Upheaval 5 (1/2)

A certain elven researcher was seated on the cold, metal floor. The way she was hugging her knees and sobbing quietly into them was entirely unbefitting behavior of a woman of her age and stature, but was a clear indicator of her distraught state of mind. And kneeling right next to her was a shapeshifter whose scarfaced Facade would not normally endear him to others.

“It’s okay, Honoka,” he said in a soothing tone while stroking her deep blue hair. “You’re safe. I’m here. We’re all here for you.”

This pathetic scene was a direct result of Specimen 68’s hat trick, which had very nearly given her a heart attack. Her mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that the monster could not only slip in and out of the Stasis Field at will, but could do so without triggering the alarm. As it turned out, however, it was nothing more than a prank. The headgear the creature was sporting was actually a barely passable imitation it had created out of its body, but the elf had failed to recognize it as such at first glance. The actual top hat that Zilla left behind had been lying on the floor next to the entrance, and as such was not immediately visible upon entering the room. It wasn’t until he calmly pointed it out to Honoka that she realized she had been tricked, bamboozled, hoodwinked, and otherwise flim-flammed.

However, rather than sigh in relief or shout in outrage, the elf ended up breaking down into a fit of tears and sobs.

Much like Malon, she wasn’t a combatant, and her nerve had not been tempered by training or battle. The mere implication that the Stasis Field wasn’t as infallible as she believed it to be was enough to push her over the edge and completely ruin her composure. Though the nature of her work made her somewhat better prepared for dealing with monsters, the overwhelming horror she felt for that brief moment had rocked her to her core.

“Seems like you failed its test too, didn’t you?” said Zilla with a bemused smile.

“You’re not helping!” she wailed. “This is all your fault anyway, you retarded fashionista! *Huck!* You and your careless-! *Huck!* Your careless- *Huck!* Just-! Just go point that stupid face of yours at the wall or some- *Huck!* something, will you?!”

“Alright, alright,” he said while backing away slowly. “If that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

Seeing Zilla’s retreating back instantly made Honoka feel bad about her outburst. Of course she didn’t mean to say those hurtful things, but her anger had suddenly flared up and caught her off guard. She wasn’t even all that mad at him, not really. In fact, the person she was most upset with was actually herself. After all, the deceived had only themselves to blame, and Honoka had fallen for Boxxy’s ruse hook, line, and sinker.

And, as if crying about it wasn’t pathetic enough, she actually went and lashed out at her only real friend, who was just trying to help.

Honoka kept sobbing quietly for several more minutes, silently chastising herself all the while. Once she had finally calmed down, the elf rose to her feet while trying her best not to succumb to the embarrassment of having broken down like a nervous wreck in front of 15 other people. She was already used to showing her pitiful side to Zilla, but the guards and colleagues currently trying their best to avoid her gaze were another story altogether.

“Uh, Taniphil, was it?” she called out in a quivering voice.

“It’s Tanithil, ma’am,” responded one of her assistants, a tall and lanky elf with greasy black hair. He wore the same standard-issue pure-white lab coat that all Foundation alchemists wore.

“Right, sorry. You brought a SIB, right?”

“Of course, Professor Honoka. Shall I get it for you?”

“Please do. And start unpacking the equipment while you’re at it.”

“Right away.”

Several seconds later, Honoka was handed a small jar that appeared to have a tiny storm cloud floating inside it. She opened it right away, releasing its gaseous contents and allowing them to hover in the air directly above her. They rapidly expanded until they became ten times their original volume, then just as abruptly began raining on top of Honoka, complete with a series of tiny lightning strikes.

Roughly 30 seconds later, their magical payload had been completely exhausted, and the one-man storm disappeared without a trace. The elf was left completely drenched in liquid that was far too orange and was evaporating far too quickly to be plain old water. All things said and done it took less than a minute for the Shower In a Bottle to run its course, leaving Honoka’s body and clothes thoroughly cleansed of grime, dirt, tears, and snot alike.

