My eyes were zoomed in on a screen depicting a cross between a dragonfly and a boomerang manifesting from the tarry muck. They were small and nimble creatures, basically lethal projectiles of their own. On another, tens of small critters were fusing together like three-dimensional puzzle pieces into a big ball of spikes and plates. That one was dangerous for sure.
But behind it, the darkness loomed, and as I zoomed in further it swallowed me whole. There were entire ecosystems of mimics on the other side, whole taxonomic groups whose purpose was to turn geothermal energy, sulfur, and s???????o???????u?????????l??????????s????? into glucose and liquid anti-mercury. It was like opening the eyes of my mind to a dozen concepts I wouldn’t have ever been crazy enough to dream of. It was alien. It was beautiful, in a fractal, geometric way. Their pink, shifting skin was just that: skin, an extra layer keeping the true mimics that were made of liquid within—
Something slapped me across the back of my head, breaking me out of my fugue.
“Ow!” I turned to Medusahead, an ache in my head and betrayal in my eyes. “You hit me!”
She nodded. “With my hand.”
“It’s made of metal!” I rubbed the back of my head. “You could’ve held back.”
“And you were staring into a class IV anomaly.” Medusahead stopped me from wobbling forwards and off the tank with her one arm. With the same arm she handed me a pack of tissues. “You need at least two hundred in Mind if you want to study a convergence effect without adverse effects.”
I dabbed my nose, my hand coming away bloody. A pointed reminder that I wasn’t even close to triple digits.
“So if we can’t look at it, what do we do now?”
Medusahead’s gaze roved across the road. “The assault is called off. We will be plenty busy just trying to hold position.” A gunshot rang out in the far distance. Then came another, and another. “Pray to whichever god you like that we make it out of this alive.”
More gunfire came from adjacent positions, steadily rising in frequency until it sounded like a hail of firecrackers. The mimics had started their final assault. Here was to hoping that they ran out of troops before we ran out of space to give.
People hunkered down. Orders were yelled. Soon, the first tip of a pink tide came rushing around the corner.
The old tank lit the road up. The M6A1 was a brick of steel bristling with machineguns and cannons that turned anything down the road into chunky salsa. The smallest 7.62mm were strewn across the hull and turret. They had the largest ammunition storage available, and so their takka-takka-takka filled the air constantly as they swept the roads from left to right and back again. Hank the tank enthusiast was peeking out of the commander hatch trying to wrestle the .50 cal into obedience. Every now and then the 76mm cannon shot at a larger grouping with a massive boom! that toppled buildings and sent dust everywhere.
The mimics dispersed, reducing the efficacy of the high explosive shells. This was the largest mimic concentration yet, making them frighteningly smart and coordinated. However, even then they couldn’t cover the road under this suppressive fire, which meant…
I jumped, grabbed onto a first story window, then heaved myself up onto the roof of a kebab shop. Just as I feared, they were sending flanking forces across the rooftops; one to the left filled with leapers, another to the right made of swarming lighter models.
Alright. Pricklers ready, bazooka loaded with HE, solid slug shots in my Spab-4 in case of big ones. Time to—
Two of Medusahead’s snake-drones zipped out from where she was calling out targets in the middle. They quickly laid a pair of acceleration-arrow moats along the roofs, sending the first groups of mimics tumbling onto the road, right into our killing zone.
Oh. I suppose she can just spam those if she’s got the ECC-efficiency for it.
… dang magical girls one-upping me with all their magic.
I blasted a sequence of three leapers out of the air after they tried to jump the moat. The rest dispersed, either climbing down to charge us head-on, or circling even further around. Those were going to meet our neighboring positions, and not fare much better with how I blasted them apart with some high explosive bazooka shots. At ranged attacks humans were kings; only the fewest leaper spines even managed to come close to the barricade below. But if it ever came down to a melee, then us clever apes would lose our main advantage.
Smaller arms fire rang out from all around, making me envious for the ear-protection Addy had bought. Addy, who was gone. Again.
Don’t panic. She’s taking the head off of the snake. Just focus on doing your best where you can.
— can’t be everywhere at once though. I’ve got gear and guns and a lot of soulcoins. It would be best to invest in everyone’s safety. Which is incredibly ironic, considering what I’m about to buy.
[Opening catalog of minor warcrimes]
[Spider mine Mk8: Your terrestrial, semi-autonomous area-denial tool of choice. Is it a mine? Is it a drone? Who knows! The geneva convention is broad, but it sure doesn’t cover mines with legs. Seeks out designated foes by sneaking, running, or jumping at them. Price: 15 Soulcoins per mine. Buy our 12-pack and get one mine FOR FREE!]
