World Boss: Break the Narrative

I hadn’t meant to toss out a skill that time. That said, It was working pretty well for me. Anyone who wasn’t Rachel looked scared shitless. Apparently, lightly immolating one of their friends in front of them had put them off their game. Or maybe it was the face ripping.

It may have been the face ripping.

“Doug!” Angelica yelled.

“Hello,” I said, turning to her. What was she doing here? I had suspected she wasn’t going to attend the duel. Yeah, she never said she wouldn’t but… why did I think that?

She looked me up and down and frowned, “You have to stop. Someone is going to die.”

I nodded. This shit was getting crazy. Scifi guns and bomb staffs. That’s nuts. What next? Lightsabers? No, tricorders. I want tricorders. Wait! “Are you going to step in?”

Angelica paused, “I… can’t. I am not going to fight these people. I did kill them.”

“That’s okay, I got it.” I said.

Angelica said something but I didn’t hear it.

Something heavy shook the ground behind me. Why does everything appear behind me? I may have a situational awareness issue… or the phantom pain is making me dumber. The static in my mind was getting observably worse.

Turning I found the Sergeant in a goddamn mech suit. The fucking thing was huge. It was head and shoulders taller than me. It was also armed out the ass. It had missiles… or rockets. Either way that was uncalled for.. It was also carrying a massive gun. The spinny one. You know. A brrrrt gun.

The mech was basically a coffin with arms and legs. You would think that would make it awkward, but it moved with a somewhat ponderous grace. It could balance easily. I could see the Sergeant’s hairy face glaring at me behind a thick piece of glass.

The crowd was backing up a hell of a lot faster than the last time. Apparently the close seats were not cool anymore.

Sunit was looking at me.

“Did he already challenge me?” I asked.

Sunit nodded.

Analyze check… Partially Successful

Name:

Sargent Majors

Race:

Human

(Chimera: Bigfoot/manticore/lizardman)

Class:

Chimera Corp NCO

Level:

27

HP:

130

Power:

26

Mobility:

23

Body:

23

Mind:

10

Face:

10

Magic:

3

Trait:

On The Bounce

You may not want to live forever, but you do want to spend as many days as possible in a mech suit. You gain an addition level of scale when piloting a mech suit.

Unnatural Trait: Chimera (Rare)

This is level independent. This trait increases it’s bearer’s Scale to Rare. It will also cause the bearer to show physical attributes similar to those of the Mobs used. Mild instability. That is probably nothing to worry about. Just keep calm.

Perks:

You were not able to discern perks

Disposition:

You were not able to discern disposition

“You are a Sergeant named Sargent Majors? …Fuck it, Let’s go,” I said.

The Sergeant didn’t waste any time. He unloaded a hail of bullets… on the spot I had been. Thank you Dodge Skill. Keep this up and you will be right up there with health regen on my favorite things.

I shook my head trying to clear it.

I couldn’t screw around anymore. Triggering a layer of Ablative Shell, I ducked in and clocked the mech.

Clang!

Attack from Sargent Majors… Dodged.

Counter-attack successful!

Dampen Check Successful! Sargent Majors take 0 damage.

That did fuck all. I blocked the kick and counter-attacked to no effect. I then Dodged another burst of gunfire and tried punting the big suit of armor. Trouble was the impacts rang like a bell but didn’t do jack. I punched the thing's arm, hoping the joints were weaker, but even that didn’t register.

I dodged a vicious backhand from the mech. Counter attacks hadn’t worked so far but I was willing to see it through to the end. My knuckles ached, and my lungs burned. I was wailing on the Sergeant, but he absorbed the damage like it was nothing. This shit was getting frustrating. Is this what it was like to fight me?

Nope. I never missile struck anyone a day in my life. I am classy that way. I had to mix in the Sprint skill alongside Dodge, and Jump, but I evaded the majority of the damage. Oh good, layer two of Ablative Shell. Time to get more aggressive.

The mech held a hand for me to stop. I paused. Some may say I skidded to a stop and almost ate shit on the ice. Those people are unkind… but accurate.

“Do you know what your problem is?” the good Sergeant asked.

“I am sure you’ll tell me,” I said, stalling for time. That third layer of the shell would make me feel safe. I was ruminating on another idea.

Destruction check… Failed

Wolverine Class Mech Suit is not under your control.

Darn.

“You have really good reflexes,” the Sergeant explained.

“I don’t understand,” I blinked. Did I miss part of what he said? The white noise may have snuck up on me.

“Let me show you,” The iron fist of the mech's left hand lashed out at me.

I dodge the strike… right into a burst of the gun. Each shot could only do 1d4 damage. That said thirty of them punched right through a layer of my ablative shell. When I ducked out of the way of that hail of death, I found myself face to payload with a rocket.

The explosion sent me flying. I hit the ground hard, and I landed badly. Then I rolled at least twice and ended up face down on the ice. Is this what I had been doing to people? While I never missilled anyone, I have left a very non-zero amount of folk battered on the ice.

“You surrender?” the Sergeant asked.

I climbed to my feet.“Do you have any interest in talking this out?”

