Deep underground in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center, John slumped in his chair, his face in his hands. The empty coffee cups and plates had multiplied into a sea of disposable garbage scattered across his desk, one that he really needed to have someone clean up. Haphazard stacks of papers occupied the entire surface of the table, diagrams and blocky text detailing the war efforts underway and how much progress they'd been making.
Things had been looking... ok. Good, even. Until a few hours ago.
He rubbed at his face with annoyance. Of course. They had just managed to get the portals under some semblance of control, so why wouldn't something come along to throw a massive wrench in things?
He barely looked up as General Matthews was allowed into the room. Despite his ramrod-straight posture and stoic bearing, John saw the bags beneath the General's eyes as well. The man was running just as hard as he was, if not harder.
"Report, General."
"Sir," Matthews began. "We have information about the third party that took down a longship."
"What?" John searched his mind for a second. "Oh, that whole thing. I'd nearly forgotten. What about it?"
The General produced a folder and placed it on the desk. Flipping it open, John began to skim its contents. His eyes narrowed, then widened, then finally settled on a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
"...You can't be serious." The president muttered with a groan. "This is who did it?! Not some militia or arms dealer or vigilante group? Just some random musclehead?"
"It seems so, sir." The General nodded. "My men confirmed it firsthand. He caused another earthquake and took down a building this time. We haven't seen anything like it."
John flipped through the report, coming to a screeching halt at a particularly absurd line. “You’re trying to tell me he caused that earthquake with a punch? Is this some kind of joke?"
"No, sir. He really did punch the ground so hard it caused an earthquake."
"That's…" John sighed. "That's some cartoon-level nonsense right there. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me that he can cause a damn tsunami by sneezing…"
Matthews allowed himself a dry chuckle. "I wish. I could use a superpower like that on our side right now."
John slapped the folder back on the table. "Fine. Well, that's something. What do we do about it? Is he on our side?"
"Seems like it. We're already working to bring him on board more formally," the General explained. "However, based on reports, I have a plan I'd like to run by you."
John cocked his head. "What're you gonna do with him? Use him as a human wrecking ball or something?"
"Actually, sir…" A flicker of intensity entered the General's eyes. "You're not too far off."
Matthews began laying out his plan. As he spoke, John's sleep-deprived brain forced itself to take in the information, digesting and evaluating it.
"...That's really your plan?"
"Yes, sir," Matthews confirmed. "It might not work. But with recent developments, capable troops aren’t enough. We need a hail mary. We're already taking too many losses, and if trends continue…"
He let the sentence trail off as John closed his eyes, sinking back into his chair once more. He turned the proposal over in his head. If it didn't work, then there wasn't too much to lose. Just some of their resources in the short term. But if it did…
"Alright." He opened his eyes and met the General's expectant gaze with his own steely one. "Do what you have to do."
"Yessir."
The commander turned to leave. As he reached for the door handle, John called to him. "Matthews?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"
"This is the dumbest idea I've ever heard, " the president said, shaking his head. "But if it works... I owe you a drink."
Matthews just chuckled and nodded to the folder. "I don’t think it’s me you’ll owe, sir."
John looked down at the folder in front of him once more. There, paperclipped to a dossier and detailed report, was a picture of an athletic brown-haired man. He grinned at the camera, giving it a thumbs-up with one disproportionately large arm.
***
Chad came to slowly, still fuzzy and disoriented. He opened his eyes only to squint against the aggressively bright fluorescent lights overhead.
Where am I?
As his vision adjusted, he realized he was lying down in what appeared to be a hospital bed. The sterile white of the walls and ceiling surrounded him, only interrupted by a hanging curtain obscuring one side of the room. An IV trailed from his left arm to a clear pouch hanging nearby.
Chad struggled to piece together his memories. We were at Gram Gram's. We fought off those moles and druids and stuff. And then...
It all snapped into place, flooding back in a moment of recognition. The sudden sneak attack, the searing pain, sailing through the air like a damn missile to save Annie...
Annie.
He sat up sharply, sucking in a pained breath between his teeth. His body ached all over. His eyes darted around the room, quickly settling on the visitor chairs set near the door. There he spotted Annie, her dark hair partially obscuring her face as her head leaned back against the wall. On the chair-back beside her perched Squawkers, shaking himself awake to meet Chad's gaze.
