An Absolutely Broken Inventory System

by kaviyarasank124

An Absolutely Broken Inventory System

An Absolutely Broken Inventory System (SI, Worm, Gamer-inspired)

By: AirBreather

How broken can an uncapped Inventory-system user become? Let's find out!

Logical OP progression planned, snow-balling fast pace. Eventual multi-cross. Memory-intact SI. Updates at month start.

Status: ongoing

Published: 2021-11-01

Updated: 2022-06-03

Words: 72416

Chapters: 12

Original source: threads/968150

Exported with the assistance of

1 - An Unfamiliar Alleyway

A/N: special SB shout-out: I *think* NitroNorman did a related concept, but can't seem to find the thread. Started in Gotham city, if that helps.

1 - An Unfamiliar Alleyway

I woke up, groggy and stiff, half-buried under a mountain of cardboard pieces, to the squealing of a car's brakes in the distance.

My eyes shot painfully wide open to the sight of a glowing blue rectangle. 'Check Inventory' was written on it, the near-translucent shape following my vision as I whipped my head back and forth. It faded in seconds, revealing a grime-encrusted alleyway, choked with a line-up of over-flowing dumpsters and an assortment of garbage bags.

A rancid, bitter scent assaulted my nose as I attempted to gather my thoughts, further smells of spilled gasoline and car exhaust adding to the mix. Cardboard pieces were adjusted to better serve as my haphazard throne as I went into self-reflection.

The madness-flavoured thought of 'am I a Gamer?' sprung to mind, followed by attempts to think and mutter out loud every version of 'status' and 'skills' I could imagine. None of them worked.

Finally, following the one prompt I had been given, I carefully mentally enunciated 'Inventory.'

A primitively simple interface then appeared, this new rectangle divided into two sections. The left held the classic image of Da Vinci's posing man picture - Vitru Man or something? - whose form shimmered and changed as I watched it. The doubled arms and legs went down to single pairs, and the naked sketch-work quickly gained clothes. A glance down at what I was wearing confirmed that they matched: a plain black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers, and matching mid-rise boots. All mostly fitted in cut, but not so body-hugging as to be uncomfortable.

I ignored the now-noticed chill with a deep, much regretted breath, and flicked my attention to the right of my posed-self copy. White lines on a black background outlined a dense grid of squares, the first two in the upper left being the only ones with items within them. A white mask with a black mark on the forehead filled the first, while a white square with some tiny squiggles on it, likely indicative of writing, was in the second.

The bottom of the Inventory rectangle had two extra details: a gear-like icon, near the far right corner, and the self-explanatory text of 'Volume 1%' in the middle. The lack of any other details suggested that my Inventory had no weight limits, but a dingy alleyway was hardly an appropriate space for in-depth experimentation.

Bringing my attention back to those sole two items, I focused my attention on the simpler of the pair, the white square.

'Paper (unstable)' popped up as a new glowing blue rectangle, which I ignored as I reached further into the grid space and pulled out a plain white sheet, marked with large, black, blocky lettering.

My quick read of the page was repeated, over and over, as the edges began to dissolve like a cheap digitized special effect.

'You're in Brockton Bay, Earth Bet. You have an Absolutely Broken Inventory System (upgradeable).'

Random thoughts bounced around in my head, none of them positive. Denial was an ever-present option; paired with apathy, the whole package of 'waking up from a dream when you die' sounded pessimistically wonderful. However, I'd need a suitably high jumping point or speeding vehicle to get over my panicked realizations that everything here and now was too utterly real.

The stench alone was doing a fantastic job at eroding any active denial I could bring up. With my personal gaslighting tank running dry, the well-remembered nightmares of the Worm setting instead came to mind: the Ziz-bombs of the Simurgh. The constructed abominations of Bonesaw. The endlessly agonizing time-loops of Grey Boy. The horror-movie-style cannibalistic hunting by the invincible Siberian. Every unnamed sadist paired with a parahuman power suited to act out their shard-driven conflict drives, or more human base desires.

I bit my lip, darkly chuckling, and contemplated that playing chicken with a speeding, over-loaded dump truck might still be one of my more attractive options.

My floating Inventory screen provided a small measure of reassurance that I wasn't stuck in a completely hopeless situation.

I held onto that faint optimism as I took out the other item - 'Full-face mask (can't repair/upgrade)' - and examined it. The small marking on the forehead revealed itself to be a black square, starkly vivid against the cheap glaze of waxed white paper. Fine, mesh-like holes covered the ears and lower front of the mask, while grey-tinted plastic - guessed with finger-nail tapping - covered the eye openings. There was no stretch or give to the neck's collar, and no apparent way to put on the mask without breaking it.

Unless, of course, I followed Gamer conventions and did the obvious by 'equipping' the item on my Inventory figurine.

The transition was perfect and seamless. One instant my head was openly bared to the temperate stench of Brockton Bay, the next had it fully, comfortably enclosed.

The poor lighting of the alleyway was rendered slightly darker by the mild tint of my glasses, and the sounds were likewise partially muffled. A small bit of moisture was already gathering by my mouth, the tiny holes hardly sufficient for seamless breathing. Some movement of my jaw confirmed a tight fit unsuitable for all but the most mangled of talking.

Basically, it was a cheap, tight-fitting starter helmet-mask for whatever parahuman cops-and-robber games were played here on Earth Bet. I'd need to get something better soon - if I didn't die before such happened.

As a point of curiosity, the labels I had seen so far - unstable, can't repair/upgrade - suggested that different types of stability existed for items, as well as some repairing and upgrading features. Whether I could do those actions now or some time later remained to be seen.

The last unexplored aspect on my still-floating Inventory screen was that little gear-shaped icon. A small spark of my probing attention was answered when another blue screen popped up, this one with the heading of 'Settings.'

Under that bold text, two single lines of writing followed. The first was 'Inventory Style,' which went no further than revealing the unhelpful 'Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).' The second, 'Inventory-wide Effects,' had another set of entries that froze me speechless until another distant blaring car-horn blast broke me out of it.

'Mage's Private Sanctum*' and 'Obscure Object*.'

This time, more comprehensive details appeared when I focused on them.

Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

Those were Pathfinder spells! Or D & D, if I wanted to give the aged table-top role-playing behemoth its due. Additionally, while I couldn't remember the exact original spell descriptions, I knew enough to state that they were different. Very curious - I'd have to see if some other tie-ins to those massive settings occurred.

They might also explain the lack of a glowing doorway that framed a hat-wearing Contessa, or the immediate knock-down results from an instantly executed, convoluted scheme of the distant Endbringer Simurgh. However, my Inventory wasn't me… right? There were still my memories of years of reading Worm, tons of related fan-fiction, and the odd wiki-trawl of its sequel, Ward. There must be more to this. Still, I'd refrain from shouting out anything that would catch the eye of Path to Victory.

My first steps on self-mastery began with filling my Inventory with the cardboard pieces that surrounded me. I began with feeding each fragment into an empty grid space, only to watch them merge together into one labelled square. By the time I had eliminated the cleaner cardboard around me, and moved onto to the grime-caked pieces nearer the alley floor, the volume tracker had broken past seven percent.

I changed things up with the first rancid garbage bag. Rather then bodily carry it to my glowing screen, I instead willed it into the space. After a brief, imcomphrensable sense of stretching, a strange, unheard snap followed and the bag disappeared. Each following black plastic bag went smoother than the one previous, with near no delay by the sixth. For the seventh, I made the same attempt without my Inventory screen present.

That also worked, with no problems.

The eighth failed, paired with a ghostly sensation akin to my whole body lightly bouncing off a soft, rubberized wall.

A quick check-in at my Inventory screen revealed the reason why: the volume percentage had risen to ninety-eight, and the latest bag likely pushed it past the limit.

In the spirit of my completest nature, I spent a few moments hunting my slightly cleaned corner for appropriately tiny objects. The closest candidates were thick, rippling fragments of dark brown rust marring the sides of the nearest dumpster.

My pinched attempt at one of those metal flakes met me with a confusing success. Rather than the expected removal of the entire fragment, it was as if my fingers had melted a perfect line through the greater piece.

Under my mask, a raised eyebrow marked my surprised stare at the polished-like gleam of raw, unpainted metal.

"Huh," I huffed out, and attempted to replicate the process. My repeated 'pinches' left repeated streaks of bare metal. On a whim, I tried doing the same thing on the more intact stretches of the dumpster, and the only difference was the depth of those finger-sourced cuts.

Both my eyebrows attempted to meet my hairline as a minor light-bulb of an idea brightened up.

Instead of pinching, I pressed into the dumpster with a single finger, keeping the same intention of sending what I touched into my Inventory.

The only resistance I met was when my knuckles thunked against the surface.

More incredulous surprise followed, quickly turned to amused acceptance, as I rapidly poked finger-holes into the solid metal of the dumpster.

After the corner nearest me was more holes than solid, I expanded the idea to encompass my entire hand. Instead of finger-pokes, I began simply waving through the metal, an action oddly seamless apart from a jittery, shuddering sense of hesitation every few seconds.

My reopened Inventory screen revealed a likely reason for such hesitation. With an eye on the volume percentage, now at ninety-nine, my matter-absorbing hand-waving had the numbers briefly rise to a full one hundred before they quickly fell again.

'Hmm,' I thought to myself, 'is it really growing the more I add to it?!'

I tested the idea by expanding my Inventory-sending touch to encompass the rest of my arm, then the other. I kept on moving through the garbage bags and dumpsters, ignoring newly revealed mould and rotten food with further stench-destroying swipes. I grew bolder, expanding the effect to all but the bottoms of my booted feet, and began to hesitantly walk through the remaining trash.

Any awkwardness I now held was less from lack of confidence in my abilities, and more in fear of what happened if I tripped, fell, and sank into the bowels of the earth. Or, from what I remember of the geography of Brockton Bay, an underground freshwater aquifer of some sort.

Only when the previously trash-filled alleyway was rendered bare by my efforts did I spend a moment to look around. The lack of obstructions allowed the few buzzing lights to better illuminate the empty space.

The lone break to the filth-stained brick walls and broken pavement of the ground was a large piece of graffiti done in bright reds and greens. It depicted an Oriental-style wingless dragon, curled around the triple letters of ABB.

'Ah. Shit.' I swallowed, my whole body suddenly tense and hunched up in an attempt to make myself a smaller target.

A look at the roof-line revealed the absence of any leering masked figures, and the nightly background city noises lacked mangled Engrish shouted by a flame-wielding rage dragon.

'Maybe nothing will happen?' I wondered, slowly relaxing, creeping towards the opening of the alleyway.

My subtle approach was ruined by the sudden appearance of a man hauling two garbage bags, one over each shoulder.

I stared at the likely kitchen help, his stained apron and elbow length black rubber gloves adding to the image.

My awkward, friendly wave was answered with a squint of his eyes, his skin tone and epicanthic folds marking his likely central Asian background. He barked out a string of words that sounded more like Chinese than Japanese, to which I answered with a shrug.

He dropped the garbage bags, pointing at me with a accusing black rubber finger, and another stream of incomprehensible words followed. The only difference was that I picked up three of them: Oni, Lee, and Lung.

The thin-lipped smile I hid behind my cheap face-mask went brittle.

'Fight, flee, or freeze?' I mentally asked myself.

My answer to that question was to give the now very irritated-looking man a jaunty little wave that hid any discomfort I may have felt, and began power-walking away. I resisted the urge to hunch my shoulders in the expectations of being shot or worse, and began to get even more lost in the back-street depths of Brockton Bay.

- [+] -

My late night, sober drunken walk-style meanderings were mixed with quiet terror and foolish confidence.

Every wall I scored through with my fingertips bolstered me up with the idea of how I was a discount Siberian. Opposite that, the thoughts of a single Oni Lee-delivered grenade - of the conventional explosive or more exotic Tinker-tech variety - being dropped beside me were enough to quell any sense of bravado.

I had no real sense of where I was headed, or how to get there. Instead, I aimed to always move towards streets or buildings that seemed under better repair and as far from being Oriental themed as possible.

As I rotated among my fitness limited options of either walking fast or jogging slow, I dumped out the majority of my Inventory. In piles large and small, mixtures of scrap metals, plastics, and rotten kitchen waste were added to the fragrant background of this infamous dump of a city.

While I reduced my reserves to the final vague and familiar 'Volume 1%' value, the realization that I could only expel items at near-zero speed and distance was disgustingly unwelcome.

The one experiment I pursued during this time was an attempt to put myself into my Inventory. As is, the piece of paper that I had first grabbed was taken by my hand physically entering that altered space. Shoving my whole arm, or both arms, into there was also done without any trouble.

A conveniently sheltered cul-de-sac between two mismatched abandoned buildings provided me with enough mental space for a more comprehensive effort. I stood about an arm's width away from the darkness shrouded walls, brought up the glowing screen of my Inventory, lightly rested my hands against the surface, and willed myself in.

Pitch-black breathless terror followed, and I all but mentally screamed my desire for escape.

Gasping, wheezing, my hands now marred by whatever muck my boots had been traipsing through, I considered what had gone wrong. While perhaps foolish, I started with the premise that my Inventory was not an innately hostile place, immediately dismissing related thoughts. With that foundation in place, the answer was obvious once I again pulled up my glowing rectangle: air!

Either actively pulled in while I was in my Inventory, or gathered prior, I needed something to breathe. I didn't magically gain the ability to survive in whatever space I went into. The other missing aspect was light, but the dim glow of my Inventory screen did seem to provide a faint amount of illumination. However, it was likely only in my own head as no reflected glare from the summoned screen shone around me whenever I used or moved it.

Willing myself to become an atmospheric vacuum of sorts, I eyed the still and frozen volume description with a glare. The only feedback was a growing number next to a slightly hazy Inventory square, and the suction-like air-flow my hands felt near each other.

Some impatient minutes later, I again attempted my elaborate Inventory-space entering ritual, immediately willing myself out again upon my success. My next few attempts I allowed myself more time in the now air-filled darkness, relaxing in what I considered the first truly safe moments I've had since I've showed up in this godsforsaken hellhole of a world.

Only once I felt my draining adrenaline turn to fatigue did I pass up the opportunity for rest. It would be a horribly Darwinian tragedy if I were to fall asleep and die via asphyxiation in my own personal extra-dimensional space.

Thankfully, I could watch the growing numbers of 'Atmospheric air' in its respective Inventory square, but the amounts seemed to be rising slower than when I was 'outside.' On top of which, I had no idea if that process would continue while I was unconscious.

The most fascinating new item in my glowing Inventory screen was myself.

Rather than the static figure on the left of my Inventory, the small grid square 'I' occupied was a dynamic reflection of my movements, posture, and position - all better illuminated than the darkness I found myself within. Beside my bolded name lay the tag of '(stable),' which was a reassuring source in itself. The descriptive pop-up box also gave me the definite reasons why I had not been snatched up by Cauldron.

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

I'd have to test what mental protections those changes really offered under safer, more controlled circumstances. While I could loosely - very loosely - state that I had at least passive protection from Contessa's Path to Victory, the other big Thinker powers included Tattletale's information gathering and the pseudo-split timelines of Coil. Among Masters, there was a much wider swath of emotional manipulators, such as Glory Girl, Gallant, Heartbreaker, and Cherish, followed by the more drastic influencers such as the Slug's memory editing and the Ziz-bombing of the feathered Endbringer herself.

Seeing my own name paired with such an inhuman description was subtly disquieting. Thankfully, I had the wonderful distraction of the dual identity game played by parahumans and their maskless civilian personas. The longer I could go without indulging in panic-attack inducing speculation the better. On top of those thoughts, the question of ever using - or even simply revealing - my pre-Earth-Bet 'true' name was something I'd have to consider carefully.

That took me all of five seconds, tops, sitting in the darkness, before I firmly decided that nobody in this entire multiverse would ever know my original identity as long as I had the means to not share it.

Not using my real identity brought up the idea of a 'new' civilian name, a topic I considered while lying on my back and staring at nothing. A number of edge-lord worthy aliases danced through my consciousness, mixed with the mundane and humorous. I eventually settled on the first name of 'Ozzy,' the shorter form of the pretentious Ozymandias, balanced out by the generic sounding surname of 'Grey.' Nothing in the middle this time.

'Ozzy Grey.'

With that inner decision, the name on my little Inventory square updated to reflect my choice. Convenient.

I then tossed aside the whole of my prior life into a small ball of denial and mental compartmentalism, and inwardly brought up the topic of my cape identity. I went through a similar mix of edgy and thematic names, while adding in some invented words to my brainstorming. A small light-bulb of an idea came when I absentmindedly rubbed the forehead of my mask, considering the black square there.

'Perhaps… Blackbox?'

I tested it out, rolling the name around in my mouth and going through some imaginary action sequences. While it didn't feel perfect, the fit was close enough that I didn't shudder at the idea of being called it.

My more pressing needs met, I did some halfhearted stretches and willed myself back out of my lightless space.

It took me a few blinks to get used to the slightly brighter ambient city lighting of my claimed shadowy cul-de-sac, but I soon confidentially headed off in a completely random direction.

- [+] -

I don't know if I really expected to simply come across some helpful heroes or an idling PRT van, so my lack of such wasn't that disappointing. Instead, I based my hopes on the sight of an open, well-lit, combination gas-station convenience store.

The heavy glass door opened at my push, announcing a new victim to the bowels of over-priced impulse buys with the annoyingly high-pitching dingalings of tiny bells.

A quick glance was all I spared for the well-stocked isles of brightly packaged junk before my steps led me up to the cashier, a wiry, thin blonde that reminded me of a starved 'surfer bro.' His coughs and the still-present smell of weed confirmed that stereotype.

"Hey." I spoke first, greeting his blood-shot eyes with a flicked wave. I forced past my mask's restrictions with a touch of extra volume.

"Uh… yeah?" One of his hands held on to the plastic counter, whose lightly scratched surface covered a collage of lottery tickets, while the other attempted to covertly wave away faint curls of smoke. He swayed as if in an invisible breeze; a subtle check over my own hands revealed that I, at least, wasn't the source of whatever was effecting him.

"Please call the PRT for me."

"… why?"

"Because…" I hadn't considered being stopped at this point. "… I want you to? And could I talk to them?"

"Oh." The grease-locked blonde took that in, swaying back and forth in contemplative silence. "Sure. Uh… gimme a sec."

I waited through his fumbling searches as he pulled out a clunky cordless phone and pressed a quick-dial button on it. The clerk then mumbled into the phone for a few exchanges, then passed it to me.

"PRT Brockton Bay, what is the nature of your emergency?"

"Ah." Once more I felt rather put on the spot. I'd just have to wing it. "I'm a newly triggered parahuman with no money and nowhere to go. I thought that it'd make sense to call you guys…?"

"There is no active emergency?"

"No, but -"

"Please hold -"

"Some guy mentioned Oni Lee and Lung!" I managed to blurt out before the line closed.

"Sir, we'd need more substantive evidence than third party mentions for those individuals. Have you yourself seen them?"

"Ah… no? C'mon! I'm trying to not suddenly fall into…" I shrugged, mind wandering, staring at the smoke-stained ceiling. "… urgent circumstantial villainy or something."

"Sir?"

"… yes?"

"After you are put on hold, the next person can help you out. Understand?"

"Okay… fine. Thanks."

The next sounds I heard were a mid-note started classical piece, lowered in audio quality enough that I couldn't get the slightest sense of its character. The music was in turn frequently interrupted by much clearer messages, such as "thank you for waiting" and various warning about "federal criminal charges for misuse of PRT resources."

Dwayne - I caught what I assumed what his name from a pin on his nearly neon-bright orange vest - used this dead time to surreptitiously puff at an already lit blunt. My glaring at his actions didn't change anything, obviously due to my face-mask.

After a not quite nails-on-chalkboardingly long time, a new voice spoke up.

"Thank you for waiting, this is Leslie speaking, how can I help you?"

I let out a teeny cheer, then cleared my throat. "Hello, yes, ah…" Another cough. "This is… Blackbox. I recently…" Well, technically I don't know if I triggered, according to the Worm-verse definition. "… gained some powers and thought I'd do the right thing by talking to the PRT. I don't have any money or a place to crash, so…"

"Well, Blackbox," she began, and I didn't quite notice if there was an extra inflection on my newly assumed cape name, "you've made the right choice! Now, in order for us to better accommodate you, there are some screening questions to go through…"

A polite series of rapid-fired queries followed, mostly having to do with if my powers were an immediate threat to myself or others, or if there was any sort of crimes or hot pursuit situations I was connected to. My repeated mention of both of the ABB's heavy hitter capes only garnered a thoughtful hum, while my willingness to conduct an in-depth interview and power testing were met with more enthusiasm on her part.

All the while we were on the phone, I wondered if Leslie was a criminal plant, or how long it would take for a transcript to be 'leaked' to Coil or read by a member of Cauldron.

After our talk petered out with her reassurance that an official PRT vehicle would arrive in "under two hours," I passed back the phone to Dwayne and settled into a spot among the shelves that would grant me oversight over the main door and the store's oblivious clerk. For a greater sense of safety, I brought myself back into the confines of my Inventory.

As I settled into what limited sense of comfort the rubber-like floor could grant me, I again pulled up my Inventory screen for consideration. A glance to the featureless surfaces on either side of me confirmed that the dim glow was present inside here, unlike the world at large.

Building on my previous observations, I began willing a concept at the rectangle: that of being a window, a screen - an observational portal of sorts. Flickers and ripples, reminiscent of when when the Da Vinci man streamlined into its current appearance, ran over the now oddly familiar interface.

After one last bout of near-total-transparency, the whole shape settled into what I thought was a window overlay. The smoke stains of the convenience store ceiling helped confirm my guess.

As I moved around, the window's relative position followed me. However, the limits of that appeared to be revolving around a single point in the store's aisles - I wasn't able to change from the spot where I initially entered my Inventory.

Once I had the 'window' orientated back towards the store's main entrance, I began playing with it. Hands on the edges, I was able to stretch and squish the shape, but not to change it from anything apart from its four-sided, two-dimensional representation. The more I handled it, the more the interface seemed to gain a sense of solidity. It started as an imagined presence, hardly even tingles in my finger-tips, and rapidly moved through ever-harder stages until it became close to a floating glass window in truth. While seemingly a perfectly flat two-dimensional object, the edges didn't cut me or feel uncomfortably sharp.

'Hmm. Still no sign of the PRT.'

I skimmed over the garbage-sourced dregs that remained in my Inventory.

The total wealth I had was contained in a single square labelled as 'American Coinage (stable),' with the addendum of '$7.03' appearing as I focused on them. The amount was likely enough to grab a calorie-stuffed feast from this store, but I'd rather see if the PRT offered a better alternative. Thankfully, all of the coins I had looked either brand new or relatively clean.

One of my other 'scores,' if I could truly consider it that, was a well-worn, kid-sized Miss Milita brand watch. The greens-shaded camo-style wrist-band was frayed and torn, and the screen was cracked in multiple places. Apart from those problems, the digital display seemed to be in perfect working order, revealing a full time and date. One of the buttons even brought up a dim light that illuminated half of the small screen.

A new option popped up after I had put the wristwatch back into an empty square: install. I picked it without any further consideration, curious, and was rewarded when the bottom edge of my Inventory screen gained additional details. Halfway between the 'Volume 1%' and the settings icon appeared 'FRI APR 01 2011 03:47:03.' My glaring gaze had it swiftly change into a more reader-friendly 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.'

The other additions were only discovered when I reexamined the Inventory settings.

'Brightness' was at '100%' and '0%,' with the latter number referring to the ambient light in this extra-dimensional space - something I only figured out when I was fiddling with it. Setting it to the max possible caused a faint green glow to fill my surroundings, turning this unknown void into a more comprehensible featureless blank room. 'Installed Upgrades' had a 'Wrist-watch' entry, with a pop-up going over the already known time, date, and brightness features.

I had a lot to think about. Beyond the utter absurdity of Tinker-tech, even the idea of being able to 'install' conventional technology was enough to give me a case of maniacal cackles. As far as the date went, being welcomed to Earth Bet on April's fools day was its own special brand of madness. I also remembered 2011 being the go-to year for the events of Worm. I think April was when all the events kicked off, but I'd need to read some recent news to refresh myself on the order of events.

That was, of course, under the assumption that the date I had was correct.

- [+] -

I came out of my Inventory space when green and white flashing lights strobed across my window-like interface.

Dwayne still stood at his post, eyes perhaps more blood-shot than before, and waved at me with a lit blunt-holding hand as I passed him. Smoke trails lazily followed his actions, wafting up to add to the stains collected on the once-white ceiling.

"Blackbox! This is the PRT! Show yourself!" The sound blasted the windows before I approached the door, prompting a series of muttered complaints from the sales counter.

I shuffled faster, timidly waving under the glare of focused lights, which immediately shut off. Squinting, blinking out the spots from my vision, I opened the door and approached the PRT-labeled van, whose all-black finish was only challenged by a single purple diagonal line through its logo. No hints of the driver were revealed through the heavily tinted windows.

The unusually thick rear double doors opened as I came closer, and an all-black wearing paramilitary-dressed figure waved me forward, featureless smooth helmet giving me no hint as to what they looked like. The only identifier was a patch on their chest with the letters 'PRT ENE' done in white.

"Blackbox?" A vaguely masculine, digitally distorted voice came from the figure.

"Yeah?" I stopped, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible.

"We're here following your talks with PRT staff. Our orders were to bring you in to the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters, into a secure guest suite, for further processing later today. Understand?"

I gave him - him? - a pair of double thumbs up, following it with a nod in case I wasn't clear enough.

"Sounds good," I continued. "How's this supposed to work?"

In response, he shuffled back into the van, and gestured for me to enter.

Another trooper was already seated as I came into the vehicle, with my greeter sitting opposite them.

As I looked at the rigid seats bolted against the walls, the same voice cut into my musing. "Take one nearest the door, Blackbox."

Doing so, I gave the pair a nod, and strapped myself in. A thought towards my positioning had me realize that I was in a perfectly 'down-range' firing position, and that this was about as cautiously friendly a reception I could expect until - or if - I was more formally aligned with the PRT or Protectorate.

The drive went smooth enough. I stayed silent as the only question I had considered, whether we were going to a PRT or Protectorate building, was already answered. The absence of windows took away the opportunity to sight-see, further reducing any impulse on my part to enjoy the ride.

Upon our announced arrival at the downtown PRT headquarters, I continued to follow the troopers' directions, getting out of the vehicle first and being led through mostly bare hallways. My escort stopped at 'Interview Room 3,' where I was told to wait.

The only noticeable features in this otherwise grey-toned painted room was the obvious one-way mirror, along with a pair of ergonomically shaped bolted down chairs, and a simple square table.

Before I settled myself onto one of the surprisingly comfortable seats, I gave the mirror a little wave in the hopes of speeding things up.

I'll just rest my head here for a few moments.

Chapter 1 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 1 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: wrist-watch light).

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

- Wrist-watch.

Inventory - Screens:

- Composed of a large rectangle.

- Left square: posed paper-doll self with worn items.

- Right square: grid of items (black with white lines).

Inventory - Bottom Bar:

- "Volume 1%" in the middle.

- 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' (date and time) between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

Notable Inventory contents:

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

A/N: I've been quiet for quite a while… starting, stopping, and discarding fan-fics in my own notes. Updates (realistically) planned for the 1st of every month, but I'll dump everything I have at that time. Thanks for reading! (/nothing else currently in buffer)

Last edited: Nov 1, 2021

2 - Some Interesting Interviews

2 Some Interesting Interviews

[April 1st, 2011 - Morning]

"… Blackbox?"

"Ahh!" I suddenly jerked awake, dreams of tap-dancing crystal whales fading from my mind.

A lightly rumpled, dark blue pinstripe suit was worn by the clean-shaven Caucasian official standing by the door. Apart from his small smirk, he carried a steaming Styrofoam cup and had a thin folder tucked under his armpit. A photo-id hanging on a lanyard necklace completed the picture.

He sat down before I finished gathering my thoughts, my own bemused blinks observing him spread out some pages on the table, and pulling out a pen.

A single click focused my attention back onto the here and now.

"Hello, again, I'm Matthew Ceelen, and will be performing your PRT intake interview. To start off, I'd like to confirm the details you gave to Leslie earlier…"

Compared to my prior phone-call, the following questions went much faster, with Matthew mostly responding with encouraging sounds and the quiet scratches of his pen. I gave a cursory demonstration of my original abilities, along with describing how I 'installed' a wrist-watch and the various changes to my game-like graphical user interface.

We soon moved onto wholly original questions.

"Were you intending on joining the Protectorate? Your described situation didn't seem to imply… ah… a stable out-of-costume life."

"Eh…" He was right about the latter point. Apart from what I had on myself and in my Inventory, I had nothing. However, anything to do with the PRT or Protectorate involved the risks of exposure to Cauldron, along with the various corruptions and ineffectual efforts that plagued the organizations in my canonical readings. "Not quite?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm…" How best to politely phrase this. "More like a hero affiliate? Close, but not being in the normal chain of command. I'd be okay with being drafted for temporary or emergency actions. Maybe a formal recruitment in the future? Something between the New Wave heroes and the Protectorate members themselves?"

Matthew may have sensed my lack of confidence, as his frown grew as I spoke.

"Would I be correct in guessing that you're looking for all of the benefits, but none of the downsides…? Along with immediate room and board?"

"Eh…" I hesitated in giving him a simple 'yes.' "Not really," I offered, inwardly cringing, "I'm not looking for the freedom that say… the mercenary group Faultline's Crew has… but I don't want to be stopped from doing more conventional work." Such freedom would also help me if I wanted to employ the Crew, the more well-known Tinker-tech producing Toybox, or the business-orientated Elite. It was a sad fact of life that anyone beyond the most mundane of Rogues, such as the Bay's own Parian, tended to skew towards the villainous side of things. The cliched phrase of 'it's a Cauldron plot!' may, in all actuality, be true.

"That's rather non-standard," he replied, tapping his pen on his knuckles. "However, our legal team should still be able to revise a contract to suit."

"Great!" I hummed in approval. "About how long would that take?"

He shrugged, briefly glancing at the mirror before turning his attention back to me. "Maybe a day or two?"

"Hmm. And where could I stay in the mean time…?"

"Well, you're still in that not-really-approved state… the PRT can't offer what we'd consider an open-access suite, you understand…?"

"Locked doors, I get it," nodding. My earlier implied ability to walk straight through walls wasn't brought up again by ether of us. Polite fictions and social graces polished a lot of gears.

Matthew let out a long sigh. "I'm glad you're so accommodating. New parahumans tend to be in a rather 'hair-trigger' state of mind - for obvious reasons." He flashed me a thin smile. "Was there anything else?"

I mulled over the question. "I'm open to doing power testing in advance, if that helps." A mask-hidden frown marked my hesitation on the next point. "Do you think I could talk to Director Piggot? I have a few pieces of intelligence that might help her out."

His own look of constipation at the Director's name was brief, but notable. "Something about the gangs? Villainous parahumans?"

"Mmm-hmm," I replied, nodding. "For her eyes only, though security is of course welcome. The sooner I'm able to tell her the better, of course."

He kept silent, apart from fiddling with his pen. "I'm hoping you realize that wasting the Director's time would not… ah… reflect well on any of your planned contractual arrangements?"

"Absolutely."

"Fine." He shuffled the papers back into his folder, and picked it up. "Let me make some calls."

"'Kay."

I waited in silence as Matthew left the room. Some light scratches at the mouth-piece of my mask felt wetter than normal - I had to be gentle to prevent it from all but dissolving at my touch. Clearly, whatever temporary use it was intended for I already exceeded.

"You're in luck!"

"Aha?!" I probably fell half-asleep again, as I missed the PRT employee's entrance. "Yeah?"

"Director Piggot can see you in about forty-five minutes."

"Great!" My outward cheer was dimmed by all I've read about her. It spanned the gamut of nearly frothing at the mouth flanderized interpretations to different takes on 'reasonable authority figures.' "Beg your pardon, could I have some writing materials before I meet her?"

- [+] -

I revised my written message multiple times. In a way, this approach was a test of the PRT: were they idiotically ineffectual or actually useful? Were they incapable of doing anything except blasting their requests over a loudspeaker to the whole damn neighbourhood?! I'd be prepping myself for sprinting through these walls in case things totally fell to pieces.

A knock on 'Meeting Room 2' by the trooper that had escorted me was followed by a gruff "Enter!" from the inside, whereupon I was waved in.

I thanked my minder, then panned my view over the room. It was substantially more lavish than the glorified interrogation chamber my earlier talk took place in, with soft lighting indirectly showing off leather executive seats and a long, darkly varnished wooden table. Any security-focused technology present was too subtle for me to spot, either mixed in with the fixtures or hidden behind the textured off-white wallpaper.

A cough brought my attention to the formal business attire wearing, heavy-set blond woman at the head of the table, as well as another armoured PRT trooper standing unobtrusively half-way between us, against the wall.

"Director?" I didn't want to mangle her name on my first try. "Thank you for taking some time to see me."

"Ten minutes won't impact my schedule that badly, Blackbox," she replied. "I was told you have some information for me?"

"Yes, though…" I glanced at the visibly armed trooper. Merely a side-arm, but the thin strip keeping the weapon securely holstered likely only added a second's delay to bullets being sent flying. "I've written it down, and stored it with my power."

"That's fine."

A thought had my familiar Inventory screen pop up, and another had my final letter appear on my open hand. I quickly skimmed over it one last time.

1) Your systems are 100% compromised. Any/all remote login procedures, A/V records, emails, archived files, etc., are a risk. Live camera and audio taps as well as backup access. Agents of Coil and E88 are guaranteed; ABB and others are unknown.

2) Dragon has passive, unconscious, blind-spotted Thinker/Master access by a third party; pursuing this may lead to her sudden death, along with a collapse of all the services she supports. This access is covert/exclusive to that third party and unlikely to be shared/spread to others.

3) Shadow Stalker has been using lethal crossbow bolts in unscheduled, solitary patrols. She has also been physically abusive (to the point of others requiring hospitalization) in her civilian identity, which has been covered up by her high-school and official PRT minders.

4) Coil knows all the civilian identities of the E88, and intends on publicly releasing the information to frame a group that best serves his long term interests. That can be the PRT or another villain group. He likely also knows the civilian identities for all of the Brockton Bay parahumans, Protectorate and Wards included.

5) The Undersiders are secretly employed by Coil, with only Tattletale (recruited at gunpoint) currently knowing of this. Her Thinker power is of super-intuition (e.g. guessing your password by looking at your keyboard, etc). All of the Undersiders can likely be turned to heroes (or at least not active villains) with the right approach.

6) Kaiser is Max Anders. His former wife, Kayden Anders, is Purity. There is a chance that she can be turned away from the E88 as long as her daughter is safe from Max, and not threatened or kept away from her. ANY threats to her daughter will result in lethal, indiscriminate, Endbringer-level retaliation.

7) Coil is Thomas Calvert. His Thinker power is (essentially) paired, simultaneously running timelines, in which he can do one-time actions (e.g. torture, order agents to do suicidal attacks, burn top secret one-time access rights, etc) infinite times for successes, while choosing a rejected timeline to drop. He can be isolated/trapped with a series of pass/fail/death scenarios, like "guess this coin heads/tails or die."

8) You knowing the above is dangerous to both you and me.

9) I know a LOT more high-value, high risk information.

I then made my way closer to the Director, ensuring only that the warning message of 'please read out of sight of recording devices' was on top, then went to the chair farthest opposite her own.

She was already pursuing the letter by the time I sat. Whatever comfort I could pull from the well-padded, high-backed seating was offset by her steadily deepening signs of displeasure.

Only now did I consider that the message, combined with my entire arrival and this approach, made *me* seem like an ex-Coil mercenary. If *I* could think that, likely too could the Director. I'd have to double down on intelligence about the snake-themed cape.

In the stifling silence I went over the more well-known explosive secrets I had *not* leaked: everything to do with Cauldron, their vials, Case 53s, Eden, and Alexandria's civilian identity; Scion and the fate of the world; the true natures and abilities of Endbringers, and how they were unconsciously controlled by Eidolon; the Slaughterhouse Nine, as well as the role Jack could play and how Bonesaw could be 'redeemed'; and the total shit-show of a soap opera that was Brockton Bay's New Wave independent hero group.

Only when I began digging for more obscure remembered details did Director Piggot speak again.

"Shadow Stalker's indiscretions hardly warrant this level of caution," she offered, her expression newly composed.

"Ah?" I blinked behind my mask before getting her subtext: revealing one message and hiding the rest. I hid my own brief confusion with a shrug, before exaggeratedly staring at the armed trooper between us. "One can never know who is a fan of the broody anti-hero, Director."

A mask-hidden, muffled chuckle answered my prompt, before the figure returned to quiet attention.

"I'll need you accessible in order to verify this, of course," she said, folding the paper further and slipping it into an inner pocket of her blazer.

"Of course," I repeated, nodding. I didn't ask whether it would be a cell or a something more freely accessible. "While it might take a few days, perhaps I could room here? There'd be plenty of time to do paperwork as well."

She nodded back, replying, "I'll see what I can do."

The brief moment of following silence was broken only by a single faint 'ding,' and then a much louder series of knocks at the room's door. The Director dismissed me with a wave, which I returned to her and the standing security reminder, and exited to join the company of yet another escort.

A few minutes of hallways later, passing by the two extremes of business-attired and armoured individuals, and I was led to my 'secure guest suite.'

The door to lucky number seven opened with a beep at the touch of my escort's access fob.

After our mutually mumbled dismissals, I took in my new temporary space.

High-tech minimalism was my first impression, with a touch screen by the securely locked door that revealed basic intercom, menu options, and more. The furniture in this sitting area were all clunky, polished metal, sculpted to both appeal to the senses and disguise how heavy and durable they were.

Another pair of doors adorned the far walls, leading to a small, single bed room and a washroom, respectively.

I was torn between getting a shower, crashing, or having the odd bit of food.

Further exploring the touch-pad menu made the decision for me, as I could order from the building's cafeteria for a drop-off a little bit later. I confirmed my extra-large stew order with a moderately large time delay, and started a drawer by drawer search.

- [+] -

'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 4:17 PM,' read the bottom of my Inventory screen, as I had reflexively pulled up the display after being woken up.

