Archer: Shards

An average person from our world, I had just finished a CYOA for Worm, the web serial that likes to tear down the superhero genre. I went to make them as broken as I could without taking the highest-level powers, and was sucked in. My story? Read on!

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A crack rang through the room I was in, having cracked my neck. I was sitting in front of my computer, just now having completed the CYOA I was working on. I had chosen to use the Gimel version, due to wanting to make the most broken character I could out of the least broken version, without choosing the highest tier powers. It came out like this-

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Worm CYOA, Version 5 Update Gimel

Points Remaining- 1/1

Character-

Gestation +15/15

Hero-New Wave -1/1

Insert-Male-Teenager-High Schooler -0/0

Thematic -3/0

Martial Arts -4/0

Tactics -4/0

Foreign Element -3/3

Perks-Powers

x2-Second Trigger -4/3

Case 53 +0/1 (Cat Ears)

Humble Beginnings +5/5

Plot Relevance

Power Sight -0/1

Unlimited Shard Works -0/7 (Second Trigger)

True or False -0/3 (Second Trigger)

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'Not too bad, I believe. Of course, if it is ever known what I imagine this character to be able to do, it would have a PRT rating of Trump-12+, Thinker 5 or so. It'll copy the powers of any Parahuman put against them, be able to ask enough questions to guess near-enough the limits of those powers, use any mental powers, and have them copied permanently. Due to Foreign Element, they're also able to mix and match pieces of those powers, which should also be stronger. Like the parallel thinking of Queen Administrator combined with, say, the hard-light shields of those that have them in New Wave, controlling each independently.'

While I was thinking on how the people who made this didn't catch this loophole, it had finished printing. I had been planning on showing this to several people and see what they thought of it. Of course, that was never going to happen, due to the words on the piece of paper I had picked up shuddering, before ghostly copies drifted off the page and up into the air. The spectral words then shot into my chest, and I dropped the paper. A moment later, I was sucked into the same spot those words disappeared into.

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When you read a Self-Insert or OC-Insert story, that character is usually aware of what's going on, or at least that they've been reborn, as soon as their born. It wasn't like that for me. I slowly regained my memories over the course of a year, after I had Triggered. In this life, I was named James Greenwood. I was born to two loving parents, who raised me for the next nine years in, as cliché as it is, Brockton Bay. It was during the summer after fifth grade ended, and we were going out for my birthday (9th) on the day they died. We were caught up in a minor skirmish between the E88 and the Merchants. It took around 10 minutes of the 'Heroes' to get there, and at some point, my parents were killed.

I remember wishing had some power, any power, so that I could have helped them before they died. It was soon after that the Heroes had arrived, and by then the fight was almost over. I was sent to the only remaining family I had, my grandfather, who was a retired Parahuman from the PRT. He was called Archer, because his power made him shoot perfectly wherever he aimed, with the he used arrows being generated from seemingly nothing. His ability was limited, it did not make him always hit, instead the arrow will always fly through the space he wanted it to. It also didn't work with guns.

We had figured out the copying aspect of my power after grandfather demonstrated his for me. I wanted to try, so he chuckled and gave me his bow so I could. I still think he was expecting me to fail so he could tease me. I had failed to remember his abilities came from his power, and at that point my cat ears, which had been buried under my hair until then, unfolded. That shocked him quite a bit, and me actually using my copy his power shocked him even more. He mused on whether I was a Trump, and I asked the same question of myself. Of course, that activated my other power, telling me yes, which I then informed him of. He asked me if I was also a Thinker, I asked myself, and got a yes again. We kept asking questions and getting answers, trying to find the limits to my powers. It seemed the only limit to my Thinker power was that they had to be yes/no questions. If the answers didn't lean towards one or the other, I would get what are commonly known as Thinker headaches. For the next six years, grandfather kept me as far away from the fighting as he could, until he passed away of old age when I was fifteen, part way through the school year and a few days after New Year's. The school I went to obviously being Winslow, because of me not caring enough about my grades to get into Arcadia. He had been quite mischievous while raising me, getting me to take up a verbal quirk, Nya, like you see in anime with cat/Neko people. I can't stop myself from saying it unless I speak carefully, as it's pretty much ingrained by now. Nor do I really want to, as it's one of the few things I have remaining from my grandfather, other than his house and his old bow.

It about when my grandfather died that I regained the last few memories I had of my old life, including those of a certain web serial called Worm. Taylor Hebert, the main character of the story, was in another classroom and I couldn't do anything to help her with the locker. On that day, I was doing something else, as to continue with the clichés. On that day was my grandfather's funeral. And this is where my story truly, Begins!

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My grandfather's funeral ended around three hours ago, the school about one. Yesterday, I left my bag at the school. They figured out it was mine, and called to tell me that I had to retrieve it or it would be thrown out before school tomorrow. I entered the building quickly and went to the classroom they told me it would be in. They were too lazy to even move it anywhere else. On my way to the classroom specified, I came across the strange sight of a lot of bugs surrounding a locker that had the most disgusting smell I could remember from either life. 'Huh. Was that caused by a cape?' when I asked the question, I had forgotten about True or False, which told me yes. For some reason, I had a growing feeling of dread.

'Was it a new Trigger?'

Yes

'Was it another one of those three's pranks?'

Yes

'Is the person in the locker Taylor Hebert?'

Yes

It was then I remembered the beginning of the web serial, and Taylor's Trigger Event. That explained my dread. I quickly used one part of my grandfather's power to form an arrow, which I proceeded to stab into the lock. With the lock broken, I could take a look at what had happened to Taylor in her time in the locker. It was... not a pretty sight, to say the least. She had various wounds of many severities, most of them looking infected, I could still see bugs trying to eat her. I assume her power is stopping them from doing so, instead they were crawling across her. With a quick command, all bugs in my range, which was a fair bit further than hers, went as far away as they could. It was quite obvious why I remember most fanfiction starting from this point bring in Panacea to heal her. I was quick to call 911.

