Chapter 117: Neuron’s Funhouse

Chapter 117: Neuron’s Funhouse

Without hesitation, the closest technician’s arm grew a shiny black keratinous coating that converted their entire left arm into a wicked spike. They drew it back and angled it towards Perry’s chest.

Gogogogogogogo! Perry thought, clenching his teeth as he scratched away at the inside of his boot covering as fast as physically possible. Try as he might, the boot didn’t crumble fast enough, and Perry could only watch helplessly as the shiny black spike closed in on his heart.

SLAM! Perry was rocked back in the seat, his breath driven out of his chest.

HP 1/8

Neuron’s science experiment frowned glancing at where his spike had stopped short after dimpling the skin of Perry’s chest.

Some of the HP came back while I was out! Perry thought.

“That’ll be the passive shielding Chemestro mentioned in his report.” Neuron said. “Keep going. It will fail shortly.”

Perry was screaming internally as the super drew back his Perry-killing spike again. Every ounce of Perry’s focus that wasn’t contemplating imminent death was bent on loosening his restraints.

He could feel the rust flaking off from inside, crumbling away...

SLAM!

HP 0/8

It’s not gonna be fast enough! Perry thought as the super pulled back for another attack.

What else can I do!?How can I buy time!?

Multi-tool and Aerosolize both needed hands, and he couldn’t...

Light!

Light could be used as a flashbang, he could summon it outside the gloves, but it didn’t have the impact he needed.

A burst of inspiration hit Perry as the curved black horn descended towards his heart.

Please work!

Perry gave a sharp exhale, aiming his breath at his hand.

LIGHT.

4/5 charges remaining.

The modified air around his hand formed itself into a slightly reflective dish, bouncing the already flashbang-bright light back into his attacker’s eyeball.

POW.

CRUNCH!

Crunch?

Perry’s eyes widened as the super reeled back, clutching a smoking eye with his left hand, his right arm dripping blood. Dripping blood?

Perry’s left side itched.

He glanced over and spotted a hole in his left shoulder, about the size of a half-dollar. He’d thrown the attack off course, saving his life, but he hadn’t stopped it. Now Perry was down an arm.

Well, that’s not good.

“AGH!” One-eye growled and aimed at Perry’s face.

FINALLY!

Perry’s right foot burst free from the restraints in an explosion of rust, and Perry shifted all his free points over to Body.

Attunement 39 ->35

Body 7 ->11

Perry kicked the attack aside, wincing as it crashed through the needle helmet, an inch away from his ear. The other technicians were deploying their superpowers, filling the room with crackling energy.

Aerosolize

With a superhuman level of speed and dexterity born of desperation, Perry snatched a tiny can of chlorine trifluoride out of the ether with his toes and flung it in the path of a lightning-clad fist approaching him before grabbing One-eye and yanking him in close to cover Perry.

The full twenty ounces last time had nearly killed him and everyone else at the ball. Perry had severely underestimated what chlorine trifluoride could do when boosted by his Spendthrift perk. Perry just wanted to...singe them a little bit. And not kill himself.

BOOM!

Suddenly, everything was on fire, alarms immediately began to ring, drowning out the screams of the burned. Water began to pour from the ceiling, and in a surreal moment in the scene of absolute chaos, Perry saw water catch fire out of the corner of his eye.

Perry’s left foot came free from the restraints in time to ward off an attack from one of the luckier supers who hadn’t caught fire, swinging down at him with a summoned blade of some kind.

The tip hovered near Perry throat for an instant before Perry rolled his ankle and caught the hilt, turning the blade off to the side an instant before it elongated, plowing through the back of his seat beside his neck.

As water began infiltrating the tear in the torture chair, it hissed and sparked with electricity from the heavy wiring inside.

Perry kicked the blade-wielder and one-eye away, then tore his right hand free of the crumbling restraints.

Multi-tool

PING!

Killing Father without the right information would result in dozens if not hundreds of his brothers and sisters starving to death, locked inside their steel dormitories.

That would make Chemestro...uncomfortable.

More importantly, it would harm his chances of being appointed as an Anchor. Whether or not father was still there to be pleased with Chemestro’s success was...irrelevant.

