Seth's room was quiet, still, but smelled of ozone and heated metal. Flashed with arcs and glowed intermittent. Repeated attempts at scrying through the Ark piece under his hands left little room for a cool atmosphere. He wanted to get a better idea of what this metal fully was, how he could work with it, use it. And this time he was trying to do it without the Garkah’s help. A mutual agreement at least, he wanted to learn for himself instead of having everything told to him. To see better if this new level of power was more than just raw.
His eyes closed, focus drawing deep into the metal’s structure, like a tendril squirming through a maze with less ick. The power he received from the abyss really had given him considerably more control. Over not just the physical force of electricity, but the electrons that caused it. Or he at least could see better what it was that he’d been manipulating. These electron threads, the key threads that glued the Ark together, that gave him this power. He understood that little about them, what only a cursory glance and a bit of extrapolation could show.
And what countless lectures had ingrained into his head about basic physics.
Normal electrons repel each other, things with negative charge don’t like other things with negative charge. If a free electron were to pass from one atom to another, either that electron would continue on or one of the atom’s original electrons would be repelled away, continuing a cycle of atomic shuffling and movement. Currents in an infinitesimal sea of particles. That’s what electricity was on a basic level, but the Garkah found a way to break that cycle. Or were basically that break made manifest.
The negative charges in these threads attracted, or were countered somehow, causing electrons to group up instead of spread out. Seth thought back and guessed they resonated a weird way, similar to the key thread, and this caused the altering of these electrons. He just couldn’t figure out how. Whatever caused it, Garkah used them to great effect, spinning and weaving these threads of altered electrons, fusing them together and creating one of the thinnest bindings ever imagined.
But it does have issues, namely the fact that these altered electrons will disrupt other normal electrons just minding their own business keeping nuclei balanced. If the threads got too energetic, their resonance would spread to other atoms, specifically all the electrons surrounding them. This would cause the atomic structures of anything situated too close to them to break down and disintegrate. The outer layers of the atom, and one of its main means of holding together as molecules, taken away. Though Seth barely understood what that really meant beyond disintegration. But apparently the Garkah found a way to live with this issue, and work around it.
Feeling out the metal in his hand, it was unlike anything here on Earth. Save for maybe the alloy he and the Garkah made for the suit. Though Seth was very sure he couldn’t replicate it. But what was really distinct was that it looked like it was formed by hand. Or… claw anyway. All the way to its molecular structure. It had all the hallmarks of manufactured construction and was immensely stable. When it had power to suckle on.
That was how they managed it, the metal itself was positively ionized, lacked just enough of the electrons it needed. So, when the threads were run through, it snatched up the leading edge and retained them with its new stability. The resonance not strong enough to pull its lost electrons free.
The actual macro scale structure of the piece in his hands worked with this new rigidity. A twofold system, a series of ever thinning sheets of the metal that terminated in the sharp jagged edges Seth was making sure not to cut himself on, and a bundle like core that ran braided metal lines through to the sheets. Each piece that the Ark had split into was like an individual relay, substations for some comparatively beefy electron cordage that ran through it. These cords of electrons would slot in those braided lines, acting like main thoroughfares for the rest of the threads that spread smaller and deeper into the structure. But also drawing the lines taut and pulling the sheets up like atomic shutters. Once these shutters pulled together with their other neighboring pieces, they created the whole of the Ark.
But the small vacuum spaces between the now raised sheets also served a purpose. The metal was highly conductive, and the vacuum meant there was nothing for any free electrons to get attracted to, so the gaps kept a series of inlaid circuits from shorting due to their extreme proximity. These circuits in turn created a massive supercomputer that Seth sure as shit couldn’t understand, but he knew it allowed for the Garkah to become what they are now and get here in the end.
But looking more generally he found something else, the core of this piece was melted, the braided lines worn thin and the circuit hubs melted down near to slag. Damage from Threat’s entrance, from bearing all the energy he carried with him. Old scars that will forever haunt, and proof that there was power that they were not prepared for. But, in the end, it at least meant Seth could theoretically form the metal with enough power focused on it. He just had to work out the structure he was going to actually use the metal for.
‘*sigh*… And now I’m regretting not asking for help.’
