Chapter 49

A Prometheus being is a person, or person-like monster, who is assembled from the parts of corpses, not unlike a flesh golem. However, Promethians are also physically enhanced with massively improved strength and can be improved in additional ways. These beings are viewed as monsters by many because of their origin, and some do become such creatures if they can’t maintain their body’s needs to upkeep.

When I came back to the world of the living, I lay in a bed. A very luxurious bed. A massive and costly four-poster bed. The frame was fine-wrought wood, and the ‘mattress’ was a zero-grav hover pad. The sheets covering me rippled around me like waves in an ocean. The fancy bed was centered against the back wall of a wondrous room. It was a mix of classic fine woodwork and bleeding-edge technology. The richly colored woods were precisely carved and inset with high-quality stone of all kinds.
Framing the door opposite me was a library of textbooks, tombs, and even tablets, both stone and digital. The shelves were each labelled with hologram labels denoting the topics and method of organization.
Huge Illusory displays were set into the walls on either side of the room. These displays portrayed a window’s view of an expansive mountain forest. Above the forest scenes were holo-windows from programs, projecting several types of scans of a body and an arm, along with half-complete myst circuits, and mechanical diagrams.

I didn’t get a better look at the strange room since Lind walked in through the door opposite me. The well-carved wooden door split down the center and retracted into the frame. Lind hurried through, reading something on a tablet. He was engrossed in whatever the device was showing him.
The man speed-walked to the wall display to my left, muttering to himself. He moved the program windows around, enlarging or reducing the size of some, entering typed text or activating applications in others.

I was about to speak up to get the man’s attention when I caught sight of my arm and yelped in shock. Lind’s head snapped around to look at me with a disturbing gaze. “Good. You’re awake.” He waved his hand, and all the programs and images on the display he was on minimized out of sight. Lind reached the bedside in two long strides. “How does it feel?”

I looked down at my arm and felt a welling regret for my stupidity. Shredded brisket was right. Somehow, Lind had healed practically all the damage. Yet scars remained. Raised and fresh scars like interweaving veins or… roots. My mind flashed back to the aftermath of the tower.
The scars wrapped and ran down the entire length of my arm in a disturbing pattern.
At Lind’s question, I gently removed the needle of an IV leading to a bag of blood and tested the limb. First, I flexed my fingers with barely any pressure. That felt fine. Then I rolled and bent my wrist. That felt good, if sensitive. After that, I folded my arm at the elbow. That felt… better. I rolled my shoulder with a bit more energy. It felt perfectly fine. I repeated each option at random and in rapid succession, even adding new motions. The more I moved the limb, the better it felt. If anything, the arm felt stronger than it had before the stupid act.

I didn’t need to say anything to Lind. He watched my childish motions and gave me a patient and warm smile. “Good. I must say that your body is fascinating. It seems that your body adapted to your newfound allergy to Life Myst. It likely developed at the same time you manifested that allergy.”

“How?” I asked in shock. “How, by everything above and below, did you heal my arm? I was unconscious.”

“A valid question,” Lind said as he eyed my arm with curiosity. “You had mentioned that your mentor stumbled upon the fact that Death Myst mends your body. You were remarkably lucky that I had already been studying your recent gene codes, as well as the bodily alterations after your… evolution.”

“Care to elaborate?” I asked in a pressing but patient tone.

“Certainly,” he said. “While your body now reacts to Life Myst as though it were a potent poison, it has also adapted to essentially treat Death Myst as a magical healing agent when directed correctly. Additionally, this process can be done while you are unconscious. A monumental difference between standard magical healing and your new process.”

“Well, that’s…” I chewed on my cheek as I thought of a proper response to this news. “Nifty, I guess. It’s great to know that I’m not without magical healing, and it even has a nice bonus feature-”

Lind raised a judgmental brow at me. “Feature? Son, this isn’t a new car. This is a massive change in the dynamics of known myst science. The knowledge that we could produce beings, such as yourself, that can respond to traditionally hazardous elements as a non-divine boon… We could start a revolution that could shake the foundations of the reality we know.”

“I… uh… wow.” I wasn’t even able to give the man a proper response to that news.

“But there’s more. Plenty more. I also ran a few additional tests and discovered something related to the revolution that is almost as astounding. Does your arm feel stronger than before?”

“Yeah. Why is that? Did you add some internal cybernetics? Maybe boost the ANFEN?”

“By the forces, no. I had to remove your ANFEN completely; its systems were corrupted. What I did do was add muscle fibers from cadaver tissue to your arm while mending.”

“Wait,” I said. “You’re saying that you added dead person into my body?! I’m part dead guy?!”

“Don’t be a child about it.” Lind chided. “I saw your hospital records. You had cadaver tissue implanted in your leg.”

