Chapter 31: Pain is Temporary, Attribute Ranks are Forever (Patreon)

[A/N]: Surprise chapter! Just cause! I have almost no backlog to speak of, but I just wanted to get a chapter out today. Don't worry, I do have Friday's chapter ready to go as well!

Enjoy!

(Minor fix from Chapter 30: I messed up his Attribute averages. Physical is now F2 from F3 and Presence is now E4 from E5.)

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Right away, Terry could tell Genetic Analysis was very different from its Metaphysical twin. As soon as their hands touched, Terry was able to visualize his father’s genetic makeup like a 3D overlay in his vision. He didn’t understand it in the slightest, but he could visualize it. More than that, he found that when he pulled his hand away, bits of residue clung to his hand, allowing him to continue the analysis without having to be in skin-on-skin contact. He scraped his father’s hand to give him a larger sample to work with, then leaned back and re-activated the Skill.

The really surprising part of it all, was that the Genetic Analysis didn’t seem require power activation for Terry to run it; the metaphysically cataloged component appeared to serve that function. It was like the metaphysical component was the lock, while the genetic component was the key—or maybe vice versa. He still hadn’t figured out the exact mental model for the two analysis Skills. All he knew was he was excited to analyze the genetic component and affix his first Skill!

The genetic information visualized in his mind like a series of rolling hills. He both saw and felt the data streaming past, diving into valleys with his mind, then climbing to the peaks, before hitting more valley. It was a confusing Skill that was less intuitive than the metaphysical mold he had made of his father’s aura earlier. He wasn’t sure he was making any progress at all, when he hit his first landmark.

As it appeared, he knew instantly that it was important. The landmark stood out like a sore thumb, shaped differently than the rest of the genetic information. Whereas the normal sense was of hills and valleys with a relatively uniform appearance, this particular landmark was jagged in his mind, almost like the ridges of a key’s edge.

He paused the analysis, regarding the landmark from every angle, trying to catalog it in his thoughts. As he made his third mental pass, he realized that the shape he was seeing was almost familiar. In a burst of inspiration, he canceled the Genetic Analysis Skill and swapped over to his mental model of his father’s metaphysical component.

Where was it…where was it…there!

He’d gone over the mold—as he’d come to think of the metaphysical component—with a fine-tooth comb twice now and he had a good sense of its intricate shape in his mind. So he’d recognized the shape of that landmark as the opposite of a particular section of the mold. The key analogy suddenly grew more poignant as he realized that the genetic landmark could literally slot into place in that section of the mold.

The success of that realization slipped away in an instant as he realized just how insignificant that section of the mold was. If he needed to find landmarks to slot into the entire surface of the metaphysical component, this was going to take a lot longer than three hours…

Well, at least I know what to look for now!

***

With his father’s active participation not required and the analysis looking like it would take all night, James had begged off to take a nap—apparently he’d been traveling all day and hadn’t had a chance to sleep yet. Terry had reluctantly paused his analysis to say goodnight and return to his room.

Crunch was there waiting for him and he rushed by with a quick hello, eager to reactivate the analysis while his father’s metaphysical mold was still fresh in his mind.

An indeterminate amount of time later, the notification he had been waiting for popped into view.

 ---

Genetic-Metaphysical component cataloged…

New Skill Cataloged: Full-Body Tempering (F)

New Affixation available. Affix?

---

He stared at that message in a bleary-eyed daze.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. “It worked!”

With a thought, he confirmed the Affixation. Both his body and aura began to squirm against his control and in a moment of panic, he tried to cancel the process.

---

Cancel Affixation process?

---

He hesitated, the alien feeling of his self being shifted without his input frightening him in a visceral way. Then again, that was what he had been working toward for the entire day; he wasn’t about to shy away now.

With a thought, he dismissed the prompt and let the Skill do its work.

He could feel it morphing his aura into a position very familiar to the aura shape he’d been studying for hours. It wasn’t exactly identical, but close enough for him to recognize the Skill being imprinted in his aura. At the same time, his muscles and skin seemed to move, shifting much more subtly than his aura, but enough for him to feel the changes.

The entire process took five minutes and he knew instinctively that it was done when the Affixation Skill ended of its own accord.

 ---

New Skill Affixed: Full-Body Tempering (F)

Concentrates your aura into your physical makeup, increasing Strength, Speed, Toughness, and Perception. Can be run passively. Active input amplifies the speed and effect.

 ---

His skin itched and his aura felt strange, but other than that, there didn’t seem to be any negative effects of the Affixation. He rose from his bed and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Crunch in the doorway.

“Holy-” Terry fell back onto the bed in shock. “Crunch, you scared the crap outta me!”

“Apologies, my prince. Aura feel different.” He tilted his head, his eye scanning Terry up and down. “Familiar, but different.”

Terry waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing to worry about, Crunch. Just an Awakened thing.” He had realized earlier that he was restricted from telling Crunch what exactly his Skills did. But he wasn’t restricted in showing him. “In fact, I just finished what I needed to do. I’m gonna activate one of my powers now…if you wanted to watch?”