Seth stood up from his desk and stretched off the few hours of study he just pulled free from. Thinking over the suit was a nice change of pace. Plus the copper connectors and parts of the gel layer were melted beyond repair, so he had to replace all that anyway. He’d spent the better part of last night clearing out the inside, scraping copper rivulets, pulling out what gel was left, and finally stripping the now melted-in-half view screen. All so it could be ready for Ark metal to go under it.
The metal was actually fairly malleable as it was, drained and empty. Its conductive properties just similar enough to the alloy to work in the same fashion as before, just with quite a bit more effort due to its density and tendency to lock up if given too much power. So, with some heating, the right kind of pressure, and a steady flow of electricity, it was easy to cleave pieces off. To render it like really hard clay.
But Seth was still stuck theorizing a useful structure to form it into. Just lining the inside with the stuff would do little other than add extra capacitance, weight, and armor. It wouldn’t be utilized fully. Recreating the braided sheaths that the Ark had presented some success, but it was stiff and had to be loosened like hydraulics. So too much back and forth effort. But then he wondered about his own electron threads, and how they weren’t eating him alive on a daily basis.
Seth took a step back and sat on the floor, focused and felt around for the threads under his skin. The lines coating his muscles. Weaving through him and highlighting him for only him to see.
Seeing it was too easy, but it didn’t tell him enough. So he waited, listened. All the other threads had a resonance, and he’d felt something when he woke up from shunting the abyss into himself. But all he could hear was… humming?
They were humming, the resonance on them was… audible. And it was different from the key thread. A familiar rhythm, but slower, less frequent. Seth pressed deeper, because these weren’t just single line threads either. These were cords as well, twisted and braided cords of altered electrons that sang in unison. But didn’t propagate their resonance. They just hummed a slow easing tune that felt… familiar. For no real reason he could parse.
There had to be more, but he was reaching a limit. Still he needed to see. He held a breath and shut the world out, the buzz of the lights and terminal cutting out as he shut them off. The cables in the walls redirected to silence even them. So he could look just that little bit deeper.
And see for himself what he was made of.
He almost couldn’t even see in spite of everything, but gradually… There were frays in the cord. Like threads were breaking off, spread out and connect to… To everything. They wrapped around every structure, every organ, every cell, every…
Every single atom.
Seth pulled his focus back, let himself breathe as he looked at more of the whole picture. The bright lines of the cords that ran through his nerves nearly covered up the extent, but he could tell that the threads covered everything that made up his body, some feeding normal metabolic systems with spare power, others forming webs under and over things that needed to be protected. Or healed back.
He took a breath and dove back in, closed tight and drew a line all the way to its very end. It was wrapping around a cell, running along with it through a vain like a tram on a powered rail. Till it started whipping about. Shriveling. Dying. Suddenly what was left disintegrated under the thread, base elemental debris spreading out, but then… reforming? A framework run through every electron in that cell pulling tight over the base pieces, forcing it back together like it was freshly born. The thread pulling back and letting the cell free, all wrapped in electron thread and tumbling through its course. Like it never had an expiration date. This really was what the laceroids were made from, an atomic framework of coopted electrons, a lattice that healed just as much as it empowered. The electron sea tamed and made bodily. Singing. Why the hell did…
‘Why did I never look at myself like this before!?’
“Because you lack the vanity of a proper Garkah.”
Threat broke the self-imposed silence with smarmy intent.
“Welcome to the world of our fucked up biology. Next stop, self-mutilation and peer pressured alteration.”
‘…I can change myself with this?’
“Oh crap. Don’t get any funny ideas! One slip up and you could kill yourself painfully and slowly. I only got a few lessons about it in my life, but they stuck. There’s a reason so few of us are in here. Because we were small in number from the get go.”
Seth felt Threat’s bias here, though it didn’t seem unwarranted. Plucking at a few of his memories, it seemed the Garkah liked to alter themselves based on trends…
‘Heh, who needs designer jeans when you can design yourself?’
“It’s a bad road to go down. They used it as a status symbol, if you’re powerful or skilled enough to make yourself extravagant of body, you’re pretty damn high on the social ladder as well. Thankfully that’s died down since everyone’s just made of energy now and there’s no consequences. Half the damn symbol was the risk.”
“Oh but if you had seen it with your own eyes.”
Speaker finally piped in, a longing reminiscence in his voice that Seth had almost never heard before.
