Chapter 272 – 8

When you don’t visit your windowless secret underground research room for a week, the glowstones run out of power, and so does the magical device that keeps the air fresh. Pitch-blackness, filled with the stale taste of stagnant air, was not the most welcoming thing, but perhaps Maci Winters had run out of power, too? The silence, only broken by her and Hyacinth’s breathing, was a good sign there.

[Renew Spirit] mixed with [Cold Touch] to produce one of Harmony’s signature balls of light, created from the luminescent healing energy trapped within a misty haze of ice and water.  Even dim, the sudden addition was slightly blinding in the darkness, despite only casting light a few feet around her.  

Eyes adjusted, Marci’s metallic polished face gleamed way too close to where Harmony stood. The metallic cone of a gnome horn rested perfectly on its head, less gruesome without the fresh blood. Was it powered dow..? “Thank you for subscribing to facts about my wonderful hat! Designed by the centurion fashion designer Mugatu, it is worth its weight in tier-four skill stones. Dousing it with flammable phoenix bone extract must be done playfully! Here’s an advanced version of my hat description…”

“Quiet, Marci.” Harmony snapped at the long string of rapid words.

“I appreciate the pushback. This phrase comes only from me!” The undead answered.

At least the potential soulless accepted the order and kept quiet as Harmony went about renewing the glowstones and adding mana to the ward-device that refreshed the air. Every light lit revealed more of a disaster that greeted her. How many days away had it taken for this spirit to start messing with her things?

Marci hadn’t directly messed with any of her active projects, showing some awareness within its madness. The little corner where she’d worked on gnomes, killing and resurrecting them, sat untouched. The space where Harmony tried to infuse bits of metal with fearful intent using [Mend] and [Shadowed Graves], a play at simulating her tools' violent intent but with skills rather than the mess that created her blood sickle in the Ascendant Games, was left alone. The slivers of black metal sat in rows unmoved, even as a failed project. Blood might be key again, but it was too early to start down that path. Her jars of skills, sitting in liquid fate she'd gotten from Hexio Curie, waited to be poked and prodded; only gathered dust. She’d collected two complete sets of the guards from Oorty’s tomb’s abilities. Even now, one of Clanker's skills, [Fearsome Pinch], sat preserved by [Claim the Remains of Power], ready to be deposited in one of the empty jars for further study.

The inactive bits, scrap metal, garbage bins, leftover snacks, drawing utensils, and some tools she’d gathered but not used were all taken and repurposed. The results were creative madness. One side of the room had been redecorated using mostly items Harmony had placed in the rubbish. If you were to call what Marci made art, you would call it slop. Two garbage sculptures of her and Marci stood holding hands, but where Harmony’s left hand had three fingers and the right seven. Smeared dried rodent intestines made a flower on the wall, but more interesting was the scraped grooves on what had been a rusted but mostly smooth wall.  

The line work was similar to the patterns she’d adapted to Marci’s superstructure when connecting the contract, body, skull, and power sources, mixed with a bit of ward work. Magically sound or pure nonsense? From what little she’d picked up during Defense Against the Forbidden Arts, this could be something activated in parts even where bits were scribbles and others seemed inspired; there were no obvious points of failure.

“What’s this, Marci?” Harmony asked.

“Vibe casting. And that is a moldy loaf of bread!” The undead construct answered, pointing to a hammer.

Marci didn’t have mana in her system; the container Harmony constructed was scraped clean of functional soul organs as a safety precaution, and if it was soulless, the only energy filling it was the undead energy from the batteries she’d designed from Adric’s blood.  [Mana Rotation] for its detection ability didn’t catch any in the grooves, and Harmony wasn’t going to add any. Just the thought of shoving mana where it didn’t belong made her hand itch where the tattoo used to be. Talk about meddling.

No, this required an expert. The apes would be perfect, but that would mean confessing her hobbies to Von Trell. There was one man with a background in ward work and magic who might have an opinion on this who was now under her employ half a world away.

[Recall] worked to capture everything, to transfer over later.

“What does this do, Marci?”

“HATS!” It yelled in its honeyed voice and started running around the room like a hyperactive child.

Holding in a groan, it wasn't yet time to decommission this experiment, as annoying as it acted.  If Flint Steelheart chose to hunt her down, maybe Marci Winters would be his trophy instead of the other options. “Time for a full evaluation of your systems. Can you please come here and stand still?”

It took asking three more times for the construct to comply, each time with an extra weight of necromancy added to her voice. Marci’s simulated necrotic cores pumped out undead energy at the same rate they had when installed; the only difference was the spray of blood she’d used to counter the potentially explosive problem in her creation had fused into the system on a permanent necromantic level.

Every station got a review. The fear-enhanced metal had lost much of its initial weak potency. There needed to be a better system of locking it into the metal. The advantage of the sickle being an extension of herself was that it continually refreshed violent intent by the constant metaphysical connection.