"Wha- he's awake!" Squawkers flapped over to the bed, calling over his shoulder. "Hey, Annie! He's up!"
"Huh? What?" Annie shook herself awake, eyes darting around the room in confusion. "Oh! Finally!"
The pair were at his side in an instant, expressions filled with concern. Chad looked them over quickly, but neither seemed to be injured too badly. A few bandages peeked out from beneath Annie's sleeves, but that was all.
"How're you feelin'?" Annie asked with concern.
"I'm fine," Chad waved her off. "I'm more worried about you guys. You ok?"
"We're fine." Annie nodded. "A couple scratches, nothin' major. Doc's got it taken care of."
"Awesome." He glanced around one more time. "What about Gram Gram?"
"She's safe. She twisted her ankle, but that's all. That constitution helped keep her from breakin' a hip or anythin' worse." Annie smiled.
Chad let out a long breath of relief. If everyone else was ok, that's what mattered. "Good. I was worried. I didn't know if..." Chad paused, finally taking a moment to check himself over. He tried to wiggle his toes, but felt no response.
Annie saw his frown of confusion. The smile slipped from her face. "Er, Chad…"
His mind flashed back to the battle. He hadn't been able to move his legs then, either.... His mouth went dry.
"Annie?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to my legs?"
She let out a long breath, seeming to brace herself. "They're... not in good shape. The doc says you got some severed tendons and muscle both. Those cuts you got went pretty deep. But!" She continued on quickly. "It is fixable! They're sure on that!"
Chad bit his tongue, trying to keep himself from swearing. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I got fucked up pretty bad this time. How am I supposed to protect people if I can't even walk?
That was twice in the past twenty-four hours he'd regretted not putting some kind of focus on his legs. Though perhaps he could still find out what muscles were damaged and heal them with constitution... if he'd leveled up, that is. It all depended on how bad things were.
Chad grimaced at the thought. "How long am I out for?"
Annie set a hand on his chest. "It'll take a while. It's not the quickest recovery, even with skills, but… You'll be out for a week."
Chad blinked. "A week?"
"I know. It's a long time, but…" A pained expression flashed across Annie's features. "I promise we'll do our best to take care of everyone in the meantime. We can't have you goin' out there and hurtin' yourself even more. And with the military involved…"
He couldn't help it. He started laughing.
"What?" Annie frowned in confusion.
"A week?! Annie, a week's nothing!" Chad wiped a tear away from his eye. "C'mon! Shit like this is supposed to take months to heal, at least!"
"Told you he wouldn't take it too bad." Squawkers scoffed. "It's really not that long!"
"You say that, but…" She bit her lip. "It's not lookin' like an easy week here, either. Not with everything goin' on."
Chad acknowledged the point with a shrug. "We've made it this far, haven't we? And you guys handled yourselves pretty darn well back there!"
He glanced up at their tags. Sure enough, they had gained some levels from the encounter. Squawkers was now a Parrot (Lvl 14), while Annie was a Massage Therapist (Lvl 12).
Dang. They're starting to catch up. I'll have to make sure I keep pulling my own weight. As much as I can, at least.
He clenched his fist and looked down at his legs. Suddenly, a week did seem like a long time. Maybe there would be some way for him to help out despite the setback, though. And if worst came to worst, his arm was almost certainly strong enough to make up for his handicap. If he played his cards right.
It won't be that bad. I'll just have to improvise. That, or throw a lot more stuff than before.
Annie shook her head. "Still… I'm sorry. I know it's probably not easy, being stuck in bed like this. I can't imagine what it feels like. But…"
"You kidding?" Chad grinned. "I'm the luckiest guy on the planet! The fact that this is getting fixed so fast is awesome. I'll just have to figure out some way to help out in the meantime."
"Yup!" Squawkers cawed in excitement. "If you ask me, it's a pretty good deal!"
Annie shook her head with a rueful grin. "You don't need to help out, Chad. Let us take care of you for once. Don't push yourself."
"But you said--"
"I know what I said," she cut him off, fixing him with a hard stare. "But that week could be longer if you go doin' somethin' stupid. I won't have you hurtin' yourself even worse by pushin' yourself or tryin' to walk on your fingers or somethin'."
His eyes widened. "Do you think that would work?"