“I used to spackle shimmering gold and silver on my scales, like a living primordial vain. Oh, and the pearlescent hues of the noble ladies. It was truly magnifi…!”
Speaker stopped. As a feeling of jealousy and disappoint shadowed him. Collective emotions don’t mean they all thought the same. Threat smirking in the looming refusal to relapse.
“And there’s the vanity I remember.”
Speaker turned away, his embarrassment was almost adorable.
Seth drew back his focus, he wanted the complete picture of what he had again. Almost like he was looking in a mirror, though from much closer and more abstractly. The brightest spot of the cordage twined within him was in his brain. Like it was a central hub. The cords ran out from sections of his brain, sections Seth was kind of sure weren’t normal for humans. One tacked on to the part that handled memory, if he’d remembered what he was taught in school at all. Another tied to areas governing emotion, and another was just sat right in the center between hemispheres.
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‘I guessing those are some ‘additions’ that allow me to control all this power?’
“*cough* Y-Yes.”
Speaker cleared his embarrassment and accepted Seth’s relinquishing of his self-learning.
“Those are transfer and transmission nodules that allow your brain to influence the threading. How else would you control all this? How else would your body utilize it so automatically? They tie in and help facilitate thought and intent in terms of your specific resonance. That humming you heard. Though you should know they are more… vestigial… in ways that are harder to explain. Though for you, the key part is that central structure. It is where the thread was, and still is, weaved and disseminated out from. It is also coincidentally, where we are.”
Seth shook the vertigo that resulted as his attention and focus seemed to split from each other at that admission. Quickly realigning back together like he was just cross eyed for a second. He focused back and saw surrounding sections of his brain light up with nerve activity, following it in as that activity fed straight into the central…? Center…?
‘I’m just going to call it the weaver.’
He broke off as he reach its depth, a tinge of fear at what recursive focusing could cause staying his abstract hand. The circular and tiny weaver was held aloft by nearby nerve synapses that grew out to form it, taking in the freed electrons that errant nerve signals passed along and adding them to the end of the chain that coiled through it. It then imparted that humming resonance on to them with what looks like…
‘Ark metal?’
“Yes, it is a considerable rare but a natural occurrence on our world, and is what gave us this power in the first place. We had to synthesize a great deal of it for the Ark. Its natural structure is rather… intricate. And maddeningly hard to find.”
Rings of Ark metal, small enough to pull electrons through, were formed in the weaver like ribs on a cylinder. Precipitating from mineral uptake and quite a lot of time. Thirteen years of being this way seeming to have only formed a bare five and a third rings. As they were fed power, youngest rings vibrated strangely, yet familiarly. The electrons passed to them altering and forming together with that hum. The oldest rings in turn span, weaving the ensuing lines into cordage. So the older he got, the more power density he would no doubt have, which explained a little of his early struggles. Though it seemed like he was about at whatever upper limit there was.
Seth pulled back, took the breath he had been holding too long, and refocused elsewhere. His hand. An almost mundane focus pulled power into it, intent on seeing what he had only ever felt as just what he could do. His hand flared, the hum heightening as a bulged formed in the threading, electrons massed from the bulk spread throughout him and sent to where he needed them. In turn humming that same tune, his tune. And bearing his focus about like his senses extended to that mass of power he just pulled forth. It… was getting a little confusing. And a bit existential.
‘So my power is all about electron resonance then?’
“Yes. Though there is a depth of nuance to it. Each of us has a different resonance, a different song that is our being distilled. Though they are fairly similar to the untrained, there are layers like instruments to an orchestra. Memories and experiences changing it, filling it, being recorded upon it. Somewhat like your people’s concept of a soul. This power is you, and you are it. But the main difference that separates us is how strong and stable it can be. That is what dictated both hierarchy and noble standing among our old society. As well as whether we could change ourselves or maintain our abilities for as long as we could ever need. This is the path of our power. One that is trained and focused on to bring out its potential through learning and experience. To fill it slow and even. To know all that it contains so one may always know one’s self. But... in the end that is only one side.”
“The other… being mine.”
Threat felt worried, that deep guilt manifesting again.
“My body came with a resonance you already know, the one that’s too strong for its own good. My… kind… have a different path to filling our souls. And it is very much not by choice.”