“No. Traitor has got to die,” he said. After a beat he added, “I don’t want to hurt you… but I will if you make me. I will send you to meet whichever maker you believe in.”

That kinda pissed me off, “You will murder me because I won’t let you murder someone else?”

“This is war,” the Sergeant explained, with no real rancor in his voice.

“It wasn’t here until you brought it.” I accused.

He shrugged, and raised the gun, “Give up now.”

I was wracking my brain to find a way to turn the table. I knew what I needed to do. Not die. The gun needed to go.

I dodge the burst of fire. Rather than counter-attack the mech suit directly I jammed my hand into the rotating barrels of the gun. This wrenched my wrist something fierce. I then triggered another layer of Ablative shell. Now my hand went from wedged between two barrels to completely stuck.

Metal groaned, something mechanical screamed, and I roared as we fought for control of the gun. A mechanism failed and fragments of belts and a few gears went flying. I smiled with satisfaction just before my feet left the ground. Sergeant Sargent Majors with his big damn mech hefted me, and then flung me like a shot put. I sailed through the air before the rockets honed in on me.

Structural armor is awesome… when I have it. The Sergeants structural armor was unfair and stupid. Mine was fair and balanced. Ignore the fact it was Titanic Scale… It was Titanic Scale.

Craft check… Successful

One layer of Ablative shell removed.

You know have an Ablative Sword

The outer layer of armor rippled into liquid and congealed into a chipped and battered long sword in my right hand.

Before I could do anything I felt the thrum of time stopping.

Ticket Entered: Possible Exploit…

Please wait…

Please wait…

Please wait…

Keeping track of time in this specific scenario was difficult. I had to resort to counting Mississippis. It was when I reached 1327 that I lost patience.

“What the fuck!” I bellowed into the sky. When no answer came I turned to the Sergeant. Right now he was helpless. I looked at the sword I had made. I could…

That was a dark thought.

No. I wasn’t going to murder someone like this… well not the Sergeant. Who knows what sort of crazy asshole I could meet in the future? I wasn’t going to commit to never using this sort of tactic forever. I could meet like… a clown, one from the circus or something. I would stab them for the good of everyone.

That said, the Narrators couldn’t read my mind anymore, since I had Mental Resistance. I was pretty sure they couldn’t. Now is a good time to prove that.

“Either tell me what is happening right now or I stab him with this sword and completely screw your continuity!” I shouted into the air. Sure, I was bluffing, but…

“You get we aren’t in the sky, right?” a familiar voice asked behind me.

I turned around and was around and was mildly surprised, “What the hell are you doing here, Brandon?”

“Lindsey and Wilson are having a debate. They had to pull in a continuity expert to weigh in on your Craft check. Since you are in Lola’s domain, and she is one of the biggest players in Europe, I am involved.” He said.

This was on me. I set the bar too low, “Send someone useful, like Denise!” I yelled up into the sky.

“If you don’t start showing me some respect…” Brandon started but quickly stopped when I met his gaze.

I was not in the mood for Narrator nonsense. People's lives were hanging in the balance. Mine included. When I spoke it was in a clear and precise voice, “Answer my questions. Why is time stopped?”

“To resolve the exploit discussion,” Brandon said. The twerp seemed to think that was a satisfactory answer.

I just glared at him.

Brandon, sensing my displeasure continued explaining, “It is a bit of a tough call. On the one hand, generating the structural armor is acceptable. I mean… yeah… it is Titanic scale, but it is fleeting. It is going to break pretty quickly. Plus the System is biased toward attacks and damage. You crafting material is fine also. The audience likes when you get creative. Punching is only so fun. The issue is now you have a Titanic Scale weapon. Yes, it is going to break when you hit someone with it but…” he paused.

“But what?” I pressed him. I almost took a step closer, but that would have been too much. Brandon was obviously a coward, and he clearly was afraid of me. Pushing too hard would clam him up.

Brandon considered for a moment. He seemed to be able to hear something I could not, “The issue is the damage the weapons will deal is based on the structural points the armor had. Due to your perks the weapon made will have the base damage of the weapon, based on its Scale, for titanic weapons that is 50 for medium weapons, plus the structural points the armor had, plus your Might attribute, plus the dice roll.”

That made sense. Lindsey clearly wanted to piss me off. She also seemed deeply uncomfortable with me having any significant damage dealing capacity. She didn’t want me growing too fast. That is probably why the lock on my experience.

Brandon flinched as my gaze focused on him again, “Who requested and implemented the block on me gaining experience?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Brandon exclaimed.

I looked at my sword then at Brandon, “What if I test this on you?”

“You wouldn’t…” Brandon paused and looked into my eyes, “Are you seriously threatening a Narrator?”

“With a Titanic Scale sword,” I confirmed. “We are off screen Brandon. I doubt anyone will help you. Ask yourself do you owe whoever sent you here anything besides a knife in the back? It is what they did to you. Why do you think they sent you here?”

I could tell he considered my words because he grasped at straws, “If you hurt me there will be consequences.”

