Super Genetics

The Emperor reclined in his throne, plain-clothed and unmasked. All the non-Awakened relatives and undead had left after the initial congratulations. Now, only the revenants and Terry’s father were in attendance. Behind the Emperor, Whipvine had an ear-to-ear grin as they conversed back and forth via System chat.

[Whipvine]: I’m proud of you, kiddo! Even if you did get a pansy-ass Class like Alterant!

[Terrence Fairway II]: Hah, thanks old man!

Mesmer had also sent him a private chat request, though his congratulations were more subdued. Terry was feeling the distance that had begun to grow after his father had remained in Topeka.

[Mesmer]: Welcome to the fight, Terry. I can’t wait to hear more about your Skills.

[Terrence Fairway II]: Thanks, Mes.

He pulled his attention from the series of chats to focus on his grandfather. The Emperor had seemed less than impressed with his Class, his lips pursed in disappointment that he didn’t care to hide. He had shown some slight interest toward Terry’s third Skill, but only to clarify the usecase.

“So you think you’ll be able to alter your DNA to do what, exactly?” The Emperor’s tone was skeptical.

Terry shrugged, keeping his expression tight so his grandfather wouldn’t notice just how nervous he was. It was one thing to game plan this conversation with his father beforehand, and entirely another to blatantly lie to not only the Emperor, but all the powerful revenants that regarded him with a mix of pride, interest, and boredom.

The only revenant whose reaction he hadn’t anticipated, was War Crimes. The man’s usual arrogant smirk was gone, replaced with a piercing look that seemed to see through his subterfuge. Fletcher was a Duelist, so his aura sense shouldn’t have been heightened enough to perceive emotional fluctuations from across the throne room, but Terry kept his aura in tight and controlled regardless.

If he’d learned anything in the past five minutes, it was that you never knew a super’s true powerset—only what they wanted you to know.

He turned his focus away from War Crimes and back to the Emperor.

“I believe I’ll be able to alter my body to enhance its strength, toughness, and possibly even its shape.” He purposefully didn’t mention the metaphysical component of his Skill or the Affixation aspect. Let them think he was a physical mutation type super. Harmless to them, the opposite of a threat. “I might even be able to achieve Duelist level Attribute rankings eventually. Maybe I can learn to grow gills and breathe underwater? Increase the density of my organs to survive the ocean depths? Or maybe I can learn how to survive in a vacuum for short periods of time? Who knows?”

I might even be able to do all those things, he thought. Eventually…

“I see,” the Emperor replied with a practically disinterested tone. As soon as Terry had mentioned Alterant, he’d seen the light go out of his grandfather’s eyes. The man had wanted Summoner—that much was obvious. If only he knew what choosing that path would have led to. “It’s a shame you didn’t follow in your family’s footsteps. Though I do acknowledge the potential utility of such a powerset. I’ll reserve judgment for now.” He turned to his left, facing Whipvine, the Professor, and the Iron Maiden. “Patricia, as a Catalyst, you’ll oversee my grandson’s power education.” Terry flinched at the declaration, while the Iron Maiden bristled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Set up a schedule and send me weekly updates.” His grandfather turned back to Terry, but the Iron Maiden stepped forward, drawing his gaze back.

Her voice was husky, like a lifetime of booze and smoke had eroded her throat. It was a sound that Terry couldn’t recall ever hearing, now that he thought about it. “My Emperor, I am a poor teacher. The Professor knows just as much as—”

His voice cut across her, and for the first time, Terry could actually sense his grandfather’s aura flare. It stretched out like a viper, engulfing the Iron Maiden’s aura like a clenched fist. She flinched at the touch, her nose furling in a snarl.

“Practical experience trumps academic understanding, Patricia.” The aura touch shifted to Terry’s senses, a tendril of something passing through to invade the Iron Maiden’s aura.

Metaphysical component detect—

He flicked away the notification and dismissed the Skill. If he let it run its course, his own aura would reach out and try to analyze his grandfather’s—there’d be no hiding that. But he couldn’t deny it, he felt a thrill of excitement at the realization that he could analyze his grandfather’s power, even from a distance. Not only could he analyze it, he could detect it. Meaning that he’d be able to detect other super’s powers as they activated! The revelation opened up a whole new aspect of his powers and aura sense.

