[SLTS]—❈—14:: I Break A Tinker

…just as scheduled, Armsmaster shows up to take me for my first (as a ward, but second overall) power testing session, and when he does, I ask my new teammates if they’ll like to come along.

They agree eagerly.

—❈—

“I was thinking about testing your physical abilities today,” Armsmaster says, as we step out of my portal into the same power testing facility we used last time, “but since your teammates are here, I suppose this is as good an opportunity as any to test two of your powers that I’ve been curious about.”

Ordinarily, the tinker had told me, we would use the less equipped testing facility in the PRT HQ for most routine power testing, but since I can quite literally portal anywhere on Earth, he’s decided that we might as well just use the better equipped one at The Rig.

“Which ones?” I ask.

“The sword and the shield,” Armsmaster replies. “You’ve said that the sword can cut through anything?”

I nod. “That’s the feeling I get from it.”

“Wait, when you say anything, you mean like, anything, anything?” Chris asks.

I shrug. “I haven’t tried it on anything it didn’t cut,” I explain. “Though, to be fair, the strongest thing I’ve cut with it is a screwdriver, so…” I shrug again.

“You think it can cut space?” Missy wonders idly.

We stare at her.

“What?” she asks.

“Why would a sword be able to cut space?” Dennis asks.

“Musa said it can cut anything,” Missy says. “Space is a thing.”

“No, it isn’t,” Dennis argues.

“Yes, it is,” Missy disagrees.

“That’s enough,” Armsmaster cuts in, then to me he says; “Musa, I have several materials in my lab that we can test your sword with. I’ll be right back.”

It barely takes Armsmaster three minutes to return with an array of materials for me test my sword on.

Many of them look like disassembled parts of some gizmo or other, and, for a moment, I worry about destroying things that might be useful.

That lasts until I realize that, if Armsmaster didn’t consider them disposable, he would not be willing be use them to test a parahuman’s magic sword’s cutting ability.

Armsmaster hands me a piece of rust-red (but without any actual rust on it) metal.

“Start with this,” he says.

With a simple thought, I summon my sword, the naked blade appearing in my grasp silently and without any preternatural display.

The sword is simply not there in one moment, and there the next.

Dennis whistles, even as some of the other wards make appreciative sounds.

I chuckle. “Yeah, I know, that was my reaction too,” I say, taking the opportunity to appreciate the beauty of the weapon for a moment.

Armsmaster interrupts my moment. “Are you Chinese?” he asks.

I blink at the armoured man. “What?”

“That sword, it’s a jian; a Chinese one-handed blade,” Armsmaster explains. “I’m wondering if maybe your heritage or your interests played a role in its design.”

“Oh. Well, I can’t say I have any interest in Chinese culture,” I say. “And if I’m somehow part Chinese no one ever told me.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not though.”

Armsmaster nods. “I guess it’s yet another mystery of parahuman abilities that make no overt sense,” he says, sounding quite unhappy about that fact.

“The scientific term for which is, Power BS,” Dennis says, earning himself an eye roll and a few chuckles.

“Carry on,” Armsmaster says, reminding of what I summoned the sword for to begin with.

I hold up my sword, then, being careful to ensure my fingers remain as far away from the keen edge as they can be, I press the piece of rust-red metal into the blade’s edge.

There was never any doubt in my mind about what the result would be, but watching the metal part around the blade’s edge like… paper, or something, is still amazing to witness.

“Whoa,” Chris says, mirroring the expressions of the others. “That’s sharp.”

Armsmaster takes the pieces of the metal from me, and scans it with some sort of lens that protrudes from his helm.

“This is the cleanest cut I’ve ever seen,” he says, then stares at the sword in my hand.

He walks up and gingerly lifts the blade up to his lens scanner thingy.

“It’s a molecular edge,” he says, sounding almost envious. “But it’s more than that.”

He fiddles with his lenses a bit, peering closer and closer, and right when I’m about to warn him for fear that he may make contact with the blade, Armsmaster twitches in this very weird way and stills.

“Uh… is he okay?” I ask, panicking a little.

“Nope,” Dennis says. “You broke him.”

What?

“You didn’t break him,” Chris says. “He’s in a tinker fugue. Your sword must have helped him make a breakthrough on something he’s working—”

Armsmaster straightens suddenly, damn near scaring the life out of me, and, without so much as a ‘take care’, he marches right out.

“And he’s gone,” Dennis says.

“Where is he going?” I ask.

“His lab,” Chris says. “He needs to build whatever his power is giving to him. He’ll be miserable otherwise.”

“Is it like that for all tinkers?” I ask, staring at the boy.

I unsummon my sword; I can’t help but worry that it might also send him a tinker fugue.

Chris nods. “Yeah, it is. For some of us it’s practically the only way we can build anything worthwhile,” he says, a strange kind of disappointment in his tone.

Dennis pats him on the shoulder.

“Nah, man, you just need to find your specialty,” he says. “As soon as you do, you’ll make Armsmaster look bad.”

Chris rolls his eyes, but he looks thankful for the boy’s words.

I don’t really get what they’re talking about, but I don’t ask. Instead, I say; “So, uh… what now?”

Aegis checks his watch. “Some of us have patrol in less than twenty minutes,” he says then looks at me. “What were you supposed to do after power testing with Armsmaster?”

I shrug.

Aegis sighs. “I’ll call Miss Militia,” he says.

Miss Militia turns out to be available, and thanks to the convenience of portals, is with us within two minutes.

“So, he just walked off, huh?” the camo wearing hero asks, sounding like she’s holding back her amusement.

“Like the possessed chick in every horror movie,” Dennis says.

Miss Militia snorts. “Okay then,” she says. “What were you guys working on?”

I tell her, and the woman blinks at me.

“Yeah, all of that seems a bit outside my wheelhouse,” she says. “I mean, I can let you cut up all the fancy tech you want, but I wouldn’t know what any of it meant. I don’t even know the names of these materials.”

She thinks for a second.

“You’re a brute, right?” she asks finally.

“Uh, yeah.” I nod. “Stronger, faster, tougher. I heal well too.”

“Good,” Miss Militia says. “Let’s do that. Who among you have to go on patrol?”

And that’s how I spend my first power-testing session as a Ward running, jumping, climbing, lifting, punching, and sparring with Browbeat aka Elias.

Spoiler alert; he whoops my ass.