Well, here is boot 1-3 for posterity's sake after this I will revise this story I have plans better plans now than before. So its all good. Take note that this will only remain here until my revision is finished. After which the original can be found on my (p)atreon page for free starting today.

Boot 1-3

[beginning restoration from backup]

I gasped in heaping lungfuls of air, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, it was dark; I was so, so scared, I did not know when the bad man who hurt mommy and daddy would come back and open my box. Whenever he did, it was only to hurt me.

In time he opened the box, my box. I felt the biting cold of fresh air on naked skin. I-I was naked too. "Well, awake, are we Pet?" he asked, when I refused to answer him. When I continued to struggle. I felt the biting cold steel of a blade on my belly. Instinctively, I tensed my whole body and went rigid. As still as the grave.

"eventually you'll learn, for now I will leave you with this." he slowly drove the knife down into me. I groaned in agony, I felt every inch like a firebrand. It left me breathless, Speechless. My everything was on fire. I wanted to curl up. "You'll break, eventually, they all do." he said, his firm grip on the knife digging around inside me. With a firm jerk, he yanked the knife from my helpless form. And closed the lid to my box. Left me in darkness, pain my only constant.

The constant burning pooling fire in my belly, the sticky, clammy feel of my pooling blood. The bitter cold and rapid pitter patter of my heart, my panting breaths that would never come. Those were all I had to focus on. I did not know how long I was like that. It could have been minutes, days, hours. They all blended together. All I knew was that from time to time he would check open my box and stick me with something. And just like magic, everything would snap back into crystal clear focus. The burning would return with fury. I would scream myself hoarse. Until the real darkness seeped in. the numbing feeling… the cold. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the cold forever. The cold was peace… safe.

~BBBBEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP~

I awoke to the blaring sound of an alarm going off panting, shivering covered in sweat. My power lashed out in a violent wave in response to my panic, my pain, the clear terror that filled me. Carving a perfect sphere around me, effectively destroying the bed, carving a hole in the ground three feet deep. It was like I was back in the dumpster all over again or in my box… I hated the Box.

'The hell was that,' I thought. It all felt so real. I could still feel the knife like a brand on my bare skin. There I lay shivering in terror, curled into as small a target as I could make. My arms wrapped around the burning sensation in my middle. Just trying to process what I had seen, what I lived through. I must have been like that for a long time, the alarm buzzing away in the background. Until it just was not. No one dare approach me. I was grateful for the space I was given. It gave me time to process, time to settle down, to take in my surroundings. To recall where I was.

I was in the Ward's base. Exhaling a tremulous breath, I unwound myself from the tight ball that I had curled up into and looked around.

I was not in the Wards common. No, I was in another room I did not recognise. It was rather obvious that someone had placed me in one of the bedrooms in the Wards base. I could tell by the modular design, how the walls did not quite reach the ceiling. Standing just on this side of the doorway was Armsmaster and the current leader of the Wards Aegis. They had yet to approach me. And for that I was grateful. I shuddered to think what would have happened if they had attempted to approach me. While I was in the middle of my panic attack.

"Are you ok?" Armsmaster Asked me. Clearly looking worried for my well being.

I nodded, as Aegis helped me out of the crater I had made. Looking around what remained of the room. To what I left of the bed and the nightstand next to it, to the small dresser. And yet the object I had been looking for, the C.A.D. was nowhere to be seen. No, there it was or rather what was left of it, it was only after a second look at the remains of the bed. That I saw it, the shattered, partially disintegrated remains. Of what was once my C.A.D., the first gift they gave me in this world. And it really meant a lot to me. And I really wanted it back, With a mournful sigh, I picked up what remains of the device. It must have really cost a lot for them to reverse engineer and build, just based on shoddy chicken scratch designs. I had left behind.

"It'll be alright, we can make another," Armsmaster soothed in an attempt to comfort me. That he is trying really means a lot, it really does. Since I know for a fact that human interactions are not his strong suit. It's something I can relate to. People are messy, complicated, and frustrating at the best of times.

I Nodded grateful that I did not have to explain things.

