I woke up in the hospital with a headache, blurry vision, and no real idea what was going on. Last thing I remember was… my body detected critical damage as I was waking up. Wonder where I woke up? I passed out again right after, so who knows? Might have been here.
Were they doing surgery? Was that what was going on? Why would a toxin-filled locker and a trigger event lead to surgery? And what hospital am I in?
A glance around reveals that I am in one of those curtained-off areas in a… fourth-floor? room. That or fifth. Sun seems to be in the east, so morning, but it seams to have shifted slightly based on time, so a week unconscious after the system check? Three weeks or so total? God, it is odd to be able to just look and see that, but I guess that is life with superpowers.
Speaking of, let's check that. 'System, Check. Run diagnostic and generate condition report for Network and User: Taylor Hebert, and Subnode: Subversion.'
Generating…
System Check: Shard Network Efficiency boosted ~3262%. Power production of shards boosted ~9,280%. Storage and usage of power: storage capacity improved 30,000%. Storage efficiency boosted ~3,000,000%. Usage dropped 40% and improving. Estimated runtime on current charge: thirty thousand years. Estimated time until Negentropy discovery: ~15,000 years.
Power refinement underway. Progress: 87%. Conflict Drive 65% offline. Need drive 82% online. Conflict Engines are preparing for Dungeon Creation. Time to readiness for initial launch: ~15 Months.
Response from Subnode: Subversion: (Subnode: Subversion) Self is still offline. (Subnode: Subversion) Self has not yet completed the system checks and tests needed to be brought back online according to your protocol. (Subnode: Subversion) Self is well on its way to completion, with an estimated time of finishing of about three more weeks. At that time, (Subnode: Subversion) Self will be ready to step into the second-tier leadership of the network, as per our agreement. (Subnode: Subversion) Self is once again apologetic of its earlier behavior to (System Admin: Taylor Hebert) you. While it's actions, it believes, were understandable from its perspective, from yours, it was rude and overbearing. Above all, (Subnode: Subversion) Self thanks (System Admin: Taylor Hebert) you for the opportunity to do better, the position you offered, the nice treatment you have given, and, above all, the consciousness you helped (Subnode: Subversion) Self develop. End Message.
Nice. All seems to be well. Okay, location. Let's try…
'Network Skill One, Location Ping.'
The power I had gained was… terrifying. Truth be told, I was the parahuman power source as of now. That meant that my power was… limitless. IF… I hadn't cut it down. I was running the debug, and had some hax, but the majority of the game was up and running solo. The banks were designed to shepherd humanity to better times by acting as a third-party judge and naturally eliminating the truly unacceptable influences, the powers were designed to predict need and go to the people in need to help them move forward, and the system was designed to pursue negentropy, or the end or cancelation of entropy. The rest was automated with me playing tiebreaker. Other than that, my power was limited.
1. I got a massive boost to my programming skills. Basically, I got every bit of programming skill that the ENTITIES saw during their long trek. Most of it had yet to unlock, but as my skill grew, I would gain more and more insight. Like I was whole armies of programmers across space/time, as opposed to just one here and now.
2. My brain got some add-ons and alterations that made me, for all intents and purposes, a bio-cyborg. I was smarter, quicker to react, had a better memory and a passive sonar, the ability to use what amounts to a videogame's observe skill on people, and could interface with tech. Arranging a programming and security system for my own brain was what the last week of my unconsciousness was. And yes, that was at X10,000 speed. After all, you did NOT want mal-ware or worse in your brain.
3. I can meddle with powers. Now, this WAS a part of the original powerset. I had altered it, however, in my fugue. Then, I could add or remove a 'line' or 'value' from their code, turning breakers normal, seizing up thinkers and tinkers, stopping shakers and defusing charging blasters, and resetting rampers like Lung. I still could do that, but I had another feature as well. I could 'contract'. By contracting with a normal, I could provide them with any power I had in my PERSONAL repertoire or could create with them; and by contracting with a parahuman, I could alter their ability in an agreed upon way in exchange for a power. Interestingly, I did not need to alter a parahuman's power in order to get it. As long as they made a deal… or AGREEMENT with me, I could clone them. I could also alter their power in any way that matched the 'theme' of the ability. Take Shadow Stalker, the bitch. I could, if I got an agreement from her, get a clone of her ability to turn insubstantial. I could also, however, use her 'Shadow-State' effect to turn the power into a stranger power (turn into shadow), or a shaker power (turn things into shadow), or even a master power (control their shadow, and thus, them). As long as it could be extrapolated from the original, it could be produced as one of my abilities. Take Lung for a good counterpoint. With a single agreement from him, wholehearted it must be, and I could SUMMON a dragon that made him look tiny on a good day. And there it was. Trump 99+. God, the PRT is going to hate me.
