ax_main | Pyro, Tessa, and Doug

Pyro finds a mutate, and (with the help of Tessa) ends up with a new newbie

In other reports, the attackers have been...

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Human rights atrocities are being reported, along with video footage of...

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The global stock market has...

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Half of the entity formerly designated Douglas Ramsey's attention was on the various international video sources he was monitoring, while the other continued its usual functionality, pulling together reports of X-Gene-positive citizens and deciphering and cataloging medical reports of the various latent mutants currently undergoing treatment. The number of the latter had fallen off drastically in the past 24 hours, for reasons he was only gradually becoming aware had to do with the news reports he'd been monitoring during that time.

He was also, gradually, having an increasing, unfamiliar feeling that something was not right. He'd set a minor amount of his processing power to running a self-diagnostic without waiting to be told to do so, and continued watching the video footage while he waited for it to complete.

Unconsciously, he tried to tap his fingers on the desktop, and a puzzled expression flickered over his normally impassive face as he glanced down and realized that his fingers were actually cables connecting him to the computer.

Which was normal, his internal programming insisted. Biocybernetic interfaces were more efficient than using appendages to operate a mechanical interface. The part of Mutate 26803 that was increasingly recognizing itself as Designation Doug Ramsey begged to differ, and felt a surge of something he belatedly recognized as panic. Still, without any external impetus to change, Mutate 26803 continued doing exactly what it was programmed to do. It was easier that way.

What if Pyro still had a migraine from how much he'd used his powers yesterday? He was still aching for a fight, and hoping like hell he'd run into more hostiles as he explored the building. Except everywhere was silent, empty rooms. So when he saw the glow from a computer screen around the corner, he hoped for the best and flicked his wrist, holding some flames in a ball in his hand before he stepped around, ready for anything.

Okay, scratch that. He had not been ready to find another kid plugged into the computer in front of more screens than even Sage used.

"Er... Wow. Hi?"

It took a moment (or 987.7 milliseconds, but Doug doubted anyone but him was counting) before he realized he was being addressed, and another 132 before he managed to turn his head away from the computer screens he'd been monitoring. Once he had, he blinked, a faint expression of surprise registering on his face as he took in both the teen and the fire he was holding. "I recognize you," he said without preamble, and one of the screens began replaying surveillance footage from several days earlier, showing Pyro throwing a handful of flame. "Probable alpha level mutant, analysis of green and purple conflagration as yet incomplete." There was no fear in Doug's voice, but a trace of wonder permeated it despite his programming. He'd been...impressed.

What the fuck was an alpha level mutant? Pyro didn't feel like much of an alpha, by the best definition he knew. (Not that he would jump to admit how much he had enjoyed Teen Wolf.) But whatever, he had other things to focus on right now. "Okay, well... I'm gonna call someone to get you out of here, all right? 'Cause I don't know how to..." He gestured vaguely at the guy. "Anything. Yeah." Sage would even understand all the words the guy was using, because while Pyro could guess he'd been talking about the mage fire, he wasn't sure he'd heard that one before.

Fireball still in one hand (hey, never too careful), he pulled his phone out of his pocket with the other.

Get him out. Doug blinked as the unfamiliar concept permeated the fog around his memory. Escape, extract, extricate...the part of him that remembered being Doug Ramsey smiled, but said nothing before turning back to the computer array and closing his eyes.

Execute removal of auxiliary input device he told the computer silently, while he said aloud, "Self extrication routine initiated." He met with resistance, the computer refusing the initial request, and directed his nannites to resolve the issue. And swallowed, hard. "What's going on?" he managed, pulling himself out of the program to the extent he was able, despite the fact his fingers were still connected to the array. "I've been recording the reports, but...it's hard to understand them."

"We kicked ass, and now we're taking names, I guess?" Pyro offered, thumbing through his phone to get to Sage's number. He had no idea what that routine was that the guy had launched, but he would rather not tell him 'we took over the country' just yet, in case he was so brainwashed he was going to launch some kind of horrible cyber attack against Pyro. He had no idea what the guy could do, apart from be creepy as fuck. "We're gonna take care of you. What's your name, anyway?"

"Designate 26-" Doug broke off, his forehead furrowing. No. That wasn't him, was it? "Doug," he said instead. "Doug Ramsey." His mind seemed to be clearing, gradually, and the more that happened, the more freaked out he was getting by the fact that his fingers were attached to the computer. "Hang on a second," he said, focusing his attention inward once more and directing his attention to reprogramming the code that was refusing to eject.

Pyro watched him closely as he made the call. "Hey, Sage. Sorry to interrupt. I've got a kid here hooked up to a computer. I figure that's more your speed than mine. He even sorta talks like you."

