Chapter 22: Ten Minutes
Both Edmond and Rufus stood frozen, hats slowly coming off as they stared.
"Outta the way!"
"Shit. Sorry!"
Rufus barely jumped aside as a heavy steel pipe swung past, a pair of workers hauling dozens of them like they were a bundle of firewood.
Rufus whistled low, eyes flicking between the pile steel beams and the kid.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but those girders weigh, what—half a ton?"
Edmond didn't answer. He was watching too closely.
Levi stood over the steel beam, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers. Some dockworkers slowed their steps, waiting to see what would happen.
Levi exhaled slow. Dropped into a squat. His fingers wrapped around the steel.
For a beat—just a beat—he stayed still.
A quick breath.
Then—he lifted.
The metal rose. A little strain. No shaking limbs. He straightened in one motion, tossing the girder up to his shoulder like it was a sack of flour.
Silence.
Rufus' mouth hung open for half a second before he burst out laughing, slapping his hat against his leg.
"Hot damn! Ole Timmy's got a fight on his hands!"
The dockworkers watched, stunned. A few swore under their breath. Jim Hardwick, the foreman, just nodded.
Crimson Song's bounty? As good as theirs.
While Rufus was counting coin in his head, Edmond felt something else creeping in.
That arm…
It wasn't just an upgrade. Wasn't just an advantage. It was a promise.
No matter how much Moira wanted to deny it, Levi wasn't getting out of this life clean. That arm was permanent, and permanent things demanded use.
You don't graft a weapon to your body just to let it rust.
He knew this was coming, but the reality of it hit hard.
'Kids destined for trouble.'
Bending down to grab another girder, Levi paused when he heard Rufus hollerin'.
Before he even thought about it, he was already grinning, already moving toward them, arm outstretched like a kid showing off a new toy.
"Check it out! Can't even say it's the same arm."
He held it up for Rufus, amber eyes beaming like he'd just caught his first fish.
Slapping his leg again with his hat, Rufus whisted low. He looked at the arm like it was something horribly precious.
"Slicker than a greased-up pig, kid."
His grin faltered a little. He glanced at Jim, who was off talking with Edmond.
"Don't you think showin' off ain't the best idea?"
"Don't worry. Mr. Hardwick had me sign a contract with the Fairweathers. Since I'm an official employee, he's got a duty to protect me—says so right in the contract."
Rufus blinked, then turned, shouting over to Edmond.
"You hear this, Edmond?!"
But the two men were already headed their way.
"Jim just told me. Congrats, kid. Working weekends to pay Maggie isn't a bad idea."
Rufus grinned wider. This damn kid just kept getting better. Paying his own way, not asking for handouts. Hell, he might start calling him son at this rate.
Rufus clapped Levi on the back, his laughter booming.
"Leaves plenty of time for Uncle Rufus to teach ya the ropes."
Jim snorted, shaking his head.
"I wouldn't advise learnin' nothin' from this knucklehead. Follow Edmond if ya want to pick up somethin' worthwhile. Well—'cept when it comes to women. I'll give ya that, Gunn."
"Not sure if I'd call that praise, but I'll take it. Hope you ain't still salty over the other night."
Levi glanced between Rufus and Jim, confused.
"You got lucky, that's all."
Then, turning back to Levi, he jabbed a finger at him.
"Now you—I want you here first thing Saturday. If you're late your first day, I'll fire your ass."
Levi swallowed hard.
"Yes sir! I'll be the first one here!"
The three men exchanged a few more words as Levi ran back to the pile of girders. He grabbed and pulled his shirt back on, his mood riding high.
'My first real job. Feels pretty good...Dockhand...'
"Come on! Maggie wants to talk to you two before we leave."
He nearly skipped off toward her shop, Edmond and Rufus bidding the foreman farewell before trailing after him.
"And here I was dreadin' this part. Bet the kids tab's gonna be sky-high."
"We'll have to make sure to thank her properly."
