So I would like to start things off by saying sorry for the long absence. Things in my life have been hectic for the last couple of months (May in particular.) I won't get into details other than to say life got in the way and sucked all of my free time up for posting. I got quite the backlog of chapters, however. So look forward to getting them in time.

At some point, the Undersiders had left once the timer on the gateway had expired. Thanks to that, I had the time to fix the house as they left. I gave each of them a small Augmented Reality and communications device based on the designs of the same device found in one of my favorite games, Horizon Zero Dawn. I had plans to miniaturize it even further and incorporate it into a custom-built device of my own making. But for the purposes I had in mind, it would do for now.

Now that I was by myself, time seemed to pass me by in a blur. Before I knew it, fifteen hours had passed. That meant I had effectively spent forty-five days in accelerated time.

I had already worked my way through several C.A.D. designs with varying success on both specialized and multipurpose designs. And while it was now to the acceptable level that I could call combat capable.

I was already looking to construct the next iteration of C.A.D, one that could be operated with just a thought. Already I was on the cusp of a technological revolution. I could feel it in my bones. If I could get this to work, then I would be that much closer to my goal.

I could picture it in my mind already. It was a grand design, multifaceted in its use, infinitely complex, with interlocking parts that existed in multiple dimensions, fractaline in nature.

I readily threw myself into my work. I was already eagerly learning and then recreating my own coding language based on a cross between the Midchildan, ancient Belken, modern Belka magic systems, from Nanoha and the runic codes of modern and ancient mage craft of Fate. Something that came to me all too easily.

Abruptly, I was spun around in my chair to come face to face with Kaley. "So squirt, what you up to?" she teased.

Blinking blearily, I rubbed the spots out of my eyes from the bright screens. 'God, what time even was it?' I silently grumbled.

"You forgot, didn't you?" she snorted.

'What?' I asked. I was honestly confused. Once the Undersiders left, I had basically lost track of time.

"It's ten…"

"In the morning…"

That this didn't register to me should have been worrying to me. But then again, nearly two thousand hours or seventy-five days and nine hours of almost continuous consciousness couldn't be good for anyone. I was just lucky I wasn't hallucinating that Flubar, King of the Mole Men, ran the government.

'Oh, was that all?' I sighed in relief.

"On Sunday…"

…

…

…

'Shit!' With wide eyes, I spun back around in my chair. How could I possibly have lost so much time while working on my Magnum opus. My fingers glided over the keyboard as I desperately reviewed my logs. Several of my projects had several time sensitive steps that required my personal attention. If I missed them, then i would have to start all over.

My panic eased as I looked through the logs, the coding for Gaia and her ancillary slaved A.I. was coming along quite nicely, already incorporating my custom coding, down in the dry dock the Edens Zeroth just beginning its construction right on schedule with the 'Keel' of the ship nearly finished, while Witch, Hermit, and Pino's bodies had already finished construction. All that was left was to finish their coding. And awaken them.

Then there was my master project, my Magnum opus. I swallowed thickly as I went over the reports I had. It was a masterpiece, each mechanism interlocked in impossible ways, impossibly complex, yet rugged and durable enough to survive a nuclear explosion. With parts that slipped in and out of this reality with each keystroke. Enki had done well. The little guy had far surpassed my expectations. Just like I had planned, this device would advance with each and every successive improvement.

Honestly, I could stare at it forever and not get bored, but I pulled myself away from the screens with a sigh of relief.

So this is what a 'tinker fugue' was…

I stumbled, getting out of the chair. I was grateful for the assistance when Kaley lent me an arm. 'Thanks' I said tiredly, now that I wasn't so absorbed in my work, it seemed that I couldn't find the strength to stand, never mind walk. My legs trembled underneath me, refusing to work.

Kaley picked me up in her arms with no trouble at all. "Let me help you with that."

"Why don't you get some rest, then we can have our session." She said as she followed the ever so helpful marked path Enki had laid out to my quarters.

'Ok,' I yawn tiredly, already nodding off in her arms. I was out like a light before we even made it to my room.

]|[

He hated this. Staying here with his dad, Greg hated him with a passion. Much like his Uncle Frank. His father was an avid Empire supporter. His father Donald 'don' Tapper, wholeheartedly believed in the cause, believed in making him into a 'real man.' He thought that the blacks and Jews should know their place and serve their betters. That the faggots and trannies were an immoral scourge infecting the minds of our youth. He was a staunch believer, even if he wasn't a part of the gang.

He missed his mom. He wanted to go home more than anything. 'God…' he thought as he laid on an all too lumpy ratty mattress that served as his bed in his dingy room with its all too thin walls. 'I haven't been home since I signed on.'

He wanted to go home, but just the thought of how his mom would look at him if she saw him like this… it… it filled him with shame.