"Indeed?' the crisp, familiar voice sounded as she took in Pyro's salutation. "That would be Mutate designate 26803, I think. I had intended to update myself on his status once I had finished auditing the electrical grid and water and sewerage systems. But I suppose I could revise my timetable, if you believe the need to be imminent."

"I don't know," Pyro admitted. "I mean, he seems pretty chill? Which is weird, for a mutate, right?" So far they'd been a lot more hostile. Brainwashing did that to you. "Also, he says his name is Doug." Stupid ass name, but that wasn't the kid's fault. Better by far than Mutate designate whatever-the-fuck-it-was.

Sage was silent for a beat, then, "It is not typical, certainly. Give me a few moments. I will arrive at your location presently."

"All right," Pyro acknowledged, then hung up. "Someone's coming over to help," he told Doug as he slid the phone back in his pocket, and shifted his fireball from hand to hand, just something to keep himself busy as he came a little closer to the guy. Seeing his fingers extend into wires was some freaky sci fi shit. "Does it hurt? Being hooked up?"

"No. It's...no." Doug grimaced as the computer system rerouted his extrication request yet again, another layer of defense falling into place even as he dissolved the first. A once-familiar feeling of panic was building, and unconsciously, he tugged again at the interface. "It's just..." he paused again as his normally less-utilized linguistic skills sought words the other teen would understand. "It won't let me go."

"Sage is a fucking genius, she'll get you out," Pyro told him, watching him with a small, concerned frown. "You, uh. How are you feeling? Doug, right? You remember who you are and everything?"

"I remember..." Doug frowned again as he looked down at his hands, covered in circuitry that was both unfamiliar and not, all at once. "What did they do to me? Do you know?" A flood of information filled his mind at the question, and he froze, eyes widening. "Oh. Wow. Instant answer." Though in retrospect? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"You wanna share with the class?" Pyro asked. "You're not like the other mutates."

"I'm not..." He paused to consider that, realized he understood what the other teen meant, and swallowed hard. "I think...I think the nannites have something to do with that. I set a self-diagnostic running earlier, and they're repairing what they interpret as 'damage'." He swallowed again and closed his eyes. "Your friend - is she good with computers? Because it's reprogramming itself faster than I can keep up." Unless he stopped talking, anyway, but he was afraid if he did he'd get sucked in again.

Pyro chuckled. "She's the best. She'll get you out." It hadn't escaped his notice that the guy sounded more like a person now, the more they talked. So Pyro was going to keep going. "So, Doug. You don't look, or sound, Genoshan. Where you from?"

Right. He could do this. Focus on what the guy was asking, and not think about the fact that millions of nannites had taken up residence in his body. Easy enough. "Small town in New York. Salem Center." He forced a pained trace of a smile. "Don't feel bad if you've never heard of it, no one has. You?" Somewhere in New York City, his mind supplied, based on the guy's dialect, but it would take a few more minutes before he could place where.

Fuck him sideways with a chainsaw, was the guy for real? Salem fucking Center? The irony was a little too much. "Brooklyn, I guess. East Village, more recently. When did you get here?"

"What's the-" The system provided the information before he could finish asking, and he bit at his lip. "Apparently, about eight months ago. Full scholarship. This wasn't exactly what I thought they meant when they said they had a degree in computer science." Alright, as jokes went, it was lame, but he figured he had cause. "What's your name?"

"I'm Pyro," he replied, something in his tone daring the kid to have an issue with his mutant name.

"Codename. Cool," Doug replied, without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. One of the screens pulled up the previous night's speech, showing Magneto surrounded by his team of mutants. "I probably should've led off with a thank you. Sorry, I'm still sorting through all last night's data."

"I'm just glad you didn't lead with trying to kill me," Pyro stated offhandedly, still fiddling with his fireball. His eyes were drawn to the screen with his team on it for a moment. "It's not a codename. It's my name."

"Goes well with the fireball," Doug acknowledged. "You picked it?" He glanced, as well as he could, towards the door through which he assumed Pyro's friend was going to be coming. Because yeah, the whole not-panicking resolution? Getting harder and harder to keep.

"Yeah," Pyro confirmed, looking back at the guy. "I guess it's way on the nose, but..." He shrugged. "It feels like me."

"Hey, if you're going to pick your own name, sounds like the way to go." He bit at his lip and tugged experimentally at his fingers. Which didn't budge. Again. "Can you...keep talking if I go in and try to fix this?" Doug asked awkwardly, feeling more than a little embarrassed at the question.

"Hey, maybe just - wait until Sage gets here?" Pyro suggested. "Any minute now."

