A week has passed since Erica first woke up in the Zellas hospital. The day after the exercise with the charges, she was deemed fit to leave the hospital, as much as it seemed to baffle the doctor who cleared her. Her, Damon, and a couple of Altean Army mechans traveled for four days nearly non-stop to reach their destination, courtesy of the mechans driving and not needing sleep. The trip was done in an armoured car built to transport five, painted the same beige as the mechans. It was largely silent when driving, just the hum of motors and maiga harnesses providing some background noise as the car jostled along. Erica had never been in such a vehicle, and at one point needed to have the car stop so she could expunge the breakfast she had earlier. She avoided getting anything on her new clothes, consisting of a blue long sleeved V-neck shirt like the ones she liked from home, black combat pants, and combat boots reminiscent of those that came with her guard uniform, all courtesy of donations made to the Altean Army when requested. The right sleeve of her shirt was pinned in place to avoid having too much material flopping about as she moved. Damon had a new longcoat as well, though it was identical to the previous one, minus the hole Erica had put in the last one.

The trip was grand in scale, with them starting at Zellas, west of Copperwood, then heading south to reach Dy'As Ridge, the massive mountain range that formed the intersection of four of the world's five continents, making a rough cross running north-south, east-west. They were on the northern continent, Bladefell, however their destination was on western Flamehaven. In order to reach the other continent, they had to take The Throughways, a series of tunnels that went through the mountains, and bridges that crossed the diagonally running channels of water that cut through the Ridge, called Crehss' Cross. Running The Throughways took most of a day taking one of the middle-lengths tunnels, as that was the closest to where they'd started and would spit them out on track for headquarters. After the final two days of travel traversing Flamehaven a bit north of the equatorial heat, they made it to headquarters.

Erica didn't even recognize they were at a base initially, as it was camouflaged to blend in with the tall granite plateau it was built into. A disguised gate opened, breaking the illusion, and they rolled into an underground complex hidden from sight. Erica was somewhat nervous about entering such an enclosed space, but figured that if she were in any danger with Damon and his mechans, she would have never woken up in the hospital. They drove through a lit tunnel until they reached the garage. From there, Erica was given a rudimentary tour of the facility. She was shown her room, which was sparsely furnished with a very basic bed and simple dresser. She requested a vanity to be added, and one had since been brought in. The common room, kitchen, laundry, and conference rooms were all given quick explanations. There was not much in the way of entertainment, so Erica made do in her downtime reading the rather dry selection of books in the common room or fiddling with the dice and playing cards on a table there. The kitchen was mostly just a stove, a nearly empty refrigerator, and cabinets stuffed with non-perishable rations. Some basic pots, pans, and utensils, enough to prepare the slightly more involved rations and little else, were also stored there.

Erica wasn't in any of those rooms at the moment. Instead, she was in the base's gymnasium, practicing throwing bolts of maiga at Damon, who had graduated her from charging while they were still driving, saying they had to make the most of their time. Erica's arm was strained from hurling bolt after bolt at Damon, who either grounded the attacks or caught and dissipated them. She had practiced a little with using other elements, briefly flinging flame, water, and earth at her mentor before settling back into lightning. For whatever reason, the bolts felt right. The other elements, while she could see uses for them, didn't fit her as well, as though they were tools with ill fitting grips. So, for the time being, she was using what she felt most comfortable with. She had just conjured two bolts at once in an attempt to surprise Damon, but he caught them both, mashed them together, and planted the resulting maiga ball into the ground.

"I commend your creativity," he said, standing back to his full height, "but stick to the exercise, if you would."

"Oh, come on!" Erica exclaimed, "Does nothing surprise you?"

"After witnessing as much combat as I have, it takes some rather novel ideas to surprise me. Throwing twice the number of projectiles at me is nothing I haven't seen before."

Erica was about to ask what he had seen, but decided she shouldn't ask questions she didn't want the answer to.

"Those bolts," Damon continued, "I understand you tend to shape through your hand. Tell me, have you tried using both?"

Erica's mood instantly soured. "In case you forgot, a certain omnicidal monster took it upon himself to make me an arm lighter, so I can't exactly use both."

"I remember. Try to use your missing arm anyway."

"How can I use something I don't have?"

"In this case, with some practice. Remember the first exercise I had you do in the hospital? Do that again, but use your right hand. Picture your arm, the maiga flowing through it, both your body's and what you're channeling. See the arm the body remembers, and wield it."

