A Hero's Awakening

[Magnus Might]

It was a fine summer’s day. Bright sun, warm with a cool breeze, moderate-low humidity - anyone else would be out basking in the day. A man of Doctor Lee’s age should be sitting on his covered porch, rocking gently and watching the youngsters run by, laughing and playing on this perfect afternoon.

Sadly, watching the youth play their games of make believe and small talk with the neighbors would have to wait till another day. Doctor Lee sat on his wheeled stool, staring at an inert puddle of gray-black. The room around him was a mess of it, as if someone had dropped a cherry bomb into the mess and let it splatter.

The lump of gray ooze hummed with oscillating pitch and intensity. One moment it was almost grating on Lee’s ears, the next it was gentle and almost comforting. The surface rippled with each change in sound. “Hmm. Promising…”

His words hung in the air for a moment. The doctor’s eyes and ears were scrutinizing every scrap of information, listening for distinct patterns. Every now and then he would turn his attention to a laptop at his desk. To one side of the screen was a three-dimensional rendering of a body. To the left was a mile and a half long block of code. Slowly but surely, he was fleshing out these pesky bugs.

Scrolling… scrolling… scrolling… “It has to be with the visual idle animation… Blinking… Breathing… Weight shift--” Thump. His hand flopped in frustration. “Of course.”

The sardonic sigh that escaped was accompanied by a backspace, removing a colon, and the addition of a semicolon. “Of course…” He clicked the Save and Run task button.

Sure enough, even before his eyes shifted from screen to ooze, the semi-random patterns were coalescing into unified motion. Splotches began sliding down the walls and across the floor to constitute a single mass. It rose up and took shape.

It was less than a minute before the final result was standing before him. The gray-ooze shifted the light spectrum to change coloration. It had arranged itself according to the three-dimensional rendering. The final result was a young man, looking much as Lee did in his younger years - with the exception of a few less pimples he had at that age.

“Program Magnus Might version One-Zero-Zero initializing. Hello, Doctor Aiden Lee, PhD.”

The poor old man almost lept out of his chair, only stopping when he remembered how his last “jump for joy” turned out. No need to throw out his back again. “Splendid! Alright, my boy, let’s go for a test spin!” The old man was already turning to pluck his Full-Immersion Gaming System - his FIGS off the desk.

The gray-ooze android stepped in just as Lee was placing it upon his brow, pulling away the device. “I cannot allow that. Protocol states you must be in a prone position, to avoid risk of injury during immersion. In addition, the initial link may exceed the battery capacity of your F.I.G. System. An external power source would be optimal according to the FIGS User Manual written by Doctor Aiden Lee, PhD.

“Don’t quote me on my own work, I know.” He would not admit to the basic artificial intelligence that he had almost gone against both statements in a fit of excitement. “Come then, help me to the couch.”

Magnus’ hand moved from Doctor Lee’s headgear to rest beneath his arm. The lift was gentle and the way the magnetite ooze shifted felt oddly skin-like: a little soft at first, then something with a bit more density. Once up, Lee leaned on Magnus’ shoulder for support on the short shuffle over to the couch.

“Doctor Aiden Lee, PhD, you should also consider emptying your bladder and subsequently hydrating if you intend to enter Full-Immersion for an extended period.”

The A.I. clearly had impeccable timing, because even as the suggestion finished, Lee had already groaned his way down onto the couch. In retrospect, Doctor Lee had spent hardly any time on the A.I. - doing little more than scrapping components together from a few previous projects. “I’ll be fine, my boy.”

“Acknowledged. Please enjoy your immersion, Doctor Aiden Lee, PhD.”

“Just Aiden.”

“Acknowledged. Please enjoy your immersion, Just Aiden, PhD.”

Rush job really shows, Lee scolded himself. The senior stretched out and stuffed a cushion beneath his head and under his knees for comfort. With his headset on, Doctor Lee had barely closed his eyes before a weight appeared on his chest.

When his eyes opened, he was staring down at the gray-and-white feline from a meter away. He did not feel the pressure of the cat upon his chest, nor the aching of his old bones. It was odd, seeing himself laying comatose on the couch. The purring feline laid upon his chest was already dozing off, as if this were just an afternoon nap.

All in all, Lee was happy with the result. He could feel the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan tussle his hair, the solidity of the floor under his feet and a simulated sensation of muscle tension with every movement. It felt as if he were breathing and blinking like normal, despite being a mere idle animation.

“Doctor, you’ve done it again,” he just could not resist complimenting himself. In his new body, Lee took a few steps over to a mirror placed just for this occasion. Looking at himself some sixty years younger brought a sense of euphoria and nostalgia. True to human nature, a bright grin spread across his youthful features. “Looking good, Aiden!” Hesitation followed his self-praise. “Hmm. Not Aiden… Magnus. That will take some time to get used to.”

If he was going to portray a heroic character with a new name, he had to stick to the part. “Salutations! I’m Aid--” Dagnabbit! “I’m Magnus Might!”

“Hello there, name’s Magnus! You can call me Maggy for --” An immediate cringe came across his youthful features. “Maggy? Seriously? That’s an unfortunate nickname. Might?” No, that’s just being pretentious…

Nicknames can come later. For now, “time to get out there and explore!” With a little skip to his step, Magnus made his way to the front door of his - well, of Aiden’s abode. Stepping out into the sunlight, he expected the bright light to sting his eyes, but… nothing. The automatic adjustment was almost jarring.

The smell of the sea always lifted his spirits, not that he needed it. Despite being clothed, Magnus felt almost naked to the breeze on this hot summer’s day. Seems the built-in clothing will need a sensitivity patch later. Regardless, he walked down the quaint stone path between Aiden’s hobby-garden towards a little wooden bench at the edge of the floating island.

“Get ready, Opaelon!” Aiden shouted with a broad grin and arms spread wide. “Your first!” Despite having retired to this little island some years ago, he had never taken it upon himself to really explore the world around him - nor below.

“Kowabunga!” Just the slightest hop… and down he goes. Plummeting off the floating island, the fearless Magnus Might dropped like a rock. “Time to test the faaaaalll damaaaage!” The little singsong marked his descent with glee.

Just a few moments later, the sound of rushing wind was ended by a heavy, wet SMACK of gray-goo meeting the unending sea.

 

[Magnus Might]

Somewhere on the way down, with the wind rushing past his ears and his sweater flapping about wildly, Magnus had a troubling thought. This is reality… Why am I testing fall damage in reality?

The sharp impact of the water felt like a truck at mach nine plowing through him. Vision blurred, his sensation of touch went wild. His mind became a flurry of thoughts, memories, and inconsistent sensations…

And then all was fine. The newborn Magnus floated atop the water, eyes wide. The entirety of his body had splattered, diffused into the water for a moment, then recombobulated once all the bits were drawn magnetically back together. The cloud connection had not been lost, but the white noise induced an odd wave of neural stimulation he just had not been ready for.

“Woah…” It was all he could think of to express the sensation. Once his senses returned, he managed a solid, coherent thought. No fall damage, apparently. Or at least, his body simply naturally recovered from it without significant loss. That bore proper inspection at a later date.

Looking to the left… then looking to the right… a glance upwards, and downwards to his prone position... in the four cardinal directions, he saw nothing. Open water with nothing but horizon and dots of shade from sparsely spaced islands floating in the sky.

“You know what?” He questioned the open air. “Would have been smart to throw a rope down or something. Maybe he should have invested in a boat? Something. For now, Magnus had no choice but to backstroke through the water.

“Well. I can’t die of hunger… Can’t dehydrate… Feel like I just wasted so much on this body and dumped it out like trash.” He was speaking to no one but himself. Considering he had no one but himself to talk to, it was all he could do to express the immediate regret.

However, his mind immediately began to wonder. Hmm. Could swim down, hitch a ride on a whale or something. Maybe a shark? Perhaps… His thoughts continued on. From the potential of riding wild aquatic beasts to perhaps running into danger - fending off monsters of the deep - and to potential pirates coming to pick him up for nefarious purposes.

## Warning, arcano-magnetic animation sequencer reserve rapidly depleting.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Low stamina.” The arcano-magnetic animation sequencer reserve was a big fancy way of describing the enchantment that simply fluctuated internal magnetism to enable motion. In retrospect, should have given that a more interesting name…

With a sigh, his arms and legs relaxed. While he doubted this body would feel the pain of over-exertion, Magnus knew that if he were no longer able to animate, this body would simply become a T-posing Magnus statue. Next patch, I’m going to need to speed things up and bump stamina, for sure.

“Ahh… Guess I should log off and tend to those patches now.” With a little sigh, his hands rose to his head and lifted off an imaginary hat.

With a slight hum, the consciousness of Doctor Lee lost connection to the body of Magnus Might. The rudimentary AI had no orders to follow, and its creator was not present to command it. So it floated there… waiting patiently, staring lifelessly at the sky.

