Super Genetics

Welcome to the fight…Those had been the words the System had said after he’d chosen his path. That had to be a common phrase among the Awakened.

“Uh, thanks?” Terry replied, pushing up to a sit. “That was insane—”

Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.

He cut off, staring at those words. The shock was immediately replaced with annoyance.

His father scoffed. “Let me guess? Got a warning message?”

Terry looked up in surprise. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Everyone gets them while they’re acclimating. Best not to talk about the Awakening until you’ve had some time to process.”

The warning continued to flash in his vision, so he thought about dismissing it and it flashed once more before disappearing.

“Here, take my hand. My legs were shaky after my Awakening.” His father reached down, his hand extended before Terry.

The man was being so casual, his tone friendly and encouraging. It almost lulled Terry into forgetting the anger and pain of the last six months. No, even the last six minutes before he’d climbed into the coffin had been terrible. He couldn’t let himself forget that his own father had blasted him with his aura right before his own Awakening.

I almost let my guard slip down. That won’t happen again.

He accepted his father’s hand, his mind shielded once more.

Metaphysical component detected…

Metaphysical analysis automatically commenced…

ERROR—

Metaphysical component exceeds F-rank. User input required…

He froze halfway to a stand, his father’s hand still clenched tight. James himself seemed to notice his Skill’s activation as well, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Hmmm, well I see you didn’t get Summoner,” the man said with a hint of disappointment. “Let me guess, Distorter? I feel your aura trying to hijack mine.”

For a second, his instinct had been not to reveal his Class. All his life, supers had maintained a sense of secrecy and reluctance in discussing details of their powers. Even among family, he had never been allowed to hear about the actual Skill names—only see them in practice. He understood now why that had been the case; the System put these restrictions on the Awakened, made it impossible for them to discuss the specifics with normies.

But he wasn’t a normie, not anymore.

“Well, actually, no.” James’ eyes narrowed. “I received Alterant.”

“Alt…you’re joking?”

He bristled at that, pulling his hand away as he stood up in the coffin. “Why would I be joking?”

James’ lips set, his aura shifting. “Don’t get defensive, Terry. I’m just—”

He cut across his father’s words, the anger from before the Awakening rekindling.

“Why shouldn’t I be defensive? Do you remember attacking me right before my Awakening?” His father’s face dropped and he felt emboldened. “How about the part where you forgot I existed for six months. Remember that? Maybe if I’d gotten Summoner, you’d still love me.”

“Terry—”

“But sorry dad, I’m just a useless Alterant. You should be celebrating! Maybe if I’d gotten Summoner, your father would forget you existed—”

Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.

He clamped his mouth shut, his chest heaving as he faced his father. James’ face was tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he regarded Terry. After a moment of tense silence, he spoke.

“Is it my turn?”

Terry shrugged indifferently, his eyes tracking down to the bone blade laying at the foot of the coffin. He reached down and tossed it out of the hole as his father spoke.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude about your Class, Terry. I was surprised because it’s not adjacent to Summoner or Hypnotist. And yes, I am concerned about your grandfather’s reaction.” He reached out, putting a hand on Terry’s arm, startling the boy enough to make him look back at his father’s face. “But if you received Alterant, it’s for a reason. I understand that. Will you tell me about your Skills while we walk back to the throne room?”

His emotions warred inside him, but he kept his aura reeled in tight. It galled him that his father’s entire demeanor had shifted post-Awakening; made him feel like he hadn’t mattered until he mattered. But he also couldn’t deny that he had missed the man—who he used to be, at least. Had missed that stalwart presence, that feeling of safety and assurance whenever he was around.

But there was still so much to be said first.

His voice was tight, barely a whisper.

“Tell me why. Why did you leave me? Why—” He cut off, the old emotions he had thought he’d buried clawing their way to the surface.

I’m not a kid anymore, dammit! Supers don’t cry. Lock it down and face him like an adult. No, face him like the hero you’re going to be.

He felt buoyed by that thought, standing taller, turning his eyes to lock onto the man he had once idolized.

Only to falter as he noticed the glistening in his father’s eyes.

“Terry, I—” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I…I’m sorry.”

He felt his mind tremble, his thoughts whiplashed by those words. Six months he had waited.

The wait had been worth it.

“I’m so sorry,” his father repeated. “Your mother’s death broke me, son.” The tears finally fell, cutting down his cheeks. “It broke me and I couldn’t face you. You look so much like her, I couldn’t—” He turned his back to Terry, his hand propped against the grave wall.

The sense of deja vu hit him so powerfully, he nearly froze. Just as he had frozen the last time his father had been so open. He felt the inflection point now, like a charged feeling in the air. Terry had made mistakes too. Hadn’t understood that his father was just a man. Beneath all the dignity and power, beneath the bone mask, was just a man.