I needed some time to place myself, as I mentally ran through the course of this ridiculous day. A full-body pat-down confirmed my clothes' replacements, a simple dark blue sweat-pants and a t-shirt, both PRT branded, and the plain white domino mask I had switched out my original one for. The full head starter had been trashed, its material dissolving under normal wear and simple breathed moisture. The only mark to customization on my 'new' mask was a small black square I had inked onto its surface. Emerging lines of irritation marked the edges where it had pressed against me, proving the mistake of sleeping with it on.

A deep, lingering bell-like tone filled the bedroom, paired with the lights dimming and raising, and I realized what woke me up.

"Yeah?"

Nothing answered my call, and the noise and light-show continued. The possibility of this suite not being bugged to hell and back was slightly rising.

Sighing, I swung out of the small bed, slipped into my boots, and made my way to the front door.

A bell-like icon was flashing at the touch-pad, which disappeared at my prodding. Rather than the expected call, video or otherwise, a short message was on the screen.

'Blackbox: you have a meeting scheduled at 5:15 PM. Please be ready at 5 PM for your escort.'

I grumbled at the lack of details, but the hefty advance warning was welcome. There was no idea if the meeting was for power testing or a follow-up on my letter to the Director, though.

The remaining time was spent with a brief refresher in the washroom, along with a small order of a sandwich and juice.

My escort through the building followed the same routine, with the only notable changes being our ride in a very smoothly moving elevator.

Our journey ended at a rather heavy slab of a door, looking more like the entrance to a small bank vault than something I'd ever expect to see in an office building. A hand-wide 'T-1' was present on its surface, centred and shallowly engraved without a hint of extra colour.

My escort's fob only prompted a yellow light to flash above the door, followed by a voice coming from hidden speakers.

"I'll take it from here, sergeant Alexander."

"Understood, Armsmaster," the newly identified sergeant spoke, before turning to leave.

I gave his retreating back a poorly timed wave, then watched the door open with a smooth, unnatural silence.

"Come inside."

"Right," I muttered, before doing just that.

What greeted me was obviously a Tinker's lab, but I had no frame of reference beyond sci-fi movies and various encounters with more conventional mechanical service rooms.

Before I could better examine the many marvels, my attention was drawn towards the three figures near a flimsy-looking table and chairs setup. Director Piggot was already seated, still wearing the same formal attire as our previous meeting, while the others were an armoured pair, wearing much heavier, customized gear than any of the PRT officers I had already seen.

The taller of the two I guessed as Armsmaster, as the combination of half-mask, blue-and-white armour, and an expertly trimmed goatee all but shouted his name.

The shorter one's armour was not immediately recognizable, as the design was masculine enough to suggest either Kid Win or Gallant. Then again, Gallant had the 'knight' theme going for the Ward, which the glowing blue lines did an adequate job of highlighting.

"Gallant, is it?"

"Yes," he replied, after an oddly long wait.

I mentally flashed back to my personal item description. 'Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information divination methods.' For better or worse, I hadn't disclosed those details. This Ward was likely here in his emotional aura reading capacity, and my pulling a 'blank' on him likely wouldn't help things.

"My apologies," I began, "I may have forgotten to mention that I'm immune to parahuman extra-sensory powers and abilities that affect the mind."

"That's not a problem," Director Piggot smoothly replied, without so much as a visible flicker of emotion. "As you haven't yet gone through power testing, it would be unrealistic to expect you to disclose such." She glanced at Armsmaster. "It could even be stated that revealing those extra abilities - *before* formally joining the Protectorate - is a mark in your favour."

'A rather large assumption there that I would be joining, Director,' I mused, if only in the silence of my own head.

"Indeed," the bearded figure replied, "though by what means did discover these immunities? And what prompted you to reveal them now?" An armoured gauntlet gestured towards Gallant, as if answering the question for me.

"Haa…" I'd have to assume that Armsmaster's lie detection Tinker-tech was up, running, and effective against whatever protections I had. An honest approach would be good practice, regardless. "The same means by which I can examine items in my extra-dimensional Inventory are the means by which I can examine myself. It was a surprise, though a welcome one."

"As far as the timing goes," I continued, also glancing at the stiffly standing Gallant, "that would be connected to the same source as various passed on intelligence." I didn't bluntly state that the Ward could see emotional auras, but I hoped that my hints were enough to imply that I already knew such. I also didn't know if Gallant wanted to hear the more clandestine aspects of his abilities spoken about by a stranger.

A look between the Director and Armsmaster was marked with some small gesture, likely a signal of some sorts, before she continued leading the discussion.

"Understood," she said, "though since his emotion-effecting projectiles are so well known, perhaps some testing would be warranted?"

"Sure," I replied, shrugging. "I don't mind." Finally addressing the younger figure, "do you have a usual method for this sort of thing?" What sorts of acts a hormone-riddled Master could do was not stated, though his written reputation was rather above board.

"Usually a limb," he said, metal-clad boots clanking as he stepped off to the side, "though since you're standing I'd recommend an arm."

"Got it."

No further words were exchanged, as I loosely held out an arm, expecting baseball-pitched levels of force. When the pink beam of energy finally hit, the mild sting was underwhelming.

"Nothing," I confirmed, shaking out my limb. "Want to go through a few different ones?"

Varying coloured thin beams and small orbs continued to be sent to my out-stretched arm, all to no avail. I eventually switched sides, and pulled up my Inventory at the same time. The willed intention to catch these projectiles was pushed towards my system, and the next few exchanges were notably different.

Rather than cause their familiar stinging impacts, each attack instead disappeared upon physical contact. At that same time, a very brief flash of colour appeared in my first empty Inventory square.

Gallant noticed the changes before I said anything.

"Did you do something?" He asked.

"Yes," I replied, bemusedly distracted. "I set my Inventory to catch your projectiles, and I kept on getting brief flashes of them before they disappeared." I softly chuckled, then addressed our silent observers. "Any chance Gallant here could get permission to blast around inside my empty space?"

Director Piggot made as if to speak, but was cut off by the fast reply of Armsmaster.

"I'll go first," he said, striding up to me. His own sleek power armour made substantially less noise than Gallant's. "Initial attempt: four seconds in, then back out. Once I've confirmed it is safe, you'll join me while I go in for a longer scan. After that - if I approve - Gallant may make his own decision. Understood?" His helmet panned across both me and the Ward at the question.

Gallant's acknowledgement mingled with my own, and Armsmaster held out an arm towards me. Before I could ask for any other prompting, he spoke, "Now, please."

I only spared a moment of hesitation towards my first breathless terror moments, then touched his arm while willing him *specifically* into the empty room-like void of my Inventory. His tiny representation appeared in an empty square while I obsessively counted those four single seconds.

"Everything all right?" I greeted him back to the real world with that question, pulling my hand back from his shoulder.

"Yes, adequately so," he replied. "The longer scan?"

I detected what might have been a hint of impatience in his tone.

"Of course, Armsmaster," I said. "I'll need to send you first again, so…?"

An arm was pushed towards me, and I sent him back into the Inventory, swiftly following.

The dim green glow of my over-sized black cubical room was soon illuminated by high-power LEDs from Armsmaster's suit. He did no overt actions apart from softly probing the ground with one of his gauntleted hands. Whatever scanning methods he used, if any, were integrated into his Tinker-tech armour.

"Gallant isn't aware of the topics you shared with Director Piggot," he finally said.

"I assumed so," I replied. "And I take it you'd like things to stay that way?"

"Correct."

With that comment, nothing else was needed to be done. After checking with Armsmaster, I exited my Inventory, pulling him out soon after, and obtained Gallant's approval for our earlier idea. His attempts in my Inventory space - my Blackbox, for lack of a better term - only extended the time I glimpsed his projectiles by a second or two, at most. Afterwards, he was excused from the room and the mood went substantially more serious.

"So," I began, feeling significantly more exposed with a domino mask than I had been with my throwaway, "have you had a chance to look over… things?"

"If you are referring to the note you gave me earlier today, both Armsmaster and myself managed to follow up on some of them," Director Piggot said.

"Correct," he added. "However, the Director brought up some points that she'd like to address first."

I pulled out my own flimsy metal seat at the table, shuffling in closer, while waiting for her to speak.

"Are there any risks with revealing the source of your intelligence?"

I let out a small sigh at the question. It was predictable, and I had already prepped an answer, but the only complication I had was how much details I'd have to provide. Going deeper into the topic also brought up the existential crisis question: was I in the past of an actual alternate reality? Or… something else? I didn't want to consider where that rabbit hole went in the slightest.

"So," I finally began, staring at a machinery-filled wall rather than either of them, "I have had access - access which I no longer have - to a series of documents that comprehensively outlined a certain course of events, from varying perspectives, along with in-depth dossiers of a number of individuals. I believe that if I were to even speak the full extent of what I know, right here and now, there is a high chance that we'd all be killed."

'A reasonable improvisation,' I thought, pausing to breathe. Each point I stated was absolutely true, yet at the same time a completely different interpretation of 'read a web serial and checked out some wiki pages.'

Armsmaster answered the Director's loaded gaze with an obvious nod, and she turned her attention back to me.

"I see," she said. "While saying so may be rather redundant, please don't speak of such high risk topics."

"Mmm-hmm," I replied, nodding. "That's the plan."

"Thank you." A single thick finger tapped the metal surface of the table. "Some other obvious questions that - at this point - are merely a formality for our records."

'And,' I thought, 'the scrutinizing gaze of Armsmaster's lie detector, perhaps?'

"Do you foresee needing any protection from criminal or other hostile groups?"

"No." I hesitated, before continuing with, "I think that the whole Oni Lee and Lung mention was just an ABB-affiliated restaurant worker trying to scare me, now."

"I'm aware of that," the Director replied. "Moving on… do you have any relationships with known criminal elements, here in Brockton Bay, or elsewhere?"

"No."

More questions were asked along similar lines, variations on those themes. None of which I had to answer in anything but a negative. During the process, Director Piggot may have relaxed the most infinitesimal amount. A change of topics occurred when Armsmaster took charge of the conversation.

"Regardless of the reasons you outlined as to Dragon being a risk factor," he began, "it was only with her assistance that a number of holes in both the PRT's and Protectorate's systems were discovered. A sizable portion of them were designed for one-time usage, supporting your written statements about Coil's Thinker abilities."

"Thomas Calvert," the Director interjected, slowly hissing out his name.

"Yes, though evidence-backed confirmation of his identity, along with the means to successfully capture him, are still to be created."

I had nothing to add to that, so only nodded along in encouragement.

"Plans are also in the works for a mutually non-hostile extraction of Purity and her family, though with all names stripped from the process." He paused, beard-lined jaw moving from side to side. "The very first steps into investigating Shadow Stalker revealed that she had been in violation of her probationary Ward status. The exact consequences she will be facing have not yet been determined, while those that have supported her actions are already on track for as harsh a disciplinary action as possible."

"As well as those that were blind to her actions," the Director added, to which the Tinker acknowledged with a pained sound of acknowledgement.

Given my earlier disclosures, nothing was said about my own reference to her actions as a civilian. Regardless, a lot had been done in these few hours, and I marked such with a silent whistle, adding, "thank you for taking this seriously."

"We have to," Director Piggot said, eyes locked to my own mask. "While we normally can't blindly accept accusations or statements from utter unknowns - such as yourself - as the basis to immediately take expensive actions, enough of what you stated could be verified as true. From there, I had to take them all as potentially serious. While a heavy-handed approach may necessitate some… reorganizing of sorts… it would be worth it to eliminate such gaping weaknesses."

"I'm in agreement, Director," Armsmaster said. "However, neither Dragon or myself have been able to even come close to fully clearing our shared organizational systems. The best that could be done was some partitioning that…" He sighed. "Though I doubt that the technical details are wanted."

"Thank you," the Director said, shifting in her seat. "While Armsmaster has outlined what I'd like to consider ongoing projects with a reasonable chance of success, we've yet to approach your other points."

A thought flashed back to what I had written, then I chipped in with, "That would be Dragon, the Undersiders, and Coil's mass civilian identity revealing plans?"

"More or less," the Director answered. "If there were any further details…?"

"Yeah, I get it," I replied, glad that the source of my info had already been explained in a somewhat plausible manner.

"Alright," I continued, rubbing my scalp along the irritated mask-edges, "before I begin, I'd like to state that I'm doing this pro bono. No sort of real, tangible benefits have been even hinted to be going my way, and…" I shrugged, sighing, before continuing, "… so what? If this 'little talk' can't be taken under consideration when future contract details are drawn up, that will be the best insight I could ever get into the PRT and Protectorate as a whole."

Neither replied to my comment, but I didn't expect them to.

"So…" I went through a long, drawn out breath. "Let's start with Coil, and build up from there. He has the Thinker ability to effectively run two simultaneous, stream-of-consciousness 'time-lines.' While it almost appears to be a perfectly modelled doubled universe, it is slightly - but only slightly - less than that: the discarded timeline is somehow predicted in advance, with the one 'kept' never being the simulation. Either way, it ends up with him almost always having a 'safe' timeline."

"Because of his time-line-like approach," I continued, "he can deliberately do insane or one-time actions to get even the most minor bits of intelligence that he could then use in the real one. This includes, as I mentioned before, torture, ordering his agents - in the PRT and elsewhere - to go 'hot' and leak him info, or even to the extent of pretending to turn himself in while asking a few pointed questions. He can also do it remotely, giving his mercenary forces go/don't go commands for any part of any engagement they are sent on. However, it doesn't give him any extra time or warnings, and he can be trapped into lose/lose scenarios or simply 'forced' to be present via Russian roulette or 'guess heads or tails right now or die' situations. Death also force closes a time-line."

"For how long could he do this?" Director Piggot asked.

I shrugged, uncertain as to the 'when' and not willing to reveal Coil's vial empowerment, then replied with, "He didn't trigger at Ellisberg, if that is what you are asking. Apart from that… a few years, at minimum. What else… oh yeah. He has a full James Bond villain style underground headquarters, here in Brockton Bay, that he gained via co-opting an unfinished Endbringer shelter. The base is all but certain to be rigged with explosives, which probably have a number of dead-man switches, timers, and as many insane fail-safes on it as you can imagine."

"As far as his plans go," I continued, "at some point he intends on kidnapping Dinah Alcott, from here in Brockton Bay, who could be considered one of the world's most powerful precogs. Beyond her day-to-day synergy with Coil's powers, she'd even be able to predict Endbringer attacks with the right sort of indirect questions."

Both the Director and Armsmaster began to immediately speak, with the former winning after a glare was levelled at the Tinker.

"When is that expected?" She asked.

I pulled up my Inventory screen again, staring at the date in doubt. Eventually, I offered the uncertain, "Days? Weeks? I'm not solid on the timing, sorry. It was meant to happen while the Undersiders did a bank robbery, but could also happen during any moments of opportunity. Keep in mind that she is likely running herself ragged in a Thinker battle of sorts with him." I dug further into my memories. "He'd also end up recruiting the Travelers, recently from Boston, if they end up coming here - accompanied by an unstable S-class secret companion of their own. Trainwreck of the Merchants, as well as a movement-based, Ward-aged Tinker that would go by Chariot, and the local thief, Circus. And all the Undersiders, of course."

The space after my lengthy release was filled by Director Piggot, asking, "What can you tell us about the S-class threat?"

I skipped over any idea of rephrasing how Noelle gained her powers, instead replying with, "half-woman, half Chimera-like beast. Apart from high Brute levels of strength and durability, she has the ability - and almost nearly mindless compulsion - to pull in any person she touches into her own body, and automatically release multiple twisted, 'evil clone' variants of them. If she were to take in a parahuman, however, the clones she creates often have variably different powers."

"… how can this possibly not have been found out already?" The Director asked, voice strained.

I gave a half-shrug. "Her existence is practically the core reason of the Travelers. The amount of meat she eats destroys whatever money they make, while side-effects of any cloned 'accidents' prompt their hopping from one location to the next. They have a faint hope that some healer or method may be able to treat their companion, but…" I grimaced. "Even with all I read, I don't know of any fool-proof method. In that way, she's more like a Case 53 or Endbringer than a conventionally diseased person."

"Armsmaster -"

"I'll prepare contingency plans, Director," he said, correctly guessing her request if her satisfied nod was anything to go by.

"Dragon next, or…?" I glanced at Director Piggot, but she waved off the question.

"Yes. Please." Audible restraint was in the Tinker's voice.

"For her," I began, already knowing that I'd likely trip up in the form of at least partial lies, starting with a disclaimer, "in order to not compromise her deeply personal living arrangements, some of my answers will need to be much more roundabout than usual."

"Understood."

"Alright," I continued, "she has what can be considered a non-removable cybernetic implant with remote access enabled. Through it, a third party can influence her, perceive what she does, as well as implement a kill-switch. The Dragonslayers are this third party, and use their access to regularly out-think her and obtain her Tinker-tech. Unfortunately, this cybernetic implant, as well as the standalone access system, are constantly reaffirming absolute blind-spots. However, it gets even worse, as Saint is indirectly controlled by Teacher through the need to 'understand' what the implant sends, and they have been using access to Dragon's systems to communicate even while he is in the Birdcage."

Metal audibly creaked in the vicinity of Armsmaster's hands, while the Director appeared to be paying close attention.

"What else?" The Tinker asked.

"Dragon has other internal fail-safes leading to either suicide or all-out unrestricted warfare."

"What are those triggers?"

I shrugged, speaking, "Cybernetic in nature is the closest I'll say. More privacy issues. I'll just warn you to please do not follow these lines of inquiry directly towards her or possible cybernetic modifications. I've never met the Tinker, but she remains one of my most respected persons from Earth Bet."

"Earth Bet… are you from an alternate Earth?" The Director asked.

"Um." 'Shit!' I hid my inner panic with a thin-lipped smile. "I will say that I don't have a legal identity or any history here, so… make of that what you will. It'd be nice if I could class myself as a Case 53, but memories plus the lack of a certain tattoo would prevent that." I let out an uncomfortable breath. "I'd prefer that any such… baseless speculation… is kept far from filed paperwork, though."

"That's not a problem," the Director said, not at all concerned. "I have some discretion in how newly triggered parahumans are handled, and a thin veneer of official paperwork is manageable. Others will still likely pry, trying to find something that… doesn't exist?" A thick eyebrow rose.

"Indeed," I replied, continuing, "thank you, Director." I gave her a nod of appreciation, but didn't bother to correct the assumptions about my newly 'triggered' status. What I've gone through was close enough.

"How much of a risk is it to have her further involved in assessing and fixing whatever holes our security system has?" Armsmaster said.

I replied with another shrug, then added, "You'd have to answer that yourself - just picture her with someone looking over her shoulder, knowing everything she does and thinks."

We then went exhaustively over the other details in my earlier letter, point by point. While the majority I had already covered, needing little else, some things I elaborated on further. That included the infamous Taylor-bullying 'Trio' of which Shadow Stalker belonged to, as well as biographical insights into the Undersiders' roster. New facts included how Lung had recruited a bomb Tinker who'd not only surgically implant her devices, but build a multi-state blasting EMP super-bomb, and hints as to how useful a friendly, near-infinite multitasking insect Master could be.

We ended things with me warning them again about securing this new intelligence against overt sudden and remote access actions, along with Tattletale-intuited methods.

However, rather than the expected immediate dismissal from the Tinker's lab, I was handed a small stack of clearly boiler-plate non-disclosure forms.

I worked on them while seated in a far corner, hidden away from the two organizational heads by the combination of a simple privacy curtain and the loud buzz of a white noise generator. While the promised consequences in the forms were drastic, I had no planned interest in revealing the PRT's or Protectorate's secrets - new ones, or those I already knew.

Their discussion paused when I emerged, with the only difference being two items on the otherwise plain table they sat at. When I passed Director Piggot the signed forms, Armsmaster pushed the pair towards me, and I took a closer look.

The more obvious of them was a brand name-labeled scientific calculator, while the second appeared to be only a blank smart-phone-style screen. No buttons or any other details were visible on the more hi-tech of the two.

"… yes?" I said, indicating the items.

"I'd like to see what your power reads these as," Armsmaster said, also gesturing towards them, "and to see if you can 'install' them, and what changes occur."

"Huh," I replied, blinking, then reached towards them in agreement. An intention-filled tap sent each towards my Inventory, which I then pulled up, and examined the two new filled squares.

The calculator was labelled as such, with an expected 'install' option and the familiar '(stable)' label. The other had no name beyond the title of 'Tinker-tech,' but came with the first appearance of a different label: '(mildly unstable).'

Interested myself, I 'installed' the calculator. Immediately, a new tiny icon of mathematical symbols appeared on the bottom edge of my Inventory.

A finger-poke later, I started to play with my very own floating calculator interface.

"… Blackbox?"

"Ah?!" I stopped my latest equation to return my attention to Armsmaster, dismissing my interface. "Yes?"

"What happened?"

"Oh. Ah." I cleared my throat, mildly embarrassed. "The calculator installed fine - I was just testing it out now - but the Tinker-tech device didn't even have that option. Additionally, a new label appeared: 'mildly unstable.' Likely to do with how Tinker-tech needs regular maintenance?"

He replied with an affirmative grunt.

"… did you want the other piece back?"

"No," he replied, after a moment of consideration. "It's just a touch-screen based calculator I've yet to pull apart for parts. I've already installed better." He gestured towards his helmet.

"Gotcha," I said, hurriedly adding, "thanks." I panned over the pair, asking, "Was there anything else?"

There wasn't, and I soon left the room in the company of yet another armoured PRT officer.

Chapter 2 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 2 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: wrist-watch light).

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

- Wrist-watch.

- Scientific calculator.

Inventory - Screens:

- Composed of a large rectangle.

- Left square: posed paper-doll self with worn items.

- Right square: grid of items (black with white lines).

Inventory - Bottom Bar:

- "Volume 1%" in the middle.

- 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' (date and time) between volume amount and settings gear.

- Calculator icon to the left of the settings gear icon.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

Notable Inventory contents:

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Touch-screen-based Tinker-tech calculator.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Armsmaster (Tinker, Protectorate)

- Gallant (Ward)

A/N: Three chapters completed. Next one coming in tomorrow, and will keep on releasing them until my backlog is empty. Enjoy!

3 - Experimental Insights

A/N: the love-to-hate 'power testing' chapter. While stream-lined as much as possible, any/all feedback welcomed. Enjoy!

3 - Experimental Insights

[April 1st, 2011 - Late Evening]

Something may have been told to my PRT escort by Director Piggot, as they were significantly less stiffly formal than my previous accompaniments. Our walk away from Armsmaster's Tinker lab was done at a sedate pace, with the trooper pointing out different rooms and commenting about access and security rights.

Outside a set of double swinging doors clearly labelled as the cafeteria, he - I was pretty confident in that guess - stopped to ask me a question.

"Did you want to get something to eat?"

I thought for a moment, considering the sandwich and juice I had earlier, then spoke, "Sure!"

"Okay," he said, waving towards the doors. "Just mention your cape name, and you should be good for standard meals on credit."

I hummed in approval, getting an amused snort in return, and pushed through the double swinging doors.

The cafeteria reminded me most of a high-school's, with a far set of glass-screened counters and cashier stations, along with rows and rows of tables. While I guessed that Brockton Bay's PRT was a twenty-four hour operation, the somewhat late evening hour meant that barely a quarter of the seats were filled. Those seated tended to be in tiny clumps of three or four, with the odd loner.

One such was a costumed hero, dressed in a vaguely Roman-soldier-esque costume.

I wracked my mind to guess his identity while heading towards the far counters, finally coming up with a reasonable guess: Dauntless.

As there was no line-up, I did a quick check at the single working cashier to verify that I did, in fact, have credit for food here. That issue settled, I went back to the far start, and began to pick out items.

While I worked through the half-decent selection, I began to recall what points stood out about Dauntless. That consisted of the mostly one-sided conflict Armsmaster brought towards him, along with a number of interpersonal pressures based on how powerful his slow, charge-based pseudo-item-enchantment abilities worked. There was also some family drama, and his canon fate of being trapped in a time-stop bomb blast while battling Leviathan - which ending up broken second triggering him into one of the 'Endbringers' of Ward, a Titan.

His less than cheerful fate coloured my initial excitement in meeting him, though I did my best to hide such as I brought my loaded tray his way.

"Hello? Dauntless?"

The open vertical wedge of his Greek - or Roman, I honesty couldn't say either for sure - style helmet turned my way. "Yes?"

"Is it alright if I join you?"

"Go ahead."

With nobody even a double table-length from us, I grabbed a seat diagonally opposite him, and put my tray down. A simple, if dense, meal of some sauce-covered grilled chicken breasts, steamed vegetables, and rice, let out small wisps of steam as I stared at it in silence.

"Saying grace?" The hero asked.

"No," I replied, finally picking up my cutlery, "its just been a very long day. I don't know if I want to stop and think, or never stop and never think."

He offered a thoughtful murmur, then had a bite of his own meal. "How about something in between, then?"

"Yeah," I said, after a forkful of my own. "Maybe."

My original conversational opener about how come he was eating at the PRT building instead of the Protectorate didn't seem appropriate. Instead, we continued eating in that silent state until both our meals were almost done.

"I take it you're new?" Dauntless asked, waving his fork over my non-costume of a white domino mask and PRT-branded clothing.

"Yeppers," I replied, thankful for the redirection. "I'm going by Blackbox. I hope to gain affiliate hero status or something, but the only paperwork I've signed so far is some NDAs." I shrugged. "Power testing is in the works too, but I've yet to get a firm idea of when that'd be. Zero training, too, if that matters."

"Hmm, okay," he responded, then had some more food off his plate. "What do you do, anyways?"

I spent nearly the rest of our shared meals describing what I knew about my powers so far, along with how both Gallant and Armsmaster had entered my 'Blackbox-space' with no problems. I think I was trying to subtly use the conflict between Dauntless and the Tinker to encourage the item-charger to follow in his footsteps, but didn't come out and bluntly say so. There was no real reason to, apart from wanting to show off a little.

Instead, he rolled his themed armour-hidden shoulders, pushed his empty tray further onto the table, and asked the question first.

"So," he drawled out, most of a smile visible, "how about checking out your Blackbox, Blackbox?"

I groaned through my teeth. I really needed some naming alternates, otherwise I'd be setting myself up to be the butt of jokes for all time. This was Dauntless, for crying out loud! Imagine how bad it'd be with Assault or Clockblocker!

Regardless of my own obvious embarrassment or hidden excitement, I agreed, and he held out a newly re-armoured fist.

"Ready when you are," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," I replied, willing him into my Inventory with a touch against his hand.

I sent myself after him with a thought, then looked around the empty, dim green-lit familiar space.

There was no trace of him.

What?

Oh, shit!

I frantically pulled up my Inventory screen, and willed his figure out in front of me.

Preceding any reaction on his part, I all but threw myself at the floor and began a constant litany of apologies. That his gasps soon turned to an unheard normal pace of breathing didn't help.

Only when I was drowning in the abyss of how badly I utterly just screwed up, did a shoulder pat cut me off.

"First day, right?"

"… Yeah."

"Fine." A loud sigh. "Don't worry about it."

I rocked back into a more comfortable seating position, and took a look at the hero. He appeared more concerned than angry.

"Thanks," I said, calming down.

He joined me on the featureless ground, then asked his own question. "How about you tell me what just happened?"

We spent a few minutes where I went over the differences between my grid-based Inventory and the empty 'free space' that this space signified, along with own first breathless, terror-filled moments. By the end of that time, it seemed like Dauntless had a good understanding of what happened, and chalked my actions up to a mindless mistake.

Afterwards, we left my 'Blackbox' and somewhat awkwardly parted. I trashed what small leftovers I had remaining, not in the mood to eat, and patiently waited by the exit for a leaving PRT officer to act as my in-building escort.

Back in my assigned secure suite, the first difference I noticed was that my door wasn't locked by default. I now had the ability to control it myself, from the main touch-screen interface. Unfortunately, I still didn't have my own access fob or key card. On top of that, I didn't know how long I'd be in these particular rooms, and the idea of a purely electronic locking system didn't set well with me.

Normally, I'd be filling my dead hours with time on a computer. Either the odd bit of gaming, or some reading, writing, or news browsing. As is, I didn't have anything set up like that here.

'No PHO for me!' I thought, amused at the cliché. 'At least not yet.'

Resigned to having nothing to do for the night, I resolved to do my best to sleep the time away to restore my schedule to something approaching normality. Barely a minute was required for me to gather up most of the blocky metal furniture, which I used as an impromptu door stopper inside the bedroom.

The night's hours were then filled with uncomfortable dreams and restless sleep.

At least I remembered to remove my domino mask first.

- [+] -

My final waking was done by the same ringing tones and lights that had roused me yesterday evening.

While I put on my boots, a glance at my Inventory screen showed the new date as April 2nd, at 10:14 AM.

The furniture blockade of my door delayed me only a moment, due more to my sleepy confusion than any slowness in sending the items to my Inventory.

At the touchscreen by the door, my prodding revealed a blinking iconic telephone symbol rather than the expected message.

"Blackbox?"

"Yes? Hello?"

"We've arranged a ride for you to go to the Protectorate Rig for power testing."

"Yes!" A forced cough reduced my enthusiasm to normal levels. "How much time do I have?"

"About an hour," the voice replied. "More accurately, we'd like to pick you up in about forty, forty-five minutes, head to the garage, then leave."

"Ah," I said. "I see." I was already planning my rushed preparation for the time I had. "Should I just wait here, or…?"

"Someone will stop by your room at that time, yes."

"Great, thanks."

The call disconnected, and I immediately browsed to the cafeteria's options. A quick look-over had me pick a yogourt parfait, loaded with granola and some fruits, which I requested for a short time later.

A moderately hot shower went by swiftly, along with dressing in a new set of PRT clothes, and a perfect, clean shave-like effect was obtained by a careful application of my Inventory-sending touch.

By the time my expected escort arrived, the small yogourt dish had come and been eaten with a number of minutes to spare.

My black-armoured minder was the usual silent type, though he - again, a guess - kept on glancing at me while I matched his pace.

Before long, we ended up in the garage, and hopped into a black, single purple-striped PRT-branded van that matched the one that brought me to this building in the first place.

Another trooper was already inside the vehicle, who gave us both a nod in greeting, but said nothing else. As I didn't want to be too disruptive, I again sat on one of the wall-mounted seats closest to the rear doors.

During the windowless ride, I loosely kept my attention on the pair seated further in. While I couldn't hear what they were saying, as they kept relatively quiet, their animated movements proved that some sort of discussion was taking place.

The ride ended with my curiosity unsated.

- [+] -

The wave-borne sounds of the Brockton Bay were muffled to inaudibility at this level of the Rig.

I had been 'let loose' by my building-specific PRT escort at the last intersection, with further brief directions and the caveat that "Everything else is locked, anyways."

My knock announced my presence at the door of name-plate labelled 'Testing Lab #2,' and the dampened patter of foot-steps approached from behind the otherwise plain metal door.

"Come in, come in!" The entreaty was spoken by an East Asian woman of indeterminable middle age, figure hidden by her white lab coat. "Everything is ready, so…"

She took in the sight of her grey-haired colleague, focused on their phone, and stamped a hard heel against the ground. "Alfred!"

"What?" He looked over at the pair of us. "Oh, right." Alfred casually slid the phone into the front pocket of his own lengthy white lab coat, and walked over.

"Blackbox? Hello," he stuck out a hand my way, which I shook, before continuing, "I'm Dr. Alfred Lien, and…"

"Dr. Yin Jeong." I shook her offered hand as well, then followed their directions to a normal-looking office chair.

The pair then sat at their own similar seats, each taking up a paper-filled clipboard from a nearby desk in the process.

"You present an interesting opportunity, Blackbox," Alfred began.

"Okay…?"

"Not in the powers sense, I mean," he continued, gesturing with his free hand, "there are a decent amount of extra-dimensional storage based parahumans, each with their own peculiarities." His middle-aged face, somewhat marred by the course of years and the glasses that dwarfed his eyes, flashed me a large smile. "What I'm talking about is records… and paperwork."

Dr. Jeong let out a little cheer, fist pumping the air.

"Exactly!" His smile returned for the other doctor, then he glanced down at his clipboard. "Given your ability to install items, we've decided that it'd makes sense to see if a number of different devices - sensors and measurement-based included - could follow the same process." He paused, placing the clipboard on his lap. "It helps that everything we'd use this way gets classified as a pre-approved internal expense, and part of your overall power testing. Regardless, we'd still need your stated approval."

"Sure?" My subdued agreement was coloured with the thoughts that maybe my talks with Director Piggot had already gained me some benefits. I think getting a professional power evaluation booked in under a day was also a record of its own.

"Excellent!"

"Let's start, then…" Alfred took the top-most box from a stack that branched out to cover three of the four walls. A quick opening of the cardboard revealed an old-fashioned radio, which he offered to me.

An intention-filled tap sent it to my just-opened Inventory screen, with the item details blue box of 'Analog radio (stable)' including a tempting 'install' option which I didn't resist using.

An apparently endless stream of devices then began flowing my way, offered by the alternating pair of lab-coated professionals. The objects differed in appearance from well-worn to nearly new; from intact to broken; and hand-held to near-impossible to move. Some of them were rejected, ending back up in their original boxes, while the installed picks' cardboard was kept with me for later disposal.

At some point we shifted rooms, including a trip to the staff garage and boat dock, but ended back in the significantly emptier same room. Comments about my surprise at being given access to their official vehicles was offset by the fact that I wouldn't have been allowed to 'install' them, but merely tested to see if I could. None of us mentioned the near-constant presence of at least one or two armoured PRT troopers during our wanderings, apart from the cursory nod or wave we gave them.

Some of the conclusions the pair were able to draw were easy to summarize, such as what defined items that I couldn't install.

BLACKBOX - CAN'T INSTALL LIST - 02-04-2011

- ANY items not thematic/applicable to the 'Inventory' concept.

- ANY item that can't fit completely inside the Inventory; an item that would be larger than the remaining free space.

- Tinker-tech (all); includes normal technology that incorporates Tinker-tech components.

- Identical duplicate items (any).

- Similar items of measurable lesser technological development.

- Broken or damaged items (all).

- Food processing/kitchen electronics.

- Vehicles: personal, passenger-based, etc. Drive-able equipment (e.g. construction, farming, mining).

- Tools: powered and manually operated tools.

- Weapons: mechanical (e.g. crossbow), electrical (e.g. taser), mundane (e.g. knives), chemical (e.g. lighter); firearms.

- Cables and wiring: (e.g. electrical cords, fibre-optic cables, etc)

- Basic/fuel dependent engines: steam engine, jet/rocket engine, internal combustion engine, portable electric generator.

- Personal care: electric toothbrush, electric massager/vibrator, electric razor, etc.

- Robots: drones, androids, etc.

- Wearable/worn technology: space-suit, pressure/diving suit, clothing, etc.

- MISC: electric fan, solar panels, furniture.

If I had to reduce the rejections down to their simplest point, it would be that I couldn't 'install' anything that wouldn't make sense for an 'absolutely broken Inventory system' to have. That definition included the interface itself, along with the handling of items, and the peculiarities of my 'empty' Inventory space room.

Their basic summaries of my prior and newly installed devices made for light reading while I attempted to re-organize the mess my main Inventory screen had become.

INSTALLED PRIOR - 02-04-2011

- wrist-watch (on 01-04-2011)

- scientific calculator (on 01-04-2011)

INSTALLED ON EXPERIMENT DAY - 02-04-2011

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

To make things a little easier for all of us, I made my Inventory screen visible for the two power testers. That was done by adjusting the new, aptly named 'Visibility Slider/Toggle,' which I placed in the lower left corner of my interface. Rather than effect how I saw the screen, it affected how easily others could.

"Curious," Alfred said, as the screen seemed to gain an imperceptible sense of substance. "Before seeing it for myself, I assumed your interface was a complimentary Thinker power. I'll need to revise…" His words trailed off as he began writing something down, before becoming audible again. "Don't stop on my account."

Dr. Jeong had already finished whatever notes she had been working on, so she shuffled herself forward on her wheeled chair to get a closer look. Her experimentally questing finger-tip went through my interface, with the only feedback gained being a sense of disquiet more imagined than real. If I had to describe it, the sensation would be like having someone stand just a hair too close for comfort.

More notes were scribbled after her attempt, and I began to mentally 'drag and drop' the representational icons on the crowded lower edge of my Inventory screen.

- [+] -

The final appearance matched the interim report Dr. Jeong had composed.

BLACKBOX - INVENTORY INTERFACE - 02-04-2011

Left Square:

- Posing Man: middle.

Right Square:

- Settings icon: bottom far right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: middle right.

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left.

"So," Alfred started, flipping through his clipboard, "to reiterate, multiple changes occurred upon your interface either by your direct conscious intent or more nebulous unconscious preferences."

"Yes…?" My agreement came with a brief run through my memories, more specifically how the posed figure had became more paper-doll like, along with the time and date alteration, and how I had transformed it to double as a 'window' to the real world.

"Right," he continued, not looking up from his notes. "Along those lines, Yin had some suggestions as to further alterations."

"Yes, thank you." She beamed at both of us, before rifling through her own work. "How about seeing if you can make a dedicated screen to serve as the 'window' function?"

"Sure, I guess?" My reply drifted into deeper introspection. Her idea had merit, but with the unique challenge of creating something new. All my previous efforts had been the alteration of something that was already present. Regardless of failure or success, I was in the most supporting environment for these kind of discoveries and it'd be worth it to try.

To start with, I focused on one of the many empty black squares in the lower right corner, filling my gaze with the intense thoughts of wanting it - and only it - to be a window towards my empty extra-dimensional space.

Well before my inner mindscape could drift towards another topic, the solid black was replaced with a distinct green.

Murmurs of approval came from my two observers, and I continued, attempting to will the smaller square into something more substantial. Seconds into the effort, the white-edged, green-filled square began to waver, as if under a heat-like haze, then suddenly disappeared.

I blinked, at a loss as to what happened.

"To the left," Dr. Jeong quietly remarked, noting my confusion.

The paper-doll figure of myself had been replaced with a featureless green-filled square, the only additional detail different from its prior, smaller incarnation being a tiny icon on the top right that reminded me of myself.

