Jack, Highfive, and Bo did some basic power demonstrations in the glow of an energetic blue containment field. Part of that was being on the receiving end of powers with the protection of the field allowing for such 'education.' Quickly, Jack saw the difference in levels and raw power in someone like Highfive… but it was more than that. His class, his specialties, his pure athleticism, his lifelong training — everything about him was a slice of a general carving down to the sharpest point.

That point was to smash things, so perhaps 'sharp' wasn't the perfect word for it.

Highfive rammed into Jack like a rhino and sent him flying so far it was like he was free-falling downward, yet he was going horizontal… until, of course, he ate the grass in a tumble, all a process that would've mangled him and broken bones at the very least, were he not protected by a forcefield.

"You didn't scream, at least!" Highfive called from across the way, surrounded in his pink-magenta sheath, grinning with his fists on his hips as the sheath, in the form of a hand, wriggled itself as if getting warmed up. "Most people scream. Good on you, bro. That's why you're Big Iron."

Sitting up, spitting grass out of his mouth — Why did the field not protect against that?! — Jack grunted, feeling the reverb of impact in his bones. "Did Bo scream?"

Standing on the sidelines with her arms crossed, Bo said, "Oh, I was never stupid enough to voluntarily get slammed like that."

"Wh-what?!" Jack coughed an incredulous laugh. "Seriously? All this time?"

"I bet you would've screamed," Highfive said, glancing at Bo and nodding confidently.

Bo just rolled her eyes.

Despite 'Bo's better judgment,' Jack asked for more practice at his expense, to understand Highfive's functions personally. He got 'slapped,' 'flicked,' 'swatted,' and various other rather amazing impacts from a giant psychokinetic hand. It was awesome.

Jack tried his hand at dodging, but was not particularly effective at it. Highfive had decent accuracy, but he had great general speed. Usually, Highfive was too quick, and the width of the attack too wide. On the other hand, Jack could greatly mitigate the impact taken. A few times, he got sideswiped, and when he also rolled with the blow, he more or less successfully endured at least one charge attack. As a supreme fighter and athlete, Highfive was quick to erase that defense with brutal, pivoting follow-ups that ripped up the ground from the momentum shift.

Jack at least got to see the weaknesses of Highfive's power. He definitely did not move as fluidly or as in control as Highfive himself could in just his flesh. That was an exchange for greatly amplified intensity and power. It was legitimately a giant hand. Surprisingly fast under Highfive's operation, especially when conducting his rhino-like charges, but it was still limited in precisely the way one would think it would be.

When Jack pointed this out, Highfive shrugged helplessly with his arms wide, grinning. "Yeah, you got me, bro! This sucker is a bitch to maneuver. It's like a damn bulldozer or something. One of the best things is being close already, because then I center them up, slap down, and they have to dodge the whole width. But if they can make that too easy, I gotta go for the finger plays. The quickest is the thumb flick. Caught a lot of peeps by surprise with it. Sometimes I'll deliberately lead 'em toward my left, just to set up a thumb punch."

He demonstrated by quickly smashing the thumb into the ground, smushing the already abused turf again. When the thumb raised once more, ripping the ground up wantonly, Highfive crossed his arms while floating within the sheath and smiled winningly, his expression conspiratorial. "You wanna know what the Technique is called?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"What?" Jack asked, knowing full well something amazing was about to be uttered.

"Unopposable Thumb." His self-satisfied expression was supreme.

"Ohhhhhh!" Jack pointed emphatically with both hands at Highfive. "You absolute king, having a kingly maneuver with a kingly name! All hail the king!"

Highfive, smug as could be, closed his eyes, nodding, waving a hand up, his other at his chest, accepting the truth of his kingship graciously.

Bo glared at them balefully from across the field, shaking her head. "I hate both of you so much."

Jack did some more defense training of this nature, but he added in his metal as barriers or shields. Without question, the freight train that was Highfive could blow through his defenses, but the blocking metal jammed up momentum and gave Jack more time and space to maneuver, which was enough to occasionally survive both the initial charge and the follow-ups. The key was in the angles — if Highfive was punching right through something dead on, he got creamed, but if he was parried at an oblique angle, the force was redirected enough for Jack to take advantage and slip away.