His grandfather had continued talking, but Terry had missed it in his excitement.

“As you command, my Emperor,” the Iron Maiden ground out, her jaw visibly clenching. Then, her gaze turned to Terry with a burning fire, silver specks of magic swirling in her eyes. He flinched under that stare, feeling the anger and hate like a force.

He realized that it wasn’t him that she hated, but his grandfather. And he could finally understand why.

The man had flexed his power over her to force her compliance. That would make anyone furious. Which makes me wonder, why do Mesmer, Whipvine, and the Professor seem content in their service to grandfather, while War Crimes, the Iron Maiden, and Savage clearly hate the man?

Is it the nature of how they were turned? Or does he flex his power more over some than others? He supposed it made sense; his grandfather had turned War Crimes and the Iron Maiden after they went on supervillain rampages. And Savage had obviously been taken whilst trying to kidnap Terry.

Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know the circumstances of how Whipvine, Mesmer, or the Professor had been turned. Maybe it had been amicable—which sounded bizarre, but he could see it in very specific circumstances. Or maybe they just didn’t buck against the Emperor’s control and so didn’t invite reprisals like he had just seen the Iron Maiden endure?

He tabled the thought, turning his attention back to his grandfather as the man rose from his throne.

“Congratulations, grandson. Now that you’ve Awakened, we can confirm the details of your Awakening celebration. The parade will occur tomorrow at noon, followed by a more intimate party in the evening.” Terry felt his stomach flip as he realized what a parade meant. They were going to march him through the city in this fog? Would people even come? “The Council has already RSVP’d, as well as Team Dallas.” Now Terry’s anxiety really spiked. The Council! Team Dallas! “Dancer has marked himself as tentative—”

“Dancer!” Terry blurted out, then withered in on himself as he realized he’d just interrupted his grandfather in front of everyone.

“Tentative,” his grandfather repeated, passing over the interruption with only a slight frown. “This shouldn’t require saying, but freshly Awakened sometimes grow careless in their excitement.” The Emperor strode down the dais, approaching Terry with an aura that dwarfed his own. The man wasn’t flexing it or extending it to intimidate Terry—it was just that much more, even placid and inert. Terry instinctively inclined his head as his grandfather approached, but not before noticing the dismissive glance he sent toward Terry’s father who had stood silently at his side. “Though we are inviting foreign powers into our home, they are not your friends. When you discuss your Awakening, you are only to offer your Class. The specifics of your Skills are family secrets, understood?”

“Yes, grandfather.”

“Good. With that said, congratulations again, Terry.” He strode up to Terry, his eyes burning green as they came face-to-face. A small smile touched his grandfather’s lips, surprising Terry for how out of place it seemed. He extended a hand and Terry glanced at it in shock, not immediately registering it for what it was. When his brain finally cleared through the fog of shock, he clasped hands with his grandfather for the first time in his life. His grandfather’s grip was tight as he leaned in close, his voice low. “And welcome to the fight.”

He flicked away the Skill notification one more time as his grandfather departed.

That’s getting really annoying…

After his grandfather left the throne room, the other revenants approached to offer their congratulations—with varying levels of excitement or borderline hostility, depending on the person.

Patricia—the Iron Maiden—was the first to approach, her face clenched tight, her aura opaque and withdrawn.

His stomach fluttered as she approached and she held out her hand with obvious reticence.

Metaphysical component detected…

He dismissed the notification and released the Skill on instinct.

“Congratulations, Prince Terry,” she ground out, her eyes flicking to James briefly. “We’ll begin our sessions next Monday at dawn. I’ll come to you.” She brushed past him before he could respond.

Dawn…? Now that was just cruel. He was more of a night person, though now that he thought about it, it was pretty much night all the time…

He was chuckling to himself at the realization, when War Crimes approached.

The doubtful look from earlier was replaced with his usual arrogant smile as he regarded both Terry and James.

“Alterant, huh? What a strange first Class for the son of a Summoner and a Distorter. Wouldn’t you say, Prince James?” The whites of his teeth were bared as he regarded Terry’s father.

