Apocalypse: Generic System

by Macronomicon

  Oooh, interesting.

  Processed Control Lens (very Small)

  The Control Lens is a mixed blessing that coalesces in exceptionally abusive households, and occasionally dungeons. It is a uniquely valuable ingredient in any wizard’s toolkit, as it allows a Myst user to control the effect of another lens beyond its initial manifestation.

  Extremely valuable to Myst craftsmen, combat wizards and law enforcement. However, the Control Lens is most commonly found in slave collars. Due to their rarity, they constitute half of the value of the collars they reside in.

  A single Slave Collar is worth more than a commoner earns in a decade.

  This fact has led to some misguided parents being unreasonably strict with their children in the hopes that a lens will coalesce and relieve their financial woes, but results are often poor.

  Jeb turned the rigid piece of leather in the shape of a lens back and forth in his hands. “Oh come on,” he muttered. “Owning the disintegrator is prohibited by law, but the obvious human rights violation isn’t?”

  The lens was beading with a phantasmal liquid, dripping onto Jeb’s hands, where it vanished after a moment.

  Jeb licked the lens.

  Sweat and tears. He thought as the taste vanished from his tongue.

  Jeb was starting to get a feel for the society they were being integrated with, and it wasn’t all good.

  Well, on the upside, if these exist, then surely a Lens of Good Vibes will find its way to me one of these days. I should see what I can find at music festivals. Happiness probably tastes like unshaved armpits.

  “Whatcha got?” Ron asked, sitting next to him.

  Jeb wordlessly handed the lens over as he studied the rest of the guts. There were a few more components buried just behind the lens: a tiny Myst regulator, along with something that looked suspiciously like a chip, with several different pinholes for Myst to travel through, called a variable behavior inhibitor.

  “Oooh, interesting,” Ron said, turning the lens over in his hand before he also licked it, making a sour face.

  “Fireballs?”

  “Or summoned creatures,” Jeb said. “I was thinking giant worm-scarabs.”

  “You guys are creeping me out,” Amanda said, watching them pour over the guts of the slave collar with growing excitement.

  “You just wouldn’t understand.” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

  Amanda raised a brow.

  “I mean…” Ron glanced at Brett.

  “What are you looking at me for? You’re the one that stepped in it.”

  Jessica snorted, her eyes still closed.

  Jeb tossed the inhibitor into the fire and pocketed the regulator. He could pour Myst into it, and the tiny metal box allowed it to thread outward in a fine spool of energy, seemingly good to go for hours.

  That’ll be handy.

  “Sleepy time folks,” Jeb said, holding out his hand. Ron reluctantly put the Myst lens back in his palm, and Jeb pocketed that too.

  The night passed surprisingly peacefully, and Jeb used that as an opportunity to study the fire-fly lantern. He was able to find where the top of the lantern had been crimped on and gently loosen it, peeling off the top to reveal the delicate guts of the magic item.

  Inside was a part that could siphon small amounts of Myst from whoever was in physical contact, which fed into some kind of capacitor that would ‘tick’, or discharge every time it reached a certain amount of Myst, and a several sandwiched pieces of ‘miniscule’ Fire, Fly, and Control lenses. Tiny pieces of lens no bigger than a grain of rice pressed together tightly.

  Jeb suspected that if he were to manually try to feed Myst through it, he’d burn out the lenses immediately.

  His voltage was far too high.

  Hence the tiny siphon and capacitor.

  It really was a good way of maximizing cost to effectiveness, seeing as all three lens sandwiches could probably fit on the tip of his finger, they must have been relatively inexpensive.

  The most important thing was that the design gave Jeb a good idea on how to create a system that could create controllable monsters. Controllable anything, really.

  Let’s see, we’re limited by the smallest part, which would be the Very Small control lens, about the size of a quarter. I could do...giant scarabs…giant worms…

  To be on the safe side, he wouldn’t make anything bigger than a horse… No, I don’t think they’ll be useful like that.