After the third time of doing this, and the second time out of five, using a heavy shield to 'toro the bull' one direction and dive-roll the other, while screening with a shield that was timed to block Highfive's typical 'thumby' follow-up attack — albeit off-balance — Highfive drew up and began clapping, shaking his head. "Nice moves, man. Can't believe you're stuffing me like that on an initial charge, even occasionally. I guess it's predictable, though."

"He's intuitively figuring out the timing trick," Bo called.

"Timing trick?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

Highfive shrugged. "It's not really a trick. Just a disadvantage of raw, speed-based accuracy. I get that from Augment as opposed to just Control. I don't get enough from Control, and Create is too important, so Control gets the short end of the stick."

"He shirks it and wonders why he feels like he's sluggish while maneuvering," Bo admonished.

"Hey, this is the optimal build, okay?! I've got nothing else to pick at Level 7, so it'll get bumped for the next level up. I'd say I regret my choice of Transmute at Level 2, but who knows what that helped out as I leveled. I think I mostly came out good."

"And what you get from Augment isn't as good as Control?" Jack asked.

Bo was the one to answer, information coming almost robotically. "It's not for general purpose, no. Speed is countered by successful prediction, and this guy can get predictable, like he said. Fortunately, he's a natural athlete, and his physical intuition will inevitably juke out anyone without a hard predictive counter. He sucks ass against Acrobats because they always counter raw speed without control. For others, it just depends. Anything circumstantial is guesswork and is bound to fall apart eventually. You'll see when you fight him continuously. You'll figure him out here and there, but as soon as he reads your read, so to speak, he'll cream you."

"Interesting. So speed is essentially a sub-stat of Control, then?"

"Pretty much. Tantamount to a Technique, like Control-parenthesis-Speed. But that would be hard to actually get through training."

"Actual techniques help fill the gap for me, too," Highfive added. "The benefit of not being main stat Control. Though I hear they have higher caps on their techs, so it probably balances out later on."

"What's your Control, if I can ask, Highfive?" Jack queried.

Highfive grinned. "Hey, the policy is, I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Accid Tea, I mean. Wouldn't want Bo getting too excited."

Bo's lips scrunched together slightly as she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, perhaps inventing a new brand of scathing commentary as a split-second of silence rolled by.

"Fiver, I don't think we should poke this particular bear any further," Jack said, forestalling whatever Bo might unleash, "considering how little filter she has. Have mercy upon us tender morsels, Bo, we beg you." He put his hands in a prayer sign.

Highfive relented and threw his hands to the side to show the same, though not turning around. His sheath, meanwhile, made a 'peace' sign.

Bo glared at Fiver's back but sniffed. "Fine. For you, Jack. But tempt fate again, and the response will be doubled. I may break out the whip."

Fighting off a grin as he nodded in mock gravity, Highfive popped info over to Jack via the System interface. Jack promptly sent his stats to Highfive before checking.

[ 9.2 ] Augment

[ 3.0 ] Control

[ 6.0 ] Create

[ 0.0 ] Interpret

[ 0.0 ] Destroy

[ 1.0 ] Transmute

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Wow," Jack exclaimed, "my Control is already higher than yours."

"Yeah, big surprise, Mr. Controller," Highfive quipped sarcastically. He suddenly brightened, and his tone changed on a dime. "Hey, you got a main stat mutation, right?"

"Yep."

Highfive clenched his fist and grinned. "Hell yeah, bro! It's almost like cheating a level higher! I got lucky with it, too. That's why my main stat is three levels higher."

"So, I take it that the speed benefit isn't all of Augment, then?"

"Nah, that would be OP. Only a fraction. Mostly, it gives me Magnitude and, most importantly for me, Force. How hard I hit, how destructive the concentrated sheath is against resistance."

"What does Create do for you?"

"Sheath volume and width, like the AoE aspects of it — basically, what I have to work with to Augment — and, most importantly, Armor. Like most Bruisers, my secondary stat is my defense, but it's higher depending on the attack type. I'm offense and defense, but I have some weaknesses defensively, and I'm all melee."

Jack nodded. "And I'm potentially both, but technically outside of myself and remaining vulnerable, personally." After a thoughtful pause, he said, "Screening you with my metal shields seems like a basic opener strategy."

"Damn right! Drop the bomb in first, baby! If you counter them, you can follow up with offense or more support. That's like your ideal playground situation, right? You just going to town from cover. I'd love to see it, bro." He grinned. "Whatever shit the enemy has as a monkeywrench, our Monkey Wrench can monkeywrench instead! Wait. No. I mean… yeah. I did say the right number of monkeywrenches, didn't I?"