He reached out, his hand clasping his father’s shoulder. James flinched and Terry almost pulled his hand back. But a moment later, his father reached up and grabbed it, turning to face him. Without realizing it, Terry’s own tears had started flowing. Instinct and need took over and he threw himself into his father’s arms. They wrapped around him, holding him tight and for a single moment, he was able to forgive the man for everything.

But moments were transitory and eventually, this one, too, passed. There were too many open questions for him to forgive and forget. He pulled away, feeling a fire in his own eyes that he’d never experienced before.

“What happened to mom?” His voice carried a cold steel, his aura shaped into the unyielding demand the way Crunch had taught him—compressed into sharp point, jabbed forward in a way that couldn’t be ignored. It was just short of an attack, the most fervent aura shape he could muster.

His father reeled back, from the aura shape or the question, he couldn’t say. But James recovered a moment later, his lips pursed.

“Your aura command is amazing for your age.”

“Don’t deflect.”

James looked off, seeming to study the blackwood coffin at their feet. When he looked back, there was an anger in his eyes—not directed at Terry, but there all the same.

“I can’t tell you.”

Terry felt his own anger rising, but his father raised a hand.

“No, Terry. I mean I literally can’t tell you. That should be telling in and of itself…”

His anger drained away, his mouth slack as the realization hit him.

“It’s a Quest!” The realization caused him to reel away, his thoughts in turmoil. “That’s the reason,” he muttered. “It’s a goddamn System restriction!” His voice rose at the end, the anger redirected toward those enigmatic Wakers. “It’s always been the System, hasn’t it? This is how they control us? By siloing us, isolating us from each other so we don’t know who to trust, who’s the—”

Warning! Revealing information about your Awakening will result in consequences.

He looked up toward the sky—he didn’t know why, but he needed a direction to vent his anger.

“Fuck you!” he shouted. “Fuck your consequences!”

“Terry.” His father rushed to him, both hands gripping his arms. “Don’t! I mean it. Don’t. These beings are not to be tested.” There was steel in his father’s voice, ripping him out of his burgeoning tantrum. “I know this from experience. If you ever trusted me, trust me about this.” The green of his father’s eyes flickered like ethereal flame as he stared into Terry’s own eyes. “Do not press the System on this. I’m begging you.” The worry slipped into his father’s voice, a desperation that shocked him silent for a moment.

When he recovered, his voice felt weak, the strength and elation of his new powers drained from him. “It can’t be like this,” he muttered, searching his father’s eyes. “This can’t be the truth of it all.”

James nodded, the sadness in his face echoing Terry’s own. “It is…and it isn’t. The burden of these secrets are a lot to bear. Sometimes, they tear friends and families apart. But sometimes, those bonds only appear broken.” He put his arm around Terry’s shoulders, giving him a squeeze. “Healing those bonds takes time and effort, but they will heal.” He gave Terry a playful shove. “And the power is nice, too. I know you’ve been dreaming of this moment for a long time. Try not to simmer in the hard parts right now. Enjoy the new strength. Experiment with your powers. I envy you, actually. Getting to experience your powers for the first time is better than s—” He cut off, clearing his throat suddenly. “We, um, we should get going. The Emperor will be waiting.”

Terry gave his father a wry smile, his tone playful. “Better than what?”

“Hm?” James replied, his tone coy. “Nothing, Terry.”

“I’m fourteen, dad. I know what sex is.”

“That’s not what—” He cut off, realizing how unconvincing he sounded. With a chuckle he nodded. “Sorry, sometimes I forget you’re not a kid anymore. You’re an Awakened, son.” The pride boomed in his voice. “You’re an Awakened! So what if Alterant isn’t nearly as cool as Summoner—”

Terry punched his father’s shoulder with a grin and James laughed.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” His face turned serious, and Terry felt his own wry grin drop. “No, seriously Terry. I’m proud of you. Whatever your Skills are, I’m sure you’ll use them to accomplish amazing things.”

Thinking about his Skills brought his mind back to his Quests. The playfulness was sapped away by the realization that he couldn’t tell his father about them; couldn’t seek his help or advice. He needed to figure out how to feed Wichita on his own. Which was daunting enough. But somehow, he also needed to find the four white roses his mother had created—without telling anyone the reason why!

His father seemed to sense the shift in his mood. He tapped Terry’s arm to get his attention, then flexed his legs and leaped out of the hole in a single motion. When he turned back, he had a childlike grin on his face.

“Come on, Terry. You’re never gonna be able to do that someday if you spend the rest of your life simmering down there.” He crouched, holding his hand out for Terry. “This is the last time you’ll need help climbing out of a hole.”