"No." The pair chorused.
The three continued talking for a while, catching Chad up about the events after he'd been knocked out. The rest of the assassins had gone down relatively quickly, though they'd managed to inflict some wounds on the soldiers as well. After that, they'd had to drive quite a way to pick up Chad's battered form and rush to the hospital. Evidently, his little stunt had hurled him at least a mile.
Damn. I'm lucky I don't have a concussion or something. Does Iron Skin protect me from those?
"Oh, that's right." Annie perked up. "The Major wanted to talk once you woke up. That ok, or d'you need more rest?"
"Sure." Chad nodded. "I can talk to him. Where is he?"
"Here, lemme call him." Squawkers's eyes closed for an instant as he focused. "There. Just sent him a message."
"That's still the coolest thing." Chad shook his head. "I've got a talking, psychic parrot. Are you gonna learn to lift things with your mind, too?"
The parrot cackled. "Here's hoping! I'm looking forward to my next skills. Maybe I can do something to make it more likely..."
That reminds me. With a thought, Chad brought up his notifications. He hadn't had a chance to check them since the fight, and as he expected, there were a lot.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 7)! +21 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 5)! +10 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 6)! +15 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 6)! +15 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 7)! +21 Exp.
On and on it went. Evidently, there had been far more moles underground than he'd expected, not to mention all of the snakes and ants. Despite all that though, he'd only managed to earn a single level.
You have reached Level 17!
Rewards:
+3 Stat points
Huh. Guess I'm really not getting a lot for killing weak stuff now. Though with the whole portal situation, I guess it won't be a problem for long...
A few moments later, a knock came at the door. A moment later, the Major stepped into the room, fluorescent lights shining off his bald head. He nodded in greeting. "Glad you're alive, kid. We were worried there for a minute."
"Nah," Chad waved off the concern. "It'll take more than that to kill me."
"Apparently." Major Geoffries snorted. "Well. As much as I'd like to chat, I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point..."
Geoffries pulled up a chair and settled into it, elbows on his knees. "We need to close that portal, and we want your help doing it."
Deep underground in the Presidential Emergency Operations Center, John slumped in his chair, his face in his hands. The empty coffee cups and plates had multiplied into a sea of disposable garbage scattered across his desk, one that he really needed to have someone clean up. Haphazard stacks of papers occupied the entire surface of the table, diagrams and blocky text detailing the war efforts underway and how much progress they'd been making.
Things had been looking... ok. Good, even. Until a few hours ago.
He rubbed at his face with annoyance. Of course. They had just managed to get the portals under some semblance of control, so why wouldn't something come along to throw a massive wrench in things?
He barely looked up as General Matthews was allowed into the room. Despite his ramrod-straight posture and stoic bearing, John saw the bags beneath the General's eyes as well. The man was running just as hard as he was, if not harder.
"Report, General."
"Sir," Matthews began. "We have information about the third party that took down a longship."
"What?" John searched his mind for a second. "Oh, that whole thing. I'd nearly forgotten. What about it?"
The General produced a folder and placed it on the desk. Flipping it open, John began to skim its contents. His eyes narrowed, then widened, then finally settled on a mixture of confusion and disbelief.
"...You can't be serious." The president muttered with a groan. "This is who did it?! Not some militia or arms dealer or vigilante group? Just some random musclehead?"
"It seems so, sir." The General nodded. "My men confirmed it firsthand. He caused another earthquake and took down a building this time. We haven't seen anything like it."
John flipped through the report, coming to a screeching halt at a particularly absurd line. “You’re trying to tell me he caused that earthquake with a punch? Is this some kind of joke?"
"No, sir. He really did punch the ground so hard it caused an earthquake."
"That's…" John sighed. "That's some cartoon-level nonsense right there. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me that he can cause a damn tsunami by sneezing…"
Matthews allowed himself a dry chuckle. "I wish. I could use a superpower like that on our side right now."
John slapped the folder back on the table. "Fine. Well, that's something. What do we do about it? Is he on our side?"
"Seems like it. We're already working to bring him on board more formally," the General explained. "However, based on reports, I have a plan I'd like to run by you."
John cocked his head. "What're you gonna do with him? Use him as a human wrecking ball or something?"
"Actually, sir…" A flicker of intensity entered the General's eyes. "You're not too far off."
