This chapter beta-read by Undead Robot, Abhorsen, and broughtfromxp.

Ascent 2.1

Six days later…

Skill Trained: Tech/Medical 1

"So, you're saying you could probably make more of these super-first-aid kits, now that we've gone over this stuff for, what, five days?"

I shrugged. "I'm saying that I should be more likely to succeed at reproducing it, but as with everything, it's still up to chance."

"That's really weird, but hey, better that than nothing. So, we'll go get some medical shit later, I guess?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I'll be giving it a shot later, obviously, but the kit's lower priority. I'd rather retry the Lazarus Patch first, though, considering the bombing campaign, and that there's gonna be an Endbringer fight, somewhere, sometime, in the next few weeks or months."

He sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. But, I'm telling you, that medkit has some pretty awesome stuff. Sucks that you don't remember how you made half of those drugs."

"Yeah," I said with what I hoped sounded like a convincing amount of dismay. I'd been hinting that my gear had been made sometime following my trigger, during a period of delirium. It had been enough to keep him from prying too much, even if it weighed heavily on me to use that kind of trauma as a cover. "So, what time are we picking Richard up from the hospital?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I'll know when you do, although I'm not sure you should come, dude. He's been pretty pissed off, might take a swing at you again."

I shrugged, closing the medical textbook on the table as I replied, "Better to get it out of the way, right? Besides, if he's gonna punch my face in, might as well be at the hospital when it happens."

He was hesitant. "I'm not sure about this, but it's your face on the line, and I'm not gonna back you up if you guys start fighting."

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"Well, I'm gonna go try a few projects while we wait for the call. You want to come help me?"

"Nah, I gotta study some more, maybe try reverse engineering some stuff too. Let me know how that caloric capacitance project goes, though."

"Will do." He stood up and walked across the shop.

I cracked my neck, stretched a bit, and fired up the computer, opening up the usual windows. Messy, stilted notes, dense research papers, and even a few conspiracy websites; everything I needed to dive into the brain of an insane, fictional genius.

I'd started a routine of sorts. Every day, I devoted at least an hour of thinking to the problem of Metaphysics, trying to figure out where Tiberius Crohn could have stumbled across such a fundamental flaw in normal physics. The problem was, I wasn't exactly sure it existed.

I knew that real me (if he existed) had a drive to have things make sense. He would default to writing things a certain way, and as far as I was aware, that way would be to integrate plot points and mechanics from the crossover; make a cohesive alternate universe, with a series of minor rationalizations for why it hadn't changed anything. Unfortunately, I also knew that having my powers be an out-of-context problem would be a tempting idea, one that would simplify writing by removing Scion and Contessa from the picture in the short term, at the cost of possibly denying me the technology I needed for my plan. Beyond that, there was the idea that I might be delusional, that I was a parahuman after all; or that this was all a dream, or simulation, or any number of other explanations. On top of all of that, I had to accept the fact that the difficulty of this task might currently be impossible for me to accomplish, like rolling a 20 on 2d6 without extra help, or that I would get a string of bad rolls for months or years.

It didn't bear thinking about how screwed I would be if any of those scenarios was my reality. Even as it stood, the task was daunting.

There were a few places where physics started failing to cover things. Edge cases were obvious; black, white, and worm- holes, strange quarks, quantum teleportation, neutron stars, the Higgs-Boson; all things that pushed the limits of the physical universe in some way. I could confirm theories of parallel universes, as well as working off of higher spatial dimensional theory and the related field of string theory, but that still only vaguely resembled the descriptions of the energies involved in a Spike Drive jump. It was like tapping into the Warp of WH40K, but from a hard-sci-fi universe and with no help from the other side.

Still, if I didn't get it soon, I'd be forced to escalate the hard way, by leveling over time. I couldn't afford that, so I had to try, even if it might be impossible.

I started off by taking the scanner Zach built me, a tricorder-inspired handheld device, and activated my basic telekinesis. I started scanning, studying the energy signatures on the readout as I rotated a few ball bearings in midair. I kept studying while I got more results from the machine, typing out details and spitballing theories to test out scientifically. Once the five-minute limit expired, giving off a wealth of information as the mysterious forces disappeared, I started dissecting the scan in depth.

-1 PP, 5/6 remaining

Science Check(Int): Rolled 10+2 vs. difficulty 13. Fail.

After an hour of exhaustive but fruitful work, I hit a wall. Sighing, I gave up on the telekinesis study and began working out the math behind teleportation, having recorded some of that two days ago. Another failed attempt, trying to get a glimpse of higher universes on the scanner while I superluminally popped across the room, but perhaps a deeper study might yield results.

Science Check(Int): Rolled 5+2 vs. difficulty 13. Fail.

The math was horrible; it had been years since I last did anything even remotely close to this level of physics, and my Science skill obviously wasn't giving out any assistance today. I ended up fighting to keep my attention on it for another hour before I heard Zach's phone ring. Sighing, I pushed aside the paper and got up, stretching.

"That was Richard," Zach said, hanging up. "They're done removing his stitches, he's getting out in an hour and a half after some followup. How's the study going?"