  There was no guarantee the creatures would be robust enough to assist them in any meaningful way. In a system where Attributes like Body were a factor, couldn’t people and monsters with lots of it swing way above their weight class?

  How was he supposed to know how much Body a created creature had, anyway? Jeb doubted it would be very high from the get-go, so even if he made death-worms the size of buses, if they got torn through like tissue paper, he’d be at a loss.

  If not summons, then what?

  Jeb immediately thought of slapping the Control Lens together with the Pure Flame lens and making the equivalent of a lightsaber.

  As drool-worthy as that was, it was little more than a fancy toy. Would a flame-sword be cool? Yes. Did they need a flame-sword? No.

  Did they need an automagic smelter/shaper? Well, probably not, but it had more utility than a flame-sword.

  Jeb’s idea was to take the pure flame lens and pair it with the Control Lens, along with the small regulator riding shotgun, with a Control lens salvaged from the lantern affixed to the output on the regulator.

  That should give me what I want…but I should test it before I get too far into this.

  Jeb pried one of the five sandwiches of lenses out of the lantern, then peeled them apart using the edge of the blade. Once he had the miniscule lens separated, he gently attached it to the front of the pinhole where the little iron box released Myst.

  Once that was done, he filled it with Myst and then disconnected himself from it.

  Sure enough, Jeb was able to control the small amount of Myst winding out of the regulator.

  He used the thread of Myst to pick up progressively larger objects, until the rice-grain Control Lens snapped around five pounds, leaving the regulator spilling uncontrolled Myst into the atmosphere.

  Okay, we’re gonna have to make the big Control lens pull double duty.

  Jeb compared the size of his pure flame lens to the other with a frown. With careful cutting, I might be able to get four Very Small lenses out of this one. Just small enough to nestle beside the regulator.

  Alright, let’s try this.

  Jeb hardened a razor-sharp piece of toothed air and dragged it across the side of the lens, cutting it hot-dog style. He made sure to save the dust. Who knew what you could do with lens dust?

  Once he cut it long ways, he cut it down the center, and got four roughly equal parts.

  Jeb pulled out his file and got to work.

  The hours went by as Jeb whittled, first working on the lens, then fitting it in beside the regulator, making sure each of them had a unique section of the Control Lens, and that they wouldn’t overlap with each other.

  Then he went about making a handle for it, carved out of a nearby branch.

  Let’s see, Myst goes in here, Then it gets channeled up and hits the splitter here…

  He was still going over the details when the sun came up, revealing the zombie horde surrounding them in all its dreadful glory. Jeb didn’t have the mind to pay attention to that unimportant fact, though, he was on a roll.

  “Ugh, Jeb, you’re still awake?” Amanda said, wiping sand out of her eyes.

  He paused and glanced at the sun rising above the forest.

  “Umm..yes.”

  Jeb glanced over and spotted Ron passed out under the nearby tree, Jessica sitting on the log above him, surveying the surroundings with a watchful eye.

  “You looked like you were having fun.” Jessica said with a shrug.

  “What’s it do?” Brett asked, glancing at the piece of wo
od in his hand while making breakfast. it looked something like a shitty bike handle with little lumps coming off the side where the regulator and the pure flame lens met.

  “I guess this is my ‘hello world’ Myst crafting proof of concept.” Jeb said, turning it this way and that. “If I’m right, it should serve as a furnace to melt and shape steel.”

  “… But why?”

  “Because I couldn’t think of anything better,” Jeb grumbled.

  “What if you’re wrong?” Jessica asked.

  “I suppose it’ll explode or drip molten steel all over my hands.”

  The three conscious members of the party leaned away from Jeb’s invention.

  “I’m pretty sure it won’t.”

  Jeb turned it over in his hands half a dozen times, reviewing every aspect of the lumpy handle.

  I’ll probably want to add a drip-guard.

  “Let’s see what this thing can do,” Jeb said, picking up a warped piece of the broken metal collar.

  He split his siphoned Myst into two tiny threads, channeling one into the broken collar, while the other he fed into the handle of his invention.

  FWOOSH!

