Chapter 177: 167. Russians and Crafts

Jay looked around the abandoned magic science facility of a secret Russian naval base. The base was north of the Rank 4 lair. It was hidden on the coast of an island sandwiched between the East Siberian Sea, the Chukchi Sea, and the greater Arctic Ocean that was north of them. The place was well-within the Arctic Circle. Even with summer drawing closer, the temperatures remained frigid here. Maybe even more so than usual. There could be magic in the weather nowadays.

The Commander of Challenge and Change stood on a steel walkway overlooking a docking station designed for a massive submarine. The biggest submarine in the world. It had sailed off already. All Jay knew now came from the rapid-fire reports of his Agents of Change. The Protectorates were exploring the facility level by level, room by room. Shouts, magic blasts, and Skill-versus-Skill exchanges sounded out from around the base as Soldiers, Agents, familiars, and new recruits fought small scale and tactical skirmishes against the Russian Warmade.

The cyborgs resulted from magitek experimentations with prisoners from the gulags serving as guinea pigs. There were lots of signs of nuclear magic getting involved, too. Emily needed to be on standby to kill off the more aggressive forms of radiation sickness if the lesser healers couldn’t cleanse it. Both Jay and Emily could feel the spiritual pain of past victims echoing through the entire facility, too. Before they leave this place, the [Freak] and [Medium] would have to work on an incantation together to help send the spirits on their way to rest in peace or rejoin the cycle elsewhere.

“It’s confirmed,” Hailey said, projecting an illusion of herself next to Jay. She tapped her illusionary talons over the railings. “The Russians lost control of the experiments here. Some cyborgs have gone raving mad. Others regained their autonomy. But there ought to be more.”

“How many more?”

“Thousands. And some of the missing cyborgs are unique.”

“Are the rest on the submarine?”

“Yes.”

“That can’t fit thousands even if it’s the world’s biggest.” Jay hummed. “Unless they’ve figured out spatial magic.”

“I was just about to get to that. I found the notes. They’ve figured it out. And they got good at it.”

“Of course they have.”

Jay stroked his chin with his tail. He looked up just in time for a Warmade to kick free of the air duct. The Level 55 humanoid jumped down and rattled the walkway with a clang. 

It had been a man once, which Jay could see, but the fusion of nuclear magic and heartless magitek experimentation had forsaken its humanity. A mini green reactor glowed from its chest. Steel tubes wove in and out of its cancer-ravaged flesh. The tubes connected the exposed core to its clunky and robust metal fists and feet and joints.

Attacking that core was a trap. The magitek creature had high Poise, especially closer to the core, and physical attacks applied against its power source could lead to an undesirable blast that might not kill it. The blast would most likely harm or kill the attacker.

Fighting these creatures was like facing an inverted Ironman. The magic-machinery was placed more inside of the flesh except for the ends of the limbs, the joints, and the portions of the skull that gleamed with a metal finish. Meticulously designed optical lens for eyes zeroed in on both Jay and the projection of Hailey. It could see them despite [Champion Cloaking], the robotic eyes serving as replacements rather than mere technology to record and submit.

The cyborg opened its mouth and let out a horrible wail covered in static from having its voice box tampered. Then it bolted at them with a burst of energy, leaving a trail of green radiation that melted parts of the walkway behind it.

Hailey conjured a few hungry crows that darted at the monster’s legs. The crows ripped at the limbs with their steel-tearing beaks.

The cyborg screamed. It launched into the air, one of its legs falling behind while the other dangled by a steel cord. It didn’t care. It aimed an irradiated metal punch down at Jay’s head.

Jay didn’t move. He wasn’t even facing the creature. He was still looking down at the docking station where the world’s biggest submarine had been constructed with enough spatial magic to hold thousands of nuclear cyborgs.

“Dark Mana Beam,” Hailey’s illusion said, casting the 3rd Circle spellcraft right before the cyborg reached them.

