《The Dark Hierophant Saga (Complete)》 Prologue I slowed my truck as I reached the end of a long driveway. My tires dug into the soft gravel, sending small pebbles to ding against the underside of my truck. The house itself was small and yellow, its paint long faded from the sun. Green shutters lined windows that had been thrown wide open, letting out the smell of freshly made lemon bars. ¡°Liv?¡± I yelled as I stepped out of my truck. ¡°Troy? You guys here? Whatever you¡¯re cooking smells delicious.¡± I stepped around a small moving truck as I walked towards the porch. The sliding door at the rear of the truck was still open, revealing lines of neatly stacked boxes and a few pieces of furniture covered with blankets. From beneath a cloth, I saw the white marble of one of the godawful pillars Liv¡¯s mother had given her as a wedding present. Liv would never leave them behind. She and I shared that instinct. We had both lost people close to us, and we clung to the things that held their memories. My eyes lingered on the truck for a moment, as my hands grasped at my brown leather jacket. Some memories were too painful to linger on, and yet even still, we kept the artifacts that linked us to them. ¡°So, what¡¯s going on guys?¡± I yelled. I walked up the porch steps and knocked before opening the screen door. The wire mesh still had a gash in the center from the time Troy and I had got drunk and started trying to hit each other with darts. Liv had never forgiven us for the holes we had put in the walls. She was even less pleased when she saw the tear I had created in the screen door while trying to dodge once of Troy''s drunken throws. I knocked again, before walking into an empty room. ¡°You guys moving and didn¡¯t tell me?¡± The house was spotless, except for a few boxes that littered the bare floors. The pictures had even been taken down, small squares of white stood out against the yellowed wallpaper. My eyes lingered for a moment on the faded crayon drawings around the bottom of the walls. ¡°Gus!¡± Liv shouted as she ran from the kitchen, throwing her arms around me. ¡°How the hell have you been? We haven¡¯t seen you in weeks.¡± ¡°I¡¯m ¡­ good,¡± I stammered. ¡°Busy with school. I, uh, got your calls though.¡± Liv squeezed my shoulders before pushing herself away. She looked up at me as she brushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear, revealing a long scar above her eyebrow. ¡°You should come in,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted to tell you in person.¡± ¡°What did you want to tell me?¡± I asked. ¡°Let¡¯s get Troy, first,¡± she answered, ¡°do you want some tea? I¡¯m out of coffee.¡± ¡°None for me, thanks. It¡¯s getting late, and I wasn¡¯t planning on staying long.¡± I could hear Troy yelling at a television in the other room. The volume was loud enough that I could hear every word of a commenter discussing a fumbled ball.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°I take it Troy¡¯s in there,¡± I pointed towards the back room. ¡°You know it,¡± Liv said as she offered me a plate of lemon bars. ¡°Could you get him to turn that thing off for a moment?¡± ¡°Ah, sure,¡± I took a delectable square of lemony goodness and walked toward the sound of sports announcers and an angry Troy. I wasn¡¯t sure which was louder. As I entered the room I saw Troy decked out in full scarlet and black regalia, screaming at the TV while completely oblivious to everything else around him. ¡°Go Tigers!¡± I yelled, the only surefire way to get his attention. ¡°Fuck you,¡± Troy mumbled without any anger as he paused the game. ¡°We¡¯re getting our asses handed to us and then you come in here with that fucking mojo? It¡¯s bad enough half of our offense graduated last year.¡± ¡°Good to see you too,¡± I said. Troy stood up to give me a quick side hug, ¡°you doing okay? You don¡¯t look so great. I mean you always look like shit, like the mopey offspring of Chewbacca and the slender man. You just look tired.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re a catch?¡± I asked. ¡°Well,¡± he shrugged, ¡°I did marry the prom queen.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, don¡¯t let Liv hear you talking like that. By the way, she wanted me to get you.¡± ¡°Oh shit, you haven¡¯t heard the news yet?¡± ¡°No, not ¡ª¡± I began to say, just as Liv entered the room and set a small pitcher of sweet tea on the coffee table. ¡°Glad to see you two boys getting along,¡± she smiled. ¡°Troy wouldn¡¯t tell you this, but he¡¯s missed you these past few months.¡± ¡°So, uh,¡± I mumbled, ¡°what¡¯s going on with the truck?¡± ¡°Here,¡± Liv handed me a folded letter. As soon as I saw the letterhead I knew what it was, but I scanned it anyways to make sure it had those magic words, ¡®We¡¯re happy to inform you ¡­¡¯ ¡°You got in? That¡¯s great Liv, you deserve it. When do you leave?¡± ¡°Tomorrow,¡± Troy answered, ¡°We¡¯re heading out a few weeks early to get things set up.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡­ I don¡¯t know what to say. I wish I had known earlier.¡± ¡°We only decided to go a few days ago,¡± Liv said, leaning into my shoulder. ¡°Troy just started a new job, and I¡¯ve never really left Charleston before. And with everything that happened with ¡­ We¡¯ll be in touch, though. Promise.¡± ¡°So,¡± Troy said as he sank back into the sofa and grabbed the remote. ¡°You going to stay for Pizza? It should be here soon. Maybe help me with the last of these boxes?¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem.¡± Chapter 1: Day Breaks, Night Falls The drive home started off peaceful. I rolled my windows down to enjoy the cool night air, as the heat of day gradually faded. The splendid oranges of dusk were just beginning to darken, and a full moon illuminated a starless sky. I loved these long drives home at night. I didn¡¯t have to worry about studying, or why my best friends had been avoiding me and were now running away. It was just me and the road. No distractions, even my phone was turned off and had been tossed into the seat behind me. As I rounded the final turn before I got home, I noticed what looked like a shooting star. It cut through the night, dividing it with a fiery trail, and it was steadily getting larger. I shaded my eyes with one hand and slammed on the brakes as the light continued to grow. At the same instant that my truck slid to a stop, the sky exploded. The horizon lit up with intermittent flashes of gold and red. As the sky began to burn I felt a coldness descend over me, chilling me to the core and leaving me unable to move. The sky continued to grow brighter until a line opened directly in front of me, dissecting the sky. It gradually grew larger and the flashing lights allowed brief glimpses of a churning darkness that was slowly growing from the tear. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Tendrils began to spin out from the center of the darkness, each one dancing and writhing independently from each other. There was no apparent pattern to the movement, but the shifting shadows were strangely mesmerizing. They burned themselves into my mind in a way I can never cleanse. The darkness spun, as it still does in my dreams, a wreath of death upon the sky. I stared, transfixed, and the darkness gazed back. Folds of shadow twisted and spun to reveal an eye. It burned red, as large, and as bright as the sun. The world froze, and my mind retreated. I cannot name the unfathomable things I saw within that gaze. When I think of it my mind shuts down in panic, unable to comprehend the horror of the images that swam before me. The sky lit up once more as the eye retreated. A shimmering gold and white turned night into day, blinding my still confused eyes. The world came apart around me and I stared blankly into the sky. Asphalt and gravel swirled around my truck as it was lifted into the air, leaving a crumbling road behind. Trees and rocks spiraled around me, slamming into each other with resounding force. I heard the screech of bending metal as something large and heavy slammed into the bed of my truck. I could hear screams, probably my own, but they were muffled and sounded far away, as if underwater. I felt the crash, as a wave of force that moved through me. The air was driven from my lungs and my screams silenced. My bones vibrated and shattered, pushed out of place to make room for organs and limbs as they repositioned themselves in unfamiliar alignments. It should have been painful, but it all happened in slow motion and felt as though it were happening to someone else. It was like a dream or a half-forgotten memory. I tried to reach out to grab onto something, anything, but all I could find was smoke. It tasted acrid and bitter as it forced its way into lungs and burned my eyes. I remember the heat on my arms and the glow ofembers as flame danced around me. Inch by inch, they consumed everything, growing ever closer. I gasped for breath, but my chest wouldn¡¯t rise. I couldn¡¯t focus, and I felt cold. My mind was hazy, but for a moment I saw the form of a man leaning over me, watching. Then, I saw nothing. *** Congratulations! ¡° ¡­ the fuck?¡± I summarized. I awoke to a strangely chipper robotic voice in my head and a translucent screen that was visible even with my eyes closed. His hunger knows no bounds, and you have awoken him, but fear not! The Old One, Crimson Hunter of the Void, has been contained! The Hegemony of Worlds has accepted your planet as a provisional Tier 4 member. Your world, and all its citizens, will be given the opportunity to grow and develop to meet the coming challenges. For more information, please think ¡°menu¡± and then select ¡°guide.¡± Good luck. System loading¡­. Basic stats package prepared! ¡°Stats¡± can be viewed by thinking "stats" or ¡°status¡± at any time. Augustus Finn Class: N/A Level: 1 Stamina (r/ per second): 16/16 (0.133) Mana (r/ per minute): 19/19 (0.633) Might: 8 Agility: 6 Reaction: 6If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Intellect: 9 Perception: 10 Focus: 5 Phys. Resist: 1 Mag. Resist: 1 I looked down at myself, expecting broken bones and charred flesh. I was not only whole, I had never felt better. As I stood I felt nearly weightless, and my arms felt as though they could bend steel. Even the faint edge of tiredness was gone as if I had just woken from the best sleep of my life. I wanted to try deadlifting a truck or deflecting bullets with my chest. The euphoria was almost like a drug. My mental health, on the other hand, I wasn¡¯t so sure about. Flashing screens were competing for my attention and the things they were saying were clearly impossible. Congratulations! You met your new life on the brink of life and death, and yet you persevered through sheer determination and adaptability. New feat(s) unlocked ¨C Reactive Adaptability ?! All resistances +1! Congratulations! You have unlocked your first feat! Random common skill(s) unlocked ¨C Arcane bolt ? 0/10! Congratulations! You have entered your first dungeon!! Every adventure begins with a single step, and this is yours. As a Dungeon Delver ?, you gain +1 unallocated stat(s) per level!! You currently have three (3) unallocated stats. I looked away from the screens, trying to learn more of my surroundings. Beneath me was a pool of blood. It was probably my own, and yet I didn¡¯t have so much as a bruise on me. My eyes followed a trail of blood back to what remained of my sky-blue pickup. It was almost completely destroyed. The bed, and everything in it, had been sheared off and there was no trace of where it went. Only a twisted cab remained. The roof of the truck was completely caved in, with bits of jagged metal where the driver¡¯s side seat should have been. The passenger seat was the only thing still intact. I reached into the cab and retrieved my green canvas backpack and the brown leather jacket that was still folded neatly in the center of the seat. It was an old bombers jacket that had once belonged to my grandfather. The image of a Valkyrie holding a spear above a burning biplane flying over aroman numeral ¡°XIII¡± adorned the otherwise faded jacket. I concentrated on the memories contained in that jacket and managed to stave off panic, if only briefly. A faint green light illuminated my immediate surroundings and drew my eyes upwards. I was beneath an impossibly high domed ceiling that was alive with swaying tendrils that glowed with blue and green bioluminescence. It was beautiful, almost like stars floating on the surface of a black and swaying ocean. I turned as I heard a scratching sound behind me, but when I looked I found only empty darkness. The only thing I could hear was the faint susurrus of flowing water coming somewhere in the distance. ¡°Hello?¡± I shouted. The only reply was a quiet echo. I could feel the pressure of my blood as my heart began to beat faster. I could hear it pumping as it flowed through my ears, a steady drumming that drowned out all else. My hands grew cold and sweaty. Something was there, and yet I couldn¡¯t see or hear anything. Some primal sense I had never felt before in my sheltered upbringing was warning me of danger. I tried to quiet my racing mind by assessing the situation and stopping to take a few deep breaths. I was obviously hallucinating, alone, and apparently underground. If I wasn¡¯t dead I must have been kidnapped and inserted into some kind of psychological experiment. Or torture. I still wasn¡¯t ruling out this being Hell. No matter how unreal it seemed, however, I had to treat it as real if I was going to survive. Hopefully, I could find someone to explain what was going on. Before that could happen, I needed to find food, water, and shelter. I could hear flowing water coming from somewhere further into the cavern, so I moved in that direction. The faint green glow only allowed me to see a few feet in front of me and I quickly lost all sense of direction. The only guide I had was the faraway sound of rushing water. I also needed to stop ignoring the implications of those floating status screens. If I really did have new abilities, and I certainly felt stronger, then I needed to experiment with them. Besides, who didn¡¯t secretly dream of playing with magic? I felt dumb just thinking it, but I tried it anyway. For science. I held my hand out expectantly and tried to imagine a bolt of arcane energy. I stood there, motionless with one arm held uselessly in front of me. This is dumb, I thought. I wasn¡¯t playing some tabletop where I can throw arcane bolts just by thinking about it. At that same moment a small sphere, a barely visible wisp of blue light, shot from my fingertips. My hand had already started to fall to my side and the projectile struck my thigh. I barely felt the impact, but it burned a hole through my jeans and lines of steam were spiraling up from my leg. The light had done nothing to illuminate the gloom and it seemed nearly worthless as an attack, but ¡­ ¡°Magic! I just did magic.