Crunch’s single eye blinked, then he strode into the room without a word and sat in Terry’s desk chair.

A sudden pang of anxiety made his stomach churn as he realized two things. One, his father had said that body tempering was extremely painful. And two, he now had an audience, meaning he was about to be a lot more self-conscious when the pain hit.

But he couldn’t exactly change his mind and kick Crunch out, so he gritted his teeth and pulled up the Skill with a thought.

“I’m gonna be in some pain,” he added for Crunch’s benefit. “Don’t be alarmed.”

Crunch simply nodded, his gaze casual as he regarded Terry.

Here goes nothing! He activated the Skill, turning his mind inward to provide manual input.

White-hot agony burned his every nerve, searing him from the inside out. His back arched as the breath was sucked from his lungs. Pain worse than Sol’s fire burned him from the inside out. Sheer panic eclipsed his thoughts and for a moment, he didn’t know where he was, who he was, or what had happened. His thoughts fumbled for the mental switch and in a moment of desperation-induced clarity, he finally found it.

He lay in his bed, even the simple memory of the pain nearly worse than anything he’d ever experienced. His entire body was clenched, his lungs wrung dry, tears dripping down his face.

After some time, he returned to himself—slowly, tentatively—bracing for the pain to return, even knowing it wouldn’t. He realized distantly that Crunch was hovering over him, his sole eye scanning him up and down with worry.

“I’m fine,” he tried to say. The words were mumbled, more moan that articulation.

Then he noticed the notifications flickering in his view, clamoring for his harried attention.

 ---

Strength: F2

Speed: F4

Toughness: F1 → F2

Perception: F2

Physical Average: F2 → F3

 ---

No way. No freakin’ way…

“Crunch…”

“I’m here, my prince!”

He reached his hand up and Crunch clasped it, pulling him into a sit. His clothes were soaked with sweat and a rank smell hit his nose as his senses began to return.

“How long was that,” he asked.

“Forty-five seconds—”

Terry’s mind came alive, his gaze snapping to Crunch. “Seconds?” His head reeled at the revelation.

“Yes, my prince. Then lay on bed five minutes.”

Forty-five seconds of pure agony. But the payoff…

“I have to go back in,” he muttered. The anxiety of that realization was offset by the gains still flickering in his vision.

“My prince!” The alarm in Crunch’s grating tone pulled Terry away from the Skill.

“It’s normal, Crunch.” I think. “I’m getting gains to compensate, don’t worry.” Crunch’s eye flitted over Terry, obvious concern on his face. “I’ll message my father just to be sure. Okay?”

That concern remained, but Crunch nodded.

[Terry]: Dad, hope this doesn’t wake you. But you weren’t kidding…is the pain supposed to be so intense?

He waited a moment, expecting his father to be asleep. But a message came in a moment later.

[James]: It gets easier. The higher your Attributes, the less pain. But those first few ranks are some of the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.

Terry started to reply when another message came in.

[James]: There’s no shame in running it passively until your Attributes hit the peak of F. The pain is almost manageable once you hit the Es. Sorry, son, I should have been more clear.

He considered that message for a moment, his thoughts conflicted. On one hand, it was just pain. Pain was temporary, Attribute ranks were forever. On the other hand, what was his rush? If he slowly climbed the Physical F ranks, well, no one expected him to be a Physical super anyway.

But then his mind flashed back to his wrist crumpling against the draugr’s chest. Tenebrous’ forearm around his throat. Savage leaping hundreds of feet in a single bound. Whipvine swimming through the air with nothing but his whips.

Maybe his father’s Skill wouldn’t get him to that level. Maybe it wouldn’t even get him past the Fs. But it was a start.

He didn’t want to be weak anymore. He refused to be weak anymore.

[Terry]: It’s just pain. How long to hit the peak of F if I run it actively versus passively?

[James]: Terry, you don’t have to rush.

[Terry]: How long dad?

There was a weighty pause on his father’s end, a moment dragging into ten. Then:

[James]: If you run it passively, probably a few weeks of total time. Running it for two or three hours a day…it took me a few months.

A few months? I jumped a single rank in forty-five seconds…

[Terry]: And if I run it actively?

[James]: I’m not entirely sure. Never ran it actively for long at the beginning. But if I had to guess, four, maybe five hours. Whip used to tell me he’d run it in fifteen minute bursts, twice a day. That’s insane, though. I didn’t push past five minutes until I hit the late Es.

Terry barely read the rest of the message.

Four to five hours…if I did a minute on, a minute off, I could get in a few hours before the parade.

[James]: I can tell by your silence you’re gonna run it actively, aren’t you?

[Terry]: How could I not?

[James]: I’m on my way.

[Terry]: You should nap, don’t worry about me.

[James]: I’m on my way.

Terry smiled at that. It was nice to have someone who cared and that he could talk with about his Skills. With his Affixation Skill being a secret, his father was the only one he could really go to for help.

What a change half a day can make, he mused.

He psyched himself up while he waited for his father to arrive, forcing in deep breaths as he tried to prepare his mind.

It’s only pain. It’s only pain.