I like free things. Especially if I have to pay to get them.
I really don’t want to know what was wrong with the previous seven iterations.
“I’ll buy your entire stock,” I said.
[Soulcoins: 488->8]
One impulsive purchase and two minutes later I was surrounded by a swarm of dinnerplate-sized, chirping mines. They bleeped and blooped, a small bulb that was both camera and light on top flashing in irregular intervals. They had four stubby legs that made no noise even as they bobbed up and down.
They were so cute!
One of them stilled, climbed down the side of the kebab shop, and launched itself right into the flight path of a leaper before exploding.
… that was mildly terrifying. But still cute.
They were linked up to my system interface. Commanding them was easy, as was giving them simple commands. I patted one on the underside after I finished assigning our side of the frontline as friendlies.
“... go make yourselves nuisances, ‘kay?”
The swarm dispersed. Soon enough, their explosions joined the cacophony of battle, and some coins began trickling back in. A spider mine for a leaper was a bad exchange for me, monetarily speaking, though I had no doubt that the leaper was better off dead than alive.
Barely regaining the soulcoins I’d invested into them proved the norm. Some mines earned twice their cost in revenue, and others only half. I was only making a profit through my more efficient personal contributions. Alas, an infinite-soulcoin-glitch this was not.
I’ll still autobuy a few just to keep the area safe.
[You have slain: 6kg Loping springer x5]
[Soulcoins: 509->536]
Big money. Also, what the heck is a loping springer?
A loping springer was, apparently, a worm-like mimic coiled up in the shape of a spring. They moved like deranged slinkies, throwing one end forward, contracting, then flipping their rear end over in a neverending cycle of forward motion. I knew that because I saw a group of them bounce chaotically down the road between machinegun and small arms fire.
Most bullets missed. They were hard to hit, being thinner than my forearm and anywhere between two and ten feet long. They’d overtaken the other mimics by now and picked up speed. The first of them reached Medusahead’s conjured arrows. They leapt right over.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw one of them compress, then bounce forward, unspiraling into a sort-of triple-edged spear and goring someone straight in the chest.
Crap.
I ran down there as fast as I could, blasting mimics with Toothpicks and Goop Gun slime on the way. There was a lot of blood when I arrived. More lopers were approaching by the second.
Crap crap crap.
Slapping a time bandaid on his chest and back was the best I could do. I did not envy the surgeons who’d have to put him back together again once this was all done. Maybe they wouldn’t. Maybe he’d be written off. The mimic had gone straight through his heart after all, and wiggled out the other end before being clubbed to death.
The ramparts called to me. Prevention was the best medicine.
I shot and ducked and sniped and chucked and ran and gunned.
Time passed. Minutes probably. It had to have at least been five minutes, right? I couldn’t tell. The rooftops needed defending. Neighboring sectors were calling for help. Medusahead’s drones told me exactly where and when I’d be expecting how many mimics, and through it all I felt like a robot completing small task after small task, immediately starting the next with barely the time to file the memories away for later processing.
An unfamiliar crack rang out. I felt nonlethal shrapnel shower me from behind. Something had hit the tank. Something…
The vampire. He was standing at the end of the road. Next to him was a pile of what I could only describe as hard things — steel girders, chunks of concrete, bowling balls. A weird type of mimic I’d never seen before was handing them to him. They looked like a starfish, but with seven many-jointed hands, and two beady eyes on stalks.
That is definitely not a bodyplan from earth.
The vampire picked up a bowling ball, leaned back, and tossed it. Vampires were good at tossing. They had insane Body stats. Anything remotely solid they threw hit like a missile. It hit the tank right on the turret, exploding and making defenders flinch and cry out all around.
The tank’s machineguns stopped firing. The sound inside must have been deafening. But they picked up again with renewed effort when Hank shut the hatch behind him.
A chunk of concrete hit someone in the head, turning it into a fine pink mist. They were dead on the spot.
We have to get that damn vampire, now!
My pinecone projectile was still unknown to this vampire, but the moment I revealed it the advantage of surprise would pass. I had exactly one shot. But he was hundreds of yards out. [Arms & Arms proficiency] told me that it was more luck than skill to hit a target that size from this range.
“Targeting heart, AP rounds, firing.”