¡± It was hard to contain my excitement as I clenched my fists and held them up by my shoulders as I began dancing around. I couldn¡¯t contain my glee as I launched three more arcane bolts into the waiting darkness. On the fourth, however, a few blue sparks fizzled into a puff of smoke. I tried again but got nothing. I thought, ¡°menu,¡± and my stats were instantly displayed in front of me. I was searching for a ¡®guide¡¯ or descriptions, but the problem instantly became apparent. I only had three mana remaining, I would have to find a way to replenish it before I could use more magic. I had never been much of a ¡®gamer,¡¯ but the concept of mana was ubiquitous enough for even me to instantly grasp. Just then the number ticked up a single point and I experimentally pointed my hand forward and gave the mental command. A thin, wispy line launched forward as I watched my mana drain to zero. I could feel a strange weakness as if some muscle I wasn¡¯t aware I had was completely atrophied. It was a bit like the mental fatigue from trying to study too long, and it carried the same exhaustion and pressure at the back of my head. I rubbed at my eyes, but I knew the only fix was time. A quick run and a nap and I¡¯d be as good as new. Unfortunately, that didn¡¯t seem to be an option. I opened my eyes and saw a small shadow dart in front of me before disappearing into the darkness. Its feet clicked as it skittered across the hard stone floor. I turned as I heard more of the feet circling from behind. I had a glimpse of thick, hairy legs and large black orbs flying towards me. I reflexively cast arcane bolt, but nothing happened. Many limbs, long and powerful, wrapped around. My arms were pinned, so I was forced to watch helplessly as two fangs longer than my thumb sank into my shoulder. A large, reflective orb stared down at me, showing me my own contorted face as I screamed in pain. My chest tightened, and I lost the ability to scream as my body stiffened and convulsed. I could taste copper in my mouth as the metallic smell of blood mixed with the rancid scent of burning flesh. The last thing I remembered was my limbs going numb as I struck the cold, stone floor. Chapter 2: Through Darkness Crept I woke up gasping. My tongue was dry and swollen, and my mouth was full of the taste of rust and bile. The faint traces of a dream were fading as my conscious mind took over and struggled with the reality of where I was. My heart raced, and I tried to scream through a swollen throat. The only sound I produced was a raspy cough. I couldn¡¯t move. I tried to flex my arms and I could feel them respond but something was wrapped tightly around me. It covered almost every inch of my body, I tried to stretch the material, but it had almost no give. I couldn¡¯t even close my fingers. The bindings smelled earthy and pleasant, almost like a new silk shirt. I tried to kick and stretch my arms to tear the bindings. The more I struggled the tighter they seemed to hold me. I finally gave up when the bindings began to constrict my chest and I felt myself getting dizzy from exertion and lack of air. I couldn¡¯t continue like this. I needed to remain calm and look for opportunities. Whatever had bound my body had left my face free, which was an indication that I was being kept alive for something. Probably as leftovers. I tried to relax my nerves by closing my eyes and taking three deep breaths. Finished, I opened them to survey the situation. I could only move my head a few inches in either direction but there was still plenty to see. The darkness was deeper here; only a faint trace of the blue and green bioluminescent remained. Within the darkness moved long, chitinous limbs, only half seen. It was as if the darkness itself moved underneath me, carrying me forward towards whatever awaited me. If I was going to escape this would be the best time to do it. Whatever was carrying me was much larger than my attacker, so there were more than one. I remembered the creature that had run in front of me, distracting me as another attacked from behind. They were pack hunters. It seemed likely there were more of them at the end of this journey. I needed to try to slip away while I still had the element of surprise. It was likely that these creatures believed me paralyzed by whatever venom I had been injected with. They may not be monitoring me closely. My body was useless ¡­ but that wasn¡¯t the only tool I had available. Status, I thought. Information quickly scrolled across a blue, translucent screen that appeared about a foot in front of my face. Congratulations! Venom coursed through your veins paralyzing muscle and liquifying flesh. Your body was racked in pain, but you were unable to scream as your lungs were paralyzed and slowly filled with blood. Capable of extraordinary feats of Reactive Adaptability ?, you have survived. Physical resistances +1, new feat(s) gained: Poison resistance ? 2/10! Reactive Adaptability cooldown ¡­ calculating ¡­. 2 days, 47 minutes, 13 seconds. Readouts also appeared showing a virtual representation of my body highlighting every injury, from bruised ribs to severe dehydration. My stats were displayed as white bars around the human outline that represented myself. The numbers ran from six to ten, perception being the highest and focus being only a pitiful five. I knew my vision and hearing were perfect, so I guessed that ten was a baseline for human ¡®average¡¯ or slightly above. If that was the case, then my own numbers were hardly flattering. I mean, a five in focus? I could focus on something just as well as the next guy, this was bullshit. Right, I had more pressing concerns. Focus, Finn. I looked at ¡°Might,¡± trying to figure out exactly what it measured when a new screen appeared with that exact information. It seemed that whatever was controlling these menus could read my mind. A useful invasion of privacy, considering the circumstances. Might is a measure of the strength and endurance of your physical body. Citizens with more Might can punch harder, jump higher, fight longer, and take more physical damage. As Might improves, your muscle, ligaments, and bone will become stronger and more flexible. You will be able to carry more, do more damage in melee combat, and your speed will be increased in and out of combat. That ¡­ was impressive. With the way I already felt, a few more points into Might and I really might be able to deadlift a pickup and deflect bullets with my chest. A flashing symbol next to each stat reminded me that I had three unallocated points. Would three points be enough for me to break free? I quickly scrolled through each of my stats and carefully studied their descriptions, but nothing stood out to me as a sure solution to my problem. I was just beginning to put all three points into Might, when a thought struck me. If I can¡¯t think of a solution, maybe I can make myself smarter? Intellect is a measure of the power of your mind. Citizens with high Intellect will be able to recall memories longer and with greater precision as well as solve problems with greater speed. They will learn faster and gain skills earlier. As Intellect improves, citizens will also be more resilient against mental attacks, while also improving the power of arcane magics and the amount of mana they can channel.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. It was between mage and brute, then. Did I trust in the power of my body, or the nimbleness of my mind? Neither was a guarantee. My bonds were too strong to even stretch, let alone break. I had little confidence such a small boost to Might would be of help. I had even less faith, however, in my only magical attack. Arcane bolts had been amazingly underwhelming. If I couldn¡¯t break my bonds, then I¡¯d simply need to think of another solution. My mind made up, I stopped hesitating and mentally selected Intellect, putting all three points into it. Congratulations! You have put three points into a single stat before completing the tutorial!! You have unlocked the feat(s) ¨C Able Learner ? Able Learner ? - Having focused on Intellect during the earliest part of your training you find that you are more easily able to pick up new ideas and concepts. Where others struggle to learn new skills, you are adept at it. Decreases the difficulty of learning new skills and increases the rate at which you improve Intellect based skills! My mind instantly felt clearer, but the change was minimal. No genius solution presented itself in a moment of inspiration, nor did I gain cool psionic powers. It seemed I would still have to figure this out by myself. I let out a sigh of disappointment. What was I thinking? This was life or death, not a classroom where I could study every variable and come to the perfect answer. I needed action. I doubted the giant spider demons would agree to a game of riddles. ¡°Don¡¯t panic,¡± I recalled the words of my father, ¡°take stock of your surroundings, inventory your assets, and formulate a plan. The enemy will make a mistake. wait for it and capitalize on it.¡± The memory came unbidden and felt like it had happened only moments before. Was this my own subconscious, or the effects of increasing my stats? It seemed a violation to let something external have access to something as private as the memories of my father. Inventory my assets, but what were they? I was a little more resistant to poison and venom, I had a weak arcane bolt that could barely singe denim. Oh, and I could learn faster ¡­ but that advantage had yet to be seen. With some experimentation, I found that I could blink out Morse code, something I would never have been able to remember without the improved memory brought on by increasing Intellect. I waited and watched. The cocoon I was trapped in seemed to be dangling from a single strand from the base of some truly large abomination. I would sway back and forth as the creature walked, occasionally giving me brief glimpses of it through the darkness. Its legs, each of them black and hairy, moved with quick precision. We seemed to be slowly moving towards an area of greater light, giving me a better view of the legs that moved beneath me. All twelve of them. At the front of the monsters were two legs covered in barbs and ending in long stingers. Behind the monster trailed a long tail, that was segmented and flat. It curved downward and thickened the further it got from the creature¡¯s body. I was also able to get a better view of my bindings. They were white and made of millions of overlapping threads, exactly like the cocoons spiders made around their prey. They seemed sticker than before, and with an experimental flex, I realized that they had become more elastic. Despite the new give, I found the cocoon completely unbreakable. My new power of memory, however, was enough for me to realize that I had not just imagined the inflexibility of the threads when I had first awoken. The silk was becoming stickier and had more stretch. Was it decaying with time? Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s)! Analyze ?- While others fight, you watch and listen. You learn mysteries and secrets unknown to others, secrets obvious to those with the ability to see them. Activated: 1 Mana per second, reveals the background, strengths, and weaknesses of objects and creatures. The new skill seemed useful, just not immediately so. What I really needed was firepower. What was the use of magic without flashy powers like lightning bolt or fireball? When my cocoon swung back around to give me a view of the underside of the creature¡¯s thorax, I activated the new skill. Gwerlum, the Gloomweaver. Arachnid Matriarch. Lvl 24. The name was highlighted in purple, but I couldn¡¯t find a way to determine the significance. The level was enough, however, for me to know that I had no chance at all. This did mean that whatever system was behind these skills could feed me information. This gave me hope that I could find a way to figure out what was going on. Was I even still on Earth? Why had magic and fantasy creatures suddenly become real? My first priority was to survive. Answers could come later. Brute strength was out of the question, but if I could analyze the silk binding me perhaps I could find a weakness to exploit. I looked down at my own chest and activated Analyze, and immediately felt a pull on my mana. Cocoon of the Gloomweaver. This cocoon was spun by Gwerlum. The silk has a tensile strength greater than steel, but it is the elasticity that truly makes it unbreakable. It is vulnerable to fire, slashing, and magic, but cannot be torn without truly prodigious strength. Gwerlum has sprayed this cocoon with her venom, this deteriorates the strength of the silk but helps to digest the prey more quickly and increases the adhesive properties of the silk. This process is unnecessary for common consumption and is only done in preparation for producing an egg sac. It is likely that the prey trapped in this cocoon is intended as food for the spider¡¯s spawn, thereby continuing the unholy lineage of Ungoliant, the Primordial Spider. Great, I was breakfast for a bunch of spider tykes. The same venom meant to digest me might just be what saved me. If I could wait for Big Mama to spray the cocoon with more venom, it may weaken enough for me to escape. In the meantime, I needed to focus on speeding the process up. Over the next few hours, I focused on using my arcane bolts to try to destroy some of the silk around my left hand. My current mana was enough for me to castsix arcane bolts, but it slowly regenerated enough for me to get off an additional bolt everyfive minutes or so. When the spider queen finally stopped I had created a pocket of free space around my left arm and had drilled a hole large enough for a single finger to poke through the cocoon. It was a start, I only had to hope that I had enough time. Additionally, I had gained 3 levels in Arcane Bolt and Analyze, and a single additional level in Poison Resistance. It seemed that the first three levels of each skill were relatively easy to learn, but I was unable to advance any of the skills to their fourth rank. There was not much to analyze during the trip, but there were the occasional rock, mushroom or fungus that caught my attention. What was curious, and potentially helpful, was that it seemed each increase in skill gave me something called FP. A counter was kept on the top left corner of my stats screen calling out for my attention. I mentally selected FP, and I smiled at the results. Chapter 3: A Widow Fled My cocoon stopped swaying and the monstrous limbs that carried me slowly stilled. I didn¡¯t pay it much mind, as Big Momma had stopped several times previously. Her smaller offspring would constantly bring her new prey that she would then envelope in thick globs of silk before dousing them in a viscous green liquid she produced from her mouth. I imagine I had once experienced similar treatment. This time, however, I felt a sense of vertigo and my stomach clenched as it felt like it was being lifted into my throat. I was falling for what seemed minutes but probably only lasted seconds. I felt something cling to my cocoon, my descent slowly ending. For a moment I was still, before I was launched into the air once more. The web didn¡¯t let me fly far, it clung to me as I flew upwards before quickly reversing my velocity. I bounced like that several times, before I came to a stop. My insides felt like a shaken can of soda. The world spun as my scattered senses tried to catch up. I retched into my mouth, but nothing was available in my long empty stomach. My lips were dry, and my head rung as if I was suffering from the after effects of a three-day bender. I could hear ringing in my ears and my chest rose in uneven heaps as I sucked in ragged breaths. I was obviously dehydrated, but I feared my injuries might be more severe. I waited alone in the dark. I don¡¯t know for how long. But I wasn¡¯t truly alone. I would feel small vibrations as invisible creatures scurried across the tight web. Loud screeches and the sound of snipping interrupted my thoughts, my imagination filling in every sort of horror imaginable. I could not look up. My only view was a wide chasm of unknown depth, the shadows clung to the sheer cliff walls until consuming them entirely in a pool of darkness. By craning my neck upwards, I was able to get a view of the cliff wall closest to me. It was roughly a hundred yards in front of me and looked too smooth and steep for me to climb in my current condition. The stone was a deep blue that was unlike any rock formation I had ever seen. The identity of the rock was not an issue, after all I had a skill for that. The real problem was that I couldn¡¯t see the top or the bottom of the cliff, so I had no idea how long such a climb would be. My isolation eventually ended. Gwerlum, The Gloomweaver, also affectionately known to me as Big Momma Spider, was upon me. She grasped my cocoon between her front two legs and began to spin. The spears on the tips of her two forelegs were for spinning web rather than the instrument of murder I had imagined them to be. They were like the world''s largest, and most deadly, crocheting needles. Perhaps Big Momma was a grandma as well? Silk wrapped around my cocoon, though not as tightly as before. She most likely just wanted to make sure I was secured to the web. As a final touch, she left me with a blast of venom to the face. I heard sizzling as my eyes and inner nostrils began to burn. I needed to scream, but I forced the impulse down. Instead I dug my fingernails into my palms and clenched my jaw. I could hear the enamel on my teeth cracking as they ground together, but I was able to resist the urge to cry out. I had no idea if the spider believed me dead, but I knew that drawing extra attention to myself would be dangerous. Congratulations! New skill(s) gained. Pain Tolerance ? (1/10). Calculating ¡­ Poison Resistance ? has improved (4/10). I passed out again and when I awoke there was no sign of Big Momma. Barely noticeable vibrations were a constant reminder that I was never truly alone. I imagined her spawn, just out of sight, watching and biding their time. When I was finally able to calm down and orient myself to the situation, I turned my attention back to my only unspent resource, FP also known as Feat Points. If I didn¡¯t have an active goal to work towards I knew that I would panic and shut down. I could already feel the terror picking away at my sanity bit by bit. FP available (11) 6 Feat(s) available for purchase- Newbie (0/1), Cantrips (0/3), Scholar (0/3), Warrior (0/3), Acrobat (0/3) ¡­ The first five feats seemed useful, if basic. I was starting to learn that this system gave you the illusion of choice but hid the true value of each decision behind a knowledge wall. Those with the advantage of system knowledge would know which feats to pick and how best to allocate their stats, while those of us figuring things out for the first time had to rely on blind luck. I would just have to follow my gut. The lack of descriptions made each choice a gamble. Despite this, the final feat is the one that really caught my eye. Unlike the others it cost 10 FP, which was almost my entire reserve and for the same cost I could afford almost all the other feats combined. Despite that, it was obviously a higher-level feat and likely held synergy with abilities I already had.