Chương 37: If Time Could Slow Down Again?

A younger Scarlet's first instinct would have been to press no. It was the answer with the most easily imagined consequences.

'Everything stays the same.' Scarlet had had enough of the unknown for multiple lifetimes. A younger Scarlet was naïve. The Scarlet of today understood that no was only the default safe option so long as 'the same' was good. No was rarely a 'cautious' choice so long as you were working with partial information. [Foreign psionic energy detected. Signature active.] This wasn't the first time magic had been used on her, but it was the first time her trait had reacted to any kind of energy this way.

Perhaps the Historian would be able to help her make sense of more than just her stats. [Primordial Psion protocol: Would you like to subsume?] [Yes | No] Still, subsume was such a strong word. And what would happen to her if she did? Would they be able to tell? One part of her mind went through implications, calculations, and courses of action. The other part of her mind just understood. This wasn't like when she understood a programming concept, or when the Guide decided to be temporarily useful.

Instead, it was like rediscovering an old memory. One she's more than certain she'd never gained. She didn't know if she trusted it completely yet, but according to this weird new intuition, somehow her trait was holding onto some of that foreign energy, and not just folding it in with her own, but completely subordinating it. Depending on the quality and strength of the sample, it would eventually be rendered completely harmless to her.

It would also help her decipher fragments of the memories the energy held, which was about as clear as she understood it as well. All she knew was she'd be getting more information. According to the System, the signature was still active. Connected to a living source. That had implications she didn't yet fully understand, but she had a feeling she would if she selected yes. Scarlet looked at the two vulpians. Just which one did the energy belong to, and what would she learn from subsuming it?

[Yes] The moment Scarlet selected 'yes' warmth moved through her. It spread slowly from her sternum outward, as if someone had poured warm water into her veins, starting with her extremities. It spread slowly inwards from her fingers and toes in a mildly distracting, if pleasant, manner. She looked down at herself quickly. Thankfully no visible process was being displayed, at least not that she could see. (The 'memory' could be trusted!) She did wonder how long the whole thing would take, though.

[Process in progress. Time remaining: 02: 21: 08] She had an instinctive sense that it would take a couple hours. Her Interface was happy to provide her with a concrete answer in the form of another countdown timer. This one was for the completion of this 'subsuming' process the protocol activated. Scarlet went very still. There were things happening in the background of her consciousness. A flicker of impression brushed the edge of her mind. Not a memory exactly, or at least, not hers.

A construct was being formed. Then layered. Then revised again. That was… her? On the stone floor? Then there was what looked to be an infirmary, both familiar and alien. A few beds were in use. All of them occupied by vulpians that looked similar to the Historian. Again, that construct, though closer to the first version that had been used on her. Then the impression faded. Another alien infirmary, this time no other vulpians were present. The construct reappeared, though, this time much less complex.

Then it was gone. The impressions vanished. Well. That was certainly something. The Historian proceeded to gaze at Scarlet for an uncomfortable amount of time. They looked at each other for several brief moments, the Historian scrutinizing and Scarlet with a blank expression. She knew some type of a link would be created and wanted to know if the historian could sense it. Despite it being one-way, the power differential between them was nothing to scoff at. Who knew what detection powers he had.

The Historian, meanwhile, was interacting with one of his Skills, actively tracking the fluctuations in expected history, or 'the future' as the less enlightened liked to call it. Something related to this girl had just seriously shifted. Perhaps the skill would advance while she was here. Truly, truly, she was a boon. One that might see his purpose in the Tower fulfilled, as well as some unexpected growth. She looked down at the vial still in her hand, then back up. She had some decisions to make.

Obviously, she was staying. Besides training and information on the wider Network, she still had a quest and a trial to finish, and a portal world to clear. Still.

"Why did you render me unconscious, and what did you do to me while I was out?" She asked. The question had not been made with any edge. Scarlet truly wanted to know. While the Historian seemed unperturbed, Scarlet could sense the downturn of Tareth's already abysmal attitude.

"Excellent question," the Historian said.

"That was a psychological construct," he said as he pointed at the no-longer-glowing circle of inscriptions on the floor. Huh, Scarlet thought, those looked slightly different than they did before. Curious.