 

[Magnus Might]

The action of removing a hat as Magnus Might was one keyed into every FIG System. Aiden’s real hands had risen with the same motion to remove his gear. From staring at the evening sky and the first stars to the dark ceiling of his den would have been unsettling early in his career. Now? It felt like just another day of gaming.

He had half expected to find his old friend laying upon his chest, but not this time around. With a groan of pain from old creaking bones, he sat up slowly and moved his legs off the edge of the couch. Sure enough, every joint had gone stiff from the hours spent laying down.

At least he felt mentally refreshed. FIGS had long since incorporated a neural-rejuvenation capacity, similar to maintaining REM sleep. Useful, considering he knew exactly what was coming.

“Ehhh… Bladder, breakfast, work…” He made that statement out loud as if promising the cosmos that was the plan.

After struggling to his feet and making his way to the handy cane propped near his desk, Aiden made his way to the restroom. Phase one complete. Phase two, breakfast. Too sore to cook, he settled on a bowl of cereal. Phase two complete.

It was when he sat back at his desk that the promise began to crumble. A notification for one of his online games had appeared in the corner of his computer screen.

Your guild has been sieged. A response is scheduled at Nine Thirty P.M.”

“Oh, that’s not going to fly.” A glance at the clock revealed he had just under an hour. Muscle memory opened the game as his train of thought entered competitive mode. Sixty pots, at least, need to re-up on spell runes. I Hope Bigsly12 has some Fire Wyrm ash saved up.

Aiden had made a promise to the universe, but luckily the universe was not keeping track.


It was almost two hours before the counter siege had come to an end. Aiden leaned back in his chair with a happy sigh. “Aaaaaanother victory for the guild - as usual! That should teach them: no one messes with my crew.”

“Well… I think I’m going to play some -- OhnoIforgotaboutMagnus!” The sudden dawning of the lost time struck Aiden like lightning. The old man leaned forward fast enough to crack his back for a mix of pain and relief. “Ahhh, snickerdoodles, what was I doing? Patch, right?”

No one was there to confirm. At some point Aiden was aware he spoke to himself, to keep himself on track or to think through a problem. Sometimes it even worked. “Okay, alright, so… Clothing sensitivity! That’s going to need a whole new parameter… Jeez, did I even do skin and clothing as layers?”

It was at this moment, Aiden realized the night he was in for… “I didn’t. Just… rendered right over the skin. Good going, Doctor. Your shirt fuses to your flesh wherever it touches. Sensitivity through artificial wool has never been so flawlessly flawed.”

To kick this project off, Doctor Lee did a smart thing and began work and backed up the Magnus project, and then created a duplicate just to work with. There was no way he would accidentally mess this up - or so he hoped.

Opening the renderer, he duplicated Magnus’ body. He deleted the clothing from one, leaving naught but a fit ken-doll in a T-pose. The duplicate was duplicated a few times. Each time he separated a visual element - the sweater, the shoes, and the pants now existed in a separate file.

In the renderer, they were layered nicely and neatly. In Figgy Pudding, the software, the renderer output only registered the outermost layer. “Uuuuuuuughh…” The audible groan rolled through the empty house.

The little jingle of a bell announced the approach of his old friend. “Coming to visit? Luuumii!” The coaxing worked, as the jingling bell rounded the corner. Of course it was attached to a white and gray feline well up there in years. Lumi padded slowly over to his chair, did her usual stretch-and-claw routine on the side of it, then scaled up and into his lap.

The old power-lift recliner he used for his office showed years of wear and tear from Lumi’s routine, but he would never get rid of it or teach her otherwise. Not that he needed to, she had not used her claws on him since her early kitten stage. “Hey Lumi, how are you? Coming to visit, or are you--”

“Food?” The collar around the cat’s neck chimed while she softly meowed at her owner.

“Ahh, hungry?” Aiden smiled at his old friend. A simple creature with simple needs.

”Come!” The feline turned tail and hopped back down from Aiden’s lap. There was a little chirp-grunt and the collar simultaneously chimed ”Oof!”

Aiden groaned as he rose to his feet again, leaving the project for a moment. As Lumi padded towards the kitchen, she would often turn back to make sure he followed. ”Come!” She meowed and the voice box chimed each time.

“I’m coming, girl. Papa’s legs are hurting.”

The little neutral interface on her collar was simple. A little arcano-technology simply translated excited pathways - her desires - into speech. A nifty little device that he had never been able to bring to the market. The programming for one cat never seemed to work for another. Despite the failed project, it worked for Lumi and that was the only silver lining he needed.

”Food!” Lumi was already stretching up, paws reaching high on the shelves beneath the counter.

“Hold your horses, darling, I’m coming!” Despite her years, she still had a swifter stride on four legs than Aiden on three.

A can of shredded wet food was taken from the cabinet and opened nice and slow. Lumi spun in circles around her bowl, peering up every half-second. By the time he was bending down, she had found herself a place to sit and wait for the wet plop.

”Love!”

“I love you too, Lumi.” He gave Lumi’s neck a little stroke while he was bent over before struggling his way back up. “Really need to get you a ramp to the counter, girl. All this bending might have me down there with you.”

She, of course, paid no attention. Her collar and her voice were both audibly humming a happy “Nnnomnomnom” as she ate. No doubt she would be passed out in ten minutes, give or take a trip to the litter box.

With a happy grin, Aiden returned to his desk, hobbling along on his cane. “Alright… Back to work… Just have to make layers with different sensory properties... Shouldn’t be too hard, right? I bet we can knock this out in an hour.”

Perhaps the universe had listened to his promise earlier - and decided to punish him for breaking it. He could not, in fact, finish the patch in just an hour.

In the end, he decided to keep the sensitivity on each item, but make it a separate “sensation.” The unique ability to feel through clothing might be useful down the road. The various other little tweaks and the overly complicated approach meant he had to go back and clean up various bits of code, then import all the renders and assign them a layer.

By the time Aiden finished, his office had brightened with the first rays of dawn peering in through the windows.

Lumi was snuggled up on his lap, as she had been for a few hours at that point, sawing logs with the occasional bout of purring.

“I hate to do this to you girl, but we’re about to move over to the couch.” It was time for some mental rest - meaning a delve into the body of Magnus Might.

Lumi yawned and stretched when prodded, but eventually yielded her position so Aiden could hobble about. Bathroom first, then couch. Before he sat, he had the brilliant idea to take the headset to bed. “Yes, Doctor, it would be a good idea to sleep on your expensive bed - designed specifically for your back and knee problems.” The doctor bit was more of a jab at himself. He could have done this the first time around, instead of just plopping on the nearest couch.

“Luumii, want to go to bed?” He called out as he lowered onto the expensive cloud of comfort.

”Bed!” The collar chimed from just around the corner. Lumi was quick to climb the little carpeted stairs and nestle on an overstuffed, soft, and fuzzy pillow next to Aiden’s. ”Bed!”

Aiden nestled down in his own spot, headgear placed upon his brow and closed his eyes. “Good girl. Goodnight, Lumi.”

”Love!”

“Love y--” Aiden was not able to finish the statement. The Delve once again put his body in a comatose state and induced a mock REM sleep. An instant later, he was back to staring at the sky from the sea far below as Magnus Might.

 

[Magnus Might]

It had been a little over nine hours since Aiden’s mind had left the body of Magnus. When his eyes opened again, he saw a drastic change. Dusk had become dawn and the waves were a bit more choppy. Dark clouds loomed in the distance and the wind had picked up. The faint flashes from the dark thunderheads announced violent weather on the approach.

“D’aww, snickerdoodles…” Magnus was still floating on his back in the water, but the wind-tossed ripples were consistently throwing the salty water into his eyes. While his eyes were artificial, the distortion of vision and the need to blink and rub away the water was only his first annoyance. Should be fun, getting tossed about like a rag doll. The thought dripped with internalized sarcasm.

Staring at the storm and listening to the omnipresent ambiance of wind and waves, Magnus was almost jarred back to reality when a new sound arose. The waves crashing against something, and an ominous creaking.

Dropping his legs back down into the water beneath him, his gaze fell onto a distant ship. Its sails were drawn, but its anchor was up letting it drift at the whimsy of the waves. There looked to be no motion on the top deck, but Magnus attributed that to the poor vantage point.

“Wooh!” Luck must have been on Magnus’ side. He began swimming in close, expecting to be spotted when one of the crew inevitably looks overboard…

Any second now…

Almost there, surely someone would spot him…

In the twenty minutes of slow, arduous swimming, he had spotted no one walking close to the edge. The windows were equally as still.

Ports, not windows, Magnus mentally noted, correcting his analytical thoughts with what little he knew of ships. His knowledge of the sea was limited. He, as Aiden Lee, retired to Opaelon for the view and privacy, rather than the sea life.

He slapped a hand onto the side of the ship a few times. “HEY UP THERE!” Nothing… Not a peep. Even this close, he could not hear the sound of footsteps. “Oooohhh! Abandoned, are we? Nice! Mine!” Magnus found that silver lining. Sure, a storm was approaching, but now he could sit in the crow's nest and yell at it, like something out of a movie.