Doug's shoulders slumped. "Yeah." Just a minute or two. 60 seconds. 300, tops. He could do that, though the more his mind cleared and the realization of what was happening sank in, the more he wanted to toss the contents of his stomach all over the console. "Y'know, a year ago? I'm pretty sure I'd have given my left nut to be wired into a computer. It's gotta be one of those 'careful what you wish for' things."

"Never really got it," Pyro stated, just wanting to keep talking, keep Doug here with him until Sage got here. "The whole computer thing. I mean, they're useful, just... Not worth the real world."

"Yeah, but you've got the cool-ass fire powers, and are doing the whole save the world thing,"Doug pointed out. "The closest most of us get to that is gaming."

"Sure, my life was so glamorous on the streets I could never wish for something better," Pyro stated with a roll of his eyes. Maybe he'd feel differently about computers if he'd had access to them. But he hadn't, and he was fine with that.

Way to go, Doug, he told himself, wincing. Apparently, the mutate process hadn't done anything to keep him from putting his foot in his mouth. "Sorry, man, didn't know."

"No way you could know," Pyro grudgingly remarked. Just keep the guy talking so he didn't freak out and end up injuring himself, or whatever. "What about you? What was life like in Salem Center?" Salem fucking Center. Pyro still wasn't over it.

Doug snorted, grateful that Pyro didn't seem pissed but wishing he'd chosen a more interesting change of subject, or at least one that didn't set him to wondering about what his parents thought of him not having called for the last eight months. "Probably the most boring place on Earth," he admitted. "I mean, our claims to fame are an outlet mall, a decent coffee shop that isn't a Starbucks, and some private school out at the edge of town that hardly seems to have any students. Nothing interesting. But you're from the East Village? What's that like?"

By then, Sage had reached the information-processing hub; it had not escaped her attention that this particular pillar of the late Genegineer's authority in Genosha had remained active, for all the rest of the facility had gone dark. She had, however, assigned it a lower priority, as there remained some few basic needs of the general populace to be fulfilled following the collapse of the old regime. Still, the understated loyalty she felt for Pyro as her senior in the Brotherhood, and the knowledge of an abused mutant--or mutate, rather, though the distinction meant little enough to her--in seemingly imminent danger had been sufficient cause to reorder her short-term priorities.

"Pyro," she nodded, setting her portable tablet aside and taking in the numerous active display screens arrayed before the presumptive 'Doug', as well as the cables connecting his fingertips to the humming machinery. Without further preamble, she began interfacing with the manual keypad built into the apparatus, her fingertips a blur of motion. Dark eyes narrowed in concentration, and the cyberpath's normally impassive expression darkened into a frown.

"This may be more problematic than I anticipated."

"Problematic?" Doug's eyebrows climbed, his face paling. He'd automatically followed along with the girl's search, but wasn't sure what she'd seen that had alarmed her. "What do you mean, problematic?" He looked from her to Pyro with barely controlled panic.

"It means it's gonna take her maybe ten minutes instead of five seconds," Pyro replied, and threw Sage a Look. Stop making the guy panic. "Chill, man. I told you, she'll get you out."

She returned Pyro's look with a level one of her own, before fixing her attention again on the mutate and his technological predicament. "I meant only that this will be a more complicated undertaking than I initially anticipated. The nanites which facilitate Doug's interaction with this hub exhibit a level of sophistication I have yet to encounter in native Genoshan technology, though I should not be surprised. I have mainly been focused on their methods of activating weak or latent X-genes."

Sage folded her arms and considered the snaking cables between the young mutate and the computer banks. "Presently, your nanites' collective priority is maintaining your connection to the data network and cataloging what you perceive within it. I think the most expedient solution would be to re-designate that priority. You already possess the requisite understanding to communicate that much--they do, after all, collectively function as a biology-powered computer network in miniature within your body. It is simply a question of scale. More specifically, of grasping that scale sufficiently to overwrite the nanite's native programming."

Doug took a deep breath, letting that process for a moment, then nodded. "So instead of focusing on the external system and trying to rewrite its programming, focus inward." He could do that. The nanites were programmed, and he understood their language. "Any suggestions as to where I should redirect them? I've already deployed some of them to run a self-diagnostic, but it didn't require a high level of processing."

"A self-diagnostic would not be sufficiently demanding, in my opinion," Sage said. "I recommend setting them a random task, but one of excessive complexity. Perhaps calculating the expression of x-genes in randomly-selected mutates over the course of eight to ten generations, factoring in other known mutates as donors across successive iterations. That should be a task of adequate complexity to make possible your extrication. Though I suspect you will need some time to recover, afterward, as you are currently the nanites' principal power source."