A mental prod of that new icon changed the green window back to the paper-doll screen, with a square green symbol in its previous location. Repeated mental pokes confirmed that they switched out with each other, with no changes to the bottom edge of my interface or any other problems cropping up.

"That seems to work," I said, pleased and observing similarly happy expressions in the others. "A bit of a power-defined constraint in having only these two 'squares,' but I'm glad to have the flexibility. Were there any other ideas you wanted to test?"

"A fair number," Dr. Jeong replied, again briefly flipping through her notes. "We can now reasonably assume that nearly every aspect of your Inventory interface can be turned into a full screen of its very own." She turned to Alfred, who supported her statement with a relaxed nod, then continued, "You can attempt such modifications in your own time. If you somehow find any exceptions, please make a note of it and let us know. As is, your power is developing rapidly enough that regular updates would make significantly more sense than attempting every possible permutation during a single series of testing. It is closer to a Tinker exploring their specialty than other classifications."

Under her direction, I then methodically explored my new options. Alfred chipped in with his own thoughts at times.

When we finally finished, all of the new icon-based interface features were roughly grouped into four distinct categories. The details were listed on a white-board, as well as my own journal-like 'application.'

BLACKBOX - INVENTORY INTERFACE FEATURES - 02-04-2011

1) Basic/simple: self-explanatory features with no complications. Includes a calculator, extra-dimensional adjustment (lighting, temperature control, air monitoring), audio/video recorder (turned on), writing journal, electric charge listing, and a media viewer/library (with nothing saved/available).

2) Connection-dependent (successful): features that rely on existing wireless communication for operations. Includes a radio, television (local broadcasts only), and a walkie-talkie.

3) Connection-dependent (unsuccessful): features that rely on metered, subscribed, and/or device-assigned access for operations. Includes a phone, fax, e-mail, chat, and web browser.

4) Exotic: features that refuse standard classification. Includes a 'electrical power-bar-like' interface, with multiple connection ports/outlets.

To balance some of the gained complexities I had to deal with, some change during this day of power testing made my whole Inventory interface run smoother. Layered on top of my earlier impromptu practice sessions, my setup felt even more solid and operated seamlessly, easily rivalling various science fiction takes on fancy, holographic or 'hard light' screens. I'd need to get used to running my interface both mentally and as a more tangible touch-screen to get the most out of it.

The last unexplored aspect of my Inventory interface was everything hidden behind the settings icon.

Rather than immediately go to it, as was expected in our step-by-step plans, I hesitated. Or, more accurately, I froze, with the only movements being the anxiety-filled scrunching of my brow. Thoughts about how to explain 'Mage's Private Sanctum' and 'Obscure Object' bubbled up to the forefront of my mind, and none of them looked good.

"Blackbox? Is something the matter?" Dr. Jeong asked, far more attentive than her phone-glued partner.

"Ahh…" I put off words, thinking, finally coming up with something that I hoped would sound reasonable. "Some of my more deeply personal details are behind here."

"More personal than your name?" Alfred asked, peering over his phone to look through his clipboard's papers. "Ozzy Grey was already listed on your 'paper-doll' screen. However, seeing as how you are not officially a Protectorate member, that little detail isn't mandated to be included in our results."

My uneasy grumbles travelled to my stomach, and I went with my gut feelings, shaking my head. "Still."

Alfred's shrug came with his partner speaking, her reassuring voice saying, "Not to worry. We've already obtained a sizable backlog of information. Did you want to move on to another stage of testing?"

"Right, right," I replied, my hesitation wavering. A look at the 'Visibility Slider/Toggle' icon gave me an alternate idea, and I reached out to it. Some minor adjustments, and the sense of presence it had slowly decreased. Going by the squinting faces of my two power testers, my interface screen had successfully disappeared from their sight.

"Let me see what I'm comfortable with sharing," I began, physically tapping on the gear-shaped icon. A familiar sub-menu appeared, a single new line prompting a small moue of surprise.

Settings:

- Inventory Style

- Inventory-wide Effects

- Inventory Settings

- Inventory Upgraders

- Installed Upgrades

I started to go through the entries, getting ready to censor myself.

Inventory Style:

- Paper-doll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window.

Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness.

'Inventory Style' and 'Inventory Settings' didn't need any creative editing, though I did adjust the latter brightness setting to my newer, highest level of illumination. I'd have to test and see if it was too bright the next time I went inside my empty space.

I didn't go over the 'Installed Upgrades' list in much detail, apart from saying that all the items from before and today were in it.

Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

My anti-Master and -Thinker abilities were already on record, so I skipped describing 'Inventory-wide Effects' completely, along with their problematic names.

The best was saved for last.

Inventory Upgraders:

- Power Sets

- Power Sources

Power Sets:

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- [?] Armsmaster: available.

- [?] Dauntless: available.

- [?] Gallant: available.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe. The idle speculation of having an 'absolutely broken Inventory system' and the reality were two vastly different things.

That brief flare of intense excitement was quickly tempered by paranoid fear - perhaps justified, perhaps not - of that while my now rightly assumed potential was great, so too was my current level of overall weakness. Being immune to Thinker and Master powers didn't mean I was immune to pain, let alone more traditional forms of torture or Bonesaw-levels of surgical 'corrections.'

I forced myself to take those breaths, deeper and deeper, robotically assuming a false guise of posed nonchalance, as I panned over my two official power testers.

Truthfully, I knew nothing about them except their names - names that they had given me. For all I knew, Alfred could be texting Coil every time he went on his phone. Yin could be a Changer, or some Master possessed puppet. A hand-swipe through their heads should eliminate those risks, but - my domino mask-framed eyes flicked to the ceiling, the walls - this room was likely under surveillance.

I squashed those murderous impulses.

My mind reached further into the past, my hands twitching with forced inaction, and I contemplated the unheard conversation held between those PRT troopers.

'Were they planning something against me?'

Somebody spoke, but I missed the words.

I took in the white-washed wall, likely metal-clad, and mused about running through it, away from the PRT, and never coming back.

"Blackbox!"

"I…" My voice seized up, and I half-gasped out the next words. "I need some time to myself."

More words ignored, with thoughts bouncing in the confines of my skull. One came free, and I let it loose.

"If you could get Armsmaster? Tell him its important." I mustered the most sincere form of a twisted fake smile that I could manage. "I'll be right here."

I then went back into my 'Blackbox,' with the thought of it being a stupid name for once not at the forefront of my mind.

Instead, it was… ouch. 'Holy shit that's bright!'

Chapter 3 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 3 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- [?] Armsmaster: available.

- [?] Dauntless: available.

- [?] Gallant: available.

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left.

Notable Inventory contents:

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Touch-screen-based Tinker-tech calculator.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: Armsmaster, Dauntless.

- Wards: Gallant.

Chapter 3 - INVENTORY Notes - Supporting Info

Chapter 3 - INVENTORY Notes - Supporting Info

Items that can't be 'installed':

- ANY items not thematic/applicable to the 'Inventory' concept.

- ANY item that can't fit completely inside the Inventory; an item that would be larger than the remaining free space.

- Tinker-tech (all); includes normal technology that incorporates Tinker-tech components.

- Identical duplicate items (any).

- Similar items of measurable lesser technological development.

- Broken or damaged items (all).

- Food processing/kitchen electronics.

- Vehicles: personal, passenger-based, etc. Drive-able equipment (e.g. construction, farming, mining).

- Tools: powered and manually operated tools.

- Weapons: mechanical (e.g. crossbow), electrical (e.g. taser), mundane (e.g. knives), chemical (e.g. lighter); firearms.

- Cables and wiring: (e.g. electrical cords, fiber-optic cables, etc)

- Basic/fuel dependent engines: steam engine, jet/rocket engine, internal combustion engine, portable electric generator.

- Personal care: electric toothbrush, electric massager/vibrator, electric razor, etc.

- Robots: drones, androids, etc.

- Wearable/worn technology: space-suit, pressure/diving suit, clothing, etc.

- MISC: electric fan, solar panels, furniture.

For REFERENCE only:

BLACKBOX - INVENTORY INTERFACE FEATURES - 02-04-2011

1) Basic/simple: self-explanatory features with no complications. Includes a calculator, extra-dimensional adjustment (lighting, temperature control, air monitoring), audio/video recorder (turned on), writing journal, electric charge listing, and a media viewer/library (with nothing saved/available).

2) Connection-dependent (successful): features that rely on existing wireless communication for operations. Includes a radio, television (local broadcasts only), and a walkie-talkie.

3) Connection-dependent (unsuccessful): features that rely on metered, subscribed, and/or device-assigned access for operations. Includes a phone, fax, e-mail, chat, and web browser.

4) Exotic: features that refuse standard classification. Includes a 'electrical power-bar-like' interface, with multiple connection ports/outlets.

A/N: any takers for a catchy name better than 'Blackbox' for Blackbox's/Ozzy Grey's empty section of his extra-dimensional space/Inventory? (One more chapter coming in a day; last one in queue/backlog)

Last edited: Jan 20, 2022

4 - Spilled Words

A/N: Chapter 3 of 3 in backlog.

A/N: Revised version. Edits made 11/30/2021.

4 - Spilled Words

[April 2nd, 2011 - Evening]

Nobody interrupted my panicked moping before the emotions peaked and finally settled into something manageable. During that time, so too were no glimpses of activity viewed through the unmoving window to the outside testing lab beyond the doctors' initial departure.

In my flattened, mentally exhausted state, lying on the black floor of the now comfortably dimly lit Blackbox-space, I considered my next steps.

Sure, I could pop back into the room we had been using for testing and beg the whole outburst off as some reasonable excuse or another. I'd need to cancel my request for Armsmaster, which might necessitate its own set of excuses - regardless of the Tinker showing up or not.

I could also sulk my way into a light snooze, waking up when - or if - something disturbed me.

Or - the more exciting option - I could do my own round of 'testing,' roughly continuing what we were attempting earlier.

I choose the latter, and a few mental taps of my interface brought up the 'Power Sources' window.

Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- [?] Armsmaster: available.

- [?] Dauntless: available.

- [?] Gallant: available.

Cautiously, I extended a finger and tapped the question mark to the left of Armsmaster's name, and another floating window appeared.

Power Source - Parahuman - "Armsmaster"

- Available.

- Current Selection: Off/Disabled/?.

- Options: Permanent Installation, On, Off, Dynamic/As Needed.

No other details were present. More cautious poking at some of the 'safer' looking text, such as 'available' and 'off,' failed to reveal anything further. However, my own canonical knowledge of what parahumans are - meaning, someone connected to an alternate universe 'shard' through an anomalous brain structure - was enough to form up some educated guesses.

'Available' most likely implied that the parahuman involved was alive. I'd verify that if - or when, knowing the brutal tendencies of conflict-filled super-heroing - someone died. The pragmatic thought that came with that was that I'd lose access to those sources if my 'donors' died. The more generous interpretation was that the shard - passenger, agent, whatever - was alive, but I'd rather not assume that particular meaning at this moment.

As for options, the 'Permanent Installation' was the most ominous: it suggested an irreversible change to my grey matter, the Inventory interface, or both. Thankfully, the text disappeared under my suspicious glare, slowly fading until the other words shifted as to imply they never existed in the first place.

Marginally more relaxed, I considered the remaining three. 'On' implied an ever-present, power-tapping connection to its respective shard, 'off' disabled such, and the 'dynamic' option would likely only enable the connection as needed.

Apart from the head-in-the-mud safety 'off' represented, my only real choices were the last two. However, I had no way of knowing in advance how their activated presence would react to the more Trump-like powers of others, such as Jack Slash's subtle shard-based Thinker/Master effects, or whatever bullshit powers Scion had in reserve. There was also the possibility of my constantly tapping a connection could somehow weaken their respective parahuman, like what happens in certain cluster-trigger cases, but clone-type Master powers and more conventionally produced clones made such a guess rather iffy. There was also the other risks of cluster capes, the 'kiss-kill' mental influences, which an always 'on' connection might trigger.

Mind set, I quickly choose the 'Dynamic/As Needed' option for all three.

More finger taps brought me to the other new window.

Power Sets:

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Exploratory prodding of the different power set options revealed a single, solitary choice:

Install: Y/N?

Not seeing any blatantly obvious negatives for the available powers, I impulsively 'installed' all six. Following that, a perusal through the main settings menu revealed the changed sub-menus.

Installed Upgrades:

- Technological

- Parahuman

- Power Sources

The 'technological' category detailed all the many items I had already installed, and nothing else. 'Power Sources' was an identical duplicate of the same screen from 'Inventory Upgraders,' and the 'Parahuman' screen sorted the already installed powers into a cleaner, more organized format.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Unlike the 'Power Sources' screen, no amount of prodding, mental or physical, revealed anything like an uninstall option. I'd better be absolutely certain of everything I did that with.

There was still a rather substantial amount of things I could test. At the most basic levels, a simple measuring tape could give me the specifications of this empty cubical room, and thereby be used to hint at my total storage capacity. More complicated examinations would involve my application-like icons, and testing each out, as well as seeing how different pieces of tech interacted with my 'installed' technology.

I sighed, stretching, and tried to make myself more comfortable. Mental pokes took me to the barely used journal writing 'application,' and I started to put together a list of plans and ideas.

- [+] -

The final pages were a sprawling mess, detailing everything from plans for myself to over-reaching goals for Earth Bet and the connecting 'multiverse.'

PERSONAL:

- CAPE PERSONA: I need a good costume! Ideally it'd be a full-body one-piece. 'Upgrading' may add polish, therefore skipping the need for a super-fancy suit. (The amount of 'charges' needed to turn a costume into something useful may take a non-trivial amount of time.)

- POWER TESTERS: clear the air and apoligize to the two power testing doctors. See about finishing power testing or submit my own news to them.

- TIME-LINE: get updated about current events; find out where I am in the original/canon (now already ruined?) time-line.

- BULK UP: get something to expand my interior space with. (*The waters of Brockton Bay are likely easiest.) Measure dimensions of my empty space and track how fast it can be grown.

- MEMORY: find ways to get more details from my own crappy memory. Cranial (Toybox) and the Slug (Cauldron). Any others?

- ACCESS PERMISSIONS: service/access accounts/logins/permissions for my radio, walkie-talkie, etc. Likely some problems with having no Tinker-tech able to be installed; do PRT issue equipment without Tinker-tech parts?

POWER TESTING & USE:

- UPGRADE CHARGES: 1/day limit. Only tested with a single piece of Tinker-tech so far. (See if time-accelerated powers can change this limit!)

- TECHNOLOGY: any available items to see what can be done.

- EMOTIONAL PROJECTILES.

- TINKER-TECH.

PARAHUMAN POWERS:

- LISTS: access public databases of capes. Possible sources include cape wikis, PHO listings, official PRT publicity pages, etc.

- INVENTORY: synergy with other extra-dimensional storage/'inventory' capes? Test!

- CRITICALLY wanted powers: copying items. Time acceleration, slowing, stopping. 'Extra lives' and personal cloning. Speed, movement, teleportation, etc. Power-cancelling. (*Assumptions are that they will have great synergy, but even a failed confirmation would help future plans.)

- BRAIN-SCAN: is there a covert/secret way to view a scan of my own brain? Test/verify if I qualify as a regular parahuman or NOT!

- SCREEN OBJECT: it can be made visible to others, but what about making it function as a solid object/shield? What happens if it gets BROKEN?! (e.g. via the Siberian, Fletchette/Foil, March!)

- POWER SOURCES: can there be some that are somehow NOT parahuman-based? Devices to install? Power-CREATED effects?

ITEMS TO ACQUIRE:

- LASER: some sort of offensive grade, non-Tinker-tech laser. Test how installing it and 'brightness' settings may work together.

- FABRICATORS: item fabrication? Need printing supplies/raw materials? Power-based alternatives?

- UPGRADE: find/use/test if 'better' versions of the items I've installed would be useful.

- ALTERNATES: burner phones, SIM cards, MAC addresses/network cards, etc. Viable? Not? Test!

- WEAPONS: some basic, easy to use firearms (or other ranged alternatives). Alternatively: sling-shot, crossbow, mace/chemical spray. (ALTERNATE: see if some upgrades could add to the speed in which items exit my Inventory!)

- VEHICLE: a personal vehicle, such as a small car. It'd function as an alternative to Mover-rated powers (especially if they prove impossible to for myself to use).

- QUALITY OF LIFE: food supplies, couch, bed, rug/carpets, etc. Personal health/care items. Various media.

- POWER-CREATED ITEMS: MM's multi-weapon, D's charge-enhanced equipment, etc. Test how my own power interacts with theirs.

PLANS - LOCAL - Brockton Bay:

- ABB: Lung, Oni Lee, Bakuda.

- Coil

- E88 & Medhall

- Undersiders

- Merchants: did they only get 'big' after Leviathan? See what is known about them.

- New Wave: they are a big mess to defuse. Is it even possible?

- Skitter

- Travelers: when will they arrive in Brockton Bay? When did (or will) they leave Boston?

- Toybox

- Faultline's Crew

PLANS - INTERNATIONAL:

- Dragon & the Dragonslayers

- The Fallen & Mama Mathers

- The Teeth & Butcher

- March

- Machine Army

- Nilbog & Ellisburg

- Slaughterhouse Nine

- (Various other S-class threats and quarantied sites)

PLANS - GLOBAL & BEYOND:

- Cauldron

- Endbringers

- Eidolon

- Scion

One thing that stood out to me was the daily limit of the Dauntless-sourced item enhancement ability. If I didn't use it, I'd be 'losing' out on whatever time the power could be potentially recharging in.

A quick skim through my lack-lustre selection of stored items revealed one choice that stood out over the rest: the Tinker-tech calculator Armsmaster had given me.

Repeatedly prodding the device in its white-bordered black square, new sub-screens appeared.

Tinker-tech (mildly unstable)

Modify: Upgrade (1/1 daily charges)

None of the general technological modifications even appeared for the touch-screen calculator, suggesting that I'd have to use 'normal' items for that instead.

Another mental poke was used to choose the upgrade, as well as to approve the rare confirmation screen that followed.

The new description had one very important change present.

Tinker-tech (stable)

'Stable' suggested, at best, the complete absence of unnatural Tinker-tech device decay. The worse case was that such a modification was temporary or conditional. I'd have to pass it back to Armsmaster before making any assumptions, including what multiple charges could due to Tinker-tech, as well as if the same results would occur with other items.

Further musing was interrupted by activity viewed through my window, followed by the sight-obscuring glare of lights flashing back and forth.

I quickly got myself up off the ground, briefly stretching, before willing myself back into the testing room.

The squint-inducing light was cut off before I could shield my eyes, with my blinks revealing the blue and white armoured figure of Armsmaster.

"Blackbox. You made an unusual end to your power testing session," he began, "as well as requesting myself. Are those issues connected?"

"Armsmaster… hello. Thanks for coming." A throat-clearing cough helped, then I continued with, "To answer your question - yes, though the details are… private." I extended a hand his way, the invitation obvious.

With an inquisitive grunt, he reached out with a gauntleted hand, and I carefully tapped him into the empty space of my Inventory.

A thought had me follow after him, where I was surprised to see him already holding two items: a thin stack of papers, and what looked like a travel-safe container of a yogourt parfait, similar to the one I ordered from the cafeteria earlier.

"These are yours," he said, near instantly facing where I appeared, arms straightening in my direction.

"O… kay?" I tap to each sent them to new Inventory squares. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome." He gestured towards me. "Those were the current draft of your contract, and the snack matches a previous order on record. You weren't noted as having stored food items, and your last meal was several hours ago."

I shook my head. "Ah… okay," I said, with my thoughts continuing silently, 'aren't you supposed to be a colossal asshole? What the hell is all this about?!' My inner mental world was crashing into conflicting memories of canon and fanon interpretations of the bearded Tinker.

"So what was important enough to end your testing early?"

"Ah… right." I cleared my throat, then pulled up my Inventory interface. A few finger-taps brought up the screen I wanted to show him, then I adjusted the visibility for such to happen.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

"Armsmaster. Dauntless. Gallant," I said, matching my words with sharp gestures towards the display.

He stepped closer to the screen, crossing his arms, making no further actions apart from minor movements of his helmeted head.

"You're a power copying Trump?"

"Ehh…" I tilted my head back and forth. "Sort of? Did you get to see the 'can't install' list the power testers made?"

"Yes," he replied, nodding.

"The same idea here, then," I continued, waving towards the screen. "The power 'copying' is all done through the lens of an 'inventory system.'"

He made another inquisitive grunt, whatever further expressions he had present hidden under his half-face helmet.

"Oh, right…" A half-remembered thought bubbled into consciousness, and I scanned over the main item grid of my Inventory. The upgraded Tinker-tech calculator was willed into my hands as soon as I found it. "Here you go!"

"You are returning this why…?"

In answer, I again pointed to the Dauntless-sourced ability on the 'Installed Upgrades' screen. "It worked with your Tinker-tech. I thought it'd make sense for you to test how - or if - it has changed, and if those upgrades would be worth trying on other Tinker-tech."

He nodded, replying, "Understandable." A side panel on his thigh silently popped open, and he slid the small device into the space. It closed equally smoothly. "Was there anything else?"

I finger stabbed in the direction of the still-present screen again in answer.

"Why don't you explain it."

A half-irritated sigh preceded my words. "Given that my only known restriction on copying powers is that they are vaguely related to the concept of 'Inventory,' what happens when that list gets longer than the list of installed technology? When others find out about what I can do?"

"You're saying that you're too valuable."

"Exactly!" I mentally reached for something that would better resonate with him. "Imagine a Tinker without tools, equipment, or power armour. What are their normal fates?"

A frown settled behind his beard, before smoothing out into casual indifference. "Being an affiliate hero may not offer you enough protection, then."

"And neither would being locked behind the most secure vaults of the PRT, guarded twenty-four-seven by teams of capes," I replied, shaking my head. "Massive potential and massive weakness are too tempting. Would you say that my presence couldn't invite a Slaughterhouse Nine or Endbringer 'intervention?' A Yàngbǎn retrieval in force?"

Silence, then, "What would you propose?"

I shrugged. "The only obvious choice - become too powerful for anybody to consider doing such. Demonstrate that publicly and clandestinely."

"That's doable," he replied, "eventually. Why are you telling me this?"

I rose an eyebrow, annoyingly hidden under my domino mask. "Enlightened self-interest?" I waved towards the still-present screen. "If you can't see 'win-win' out of that, I don't know what can."

"I have my own plans," he said. "Your previously supplied intelligence is already cutting too much into them."

'All right,' I thought, somehow relieved that the Tinker wasn't too unnaturally accommodating. I dismissed my Inventory displays. "Well…" I dug into what I remembered of him. "You can put your nano-thorn and combat prediction projects off the priority list. They won't work with Endbringers in the way you expect them to."

Following a microscopic bout of hesitation, Armsmaster spoke with a degree of cautious apprehension that hadn't been present before. "What do you know about… me?"

It figures that the Tinker went to himself rather than questions about the Endbringers.

"Too much," I replied. "Your full name is the least of it."

A pair of armoured arms crossed over his chest. "You shared a lot before. What makes you hesitate now?"

"You, Armsmaster," I began, trying to get a sense of the man. "Not all of it is good, you understand? I mean… I know about your lie detector, and it makes dropping metaphorical 'bombshells' easier, but… I can still truthfully say that this world would be better off if you went and got some serious therapy. Really."

"Noted." His fingers flexed over the metal of his biceps. "I'd still like to hear - hear what is safe to share."

"Great! I mean to… ah…" I stopped myself from stumbling over my words about being glad that he wasn't already pissed off. "There is good news and bad, so…?"

"The good."

"Okay…" I stared off to the side, the glow of my screens and the edge of the Tinker's armour barely in my vision. "Good news. You eventually marry Dragon, and become the ultimate power Tinker hero couple. Bonds forged through fire and all that. You'd also be a foundational member of an extremely well-equipped team thanks to your own efforts, and personally create at least two items that would be used by a person that saves… multiple worlds."

"… that's it?"

"For the 'good' news, yeah."

"The 'bad,' then."

I debated whether to ask him if he was really sure, but he'd already made his stance clear.

"So." I reoriented my gaze to his armoured boots, half-way embarrassed already. "You purposely break the Endbringer truce, multiple times, leading to the deaths of others and a failed duel with one of those creatures. You betray the trust and confidence of an aspiring hero easily and casually, near perfectly ruining an otherwise idolized reputation of the Protectorate. Your thirst for glory was - is? - so strong that'd you'd willingly work under a PRT Director Thomas Calvert - known to be Coil - as long as he gave you the opportunities you craved so badly." I took a deep breath. "Your personality was so ingrained, so utterly crystallized into glory seeking, that it took literal torture and multi-limb maiming at the hands of Mannequin before a touch of humility started to emerge."

"… that's not me."

"What does your lie detector say to that?"

No response.

"I'll add that it took your life-altering humbling before you got together with Dragon." I let myself have a sad, faint smile. "That might not happen now, eh?"

"That's enough." An audible undercurrent of anger rode his words.

"Yeah." I glanced at his stony expression. "I guess everybody has their own limits of sorts." I readied myself to send him back out. "Thanks for bringing the contract and all."

"Mmm-hmm."

A tap sent him back to the power testing room, and I let myself slide to the ground.

Rather than relax completely, I sat cross-legged, and pulled back up my Inventory grid. After a brief search, I found and took out the parfait.

The warm yogourt wasn't the greatest, but I ate it anyways.

A/N EDIT 11/30/2021 regarding Armsmaster, after reading his pre-Defiant dialogue in Worm. Slightly warmer, with more emotion.

A/N: Last back-logged chapter. Next batch planned for the 1st of next month, with the same spread out release intended. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 4 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- No un-used power sets available.

Installed Power Sets:

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- All currently available installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Power Sources

-[3/3; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available] Armsmaster, Dauntless, Gallant.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left.

Notable Inventory contents:

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A contract draft between Blackbox and the PRT.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: Armsmaster, Dauntless.

- Wards: Gallant.

Worm canon details about Armsmaster by Wildbow

Worm quotes and WoG repository

An alternate future, according to Wildbow:

"Coil develops a cure for Echidna, and… no, I'm just kidding. When everything is lined up and the PRT is strained to breaking, Coil engineers for hired mercenary capes to attack his own complex and free her, leaving Coil 'injured' and out of the picture while everything else unfolds. Echidna attacks the city, people band together to fight her, and it serves much the same role as Leviathan did, but it's controlled destruction, engineered by Coil. In the aftermath, Piggot is accused of failing in her duties, and Calvert takes over a relatively strong PRT Department. Brockton Bay stabilizes, flourishing in cape population, and the rogue elements are systematically stamped out. Calvert manages both the city and the Protectorate. He controls Armsmaster, who controls an enslaved Dragon, because this Armsmaster never found the humility, nor did he face his inhumanity. Armsmaster heard enough through Piggot to know what's really going on, but is willing to work with Coil, because Coil put him on the world stage."

Last edited: Jan 20, 2022

5 - Attentive Children

5 - Attentive Children

[April 2nd, 2011 - Late Evening]

My own irritation lasted only as long as my stomach kept on churning. They settled about the same time, and I left my empty Blackbox-space.

I was greeted by the silence of my earlier power testing room. The bare metal walls were more exposed in the absence of the earlier filled boxes, with only a solitary ruggedized desk and a few wheeled white-board stands contrasting with the dull practicality.

A wave preceded my attempt to flag down any silent watchers.

"Uh… hey!"

No immediate alarm followed my words.

"I'll try to find somebody to lead me to the exit, okay?"

While I wasn't looking forward to playing the bumbling tourist role, as long as I kept from being too intrusive or disruptive I didn't think I'd get in trouble.

Mind set, I tried the door.

Locked.

'Ah. Maybe not.'

My new plan was to really hope that there were cameras in here, and I began to act like a harried, over-dramatic prisoner.

In less than five minutes, a PRT trooper opened the single door and spotted myself mid-jumping jack. Regardless of their impersonal black helmet, I didn't get a sense of being impressed.

"Hello?"

"Come with me, please." They turned around, stepping out of sight of the doorway. "If Armsmaster hadn't told us to monitor this room, we'd have missed you."

'I guess he wasn't too pissed off, then?' I thought, following after the black armoured figure.

The only conversation I attempted on our walk was to ask if other Protectorate members were on the Rig. As the only hero present was Armsmaster in his personal lab, I opted to leave him alone.

After a number of hallways and a single elevator ride, we ended up in some sort of small seating lounge. The background murmurs of the Brockton Bay were audible at this level, far lower than where I had spent so much time earlier.

"Staff get rotated out of here pretty regularly," my escort said, indicating the room. "If you wait long enough, you should be able to get a ride back to the PRT's HQ."

"Alright, thanks."

They left with a nod of acknowledgement, leaving me to pick one of the many empty seats. I ended up choosing a corner spot, giving me a clear oversight over the two other people in the room, a relatively young woman and an older gentleman. They both were wearing formal business attire, and had their heads buried in a paperback novel and newspaper, respectively.

Once comfy, I pulled up my Inventory screen - rapidly setting the visibility to nothing, as the curious gazes coming my way were something I preferred to avoid - and casually explored through everything I had available.

In the interests of not disturbing others, my final pick was the stacked papers of the contract draft Armsmaster had given me.

I spent the rest of the my waiting time in silent reading and note-taking, with the only shared disruption to the mood of the room being a young man wearing a janitor's uniform. He joined our small seated crowd, almost immediately playing some sort of noisy hand-held game, but was quickly shushed into using headphones.

We were soon called out of the room by a PRT trooper, and led to the staff garage.

The ride out of the Rig was done in one of the many official PRT vans, the bumps and jostles of our route not evoking the slightest reaction from the other passengers. I instead kept myself in a state of nervous anxiety, continually expecting a sudden attack, ambush, or other form of unexpected violence.

My recollections of Brockton Bay were more focused on the adrenaline-filled moments, and the continual lack of such overt acts had me expecting something more covert and hidden. I kept my trigger figure metaphorically 'on' for sending me into back into my empty space for the duration of our ride, leaving me almost sick at my stomach by our time of our arrival.

The other three passengers sped off to their respective destinations while I loitered at one of the PRT's non-public facing reception desks.

Rather than ask for the escort to my (mostly) secure suite, I instead opted to test my luck.

"Excuse me?"

The light tapping of a keyboard ceased when the receptionist turned to me. "Yes, sir… Blackbox?"

"Yeah…" I cleared my throat, embarrassingly shuffling in place in my half-assed non-costume. "Is there any chance that some of the Wards would be available for a meet and greet?"

"Sorry sir, it is currently outside of regular visiting hours."

"Oh. Right." I sunk in defeat, before a small light-bulb of an idea glimmered. "How about asking Gallant - if he's on site? He took part in my power testing, and I'm still interested in the whole affiliate hero thing… I already signed some NDAs, too."

I let the words hang, giving the middle-aged woman as solid an impression of 'polite young man' I could manage. At least two - one? - out of the three wasn't that bad.

Her disinterested stare turned into a shrug, and she held up a cautionary finger. "Please hold." More keyboard taps. "Gallant is in the building. I'll check with him."

I paced around the small office-like room, keeping my body language as casually relaxed as possible. The sounds of her headset-based phone-call faded into and out of audibility as I moved, at the conclusion of which she flagged my attention.

"Yes?" My optimistic query was asked a hand's pace away from her horse-shoe shaped slab of a desk. "What's the verdict?"

She let out a huff, with only the hints of a smile peeking out behind her conservatively applied makeup. "Please wait. Someone will be here shortly to bring you to the Wards' area."

"Thanks!" I flashed her a smile of my own, exaggerated with a pair of thumbs up, and went to sit in a corner chair with a view of the doors.

This wait was filled with a different kind of jittery anticipation, easily overwhelming the vestiges of my previous stomach upsets.

An unrecognized costumed figure brought an end to my idle speculations, the lion-helmed individual prompting a dig through my memories.

"Triumph…?" I finally guessed, standing and extending a hand as he approached.

"You got it!" He replied, shaking my hand with a few pumps of his lion-claw themed glove. "Blackbox, right?"

"Yep!"

He motioned me to follow, and I did so, only sending a wave to the receptionist before the doorway removed us from her sight.

"What prompted your interest in meeting the Wards?" He asked, his earlier booming voice turned down to a more manageable level.

"Hmm." The answer I did not want to give the hero was very clear, with a maniacally cackling soundtrack accompanying 'to copy all their powers, of course!' Instead, I went with more generically acceptable sound-bites that I had already passed around. The fact that my own 'secure suite' was in this very building was a happy, coincidental fact.

My replies seemed mild enough to not trigger any obvious suspicion, and we soon ended up in front of a reinforced metal door emblazoned with 'WARDS - ENE' on the surface. Some sort of security setup was to the right of it.

Triumph confidently strode to the device, quietly speaking with his helmeted face directly in front of it, and a warning klaxon soon began blaring. A red and white flashing light above the doorway kept time with the discordant sounds, then turned to a green glow and blissful silence.

The door opened by itself, and the hero strode through first, throwing me a "C'mon!" as he passed by.

My first sight of the Wards' common room was a prominently hanging party banner, multi-coloured letters spelling out the words 'Browbeat.' More signs of the Wards' party were present, with small piles of pizza boxes randomly scattered around, along with a selection of coloured balloons hanging down from the ceiling. In deference to this being a parahuman party, a few of the balloons were frozen mid-air, one of them even with a pizza pox draped over it.

Triumph gestured to the box-laden balloon, faux whispering, "I step out of here for five minutes and look what happens!"

"… okay?" I point to the sign. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, don't worry about it," he said, heading over to an empty armchair, before changing direction towards the packed sofas. "It's Browbeat's welcoming party -"

"- as well as Shadow Stalker's 'good riddance' party!" A voice shouted over the background noise of the television and music.

"Let's all be polite in front of the GUEST!" Triumph boomed back, his voice easily overriding all else.

With that explosion, a number of heads turned my way, all but one with their faces hidden by a domino mask. With maybe a second of attention, they dismissed me and turned back to the large television screen that the sofas were angled around.

While I silently observed the noisy multi-player fighting game on the big screen, Triumph went and easily picked up a large armchair and brought it closer to the group. Meanwhile, two figures had stood up from the sofas, moving under the glare of well-intentioned complaints, with the taller of the pair motioning me towards them as they left the barrage of multi-media sounds.

"Hello?" I couldn't get a sense of the two guys' identities without their full costumes. The one that had waved at me wore a dark grey bodysuit, while the other also had a bodysuit, but in red and gold. They were both Caucasian, but the shorter was notably paler.

"Hi again Blackbox, I'm Gallant." He stuck a hand my way, which I shook, vaguely recognizing his shape without the outline of his heavier armour hiding it. "This is Kid Win." He patted the Tinker on the back. "Are you okay with telling him how you discovered you had Master and Thinker immunities?"

Kid Win's head whipped towards the other Ward in surprise, as I considered the question. I had no reasons to not share those details, and I was already guessing where things would lead for the famously 'specialty-blind' Tinker.

Still, I wouldn't want to appear too eager.

A thought pulled up my Inventory interface, with finger taps making the screen visible to the pair.

I waved towards the grid portion on the right, explaining, "This operates like an RPG-style game inventory interface. Anything - including myself - is considered an 'item,' and I can view a very limited selection of details about it. For myself, it was those immunities."

"Could you also check out other capes that way?" Kid Win asked.

I shrugged, replying, "I'd assume so. I don't really have a parade of parahumans going through my personal extra-dimensional space, but Gallant at least has done it."

"Yeah," he replied, adding a shrug of his own, "it wasn't a big deal. Small-ish empty room, where I fired off some emotion blasts."

"Huh." The Tinker crossed his arms, staring off to the side. "Do you think I -"

"Hey Gallant, who's this?" Between one second and the next, Vista popped into view directly beside him.

Gallant took a subtle half step away from the pint-sized heroine before replying. "Blackbox, Vista. Vista, Blackbox. He's here because…?"

Three sets of eyes turned my way. "I've been rooming in this PRT building the last few days. Just recently gained my powers. Thought it'd make sense to check out the neighbours and all…"

"Hmm…" The blonde tween's face scrunched up into adorable suspicion before smoothing out. "How do you do?"

I shook her offered hand, doing my best to not get amused by the situation.

"Where were we…" My brain rebooted back into the earlier chain of thoughts, with a tap changing my paper-doll display to the blank green window leading to my extra-dimensional space. "One of the results of my power testing is this screen that shows what is going on 'inside' it. It works two ways, also, in that I can see out using it while I'm inside."

"Can I go first?" Vista asked.

"… what?"

"That's what Kid Win is debating, right?" She turned him. "Hoping your Tinker specialty will get revealed?"

Her space-warping powers allowed her to potentially see and hear anything in this room. It'd be safe to assume that she heard everything I already said.

"Uh…" The Tinker didn't have a coherent reply.

"Okay!" She clapped her hands. "I'll go first, prove its safe - again! - then you can do whatever you want." Vista turned to me. "You're a Striker, right?"

I hesitated in confirming the question, and she elaborated, "You can't do your power at range - it's point blank only?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, Vista," Gallant broke into her questioning.

"Yes, Gallant?" Her shift from studious-minded inquisitor to starry-eyed focus was rather jarring.

"… are you sure about this?" He finally asked, likely also whip-lashed from her sudden change. That the Ward could see her emotions likely also added to the disconnect.

"Well… ah… of course! Unless I shouldn't be?"

Gallant looked around the room, gaze lingering on Triumph, in what I took to be a search for valid objections. None found, he answered Vista's inquiring eyes with, "No, it's fine."

After an awkward moment when the two were all but staring at each other, a small fist was thrust my way, arm hidden - along with the rest of her upper body - under a deep green sweater-skirt combo. I tapped her outstretched hand and sent her - very specifically - into the safe, empty region of my 'Blackbox.'

Our eyes popped to the changes on the screens, with the figure of Vista visible on the larger green window as well as the last black grid square. Her actions were perfectly mirrored on both of them.

"She didn't say when you were supposed to take her out," Gallant finally muttered, sighing.

"I'll check in with her?" Kid Win asked, before turning to me. "There isn't some sort of minimum time needed to examine an 'item', right?"

"Nope," I replied, shaking my head. "You'd show up just like Vista," I pointed to her within the white-bordered square, "and all I have to do is check the 'properties' then. You'd even have a fellow Ward here to make sure everything is okay."

