My legs are still broken. Odysseus is bleeding a lot. We spend several minutes taking care of our wounds.
The ground all around me is scattered with metal debris that seems to ooze oil and... Mercury? Probably some robot monster goo. The new amendment to keep monster corpses around longer means we have to find some vital organ and destroy it. I locate the helmeted robot head, stab it with stuff, and all the robot parts disappear. What's left behind is pretty interesting.
Unity Matrix. This contains the data to make you a leader of your people. Only usable once.
Jet Lance. A rocket lance. Doesn't need fuel.
Jet Pack. Self explanatory. Speed depends on your Dexterity.
I guess the combination changed its item drops? Anyway, the Unity Matrix is a glowing dodecahedron that's about the size of a soccer ball. The Jet Lance has thruster nozzles around its widest part. And the Jet Pack looks like a backpack-sized F-14, minus the cockpit, which is pretty damn cool.
I take the Unity Matrix for Jose, with everyone agreeing. Mercy takes the Jet Lance and it shifts in color from white with a red handle to cobalt blue with a white handle. I'm not sure how she can do that. The jet pack...
“Who wants in on the Jet Pack?” I ask.
Quins, Ivy and Odysseus all raise their hands. I pull out my digital die roller and prepare for a roll off. Quins gets only a 2, Ivy gets a 4 and Odysseus improbably gets a 3, meaning Ivy now has a JetPack. She puts it on, flies up, crashes, then Odysseus heals her broken arm.
The flight tests continue as I sit down and go into menus to log all of today's levels.
I had earned three levels before, and got six more just now, for a total of nine levels. I put one level into Toxicologist to bring it to 10, where I need it to be to unlock various 5th step classes. That gives me eight levels to slide into my next destination, Dead Eye.
Dead Eye
The master Gunner, the expert Sniper, the peerless shot.
A fourth step class. Three subclasses. Unknown class evolutions.
Gain 5 Dexterity, 5 Luck and 5 Ki upon choosing this class.
You must choose a Subclass upon choosing this class.
One subclass specific technique will be granted to you upon choosing this class.
Uses Ki, Dexterity and Reflexes.
Upon level up an additional basic, advanced, expert or master shooting technique will be granted until all master and lower shooting techniques are granted. A subclass specific technique will be granted every even numbered level. Each level you gain 2 Dexterity, 2 Luck, 3 Ki and 8 free points.
Subclasses
Hellscape - Your ranged attacks gain fire effects.
Wasteland - Your ranged attacks gain earth effects.
Glacial - Your ranged attacks gain ice effects.
I have to choose a subclass. I ask Mercy. “Hey, so I have to choose fire, earth or ice powers for my next class. What do you think is best?”
Mercy plops down next to me and transforms into her gym clothes, a red skirt over black bike shorts and a baby blue tank top. She's wearing a sports bra so the cleavage is moderate. “You have way too much fire already.”
“Fair enough.” I've recovered my armor so I'm in the Sky Dragon armor once again.
“And you never use earth. Only sometimes ice. You should either take earth to give you a reason to use earth, or ice to improve that angle.” She leans over and rests her head against my armored shoulder.
Odysseus looks over at us with concern. “Hey, don't get too close to the Scourge man.”
“Being careful,” Mercy points at herself. “Even though I need to kiss him real good.”
Odysseus hangs his head. I get it. The newly divorced guy doesn't appreciate our affection levels right now.
I put eight levels into Dead Eye, choose the Glacial subclass, and get some icy powers some of which, as I watch, turn into Lunar powers.
Lunar Bullets
Create a clip or rounds of Lunar projectiles.
Duration: 1 hour
Cooldown: 1 hour
Proficiency: 0%
Crystal Shot
Your shot creates a crystallized patch on the target.
Duration: 10 seconds
Cost: 10 Ki Points
Proficiency: 0%
Lunar Bullet Storm
Fire a splintering Lunar shot that forms into a cloud of slashing crystal fragments on impact.
Duration: 10 seconds
Cost: 25 Ki Points
Proficiency: 0%
Dead Ice
You deal 25% more damage to partially frozen or crystallized targets, and 100% more damage to fully frozen or crystallized foes.
Passive
Proficiency: 0%
Slow Frost
Enemies suffering from your freezing and crystallized effects are also Slowed.
Passive
Proficiency: 0%
So basically: hit people, inflict crystalize, profit. Crystal Shot seems like a good attack to use especially when I'm wielding multiple weapons, a style Lunar form favors anyway. Landing stacking crystalize effects sure seems like a solid plan. Get it? Solid plan? Eh? No? Fine.
-----
7/18
Hollywood Sign dungeon
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
4:00 PM
After a while Ivy has gotten the hang of the jet pack. I stand back from the group, de-armor, then I pop the question. “Studio 16 or call it for the day?”
Odysseus, Quins and Ivy give each other looks. Quins speaks for them. “Look mate, I know you and lady Iron Man can stand toe to toe with the big fellas, but we can't. Sure, we can support, but honestly mate, any of those buggers coulda squashed us like grapes.”
