Rain Harlow
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Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2025-05-15 15:00:12 +0000 UTCChapter 43: Meeting The Charge
“It’s not a horde, Jack,” Lindsay’s voice chimed in his head. “Five is not even close to a horde.”
“Not now, Lindsay!” was Jack’s reply.
Jack suddenly wished he had more AoE prepared for the occasion. A cloud of dust wasn’t strong enough at range, though he could make an annoying, swirling cloud. Targeting eyes like he had once was a trick of point-blank, precise access, like having a needle when your enemy’s face was in your lap — stick it right in their eye. But it wasn’t so great when they were meters away and you had many to stick at once.
He did have an idea ready that could be implemented quickly, so he went with it immediately once he could put his full power into it. He took control of the cable flail and began twirling it with the heavy weight on the end, aiming for a radius as large as he could without hitting the walls. He spun it around as hard as he could, making a cable-based helicopter blade, essentially, and angled it so one ‘edge’ was very close to the ground, sometimes just touching. This was then interjected between him and the charging snakes as Jack simultaneously backed up to create a little more space.
The ASSes immediately stopped and reared up at the barrier, soon unleashing a combination of acid globs and poison mist at the strange, new enemy. Jack’s spinning death cable, though it required a ton of focus, was exceptionally fast, and the globs were all caught and slung apart, into the ground and the walls. There wasn’t much initial damage done to the steel.
Jack opted to ‘push’ their distance back a little bit, moving slowly at first, soliciting another acid volley amidst the angry hisses.
Once he got a little extra space between them, he moved the spinning cable in a sudden, quick attack, aiming to catch them in the radius and deal damage.
The ASSes got slammed. Three of them were hit and slung into the walls hard, while a fourth ended up taking the brunt of the momentum as they jammed the ‘works’ up and tangled into the cable quite destructively. Acid was sprayed all over as its body was ripped open in at least two places. One down, for sure.
Sadly, the tangle up had ended the helicopter maneuver and delayed free access to the cable. One of the ASSes was thrashing with its mouth open, apparently seriously injured, while the other two that had been slammed into the wall were moving slower but recovering, perhaps stunned. One snake had avoided the whole attack initially, snapping itself backwards once it saw the others getting hit. This one now shot forward, coming straight for Jack.
Oh, come on! It would run away after all that! Probably.
Jack amped up his total output once again, to 80%, and pulled out a throwing dagger from his belt, soon switching and collapsing most of his memorite into it to launch it at the charging snake’s head, making one last second adjustment mid-flight. It wasn’t an easy target by any means…
The ASS flicked its head sideways with supreme, twitchy reflexes, and the dagger bounced on stone and went spinning past. The snake did not bother rearing up — it rolled across the ground, eating space like a sprinting man, and was in melee range quickly, swiping its stinger tail low, at Jack’s shins.
Jack hopped backwards, scraping his feet on dirt-covered rock and kicking dust up into the air. What spare glance he had for his shins did not show any sign of getting nicked by the stinger.
Jack swung his machete at the ASS, which caused it to jerk away and prepare to coil, perhaps for a leap. But Jack’s swing was more of a feint — he collapsed his memorite into the machete on the full extension and let go, backing away to create enough space. He didn’t want to be close to them, after all.
Full control at the optimal range of two meters was achieved a moment later. Before the snake could strike, Jack drove his spinning machete at it, catching it by surprise. It did not abandon its coiled state fast enough to dart away, and Jack chopped right into its body with the razor-sharp blade with all he had.
Perhaps too much, as he cut it soundly in half. Acid went spraying every direction like an explosion, and something he didn’t expect happened, too: a loud pop like a firecracker going off, echoing off the walls. Jack ducked behind his shield in time not to get hit in the face, but he had acid spray on his boots. His right boot got eaten through in a small hole, and his toes went numb.
Shit!
Jack found some dirt to stick his damaged boot in briefly, hopefully burying some of the acid. He had no real time to obsess about it, though: there were other ASSes to deal with.