A small ball of dark Mana gathered in front of Hailey. The ball fired a torrent of dark concussive energy that disrupted magic. Hailey’s illusion blasted the cyborg backward and bust up some of its magic machinery with one blow. The cyborg smashed into the hanger door frame and fell onto the dock, crumpled and broken, but still alive.

“Great Individual Ruination,” Hailey’s illusion cast as the finisher.

Just like Jay’s gravity abilities, curses flew out as magic fields to catch one target or multiple in a net. These types of abilities could never truly be anything instant or indefensible. However, Hailey could also set her curses as traps using special items or by weaving the curses into a location with triggers. This required extra rune work, which could multiply the runic difficulty needed to inscribe and cast.

Thankfully, Hailey was an artist with rituals.

The curse she cast on the cyborg specifically targeted its machinery and stopped the curse from spreading. Human flesh and a subdued fog of green radiation remained as the metal stuff fell in rust shavings. Even a monster at the height of Rank 3 couldn’t compete against an illusion of Hailey’s. Her illusion had stripped its Poise, subdued its magic, and slayed it with minimal collateral.

There were probably scientists of magic and science out in the world who would want the machinery preserved rather than the flesh. But those minds weren’t among the Protectorates. Lilith would want the flesh to design alchemical weapons and countermeasures for nuclear magic. Macy would never stain her hands with such clumsy magitek work.

“Macy would hate to see all of this,” Hailey said. “She’s really grown to love her vocation now. She likes it more than the fighting, actually.”

Jay nodded. He’d heard some talk amid the Champions. Macy had been pushing her constructs to fight more in her stead as part of Company FAAHI But Bigger. That was a unique avenue of growth for her. And she could still level up from her efforts as a [Crafter]. But both avenues were slower than having her play her part as a direct combative.

Jay wondered if the Protectorates reached the point where a Champion or two or three might take a backseat in the fighting. That was a weird concept for Jay to stomach. It was almost like Casey’s situation, but one born out of choice.

If Champions took the slower paths for growth, they would eventually be too weak for Jay to involve in larger fights directly. But letting Macy stay home and craft to her heart’s desire was highly beneficial for the pantheon, too. And Macy could level up consistently, even if it was at a moderate pace rather than in big bursts that were gained from huge and difficult fights.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready to let Macy sit home,” Jay said. “Her constructs cannot replace someone like her on the battlefield.”

“But we risk one of our greatest assets by having her fight,” Hailey said, her voice edging into the political realm. “What if it was Macy who had her Death Flag realized? At least Dennis had an out with the mystery of his affinity playing a part. Emily had an easy time reviving Dennis. But that might not be the case with Macy.”

“You’re all at risk,” Jay said.

“But some are more at risk than others,” Hailey murmured. “It would be the most dreadful thing to lose Macy, wouldn’t it? How easy would that ruin most of our advantages? The narrative would love it.”

“It would be dreadful to lose any of you,” Jay said.

“Yes. But we both know, Commander, that out of all of your Champions, Macy is the most irreplaceable. Even other [Crafter-types] who pour AP into Discovery are pale comparisons to her. Lilith sings praises of Macy and how needed she is.”

Jay lowered his head. “Be patient.”

“I am,” Hailey hissed.

“Maybe after the Uk-Guk-Gara. After YoAnna’s Stage 2. Macy’s role as a Champion can be shifted in a new direction.”

“Setting a timeline for it endangers her, Jay,” Hailey said.

“I can’t make it instant.”

“Every path is fraught with danger and the unknown, huh?”

“Yes, Hailey.”

“Then welcome to having the Sword of Damocles, Jay, where you get to point it at all who attends your court. Look where your ego has led you, roads to death for all.”

Jay winced at her vicious words.