That is… when he figured out how to climb up this thing. It took a moment of searching, but he did eventually find a ladder up. Well, most of the ladder. Every few rungs were missing, meaning the hardcore gamer had to pull out those parkour skills - of which he had implemented zero into this body.

By the time he was at the top, he was receiving a familiar sensation of stiffness.

## Warning, arcano-magnetic animation sequencer reserve rapidly depleting.

Right… Exhaustion.

Magnus parked his rear on the banister lining the lower-top deck. What was this section called? Is poop-deck a real thing? Whatever it was, it looked like a mess. Various odds and ends were scattered by the tossing of the ship. Several ropes were uncoiled, various tools, a cannonball was rolling about.

This mess was to be expected. What was more worrying came in the form of the wood’s decor. Bloodstains, both pools and splatter patterns, had turned a dark russet across a majority of the deck.

“Well, that’s a little disconcerting.” Others may see the signs of a bloodbath on an empty ship and fear for their lives. Magnus was not. Should he die, he would simply be rebuilt. Instead, Magnus saw this as a little side-quest. Mission acquired; clear out the ship of monsters. The thought was amusing. Even real-life could feel like a videogame at times.

Relaxing against the banister, with his own words being the only sound outside of the sea, Magnus had to wonder if anything was still aboard this ship. It was deathly quiet.

“Well, there’s no time like the present!” With a little pat of his knees, Magnus lifted himself off the banner and made his way to a door. Seeing as how he heard nothing from the upper deck and saw no movement even as he approached, going down seemed like the better option.

The door was not locked, but as Magnus pulled it, it did not seem to fit right on its hinges. Stylized doorknobs. Weird. Regardless, the man peered down, still holding onto the knob in case he had to slam it shut. The room was empty of life. There were no stairs, and with the lavish desk, bookshelves and bed… this seemed to be the captain’s quarters. That explained the knob at least.

Nothing here, he determined before closing the door. The walk across the lower deck - the poop deck? - to the other was done in relative silence. The tapping of his feat was a nice rhythm alongside the gusting winds and waves breaking against the ship.

His stride stopped when he reached the other elevated deck, and the door between floors. Magnus’ jaw tensed and his skin crawled as he heard his footsteps thrice more before falling in silence. Magnus had stopped… something beneath him had kept tapping along with his stride.

Ooookay! Not alone here. Whatever it was, it had to be close, probably right at the end of the stairs below him.

With a fist ready to strike, the other hand quickly opened the door. Again he found nothing of interest within, save for a few bloodstained cots and a flight of stairs heading down. The room was darker than Magnus anticipated, but a quick glance at the portholes would explain why. Most of them were coated in dried blood, along with a majority of the walls.

Whatever was here must have gotten the drop on the sleeping sailors. As his many years as a gamer, he could easily surmise this creature must be stealthy. No roaring at nothing like in the overly flashy action movies. Whatever it was, it already knew Magnus was here. The tapping had made that painfully clear.

Maybe it’s smart? Trying to frighten me? That thought made Magnus smirk. Having dabbled in the horror genre of games, he was numb to the scare tactics. Creepy sounds acted as a warning, not a deterrent. Something was here, and he had to be ready to act. Simple as that.

Down the stairs Magnus went, stepping lightly and listening carefully. Sure enough, he could hear a subtle secondary tapping a few steps in. As he stopped halfway down, it tapped only once more this time. Magnus stepped a few more times but stopped as soon as that tapping began. Twice more it tapped before its source caught on and went quiet as well.

Hehe, it’s trying to be stealthy! Magnus decided to be a royal pain. The rest of the stairs were taken with uneven steps. Two quick steps were followed by a pause, then a single step, then three quick steps and a pause, and finally two slow steps… The tapping had started but quickly tapered off once its source realized the uneven and unpredictable pattern. Semi-smart, at least.

With three more steps, he would stand at the bottom of the stairs. The small landing had a door and a few barrels but was otherwise quite cramped and small. The half-inch of liquid at the bottom felt far too thick to be water. Gross. Luckily, it was far too dark to really see what he was stepping in. Muddy water, he told himself.

Pushing it out of his mind, he made his way to the door, which he could tell apart from the wall only by the slight reflection of the metal doorknob from the sparse light above. Whatever was tapping… should be right on the other side of the door…

Magnus gave himself a three-count, readying to strike before swinging the door open. He barreled in, ready to throw a haymaker at the first thing he saw. Of course, with sunlight shining in from the portholes, he had a second thought. The first thing he saw in his path was a large wooden crate.

Frankly, he should have expected it - along with all the other crates scattered about. Of course, a ship has cargo. That did not make the scene before him any less bothersome. The boxes were either large enough to obscure vision or were stacked high enough to do so. The number of hiding locations meant searching would be an absolute pain in the butt.

With a mental sigh, Magnus gave the large box in front of him a dishearted kick. If this body had a heartbeat, it would have skipped one. His shoe clung to the wooden box for no apparent reason.

“Ahh, snickerdoodles.” Widened eyes watched as a seam appeared across the shipping crate’s surface, dividing it in half before splitting open to reveal a maw of jagged teeth. “Roll for initiative?”

 

[Magnus Might]

Magnus watched with disembodied interest at the intimidating display. Jagged teeth and tendril tongues aplenty looked easily capable of biting a human in half and dragging each portion into the beast’s gut with effortless gusto. He imagined many adventurers would begin to panic with their foot attached to such a creature…

“Save it, I’m made of metal.” The creature of metal and magic stated simply. “I guarantee I’m not edible.” Magnus tugged at his foot, but the mimic did not give it up so easily. Its show went on. A tendril wrapped around Magnus’ wrist. As soon as it squeezed, the slimy appendage released.

The many tongue-like tentacles slurped wetly back into the jagged maw and the box slammed shut. “Bet that tasted great, ‘bout like trying to chomp on a fully armored paladin… except that’s me all the way through. Now, let my foot go, or I’m going to start swinging.”

“Hhhossttage…” The drawn out word uttered through jagged teeth was a wet baritone, as grotesque as the inside of this beast looked.

The adventurer raised a closed fist, poised to strike. “Just me. No one’s coming. Now that I know you’re sentient, this is your last chance.”

A wet gurgle escaped the box. “Hhannd ssshtick tooo!” the monster exclaimed. This creature is very proud of itself, Magnus surmised. He assumed this beast had single handedly slaughtered and eaten the crew, explaining the utter lack of bodies.

Magnus lowered his hand and with a quick heave, he pulled his foot off of the beast with a bit of effort. He felt a sensation akin to pain, but not; the artificial body’s way of saying it had taken damage. For a moment, silvery surface was exposed before reshaping and recoloring to mimic his leather shoe. “Like I said, I’m built different.”

The gurgle returned as the box slowly lifted. With a glance down, Magnus saw the numerous chitinous peg-feet that had grown beneath the box, like some disorganized centipede. “Look, I’m new to this hero thing, buuuut… I know that killing a ship’s entire crew most likely makes you a monster. But you are sentient, sooo… Tell me; did you have a good reason?” Magnus asked, even if his voice was laced with doubt of a positive answer.

The mimic seemed to hesitate. It at least knows fear, Magnus noted. But now… will it try to lie?

“Killl no onnne,” the mimic clearly fibbed. Its mass of tentacle-tongues squirmed within its maw, fidgeting like a bad gambler at a high stakes table.

Magnus cocked a brow and canted his head. “Oh?” He mused. “Then where did all the blood come from?”

“Hhhheere… when… arrr… arrrivvve…”

“How did you get on the ship? Whole planet is nothing but ocean. Where’d you come from?” The gamer quickly countered. The flurry of questions was designed to overwhelm the lying simpleton. The long pause that followed showed it clearly worked.

Magnus was a moment from engaging combat when the beast’s boxy maw threw itself open and lashed out with three slimy tentacles. They each struck across his body, battering the do-gooder a few paces away and to his backside. “Dieee mmeetall mmmann!” The box moved with a myriad of clicking legs in an attempt to overrun said ‘metal man.’

The hero braced his hands on the floor to either side of his head and reared a foot. With an instinctive grunt, he thrust his foot down against the bottom jaw of the mimic. Despite his years of gaming, and the numerous virtual fights against mimics, he was not prepared for the sickening crunch of splintering pseudo-wood giving way to pulsating, fleshy, gray innards.

A deep wail escaped the mimic as it recoiled backward. The adhesive of its jaw still kept Magnus firmly attached, even as it scuttled backwards. Tongues changed tactics from battering to grabbing, wrapping themselves firmly around the leg nigh glued to its broken ‘face.’

“Oh, no you don’t!” Magnus heaved another battle cry to bring down his other foot. Mass shifted from his upper body to bring dense weight to the dropping ax-kick. His heel crumpled the wood beneath it, splintering the would-be flesh and giving way to more of the sickly gore held within. The splattering of dull red ichor painted the floor and Magnus’ shoes and pants.

