Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (22/?) WiP 1 (Patreon)

Hey everyone! Here's the Work in Progress for Chapter 22 I hope you guys enjoy! :D

My eyes remained transfixed on what was left of the watery goop that was once the null, as it continued to seep deeper and deeper into the porous cracks within the Earth.

Out of sight.

But not out of mind.

“EVI, replay combat footage log 1, isolate instance: last weapons discharge to target neutralization. Maximum frame rate, footage playback speed point one.”

I kept replaying the scene. Trying to determine if I’d done it right. Trying to see if the thing was actually dead. Rewinding and analyzing those tentative few seconds over and over and over again.

Those last few milliseconds just as the bullet hit was as remarkably clear as it was frustratingly inconclusive.The bullet had struck the core, it had made impact, but because of the digital artifacting due to the dust, debris, and latent mana in the air, it wasn’t clear where the core fragments went.

Everything within me refused to believe the battle was over. Every fiber of every muscle within my body remained as tensed as they were when I’d pulled the trigger.

Why’d it have to be an amorphous, magic-derived, monster? Why couldn’t it be an elf, a petting-zoo-person, or some normal fucking creature.

If it had been anything but the former, I could’ve at least had some proof that the whole affair was over, as grisly as it might’ve been.

With the way things went down, I couldn’t bring myself to believe the null was actually dead.

It was literally right there one moment, and then gone the next.

All of this just didn’t feel real.

Everything just felt so detached and disconnected.

As it stood, I was stuck in this gray in-between.

I was unable to move forward, my thoughts and anxieties fixated on registering a positive ID on my first kill, whilst both time and circumstances demanded that I just pressed on.

I knew, there was no other option on the table but to keep pressing the offensive.

It was just really fucking hard to do.

“Charlie Mike.” I spoke under a hushed strained breath within the confines of my helmet, addressing no one but myself.

There was another elephant in the room that needed to be addressed now. Another unexpected development that necessitated that the soldier stepped back, so that the diplomat could once more come to the forefront.

All of this was difficult enough to manage on its own, but when you added the crunch of bones and dulcet screams still ringing in my ears, it just became that much more challenging.

But a challenge was exactly what I signed up for right?

“This your first taste of combat I reckon?” The groundskeeper’s voice suddenly broke through my mind’s haze, quickly following up his previous question with something completely unexpected. His tone had shifted drastically from that questioning inquisitiveness to a warmer, more compassionate voice.

That followup question stumped me, especially given my prior interactions with the faculty and staff up to this point.

“I don’t get how that’s-”

“I can smell the unease from the color of your voice.” The giant interjected before I could fully get my thoughts out. His choice of descriptors was confusing, but I got the gist of it anyway. “I’m not a mindreader, just so we’re clear. I’m not going to act like I can make sense of the messy affair you’re clearly so embroiled in. But this isn’t my first adventure either. I can tell that this is the first time you’ve bloodied your sword.” He paused, before gesturing towards my holstered sidearm. “Or, well, whatever comparable saying goes for that artifice.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny-”

The giant started to shift his weight forwards, which caused me to pause right in the middle of my hastily drawn up response, just long enough for him to continue making his point; disregarding my words altogether. “Don’t think you can worm your way out of this one, young knight. I’m a stubborn old man, a giant to boot. And despite your strength and resolve I doubt even you can move mountains as heavy as my stubbornness. Many have tried, only a select few have succeeded.” The man made a point to crouch down, so that he could meet me at eye-level. “It would be shameful of me to treat a knight following her first battle, with the inquisitorial malice of a Judge-Executor. As much as these old bones are rattling to know more of the plots and schemes you and the apprentice are most certainly wrapped up in, I would be remiss in my honor and old oaths to place even more unnecessary burdens upon your shoulders.” There was an undeniable authenticity to that voice, one that was wrapped up in the wrinkled features of a venerable giant. “I do not claim to be anyone but a humble groundskeeper, young one. My age speaks naught of my titles. I am not your superior, your better, your tutor, or any other title gilded in gold and ivory. With all of that being said, you may be wondering to yourself, why even converse with an old man with nothing to his name. And to answer that, I say, nothing. You are under no obligation to answer my questions, or to even converse with me for that matter.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly to himself, then gestured towards Thacea and Thalmin. “Those two would know, Nexus etiquette and whatnot.”

He would’ve rattled on, if it wasn’t for my sudden interruption.

“You’re right, I don’t have an obligation to talk to you.” I stated plain and simple.

This clearly sent a message to the giant, his face shifting to one of solemn acceptance. A look that was, quite worryingly, something that seemed to come naturally to him.

“But let’s play ball anyways.” I quickly added, giving him a little dose of that tonal whiplash that had just slapped me across the face not a few moments earlier.

His face said it all, a look of shock, confusion, and preemptive disbelief dominating most of his worn features. “I beg your pardon-?”

“Just as you’re setting expectations and ground rules, so am I. I understand that the Nexus works in ways that it sees fit. However, as you can tell by my newrealmer proclivities, I’m decidedly not yet accustomed to such ways.” I spoke with a sly wink. “So with that out of the way, let’s look past the… what did you call it? Titles gilded in gold and ivory?” I parroted back, with a face of confidence underneath my helmet.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, didn't I? Aye.” The giant replied with a renewed vigor in his features.

There was something different about this guy. Something that was far removed from the bickering, posturing, and politicking of the faculty. And whilst I wasn’t willing to fully entrust a complete unknown factor just yet, I was willing to try to bridge the gap, to at least gain some sort of a foothold in the form of connections within the otherwise unassailable institution that was the Academy. Even if it was ‘just’ a groundskeeper. Grassroots diplomacy, and winning over hearts and minds, was something that was also covered in my training after all.

“So, let’s talk. Starting from the top.” I outstretched my right hand, which I just realized had been practically glued to my sidearm throughout this entire conversation. “I’m Cadet Emma Booker, United Nations Armed Forces.” I kept it brief, though part of me did want to try flexing the whole Patron of the Library title I now apparently held.