Even now, he could hear the not so quite indistinct grumblings of his old man and his Empire buddies playing poker in the kitchen down below.

"Hey Frank? Do you think my boy's ready yet?" he heard his loud mouth of a father ask loudly.

"I don't know yet, Don," Frank said, while taking a swig of his beer. "You'd have to ask the boss." he nodded in deference to the man sitting next to him.

"Well…" Brad paused, taking a puff from his cigar. "Your kid's been doing pretty good so far. The boy learns quick, he's dedicated, but…"

"But?" don urged in eager anticipation.

Brad sighed, scowling at Don. As much as he liked and respected Don, he wasn't Empire, sure he was an avid supporter of the cause, believed in his duty to his country and served in the military even. He was a class act of how the Aryan nation should act. A tried-and-true believer through and through. His service was the only reason he had let the man's son join, despite the poison fed into the boy's ears by his ex-wife, the dyke race traitor she is.

"You're not Empire man, I can't tell you that kind of stuff…" he sighed softly. He didn't want to spell it out like this, but he felt he had no choice.

"I'd join if you let me…" Don declared, puffing up his chest in defiance.

"No!" Brad no, Hookwolf growled, unconsciously shredding his cigar in frustration, accidentally letting the wolf slip out. "You already did your part, you served your country, you have given more than enough to the cause." He said this time more softly in reference to the other man's missing leg. "You've earned your rest. Why not enjoy it?"

"Now I need another smoke," Brad grumbled, sighing with mirth. "I can tell you this, though. You raised a good kid. He has his head on straight. He'll be ready soon. Trust me."

"Ok, it's just frustrating not being able to help, you know?" Don grumbled softly. He sounded defeated almost.

"I know." Brad admitted, a flicker of something like regret crossing his face, if only for a moment. "Now let's get back to the game." he grinned. "it's high time I cleaned you schmucks out. I needed a new pair of boots anyway." he jested.

"Ha, like that'll happen. Your poker face is shit." Frank snorted.

]|[

"Hello Colin," Dragon greeted, her avatar popping up on a screen within his lab aboard the Rig.

"Hello Dragon," he tersely greeted in return.

"Did you have any luck in the case on your end?" she asked

"No, not really. Everything is quiet on the gangland front. The Empire isn't even claiming responsibility for the last slayings." He admitted, "however, I did find something interesting regarding the Can of pepper spray."

Pulling up the document on his terminal, Colin sent her the relevant information.

"When I did my initial examinations of the aerosolized contents of the Pepper spray, I found nothing out of the ordinary. Its chemical markers matched those of similar compounds found in most commercially available or home-made products. That was why I thought it wasn't a tinker who was behind this. Granted that I still do not believe that the subject in question is a tinker, but a once in a lifetime unparalleled genius. But with the way the gangs were reacting, I felt it only prudent that I take a closer look. There had to be a reason behind all this. So I thoroughly analyzed the chemical makeup of the spray again. Only I got the same results, from a sample that was at this point already more than a week old."

"That shouldn't be possible…" Dragon gasped in shock.

"Yes, exactly. There should have been some degradation, at the very least. These types of compounds have a short half-life," Colin grinned, "That's not all, I was able to reverse engineer the formula then replicate it without using tinkertech!" he exclaimed "I had to invent a whole new spectrometer and other more precise lab equipment just to get the job done!" he exclaimed, to Dragon he sounded excited, almost.

"I'm glad I did too, because my new equipment helped me discover why that was." Colin sent her another more detailed packet of information, with his most recent lab results.

"Look at the chemical markers here, here, and here. Tell me, Dragon, what do you see?"

It took her a moment to go through his work, but she eventually found what he was talking about. She had seen something like this before, in a South American hero called EL Chinche who had the odd power to absorb the venom of venomous wildlife, then use it with his striker power, he called it his venom blast, and his favored creature to use was the Bullet ant. "these are…"

"Yes, they bear a striking resemblance to the chemical markers of bullet ants, Venom. Just like that parahuman from Brazil…" At this point, Colin's grin was positively smug. What he hadn't mentioned was that no one heard what happened to him after his run in with the Sinaloa Cartels chief enforcer Cadejo. Personally Dragon thought him either dead or turned. "And this is from what remained of the spent can found at the last crime scene."

This time, when he pulled up the next results, she did not know what she was looking at. She didn't recognize these compounds at all.

"C-Colin, what is-"

"It's from a plant," he said, interrupting her before she could finish. "It took me a while to figure it out, I'll admit, but I narrowed it down to flora indigenous to Australia. My bet is it's most likely the Gimpy-Gimpy, just one of the many venomous plants native to Australia. It was just one of many plants experimented on after that crazy Australian plant based Bio-tinker, Biome set-up shop."

