While the nature of his new opponent was still unclear, he knew one thing: He could not let anyone but himself access the manor’s full functions. Especially now. He did not know how they were able to pass the bio-stasis field, but his enemies were relentless. His former allies were even more so. If they were able to destroy his entire crew and cripple him in the process, they were formidable. He clenched a fist in the dark, anger building from the scattered memories he could piece together.
“We have grown!”
Methiochos had to calm his mind and push down the Dark. He had less control over it when strong emotions manifested. It was becoming easier the more he regained consciousness, but it was always there on the fringes, probing for an opening. Methiochos had grown too, though. He did not fatigue the same way he did before everything happened. While annoying, he could meet the Dark and he would prevail against it. As well as anyone who dared to cross him.
###!###
Day 6 9:21 AM
7:03:13 remaining
Gus headed to the control center. He had originally planned to go hunting or grab some fruit, but an idea came to him: Didn’t the manor support numerous robots of all types and shapes, that were supposed to support a large crew of humans? Why was he wasting time trying to do everything himself? He needed to find some robots to gather food, and hopefully some kind of chef to cook him meals.
Checking his stats, he found he had a whopping 2300 FP. He had to search through a lot of departments before he found what he wanted in the auxiliaries menu. Various types of gathering robots and drones existed. Auxiliaries management was cheap at 1000 FP and allowed existing bots of various types to be accessed and programmed. It would allow him access to most of the drones and robots in the manor and he could task them with mundane jobs that were sapping his time. He was alone for the foreseeable future, and it was the only way to delegate necessary but time-squandering responsibilities.
Gus then found food preparation bots as a sub-department of the Cafeteria. Unlocking both would cost 2000 FP. Gus spent the points and wondered if he was being too hasty spending his facility points. It was a little extravagant, but saving time and focusing more on his development would possibly be a life-saver. He hesitated but the thought of saving hours hunting and gathering pushed him to make the choice. Squinting his eyes, he pecked the enter button and confirmed the choice.
After playing around with some settings, he found he could task the gather-bots to take suggestions from the chef-bots. Setting them to explore and gather, he backed away from the facility controls. He was surprised to see he had spent almost an hour reading and exploring the options to find what he needed. His display was getting perilously close to the seven-day threshold when Nick said he would start to notice things shutting down.
He found that he could upgrade the arena when he reached level ten, and more involved training options could be accessed. It definitely would be on the list. There were an insane amount of items that he never thought he would get to use, but the labs were intriguing. The only problem was that there was no staff to man them. With titles like ‘Spatial translocation amplification,’ ‘Power combinatorics,’ and ‘Biopolymer strength augmentation boosts,’ Gus’ interest was piqued, to say the least, but he tore himself away. He didn’t have time to dwell on this. He needed 3750 XP as quickly as possible.
Realistically, Gus was probably many levels from being able to access the fruits of what the manor had to offer.
He felt better after leaving and entering the elevator. He had to stop obsessing about the far future. Focus on what was important now. That would really be the worst, to have an amazing augmentation that was a hundred levels above his ability to use. It did make Gus wonder what he would do if he had the opportunity to recruit people to help him take full advantage of the manor. That could really be a game changer. But first things first. Best not to get too far ahead of himself, he thought, remembering a typical conversation with his father.
###!###
“Gus, you need to set some reasonable goals for a change,” Tempest lectured.
A fourteen-year-old Gus had mentioned to his father his desire to run for class president. “I think I have some good ideas—”
“All those things are just popularity contests. I know you, Gus. You’re introverted and kind of a loner. Do you really think you can get enough votes? Here’s what will happen. You’ll make a half-hearted effort, then you will lose. Then you will get all sullen and sulk for a couple weeks…”
Gus grit his teeth as a familiar wave of anger built up inside of him as his dad went on and on. Tempest just couldn’t keep from piling on the abuse. Why couldn’t he just believe in me for just once? Isn’t that what fathers should do?
“…you start off strong on one of your ideas, and then you lose steam. It takes a certain kind of person to be a leader, and you haven’t really shown me any of those things. I work with people who lead on a daily basis. It’s not all fun and games.”
“Dad, it’s just class president! There won’t be any decisions more important than what the decorations for the winter dance will be. Sheesh! Maybe I would follow through with more things if you weren’t such an unsupportive energy vampire!” Gus’ knuckles cracked with how hard he had balled his fists.
“That’s it, Gus. Play the victim. Nothing’s