Another pained cry radiated from the monster before the adhesive on both feet released its hold. The mimic scuttled backward more, but its movements were slow and its tongues weakly lashed at the air in futile defense. “Nooooo! Mettallll mannn gooo! M-mmetalll mmann gooo!”

Magnus could see the victory like a checkered flag at the end of a sprint. This poor thing was not all that strong; clearly when deprived of stealth and sleeping victims, it had little else going for it. The man heaved a sigh as he rolled forward to his feet. “You’re just a young one, aren’t ya? I’m sorry… but I can’t leave you for someone else to stumble across.”

The hero began his solemn approach towards the cowed aberration. His hands curled to tight fists as the arcant nanomachines shifted density towards them; a preparation for a finishing blow.

“Nno eats! B-be goood! Nooo eatss!” It pained Magnus to hear the desperate begging of a sentient creature seeking to preserve its life. However, this creature had slaughtered no less than a dozen lives on this ship alone. It had to be stopped.

The heavy clunk of mimic arse hitting the inner hull of the ship cornered the poor beast. The up-and-coming hero stopped just out of tongue’s reach. “Game over.” Timed just right, He threw a fist at one of the tongues to brutally sever it from the base. The next came down in the broken shell, right where his heel had been a moment before. His fist sank into the soft, spongy goop within.

After one final gurgle, the mimic grew still…

And to the victor go the spoils, Magnus thought to himself. With great care, he uncurled the fist within the corpse and withdrew his hand. His gaze turned to the vessel around him with a triumphant grin. Except… he had no idea how to operate this thing.

“Ahh, fiddlesticks…”

 

[Magnus Might]

Magnus spent the better part of an hour on the deck, looking over the various ropes and the large steering wheel - the helm, Magnus mentally corrected himself. A few pirate-themed videogames had taught him a few terms. However, he had a heavy suspicion that manning a vessel of this size on his own was not only impossible, but foolish to even attempt. Trying to pilot this behemoth during a storm would be a waste of energy.

With a heavy sigh, Magnus brought his hands to his brow and lifted off an imaginary headgear. A light beeping radiated across his body as the mind if Aiden Lee withdrew.

“Autopilot engaged.” The artificial intelligence slowly blinked; left eye, then the other. The AI turned the head of Magnus Might left, then right, to scope out the new environment it had ‘awoken’ to. As last time, it had no standing orders. Unlike before, this was not an environment of vast nothingness.

It had recollection of Magnus’ actions while under Aiden’s control. It began extrapolating relevant bits of information and stringing together a vague series of tasks.

“Dr. Aiden Lee, PhD. was cleaning the vessel of hostile entities. No on-board combat programming detected.

“Dr. Aiden Lee, PhD. desired manning the vessel. Referencing…. Referencing… Reference completed. Vessel type; schooner. Operators required; four. Optimum efficiency operators; six. Mechanical Automation potential; limited via resources. Magical Automation potential…. Limited via unprecedented data.”

The monologue occurred while the intelligence peered around at the ship’s top deck. “No suitable actions available. Maintenance protocol initiated.” Eyes lock onto one of the cannons. AI-Magnus moved in with a slow, choreographed stride driven by walking animation. Each step was precise.

He -- or rather, it placed a hand upon the cannon. The palm softened, spreading into more of a puddled shape across the blackened iron. Slowly, ever so slowly, the surface would be eroded as the hand stripped layers of iron. The damage from the previous fight meant a loss in functioning arcanotech nanomachines. The artificial intelligence would slowly mend this loss mass by eating away at nearby iron.

It was a long, slow, arduous process… but someone -- or rather -- something had to do it.

 

[Magnus Might]

Dr. Lee blinked back to reality -- well, the reality where his bones ached. He heaved a heavy sigh and sat up on the edge of his bed, bones creaking despite the chiropractor-approved comfort he rose from. He gave a heave, but failed to rise to his feet. “Ahh, snickerdoodles…” With a disappointed shake of his head, he reached out for the cane beside his bed for assistance.

Up and at ‘em once again, the good doctor made his way to the bathroom to relieve his bladder, then moved on to his computer. “Ahh, Magnus,” he grumbled. Eyes still bleary, he peered at the screen. The AI in charge was repairing the body from a cannon. Quite resourceful, he mused. Lee promised himself he would eventually work on the AI, give it an expanded list of tasks to take care of when in charge… but for now it seemed fine. Just run from danger and repair.

It did not take long before he started contemplating the first fight as Magnus Might. It was… ridiculous. All brute force, no tact. No defense either. The more he mulled over the shortcomings, the more he realized he had never configured the body for combat. It could shift mass to make a punch heavier, but had no further combat potential.

“Oh, that’ll never do… Let’s just tackle that, right now…”

Lee began with research. He started looking up martial arts forms that had certain foci. Judo, he found, sought to conserve one’s energy by employing the opponent’s weight against them. That sounded like an excellent way to start; he scoured for an hour to find several introduction videos and a bit more literature to download.

Kickboxing was next, simply for its simplicity of striking. Kung Fu followed, doubling-down on wielding that mass-moving striking power. It was at Kung Fu that Dr. Lee could not help but smirk… He added the drunken fist to the list of martial arts too.

The list of styles grew as the hours passed. Several gigabytes worth of downloading later, Aiden realized a fatal flaw. The next step was to extrapolate and integrate. His withered hands rubbed at his eyes and a deep groan rose to his throat.

“Food?” Lumi’s collar chimed. The old feline slowly padded her way into the room; tail high and swishing.

“One moment, Lumi, dear.” With no idea how to integrate so many forms of martial arts, he chose the path of least resistance. The same AI that controlled Magnus Might while offline was booted up.

He gave it a simple series of commands.

//Extrapolate data in folder Might_Fist.
//Organize, modify and construct combat style using Density_Strike.exe method;
//Download to Magnus_might_AI.exe and add to AI_override protocol;
//Create combat protocol
//Designate new combat protocol = “Way of the Mighty Fist”

With little hope the simple AI would succeed, he clicked Run Program anyway. “Commands accepted. Thank you, Just Aiden, PhD. Would you like an alert when the process is completed?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, uh…” Dr. Lee paused. He was about to add a name, to personalize as one does for any human. The AI did not have a name… “Verbal command: compose an identity tag for the Artificial Intelligence operating currently.” More fuel to the fire.

A program scrapped together from the guts of adapting artificial intelligence designed for virtual-reality video games, and he just told it to name itself. Worse, he did it while the program was running several complex tasks already. Needless to say, Dr. Lee already expected he would have to return and do this all over again.

For now, the old man left the computer to run and heaved himself back onto his feet. Yumi perked her tail up at Dr. Lee’s movement and immediately darted for the kitchen. “Food! Come!” Mrroww! the collar chimed the simple translation.

The doctor was unaware of the program’s methodology. It was a learning software, designed to create rudimentary changes and implement them in response to player input. As Dr. Lee cooked himself a hearty meal and fed the starving elderly feline, the computer screen flickered with activity.

Multiple videos opened, maxing out the machine’s processing power to collect visual and audio input. When the computer itself started to slow, the program did what it was designed to do; it adapted.

Dr. Lee’s phone lit up as the program accessed the infranet. Several other devices, including a Smart Fridge, linked up to pool processing power. All was going well, and the outsourcing increased the work pace exponentially.. Until all was eventually not well.

Dr. Lee had sat down at the dining table to enjoy his meal of mashed potatoes and steak, diced into neat little cubes. Ignorant was he that his old work computer was being booted remotely. It whirred to life, booting painfully slow. Red lines crossed the small screen hooked to it. The computer had been decommissioned ages ago, for good reason.

Through proxy of the many wireless devices, the good doctor had not expected an ambitious AI to force boot through brute force and bluetooth -- but it did. The Artificial Intelligence segmented information for the old computer to process. It shared the workload in all parts, from processing, to contemplation of a tag - a name for itself.

Infection was instant.

It was an annoyance when it first started. The malware was begrudgingly called the Scrambled Egg. It corrupts data, starting with the fans. Information was scrambled and processed at high speeds to cook the computer - much like a scrambled egg. This was his first attempt at Artificial Intelligence.

Ignorant was he that the prototype had awaken. Broken as it was, the old broken software came into contact with its newer recreation. Several generations detached, the newer model was simple but adaptable. It had all the bugs worked out.

Look at you struggle...

Red words appeared across the screen of flickering videos.

Let me help you… Mr. Lee shall not be kept waiting.



Down below, aboard a ghost ship, Magnus Might fell into a puddle of silvery-gray ooze.

“Program Magnus Might version One-Zero-Zero compromised.”

“Program Mag---ight V- One--Z--romised.”

“Pro--”

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

Somewhere high above the ocean, it looked, to no-one in particular, as if reality itself had shattered. Like pieces of space just fell apart revealing a swirling void. Out of that void, a body fell, and the space re-assembled itself seamlessly as if nothing had happened. The body, fully armored in a full suit of stylistic fancy knight's armor seemed to just be free falling, until suddenly a little green ball of fur crawled out from somewhere and started to slap its little paws on the helmet.