  In the brief moment between the explosive activation of the smelter and Jeb’s instinctive wall of force around it, Jeb lost a week’s worth of beard and his eyebrows.

  At the end of Jeb’s outstretched arm, a pillar of blue flame was manifesting four inches above the lens and reaching a length of ten feet into the sky.

  The thread of Telekinetic Myst leaking out of the regulator, he used to create an enclosure, somewhat diminishing the searing heat.

  If it wasn’t just a jet of flame, that would be good. Maybe I can make a lid that…

  In front of Jeb’s eyes, the snake of blue flame squashed itself down until it was only a few feet tall.

  That’s right, the Control lens. Does that mean…

  He willed the flame to form a tight coil. The brilliant blue flames responded instantly.

  Chuckling, Jeb tossed the wrecked steel collar into the enclosure, holding it there with his Myst.

  The length of flame coiled around the steel like a living thing, like a brilliant blue snake strangling its prey. In seconds, the steel turned dark, then cherry red, then white hot, then it began to spark as it melted, the only thing holding it in place being his Myst.

  “You want a souvenir?” Jeb asked, glancing at Jessica.

  “Pass.”

  “Here goes nothing,” Jeb said, with a grimace, getting ready to pull his hand out from under the molten steel.

  He dropped his Myst.

  The regulator kept working, releasing his Myst as a thin strand that could last for hours. The telekinetic box above his hand was still there. The piece of molten steel lost its shape and dropped to the bottom of the box, causing him to flinch.

  Four inches above his hand, the white hot piece of liquid metal rested on nothing, only projecting a fraction of its heat.

  He split two new strands and created two hands of pure force. Hands were something familiar to Jeb, manipulating the rapidly cooling steel into a shape more suited to his purposes.

  “Holy shit. I love it.” Ron stood in front of Jeb’s creation, practically drooling. Jeb ignored him. He was more focused on what he wanted to use the little bit of steel for.

  Ron stood and pointed a dramatic finger at Jeb’s creation

  “I hereby officially name that, the Blue Serpent Furnace.”

  “Ron…” Jeb said, glancing up at the necromancer with exasperation.

  Name accepted.

  Blue Serpent Furnace (Rare)

  The first Creation by the Human Mystic Trapsmith, Jebediah Trapper, this novel multi-tool was created using rare and valuable lenses. It is most effective in the hands of Wizards with the Telekinetic core or Sub-core.

  The blue Serpent Furnace uses telekinetic force to create any tool imaginable, as well as effectively harnesses the heat of the Pure-Flame lens for smithing, cooking, smelting, or combat purposes. The pure flame resembles a serpent when in use, giving the item its name.

  You have created the highest rarity unique magic item of your species.

  Innovator Accolade Granted!

  Innovator:

  This accolade grants a passive bonus to the preservation and reclamation of materials that would otherwise be wasted in the user’s creations. This bonus only applies to the user’s creations. It is not a bonus to salvaging other’s.

  -If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!

  Jeb read and re-read the notification.

  “Damn it, Ron, you’re lucky you picked a decent name. Or else, I’d have to thump ya.” Jeb said.

  “Please,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “I’ve read enough Xianxia to name an artifact or two.”

  “Not really helping your case, there, Ron.” Brett said.

  Jessica gave a faint smile from where she perched on the log.

  After a couple minutes of fiddling around with the molten steel, Jeb started to get the hang of it, bending and stretching the goopy liquid steel into the rough shape he was imagining. Until he realized there was a much simpler method of getting what he wanted, one that people had been using for millennia.

  How did he do it?

  He cheated. By solidifying some air into the exact shape of the mold he wanted and re-heating the steel, he was able to inject the white-hot liquid into the exact shape he wanted. None of this fumbling around.

  He’d save that for when he wanted to try for something layered or otherwise unique.

  In a matter of minutes, the little hollow cylinder cooled, eventually becoming cool enough to handle by hand.

  “What, um…” Ron asked, frowning at the piece of steel. “What’s this supposed to be?”