"This is stupid..." Erica, exasperated, dropped her left hand and looked to where a raised right would be. She halfheartedly attempted to feel energy in the missing body part, only to find she could actually feel something. A tingling along her arm was felt, even though it wasn't there. Blinking a couple of times, she put her full focus into it, and began to see the maiga in the room more clearly. Among the floating motes of dull light, she saw lines of energy where her raised arm ought to have been, complete with an open hand, palm to the ceiling. Experimentally, she flipped the hand in her mind, the mental command replicated with the maiga ghost. She attempted more movements with the phantom arm, all successfully replicating the motions her arm would have made. Holding her palm in front of her again, she now attempted to focus maiga into the space just above her ghost palm, and the energy obeyed. Before she knew it, she had a melon-sized ball of power floating in front of her. She grasped it and started waving it around, astounded by the ease with which she could do this. It was as if she'd never lost the arm, merely had it become nearly invisible. She allowed the ball of maiga to dissipate into the background of the room.

"Believe me now?" Damon said, having watched with arms crossed the whole time.

Erica felt sheepish. "Yeah... sorry, I should have been more open to that idea..."

"You've got it now. Now, we continue where we left off, this time using your right arm only."

Erica agreed, and the two of them played their deadly game of catch for a couple of hours before Damon nodded in approval.

"You've picked up on shaping in general fairly quickly, but this was even faster than I'd hoped for. You're well on your way to being able to handle a prosthetic limb."

Erica perked up. "A replacement arm?"

"Ha, what else? It will be powered, of course. By you and your shaping."

"Wait, I'll need to feed it myself?"

"Constantly. It shouldn't be too demanding most of the time, it should be like using the original arm in terms of mental strain. As for shaping, you have such a tendency toward higher amounts of maiga flowing around, you shouldn't have a problem outside of trying to overcharge the limb."

"Overcharge?"

"Getting more strength or speed out of it, though I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Let's get some water, then I'll show you something in the workshop."

Erica's curiosity and anticipation spiked. The workshop had been off-limits to her before, with an explanation of "it's hazardous" to keep her out. She wasn't so bull-headed as to go barging in when told not to, especially since Damon had emphasized that she wasn't to go in there. While he was a bit blunt and lacking tact, he knew what he was doing, and was her boss. Perhaps he wanted the arm to be a surprise? That seemed a silly reason to keep her out of the workshop, but it was a possibility.

The two of them went to the kitchen to get a drink of water, then they went down the hallway. They passed the laundry, the common room, and the conference room before walking the granite halls for a bit until they reached a door labeled "Workshop". When Damon opened the door and stepped in, Erica was a little disappointed to see that the door hadn't been locked. She could have just gone in? At any time?

She followed him inside. The workshop was a large room with uncountable tools, ranging from the smallest wrench to an industrial lathe. There was a smithy, many workbenches, and harsh overhead lights. There was so much here, she had to look around briefly to see Damon's darker silhouette strutting toward one of the further workbenches. After catching up, she saw that there was a towel covering a long lump on the bench.

"Didn't have a tarp or something for that?" Erica joked.

Damon shrugged. If he understood that that was meant to be at least light-hearted, he didn't show it. "It matters more what's under it than what I used as a cover."

"Never mind. When did you have time to work on this? We've only been here a few days, and you've spent most of that time training me..."

"It's important we get you back to full functionality, so this project became top priority. Any time I could spend in here working on this I took."

Erica wasn't sure how to feel about this. She became flustered. "Did you sleep?"

"No."

"What?!" Erica wheeled on him. "What do you mean, 'no'?!"

Damon raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "I mean I worked on this rather than waste time lying down? I don't require the same things a regular body does. Sleep is often wasted time when I could either direct the Army or pursue Diezens."

"Sleep is rest and recovery for your body from the day! If you've been as busy as you say, you should be dead on your feet now!"

He shrugged. "I'm fine, as you can see."

She couldn't argue against that. He seemed as rested and aware as when she met him. "You said you don't need the same things a regular person does. What do you mean by that?"

"Like you and your shaping, I have my own quirks. However, that's not what I brought you here for; I brought you here to unveil this...!" He said as he pulled the towel back with the least flourish Erica had ever seen someone muster for a big reveal.