“That was a little bit of dead person!” I shot back. “I know that sometimes people need like a bit of cadaver bone planted in them, or maybe a cadaver tendon. But if my arm looks like this,” I waved the limb around, “it's probably half corpse meat.”

“Sixty percent cadaver tissue.” Lind corrected with a deadpan tone. “And your use of the term ‘planted’ might be the best way for you to look at it. Like a plant I have removed from a pot with depleted soil and transplanted into a pot of fresh soil. Now, as I was saying, your body accepts cadaver tissue at a preternatural rate, and that tissue performs even better in your body than your natural tissue. You are now sixty percent stronger in that arm than you were before.”

I stared at my arms, feeling like I was going to be sick. My body preferred components from dead people more than what I was born with. Was I going to end up swapping limbs like replacing parts of a car that break down? Was I about to become a Prometheus? A monster stitched together from corpse pieces and left to wander the world, hated by everyone? Well… I was already hated by most people just for having my horns and a tail.

Suddenly, I remembered something critical. I snapped my eyes to Lind. “How long have I been here?”

“A little more than a week. May I ask why?”

“I need to meet with the rest of my team and my mentor.” I threw off the sheets covering me to reveal that I was nude. Unbothered, I struggled to escape the zero-gravity pad, rolling and half-swimming toward the edge.

“We do have more to discuss. Topics relating to your parentage, but I do agree that you need to meet with your comrades and superior.” Lind stood and moved for the door. “I shall fetch you some fresh clothes and call for a cab.” He paused the door as it opened. “Do you have a disguise readily at hand?”

“No,” I said, half-spitting the word. “Mine was damaged during my last mission.”

“Then I’ll see what I can come up with.”

Two hours later, I was standing before the safe-house, dressed in a stiff and itchy pair of jeans, a matching jacket, and a lavender t-shirt with the image of a cocktail glass with a helix of DNA sticking out of it and piercing an olive. My personal appearance was even more irritating. I looked like a girl with an almost pretty face, muddy brown eyes, and dirty blond hair half-tucked under a massive loose fabric hat.

I stepped up to the front door, about to knock, when it swung open to show Navor glaring at me with a butter knife held at my throat like a weapon. I had no doubt that in her hands, that thing was just as lethal as an actual dagger.

“Oh, Iver, it’s just you.” Navor’s scowl softened somewhat, and she lowered her knife. I was shocked that she could identify me under the illusion. And at a glance, no less. I guess it made more sense how Thallos knew it was me at the party.

“Come inside,” she waved me in with the knife. “We need to talk.”

I entered the house and pulled a ring free from my revamped hand, dropping the illusion. My clothes beneath the illusion were completely black. The kind of black that made me look like I was about to commit a crime and flee into the night.

Navor entered the kitchen, blindly tossing the butter knife over her shoulder to land in the sink even as she pulled out two mugs and filled each with piping hot tea. She handed me a mug painted with crows dancing in a row, and we both took a seat at the table.

I was about to ask where everyone was when Navor beat me to it. “They’re all out right now. I’ve been keeping them busy with the jobs you all were supposed to do. Small things with low stakes. They need some sense of what we can call normal.”

I nodded quietly before sipping from my mug. Camomile tea. Likely for the best, it was something soothing.

“You know what you did?” She asked sternly.

I wordlessly nodded, not daring to raise my eyes from my mug.

“Consequences, Iver. Massive consequences.” I could feel her eyes on me. “The accident with the monster was just that, an accident, if a tragic one. But the bomb you threw over a busy street… That was stupid and desperate. Now you collapse a third of a mega-scraper. It wasn’t bad enough that it was a mega corporation headquarters. You dropped it into a neighborhood. A week later, and they’re still pulling bodies out.”

I winced and cringed at the news. Consequences was right. That stupidity of mine was going to make national, maybe international, news. And, of course, no one could accept that it was an accident. I was, without question, labelled the worst terrorist in a decade, if not longer.

“The Order was willing to let go of the monster rampage and bomb stupidity after you got some moderate punishment. But after the tower…” Navor shook her head in disappointment. “I know you didn’t want it. Your team knows. Even the Mysteriarch knows. But this kind of screw up has the High Court out for your head. There are people in the order who want to string you up or hand you off to the law with a gift bow. There are people above the Mysteriarch who think you’re not stupid, but an agent for The Company. You were already suspect after training under your uncle. Now you pull one of the worst acts of terrorism the city has seen, and at a location where your uncle was plotting something. To make things worse, we know that he escaped with the data and formula that you were attempting to steal. You’re wearing the executioner’s collar, kid.”