Ivy especially looks nervous at the idea of moving forward. “Bro, I just got this sick jet pack and don't want to die yet.”
Mercy gives her a hug.
“Fine,” I say, displaying faux grumpiness. “We'll just spend the rest of the day with an airship.” I pull the airship out of my inventory and we explore it.
The Broken Crow airship is the prow and forecastle (pronounced foksal) of a medium-sized ship, the main deck and quarterdeck of a large ship then the main deck and quarterdeck of a small ship. The result is a ship that, from the side, looks like a whale. Medium-large-small. It also looks like shit, the three parts hastily bolted together. The whole thing is about 80 feet long and 30 feet at its widest, plus about 35 feet tall, not including the masts/propellers.
Interestingly, while from outside the ship, it counts as one object. Once in or on the ship, individual parts can be System Scanned. I explore around, rummage through the center part of the ship and come to a few conclusions.
The engine is built around the center mast, with copper pipes running fore and aft towards the other two masts. I'm pretty sure we can replace everything except the masts and engine works.
The engine itself seems to not use fuel. It's got a large, football sized crystal rotating under a glass dome to “power” it. I'm pretty sure it's just Dracosys bullshit magic powering it and not anything real. Wait, magic it is real now. Shit. You know what I mean. The engine is also pretty quiet, as are the propellers up top. Almost like they're just magical bullshit, and not actually adhering to physics.
There's electrical wires coming out of the engine, and, after some light electrical engineering I figure out the wattage and hook up several power outlets to it. It's powerful enough for anything household-level, but can't power anything industrial or commercial. Getting a basic electrician’s kit delivered to a dungeon was surprisingly cheap.
We clear out all the ninja pirate stuff, which consists of a lot of bandanas, rusty cutlasses, black masks and shuriken. None of them seem useful so we chuck it all in the bottom of the ship, along with bedding and other shit. The bottom is just a long open room. The floor above, which is right under the deck, is also wide open. There are cannons here, ready to be pushed out gun holes. We test a cannon. It is fucking loud as shit.
The forecastle is where you actually pilot the ship from. It's got big front and side facing windows, the wheel, a few controls for speed and elevation, a captain's chair and a few other stations. It's like ye olde Star Trek.
The middle section contains the engine room, galley, map room and some other utilitarian rooms. The map room contains dozens of copies of one map, charting out the area around Cuba. So, uh, cool I guess? We clear out a couple of useless rooms and intend on making those private bunks.
The back section contains three bedrooms, each more fancy than the last. It's also the only area with a bathroom, which includes a tub. The running water seems to come from absolutely nowhere, and the drains don't seem to connect to anything either. Nanomachines!
Aside from the ineffable stuff, the Broken Crow (changing that name as soon as I get it repainted) is going to be super useful. After we clean it up we order delivery from a hardware store to get some more tools and then Ikea for living arrangements. It's still missing a lot of pieces it needs to be really livable.
When I pull out the ship in the first dungeon studio area it gets quite a reaction from the Navy guys and gals. Also, apparently the floor beneath the main deck has a side door that opens and a gang plank we can deploy. That'll make things easier for the non-super Agile among us (Ivy and Odysseus.)
We spend the rest of the night building furniture that looks entirely anachronistic in the ship. The desks and beds we got for the middle part of the ship look sleek and modern while the rooms they're in are, uh, pirate ship rooms.
Also I get a TV. Who doesn't want to watch Pirates Of The Caribbean on an actual pirate ship?
We order food and supplies. We get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as I can get while wearing armor 75% of the time. We settle into what's going to be our mobile home for at least a few days, but honestly, probably more than that. IT'S A FRIGGIN AIRSHIP! There's no way I'm not using this all the time.
And yes, I still have the Jefferson Airplane. It's just that it requires a runway and can't be parked 20 feet over a parking lot while we live inside it. I should probably just sell it. This thing is like a damn flying mobile home.
-----
7/18
Broken Crow, parked inside the Hollywood sign dungeon.
11:15 PM
“Should I sell the Jefferson Airplane?” I ask Mercy as we sleep in separate beds in one of the bunk rooms.
She looks up similar private jets. “Probably for around 100 mil or more. Ooh, what if we got one of those fancy rich guy auctions that has Saudi Princes and other billionaires at it.”
“Uh, do you know how to arrange that?”
Mercy air flicks me. “No, dummy. But I know who to call about it. The Brits. Quins probably knows someone.”
“I'm pretty sure the only salesmen Quins knows are the kind who buy stolen lawn equipment.”
“You're no fun at all!”
“That's not what you said last time I gave you a back rub.”
She shakes a finger at me. “You can't use that against me. It's not my fault I got a ripped BTS boy for a boyfriend.”
“One, I can and will use it against you. Again. Two, I'm not that good looking.”
“You are.” She slides her eyes down my bare chest. I do have a pretty muscular body now. All lean muscles, to be clear. And she looks at my face. “I could stare at this face all day.”