He looked between me, Gallant, and my Inventory interface interface a few times before sticking his own arm my way. "I'm ready."

A tap sent the Tinker into the same space as the pint-sized heroine, the green window automatically zooming back in scale to include them both. While they went closer to other, animatedly gesturing, Gallant and I zeroed onto Kid Win's small inventory square.

A cautious poke of the mobile figure brought up a new blue screen.

"Kid Win"

- Human

- Parahuman: Tinker [Modularity]

"Got it?" I asked Gallant, who nodded in reply, a contemplative expression on his face, then brought out both the Wards.

Gallant threw an arm around the Tinker, pulling him out of hearing range, while I caught the attention of the space-warper, as she looked to be ready to follow the other pair. "Vista?"

"Yes?"

"How are you with… water?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like… hmm…" I tried to organize my thoughts. "One of the constraints of my total extra-dimensional size is the maximum amount of cubic mass I've ever put into it. I've considered water as the most accessible substance to 'stretch' myself that way, but I'm still limited by myself: my maximum surface area capable of absorbing the liquid, as well as how fast I can send it into my Inventory. It's possible that some sort of machine or pump setup could work, but I thought your powers might have a solution as well…?"

"I'll test it out and get back to you," she offered, seemingly distracted by the question.

I smiled, replying, "That's all I can ask for. Thanks."

"You're welcome." With that, she took a single step away and disappeared.

A scan over the sofas revealed that she had reinserted herself into the young heroes' lineup.

'So,' I thought, head nodding to the background music, 'that makes three of the Wards so far: Gallant, Kid Win, and Vista. Shadow Stalker is gone - too bad, how sad - while Aegis, Browbeat, and Clockblocker are still to be done. Triumph is an ex-Ward, but… I don't know how well I'd copy his powers, anyways. If it happens, it happens.'

With a roll of my shoulders and a cracking of my knuckles, I prepped myself for the awkwardness that was a middle aged man talking to a bunch of teenagers.

- [+] -

It went much better than I expected.

All of the Wards managed to convince each other, as well as Triumph, to check out the interior of my extra-dimensional space without me having to do anything.

They mostly had their own group dynamic, which I didn't bother to intrude into. The few exceptions to my wallflower state were talks about powers, where I received the ingenious suggestion to use water filled shipping containers, and a push from myself to Browbeat for him to test out his biological self-modifications under the very well known 'healing touch' of Amy Dallon.

What that particular biokinetic seed would grow into, I had no idea.

Jokes were made about 'Blackbox's Blackbox,' with the majority coming from Clockblocker. After some back and forth, the simple nickname of 'Greenbox' emerged, based on the colour of my viewing window. Whether I'd choose to spread that name or pick something else was up in the air.

After enough lukewarm pizza and pop to make my stomach start to rebel, I called it a night and obtained a PRT escort back to my secure suite.

The walk gave me enough time to finalize the naming conventions I wanted for myself: I'd stick with 'Blackbox' as my cape name, with 'Inventory' being the collective description of all my interfaces and features. I'd simplify the black square grid to the self-descriptive 'Grid' and my empty extra-dimensional space as 'Box.' There would be less overall confusion for myself and others that way.

I managed to constrain my excitement through the process of barricading my door once more, but that was it. The next moment had me dive back into my newly renamed 'Box,' eagerly pulling up my Inventory interface. A few mental clicks delivered satisfaction, along with the unfortunate appearance of new-found limits.

Power Sets:

- Aegis: [Not Applicable: flight; augmented physiology.]

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological. [Not Applicable: personal telekinesis.]

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation. [Not Applicable: regeneration; super strength.]

Not seeing any reasons for rejection, I installed them all.

Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- Dynamic/As Needed, Available: Armsmaster, Dauntless, Gallant.

- Off, Available: Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista, Triumph.

I changed all the newly listed power sources to 'Dynamic/As Needed' right away, then pulled up what I considered the most important screen.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Interface Modification:

- Sound/volume manipulation.

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Spatial properties adjusting.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

Item State:

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

I was now firmly in the 'drowning in options' stage. The more powers I had access to, the more temptation there was to to diverge from my core concept: putting things into my Inventory, and keeping them there.

For instance, I could guess that my newly upgraded 'sound manipulation' could be turned into an effective and easy ranged sonic attack. But that would be a 'blunt hammer' approach, much like my daydreams of turning a 'brightness' screen into some sort of super-laser. The same sort of idea revolved around Gallant's emotional projectiles: mass released, upgraded, whatever - all derived variants of the same idea.

Another degree of overwhelm came when I considered the scope of my intended plans. Even something as simple as getting enough mass - or liquid water, whatever - to fill up my Box and continue expanding my total Inventory size was a logistical headache. Unless I used some sort of container - such as a shipping container, or a truck load of water balloons - I'd run into the problem of being unable to quickly free up enough space to be useful.

Though, to be fair, its only been a few days since I've arrived in Brockton Bay - perhaps it'd make more sense to focus on my immediate problems?

I dismissed my copied powers related screens, and took a moment to give my paper-doll and main Inventory grid a through once-over.

What jumped out as more short-term problems with more easily solvable solutions were money and clothing. For the former, I had only a few dollars in change, while the latter consisted of casual clothes, PRT-branded spares, and a small pile of domino masks.

At the self-reminder, I removed the one I had been wearing on my face all day and massaged the imprints it had made.

The easiest short-term solution also lay in my Inventory grid: the PRT contract draft that Armsmaster had passed me earlier. I had already begun making notes about it, and the sooner I finished the better.

With a shrug, I followed through on my decision, pulling the stack of paper out of my Inventory, along with the much thinner pile of scribbled notes. Another set of taps brought up my journal-like application, and I resumed my laborious work.

- [+] -

By the time I had finished, it was too late for anything apart from sleep.

I gave myself a brief shower in the en-suite washroom, changed into yet another set of PRT-branded clothes, and drifted off into anxiety-laden slumber behind my well-barricaded door.

A/N: 1st chapter of 2. Second coming December 2nd.

Chapter 5 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 5 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- No un-used power sets available.

Installed Power Sets:

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- All currently available installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Sound/volume manipulation.

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Spatial properties adjusting.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

Item State:

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Power Sources

-[9/9; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available]

Armsmaster, Dauntless, Gallant; Triumph, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left.

Notable Inventory contents:

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A contract draft between Blackbox and the PRT.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: Armsmaster, Dauntless, Triumph.

- Wards: Gallant, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

Last edited: Jan 20, 2022

6 - Contractual Timing

A/N: 2 of 2.

Chapter 6 - Contractual Timing

[April 3rd, 2011 - Afternoon]

In the PRT headquarters, my new day's activities involved bouncing between different staff members and departments with my continually revised affiliate hero contract.

Once I finished a afternoon meal in the notably busier cafeteria, what I hoped was the final legal meeting took place in a small, out of the way office in the PRT's legal department.

"Blackbox," the thin, well-preserved middle-aged Black man spoke, triggering my thoughts of Thomas Calvert until I read his photo ID lanyard - Mamadou Nsia Afolabi - and then newly stressed under the idea of mispronouncing his name. "Have a seat."

I followed his direction, sinking deeply into a leather chair that faced his darkly burnished wooden desk and a tinted view of the Brockton Bay skyline, obscured only by the silhouette of a large, rectangular computer monitor.

Mamadou flipped open a leather folio, exposing the off-white pages filled with text within, and slid it my way. I spared a moment to envy his suit - blue so dark it was almost black, with a subtle hint of lighter lines within - and turned my attention to the pages.

"The biggest change," Mamadou began, speaking with an accent I couldn't place, "was a revision that was prompted by Director Piggot. Since, as she stated, you have the capacity to safely and indefinitely detain prisoners, she offered to deputize you as a legal entity in the form of a 'mobile prison.' While it is more of a pilot concept, and only valid if not overturned by higher authorities, that role has the ability to more than make up any of the other pay cuts."

"I see…" I mumbled, staring at the papers while my mind raced. The only way Emily Piggot would have proposed my role as a 'prison' would be due to Armsmaster talking about my role as a Trump - and perhaps speculating about what I had gained during my all but guaranteed recorded visit to the Wards. While it'd make sense to expect questions from one or both of them, perhaps it'd be better to disclose my own gains to them first.

Once my serious perusal of the contract began, I pulled up my Inventory interface's journal and began mentally writing into a copy of my earlier extensive entries.

Going by the numbers, my original deliberately excessive pay amount had been dialed down to a more reasonable stipend of three thousand dollars per month, payable on the first of the next, with my current month deposited in advance. As a 'prison,' I'd be paid a hundred dollars per parahuman prisoner per day, but only after fifteen successful days of incarceration, or if an earlier legal extraction were to occur. For longer imprisonments, pay would be stacked onto my monthly amount. All amounts were adjusted to be after taxes and other necessary fees.

There was also a set of clauses prompting the option for renegotiation in six months if this 'pilot project' was successful, and didn't bar me from making additional legal transactions with the PRT or others.

The listed responsibilities were clear, encompassing a general ban on criminal actions, criminal organization affiliations or memberships, and destruction of public or private property. An obvious counterpoint to any possible financial windfalls was that theft and damage to property would come out of my total pay, with any beyond that creating a rolling negative balance. One of the stricter requirements was mandatory Endbringer fight participation - even if only in search and rescue.

I'd lose access to my PRT 'secure suite,' gaining a partially shared unit instead, along with a fob and harshly limited roaming permissions in the downtown building itself. Cafeteria credit, along with some health and dental benefits, were also thrown in.

To support my newly inserted role into the bureaucracy of Earth Bet's USA government, I'd also be getting a pile of legal and identity documents. That included supporting my 'mobile prison' and affiliate hero statuses, as well as the opportunity to make my 'unlisted' name of Ozzy Grey more official. In such a case, the PRT would offer to act as a work reference in good standing - unless any hint of criminality were to come up.

As far as cancelling the contract went, that could be done by myself or an authorized PRT representative, with seventy-two hours notice and surrendering of all affiliated documents, prisoners, access devices, and the like. I'd then transition from an 'affiliate' hero to the more detached status of an 'unaffiliated' one instead.

After one more pass through for obvious legal traps or loopholes, I slid the papers back to Mamadou, stating, "It looks good. What's the next step?"

He flashed a smile, reaching under the edge of the desk, and came up with a chromed pen. "Signatures."

A PRT trooper entered the office at an unheard summons, providing the role of a legal witness, while I spent the next few minutes writing down my cape name of 'Blackbox' dozens of times. Afterwards, the trooper left, and the papers were gathered back into its original leather folio. Mamadou then opened a desk drawer, pulling out a much less impressive, but significantly larger, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

"As it was expected that we'd finish off today, this package was assembled for you."

While I unzipped the binder, revealing official PRT letter-headed papers, Mamadou turned to his computer and the quiet sounds of an unseen keyboard began.

I tapped each item as I went over them, sending them into my Inventory. They included an identical, but unsigned, contract of the one that been gone over, a thin book of PRT rules and regulations, as well as documents affirming my status as an affiliate hero and a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.' The binder also contained an attached pouch for smaller items. It held official, card-sized versions stating the same thing as the larger documents did, along with a featureless debit card that had only my cape name and Brockton Bay Bank on it, a set of two black fobs, a folded map of Brockton Bay, a heavily redacted and simplified map of the PRT headquarters, and a photo-ID lanyard similar to the ones I've seen worn around the building. It had a picture of myself in one of the PRT-issued domino masks, marked up with a small black square on the forehead - I had no idea when it was taken.

"All done," Mamadou said, as the keyboard sounds disappeared. "Your access fobs have been activated. Additionally, you have the option for an image consultation with our costume department. Did you want to see if something today was available?"

"Sure!" I blurted out my agreement without really thinking about it.

"Let's see…" He turned back to his computer, tapping away. "There is a time slot this evening, as well as tomorrow morning. Which would you prefer?"

"This evening, please."

Mamadou used the same chromed pen as earlier to write out, in excellent cursive script, a time and room number. I glanced only at it long enough to confirm that it was legible, then sent it to my Inventory with a finger poke.

"Thanks… Mama-dou?"

"Nice try for a first attempt, Blackbox," he said, smiling. "It's Mamadou."

"Right. Thanks." A sigh was paired with my own smile, as I knew that I was horrible with names and would likely forget it in seconds anyways. "I think that's it, then…?"

"Indeed! Though, in the interests of not breaking your contract already, I do recommend that you return the furniture to your earlier suite."

"Ah!" My false cough mixed with the flush of embarrassment filling my face. "Right away. Thanks."

"No problem. Take care, Blackbox."

- [+] -

The next few hours I bounced around within different areas of the downtown PRT headquarters. I dropped off my 'borrowed' furniture back to their original locations, snacked in the cafeteria, and generally wasted time as I waited for my evening appointment.

The sole productive tasks I accomplished were slipping Director Piggot a note about my 'recently discovered' powers, under the guise of a 'thank you' greeting, and some online research. That consisted of using the guaranteed monitored guest WiFi account to look up the publicly listed profiles of Protectorate and Ward members.

It was significantly more difficult than my wiki-crawling experiences prior to landing in Earth Bet, as not only were the profiles described in publicity-friendly marketing-speak, there also was no reason for them to be accurate. On top of which, there were substantially more parahumans than I remember reading of, connected to both vaguely familiar and utterly unknown PRT bases of operations.

The hours of quickly skimming through the hundreds of names pulled up a few decent candidates, though I did have to rely on meta-knowledge to 'fill in the gaps.'

- Annex (Chicago Wards): merge with objects.

- Bastion (Boston Protectorate): force-fields with awareness of them. (Also controversial publicity!)

- Cache (New York Protectorate): a *ranged* extradimensional space-based power.

- Cask (Anchorage Protectorate): Tinker 'potions.'

- Chevalier (Philadelphia Protectorate): combine item properties into one. (Also 'power sight'!)

- Clay (Anchorage Protectorate): sprays 'liquid forcefields.'

- Cuff (Chicago Wards): metallokinetic; can shape metals.

- Dispatch (Houston Protectorate): bubbles of accelerated time.

- Dragon (Vancouver, the Guild): super-Tinker.

- Flechette (New York Wards): alter objects to ignore physics.

- Gasconade (Seattle Protectorate): continually resetting self and others.

- Horizon (Anchorage Protectorate): multiple enhanced vision types.

- Kudzu (New York Protectorate): self-duplicator.

- Legend (New York Protectorate): ALL the lasers!

- Licit (Stafford Protectorate): force-fields with high awareness.

- Lightslinger (Anchorage Protectorate): turn lights into lasers.

- Miss Militia (Brockton Bay Protectorate): omni-weapon!

- Mouse Protector (prior Ward): teleport to tagged people or items.

- Myrddin (Chicago Protectorate): use access to pocket dimensions for effects.

- Narwhal (The Guild): force-fields.

- Pretender (Las Vegas Protectorate): body puppeteer.

- Prism (New York Protectorate): split into three clones.

- Raymancer (Chicago Wards): uses a 'lens' in conjunction with energy blasts and beams.

- Revel (Chicago Protectorate): captures and manipulates energies.

- Satyrical (Las Vegas Protectorate): shape-shift, and create shape-shifting clones.

- Scapegoat (floater, Wards): 'healer.' (Also a future Fallen cape!?)

Grouped by location, they were:

- Anchorage (Alaska, USA): Cask, Clay, Horizon, Lightslinger.

- Brockton Bay (New Hampshire, USA): Miss Militia.

- Chicago (Illinois, USA): Annex, Cuff, Myrddin, Raymancer, Revel.

- Boston (Massachusetts, USA): Bastion.

- New York (New York, USA): Cache, Flechette, Kudzu, Legend, Prism.

- Philadelphia (Pennsylvania, USA): Chevalier.

- Houston (Texas, USA): Dispatch.

- Vancouver (British Columbia, Canada): Dragon.

- Seattle (Washington, USA): Gasconade.

- Stafford (Texas, USA): Licit.

- Las Vegas (Nevada, USA): Pretender, Satyrical.

- UNSPECIFIED: Mouse Protector (USA), Narwhal (Canada), Scapegoat (USA).

One of the best results came from pursuing the prior and retired Wards archive, which gave up the name of Mouse Protector. That set off a chain of mental dominoes concerning her, Ravager, and the Slaughterhouse Nine - one more deadline to be wary of.

As I was still very leery of even stepping outside of the PRT building, I finished my run of tasks by tracking down and settling into my new room.

The permitted route was highlighted in green on the building map I had been given, requiring me to pass through two security doors before I came to my own.

Opening the 'Temporary Suites 3'-labelled door led me to a small, lounge-like room, featuring a pair of dull brown couches, a large, wall-mounted television, a lengthy, rectangular coffee table, and walls covered with blandly non-offensive abstract art suggestive of framed piles of mixed mud. Mild earth tones dominated, with no other colours providing contrast to the overall feeling of 'meh, whatever' that was evoked.

The door to the bathroom was marked with a generic toilet and shower symbol, while the others had the letters 'A' through 'D' on them. Mine was 'B.'

One more use of my fob granted me access to my room, and I returned the fob back into my Inventory. The earth tones themes continued here, but at least my walls were bare of mud-inspired art.

A bed I estimated to be 'double'-sized was the centrepiece of my space, with the only other furniture consisting of a free-standing closet as well as a tall, six-drawered dresser. A look-through of each drawer revealed nothing but dust - I'd need to find replacements for my PRT-branded clothing, soon, unless I wanted to remain looking like a penniless hobo pitied by the government.

Only when I was attempting to relax on the bed did my stomach-churning anxiety resurface. My thoughts were centred on the possible security risks of this room. Specifically, how not only was it between two - supposedly! - other empty bedrooms, the electronically accessed door opened towards the small lounge, not inwards towards my own. Even if I had some convenient heavy furniture, there would be no practical way to secure this space.

Not to mention, my more irrational fears of gassing via the ventilation shafts, or conventional surveillance, turned any thoughts I had of this being a 'safe' place into a strong determination to make or find my own housing elsewhere.

'I wonder if these off-putting design elements were on purpose?'

No amount of rearranging the otherwise comfortable bedding allowed me to truly relax. Tossing and turning, with half my attention on the slowly advancing time display of my Inventory, I choose to head out with well over half an hour remaining before my appointment.

- [+] -

"What about this one?" The question was asked by Ramon, one of the two image consultants the PRT had complimentary offered. He was referring to a rough sketch of a broad-shouldered figure decked out in cuboid-styled armour.

"Pass," I said, sliding the paper back towards him.

I instead rearranged the half-dozen or so other sheets of lightly coloured in sketches into a fan-like spread in front of me. A glance at the craning neck of Ramon had me turn the pages so that they were facing him as well.

"So this is what I'm thinking," I began, continuing when a heard a murmur of encouragement. "I'm a fan of the closed helmet design," I tapped a motorcycle inspired helmet, "along with a fitted costume that isn't quite like a body stocking." I drew an imaginary 'X' over the body-paint-like posed mock-up.

"Colours," I continued, "could either be a simple black, or something more complex, such as a near-black shade of blue or green, or more exotic, such as the shimmering hues of an oil slick."

"Symbols? Icons? Highlights?" Ramon offered into my silence, pointing out features of the other sketches. They ranged from Celtic knot inspired, complex fractals, as well as three-dimensional cubes and basic squares.

I shuffled the papers again, finally deciding on the image of a chest bearing a square made of white lines. "This one."

"Got it…" A mostly clean sheet was fished out from the messy edges of the table, and Ramon began to quickly mark out lines and shapes in coloured pencils.

The figure that emerged roughly matched my imaginings, being a slim man, posed hands on hips, dressed in a shape-hiding black from head to toe. The only exceptions were the bare hands and the white square on the chest.

"Colour in the hands?"

Ramon extended the black shading, making the coverage complete.

"That looks good. Thanks."

"Glad to hear it!" He said, lightly smiling, before signing and dating the bottom corner of the paper. "Here you go." He slid it towards me.

"Oh. Right." I blinked at the completed picture. 'Image consultation didn't imply that I'd be getting a costume, did it?' I gnawed my bottom lip, then looked up at the self-satisfied Ramon, who was busily cleaning up the cluttered table. The other consultant remained at their computer station, where they had been the entire time. David, if I remember his name right, who had kept silent apart from their initial self-introductions.

"So, ah… guys?"

A pair of heads turned my way.

"What are my options for getting a completed costume, anyways?"

"Apart from the PRT? I'm not too sure," Ramon replied, with David facing his computer again. "We mostly do work for the PRT and Protectorate, and one of the employment perks is that costumes are paid for. David could look online for a Brockton Bay tailor?"

I waved away the offer. "Well… hmm. How much time is left for this consultation?"

"About forty minutes," David said, still working on the computer. "You're our last appointment for the day."

"Huh. Okay." I sighed. "Would it be practical to get… say… a very rough costume mock-up? A wearable one?"

"I don't know -" Ramon began, only to get cut off.

"Depends," David said, brushing some blond hair behind a jewellery-filled ear as he gazed our way. "As long as you don't care about it being comfortable, looking good, or even functioning properly… we could whip something up pretty quickly?" He aimed the question at his business partner.

Ramon shrugged, shifting his head from side to side, finally offering a casual, "Sure, I guess."

"Great, thanks!"

The pair ramped up into a maelstrom of activity, pulling a sewing machine from the side cupboards as well as boxes of loose fabrics.

Rather than measuring templates, I acted as a living model, standing on the now-cleared table, as random bits of cloth were wrapped around me, marked, and sewn together. The only way the costume assembly progressed was by the use of my Inventory to repeatedly put on and take off the work-in-progress.

I eventually reduced my original clothes down to my boxers and a different PRT-issued domino mask that they had glued to the inside of a black stocking. The Inventory paper-doll reflection of my appearance had me looking like an elementary art student's rag-doll project - graded as a failure, no less - with the only consistent part being the four lines of a stencil-spray-painted white square on my chest.

A hiss of displeasure marked a shared perspective.

"That's worse than I feared," David said, pained just by looking at me, if his expression was any measure. He had already finished putting away some of the larger items, and was clearing the space by his computer.

"Yeah," Ramon echoed, using the excuse of cleaning up to not stare at their fashion disaster. He soon ran out of reasons, and sat again at the table. A full-body flinch had him shuffle the chair back a few paces.

"Can you… not?" He shook his hands in my direction.

David turned our way. "That was… okay. You know how sometimes your eyes are bigger than your stomach? Eat too much, feel nauseous or something?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. So." He pointed at me. "Think of that as the fashion equivalent." His pained expressed returned. "Maybe if someone's stomach made an mistake, too." A few clicks more, and he reached out to his monitor. The small, tell-tale glare of the screen disappeared as it powered off. "Blackbox. Let me be honest here: do not wear that where anybody can see it."

"Yes!" Ramon added.

"Just… don't. Please?"

"Sure, guys," I replied, shrugging. "No problem. Don't worry about it."

They both let out audible sighs of relief.

"Gimme a second to change…" A scan through my Inventory grid had me find the earlier set of PRT-branded clothing I had been wearing, along with a square-marked domino mask, and I dragged them with a finger-tip to my paper-doll square. Instantly, they switched places.

"Thanks again." I shook their hands, expressing farewells and further gratitude to them each, and left the office-slash-miniature art studio.

Apart from the sight of a PRT trooper on the way back to my 'new' rooms, which prompted me to hurriedly remember to bring out my photo ID lanyard, nothing else eventful happened.

I again uneasily settled in my earth-toned bedroom, but quickly decided to send the bed - and myself - to the empty space of my Inventory.

It was time to see what an 'upgrade' charge could do to the disaster of a costume I had been given.

A/N: that's all, folks! Comments and feedback welcome!

Chapter 6 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 6 - INVENTORY Notes

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- No un-used power sets available.

Installed Power Sets:

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- All currently available installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Sound/volume manipulation.

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Spatial properties adjusting.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

Item State:

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Power Sources

-[9/9; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available] Armsmaster, Dauntless, Gallant; Triumph, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left.

Notable Inventory contents:

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brockton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A very, very badly put together costume for Blackbox.

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: Armsmaster, Dauntless, Triumph.

- Wards: Gallant, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

Last edited: Jan 20, 2022

7 - Merely Average

A/N: 1 of 1. Real life trumped writing this month. Happy New Years & enjoy!

Chapter 7 - Merely Average

[April 3rd, 2011 - night]

One 'upgrade' charge was enough to turn my fashion disaster of a costume into something that was worth putting into a Halloween vintage bargain bin.

Instead of looking like an assemblage of rags, my bodysuit was - more or less - a single, seamless piece of black material from head to toes. The outlines of the white square on my chest didn't look nearly as roughly painted on as before, appearing more like a sharp-edged change of fabric colour, and the formerly jarring eye glass pieces had smoothed in shape and in seamless connections.

Stretching from side to side, front to back, I kept an eye on my tiny mirrored figure in the Inventory Grid interface. Light hopping in place proved that the 'sacrificial' joining of my well-worn boots was worth it, as all my movements were unrestricted and comfortable. I didn't notice any binding or spots in my costume where I felt that I'd need to 'break it in' or remove rough edges.

Overall, this use of my day's upgrade charge was a success. I managed to obtain a passable costume for effectively nothing, and would be able to improve it the same way. It'd be interesting to see how it develops.

Testing complete, I flopped onto my earth-toned bed that I had nabbed from my new PRT suite, making sure that my shod feet hung off the side, and stared at the featureless ceiling of my extra-dimensional Box beyond my interface.

'What next?' The thoughts rung through my head.

Lacking any immediate answer rushing to the forefront of my mind, I tapped at my interface to bring up the various saved writings I had made. I had each 'page' visible as its own little floating square, and did a quick edit pass over them to reflect my latest accomplishments.

All things considered, they didn't add up to much - only the progress on developing my costume and the researched lists I did about PRT-backed capes contributed to my prior identified goals. While the quality of life improvements I supposedly gained from my recently cleared contract were fine, they didn't really count in the greater scheme of things. In point of fact, even this very bed I was lying on was technically PRT property.

I closed those windows, grumbling, and sought out the icon to launch my interface's web browser.

Instead of an almost-expected 'no connection found' error message, the familiar launch page of the PRT's guest WiFi agreement popped up. I scrolled down, mindlessly skipping the text as usual, and clicked the 'accept' button.

A new set of furrows creased my brow as I considered what active wireless signals in my extra-dimensional Box meant: technology-based monitoring wasn't blocked. Just like how I could 'view' out to the greater world through my interface, so to could signals go 'through' that quasi-opening into here.

A concern, for sure.

By the time those thoughts had finished rumbling around, the PRT's front portal page had fully loaded, in all its nineties era graphical glory.

I skimmed over the page, passing by such familiar links as the gift shop, archived press releases, and hero profiles, to linger over something that caught my eye: an off-site connection to Parahumans Online, commonly known as PHO.

My excited poke brought me to the forum's splash screen, whose text-dominated appearance dwarfed the PRT's in clunky, brutal practicality.

'What now?'

The obvious answer was getting myself a [Verified Hero] label.

I tapped through the privacy conscious registration process - not even a valid email was required! - and filled out the least amount possible. A single checkbox for requesting a 'verified hero' tag was tapped at the end, and the moment I finished, my screen was redirected to a message.

Hello, Blackbox!

To upgrade your account from [Unverified Hero] to [Verified Hero], please send suitable identifying pictures or video to this account.

Thank you for joining Parahumans Online!

- Tin Mother [Administrator]

Ah yes, the account ever-suspected to be used by the Tinker, Dragon. The issues with that admired AI, Armsmaster, and the Dragonslayers was one more complication for the future.

A few taps around my interface confirmed that I was still recording audio and video - in fact, I had never turned it off - but the fact that my Inventory screen was acting as the lens and microphone meant that I'd have to go through days of material to pick something suitable.

A black marker and one of my many blank pieces of paper were pulled from my Inventory Grid, upon which I scrawled 'Blackbox' in large, blocky letters. Focused intention pulled them back into my Grid, whereupon I repeated the actions a number of times to make sure the recording was suitable.

The video playback screen followed my intentions, changing from a simple screen with basic remote-control-like functions to something closer to a closed circuit television camera security setup. The stream of recording appeared as a single blue line, in which I moved the linked display via a finger-tip.

The start and end of my simple naming act was selected, and I willed the thought of it being exported.

After indecisive heat-like wavers rippled over my interface, a 'save as' prompt near-identical to years of Windows operating systems appeared, and 'Blackbox_is_ ' was created after a short blip of a work-in-progress screen.

With Tin Mother's message still open, I composed a reply.

Hello to the admin!

I'm attaching a file to demonstrate my abilities.

Please feel free to inquire about my affiliate hero status with the PRT, as I have recently signed up with them in Brockton Bay.

I'm looking forward to posting and reading here.

Regards,

Blackbox

No immediate reply was forthcoming, in what I imagined was a common sense time delay in order to appear to operate at more 'human' speeds.

Instead of twiddling my thumbs, I began to browse through the forum's directories, starting at the geographical root. I had no interest in trying the organization or special interest sections just yet.

A search prompt led me to the city of Brockton Bay, where I scrolled through a few pages of headlines. Familiar names stood out, such as warnings about the ABB's infamous Lung, along with more fan-inspired gushing over the popular Glory Girl.

Impulses to 'stir the pot' and otherwise troll people online were wisely squashed. As much as I believed that I had a substantial anti-Master and anti-Thinker package, I doubted that the same protections would be extended to anything I posted online. Or, in a more extreme sense, anything that left the vicinity of my Inventory system.

That bout of paranoia was enough to dissuade me from even thinking of becoming PHO's 'oracle troll,' but it begged the question of what I could sensibly use it for.

Rather than speculate, I went and pulled up my prior saved lists of plans and ideas. A scan over them revealed an obvious next step: find out when in the canonical timeline I was, and use that as basis for my next steps.

I popped up a new Inventory-based text writing box and began my research.

- [+] -

It took me under an hour to identify what I considered were the most important events. While I didn't have anywhere near the omnipresent view of my original Worm wiki trawls, a combination of educated guesses and filling in of blanks helped.

2011 Events:

- January: 'Locker girl' event (Taylor Hebert) occurs at Winslow High. No names publicly mentioned likely due to age and privacy concerns.

- February 24th: The Simurgh attacked Canberra, Australia, resulting in the city being quarantined. Leviathan hasn't hit Brockton Bay yet (obviously).

- March - Ruby Dreams: police activity involving the Ruby Dreams casino. No concrete evidence of it being an ABB front, or that it was a robbery done by the Undersiders.

- March - Bakuda: Bomb threats towards Cornell University were stopped by the New York Protectorate, but there were no confident follow-up mentions of the secure arrest or containment of the Tinker. Likely recruited by Lung as per canon.

- April: current month. No stand-out activities so far.

Misc Events:

- Skitter: NO mentions of a bug-based parahuman or unusual insect activity anywhere in Brockton Bay. Note that since the dynamics around her bullying 'Trio' were recently halted, it is very likely that her original encounter with Lung and the Undersiders won't happen.

- The Travelers: no mentions about anybody by their descriptions in Brockton Bay, let alone Boston. Vague details in other cities.

- Slaughterhouse Nine: no mentions about an emotion-based female master (Cherish), with Hatchet Face still an active member. Tons of locked and depressing threads about the murder-hobos.

- Mouse Protector: still trash-talking and making cheesy puns, as recently as while I was doing research. Exact time of her confrontation with Ravager and the S9 unknown; could be as early as later today.

No matter how I stared at this new list, I couldn't come up with a plan that I'd be able to execute by myself. For instance, the ABB and Undersiders confrontation involved Oni Lee backed by Bakuda's exotic bomb effects - a possible trump to my own Inventory Trump powers. I theoretically could attempt to nab them all - their base was in some place called Redmond Welding, if I remember correctly - but the chances of perfectly obtaining them in one swoop was very unlikely.

Bigger risks emerged with anything to do with the Travelers' evil-clone-spawning Noelle, along with the physics-breaking threat of the S9's Siberian.

There was the chance of a single, high-risk opportunity, though: the near-guaranteed fatal meeting of Mouse Protector and the Nine.

'I'm still too weak,' I thought, frowning behind my head-covering mask, scratching my forehead. 'Rather hard for a paranoid introvert to gain trustable allies - I'll keep on pushing the win-win angle with others as much as possible. My simplest next step is to expand my Inventory Box size as much as possible.'

A PHO user search revealed Armsmaster's account, and I crafted a message for him.

Hello Armsmaster,

I'm planning to go to the Rig tomorrow, hanging out at the water level to increase my Inventory size as much as possible. I've got some potential plans in the works that you might benefit from, but don't want to presume further on your time.

Hope your Tinkering is fruitful and productive.

Regards,

Blackbox

That done, I popped out of my Box back into my small, earth-toned bedroom. It looked slightly barren due to the absence of its bed.

Moving out of it to the shared sitting area, I went to the common washroom and spent some time cleaning up, changing into yet another set of PRT-branded clothes, then headed back to my bedroom and extra-dimensional Box once more.

A last-minute check of PHO revealed a reply from Armsmaster.

Blackbox:

Come to my lab instead of the Rig's docks. I'll have something ready for you for high-capacity water intake by that time.

We need to talk.

- Armsmaster

I squinted at the message, thrown off kilter for a second, before crafting an acknowledgement of my own, and sent it back to him.

My more immediate concerns handled, I tucked myself under the blankets and tried to relax.

Sleep eventually claimed me.

- [+] -

[April 4th, 2011 - morning]

I covered my yawn with an unnecessary hand, already masked by my full-body costume.

Armsmaster was busy at work, power-walking between multiple tables topped with unrecognizable batches of technology. The odd robotic arm followed his unheard directions, sprouting flames or electric sparks for purposes that I knew not about.

I had only been here a few minutes, curtly directed to "Wait, please" while he had finished up some Tinker-tech. At least I had a half-way comfortable chair for the duration.

"Blackbox?"

My head snapped in the Tinker's direction. "Yes?"

"Try this." He gestured towards what looked like a wall-mounted stool that rose atop two boot-like extensions coming out of the floor.

I cautiously walked towards it, peering down into the boot's depths. Inky darkness answered to my gaze.

"What am I looking at here?"

"I co-opted some of the Rig's internal piping to function as a high-velocity water delivery system," he began, waving towards the foot enclosures. They popped open, splitting down the sides. "The boots also have a pressure-sensitive auto-cutoff feature, but it would make more sense to monitor your own capacity before that function is needed."

I nodded in reply, then gingerly sat down on the stool, back pressing against the wall. My enclosed feet and calves comfortably fit into the open boots.

Armsmaster continued, pointing to the left hand-hand side. "Here is a one-function button that either closes and seals the apparatus, or opens it when already closed."

I had to twist to see where he had indicated, then pressed the highly visible orange button. The boot-like devices then slowly closed, fitting snugly against my calves, then a further tight pressure ringed around just below my knees.

"What you'll be feeling now is an inflatable ring similar in nature to that used by blood-pressure cuffs. Let me know if it gets too tight, or you begin to lose sensation in your lower extremities."

I wiggled my toes, mildly concerned about the restricted range of motion, but not pained by it. "Got it."

"On the other side is a knob that controls the total water flow."

I leaned to the right, taking in the over-sized dial with numbers zero to eleven on it. The dial was currently on zero.

"How high can this go?" I asked, looking at the bearded Tinker.

"It's adaptable," he began, more focused on how the enclosures fit my legs than myself. "Depending on how well the piping handles the pressures, along with your own intake rates, there is no reason why it can't exceed fifty-thousand PSI."

A faint memory of industrial waterjet cutting machines tickled my memory. "Isn't that enough to cut through steel?"

"Correct," he answered, a small smile briefly visible, "though a range of fifty to one hundred thousand PSI is more suited to that - but multiple parts would fail long before that point."

"I see." I dry-swallowed, tensely wiggling my toes as I imagined my legs getting pulped under those intense pressures. "Lets start with the lower settings, then?"

"Agreed." He said, near-silently chuckling, then continued, "it is now unlocked. Try the first gauge - there is a buffer tank in case you can't immediately begin to take in water."

I nodded, then carefully turned the dial over from 'zero' to 'one.' A cold, wet sensation, paired with another feeling of pressure, quickly rose up my feet and calves. At the same time, I filled my mind with the strong intention to absorb water - and only water - directing the liquids to my Inventory.

The wet pressure disappeared.

Armsmaster nodded, approving. "Try going higher. I'm not detecting any signs of mechanical stress."

I gave myself a set of calming deep breaths before I continued, turning the dial from 'one' to 'two.'

Not even the slightest tinge of water touched my calves, likely disappearing before the liquid could pass up from the bottom of these boot-like enclosures.

"Looking good so far," I said, giving the Tinker a pair of thumb-ups. "Should I keep on ramping it up?"

"Yes," he replied, "though pull up your Inventory interface to monitor how fast the volume fills. I'd like to monitor it as well."

I nodded, agreeing with his request, bringing up the interface and adjusting the settings so that it was visible to both of us.

Our following exchanges continued along the same lines, all the while we watched the volume filled percentage rise upwards. As it passed ninety-five, I dialed it down, step by step, until one-hundred percent briefly flashed before turning to ninety-nine again. I clicked it back off to zero.

"The total amount of water you took in," Armsmaster began, his gaze focused off to the side, "suggests a previously empty volume of approximately nine cubic feet."

I shrugged, accepting his math, thinking about how the bed I used dominated the floor space of my Box.

"What's next?" I asked, more confidently wiggling my feet within their enclosures.

"Continue with increasing your total volume," he replied, moving around his lab. He took a heavy-looking stool and brought it close towards me, settling it a few feet away. "In the mean time, I'd like to go over the Tinker-tech calculator you gave back to me."

"Sure?" I slowly clicked the dial from zero back to one again, then turned my attention back to the Tinker. "Any good news?"

In the form of an answer, a robotic arm whirred overhead and deposited a half-melted piece of electronics onto Armsmaster's out-stretched hand.

"This is it," he began, bringing it closer to me for inspection, before curling his armoured fingers around the former calculator.

"So… uh… huh." I didn't know what to say. "Did it blow up or something?"

"Not at all," he replied, shaking his head. "The ruins of this amazing little device is the result of destructive testing - testing far beyond what I could have expected."

"Oh?" My eyebrows rose, hidden by my mask.

