrit wasn't lying to her. She knew Ifrit could be deceptive if he wanted to. Even if she didn't quite understand why, she suspected the warmth in her chest was to blame, but he was clearly being honest with her.

Well, I could still be Mastered to think that... She thought to herself, looking into Ifrit's amber eyes as he started to explain. But, like, does it change anything at this point? She smiled. Everything is already done, the shitter.

"Since your World didn't really have enough Aether to do magic until now, we'll start simple." Ifrit's ears swished once. "Feel my fire inside you? That warmth in your chest? That's a tiny sliver of me; a very tiny one, mind you; just enough to call me when you need to."

Taylor nodded softly, turning her attention inward and focusing on the gentle warmth in her chest. "Okay, so it's like having you on speed dial?"

"Basically, yes." He crossed his arms with a satisfied nod. "It's not as strong as other kinds of compacts and contracts, but it's far less demanding on your body, too. Anyway." He waved a paw dismissively. "Magic. Feel my fire and try to replicate it in your hand."

Taylor frowned at the instruction. Her eyes dropped to her left palm, fingers spreading wide. Replicate fire in my hand? How?!

She stared at her hand, pestering at the lackluster help, while focusing on the sensation in her chest. Mentally reaching for the warmth, trying to grab it and pull it down... Suddenly, the warmth was no longer a gentle candle flame, but the heat of a radiator sitting right against her skin. Almost burning.

Ifrit's paw suddenly slapped her hand aside, throwing her focus into disarray, and the warmth instantly cooled down to its earlier feel.

"Oh!" shouted, more in surprise than any kind of pain, making Queen shift slightly in her seat.

"No, don't do that." Ifrit instantly admonishes, shushing a finger at her. "Now it's different for every summoner, but in general, do not tug on my flame or do anything with it if you don't want the local area to have a sudden case of..." Ifrit posed, puffing himself up while his mane floofed around his head. "Magnificent Me!"

Taylor stared at the poofed-up plushy perched on her hospital bed. For quite a few very long seconds. Enough that even Ifrit shifted slightly on his paws and cleared his throat.

Then she started to giggle, softly at first, then louder, until she had to slap her free hand over her mouth to avoid laughing outright. That would be a sure way to alert someone that something funky was going on, and she didn't want to deal with any questions just from having the woman sleeping by her side.

What even is my life... She thought with a shake of her head as she looked toward the night sky. In a hospital bed, learning magic from a plushie... I just need a transformation sequence, and I'm a full-blown magical girl...

She watched enough old anime from the 80' and 90' to recognize the trend. Beside her, Queen shifted in the chair, her grip on Taylor's hand tightened briefly before relaxing again. She mumbled sleepily something that sounded vaguely like "Best_Host... collection..." before trailing off into soft snores, drawing both Taylor and Ifrit's amused glance.

Taylor shook her head and turned back to Ifrit. "So no touching your fire unless it's an emergency?"

Ifrit raised a finger, his expression suddenly serious. "Touching is fine. That's how you communicate with us, actually."

Taylor leaned back, eyes wide with surprise. "Wait... us?" Her voice came out sharper than intended. "There's... more of you?"

Ifrit's eyebrow climbed. "What did you think, that I was the only Primordial in all of Creation?" He snorted. "There are quite a few of us. And with me here poking holes in reality, they'll probably come sniffing around sooner or later." He waved a paw dismissively. "But don't worry about them now, that's very much a 'later' problem. So anyway, touching is fine, but what you were doing was a baby attempt at summoning." Ifrit leaned toward her, poking a claw in her chest. "You were drawing me in."

Taylor frowned, looking the plushy up and down, that doesn't sound too bad... it's not like he's a giant mon... "wait." Ifrit raised an amused eyebrow. "Didn't she... you... Giant fire god?"

"Eyup!" Ifrit made finger guns at her. "I don't think my warform would fit into your room, so don't do it again. At least not in a hospital. Well that and calling upon me again would send you back to Lala-Land."