"I believe so, yes. Our monkey wrench monkeywrenches their attempted monkeywrenches. Makes perfect sense."

"Cool. Anyway, not a bad basic strat, right?"

"Probably. If you completely tank the enemy offense, I might need to stay defensive, though. Can material be inside your field? As in through it."

"Nope. It gets pushed out unless I focus carefully. Usually, to move it onto my person, on the other side."

"So, you can carry metal for me, though, right?"

"Sure thing. And you can probably morph it a little or pop it off. Getting it back on me when it's off is more complicated. In combat, anyway."

"Hmm. I could even do armor…"

Highfive shrugged. "We already get armor. The light sealed suit getup, and a thicker vest that is about as good as the jacket would be, but has more gaps. Mine has to be custom to unclench when my sheath needs to emit. It doesn't pass through as easily as most powers. Something about the intensity and focal range. Otherwise, I need porous material. My field itself is sealed, though. Even filters air contaminants."

"I can make porous metal, I think. One way or another. Stronger than typical, naturally."

Highfive rubbed his chin. "Hmm. Maybe over the torso and head couldn't hurt. As for the face, I think the standard faceplate is hard to beat for the field of vision and all."

"Oh, I get it, trust me. Transparency is king there. I wouldn't outfit myself any differently, honestly, other than the porous aspect."

"You can suit up Bo fully, though. Make her look like a damn medieval knight out there."

"Yeah. Just imagine how intimidating she'd be stalking forward. Clonk. Clonk. Clonk."

"Tempting, but I'll pass on that," Bo called as she approached them. "Now go sit down, Fiver. Time for Jack to feel what it's like to get monkeywrenched."

Highfive winced and gave Jack a sympathetic look as he let his sheath dissipate, and he dropped to the ground. "I'm glad I'm not you, right now."

"He's exaggerating."

"Is he, though?" Jack asked uncertainly as he watched what increasingly seemed like a demonic imp approach. Or was it a gremlin? She didn't change appearance, but there was something there when she spawned her Allotment. He didn't sense it acutely like he did others… he had to see her, but he could tell she'd done it.

Bo squinted her eyes at Jack's reaction as she parked herself in front of him. "You detected it? Impressive for a material-based type."

Highfive paused as he was walking off to the side. "Wait, what?"

"Nothing, Mr. Interpret Zero," Jack said.

"Hey, man, that stat would be a waste for me!"

Ignoring him, Jack nodded to Bo. "Go ahead and show me the worst that you can do, disrupting someone physically."

Bo's eyebrows rose. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

Highfive cupped his hands around his mouth and called, "Come on, bro! Earn that Big Iron name and fame!"

"That's not my name, Fiver!"

"Okay," Bo said, "bring yourself to your general operational output, first."

Jack amped himself up to 90%. Not directing it anywhere, that put a hazy memorite cloud around him. "So, that helps?"

"Of course. It also allows me to get a feel for what you're working with. It's pointless to attack you from my own maximum, considering I'm closing in on Level 6. I'll let you feel what I can reasonably dish out, if I had the advantage of a Level or so."

"Alright. Hit me."

Jack felt the briefest sense of resistance to something foreign stabbing into him from too many angles, and then he dropped, seizing and shaking like he'd been hit with an electric stunner. "Buh-bleh buh-bleh bleh bleeeugh…" Just as his breath totally left him in dramatic, blubbery fashion, the effect tapered off, and he sucked in breath, jerking his body to sit up, extremely disoriented.

Highfive was doubled over some distance away, laughing his lungs out.

Bo had a bit of an amused expression as she said, "Do you always make exceptionally strange sounds when senseless?"

Jack grunted instead of answering, shaking himself, slapping his own cheek once, and finally rising with a groan. He stretched his arms around, feeling a bit stiff in the joints. He was mostly functional. "Welp, that's a death sentence if you have the advantage and someone is nearby to capitalize."

"If they're also isolated, if they also aren't trained or have natural abilities by various means, to react better autonomously. In most scenarios, a team will rush in to protect. Meanwhile, if it isn't successfully capitalized on, I just wasted significant energy. In a vacuum, a greater number of chances, feeling my way through, is a safer bet. Tugs here and there are much harder to predict. That being said, I'd love to be part of any takedown. That was Light and me at our best."

