I wake up to bright skies and a warm breeze on a lazy morning in the first half of May. Chloe is already out and about, doing her rounds in the infirmary like the angel she is, tending to those wounded and sick, whether their injuries are caused by System-enhanced beasts or the ordinary injuries and illness of everyday life.

  I, meanwhile, am sleeping in, enjoying a lazy morning, the first in over a month, and probably the last for quite some time. After weeks of early mornings and late nights, after meals little more nutritious than ramen and granola, after burning both ends of the candle, both physically and mentally, the day is finally here. My arm just needs a few finishing touches, and then it will be time for me to once again take the battlefield and continue my pursuit for the power to fulfill my ultimate mission.

  Though, I think taking some time to show off a bit and stress-test the limits of my arm’s capabilities is a worthwhile endeavor before I jump back into the fray.

  I grab my pack and all my belongings, something that has become quite a bit easier as I’ve adjusted to my new life as a living slot machine. Rather than scarfing down my food of biscuits and gravy like the madwoman that I may be, I take the time to enjoy breakfast calmly. I even savor the taste of the southern-style breakfast and the apple juice that so nicely complements it. And yes, I do get seconds.

  I make my way over to the robotics and engineering building, arriving at half past eight down to the minute. By this point, even without an official student ID card of my own, I’m well-enough known to be let in on my own recognizance. Then again, I’m not sure how much physical security like doors and locks really mean to someone with enough [Strength] to punch through glass and the [Vitality] to do so with minimal injury. Or just utilize the power of [Unlock] to bypass the obstacle altogether without causing a massive amount of collateral damage, ruining multiple people’s days, and destroying the goodwill that I’ve built for saving Ft. Still from the antoid hordes.

  I’m greeted by Patrick, with whom I’ve developed a friendly working rapport. Partially through familiarity, and partially because, unlike some in the department, he’s treated me both with respect and dignity. No attempts to denigrate my abilities, no lewd or otherwise inappropriate remarks about me or my body. Truly, whichever guy or girl or otherwise he ends up with, should he be inclined to romance, will be lucky to have him.

  “Today’s the big day?” he asks.

  I sigh. “We’ve triple-checked all the glyphs, tested the various logic gates, and I’ve spent the last four days stress-testing everything I can think might be a concern. I’m not going to say that I’m certain this is going to work, especially after the little mishap last week. But I’m ready to do final tests.”

  “Little mishap?” Patrick says. “If that’s what you call a little mishap, I’m not sure what you would call catastrophic failure.”

  “Loss of a limb is the floor on that sort of thing in my mind. I didn’t even lose anything beyond Chloe’s ability to heal!”

  “Right, right.” He does not understand the philosophy of ‘not taking a risk, is itself a risk’ in the slightest. “Anyway, you’re sure about this?”

  “I am.” And I truly mean it. It’s something I want to do. Not just because it’ll make me stronger, better able to face the challenges ahead. As I grip the alloyed metal arm and envision myself bonding to it, it reminds me a bit of the old Seraphina, the biomechanical construct. Some part of her lives on in me. And that part of her desperately wants to start rebuilding my body in that manner, blending technology within my organic form. It excites me, even if the methods are crude and a far cry from where I feel I ought to be.

  “Well, we’re not going to be doing our demonstration here,” he says. “Let’s head over to the football stadium.”

  “How big of an audience am I going to be expecting?” I’m more than a little ambivalent about performing before a live stadium audience. At least it won’t be a crowd of eighty-thousand cheering fans all screaming at the top of their lungs. Goddesses, I surely hope not! There’s a difference between building a following and having the eyes of the entire world upon you. I don’t know how all the big league players do it. I guess millions of dollars helps.

  “Probably no more than a couple hundred or so.”

  He sounds so nonchalant about the whole thing. I guess it’s not him getting up and performing on the field for everyone. Nonetheless, I have no choice, and so the two of us are making our way across campus and into the stadium in short order.

  Campus is pretty quiet, all things considered. Finals are going on, and the students out and about are in a predictable state of nervousness as they make their last-minute preparations before their exams later in the week. At least, there’s no further sources of stress or anxiety weighing most of them down. The attack from five weeks ago is a painful memory for those who bore witness to it, but even that is beginning to fade from memory. And just as back home, people are doing their best to adjust to the new normal of their world.

  The stadium is, thankfully, quite far from packed. We make our way inside and onto the field, where I see about two hundred people sitting in the front rows or standing along the sidelines of the field. Chloe is there, along with Lindsey and some other folk who are wearing the insignia of the medical school. And plenty of the robotics, engineering, and materials science students, including quite a few undergraduates. It makes my heart sing as I realize that my work might be kickstarting the development of Ethertech as a scientific discipline. More importantly, I’ve ensured that the basic concepts are kept firmly in civilian hands, away from the classified annals of the military and so called national ‘security’ apparatus.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  I offer a wave to the crowd as I grab my new arm out of my bag and make my way over to the fifty yard line, eliciting a round of polite applause from the onlookers. At last, the moment of truth has arrived.

  I pull my sleeve up, revealing my shoulder stump and the two half-glyphs tattooed upon it. We decided to go for a pair of [Lock] glyphs to fasten it more tightly upon my shoulder, alongside some additional latches for physical restraint. Everything is locked in place, and the [Ether] sluices that connect my body to the arm are aligned perfectly. It all feels right, and the connection to my stump is precise. No chafing, no awkward gaps, everything smooth and comfortable down to machine precision.

