ã€ŠHarm On Eyesã€‹


 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 1: Shoe Leather

    This was the shelf life; the husk of Cosima¡¯s biggest loss.

    She was perishable. Idling emptily in the eclypse of her room, she wasted away in the sickly purple skin that she knew wasn¡¯t hers.

    To the winner went the spoils; she seethed at the prosperity she once had before the world seized it. For five years now, she has been spoiled: redundant, misshapen, and rancid. She shunned the sun behind dingy drapes; she couldn¡¯t fly too close anymore. The grass on the other side of her noxious nook was bristle, but as she washed her eyeless eye sockets with the dreary domain of her apartment bedroom she¡¯d never left, a fleeting thought told her that the other misfits from all walks of life were leading more verdant lives.

    Her weathered fingers clutched vehemently at the seams of her sweatpants, keratin branches scraping the fabric in crooked motions. She couldn¡¯t cry; she could only imagine the downpour of tears from the drought of her hollow sockets. She couldn¡¯t sweat; her worries were whisked away to accommodate despair. She couldn¡¯t think; her mind was blank, and¡ªout of defiance¡ªshe once again wandered to thoughts she was warned not to entertain.

    She clasped the chaotic bedsheets, her spindly figure shaking as she whimpered dryly in a once pristine voice savaged by radiation.

    Believe it or not, this was the only thing she could do. The only thing she wanted to do.

    Could she brandish herself to the world? Could she smile with her sallow teeth and arid lips that glitter and gloss couldn¡¯t fix? Could she grace the magazine covers with flaky hips?

    She hated answering truthfully.

    Then, scornfully, in the sooty atmosphere of her room, she imagined unimaginable arrays of lights. She pictured the longing gazes of cameras. Then, to stab herself further in the wound that was her rotten body, she dreamed up action that she would never experience again. Flashes, accolades, hoots for poses¡ªall of these are now directed at men and women alike, who remain digestible eye candy in a world where every form of life has degraded.

    Gone are the days when she could fit lustrous apparel; gone are the days when she could fit the bill.

    So, in line with her schedule, she took a beauty shot of the irretrievable past and continued to weep, her failing heart bleeding eternally on her sleeve.

    Then, there was a click¡ªa metallic one¡ªthat sounded from the bedroom door. She snivelled but softened slightly as the doors of her mind unlatched themselves. As the first droplets of light pooled into her room after countless hours of absence, she attempted to salvage the remnants of hope left trashed as she steered the thin of her neck towards some sort of saving grace.

    The clutch on the silky bedsheets loosened, awaiting the only thing she looked forward to every day.

    ¡°Cosimama,¡± a bald man hummed endearingly, slumping against the doorframe with sloppy grace as bloodshot yet pacific black orbs stared out towards the expressionless woman. ¡°Taking a break from a commission¡ªI might just die if I have to draw another hand.¡±

    A winsome chuckle chimed from his throat, a sound that didn¡¯t diminish the pit in her stomach but illuminated it. A comfortable silence lingered over them, with Cosima¡¯s grip tightening subconsciously as she watched the man fall smoothly into a grave expression. His inflamed eyes became focused as they flitted across the room, pinpointing many different trinkets.

    He double-checked the white walls, devoid of any photos. Nothing else was added.

    He noted the colourful iPhone that sat facedown on a decorated office desk. Untouched.

    He peered at the ornate windows near the bedside, curtains obscuring the daylight. Still covering the glass.

    He finally landed on Cosima, creeping into the gloom of the room for a better view. No open magazines. No remote in hand for the TV opposite the bed. No object of physical or mental harm in hand.

    Everything tangible looked fine; the intangible worried him. So, as routine as it was, he would pry.

    The man approached the purple woman slowly with an inquisitive look.

    ¡°Have you opened the curtains?¡± he¡¯d ask, his round face tilting.

    ¡°No,¡± Cosima hoarsely replied, all her attention and mind focused on him.

    ¡°Hiding any beaut¡¯ mags?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Any pains?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    They both found that answer difficult to swallow.

    Silence took over, and Cosima grew impatient. He was taking his sweet time to sit down next to her.

    Though, when he finally did, at the drop of a hat, she clung to his arm with urgent delicacy, mindful of the overflow of boils and rashes that bubbled from his hairless skin. Shifting her grip to the linen of his short-sleeved button-up, she embraced him further. She took in all of his musky scent and drowned herself in his chest. Tepid and courteous, the man took her bony figure into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the rank air she exuded. Though he persisted, thumbing her dull brown head of hair with care, minimizing the strands that came loose with little to no effort.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Sin¡­¡± she murmured, his nickname being the only name that rolled off her tongue nowadays.

    ¡°We¡¯ll talk in a bit. Just¡­ calm down a tad for me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±

    He blinked, then gave her a small smile that felt strained from exhaustion yet still held so much love that she pined for.

    Hiding in her lover¡¯s shirt was instinct; she had no shame in her greed. Sinjin was always within arm¡¯s reach. His warmth was everything but reflective. She couldn¡¯t see herself in him; he was opaque.

    She became a monster at the whim of the universe, and that¡¯s when she realized that all the mirrors were whimsical. They pulled at her leg and ridiculed her, but she knew what she saw in the glass wasn¡¯t true. The abomination that stood on the other side wasn¡¯t her; that¡¯s not what she worked for.

    It was a five-year running gag she wished would end. She was worn out but somehow continued to tug at the string of life because her lover would be the shield that made sure she lived out what she believed held no worth.

    She didn¡¯t want to be eaten. The reflections would devour her, so she evaded the truth that glass would show her and bent to her boyfriend¡¯s touch.

    Mirrors were now malevolent, so the blankness of his shirt and his silence was better to hold.

    ¡°Cosimama?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk now.¡±

    Cosima didn¡¯t let go. She was used to Sinjin¡¯s daily attempts to get her to speak her mind. The times when she had abstract thoughts¡ªlike all human beings¡ªwere lamented by her. Every time they had these introspective sessions, her emotions were linear and to the point. She¡¯d even think that the man she cuddled with was silently picking her brain through telepathy. It was terrifying because it was possible in this day and age.

    She stared up at Sinjin, who looked out into space with an empty expression. She didn¡¯t fret; she knew he would come back to her in seconds, as per usual.

    He blinked out of his stupor, turning to her malnourished face, where small violet wisps lingered weakly in the holes in her head. She knew she wasn¡¯t the best sight at all, but the man was always able to give her a steady and soft smile every time they saw eye-to-eye like this. She felt safe.

    ¡°State of mind?¡± Sinjin questioned, furrowing nonexistent eyebrows.

    ¡°Uh¡­ well¡­¡±

    Cosima shyly looked to the side, Sinjin tilting her face back to him gently with a reassuring gaze.

    ¡°Eye contact, remember¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right¡­ right, yeah¡ªsorry¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine; you can tell me anything.¡±

    Cosima tensed but nodded, relaxing as his face lightened up more.

    ¡°I suppose¡ª¡±she exhaled wearily¡ª¡±I¡¯m¡­doing same old, same old.¡±

    ¡°Any thoughts?¡±

    ¡°They¡­ don¡¯t change¡ªsorry, Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey, no¡­ don¡¯t apologize. If there¡¯s something we can¡¯t control, it¡¯s where our minds wander, y¡¯know?¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±

    A comforting silence ensued once more, the only sounds being the late day''s car horns on the street, the low squeal of police cars and ambulances, and then the dry cough she made against him.

    Sinjin patted her back accordingly.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get some water¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. Stay. I¡¯m fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ok, then perish,¡± he¡¯d grumble lightheartedly, rolling his droopy eyes with exaggerated swagger as he tore away from her sharp grip and stood up. He heard her attempt a throaty laugh, but as expected, she just hacked more and more.

    The man rushed out of the room and returned with a lukewarm bottle, spinning the cap off and carefully sitting back down. Her hands were still airborne from the brief disconnect, but once he sat back down, they tugged at him again as if she were some child.

    ¡°How long am I going to have to spoon-feed you?¡± Sinjin jested, putting the bottle near her lips. He secured one hand under her chin to tip it up lightly, allowing the water to go through. She gulped it down; she had almost forgotten its taste.

    ¡°Sorry¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re also more touchy and feely today¡ª¡±he aimed the empty bottle at a nearby trash can¡ª¡±so I know there¡¯s something else you¡¯re worried about¡­ and I know what it is.¡±

    Cosima couldn¡¯t truly hide anything; she always seemed exposed. No matter where she was, she was an open book for judging. That part of her life hasn¡¯t changed for her since.

    ¡°Yeah¡­it¡¯s weird.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s something that I¡ªno, we may just regret but¡ª¡±he kept the bottle down to focus on the conversation and tapped it against his swollen wrist¡ª¡±I feel like this may be the only way to get closer to¡­ y¡¯know, some actual answers.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­ who¡¯s this person we¡¯re meeting with tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°I have the slightest clue what parents name their child ¡®Theta¡¯, but that¡¯s our lil¡¯ dealer tomorrow, I guess,¡± Sinjin huffed in disbelief, gaining a softer hug from Cosima to make sure he doesn¡¯t overwork himself regarding their life decisions. ¡°He lives here in Long Beach, fortunately, and¡­ uh, his LinkedIn profile said that he was a Bio professor¡ªso, like, I mean, we¡¯re getting mutant animals from someone that knows his stuff, right?¡±

    ¡°I think so, yeah¡ª¡±

    ¡°But most importantly, are you comfortable with this?¡± Sinjin asked, a stern overlay to his low voice as he stared deeply at Cosima¡¯s agape mouth, pondering the question. The smell became much clearer to him, so he waited for her response with bated breath, watching her fiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

    Moments passed as she contemplated because, until now, she had never stepped out of fashion. She was so used to this new clockwork life of doing nothing that she even let this incoming appointment¡ªwhich may lead her in the right direction¡ªslip her mind. They¡¯d discussed this idea for weeks now, but as she waded at bedrock level in her mind, restoring herself to normal seemed as much of a pipe dream as her leaving the apartment more than once a week.

    Though, she couldn¡¯t ignore the call. It wasn¡¯t the call for adventure; it was the casting call that would pull her back into the atmosphere she cherished. She despised the thought of stooping to this voguish ordeal that was the Harmonization Culture, but on the brink of expiry, she relented to the ¡®if¡¯s.

    If there was truly a method to the madness. If there was truly a rare remedy out there to obtain. If there was truly a way to reverse the damnation she received.

    If she had no intrinsic value, did she have anything to lose?

    No.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Sinjin squinted suspiciously at her response, causing her to divert her gaze away from him, only for him to once again put themselves on the same level.

    ¡°Contact¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah yeah¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tell the truth¡ª¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯d be fine, Sin! You¡¯re stingy as fu¡ª¡±

    She broke into more gravelly coughing fits, prompting Sinjin to adjust himself slightly so he could pull her into him more. The man bit his lip as he held back a smirk.

    ¡°You¡¯re more expressive when you say more than one sentence. Almost like that¡¯s a good thing, don¡¯t you think?¡± He finally chucked the bottle towards a trash can, missing it completely and hissing. ¡°Crap.¡±

    Cosima didn¡¯t reply; she just buried herself as much as she could into his chest. Sinjin¡¯s mouth straightened, and he reverted to his usual deadpan look.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do this, but if at any time you want to back out, make the call and I¡¯ll comply as well,¡± Sinjin assured, twiddling a loose strand that dangled from her hair. ¡°This decision isn¡¯t very conventional, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°If many are doing it, why shouldn¡¯t we? I want my identity back, Sin¡ªI can¡¯t keep living like this.¡± Then her throaty voice became throatier as she fell into gruff hiccups and sobs once more. Sinjin¡¯s expression became darker, his droopy eyes staring at the floor with disdain for the world as he soothed his mutant lover with gentle hands.

    ¡°Ah¡­ so you¡¯re sure. Fine by me.¡±

    He fell into silence once more and stared into nothingness, allowing her to let it all out. Just another component of his daily routine.

    In an act that he knew was humdrum, he took hold of the remote from the bedside table and angled his hive-infested hand towards the TV. He clicked the power button with drab expectancy and was proven right as the TV flickered on, mute headlines bombarding the screen:

    ¡®IMMUNITY OUTBREAK ALERT! RAMPAGING MUTANT FOUND TO BE A VESSEL FOR RADIATION IMMUNITY!¡¯

    Expected.

    The sirens beyond their apartment bedroom were in discordant symphony with the small wails of the woman in his arms. He looked at her once again, making sure she was still turning away from everything behind her. The flashing TV, the windows, the mirrors, the world¡ªany reflection possible would wolf her down in a heartbeat. So, despite her odour, he allowed her to sink closer to him¡ªsink into something hazy. He teared up.

    Could she leave it?

    Could she leave the shelf life¡ªthe husk of her biggest loss?

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 2: Different Angle

    Theta had impeccable vision.

    Perhaps that¡¯s why he saw the eternal auroras for what they were: gorgeous.

    Luminous red and green brooks capered the sky''s inky canvas, the afternoon sunlight shadowed by the mystic hues. Dotted across the neighbourhood skyline were birds¡ªeveryday enigmas that flew in different sizes, shapes, and elements. Like the oxygen in the air, the chirps were barbed and broken, yet all still breathed them, and no one died.

    ¡°So what¡¯s the problem?¡± Theta wondered aloud, his dog-button nose grazing on the balmy climate that seeped through the open window. As he leaned onto the sill, he took in everything: the hissing of the stove in the kitchen next door, the savoury tang of rice, and the peppery palette of shrimp and calamari that hung on his tongue. Everything that held taste and intrigue was food for thought to him; the troublesome sirens that hummed countless streets away were of no substance. There was a certain peace in exploration, his chestnut eyes sparkling as he swept more shrimp tails from the flooding bowl in his hairy hands and popped them into his mouth.

    It was a familiar flavour, but never left something to be desired.

    Peace.

    ¡°Would we need to pay for these animals, if I may ask?¡± A low, feminine voice sounded mildly behind him, accompanied by the tender sipping of boiled tea. ¡°The page didn¡¯t really say much.¡±

    Theta shut his eyes, reeling from the window to place his bowl on the dining table behind him. He gazed out into the glowing shrubbery outside and processed the question with ease.

    ¡°Putting a price on hopeless animals is criminal,¡± Theta replied coolly, crusty fingernails scratching against his shaggy beard like chalk on a blackboard.

    ¡°Oh, true, true, my apologies¡ª¡±

    ¡°I bet you also thought my post looked shady as hell¡ª¡±he cackled huskily, shifting his buff stature towards the doe-eyed woman sat patiently at the table¡ª¡±and I don¡¯t blame ya because my wife took a jab at it too!¡ª¡±

    ¡°I hurried to an ATM as well¡­¡± the woman breathed, an awkward laugh laced into her unease to match this unusual bear in front of her. She sighed into her steaming cup, a gurgle of satisfaction hitting her throat as she lowered the tea. There was a certain peace in her expression, her azure irises piercing with understanding as she wore a dignified demeanor that shone even when she was briskly wiping tea and saliva from her chin with the back of her hand.

    Despite the circumstances, it was a favorable fervor; she held an evident desire. It was tasteful, so by nature, the man would poke his nose into the matter.

    ¡°Thought this was a robbery?¡± Theta probed, shuffling into a seat.

    ¡°Partly¡­ partly¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll eat wood¡ªwith this level of hospitality?¡ª¡±

    ¡°I think that¡¯s shrimp fried rice Mrs. Eta is cooking, isn¡¯t it?¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s godly¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right, that may increase the hospitality points by a bit,¡± the woman said, resting her cheek on slender fingers and playing a coy smile.

    ¡°You¡¯re witty¡ª¡± Theta grinned mischievously, fiddling with a piece of calamari ¡ª¡°and still showed up to what you thought was a robbery?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ guess so¡ªI was in a hurry¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, this is very much a real deal, so you can hold your money¡ª¡±

    ¡°Thank you¡ª¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re coming into this with a¡­ pretty, uh, lighthearted composure,¡± Theta observed, resting his head on clasped hands as he inched close with curiosity to stare deep into her personality¡ªlike a book. ¡°You¡¯re obviously aware of the biz you¡¯re getting yourself into. Harmonization Culture is no joke¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a bloody effin thing¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, it is¡ª¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re¡­ fine?¡±

    The woman pursed her lips, exhaling lightly through her nose. She ran a hand through her blonde locks, indulging in her tea to gulp down the loaded question. She let the liquid simmer at the mouth of the cup before bringing it down to the table. As if she had thrown caution to the wind eons ago, she beamed at the older man and swiped at her chin again.

    ¡°I¡¯ll face obvious difficulties if I do go along with the whole Harmonization thing¡ª¡±

    ¡°I see¡ª¡±

    ¡°Though I must if I want to protect my family.¡±

    Theta digested the information and nodded, nibbling on calamari like the butt of a cigarette.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°That¡¯s honourable¡ª¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the woman stressed.

    Theta furrowed his brow.

    ¡°Eh?¡ª¡±

    ¡°What I¡¯m doing is anything but honourable¡ª¡± she scrubbed her forehead with her palms, her voice straining with a pang of frustration¡ª¡±and God, I wish there was another way to go about this.¡±

    There was a quietude as warm winds swept through the room, the woman delving back into her tea with hunched shoulders. Theta felt like he was in her bubble for a second; he had just read an abstract. He grounded his lofty mind and understood the surface-level details of her character. His mind wandered and discerned potholes in the psyche she presented to him, laying out inviting insights into her unconscious¡ªall on a silver platter. He¡¯d jump into these potholes soon enough; he always did.

    The man broke out of his rigorous stupor as the woman in front of him coughed down her now-finished drink.

    ¡°Sorry¡ªapologies for that¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, Ms. Ryd.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°Can I please, uh¡­ have more tea?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t even have to ask! Take! Take!¡± Theta barked jovially, amused by the lightning-fast speed at which the woman grasped the kettle and filled her cup not even milliseconds after his response. She drank her umpteenth fill like a junkie.

    That made two of them.

    His toothy grin flattened into an easy smile, processing the conversation in his mind that never ceased to come to a halt. Even when he was stagnant, chewing rampantly at his seafood, he kept traversing his thoughts and wringing his brain.

    The bell rang.

    The woman¡¯s eyes instantly locked onto the door¡¯s direction, raring and daring.

    The flabby tufts of the cat ears that sprouted out of Theta¡¯s head twitched echos after, urging the man to scrape the chair behind him and shoot up promptly. He turned his head towards the woman training her sights on the door, adjusting his loose-fitting vest over the small round of his belly and slipping his Croslite clogs onto his mangled feet. He scratched his scruffy hair, from which flakes fell, but his intrigue and confusion rose.

    He had to tread carefully.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a very angelic route to take in life,¡± Theta commented while trudging past the woman, who now shifted her dilated pupils towards him. He noticed her suddenly damp forehead and made a mental note to close the window later. Putting a close to any sliver of unease she had was near to impossible; this was a glaring entrance to being swallowed by society¡¯s underbelly. However, he knew he was smart, so he had absolute faith in his creed¡ªa scientific reassurance. ¡°Though, I assure you that once you three are seated, I¡¯ll bring upon you a fantastic doctrine of sorts that may just help even the weak-hearted get into the Harmonization mindset.¡±

    The woman slowly stood up out of some instinct, clasping the chair¡¯s cross rail with heightened security. She watched Theta stomp through the corridor, leaning forward as the rich mahogany door of the front entrance was swung open by the brute.

    She became rigid.

    ¡°Ah! Welcome! Welcome!¡± Theta roared, hailing the more tepid guests and ushering them out of the foyer. ¡°Ms. Ryd is already here!¡±

    The woman strained her eyes and caught a fair glimpse of the two newcomers plodding through the doorway. There was a tall man, bald and bulky¡ªwoolly white turtleneck, red sweatpants, and Converse shoes. He looked drawn¡ªawkward and unfamiliar¡ªbut he still managed to shake the older man¡¯s gauntlet of a hand with a lopsided smile.

    This stranger looked too casual; he posed zero threat. She slackened.

    ¡°Wait, my labcoat¡ªhun, are you almost done with that rice!?¡± Theta exclaimed, hopping tirelessly on the spot after floundering for the stairway.

    ¡°I¡¯ll dish it out in a minute!¡± A lady¡¯s neighbourly voice sounded from another room. ¡°Get your act together, oaf¡ª¡±

    ¡°Love you!¡± Theta then scuttled up the steps, his trousers sagging as he raced up the lane of photographs. A treacherous peep by the three other adults graced them with the unsightly sight of the older man¡¯s exposed boxers.

    He disappeared, but the bewilderment lingered.

    The woman¡¯s stance loosened fully, her rosy cheeks ballooning as she stifled spits of laughter.

    ¡°Jesus Christ¡­¡± The bald man exhaled tiredly, his reddened eyes widening at the ceiling in disbelief. ¡°Father God¡ªwhat the hell did we just accept?¡±

    The woman stared up from her half-squat with a friendly smile, fully revealing herself to the other guests by popping herself out into the corridor. However, her smile wavered, her sight falling onto the second figure her now-constricting pupils couldn¡¯t notice. The figure was hooded, drenched from head to toe in black clothes, and latched tightly onto the arm of the man.

    She saw no eyes¡ªjust boreholes in grisly purple skin that housed muted wisps of light.

    This figure wasn¡¯t loud, so they appeared small to her. She still knew that that was a human, so she¡¯d approach the situation normally.

    She held her gaze for too long, noticing the figure¡¯s grip tighten.

    Her pupils were back to normal, and there was some uncanny safety. To avoid prolonging the silence, she decided to open up.

    ¡°I prefer a weirdo dealer to be honest with you,¡± the woman jested, approaching the guests with more pep in her step. The man tilted his head downward to inspect the woman, wearing a surprised look. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the other figure swiftly turn to the man before looking back at her. The mood was difficult to read, but she didn¡¯t worry. She scrubbed her clammy palms against her jeans, lifting her hand towards the astonished man and maintaining strong eye contact with both of them. ¡°You guys got tricked too?¡±

    The man blinked in response to her hearty laughter and shook the hand, returning the chuckle. The purple figure clutched tighter at his sleeve.

    ¡°If we¡¯ve been had, then at least I can say that I am absolutely overjoyed to see whatever that was running up the stairs,¡± he scoffed, earning a chortle from the woman and an affectionate, bloodcurdling squeeze from his companion. As far as he knew, he cherished his life, so he took his partner¡¯s subtle cue with utmost importance. ¡°Name is Sinjin Ingram, and this is my girlfriend, Cosima Manco.¡±

    The grip became more benign.

    The other woman nodded silently in understanding, interrupted by rampant thumping from upstairs.

    ¡°Tanairy Ryd, it¡¯s a pleasure!¡± the blonde responded, shaking Sinjin¡¯s hand once more before shifting to Cosima. However, there was a sense of resistance from the hooded woman, who only managed a minuscule hand wave before tugging at Sinjin¡¯s sleeve. Understanding the situation, Tanairy withdrew her hand and reciprocated the wave. ¡°May we get along well?¡±

    ¡°Likewise, likewise,¡± Sinjin replied steadily, gritting his teeth as he inspected the furniture around them.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ sure.¡± That¡¯s all Cosima could muster. In her marred mind, Tanairy had too much and had it too easy.

    She pulls off a blonde bob cut well.

    Her cheekbones¡­ are quite defined.

    Her body¡­ is very slim.

    Those blue eyes are abnormally attractive¡ªthey probably caught Sin¡¯s attention.

    Blue trench vest, crop top, ripped jeans¡­

    It all fits. Who the hell is she trying to impress?

    The thoughts were all streamlined to a single word Cosima abhorred: ¡®attractive¡¯.

    She stayed small, watching the other two engage in trivial yet causal conversation regarding the house.

    She grimaced and took a different angle.

    Her eyebrows are hairy¡ªthat¡¯s undeniable.

    That nose is a bit too pointy¡­

    She¡¯s outgoing¡­ but she looks sweaty. Is this a facade?

    Seriously, does she shave her brows?

    Sin likes brunettes.

    Nosejob.

    It was then that she realized that she wasn¡¯t as tickled pink as the other woman.

    So, her brooding became more colorful.

    ¡°Right! Sorry for the wait!¡±

    The three adults shook at the boom of the call, their thoughts at a standstill. Theta lumbered down the marble stairs, staring at them all with a haughty gaze. Barefoot, worn-out vest, greasy hair, patchy beard¡ªall culminated in his inelegance. However, as he wore the white epitome of rhyme and reason, he looked more reputable yet didn¡¯t exalt his image with all other things considered.

    It was clear that he was more concerned with concepts beyond himself; he was careless in his presentation. Though, despite what may be perceived of him, he knew he was smart.

    ¡°My wife¡¯s cooked us up a feast,¡± Theta boasted, pinching his dog nose as if he were attempting to pick up more of the aroma. ¡°So let¡¯s talk this over lunch. I¡¯m not oblivious to the many worries you three most definitely have, but trust me when I say this: I know the method to all the Harmonization madness, in and out!¡±

    He noticed the incredulity that shaped their stares, but deep down, he knew there was a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

    Because in a world where hope is hidden in insurmountable haystacks, any bite-sized opportunity had to be eaten, or else starvation was inevitable.

    Akin to a seraph, he¡¯d shine a new light on them.

    After all, he¡¯s a man of impeccable vision.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 3: Diecasting Call

    Cosima never got to pick her poison.

    Like the shrimp fried rice she poked at, powers beyond her tended to dictate the course of her life. From her family down to her vocation, she rolled with every punch. Though, now with a raw-boned body that couldn¡¯t perform the bare minimum of carrying itself, even the most gentle breezes could crumple her past physical deformity and leave her obsolete.

    Her career revolved around withstanding heat, but now she¡¯d let the boon within her reach go cold. Free will, or simply the waking call of life¡ªshe became unsuitable for the bigger fish she habitually fried and ate.

    She had to settle for so much less, having drunk from small vials before being doused in the cauldron of misfortune.

    She was forced to bite off more than she could digest. Why eat more?

    Tanairy didn¡¯t help ease her dissatisfaction. She vacuumed the food as if it were going to disappear at a moment¡¯s notice, one hand stuck in front of her face to cloak her ballooned cheeks and rampant chewing. Her fork was always in motion, scraping the plate faster than the rest of the room, followed by Theta¡¯s crunchy chewing.

    Counteractively, Sinjin was admirably modest in his manners¡ªas always and as expected. The same applied to Theta¡¯s wife, who joined the table, flora burgeoning out of her left eye as her husband rambled her green ear off.

    Then there was Cosima: stagnant.

    ¡°Cosimama?¡±

    She heeded the whisper next to her, coming face-to-face with her boyfriend¡¯s focused yet perturbed expression. The message was there, but she crooked further into the hollow husk of her mind to avoid reading it. Unfortunately, he¡¯d look away if she hid and would entertain himself with more superior sights nearby; it was always a low bar with her. His attention was infallible as long as she brought him back to reality and gave him something to care about. She¡¯d speak.

    ¡°Not hungry,¡± Cosima spurted in the sea of background chatter, clattering, and creaking. She could feel it¡ªhis watchful gaze. It felt blank in some places, reminiscent of moments when he¡¯d lose himself in his thoughts and surrender his head to the clouds that plagued the skies beyond insurmountable apartment confines. It was an alien normalcy that she reluctantly accepted. However, in this dining area where many beings sat and time slugged, she transported her mind back into the homey depression of a dark bedroom; only two variables existed there.

    Sinjin and her.

    ¡°Try eating.¡± His low voice was calmingly solemn. ¡°It¡¯s tasty; it¡¯s a disservice not to try it.¡±

    She attempted to drown out the other voices to filter only Sinjin¡¯s into her mind.

    ¡°I know, but¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve barely eaten today.¡±

    She was aware. Sinjin cared, though; that kept her fed.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± she quietly hummed, another fruitless attempt to dodge the truth. Sinjin gave her his sweetest eye roll and tongue click.

    ¡°If everyone¡¯s eating, then you gotta eat. Don¡¯t be odd¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°At least try, just don¡¯t¡­ stand out much, ¡®kay? We both know that that¡¯s not what you want¡ª¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ask for seconds too¡ª¡±

    ¡°What? But¡ª¡±

    ¡°When you need it. You¡¯re just holding yourself back.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±

    Sinjin wore annoyance on his smiling face, both having performed another bout of dry banter that felt natural nowadays, another standard of the dark room Cosima adopted.

    It felt like they were alone in the silence: no air conditioning, still curtains, and snoozing electronics. However, the immersion shattered at the thunderous clap of Theta¡¯s grizzly palms, the room in her mind collapsing as soon as Sinjin averted his gaze.

    She now felt hungry.

    ¡°Al-right! I should start; no more stalling!¡± Theta boomed, hovering over everyone dining at the table. He flicked and straightened his lab coat flamboyantly. ¡°I want us to get to the real meat and juice as quickly as possible, but I have a brief lecture to give you, newbies.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, hun. Ms. Ryd?¡± Theta¡¯s wife began, her one hazel eye landing on Tanairy, who was retreating into her chair slowly after pouncing at the centre pot for another serving. ¡°I can serve you.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s fine¡ª¡±Tanairy scooped her barren plate up¡ª¡±I can do it¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve eaten so much that I think it¡¯d be best for you to sit; I¡¯ll help¡ª¡±

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°It¡¯s really good¡ªapologies, Miss.¡± Tanairy fidgeted with her sleeve with a reddened face.

    ¡°It¡¯s Danae, and eat as much as you please.¡± Theta¡¯s wife commented with wrinkly contentment, sweeping bristly brown hair strands from her shrubbed eye. ¡°Now¡ª¡±

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll start the explanations! So¡ª¡±

    An overflow of leafy vines ruptured out of Danae¡¯s eye, spiralling towards the steaming pot with the fluidity of octopus tentacles. The discomfort expressed by the other adults, except a moping Theta, was further heightened by the reeking miasma that retched from the woman¡¯s eye in the form of tree sap, tears, and deep crimson. The cluster of vines encircled the pot and secured it, with two of the tendrils wrapping around the handle of the rice serving spoon under the pot¡¯s lid. Then, with a crease in her forehead, Danae manoeuvred the spoon above Tanairy¡¯s plate. The sound of rice and shrimp piling onto the plate was soft, accompanied by the wooden screech of a nearby chair, strained yelps, and the rumbling of plates.

    Yet another standard, a disturbing one that still shivered spines.

    ¡°Are you all alright?¡± Danae queried leisurely, sitting cross-legged in her chair as the vulgar texture from her flowery eye wet her pastel vest and lap. With unceremonious care, she swiped the back of her hand across her cheek, pale skin painted by the mixture as the gushing halted at the freezing of the vines. The skin and muscles around her eye squawked and writhed before dying out. She surveyed the room.

    Tanairy sprawled on the floor, her chest drumming to a vigorous rhythm as her bright, azure irises swelled like the bulging flower on Danae¡¯s face. The blonde was breathing out of parched lips¡ªfists braced as her reddened face dewed and deepened. Her nails drew blood.

    Sinjin arched over his chair, his shivering eyes becoming more bloodshot. He gritted his teeth, pursing his lips and puffing out a breath of relief as he watched Danae slowly retract her vines and pick at tissues from a box on a shelf. He eyed Cosima, whose hooded figure bunched next to him defensively. The weak fire in her sockets quivered, sparking in eagerness.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you all have seen much worse, given the obvious situation of the world,¡± Danae said, shifting carefully to Tanairy¡¯s side and dabbing at her uncertain palm. The blonde hissed, spit flying, urging Danae to wipe the woman¡¯s mouth with the cleaner side of the tissue. ¡°I do apologize for the scare, though. No intentions of harm.¡±

    Tanairy revulsed, watching Danae pay no mind to the gunk that sputtered out of her eye.

    ¡°Y-Your eye, Miss! Don¡¯t focus on me¡ª¡±

    ¡°This is normal, just like the mutations we have all faced, some worse than others.¡± Danae flicked the used tissue to the side and helped Tanairy get back on her feet, coming face to face with Sinjin and Cosima, the latter curling into herself at the words. ¡°Humans, animals, plants¡ªyou name it. Due to this weird radioactive event, all living things are capable of fusion, and just like that, we have power, hence messed-up ideals like the Harmonization Culture.¡±

    Danae glanced at Theta behind her; the sullen man crossed his arms and wore impatience on his professional sleeve.

    ¡°Power adds to the inequality we¡¯ve created between every species on Earth, and as humans stand at the top of¡­ well, all things, we must acknowledge our superiority and adopt a simple philosophy that my husband and I hold¡ª¡±

    ¡°Pity.¡± Theta snapped his fingers. ¡°Let me do the explaining, woman¡ª¡±

    ¡°You really need to learn how to segue into this stuff, oaf,¡± Danae scoffed with a cocky sneer.

    ¡°But you scared the effin schnitzel out of them¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to do a lecture, make the transition from peaceful picnic to dark crud smoother¡ª¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s just a whole bunch of stalling!¡±

    ¡°Just get better at the segues¡ª¡±

    ¡°You and your segues.¡±

    They stared daggers at one another.

    Then the couple chuckled like nutcases.

    The other three adults gave shaky looks at one another. Regardless of their differences, they were each on the same wavelength of disorientation. Sinjin rubbed his scalp, cocking an eyebrow at the display. They were weird; sugarcoating words weren¡¯t his modus operandi. However, he could sense that there was an air of familiarity about them. Despite their age and business, they seemed relaxed and, by extension, knowledgeable of the components, tension, and strength of the ropes that held society in place.

    Harmonization Culture.

    He glimpsed at Cosima¡ªfrozen and silent¡ªand affirmed his question and interruption, remembering who he was fighting for.

    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the philosophy?¡± Sinjin interjected, stopping the laughter that the couple exuded. ¡°We¡¯re much calmer and ready to hear you out any time now.¡±

    Theta and Danae looked at each other knowingly, the burly man patting her shoulder as he approached the three adults.

    ¡°I¡¯ll start with some of the dishes; make sure to explain this well¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of course. I¡¯ll explain as we walk to the room where the animals lie,¡± Theta declared, gesturing for the three to follow him towards the stairs. ¡°Kills two birds with one stone and will give them a better grasp of our family philosophy.¡±

    He took small steps up the stairs, and soon enough, the other three followed suit with only the slightest iota of hesitation. It almost felt mindless: listening to vague advertisements, accepting the mysterious hospitality of a stranger, and trailing said stranger up the now ominous stairs.

    Like cattle to a shepherd, they drew to a pitchfork. Like moths to a flame, they were enamored by the light.

    They scraped the tip of the iceberg; why stop there?

    They began following Theta across a hallway flanked by an array of hanging apparatus and doors, and then he spoke.

    ¡°I believe this world should run on pity,¡± he began, stroking his shaggy beard with firm fingers. ¡°We should come to terms with the superiority of our species and help whatever lies below us; I¡¯m a man of nature. My wife is too.¡±

    Silence. Footsteps.

    ¡°Branching from that, I also believe we should do every living thing a service.¡± Theta tapped his button snout before motioning to the saggy feline ears protruding from his head. ¡°I harmonized with my dying bloodhound years ago and did the same with a two-legged caracal cat in South Africa.¡±

    Faint noises. Footsteps.

    ¡°We should strive to keep things with a will to live alive, and well, those two I listed that got struck with radiation¡ª¡±he strained his eyes¡ª¡±had no will to live, so they had to die.¡±

    Faint cries. Uneasy footsteps.

    ¡°That¡¯s wrong!¡±

    In the growing darkness of the hall, Tainary¡¯s protest was soon followed by the coruscating sheen of her blue eyes, which illuminated their surroundings. Beautiful yet strung to a distinct sense of resentment.

    The rest stared at her in evident awe, watching her breathing hitch rapidly.

    ¡°Call me optimistic, but shouldn¡¯t we slowly remove the inequality you speak of? Isn¡¯t that why we should save even the suicidal ones!?¡± The blonde fought tears akin to this losing battle, the older man giving her an unusually sympathetic and calm look.

    ¡°For humans, yes, we can try. For the nature I love, from the animals to the plants, then no. Like a dog with rabies, some things must die, and it¡¯s our job as superior beings to deal with what¡¯s best for others.¡± He eyed a particular door and ambled towards it with the guidance of Tanairy¡¯s luminescence. ¡®We must live our lives preserving humanity in order to help nature and have appreciation in our hearts.¡±

    Cries of agony. Faulty footsteps.

    ¡°I¡­ half-jest with the whole ¡®superior¡¯ schtick.¡± Theta turned to the three, the adults shaken to the core by the shrill groans from the other side of the door. ¡°Even as a faithful scientist, I¡¯ve started dabbling in the realm of pseudoscience, which other loyalists fail to acknowledge, despite the almost¡­ fictional radiation happening to this planet.¡±

    He twisted the door knob.

    ¡°So, you and I should expand our horizons and expect anything and everything,¡± Theta said, kicking the door into motion. ¡°Just like the newfound remedy to the physical effects of radiation, let your mind be open to endless possibilities and impossibilities. Be it an overthrowing of the human race, death, et cetera. Even the fact that I managed to pull people willing to undergo this path was something out of the range of possibility that is now possible.¡±

    The door creaked open.

    ¡°That¡¯s my philosophy: do everything a good service.¡±

    Now fully open, they all peered inside.

    In the growing darkness of the room, Cosima was quick to mistake it for the shady solitude of her bedroom¡ªthe shelf life she was doomed to from the day her skin expired.

    However, like the scenery that unfurled in front of her, she felt foreign, and the immersion broke once again.

    All that stood out in this room were three standards.

    A warty toad squirmed on the cold floor, its life jetting out of its body as a colossal metallic tube akin to the barrel of a cannon bulged out of its wide mouth. It choked endlessly, green sludge hawking from the tube¡¯s tip, mixing with the red splattered around its feet.

    A hulking tortoise dragged its abnormally long neck around, mewling dissonantly at a far-gone saving grace. Its bruised legs buckled under the weight of its impenetrable shell, the mystic grandeur of a pair of vermillion draconic wings ripping out of the broken keratin.

    A red-spotted salamander lolled painfully, a garden of monstrous flower bulbs spewing out of its small stature. At each hackle, it put visible pheromones into the rusty air and almost put itself out of its misery by trying to live.

    ¡°Pick your poison,¡± Theta announced.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 4: Showroom Kill

    Pity wasn¡¯t medicine.

    Giving broken things consolation never sealed any cracks; life on Earth learned that the hard way. Even when people set out to broker themselves a life of security and bliss, they¡¯ll still succumb to the hell of radiation.