This was yet another invention based on Tol-Saroth’s legacy, more specifically the suit of perma-clean leather armor that Zilla wore pretty much around the clock. Foundation researchers had managed to replicate its weapons-grade cleansing enchantment in liquid form, all through the miracle of Magichem Alchemy. It was an area of expertise that dealt with the creation of many-a-strange potions and elixirs, which usually required a generous application of the Alchemist’s magic power in addition to the actual ingredients.

And although a Shower In a Bottle didn’t seem all that impressive at first glance, most veteran adventurers would disagree. Those men and women would surely pay a small fortune for the ability to almost instantly wash off the sweat, blood, and filth that usually clung to them after a particularly grueling Quest. That went double for melee fighters, as they usually found themselves literally knee deep in monster guts. This product was also convenient for travelling merchants and long-distance peddlers as well, since they sometimes had to go weeks or even months without being able to bathe or wash their clothes. And trying to sell their wares while smelling like wet dog was not considered good business practice.

As for the Foundation, their Alchemists were already in love with it. The Shower In a Bottle had not only proven to be completely safe and have a long shelf life, but it also served as an all-purpose disinfectant. Malon’s overzealousness towards facial hair might have been a bit extreme, but no mixologist in their right mind would risk contaminating their experiments with foreign substances. Honoka as well was particularly fond of it, although that was because she was often way too caught up in her work to bother with baths or laundry.

Granted, this product wasn’t quite as refreshing as the real thing, but it was close enough.

“Hmm? What’s that fruity smell?” she asked while sniffing around lightly. “Is that… Hylt fruit?”

“Good guess, Professor,” said Tanithil with a small smile. “The boys in the R&D department have been experimenting with certain additives. Way I hear, they plan to release it to the general public as a cosmetic product, rather than a strictly hygienic one.”

“Strange, I hadn’t heard anything about it.”

“That’s probably because they came up with this particular batch just this morning,” explained Honoka’s assistant. “They also have a strawberry and herbal essence version in the works, too.”

“I see, so that’s why.”

She had been thoroughly preoccupied preparing for Specimen 68’s treatment, so she hadn’t had a chance to catch up with other departments quite yet.

“So… what do you think?” asked the greasy-haired elf. “I kind of promised the guy I know I’d let him know the, uh, test results.”

“It’s very nice,” responded Honoka while cupping her chin in thought. “The familiar scent of the Hylt fruit had a pleasant, calming effect. It was just what I needed after my little, uh, episode. However, the liquid still feels really slimy and gross against my skin. Tell them they still need to work on that.”

“Will do. Then, if you were to give it a score, what would it be?”

“9/10, would bottle my shower again.”

Now that Honoka had finished recovering from her mental breakdown assisting her colleague with a vital experiment, she turned her attention towards the portable alchemy station and finally got down to business.

Normally one would question whether she truly was in the right frame of mind to handle potentially toxic substances, but neither the guards nor her colleagues said a single word. The former were scared of speaking out of turn, as they were partly to blame that she was so upset in the first place. The image they had of her was that of a strict-yet-fair aunt or older sister that only got mad for their own sake. Sure, she threatened them every now and then, but she still treated them like people rather than samples, which in turn made them want to look out for her as much as they could.

As for the three junior Alchemists, they already knew that absorbing herself in her work was how Honoka dealt with pretty much all her personal issues. Her pale skin, overweight body, heavy bags under her eyes and questionable personal hygiene were all signs of her workaholic tendencies. Indeed, just as expected, the instant she saddled up to the unpacked field lab her eyes immediately became focused, glistening with the same manic spark that only showed itself at times like this. Her hands drifted over the various vials and beakers that were set out atop a foldable table as she quickly took stock of each container’s contents. She then began moving her arms with short, efficient motions while her quiet voice idly leaked out of her plump lips.