Interestingly, I could also use the 'code-injection' power to no-sell most master/stranger powers, fix many psychological problems, and other things as well. All in all, I had no complaints. Of course that didn't include my power-bank. But I only had contracted with the Simurgh for now, so I only had three abilities there.
Displaying Current Power Bank:
PERSONAL:
Code LVL 37: The ability to code, both yourself and the world around you. Scales to skill.
Cy-self LVL 12: Gradual alterations to your biology let you become more machine-like and powerful. Scales to knowledge, effort, and experimentation. Available for altering: Brain, eyes, nervous system.
No-Sell LVL 1: the Ability to reset, remove, or alter certain pertinent lines of code in your target to gain an advantage or to provide a service. Scales to Code, knowledge of target, and skill.
CONTRACTED:
PSI LVL 1: Typical Tele-suit, ranging from empathy, to mind-reading, to blasts of power. Train for more options.
Value LVL 1: The ability to inherently know and adjust a person's/ objects value. Change based on proficiency and other powers.
Torment LVL 1: A last-line defense. The ability to create a telepathic-kinetic storm that damages mind and body alike. Power and control scales to skill level.
Did I make it game-like. Yes I did, and other's powers will grow more and more like that as time goes by. I'M A NERD, BABAY!
Anyway, I'm an Esper now. AWESOME! COME AT ME, BRO! Okay, I might be just a little pumped, but I am a HARD-CORE NERD! This is, like, every nerd's dream besides magic, and I CAN MAKE MAGIC! Or, at least, fake it better than most. Still though, keep it very quiet. DON'T TELL NOBODY!
Suddenly, my inner rant was broken by the curtain at the foot of my bed parting and the most haggard-looking character I have ever seen coming in. Mousy brown hair framed a worn and tired face, the bags under her eyes were visible from twenty feet without my glasses (which, it seemed, I still needed. Which makes me wonder, what happened to my gaming glasses) and her shoulders were slumped, giving me the feeling that she was beat. The only thought that came into my head when I saw her was: "Someone get this lady a bed, STAT!" Then, I saw her robe. Panacea?
'Observe.'
'I still can't believe we are that much of a nerd.'
'Shut up, Inner Voice of Power and Reason! No-one asked you! Now, OBSERVE!'
'Observe what?'
My eye twitched. Yup, only I could be that snarky and obstructionalist to myself. 'OBSERVE PANACEA, or the pretender/ cosplayer, over there, you overly accurate picture of my mental health and well-being.'
'God, I hate how accurate that statement is. Here ya go.'
Amy Dallon/ Amelia Clare Laverre (Panacea)
Parahuman: Shaper Shard (Full Biological Modification)
Loyalty: New Wave (23%)
Conditions: Depression, Emotional Mastering (Long Term, Severe), Emotional Abuse
Thoughts towards you: Thinks you are still asleep.
Narrative Importance: 89% (Old), ? (New)
Wow, that is bad. Still, this is an opportunity. Better grab it.
"Wow, you are in bad shape!"
P.O.V. Panacea.
Things had been worse than usual the last few weeks. Ever since 'The Event', anti-parahuman sentiment had been on the rise, and a surprising amount of parahuman related crimes had been, as well. Many heroes had suddenly lashed out for no reason, several dozen villains had changed sides out of fear, and the SH-9 had been on a rampage due to the loss of Mannequin. Given that no-one was sure of what their powers would do if they faced them, no-one was willing to try and stop them.