Matthews began laying out his plan. As he spoke, John's sleep-deprived brain forced itself to take in the information, digesting and evaluating it.
"...That's really your plan?"
"Yes, sir," Matthews confirmed. "It might not work. But with recent developments, capable troops aren’t enough. We need a hail mary. We're already taking too many losses, and if trends continue…"
He let the sentence trail off as John closed his eyes, sinking back into his chair once more. He turned the proposal over in his head. If it didn't work, then there wasn't too much to lose. Just some of their resources in the short term. But if it did…
"Alright." He opened his eyes and met the General's expectant gaze with his own steely one. "Do what you have to do."
"Yessir."
The commander turned to leave. As he reached for the door handle, John called to him. "Matthews?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"
"This is the dumbest idea I've ever heard, " the president said, shaking his head. "But if it works... I owe you a drink."
Matthews just chuckled and nodded to the folder. "I don’t think it’s me you’ll owe, sir."
John looked down at the folder in front of him once more. There, paperclipped to a dossier and detailed report, was a picture of an athletic brown-haired man. He grinned at the camera, giving it a thumbs-up with one disproportionately large arm.
***
Chad came to slowly, still fuzzy and disoriented. He opened his eyes only to squint against the aggressively bright fluorescent lights overhead.
Where am I?
As his vision adjusted, he realized he was lying down in what appeared to be a hospital bed. The sterile white of the walls and ceiling surrounded him, only interrupted by a hanging curtain obscuring one side of the room. An IV trailed from his left arm to a clear pouch hanging nearby.
Chad struggled to piece together his memories. We were at Gram Gram's. We fought off those moles and druids and stuff. And then...
It all snapped into place, flooding back in a moment of recognition. The sudden sneak attack, the searing pain, sailing through the air like a damn missile to save Annie...
Annie.
He sat up sharply, sucking in a pained breath between his teeth. His body ached all over. His eyes darted around the room, quickly settling on the visitor chairs set near the door. There he spotted Annie, her dark hair partially obscuring her face as her head leaned back against the wall. On the chair-back beside her perched Squawkers, shaking himself awake to meet Chad's gaze.
"Wha- he's awake!" Squawkers flapped over to the bed, calling over his shoulder. "Hey, Annie! He's up!"
"Huh? What?" Annie shook herself awake, eyes darting around the room in confusion. "Oh! Finally!"
The pair were at his side in an instant, expressions filled with concern. Chad looked them over quickly, but neither seemed to be injured too badly. A few bandages peeked out from beneath Annie's sleeves, but that was all.
"How're you feelin'?" Annie asked with concern.
"I'm fine," Chad waved her off. "I'm more worried about you guys. You ok?"
"We're fine." Annie nodded. "A couple scratches, nothin' major. Doc's got it taken care of."
"Awesome." He glanced around one more time. "What about Gram Gram?"
"She's safe. She twisted her ankle, but that's all. That constitution helped keep her from breakin' a hip or anythin' worse." Annie smiled.
Chad let out a long breath of relief. If everyone else was ok, that's what mattered. "Good. I was worried. I didn't know if..." Chad paused, finally taking a moment to check himself over. He tried to wiggle his toes, but felt no response.
Annie saw his frown of confusion. The smile slipped from her face. "Er, Chad…"
His mind flashed back to the battle. He hadn't been able to move his legs then, either.... His mouth went dry.
"Annie?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to my legs?"
She let out a long breath, seeming to brace herself. "They're... not in good shape. The doc says you got some severed tendons and muscle both. Those cuts you got went pretty deep. But!" She continued on quickly. "It is fixable! They're sure on that!"
Chad bit his tongue, trying to keep himself from swearing. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. I got fucked up pretty bad this time. How am I supposed to protect people if I can't even walk?
That was twice in the past twenty-four hours he'd regretted not putting some kind of focus on his legs. Though perhaps he could still find out what muscles were damaged and heal them with constitution... if he'd leveled up, that is. It all depended on how bad things were.
Chad grimaced at the thought. "How long am I out for?"
Annie set a hand on his chest. "It'll take a while. It's not the quickest recovery, even with skills, but… You'll be out for a week."
Chad blinked. "A week?"