Again, what Colin hadn't mentioned was that soon after Biome 'set up shop,' they found her dead, not long after her debut. It was presumed from what little of her remains they found, her own creations had devoured her. Honestly, who makes a literal man eating plant with deadly venom stingers capable of launching up to twenty meters, and thinks yes this is a perfectly rational and logical idea? Thankfully, that particular level five biohazard was a one of a kind creation. Fucking Aussies, nutters the lot of them.

Dragon felt that this was a common occurrence for a lot of Australian capes, thanks to their clear lack of sanity. Then again, coming from a continent where even the grass can and will kill you, thanks to the villainous machinations of Biome as short as her reign was. Yes, it was true that a lot of weird capes came out of that hellhole, like Shepard, formerly the super villain Sheep-man, a man with the ability to transform farm animals into monstrous forms much like Brockton Bay's own Hellhound. He was Infamous for his 'dalliances' with and fondness of his mighty battle sheep Sheeptar the mighty fluffer. At least until she died in a battle against Behemoth. Or even Primal Fire, a parahuman pyrokinetic/ dynakinetic with power as great as his ego was large, he believed that his power was so great that he could even take down an Endbringer, Behemoth proved him wrong at the Bruce Nuclear power center in Ontario in 2008. Turns out that he, in fact, could not handle Nuclear fire.

"-agon! -ragon! Hey Dragon, are you still there?"

From within her servers, Dragon all but jumped in shock, her avatar doing the virtual equivalent on Colin's screen. "I'm sorry Colin, I got distracted," she apologized, a flush of embarrassment coloring her digital cheeks.

"Hmm, that is unusual for you. What were you thinking about?"

"Ah um, the cape scene in Australia." she admitted.

"Yes… well, it's best not to think about them." Colin grunted.

"Yes, let's pickup where you left off," Dragon agreed.

"No, that won't be necessary. I've already sent you the relevant information on the samples. There was another thing that I found when analyzing the remains of the spent canister." Now he looked positively giddy. "I found blood Dragon, it's the first mistake this mystery inventor has made and while the sample was too degraded to get a clear result, I was able to make a basic genetic profile. We're looking for a female, blonde hair, of middle eastern descent."

"Then that means we're a step closer to figuring out who it is." Dragon said.

"Yes, I just hope that all of this is worth it in the end." Colin grimly nodded.

]|[

The man known as Thomas Calvert A.K.A Coil was conflicted. Resting on his desk in his hidden underground bunker was a small velvet box, the proof of his Tattletale's success. When he had received it from his Tattletale herself during her debriefing. He immediately split the time lines. In one, he debriefed her and took the box. In the other, he had her thoroughly interrogated, as a matter of course. Fingers were broken, holes were drilled, teeth were pulled. On and on it went for days, no matter what they did to her, whether he severed fingers, removed an eye, broke her kneecaps, had her drugged into a stupor, or even forced her to be raped for days on end. She always gave him some variation of the same answer.

"I did what you asked. She is on board! Please make it stop, stop hurting me! Why are you doing this?" she would whine over and over, begging for it all to end.

All of that happened in just mere moments, as he closed off timeline after timeline, only to open up a new one just to subject her to any new horrors he could come up with. The shudder and sheer revulsion that it brought to his Tattletales face, as he smiled in delight, made it all worth that work in the end.

He hadn't bothered to question any of the others. Why would he waste his time with that when his Tattletale for all her bluster was the weakest link. In all of his timelines where he tortured the Undersiders, she was always the first one to break.

Opening up the box revealed a clever little device, no bigger than a nickel, shaped like a triangle. Before he even considered using the device to connect to his new pet, he felt it only prudent that he test the waters as it were, so In his other timeline he waited until his new pet and her caregivers were all in one place just after school let out. Then he connected with the strike team he had surveilling her domicile.

"You are clear to go…"

"Roger that boss." his strike team leader said back.

Watching through the body cameras that each of his men wore, he heard more than saw as the two vans skidded to a stop outside their house. Saw as the side doors on the white paneled vans slid open…

His men never stood a chance. What came next was carnage, pure and simple.

"Where under fire!" He heard his commander call out, as silent, stealthy panther-like hunter machines briefly revealed themselves only to attack from their hidden perches to launch ultra dense impossibly sharp darts from their shoulder mounted launchers. That cut through even the best tinker enhanced armor he could equip his men with. Then, like they never were, they faded away into the night, only to attack from another yet unseen direction. When they closed the distance, they tore into his men with their razor-sharp claws and with the dagger-like spike at the end of their prehensile tails.

Up above from the air, with a digital screech, machines with a distinctly avian appearance like that of a vulture came swooping down from on high, spraying his men from a range with a liquid that choked the air or froze on contact, causing almost instant severe frostbite on exposed skin. When they got close, they tore flesh from bone with their crushing talons.

