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The Strongest Link


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And change the chains did...or so it appeared at least!

 

The wave of light and heat washed over his body up through his arms and down through the tips of his fingers into the chains but once all the lights had faded none but the first links of the smallest chains and a little over half of the first links of the larger chains had been transformed and the resulting instability lead those once metal parts of the larger links to crumble, leaving behind smooth but hard edges lIke they'd been cut clean away.

Edited by Exaccus
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"Hunh.  That was... disappointing.  Not completely unexpected, though.  But," he clapped his hands, "this is how we learn, yes?  And you were not injured by that, were you?  Not in any pain?  You seem to be doing okay, but of course I want to hear it from you."

 

A few of the green beetle-bots scuttled up and swept up the dust and flakes at Facsimile's feet, then quickly scurried back to wherever they'd come from.

 

"I may have an idea on something that would work, though."  He began rummaging through crates, teleporting about the hangar as he searched.  "I know I still have some, but the robots keep moving the crates... no... no... ah- wait, no... ah, yes, here it is!"  He teleported back to Facsimile, holding about a dozen lengths of braided cloth cords.  "These are made of an adaptive metamaterial, similar to what the Atom Family uses in their costumes.  They can adapt to a wearer's abilities, so these should change along with you, with no degradation."  He handed him one, "here, give it a try."

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Facsimile took this time to get his breath back a little.

 

"Hoo boy....not painful but it's like....exercise burn you know? Never transformed this many times in such short time."  He confessed as he shook himself off a little.

 

"Not too much on me yet."  He said as he reached out and messed with the material a little "good stuff them moronic molecules..tough wearing." He said as his hands went to his belt and metal began to spread over his body and out through the materials.

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"That's good!  The soreness will subside, and your powers will grow, and eventually you'll be able to shift more quickly without any discomfort!  Maybe even work out that 'turn into two distinct materials simultaneously' thing, without becoming ill!  Of course, we don't want to overdo it, so whenever you need to take a breather, just let me know.  I've got more ginger ale, and water, or I can whip up something with more electrolytes."

 

As Facsimile examined the cord, Archeville began tying the others into loops.  "That's morphic molecules, not moronic," he laughed.  The cord in Facsimile's hand became metal, "even though they're not exactly the same as what the Atom Family uses, I doubt they'd take kindly to such a misnaming.  Ah, good, good, that seems to have changed as smoothly as the hand that's holding it.  Okay, now try this," he tossed him what he'd been working on, a short chain of morphic molecule loops.

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"Ok....cool!" Facs stated as he examined the cord in his metal hands and then turning back to flesh and blood, perhaps curious to see if the molecules would become flesh in that morbid way.

 

They didn't as far as he could tell, probably for the best...it would suck to not only be mined for resources but to be harvested for replenishing organs.

 

This time he stooped to the floor but rather than touching the concrete he touched his fingers to the black rubber of his boot soles and once again the transformation began, he wondered how much heat he had let off in total now.

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The cord did not turn into a length of flesh, much to Facsimile's -- and Archeville's -- relief, but rather reverted back to the kevlar-y, spandex-y material it was originally.

 

The 'chain' of morphic molecule cords changed, link by link, into the same rubber as his hand.  It went smoothly, and felt easy -- the few times he'd changed other objects, there was a bit of a struggle, and even more heat, but with these, there was none at all.  It's like they wanted to change along with him!

 

Archeville looked on, and was smiling.  "Ah, look at that!"  He picked up the dangling end of rubber links and held it up at eye level, "I knew this would work!  And since these are a fiber, they can be woven or knitted into almost anything.  It could be a belt, or a scarf, and then," he dropped the chain and clapped his hands sharply, "a chain of metal, or stone, or whatever!"

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 "Hmm..." Facsimile pondered a little at that last suggestion,  Chains were useful, he was experienced at handling with them both from securing his bike and from his construction work.

 

"Anything you say? How do you feel about a wrecking ball?" He asked with a toothy grin of slight amusement.

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"Oh ho!  I think I see where you are going with this!"  He waved his hands, and a softly glowing holographic screen appeared between them.  Using his finger as a pen laser, he sketched out a length of chains, with a large sphere on one end.  He jotted down measurements and other notes, schematics of what the inside of the ball would look like.  He asked the young man for feedback and preferences at several points -- length, thickness, what shape(s) the head should be.  After about ten minutes of work, he had a completed design.  "It can stretch out to about four times its original length, change substance along with you, and has some limited shapeshifting abilities: the links can sprout barbs, and the head can also become spiked, or flatten out to become a razor-sharp disc."

 

"It'll take me about two days to make it.  Well," he tilted his head slightly, "day and a half, I think.  Most of that time will be just making enough of the material, the actual knitting part should take just a few hours.  I could have it ready for you... Sunday, around lunch time."  He nodded and smiled.  It felt good to be helping someone, and working on a new project.

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"Sweet!"

 

There was a feeling of excitement to it all that he couldn't quite describe even as he grasped it tightly in his chest.

 

"How do you even make this kinda stuff?" He asked as he strained the material chain he'd been given to test the tensile strength of the chain.

 

"Someone tried to explain it to me once but I didn't quite get it...nanoscopic smart materials I kinda get, that raincoat that can repair itself with friction is pretty neat." He mumbled to himself before snapping back to the here and now.

 

"I'll meet you then, then? Joe's diner again? My treat!" He offered in exuberant excitement

Edited by Exaccus
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The chain in his hands proved as strong as he himself was!

 

"It's more about how the material is made than what it's made of," he sat on one of the crates, "though what they're made of is important.  Most such materials are made of interlocking assemblies of composite materials -- plastics, metal alloys, ceramics, and so on -- arranged in repeating patterns.  The shape, geometry, size, and orientation of the assemblies -- all determined in the laboratory -- give the materials various properties, such as being able to block, absorb, enhance, or bend electromagnetic or sound waves.  It may do you well to study up on these," he wagged his right index finger at him, "such materials have a wide variety of uses, and you mat find yourself working with them in some future construction projects!"

 

He hopped off the crate and held out both hands, one palm up, one held to shake.  "Joe's Diner it is!"  After taking the chain back, "so, did you want to do any more tests?  Or do you need to head out?"

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"Well hmm...none that I can think of...though I'm a suprisingly uncreative individual given what I can do...I've been meaning to look into passively absorbing ambient energies to boost my strength like that Assad guy." He mentioned as he rubbed his chin with his hand.

 

"I've found my powers to be multiplative rather than additive so the more I can give em to work with the more I get out of them you see?" He explained perhaps a little clumsily.

 

"Just gotta be a better guy underneath it all, I figure anyway."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Archeville chuckled once, "sounds to me like you've got some very creative thinking there, young man.  This will serve you well, both as a hero and a construction worker.  You're more clever than you give yourself credit for."

 

AND SO, time passed, and the two unlikely allies met up once again at Joe's Diner, just after the Sunday lunch crowd.  Archeville walked in -- once more in his guise as humble fixit man Patch Menderson -- carrying a plain shoebox under one arm, and looked about for Facsimile.  He found him, sitting at the same booth they'd sat in two nights prior.  He approached with a warm smile and open hand.  After some small talk and a meal, Archeville gave Facs the box.  Inside was a length of chain, dull gray, about the length and width of a belt, with a yo-yo-like disc at the end.  Archeville went over its operation with the young hero, and pointed out the pamphlet of instructions that was also in the box, which included a phone number that would connect Facs directly to him.

 

~Fin~

 

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