In the scuffle, the man tripped over a water bottle, giving Gus the upper hand, and he smothered the pirate until he passed out like the first. Quickly releasing the weave, Gus checked that the man was still breathing. He dragged him out of sight and bound and gagged him with ether.
Even after waiting a couple hours for their mates, it appeared the other pirates were cagey and would not leave the boat. They were clearly agitated but only paced and shielded their eyes as they scanned the jungle.
Gus would have to go on the offensive. As he approached the boat, he noticed that their mouths did not sync up with what they were saying, like a poorly-dubbed foreign film. Sometimes there would be long stretches where their mouths were moving but Gus heard no translation at all.
“Nick, how come—”
“I’m keeping it PG-13 for your oh-so-sensitive ears, remember? If you want, I can give their direct translations, or substitute some of your standard pseudo-swear words if you like. Shut the front door! Got down, sat on a bench! You fricking, flipping, fetching, frelling, frakker!”
“No, that would be even more annoying than usual, thanks.”
“You didn’t even let me get to Fraggle Rock, fudge nuggets, or tartar sauce…” Nick said petulantly.
Gus was evaluating his skills, and they didn’t offer a lot of functionality for non-lethal combat. Still, he had an idea. Getting in position, Gus activated T-Wrecks behind the ship, with the construct being just deep enough to leave the top half of its body exposed. The beast bellowed and all the men rushed to the back of the ship to meet the threat. They fired wildly at the construct, who gnashed and waded towards them.
Gus rushed onboard the ship, his steps hidden amid the rattle of gunshots. Straining to split his ether in four ways, Gus snatched all the men simultaneously with an ether bubble over their heads. He hoisted them over the edge and dunked them under the water, holding them there.
Only one of the men appeared to keep hold of his gun, and he fired a couple muffled shots underwater before he too let go of his weapon.
Gus strained to hold the weaves and pulled the men out of the water as he felt his control slipping. He didn’t want to accidentally drown them, so he held them above the water, straining to position them above the beach. Gus’ ears began to ring as he held onto the weaves.
“Don’t cross the streams,” he snarled between gritted teeth as he struggled to hold the weaves in place until all the men were knocked out.
Two men succumbed quickly, while the other two thrashed violently, then weakly as they drifted into unconsciousness, expending the available oxygen in their bubbles. A chime sounded and Gus let go. They crumpled to the sand like rag dolls. Gus had to flip one who had fallen face first, but he appeared to only have a face-full of sand.
After tying them up with ether, Gus was struck with the most intense splitting headache of his life. His MP and stamina were only partially depleted, but his poor brain was not accustomed to that type of focus. After a lot of massaging his temples and the bridge of his nose, the icepick-like pain subsided and he could focus on his display and logs again.
You have leveled up the skill: Ether Weaving to Level 4!
750 XP awarded.
1,500 FP awarded.
860 XP to level 15.
You have unlocked a subskill of Ether Weaving: Incapacitate (Level 1).
Incapacitate (Level 1): Subdue an attacker by restricting their oxygen flow through an ether weave. Success rates decrease by 10% per level for stronger opponents.
100 XP awarded.
200 FP awarded.
760 XP to level 15.
It took another ten minutes to recuperate and feel like a normal functioning human. Superhuman? Nothing was normal anymore. Gus got to his feet, brushing the sand off. It was time to see how the original owners of the boat were doing.
Chapter Four
Aurora
Bodyguards filed out of the elevator and took their positions flanking the doors. A thin, almost skeletal man in long silver robes stepped off the lift. Brad tried not to stare at the exaggerated coif of white hair that was obviously very thin but styled to fluff it and give it artificial volume.
“Report,” the old man croaked, and Brad explained all that happened. When he mentioned his own personal message, the man’s passive expression contorted into an unsettling rictus. “And what motivated you to do such a thing?”
Brad lowered his eyes to avoid the maniacal stare the leader of Manticorps directed at him. “I wanted to scare them,” he said, the explanation sounding idiotic when it came from his own mouth. He deepened his voice and looked the old man in the eyes. “To let them know they shouldn’t mess with Manticorps, or they will face the consequences.” He looked expectantly at the leader; maybe this would be enough to convince someone to get him out of this dungeon.
“So you took it upon yourself to warn them that we would soon be arriving. After over forty years, we have no idea of the advancements the Traitor has made. He might take this as an act of aggression and attack us first!” Archon said, anger leaking around the feigned smile and civility in his voice. “We have much to do!”
He spun, his silver cape billowing with the motion. Reaching backward, he let loose a bright flash of energy from his extended palm. Where Brad had been standing, a small charred pile of dust remained, which was stomped flat as the bodyguards resumed formation and exited via the elevator, surrounding their leader.
Aurora lifted her head and surveyed the darkness. Time had lost its meaning with the lack
