“So Jersey Shore is still on the table?” I asked, steering the conversation back from a cliff made of corpses and organ harvesting.

  “Yes,” was Sabrina’s reply, “But it might be too dangerous. You said the Serenoids had a spontaneous world portal, and they were clearly cultivators. That means that the entire area had to have been soaked in incredibly strong essence, and there’s not a cultivator born that could resist planting a few spirit herbs in an environment like that unless they had no alchemy culture at all.”

  “Of course, that level of natural essence also means spirit beasts, extremely powerful ones, which is probably why so many Kaiju and beasts attack from the north. There might even be natural treasures, but that place likely spawns Kaiju like maggots from a corpse. It is a high-risk, high-reward scenario. Mostly high-risk.”

  I chuckled, “You have such wonderful and sensual turns of phrase. I want you, now. My very own morbid little alchemist.”

  “What?” she squeaked, the static pitching higher.

  “Joking, sorry. My sense of humor curdled sometime around my first existential crisis. I still don’t know who to talk to about getting permission, but at this point, I am wondering if forgiveness might be easier than permission.”

  Sabrina sighed, and her voice sounded almost reproachful despite the digital garble. “It might be better to simply wait for the semester break and have a little patience. We don’t have a lot of time, but we do have some time. Rushing into a Kaiju-infested supernatural hot zone rarely ends well outside of action movies.”

  “Are you telling me you think I am too weak to keep us protected during Kaiju attacks if we go hunt spirit herbs?” I asked, laying on the faux indignation thick.

  Sabrina stammered, “Umm… n… no?” She was a terrible liar. I appreciated that in a multi-dimensional alchemist.

  I chuckled, “Relax. I agree. I am just trying to be proactive, since I am sick of being reactive. Do that, go here, get kidnapped, go to school, I feel like my life is being lived by other people. I’m just the guy along for the ride, occasionally providing cynical commentary.”

  Katie looked at me slyly, “Well, you COULD work on my team’s suits like you promised. That’s proactive.”

  I glared at her, though the effect was probably lost behind the mask. “I didn’t promise anything. The judges said that the match was a draw, which means the bet was void unless we have another match. And I am working on them, I just keep hitting a brick wall between what I want to do with them and what I can actually do without a decent software suite. Speaking of which, did Quietcode say anything?”

  She shook her head, “Not yet. She’s super shy, and I think that ‘brooding man of mystery’ thing you seem to cultivate is working against you. She doesn’t trust anyone, but she caught that video of you walking around in your birthday suit, and she thinks you are a dog.”

  “I don’t want to date her! I just need a real coder to help with the suits! The hardware is incredibly custom, and her gift is absolutely perfect! You said she doesn’t even know how to code, and her power just makes computers want to help her, and they program themselves… It’s perfect! Especially since she won’t leave any backdoors for other hackers to get in. She’s basically the anti-me: beloved by machines.”

  Katie shrugged, “Well, you could try being a little social, you know, just as an experiment. You seem like a nice guy underneath all the paranoia and self-deprecating smartass, and maybe getting out a little instead of getting locked into your workroom constantly might help people be a little more comfortable. Just a thought.”

  I groaned and slapped my hand against my face mask, a pathetic attempt at a facepalm. “Not you too! Is there a memo going around? A support group? ‘Get Jake Laid, It Might Improve His Mood’?”

  Katie looked at me oddly, “What do you mean?”

  I sighed and started cycling the room’s cooldown. We both had classes soon, and while neither of us was particularly sweaty—a perk of our respective metabolisms—a shower would be comfortable. “Oh, GG, Terracotta, and Chinook keep saying the same thing. Get out! Go on a date! Hit a few parties! Hell, the only ones that leave me alone are Network and Sabrina, and I’m starting to think that’s just because they’re plotting something.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Sabrina’s voice crackled through our makeshift comms. Damned quantum interference. “Oh, Network wants you to be social too. She wants to date you, but she’s enough of an introvert despite that gregarious act she puts on that she’s not going to ask. And I happen to agree with them, but I owe you too much to pester you about it. Where I come from, many cultivators are extremely solitary. There’s a saying that you can only challenge the heavens on your own.”

  “See? Solitude. It’s a cultural thing. They get it.” I said, feeling vindicated.