Seth felt Threat’s memories again, flashes of lessons on Garkah like him.
“There’s a subset of us that are born different, have more Ark metal in our systems than normal, which in turn causes us to have thicker threading and more connection points to them. Having more than claw’s worth of rings is the tell, especially when you are young. But it can be hard to catch sometimes. But it’s not all. That part that’s tied into the ‘emotional centers’ of your brain, that’s from me. It’s what causes your resonance to be influenced by emotions more prominently. Why you feel a surge of power when you feel angry… or sad. The greater the emotion, the more downstream power gets put in. And the closer you get to something we call The Song that Siphons. You’ll start to pull in energy from everything around you. Gorging on power till you can’t take it anymore. If you’re in control enough, you can pick and choose. Dictate, direct, avoid. But lose yourself… and you’ll become a black hole. Another abyss. And then you’ll know what it’s like… to eat someone. To… to tear them apart. Body… and soul.”
Threat was shaking, reliving things he shouldn’t have to. A lifetime's worth of guilt weighing down words simply meant to light the way. But deep in them, Seth felt their source. Felt… Knew… things that he shouldn’t. Because they were someone else’s entirely. Like fragmented memories spaghettified across an event horizon. As they joined the mass that was…
“Don’t… don’t end up like I did. This world can’t handle it. I can’t handle it…. Handle being the cause of… of another-”
Seth stopped focusing and shot down his attention to him, practically hugging him with facsimile of a being he could muster up.
‘Hey! Don’t you start blaming yourself for everything all over again.”
The feeling of scales on this small simulated body felt too natural. Right down to the surprised quiver and oncoming looks from all in the control room that just were suddenly intruded on.
“We all share that burden, you know that more than any of us. But this is my choice, mine to take on now. Nothing will be your fault anymore. You understand?”
The control room, little more than a dark field of starlight condensed into surprised faces and overshared feelings, gathered around. Watched and accepted Seth as he pulled back to bear this to everyone he bore.
“You’ve all suffered enough. I can keep myself. I will keep myself. You just make sure you have proper introductions in order. Even if it takes decades, I will make sure these people accept you as you are. And as you’ll be again one day. More than just points of light in the head of some stupid kid.’
Seth let Threat go, let attention and focus both drop away. Let the power flow back through his room and the lights come back on. The table above him strewn with Ark metal chunks half-finished and half thought through. His suit cored and barren as it waited for him to come up with something. A mess, but his mess. A process, but his. He’d learned and work on his own. And probably done enough for today. There was still two and half weeks till graduation. He had time for a rest. And to clean up all this.
So for the remainder of the week he decided to take it easy. Only taking part in mandatory exercises and a few faked training slots so appearances were kept. He also didn’t want to risk surprising Kaz if he and his dad were worried about him. Going from managing to keep up to outpacing him flat out would have raised questions he wasn’t prepared to answer all over again. Better to just hold a status quo, and continue working with what he had. All this Ark metal wasn’t going to utilize itself.
And really, what else could he do. It was downright peaceful now. Hothead was thrown off, Para was at a distance, and the past was the past. All that mattered was the future, and that was probably a little too hopeful. Graduation may just be the start of a lot more issues, but Seth just couldn’t care about that. Because it was getting quiet. Nice and quiet.
The truck rolled to a stop a full meter over the line. The breaks unprepared for what was behind all its inertia. None spoke, words weren’t needed anymore. It was time for action. Servos whirred and slides chunked. Smiles gritted and muscle strained. Tension wasn’t a feeling, it was exuded. It was for all around them. All who were unlucky to be caught in their sight.
Horns blared behind as traffic flow demanded its authority over them. To get their overloaded box truck out of the way and moving on under the green light above them.
But it refused.
The gangway loosed as the rear door rolled up. The hood of the car demanding they follow the rules of the road dented as heavy sheet metal landed on it. Anger and impatience boiling, then flooding to fear. As the dent deepened right into the engine block. Militarized steel and titanium crushing that respect for authority. Millimeters of gunpowder and high explosives glaring down the one that dared to lord over. Gleaming carapaces, weapons brought to bear, and a shining glare buried in the dark making rue of their want to get to work on time. As the grenade launcher leveled too close to arm thunked to shatter this mourning apart like this arrogant motorist’s windshield.