A shot rang out, from one of Medusahead’s snipers on the roof next to me. I didn’t see the bullet leave the barrel, but I sure did see it hit. The vampire jerked back.
“Hit. Scratch one vamp— no way.”
The vampire opened his hands and dropped a tiny shiny object. He’d caught the bullet. This was the speedy vampire, the one that choked me out before I lost my only extra life. If it had been any other one, the shot would have hit the pink bulge in his abdomen, right where the deathworm-mimic was hiding, and blown him away.
The tank turret had fired on him with its main cannon, and he freaking caught the shell as if it were a freaking football. His body twisted unnaturally as he made to toss the steaming projectile right back to the sender.
“No!”
A blur of fur hit him. There was an explosion, then dust, but with my [Extra spider eyes] I saw exactly what had happened.
“Addy?”
One of Medusahead’s drones came down to hover right next to me.
<
“I—ok. ok. Wait, what giant anteater?”
A shadow appeared overhead. I jumped off the building, fear spiking as a huge paw smashed the entire roof I’d been standing on. Through my tumble, I caught a brief glimpse of it: four limbs, a way too furry tail, and a headshape that was as long as it was distinct.
It was an anteater. A pink anteater the size of a bus.
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A moment later, it disappeared in a way that was also dang familiar.
A teleport? Invisibility?
I landed on the barricade, crashing through the roof, and rolling across the floor until I came to a stop. There was a heavy thump behind me. I turned around, fear pounding in my chest. I knew exactly where it landed just by sound.
The tank’s armor screeched against its claws. Anteaters had huge claws made for digging through earth to their prey of choice. When scaled up, they could even bend rolled steel plates.
Within seconds, the anteater popped the turret hatch open.
“No!” I screamed.
Its tongue flicked in, pulled a figure out, and swallowed it in one go. Then it did it again for the driver. Within a couple heartbeats, Hank and his wife were gone.
“Medusahead, we gotta kill that thing pronto!” I yelled, swapping my bazooka for the Spab-4. I couldn’t shoot a high explosive round this close to our frontline for one simple reason: Friendly fire isn’t friendly. Once mister rocket-propelled-grenade had left his launch tube, he was neither mine nor anyone’s friend.
I braced, and the Spab-4 barked once, digging a fist-sized chunk out of the mimic’s body. The ant-eater flinched, but it was large enough that even that much didn’t kill it immediately. I couldn’t even aim for any theoretical heart. After that nosebleed-inducing insight, I was pretty sure that mimics were just liquid inside. And this was one big balloon to pop.
It swiped its furry tail at me. I ducked under it, only to be grabbed, because of course a mimic tail wasn’t made of normal fur. Sticky, finger-length tendrils latched onto me as I was swept up and away like a bug.
Belatedly, I noticed that I was missing my Toothpicks. The tendrils had taken them and disappeared them into their depths. I could feel them tugging on my Spab-4 as well, all the while the anteater was tearing through our lines, disappearing people in the blink of an eye.
A frontliner turned to face it — gone. The sniper who’d hit the vampire racking his next shot — gone.
Medusahead yelling orders, her hair cameras turning around to face the anteater, glowing as if they were about to fire dozens of lasers — nope, also gone. The way the tongue wrapped around her head with lightning speed and tugged probably broke her neck as well.
All the while I was on its back, wrestling with its freaking hair follicles.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
One shotgun shot, two shotgun shots. Recoil coupled with physical trauma tore me free from their embrace, sending me tumbling backwards. When I stood up, I realized that I was standing on its back.
Eyes opened along the ridge of its back, human eyes complete with eyelashes. They turned back to stare at me.
I gave them a nervous grin.
I don’t think I can get to you in time, Addy.
+++
Why am I here?
Addy stood on a flat-top roof face to face with an elder vampire. Blood trickled from her hand. The explosion got them both. Sadly, she needed a moment to chant [I’ll be fine] to make sure she didn’t bleed out. Vampires simply didn’t bleed, period.
The Ur-mimic is a bigger threat than some old undead. There’s a huge reward on its head. With that many soulcoins, I can buy the potion I need to heal Mason. So why? Why did I turn back?
They clashed. The elder vampire’s hand blurred. Then it was embedded into her chest. Even in her buffed-up werewolf form, it had just punched right through muscle and bone. She felt him grasp her heart. One painful gasp, and then she left her mortal coil behind.
She was in space again, in limbo between this life and the next.
[Extra lives: 7->6]
Can’t afford to stay dead.