    The impassionate forces that choreographed this anarchic play were callous, celestial puppeteers juggling the strings of all things damned. Apologies could foster so much heart but fail to give decaying beings a reviving breath.

    Their eyes could grieve all they wanted. Their mouths could gasp all they wanted. Their minds could weep all they wanted.

    The animals would die; such destiny coursed through the bile they spewed. There was no anger behind their tortured eyes¡ªonly an urgency to perish.

    ¡°Hurry,¡± Theta sighed perfunctorily, glancing between the desolate looks the three adults gave and the equally grim appearances of the animals. ¡°You each get to harmonize with one of them; don¡¯t concern yourself with the ethics. No matter how you try to look at it, these animals want nothing more than to die.¡±

    The toad croaked phlegm. The tortoise cried as its abnormal wings folded into themselves. The salamander breathed its excretions.

    ¡°And that¡¯s a fact.¡± Theta folded his arms with a casual flourish, brooding and expecting. ¡°So?¡±

    Cosima was a victim of facts. Having led her life with bountiful acceptance in her soul, she had come to differentiate between variables and constants; her path had definite roadblocks. If someone didn¡¯t like how she presented herself, she¡¯d swallow the poison and pursue the necessary measures to circumvent the blemish.

    She found herself peering at the creatures more than she needed to. Everything shown to her felt shallow¡ªfragile bodies and weak spirits. These were clearly facts, and she didn¡¯t dare to doubt them.

    That¡¯s what scared her¡ªshe felt too familiar. In this dark room where the animals suffered, it felt like¡ªby some esoteric punishment¡ªthat she was gazing into a reflection.

    Somehow, on the first day of her newfound commitment, the pity that Theta explained turned into a feeling that would eat her like the reflections.

    Crap.

    Empathy.

    She stumbled, feeling like she had just overdosed.

    A hand held her in place, however. She glanced up at Sinjin, who looked blank but had a stone-faced expression that wrapped over the disgust in his squinted eyes.

    ¡°Cosimama, make the call if you need to.¡±

    The whisper was cold.

    She understood the intention.

    I shouldn¡¯t regret this at all; this is the only way.

    She scratched her coarse skin, letting putrid air flow out of her mouth in a sigh as she considered finally grasping at straws.

    ¡°I think we have to do this¡ª¡°

    ¡°You¡¯ve considered everything, right?¡± Sinjin interjected, eyebrows lowering in direness. ¡°This whole culture ain¡¯t new, y¡¯know? We know that people die from taking this route.¡±

    ¡°What other option do we have? We¡ª¡°

    ¡°I have my answer¡­ I just need yours¡ª¡°

    ¡°Sin, I know what I want¡ª¡°

    ¡°I know what you want to do, and trust me; I always have your decision in mind¡ª¡°

    ¡°Yeah¡ª¡°

    ¡°But if we¡¯re gonna do this, I need you to understand the full consequences of the actions you¡¯ll take.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, yeah.¡±

    ¡°Think it over now. Carefully.¡±

    They let an uncomfortable yet intimate silence pass by.

    ¡°Thank you, Sin.¡±

    Sinjin wore both appreciation and weariness on his face, loosening his protective grip on his girlfriend.

    She was now stable. Despite the empathy that plagued her, she let her mind pinpoint the pros and cons of her actions.

    Death, disgust, and pain¡ªall that is obvious. Yeah.

    Cosima twisted a dry hair strand with her free hand.

    The biggest pro is that I find an animal or something housing the cure, but it¡¯s considered rare, no?

    She dipped her face out of her hoodie to glimpse more at the deformities on the floor.

    It¡¯s a freaking cruel world.

    That was something she knew didn¡¯t need to be said.

    The toad caught her eye. It choked on the cannon. Soon enough, it felt like it would stop moving. Its short life hung on a thin thread, inevitably becoming a tool to help one of the three adults progress.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    No. Hell no. I can¡¯t stay still.

    She clutched harder at Sinjin¡¯s sleeve.

    I need this.

    Cosima shivered, having moved a tad more than her body would allow her.

    If this will be my lifestyle for a while, I¡¯ll need to adapt.

    ¡°Sin.¡± Cosima turned to Sinjin, managing to spot him gazing at Tanairy, who stood aloof nearby. The blonde¡¯s eyes still gleamed a vibrant blue, the light shining through the beads of tears that prickled at the sides. Her nails would possibly open up the recent wound. Her face wrinkled in ire, and her stare was intense.

    Contradicting the warm nature she put out during the first greeting, she appeared ungraceful and severely unrefined.

    Why is he so drawn to her?

    Without hesitation, Cosima tugged at her boyfriend midway into his shift of focus from the blonde to her.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°I want this, Sin.¡± There. He¡¯s focused again now.

    Sinjin blinked inattentively before smiling and nodding at her with melancholy.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll do this too,¡± Sinjin agreed. ¡°It¡¯s not ideal; we¡¯ll obviously try our best to minimize the amount of¡­ crazy crud we get into.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°Good, so it¡¯s settled¡ª¡°

    A resonant sniffle slurred from Tanairy, the woman wiping at her burning eyes with a swift thumb swing.

    She breathed in. Then she breathed out.

    Her eyes slowly constricted as she repeated the breathing exercise.

    ¡°Right, I¡¯m ready.¡± Tanairy breathed hotly through pursed lips, screwing her sight onto the animals before facing the other two adults. ¡°How are we going to do this?¡±

    ¡°Are you doing, uh, well there?¡± Sinjin queried, putting up a cordial thumbs up. Cosima tensed.

    ¡°Oh, yeah, don¡¯t worry¡ª¡±Tanairy waved her hand dismissively¡ª¡±about me. I just got a bit emotional¡ªI¡¯m fine now.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t blame you. It¡¯s messed.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ we gotta do what we gotta do.¡± Tanairy rubbed her arm awkwardly.

    ¡°I won¡¯t say it¡¯s a necessity. After all that has happened,¡± Sinjin groaned.

    A much-needed pause.

    ¡°I feel you. I really, really do,¡± Tanairy agreed before forcing a soft smile. ¡°It¡¯s not ideal, but let¡¯s try to make this work.¡±

    Cosima became more rigid.

    ¡°Agreed.¡± Sinjin pinched the bridge of his nose. ¡°This is wrong¡ªGod.¡±

    Another pause.

    ¡°Well,¡± Tanairy began, moving her gaze from Sinjin down to Cosima. Her dimples became more pronounced. ¡°I¡¯m fine with picking last.¡±

    Cosima grimaced internally. How could she possibly become tenser?

    Her shoulders suddenly felt heavy, swelling further as she became the target of Tanairy¡¯s overly gentle smile. The magical light in her eyes was ever-present, but it felt that even without it, Cosima would be blinded by what she perceived as a foreboding force. The other woman stood too tall for her liking, with her skin fairer and hair cleaner than hers. It almost looked like she had nothing to worry about¡ªnot even a sliver of care in the demeanour flaunted.

    In Cosima¡¯s state¡ªregardless of her expertise in appearances¡ªTanairy would be the bare bones of perfection.

    A thought erupted, and the cold room didn¡¯t stop the heat from rising under her black collar.

    Why does she feel so¡­

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Sinjin said, nodding to Tanairy with an understanding look. He turned to Cosima, hooded and closed off. The kind look he gave her didn¡¯t tear her away from Tanairy¡¯s front. ¡°Want to pick first?¡±

    Condescending.

    To her, it was like another overdose just being in her line of sight. So when Tanairy diverted her focus away from her and towards the animals, short-lived relief washed over her.

    Sinjin doing the same, however, was crushing.

    It crushed her back to what the supernatural forces forged her to be: an oddity. The unfaithful empathy chewed on her, and soon¡ªlike these dying abominations¡ªshe¡¯d be eaten up and left in the thick void of stagnancy.

    Dejected, she inspected the floor; the other two adults were normal.

    Like ravenous clockwork, preying on Tanairy was a reflex she readily accepted at the moment. As she noticed that Sinjin¡¯s hand lingered near hers, she believed she couldn¡¯t stay still.

    If this is the only way to fix me, I won¡¯t let her look down on me.

    Her blood bubbled as she gazed from the floor at her available choices.

    I could give up now, but¡ªhell freaking no. I will use this chance to make the best choice.

    She seethed.

    Anything to get me out of this body and keep Sin away from this loose cannon¡­

    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go first,¡± Cosima huffed gutturally, acknowledging the distaste of agreeing to the other woman¡¯s suggestion. However, the eyes finally landed on her, quickly shattering the obscure shell that had concealed her. On the pedestal given to her, she felt as if she could finally take hold of the final straw as she whipped around to a calculating Theta, awaiting their responses with glee like a school teacher. ¡°Can I get a summary of these animals?¡±

    Theta furrowed a brow.

    ¡°You sure can ask obvious questions that are clearly surface-level,¡± he responded sarcastically, smirking playfully at the sickly woman. ¡°But I suppose I¡¯ll give the rundown: a toad that expectorates stomach acid at high speeds from a mouth tube, a tortoise with funky-looking dragon wings, and a salamander shooting cannabis out of its spine.¡±

    ¡°Is it¡­ cannabis?¡± Tanairy asked.

    ¡°Those rafflesia bulbs may as well be pooping it out; I got hit with those pheromones once, and the effect was very¡­ inhibitory.¡± Theta inched closer to all of them. ¡°As I said, and as you three know already, expect everything. Be aware that the unreal exists and make use of it.¡±

    He frowned at the three animals.

    ¡°Analyze as many characteristics as you can. As long as you don¡¯t have your hands on the new remedy, every single harmonization is practically irreversible.¡±

    A cold sweat befell the three amateurs¡ªanother piece of common knowledge that always held weight. The air nipped at their skin as they assessed the choices, even with their layering.

    It didn¡¯t stop Cosima from immersing herself in the atmosphere.

    I need the best bang for my buck.

    She eyed the toad.

    High-speed acids with the con of a cannon that is large¡­

    She eyed the tortoise.

    Wings for flight. A potential add-on is the high endurance of the shell. That Theta only went to the wings.

    She eyed the salamander.

    I¡¯m not the kind of person who can use those abilities well. I need, uh, something that hits hard.

    She eyed the golden opportunity.

    Just by being looked down upon, I¡¯m able to pick what is definitely the strongest one.

    ¡°I shall pick the toad.¡± She didn¡¯t elaborate further. The two next to her froze up at the little to no lack of hesitation. She could hear Theta¡¯s satisfied hum nearby as if she had hit all the right buttons. The toad made a hum too, and despite the grotesque display, Cosima shuffled in front of it and looked down on it.

    It will be painful. But oh, hell, is it the right choice.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with the tortoise,¡± Sinjin stammered, earning his share of quizzical stares. His bloodshot eyes quivered at the sight of the tortoise, which couldn¡¯t even carry its flailing neck. ¡°If it¡¯s¡­ going to die like this, I¡¯ll be able to make use of the hard shell and flight.¡±

    Cosima rejoiced in her head.

    ¡°I feel, however, that those¡­ weird dragon wings leave something to be desired. So I feel¡­ this poor thing has more to it than meets the eye,¡± Sinjin explained, rubbing his damp scalp. ¡°Hope that¡¯s fine with you, Tanairy?¡±

    Cosima repulsed in her head.

    Why are you concerned, Sin? From what I see, you picked a versatile option. The salamander isn¡¯t something to underestimate, but its applications are less apparent.

    ¡°No worries, I¡¯m fine with the salamander,¡± Tanairy answered humbly, beaming sympathetically at the animal. She frowned as she noticed how it scuttled in distress at the bright light from her eyes. On impulse, she hovered her hand over her vision, shielding the mutant from more torture and covering the fresh onslaught of tears. ¡°I¡¯ll do it a good service. I¡¯ll make sure of it.¡±

    I respect the dedication. But in this world, you don¡¯t settle for the short end of the stick that easily.

    Theta hummed twice, each successive one growing in vigor.

    ¡°I must apologize, as this is obviously very inhumane for everyone¡ªwhether you choose to stick to this culture or not,¡± Theta said, acknowledging Tanairy¡¯s silent sobs, Sinjin¡¯s empty contemplation, and Cosima¡¯s hunched stance. ¡°However, this is simply the norm now, so we must get used to this absolute hellhole.¡±

    Sinjin squeezed Cosima¡¯s hand, embracing the impact of the following words.

    Cosima nodded to her boyfriend, knowing what he would ask.

    I¡¯m ready.

    ¡°Now,¡± Theta announced, holding his hand out. ¡°It¡¯s time for the harmonization procedure. We all should know how to ensnare things.¡±

    Like universal clockwork, the three adults outstretched their shaking hands towards their respective downtrodden beasts as if they were next in line for a spiritual blessing.

    Cosima had a shrivelled hand poised for the unsightly assimilation of her favored choice and had her other hand in Sinjin¡¯s grasp. She pressed his reddish fingers firmly, expressing that she felt fine.

    She was fully engaged now; a goal was in sight.

    I never knew I¡¯d stoop so low as to join people in something so sadistic.

    Cosima caught a glimpse of Tanairy¡¯s soul pouring relentlessly, a hurricane of emotions twisting in the blueness of her heart.

    But whatever spiral this path takes me on, I¡¯ll adapt.

    Their palms contorted.

    Sin. Let¡¯s keep focused, please.

    Their palms bubbled.

    Tanairy. Hold back the tears and learn from your mistake.

    Suddenly, the skin from their hands lurched forwards in a screeching flash, engulfing the animals and giving them their best service yet.

    To Cosima, it was almost as if she had eaten her reflection then and there.

    Pitying isn¡¯t medicine.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 5: Drawn Illustration

    The skin on his palms settled.

    His DNA morphed, feeling knowledge motor into his brain at speeds that rivalled the unhinged pace of his life.

    He despised the tinge of relief¡ªthe metallic drop of a dog collar was absent. It was another soul that nobody would weep for.

    It contributed nothing, however.

    It had power. It had personality. It had essence.

    Though, even when reduced to nothing but pure genetics, it didn¡¯t fulfill its purpose.

    He could assimilate so much, but it never seemed to quiet the loud light that pulsated from his bare chest.

    It was cold; he exposed himself to the world and consumed life. He couldn¡¯t bear any shame, even when his body lacked imperfections.

    He could still see the wrongs, though. His bones were too apparent, and his chest threatened to devour itself. His toes that inched out of dead socks gasped for gunk-ridden air, shivering on the torn hide of his sandals. The holes in his trousers put his ashy knees on display, which wailed for a break.

    But it felt better. A lot better than the radiation¡¯s alterations, all made possible by the one gift that caused him to run, buckle, and cry.

    This light.

    Disappear.

    Disappear¡ªGoddammit!

    He stumbled into the blistering walls of the dark alleyway, smearing red on the grey surface. His careworn breath became drowned out by the discord of whirring sirens and nettling shouts. The throbbing of fleeting footsteps from nooks and crannies he couldn¡¯t decipher made him nauseous.

    Glancing up at the serene auroras that shielded the setting sun didn¡¯t help¡ªthe light from his torso shone in hues similar to the cosmic display.

    It was disgusting, and if he didn¡¯t feel atomic in this world, he would paint the sky a different shade. But now pressed into the limelight and made into an illustration for wolfish gazes, he failed to be any bigger than he should be. He would be atomized further and become just like the being he engulfed.

    It wouldn¡¯t happen if he kept moving. If only there were space to breathe.

    The streets were home¡ªa doleful duvet that insulated the scurrying rats without labels.

    Now he had to come to a standstill and hide in his refuge.

    Whenever he scurried around, he did it alone. Whenever he ate, he did it alone. Whenever he speculated, he did it alone.

    The more he ran down concrete isles lined with debris-filled tents and cans he would haphazardly kick, the further he deviated from the fallacy of comfort he set as a standard.

    ¡°How the hell do I even¡­¡± the man snarled under his rotten breath, tearing at his sticky curls at his mistake of making even the slightest sound. His heart seared, forcing his brown teeth to clench as he watched a platoon of police cars plunder the roads from a clearing in the alley. The cue that made him twist his heels was the volley of protests and pebbles cutting towards the windows of the vehicles. The sight of roaring flames and a winged person parading the streets with other arcane silhouettes with abilities only fiction could describe made him turn tail.

    I¡¯m cornered¡ªhell no¡­

    His profanities brightened like the abhorred light as two men who were hunchbacked and battered bumbled into his visage.

    Then, with the eyes of his opposition callous, the delusion shattered. The unsurprising realization hit.

    He was homeless.

    No words needed to be said; the message was there. After all, a predator wouldn¡¯t waste words on prey.

    As soon as their eyes caught sight of the goal, they lunged for the light with hideous hands outstretched.

    The man wasted no time; he was bereft of chains. He switched on the instincts in his drawn mind.

    Croc tail¡­

    His pursuers¡¯ palms gurgled furiously.

    The man strained his vision.

    Ensnaring, right?

    Bubbly blankets of skin disgorged from their palms, creating crackling sounds that vibrated the air.

    Right.

    The skin hurled at him at high velocity. He¡¯d match it; adaptation defined his fast-paced life.

    So, at full throttle, the dark skin of the man¡¯s sacrum ruptured, forcing discharge to sputter out of his back. A bulky appendage gashed into the musty air, whetted by reptilian scales that fringed the fatty mass.

    Then he spun on his heel and turned his tail, revving its motion before slamming it into the impending sea of skin. He grew satisfied by the pained shrieks of his foes, the scales piercing the skin swiftly before sending it crashing into the tight alley walls. They¡¯re subdued.

    A thunderclap.

    The man flew into his hunters¡¯ visions, watching their mangled faces fail to process the speed.

    If only their lives were more unhinged than his, they¡¯d be as wary as him¡ªa weary man of no status suddenly becoming food for raptorial thoughts.

    So he¡¯d become the hunter and let the common hunger overcome him.

    He analyzed his foes¡¯ physiques.

    First man has nothing helpful on the surface.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    He caught a glimpse of a jagged protrusion from the second pursuer¡¯s shaven head.

    That looks sharp and helpful. Not sure what it is, but¡­

    The pursuers steeled themselves with disgruntled grunts. The one with the protrusion reacted. The deformity lifted towards his stomach.

    He¡¯d get stabbed.

    I¡¯ll take it.

    He watched the protrusion close.

    Can¡¯t make too much sound. I¡¯ll use something new.

    Fresh from his DNA¡ªat the speed of light¡ªsolid sediment manifested around the man¡¯s abdomen, the sharp protrusion ramming into the rocky spot of his chest. He winced, a tear falling from his squinted eyes as he slid onto the concrete below.

    The rocks on his chest crumbled, leaving little scratch marks around his besmirched belly button. The man clutched at his belly, feeling some of the cuts open.

    ¡°I need to work on that more.¡± He noticed the skin from the failed ensnaring attempt retracting to their palms. He huffed. ¡°No¡­¡±

    With a new instinct, he flicked his fingers backwards. Suddenly, tin cans hurtled into the backs of his pursuers, forcing squawks out of them.

    A distraction.

    Another thunderclap.

    His crocodile tail jammed into the men¡¯s skulls, the cries and cracks tickling his ears as he sent them plunging to the floor¡ªto a level where he felt he was at the apex.

    As he watched the men bleed out before him, his palm aimed at their bodies. However, he shifted his wan gaze and let it hover over the one with the growth protruding from his head.

    It was cold. The man was exposing himself to the world, ready to consume life.

    Did he need to shed shame? Could he shed shame? When would he shed shame?

    As long as the night around him stayed as loud as the light simmering in his torso, he¡¯d continue being small, where he couldn¡¯t cast off anything more.

    He suddenly held worth to the avaricious clutches.

    So he had to disappear, escape from relevancy, and remember something that wasn¡¯t as much of a delusion as he¡¯d hoped his whole life.

    It came back to him, and suddenly, he felt like he was on an equal or even lower playing field than the people he had just downed.

    He recalled how lonely it was at the bottom; it sobered him.

    With no time to spare shame and nothing to return to, he let his palms boil.

    Then ensnared his predators.

    <hr>

    Cosima remembered how the skin on her palms settled.

    Her DNA morphed, feeling knowledge motor into her brain at speeds that exceeded the unhinged slowness of her life.

    She despised the tinge of shame¡ªthe metallic cannon of the toad¡¯s jugular was present in her blood. It was a soul that she¡¯d been told to weep for.

    It contributed something, however.

    It had power. It had essence.

    When reduced to nothing but pure genetics, it fulfilled its purpose.

    However, despite only assimilating one being, it didn¡¯t seem to quiet the loud blight that pulsated from her hooded heart.

    It was cold; she hid herself from the world and consumed a life. She had to bear pity, though, even when her body was full of imperfections.

    It felt wrong, but she embraced the warmth outside, knowing she was an inch closer to turning over a new leaf.

    She felt ready.

    ¡°You guys even ready?¡± Theta questioned the three adults, slumping his weight onto the doorframe. There was silence, and understandably so, as Theta deduced from studying their stone faces. Even Tanairy¡ªwhom he¡¯d concluded was always one to avoid lateness with answers¡ªfailed to utter a coherent sentence, succumbing to faint mutters and unsure nods. He wanted answers. He always did. The man needed an add-on. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that having the gall to harmonize with something is one extreme, that¡¯s for sure¡­ but actually doing the transformations?¡±

    He sensed the discomfort radiating from the tensing adults, and after a few seconds, he grew satisfied at the movement of a wavering mouth.

    ¡°It hurts¡­ yeah.¡± Sinjin left it there. He dug his head into his palm.

    Silence.

    Theta frowned, scratching his beard as he delved into more innate analysis. He felt the equally studious stare of his wife behind him and shifted slightly to meet it. They exchanged knowing looks and read one another like books. They nodded understandingly, Theta turning back to the silent scene. He concluded it was best to let them leave as soon as possible.

    ¡°To blow my own horn, I¡¯m a fantastic teacher,¡± Theta asserted, folding his burly arms and smirking at the adults. He momentarily paused to absorb their reactions. To his success, he noticed that they were more attentive, even warranting a skeptical brow raise from Sinjin. His beloved ego was a powerful tool for attention and a guaranteed way to grip his audience. He continued. ¡°This is optional, but if you wish to stop by ¡®ere tomorrow so I can get you accustomed to the whole transformation stuff¡­ feel free¡ªcall me in advance first, obviously¡ª¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°What is there to teach?¡± Cosima interjected, cutting Tanairy off.

    An awkward pause. Sinjin¡¯s eyes widened, motioning slightly towards his girlfriend at the sudden question.

    ¡°Oh, uh, you first.¡± The blonde smiled widely at her for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.

    Cosima inhaled, withdrawing her bile.

    ¡°Right¡ªwhat is there to teach?¡± Cosima asked again. ¡°Aren¡¯t the, uh, transformations¡­ like¡­ easy if you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Theta held a long hum.

    ¡°O-Obviously, with the pain and all that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡ªthe transformations are kinda like muscle memory¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡­ see¡ª¡±

    ¡°Usually¡ª¡±Theta snapped his fingers¡ª¡±with easy thought and some willpower, you can add the elements of your harmonizations to your body.¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°So, it¡¯s easy, but just like any procedural memory¡ª¡±

    ¡°Practice, practice, practice,¡± Sinjin added quickly, solemnly stressing each repetition.

    Theta beamed at the adults, laughing childishly through his teeth. He felt like he was conducting a lecture, and the familiarity tickled his fancy.

    He loosened his giddiness to avoid looking psychotic.

    ¡°Exactly that!¡± Theta coughed. ¡°As you all know, the process is painful, and depending on your harmonization, expect a lot of¡­ discharge, like blood.¡±

    The adults shuddered in tandem. A small silence occurred.

    ¡°This is what you walked into, so you really have to endure it.¡± Theta took a gander at his watch before handling the door. ¡°More you practice, the more used to the whole thing you¡¯ll get, meaning the process will become less agonizing. Does that answer your question, Ms. Manco?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ of course.¡± She tightened her grip on Sinjin¡¯s sleeve, letting her mind whir and consider everything said.

    ¡°Any questions from you other two?¡±

    Sinjin waved his hand and shook his head. ¡°Nothing from me; thanks for the help, sir.¡±

    ¡°I have no questions, too,¡± Tanairy said, holding out a hand to Theta with a soft look. ¡°Thanks for, uh, the animals¡ªyeah.¡±

    Theta shook the hand enthusiastically.

    ¡°It¡¯s no problem! Me and the wife will be more than happy to mop up any of your blood in transformation practice¡ª¡±

    ¡°The hell?¡± Tanairy breathed in disbelief with nervous laughter. The couple next to Tanairy exchanged dubious looks.

    A pause.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s getting late,¡± Theta said, pushing the door forward. His wife waved with that flowery air to her. ¡°Keep in touch!¡±

    With that, the Eta couple sent them off and shut their door. Incomprehensible chatter was heard from the inside that soon faded.

    Cars passed by. Distorted birds chirped. Sirens roared. A plane zipped by. Seconds flew.

    Life moved on, but the awkwardness remained.

    Silence. The only sane response to committing what felt like a sin. They¡¯d just scratched the tip of the iceberg that was the underbelly of society.

    It was cold.

    ¡°Who says that?¡± Tanairy jested through a whisper, being the first to break the uncomfortable silence. ¡°Actual nutcase.¡±

    Silence. The blonde pulled her phone out and began tapping. She mumbled, ¡°Need to get an Uber.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ it¡¯s creepy,¡± Sinjin commented, forcing a chuckle. Tanairy humored it stiffly.

    Silence. Cosima sagged, feeling the heavy tension interrupt her train of thought.

    I need out¡ªhell.

    She needed air to breathe, patting her boyfriend¡¯s shoulder and hugging it tightly to send a message. He understood with a jolt.

    ¡°Well, Tanairy,¡± Sinjin announced, holding his pale hand out to Tanairy. ¡°We¡¯ll be off. It¡¯s been a pleasure¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it has.¡± Tanairy wore politeness on her face, her azure eyes brighter as the night rose slowly. She shook his hand. ¡°Hope you get home safely¡ª¡±

    ¡°Peak hours, huh?¡±

    ¡°I wish I could drive, but it¡¯s not my cup of tea.¡± The two shared a casual laugh. Cosima strained, shoving her maimed hand forward towards Tanairy to interrupt the paper-thin blanket of joy.

    ¡°Hope to meet again.¡± She fell victim to her smile once more, simply enhancing the wish for her words to be a lie. ¡°A pleasure.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, may see you guys tomorrow?¡± Tanairy asked.

    So she¡¯s coming.

    ¡°We¡¯ll check our schedules.¡± Sinjin scoffed. ¡°I always have time for lethal blood loss¡ª¡±

    ¡°Always at the top of my agenda.¡± They had another laugh, much to Cosima¡¯s displeasure.

    Eventually, as they walked further from Tanairy¡ªwho waited on the Eta couple¡¯s porch¡ªCosima found that her purple nostrils opened up, taking in the air beyond the bubbling mess of tension. It sobered her.

    She could breathe.

    ¡°Nice woman,¡± her boyfriend pointed out.

    She held her breath.

    That was definitely a thought, and she didn¡¯t want to think about it. She had more abstract constructions in mind, so she grunted and didn¡¯t bother to entertain the absurdity.

    She would suffocate if she did bother.

    There was a pause as they neared a white Honda Civic.

    ¡°We finally went along with this crap,¡± Sinjin lilted shamefully, clicking a button on keys he pulled out of his pocket. The car beeped. ¡°There¡¯s that thing tomorrow¡­ But, um, think about it: what the hell is our next step?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sweating, Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just my layering; it¡¯s fine.¡± Sinjin swiped at his wet scalp. He uttered wearily, ¡°Jesus.¡±

    She watched Sinjin wipe at his red eyes with his sweater collar, alerting her to tighten the distance between them with a firmer hug. ¡°Let¡¯s save this for when we get home, ¡®kay?¡±

    She didn¡¯t have much time to spare shame for her actions. She also had nothing to return to; harmonization was irreversible without what she sought.

    So her palms felt a boiling sensation, not only to give her dearest warmth but also because they itched for some light.

    So she¡¯d think ahead, and soon enough, she¡¯d lurch forward.

    She¡¯d ensnare it.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 6: Designer Novum

    She couldn¡¯t breathe just yet.

    From the quiet car ride to the equally still lounging in the living room, Cosima smothered herself with her rapid thoughts.

    The feeling wasn¡¯t new; it was another standard of the shelf life, even present in the far-flung peace that existed prior. Always on its toes, her mind bustled with designs and intrigues that would iron out a path to many goals. She knew she was always on top of things and wasn¡¯t fond of dawdling off the roadside¡ªsteering away from paths was never for her.

    ¡°It feels weird having animals in our blood.¡± Cosima vocalized the detour that she sensed Sinjin felt they had taken. Her sentence hung in the air like the plague, watching the man sitting at the end of the sofa stoop further over the glowing tablet perched in his lap. The mechanical pencil he bore braked mid-rampage, loitering around the screen as its tapping rhythm with the clomping clock and the outside bellows of vehicles died out. He looked as if he¡¯d collapsed then and there; his sore eyes sank in sync with his head.

    Then he stopped.

    Cosima magnified her gaze, a keen curiosity in her lover¡¯s slump. Her dry lips flapped open, only mustering a wordless wisp of wind before scrunching herself into the armrest¡¯s crook¡ªback into her husk. She then heard Sinjin suck in the icy air, the man lifting his head towards the roof, darting his stockpiled exhaustion through a puff.

    Tension.

    ¡°Yep.¡± He bloated his cheeks and scratched his neck, slouching further. He shot out another stifled breath. ¡°Yep.¡±

    The tension remained. Cosima leaned against the sofa with a drought of things to say, while Sinjin plunged back into his digital art with a drought of belief. Then there was silence, and it drowned the lady further.

    Minutes slogged by, and the momentum of the conversation remained nonexistent.

    Silence.

    The tick of the clock.

    The tap of a pen.

    Tick.

    Tap. Tap. Tap.

    Tick.

    Tap.

    Tick.

    Tick.

    Tick.

    Cosima ticked, surfacing the ocean in her mind. She tapped her fingers on the leather, noticing the absence of one sound that accentuated the deafening silence. Her purple face turned to Sinjin, watching him mindlessly circle his mechanical pencil in one of the sofa¡¯s buttons. She noticed the tablet grow dim, showing her that it had been experiencing inactivity.

    He was staring into space again. Lost and blank¡ªit was as if he were attempting to look deep into something. Briskly reassuring herself that he was just glowering at the wall, Cosima steeled herself as she scooched across the sofa. It always felt like a chore, a sense of duty she had never gotten the kick out of for a long time. But not once did Cosima see it as a burden. Because when she¡¯d tap on his shoulder, he¡¯d pop out of his stupor and land endearing eyes on her and nothing else in the room. The eyes were strained this time, but she still felt her heart flutter as she saw a semblance of affection in his confused look.

    She¡¯d then shift her head away from his line of sight as she remembered what he was most likely perturbed about.

    ¡°Eye contact.¡± He¡¯d always surprise her with that. He¡¯d put a palm to her face and tilt it so they were level.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± She could say no more; there was no reason to.

    They¡¯d stay in this position for countless moments and let the world around them roll on.

    Comfort.

    ¡°I can¡¯t draw hands.¡±

    He¡¯d move first every time and be the one to lead her along with him.

    Cosima idled. But she strung on Sinjin¡¯s random, contrite confession and followed it, managing the littlest smile her chapped cheekbones could pull off. There was still shame behind it; they both found it hard to swallow the reality of the situation.

    ¡°I know, Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eh? Not even going to lift me up?¡±

    She didn¡¯t reply, much to Sinjin¡¯s displeasure. He noticed her attempt to smile, cocking his hairless brows up as he whistled a faint breath.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just keep suffering¡±¡ªhe burrowed his head in the palm that held his pencil, cloaking the upturning of his lips¡ª¡±in hand hell.¡± Sinjin released himself from his secrecy and coughed a chuckle, swiftly placing his devices onto the table and clipping to his feet. He weaselled out of his awkwardness and teetered towards the kitchen square of the room. ¡°Imma eat a fricking Hot Pocket.¡±

    Cosima watched him pull the freezer door, yanking out a red box from the top shelves. With his back turned to her, he worked on tearing out two wrapped pastries as soon as he placed the box on the kitchen island.

    All she could do was stay still and wait.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    She jerked out of thought, hearing his solemn voice deliver a question she thought he wouldn¡¯t ask that night. Sinjin motioned over to a cabinet, retrieving a dish; his face still looked away from her.

    ¡°I know you.¡± Sinjin placed the pepperoni treats on the plate. ¡°You set your mind to something, and you kinda just¡­ never stop thinking about it.¡± He opened the microwave and slid the plate in, closing the small door before tapping the buttons slowly. Indecisiveness swayed in his gaze. ¡°You have lots to say, so let¡¯s talk it out.¡± His thumb pushed the ¡®Start¡¯ button, the inside of the microwave flashing orange and rotating the dish. It was heating up.

    ¡°After all, it was your choice.¡±

    A pang of guilt riddled Cosima as Sinjin made his stone-faced look apparent. He leaned against the island, subconsciously rapping his fingers on the surface as the microwave timer ticked.

    Tick.

    Tick.

    Tick.

    She let another wordless gasp fall from her lips, clutching her hoodie. Cosima knew he wasn¡¯t wrong. Between the two, she believed she was more ready to take on the burden of harmonization.

    Right now, they paddled in hot, uncharted waters. But as much as she wanted to sink and not confront the pressure, they had ventured into something irreparable. So she, unfortunately, realized she had to bear the brunt of her decision.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    At least this time, it¡¯s something she controlled.

    Silence.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry¡ª¡±

    ¡°No¡ªwait¡­ no.¡±

    She saw Sinjin pinch the bridge of his nose sharply, his skin noticeably tensing. He rustled some incoherent swears before admitting, ¡°I¡¯m also at fault here¡ªmy brain¡¯s a mess, uh¡­ here.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s... fine¡ªdon¡¯t beat yourself over it¡ª¡±

    ¡°No. Please.¡±

    They fell into the uncomfortable silence again.

    Cosima knew he was right: she had a lot to say. She couldn¡¯t fully decipher why it was difficult to give her thoughts, but she was attentive enough to sense Sinjin¡¯s agitation, as common as it was. Would touching upon the scorned subject of harmonization fuel his frustration further? Would touching upon the scorned subject of harmonization make him snap?

    Then the hardest poison of a question appeared, ever so hard to swallow.

    Would touching upon the scorned subject of harmonization force him away from her?

    It felt like it was already happening because Sinjin kept aloof.

    The bilious cough she had been fighting for a while appeared as a tool at that very moment.

    But would that be enough to shift his attention to her?

    I need to tell him.

    But she¡¯d still try the cough because if there was anything she wanted more, it was for him to care.

    However, as if the gods wished to curse her again, the microwave beeped repeatedly, and Sinjin broke out of his trance to attend to the food. It stopped heating up.

    She had to break out of her trance too.

    ¡°First thing¡ª¡± She broke into a coughing fit, hurling noxious phlegm into her shaking hand. She could vaguely hear the quick opening of the fridge, and despite the sting in her throat, there was vivid elation in her faltering heart. She took hold of the tissues that waved over her, beginning to clean her palms as Sinjin held a water bottle to her lips. With much-welcomed assistance, she sipped some of the cold water.

    Luckily, he was still here.

    ¡°Thank¡±¡ªshe coughed her last¡ª¡±you.¡±

    ¡°More water?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s wash your hands.¡± Sinjin pinched the tissues from her weak grip and helped her to her feet. Her legs shook, but she steadied herself by latching to his sweater. He guided her across the room towards the kitchen sink.

    ¡°I want to say something,¡± she said hoarsely.

    They reached the sink, with Sinjin flipping on the tap and letting the water gush.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to declare it¡ª¡±

    ¡°We both should realize that doing all this harmonization stuff doesn¡¯t really guarantee ourselves a cure,¡± she explained, catching the cold water in her hands, same for his attention. ¡°The cure randomly appears in living things; it¡¯s rare as hell. However, most of the time at least, plants that do have a cure are the only living things that stay still and can¡¯t run away¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I hate.¡± He pulled her hands away from the water and applied dish soap to them with a nearby bottle. ¡°The culture is just some kinda¡­ adrenaline rush¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªbecause realistically, it¡¯s all hunt with no game.¡±

    She scrubbed her hands together, the foam unable to magic the purple skin away. She wished she could lose that long-dissipated hope.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right.¡±

    She doused her hands again, washing the foam off.

    ¡°Humans who have the cure are obviously out of the question.¡±

    She suddenly felt as if she were washing blood away. Why it felt that way is what she couldn¡¯t grasp at that second.

    She shivered against him.

    Sinjin switched off the tap.

    ¡°You ok?¡± He scrambled for the towel on the rack and helped dry her arid hands. ¡°Was the water¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Sin¡ª I¡¯m fine,¡± she interjected quickly, drawing breath and painting the savagery in her head. ¡°They do a good job at making fusion with other humans unattractive by labelling it as cannabilism¡­ but still, it¡¯s uncomfortable to think about¡ª¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s why we won¡¯t do it.¡± Sinjin took her away from the sink. She was internally grateful for being further away from the gory imagery she had thought up.

    ¡°Yeah¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re technically following the masses here¡­ But let¡¯s swear that we¡¯re never passing the limit that makes this even more immoral than it must be.¡±

    Cosima didn¡¯t need to take a gander to know that his face had disgust written on it. Helped to the sofa, she looked down at her knees, reluctant to meet the look that frightened her. It was one of those rare, despicable moments where she was glad not to have eyes. She couldn¡¯t cry. She couldn¡¯t give stylized looks. She couldn¡¯t let her hazel eyes shine anymore, most importantly.

    But she could still see.

    That look on his face was burnt into her mind, and just imagining the emotion directed towards her flipped a switch.

    She had to keep him there; she couldn¡¯t lose him.

    ¡°Of course, we won¡¯t; don¡¯t say something like that,¡± she bashed, anticipating the change in his demeanor. ¡°We gotta be rational¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Sinjin sucked in a breath, loosening the creases on his face. He began pacing around the carpet. ¡°We¡¯ll take a more pacifistic route. No squabbles and all that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yep¡ªoh, are you¡­ uh, going to¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Cosima expected that. ¡°Got a neurologist appointment at noon¡­ uh, wait¡ª¡±

    Sinjin dug into his pockets to retrieve his phone, tapping furiously at it and showing her the screen. It displayed the Calendar app and an appointment listed on the 21st of October.

    ¡°Yep. Tomorrow.¡± Sinjin clicked the side of his phone, turning it off. ¡°What about you? I can drive you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go with you.¡± She switched on fast, shocking him.

