‘So physical sensations don’t translate when I’m just a passenger,’ Rick thought. The young man—no, Rick’s test subject—was laying on the ground, groaning in pain and choking on blood from a punctured lung, not to mention the host of other broken bones in his body beyond the ribs. But Rick didn’t feel a thing, marking it a successful, though dangerous, test.Looking at the thread of belief stretching off into the distance, he saw no changes in it. After briefly considering a test involving what happens if he was a passenger in a body when it died, he discarded the idea as the test was simply too dangerous. With a thought, he willed his consciousness to begin the arduous journey back to his own body, leaving one last sentence behind for the boy.“You’ve worked hard. Rest now, and if you survive this, I’ll visit you again,” he said, pushing it into the teenager’s mind with a few hundred pulses of light. Whether the boy heard it or not, he didn’t really care.When he returned to his own
Rick cleared his throat, bringing the attention of the others in the meeting room to him. “It’s time we begin our comeback. A lot of our previous plans need to be scrapped, but some should still be doable with some modifications, thanks to the unexpected blessings descending on us. I’ve brought myself up to date on our situation over the past week, so we don’t need to go over that and can immediately get to work on plans for the future,” he said.“Can you tell us what your blessing is, shepherd? If we’re to come up with new plans or modify existing ones based on blessings, we need to know what yours is,” the strategist asked. While he was telling the truth about that, he was also just as curious as everyone else in the room as to what exactly Rick could do now.“My blessing enables me to enter people’s minds, monitor their thoughts,” Rick answered, then his eyes flashed purple as he continued speaking through the threads of belief that connected him to his high-level confidants. “And
(Ed note: The title reference in this one is pretty obscure, so I’ll give it to y’all. Backstories is obvious, and “Ellies” refers to the 1998 Spielberg flop, “Deep Impact”, where they referred to an incoming meteor that would wipe out all of humanity by the name Ellie, which was code for ELE, or Extinction-Level Event.)Low Earth Orbit, stealth shuttle ESV-228-01.Jason Todd and Catherine O’Shaugnessy were reclining in seats in the small stealth vessel receiving final briefing updates for their upcoming task. Their mission: hunt down cult cells to the best of their abilities.And their abilities were certainly no joke.They would be heading to the Puget Sound area of Washington State, where they would take the identity of a newlywed couple moving to Harstine Island, an unremarkable, unincorporated, and very much out of the way island in the sound. Timothy Roberts and his wife Siobhan would settle down in Hartstene Pointe, a gated community on Harstine Island.Siobhan Roberts would ta
Timothy heard the hatch to the cargo hold hiss open and almost fumbled the atomic printer he was still holding in his hand. He paled and gingerly set it down, then turned around and saw his “wife” coming into the hold behind him.“Holy fuck, you startled me!” he exclaimed.Catherine was taken aback for a moment, thinking, ‘Aren’t reapers supposed to be hardcore badasses? Psh, a little door scared such a big man.’ Then, a mischievous grin crossed her face and she got a truly wicked idea.“Honey, I have a headache,” she said, slumping down to sit on the floor next to him. She leaned over and rested her head in his lap and practically purred at him. “Rub me?” she asked, blinking innocently and conveniently ignoring the fact that she was still wearing nothing but a sports bra and compression booty shorts. Timothy awkwardly fidgeted in place and didn’t know where to put his hands. There were so very, very many options, and not many of them were good. He poked her forehead and growled, “Fo
Seatac International Airport, Seatac, Washington.Two people, a man and a woman, walked out of the office in a private hangar, loaded with luggage. They called for a cart and headed to the charter terminal.“Hi, welcome to Seattle Helicopter Charter, where would you like to fly today?”Siobhan gave the woman at the desk a brilliant smile. “We’re just headed home from our honeymoon,” she said, taking Timothy’s arm. “So we’re headed to Oly, got anything headed our way today?”“Certainly, Mrs...?” the receptionist said, her manicured fingers resting on the keyboard waiting for Siobhan to give their information.“Mr. and Mrs. Timothy Roberts,” Siobhan glanced at the receptionist’s name tag and continued, “Dana.” She smiled again and, though she was absolutely straight, Dana felt her heart skip a beat and her face heat up a little bit.Nyxian honeypots were irresistible to everyone, and the receptionist was no exception.“Certainly, Mrs. Roberts,” Dana said, then lightly coughed to bring h
The next day.Timothy and Siobhan got out of bed at three o’ clock in the morning, neither of them requiring much sleep thanks to their enhanced physiques and various implants. In order to maintain their covers, neither of them would be accessing the simulation unless an emergency came up. Augmented reality was also limited, preventing them from using it for things like virtual keyboards and screens. What remained was mostly akin to a HUD that would give them increased situational awareness without the possibility of any outward signs that they were using imperial technology.Even their old beat-up pickup truck was exactly what it seemed, just an old truck. Their only imperial technology, beyond the necessaries like their WESS and other layers of security systems, had been safely tucked away in various slicks and the growing underground facility that the atomic printer nanite colony was currently building and expanding. Their implants had informed them that the facility had reached in
Private simulation, Aron’s personal training field.Aron had been spending his time since the inaugural council meeting in his own personal simulation instance, handling his work and practicing his mana usage by fighting with his AIs. Instead of relying solely on Nova as his sparring partner, he had given the rest of the higher AIs the same mana knowledge he had. As a result, he was growing by leaps and bounds as he fought “people” who, due to the difference in their self-tailored code structure, approached fights in a very different manner compared to Nova. Their usage of his runes gave him many different inspirations on how to use his own.Currently, he was standing alone in the middle of an empty field, his eyes glowing gold as he attempted to track the flow of mana around him to catch anything out of the ordinary. He was obviously in the middle of a fight with someone.It wasn’t very long before the AI he was currently sparring with was revealed. No matter how vigilantly he was sc
Fifteen minutes after the miserable end of the spar.Aron had been revived after being given a once-over by Nova, who was worried about his state of mind whenever he experienced a death in the simulation, much less one as... devastating as his most recent. After all, she fully expected there to be some sequelae after experiencing death firsthand, something that had already long been an issue with the harsh ARES training. But while the issues were similar, the solutions were most definitely not. ARES troopers could have their memories deleted, or at least reduced in intensity to around the same level of impact that dying in a dream would have, while Aron’s mental defenses, not to mention the system riding in his consciousness, was absolutely impenetrable to any form of mental manipulation that came from outside the system. Even when Nova had spotted the issue during Aron’s first upgrade, she had been incapable of interfering until the system recognized what she was doing and relented