"Now let's get you cleaned up, I'll show you to the showers and get you a change of clothes." he said, taking my hand into his and leading me out of the temporary room. "And don't worry about the damage, if anything I should thank you. You've provided me with interesting research data."

Ah, right, his 'research,' I had almost forgotten about the Nano-thorn project. Well, at least something good came out of this. If this provided him with more data to work with, then all the better.

He led me to the female locker room and provided me with a bag full of toiletries, a change of clothes, a pen and a notepad. Back to analog for me, yay, haaah… I sighed.

It was the first shower I had in this new body, and it was… an… experience. Is it embarrassing to say that I managed? That my only discomfort was that I was using the girl's locker room. I did not know how tedious it was to have long hair until one of the older female agents had to help me wash my hair. Long hair is a pain in the ass. I had almost considered cutting it, to be honest. Agent Jemma Simmons bless her soul. What would I have done without her? So really, there were no words to express how grateful I was. She had taken the time to show me how to brush, dry, and take care of my hair. And do all the things a mother would for me. I really appreciated it, I really did.

After that amazing shower I walked into the changing room, Swaddled in towels bigger than I was tall. One wrapped around my middle and one around my hair. I opened up the duffel of clothes. And I did not know whether to be angry or amused as I immediately scowled. I was not angry, no; I was more perturbed and just a bit creeped out as I failed to hold back a confused snort of morbid amusement. And not because resting at the top of the bag were panties of several colors, sizes, and types. All ranging from boy shorts to the classical brief type. I had gotten over that and accepted it as an inevitable fact. One tends to let something as simple as that go when their life is turned upside down as mine had been. So no, it was definitely not the underwear that freaked me out so much. It was the fact that everything had an Armsmaster god damned logo on it from the panties to the shirts, pants, and even on a jumpsuit. God, whoever was in charge of his marketing team needed to be shot. Really, if someone would point me at the bastard, I'd drag them out back myself. I'd be doing the hero a favor.

After that small moment of dismay, I let out a sigh and a snort of amusement at the conversation that needed to be had. Then I slipped on a pair of the Armsmaster branded boy shorts™ in my size, the Armsmaster branded camisole™. A pair of branded elastic bike shorts™, then I put on the coveralls. Socks and boots soon followed, also branded and ™. The only thing that was not branded was the blue and silver hair tie I used to tie my hair back and out of my face in a low hanging ponytail. Only because I suspected it was too small for proper branding. It took about thirty-five minutes to get dressed.

After that, they escorted me up to the elevator and then down a few floors. The elevator opened up into a lone hallway. At the other end was a massive, heavy door.

"This is where the tinker workshops are. Arguably the most secure place in the entire building. I have a setup like this on the Rig as well." Armsmaster explained. As we walked down that long corridor. At the end of the hallway, he stood still for a tinker tech Biometric scan. "For now, we will grant you access to these parts of our facilities until we arrange proper guardianship." the hero said. "I know how most Parahumans are with their powers, and if you're anything like I was, then you must be eager to tinker."

I nodded as the door opened up to reveal several more doors along the hallway to the left and to the right of us. We headed to the right. All the way to the end of the hall was our destination. The lab we walked into could only be Armsmaster's lab based on the several suits of power armour and Halberds on docks I looked around in amazement. "For now, you can use my personal lab here in the PRT HQ. I moved any of my active projects to the Rig until we can set up a lab for you here." Armsmaster said.

I hugged him in thanks. Before eagerly settling in. first things first what did I want to build first. I noticed whenever I made use of this aspect of my power. Unlike in all the Tinker of fanfiction, I read. There were no rotating 'skill trees', no particular games or power sets my specialty was based on. Rather it was based on what inspired me, what I saw when I drew my inspiration from someone, an example would be when I looked at Armsmaster I could not help but think of his future self, and draw comparisons to Captain America, then almost instantly I found the super soldier formula that would make him better pop into my minds eye. Or the symbiotes for Amy, and a certain Radioactive spider for Taylor.