    He blinked at the sudden response.

    ¡°But I¡¯d imagine you¡¯d go, as you were pretty ready to¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, uh¡­ We can go after the appointment, right?¡±

    His grip tensed around his phone. Then they eased without any ease; there was hesitation.

    ¡°I suppose so¡ªTanairy will be there, no?¡±

    Her body tensed. They didn¡¯t ease; there was hesitation.

    ¡°Yes¡­ she will¡ª¡±

    ¡°I could drive you then¡ª¡±

    ¡°No¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªif you¡¯re worried about¡ª¡±

    ¡°No¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªdoing it alone¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want to do it with you.¡± Cosima leaned forward to emphasize the point. She didn¡¯t know why it was so confusing for him to understand. ¡°We¡¯re a team, idiot¡ª¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s why I¡¯m going to a brain scientist tomorrow,¡± Sinjin quipped quickly, breaking into a rumble of laughter. It had the huskiness that she always loved, and without her control, despite how dried-out her voice was, she giggled. It almost felt like there were just them in the world; nothing else mattered. Radiation, harmonization, losses¡ªthey forgot it all as they enjoyed one another¡¯s laugh regardless of goofiness.

    It was something normal¡ªsome breathing room.

    Cosima was the first to stop. She was always the first to let sobriety take her in these golden moments. Sinjin noticed, always keeping her feelings in mind. He rubbed his forehead with the phone in his hand, attempting to keep the light in his smile.

    ¡°You can come with me to the appointment, but if you want¡­ we¡¯ll go to crazy Theta after.¡± He noticed her look up from her knees, satisfied by the attempt at maintaining contact. ¡°Fine?¡±

    ¡°They shouldn¡¯t be done too early, so yeah, that¡¯s fine,¡± she replied, making sure to account for her boyfriend¡¯s discomfort. ¡°Theta seems to know what he¡¯s doing, so¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s still a stranger, all things considered.¡±

    Same as Tanairy, Sin.

    She shook the thought away.

    ¡°True, but¡±¡ªCosima scratched her neck¡ª¡±we gotta take what we can get and work with it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yep¡ª¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t go back.¡±

    They let a silence draw between them before Sinjin sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll continue praying that the cure appears in you naturally,¡± he said. ¡°That right there is the best option we could ask for.¡±

    His phone vibrated in tandem with hers, which sat at the corner of the table. He pressed on his screen, and a notification appeared. He murmured under his breath, ¡°WhatsApp.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± She fixated on her phone, her fingers itching to grab it.

    ¡°It¡¯s convenient timing because we just got added to a group called Theta¡¯s Ristretto Ghetto?¡± Sinjin tried, confusion on his face. He whispered, ¡°Hogwash name¡ª¡±

    ¡°Can I check it, Sin?¡±

    Sinjin whipped around to her and gave her a stern look despite the lack of eyebrows.

    ¡°Just WhatsApp¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just WhatsApp¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, geez¡ª¡±

    ¡°WhatsApp.¡±

    Sinjin held his gaze for a few more seconds.

    ¡°Fine. Go ahead.¡±

    She grabbed her phone, feeling his eyes linger on her before he shifted to his phone.

    They both went to the first block of text they saw upon entering the virtual space, from the added contact of Theta, that read: ¡®ello to the three that I met earlier today! Welcome to the ghetto, full of people from colleagues, students I taught at my professor job, and a nagging wife. We¡¯re all a bunch of crackheads here, and no, you will not be able to escape from this hell. enjoy ur stay lovelies <3 I¡¯ll fill y¡¯all in on many things to do with harmonization and the other things we do on this chat.

    ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°God Almighty¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sin, there are 34 members in this chat¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m turning my fricking notifs off¡ª¡±

    Their phones then began vibrating constantly. Endless spills of messages passed by. Different contacts. Different names. Different colors. Different emojis. Different emoticons. Different message lengths. Different grammar.

    All this came from the oddballs in this group chat that greeted them in many ways. It felt like information overload, as the messages never seemed to end.

    ¡°What the hell¡ª¡±

    ¡°What is even going on?¡±

    A message from Theta caught their eye again, but most of the block was a list. It read:

    Here is our list (Top 8) of criminals that we are most interested in. I call them the Gallon, the far-gone 8. Felons of many degrees that have physical appearances that have been altered SO much due to the stresses of Harmonization culture. As a passtime, we look into the news to see if these criminals will soon face justice for their actions.

    The couple looked at each other as they saw the last part of the message:

    We hope to see these criminals dead, especially the last two, who as we know up-to-date, hold a cure:

    *Saint Sabin

    *Tawny Tonner (Dingus)

    *Oswald Oz (possible exception)

    *Pina Pica

    *Spanner Springer

    *Itsy

    *Whatsit (¡®Skid Row Berserker¡¯)

    *Newton Neuville

    They couldn¡¯t breathe just yet.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 7: Sham Glam

    She couldn¡¯t breathe just yet.

    From the quiet Uber ride to the equally still lounging in the park, Tanairy smothered herself in the fresh air.

    So why couldn¡¯t she breathe?

    Well, there was radiation in the air. But that¡¯s simply a commonality. It was toxic, but everyone alive could still breathe it. The aurora in the day¡¯s sky was a wolf in sheep¡¯s clothing, but everyone alive would still make sheep¡¯s eyes at it. The world was in shambles, but everyone alive could still attempt to build bridges out of the rubble.

    She used to think she was part of the group that could breathe and swim lavishly across the flow of a chaotic world. In that sense, she¡¯d be one of the people who felt truly alive.

    But she knew she was a far cry from such a high, heavenly feeling. So even when the sugary savour of the powdered doughnut in her hand tickled her nose, there was a whiff of a deeper problem that reeked to high heaven.

    Her brain polluted the air; it was an innate pitfall that extended with no sign of an end. The longing for calmness couldn¡¯t extinguish the fire her neurons lit at her brain¡¯s front and rear.

    She¡¯d obsess about the doughnut in her head. Then she¡¯d sink her compulsive teeth into it, drawing strawberry jam out of the pastry.

    Without fail, she¡¯d obsess about the scenery on her left. Then she¡¯d sink her eyes into the matter and look.

    A stretch of green expanse with janky trees that still met their niche of putting up a natural front¡ªthat¡¯s what she saw but didn¡¯t entertain.

    She entertained the scenery on her right without fail, however. Then she¡¯d sink her eyes into the matter and look.

    Another stretch of green expanse with more trees that tried to look normal. There were more lonesome bushes. There were some empty camping chairs and picnic blankets of many shades and abstract designs, but as soon as people of distorted shapes occupied the area, their presence would force her to look away.

    Keeping to herself was safer; it always was.

    She¡¯d sink back into her doughnut.

    Then she¡¯d sink back into the repetition.

    Left. Nothing.

    Right. Something.

    Avoid.

    Look forward. Eat.

    The left may have changed.

    Look.

    Left. Still nothing.

    Right. Still something.

    Avoid.

    Look forward. Eat.

    She¡¯d keep sinking¡ªa tireless spiral. Her wayward eyes flit from trivial detail to trivial detail, tree to tree, person to person. Yet, even when she could bite through countless treats, she couldn¡¯t bite back the urge to react to meaningless cues. She felt the bark behind her would break the more she forced her back on it.

    It wouldn¡¯t break; the feedback loop was a broken record that wouldn¡¯t brake even for a second. It would keep running and leave the woman restless until she burnt out.

    She didn¡¯t even realize she smeared the doughnut residue on her black track pants.

    ¡°Sjutton,¡± Tanairy cursed in a harsh whisper, repeatedly picking at napkins atop her doughnut box on the grass. She scraped a bundle of napkins over the sugar stains¡ªto no avail¡ªbefore cleaning the jam on her fingers and cheeks. As if she felt she was getting judged, she slid her palms against the grass in a whimsically tragic attempt to rid her hands of the stickiness.

    This tangled feeling wasn¡¯t new; it was another standard of the high life she thought she had the pleasure of living. It was something she shouldn¡¯t take for granted. But she had to because she knew other people faced substantial problems she couldn¡¯t match.

    It was this same high life that cursed her.

    It kept her on her feet.

    It kept her alert.

    It kept her at full throttle.

    It kept her obsessive.

    But she had to live with such a double-edged sword.

    ¡°11:46,¡± Tanairy mumbled, turning on her smartphone and leaving a smudged thumbprint on the screen. She punched in a passcode of ¡®Airy-reed360!¡¯ and unlocked the apps on her phone. Her first instinct was to dart to WhatsApp, where a ballooned bubble of ¡®99+¡¯ bulged out of the app. ¡°The hell are they posting?¡±

    Her finger hovered over the app.

    Then it flew away and scrolled to another page.

    Out of sight and out of mind¡ªthat was her first thought as soon as the group added her the previous night. The anarchy of it all tempted her to vomit, as the feeling was too much like the mental gymnastics that took centre stage in her head. Words, symbols, cryptics¡ªlightning-speed bullets of information she didn¡¯t wish to bite yet, all zipping at her with relentless intent.

    The mental strain was the obsession. The ¡®Gallon¡¯ was the compulsion to click off.

    That had been the last straw, yet she stayed in the group. Despite how much it disgusted her, she had to pick at scarce straws and use any resource she could get her hands on. After all, she had willingly indulged in something bigger than herself, and a sole mental impurity spelt it out to her as if she were a child:

    I have a goddamn cannabis salamander in my DNA.

    The thought was the sore thumb in the tsunami of irrelevancies in her brain, the soggy reminder that she was now part of the Harmonization Culture. She thought she was utterly lost when she found herself ensnaring an animal. But now she had an ounce of a clue as to where to go from there. Nevertheless, when it came down to the morality of it, she felt she was light years away from what she knew was right.

    She opened the Maps app hurriedly, needing to get her bearings.

    A pointer appeared on the map, displaying ¡®Alamitos Heights Park¡¯.

    ¡°Havana Ave¡­¡± she muttered, typing an address into the search bar. After entering it, a trail highlighted the distance she needed to travel. She nodded understandingly. ¡°Joggable.¡±

    She pushed herself away from the tree, stumbling forward in an attempt to stand up straight. She stuffed the doughnut box into a trash bin nearby, pressing her back out to diminish the stress around her hips.

    As she performed more stretches, she looked across the small fields and took in some of the world. Adults rambled and cackled, dabbling in frivolous matters with drinks swirling in their hands. More would arrive from the moderately busy street behind them, whipping out food or entering into exercise regimens out in nature. The warmth of the diverse and vibrant atmosphere pulled the sides of her downturned lips up.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    However, seeing the joy radiating from the teetering children sealed the deal. Some had burnt skin. Some had body deformities. Some had missing limbs; a child had a pegleg from what she could see.

    But to become witness to them running, jumping, and playing near the outskirts of the lagoon was a near and dear reminder that trumped all other reminders. The kids who had reasons to frown attempted to spark a fire in themselves, encouraged by the tender guardians standing on the sidelines with open arms.

    Her fair cheeks grew rosy from the sightly image; it wasn¡¯t the jam from earlier. The laughs tugged her lips up, and briefly, it was as if she were out of her chaotic mental loop. She stood out in the open with no worries, embracing the rare feeling and the breathing space that made itself noticeable.

    Seeing their smiles reminded her of what she was fighting for.

    I should hold a picnic soon.

    She¡¯d propel forward.

    So, at full throttle and with a last glance at a view she engraved into her mind, she whipped a small black case from her pockets, flicking it open and picking out a pair of earbuds. She pocketed the case, working on securing the earbuds.

    She popped the left one in.

    She popped the right one in.

    She popped her inertia, entering the Spotify app on her phone with a playlist poised to immerse her in its tunes.

    ¡®Keep Running¡¯

    She hit a button, and low-fidelity music washed over her rapid senses.

    The laughter. The clapping of wine bottles. The kicks of a football. The passing cars. The world.

    All of it blurred, leaving only her and time to breathe.

    The music and isolation were the dollars-to-doughnuts motivators that kept her running forward.

    So she ran.

    Then she arrived.

    She checked the time.

    ¡°11:51.¡± Time always seemed to accelerate alongside her, sweating buckets like she was. Her chest fell and rose at a staccato rhythm, attempting to tame her beastly heart through deep breath intakes and outtakes. As she did so, she paused midway through a song on the Spotify app and raised her hands towards her ears.

    She took out the left earbud.

    She took out the right earbud.

    She took out her immersion, and the world flooded back into her eardrums.

    Muted laughter from other compounds. The rolling of cars into driveways. Bumbling of birds on safe canopies.

    Peace.

    Her brain always told her that it wasn¡¯t what it seemed. That laughter was just a mask for depression. Someone¡¯s arriving back home after a horrific day. The birds are rejoicing in their ability to fly away from the clutches of humanity.

    But she never listened to this nemesis of hers.

    The blonde unlocked her phone and entered WhatsApp, spotting Theta¡¯s profile picture¡ªsome shrimp, for some odd reason¡ªand opening the empty chat with him. Tanairy wiped her hairy brows with her wrist as she typed: good morning (almost afternoon haha)! I hope it¡¯s fine if i came early, didn¡¯t want to be late!

    She sent the message, but each friendly letter she inputted made her more unsure. Manifesting at the front of her mind, she recalled that Theta was still a stranger.

    One safe interaction yesterday doesn¡¯t mean a safe one today.

    Her message had a thumbs-up not even minutes after it went up. She squinted at her phone and frowned.

    Is this man not just gonna say anything? It¡¯s fishy.

    The mahogany door clicked, and so did she, exploding into a defensive stance. She broke away from the previously warm sweat into a colder one, holding her arms in front of her face.

    What?

    ¡°Come in!¡± Theta boomed, his grizzly face and droopy caracal ears appearing from behind the cracks of the ornamented door. He flashed a goofy grin, forming a drinking gesture with his fingers. ¡°The wife stocked up on some exquisite German chamo!¡±

    Tanairy glued herself to tension, loosening the adhesion at the man¡¯s jovial words. She wore a shoddy smile, feeling the coldness trickle further down her face.

    He¡¯s such a grandpa.

    She straightened herself without mechanical ease.

    ¡°Chamomile?¡±

    ¡°You act like a British bloke.¡± He disappeared behind the door. ¡°Come in! We gotta discuss a lot!¡±

    She didn¡¯t; she began calculating.

    This is a straight path. If they ambush me, I¡¯ll just run back.

    Do I have the energy to?

    Did I eat enough?

    Do I go in? I need this to progress.

    What has he harmonized with?

    What abilities does he have?

    What does Danae have?

    Am I going to die?

    I won¡¯t die.

    I have to go in.

    Supersonic debates resonated in her head, pounding at her skull as she stood there, shaken by the turbulence. She couldn¡¯t attend to each one and strike at them with a mallet; each thought were difficult customers to dismiss.

    But before she could even consider gathering her composure, her vision became fogged with strands of green.

    Out of the blue¡ªher sight and her mind¡ªa barrage of vines gushed out from the opening in the door, homing in towards her at a breakneck speed.

    <hr>

    It hit her.

    Cosima always knew that.

    So why did she keep coming back to these posts?

    It was a question her disobedience neglected; entertaining rhyme and reason had become more of an afterthought the longer she had time to lament. Whenever she sat in solitude¡ªespecially when it was slumped under the sill of the car window as she did now¡ªshe¡¯d attempt to peruse the boundaries that would constrict her and then indulge in them.

    She found herself on the Instagram app, drowning herself in unreachable expectations. Model and fashion accounts were spoonfed to her, giving her fresh pictures of men and women who still gifted audiences with something to look at.

    Many had mutations, from rash outbreaks to uneven faces to uncanny colorations. But what the arcane algorithm taught her was that these people still had a semblance. The fortunate who dared to post their faces either had their share of radiation in the lightest dose or had flamboyant mutations that worked well with the industry.

    Granted, she barely knew anyone in her feed, barring a few. She followed accounts like a mindless zombie, always wanting updates, news, or anything to satiate her curiosity. But now, as a zombie, she couldn¡¯t follow any of these entities; she wasn¡¯t part of their trend. She simply ate whatever lavish poison the app¡¯s program wanted to feed her without the introspection she used to have.

    She stood light years away from the league she used to play in, satisfaction, and a dream that sleep couldn¡¯t even bring her closer to.

    But if she wanted to be light years away from one thing, it would be the profile icon that sat alluringly at the bottom-right corner of her screen. Her fingers got dangerously close.

    She was already doing enough to avoid looking at the top of the feed, where her profile picture stood among others in a line. She could feel the bile rise in her throat if she had to see the rainbow outlines around people¡¯s profiles, acting as gateways to more personal information that would break her.

    Hers would have no gateway; she had no story to tell.

    Her clear skin, enchanting chestnut eyes, nourished hair, white smile, and the life on her face were all history.

    She was just an afterthought.

    A knock¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t some afterthought¡ªsounded on the car window, forcing Cosima upright. Her heavy thoughts switched off like the phone in her hand, the device sliding into her hoodie pockets in a weak swoop. There was a much greater danger to beware of at the moment. Sinjin.

    ¡°Crap¡ª¡±

    She fell into a series of dry coughs, hurling hot mucus and miasma onto her hand. Sinjin¡¯s faint footsteps hastened as he came around the car and flung open the door to the driver¡¯s seat. Without much of a word, he picked out tissues atop the dashboard and waved them in front of her. She accepted them, croaking into one sheet before using more sheets to clean the mucus on her right palm. It had become greener as of late, and she believed it was some punishment.

    For what? She could list many, but she knew a ¡®why¡¯ was in store for her soon.

    She finished wiping at the mess on her hand, dumping the used tissues into the side compartments of the door.

    ¡°Thanks¡ª¡±

    ¡°Water?¡±

    Without giving her time to answer, he gave her the water bottle in the cup holder, which she accepted and gulped down.

    The car flared to life soon after, Sinjin¡¯s impassive face looking over the backrest as he pulled out of their space in the clinic¡¯s packed car park with focus. He then began the drive down the main road, all in stone-cold silence as Cosima recuperated from her episode.

    He¡¯s disappointed.

    She stared out the window, watching the humdrum Los Angeles city life buzz by.

    ¡°Don¡¯t go on Insta again¡ª¡±

    ¡°I get it¡ª

    ¡°No, you don¡¯t.¡± His voice was deep and steadfast, hampering Cosima¡¯s shoulders and forcing her into a hunch. ¡°You know it¡¯s not good for your health¡ªwait, no¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    His eyes¡ªmore bloodshot now¡ªhovered over to the other seat, watching how she sagged on the leather. He quickly honed in on the road, taking a turn, swearing under his breath, and mouthing ¡®Focus¡¯ to himself.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s¡­ uh, more how long you spend on it,¡± he said, his voice softening to accommodate the mood. ¡°Following all those accounts is pretty much asking for brain rot.¡±

    She stayed silent.

    He grimaced at himself and breathed in and out through clenched teeth.

    ¡°I¡¯m still skeptical, obviously.¡± He stopped behind a row of cars at a stop light. ¡°But, if this weird harmonization stuff is going to get you¡ªor¡­ uh, us¡ªnear some form of solution to the mutations¡ªactually, may I remind you that we are heading to a stranger¡¯s home for ¡®training¡¯ he didn¡¯t even elaborate on, even in the¡­ in the group chat he made to give information!¡±

    His fingers began rapping onto the wheel; no rhyme, reason, or rhythm. The hairless face Cosima knew he wanted to keep steady had rumpled the same way she drooped at the current subject. While waiting for the stop light, he swiped absentmindedly on his phone. She identified it as a familiar habit, tapping his shoulder to shift his gaze.

    I¡¯ll change the subject.

    ¡°How was the appointment, by the way?¡±

    The faint sound of car doors opening didn¡¯t perturb them. It also didn¡¯t diminish the steely glint in his eyes.

    ¡°Nothing much has changed¡­ Doc said my OFC and, er, frontal area were still iffy¡­ But we move,¡± he explained in brevity, tapping a finger against the wheel impatiently. He exhaustedly repeated, ¡°We move.¡±

    ¡°Ah, good¡ª¡±

    ¡°My back is killing me, though.¡± He began feeling the back of his shoulders. ¡°I swear to God that those waiting room chairs are made of bloody bricks¡­ or something¡ªthis red light has been on for a minute!¡±

    Stressed. Very stressed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just an accident¡ª¡±

    People began flooding out of their vehicles on the freeway, stomping towards the source of the traffic in a flurry. With that sight alone, Cosima ducked under the window sill into obscurity before the squabbles outside became mixed with the cacophony of horns and the stagnant revving of engines.

    Sinjin¡¯s fingers were en route to squeeze the life out of the bridge of his nose, but he forced his arm down and swung his door open. The chaos became much clearer, which practically pushed Cosima under her seat.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see what¡¯s going on¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ª¡±

    ¡°Just gonna take a good look then¡±¡ªhe took off without closing the door¡ª¡±I¡¯ll come back!¡±

    ¡°Sin!¡± He was long gone. She was always confident that her voice could reach him, but when he was this agitated, he always appeared to be in his own world.

    I¡¯ll call him. This fool.

    The discord outside snowballed in tempo, with more people scampering out of their vehicles to witness the roadblock. She latched onto her phone for dear life, praying she could just sink into the earth below the car and avoid people possibly peering in.

    She coughed, more unnatural mucus coating the back of her hand. Like the tension that rolled through the street, it burnt her. Her journey to the Phone app hastened.

    However, as soon as she reached the desired contact, a call appeared on her phone from ¡®My Hubby¡¯. Twisting her brown hair with shaking hands, she wasted no time.

    She accepted, desperate and longing for him.

    ¡°Sin, what¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Bull¡ªTawny freaking Tonner is here!¡±

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 8: Deportment Lesson

    ¡°What! You¡¯ve got to be¡ªHow the hell¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wait¡ªCos, I can¡¯t hear jack!¡±

    Sinjin jabbed at the volume button at the side of his phone, gripping the phone near his earlobe to understand the incoherent rush of questions from the other side.

    Commotion at a mad rush hour. Yet another headache to burden his already splitting head. The cars cried, clustered in a tight line, waiting for a miraculous leeway to manifest. People crowded around the blockage, capturing the chaos on their devices or screaming bitter nothings into deaf ears.

    ¡°Get out of the way¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have an appointment¡ª¡±

    ¡°This cow needs to be absorbed¡ª¡±

    ¡°When are the cops locking her¡ª¡±

    ¡°The SDD should be here soon¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have somewhere to be¡ª¡±

    ¡°Move¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nuisances!¡±

    ¡°Useless!¡±

    ¡°A-holes!¡±

    ¡°Nuisances!¡±

    All the ruckus was to no avail; it made his teeth grate. Everything at the moment was a losing game, the most frustrating being that he couldn¡¯t reach Cosima. The uproar around him drowned her voice out, their connection faltering, with neither getting anything across. It was always like an unrelenting tempest nowadays¡ªa rabid tangle between him and whatever problem the world would blindside him with.

    He knew a greater storm would await him soon¡ªon the other side of this human barricade. The other side would wear the image of a clean road if no vehicles could get through. However, believing the grass was greener on a different side always rubbed him the wrong way. After all, it was this same road he would have to drive across to reach a destination that pained the bumps on his back the more he carried the thought. Eventually, minutes would pass where he and Cosima would have to attend whatever harmonization training they had in store at the Eta household. They¡¯d have to learn how to break their bodies and transform themselves into something capable of¡­

    What?

    He still had his doubts about the logistics of it; that itself wouldn¡¯t change. However, attempting to comprehend his girlfriend on the other end, he realized he was thinking too far ahead again.

    He snapped back to reality with flickering eyes, having lost himself in his thoughts for what he hoped was the last time that day. Much to his dismay, dismal disappointment dawned on him the more he had to witness the present situation.

    It was a tempest in a teacup, a disgrace to the beauty of tea.

    Vexing.

    He cringed at the futile attempts to sidestep the protesters on the road. Peeved drivers lugged some of the activists¡ªheavy and strong in their beliefs. However, they¡¯d retaliate and scramble back into their wall, shoving their ¡®Stop Harmonization¡¯ signs into many headlights and eyes that only saw red. The growing mob would rise and revolt, running the pulling attempts to the ground. Yet the wall stayed, with the bricks always cementing back together. The activists would revolt, chanting their signs to people willing to sign their death warrants.

    It was just a back-and-forth between people who wouldn¡¯t listen to one another¡ªthe tried-and-true finishing nail to the coffin that was Sinjin¡¯s sanity.

    Vexing.

    All this failure was vexing.

    This is useless. Shouting at protesters is stupid. Wait for the bloody cops, blockheads.

    Then he felt stupid, shifting his eyes past the crowd of heads to face his blatant error. Out of all the blockheads loitering around and running their mouths, the biggest blockhead was the head of the protesting wall, sitting smack dab in the middle with a stony expression: Tawny Tonner.

    The woman in question wore similar clothes as her other protestors¡ªthe same grey shirts and scratchy jeans that made them all look like robots. However, unlike her allies, who parroted their message, she stayed silent. She simply sat on the rough asphalt with one leg¡ªwhich had the appearance of a cat¡¯s¡ªpropped up, her wrinkled face as motionless as their message¡¯s potency.

    However, the reason why no one ever attempted to pull her away was because she held potency. Sinjin knew very well that those familiar with the protesting woman¡¯s repetitive class act learned to avoid confronting her if they happened to run into her and her extremist antics. He supposed he was deemed lucky.

    It wasn¡¯t even a class act; there was nothing ¡°class¡± about it if people didn¡¯t absorb anything.

    In its purest form, this was a circus act for all to record and roll their eyes at. And at the centre of it all was the class clown of a ringleader to this mayhem¡ªthe sitting headache department walled off by her gang.

    She¡¯s one-dimensional¡ªno space or depth in that head.

    He wouldn¡¯t say that to her face. Heck, he didn¡¯t know why some wanted to complain directly to the human wall because not only was it a waste of energy, but that bricks were opaque; their brains were smooth and impenetrable.

    But few looked Tawny in her one human and one feline eye, as she didn¡¯t need many words if her physical image did the talking. Behind her, eight mackerel tabby tails stretched from her behind in serpentine movement, stiff but vicious in intent. One of her tails was longer than the rest, arching over the woman¡¯s head like a scorpion¡¯s stinger. She took up the most space in the wall, so the heavy and lethal job of dragging her wasn¡¯t an option a rational person would take.

    There was no rational person there¡ªjust people being people.

    She got added to the chat¡¯s Gallon list thingie. What kind of stupid game is that? Why even care?

    His phone buzzed. It went unnoticed.

    This woman hasn¡¯t been caught for months. The world¡¯s a freaking superhero society now¡ª

    His phone buzzed repeatedly, ripping him away from his inward rants. He glanced at the default cover screen and noticed Cosima spamming him on WhatsApp, with many ¡®SIN¡¯ messages flooding his feed. For a millisecond, he noted the pool of missed calls before they were drowned out by the texts.

    He wished to drown everything out. The argumentative noises of a crowd and the reasonably hounding notifications of his phone¡ªall of these forces drummed his skull. If only he were like the cars on the other side of the freeway¡ªlucky and mobile¡ªhe¡¯d be running away from the annoyances that so happened to be installed in his way.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    Vexing.

    It was vexing.

    But if there was one thing he couldn¡¯t turn away from, it was Cosima. It always was, even when stuck in this mental disarray. He could never leave her.

    Heaving a sigh of anything but relief, he unlocked his phone with an 8-digit pin to confront the palpable distress of his girlfriend. She was still in full throttle with the hurried messages, urging him to pump out a quick text that said: Cosimama, I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m sorry for leaving. I¡¯ll be back in a bit just had to see what was up.

    She had stopped in her virtual tantrum; the woman had been typing for a while longer. He watched a more thought-out text from her get sent that read: OK good, come back it¡¯s dangerous to be near that.

    It was rare for Cosima to take care of him. However, when she did, in contradiction to him being her crutch, he never took it for granted. He never would because he always knew her sternness came from a place of love and the heart.

    Despite having no exit from this road madness, Sinjin had to remove himself from the crowd, or his brain would rot further if he didn¡¯t return to that place of love he had left in the car.

    Before he even considered escaping, he¡¯d soon be immersed back into the chaos with little to no resistance. The deafening squall of a man trembled the air, extinguishing the rumble of sounds down to hushed whispers and gossip. Sinjin shifted through a few people, attempting to peer through the rising tower of arms and horizontal phones, soon having enough space to watch a man in dishevelled work attire seethe above Tawny¡¯s rough glare.

    ¡°When are you people¡ªyou especially¡ªgoing to learn that this is useless?¡± the man roared. His loud voice must have been the result of some mutation. ¡°All of us got better things to be doing than protesting some worthless effin¡¯ cause!¡±

    The woman kept silent. Her stare remained hard, angering her opponent more.

    ¡°What kind of hypocrisy are you even trying to promote?¡± The man thrust his hands¡ªfull of fleshy holes¡ªtowards the many signs bobbing up and down by the activists. ¡°Where do you think you got your cat tails from? Oh yeah¡ªgoddamn Harmonization!¡±

    The woman kept silent. More fuel to the fire, worsened by the heartening responses of the crowd in agreement with the man.

    ¡°We have somewhere to be¡ª¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s useless¡ª¡±

    ¡°Kick her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Arson attempts have been a problem thanks to her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why should she be listened to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Tell her!¡±

    The man had a further incentive to increase his fire.

    ¡°Do you really think that waving a piece of cardboard is going to change over 6 billion or something worldwide¡­ on some random street in freakin¡¯ LA?¡± The man scoffed, clear spit flying in Tawny¡¯s direction. He fiddled with his damp collar, looking down at the woman¡¯s rigid face as if she were inferior. ¡°Face the facts: you can do nothing. Simple as.¡±

    More phones rose. More cars honked. More onlookers cheered in harmony. More fuel flew into the man¡¯s fire.

    Sinjin knew exactly how the man felt; he frowned at the knowledge.

    The man¡¯s fists had made their way to his hips. His shoulders straightened. His tie fastened. His sneer tightened. His determination boomed.

    The man had set in train a surge of rebellion against the rebels, assuming the conductor role in the presence of another conductor. In Sinjin¡¯s inflamed eyes, it was pointless. The whistle never pulled the train, added by the fact that no track was in sight. The scene would be a train wreck if no one could drive basic communication in the right direction.

    Vexing.

    All of it was vexing for him.

    However, surprisingly, Tawny still looked unperturbed.

    ¡°The SDD will just keep shoving you away¡ªyou do realize you¡¯re a criminal, right?¡± The man forced more of his pride onto the unmoving woman. ¡°And, once again, people that do harmonization won¡¯t suddenly change because some hypocritical nutcase told them to on a piece of paper¡ª¡±

    Encouraging cheers stopped him pleasantly in his tracks, once again giving him more fire to thrust his point forward at a breakneck pace.

    Sinjin wouldn¡¯t cheer. All these sounds were white noise to him¡ªplain discordance that never rectified itself. Letting himself utter that same white noise was never his motto; he knew he was above that as an adult.

    He hated train wrecks. Especially in this stir, they were always the obvious conclusion when a train met a brick wall head-on, as evident when Tawny finally opened her mouth.

    ¡°So¡ª¡±

    ¡°Harmonization puts animals in danger, as wildlife has been declining as a result of it,¡± Tawny interrupted, her voice gravelly yet direct and hard, like the crashing wreck that was the man¡¯s upcoming sentence and the crowd¡¯s confidence. There were bursts of disagreement, but the protester kept her voice audible. ¡°So, harmonization should be stopped¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ignore what I said!¡± The man couldn¡¯t comprehend how impregnable the wall ahead of him was. He forgot that walls were solid; his mind was not grounded in any reality, as Sinjin deduced.

    Tawny just kept silent. It added more fuel to the already derailing train.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t the point of protesting to be flexible?¡± another person shouted from within the crowd. ¡°She isn¡¯t realizing that her message doesn¡¯t consider both sides¡ª¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡± the man exclaimed, inching closer to Tawny in an attempt to grab at an unsuspecting activist¡¯s sign. ¡°Just leave! I have work, for effin¡¯ sake!¡±

    One of Tawny¡¯s tails swiftly slapped the man¡¯s hand away, forcing him into a submissive state of angry grunts.

    ¡°We won¡¯t stop protesting until the government¡ª¡±

    ¡°The government?¡±

    ¡°¡ªtakes some drastic measures in preventing harmonization¡ª¡±

    ¡°Woman, the government won¡¯t do jack-sh¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªespecially in public areas¡ª¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t do jack¡ª¡±

    ¡°Harmonization also makes people¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not listening!¡±

    ¡°¡ªmore dangerous and leads to more crime¡ª¡±

    ¡°Listen!¡±

    ¡°¡ªas seen in the big case in Skid Row to name¡ª¡±

    ¡°What would happen if the animal was dead?¡±

    ¡°¡ªa few, which had led to many casualties¡ª¡±

    ¡°What. Would. Happen. If. The. Animal¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why would you support something so cruel?¡±

    Vexing.

    Vexing.

    Vexing.

    Nothing was going on. It was just a man bashing his head into a brick wall, hoping his bloody forehead would break through it. Sinjin didn¡¯t understand the appeal. Encouragement from a sea of people encouraged fruitless attempts at getting a message across, and there was no indication that an end was to come. However, until the authorities arrive, the circus is bound to continue, and Sinjin is bound to lose his mind.

    But what confused his lost mind most was one question from a chink in his brain.

    Why was he still there?

    ¡°Fusing with something dead doesn¡¯t change the fact that you gain the abilities that it may possess,¡± Tawny explained, her challenger becoming red in the face. The protester fiddled with the bushy, moustache-like fur that branched from her nostrils. ¡°You forget¡ª¡±

    ¡°So, were the cats you fused with alive or dead?¡±

    ¡°That is not important¡ª¡±

    ¡°Why isn¡¯t it?¡± The man revelled in a weak spot, masking his annoyance with a smirk as he studied Tawny¡¯s scrunched-up expression. ¡°Because we all know from your previous protesting attempts that you¡¯ve been using abilities to disrupt people¡¯s lives¡­ like you¡¯re doing now¡ª¡±

    ¡°I am protesting for a good¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! Because what you¡¯re telling me is that¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªcause, I am¡ª¡±

    ¡°Listen¡ªyou¡¯re no better than the supposed criminals you¡¯re trying to fight against¡ª¡±

    It all felt like a ticking time bomb. The man shouted. The growing crowd shouted. The traffic shouted. The activists shouted. Tawny contemplated in silence¡ªthis behavior caused all other things to snowball.

    I need out of here¡ªcrap.

    Sinjin found himself swamped by people, attempting to move himself through the wavering crevices that presented themselves. The scene behind him would explode; he was attentive enough to acknowledge it. But when he began barging through the crowd, it was then that he remembered that his attention was feeble.

    He didn¡¯t need a masterful eye to know how the radiation made everyone come in different shapes and sizes. However, as the crowd increased and the ruckus rose in tempo, he noticed that everyone present contributed to the ever-growing fire. Everyone was wasting time. Everyone was wasting energy. Everyone was wasting breath.

    Blockheads. They were all blockheads¡ªfrom the protesters to the protesting opposition.

    All of them were blockheads, including him.

    It was at that realization that the time bomb blew, with screams and wails shaking the air, drawing Sinjin back into reality. He turned around in a stumble to catch the explosion, seeing people scrambling in the opposite direction, away from the central point of all the conflict.

    A mass of bubbling beige skin had taken to the sky behind the activist wall, sweeping downward towards Tawny¡¯s head. The activists floundering with their signs from the threat behind them alerted the woman, causing her five cat ears to twitch as she faced the oncoming bundle of flesh at impressive speeds.

    The flesh crashed into her face, sending her hurtling to the ground. It enveloped half of her head as she shrieked and struggled in the attacker¡¯s grip.

    More people dispersed. More people got out of their cars. More screams. More cries for help.

    Pure mayhem.

    And yet, all Sinjin did was stand there and watch it unfold. His phone rang like a bell, chiming in with the discordant tune of the scene.

    Cosima!

    The mental block in his mind wanted to act and check on her, but his body was slow in registering it. All he could do was slowly turn on his heel and pray for his aloft brain to turn on, too.

    He felt like the man who tried to confront Tawny, going along with something that bore no reward. To put it bluntly, the man failed.

    And that meant Sinjin was failing as well.

    Vexing.

    It was vexing.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 9: Dress Opp

    People were as dumb as bricks; Tawny wasn¡¯t a stranger to that thought.

    Even after being belittled by the same people¡¯s perceptions and their current acts of physical violence, she knew she would always stick to her guns.

    She knew her guns were right. The ones who¡¯d shoot their mouths off without care or precision couldn¡¯t come to terms with their stupidity and the truth. So even when the lump of skin on her face attempted to suffocate her, she didn¡¯t want to be silenced.

    So she¡¯d speak.

    Esnaring a healthy person is a rookie¡¯s mistake!

    With a surge of ease, she peeled her head out of the skin, every single sound¡ªscreaming, running, roars of engines¡ªoverflowing into her peaked hearing as she freed herself from the fleshy grip. Gasping for air, she scrambled backwards, watching the skin retract back to its source with widened eyes. The near-inconspicuous cat eye on her cheek shot open in response.

    ¡°Weaken someone before trying to absorb them!¡± Tawny yelled to her assailant with her full Texan accent, trying to dominate the discord that ran its course on the motorway. She disliked engaging in others¡¯ ignorance; she believed people had to piece the puzzle themselves sometimes. However, when she could, she had to take the reins of the conversation and go on the offensive rather than the favorable defensive. Dominating the chaos is the primary tactic for winning a protest and, by extension, a fight for her life. ¡°Leave! Hurry!¡±

    Her companions ditched their signs and scuttled through the traffic the instant the order chilled their spines more than they already had. As they fled, they still attempted to reach her with their yelps, but Tawny couldn¡¯t hear them.

    Her senses were still all over the place, and her tailbone burned from rolling on top of her eight tails. The calls directed at her were annoyances as she honed in on something more alarming.

    ¡°Leave!¡± she alerted her indecisive allies once more, clutching at her aching back and witnessing the threat carefully reveal itself from behind a streetlight.

    As soon as her allies had left her behind, she came into contact with the spotlight she was standing under, understanding immediately that her assailant was after her and her only. She fell back on the two common reasons why someone would attack her.

    Is he someone from the mob taking their anger out on a protester to clear the way? Or does he just want my traits?

    Tawny plopped onto the asphalt, heaving slower breaths as the threat came into full view. Her tails arched over her, raring to knife down her opponent.

    There was an ensnaring attempt. So it¡¯s most likely the second one¡ª

    ¡°Why are you sitting down?¡±

    A snap sounded.