When he looked, the two snakes were not charging, however. They’d separated to either side of the tunnel, holding still.
Jack could laugh at the scene. What, are they surrendering?
His good humor evaporated as a massive shape came into view from the sharp right at the far end. The ASS was thicker than a human, showcasing precisely why the tunnels the snakes were in in the first place was the size it was rather than something smaller for a snake den.
It was not lumbering and moving slow, either, as it slithered into the tunnel’s space, cocked upward slightly, and opened a sticky, mucus-lined maw big enough to swallow a person, all while still moving. The glob of acid that fired out was not much smaller.
Holy Unholy Shit!
Jack knew he couldn’t simply block the glob with the shield due to the splatter threat. Acting as quickly as he could, he collapsed his memorite into the shield and levitated it forward, pulling his hand free.
The shield got free of him just in time to have the acid glob slam into it on the other side, and completely engulf it, the mucus-like splatter coming from all directions to fold and slap over the other side in thick tendrils. More splashed on the walls. The stone, as well as the metal inside the engulfed glob, began sizzling and smoking immediately from the potent concentration.
Jack kept going with the shield, flinging it as hard as he could forward in a throw, purely as a delay and distraction. He didn’t wait around to see what became of it — he beat a ‘strategic retreat,’ turning fully around for speed.
He stumbled slightly from his numb foot, having to half-run, half-limp along, but blessedly, the other turn-off was right there. He cut behind the cover with time to spare as he heard clanging metal behind him, his memorite already retracted and pulled around him, ready for his next move.
Without his cable flail immediately available and difficult to retrieve, and even his machete abandoned to both block the glob and return his memorite as quickly as possible, he had to shift tactics to something else. He pulled whatever pointy objects he had and dropped them on the floor even as he was hurrying past the two carcasses he’d made earlier, creating as much distance as he could, while leaving his memorite in the hypothetical ‘kill zone’ behind him. He pumped his output up to 95% in preparation for the ‘Hail Mary’ attack. About 80 Force.
Offense is all I have here without more metal. Maybe I should’ve brought an anvil? But it’s not super realistic for the scenario at my current level. I need much more preponderance of mass potential to float metal with me everywhere without significant fatigue.
Jack turned back around just before the giant ASS came around the tunnel’s curve. As soon as its eyes seemed to be locking on him — and unfortunately before it opened its mouth where he wanted to attack the most — his darts and knives were right under its head. He had to strike.
As rapidly as he could, he grabbed his projectiles and fired them at the creature’s face. He didn’t take time to meticulously aim for the eyes, attempting to deal as much damage as he could in a short time, like a semi-auto burst.
Thwick! Thwick! Thwick! Two darts and a knife shot up like bullets into its face and lodged in deep with the crunch of cartilage. It thrashed hard to get the ‘thorns’ off, slamming the walls and shaking them, its body shuddering with pain — but unsurprisingly, it was not stopped. It barreled forward, mouth opening and closing briefly in agitation, and poisonous mist spewing out.
Before he knew it, the giant snake was past all his ammo and nearly in his face, never stopping or even slowing down in its charge. It opened its mouth, showing a toothless maw of thick gunk and liquid acid beginning to pool. It didn’t spit, though — It was going to chomp him, possibly swallow him, and coat him in acid while he was held well firm.
The moment as before had arrived, the adrenaline-fueled slow-motion state of a needed critical action, a tiny ‘just enough’ gap of time recognized and highlighted by a complex intuitive interface. Jack had all of his memorite collapsed back to him, knowing he would just be tossing pebbles at a mountain to hit it under the belly.
He pumped his output into the stratosphere. Up, up, and away, cramming as much memorite out as he could. He felt the counterpressure, the warning, that unique pain Memoria had described, and the ‘need’ to push even more. But he heeded it, like the pain was Lindsay snapping her fingers in his ear, saying, “Hey! Knock it off, shit-for-brains!”
He did. Here we go.
Magnitude at 104%!