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. I opened my stats again, and with a slight smile I put ten points into reactive learning. Congratulations! Your Intellect has risen by 2. Congratulations! Your Intellect has risen by 2. The notifications that happened after spending three and then seven points were welcome, but the final notification brought a grin to my face that might have unnerved even Big Mamma had she been there to see it. Reactive Learning ?- Your ability to adapt to your environment was already legendary, by focusing on your mind over the power of the body you have learned to adapt even the skills of your enemies to your own purposes. This can only be used to replicate skills of up to Uncommon ? level, attempting to learn skills above that level will either fail or result in an inferior version of the skill. You must have sufficient time to observe the skill. Having the skill used against you increases the likelihood of learning the skill, as does having a higher Intellect. It seemed the feats I already had would influence the new ones that became available to me. If Reactive Learning worked the way that I hoped, I already had a plan to escape. The only thing that gave me pause was the requirement that the skill be used against me. I wanted to escape, I just wasn¡¯t sure how much more punishment I could survive. Over the next day, I used my arcane bolts to loosen the web around my hands as much as possible and even managed to level the skill once more. Big Mamma came by twice during that time, and each time greeted me with a spray of venom to the face. I could feel the beginnings of a skill based on her venom forming, like a forgotten name on the tip of my tongue. The blasts of flesh blistering venom weren¡¯t enough to improve my poison resistance, but the agony of feeling my flesh burn was sufficient to bring my pain tolerance up twice in quick succession. This brought my FP up to four, and I immediately purchased Newbie and Scholar. Congratulations! You have achieved a new feat(s). Newbie ? - You are a beginning adventurer yet to embark on your first quest! This feat is given for free upon completion of the tutorial but is available for purchase to appease the fools and the stubborn. +1 Stamina, +1 unallocated stat and +1 unallocated stat point on every level. New feats will open as the Newbie advances. Scholar ? - While others trained their bodies you trained your mind. Long nights spent in the library have taught you that knowledge is the key to all power. +1 to Intellect. Increases your reading speed and comprehension by 50%. New feats become available to those who pursue the path of the scholar. Nothing game changing, but still useful. I especially liked the stat gain, and the extra stat per level might be useful down the road. My intellect was starting to look decent, which might help increase the chances of my plan succeeding. I put my extra stat point into Intellect to round it out at eighteen. My thinking became clearer, but I certainly wasn¡¯t twice as smart as before. It was unclear exactly how much stat gains increased my inherent abilities. I was close to having the tools I needed to escape, I just needed the opportunity. It would need to be soon. I hadn¡¯t had any food or water for well over a day. It had probably been longer, as I couldn¡¯t account for the time I had spent unconscious. It might have even been two days, judging from the dryness of my throat, stiff limbs, and intense headache. I used the analyze skill to confirm that the silk was continuing to degrade, but I was unable to make any headway in my attempts to break the cocoon. The silk was beginning to lose shape, it was now more like goo than the thousands of individual silk strands that it had been before. Just a little more, and I would have my chance. I didn¡¯t have to wait long before good ol¡¯ Big Mamma came to hose me down once more. This time something clicked, and I immediately grasped how I could use my mana to produce a similar spray of venom. I didn¡¯t even have to flinch from the pain this time, a combination of my increased pain tolerance and the endorphins of seeing a plan finally coming together. Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s). Venom Spray ? (0/10) Calculating ¡­ Reactive Learning cooldown ¡­ 1 day(s), 4 hour(s), 14 minute(s) She left as quickly as she had come, but I still waited several more minutes before I began experimenting with the new skill. During this time, I reflected on exactly how the learning had taken place. Obviously, the system was using some trickery to put the knowledge into my head. Despite that, there was more to it. The mana that was a part of me now had its own system of rules and if I could learn to manipulate those rules - then my potential would be unlimited. Theoretically, I could develop my own spells and skills, possibly even feats. I could feel the mana now, it was a part of me. With a little concentration I could draw it out, manipulate it. I sensed the beginnings of a skill forming, but I soon lost control of my tenuous grasp on my mana and my grasp on the skill slipped away as well. I would be better served by turning my attention back to the task at hand. I knew how dangerous it was to let your mind wander during moments of crisis. Another lesson drilled into me by my father. Venom Spray worked by shooting a jet of venom from my hands. This would quickly fill up the gaps between the webbing. The spray would burn at my skin and clothes, and I could feel my feet blister as my shoes filled with acidic venom. The webbing, however, also began to show signs of dissolving. White globules of viscous liquid, tinged green by the faint illumination of the cavern, began dripping down from the cocoon like it was a melting candle. The Venom Spray skill had risen by two levels before I was finally able to free myself. I didn¡¯t so much break the silk webbing, it was more like it just sloughed off me. Luckily, my own version of Venom Spray weakened the silk the same way Big Mamma¡¯s had, and I suspected it would be useful in combat as well. As soon as I was free, I ripped the green canvas backpack from my back and began scouring its contents. Textbooks fell into the chasm, but I found my prize. I chugged a warm, stale, and half-empty bottle of Coke followed by a few mouthful of bread and meat from a days old sandwich. It was the greatest meal of my life. Content, I turned back to my task. I only had to climb down the web without falling into the yawning abyss and then climb up a cliff of indeterminate height. All without proper rest, equipment, or water. The sooner I started, the sooner I could fall to my inevitable death. No time like the present. Chapter 4: From Looming Monarch鈥檚 Dread Making my way to the cliff wall was easier than I had imagined. Rather than having to walk down a single tightrope-like strand, the individual threads of the web were close enough together that it was more like walking down a particularly sticky trampoline. The cliff itself was nearly vertical, but it did have a slight outward tilt. The blue stone was rough and covered in sharp protrusions just large enough to wedge fingers between. Climbing wouldn¡¯t be easy, but it was possible. With a sigh I began. I quickly felt the strain in my legs and lower back as I pushed myself up the stone wall. My fingers began to bleed, making my hands slick as they gripped handholds no deeper than my fingertips. Still, I clung down harder and continued my climb upwards. There was no light at the top of the cliff to bolster my courage with the promise of an end. I climbed into empty darkness, void of hope. It was like scaling the inside of a mountain. The journey was long enough that I began to doubt the direction I was moving in, perhaps I was only moving further into the spider¡¯s den. Was down the way out? I leaned my head against the cool stone as I tried to shift the weight between my tired legs and arms. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I could last. System readouts taunted me, showing me that my stamina was dwindling faster than it could replenish. I wasn¡¯t sure what would happen when it ran out. Perhaps I would die, or would I merely faint? Either option would see me plunging into an endless pit. Something cool and wet trickled over my forehead. I looked up and pressed my fingers against the rock. Water. A thin stream flowed down the side of the cliff. Perhaps if I followed it I would find the way out? I collected small sips of water in my open palm and greedily drank them down. It was sweet and felt cool on my swollen throat. That simple comfort gave me hope, but more importantly it restored my stamina enough for me to continue my climb. I may have given up completely, given in to the relentless pull downwards, if it weren¡¯t for that small mercy. With renewed energy, I slowly made my way upwards until I came to a small ledge. It was narrow, but if I pressed my body against the wall and kept low, I would be invisible from below. At the base of the ledge, there was a small cleft in the wall from which proved to be the source of the stream of water I had followed. Below me, I could still see the massive web stretching out into the endless darkness. The cliff wall opposite from me was completely hidden in shadow. The web seemed not to have shrunk at all, as if I had made almost no progress, and yet I knew I had been climbing for hours. It must have been truly massive. I could feel eyes on me. Far below I could hear hissing and clicks, but nothing scurried up the wall after me. Perhaps they hadn¡¯t discovered my escape or believed me lost to the abyss. I knew Big Momma would return, would she notice my escape? My fear was meaningless, I needed rest if I was to continue. Once I stopped climbing, my arms had become weak and sore, refusing to pull me further. The adrenaline drained from my body, and I found myself leaning against the cold stone. Water flowed under my legs and soaked my socks, but I didn¡¯t have the energy to move. I must have slept, because I woke to a small, black pupil staring at me. I jumped in surprise and a small lizard scurried away, disappearing down the cliffside. As it went, I stood up, sending several small pebbles over the ledge. They tumbled down the cliff, each impact seemingly as loud as gongs. I held my breath, but no new horror emerged. Eventually, I let my breath out. If the small lizards could survive here, perhaps I was safe from the spiders. Or perhaps the tiny reptiles simply weren¡¯t enough of a meal to bother with. I held myself as still as possible, while deciding what to do. The small lizards began to return, curiously staring at me with glassy eyes. My stomach rumbled, and I grit my teeth together as I regarded my silent audience. Were they edible? It didn¡¯t matter, I needed to eat something, or I wouldn¡¯t have the energy to continue. Only half my stamina had returned during my sleep, and it stubbornly refused to regenerate further. The lizards were small and brown, with red crested necks. They were also fast and nimble, and scurried over the rock wall like darts. Catching them would be difficult. They kept a distance from me, and I would never be able to climb fast enough to reach them. I doubt I would have even climbed as far as I did without aid from the system. I had gained the climbing skill and leveled it to its second rank during my ascent. Hopefully, it would be enough to get me to the top. The sleep and water had done me good, perhaps with some food I¡¯d be able to continue upwards. Before I did anything else I had to inventory what resources were still available to me. My bag was mostly empty, only containing a single paperback, an empty bottle, and an extra shirt. My main resource was more immaterial. I had four FP, including the two gained during my climb. I could buy another feat, but it was difficult to know which could aid me. Warrior seemed useless to my present situation, but acrobat seemed almost tailor made. There were also new feats available that hadn¡¯t been there before, perhaps either gaining or using my feats had unlocked them.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Novice (0/4), Cantrip Trained (0/3), Warrior (0/3), Autodidact (0/4), Acrobat (0/3), Inspiration (0/25) I read the list carefully, but no new information appeared. Inspiration immediately caught my eye, but I would need to save up quite a few points before it was reasonable to invest in it. Novice and Autodidact were probably improved versions or evolutions of the feats I had bought earlier. That, plus the slight increase in cost, told me they were probably marginally better than the common tiered feats. I was starting to see familiar patterns in how the system worked. There were certainly clues as to which abilities were best, but it was impossible to know without spending my minimal FP. Autodidact sounded useful, and the name suggested it would fit with my intellect-based build, but it was far too expensive to be immediately useful. What I really needed was something that would help me to find food, or at least make climbing easier. I turned back to the lizards. Several were still carefully watching me, unwilling to get too close. I activated analyze and found that they were indeed edible, but were also mildly poisonous. I would have to be careful which parts I ate. I was also willing to gamble that if I was resistant to Big Mamma¡¯s venom, I could take whatever these guys could dish out. I fired off a few experimental Arcane Bolts, but the creatures quickly scattered. Even if I had been able to hit one, I doubt I would have been able to catch it before its corpse tumbled down the cliff. I was more likely to run out of mana than I was to catch anything. I sighed and opened the Feat Store one more time. Without giving myself time to think about it, I choose the option my instincts told me would be the most useful. Congratulations! Your journey began in darkness, but you have begun to see the light! You have earned a new feat(s). Cantrip Trained - You are a neophyte trained in the simplest of arcane magics. Through countless hours of study, you have learned the spells Mage Hand ? (0/10) , Arcane Missile ? (0/10), and Arcane Shield (Minor) ? (0/10). + 4 to mana. All common ? level spells cost one less mana to cast. Spells! My eyes lit up with greed. A single feat had given me three spells, which would make it easier to earn more FP. Investing in Cantrips would quickly pay for itself. My glee subsided as I realized I still had to get out of here alive. Time to look at spell descriptions and see if anything was useful. I fought a smile, but it eventually won out as a toothy grin appeared on my face. I was climbing for my life, hunted by giant spiders and I had no idea where I was. For just a moment, I didn¡¯t care about any of that. I could do actual magic. I cackled quietly to myself, alone save for the darkness and the countless unseen eyes. Now to see what I could do. Anything had to be better than Arcane Bolt. Mage Hand and Arcane Shield seemed to do what it said on the tin, move stuff, and create a shield of mana. Mage Hand could also turn small objects, such as a pebble, into a projectile. Sounded like the perfect tool for lizard hunting. I attempted to use mage hand to capture one of the small lizards, but the spell couldn¡¯t grip the slippery critter. It squirmed and twisted, easily breaking free and disappearing into a shadowy crevice. Out of curiosity, I activated Arcane Shield but quickly dispelled it when a shimmering shield of blue arcane energy formed around my body. If I used the spell I might as well be lighting a bonfire, alerting every creepy crawly around that there was a meal nearby. I was still impressed though; the spell had the potential to save my life if used sparingly. The only spell left unseen was Arcane Missile, which seemed little more than an upgraded Arcane Bolt. Arcane Missile ? - 8 mana. Arcane Missile has been a staple of every wizard¡¯s offense since time immemorial. Every young acolyte has been drilled in its use endlessly, and now you join those ranks. Creates a sphere of arcane energy that unerringly strikes a single target at a range of up to fifty meters per skill level. Creates an additional missile for every three skill levels above the first. Unerringly? Let¡¯s hope the actual effect lived up to the hype. Those lizards were slippery little buggers, but I was already salivating over the thought of roasting them over an open fire. Of course, I still had no way to make fire, and even if I did, it would draw too much attention. Raw reptile sounded like it carried a high risk of food poisoning. Maybe these creatures even carried diseases. Would Venom Spray would make them safe too eat? It seemed like a long shot, but anything was worth trying by that point. ¡°Unerring¡± turned out to mean, ¡°will curve slightly.