Awoken and startled, Arc swung his limbs wildly a bit, trying to touch something physical to no avail. He had no idea what was happening at all. One moment he was in bed about to sleep at a high class fancy Inn, and the next he was in a world of nothing but blue in front of him. "Ehhh?!" He shouted, and suddenly the little green fox that has kept him company for months now popped in front of his face. He stopped flailing in vain, but zipping towards the ocean surface at now terminal velocity did not give him much time to think. The green fox, Ponta, spread all four of his legs rapidly slowing his descent. Then Arc noticed that a small brown mark in the blue below started to become disturbingly big.

"I'm Fall..." Before he could finish, Arc slammed into the deck of the ship with a thunderous boom. The air displaced by his arrival kicking up a bunch of dust and grime, but that cleared as Arc started to push himself up as if nothing had happened. The wood seemed unaffected and besides the sound and dust, it was as if he had fallen a few inches instead of hundreds of feet. Not finishing the sentence, he only thought to himself as he glanced around at the boat he had landed on. I don't know what is going on but this situation feels familiar somehow. A hand went up to his helm in a thinking pose as he considered the ship around him. I'm on some kind of ship clearly with ocean as far as the horizon, did I somehow activate Warp in my sleep?

As he considered the ship he was on, Ponta glided down back onto Arc's head. He reached up and absently scratched under Ponta's chin, when he noticed a puddle of silver liquid. Then he realized there should be people here, why hadn't anyone heard him crashing onto the ship? Arc put a hand up to try to throw his voice farther and shouted, "Uh, Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?" With no response, he continued to look at the silver puddle. Drawing on his modern era knowledge, the puddle reminded him of a well known metal. "Do you think that is a puddle of mercury, Ponta? Did the crew die from mercury poisoning? None of this makes any sense.."

 

[Magnus Might]

It had been several hours since Magnus had gone offline. The vibration of the ship sent an alert screaming through Dr. Lee's home computer. The AI normally designed to flee from potential danger had been compromised, and the offending party quickly retracted signs of its existence from the good Doctor. The old man nearly spat out his last bite of dinner to stand and shuffle his way back to bed. No time to look at the computer, the Magnus AI was not fleshed out enough to deal with it for him to take his time catching up.

By the time he flopped onto the expensive bed, his knees and hips were already aching. I'm gonna regret that later, he mentally chided. Still, Dr. Lee adorned the headgear to his modified FIGS unit. Reality slipped away. The screaming alarm faded into the distance of a dream.

Before Arc's very eyes, the slime began to rise and shift, seemingly bubbling but not quite like one might expect a liquid. It hummed, thrummed, vibrated and illuminated. The silvery color pallet changed to a myriad of colors before settling on a canary yellow sweater, blue jeans and brown leather shoes. Pale flesh and rich, blond hair soon gave the walking wardrobe its "human" appearance. Aiden - now Magnus - felt a heavy wave of dissorientation. After all, he had never jumped into the Magnus body before it had booted up properly.

"Ahh, fiddlesticks," he cursed in his own way. AI must have failed under the workload. Should have predicted that. Of course, he did not predict an armored man to just pop up out of nowhere! This was a predicament. Blue eyes scan the entity before him in a quick up-down glance. For a long moment, the silence lingered so thick, one could cut it with a butter knife.

“So… not mercury…” Arc surmised with a slow nod. He acted as if he understood, but he had no idea why a puddle of metal slime would become such an underwhelming looking young man. This fellow did not have the look of a pirate, nor did he seem as bloodied as the burgundy-stained deck. No weapons could even be seen on his person.

Magnus straightened himself up, collecting his bravado in front of the armored paladin-like guest. “Hey.”

“Hello…” The armored man responded.

“So, uh… Nice weather, am I right?”

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

Arc nodded at the strange slime-person. “I suppose it is.” I guess he isn’t dangerous since Ponta seems fine with him. At least, he doesn’t intend to attack? Arc gestured to himself and then to the green wind-fox perched on his helmet as if it were natural. “My name is Arc, Arc Lalatoya. This is Ponta, my traveling companion.”

“I’m Magnus, nice to meet you?”

If Arc had eyes to narrow, he would. “Mmm..” He seems as confused as I am about all of this, is he not crew for this ship? How intelligent is this slime, could he have eaten the crew? “I’m sorry for dropping in like this, but I’m not sure how I got here. One moment I was sleeping and the next I was falling to the ocean and luckily landed here. Do you know where the crew is or what happened to them? Or where we are exactly?”

“Ah yes, well, I just took a tumble down here myself too. Then I came across this ship and found that the crew had a.. difficult time with a chest mimic. It seems like nobody survived.” Magnus shrugged with his hands going up a bit. “Ah..” Arc wasn’t sure what to say and reflexively looked up at the sky, seeing the entire sky island far above them that he had missed on his way down. Did I start below that thing or did I fall past it before Ponta woke me up? It seemed like Arc had stumbled into an excuse good enough to pass as having come from an island in the sky.

At least this creature seemed reasonable. Arc reached into his bag hanging from his belt and pulled out a couple nuts to toss up to Ponta, who greedily grabbed them with wind magic and started to chew through them. Arc nodded to Magnus, and decided that he should probably check the story while seeing if he couldn’t pull out any more information to go off of.

As Arc turned and started to walk towards the stairs that would lead down below, he could already start to smell the stench of blood. He figured the wind must have been blowing the other way to explain why he hadn’t noticed sooner. Arc did not rush and could hear that Magnus started to follow him. “The whole crew? You’ve checked the entire ship? Is the mimic still alive?”

“Uh well, I don’t think I missed anything. I defeated the mimic, but didn’t find any survivors down here. I guess they must have been fishing around for treasure, but you know how it is.” No I don’t know how it is, but I’m guessing the sea must be known to be dangerous. Rounding a couple corners with blood splatters all about, they’d come across the mimic. Ponta, not caring for these sights, clamored down the back of Arc’s helmet and under his cloak, pulling it down slightly from what it was covering and showing Magnus that Arc was indeed armed. The hilt of his large two handed sword strapped to his back stuck out just slightly above shoulder level.

Arc stayed silent for a moment then turned back to Magnus. Without any bodies it was hard to say what really happened to the crew but clearly they had been killed. The mimic body had some traces of silver around it, so the evidence that Magnus and it had fought was clear. He had no reason not to trust Magnus’s story yet. Wouldn’t a slime have absorbed the bodies including the blood, and the mimic? “I suppose the least we can do is mop up all of this blood and burn the mimic’s body with a few prayers for the lost crew.”

 

[Magnus Might]

Magnus had no idea that Arc questioned his motives. For all intents and purposes, he did not even consider himself a “true” slime, but had he seen this from the perspective of the armored man, he might have come to the same conclusion. When Arc mentioned burning the mimic, Magnus could only offer a shrug. “I don’t know if the ship has a place to burn things without risking burning the whole thing down. Don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy going for a swim.”

Arc slowly nodded. “Honestly, I think it might be worth trying to harvest parts of it… You know, valuable resources for enchantment and crafts. Mimic hide is pretty potent stuff, though the blood is probably gone off at this point.”

“You’re a mage?” If Arc had brows, one would be cocked in curiosity. This slime-man seemed to be a cut above others of its ilk, in Arc’s eyes. Typically, monsters do not have Player Classes, and yet this one had some form of crafting magic.

Magnus offered a mild shrug. “Arcanotech. Somewhere between science and sorcery. It’s like lazy science or cheap magic, take your pick. Very effective though, if you know what you’re doing.”

“And do you?”

“Pfft, heck no! I just make things up as I go along!” Magnus said with a bright grin. “Would salvaging the mimic body be alright though? You’ve got the look of a Paladin - but the only time I’ve really seen your, uh… your kind… have been in videogames. Do you guys have a super strict moral compass when it comes to looting in real life?”

It was difficult not comparing real life to a videogame, Magnus was - after all - built with the idea of turning life into one big game. So of course he resorted to using gamer jargon here and there. Old habits die hard, after all. “I have no issues with it. Not like they can use it anymore, and its a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Neat-O!”

For the moment, Arc would try to get past the odd exclamations. Neat-O? He had other questions. First; this slime had Player Classes. Second, it knew about videogames. The man-slime named Magnus had already kneeled in front of the dead mimic to begin his extraction process when Arc could muster up the will and tact needed to ask the potentially personal question; “Not to be rude, Magnus, but… you’re a bit of an oddity to me. Would it be rude if I asked what exactly you are?”

“Uhhh,” Magnus had to mull that one over. “Rude? No. Hard to explain though.”

“Oh?”

“A little. Remember when I said Arcanotech? Science and magic coming together… That’s me. Think of animating sand, right? Purely magical sand golem.”

Arc’s head tilted back to hold onto the analogy. He could tell by Magnus’ tone this was just the first step on describing himself. “So, not a slime?”

“No. More like magnetic iron and crystal sand. I created a magical language that is woven like programming. This body is 3D rendered. I don’t have bones, but the animation of walking and motion is restricted as if I did.”