  One more deep breath. I clear my head and wait. Everything has been checked more times than I can count, first by me, then by other researchers and scientists and engineers, and then again by me to ensure that all the glyphs and other Ethertech components are properly drawn and inscribed within. This is it. It’s either going to work, explode, or be a complete dud. And of the latter two, I’m not sure which is worse.

  I activate the glyphs and channel [Ether] into the arm. It’s an odd feeling. A sense of… not quite rightness washes over me as the glyphs and the tens of thousands of interconnect linking runes start to activate. It’s not the same not quite rightness that I’ve felt ever since the System arrived. Both are not correct, but in opposite ways. Yet another indication that I’m supposed to be some hybrid of woman and machine.

  My arm glows with the characteristic blue sluices of Ethertech as I move it around. Long, slow shoulder swivels at first. Even though the arm is firmly attached to my socket and shoulder blade alike, it still moves as freely as my purely organic one did. Back and forth I stretch, acclimating my brain and body and [Ether] circuits with the operation of my prosthetic device.

  My elbow joint is next. Unlike the human variation, designed over hundreds of millions of years of evolution, no one saw any need to limit it to a hinge joint. Instead, it’s designed as a full ball-and-socket, capable of about three hundred degrees of motion. Particularly useful considering the main offensive capability built into it.

  The hand is designed similarly to a human hand, mostly for ease of adapting my mind to using it. I test the opposability of my thumb, pressing it against my index finger, then my middle, then ring, then pinkie, then wiggling them all back and forth a few times. The one alteration I did request relates to the degree of flexion of the non-thumb fingers. Each of them can extend backward about sixty degrees as well as curl up around my palm. A small and fairly easy alteration to make, and I can see the usefulness in grabbing objects at high speeds. Especially right now, while my synching to the device isn’t quite at a hundred percent.

  A final check of the wrists and everything feels good. It’s all functioning according to specification, well within preestablished tolerances. Some tests follow. I’m able to lift about eighty-five pounds in a bicep curl, a bit more than the seventy-eight I can do with my right arm. Grip strength is nearly triple what it is for my organic arm. Punching speed and force is about fifty-percent greater, though some of that might just be that my left arm is— or was— dominant, and some aspect of that might have carried over. Everything is good so far.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have any way to register pain with the artificial arm. On the one hand, yay! I’d love so much to be able to get rid of the monthly pains in my abdomen and the more common pain in my temples and the back of my neck while I’m at it. But pain is important for recognizing injury and avoiding peril, and repairing this arm isn’t going to be particularly fast or cheap. Nor do I imagine Chloe’s magic is going to work on it. I do have some copies of the schematics, as a failsafe, and the department will be keeping a copy as well for research, but I’d rather let this remain a case of ‘have and not need’.

  A quick glance over my [Ether] reveals that my current use isn’t quite eclipsing my regeneration. I will have to deactivate my arm for a couple of hours after each fight to restore it, though. Obviously, I will have to detach it at night as well as to clean it from time to time. Still, it’s good we were efficient enough with the overall design to make it practical on the battlefield, not just as an idle demonstration.

  The final test awaits, the most explosive of all. I’ve incorporated the schematics of my [Modular Blowgun] into my arm itself. The muzzle and barrel are located within the forearm, from the elbow joint down to the tip of my index finger, which opens with a mental command. The upper arm contains a supply of [Ether Bullets], as well as the loading mechanism, while a small [Impulse] glyph in the elbow socket itself serves as the source of propulsion.

  We decided this was the best design, although I no longer have the ability to fire my weapon sans glyphs if my [Ether] ever runs low. Tradeoffs. Always tradeoffs.

  I prepare my body for impact as I point my finger toward the targets before me. A [Lightning Bullet] flies into a blob of ballistics gel, causing it to spasm and then explode. Goop flies everywhere as the crowd erupts in laughter and applause. I can’t help but break into a grin

  Next I try the [Repulsion] setting. I’m pushed backward from the recoil, but not so much that I can’t quickly recover. It flies until it just grazes its target, at which point, I unleash the explosive force contained within. The cube of gel is flattened like a griddle cake, and though it tries to bounce back, the structural damage is done.

  One last setting to test, in accordance with my arm’s new feature. No additional glyphs this time, but instead, I fire a rapid-fire of ten shots in quick succession, all aimed at the same target. And again, it works flawlessly, with no deformations to the barrel or the rest of my hand to speak of.

  Tiny grooves within the joint allow my arm to exhaust excess pressure and heat, all while continuing to rain hell down upon my target. Further, the precision of the glyph formation embedded within has significantly reduced the cost of [Ether] per bullet to a far more manageable fifteen per shot. Almost one hundred per battle. I want to revel in how much that is, compared with where I was before. But I know it’s not nearly enough. Not for what’s still out there, waiting for me.

  I finish my demonstration to a round of applause, but I know the real test is still ahead, exploring how this arm handles [Glyphcasting]. That, however, will have to wait for a different day, and a much, much larger stage. For now, I enjoy my two new System notifications as I head back to where the others are watching.

  [You have equipped [Mechanical Arm-Cannon]. Attack +105]

  [Your [Ether Bullet (Rank X)] has evolved to [Ether Bullet Barrage (Rank I)] and has been added as a class skill. [Ether Bullet Barrage]: As the Skill [Ether Bullet], but allows its wielder to compress and fire [Ether Bullets] at greatly increased speed. Cost per bullet decreases and speed of compression and firing increases as Skill increases in rank.]