¡± The process took me several tries, but I quickly hit my target. As it began to fall I reached out with Mage Hand and slowly drew the falling corpse towards my ledge. ¡°Yes,¡± I mumbled through clenched teeth. I¡¯d never been prouder of any accomplishment than I was of killing a harmless, six-inch lizard. The system shared my jubilation by awarding me a skill level in Arcane Missile. It also awarded me something else. Calculating ¡­ Experience Points awarded (1) ¡­ calculating update ¡­ (899) XP until next level. XP? This system really was based on a video game. It was almost enough for me to fall back into contemplation. This couldn¡¯t be real. I shook my head and turned back to my newly gained prize. Eating a raw lizard doused with acidic venom hardly seems pleasant. It wasn¡¯t. The meat was cold and slimy, and I nearly spit it back up several times. I washed it down with a few handfuls of water and began to use the creature¡¯s own bones to pick scales out of my teeth. I must admit, they were at least filling. I decided to catch another of the frilled lizards and fill an empty soda bottle with water, before continuing my climb. My stamina was back to full, and at least for a short time it was regenerating as quickly as I used it. I could keep this pace up for hours, especially if I found another ledge to rest on. I¡¯m not sure how long I climbed for, but I had gained another level in climb and my stamina had reached the point where it was no longer regenerating when I finally found another ledge. The spider web had finally disappeared into the darkness, but I still felt as if arachnid eyes watched me from the shadows. The second ledge seemed to mark a decrease in the steepness of the cliff. I looked up to find that the cliff was sloping outwards and becoming increasingly less steep as it went up. I sighed in relief, that would make the climb increasingly easier after this point. I rested for few hours and ate the second lizard before spending the better part of a day climbing. Eventually, a tiny speck of white light broke through the darkness above me. A single pinprick of hope in a void of darkness. At the same time, an unholy screech ripped through the darkness beneath me. Chapter 5: Exitus The rough stone bit into my palms and my calves burned from exertion. My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I scrambled up the cliff with fading strength. I leaped and pulled, my fingers biting into nearly invisible outcroppings. I didn¡¯t spare a moment to glance down. I pushed away my terror, focusing only on the stone wall. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was real. Far below me, an angry roar was progressively getting louder. The steady tempo of claws shattering rock echoed through the cavern and I could feel a faint vibration when I pressed my palms against the cool rock. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath, before looking up and continuing my climb. I could see light far above me. It was still distant, no more than a faint white glow, but it was growing brighter. It was impossible to know how much further I would have to climb, nor when my pursuer would arrive. The only thing I knew was that I had to climb until I either reached safety or became lunch for something higher up the food chain. After about fifteen minutes, I reached another ledge. I took a minute to rest and drink a few sips of water. My heart was racing, and it refused to slow, no matter how much I concentrated on my breathing. I had covered more ground in the last few minutes than I had during the early hours of my escape. It wouldn¡¯t be enough. The light above me was growing brighter, but I had yet to close even half the distance. I would have to be faster. Below me, the sounds of sharp limbs tearing through rock continued to grow louder. Big Momma needed no rest, her arachnid limbs did not tire and moved with mechanical strength and precision. I pressed myself against the rock to continue my ascent when everything went still. The roars had quieted, and sharp limbs no longer tore through stone. Had she stopped chasing me? I stayed still for several moments and was just feeling relieved when a blood curdling howl cut through the gloom. She was climbing again. This time she was coming faster, and the impacts of her claws on the rough stone were like the booms of attacking cannons. I fled. My arms moved like lighting, no longer taking the time to search for safe handholds. Blood flowed down my fingers,slickening the stone. Still the spider gained on me, the light above growing too slowly. The glow of the bioluminescent lichen bathed everything in pale, shimmering green. It felt like being trapped at the bottom of the sea, the surface visible but unreachable. Far below me, movements were just beginning to become visible through the gloom. The howl drowned out everything else, even the beating of my heart. ¡°This can¡¯t be real, this can¡¯t ¡­¡± Over and over I repeated the mantra. My mind had fled, but my bloodied fingers continued to clasp at stone. I climbed with the reckless abandon of the damned, leaping up the cliff rather than carefully making my up the plentiful handholds or carefully around fissures and ledges. I don¡¯t know how long it was before my hands came down on a flat ledge and I pulled myself into an open cavern. Bright lights blinded me. Artificial, I realized. The bulbs of numerous spotlights were trained on my position. Was I saved? Had this all been some terrible nightmare? A ball of webbing struck my foot, pinning me to the ground. I reacted on instinct and flooded the adhesive substance with a jet of venom from each hand. I was able to roll away, just as a sickle-like claw slammed into the stone, inches from my head. Gwerlum stood over me, staring down with countless shiny black orbs. Her limbs arched backwards, tightening like the string of a bow. She howled as razor tipped limbs launched forward. I spun to the side and activated Arcane Shield but fell to the ground as a string of silk wrapped around my legs. I tried to roll away as I attacked with an unrelenting stream of Arcane Missiles. The creature reared back, covering her sensitive eyes with armored limbs. I attacked until my mana was nearly dry, and I drained it completely with a final, pitiful Arcane Bolt.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it I looked up but found only empty shadow. I heard the monster¡¯s screech growing further away and looked around in confusion. The spider had fled. Hah, that¡¯s what you get! I let out a whoop of triumph, ¡°Take that you piece of ¡­¡± I felt something whizz by my face, drawing a line of blood. I looked around in confusion, only then did I register the sound of gunfire. Behind me,a steady flash of automatic gunfire was visible even against the intense glare of the floodlights. Had the military finally arrived to set things right? I turned back to look at the spider matriarch, hoping to see her demise. She waited at the edge of the cliff, her body mostly hidden in shadow. Thick streams of ichor ran down her limbs, and heavy pools of it gathered on the stone floor. She still howled as bullets tore into her flesh and shattered chitinous armor. She paused her flight to look back at me, many of her eyes now nothing but mush and gore. I could see a promise in the remaining orbs. I had been hers and would be again. She seemed almost to grin as two large pincers on her mouth drew together into a V shape and a curved tail lifted behind her. I gasped, looking down to find a long barb buried in my stomach. Already, I could feel the flesh beginning to blister. My head was growing heavy, and my vision became hazy. I collapsed onto my knees with a scream. I looked up just in time to see a shadow disappear back into the darkness below. Gwerlum had fled, but not before she had taken revenge. I hoped the spiteful bitch died, feasted on by her own brood. I fell forward onto the cold stone. There I found the peace I had been craving. *** ¡°You¡¯re a man now,¡± I heard a familiar baritone. What? Where am I? I turned around to see my father¡¯s face, clean-shaven and strong jawed in a way that I was always envious of. I had inherited my mother¡¯s fair skin, oval face, and softer features. At least I¡¯d gotten my father¡¯s height. A dream? This had happened years ago. ¡°I¡¯m sixteen Dad,¡± I replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been a man in many cultures for years now.¡± I held up a brand-new license to prove it. ¡°Well, not in this one kiddo. Talk to me when you can vote, or drink ¡­ or have kids of your own.¡± He smirked with his trademark half smile, ¡°Well, let¡¯s hold off on that last one.¡± ¡°And what makes you think I haven¡¯t done those things already ... well maybe I haven¡¯t voted.¡± He clapped me on the shoulder and laughed. ¡°You¡¯d break your mothers heart if that were true, but you come to me if you ever have any problems, okay? I know I haven¡¯t been around much, but it¡¯s not because I don¡¯t want to be.¡± ¡°I know, but you know I¡¯m just joking. I¡¯ve had like three beers in my life ¡­ and no need to worry about the other stuff.¡± He looked at me quizzically before continuing. ¡°Look,¡± he said, ¡°I wanted to give you this.¡± He held a shiny pair of keys on a leather cord stamped with the letter ¡°8.¡± I immediately grabbed them, looking towards his old ¡¯68 Chevy pickup. ¡°It¡¯s mine?¡± I asked. I shook in anticipation. I could hardly contain my excitement. It took all I could to hold myself back from sprinting straight to the truck. ¡°I left something else for you in the back. Your grandfather¡¯s old jacket from the war. It¡¯s one of the few things he left behind, I think he¡¯d want you to have it.¡± We walked over the truck together. My father ran a hand along the bed of the truck with a faraway look in his eyes. He¡¯d always loved that truck. It had been a part of his family for longer than I¡¯d been alive. I wish he still were ¡­ I miss you. ¡°Well,¡± my father said. ¡°Care to take the old man for a spin. See what this old beauty¡¯s got?¡± I answered with a grin and leaped into the driver¡¯s seat. I slammed the door as the key slid into the ignition I was immediately greeted with the soft rumble of a well-maintained engine. I ran my left hand around the steering wheel and reached down with my right to put her into gear. ¡°Well, old man,¡± I said, ¡°Are you coming ¡­¡± I heard a soft gasp. I looked out at my father who was clutching his chest, a dribble of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. A mass of writhing black had erupted from his chest and was spraying blood through the open door and into the cab of the truck. No ... this wasn¡¯t right. Dad! The world immediately exploded into movement as the truck, pavement, and even houses began to be drawn upwards. They sky burned with a fiery redness, and thousands of black wings darted between dark clouds. At first, I thought they were birds, but they were too large. As a group of them dived towards the truck I finally saw them for what they were. Monsters. The creatures were made from lumpy, tumorous flesh full of lesions and gaping wounds. Some clutched people in their spindly arms, dropping them from great heights or devouring them with twisted jaws. A group of the abominations had surrounded my father and pulled at his limbs as they fought amongst each other for the biggest morsels. Above it all was a massive eye full of flames and swirling vortexes of black energy. It was watching me, waiting. I could feel a connection to it, like it was trying to tear away at my soul. It sought not to consume me, but to change me. Mold me. It wanted me to see. Open your eyes ¡­ see me. Chapter 6: Debrief I awoke in a white room. The nightmare still lingered on my thoughts. It had felt real. My dreams usually faded into half-remembered mist upon waking, but this was as if my true memories had been altered. That day had been one of my happiest memories. I rubbed at my eyes and tried to sit up and take stock of my new surroundings. Both my arms were restricted with white cloth. I pulled against them but made no progress. I looked around the room for a tool, something with an edge. Wherever I was, it was at least free of giant arachnids. Despite my captivity, this was an obvious improvement. The clinical setting, however, made me slightly warry. I might have been out of the proverbial spider¡¯s nest and into the mad scientist¡¯s laboratory. The walls were white and seemed to be made from ceramic tiles. The material was subtly textured, as if each square tile was made from thousands of tiny, interlocking hexagons. The walls had a polished gloss, amplifying the glare of the powerful florescent lights that hung overhead. My bed seemed no different than any you would find in a hospital. A tube connected me to an IV and countless cables ran from my arms and chest to various monitors that beeped and displayed readings in an unknown language. ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡± The voice was synthetic and monotone, more like a computer assistant than a person. A man, or at least it was similar to a man, was standing in an open door. Several more of the creatures stood on the other side of a glass window that had been reinforced with a grid of metal wires. They were giants, almost all of them at least eight feet tall. The speaker was the shortest, perhaps not even breaking seven feet. The speaker looked at me and turned its head from side to side. Its pupils were slit, like a cat¡¯s, with yellow irises. It wore a solid-red jumpsuit, with a golden eagle above three chevrons on each shoulder. Black plates, made from the same glossy material as the walls, armored the creature¡¯s arms and chest. The short sword on the its belt seemed at odds with the massive rifle strapped to its back. The most striking feature, however, was the creature¡¯s skin. It was a deep crimson, only slightly darker than his uniform. The silent watchers standing behind the glass had skin in various shades of brown, red, and green. Their faces were covered in small raised bumps that gave it a thick, stony appearance. If these guys had invaded earth, then I didn¡¯t think we had a chance. ¡°Forgive the translator,¡± said the alien in the red uniform. ¡°I have not yet had the time to assimilate to the native languages. I understand that this planet has many cultures and dialects, diverse as they are beautiful. I am fascinated. I am afraid, however, that I will not have the time to appreciate them until our mission is accomplished.¡± He reached out his hand and cut the cloth straps with a single, clawed finger. ¡°I am sorry for the restraints, as well. Your doctors feared you might hurt yourself. I am told you were quite animated in your sleep. My medics informed me that you were given sedatives, so please be careful as you get up.¡± I messaged my arms and looked up at my captor. Rescuer? He smiled with a mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth. ¡°Who are you,¡± I asked. ¡°What is this place?¡± As I spoke I could see the creature¡¯s eyes track from right to left. It seemed to be reading from an invisible display. ¡°My full name is Sebbit¡¯Task Orvilio Xern, Vanguard of the Hegemony, Captain of Her Majesty¡¯s Peacekeepers. I have been tasked with the containment of eldritch lifeforms in this zone. My secondary mission is the assimilation of the native population into the Hegemony and its related systems.¡± He stopped and gave me a stern look, eyebrows lowered and making direct eye contact. ¡°My soldiers call me Captain Xern, or Sir. You may call Sebbit.¡± The alien smiled and held out his hand in a surprisingly human gesture, ¡°May I know you as well?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Uh ¡­ Sure,¡± I replied. I shook the offered hand, his palm was massive, and his fingers were nearly twice as long as mine and ended in sharp, curved talons. He smiled and held my hand for longer than I was comfortable with. The creature terrified me, and despite no longer being bound I was still surrounded by what could only be described as alien soldiers. Invading alien soldiers. I would have preferred little green men, or even spiders. Well ¡­ maybe not spiders. ¡°My name is Augustus Finn,¡± I said, ¡°but please just call me Finn. And, uh, well I seem to be between galactic conquests.¡± He heard my reply and simply nodded, denying my attempt to probe his intentions. ¡°A pleasure, to be sure, Mr. Finn.¡± Even through the artificial voice, he came across as overly proper and by the book. ¡°Now, if I could address my reason for speaking with you today.¡± He paused and looked at me, making sure he had my attention before continuing. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Can you please just tell me what happened? Where am I? I thought I was dead. Did you guys save me from that spider thing?¡± My words stumbled over each other until my questions were a jumbled word salad. ¡°We saved you, Mr. Finn. My soldiers were tasked with containing creatures leaking from the recently created containment center, or dungeons as the adventurers like to call them. We ¡ª¡± ¡°Wait,¡± I interrupted. ¡°That was a dungeon? As in monsters and levels and all that?¡± ¡°Like I said, Mr. Finn, it was a containment center. I do not want to repeat myself so please listen. The worst of the threats are quarantined from the general population and placed in these areas for processing. Any more question?¡± ¡°Um ¡­ no?¡± ¡°Very well,¡± he nodded. ¡°The reports I read indicate that one of the quarantined creatures, a high level one I might add, chased you right into our arms. You should consider yourself a lucky man.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± I added. ¡°I was trying to escape, but she caught me. She impaled me. I thought I was dead, so please give my thanks to your men.