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Baptism 1.5

Dad looked over the altar curiously.

"So, these things collect energy, and when people pray to you near them, you get even more energy? Which you can then use to do some nifty things, or make nifty Tinkertech? Is that about right?"

"Yeah."

"And you're worried the PRT and general public will be scared if they think the people praying to you get Mastered."

"Yeah."

"Do they get Mastered?"

"I don't think so."

He scratched his head.

"Well, how does the praying work? Is there anything specific that needs to be said or done?"

"It doesn't matter what you ask for in the prayer, or if you ask for anything at all, or how you say it. It just has to be a thought specifically directed towards me, the altar, or an idea or title that unambiguously represents me, and has to be in the form of a prayer—a request for help or blessing—or just saying that you believe in me."

"Well, Taylor, I definitely believe in you," he said with chuckle. "You're going to make me proud."

A small white ankh icon with a green outline appeared over his head. He became a [Friendly Unit]. I glanced up at my own floating marker until my stats appeared again, to see that my Power was flickering between ~92 and ~93. With these numbers, I'd need a lot of followers to make a big difference.

"So did it work?" Dad asked, oblivious to the stat window, and apparently not able to see my ankh marker either.

I nodded.

"Well that was easy. Do you get more energy if I keep 'praying'?" He asked making air quotes, as if holding back a grin.

"Yes. Devout followers are more valuable than those that don't ever pray after the first time," I said. My power informed me then that when a [Friendly Normal Unit] prayed non-stop, they could provide an estimated increase in Power of anywhere between 100 to 1000 for the duration of the praying. So at the higher end, that was ten times the basic rate the altar gathered mana for me naturally, if they prayed the whole 24 hours. Yeah, a devout follower was way more valuable than somebody who just added a couple of points each day. Not like anyone was going to pray 24 hours straight, but just half an hour of prayer might be equivalent to a full [Friendly Normal Unit]'s passive contribution even on the lower end. Half an hour might sound like a long time for one person to be praying, but if it was in the form of say, a church-led service, then it could easily run an hour long or more.

"Valuable, huh? Do you need donations too?" He asked jokingly, and I laughed.

"As a matter of fact, I could really use donations of gold and silver…"

He raised an eyebrow. Then he looked at the altar a bit more closely. His fingers ran over the offering plate.

"Taylor…where did you get the gold to make this…?"

Even with my [Heroism], I still felt embarrassed. "Um…I found it?"

He looked unimpressed, tapping the plate with his finger.

"Okay, I took apart some old stuff that was in the attic."

"Kiddo, the only gold and silver things we have in the house belonged to your mother."

I looked down. "I know. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just had to build the altar. I can't do anything without it."

He sighed and patted me on the head.

"Nevermind, Taylor. I've heard of this kind of thing happening to Tinkers. Some kind of fugue state? They get the urge to build things and forget everything else."

I didn't have the heart to correct him. I wasn't sure exactly, if that was what happened either. The altar was just the first thing I had to build, and I was desperate to confirm whether I had real powers. Was I being driven by my power like other Tinkers were?

It honestly didn't seem that way, when I made the Armlet of Heroism. I just took a random armlet, prepared my mana into the proper formations, drew a magic circle, did some motions in front of the altar, chanted a language I didn't recognize—what?

Wow.

I just realized that I did a bunch of things while enchanting the item that I didn't even consciously notice.

After that, we had the inevitable conversation about what I was planning to do.

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the Wards? If you're upfront and honest about how your power works, I don't think they'd have a problem with it. You don't even have to tell them. From the sounds of it, you can just keep making your Tinkertech if you have the materials, right? You'd get paid as a Ward, so you could use that to get the gold and silver you need. No need to say anything about praying," he said as we walked back downstairs.

"I haven't fully decided yet. Before this morning, I didn't know how the energy collected from prayers compares. It would make a lot of sense to join the Wards for the resources they can give me, but in the long-term, it might limit what I can do. My powers can still grow. A lot. I don't know exactly what it would look like yet, but I know its going to need orders of magnitude more energy, and there's a limit to how much energy I can collect naturally without prayers, or building the buildings."

"Building the buildings?" Dad looked taken aback, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

"Right, I forgot to mention that. I can collect a lot more energy if I build a proper shrine or temple."

"Oh…okay. That's a very strange power you have. Don't think I've heard of a cape architect before. But you know what, these all seem like they'd only be a problem long into the future. Couldn't you just quit the Wards then if it really doesn't work out? And, most importantly, you'd be safer. I'd be less worried if you had professional support."

I thought carefully about what he suggested, and found that there was some truth to it. Why had I been so against joining the Wards?

Putting aside whether it was possible to quit—and I didn't see why not—there weren't really many real disadvantages I could think of yet. Of course, I didn't know all that much about how the program worked, so it could be better or worse than it sounded in my head.

I'd get money and resources, training, a team—oh. A team.

The Wards were a group of teenagers that I would have to get along with. And I would have a boss.