What was he driving at? Terry wondered. Was he implying that I received a crappy Class when I should have been something immediately useful?

“Fletcher,” his father growled. “What use is a powerful Class when you’re dead? Move along now, little revenant. We’ve no time for your games.”

War Crimes’ smug smile didn’t waver in the slightest and Terry tentatively opened his aura sense to see if he could parse the revenant’s mood via his aura. With a shock, he realized that War Crimes’ aura was barely visible, a thin veneer wrapped around most of his body, whereas everyone else he’d examined wore it like a thick cloak. But then a flicker of the man’s hands drew his eye and he couldn’t help but lean in curiously.

The aura around War Crimes’ hands was condensed, thick and powerful in stark contrast to the rest of his body. The revenant seemed to notice his attention and held his hands up at eye level.

“Admiring my tools?” He chuckled. “I’d be happy to show the prince how to shoot if he were interested.”

Before Terry could respond, his father stepped forward, his voice low.

“I told you to move along.”

War Crimes spared another half-second to smile at Terry before he stepped back and bowed low—his face a mask of mockery.

“As you wish, my prince.”

Then the man was past and Terry glanced back to watch him go.

What had that been about?

Before he could ask his father, the Professor approached, her eyes focused for once.

“Congratulations, Prince Terry! Alterant is a fascinating Class with much unexplored potential!”

“Thanks, Professor.” He opened his senses once more, examining the Professor in a new light. On a hunch, he directed his attention to her head and was pleased to see his speculation was correct.

A corona of power encased what he assumed was her brain, concentrated there while the rest of her aura was weak in comparison. He had a desperate urge to reach out and activate his Skill, but restrained himself. She moved past and Whipvine and Mesmer approached together.

Whipvine slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder and that familiar notification appeared.

Metaphysical component detected…

He released it once more, but not before noting that Whipvine had a similar aura concentration in his hands that extended past his wrists and stopped right before his elbow. Terry had a suspicion now of what he was seeing, but it was a question he could ask his father when they were alone.

“Welcome to the fight, Terry!” Whipvine’s voice was boisterous and full of open joy. He chuckled, lightly punching James with a familiarity that spoke of decades of friendship. “Told you he wouldn’t get Summoner. Pay up!”

Terry whirled on his father, whose expression was tight and humorless. “You bet on what Class I’d get?”

The man looked down at him with raised eyebrows. “No, Terry, Whipvine’s just messing with us.” He turned back and lightly returned the punch. “He’s just bitter cause he thought you’d be a Duelist. The System spared you that fate, knowing you had no good teachers present.”

Whipvine barked out a laugh, tilting his head in acknowledgment as he stepped back to make room for Mesmer.

“I’ll admit,” Mesmer added. “I had hoped for Hypnotist. You have an impressive knack for aura control. But Alterant is certainly interesting. And it leaves the avenue open for a transition to Distorter.” Mesmer’s aura danced around his head, similar to the Professor, but looser, less concentrated internally. “I know you had hoped to eventually follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

Terry shrugged, distracted as he examined the revenant’s specific aura configuration.

“Would have been happy with Summoner, too,” he replied, throwing his father a concession to reinforce the bond they had been repairing. “But Alterant does seem to have some interesting implications. Need to dig into it some more and see where I can take it.”

Mesmer nodded, giving Terry a quick handshake. He dismissed the Skill instinctively by this point.

“Well, Nick and I will leave you to it. I’m sure your father’s eager to teach you about the System interface.”

“Oh, come on!” Whipvine complained. “I wanna see him use his powe—” He cut off as Mesmer wrapped an arm around his shoulder and started directing him away. “Fine, fine, no need to manhandle me, Seb.”

They left the throne room trading barbs back and forth as Terry turned to his father.

“I have a question.”

“Just one?” his father asked with an arched eyebrow.

Terry chuckled. “No, a million. But my first question is: can I turn this Skill off? It keeps trying to activate every time someone touches me or uses their power. And it’s really intrusive.”

James nodded. “Ah, yeah, I’ve heard the analyzing Skills can be persistent. Let’s find somewhere private to chat and I’ll help you unpack all this new information.”