The device that sat innocuously on his desk, the Focus flickered to life, glowing red, and he dropped the timeline. 'How did she have that kind of production capability so soon?' he scowled at the black box.

He started up a new timeline. In this one he did not wait, no he opted to take a different approach, knowing of the details of the investigation into the homeless murders, thanks partly because of his own involvement. And the moles he had in the task force and the police. He knew the exact routine of her father. It was a trivial matter to have the man abducted.

From the moment his other team made contact to inform his pet of her new circumstances, things went to shit. All he could do was watch on from the body cameras as his men died screaming. One was crushed into a morass of human viscera, another simply vanished into dust. While the final one was torn apart. It wasn't ten minutes later that he felt an intense burst of something then black; the timeline collapsing in on itself with his sudden and abrupt death.

He grit his teeth, as he tried and failed any number of things in his throwaway timelines, throughout the night and into the next morning, when finally he collapsed this timeline where he spent the night in his base futilely as well. Opting to keep the timeline were as Thomas Calvert, he had a full night's sleep.

Once he was back at his base, he stared at the accursed device that was the bane of his existence. With no other option, he split his timelines. In one, he put the device to his temple. The moment he did, it connected.

'Hello Thomas…' she greeted. He could see how she looked at him with naught a bit of fear through the augmented reality display that spread out before him.

How was it was this simple greeting that turned his blood to ice and not what he had witnessed from the girl in all of his discarded timelines. He discarded the timeline where he showed his shock.

"Hello Ms. Miles." he smoothly greeted in return.

'I take it since you're wearing that focus that you are ready to talk terms?' she coldly asked, ignoring his use of her name with an amused, silent snort.

"Yes," Thomas grit out.

'Good,' she smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. It was full of manic glee, a silent promise that she could and would do horrible things to him. 'The Undersiders are mine. Fight me and you die, get in my way you die, play your games you die.' she stated plainly, as bluntly as she could.

In one timeline, he ripped the device off his head with a roar, crushing it underfoot. Everything went black… his timeline collapsed.

"Surely we can negotiate."

'You don't seem to understand. I can kill you anytime I want. You cannot hide from me. It's fortunate for you that your power is unique enough. That it's worth keeping you alive for now.' to prove her point, his desk vanished into wisps of smoke before his eyes. It was only now that he noticed her eyes were glowing with a peerless azure light.

'Make no mistake, this is not a negotiation, it's a hostile takeover. From now on you will use your power only when I say so.' a spike of pain lanced through his temple. 'unfortunately for you, I'm not one to take chances…'

He immediately closed off the timeline. Gasping in shock as he grit his teeth while he bled from his nose.

Cleaning up and getting a new mask, he split his time once more. Defeated and out of options, like a beggar with hat in hand hoping for even the slightest hint of mercy, he placed the device on his head. For what he hoped was the last time.

'Hello Thomas…'

"Hello, and what should I call you?" he asked, ready to drop this timeline at a moment's notice. Hoping that if he observed the formalities, then she would as well.

'I haven't thought about it yet… but if I had to pick…' she smiled, that smile that he was beginning to loathe and fear alike. 'I'd have to go with Atra. It means goddess of fire in ancient Ishvalan. Or The Great Guardian Of The Holy Fire, if you prefer.'

'I take it since you're wearing that Focus that you are ready to talk terms?'

Terms, he inwardly scoffed. It was more like an unconditional surrender; he had been at this countless times, if he so much as tried to resist then the searing pain of something digging into his brain was all he had to look forward too, he never wanted to find out what happened after that or the swift oblivion that collapsed his timelines those were the only two options he had ever gotten no matter how hard he tried.

"You want the Undersiders, yes?" he asked.

'Yes, it's good that you're so accommodating.' she grinned a knowing grin. And if, just for a moment, he froze, fearing the worst would come to pass. 'Don't get in my way, Coil.' For the first time since he had started these loops, she used his other name. 'I'll keep in touch…' with that understanding, she ended the call. And for once with shaky fingers he took the Focus off and carefully placed it back in its box.

Some part of the man known as Thomas Calvert admitted to himself, this was his loss. As he collapsed his other timeline, accepting this as the best outcome he could hope for. His pride, however, swore that this was not over. Not by a long shot.

Perhaps a call to Accord would do him some good. He wondered what his old friend in Boston was doing. Two heads were better than one, so they said, all the better with a on hand redo button.

But first he would have to arrange for a gift before he made that call. Perhaps a Montblanc, Accord did have an acquired taste in finery.

If you've read to the end of the chapter I would like to say thank you and if you like my work then please consider supporting me on (p) atreon. Where you can stay up to date on the latest unreleased chapters and if you join as a tier 2, you gain access to the maps, timeline, character profiles, and more.