That could be forgiven for the effort that had clearly been put into the prosthetic arm that lay on the bench before her. It was made of slightly blueish metal, with a narrow, downright skeletal upper arm with a ball socket on the side mimicking the original arm's bone structure. The elbow was a black metal encased stone servo leading to a much more bulked out forearm. The forearm was somewhat squared, with armour plating on the top and sides, in a darker blue metal than the majority of the arm. The hand looked both durable and very realistic in its shape and proportions, each digit built to an exacting standard.

"This... this is for me?" Erica asked, unsure.

"For none other."

"It's... different," Erica mused, looking over the bone-thin upper arm compared to the slightly bulked out forearm. The hand somehow looked familiar. She couldn't shake that idea as she looked at it more closely. "Aren't prosthetics usually trying to mimic the original limb a little more closely than this?"

"Due to the altanite I used in its construction, I needed to reduce weight where I could. The upper arm is still plenty durable, even without the bulk or armour of the forearm," Damon explained.

"The what in its construction now?"

"Altanite is a metal we have exclusive access to in some mines north-west of here. We've staked a claim to the entire region altanite can be found in, so we don't have to worry about it falling into the hands of the nations of the world, or worse, the Diezens."

"What makes it so special that you need to hoard it?"

"The metal is incredibly dense and heat resistant, making it excellent for defensive use or to make mechans. However, that comes at the cost of vastly increased weight compared to steel. So, most often we use it in an alloy, to get some of the benefits of the altanite without making it prohibitively heavy."

"So it's some kind of super metal that you just happened to find and be able to use without anyone else having access to it? What about battlefield salvage?"

Damon shrugged, "Altanite requires immense heat to work, more than most blast furnaces are capable of. We also take pains to recover as much as possible from our own casualties. I've seen the occasional altanite-alloy thing make it to market from opportunistic smiths, but it's largely a non-issue."

Erica shook her head in disbelief. The hand of the prosthetic was still bothering her.

"It should be a perfect fit," Damon continued, "I replicated the measurements of the original limb as closely as possible."

Erica stood still, dumbfounded for a moment. She turned to face Damon, and plotted out her next words with lethal precision. "The measurements... of the original limb."

"Yes?"

"The original limb, that was severed."

"... Yes?"

"You meticulously measured, my fucking severed arm?!" Erica shouted, now truly in disbelief.

Damon, sensing something was amiss, looked between the prosthetic and the bewildered woman in front of him. "How else was I going to be able to make a new one to your specifications?"

"Oh, I don't know, ask me?! You could have measured my left arm! It's close enough! Please tell me you didn't do anything else creepy with that arm..."

"I had it cremated after it looked like you were to survive, otherwise I would have returned it to you for burial."

"Ah, I see. Just destroy some of me before I even wake up, that's great!"

Damon was thoroughly confused. "Did... you want it for something?"

"No! It's just weird what you did! You don't just go around, manhandling severed limbs, even if it's to get measurements for a replacement! Would you do that if I still had my arm on me?"

"No? Because then you wouldn't need a replacement?"

"Oh, gods... How are you this smart, but this dumb?"

"I don't follow."

"I see that... permission is important when it comes to touching someone, severed limb or no. Got it? Handling the arm to dispose of it, fine. Getting all close and personal with it to get measurements I did not clear you to take? Major violation of personal space."

"Oh? I've never had this complaint before. Though, I guess I haven't had to do something like this before either..."

Erica gave an agitated sigh. "Well, it's done now. Thank you for the arm, I can see that a lot of work went into it. Don't go measuring me without my say-so again, okay?"

Damon nodded, a perplexed expression plastered over his face. "There's an altanite-alloy coated stone socket that needs to be surgically attached before the arm can be installed. When do you think you'd be ready for the procedure? There's a nearby village who's doctor I trust who can help me with it, so we'd be able to go get it done fairly quickly after your approval."

Surgically attached? "Whatever, let's get it done ASAP."

"Right. It's getting late, so we'll go early tomorrow. You are dismissed."

As Erica turned to leave, she wondered how she ever got caught up in all this.

Oh, right. The gods spun their celestial pickaxe and decided she was the best candidate for whatever plans they had.

