Hotswapping

I couldn’t do things the normal way, right now. No, I’d already been exhausted when I let Medea go earlier, and Khepri wouldn’t have made things any better. If I tried to release her and perform another Install, I’d probably collapse immediately, and that would defeat the point. I was going to have to pull out my most dangerous trick.

Hotswapping.

Set.

I reached for Medea again and took hold of her power.

Install.

“Nnnnngg!”

The shriek came through my clenched teeth as a high-pitched groan. Every nerve in my body was suddenly alight with fire, burning, aching, searing, like being stabbed by thousands of needles from all over. My hands spasmed as Khepri was forced out and Medea shoved in, and the normally easy and effortless transformation let out ominous cracksas my bones and body reshaped themselves.

I’ve had worse, I used to comfort myself. This had nothing on Bakuda’s pain bomb. Nothing!

It was a cold, paltry comfort. Telling myself I’d been through worse did not suddenly make this all better, did not turn the shoots of pain lancing up and down my legs, across my chest, through my stomach, into a pleasant tingle. It was still a self-inflicted torture that threatened to bring me to my knees.

It was just made it one I knew I could handle.

An eternity of agony passed. The scant few seconds it actually took stretched out into forever, and by the time it was over, every part of me throbbed with vestigial pain.

There was a reason I hadn’t done this since the first time I’d tried it.

I’ve had worse, I asserted again as I used Medea’s staff to keep myself standing.

“Ha…ha…ha…”

I forced myself to focus past the pain and stood straight. My legs threatened to give out under me, but sheer willpower let me stay upright.