"Indeed," he continued, nodding. "There were no physically discernable differences on the returned device. Everything about it functioned as normal. However, when I began stress testing its computational abilities, that is when its aberrant nature began to reveal itself."

I kept silent.

"Normally," Armsmaster continued, "trace amounts of heat and subsequent heat-related damage would be generated by peak-load calculations, especially if the demanded amounts were near the theoretical maximum of the device for a prolonged period of time. What was found, however, was that while excess heat was generated, no traces of even the slightest amount of wear were being created."

"Hmm?"

"Yes," he continued, interpreting my murmur of encouragement in his own way, "further stress testing revealed that this pattern continued near-indefinitely. I placed mathematical demands well beyond its measurable maximums. That led to even more waste heat, but not even the slightest sign of actual damage. Eventually, the life-time battery was completely drained."

I blinked. "Did that happen then?" I indicated the near-destroyed electronics.

"No," he shook his head again. "After adapting a wireless power transmitter to continue to supply the calculator further, I pushed it impossibly higher. One hundred times maximum. One thousand." Armsmaster broke out into a wide grin, before calming himself. "Nothing damaged it, even when I could boil water on its surface!"

"Huh. Then… how?"

He shrugged. "I attempted to adjust its exterior paneling while it was still running. The moment I had it popped open, the formerly ignored waste-heat seemed to hit the entire device at once, all but destroying it."

"Alright," I said, nodding while contemplating the Tinker's words. Given that my single upgrade to a piece of Tinker-tech made it 'stable', it was possible that that 'stability' was backed by powers - in other words, it would be super stable. Regardless, the device still ended up broken, and a Tinker-tech item that can't be Tinkered with was its own set of problems. "So I'm guessing that this is still good news?"

"Absolutely!" He held out the destroyed calculator on an open palm, and a robotic arm whirred into sight to take it away. "Two days ago, the inability to Tinker on a parahuman-stablilty-enhanced device would have been… aggravating… to say the least, but talks with Kid Win and his newly revealed specialty of modularity - thank you for that, by the way - inspired a new line of Tinker-tech based on the concept of modular, interlocking components that are each capable of being pushed beyond their limits. Efficiency even to the degree of making items that would normally be impossibly fragile or too dependent on endless series of minor repairs…"

"Huh." I lacked the eloquence to properly elaborate on his discoveries. I could probably brainstorm a few ideas, given time, but it seemed like the Tinker was far ahead of me in that regard. There was one bottleneck in the whole process, however. "But all this relies on my once-a-day charge…?"

"Correct." He acknowledged my comment with a light dip of his helmeted head. "And what are your thoughts on that?" He seemed to loom over me with the question, even though only the slightest tilt of his body was angled towards me.

"Now," I began, holding my hands up in supplication, "this is just a guess, but… I don't think I'll always be limited to the once-a-day charge. I'm speculating that some synergy may be possible with other parahuman powers, with time-accelerating ones being my first pick."

He crossed his arms. "And what happens if that synergy doesn't occur?"

I moved my head from side to side. "I assuming we can both understand that there is a serious time and money benefit for having a 'super-stable' item as you have identified, right?"

He nodded.

"So," I sighed, "we would then need to arrange some sort of trade or schedule for the use of my limited charges, depending on how we could benefit each other."

"Such as through the water intake system you are using right now?"

"Ah… yes." I blinked, thinking fast. "Perhaps the calculator could already count for something?"

A tense silence followed, our hidden eyes staring at each other.

"Perhaps." Armsmaster was the first to speak.

I let myself sink in relief. "How about assuming that synergies work until proven otherwise?"

He made a sound of agreement. "For now, then. Did you already have some ideas?"

I nodded. "One sec… I made a list." I tapped through my interface's saved files, eventually pulling up the one I had organized by location.

- Anchorage (Alaska, USA): Cask, Clay, Horizon, Lightslinger.

- Brockton Bay (New Hampshire, USA): Miss Militia.

- Chicago (Illinois, USA): Annex, Cuff, Myrddin, Raymancer, Revel.

- Boston (Massachusetts, USA): Bastion.

- New York (New York, USA): Cache, Flechette, Kudzu, Legend, Prism.

- Philadelphia (Pennsylvania, USA): Chevalier.

- Houston (Texas, USA): Dispatch.

- Vancouver (British Columbia, Canada): Dragon.

- Seattle (Washington, USA): Gasconade.

- Stafford (Texas, USA): Licit.

- Las Vegas (Nevada, USA): Pretender, Satyrical.

- UNSPECIFIED: Mouse Protector (USA), Narwhal (Canada), Scapegoat (USA).

"That is a lot smaller than I expected," Armsmaster said, after spending a moment to read the hovering display.

I shrugged, replying, "Apart from limiting myself to the PRT here, I've already found out that some powers, such as Aegis' modified biology, simply do not work with my Inventory system. All these picks are based on the very loose speculation that they might… should… could… work with it. The time-accelerating cape, for example… what was his name…" I panned over the list.

"Dispatch?"

"Yeah, right, him. So I could gain the means to fast-forward time based powers, or maybe fast-forward time within my Box."

"Or nothing?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "That's an option, too."

He briefly drummed his gauntleted fingers on his armoured thigh. "There is still the question of how to get any of them willingly into your extra-dimensional space."

"True, though…" I thought for a moment. "The best appeals are those that are honest?"

He gestured for me to continue.

"What about suggesting that you are looking to scan for power interactions? Like in Dispatch's case, how his time acceleration would work in an extra-dimensional space - with the possibilities of making Tinker-tech that run in the same way his power does?"

"That might work…" He paused. "For some of them, at least. It doesn't instill any sense of urgency in making it happen, though."

"Yeah…" I used the silence to think. "Maybe tie it in to your Endbringer efforts? Detection systems, defenses, weapons?"

Armsmaster nodded. "Good point. I already brought up that you have some insights about them to Director Piggot - she mentioned pulling the Chief Director in to get more high-level support."

My breath caught, but I at least prevented myself from squeaking out my reaction. "Costa-Brown?"

"Yes," he replied. "You know of her?"

"Um." I swallowed. Thoughts of Cauldron and the dual identity wielded by Alexandria roared to the forefront of my mind, along with how very vulnerable I still was. "Yes?"

He didn't ask further, merely nodding in acknowledgement. I was relieved that he didn't ask any inconvenient questions.

"Was there a timeline for that?" I asked.

"A few days, maybe," he replied. "Maybe sooner if you wanted to push it?"

"No, no," I answered, forcing my words to be as nonchalantly casual as possible. "That's fine. I… ah…" Any excuses I had died under considerations of Armsmaster's lie detector. It was better to not say anything. In truth, even my saying of 'that's fine' may have been too much.

"So," I continued, desperate to change the topic, "um… I've got some other ideas about how to improve my interface?"

"And?" He stood up from his heavy-duty stool, striding over to the nearest gear-covered counter. He began to work while I attempted to put the right words together.

"Like…" I paused. "There was a number of different electronics, scanning devices, and so on that were 'installed' into my Interface."

Armsmaster didn't reply, instead continuing on his Tinkering.

"I thought that some software might be cobbled together as a sort of graphical user interface, or even as a basic macro of sorts. Kind of like… if 'impacting object exceeds certain velocity,' 'put object into Inventory.' What do you think?"

He briefly paused, before continuing his work. "Doable. However, even though I have the specifications of what you 'installed,' there is still the fact that any software I'd make would be Tinker-tech."

"Hmm. True." I gnawed at my lip, hidden by my mask. Physical Tinker-tech devices had already proved to be incapable of being installed into my Inventory. "Maybe try a small proof of concept?"

"I'll think about it," he casually replied.

"I'd like to think that means to not die via high-speed kinetic impacts would be at least a small priority, Armsmaster…?"

"Are you expecting that inside my lab?"

"Um." I took a look around. "… no?"

"Well then?"

"… sorry. Right."

I turned my attention back to my Inventory interface, watching the 'filled volume' percentage continually bounce between ninety-nine and one hundred.

"… can I use your WiFi?"

"No."

"Okay…"

More waiting followed, filled only by the sounds of Tinkering.

"Could I have a Faraday cage?"

My question was enough to catch his attention. "Why are you asking?"

"A security hole," I answered. "I found out that I get wireless signals in my Box. I don't know any easy way to shut them off - to disconnect whatever active or passive transmissions I have going on - and thought that a basic, mechanically operated, tiny Faraday cage would serve…?"

"… how small?"

I held out two gloved fingers about an inch apart.

"That's doable."

My hope was that even though Tinker methods would construct the cage, if it lacked any of the exotic properties of Tinker-tech it would be viable for installation.

Further musings were cut off by the appearance of a robotic arm speeding my way, the three-pronged hand holding a tiny, multi-faceted shape.

"Try it," Armsmaster said, not even looking back at me.

I gingerly accepted the fine, filigree-mesh-like item, spying a small prong sticking up. A finger-press on that prong generated a small 'click,' removing an even tinier gap in the mesh, while another press restored that minuscule gap.

'No harm in trying!' I thought, and popped the miniature Faraday cage into my Inventory Grid. Breath held in anticipation, an examination of the item revealed an 'install' option.

I immediately mentally pressed it, and the small cage disappeared with an accompanying ripple passing over my Interface.

A visual scan revealed a tiny airplane-like icon in the lower left-most corner, reminiscent of years of smartphone use and the popular battery-saving 'airplane mode.'

"It worked!" My exultant praise was met only with a disinterested acknowledgement.

This was going to be a really long day.

- [+] -

I half-dozed off at some point, with shoulder-pokes rousing me to full wakefulness.

What looked like a normal USB key was held in a robotic hand, pressed against me. A tap sent it into my Inventory Grid, whereupon I examined it further. I mentally choose the 'Install [Software]' option, though a flicker of fear about Tinker-tech viruses did run through me. I'd have to hope that such wasn't included, or anti-virus software might be needed for the future. I was really depending on the mutually beneficial self-interest of Armsmaster to prevent such forms of sabotage.

"It installed!" I let out, directing my words to the self-absorbed Tinker. "The software, I mean," I clarified, "the USB key is still intact."

I skipped any attempts to find or experiment with the new options, with the expectation that it made no point to do so with this prototype.

I thought of hailing the Tinker to call my time here today to a close, but one topic angrily buzzed at the back of my mind: the combined problem-opportunity of Mouse Protector's confrontation with the Slaughterhouse Nine. I had no idea when the mouse-themed heroine was due her horrific surgery, and my putting it off for even an extra day might be at her expense.

With that unpleasantness starting to churn my stomach, I spoke out. "Armsmaster!"

It took him a few moments before his attention turned my way. "Done for the day?"

"Ah… yes and no," I replied. "I thought that I'd spill the details of some of the world's most powerful Villain Masters."

That was enough to for him to interrupt his Tinkering, which he winded down and strode back over to the heavy-duty stool in front of me.

"I'm listening."

"Okay," I began, taking a deep breath, "to put things in perspective, the Fallen have their own super-Master: a woman that goes by Mama Mathers, which I presume heads the Mathers family branch."

He held up a hand, signaling for me to wait. "No matches found. Please continue."

"Alright… how to put it…" I searched for the right words. "Like… you see her, and she can influence your sight - and see through your sight. You hear her, your hearing. Touch, and the same - even extending to pain and pleasure. What makes it worse is that her power extends through parahuman senses of all kinds, remote viewing, Tinker-tech - all of it. This 'claiming' of a victims senses is also persistent and long-lasting, but… not permanent. That influence has spread over a large chunk of the Fallen, if not all of them."

"Why bring her up now?"

I shrugged. "Planning contingencies? To put things in perspective? I think she is Valefor's mother, too, if that matters."

He nodded.

"Now then…" I took another deep breath. "The scary Masters are often well known and obvious. Like Mama Mathers, there are the big power sets of…" I cursed my faulty memory. "… that guy that can't be attacked?"

"Nice Guy? August Prince?" Armsmaster offered.

"The latter," I replied, nodding in agreement. "Added to emotional Masters, such as Heartbreaker and the lesser-known Cherish, the daughter being a wider-scale controller than her father. Hijack takes over people's bodies, and Valefor directs via mind-dominating verbal commands. Now…" I sighed, scratching my head. "What to do when a power set falls out of those clear categories?"

"What do you mean?"

"Ah… hmm." I took in the Tinker's serious expression. "Maybe it'd be better if I described what this Master could do?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Okay… the biggest factor is that his influence is unconscious, pervasive, and world-wide. It has the effects of warning him away from unmanageable risk factors, as well as being an 'interrupt' for whenever he'd be killed. Like… say… if an invisible Stranger had a literal knife against his throat, instead of killing him, they'd hesitate, become visible, and use their supposed threat as a basis to gloat, bargain, or whatever the case may be."

"Additionally," I continued, "this power underlies his words, gestures, and communications to make them better heard, understood, and believed. It ends up giving him additional gravitas, mystique and so on."

"Does he have any weaknesses?"

"In a manner of speaking," I replied. "That secondary Master power - on top of his more well known primary power - only works on parahumans. A small squad of normal people decked out in military gear would provide a hard counter, especially if they had ordinance on the level of anti-vehicle sniper rifles and high-explosive artillery."

Armsmaster kept silent, digesting my words. "Everything you said reads as close to perfectly true. The same question as before stands - why tell me this, now? On top of everything else you've revealed over the last few days?"

"A problem and opportunity," I replied, repeating my earlier thoughts. "I only know of one near-guaranteed encounter between this Master and one specific parahuman victim. If you - or the PRT at large - were to prepare for it in a warzone-appropriate way, that Master would likely avoid that upcoming encounter. At the same time, if nothing happens, that target would die, and more deaths would occur - without this chance to stop him."

"Do you think your anti-Thinker or anti-Master qualities would prevent his influence on you?"

I shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know." That was part of the reason that'd it be very helpful for getting confirmation of what my brain held: was I a standard, Worm-verse parahuman, or something else? The latter option would be relieving, but also open up a large can of existential mind-fuckery. "If I assume that I am immune, being properly upgraded via power copying would provide a hard counter. If I'm not… I don't know. Even the idea of being a carrier for a human-normal fire team loaded to kill might not be enough."

"Given by what you said, though," Armsmaster began, "the easiest way to prove you are immune or not would be to excessively prepare, to become a threat so high that his cautionary signals would prevent him from taking out his planned target. That way, if that particular murder doesn't happen - you get confirmation."

"True," I replied, agreeing with him. "That's absolutely correct." Without planning on it, I've given Armsmaster more reasons to support me getting stronger.

"I don't like this."

I pursed my lips at his comment, half-stifling a shrug. Not much I could offer the Tinker.

"What is the timeline here? Can you say who the target is?"

"Timeline? Hmm…" I stared off to the side. "It can happen from now to before the year ends. As far as the target goes? Mouse Protector."

He let out a snort of surprise, before muttering to himself, "Why her…"

"Those reasons spoil the identity of the Master," I replied, "along with this opportunity. Speculation - especially correct speculation - might have the same problematic results."

"Yeah, I understand." He shook his head. "Damn Masters."

While I turned my attention back to my Inventory interface, Armsmaster stood up and walked back to one of his Tinkering benches. I might have imagined it, but his steps seemed more plodding and heavy than before.

Chapter 7 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 7 - INVENTORY Notes

Total Interior Dimensions/Volume

:

- Chapter start: 9 ft x 9 ft x 9 ft = 729 cubic ft

- Chapter end: 10 ft x 10 ft x 10 ft = 1000 cubic ft

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- No un-used power sets available.

Installed Power Sets:

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- All currently available installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

- Faraday cage.

- Prototype graphical user interface template (Tinker-tech software).

Installed Upgrades - Technological- old

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Betamax player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Sound/volume manipulation.

Item Modifications (technology):

- Miniaturize technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Spatial properties adjusting.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

Item State:

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

Power Sources

-[9/9; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available] Armsmaster, Dauntless, Gallant; Triumph, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

-'Airplane' icon for 'airplane mode' for the entire interface on bottom far left corner.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left, to the right of the airplane icon.

Notable Inventory contents:

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brocton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

- A passable full-body costume for Blackbox (upgraded with 1 daily charge).

- A USB key that has some proof-of-concept Tinker-tech software on it.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: Armsmaster, Dauntless, Triumph.

- Wards: Gallant, Aegis, Browbeat, Clockblocker, Kid Win, Vista.

A/N: 1 of 1 chapters. Feedback on total water levels absorbed ([9x9x9 feet = 729 cubic feet] increased to [10x10x10 feet = 1000 cubic feet]) would be welcome, though I *am* being deliberately vague on the various math involved.

Last edited: Jan 20, 2022

8 - Jump Around

A/N: Chapter 1 of 1. Things are picking up! Enjoy!

8 - Jump Around

[April 5th, 2011 - morning]

Apart from fitfully sleeping outside of my unavailable Box, this day started much like yesterday. I went to Armsmaster's lab at his request via a PHO message, catching a ride with other civilian passengers. I was still wracked with paranoia-based anxious nausea on that trip to the Rig, but the luxurious enveloping of my twice-upgraded costume proved to be a passable distraction.

Yesterday, my full-body apparel had looked like a half-decent vintage Halloween costume. After another upgrade charge from late last night, it appeared more suited to a high-production movie set, and fitted me like a well-worn leather body glove. Its comforting heft was reassuring, even though I knew that it still lacked any true protective qualities.

Armsmaster was again busy Tinkering, his only earlier acknowledgements to my arrival being "have a seat" and "don't use the water boots."

While I was curious about his instructions - 'did that system break after only one day's use!?' - that curiosity wasn't enough to prompt me to bother the Tinker.

Instead, I used the time to better examine his lab.

The room was rectangular in shape, with the vault-inspired main door at the far, opposite end. The white-washed ceiling was visible beyond a mix of tightly bundled cables and folded robotic arms, with the latter occasionally whirring into activity at the unspoken commands of the Tinker. The walls and flooring were otherwise plain, corrugated steel, with faint lines and marks that suggested sections that could open to offer other technological wonders. The water boot setup from yesterday was one such exception to the otherwise mostly blank expanses.

Today, two work benches were present, one of which the Tinker was working at. The other held one of his infamous halberds on it, split open with circuitry exposed.

Before I could get too concerned about the wait, one of the robotic arms rose from the vicinity of Armsmaster and sped my way. Its three-pronged hand held what looked like a ear-based microphone setup.

"Equip that, please," the Tinker said, his voice coming from the far table as well as being quietly echoed from the smaller device.

"Got it!" I responded, and tapped the item into my Inventory. A brief search located it in my Grid, and I mentally 'dragged and dropped' it onto my paper-doll figurine.

After a mild crawling sensation on the side of my head, his quieter voice came from the newly placed earpiece.

"I'm very busy," he said, hunched over by his table, "and publicly available equipment still have their uses."

I nodded, only realizing after the fact that he likely couldn't see me.

"Look around if you want," he continued, "just don't touch anything."

My steps away from the light-weight chair led me to yesterday's high-pressure water boots system. They were open far wider than needed to insert a pair of feet into, and some of the inner components had been laid bare by the removal of exterior panelling.

"Small signs of mechanical joint stress began appearing in the piping infrastructure," Armsmaster commented, newly confirming some sort of camera hookup system. "Hardening the entire system and adapting it to higher water-flows wouldn't be worth the needed effort. As is, the projected maintenance cycle will have to be moved up by a minimum of two weeks."

My murmur of acknowledgement was lost in the flaring hiss of a soldering connection, and I made my way closer to where he was working.

He continued speaking when I was an arm's pace away from his hub of activity.

"The possibilities you mentioned yesterday intrigued me."

I blinked, unsure as to what exactly he was referring to.

"Do you know what the biggest needs of a Tinker are, Blackbox?"

A breath went by before I let out my mostly confident answer. "Time, tools, materials?"

"Correct," he replied, helmeted head nodding in agreement. "You could add in spaces to work in, or the physical capacities of the Tinker involved, but those three roughly encompass those definitions as well."

I didn't know where he was going with this.

"So," he continued, "even the possibility of having amiable, regular access to areas of controlled, accelerated time is very attractive."

"… Dispatch?" I finally guessed.

"Exactly," he replied, pausing while a robotic arm carefully turned a small board of circuitry over. "That is part of the reason why I arranged for Strider to make a number of trips today. Some of his teleports will involve visitors coming to the Rig, while others involve you going with him elsewhere. A rather full schedule."

"Huh. Wow."

"No objections?"

"No, not at all!" I flashed him a pair of thumb-ups. "I'll keep you'll updated as to every power-based development that occurs!"

"Good."

Our well-intentioned silence was again broken by his words.

"Both myself and Director Piggot supported today's excursion," he began. "While I'm unaware of what efforts she had expended to get things moving, I played the card of Endbringer-related Tinker-tech to further speed things along. There is a lot at stake here, and normally there would be no chance of a mere 'affiliated' hero getting the treatment you are getting."

I nodded.

"In a sense, you're functioning as a pseudo-representative of the PRT, Protectorate, and myself. Understand?"

"Yes… sir!"

"Good," he replied, echoing his earlier words. "I just sent you a copy of today's schedule over PHO. Go over it. You'll also need to empty most, if not all, of your stored water to accommodate the plans for today. Make sure that is done before your first scheduled meeting with Strider."

"Got it," I said, distracted as I began pulling up my interface. A new WiFi prompt appeared as I looked, and now familiar taps brought me to, and through, PHO's pages to its messaging system. Armsmaster's offering was the sole, unread item.

Blackbox:

Here is the schedule arranged with Strider. All times are Brockton Bay local (Eastern Standard), regardless of where you are travelling to.

10:45 AM:

- Location: Brockton Bay Protectorate HQ ('Rig'), main helicopter landing pad.

- Incoming: Dispatch.

- NOTE: Miss Militia present; she had already agreed to visit your 'Box.'

10:55 AM:

- Incoming: Chevalier.

- Outgoing: Dispatch.

11:05 AM:

- Incoming: Revel.

- Outgoing: Chevalier.

11:15 AM:

- Pickup, Outgoing: Blackbox, Miss Militia, Revel.

- Destination location: Chicago Protectorate HQ, main helicopter landing pad.

- NOTE: Members of the Chicago Protectorate (Myrddin, Shuffle) and Wards (Annex, Cuff, Raymancer) to be present.

- Outgoing: N/A (or Chicago Protectorate/Wards members, per request).

11:30 AM:

- Incoming: Mouse Protector. (*If she shows up.)

- Outgoing: N/A (or Chicago Protectorate/Wards members, per request).

11:40 AM:

- Incoming: Scapegoat.

- Outgoing: Mouse Protector. (*Hopefully.)

11:50 AM:

- Incoming: Gasconade.

- Outgoing: Scapegoat.

12:00 PM:

- Pickup, Outgoing: Gasconade, Blackbox & Miss Militia.

- Destination location: Brockton Bay Protectorate HQ ('Rig'), main helicopter landing pad.

- Outgoing: Gasconade.

6:30 PM:

- Pickup, Outgoing: Blackbox, Miss Militia & Prism.

- Destination location: New York Protectorate HQ, main helicopter landing pad.

- Outgoing: N/A (or New York Protectorate/Wards members, per request).

- NOTE: Members of the New York Protectorate (Legend, Cache, Clay, Ursa Aurora, Kudzu) and Wards (Flechette) to be present.

8:30 PM:

- Pickup, Outgoing: Blackbox & Miss Militia.

- Destination location: Brockton Bay Protectorate HQ ('Rig'), main helicopter landing pad.

- Outgoing: N/A (or Brockton Bay Protectorate/Wards members, per request).

- NOTE: Final scheduled teleport of the day.

On the surface, everything looked great. While I was slightly concerned about the time gaps involved in the day's schedule, the more glaring point was a stand-out name: Scapegoat. My other notes already listed him as a future Fallen cape, but I don't think I had showed Armsmaster those details.

"Ah… about Scapegoat?"

"Healing capes are rare, regardless of their methodologies. Was there something else about him?"

"He becomes a Fallen cape in the future," I replied, prompting a sudden freeze in activity from the Tinker. "Not too sure when, though."

"You didn't disclose this earlier," Armsmaster said, tone filled with accusation. After a single, disparaging head-shake, he resumed his work.

"Yep." I sighed, shuffling in place. Even as comfortable as my integrated boots were, I still felt the pained flush of shame. "Too many little details for far too many people. Sorry."

Our waiting silence was more awkward this time.

"I'll pass those details up," Armsmaster eventually said, shifting his focus onto another piece of small electronics. "Maybe our Thinkers could do something about him, before he becomes a problem."

My only reply was a shrug, as I had no clue what caused the goat-themed parahuman to 'snap,' or even if he was always a deep cover Fallen agent. There were worlds' worth of information I had no clue about, and the more I meddled, the more things diverted off of what my faulty memory could offer.

"What about Miss Militia? Can Brockton Bay spare the cape?"

"We'll make do," the Tinker replied, unconcerned. "She's needed to provide an official stamp of recognition regarding your presence, along with support for some of the other plans of the day. A monitor of your visible interface during the process, as well."

I inwardly grumbled at the idea of having so much exposure to my powers like that, but the 'transparency' of the act likely helped quell some dissent. Keeping silent about that annoyance, I instead asked, "The gaps in the schedule?"

"Exactly," he said. "She knows what needs to be done."

Left unsaid was that I didn't know those details, and I wasn't going to be told them until the required time - if at all. Still, with how generous the day's plans were towards me, I didn't have much of a reason to complain.

"That's fair, I guess."

The Tinker's acknowledgements were lost in the buzz of his work.

"I also have a few items for you for testing purposes," Armsmaster continued, briefly gesturing behind him before his focus went back to in front of him. "Try freezing and thawing your stored water supplies."

"Sure?" I rose an eyebrow under my full-face mask, looking behind the Tinker. There were three large, near-identical metal crates, labelled only with the letters 'A,' 'B,' and 'C,' along with a long metal pole supported by a tripod-like set of three legs, topped by a small, shiny sphere of unknown function.

My following attempt to add them into my Inventory failed as expected, whatever gap I had between ninety-nine and one hundred percent capacity not allowing enough space.

"I'll try freezing then…" I mumbled out loud, scrolling over my Grid to the single inventory square of water.

The pop-up box that formed upon my attentive gaze shimmered briefly before 'Heating' and 'Cooling' options appeared. I selected the latter, repeatedly, and watched as a new temperature indicator number kept on dropping.

Thankfully, it was in familiar degrees Celsius, and changed fast enough that I wasn't bored - though I did back off from Armsmaster to halt the sense of crowding him I was feeling.

When the water 'item' neared a temperature of zero, the familiar stuttering of my interface's filled volume began, bouncing back and forth between ninety-nine and one hundred. Soon, the process completed, and the little representational icon appeared as a solid, cubical block of ice.

"All froze solid," I announced, attention still on my interface. "I'm going to melt it back to water again."

Armsmaster only acknowledged my comments with an affirmative grunt, remaining focused on his own work.

The reverse process was slightly faster, as I didn't have to deal with pushing the limits of expanding my Inventory's total held volume. Instead, the filled amount steadily dropped from ninety-nine to ninety-two percent. While a spark of curiosity tempted me to attempt to heat the water further into steam vapour, I refused that impulse.

"Done," I announced again. "That freed up about eight percent." A walk to back behind the Tinker, along with an intention-filled tap for each of the crates and the standing device, put the four items into my Inventory.

"Please don't examine them," Armsmaster said, gesturing me to go in front of him, "as I'm investigating the possibility of conscious and unconscious biases in the measurements of your extra-dimensional space."

I shrugged, mostly unconcerned, keeping silent while the Tinker worked.

He continued talking after finishing some soldering, glancing up at me before beginning some small, intricate assembly work. "I recommend that you head towards the Rig's main helicopter pad as soon as possible. You can stay here for a while, if you want, but then might have to rush."

I frowned under my mask, bringing my interface window back up and looked at the time: 10:13 AM. A quick check at the PHO message detailing Strider's schedule - which I copied to a personal notepad for easier access - stated that the teleporter was due here at forty-five minutes on this hour.

"Yeah, you're right." I took in one last look of the Tinker's lab, nothing much changed since I first arrived, and offered him a small wave.

A near-instant pause in his work had him return the gesture, missed if I had blinked, and I headed towards the lab's main doors.

"The radio setup you were given will work in most of Brockton Bay," Armsmaster said, speaking from the earpiece I wore. "It is a basic, always-on design. I'll go over a few further instructions once you've met up with Miss Militia - mention my name then, as otherwise I'll be muting your feed."

"Got it," I replied, walking through the automatically opening doors.

"Headed to the roof, Blackbox?" A black-suited PRT trooper asked me, as soon I was out in the hallway.

"Yeah, thanks." I fell into pace beside him.

- [+] -

My escort left me at a pair of over-large double doors clearly labelled as 'Rooftop Access - Helicopter Pad A.'

A burst of wind buffeted me as I opened them, spotting another watchful PRT trooper in a sheltered alcove off to the side. Further in the flat, horizon-like expanse of the roof was the standing figure of who I guessed to be Miss Militia. I headed towards her after nodding towards the guard, a gesture which was returned. Regardless of the ambient temperature, I was comfortable in my upgraded costume.

"Miss Militia?" I spoke loudly, attempting to overcome the muted sounds of the wind's background roaring.

"Blackbox? Hello." She offered a hand, which I shook, and followed her as she moved closer to the roof's edge.

The only concession she had to the wind-chill was a brown leather bomber jacket, appropriately festooned with American military iconography. She didn't wear anything to cover her tied-back hair, with her only nod towards masking-up being the expected red, white, and blue flag-based bandana hiding everything below her eyes.

"Armsmaster briefed me on our plans for today," she continued, leaning against the chest-high concrete barrier that marked the roof edge. "What do you know?"

"Hmm… one sec." A number of taps pulled up my copy of Strider's schedule. I adjusted my interface so that it was publicly visible, and gestured towards it. "I know there are some nebulous plans for the longer gaps, but that's it. You'll also be accompanying me for the day, and were okay for popping into my extra-dimensional space…?"

"Right. Let's get that over with first, then." She offered me her hand, a blur of black-green energy flickering from her hip to form a pistol holstered on her opposite thigh. An intention-filled tap confidently sent her to my Box, and a thought pulled her back to in front of me.

"All good?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied, unconcerned, looking around for a moment before relaxing once more against the roof-edge barrier.

I joined her against it, stretching my arms over the barrier's top lip, and mentally commanded my water supplies to slowly pour out from my hands. A narrow, hose-like jet resulted, the slow blast adding to the wind's background noises. No sense of recoil was generated by the paired, tiny geysers.

I mentally compared the flow of water to the estimated total volume of liquid, and the time we had until Strider appeared. At this rate, I'd have no chance of dumping the whole thing.

'Waterfall,' I willed towards my interface. 'Massive rivers! Yarr!' Other mental imagery followed, and the change was sudden and immediate: a roaring deluge better suited towards a cliff-side's waterfall than a pair of hands loosely held on top of a building's roof.

Tension wracked my body as the clear liquids kept on pouring out, with my arms kept straight, stiff and safely pointed away from the nearby heroine. Whatever distant splashes they'd make onto the waters below went unheard.

"Armsmaster?"

"Blackbox - yes?" His voice came from my earpiece.

"I've met up with Miss Militia," I began, glancing at her when I mentioned her name, "and am in the process of dumping out my water supplies. You mentioned further instructions earlier?"

"Yes." There was pause. "This involves the three crates and the tripod item from my lab."

I mentally scrolled over to where they were in my Grid.

"First, bring them all out onto the roof beside you, once it is safe to do so."

An examination of my still gushing hands stymied that option.

"When your Box is stable - after you've chosen to stop emptying water, or it has been emptied altogether - bring the tripod and the crate lettered 'A' into your space. Tap the letter and wait, beside them. It should make a beeping noise in under ten seconds. Then, bring them both out, and bring in crate 'B' with the tripod, repeating the same button pressing process. Again with crate 'C,' which might take a slight while longer."

I peered over the edge, the waterfall turning into diffuse, spread-out mist as it fell far below.

"At that point," Armsmaster continued, "they have no further purpose. Keep them stored in your 'Grid' and I'll reuse them as materials later."

Brimming over with curiosity about what results the experiment may bring, I acknowledged his words, "Got it, Armsmaster. Thanks."

"Acknowledged. Armsmaster out."

A short while later, the overwhelming quantity slowed down to a hose-like flow, and I mentally directed it to be cut off before my water supplies were zeroed. An emergency stash of water, even if fresh from Brockton's Bay, might be useful in the future.

Another glance at my interface had the filled volume back down to the 'below one percent' mark, giving me plenty of space to work with.

"All done?"

"Yeah," I replied. "How much time do we have?"

Miss Militia pulled back a jacket sleeve to look at a camo-themed wrist-watch. "Under five minutes," she said. "We should get into position."

"Hold on a bit," I said, "Armsmaster wanted me to do a quick experiment."

"Sure." She settled back against the roof's edge, while I panned over to where the letter-labelled crates were stored. A thought had them brought onto the roof-top beside us, one by one, and I began following the Tinker's instructions.

Each of the three hops into my Box took less than thirty seconds, the only remarkable thing about the experience being the utter mundanity about the process.

"Done now," I said, and followed Miss Militia as we walked on the bright yellow wide-painted patterns on the roof, as they led to the crossed mid-point of multiple, larger circles.

"Strider is expected here." Miss Militia indicated the circle's exact center, a flicker of black-green energy wafting around her before disappearing under her clothes. "Keep your interface up and visible."

"Mmm-hmm." Regardless of my disliking the requirement, this was neither the time or place to argue against it. I pulled up my Inventory interface, double-checking the visibility settings, gaining me a bandanna-cloaked nod of approval from the weaponry-themed parahuman.

Untracked moments later, a blue dot flashed into existence, before quickly expanding into a brighter outline that revealed two figures that immediately started walking our way.

'Dispatch and Strider,' I assumed, taking the pair in as we went closer to meet them. The one I guessed to be Strider was wearing a mixed blues-coloured costume themed around a professional chauffeur - fancy little cap and goggles included - mixed with the jagged edges of a stylized lightning bolt, flavoured further with a techno-athletic runner vibe. It left only his smooth-shaven face free, pale skin suggesting youth and limited exposure to sun.

Dispatch's costume, alternatively, was all-enclosing, stopping any hint of the figure below from being seen. It was more bulky than fitted, reminiscent of heavy, layered clothing, with chrome-like, shiny metal points rising from his shoulders and the brows of his frown-sculpted mask.

Miss Militia spoke first. "Strider, thank you. Dispatch, great to see you again. Were you briefed about Blackbox?" She indicated myself.

"Hey there!" I offered both a wave with my greeting, Strider returning it and Dispatch merely nodding. The latter went closer to the weaponry-themed heroine, while the teleporter approached me.

"Blackbox?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in a bit of a rush - always! - but I was convinced to spare a few seconds for you. Something about flashing in and out of your extra-dimensional space…?"

I froze for a moment, surprised, as I hadn't expected the mass teleporter to be included with today's plans. "Uh… yeah, sure? I just tap you, send you in, then pull you back out?"

A white-gloved hand was thrust my way, paired with his hurried comment of, "C'mon, then!"

Still reeling with surprise, I managed to gather enough focus to touch and direct him to the blank expanse of my Box. Another quick thought brought him out, with his shoulder under my hands.

He didn't even take a step away before he tapped his chauffeur's cap in dismissal, disappearing in a collapsing flash of blue light right in front of me.

"Blackbox!" Miss Militia called me over, beckoning towards the pair. "Dispatch is ready!"

"Hey again," I said, coming to a stop opposite them. "That's my interface here," I continued, gesturing towards the hovering rectangle that had kept pace with me. "Everything okay?"

Miss Militia's nodded reply was quicker than the time-accelerating-bubble maker's, though he soon extended his white-material covered arm my way. "Whenever you're ready."

"Okay…" I pointed out to where I expected him to show up on my Inventory Grid to Miss Militia, and carefully willed the hero into my Box when I touched his arm.

Another thought quickly pulled him out, in much the same position.

"That's it?"

"Yep!" I flashed him a pair of thumb-ups. "That's it!"

The perpetual frowning expression of his mask didn't serve to indicate if he was pleased or not with the experience, though his huff-like sigh may have meant surprise of some sort.

"Do you still need to see…?" I asked Miss Militia, indicating my interface.

"No, that's fine." She answered, then turned back to Dispatch. "We've got a few minutes before Strider is meant to arrive again - how is Houston doing?"

I gave the pair some space as they began to bring up names and times I had no reference for, while I turned the public visibility of my interface off. Some nervous excitement rushed through my veins as I thought of my three newest 'acquisitions': Miss Militia, Strider, and Dispatch.

The 'Power Sources' screen was run through without much attention, as I simply assigned the new set of triple options to 'Dynamic/As Needed' that all the others already had.

The 'Power Sets' box revealed the more serious choices.

Power Sets:

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item. [Not Applicable: enhanced weapon use; removed sleep requirement; enhanced memory.]

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

I couldn't do much apart from grumble at the reaffirmation of my 'limits': no easy teleporting around the world, as well as no shortcuts to getter a better grasp on my memory. Losing access to being free from sleeping or dreaming was a toss-up, though.

Not seeing any down-sides to the listed powers, I installed them all.

I didn't have any further time to test them out, as Strider had popped back into sight with a flash of blue light, accompanied by another figure.

'Time to… socialize, I guess?' Hopefully, that would be my most dreaded experience of the day.

- [+] -

Dispatch's leaving brought in Chevalier.

The silver-and-gold armored man may have stared at me overlong, perhaps owing to his very secret, hush-hush, parahuman power sight. I wisely didn't press for reasons for his apparent curiosity, nor 'volunteer' details of my anti-Master and Thinker abilities like I did with my first encounter with Gallant.

Revel was teleported in, with Chevalier then departing.

She came across as yet one more very serious individual, decked out with a belt-covered crimson kimono. Like Chevalier with his massive 'cannon-blade,' she was also paired with an iconic piece of equipment. In her case, it was a deceptively simple paper-lantern-like light hanging from an unadorned staff that she casually rested over her shoulders.

When Strider appeared again, all three of us non-teleporters joined him on the next trip out. The point-to-point travel experience could be summed up as being stuck in bright blue light for a span of moments.