Two weeks pass since the socket was installed in Erica's shoulder. It had taken some getting used to, especially the weird invasive sensations that came from it, though Damon had insisted that was normal for this type of modification. That was the word he'd used, modification. Erica didn't like feeling like a piece of equipment, but relented and didn't chew Damon out for it. Currently, she sat on the workbench next to the arm. Instead of her usual blue shirt, she was wearing a grey tank top to give Damon access to her shoulder, where he was lining up the prosthetic with the socket there. There was a clank, a rough shove, and Damon announced that the arm had been installed.

Erica looked at the limp mechanical limb dangling from her shoulder. It was certainly weighty, more so than her flesh and blood arm, but that was something she knew going into this. Damon had engraved the arm with intricate filigree she had designed while she was recovering from the surgery, making it truly a work of art in addition to a functional limb. Now, to make it function...

"Remember shaping with your right arm?" Damon asked. "Do that again, but run through the prosthetic with that maiga, make it seep into the stonework to gain control of the servos. From there, it should be just like using your original arm. Just requires that slight relearning of how it moves first."

Erica nodded, pushing maiga into every nook and cranny of the stonework of the arm. She felt the carved pathways for maiga, to make it turn the stone and give the limb life. She first tried wiggling a finger. It nearly spooked her when it moved. Then she tried wiggling all her fingers, then bending her elbow and wrist, and finally rotating the shoulder. She experimented with the arm, revealing it had the full range of movement her old arm had. Sliding off the workbench, she threw a couple of punches with the prosthetic, pummeling an imaginary opponent with the metal fist. She held her open palm in front of her, marveling at the segmented metal and the flexibility it had.

"Haha!" She gave a quick laugh, and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"Is something wrong?" Damon asked. "You're crying."

"That's a happy tear," Erica said, wiping it away with her left hand, "You don't know what you have until you lose it. I've missed having my dominant hand, it'll be nice to use it again."

"Be careful how much force you put into your grip, that hand is capable of crushing fairly easily. Otherwise, it should be just like it was before."

"Thank you," Erica said with full sincerity, "You've done so much for me, I have no idea where to start repaying you..."

"You don't owe me anything," Damon said, putting away a hammer, "You're still in training for the Army. Once you're ready, you can 'repay' me by serving to the best of your ability."

Erica darted forwards and wrapped a surprised Damon in her arms. He held his arms up and away, unsure of what to do now.

"What... are you doing?" He asked carefully.

"Giving you a hug. Dumbass."

"... Do hugs usually include insults?"

Erica sighed disappointedly and released him. "No, but I have to let you know that not knowing what a hug is is really weird."

"I've seen them before, but never really thought more about them. Usually in the wake of a larger Diezen raid, I've seen people hug after finding one another afterward."

"Family and friends are usually who you give hugs to," Erica explained, "You're not family, but I do consider you my friend now."

"Friend, huh? ... Joshua never called me that..."

"From what I've heard of him, he's more aloof. I wouldn't expect him to get all sappy or overly chatty."

"Oh, he talks. Are you kidding? I can't get him to shut up."

"Hmm. Anyway, if we're done here, I'm gonna go to the common room for a bit."

"Hold up," Damon said, stopping Erica, "I have a couple other things for you. If you'll follow me to the conference room..."

Erica did so, following the Altean general to a room she had passed several times but never taken a look into. Entering the room, she found an oval steel table dominating the center of the room. There were six metal chairs situated around it, with the one at the end furthest from her being much larger than the others, too large to fit her comfortably. The table had a map of the world engraved in the center of it, with Crehss' Cross and Dy'As Ridge in the center, the four cardinal continents branching off from there, with the fifth, round continent, Bellhold, split in half on either edge of the map, with the other continents pointed at it. Some of the map was obstructed by a pair of objects laid out across the table; a familiar looking brown longcoat, and a sheathed saber.

"These are for you," Damon said as she fully entered the room, gesturing to the coat and the saber.

Erica walked up to the table, examining the items. The coat looked to be a near exact copy of the one Damon wore everywhere, a brown, high-collared longcoat. It looked fairly heavy, and it was even more so than it looked when she went to pick it up and put it on. She left it open, rolling her shoulders and seeing how it fit. It was comfortable, if a tad heavy.

"That coat has altanite-weave armour woven into most of it. It's more resistant to cuts than it looks, but don't expect it to block attacks entirely for you. It will lessen blows, but not mitigate." Damon gave a run-down of the coat.