¡± ¡°Women,¡± Sebbit said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You said ¡®men.¡¯ Over seventy percent of my command is women, Mr. Finn. Males of my species rarely serve in combat duties. We tend to be smaller, and more suited to administrative tasks. Like interrogating natives, for instance.¡± ¡°Well, sure,¡± I said, ¡°please thank the ladies ... uh, soldiers? Anyone who saved me. I really do appreciate it.¡± I felt his distaste as he looked down at me. ¡°We will leave the subject of nobility open for now. It is best that we get back to the debriefing.¡± ¡°I need to know how you appeared where you did, Mr. Finn. You shouldn¡¯t have been able to enter the dungeon at all, let alone enter such an advanced area. Not at all, and certainly not at your ¡­ level.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not really sure,¡± I shrugged. ¡°I just kinda woke up there. I was really hoping you could fill me in.¡± We spent the next several hours going everything that had happened since I woke up underground. And then ¡­ we went over it once more, in excruciating detail. Sebbit would occasionally ask questions to clarify some point, but he mostly just let me speak. He never took any notes, but I imagine it would have been easy for him to record the entire conversation if he needed to. ¡°Wait,¡± I said, ¡°we¡¯ve been at this for hours. I need to get up, move, you know?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± the alien nodded his head, ¡°I will have an escort prepared for you, very few areas will be restricted but you cannot leave the encampment. It¡¯s not safe.¡± ¡°Sure, just more thing ¡­ can you tell me how long I was out for?¡± ¡°Well, Mr. Finn, if you mean unconscious, then you were under my care for nearly forty-six hours. It has been five days since the Initialization, the events that led up to our being here.¡± ¡°Five days ¡­ shit. I need to leave, I ¡­¡± ¡°There is a group of humans within a day¡¯s march, and you will be allowed to leave. Before we discuss that, there is one thing I must know. Your story seems ¡­ odd, but you have been honest with me so far. Please continue to be candid.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± I said. ¡°Mr. Finn. I must know, did you look into the eye? Has it spoken to you?¡± ¡°Wha ¡­,¡± I said. ¡°You mean with the spider? I mean sure, she had enough of them.¡± ¡°No, that is not what I meant.¡± He sighed and sat down on the hospital bed, ¡°This creature spawns madness in everything it touches, Mr. Finn. Do you understand?¡± ¡°You mean ¡­¡± I paused. ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean.¡± ¡°I thought you might,¡± Sebbit nodded. ¡°That creature was an Old One, a truly ancient being known as Kyr¡¯Teleth, the Crimson Hunter of the Void. He sometimes devours entire planets and ¡­ sometimes he does not. Always, he leaves behind destruction.¡± Sebbit reached out and grasped my shoulder, before continuing, ¡°He takes on many forms, but the most common is an all-seeing eye burning in the sky. Most importantly, strange things tend to happen to those whom survive his gaze. He infects minds. Consumes them. Making eye contact is especially dangerous.¡± ¡°Is Cthulhu out there, too?¡± I asked in disbelief. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t joke about these things, Mr. Finn. There are many great evils and Old Ones roaming the universe. Universes. But please answer the question, Mr. Finn. Did you make eye contact?¡± I met Sebbit¡¯s eyes, mere inches from my own. He watched me with an unblinking gaze, waiting for my answer. ¡°No,¡± I said. Chapter 7: Mind and Body I was knocked off my feet by a staff strike to the chest. The ¡°staff¡± could have easily passed for a pillar. When I tried to lift it, I was barely able to get it off the rack, and my fingers barely wrapped around half its width. Even with my arcane shield, I would have been bloody mush if the female officer hadn¡¯t been holding back. ¡°Again,¡± Sergeant Talith said. I groaned as I stood, ¡°You could have given me some warning that time.¡± ¡°A true warrior,¡± she growled, ¡°is always alert. If you want warnings, then you should hide with the other men behind your books and ledgers.¡± She struck at me once more, and I hit the ground with a thud. I gasped as the wind was driven from my lungs. The red skinned alien stood over me, and I couldn¡¯t help noting a look of satisfaction on her face. The giant Peacekeeper had been assigned to train me during my stay. No one would answer when I asked how long that stay would be. I suspected the training was just an excuse for them to keep an eye on me. Sergeant Talith was the same race as Sebbit, and he wasn¡¯t kidding when he said that the females of his species were larger. The best word to describe her was spindly. She was tall and lithe, easily topping eight feet. This gave her an incredible reach and flexibility and the narrowness of her limbs in no way impacted her strength. My aching chest confirmed her prowess. My analyze skill didn''t work against peacekeepers, so I was unable to get a feel for how strong the sergeant was - only that she vastly outclassed me. Not used to waiting, Talith reached down and dragged me to my feet by the collar of my loaner uniform. ¡°Again,¡± she said. I was fed up with her bullying. I was tired, and hungry. Not a good combination for my mood. I kicked up a cloud of dust and began my attack. I aimed my staff at her chest, expecting her parry. She blocked my attack, reversing her parry into a massive horizontal swing. I rolled, activating my arcane shield as I went. I was launched into a concrete wall, a cloud of grey dust falling over me. The single hit had eaten away half of my mana, but it had also removed me from her striking range. ¡°Venom Spray,¡± I mentally commanded. A thin spray of viscous green liquid shot from my outstretched hand, but Talith was easily able to block most of the venom by spinning her massive staff. Small droplets fell onto her uniform, but the material showed no signs of succumbing to the venom¡¯s corrosive effects. While her vision was blocked, I cast arcane missile twice in rapid succession. I had leveled the skill to its third level, gaining a second missile per cast. Talith was able to deflect most of the missiles, which again failed to live up to the promise of be ¡®unerring.¡¯ One of the spheres, however, was able to strike the giantess in the midsection. My face twisted into a satisfied grin as I heard a small grunt of pain. I immediately regretted feeling smug when she pulled out a small revolver and shot me twice in the chest. I fell into the dirt and felt a staff pressed against my throat. I felt at my chest but was relieved to find no blood. The Peacekeeper jumpsuits seemed nearly indestructible, but I knew it would do nothing to stop my ribs from bruising. ¡°Good,¡± Talith said ¡°You are beginning to understand.¡± ¡°Understand what? You fucking shot me!¡± ¡°Roles, Mr. Finn,¡± She said. ¡°You are beginning to understand roles. You use magic, I use the tools of a soldier.¡± She walked across the arena and placed her staff into a display rack, before continuing. ¡°Do you know why most citizens of the Hegemony never receive a class, despite the fact that it gives a massive increase in power and is available to all?¡± ¡°Laziness?¡± I quipped. ¡°Long lines at the DMV?¡± ¡°It is not ¡®laziness¡¯ or lack of desire. No, most citizens never receive a class because it is binding, restricting. You are a mage, yes?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for me to respond. ¡°A mage, spellcasters of all stripes, are weak. The most powerful mage in the Hegemony could not survive a single minute in combat with me without resorting to spells. Do you know why that is?¡± ¡°Specialization,¡± I immediately said, slowly rising to my feet. ¡°If a mage spends the time,¡± I continued, ¡°to improve their magic to such a high level they must have neglected training in other areas. Someone who had trained exclusively in hand-to-hand combat, a red skinned devil masquerading as a soldier for instance, would dominate the mage, but only if the mage was restricted to only using hand-to-hand combat.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Good,¡± my she said. ¡°But it is not just this, many disciplines exist, and many mages also practice martial paths. It is the class, and the system supported by the Hegemony. ¡°The class defines us, makes us more of what we are and a little less of everything else. Theoretically, I can still learn magic or the sword, but my class focuses on the use of a staff, specifically to defend. Any skills related to the concept encapsulated by a class will level faster, the more specific the concept behind the class the more powerful this effect is. ¡°I even have trouble learning mundane tasks. I am not a cook, so my being cries out at any attempt to become one. I can only be one thing, and the better I am at being what I am the more powerful I will become. ¡°Specialization will make you powerful. You must find one thing, and do it well, better than anyone else. A class will start you on that path, but you must hold the desire inside of you. You must become a mage, in your heart. Or a spearman, a vanguard, defender, or any of a million classes.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t there classes that specialize in being jacks of all trades, so to speak?¡± I asked. ¡°There are, yes Mr. Finn. Adventurers, Factotum, and a myriad of others. They are popular, but none could stand before the pureness of my staff-skills. "Even the monsters that ravage your world, the Old Ones and Elder Gods, great evils infecting our universe? They encapsulate a concept, they become it. That is what it means to be a god, Mr. Finn. A god is the very essence of a single concept, made incarnate. As long as the concept exists they cannot be truly killed.¡± ¡°And Kyr ...,¡± I began. ¡°Er, Crimson Hunter of the Void? What is he?¡± ¡°Madness, Mr. Finn. Madness made incarnate, he doesn¡¯t only consume minds he twists them and takes great pleasure in manipulating others. In some ways he is one of the most dangerous of all the Old Ones. Many are more powerful, but none as insidious.¡± We waited in silence for several seconds, before Talith grabbed her staff and rushed forward. I looked up at the afternoon sky, for a moment I thought I saw stars. ¡°Again.¡± *** Hours later I was laying on a cot in the small Spartan room the Peacekeepers had given me. Next to the bed was a small desk and a stool with no back. I had a small recess in the wall that could be opened or closed with a sliding panel, this is where I kept the clothes and boots I had been given. Also tucked in the cubby was a short, collapsible staff in a black leather sheath, a gift from Talith. These items, and my brown leather jacket, were currently my only possessions. Despite her caution to focus on a single ¡®role,¡¯ Talith had given me a well-rounded course in martial weaponry. She insisted I learn all the basic weapons and then focus on the one that suited my style best, something she said would benefit even a ¡®mage¡¯ like myself. She ignored my protests at the title. We had been training for roughly a week before she declared our training over. I wasn¡¯t ¡°fit to lick the boots of a proper Peacekeeper recruit¡± but at least I might not die immediately to a low-level monster. Apparently, that was her benchmark for success. As we ended our final session the old sergeant grinned and warned me that I might have a ¡°new teacher.¡± The thought seemed to give her great pleasure, and she continued to smile as she watched me leave the small training arena. Despite Talith¡¯s criticism, I had a feeling that I was learning skills much more quickly than I should have been. This was possibly due to my high intellect stat combined with the Adaptive Learning feat. I could improve my skills simply by watching others fight, especially when those skills were used on me. Generally, in a painful and violent manner. My gains had been significant, and I had leveled skills much more quickly than I would have without training. I had been trained in all the standard weaponry of the Peacekeepers, the rifle, sword, and staff; raising feats for each to the third level. My Arcane Shield skill increased to its third rank, and arcane missile, and venom spray were each at the third rank as well. This gave me a solid nineteen FP, but I had held out on spending them. I had gained access to a few new feats in the feat store, such as the Swordsman or Staff Defense feat. Each focusing on a particular style of combat. None of these drew my eye, however. I had decided to save my FP until I could purchase Inspiration in one swoop. The lack of a description continued to be an annoyance, but the inflated cost gave me hope for the feat¡¯s usefulness. So far, the feats seemed to exist on a tier list, with higher tier feats costing more to unlock. At least, I hoped. Nothing gambled, nothing gained. While I was wondering how I might gain the remaining FP, I decided to go all in. I¡¯d spend the points I had now and hope for the best. They were useless just sitting there. I wasn¡¯t expecting any notifications, so I was overjoyed when a status screen appeared after I¡¯d placed fifteen points into Inspiration. Congratulations! The inspiration you seek still lies outside your grasp. Despite this failure, the journey of discovery has not been in vain. The fleeting glimpses of inspiration you have grasped have opened your mind to the connection between mind and body. +4 Intellect. New feat(s) learned ¨C Mind Over Body ?. Mind Over Body ? - You have ignored the advancement of the body, focusing on pursuits of the mind. Despite this you have not shied away from battle. During a rare moment of inspiration, you understood that the body is only as strong as the mind that controls it. Physical limits can be broken, if the mind is strong enough. 10% of Intellect will be added to Might. This¡­ this was exactly what I needed. I could follow Talith¡¯s advice to ¡®specialize¡¯ without leaving myself physically weak. I would never be a tank, but perhaps a glass cannon made from slightly less fragile glass? I mentally opened my ¡®stats¡¯ feeling a warm glow as I examined them. Augustus Finn Class: N/A Level: 1 Stamina (r/ per second): 21/21 (0.175) Mana (r/ per minute): 49/49 (1.633) Might: 10 Agility: 6 Reaction: 6 Intellect: 22 Perception: 10 Focus: 5 Phys. Resist: 2 Mag. Resist: 1 My list of skills and feats was also starting to look rather robust. I wondered how I would fare against most level ones? Surely this bumped me up at least a level or two in the ratings. I wouldn¡¯t know, however, until I had experienced the benefits of a class for myself. I immediately cast away any feelings of superiority. This felt powerful, but how would it really compare to those individuals brought up in the Hegemony and given the benefit of generations of meta-knowledge? I drifted to sleep, properly abashed, but still with a smile on my face. Chapter 8: Chains ¡°Humans?¡± Sebbit asked ¡°For the most part, human society has been untouched. I wouldn¡¯t worry.¡± I stood in Sebbit¡¯s office, a small room furnished only with a metal desk and a wide, backless chair. He sat facing me, occasionally looking down at a tablet-like device, or getting the far-away look I had learned meant he was reading something on an invisible display. Despite these distractions, the Captain¡¯s concentration never lapsed during our conversations. He had displayed an extraordinary ability to multitask. I briefly reflected on the fact that I could never know if such a talent was innate, or the result of a Skill. Was there even a distinction anymore? ¡°Untouched?¡± I said, raising a single eyebrow. ¡°Well, relatively,¡± he shrugged, ¡°any transmission capable of leaving the planet has been disabled, how do you think you were discovered, to begin with? Your species might as well have been broadcasting your location to every merc, pirate, and eldritch abomination in the galaxy.¡± ¡°So, what¡­,¡± I said. ¡°No radio, no Wi-Fi?¡± I thought our species might be doomed. ¡°The results will be minimal and short-lived. I imagine within ¡­ ten to twenty years you will have largely regained your former level of technology. There will be some exceptions, your satellite communication system will have to be scrapped, for instance.¡± ¡°Wait ¡­ that¡¯s kind of a big deal.¡± The captain dismissed my objections with a wave of his hand, ¡°there is also the mater of the quarantine zones, like this one for instance. ¡°Including the fifty-kilometer radius around our current location, there are fifty-seven quarantine zones spread throughout this planet. Each zone contains an unusually high level of eldritch energy. That energy is then contained and harvested to strengthen the system.¡± ¡°You¡¯re farming the stuff that destroyed my world?¡± ¡°Nothing ¡­ so extreme, but you are not entirely inaccurate. Energy, Mr. Finn, cannot be destroyed nor permanently contained, but we can harvest it. Change it to suit our purposes. Trust me when I say that the alternatives are much worse.