    The air crackled with a shimmer.

    And then an explosion thundered, shrieking along with the severe cries of adults and children.

    What?

    Metallic shrapnel rocketed in her direction. Her ears rang, forcing her to clutch at two of the many ears protruding from her head. She gritted her teeth, slouching clumsily onto the ground. One of her tails leaked blood; she was closer to the explosion than she had thought.

    Goddammit, I need to move further down the road.

    She couldn¡¯t even hear her thoughts as the fear around her skyrocketed. A fiery ash cloud polluted her view¡ªshe could make out some cars caught in rampant flames. People ran or stood around crying before being dragged away by nearby individuals with a will to live.

    These were the same people who tried to oppose her as she sat. Now, she was half-sitting with her oppositions beetling away with their tails between their legs.

    She searched for a particular pest she hoped was doing just that.

    That idiotic man is probably crapping himself¡ªdamn, wait. I need to focus.

    She discarded her hefty grudge for later, whipping her head around at her attacker. Wincing at the instant pain, she moved the bruised tail around her waist and into her lap, caressing the area around the hairy cut with her thumb.

    ¡°Eff¡¯ me! Shiet!¡± her attacker swore, his left hand gripping around the charred fingers of his right hand. As he hunched into himself, hawking red spit onto the ground, spectral sparks of white buzzed over his fingertips. He yelped, ¡°Shiet!¡±

    She noticed the sparks; it was prime time to take control of the situation.

    ¡°You can¡¯t control that electricity?¡± Tawny asked, loud enough to rule over the attacker¡¯s repetitive cursing. The ringing in her ears slowed. ¡°You just caused unneeded destruction, bozo!¡±

    ¡°Screw off!¡± Then the man went back to swearing again.

    The SDD and cops will arrive soon. I¡¯ll just leave.

    ¡°As you say,¡± Tawny grumbled to herself, shaking as she stood. She walked cautiously on her feline legs, avoiding any sharp debris. ¡°Everything hurts so¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop!¡±

    A snap.

    A shimmer.

    An explosion thundered near Tawny¡¯s feet, bowling her across the ground. Her grey sleeves would rumple and tear from the friction, but her skin didn¡¯t. She kept steady, reverting to a sitting position after she came to a dusty halt.

    He was more direct¡ª

    Snap.

    Shimmer.

    Explosion.

    Car horns. Screams. Charred metal upon metal.

    Bruh.

    Snap.

    Shimmer.

    Destruction.

    Snap.

    Shimmer.

    Destruction.

    Every explosion the man caused was unpredictable. Some engulfed the traffic in their lane. Some ravaged the traffic on the other side of the freeway, resulting in more ruptures of orange and grey. More screams. More cries. More tyre screeches. More blown-up concrete. More tactless attacking.

    Only some of these lightning strikes would reach her and catch her off guard, but she¡¯d remain rugged and unscathed. That in itself didn¡¯t mean that she wasn¡¯t disturbed.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    She couldn¡¯t nurture her burning tailbone from all the tumbling she had to do. She couldn¡¯t cover her ears before the following haphazard explosions arose from her attacker¡¯s snaps. She couldn¡¯t even think straight or have time to fathom how someone could be so devoted to trying to ensnare someone.

    But she wouldn¡¯t fight back; letting others tire themselves out with idiocy was her go-to approach. She¡¯d just sit and prepare a truthful scolding for the person trying to gain superiority in the dispute.

    I¡¯ve come to inform and teach, and now I¡¯m here feeling like I have to fight.

    ¡°You want to ensnare me, don¡¯t you?¡± Tawny sat her right elbow on her lap and dug her wrinkled face into her palm with scorn. ¡°Just stop trying to use the electricity¡ªI know you just got this ability recently, right?¡±

    The attacker bled from his snapping hand, sparks snapping back at him like frostbite. He seethed in silence, slowly approaching her.

    She didn¡¯t move. She just sat.

    He was in pain, so she had downtime¡ªsomething her way of living never brought to her.

    So she studied her new challenger¡¯s appearance, preparing her tails for attack if needed.

    One blue eye and one brownish eye. Heterochromia is a potential sign of harmonization with another human.

    He got closer.

    I see the typical dog''s tail¡­ Oh, didn¡¯t notice the dog fur there under his sleeves.

    He got closer.

    He has some feathers on his cheeks too¡­ A bird is part of the mix, I see.

    He got closer.

    Tawny gulped, kickstarting a series of groans in her stomach.

    He probably has more people and animals inside of him.

    He got closer.

    Tawny¡¯s stomach growled, wishing to lash out.

    That lightning thingie may get more accurate the closer he gets, so¡­

    He stopped.

    Tawny¡¯s stomach gurgled more.

    If he wants to harmonize with me especially, he must know my move.

    Her senses were still dull, but the sounds she could always hear, regardless of the chaos, were the sirens that always trailed her and her many endeavors.

    They were her rowdiest customers yet¡ªher most ambitious challengers. And if her current challenger didn¡¯t want to back down and use his brain, she¡¯d have to deal with one more challenger than she was used to.

    This life she led was just a challenge. But when she had time to think about it on the run, she never threw herself at her foes; they were always the first to engage.

    It was laughable, but what she prepared in her stomach was not a laugh.

    They just keep throwing themselves at me.

    Her attacker made a mad dash towards her, fingers in a snapping motion.

    The sirens neared, snapping her senses into motion.

    Being popular effin¡¯ sucks.

    She released the pent-up wind from her mouth as her tails flashed towards her opponent¡¯s eyes.

    <hr>

    Her eyes widened.

    But¡­ But I didn¡¯t ask for this.

    Tanairy sucked in a sharp breath, oblivious to the vines retracting away from her.

    The breath never left, like the rafflesia bulb swelling out of her spotted wrist. In an ugly brown, its lobes bunched, voiding death into the air and her blood to the ground.

    Her senses dulled, rotten flesh infiltrating her flared nostrils. But even when she felt herself lose touch with reality, the sirens in her head still ran rampant.

    Stop it!

    Why isn¡¯t it going away?

    Turn it off!

    It hurts!

    It hurts!

    It hurts!

    Stop!

    ¡°Your adrenal response must be fast, damn!¡± Theta commented. Tanairy¡¯s blurry vision could make out the Eta couple rushing out of the house. They were wearing blue masks. ¡°You¡¯re quick on your feet¡ªhun, do you have the¡ª¡±

    Tanairy fell to the floor, the sirens whirring louder as the people who attempted to attack her approached. Her face reddened. The cold sweat didn¡¯t cool her down. Her brain wanted her to sink into the earth and escape. But her body wouldn¡¯t move. Only her heart moved, in full steam, even when she was paralyzed from head to toe.

    Held in place, she couldn¡¯t struggle. All she could do was stare into space and see only red¡ªflags, floods, and flashes of red.

    Snip.

    Shiver.

    Deconstruction.

    Something thumped heavily near her feet, bowling her out of her numbness. She noticed a large pair of pruning shears hovering over her rumpled and torn wrist. She stayed tardy, slowly realizing the detached flower bulb on the ground was dead in its tracks.

    ¡°Sorry for the scare.¡± It was Danae¡¯s warm voice. Her flower eye entered Tanairy¡¯s view, wet with fresh sap and red, which didn¡¯t soothe her. She noticed the older woman inspecting her rough arm as if she were a plant, the florist attire making it more on the nose.

    Her lungs began taking in more air, grizzly fingers unclasping from her nose.

    ¡°I told you about the inhibiting pheromones of the bulb.¡± Theta came into view, poking at the dead bulb on the floor with his bare hands. ¡°I¡¯d assume¡­ its effects won¡¯t actually affect you, as you are the host. But, as I always say, expect anything.¡±

    ¡°Wrap,¡± Danae muttered, noticing the skin on Tanairy¡¯s wrist close up around small, uncanny roots etched in them. ¡°As expected, her body does the¡­natural patchwork after the pruning. Oaf, do we still have ibuprofen?¡±

    ¡°Of course. The adrenal response is strong too¡­ I think we must try clonazepam as well.¡± Theta turned away from the bulb and studied the frightened woman¡¯s face. ¡°Lots of it. I bulked up on a helluva lot of Lipton, so I hope to have a good variety for you, Ms. Ryd.¡±

    She wanted to speak. She wanted to scream. She wanted to vomit.

    There were many wants, but she only frothed at the mouth, unable to fulfil those wants.

    ¡°Sorry again,¡± Danae said, casually wiping at the foam with the back of her hand. She wore a focused look similar to that of her husband behind her, making them both appear professional. ¡°My husband explained to you yesterday about the nature of harmonization¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s all sorta a bunch of muscle memory, coming in to save ya when you are thinking about it,¡± Theta explained, studying the browning bulb in his hands. ¡°All mutations are ugly disorders, no matter how beautiful some may seem¡­ in my opinion¡ª¡±

    I¡¯ll help you stand.¡± Danae hoisted Tanairy onto her wobbling legs, helping her avoid the red stains on the concrete. ¡°Hand around me now.¡±

    ¡°I like to think of it as the laws of simple diathesis-stress, where the diathesis is the mutation and the stressor is my wife¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wow¡ª¡±

    ¡°Wife shoots you with a traumatic surprise attack, your brain wants to act and defend itself, and then it awakens your mutation¡¯s abilities.¡± Theta tossed the flower bulb back and forth in his hands. As they walked towards the doorway¡ªDanae aiding Tanairy¡¯s frozen body¡ªTheta stared back at the blood on the concrete. ¡°Negative environment, equally negative outcome¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re cleaning up the blood, by the way,¡± Danae said strictly, glaring at her jovial husband. ¡°I don¡¯t want any people to think we¡¯re some butcher house with all that blood¡ª¡±

    ¡°I kinda look like a butcher¡ª¡±

    ¡°Also, I don¡¯t think Ms. Ryd heard what you said¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s in a state of shock right now, oaf¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, she can hear me. She¡¯s breathing decently,¡± Theta said, scratching his messy hair with dirty fingers. ¡°Just need to make her know that in Harmonization Culture, you¡¯ll find that your body can do bizarre things, even when you don¡¯t want it to do those things. No one truly has control over themselves.¡±

    Tanairy could hear it all; the sirens were dying down. As she was helped into the house¡ªfull of the homey sounds of a kettle and air conditioning¡ªshe began thinking calmer thoughts and breathing suitable air.

    She still couldn¡¯t speak. There were customers in her head that she could finally talk to ones of reason who didn¡¯t push her to the edge. Or hunger got to her again, regardless of her recent meal.

    But as much as she longed for food, she also longed for answers. So she mustered up her hunger to question herself.

    I didn¡¯t think that attack would be scary, so¡­ Does my body work against me all the time?

    The door behind her closed.

    <hr>

    The door flung open.

    ¡°We gotta go!¡±

    ¡°Sin! Why did you¡ª¡±

    ¡°That blockhead protester¡¯s got another idiot attacking her and blowing the place¡ªquick, I¡¯ll help you out!¡± Sinjin pulled Cosima out from the bottom of the front seat more forcefully than intended, bringing her into reality outside the car.

    Cosima had managed to shut the door her boyfriend didn¡¯t close when he left, but it wasn¡¯t enough to drown out the chaotic sounds that occurred on the road.

    Now she could see it all.

    Nearby sirens. Haunting bellows. Shrouds of fire. Clouds of smoke.

    What horrified her most were the crowds of people, all fleeing for a chance to live.

    But then they¡¯d see her. So she had to hide away.

    Sinjin helped. He always did. He pulled her close into his chest¡ªhis bubble¡ªas they darted between rows of vehicles, attempting not to plough over other runners.

    But his bubble wasn¡¯t always the stablest. Sometimes, like when they were escaping a threat, it¡¯d be on the verge of popping. He¡¯d lose his cool.

    ¡°If we¡¯re as lucky as we are for running into an infamous ¡®effin leftist or something, maybe our car will get blown to bits!¡± Sinjin trumpeted, locking horns with himself. ¡°How nice would that be, eh? That would be swell as all hell!¡±

    His grip around her tightened, which she quickly perceived as defensive and loving. However, the dark look on his face she always feared was there, and it made the bubble cold and tight. Her body was as thin as his current patience, so she had to act.

    ¡°Sin, it¡¯ll be fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not. It really bloody isn¡¯t!¡±

    ¡°Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for¡±¡ªhe cursed, almost tripping in his steps¡ª¡±leaving you behind! Give me the scolding if we actually make it out of this bloody alive!¡±

    Right. Cosima was hurting herself, hugging him tighter than her build could digest.

    She was already missing his warmth; the cold sweat must¡¯ve washed it away.

    Please calm down, Sin!

    ¡°It¡¯s fine¡ªI¡¯m just glad you came back¡ª¡±

    ¡°You thought I wouldn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°No, not like¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a monster¡ªmy mind¡¯s just been killing me lately!¡± He stammered, searching for words as his breath turned raspy and his nose scrunched in agitation. But he still kept trying to rant and let himself explode for the first time in a while. ¡°So much has happened in the span of two days! Two days! My brain is an effin¡¯ mess! My back hurts like hell!¡±

    Why can¡¯t I calm him? What the hell is happening?

    She hated how confused she was; her lover wasn¡¯t some machine. He was unpredictable.

    Then again, she could never handle unpredictability¡ªshe learned that the hard way.

    And the learning never ended, as a resounding belch from afar forced everyone to a grinding halt, ears instinctively covered as the sound dominated over all other sounds. The burp¡¯s prevailing winds kicked them to the floor, blowing away the crowd¡¯s cries and the sirens. Some cars were ready to take off.

    Sinjin held his hands over her ears, grimacing while he helped her to her feet as soon as the sound subsided.

    ¡°Must be that idiot¡¯s belch¡ªagh!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ringing in my ears, too,¡± Cosima slurred, feeling herself pulled even closer. Yet he still felt so distant as the voices around them grew back to the chaotic normal, and his frown deepened further. He grumbled about his back more, prompting her to break him out of it. ¡°You alright?¡±

    His stance was defensive.

    ¡°I think so¡ªstay close to me, OK?¡± It was hard to hear. He resumed helping her through the chaos in a snap. ¡°We should be¡ª¡±

    Snap.

    Shimmer.

    Explosion.

    And then everything came crashing down on them like a ton of bricks.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 10: Silver Vanity

    Everything around her moved like quicksilver. But Cosima never kept up anymore.

    She lagged behind the world, watching it bolt past her at the speed of light. Then she¡¯d be left in space¡ªleft in the dark.

    That¡¯s all she could see.

    Darkness.

    She was grounded; the asphalt below her was warm. Her whole body burned with indescribable pain, as if she were allergic to the ground. This world she failed to become attuned to bound her to the earth, making flight a pipe dream.

    Despite how much her head split at the harrowing racket from all blindsides, she never blindsided herself.

    Pigs could fly. It wasn¡¯t impossible.

    So why couldn¡¯t she?

    What was holding her back?

    A weight. It crushed her bony body. It sapped her life away. It suffocated her.

    She couldn¡¯t see it, but it was there. So she had to stop being blind and open her absent eyes.

    So, with the fire in her empty sockets struggling to relight, she began seeing.

    Foggy. It wasn¡¯t any different from the darkness.

    She winced at her weak attempts to comprehend the noises around her. Even with no eyeballs, the simple act of recovering her bearings sent crippling shocks through her body.

    However, a single noise brought her slowly to life.

    ¡°Cosima!¡±

    She awakened further, the blurriness of a bulky image blinking in and out.

    ¡°Cosima!¡±

    She tried to take in more air in what felt like a chokehold. But it was putrid with smoke and grit.

    ¡°Cos¡ª¡±

    Sinjin coughed.

    Cosima coughed after, jolting at the feeling of liquid gushing down her grimy purple cheek.

    ¡°Sin¡­¡±

    He was there, hovering and looking at her warmly despite his throaty voice.

    The world listened to her silent plea to see the man, and her vision cleared.

    Nevertheless, she remembered that the world did her no favors. For this one favor of letting her see, she almost wished to go blind.

    Once again, she fell into deception; the sirens around her closed in.

    Sinjin¡¯s hairless face came into view. It had warmth, but on the outside, his skin was strewn with bloody stains and flowing tears.

    His voice trembled in sync with his grovelling body, delicate and on the verge of collapse. He held her to the ground, his legs almost giving way.

    He looked shattered before the attack. Now, he was beyond broken.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± he asked her, breaking into more glassy sobs. More liquid dribbled onto her face. He pleaded, ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    His gruff groans haunted her. But she still attempted to come to life despite the lack of oxygen.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ I¡¯m fine.¡± She coughed up something. More liquid poured onto the ground next to her. ¡°Sin, what¡¯s¡­¡±

    Her vision expanded. It was Sinjin¡¯s presence that breathed life into her.

    But her breath hitched, the life draining from her drained face.

    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ put away¡­¡±

    The sirens buried his sobs.

    Bloody discharge spattered Cosima and the ground below, discharging from the ballooned lump clawing out of Sinjin¡¯s back. The tearing of skin and clothing ripped the air, a dark tortoise shell surfacing from his rear. The carapace quaked, fighting against its host¡¯s reluctance and autonomy.

    It weighed on him. He cried out.

    He weighed on her. She cried out.

    She weighed on the earth. It didn¡¯t cry out.

    It accepted her, keeping itself close to her heart. It was like a friend, throwing its hands over her and spoonfeeding her with illusive comfort. However, it wasn¡¯t a friend in need, a bosom buddy, or some saving grace.

    It was just there, existing. A friend who was only present when her life came apart at the seams, enjoying her misfortune like a fiend.

    The fires around her raged. Shouts on all sides of her echoed. The sirens closed in further.

    The warning signs were there. But Cosima still couldn¡¯t fly. She was bound to be grounded.

    As her vision faded once more¡ªthe weight of everything pressing harder on her¡ªshe came to terms with her situation. She accepted that she¡¯d have to make friends in low places.

    Accepting things was something that had never changed for her.

    So she¡¯d accept unconsciousness.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    She could vaguely hear the rapping of boots, ambulance alarms, and the pulling of stretchers. She even heard Sinjin¡¯s sobs wane as he joined her in oblivion, helped off of her by people making incoherent demands at one another.

    It didn¡¯t remove the weight; her lover¡¯s anguished face and shell persisted in her sleeping mind. Cursory reminders of the new ground she was walking on¡ªfleeting images of an elaborate shift in their lives.

    Then, the world faded to black, preventing her from processing the enormity of it all.

    Everything continued moving like quicksilver, leaving her in the dust.

    <hr>

    The dust never settles; it¡¯s a quicksilver whirlwind from start to finish.

    Red and blue lights filled Tawny¡¯s world, but she still processed everything around her.

    ¡°Crap,¡± Tawny said under her breath, scowling at the masked officers pooling out of their police cars with pistols equipped. ¡°Right.¡±

    The clicks of metalware forced her feline legs into a crouch. She eyed the attacker she had blinded temporarily, watching him writhe at the cops¡¯ feet, covering his nose from the rank air.

    He has some good destructive power. They¡¯re definitely taking him away.

    ¡°Tawny Tonner, stand down!¡± The woman swivelled on her paw, meeting the direction of the bold voice. A tan man stood there with his gun¡¯s muzzle glaring at her. ¡°Once again, you have the right to remain silent¡ª¡±

    It was the same song playing for the billionth time. So she studied her next challenger, focusing her cat eye on his attire.

    Lieutenant Hilario Gallardo? SDD badge. Explains why his uniform is tailored to be sleeveless. He needs to fit those long arms and sharp nails on his right hand. He¡¯s holding the gun in his left hand, which¡ª

    ¡°How many times are we going to have to play your games?¡± Hilario questioned, a weary lilt in his voice. His pistol danced in his fingers, reeling towards Tawny¡¯s downed opponent. ¡°I¡¯m assuming he caused the damages? Your track record shows that you aren¡¯t capable of killing. You¡¯re more of a property damage person, so¡­¡±

    They always talked to her like chums¡ªcasual and straightforward. It was as if she had friends in high places. But this meant that they were also on their high horses. They neared her without the intention of hugging; her keen hearing knew handcuffs and tasers were at the ready. No matter how straightforward they acted towards her, she believed she wasn¡¯t thick enough in the head to ignore the gap between her and this collective, despite them slowly moving closer to her.

    Everyone there knew the drill. Tawny did, too. Her track record had been drilled into her head, leaving an imprint.

    It was an instinct. From pure experience in a field where one¡¯s words fell on deaf ears and stony ground, most were blind to the power behind speech. All because they¡¯re being conflicted against.

    But she remained genuine and straightforward, even to the cops.

    So she followed her honest instinct, with the police and ambulance sirens resonating in her head.

    She ran.

    Before Hilario could open his mouth again, she leapt over her circle of challengers, earning an immediate response from them as she hurried down the motorway.

    Bullets flew, nipping at her tails, clothes, and skin. They never got under her skin, resulting in minor bruises and cuts.

    They¡¯re not going for any killing blows. They really want to take me in.

    The bullets stopped. But Tawny didn¡¯t, despite how weighty her body was. She could feel all her tails dangling behind her with each step. But no one was on them yet.

    Crap, I think one of them is bleeding¡ª

    A sharp pang shocked the back of her head, sending her into a mad scramble. She released a pained screech, her skull ringing and wringing from the impact.

    Clutching the back of her head, she glimpsed behind her to witness a pistol clattering on the floor.

    He threw an effin¡¯ gun?

    Luckily, it didn¡¯t leave a mark on her. The head stopped ringing.

    Before she could question the absurdity further, Hilario led the charge with a small group of his companions, his ravenous right claw itching to strike at her. Police cars following the chase were part of the script as well.

    In a quick step, Hilario raked at Tawny¡¯s shoulders, shredding the material as the catwoman dodged.

    The officer followed through with a downward slash and fluidity in his movement as he missed her. He began parrying away one of her tails without fail.

    Hilario clawed at her rapidly, urging her onto her favored defensive. However, she wasn¡¯t in her element; continuous movement strained her legs.

    At least I¡¯m getting further from the loud noises. I¡¯m away from the broken shrapnel, so all-fours¡ª

    Hilario¡¯s left palm forced itself forward and¡ªin a heartbeat¡ªpushed Tawny down the street without any contact.

    ¡°Crap!¡± Tawny cursed, rolling across the roadside before recovering in a hunched slide. Her tailbones cried out from the friction, urging her to massage them briefly.

    However, sharp nails were quickly massaging her bare shoulder, attempting to puncture the mutated brown region of her pale skin.

    She frowned. The tickling was annoying. But she wouldn¡¯t let it get under her skin; she¡¯d just take care of it.

    Unfazed, she palmed the nails away, the white stalks retracting into a calm Hilario¡¯s hand. A trickle of blood left from the attacked area. Minor.

    Run.

    In the middle of turning, an electric sizzle sounded, a pair of sharp darts zipping towards where Tawny¡¯s recently tickled shoulder used to be.

    A taser. Why did they think that would work?

    Even if her tailbone resisted, she got on all fours, darting down the road with little to no challenge.

    ¡°Don¡¯t shoot,¡± Hilario commanded from behind as she distanced herself further from the platoon.

    Why does he sound so calm? Aren¡¯t they gonna chase me?

    She winced at her weak attempts to shrug off the pain in her lower back. Even with her tolerance, recovering from rare rear pains sent crippling shocks through her body.

    What¡¯s up with me and electricity today?

    Like hell and high lightning, a uniformed figure stood in the middle of the isolated road, stopping Tawny in her tracks. She remained quadrupedal, her wrinkled scowl making her look like a wildcat.

    Oh. Perfect.

    She didn¡¯t need to read the badge to know who this man was. His one empty sleeve blew in the humid wind as he patiently waited for something.

    Her.

    Him.

    ¡°Hey! Miss Tawny!¡± She could hear the juvenile smugness yet calm professionalism on his face. ¡°My name¡¯s Captain Hugi. Gideon Hugi of the San Diego Discipliners. What have you been up to?¡±

    She knew him. He knew her.

    It was strange how the tail pain pulsed during the encounter. No matter how far this officer stood from her, he always found a way to be on her tail whenever she tried to change others¡¯ thoughts on the world. Without fail, he¡¯d always be her most ambitious challenger.

    He was always at arm¡¯s length, a risky play from a one-armed captain.

    She didn¡¯t bother to entertain his question. But he didn¡¯t let the silence bug him.

    ¡°I¡¯m heading the Skid Row Berserker case,¡± Gideon announced, rubbing his hairy mouse-like snout. ¡°It¡¯s one of our largest cases yet. We¡¯re dealing with a maniac with many strong traits and a cure inside him. So, I¡¯d like to be in top shape for the next investigations.¡±

    She remained silent.

    ¡°I mean¡ªwell, if you are kind enough to stop resisting consequence, as you¡¯ve done many times already.¡± The sly confidence he always gave her in his gradually friendlier lectures boiled her blood. ¡°I mean¡­ when you protest with the intent for your opponents to face the consequences they¡­ presumably deserve, isn¡¯t it fair for you to also face the consequences of your actions?¡±

    She glared without response; she wouldn¡¯t let him get into her head. She looked around for a means of escape.

    ¡°You¡¯re about¡­ 14-something years older than I am?¡± The captain began his stroll towards her. ¡°Exactly what kind of god are you trying to play here?¡±

    She wouldn¡¯t let him get into her head.

    I¡¯ll get to the other side of the freeway and into the traffic. But he¡¯s fast.

    She felt his childish smile as he added, ¡°My name comes from a pretty godly figure, to be honest! But you don¡¯t see me trying to avoid consequences. You can¡¯t even put your tails away, so trying to hide from authority is futile.¡± He yawned. ¡°Please, just make this easy.¡±

    She wouldn¡¯t let him get into her head.

    So she poised her hands and legs for the run she had to do.

    ¡°Good on you for not killing, though. Your jail time will practically be¡ª¡±

    A thunderclap.

    Gideon strode towards Tawny, manifesting in front of her face before she could blink. Her eyes flickered at the speed, watching the man¡¯s bare heel rise above her.

    ¡°Miranda Rights!¡± His right heel came down on her, and without even touching her, she felt her body crash into the ground, a sudden weight glueing her to the asphalt. She gasped, spit flying at the impact as she lay face-down.

    It didn¡¯t hurt much. Gideon didn¡¯t get into her head. But as soon as the incoming sirens came into the picture, the pain and gravity of her situation weighed on her.

    She swallowed her bile, kickstarting a series of groans in her stomach. But she didn¡¯t swallow down her pride; she needed that to keep exacting her messages.

    The shutting of car doors brought back the bile in her throat.

    ¡°Is she resisting, Captain?¡± Hilario¡¯s voice. ¡°By the way, sir, fix your fly¡ª¡±

    ¡°I raised my leg up a bit too much.¡± A zip sounded. Handcuffs rung. Her stomach wrung; it wanted to lash out.

    Footsteps.

    ¡°She may belch again. Keep your masks up, guys. You too, Captain¡ª¡±

    ¡°I forgot mine.¡± A cough. Gideon placed a foot on her head, urging her to balloon her cheeks. He fought off her whirling tails with some trouble, evident from the grunts she could hear. ¡°Lieutenant, I said ¡®Miranda Rights!¡¯ when I¡­ uh¡­ repelled her to the ground.¡±

    The footsteps neared. Tawny¡¯s stomach gurgled more.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Really. Like I¡¯m some¡­ superhero or something¡ª¡±

    ¡°I think this woman¡¯s delusionality is rubbing on you, sir.¡±

    They had a brief chuckle. Her stomach churned.

    Handcuffs dangled over her. Her stomach churned.

    ¡°I mean, at least I¡¯m doing something worthwhile with my life. I¡¯m still grounded in reality.¡±

    Her stomach churned.

    Pigs could fly. It wasn¡¯t impossible, to her misfortune.

    So why couldn¡¯t she?

    What was holding her back?

    A weight. But it didn¡¯t crush her body. It didn¡¯t sap her life away. It didn¡¯t suffocate her.

    She could feel the weight. It was there.

    So she had to stop being silent and open her mouth.

    So, as she felt the metal of the handcuffs touch her hand, she writhed and vomited a green substance onto the ground, forcing Gideon to reel away from her in shock.

    ¡°What the f¡ª¡±

    Then, like a wild animal, she flipped onto her burning tailbones and released all her pent-up caution and bile in an ear-splitting blast of quicksilver wind.

    She couldn¡¯t bite the dust just yet.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 11: DèŒ…gradèŒ… Embroidery

    She could bite the dust right there and then. But she wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°My eyes are heavy,¡± Tanairy grumbled, repeatedly blinking at the table before her. She lurched out of her slump, hovering over a steaming cup of green tea. She clasped the cup delicately, pulling it away from the saucer and holding the mouth of the cup below her nose. A bouquet swayed into her nose, kneading her senses and soothing the alerts in her head. She subconsciously rubbed her nose with the tip of her thumb, trying to augment the serenity that purified her. Her brain, despite its weariness, smiled. It smiled more than it should have. Her once-raging heart from minutes prior mellowed.

    And she hadn¡¯t even taken her first sip yet.

    ¡°Are you feeling better?¡± She glanced towards Theta and Danae, who sat across her on the dining table. They wore warm looks on their faces and eagerness in their posture. Theta prodded again, ¡°Hope the meds and tea are to your liking.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re acting like meds are built to be tasty,¡± Danae said, fiddling with the petals in her eye.

    ¡°Anything can be tasty if you¡¯re desperate for it, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    ¡°The hell are you on about?¡±

    ¡°Well¡ª¡±

    ¡°If I had, say, runny diarrhoea¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡ª¡±

    ¡°Very painful diarrhoea¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes¡ª¡±

    ¡°Loperamide tablets wouldn¡¯t suddenly become a Michelin star meal. They¡¯re still bitter as hell.¡±

    ¡°But they do the job at solving the issue¡ª

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°The aftermath is tasty. If it works in reducing discomfort, then it¡¯s relaxing.¡±

    ¡°I find it hard to equate form and function like that¡ª¡±

    ¡°Satisfaction is the best taste. I eat a salad knowing that feeling healthy is tasty, not because the thing is tasty itself.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ But no one¡¯s having drugs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Well, unless you¡¯re an addict.¡±

    Theta rested his elbows on the table. He questioned, ¡°You think drug addicts perceive¡­ uh, taste differently than non-addicts?¡±

    Danae followed suit in posture. She answered, ¡°I¡¯d think so? Like all things, especially nowadays, your environment will shape your natural composition¡ª¡±

    Tanairy did not follow suit; she couldn¡¯t keep up with their random back-and-forth. Her mind lolled around, the buzzwords and fuzzwords going through one ear and out the other, like the buzzing and fuzzing of static. Her mouth was agape, still attempting to answer the first question Theta had asked her, only letting out puffs of dead words before the conversation would quickly move forward. So she sipped her tea, reluctant to butt into the elders¡¯ tangent. The hot liquid washed away more of her nerves, shifting her smoothly into a slouch with the cup hovering over her lip. She took in more of the aroma.

    What¡¯s even happening?

    Still sluggish, she took in her surroundings. She had eaten in this dining room the previous day and recalled how reactive she was to Danae¡¯s sudden vine manoeuvre. The same happened an hour or so ago when the vines ambushed her.

    The sudden shock of recent events drew her azure eyes to the bandaged wrist. Despite that being the first time the mutation acted up, the phantom of the bulb remained. It didn¡¯t hurt; she was numb out of her mind. But it was there. It was a part of her, apparently ready to rip out of her skin and gape open.

    So that¡¯s how it feels. Terrible.

    The back-and-forth paused. Theta grabbed the leafy bulb from the floor, slapping the dark mass on the table. A few of the decaying petals had already withered from the bulb.

    The shock of the event returned to her; she almost choked on her tea.

    ¡°Dunno if it¡¯s traumatic or not, but this is the bulb you conjured.¡± Theta wheeled it back and forth with his finger. Tanairy kept the tea close to her nose, attempting to block out the putrid odour from the bulb. The two other adults were unperturbed. ¡°Obviously, it operates on your blood, so when cut from its source, it dies completely.¡±

    ¡°It stinks.¡± Danae pointed at her wrist. ¡°You also had some reddish spots on your wrist, similar to the salamander in your DNA.¡±

    Tanairy kept her eyes glued to the bulb, its ghostly presence lingering stronger on her arm. The sirens in her head surfaced once more.

    She downed her tea quickly, maintaining her internal calmness. Putting the cup down on the saucer and feeling herself loosen up, she simply answered, ¡°Oh.¡±

    Danae held up a teapot, shaking it lightly in front of Tanairy. The latter picked up on the gesture, almost flinching when the other woman tilted the teapot.

    ¡°Thank you, Danae.¡± She watched her cup refill, the aroma making her innate questioning calmer.

    She¡¯s using her hands now. Did she use too much blood or something?

    Tanairy sipped her cup, swimming in her slow thoughts. Her eyes fluttered, blinking away the weariness.

    Why did she use vines the first time? It was frightening seeing them come out of nowhere.

    ¡°Now we know that your mutation responds to intense stimuli well,¡± Theta said, giving Tanairy a thoughtful smile. ¡°Now it¡¯s just manipulating it, which should be easy once it has happened once¡ªimplicit memory and all that.¡±

    Theta gave her a toothy smile, adding, ¡°So, congrats; you¡¯ve awakened your inner animal. Welcome to Harmonization Culture!¡±

    She held the cup to her lips, unable to digest everything in her cup and the conversation.

    Welcome? Why does it feel like a cult initiation? How can they be smiling at this?

    She had too many questions. So she quickly sought solace in her tea.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Tanairy murmured before gulping down her second round of sedation. What else could be said? She knew how disturbing the whole culture around harmonization was. But now that she was tapping into its waters without looking at it from a distance, the palpable murkiness was finally at the tip of her fingers.

    Hot, uncharted waters. But by hell or high water, she had to keep her head high and roll in the deep.

    I have to go along with it, I guess. There¡¯s no better alternative.

    ¡°Y¡¯know, people would use a lowercase ¡®c¡¯ for ¡®culture¡¯.¡± Theta rocked back in his chair, tapping his finger against the dead flower bulb. ¡°However, I keep telling people that a capital ¡®c¡¯ is what we should start using because in my honest opinion¡ªlike all the effects of radiation¡ªHarmonization Culture is a disease.¡±

    Tanairy blinked rapidly, diminishing a new wave of confusion mixed with her drowsiness. She carefully placed her cup on the saucer, eyeing the casual looks the other adults wore with scrunched eyebrows.

    ¡°Huh? How does¡­¡± She coughed, trying to navigate around the statement. ¡°But most diseases are common nouns, except for a few like Alzheimer¡¯s¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡ª¡±

    ¡°So what makes this one proper?¡±

    She watched him shuffle in his seat as if he were getting comfortable for an explanation.

    Why am I even questioning him?

    ¡°It¡¯s because, compared to many diseases, this one is still very new,¡± Theta said, playing catch with the bulb. ¡°The coronal mass ejection¡ªCME¡ªthat happened five years ago is what caused us to be able to fuse and harmonize with organisms. On top of that, the higher dosage of cosmic alcohol caused mutations in nearly everyone.¡±

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    He dropped the bulb, sending the plant corpse ricocheting from the table to the ground.

    ¡°However, these cosmic rays are more than just the common geomagnetic storms and solar flares.¡± His voice strained as he tried to pick up his dropped item. ¡°They¡¯re supernatural, pretty much unreal. Unreal enough to make the sky an eternal aurora. Unreal enough to make people like my wife-eh have a plant come out of her eye.¡±

    ¡°I look cool as hell¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s facts! Hup¡±¡ªhe tossed the bulb into the air and caught it¡ª¡±and also, the biggest unreal thing that this radiation brought is that people can now have powers. It¡¯s as if we¡¯re in some weird supernatural movie.¡±

    He smirked at a frozen Tanairy, pointing her produce at her.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound too common now, does it?¡± Theta pointed at his button nose and then at his caracal cat ears. ¡°When humans have access to some form of esotericism, we have obviously fallen into unnatural territory.¡±

    Tanairy pursed her lips, letting the explanation slowly soak into her head.

    ¡°Ah. True¡­ I see.¡±

    It didn¡¯t soak in as easily as tea, so she instinctively reached for the teapot. But Danae shooed her away; she served her instead. Then, Tanairy began her third cup, delving into her thoughts as she did so.

    Yep, he definitely has a unique outlook on life. It was obvious from his doctrine explanation yesterday.

    She pinched the bridge of her nose, placing her near-finished cup down. She attempted to squint just enough to block out the image of the bulb.

    I forgot that I even came here for supposed training. Is one event all there is to it? Will my body know when to act all the time?

    She huffed and took another quick sip, trying to soothe the torrents of her confusion.

    Scary¡­

    ¡°You feeling ok, Ryd?¡± Theta leaned in his seat; how hadn¡¯t he slipped off yet? ¡°I have a few more questions to ask, and it may help you find a direction.¡±

    Tanairy blinked. Her eyes were probably out of sync, so she wasn¡¯t sure what she did. She scratched the tip of her hairline and muttered, ¡°Direction?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Theta rolled the bulb around the table, the sight of the dead plant coming back like a vengeance. ¡°You assimilated an animal into yourself; you burned a bridge, as you already know.¡±

    He tapped the bulb.

    ¡°And on the topic of disease, Harmonization Culture isn¡¯t just the effect of harmonization¡ªit¡¯s the cause and intention as well.¡±

    He flicked the bulb.

    ¡°So, I¡¯m curious.¡± He tapped the bulb again. ¡°What drove you to do this? Why did you come to me, especially since you knew my provisions had more special capabilities? How did the disease come to you? For the common reason of self-defense like most people, I assume? Curiosity? Furtherment in a hobby? Or¡­¡±

    ¡°Self-defense. Yeah,¡± Tanairy answered, quicker than she wanted. She repeated, slower, ¡°Self-defense.¡±

    He flicked the bulb again.

    ¡°I see.¡± Theta continued his rhythm, nodding intently. ¡°Fair enough, fair enough.¡±

    Silence. The man¡¯s rhythm didn¡¯t stop, and she could see him visibly generating questions in his head while humming a tune.

    ¡°Well, that makes sense.¡± He cleared his throat, adding a knock to his bulb rhythm. ¡°A lot of people also go for the route of being suited up enough to fight for that new elusive cure that spawns randomly in different organisms. I assume that¡¯s what, uh, Miss Manco, was it?

    ¡°Yes, dear,¡± Danae affirmed, coming out of her silence. ¡°Cosima¡­ Manco? Yeah¡ª¡±

    ¡°Think it¡¯s the past curse of being a teacher that always makes me terrible with names or something,¡± Theta suggested, chuckling with each word.