I could feel the blood drain from my face with every word, and I tried not to break down into tears. Tears welled up in my eyes, regardless. I set aside the mug before slamming my head into the table. There I cried. I wept silently out of sight of the Master. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to let go and fall into a berserk rage. If I were as enraged as I was when I first fought Kellden, I wouldn’t have to feel the way I did. Drowning in shame. Suffocated by failure. Trapped and tied down with guilt. It would be so much easier to just let loose. Start throwing destructive spells around at random as I screamed at the world and the gods.

“But you didn’t totally blow it,” Navor said in a warmer tone. “We’ve checked, and you did capture all of that cyber phantom in the data container. You saved your friends and the rest of your team. It has been noted that you put the lives of your team above everything else. If the Mysteriarch can pull off her plan, you’ll be given what's called a Redemption Quest.”

I wiped my face and tentatively peered up at Navor. “Which is what?” I muttered

She took a sip of her tea before answering, clearly taking the moment to contemplate. “Think of it like a mission that we give you to prove yourself. Normally, they’re given to members who are suspected of being under the thumb of something nasty, knowingly or not. They’ll send you to collect a holy artifact that could remove any nasty curses or pacts. Or they’ll send you to help a Priest of Cleric with a dangerous job before scrubbing you clean of any darkness. Though you would be sent on such a mission with a guard escort to keep you in line and prevent anything… else from happening.”

“But…”I thought about how best to put my concern. “What about my… um… allergies? What if my soul is darkness? If a Priest tries to bless me, I might spontaneously combust or explode.”

“The Mysteriarch is already aware of your situation. She’s going to submit a request for some job that’ll not blow you up with holy magic. We just don’t know what yet.”

“I… I see.” I thought over this possible escape from… what? Execution? Exile? I’d rather walk that path of exile than lose my head.

A question came to mind. I dared to look Navor in the eye and timidly asked, “What about the others? How are they doing?”

Navor leaned back in her chair, draping an arm over the chair beside her. She rolled her eyes as if she had been told to log holy scriptures alphabeticlly and as a reworked she get a crappy reward. “Drama. Gods, the drama of the young. I’ve cut everyone a break after the nightmare you dragged them through.”

I twitched at the comment.

“But, I’m guessing that you want details.” She heaved a massive sigh and started counting off with her fingers. “Ferris asked if he could court Nennel, and she shot him down in a pretty harsh way. So, he’s now out in the city, being moody and edgy while he hunts a pack of Necrotech Predators, he says, that were on top of the tower. He says he’ll be hunting them after the academy lets out for the season before next academic year.”

The mechanical creatures definitely would be out there stalking the streets. Their bodies are durable enough to survive that fall with only a few dings. They weren’t the only creatures stalking the streets in this concrete hellscape.

Navor raised a second finger. “I gave Nennel permission to leave for home a few weeks early. She said she needed to get her head on straight and get some training in.” She raised a third finger. “Demierra is the best-behaved of the lot. But her temper has had her cracking skulls on jobs more often than is really needed.” She raised a fourth finger. “Ozwald went back to the academy. For real this time. He said that he needs to do some personal work, but wouldn’t say what.” A fifth finger was raised. “Zynna has been a ball of moody hormones and has been barhopping in their downtime. I swear, you all should be college age, with the exception of Elf Boy. But the girl or boy or whatever is acting like they’re only just reaching that age.” Navor let out a lighter huff, then lowered all the fingers of her hand save for one. “And Kharmor… Dwarf/Not Dwarf Boy. He got some kind of upsetting news from his parents and left for home.”

I fell back into my chair in numb dejection. My friends, my support group, were essentially gone. Either left for home or likely wanting nothing to do with me. I needed support now more than ever before, and I was alone. Totally alone. “I…um…” I croaked. “I’d like to request to leave the field mission early as well. I’d like to start my apprenticeship with Mr. Dragh early. I need some time to get away.”

Navor nodded. “I figured as much. You’re welcome to leave, but realize that your spot in the Academy is in the air. We haven’t chosen whether you passed the year, or even if you’re still a student. So just keep that in mind.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I stood from my seat. “I’ll be back for my things later.” I was about to make for the door when I paused to give Navor one last bit of information. “The data container. It has at least some of the Zyzivane formula we lost. If you can pull it without letting him out, it would likely be helpful. Where is he anyway?”

Navor flashed me a malicious grin. “I have him stowed in a pocket realm connected to my office, and both are cut off from any networks. So don’t worry.”

