Before we go in for the second try, I decide it's time to bank some points. We're over the threshold for Durability, and I'd rather not lose to something like spears through my body again. Crystallized Barrier and Verdant Armor alone are powerful defensive skills, but as far as I could determine, they weren't quite enough when facing the Seedmother. The sheer amount of power in its attacks...
No. I need a third skill, I think. Something I can use against the Seedmother to survive the incredible variety of destructive skills it seems to possess. Besides, better to bank the credits now so that any new credits I earn in these fights go toward the next skill, and not just a chance for a better one in this roll.
[Are you sure you wish to bank 1,014 Durability credits?]
[1,014 Durability credits banked! Rolling for results...]
Diamond Carapace (Rank S Physical Upgrade)
Impermeability (Rank S Physical Upgrade)
Adamant Bones (Rank S Physical Upgrade)
Phase Metabolism (Rank S Physical Upgrade)]
"Kind of," he says, seeming a little uncertain about it. "I've seen the Interface offer a physical upgrade as a reward before, but not from banking credits. It's usually a reward for clearing a dungeon or something. And they're usually... optional."
I glance at the floating screen in front of me. "Doesn't seem that optional, this one," I say dryly.
"No," Ahkelios agrees with a solemn little frown. He hops closer, reaching out as if to touch the Interface window before withdrawing, as though remembering it's not his. "Does Inspect work on them?"
"It does." In fact, Inspect gives me a pretty clear image of how each of the options will change me. Diamond Carapace will quite literally give me an insectoid shell, and I dismiss that out of hand immediately—my link with the Knight already covers that angle, and I'm not all that interested in a permanent, visible change.
I'm not prepared for the Interface to change me quite that much, and if I have to accept some changes, I'd like for them to be minimal.
The others are a little more acceptable in that they won't change how I look. Impermeability is exactly what it says on the tin—it's an immunity of sorts to stabbing and penetrating attacks. That would technically save me from getting killed via beetle-leg-to-the-face again, except it doesn't really change anything about the inside of my body, and all that would happen is that I'd have my bones and organs crushed inside my perfectly intact skin.
I shudder a little at the idea. No, I don't think I'll be picking that one, either.
Adamant Bones and Phase Metabolism are the most interesting of the lot. Mostly because, like Impermeability, Adamant Bones promises to make my bones virtually indestructible—which seems more useful than just making my skin indestructible, depending on how the force of a blow moves through my skeleton. And Phase Metabolism...
I wince. It would be an easy pick if not for the physical change that accompanied it, and even that I would've been willing to accept if that change weren't so much of a glaring weakness.
It's a... Firmament sac, for lack of a better term. The change would allow me to biologically process Firmament and use it to alter aspects of my body—speeding up healing or forcing myself to metabolize a poison, for instance. The problem is almost entirely in the fact that it would manifest as an easy-to-target, glowing sac, and taking a hit in it would be debilitating.
The prospect of the upgrade is still tempting, if only because of how much I might be able to learn about Firmament, but if this is an option at all then I'm going to guess that there are similar creatures in the Empty City or elsewhere. Knowing that it's physically possible is enough of a start for me to look into it. Even the Seedmother processes Firmament, technically, although I imagine it's not going to be easy to figure out how until we defeat it.
I sigh and make my choice.
[Adamant Bones obtained!]
The wave of pain is more or less expected, and I'm already gritting my teeth by the time it starts. It feels like a vibration in my bones—like the sound of a powerful bass ripping through my skeleton and making it rattle against my flesh. My vision blurs, and I would have collapsed to my knees if not for Guard reaching out to catch me. He holds me gently, like he's afraid I'll break.
I'm not that weak. I don't get the chance to say it, though, because anything I try to say comes out like I'm speaking into a spinning fan; the sound emerges warped and distorted, and I give up after a moment.
This is fine. It's comfortable enough.
The intense shaking rattling through my body settles after a moment. I have to blink away the doubled vision, and there's an ache in my muscles that tells me this change did some real, physical damage to my body. More than that, I feel like I'm a little larger than before, a little taller...
"The Interface does not respect its Trialgoers." There's something in Guard's voice that's more than disapproving. He sounds almost... upset.
"It never has," I reply with a shrug. I try for a stretch, wincing as I feel every muscle scream in protest—but I'm not immobile. This is minor damage at best, and in a moment or two I should be healed enough to fight again.
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On the second try, we lose.
The new Durability-based change helps, but it's not as much of a game-changer as I hoped. Not for the fight against the Seedmother, at least. It has a lot more skills than any of us expected, even with the information I got from using The Road Not Taken. Besides the black hole, the spear, and the lightning, it has skills that manipulate all the vines and tendrils around us—and there are so many more of those things than I expected.
Seriously. Those roots seem to be embedded all over the city, digging into every street and structure. I'd spend time ruminating on it if not for the fact that most of my attention has to go toward trying to stay alive.
In the back of his mind, Guard began to wonder. In the back of his mind, a certain artificial intelligence began recording every permutation of that circuitry, linking each set of patterns with their observed results.
Circuitry was something he could copy.
Maybe he wasn't stuck with his limits.
If Ethan had taught him anything, it was that the impossible was just another thing to punch through.