The Chicago Protectorate's roof-based landing pad was similar in appearance to Brockton Bay's, though smaller, and other buildings lay all around it instead of the blank stretch of the Bay's waters.

Revel and Strider both left us then, with the lantern-swinging parahuman's exit bringing in a small parade of other notables.

Myrddin was the most well-known of the batch, dressed as an archetypical wizard, with his introductions of Shuffle - another Chicago Protectorate member - and Annex, Cuff, and Raymancer - local Wards - proceeding at a fast pace.

Our greetings and their brief travels into my Box went smoothly, with perhaps the most painful things being my non-attempts at small talk.

Mouse Protector's arrival caused a brief stir, with the older Protectorate members' reactions hinting of resignation while the younger Wards seemed more interested or excited about her.

Apart from going in my Box, and another touch by her that was likely a teleport-tag-marking of my costume, she spent most of her time bothering Miss Militia. Myrddin provided conversational support to the military-themed cape, but apart from the regular model rotations of her black-green weaponry, she didn't seem to be outwardly suffering from the attention.

The next appearance of Strider brought in Scapegoat, with Mouse Protector's planned exit not being contested by the pun-wielding heroine.

No additional attention was given to the goat-themed parahuman, as I guessed whatever warnings Armsmaster had passed up the chain had yet to be acted upon.

His teleport-based exit followed the arrival of Gasconade.

He was the first cape I was utterly fascinated by, as regardless of his supposed 'ordinary man' core appearance of a blond-haired, square-jawed figure, his body was made up of an assortment of two-dimensional images that created his fragmented silhouette.

'Transhumanism envy - check!'

Like most of the other arrivals, he used the time more as a brief social opportunity for reconnecting than as a strictly planned activity. My lack of informed social graces, combined with an honest ignorance of Armsmaster's Tinkering plans, led to me being mostly ignored in favour of the more well-known Miss Militia.

No other Protectorate capes were brought in for Strider's pick-up of Gasconade, and the teleporter's next appearance, a few minutes later, brought Miss Militia and myself back to Brockton Bay.

Upon arrival, the brief crackle of my ear-piece preceded Armsmaster's voice. "Blackbox - come to my lab as soon as possible."

Miss Militia escorted me this time.

- [+] -

"Report." Armsmaster directed me as soon as I had settled in front of the Tinker, his lightly hunched posture and position nearly identical to where I saw him last, hours ago.

"Okay…" I let out a deep breath. "Apart from 'installing' the first three sets of powers from Miss Militia, Strider, and Dispatch, I haven't had a chance to work with the others yet. I don't know if you wanted to see that process, or…?"

He continued working on his current tangle of fine wiring for a moment before replying. "That won't be necessary. Thank you. Set it up however you want, then present your final conclusions. I'll go over the 'crates' experiment from before as well, at that time. Don't take too long."

"Got it."

Leaving him to his work, I found a nearby stool and double-checked that the visibility of my Interface was set for me alone.

More taps led me to choose 'Dynamic/As Needed' for the remainder of the day's parahuman 'Power Sources,' and I then went to another very anticipated list.

Power Sets:

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation. [Not Applicable: enhanced physique; post-damage resistance boost.]

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory). [Not Applicable: enhanced agility, coordination, stamina.]

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens. [Not Applicable: energy beams.]

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs. [Not Applicable: flight.]

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

More restrictions were very clearly laid out, though I did find the portalling ability of the wizardry-themed Myrddin to be the most interesting. While his official Protectorate bio - along with my memory of his actions in Worm - implied that the cape had the ability to fly, that specific power wasn't listed. Going by what was listed, it implied that his flight was more likely due to creative uses of his portals.

Since I didn't see anything I didn't want, I again chose to 'install' them all. I looked up the results, which briefly highlighted the new entries before their text appeared identical to the others.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Interface Modification:

- Accelerate time.

- Sound/volume manipulation.

- Teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

Item Modifications (all):

- [Go-to] teleport tagging (Inventory interior).

- [Mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Undo (reverse prior 30 seconds).

Item Modifications (areas):

- [landbound] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Item Modifications (technology):

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Miniaturize technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects.

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Selectively combine multiple properties into one item.

- Spatial properties adjusting.

- Spatial shaping adjustment.

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Modifications (metals):

- Metal manipulation; metallokinesis.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

- View metaphorical power representation.

- View (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

Item State:

- Install/uninstall into item.

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Accelerated time bubble (unstable).

- Bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Light-energy refining/condensing lens (unstable).

- Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory).

- [unspecified] energies (highly unstable).

- [unspecified] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Variable charge, programmable energy orbs (unstable).

Rather than spend any more time experimenting, I turned the visibility of my interface back up to its highest setting. A few steps brought me closer to the Tinker, and the displayed screen soon caught his attention.

His thoughtful examination ended with a request. "Try making a bubble of accelerated time."

He went back to his work, while I snapped my gaze over to an empty square on my Grid.

The prompt that appeared there matched the 'New Items' list of the 'Installed Upgrades' selection. After choosing the time bubble option, a customization box appeared.

Accelerated Time Bubble

Size: - 10 cm3 diameter +

Chronological multiplier: - 2x +

Stability: (unstable)

[Create]

I left the size value alone, instead tapping up the time multiplier to ten, then hit 'Create.'

A swirling, multi-coloured sphere immediately popped into existence in that Grid square, briefly distracting me before I focused on it again.

Accelerated Time Bubble (unstable)

Size: 10 cm3

Chronological multiplier: 10x

[Edit]

'No surprises there,' I mused, though I didn't want to give the Tinker an 'unstable' item. The sphere's opaque nature was also problematic.

At least the latter part might be solved with minimal fuss. "Armsmaster? Could I have a small piece of lightly tinted glass or plastic or something?"

Focusing back on the sphere, I mentally tapped the 'Edit' button. A new, expanded selection popped up.

Accelerated Time Bubble (unstable)

Size: - 10 cm3 diameter +

Chronological multiplier: - 10x +

Go-to teleport tagged? [no]

Adjust spatial properties? [launch interface]

Combine with item properties? [select item]

Upgrade item? [0/1 daily charges]

Temporal stasis? [no]

My focused gaze of irritation upon the 'daily charges' line caused it to shimmer in a now-familiar way, changing the bracketed text to the simple prompt of 'upgrade.'

'I guess that I have infinite upgrades now…?!' My choked laugh of shocked surprise didn't prevent me from tapping the option, adding a new line below it with the current count of one.

Before I could go any further, a robotic arm whirred into position in front of me, presenting a slightly blue tinted square of glass. I took it, adding it to my Grid, then selected the 'Combine' option for the time bubble. The glass piece was selected, and a new, text-heavy interface appeared.

It seemed to list various physical properties, such as weight, density, hardness, and more, with additional lines of text popping into existence even while I was reading them.

Not wanting to get too lost in speculative thinking, I tapped all the choices relating to visual transparency.

Once I finalized my selection, the time bubble's appearance immediately shifted from its prior mish-max of opaque multi-coloured wonder to a much more mundane-looking sphere of tinted glass.

"Be right back," I said, waving to Armsmaster, and willed myself into my Box.

The black, empty square that was my extra-dimensional space had moderately ballooned out with my water-filling attempts of yesterday, creating slightly more of a cavernous feeling.

Ignoring any sense of unease the empty space gave me, I carefully laid myself flat on my stomach on the black ground, and mentally directed the lightly tinted sphere to appear in front of me.

A cautious poke with a costume-gloved finger did nothing, and neither did more vigorous prodding attempts.

'Kinda useless without a means of entry, eh?'

I searched through my 'Installed Upgrades' list for possible solutions.

The simplest one would be making the sphere significantly larger, and bringing myself directly into it via Inventory means - however, that method wouldn't work for anyone apart from myself. Air flow would also be a factor. More practical means would include recurring teleportation or portals.

They were dismissed as being too complicated, with the added risk factors of possibly not even working.

A moment of inspiration occurred when I looked at my remaining supply of water - would it be possible to make the sphere's barrier as permeable as that liquid?!

I tried that out by mentally separating out a small blob of water onto a new Grid square, then going back to the 'Edit' menu of the time bubble. After a few clicks, and scrolling down an exhaustive list of physical properties, I picked out all the traits relating to density and hardness as possible.

Finalized, the sheen on the clear sphere in front of me subtly shifted.

Rather than poke the likely permeable object, I panned through my Inventory Grid for a safe alternative - a pencil sufficed - and used it.

'Success!'

The pencil appeared to move through the time bubble in a 'laggy' way, as if there was some sort of drag or resistance to my pulls and pushes. Visual distortions matched that same sense of lag, likely due to how light reflections worked.

I soon sent it and the bubble back to my Grid, and willed myself back to the Tinker's lab.

"I think I have something you'll be pleased with," I began, speaking to his down-turned head. "Where do you want it?"

I gestured with my hands as to the rough size of the sphere once he looked up.

"Here is fine," Armsmaster said, after clearing one side of his desk.

As soon as I mentally directed the time bubble to the spot via my outstretched hand, I began extolling its virtues. "I'm able to modify the interior time rate, from a starting value of two times to an unchecked maximum. Size is also scalable - this was the default smallest." A breath. "I combined it with the physical traits of the piece of glass you gave to adjust its visibility, along with water for its permeability. A single upgrade changed it from an originally 'unstable' item to its current 'stable' status."

The Tinker nodded, not interrupting his waving of some small piece of electronics over the bubble.

"Are there any limits on how many of these you could produce? Like the the once-daily upgrade restriction?"

"Ah…" I swallowed, pausing. "Good news… I think? As far as I'm aware, a side-effect of installing Dispatch's power is uncapping the time-based limit on recharging."

He paused in his activities. "Unlimited?"

"Yep!" I smiled under my face covering. "That counts for my costume, your Tinker-tech - everything!"

"Oh." His neatly trimmed chin outlined his expression of surprise. "This is… very good. Very impressive." His helmet turned to face me. "Fantastic work, Blackbox. Thank you."

"Of course, sir."

"What does this mean for upgrading my Tinker-tech, then?"

I shrugged. "Pending insane time requests, I'm fine for most anything you want."

"I see… very good, indeed."

While his thoughts likely wandered around his own equipment, my own were concerned about what unlimited upgrades meant for my own items, such as my costume. I was also curious about what my upgrades meant for other iconic parahuman power-based iconic items, such as Miss Militia's own multi-item, or any of Dauntless' partially charged pieces; Revel had her 'lantern on a stick,' Brandish her energy-based weaponry, and Chevalier's multi-combined items. There was near-unlimited opportunity here! Even the simple pick of 'costumes' expanded my possible selection to nearly every single parahuman on the planet!

It might be time to renegotiate my contract, very soon.

The mild background sense of abject terror I've had since realizing I was in Worm's Earth Bet was very lightly dimming.

Chapter 8 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 8 - INVENTORY Notes

Total Interior Dimensions/Volume

:

- Chapter start: 10 ft x 10 ft x 10 ft = 1000 cubic ft

- Chapter end: ~ 1080 cubic ft

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- No un-used power sets available.

Installed Power Sets - New:

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation. [Not Applicable: enhanced physique; post-damage resistance boost.]

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item. [Not Applicable: enhanced weapon use; removed sleep requirement; enhanced memory.]

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory). [Not Applicable: enhanced agility, coordination, stamina.]

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens. [Not Applicable: energy beams.]

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs. [Not Applicable: flight.]

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- All currently available installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological- old

- Faraday cage.

- Prototype graphical user interface template (Tinker-tech software).

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Beta-mix player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Accelerate time.

- Sound/volume manipulation.

- Teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

Item Modifications (all):

- [Go-to] teleport tagging (Inventory interior).

- [Mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Undo (reverse prior 30 seconds).

Item Modifications (areas):

- [landbound] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Item Modifications (technology):

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Miniaturize technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects.

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Selectively combine multiple properties into one item.

- Spatial properties adjusting.

- Spatial shaping adjustment.

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Modifications (metals):

- Metal manipulation; metallokinesis.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

- View metaphorical power representation.

- View (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

Item State:

- Install/uninstall into item.

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Accelerated time bubble (unstable).

- Bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Light-energy refining/condensing lens (unstable).

- Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory).

- [unspecified] energies (highly unstable).

- [unspecified] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Variable charge, programmable energy orbs (unstable).

Power Sources

-[21/21; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available].

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

-'Airplane' icon for 'airplane mode' for the entire interface on bottom far left corner.

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left, to the right of the airplane icon.

Notable Inventory contents:

- A movie-set worthy full-body costume for Blackbox (upgraded with 2 daily charges).

- Three (3) labelled metal crates ('A', 'B', 'C').

- Some sort of spherical device mounted on a tripod pole.

- Water.

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Metal furniture: a room's worth.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brocton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

- A USB key that has some proof-of-concept Tinker-tech software on it.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: (see other lists).

- Wards: (see other lists).

A/N: Would have been 2 chapters except for sudden 'life interuptus', as they say. Any takers/ideas for how Armsmaster will develop?

9 - Pace Making

A/N: Here, we, goooooooo! (1 of 1 chapters this month.)

9 - Pace Making

[April 5th, 2011 - early afternoon]

If whatever pace Armsmaster was previously working at had been his 'normal,' his current movements put that speed to shame.

A multitude of items, most appearing to be hand-sized obvious Tinker-tech creations, passed through his gauntleted hands to interact with his desk-bound bubble of accelerated time.

All the while, he kept up a very quiet stream of murmured commentary. I caught the odd word, such as "viable," "test later," and "unacceptable." When he finally addressed me in a more even tone of voice, I completely missed what he said.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said, while I wouldn't be willing to develop software for your interface, I've already located the source code for the sensory hardware you've installed, along with some of your more modern pieces. A moderately capable computer science graduate would be capable of assembling it into something suitable."

"Mmm. Right." While true, a more conventional programmer would take time: likely days, at the minimum. Regardless of that delay, the grunt work of simply finding that esoteric mix of software was already a time-saving boon. "Thanks. Links on PHO?"

"Not currently…" His work paused for an instant. "Done. Check your messages."

I worked through my interface to find the WiFi prompt, and just began the labourous process of manually writing in the login information before I had a better idea: I pressed the strip against the blank password field, and it auto-filled instead. The only unusual aspect of the exchange was the familiar heat-like flickering haze.

"Before you spend any time there, I'd like the crates and scanning device back," he said. "I can explain their purposes as well."

"Okay?" A quick scan through my Grid located the items, and I followed his waved directions to place them behind the Tinker.

He started his explanation while still focused on his own Tinkering. "They were three equally sized containers, with the first full of water, the second containment foam, and the third empty - with a foam grenade primed inside it. The other item was a simple, though highly precise, omni-directional scanner primed to measure and record the interior dimensions of a room."

"The results of using the foam and water filled crates were identical," he continued, "in that they displaced a volume, equal to their own, reducing your available free space. The empty crate only displaced a volume equal to the exact combined mass of the container itself - the interior was ignored."

Most of this was expected, but I did nod along in agreement. The possibilities of using the water-to-ice 'trick' was something I'd aim to work with once I was able to gain more effective access to water.

"The new results came from the expansion of foam inside that formerly empty container - it ended up being identical to the other, already filled crates."

"All right," I slowly spoke, "I'm seeing the potential for bringing in substances that can be boosted in volume - water to ice, foam, whatever… but was there some other conclusion I was missing?"

"Yes."

He let me stew in curiosity before continuing.

"Have you considered what would happen if your powers gave you the ability to create solid substances? That you could create 'new items' that would stop your requirement for externally sourcing materials to increase your internal maximum volume?"

"Huh." I scratched my chin through the fabric of my costume. "That would eliminate the need for getting faster intake systems as well - even a simple 'water creation' power could likely be scaled up faster than whatever intake system could be designed…" I paced back in forth, considering the implications. "Hell, even in Brockton Bay, there's… let me think… not that many, actually. My only guess would be the Empire's Kaiser - masses of iron, steel, whatever."

"Correct," Armsmaster said. "While I'd also add in Fenja and Menja, their power-based volumetric expansions might not suitably qualify."

"Hmm. Right. Thank you."

He acknowledged my gratitude with a wave, and I went back to my web browser. A number of taps took me into PHO, and his latest message. It was a massive list of links, each paired with a cut-and-paste appearing small summary description, as well as more technical information, such as release dates and version codes.

My skim-based scrolling stopped mid way, when a thought popped into existence. 'Does software code qualify as 'technology'… !?'

Another, more targeted skimming occurred as I looked for a suitable test subject. It was found in the form of operating code for one of the many temperature sensors, and downloaded. The files were then located in my digital storage, next to the ever-growing recording-of-everything I've never stopped, and examined.

Resistance_Temperature_Detector-ExxyStable_ (stable)

Software

1.3 MB

Install? [yes]

[Edit]

'Looking good so far…' I ignored the 'Install' option for now - 'I can install uncompiled code?!' - instead mentally tapping the 'Edit' button. It brought up a new display.

Resistance_Temperature_Detector-ExxyStable_ (stable) [rename file]

Software

1.3 MB

Hybridize/combine technology? [select item(s)]

Increase technological efficiency? [run efficiency-increasing process]

Miniaturize technology? [run miniaturization process]

Modularize technology? [select multiple items]

The most obvious absence was that of 'Upgrade,' the function that I've already used on my costume, as well as on other Tinker-tech. I already knew that software - collections of code, from their base 'machine code' binary levels to more conversational styles - was a mish-mash of standards, approaches, file types and operating system requirements. To be able to simply skip all that complexity by throwing powers - incremental or single use - at them could, in fact, be the solution to my impatience.

Newly enthused, I went back to the PHO message list and began downloading every single entry.

- [+] -

Dozens of open-source websites.

Hundreds of files.

Thousands of finger pokes.

One result.

NotYourMother' (stable)

Software

1.7 GB

Install? [yes]

[Edit]

Its name was my own concession to edge-lord grade vanity, while the overall file size was the result of many iterations of the 'efficiency' and 'miniaturization' technological upgrades.

One more black gloved finger poke confirmed the installation, and a small, progress-bar-like indicator briefly flashed into visibility before a single, tiny change was made manifest: a tinted rectangle beside the iconic magnifying glass of searches everywhere.

Focusing on that empty search bar, a blue keyboard-appearing box appeared below it.

My first typed entry - scripts - had each letter highlighted as I willed them into place. The conscious direction of the keyboard to hide had it fade away, as I didn't need to use it.

The result of my pick was another blue box appearing, blank except for a single blinking cursor.

'Now, where to begin…?'

- [+] -

My powers had designed a scripting interface that was idiot-proof. I'd know, as my tests of applied idiocy were many and varied.

No matter how vaguely or irrationally I attempted my script-kiddie - no, script-baby - level input, everything seemed to input flawlessly. However, I knew that the true tests were in live-fire exercises.

Code:

Anti-brightness (script) IF brightness = too bright for me THEN send brightness item to Inventory Grid UNTIL brightness is NOT = too bright for me END IF

Armsmaster complained about the light my interface generated, all the while I didn't notice a single thing.

Code:

Anti-Generalized Attacks (script) IF self = touched by ITEM that is = too heavy OR is = too hard OR is = too fast OR is = too sharp THEN send item to Inventory Grid UNLESS item size = too big for Inventory Grid THEN put ONLY touching area of item into Inventory Grid UNLESS touching area of item = too big for Inventory Grid THEN expel random single element item from Inventory Grid UNTIL touching area of item is NOT = too big for Inventory Grid UNLESS unable to expel items from Inventory Grid THEN display message box = "You're fucked." END IF

I followed the same pattern for loud sounds and excessive heat. An anti-bug version was made for being touched by tiny objects, and another dealt with electricity, in an abstract way that ignored volts, amps, and all those other specific terms.

A number of stress-removing automatic defaults were also added. They included ensuring that I was always sent to my Box, instead of the Inventory Grid, and that any items sent to my Grid had the 'stasis' effect applied onto them. I also tweaked another script so that 'living biologicals' of at least one-third my size were always sent to the Box - settings that I'd likely change as soon as today's teleport-based sampling frenzy was done. To reduce my repetitive mental efforts even further, I set things up so that physically touching anything with two fingers transferred them into my Inventory. Their respective destinations would already be handled by the defaults of the other scripts.

With that done, my next focus was my costume.

'Lets see if Armsy has any interesting sample materials…'

"Armsmaster?"

He replied without looking up. "Yes?"

"I'm planning on upgrading my costume, via the same sort of traits transferring that was done on the time bubble." A glance at the translucent sphere showed that some sort of small, glowing lights-adorned pole lay all the way through it. "Do you have any tiny, non-Tinker-tech samples of… say… substances that are super-hard, dense, soft, heat-resistant and so on?" I clenched my hands, then flexed the gloved fingers wide. "Elastic?"

"I'll send something your way."

'No rush,' I thought, shrugging. The idea of a possible form of encouragement prompted me to say more. "You could also think of what you'd want for an under-armour layer - same concept. I'd be okay with assembling a custom piece for you."

"Understood. Thank you."

The next stretch of time had me rapid-fire hitting 'Upgrade,' examining the empowered piece, then 'Undoing' it to repeat the process. Each repetitive iteration gave myself an idea of how 'random' these upgrades were, and what I could expect for my final choices.

Before I could commit further, a robotic arm whirred over towards where I was sitting. It held a narrow, rectangular case, which I accepted, and popped it open with a satisfying click.

Inside were small beads - barely larger than peas - wrapped in ribbon-like strips of paper.

The first one I pulled out was a dull grey sphere, its irregular shape marred further by a dot of glue that held the paper strip to it. Unfurling the curled white length, I read the brief line of printed text.

Tungsten. Highest melting and boiling point.

'Interesting…'

I two-finger-tapped it, sending the sample and its attached information strip to my Grid.

Through the next bout of sampling the well over two dozen pieces, the ones that stood out for me the most were osium, for highest density; silver, for electric conductivity; aerogel, for low thermal conductivity and weight; Teflon, for low conduction and high electric resistance; talc, for softness; silicone rubber, for high elasticity; and a tiny diamond speck, for hardness and highest thermal conductivity. I stored all of them the same way.

The most obvious problems were how two extreme traits would be paired together in something I wore. For example, I could want the opposing soft and hard qualities of talc and diamonds, respectively, but currently lacked a means to 'smartly' apply those qualities to a single, continuous item such as my costume. It was also possible that a very specific, targeted copying of traits could side-step those problems.

Pulling up a stop-watch-like prompt from my interface, I prepped myself for a series of experiments, undo-button tapping, and far more than I wanted to know about material sciences.

- [+] -

The results of my interim work were viewed on my posed, paper-doll display, as well as a much more descriptive blue box.

Blackbox's Costume (stable)

Clothing

Conductivity, Thermal: as per aerogel.

Conductivity, Electric: as per Teflon.

Density: as per osium.

Elasticity: as per silicone rubber.

Melting & Boiling Point: as per tungsten.

Weight: as per aerogel.

Upgraded: durability, Inventory responsiveness, appearance.

[Edit]

Once I had hit triple digits on the upgrades, I hadn't wanted to see the exact numbers anymore, so they were no longer displayed. The same sort of reduction-based simplicity was present in the copied material traits, as I had no desire to see massive lists of measurements and material properties.

I appeared to be wearing a near-absolute black bodysuit, but closer examination revealed that the dark colour was instead a lightly churning mix of heavily tinted patterns reminiscent of iridescent oil slicks. It was fitted like a closely tailored bodysuit, with the exception of a much tighter connection from my neck upwards. The fabric-like substance was contoured to the shape of my entire head, moving in unison with the smallest of my facial expressions, preventing an air of inhumanity that a solid, featureless mask may have provided. Additionally, I could see, hear, and breathe perfectly through my facial coverings, and suspected further that some sort of Inventory-based filtering helped.

The most obvious contrasting mark on my costume was the white square on my chest. Simple no longer, it held a dim glow suggestive of a mild neon tube light. Small pulses and ripples randomly drifted over its finger-width lines, partially evoking the hazy updates that I had seen on my Inventory interface.

It was in this state of metaphorical - or perhaps literal - naval gazing that Armsmaster caught my attention.

"Blackbox?"

"Yes?"

"You'll need to meet up with Miss Militia again. You'll be accompanying her to a house here in the city, where Prism is already near to, picking up the residents and all their possessions, and coming back here in time for the five-thirty appointment with Strider heading to New York. Any questions?"

I had a few obvious ones, such as 'who are we picking up?', but couldn't push myself to voice them. Instead, I asked, "is any sort of… ah… violent opposition expected?"

A part of me was looking forward to no-selling various parahuman opponents, but I was still self-conscious enough to know that I was far from invulnerable. My musings turned to apprehension when I noticed that Armsmaster was taking overlong in replying - his full attention was silently directed my way, blue and silver clad arms resting in a state of immobility on the desk in front of him.

"Hmm?" I pushed him further.

"Keeping the transportees safe is the highest priority," he eventually offered, side-stepping my question entirely.

"Okay…?"

"That's all." For perhaps the first time since I entered his lab today, Armsmaster continued his focus on me personally, instead of via a camera hookup. "Good looking costume. Professional, though it comes across as either Tinker-tech or power generated. Was that your intention?"

My non-reply was a shrug. "Thanks," I said, still a bit jarred by the tone shift. "Remember what I said about your own under-armour, right? The offer still stands."

"I remember," he said, turning back to the collection of electronics on his desk. "I expect to have some batches of Tinker-tech ready for you in the next few days."

"Got it…" I stood there, awkwardly, wondering if some more closure was needed, before the unspoken pressure drove me to leave with a wave and a distracted parting message.

Outside his lab, I soon found a free PRT trooper and was escorted to the Rig's garage level.

- [+] -

Rather than her canon - fanon? - implied motorcycle, we left the Rig's garages in an outwardly unobtrusive white delivery van. The abnormal thickness of the doors and the high levels of window tinting were the only indicators that the vehicle was something unusual.

I was allowed to sit beside Miss Militia, riding 'shotgun' as it were, and used my first real time to take in the sights to act like a rubber-necking tourist.

"You're not familiar with Brockton Bay?" She asked.

"Nah," I replied, watching the glimmer of the force-field bridge disappear in the rear-view mirrors as we turned a corner.

"What brought you here, anyways?"

I debated how honest to be. In the end, I settled on polite distance. "That's complicated. How much has Armsmaster told you about me?"

"Not much, unfortunately," she said, glancing at me before returning her attention to the road. "The most unusual things were how your personal extra-dimensional space could expand, as well as your interface - and how some items could be 'installed' into it?"

"Right," I replied, nodding. "Well, there's a lot more to my story. I'm currently helping out the Tinker with a number of projects, just like he is with me."

"All that for a newly 'affiliated' hero?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

A number of streets passed by in silence, interrupted only by the driven over clunks of pot holes the van's suspension system handled without issues. A wide disparity of apparent wealth was visible, the transition jarring from one neighbourhood to the next. High-fenced yards made way for desolate, over-grown parking lots, and the unlit ruins of abandoned buildings were peppered among everything - small residential houses through large industrial complexes.

"You seemed rather distant earlier."

"Oh?" I considered her comments. "Yeah? I think so? Is that okay?"

"Sure," she replied. "Just curious. Most new heroes are eager to put themselves into the spotlight - recklessly, if not dangerously."

"Hmm." I shifted in position, adjusting the seat-belt. "I'd like to think I'm rather careful. Confidence in my powers would go a long way." Left unsaid was also the gaining of new powers. A further internal irritant was the implications that I knew the weaponry themed parahuman, an impression granted through reading her point of view chapter materials, along with varied fan takes and wiki summaries. Many of those circumstances arose during times of high stress or emotions, not the more mundane moments of sitting in traffic.

"I agree with you," she said. "Getting a whole new suite of options mixed with the mindset of a fresh trigger is… unpleasant."

Her slight pause had more meaning when I considered her near-perfect memory, along with the child mine-sweeper circumstances her own powers had emerged from.

"So!" I lightly clapped my gloved hands. "Change of topic! What can you tell me about our little excursion here?"

Miss Militia launched into a more impersonally delivered summary.

Supporting what Armsmaster had said earlier, we were going to be picking up a family and all their possessions. However, rather then Purity and her two kids - an uncertain guess of mine - the pick was the esteemed precognitive, Dinah Alcott, along with both her parents. Apparently, some clandestine communication had been going on between the Tinker and Dinah with the purpose of making their safe extraction a priority. Her parents had been left out of the loop due to risks of leaks via Coil's time-line-like abilities.

My job was merely to act as a glorified moving van. I'd be stashing literally everything I could from the Alcott's house, from their cars to their cutlery, along with the family themselves. Our particular schedule was put in place to work with the ever-busy Strider, along with the more mundane work and school hours of my guests-to-be.

The requirement for my storage space to be nearly empty now made a lot more sense.

To further reduce the chance of leaks, PRT trooper involvement in this operation was at an all time-low. Instead, Prism had been unofficially drafted into one of the oversight roles. Miss Militia didn't even know who else, if anyone, was attached to the task. The three-in-one cape had made a stop-over in Brockton Bay with the legitimate cover story of a social encounter.

My memories supplied further details there: Prism was the New York-based girlfriend of Brockton Bay local Triumph, but their relationship was far from the well-storied reception Legend had with his non-parahuman partner.

While Miss Militia talked, I went through my interface to edit my scripts, in order to ensure touched living beings were put safely into Grid-based stasis rather than the empty expanse of my Box. I'd change it back, later, as needed.

The explanations had finished by the time we pulled into a pleasant-looking suburban street, filled with squat two story houses surrounded by cookie-cutter stretches of well-maintained, decorative gardens.

Our stop had the van turn into one of those generic lots, perhaps different only in the colours of the flowers by the front windows.

"Three-P, this is two-M." Miss Militia spoke out loud, after tapping the opposite side of her head. "We're in position."

Moments later, a paired set of double knocks rang out beside her. Green-black energy shifted into an assault rifle on her lap, before dissolving into a form out of my sight.

Removing her seat-belt, she cracked open her door, then turned back to me. "Leave the vehicle, and store it. One less continued sign of our presence."

"Got it." I gave her a two-fingered salute, then unbuckled myself and left the vehicle.

As two costumed figures walked around the front of the van, I tapped it with a double-finger pair and it disappeared.

The sudden action caused the others to briefly pause, with Miss Militia recovering first. I used the time to take in who I assumed was Prism.

A quick head-to-toe scan pointed out the obvious: a upper-portioned face mask, fair skin with long blond hair, with an athletic figure that was highlighted by her skin-tight costume of multiple colours - likely matching the output of light through a more conventional glass prism. Thankfully, her costume was not painted-on levels of close-fitting. The last detail I noticed before I yanked my attention away was a single ankle holster, holding a small, matte-black pistol.

"Blackbox, right?" She held out a hand my way, smiling. "I'm Prism. Great costume!"

"Thanks," I replied, forming a small smile at the praise. "Yours is… ah…" I coughed. "Also very flattering. Yes?"

She let out what was likely a well-practiced laugh, at which point I had noticed she was still holding my hand.

"Hmm?" My confused mumble let out.

"I thought to do that thing about going into your 'Box'? It's for Armsmaster?"

"Oh. Right." I cleared my throat. "One sec." I reached over and tapped her with two fingers, then willed her back into position.

Two identical copies of her then walked out of her body, each headed in opposite directions. The sole remainder flashed me a wide smile, then went to join Miss Militia as the pair confidently strode to the front door.

More cautiously, I followed, panning my gaze over the street behind us before I caught up.

"What's my involvement here?" I stage-whispered.

"Not much," Miss Militia replied, her tone of voice more normal. "As soon as we get the okay from the Alcotts, store the three of them and work your way through the house. There isn't the time for any sort of organization, so just try to grab everything."

"Got it."

"Include the garage's vehicles, too," she added, then made the final steps to the main entrance. The doorbell was rung, marked by an inner chime of sound and lights marking the silhouette of an approaching figure.

Following a pause, a non-descript, if well-preserved, middle aged man opened the door.

"Miss Militia? Prism? What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Alcott?" Miss Militia replied first. "Can we please come inside? This is a matter of some urgency."

I tuned out the rest of their conversation, glancing behind me once more before I followed the trio indoors.

As they walked deeper into the house, voices were heard from a brighter room where the scents of a meal came from. I paused only long enough to lock the door behind us, dead-bolt and lock chain providing a measure of security more psychological than real.

"Dear? We have some guests from the Protectorate!"

A quieter murmur of talking followed that louder burst, inaudible from my position.

I hung out in the living room - more 'lurking,' than anything else - peering through drape-covered windows in a futile attempt at preventative oversight.

Cautious prodding confirmed the plushness of the long, L-shaped sofa, though its bright white finish suggested either a wholly decorative use, stringent cleaning policies, or both. Shuffling on the carpet, while fun, had the unexpected boon of proving that I could not accumulate static electricity. A small indicator - maybe! - of at least one of my interface scripts working as indicated.

Soon enough, the ebb and flow of conversation slowed and stilled.

My name was called in that silence. "Blackbox!" It sounded like Miss Militia.

I strode over to the light-illuminated kitchen threshold. "Yeah?"

"They're ready."

The middle-aged couple, along with their daughter, sat at a large, round table. Plates of food were present at their three spots, along with larger serving dishes in the middle. The couple was looking rather shell-shocked, staring at their meals in shared silence, while Dinah appeared relaxed enough to only glance at me before continuing eating.

"Who's first?" I asked, looking them over.

"How does this work?" Mr. Alcott asked, rousing himself into action.

I shrugged, though I still offered him a serious answer. "I touch you, sending you into an extra-dimensional space. In there, you'll be held in stasis. Once we get to our destination - New York?" A glance at the other capes had them both nodding. "Yeah… you'll be brought back out. Same with all your household items, but sorting them will be on your end. Sorry."

"That doesn't sound too bad." Ms. Alcott rubbed her husband's back, as he nodded along.

"Okay. Me first, then."

Things moved rather swiftly after that. A double finger-tap brought him into my Grid, followed by the other two family members - Dinah still holding a fork with food on it - and the table, with everything on it. Chairs and obvious furniture were next, followed by wall hangings and kitchen appliances.

I ran a paired finger through every drawer and cupboard I opened, pulling masses of dishes, serving-ware and more into my Inventory Grid in a near-endless stream. The next rooms followed the same procedure, as I took everything from floor to ceiling, with the self-moderated exclusion of carpeted floors and light fixtures.

One of Prism's duplicates followed as I worked, not doing much more than pointing out things that seemed to risk being left behind.

Thankfully, there was no attic to go through, but the basement proved to be a rather substantial mess.

"A bicycle courier just turned onto the driveway," Prism said.

"Okay?" I spared her a glance before continuing to tap through masses of stacked boxes.

"One of my selves just stopped him at the door." She went quiet. "He has a package for you - Blackbox."

I rapidly blinked behind my mask, thinking. A guess was voiced. "A power-play by Coil?"

"It's possible. How did you want to handle the item?"

I shrugged. "Toss it into my Inventory, unwrap it, find out what it is?"

"I'll confirm with Miss Militia."

I continued storing the boxes, motivated to keep up my pace, and finished before a Prism duplicate approached the two of us. She was cautiously holding a yellow package, pointed in my direction, which I tapped into my Grid.

The Prism pair and myself reconvened in the gutted kitchen, where Miss Militia had already set up a green-black shaded heavy machine-gun onto its integrated tripod. A few moments' thought presented an idea as to why she wouldn't be near the street-side windows: if this was a play by Coil, his mercenaries had access to high caliber weapons of their own, along with Tinker-tech lasers.

My interface was willed up, and the package found in my Grid. Some mental 'drag and dropping' pulled the yellow covering away, revealing a small flip-phone. The displayed description box didn't give any hint of Tinker-tech or deadly modifications, but I still made it visible in case the others knew something I didn't.

"It's a common burner phone model," Miss Militia said. "Generic, cheap, and sold in lot batches. Let's see what happens."

I dialed back the interface into invisibility, and pulled out the flip-phone. Seconds later, it began to ring, and I answered it while the others looked on.

"Blackbox," the voice began. "Or should I say… Ozzy Grey?"

'Yep,' I thought, sighing. 'That's a classic Coil power play right there.' I resolved to not give him any emotional ammunition. "What do you want, Coil?"

At the mention of the snake-themed villain's name, the last Prism duplicate showed up. The three of them merged together in a small flash of light, then just as quickly spread out again. Miss Militia was quietly murmuring, head tilted down while one hand rested on her summoned weapon. The remaining duplicate stood just inside the kitchen doorway, not bothering to peek out - likely trusting in the senses of her shared copies.

"Mutually satisfactory agreements, of course."

"Uh huh." A glance at the other two didn't reveal any sort of prompting, so I continued playing along. "I'm listening."

"It has come to my attention that a man of your talents has been vastly underpaid. I could remedy this situation."

"Money?" I forced a cough, not succeeding a hiding a small bout of laughter. "If your dossier on me was accurate, you'd know that financial incentives are hardly what drives me."

"Then what does motivate you, Blackbox? Your work with Armsmaster? If all you need is access to Tinkers, I'd be more than willing to facilitate your introduction to Toybox. Imagine what you could do when you're not bound by the strictures the PRT place."

"Huh." While the offer of grey-to-black market access was tempting, Coil lived and died by a modus operandi of lies and betrayal. There wasn't anything he could offer that I couldn't find elsewhere. Given the option, I'd rather trust Accord. "And what do you want?"

"A delivery."

"Of?"

"Why play this game? You know perfectly well who I want, and why I want her."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," I replied, non-committedly. "Still… delivering a young girl into your hands? Doesn't feel good."

"Everyone does something distasteful in the pursuits of their goals," he continued. "Sometimes encouragement is needed. Yours is approaching. The time you have remaining to make this choice your own is swiftly dwindling. Goodbye." The disconnect of a dial-tone buzzed into my ear, while I wondered what he meant. I left the phone at my feet, rather than store it, in case another call happened. The lack of simple pockets on my costume was mildly aggravating.

"Incoming? Something?" I warned the others, joining Prism on the other side of the kitchen doorway. "What does it look like?"

"Nothing in line of sight from the windows," she said.

"Multiple accidents were just reported blocking off the connecting streets," Miss Militia added. "There must be a nearby jammer, too - comms just turned to static. I can't reach anyone."

"All that with the PRT frequencies? Tinker-tech radios?" I asked.

"Yes." Her agreement was harsh and blunt.