The three of them stepped back into her shop, the place still thick with the scent of burnt metal and steam. She was already elbow-deep in Levi's diagnostics, muttering in French as she adjusted a series of dials and readouts.
Their gratitude was met with a quick wave of her hand, brushing off their thanks like an afterthought.
She didn't even look up as she rattled off a few instructions for them, reminding Levi to check in for adjustments and telling Edmond to make sure he avoided anything reckless for at least a week.
Edmond agreed and was about to give further thanks when she all but shooed them out, already engrossed in the intricate diagnostics.
With that, they made their way back through town, the weight of the last few days settling into something more manageable.
Levi moved a little lighter, a little more sure of himself. That feeling only grew when Edmond passed him his own hat—a solid, well-worn piece that fit just right.
And slung over his shoulder? His poncho, stitched and patched up, the fabric smelling of the orphanage. Kati-Bird had worked her magic, the once-tattered garment now whole again.
The orphanage came into view, its familiar creaks and warmth welcoming them back.
As the three stepped through the gate into the yard, their moods were settled, the quiet easy between them. That is until one of them couldn't take it anymore.
"Had your fun yet?!"
Rufus stopped dead, staring at Levi like the kid had just spat in his drink.
"What?"
Levi kept walking, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"You smug little—"
Rufus jabbed a finger at him.
"Your prototypes! Did ya find out what they do?!"
Levi paused at the orphanage door, turning just enough to throw a look over his shoulder. Grinning like a jackass.
"Be much more fun to show ya."
And with that, he stepped inside.
He made a straight shot for the basement door before anyone could stop him.
Edmond picked up the pace, following close behind.
"Hold on, kid—Maggie said—"
"They're back!"
"Where'd you go?"
"Levi's back!"
The kids swarmed.
Edmond took the brunt of it, arms up as tiny bodies latched on, voices tumbling over each other. Levi shot him a quick, guilty look—then bolted through the door.
"Watch it, kids! Just farted!"
Rufus laughed, mostly at Edmond's expense, as he skated past the chaos.
"Eeeeeewwww!!!"
A collective shriek of disgust cleared the path, the kids scrambling away from him.
"Traitor!"
Edmond's voice rang out just before he vanished under the onslaught, drowned in a sea of questions and grabbing hands.
"Muhahahaha!"
Rufus basked in his victory, shoving the basement door open and jumping through. He raced down the stairs and burst through the double doors.
Scanning the dimly lit mine, his eyes landing on Levi at the far end—bowie-knives in hand, stance set, waiting.
"Took ya long enough!"
Levi signaled to Timmy in the corner. The steambot remained motionless, amber veins pulsing slow and steady beneath its cables.
"If I spar with him, it won't count as the test, right?"
"Weren't no limit on how many tries ya get. Go right ahead."
Rufus stayed put, leaning against the handrail, pulling out a smoke as he settled in to watch from above.
"You can adjust his settings to beginner. Won't count no matter what that way."
Levi nodded, jogging over to the machine. Flipping open a plate on its back, he scanned the levers, his fingers moving quick.
Metal clicked as he slammed the panel shut. Timmy shuddered to life, steam venting from his joints as his eyes flickered awake. His frame shifted, adjusting, metal groaning under the weight of movement.
'This should put him at the level of a normal T-8 set to veteran. I never made it past professional before on a normal one… Let's see what this new body can do.'
T-8s had three standard training settings—Beginner, Professional, and Veteran. Other models offered more refined adjustments, but the T-8 remained the most common model for one reason: ease of use.
The gap between settings was huge. Each level pushed the bot's reflexes, speed, and strength to a noticeable extreme.
But Timmy?
With his upgraded Pneuma Core, setting him to Beginner made him fight like a standard bot on Veteran. Maybe even tougher.
The steambot flexed, joints hissing, its stance indicating it was ready for orders. Levi rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his arm settle into place, the faint hiss of vapor pulsing beneath.
A deep breath.
And for a moment—his mind drifted.
Back to that morning.
----
After releasing the first valve and enduring what could easily rank among the worst pain of his life, Levi recovered, faster than expected. His breath steadied, his vision cleared, but the lingering sting of vapor slicing through his veins remained.