His father knew Alterant wasn’t a physical Class—that was common knowledge, even to normies. But even the non-physical Classes vastly outstripped regular humans at a breakneck pace. The thought of being able to leap six feet in the air with the casualness his father had just demonstrated filled him with longing.

He reached up and clasped hands, feeling the strength in the man’s hand as he hauled Terry up. That same Skill message filled his vision as they touched, but he dismissed it with a thought.

Out of the hole, he spotted Hoping Tree and the other unnamed lich. Their auras lit up in his eyes, coronas of light that possessed a metaphysical weight that he could actually feel.

“Welcome back, Prince Terry,” Hoping Tree said. “Your aura is strong. Am I correct in saying that you received an aura-based Class?”

He nodded, opening his own aura as he approached Hoping Tree. “Sort of. I’m an Alterant. I’m still figuring things out.”

Hoping Tree’s aura reached to meet his and he reached back, shaping his aura into the greeting gesture—one of the earliest shapes Crunch had taught him. Before his Awakening, he had considered it like a U-shape, the other participant’s aura matching as they slotted together—almost like a handshake. He had performed the greeting shape with Crunch so many times, thinking he had understood the bones of the gesture well enough.

But as one of the prongs of Hoping Tree’s U slotted into the empty space of his aura, and likewise his with the lich’s own shape, he realized just how dull his senses had been.

Images and emotions filtered in through the contact points, like open pores releasing pheromones from Hoping Tree’s aura into his own. He felt the lich’s pride in his people, the loyalty to the Emperor, and his happiness for Terry’s Awakening. Beneath those surface thoughts, he saw that same tree, standing hopefully on that single hill, alone and unbent—the lich’s namesake. Though the information coming through was nearly overwhelming, it wasn’t unfiltered; Terry realized that Hoping Tree was directing which thoughts and feelings slipped through the contact. But he could tell that lying would be difficult through this aura touch, require a meticulous care to craft very specific thoughts and emotions.

It was almost too open and it scared Terry. He pulled back, having kept his own aura tight so that nothing accidental filtered through.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly. “Sorry. I didn’t expect that.”

“Do not apologize, young prince. The greeting shape can be startlingly intimate for newly Awakened. It is not always such.”

He nodded, feeling overwhelmed with all the new experiences of the last few minutes. His father stepped to his side, pulling his attention from Hoping Tree.

“We better get going. The others will be waiting for us.”

Sudden anxiety spiked, a heavy feeling in his stomach. He’d have to face the Emperor, knowing what he knew about Wichita, the paths the System had offered him, and more. He’d have to explain his new Class and Skills, even though he barely understood them himself.

His skin flushed at the thought, his heart pounding in his chest.

A hand gripped his shoulder, anchoring him.

“It’ll be fine, Terry. Tell me about your Skills while we walk.”

My Skills…The thought thrilled him. It had finally happened, he was finally a superhero.

Or, at least, he had powers. Becoming a hero would happen in time.

“They’re not what I expected,” he said as they left the chamber. He gave a wave as the two liches stayed behind. “I received a subtype for my Class—” He turned to his father. “Is that normal?”

James’ lip turned up in a smile. “Yes, it’s normal. You can think of that as a specialization track. It’s chosen for you by the System at first. But when we rank up, we’re usually given choices.” He stopped, noting the frown on Terry’s face. “What?”

“That word,” Terry replied. “Choices.” He half-expected a System warning to pop up, but when it didn’t he continued—making sure he stayed circumspect. “I know I can’t talk about it, but…” He cut off, shaking his head as he tried to find the words. “It feels like…I’m a piece on the board. And not a powerful piece.” He turned to look at his father as they walked. “Does that feeling of powerlessness ever go away?”

James’ chewed his lip, a pensive look on his face. After a moment of silence, Terry snorted.

“I think your silence is answer enough.”

His father shook his head. “It’s not that…I’m just wondering how to phrase this. I won’t lie to you, Terry, there’s a heavy weight we all bear when we join this fight. And sometimes, it does feel like we’re pawns being sacrificed to the broader game. But…” He hesitated, looking off as they walked.

“But what?” Terry prompted.

When James cut his gaze back toward Terry, there was a sharpness to his eyes, a youthful exuberance that Terry had never seen before.

“But sometimes, Terry…sometimes you’re the piece that puts the opponent’s king into check. Sometimes, you see the entire game laid out before you and your role comes into perspective. There can be a…beauty in being an integral part of something greater than yourself.” James’ shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his face. “It sounds silly, I know—”

Terry shook his head. “No. It doesn’t sound silly.”

They walked in silence for a few moments, then his dad chuckled.

“We were talking about your Skills. Alterant, huh? What exactly are you altering, then?”