But the question was, what did I see for myself? A warm feeling filled my chest. As a small smile graced my face, I was limitless. I saw so many possibilities, so many paths. There was nothing I could not build. I found comfort in that as my hands went to work, as I instinctively used the tools and materials at my disposal.

I found time flying by as I soldered hand crafted miniaturized circuits, With one hand while multitasking with the other writing lines of code. Moulded plastics popped out of the fabricator, as I inserted a tiny custom made hard light projector into the new device. I had a hand crafted computational drive installed in seconds. At this point it was all but finished, a device no bigger than a cell phone, and half as wide. What I held in my hand amounted to a supercomputer that would give any tinker tech option a run for its money. Best part, it could act like a phone and be disguised as a bracelet too. My casting device was finished and yet I was not satisfied. No where close.

I wanted to do more, and even as I thought about that, images, designs, formula, and even schematics. For the greatest of inventions flowed through my mind's eye. I smiled as I settled on my choice. It was certainly ambitious. But I wanted to make a statement. If I wanted to not just survive but thrive, then I needed to make a statement, a declaration of war, that no, I will not go silently into the dark.

That no matter who it was I would fight, no matter who stood in my way, whether it be Cauldron, Coil, Accord, The Fallen, or even Zion. no one would stop me.

As I started on my second project firing up the forge once more, the door to the lab opened up once more, Armsmaster entered, and he was not alone, trailing him was a woman of obvious Asian descent. She looked rather unassuming with her gray pencil skirt, white blouse and glasses. Wait, when had Armsmaster even left? With a shrug, I went back to work at the forge after giving the two a quick once over.

A magic crest spread out, encompassing the forge. The orange glow of the firelight turned an azure blue. With bare hands, I reached into the fire of the forge. It felt cold to the touch and from it I pulled crystalized jewels of my mana. I repeated the process six more times until the fires died out.

These jewels made of my essence were bound in silver, gold, mercury, copper, lead, iron and tin. The imperial metals that represented the celestial bodies. Each thrummed with other worldly power floating out of my grasp, rotating around each other. Until seven became six, then five, four, three, two, until all were one. And from it was born a single jewel that floated down into my palm.

With this, I had just created the first steps in my revolution. I had just created a Mother Trigger, and a Crown Trigger. It was rather small, yes, but that was because it stored most of its bulk in extra-dimensional space. And it would grow in time, siphoning off the ambient mana I produced. With no sacrifice. Honestly, I could use a sacrifice to immediately bring the Trigger to full power. That is just something I don't need. Since I don't need to maintain a planet in a pocket dimension.

"Alex, how about taking a break? You've been at this for five hours." Armsmaster asked, now that I was done tinkering. "There is someone who we would like for you to talk to."

"My name is Dr. Jessica Yamada." she said, taking her cue to introduce herself.

I waved a silent hello, the crystalline star that was the Mother trigger floating behind me strobing softly with golden light. 'I'm Alex.'

Well, my display of power did not surprise her. Taking the gold letters of my sky writing in stride. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Alex." she said with a smile, "would you like to join us for lunch?"

With a nod I hopped off the bench I perched upon clipping the Crown trigger to my device. I had plans for it, but that could wait for later, for now I simply wrapped my device around my wrist like a bracelet. And followed them to the mess hall.

Armsmaster kept eyeing the floating Crystal the whole way. "Alex, what is this thing that you've made?" he asked. Based on his thousand-yard stare, he was struggling to comprehend the readings his suit was showing. "It's taking in and giving off the same extra dimensional anomalies you generate."

I grinned, failing to keep excitement off my face, "it's a generator, right now I'm actively charging it like a battery. But soon it will generate and be able to store its own Psion, and pushons/Trions."

"Hm, so it's a power source?" he asked, I nodded, "but for what?"

My grin was starting to hurt. My smug all but visible, "that would be telling, but since you're my favorite, I'll spill…" These next words I made sure only Armsmaster could see. "It's for a general use device called a Trigger."

The hero froze, almost running into a wall, "you mean…"

I gave him a single nod of affirmation.