It was time to take what had been promised.
Time to do a bit of early morning work.
Sudden Saturday training sessions were a thing of the past, so Seth had all the time in the world to goof off. The Hill was quiet, sleepy or damn near empty. Some flare up along the mountain forests decided what a good chunk of heroes were going to be doing for the weekend. Digging ditches, cutting trees, and telling fires that they no longer deserved to exist. Dry seasons just kept getting dryer apparently. And there was always too much ground to cover. It at least meant most of the arena time slots were unoccupied though. So at some point Seth was going to have to pick one. But that could wait, there was metal to mulch.
All the shavings and chunks that Seth had carved up and played with were gathered back up in front of him. There wasn’t enough Ark metal for anything substantial, but he had an idea that maybe he didn’t need all that much. Taking up a smoothed out slate he’d sheared off to practice with, he thought back to what the Garkah told him of their biology. And how just a little was enough for a hell of a lot.
Seth pinched at the metal like it was a paper stack, feeling the layers that formed the shutters. He focused a charge and heated between the sheets, broke connection and braids that still lingered. And pulled that upper layer free. As the sheet came off, he snapped it flat so it wouldn’t crumple and tear. Then, taking a finger, he circled the center of it. Tracing a fine arc through and cutting a hole. Then a bigger hole around that. Then he magnetized and took up the doughnut shaped cookie cut and bent it around, folding it in on itself to become a complete ring. It was definitely too big, his fingers weren’t the best manual tools for atomic construction, but it was a start.
‘So, got a nanometer sized claw I could borrow?’
“Certainly.”
Speaker and gaggle of artisans were already gathered up in Seth’s attention, already had close proximity to what they were looking to recreate. Though that was more than likely a bit of a megastructure comparatively. But who needed vast amounts of heavy metal when you just needed relays to string through. Turn his suit into a proper Garkah as well why not.
With a bit of finagling, and a shared body, they set to work manufacturing enough rings to fill the armor. His focus drawn and used like a tool, turning sheet after sheet of metal into piles of tiny hoops. Once there was enough for a plate, it was his turn to work.
Carful melting and pressing of microscopic metallic origami was a bit of a stretch, but he still had plenty of help. Each plate receiving a several handfuls of rows, so threads could be run through, be twisted around, and soaked in to the metal without endangering the whole structure. A little like the Ark, just with less physical sheathing. But still like a key thread all its own.
They had more than enough to reinforce his entire suit with these relays, and making a new pile only took a few seconds once the ideas were cemented. He even had an excess to still coat the inside and augment the original circuitry so it wouldn’t meltdown. Or at least would heat up away from his skin. The inside of the suit was now an unnerving matte black under a reapplied gel layer. The last few shavings replacing the ferrite with Ark metal as well.
‘Hopefully it passes as just terrestrial. Though it wouldn’t even make sense for it to be Ark metal anyway. It’s ‘unbreakable’ after all.’
“Please try to control that arrogance. We would very much prefer if you were not vivisected either.”
Seth still had one more thing to do, run and wrap electron threads through the rings. Putting them in place was just laying the ground work, like making underground pipes for cable. But the problem here was that he was going to need power and time to focus that. Running a new key thread through the broken Ark was only about three tenths his own doing, and this was good practice. Though it was also going to be extremely intensive.
He couldn’t commit to this kind of heavy work in his room, he’d be pulling a lot of power, and people would wonder why his room was bent inward and all the lights are busted. He didn’t have the same privacy as his garage back home. The arena was the obvious choice, but as is he was liable to be sharing it with one of his bored classmates. He’d have to be discerning, bide his time on this one. Though it did help that one of the Garkah was their premier weaver back on Tesh, so at least he had a tutor and something to do as he-
*bam bam bam*
Someone was banging against his door like it didn’t have a doorbell or was automatic. Though Seth did keep it magnetized shut, which he released before whoever it was broke the door down. So begrudgingly in leaned… Kabar?
“Para’s calling everyone to the arena, come on!”
He was off before Seth could wonder what this is about. Or why he didn’t just use the terminals. More banging followed, Kabar was going door to door. What the hell would require this kind of urgency but need to be kept off the record? From Para no less? It didn’t matter, he had to get going.
‘But I swear to god if this is some stupid shakedown.’