“3 grams of powdered ent root… 24 milliliters of minotaur blood… 4 fresh Moonblossom petals… 50 milliliters of manticore venom… 352 grams of mithril shavings…”

A soft clanking and rustling accompanied her disjointed words as she called out not only what ingredient she was adding into the cauldron, but how much of it as well. It was impressive how she was able to take such precise measurements without using any tools. Her trained fingers told her exactly how much the contents of each vial and beaker weighed while her eyes were able to discern the precise volume of the material. Combining that information with her intimate knowledge of each ingredient’s properties, including their density, was what allowed her to pull this off so perfectly. Of course, there were some cases where this trick couldn’t be applied, but she wasn’t beyond using proper measuring tools when the need arose.

Her almost machine-like workflow was a mesmerising sight, and the vast majority of the Foundation grunts couldn’t help but stare at her slack jawed. It was like she was a completely different person. The image they had of her before was steadily being eroded and supplanted by a far more impressive one. Namely that of a maestro of mixtures, a virtuoso of vials, and an artist of alchemy.

In other words, she was really fucking good at her Job, and even brutes like these could tell she had poured thousands of hours into her craft to reach this stage. They honestly started to wonder how come she hadn’t reached Level 100 with that level of skill. Or better yet, why she allowed that jerk Malon to boss her around in the first place. It was truly a mystery to them why that creepy fucker was a director, while Honoka, who supposedly had seniority over him, was still just a department head.

“Catalyze!”

Their silent reverie was interrupted by her chant, as she used one of her Skills on the multi-colored mixture in front of her. The cauldron’s contents let out a soft blue light as they mixed together through the power of an Alchemist’s magic, blending together into a lime-green substance in a matter of seconds. Honoka then grabbed a silver rod and began stirring the liquid with irregular movements while simultaneously adding yet more ingredients to it with her other hand.

“Air Bubble!”

At one point she used a mid-Level Shaman Spell to seal off the simmering cauldron’s top with a magical membrane. It kept the bright yellow fumes from escaping out of the top of the silver-plated vessel while allowing her stirring stick and hands to continue augmenting the mixture undisturbed. This incantation was typically used to protect against poison gas or allow the user to breathe underwater for a short time, as it only allowed solid objects to pass through it. At the same time, its properties were perfectly suited to deliver airborne alchemical creations, which was precisely why Honoka had gone out of her way to learn the Spell the hard way, without actually taking up the Shaman Job.

And that was but one of her small repertoire of seemingly random Spells that were useful to her as an Alchemist.

“Stun Bolt!”

Next, she blasted the silver cauldron a short-ranged burst of electricity. The highly-conductive metal transmitted the charge into the mixture, causing a chemical reaction that resulted in a number of loud, consecutive bangs within the vessel. A gust of thick, purple miasma rose up and pressed against the Air Bubble, mixing in with and subsequently devouring the lingering yellow smoke.

The guards had more or less broken out of their trance-like state by that point, and were currently whispering among themselves, exchanging words of hushed praise and astonishment.

“Nipple salads!”

Boxxy’s obnoxiously loud and thoroughly nonsensical profanity penetrated the thick door behind them, causing all of their heads to turn towards it as if they were on a swivel. That prank from earlier had gotten to them too, although none of them had showed quite an extreme reaction as Honoka. Well, to them it was just one more thing they had to add to the growing list of reasons why interacting with Specimen 68 was a bad idea. One by one their gazes turned back towards the female alchemist, who had thoroughly ignored the monster’s obscene words. Which was for the best, really.

Whether Boxxy had shouted that out just to mess with whoever might be listening or because it was demanding a literal plate of diced up teats was not something she would want to wonder about.

“I said it before, but Professor Honoka really is something else, isn’t she?” whispered one of grunts.

“I know. None of the others would let us watch them work,” replied the man to his right in an equally hushed tone. “And I get the impression it’s not just because they don’t want to be disturbed.”

“I know what you mean. I doubt they actually mean anything by it, though. They’re probably just worried we might steal state secrets or something.”