When his father knocked on his bedroom door, Crunch pulled it open.

“Good to see you, Crunch,” James said with a nod.

“Good to see you, Prince James.”

His father’s eyes widened at that. “Hey, your English is getting pretty good.”

“I have good teacher,” Crunch said with a nod toward Terry.

James’ expression was appraising as he glanced between Crunch and Terry.

“Seems we have you to thank for his impressive Aura Attributes.”

Crunch inclined his head. “Prince is a natural.”

James chuckled, moving to sit on the bed beside Terry. His mood sobered as they regarded each other. He turned back to Crunch. “Crunch, would you attend outside? We need to discuss his Skills.”

The ghoul departed with a bow, leaving father and son alone.

“I see I’ve made a mistake giving you a body tempering Skill.” There was a glint in his father’s eyes, but also a flicker of worry.

Terry shrugged, feeling both trepidation and determination mingling inside him.

“If I was a Duelist instead of an Alterant, this would be expected, right? Just pretend I Awakened as a Duelist, then.”

James scoffed. “If you were a Duelist, your Physical Attributes would have started three or four ranks higher, reducing the pain significantly.” He sighed. “But you’re right. I don’t mean to coddle you, Terry. I remember this pain and no father wants their child to go through this level of suffering.”

Terry looked off, afraid that his resolve would chip away the longer they delayed.

“It’s the only way I can become strong,” he whispered.

When he looked back, his father had a thoughtful set to his lips. After a moment, he nodded.

“Okay, if you’re sure, then I won’t stop you.”

His stomach roiled with nausea in anticipation of the pain. But he pushed the anxiety away, forcing himself to pretend like he was looking forward to it.

Fake it till you make it, as his mother used to say.

“Ready?” James asked.

Terry nodded resolutely. “Ready.”

***

Two hours later, he deactivated the Skill for the last time, his limbs jelly, his mind seared raw. They’d run six total sessions, each five minutes long with a fifteen minute break. He had clenched his father’s hand so hard that it felt stuck that way, rigid like a cast. His sheets were soaked with sweat and grime that had somehow expelled itself from his pores and his muscles felt filled with fire.

But the notifications he had received over the two hours made the pain all worth it. He reviewed the final jump with a weary smile.

 ---

Strength: F2 → F4

Speed: F4 → F5

Toughness: F2 → F4

Perception: F2 → F3

Physical Average: F2 → F4

Chronoception: F0 → F1

Visual Processing: F0 → F1

Auditory Processing: F0 → F1

Mental Average: F0 → F1

 ---

“F4,” he hissed, his lungs tight and burning like he’d just run a marathon. “F1 Mental.”

James whistled in appreciation. “That’s incredible progress, Terry. Keep in mind, it’s gonna slow down dramatically as it rises, and even more so at the peak.”

Terry nodded mechanically from where he was sprawled out. Even that simple motion nearly made him puke.

James reached over, a cup of water in his hands. He held it to Terry’s mouth and the boy gulped it down greedily, choking for a moment before returning to finish it off. But James pulled the cup away. He turned to his father, glowering at the small betrayal.

“I’m serious about what I said earlier. You’re not to run the Skill without me. I’ve never heard of anyone dying from body tempering, but I’ve also never seen someone so desperate to find the limit.” Terry nodded, reaching his head up for the water, but his father pulled it back again. He glared at the man once more. “Promise me you won’t run it without me.”

If he was being honest, he was afraid to run it actively without his father nearby. He felt as helpless as a newborn calf right now, his limbs completely drained of any energy. But he had intended to run it passively once he’d recovered a bit.

He tried to speak, but his throat was sore from the screams. He cleared it and tried again.

“Promise not to run it actively without you,” he whispered.

James’ eyebrows rose. “Don’t think I missed what you just did there, boy. You check with me before you run it passively, too. Deal?”

Terry let out a feral growl, but there was no room for argument in his father’s stony expression.

“Fine,” he ground out.

James snorted, feeding him another sip of water. “Two ranks in a single day, Terry. And yet, why do I feel like you’re not satisfied with that?” He shook his head, rising to his feet. “You’ve been going all night. Sleep. Rest. You’ve got five hours before the parade. And I know you don’t want to miss your own Awakening party.” There was a humorous twinkle in his eye. “Then you wouldn’t get to meet Team Dallas or the Council.” He paused. “And I have it on good authority that Dancer confirmed his attendance—”

That perked Terry up and the fog surrounding his brain cleared just that much more.

“Really!” he squeaked. He cleared his throat with embarrassment and tried again. “Really? He’s coming?”

James nodded, the corner of his lip turned up in a wry smile. “So he says. But not if the whole thing’s canceled because you can’t stand.” James grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed and tossed it over Terry. “Sleep.” His voice took on that commanding tone Terry recognized from the battlefield. “That’s an order, soldier.” He softened it with a wink, turning to leave.

“Uh, dad?”

James turned, his eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah, Terry?”

“Th-thanks. Thanks for being here, I mean.”

“You bet, kiddo. Get some rest now. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Terry was asleep before his father even closed the door.