“I’m listening,” Gus said, folding his arms.
“When you were about seven and a half, your brother got his powers. You probably don’t know how a legacy super gets powers, but basically the sponsor has to essentially give part of themself to complete the process. It leaves the donor drained—”
“So they give up some of their Nth?”
Tempest’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that? Never mind. No time to discuss it now. It may save me some verbal dancing, however. Yes, the donor gives up roughly half of their Nth to someone. The donating super loses a significant amount of levels; both total levels and skill levels are lost as the donor has less of their original Nth to support their abilities.”
“Why don’t they just fabricate some more?”
“How? You think they just grow on trees? There are only five known facilities that can produce Nth in the world, and the resources are extremely scarce. Anyway, I’m getting off track. The plan was for your mother to do the same with you when you came of age. Ideally, it is best for someone to undergo this process when they are around eighteen or so—after puberty and most major growth spurts have finished. Your brother was a little early. The rationale is that occasionally some Nth get dedicated to mere stat augmentation, which is not as useful in the long run because stats will naturally develop as a super levels up, and often as an adjunct with certain skills. More abilities mean more opportunities. Most supers have around six. I personally have eight, which is high.” He paused, and took a deep breath and leaned forward.
“Really, eight is high,” Gus said skeptically.
“Don’t worry, being this new I’m sure you have one or two abilities tops. Don’t get discouraged; it can take years to develop abilities. But let’s stay focused on you. What happened next was kind of a perfect storm of bad coincidences. We were at your grandfather’s house. You wouldn’t know this, and I’m sure he never told you, but his super moniker was The Extractor. He had the ability to sap a super’s stats and transfer them to other supers, usually distilled into a tonic. This may be hard to understand, but information can be condensed into actual physical matter.”
“You don’t say…” Gus smirked, thinking of the Mandrite crystal.
“The process actually created a tiny crystal, but he could grind this into glitter-sized flakes and the information was not compromised. Anyone drinking these elixirs could supercharge their Nth, as they were able to upgrade themselves with the concentrated specialized information.” Tempest shook his head. “I’m not sure if any of this is making sense—”
“No, go on, it makes perfect sense.”
“Okay, well, you managed to make it into grandpa’s secret stash and, jealous of your older brother’s new powers, you drank the entire lot trying to ‘be like Alan.’ Without Nth to process the information, your own cells and DNA tried to assimilate it and the results almost killed you. If it weren’t for your mother’s abilities you would have died that day.
“She managed to stabilize the effects but when one issue was treated, another would manifest. It was all she could do to keep you alive. I don’t think she slept for three days and she was at the end of her stamina and we had depleted all of our stamina regen resources. In desperation, we contacted Dr. Weft.
“I won’t go into the specifics right now, but a deal was struck. He could use dimensional folding to bury the affected areas until you could tolerate your own Nth, but it would be tenuous. For some reason, endorphins can prematurely trigger the effect. Dr. Weft actually emphasized that it was best if you were kept in states of stress or anger, as cortisol and adrenaline had a suppressive effect and would maintain the folds he had crafted.
“However, if you got overly excited or happy, you could relapse. For that reason, I tried to keep you away from things that could possibly set you off, and I know I came across as an asshole. I was. I felt I had to be to keep you safe and I know that was hard for you. I hated doing it but I realize I held you back and crushed a lot of dreams and aspirations. I hated Dr. Weft. I still hate him. For making me do all of this, and for the price he made me pay. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Go on.” Gus cleared his throat, the revelation hitting him like a physical blow.
“Yes, yes, I’m getting ahead of myself. The worst part was that the memories of what had happened right after involved your mother almost exclusively. Those had to be buried as well, and an unintended side effect was that not only were the memories of your mother trying to heal you suppressed, but almost all of your memories of her. When we saw what had happened, your brother and I had to go along with your assumption that she had died, fearing relapse from what would happen when you found out the truth.”
“So that’s why I can’t remember anything from that time?”
“Yes. When you were ready, the work Dr. Weft did would be slowly reversed, allowing you to access the upgrades, and the information could be translated in a controlled manner by Nth working with your own cells to handle the stat upgrades. One stat that could not be hidden or folded by Dr. Weft were increases to luck.
“There are certain cells that have special affinities for certain stats. Intelligence for fatty tissues that make the brain, spinal cord, and nerves. Strength for muscles and certain hormone glands, like the adrenals. Luck is an anomaly and has no affinity, and as such is dispersed throughout the body with no apparent