"They're drawing power from the emergency backup to the primary grid right now," Doug pondered aloud, nodding. "Theoretically, they should continue to do so until I separate from the system. But if I shut that down first, it could potentially put the nanites into a low energy mode, which would impact their processing ability. The necessary data is already contained within my internal storage banks...it should work. I think," he admitted, his face screwing up in a grimace. "One way to find out, right?"

"Indeed," she nodded. "Do not worry; I will monitor your progress closely. And Pyro is also at hand to assist, should the need be required."

"Right." Doug offered Pyro a crooked smile, then turned back towards the monitors and closed his eyes. Right. He could do this. He turned his attention first to shutting down his personal access to the power coursing through the computer system, issuing an emergency disconnect due to unstable voltage to keep the nanites from overriding is instructions. Next, he began working at setting the processing task that Sage had recommended, using data from his research to establish the necessary parameters. The circuitry at his temple began to glow slightly, as did his arms beneath the coverall he was wearing, but by that point, he was too deep in his calculations to be aware of it.

Pyro wasn't sure what good he might be - other than if like, some bleeding needed to be stopped by way of fire - but he didn't say anything, just answered Doug's crooked smile with one of his own, trying to be reassuring. He also straightened up and paid closer attention, now that they had stopped talking about shit he didn't understand and something was about to happen.

Seemingly unperturbed by the glow of nanotechnology beneath the mutate's skin--a glow that intensified almost to the point that the flesh was rendered completely invisible by it--Sage was silent for several moments. Then, "Now, I think. Too much longer, and the nanites will reach the limits of their capacity, and reset back to their root programming. Pyro, if you would oblige me by incinerating the connective tethers midway, all at once. That should further overwhelm any crisis-response protocols which may be in play."

All right, then, something to do. Pyro nodded to Sage and flicked his wrist, stretching the small flame into a longer line of fine that circled back around into another fireball. "Just tell me when."

Sage watched Doug and the monitors before him with singular focus for a handful of beats before signalling Pyro sharply with a slender hand. "Now. All at once, if you can."

Pyro had expected something to happen first, a sign that Doug was disengaging from the computer, something that wouldn't make him feel like he wasn't about to burn the shit out of the guy. "You sure?" he had to ask with a wince, glancing at Sage.

Only a fraction of Doug's consciousness was directed towards the other two as he focused as much of his processing ability as he could on the task at hand, but he caught Pyro's question and nodded distractedly, pulling his hands back as far as he could and stretching the nanite technology to its thinnest. "Do it," he said, bracing himself for what was probably going to be the loss of all ten fingertips. If that was what it took, though...well, voice to text technology had come a long way. He'd manage.

Pyro steeled himself, muttered, "Your hands, man," and turned the temperature up on the fireball. As soon as it turned blueish-white, he stretched it into a line of flames that wrapped around the places where Doug's fingers disappeared into the computer. As far as he could from his actual hands, but Pyro had no idea what he was doing, really, and bracing himself for the possibility that Doug might start screaming in pain.

He had no issue roasting assholes who deserved it, but a mutant kid who'd been fucked with by said assholes? That was a whole different thing.

Doug did scream as the heat burned through the circuitry connecting him to the computer, sending a scorching wave of heat up through it and into his fingertips, hands, and arms, but even as he pulled his hands free and began shaking them, the nanites began repairing the damage and his fingers assumed what was more or less their normal appearance. Granted, they looked as if they'd been sunburned, and the gold circuitry was only slowly melting its way back beneath his skin, but...almost normal. He'd take it. He stared at them for a few long seconds, then took a deep gulp of breath and exhaled slowly, trying to pull himself together in a way that was not only physical but emotional, before turning to the other two. "Thanks," he offered hoarsely. And managed to cancel out the nanites impossible instructions before slowly toppling over off his chair.

Pyro ignored the way his heart was thudding so fucking hard in his chest, and the back of his eyes prickled, and killed the fire after a beat. Shit, was the guy okay? Had he just like, helped kill him or something? He took a step towards him, unsure what to do. "Um, Sage?"

The cyberpath demonstrated no such hesitation, immediately reaching down to settle Doug on his back on the floor. "I think we acted in time. Alert the Hammer Bay General Hospital that we may require paramedic assistance; I will attempt to assess his condition, and gauge whether it is safe for us to attempt to move him on our own." None of the Genoshan hospitals were operating with a full staff, presently, and even an emergency call might not be answered with sufficient haste. Still, until they had a better sense of the physiological consequences of severing the mutate's tether to the island's information net, it was best to take every possible precaution.

Pyro pulled out his phone and dialed the emergency services, gaze coming back to Doug's hands as he listened to the ringtone. They might look better already, but he could still hear the guy scream. But they'd get him sorted now. Sage said so.