"Then…" yeah it seems he understood. I would not speak of this even if I could. The fact that I am a 'power' granting tinker with the ability for mass production is already astounding. Nevermind what I had in mind. I intend to put all other tinkers to shame. And it just so happens that I have the seed money to make it happen.

Dr. Yamada's professionalism rather impressed me. She had yet to even bother to ask what we were talking about. That led me to believe that either this is common for tinkers or she was so used to this. That she really could keep confidentiality… and I was leaning toward the latter given the whole thing with Eidolon… the very moment I think about that dumb dumb. I ran into a goddamned wall. An image, err, solution? Flashed in my mind's eye completely distracting me, fuck really power. I did not need to whammy Eidolon with a Giess. no way, No sir, bad paths abound, bad ends, a death flag that is. Nuh uh, there is no way I'll even get close to that man without serious contingencies in place. Like literally all the overkill, and maybe a few summoned servants and perhaps Fou, a literal beast of Calamity, the Primate murder who holds dominion over man. Excessive? Quite possibly, but the better question is, do I care?

The rousing answer to that would be no, no I do not. For I believe anyone or anything that wants me dead or enslaved, deserves all the murder, like literally all the murder, fire, brimstone, death, and evisceration. I will salt the ashes with their remains. To the point that collateral damage would just be a mere afterthought, a suggestion. A whisper on the winds of my ever evolving chaos, death and destruction. Oh, the havoc I would wreak would make Zion blush and look like a toddler throwing a right tanty.

"Are you ok?" Dr. Yamada asked. Ever so helpful, breaking me out of my power fueled rant/ thoughts of disproportionate violence.

'Yes, thank you. I got distracted by a new idea.' I replied.

At long last we finally made it to the cafe. And joy of joys it was an all you can eat buffet. Best of all, it was Italian day. When it was our turn in line, Armsmaster stared at me in disbelief as I piled my plate high with a heaping helping of a rather large salad with French dressing, and four, yes, four thick cut slices of cheesy garlic bread.

I deliberately ignored the muttered comment from Armsmaster, "I thought Miss Dallon was exaggerating. She's like a little black hole…" as we sat down to eat. I was just hungry. It's not my fault, really it's not, honest.

Comments about my appetite aside, it was an enjoyable meal. Once finished, we headed back to the lab.

I was about to tinker once more; I needed a helper capable of general assembly. Several A.I. came to mind, Jarvis, Ultron, err yeah no, a Haro, perhaps a Tachikoma, or even Yui. but they waylaid me just as I sat down at the pc. "Before you start how about we have a quick chat?" Dr. Yamada asked.

I nodded my affirmation, I'd really rather not talk to a therapist. But I would rather not have a mental breakdown in the middle of combat, or worse. So therapy it is.

Armsmaster gave her a nod and left the room, leaving me with her in the room.

"Before we start, I'd like you to know that we can stop at any time for any reason. If you're feeling uncomfortable or even just don't want to talk about something just say so, ok?"

'Ok,' I wrote in my ghostly script as she led me over to a couch next to a wall that definitely was not there before. Tinker tech couch?

"I heard that there was an incident this morning. Would you like to talk about it?" she asked.

Ah, so she heard about it. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I sat there for a while. What could I say honestly? It was all horrible. If I thought about it, I could almost feel the knife sliding in. it was more horrible, more visceral than my assault, it left more of a mark. I was scared so, so scared. Utterly terrified, in fact. What would I do if he found me, if he wanted to make me his toy once more? I couldn't die. So the prospect of Jack getting his hands on me was entirely unacceptable.

'No, not really… but…' I chewed on a fingernail as a pit formed in my stomach.

All the while, miss. Yamada sat silently, waiting. 'I feel I need to. I had a nightmare, about my time with the Nine.'

I could see it, the widening of her eyes, her hands balling up into fists in her lap. As I continued, 'Jack called me his pet, his toy. I was a thing to use and abuse. Only I don't die, I can't break, no matter how hard he "played" with me.' And so I told her everything I could remember about that dream, my assault, and we talked for a long time. I'd like to think that by the end I felt better getting my worries off my chest.