Highfive raised his hand. "Um, I think yours truly had something to do with that, too, you know!"

Bo ignored him. "Anyway, not having the advantage comparatively, that disable would be much briefer, and they may adjust even as they are dropping. Not very effective on Acrobats, for instance, who recover quickly. Not without perfect timing."

"I'd think you would really good against them," Jack said, "considering how they thread the wire or whatever."

"I can counter them only hypothetically, and by burning more energy than normal. Unfortunately, Acrobats always have cooldown saves I can't stop. You know, barely dodging the biggest attacks by the skin of their teeth? They'll always get away at least once, and maybe that one you thought was the cooldown actually wasn't. Ugh! Unless you stealth-kill their asses, you have to overwhelm their defenses. I can hopefully force it out, but then we gotta set shit up again to take advantage."

"Sounds like we have a bit of a weakness against them," Jack said.

"Dodge tanks are the worst!" Highfive called.

"Lighthouse wasn't Control-based, either," Bo offered. "Paradoxical as it might seem. It was especially impossible for her because of the delay. If her weaker attacks weren't good enough, we needed Fiver to handle it, and if I couldn't secure him an opening for whatever reason, it was over. Even with me, it wasn't ideal with him doing it. On top of the issue of being melee, he is not really a timing guy."

Jack nodded slowly. "So, I might have a better shot?"

"By an order of magnitude. It's an option, at least…"

"... but we still could use another offensive option."

Bo and Jack nodded in sync.

"Hey, I love the idea!" Highfive called. "Let me do my thing while the big brains conspire? Hell yeah!"

"I'm so thrilled you approve, Fiver," Bo offered.

Jack actually had a potential applicant idea brewing. Maybe it was a long shot, maybe it wouldn't work, but it was an idea. He could at least ask. It would be better to do so before broaching it to the team.

"Let me show you the rest of the disruption repertoire," Bo stated, as she narrowed her eyes and fanned out interlaced fingers, thereby cracking her knuckles.

Jack grinned wryly. "Can't wait."

Bo proceeded to show him the micro and macro effects of her power. She could invariably trip him up with the tiniest thread of effort, catching him while he was moving and jamming up a leg. And then: ploof! He was rolling in the grass. In doing it, Bo was not flashy. She stared murder, she gave off discordant vibes, something like loud music just under audible range, and her fingers twisted or went jammed-up at her sides, but she otherwise didn't move.

After seeing this simple muscular disruption multiple times and seeing Bo begin to sweat, they moved on to powers. Jack began morphing some metal into shape, and Bo swept her power through like a wave. The metal froze just like it was and dropped to the ground. For a moment, his memorite scattered randomly, feeling like the particles had all up and decided to rebel and go live somewhere else. It made his head pretty screwy, though it didn't technically stun him. A moment later, he had control again.

Bo topped her demonstration off by having Jack prepare a volley of darts and told him to try hitting her with them. When he asked if she was sure, she flashed the briefest grin and nodded.

That alone shook him a bit. She'd never grinned like that.

Soon, they stood across from each other… It was like a Showdown at High Noon; it was the samurai poised before unleashing the deadly Iaijutsu. He stood with his control gripping the darts, watching her eyes and knowing she was waiting, her power like a whip right before it was snapped. He felt like it was looming right over his face.

Much like a mook in a showdown against the Western protagonist, much like the lesser samurai who was going to flinch first, Jack was pretty psyched out. That damned unflinching stare; that baleful aura radiating. Suddenly, her perfection of that unwavering glare in her daily life made so much sense. Caught like that, against an ultimate poker face, he could only respect the sheer honing of a vital skill. That it was deliberate intimidation was unquestionable.

He knew that he was screwed.

His only option was to go for the surprise factor. Attempting to give no tells, he went for it on a dime from sheer stillness, utilizing Throw to-

It felt like his entire Allotment suddenly scrambled and was tossed to the winds. The darts dropped out of the air instantly.

Jack blinked. His vision blurred a bit, and he had a mild headache, but that was all. Gradually, his power control returned to him, memorite swirling around him. Bo was wiping her sweaty brow on her shirt sleeve, a very satisfied look on her face.

"Okay," Jack said. "You're officially scary, lady."

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