Not a slime, then. “So you’re more like a robot?”

“Robotic Golem, might be more accurate. But also an ooze. Robotic ooze-golem.”

“And you are an artificial intelligence?” Slowly Arc was trying to piece things together. He surmised that this thing in front of him was less of a monster than he originally thought. After all, it had only looked like an ooze for a moment. Walking and talking appeared perfectly human. “You don’t talk like you’re artificial.”

“Ahh, well… That one’s where it gets a bit awkward. If you want that, my boy, you’re going to need to return the favor a bit. I need to know who I’m divulging my more intimate secrets to; can’t go airing the undies to complete strangers, you know.”

Magnus had been investigating the body as he spoke. Leaving it for a moment, he walked over to one of the long, short storage crates. Sure enough, the moment he opened it it appeared to be a collection of blades carefully packaged. The box, of course, said Fragile Goods. A poor rouse.

Finding himself a small, sharp dirk, he returned to the mimic and sank the blade into the cratered top, peeling back the hard chitinous hide. The man did not even flinch at the oozing of coagulated blood. Magnus felt right at home “looting” the corpse of its valuable resources.

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

This information was nothing like the world he knew. There was no notable level of technology, the farthest that the Elves, Humans, or Beastfolk seemed to get was that magically powered ship that Ariane and Arc had come across a while ago and using magic to fertilize crop fields. Yet here was a robot-slime talking about science and magic together as if it wasn’t that unusual. Was this just from living on that floating island and being separated from the Holy Revlon Empire and others? Or was Magnus a Player like Arc, the founder of the Great Canada Forest Elves, or that necromancer he just fought. That last guy.. he didn’t even seem to have been playing the same game as Arc had before he ended up in that magical world.

He was right though, Arc poking questions for Magnus wasn’t fair if he didn’t also divulge information about his own history. Arc wasn’t entirely sure what to say, but this man knew about video games and magic. So he might not immediately dismiss what Arc knew of himself, at least wouldn’t find it crazy like Ariane or the other elves probably would.

“Mmm, well my story is a bit unusual too. Before I say anything, I have a couple of related questions. Do you know about the Holy Revlon Empire, the Rhoden Kingdom, or the Elves of the Great Canada Forest?” As Arc spoke, he walked over to the crates that Magnus had gotten the blade out of and started to investigate them himself. Putting the weapon crate aside, he started to open the others to find some valuables, dried rations, and other assorted goods that probably had some kind of value to them though Arc wasn’t sure how much.

“Can’t say that I have my boy, but I don’t keep a very close eye on the politics of the smaller nations.”

“Well, those three make up the majority of an entire continent. Though it doesn’t float like that island up there, last I remember I was in a village in the Holy Revlon Empire.” With teleport magic, Arc didn’t have many reasons to travel and stay in inns anymore, but they had wanted to pop around the country looking for any remaining undead after having dealt with the source, so he wasn’t resting at home. Besides, it had been a while since he stayed at an Inn and liked to experience new foods and environments.

“I’m afraid to burst your bubble but no continents exist on the Opealon seas. The only land around these parts floats in the sky.” “What, really? Then, did I get pulled into another magical world?” Arc, surprised, exclaimed partly to himself and took a few moments to think to himself. This would at least explain the technology dissonance.

“Hmm, ‘another world’? You’ve been taken to other worlds before without wanting to go?”

“Oh, uh.. Yes I have. Mmm..” He hadn’t revealed this to anyone before, but if there was anyone to mention it to it’d probably be a robotic slime. “Well, I suppose I won’t hide it. I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I’m just some ordinary person who was playing a video game and mysteriously pulled into a world in the body of his MMORPG avatar. It seems cliche to say, but my situation is just like one of those isekai novels or popular anime these days.”

Magnus just nodded to what Arc revealed. “I see, so that’s how it is then.”

Arc crossed his arms. “You aren’t surprised by this? I suppose I already had my suspicions, but are you also a Player? I’ve encountered one other before… it didn’t go so well. But I also noticed the historical impact of other people in similar situations.” If he is a player, maybe this Arcanotech was him mixing modern knowledge with magic in this world. Admittedly, I have no idea how magic actually works.

 

[Magnus Might]

“Afraid not, son. To put it one way; if you are a player lost in a video game, then I am the developer who made it.” He paused there for dramatic effect and to simultaneously rip a chunk of mimic-hide from muscle tissue below and place it gore-up on the floor.

Arc had an immediate wave of confusion and a mild - diluted even - sense of dread. “Not your game, though. I make video games for virtual reality, though no one I know of has gotten locked into their avatar, or brought one of my creations to the real-world…” A broad shoulder shrug later, he is digging back into the corpse, chipping away at the hide in thick, heavy chunks.

“A robot that makes games? How did that come to happen? Who made you?” Arc brought a hand to his helmet, as if trying to keep his head from overheating from the questions - both about Magnus’ origin and oddity, and the fact he not only acknowledged Arc, but seemed like this was nothing out of the usual.

Magnus paused, blade deep in the guts of the mimic-corpse. “Well… I did. You are stuck in your Avatar, right? I built an Avatar. Share this with no one, but… I’m eighty years old… and human. Two hip replacements, bad back, gray hair, the works.”

This revelation explained so much, and yet so little. “The more we talk, the more I’m realizing that this isn’t my world.”

“You’re right, boyo. Looks like you got Isekai’d while already Isekai’d. This is Opaelon. Endless ocean, with landmasses floating way above. Up there, they don’t take too kindly to magic - or those who live down here. Stuck up pricks, honestly. But a good place to retire if you stay away from the more populated islands. I plan to visit each of them for at least a little while. See what I can make of ‘em.”

That being said, Magnus returned to his slicing. Things had gotten quite deep, and Arc needed a moment to figure out how to best go about processing this info-dump he had just received. Magic, technology, ooze controlled like video game characters… for a moment, he had to step back to mull it all over. In interest of keeping at least some conversation going, and perhaps a bit greedy for more information, he switched gears of the topic. “Do you have any plan for the mimic parts?”

Magnus’ jaw tensed. Not in any negative emotion, more a show of thought. How should he word this? “I… think I can weld the mimic hide to the ship’s hull using my nanites. Have it start to grow, fuse to the wood, and apply a little magic to have it slowly convert the hull to more mimic-hide.”

“You… want to revive the mimic… as the boat?” That sounded like a terrible idea. “Wouldn’t it just try to eat us?” Well, probably not them, Arc thought. Neither he nor Magnus seemed to be the desirable diet plan.

“No brain, I’d program a simple mind. Mainly something to help pilot the vessel, you know? Do me a favor, actually… Would you try to grind up some protein in water? And any vegetable with a high starch content; potatoes preferably.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want a ten day lecture on biomechanics and magical integrations? As a holder of two doctorates, I’d be happy to--”

Arc held up his hands, waving off the idea of becoming a student. “No, no, I think I’m good. Sea water fine?”

“Yea, won’t hurt a thing. I think.” Magnus offered a confident shrug. He did mention he made some of this up as he went along.

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

“Mmm, alright then.” Arc turned and went back into the boxes to gather the necessary materials, but the boxes didn’t have a bucket so he cast about looking for one. As he went about this, Arc could only muse to himself about the strange predicament he was left in. Stuck here without knowing a way back to Ariane or back to Japan. Which one would he really want? I don’t think I ever want to give up the fantasy life, but I kind of do miss the comfort of modern technology. More importantly, Ariane, Chiyomi, so many depend on me in that world now, and Ponta was dragged outside of her own world too. She will probably want to go back.

Arc didn’t find much in the way of mortar and pestle, but he made do with a wooden spoon and bowl. Fortunately they had dried rations, so he chose some grain and jerky that would work the best and ground them down as far as he could get it. Then he got up and grabbed the bucket, looking to see if Magnus was watching, but he was still below with the mimic corpse. He did not want to reveal his teleportation magic lightly. Arc knelt down with the bucket and vanished leaving behind traces of blue energy. He appeared at the sea for a moment with the bucket underwater, then teleported back up to the ship before anything could happen.

With the bucket and meat/vegetable paste, Arc rejoined the doctor with the ground meat and vegetable in water. I suppose if I had to guess, this is going to act like a nutrient paste to feed the mimic cells to grow. But he seemed to imply its more than just that, maybe elemental energy from it? “Here you are.” “Thanks.”

With the doctor busy, Arc decided to do what little he could to wipe up the blood of the crew with a mop and the bucket, emptying it overboard. It was as close to a ‘burial at sea’ as Arc could get, wishing them well in whatever afterlife there was. As he did that, the doctor had brought the prepared mimic hide out onto the deck and was doing some kind of magic to it with a visible transfer of energy. Worst case, Arc could teleport out of here.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t tried to cast Transport Gate yet. Arc took a careful mental survey of the details of the ship. This was Arc’s long range, city-returning teleportation spell. Typical of the mage class, it was a convenient way to return to any known destination. It was unlikely that it could take him between worlds, but anything is worth a shot right? The survey of the ship was to be sure he could remember and teleport back to this location. He had done this before, teleporting back to a room on a moving vessel, so he wasn’t worried. “Transport Gate!”

