Johnny Come Lately

A white panel van, the words “Sal’s Salvage” written across its side in big, red letters, pulled up to the Newman household a little past five in the evening. John sank into the van’s passenger seat, his faint hope that he might beat his mother home extinguished by the sky blue, compact pickup sitting in the driveway. His disappointment must have radiated from him.

“Everything cool?” Daryl asked with a cautious tone.

“Yeah, I'm just…trying to figure out what I'm going to tell her.”

“She really strict about your comings and goings?”

“I wouldn’t say strict. She’s only ever asked that I keep her informed of where I’m going and when I’ll be back. I can’t imagine she’ll be happy about me disappearing without explanation.”

“Well, you’d know better than I would, but if she hasn’t started blowing up your phone yet, then she’s probably not that worried.”

John retrieved his phone from his pocket. No text messages. No missed calls. Maybe Daryl was right. Maybe she wasn’t worried. But, wouldn’t she at least check when he'd be home for dinner?

John exited the vehicle, accidentally dislodging a few drive-thru receipts and an old soda can from the mat of trash piled up before the passenger seat. Hurriedly, he collected the debris, tossed it back into the van, then pulled open the sliding access door to retrieve his bike.

Strangely, the back of the van was in a much better state. It was cluttered by new scrap yet to be unloaded, and the rubber coated floor could have used some sweeping. But, it was otherwise well organized. A large stainless steel toolbox, spanning the width of the vehicle and just short enough to not block the rear view, divided the cab from cargo. Large tools, ropes, chains, safety gear, and a chainsaw were all neatly secured to sturdy wooden rails running along the walls.

John had to wonder if everything behind the driver’s seat had been someone else's responsibility.

As John struggled to wrench his bike free of the metallic clutter, Daryl took one of the cast off scraps of paper from his accumulating fire hazard, quickly scribbled his phone number on it, and passed it back to John.

“If you run into trouble or have any questions just let me know.”

“Thanks.” John went to close the sliding access door, but hesitated. “Hey, could I bum another ride from you tomorrow? I go to Ashcroft, and by the time I ride from there to Sal’s, I’d have to immediately turn around to go home.”

“Could do, or you could just skip class and go straight to the guild hall.”

“Not an option.”

“Come on, little dude, you’re an Abyssal now. You’ve got magic. What’s the point of going to some mundane, wannabe university for rich assholes? No offense.”

“It’s important to my mom, and I can’t exactly tell her I’m dropping out to become a wizard.”

“Yeah, that’d be a pretty hard sell. Not to mention the certain **** involved. What time do you get out?”

“On Tuesdays, a little after one.”

“I can make that work. Send me the pick up location later.”

“Thanks. See you later.”

“See you tomorrow, Litt–” Daryl's response was cut off by the slamming of the van’s heavy sliding door.

The hum of Daryl's van faded into the distance as John walked his bike up the driveway and wracked his brain for some explanation for his uncharacteristic truancy and inexplicable disappearance.

‘Maybe mom doesn’t know I skipped school. I mean, no one at Ashcroft would call someone’s parents just because they missed a day. I’m pretty sure that’d be a FEMA violation anyway. I only have to explain why I wasn’t home when she got back.’

John pulled his bike into the small gap between the truck and the garage door, where he’d been hidden from view through the living room window, and leaned against the hood of the truck as he puzzled out the fine details of his fib.

‘I just went on a quick ride to pick up some snacks and forgot to text before I left. Yes, I was inconsiderate, but no harm, no foul. She’s going to ask why I didn’t bring any snacks. What’s constantly… out of…’

His train of thought faded away as realization slowly dawned on him. The hood was stone cold. An hour wouldn't have been long enough for the engine to cool off entirely. It should have at least been warm. She’d come home early. She almost never came home early. She frequently came home late. She occasionally left for work early. But, she only ever came home early when something very bad had happened.

‘Fuck me, she knows. The school called her, she rushed back to make sure I hadn’t died in my sleep, and saw my bike missing. She's probably fuming right behind the front door, just waiting for me to walk in.’

He left the bike leaning against the garage door, snuck up to the front door, and peered through the front window. The living room was dimly illuminated by the light coming from the kitchen. John delicately turned the key of the deadbolt, an attempt to muffle the sounds of the mechanism. He cracked open the door.

Silence.

“Mom?” John called toward the kitchen in a quiet, guilty, tone.

There was no response. No sounds of movement.

He gently pushed the door open, crept softly towards the kitchen, and stopped a furthenough from the threshold that he’d be hidden from anyone sitting at the kitchen table. From there the kitchen looked nearly untouched since he’d left that morning, except that his mother’s purse was now sitting by the sink. She was waiting, just out of view, furious.

‘Is it too late to die fighting a dinosaur?’

John mustered his courage and stepped across the threshold.

The room was empty.

Bewildered, John spun around and found a new note stuck to the fridge by a magnet, some cash sandwiched behind it.

“Been up since two. Going to get some sleep. If I’m not up by five, order something for dinner and wake me when it gets here. Please, no pizza.”

Relief swept over him, as the pieces fell into place. She had left so early that morning, that she’d returned earlier than she’d expected him to be home from school.

After ordering dinner from an Indian hole in the wall, he returned to the living room, pulled the curtains closed, and turned on the tv, setting the volume just low enough that he’d be able to hear any footsteps echoing from upstairs. Falling into the couch, he opened his Character Sheet.

‘I have about half an hour before the food arrives, a Level Up to spend, and loot to sort. First things first. Do I have tooltips for my Stats yet?’

This feature is still installing. Please stand by.

‘Negatory. That will have to wait. Then it’s time to play with the loot.’