I made a noise of disgust. "No luck. Even though I can glimpse something more, I can't grasp it yet. How was your tinkering?"

He shrugged. "Well, I seem to have successfully made a megawatt-rated power source that runs on honey buns, so that's a thing."

"Powers are weird like that," I commented.

"Yeah."

"Does it run on any other kinds of food?"

He shook his head. "Sort of? I took your advice and kept it specialized to one thing, but there's nothing special about one kind of glazed, mass-produced pastry versus another, so you could probably run it on bear claws or donuts, I guess?" He frowned seriously, started rubbing his chin. "I'm not sure how it would interact with fruit fillings, but it wouldn't be good. Chocolate icing or powdered sugar might be okay. We'll have to do a cost analysis on buying pastries direct from manufacturers and what pastries are cheapest… hmm." He seemed to come back to himself, probably from noticing how I was snickering.

"What?"

I shook my head. I had the mental picture of Leet, certified least intimidating cape in the Bay, frantically shoving a donut into a funnel after his laser refused to fire. "Nothing," I said, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "You wanna go get lunch? Maybe we can greet him with a nice meal, or something?"

"I got a bit more work to do before we can go, actually. You want to come help?"

I shrugged. "Sounds good."

-Respawning NPCs-

The trip to the hospital was complicated. Bakuda's bombing campaign had gone on for a bit over a week now, and a not-insignificant number of streets had to be blocked off and detoured around. Even now, there were still multiple 'detonations' in the news every morning and afternoon, with grisly descriptions of all manner of effects. The media was having a field day with it, and it was showing in the populace.

Zach cursed as a yellow Jeep cut in front of him, pulling out of a Burger King parking lot like a bat out of hell, almost getting hit by oncoming traffic in the process. I tried to calm him down a bit, taking his hand off the horn. "Chill out." The woman had probably been trapped in that lot for a minute or two, took a chance when she saw one. "Everyone's on edge, don't make it worse."

He grumbled about it, but didn't press the issue. I went back to my daily meditation. I was starting to feel the reinforcement, and not in a good way; after a week, it felt like my nerves were burning while I did it, and left a minor ache behind. I was really trying not to think about the implications of that, but I had to continue. Moreover, it was becoming an increasingly difficult task- the closest metaphor was that every time I poured the energy over the channel, it dripped off like syrup or epoxy, and a little stuck to the rough patches of the coating. Then it hardened, made the rough areas smoother, and that in turn made it harder for anything to stick next time. Or something. It was weird.

A pothole momentarily broke my concentration as we pulled into the hospital parking lot, and I was quietly relieved that my energy being a material was a fiction my mental training made to deal with raw extradimensional power. I finished up as Zach found a spot, and sighed a little as the burning faded. Just 7 more days till infinite minor powers.

I was not looking forward to what the last day might feel like.

"Okay, look," Zach said after he turned off the car. "Richard- I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but I'm pretty sure he hates you. You threw off our dynamic, and then you put him in the hospital. Just stay back, and let me do the talking."

"I'll try." I had my fair share of experience with people like Richard. Family, mostly. You had to hold your tongue, but you also had to stand your ground. Giving anything up meant they pushed the line back with you. "Can't promise, but I'll try."

He stared at me a moment, and I put my hands up defensively, saying, "Not gonna start anything. I just want to get along, here."

"Fine, whatever. Like I said, he punches you, you deserve it." With that, he got out of the car.

"Great," I grumbled to myself, closing my door. I put on a pleasant expression, and caught up to Zach. I wanted to say something, cut the tension, but I couldn't find the right words. Instead, we walked toward the entrance in silence.

The hospital was busy, although far less so than last week. Hospital staff and volunteers moved with purpose through the halls, and there were multiple signs referring people to remain calm and be patient due to high patient numbers. It wasn't a disaster relief zone or anything, but there was an air of stress and weariness that just pervaded everything.

"I filled him in on what you said happened, by the way," Zach said after we lucked upon an empty elevator. "He… reluctantly confirmed most of it. Otherwise, I probably would have thrown you out a few days ago, heh," he said with an awkward laugh. "I'm leaving it up to you to explain your powers. They're weird shit, and it's probably better that you explain them, after you apologize."

Good to know. "Apology is first priority, yeah, I got it," I said tiredly. "And I'll wait for you to tell me when. And I'll keep my mouth shut otherwise. Et cetera."

"Good." The door opened, and we made way for an empty stretcher and a nurse. The ride was quiet after that.

Richard was sitting up when we got to the room, holding his cell phone. "I was just about to call you," he said, brow furrowing in anger as he saw me enter behind Zach. I kept my face blank.

"Rich, give it a rest. Let's get you out of here so they can have the bed back."

"Close the door, Zach. I'm gonna say my piece first."

Zach sighed, and I moved out of the way so he could get the door. My eyes were studying Richard up and down, impassively noting the bandages that still wrapped his torso, visible through his shirt, the recently removed IV marks, the fact that he'd lost weight, before meeting his eyes again.

"You have some balls coming here, Grant. More, to think I'll just let you stay without calling you out on your shit."