    ¡°It hasn¡¯t gotten better.¡±

    Tanairy finished her tea, pausing her drinking action to give herself time to think.

    Well, at least I know he has an academic background. Or they¡¯re fabricating it¡­ People hide a lot of stuff nowadays.

    She put the cup down.

    I¡¯ll be hopeful, though. The two do seem to know a lot, science-wise.

    ¡°Anyways, I don¡¯t see why you¡¯d need the cure. You barely look mutated, or if you have been mutated, the physical changes are practically unnoticeable.¡± Theta stopped his rhythm. ¡°It¡¯s as if you weren¡¯t even affected.¡±

    ¡°Well, actually, my nose got a little pointier¡­ and my eyebrows got a little hairier.¡± Tanairy slumped in her seat and looked into space, speaking aloud, ¡°I still got to check through my ancestry or something.¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±

    ¡°My eyes are also bluer,¡± Tanairy said, rubbing her eyes before widening them to keep herself alert. She found herself smiling as she released her fingers from her eyelids. ¡°Jellyfish eyeballs.¡±

    Theta chuckled his usual gruff chuckle, starting up his rhythm once again. He said, ¡°It kind of reminded me of tonic water the first time I saw them yesterday when I was explaining my views upstairs.¡±

    Tanairy shuddered, the previous day¡¯s events shaking her to her core. To her, the perspective he spoke of yesterday was rotten; it rocked her to her core that another human could think of letting things that have thoughts of self-harm have what they want.

    He applied it to only animals, though. It¡¯s still disgusting.

    ¡°Speaking of which, you were the only one to react in such a quick way to my views.¡± Theta drummed the bulb slower. But his keen gaze bore into her soul; it was as sharp as the bulb that used to be jutting out of her skin. ¡°I can see you react to things pretty quickly. First, it was the reflex at this very dining table yesterday. Then it was upstairs. You responded fast to a surprise attack today as well.¡±

    He began rotating the bulb as he spoke, adding, ¡°It¡¯s almost the same both before and after the assimilation of the salamander. So, this reflex of yours makes you seem constantly on your feet. And you¡­ went down this path because of self-defense reasons.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah.¡± Tanairy clutched her trousers.

    The sirens began bypassing the effects of the tea. She could almost feel herself coming back to life instead of being tired.

    What is this? What¡¯s going on?

    Her wrist ached.

    ¡°You seemed very passionate about helping people, and you were very¡­ sympathetic towards the dying animals.¡± He gave her a glistening smile, not doing enough to loosen her up. ¡°I can tell you¡¯re a very kind person. You must come from a place of care.¡±

    She remained tensed, trying to maintain eye contact with him. But her hazy eyes kept trailing back to her empty cup. She needed more tea; her heart needed more tea.

    Danae delivered and poured her some more without having to ask.

    ¡°I do have a question, Ryd.¡± He tilted his head and scratched at his beard. ¡°Do you have a job? Do you work closely with people?¡±

    She paused midway through her fourth cup to process the question. Placing it down, she nodded and replied, with little to no elaboration, ¡°I have¡­ some experience.¡±

    ¡°Social work?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Theta released the bulb in his hands to fiddle with his earlobe in thought. ¡°Well, honestly, that makes sense. That¡¯s why you probably disagreed with what I said yesterday. Fair enough; it is part of teaching and discovery¡ªlearning different views and all that. It¡¯s nature.¡±

    Tanairy tensed more, watching Theta¡¯s hand stretch across the table.

    ¡°Apologies if I said anything to your disliking,¡± Theta said.

    This man confuses me¡­ I have to shake his hand.

    Tanairy rigidly shook the hairy hand, glimpsing at Theta¡¯s goofy grin and Danae¡¯s monotonous stare.

    It feels like I¡¯m being studied.

    Their hands released each other.

    ¡°However, we must agree to disagree.¡± Theta resumed his rhythm. ¡°It¡¯s October 2039; we are nearing the beginning of a new decade. This world has transformed drastically, so in my opinion, we cannot risk any sort of leniency when it comes to hyper-serious matters such as the fate of many human lives.¡±

    An iPhone on the table buzzed, lighting up to reveal many WhatsApp messages from different users flashing by at light speeds. The sound drew Tanairy¡¯s wide eyes to the screen in a heartbeat, watching the notifications go by across a white wallpaper with what she could make out as a picture of a serpent eating its tail.

    ¡°Must be the group chat,¡± Theta said, lacing his fingers on the table. ¡°By the way, you saw the whole Gallon list, right? Because I assume you may have understandable problems with that.¡±

    Put off by the new subject, Tanairy looked down at the table.

    ¡°Yeah, it was a bit weird to me,¡± she muttered near the end of her sentence. She drank more tea, but for some reason, her brain wanted her to keep hearing the sirens.

    ¡°We pick out eight criminals out of the¡­ effin¡¯ zillion that suddenly appeared in the US. Well, we mostly went for ones that have performed crimes in Los Angeles or, largely, Cali.¡± Theta explained, grabbing his phone as he quickly unlocked it and scrolled through apps. The WhatsApp notifications kept streaming in. ¡°As a result of the big bad CME we had five years ago, we¡¯ve had a surge of criminals of many types: serial killers, assaulters, psychopaths, revolutionists, kidnappers, etcetera, etcetera.¡±

    Tanairy flinched, drinking her tea slowly.

    ¡°But we picked out a mix of popular and unpopular cases. Deadly and undeadly cases. Common and rare cases.¡± Theta slid his phone around to show Tanairy the list of the eight criminals:

    *Saint Sabin

    *Tawny Tonner (Dingus)

    *Oswald Oz (possible exception)

    *Pina Pica

    *Spanner Springer

    *Itsy

    *Whatsit (¡®Skid Row Berserker¡¯)

    *Newton Neuville

    ¡°But what they all have in common is that they have very transformed appearances.¡±

    Tanairy finished all her tea, placing the empty cup back down.

    ¡°You know what that means, right?¡± Theta quizzed her, huffing his chest out and folding his arms. ¡°It means that they are carrying around strong animal and esoteric traits that should not be further harmonized with. Because, say, these criminals get ensnared and assimilated by another person with strong traits, this means that we get someone like the recent Skid Row Berserker.¡±

    He pointed at the name on the list with a sharp finger.

    ¡°He caused a huge massacre in Skid Row due to his now powerful genes and is a threat. On top of that, since he possesses the cure from eyewitness reports, he has become eye candy for the people wanting this cure.¡± Tanairy shivered under Theta¡¯s dark gaze. ¡°If more hunters go after this monster, we expect more deaths, along with him getting stronger the more he intakes.¡±

    He pointed at every name on the list.

    ¡°That¡¯s why all of them need to die and have their corpses destroyed, so no one gets their hands on such powers.¡±

    Tanairy¡¯s heart drummed with Theta¡¯s bulb drumming. She could feel her heart in her throat as she asked in a horrified voice, ¡°Even Oswald? Isn¡¯t¡­ he the child school shooter?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s our one exception, but I¡¯m afraid that since he¡¯s a child, he may be easily deceived and ensnared. He¡¯s practically missing. Who knows about his whereabouts?¡±

    Her eyes became glossier, and she felt like the teacup would shatter in her hand.

    That¡¯s messed the hell up. So, so messed the eff¡¯ up.

    ¡°It¡¯s basic food chain stuff. It¡¯s nature,¡± Theta said firmly, his steady eyes reading the woman crippling in the seat opposite her. ¡°It is what it is. We look at jailed criminals like Saint and PP as well, since they can cause problems within confinement. But that¡¯s a can of worms for another day.¡±

    Theta¡¯s phone stopped buzzing as an incoming call appeared on his screen. Tanairy took a hazy peek through the gaps between her fingers, spotting the caller¡¯s name as ¡°Eggs Benedict¡±.

    ¡°We¡¯re mostly relying on the SDD¡¯s competency in actually destroying these criminals and not letting them be harmonized with again or escape¡ªwait, lemme take this.¡±

    Theta heaved himself from his seat, tapping the green button and putting the phone to his ear. He started the conversation, ¡°¡®Sup, Benny¡ªno, I haven¡¯t read the chats yet.¡±

    Tanairy woke from her hunched form, looking up at Danae, who smiled at her warmly. Her heartbeat quickened. She broke out in sweats again. Her wrapped wrist ached more.

    Why is this so stressful? Nothing much has happened yet. Why is this so stressful?

    She needed more tea.

    ¡°He used to be a professor, so he really likes dumping his whole brain out onto the table,¡± Danae reassured, pouring her more tea. The older woman shook the empty teapot. ¡°He says we¡¯re in a superhero movie, and he¡¯s certainly info-dumping like he is in one.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Danae.¡±

    Tanairy attempted a smile but wasted no time and began her fifth cup, trying to drown out her unease. She put the cup down, breathing in and out. In and out. In and out.

    That¡¯s what she felt today would be: in and out. But it felt like she had been in there for an eternity. Worse, she was there practically alone.

    Didn¡¯t the other two say they¡¯d come? Where are they? They were probably smarter than me and avoided it¡ª

    ¡°Eff¡¯ me! That idiot escaped again?¡± Theta¡¯s gruff voice boomed across the room, bringing the other two to face the pacing man. ¡°That effin¡¯ dingus escaped again? These police are useless!¡±

    The man kept blowing up over the phone.

    ¡°Ah, damn.¡± Danae pinched her forehead, adjusting herself in her seat to face Tanairy. ¡°The dingus is back.¡±

    Tanairy tried to sit up, unable to comprehend what was happening. ¡°Who¡¯s back?¡±

    ¡°Tawny Tonner probably made another move and a successful escape attempt on top of that.¡± Danae paused as Theta let out some steam before stopping again. ¡°As you can tell, the oaf hates her guts.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡±

    Her gut wrenched. She didn¡¯t quite know why. But the sirens overpowered the weariness, reminding her of the hot, uncharted waters she waded into.

    But right now, all she could digest was the hot tea in her cup. It tired her out and helped her fight her internal battles.

    Her brain would never let the dust settle.

    So she drank more.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 12: Dyeing Industry

    She coughed.

    Where am I?

    Cosima received a dusty answer: background chatter, mechanical and systematic beeping, and a sharp pain chewing at her being. Her gut wrenched, and her scraggy body jolted at the sly pools of light overflowing her sockets.

    She didn¡¯t think she was delusional¡ªthis much light was hallucinatory. From what she could piece together, a shred of light was all she was used to.

    However, the more she awoke, the more the cottony foam of the bed below her became familiar.

    It felt like home¡ªthe sacred bedroom where her waning mind wondered and wandered.

    Then¡ªif she could squint and be gullible enough to fall for tricks of light¡ªshe could imagine the blinding lights dousing her from spotlights hanging over her like shower heads. The light would glisten, bounce off her porcelain skin, and bless onlookers¡¯ bright eyes.

    It would make her a star.

    But the more she awoke, the more squinting and being gullible scarred her. Reality blinded her sockets like the sun; she got too close. Her delusions burnt up, and she blazed the more she attempted to move and stand her ground in the spotlight.

    Then she came crashing down to earth, her head tilting to see her limp purple arms on the bed. Within the crater of defeat, her crater-faced frown stung, leaving her lightheaded at her grandiose thoughts.

    Torturing herself with faraway dreams, she must¡¯ve been a glutton for punishment, but her skinny frame could barely fill up her bed or the shoes she used to fill in her prime.

    Her vision cleared, and everything became grandiose¡ªlarger than she could ever become. The light shower turned cold.

    ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Cosima droned, the cold air brushing her skin. She shuffled shakily in her bed, the white of a tent¡¯s canopy coming into view. Her head dawdled to the right on her pillow. She studied the concrete floor and the flapping walls of the tent, capturing tufts of grass on the other side of the tent walls as the wind blew.

    Outside?

    The shuffling of feet filled her ears, accompanied by trollies rolling and hurried voices and orders.

    There were other distant sounds. The whirring of machines. The wailing of pained strangers. The bumble of a hellish night.

    Sirens, too.

    She wished she could block out the sounds, shrugging tightly in a futile attempt to block out the truth. But her ability to desire dissipated the more she understood her surroundings.

    Everything clicked slower than it should¡¯ve.

    Hospital. Oh.

    Her brain clicked faster.

    Sin!

    Before frantically looking around, a deep voice struck her from her right side.

    ¡°Cos¡­¡± The pause was loud and raspy. ¡°You awake?¡±

    ¡°Yes! I¡¯m here!¡± Cosima shook at the scare, tilting her body painfully to her right side.

    Infusion pumps. Heart monitors. Many other medical trinkets stood within her gaze.

    But she couldn¡¯t care; he was alive.

    ¡°Sin, thank¡ª¡±

    She faced him fully.

    No¡­

    Cosima wouldn¡¯t be lying if she said she hadn¡¯t seen the light of her life at his lowest moments. But lying on his bare chest in a hospital bed, Sinjin was a dark sight.

    No¡­

    The tortoise shell wasn¡¯t there. But it left behind a wasteland on the fleshy terrain. Countless cysts and boils bubbled from his back, on the verge of geysering thick pus into the air. Bleeding blisters surrounded tubes that punctured his skin, and his sombre expression bled into her mind.

    Her mind flashed to his bloodcurdling breakdown back in the accident.

    No, no, no¡­

    She didn¡¯t know what sounds she was making. But her hoarse voice shuddered, trying to piece an emotion together, not knowing how to progress and tackle what was in front of her. She was being loud; she didn¡¯t even know if she was crying.

    She kept croaking his name, trembling at the cold, callous croaking of the wind and bubbles on her lover¡¯s back.

    Her mind repeatedly flashed back to the accident, the memory a devilish wart that spiked her discomfort.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    A danger rose in her throat, and before she knew it, she was coughing up hot mucus onto her palms.

    ¡°Cosimama, are you ok?¡± Sinjin asked, his voice scarred and deprived of life. He shifted his bulk on the sheets just enough to get a better view of Cosima on the other bed. ¡°The nurse said that she¡¯d be back in a bit.¡±

    Why¡­Why¡¯s he always worrying about me first?

    She stared at her palms, wet with a slimy green and paralyzed by the frigidity of her surroundings. Her mouth hung agape, sputtering incoherent cries like a broken record.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be too loud, ok? Be mindful of other patients.¡± He hid more of his face in his arms, his words coming out as a rough mumble. All she could see was a bloodshot eye. ¡°I¡¯m not dead. I¡¯m alright. Yep.¡±

    She swore one of the boils had just burst again on his back; she wanted to throw up. She had to throw up the stuck words.

    ¡°But Sin, those boils are no joke!¡± Cosima said in a quick burst, failing to sit upright and falling flat onto the bed.

    ¡°Yes, I know they aren¡¯t. I ain¡¯t laughing.¡± His dry humor came with a dry cough. ¡°But we¡¯re alive, thank God¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sin¡ª¡±

    ¡°We are so effing lucky to be the ones struck by some random attack,¡± Sinjin said with sarcasm tinged in his words, swinging his swollen arm over the bedside. His voice was as monotonous as the singing instruments towering over him. ¡°Our car¡¯s hopefully not destroyed. And on top of that, we¡¯re now stuck in American healthcare. Amazing.¡±

    He flailed his arm towards a nearby stand sitting in the middle of the beds, holding two cracked phones on top of it. He wouldn¡¯t allow Cosima to speak. Once again, she was left watching him take some sort of initiative.

    He¡¯s ranting again.

    ¡°Gotta buy you a new¡ª¡±he released a hefty, tired breath¡ª¡±phone as well. I think I¡­ I think I pushed you a bit too hard¡­ or something¡ª¡±

    ¡°I can buy it myself¡ªworry about yourself¡ª¡±

    ¡°You should probably call your parents and tell them that you¡¯re ok¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sin, listen¡ª¡±

    The entrance flaps of the tent flung open, a chilly draft icing the already freezing tension within the tent. Cosima sank into herself, hiding her face behind her hood and arms, as a nurse swept into the tent, armored with protective gear. The noises of the night peaked, the bumbling of vehicles and road work lacing with the hospital hubbub. The tent flaps neared their close, shutting away the sight of staff speeding near other tents and SDD officers on standby.

    The tent entrance shut, the cold air settling like dust.

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re awake, Miss¡­¡± The nurse trailed off on her last word as she checked the pumps plugged into Sinjin¡¯s back.

    ¡°Cosima,¡± Sinjin answered casually, noticing Cosima¡¯s seclusive position.

    ¡°Cosima. I see.¡± The nurse stretched her back out, approaching another stand where a rag sat. She fastened her mask, picking at the rag before grabbing it fully and kneeling at Cosima¡¯s level. The nurse gently pulled the woman¡¯s arm towards her, opening her gangly hands and cleaning the mucus. Cosima would relent, but she read the nurse¡¯s face. The latter¡¯s eyes drooped, dark bags weighing them down behind the visors, focusing on the task. ¡°I¡¯m Aiza. You didn¡¯t sustain many injuries. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s just some soreness, especially from your frail body.¡±

    Cosima¡¯s breath hitched. A few minutes ago, she still would¡¯ve been whisked away in a torrent of delusion, believing she was at her peak. However¡ªas always¡ªshe had to bite the bullet and the reality sandwich. But the words were still knives, twisting into her and leaving her bitter and twisted. With all the twists and turns in her life, she wished to twist her fate and return to the past.

    But as of now, that was pure fiction.

    ¡°You were also coughing up a dark green mucus in your sleep.¡± Aiza chucked the used rag to the ground, grabbed another rag, and wetted it in a water basin between the two beds. She pulled the rag out, twisting it with gloved hands before handing it to Cosima. Her voice had a weary lilt. ¡°Very dark green. It¡¯s as if your body is trying its hardest to fight off a terrible infection.¡±

    Cosima fiddled with her wet towel, scrubbing at her fingers in stiff movements. It was warm, gnawing at the ice on her shaking fingers. It couldn¡¯t gnaw at the purple.

    ¡°You grew a tortoise shell, sir,¡± Aiza said, facing Sinjin¡¯s direction while rotating and stretching her right arm. The man didn¡¯t respond. He simply nodded, letting his blank yet exhausted stare linger. The nurse then looked at Cosima. ¡°The hospital can perform DNA tests, but I guess you also have animal DNA in you, too, right?¡±

    Cosima didn¡¯t respond; she attempted to dodge the nurse¡¯s gaze. Aiza kept on, seemingly too low-energy to wait for a response.

    ¡°The mucus is both too slimy and too green. So, that¡¯s¡±¡ªthe nurse yawned¡ª¡±that. We deal with people like both of you all the time, obviously. Fusing with animals and all that isn¡¯t respected by authorities, but as long as you both aren¡¯t using these genetics for crime, you¡¯re¡­ decently good.¡±

    Cosima felt she was cleaning away some wrong for the second time that week, furiously wiping a mildly tainted slate clean. Aiza took the towel from her; her hands were clean, right?

    Is it really that bad?

    ¡°Sir, I forgot to ask. Is this the first time the shell has appeared?¡± the nurse asked, assessing Sinjin¡¯s bumpy back with squinting eyes.

    ¡°Yes. It is.¡± Sinjin answered as if he were admitting to a crime. ¡°But the weird cysts have been there since the radiation. I gotta be careful with how I sit¡­ and all that.¡±

    ¡°Ah, ¡®kay.¡± Aiza yawned behind her mask again, holding up her visors and wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. She fastened the eyewear and straightened herself. ¡°¡®Ok. You could enlist for abscess incision and drainage treatment if these cysts are giving you problems. You still have bumps on your back, but I¡¯m sure we could drain the discharge and hope they stay out of the way for good.¡±

    Cosima sensed Sinjin¡¯s cogs turning; he was tapping the rim of his bed with a messy rhythm.

    ¡°The procedure involves the use of a topical anaesthetic. So it¡¯s pretty much painless.¡±

    He should accept. No doubt there.

    Sinjin¡¯s cogs kept turning.

    ¡°Sir?¡±

    They stopped.

    ¡°Painless¡­¡± Sinjin slurred, taking in a breath. ¡°That sounds nice, but I¡¯ll decline.¡±

    ¡°How could you¡ª¡±

    ¡°I may consider it later,¡± Sinjin interjected, silencing Cosima and putting her into quiet confusion. ¡°But right now, considering how packed the hospital is, the procedure may be a bit too pricey for me. Or the big spending from the government is lowering that price. I dunno¡­ but I ain¡¯t up to it now.¡±

    Goodness sake.

    ¡°Fair enough reason. I¡¯d argue against declining it¡­ But if it¡¯s financial concerns, I won¡¯t stop you.¡± Aiza picked at her gloves and sat in a chair near the tent¡¯s entrance. ¡°You should stay here until around tomorrow afternoon. I¡¯ll prescribe some antibiotics for your cyst and back pains for tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Cosima would give a thousand thanks if she could easily erase her defects, as her boyfriend could. Even if it were a temporary fix that frequently needed curing, permanent damnation was worse. The world twisted into a fantastical hellscape that the economy couldn¡¯t handle. But there wasn¡¯t a medicine that could mend her into prime form, especially one she could buy with hard money.

    She glanced at her skin again as if she hadn¡¯t done it for the millionth time since she was cursed.

    There¡¯s only really one cure to turn to.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am, you should probably stay here too,¡± Aiza said, stretching her arms out. Cosima looked up from her arms. ¡°Your body is still weak from the events of today, so I¡¯ll also¡±¡ªshe yawned¡ª¡±treat you. Besides, especially in times like these, you and sir are the best emotional support for one another, so it¡¯s good that you stay. Morale is important.¡±

    Is the way to this one cure moral?

    ¡°My Cosimamamama is all I need,¡± Sinjin jested with a broken sing-song voice before coughing dryly.

    That brought her out of her incurable thoughts: she noticed the extra ¡®mama¡¯. She turned to give him a questioning look, which he was already searching for as his gaze was already trained on her, preying on her reaction. Even with her near-unreadable face, he knew what she was thinking and chuckled into his arms.

    The joke wasn¡¯t his best work, but seeing him still be able to be goofy in the state he was in gave her some relief. It was a light relief; she knew she¡¯d be back to swimming in the depths of her mind again. But she wouldn¡¯t lie and think that it wasn¡¯t golden. Anything from him was.

    She mustered a cracked smile.

    He definitely still wants to say more, but glad he¡¯s ok.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good, haha.¡± Aiza let out a muffled chuckle before a rapid beep sounded. The nurse shook off the warmth of her surroundings, discarding her weariness for proactiveness as she handled a buzzer strapped to her waist. ¡°Oh, need to head out to run some errands. I¡¯ll be back to provide anything you guys need. Please excuse me.¡±

    ¡°Alright, thank you, nurse,¡± Sinjin said.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Cosima said after. She wasted no time and began thinking about her present situation.

    ¡°No problem. It¡¯s my job.¡± Aiza tugged at the tent¡¯s entrance, the sounds from outside seeping through the cracks. ¡°And it¡¯s also my job to provide some much-needed advice.¡±

    Both of the patients lingered in thought but still kept their ears open. The nurse turned her head towards them, her dire gaze piercing the visors.

    ¡°You may have your reasons for taking part in harmonization and all that. But¡­ as a medic dealing with others¡¯ problems firsthand, I¡¯ll advise one thing¡­ and hopefully you listen.¡±

    She flung the tent flaps open, and cold air pooled into the tent.

    ¡°Stick to what you have now. Don¡¯t try to push your bodies further.¡±

    And with that, she was out of the tent and into the cold.

    Just like that, the words froze Cosima¡¯s mind into stagnancy.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 13: Stitched Star

    Sinjin pulled away from stagnancy; he was the first¡ªand possibly only one of the two¡ªto break the ice.

    ¡°Man, I miss the NHS.¡± He laughed into his arms again, pumping up and down with the pumps attached. ¡°UK always stumps all. Doesn¡¯t Italy have free healthcare for citizens as well?¡±

    His lightheartedness was somehow warm. It soothed Cosima but could only defrost so much. In the cold light of day¡ªa tasteful salad day where she was clean from cosmic judgment¡ªshe would¡¯ve agreed and hailed their home continent as if they were loyalists. They¡¯d laugh about it, too.

    But her blood ran cold; she questioned her loyalty to following along with the bit and her goal. She was halfway into a half-baked nod and bare-bones quip, but her cogs stopped spinning, and her posture spun down to a stop in a full-lying position.

    The nurse¡¯s words battered her into introspection. She could feel fallen hair strands under her head, wisps of hair once a rich brown tainting a hard pillow. The sheets weren¡¯t clean; her sickliness spread to them in every way possible. She didn¡¯t even feel fit in her own clothes.

    No eyes. Scrawny arms. Scrawny legs. Jagged nails. Crooked teeth. Many other impurities.

    She ticked off each itinerary box for yet another course into misery¡ªit was easy yet tedious. Whenever she bedded down, sleep didn¡¯t even need to take her for the mocking dreams to poke at her brain. They bore and tore into her as a bed of roses unfurled into one of thorns, nailing her into a reality barren of fabrications.

    All her planning the previous day felt like talk rot at the drop of a hat.

    ¡°Let¡¯s talk.¡± His words¡ªamong all others ringing in and outside the tent¡ªhad a familiar ring. She had to release everything from under her hat. It was a binding contract that persisted and a sometimes hidden gift that would never stop giving. ¡°I know you¡¯re in a bind.¡±

    Eye redness or not, there was no escaping such a dire yet supportive look. So she huffed and admitted her iced inner workings to her crutch.

    ¡°Right, uh¡­¡±

    ¡°Buh, buh, buh. Eye contact¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± She took his advice. ¡°I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t even have eyes¡ªI just realized the whole contact thing makes no sense.¡±

    Silence. The far cry of a child from a nearby tent sounded.

    Cosima drew her thin knees into herself, drawing a blank on how to further the conversation. It was a sorry sight, not even being able to look the person closest to her in the face after her comment. Despite the familiar face, she wished to drop out of his sight and sink into the floor below her.

    ¡°But you can still see.¡±

    Cosima hid her face in her knees, staring into the darkness. She let out a muffled groan, ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°We both aren¡¯t sure how¡­ but you can still see. We ended up in some weird explosion accident on that road, but we were some of the few to get in contact with an explosion.¡±

    Cosima loosened her balled-up figure.

    ¡°But we lived. We didn¡¯t die. We lived. We¡¯re blessed¡­¡±

    She looked towards Sinjin, who stared at her with focused eyes.

    ¡°The same goes for five years ago when the radiation hit. About a billion died or something. We¡¯re alive.¡± Sinjin tapped against the side of the bed with a small smile. ¡°I keep telling you that we should be thankful for the lives we live. Could be worse, honestly. Life is crap, but we¡¯re still here.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t deny the truth of his statement. The reality was that they were alive. Just barely, but they could still breathe. The wails of many tents sounded. The consoling voices of anxious doctors reverberated around the hospital complex. She knew many patients died under hospital care daily, manifesting a deadly odor in her nostrils.

    But they weren¡¯t dead.

    That doesn¡¯t¡­

    It didn¡¯t mean that ambition shouldn¡¯t exist.

    ¡°Look, I get that. I really do¡ª¡±

    ¡°I hope so¡ª¡±

    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean that we shouldn¡¯t try to improve our situation¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know tha¡ª¡±

    ¡°You should know that just as much as me¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you annoyed that I¡ª¡±

    ¡°Of course I am.¡± Cosima leaned forward weakly. She spoke quickly and dryly to stress her point. ¡°Sin, permanent fix or not, you don¡¯t just deny help like that.¡±

    ¡°The car, your phone, the faulty stove at home¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t want to pay for it, I would¡ª¡±

    ¡°Dear, leave the finances to me,¡± Sinjin said, sternness lacing his voice. His soft smile faded. He held a finger up to prevent her from talking over him. ¡°It¡¯s basic economics, ain¡¯t it? That procedure would have a long waiting time, and it¡¯s expensive as hell due to the high demand for it. I could be wrong, though. I took Econ at a standard level in my IB thingy¡ª¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re lucky it¡¯s so accessible.¡± Cosima stopped him from rambling. She clutched her sheets with the nails she hated. ¡°You can easily fix your body and be more productive in your work¡ª¡±

    ¡°I want our spending to benefit the both of us, not just me.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    The crying in the background filled the silence. Cosima tried to find the words to question her boyfriend¡¯s logic. What confused her was how he denied it with little hesitation or reconsideration.

    How didn¡¯t he freeze up?

    ¡°But¡­ But seeing you get better benefits me as well.¡±

    ¡°I know, I know¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then why¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the treatment later down the line, but not now. There¡¯s just too much on the plate right now.¡±

    The crying in the background slowed to a stop.

    ¡°Right¡­¡±

    ¡°Also, I think the nurse managed to speed up the healing process through some heat stuff. It¡¯s why I¡¯m not feeling cold. I feel pretty cozy, honestly.¡±

    ¡°Heat? My towel was pretty warm, too.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so even if the cysts will still be there, the burst ones are healing at a good pace. I think that¡¯s as much of a procedure as I need as of now.¡±

    ¡°I see.¡± Cosima lay back on her bed, looking at the tent¡¯s ceiling. ¡°Ok then.¡±

    Getting your body to a better form is probably the most important thing, in my opinion.

    ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re here and alive,¡± Sinjin said, clearing his throat.

    Despite the chilliness, Cosima felt warm herself. ¡°Glad you¡¯re here and alive too.¡±

    They fell into a comfortable silence. People who stood for nothing tended to fall for anything¡ªshe always confronted that thought out of the many degenerative ones. The previous day, she and Sinjin added animals to their DNA; they tapped the tip of the iceberg of Harmonization Culture. As she looked at a thinking Sinjin¡ªthe scars of harmonization riddling his back¡ªshe reminded herself that he awakened his new DNA and sprouted the tortoise shell.

    Was she still in her shell? She held resolve the previous day. But she hadn¡¯t even awakened. Had she even progressed?

    Was she still on the shelf?

    ¡°Sin?¡± She stilled her self-questioning. She noticed him blink back into reality. ¡°Can I ask you something?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to ask for permission, remember? Give me the full monty.¡±

    Whenever Sinjin initiated these talks, both had to lay everything from their minds onto the table. Spilling secrets was prime for understanding one another to the fullest¡ª¡¯the full monty¡¯, as Sinjin would say.

    She coughed and spoke as full-throatily as possible: ¡°Do you think¡­ Do you think that I should try and get the cure?¡±

    Sinjin¡¯s cogs spun again.

    ¡°Please¡±¡ªshe shuffled herself, looking directly at him as he wanted¡ª¡±be honest with me.¡±

    The cogs kept spinning; she was patient.

    They stopped, a puff of wind being the first thing to come out of his mouth.

    ¡°I did suggest that we do what we did yesterday. That is¡­ something I can¡¯t deny.¡± He pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his reddened eyes at her while maintaining contact. ¡°I do want you to get better, obviously. I can¡¯t stop you from wanting that. However, as I¡¯ve said many times, you¡¯re fine the way you are¡ª¡±

    ¡°Sorry to cut you, but no. It¡¯s not fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°And I get that¡ªI get it completely.¡± His voice rose a tad. The softness on his face from his previous statement faded quickly. ¡°But do you really think you can get your hands on something millions and millions of people would quite literally kill for?¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Come on, dear. You heard about Skid Row, right? One transformed murderer holds a cure, and the whole place goes to absolute hell.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s completely different to what you planned yesterday. Remember? ¡®Pacifistic route¡¯? You said we weren¡¯t going for humans¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, but you see, this would be the same thing. Animal populations have suffered due to this as well. Any animal with a cure is not safe. Any plants with a cure aren¡¯t safe, though more hidden depending on location¡ª¡±

    ¡°If you really think about it, then by your logic, we¡¯ll most likely see the cure in humans, isn¡¯t that right?¡± She noticed the weary shock on his face, an odd spark of victory coursing through her. ¡°Because we¡¯re on top of the food chain, and humans do most of the harmonization if I¡¯m not wrong.¡±

    Sinjin kept silent and processed the information. She¡¯d push on.

    ¡°So we just give up here? After only a day? I gave this a bit of thought yesterday. It would mean that if we don¡¯t act now, we miss out on our pacifist options.¡± Cosima patted her duvet rougher than she could manage or expect. ¡°I have¡ªI need to do this, please.¡±

    It all felt like one big industry. Cosima performed research, planning, and anticipation¡ªprocesses she held near and dear to her in her former job. Both industries were vastly different, but from what she knew, both required her to dirty her hands, for better or worse.

    But the sudden surge of untapped confidence got to her head, and she only then noticed the dirtied look of defeat on Sinjin¡¯s face. She saw a limit and didn¡¯t intend to cross it.

    ¡°Sorry¡­ Sorry, Sin¡ªI didn¡¯t mean to raise my voice,¡± Cosima said sheepishly, buckling down into her bed. His face was cold; it made her shiver under the weight.

    ¡°No. No¡­¡± Sinjin nipped his forehead, his hairless face furrowing as he adjusted his face-down posture on the bed. ¡°I raised my voice, too. I¡¯ve been a mess lately. Sorry¡ª¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine¡­¡± A wave of relief washed over her as his face softened; she swore it was hate that left his face. Or it was a figment of her imagination¡ªa defect in her sight. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have overstepped¡ª¡±

    ¡°At least we can still have arguments.¡± He smiled a sentimental smile, speaking softly and tiredly. ¡°That¡¯s some normalcy, at least. So, no worries there.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, falling into silence after attempting to muster a helpful response.

    His cogs turned¡ªthey were slower than the speed at which their small argument had turned on a dime. However¡ªat the drop of a dime¡ªhe spoke up through pursed lips.

    ¡°If it¡¯s worth it to you, then¡­ I won¡¯t stop you.¡± He snapped a finger into the air before she could speak. He wore a frown, and she understood why. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t like what we¡¯re getting into. I¡¯ll keep shaking my head, but if you know what you¡¯re getting yourself into, I¡¯ll help.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Thank you¡­¡± Cosima said quickly, quieter than she wanted because of her dry throat and Sinjin¡¯s equally dry expression. It was in her best interest not to see his twisted face again if she pushed her luck.

    His frown deepened. He began focusing his energy on swinging his arm back and forth over the edge of the bed. He kept his eyes on Cosima.

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯ll be using¡ªuh¡ªTheta¡¯s advice and all that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cosima answered. ¡°I read the group chat a bit in the car. He has a lot of damn connections in this field, so maybe he can lead me somewhere.¡±

    Sinjin¡¯s arm halted. He blew out a breath and nodded.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± Cold air blew through the tent¡¯s entrance. ¡°Right.¡±

    He nodded towards the two phones on the stand between them.

    ¡°We need to argue more, maybe for tomorrow when our minds are clear from all this rubbish today,¡± he suggested. ¡°The more we argue, the more I¡¯ll understand you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s true. Yep¡ªoh.¡± She registered Sinjin¡¯s gesture, reaching for his Huawei phone with a shaky arm and lifting it away from the stand. She threw it backwards onto the bed, the device switching on and showing the default splash of colors on the lock screen. She¡¯d seen his phone many times. But the default wallpaper reminded her of what used to be in place of it, making her fingers grow limp and cold.

    She didn¡¯t think she was delusional. But¡ªif she squinted and continued to be gullible enough to fall for her brain¡¯s frigid tricks¡ªshe could almost see her prime self on the phone¡¯s canvas.

    ¡°You know my password, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Reality flashed into her sockets once more that night, breaking her away from falsity. She jolted at Sinjin¡¯s words and nodded. She replied, ¡°Yeah¡ªYeah, I do. Just tired¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re probably hungry, too. When the nurse comes back, I¡¯ll ask if we could get some food.¡± He glared at her. ¡°I will make you eat¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know, sheesh.¡± She couldn¡¯t roll her eyes.

    ¡°You better. Now call your parents.¡± He shuffled in his bed, digging his face into the sheets. His voice came out muffled. ¡°Tell them that we¡¯re ok.¡±

    She kept her sights on him, watching his stiff body lay quietly. If she could kiss him, she would. But she believed she wasn¡¯t in the right state to give him that act of affection. She loved him, though. Even if her parents weren¡¯t aware of their predicament, he stressed the importance of telling them, much to her reluctance.

    He cared greatly. But she always thought there was a capacity¡ªa limit to how much he could withstand and carry. The thought of him bursting plagued her mind the most.

    So she¡¯d take great care.

    She noticed several missed WhatsApp calls from Theta on Sinjin¡¯s lock screen feed. They were notifications from an hour ago.

    Oh yeah, we missed that thing.

    She referred back to Sinjin, who idled within his personal space with the pumps still attached to him.

    If he checked the phones a while back, he may know about the notifs. He probably wants nothing to do with it.

    Without trying to entertain the thought further, she wearily unlocked the phone with slow fingers and adjusted herself into the bed. She pulled the thin duvet up as she navigated the phone; the cold bit at her, even when there was barely any meat to chew. It was just bone.

    I hope this is all worth it. Please be.

    Beyond the tent, sirens blared.

    It was bone-chilling to think of the potential failure. It was bone-chilling to think of the pain she¡¯d have to go through. It was bone-chilling to think she was against Sinjin in their current views.

    But, by some miracle¡ªif she could keep dreaming up a world where things went her way¡ªshe¡¯d succeed, achieve her desired self, and turn herself back into a star.

    After all¡ªin this world that did her wrong¡ªevery coin had two sides.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 14: Debon Aire

    Fiction.

    It was fiction that always marveled the man.

    The deceiving aurora that coated the night sky couldn¡¯t fool him. His refuge on the roof of a random building couldn¡¯t fool him. Heck, not even the pulsating light in his chest could fool him.

    But life felt like an elaborate fabrication.

    Everything around him¡ªmaterial and spiritual¡ªwere shards of stories.

    Novels. Poems. Movies. Art. Myths. Legends.

    Life birthed these things. But, like the current state of this world, the children engulfed the mother; they¡¯d eat the hand that fed them.

    It was fiction that acted as the foundation for life.

    However, when he tried to be a part of this life and save himself, he found that his dreams remained inanimate. They were objects¡ªrigid and everlasting. But due to the world¡¯s whims, they were never defined. They could never be extracted and crafted into ¡®reality¡¯.

    Rarely, if he did have time to himself like now, he¡¯d dream.

    But his dreams were broken shards among a sea of trashed wine bottles and splintered glass. They were defective pipes that gassed themselves into bankruptcy¡ªfailed and frail foundations for infrastructure. They were sweet and sickly; he could eat them and pass away from the unrealness if he wanted to.

    But the unrealness was real. The man lived his doomed days on the country¡¯s soil, but not once were the dreams American; they were entirely foreign.

    Hollowness reigned over him as he leaned against a spire. A breath fell from his meaningless mouth that spoke nothing to the world, sweet nothings to a star-crossed fate. He simply became a receptacle, letting things flow into his head without escaping. He knew he had a past, but with his life in shambles and in line with the homey, lawless streets, remembering the past wasn¡¯t the same as having bread and water.

    He was hungry.

    So he¡¯d let other people tell their stories to him; he needed to feel something. Especially now, when he was at the end of his tether, he wanted to remember things that were actually worthwhile.

    The man began reminiscing.

    He recalled fellow vagrants retelling tasteful stories of divorces, affairs, and other marital problems beyond his scope of experience.

    He recalled smoky spiels from a candyman¡ªphilosophical threads weaved from the depths of one that had sunken so deep already. Cigars helped them plunge deeper.

    He recalled a traveler¡¯s risky tales from places like the wetlands in Florida. The explorer in question would brag about his crocodile tail; this one in particular struck a chord with him.

    All of these stories were priceless moments that he assimilated into his being. They were free of charge and never failed to provide him with food for thought.

    But he was still hungry.

    He long reined in his dreams, snapping the rose-colored glasses from a childhood he couldn¡¯t remember. All he knew was that he used to dream in color¡ªmanic pixie fantasies only limited by his imagination.

    But he didn¡¯t know if the glasses were rosy; he started not seeing color. Everything in his line of sight was white, grey, or black. From the buildings he felt high on to the flashing alarms of the predatory sharks on the road below. Everything was indistinct.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The auroras, however, were distinct. The light ruined the man, forced his life further upside-down, and made him an object of people¡¯s desire. The pulsating heart that lived inside him became a boon that people strove for, with onlookers giving him looks of admiration as they registered that he had something innate to offer.

    It wasn¡¯t his soul they wanted, though. They wanted his heart¡ªthe same heart he¡¯d dedicate to absorbing the stories of the downtrodden people around him in ramshackle tents and ruined alleys. Despite the devils that lingered in this hell, he found a family.

    But he looked up and saw the light; he had no family. Nothing came free, not even stories. He clutched at the spot where his aching heart radiated, feeling the beating organ twist around a price tag.

    The only thing free was the aurora; he didn¡¯t have to chase it. It was always there, especially in his chest, stripping him of his freedom as people chased it.

    He didn¡¯t mind. Because as the sirens wailed on every side, he felt he was at the centre of it all.

    Maybe he¡¯d have a legacy. He¡¯d have a story¡ªas long as he embraced the idiosyncrasies of being prey.

    ¡°Story of my life,¡± he mumbled with a tinge of melancholy, standing his ground.

    Effortlessly and painlessly, he removed his golden retriever traits and flashed off the building, sprouting out his crocodile tail.

    The happy hunting ground awaited him.

    <hr>

    Reality.

    It was reality that always grounded Gideon.

    ¡°The Wholesale District has always been a breeding ground for crime and all that,¡± Gideon said, leaning against the backseat windowsill of a parked police car. His thumb danced to and fro on his iPhone, his dark eyes glossing over the information on the webpage. ¡°This Wikipedia page tells me that the LAPD¡ªthe poverty one¡ªprovided, like, artistic workshops to the homeless. They attempted to make them recognize their unique humanity and take care of one another.¡±

    ¡°That definitely didn¡¯t work out,¡± Hilario commented, nibbling on his long nails. The lieutenant gazed out the window, watching the nightlife pass by casually. ¡°It was a good attempt, though. If I¡¯m not wrong, they even built those apartments for them, right?¡±

    Gideon kicked one of his legs over the other, nodding intently at the flying words on the screen. He landed on the section he sought, quickly glueing himself to the knowledge.

    ¡°Landmarks¡­ Yep. You¡¯re right. Opened 27 years ago. Star Apartments¡ª¡±

    ¡°It worked somewhat, didn¡¯t it?¡±

    The captain hummed, his rat snout twitching as he delved into his calculated thoughts.

    The SDD was messily formed about 3 years back to work alongside the police. I¡¯ve been captain for 1.5 years, but it feels like I¡¯ve had over a thousand cases in this munted district.

    He fiddled with his whiskers.

    They can build a mural, host a few workshops, and set up an apartment¡­ But even after two decades from this article¡¯s reports, nothing has improved here. A shame, but it¡¯s the truth.

    ¡°I should stop looking at this as if it''s something new. We¡¯ll treat this like any serial killer case.¡± Gideon attempted to fold his arms, quickly remembering he was one limb short of that requirement. He pursed his lips awkwardly. ¡°I think this just shows¡ªfor the thousandth time¡ªthat not everything can be fixed. This hellhole can-not be helped¡ª¡±

    ¡°Is that why you let Tawny go?¡±

    Gideon stared daggers at Hilario, the latter¡¯s eyes speaking daggers into the captain¡¯s soul behind his brown dreads. He always knew his lieutenant was as sharp as the nails he was sharpening and unsharpening. It¡¯s why he backed down because not only was he fearful of the man¡¯s Freddy Kreuger get-up, but he respected him for being openly rude. Who wouldn¡¯t? He let a felon go.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s the half of it,¡± Gideon answered with a yawn. ¡°She¡¯s pretty good at escaping, I¡¯ll give her that. If only she¡¯d escape from stupidity¡ª¡±

    ¡°I dunno, chief,¡± Hilario said, a sarcastic, singsong intonation lacing the words. ¡°The reception from yet another failed catch was pretty negative.¡±

    ¡°Look. It doesn¡¯t matter. The last thing we should be giving that woman is attention¡ª¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not saying that she shouldn¡¯t be caught because other officers can handle that.¡± Gideon tapped the phone screen. ¡°We have a more important case to tackle, a deadlier one. Let¡¯s put our energy towards dealing with a person that actually has an impact on society.¡±

    Hilario raised a brow at him.

    ¡°I mean, to be honest, there¡¯s barely any difference between the people we deal with in our line of work.¡± Gideon slouched further and looked out at the busy roads. ¡°This radiation makes it so that some people gain powers and start losing their ability to separate fact from fiction. Or, to worse-ify it, everyone can gain powers via harmonization, meaning that people can become delusional.¡±

    Gideon¡¯s hand flew up in a half-shrug as if he had just proved something to his companion.

    ¡°Radiation can change brain chemistry in some people, so some can¡¯t avoid losing their heads, so¡­¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t change the fact that everyone has access to delusionality. It¡¯s horrible, but I mean, that¡¯s how life has always been. We got some bizarre muppets in this world, running around thinking they can do all types of bull.¡±

    Hilario cocked his head to the side, beginning to bite his nails again. He sighed. ¡°Fair enough.¡±

    A distant burst resounded. It didn¡¯t faze the two.

    ¡°We¡¯ll deal with things practically. Tawny? She¡¯s not a threat; the higher-ups will surely understand. She¡¯ll be dealt with later. The Skid Row murderer? A threat that needs capturing.¡± Static buzzed from a nearby speaker. ¡°He has the cure within him, meaning¡ªfrom what we understand of it so far from lab tests¡ªhe can change his form with ease and¡ª¡±

    ¡°He struck, Captain! Near Honda Plaza! He¡ª¡±

    The desperate voice from the speaker died out. Gideon wasted no time.

    ¡°On the effin¡¯ outskirts of SR? Let¡¯s move!¡±

    The car flared into motion, belting towards the scene.

    Everyone had to have boundaries; Gideon didn¡¯t believe in happy hunting grounds.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 15: Daylight Studio

    Utopias didn¡¯t exist; the hospital didn¡¯t break any new ground in that respect.

    ¡°Hell,¡± Sinjin muttered behind his mask.

    He¡¯d usually preface it with ¡®holy¡¯, but Cosima knew the passage they tread was far from blessed.

    Patients littered the waiting room, each hymning despair to the most high staff from different hymn sheets. Some possessed sacrilegious bodies, bloated and smote with discolored infirmity, near soulless against ragged chairs and walls. Some hacked deathly odors through the acrid air, apostasy consuming the fallen as the rare few nearby cared enough to pat their burning backs and revive their will to live. Some prayed to SDD officers supervising the lobby, their desperate cravings for attention fought off by nervous preaching from the sweaty authority. Some kneed the cracking floors. Some shouted. Some cried.

    But¡ªsum and substance¡ªall suffered.

    Cosima suffered the consequences of looking. The peeved looks of the sick denied urgent care that met her gaze, deformed babies consoled by mothers feigning soundness, walking corpses¡ªall of it forced her sight away. It was like staring into a mirror with no blockade, the horrid reflection ever so close and tangible.

    It made her absent eyes bleed.

    ¡°Please stay close,¡± the SDD officer said over the noise to the small mobile group he led towards the hospital exit. Cosima didn¡¯t need him to shout that again as she swiftly pressed into Sinjin, who was helping her walk as usual. His body was reasonably stiff, and she could tell it wasn¡¯t solely because of his pain from the previous day. His face was grave and rock-solid, wearing an unreadable gaze that had long turned away from the rock-bottom sight of healthiness.

    She followed suit and tried to look forward as well. Blissful ignorance was her only choice¡ªshe couldn¡¯t let the reflections reach her or have her mind. She kept awkwardly shuffling with the small protected group; the doctors urgently gave them the time of day. She knew some people sitting there needed more help than her, but as she disappeared behind a corner, she only noticed how dark it was in the waiting room. No daylight spilt into the room; a window of opportunity didn¡¯t exist in that area.

    She hoped she could find her window, too. Or else she¡¯d be stuck in the dark like them.

    ¡°You ok?¡± Sinjin asked her, projecting his voice louder to overcome the immense hospital chatter and the calls from the PA system. He leaned closer to her as they walked. ¡°Is your mask on correctly?¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± She checked the mask¡¯s security with one hand.

    ¡°Right. Feels like they don¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I¡¯m fine somehow.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­¡±

    They discussed a lot in the morning, from where to go concerning fixing her body to trying to wrap their heads around other prominent issues like finances. These were clearly two conversational extremes; they each dominated their respective conversations. So now they had to conserve their breath to get through the hospital smog.

    But, despite how reclusive she had become, she wanted to talk more. She needed a distraction from the coughing, howling, and wailing from beyond the walls. The chattering of people behind them annoyed her. The chattering of people ahead of them annoyed her. She couldn¡¯t decipher their words, but she tried to close the already close distance between herself and Sinjin, fastening her hood further over her head as she did so. She briefly felt her lover¡¯s eyes fall on her¡ªher key to escaping the noise.

    ¡°Are you ok?¡±

    ¡°Eh?¡± Sinjin leaned down to her level. ¡°What¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you ok?¡±

    ¡°Am I¡­¡± He paused, noticing how close they were to the exit to the crowded hospital. They swerved around flushed doctors and nurses. He puffed. ¡°Yeah¡­ Yeah, I¡¯m good. Thank you, dear.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±

    The guard leading them took hold of the doors to the safer, outside world.

    ¡°I need fresh air.¡±

    His bloodshot eyes always spoke to her; more redness filled the white spaces behind the provided hospital goggles. It was always as if something were building up behind his stony stare¡ªa growing tension in need of relief. She wondered if it was all because of her for an eternal minute. Was she taking his breath away? Was she queasy or easy on his eyes? Was she a rotten apple in his eyes?

    Or was she just looking at it from a worm¡¯s eye view? It wasn¡¯t long ago when her dark room kept her cooped up and bottled up in a small world. For the first time in forever, she stood beyond those confines longer than she expected, soon to be refreshed by the afternoon¡¯s light from the opening doors.

    She hated the aurora, however; she shuddered when glimmers of purple shrouded the sun. There were no curtains to hide its presence or obscure the memory. But, like how it scarred her years prior, she needed to embrace the lights, no matter how much she was used to breathing in her own poisonous air in a tight bubble.

    She needed to stop breathing dark clouds out onto a limited horizon; the horizons had to expand. Whether she still had the physical strength to aim for the sky or not was the question.

    But she¡¯d try by following an example.

    ¡°Me too,¡± she finally replied to Sinjin as they shuffled towards the outside world with the small group, inching further away from the hell and its horrors. ¡°Me too.¡±

    They walked into the light.

    <hr>

    Lights flashed.

    ¡°Effin¡¯ hell,¡± Gideon muttered openly as the cameras and police cars flashed around the bloody scene.

    The captain¡¯s look remained rigid; most of the picture painted wasn¡¯t new. In front of him were patches of red soaking the concrete, fresh out of the bodies of lacerated officers. The tattered fabric of uniforms and shoes was enough for him to come to that conclusion.

    Right. So, even with the cure, that monster still regurgitates the inorganic matter from ensnaring humans. Glad that part is still consistent.

    But something wasn¡¯t consistent: the charred stench of smoldered bodies draped over the crime scene. The dismembered arm was eye candy for not only the cameras but his eyes as well. It was blackened, a crisp crumb from the feast of a manic mongrel. But, as Gideon expected, it simply turned out to be a feast for the eyes¡ªa leftover fragment that explained to him what the culprit was like.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    He clutched his empty sleeve, gritting his teeth at the sight. But the image in his mind was sightly, so he loosened himself.

    He¡¯s still a disorganized criminal. He added something new to his arsenal.

    He bit back his bile, confronting a damp SDD officer nearby.

    ¡°You said it was an explosion, officer?¡± Gideon asked the man, loud and clear over the surrounding scramble for evidence. The officer huffed and gulped, sweat dribbling over his lips as he attempted to muster an answer. The captain lifted his singular arm, flipping a finger up in the face of the officer. ¡°Calm now. You¡¯re fine. You¡¯re safe.¡±

    The officer nodded hurriedly, wiping sweat on his torn trousers as he sputtered to the captain. He stammered, ¡°Y¡ªYes. He¡¯s¡­ He has never done¡­ done that this past week!¡±

    ¡°More explosions? Shi¡ªWe just arrested another guy who used explosions on a freeway today.¡± Hilario joined in, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. ¡°The monster didn¡¯t use that before, so they most likely assimilated a human or animal that has such an ability because it¡¯s obviously pretty damn effective to not have been used earlier¡ª¡±

    ¡°From what people told me during the Tawny incident, they heard thunder. So, that time was lightning for sure. Sympathetic lightning since it seemed so loosely coordinated¡±¡ªhe took a breath before continuing¡ª¡±and went a long distance. What we¡¯re dealing with now just looks like an explosion caused by a flame ability. Unless it¡¯s heat lightning, but we heard a sound for sure. So there is a difference¡ª¡±

    ¡°He also looked more crocodile-like this time.¡± Another frightened officer joined. ¡°H-He sped past our car on all fours¡­ I think¡ªit was fast, ok!¡±

    ¡°Did any of you manage to land a hit on¡ªno, sorry, stupid question.¡± Gideon retracted his question, assessing the situation in his head.

    We know he¡¯s speedy. And he¡¯s more crocodile-like?

    ¡°By more crocodile-like, do you mean he had a crocodile maw or something?¡±

    ¡°Y-Yes, it wasn¡¯t just a tail this time¡ª¡±

    ¡°By chance, did you see any other animal attributes?¡± Gideon received headshakes from the questioned officers. ¡°I¡¯d imagine he got his hands on a stray dog with that ability. There are loads of them in this district. Worst case, he got his hands on a human with the ability. I mean, how else did the crocodile attributes come about? You can only find those in the South.¡±

    He stressed another raised finger with a small ¡°Wait¡±, shutting down what the other officers planned to add. When he was in full flow, he knew he couldn¡¯t stop. Especially when he could still hear the officers sniffling and trying to regain their composure, he knew it would be best for them to breathe and let him do the talking.

    ¡°So, as the science team predicted, the cure allows one to do more freeform shapeshifting. Cureless people like us with animal DNA feel pain when trying to unlock even a singular part of an animal.¡± Gideon fiddled with his rat snout. ¡°The cure could also remove abnormalities and turn someone back to their original form through some weird magic stuff. Or they could add a bunch of traits all at once.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ We know. What¡¯s the point?¡± Hilario asked, poking at the burnt rubble with his abnormal nails.

    ¡°Well¡­ It just reminds me of, like, a philosopher¡¯s stone¡­¡±

    Silence carried over. The confused stares from his allies unfazed him.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ Isn¡¯t that a Harry Potter book? What does that have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but not what I¡¯m going for. It¡¯s the alchemical concept. I¡¯ve had this thought for a while, especially since I read a lot when I was younger.¡± Gideon clicked his tongue at the brows still raised. ¡°Look, it¡¯s appropriate here because, although it¡¯s pseudoscience, the cure reminds me of that. It¡¯s an elixir of some sort or something that can push boundaries, and that¡¯s what we¡¯re naturally scared of. It¡¯s something we don¡¯t understand fully.¡±

    We¡¯re also like chimera, now that I think about it.

    He raised a finger as if someone would interrupt him; he was in full throttle now.

    ¡°But this does not change the fact that we live in the real world, where a single gunshot would completely incapacitate and kill a crocodile. It¡¯s also where a large group can easily jump and overwhelm an opponent, regardless of their strength. If we have the prep time, of course.¡± Gideon tapped the side of his forehead. He projected his voice louder. ¡°There is about a¡­ hmm, 90-99% chance this monster is homeless. He also appears to be an adult, from what we can see. So, we can strongly assume that we are dealing with someone probably with a¡­ cognitive impairment?¡±

    He had gathered a small audience of the officers, in which most looked at each other with uncertainty, murmured comforting words to one another, or gave shaky nods. It reminded him once more of the messy formation of the SDD, which he criticized constantly and internally.

    ¡°Or substance abuse. A lot of druggies in SR,¡± Gideon said. ¡°Anyways, the fact is that he is of low education and intelligence, as we can see from the type of criminal he is. We¡¯re confidently smarter. We shouldn¡¯t¡ªwhat¡¯s the word¡ªoverhype him, especially since he probably doesn¡¯t even know much about his own body with little to no access to the news or Internet.¡±

    The half-life of knowledge is unstable nowadays. He¡¯s unable to catch up to the speed at which new knowledge trumps old knowledge. So he¡¯s far outclassed.

    ¡°So what do we do?¡± an officer asked in desperation.

    ¡°We start being realistic and overpower him. And it¡¯s simple: corner, jump, and capture.¡± Gideon turned to Hilario. ¡°Me and Gallardo have the repelling abilities to push the monster into a corner. A strong weight will crush anyone, even a speedy crocodile.¡±

    Hilario tilted his head, retracting his nails and scratching his dreads. He said, ¡°I can¡­ try, yeah. But I feel like we shouldn¡¯t stall too much¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right, staying still in this big group would leave us exposed to an easy ambush,¡± Gideon said, taking in the crime scene again. ¡°If he does have these explosions, we sure haven¡¯t heard one in a while. He¡¯s probably back into hiding or waiting in the dark to strike at us.¡±

    As he expected, the group burst into anxiety, heads rolling in search of the impending death that could befall them. Even Gideon felt his heart pound against his chest, in sync with the squad around him. He completely understood the agitation, so he let them have their fear experience and took the time to catch his breath from his long-winded talking.

    I¡¯m terrified, too. But we¡¯re only human. That monster is also human, too. Chimera or not, he¡¯s not some new being or species. They need to start understanding that.

    ¡°I assume he was pushed back into SR, right?¡± Gideon exclaimed, attempting to reconcile the fear. He gained some approval and spared no time moving on to his next question. He hurried his words. ¡°Fire, lightning, light, magnetism¡ªwhich abilities did the ensnared allies have?¡±

    ¡°Light!¡±

    ¡°Light, I think¡ª¡±

    ¡°L-Light!¡±

    Light. Noted.

    ¡°Right. The monster will probably use it to its advantage in our next encounter.¡± The captain clapped, forgetting about his predicament again, before puffing out an exhausted breath. They weren¡¯t at the end of their rope just yet. ¡°Right. Let¡¯s get back to work over here with documenting this scene. Then, we can try and locate the thing. The plan is simple. Not 100% guarantee, obviously, but we¡¯ll be close. Let¡¯s do this, chop chop!¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir!¡± Everyone returned to their jobs with hesitancy. Whether their minds were back in the ones of police and not those of passive civilians was the question.

    Good. They are afraid.

    He looked up, glancing at the rooftops of the ashy buildings hanging over them all. He stopped at the aurora in the night sky and didn¡¯t try to look beyond them. He would never attempt optimism with the officers around him; there were limits to how far one could go with something like believing. When he saw a feasible chance without unrealism, he¡¯d assure them they¡¯d all strike at it while the iron was hot.

    ¡°It¡¯s hot as hell.¡± Gideon dove out of his thoughts, his gaze falling on Hilario, who stood next to him, patting his wet shirt out. ¡°You seem calm.¡±

    ¡°Eh. That¡¯s untrue, Scissorhands.¡±

    Silence.

    ¡°Scissor¡­ Scissorhands?¡± Hilario gave a short, confused chuckle.

    ¡°Yep.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s up with you making these pop culture references?¡±

    ¡°Morale boost,¡± Gideon said through a huff, stretching. ¡°People did just die, but when on the job, you should always try to be in, y¡¯know, good spirits¡­ and have some caution too, of course¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ok? Sure¡­¡±

    Silence. Sweat gathered on Gideon¡¯s forehead.

    ¡°So, the plan?¡±

    Gideon stared into space, rubbing his brows. Then, he repelled the stagnancy.

    ¡°We¡¯ll give the monster a gravity check, obviously.¡±

    The cameras flashed the crime scene for the last time.

    The lights flickered.

    <hr>

    The lights died down as the couple arrived outside the building.

    They were finally out.

    Sinjin dumped his goggles in the plastic bin near the hospital entrance, with the guard at the side thanking every one of them for their cooperation. Then, all the strangers went their separate ways in the packed parking lot, filled to the brim with soon-to-be patients scrambling out of vehicles and awaiting their rite of passage into the sacred building. It wasn¡¯t any better on the outside. But they were out, and she could finally see Sinjin breathe as he disposed of his mask.

    ¡°That was definitely an experience,¡± Sinjin muttered, blinking at the cosmic daylight.

    Cosima ensured her hood covered most of her face as many strangers came into her view. She bunched closer to Sinjin, who was still helping her walk anyway. She said, ¡°Yeah¡­ Hope it never happens again.¡±

    ¡°Yep. Yep¡­¡± He looked to the side absentmindedly. ¡°Now¡­¡±

    A nearby car¡¯s horn blew. Sinjin¡¯s calm demeanor dropped with a single blow.

    ¡°Oi!¡± A familiar voice called out. They pinpointed the source: a burly arm waving from the right-hand window of a khaki Land Rover Defender. The car beeped again, drawing some sickly eyes.

    Sinjin clicked his tongue.

    ¡°We can see you¡ªJesus.¡± He mumbled incoherent nothings and reluctantly led them towards the car.

    ¡°Come on, dear. It¡¯s a free ride, plus I have to¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I get it. Sorry.¡±

    Can¡¯t say I didn¡¯t expect him to be disappointed. He was hesitant this morning.

    Unlike Sinjin, she knew she had to suspend her disappointment; she needed guidance.

    So, without any more delays, she had to confront Theta.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 16: Smize Inability

    But she didn¡¯t want to confront Tanairy.

    ¡°Oh, good afternoon, guys,¡± the blonde in unfortunate question greeted, calmly upright in the backseat of the car with her arms crossed over her lap. Despite the posture, her face looked bright. But, like a throbbing pain in the neck, Cosima felt the woman¡¯s beady eyes smiling towards her, breathing down her already aching neck. It was a large, filthy chip on her shoulder, weighing her to a slouch and chipping away at whatever tolerance she managed to carry from her hospital bed. ¡°You guys alright? Hospital must¡¯ve been hellish.¡±

    The hell?

    The front seat next to the occupied driver¡¯s seat was vacant.

    ¡°Oh, afternoon,¡± Sinjin responded politely, shelling as much exhaustion as he could to wing mirth at the other woman. He clutched the grab handle from outside the car. Cosima flinched. ¡°Yeah, uh, hospital was¡­ fun, I guess. But we¡¯re alive.¡±

    Cosima¡¯s body burnt all over as she shifted from Sinjin¡¯s tight grip and slid faster than she needed into the middle seat of the car. Sinjin hid it well, but she knew he¡¯d turn down an offer to sit in the front seat to avoid sitting next to a stranger he didn¡¯t intend to have to meet more than once. She didn¡¯t wish to go to the front, too; the other two would be in the back.

    She was the smallest of the three, anyway. So, it was a necessity that she was in the middle.

    ¡°Ah, good, good. Glad you¡¯re alright.¡± Tanairy placed her purse down from the chair and onto the dusty mats to accommodate Sinjin, the latter sitting at the edge of his seat, wearing a lopsided smile on a grim exterior. The blonde checked her seatbelt, fastening the wrinkled strap. There was some silence, but she managed to interrupt it freely, reaching for the air conditioning port and mumbling, ¡°Man, it¡¯s hot. I¡¯ll turn on the AC¡ª¡±

    ¡°1 casualty.¡±

    The AC switched on. They froze at Theta¡¯s interruption. The older man looked up from his phone, switching it off as he stared at them through the rearview mirror. He started driving, a cacophony of collisions from a pile of trinkets swishing around in the car¡¯s boot and shaking the air.

    ¡°1 casualty in yesterday¡¯s accident,¡± Theta reiterated, discarding his phone as he forced the car into full motion, sharply driving towards the exit of the crowded hospital complex. Seatbelt buckles clicked just as fast as the car. ¡°A woman. Impaled by high-speed shrapnel. Headshot. A lot were severely wounded as well.¡±

    The car vents sputtered as cold air drenched them. Sinjin clicked his tongue the second time that day, drawing out an audible hiss as if his cold shoulder had begun melting. It would be easy to brush something like this away if they were far from the melting pot of people who faced such a destructive accident. But the two of them were there, living and breathing the moment against their own will. She couldn¡¯t key into the willful ignorance this time; she couldn¡¯t escape from this truth.

    She glimpsed at Tanairy; the woman appeared to have swallowed the bitter pill long before they had. The blonde looked out the window with a frown that didn¡¯t fit her, keeping herself compact and rigid as she watched the buildings roll by as the car hit the ground running. The woman wore pity; she wasn¡¯t at the catastrophe, though. She could run a mile and sweeten the pill if she wanted, but she chose not to. Cosima couldn¡¯t wrap her head around that.

    ¡°The dingus cat-woman managed to beat the rap and escape from authority once more. But the actual cause of that death was arrested.¡± Theta tapped the dashboard¡¯s touchscreen, one hand rapping against the wheel as he drove. ¡°So it¡¯s not all that bad, I guess.¡±

    He slapped his lingering hand back onto the wheel, breaking the uncomfortable silence with heated exuberance. ¡°Anyways¡ªuh¡ªthank you for calling me this morning! I¡¯m very eager to hear about the shell shock experience, Mistah Sinjin.¡±

    Sinjin pursed his lips tightly, and Cosima swore she could hear his bloodshot eyes roll. Carpooling in Theta¡¯s car wasn¡¯t something Sinjin was willing to roll up his sleeves for. She knew it would be a bumpy ride ahead for him because, even with the free ride laid out for them on a silver platter, he wished to keep his speech silver and his silence golden. To him, Theta was a one-or-two-time thing¡ªnothing more. But with the prying eyes of the driver attempting to prize open his mind, he knew he couldn¡¯t avoid the man¡¯s curiosity. So he blew out a breath and his cover.

    ¡°It blows. Hurt.¡± He paused, rubbing his scalp as his head bumped against the vibrating window. He murmured again before Theta could butt in to diminish the silence. ¡°Hated it.¡±

    ¡°I see¡­ I see.¡± The man made popping noises with his lips, leaving the three in the backseat to their thoughts. Cosima couldn¡¯t think with the shaking vents and rumbling trunk, but questions swam in her mind that she wished to ask. A benefit of getting a free ride from Theta was that she could catch up on the session she missed the previous day. However¡ªeither the air was thick, or the subject of her main query was clogging her windpipe¡ªshe couldn¡¯t get a single word out.

    This is awkward¡­

    She didn¡¯t want to cough¡ªall eyes would be on her. Back then, she¡¯d spill her thoughts without coughing or choking up. But being out for too long drained her. Even with all these thoughts in her head, vanishing into thin air seemed like a feasible option to escape this tension.

    She couldn¡¯t escape; she was between a rock and a hard place.

    ¡°Y¡¯know, you two are pretty lucky to have been part of that whole fiasco,¡± Theta blurted out, speeding into his following sentence in a flimsy attempt to clear any hint of insensitivity in his words. ¡°And, er, what I mean by that is that it¡¯s not every day you get to be in the actual site of a crime like yesterday. Especially when it includes something as big as lightning manipulation and all that other plasma jazz.¡±

    Tanairy¡¯s mouth shot open. But she fled from her rebuttal, her defeat shown in the silent breath she let out. The pent-up energy had instead rerouted to her tapping foot.

    ¡°In vitro is nothing compared to in vivo by a long shot. Going beyond your comfort zone and seeing something new with the naked eye is something I enjoy personally.¡± Theta¡¯s eyes lit up in the rearview mirror, far beyond the glassy-eyed gaze the passengers wore. ¡°I¡¯m pretty hands-on. I see something cool from a distance? I want to experience it in its entirety and gain a full sense of it.¡±

    His eyes landed on Cosima; she shivered in her hood. He added, ¡°So I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯m being nosy. I do everything in good taste.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°My wife¡¯s working on the garden, so luckily, she isn¡¯t here to pinch my ear like I¡¯m some ¡®effin child. Love her to smithereens, though.¡±

    They stopped forcefully at a red light in traffic. Cosima coughed dryly into her elbow. A ¡°bless you¡± quipped from the driver¡¯s seat as Sinjin urgently coddled her, patting and rubbing her back.

    ¡°You ok?¡±

    ¡°I think¡±¡ªshe coughed up more hot mucus¡ª¡±so.¡±

    I need to ask about this.

    ¡°Tissue?¡±

    Tanairy waved a tissue in front of her face. Cosima wished to wave the concern from the woman¡¯s face, hesitating to accept the offer. But she didn¡¯t want to shy away from it¡ªher body screamed. It would be foolish to decline the small gesture, but as she accepted the tissue, she felt herself shrink under the woman¡¯s grace. Sinjin kept soothing her despite that.

    But she still felt like crap.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Cosima muttered reluctantly to Tanairy, cleaning away at the mess she had become accustomed to, both the green and purple ones. She¡¯d been doing that a lot this week.

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    ¡°Now,¡± Theta began, scratching his messy hair. The green light blinked, the car revving into motion. The man spun the wheel one-handedly. ¡°Miss Cosima, how have you not awakened¡ª¡±

    Ah, yes. I¡¯m the professional in the car.

    ¡°¡ªwith your toad thingie? You were in the same accident yesterday with your hubby, and that should¡¯ve been enough mental stimulation and trauma to forcefully activate it.¡±

    The sentence was stimulating in itself. All that came to Cosima¡¯s mind were the distressed cries of Sinjin as he barricaded them from the crumbling world. But now he barricaded himself, lost in thought in the moving scenery behind the window and sticking to his carapace. Still. Agitated. Distant.

    It was enough to bring her to her senses; she had to open up eventually. Everything felt like a wake-up call to her at that moment. She wore mutated skin. She had a mutated toad in her genes. She fell victim to a mutated crime. She was too deep into the chaos, and the harmonization was irreversible.

    She was pursuing a journey of reversal.

    I¡¯m too far into this. I need to start being curious.

    It was the only way to close the distance.

    So she distanced herself from fear, just for now. After all, there weren¡¯t many people around¡ªjust three adults.

    Theta hummed a tune as he drove, waiting for her answer. Sirens whirred on the road, closing in before fading out, giving Cosima time to collect her thoughts.

    ¡°I, uh¡±¡ªshe coughed, clearing her throat¡ª¡±I¡¯ve started coughing up¡­ like, hot snot¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Theta¡¯s interest piqued, eyes darting from his wheels and training on the sickly woman from the mirror. Tanairy stiffened next to her as the car shook uncomfortably. ¡°Sorry¡ªtell me more.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ it¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah¡ª¡±

    ¡°Is it linked¡ª¡±

    ¡°So it obviously may have some acidic properties. That¡¯s to be expected, honestly¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh¡ª¡±

    ¡°As you know, alongside all the womp-womp stuff that came from the CME, the radiation causes some bodily features and capabilities to enhance. From skills like strength, size, and speed. From more ¡®human nature¡¯ things like genes, brain structure, hormones, yada yada¡ªwe¡¯ve all been through this.¡± Theta glimpsed at Sinjin and Tanairy. The two adults were in their own worlds. ¡°Some people have insane, enhanced acid reflux, like you, at the moment. So you must be throwing up¡­ not acidic, actually, but alkaline mucus, potentially mixed with small amounts of stomach acid. It¡¯s cool, no worries.¡±

    Cool? What does he think this is?

    ¡°Um, why¡ª¡±

    ¡°Any other questions?¡±

    ¡°¡ªdoesn¡¯t stomach¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, ma bad. Continue.¡±

    Cosima collected herself; she was making some progress.

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t stomach acid¡­ Doesn¡¯t it, like, burn you?¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s an easy one.¡± He hummed a triumphant tune as he blazed past a soon-to-be-red light. ¡°It¡¯s all about the parietal cells, which help in gastric acid secretion. The reason why your stomach acid isn¡¯t currently burning a hole through your effin¡¯ stomach is because of a layer of mucus and bicarbonate that lines the stomach wall, which means that the acid can¡¯t damage it.¡±

    ¡°So¡­¡±

    ¡°So, I guess the mucus is still very much alkaline but has enough parietal cells to make it hot. But not completely burn off your skin. Or something like that. I don¡¯t have the apparatus to even test that, but I know I¡¯m mostly right.¡±

    ¡°Ah¡ª¡±

    ¡°Because, who knows, cells are still organisms, as y¡¯know already. They can be mutated, change potency, and possibly even refunctionalize themselves. It¡¯s really interesting, so I should probably soon cop a microscope¡ª¡±

    Now he¡¯s just rambling.

    ¡°¡ªto observe that.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Anyways, back on track. We have to expect the unexpected a lot nowadays, as I told you two days back. Those parietal cells, the mucus, your body in general¡ªall these things we can expect to morph and change. For better or for worse.¡±

    It was clear what the world chose for her body in particular.

    ¡°Of course, some things are true, and er¡ªeff¡¯ me, drive well!¡± He slammed the car horn, scowling at a nearby car clearing out of his way. He mumbled colorful curses at the vehicle as the three passengers gave each other disturbed looks. ¡°Parietal cells will continue to aid in the function of gastric acid secretion. Well, unless the radiation destroyed that function somehow. But you obviously still have normal functioning and can clearly digest your food when needed.¡±

    He frowned and said, ¡°Some things stay constant and have to stay constant in this new life. Like the stupidity of people.¡± His eyes dotted around the crowded road as the car stopped at a red light at an intersection.

    He smiled and bubbled, ¡°But some things are variable and do change. We should never try to be limited; thinking big and beyond basic expectations is what we should start doing more because this horrible radiation makes us more advanced and pushes the world forward.¡±

    The lights flickered green. ¡°It¡¯s evolution.¡± All vehicles burst into motion. ¡°We should never turn down evolution.¡±

    Cosima¡¯s thoughts burst into motion, evolving in her head. She wasn¡¯t too versed in the semantics of his speech, but she understood the surface-level notion.

    The nurse¡¯s words surfaced in her head.

    ¡®Stick to what you have now¡¯... or something like that. Why would I want that?

    She wasn¡¯t a stranger to opportunities. But she forgot when she became so indecisive about them, like now. According to the experienced man¡¯s logic, there was potential for change in some things and zero potential for others.

    Did she fit the bill into something that could change? Or something that had even an ounce of potential?

    She didn¡¯t have to look at herself to gauge that, nor did she want to. It had become a common habit, but her image seared into her mind. However, if humans could evolve and use smaller organisms to change their bodies, then being able to improve herself wasn¡¯t farfetched. The power they all wielded was potential¡ªan opportunity.

    She raised herself better than that; she¡¯d never turn down opportunities. She¡¯d deny doctor¡¯s orders.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be concerned with things like divine order¡­ natural order because this world¡ªnow more than ever¡ªworks in mysterious ways.¡± Theta laughed to himself. ¡°For example, sometimes the things we ensnare permanently force themselves out without our permission. You should know that; you¡¯ve seen examples.¡± He pointed to his caracal ears.

    Cosima flinched.

    ¡°It¡¯s the natural process of, y¡¯know, evolution we should accept.¡± The man¡¯s face adopted a childlike wonder. ¡°Like¡ªMiss Cosima, who knows, you could start adopting bullfrog traits from out of nowhere! Haha!¡±

    She shivered. The air conditioner gusted harder than she wished.

    ¡°You could start growing warts on your body!¡±

    She shivered. Tanairy instinctively broke out of stiffness and turned down the air conditioner.

    ¡°Or your mucus begins to cover your skin like a cocoon.¡±

    She shivered. She was still cold.

    ¡°Or even more bizarre, you could start breathing and drinking from your own skin!¡±

    She shivered. Her spine shivered; she questioned if she even had the backbone to take any more of the cold truth.

    It was ugly¡ªshe would be ugly.

    ¡°Maybe even¡ª¡±

    ¡°Real quick.¡± Sinjin¡¯s voice chilled the air¡ªa veil of passive-aggressiveness laced his words, something only she could detect. Despite not lying back in his seat, he comforted Cosima¡¯s dry hand, clasping his fingers around hers tightly. Even without the presence of eyebrows, he attempted to hide his scornful look from the sights of the rearview mirror. ¡°I¡­ uh, need to ask if you guys know anything about the policy when it comes to¡­ uh¡­ getting a car back from a road accident like the one we experienced.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tanairy shifted her gaze to the couple. ¡°Don¡¯t they¡­ just, uh, close up the road and tow any cars with no driver¡ª¡±

    ¡°I got no effin¡¯ clue as well. I think they all just get towed or something¡ªI dunno, it¡¯s beyond me¡ª¡±

    ¡°I was guessing they send the cars leftover from hospitalized drivers to a tow yard¡­ Google searches barely cover things like this, so my best bet is to find my car affidavit¡ªthink I have it in a file somewhere¡ªand show it to the authority¡ª¡±

    ¡°Would they broadcast the tow yard?¡± Tanairy questioned.

    ¡°They must. My car better not be destroyed, I swear to God¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯d be fine¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d probably take a few days for them to broadcast it on the news, right?¡±

    ¡°I think so. It¡¯s weird¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡ª¡±

    ¡°It would take forever to¡ª¡±

    Clear. Cosima¡¯s mind grew hollow. She couldn¡¯t absorb the flowing discussion around her. She was focused on bigger things. Her breathing. Her posture. Her goals.

    Even when Sinjin expertly diverted the conversation away from her, Theta¡¯s explanations of random evolution tormented her mind. She knew the reasons people would resort to ensnaring animals. In the world they lived in, the need for protection trumped all things. But, by doing so, she didn¡¯t seem to acknowledge that she needed to protect herself from the reality of going down such a path. Theta didn¡¯t mention the possibility of her permanently having a cannon sticking out of her mouth. Her throat burnt just thinking about it.

    How will I even get to the cure? It¡¯s mostly just a coincidence I find an animal or plant with it.

    She remembered her freakish nature without having to waste energy on introspection.

    But the more I take into myself, the more traits I get. That would probs mean I get stronger. Right? Right?

    Theta¡¯s words replayed in her head, horridly spliced with her own thoughts.

    Warts¡­ mucus¡­ skin¡­

    No matter how she looked at it, things were bound to get ugly. Or they already had.

    If I gain more traits, I get strong enough to defend myself from cure-onlookers¡­

    Sinjin¡¯s grip tightened around her as he spoke to the other woman¡ªa psychic confirmation of their loyalty.

    But he wants a pacifistic route. I won¡¯t disobey that.

    She tamed her breathing. She tamed her posture.

    So¡­ So, I need some connections somehow. More connections.

    She tamed her goals. But she could¡¯ve just been too optimistic for her own good. The aspiration she had in mind could easily bite back at her. She could writhe in aching sores. She could lose herself to the hunt. She could die.

    She could become uglier simply by wanting something coveted by everyone. But if there was anything she was familiar with, it was that barriers to entry existed. Some people pushed forward and changed, while others were left behind and remained unchanged. The world was always scouting for successes, testing the capacity of everyone living in it to exert themselves and push the limits of their own doubts to achieve greatness. To survive in a society like this, she had to accept the ugly truth behind wanting to succeed. But how long could she go? How much could she do?

    How far was she willing to go for her body?

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 17: Dior Notion

    ¡°It¡¯s not very far.¡± Tanairy hurried out of the car, purse and courtesy in tow, waving her fellow passengers off. She played with the car door, speaking with urgency. ¡°I like jogging back home anyway.¡± The door shut.

    ¡°Wait¡ªconsider the things I¡¯ve told you today, Ryd!¡± Theta¡¯s voice halted her. She had already gone a good way down the neighborhood¡¯s pavement in only a few seconds. The man poked his head out of the front window. ¡°It¡¯ll be fun! Stimulating even!¡±

    The day¡¯s events flashed in her head in a heartbeat. She finished her considerations hours ago.

    But she wouldn¡¯t give a direct answer; the earbuds were already in, and her Spotify playlist sat in the palm of her tight hand.

    All she did was hand the driver a subtle nod as she jogged on the spot, kicking her mind, body, and soul into full throttle with quad stretches.

    Then she took off, galloping past passersby passing through their own lives.

    A thought kindly intruded her headspace, passing through the cracks of her mind, even when calming music massaged her brain. It even allowed itself to pass through her lips in a breathless whisper.

    ¡°Did I smile?¡±

    Just like how she¡¯d pull a muscle in her legs every time she sprinted, she always remembered to pull others¡¯ legs, too. So at least they¡¯d know she meant no harm. But she forgot this time, at least that¡¯s what she thought. She hoped she did.

    Did I come off rude?

    She hoped she didn¡¯t. That wouldn¡¯t be good. She wouldn¡¯t want that.

    Did I seem scared?

    No. She hoped she didn¡¯t.

    Did I seem suspicious?

    No. Not at all. She hoped she didn¡¯t.

    Did I leave too quickly?

    No. There was nothing like that. She had a place to be.

    So she¡¯d be there. No hesitation. No reversal. No roadblocks.

    ¡°Crap!¡± she swore in Swedish, passing past a civilian she almost bumped into. ¡°Sorry!¡±

    She¡¯d keep running.

    ¡°She¡¯s always so weird. But quick,¡± Theta documented aloud, running through his phone. He rolled up the windows as the blonde disappeared. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that her reflexes impress me, and she wields the bulb salamander inside her really well. I checked with her both yesterday and today¡ªit¡¯s sick!¡±

    He perked up like a fawn, fawning over unspoken words he had at the ready.

    ¡°Ooo! If you guys don¡¯t know what I was talking about with the Blue Eyes White Dragon¡ªoh, that¡¯s a good nickname for her, by the way.¡± He turned to the two passengers¡¯ confused faces. ¡°Anywho, uh, what I''m saying is that I and others on the group chat tend to do these, like, excursions around the country to learn stuff about the radiation¡­ or just to chill. As you know, I am very passionate about the world around us, and I love traveling with the fam that I¡¯ve built up for years. You guys can be part of it, hopefully.¡±

    Sinjin didn¡¯t want to be a part of it; his neutral face spoke to her. She knew he had better places to be and plans for the upcoming days to write out and review. But if whatever Theta said was true, he¡¯d lead her to better places and give her the opportunity she desperately needed. The connections and opportunities were there, all for her rightful taking.

    Sinjin¡¯s frown deepened. He leashed his disdain and said, ¡°Hope getting to the apartment isn¡¯t much trouble.¡±

    ¡°Crap¡ªmy bad!¡± The car jolted back to life. ¡°So, how about it? Especially you, Cos.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    They were in motion.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be direct: you want to change your situation.¡± His words put the two passengers in shock. ¡°I don¡¯t need to explain to you what your situation is. You know very well the severity of your body, and that¡¯s definitely why you came to me.¡±

    The car sped up on a near-empty road.

    ¡°I can easily get you up to speed with the world. I¡¯m good at what I do and know more than most, so I can fill up any voids in your knowledge. Same goes for you, Mistah Sin. I am always here to help.¡±

    Sinjin couldn¡¯t help but fall back into his void, grunting and staring out the window at the blurry scenery.

    But the lines between possibility and impossibility blurred. It could just be Cosima¡¯s escape from hell if she made this one connection¡ªalong with multiple others branching from this¡ªwork. She jailed herself in a dark room for as long as she could imagine. Aside from Sinjin and a family abroad, little to no one barely outstretched a helping hand to her. But now, a hand connected to a potential solution waved its fat palm in front of her.

    For five years, it¡¯s probably the first time she¡¯s dealt a good hand. Then, she¡¯d hope for more and more to stretch out to her if this one didn¡¯t work out.

    It would feel familiar.

    ¡°So, how about it?¡±

    It would feel recognizable.

    ¡°Do you want to¡­¡±

    It would feel like she was a model again.

    ¡°...be revived?¡±

    <hr>

    Revival was possible¡ªto some extent.

    This shi¡¯ hurts! So that¡¯s how it feels to perform cautery!

    Tawny clasped a lighter in her shaking hand. The lighter could sear a wound close, like she had done with the gash on one of her resting tails. However, it left a scar all the time. She couldn¡¯t restore the appendage¡¯s skin to its original condition, and the procedure hurt like all hell. But it sealed the wound and stopped the bleeding chaos; she puffed in relief at the procedure¡¯s completion.

    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    But completion would mean that a full circle was possible. It would mean that a reversal was possible.

    Puffing one of her pocketed cigarettes was a possibility. Her fingers graced the ashy case stuffed loosely in her pocket. It¡¯d numb the pain and return her to the neutrality she wore before the cautery.

    However, she wasn¡¯t an idiot. It¡¯d damage her lungs and curse her with incurable cancer. The more she smoked, the more her life would keep breaking down around her and lose its order.

    Damn it.

    She damned her temptations and tended to the seared tail. She brushed it with her cracked nails as if she were caressing a newborn¡¯s cheek.

    ¡°This is your tail, Parsley,¡± she whispered, grimacing at the scar left by her work. The image of the tabby came into her head without difficulty. ¡°Sorry, hun. I did the best I could to seal it off. I¡¯ll be less careless.¡±

    How could she? She threw caution to the wind when she began riding the protesting wave. She was too far into the deep, and in motherly fashion, she had to lie to the child.

    ¡°Right, let¡¯s¡±¡ªshe hissed under her breath¡ª¡±get this done.¡±

    She took out her Samsung Galaxy S22, brushing her thumb over the cracks. Grunting, she unlocked her phone through face recognition and scrolled into WhatsApp. She entered a private chat with a user named ¡°Hinto¡±, holding onto the microphone icon in the chat box. It began tracking sounds around her.

    ¡°Yo, Hinto, are you close?¡± She scoffed at the red battery signal at the corner of her screen. ¡°I just closed up my wounds, but I still need the basic first aid and all that. The bleeding wasn¡¯t too bad¡ªby the way, I hope you have a charger with you.¡±

    She fiddled with her bushy moustache-whiskers.

    ¡°Anyways, I assume you saw the¡ªwait.¡±

    A plane soared above her. Its distorted rumbling sounded louder and clearer than one would feel if grounded. But she was closer to the sky, making its interruption more of a nuisance. The sounds pierced each of her ears, bashing against her brain and pumping chaotic vibrations through her body. Her teeth snapped and snarled, and her hair stood upright. She shivered at what felt like endless pain.

    The aurora-filled sky was endless¡ªa limitless veil of disorder with nothing to hide. There were costs to being so close to the lights. Not only did the plane¡¯s noises mesh horribly with the aurora¡¯s crackling, but she was simply closer to the very thing that worsened her life.

    But then the plane got further¡ªthe chaos didn¡¯t subside. The sound left, but the aurora stayed. It always would. Something as unhinged as the phenomenon couldn¡¯t be caged. It wasn¡¯t a pet.

    ¡°Anyways, where was I?¡± She recomposed herself, substituting standing for her preferred sitting. ¡°Oh yeah¡ªthe news. That guy who ambushed me got captured. Apparently, he caused a death. An absolute clown that I incapacitated. And even with that, the cops still want to capture me.¡±

    She clicked her tongue and continued, ¡°They should just add me to the squad as they can¡¯t even do their job right¡ª¡±

    ¡®Exactly what kind of god are you trying to play here?¡¯

    As much as the plane was grating, this persistent question invaded her head ever since its inception from a pretentious captain¡¯s mouth. They had frequent interventions, but that line broke her train of thought.

    She stopped fiddling with her hair and remembered how much she played first fiddle in her job. She conducted a movement, a direct current without a knack for going backwards. Even with her newfound distaste for electricity, the charge against all her opponents could never stop.

    They¡¯re toying with me. Especially that childish captain¡ª

    ¡°¡ªhe just wants a reaction out of me,¡± she vocalized, punching at beads of sweat on her forehead. ¡°I forgot to tell you¡ªdon¡¯t know if you saw it¡ªbut I had one idiot try to talk me down on the day¡ªyou could practically see him getting comfortable as the crowd cheered him on¡ª¡±

    She slammed her hand on the floor repeatedly.

    ¡°I keep telling you¡ªand I ain¡¯t no ¡®effin psychologist. Some people oppose for no damn reason. They just want to fuel their egos and ignore the message.¡± She scowled at her aching back¡ªan injury from yet another repellent from society. However, it was just a scratch. ¡°They clap at me for not using deadly assault and battery, so don¡¯t we deserve to speak our minds?¡±

    She paused to let the flush on her face seethe; she wouldn¡¯t let idiocy anger her and get into her head. Reactions were a part of life¡ªthis wasn¡¯t rocket science to her. They are the basis of creation.

    ¡°As long as most of the public and authorities keep opposing what¡¯s right, they¡¯ll create more hate for what we do.¡± Tawny waved her hand to the air. ¡°Rubbish¡ªbut if we gain more publicity and keep speaking more facts, we can create an opposite reaction and hopefully have more people side with¡ª¡±

    ¡®Exactly what kind of god are you trying to play here?¡¯

    ¡°But unfortunately, it¡¯s always those corrupt people in higher statuses calling the shots,¡± she complained, scrubbing at the sweat again. ¡°Rubbish. Just rubbish.¡±

    Sweat collected at the brink of her eyes; she swiped at them furiously. She looked to the close sky, pinpointing the more bluish and purplish light trails.

    ¡°I think the solar winds just increased up here¡ªsorry.¡± She gulped. ¡°Hydrogen, helium, nitrogen ions¡­ I think the more planes that fly, the more nitrogen enters the atmosphere. I assume¡­ the oxides just get broken down by all the heat captured in the aurora.¡±

    Her palm flew to her head. ¡°It¡¯s too much¡ªcome quick, please. Moving hiding spots in this city is difficult.¡±

    She released the microphone button, her voice note buffering, before sending it to Hinto. She hunched into herself, blowing out a frustrated breath. Her thumb hovered over the play button, but a familiar voice played instead¡ªone that didn¡¯t need a button to press.

    ¡®Exactly what kind of god are you trying to play here?¡¯

    She eyed her slow, depleting battery.

    Why am I letting someone like this get to me? I¡¯m my own person now.

    She moved to the microphone button.

    Unbeknownst to her opposition, she had a voice. She would lend it out sparingly when push came to shove, but getting herself involved in people¡¯s nonsense was something she trained herself to do. She had too much field experience for her own good, and excess was poison. But with so much poison coursing through her entire being, she became resistant.

    And that¡¯s why she kept trying. But she¡¯d try harder this time. Potentially the hardest she would ever try.

    She held the microphone icon again.

    ¡°The SDD captain said I was playing god. It¡¯s annoying as hell¡ªhell, I¡¯m not even religious¡ªbut if doing what I¡¯m doing is being godly, then¡­¡± She shrugged.

    A gust of solar wind flicked past her, blowing away all her care and caution.

    ¡°If I really want to drive my point home, I may just try hopping into the Skid Row thing.¡± She used her collar to wipe away sweat. ¡°It would boost my publicity, meaning I¡¯d reach more people. It¡¯d also be prime time to expose the SDD. A criminal like the Berserker would be executed for sure¡­ but we all know that¡¯s not the case nowadays.¡±

    She stood up¡ªalbeit shakily¡ªtaking in the lowly view of the streets from a rooftop.

    ¡°Also, please don¡¯t tell me it¡¯s dangerous. I¡¯m not smooth-brained. This is a ¡®high risk, high reward¡¯ opportunity to put my biggest enemies to shame.¡± Her tails sparked to life. ¡°They are forcing people to accept their corrupt standards. They don¡¯t realize the consequences of their actions.¡±

    She lowered her voice to a grumble.

    ¡°I swear, they¡¯re like children.¡±

    Her sweaty face wrinkled more.

    ¡°I hate children.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Come on, Rory. Why are the lights still running?¡±

    The child in question twiddled his thumbs, searching for a distraction from the towering woman in front of him on the wooden floor. The woman flicked off the light switch, causing the boy to flinch.

    ¡°I¡­ uh, forgot to¡ª¡±

    ¡°With my already high electricity bill?¡±

    They paused. The rapid creaking of floorboards resonated throughout the house, with the pitter-patter of many small feet getting closer.

    ¡°So?¡± The woman pressed on, her long arms folded as she leaned against the vibrating wall. She sensed the usual earthquake nearing her. ¡°What do you say?¡±

    The kid groaned, rubbing his pimple-ridden face. ¡°Sorr¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch your face¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know¡ªsorry¡ªI¡¯ll just not use the lights at night. Can¡¯t that¡­ like, um, make up for the light¡­ I used¡­ now?¡±

    The woman blinked, scratching her blonde locks. Her face scrunched as she eyed the empty doorway of the room into the corridor. Then, everything about her loosened up, and she sputtered a laugh through her toothy smile.

    ¡°What?¡± The kid furrowed his brows. ¡°It¡¯s not stupid!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just surprised a twelve-year-old could think of something so reasonable¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shut up already¡ª¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be such a grouch.¡± The woman crouched and pulled at his cheek with soft fingers, her face brightening at the child¡¯s attempt at escape. ¡°It¡¯s a compliment, dood¡ª¡±

    ¡°My face¡ª¡±

    ¡°Woah!¡± She retracted her hand, the boy scowling at her. ¡°Sorry¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re always clumsy¡ªidiot¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not nice¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, really now?¡±

    ¡°Kids! What is it now?¡±

    A few seconds passed as three children of differing ages slid at the doorway, slipping on their socks and bumping against each other.

    ¡°Reina lost the remote under the couch¡ª¡±

    ¡°She threw¡ª¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me, guys¡ª¡±

    ¡°It was¡ª¡±

    ¡°It was you¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nuh-uh¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes¡ª¡±

    ¡°Use your jellyfish eyes to find it!¡±

    ¡°The couch, right?¡± The woman silenced the argument. ¡°Right, I¡¯ll get it. Then, I¡¯ll get started on dinner¡ªhow did it get under there anyway?¡±

    ¡°Reina¡ª¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t¡ª¡±

    ¡°She¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi, one at a time.¡± The woman tirelessly watched the group scuttle down the hallway as she approached the doorway. She stretched her arms out, yawning in the process. ¡°Problem after problem after problem¡­¡±

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Rory hummed, sagging at the words. But then, when she turned to him, he straightened not out of guilt but from surprise at the grin still plastered on her face, complimenting her azure eyes.

    ¡°Come on, Rory.¡± The woman stretched her hand out to him without his necessity for such a thing. ¡°Let¡¯s go downstairs, my dear.¡±

    Even when he could walk, why would he deny love that stood within arm¡¯s reach? It wasn¡¯t very far. What felt like home to him now was a few steps away. No one would ever turn down home¡ªit¡¯s where his heart lay.

    So he took the hand, the familiar comfort etched into his brain from the first time he took the opportunity.

    The lights were off, but a light still cast on him from above.

    It was as if he had been revived for the millionth time.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 18: Dunkirk Fibre

    ¡°Man, I¡¯m dead!¡±

    Gideon spat a loud, aching breath before falling squarely on his back onto the pitch. His uniform was drenched from neckline to waistline, BO barraging his snout. His face squeezed.

    ¡°Ugh¡­ I need a shower,¡± the captain murmured like a zombie, his brain rotting from the fruits of exhaustion. He rewarded himself with a minuscule nod¡ªworking himself to the bone was nothing short of the norm expected of him. Even when disabled, he knew what he signed up for and would keep exerting himself. It¡¯s part of the job description, after all. So there was nothing to write home about when he was sweating buckets and close to kicking the bucket mentally.

    Everyone had limits.

    ¡°Ey, Physics Major!¡± Hilario¡¯s voice from the stands shook him partially from his aimless daze. The lieutenant chewed on something as he spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t you know that you barely have any freaking balance anymore? Know when to draw the line¡ª¡±

    ¡°Whatever, what¡¯s¡±¡ªhe stalled and huffed¡ª¡±the time?¡±

    ¡°Like¡­¡± Hilario chewed more, presumably checking his phone as he ate. ¡°Six¡­ Near six-thirty!¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ 6:30.¡±

    So we¡¯ve been here for an hour. Right on schedule.

    He breathed out, letting the morning silence soothe his heart rate. There were many hours until the evening when he¡¯d have to tighten his uniform and take to the playing field. A field not dedicated to a school¡¯s recreational activities but one that called for the primal competitiveness in one¡¯s psyche¡ªthe dog-eat-dog world. He clutched his chest with a tired hand as if he were feeling the itch of death¡¯s scythe crossing his heart and forcing him to pump more sporting blood.

    Calm down. Damn. We have a chance to win.

    That¡¯s what life was about: chances. Things could happen. Things that work in his favor. Things that don¡¯t work in his favor. Anyone could die at any moment¡ªthe last five years of disaster have been an empowered testament to that notion. And there was nothing anyone could do about it, which wasn¡¯t a grand revelation.

    That also meant that there was no point in sulking about it.

    I was born in a country close to Australia. Surely I got some genes to wrangle a croc.

    So he smiled to himself despite his beating heart. After all, despite the adaptiveness of fear, he¡¯d make light of the circumstances and do what he had to do.

    ¡°Want one?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    ¡°Aight.¡±

    The crunching of grass with the smooth skinning of an orange urged Gideon to attempt the futile effort of standing up, shaking before falling. He kicked his legs up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re gonna try that again?¡± Hilario¡¯s face hovered over his, the man retracting his nails back to normal size. ¡°Repelling the ground like that is not gonna get you back on your feet¡ª¡±

    ¡°I have to get it right eventually. If I get downed in a confrontation, I¡¯m basically use¡ª¡±

    ¡°Gimme your hand¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªless for the duration of¡ªthanks, mate.¡±

    Hilario helped Gideon to his feet, giving the man his peeled orange and the peel.

    ¡°Yo, I¡¯ve¡ª¡±

    ¡°Stop being afraid to ask for help. I¡¯m always here¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know. You¡¯re my right hand.¡± He dangled his right arm in front of Hilario¡¯s face. His cheeks rose, his body shaking from both heaving and stifling laughter. He picked at an orange slice with his teeth as he fought the battle of bursting into laughter in front of the other officer¡¯s unimpressed gaze.

    ¡°I¡­ Hmm.¡± Hilario collected himself, breathing in and out. ¡°How do you still have the capacity to take this stuff lightly? Also, ouch.¡±

    ¡°I keep telling you: I¡¯m fine. I think I¡¯m getting better at turning corners¡ª¡±

    ¡°You still trip a lot¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know, I know.¡± Gideon began vacuuming his orange slices, juice seeping into his palm as he messily ate. ¡°The mistakes are being fixed¡ªspeaking of mistakes¡ª¡±

    ¡°Be careful of your shirt¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡ªI was gonna say something a while ago.¡± He inspected his shirt for stains for a second before carelessly going back to talking. ¡°Wild take, but I feel like we should be able to be shirtless on the job.¡±

    An understandable pause settled, but Hilario¡¯s expression didn¡¯t, as he shifted through many phases of confusion.

    ¡°Is it¡­¡± He smirked clumsily, trying to find the words to answer the captain¡¯s wild idea. ¡°Man¡ªis that even legal?¡±

    ¡°Should be¡ª¡±

    ¡°We have female officers.¡±

    Another pause. Gideon pursed his lips.

    ¡°Yes, optional, obviously¡ª¡±

    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Sure¡ª¡±

    ¡°I feel that this fat-as-hell uniform slows us down a lot, and it¡¯s not like we deal with many gun cases anymore. It¡¯s just freakshows with wacky powers and¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ok? But aren¡¯t you the same person that says to expect anything¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, yeah. I¡¯m not saying that gun cases can¡¯t happen. Especially now, people need them as much as ever to defend themselves from loonies.¡± Much to Hilario''s dismay, Gideon devoured the rest of his orange, getting juice on his shirt. The captain paid no mind to it. ¡°But most to every school has been shut down for years, and kids are now in online learning for as long as we know it. We won¡¯t have another school shooting for a long-long time, and that¡¯s this country¡¯s trademark.¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s why clothes are useless?

    ¡°Sometimes you have to go against the grain to perform better. The widescale temperature increases make us sweaty anyway.¡± He rubbed his fingers against his palm as if to clean up the juice. ¡°I¡¯m joking to some extent. When we fall, clothes protect us. And I certainly don¡¯t have the tough skin to endure the pains of tripping so much when I run. But, I mean, it¡¯s something to take note of. An idea.¡±

    Hilario furrowed a brow. ¡°You have a weird mind¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not at all¡ª¡±

    ¡°Is this something you¡¯re gonna suggest to the chief?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll probably demote me if I say something so stupid, or I¡¯m just overexaggerating.¡± He began walking back to the stands, crunching the peel in his hand. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna let my job and reputation slip away like that, as nice as the thought of running down LA streets shirtless is.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you come in, like, casual wear for this morning¡¯s exercise?¡±

    Gideon looked back at the other officer, noting that he wasn¡¯t in uniform and was wearing a vest and a pair of shorts. The sight made him feel the drenched weight of his attire, bogging down on him like gravity.

    ¡°Well¡±¡ªhe disposed the peel into a nearby bin¡ª¡±it keeps me grounded.¡±

    The captain slumped into a chair, regulating his breathing. He smiled. ¡°You always ask a lot of questions.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with that? It feels like I learn something new from you every day¡ª¡±

    ¡°I mean, nothing wrong with that at all.¡± Gideon grabbed a squeeze bottle next to him and held it near his lips. He swirled the rejuvenating bottle as if he were taking a shot. ¡°But I¡¯m not that interesting.¡±

    He took a swig, skying the drink. Hilario took a seat next to him, expressing concern.

    ¡°Whatever suits you.¡±

    They sat in silence, but it was far from comfortable. Even if the morning peace surrounded them on the empty school grounds, an air of tension found its way in the radiated winds. And they¡¯ve been breathing it in for endless days, including moments when the threat of a murder hobo hid from the daylight.

    ¡°You think we¡¯re gonna get a hold of him tonight?¡±

    Gideon glimpsed at the officer, the latter nibbling his nails like a rat. It made his snout itch just watching. The captain scratched the itch, like any person would.

    ¡°Anything can happen. There¡¯s even a chance that he could start killing people at day without us knowing and break what we thought was a cycle¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eff¡¯ me. Nah¡ªdon¡¯t even think that¡ª¡±

    ¡°I will¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a terrible thought to have when we¡¯re the ones at the frontlines¡ª¡±

    ¡°And there¡¯s a chance that I can be wrong about that.¡± Gideon struck a finger up before Hilario could interject. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to ¡®think¡¯ about when we¡¯re dealing with something of this nature. And don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m not praying for our downfall, as much as that¡¯s also a possibility. I¡¯m just saying that hoping for complex things to happen is pointless. So¡ª¡±

    A phone¡¯s ringing broke the sticking point between them. However, an impasse didn¡¯t exist; they weren¡¯t new to arguments, and Gideon couldn¡¯t count all of them on the fingers of his hand.

    ¡°Hypocrite.¡± Hilario handled the ringing phone, checking the caller¡¯s name. His features softened, his voice lowering in preparation to answer. ¡°You keep talking about morale, but here you are, not even trying to at least believe in the possibility that this stupid case can end today in our favor¡ªlet me take this.¡±

    ¡°Aight.¡± Despite his bones screaming, he lifted himself from the chair, staggering towards the field. ¡°Say hello to Coleta for me.¡±

    He reached the empty field¡ªthe grassy one and the one in his mind. As the phone¡¯s ringing stopped, he tried to shield his mind from the background noise, stretching his legs with focused eyes.

    ¡°Hey, dear!¡±

    Hypocrite¡­ That¡¯s a new one, Hilario.

    ¡°Yeah, Gideon and I are almost done. He said hello, by the way... Yes, I¡¯ll be back home soon.¡±

    Things like this just aren¡¯t that simple anymore.

    ¡°Yeah, I think I can pick some up on the way back, that¡¯s if my captain over here stops breaking his tired body. How much do you need?¡±

    I need a lot of strength to keep me alive. I could die at any time. We all can.

    Gideon put two sweaty fingers to his neck, feeling the rapid pulse weigh on him more alongside the uniform.

    ¡°Right¡­ Ok, I¡¯ll see you soon. Love you!¡±

    His heart squeezed. Then he huffed, squeezed the fabric of his heavy uniform, and began buttoning any loose buttons.

    Maybe I am a hypocrite. I mean, I¡¯m not different from anyone else. I¡¯m not some special case.

    He patted the dark patches on his sleeves.

    Some things in this life still remain unchanged¡­ Some things are still simple.

    He fastened his silvery badge, darting away from its silver lining to trace the prestigious letters engraved in the dead centre.

    There are things that don¡¯t need explanation or questioning. Heck, I don¡¯t even know why I keep talking to myself like this. I wish I could get that point across to you.

    ¡°Yo, cap! Quit trying to exercise more! Training is finito.¡±

    But not only are you too stubborn for me to tell you¡ªas much as I love our banter¡­

    He slowed his breathing and faced the lieutenant, his face flushed from the heat. Wherever the heat was coming from, all he knew was that it was burning him up from the inside and out. It left no scars or tarred flesh¡ªit simply left him driven.

    Cheekiness surfaced on his tense face. ¡°The grind does not stop!¡±

    I have a job to do.

    ***

    ¡°Right! Time to get work!¡±

    Cosima hadn¡¯t heard Sinjin shout that loud in a while; he was always respectful of the people living atop and below them. Even behind the dark bedroom walls, his voice broke through the barricades.

    And it got closer, the door bursting open. Light spilled into the room in his wake.

    ¡°Cosimama, good news!¡± Sinjin jogged to her, holding her by her shoulders with care. His bright face startled her, especially as he was about to deliver news foreign to her. ¡°The road has finally been announced cleared after three days! They said they towed a few unoccupied or damaged cars and sent them to a tow yard they named¡ªI¡¯ll go today! I have the affidavit ready to prove our car¡¯s ownership!¡±

    He let go of her shoulders, the ghostly touch lingering. He scattered around the room, sliding on his shoes and picking up a neat folder at the bedside table with his wallet. She couldn¡¯t understand it.

    ¡°How can you be sure that the car isn¡¯t destroyed?¡±

    Sinjin shot her a quizzical look. ¡°Why are you being so pessimistic? This is our car here! I have faith, and you should, too, ¡®kay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll¡±¡ªCosima breathes out air and not her pessimism¡ª¡±try.¡±

    Sinjin stared at her, his brightness fading before he attempted to pick it up again.

    ¡°They said your phone would be all fixed by Friday noon.¡± He paused as Cosima deflated, lying flat on the bed. ¡°At least they could fix it.¡±

    Three days¡­

    Her hands subconsciously clasped around the ghost of her phone. Days felt like an eternity¡ªthey always did in this slow burn of life. She¡¯s spent too long in this room, staring at the walls and letting the heat get to her.

    ¡°I know your answer, but do you wanna come with me?¡±

    Cosima did as he expected. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She balled up on the bed.

    Sinjin sighed, shuffling to the curtains and yanking them open, the cosmic light entering the room. He clicked open the window and left it slightly ajar.

    ¡°I know the air isn¡¯t some freaking holy water, but you¡¯re gonna suffocate yourself.¡± Sinjin shoved one of his hands into his pockets and trailed towards the door. He performed a check on the items in his hand. ¡°I may be out for a while. I¡¯ll pick up some groceries. Maybe I¡¯ll just stroll around the city or something. I¡¯ve been getting some headaches lately.¡±

    Cosima shuffled a bit to catch a better picture of the man¡¯s grey look.

    ¡°Get well soon.¡± An equally grey response.

    ¡°Hmm.¡± He departed from the darkness, leaving the room¡¯s door wide open. ¡°If you need anything, use the PC to contact me on WhatsApp. Don¡¯t forget to use your cane. And¡­ be mindful of what you do on the PC.¡±

    The front door opened.

    ¡°Love you.¡±

    The door shut without any physical love. The ghost of a kiss crept to her forehead.

    She sighed heavily, her face dropping into her hands. All that remained in the apartment were her and the ghosts that mocked her.

    Social media also mocked her, but she still craved a distraction¡ªan escape from the things she couldn¡¯t see or experience anymore.

    It was an escape from reality, and a single word drummed against her head and loosened her hands from the ghostly phone.

    PC.

    She attempted to fight the thought.

    He said I can only use it to contact him.

    She glanced towards a cane near the bedside.

    Then she looked away as if the clutch was a ghost.

    He¡¯ll be disappointed.

    Did she have the spirit to restrain her urges?

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 19: Silky Undertaking

    She clicked on a WhatsApp tab¡ªSinjin¡¯s account.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Cosima rolled the cane around with a withered foot as she surveyed her boyfriend¡¯s chats. Theta¡¯s group chat was at the top, flooding with endless messages about useless fluff she glossed over.

    Her first subject was in sight.

    Iris.

    She scoffed at the smiling, porcelain face in the profile picture before dipping into the privacy of the chat.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡±

    The most recent chat was a week old¡ªjust a bunch of art stuff she didn¡¯t understand and wasn¡¯t looking for.

    She scrolled up. Ten days ago. More art stuff.

    She scrolled up. Fifteen days ago. Chatter with no substance.

    She scrolled up. Fifth of October. The woman sent a birthday message to him. Harmless.

    She scrolled up. Fifty-fifty certainty of no underlying issues. That didn¡¯t do.

    She scrolled up.

    She scrolled up.

    She scrolled up.

    She scrolled up.

    Her eyes scrolled up to the time; she had to move on.

    Nothing much.

    She clicked off the chat.

    She scrolled down. Another subject.

    Naomi. Oh, her.

    She rolled her eyes over the profile picture and entered the chat.

    She scrolled up. Stuff.

    She scrolled up. Stuff.

    She clicked off. Scoff.

    Ok.

    She scrolled down and down. Another.

    Greta. Who¡¯s she again?

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    She shunned the picture and slipped into the chat.

    She scrolled up.

    Scrolled up.

    Scrolled up.

    She clicked off. Mental thumbs up.

    Down.

    Lydia.

    Chat clicked.

    Up.

    Up.

    Up.

    Down.

    Mental thumbs down. Too hyper.

    She pressed off.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    Aaliyah.

    Click.

    Up.

    Up.

    Up.

    Up.

    Up.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down.

    Up.

    Down.

    Up.

    Down.

    She clicked off.

    There were many other faceless people to check¡ªso many she expected down further in the abyss that was Sinjin¡¯s social life.

    But she scrolled to a limit¡ªa phenomenon she didn¡¯t used to think existed online.

    Mom¡­

    Her breath hitched as she noticed the account name written in Chinese with a red heart emoji next to it, feeling tense as sirens whirred in the distance. This was one of the few Chinese words she could read; it was enough of a marker that she had descended further than needed. She could keep scrolling further and further; there were still boxes to tick and time to kill. But even baring as much as a glance to the message with no blue ticks made her shudder and click off the tab to her dry account at a speed that blinded her as much as the screen.

    But she couldn¡¯t be blinded anymore. Artificial light was her life.

    She stared at the time at the corner of the screen.

    Near five-fifty.

    Once again, time was slow. Getting through every single day was a slog¡ªa painful, everlasting poison. Even when she sat outside the comfort of the dark room, it simply meant that she had moved shelves¡ªshe had gotten nowhere. Until the last few days, she wouldn¡¯t leave the shelf. She had nowhere to go. She had no schedule. She had no appointments to attend. She had nothing.

    It would be an aimless journey into the abyss.

    She hated aimlessness. She hated being left in the dark. She hated the unknown.

    So, she had to stay sheltered until she could figure out a linear path to getting her life back. Or if something forced her out of this bind.

    Until then, all she had left was too much time on her weak hands. And the Instagram tab nearby tempted her to no end.

    She neared it. It was a new avenue. It was a new rabbit hole to fall through. It was a new world she knew inside and out.

    It was infinite, just like her time. It was always a match made in heaven in a world that was hell.

    So she¡¯d indulge and keep falling into old habits.

    But a ping froze her. The volume icon appeared on one of the tabs before revealing that it was another WhatsApp tab¡ªher tab. She stared at it as if it were alien.

    That¡¯s¡­

    She scrolled to the top of Sinjin¡¯s account, their private chat not being at the top of the list.

    Sin didn¡¯t text me. Who could¡­

    She noticed herself slouch and straightened herself.

    ¡°Right.¡±

    She whipped the mouse upwards, clicking the tab.

    ¡°Ah¡­¡± She dragged the sound, croaking as she read who the messenger turned out to be. She circled the pointer over the bolded message.

    Theta.

    Without looking at the message preview, she clicked and waited, the site going to a white screen and buffering. The lights even flickered.

    Power fault.

    She crossed her arms and patiently waited, taking her mind to the ceiling. The first time she had looked away from the PC since she turned it on.

    Whenever she was online, it always felt like she was clicking and scrolling without much foresight. She couldn¡¯t tell if she wanted to distract herself or not. She just saw mild satisfaction in the mindless act. Maybe she was the zombie she always believed she transformed into: a person with no direction or purpose. Even when some of the things she¡¯d see online squeezed her heart, everything still felt equal. She¡¯d scroll to no end, repeatedly encountering things that had no staying power in her mind unless they ridiculed her.

    But, as the page loaded and the sirens rang louder beyond the apartment confines, she read words that stuck and were far from ridicule. Hell, the sentence itself was ridiculous¡ªpoor grammar, no greetings, and¡ªto top it all off¡ªa ludicrous idea.

    But perhaps, maybe it was what she needed.

    A lead. A nudge. A direction.

    There was a chance she was just a moth to a flame, fluttering to a deadly light and light death. But the lights stopped flickering; there was certainty to follow. A brain with more industrial knowledge than her laid itself out to her.

    It all felt crazy. But how long could she stay on the fence? How long could she stay on the shelf? How long could she stay fifty-fifty when the man''s message read:

    ¡®yo wanna go skidrow with us?¡¯

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 20: Droll Layette

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were gonna accept! Mar-ha-ban, see-stah!¡±

    She wasn¡¯t fast¡ªa crutch was her legs. All she had ever been were skin and bones; the trait itself wasn¡¯t enough to secure her nowadays. But despite her stature, she hadn¡¯t pounced at an opportunity like this one in ages. The nature of this particular opportunity was more unreasonable and dangerous, but she couldn¡¯t let all her old habits die like that. The past had too much weight for it to slip from her waned fingers, especially when she could do something to reconnect with her losses.

    Following the ways of the car driver dangled many benefits in front of her. Whether the current endeavor was a benefit was the question; it was as hazy as the pacifist conviction she made to Sinjin.

    Crap.

    Crap. I don¡¯t need to remember him now. Not when I¡¯m already in¡ª

    The car exploded into motion, forcing her to squeeze the life out of the grab handle and her cane. In due time, the same fate would await her for being rebellious.

    ¡°You want another speeding ticket?¡± one of the two men in the passenger seat exclaimed. Theta caressed the bulging glovebox, taming the beast within with zero fear or caution on his face. Cosima swore more crumpled sheets were bursting at the seams than from the first time she entered the car days ago.

    The car¡¯s tires screeched with each turn, a cry for help that scorched itself into her mind as rubber burnt to a crisp. They hadn¡¯t even reached the hellscape that was their destination, and her world was already burning around her. She wasn¡¯t a veteran¡ªwith a small body, she still managed to be the elephant in the room.

    ¡°I was supposed to send this for servicing¡­ like, uh¡­ yesterday? Or something.¡± Theta toyed with the wheel with one hand, servicing his phone instead with split attention. It was safe to say that it wasn¡¯t a fifty-fifty split. ¡°But I did not want to miss out on this. So thank you for freeing up your schedules!¡±

    It was also safe to say that there was no safety.

    So¡ªreally and truly¡ªwas she in her right mind?

    ¡°Turn left,¡± the GPS warned.

    Another sharp turn. The passengers lumped against one another from the force, Cosima not lumping in with the same calm, grinning expressions on their faces as if they were engaged in a 3D movie.

    But she couldn¡¯t see what they saw. Maybe she wasn¡¯t wearing the same lens. Maybe she wasn¡¯t in the same theatre.

    But they were all in the same car.

    Who are these psychos?

    She almost vocalized the thought, the dead words becoming mush as the horn sounded.

    ¡°Drive better, fatty!¡±

    ¡°Stop projecting, Theta!¡±

    ¡°Oh go kill yourself, Benny¡ª¡±

    ¡°Your fat ah kept saying you would go gym with me and¡ª¡±

    ¡°A potbelly is one of the most sacred treasures of a man¡ªit¡¯s a statement¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes! It screams incoming heart failure¡ª

    ¡°Fat is a lifesaver¡ª¡±

    ¡°Then I¡¯m fatphobic¡ª¡±

    ¡°Cosima can vouch for me. Her boyfriend looked like he had big, meaty arms behind his sleeves¡ª¡±

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    ¡°Damn¡ª¡±

    ¡°Ain¡¯t that right, Miss? Fat is good.¡±

    Her head spun as all eyes fell on her. She made sure her hood was further down her face, pushing herself back into the chair as if to sink into it¡ªlet the chair take her away from the scene.

    Even when it was just three pairs of eyes, it felt like she stood in front of a crowd. It was different this time. They weren¡¯t pleasured looks, they weren¡¯t enamored looks¡ªthey were curious stares, ones that attempted to drill deeper than what was presented on the surface.

    And she had nothing to hide. So why did their eyes bore so deep?

    ¡°Oh yeah.¡± Theta broke the silence, possibly due to the lack of a satisfying response. The other eyes flicked away from her as if she had ruined the flow of the conversation. ¡°I think I gotta put names to faces here for you, Miss. You don¡¯t interact much on the chat.¡±

    Was she that much of an outcast?

    ¡°The German egghead that keeps shouting in my ear is Benedict. He has no life and is chronically depressed¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nice to meet you!¡± Benedict¡¯s firm hand outstretched across the other man. She caught a better glimpse of the man¡¯s overly freckled, acne-ridden face and one swollen eye. However, he managed a loud smile and deafened her with it. ¡°Your purple skin looks cool, by the way!¡±

    Cosima froze despite the rampant thumping and bumping of the car, as if all logic and reason diminished within the vehicle.

    What¡­

    The hand formed into a fist; she flinched.

    ¡°Benny, you¡¯re ugly as hell. You¡¯re scaring her¡ª¡±

    ¡°True! Sorry, ma¡¯am!¡±

    Benedict reeled his arm away, the other two men chuckling, deserting Cosima and leaving her grasping at straws at understanding the twisted conversation. She picked at the straws in her hair, attempting once again to disappear.

    What the hell is happening?

    ¡°Right¡ªthe Indian next to you is Harsh.¡±

    The man in question smiled at her behind his mop of black hair, which hid noticeable humps jutting out of his forehead. He looked more composed than the other two, but that in itself was scary; he seemed too content with his situation.

    ¡°A pleasure, yeah.¡±

    Cosima accepted the greeting with a quick nod.

    ¡°Both used to be my students when I taught Environmental Science at UCLA. I was damn good at it.¡± He dragged the last word, drowning out the sharp ¡®no¡¯s from his students. He cut to his next words. ¡°I left, like, 8 years ago to do my own thing, but I made sure to keep in touch with as many graduates as I could. The different connections you make are the best part of teaching, after all, even if I left the job behind. So don¡¯t think I¡¯m some creep or something¡ªit¡¯s just a matter of life¡ª¡±

    ¡°Creep¡ª¡±

    ¡°Eff you, Benny.¡± Theta yawned a long one. ¡°Man, I¡¯m hungry¡ªoh yeah, by the way, I¡¯m curious, Miss¡ªand I¡¯ll be straight up.¡±

    An ambulance sped by, its sirens rising and then falling.

    "What made you want to join us? Not saying you aren¡¯t forward, but this is a huge leap from harmonizing with an animal.¡±

    She thought about it briefly, but he didn¡¯t spare her any time.

    ¡°Did the Tawny incident spark something in you, perhaps? Made a few screws go loose from some trauma?¡±

    He let out a belly laugh. But in the windshield, behind the drooping ears, his eyes remained daring. They trained on her, and unlike the other two men, these eyes tried to pry her open for answers. Or something beyond the answers to his questions. Something deeper. Too deep.

    Is¡­ Is he judging me?

    The other two were in their own worlds, muttering and showing each other things on their phones.

    What do I do?

    She still couldn¡¯t disappear.

    I have to answer¡­ right?

    She still couldn¡¯t escape these looks.

    ¡°Um¡ª¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t gotta rack your brain about it. Just playing with you because I know you¡¯re a complete noob in this.¡±

    A siren blazed by.

    ¡°Obviously, brain rot is very common in this new age. It¡¯s natural to make rash decisions, so just go along with it because I know for sure that you of all people need this.¡±

    Another siren.

    ¡°You can¡¯t live in a bubble ¡®cuz look out the window.¡±

    The passengers stared out into a flashing sea of red and blue. Traffic infested the streets, but even with that, everything moved without restraint. Nothing remained in place, and nothing hesitated¡ªthere was no quietness nor solitude. Everything and everyone was in this mishmash of pure unrest with no sign of sleep on the horizon. The only thing that slept and kept steady was the aurora, brightening and feigning blindness to the disorder it imposed on the world below.

    And what a world it was: relentless and fast-paced.

    So why did her life feel so slow?

    ¡°Yo, bruh¡ªthey are swarming this area,¡± Benedict exclaimed.

    ¡°The cops have been on high alert fighting deranged mobs in the area for the past few days, and it gets increasingly worse at night.¡± Theta whistled along with the tune of another siren passing. ¡°Of course, those are relatively low level in comparison to the big, bad killer, who we should definitely get to see.¡±

    More sirens.

    ¡°This is the real world¡ªthis is what we live to see! Like, it¡¯s cool as hell!¡±

    Whirring. Whirling. Whirlwind.

    ¡°This is what I have to get you accustomed to, Miss! You¡¯ve only dipped your dogs in the water so far; it¡¯s about time to begin diving in.¡±

    Swept off her feet into this drive, she wondered once again if she were in her right mind. She couldn¡¯t decipher if her doubts arose from the blood reaching her head or the bile rising just as fast through her throat. But one thing was for certain in an atmosphere devoid of rigidity.

    There was no escape.

    She found she couldn¡¯t disappear. The world wouldn¡¯t allow her to leave, no matter how much laws and standards fell.

    But no one around her cared. The world moved on. The lights kept blinking. The car continued driving. Everything went forward¡ªthe direction she had always loved in a different context than it was now. And it wouldn¡¯t stop¡ªthe brakes seemed miles away. Slowly, the force of the universe reeled her away from the dreary shelves and into disarray,

    Instead of black, all she saw was red.

    But what was the true nature behind this red?

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 21: Delivering Tatters

    The red was blinding.

    So he slithered back into the darkness with a famished full stomach, stripping away from the course of justice that broke into his filthy bubble.

    It was invasive. Impolite, even.

    He lived in secluded misfortune, no matter how many others scraping past rock bottom like him cluttered the streets. Aliens would sweep in occasionally, chuck peppery pennies and nothing burger virtues at them like they were strays that couldn¡¯t fill up their spacious homes. Because after they did a deed, the aliens would leave empty-handed with full pockets and a home to go to.

    The repetitive process took time.

    But they were still poor¡ªnothing changed.

    They¡¯d take the coins, spend them on trash, and then live back in the trash.

    They¡¯d take the charity, become elevated by random patrons holding a halo over their heads, and then fall back into the dumps.

    They¡¯d take the food, eat it, and then stay hungry.

    Soon enough, the baseless offerings melted as quickly as they arrived and turned to dust. Then¡ªlike a furnace¡ªthe smoldering heat turned the trash into glass, which dug into the man¡¯s body and tail the more he rammed into walls and floors in his scurry. All this trash that bit back at him and scorched his lungs just for trying to breathe told him nothing new but kept reminding him of something that flashed into his head the more his feet ached.

    Life is unfair¡ª

    I hate this¡ª

    I¡¯ve lost hope¡ª

    Life is unfair¡ª

    I lost my family¡ª

    I didn¡¯t get to say bye¡ª

    Life is unfair!

    Some of those words weren¡¯t his own. They were more innate, echoes from somewhere within him that bounced off the walls and wanted to break out. It added unnecessary confusion to his mushed mind, but the new weight was minimal; the words weren¡¯t too far off from what he wanted to scream to the sky right there and then.

    But he couldn¡¯t, or else he¡¯d reveal his position. His privacy never mattered.

    With every corner, homeless mobs fought each other.

    With every corner, more well-off civilians fought each other.

    With every corner, police fought off these people.

    With every corner, he came into the picture. And all eyes made him feel like a celebrity before their hands clawed for his chest. They wanted his heart, a bleeding one full of light that they drew to like moths to a flame. But they didn¡¯t see that; they saw a prize. And that transaction never went both ways.

    However, with the growing annoyances in his head, he was at his limit. Especially with a price on his head decided by people he didn¡¯t even know, his biggest enemy was time.

    Am I gonna make it?

    I didn¡¯t make it¡ª

    Let me die¡ª

    The pain¡ª

    Am I gonna die?

    I don¡¯t wanna do this anymore¡ª

    I hate life¡ª

    Leave me alone!

    He broke his limits.

    Then he ate them; no one left spared.

    The food would fight back, wriggle, or run. However, he was always faster. He got stronger. He got weaker. He got better. He got worse.

    Anything he assimilated always stabbed him with double-edged swords. He reigned over his opposition, but nothing could stop all the information that crashed into his brain like a tsunami. New horrific adornments ripped out of his skin, adorning him in edges and excess skin. His hand gurgled. More voices gurgled. His stomach gurgled; it didn¡¯t want to be at full capacity. He didn¡¯t want to be at full capacity as well.

    So he wouldn¡¯t allow it. Because although he gained weight in every inch of his mind and body, he was lighter. The tatters from his torn clothes meshed with the filth on the ground¡ªpieces that mean nothing to him anymore.

    He can be naked in this new skin. It was as if he had become taller, firmer, and richer.

    All because, in his flickering eyesight, there were no consequences.

    He screamed.

    Whether it was because of the throbbing in his mind, chest, or palms that drove him to that tipping point didn¡¯t matter. He let out something that hadn¡¯t had the chance to boil and steam, which had now been released and warmed him up to an alien concept he imbued into his feet.

    Freedom.

    <hr>

    Gideon took off, Hilario and two other SDD officers on his tail. So¡ªto his dismay and safety¡ªhe had to pace and slow himself to a haggard jog. He¡¯d probably open a few wounds if he were reckless.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°That scream was loud as hell!¡± The officer gulped down a shaky breath. ¡°Is it really the Berserker?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so!¡±

    ¡°Eh!¡±

    Gideon and Hilario answered at the same time again, but their argument had to wait. Though, routinely, the captain once again claimed the wheel of the situation¡ªhe led the charge in the crumbling district.

    ¡°It could may as well be it, but don¡¯t get your hopes¡ª¡±

    He paused, heaving and gritting his teeth as he ran. He was jogging faster by accident. So he slowed down.

    Calm down.

    ¡°You ok, cap?¡± The other lower officer asked.

    Calm down.

    ¡°Of course¡­ of¡­ of course¡ªyeah, hmm.¡± The captain tutted. ¡°Just¡­don¡¯t get too hopeful, ¡®kay? We¡¯re battered, and it feels like every person here is going apesh¡ª¡±

    He was going faster again. Did they notice? Was Hilario judging him silently? He paced himself again.

    Calm down. Calm. Down.

    They tried to stay silent, but the world around them was loud. The collision of any form of the supernatural and cement shook the entire downtown district, beating their hearts for them. Shouts and occasional gunfire would arise alongside the mountains of smoke shooting from the earth. The rising sirens tolled the burst of resistance against them, magnifying this from a simple police case to a war.

    Gideon wished for all of it to shut up.

    Tune them out.

    He couldn¡¯t.

    Tune it out.

    He strained his eyes.

    Tune it out.

    It was futile, but he looked onward¡ªfocused only on going forward.

    The other officers are handling any ruffians.

    His speed spiked. He slowed.

    Calm down¡ªwe cleared a decent path.

    He eyed around. Some residents of the district hid behind charred tents.

    The non-hostile few that are here will hopefully be evacu¡ª

    His speed spiked. He slowed.

    Focus on yourself now.

    The footsteps and dry breaths behind him felt distant. He slowed.

    Focus on the squad¡¯s mission.

    He focused on the darkness lying ahead, barely illuminated by the sky. But whatever lay ahead was still unknown, regardless of how much light shone on it.

    Did the scream come from outside?

    Cracking buildings on the side led his eyes astray.

    Or from inside one of the buildings?

    Nothingness on the other side led his eyes astray.

    Stop being distracted. The officers will scout the buildings, too.

    He looked ahead.

    You can die.

    He kept forward.

    Be scared of that.

    He kept forward.

    Remove distractions.

    He kept forward.

    Move.

    Forward.

    Keep straight.

    Forward.

    Focus.

    Forward.

    Focus.

    Forward.

    Focus.

    Forward.

    A turn is coming. We may have to take it. Visualize the running field.

    The blank scenery transformed in front of him, blinking on and off like a light. White chalk bending on artificial greenery, his breathing being the only rhythm in the world, his one arm tugging the responsibility of balance¡ªthe perfect simulation.

    His perfect realm.

    Perfect. Now, focus.

    He ran.

    Regulate your breathing.

    He ran.

    Be afraid of that turn¡ªyou can fall.

    He ran.

    So focus.

    He leapt.

    Focus.

    He erupted.

    Focus!

    No distractions, no sound¡ªhe couldn¡¯t be broken now.

    Focus!

    A raindrop.

    One hulking figure crashed down into his focus.

    Focus¡ªshi¡ª

    ¡°Gid¡ªWatch out!¡±

    A tornado.

    The figure spun, the bulk of a crocodile tail swinging at full tilt towards his churning stomach.

    Gideon stumbled back, the simulation shattering before him. Then¡ªmanipulating his fall¡ªhe drew a sharp breath and repelled himself backwards, rolling onto the ground. The wind from the tail swing stung his face as he attempted to stabilize himself to kneel.

    ¡°Fack!¡±

    He tried to tend to his aching stub.

    A thunderclap.

    The beast swamped his view after his heart managed to catch a beat. Darkness swallowed him in another heartbeat.

    The only light he could see was the one in the monster¡¯s chest, flashing before his eyes.

    He screamed.

    Then, the darkness spat him out. A devastating force powered by a grainy grunt tore over his head, launching the deformed mess through the air before it skidded on the pavement and stopped near a building¡¯s plastered corner.

    ¡°Gideon, you good, ma¡ªShoot it if it gets up!¡±

    A shadow of a raised hand fell out of view. The other two officers hesitantly agreed. Their guns clicked, jumpstarting Gideon to life.

    He forgot to breathe. He forgot to pump his blood. He forgot to react.

    But when he began doing these things, he couldn¡¯t stop. His body shook.

    ¡°Gid!¡±

    Hilario pulled him out of his slump on the ground, retracting his nails to handle his superior. There was urgency in every movement as the leuietneant¡¯s strained eyes stared out to the jittering body inches away from where they stood.

    Gideon resurfaced, feeling the tightness in Hilario¡¯s grip.

    ¡°Thank¡ª¡± He coughed, speaking quicker than he could wheeze. ¡°Thanks, Hilario¡ª¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re¡­ uh¡­ man¡ªyou¡¯re welcome¡ªyou feeling good?¡±

    Gideon¡¯s throat ached. Everything did.

    ¡°I¡­ I almost died¡ªforget about it¡ªk¡ªkill him now¡ªnow! He¡¯s gonna get up!¡±

    ¡°Yes, cap!¡±

    One of the officers fired, drawing a strangled scream from the beast as the bullet engraved itself in its writhing shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t stop! This is the opportunity, dammit¡ª¡±

    ¡°Right!¡±

    Another bullet. The shoulder again. Scream.

    Another bullet. The upper back. Shriek.

    Another bullet. Miss. Howl.

    The squadron shuddered as the beast came to a rest, shaking weakly like a fish out of water as it lay in pooling blood.

    ¡°I¡ªIs it ov¡ª¡±

    ¡°Shoot again.¡±

    The soldier¡¯s pistol shivered in his hands, Gideon¡¯s eyes analyzing the way both of the officers¡¯ faces contorted, even when one of them hadn¡¯t even fired the pistol. He turned to Hilario, the man looking at the air which hung beyond the bloody mess.

    Gideon grasped his breathing and slowed it. He spat phlegm on the ground, emptying the gnawing feeling in his throat.

    ¡°Alive or dead doesn¡¯t matter!¡± He talked over the hectic background crying and explosions as if to tame the storm. ¡°We just need the body¡ªand I get that it¡¯s a bit daunting¡ªcompletely get that.¡±

    He paused, allowing himself to soak in his own words and breathe. He couldn¡¯t elaborate further; he forgot what he wanted to say.

    So he moved on.

    ¡°It¡¯s all good, man.¡± He shrugged away from Hilario¡¯s grip, the latter¡¯s attention flipping back to the scene. Gideon smiled an uncertain one that lacked a glow. ¡°¡®Grats on being right. Happy that we got this chance to hopefully finish this job today¡ªalright, enough stall, let¡¯s¡ª¡±

    Tsunami.

    Blood splattered in all directions, washing over them violently.

    It was almost like a wave in the first second, a small gesture that stirred them.

    A calm before the storm.

    But the storm came as their shouts meshed together with the grinding of scales and the rapid peeling of skin. But not once were there screeches from the downtrodden.

    The guns dropped. Gideon¡¯s jaw followed.

    Of course¡­ Of ¡®effin course¡­

    All that lay in a red pool of skin and hair was a crocodile, everything intact aside from its naturality.

    What kind of logi¡ªno¡­ ¡®eff me¡ª

    ¡°Run!¡±

    They made a mad, slippery dash.

    That heart¡­ That piece of shi¡¯ allows for too much freedom!

    In a thunderclap, the crocodile took to the ashy skies above them, roaring and wielding an untamed light in its maw.

    Then, all of them saw the light.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 22: Saving Hides

    ¡°Don¡¯t look back!¡±

    Gideon would never let them turn back. Forward was the only way. But following such a route¡ªeven for him¡ªwasn¡¯t light work.

    Light exploded above them, diving away from their overhead as a crash and roar shook them.

    There¡¯s the ligh¡ª

    A fiery spark flickered into his view. Then it blew up near his face.

    ¡°Ack!¡± His eardrums rocked furiously, his body flying along with the smoked concrete and smog. His world spun, rolling to a stop in a bloody streak, his uniform and skin scraping against the rough floor.

    He couldn¡¯t hear himself breathe, nor could he feel it. Everything became blind to him. Even at a standstill, his view shook¡ªall that lingered in his vision was the aurora.

    Stand up!

    He shivered, struggling to do what he instructed.

    What¡¯s happening to the others? I need to¡ª

    His hearing cleared, another explosion shattering his ears.

    That¡¯s the fire ability¡­ I have to¡ª

    Hilario yanked him to his feet with one blunt hand.

    ¡°Gid! Stay close!¡±

    The lieutenant shook. The grip was flimsy, and his other hand was at its sharpest, the blades jittering and clacking against one another.

    ¡°Off¡­ Offi-Officer Warner is getting¡ª¡±

    ¡°What? Finish, Hil¡ª¡±

    The man¡¯s breath hitched as a scream riddled the air, a bloodcurdling one that broke his dizziness and forced him upright.

    And then he looked forward and suffocated.

    A lump of thumping crocodile skin encroached around the stocky officer, the scales crunching into his hairy body and chewing him into stock.

    ¡°Help!¡±

    Gideon couldn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Please! Please!¡±

    M-Move! Come on, legs!

    ¡°Plea¡ª¡±

    The skin ensnared him in one fell swoop, leaving droplets of juice as if the beast had just bitten into a fruit. Before the bulging skin retreated into its host, it vomited the seeds, tatters of the officer¡¯s uniform spitting onto the ashen sidewalk in wet bursts.

    The beast tutted its red maw, planting its sights through their very being. The carnivorous intent ploughed through their disbelief, the beast¡¯s soiled feet glaring at them as if to warn them of something.

    A storm.

    And that was enough to sow the seeds of dread into their minds.

    Without a word, the two officers started into an uncalculated escape, faces pale and damp as they stumbled on charred litter.

    They took a step.

    Thunderclap.

    A crash boomed, stopping them in their hurry. Their heads shot backwards instinctively at the crumbling of rubble.

    The crocodile lay behind them, attempting to regain its bearings from the crash into a weathered building. Its roar was too close, and it banged its head against the air as if it were fighting itself.

    The two shrieked. Gideon thrusted his foot out in a trip, Hilario¡¯s palm following milliseconds after. An immense force erupted from the duo, sweeping the monster off its feet and casting it across the street.

    They didn¡¯t know where it landed; they took off without a thought, the graze on Gideon¡¯s shoulder from Hilario¡¯s retracting nails being nothing more than an afterthought.

    ¡°Damn¡±¡ªHilario cursed in Spanish in a wavering voice¡ª¡±sorry about¡ª¡±

    ¡°Forget it¡ªit¡¯s fine¡ªjust focus on escaping¡ªagh, ¡®effing hell!¡±

    With each step, his body cried out. It wanted to stop.

    ¡°You ok?¡±

    It wanted to heal.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡ªjust keep going forward!¡±

    It wanted to brake.

    ¡°Ugh!¡± Gideon¡¯s voice strained, plummeting into a ghastly groan.

    It wanted to break.

    ¡°What is¡ª¡±

    ¡°Where did the other officer go?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t break now.

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    ¡°Offi¡ªWilder escaped while he could! I don¡¯t know where, though!¡±

    Hilario took a wide breath after his hasty sentence. Gideon did as well.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ good.¡±

    No, it isn¡¯t. We lost ¡®effin Warner!

    He grimaced as they both heard another crash and roar. ¡°We should turn a corner and lose ¡®im!¡±

    He tripped but steadied himself.

    ¡°It can be as fast as it likes but¡ªugh!¡± He clutched his empty sleeve, trying to calm the burning in his stub. ¡°It realistically can¡¯t control its speed all too well!¡±

    ¡°True¡­ yeah¡ªtrue!¡±

    They dipped into a small alley, sticking to the walls as the ground trembled below them. A scuttle from deep within the darkness made them cringe¡ªa simple shock that quickened their breathing.

    The chaotic noises droned on and on. They wouldn¡¯t stop. It didn¡¯t help¡ªnot a single bit.

    Block the sounds out¡­ Calm down¡­

    He breathed in, then out.

    Block them out.

    In. Out.

    Block¡­

    His eyes widened and blinked, trying to block out the haziness in his sight. This job wasn¡¯t an in-and-out. It was a long-haul job that weighed on him and other officers for countless days.

    So why was he trying to block everything out? They could only go forward.

    Why am I stopping? Wait¡ª

    He sniffed, rubbing his snout in a fast swoop.

    ¡°What the hell are we stopping for? We forgot to report to the¡ª¡±

    ¡°D¡ªDamn it¡±¡ªHilario caught his breath and clicked on the radio strapped to him¡ª¡±I got it¡ª¡±

    ¡°And let¡¯s be on the move while doing so!¡±

    His body hated his words. But he acted on them, jogging to the alley¡¯s entrance, looking left and right as if looking out for an oncoming vehicle.

    Static startled him. He clenched his fist at the noise.

    ¡°It¡¯s just auroral disruption¡ªcalm the ¡®eff down¡ª¡±

    A connection formed.

    ¡°Beware of the Berserker¡ªplease!¡± Hilario staggered to Gideon¡¯s heaving side. ¡°Please take caution¡ªit turned into a freaking crocodile at high speed¡ªhave your rifles on the ready! Me and the captain¡­ will try to meet back with the main group¡­ if we can make¡ª¡±

    ¡°We should move.¡± Gideon stared back at Hilario, who finished the message. ¡°ASAP.¡±

    But there it was. As Hilario nodded, Gideon noted the concerned look the man wore with all the sweat. It wasn¡¯t as pronounced as it always was, but he prided himself in his two working eyes.

    He wants to argue, huh?

    Gideon didn¡¯t know what he wanted to dispute, but the man was an easy read. And he appreciated that. At the moment, there was no time to put up fronts. It was life-or-death, all-or-nothing. It was reality.

    So they began running, and he feigned liveliness. He ejected small bursts of force from the pores of his soles, boosting his stride while also keeping level with the slower Hilario. They had to keep moving; there was no time to disagree with duty.

    No time for latency, either.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Hilario asked through a huff.

    A nearby explosion sounded. Screams arose. The ground rumbled again. Ash hovered in the air and their noses. Mauled corpses littered the streets. Bodies scuttled and fell within dark buildings.

    ¡°I¡­¡±

    A plan, huh?

    They turned a corner. No turnover.

    More explosions. More bloody cloth on the ground. More corpses. More trembling. More rumbling. More hungriness. More sweat. More blood. More tears.

    Yet, there was not more time to think.

    Don¡¯t buckle up. Just say something. Reassure him.

    The sight of red and blue brought a sense of relief to his eyes.

    ¡°Let¡¯s group up¡­ then, uh¡ªwe track down the beast as soon as possible.¡±

    Yeah¡­ Something like that. We need more¡­ gun power behind us. The monster will still die from several gunshots. Let¡¯s not kid ourselves on that one.

    ¡°Stay back! This is considered obstruction!¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the place for normal citizens!¡±

    But its speed¡­ The firepower¡­ It burnt Warner, didn¡¯t it?

    ¡°Stay! Back!¡±

    ¡°Drive off for your safety!¡±

    Who knows what else it has to fight¡­ after fusing with so many things?

    ¡°Captain! Lieutenant! Are you ok?¡±

    ¡°Captain¡ª¡±

    ¡°Are you ok?¡±

    The cacophony of sounds forced him out of his thoughts, realizing he had reached the destination. Surrounded by police cars, three other officers, and blinking lights¡ªhe clasped his knee and surrendered himself to taking a breather. Rapid, heavy breaths poured out of his mouth, hearing the same from Hilario, who had recovered quicker than he had after a few seconds.

    So he attempted to stand straight as well.

    ¡°Cap! You good?¡± One of the officers asked.

    The wounds stung more soon after the question was asked, almost as if he wanted to deny it.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± His mind raced as more nonsense and incoherent words poured into his ears. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ fine.¡±

    Get a grip. You can¡¯t stay here for too¡ª

    ¡°We just wanna see what¡¯s going down!¡±

    That isn¡¯t an officer¡¯s voice¡­

    Murmuring a curse, he checked if his body camera was intact.

    ¡°We have some citizens trying to get onto the scene, sir!¡±

    Perfect.

    ¡°We¡¯re tryna get them away!¡±

    Just perfect.

    His body camera was fine. But these newcomers weren¡¯t¡ªnot physically fine in the future but not mentally fine in the moment.

    None of this was new; lunacy wasn¡¯t new.

    He¡¯d pass it off usually. But now¡ªwith static in his head¡ªhe couldn¡¯t ignore the flies buzzing around his head, the weight stacked against him.

    Perhaps he was at his wits¡¯ end¡ªhis limit.

    ¡°Right¡­¡± Hilario stepped in with a sigh. ¡°Please evacuate from the scene, it¡¯s dangerous¡ª¡±

    ¡°And grass is ¡®effin green¡ªwe¡¯ll be fine! This is out of our own volition¡ª¡±

    ¡°What? What¡ªNo, we got a¡ª¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have time for this!¡±

    Gideon looked up reluctantly to meet all of their gazes that fell on him. He heaved a breath and took in the appearance of the crazy in question.

    A burly man with too calm of a look. He stood near a car, where two passengers peeked out the window. He could vaguely make out a third one in the backseat as well.

    ¡°Oh shi¡ªyou¡¯re Cap. Gideon¡ª¡±

    ¡°Leave! This is a highly deadly matter! This shouldn¡¯t concern you at all!¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to save your life here!¡±

    ¡°We can help actually!¡±

    Gideon fell back, face twisted as the other officers took the role of expressing audible confusion.

    ¡°Stop joking around¡ª¡±

    ¡°Leave now¡ª¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m pretty strong! I can help¡ª¡±

    Ugh¡­

    ¡°Leave!¡±

    ¡°My friends back there have some fire powers to lend!¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t bring in normal people!¡±

    I can¡¯t think¡­

    ¡°You need more people anyway¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    ¡°You all are practically useless against that thing¡ª¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re doing the best we can!¡±

    I can¡¯t¡­ think. Shut up¡­

    Explosions.

    Screams.

    Shouts.

    Tyres.

    Beeps.

    Shut up¡­

    Sirens.

    Sirens.

    Sirens.

    Shut up¡­

    Hilario tapped his wet shoulder.

    ¡°You good man?¡± He spoke just loud enough over the background bickering. ¡°You¡¯re tensing up.¡±

    His eyes widened.

    We don¡¯t have much time¡­

    Gideon raised his foot.

    There¡¯s no more time to slack like this¡­

    Then¡ªwith a resounding boom¡ªhe put his foot down, silencing everyone around him, shivering them with the breeze and authority.

    I call the shots here. So¡­

    ¡°Cap?¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t got much time¡­¡±

    The wounds burnt against him with every move, but those seeds of despair incinerated in his stormy wake. With his face red and scrunched, he gestured to the stranger before him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go! If this is what you want, follow!¡±

    All he saw was the man perk up like a toddler.

    And at the corner of his eye, the officers wanted to argue. Hilario wanted to argue.

    But once again, forward was the only way. That was their duty.

    ¡°Lesgo if you want to come so bad! Come on!¡±

    He could never turn his back on duty.

 (Shelf Life ARC) Chapter 23: Darn It

    I want to turn back.

    She already had doubts brewing from the jump; she couldn¡¯t deny that. But now that she was in the actual scene¡ªwhere sounds boomed from every side¡ªthe weight of her long overdue decision crashed her down to the car floor.

    Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

    Authority¡¯s eyes peered into a car. Even under the freezing gazes, further aided by their incomprehensible scolding of the person who dangled this opportunity in front of her, chills slithered down her thin spine. It was almost as if they were getting pulled over.

    For what crime? That was obvious. But her mind flickered to the endless list of malicious actions they could do, some straying far from reality when considering the unreal state of the world. No matter what she thought of, her hands trembled around her cane as if cold blood drenched her palms.

    She hugged the cane as the overlapping shouts outside surged.

    Sin. What¡­ What did¡­ What did I just get myself into?

    But it was her choice, right? She saw the text. She processed it. Then she accepted it.

    The words ¡®skid row¡¯ should¡¯ve raised her eyebrow and capitalized the text. Though here she was, listening to the two men in the same boat as her swamp the window, gawking and gossiping about the ensuing chaos outside.

    ¡°They better let us through!¡±

    Benedict was recording.

    ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t think they will actu¡ª¡±

    ¡°The man¡¯s spittin¡¯ though¡ª¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t take Theta seriously if I was the captain¡ª¡±

    ¡°Same, same, not gonna lie!¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    Her resolve shook with the car. And once again, she was the outcast. She almost wondered if she were the only human within the vehicle. But that would be lying to herself, thinking that her purple skin was the rich olive she loved. And there was one thing she wasn¡¯t, regardless of how much she wished for fallacies to come true.

    She wasn¡¯t a liar. At least, that¡¯s what she thought. The truth was the only way she progressed in life; she would lead herself astray without its guidance. Yet, her sides cringed in pain as silence fell onto the group outside, a dominant voice taking over as if to slam an iron fist on them and get them arrested. This should¡¯ve been expected. The truth should always be expected. But it hurt. It stung.

    Everything new¡ªthe radiation, the city, her broken life¡ªhurt her. Nothing was like it were anymore, and she didn¡¯t quite know what to expect.

    And then the dominant voice came in again, forcing her bile to bubble in the pits of her stomach. She clung tighter to the cane as the air and her blood ran cold. Yellow-bellied, she attempted to disappear again, shivering with the car.

    Then, the two men let out a belly laugh.

    ¡°Hey¡ªlesgo!¡±

    ¡°Miss Cosima, hurry up!¡±

    Before she could react, the men did what she couldn¡¯t and vanished; the car door slammed shut in a heartbeat.

    ¡°Wait¡­ the fu¡ª¡±

    An uproar occurred alongside a stampede of footsteps approaching her side of the car. She froze, finding no strength to scramble away. The door flung open.

    ¡°Cosima!¡± Theta¡¯s burly figure rose and fell as if he ran a marathon. ¡°Wanna come?¡±

    She stammered.

    ¡°Quick, quick, quick! No time, no time!¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­ Uh¡ª¡±

    ¡°Come on¡ªquick! Just say what you want¡ªquick, quick!¡±

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    The pressure crumpled her.

    But she nodded hesitantly to escape from it, her nod not finishing a second time as Theta¡¯s hands overwhelmed her.

    And soon enough, she was in Theta¡¯s arms.

    ¡°You¡¯re extremely light!¡±

    Why did I accept?

    ¡°Ugh, they¡¯re getting a headstart!¡± Theta burst into a weighty run.

    The hell am I doing?

    Theta swerved past police cars and the three officers, who shouted at the departing party.

    ¡°Captain!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t just take civilians like that!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not safe!¡±

    ¡°The blame will fall all on me, don¡¯t worry!¡± The captain¡¯s voice rang from afar, which became closer as they neared the source. ¡°I¡¯ll protect them!¡±

    Cosima¡¯s scrambled mind heard faint groaning from the officers left behind. But maybe it was hers, failing to interpret the lightning pace of the world around her.

    Arguably, the car felt like a haven. It was temporary, but at the moment¡ªespecially in the area they were in¡ªit kept her safe.

    But now, she was out in the open. Her true feelings, however, didn¡¯t come with her.

    They had somehow caught up to the party, throwing caution to the wind.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe we actually got this chance!¡± Benedict giggled in his loud whisper. ¡°We are helping the police¡ªwe are ¡®effin helping the police!¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Theta said, not even restraining himself. ¡°I¡¯m happy to help the incompe¡ª¡±

    ¡°I hope you realize the consequences of going into this district!¡± The captain shouted to them, clearly exhausted. ¡°Keep all your eyes peeled for mobs! People have randomly gone mad here!¡±

    ¡°Oh, we know! We¡¯ll be fine¡ªby the way, this isn¡¯t all that surprising! It¡ª¡±

    ¡°Well, at least you¡¯re passionate to help¡ªhowever, what can you do?¡±

    Cosiima felt Theta''s shoulders drop slightly. He blew a small raspberry.

    ¡°Well, I already mentioned the firepower the two minions running here have!¡±

    His gaze fell onto her.

    ¡°The li¡¯l baby here will hopefully vomit something strong!¡±

    What¡­

    ¡°And me?¡± Theta laughed awkwardly. ¡°The loud noises and smells are irritating the hell out of me!¡±

    ¡°The heightened senses will help¡ª¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to say that! Better instincts are definitely the best power one could ask for!¡±

    ¡°Baby? Wait!¡± It was the lieutenant this time. ¡°Why do you have that person in your arms?¡±

    Huh?

    ¡°Hilario, what¡ª¡±

    ¡°The man has a person in their arms! They look sickly!¡±

    Oh¡­

    ¡°Oh! Just a friend¡ª¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t look like a healthy one¡ªwhy did you bring them?¡±

    ¡°Screw me¡ªwe don¡¯t have time for this¡ª¡±

    ¡°We have to make time for it, Gid! The person shouldn¡¯t be here!¡±

    ¡°Well, we can¡¯t turn back now¡ªthink about our situation!¡±

    ¡°We should probs turn left at this next intersection! I have a really good feeling so¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s on you if that person in your arms gets hurt!¡± The captain¡¯s voice had gone drier. ¡°I¡¯d have thought it was common sense to leave them behind and safe with my men!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine! She¡¯s in good hands!¡±

    ¡°I hope¡ª¡±

    ¡°Watch out, by the way!¡±

    ¡°Huh¡ª¡±

    A mutated gang of people manifested from behind a building. Blood-soaked and bloodthirsty, they lashed out at the shocked party with barrages of jabs, blasts, and shouts.

    ¡°Incapacitate them!¡±

    It all felt like whiplash. Only when the first nearby explosion boomed did she truly grasp her position. She lay in a grown man¡¯s arms as he parried incoming blows with little difficulty than she expected. Then¡ªbeyond her expectations¡ªshe could vaguely make out Benedict scrubbing his palms together and Harsh breathing out flames, standing their ground with the two SDD officers. And these were the same people giggling in the car as if they were giddy teens who didn¡¯t know better.

    But she knew nothing better, her view shifting to the aurora above as Theta shifted her. Everything around her was dark and unrecognizable; every sense she had dulled from the constant movement.

    The bile rose again. But she couldn¡¯t run. Her life was on autopilot, governed by someone else¡¯s competence. The man¡¯s grip was tight. The aurora was distracting. Her body was breaking.

    What¡¯s¡­ happening?

    Orders flew around. More running. Mob fights around every corner.

    I don¡¯t want to die¡­ I don¡¯t want to die¡­

    Punches. Pushes. Fire.

    I don¡¯t want to die¡­ Please¡­

    Move. Fight. Move. Fight. Move. Fight.

    She fought off the rise in her stomach to no avail, being her first fight ever since she became a part of the party. But thinking that she was a part of something was wrong.

    How could she be considered a part of something if she didn¡¯t even have control over herself? She wasn¡¯t a cornerstone at that moment, and all she could do was watch the light above all the madness around her.

    Damn it.

    The lights were stronger than her. They colored her, sapped her life away, and molded her to fit their ideals. She had no strength above them as they made her.

    Damn it.

    All she could do was lie in defeat and lose herself to the higher powers¡ªthe merciless nature she was used to.

    Damn it.

    But as much as she damned it, all she could do was look up past the scruffy beard of her carrier and long for what power lay beyond her. She almost forgot why she even accepted the offer to come, but the looming reminder irked her to no end.

    What was the point of it all? Where was her gain? When could she control her situation?

    She hated asking questions when she could just act on what she wanted like she used to.

    The rapid movements shook her, forcing a yearning energy from her stomach closer and closer to the surface. It wanted to let loose. It wanted to rage. It wanted to explode.

    So¡ªwithout a lick of authority¡ªshe let one lucrative desire roam free as the first stream of mucus ran from her chapped lips in a painful cough.

    Another turning point.

    I want to turn back.