"So what's the plan? Bunker up, wait for reinforcements?" I asked.

"Exactly," Miss Militia replied.

"Well, that's not too bad…" I started, only for Prism to cut me off.

"I've got something." She took a breath. "Muscle car. Heavily armoured - doesn't look like Squealer's work, though. More like an amateur junkyard special."

My head turned towards Miss Militia, curious, but she shook her own in the negative.

"They parked in this driveway," Prism continued. "A figure stepped out - male, Caucasian, physically fit, wearing a costume that looks like a fusion of a mixed-martial artist and a boxers.'"

"Striker powers? Combat thinker?" Miss Militia speculated. "I can't place him."

My mind was racing. Part of my cautious paranoia was regularly quelled by thinking about what could curb stomp me - and how far away those metaphorical monsters were. One of those threats was a Wards-sourced character called the 'Contender.' His historical profile had him listed as a different name, though: the Pugilist, or simply 'the Pug' for short. The main relieving factor around that parahuman power and Tinker-tech cancelling Trump was that he was supposed to be on a completely different planet. As far as I remember - I've never actually read Ward - that mercenary was only an issue when the cross-Earth portals began appearing.

At this point, Cauldron was my strange optimistic hope - if some other cross-world force was active, all my plans and ideas would soon become more hole-filled than Swiss cheese. Given their own deep connections to the PRT, it was likely that everything Director Piggot and Armsmaster knew - or even speculated - was already in their hands.

"Comms are back online," Miss Militia announced.

At nearly the same instance, the flip-phone I had discarded earlier on the floor began to ring. I went over, opened it up, and Coil's voice emerged.

"Time's up, Blackbox," he began. "These are your choices: agree to bring Dinah to me. Go outside and face-off with an unknown parahuman mercenary. Or listen as people begin to die. Their deaths will be on your hands."

"There are multiple hostage situations," Miss Militia said, focused off to the side. "Coil's mercenaries have hit a number of spots around the city. So far, there is a restaurant, a walk-in clinic, and… a daycare."

"Oh, fuck," I muttered, forgetting I was still holding the phone.

"Exactly." His voice oozed slimy confidence. "You have one minute until the first fatality."

I knew - I imagined - situations like this before. I read about them. It is relatively easy to say that you'll be an uncaring bastard, focused solely on the bottom line - the end result. But… picturing a pistol lined up with a kid's head… was far too much for me.

"I'm going outside," I quietly spoke, ensuring my voice didn't carry.

"Tick tock, Blackbox," he replied. "Until you're seen, every second means nothing except for steps inching closer to someone else's death."

"Yeah…" I let out a sigh, flipping closed the phone and willing it into my Inventory. A moment was spared to mentally prep myself, then I shot off at a sprint.

Yelled voices tried to get my attention, but I ignored them. Outstretched double-fingers met the front door before I crashed into it, sending the wood slab to my Grid.

My running steps had me reaching towards the figure Prism had earlier identified before the world suddenly changed.

The ground below me rippled, pushed out in a growing circle from his feet. An odd glow suffused the air, with the same strange illumination marking the once-normal colours of the driveway.

"What now?" I wheezed, temporarily giving up the idea of a simple tap while exertion still strained my muscles and breathing.

"Now?" A deep voice echoed my question. He rolled his head around, cracking his neck. "Just you, me, and the arena."

That so-called 'arena' ended in an empty void some twenty-odd feet in the distance, all around us. It held a wrongness that made my head ache as my eyes skittered over that threshold, but was paired with a touch of maniac greed of wanting it for myself.

"What's your name… gladiator?" My question was half-mocking, half-serious.

"The Pugilist."

Up close, his boxing-ring inspired costume was more apparent. A loose fitting, thin red robe extended to his thighs, tied shut with a black cloth belt. Under it, a stiff-looking chest piece was visible, along with an oddly hanging set of long shorts. The more jarring items were the chromed metal bars on his finger-exposing gloves, along with darkly polished boots that seemed more suited to urban military combat.

"Ah." I blinked under my mask, breathing finally restored to an even pace, and straightened up. A moment's internal debate had me tempted to troll the fighter - maybe reference how far he was from his home world, or perhaps how this scenario was hardly backed by his pattern of online bet-backed duels. However, without speaking, I could still later claim ignorance into the greater affairs of many alternate Earths.

Mind aimed away from provocation, I tilted my head down, and stared at my chest.

'Is my square still glowing?' The lighting of this strange space drove my uncertain speculation. 'Are my powers shard-based… or not?'

Chapter 9 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 9 - INVENTORY Notes

Total Interior Dimensions/Volume:

- Chapter (unchanged): ~ 1080 cubic ft.

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory-connected Scripts:

- Anti-brightness

- Anti-generalized attacks

- Anti-loud sounds

- Anti-hotness

- Anti-bugs

- Anti-electricity

- Self to Box

- Grid items get stasis

- Living items to Grid

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- Prism: New Modifications: copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

- Dinah Alcott: Interface Modifications: (1) calculate odds of desired outcome of an action or process within Inventory; (2) display rough steps for a specific desired outcome within Inventory.

Installed Power Sets - New:

- N/A.

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation. [Not Applicable: enhanced physique; post-damage resistance boost.]

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item. [Not Applicable: enhanced weapon use; removed sleep requirement; enhanced memory.]

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory). [Not Applicable: enhanced agility, coordination, stamina.]

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens. [Not Applicable: energy beams.]

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs. [Not Applicable: flight.]

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources.

- Two (2) available; all others installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed.'

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological- old

- Faraday cage.

- Prototype graphical user interface template (Tinker-tech software).

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Beta-mix player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Accelerate time.

- Sound/volume manipulation.

- Teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

Item Modifications (all):

- [Go-to] teleport tagging (Inventory interior).

- [Mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Undo (reverse prior 30 seconds).

Item Modifications (areas):

- [landbound] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Item Modifications (technology):

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Miniaturize technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects.

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Selectively combine multiple properties into one item.

- Spatial properties adjusting.

- Spatial shaping adjustment.

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Modifications (metals):

- Metal manipulation; metallokinesis.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

- View metaphorical power representation.

- View (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

Item State:

- Install/uninstall into item.

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Accelerated time bubble (unstable).

- Bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Light-energy refining/condensing lens (unstable).

- Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory).

- [unspecified] energies (highly unstable).

- [unspecified] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Variable charge, programmable energy orbs (unstable).

Power Sources

- [21/21; all installed as 'Dynamic/As Needed'; all available].

- [2/2; not installed; available].

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

- A 'search bar' beside a magnifying glass icon (for launching Interface-installed operating system).

- A keyboard-like interface [hidden].

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

-'Airplane' icon for 'airplane mode' for the entire interface on bottom far left corner.

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left, to the right of the airplane icon.

Notable Inventory contents:

- A highly upgraded, power-enhanced costume.

- A small sample kit of originally 20 different elements, substances, and/or compounds.

- A PRT-modified, generic-looking white van.

- The entire contents of the Alcotts' house interior, from every room, including their garage.

- A wood slab door with glass inserts.

- A burner phone (known of by Coil).

- Dinah Alcott, with her mother and father (all three held in stasis).

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations.

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brocton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

- A USB key that has some proof-of-concept Tinker-tech software on it.

- Water.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: (see other lists). Prism.

- Wards: (see other lists).

- Other: Dinah Alcott.

A/N: Prism's costume colours were a guess, as there doesn't seem to be a canon description of them. Also: I'm trying a 'script-like' display. Comments/feedback about it appreciated. If it's really negative (or time consuming on my end!), I'll just do them in the background.

A/N #2: After being pointed to some references in Ward [Blinding 11.3] by a reader [Arkhaic], the Pugilist/Contender is an Earth Bet native. The references that Blackbox make to him (above, in this chapter) being not from Earth Bet are an example of incorrect meta-knowledge.

Last edited: Mar 1, 2022

10 - Appearing Real

10 - Appearing Real

[April 5th, 2011 - evening]

The answer to my question was as visible as my newly summoned Inventory interface: whatever foundations my abilities came from, a parahuman power-cancelling Trump held no dominion over them.

The sense of relief turned my laboured breathing into a chest-rattling chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

"Eh, you know…" I shrugged. "Is this all supposed to do something?" A casual wave indicated the 'arena' around us that the Pugilist had created - the dim glow pervading the transformed suburban landscape, along with the unsettling, empty wrongness that bordered the roughly circular space.

"You don't know me," he began, slowly nodding, as if in agreement with himself. "That's expected. Here, at least." He rolled his shoulders. "Total power nullification. Everything. No outside help."

"Yeah… about that…" I tapped through my Grid, finding the section that held the Alcott's kitchen selection. A thought pulled out an apple from a floral-decorated fruit bowl, placing it into my outstretched hand. "Hungry?"

"Sleight of hand tricks won't faze me. I've ruined giants of men, broken and crying when…"

I kept on sending the green-skinned apple to and from my Grid while he monologued, every action adding more halting hesitation to his words.

"… how?"

I shrugged. "You're a Trump, I'm a Trump, everybody Trump-Trump?" My joke wasn't funny even for myself. "So…" I cleared my throat. "Does this thing stop outside time? Or are we on some sort of deadline?"

The Pugilist didn't immediately reply, instead flexing his hands within their rigid-looking martial arts gloves.

I pulled out an older trick in his silence, willing one of my fingers to act as a matter-absorbing scalpel. I slowly sheared the top half of the apple off, sending it in layered pieces to my Inventory Grid. The lower portion was tossed to my audience.

"Did I mention that I'm not Manton-limited?"

"What do you want?" He had expertly plucked the flying fruit out of the air, and was staring at it while he had spoken.

"Can you first tell me - are we on some sort of time limit here?"

"Yes," he answered, then volunteered more as the apple fragment was whipped back at me, my undisguised flinch not mattering as it disappeared into my Inventory. "A pick up is arranged for you. Soon. I was supposed to have you amiable for that by the time they arrived." He stared at the void-like expanse around us, apparently undisturbed by the display. "Time flows as normal, here. Those outside can get vague impressions of what is happening within. That's it."

"All right, fair enough." A part of me was wishing that a time-stop effect was included with the Pugilist's powers, but I was reasonably satisfied with what this 'gift' had brought me. I also felt confident enough to suggest a rather simple idea: "Let's go along with your plan, then?"

"… what?"

"Yes. Exactly. You get paid - or whatever - keeping your perfect reputation as a scary power-canceller, while I am an oh-so-very fragile extra-dimensional storage user left at a complete loss without my own abilities. Very definitely not someone who can overcome your 'arena,' right?"

"That's… doable," he replied, shifting into a more relaxed posture. "How did you want to play this?"

"Eh…" I'd need to bounce some messages Armsmaster's way as soon as possible. Prism's power also presented an interesting opportunity. "I just need to set up a few things… you'd need to stop into my Box, as well."

"I was told to not let your powers touch me."

"Is that a willing or an unwilling yes?"

"… fine. Whatever."

Taps at my interface brought up what Prism had granted me, and a few more successfully installed her duplication-based power. I'd deal with Dinah's in a more relaxed environment.

I then roughly hashed out a script, moderately more complicated than what I had done so far. It took long enough that my out-classed opponent had already sat down, back propped up against the glow-distorted façade of the garage door. The only thing he had left to stare at was his junkyard special of an American muscle car, parked in the otherwise empty driveway.

Code:

IF user says = "copy copy" clear value TO-COPY THEN within 5 seconds, user says number value = non-zero integer record and store non-zero integer number value as TO-COPY THEN within 5 seconds, user says = "confirm" display message box = "Copy macro started for total items equaling:" TO-COPY THEN send next item touched with two fingers to Inventory Grid assign item just touched with two fingers and sent to Inventory Grid as COPY-THIS reduce TO-COPY by 1 THEN copy COPY-THIS into next empty Inventory Grid square bring COPY-THIS out from Inventory Grid in original relative xyz coordinates clear value COPY-THIS UNTIL TO-COPY is = 0 OR user says = "end end copy" THEN display message box = "Copy macro complete." END IF

While it wouldn't work to make mass copies of single items, the script would save me the stresses of manually going through the actions for a large batch of wanted things. Massed copying could be done some other time.

"Copy copy one confirm?" I whispered, expectant.

Copy macro started for total items equaling: 1

Even as a grin stretched over my face, I poked my shoulder with two fingers.

Copy macro complete.

A look at my Grid revealed the results: a tiny, stasis-frozen copy of myself.

The intention mattered, I was certain. I imagine that if I had only focused on my costume, it would have only pulled a copy of it. Instead… there was a copy of me. The altered reality of treating myself as an 'item' had come full circle.

"Ready." I stood up from my own ground based position, unnecessarily dusting off my hands on my thighs, and approached the Pugilist.

There was no sense of defiance in his posture, but I was still cautious: if not for the non-threat that he represented, then for being an unprofessional ass or otherwise wasting my time.

"Copy copy one confirm," I again whispered, seeing the same prompt box pop up. A two finger touch to his shoulder didn't appear to do anything, but the macro completion message window and a copy of his seated figure in my Inventory Grid proved that it worked. "That's it."

"Fine." He shifted in place. "Just need to wait, then."

- [+] -

The Pugilist regularly checked his watch, the device hidden under the length of one of his gloves.

Soon enough, he stood, rotating his neck to release a number of pops. Once he leaned back against the driver's seat of his car, the world suddenly shifted back into normality.

Within seconds, two vehicles rolled to a stop at the end of the driveway, blocking it completely.

The first was a black SUV, its blank façade nearly identical to what the PRT used, while the other was a larger van of the same colour.

Multiple soldiers spilled out of different doors simultaneously, all aiming Tinker-tech-looking rifles at me. They were dressed as more generic, but also more heavily armed, versions of PRT troopers. Each was loaded with multiple grenades, ammo clips, and full pockets whose contents I couldn't guess at. A head-count brought their total to an even half-dozen, one of whom called out.

"Pugilist? Report!"

"All as expected," he replied.

One of Coil's men retrieved a small bag from the driver's side of the SUV, and tossed it to my recent companion. He popped it open, nodding in evident satisfaction, and entered his own car without sparing a further glance to the rest of us.

A rumbling roar announced its engine starting, and he drove onto the lawn, tearing up the grass, and went around the parked vehicles down the street.

"Get in," the earlier speaking soldier barked. He gestured towards the back of the van with his head, keeping his weapon loosely aimed at me.

I moved towards it, sparing only a glance back at the gaping open doorway of the Alcott's house. What I took to be Prism's head briefly flashed into sight at the edges before disappearing.

My steps were interrupted by a hail-like staccato burst of sound raining all around me.

"Get down!"

I ignored the chaos of the soldiers scrambling, firing back short bursts at the open doorway. Neither the apparent volume of the gunfire or whatever bullets being fired impacted me in any way I could feel.

The only sign of my less than perfect composure was the repeated flinches I made at every sound, even though the maximum volume never rose higher than a moderately loud shout.

The rear of the van was empty as I entered it, deliberately seating myself as close to the front driver's partition as possible.

"We leaving or what?!" I shouted out through the open doors, timed during a pause in the gunfire.

The first of Coil's mercenaries popped in the back seconds later, with two more soon following. Once the rear van doors were closed, I felt the vehicle begin to move.

There might have been some pointed glares at my choice of seating, but I couldn't make out any details through their darkly tinted helmets, and no verbal commentary was offered. I similarly kept silent and stationary, directing my interface by thought alone.

Mental taps revealed an obvious problem: I didn't have any sort of online or data connection available to send my pre-written reports to Armsmaster. There was the possible option of my earpiece radio, but I haven't heard a single thing out of it - not even static.

Here's to hoping that I get an opportunity soon.

- [+] -

My thoughts soon revolved around something Armsmaster had said earlier. Specifically, how parahuman powers that could create material items presented an opportunity to expand my total Inventory size without relying on taking in things from the outside. Kaiser's metal-making powers were brought up as the easiest solution, but Prism's newly acquired abilities might also do the same.

Intrigued, I panned over my Inventory Grid to the nearly emptied watery remainders from the Brockton Bay. Quick copy commands made identical duplicates in the next two Grid squares, but the command option was greyed out when I tried for a third.

An examination of one of the copies revealed the likely reasons.

Water (unstable)

Liquid

- Held in stasis.

- Power-generated copy.

- Maximum existence duration of 24 hours.

- Limited to two [2] copies of original item.

My mask-hidden frown turned to excited anticipation when I considered the 'unstable' tag: 'would it react the same way that Tinker-tech did to 'upgrades'?!'

The work of a few seconds confirmed that, in fact, it did.

'I just duped water!'

The only signs of my aborted maniacal cackling were some suppressed grunts while I all but vibrated in place.

"Uh… you need to go to the bathroom or something?"

"Ah…" I let out a constipated groan, followed by a drawn-out, shuddering sigh of relief. "Nope. I'm good. Powers are great. Thanks."

"Uh huh." The mercenary that had spoke shook his head, but not before adding a much quieter jab. "Fucking weirdo."

I didn't care - well, not enough to say so - instead mentally bouncing around all the implications that this ability brought up: Tinker-tech equipped armies. Warehouses full of supplies. Infinite back-up clones!

Any thoughts of my only being potentially valuable were blown into space, trumped by the very current reality of my being all but a multi-universal treasure of parahuman ability, right up there with the likes of Contessa, the Doormaker and Clairvoyant pair, Goddess and more. This was huge.

I went through a few minutes of calming, deep breaths, slowly working myself into a more reasonable state of mind.

More sedate, I once again considered my plans for Inventory space expansion. The idea of using that common liquid held some merits, but it created a significant problem once I was satisfied with the current interior dimensions: a damn big load of water.

If, for the sake of argument, I could infinitely expand my Inventory's interior dimensions with it, I would then have a nearly infinite amount of water and nowhere to put it. The benefits of having such a large space to work with would be lost, since that space would be filled. Even if I could will those near-endless liquids out of my Inventory when I was done with them, a planet's worth of water would be an unnatural disaster in itself.

I couldn't rely on hoping or assuming that I'd have an alternate way of removing, deleting, or otherwise handling large amounts of 'items' in a convenient time-frame.

However, I did have some more approaches to try before I gave up this particular idea.

The quickest one was disproving that I couldn't copy an already copied 'unstable' square of water. That took seconds, with the option to 'copy' not even being visible. I'd assumed so, but it would be rather stupid of me to not attempt such and only find out some time later. The other idea merited more consideration.

Slowly, carefully, I repeated the same steps as earlier. First, I merged all the newly stable Grid squares of water together. Next, I copied it twice over, filling in two new squares. Then, I merged the two copied, unstable squares together - which went off without a hitch.

Even more slowly - not that that would matter, but the careful precision lent an air of optimistic gravitas to the whole situation - I again tried to copy the base 'stable' square of water.

'It worked!'

I now had three separate Grid squares of water: the original 'stable' amount, a double-sized 'unstable' pile, and another 'unstable' amount equal to the original 'stable' liquid. Mental drag and dropping brought that double-sized Inventory square of 'unstable' water to triple-sized, bringing the total back down to two used squares, and a rough plan began to emerge. Unlike the doubling rate of exponential growth, I'd be limited to a very slow linear rate - scripts would absolutely be needed.

Before sprinting forward with my carefree optimism, I'd need to test another assumption: that I could easily get ride of these 'unstable' copies via time acceleration.

I then edited the 'unstable' copy of water to remove their stasis-like effect, and watched the initial count of twenty-four hours slowly count down, second by second. Mental commands tied to that specific Inventory Grid square multiplied the flow of time in increasing amounts: double, triple, ten times, a hundred times. I kept on pushing the multiplier until it disappeared, along the the contained water.

A self-satisfied sound of approval was all that I let myself release, then I pulled up the script interface. I'd start with my earlier copy macro…

- [+] -

The final result was simple in design, even though it substantially relied on the limits and internal interpretations that the so-called scripting 'language' used within my Inventory. For the sake of smooth operations, I then moved my water 'item' to the first empty spot in my Grid.

Code:

IF user says = "copy endless water copy copy" THEN assign item "water (stable)" as STABLE-WATER assign next Inventory Grid square as SPACE-1-BIG assign Inventory Grid square after SPACE-1-BIG as SPACE-2-TEMP assign current time as START-TIME THEN copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-1-BIG copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-2-TEMP THEN assign number 0 as SUB-LOOP-COUNT start SUB-LOOP-1 move items in SPACE-2-TEMP to SPACE-1-BIG copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-2-TEMP end SUB-LOOP-1 IF 2 seconds or more elapsed since START-TIME end SUB-LOOP-1 IF SUB-LOOP-COUNT = 1,000 assign SUB-LOOP-COUNT as SUB-LOOP-COUNT + 1 GO-TO SUB-LOOP-1 END SUB-LOOP-1 END IF

Since I didn't know how 'endless' this particular 'endless' script could be, the two shut-offs I put into it - time and loop count based, respectively - would act as sanity-based stop-gaps.

"Copy endless water copy copy!" I whispered, and nothing noticeably happened.

A quick check of my Inventory screen revealed that the expected triple piles of water were present, though the time - and the script - took far less than two seconds.

I stared at the van's blank ceiling while I considered the reasons for it being so quick. The first answer that popped into mind was computer processing cycles - far more than one thousand occurred per second. Given that I had 'installed' some modern technology, such as smart phones, calculators, and so on, it was a given that that the pseudo-CPU cycles in my Inventory would operate at least as fast as them.

Newly resolved, I went back into the 'endless water' script and added another 'zero' to the end-based count, and ran it again with my spoken commands.

No change - it still ended well before two seconds had elapsed.

I kept on editing the script, adding another digit to the count, and finally had it end with what I assumed was the full two seconds after the ten billion number was reached. Some experimentation with the time and end count proved that one second equaled around one billion cycles. How fixed that amount was, and whether it was connected to the hardware I had previously installed, was yet to be determined.

Newly confident, I multiplied all the values to run for about ten minutes - 600 billion cycles, and 600 seconds - adding a reminder message at the end, and verbally started it.

Revised water copying script

Code:

BOX - SCRIPT (SPOILER) IF user says = "copy endless water copy copy" THEN assign item "water (stable)" as STABLE-WATER assign next Inventory Grid square as SPACE-1-BIG assign Inventory Grid square after SPACE-1-BIG as SPACE-2-TEMP assign current time as START-TIME THEN copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-1-BIG copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-2-TEMP THEN assign number 0 as SUB-LOOP-COUNT start SUB-LOOP-1 move items in SPACE-2-TEMP to SPACE-1-BIG copy STABLE-WATER to SPACE-2-TEMP end SUB-LOOP-1 IF 600 seconds or more elapsed since START-TIME end SUB-LOOP-1 IF SUB-LOOP-COUNT = 600,000,000,000 assign SUB-LOOP-COUNT as SUB-LOOP-COUNT + 1 GO-TO SUB-LOOP-1 END SUB-LOOP-1 display message = "Water duping loop of 10 minutes (600 seconds) and 600 billion cycles ended." END IF

Minutes of waiting turned to hours, blowing by my scheduled appointment with Strider. The time was checked irregularly via my Inventory interface, with other periodic interruptions done by the ten-minute popup message of my water copying script.

After the first hour, I began to strongly suspect that they weren't taking me directly to Coil's base. However, the sheer amount of passing time also threw away the idea of some sort of circling around Brockton Bay as a means to hide our route or other form of deception.

Other thoughts then began to ferment as to where, exactly, we were going. While I was reasonably confident that Coil was eager to get his slimy hands on the precog skills of Dinah, I had no clue as to how roundabout he would be making the acquisition process. The presence of the Pugilist almost certainly suggested the cooperation of Cauldron and the portal-making skills of Doormaker, but how involved they were together was unknown. If it was a one-off thing, like a favour for a favour, it was possible that I'd be handed off to yet another party for another round of convincing. The most likely option was Accord and his Ambassadors, based out of nearby Boston, while more problematic guesses included the Chinese Yangban, or even something like controlled exposure to the expected useless body-hijacking powers of the Undersiders' Regent. Regardless of my proven Master immunities, if I felt the slightest twitch that wasn't my own, I was immediately bailing out.

Also, as I wasn't willing to either ask or trust the answers of Coil's mercenaries here, I opted to just continue to wait and see.

- [+] -

There was no fanfare when we finally stopped.

The rear doors were popped open by one of the mercenaries, who exited the vehicle, with the remaining two gesturing for me to leave with their rifles.

With a shrug, I followed their directions, coming out into a clean, dimly lit warehouse-like space. The other two stepped to the ground behind me once I had moved a few paces away.

Three other cars were present, two of whom were black stretch limousines. The fourth was the same SUV that had been at the Alcott's house earlier.

'The guess for this being Boston is getting warmer!'

Once the four of us approached halfway between the paired lines of vehicles, two masked individuals left the closest limo, all but confirming that we were dealing with Accord's Ambassadors.

The woman I guessed to be Citrine led their unhurried steps towards us, her practiced grace accented further with a golden yellow evening gown that cut off low enough to reveal flashes of her high heels. The matching gemstones that lined her half-face mask paired nicely with her blond hair. She had the power to manipulate nearby reality, which included physics-based traits, along with parahuman power 'adjustments.'

Her follower, seamlessly keeping pace behind her, was a formal suit attired man. The black and white colours of his twin-tailed tuxedo matched his own full-face mask, a half-and-half design that I couldn't initially place. Only after mentally 'flipping' his mask back and forth did a somewhat likely guess emerge: Othello, with the ability to manifest some sort of invisible creature, and travel via mirrors. I couldn't remember all his details.

Not wanting to prompt any reflexive violence, I backed away from the impromptu meeting, angling myself closer to Coil's mercenaries' vehicles. A part of me held onto a deeper, simpler reason: I had already decided how this all was going to end, and didn't want to waste time on pleasantries. My view of the mercs were already suitably distant - not that I expected any sort of buddy-buddy relationship to emerge - but I didn't want to give myself the chance to get into the good graces of the Ambassadors.

I used the freed time to time-accelerate my copied water, dropping my 'used Inventory' amount to an impressive under one percent value.

Their exchanges soon ended, with everyone's attention then aimed my way. This time, rather than rifle-led gestures, one of the mercenaries merely waved me towards the masked pair.

I walked over, purposely slowly, taking long enough that all of Coil's forces managed to get back into their own vehicles.

"Excuse me a moment," I said, then power-walked between the SUV and van. Two sets of double-finger taps brought them both into my Inventory, and I turned back with a smile - only to see Citrine and Othello splitting up, each heading towards a different limo.

"Eh?" I was surprised for a moment, expecting them to be mindlessly waiting for me. However, Accord probably gave them a number of contingency plans, and this was one of them.

"Wait!"

They didn't.

Cursing my own lack of Mover abilities - something I'll need to investigate ASAP - I ran towards what I considered the more valuable of the pair: Citrine.

A small chase ensured with her stretch limo backing away from me, but I managed to tap it into my Inventory Grid when they ran out of empty warehouse space. Thankfully, the walls weren't cheap pre-fab, preventing my halfcocked plan turning into a colossal mistake.

By the time I recovered from my unexpected exercise - heavy breaths and the suppressed urge to puke turned to something more reasonable - Othello's ride was long gone.

Still, the small-scale reality warping abilities of the yellow-dressed parahuman was a nice catch.

- [+] -

Only after I had left the warehouse, starting my quest for the Boston's PRT building, did I think to double-check a slowly building source of unease: 'did I actually capture Citrine? Accord's Ambassadors don't use body doubles, do they!?'

Regardless of how silly it felt to follow the impulse, I went through my Inventory settings to confirm the expected addition to available power sets.

It wasn't there.

Checking each person that was in the limo doubly confirmed my failure: every single one was a mundane, if well-dressed, human.

'Well. Shit,' I thought. 'I probably could have handled that better.'

A/N: As stated in last chapter, the Pugilist/Contender is (most likely) an Earth Bet native. Blackbox's assumptions here are an example of *incorrect* meta-knowledge. I had also considered the last scene to go more in BB's favour, but didn't want to nerf Accord's planning abilities.

Interesting water volume numbers!

In this chapter, each 'cycle' copies/creates about 1 liter of water.

1,000,000,000 = 1 GHz per second = 1 billion liters of water

60,000,000,000 = 60 GHz (60 seconds, 1 minute) = 60 billion liters of water

600,000,000,000 = 600 GHz (600 seconds, 10 minutes) = 100 billion liters of water

1,000,000,000,000 liters = 1 cubic km

1,000 billion liters of water = 1 cubic km

1 trillion liters of water = 1 cubic km

Assuming perfect Inventory expansion rates (which are NOT present!), it would take 100 minutes (over an hour and a half) to generate 1 cubic kilometer worth of water.

The smallest lake by volume (listed List of lakes by volume - Wikipedia ) is Lake Nicaragua ( Lake Nicaragua - Wikipedia ), which is 108 km3. To get 108 km3 worth of water, it would take (108 x 100 minutes = 10,800 minutes = 180 hours = 7.5 days) seven and a half days.

Blackbox is SEVERLY over-estimating the effectiveness of this duping method!

However, if the starting amount was increased from 1 liter to something like 1 km3 (or higher!), this would all go MUCH faster! (However, it would then have to contend with the total Inventory size expansion rate - which isn't a problem when duping/using such small amounts, such as 1 liter.)

Other interesting numbers:

- Cubic volume of the Earth: 1,083,206,916,846 km3

- Rounded cubic volume of the Earth: 1,100,000,000,000 km3

- Math: 1,100,000,000,000 x 100 minutes = 110,000,000,000,000 minutes = 1,833,333,333,333 hours = 76,388,888,889 days = 209,284,627 years!

** ALSO: Please ignore earlier chapters bad math examples! I try! uWu! (´-ω-`)

** (If this math is wrong, let me know - the ranges I use are 'loose' enough that exact numbers should NOT matter, but major assumptions being corrected would help. Thanks!)

** For those getting this far… Time acceleration AND these cycles haven't been considered. Yet. *cough*cough*

Chapter 10 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 10 - INVENTORY Notes

Total Interior Dimensions/Volume:

- Chapter start: ~ 1080 cubic ft. (~30.6 cubic meters.)

- Chapter end: ~ 1.5 cubic kilometers.

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified) + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Extra-dimensional Space Window, Spatial Adjustment Interface.

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory-connected Scripts:

- Anti-brightness

- Anti-generalized attacks

- Anti-loud sounds

- Anti-hotness

- Anti-bugs

- Anti-electricity

- Self to Box

- Grid items get stasis

- Living items to Grid

- Instant single-copy

- Water duping

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

- The Pugilist/the Contender: Interface Modification: parahuman-based power suppression.

- Dinah Alcott: Interface Modifications: (1) calculate odds of desired outcome of an action or process within Inventory; (2) display rough steps for a specific desired outcome within Inventory.

Installed Power Sets - New:

- Prism: Item Modification: copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation. [Not Applicable: enhanced physique; post-damage resistance boost.]

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item. [Not Applicable: enhanced weapon use; removed sleep requirement; enhanced memory.]

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory). [Not Applicable: enhanced agility, coordination, stamina.]

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens. [Not Applicable: energy beams.]

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs. [Not Applicable: flight.]

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources. [Only tracking if plot relevant.]

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological- old

- Faraday cage.

- Prototype graphical user interface template (Tinker-tech software).

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Beta-mix player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Accelerate time.

- Sound/volume manipulation.

- Teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

Item Modifications (all):

- [Go-to] teleport tagging (Inventory interior).

- [Mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Undo (reverse prior 30 seconds).

- Copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

Item Modifications (areas):

- [landbound] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Item Modifications (technology):

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Miniaturize technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects.

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Selectively combine multiple properties into one item.

- Spatial properties adjusting.

- Spatial shaping adjustment.

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Modifications (metals):

- Metal manipulation; metallokinesis.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

- View metaphorical power representation.

- View (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

Item State:

- Install/uninstall into item.

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Accelerated time bubble (unstable).

- Bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Light-energy refining/condensing lens (unstable).

- Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory).

- [unspecified] energies (highly unstable).

- [unspecified] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Variable charge, programmable energy orbs (unstable).

Power Sources

- [Will only track if plot relevant.]

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- Posed paper-doll self with worn items.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

-'Airplane' icon for 'airplane mode' for the entire interface on bottom far left corner.

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left, to the right of the airplane icon.

- A 'search bar' beside a magnifying glass icon (for launching Interface-installed operating system).

- A keyboard-like interface [hidden].

Notable Inventory contents:

- Coil's mercenaries: six, fully equipped.

- Accord's Ambassadors (non-parahuman employees): one body-double of Citrine, two formal suit wearing men.

- Vehicles: two black stretch limos, one armoured black SUV, one armoured black van.

- Stasis-frozen (unstable) duplicates (2): Blackbox/Ozzy Grey, the Pugilist.

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations.

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brocton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

- A USB key that has some proof-of-concept Tinker-tech software on it.

- Water.

- A highly upgraded, power-enhanced costume.

- A small sample kit of originally 20 different elements, substances, and/or compounds.

- A PRT-modified, generic-looking white van.

- The entire contents of the Alcotts' house interior, from every room, including their garage.

- A wood slab door with glass inserts.

- A burner phone (known of by Coil).

- Dinah Alcott, with her mother and father (all three held in stasis).

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: (see other lists). Prism.

- Wards: (see other lists).

- Other: Dinah Alcott. The Pugilist/the Contender.

11 - Meat Maker

A/N: I'm still alive! Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 11 - Meat Maker

[April 5th, 2011 - late evening]

After my botched plan of 'acquiring' some of Accord's capes, I left the warehouse.

In a marked contrast to what I had seen of Brockton Bay's industrial districts, the surroundings were mostly clean, well-lit, and in good repair. No signs of homeless encampments were present, and even the odd dumpster that peeked into visibility from the sidewalks appeared to be snugly closed.

More problematically, the area was unusually empty. Now that I had the power-backed confidence to not fall apart in the face of a mildly threatening conversation, there was no opportunity to ask a stranger - friendly or otherwise - for directions to the Boston PRT headquarters.

As I walked, I began to mentally review what I knew of Earth Bet's take on this city.

The two biggest factors here were Accord's Ambassadors and the Teeth. It was very likely that my recent actions had pissed off Accord, but I had to hope that my having one of the problem-solving Thinker's limos, along with some of his un-powered employees, was enough to prevent a preemptive instant-kill 'solution' on his part.

The well-dressed sophistication of the Ambassadors was opposed by the 'apocalypse-punk' barbarianism of the Teeth, which were led by the kill-me-and-get-my-minds-and-powers insanity of the Butcher. I didn't remember all the details surrounding that blood-thirsty cape - strength, blood-vision, explosive teleporting, and perfect aim were all that I was sure of - but knew enough that my fumbling antics were a poor match for attempting to 'tag' her.

A pair of headlights panned over me, before quickly passing by.

I glared at the receding vehicle, then resumed my step-driven thoughts.

The other villain 'team' was headed by Blasto, a plant-hybrid based 'wet' Tinker. I wasn't too worried about him.

As far as each teams' parahumans went, I was also mostly confident in being able to handle them. Animos? Without the threat of his power-nullifying scream, he was just a Brute. Spree? A endless mass of clones might have been concerning before I had abused Inventory-driven scripting to massively pump up my internal capacity. Citrine? Her localized, frequency-based reality warping… might actually be a problem…?

'Shit.'

Pausing, a careful look around didn't reveal any well-dressed threats or fancy vehicles that they might be lurking within. I resumed my walk, slightly more optimistic as the sounds of traffic became louder.

- [+] -

By the time I had transitioned from the industrial district to a more public thoroughfare, none of the cars I had waved down had stopped for me.

I had also given up on an 'aggressive' approach, as my one attempt of stepping in front of a moving truck had almost resulted in an accident - for them, as they skidded across two lanes and drove into the direction of oncoming traffic before speeding away.

That difficulty led to my current situation: standing outside a twenty-four-hour convenience store, which just so happened to have its one, late-night employee go into the backrooms when I entered their line of sight.

It wasn't like I could legitimately enter the store, either. It had one of those 'safety windows' for transactions, and the main entrance was locked. I wasn't willing to break in just to soothe my sense of impatience.

'No problem,' I thought. 'I'll just wait. Eventually, *something* will happen.'

- [+] -

My inaction was rewarded with the sight of a small, scratched-up sports car, dragging sparks off of a rear corner, pulling up in front of me.

When it did nothing except remain quietly idling, I slowly circled the black two-seater, heading towards the passenger side first. The heavily tinted glass cloaked all but the most obscure details of the interior, each pane marred further by near continuous crackling patterns. What I had initially taken for scratches were instead gouges, small and large rents that had torn into the chassis of the car. What was more disturbing was that traces of matter remained in some of those tears - flecks of sharp stone, along with what could be pink flesh and red-brown streaks of dried blood.

The driver's-side door was locked.

I frowned underneath the fabric of my costume, scratching my cheek.

'To break in, or not to break in?'

With a shake of my head, I dismissed those ideas, and simply tapped it into the safe stasis of my Inventory Grid. A thought later, I followed it, into my own Box.

Any further mental activity screeched to an abrupt halt as I took in my newly expanded extra-dimensional space.

Where once had been a matte-black area I considered 'large,' maybe somewhere in size between a half-decent living room and a very small school gym, now lay an empty, void-like expanse.

A moment of mild agoraphobia-backed anxiety had my surroundings transform to a canyon-like corner, two walls extending up into a vague, unseen distance.

'… did I just teleport?'

I had never felt the need to test out the ability I had gained from Strider, as it was limited to within my Inventory. Now, however, with this much sheer space to play with, teleportation would make a lot more sense.

Cautious thoughts of wanting to move, paired with the idea of a destination, soon had me blipping all around.

I aimed for each distant corner without issue, as well as the exact centre. No problems.

I even cautiously - then aggressively - attempted to 'telefrag' myself, starting with an extended, quivering pinkie finger, and ending with my entire lower body.

None of those attempts caused even the slightest hint of harm, with each teleport's closest point-blank distance allowing a thick piece of paper to slide between the nearest surface and myself.

Every miniature test diminished my apprehension around this casual use of teleportation, granting me a sense of relief that I wouldn't have to, for example, lock the ability behind some Inventory settings in order to prevent accidental self-harm.

"Now then!" No echoes came from my near shout, the sound fading into the distance. "Where was I…?"