“No there won’t. Not for me at least. The Titan scared you fuckers away once when I taught Spine Dark Magic. If you tried to systematically stomp on me, he will slaughter you. Plus any shit you could try and pull would be messing with one of Wilson’s stories. How'd that work out for Fiona? The simple truth is, Brandon, you and your allies aren’t hard enough to take him. If I kill you, you die, and the world moves on uncaring. If you want to live, tell me who put the lock on my XP and for what reasons.”

Brandon was quiet for a good twenty Mississippis. Finally he spoke up, “Wilson allowed the restriction to be put on you due to concerns raised by Lindsey from several of her players. Wilson mentioned some of his players also voiced concerns. I can’t tell you who made the requests…”

“But…” I pressed.

“Technically you do have a right to hear and provide a counter argument to the claims. If you request to see the claims, the choice is already made.” Brandon offered, still watching the sword.

“Yeah, sure, I request to hear the claims,” I lowered the sword.

Brandon pulled a stack of note cards out of his pocket. “The first one first submitted when you were level two says: I worry Dougie could destabilize the narratives of the entirety of the East Coast. Bro just needs to slow down, you know.”

Zach. I gestured for Brandon to continue.

Brandon switched to the next card, “Second at level three: ‘The boy is hopeless. Without my help we are going to end up with another Nadia. Just hold his experience until I get him a piece of angel cake.’”

And there was Adora. What a shock.

Brandon continued, “This was submitted at level four. ‘Titan Spawn have a historical bias against my people. Please slow growth until after I have had a chance to speak with this sixth spawn directly. I will collaborate in the meeting as needed.’”

No idea who that is. Lola?

“Another this one at level seven, Says: I am open to having this Titan Spawn shelter through the mob rush but I ask his progression be slowed until after the Mob Rush is completed to prevent any significant damage to my domain.”

That one was probably Lola. Who was the other one?

No Exploit Detected

Time will resume in:

5…

4…

3…

2…

Oh good the motion, chronological time, and violence was back.

The Sergeant tried to kick me in the head. I just managed to avoid the metal boot. I was pretty sure. I seized my moment and struck with the sword. Quietly hoping he didn’t have his arm in the Mechs, I chopped at the shoulder!

Attack from Sargent Majors… dodged.

Counter-attack successful

Sargent Majors take 0 damage.

Ice scattered everywhere as the weapon shattered instantly on impact. It did nothing.

We both stood there for a brief moment.

“I don’t suppose that was blessed or something?” I asked finally.

The Sergeant shrugged the shoulder of the mech, “I found religion early in life. It would seem the mechanics at some point did as well.” he glared at me for a moment, “You should take a moment to consider it too.”

I felt Mental Resistance slap the Intimidation check away from me. I did still have a faint beat of anxiety. The ringing from the phantom pain was beginning to drown out sound again.

I slammed my fist against my leg. The white noise faded from a roar in my senses to a hiss.

“Let’s not beat around the bush here,” I said. “You are too tough for me to crack in the domain, but without your gun you can really hurt me either. I mean how many missile do you got left?”

“Enough,” The Sergeant hedged.

He didn’t bombard me, taking that as a good sign I continued, “Since violence isn’t getting us anywhere. We really only have one option left.”

“And what would that be?” he asked.

“Talk through this like reasonable adults,” I almost yelled.

“Hard pass. You have been burnt, battered and bloodied. I’ll see you beaten. If you don’t give up you’ll break.” The Sergeant charged. He brought his right hand down hard aiming for my head. I blocked the attack and caught it with my left. The Ice cracked under my feet. The Sergeant believed in fighting smarter and threw a left hook at my side. I stepped into the strike and caught the arm at the elbow.

We ended up stuck. Neither of us could get a meaningful advantage over the other. I felt the muscles in my back, shoulders and arms tear and mend and tear and mend again. Metal screamed but neither of us budged.

“Sunit!” I yelled.

“Yes?” he asked. He looked deeply, almost spiritually baffled that I would pause mid fight to talk to him.

“Does the ring matter?” I called another Idea forming in my mind.

“Not really.” Sunit said with a shrug. “It really just serves as a starting point, but once the duel starts the fight can go almost anywhere.”

“Well to hell with this then.” I muttered. I let go of the mech’s arms and let it strike me. Each hit dealt three to four points of damage. I ducked forward and seized the mech in a bear hug. I then used the leverage to push.

Step by painful step I pushed the Mech and the Sergeant inside toward the edge of the domain. The white noise roared again. It pulsed and faded as the Sergeant battered me with a parade of hammer blows. They fell one after another onto my neck, shoulders, back arms, and head. I just kept pushing him to the edge. Outside the Domain this thing would be vulnerable. I need to keep going. Just a little further. Focus on each step.

I felt the metal plate slide open. Just below the view port, was a little sliding door big enough for a hand. I heard a ‘Crack!’ of energy the same moment a tiny burn appeared on my chest.

Attack From Sargent Majors Successful

You take 3 points of damage

You have been damaged by your Bane (Light)

You have the Baneridden Condition. Perks and Traits suppressed.

HP: 417/420

Titanic Regeneration paused due to Baneridden Condition

Oh. He had a laser pistol. This is my problem with Star Wars.

Now my regen was turned off. Fuck a various assortment of ducks.