Why am I even still aiming for Anchor? He thought, holding his temple as he controlled his breathing. Chemestro felt lost in an endless void and only the last task he’d been assigned was his guiding beacon.

But there was nothing there for him.

Even if everything goes according to plan...what will I do next?

Chemestro was standing on the edge of a vast unknown, and it was only the threat of death prodding him from behind that gave him the courage to step forward.

An asset always looks to preserve their own lives above every other consideration save for the mission. I cannot use you if you are dead.

Chemestro shook his head and took his hand away from the bracer, where he’d been idly picking at the facsimile. Tells like that would get him killed here.

This looks like medbay 3. I can still see the scratch on the floor form when 844 exploded.

From medbay three, the command console was a hard right, fifteen paces past the blue light, pause for fifteen seconds, then left through the wall.

Mission Start.

Chemestro pushed himself off the bed and got to his feet, when sudden motion caught his attention.

462 limped into the medbay, his right eye a charred hole in his face, body covered in burns.

“Four sixty two,” Chemestro said.

“Chemestro,” 462 said, nodding at him before flopping facedown onto one of the medical beds.

“Treatment for severe burns. Morphine,” 462 gave the bed terse orders.

A needle on a robotic arm jabbed into the low-level shifter’s shoulder, and he relaxed with a sigh as the painkillers kicked in. Robotic arms began ladling healing goop over the burned areas of his skin.

“How’s it going with Paradox?” Chemestro hazarded being a little nosey. It was wildly out of character for him, but Four sixty-two had just done a bunch of morphine. Chemestro was willing to bet his brother wouldn’t notice.

“How does it look like it’s going?” Four sixty-two groused as his body relaxed into the bed, rapidly falling asleep.

Excellent. I couldn’t have asked for a more ideal distraction for Father.

***Paradox***

Perry sprinted away from the door, wrapping the purloined lab coat around the hole in his shoulder.

Thankfully, Perry’s body was so stuffed to the gills with endorphins that the wound gave him little more than an itching sensation, but it wasn’t going to stay that way for long.

Perry took a left, then a right, passed a few halls then took another left. Above him was a blue LED sticking out of the wall, glowing a constant, eye-catching blue.

It’s not a red light, so it’s probably not something dangerous, Perry thought as he ran. Maybe it’s a supply closet, or better yet a vehicle bay. I could hotwire a jet with my eyes closed.

Nope. Instead Perry ran face first into himself. The back of himself, anyway.

Unless there was some other young man with a bloody lab coat wrapped around his shoulder standing around in the middle of the hallway like an idiot.

Perry tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs before he leapt to his feet, carefully scanning the hallway for whatever the hell had hit him.

A moment later something slammed into his back, sending him reeling forward.

...I was the one standing in the hall like an idiot.

Okay...Neuron’s lair has got some fuckery going on.

I see you’ve run into a blue zone,Neuron’s voice began to vibrate from the very walls. Originally I was going to watch you run yourself to death, but this is more amusing.

Perry began walking forward, heart hammering.

What happens when beings of godlike power dream?Neuron asked over the intercom. I suspect you’re about to find out.

Perry felt a slight tugging sensation, then the hallway was filled with a solid line of Perrys, like he was standing between two mirrors.

The frontmost figure turned around, then the second one flinched back. The third was knocked backwards and the fourth reached out to stabilize him.

Then the figures faded away. Black holes are theorized to have similar effects...except I’m not getting spaghettified.

“There’s some kind of time shenanigans going on,” Perry murmured, glancing behind himself.

Behind him was a copy of himself, whose eyes widened at Perry’s independent movement, flinching backward into the one behind him.

“It’s cool, dude,” Perry said, making the manitian gesture of peace to his doppleganger.

A moment later the doppleganger’s faded.

So some kind of spacetime stretching. And it seems to wobble back and forth, judging by the way I find myself at the beginning and end of the line of dopplegangers.

“I found it decades ago, shortly after the first High Tide, and I built an empire on top of it. In its sleep, it breathes. It inhales and exhales like you or me, but whatit exhales warps the fabric of reality.”

BOOM!

Perry whipped around and saw that the hallway behind him had closed off.

“Let me give you the tour.”Neuron said. “We’ll see how long you can stay alive.”