Hailey’s unseelie nature could lash out like a beak ripping at flesh. She was pretty savvy in speaking on narratives and fourth-dimensional shenanigans, especially since she was big into dark fantasy. She also invested heavily into both Perception and Intellect, having chosen two preferred Attributes to acquire the [Magical Magnificence] Talent.

She could naturally catch a whiff or a vision of the beyond, understanding the workings of madness Jay was more in-tune with now. And Hailey’s Unseelie Affinity gave her fairy-like understanding.

He looked up at her illusion and saw the vicious protectiveness of an intelligent, political, and matured sister of the Allens. And she was willing to turn her talons on Jay and make him bleed a little if it meant protecting Macy. That sort of loyalty was devoted and loving and fierce. The Allens closeness was another thing on Jay’s list to protect from the negative narratives of the System. 

Jay grabbed The Sword of Comedy and felt reassured of his stance.

“I need to talk to Macy directly,” Jay said. “And give myself time to consider it. Until then, we have to trust things will be alright.”

“For you, Jay,” Hailey replied. “It will be alright for you. Good or bad. You will grow.”

“Don’t you have spells and ideas you’ve journaled on how to kill me,” Jay whispered with a smirk.

“I have a curse for everyone,” Hailey said.

“But I have the most, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.”

“And why is that?”

Hailey narrowed her eyes. “It’s an interesting challenge.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s an interesting challenge,” she repeated with a grunt.

“Challenge, huh?”

Jay turned and stared directly at Hailey’s real body deep within the facility. She froze while hunched over a pile of notes detailing the Russian experiments of the past half year. She turned to face him, knowing no walls could stop the feeling of his eyes laying upon her.

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“You joined up to play with magic beyond your dreams, Hailey. You accepted being Her Champion even though we didn’t have a clue of what that entailed. And you’re here now in a world that’s ours for the taking once we get past the challenges. This world would be a launchpad to greater things for you to shape to your liking as Secretary Hailey. Don’t act like you aren’t reaping more and more benefits, too.”

Hailey Allen wasn’t really a good person. She honestly didn’t care about most people.

Her mom had been a political canvasser and an owner of her own public relations firm. A lot of what made Hailey talented in politics had come from her mom, and a lot of Hailey’s darker experiences were born from a mom who had not been around or raised Hailey to put on a show of being the perfect single mother in front of guests and political allies.

When the offer to go live with her dad had arrived, Hailey took it. She became closer with her half-sisters than she had with anyone.

Her life prior to meeting her sisters and going to Central High had been nothing but politics at home, politics at her private schools, and politics everywhere in between. And through that lens, Hailey had seen the ugly side of humanity, and what people would do to get a leg up on others. She had become that, even. So despite Jay not liking the direction the world was going, and preferring the original promise of a smooth transition into the System Apocalypse, he knew the words he’d spoken would bring out Hailey’s darker side.

Hailey smiled.

“World domination does sound marvelous in my opinion,” Hailey said. “Lilith’s so loud and crass on the subject. I prefer to be a bit more classy about it.”

“It’s screwed up that it’s happening when weren’t supposed to become this,” Jay said. “We were supposed to be heroes. And we’re still operating like heroes. So why does it feel like we’re not truly?”

“Speaking like the spunky Jay before he became Commander,” Hailey teased. “YoAnna wouldn’t have implemented Agents of Change if she wasn’t prepared to take over the world more aggressively. And look, Jay. We’ve tried to do things the right way. But we were set up to fail from the start. The System Admins. The Benefactors. Now the Americans, Russians, and whoever else is out there creating problems for us. It’s always going to end the same. We will try to do good, but then we will murder lots of people who get in our way in the name of doing good.”

Then in a sultry voice, Hailey said, “And you can’t deny that you enjoy the killing and slaughter, too. You’re a fucked up hero, and the mask you wear is more artistic than fitting, really. So try not to think so hard about it and keep drinking.”