"I know. It's a long time, but…" A pained expression flashed across Annie's features. "I promise we'll do our best to take care of everyone in the meantime. We can't have you goin' out there and hurtin' yourself even more. And with the military involved…"
He couldn't help it. He started laughing.
"What?" Annie frowned in confusion.
"A week?! Annie, a week's nothing!" Chad wiped a tear away from his eye. "C'mon! Shit like this is supposed to take months to heal, at least!"
"Told you he wouldn't take it too bad." Squawkers scoffed. "It's really not that long!"
"You say that, but…" She bit her lip. "It's not lookin' like an easy week here, either. Not with everything goin' on."
Chad acknowledged the point with a shrug. "We've made it this far, haven't we? And you guys handled yourselves pretty darn well back there!"
He glanced up at their tags. Sure enough, they had gained some levels from the encounter. Squawkers was now a Parrot (Lvl 14), while Annie was a Massage Therapist (Lvl 12).
Dang. They're starting to catch up. I'll have to make sure I keep pulling my own weight. As much as I can, at least.
He clenched his fist and looked down at his legs. Suddenly, a week did seem like a long time. Maybe there would be some way for him to help out despite the setback, though. And if worst came to worst, his arm was almost certainly strong enough to make up for his handicap. If he played his cards right.
It won't be that bad. I'll just have to improvise. That, or throw a lot more stuff than before.
Annie shook her head. "Still… I'm sorry. I know it's probably not easy, being stuck in bed like this. I can't imagine what it feels like. But…"
"You kidding?" Chad grinned. "I'm the luckiest guy on the planet! The fact that this is getting fixed so fast is awesome. I'll just have to figure out some way to help out in the meantime."
"Yup!" Squawkers cawed in excitement. "If you ask me, it's a pretty good deal!"
Annie shook her head with a rueful grin. "You don't need to help out, Chad. Let us take care of you for once. Don't push yourself."
"But you said--"
"I know what I said," she cut him off, fixing him with a hard stare. "But that week could be longer if you go doin' somethin' stupid. I won't have you hurtin' yourself even worse by pushin' yourself or tryin' to walk on your fingers or somethin'."
His eyes widened. "Do you think that would work?"
"No." The pair chorused.
The three continued talking for a while, catching Chad up about the events after he'd been knocked out. The rest of the assassins had gone down relatively quickly, though they'd managed to inflict some wounds on the soldiers as well. After that, they'd had to drive quite a way to pick up Chad's battered form and rush to the hospital. Evidently, his little stunt had hurled him at least a mile.
Damn. I'm lucky I don't have a concussion or something. Does Iron Skin protect me from those?
"Oh, that's right." Annie perked up. "The Major wanted to talk once you woke up. That ok, or d'you need more rest?"
"Sure." Chad nodded. "I can talk to him. Where is he?"
"Here, lemme call him." Squawkers's eyes closed for an instant as he focused. "There. Just sent him a message."
"That's still the coolest thing." Chad shook his head. "I've got a talking, psychic parrot. Are you gonna learn to lift things with your mind, too?"
The parrot cackled. "Here's hoping! I'm looking forward to my next skills. Maybe I can do something to make it more likely..."
That reminds me. With a thought, Chad brought up his notifications. He hadn't had a chance to check them since the fight, and as he expected, there were a lot.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 7)! +21 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 5)! +10 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 6)! +15 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 6)! +15 Exp.
You have defeated an Enmolen Tunneler (Lvl 7)! +21 Exp.
On and on it went. Evidently, there had been far more moles underground than he'd expected, not to mention all of the snakes and ants. Despite all that though, he'd only managed to earn a single level.
You have reached Level 17!
Rewards:
+3 Stat points
Huh. Guess I'm really not getting a lot for killing weak stuff now. Though with the whole portal situation, I guess it won't be a problem for long...
A few moments later, a knock came at the door. A moment later, the Major stepped into the room, fluorescent lights shining off his bald head. He nodded in greeting. "Glad you're alive, kid. We were worried there for a minute."
"Nah," Chad waved off the concern. "It'll take more than that to kill me."
"Apparently." Major Geoffries snorted. "Well. As much as I'd like to chat, I'll skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point..."
Geoffries pulled up a chair and settled into it, elbows on his knees. "We need to close that portal, and we want your help doing it."
