Chapter 62: Let’s Blow this Popsicle Stand |
The latest in a long line of victims of [Spatial Detonation], a chunk of osmium from their supplies, courtesy of Mimi, blew apart in a brilliant flash of light, bright enough to actually make Derek flinch back.
“So, dense materials react more violently. That block of osmium was the biggest bang of the lot.” Mimi’s voice came over the radio Derek had reluctantly slipped onto his head when they’d started experimenting together.
“I think that’s the last of them, right?” Derek asked.
“Yes.”
Alright, that was that, then. Experiments complete.
The spell worked on literally everything, including air, as proven by a tupperware container he’d blown up by detonating the air inside before it could completely leak out. Just because the space between atoms was huge did not mean he couldn’t shrink it away into nothingness for the brief second it took to explode.
But it was more effective on materials with smaller and less complex molecules, as well as things that were dense and/or heavy on an individual atom basis, like lead.
Oh, and as expected, it failed miserably against anything with magic in it. And the fact that that had been clear from the beginning failed to soften that blow. Though perhaps that was a good thing. After all, if instakill magic of that degree did not exist, no one would be able to wield it against him either.
… Instead, they’d simply be able to crush him with ease, due to his being at a Level that was, admittedly, quite low. Especially for his age.
“What’s that smell?” Derek asked the moment he was back aboard.
“That’d be the osmium,” Atticus said.
“Osmium is named after the Ancient Greek word for ‘smell’ because it makes a toxic gas when exposed to air,” Mimi explained, voice nasal due to her holding her nose.
The stench had to be especially bad for her. Anyone empowered by the [System] could dial their sense of smell down to the original baseline, but Mimi was not human, as was made abundantly clear by the pair of fuzzy fox ears atop her head. She was a Sionnach Sidhe, a “fox fairy,” with the nose to match, and the osmium vapors had to be murder on her senses.
Right.
He could already hear the fans of the environmental system whirring, filtering out gas, but that would take longer than if Derek simply magicked it away, so he did. After two attempts, the first one fizzling when the expected support from [Spellcasting] was not forthcoming.
Yeah. He’d have to make sure not to get too dependent on that, as its Level was wont to do yoyo about the place if he kept fusing it into something more specialized.
Also …
“I think you might want to learn some utility spells,” he told Atticus. Their pilot had a not insignificant talent for the arcane, along with the ability to learn spells from books, both of which he’d inherited from his mother, but as far as anyone knew, utility wasn’t his focus.
“Oh, that reminds me …” Ye-in announced, then withdrew a book from her spatial ring and tossed it at him, Derek being able to easily read the title even in flight.
‘How to train your roommate: spellcasting edition’
But both that and the rather colorful cover were both atop a booksleve, wrapping what Derek strongly suspected was the copy of ‘101 Spells You Won’t Know How You Lived Without’ that had come with the ship and been gathering dust in the galley every since, entirely superfluous as Derek had his own copy in his room.
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Derek also quickly proceeded to trigger [Alcubierre Bubble], so they could start accelerating again.
Sure, they weren’t going to reach the maximum pseudo-velocity on this flight, and unlikely to do so in the near future, after all, that’d take six months of non-stop acceleration, but continuous flight was still very good.
Though the top speed of the [Skill] was pretty absurd. A little over thirty-six thousand times the speed of light, which translated to a hair under a hundred light-years a day. Enough to cross from one end of the Milky Way to the other in four years, assuming you never stopped, not for even a single second.
Also, at that kind of velocity, you could take the three hundred light-years you’d have traveled during the very first month in just three days.
The acceleration was inconsistent and weird, based on maths that seemed to lack a logical basis, but were also sufficiently well-cataloged as to be entirely predictable. And ultimately, it all boiled down to “stopping in transit costs you a lot of time,” which was part of why Derek felt somewhat guilty about having yanked the Dragonfly out of FTL to try his new spell.
But now that they were back in the bubble of unreality hurling them across the universe at a rate that let them easily outspeed light without ever actually exceeding light-speed, the overall delay should not amount to more than a few days.
Yet as great as his new spell was, Derek still found himself heading back to his quarters with the sole intention of lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, while he mulled things over.
The idea of temporarily removing the space between atoms had paid off in spades, while attempting the inverse had resulted in resounding failure. Not even of the “this isn’t working” kind, his newest and arguably strongest [Skill] had straight up refused to even provide him a point of approach, something he had taken as it being impossible.
Why the hell did the inverse of [Spatial Detonation] not work, though? He could “delete” space between atoms, but expanding it was a step too far? Maybe it was that he was actively pulling on molecular bonds, forcing space to expand in a way that was actively counter to them? But if things worked like that, wouldn’t that have also prevented the contraction from functioning as intended, considering all the forces, uh, forcing atoms to maintain their “respectful distance?”
It was an almost entirely academic issue at this point, seeing as the actual real-world effect would be fairly weak, considering how things were bound to snap back together normally. He’d be able to push his way through even “solid” matter subjected to that kind of internal expansion, but he could already phase! What was the point of learning to do so destructively?
… Well, outside the idea of leaving a perfect outline of his body behind when he walked through it.
Overall, it was not something he could ever see himself using, but the fact that he was cut off from even the possibility was grinding his gears in a way he couldn’t even do anything about.
Or … you know what? He’d spent far too long awake, grinding away at the problem; his productivity had doubtlessly fallen off a cliff hours ago. Perhaps sleeping on it was the better solution.
Decision made, he used [Phantom Armor] to swap his everyday wear for a pair of pajamas, then cast a cleansing spell to replace the shower he probably should have taken, turned off the lights, and … just laid there. Still awake, still thinking, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted, of what he was trying to do, and attempting to change that only put sleep even further beyond his reach.
***
In the end, it took him longer to fall asleep than he actually spent in the realm of Hypnos, but thanks to his high Fortitude, he didn’t actually need much … assuming he actually managed to fall asleep, something that was far too frustrating, far too often.
Derek thought about remaining in bed to pick up where he had left off the previous evening, but in the end decided to head into the galley for that instead.
Cup of coffee, scrambled eggs, two thick cuts of bacon, baked beans, and some hashbrowns combined to form a decent approximation of an English breakfast, at least if one ignored the small heap of kimchi he added, something that would likely earn a not-insignificant amount of mock-outrage if Atticus saw. Sure, the most British thing about the other man was his barely-there accent, but he’d gladly ham it up if it was funny.
Though, how did the joke about the food go again?
The British conquered half the world for spices and decided they didn’t like any of them?
Yeah, that sounded about right.
But once he was done, frustration was back on the menu. His stubbornness had well and truly kicked in, and he wanted to make this spell his bitch!
***
A week later, Derek was, once again, staring at the ceiling.
That … that could have gone better. In fact, he could scarcely think of a less productive way to have spent the last seven days than banging his head against that wall. In fact, he had a distinct feeling that the reason [Superior Arcane Spatial Manipulation] hadn’t leveled since he’d gotten his hands on [Spatial Detonation] was that he’d been banging his head against a wall not meant to be breached.
Fuck.
“You know what?” he sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I got the message.”
With that, he hauled himself off his bed and marched his ass over to the machine shop so he could familiarize himself some more with the gear within. Just because it was Mimi’s realm didn’t mean he shouldn’t familiarize himself with it at least a little. And he had … but he should probably get to a point where it didn’t take him half an hour to figure out how to work the CnC machine every time he needed to mill a replacement part …