Chapter 29: Handle With Care

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Handle With Care

Jared took his hand off the car.

’What am I doing?’

’I’m not feeding my mother’s car to an ant. That’s insane.’

[Oh, thank goodness.]

"I wasn’t actually going to do it."

[You seriously were going for it. You put your hand on it. You had the look.]

"I was thinking."

[You were thinking with your fists.]

He stepped back from the driveway, jaw tight, and turned toward the training ring. The AntBeast was still sitting where he’d left it, round belly glistening, antennae drooping with disappointment.

It had clearly been looking forward to dinner.

"Sorry, buddy," Jared said. "Not tonight."

The ant gave a small, mournful sigh.

He held out a hand. The AntBeast dissolved into a swirl of light and dropped into his palm as a gem. He tucked it back into the pouch with a pat.

’I can’t train with it. Not without the right materials. It’s just going to fire sparklers all night.’

So he needed a different beast. One that didn’t depend on fuel. One that could pack a punch from a distance.

His fingers drifted through the pouch, over a stone, until they found something it. He pinched it between two fingers and drew it out.

It was a tiny, glowing speck of white light.

"Starfire," he whispered.

[Careful with that one.]

"I’m being careful."

[You’re being theatrical.]

He crouched, laid the speck on the dirt, and let go.

It bobbed lazily. It spun in a slow circle. And it made a sound.

BZZZZZZZZ.

Jared flinched.

It sounded exactly like a mosquito. A big, fat, happy mosquito buzzing around his ear. He swatted at it on instinct. The Starfire dodged, zipped up out of reach, and hovered above his head, buzzing smugly.

"Don’t do that," he muttered.

BZZZZ.

[It’s saying hello.]

"It’s saying ’I’m going to fly into your ear.’"

[It’s complicated.]

He straightened up, cracked his neck, and glanced down at the armor still wrapped around his body. The green plates shifted with a soft rustle. He lifted his chin.

"Okay. Same plan. I’m testing the suit. I want you to fire at me."

The Starfire hovered in place.

"But not yet. Charge up first. Take your time."

BZZZ?

"Properly. Fully. I want to see what you’ve got."

[Rex. Are you sure?]

"I’m testing the durability."

[Of a suit made out of swamp. Against a miniature sun.]

"That’s the point."

[That’s an interesting point.]

He took a few steps back, planted his boots in the dirt, and squared his shoulders.

He didn’t give the order right away.

He let the Starfire hover. He let it breathe. The buzzing deepened into a low, steady hum, and the air began to tremble.

Jared watched, holding his breath.

The glow swelled. It grew from the size of an eye to the size of a fist, then a head, then a melon. T

he light turned from white to gold, and from gold to a searing. The ground began to vibrate. Dust lifted in a slow ring around the ring. The windows of the house rattled in their frames.

’It’s still charging.’

[It’s going to charge for a while. Remember Its full capacity is equal to an active sun.]

"I know."

[You may want to stand further back.]

"I’m fine."

[You’re not fine.]

He kept his stance, though his knees were beginning to shake.

The charge went on for a long time. It felt like minutes, though it might have been seconds. The Starfire was no longer a speck. It was a glowing orb the size of a car, and it pulsed slowly, hungrily, like a heart.

"Now," Jared said hoarsely.

The Starfire fired.

It was like the sky itself opened.

A column of white gold light erupted from the orb in a silent, shattering rush. It tore across the yard in a single blinding line.The clouds turned bright for a moment.

Jared saw it coming.

He threw both hands up in front of his face.

It was a stupid, instinctive gesture. A child shielding himself from a falling wall. He knew, even as he did it, that it wouldn’t help. The blast hit the gorilla armor, and the whole suit screamed.

The bark plates cracked. The vines on his forearms began to curl and blacken. The moss on his chest flaked away in burning strips.

The armor was being peeled away. Layer by layer, plate by plate, it was coming off him, shredded by pure, unfiltered light.

’It’s going through.’

[REX!]

"Redirect it!" he screamed. "Starfire, redirect! Up! Now!"

The little light, a speck again somewhere inside that blinding glare, flinched.

The beam bent.

It swung upward, slicing away from him in a long, curving arc, and shot into the sky. It punched through the clouds. It carved a bright, burning scar across the night, then vanished somewhere above the horizon in a final blinding flash.

Jared stood in the middle of the yard, smoking.

His armor hung off him in tatters. A few scorched strips of bark clung to his shoulders. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely close them. A thin trail of steam rose from his hair. He took a breath, and it came out in a rattling gasp.

He looked up.

The Starfire hovered above him, small and white and innocent again, buzzing softly. It looked a little guilty.

"That..." Jared whispered. He swallowed. "That could have killed me."

[Yes.]

"That would have killed me."

[Yes. Quite thoroughly.]

He started to laugh.

Not long after a neighbor’s light flicked on across the street. A curtain twitched. A dog started barking in earnest.

[Mana: 58,917]

A new panel flickered in front of him.

[It cost you 32,723. That’s the most you’ve ever spent.]

"Really?"

[By a lot.]

He straightened up, still grinning, his eyes bright and a little wild. He looked up at the buzzing speck above his head. His smile only grew wider. He raised his hand upward in a victory pose.

"So that’s the ranged option I’ll be using," he said. "For the meantime."

BZZZZ.

"Starfire’s small. Easy to carry. Easy to hide. And it’s strong." He closed his fingers gently around the light. "That’s perfect."

[It’s also capable of killing you.]

"I’ll work on that."

He took a slow breath, rolled his shoulders, and let it out.

"Okay. That’s enough for tonight." He lifted his chin. "I want to go inside. Unsummon both."

The Starfire dimmed. The gorilla armor loosened and began to peel away. Both beasts folded in on themselves in a swirl of green and white light, shrinking, collapsing, and then there were two small gems tumbling through the air toward him.

[Look at you,] the system said, as the gems flew. [Using two beasts in tandem. Testing durability. Planning your next move. You’re getting confident. It’s adorable. You’re covering grounds. ]

Jared paused, one hand half raised.

"Wait."

[...running multi beast drills at 2 am. I’m proud. Truly. I’m...]

"Wait."

The gems were still flying toward him, glinting in the moonlight.

They flew.

That was what happened to a beast when it was unsummoned. The gem flew back to its master. It was the rule. It was how everything worked. And there had been the one gem, in the forest, that had flown towards him but got caught before it reached it’s destination.

’The owl.’

He stared at the gems.

"No," he said.

He snapped his fingers. "No. Summon them back."

The gems stopped mid air. A flash. A flare. Both beasts reappeared in the yard, the Starfire hovering, the gorilla armor sliding over him again with a rustling, wet sigh.

"Okay." Jared exhaled. "Okay. Let’s try this again."

He walked across the dirt to the Starfire. It was a tiny, bright speck, hovering at shoulder height. He cupped one hand under it, then closed his palm gently over the top, so the light was held inside his fist.

"Unsummon," he said.

The Starfire dimmed. It shrank, and a small, warm gem settled in his palm. It hadn’t flown anywhere. It hadn’t gone through the air. It had turned into stone right there, in his hand, safely out of reach of anything that might swoop down and snatch it.

’That’s better.’

He did the same with the SwampGorilla. He didn’t let it unsummon until his fingers were pressed against its chest, until he was in touching range. When the armor loosened and slid away, the gem formed against his palm in a slow, damp pulse, and he caught it before it could go anywhere.

[That’s smart.]

"It’s the only way." He thought of the ground dragon before speaking again.

"I don’t want to lose another one."

[No,] the system said, softer. [I don’t think you do.]

He stood there for a moment, a gem in each hand, thinking about the gorilla. He had been calling it a close range fighter, but that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t only a suit. It released gases, he remembered, all kinds of them. Some burned. Some froze. Some, according to the god of transmigration, had a different effect entirely.

’It’s an SSS rank beast. It probably doesn’t have a real limit.’

The thought was strangely comforting. He tucked the gems into the pouch, tied it shut, and gave it a firm pat.

His stomach growled.

It was a loud, long, rolling growl, the kind you could hear from across a room. He winced and pressed a hand to his belly.

"I need to eat something," he muttered.

[You just ate yesterday.]

"That was hours ago."

He was also still sort of tired. His eyes felt gritty. His shoulders sagged. The adrenaline was draining out of him, leaving a deep, heavy weariness in its wake.

[It’s just that you’ve barely done anything,] the system said. [A few explosions. A little near death experience. And you want to eat already?]

Jared ignored it.

He turned toward the house, boots dragging, one hand on the pouch at his belt.

He pushed open the back door and went inside.