Erica nodded, taking the saber and scabbard in hand. It too was heavier than she would have expected, given that it was very similar in size to her service sword with the Copperwood guard. It had  a relatively plain hand guard, excepting the filigree patterns etched into it, the same kind that now ran up her mechanical arm. The grip was made from hard wood that was contoured to her new hand, letting her have a firm grasp on it. Pulling the saber out of the sheath a little, she saw it had a damascus steel pattern and a deep blue tint to the blade.

"A mid-concentration altanite-alloy sword, sturdy enough to go chopping Diezen mechans. It is heavy, but with your new arm, using it should be easy. Also durable enough to act as a bludgeon when swung backwards, should the situation call for it."

"You made these for me too?"

"I had them made for you, yes. Design work was mine, but all the labour was done by mechans. The coat was simply some alterations to the dimensions of my coats. The sword I had to draw up from scratch, taking the fact you were familiar with a particular type of blade into account. You should practice with it to make sure you remember how to use it after the loss of your arm."

Erica looked at her hand again, balling up her mechanical fist and relaxing it. "I've had that sword for six years or so... I took it upon myself to become more skilled with it than basic training would allow. Got some crap for that, but it helped with some of the more aggressive guhr raids, and the most brazen of bandit attacks. The carbine was still my primary weapon, but the sword was reliable when the gun ran dry, or when things got too close."

Damon was giving her a look of slight disdain. "I have to assume not everything or everyone who crossed swords with you survived."

Erica looked him in the eye. "No. I have had to kill before to protect my home, that's true. But, I know that's not how the Army operates. That's why you mentioned the blunt edge of the sword, right? So that if it came to it, I could still fight a living target without having to cut them?"

"Correct. You still need to exercise caution with it, but you're far less likely to fatally injure someone with the flat or back of the blade. Besides, while your favoured form is rather destructive, it is possible to subdue targets with some creative applications of shaping. Stone or wood bindings come to mind."

Erica nodded. She affixed the saber and scabbard to her left hip. Its weight made itself known, not quite balancing out the heft of her arm. 

"I would have had a third item made for you, but you already have one." Damon said.

"Huh?"

"You've had an Altean matrix maigum in your pocket since before I've met you," he said, pointing at the spot the crystal was hidden, "I don't know how it made it into your possession, but seeing as you have it, you may as well own the fact you do. While it was originally Joshua's, he has since gotten a new one, so returning this one is unnecessary. That necklace is a badge of office, as well as a method of communication."

With the jig thoroughly up, Erica sheepishly pulled the matrix from her pocket. She transferred it to the palm of her mechanical hand, and it glowed slightly brighter.

"They are able to transmit spoken messages, as well as play them aloud when fed maiga. The glow is a side effect of the maiga running through the myriad pathways within the crystal."

"So I can talk to you with this over a distance?" Erica asked. She unclasped the chain of the necklace, fumbling with the latch with her right hand a bit before clasping it around her neck, letting the crystal sit beneath the collarbone.

"Not just me, anyone with that kind of matrix maigum can send and receive messages from you. This mostly includes mechans. I can teach you the frequencies needed to more accurately address messages later."

"Just what is a matrix maigum, anyways? I know it's a major component of the simpler mechans we had around the village."

"In short, they are the brains of a mechan." Damon held up his own matrix. "What you and I have are small compared to the matrices of mechans, even simple mono-task ones. Typically, a matrix is a white crystal, grown by a shaper to direct the formation of the neural pathways that make the mechan it will be installed into think the way it does."

"So why are Altean ones blue, and so coveted?"

"Because ours are made from a crystal grown from altanite ore that I have to shape myself. While most of the process to make Altean mechans can be automated or be done by other mechans, the creation of an Altean matrix maigum is a task I alone can do." There was a knocking at the door of the conference room. Damon answered, "Enter."

A beige mechan opened the door and addressed Damon, "Sir, there's been a loss of contact with the bases closest to pointward Bladefell for twenty-four hours now."

"Why am I only hearing of this now?" Damon barked, suddenly at attention.

"The bases have been silent for the length of time we established to be alarming, I am bringing you the news as close to twenty-four hours from the last communique we've received as possible."

Damon nodded, grumbling, then turned to Erica with a grim expression. "I'm afraid the time for training has finished. It is now time for your first foray into the field."