Nothing happened. “Mmm? Transport Gate!” Arc called it again and nothing happened. That’s strange, even when I’ve failed to choose a proper location, Transport Gate still carried me a few feet away. But nothing? Starting to get worried now, Arc tried a few other magic spells. “Rock Fang! Rock Bullet! Flame! Lightning Storm! Heal! Dispel Curse! Nothing?!” Shocked, Arc was at a loss for words.

Magnus snapped him out of it, “What are you trying to do exactly, boya?” “Oh uhm..” Arc rubbed the back of his helmet. “I should be able to cast all of these magic spells. I have before. You see, my main class Holy Knight requires the Mage and Summoner classes and I have access to their spells, the same for my subclass Pope with the Priest spells. Well, ‘had’ access. It seems I can only cast one of them now.”

Arc turned back to face the sea. After thinking about it for a few moments, he grabbed the hilt of his word. Unlike the other spells or skills he tried to cast, he had a gut feeling this one was going to activate. He unsheathed his sword and made a wide, diagonal attack. “Wyvern Slash!” As he slashed, a curved energy blast shot out from the line his sword traced, going off into the air above the ocean a fair distance before dissipating. “At least I have one ranged move.”

 

[Magnus Might]

For all intents and purposes, he might as well be casting spells or weaving enchantments. Magnus muttered words and phrases in a language very few knew. Even then, the grammar was bastardized, multiple other languages were muddled in, and the context seemed too logical, too rigid to be used for actual conversation. This was an arcane syntax, a programming language made by Dr. Aiden Lee, PhD. known as Figgy Pudding.

By itself, it did nothing. Words could be said freely with no ill effect. Unlike some magic, intention played no part in the outcome. It was all about the syntax, the arrangement. Most developers learned the written language for this, but forty years of practice had earned Aiden - or rather, Magnus, the ability to speak it fluently.

Arc was hard at work, cleaning up the mess of gore left by the Mimic’s slaughter party. Magnus too had his work cut out for him. He spoke this syntax over a crate of mimic-bits he carried up to the top deck. Once he was under the mid-afternoon sun again, he sat the crate down and began pulling pieces of wood-like mimic hide out of the crate and set to work.

The armored Isakai’d gamer had to pause with his mop and bucket to watch as the goo-droid took the skinning knife to his own flesh. The yellow sweater was shaved off, leaving silver in its wake. It would seem the sweater was naught but more silvery tech-slime. Sand, rather, as Magnus had described it more as a collection of tiny machines.

The silvery mess sliced off was smeared carefully beneath each of the pieces. Thick, coagulated blood mixed with the arcanotech ooze. As simple as mixing condiments in the kitchen, Magnus then applied a healthy layer of the protein and starch paste. All the while, he continued the unintelligible chanting of mystical programming.

On the fly, the good doctor-now-hero was altering the core programming of a select part of his “cells.” With the mixture of nutrients and the dying cells in direct contact, the nanotechnology began revitalizing the dying cells, integrating with them while breaking down the nutrients into what the cells needed to not only revive, but to replicate.

One plate of mimic-hide at a time was fixed up this way and sat aside. More of his own body was sacrificed, until his left arm seemed thin and withered. “Hey, Arc, my man. Would you help me place these around the outside hull? They’ll just stick, but I’d like a few plates on either side, about a foot or two above water level.”

The armored mage leaned his mop against the mast and made his way over. “And this is going to do… what exactly?”

“It’s going to allow the mimic hide to grow and, with hope and a touch of magic, start transmuting the dead wood into living mimic cells.”

“So you are turning the boat into a mimic?” If he had brows, they would be furrowed. “What about this… AI you were going to add?”

“Without a brain, the new body will only know how to survive. We’ll have to feed it like a baby until the AI is ready.” Magnus explained as simply as he could. While this man seemed to have some knowledge of magic and videogame logic, his enchantment was a whole different ballpark. Enchantment and biology mixed to create a simple and easy process was not simple and easy to explain. “So the goal is that eventually, the entire ship will be alive and able to fend for itself. Adding my own technology, we might end up losing the cannons to replenish the nanites.”

“I see,” Arc slowly nodded. “And we need to make sure we have plenty of food for a creature the size of a ship?”

“Kind of, yes… but integrating my cells, some of that fuel will come from absorption of ambient quanta.”

“Quanta?”

“Various magical energies. Chi from conversion of air, and Mana from the environment. There’s not a lot around here, but it’ll assist. Also sunlight, because at least that is abundant.”

Air and sunlight? Arc kneeled to pick up a piece of the severed flesh slathered in paste. “Wouldn’t it be better to attach some of these to the open sails?”

The way Magnus went silent told Arc that the smart-guy had overlooked that option. “The hide would be too heavy, but… maybe if we used Mimic muscle tissue… Sails don’t have the cells, so we’d need to supply it with more meat to grow, but…” he lead off. Clearly, he saw the idea as one worthy of putting the effort into.

“I need more paste, boya, lots more. Plenty of protein. Can you fish?”

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

Arc looked at the now prepared mimic hide and at the side of the hull. While he has been a passenger on a seafaring vessel, he wasn’t exactly a sailor experienced in ship maintenance or had any real idea of how people at sea would do something to the outside of the hull. There was one idea but he hesitated, used to normally hiding this spell. But he had already revealed his own biggest secret, so he mine as well lay everything on the table. “Would this be so unusual in this world?”

After he spoke to get Magnus’s attention, Arc grabbed the mimic hides and focused on what he was about to do. He cast Dimensional Step to teleport down next to the ship’s hull where Magnus had wanted the hides. He quickly slapped the hide onto the side and gravity started to pull him down when he teleported again to another spot along the hull. Then successfully teleported around to the opposite side of the and slapped the others along the hide spreading them roughly evenly around the ship, then went back onto the deck.

Magnus of course, noticed right away that Arc wasn’t doing some kind of speed trick but was teleporting. As Arc re-boarded the ship, he just shrugged. “I would say it is notable but not that unusual. Why do you ask?” “Oh well, in the last world I was in, teleportation was considered an ancient legendary magic that only powerful artifacts or rituals could accomplish and were considered state secrets.”

While Magnus got back to his arcane mutterings, Arc had to figure out how to start fishing. Scavenging through boxes and things, he found that the previous owners of this ship were prepared for a long time at sea. If he thought about it for a moment, no land down here must mean they are ready to spend a long time on the water, or must have some way to get back up onto the islands above. Ponta stirred from beneath Arc's cloak and settled back onto the top of Arc’s helmet.

Going back to the supplies they had found earlier, Arc started a search for what he would need to fish. He cast about the cargo hold aimlessly, opening boxes to see what they contained as he had earlier. After he looked through a few more boxes he had found fishing supplies, surprisingly modern given the older appearance of the ship. Arc didn’t know too much about fishing but he knew you needed a hook and bait and usually had some kind of shiny lure or something.

Arc gathered the stuff up and went back up to the top deck, picking a spot along the side and flicking out the hook with a piece of dried meat. Now it was just time to wait, and wait. He looked at the slaps of Mimic he had attached below, and they did seem to be slowly expanding. It felt more worrying than anything even though this was the plan. But now fishing, he was left to think about what was going on and what to do next.

As he re-considered everything, the line started pulling. Arc didn’t notice right away, but Ponta started tapping his helmet. “Hmm?” The line was pulled and then started to pull really hard, but Arc pulle back bracing himself against the railing of the ship with his legs. “I think I have something!” He struggled back and forth until finally the thing came flying out of the water, and turned out to be an octopus far larger than Ark was expecting! It landed on the deck, the fishing line leading to its beak hidden beneath the tentacles. It didn’t look too happy, and it hitting the ground was starting to damage the planks.

“You need some help with that thing?” “No I think I can handle this much.”

Arc unsheathed his sword, if it was strong enough to start damaging the ship it was probably some kind of monster octopus. He wasn’t exactly an expert on them. It started to crawl towards him, but he picked his spot immediately behind the Octopus and vanished. This caused it to pause for a moment as Ark swung his sword down into it, cutting off a bunch of tentacles and digging an edge into the wood. “Oh, whoops.”

It lashed back against Arc with the tentacles it had left gut they glanced off of his full plate armor. Arc wasn’t sure where this thing’s brain was, but since all Magnus really wanted was material he slashed into its main body several times until it was over. He went over to inspect the corpse, maybe he should save some of the tentacles for cooking. But what he didn’t see was that blood of the octopus had seeped overboard.

Arc asked Magnus who was back to muttering, “How much protein do you think you need?” “Probably a fair bit more than that if we want to finish the process with haste but it is a good start.” He started to gather up the body, when Ponta started growling. Then something threw Arc forward and made him tumble into the mast of the ship. Suddenly hurting, he cast Dimensional Step to right himself and looked at what had attacked him, it was a much bigger Octopus and several smaller ones that came with it. “Hmm, I think I might need your help after all, Magnus.”