Jay grimaced. “Then be prepared to risk it all. Including your sisters. Casey’s either going to achieve greatness or die. Macy’s still needed on the forefront to help counter these Warmade whenever they decide to show up at an inconvenient time.”

“I figured you would say that,” Hailey said. “Casey’s fate is something I’m already learning to accept. I just wanted to make sure Macy’s Champion status will be under review.”

Ah. Hailey had pushed hard on Jay to get him to think about Macy’s case seriously. It was not for him to make a snap decision.

As sinister as Hailey’s dark side could be, she loved her sisters. She had liked her dad, too, so his loss had a real impact on her. And she treated the Protectorates as her home. She still did lots of good work even if she didn’t care about people outside of the pantheon. Even if it was pretend. At the very least, the act of her seeming to care had helped plenty of people they’d come across on this tour.

It was ironic how Hailey and Emily were the closest together, but Hailey was more villainous while Emily was more heroic. They both had dark and deadly powers. But their outlooks and origins were different. The effect they had on others were different, too.

People would flock in droves to Hailey because of how easily she could speak to them. But those same people would run from Emily even if she was trying to offer them healing. Hailey and Emily clicked the best, anyway. It showed in their powers since they synergized, and it showed when they hung out the most.

But after getting to know them both, Jay couldn’t help but describe Hailey as sins and temptations while describing Emily as virtues and struggles. Hailey was still a damn good drinking partner. But Emily was someone who’d help you stay sober. They reminded him of Lilith and Mike sometimes. His devils and angels.

Jay sighed. “I still want to be a hero of comedy.”

Hailey did the nicest thing. She kept her opinion to herself and went back to work.

***

Jay watched the sparks fly off the edge of his new Gravity Tomahawk (Superior). He ran it over the grinder gently for the final touch. A smile crossed his face as he looked over the silvery purple axe head. One end could cleave into flesh with ease while the other end had a spike for puncturing armor. He’d used the logs made from the Black Steel Trees for the handle. The axe head had come from Great Quality Hellsteel from the 6th Hell Circle mixed with Superior Quality Siberian Coldsteel found in the original Rank 4 lair of the Titan King.

He could’ve used the Rare Quality materials Company Graven Divinity had gathered. But Jay had given strict orders that Macy should be the first to craft with Rare Quality loot.

Given enough time and a serious surplus of loot, Jay expected Macy could take Rare Quality loot and make an Epic Quality item. That was the equivalent of a Rank 6 in power, Level 151 to 210.

Lilith might beat Macy to the punch, but Lilith’s creations were for nothing but causing mass death and harm if they weren’t recovery potions. Whatever sinister Epic Quality product Lilith developed would force Jay to have it locked deep in one of the vaults. It would be for safe keeping as part of their ‘Make The Geneva Convention Cry’ plan. They already had a crate of Necro Flame Bombs (Rare) and others stored away.

Jay held up his new weapon. His eyes glanced over the bands of tiny purple runes he’d inscribed down the black surface of the handle. Once the System recognized the item’s completion, the runes faded inside of the weapon, becoming an inherent part of the Gravity Tomahawk. It took him weeks to make this thing. He was weak as a [Crafter] compared to his abilities as an off brand [Fighter] and [Medium]. But now he had something that would help him as an off brand [Mage].

Gravity Tomahawk (Superior)– This weapon is both a survival tool and murder stick. It’s attuned to your affinity and can grant small enhancements when you channel your abilities through it. It can be used to inscribe spellcraft, and it has multiple spellcraft rituals embedded inside for limited uses. You can cast Gravity Ball, Grav Barrier, Trapper-g, Bolting-g, Tiniest Black Hole. Because of your heartfelt and freakish nature while crafting this item, enough spiritual latency seeped inside for the tomahawk to serve as a weak talisman.

Sweet!