They made their way to the living quarters, heading for his father’s room. It had been months since he’d seen his parents’ room and he felt a flutter of nervousness that he might see his mother’s things and get hit with a wave of melancholy.

But when they entered the suite, he was surprised to see it mostly cleared out, the furniture covered in sheets against the dust. His father cringed in embarrassment, moving about hurriedly to peel off the covers to make space for them to sit.

“Sorry about the mess…it’s been a while as you know.”

“It’s fine,” Terry replied absentmindedly, moving further into the entry way. His eyes cast about, peering past the doorway leading into the bedroom. He hadn’t planned it, but he found himself looking for a white rose. The tense reunion with his father and the attention of the Emperor and his revenants had distracted Terry from the Quest to find his mother’s roses. But now that he was in his father’s suite, it seemed the most likely place if the man did have one.

He considered keeping the question to himself, doing some sleuthing on his own later. But the need burned inside his chest, too powerful to keep bottled up.

“Dad…”

James turned back from where he was depositing the dusty sheets, concern in his eyes as he heard Terry’s tone.

“What’s wrong?” He looked about, as if expecting something to have triggered Terry’s worry. “Is it this room? We can find somewhere else to—”

“It’s not that,” Terry said quickly. “I…had a question.”

James stood up, his brow knitted in confusion.

“Okay?”

Terry cleared his throat, steeling himself for possible disappointment, maybe even anger. But he needed to ask.

“Do you have one of mom’s roses?”

His legs felt weak and he had to force himself to keep his eyes on his father rather than cast about nervously. James’ face smoothed, his expression turning carefully neutral as he regarded Terry. But the man’s aura was shifting, mirroring his obvious discomfort.

After a full three seconds, James pursed his lips and nodded.

“I do. Why do you ask?”

Because it’s a Quest and it’ll unlock the answer of what happened to mom and I need to know so give it to me!

“I saw Mes had one and it made me feel closer to mom. But he was pretty protective of it and I don’t think he’d let me take a closer look.” He very carefully kept the desperation out of his voice, doing his best to affect a casual tone. “Would it be okay…if I looked at yours?”

His father’s face was difficult to read, but his aura was another story. Unfortunately, Terry didn’t have the expertise to parse what he was seeing. But there was something there in the way James’ aura was dancing about.

“Uh, okay, Terry.”

He reeled back, unable to keep the surprise off his face. Okay? Was it really that simple? That would give him two roses out of four. With Mesmer’s, that made three that he knew the location of. As for decoding, well, he had the one in his jacket that he could experiment with. Once he was more confident in the process, he hoped decoding the others could be done under the guise of just taking a quick look.

“But I don’t have it with me,” his father continued, deflating Terry’s burgeoning excitement. “I left it back in my room in Topeka.”

“Oh…”

James coughed into his fist, looking off uncomfortably. “I’ll be sure to bring it back with me next time, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied, keeping his voice light to hide the disappointment.

James seemed to sense it regardless and spoke quickly to ease the mood.

“I’ll talk to Seb, how bout that? If it’ll give you some comfort…” He trailed off, noting Terry’s expression.

“It’s okay, dad. I can ask him myself.”

James nodded, shifting uncomfortably before snapping his fingers as if a thought had just occurred to him.

“Should we turn off your Skill’s automatic activation? I can imagine that’s getting pretty frustrating.”

Terry nodded, forcing a smile on his face.

“Sure!” he replied, affecting a false cheer.

James noted the hollow nature of the reply, a light frown touching his face.

“Well, you should be able to modify it with a thought. Pull up the Skill and think about it with intention. There’ll be a notification to make activation manual.”

Terry sat down on the nearest couch, doing as his father had said.

Toggle Metaphysical Analysis to manual?

He indicated yes with a thought.

Manual activation confirmed.

“It worked,” he said, feeling a bit of excitement return as he considered his new powers.

“Great. Let me show you some of the other System perks while we wait for your Attribute Ranking to update. Should be any minute now.”

“What is that, by the way? I noticed something about that in the first messages I received. And every Awakened I looked at had a field for Attribute Ranks, but they all said no data.”

His father nodded, taking the seat across from him.

“Okay, let’s dive in.” James leaned forward, a light of excitement in his eyes. “Here’s how Attributes work…”