“My brother's the good looking one.” My older brother Ken Han (not his real name) is on one of those cop TV shows where everyone is super hot. In it he's always finding reasons to lift his shirt and show off his abs. Gotta wipe off dirt? Use the shirt. Too much sweat on his face? Use the shirt. Unfortunate water spill? Use the shirt.
“You have sad, soulful eyes,” she says.
“That's just the depression.”
“You have slightly pouty lips.” She blows me a kiss.
“That's from an allergic reaction to drinking water.”
“And you have this long, thin neck.” She likes kissing my neck. The space between us suddenly feels like an ocean. An ocean I want to rip in half to get to my girlfriend.
I roll my head slightly. “O-okay, you can have that point.”
“And,” she says, drifting into a dreamy haze. “you're crazy about me.”
“Very fair.” I stare into her cute, beautiful face. A face I could stare into for hours.
“Even though I'm not...”
“You're not what?” I ask, incredulous that she could be anything less than wonderful.
She points at her purple hair. “Not normal. Not perfect.”
“You're perfect for me.” I just want to put my hands on her. Pull her to me.
She blushes. When that pink seeps into her brown cheeks it drives me crazy. It's just barely noticeable, but I notice. I notice every time.
She pulls the blanket up, covering half her face. She does this when she's nervous. “You were already hot before.” She turns away from me. “And then you got even hotter! It's not fair!” Still turned away from me she says, “and then we started fighting together! And it's really fun!”
“And... I like spending every day with you now. And I like your Denver omelets. And I like how you keep trying to win my parents over. And I like how you couldn't really fight your brother. How you treat everyone equally. How you don't take yourself seriously, but you take others seriously. How you... How you see me. That always gets me.”
“I see you as you are,” I say. “The coolest, sexiest, cutest, smartest, strongest, awesomest girl I've ever seen.”
She presses her back against the wall, finally facing me again. “That's why,” she says. “That's the real reason.”
I know what she means.
We stare at each other, both wanting so, so badly to touch the other person. To hold each other like we normally do. To press her back against my chest as we fall asleep. To kiss each other. To feel each other's bodies in ways that make it seem like we were designed to fit together.
Six feet separate me and the love of my life. Six feet and a disease that might kill me.
-----
7/19
Broken Crow, parked inside the Hollywood sign dungeon.
8:25 AM
“So that's the situation,” I say into my phone. I'm on with Jose. I texted him details yesterday, but I did some math and figure I can crank out the levels I need with around 4 days of dungeon diving. We're going to have to clear at least the 15th floor every day to reset my Scourge timer. And with each reset the dungeon will adapt the robots to better fight us.
“Also,” I say with nonchalance, “Mercy asked me to marry her.”
“Oh, finally,” is Jose's unsurprised reply.
“Thanks for the enthusiasm,” I say.
“She asked me if it was a good idea so I already knew it was coming.”
I look over at her across the table where she's eating a Denver omelet. “You asked Jose first?” I say to her.
She swallows eggs. “He's your closest family member, so yep!”
Jose says to me, “she's exactly what you need. Someone really clingy.”
“I don't know if that's an insult or not.”
He says, “just facts. You lost your mom, got ignored by your father and older brother. Your younger brother is up his own ass with self importance. You need someone who needs you. And she needs someone she can trust implicitly. That's you.”
“You've obviously thought more about my relationship than I have.”
There's a pause. “Sorry, you can't see my shrug. But I read the novels Amy recommends. Emily Henry is pretty good. She's always writing about how people fit together. Not like puzzle pieces. Maybe Tetris pieces? You don't complete each other. You complement each other, and together you fit into the world better.”
I think about Jose starting to move on. I think about my need to be needed. For a long time I guess I've been hanging around Jose since he liked having me around. I felt wanted. I think about being asked to join Brian's Pathfinder game. Being able to make the others laugh made me feel like I had a place there.
I think about Mercy. We not dated for six months, and during that time we got to know each other really well. Before we ever kissed, before we even held hands, we knew each other's family situations, our favorite movies and foods. We knew how we stood on politics, unions and space travel. She got to know me, to trust me. And I felt wanted. I felt like she wanted me as a friend.
She wants me. She chooses me. She wants this life, this crazy life, with me.
Is that it? Am I really so simple? I want to be wanted, to be needed? Is that why saving people at the Get! made me feel so... Good? Like I actually was important to someone. Like me being around mattered. Jose is right. My family doesn't really need or want me around.
I need to be needed. Mercy wants me. Mercy needs me. I don't understand everything yet, but I feel like I'm getting closer.
1,000 stars. That rings in my head again. That dream I had in the R-32 dungeon, where I dreamt that Mercy was being taken away and I needed to conquer the stars to save her. 1,000 stars and... Five heavens. Does that mean the five Dracosys creators?
“The water pressure in the sink is terrible,” Mercy says, rinsing off our breakfast plates. “Also there's no microwave or dishwasher. The oven is old fashioned but we can probably replace it, if you install another outlet in here.”
The 1,000 stars and five heavens can wait. “Jose I gotta go,” I say, hanging up. I say to Mercy, “guess we better find out if the nearest Get! delivers to dungeons.”
