The Power of Ten Book Four: Dynamo

Beep, beep...

“Never seen anything like it, definitely not human...”

Beep, beep...

“The irradiated cells are actually consuming the radiation, her readings are actually going down, impossibly...”

Beep, beep...

“Still no idea on who she is? It’s like we don’t even have programs for this stuff!”

Beep, beep, beep...

“Sir, we’re getting increasing resistance to her medication. It’s having almost no effect on her now...”

Beep, beep, beep, beep...

“Call the government and let them know we’ve got some kind of a Powered child here, activated by a nuclear event. I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed.”

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep...

“Okay, vacate the room. There’s better than a seventy percent chance the girl will lose control of her powers on manifesting, and we don’t want anyone in here when that happens!”

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beepbeepbeepbeep...

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“HAAAAAAAA!”

Is someone screaming?!

Oh, that’s me...

Dreams. Wild and crazy dreams. Webs and astral space, looming shadows and eight gleaming eyes, strands of power woven between worlds, utter helplessness before a cosmic predator, burning skin, fires, flaming inside and hot, so-hot intense white-hot burning cooking pain-pain...

The air was full of light and crackling noises and ozone and things coming apart as I thrashed and tore at the webs everywhere, finally able to move, to fight back, to get free...

I hit the ground, scuttled backwards as fast as I could, and hit a wall. Something broke apart, crashed and fell over, exploded as I pushed it away, and I sat there, heaving for breath, hands up, seeing, seeing...

WTF am I seeing?

I shook my head at the soul-trembling presence in my memories that was trying to fade into darkness, and I wouldn’t let it. Webs on webs on webs, wrapping me up, binding me around, sinking down into my soul...

My soul...

Concentration was and would always be My Thing, shard of a soul or no. I tossed away the dancing images in my head and looked down, inside, into my Pactspace.

My head was spinning upside down and sideways. My Matrix was letting me know that I was attempting to draw power and that power Was Not There, Stop Doing That. I let it go, and my brain crashed down from a state of extreme disorientation, now just jolting around madly, snapping back and forth between unfamiliar images that definitely didn’t belong to me, and flicker-quick they were gone, like someone was channel-surfing and force-feeding the images into my head.

Stop pulling power!, my instincts howled at me, and I shut down everything, everything, everything...

The flickers in my head, the memories not my own, faltered and died as the power that had brought them to life vanished. I stared at nothing, looking inside of me, at the severed bunch of Karma that was me, and blanched.

There were the dim remnants of a Heavenpact, but it had never been independently powered up, so a reflection was all that it was. It was completely overwhelmed by the fact my soul was Webbed Up, with ephemeral strands that extended off into nowhere, a cocoon of wondrous skill and precision that had to be the alternate form of a Pact... or something, wound all about and tied right into me.

Pumping energy into me. If my instincts were right, a lot of energy. Much more than a basic unevolved Warlock Pact.

I became aware I was breathing deeply and raggedly, and soul-crushing fatigue was wearing me down. I was burning inside and yet felt like icy water... hey, that sensation I was clear about. I glanced sideways and saw the power of the two Druidic Rituals was indeed active. The Ceremony of the Frozen Soul and the Ritual of the Burning Heart were up and had been applied.

That had to mean... I was alive. Druidic magic did NOT work on the dead.

My thoughts felt incredibly disjointed, and my muscles were twitching with the aftershocks of tremendous effort following complete lethargic torpor, and then dealing with whatever energy had been running through me.

I cracked my eyes open.

The world was still trying to orient itself, currently overlaid with a fantastic image of webs connecting everything into a fluid diagram of Fate and power and circumstance, a diagram to which I seemed to have been joined to forcibly. The overlay was too strong right now, and I couldn’t separate the underlying framework from what it was supposed to represent.

I crunched my eyes back closed miserably. The power was running through me, even if I wasn’t using it. I had to tame it, channel it, and control it to something viable and useful, or this was going to keep happening.

It’s a Pact, right? Pacts are controlled by Masteries...

Taking a Pact automatically got you Warlock Blast/1, and +1 to Warlock Caster Level. If this thing had been plugging into my Karma, who knew what I could take?

I also didn’t know where I was. Did the rules of Power of Ten even apply here?

Warlock Caster Level/1! I flipped a mental lever, and something jerked sideways in my head, stirring up memories of Eldritch Theurgy, only in the wrong direction.

Whatever, the juice running through inside me seemed to stop dancing around a bit, and the uncentered world spinning around me seemed to slow down.

It is doing so because I am accepting the Pact, I realized, grimacing. I was pretty sure I hadn’t actually Sworn a Pact, as that kind of event was not something anyone could forget, but I was still Webbed up and tied into one, regardless. Forcing a Pact on someone, when countless people would promise anything for such a thing...

I had to wonder at the motivations of the Pact Giver, who and what it was, and-

Stop thinking and get this shit under control!, I almost slapped myself, except my hands were shaking too much.

Warlock Ward/1!

Something clicked inside me, and the dead heat in my bones, an ache of lethal significance, seemed to wash away, a cycle of awareness, clarity, and a loss of drugged sluggishness making me quiver with abruptly realized sensitivity and feeling.

I was drugged to the gills, I deduced. Why, I didn’t know, but the energy inside me had just washed it all away.

Poison resistance? Immunity? Hard to tell. Whatever, I now had a sense of touch, and the yo-yoing world that was spinning around so hard was now slowing as my sense of balance decided it was time to relax and hear what King Gravity’s interpretational guidelines and jurisdictional rules were in this sort of situation. He was a pretty strict teacher, so paying attention to His lessons were a Good Thing.

Warlock Whim/1! Since I had already claimed two Mastery Tiers, it was plain that this wasn’t the Power of Ten rules. Were there any limits on what I could claim in one day, save Karma?

I happened to know I was freaking made of Karma. Ten Levels at Nine of Karma. Although the Icefire Rituals took two of those straight off...

Something tingled over me, and the eager hum of the Pact in my bones stratified and calmed down some more. It was like it was urging me to tie myself harder to the Pact, and looking at the wrappings around, into, and out of my soul, they now looked more complete, harder, and stronger.

I am totally digging myself in deeper on this, aren’t I, I sighed. Just like whatever this Pact-Giver wants.

I so wanted to Assay myself right now. Really, I did. But that sensation of yawning emptiness where I should feel magic was pretty apparent, and even the glow of my Core was subdued. An Assay would let me know where I was at, and in what direction I could make choices to go. For now, I had not the slightest clue.

I didn’t even know what Class Levels I had. Warlocks were Masteries, not a Class...

My brow furrowed for a moment at that thought, distracting me from my hyperventilating and extremely buffed heartrate.

Powered Masteries were, however, limited by their Class Level in both height and breadth. Three per Class Level, a new Tier available by every other Class Level-up.

So, I should be able to tell how many Class Levels I had, and their maximum height, if I simply kept taking Masteries?

Sure, that was basic stuff! Just do it, do it, do it!