  Her voice crackled again. “No, I think they are insane. They are so focused on the solo task of growing their power, expanding their influence, and stepping on anyone who dares to get in their way that they quickly lose touch with any semblance of humanity and turn into monsters, albeit utterly pure and sanctimonious ones. The same person who said that the path to the heavens could only be challenged on your own was also well known for tearing apart an entire city and killing tens of thousands of mortals in a fit of pique because a blacksmith wouldn’t give him a custom piece he ordered for free.”

  Ugh. So much for cultural vindication. “Fine. But I still don’t like the idea of dating alphas. It’s a principle.”

  “Why?” Katie asked, genuinely curious. “Is it the whole ‘unwritten rules’ thing? Fear of reprisals?”

  I shrugged, the motion awkward in the cooling air. “Look, I am overrated. I know it, most people with a functioning brainstem know it. I am only high-rated because I figured out a lot of different uses for my otherwise crappy power. Call me a chauvinist, macho idiot, or whatever, I don’t really care, but the idea of dating a girl that could rip out my spine and beat me to death with it before I could even apologize for forgetting our date is just not my idea of a fun evening.”

  “Are you gay?” she asked, bluntly.

  I shook my head, “No, I have a fragile ego that cannot handle the idea of powerful women. It’s a character flaw. I’m working on it. It’s on the list, right below ‘stop attracting interdimensional kidnappers’ and ‘remember to eat lunch’.”

  “Huh,” Katie said. “That’s… unusually self-aware. I mean, that kinda stuff is bantered around by women all the time, but I have never heard a man just flat-out admit it. Most just get defensive or call you a bitch.”

  I laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Oh, I’ve been called much worse. My ex-fiancée did a full diagnostic workup on my personality flaws. I decided to own them. It takes the power away.”

  “So why not date someone like Network? She’s not a physical alpha at all. She couldn’t rip your spine out. Probably.”

  I grinned, though it felt tight. “That would be even worse. Look. I am an opinionated, overbearing asshole. I know it, I own it… Do you know what Network could do to me if I offended her? She could literally erase my existence from digital records, link me to dozens of unsolved crimes, delete my bank accounts, and put a bounty out on the Vilnet in seconds. All without breaking a sweat or smudging her glasses. Too dangerous. I prefer my threats to be physical. You can punch those.”

  Katie nodded slowly, processing. “So basically, it’s not that you are scared of powerful women, it’s that you have absolutely no trust in their ability to restrain themselves. You are convinced that they are all potential evil bitches that will destroy your life at the slightest provocation, and have zero restraint or common sense. You kind of… expect the worst from them.”

  I sighed, the fight going out of me. “Probably. Maybe. I mean, I don’t actually hate them, and it’s probably idiotic and rooted in one spectacularly bad relationship with an aspiring heroine, but if I were gay, I wouldn’t date alpha men for exactly the same reason. I don’t trust anyone. It’s not a gender thing, it’s a power-corrupts-absolutely thing, and I’ve seen the absolute up close.”

  Katie nodded, her expression unreadable. “You would make a terrible hero. And you want to be a team coordinator? How are you supposed to help an alpha team if you don’t trust them to do their jobs competently? If you think they are all aiming to stab you in the back?”

  I shrugged and opened the door now that the temperature was below one-fifty. “I don’t really know. It’s a problem I have been working on, but as I learn more about how the system works, and more about alphas in general, it’s getting even worse, not better. My paranoia has its own paranoia.”

  Katie looked thoughtful. “Tell you what. I am already working hard on Quietcode. How about this? You already know how to shut my powers down hard. Hell, you have practically been inside my body and my head, and even after the accident, I will freely admit that was almost better than sex. If I can get her to agree to giving your armor systems a shot, how about you reward me by taking me on a date?”

  I laughed, a genuine one this time. “Compelling offer, but there’s one glaring, wallet-shaped problem.”

  “What would that be?”

  I started peeling off my mask, the cooler air feeling like a blessing. “I am completely broke. As in, a full-ride scholarship and meals in the cafeteria every single day broke. My assets were frozen after my ‘villainous’ activities, and my civilian identity has the credit score of a ghost. Right now, I could barely afford to take you out for a hot dog in the park, let alone a date worthy of a Phoenix Team leader. I’d have to pay for the hot dog with exposure.”