  “A better handle,” Jeb said, pulling the lenses and the regulator out and slotting them into the exact place they needed to be before latching the simple hinge back down over it and closing it with a tiny screw. Then he cut a slice of wood and used that to top the handle.

  Over time the wood would char, acting as a…halfway decent buffer between the heat of the furnace and the incredibly heat-conductive handle.

  That was the biggest downside of using a steel handle, but the upside was that the lenses were now safely ensconced in a quarter inch of solid steel. They weren’t gonna get broken without some serious effort behind it.

  On the other hand…

  He glanced over at Ron’s death knight.

  There were people who could probably snap it like a twig.

  Now that he was done with his project, Jeb was incredibly tired. Every fiber of his being wanted to drag him down into the nice soft dirt for a nap.

  But first, they needed to get distance.

  “You can sleep on the palanquin.” Ron said, as if reading Jeb’s mind. The necromancer was pointing over his shoulder at the planks carried by his undead.

  Jeb blinked, his eyes gummy.

  “I can go one more day,” He said, taking three deep breaths, dispelling the fatigue with a rapid intake of oxygen to boost his heart rate. Old tricks, coming in handy.

  They moved.

  Over the course of the day, they cut their way through the forest, heading west, away from the enormous tortoise that was literally spewing monsters into the environment, slowly turning its head their direction.

  The tortoise was turning into the forest.

  Hours could pass and you could barely tell it had shifted at all, but the colossal tortoise was shifting, putting one leg in front of the other. Entering the forest.

  Looking for them.

  Phase two sucks.

  They were halfway across the forest, moving at the fastest pace they could with all the baggage. As with so many things, they were only as fast as their slowest member.

  Max speed was such:

  1.Jeb at about 120MPH through telekinetic flight.

  2.Jessica, pulling 100MPH by dicking with her mass. She could go much faster in short bursts, but the
y were tiresome.

  3.Amanda at a highway 55MPH

  4.Brett at a respectable 50 MPH

  5.Ron at an inhuman 35MPH

  6.Ron’s zombies at about 25 MPH

  They weren’t about to abandon their meat shields. Even if Jeb picked himself and Ron up and they abandoned the rotting fleshbags, they’d be forced to abandon all of their luggage, including the lion’s share of their food and both Ron and the Courvar’s trade goods.

  Now, Jeb wasn’t big on material wealth. Never had been. But this was one of those months where the difference between dying and not dying might depend on putting that enchanted shield Amanda won lying down into the right person’s hands.

  No, they needed more speed. They needed to raise the lowest person’s speed. Best way to do that was by taking people off the list.

  Jeb glanced at Ron’s palanquin.

  Idea!

  Jeb’s carrying capacity was in the tons and growing. He could easily carry all the luggage plus himself simply by lifting a wide piece of wood or fabric.

  Flying carpet type deal.

  But is it worth it? Jeb thought. They were hiding from the torrent of monsters under the safety of the canopy. Carrying everything on a huge platform would only go significantly faster above the snarl of trees.

  Jeb floated up and peeked out of the green leaves.

  The sky was littered with patrolling monsters.

  Nope, Jeb thought, dropping back down into the woods.

  “Seriously, flying is such a cheat.” Ron said, shaking his head as he and the others relaxed on the palanquin.

  “If you earn a telekinesis lens, I’ll make a flying belt for you, if you want. I think I could handle it.”

  “Really!?”

  “It might tear you in half, but still,” Jeb shrugged.

  Ron narrowed his eyes. “I’m still in. Flying is the shit.” Ron’s dedication to ‘magic’ made Jeb crack the first smile of the day.

  The two of them had totally different viewpoints on magic. Ron was dedicated to the ‘form’, what he thought was ‘cool’. He wanted to recreate spells directly out of D&D and Diablo. He was dedicated to making his Myst fit into that box.

  Jeb…Jeb felt more like a mechanic with grease up to his elbows. He didn’t really care whether it was pretty, or what the magic’s name was. His only concern was with performance; what it did.