Talismans enhanced incantations. Or they could store the magic of an incantation and release it at risk of breaking the talisman. The big magical miracles of the Multiverse didn’t like being contained and reused like spells. It was not advisable to use talismans for storing incantations unless you were okay with sacrificing the item. Every miracle scraped away at the powers of the divine, and the divine wanted those powers to remain sacred.

Though, Jay imagined there weren’t many talismans out there that could act like his tomahawk– a receptacle of multiple disciplines of Miraculous Magic Science. A tool ingrained with his affinity. A weapon that enhanced his abilities when channeled. An off brand wand that could inscribe rituals and shoot out gravity spells at his behest. And it served as a talisman that upped his power in spiritual matters.

Jay imagined the effects of [Jester of the Death Court] would be a little stronger on him while wielding the tomahawk. [Devil of Gravity], too. The tomahawk wasn’t as powerful as The Sword of Comedy, but the tomahawk made for a great intermediate weapon when Jay wanted to reserve his sword for the most serious of occasions. It felt right to only draw The Sword of Comedy when in the face of true evil, the strongest of enemies, or those who flew the banners of tragedy.

But now that Jay had the tomahawk complete in his hand, he felt a shade of sadness. Marvelous Mary was gone. Doug was gone. The fighting in Paris had tired out their spirits and damaged their receptacles. Mike, Lilith, Kleo, and Fuzzy had used the spiritual energy of his former weapons to reforge Excalibur into The Sword of Comedy. But the sword didn’t have their spiritual personalities. Nor did the Gravity Tomahawk.

With the loss of Mary and Doug– and his other losses that he didn’t want to think about now– Jay felt a touch lonely as he slipped the tomahawk in a loop on his right hip. It was a good fit. It still didn’t remove the hollow feeling Jay felt in his chest. Kleo was busy with a fight right now. He could see the dips in his Mana Status. He could also see the dips in his Health Status and Stamina Status. They’d never talked about it much. But Kleo was a part of Jay more than the gravity duo let on. She was doing okay, though.

She was probably taking a few risks to get in some big plays. If something bad happened, she would have to revive in her home. She could zip back to Company Booty Pirates pretty easily after she reconstructed. From what he could tell, Company Booty Pirates might be engaged with a serious threat over on their end in the Pacific. Good for them. Hopefully, they could get some good island or water-based loot. The Protectorates were going to have to deal with an accursed underwater setting, eventually.

“Weapon nice. Very nice. Commander crafts good. Very good,” an [Everglade Gnoll] complimented.

Jay turned to the upright canine and smiled.

[Everglade Gnolls] were some of the friendliest monsters the Protectorates had come across so far. They had brownish and greenish fur pelts, dog-like faces, and dog-like legs they could stand on while being no taller than five feet. They also had furred human-like hands for manipulating tools. They were very craft-oriented and became instant hits with the Protectorates. The Protectorates found every tribe of [Everglade Gnolls] and took them for themselves.

“Thanks. I’m not as good as you and your mistress. But I try to do my best,” Jay said.

“But it’s nice. Very nice. And it has lots of powers. Lots, lots!” The [Everglade Gnoll] yipped.

“Hey, you. Don’t bother the Commander! Get back over here!” shouted one of the [Crafter-types] occupying the ship’s workshop.

When Jay looked up with two eyes, the Rank 3 [Blacksmith] bowed her head and formed a claw gesture over her heart in deference to him. She remained silent and respectful even though they had once been classmates in Central High. She had teased him a lot, too.

She grabbed her familiar by the arm and pulled him away, whispering into his ear. Unlike the [Blacksmith] who kept her [Crafter] derivative Class, the Everglades Gnoll had an affinity– Weapon Affinity. The two were a good match based on the big and well-made war hammer on the [Blacksmith’s] back.

Jay looked back at the spacious corner dedicated to him, Champions, or the workshop heads of this department. Jay had a lot of space for wood carving, blacksmithing, leatherwork, and other trades with the needed tools neatly placed with an eye for logical execution. The rest of the room was less spacious and had busy bodies moving back and forth for different purposes.

The room had flame resistant wood for the walls and surfaces, soft and blue magic lights floating near the ceiling, ventilation to remove all the particles built up in the air from dozens of craft projects running at once, and the space of a large warehouse factory. The room was part of many designs Macy and Mike had worked on while reconstructing these ships for multi-month voyages, carrying hundreds of people, storing lots of needed items, and having space to collect loads of loot to bring back home. The spatial magic ensured there should be plenty of space in other rooms, halls, the mess, the sleeping quarters, and the storage areas especially.

But Jay’s command ship had the most [Crafter-types], because just like Macy, they were pretty damn precious. There were way more [Fighter-types] in the world. Even people who didn’t seem like they could fight for their survival before YoAnna’s Apocalypse acquired [Fighter-type] Classes. If most of the world were [Fighter-types], perhaps 60%, then the remaining 40% were a mix of [Mage-types], [Medium-types], [Crafter-types], and lastly… [Freak-types].

Since [Crafter-types] were an integral part of rebuilding a new civilization that could withstand an apocalyptic world, they were viewed as the most precious resources to have among the new societies appearing around the globe. Jay wanted his [Crafter-types] close in case an enemy force tried to make a play for them. Thus, most of them stayed on the command ship, which flew in the middle of the three-ship formation.

All the other Classes were dispersed among the ships, ready to respond to any event, but most of them would want to be on the command ship. It had the nicest amenities because of Jay.

Jay taking a gander at his in-ship factory where [Crafter-types] worked on their trade merrily added more and more weight to Hailey’s words. Every Champion was important. But Macy was probably the most pivotal for the long run.

Not just for the Champions, but for the entire Protectorates. She could out-craft these people by herself because of her unique build and mind frame.

Jay’s Intellect wouldn’t let him forget how he’d doubted Macy could serve as a [Crafter] when they were making their selections on the profile stone last year. She had seemed like the last person you would trust to construct you a vessel that would fly through the skies and figure out ways to mitigate issues that cropped up while doing that. But Macy kept proving why the Allens were chosen.

The abilities for the ships to fly at close to sonic speeds impeded their abilities to fly undetected. So Macy reworked the vessels with Mike’s help. She gave them the option of moving casually at slower speeds and remaining nigh undetectable. Or to fly at sonic speeds when necessary. And these vessels were created from multiple qualities of materials. Some parts were made from Great Quality materials. Some parts were as low as Good Quality. But each vessel reached Superior Quality as a whole because of Macy’s ingenuity.

Jay’s gut wrenched at the idea of losing Macy.

Hailey’s words were like a curse. They ate at him overtime. He almost wanted to give in and do as Hailey wished. But Jay touched on his fourth-dimensional senses lightly and saw too many possibilities where Macy was needed in person. But each possibility could be a lie. Or a trick. The more he knew. The less certain he could be with knowledge from the fourth dimension.

“Not yet,” Jay murmured. “We can’t pull Macy off the battlefield just yet.”

The entire room hushed suddenly. Everyone paused their work and went deadly still. They would only do that for one person when she was stalking around.

Casey was here. She stood over nearly everyone with her new height. The amazonian blonde strode past different crafting stations as everyone looked up to her submissively or eagerly. She was one of the most beautiful and deadly representations of a [Fighter]. She was also kind enough to test out weapons for the [Crafter-types] and see if they could meet her high standards 

A few could, which had them throwing mini parties if they impressed Casey. Some of the [Crafter-types] looked eager to show the new combat gloves and greaves they had made for her. But the way she prowled through the factory said plenty about how unapproachable she was right now.

She wanted to kick Jay’s ass. The hunger in her piercing blue eyes said as much.

Jay smiled. He tapped his finger on his new tomahawk.

Casey nodded. Their next dance was going to be a bloody one.

Tomahawk Jay versus Catgirl Casey.