Ding!
[ "A more helpful System!" has been purchased! ]
[ System Assistant Unlocked! ]
[ CHAT Menu Unlocked! ]
[ "1 Random Skill" has been purchased!]
[ Select the highlighted window in the SKILLS Menu to Unlock it!]
And then —
Ding!
[ Hello =) ]
Okay, he really, really should have expected something like this.
Fun — Yeah, System, please, do exactly what Carter had been afraid you'd do and show physical evidence of a present active consciousness capable of communication and therefore of ruminating. That won't cost him sleep at all, no sir.
"Hi," he replied softly, taking in a deep breath as the Phoenix Water seemed to drain into the metal tube, giving him access to previous air again. Something caught in his throat, and he suddenly found himself violently coughing — his lungs suddenly hurt, and he had the brief thoughts of, "Oh, It's like I'm drowning!" before he realized that his lungs were full of water and he was absolutely drowning.
Thankfully, he managed to expel all of the liquid through aggressive coughing, though his throat felt coarse after the fact. He was left with a single question — who designed this thing? Some sort of genius doctor with a Sadomasochistic fetish? Geez.
Ding!
[ Probably. ]
"Oh, this is going to get old really fast." He muttered softly. A pause, and then —
Ding!
[Bell Notification disabled!]
[CHAT Disabled! Come by the Menu if you'd like to talk later!]
Well.
That was dealt with. Through very, very ominous means, but at this point, he'd take what he could get and worry about the increasingly high changes of his body being hijacked later.
For now — he stepped out of the metal tube/Bacta Tank thing. His clothes were dripping wet, unfortunately, and he immediately felt considerably more chilly than he was comfortable feeling.
He absentmindedly rubbed his hands against the fabric that covered his arms in a feeble attempt to get warm.
Well.
No matter.
"Skills," he uttered.
[SKILLS:]
[ Dash: 5 MP/Second]
[ Steel Swipe: 10 MP ]
[ Random Skill ] (!)
[???] (Q)
[ Leap ] (1)
[ Encroach ] (1)
[???] (3)
[???] (3)
[You have (2) Skill Points Remaining.]
— As expected, "Random Skill" was highlighted in a mess of rainbow colours. He pressed the button.
Ding!
[You have chosen to roll a Random Skill!]
[Would you like to limit it by level?]
[WARNING: There is no guarantee you will be able to use a non-level limited Skill acquired. Gamble at your own risk!]
Well, fuckity fuckles with a fuck-berry on top.
"Yes," he replied, fighting back another wage of existential horror. "Limit it by level, please."
— Ding!
[ Skill Rolled! Congratulations! You got: ]
[ Chromatic Orb : 45 MP ]
[You create and hurl a sphere of energy at a creature that you can see. You can choose between cold, fire, lightning, poison, or water for the type of orb you create while you are forming it, and when you do, apply affinity bonuses to the created attack.]
Alright, cool. He could do magic now. In other news, we should all fear for our lives, the apocalypse is coming, we should all bow down to our video game overlords. All our bases belong to them. I - Listen. If Carter's confusion and descending dread sounds weird to you, let me make it very clear that this isn't how magic is supposed to work - Magic was, BY DEFINITION, exploiting loopholes in the [ System ] Structure to use one's Divine Spark in varied ways. It takes years, YEARS, of continuous study and meditation for someone to properly grasp a truly magical skill, as opposed to things that simply look magical but fit within a given System.
For example, imagine this - A person is born with a conflict-based, fire-type emitting [ System ]. For that person, who has an entire System designed around the idea of "expelling fire and growing in conflict", developing a Skill named "Fireball" would be a simple endeavour. They would simply guide their own inner Spark towards it, whether their System presented them with the Skill or they discovered it for themselves and it was then added to the System.
For that same person to use a skill of, say, water magic, would normally be impossible - and that impossibility is called Magic. Magic is, by definition, exploiting or dodging System requirements - One must meditate and study until controlling their spark, which Carter couldn't even feel yet, felt as natural as breathing or moving an arm. And then they would have to manually convert it against their own natural tendencies, mentally envision the way the energy would need to behave to replicate the effects they want it to, and bingo, that's Magic.
- Carter's System, so far, seemed to dodge everything it should adhere to. Video Game-like Systems weren't unheard of, but that was a structural thing, not a foundational aspect of its core functioning. He had interpreted it as a "Conflict"-based, "Self-Improvement" System - meaning, he would grow with conflict in a direction of direct Self-Improvement, as in cultivating the characteristics he already possessed.
TLDR, Carter was a damn fool. He shouldn't have had hope. They'd been doomed from the start. In other news, Carter was something of a drama queen.
When he approached the Captain a few minutes later, he was damp, irritated, existentially challenged, and really, really felt like crying in a corner somewhere. Halt seemed to find it all incredibly amusing, which, you know, of course he did.
"Better damp than broken," he said simply, and Carter glowered, arms crossed over his chest.
"You couldn't have warned me?"
"I could have," Halt admitted, "but I enjoy seeing you suffer. Now, come."
He pressed his hand to the wall next to one of the metallic doors that lined the glossy walls, and with a low hum it opened in something of a spiral pattern, retracting into the walls around it one layer at a time. Carter couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at it - it looked somewhat overdesigned, but damn if it hadn't looked cool.
As for what laid inside… A woman in a tube not unlike the one he had been in. Completely submerged in a strange light blue substance that looked like it was somewhat thick, like ooze, the woman looked completely out of it. Her eyes, though open, were completely glazed over in a sign of her obvious unconsciousness, and her hair seemed to aimlessly float; thick locks of strong orange following her soft bobbing.
There was a name plate in the tube - Amara Greenfield. It was followed by a number, 22, which looked to be her age.
"So... " It was hard not to sound awkward. "She's the one you want me to, ah, interrogate?"
"Mhm." Halt agreed, approaching the structure to inspect it closely. "Miss Amara. She's aged well, though I suppose that is to be expected."
And wasn't that just an odd comment to make? That implied time, which in turn implied… Huh.
"... I thought you said you'd captured her recently in The Rift?" He questioned.
Halt shook his head, an amused smile on his lips.
"I told you we'd captured her in The Rift. Not even once did I say it was recent."
"But you implied it," Carter spoke. Halt nodded.
"I did. And you failed to question it. Clearly, you've much to learn, boy."