On the one hand, a team was helpful, shoring up my weaknesses, and I could power them up. But on the other, I had to get along with them, a bunch of superpowered teens with superpowered drama, I imagined. What if it would be like school all over again?

Well, I could handle it, with [Heroism], probably. At least, I could put up with unlikeable teammates to get the job done.

My dad must have took my silence to mean I was resisting the idea.

"Kiddo, why don't we look into it first before making the decision? We can both do some research on it, maybe reach out and get a contract to look at, that sort of thing."

I nodded my agreement. I had been planning to do that anyway.

When Monday rolled around, I was back at school, and things were surprisingly quiet. The girls that usually gossiped loudly about me gave me looks but didn't actually do anything, and there weren't even spitballs coming my way.

At lunch, I did the same thing as last time and went up to the roof.

I was having a peaceful lunch when midway through I heard giggling coming from the door to the stairs. It turned out to be a couple sneaking up here to make out, and they went back into the stairs when they noticed me.

Ten minutes before the lunch period was over, I heard very light footsteps coming towards me. I had barely noticed it getting close to me with the strong winds on the roof, and turned with slight alarm, but I didn't show it on my face.

"Hebert. So this is where you went." And there she was, the most violent one among my tormentors, Sophia Hess. But she was alone where I would have expected to see at least Emma as well.

"Do you really have nothing better to do than to follow me around?" I asked, wiping my mouth and closing my now empty lunchbox.

Her eyes watched my every movement like a hawk. Then she glanced around as if looking for anyone eavesdropping or watching from afar.

When she was satisfied that nobody was around, her lips curled into a smirk.

I was getting dangerous vibes from this strangeness, and quickly put away my lunchbox before standing up.

"What do you want, Sophia?" My prescription glasses had been replaced with non-refracting fashion glasses over the weekend, and the intensity of Sophia's gaze on me had me wondering if she had noticed the difference in refraction.

Suddenly she dashed forward and I had but a fraction of an instant before she was on me, a punch whizzing past my face as I leaned to the right. My hand was already swinging up to catch her extended arm, but she retracted it like a proper fighter would, and smoothly switched to a punch from her other hand toward my gut.

I positioned my own hand directly in its path after throwing away my lunchbag to the ground, hoping to stop whatever craziness had gotten into Sophia, but her smirk grew wider and the punch turned out to be a feint as she turned it into a grapple for my hand and followed into a sideways kick once her grip was on mine.

I bent diagonally in the same direction the kick was going. The kick went flying overhead, while my leg swept toward her other leg to trip her.

She pushed away from my hand and jumped backwards, and I let her go as I swung back around after my spinning sweep.

I watched her regain her footing, and kept my muscles tensed, ready for further action, while my mind tried to figure out what she was trying to accomplish. A prolonged conflict couldn't be good for me, as I didn't want to show too much of my newfound skills, but I was on the roof and couldn't rule out Sophia having gone crazy and actually trying something seriously dangerous. She had, after all, shoved me into the locker and I almost died from that.

"I knew it. You're different from before," she said, straightening herself out.

So it was a test. That was even more dangerous. Did she already suspect something?

"And if I am? What's it to you?"

"Emma always said you had it in you. Never woulda guessed she was right with how weak you acted," she said, her tone almost appreciative. This was getting seriously weird.

"What are you talking about? Have what in me?"

"What it takes to be one of the strong. There're two kinds of people in this world, and it shows when they face something truly terrible," she started dramatically, gesturing to the city underneath us, walking to the edge of the roof. "There are those that just keep letting the world shit on them. Those are the prey. And there are the ones like you and me, that fight back and realize they're the ones that should be on top. The predators. I guess you really are one of us. Took you long enough to wake up," she said, turning to face me again, leaning back against the protective railing.

"So you think I'm like you, and now you're just going to act like everything you did to me was perfectly normal? Like the law of the jungle?" I asked her.

"Not the law of the jungle. Just how the world works," she said, shrugging. She hoisted herself onto the railing and sat precariously on the edge. "And that stuff we did was all Emma. I didn't give a damn about you. You think I would care about some weak girl that had nothing to do with me? It's like you asked me, don't I have better things to do? 'Course I do. But Emma wanted to prove that you belonged with us. Too bad none of it worked. Probably 'cause of Emma, herself, am I right? Everyone has a weakness like that. You cared too much about her," she said without a hint of guilt or shame.

I stood there in silence for a few seconds.

Then I picked up my lunch bag and walked away.

There was only one thing she was right about.

Emma.

I cared too much.

When I opened the door to the stairs, Sophia's voice reached me again.

"If you want to stay a loner, fine by me. But word of advice, newbie. We aren't the only predators in school, and if you're not gonna hang with us, I'm not going outta my way to keep protecting you no matter what Emma says. So watch yourself and stop being so obvious. It's not against the rules if you don't bother to hide it."

Her final words stopped me cold.

"What do you m—" I started to ask as I turned around, only to blink as she wasn't there anymore. My eyes grew wide as I looked in every direction, then I went back out onto the roof and leaned over the railing.

She was gone without a trace.