Apocalypse: Fairy System by Macronomicon (fox in socks read aloud txt) 📕

“Well, if that’s what you believe, pull the trigger,” Jeb said, reaching a tendril of Myst up from behind and beneath, flicking the safety on.

Rufio’s eyes narrowed, and he squeezed the trigger.

Predictably, nothing happened.

The next couple seconds were a blur of motion.

Rufio dropped the gun, stretching out his left hand and reaching for a pebble with his right. Green Myst gathered in his left palm.

Jeb whipped out his barrier wand and flooded it with Myst while pulling it from one side to the other like closing a curtain.

The pearlescent Wand of Flowing Barriers created what appeared at first to be a massive soap bubble. Take a giant wobbly bubble made by a huge bubble maker, flatten it a bit and give it the ability to harden into a tough resinous substance, and you’ve got the idea.

The thin wobbly film turned from pearlescent to a hard sheen as it cured a fraction of a second before a blast of Myst-slime scattered off its surface.

Rufio snatched a pebble off the ground and whipped it forward with the tips of his fingers.

The tiny bit of rock smashed into the resinous substance between them, creating a trumpet-shaped deformation in the wall as its energy was stolen by the semi-stretchy material. It was a bit like watching ballistics gel stop a bullet.

The gun clattered to the ground, and Rufio threw three more rocks, stretching the wall until it began to turn pearlescent again from the strain.

Better leave soon, Jeb thought, reaching into his pocket with his free hand.

Jeb took out a notepad and scratched down the address of his mansion.

“Come visit us sometime. We can talk about how you can help me catch the guy. And remember, if you tell others about me before they already know, I will beat you with a stick.”

He stuck the note to the tacky wall of clear magical resin and began clomping away. The wall was starting to degrade along the edges already, and Jeb didn’t wanna go for round two until the kid had a chance to calm down.

Rufio didn’t chase him—just stood there at the edge of the alley, fists clenched tight.

Jeb clomped his way back to his home in the dark of night, keeping his head on a swivel for teens with misguided anger and robbers who were just plain hungry. He wasn’t able to relax until he set foot inside the mansion.

Jeb hung his overcoat on the rack and stomped his way to the kitchen, where he was pleased to discover Mrs. Lang making sandwiches, half a dozen at a time with a practiced hand.

Jeb melted into the stool on the other side of the bar, listening to the pounding of hammer and nail, sawing and general boisterous atmosphere of the janitors and handymen fixing the holes in the staircase.

“I smell paint. Where did we get paint?”

“The boys took your Jeep and raided a Home Depot,” the matronly old woman said, passing Jeb a sammich.

“Nice.” Jeb took a bite. “Free is good.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” She took a second glance at Jeb’s haggard expression. “Long day?”

“Eh,” Jeb said with a shrug. “Bit of a mixed bag. A bunch of people threw me out of their shops for being human, almost got robbed, a kid tried to kill me a couple times, I met a friend from the Tutorial—oh, and I think a little girl got killed this evening by the guy I’m looking for.”

Mrs. Lang’s hand froze, knife seized tight in her trembling fingers. “You’re going to kill him…right?”

“That’s the plan, Mrs. Lang.”

“Good.” Her knife resumed spreading the homemade mayo.

Jeb finished his food and checked in on Eddie.

The first thing he noticed was the generator running outside the old man’s man cave. It was rather quiet, with what looked like a series of mufflers welded to the exhaust and an extra-large tank. Deeper inside, the old man had an extension cord leading from the generator, connected to several electrical goodies, namely a computer and what looked like an extra-fancy 3D printer. On the floor was a smorgasbord of engines, motors, and bits and pieces of electrical components that Jeb couldn’t even hope to name.

In the corner was a bomb-defusing bot with all its armor stripped away.

The old man was drafting something on the computer, his bifocals slipped down the bridge of his nose as he leaned in closer than strictly necessary and muttered to himself.

“How’s it going?”

“Completely breaking the laws of physics, that’s how it’s going.” He pointed at the Myst engine in the center of the room, feeding a trickle of Myst through Jeb’s regulator and into the gasoline lens, which trickled liquid fuel into a receiver, which in turn pumped into the generator’s tank, supplying the entire mansion with power.

“Are you telling me you can see the Myst being used by that thing?”

Jeb glanced at the whirling vortex of pale Myst being drawn into the tiny hole at the top of the engine.

“Yup.”

“How can it behave like a vapor, then a light ray!?” Eddie clutched his head and winced for a moment. “Nevermind. I gotta get those levels. Buddy will be done in a day or so, then we’ll see if you’re pulling my leg.”

“Did you make the thing I asked you for?” Jeb asked.

“Right over there,” Eddie said, waving his hand toward the bench dismissively, his gaze sliding back to the drafting program. “Now shut up.

“Motherfucker!” Eddie growled when an error message popped up.

“Where did you get the printer?” Jeb asked, picking up the length of steel. It didn’t look like one of the household 3D printers he’d seen in the past. It was big and industrial-looking with welded plating, and exposed guts twitching as the arm moved around.

“I stole it from Chuck’s house.”

“Who’s Chuck?”

“He