I gave her a final nod before moving for the door, slipping the illusion ring on before I left the house. I walked to Lind’s office. He had told me I would find him there before I left. He also asked me to come find him at my earliest possible convenience.
Well, now I had nothing but time until I was told my fate by the academy. I could’ve called a cab, but I needed the walk. As awful and disgusting as the city was, walking was calming me down. I would need a clearer head before I spoke with Lind again, after the news I had just received. The hits just kept on coming. Even the smallest bit of bad luck felt like another boulder on my shoulders. I was so tired. So done. Done with failure. Done with accidents. Done with backstabbing. Done with people I cared about getting hurt. There was nothing I wanted more than to bury myself in a coffin in the forest and never come out. I wanted it all to stop. I wanted not to exist.

I found Lind in his office. The shop had been closed for the day with a small note on the door addressed to me.

Iver, please come in. I’ll be in the workroom.

I stepped into the back room to find Lind looming over a genetic disassembler. The device was used to break genes down to various-sized bits of code for easy identification and path tracing. “I’m here, Sir,” I said, slipping off the ring again and shoving my hands in my pants pockets.

He looked up from the device. “Ah! Good. We have much to talk about.” He hurried over to offer me a seat of a wheel stool. “First, and this should be quite a nice tidbit of news for you, I’ve seen your custom tool designs and am remarkably impressed. I’d like to offer to patent your designs and commission them for production and widespread sale.”

“I'm sorry?” I stared at Lind, dumb founded. “What?”

Lind gave me a patient look, clearly seeing the stress and wear on my face. “I want to make you money. And a lot of coin at that. Of course, you’d be getting sixty percent for producing the designs and testing them. I’d take twenty percent, acting as your overseer. And twenty percent will be going to a very nice gentleman I know who can get production started on your devices.”

My eyes almost bulged out of my skull at the idea. I had never thought of selling my gadgets. I had always simply made them because I needed them.
Why had I never thought of this before? Because I was an idiot. A genius idiot, but an idiot all the same.

“How…How much are we talking? What, thirty silver a week?”

“My boy, you clearly have never worked a real job before.” He said this with a warm smile and a sparkle in his eyes. “We are talking mythirl. Thousands of gold and entering your bank account like a steady river.”

I almost fainted at the idea of so much money. I was about to go from a homeless orphan who lived anywhere he could by the kindness of others to… what? Would I be able to buy a house? Scratch that. I could buy a manor house. Maybe even a castle if Lind wasn’t exaggerating.

“The design for your gauntlet that we based your arm after-”

I cut him off. “No!” My tone was final. “Not the gauntlet. Not the sword. And not the shoes. Anything else, but not those. I’ll even double down on creating new designs.”

“Okay, okay,” Lind said in a tone to calm me down, with matching hand motions. “Your creations, so you pick what to share.”

“I just…” I debated whether or not to explain to Lind why I was so vehement. The man had done a lot more for me, not the least of which was fixing my arm when, by all accounts, he could’ve simply thrown it in a bio waste disposal bin and slapped on another bionic piece. So I went for it. “It’s just that I’ve designed some things that I don’t think should be available to just anyone. I’ve seen the design of one of my greatest pieces get perverted into a nightmare.” The thought of Kellden with those new chains based on my sword set my teeth on edge.

“I understand,” Lind said with a nod. “We can speak with the appropriate authorities about putting some of your equipment behind restrictions, if that will let you feel safer.”

I thought about it for a moment before giving a wordless nod of agreement.

“Excellent!” Lind slapped his hands against his thighs and leaned in. “I thought it appropriate to start with the best news for you. There are other topics we need to talk about. At the forefront of which is your genetic makeup.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and I was forced to lean in. “It took an astounding amount of research and questioning the right sources, but I got hold of a substance that matched very closely with some of your genetic markers I wasn’t able to identify.”

“That’s great!” I half-shouted. I was on the edge of my seat to get another step closer to knowing just what I was.

“Keep it down!” Lind hissed. “This is nothing that you want to be known by just anyone. If you’re smart, no one but you and myself will know this.”

“What? Why?” I whispered.

“Iver my boy, you have components of a being that was never meant to procreate with mortals. You shouldn’t exist. If the wrong people learn of this information, you will be hunted to the ends of the far realms and destroyed so completely, there won’t even be records of you, let alone a body.”

“Are we talking gods?” I asked.

“No, no. If you look hard enough, you can find Alterborne and Demigods almost anywhere. This is something much older and much worse.”

“Older than the gods? So does this mean that I could have some kind of latent superpowers? Would that parent come looking for me?” I couldn’t help but hope for a powerful and wise ancient parent who would watch over me.

“By the gods, I hope for the sake of everything and everyone on this plane that they don’t come looking for you.” Lind’s eyes shot around the room, as if he was worried someone was listening. “They wouldn’t view you as some long-lost son or even a game piece. They would see you as an abomination and a heretic of the highest order. They would want you wiped from existence.”

“…oh…Oh shit.” I numbly cursed.