Years. Months. Days . . .
CHAPTER17
VESPER
Igo back to the start, planning to read every bit of information I can about each Glitch before I select one. If it’s this important, I don’t want to rush anything. It’s better to know every possible detail before I choose. Knowledge is the greatest weapon, as Cipher says.
“Cipher says we shouldn’t rush—” I start to tell Locke as I prepare to sit in for the long haul and read every option thoroughly.
“Done!” Locke exclaims, interrupting my warning.
I whip my head toward him with wide eyes. “Locke!”
“What?” he says, raising his brow. “I needed something strong. It’s not hard to find.”
“Did you even read anything?” I growl. “Cipher said we can’t change this once we pick it!”
“I read what I needed to,” he replies, grinning.
I shake my head. “And what did you pick then? So, one of us can at least read all the information.”
Locke takes a seat on the ground and leans back, getting comfortable. “You’re looking at a Tier One Bone Breaker.”
“Pity,” Cipher says, his tone dripping with condescension.
“Why?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer me. So, I just flip through the menus until I find the one labeled “Bone Breaker.” My eyes scan the stats. “What? You just saw the strength and called it a day?”
“Yep,” Locke says. “I’m going to be so strong. As a Tier One, I’m a Knuckle Dreg. How cool does that sound? A Knuckle Dreg,” he repeats, as if saying it twice will make it cooler.
My eyes scan the main description as I read it out loud. “The Bone Breaker’s power is not borrowed, nor gifted, nor begged. It is torn from their own marrow. They are feared among all. Where others seek allies or tricks, the Bone Breaker embraces only pain. They do not mend. They do not rest. They break, and grow stronger. Core ability modifiers: Strength and Vitality.”
“Fucking sick, right?” he nods, grinning. “I mean, I didn’t read all of that, but it’s exactly what I was looking for. I’m going to be so strong, I’ll be able to destroy the assholes in Luxe.”
Cipher chuckles in my mind and I narrow my eyes on Locke. “Did you read your Tier One description?”
“I didn’t read anything,” Locke reminds me. “Except for the initial stats and the major strengths. Bone Breaker’s main category is strength.”
My eyes scan the Tier One description and I wince. “Locke,” I murmur.
“What?” he scowls. “What is it?” At my expression, he pops open the menu again and reads, but I’m already reading it out loud.
“Bone Breakers exhibit a Tier One fatality rate exceeding acceptable thresholds. Common causes of failure include uncontrolled ossification, marrow liquefaction, skeletal seizure, and catastrophic internal load-bearing collapse. Long-term viability, cognitive stability, and post-transformation quality of life cannot be confirmed.”
Locke stares at the words for a few long moments. “It’s fine,” he says. “I’m strong enough to survive it. If I can handle being a Spine Jacker for Mother Remainder, I can handle this.” He looks over at me. “Besides, look at my stats. Plus two to strength, one to vitality, and I get a special mechanic apparently. And that’s only gonna get stronger as we level up.”
“You lost a charisma point,” I point out.
“Who needs charisma when you have fists like stone?” he asks, grinning, but there’s a tightness around his eyes, as if he’s rethinking if he’d made a mistake or not. But Locke is too confident to ever admit he might have been wrong. And besides, it’s too late now.
Locke is a Bone Breaker. There’s no going back.
“Well . . . I’m going to be taking longer,” I tell him. “So, you might as well get comfortable.”
He salutes me. “Already there, Hyena,” he says and I blink at him. “Because of the animal you mentioned.”
“I got that,” I said. “It’s just . . . that’s what Dox calls me sometimes.”
He stares at me as if realizing it may not be something I want him to call me. “I can stop.”