Jack spun and concentrated free dusty memorite in a loose cylinder close out in front of him. With all of his strength, he pressed and tightened it all along the length, but focused extremely on the very end: a spearpoint. By the time he had it made, the tip was almost touching the giant snake, its mouth open wide around it — and Jack right beside it.
Sweat coating his skin, Jack ignored any hope of defense, focused on nothing but that manufacture, that cast metal he was forging out of thin air, a spear to drive into his enemy and make it pay for its meal. Compression, like before, like the thumb and forefinger that not long ago had made a thin, little shell, bit by bit by bit, in tedious obsession. But what he was doing then was not so human. He did it with many thumbs and forefingers. Dozens and dozens of those points of supernatural control, all working in concert to craft the hard point and kick some ASS.
An irregular spear-like crystal, like metal ice, formed, ugly and dubious, fragile… yet he knew it was hard and sharp. Incredibly sharp.
Jack drove it up under the mouth of the snake just as it was closing around him, the momentum of the barreling snake only adding more power to his tactic. He didn’t try aiming ‘inside’ the mouth, per se, not deeper within. Instead, he aimed just behind where he guessed its eyes would be. A relatively tiny brain there, hopefully.
The spear point pierced through with smooth, soundless ease, like a sharp knife through butter. It held together for a spell, after, and then at some point after driving in, it shattered and broke, part of it falling into the mouth and the hellhole of acidic mucus and saliva.
Jack was right there with it as he twisted around at the last second, presenting his ‘virtual backpack’ as a final barrier to absorb some damage. He was soon slammed bodily into the fleshy mush with a great splatter and felt it as an odd, intense ‘pressure’ from the interface. His head and legs were left dangling in open space to either side of the snake's head, briefly. Mucus-acid splattered and coated him almost immediately, eating through the suit with pathetic ease as he felt numbness begin to permeate his skin.
Even still, he reached out with Interpret to find the biggest whole shard still lodged in the snake, quickly finding it. He grabbed it and yanked it randomly as hard as he could, back and forth rapidly, like a dog with a rag in its mouth, with his teeth clenched in a rictus of determination.
Die, Motherfragger! Die!
The snake was making a sound vaguely like a hiss, but horribly as loud as a roaring bear, and mixed with a nasty gurgle. It shuddered and thrashed suddenly, slamming Jack into the wall of the tunnel and then twisting, in the process dropping Jack to be tossed and rolled over by the snake's body. He was numb all over and could see his own skin acid-burned and bloodied where the suit had been eaten through. He couldn’t really move. Meanwhile, the snake was thrashing still, but not moving forward any longer.
Death throes! I killed the sonuvabitch!
Damage is simulating Wound Condition: Mortal. Survival would be unlikely without aid. You would be unconscious. True Fatigue Status is Serious-Unstable. Please cease operations.
Jack let go of his output immediately, though relatively calmly and gradually over a second or two to let the memorite absorb back comfortably. He knew the whole scenario had come to an end. He enjoyed the sight of the slain snake, its body a massive length down the tunnel, blood painting the walls from its wound.
“End Simulation,” came Lindsay’s voice, finally, and from quite a ways off. It had a note of relief, somehow.
Everything vanished. Jack found himself lying and sweating in the dirt down a walking path between the trees of Power Park, blinking in some confusion at where he was, with the track and practice area of dirt further down the path. He sat up and saw Lindsay holding her hands up high, clapping. “Great job, Jack!” she called.
He slowly sat up and gave a high thumbs-up. “Thanks!”
Your Level has improved to 1.5! Please enter the trance and Calibrate, as this changes your total Allotment.
Temporary Control grade increased to 1.6!
Temporary Transmute grade improved to 0.7!
Temporary Control: technique grades have been adjusted.
Control: Cord improved to 0.6(0.4)!
Special Technique gained: Fragile Spike.
Even knowing he’d done something pretty awesome, Jack was surprised by the gains, most especially by a ‘Special Technique’ when Lindsay had not directly mentioned this as a possibility.
“Yoooo!” Jack called out as he was still sitting on his rear in the dirt. “I got a Special Technique!”
