Xerchen stood there in a daze, his hand still clasped around Grey’s, but for once that placid expression of his had completely disappeared. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, and honestly, neither did Grey at first, because the reaction coming from the Mechanical Jaw Spirit was far stronger than he expected.
Xerchen wasn’t even half gnome, technically speaking, he was only a quarter, but apparently that was more than enough for whatever lingered in his blood to answer the call.
The change started from there. Something deep in Xerchen’s body began to purify itself, the faint traces of gnome blood that had been buried beneath two generations of dilution suddenly sharpening until Grey could almost feel them humming through their clasped hands.
More importantly, the contradiction between Xerchen’s bloodlines began to resolve, the messy incompatibilities that had probably existed since birth smoothing themselves out as though someone had finally found the missing piece of a puzzle.
Grey’s eyes narrowed.
’Why don’t you just lather me up while you’re at it?’
He understood now.
The swallowing force of Xerchen’s Resonant Frame suddenly became several times more potent, and in that instant Grey realized why The Immovable had chosen him in the first place.
Gnomes had the ability to swallow and assimilate, Grey knew that better than most, and through two generations of separation that instinct had been twisted into something else, adapted by Xerchen’s Resonant Neural Frame until it became terrifyingly compatible with the path of his master.
The Immovable swallowed everything. Presence, strength, senses, information itself.
Xerchen had inherited a watered-down version of a bloodline built to consume, then formed a Neural Frame that turned that instinct outward in almost the exact direction his master needed.
’So that’s why.’ Grey couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
And now that buried piece of him was waking up.
The black-hole-like pressure around Xerchen deepened so quickly that even Grey felt his Resonant Sense instinctively recoil. It wasn’t just stronger, it was cleaner, the swallowing force no longer feeling like something fighting against the rest of Xerchen’s body, but a natural extension of it.
It almost reminded Grey of the rebirth waters. Well... except without the part where you might freeze to death, corrupt your soul, accidentally turn into a mutant, or have some ancient angel lady stare at you like you were the dumbest fucking person she’d met in several thousand years.
’Well, you don’t get to stare at big tits, so I win.’ Grey comforted himself.
That was apparently what happened when you had a Spirit like the Mechanical Jaw Spirit on your side. The problem was that the shitty thing should have been on his side, but instead of doing that, it was handing out free lunch to the homeless.
Grey hadn’t experienced benefits this clean when he fused with it, but there was a pretty obvious reason for that. He had gained the Mechanical Jaw Spirit’s acknowledgement through mech crafting, not because there had been any gnome blood naturally flowing through him.
When they fused, the Spirit had basically needed to build that bloodline inside Grey from scratch. And Grey’s body had already been a fucking soup.
Vampire, Imperial, Goblin, Witch, Dormaji, Syrn, Volthari, Old One bullshit.... Probably several others Grey had forgotten because apparently collecting bloodlines had become another one of his hobbies somewhere along the way.
Honestly, he was just a walking chimera at this point. He didn’t even know how his body was keeping it all together. Any moment now he might start busting out at the seams. If not because of all the bloodlines, certainly because of this severe case of blue balls that was going to kill him any minute now.
The Mechanical Jaw Spirit hadn’t been able to simply purge all of that and decide what Grey was supposed to become, because Grey himself didn’t seem capable of deciding that.
Xerchen was different. He didn’t have a million bloodlines fighting for room. He didn’t even have the Imperial Bloodline that would have naturally supported his Paladin Spirit. Instead, he had only a few pieces, and over the course of his life, whether consciously or otherwise, he had already forced those pieces toward one goal.
Everything inside Xerchen pointed in the same direction.
Grey had more Frames than he knew what the fuck to do with.
So the Mechanical Jaw Spirit didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t confused and apparently it didn’t need Grey’s permission.
It simply acted.
And in what felt like the blink of an eye, Xerchen became several times stronger.
Then Grey’s lip twitched because it wasn’t stopping there.
The change in Xerchen’s Resonant Frame was already annoying enough, but Grey could feel something else responding too.
Paladin Spirit.
Xerchen had a version of it, Grey was absolutely certain now, and no one understood that lineage better than Grey did. Paladin Spirit had evolved from Goblin Warlord Spirit, which had always made Grey assume its roots had nothing to do with gnomes at all.
Apparently, he was wrong. Because he could feel that shit evolving too.
Grey’s face slowly twisted as the aura around Xerchen deepened again, his combat instincts sharpening, the connection between mind, body, and Neural Frame tightening until it felt like the bastard had skipped years of training in a few breaths.
’Are you fucking serious?’
Everybody wanted to take advantage of him.
The Genesis System fucked him.
The Producers fucked him.
The Gods fucked him.
Now even his own Spirits were apparently handing out free upgrades to future enemies like Grey was running some charitable foundation.
Xerchen’s strength surged again.
Grey sighed. This shitty luck of his really had to go into a hall of fame somewhere. Since this was a reality tv show, did they have one of those? They better at this point. He needed to leave here with something, dammit.
"At least leave a tip if you’re not gonna use any lube. What happened to some fucking etiquette and decorum?" he muttered. "Fuck me."
Xerchen’s eyes snapped open.
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