The mystery car!

A thought pulled up my Inventory Interface, and I scrolled down to the latest entry in the Grid. The tiny, icon-like representation of the black sports car lay within.

'This wouldn't do.'

With the clearly held intention of having the stasis condition remain, I willed the vehicle onto the floor in front of me. More normal pokes confirmed its extra-rigid, unflexible nature.

'Time to get carving!'

My finger did nothing.

'Ah. Huh.' I hadn't considered the interactions between Clockblocker's stasis and my more destructive attempts. I guess it doesn't work quite as easily as I would have wanted it to… though it would make sense to try again after 'installing' Fletchette's or some other 'Annihilator-class' Striker abilities.

Humming kept pace with my foot tapping as I considered the problem.

'How about… this?' I kept two paired thoughts in mind: the first being that the car would go into my Grid, and the second being that everything that was not 'car' would stay right here.

That tap was far more productive, disappearing the vehicle, while leaving multiple objects suspended in the air in front of me.

Ignoring the surprise that my attempt worked - maybe I could have done the same thing with the car doors?! - I took in the driver.

The professionally attired man was dressed as an old-fashioned chauffeur, making me guess that he was somehow associated with Accord's Ambassadors. The lack of a mask implied that he wasn't a parahuman, while the frozen state of the freshly bleeding injury on his forehead suggested that taking him out of stasis would not be a good idea.

A tap sent him back into my Grid.

The large mass that was to the side of the driver reminded me of a dusky, dark grey metal sculpture of a man, partially melted as if it was a wax sculpture exposed to an oversized blow torch.

'Wait a second…'

I peered closer at the face. He had silvery eyes, with edging, also done in silver, that traced some of the details of his heat-marred head and the pseudo-tissues within.

"Are you Weld, kid?"

The stasis-bound figure didn't reply, of course.

"Huh." I let out a deep breath. "Probably?"

Given that he was damaged, self-repair was priority. I didn't know what was the damage threshold for his death, but I'd hope that he hadn't met it yet. The compounding issue was how he was damaged: melted. Unless Lung or some other fire-based cape came to Boston, the smart guess would be Sundancer, of the Travelers. However, every thing I had ever read about her suggested that she was reluctant to use her mobile 'suns' in such a lethal manner.

If she had acted to kill Weld, the Case 53 somewhat known as being an overall friendly guy, things could be really messed up.

Some taps at my summoned Interface brought up the left-hand window leading to the convenience store's parking lot. There were no obvious signs of chaos or destruction - no new debris, fires in the background, or stampedes of strange creatures.

Still, Boston was a sizable city, and the odds that any particular upsets would pass directly by me, just as I was looking for them, were pretty damn low.

Best to be cautious.

I willed 'time dilation' into the text search bar at the bottom of my Inventory Interface, and a simple window popped up.

Time Dilation

Exterior : Interior ("Box")

[Edit]

A tap at the edit button soon had me pressing a plus button, then directly editing the number when that proved to be too slow. One to a hundred million seemed like a suitably paranoid starting point.

For the sculpted teen himself, some metal supplies should help his recovery.

Another pass through my Grid had me picking and copying a loose selection of coins, cutlery, and all-metal pots and pans. Each was then 'upgraded' to remove the chance of those pieces fading away in twenty-four hours - I did not want that partial disappearance to happen to the guy.

I placed them in neat stacks barely an arms-length distance from him, cleared up the rest of the floating items that still remained after the car had disappeared, and willed his stasis effect off.

His immediate shifting of attention towards me was relieving, proving that that my worst fears weren't realized.

"Take it easy," I said, hoping he understood me. "I've got a time dilation effect up. No rush. Here are some metal supplies in case you need them."

My gestures towards the random spread was met with a crooked nod, and a mangled arm stretched out to a particularly large metal pot.

I kept quiet as Weld slowly reversed his injuries, many of my scrap metal pieces roughly sticking to his body before they smoothed out. Like a detailed, anatomically correct artisan wrought sculpture, layers of metallic organs, bones, and skin grew outward from the gaps in his body.

'Maybe he'd want some clothes, too?'

A bout of scrolling through my Grid found some of Mr. Alcotts' clothes that would be suitable, which were then copied into another small pile in front of the still-healing Weld. While he was sorting through them, I strode a few paces away, aimed away from him as directly as possible.

"All done!" He soon spoke out.

A look back at the metallic teen had him wearing a short-sleeved orange golf shirt, along with loose-fitting beige khaki shorts tightened with a belt-like cord. All signs of his prior damage had disappeared.

"Blackbox?" He extended a gleaming metal hand my way. "I'm Weld, of the Boston Wards. Thanks for the assist - and the clothes! I was told to look for you."

"Oh? Okay?" I shook his hand, then settled onto the matte black surface of the floor. A gesture invited him to join me, which he did. "You looked pretty messed up. What happened?"

"We're dealing with some major problems," he said, a brief frown marring his features, before he looked over the expanse of my newly upgraded space. "To make sure - how confident are you about this time dilation effect?"

"Uh… pretty good?" I shrugged. "I put it at a high enough level that we can spend as much time as needed, here."

"No worries about air supply?"

"No, I mean…" I paused, concerned. Previously, there was plenty of breathable air when this space was much smaller. I hadn't consciously directed my item-intaking abilities to actively vacuum in air, but two problems immediately came to mind. The lower priority one was the air amount and quality already present in my Box, the second - potentially disastrous in scope - was what impact even the slightest atmospheric pull would do to the outside world when done at a speed of over one hundred million times!

My mask hid a pained grimace, though it did nothing for my unstable voice. "Let me check something quick…"

I brought the view of the convenience store's parking lot up onto my Inventory Interface. More taps brought up the time dilation prompt again, and I hesitantly lowered the multiplier to its original one-to-one ratio. Each individual reduction down to a normalized time parity increased my level of confidence, especially as I rotated the view around and didn't spot a single sign of air-pressure based damage.

Weld patiently waited while I continued, casually adding some of the smaller metal pieces to himself.

In the absence of any problems, I returned the Box's time dilation multiplier up to a more reasonable one to ten-thousand. Another text search brought up a menu for air intake, which I disabled, then spent a few moments more doubling the nebulous item entry of 'air' in my Inventory Grid.

"Thanks," I finally said. "There might have been a problem there, but…" I hissed out a breath. "It didn't happen. So, that's good." A smile. "You were saying?"

"No concerns on the time dilation, then?"

I flashed him a pair of thumbs up. "All good."

"Great." He rewarded me with a smile, then continued speaking. "So… what happened was an expected problem that turned much worse. We - the Boston Wards and the Protectorate, I mean - were warned in advance about a proto-Endbringer-like monstrous cape that was a member of the Travelers. Given that 'she' wasn't an active threat, our instructions were only to immediately retreat and report if spotted."

"So the cloning parahuman issue was mentioned?" I asked.

"You know about her too?" At my nod, he continued, "if the chimera was found to be actively producing hostile clones, we had steps in place to get Legend on site, fully authorized with a kill order to take her down with less than a minute's notice. However, that plan stalled."

I rose a questioning eyebrow.

"The Butcher got involved."

"Oh. Shit."

"Yeah," Weld replied, voice equally flat. "While it would be a minor disaster if the chimera captured and started cloning variant Butchers, a worse case scenario developed: the Butcher was killed by her, and any hopes of this having such a clean end has disappeared."

"Shit." The enormity of the situation shook me, and I used the quiet moments Weld gave me to calm down. "Was there any sort of contingency plans for this?" A thought prompted another question. "Shouldn't the Endbringer alarms have been running?"

"There is a quiet panic in Boston, that is being actively suppressed. I was told that the reason the alarms haven't been sounded was because that the shelters would be targets for the new Butcher. Multiple Thinkers confirmed that warning."

"Targets…?" I dreaded the answer.

"The Butcher chimera is growing," he answered. "She's eating people to fuel that change."

"Ahh…" My exhalation turned into a sickened laugh, as a litany of curses ran through my head. 'How the fuck did this happen?! A Ziz plot? Some twisted Path by Cauldron's Contessa? Some other, unknown agent?!' It didn't really matter, now, though. "So… are there plans on how to deal with this?!"

He nodded. "Again, from bad to worse. Some secure containment sites are being prepared, but the risk of using teleporter or portal powers on the chimera are immense: what if she gains those abilities? There were already talks about wanting to wall off the entire city - to write off the entire civilian population of Boston as a lost cause."

"Shit." I repeated myself. Noelle - the Travelers' chimera, and the newest Butcher, in this case - never developed into such a massive problem in the original Worm timeline. This could become an exponentially growing disaster, worse than an Endbringer: after all, she didn't have the built in handicaps that those creatures did.

"Okay. Right." I swallowed. "What else can you tell me?"

Weld began to dispassionately lay out a timeline of events. It started with a call, directly from Accord, to Director Kamil Armstrong, warning the Boston Protectorate that their contingency plans for the Travelers' monstrous teammate were ruined, as it had become the latest Butcher. The upgraded creature had also already incorporated multiple other capes into itself, from both the Teeth and the Travelers, and was already outpouring minor tides of variant Spree clones. Director Armstrong immediately put a temporary Endbringer Truce in effect, but didn't use the city-wide warning system due to the cannibilistic threat present. The damage to the PRT's image as 'incompentent' was assessed as a calculated, lower concern.

The villianous Thinker then suggested a number of situational, escalating plans, ranging from the mild, such as permanent stasis-like effects, to the more extreme, such as Boston's containment. Accord also implied that Blackbox would be a safe counter to the newest Butcher, if he would be able to safely touch the creature. The Boston Protectorate had then been trying to get in touch with him, using frequencies given by Armsmaster, but the last anyone had heard from him - me - was at a covert Brockton Bay operation. There were even plans to reach out to the bomb Tinker Bakuda, with plans for a preemptive pardon if she could create appropriate time-locking explosive ordinance.

I used a pause in Weld's speech to unequip the earpiece Armsmaster had given me, then retrieved it from my Grid.

"It might be broken?" I showed the small piece of electronics to the Ward. "It was working fine a few hours ago, then went silent on the ride up." I didn't volunteer details of the talk I had with Coil that led to this, nor my time with the power-cancelling Pugilist or the body-doubles of Accord's Ambassadors.

"Maybe." Weld shrugged. "It might be a good idea to get it examined."

I agreed with him, stashing the item away, and he continued talking.

Legend and Dragon were already on site in the skies above, raining down precise, clandestine destruction on any targets of opportunity. They had to stay high-altitude, as the Dragon-controlled Tinker-tech aircraft had already been switch-teleported by a Trickster variant, and they didn't want to risk Legend being captured. A delicate balance had to be struck between destroying the protective clones and leaving them alone; if they were to be cleared completely, the monstrous Butcher would go on an explosive, teleport-hopping run of destruction. If, however, they let the clones run wild, they would quickly pour through the city, bringing dead - or soon to be dead - civilian inhabitants to be feed stock.

Weld was one of the very few parahumans that were safe to be near the Butcher chimera, and had been providing supporting targeting info when an ambush by a Sundancer clone attacked him. Only the efforts of Accord's Ambassadors were enough to get him extracted before he was melted to death.

"Jeez. Wow…" I massaged my forehead, amazed at how calmly he was describing the situation. "How long has this been going on? When did it start?"

"A few hours now," he replied.

I nodded, thinking back to my confrontation with the Ambassadors earlier - did this whole mess start before, during, or after that warehouse meeting? Was my screw-up even larger than I thought? The only signs of distress I allowed the Ward to see were my tightly clenched fists. At least I now had an explaination for this unnaturally empty city, and the behaviour of the few people I encountered.

"Okay," I said, letting out a breath. "I think I can handle this, but I'd rather spend some time to properly plan and decompress. How about you?"

"I don't mind the downtime," he replied, "but I don't really need it. I'm not tired, and as disastrous as things are, I'm not really personally stressed about it."

"Hmm? Okay." I scracthed at my cheek through the fabric of my costume. "That's fair. Make yourself comfy, I guess?"

Noting the rather spartan surroundings, another search through my Inventory Grid had me finding and copying some couch cushions. They were distributed to Weld and myself, with the loose piles being much more comfortable than the unyielding black floor surface of my Box.

Settling in for the long haul, I did another search for some ready-to-eat food. They were found in the form of fruits from the Alcotts', and I had nearly a full bowl's worth before my stomach was suitably satisfied. By some lucky means, I was able to 'eat' through the power-upgraded fabric of my costume's mask, my intentions being enough to intelligently pass solids through that thin barrier.

"So…" I focused my attention back on the Ward. "What do you know about me? My powers?"

"Only a small briefing blurb - non-Manton limited Striker, connected to an expandable extra-dimensional space." He smiled as he added the next details. "Protectorate affiliated hero."

"Right." I nodded, smiling back at him. It was reassuring that my full capacities weren't yet spread far and wide. "And yourself? Are you vulnerable to Masters, Thinkers…?"

He shook his head, tapping his metallic dome with a slight 'tinging' sound. "Not that much. I'm favorably Manton limited. Powers that only affect living organic beings usually don't affect me, and the same thing goes for inorganic substances."

"Mmm?" Interesting. I let my idle speculations lead me to Weld's square icon in my Grid, the movements of his small figure echoing his posture in front of me. A number of taps had his 'edit' menu pop up, revealing a menu that had features I had previously only seen in my upgrade and item combination displays. "I might be able to help you…"

His head tilted slightly to the side. "What do you mean?"

I debated on how much to share with the Ward. "So… I have a lot more powers - and potential - than that brief blurb you mentioned."

He gave me a sound of encouragement.

"Like…" I sighed. "Okay. These are details that have only been shared with Armsmaster so far, alright?"

He nodded.

"And…" My voice lowered into a grumble. "Whoever he shared them with, I imagine." A foot nervously tapped against my leg. "Are you good to keep the same level of confidence? Check with him before sharing other details - even with your own local PRT branch?"

"Yeah, I can do that," he offered, speaking only after a measured period of silent contemplation.

"Thanks." I let out a relieved breath. "Best to get this over with, then, I guess…" A number of taps at my still-floating Interface brought up the respective display, and I then adjusted the visibility so that Weld could also see it.

Installed Power Sets:

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation.

- Dinah Alcott: Interface Modifications: (1) calculate odds of desired outcome of an action or process within Inventory; (2) display rough steps for a specific desired outcome within Inventory.

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Prism: Item Modification: copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

- (The) Pugilist/the Contender: Interface Modification: parahuman-based power suppression.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens.

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs.

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

"Ta da!" I gestured towards it with as much flair that my seating arrangement could offer. "I'm a themed power copying Trump - anything that has to do with the concepts of extra-dimensional spaces, items, 'Inventory,' and so on."

He came closer, moving his couch cushions with him to get a better look at the floating display.

"What does this have to do with helping me?" He asked.

I pointed towards Dauntless' entry. "My 'upgrade' feature doesn't work quite like his." A finger-tip skimmed over the lightly glowing white square on my chest. "This costume started off as a bunch of near rags. A few 'upgrade' sessions turned it into what I'm wearing. There didn't seem to be a way to consciously direct the upgrade 'path,' but…" Another gesture pointed towards Gasconade's entry. "… but I was able to undo and redo it enough times that I was more than satisfied with the result. Given by what my Inventory Grid suggests, you yourself seem to be eligible for those kinds of 'upgrades.'"

"Why would I want that?"

I shrugged. "I know enough about you that your hearing is your best sense - the others are somewhat dimmed, right? This might be a chance to change that… or something else. I wouldn't know unless we tried."

He frowned, though whether from my admission of knowing those privately kept personal details about him or something else, I didn't know. "I'll think about it."

"Okay. That's all I can ask for." I turned back to the floating list of installed powers. "Armsmaster is also covering for me, for the power-copying angle. In turn, I'm helping him with a few things. For instance, this 'upgrade' feature also works to forcibly 'stablize' Tinker-tech, perfectly preventing normal wear and tear on those items from being a problem. Even though I'm gaining a lot from other capes, I'm thinking that I synergize even better with them. I'm aiming for win-win-win. That kind of thing."

Weld nodded.

"The caution on my end is that - previously, at least - I considered myself a bit of a vulnerable 'golden goose.' There is less of that issue right now, but I haven't really gone through this list in an exhaustive manner. I know I'm under utilizing at least some of these, so if you'd be up to brainstorming with me…?"

"Sure!"

"Great!"

We turned our attention back towards the floating list.

"Both of the Tinkers' - Armsmaster and Kid Win - powers have been explored by me, but only in regards to normal software. Amazing stuff, though…" The operating system I 'installed' and the resulting search box were my biggest wins from that. "Even with those 'installed', whatever I do to technology doesn't seem to be considered 'Tinkering' in the traditional sense, but more like valid, traditional scientific development - even if nearly instant and incremental. I don't think I could make any of the 'impossible' things that a Tinker normally could."

The Ward nodded again.

"I haven't even touched Annex's power, so…" I scrolled to the start of my Inventory Grid, finding the miniature, moving mirror of myself. Focused intention on my heavily upgraded costume revealed another option: 'install.'

That tap instantly changed my perspective, as I painlessly collapsed to the ground.

My transition to becoming my costume seemingly turned my whole self into a boneless mass of fabric.

From my slumped position on the floor, my senses extended out from all parts of my 'body' equally. The only discretion I retained was where my focus was aimed.

Weld, still sitting on his own cushion pile, appeared to loom over my self as I unsteadily waved a floppy arm his way.

His own gesture was far more polished in return.

My attempt to talk went nowhere, as did breathing - I had nothing to talk with.

'Annoying.'

I spent some more time getting roughly comfortable in my movements, slithering around, then 'uninstalled' myself from my costume. Thankfully, I appeared back within my safety blanket, in a snugly secured fit.

"That was interesting!" I relished the opportunity to talk and breathe again. "Have you had a chance to see Annex in person?"

Weld shrugged. "Just the odd meet and greet. We haven't practiced together." He paused, changing the subject. "How was that?"

"So-so," I started, before changing my answer to a more confident, "weird. I sort of expected to instantly go into a hyperventilating panic, but being my costume didn't seem that uncomfortable… it might actually be more durable than my current body? I'd have to experiment with it…"

"Maybe when the pressure of an S-class emergency isn't outside your space?"

"True…" I coughed in embaressment. While time dilation removed that pressure, I didn't want to mess around just for the sake of messing around. "Okay. Moving forward… this still might take a while. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks, Blackbox." He patted his cushion pile. "Though I'm good for now."

I pulled the list of parahuman powers back towards me. "Browbeat's and Miss Militia's powers both gave me the same kind of problem: I've been given the abilities, without the source or knowledge behind them. I don't want to muck around with biology without knowing what I'm doing, and as amazing as Miss Militia's multi-weaponry is, I don't have the power-backed database she is connected to."

"Could you gain that knowledge? Or access to her 'database'?"

"Ah… I don't know?" Access to the continential-scale bodies or the shard-space based mental realities of the shards that backed parahuman powers was a complex issue. Apart from likely necessary abilities, such as Doormaker's portals, I'd likely also need an interior volume an order of magnitude higher.

"Likely complicated," I answered instead, "and not really critical at this point."

Weld didn't press me to explain further, and I turned back to the list. "I'm already using Clockblocker's stasis a lot. It makes storage in my Grid safer."

"Grid?"

On the right side of my Inventory interface, I outlined the series of small squares that were laid out in a grid-like manner. "This Box here," I said, gesturing around us, "is considered the 'extra space,' while the 'Grid' is a more like a tightly packed storage system. No air, light, room to move, et cetera. Rather uncomfortable."

"I can imagine."

"Yeah…" I didn't tell him of my own panicked experiences. "For Chevalier…" I froze, then rapidly panned between the power list and Weld. "Shit. Um. You see that 'Item Properties' bit?"

"Yes?"

"It is a PRT/Protectorate 'top secret' kind of deal. Armsmaster probably knows about it - especially since he has also seen this list…" The thought of it being a minor clusterfuck was running through my head. "… but it is even more of a big deal than my own. Let's not speculate about what it can or can't do, okay?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks." There were many worse people I could have accidents in front of. I was just glad that it was Weld, instead of some sort of power-tripping PRT member. "I've experimented a bit with his item combining, with this costume being the best example of it. I've put in different traits from diamonds, carbon, Teflon, and so on. This would be one of the things that could work with you."

A curious glance at the metallic teen had him slowly nodding, but not otherwise commenting.

"And for Cuff? I didn't really test it out. I don't have or use a lot of metals, especially since this all only works within my Inventory."

I shuffled closer to Weld, moving the power listing square to the side, as I scrolled through my Grid. Three small, frozen figures were indicated. "Dinah Alcott and both her parents, safe and in stasis. I was originally supposed to escort them to New York, via Strider, but some… complications… developed." I huffed. "This Butcher disaster is just one more."

A squint preceded Weld's question. "Is there a limit to how many people you can store like this?"

I shrugged, gesturing around us while turning my head to follow. "This empty space here? This is how much more people - or anything - I can store."

"… that's a lot."

"Yep! I don't know if the expandable mechanics were shared, but I think the balloon analogy works best: fill them with air, and they stretch out. The only problem is that I have to fill up the whole space before it expands - and the bigger the whole space gets, the more of challenge that will be."

"How did you get it this large, then?"

My smile was hidden behind my mask. "Unstable water!" I chuckled at his expression of confusion, then glanced back at the list. "Going back to Dinah - precog extraordinaire - I just recently installed her powers. I don't quite know how the 'within Inventory' limiting factor will play out… might need some more testing."

"Is there any chance or randomness within your abilities? You mentioned upgrading your costume? That might be one way to check."

"Yes…" I drew out the word. "The 'upgrade' ability from Dauntless is a little bit unpredictable. While I can use it to make 'unstable' items - copies, Tinker-tech - 'stable,' when used on normally stable items, their enhancement qualities are somewhat random." I gave Weld another curious glance, but stopped myself from pushing the 'upgrade' question his way. "That ability meshed kinda irregularly with my own… moving on!"

"I already gifted Armsmaster with a stable version of one of Dispatch's time-acceleration bubbles. It's the reason I was able to set up this space here with a high time dilation." The ability to weaponize such effects were made possible in the absence of the donor parahuman's barriers, which normally bordered the edge of his sped-up time bubbles.

"I can make emotionally charged projectiles, and view the emotional auras of living beings. But… I tend to not have reason to do either of those."

"Do you think that your Master effects would persist outside of here?"

"Sure?" I shrugged. "This is a case of creating source items - those emotional orbs - not the end effect. But, just like Gallant's, I don't think I could anchor or connect those feelings to something."

I put away thoughts of Mastering others. "The thirty seconds of 'undoing' came from Gasconade. I've used it a lot."

Next entry. "The only things I got from Mouse Protector was the ability to tag items and teleport to them - but I can only do both of those within my Inventory."

"What if she tags something that goes into here?"

"Well, then…" I blinked. "I dunno? Wireless signals pass through my interface window, so… its possible? Maybe even others' teleports? Hmm…"

The entry of 'power blocking' in my search bar popped up a simplistic prompt. The box only had 'on' and 'off' options, preventing the sort of fine-tuning I'd be interested in. As the Pugilist's power-suppression abilities were very much an 'all or nothing' effect, I'd need something much more targeted. Citrine, of Accord's Ambassadors, might be able to provide such. Otherwise, I'd be able to use the toggle to suppress more problematic abilities of others in the form of a widespread ban.

As the power blocking wasn't active, it was very possible that things like Mouse Protector's teleporting or Doormaker's portals would be a risk. The only counter-point to such would be my very first identified abilities, blocking the remote perceptions of others. 'Blind' teleports wouldn't care about such a restriction.

"The Pugilist's arena is rather either-or, isn't it?" I muttered, then realized Weld likely wouldn't know about the power canceller.

Instead, he surprised me.

"I've seen the odd mentions of him on PHO, though the mods tend to remove anything that hints of his fights."

"Oh?" My thoughts jumbled up into a mess. "He.. um… he's from Earth Bet?"

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't he be?"

"Ah." My shrug was painfully awkward, even as I was doing it. That little fact makes Coil's acquisition of him much more reasonable. "I learnt something new."

"Happy to help!"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks. Now, we have… Myrddin! The sorta-wizard himself! Even though he is supposed to have a grab-bag's worth of abilities, I only obtained a limited portal and some sort of vague power viewing ability."

Weld examined the entry, then asked a question. "Does this space itself count as a pocket dimension?"

I suppressed my immediate negative response. "Maybe…? I could test that quickly…"

Guided by a vague plan of what I was hoping would work, I scrolled down my Grid to find a blank square. The 'new item' prompt was willed into existence.

New Item:

Accelerated time bubble. Bound semi-sentient omni-item. Emotional projectile. Light-energy refining/condensing lens. Portal. Variable charge, programmable energy orb.

Selecting the 'Portal' option with a tap, the small form of a white square appeared in the blank space. Rather than attempt to edit it there, I reached into the black Grid square and pulled out the lightly glowing white shape.

Weld let out a huff of a surprise.

Barely holding the weightless object, I brought it over to the other side of my Inventory Interface: the 'window' looking out at the small parking lot. With some tentative stretching, I pulled the glimmering portal into a shape that matched that 'window,' and pressed them together. With maybe the slightest tint of a now familiar rippling heat haze, they merged, and the window's borders subtly lit up.

My focus on this modified feature brought up a massive list of permissions and options.

"Well." I swallowed, glancing over at the attentively watching figure of Weld, "I think I just solved my lack of Mover powers."

Chapter 11 - INVENTORY Notes

Chapter 11 - INVENTORY Notes

Total Interior Dimensions/Volume:

- Chapter start: ~ 1.5 cubic kilometers.

SETTINGS - Inventory Style:

- Extra-dimensional Space Window Portal + Slots (grid).

- Alternate Screens: Spatial Adjustment Interface, Paperdoll (Vitruvian Man - modified).

SETTINGS - Inventory-wide Effects:

- Mage's Private Sanctum (*modified): All others' externally sourced perception and divination methods aimed into the Inventory see only a dark, foggy mass. Audible sounds, in both directions, are stopped at the Inventory threshold. Outward aiming perceptions, as well as special connections and communication methods, work as normal.

- Obscure Object (*modified): All others' remote perception or divination methods automatically fail when targeting the Inventory, and fail to perceive the Inventory if targeted nearby.

SETTINGS - Inventory Settings:

- Brightness: effects interface and extra-dimensional space brightness (max: halogen lamp).

SETTINGS - Inventory-connected Scripts:

- Anti-brightness

- Anti-generalized attacks

- Anti-loud sounds

- Anti-hotness

- Anti-bugs

- Anti-electricity

- Self to Box

- Grid items get stasis

- Living items to Grid

- Instant single-copy (of one or more items)

- Water duping

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sets:

-Weld: Item Modification: metal into living metal.

Installed Power Sets - New:

Installed Power Sets - old

- Armsmaster: Item Modifications: (1) miniaturize technology; (2) increase technological efficiency; (3) hybridize/combine technology.

- Annex: Item Modification: spatial shaping adjustment. Item State: install/uninstall into item.

- Browbeat: Item Modification: modify living biological.

- Clockblocker: Item State: temporal stasis.

- Chevalier: Item Modification: selectively combine multiple properties into one item. Item Properties: view metaphorical power representation.

- Cuff: Item Modification: metal manipulation. [Not Applicable: enhanced physique; post-damage resistance boost.]

- Dinah Alcott: Interface Modifications: (1) calculate odds of desired outcome of an action or process within Inventory; (2) display rough steps for a specific desired outcome within Inventory.

- Dispatch: New Item: bubble of accelerated time. Interface Modification: accelerate time.

- Dauntless: Item Modification: unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

- Gallant: Item Properties: view emotional aura of living being. New Item: emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Gasconade: Item Modification: Undo (reverse 30 seconds within Inventory).

- Kid Win: Item Modification: modularize technology.

- Miss Militia: New Item: bound semi-sentient omni-item. [Not Applicable: enhanced weapon use; removed sleep requirement; enhanced memory.]

- Mouse Protector: Item Modification: teleport tagging. Interface Modification: teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory). [Not Applicable: enhanced agility, coordination, stamina.]

- Myrddin: New Item: Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory). Item Properties: view (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

- Prism: Item Modification: copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

- (The) Pugilist/the Contender: Interface Modification: parahuman-based power suppression.

- Raymancer: New Item: light-energy refining/condensing lens. [Not Applicable: energy beams.]

- Revel: New Item: [*unspecified*] energies [highly unstable]. New Item: variable charge, programmable energy orbs. [Not Applicable: flight.]

- Scapegoat: Item Modification: cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects. New Items: [*unspecified*] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Shuffle: teleport land and land-based effects (within Inventory).

- Strider: [mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Triumph: Interface Modification: sound/volume manipulation.

- Vista: New Interface: spatial manipulation. Item Modification: spatial properties.

SETTINGS - Inventory Upgraders - Power Sources:

1) Parahuman: connect via micro-portal to alternate universe energy sources. [Only tracking if plot relevant.]

SETTINGS - Installed Upgrades:

Installed Upgrades - Technological:

Installed Upgrades - Technological- old

- Faraday cage.

- Prototype graphical user interface template (Tinker-tech software).

- Filtration: water purifier, HVAC/air filter.

- Temperature adjustment: air conditioner/heater unit (fan N/A), fridge, freezer & ice-maker, thermostat.

- Fabricators: 3D printer (plastic-based, basic), paper combo-printer (scanner, fax, photocopy, print).

- Communication/interactive devices: scientific calculator, lap-top computer, smart phone, (multi-button) mouse, walkie-talkie, internet router, WiFi hot-spot. Television antenna.

- Light adjustment: flashlight, laser pen-light, halogen lamp, UV light, dimmer switch.

- Media display: television, radio (analog + digital), projector, computer monitor.

- Media players/writers: VHS player, Beta-mix player, record player, cassette player, CD/DVD reader.

- Power related: car battery, electric power outlets adapter/converter. Electric outlet box, uninterruptible power supply, surge protector/power bar.

- Sensors/measurement devices: wrist-watch, barometer, digital/laser level, heat/cold, motion/proximity, speed, infrared, light, smoke/gas/fire/air quality, touch/position/tilt, colour, magnetic, microphone.

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman:

Installed Upgrades - Parahuman

Interface Modification:

- Accelerate time.

- Sound/volume manipulation.

- Teleportation to tagged item (within Inventory).

- Parahuman-based power suppression.

- Calculate odds of desired outcome of an action or process (within Inventory).

- Display rough steps for a specific desired outcome (within Inventory).

Item Modifications (all):

- [Go-to] teleport tagging (Inventory interior).

- [Mass] teleportation (Inventory interior).

- Undo (reverse prior 30 seconds).

- Copy (pseudo-linked-state) item.

Item Modifications (areas):

- [landbound] teleportation (Inventory interior).

Item Modifications (technology):

- Hybridize/combine technology.

- Increase technological efficiency.

- Miniaturize technology.

- Modularize technology.

Item Modifications (living):

- Cut and paste mental, physical, and/or power-induced effects.

- Modify living biological (mildly unstable).

Item Modifications (non-living):

- Selectively combine multiple properties into one item.

- Spatial properties adjusting.

- Spatial shaping adjustment.

- Unconscious-influenced conceptual item upgrading (1/day).

Item Modifications (metals):

- Metal manipulation; metallokinesis.

Item Properties (living):

- View emotional aura.

- View metaphorical power representation.

- View (limited) power/ability usage requirements.

Item State:

- Install/uninstall into item.

- Temporal stasis.

New Interface:

- Spatial manipulation.

New Items:

- Accelerated time bubble (unstable).

- Bound semi-sentient omni-item.

- Emotional projectile (highly unstable).

- Light-energy refining/condensing lens (unstable).

- Portal (programmable variable two-way; to pocket dimensions; within Inventory).

- [unspecified] energies (highly unstable).

- [unspecified] mental, physical, power-induced effects (highly unstable).

- Variable charge, programmable energy orbs (unstable).

Power Sources

- [Will only track if plot relevant.]

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Left Square:

- An extra-dimensional viewing window and access portal.

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

INVENTORY INTERFACE - Right Square:

-'Airplane' icon for 'airplane mode' for the entire interface on bottom far left corner.

- Grid of items (black with white lines).

- Volume filled: simple number with percentage, in the bottom middle. (e.g. "~ 1%")

- Date and time format: 'Friday, April 1st, 2011 - 3:47 AM.' Middle right; between volume amount and settings gear.

- Settings gear icon in bottom right.

- Grouped button: bottom far right, to the left of the settings icon. (HAS: calculator, radio, television, media viewer/library, power outlets, current electric charge)

- Blackbox-space apps button: to left of grouped button. (HAS: lights, temperature control, air monitor)

- Communications apps button: to left of Blackbox-space apps button. (HAS: phone, walkie-talkie, fax, e-mail, chat, web browser, audio/video recorder)

- Visibility slider/toggle: bottom far left, to the right of the airplane icon.

- A 'search bar' beside a magnifying glass icon (for launching Interface-installed operating system).

- A keyboard-like interface [hidden].

Notable Inventory contents:

- Accord's Ambassadors (non-parahuman employees): one valet suit wearing man.

- Vehicles: one heavily damaged black sports car.

- Weld (Case 53 parahuman; Boston Ward).

Notable Inventory contents - old

- A small, random selection of items that may have been in a restaurant's trash.

- $7.03 in USA coinage.

- Stationary: some lined paper, along with a black pen and marker.

- PRT-brand clothing: dark blue, assorted mix; multiple days worth.

- Cheap white domino masks: a few.

- Original clothing: black long-sleeved shirt, black trousers.

- Cardboard boxes: lots.

- A large, zipper-closed, black fabric covered binder.

- An (unsigned) identical copy of the final contract between Blackbox and the PRT.

- A thin book of PRT rules and regulations.

- Various legal-sized paper documents: affiliate hero, a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- Two (2) identity cards: (1) affiliate hero 'Blackbox', (2) a 'legal entity' of a 'mobile prison.'

- A debit card for the Brockton Bay Bank.

- Two (2) black access fobs for the downtown PRT HQ.

- Two (2) maps: (1) Brocton Bay city, (2) PRT headquarters (redacted and simplified).

- PRT-labelled photo-ID lanyard.

- A costume sketch for Blackbox (signed by Ramon, PRT image consultant).

- A double-sized bed, with sheets, blankets, and pillows, all earth-toned.

- A USB key that has some proof-of-concept Tinker-tech software on it.

- Water.

- A highly upgraded, power-enhanced costume.

- A small sample kit of originally 20 different elements, substances, and/or compounds.

- A PRT-modified, generic-looking white van.

- The entire contents of the Alcotts' house interior, from every room, including their garage.

- A wood slab door with glass inserts.

- A burner phone (known of by Coil).

- Dinah Alcott, with her mother and father (all three held in stasis).

- Coil's mercenaries: six, fully equipped.

- Accord's Ambassadors (non-parahuman employees): one body-double of Citrine, two formal suit wearing men.

- Vehicles: two black stretch limos, one armoured black SUV, one armoured black van.

- Stasis-frozen Duplicates (2): Blackbox/Ozzy Grey, the Pugilist.

Blackbox self-identified traits:

- Name: Ozzy Grey (civilian), Blackbox (cape).

- Human-appearing, augmented mutant aberration.

- Biologically immortal.

- Immune to mind-affecting effects, extra-normal perceptions, and supernatural information gathering and divination methods.

Notables that have been inside Inventory:

- Protectorate: (see other lists).

- Wards: (see other lists).

- Other: Dinah Alcott. The Pugilist/the Contender.

A/N: Any guess as to *how* things develop?

Not a Chapter - Thoughts & Questions

Not a Chapter - Thoughts & Questions

Apoligies, no chapter this month.

A combination of moving living spaces, (new) shift work schedules (with erratic sleep), and (mild) creative burnout are the reasons.

Instead, I'll be using this post to write up a bunch of thoughts about this fic, as well as put out a number of questions. Reader thoughts and replies are both welcome and encouraged.

Critical Evaluations:

- Too much of the 'self' in 'self insert.' The tendencies of being introverted, preferring one-on-one dialogues, and more, have tended to rule the (in character) chosen interpersonal interactions in the fic (being one on one), as well as the described writing itself (e.g. multiple people/group scenes are glossed over, while small interpersonal dialogues get more screen time).

- Excessive single character focus. Ties into the SI point above. Ideally, some sort of solid friendship or romantic interest would have been worked in.

- Turtling. A certain powerset (like the one in this fic!) encourages and supports the idea of defensive 'turtling.' By that term, I basically mean locked up behind/within a massive set of defenses, at a moderate to far distance from the 'action.' Normally, a sort of 'sequence breaker' - outside literary event, Endbringer attack, etc - could be the basis for an interruption of this 'turtling.' However, when the defences are TOO total/perfect, the only thing that makes sense is either time skips or epilogues.

- Power monologues, or talking about powers to/with others. This problem is seen in any fic where a large number of (new) powers are gained (or otherwise change) quickly, such as in Celestial Forge fics, power copy fics, etc. Eventually, entire chapters can (and do!) end up being nothing but (re-) flipping through new (or old!) powers.

Improvement Ideas:

- Agressive friendship, AKA 'imposed' friendship, done by (one or more) other characters towards the SI. It would also need to be accepted, on some level, or at least not properly/effectively rebuffed.

- Skip, avoid, skim over, etc, anything and everything to do with rehashing powers.

- If 'turtling' is present, just do an "and for XYZ days, I did ABC" kind of entry.

- Self-challenge as a writer, by doing hard/avoided scenes such as group interactions and chaotic power fights.

- Try for 'Rule of Cool' and 'Rule of Awesome' (sometimes!), instead of more rational, logical restraint.

What (I Think!) I Have Done Well:

- Sentence/reading flow.

- Technical aspects, such as grammer, spelling, etc.

- Consistent take on the Worm-verse, and the characters within it.

- Nothing (obviously/overtly) suspension-of-disbelief breaking.

QUESTIONS!

- Anything obvious (or subtle) missing from the above evaluation or improvement ideas?

- Suggestions for characters in whom (at least mostly honest) 'aggressive friendships' would make sense for the person doing the trying, as well as for wanting to be returned?

- Apart from time skips, what would be some effective 'turtling' breakers? Do 'journal entry' style?

TIA & thanks for reading!

~AB