¡± He hesitated for a moment, making eye contact. It was a thing I noticed his species rarely did, and yet he was making a point to communicate in a way he believed would be more comfortable for me. ¡°There may be ... mutations. Evolutions, degradation in some cases. These will be rare, however. In your case, it is the mental and long-term effects that we are concerned with. The very things that are hardest for us to identify, often until it is too late.¡± ¡°And outside these containment zones, everything is what?¡± I asked. ¡°All hunky-dory? No monsters, or planet eating abominations?¡± ¡°Well, no. The energy is too widespread to be completely contained. There will be mutations of local flora and fauna, as well as dimensional ... breaches. These are harder to contain, and quite frankly, it is a challenge best left to the natives ¡°It will help them, you, to grow. It is best if Earth can defend itself. The Peacekeepers will not be here permanently, Mr. Finn.¡± ¡°How many are dead?¡± I asked. He placed his hands behind his head, leaning back as he exhaled through pointed teeth. He leaned forward, fiddling with something on an invisible display before continuing. ¡°Worldwide? I¡¯m not sure,¡± he said. ¡°Roughly ten percent of the population was likely to be deceased within forty-eight hours of the initial event. This is an average, and numbers will be much higher within the quarantine zones. In some cases, the entire population of said zones could be wiped out in a matter of days.¡± ¡°Entire Zones? You mean like this one?¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°I lead one of the twenty-seven Peacekeeper detachments on this world,¡± Sebbit stood from his desk, towering over me. ¡°It is our job to make sure that does not happen.¡± ¡°Everyone I know could be dead,¡± I yelled. ¡°I need to get out there and look for them.¡± ¡°I still can¡¯t let you do that, Mr. Finn. We are still investigating your odd ¡­ circumstances. Besides, this zone has quickly progressed beyond your current ability to traverse.¡± I felt cold. My arms tingled, and my stomach felt heavy. I could feel myself begin to shake as my breathing grew heavy. I took three deep breaths, clenching and unclenching my fingers, before looking back up towards the captain. He stood there, arms crossed, staring at me. I wanted to hit him, throw things. Kick and scream like a toddler. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how many were dead. People I knew. Was my family okay? My mother? Troy and Liv? The hundreds of millions dead worldwide may have been the greater tragedy, but a number that large only made me feel numb. It was an abstraction, something that I could never truly comprehend. I gritted my teeth and didn¡¯t allow my emotions to control me. I would grieve later, once I had found those I cared for. Once we were all safe. Once I had witnessed the destruction for myself. Once ¡­ I really didn¡¯t know anymore. ¡°I still want to go,¡± I said. ¡°I have friends out there, family. This might be a quarantine zone to you, it might just be a casualty report for you to send up the chain ¨C but to me, it¡¯s my home.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± he said, ¡°But I still cannot let you go.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡ª¡± ¡°Please, Mr. Finn, let me continue,¡± he said, raising his voice for the first time. ¡°I cannot let you go today, arrangements need to be made. I will provide a scout to guide you to the nearest settlement, and in return, you will aid her attempt to establish friendly relations with the natives. Just know that I do not recommend this course of action.¡± He held out a clawed finger to stop my interruption, ¡°Let me finish. I understand Talith has arranged for you to spend some time with Archmage Armeria. That offer is not easily made, and many among my species have competed for the opportunity. You may go your whole life without a similar offer.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I sighed, my head dropping. ¡°I appreciate the offer, but I still need to try. I want to go.¡± ¡°I will make the arrangements then,¡± he said as we shook hands. ¡°Oh, and Mr. Finn. Good luck, you are going to need it.¡± I left the small, modular building that acted as the Peacekeeper headquarters and began making my way towards the barracks. It was still early, and I needed to grab my staff if I was going to get in some training. Who knew what kind of dangers I would face in the outside world? As I walked, I watched the Peacekeeper patrols. The gigantic alien soldiers seemed fearless, but occasionally I would catch them looking over their shoulders into the darkness that lied beyond the artificial lighting of the perimeter. They talked amongst themselves in hushed tones. As they spoke I could see them exchange fretful glances as they looked beyond the temporary walls. Something had them spooked. My mood grew darker as I approached the barracks. What exactly was happening to my world? I wanted to do something, and yet I felt powerless. Did I now live in a world where I needed to call in the marines just to crush a bug? ¡°Ah, then you must be Finn,¡± I looked up as I heard a breathy voice. There was a tall Peacekeeper waiting outside the entrance to the barracks. Her golden skin, and the faint traces of scales along her jaw made her the most stunning Peacekeeper I had seen. She didn¡¯t wear the traditional skintight jumpsuit, but instead a flowing red robe that left her arms bare save for silver cords that wrapped around her wrists. A silver chain was wrapped tightly around her waist and stomach, like a corset. ¡°Did you know,¡± she said, ¡°that men have left their lovers. Women have abandoned children and spent months in the rain and sun, just for the chance to train with me. I have turned down a Queen¡¯s ransom rather than train the sniveling brats paraded in front of me. I am Archmage Telvius Armeria!¡± ¡°I¡¯m Finn,¡± I waved halfheartedly. A long chain made from thin, delicate links unraveled from her wrist. It shot forward, wrapping around my legs. She pulled it towards her, causing me to fall onto the hard stone of the cavern floor. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to insult you!¡± I wailed. ¡°Know this,¡± long, thin pupils surrounded by gold and flecks of green gazed down into my eyes. ¡°You will never have this chance again, but I respect your reasons. Just say yes, and I will forgive your foolishness and take you as my apprentice.¡± The chain unraveled from my legs, withdrawing into a perfect coil floating above the archmage¡¯s palm. She loomed over me, waiting with an unreadable expression. ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± I shook my head. ¡°I am thankful for the offer, but there are too many people I care about out there. I have to find them.¡± She remained still, her golden scales glittering in the pale artificial light. She seemed like a statue, some long-forgotten goddess immortalized in gold and stone. ¡°Good,¡± she harrumphed. ¡°Take this.¡± As she turned to walk away, the silver chain flew out of her hand and wrapped around my forearm. ¡°What is this,¡± I yelled after her. ¡°A gift,¡± as she turned back I saw a smile in the corners of her mouth. ¡°Think of me when you use it.¡± I tried to pull at the chain, but it was unbreakable and had been bound too tightly to remove. It seemed almost alive, resisting my efforts to slide it up my arm. I couldn¡¯t find any ends. The chain had closed into a single, continuous loop. ¡°Well, this is great.¡± Chapter 9: Daybreak ¡°You¡¯re my escort?¡± I asked. The Peacekeeper shook her head in the affirmative and turned away. She appeared to be scanning the perimeter, but she may have just been ignoring me. In front of her, the cavern floor slopped upwards into empty darkness. I watched her silently, waiting for her to speak. She was sapphire colored, and her face and hands were covered in tiny scales. Each scale sparkled like azure opals that had been lightly dusted over smooth, cobalt skin. Her hair was short, her spiky blue tips only barley touching her ears. She wore the same armor-plated jumpsuit as the rest of the peacekeepers, but both the suit and plates were solid black and bore no identifying marks. The armor was also much more minimalist and lightweight than that worn by Sebbit or Talith. On her back, the scout had slung a folded rifle, and she carried a collapsible baton on her belt. She was beautiful, but in an abstract way that completely failed to inspire any physical attraction from me. I was dressed similarly, but my suit was grey. It clung to me to tightly, embarrassingly tight, so I had opted to wear a pair of jeans and my grandfather¡¯s jacket over the jumpsuit. I had considered foregoing the skintight suit altogether, but my spars with Talith had convinced me of its durability and protection. I carried the collapsed staff from a loop on my belt. On my back, I hauled a large bag full of provisions and camping supplies. They were heavy and bulky, uncomfortable to carry even if the load was surprisingly light. I couldn¡¯t help but notice the scout wasn¡¯t carrying any of the supplies. I also looked at her rifle with a bit of envy. I had begged Sebbit for one, but was only met with, ¡®Natives are prohibited from possessing Hegemony technology of the third tier or above with¡­ blah, blah.¡¯ No gun for me. ¡°We¡¯ll move fast,¡± the scout suddenly said. ¡°We can reach the exit to the cave in less than¡­ about forty-three minutes in your time.¡± She spoke in perfect English, slightly stilted but the pauses between words were nearly imperceptible. She was the first of her species I¡¯d heard speak without the translator. Her voice was strange, but not unpleasant. Less human, though why I expected different I¡¯ll never know. Too much science fiction growing up. Her speech was deep and husky, each word had a slight echo that created a buzzing harmony. I suspected that her species have more than one set of vocal cords. ¡°After that,¡± she continued, ¡°we¡¯ll proceed to the river. The natives have set up a defensive barrier around the bridge. You won¡¯t like what you find.¡± ¡°Why, what will I find?¡± I asked. ¡°Disappointment, beyond that I do not care.¡± Ignoring her apathy, I asked, ¡°How far to the river?¡± ¡°After we have exited the cave, we will proceed west for approximately two hours and thirteen minutes, at my pace.¡± ¡°Approximately?¡± I asked. ¡°Yes.¡± And she was moving. Fast. I wouldn¡¯t have been able to keep up without my recent increase to might. It was surprising how much physical strength affected speed. Even if my legs didn¡¯t move faster, I was carried further with each stride. The longer we ran, the greater my anticipation grew. Each step seemed to bring me that much closer to seeing my family again. A smile grew on my face as a thin streak of dust-spotted light cut through the gloomy cave. A few more minutes and I would see the sun for the first time in nearly two weeks. I had struggled to keep up with the scout at first, but once I got into the rhythm it wasn¡¯t too bad. Her speed was faster than a jog, but it wasn¡¯t a full out sprint either. I suspected she could have quickly left me behind, but she was constantly stopping to scan the surroundings. She would slow down when we approached a turn or obstruction. It wasn¡¯t consistent, however, and occasionally she would simply walk by an obstruction almost exactly like one that had made her stop earlier. At one point, she spent almost a full minute watching a pile of boulders before we continued. Shortly after she inspected a patch of harmless looking mushrooms, I saw the first traces of daylight. She stopped me once more. This time she peered upwards at towering stalactites that hung from the ceiling like thousands of waiting fangs. Analyze, I thought. These stalactites, often called Wailing Teeth, were formed over hundreds, or even thousands, of years as liquified mana trickling through cracks in the roof of the dungeon. Small, crystalized deposits are left behind forming the cone shape. Danger: Mana Beetles often colonize these formations. These insects have nearly indestructible shells formed while consuming the crystallized mana in order create the tunnels that make up their colony. They are known to swarm and devour spelunkers who get to close. Hundreds of years ¡­ how was that even possible? I looked over at the scout, but she gave no indication that there was any danger. In fact, she looked almost bored. Her eyes never lost focus, however, until she raised her arm and began running. I huffed as I tried to keep up with her. We had passed the final bend in the tunnel when warm, white light flooded the cavern. It chased away the darkness and lifted my mood. I blinked, pausing to let warm light wash over my face. It was more than just comforting. The light was an affirmation. I had finally made it; I was finally free of whatever monsters hid in the dark. I had to get out of here. In my excitement, I began to run. For the first time, I pulled ahead of the scout, but she threw out her arm blocking my path.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Quiet,¡± she hissed. The scout crouched down and waved with her hand, motioning me to do the same. With the other hand, she covered her lips with a single finger. It seemed a very human gesture. Perhaps the need to tell someone else to shut up was a universal constant. I crouched down beside her and watched the cave entrance. I couldn¡¯t see anything, but after a few moments, I began to hear a rhythmic thumping sound. It was low but getting louder. Something was moving towards the cave. I could feel my heart racing. My hands began to shake from the adrenaline. When Big Momma Spider captured me, I was fighting for my life at every moment. The fact that I didn¡¯t panic was a miracle. Waiting for the unknown, however, was somehow much more terrifying. I froze, and my hands became sweaty. All I could feel or hear was my heart pumping, its rhythmic staccato drowning out all else. The beating of my heart seemed to come from outside of me as if the cave walls had come alive. I yelled and dove to the ground as a cloud of mastiff sized bats came rushing into the tunnel. My reaction was slow and clumsy, and I might have been carried away had the scout not pushed me out of the way. She sent me tumbling headfirst into the cave wall, but other than my pride, I was unharmed. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said between gasps. She just stood and continued running. As we exited the cave I looked out over the landscape. We were at the top of a hill. Behind us loomed colossal granite cliffs that tore at the sky. Below us was a valley full of half crumbled buildings. I could see them peaking above the mist as if they were floating in the thick morning fog. Somehow, the flat South Carolina landscape had been replaced with rolling hills lined with mist and ancient building. A tall mountain cast its shadow over valleys, where previously the tallest point had been a church steeple. This was not my home. Some nightmare had risen in its place. I stopped running, looking up at birds the size of sedans. Their plumage was bright, long orange crests ran down their necks and their wings were a shimmering pattern of blue and red. They circled a forest of tall trees that blocked the horizon to the north and west. Thick green vines snaked through the undergrowth, constricting, and cutting into the ancient wood. Green berries and spade-shaped leaves grew along the lengths of the creepers. Gone were the familiar animals. No squirrels scampered around the trees. No gulls cawed, or dogs barked. Nor did I see any humans. Thousands had once lived among these ruined houses. The world was now inhospitable to them. It was a new world. Still, I could see traces of the world I knew. As we continued into the mist, I recognized an old strip mall with a Sub Shop and an ice cream parlor. This is where I had my first date, I thought. I had been here, I knew this place. Even if everything else was gone, this was still home. It was hidden, broken, but traces could still be found. I would have to collect the remnants and hope they could be re-forged. I followed in silent contemplation. The scout slowly led us west, through the newly grown primordial forest. Above us was a canopy of green hundreds of feet high. I had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. It shamed the domes and stained-glass windows of the churches I had been dragged to as a child. My guide would frequently stop, motioning me down with a single hand held out at chest height. I was never sure what prompted these stops, as they seemed to have no pattern. She would merely stop, look concerned for a few minutes, and then wave me forwards without ever saying a single word. I tried to anticipate her, tried to guess what would cause my guide to call a halt. We had passed many places that I believed good ambush spots, such as empty gas stations, particularly dense clusters of trees, or rock formations. The scout passed them all by, without so much as a second look. Even Analyze proved mostly useless, merely giving me the names of whatever creature or plant I looked at. Still, it was educational, and I managed to level the skill twice more. Either the scout didn¡¯t identify these spots as dangers, or she was somehow able to rule them out so