Because if she stayed dead people would die, and those deaths were a lot more permanent. They mattered, more than her lives, more than anything.
Is that why I turned back? Random people? Medusahead?
Sam.
[Instant revive bought]
[Soulcoins: 921->801]
She appeared right behind the vampire moments after it’d walked over her corpse. Her arm didn’t reappear. She’d sacrificed it, and sacrifice only meant something if the loss hurt.
But that was fine. She only needed one arm to wield her favorite weapon.
“Summon: Hocchi.”
Her knee hit him in the stomach, right where the deathworm was hiding behind its ludicrously tough abdominal wall. The creature twitched and convulsed, but not enough that it couldn’t catch her blade as she brought it up towards its chin. He twisted it away, then raked Addy across the arm with his claws. Flesh hung in strips.
“I’ll be fine,” she chanted, retreating into a defensive stance.
The vampire was what people in the business of murking mimics called a ‘stat stick’. As far as stats went, he had her beat twice over at least. As far as abilities and skill did, Addy had the advantage there. Calling it an advantage felt like a cruel joke. She’d trained all her life and yet she might as well have tried fighting a mountain.
“Get off—”
[Extra lives: 6->5]
“Dammit! Instant revive. Mute all system notifications.”
A deathworm adapted to its host over time. The first hours after attaching to a host were the most precarious. The mimic’s strings were still growing throughout the body, leading to jerkiness and a lack of fine motor control.
Of course, someone had helped this one adapt faster.
Ur-mimic.
Her next attack came from above, a full-blown chop intended to cleave one of his arms off, at least dealing some semi-permanent damage. She succeeded in driving it through his shoulder, down to the clavicle.
Then his flesh knitted together, trapping her sword inside. The followup was as predictable as it was unavoidable.
[Extra lives: 5->4]
Was she happy, spending the lives she’d saved up for that final encounter on this one?
Well, she wasn’t happy that she was dying, over and over. One or two deaths would’ve been fine. But this wasn’t a one or two death mission.
I must be the worst magical girl in existence.
— worst Custodian. Sam just calls us magical girls, which we’re not. A Custodian is…
She blanked as she and the vampire circled each other in unison. This was not the time to be philosophizing, and yet the answer never felt more important.
I don’t know.
They clashed. It was clear who had the upper hand.
When did waking up become a chore? Since my family stopped recognizing me by my smell? Since the ur-mimic took mentor Irina from me? Somewhere between then and the past two years of running, searching, desperately searching for some form of relief?
What am I feeling? And if it’s nothing, why does it hurt so much?
[Extra lives: 4->3]
I like my job. I want to be good at it. I want people to look at me and think ‘wow, that’s a tanuki I’d like my daughter to be like’.
[Extra lives: 3->2]
Trying for an impossible goal only ends in failure. But if I don’t even try, I’m admitting I’m not good enough anyways.
Failure is like death, in a way.
[Extra lives: 2->1]
And then came the epiphany.
I am a Custodian. There were many before me. There will be many after. And where I fail, others may succeed. And Custodians aren’t afraid of death.
[Extra lives: 1->0]
Addy landed in a pool of her own blood.
Five minutes were up. Her first body with an anti-deathworm vest she’d re-bought was dissolved, leaving a gooey mess underneath the vampire’s legs. Right where she’d led him through the course of seven entire lives.
The vampire slipped. She flexed her claws and went right for the kill.
Her arm stopped as she was two knuckles deep into the vampire’s stomach. His hands had caught her forearm. Bones creaked ominously as she tried and failed to wrap around and squish that damn mimic.
Damn. Even after all that, it’s not enough?
A familiar figure reached their field of battle. Addy squinted as Sam aimed her bazooka at the back of the vampire.
“Do it!” Addy yelled.
The rocket propelled grenade flashed, zipping right past the vampire as he dodged unnaturally, picked up a rock, and flicked it right at her head within moments.
The body double dissipated.
It was enough.
Addy opened her mouth and bit down on his chest. It was an act of desperation, of sheer idiocy. Sure, her teeth were sharp, but a vampire's natural constitution didn’t play fair. Blowing up their heads only stunned them until it could regrow. They only had one weak spot — besides starving them of blood. Killing an elder vampire was practically impossible.
Addy pulled her mouth back and spat out the wooden stake lodged in his heart. The vampire twitched, eyes rolling in the back of his head as his body went into a seizure.
There. Pretty sure I’m not getting any soulcoins from that. But, between me and the deathworm, I’m sure I know who the vampire is more angry at.
