I have been sitting in this room for roughly a day.
Sometimes I fade out, distracted by the reassuring buzzing in my skull. I have walked the path of the butterflies, stood in the presence of this man, without his shirt and with his robe, while he tells me of the tools of warfare. Blood and blade, fist and hammer, the tools of war in their purest senses, the craft of violence which, let’s face it… is what I am here to do.
But I don’t know what two to pick.
I reach for my phone, to look up guides again, huffing to myself… after all, I want these powers to have some synergy but I also want the style of them to work well together and ugh ugh ugh oh god it’s four in the morning again and I still haven’t decided.
I guess what I need is a backup plan. A plan bee, if you will.