Point Zero by Aer-ki Jyr (e reader .TXT) 📗

“First with all the Psionics, and first of her new race.”

“Her new race is still mostly Human, just…”

“Super Human now,” Wilson finished, making it clear in his tone he wasn’t interested in idle talk. “Any flags?”

“Nothing yet. It’s taking smoothly. More so than a Knight reduction.”

“Good,” Wilson said, half expecting that…and half expecting her body to outright reject it if it matched her own stubbornness. “Good…”

8 days later…

Morgan groggily realized her body hurt as she tried to wiggle around in bed and turn over onto her shoulder…at which point she realized she wasn’t in her own bed, and from there her mind began to claw its way to consciousness rapidly.

She managed to roll over onto her right arm, then felt so tired she flopped back down on her belly…except the bed wasn’t wide enough and her body only half hit, with her falling off the edge only to have someone catch her and lift her back up before her eyes finally cracked open.

The Archon looked around, blinking heavily as if the light hurt her, and the heavy hand on her right thigh was the first thing that came into focus. She followed it up the arm until she saw a blurry blob that slowly resolved into Wilson’s face.

“Whhhhaaatt?” she groaned, as if her body wasn’t fully responding to her commands.

“Easy, Morgan. You made it. It’s over. You’re tiny again.”

The blinking increased, until she finally got her eyes working, then she looked up into Wilson’s face unmoving. “Ouch.”

“You’re at Point Zero, sweetheart. Take it slow and build. It’s all uphill from here. No more going backwards.”

Her head finally moved enough to look down at her body…which was laying inside very baggy clothes that no longer fit her. “Let me see.”

“You can’t move, can you?” Wilson asked.

“No. Everything is raw. If I move…”

“Easy, I understand. Give your Haemra time to identify and work on it. Focus on activating it.”

“She shouldn’t be in pain at all with the Regenerator,” the medtech said, furiously flipping through diagnostic screens.

Wilson reached over and pulled the armband off, which drew looks of disbelief from the medtechs. “Her Haemra is better, and the Regenerator only knows familiar physiology. Hers is new. It won’t work as well until it has a good baseline.”

“Possibly, but the amount of pain she’s suggest…” he said, getting cut off by a hand gesture from Wilson.

“Concentrate, Morgan,” he whispered. “Clear the fog first, then remind your body it belongs to you, and it will reconfigure to your liking, not the universe’s.”

That seemed to shake her more awake, and when her eyes closed he knew she was getting a handle on it even without trying to use his Ikrid and hack into her nervous system.

When she opened her eyes again, he saw recognition, but still pain.

“Better,” she announced. “Take my clothes off…so I don’t have to. I want to see.”

“Cut them off,” he told the nearest medtech. “Don’t move her legs.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want to give her a reason to be mad at you later?” he said almost humorously.

“As you wish,” he relented, digging out a tool from a nearby wall panel that served as a hidden cabinet, then as Wilson pulled off her already too big of shoes with his telekinesis, the medtech ran the device up her socks and gently pulled the pieces off without moving her foot.

He preceded up her pants and pulled those away, laying them out on either side and not trying to pull them out from under her. He moved up to her shirt and got it all off with the help of Wilson, then hesitated until Morgan glared at him…then he preceded to cut away her underwear as well, leaving her laying naked as she was propped up on one elbow looking down at her very pale legs that seemed to have lost what tan she’d had before. Now she was almost albino…and a scrawny one at that.

“You lost a lot of muscle,” Wilson commented. “It will take time to rebuild it all, but it will be Furyan muscle, and you will no longer be limited as you were before.”

Morgan started to cry again, with sobs this time, and each time she convulsed the pain rippled down her, but Wilson could tell she didn’t care. She was so relieved he was surprised at her reaction.

“Better?” he asked.

“Better,” she confirmed, slowly raising her left hand and running it over her vagina and her abdomen experimentally. “Is it gone?”

“Your uterus was removed as requested,” the medtech answered before Wilson could. “But your ovaries are intact to preserve your hormone levels and egg production.”

“What’s my ambrosia production level?” she asked, referencing the new tissue that was supposed to replace the pointless reproductive organ that she’d never use.

“Currently 81 times the average of the other trailblazers.”

Morgan snickered, glancing at Wilson as she continued to focus on her Haemra as it sought to figure out what the pain was from, track it down, and heal it. “Call me a cheater.”

“You’re a cheater,” he admitted, also with a smile.

“Damn right,” she said. “Help me sit up.”

Wilson did as requested, eliciting a groan from her, but it left Morgan able to look down at her body with a sagging head, but no need for support from him.

“I feel like a puppet with her strings cut.”

“It’ll pass with time. Be patient, reckless one.”

“Oh I’m going slow, trust me.”

“For about ten minutes,” he admonished, drawing another smile from her. “Try and stretch it to 20…please.”

“Why is my tan gone?”

“Your skin was reset to defaults that didn’t exist, so without a need for it you didn’t develop the adaptation to the UV light. You will as needed going forward.”

“Factory reset, huh?” she asked, bringing her hands up in front of