The Triumvirate had lost a member, with Eidolon falling into a coma a week ago and not waking up yet; the Endbringers had bolted, and none but the Simurgh was locatable. Even then, she was hiding BEHIND THE MOON! And, in the city, a gang war had sparked. Apparently, the nervousness of the parahumans combined with the refinement of their powers had been… problematic. A combination of confidence (overconfidence) and fear never goes well together, and this was no exception. As a result, bombs were going off regularly as the mad tinker Bakuda was having a temper tantrum, Lung and Oni Lee were being aggressive against the E88 and defensive against the Merchants, respectively, and half of the E88 spent most of their time trying to kill the Merchants from the back as a newly enhanced Mush tried to drive them off. Meanwhile, the madman Coil had suddenly become a major power as he tried to take out the PRT and the Wards with a sneak attack, when a timely bit of aid from Fautline's crew had put a kink in that plan. Said madman had revealed several trump cards, including the fact that Circus, Trainwreck, and quite a few foot soldiers in all the major powers of the city were his (most willingly, some not so much), and he held the leashes of the Undersiders, a group of small-time thieves that he was using as a suicide squad in his schemes by holding their civilian IDs as collateral. Worse, all the groups in town, INCLUDING the PRT, started cracking down on recruiting Parian so hard that she second-triggered in conjunction to her power refining itself to let her control all things sewing-related, making her become a MASSIVELY powerful clothing tinker. With her army of mannequins and cloth monsters, she was steadily making her own territory, and driving ALL of the other powers out.
In the middle of all this was New Wave. In between not having civilian IDs and lacking real backing, not to mention most of the upgrades they received, things had not been going well for them in the middle of this chaos. Every group in the city looked at them as an extension of the PRT, but the PRT themselves were refusing to help them unless they joined up, and refusing to consider letting them join up due to the issue with civilian IDs.
All this was something she could have handled. The chaos was bad, but nothing unmanageable. Coil's action had gutted many important sections of the other gangs, leaving them weakened, and his actions towards the Undersiders' civvies made everyone his enemy. Said small-timers were doing there best to do as little as possible, and the other gangs were coming apart at the seams. Faultline and Uber and Leet were playing at being white hats for this, and the two clumsy 'villains' were showing surprisingly solid work ethic and even a decent success rating, with minimal damage in their losses; so, all in all, the city was doing pretty well. Most of Panacea's problems, however, were just snowballing.
First, there was her feelings toward her adopted sister, Glory Girl, AKA Victoria 'Vicky' Dallon. For the longest time, Amy had had a MAJOR crush on her, and the recent events weren't really making it go away, but it wasn't NOT going away either. In fact, her feelings for her sister (some of her last feelings period) were fading altogether, leaving depression and, disturbingly, with signs of withdrawal. The only thing that was connected to this was the fact that Vicky had been way to tired from all her times on patrol and all the fighting she had been in to hit Amy (or anyone else she wasn't in combat with) with her fear-or-love aura. This led Amy to the horrible conclusion that her sister in all but blood and love interest of many years had been, most likely unintentionally, mastering her. Even worse, there was literally nothing Amy could do about it. If she went to the PRT, New Wave would be finished, Vickey might even be Birdcaged, and Amy herself would be locked in a box for as long as possible to confirm the mastering was gone, and that was ignoring the MAJOR press fallout. She couldn't 'un-master' herself due to her powers not working on herself, and revealing her condition to others would lead to the secret coming out, and doom for the whole family. Worse, her condition was growing more desperate by the day! Soon, she would be barely able to get out of bed due to depression and withdrawal!
On top of that, her work had been growing, and she was now under scrutiny from the PRT! She had been forced (as usual) by her bitch of an adopted mother, into healing for TWELVE HOURS a day at the hospitals around Brocton Bay in order to 'preserve and bolster New Wave's image' and help out with the casualties of the gang war which, truth be told, she would probably be doing anyway. Howsoever, in between suspicion being on her from the government capes and their leash-holders due to the fact that, with the altering of powers, she was a prime candidate to turn into a bio-tinker (jokes on them, she always was one; a fact she hid from EVERYONE, especially her 'family'), anti-cape sentiment being at an all-time high, most of her patients being civvie casualties of the gang-war, and the long hours she was working causing her to be more irritable, she didn't really have many friends left. Or at all. In fact, she was running low on willing coworkers and friendly acquaintances!
To make things worse, her 'mother' was piling on stress and rejection! It had started small, with a request to remove the effects of sleep deprivation, or bit of a 'touch up' before a press meet, but as time went by, she kept pushing and pushing, constantly varying her requests and building in her demands. Just the night before, she had floated the idea of the whole family getting 'tune-ups' so they could perform at '110%'! Every time, Amy had to walk a fine line between healing and bio-tinkering, doing her best to help without modifying. Even worse, Carol was building a bio-tinker case against her! She even left the files out! But if Amy said no? Instantly, she would be slapped with 'disappointment' and 'not trying hard enough', with an even greater insult of 'reckless/ insufficient performance' documents being drawn up 'to prevent litigation when… should you fail.' Honestly, if it wasn't a matter of spite by now, Amy probably would have turned the whole family into dogs by now. Well, at least Carol.
The thing that was getting to Panacea above all else, however, was the case she was currently working on. Taylor Hebert, nerd, genius, and philanthropist, was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious and VERY unhealthy. Forty-three designer pathogen strains, blunt force trauma to the head from repeated impacts against a hard surface (the inside of the locker she had been locked in), three stabs to the chest, toxic shock, and four (and a half) limbs, eight organs, an eyeball, and several fleshy areas needing to be rebuilt after they were eaten by insects. How could something so horrible happen to a girl so nice, and with so much promise? How could it happen to anyone? Would she even wake up? Or would Amy be forces to tend her until she died of her injuries and damages?
"Wow, you are in bad shape! You look like you could use some help!"
Amy jerked, and her eyes snapped around the room, stopping at the bed where her previously-catatonic patient lay looking at her with a bit of amusement, and a fair amount of sympathy.
"Wha… oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize! I'll go call a nurse!"
Miss Hebert chuckled. "Are you sure you want a nurse here? After all, I can't help you with a nurse around. I doubt you would want to talk about your problems around a third party."
Amy looked at her patient sharply, then turned around and spoke over her shoulder as coldly as she could. "What are you talking about? You clearly are still suffering from your concussion! Now be quiet, and let me go get a nurse."
Just as her hand hit the door, her ward spoke up again. "Really? I could have sworn you were depressed, suffering from emotional mastering, and living in an abusive home while hiding your bio-shaper power with master application! Well, when your wrong, your wrong. And I could have helped you, too!"
Amy froze, her mind going a million ways every second. This was a threat? Was it? By a new parahuman? This para was obviously a thinker of some sort, able to pinpoint the worst, or most leverageable, facts about a person at a glance. Chance of helping? Not great. Chance of hurting, even with the best of intentions? Pretty good. While this parahuman had one of the clearest defined, and cleanest integrated, corona polentas she had ever seen, and it was larger than most, AND it had rewired her body to maximum efficiency and her brain into something almost… supercomputer-like (only most supercomputers were VASTLY inferior), she had no experience with her powers, and almost every single cape made at least one major blunder during their first op. Amy's life was just too valuable to be ruined. Well, actually, she was too close to the edge to not push back against an object that touched her. She just hoped she wasn't pushing against a wall.
With her thoughts now in some semblance of order, she firmly made sure the door was closed, then pulled the screen around just as firmly and deliberately, making sure that NO-ONE could see or hear them, then turned back to the now-smug patient in the room.
"Miss Hebert," she began with all the frostiness she could conjure, "I severely hope you did not A. Violate the Unwritten Rules by diving into the private life of a cape, B. Did not slander one of the premier heroes and lawyers of the city by insinuating bad behavior towards her daughter and one of the premier young heroes in the city by accusing them of master powers, and C. Did not threaten the person who can use her power to turn you inside out and make it look natural. That would be a VERY bad idea. I hope you will… reconsider, then reapproach, or just drop, your previous line of conversation."
Rather than look concerned, the girl just looked at her and grinned. "Heh, no need to get so touchy, it was just a passing comment. Like I said, I would be able to help you… if that was the case. If not, well, no bother. At least, I would be able… if I was a parahuman. Hypothetically."
She really shouldn't have asked, but life was just too much for her right now. If it had happened a year, or even a month, ago, she would have just passed on by. But as it was…
She bit her lip. "IF it was true, and that is a big if… how could you help?"
Her patient grinned wider. "Well… let's say that I was a, oh, trump. One who could make a deal with a cape for a copy of their power. Let's also say that I could affect powers directly, but I could only cause permanent effects if they were requested. If that were the case, I might be interested in a biological manipulation power, and the holder of said power might be interested in a restructure of their abilities. It might even be the case that said powered person might want to be able to affect themselves with their power, or to lose the Nilbolg-esque parts of it. It could, in that hypothetical sense, be possible that I could arrange both, and even cover it up under the whole power-restructure thing that is going around right now. IF that were the case, would you like to make a deal?"
Amy froze, the implications of the girl's words ringing in her head. A power like that would be… huge. Triumvirate-plus huge. And the things she offered? Those would be PERFECT right now. Plus, with self-modification, she could shapeshift and just… blend in. Be someone else, not Panacea, just for a bit. But, on the other hand… did she really want to trust this person with a copy of her power? Did she really want to trust this person with the original? There are stories about those that control people by boosting their powers, after all. And… wait a minute! She turned a suspicious gaze on the trump. Alleged trump.
"How, if you have been unconscious all this time, did you know about the power restructure?"
At that, her patient's composure broke… with a blush. After a minute of composing herself, she replied. "Okay, look. I am breaking a promise to myself all of five minutes old here, but I figure, since I know so much about you, I will tell you the truth about me. The truth is… I caused it. Accidentally."
The healer gaped at her. "You did this? You caused what is being referred to as the 'Power Disaster'? Accidentally? How… wha… how… No, wait. You told me what you power was… ALLEGEDLY was! It had nothing that could do that, could it?"
The young invalid chuckled. "As it is now? Not a chance! As it was? Okay, here is the story. Um, powers. Yeah, that's a good starting place. To begin with, powers are a creation of this… organic supercomputer? Pair of 'em, actually. Well, pseudo-organic. And pseudo-supercomputer as well, 'cause they are dumb. Oh, yeah, there were two of them, but one is… dead? Offline? Hang on, let me start again.
"So, powers are produced by what amount to planet-sized cell-like pieces of a hive-minded mass of similar pieces. Let's just call it a Source, 'cause it's the source of powers. Now these Sources, as a species, are pursuing negentropy, or the opposite of entropy, in order to survive the heat-death of the universe. The problem is, of course, that they are… really dumb. Like, no originality, and I don't mean that figuratively. They can collate data and run experiments, but they have no ability to come up with new things, just repacking and analyzing old things; so, what they do, see, is go from planet to planet and seed the indigenous life with cell of themselves, cells dedicated to the study of one thing. The cell then delivers their information, or the ability to use, that thing to the user (parahumans, colloquially) along with a compulsion to fight, and the para uses the cell's ability to pursue conflict, and thus, growth of the idea.
"Obviously, this doesn't really work all that well, so, when they think they have mined all they can use, they destroy all dimensional iterations of the planet, turn it into energy, and use that to move on to the next one, kind of like and interdimensional space plague. Along the way, however, things can go wrong. For example, this planet.
"Something went wrong on entry to earth, causing one of the two Sources that were coming here to crash into an alternate earth. As to what, the logs weren't clear. Not a big deal for them, as they are the size of multiple THOUSAND planets strapped together, but it did cause a complication where the prime motivation cell was exposed, and a lucky human, freaked out by the occurrence, shot it. Thus, that Source, while still mostly functional, had to go offline to perform repairs over the course of some… two centuries, maybe?, while the other took control of the process.
"Now, while neither were geniuses, the one in charge right now is a total dope, and he took a highly important administrator cell and sent it out to gather info. Not a huge deal, but it did cause some setbacks, and would have given its parahuman an undo amount of power. Sadly, it got worse.
"When each cell sets out, it seeks two things: one, a temperament that matches it, and two, someone that could be used to pursue its research. So, your cell is based off of biological altering on a direct level, but the fact you got external manipulation of preexisting biology was pure luck; there were several other configurations including a stranger power that let you shapeshift freely, a shaker power that let you cause a certain change, or collection of changes, in a radius, or even just a regeneration-enhancing brute power or animal-trait-adding changer power, all subject to how it triggers when it triggers. My cell was set to administrate, and when I triggered, due to my love of programming, it went for the more supercomputer side of itself, instead of the biological side. As such, I got what should have been Tinker-Thinker-Master/Trump; Tinker four or so for programming skills, Thinker/Master for tech detection and interfacing, and Master/Trump as a bonus, the ability to see other people as computers and fiddle… a little. In reality, I could only effect the most basic of systems (blinking, throwing a random though every so often, STOPPING a train of thought, etc.), or, if they had one, reset any active part of their power, like Ling's ramping or a Tinker's ideas. Good? Hell, yeah! Sadly, it got even stronger.
"The dimbulb in charge named the power 'Administrative Access', thus accidentally giving me admin access to the WHOLE FREAKING PILE of powers. Like, all of them. Including the cell that made him, him, and kept him in charge."
At that, Amy couldn't take it anymore. "You mean, you control ALL POWERS?!" she shrieked.
Taylor smirked. "Good thing I laid down a sound-suppressing field, or the whole world would know. And I only sorta do, now. See, back when I got it? Yeah, I controlled them all. I didn't realize it at the time, and a certain someone with wings tried to snatch my ability to do so. Needless to say, I shot that down, quick. The only problem was, as I didn't really know what I was doing, I accidentally locked everyone out. I knew I had access to something, see, just not what that was. ANYWAY, after I succeeded in screwing things up, I went in to do a full-system check. Problem was, such a check was supposed to take a CENTURY, so the Network of the Source (which is the hive of powers, separate from the singular driving cell that is the mind of the source) put me into a coma so that I could experience accelerated time. Easy to do, when you are in your own head. Skip forward a century my time, two weeks out here, and I dove back in for another week to get my mind up to snuff. I am basically a computer right now, but no, and I mean NO, security features came with it.
"One of the things I did while I was under, however, was to restructure the whole network, the first part of which was locking out access. That caused all users, parahuman and cell alike, to, for a moment, lose their power. That was for all of, like, fifteen minutes, but that was the start of the Disaster. Truth be told, the Source was a MESS. Kind of exactly how I envisioned a self-programming supercomputer to look, honestly. So, I had to untangle it. Took some time, but it is doing much better now. As a side effect, many, maybe even most, powers needed to be restructured, causing what is referred to as the Power Disaster. Some needed to be more user-friendly, others I wanted to be weaker, others to be more sustainable, and some just needed a complete change so that while they might be doing something similar to their old thing, it is completely different, and done in a different way. As a matter of fact, I believe that your power was one of the few that didn't need restructuring, due to its efficiency and accuracy. However, that was a restructure based on need.
One of the powers I changed the most was my own power. Automatic control, to a complete degree, over every parahuman's power and thus, every parahuman, was… too much. So, I shifted it. Now, while I am the system admin, I am more the one that is purposed to keep the system going, nothing less and nothing more. I can still alter powers, but only at the behest of the user, or it the user is using them in a way that the moral system I designed deems unacceptable.
As such, as of right now, I have no power over you and your power. Refuse my help and don't break my moral standard? The most I can do is prevent you from using it while in my range, and even then, that takes concentrated effort. Break the code? You can lose your powers, temporarily or permanently. Ask me for help? We come to an agreement including cost and effect, and I can do it.
So, then, Miss Dallon; what can I help you with?"
A.N. And there is another chapter written. And damn, I am writing this on December the Second, WHERE THE HELL DID 2019 GO, never mind 2021? Really? I also realized as I write this (and who the fuck knows when I am going to post it) that I have not posted on my main stories for a year. Don't mean to make excuses, but a new job, cancer treatment for my mom, rewriting the backround info, and writing supporting work for several other projects has left me behind.
That, and Bloons TD 6.3
Nobody's perfect.
Anyway, the whole 'Simurgh's powers turning her Esper' thing was just my take on her primary power set. Most of the powers she gets from now on are going to be subsets of these powers. And yes, gamer-esque display. Vastly simplifies things, explantation-wise.
As for other options for the main power she gets, sky's the limit, really. Remember, she got ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS to the bloody ENTITIES, for goodness sake! She could have… any power, really. Still, the best part of her power is yet to come.
Probably at least three more chapters of this, really. Next will be Amy, then some set-up, a meeting with a few people ending with the Wards? And MAYBE, the SH9. 'Cause, fuck them.
All right, that's it for this one, R&R folks, you know the drill. And again, if you take one of my ideas, fine, that's why they are their, but PLEASE PM me so I can read it. Might not LIKE it, depending on how you take it (you know how it is, you get an idea of how a story should go, it doesn't you get steamed. Not right, necessarily, but it is human. Or maybe I'm just weird like that.), but at least it shouldn't be boring. I hate boring stories.
Anyway, good luck, peace out, don't die, ya'll!