Taylor gulped as her mind conjured the vivid picture of a giant version of the plushy suddenly appearing in her room. It involved a lot of panicked screaming and fire. Lots of fire.

"Yeah. Okay. No summoning. Got it." She nodded, a nervous smile on her face, which made Ifrit chuckle.

The god settled back onto his haunches and looked a bit too pleased with himself as he returned to his lesson. "So, fire magic. Don't pull on my presence, just feel it." He said, gently tapping her chest. "I AM all the flames. By feeling me, you feel how every single flame is created. Even the one you make with magic! So instead... mimic that feeling into your hand."

Taylor closed her eyes. Okay... Feel it but don't try to use it, just copy that like in computer class...

Almost when she was about to give up, she felt something shift in her body. It felt... like a current of... of something. That shifted slightly down into her hand.

"Whoa!"

"Good!" Ifrit whispered. "Your mana is moving alongside your thoughts. Keep going, warm it up! Try to recreate the same feeling my warmth gives you!"

Taylor's brow furrowed in concentration, feeling the current pool into the palm of her hand slowly. She kept her eyes closed, as she tried to make the 'mana', as Ifrit said, warm up. It took a few tries and long minutes, but eventually she started to feel the current in the palm of her hand change, morph into something other. Something warm that pleasantly heated her hand.

A low chuckle broke her focus.

Taylor's eyes snapped open, finding Ifrit watching her with obvious amusement. The flames in his eyes danced with mirth.

Wait. That's not his eyes.

Her gaze dropped to her hand, and her mouth fell open.

A small flame flickered in the center of her palm. Orange and gold, no larger than her thumbnail, but unmistakably real. It cast tiny shifting shadows across the white hospital blanket.

It's warm...

"Congratulations, it's a baby summoner." Ifrit's voice carried smug satisfaction as he leaned back on his haunches.

I'm doing magic?! I got powers! The thoughts were almost hysterical.

"Now go try something else, before your Aether settle, best time to learn something. It will be harder after that..."

The smile she shot back at Ifrit was almost predatory.

Taylor gained spells > Fire, Aqua, Cure, and Drain.

+*+*+*+*+

Taylor stared out the windshield of her dad's pickup truck, squeezed into the middle seat between her father in the driving seat and Queen Administrator primly seated in the passenger seat. The seatbelt dug uncomfortably into her shoulder and stomach, while Ifrit sat on her lap, bobbing up and down with every bump in the road with far too much childish glee for a supposed Primordial God.

I'm going home, and I'll never go back to Winslow.

The words still felt surreal, as if the entire previous day's events were a fever dream. Until she woke up, still in her hospital bed, to find Queen Administrator, to the confusion of the doctor who came to check on her, still at her side, and Ifrit curled into a ball at the foot of her bed. Only then did it finally truly start to settle.

And I have powers!

Her father stared straight ahead, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He'd almost, almost, thrown them both out for the PRT to deal with. Would have, if Ifrit hadn't cheerfully reminded him how he had wrecked Lung and bits of the city, and that his contract was with Taylor.

"Meaning," the plushie had said, with a self-satisfied grin, swishing his mane this and that way, "That Taylor got me! And my seven-story high warform whenever she wants. Just saying."

Taylor hadn't appreciated Ifrit's suggestion, but that had certainly mollified her father quite a bit, even though he and Queen still shot darts at each other. It hadn't really helped that she was still coming to grips with what Ifrit had told her about that place over the Atlantic... It sounded... really bad, according to him. But right now, she really had other things to deal with.

And so they had went back to her home. Taylor squeezed between her angry father on her left, an alien superpower giving a human body on her right, and a plush-sized god on her lap, in the single most awkward ride ever.

"So, anyone up to stop for breakfast? I'm famished!" Ifrit cheerfully said into the pickup truck's crowded cabin.

"No!" Everyone shouted back.

+*+*+*+*+