I nodded, grim. Now that I was actually facing him, I wasn't so sure opening my mouth was a good idea anyway. Part of me was screaming to demand an apology in turn.

"You almost fucking killed me, you know that? You lied to us both, you took advantage of us, and we have no idea who you are." He turned to Zach, pointing at me. "I'm not sure who the hell this guy thinks he is, but he sure as hell isn't someone I trust to be my teammate! I know you do, but I'm not sure why the fuck we should!"

Zach's expression was one of cold disappointment. He started counting off on his fingers: "Because he hasn't threatened to murder anyone in cold blood, or really done anything hostile beyond defending himself. Because he's gone with everything I've told him to do, and actually held up on his promise to help me. Because if you'd take your head out your ass a minute and think, the only things he's done wrong, he did because he thought he couldn't trust us. And because he decided, after the shit you pulled, to try to set things straight. All of which I've told you, several times." He gestured at me, frustrated, and I started doing my part.

"Look, Richard, I'm not gonna lie and say I didn't fuck up. I've been regretting the way things went on the 18th, on a lot of fronts. I was feeling shitty about the lies, and probably would have tried to do something to fix it in a week or so anyway. No excuse, though. Once we're out of here, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, and I get it if you still hate me, but I'd like to at least be your teammate, if not your friend."

Persuade Check(Cha): Rolled 6+1 vs. difficulty 7. Pass.

"Fuck you," he spat. My heart sank a bit at the failed check, then he turned to get off the bed with a groan, and continued. "I'll accept you on the team, but only because Zach wants it, you gut-checking son of a whore. Zach, come help me up, we've gotta get going." Zach moved to help him into the wheelchair, and after he settled into it, he grunted out. "I got a call a few minutes before you came. We've got a meeting to attend."

"When?"

"Tonight."

-Rolling D20s for no reason-

Tech/Medical Check(Int): Rolled 12+3 vs. difficulty 8. Critical Success!

"Here," I said, passing Richard a small thimbleful of green liquid. "This'll make you feel better for a few hours. Not a good idea to take it too often, with the side effects, but a dose or two shouldn't hurt."

Richard was in shitty shape, to be sure, but the wonders of future first aid kits just so happened to include what I had determined was a non-inhibitive painkiller, fever reducer, and, oddly enough, wart remover, that was several times more effective than morphine. Either that, or I'd just crit failed and handed him a small dose of something very bad, but I was pretty confident.

"Side effects?" he said, scowling at the tincture.

"It's also a mild stimulant. After it wears off, you'll crash hard, and taking multiple doses makes the crash much worse. Plus, you might lose a few birthmarks and moles. No worries though."

Zach backed me up as he drummed his fingers on the wheel, stuck in traffic again. "Take it, Rich. We need you at your best."

I dug in my bag more while he knocked back the stuff. "Green apple?" he muttered in confused disbelief, handing it back. Unfortunately, the medkit didn't have any of the nanite-laced pretech healing stuff, so I had limited options for direct healing at the moment.

"That's all I've got for now, although I'll be helping you get better with a few other things from the kit later." I zipped up the medkit and stuffed it in my pack.

"Long as Zach stays by to make sure you don't do anything weird, fine." He let out a long sigh, leaning back into his seat and setting a hand on his stomach as the medicine took hold. He started talking after a moment, more to Zach than me. "So anyway, like I said, one of our guys, Gerry, I think, got a message from one of Coil's goons. Said that if we were really trying to make up for shit, we should meet at the Rock tonight."

"You think it's a trap?"

"Nah, nobody would mess with neutral ground, especially not Mr. Chessmaster. That'd be asking for Empire to go full bore on his guys, draw attention, and for what? We're not exactly big prizes."

While I listened, I dug out my survival kit and started sorting its contents by order of most in need of reverse engineering to least.

"Yeah, true," Zach agreed. "Well, we don't exactly have the costumes up and running yet, so we better throw them together. Something impressive." He weaved around some guy who was going 25 in a 40 zone. "I want to get there early, so we only have a few hours. Let's grab some food, and get to work."

Fuck, my sleep schedule would be kicking in before the meeting. "One more thing," I chimed in from the back. "I'm gonna need an energy drink or two."

"Sure," he said, "I'll pull into a gas station, grab a few."

"Awesome. I'd be dead on my feet otherwise, thanks." I went back to sorting my survival kit, digging the Type-A power cell out of the radio and putting it with the spare. I needed to figure them out first thing tomorrow, if we were going to be fighting for the next week or two. That way, we could print a bunch of cheap and effective power storage for all manner of tinker gear. My mind, however, was on a bigger problem.

Tattletale was going to be at the meeting, and I would be in no shape to hide things from her.

I'd just have to hope things go well.

…Shit.

A/N: It's been a long time since I updated, I know. No idea why I stopped writing, but I broke through recently, so I'm back. I'm not going to promise any kind of schedule for this or any of my stories, but I will say this one is officially not dead. New chapters when I can.

In other news, I have another Worm fic coming next Wednesday. If you like Worm but thought it wasn't nearly ridiculously dark and wacky enough, I've crossed it with Saints Row to make your dreams come true.