quickly that we didn¡¯t need to slow down. In fact, she seemed the most nervous when entering open spaces. Our longest pause, by far, was upon entering an open field of blue grass. The meadow was long and narrow, with a thick growth of trees on one side and the collapsed ruin of an overpass on the other. Red and yellow flowers dotted small hilltops. A sweet, honey-like smell was carried on a gentle, cooling breeze that permeated the air. The scout grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me down while signaling for me to be quiet by putting her entire hand over my mouth. I gasped, but she only held tighter. After making eye contact with me for a moment the blue scaled scout seemed satisfied I wouldn''t freak out and let me go. She pulled her rifle from the holster on her back with a practiced grace. The maneuver probably would have been impossible with human limbs. The long, slender arms of the female Peacekeeper had obvious advantages. She swung the rifle up to her shoulder, the weapon unfolding and lengthening as it moved. It produced a click as she held the butt of the gun firmly against her shoulder. It was all done in one smooth motion, and I was drawn to the precision and grace of her movements. Rather than pointing the gun forward, as I expected, the scout instead aimed straight up and began firing in short, four-round bursts. She fired eight bursts and an equal number of birds fell from the sky. I flinched and grabbed my head. My ears hurt, and I could hear nothing but muffled ringing. In front of me, the birds piled atop the field. Each was as big as a poodle and had feathered backs and scaled, leathery wings. Wicked talons and long scimitar-like beaks made it obvious that these were birds of prey. Large muscular legs made them look as dangerous on the ground as they no doubt were in the air. My analyze skill identified the avians as volcarians, an eldritch monster indigenous to dungeons and containment zones. I had expected them to be native Earth species mutated from exposure to eldritch energy. Where did they come from, if not from Earth? Were the dungeons transported from other worlds? Did they still connect to them? As soon as I lost myself in contemplating the meaning of this discovery, a thick vine burst from the ground at the center of the open field. It was massive, at least fifty feet long and thicker than a tree trunk. The vine wrapped around one of the downed birds, and with a sickening crunch of bone, began drawing it inward. A mouth, a half-sphere of thorns rotating like a woodchipper, appeared from what had previously been disguised as a small hill. The bird was tossed into the gnashing maw and immediately turned to paste. I pushed down the feeling of nausea and fear. I had to keep my eyes on the danger. Several more vines grabbed the remaining birds and the creature ¡®ate¡¯ them as well. Afterward, the vines began to flail about. They smashed into the ground, sending up large clumps of dirt, and causing the earth to tremble. It took about ten minutes before the flailing stopped and the creature retreated underground. Divots could be seen in the ground from the plant-monster¡¯s flailing, but the field once more looked tranquil and inviting. Had I not witnessed it, I never would have believed the carnage that had happened here only moments earlier. I would have believed the field as safe and peaceful as anywhere. Though, perhaps nowhere on Earth was safe anymore. ¡°It¡¯s safe now,¡± the scout said. She began to walk into the field. I reached out for her, but she was out of reach before I could react. Her feet seemed to glide over the blue blades of grass, her footsteps light, and silent. ¡°Woah, stop,¡± I yelled. ¡°What are you doing, that thing could come back at any moment.¡± ¡°I told you,¡± she made eye contact as she spoke. Her eyes were purple behind slit pupils. ¡°It is safe.¡± Once she was halfway through the field, not even bothering to go around the mound that had only minutes before been a razor-filled maw with three-foot spinning teeth, I began to follow. I gave the hills a wide berth. Chapter 10: Battle of the Knolls I sat on a grassy knoll overlooking the remains of the Ravenel Bridge. The bridge was mostly intact, but had an odd twist in the center, as if one half of it had been raised up higher than the other. Cars had been stacked at regular intervals, ensuring that anyone who crossed would not be able to progress in a straight line. Large sections of the bridge had crumbled, leaving behind rectangular holes filled only with exposed and twisted rebar. It looked like carrion left to rot in the sun, bits of exposed skeleton protruding from torn flesh. Nature had already begun to claim the ruin. Large swaths of grass grew through cracks in the pavement and vines had grown up and stretched between the steel supports and suspension cables, creating a canopy of green. Guarding over it all was a group of men and women perched atop a barricade made from cars, scrap metal and large chunks of concrete. The guards seemed undisciplined and wore no identifying markers or uniform. ¡°I¡¯ll go ahead,¡± the scout said, ¡°I need to make sure it is safe before we make contact.¡± I looked over to the blue-scaled scout. She had insisted we wait here, despite being so close to our destination. If I had had my way, we could have made contact within a few hours of our unfortunate encounter with the subterranean, carnivorous plant. Thinking of it still made me shiver. Instead, she had insisted we wait here and watch. I don¡¯t know what she saw, or why she decided now was the best time to move. All I had seen were a bunch of loudmouths playing soldier while sitting upon scavenged lawn furniture. Unless you were a warm beer or class, I couldn¡¯t see how any of them could be a danger. ¡°All right,¡± I said shaking my head. ¡°So, I guess I¡¯ll wait here?¡± Being separated terrified me, but I had to trust her judgment. She had kept me alive this long. I would have been plant food without her. Maybe worse. She began walking away but turned back and looked at me. She hesitated for a moment before opening a pouch on the front of her belt and throwing something small and metallic. ¡°Take this,¡± she said. ¡°What is it?¡± I asked, catching the small silver disk she had tossed. ¡°It¡¯s a communication device, we call them relay disks,¡± she told me. ¡°Press the button in the middle, speak and I¡¯ll hear you. Only. Use. It. For. Emergencies.¡± ¡°Sure, but what should I call you? Do you have a callsign or a codename? Or¡­?¡± ¡°Catayla. Call me Catayla. But only in an emergency. If you put me in danger because you get chatty, I will skin you. Remember that.¡± ¡°Alright, Catayla. I¡¯ll wait here.¡± I smiled as I spoke her name. She responded with a scowl, turning away to stalk into a line of trees that ringed the park. It felt good to finally give her a name, even if she did punctuate the reveal with threats of violence. Making friends already, I thought. I¡¯d take what I could get. ¡°Well,¡± I sighed, ¡°I guess I¡¯ll just make myself comfortable here.¡± I found a bench that had been spared the devastation. Even better, it had yet to be covered by the explosive growth of the local flora. The bench was old and made of solid cast iron, not too comfortable, but my aching feet didn¡¯t care. On a plaque welded to the frame of the bench was a single sentence. ¡°In loving memory of John, devoted father and husband.¡± Nothing more, no last name or biography. As I laid back on the bench I thought of him, this John. Who was he? I knew only that he had left behind those who loved him. Those words etched into black metal had survived even the apocalypse. Too few had been so lucky. I sat and waited. *** ¡°God,¡± I said. ¡°So, what must your parents think about you two moving out to California? Liv¡¯s dad can¡¯t be too happy about her going to Berkeley.¡± Behind me, Troy paused the TV. Ignoring a USC game was something I had never seen him do. As soon as the TV quieted, Troy began to laugh. He expertly dodged the pillow Liv tossed at him. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that bad,¡± Liv answered. She glared at Troy, holding up a pillow threateningly as he tried to stifle a laugh. ¡°Well, he¡¯ll get over it.¡± I swatted a fly that was buzzing around my ear. I looked down at the tiny speck of blood between my fingers. ¡°I¡¯m actually kind of glad to get out of here,¡± Troy said. ¡°I mean, who wouldn¡¯t want to move a few thousand miles away from that mug of yours.¡± ¡°Troy be nice.¡± ¡°I¡¯m happy for you guys, really. Once I finish my degree in a couple years ¡­ who knows? Maybe I¡¯ll end up on the west coast too. Things just haven¡¯t been the same ¡­ Cat, my dad.¡± I saw Troy and Liv exchange a glance before Liv stormed from the room with tear stained eyes. ¡°Shit ¡­ Liv, I¡¯m ¡­¡± ¡°Just leave her be,¡± Troy stood in front of me. ¡°It¡¯s good for her, really. We hardly ever talk about it.¡± ¡°I know, I¡¯m sorry. Maybe I should just go ¡­¡± ¡°It¡¯s your fault, you know,¡± Troy said. ¡°Troy, I ¡­¡± I looked over to my friend. He held his face in his hands, but something black was oozing out from between his fingers. It wriggled and buzzed, filling the air around him. ¡°Troy!¡± I began to back away. Troy looked up at me, but my friend was gone. His eyes were wide and lidless, and his lips had been pinned back into a rigor mortis grin. A black cloud of flies buzzed around him. They bit at his skin, leaving behind thick streaks of blood. ¡°She¡¯s dead,¡± Not-Troy yelled. ¡°She¡¯s dead because of you.¡± I turned to run and nearly collided with Liv. Her face was pale and bloated. Her flaxen hair was matted and beginning to fall out in clumps. In her arms she held a small corpse, rocking it back and forth. ¡°It¡¯s your fault, Gus. It¡¯s you ...¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. *** I gasped awake from the dream and fell to the ground screaming while holding my hands over my ears. Had I been asleep? I was almost certain that I hadn¡¯t. Was I having nightmares while I was awake now? That was a weakness I couldn¡¯t afford. My head felt like it had been split open, but I managed to contain my screams. I was making too much of a commotion. I sat up and moved back until my shoulders rested against the seat of the bench. What was that? The memory was a recent one, it had happened just hours before the Hegemony and eldritch monsters had destroyed life as I knew it. God, Earth had literally been invaded by aliens. Despite having happened less than two weeks ago, I found that the memory itself was hazy. I couldn¡¯t remember the details of the real memory. Only the dream remained. Shit, I replayed the memory over and over. Nothing changed. I could feel the wrongness of the memory, I knew it didn¡¯t happen that way. I just couldn¡¯t conjure the real memories, as if they had been supplanted. Replaced. Perhaps this is what Sebbit had warned me about? I shook my head and stood. This couldn¡¯t distract me now. I didn¡¯t have a solution, and I had no idea what the Peacekeepers would do if they found out I had lied. Dissect me or throw me in a hole and forget me, no doubt. It was better for me to focus on what I could do. I was supposed to be staying alert, waiting for Catayla. The bridge was in view of the park, but a line of trees obstructed my view. I got down on my belly and I crept forward, pushing a few branches aside to get a better view. Catayla had long since disappeared, but I watched the tiny silhouettes atop the barricade of cars and scrap metal. I was not the only survivor. If they had lived, then others could have as well. Perhaps even Liv ¡­ or Troy. My mother. My mom might even be here. She would have been downtown when everything happened. I had to hold onto the hope that she was alive. That everyone was alive. I might even be able to track down information about Liv and Troy. The thought made me recall the dream. Troy¡¯s twisted grin and lidless eyes were now a permanent part of my memories. I was trying to move forward to get a better view of the bridge when I heard a snap behind me. Reacting on instinct I rolled to the side. A watermelon sized stone landed where my head had been. Dust flooded my eyes, as small specks of debris struck my face. I jumped to my feet, stumbling. I still hadn¡¯t learned to compensate for my new strength. My mistake caused me to catch a small, crudely crafted spear in the shoulder. I yelled as I grasped the shaft and pulled the weapon free. The spear had punctured my leather jacket but barely scratched the grey jumpsuit. My shoulder, however, still screamed in pain when I tried to move it. I could already feel it beginning to bruise and swell. I activated arcane shield just as a small furry creature slammed into my midsection, carrying me back into the dirt. It began to rake at my shield with small, vicious claws. It screamed as I stabbed it with its own spear. The creature was basically humanoid in shape but had a canine snout and was entirely covered by a thick coat of brown fur. I activated Analyze, hoping for some insight into this fresh hell that sought to kill me: Nothing useful. At least I knew I was getting my ass kicked by a creature that was a higher level than me. Gnoll (Lesser). Skirmisher. Level 6. I launched the creature off me with a kick. Before it had hit the ground, I followed up with an Arcane Bolt and two Arcane Missiles. I never saw them strike, however, as I was immediately hit by another spear, this time in my left thigh. I had learned in my spars with Talith that my arcane shield would be down for a fraction of a second whenever I cast another spell. My greed to finish off the creature had cost me. I needed to be more cautious, fight smart. Fight defensive, use the terrain. Wait for your opportunity. I remembered the words of my father. My left leg burned in pain and it gave out as I tried to stand. I needed to make room. I rolled to the side, but two more of the creatures appeared from the trees. My vision was filled with nothing but claws, fangs, and fur. My arcane shield was blocking the damage, but I knew if I used an offensive spell those claws would make it to my exposed neck and eyes. Suddenly, one of the creatures was lifted into the air. Its partner stared upward in confusion, creating an opportunity for me to strike. With my left hand, I pulled the collapsed staff from my belt. I pressed a small, repressed button and the staff slid to its full length, the sound of metal running over metal echoing. The creature was too close for me to get any leverage, but I was able to use the staff to lift the creature off of me. I sent him flying backward with a powerful, two-legged kick. I jumped up and began bashing the stunned gnoll¡¯s skull. My handiwork wasn¡¯t graceful or beautiful, but it was effective. The monster twitched a final time, before stilling forever. I panted as I looked around me. I heard a growl, as something heavy and foul smelling landed on my back. It began to claw and bite, leaving long white lines in the blue membrane of my Arcane Shield. My mana was slowly draining. Forty percent ¡­ another series of bites and it was down to only thirty. I reached back and grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck, slowly prying it from my back. It scratched and struck at my arm. My mana slowly dwindled, but the shield continued to hold. Finally, I tore it free. I threw it to the ground and began striking with my boot and staff. I heard it whimper but I didn¡¯t stop until it was silent. I looked around, but nothing moved. I had been lucky. I hadn¡¯t won through skill or Skills. I won merely by virtue of being larger and better equipped. It was a chilling realization. If there had been more of them, or if I had been a little less lucky, I would be dead. I heard a gasp and turned to find one of the gnolls still alive, clutching at its throat. Its eyes looked glazed and were unable to focus as they stared up at me. It claws pulled uselessly at a thin silver chain wrapped around its throat. I could have saved the creature, but I watched. When the dead was done, the chain floated upward and wrapped itself around my wrist. If this was the kind of gift she gave a stranger ¡­ I really fucked up not letting the archmage train me. Congratulations! 