《C0G - A Fantasy Progression LitRPG》 Chapter 1 ~ The Arrivening Zach woke up with nothing but a loincloth, a migraine and an identity crisis. From the instant he returned to conscious thought, his eyes were laden with sunspots and fluctuating bright lights all around him. He''d just gone to bed for work the following day, and it felt as though he''d woken up way too early. There was a distinct lack of restfulness, relaxation and a sun in the sky; his entire body was tense, as if he were trying to tear every muscle in it at the same time. His mind scrambled for a grip on anything nearby, quickly falling into panic upon not being able to see properly. Thoughts melded with instincts that weren¡¯t his own but now were, and the scraps of what could be considered primitive thought clawed about in his head. He tried to take stock of himself, only to discover something just as confusing as it was concerning. He both was and wasn¡¯t himself at the same time. He started to breathe heavily, and unfortunately, one thing that didn¡¯t help his panic was another observation; his voice, seeping out through the panting, sounded more gravelly - less like a 20-something adult man and more like a hyperventilating pug. He tried to move, but couldn¡¯t do much more than roll around due to his body not releasing its grip on¡­ itself? It made no sense, and yet there he was. He did his best to focus, to calm himself, to reason out the situation. However, the more he tried to think, the more he began to panic. The more he panicked, the worse the wrongness became. He tried to beat his chest like choking down a clump of food, tried rubbing his face, even tried to simply sit up. Everything he attempted was greeted with a wave of lightheadedness bordering on vertigo and, suddenly, his mind settled on something it recognized. Primal fear. Primal fear in two warring halves. In an instant, his mind flipped from frenzied to defiant and clamped down on the half of himself recoiling in fear; it was locked, sealed and crushed within itself, a prison of denial and confusion. He felt his head physically throb with the effort his brain went to in an attempt to rectify the situation, and everything practically tripled in effect. This, in turn, caused his brain to steel itself further. He had sudden and vivid flashbacks to when he was a kid, panicking over everything he did wrong, and a small sense of absolute identity replanted itself in his mind. his brain snagged onto this with a death grip, and like the crescendo of an orchestral piece, everything reached a crux of confusion. It was the single most excruciating experience he''d been through since he was a kid; the thought of those times entered his mind, and all at once, he was thrown back into himself. The colors, the lights, the tenseness; everything just¡­ faded. He felt like puking, and he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear out the last of the sunspots. This time, when he took inventory, he wasn¡¯t interrupted. The first thing he noticed was the odd shape of his fingers; at first, he was afraid they had snapped and bone was protruding from all of his fingertips. It was then that he''d realized a recognition within them; they were simply shaped like that, and a dueling sense of passive acknowledgement and active panic carved its way into his mind. He yelped audibly, once more his voice sounding as though someone was giving a chain-smoking Gilbert Gottfried testicular torsion. Upon further inspection under the pale moonlight, he realized that the final segment of his fingers were shaped like angled pickaxe heads - not an exact reflection, but close enough to be eerie. This brought him to the realization that his skin itself was far paler than normal, and his arms and legs were at vastly different proportions and weights than they should have been. He''d always had long arms, but they shouldn¡¯t have nearly touched his ankles while resting beside him in a sitting position, though that could have been due to his legs being shorter than normal too. Granted, it wasn¡¯t anywhere near as extreme as the ratios of change in his arms, but it was still noticeable. He could still feel his long hair against his back, which made him worried that he''d been horribly mutated somehow - his already unattractive self didn¡¯t need help being grotesque. In a mild panic, he looked down. ¡°Shit.¡± he tried to mutter, though it came out more like a prolonged, ¡°Zot.¡± He still had his damned potbelly. He didn¡¯t need that thing, and he would¡¯ve been ecstatic to have it vaporized. Unfortunately, there it was; a spherical gut on an emaciated torso that he realized wasn¡¯t his own. Ribs were visible, but to be emaciated, his skeletal structure would have had to be the same. He could tell he had no broken bones - bruised from the tenseness of his oddly potent muscles, maybe, but certainly not even fractured or cracked, let alone broken. His chest should have still been like a barrel if he were simply disfigured somehow. He slowly began to calm down as more and more details arose, breathing in the practiced 4-7-8 technique that he learned to help with his anxiety. Four seconds breathing in through the nose, hold it for seven seconds, release through the mouth for eight seconds. Rinse and repeat. After a few repetitions of this, he was calm enough to consider what situation he could be in. He considered this might be a dream, but his eyesight narrowed in on his horrifying hand and he realized he couldn¡¯t get this level of detail or conscious thought if he were asleep. He imagined the same would apply if he''d gone into a coma, so one of those was out of the question as well. Without realizing it, he''d sunk into research mode. He, as a person, generally enjoy doing research. The stuff he enjoyed most was supernatural in nature; it wasn''t that he believed any of it was real, but it was something that had always scratched an itch in the back of his mind. If it were a viable option, he might have become a cryptozoologist in another life, but he never went to college and was five years deep into the manual labor workforce. He tried going over anything and everything he recalled from his embarrassingly extensive knowledge on mythos and cryptids, trying to identify what the thing he was seeing through the eyes of could be. Nothing came to mind, except maybe a Yokai - those things could look like damn near anything. He tried again to wrack his brain for information, but no more came. He carefully inspected the body he was in, quickly realizing he had precise control over all movements and wouldn¡¯t shift about if he sat perfectly still and loosened all of his muscles, as was expected. So he was in control of the body, then. His body? Their body, as in the thing he had become? He wasn''t quite sure what had happened to him, but he did know he''d need to move around, see what he could do in the body, and perhaps even try to inspect it for any hidden quirks he could take advantage of. He blinked, halting the thought processes cold. I¡¯m not me, he thought to himself. The implications brought him immense excitement, emotional pain and anxiety; was his old body destroyed? Would he still be himself, or would he wind up becoming whatever this creature was over time? Why did this happen to him? Was this a new life with his memories carried over, and if so, is this where people went when they died? Do they become whatever the hell he was now? Was he dead? Did he die in his sleep? Why wasn¡¯t it pitch black- He froze in place after hearing a branch in the distance snap. He whipped around, only then taking in his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a pine forest, at first glance. He corrected himself - those were fir trees. Despite the moonlight tinting them all with a paler than normal color, he could still tell something was very wrong. The trunks, they were too light - the bark practically reflected violet moonlight like snow in the summer, and the small needles were some sort of deep, dark scarlet. As he got closer to a tree, he noticed some holes within it, and he nearly gagged. The tree¡¯s trunk was filled with dozens of openings, all varying from a millimeter to a full half-foot in diameter, that made it look like a bisected lung¡¯s interior. The holes didn¡¯t move or pulse, at least. That would have, quite honestly, made him piss himself. He took a deep breath and walked up to the tree before quickly and abruptly realizing an undeniable truth about his new form, whatever it was. It was becoming increasingly obvious. He was small. This, however, was not the end of the world for him. It took him a second, but he readjusted to his new legs rather quickly. He used to be an extremely short guy when in middle school - clocking in at four foot eleven and 235 pounds - and he knew how to maneuver around like that. He kept himself from making a full physical inspection, realizing that it would quickly cause him to spiral into a state of panic. Again. ¡°This all feels wrong¡­¡± He muttered aloud, the words forcing themselves out slowly and incoherently - like shoving his thoughts through a wood chipper. He flinched, still sounding like a chainsaw having an orgasm, before noticing a small white box pop up in the corner of his vision. He blinked, trying to focus on it. The moment he acknowledged its presence, it expanded to fill up his entire vision. [ANTILINGUAL - 10:15:49] He blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the bizarre sight. ¡°I know I have an active imagination, but damn,¡± he muttered, the words once more coming out unintelligibly. He wound up making a long series of sounds akin to a murloc speaking German. He hated the new voice he¡¯d been given. Immediately after he finished gurgling out nonsensical sounds, something changed on the screen in front of him. [ANTILINGUAL - 10:19:59 REFRESHED DUE TO SPEAKING] He cursed under his breath, but before he could stop himself, the ¡®Antilingual¡¯ timer reset itself again. He almost yelled in frustration, but decided against it in case that counted as an attempt to talk. He shook his head, sighing. Then, the full implications of the screen clicked in his brain, alongside the timer and the new body. Ain¡¯t no way, he thought. Ain¡¯t no fucking way! He immediately focused on the window before him closing, and in an instant, the screen disappeared. He giggled, which was not dissimilar to someone drowning Tommy Wiseau with liquid helium, before mentally reopening the same window. It took a few seconds, but it popped up once more; he had to focus on the message he wanted to see, but after he got down the proper mindset, it took half a second for the proper window to open, if that. He cackled again before constantly opening and closing the window as fast as he could for roughly three minutes, chuckling and guffawing. It took him a decent amount of time to catch his breath, then he looked around for a secure location to mess with this new system safely. He was starting to believe he had entered some portal fantasy situation to some degree, more or less. Whether this was a result of a dying mind, a coma - however unlikely - or if it was truly real, he didn¡¯t know. Quite frankly, he didn¡¯t care, either; he didn¡¯t have much on Earth to look forward to. If this was his life for the next decent amount of time, he''d greet it at the door with a hug and a kiss. That did leave the question of how everything worked, though. He sighed, glancing around once again to find a small hollow to inspect his system within. His eyes eventually rested on a small cave nearby with nothing of immediate note going on, save for the slight smell of mold and cold earth. As he slid towards the entrance, something changed. He blinked. He could see inside. In a pitch-black environment, on a night close to a new moon, he could see. Granted, it was in a full spectrum of shades of green, but he could see! He giggled again, covering his mouth in case anything was within the nearby cavern. He must have had some sort of night vision, which was extremely interesting to experience. Like someone flicking a switch, or maybe someone turning on a low light camera in a dark room. He reached up to scratch the top of his head, still uncoordinated hands bumping against his mouth. He paused, lowering them once more to where they¡¯d hit against. It was only then that he realized just how massive his jaw was. It had to be half the size of his head overall, if not more. The lower jaw of this bizarre body was extended out a bit further than any average person''s would be. The excitement immediately dimmed when he realized that this was most likely why he''d gotten that debuff. He nearly grunted aloud, but settled on a mental huff instead. He wanted the blasted thing gone so he could talk properly. He rubbed his temples, trying to remember anything possible about how he could have gotten here. He was in his room, drifting off into sleep after a long workday. He had been watching videos, too¡­ maybe something about his phone? He checked his pockets quickly, only to realize a harsh truth; loincloths don''t have pockets. He heaved another silent sigh, shaking his head as he looked around his immediate surroundings. He could see as far as he normally could when it was daytime, at least in his normal body while on Earth, which was incredible to him. Despite this, he couldn''t find his phone or any clothes nearby, which meant he probably wasn''t scooped up physically. The thoughts of death that lingered in his mind returned to its forefront, and he began to fight down more rising panic yet again. Had he actually died? It would have explained the lack of any of his things, the sudden change in scenery and all the bizarre feelings. The only thing it wouldn''t necessarily explain - at least not directly - would be the night vision. He shook his head. He could still utilize all five senses, and they seemed to function just fine. He could see the dark green - probably actually dark gray - clouds swirling in the sky, hear distant cracks of thunder, and smell the humidity in the air- "Zot." he muttered again. [ANTILINGUAL - 10:19:59 REFRESHED DUE TO SPEAKING] A large thunderbolt slammed into the ground not fifty meters away from him, which made him put his hands on his head in panic. The thunder from the strike was deafening and made his entire body bristle, ears ringing as though someone had lit fireworks directly next to them. The disorientation lasted only moments, but the panic was vast and primal. Once he was able to begin calming himself again and felt raindrops begin to patter against his face, he paused. He squished his long, peculiarly scratchy, oddly tough hair. It reminded him of a certain kind of sponge. A metal sponge. He slowly brought the end of his hair up to his face. It was unmistakably metal, all right. A type of copper, if he had to guess, which made it a conductive metal. A very conductive metal. In a thunderstorm. Outside. He launched himself towards the cave mouth, and would have made it, too. If it weren''t for that pesky lightning bolt. While he was midair, realizing he had not only leapt a solid thirty feet horizontally, at least ten feet vertically, a massive lightning strike blasted against his back. He bounced off of the ground hard, getting the wind knocked out of him before ricocheting right into the cave mouth. His entire body was clenched, muscles on the verge of ripping themselves apart and pulverizing his bones. It took a solid minute or two for the effects to fully fade, and it was only then that he caught another miniature window in the corner of his vision. [PARALYSIS IX - 00:00:00] Before he could interact with it, the window closed on its own and he could move freely. Despite this, he was very stiff, very sore and very anxious. If his hair was metal, did that mean it would rust? If it was actually copper, would it turn that mint green color? He could live with that, but it''d never go back to normal. Would it be a reversible process? Would his hair turn green instead of gray with age? Was it even hair to begin with, or was it a kind of fashion statement or symbolism - like those big hoops people shoved in their ears? Maybe something like acupuncture with wires? If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. He shook his head as the pain began to fade, and he noticed something else in his peripheral vision move. At first, he thought it might have been blood trickling down the bridge of his nose; upon closer inspection, however, he realized that it was a bar. It had a small, pixelated heart next to it, and the heart was a beet red color. The bar - clearly a health bar - was nearly empty and, wishing to avoid any other injuries that could cripple him further, he decided to huddle up against the cavern wall deeper inside. He was not about to die here, regardless of what situation he was actually in. He would just treat this like it was all real, even if it wasn''t; that sort of thing was usually fun for him, anyways. Plus, if it was somehow improbably real, he didn''t want to perma-die just yet. He''d barely broken through into his twenties, and he still had some stuff to work on. Alongside this thought process, his brain was nagging at his body - probing it to discover how he''d just leapt so high and so far in one fluid motion. The numbers ran through his head, boggling his mind and making his head spin. He grasped his chest, panting heavily. What sort of force could he output if he really tried? On top of all that, him surviving a lightning bolt was something he couldn¡¯t fathom. Sure, his health was almost gone, but the fact that he had even a little bit left felt like a miracle. He inspected his legs, hoping to find an answer within them for his miraculous physical prowess. After a minute or two of exploration, he discovered that the joints within them didn¡¯t bend normally. The ligaments were omni-directional, which made him want to gag - he bent his legs into configurations his brain said shouldn¡¯t be possible, but they all felt natural. That lasted about five seconds before he had to stop or risk spewing all over himself. He closed his eyes for a moment, regaining control over his gag reflex. When he opened them, he noticed motion in his peripheral vision once again. He refocused on what he assumed was his health bar; he watched the bar slowly tick up, one single segment turning red, and realized there were two more bars beneath it. One had what looked like a cartoon cloud next to it - fully empty and grayed out, but present - and a bar with a lightning bolt next to it. The bar and bolt were both green at the moment, only a sliver of it left unfilled. That, much like his health, jumped up a small portion at a time until it was topped off. He almost pondered aloud before catching himself, and he glared at the debuff that kept him from talking. He scratched at the back of his head, familiarizing himself with the texture of his new hair. It was most certainly hair, too; the feeling of tugging on it was identical to how it felt when pulling on his own hair in his normal life. That, mixed with the lightning a moment earlier, had him feeling more convinced by the second that this was all genuine. If that''s the case, he thought, then I need to familiarize myself with whatever this ''system'' is. I''ve played enough games before. I can do this easily. ¡­Mostly easily. Before sunrise, maybe? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had been seven hours and sixteen minutes of blessedly uninterrupted trial and error before he realized how to properly use the system. It seemed to function on something like old text-based rpgs, where you had to use specific words to open specific things, or to do specific actions. Fortunately for him, the commands were all mental, so he didn''t have to refresh the Antilingual debuff every time he tried to utilize the OS. Status was the first thing that worked for him, seven hours in. He tried all sorts of sentences, but it would apparently only accept the solitary word ''Status''. He scoffed at such a ridiculous setup, but if that was how it wanted to play, then he''d play. He made it a habit of learning all of the rules of any game he came across before utterly annihilating it using intricacies within said rules. It''s how he got so bored of so many games; they became too easy once you found the loopholes that basically let you cheat without cheating. When the Status screen popped up, he yelped. His eyes immediately flashed to the Antilingual debuff. [ANTILINGUAL: 2:49:12] He heaved a relieved sigh in his mind before looking over the information laid out in front of his eyes. It had spooked him so fiercely due to it taking up most of his field of vision, and unfortunately, there was plenty of stuff; more than enough to justify that much of a visual hindrance. [NAME: N/A* >RACE: UNKNOWN* >CHROMA: N/A* >VYR: N/A >SIMULACRA: N/A >STATS* >ABILITIES >MUTATIONS* >TRANSFORMATIONS >INVENTORY >EQUIPMENT >SETTINGS] That was a lot of information to go through, and his mind reeled with the implications of it all. He shook his head, gathering his thoughts and reassuring himself that he had all the time in the world to get to know this system. Deep down, he knew it was a bold-faced lie, but he pushed those considerations aside just enough that they couldn''t resurface anytime soon. He shrugged, mentally selecting the Name option. [NAME: YOU HAVE NOT GIVEN YOURSELF A NAME. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?] He thought for a moment. He did have a name, but it never did feel quite right when someone used it to refer to him. He thought about it, feeling the gears in his head beginning to turn. The moment he had the thought of gears, he knew what he''d want his new gremlin-esque self to be called. He mentally entered in his new name. Goodbye, Zachary- [HELLO, {Cog}. WELCOME TO ?THOUN!] He nearly laughed out loud as the system seemingly read his thoughts, though his apprehension at the situation seeped from his voice. He closed the pop-up, confirming his new name, and took a look at the rest of the menu. He shrugged, going down the list. [RACE: UNKNOWN YOU HAVE BEEN PLACED INTO A HOST BODY, SEEING AS YOUR OWN BODY COULD NOT BE TRANSFERRED INTO AETHOUN. ON YOUR ORIGINAL WORLD, YOU WERE {Human}. HERE, YOU ARE {Pech}. CONFLICT: UNRESOLVED. RACE: UNDECIDED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO REMAIN AS A {Pech}, OR RETURN TO BEING A {Human}? >{Pech} >{Human}] It¡­ knew he used to be human? And what did it mean by a host body? What even was a host body - was it not really his own? He rubbed at his temples, another migraine taking hold. I never liked being human, and if this isn''t my body, then I have no real right to change it, now do I? He thought to himself. In a vain attempt to reduce the building mental agony, he selected pech, hoping he wouldn''t come to regret it later. After a few moments, nothing more happened. He shrugged, closing the window, and the asterisk was gone. ''Unknown'' was replaced with ''Pech'', and he smiled. He remembered the Scottish mythos for those little goblinoids, but not much beyond the story of an elder on his deathbed. Cog didn¡¯t remember exactly how it went, but the elder¡¯s sons gathered around him to stay by his side as he passed. He asked for one of his sons¡¯ hands, and they instead gave him a metal cup as a joke. The old pech crushed it like a tin can in his bare hand. He couldn''t recall any more details on the story. Zachary - Cog now, he reminded himself - looked over the rest of the menu options with asterisks next to them: Chroma, Stats and Mutations. He had no clue what Chroma was, but he assumed it had something to do with customization. That would come last; before that, he selected mutations because he wanted to apply stats once other possible modifications to them had been made. He suspected that a mutation or two could make him backtrack a bit. [MUTATIONS: 1/5 BEFORE RACIAL EVOLUTION > SOUL-DENSE] Again, he was taken aback. He expanded the Soul-Dense information. [^SOUL-DENSE Your body has developed its soul to a point well beyond its normal capabilities. It has gained excessive amounts of both Vyranthe and potential. This could be due to a variety of reasons, but remember: never look a gift horse in the mouth.] He grunted, concern settling in his mind. He had no clue what Vyranthe was, though he suspected it had something to do with Vyr. Was it a religious kind of magic or something, relating to souls and stuff? He could understand the potential part, at least, but the last line had him concerned. Was it just because his soul was in a bigger body back on Earth, and now this smaller one had to somehow fit fifty pounds of soul into a five pound meat sack? Once more, he shook his head to clear it. He needed to find someone to communicate with, and he couldn''t do that for another three hours, give or take a few minutes. He opened up Stats next. [^STATS >MIND: N >BODY: N >SOUL: N* >AURA: N >UNSPENT POINTS: 0 >ABILITY ANALYSIS AVAILABLE] He immediately expanded Soul, in the hopes of finding some answers. [^SOUL General Information: SOUL is the measure of your metaphysical might. It determines your base stats upon birth, the efficiency and power of your Vyr, how quickly your abilities undergo Ability Evolution, and most of the basis for your Transformations. Advancing your SOUL score will not inflict pain, but will make you less comfortable in your own skin for a few minutes.] He nodded along as he read, admiring the stat. The thought of improving your soul''s effectiveness through any sort of training made him wonder what it would feel like to be in the presence of someone with an impressively high Soul score. He shrugged, closing the description and checking the Ability Analysis Available tab. [^ABILITY ANALYSIS AVAILABLE Your abilities will have undergone immense changes throughout recent events, and this should help to realign you with your new physical alterations by bringing your life experiences into your current body. Begin ANALYSIS? >Y/N] He cocked his head to the side slightly. This was the exact kind of thing he''d always had a massive interest in - being able to summarize things about himself into easy to understand tidbits. Bonus points if someone else did it, so it would be free of personal biases. The idea of having whatever sort of machine ran this system convert his life¡¯s experiences into stats for him was something he could barely contain his curiosity over. He held off, however; he still had two more tabs to look through. He figured he''d look at the Chroma tab next, but when he tried to open it mentally, a small pop-up appeared. [ATTENTION: YOU MUST DECIDE ON AN ABILITY ANALYSIS BEFORE SELECTING A CLASS. YOUR STATS WILL DETERMINE YOUR OPTIONS, AND HAVING THEM CHANGE DURING OR AFTER SELECTION TO A LARGE DEGREE IS ILL ADVISED.] That meant it had to be something beyond just customization - something with substance behind it in this world. He shrugged, mentally rerouted to the Ability Analysis tab and selected ¡®yes¡¯. Immediately, he felt himself become light-headed to a degree he knew he couldn¡¯t pry himself out of. His eyelids immediately began to droop, and he wanted to sleep for a good, long while. Instead, he focused on the bright white screen in front of him, generating a solid block of text. Reading it was difficult at first, but when he really tried to focus on it, the words seemed to flow lazily into his mind with perfect clarity. [MIND: 13 Throughout your life, you¡¯ve thoroughly enjoyed puzzles and research. You stretched your mind well beyond its normal limits, utilizing its unique form and function to the best of your ability. While your mind is hindered in some crucial aspects and far too comprehensive in others (that perhaps aren¡¯t as important), it is absolutely capable of converging on any issue and finding any solution that presents itself, assuming one exists. Average ?thounian MIND Score: 12 BODY: 16 Your body is one that was built out of one half titanium rebar, one half roman concrete. Genetics has been your friend, as has been the six years of manual labor jobs; it has caused your body to be able to achieve things no one thought possible for such a bookworm. This, paired alongside your unique mental situation and discoveries about your nearly anomalous body, has led you to learn not only how to make best use of your physical traits, but also how to use them in ways they aren¡¯t normally used. Between oddly impeccable balance, precise movements and proper rhythm, your body couldn¡¯t have started out better. What¡¯s more, you managed to make it hold onto its strength for longer by constantly putting forth incredible effort before sitting for months on end. This is a trick that has properly prepared you for this realm. Average ?thounian BODY Score: 15 SOUL: 13 Your childhood was not even close to living up to its title; you were never really a kid, at least not that you can remember. Early trauma, mid-teen trauma, later trauma; you withstood abuse unlike anything you¡¯d experienced before, and you used it to grow instead of as another reason to give up. Despite wanting to, you forged onwards in life, unwilling to yield to anyone or anything, and your SOUL has become truly mighty for that. Average ?thounian SOUL Score: 11 AURA: 10 Unfortunately, while your mind, body and soul were forged through hell and high water, your presence is not something many people feel; however, your absence leaves a small something to be desired. Not much, granted, but it is more than enough to harbor concern if one is an acquaintance of yours. Average ?thounian AURA Score: 10 CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR STARTING MIND SCORE IS HIGH ENOUGH TO TRANSLATE A NATURAL ABILITY OF YOURS, NOT YET LISTED WITHIN YOUR SYSTEM! ABILITY: {Selective Memory} CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR STARTING BODY SCORE IS HIGH ENOUGH TO TRANSLATE A NATURAL ABILITY OF YOURS, NOT YET LISTED WITHIN YOUR SYSTEM! ABILITY: {Muscle-Dense} YOU ALREADY HAVE {Hypertrophy}. YOU WILL INSTEAD GRANT {Hypertrophy} EXTRA EFFECTIVENESS. CONGRATULATIONS! YOUR STARTING SOUL SCORE IS HIGH ENOUGH TO TRANSLATE A NATURAL ABILITY OF YOURS, NOT YET LISTED WITHIN YOUR SYSTEM! ABILITY: {Survivor}] Wow. The Aura comment was... passive aggressive. Especially for a hunk of magic pixels, Cog thought. I wonder if it gives everyone this much backtalk. The first couple of paragraphs were eerie to say the least, but the moment the system brought up trauma, he froze in place. What had been settling panic was now erupting into a full-blown frenzy of cacophonous wrongness. A primal urge to flee overtook his mind, but it didn¡¯t quite feel like his own. He steeled himself, took a shaky breath and kept reading until the end. A part of him had known he''d come across something like that if the system could read his life experience, but it¡¯s one thing to know something. It¡¯s an entirely different situation when you actually experience it. He felt the repressed past bubble for a few moments before it once more settled itself deep within his subconscious, where he wanted it kept. If this was a new world, he doubted it had therapy. If it does, he thought sourly, then I''d be willing to bet health insurance won¡¯t cover it. This got him thinking, in a string of familiarly sporadic ponderings, of what the currency of the world was; as if on cue, a new window popped up in his vision. By now, he had realized he could move, resize and minimize or maximize any window at will; this one started out small, but after a quick check around him to ensure he was still alone, he expanded it into full screen. [CURRENCY > DROPS > TREASURES > CCS ] Well, that¡¯s new, he thought. He hadn¡¯t expected more than one tab, let alone the bizarre addition of ''Drops''; he would have thought that would tie in with Treasure, regardless what they were Drops of. Tentatively, he opened the tab for Drops first. [^DROPS RD: 0 OD: 0 YD: 0 GD: 0 UD: 0 PD: 0 UVD: 0] He had no idea what the different units meant, but he assumed that he could find info on them later. The bottom line was, he didn¡¯t have a single coin to his name. Sighing, he opened Treasures. [^TREASURES COMMON: 0 UNCOMMON: 0 RARE: 0 EPIC: 0 MYTHIC: 0 LEGENDARY: 0 DEIFIC: 0 UNIQUE: 0 ] That tab at least made sense to him. It probably meant anything he found that he could sell would rest there. Maybe magical weapons or the like? Maybe some relics? He shrugged, finally opening the CCs tab, fully expecting confusion. Instead, he got something relatively comprehensible. [^CHROMA CAPSULES AIR: - DARK: - EARTH: - FIRE: - LIGHT: - WATER: - ETHER: - ] Elements? He thought to himself. That must¡¯ve meant Chroma was related to magic, nature or the like somehow. He really wanted to look more into it, before realizing he had a Chroma tab that was going fully unexplored. He was about to open it, when he heard a noise to his right - something akin to a sniffle. He turned around slowly, eyes widening, vision aided by the rising sun barely halfway past the horizon. Before him was the ugliest-looking panther he''d ever seen; it had patchy fur, no eyes and a snout similar to a star-nosed mole¡¯s, except with a far taller all-around bone structure. Then, it opened its jaw. No, not jaw. Jaws. Six of them, one after another, opening and unhinging like a paper fan until the bottom of its final mouth was resting against its neck. It released a sound that seemed like the worst possible in-between of a typical panther growl and a rodent¡¯s screech, and its tail - tipped with a barb that looked like an underdeveloped scorpion stinger - flicked about in an irritated fashion. Its four legs ended with claws that fit together into an upside-down trowel shape, and it flexed its feet, spreading the sharp bone apart and, after relaxing them, brought them back together once more. What he thought was a meager mane turned out to be a frill, skin flaps resembling velvety bat wings rising from behind its head in what could only be described as a set of macabre mohawks; all of this was cast in a level of dramatic lighting from the sunrise. Cog tried to run. He really did. His body, however, decided that it was a far better idea to finally vomit instead. Chapter 2 ~ Fenaggling the Fialtog Despite loving stories based around portal fantasies, adventuring, magic and intense combat, Cog never learned how to fight. He dropped out of karate when he got one belt higher than white - he couldn¡¯t even recall what color it was - and only remembered how to throw a proper punch and basic kick. He hated getting into fights, too, because it always made him feel like hot garbage afterwards. That was one aspect he and his dad shared - they both hated conflict. Needless to say, when he wiped the chunks of nondescript, half-digested meat from his mouth and stared down a paw¡¯s worth of razor-sharp claws, he knew damn well he''d have to fight or die. Of course, not knowing how to fight and not wanting to die, he didn¡¯t have any good options and could only hope for the best. He smirked in the moment just before the impact at a realization that had snuck through the frenzy. Guess this gives a whole new meaning to spray and pray, he thought. Then, he was impaled through the right shoulder with a set of shovel-like claws. He screamed out in agony, mind jolting with a start. It felt¡­ weird. Unexpected. The closest thing he could describe the experience to would be hitting a computer and immediately getting a brief visual glitch before it returns to normal, except he was the screen at that moment. After the odd feeling, his body seemed to react on its own, left arm lashing out and swatting at the leg with the still-inserted unguis. With another bellow that he didn¡¯t actively call forth, the claws dragged and shredded his shoulder, but were removed from his body. The subconscious motion was accompanied by another flash of light outside. This brought about good news and bad news. Good news? He was able to move about freely and possibly escape with his life. Bad news? His right arm was not only dead, but in immense pain. If he didn¡¯t know better, he''d think the creature¡¯s nails were soaked in some kind of poison or irritant. Maybe something akin to rubbing alcohol or hand sanitizer instead? It burned like hell, and he couldn¡¯t bring himself to leap around like he had when entering the cave. Once it got past its initial shock at his actions, the panther-like beast lunged at him again, using the same leg to try and sever his arm fully. He leaned out of the way, nearly losing his balance but only getting lightly grazed across the cheek with the claws rather than losing an appendage so early. He realized he might be able to look into what it was through the system, uttering every synonym for ¡®scan¡¯ he knew of. He kept trying his best to dodge, but every attack it made got closer to landing lasting damage. Every so often, more flashes of blue light erupted from the dim sky. After about fifteen seconds, he mentally bellowed the word ¡®Info¡¯ while staring down the creature before him. A window popped up in his peripheral vision, and he opened it to a size that would let him easily read it without hindering his sightline of the creature before him. [CREATURE INFO: FIALTOG TYPE: MONSTROUS, FELINE, RODENT CHROMA: NONE VYR: NONE SIMULACRA: NONE STATS: MIND: N (Animal) BODY: O SOUL: N AURA: R DESCRIPTION: Fialtog are a variety of feline monstrosity that reside within cave systems and abandoned structures. They don¡¯t need many nutrients, as their bodies are capable of feeding off of localized Chroma, but considering they¡¯re only pseudo-magical, they must eat at least once a week. Their favored prey are animals that are relatively large with plenty of protein (I.E Larger rodents, birds, lizards and small humanoids). Their mouths have adapted from a single, massive maw used to swallow large chunks of meat at a time; while it was helpful to eat fast, it took far too long to digest their meals. Therefore, Chroma helped to develop their evolution to provide multiple smaller mouths; this allows them to now eat just as fast, but also allows them to fully chew their food first. WARNING: Should you get stung by their tail, seek medical attention IMMEDIATELY. This is a deadly neurotoxin that will erode the brain in under an hour for most Normal Threshold individuals.] He huffed. Of course these damned things ate small humanoids, and of course it was in this ¡®abandoned¡¯ cave. Allowing himself to get distracted, he was unable to dodge a massive slashing motion from the thing, and a fresh, gaping wound across his gut began to pour out blood. He glanced at his health bar in a panic. It hadn¡¯t even regenerated back to full over the seven hours - only about two thirds of the way there - and it was already down to a quarter and dropping rapidly. His mind reeled, trying to think of anything that could potentially help him; something was itching at the back of his mind, but he couldn¡¯t place it. The system hadn''t granted him anything he could think of that would aid him in the situation, and he hadn¡¯t checked on any inventory he had. Now was a horrible time to do so, anyways; he''d die before he got anything useful out of it. He narrowly avoided a lash from the beast¡¯s tail, causing a bubble of panic to rise, then pop in his gut. His health dropped to a fifth of the total bar, and he took a shaky, deep breath as he narrowly avoided another swipe. A rumble echoed from outside, and the itch in his mind began to intensify. If he tried to fight, he''d bleed out. If he tried to run, he''d be killed. If he tried to heal, even if he had anything that would allow such miraculous regeneration, he''d be killed. His head worked on a swivel as he was pushed closer and closer to the cave¡¯s entrance. He began to wonder how many things he''d miss in this world, if he''d wake up ever again once the darkness of death would claim him. His health had gone down to a sixth by then, and another near miss had knocked him onto the cavern floor. His wild anxiety reached a fever pitch with a brief flare of light from the cavern entrance. Then, all at once, he felt something within himself snap into place. The anxiety had mounted to its peak by then, quickly settling into a hard store of energy to do what he had to. Possibilities and actions flashed through his mind - various attacks he could attempt, methods of escape and even what he could do if he had any abilities. He couldn¡¯t see anything working for a half moment, narrowly dodging another gruesome slash, when something finally returned to his mind in full force. He felt a deep, roiling rage accompany his defiance of death and of this enemy, and his actions were hesitant no longer. There was no telling if he''d live through it or not, but it was better than dying without trying. Besides, this body lived it once already. Why not twice? This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. He held his breath as the monstrosity crept closer to him, eyeless face inches away from his own. Come on, he thought. Just give me one more- A flash of light acted as his own personal starter¡¯s pistol, a handful more following it as he burst into motion. He kicked his legs as hard as he could into the chest of the creature, clamping down on its narrow face with his own enormous jaw. While it had six maws, it seemed none of them were especially strong in terms of opening force, because it struggled helplessly against him. More than once, when it whipped its head at a weird angle, he felt a deep cracking and a give that hadn¡¯t been there before; then, he bit down harder. They tumbled out of the cavern in a heap, and Cog shoved his left arm hard into the stone floor for momentum as he swung himself atop the feline, pushing it roughly against the ground outside. He was impressed with the speed that he was able to do so, and was grateful that the lightning was plentiful that dawn. Just as he had hoped, his copper hair attracted another lightning bolt, which arced sharply and hurtled towards him in an instant. He planted his feet and reasserted his grip on the now winded feline behemoth as it approached, then let the lightning course through himself. The familiar, violent force of the impact rattled his teeth and caused his already tense muscles to clench even further; it felt like his gums were injected with electrified Novocain. His teeth felt like he''d chewed tin foil for an hour, and he smelled smoke. He saw a familiar debuff - Paralysis IX - pop into view for mere moments before a new one replaced it. He felt the entire charge from the strike flow out of him and into the thing beneath him, its spasming body whipping itself out of his mouth as its eyeless skull became a slow cooker. A thought crossed his mind - the fact that he was so much warmer from so much energy forcing its way through him - and he felt just curious enough about why it hadn¡¯t actually hurt him to tamp down a bit of panic. He spat hair and blood onto the ground as he felt the tingling pain left over from the charge, like his entire body had fallen asleep. As soon as he could reliably move, however, he dove back into the cave as fast as his legs could take him. He took a look at the new debuff. [LIGHTNING ROD X - 00:04:56] Great, he thought. More stuff I don¡¯t understand. He contemplated thinking ¡®Info¡¯ at the debuff, but since he didn¡¯t want to deal with an influx of information - his mind was focused simply on recovery - he didn¡¯t put enough will behind it to make anything happen. He looked out at what was apparently called a Fialtog; it was soaked in a couple of patches with his own blood, which seemed to have fully coagulated in the heat of the strike. He smiled, looking down and noticing the bolt had the secondary effect he''d wanted, as well; it had cauterized the wounds that were pouring blood. Absently, he wondered why he didn¡¯t get a debuff that said something like Bleeding. He''d have to get the info on that later- [DEBUFF INFO: BLEED EFFECT: Health decreases by a higher rate of damage for each instance of Bleed on a target. Not all bleeding is the Bleed affliction; oftentimes, Bleed is only induced by special magical weapons or attacks, and actively includes one or more Anticoagulant effects within the debuff itself.] He heaved a sigh. He did want to know, but any information at that moment was going in one ear and shot back out the other. The panic party that was his brain refused any and all new data, only wanting to give him a migraine and the shakes. He swallowed hard, realizing he couldn¡¯t move his right arm still. He assumed healing magic must have been a thing, so he tried not to worry about it too much. ¡®Tried¡¯ being the operative word. Despite everything he had done to try and think instead of freak out before, his brain was in a primal state of fear and agitation. He shook his head, looking around the cave and making sure he didn¡¯t miss any more abominations that this place had laying nearby, then he looked out at the slowly brightening sky overhead. It was still raining, but after catching his breath, he finally realized it was some sort of sun-shower. The sun was rising, but no overcast clouds could be seen. He shook his head, fight or flight instincts pounding against his skull, which resulted in a throbbing migraine. He desperately wanted to lie down and take a nap, maybe eat some snacks or something. Calm down and reset his mind. Unfortunately, he had no such luxuries; the best thing he could hope for was his natural regeneration making him feel better as soon as possible. Even if he could have slept safely then, he wouldn¡¯t want to; he was unsure if the first lightning strike - and subsequent throttling he''d experienced - had given him a concussion. He glanced at the charred corpse still laying outside. It was an ashy black now, muzzle cauterized where his fangs had sunk into it. He felt his prominent underbite, remnants of the creature lightly coating the teeth. A new screen lit up in front of him. [You have slain 1 {Fialtog}! Would you like to loot {Fialtog}? >Y/N ] He couldn¡¯t register the words for a few seconds, and the tinnitus he hadn¡¯t realized he was experiencing until then began to fade. It lasted a few minutes, much like his mindless state, and all at once he snapped himself back to the present. He felt lightheaded, nauseous and woozy all over again. Glancing at the prompt, he half-heartedly selected yes. A sack the size of a volleyball fell on his head from where it seemingly materialized in the air, and he hit the floor hard. It wasn¡¯t enough to knock him out, but it certainly rang his bell. [Congratulations! You have defeated 1 {Fialtog}! You have gained the following loot: He shook his head, gingerly touching the top of his skull. Not feeling any blood or bruising, he sighed, going to open the bag before realizing his arm still wasn¡¯t working right. It hung an inch lower than before, but all of the flesh was cauterized. He gagged and heaved as he caught the torn and exposed muscle from his periphery, covering his mouth to keep anything else from coming up. Unfortunately, stepping in the now lukewarm pile of vomit from earlier broke open the flood gates, and he added a fresh layer of bile to the cavern floor. After he regained his composure, he took a shaky breath, spitting out remnant chunks and stomach acid. The taste was vile, but no worse than he''d dealt with before in his life. He inspected the window that had popped up, blinking at the laundry list of goodies. He didn¡¯t think that levels were a thing - "thresholds" here, apparently - since there wasn¡¯t a pop-up for them in the menu he''d looked at. Not willing to make the same mistake twice, he searched the cave for an alcove that was empty and closed off on all but one side. Soon, he found a fitting hovel, as well as a large rock that could block off the entrance. He looked at his fingers, then jammed them into the stone, wondering if his half-baked idea would work. When they sank into the stone like butter, he grinned broadly. He rolled the rock haphazardly back to the indentation that would let him rest with plenty of open space, despite the difficulty of doing so with one good arm. He hoped beyond hope that he wouldn¡¯t have to amputate that limb. He''d look into the bizarre physics later on. After blocking himself off from anything else that the cave could send at him, he took a solid two or three minutes for himself. Fortunately, using the 4-7-8 technique multiple times helped him to re-center his body and abate a solid amount of inner turmoil. Finally, it was time to take stock of his situation, and the first thing he did was inspect his intuition about his surroundings and immediate well-being. He always trusted his gut, and only now did he feel he could actually sit back and listen to it; much to his relief, it told him that he was safe, and that was good enough for him. Continuing to breathe in the same pattern as he worked, he opened the menus to read through what he hadn¡¯t had the chance to before. The first thing he did was looking into his settings. He set loot to ''Auto-Place in Inventory'', gingerly rubbing his head. He took a deep, shaky breath; his judgement was clearly compromised, so sleep was first and foremost. He could always look into the Chroma information after his mind regained focus. He never liked to learn when tired, because it never stuck with him. As he was then, the Chroma stuff would go in one ear and out the other. The thought of a concussion crossed his mind, but the growing drowsiness and lack of anyone around him to aid him in staying awake urged his eyelids to droop further and further. He tried to fight the sleep, but eventually, it overtook him in a gentle yet undeniable grasp. Chapter 3 ~ Hidden Strength When Cog woke up, he was expecting a handful of messages to be waiting for him. Perhaps four or five warning him about sleeping with a concussion, maybe a couple about some buff or debuff based on the condition of his makeshift bed. He had dozed off on the hard ground and felt stiff all over, though his mind was more refreshed than he expected. He also had the distinct feeling that he hadn''t been asleep for very long. When his vision was filled with more pop-ups than the computer of his grandparents, he sighed. He let himself wake up for a couple of minutes before skimming over them. Most weren¡¯t about his current statuses, though he still got a few debuffs. [DEBUFFS ANTILINGUAL: 0:00:00 - New Ability Unlocked: {Automatic Translation} WEARY I: X:XX:XX - Removed or increased depending on quality of sleep SEVERE WOUNDS: X:XX:XX - Removed once all dire wounds are healed properly BEDLAM: X:XX:XX - Confirm All Choices to Resolve this Debuff ] Cog blinked. Looking around, he rubbed his eyes and thanked whatever higher power might exist that he still had his dark vision. Then, he swapped to expletives as he realized everything that happened was real, and that his arm was still gruesomely attached with a massive series of stringy, exposed muscle and cauterized scabs an inch thick. He flinched at the sight, holding back a gag, and took a deep breath. At that point, the now comfortably common pattern of the pop-ups¡¯ frequency melded in his mind with the abnormal situation, winding up with a very bizarre mental state in regards to reality. Kicking himself both metaphorically and literally, he got back on track. It was real - that much was evident, at least to some degree. That meant he had two goals; figure out what was going on, and get his arm healed. [QUEST RECEIVED: We¡¯re not in Kansas anymore! OBJECTIVE: Figure out where you wound up early this morning. REWARD: 10 RD, 1 OD, NEGLIGIBLE INCREASE TO MIND QUEST RECEIVED: An Arm for An Arm OBJECTIVE: Heal or replace your severely wounded arm. REWARD (Heal): MINUTE INCREASE TO BODY, +1% MAX HP REWARD (Replace): MINUTE INCREASE TO AURA, +1% MAX STAMINA] The pop-ups startled him so harshly that he yelped aloud. They erupted into his vision without so much as a warning. He rubbed his temples and shook his head, reading over the quest. He was planning on doing both things regardless, but hey - if this system wanted to reward him for doing obvious tasks, he wouldn¡¯t turn it away. He¡¯d need every advantage he could get, of that he was certain. He stood, stretching his good arm, before beginning to shift the massive rock blocking him into the alcove. As soon as it began to grind against the floor, he heard a voice call out. ¡°What was that!?¡± He froze, mind blazing with thought. Strangers! Could they help him? Would they help him? Would they kill him, let him find a healer, tell him where he was or even notice his presence? Did they speak English, or did he somehow know their language? He took a few rapid, heavy breaths before shoving the boulder away with all his might, making a gap just barely wide enough for him to leap through. He saw torch light flare into his darkness-adjusted eyes. He screamed, covering his vision with one hand as he frantically turned off the ability, which had become a lime green block of painfully bright proportions until it finally shut off. After he wiped his tearing eyes, he looked to see who was carrying the torch. It was a man - no taller than five and a half feet - with skin that almost seemed to absorb light. It reminded him of that weird, 98% black paint that was popular a couple of years ago. Something that disturbed him slightly was that, as the two stared at one another, the newcomer¡¯s skin seemed to be¡­ dissolving off? Clouds of the same absolute darkness as his surface were drifting up from various points like truck exhaust in the winter. He wore a highly mismatched suit - the top was a diamond-print jacket made up of dandelion yellow and baby puke green squares, and his pants were a tan, scarlet and pale orange plaid pattern. His tie was a deep purple, and it was mostly tucked into his jacket. His hands were covered in thin, camo-print gloves, and only after seeing them did he realize his arms were mismatched lengths. His torso was shorter than it should have been, and his legs were oddly long. The weird proportions made the clothes - which were plainly created for an average man¡¯s body - leave various small gaps that let the void-esque skin peek through. Strangest of all, though, was the fact that his head was covered in a paper bag. Only eye holes were cut out of it, and the aggressively mint green irises flared above silver-blue sclera. His pupils had dilated to a disturbing degree upon spotting Cog, and the latter felt his heart drop. Neither of them moved. Seconds passed into what felt like minutes. Cog began to sweat, desperately trying not to shift his weight to a more comfortable position. His bad arm was throbbing due to its awkward pose, letting its weight tug at what few bindings it had left. It took the horrifying man a moment, but the shade¡¯s eyes eventually drifted to that damned arm. He stared at it for another handful of seconds before returning his gaze to Cog¡¯s. ¡°Xandir?¡± someone called. For a split second, the man turned his gaze to the voice. Cog took that instant to tug the boulder with the same heaving might as before, leaping inside the rapidly sealed alcove. He saw the shadow man reach down to stop the boulder, but he¡¯d narrowly missed the window he¡¯d needed. Cog began to hyperventilate as he leaned his back against the giant stone, and he felt his heartbeat rattle his heaving lungs. After sitting for a few seconds, his brain registered his muffled voice saying something clipped and commanding, but he couldn¡¯t make sense of the words - they were barely perceptible as speech, most likely him replying to his companion. Cog just kept leaning against the barrier between him and the stranger, even as a series of rapidly fleeting footsteps echoed through the cave¡¯s depths. A sudden shifting behind him made his panicked perception narrow into a fight or flight response, and there was nowhere to flee to. The bastard was trying, and succeeding, in moving the rock! The living umbra mumbled more imperceptible chatter that Cog couldn¡¯t make out through the foot or two of stone, but the latter planted his feet with ferocity. He used his entire body to pull the stone towards himself, like dragging a massive box. He gritted his teeth as he still moved the stone somehow, and his feet began to shift. His strength was a little high compared to the average person in the system, but it didn¡¯t even feel as though he had any in the face of that creep¡¯s own power. Why can¡¯t I put more into it? Cog growled in his mind. The damned shadow on the other side of the boulder kept talking like he didn¡¯t need to put forth any effort. Wasn¡¯t Cog himself some mythical creature now? Shouldn¡¯t he have more strength? He grunted aloud, clenching every muscle in his body, and tugged hard. Nothing happened, aside from the pain in his arm flaring again. His stomach sank. He tried again, but to no effect. Something inside him suddenly stirred, just for an instant. Something not entirely himself. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. In that moment, he felt a brief but undeniable rush of strength and will overwhelm him, letting him slam the rock not only back into place, but squeeze it into the small indent further than it should have gone. Both it and the makeshift seam around it cracked slightly, but otherwise did not budge further. He withdrew his good hand and fell face-first onto the floor. Thankfully, his shorter stature made the impact far less painful. Unfortunately, he had landed right on his bad arm. Of course, at the angle he hit it, the scabs ripped open and he began to bleed again. He cursed under his breath, health bar ticking down once more; it was blessedly less than when he¡¯d first gotten the injury, but it was still a noticeable degradation. He heaved a shaky sigh, knowing what he had to do next. To be safe, though, he froze and listened carefully to what Plan B was saying from behind the makeshift wall. Any sign of maliciousness from the stranger meant that he¡¯d stay right where he was and figure out another cauterization trick. Or something. ¡°...Help¡­ Not hurt¡­ Unsure¡­ Come out?¡± The few words Cog could make out while actively focusing were largely muffled, but he eeked out the odd articulation in the stranger''s words. Cog was certain that he''d misheard some words, but got the gist that the stranger was trying to lure him out under the claims the former had made; they seemingly wanting to help the newcomer, and more specifically, aid in his arm''s situation. Then, it hit Cog. There was a void person outside who looked like a thrift shop threw up on him. He let out an all-too-loud squeaking laugh, then covered his mouth quickly as he kept snorting. A shadow demon wearing a three-piece suit from the eighties was just too much for him at that moment. The primal fear he felt at his core dissipated as quickly as it took hold of his mind, and he shook off the remaining confusion. The person outside sounded genuine, and their eyes - upon further reflection - held no malintent. Cog shook his head, chuckling softly as he went to move the stone, then realized he had another problem. He couldn¡¯t move the rock he¡¯d savagely pulled into the entrance. He heaved a sigh, stretching his arm out. He pushed as hard as he could, and although it wasn¡¯t moving, he could feel the potential for it to give; it wasn¡¯t dissimilar to trying to take out a screw that you know will come out, but it just needs a solid twist or three to loosen up. He leaned and pushed with all his might a handful of times before it finally came loose. He slowly shoved the stone out of the way as he shuffled to the entrance, looking around for the suited shade. Sure enough, the stranger was right where Cog had left him, more or less. The man¡¯s face was mostly covered by the paper bag, but Cog could tell he was raising an eyebrow by the shift in the bag¡¯s creases. ¡°You¡¯re an odd one.¡± The man said, tilting his head. Despite wearing a full-head mask, his voice wasn¡¯t muffled in the slightest. ¡°You know, I¡¯m not so sure I understand your kind as much as I thought I did.¡± Something in Cog''s brain clicked, and he realized the umbral man was talking in a specific tone of voice; like he was someone¡¯s pet, or like a scared wild animal. It was a small tonal shift in his voice, but he knew it well, seeing as his job had him dealing with tons of different pets. As long as he was willing to take it step by step, Cog would be fine. Not like he¡¯d bite the shadow or anything. Not unless it got too close. ¡°Well, I can see you have a nasty injury,¡± the man continued, ¡°and I saw the corpse outside. I¡¯m wondering what happened. I just wish you could talk to me¡­¡± Cog suppressed a grin, then opened his menu mentally. He did his best to maintain eye contact with the shadowy man; if he could catch him by surprise, he''d have time to prepare his reaction to bolt if he¡¯d need to. He went through the menus until he found the Antilingual debuff¡¯s pop-up. [ERROR - You have the Sub-Ability {Automatic Translation} from Racial Ability {BEDLAM}. Applying all languages¡­] Cog fought the urge to make a move or sound as the man before him continued talking, though it became next to impossible when his head throbbed with a migraine that nearly made him pass out. He could actually feel pathways being made in it, like a laser printer wildly flailing across the interior of his skull. He fell on his rear, coughing ferociously and spitting out a couple balls of phlegm, blood and odd fleshy bits he didn¡¯t want to consider. As soon as he discharged the gunk, he felt significantly better nearly instantly. He blinked at that, unable to hide his surprise. The man - Xandir, someone had presumably called him - froze. His eyes widened, darting from the pech to the direction of the cave¡¯s entrance, then back to Cog. The corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t believe it¡­¡± he muttered, then paused. ¡°No, I shouldn¡¯t assume. It could be one of a handful of things.¡± He scratched his neck, head tilted back to expose it fully, before he shifted into a casual stance. ¡°So. Would you like to come with me, little guy?¡± he asked, smiling warmly. ¡°Odds are, you¡¯ve just experienced something that¡¯s truly unique, and I want to make sure you live long enough to take advantage of it.¡± Cog tilted his head, confused. ¡°You can talk, can¡¯t you.¡± Xandir said with a smirk. It wasn¡¯t a question. Cog nodded, then hesitated for just a moment before speaking. ¡°Just got the ability back.¡± he said, voice groggy. It sounded like his normal voice, but higher pitched and far more gravelly - like if he put on a gremlin voice changer. He didn¡¯t show it, but his new vocals made him smile to himself with amusement; at least, until he got into a coughing fit that wracked his torso with more burning, stinging pain and a lingering soreness. As soon as Cog had begun to speak, Xandir¡¯s face lit up with intrigue and childlike whimsy, then understanding upon taking in what the talking pech actually said. ¡°So not a massively powerful pech, then,¡± he said, tapping his chin through the bag. ¡°It also sounds like you had the ability before, or you wouldn¡¯t have said ¡®back¡¯.¡± He turned away from Cog, biting his thumbnail absently. It was an awkward thing to see, him not bothering to remove the paper barrier. Cog was more surprised to see that the paper bag didn¡¯t so much as tear or get punctured by Xandir¡¯s teeth. Assuming he has teeth, Cog thought. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you just randomly learned how to talk?¡± Xandir asked. ¡°I can safely say no,¡± Cog replied. Xandir frowned, leaning his back against the cavern wall with one hand covering his mouth. His fingers tentatively scratched at the side of his bag-mask. Cog then noticed the movement didn¡¯t cause any sort of crinkling, which gave him a bit of a start. Was it not made of paper, after all? It sure looked like a typical grocery bag. He realized his thought process was causing an uncomfortable lapse in the discussion. Once the silence had become sufficiently awkward, he spoke again. ¡°Is your name actually Xandir?¡± he asked. Xandir looked at him in surprise, and he couldn¡¯t help but take a slightly defensive tone. ¡°What, the person yelling a name in this direction only for you to turn and face them wasn¡¯t an obvious indicator of your identity?¡± he snapped. ¡°I¡­ suppose that makes sense.¡± Xandir muttered, eyeing the direction the voice had originally called him from. His hand went back over his mouth. The fingers idly tapped his mask again, and Cog could barely make out a soft impact sound. ¡°Yes, my name is Xandir. That was one of my work partners, Noelle.¡± He paused before speaking again, hand shifting to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. ¡°I¡­ was led to believe that the pech are practically mindless. I didn¡¯t think even one could talk, much less conduct conscious and intentional thought.¡± He looked at Cog intensely, scanning his body before speaking again. ¡°I take it your instincts made you bolt into your¡­ what, hovel? Den? Nest?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t exactly the most common sight.¡± Cog muttered meekly. ¡°It was a bit more than instincts, and that thing is definitely not my typical home. As for you, the realization that you aren¡¯t some eerie, maniacal shadow demon let me come out here. Sorry for the assumptions, Mr. Xandir.¡± ¡°Just Xandir is fine.¡± He smirked. ¡°A shadow demon, huh? I¡¯ve been called worse, but what about you? What are you called?¡± ¡°I, uh¡­ My name is... Cog.¡± ¡°Cog?¡± Xandir questioned, blankly staring at Cog. ¡°Are your kind named after objects?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s-¡± Cog sighed, then calmed himself mentally. ¡°It¡¯s a bit of a long explanation.¡± ¡°Then we can save it for the road. I want to get you healed,¡± Xandir said, gesturing to Cog¡¯s bad arm. The pech blinked. ¡°This can be healed?¡± he asked in astonishment, flinching as he had unintentionally tried to move the arm. The pain erupted in full force, and he nearly passed out from the agony. Xandir looked at him like he was an idiot. ¡°Cog, anything can be healed with enough time and magic.¡± He said. ¡°You¡¯ll have to show me.¡± Cog grumbled out the words in an indignant huff. Xandir smiled. ¡°I suppose it is far more costly than a cavern-dwelling goblin-fae could afford.¡± He said, gesturing down the cavern in the direction Cog had come from. ¡°I will insist on hearing how you slaughtered that creature outside, as well.¡± Cog nodded, letting out a breath that relieved a vast majority of the stress he¡¯d been carrying. As he began to walk alongside Xandir, he let out a bit more steam that had been building up; if he couldn¡¯t do anything about the pain, he figured he¡¯d at least do something about his curiosity and perturbances. ¡°It¡¯s honestly a relief to find someone else. I¡¯ve been a bit lost on everything around here, and I¡¯m hoping you¡¯ll help me fill the gaps in his knowledge of this place.¡± ¡°Of course!¡± Xandir exclaimed, hands clapping together. ¡°I adore teaching others, and it seems as though you¡¯ve got an excellent basis in general living. Where would you like to start?¡± ¡°Where am I?¡± Cog asked, tentatively. Xandir blinked. ¡°As in¡­ Around here? This cavern? The district?¡± ¡°As in the world.¡± Xandir stopped, staring at him in search of some inside joke. When he saw that the pech wasn¡¯t kidding, Xandir sighed loudly and dramatically. ¡°This is going to be a long ride.¡± Chapter 4 ~ Questions & Introductions Xandir¡¯s exasperated eyes gradually fell into a deadpan expression, almost like he¡¯d given up trying to take Cog seriously. ¡°What planet do you think we¡¯re on?¡± Xandir asked. ¡°Earth..?¡± Cog said, tentatively. Xandir blinked. ¡°You think we¡¯re on¡­ Earth.¡± ¡°Um¡­ Yes.¡± ¡°A planet. Called. ¡®Earth¡¯.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡± He somehow gave Cog a more intense deadpan stare. ¡°And you¡¯re sticking with that?¡± he asked. Cog nodded. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± Xandir said. His eyes held a glint of genuine concern. ¡°I am certain that I¡¯m from a planet called Earth, yes. Unless I somehow warped across the cosmos, I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯d still be on it.¡± Xandir was silent for a long moment, causing Cog to raise an eyebrow in his direction. ¡°I¡¯m going out on a limb here,¡± he muttered, ¡°and assuming we¡¯re not on Earth.¡± Xandir pinched his brow through the bag, sighing in defeat. ¡°Either you¡¯re being truthful, or you¡¯re messing with me. Can¡¯t read an aura that doesn¡¯t exist, so I¡¯ll have to take you at your word¡­¡± He straightened his coat before continuing. ¡°We are on a planet called ?thoun.¡± Cog¡¯s gut dropped in an instant. Now it was his turn to wonder if Xandir was the one messing with him. ¡°?thoun?¡± he asked. Xandir nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, before a notebook seemed to appear in his hands out of nowhere. He retrieved a pen in much the same way - a clearly normal, stationary pen, which surprised Cog - before skimming through the leather-bound pages. Then, Xandir licked his finger through the bag, turning the page. The spot where his tongue visibly moved beneath the mask was bone dry, and Cog¡¯s curiosity reached a boiling point. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Cog said. ¡°I know this is off topic, but what the hell even is that mask?¡± ¡°...Whaddya mean?¡± Xandir asked, and Cog nearly pulled a muscle, head whipping to face the man. ¡°What do I mean!?¡± Cog said. ¡°What I mean is, your mask is an abomination of nature! It looks like a paper bag, and I swear I¡¯ve heard it crinkle like one, but it¡¯s very obviously not made out of paper.¡± Throughout his exasperated tangent, Cog¡¯s good hand flew about wildly, every other motion a gesture to Xandir¡¯s mask. ¡°Why are you even wearing that thing? I can¡¯t imagine it¡¯s anything too horrific under there - if there was, the odds are your speech would be hindered, and your inflection is impeccable! Seriously, the fuck?¡± There was a brief pause in Xandir¡¯s gait, punctuated by a pregnant silence. ¡°You have an interesting idiolect.¡± Xandir said, then continued walking. ¡°You..! I¡­!¡± Cog sputtered, again aggressively gesturing to Xandir¡¯s bag, before finally heaving a mighty sigh of discontentment. ¡°Alright, fine,¡± he said. ¡°Another time, though?¡± ¡°Another time.¡± Xandir said, a smile¡¯s presence making itself known through his voice. Cog felt the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly. ¡°So, uh¡­ What was in your notes?¡± ¡°A theory for your situation.¡± Xandir said, Cog¡¯s attention immediately caught. ¡°Really?¡± he said. ¡°I wanna hear this.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Xandir explained, ¡°Putting it as plainly as I know how, your soul could have been pulled here by some extraplanar magical means. Some massive event on the scale of a supernova or planetary collapse. You know what those are, correct?¡± Cog nodded, the start of a smile fading as the realization of his current predicament finally unfurled. It took him a long moment to gather his thoughts. ¡°So¡­ really not on Earth,¡± he muttered, kicking the dirt as he started walking again. ¡°That sucks. I¡¯m gonna have to learn a whole bunch of new shit, which is going to be a massive pain.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not so bad here, and the vast majority of people I¡¯ve met are quite amenable. Maybe this place is better than your own world..?¡± Xandir said, nudging optimism into the question. ¡°I hope so, though that¡¯s not exactly a high bar.¡± Cog said. ¡°Well,¡± Xandir said, gesturing to a footpath only then coming into view. ¡°Let¡¯s go find my carriage and the rest of the research expedition members, and I¡¯ll answer any questions you have for me. Your system should cover most of it, and it¡¯s made to help your mind understand the metaphysical. I don¡¯t think being from another universe would change that, but just in case, I¡¯ll be your own personal starting guide.¡± ¡°That¡­ would be incredible! Thank you so much!¡± Cog said, letting out a breath. ¡°We will, however, have to heal your arm at a nearby outpost. It¡¯s only a handful of miles out.¡± Xandir replied. ¡°A few miles?¡± Cog sighed, looking out over the rocky path before them. He wearily braced himself for what would inevitably be a painfully bumpy ride. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Xandir led Cog to a large vehicle, unlike anything he¡¯d seen before. The doors reminded him of a refrigerator, rubber seals on the inside and all. The material they were made from was a bizarre, yellow-green metal he hadn¡¯t seen before, said metal extending its use to the overall body of the vehicle. Its gothic interior was sporting shades of green, black and bronze, providing an earthy appearance. The overall shape of the vehicle was close to an oddly elongated Volkswagen Beetle, and it moved on what Cog could only describe as economy-grade tank treads. There were plenty of seats inside - just at a glance, he saw six excluding the driver and passenger - and counted three occupants. The first, an alabaster-skinned woman with hair as black as night and eyes of a vibrant royal purple, inspected him with intense trepidation. Her ornate violet and gold cloak fully covered her body, and a pair of pointy ears stood straight out of her locks, which were currently tied back in a rushed bun. Her face held a soft but elegant appearance, with narrow features which were still somehow rounded. Cog was unsure if she looked more like an elf or a vampire, but kept the curious observation to himself. The second was another woman, but this one was tan and muscular. Her vibrant red-orange hair was tied back into a ponytail, and her eyes were a dazzling powder blue. Her outfit - a lightweight blouse that matched her eyes and a pair of what could only be described as medieval yoga pants - didn¡¯t do much to hide her well-toned body. Her face was more chiseled than the first woman¡¯s, though not by much, and was certainly no less flattering. She gave Cog a friendly smile that didn¡¯t meet her eyes, clearly human features tensed in a trepidatious manner. Finally, the third person was a hulking, green-skinned man with ears less tall but far more wide than the first woman¡¯s own. His long, dusty brown hair was also tied into a ponytail, though far more sloppily than the redhead¡¯s. His eyes were a sparkling magenta color, and his facial features reflected his heavily muscular frame in their broad angles. He wore nothing but a pair of pants - very similar to the redhead¡¯s own, though gray instead of brown - with a yellow belt tied around it. His arms were crossed, looking at Cog with an eyebrow raised. Like the bleach white woman, his ears were pointed; however, while the woman¡¯s were angled practically straight up and slightly back, the man¡¯s were more like a goblin¡¯s; broader, pointed but not angular, and angled outwards more. Each of the individuals was holding packs that didn¡¯t differ in anything but color. The pale woman¡¯s own was ornate and green - clashing harshly with her outfit - while the green man and redhead both had a yellow one, the latter pristine and well-kept with the former being scorched, caked with mud and torn in a few dozen places. Otherwise, their hands were empty and their eyes were fully trained on the pech. Cog swallowed hard, looking up to Xandir for some help, and the latter turned to face the trio. ¡°Everyone, this is Cog. He¡¯s a pech with a man¡¯s soul in it. That, or a very bizarre mutation and transformation combination. Still haven¡¯t quite figured it out yet, though I¡¯m leaning towards the former.¡± He turned back to Cog. ¡°Cog, these are my assistants.¡± ¡°Partners!¡± The green man bellowed, his voice sporting something akin to a light Brooklyn accent. Xandir rolled his eyes. ¡°Assistants,¡± he corrected. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this, Braune; I pay you. That alone means we aren¡¯t partners; I¡¯m your boss, and you¡¯re my employee.¡± ¡°Yeah-huh. And who goes on all the missions, Xandir? Who gathers up the money you pay us with? Who goes with us in the field every damn time?¡± Xandir peered at Braune through narrowed eyes for a long moment. ¡°So the redhead is Noelle, the dracht is Olga, and the big man here is Braune.¡± Olga gave a curt nod to Cog, and Noelle gave a warm smile and small wave. Braune just laughed, hearty voice booming. Xandir let the large man chuckle for a little while before gently tapping his shoulder. ¡°Braune, didn¡¯t you say you would drive us back?¡± Xandir cooed, and Braune rolled his eyes as he stood, laughter still spilling from his grinning mouth. ¡°I lost a bet, so yeah.¡± Braune said, climbing out of his seat. The vehicle visibly tilted as he stood up, and Cog was slack-jawed at the man rising before him. Braune had to be at least seven and a half feet tall, and it didn¡¯t look like he should have been able to get inside the cabin at all. He scratched his back as he shuffled to the driver¡¯s side, gently opening the door and swinging himself inside, once more shaking the entire vehicle. Even after he¡¯d closed the door, Cog could see him trying to adjust the front seat to accommodate himself through a small window in between the cab and back seats. The pech turned back to face Xandir. ¡°He¡¯s, uh¡­ a big guy.¡± Cog said. ¡°A really big guy.¡± He shook his head, remembering something else Xandir had said. ¡°What¡¯s a dracht?¡± Cog asked. ¡°It¡¯s a species of sapient humanoid here.¡± Xandir said. ¡°They¡¯re tall, slender, etherically beautiful compared to the other races-¡± He was interrupted with a metal mug pegging him right between the eyes. ¡°-and tend to have much shorter fuses.¡± he finished, turning to glare at Olga. ¡°What¡¯d I tell you about stating the obvious?¡± she said, huffing. She spoke with a European accent one might expect from the cast of any medieval movie or TV show. It did have a minor twinge of French that Cog only picked up on after a few seconds. ¡°You¡¯re mad at me for complimenting your species,¡± Xandir said, crossing his arms. ¡°That¡¯s hardly a call for violence.¡± ¡°I could always use one of those porcelain mugs instead.¡± Olga retorted. ¡°You could also¡­ not throw mugs.¡± Xandir countered. Olga thought about it, shrugged, and nailed Xandir between the eyes with another metal mug. He seemed unphased physically - he didn¡¯t even blink - though his mental state was clearly something else altogether. It only occurred to Cog then that he hadn¡¯t seen where Olga had gotten the mugs from. Noelle snorted. ¡°Olga, calm down,¡± she said, seemingly pulling a bottle out of thin air. Cog could barely make out the small font on its label. [94-Proof Droplet Alcohol] He blinked. That was a very, very potent drink, assuming their alcoholic proofs were the same as back home. He then realized the implications of how it could actually be the same grading system from back home, which meant this world had parallels to his own. While providing a measure of comfort, Cog absently wondered if mages in this world had higher durability than implied in role playing games on Earth, drifting towards thoughts of contrasts between realms before being abruptly dragged from his ponderings with a loud snap of Noelle¡¯s fingers. ¡°Well?¡± she said, corners of her mouth turning slightly further up. She shook the bottle slightly, urging Cog to take it. The motion was punctuated by an engine roaring to life, the cabin vibrating slightly as the vehicle quickly warmed up. With a sudden lurch that did not recur, they began to move down the gravelly path. ¡°You do have access to Chroma, right?¡± Xandir asked, holding up a hand to keep Noelle from passing the alcohol to Cog. ¡°It¡¯s made with magic, so being magicless could put your life at risk.¡± ¡°Ooh, yeah¡­ good point,¡± Noelle said. ¡°We almost never deal with people who don¡¯t have any magic yet, so it isn¡¯t something I¡¯d considered.¡± The pair turned to look at Cog. ¡°I, uh¡­ I don¡¯t have magic, and I¡¯ve never had a drop of alcohol before in my life,¡± he muttered, blushing slightly more. He quickly added, ¡°I¡¯d prefer to keep it that way, if that¡¯s alright?¡± It was a bit embarrassing to admit he wasn¡¯t a drinker, and more than a bit concerning to be surrounded by people who were. Flashes of his grandma¡¯s violent drunkard stories slipped into his mind. Blessedly, Noelle just shrugged and tossed the bottle to Xandir. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°To each their own, that¡¯s what I say.¡± Noelle said, pulling out a second for herself. She ripped the top off with her teeth, and Cog quickly realized the bottle caps weren¡¯t twist-offs. The simple action made his own teeth ache, and he shuddered involuntarily. ¡°You alright, little guy?¡± Noelle asked. He nodded. ¡°Just¡­ not a fun time to imagine prying a sealed metal cap off of a glass bottle with my teeth.¡± Noelle burst into a fit of laughter, and Olga smirked. Cog blinked, waited for them to stop, then continued. ¡°Is it because of your stats?¡± Xandir paused mid-drink, looking at him consideringly. ¡°You know about stats?¡± ¡°I know a little bit about them. I read through mine while stuck in the cave. Also,¡± Cog said, turning to point a finger at Noelle, then at Olga, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you two ask me why I could talk? Xandir made me think it was unheard of.¡± ¡°Communicators,¡± she said, pulling a far fancier bottle than the other two out of nowhere, then flicking the top right off. She then took out a wine glass and poured a swamp green fluid that smelled like mint and ginger into it before delicately sipping at it. ¡°Ah.¡± Cog said, watching her go through the motions. The scent hit his nose like a semi, and it crinkled before he involuntarily shook. He¡¯d always had a strong sense of smell, and it seemed like this body amplified that by a notable amount. Then, he blinked. ¡°Wait, what¡¯s a communicator?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s a little device we use to send messages to each other from a large distance away. The current range is about five miles,¡± Xandir said, Noelle nodding along. Cog put a hand under his nose like he was trying to hold back a sneeze, silently wishing Olga would put the beverage away. The other bottles smelled like fruity beer, sure, but they were nowhere near the level of Olga¡¯s drink. It didn¡¯t smell bad, per se, but it was just so strong¡­ ¡°Come now, Olga, put the dracht liquor away. The poor thing¡¯s about to get a migraine,¡± Noelle chided, and Olga rolled her eyes, the bottle and glass vanishing into thin air - she hadn¡¯t even finished half of the liquid. The smell lingered for a half minute longer before, finally, Cog felt his senses return to a somewhat neutral state. He sighed, sinking into his seat. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± he mumbled, giving Olga a brief nod of thanks. She simply shrugged. Xandir looked ready to say something, but Noelle held up a hand. ¡°You must have questions for us.¡± Noelle said, giving Cog another warm smile. ¡°We¡¯ll answer them the best we can, so just ask away!¡± Cog nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths before scratching his chin. ¡°I guess my first question is if these vehicles are safe? I got jumped by some feline menace with, what¡­ six mouths? I¡¯d honestly feel safer on foot unless they can¡¯t touch this thing; I¡¯d rather not deal with another one while trying to crawl out from a heap of wreckage.¡± ¡°This car is about as safe as you can get without special military authority,¡± Xandir said, gesturing to the cabin around them. ¡°Two inches of solid orichalcum wrapping two inches of mythril, which is lined with enchanted padding and cushions. Things can get in here, but they¡¯d need to be of an extraordinarily high threshold and, at that point, being in the car or being outside of it wouldn¡¯t matter anyways.¡± ¡°That¡­ is somehow less comforting than the lightning.¡± Cog said, gently touching his scabbing and cauterized wound before flinching. ¡°You guys have a first aid kit in here or something? I don¡¯t wanna risk infection.¡± ¡°Unfortunately, no.¡± Noelle said. ¡°We were actually on our way to restock this Clanker before we got the call about you.¡± ¡°Call?¡± Cog asked, then put up a hand when Olga went to speak, a telling smirk on her face. ¡°Yeah, I know communicators exist, thank you. I¡¯m more curious about who and why. Not to be rude,¡± he added, shrinking back into his seat from the hostile glare Olga flashed him. Her face returned to a bored, neutral expression shortly thereafter. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s having to do with our line of work.¡± Noelle said. ¡°Which is..?¡± Cog asked. ¡°Paranormal and Metaphysical Investigators.¡± Xandir said. ¡°PMIs, for short.¡± Cog snorted aloud, causing a lot of eyebrow raises aimed in his direction. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said, looking down at his hands. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ this is all so ridiculous to me, and the thought of paranormal investigators in a fantasy world, at least in comparison to my own, it just¡­ I dunno. It kind of slipped out. Sorry again.¡± ¡°No need to apologize.¡± Noelle said, gently patting his good shoulder. ¡°We get how stressful this kind of thing can be. It¡¯s why we do what we do, in fact.¡± ¡°It¡¯s quite rare,¡± Xandir added, ¡°but if we find anyone without Chroma in the midst of magical events, we¡¯re also to ensure they¡¯re set up for success in this world to at least a small degree. It¡¯s a part of our job these days, with the danger escalating and all.¡± He scratched his chin. ¡°Although, I¡¯m not sure you exactly count as people.¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯m people.¡± Cog said, and despite the phrasing initially being a joke, something deep inside him abruptly shifted. It felt like it was deeper in his subconscious than his mind could observe, and he shuddered slightly. ¡°Don¡¯t you mean ¡®a person¡¯?¡± Olga asked, an eyebrow raised. ¡°I know what I said.¡± Olga and Noelle shared a glance, then both turned to face Xandir. He shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me. I just offered a theory I¡¯d heard about that could fit. Everything I sent you over the communicators is everything I could think of.¡± ¡°Wait, a theory?¡± Cog asked. ¡°A theory on what?¡± ¡°How you got here, of course.¡± ¡°What theory would that be? I know you mentioned something about my soul earlier. Was that related?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not exactly-¡± ¡°We could possibly use it to find me a way back home!¡± ¡°Well, I-¡± ¡°Is it, like, an extradimensional pocket deal? A black hole transportation situation, or a wormhole? Maybe a-¡± ¡°Okay, I am definitely the wrong person to answer those questions,¡± Xandir said, waving his arms in front of himself. ¡°I don¡¯t know the fine details of the theory, and I don¡¯t want to make assumptions that could get anyone into ankle-deep shit. Besides, my specialty isn¡¯t related to interdimensional travel. Or intradimensional travel. It¡¯s how magic grows and develops.¡± He straightened his suit jacket with a quick tug, then turned back to Cog. ¡°Sorry, but I don¡¯t want to raise a stink over you if I don¡¯t have to. I need definitive proof before anything else.¡± ¡°What would raise a stink? What proof?¡± Cog asked, and Xandir pinched his brow in response. ¡°We really need to get this guy to the office,¡± Olga said, gesturing to Cog with a snort. ¡°He¡¯s giving Xandir an aneurysm.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s all fine¡­¡± Xandir muttered, taking a deep breath before turning to Cog. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll tell you what I know about it, but take it with a grain of salt, okay?¡± Cog nodded vigorously, leaning in to listen, and Xandir sighed. ¡°Basically, if what happened is what I thought, then you¡¯re something known as an ¡®Arnik¡¯, which is derived from an old world language; the word it¡¯s pulled from means ¡®Jailer¡¯. They enter a sort of commensalism with a random humanoid individual sporting power significant enough to support the Arnik¡®s soul, and it¡¯s always the closest suitable vessel that the soul possesses out of reflex. The Arnik then suppresses the soul of the living being, making the body its own and either feeding off of, pushing out, or otherwise permanently suppressing the body¡¯s original soul. For all intents and purposes, it¡¯s a form of slaughter.¡± Xandir rubbed his eyes wearily, pausing for a few seconds to let the information sink in. ¡°The issues rise with protestors who want the civic authority to punish those who become an Arnik, simply due to the fact they murdered someone. They don¡¯t even take into account how it¡¯s not a choice for anyone involved; it¡¯s a simple matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Social studies are more Noelle¡¯s expertise, though.¡± Noelle nodded, picking up the explanation. ¡°A lot of people think that the souls of both sides should be immediately set free and returned to the Grand Convergence. Olga can tell you about that when I¡¯m done if you like, but I digress. The point is, they see both parties as lost causes due to the nature of their souls. It¡¯s an odd paradox where we know the inherent traits of a soul, but anyone you ask with any form of religion that opposes what those souls naturally do will tell you that only purely evil souls can become Arnik, right up there with baby stabbers and terrorists. They think that, so long as the souls return to the Grand Convergence in a timely manner, they can be purified in their journey. It¡¯s all a load of rubbish; there¡¯s no ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®evil¡¯ in souls, just survival instincts and magic.¡± ¡°And personality.¡± Olga pointed out, Noelle nodding. The pair turned to look at Cog, whose face was blank and clearly struggling with comprehension. He was muttering unintelligible questions about morality and souls. ¡°Did we break him?¡± Noelle asked, concerned. ¡°If he really is an Arnik,¡± Xandir said, ¡°Then he must have come from a world with very little magic, or he would have possessed a member of a sentient species. Probably means he has no clue what really happens in death, or what souls truly are. I¡¯ll make sure to explain it to him later.¡± The cabin was filled with silence for a long moment before Cog once again breathed deeply, rubbing his face. When he didn¡¯t talk for another long moment, Xandir adjusted himself slightly. ¡°Listen, Cog,¡± he said. ¡°I can understand your confusion and insecurity about these new truths, but we can all assure you-¡± ¡°Assure me of your existence as figments of my imagination? Maybe somehow provide proof you¡¯re all real and this isn¡¯t some desperate fever dream?¡± Cog retorted, voice snapping sharply. ¡°If this is a dream, I want to wake up right goddamn now. I¡¯ve had more than enough doubts in my life, and I don¡¯t need a squad of delusional hallucinations to amplify them!¡± He ran a hand over his face, aggression melting into an intense weariness. ¡°I don¡¯t know what more we can tell you.¡± Olga said, shrugging. ¡°You just summarized our own truths, and if you think you¡¯re schizophrenic, that¡¯s your business.¡± Cog paused. ¡°You know what schizophrenia is?¡± he asked, causing the pale woman to raise an eyebrow. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s a very disturbing mental disease.¡± ¡°Huh.¡± Cog said, pausing to consider for a moment before vigorously shaking his head. ¡°No, no, no. You only know what schizophrenia is because I know what it is. Because you¡¯re delusions in my head. You aren¡¯t going to drive me insane, because this is all a hallucination of my subconscious or something. A delusion long-lived by my unconscious perception.¡± Xandir turned to Cog, eyes revealing a slightly sympathetic gaze. ¡°How can it be a dream if you¡¯re this lucid?¡± Xandir asked. Cog froze. He hadn¡¯t considered that, and took stock. His mind felt as though it were properly functioning, though without his typical flighty tendencies. He hadn¡¯t realized just how in-the-moment he was, or how clearly his brain thought since arriving in ?thoun. He thought back to when he was prepared to accept the world as real to ensure his safety, but as soon as his beliefs and fundamental understandings of the universe were called into question, his brain went into overdrive to explain why that just wasn¡¯t possible. It hadn¡¯t realized it was functioning far better than normal, and it locked up his string of excuses. Even the pain in his arm was agonizingly real, but unable to disrupt his thoughts any more than a tap on his shoulder might. Not even a lucid dream could explain this; even in the few he¡¯d had on Earth, Cog had moments when his mind became foggy throughout them. Not once since his arrival had he felt so much as a particle of haze cross through his conscious ponderings. ¡°It¡­ can¡¯t be. It can¡¯t be a dream, can it?¡± Cog said aloud, turning to Xandir. ¡°That¡¯s how I knew what to do with the cat thing. Why I wasn¡¯t completely freaking out when I first woke up.¡± ¡°The cat thing is called a Fialtog, and the way you killed it is still a story I want to hear,¡± Xandir said. ¡°I even knew to look through what I could within the system when it started up for me¡­¡± Cog continued, not registering Xandir¡¯s comment. The latter shrugged and gestured to Noelle, who snapped her fingers and clapped loudly a few times. Cog jumped, eyes blinking rapidly. ¡°Let¡¯s not slip into our own mind yet, aye?¡± Noelle said gently. Cog nodded, shifting in his seat. ¡°So, off topic question, but¡­ Chroma? Is that, like¡­ magic or something?¡± he asked. ¡°Pretty much.¡± Olga said with a smirk. ¡°Don¡¯t say Chroma itself is magic in front of Xandir, though - he¡¯ll chew you out about how it ¡®isn¡¯t entirely accurate¡¯, even though it really is.¡± Xandir shot a glare at Olga, who chuckled softly. ¡°Alright, so let¡¯s set magic on the side for now, because that¡¯s a whole new bag of worms,¡± Cog said, pinching his temples. ¡°Can we go back to the call? You got a call from someone to come see where I most likely phased into this new universe. What do you do when you¡¯re at one of these paranormal scenes?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Xandir said, ¡°we first make sure to secure the Sioramoeba if possible.¡± ¡°Those are half-sentient single celled organisms that are about twice the size of Braune,¡± Olga said, and Cog felt his gut twist into a pretzel. Seeing the look on his face, she laughed. ¡°It¡¯s only dangerous if you get too close, and they¡¯re relatively slow. A toddler could outrun it.¡± ¡°Jesus Christ¡­¡± Cog muttered. ¡°Who?¡± Xandir asked. ¡°Nobody pertinent to the conversation,¡± Cog said, then gestured for Xandir to continue. ¡°If we can¡¯t catch it quickly - we¡¯re granted about forty-five minutes - we send word back and have specialized teams hunt it down and contain it. They can be tricky to handle, and our little squad here is the rescuing kind, not the containment kind. Trying to wrangle something domineering enough to evade basic capture would take too long for us, whereas the aforementioned specialized team can trap it, seal it and send it on its way to a proper containment facility in under thirty minutes. On average, at least.¡± Xandir paused to take a deep breath before continuing, left hand opened while his right hand tapped along the other¡¯s digits as he went through the processes. ¡°After that, we make sure that all wildlife and people involved are either safe or properly healed, which is where we¡¯re at now. Finally, we get seventy-two hours to get the individual set up with Chroma, if needed, and send them on their way. After that, it¡¯s onto the next job.¡± ¡°We also still get stuck doing our chores around the campsite,¡± Olga said, crossing her arms. ¡°You¡¯d think they¡¯d let us properly help the person, but it just isn¡¯t ¡®time efficient¡¯.¡± ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right,¡± Cog said, distaste clear in his scrunched features. ¡°Gotta love corporate America.¡± ¡°Corporate what?¡± Olga asked. ¡°Nothing,¡± Cog said. ¡°This is all a ton to process at once¡­ How far until we get back to the office?¡± ¡°A few hours, at least,¡± Xandir said. ¡°Alright, so I have plenty of time to let it sink in¡­¡± Cog muttered, then looked up. ¡°So you guys get me all juiced up with magic. What¡¯s after that?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll send you to a training annex nearby,¡± Noelle said. ¡°You¡¯ll be there for six months to a year, depending on how long you want to stay and how spread out you want your training to be. Gives you any basic knowledge you might be missing, too - I¡¯d recommend taking the courses they offer on the System¡¯s functions and all that it entails. There¡¯s only about two dozen of them, each an hour or two long. Easy to fit in.¡± ¡°And after that?¡± Cog asked. ¡°That¡¯s fully your choice,¡± Olga said. ¡°You can easily hunt your own food after that, or you can try to make a difference. Could join in with us as a PMI or make an institution of your own, or just go as a solo act. Hells, you could build a cabin in the middle of nowhere and farm for the rest of your life. Nobody¡¯s going to stop you.¡± ¡°We try to encourage newcomers to join us, since we¡¯re always in need of new people,¡± Xandir said. ¡°Entirely up to you, though, Cog.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see how getting magic goes first,¡± Cog said, running two hands over his face. ¡°This is just¡­ so much. So, so much, y¡¯know?¡± He looked up at Noelle. ¡°How do you even get magic?¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s easy,¡± she said. ¡°You use a drop suite!¡± ¡°A¡­ drop suite?¡± Cog asked, tilting his head. ¡°Yep,¡± Olga said. ¡°Solid Chroma of different densities. It gets your body used to growing with Chroma, which kicks off the system¡¯s Chroma Development Mode. Pretty simple.¡± ¡°How do you take the drops?¡± Cog asked. ¡°Orally.¡± Noelle and Xandir said. ¡°Rectally.¡± Olga said at the same time, then frowned at them. ¡°You guys are no fun,¡± she said. ¡°How long does it usually take?¡± Cog asked, shooting Olga a wary look. ¡°Around 40 hours, give or take,¡± Xandir said. ¡°Without breaks.¡± ¡°Without breaks!?¡± Cog said. ¡°Without breaks,¡± Noelle confirmed. ¡°Fuck,¡± Cog said, forcing himself to relax. He hadn¡¯t even realized he was tensing up until that moment. ¡°Yeah, it sucks, but you¡¯ll get through it,¡± Noelle said, smiling encouragingly. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure no more Fialtogs attack you while you get all Chroma¡¯d up.¡± ¡°Thank you..?¡± Cog said, voice tentative. ¡°What about other stuff that might want to kill me?¡± ¡°You¡¯re on your own,¡± Olga snorted, then all three grinned at each other before bursting into laughter. It was then that he felt his adrenaline finally fade. His eyes felt like lead shutters, and his body was so hard to shift around. The pain in his arm was now his normal, and he put it into a position that made it hurt as little as possible. ¡°Nobody would blame me if I went to sleep, right?¡± Cog asked. ¡°Looks like we couldn¡¯t stop you if we wanted to,¡± Olga said, glancing him up and down. ¡°Go ahead and rest up,¡± Noelle said. ¡°You can ask more questions later.¡± Cog nodded, easing back into his seat. His brain went into overdrive trying to sort the facts out, but succeeded in doing nothing but making a larger mess to straighten out later. He could imagine what sort of reaction his father would have to his new form, or his sister, or his friends¡­ The thoughts of his home eased him just beyond the cacophony in his mind, into an empty, thoughtless state. Then, just like that, Cog fell into the deepest sleep he¡¯d known in his life. Chapter 5 ~ Nightmares ¡°I¡¯ve fucking had it with you!¡± Zachary¡¯s father roared, jabbing a finger in his direction. ¡°All you do is jump from job to job, not holding down anything for more than a couple of months. You need to learn responsibility!¡± ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Zachary retorted. ¡°I-¡± ¡°Try harder!¡± His dad bellowed, slamming his fist onto the arm of his chair. ¡°You¡¯ve been a legal adult for years now, and I¡¯m sick of treating you like a toddler!¡± ¡°Then don¡¯t!¡± Zachary screamed back, bringing about a half second of silence as his father¡¯s face twisted in rage. ¡°I don¡¯t like that tone, Zachary.¡± ¡°Well, I don''t like yours, either!¡± Zachary shouted. ¡°I¡¯m sick of being yelled at for all this shit I¡¯m actively working on! It takes time to change!¡± ¡°Not five years, Zachary.¡± ¡°Yes, five years! Sometimes more!¡± Zachary screamed, his tone rapidly becoming far more enraged than his father¡¯s own. ¡°I¡¯m actively trying to find ways to get myself to function properly! If I say I''ll do something, then I have a tendency to forget to do it. If I say nothing, people get pissed off at me, but I actually do it. I¡¯m trying to keep the positives from both sides while dropping the negatives, but it isn¡¯t easy! In case you haven¡¯t noticed in your 23 years of raising me, I¡¯m a bit of an imbecile who apparently can¡¯t change worth a damn!¡± His father¡¯s face softened at the last words, anger melting away as soon as it had cropped up. ¡°You¡¯re not an imbecile,¡± he said. Zachary snorted. ¡°How the hell else am I so incapable? I make you so stressed all the time, and you¡¯ve said before your migraines are triggered by me a lot!¡± ¡°You know that was said out of a place of anger.¡± ¡°Yeah, but that doesn¡¯t make it wrong! I want you to be rid of those headaches and migraines and pains, but I can¡¯t even change my own stupid behavior for you. What else would that make me, aside from incapable and moronic?¡± ¡°Struggling,¡± his father said, letting out a breath. ¡°Struggling with something you aren¡¯t capable of changing as quickly as you want to - as quickly as we want you to.¡± A heavy silence lingered for several long moments before Zachary¡¯s father spoke again. ¡°I know you¡¯re trying, and I¡¯m sorry for raising my voice to you. It was wrong of me. You just¡­ You have a habit of finding yourself in situations that drive me up the wall, you know? Like I¡¯ve said before, it¡¯s not you I¡¯m upset with, it¡¯s-¡± ¡°The situation,¡± Zachary said in tandem with his father. ¡°I know, but they wouldn¡¯t come about if I was more capable.¡± ¡°You¡¯re trying, and that¡¯s all I can ask,¡± his father said, and Zachary looked down at his hands. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for raising my voice, too.¡± He muttered, and his dad leaned out of his chair to give him a hug. ¡°I love you, bud.¡± ¡°I love you too, dad.¡± Zachary got up, then paused. ¡°Want me to grab you anything before I head back downstairs?¡± He asked. His dad thought for a moment. ¡°A Dr. Pepper, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± He said, and Zachary nodded. He stretched as he stood, glancing at his dad. His father was gone. In his place sat what looked like a vaguely human-shaped hole in reality, a spot of nothingness in the exact same shape of his father. He looked down at his own hands, which were heavily bloodstained with chips of bone and gray matter stuck to them. When he looked forward, he was sitting in a different house - his grandmother¡¯s house - and a corpse with stringy blonde hair was face down in the tiled entryway. The carpet in the living room, directly adjacent, was slowly turning red from blood. He felt the crunching of bone again, the feel of resonation as his arm brought the skull down on the hard marble again and again. He knew his dad and sister were behind him, backing up slightly. He could feel his anger rise with every impact, a need for assurance that the wretch was finally dead permeating his mind. She had to go. She overstepped. She needed to feel the pain she wrought tenfold. She was evil, and he could deal with penitentiary. He kept bashing, kept leaning his full body weight into the skull in the same manner one might use chest compressions. He rapidly smashed the head between the corners of the doorway, as fast as his arms could move, greedily reveling in the severe gashes spewing blood from either side of the woman¡¯s head. He jumped on her spine, knowing it was the most pain-ridden part of her, and drove a knee into every segment more than once. He smashed her head into the front door until it had a hole broken into it, then swapped back to bashing her skull mercilessly into the floor. Teeth clattered across the tile, her nose ripped in half with both sides loosely dangling by threads of skin, wildly flung about by the impacts before finally being ripped off. He cranked on her head until her neck snapped, forcing the eviscerated face against her chest. He then grabbed both sides of her corpse¡¯s torso and twisted them towards him, knee against the spine. A sickening, wet crack echoed through the three-story house, and he heard gagging and footsteps. Zachary panted, standing straight up as he looked to the approaching individual. He felt more rage burn within him as he saw the figure; a random person in his school who had decided to pick a fight in the hall. All Zachary had done was joke with his friend about a character from a book they were reading in English, which the individual decided was all making fun of him. The figure got into a cartoonish boxing stance, and Zachary felt his desire to walk away die as soon as he was hit in the face with a quick jab. His glasses fell, and his eyes went dead. He felt instinct take over, slapping the individual before taking another two hits with no reaction. He grabbed the kid¡¯s arm, and felt the minute amount of energy needed to swing him into the brick wall beside them. He felt the potential of violence, the much needed repercussions for this kid¡¯s audacity. He felt a deep vein of energy burst, flooding his body with power, desperately trying to make him destroy the offender¡¯s body and spirit. Zachary fought against the urge. He did not win. He swung the other boy into the wall with as much force as he could, producing a loud crack. He felt the vibrations from the impact go through him, but he didn¡¯t care. He grabbed the boy¡¯s face and began bashing them relentlessly into the wall, over and over again. He heard crunches and thunks, but didn¡¯t stop until the boy¡¯s head was visibly caved in. He then threw the boy to the ground, walking away in a huff. As he turned around, he found himself in his father¡¯s kitchen, sister screaming at him. With another string of words laced with expletives that Zachary didn¡¯t bother paying attention to, his sister slapped him across the face. That was the starter¡¯s pistol, and Zachary braced his right arm in front of himself, charging at her. The pair slammed into the wall, and while his sister tried to hit him, Zachary held her arms still at her sides. For all her boasting about beating him up, he always knew he was far stronger than her. He held her arms at her sides as she slid to the floor, and he felt the energy, the need, to start beating her senseless. Their father was in the shower, so he had a few seconds to cause real damage. To show her not to mess with him. He lifted a fist, and despite wanting to show her just how large the gap between them was, he paused. He struggled against that feeling, trying to force it back down more desperately than before. It didn¡¯t work. His fist jerked downwards, a loud snapping and crunching sound meeting his ears. As he raised his other fist to hit her again, he felt the entire ground shake beneath his feet - With a sudden jolt, Cog awoke once more in the odd vehicle - a Clanker, he remembered them calling it - with his head spinning from being bashed into the ceiling. ¡°Guess the speed bump woke him up,¡± Olga said, though any snark or amusement was gone from her face. ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± ¡°W-what..?¡± Cog said, shakily. ¡°Why is it..?¡± ¡°You were meeting something very local and very nasty, in a very personal way,¡± Noelle said, expression dark. ¡°What are you..?¡± Cog said, rubbing his eyes with his good arm. Xandir sent a glare at his two allies, then turned to the pech. ¡°We¡¯ll explain later,¡± Xandir said, pointing out the vehicle¡¯s window. ¡°We¡¯ve arrived.¡± ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The camp, which was deemed Site Teal by Xandir, wasn¡¯t what Cog thought it would be. Where he expected tents, full residences were set up; townhouse-esque buildings with walls made of the same kind of tree Cog first encountered in the woods and roofs made from some kind of odd, pale green metal - orichalcum, if it shared a material with the vehicle they''d been travelling in. The glass was all tinted like car windows, showing only silhouettes going about their daily lives. Due to a massive localized pond with a connecting river in the dead center of town, it didn¡¯t seem as though they had conventional running water. However, oddly familiar boxes in the windows of all the buildings made it appear as though they had some form of electricity - or, at the very least, functioning heaters and air conditioners. The houses, upon closer inspection, were all held together with thick metal rods made from the same material as the roof, and the doors - which seemed to be nothing but curtains - were revealed upon closer inspection to be curved sheet metal. Those were made from what appeared to be typical stainless steel, if a bit darker and more matte in coloration and texture. The site had to be at least five miles in diameter, and its perimeter was protected by several guards all sporting guns that looked like a hybrid between a desert eagle and an RPD; the muzzles were extensive and the magazine maintained a double drum design, but the body of the gun was roughly the shape of a deagle, though a few aspects of an RPD were carried over. Its appearance caused Cog to draw a comparison to the ridiculousness of a Prius with monster truck tires and the bed of a pickup truck. The metal was a deep crimson, changing to a royal purple when shifted at the right angle in the light. The guards themselves wore what appeared to be typical, all black bulletproof vests over civilian clothes. They also all wore badges made of the same green material as the roofs and supports on the houses, leading Cog to wonder what exactly the presumed ''Orichalcum'' metal was. The perimeter was not solely protected by manpower; instead, fences made of the same material as the doors were erected all the way around the outskirts, a half dozen gates built into them. At the point along the gravel road where it met the fence, a much larger gate stood, higher than the rest of the barricade. At least fifteen guards stood at the ready, and what appeared to be a standard toll booth sat adjacent to the road on either side of the exterior. As they approached the gate, Xandir rolled down his window with the hand crank, popping his head out. The man behind the booth looked up, nodded, quickly wrote something down, then gestured for Braune to continue on. The gates slowly swung open for the group, and Cog saw a perfectly circular gazebo to their left that had been blocked from view. It was made of a beautiful powder blue wood, its roof constructed from a gunmetal gray stone. Inside, a handful of individuals were talking, sipping drinks and laughing. There was also what appeared to be leather furniture of a pale red color, practically shining in the light that seeped into the open air within. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Cog asked, pointing to the gazebo with his good arm. ¡°Hm?¡± Noelle said, then glanced where Cog was pointing. ¡°Oh, that; it¡¯s a small commune place. It¡¯s a bit of an experimental structure we¡¯re trying to help raise morale on expeditions like this, and it¡¯s working out rather nicely. We never gave it an official name, but the members on this outing have started calling it ¡®Big Blue¡¯. It¡¯s a larger gazebo than any sane person would craft, but due to the hundred and fifty-three individuals on this mission, it needed to house a decent number of people. Of course, not everyone at once, since many have different sleep schedules, but still.¡± ¡°It is a rather nice place to sit and relax,¡± Olga said, nodding as if to confirm with herself. ¡°I¡¯ve had some rather¡­ unique experiences there, too.¡± ¡°Do not indulge that, Cog,¡± Noelle said, rolling her eyes. ¡°She uses it for practice on her raunchy performances.¡± ¡°I might indulge her a little,¡± Xandir said, and was promptly thwacked with another metal mug right between the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re the one person I don''t want to be indulgent,¡± Olga said, shaking her head. ¡°No kidding,¡± Xandir said, sighing as he lightly tossed the mug to Noelle. ¡°So where¡¯s the medical¡­¡± Cog said, trailing off as a building that was hidden behind the residences finally came into view. It had a massive symbol of a cross over a cartoon heart on the awning hanging over the entrance doors, which were made of the same metal as the doors of the houses. Its own windows were not tinted, though, and its walls were made of the same powder blue wood as the gazebo. Its ceiling was made of a new material altogether, though; It looked as if someone had taken a massive tube of silicone sealant and squeezed lines of it instead of making an actual roof. It was, oddly enough, a sharp, dandelion yellow in color. It took up almost as much space as one of the residential buildings, which were sizeable in their own right. ¡°I take it that¡¯s what you¡¯re after?¡± Olga said, smirking slightly. Cog nodded, looking over the construction in awe. ¡°Well,¡± Xandir said, stretching in his seat, ¡°Let¡¯s get you healed up, then! Oh, and Cog?¡± "Yeah?" Xandir leaned in close. "Don''t. Speak. A word. We don''t want accusations of an Arnik in there, and pech don''t speak." Cog swallowed hard, nodding. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Braune and Olga went to park the car in a nearby lot, which was simply well-packed gravel, Xandir and Noelle helped Cog into the building. The latter objected at first, but when his arm throbbed with a new wave of pain, he clenched his teeth and let them lead him by his good arm. The three entered the medical building as quickly as they could manage. At the forefront of the entry room, a pair of desks sat, made of the same metal as the guards¡¯ weapons. A clear walkway, no less than ten feet wide, stretched on in between them. The floor itself was made of tile that looked similar to marble from Earth, though upon closer inspection, its texture was far closer to a glazed pot than a marble slab. The room itself spanned extensively, five rows of standard cushioned chairs lining either side of the room like a runway. At least two dozen individuals sat within them, reading through books or, oddly enough, scrolls. The variety of people was vast; some appeared to be normal humans, no different than the ones Cog knew from his home realm. Some appeared to be other members of Braune¡¯s, Olga¡¯s and Noelle¡¯s species, and even a couple that seemed as though they could be related to Xandir, with their void-like skin and obnoxiously 80¡¯s fashion choices. Other species waited, as well; one variety seemed to be humans who had two to three sets of arms and olive skin, sporting no hair yet having definitively masculine or feminine bodies. What seemed like flabs of fat were stretched between their two arms, reminding Cog of a flying squirrel¡¯s patagium. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Another species that was prominent appeared to not have skin, at least at first glance. When looked at closer, their skin was the same shade as blood and muscle, and their bodies were all lean and compact. None of them looked to be taller than five feet, and Cog gasped quietly when one of them glanced at him. Their eyes were pink, akin to those of an albino human. The sclera, however, were pitch black, and their pupils were pure white. He immediately broke eye contact, doing his damnedest to play the role of wild animal, looking about in a panic. The final species Cog saw in the waiting room was the only one of his kind; his head was that of a man¡¯s, except his ears and hair were non-existent. His build was similar to the lean blood-colored people, yet he had six arms and a flawless tan complexion. One pair of the arms appeared to be vestigial, while the others were normally proportioned for a human man. His height was at least nine and a half feet, and he barely fit into a single chair, long legs awkwardly bent to at least attempt a proper sitting position. His calm eyes were a vibrant, etheric fluctuation of colors, like the light hitting oil in a parking lot just right. When they laid upon Xandir, he gave him a small, polite nod. ¡°There are¡­ So many different species¡­¡± Cog muttered, awe temporarily dulling the searing pain. Xandir nodded, subtly putting a finger to his lips. ¡°Chroma being introduced into the world made them like that. It¡¯s how our bodies could have absorbed those constructs and turned them into proper parts of our cells.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll have to tell me about all of them. This is just¡­¡± Cog muttered. ¡°Incredible?¡± Noelle asked, smiling. ¡°Yeah. Putting it-.¡± Cog began, at a slightly louder volume. Suddenly, Xandir and Noelle stopped helping him along and he almost fell over. Xandir knelt down next to him conspicuously, feigning a quick physical check after the sudden stumble. A handful of individuals scanned the room confusedly before gradually returning to their various activities. Xandir''s eyes honed in on Cog with a razor''s edge as he spoke through the side of his mouth. ¡°No talking, Cog. Remember that. If you absolutely must narrate your experiences, nothing above a delicate whisper from here on out. We¡¯ve got codes for this sort of thing.¡± Cog pursed his lips, but remained silent. He let his eyes wander wildly, sometimes allowing the pain to take partial control of him to sell the story he assumed Xandir wanted to tell. When they reached the counter, the receptionist looked up. ¡°Welcome to Teal Emergency Restoration! How can I help you?¡± The woman, who was seemingly a heavy-set human, asked. Her dark pink hair and tan skin were accented with a sort of dark magenta makeup that was nearly black. ¡°We¡¯d like to request healing for a magical creature we found. A pech. Code Vermillion.¡± Xandir said. The nurse nodded, poking at something on the desk that Cog couldn¡¯t see; the desk obscured it, thanks to his short stature. ¡°Is it local?¡± ¡°It lies within the definition of ¡®Local¡¯ for the purposes of this service.¡± Xandir said, gesturing behind them and at a small angle. ¡°About fourteen miles out that way.¡± After some more prodding at the thing on her desk, the nurse looked up again. ¡°Mission type and authorization?¡± She asked, and Xandir pulled what looked like a small, metallic credit card from his pocket, passing it to the nurse. More of that orichalcum, if the fluorescent lights weren''t deceiving Cog''s eyes. She looked it over, swiped it on her desk, and a gentle chime resounded. She nodded again, passing the card back before more poking. ¡°Ah, so you were on an investigative search.¡± She said. ¡°Yes. We were looking for the source of a chromal flare.¡± Xandir said, and the nurse gave him a thumbs up. ¡°Well, everything checks out! You can have a seat over there,¡± she said, pointing to a trio of open chairs near the front. ¡°Your name will be called when we¡¯re ready to bring you up. For now, here''s a bit of cloth wrap and gauze to hold that arm together. A bit of rubbing alcohol to clean it, too.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Xandir said, guiding Noelle and Cog to the indicated seats before passing her the medical supplies. ¡°Where are you going now?¡± Noelle asked, one brow raised and mirth dancing in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m finding the vending machine,¡± Xandir said, starting to walk in another direction. ¡°The one that keeps taking your money?¡± ¡°Yes, that one. I¡¯m gonna get that damned bar if it¡¯s the last thing I do.¡± Noelle just sighed. "You go get it, Xandir." He nodded and jogged off excitedly. "That doctor can''t get to you soon enough." Noelle muttered, peeling a fresh strip of cloth from the fabric roll. Doubt still hovered over his head regarding his current companions With the pain thrumming in his shoulder ever more viciously and teeth grit against the inevitable flare of pain, Cog couldn''t agree more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ¡°I apologize again for the wait.¡± The doctor said. She was an elderly woman, appearing to be in her late seventies by Cog¡¯s own guess, but moved about with a spring in her step that he¡¯d never thought someone so old could have. Despite the interesting behavior, he did his best to act like a dazed wild animal; quiet, looking around everywhere, and occasionally scratching himself. ¡°We''re in the midst of our daily physicals.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s quite alright.¡± Noelle said, nodding politely. ¡°Xandir has informed us of the increasing severity in danger, what with all of the new events. Xandir''s been quite... intense in regards to preparation, but I imagine you''d know all about that.¡± The doctor let out a long, cacophonous cackle as she leaned back in her chair, nodding. ¡°Regardless,¡± Noelle continued, ¡°We¡¯d really appreciate your expertise in healing our little friend¡¯s injury. He got it in a fight with what seemed to be a fialtog.¡± ¡°Really now?¡± the doctor said, eyebrows raising slightly. ¡°Why is there hesitance in regards to what the creature was?¡± ¡°Well, as it turns out, the corpse was charred. It had a few of the defining features of a fialtog, but it was so blackened and ashen that we can¡¯t be sure without looting it.¡± ¡°I take it there was an issue with looting it, then?¡± ¡°Indeed; it was already claimed by another.¡± Noelle reached in her bag, pulling out a notebook. She flipped through a few pages before passing it to the elderly woman. ¡°We¡¯ve discovered a handful of intriguing things over by the Sioramoeba event. Insanely high Chroma levels, that pre-looted corpse, a sunshower with severe lightning. We also found this guy, who we want to get healed up and sent back to his habitat - once all of this is dealt with, of course.¡± The doctor nodded in understanding before inspecting Cog¡¯s arm. He flinched; partially in exaggeration to sell his ¡®feral¡¯ role, and partially because it genuinely stung like a slap from a pro bodybuilder. She nodded to herself before taking a deep, long breath and gently holding Cog¡¯s arm. He flinched again, when all of a sudden, the pain just... stopped. The relief he didn¡¯t realize he could feel made him practically melt in his chair, before he remembered what he was trying to pull off and simply relaxed instead. Keeping his eyes wide with the sudden wave of relieved fatigue was difficult, but fortunately, not impossible. Glancing down at the dangling arm, he saw the old woman¡¯s hands glowing with a pastel yellow light, pulses of energy waving through the rays of what he assumed was healing magic. It looked like her hand was a speaker at the center of a luminous pond, the ripples only growing faster and more numerous. Once all of the pain was gone, she slowly realigned the useless appendage, which felt no worse than his arm falling asleep, though the pain did also resemble a very mildly bruised bone. The regaining of feeling in it was a shock, though, and Cog watched in awe as the skin and tendons knitted themselves back together. The waves encircled his arm¡¯s connection, adhering everything together almost like a glue before it suddenly released a pulse of light. All at once, the new, odd feelings in his arm were gone, just as quickly as the pain left. It was simply his arm again. He tried to determine how an animal would act, but couldn¡¯t think of anything; instead of changing up the narrative, he decided to do what he was doing anyways - stare in awe at the adhesive light that reattached his arm. ¡°You¡¯ll want to make sure he doesn¡¯t use that arm for much throughout the next four to six hours,¡± the doctor said, smiling. ¡°It¡¯s fixing and realigning all of the interior functionality, and interrupting it now to too much of a degree will interrupt and hinder that process. If he gets rowdy, you should be safe to give him some pain medicine you might take. If you have none, you know where the pharmacy is.¡± ¡°I do, indeed.¡± Noelle said, returning the smile. ¡°Thank you very much, Dr. Colt.¡± ¡°Oh, not a problem. Happy to help!¡± Colt said. ¡°Again, four to six hours before you release him into the wilderness. If you need anything else, you¡¯re always welcome here, my friend!¡± Noelle gave a thumbs up and, after a proper send-off, she guided Cog out of the hospital building. When they were out of eyesight and earshot of anyone who could snoop on them, Cog spoke quietly. ¡°So her name is Colt, and her healing powers resemble glue?¡± Cog asked, face blanched. ¡°Yeah. What about it?¡± Noelle said, looking around for their vehicle. After a moment, it turned a corner from the lot, and she waved at it. Cog blinked. ¡°Do you have horses here?¡± He asked. She nodded. ¡°Isn¡¯t that kinda fucked?¡± Cog said, and Noelle smirked. ¡°Yep.¡± She said. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ¡°Okay, I have several questions.¡± Cog said, sliding into the coach while carefully working his refreshed limb. Before he was able to say anything else, he was stopped by Braune with a hand held, who had traded places with Olga in the driver¡¯s seat. ¡°First, let me give you these before I forget.¡± Braune said, handing Cog what looked to be an unlabeled pill calendar. Inside were perfectly spherical pieces of something that seemed to have both a matte and mousse-like texture. Each one, going down the six slots, matched up with the corresponding colors of a rainbow. ¡°What are these?¡± Cog asked. ¡°That''s how you get magic," Braune said. "Hold onto those for now. We¡¯ll teach you the breathing technique to take in Chroma and dissolve them once we get back to the office. For now, we can try to answer your questions. The ones you already asked, that is. That¡¯ll be plenty for now.¡± "If we''re limiting questions, then I''m going to need one answered right away," Cog said, looking to Noelle. "What the hell was that ''local nastiness'' you were talking about before?" Noelle looked as though she wanted to say something immediately, before a look of self-imposed conflict overtook her face. The following silence was interrupted by the vehicle revving and jerking into motion. "Ah. The local nastiness," she said, glancing at Braune and Xandir with a pleading look. It took the two men a moment to realize what she was attempting to convey. "The nastiness is, erm..." Braune said, scratching the back of his head. "It''s not for the faint of heart..." Xandir said, arms crossed and eyes averting Cog''s gaze. "They''re... the root of a lot of zealots. And fanatics," Noelle added. "It really sounds like you lot are talking about a mad god or something ridiculous like that," Cog said. His mood and gut sank in unison as he had a sudden realization. "Gods are real here, aren''t they..?" The other three sitting near him nodded slowly. "Now, I''m no genius," Cog said, "but does that mean a god messed with my brain while I slept?" "Most likely." Xandir said, eyes slowly trading in their usual curiosity for a growing, grim acceptance. "Why would they do that!?" Cog said, throwing up his hands. "I''m new to this world - is that it? Do they want me to go home? I''d love that, to wake up from these six-mouthed pumas and three foot tall metal sponge-haired scrawny pukes." He emphasized the last few words by gesturing at himself. "Or is it that they fuck with everyone and realized I personally never got a turn?" "I don''t know for sure, but that isn''t it. Probably," Braune said. "The gods may not be benevolent, but they aren''t that bad. Some are borderline nice, but only three or four are genuinely, a hundred percent ''good''. It''s kind of their nature." "Which is?" Cog asked. Immediately, Noelle and Braune turned to face Xandir, who sighed. "We''ve been over this," he said. "Gods are just concepts manifested into living organisms via intense chromal density and a heavy concentration of stem cells in a creature caught within the cloud that''s created when-" Xandir stopped, noting his teammates'' expressions. Noelle was patiently watching with a slightly glazed look in her eyes, while Braune absently gnawed off a hangnail. When he saw Cog slightly swaying in place, eyes practically blinking individually, he sighed again. "When a lot of chroma is in one place with a lot of the same kind of adaptable cell, it creates a new kind of lifeform. The chroma they''re comprised of somehow determines what concept they''re tagged with, which is what they act in accordance with." "So if a bunch of fire and water chroma would clump together in one small space where some poor animal is healing, it would make a living creature that''s... what, bipolar?" "Not bipolar," Xandir said, "and that combination wouldn''t work, anyways. No entity can hold opposite types of Chroma. It would be too volatile." "Then what about... I dunno, fire and earth?" Cog asked. "That would be Faith," Xandir said. "Faith?" "Yes, Faith. It''s an odd result, until you really think about it. Fire implies passion and earth implies consistency and solidity. Your faith is a testament of both of those, hence Faith." "So the gods are also named after their own concepts?" "Pretty much," Noelle said. "And why are you guys more willing to talk about gods in regards to Faith? You were just tight-lipped," Cog said. There was a shared, nervous glance. "Some gods aren''t worth mentioning, lest you suffer their ire for daring to even speak their names aloud." "Ah, great. So, what, is it a Voldemort situation too? Saying their name gives them power? If I say their name three times in a mirror, will some magic entity reach through the reflection and choke-slam me?" "What''s a Voldemort?" Xandir asked. "Doesn''t matter," Cog said. "Just an idea from my world, about as ridiculous as all this." "This is a serious issue," Braune said. "Gods can sense whenever their concept is invoked in any way, and uttering their name is kind of like forcing yourself - even for a second - into that concept''s invocation. Like saying steak and tasting steak on your tongue, but more... vague." "And if you live your life in a way that invokes one concept far more than others," Noelle said, "then that god could bestow a blessing upon you." "What''s a blessing in this context?" Cog asked. "That depends," Xandir said. "Sometimes it can be simple words of wisdom that you needed to hear. Sometimes, it could be insights you''ve been missing or even locations you should go to. It''s rather easy for them to communicate through their followers." "In the more extreme cases, they could go as far as crafting a skill or ability for you," Braune said. "This could go beyond the scope of concepts you''re usually stuck to when crafting abilities. You''ll know what I mean once you get your magic." "In the most intense of cases, they can go as far as granting you a transformation, overall permanent stat boost, or even granting you a racial trait mutation or two. Physical mutations aren''t out of the question, either." "So stay on the good side of the gods and try to keep my mind either as chaotic or as mellow as possible. Balance everything out?" Cog said, and everyone else nodded. "Well, what can you tell me about it?" Cog asked. "The god that flicked me in the synapses, I mean." "Nothing, until you''ve gotten to a better mental state than one would be in when de-limbed and forced to act like an animal or risk death," Xandir said. "Don''t want any of the gods taking that opportunity." "And about my other questions?" Cog asked. "I''d love to know more about all-powerful entities, but I''m right about to either crash or get my fifteenth adrenaline rush in a row. If I can''t learn about the god that fucked with me, what about what I actually am? You tried to explain it a bit before, but that didn''t answer my questions - it just gave me more. On top of that, why did a hospital made for people take me in, especially like this? I''d like to think I''ve earned a few answers at this point." ¡°You are a pech,¡± Noelle said, ¡°which means you¡¯re a humanoid. The recovery stations can heal any humanoid that needs it, and pech are a bit of a rare thing. If we see one in an ecosystem, our job is to make sure it¡¯s okay. Same goes for any other humanoid beasties we might come across that support an ecology entirely - or even partially - on their own. We even have veterinary clinics for the more animalistic creatures. As for what exactly you are? The pech are very rare and small in number, and nobody can keep them properly contained or observed for long enough to properly research them.¡± "You could join the Exploration Gentry and let them observe how your body works - give both them and yourself a better idea of what you''re working with," Xandir added. "And they won''t burn me at a stake for being an arnik?" Cog asked. "Not at all," Noelle said. "The worst they''d do is keep you at their dormitories for a few days so they can ensure you''re stable before helping you get to that training annex we mentioned." All at once, the anxiety Cog had felt was abruptly and massively reduced, only a mere fraction of the weight on his shoulders. Having guaranteed protection for at least a little while meant he''d have time to think, which also meant he''d have time to plan his next moves. He might even be able to get some resources. Cog also noted it was significantly harder to focus on the others in the car - his eyelids felt like lead shutters. Xandir noted Cog¡¯s struggling squint and smiled. ¡°Actually, how about we all take a nap now?¡± he suggested, Noelle and Braune nodding in enthusiastic agreement. As they all got comfortable, Cog almost immediately fell into a deep sleep. ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll want to sign up for the Exploration Gentry, if not the PMIs?¡± Noelle asked after a brief pause. Xandir tilted his head, lost in thought. After a few moments, he spoke. ¡°I think he¡¯s more likely to choose that than to go back to a cavern in the middle of the wilderness, especially if he is what we think he is. It''s not easy going from civilization to instincts and hunting-gathering.¡± ¡°I agree.¡± Noelle said. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure if he¡¯ll want that, though; the Gentry may not even accept him, if we bring him to the wrong advisor or outpost. After all, Arniks are usually sentient species and not wild, magical animals. We don¡¯t even know if the drop suite will work on him, seeing as he may have too much magic in his body as it is.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m positive those¡¯ll take.¡± Xandir said, smiling at the suspicious look from Noelle. ¡°Think we should inform him of the Contingent and the Tribunal? He might want to join one of those.¡± ¡°I think we should get him his magic powers first and foremost, assuming you¡¯re right about his potential in those regards.¡± Noelle replied, glancing back at the pech. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯ll be able to make it, if he wants it enough. After all, that¡¯s how we¡¯re all here. Besides, introducing him to every political, militial and governmental force on the planet doesn''t seem like a great way to start a transition to a new life.¡± ¡°True enough.¡± Braune said, giving Xandir a pointed look. He chuckled softly at the shadow man''s sarcastically offended posture. ¡°Let¡¯s all just get some rest now. We¡¯ll have all the theorizing and magic mumbo jumbo we can handle when we get back. Right now, I think we all need a good mental reset.¡± Xandir said, then leaned back in his seat. Noelle and Braune nodded, slowly easing themselves into a state of calm as the gentle rhythm of bumps and the rev of the engine lulled them into a state of tired relaxation. Chapter 6 ~ Potential The offices of the Exploration Gentry - the faction who Braune, Olga, Noelle and Xandir worked under - were widespread across the populated portions of the world. Reaching a branch from practically anywhere that wasn¡¯t the middle of nowhere was a matter of hours, if not minutes; they had to be stationed near populous areas, due to their function in ?thounian society. While their core tenant was to ensure that ¡®Everywhere is Seen¡¯, their secondary purpose was to keep people safe from monster attacks. The sparse population of most of the planet meant that small towns and villages had little to no solid protection of their own, nor did anyone have a true military force. Most everyone on the planet had access to some form of magic or self-defense, and those who pursued a life of adventure would oftentimes trade off expeditions and time at home with one another for an extra layer of security protecting their families. Despite this, most individuals didn¡¯t bother helping other cities or villages unless directly under the Exploration Gentry, so having the relatively nearby offices to all residences was a crucial part of civilian care. While help was only ever a couple of hours away, it was still a couple of hours to survive without aid; this meant that there was a solid chance of an emergency going very, very wrong unless a proper Chroma user with some form of mobility magic could deliver the alert and return. Even then, they could not always arrive in time to save many of those involved, if anyone at all. To remedy this, the Exploration Gentry had developed a significantly advanced method of translocation; an all-terrain vehicle called a Clanker. Most individuals and teams going out on an expedition took one along, providing a secure method of transport that was faster than most people could move, save for Chroma users with movement abilities. This allowed a whole team to travel at speed, letting their Mobility specialist act as either a scout or some much-needed, long distance communication. Communicators only had a set range that couldn¡¯t be amplified without the proper Chroma abilities, and even then, the bolstering did little. Despite this, they were often vastly more popular than simply walking, considering many enjoyed the fresh air and leisurely ride that existed in tandem with the vehicles. It was this reasoning that had led Xandir to agree with his teammates on choosing a Clanker over walking to the nearby garage, which was a decision he reinforced in his mind thanks to the fact that none of them had proper movement powers to chase their target, should it come down to that. Braune, being the only exception, wasn¡¯t the most observant or careful individual; if not approached tenaciously, their target could easily flee, kill or destroy its surroundings out of a base instinct to lash out. The magical manifestation they had been sent to investigate had been a Sioramoeba, which was known for its lurching speed and unpredictable movement. Catching up to it in a timely manner would be critical; if it got too far, backup would never reach the team in time should the target decide to become hostile. Unfortunately, not a single one had been within a two-mile radius of the cave where they had found Cog, and they were forced to fill out the report as incomplete. It was this failure that gnawed at Olga as she gently pulled her napping team into the Exploration Gentry parking lot. She glanced behind her as she put the Clanker into park, passenger seats visible through a small pair of tempered glass panes. Her eyes rested on Cog for a moment longer than she had wanted, tearing them away to ensure the rest of her team was safe. After she confirmed her allies were accounted for, her eyes drifted back to Cog. He was an enigma, to be certain; she¡¯d never known an Arnik, nor seen one that hadn¡¯t been strung up and beaten by religious zealots before they could live a proper life. While she herself shared in the extremist¡¯s views to a small degree - admitting that overtaking another¡¯s body for your own survival was certainly not okay - she also knew that the Arnik had no control over it, oftentimes hearing reports of them attempting to return the bodies they took over to their proper owners. All of the attempts had failed horribly, taking the life of both souls within the body. The fact that this individual, Cog, could possess a pech provided many disconcerting truths that she¡¯d have to acknowledge sooner or later; chief among them being pech having souls. An Arnik would never be able to possess a body that held no soul, due to the soul needing to ensure its new body would be capable of holding one. It was a vastly complex subconscious and spiritual instinct, but it was an instinct nonetheless. The uncomfortable thought that the scores upon scores of goblinoids and monstrous humanoids she had slaughtered could very well have held souls of their own shook her slightly. Something else about the newcomer confused her, however; his soul was definitely stronger than a pech¡¯s, seeing as he held a high level of both intellect and potential. It was a telltale sign for souls that could sport Chromal power to its utmost potency, and yet his soul had taken over the body of a small magical creature that, to her knowledge, held no methods to normally absorb Chroma. Olga glanced at the drop suite in trepidation, resting in Cog¡¯s relaxed hand. If he couldn¡¯t properly channel Chroma, it would be a massive problem. Not only would his day to day life be significantly more dangerous, but his acceptance into society could be non-existent if he couldn¡¯t contribute. Absently, she concluded that he had to have come from a world without magic, if from another world at all; his soul should have had the instincts needed to select a typical sentient species¡¯ body, but instead chose something not dissimilar to a chimpanzee. She absently scratched the bridge of her nose, wondering if pech and chimpanzees were related, before shaking her head and finally parking the Clanker. ¡°Well,¡± She muttered, ¡°Let¡¯s get this show on the road.¡± She slammed her open palm on the horn, and a handful of screams and thuds resonated from the back seat. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ¡°No, no, no! Cog, it¡¯s 8-11-3, not 3-11-8!¡± Braune said in exasperation, throwing his arms in the air. ¡°It¡¯s like you¡¯re purposely making mistakes!¡± ¡°Hey, I¡¯m sorry!¡± Cog said, voice a bit snippy. ¡°The breathing exercises I know are structured differently! Besides, constantly huffing whatever liquids you¡¯re shoving into that Clanker doesn¡¯t help my concentration.¡± The team plus Cog had made their way into the garage of the nearby Exploration Gentry office, almost always empty of people and full of tools. There were at least a dozen more Clankers inside, and a series of red-violet workbenches lined the walls where cupboards and counters didn¡¯t take up the space. The smell of burning oil and rubber made Cog crinkle his nose, but at least the scent of diesel was familiar enough. According to Xandir, the vehicles ran off of a very similar fuel to diesel, and Cog was immediately invested in the further parallels he had serendipitously found. It was here that the squad wanted Cog to learn the proper breathing techniques, allowing Braune to initiate the training. This had proven to be a mistake. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you using your diaphragm!?¡± Braune bellowed, knees bent and hands out in a palms-down position, thumbs right between his middle and ring fingers on both. He flung them out and pulled them in with a certain tenuous fluidity. ¡°My diaphragm?¡± Cog asked, eyes wide with angry confusion. ¡°Since when was I supposed to use my diaphragm!?¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Noelle yelled, putting a hand up to each person. Braune rolled his eyes, huffing. ¡°Noelle, he needs to-¡± ¡°Oooh, don¡¯t you dare start with me.¡± Noelle said, flashing him a dangerous glare. ¡°I have been watching you every step of the way. You half-explain this stuff and expect him to understand it all with gaps filled in by his own knowledge.¡± ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that?¡± Braune asked, genuinely confused. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have that knowledge.¡± Noelle hissed, running a hand down her perturbed face. Braune, for his part, blanched in realization before turning back to Cog, who looked shellshocked at the outburst. ¡°I, uh¡­¡± Braune started, but Cog held up a hand. ¡°I get it, man.¡± Cog said. ¡°I get ahead of myself too. Way more than I should, really; I¡¯ve confused a lot of people I didn¡¯t want to. Maybe we can start from the top, one last time for the day?¡± Braune nodded. Both of them took a cleansing, deep breath, then began the lesson anew. ¡°That¡¯s the fourth time they¡¯re restarting.¡± Olga said, walking over with an oily rag. Once she was done using it to wipe off her hands, she tossed it over her shoulder. ¡°Yep.¡± Noelle nodded, tilting her head. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen someone focused like him in a long time. He¡¯s got tons of patience, and I¡¯d love to know what techniques he uses to maintain it.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t think he uses techniques like that.¡± Xandir said, drawing looks from Noelle and Olga. ¡°That¡¯s the only sensible way he could do that.¡± Olga said, Noelle nodding her head in agreement. ¡°You forget; he comes from another reality. If his doesn¡¯t possess magic, why would it hold techniques for being patient?¡± Xandir said. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make logical sense to me.¡± ¡°You do realize that magic is not the only reason people learn techniques for patience, right?¡± Noelle said, giving Xandir a flat look. He rolled his eyes in response. ¡°I suppose it is just a gut feeling,¡± he said. ¡°Something about him appears¡­ attentive, I suppose? Perhaps a bit eager? He seems to actually want to learn, as if he refuses anything that might stop him. If nothing else, it does not seem like a technique to me.¡± ¡°I¡­ can actually see that, yeah.¡± Olga said, blinking. ¡°For once, Xandir, you¡¯re making some semblance of sense.¡± ¡°Olga and Xandir agreeing, with the former not talking nonsense? Now all that needs to happen is to see an internal revenue office shut down for fraud, and we¡¯ve got the triage of impossibilities.¡± Noelle joked, and Xandir gave her a jovial glance. ¡°Careful. That could become a national emergency.¡± The pair laughed and bantered as Olga maintained her gaze on Cog, who was still struggling to get the proper timing down on his breathing. She tuned out the others as she allowed her full focus to lock onto the pech, whose face was flushed due to a lack of oxygen. Still, he kept trying to learn the breathing exercise, and Olga couldn¡¯t help but smile to herself. She thought back to when she was a kid, trying her hardest to get the breathing just right. Most ?thounian people had an instinctual, general understanding of the breathing techniques required in the manipulation of Chroma, though the Xytos were the leading cause of it. Someone not used to having them, like Cog, would be at an inherent disadvantage. Olga then recalled how she would often threaten her parents with holding her breath if she didn¡¯t get what she wanted, which inadvertently aided her in her role on the team as frontline attacker. All of the practice holding large quantities of gasses in her lungs and diaphragm actually better prepared her body¡¯s ability to expand Chroma capacity and regeneration, which let her charge up powerful attacks far faster than anyone else at her threshold. She silently pondered giving the anecdote to Cog, or possibly incorporating it into his training, but she put the thought aside temporarily. Her smile went to a broad grin as Cog finally got the proper timing down, and Braune cheered him on excitedly. ¡°That¡¯s it!¡± Braune exclaimed. ¡°You need to take deeper breaths, but that¡¯s it!¡± ¡°Glad¡­ To be¡­ Adequate.¡± Cog panted, out of breath. ¡°I think? Was that¡­ Adequate..?¡± ¡°Yes, it was for now. I-¡± Braune began before lunging forward, catching Cog¡¯s unconscious body quickly. The three observers all smirked at once, remembering their own training debacles. ¡°How long do you think he¡¯ll be out for?¡± Olga asked. ¡°My vote¡¯s on around three minutes,¡± Noelle said. ¡°I¡¯m right next to him, and he seems out for the count,¡± Braune said. ¡°I¡¯m saying ten to fifteen minutes, minimum.¡± The three looked to Xandir, whose eyes betrayed a grin. ¡°Seventy seconds.¡± He said, and the others erupted into complainants and groans. ¡°Calm down, all,¡± he said. ¡°It isn''t as if my estimates ever turn out.¡± ¡°Yeah, but you actually know more about this guy¡¯s situation.¡± Braune grumbled, jabbing a thumb towards Cog. ¡°You probably know something we don¡¯t - some crap about Arniks not needing so much time to get back up or something.¡± ¡°Actually, yes.¡± Another chorus of perturbed noises rose in reply, and Xandir smiled. ¡°The reason is actually interesting," he explained, "and it''s because of the two souls in the body-" ¡°We don¡¯t actually care, Xandir,¡± Olga complained. ¡°You took the fun out of this. I didn¡¯t even get to start the bets.¡± ¡°Which is beneficial, because..?¡± Xandir replied, gesturing with his hands to urge Olga on. She rolled her eyes, replying in a voice akin to a chastised teenager. ¡°Because bets are wrong, especially over the health of others.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± Noelle said, getting a flat look from Xandir. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°What?¡± She asked. ¡°Really? Agreeing with me now? And you, of all people, on this particular topic?¡± Xandir said. ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s the right thing to do, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point. I can quite literally see the handful of blues you were prepared to slide into Olga¡¯s hand.¡± A flash of movement and what sounded like the clattering of spilled marbles reverberated through the extensive garage. ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about.¡± Noelle said. Xandir shook his head disapprovingly. ¡°Either way, Cog should awaken within a couple of seconds. Braune?¡± He said, and Braune reached into the air in front of him, pulling out a large flask and small loaf of bread from seemingly nowhere. ¡°Three¡­ Two¡­ One¡­¡± Xandir muttered, then pointed a finger at Cog. When nothing happened, his shoulders slumped slightly. ¡°That¡¯s odd. I could have sworn-¡± He was interrupted as Cog sat bolt upright, gasping in air. ¡°Ah, there it is.¡± Braune wasted no time, helping Cog support himself. The large man pushed the bread and flask into Cog¡¯s hands gently. ¡°Go ahead and eat up. You must be hungry, right?¡± Cog nodded, ravenously tearing into the bread. When he had nothing but a small handful left of the loaf, flask still untouched, he looked up at Braune with a combination of confusion and slight irritation. ¡°Wait. Why didn¡¯t you give me the food first?¡± Cog asked. ¡°Simple,¡± Braune said. ¡°A lot of people pass out when they first try the breathing technique, and some people vomit immediately after. If you¡¯d have thrown up, it was very likely you could¡¯ve started to drown in it. At least with us giving these to you after the first time you try the 8-11-3 method, your stomach is empty. You shouldn¡¯t pass out again, and if you do, you¡¯re less likely to have such a violent reaction.¡± ¡°You have no idea just how empty my stomach was,¡± Cog said with distaste, before hearing clattering behind him. He and Braune both turned to see Noelle struggling to reach underneath a Clanker, her retracted hand holding a few blue drops. ¡°You, uh¡­ You good there?¡± Cog asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Noelle said, half-yelling from beneath the vehicle. Her arm rose from under the front end, waving dismissively. ¡°Someone left a bunch of blue drops laying around, so I figured I might as well scoop them all up. A few rolled under here, that¡¯s all.¡± Cog shrugged, turning to Xandir and Olga. ¡°I assume someone tried to make a bet?¡± He asked, gesturing to Noelle with his head. ¡°No!¡± Noelle called out. ¡°Yep,¡± Olga and Xandir both responded simultaneously. ¡°You got no proof!¡± Noelle said. ¡°Funny how someone left a bunch of blue drops laying around in a very public garage when every single person has an inventory,¡± Olga said. There was a moment of silence. ¡°I¡¯m... lucky..?¡± Noelle said, unconvincingly. Xandir rolled his eyes with a smile as Olga chuckled softly. ¡°Well,¡± Xandir said to Cog, ¡°Now that you''ve had a taste of the most basic of skills you¡¯ll be required to master to unlock Chroma, do you believe your body is prepared for the strain?¡± ¡°No.¡± Cog said. ¡°But that¡¯s never stopped me before. It was 8-11-3, right Braune?¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°Yep.¡± Braune said. ¡°You sure you wanna keep going? We can take it slow; we¡¯ve got the time here. It¡¯s so early that nobody else will be arriving for hours yet.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡± Cog said, then began the breathing exercise once more. As he completed one full cycle of breathing, Xandir raised an eyebrow. After the seventh consecutive attempt, Xandir leaned towards Olga. ¡°Is it just me, or is he timing his inhalations flawlessly in every single attempt?¡± He whispered. "It only started three attempts ago, but..." ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s just you,¡± she muttered. ¡°It¡¯s not perfect, but such consistency after being knocked out should have taken a lot longer. He¡¯s nowhere near a prodigy, but I¡¯d be curious to know how he¡¯s so clear-minded right now.¡± ¡°You and me both.¡± Xandir muttered, glancing back at Noelle. She had paused her collecting to glance at Cog for a couple of cycles, then made eye contact with Xandir. They shared a silent conversation, both acknowledging Cog¡¯s progress. After another few cycles, Cog¡¯s pattern shifted. He took a normal deep breath, then muttered something unintelligible for a long moment. Then, he took another deep breath. It was perfectly timed, as was his breath being held, then expelled. The four onlookers shared a series of glances. ¡°That was... good.¡± Xandir said, a bit louder. ¡°Rather good, in fact. How did you do it, if you don¡¯t mind my asking?¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Cog said, turning slightly bashful. ¡°Well, I kind of cheated using the system.¡± ¡°And how¡¯d you manage that?¡± Noelle asked, finally standing back up. ¡°I used the timer function,¡± he said, noticing everyone¡¯s exchanged looks. ¡°Did I do something wrong..?¡± ¡°Quite the opposite.¡± Xandir said, scratching the back of his neck. ¡°That¡¯s how we advise people who are struggling to approach it. People don¡¯t usually think to do that on their own. It¡¯s not bad, just¡­ pleasantly unusual.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Cog said, half smiling. ¡°I figure I¡¯ll use the timer until I feel a natural rhythm form. After that, I¡¯ll try doing it without the timer until it becomes second nature.¡± ¡°Okay, for real.¡± Braune said, rubbing his temples. ¡°You¡¯re not from this world, right? At all? And you''re not some century-old guru of breathing or something wild like that?¡± ¡°Not unless this place is Earth.¡± Cog said, chuckling nervously. ¡°It¡¯s definitely not.¡± Olga muttered. ¡°Then yes, I am most definitely not from here.¡± Cog said. "Also, I''m only twenty-three, so not a guru." ¡°I ask because you¡¯re really good at the whole system situation.¡± Braune said. ¡°Your consistency is also impressive - I assume that¡¯s from the timer, as well?¡± ¡°No..?¡± Cog said, slightly confused. ¡°It was just barely off each time, which is why I actually started using the timer.¡± Once more, the four native ?thounians shared glances with one another. ¡°That¡¯s¡­ unusual.¡± Noelle said. ¡°Normally, people can¡¯t tell if they¡¯re off or not. Is it a racial trait?¡± ¡°Not as far as I know? I haven¡¯t really read through any of mine.¡± Cog replied uncertainly. ¡°I¡¯m able to do a similar thing back home¡­ I was able to, at least. No clue if I can go back. Regardless, I digress; I¡¯ve always been good with timing my own actions, and with the lack of fog in my brain, it¡¯s so much easier!¡± ¡°Fog?¡± Xandir asked, and Cog nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a sort of unfocusing of the mind, y¡¯know? Can¡¯t think straight?¡± ¡°That¡¯s something magical creatures and Chroma users can¡¯t physically experience; at least, not without a serious concussion.¡± Olga said. ¡°It¡¯s been at least a decade for all of us since we felt like that.¡± ¡°Lucky!¡± Cog said with a mock whine and a slightly upbeat tone. ¡°For me, it¡¯s probably only been twenty-four hours, if that.¡± ¡°It is a massive relief.¡± Braune said. ¡°I remember having a lot of issues with that. Turns out, blood flow to my brain was partially blocked. The normal doctor I go to realized the change only after my body upgraded itself past the Red threshold.¡± ¡°That¡­ doesn¡¯t sound good.¡± Cog said, flinching slightly. ¡°You doing better now?¡± ¡°I am, thank you for asking!¡± Braune said boisterously. ¡°I¡¯ve been taking far better care of myself since back then, though I can¡¯t fully claim all the credit for that.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Cog asked. ¡°Yeah, Chroma tends to set your default physical state not only exponentially stronger per passed threshold, but also closer and closer to peak fitness and health. Any lingering diseases and conditions are well past gone after Orange, even stuff like high stage cancer or Alzheimer''s.¡± Cog froze, blinking. ¡°I¡­ Huh,¡± he said. ¡°What is it?¡± Olga asked, and Cog shrugged. ¡°I was surprised that I wasn¡¯t surprised,¡± he said. ¡°I know it¡¯s magic, but healing such horrific diseases is still incredible to me. I assume they¡¯re nowhere near as bad on this world?¡± ¡°That would be correct.¡± Olga said. ¡°Healing magic is everywhere, and anyone with a Chroma ability that involves healing is both naturally and socially inclined to become a doctor. It makes for an easily maintained medical workforce. Unfortunately, fewer people have awakened those kinds of abilities these days, hence why we need to carry med kits; it''s sort of a hot commodity.¡± ¡°Makes sense.¡± Cog said. ¡°I¡¯m going to master this breathing before even trying to take the drop suite, so in the meantime, what¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°Well, the plan was to have you absorb the drops and then help you decide where to go, but seeing as you still want to practice breathing, I suppose we could drive around and give you a tour,¡± Braune said. ¡°I¡¯ll stick behind for that,¡± Olga said, gesturing to the vehicles. ¡°I¡¯ve got half a dozen oil changes to perform, and I need to check the coolant and capsules in all of them. It¡¯s patrol day in two days, and since it¡¯s my turn to maintain the vehicles, I want it to be done and over with.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stay here, too.¡± Noelle said, eyes darting to the Clanker she¡¯d been reaching under briefly. ¡°No particular reason. Make it a guy¡¯s day!¡± ¡°That¡¯ll be a party of two,¡± Braune said. ¡°I need to make my way back to the mess hall and help prep breakfast.¡± ¡°Then I suppose it¡¯s just you and I.¡± Xandir told Cog, eyes soft. ¡°I should be able to answer a vast majority of your questions myself, and I should be able to direct you to individuals who can help you resolve the rest.¡± "It''s uh... it''s kinda loud here," Cog said, frowning. "Could we go somewhere else?" "Well, clankers with fresh installations do need to be test-driven. I suppose we could take one out for a drive - we''d choose one utilizing new safety features, so there''s no risk of mechanical failure." ¡°Just going for a drive? Works for me,¡± Cog said, shrugging. ¡°Maybe you can help me sort through all of my windows and menus, even the racial traits? ...Maybe?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Xandir chuckled, then guided Cog to the Clanker they¡¯d arrived in. He held open the passenger side door for the pech to hop in. ¡°I have a driver¡¯s license, you know.¡± Cog said. ¡°What''s a driver¡¯s license?¡± Xandir asked. ¡°Oh, dear.¡± Cog muttered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After an extensive list of Cog''s safety concerns regarding Xandir''s driving legitimacy went unresolved, unanswered or otherwise unnoticed, he showed Cog the frontmost cabin of the Clanker. Xandir had ultimately taken the wheel, as the controls were just far enough beyond Cog¡¯s understanding that he felt unsafe to drive it; the steering mechanisms were closer to that of what he remembered seeing on aircraft in games on Earth - not to mention the long, wide dashboard filled with a half dozen shift sticks, over twenty buttons and nine different gauges that cumulatively made his head spin. Xandir pulled out a map to explain the route he wished to take them along; the pair would drive down a long, winding path leading to a city called Eliriv, which was apparently home to Olga¡¯s species, the Dracht. However, they would make their circuit across extensive farmlands rather than actually enter the city, and the overall journey would take a solid four to five hours, bringing them back to the garage just slightly past lunchtime. Cog was also surprised to learn that the time in this new world was nearly identical to his old world, except for a few points: their calendar had twelve months with twenty-eight days each, and a thirteenth month with twenty-nine. That extra day on the thirteenth month was used as a sort of annual get-together to ensure trade and goods were widespread across ?thoun - a global holiday that, in his own mind, Cog equated to a ''Super Christmas''. Each day had a solid 24 hours to it, with the normal 60 minutes to the hour and 60 seconds to the minute. Cog made himself familiar with the layout of the map, noting a few bizarre symbols that slowly drifted into the letters he knew as the cardinal directions, and he silently thanked his translation power. He noticed a few symbols right along their path, however, and Xandir neglected to mention a word about them. They looked like very simplified versions of red-eyed wolves, and Cog tilted his head, mulling over the different monsters he remembered that could fit such a description. The engine quickly revved to life, and as they were just out of sight of the garage, Cog opened his mouth to ask about the odd markings. However, before he could get a word out, Xandir piped up. ¡°So. I imagine you¡¯ve got a veritable storm of questions,¡± he said, glancing at Cog. ¡°Before you make any inquiries, could you let me give you some basic information about your situation?¡± Cog nodded and Xandir smiled slightly, taking his eyes off the road for half a second to acknowledge the pech. ¡°First of all, the Arnik situation. There¡¯s a lot of bizarre soul interactivity going on within you, seeing as your spirit is suppressing another in the latter''s own vessel. Nobody I personally know well is excessively knowledgeable in those areas of study, but I am aware of several institutions where you should be able to find individuals who can aid you. Some conflicts might arise while you undergo training because of your nature, and there¡¯s a plethora of ways they could manifest. Please understand that we will be assisting you, should you still remain with the Exploration Gentry at that point.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Cog said, slightly easing the tension he didn¡¯t know he had on the topic, though his eyes didn''t leave the symbols he saw earlier. Xandir nodded, then noticed the pech''s gaze. "I see you noticed the markings," he said. "Those are signifiers of monsters, if you couldn''t guess; we will be safe, seeing as we''ve made precautions beforehand. We tend to secure all roads within a ten-mile radius around garage on a daily basis, neutralizing any threats to passersby, so those creatures shouldn''t be an issue." "And if they are?" Cog asked. "Then I will take care of them. They seem to be no further than the red threshold in power, so it should be fairly simple." "Are those markings ever wrong?" Cog asked, and Xandir nodded. "They can be, but I haven''t seen a wrong one in over a decade. To be fair, I personally fill out my maps a vast majority of the time, and I''m far more thorough than most, so it isn''t a reliable failure rate for all maps. Besides that, I grabbed this map in a rush; you''re unexplored territory, and I''m not particularly ''put together'' at the moment, for lack of better phrasing. Still, the Clanker is safe - we reinforced this particular vehicle for longer treks through various areas. Even if the map I was given for today is false, the monsters around the path are a type I can defeat with relative ease." Cog nodded, taking a deep breath. An awkward silence took hold of the car, though Xandir quickly put an end to it. ¡°Next, I would imagine you desire information on what exactly a pech is." Xandir scratched his chin before giving Cog a sidelong glance. "Do me a favor and activate that Race section in your menu, would you?¡± Cog nodded, navigating the menu until a familiar block of information was laid before him. [RACE: Pech] ¡°It just states my race.¡± Cog said, and Xandir''s eyes glinted. ¡°Are you prepared to witness something incredible, Cog?¡± he asked, and the pech nodded. ¡°Make an expanding motion with your fingers, right over the name of your species,¡± Xandir said, and Cog complied. A sudden flood of text hit him like a tidal wave, and his eyes gleamed with the overflow of data as he read it all aloud. [RACIAL SECTION RACE: Pech (Arnik) RACIAL MUTATIONS: 0 >N/A RACIAL TRAITS >BODY - HYPERTROPHY (Pech) >MIND - INCESSANT (Human) >AURA - AMALGAM (Arnik) >SOUL - BEDLAM (Arnik) RACIAL BOOSTS BODY: 3 THRESHOLD MULT (Pech) MIND: 1 THRESHOLD MULT AURA: 1 THRESHOLD MULT SOUL: 2 THRESHOLD MULT (Boosted from 1 THRESHOLD MULT from {BEDLAM}) RACIAL ABILITIES >{Avarice} >{Darkvision} >{Dual Nature} LOCKED RACIAL ABILITIES >{Minor Permeation} >{Human Will} >{Hybrid Nexus}] ¡°That is¡­ a lot of info.¡± Cog said, blinking. ¡°Let¡¯s dissect it, one portion at a time,¡± Xandir said. ¡°You''re aware of Arniks - someone whose soul, brought back to a physical realm, instinctively takes over a living body and suppresses the vessel''s rightful soul. The other part, and arguably the more important part, is what race you¡¯ve come into as an Arnik.¡± ¡°So. Care to finally inform me about whatever these ¡®pech¡¯ are?¡± Cog asked, then his face shifted into confusion. ¡°Pechs? Peches? Pechi?¡± ¡°It''s an invariant - the plural is pech.¡± Xandir said with a chuckle. ¡°The short answer is, they¡¯re a significantly more powerful and sparse variety of goblin. The longer answer is that they overlap not only with goblinoids, but also with fae, elementals and even mildly with imps. They tend to live underground and are most certainly nocturnal, only emerging from their hovels at night to hunt for food and gather any objects of intrigue within a half dozen miles of their homes. They enjoy communions of new sensations with others of their kind, it seems; we¡¯ve received a handful of reports where particularly stealthy individuals managed to witness circles of them passing various objects around. Each pech was gnawing, closely inspecting or attempting to break the things they were passed. Nobody is quite sure why they gather, nor why they all share the experiences collected each evening, but I personally believe it to be a sort of bonding ritual. Think something akin to sharing food with a sibling, or dining with the family - evidence of a social species.¡± ¡°That makes sense. I have been really eager to learn new things as of late; I mean, I normally am, but ever since I¡¯ve been out of danger, it¡¯s been¡­ odd.¡± ¡°How so?¡± Xandir asked. Cog tilted his head in consideration. ¡°The best way I can describe it is feeling extremely hungry, except in my brain instead of my stomach. Like I''m desperate to get new information or I''ll wither away.¡± ¡°Interesting¡­¡± Xandir muttered, nodding to himself. ¡°That could explain why they always claim so many items, sometimes even risking their well-being in doing so.¡± "Explain why they steal stuff, you mean?" Cog asked, then shook his head. ¡°More importantly, you said they also have fae and elemental backgrounds? How do those tie in?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Xandir said, ¡°It¡¯s widely believed that the Fae portion of them became hyper-fixated on the aspect of greed. Their goblinoid nature of greediness, and their fae emotional amplification push upon one another, akin to a feedback loop. As for the elemental part, well¡­ Nobody¡¯s positive how, but a few people - Olga included - speculate that they eat all of the gemstones and metals they find. Over time, this inured them to both the element and the Chroma type of Earth. In addition, being naturally magical creatures, they passively absorb Chroma to help them live. This extends their lifespans and accelerates their evolution, though not much has changed for decades in the latter regard. Due to their very nature and their inherent lack of aura abilities, their bodies vastly overcompensate; their body utilizes the mutagenic properties of the magic they absorb for physical gains, which is a typical default for magical creatures; denser and stronger muscles, harder and more flexible bones, that sort of thing. What¡¯s after your race on there?¡± ¡°Racial mutations?¡± Cog asked, and shook his head. ¡°I have none of those, but I got something called ¡®Soul-Dense¡¯ shortly after I opened my system. Said it¡¯s one of five mutations needed to get a Racial Mutation or something.¡± ¡°That¡¯s no concern at this moment.¡± Xandir said. ¡°It¡¯s essentially a way to grow yourself as a member of your species alongside your Chroma. There''s a plethora of ways to receive mutations, and all include varying levels of unpleasant activity.¡± ¡°Moving on, then,¡± Cog said, scrolling down a bit in his interface. ¡°The next things listed are racial traits, but I want to know about these racial boosts first.¡± ¡°Ah, racial boosts.¡± Xandir said wistfully. ¡°They determine how high your stats are bumped upon crossing a threshold. It¡¯s a base number plugged into a complex equation within your Xytos. Nothing really more to it than that.¡± ¡°Ah.¡± Cog said, frowning. He felt as though that wasn''t all there was to them, but he was in no position to push the issue. ¡°Let¡¯s get to racial traits, then; I have Hypertrophy, Defiant, Amalgam and Bedlam. Each one has a different race listed by it, too - what¡¯s that all about?¡± ¡°First of all, Bedlam and Amalgam - or similar racial traits - are always a given for an Arnik,¡± Xandir said. ¡°It¡¯s what allows the body to stabilize its two souls. You tend to receive one racial trait from your original species, then a final trait from your new body¡¯s own kind. I can safely say that I haven¡¯t a clue what Hypertrophy does, though I''d wager it has something to do with the pech''s tendency to push magic into its natural growth." ¡°Noted. Another question,¡± Cog said, tone finally shifting from irritable nervousness to scholarly inquiry. ¡°What was with Noelle claiming that souls aren¡¯t good or evil? I thought people were their souls?¡± ¡°Ah, that¡¯s a rather simple answer,¡± Xandir said. ¡°As you grow with your Chroma, assuming you claim your own Chroma, you¡¯ll gradually learn about yourself. Nothing so shallow as likes and dislikes, though it is part of the discovery process; no, you will discover you as each individual piece, then all of it combined into what is you as an individual. Through this, you¡¯ll learn exactly what your soul is. To make a very long story short, though - and to disparagingly simplify it - your soul is most akin to a slate where your personality and such are written down." "I think I get it," Cog said. "As you develop yourself, it gets written on that tablet, right?" "Right," Xandir said. "Now, can a slate be good or evil?" ¡°No,¡± Cog said, true understanding dawning on his face. ¡°And if there¡¯s taint upon it, is it the slate¡¯s fault?¡± ¡°No, it isn¡¯t!¡± Cog exclaimed, eyes widening. ¡°I never realized souls were like that.¡± ¡°It could be unlike where you¡¯re from; I only know how souls function in our reality. I have a feeling your soul functions the same way, though; you are an Arnik, after all, which implies your soul''s functionality is compatible with ours, if not identical.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right about that, I think,¡± Cog said, rubbing his temples. "This is just... a lot, y''know? It''s hard to-" He was interrupted by a sudden, violent impact against the side of the Clanker, causing Xandir to wildly jerk the controls in one direction. The vehicle was jolted upwards, its occupants tossed about as wet splattering, heavy crunching and almost sponge-like squelching reverberated in the air around them. The Clanker was very clearly no longer moving, and what could only be viscera spewed forth onto the windshield. Xandir frantically flipped switches, shifted several levers and pressed the buttons in a flurry of motion, but the Clanker was slowly lifting off the ground. Rather quickly, all contact between the treads and the dirt path beneath them was removed, causing the vehicle to shift slightly to the right. What sounded like demonic laughter and guttural hissing reverberated in the two occupants'' ears, and Xandir''s eyes grew wider than normal. A second impact caused the Clanker to shift drastically to Cog''s side; Cog himself was grasping onto the bottom of his seat for dear life, knuckles turning white. He looked about with wild and primal fear, unsure of what was happening. "I thought you said this was secure!" he cried. "That''s because it was!" Xandir yelled back. A third impact - accompanied by a final, peeling laugh - heavily shifted the Clanker on its side, Cog losing consciousness as he bashed his head against the solid metal door. The last thing he saw before it all went dark was a hunchback creature with long, shaggy fur. Its sharp, serrated teeth were a sickening yellow as its maw opened, fresh blood glistening in the mid-morning sun. Chapter 7 ~ Cacklewreaths Cog felt hot, viscous liquid dripping down his face, noting the dark substance''s nature to be similar to paint; even its color was odd, being a flowing reddish rust color. He struggled to stand, getting helped up by a pair of horrifyingly powerful hands. ¡°Are you alright, Cog?¡± A familiar voice asked, but he was too woozy to make use of his memory. His thoughts were foggy as ever, though he was in too much pain for mental processing and far too exhausted physically to struggle free; after a few seconds, he didn¡¯t really bother with thinking at all, let alone concocting a plan. He stood, swaying from side to side, before he saw a gloved hand filled with a fire engine red, mushy concoction shoved into his face and mouth. The sharp, bitter smell woke him from his pained daze, and the cuts on his face almost immediately went from painful to itching slightly - nowhere near a flawless recovery, but far more manageable than moments earlier. ¡°Cog?¡± The voice asked again, and this time, he recognized it; Xandir. Cog noted that the red goop seemed to mildly aid his brain functionality. Somehow. ¡°Y-yeah?¡± Cog muttered, rubbing his eyes the best he could with his still recovering limb. ¡°We must get you back to the hospital. You¡¯re badly hurt. We¡¯re also dealing with the sort of monster we wouldn''t want a newcomer challenging; it¡¯s a-¡± Before Xandir could get another word out, Cog was startled by a massive, silver-blue form blurring past him. It collided with Xandir, shunting the now clashing pair a few dozen meters back. Cog¡¯s once lazy attentiveness was rapidly being replaced by a prominent alert in his instinctual brain; his mind forced his body to wake up with a burst of adrenaline and, in turn, his brain honed in on the enemy. It was a disturbingly large beast; despite it not stopping, Cog would guess it to be around eight feet tall and at least sixteen to eighteen feet long. It seemed to have some sort of antlers, though he couldn¡¯t be sure until it was finally held in place by Xandir. Once the lanky man was able to stop the beast by using his arms and hands as a sort of makeshift set of jaws to hold its own off, Cog could definitively see a pair of sharp, jagged horns jutted from its head. A flash of movement in front of Cog''s face revealed an imp-like tail that cracked like a whip, the end of it sporting what looked to be a singular, oversized razor blade slicing through the air. He avoided the first strike, narrowly leaning back in time. The second strike taught him a valuable lesson in its potency, however; on contact, it sent him careening away from the beast and Xandir. As Cog regained his senses, he looked for the void person. When he realized he couldn¡¯t see the shadow man, he blinked and looked around once more. Despite Cog still being within what should be a sight-line of Xandir, the pech''s new acquaintance was suddenly gone in a great time of crisis; while his logical brain registered him as some form of roguish or stealth class, his emotional brain screamed betrayal of the highest order. Oddly enough, not even the massive beast was around; despite this, the primal portion of his brain did not rest. Instead, it screamed ''Danger'' with ever-increasing fervor. That''s when he saw, for the shortest instant, a second silhouette. It was smaller than the previous one - it could only be four feet tall at most - but its shape was uncannily similiar. Cog sprang into action as the new beast¡¯s tail flicked at him; or, at the very least, he tried to. He attempted to catch the whipping appendage in his massive jaws on the beast¡¯s first attack, but missed and narrowly avoided the subsequent swing. With the second blow, he went for another crunch, but couldn''t close his mouth fast enough and was instead lashed for his trouble. Cog was sent sprawling at least a half dozen meters away. He groaned in pain before eyeing the beast, whose erratic movements were nearly unreadable to him. He felt a frustration building inside of him that he hadn''t experienced since he was a teenager, burning its way past his growing headache. He took another breath before shakily standing up; it seemed the beast was more focused on the suddenly absent ally of Cog than on the pech himself. It stayed a tentative distance away, scouring the area for any trace of the more powerful combatant, yet still used its long tail to make lashing attacks at Cog. He had realized by that point that biting it wouldn¡¯t work, nor would trying to evade its lightning-fast attacks. He knew even attempting to fight it was dumb, possibly suicidal. He felt a familiar frustration begin to fester once more upon considering withdrawal. He shook the thought of retreat firmly out of his mind. The perceptive fog he still felt hindered his senses, but he didn''t care. One way or another, he was going to land at least one effective hit on this... impudent¡­ thing. Cog exploded forward with a roar, making use of his legs to the best of his abilities. He hadn¡¯t fully tested the physical capabilities of his new body, and despite knowing hip-checking something approximating a living, breathing motorcycle was far from the best approach to take with his scrawny build, he was driven to get the thing off-balance. He felt his heaving breaths shake his rib cage, his resolve slowly building. Despite his burst of willpower, the fact remained that his basic perception simply wasn¡¯t enough to read the creature''s approach. Upon realizing this, he tried to use various aspects of the system, but nothing within it seemed to work in any way he could effectively use; the time taken for the attempt cost him another two ferocious hits from the beast''s whip-like tail, one to the back of the head and the other to his knees. Fortunately, out of reflex or instinct, he bent his knees with the strike to avoid critical damage, but the blow still sent him stumbling - what''s worse, he could feel a bruise forming already. He frantically looked about as he tried to read the path of the creature, but even that was a waste of time. All it earned Cog was another painful thwack across his spine. The thing was simply too fast. He didn''t have enough time to track its movements, and couldn''t plan a course of action. No help from above this time, either, as the sky was clear. He felt his mind begin to tick over, streams of thoughts becoming loops as he took another blow, then another. He knew he had to act, he had to act. He- Now. The thought wasn''t in his own voice, and in fact didn''t seem like a ''voice'' at all; despite this, the meaning behind the errant presence was clear. In the instant it took to overthink a single word, Cog took yet another blow, the end of the creature''s tail piercing his skin this time. He hissed in pain, nearly whipping around to look for it, but his body... didn''t want to move? Not as though it was paralyzed, but as though he didn''t truly want it to follow his directions. If you''re a god, Cog thought, then you''ve got horrific timing. For a moment, there was no response. This time, the pause cost him another pair of lashings. The tail hit his shoulder and funny bone. Then, his eyes widened as he heard a loud popping sound accompany a third strike. His good arm went limp. ¡°Fucking hell,¡± Cog hissed, feeling his numb limb dangle uselessly. He tested his still-healing arm; it seemed sturdy, though he could tell overtaxing it wouldn¡¯t be the best idea. He took a deep breath, feeling a secondary adrenaline rush begin to pump itself through his body. Ignoring the rippling pain the best he could, he took stock between ducks and dodges. Despite learning the timing of the creature, his body still didn''t feel capable of moving fast enough to dodge many, if any, of the attacks. Now. Cog felt it in his head, his gut and chest - an affirmation to strike. He hesitated for a split second, taking stock of his body in an attempt to dissect the mental command. Now... Now what? Now strike? Now dodge? Just as the tail sliced a gash in his temple, Cog noticed something he hadn''t realized before - his teeth had clenched at the command from his mind. He rolled his jaw around, opening and closing it a few times. His fangs were too large to puncture the wiry tail of the thing, and he had already failed to- Now. Cog, throwing his thought process away this time, yanked his jaw open with enough force to pop it, then immediately slammed it shut again. He felt something smash into the skin of his cheeks, then a rubbery texture against his teeth as fluid sprayed around his open mouth. A gut-wrenching, nearly human scream emerged from the lips of the thing as it was caught off-guard, savagely tugging at its tail before lunging at Cog. The pech, out of reflex, held his hands in front of himself to guard his face, teeth clenching more to keep his enemy at as much of a disadvantage as possible - it felt as though he were playing tug of war against a quarterback with only his mouth. He yelled in surprise as piercing fangs dug into his outstretched hand, and he quickly made a fist to provide difficulty to the beast. As it turned out, this worked in both sides'' favor as his hand became stuck in its maw. While the beast could not bite or whip with its tail and was highly limited in mobility, Cog was in the same position as it - he couldn''t move for a better angle, nor could he use his most potent weapons, his hands and mouth. Finally able to get a good look at the beast, Cog felt an involuntary shudder go through him. The thing''s coat was an ominous blue-grey, much akin to heavy storm clouds. Its head did, in fact, sport a pair of antlers that seemed too small for its body, and its eyes - all four of them - were glaring daggers at the pech. Their oily black sclera and navy blue irises didn''t help in easing his tension, nor did the egregious arch of its back. What Cog initially wrote off as a hump was more akin to a hunchback, its malnourished body letting its spine poke past its protruding arch. The thing''s tail seemed to sprout from a clump of plumage on its rear, and its abnormally long legs were bent to add force to its escape attempt. Powerful paws sported razor-sharp claws at their ends, digging mightily into the ground but finding no good purchase. As it let out another howl, its maw opened wider than Cog had imagined possible - the only thing he saw that could match it was a picture of a Tasmanian tiger he''d seen years back. Before he could take advantage of the action, it somehow gripped his hand tightly with just its gums, as though they had their own sets of muscles. Perhaps the most disturbing part of it was the seemingly random protrusions of bone emerging from its head and back, lumps and jagged spikes haphazardly spread across its figure. They circled one another, both making strained noises as they tugged at whatever they''d gripped onto. Ultimately, even if the canine let him go, he would get an advantage on it, and vice versa. They were at a stalemate, and both parties understood this; however, the pech had a single advantage over the hound. Cog knew what he had to do. He just really, really didn''t want to. After swallowing his pride, he steeled his resolve. He began to grind his teeth, feeling a crunching and cracking as rubbery skin tore and flesh ripped. His maw was filled with liquid, and he had to puff out his cheeks to avoid swallowing any, but his actions clearly had an effect on the beast before him. It began howling in agony, more ferociously yanking on its tail in an attempt to escape. It had nearly stopped its grip on his fist, which allowed him to yank his arm out and kick it in the jaw. In the moments it was discombobulated, Cog took full advantage, using his arm to tug at the thin appendage. It felt horrible against his teeth and taste buds, and the smell of the fluid was like petrolium and sewage - even still, he continued to tug, yank and cut at the tail, which was proving to be far more resilient than Cog had thought before. Finally, just as the thing sank its teeth into his good arm, Cog ripped the tail from the beast, spitting a half-stripped column of spine and a mouthful of foul, brown-orange liquid from his mouth. Its eyes widened, pupils constricting as it stared at its shredded limb. It let out a hissing howl before beginning to retch, Cog joining it in an attempt to get the last of what he could only assume was its blood out of his mouth. When he saw what the other portion of the tail looked like - spewing ichor and stripped to the bone like a wire - Cog truly did vomit. When he looked back up, the thing had begun to recollect itself. It tried to dash about, but clearly, its tail was used for balance; it stumbled and fell on its side for a moment before scrambling to its feet and trying again. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. As he stood back up, Cog wiped his mouth and spat a few times, getting the horrid combination of tastes fully off his tongue. The hound was starting to make headway in rebalancing itself with what had to be a third of its tail remaining, but it was now slow enough for Cog to track with his own eyes. Not easily, but the fact he could see it moving at all was a vast improvement. Considering it didn''t seem interested in attacking him right away, the pech took the brief reprieve to glance around the environment. They were on a short plateau of grass and stone; weeds and flowers burst from sediments long since cracked apart, and the turf seemed to grow over the rock beneath. He silently wondered how in the world they could have gotten onto a plateau with a vehicle using tank treads. Then, his gaze fell on the nearby Clanker, and he nearly vomited again. All the oddly disgusting sounds, the violent bumps, the animal calls - it all made sense. A veritable hill of bodies was crushed into paste, clumps of fur and bone and meaty organs spread across the earth and Clanker alike, tread marks ripping the skin apart on several of the corpses. The mound of bodies spilled onto the plateau from the ground below. Every single one had the same imp-like tails and silver-blue fur, and each was far too mangled to see what the things looked like before. Cog, for the first time since arriving in the world, held back his vomit as he knelt down by a verdant crack in the stone. Flashing glances at the struggling beast not ten meters in front of him, he ripped the notable weed from the gap, tossed it to the side, and gripped the stone from within the fracture. When he tugged upwards and it inevitably did not yield, he grunted in annoyance and looked at his fingers. His numb arm still worked, but didn¡¯t feel like it could offer very much in terms of strength. His healing arm felt stronger than before, but he could tell it couldn¡¯t take much abuse without tearing itself apart - not yet, at least. A single glance at the beast revealed its attempts at balance were relatively progressive, but it was obvious that it still needed more time. Instead of trying to jump in, and after a very short debate with himself, he carved a dish-sized circle into the stone before him. He used his fingers to jab and slash into the rock, cutting through it like butter. He hefted, putting in far more effort than before and using his numb limb, and felt a shifting in both of his arms. He was about to stop out of fear of further injuring himself, but just before he could withdraw, the stone slab popped out with a sound akin to a grindstone. The two-inch-thick slab flew a few feet into the air, and he awkwardly caught it before it could be broken apart on the ground. He glanced back at the creature, which was now moving in a blur of motion around him in consistent bursts. Its tail was finally a neutralized threat, and the ranged assault on Cog was over for the time being. For a moment, he once more considered running, his logical brain finally overpowering his pride. This idea was quickly shot down as, with even a single step backwards, its motions grew a few feet closer. He eyed the areas it was dashing along, trying to make sense of its movement patterns - a far easier task now that he could actually see it. He waited until the monster had moved just a bit too far away from him in its realignment. Then, Cog took a gamble. He launched the rough stone disc like a frisbee where he assumed the thing would move next. With a crunch and a howl, the creature was sent stumbling by the rocky projectile, which embedded itself halfway into its flank. The wolf-like monster slid a handful of meters before it finally stopped, and Cog took a moment to ogle at his body''s raw strength, even in its injured state. The creature let out a screech that made him think of a hissing snake getting punched in the throat. Cog took a breath, memorizing the thing¡¯s appearance; it writhed on the ground, whimpering and hissing with a gaping wound on its side. The stone disc was lodged in tightly, spurts of the viscous, brown-orange fluid spraying out when it moved certain ways. He wanted to feel happy about doing some damage to a genuine monster, but really only felt regret. A deep resentment filled his mind, which warred with his survival instinct. His earlier nightmare flashed in his mind, but he shoved the bloody spectacle aside, once more having to hold back bile. Then, he realized a change both unexpected and unwelcome. Someone¡­ No, something was pushing back. Cog gritted his teeth, sudden surprise immediately shifting to anger. He hated not being able to get rid of thoughts on his own, so he had spent considerable time and effort learning how to suppress them himself. Whatever this entity was, be it god or otherwise, it was attempting to press the very thoughts Cog wanted to ignore into the forefront of his mind. He felt another, more potent pulse of adrenaline burst through his body, then noticed something else accompanying it. Cog narrowed his eyes at the feeling, allowing his gaze to falter as he tried to steady himself. That was the precise moment that the monster had been waiting for, and it lunged at Cog. Narrowly stepping out of the way, the pech used the thing''s own momentum against it - he pushed it further ahead with a swift kick, and it was sent sprawling with a whimper. Realizing he needed to be armed better than he was and knowing how to do it, Cog proceeded to use his feet to carve a rough parallelogram - a makeshift blade - into the stone beneath him. He was unsure if the claws on his feet would be able to carve stone like his hands; fortunately, though they weren''t quite as effective, they still got the job done. Once the thing broke into a sprint towards him, Cog held the improvised weapon aloft, then brought the stone down on the charging monster. Unfortunately for Cog, one factor was working against him. His body, though quite dense, was unexpectedly light when compared to the monster''s own. The tackle it hit him with not only drove the blade far into its flesh, but sent the two careening across the plateau''s surface. Cog painfully twisted his torso as his arms bent in ways any other creature would cringe at, body practically ragdolling with the centrifugal force. His foot caught the thing''s lower jaw in the process, which caused its mouth to hook onto Cog''s leg as the pair were sent from a straight motion into a wild tumble. They both took a moment to regain their senses after stopping mere feet from the ledge, Cog''s human mind screaming that his leg had to be fully broken. Fortunately, his situation helped to subdue that instinct, though bending a leg that far in such a weird angle would still take quite a bit of getting used to. When he looked up, he noticed the beast within a couple of feet of him, head facing the opposite direction of his position. He raised his arm, then harshly slammed a fist against the stone disc impaled in its hide. The monster let out a wailing cry, flailing on the ground, and the following, savage slash from Cog''s claws landed right in the beast¡¯s front paw. Once more screeching, it tried to scramble to its feet, but tripped over itself, landing hard on top of Cog. A slight bending and crackly, popping sound emanating from his chest caused panic to stir in the pech''s gut. A fervor, previously unknown, burned its way into his mind. He recalled the revelry and ferocious desperation he¡¯d released in the nightmares, and felt the choice rear its head again. For a moment, he sat, fully still; this gave the monster time to buck him with its rear legs in its attempts to stand, the impact landing directly on his loose ribs. He felt something in his chest fully snap before letting out his own scream of pain. The monster used its back legs to further kick at the wounded goblinoid, but found itself unable to attack freely anymore. It let out a dismayed call, not unlike what he''d imagine a baying wolf choking on gravel would sound like, as it realized Cog was squeezing its hind feet in a death grip. The hand that held them, half numb but still mostly strong, squeezed past the point of severing tendons and shattering bone. With his other hand, Cog slashed all along the underbelly of the monster, a viscous brown-orange fluid and eerily blue organs pouring from wide gouges. Despite being relatively immobile and severely wounded, the thing simply didn''t give up its assault; Cog was beginning to tread the ragged edge, unable to fulfill much more than short bursts of speed and strength against the writhing beast. Despite this, feeling the give of its resilient body filled him with a primal sense of satiation. Between Cog''s attempts to gut the creature, it bit at him with jaws clacking audibly. Its internals had to have nearly fully spilled out by then, but it still kept trying to fight back. This close, Cog could even see the previous intelligence in it''s eyes replaced with pure, feral bloodlust. Having expended more energy than he should have, he had to stop for a slight reprieve. The beast unleashed a burst of unexpected strength in its back legs within that moment, prying off Cog before it clamped down on his worse arm. It writhed and twisted its neck, trying to wrench the limb free, succeeding in partially tearing the still healing injury open. Cog cried out in pain, reflexively and rapidly jamming his free hand''s claws into the thing''s head. The monster let out more whimpers and hisses through its clenched teeth, but refused to release its death grip. Again and again, dangerously sharp fingers plunged themselves deep into the monster¡¯s skull, scrambling its senses and causing an ever-worsening concussion. Even still, it kept slowly but surely tearing away at the wound, unable to use its failing paws but not needing more than its viciously sharp teeth. As more muscle was torn and more bone was chipped, the monstrosity before him gradually began to wear down. Its tugs were weaker, though the more it tore, the less it needed to try. While it was slowing down, however, Cog was entering a frenzy. He began frantically punching the thing''s now visible skull, his own sharp knuckles managing to fracture - and eventually shatter - portions of it. As more chips of bone flew through the air, Cog''s ferocity sped up his attacks. Finally, with one of countless jabs, his hand smashed into something soft. A darker fluid, this one closer to the color of standard leather, sprayed out like water from a garden hose. He jabbed his hand into it a few more times to be safe until, blessedly, the beast went limp. Its jaws were still gripping Cog¡¯s limb, but the pech took a long moment to catch his breath before using his fluid-lined arm to pry the beast¡¯s jaws open and retract his nearly severed limb. It felt entirely unusable, no sense but pain left in the appendage; while it wasn''t as torn free as with the fialtog, it was still easily two thirds of the way free of his torso. He cursed a string of expletives under his breath, then held the thing¡¯s head up and slashed its neck a few times with deep, penetrating strokes. More fluid gushed out quickly, and he dropped the stone dagger to the ground. Cog was startled by a window suddenly popping up in front of his eyes. [You have slain 1 {Cacklewreath}! Would you like to loot {Cacklewreath}? >Y/N] Cog panted heavily, breath rapidly catching as though he''d been crying. He threw the thing''s corpse to the side for some personal space. He mentally accepted, letting himself fall on his back heavily. [Congratulations! You have slain 1 {Cacklewreath} [OT]! You have gained the following loot: +1 YD (Enemy 1 threshold above you,