Lindsay was jogging over to him by then. She stopped with her hands out, her eyes going wide. “What?! No!” Her voice was high-pitched in its excitement. “Get out!”
“I can’t get out, because here I am with a Special Technique!”
“Oh my goddess!” Lindsay hopped up with her hands squeezed in front of her. “It’s so rare so early! Jack, Jack, what does it do, what does it do?! What’s the name, what does it do, is it that spear thing — it’s the spear thing! What does it do?! Tell me, Jack! Ahhh!”
“Hold on, hold on,” Jack said around a smile, shaking his head. “Yes, it’s the spear thing, and it’s called Fragile Spike…”
He brought it up momentarily via his interface.
Fragile Spike (General Technique): You can fashion a very sharp point out of memorite or reshaped metal, of variable size. The puncture damage, or effective Force, is improved by 50%, plus 1.0. It is very fragile and will shatter on anything it fails to penetrate, or upon severe strain. Very ineffective against Hardened Armor. Reshaped items cannot gain the benefits of Builders of Great Things.
I think I like the sound of this.
“Well?! Come on, send it to me, damn it!” Lindsay demanded, quickly having run up into his vicinity.
Jack sighed a bit at her but complied, sending the information via their interfaces. “Here you go, oh, Boss Lady Mini,” he muttered. “Looks pretty sick, eh?”
Lindsay had her lips pursed, head nodding in satisfaction as she appeared to peruse the data in her head. She snapped her fingers and pointed. “That’s what we like right there, Jack! Awww yeah!”
Jack grinned up at her. “More specialization for my thrown darts, right?”
“Yes. Or with stabby ends in general. Now, this isn’t too far out there from what you could pull off with some general levels and a bit more Control and such, but it is of significantly improved performance, especially once you’re getting a high base and getting pumped up value from the percentage-based boost. That’s legit sharpness to keep scaling like that. This is a high-value Technique, an authentic stunt tantamount to a Secondary Mutation. Not everyone gets those, period. If they do, one or two most of the time.”
“Like you said, evolution happens as we go. And, well… we should trust Mother, it looks like.”
Lindsay frowned and nodded slowly. “With the crisis-based training? I understood it would work, I just didn’t want you risking permanent damage. Maximum output is very dangerous to screw with. For most. I don’t think Mother fully understood your durability with it until you did what you did. It’s not like the mad science experiment of your powers acquisition and such is well understood. She risked you.”
Jack, wiping sweat off his face briefly, shrugged. “I figured that out already. I accept it.”
Lindsay crossed her arms and glared at him, but the heat of it died, and her eyes shifted to the side. “You did well today. You did what you said you would and stayed disciplined. If you continue to, I’ll accept this, too.”
“I mean, our mutual boss is all but commanding it.”
Lindsay raised her chin. “Don’t underestimate my ability to stomp my foot and get my way with Mother, on occasion. I have quite a bit of clout, thank you very much.”
Jack chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that. You kind of owe me a favor anyway.”
“What are you talking about?!”
“Well, for the steak, you never got me that meeting with Stitcher.”
“Dude, she’s busy! It’ll happen eventually!”
Jack did a bit of a wince as he shook his head slowly. “Mmmmn, nah. I think you’ve accrued favor interest. You owe me a little extra at this point.”
Lindsay glared down at him with her fists on her hips and scoffed incredulously. “Pfft! I can’t believe this! Are you serious right now?!”
Jack kept his face very straight as he nodded with narrowed eyes.
Lindsay threw up her hands. “Fine, then! I owe you a small favor, you greedy lump.”
“Real rich coming from the girl that forces me to buy her expensive desserts just about every damn day.”
Lindsay leaned down toward him with her brows raised. “Maybe stop being so slow and you won’t have to, hmm?” She cocked her head to the side with an overall expression of great sass.
They mutually glared at each other for a period like a stand-off. Eyes narrowed. Then Jack broke with a snort, which caused Lindsay to immediately break and giggle, and then they were both laughing briefly.
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