"What do you mean by that?" Scarlet asked. The Historian winced slightly, then glanced toward the floor markings and the tablet in his hand, so fast, even Scarlet's advanced perception couldn't catch it before he returned his attention to her.

"It is quite exciting, because itself technically does not interact with your physical body. All the benefits of sensation and experience without the terrible negative drawbacks of literally crushing you under waves increased physical pressure," he said, and Tareth winced.

"Of course, it can only be done in very specific contexts for individuals of a certain strength and power level, but what happens to you goes outside of recorded parameters."

"So, I was not supposed to collapse?"

"Well, you might have, just not like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I suspect you had a somewhat unique interaction." At the word unique, Scarlet felt his control over his emotions lapse for a moment. Through the brief glimpse she got of the surface emotions Scarlet could tell; the vulpian was ecstatic.

"Was it even a strength test?" If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"In a manner of speaking," he said, then continued based off her look.

"It did test strength of Will."

"Willpower then, and you couldn't tell me?" She asked.

"Well, I could have, but it would not have worked as intended." He shrugged. She took a moment to think over a few things.

"It was all in my head." she said partially to herself, though that concept struck a chord.

"How does that work?

"Your experience of it was real. The formation is meant to interact with you on a physiological level. You were simply responding to perceived stimuli, and you endured it admirably."

"So, none of that physically happened," she said slowly, looking over at the formation with new eyes as ideas formed in her head.

"Just because it wasn't happening to your physical vessel doesn't mean it wasn't real." He was looking at her very seriously as she said this, an underlying meaning there that she could only faintly detect. Thoughts fizzed around her head, but she forced herself to move on.

"And while I was unconscious?" she asked. Leaving the question open-ended.

"Ah, that, yes," he began swiping frantically on his tablet.

"You show an incredible sensitivity to energetic reactions." Their eyes met when he said that, before he buried his head in his notes once more.

"That was a healing construct I used on you, a carefully constructed healing pattern at a level you shouldn't have been able to feel yet. So, if the foreign signature she was in the process of subsuming belonged to the Historian, then it had almost certainly come from that healing spell. Just what would the energy of a healing construct teach her. For the first time since the convention, Scarlet dearly wished for time to move faster.

Now, while the process so far was beneficial it didn't change the fact that the process they used to get there left her with serious concerns. Scarlet looked from one face to the other. Neither of them looked guilty, and She knew for a fact, Tareth didn't feel any actual guilt for what the Historian had admitted was a miscalculation. She could feel it. She had an instinct to do an emotional deep dive on him. She used to try it as a child pre-System.

Back then she'd found it exhausting, frustrating, and straining to try, only to be unsure it was actually working. Though she had also been ten years old and desperate to believe what might have been her own delusions. She couldn't exactly ask. She discovered pretty early on that exposing a person's facade is a great way to never have to worry about your friends, because you would either never make any, or drive away the few you did.

It would be her first time in decades actively leaning into her ability to read that energy about people and situations. Of course she wouldn't try it on him first. She'd recently had a wake-up call that people could sense when she used her skills. Though she didn't know if that was people, lowercase 'p', as in 'people' in general or if it was uppercase 'P', People. Only people with special prerequisites, like whoever the Historian was. Yeah, she needed to flex her new skills.

That wasn't really something she had had much time or ability to do since she woke up to find a stat screen in her face and her mouse fighting a raccoon. She needed information, privacy and a weapon better than a cane that couldn't cut, stronger than a gun that'd given up, and more reliable than a temporarily MIA murder mouse. She also needed some form of control over this process.

General questions would be fine to get answers to while they were working together, however actually deciding on what they'd be working on? Yeah, she required more of a say now. Her gaze flicked to the glowing floor markings that had just seen her pass out. Objectively, the Historian had lied. A mistake had been made, and she'd been the victim, and that might have been alright if they really were testing STR. Because then it would've been a choice.