The collected skills from the dungeon were nearly perfectly preserved. It was a different kind of preservation than she’d used in the Ascendant games, where a battery was created to keep it running; here it was more a state of suspension with liquid fate locking it in place. Maybe a few drops of the material could be used for the next round of experiments on the metal? Right now the only source of that material was Hexio Curie, and becoming overly reliant on one person could present future problems. It’s not like this could be replicated back in Hazeldown. It could be time to re-explore what worked elsewhere.  Taking out the guardian's skill, Harmony placed it in a jar of the liquid and labeled it.

As much as she wanted to spend more time here, a su-primus missing for longer and longer periods might cause questions. Where is she? Who is she with? Would she need to find an accomplice to fake a relationship with? That would satisfy one kind of curiosity, or maybe a string of men, as that worked for Adric with women and kept the boy busy?

“Grreep,” Hyacinth complained, bored, reminding her for the third time today that she’d promised this trip wouldn’t take too long, and they had places to be.

“Fine,” Harmony answered him and turned to Marci. “I want you to be on your best behavior,” Harmony ordered with a thick layer of necromantic power.

“The bestest!” Marci replied.

Hyacinth took her out of her lab, making the jumps needed to get to the end of the dark alleyway in Ricort’s slums. The man who waited wasn’t invited, but neither was he unexpected with all that had been going on.  

“Bantz,” Harmony acknowledged with a nod, greeting her lair’s landlord.

The currently tall man nodded back. “Should I congratulate you on your rise?”

“I’d rather you not. You’re someone who understands how inconvenient attention can be.” Community leader or criminal, Bantz demonstrated his worth and discretion so far. Harmony hadn’t traveled in the direction of finding out about him, trusting their relationship built on potential favors, from her previous experience living in a similar environment. This visit might soon end that respect for his privacy, even if asking questions could cause trouble.  The line between the value in saying that you don’t or didn’t know when questioned while under truth detection and being fully informed so you could plan or take action was a thin one that shifted as much as Bantz changed himself based on where in the city he operated.

“And useful.” He responded with the friendly smile of a long-time companion, which he wasn’t. “You’re going to get an invitation to a party at the Mayor’s house. Accepting it will benefit you greatly.”

“The favor?” Harmony asked.

“No, I won’t force you with that. You can refuse, but I think you’ll find it informative. Your little association will get plenty of invites. You can bow out of some politics, but not all, so consider this one a recommendation from a concerned citizen with your best interests at heart. And hiding away often draws extra attention to things like your free time, so it is best to appease interested parties a little.”

“And this personal attention from you won’t draw attention to us both?” Harmony asked.

Batz chuckled. “Me, I just came down this alleyway to take a piss.” To prove his point, he moved to the corner, pulled down his pants, and released a stream against the wall.  

Avoiding rolling her eyes or sighing in exasperation,  Harmony let Hyacinth take her away for a quick change of clothing and reapplying her fiery blue flair, as her team should be waiting.

The Crusty Clanker was close enough to The Academy campus that its customers were mostly students. Outside, a mostly complete shell of the first-floor boss sat as decoration. This giant metal crab had scorch marks and even a few patches of red sprinkled in from the crystals of rust on the shell.

“Is that the su-primus?” The young girl behind the counter asked the boy working the flat metal grill as meat sizzled.

“I told you that it was her team that booked the room in the back.”

Harmony pretended she couldn’t hear the exchange as she waited in line. The two private booths the restaurant had were why they’d selected it.  “One crusty combo,” Harmony ordered, dropping a handful of copper hex on the counter.  “You can deliver it to the back.”

In that room, “Harmony!” Xera yelled, getting up to give her a hug.

Alex and Tasha raised their drinks.

Tun-knee growled a little.

“Sorry, I’m late. I got a bit distracted.” Harmony apologized.  

“It’s been a long week.” Alex agreed.

Harmony took a seat; now that they had some privacy, it was time to make amends. “Again, I’m sorry for messing up. How exactly has my new ranking and keyholder leak affected you this week, and how can I help?”  Hopefully, their requests wouldn’t be too extreme.

“My cooking class would like to make you a meal, and Shin, who you replaced, would like to meet you,”  Tun-Knee answered first.

The fact that the beast-kin handler was pressured at all by someone not from Zotaria was a tad surprising. [Poise and Bearing] had to keep the shock off of Harmony’s face. Loap’s explanation of his role hadn’t eliminated the possibility that he could suffer the pressures of politics that happened when going to a foreign school. She’d merely assumed he had more protection from such things. The tiger had to be working on progressing towards his next evolution.  

“My family is sending someone to look at my  [Two Against] link. They’ll be here next week. Your participation would be helpful.” Xera added.

Tasha socked Alex in the shoulder. 

“I need a date for a party.” Alex yelped out in response to the forceful motivation to speak.

All of these requests seemed like terrible ideas that could cause more trouble. She nudged the profession her soul adopted, stirring it into action. You caused this, and it is up to you to fix it.  “Whatever I can do to help. Let’s talk about scheduling.” It was time to clean up a mess; maids and erasers should be good at that.

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