The next day- and the rest of the week- conformed to a similar scheme: wake up a reasonable time, head down to a practice field for whatever introductory training the day had in store, spend some extra time exercising or practicing magic until I was too exhausted to get myself into more trouble, sloth around until it was time to sleep, during which I’d pick through the massive amount of data on the dominated server, then repeat.

Having a regular schedule did help keep me more in line and overall calm. It might have also helped that no one tried to kill or seriously hurt me.

As far as I have gotten with sorting through the research server, there was nothing all that interesting so far. No secret doomsday devices, no nefarious plots to steal MG powers, no super soldier programs, and surprisingly little embezzlement. I made a few copies of the information relevant to that last one so I could… encourage interest in my demon identification system should I actually get around to working on it and find natural sources lacking. 

I already had ideas of how it could be built- most of which revolved around partitioning a section of my mind onto a dedicated server with conventional programs to manage identification requests and networking. Ideally I’d have a working prototype ready before I presented the idea to the relevant authorities- for which I’d need hardware to run on and an existing database to pull from.

The hardware issue was partially solved by my request for stuff to build a server being fulfilled.

Like with my initial round of canisters, I received a message that my materials had come in, however, this time when I arrived at the office, the secretary took me to an adjoining storage room. There were a lot of other boxes containing a mess of specialty weapons and other equipment, but the ones intended for me were obvious. If you could see the contents of every package and knew what you were looking for. 

I was a little annoyed that my unrealistic hope everything would already be set up was unfounded, but thanked the bored-looking secretary and told them I’d deal with transporting everything. As soon as they left the room, I closed the door and opened an entryway to my extra dimensional warehouse. Despite technically being superhuman- minus the human part- I was exhausted by the time I had dragged every box inside and stacked them by the enigmatic painting.

The emptiness of the space reminded me of my plans for it. A quick reference of a map of the island’s city confirmed that while there wasn’t a large home improvement store, there was a small outlet for a chain. My plans were by no means complete, but I wanted a shed or something to partition a living space that I could make a little less industrial. I also needed to source machines to build out a small manufacturing center, and a lot of shelves to help keep the inevitable trickle of dubiously acquired objects organized.

My musings reminded me of the bike that was the perfect example of stuff I might come into possession of. A moderate jog let me perceive that it was where I left it, plus a layer of dust and dirt from living in an apartment garage for a while.

I hadn’t ever really gotten a chance to ride it, so after a quick rinse courtesy of the hose that was probably used to clean the garage and an exhausting drying using careful control of my magic, I was ready to take it out for errands. I didn’t have a helmet or any other safety gear, but my costume was probably better than any other gear I could use. Even so, I drove carefully and at least started slow. 

With improved reaction times and more direct control over the bike’s systems, it would have been a shame to stay around the fifteen miles per hour dictated by the signs. That’s not to say I was pushing it too hard- there just wasn’t the kind of space needed to get any faster than forty on the parts of the island that SEYA and the city covered.

Add to that the heavy foot traffic from nothing being outside of acceptable walking distance and I was stuck mostly going much slower than I would have wanted.

My fun on the bike had me rediscovering the wrong-frame-of-reference issue I had with my danger highlighting program. This time, I made sure to tinker around with it and throw together a patch for that. My fix wasn’t perfect, so for the rest of the ride, occasional red, amorphous wireframes would briefly flash into existence on the edges of my perception- mostly in the sewer system and storm drains.

When I arrived at the shop, I quickly realized I didn’t have any cards for bank accounts my parents couldn’t look at. It would be a dead giveaway that I was up to something if a payment suddenly went to a random business on the west coast archipelago. Annoyingly, the only bank was across town, so I just decided to ask about my request before figuring out a payment method.

The single currently working employee in the small shop front was a bit surprised when I asked about ordering a shed. They weren’t sure if it was possible or not, but after a quick call to someone were able to assure me not only that it was possible, but that transportation fees would be covered. As they mentioned that, they adopted the ‘I need to treat you like someone important’ voice I disliked. I decided to just suffer through it as I asked about basic furnishings and was repeatedly assured it would be a pleasure to fulfill my wishes.

It got to the point I was starting to think I had left [Unremarkable] off, but eventually I realized very few people would have a reason to come here, even fewer to order the kind of stuff I was, and even fewer yet on a very expensive street bike.

When I was done looking through a catalog for everything I wanted for what would be my mobile house, I had to cut the employee off before they just sent the bill to SEYA- instead telling them I would back with cash once I had withdrawn from the bank. It might have been a little paranoid of me, but given the size of what I was ordering, only an MG with a large storage perk would be interested, and I didn’t want anyone thinking my perk report could be wrong. That would lead to an awkward conversation.

The trip across town was uneventful and relaxing, with the exception of the stubborn danger flickers I just couldn’t seem to fix.

The bank was a partner of one of the ones I had stuck money in over the past few years, and flashing my MG identification helped iron over the probable questions the teller might have had about the sudden need for them to write a sizable check on my behalf. With everything sorted out, I was told that my order should be arriving on the next supply delivery in a few days.

WIth that done, I decided to just enjoy the feeling of the wind and movement while pointlessly riding around the town- at fully legal speeds this time. I also actually took the time to try and actually learn what amenities were around. The food in the cafeteria was pretty good for the amount of people being fed, but I was starting to want a change and wanted to finally use the kitchenette in my apartment to make something fancier than cereal.

Despite my best efforts, I was still pestered by the flashes- although when one popped up in around the same place a few times and while I was stopped for a light, I started to think that the ‘bug’ might not be my fault. My next assumption was that there were ULE-powered water purifiers or cleaners put in the sewer as a replacement for a normal, centralized treatment plant.

The problem with this theory was that the wireframes only briefly appeared, and only when I was more than about 200 feet from where they should be. And, more concerningly, there didn’t appear to be anything where the wireframes appeared.

Trying to logic my way out of immediately thinking of a worst case scenario, I stopped by a park and sat down. I was going to stay until I was confident I knew what was going on- whether that be finding the bug in my code creating issues, getting a good look at the supposed object, or something else equally definitive.

I was able to eliminate the possibility of it being an issue with my code fairly quickly. I wasn’t the best at that sort of thing, but a careful dissection with the help of some online tools and guides made me confident it couldn’t have a programming error.

While I was doing that, a part of my mind was dedicated to tracking and trying to identify whatever was triggering my warnings. Even after an hour of sitting on edge with a metaphorical finger poised over an equal metaphorical button, I was never able to make anything out with my ULE perception. The only good news was that I was able to mark the locations where the wireframes appeared, and that I confirmed whatever it was was moving very, very slowly.

If this hadn’t been making me crazy for a few hours, I wouldn’t have had the resolve to go and get my real eyes on the infuriating phenomenon on the miniscule chance it was something completely and specifically invisible to my frankly absurd alternate perception.