"911 what is your emergency?" I heard someone respond, in a bit of a bored tone.

"I have a girl here who was trapped in a locker filled with what amounts to toxic waste for the past four hours. She was being eaten alive by bugs, and most of her wounds are infected." I answered quickly.

This time, the person on the other end sounded much more alert. "Where are you calling from?"

"Winslow high school, from the main office go down the hallway, then the second hallway on the left. Down that hallway, and then the first on the right," after I gave the directions, they hung up, hopefully to call an ambulance and pass along my directions. While I waited, I took a few pictures. While fanfiction shouldn't, couldn't be taken as absolute, Winslow was bad and I wasn't about to take chances.

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It was about 3 minutes before the ambulance arrived, and the medical personnel ran to where I was. When they got here, they paused for a moment as they saw her. Understandable, and they recovered remarkably quickly. They didn't say anything to me, simply put Taylor on the stretcher and brought me along with them. They occasionally glanced at my cat ears, which were twitching all over the place because of how angry I was, but didn't comment. Right now, I didn't really care that I was outing myself, I was too angry and my civilian identity had nothing they could use as leverage. I had no friends, and the last of my family was my grandfather. On the way to the ambulance, there were several people watching, having hear the sirens and wondered what they were doing in a school. I didn't even bother trying to hid myself, it would be useless anyway, too many people recording as soon as they saw my ears. We quickly got into the vehicles and drove away.

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When we got to the hospital, Taylor was put into one of the emergency rooms. Luckily for us, Panacea was on her shift at the moment, due to it being so soon after school hours. She was called down to the room, before we even arrived, and was waiting there for us. One of the doctors gestured for me to tell her what I had seen, not having the time to really examine her during the time it took to make sure she didn't die. The story described her remarkably well, I mused as she looked to me for an explanation.

"As far as I can tell," I started, with a cold anger. "she was trapped in her school locker four-six hours, cramped on top of what is best classified as a combination of biological waste, her own blood and bile, along with whatever small number of bugs that were eating her alive for most of that time that she killed with her thrashing. Most of her wounds seem to be infected, and her fingernails are partially torn off due to her trying to claw the door off. There might be more injuries, but that was as far as I could tell."

She looked horrified through my retelling, and had already gone ahead and started healing Taylor partway through without asking permission. I approved. While I am slightly saddened neither of us had a choice in the matter, my power copied hers as soon as I saw her use it, along with the bio-sight aspect. I walked over and started to copy and help along what Panacea was doing with Taylor's biology, which surprised her, although she seemed grateful for it. Fortunately, she held off on the questions until after we were finished. It was rather interesting what we were doing, as it was based around biokinetics we were using the biomass of herself, the waste, practically everything covering her other than her clothes. It was after Taylor was fully healed, which was almost instantly, when the questions started.

"How?" one word, yet it was all that was needed.

I flicked an ear at her, and she blushed lightly, although she kept staring at me. I sighed, "I am a Trump. I create a copy of any power I see used right in front of me instantly. The powers I copy are always stronger in some way, and I can see powers and their mental effects, which I can also copy. I can also use separate aspects of different powers synergistically with others." I saw her give an involuntary shiver at this, which I could understand. It was a rather terrifying power, I admit. "I can also see the hard-coded limits of those powers, like you with brains, inability to do anything other than healing even if it does use bio-kinetics," I gave her a look, "inability to heal yourself, and the time it takes you to heal people. My power disregards all of those. Hard-coded, because other than a couple of Trump powers, you cannot change that. If I obtained a Mover power I would go faster, Thinker I would get more information with fewer headaches, with a Brute I would be stronger, ect." I finished my explanation there.

She was speechless for several seconds, before commentating on what I said, "That would be... Trump 10, at least. Almost certainly 12+. That, is terrifying." She certainly looked scared. I smiled soothingly at her.

"Best part is? After today, I don't have a civilian identity. Kind of hard to, after being caught on quite a few cameras without my ears hidden," I watched her as she thought through what I said. She was a smart girl, so it didn't take her very long to work through and figure out the meaning of what I said.

"You- want to join New Wave!?" She sounded quite astonished. I continued smiling.

"Yup! My grandfather was very good friends with yours, Nya~!" She stared at me for a minute, while I managed to look both horrified and nostalgic at the same time. She then proceeded to laugh her head off, rolling on the floor.

"Did-did you seriously just say Nya?"

"Yes, when my grandfather took me in after m-my parents died, we were testing out my powers, and my cat ears popped up. Ever since, he tried everything he could to make me say it. By now, it's just habit. Even still, I don't want to stop. It's one of the few things I have to remember him by, now." My voice got quieter towards the end, enough so that I wasn't entirely certain that she heard me. Evidentially she did, because soon after I finished speaking, she got up and hugged me. It was a bit awkward, I doubted she often tried to comfort someone whose family died, and mostly only hugged her sister in the first place, yet I still appreciated it.

She let go or me after a minute, and continued with the conversation of me possibly joining New Wave. "If you really want to join, we'll have to talk to the rest of our group about it."

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I think I'll end this here. So, this came about while I was thinking on one of my other stories, remembered this particular CYOA, and wondered if anyone else had thought of this loophole. The only reason this has a chance of being as broken as I imagine it to be is because I think of Abaddon Shards as either increasing or removing certain limits on powers. Parts of it are almost entirely broken, say using the parallel thought processes of Queen Administrator, layering effect of Skidmark's power, and then you can either layer those hard-light shields of the Dallon's, or control a lot of them independently from one another.