Maggie wasted no time.
She slapped his chestplate back into place, detaching the metal slab with a sharp CLANK. When he tried to sit up, she shoved him back down, her face unreadable beneath her goggles.
"Everything alr—"
"Shh!"
She pressed her Vaporguard hand to his chest. A thin cable extended from the side of her visor, clicking into a port on her shoulder. A faint hiss came from her fingers, syncing with the quiet thrum of his Pneuma Core.
The air in the workshop stilled. Levi barely breathed.
Eventually Maggie exhaled, long and slow.
"Okay. Seems you will live. For now, at least."
Her lips curled in that maddening, unreadable smirk.
"Now, flex your muscles. Show me how big and strong you are, Levi Wilson."
He blinked.
'The hell?'
She didn't elaborate—just kept her hand firm against his chest, her expression flirty. But something about the blacksteel plating beneath her fingers felt... funny.
It was warm. Too warm.
Another heat crept up his neck as he grudgingly obeyed, flexing his body.
Her goggles flickered, data scrolling too fast for him to follow. Her eyes darted left and right, taking it all in.
"Ooh la la. So zis is how far zey 'ave pushed the tech..."
Her voice dropped, more to herself than him.
Levi narrowed his eyes.
"What's that mean?"
Maggie pulled her hand back, lowering her goggles as her eyes swept over his body.
"What it means, my friend..."
She trailed off, considering her words. Then, more certain, she nodded to herself.
"Now zat it is active, from what I can tell, zis prototype; it is not an overlay like any I 'ave seen before."
Her tone shifted, a careful edge creeping in.
"Every muscle. Not just ze groups of zem. Each one has its own overlay. Normally, ze entire limb would share one system, no? But yours?"
Her fingers fidgeted. A bead of sweat.
"Zey weave through you."
She hesitated, just a breath, forcing a grin.
"I 'ave no idea how strong you will be, but... it will be shocking!"
The words were meant to distract, keep him from digging. From remembering.
But Maggie couldn't help herself. A cold shiver coiled at the base of her spine, slithering upward at the realization.
Each muscle. Not the whole arm. Not broad overlays. Each individual fascical, wrapped, altered, restructured.
She swallowed hard.
How long had they worked on him? How many surgeries? How much time, pain, and precision had it taken to produce a person like this?
Levi, however, was lost in the possibilities.
From what he knew, standard strength augmentations—even military-grade overlays, the best out there—capped at around 600 pounds. Meaning the user can easily lift that amount of weight.
And that was with one.
His mind raced. If every single muscle had its own?
A wild grin split his face as he flexed his arm, watching the blacksteel plating shift seamlessly.
'I'm gonna have to be careful.'
"I can tell immediately, zat zere is a drawback, zough. You must be careful until you activate ze rest of your augments."
"Drawback?"
"If you strain yourself too long, you will overheat your pneuma core. Basically, you risk a heart attack."
Cold water.
'Well, that turned quick.'
Made sense, though. Nothing came free. Even if he'd already paid for it.
"So, let's say I'm in a fight where I gotta go all out. How long I got?"
"I would 'ave to run some tests to get an accurate—"
"Just guess."
The engineer hesitated, then sighed.
"If I must… maybe ten minutes. But zat's playing it safe. Until I get proper readings, I suggest you don't push it past zat long."
"Just to be safe, huh?"
Wasn't long.
But this was just the beginning.
----
'Ten minutes.'
Levi stood across from Timmy, the rush hitting him all at once.
His blades felt just right in his hands.
His body felt even better.
There was a strange awareness now, like he'd finally tuned in to something that had always been there, just ignored. Ever since the stitcher got ahold of him, things had been changing—changes he wasn't ready to admit.
Seems that time had passed.
"Non-lethal hand-to-hand combat. Weapons: twin sabers."
Timmy clanked to life, servos whirring as he lifted his sabers, settling into a stance.
Levi grinned.
"Let's light this furnace!"