Terry was happy to change the subject back to something less heady. With a thought, he found himself able to pull up the description of his Skills. “The descriptions aren’t very explicit. It seems like I have two analysis Skills that help feed the third Skill.”

His father nodded. “That sounds right. Tell me about the primary Skill, then.”

Terry read the description once more.

Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation (F)

Alter genetic and metaphysical components to emulate and affix a previously cataloged power

Free Affixation Slots: 1 (F)

“It’s called Genetic-Metaphysical Affixation,” he said, his eyes trailing over the space before him as he read. “It says: alter genetic and metaphysical components to emul—”

His father gasped and Terry turned in surprise. James’ eyes were wide, though he recovered quickly, clearing his throat.

“What?” Terry asked. “Is that bad…?”

James snorted, shaking his head. “No, son. Affixations are incredibly powerful. They’re not as powerful as mutation-based powers, but are more versatile. From the sounds of it, you’ll be able to affix certain powers. Read the rest to me, will you.”

Terry did, reading each of the Skills verbatim as his father listened raptly. When he was done, James walked in silence for a moment, and Terry resisted the urge to prompt the man.

When James did break the silence, it was with a bit of awe in his voice.

“Terry, I’m not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d get Summoner. For selfish reasons, sure, but also because I knew you’d have the best teacher in the world in your grandfather. And yes, Alterant has a bit of an underpowered reputation. But son…” He stopped and turned to Terry. “I think you just received one of the most flexible powersets I’ve ever heard of.”

The revelation rocked him back on his heels. He had been feeling insecure after his father’s gut reaction. But hearing the man validate his Alterant Skills finally put him at ease.

“You really think so?” Terry asked.

James nodded, his eyebrows raised. “Very much so. You remember Null? He’s the closest comparison I can think of to your powerset.”

Of course Terry knew about Null—he had been considered one of the strongest supers in the world until his death.

“Sure, but he was a Visionary—” James tilted his head in doubt. “—wasn’t he…?”

“That was his Capstone Class. He Awakened as an Alterant, then transitioned to Distorter post-Midmark.”

Terry reeled at the revelation. Everyone had always thought Null was a single-Class super. HeroWatch had lied to him! But the comparison didn’t track—Null hadn’t done anything remotely close to replicating powers.

“Why is he the closest comparison?” Terry asked. “I thought he could negate powers, not replicate them.”

“That was what he let us think. He understood how dangerous it would be to reveal his actual powerset.”

“What was his actual powerset?”

“He could negate powers, but that was just a symptom. It came out later that he was able to alter a super’s aura. No one likes their powers being affected, but this went one step further.” The steel in his father’s eyes was unnerving, that green fire burning bright as they bored into him. “He was able to alter a super’s aura permanently, strip them of their powers forever…an affixation. As soon as that came to light, a coalition of S-rankers hunted him down.”

“I thought he died during a Summons!”

James tilted his head, a skeptical look on his face.

“He was…assassinated?”

“Sure was.”

He felt his pulse pounding in his throat. “Bu-but that’s not what my power does at all! Mine just seems to replicate!”

“I’m not saying this to scare you, Terry.” Too late, he thought. “It’s just that that word, affixation, has connotations within the super community that you want to avoid. In fact, I think it’s best if you…” James bit his lip in thought for a moment. “Omit some details.”

“Omit? From who?” The seriousness in James’ eyes told Terry exactly from who he was implying. He opened his mouth to protest, but his father held out a hand.

“One second, don’t say anything.”

He froze in surprise as his father’s eyes went unfocused. A moment later, a notification popped in view.

James Fairway of Wichita has requested a private channel. Accept?

“Wha-what’s that?” Terry asked.

“The System provides conveniences for us. One of those being private chats. No one can see what you say in these chats—not even the Emperor. But keep in mind, the restrictions given by the System still apply.”

Terry regarded that notification for another second, then mentally accepted.

Words began scrolling across his eyes, blocking his vision. With a thought, he found he was able to move their location off to the side so they were less obtrusive.

[James]: We can talk here. You can indicate the chat window with a thought, then think the words you want to say. Another mental command will send them to the recipient.

[Terrence Fairway II]: You don’t really think it would be unsafe to tell grandfather about my affixation Skill, do you?

[Terrence Fairway II]: And how do I change this name!? Terrence Fairway II?

[James]: I’ll show you how after your Status Sheet finishes compiling. Usually only take an hour or so.

[James]: And to answer your other question…I’m not sure how the Emperor will react…He’s been increasingly erratic since he left me in Topeka. I…I wouldn’t take the risk.

We can alter the details slightly to make it less threatening.

Terry turned away from the chat and focused his eyes back on his father. The worry was impossible to miss in the furtive shift of his eyes.

“What’d you have in mind?” he asked out loud.

[James]: Don’t say anything about affixation. Here’s what we say instead…