Instead they'd both been blindsided, and she'd ended up on the ground. She wasn't angry, she literally couldn't be much of anything right now. These past few hours she'd received a lot of practice using Empathy to manipulate her own emotions. However even if she were completely irate, what could she do about it? As far as she was aware, no police were coming. That thought arrived with unpleasant clarity. No one was going to kick the door open and escort the Historian away if he decided to do something worse.

No human authority existed here. No law she understood applied. No social framework she could reliably manipulate surrounded them. If the Historian chose to exploit her, dissect her, ignore her, or simply keep her, the only thing standing in the way was his own goodwill and whatever terms existed in their agreement. Scarlet had found 'goodwill' to be a generally poor security measure when working with strangers.

She also knew that this was the exact position Earth was going to be in in twelve years if they didn't get their act together, and it was the exact situation a lot of people were apparently going to be in in the very near future. [Upon conclusion of the post-Integration seclusion period, Earth becomes vulnerable to direct interference from external system-integrated factions…] Banking on goodwill was a terrible gamble. Luckily she had mutual interest to rely on as well. Much more stable gamble.

A part of her mind was busy working out ways to try and leverage that in order to get her own agenda fulfilled. Still, while plans and schemes were well and good, if she could do it the simple way, why now?

"Is it possible to amend a mana document?" She had to ask. Tareth made an actual choking noise.

"It is," the Historian nodded.

"In fact, it may be necessary. It appears you will not be the only one revealing information you wish to protect."

"Master?" Tareth began. He wasn't quite sure what the older vulpian was planning on doing or revealing. While Tareth had followed the Historian to the Tower as somewhat of an assistant and protégé, it was also true that when he went, the leaders of the larger vulpian faction were under the assumption by his people that he would somewhat curb some of his master's less cautious tendencies. The Historian could get carried away in the pursuit of answers.

"I recall you wanting to know about system contracts." The Historian said, before summoning, a table and some chairs. A storage artefact, perhaps. Finally, a single silver-grey scroll materialized in the air between them, its surface smooth and flawless, almost reflective. Scarlet and Tareth both watched as fine darker-than-black script flowed across it in elegant lines that seemed to write themselves. Just the ink alone was a work of art, sucking in light and occasionally glinting delicately.

Like someone added glitter to the void. Each additional clause settled into place with such ease she knew it had to be difficult to accomplish. Okay. It made sense now why he'd said System contracts were so costly. Not that she'd want to, but there was now no way she would be able to quit halfway through. Those contract materials did not look cheap, and something told Scarlet that her accumulated 2k in System credits would not be enough to pay off the debt.

"Master?" Tareth tried again but the Historian simply raised a hand to cut him off. The edge of amusement gone from the old vulpian's features. Once the seating was settled the paper and ink that had been hovering the whole time floated out and settled too. The script never stopped writing. When her hands and feet began to tingle as she made her way closer to the Historian, that was when Scarlet realized he wasn't using mana.

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed, but she had been too distracted to acknowledge what she was sensing. Psionic energy. His psionic energy. He had used this before in the library, only it felt different somehow. The first was the fact that she could feel it. She could feel it, and it was familiar. This was the energy signature she was currently in the process of subsuming. While it irked her, her personal information didn't warrant one of these fancy System contracts.

She did get the feeling it meant psionic energy was something of a big deal.

"You would teach me about this?"

"Teach you, study you," he wiggled his hand back and forth.

"Master!"

"When?" Scarlet asked. Would it be something he dangled over her head to make sure she complied even when his instructions put her at risk, or?

"Why not start right now?" He said, eyes going distant in a way she was already recognising as obsession.

"Drink that" he pointed to the vial she was still holding. It will help with fatigue and energy depletion. We can begin once this is signed." He indicated the scroll. This was going to be good, she thought as looked to the vial. Then she remembered the countdown in the corner of her vision telling her there were only 2 hours left until she finished 'subsuming' the energy. She had no idea what would happen then because the answer was variable. What she did know was that contract or not, she'd want some privacy.

Then she looked at the state of herself, then over to the indignant Tareth, and finally back to the Historian who was filling in the contract with visible glee. Was this what reluctant children experienced at bedtime? Play with magic or take a bath. For a moment allowed herself to feel. Her eye twitched.