Wonder how Samantha’s doing.
An explosion had her tiredly looking to the side. The giant anteater was toppled onto its side, leaking too much mimic blood for anything to be able to survive.
She’ll be alright.
Addy looked back at the vampire. He was awake, looking up at Addy with a stare of utmost confusion.
“You, mutt, have awoken me. Are you prepared to pay the price?”
+++
I couldn’t use my bazooka. I lost my Toothpicks. But finally, finally, the anteater stopped moving.
Don’t ask me how. Somewhere in between emptying magazines of mooseshot into its back and almost getting eaten twice after, it just sort of… died. And with its death, it seemed the mimics had figured that they stood no chance of breaking us today. They skittered away, determined to make themselves a nuisance in the future. But today, just for a moment, we were victorious.
[Creektin barrier charge: 147.5/150 tons]
[Level up! You’ve reached level 27]
[Level up! You’ve reached level 28]
[+8 Body, +4 Sense, +4 Mind, +2 Soul, +2 Free stat point]
“I did it,” I muttered in disbelief as I stood on top of its corpse. “I did it!”
And the barrier was nearly charged to full capacity. Creektin wasn’t going to be atomised. Hooray!
The mimic’s body was oozing black blood all over, deflating like a balloon. Oddly, there was a piece of the creature that had much less give, a solid membrane around… something. Pink skin sloughed off, and after wiping some of the goop away, I saw a face, and then another one.
It was the creature’s stomach. It had stored everyone it had eaten in there. Why?
Who knows. Doesn’t matter. Gotta get them out.
A few cuts with my knife and people toppled out, coughing, bruised, but alive.
“You, you, and you, CPR, now,” I said, ordering the three closest people to Hank and his wife, who were still unconscious. It was time for damage control, for tallying losses, and all that came after a battle like this.
Looking around, seeing the exhausted, quiet, and sometimes tear-struck faces, it was hard to call this victory anything but pyrrhic. It certainly felt like everyone lost something. Which was why when Hank breathed in a gasp of air in the same breath as I found my Toothpicks again, I immediately felt uneasy.
Something was going to go wrong. Something always did. There was always a second mimic, always a second trick.
Where’s Addy?
I’d sent her a body double, hoping it could help even just a bit. Since then, her battle had quieted down. I vaulted a fence, leapt on a dumpster and, using it as a spring, propelled myself up an entire story. My hands latched onto the sides of the roof and I pulled myself up.
And froze.
There was a pile of Addies in the corner.
No.
I stepped backwards and almost tripped off the roof. When I looked down, I saw I’d stumbled over a severed, furred hand.
No no no.
None of the Addy’s were moving, not a single —
A twitch. There! That one’s alive.
I crawled right over.
“Addy. Addy, hey. Wake up.”
Addy stirred. Her eyes were barely open.
“Fucker took my blood,” she slurred. “Ugnf. My head. Ow.”
I laughed nervously and hugged her close to my chest. She was practically liquid the way she draped against me. Not water-liquid. Heavier. Like liquid metal. She smelled like metal too. God that was a lot of blood.
“Addy, you’re ok, right? Do you need, like, a time bandaid or something?”
“I’m Addy. Yes. I’ll be fine, I’ll be…” She raised a hand before going limp again. “I’m dizzy.”
“Stay with me. C’mon, let’s get you off this roof.”
I pulled, and tugged, and tried to move her. I even flipped her on my back and tried to lift her like an ant lifts a particularly large pebble. After two steps her weight buckled my knees. I flopped to the ground, barely managing to turn under her weight.
Don’t say she’s heavy don’t say she’s heavy.
“Isn’t it funny how losing blood makes you heavier, not lighter?”
Dammit!
She just stared at me bleary-eyed. A bit of drool dripped down her mouth.
Suddenly, a drone floated up right next to me. It looked exactly like Medusahead’s head. Then, its mouth moved as if it was alive.
I yelped.
“She is delirious from losing seven people's worth of blood,” the medusahead head-drone said as it surveyed the area. “And clearly as many lives.” She regarded Addy with a look between contempt and begrudging respect. “You are one big idiot, you.”
“Bish, I dueled a vampire and lived. I’m perfect. I—” Addy tilted her head to look me straight in the eyes. “I deserve a hug.”
You sure do.
The drone scoffed. “It’s worse than I thought. As for you, little Spider-Sam — will you stop poking my hair!?”