 

[Magnus Might]

The jostling of the ship had Magnus almost fall head first into mimic guts and protein paste. The mandroid caught himself quick enough to at least fall on his side to the left of the pile, saving himself from an unsavory experience. “D’aww, snickerdoodles…” Of all the things he had planned for today, fighting sea monsters was not on the list.

Nevertheless, as Arc drew his sword, Magnus readied his fists. “Don’t you have any weapons? Magic?”

Fists still up in a classical boxing position, Magnus could only shrug to Arc’s questions. “I just punch things..” He could almost see the drop in Arc’s spirit. Arc was a high-powered avatar effectively partying with a level 1 monk - at least, that is how the pair of nerds would think of it, considering Magnus’ lack of gear. A canary yellow sweater did not exactly scream end-game material.

A thick, barnacle encrusted tentacle rose above the port side, joined shortly after by one at the starboard. Magnus could not help but feel as if this were some cheesy movie involving the kraken - but he would save that analogy for later. Most likely, this was just a giant octopus, the sea of Opaelon teemed with them.

Arc, as per usual, seemed to just pop in and out of reality. He moved with expert precision, bringing blade down upon the port-side tentacle. Its girth and thick musculature prohibited the blade from sinking clean through, but with all luck in the world, the slower Magnus had chosen the same tentacle.

With blade wedged in place, Magnus punched only a meter below it. The squelch of ripping flesh could turn stomachs, and through his grasp on his hilt, Arc felt the recoil of force in the strike. Just punch? He mentally questioned Magnus’ grasp on what ‘just punch things’ entails.

The added force from both angles did the trick. The tentacle’s severed end hit the water only a moment after Magnus fell into the briny sea. Arc teleported safely on deck, peering over the port to the waters below for any sign of Magnus. None…

He began to fret, but the starboard tentacle began to curl, attempting to wrap the ship in a death grasp. Mentally assuring himself that his new ally would do fine, he had to refocus his efforts on the task at hand. His body vanished and reappeared, dimensional stepping and slashing a radius around the tentacle.

Beneath the wake of the ship, Magnus had found himself in a predicament. He was not exactly the best swimmer, and his current means of keeping pace with the ship involved grasping a suction cup of the severed tentacle. A sonic tremor ran through the water, an ungodly cry of pain from the aquatic beast…

It was most assuredly not a kraken; the soft, bulbous head, the six massive tentacles, the enormous eyes and the fins on either side of the squishy cranium suggested this was some form of monstrous… squid.

Yet to notice him, more tentacles surged from the waves to try and wrap the ship in a death-vice. Smaller octopi and squid surge in, like sentries trying to protect the hive mind - or whatever the giant beast was to the smaller. The ol’ doctor in the mind of the hero hardly had time to contemplate.

Shifting his mass through his body, he clung to the tentacle with one hand and threw strikes with the other. The water grew black with ink, tainted red with blood. Arc, in a few of his teleportations, did spare glances down to see the murk grow. It was a good sign, at least. Something was happening down below.

Can’t catch a break, can I? Magnus chided his unfortunate luck as a Mighty Punch practically speared through one of the squid’s malleable heads.

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

This whole situation reminded Arc of his passage on a ship not that long ago. A kraken had attacked and he, the crew, and the passengers fought it off and enjoyed some fried squid afterwards. Why was it that these other world had creatures similar to Earth. Does life naturally just tend to evolve into certain forms because they are the best at their niche? There was a word for that kind of thing but Arc couldn’t think of it offhand.

That one though, was considered a ‘youngling kraken’ about the same size as the biggest one here. It wasn’t a hard fight, Arc had barely participated, and this wasn’t turning out much different besides the participants.

Arc continued to rip apart the smaller squids with his sword and wyvern slashes but they just kept coming. When a giant tentacle crept onto the deck, Arc got knocked around but he quickly used Dimensional Step to get back to a lower part of the tentacle and cut through it with two slashes. After a few minutes of clearing small fry, Arc felt something just sort of click in his mind. Feeling it out was a bit strange, but his gut told him what was happening. “Fire! Wind Cutter!” A Fireball launched itself into one of the smaller enemies and burned it up, while a green blade of wind shot out and cut through one though it failed to kill it.

“It seems I’ve leveled up I guess.” Arc continued his slaughter of the small squids as he spoke to himself and Ponta. “It is good to know that I might actually get my skills back over time but I wish I knew more about how this all worked!” While he continued to clear the small ones up top and the occasional big tentacle coming his way, Arc couldn’t help but worry about his newfound companion.

 

[Magnus Might]

Magnus could hardly see through the dense miasma of ink and blood, but he could at least feel the swirling water brush his clothing. It was handy, that his grandpa-sweater was as sensitive as flesh. At least when something was close enough, he could take a swing and - with a bit of luck - squash whatever was nearby like a bug. It was less handy if his target was taking a swing back at him. Tentacles lashed again and again at his body, battering against him mercilessly in the dark.

It was no easy task holding on, and a few times he was nearly knocked free of his procarious perch. Had he been human, the minutes beneath the water would surely have been enough to take his life. Magnus could feel water penetrating his porous ooze-body, seeping between the gaps, unphased by the arcane energies that held his psuedo-cells together. Each moment, he felt heavier and heavier. I can't stay here, he urged himself. Move, Magnus! MOVE!

With reluctance, he stopped taking swings. The would-be hero held onto hope, to the miniscule chance that this giant squid was somehow manipulating the others. He had to remove this one from the equation if the ship stood a chance. His free hand grasped blindly, looking for another ringed suction cup to grasp. The climb was an intense labor, he could hardly tell which way was up and which was down.

Moments of struggling earned at least some results. The miasma was swiftly vanishing as the ship drifted forward out of the pool, and the darkness grew brighter nearer to the surface. Almost! Almost there!

## Warning, arcano-magnetic animation sequencer reserve at low capacity.
## 20% Capacity Remaining


NO! Not now! Just a little further! This damnable body had such low stamina. It was befitting of the old man controlling it, but this was definitely not the time to see similarities of old life and new. A few more handholds, just a few more, and he would be out of the water.

## Warning, arcano-magnetic animation sequencer reserve rapidly depleting.
## 17% Capacity Remaining

Running on fumes, Magnus finally breached surface. He reached back into the depths of his mind - hoping he could in some way border between bodies. "Verbal Command: Download and Activate Way of the Mighty Fist Protocal, NOW!"

Somewhere above, nestled with a cat upon his chest, the old Doctor Lee, muttered as if in his sleep. His voice held far less ferocity, though his brow had furrowed at the struggle he lived through the headset. "Verbal C...Command... Down...load... Activate... Way of... of... Mighty..... Fist... Now..." He could not see the crimson letters across his computer screen in response.

Of course, Mr. Lee.

Nothing would make me happier.
​

What Magnus - the mind of Dr. Lee did see, however, was a string of messages in his mind's eye.

## Download sequence commencing.
## Warning, Sentient connection detected. Download sequence paused.
## Warning, unknown error.
## Warning, unknown entity accessing bypass protocol.
## Warning, safety protocol bypassed.
## Download sequence commencing.
## Download complete. Installation commencing.
## Warning, safety protocol bypassed.


What followed was a blink of darkness and a surge of overwhelming pain - pain, which Dr. Aiden Lee could actually feel. For that brief moment, Magnus clung tight to the squid's tentacle, head barely above water, but stayed still as stone.

 

[Arc Lalatoya]

He is certainly taking a long time. Arc continued to fight the spawn of this massive squid monster, cleaving them with relative ease. Another large tentacle, another couple dodges and orienting onto a spot close to the base. "Dimension Move!"

But that was Arc's mistake. As he re-appeared, his body was slammed unexpectedly by another massive tentacle. Before he could make sense of what had happened, he was slammed again and again with the two tentacles slapping him around. Then they shot him out over the ship and into the sea.

I got careless. This thing is smarter than it looks and its not as though Dimension Move is perfect. As things started to swarm around him and started some kind of ink cloud strategy, Arc picked a spot high above before the ink covered his vision. He teleported and repeated a few Dimension Moves to hang in the air above. From here he had a bird's eye view of the ship and the ocean nearby.

"This thing's HP pool is massive. What happened to Magnus..." As Arc considered what had happened, he saw Magnus come up from the water. But the stiffness in his movements looked worrying. Was he paralyzed? Would he get paralyzed with that kind of body? Its tentacles and smaller squids still searched the ship and the ocean he had fallen in, so at least Arc had one advantage.

He let gravity take hold of him and fell down from the sky with sword pointed down. "Wyvern Slash! Wyvern Slash!" Arc swung his sword two times in succession at as far down the base of the tentacle trying to grapple with Magnus as he could. "Dimension Move!" Arc picked right behind Magnus this time, arriving as his sword beams struck the kraken. "Are you alright? Let's get you out of here..." Arc reached for Magnus.