Factory Reset: Divine Corruption

Chapter Ninety-One

Chapter Ninety-One: Does the Smoke Clear?

Gear-Work was an interesting protogen, that much was for certain. Gear-Work knew this, he was one of the few that almost always remained in the back. The healer, the person that restructured what was lost and fractured. Gear-work, yet again, knew this.

Then why, as he was dragged alongside Bailout and Rallycry on his way to make sure that Ruinate had grabbed the beacon, why was he feeling excitement bubbling in his veins? By all means, this was dangerous. By all means, this was not something that should be desired.

And yes, as Gear-Work thought about everything that has happened to lead up to this moment, he was at peace. He had nothing to regret, he did his part. This was just simply something else to do that'll help save lives. All that mattered to him was saving lives, but he knew the cost this job could bring. Death.

Gear-Work was the silent type. He didn't speak out to mourn the deaths of those individuals on Gold-Standard-1, nor did he raise a finger to his fellow protogen during the events that caused Rip-Cord's demise. Had they affected him? Yes, they did. But he didn't say his woes.

He wasn't a pillar by any stretch. Gear-Work had his place as the healer and mechanic. People could go to Bathysphere, or Renaissance, or Fallout, or even Freefall if they needed to get their minds cleared or to get something off their chest. Gear-Work was always in the back of their minds. Just another member of the crew.

The air felt cold against his fur. A new feeling, he was most accustomed to the air tight, air conditioned dwellings of his operating room and the cafeteria. Even with what was at stake, Gear-Work enjoyed the feeling. It felt good, although it might be the last time he gets to feel it.

There was always the possibility.

Gear-Work's power was an oddball of sorts. Powerful, powered by White-Boson Energy mixed with a few others. The strong ability to reconstruct and deconstruct matter at any level, to anything. Of course, the energy required to do so is very vast. With the overclock serum, it should be a breeze to unleash.

Gear-Work pressed the needle containing the fluid into his gauntlets, allowing the serum to enter his body. He felt a warm shiver snake it's way up his spine, resting just beneath the stem of his brain. There was an odd difference in temperature there. Gear-Work felt it odd.

With his select power, there was an off and on switch. Once that threshold of energy was reached, it was a click. Like the leash that was gripped tightly around his throat had a single chain pop out of place, his ability able to go wild and free.

He could feel the air shift. Materials floating in it: Andesite, ingenious rocks. He could feel everything around him shifting as he glanced at it. Due to the nature of his power, he never really learned to control it in wide bursts. He could do pin-point precise moves, but large areas were of little control to him.

"Magma-" Gear-Work tested out, stretching his arm out to the side - the one that Rallycry wasn't dragging him with - and flexing his claws. In a single instant, a pulse pressed against the rocks, and they were instantly transmuted into a burning pile of flaming hot magma.

"Save it, Gear!" Bailout yelled from the wind that was nearly deafening to them. Gear-Work glanced back at him. Bailout was correct, of course. He had to save this immense power, at least, they think he needs to. Ruinate hadn't returned, they needed to move faster.

They then heard a yell of pain, the thumping of a body against jagged stone, and the sound of tearing flesh not that far ahead. A crackle of purple lighting extended out from Rallycry, acceleration breaching higher and higher, the ability shifting gears to augment their speed relative to the worlds.