3,000 XP gained! ¡­ Calculating Low-Level Bonus ... XP total: 4,500. Congratulations! You have leveled up. Congratulations! You have leveled up. You have four (4) unallocated stats points remaining. Checking my status, I confirmed that I was now level three. My stats, however, remained unchanged. Either the only advantage of leveling was the paltry number unallocated stats, or I was missing the benefits of a class. Perhaps I should delay leveling as much as possible, I thought. At least until I learn more. Talith had refused to give me any guidance on the matter, claiming she had only been tasked with giving me combat training. I suspected that the sergeant enjoyed watching me suffer. I would just have to figure this out as I went. I briefly considered saving my stat gains for later. Hell no, I decided. These are real stats. I justified it by telling myself, I need every advantage to survive. The truth was, I was giddy at the chance to level up. All of the stats were tempting, but my build already highly favored Intellect and Mind Over Body allowed me to ¡®double dip¡¯ in a way. Min-max for the win. I poured all four points into Intellect, to a total of twenty-six, but my Might was unaffected. Apparently, the gains from Mind Over Body didn¡¯t round. I smiled as I glanced at my status screen, but my mood immediately fell as I remembered the dead bodies that were scattered around me. I should do something with them. I at least needed to avoid attracting scavengers. I gathered all the gnolls into a single pile, before realizing one was missing. The original attacker, the one that I had struck with Arcane Missiles, had fled. I circled the small park and found a line in the dirt. The dirt and grass were spotted with drops of blood, all leading in a single direction. The creatures had crawled into the trees. I followed, my ready weapon. I found it dead, its head slumped into its chest as it leaned against a tree. Clutched in its hand was a small doll made of woven grass. The gnoll may have been sleeping. I bashed its head, to be safe, and threw it into the pile with the others. Now to decide what to do. Should I burn the bodies? Bury them? Burning would attract too much attention, and I didn¡¯t have the tools to dig graves. I did the best I could by dragging the bodies out of sight and covering them with dirt and rocks. I felt like I should do more, and I was considering saying a few words when I heard a voice behind me. ¡°If I was an enemy you¡¯d be dead,¡± I felt the side of a baton slide against my throat. I grunted and pushed her away, not in the mood to play games. I knew she was stronger than me, but she let me go without a struggle. Perhaps she saw the grief in my eyes, or just didn¡¯t care enough to continue toying with me. ¡°I see you were busy,¡± she said. Her scaled hand was pointing towards the cairns where I had buried the gnolls. Now she wants to talk. ¡°I took care of it,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Chapter 11: Of Class and Men ¡°So ¡­ we¡¯re a team, right?¡± ¡°My primary orders are to establish communication with the natives,¡± Catalya said. ¡°My mission to escort you ends as soon as we arrive.¡± ¡°Sure, makes sense.¡± I stopped walking and looked at her. ¡°Humans are known for their trust of outsiders. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll have no trouble fitting in.¡± She stood there for a moment, eyes half-lidded. I wasn¡¯t sure if my attempt at sarcasm had gone over her head. ¡°That¡­ so what do you propose?¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯ve helped me out, I doubt I¡¯d have made it this far on my own. Not alive anyway. I say we stick together a bit longer.¡± ¡°So, an alliance? You help me in return for me helping you?¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s just call it friends helping friends, shall we?¡± I said putting on my best smile and holding my hands out wide. ¡°Besides, I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s what Sebbit intended. What do you say?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯re not friends.¡± She stared at me for a moment to let her words sink in. ¡°Your proposal, however, is not entirely without merit. I will continue to protect you, and in exchange, you will put me in touch with the leaders of the human settlement.¡± ¡°Charleston.¡± ¡°Wha ...,¡± Catalya began. ¡°I mean the ¡®human settlement¡¯ is called Charleston. It¡¯s my home.¡± ¡°Your home is important to you.¡± Catalya stopped walking and turned to look at me. ¡°My home, too, is important. I hope to see it once again before I die.¡± I wasn¡¯t an expert at alien facial clues, but she seemed lost in thought and perhaps a bit melancholy. Her head was held slightly to the side, and she briefly closed her eyes. It was remarkable how human-like she could appear at times. Even with the blue scales and slit pupils. ¡°Die? You can¡¯t be that old¡­¡± ¡°Do not patronize me little monkey,¡± she snapped. ¡°I will not be made a mockery of because of my scales. I am a woman and a warrior of my people. Not a... a child.¡± She smiled in a way that exposed two rows of pointed teeth. ¡°Do you understand?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I stammered. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to, well do whatever it is I did. Whatever your age, you¡¯re twice as capable as I am. I just meant it seems a little premature to be talking about death is all.¡± She sighed and waited a few moments before answering. ¡°I, too, apologize, Augustus Finn. The subject of my perceived age is a sore subject, one I hope you will forget we ever crossed.¡± The seven-foot warrior stared down at me for several seconds before I realized she was waiting for a response. ¡°Right, of course,¡± I said. ¡°We never talked about it. Also, it¡¯s just Finn, not Augustus. No Mr. Finn ¡­ just Finn.¡± ¡°Alright, Finn. Shall we continue then? It¡¯s a long walk and we should try to arrive before the sun sets.¡± ¡°Alright then,¡± I said smiling wide. I was trying my best to channel my inner used car salesman. ¡°So how about we talk about something else?¡± ¡°If you are going to ask about my home, then the answer is no. We should keep moving, silently.¡± ¡°Oh, it¡¯s not that,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯d love to hear stories of your home. I mean we''re talking about an alien planet. But no, what I wanted to ask you about was classes.¡± She began walking once more, taking us behind the ruins of a college baseball stadium. The field had become overgrown with grasses, vines, and flowers of all hues. The diamond was a wild garden, only home plate was still visible. The stands had mostly collapsed, but an occasional glimpse of aluminum could still be seen through the earth and weeds. ¡°Classes? There isn¡¯t much I can tell you about classes that you don¡¯t already know.¡± ¡°I just need to know how I get one.¡± ¡°You entered the dungeon, correct?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Acquiring a class at a dungeon is the most popular way. You choose from one of seven standard classes, each well researched with clearly outlined and explored progression trees. This knowledge makes these classes extremely powerful for those with the proper guidance, but the weaknesses and abilities of these classes are also well known and documented.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Entire fields of research are dedicated to the optimal progression of the so-called standard classes. Some of the highest-level data is restricted and known only to a few of the most ancient and powerful families.¡± It¡¯s good to know elitism still existed, I thought. Maybe humans and aliens weren¡¯t so different. ¡°¡­ and I didn¡¯t get one because?¡± ¡°The dungeons are still under quarantine, until that is lifted all access is restricted. You shouldn¡¯t have been able to enter at all, but the system restrictions still prevented you from obtaining a class. It is an anomaly, and a troubling one.¡± ¡°I see. You said, ¡®most popular way.¡¯ What are the other ways?¡± ¡°Well, you could join the Peacekeepers, or another one of the Hegemony controlled organizations or Orders. We get access to unique training, skills and even classes. The privilege of service.¡± She glanced at me. "Though, I hardly believe you''d qualify." ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll hold out on that one, for now,¡± I said. ¡°And the other ways?¡± ¡°Those are typically the only ways, Finn. Some achievements or high-level feats will grant classes, but such rewards are generally only obtained at extremely high levels and even then, only with luck.¡± ¡°How high level are we talking about?¡± I huffed between words as we began to climb over ruble. Large chunks of concrete were littered across the road. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve heard about legendary ranked feats giving classes when mastered. Maybe rare feats could, as well. Classes sometimes merge to create new ones, but that¡¯s about it. Almost it, anyway.¡± ¡°Almost?¡± ¡°Well, yes,¡± She paused, even stopping her walk. ¡°There is a method of crafting classes, but it is extremely unlikely to work. You¡¯re much more likely to be stuck with a sub-par class that will hinder you for your entire career, and at the expense of your best feats and skills.¡± ¡°Explain, please.¡± ¡°Well, by sacrificing abilities - usually two feats and two skills - you can create a unique class based around those abilities. The trade almost never results in a class worth the sacrifice, however. Generally, the higher the level of the abilities and the more closely they are related, the better the class.¡± ¡°No one creates classes this way?¡± ¡°Oh, I didn¡¯t say that. Again, the ancient families all do this. The skills and feats involved are all secrets, as are the ways of acquiring them.¡± ¡°In theory, if I wanted to try, how would I go about it?¡± I continued walking, forcing her to keep up with me for a change. ¡°It¡¯s called Soul Forging, and you should have access to a manual through your status screen. I don¡¯t know any more about it then you will find in there. Now, let¡¯s keep moving. Quietly.¡± We continued our slow march towards the bridge. It would have taken no more than an hour to arrive, even at a careful pace, but Catalya insisted on using a route that circled around and brought us through trees and behind cover. This snaking path kept us safe, but it was nearly dusk before we arrived. The current growth of trees we were traveling through ended in a line roughly one-hundred meters from the barricade blocking access to the bridge. Seven men and three women stood atop the encampment, all armed with rifles and an eclectic variety of melee weapons. I saw a woman holding a club almost as large as herself. One of the guards, a man with a red mohawk and a bushy beard, had two swords strapped to his back. He looked like a low rent Witcher. The rest carried a collection of spears, longswords, and axes. Most of the weapons were probably looted from monsters, but the axe was clearly a fire axe from before the system. ¡°It¡¯s probably better if I go alone and introduce you later after they know we aren¡¯t a threat,¡± I said. ¡°Acceptable,¡± Catalya said. ¡°Remind them, however, of clause B of the eleventh amendment of the planetary charter. They should be aware of these restrictions and rights from the tutorial simulation.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I coughed, ¡°Of course, rule 11B. Anything else?¡± She just stared at me, shaking her head. I put my hands up and slowly made my way out of the trees and towards the bridge. It didn¡¯t take long before I was spotted, and soon I saw ten rifles, all trained on me. I stopped. ¡°Hello,¡± I yelled. ¡°Can we speak? May I approach?¡± The large man with the red mohawk and two swords held his hand up as a signal to the others. They all seemed to relax but didn¡¯t take their guns off me. ¡°Who are you?¡± The man yelled. ¡°My name is Gus Finn. I¡¯m from here. My family lives in there.¡± I pointed towards the peninsula on the other side of the bridge. ¡°And you¡¯ve survived out there for two weeks, alone?¡± His voice got higher in pitch as he completed his question. It was obvious that he didn¡¯t trust that anyone could survive the wilds. I wondered what had happened in that time. It must have been terrible had obviously been traumatic. I tried not to think about everything they must have had to do to survive. Or how many had died. ¡°I haven¡¯t been entirely alone, no,¡± I said. ¡°Can I come closer, so we can talk about it?¡± He lowered his rifle slightly and turned to talk to one of the men next to him. I couldn¡¯t make out what they were saying but it was obvious that they didn¡¯t agree with each other. ¡°Alright,¡± Mohawk said. He frowned and turned to look at the man next to him before continuing. ¡°Slowly. And keep your hands where we can see them.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± I said trying to match his speech. ¡°I¡¯m coming over now.¡± I considered removing my weapon, but they hadn¡¯t told me to and I didn¡¯t want to get shot for doing something unexpected. I suspected that my jumpsuit was bulletproof. It would still hurt to get shot, however, and my head was definitely not immune to bullets. If I increase Might enough, would I be able to shrug off bullets? I wasn¡¯t sure, but I wasn¡¯t ready to test it. Nor would I ever; Superman cosplay was better left to others. I always preferred Batman, anyway. As I got closer, Mohawk climbed down and approached me alone. He had slung his rifle over his shoulder, but I still had nine more trained on me. If anything, it guaranteed I stayed polite. Perhaps they were smarter than they looked. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need your weapons,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ll get ¡®em back later, once you¡¯ve been cleared.¡± I unstrapped the belt holding my collapsed staff and threw it towards him. He caught it easily with one hand. He glanced at it admiringly for a second before slinging it over his shoulder. ¡°All right,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°Welcome to New Charleston.¡± Chapter 12: Port Authority We turned south, after being led across the bridge. Three guards walked in front of us, while the man with the red Mohawk and dual swords followed closely behind. I glanced nervously at their rifles. The barrels had remained pointed down, but I couldn¡¯t help noticing how tense the guards seemed and the cold glances they gave Catayla. Mohawk, in particular, seemed tense and never removed his finger from the trigger. I caught him muttering something about ¡®aliens¡¯ and ¡®Peacekeepers.¡¯ The rest of the guards remained silent, but their eyes held the same level of friendliness. ¡°So, ah,¡± I said, turning my head to look at the red-headed Witcher wannabe. ¡°Where are you taking us?¡± ¡°Old cruise port.¡± He never made eye contact, keeping his gaze on Catayla the entire time. ¡°Are there a lot of survivors there? I¡¯m looking for some people.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got some. I imagine the Captain can help you find your people, but not until he¡¯s had his face-to-face. Like that with newcomers.¡± ¡°You expect some trouble along the way?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be there soon. Then I¡¯ll let the captain decide if there¡¯s gonna be trouble or not.¡± Twilight was just beginning to fade by the time a high wall of stacked cars and shipping containers came into view. Spotlights swept the area, and quickly fixed on our position as we moved closer. ¡°So, uh, Mohawk,¡± I said. ¡°Names Worthy,¡± he growled, finally caring enough to look at me. The only female in our detail, a tall blonde, snorted as Worthy made his introduction. ¡°You got a problem?¡± Worthy snapped at her. ¡°No ¡­ no problem at all, Sam.¡± The other guards started laughing. As the guards started yelling back and forth I turned to look at Catayla. She smiled slightly and seemed relaxed. I hadn¡¯t expected her to so easily give up her weapons, and I was even more amazed at her level of calm when surrounded by those who were so obviously hostile to her. Why had she been sent alone? I had little experience with the military, only my dad¡¯s old stories. I did know that they never put their own in danger without a reason. The Peacekeepers could have sent an armed convoy with a full detachment of trained diplomats, and yet they sent one girl. An admittedly badass girl, to be sure. I just couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that she was here for something else. I knew one thing. She would do whatever it took to complete her mission, whether it was good for Charleston or not. The blonde guard held up her hand, signaling a stop as we approached a large, makeshift gate. It had been made from a chain link fence welded to car tires and had metal scrap added as reinforcement. ¡°So, Sam,¡± I said. ¡°Call me Worthy,¡± he spit. ¡°All right, Worthy. Anything you can tell me about who¡¯s in charge?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll find out soon,¡± he said. ¡°Boss man¡¯s not the type to keep you waiting.¡± He narrowed his eyes as he turned back towards Catayla, ¡°specially not with such an interesting traveling companion.¡± Catayla¡¯s mouth tightened slightly, but she was otherwise unaffected. She matched stares with Worthy, giving him a slight smile. The wide, toothy smirk he gave in return unnerved me. It was the smile of a predator,one that never touched his eyes.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°All right,¡± I said. ¡°So how about telling me how much longer we have to stand out here.¡± ¡°Radios don¡¯t work, They¡¯ll send a runner. Just a little patience goes a long way.¡± He rolled the ¡®l¡¯ in ¡®long,¡¯ drawing out the word. I was growing bored when I finally heard orders being yelled from the top of the gate. I could see movement as well, but it was too dark to make out details. ¡°How many are inside?¡± I wanted to plead, but I was able to keep my voice neutral. ¡°We¡¯ve got a few thousand,¡± Worthy said. ¡°Might be more in the rest of the city, but we don¡¯t find many survivors these days. We¡¯d come across them in the beginning, but ