Chapter 263

The figure wielding the sword won. It drove the blade through the spear-wielder’s chest. The defeated champion flickered, dissolving into motes of light that scattered across the blanket.

“That’s some cool magic,” Alexander said.

Both children froze. Their hands stopped glowing, and two pairs of wide eyes turned to him slowly.

There was a pause. Long enough for Alexander to consider that maybe his first words to the local population shouldn’t have been in a language they couldn’t understand, spoken by a man who’d apparently been unconscious long enough for kids to feel comfortable using his chest as a battlefield.

They both screamed in perfect unison. Then they scrambled to their feet, tripping over each other, and rushed out through the doorway in a tangle of limbs and high-pitched babbling.

Alexander swept his senses out.

Nothing happened.

He frowned, and tried again. The instinctive flex of power that sent Electrokinesis and Metallokinesis pulsing outward in invisible waves did absolutely nothing. His fingers clenched.

Two children had just run screaming from the hut and his powers weren’t responding. It was possibly the worst time for that to happen. An entire squad armed with swords and spears were probably about to burst in.

Booming laughter outside drew his attention. It was joined by others, men and women, then children. There were no war cries. Or shouts of anger. No footsteps approached the hut.

That was a good sign. Probably.

He let his intent wash across the bond, instructing Droney to warn him if anyone approached.

Droney beeped.

Alexander closed his eyes. The bond remained in place, which meant Animachina was working. More than that. It felt stronger than ever. And…

He frowned.

There was another, extremely faint pulse that seemed to point nowhere. But he could feel a steady trickle feeding back toward him. It didn’t feel like anything he’d sensed from Droney, but it was definitely not coming from the little drone standing guard outside the hut.

In fact, Droney felt almost amused at his confusion.

There was only one other machine he’d ensouled.

Sleipnir.

The ship had awakened.

It would have to wait until he wasn’t trapped in another reality, surrounded by straw-wielding wizards, and powerless to defend himself except for one last valiant protector.

Alexander reached down into his soul. For so long he’d not understood why Technopathy came to him without struggle, while Electrokinesis and Metallokinesis hid, unknown and unused, until desperation forced them to claw free. The difference was Animachina. Though the System had refused to catalogue it, the power itself was almost intertwined with Technopathy.

Technopathy granted mastery over machines. But Animachina made them come alive. His original power, working flawlessly with the primary power of his counterpart.

Apparently gifted, not stolen. He didn’t know if that made a difference, or even if the strange System message could be trusted, but reflection on that would also have to wait.

Something was very wrong. His powers were missing. Instead of five distinct powers, he felt only a single source inside his soul.

Alexander could feel his heart rate climbing. He took another breath, through his nose.

Droney’s worry washed across the bond.

“It’s fine. There’s a rational explanation for this.”

System fuckery. That had to be it.

Alexander turned his attention to his notifications. There were a lot. He flicked past, trying to locate the last one he’d read. The weird one.

It was gone. His notification history showed nothing where it should have been.

He moved on.

—

Technopathy is ready to Ascend.

—

That one had arrived somewhere between activating the Skipper and being hit by a meteor named Flashpoint.

—

Electrokinesis is ready to Ascend.

—

When he’d felt the spark of inspiration and conjured lightning from the air to strike Flashpoint.

—

Metallokinesis is ready to Ascend.

—

The ship. He was no saint. Dozens had died, and he’d do it again, but he’d tried. It had cost him, though hundreds of survivors had made it worth the price.

—

Cultivator’s Core is ready to Ascend.

—

Near the end, when he’d been forced to squeeze every single drop of power out of his dwindling reserves, recycling and fighting for every edge, while flashing the tiniest bursts of lightning from his fists.

—

Your Strength is ready to Ascend.

Your Dexterity is ready to Ascend.

Your Agility is ready to Ascend.

—

Alexander frowned. They’d been getting close, but he suspected Pinnacle’s influence had contributed alongside beating Flashpoint to death.

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He pulled up the next notification and froze.

—

Claimed Divinity: The Eternal Flame

Converted Divinity: The Eternal Flame → Fragment of Divinity: Eternal Spark

Cultivator’s Core has adapted to Eternal Spark.

—

Fragment: Eternal Spark

Description: You have slain the Eternal Flame and claimed a Fragment of Divinity. A spark of power always burns in the deepest dark.

—

Alexander let his breath out slowly. Flashpoint. The Eternal Flame. He’d been right after all. As much as he’d always considered it a possibility, it wasn’t until they’d started unraveling the meaning behind the golden threads that he’d grown almost certain.

But the doubt had remained. Not that it mattered. Flashpoint had died for personal satisfaction as much as to protect the world from a flaming egomaniac.

He allowed himself three heartbeats of satisfaction, then flicked to the next notification.

—

Continue the Dream III → Continue the Dream IV

Ascensions complete.

—

Alexander blinked. That explained absolutely nothing. He tried to flick to the next one, only to find there were no more. He flicked back. Nothing new. Forward. ‘Ascensions complete.’

His heart rate climbed again. He ignored it. This time it had nothing to do with his missing powers. He was going to find the fucking System one day, and when he did he was going to enjoy dismantling it.

With a crowbar.

There was also the matter of consent. He hadn’t agreed to any of the ascensions this time. Somehow the white System window had triggered the process entirely without his say so.

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose. A crowbar and a friendly police officer, maybe.

He pulled up his status.

—

[STATUS]

Alexander Rooke

| Alias: Machine God

| Guild: Grimnir (Leader)

| Alliances: The Royals (Defensive, Formal) | Throne of Scales (Defensive, Formal)

| Designation: Superhero

| Bounty: 7,930,000 credits → 12,100,000

| Rankings: Universe_1: 21 → 15, Unified: 282 → 140

| Evaluation: Tier 2 (51% → 60%) — Class A+

ASCENSION POTENTIAL INDEX (API)

Physical Attributes

| Strength ✧ 101

| Endurance ✧ 176 → 189

| Constitution ✧ 158 → 173

| Dexterity ✧ 101

| Agility ✧ 101

Cognitive Attributes

| Intelligence ✧ 192 → 196

| Processing Speed ✧ 169 → 180

| Perception ✧ 170 → 176

| Focus ✧ 176 → 188

| Willpower (Ambition) ✧ 200 (+22)

Divine Fragments

| Sovereign Blood | Eternal Spark

Power Manifestation

Machine God | Class S+, Tier 2

| Mind of the Machine ✧ 33%

| Spark of the Machine ✧ 19%

| Body of the Machine ✧ 23%

| Soul of the Machine ✧ 96%

| Heart of the Machine ✧ 1%

Techniques

| Blackout | Ensoulment | Soul Circuit

Skills

| Hyperawareness | Multithreading

Achievements

| Origin 0 Soul | Continue the Dream IV | Divine Slayer

—

Alexander’s mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?”

His powers had all been merged and their names changed.

Soul of the Machine jumped out immediately. Animachina’s mastery had almost reached the peak at 96%.

His only real power, because the others had apparently been borrowed.

Though maybe Cultivator’s Core counted, because he’d earned that legitimately. Sort of. At 1%, it stood out compared to Technopathy, Electrokinesis, and Metallokinesis, which had all carried over considerable progress even after ascending to Tier 2.

His shoulders loosened as he reviewed his status again. His powers weren’t gone. They’d just been thrown into a blender. Because that’s what the pain had felt like before he passed out. Animachina still felt normal. The others had been shifted, metaphysically speaking. That’s why they hadn’t responded.

It was like reaching into the back of the pantry in search of the snacks he’d hidden from Annie, only to find empty air.

Alexander froze. His breaths came rapidly.

Something was still very wrong.

He reread it again. It couldn’t be, but the words didn’t change. Everything else was fine. The weird superpower names. Even the nonconsensual ascensions, if he were being honest.

None of it was a problem anymore.

Because the System had designated him as a superhero!

Alexander opened his mouth and yelled at the straw ceiling.

Outside, the laughter stopped. The conversation cut off mid-sentence. Even the children went quiet.

A bird called somewhere in the distance.

Then, tentatively, a voice murmured something. Another answered. The conversation resumed, quieter than before.

Droney beeped. The bond carried a distinct impression of exasperation.

Alexander sat up. “Don’t judge me. I earned that title many times over. And just because I saved a bunch of stupid wizards who don’t even know how to abandon ship doesn’t make me a hero. It doesn’t count!”

Droney beeped again. Amusement.

Alexander sighed. Annie would never let him live it down. He rubbed his face, then glanced down at himself. His shirt and jacket were gone, though his pants remained.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

His chest was a patchwork of purple and brown, with almost imperceptible flecks of blue-black metal where nanites had bonded with flesh to heal the worst of the burns.

He swung his legs from the bed, and stood. There was no unsteadiness. A quick inventory revealed some pain along the ribs, and minor sensitivity across the chest that matched the bruising.

Nothing serious.

Alexander reached for the ring, wanting to pull a fresh set of clothes out. Nothing happened. Electrokinesis didn’t respond. Another act of power that had become so second-nature that he’d stopped thinking about it.

Right.

One problem at a time.

Alexander sat back down on the bed, and closed his eyes. His Will reached back down into his soul where five had become one. Animachina responded without effort, because the power itself had not changed.

If his soul was an amalgamation of original and other, then perhaps the composite result had been welded together, leaving parts that were his and parts that were reinforcement. Necessary to contain the powers. It might even explain why he’d struggled to feel the other powers, while Animachina had quietly worked in the background, unrecognized, but there.

Electrokinesis and Metallokinesis had required near-death experiences to rise to the surface.

Perhaps even Technopathy had only come so easily because he almost went feet first into a furnace when he arrived in this world.

Maybe that was the reason behind the blender of pain.

Alexander’s Will wrapped around the source slowly. There was no resistance, but he pushed with care anyway.

Now would be a terrible time to break his soul.

Willpower met superpower.

Lightning pulsed gently behind his eyelids. His tongue tingled. Then current began to flow throughout his body, enhancing his senses. Biological signatures snapped into clarity all around him. Dozens. Then hundreds, spread out in every direction.

His hut was somewhere near the middle of whatever village he’d woken up in. Most were Tier 1s, though the awareness of a single Tier 2 turned toward him as his powered senses passed over them.

Then his cybernetic arm resolved fully in his awareness. Every grain of metal. Every bonded nanite. Droney’s form came next, hovering above the hut where it had a three-hundred and sixty degree view of the surroundings.

Alexander opened his eyes.

Everything was the same. And yet everything had changed.

He could feel it.

Alexander held out his right hand. Electricity gathered effortlessly into a ball of lightning that hung in the air above his palm. Perfectly contained. He held out his other hand, and the ball became a bolt, arcing across to the other hand where it reformed into a perfect, crackling sphere.

This is what he’d imagined Electrokinesis should be, but had never been able to achieve unaided.

Lightning wreathed his hands, crawled slowly up his arms, then engulfed his shoulders and torso.

He turned his hands over, staring at the dancing, crackling currents.

Alexander took a deep breath.

Then he frowned and sniffed the air. He smelled smoke.

Alexander glanced over his shoulders. His eyes widened.

The bed was on fire.