“Just checking if it is really you.”
Medusahead blinked. “It is. If you don’t have an extra life, have a backup plan. Even if you do have a life, it is better to be prepared.”
“Uh-huh. You don’t happen to have a life potion available for Addy?”
“Even if I did, it would be wasted on a blockhead like her.” Medusahead snorted. “Her deference pool is full. She only has her natural regeneration to heal her. She will be on her feet in a couple days.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
“It is not. I don’t know if you have noticed, but we are on a schedule.”
“On a schedule to win? We only need to take out a few more mimics, right?”
Her silence was more unnerving than anything she could have said.
Come on, say it, you know what the issue is.
“Where’s the Ur-mimic?”
“Two miles down the road at the abandoned steel mill. The drone I had trailing Addy followed it after she turned around. Color me surprised — there was a nest, one that was growing even before this specific convergence event. It has mimics, guards, sacrifices, everything needed to wreak terrible havoc. The system estimates that with the resources present, it will break through the barrier within the hour.”
Another doomsday clock. What were the odds?
“We can’t evacuate that quickly.” Numbly, I looked around. “People are hurt.”
“I can handle people, do not worry about that part.” She paused. There was clearly something on her tongue, something she was having difficulty getting out. “How many lives do you two have left? Be honest.”
I stared at her like an idiot.
“Zero,” I muttered.
“Nuuuullll!” Addy said.
Medusahead’s face was as if set in stone.
“Someone needs to delay the mimic,” she said. “At least until we can evacuate the couple hundred people that are left.”
“There are more people than whoever’s left in the evacuation zone,” I noted as my hands ran through Addy’s fur, eliciting contented grumbling noises. “We can’t leave them behind.”
“Under any normal circumstances I would agree.” Medusahead pursed her lips. “But we cannot risk the ur-mimic breaching the barrier, or thousands will perish. On the plus side, if people are abducted during a convergence event, usually you will find them at the nearest nest. We just need someone to spearhead an assault so as to divert attention while simultaneously slowing down the enemy’s battle plan enough for us to succeed.”
“A suicide mission,” Addy drawled. “My favorite.”
“I’ll do it,” I blurted out. “I didn’t get hurt… much. I’m fine.”
The stare that Medusahead gave me was penetrating, confrontational, and decidedly way too knowing. She squinted as she hovered closer, close enough to whisper.
“You are evidently not ‘fine’. Your mental state is all over the place.” Ten of her snake hairs flicked their tongues. “I can taste it. It’s like a thousand rubber balls bouncing around in a bouncy castle, and the bouncy castle is almost out of air. You’re a Joy-Fear caster, aren’t you?”
“And you must have a lot of soul,” I muttered, struggling to concentrate while Addy rubbed her face into my arms. “What is she doing?”
“She is channeling pure anticipation, recharging her spells like a good girl. She was trained not to waste a moment. You should get some education as well once this is all over.”
If I somehow manage to survive.
“If you manage to survive.”
Wow. She just called me out. No hesitation. Or maybe she’s reading my mind.
“I’ll manage, somehow. I can probably make two whole illusory doubles now.”
Medusahead did not look impressed. “But can you control them?”
“We’ll see once I’ve charged it. Got a lot to be afraid of, right? Failure, dying, all the people I’d disappoint. I’ll need to take a car to make it in time, right? God, maybe I’ll just crash it into the Ur-mimic. That’s about all I know to do.”
Her stare was blank, her impression unmoving. I probably fell a few places in her estimation.
“I am asking the impossible of you, I know. You are a sub-30 with barely a few days of experience. You are untrained, immature, unreliable. And your build is…”
“A daring novelty? Charming?”
“... a handful.”
I squinted at her. “A fellow enjoyer of puns, I see. High five!”
The floating head blinked at me, quite mechanically.
“You know what? I am certain you will do just fine and everything will work out without a hitch.” An unlikely assumption, but hey, let’s trust the experts' judgement. “I am lending you a vehicle. Keep it in one piece.”
I laughed nervously. “Umm. Yeah. So, about that—”
“I am aware of your history concerning vehicular incidents. You will be happy to hear that I am also lending you my best driver, and my second in command.” One of her tentacles hovered up to her ear as if she was taking a phone call. “Critically wounded? Both? Well.” She turned back to me. “I am lending you my second best driver, and a drone controller. I would like them back in one piece. You will find them at the ping on your minimap. Now go. I will make sure the teleporter stays open for you until the absolutely last possible moment.”
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