As John opened his Inventory, his subconscious bubbled, biomantic understanding eagerly goading him to finally check the blood hunter’s disgusting organ. John pulled the jar and its ruby occupant from his Inventory and cast Observe.

Sanguine Sac (Uncommon)
Description: The dual chambered, secondary digestive organ of an Arterrocanthus. The organ’s upper chamber converts ingested blood into sanguine serum, a stimulant which fortifies Endurance and HP Regeneration. The lower chamber stores and then secretes the serum into the creature's bloodstream during periods of intense exertion or when wounded.

“Ok, it’s a bit more complicated than a blood bag. That serum sounds like it might actually be worth something.”

‘Told you.’

“Shut up. Just because it’s not totally useless doesn’t mean it was worth keeping.”

‘Although, If the stimulant was compatible with human biology or, at least, if it could be made compatible, and presuming it didn’t harbor any disqualifying side effects, the sac could be used to—’

“Nope,” he muttered as he shoved the sac back into his Inventory, depriving the alien contemplation of its muse and causing it to sputter out. “I’ve had more than enough of this grossness for one day.”

John retrieved a pair of unusual metals that had been dropped by the boss. While collecting them from the arena floor, they had appeared, at first, to be totally mundane, but closer inspection revealed odd discolorations.

The first could be mistaken for iron or one of its duller alloys if not for its strange blueish glint. Presumably, the warheads of the construct’s weapon, the ragged axe blade and pommel, had been composed of this metal.

New Recipe Added.
Arcano-Steel (Uncommon)
Description: An alloy which boasts high mana conductance and geometric stability. Emitters produced from this alloy display stable, uniform mana fields across a wide range of forms and proportions.

‘Well, that’s alright. I guess. Not being restricted to one very specifically proportioned shape is probably great for enchanting, but it doesn’t do me much good.’

John rolled the billet over in his hands, appreciating its sparkling as the light caught the fine, nearly microscopic, splinters of mana seared quartz embedded in the iron-nickel alloy. It was a strange feeling, being totally ignorant of the metal one moment then fully understanding the intricacies of its composition and material properties the next.

‘I may be able to upgrade the mage spear with it. Switch the bronze blade out with this, give it a bronze spine to insulate it, and then power it with a properly shielded capacitor. Of course, without a regulator, the blade will drain the capacitor continuously, which reintroduces the mana bleeding issue. So yeah, this’ll be more useful when I can actually enchant it.’

The second, and slightly more abundant metal, appeared much like mundane bronze, though slightly redder in color and bearing a faint, iridescent sheen as if coated in a thin, oily film. Obviously, this had been the contruct’s armor and shield.

New Recipe Added.
Thaumic Bronze (Uncommon)
Description: While its material properties are most similar to that of mundane bronze, the inclusion of a thaumic powder grants the metal the ability to repair itself by absorbing the excess mana radiated by creatures in close proximity.
Material Bonus: Items made from this metal absorb ten percent of the excess mana generated by creatures in contact with them, restoring one Durability per MP absorbed.

‘Hmm, I currently generate about half a MP per minute, meaning that this would restore one Durability every twenty minutes. Across eight armor slots, that would be twenty four Durability per hour. That’s a hell of a lot faster than my HP regenerates.’

John returned the billets to his Inventory, weaved his fingers together behind his head and leaned back against his palms.

‘This might be something worth building around. I could design my equipment to draw power from a central battery and treat myself as a power plant. As long as I don’t tap into my innate mana supply, then the armor would repair itself. I won’t know how viable that strategy is until my tooltips finish installing.’

Last, and hopefully not least, was the Quest reward, a vaguely spherical chunk of semi-opaque crystal about the size of a baseball. Beneath its glassy surface, the crystal resembled a nebula in suspended animation, a muted rainbow of cloudy bands twisting together until collapsing into a deep grey core.

Lesser Thaumic Star (Rare) (Salvageable)
Description: An enigmatic crystal believed to have fallen from the heavens. Ancient artificers prized it for its capacity to store mana and, when powderized, as the key ingredient in the production of all thaumic materials.
Component Effect: This item can store up to 100 MP.

John sat conflicted. The crystal could store half as much mana as the basic mana batteries for which he had a recipe but weighed only five ounces versus the fifty pounds.

‘How much powder would I even get from this thing?’

Salvage Output:
2~6 ouncesThaumic Powder
1~3 Star Fragment(s)
Skill: Thaumaturgy (Passive)
Confirm Salvage?
Yes No

John stared in disbelief at the panel hovering before him. Thaumaturgy, synonymous with spellcraft, granted somehow by breaking a rock.

‘One good battery or a bunch of magic dust and a new Skill. Not a hard choice.’

Something strange happened as John confirmed the action. His grip on the orb involuntarily tightened. Tingling pinpricks crept up his forearm. Silver light ignited in the crystal's core and radiated out to the cloudy bands granting their colors greater brilliance.

In panic, John tried to pry his fingers away from the star, but the moment his free hand grazed the surface, it betrayed him and seized hold of the crystal as firmly as the first.

With sharp snaps and pops, fissures broke on its surface casting rays of kaleidoscopic light across the room. The world flashed white. The orb disappeared from his hand with a bang. Light streaked up his arm and throughout his body, illuminating a network of silver veins sprawling over his skin.

John raised his trembling hands close to his face, his vision severely blurred by the flash.

The glow slowly dimmed, and a strange warmth settled into his bones.

Clenching his teeth, resisting the primal urge to scream, John thought, ‘What the hell just happened?’

There was scarcely a moment to recover before footsteps began to echo from upstairs.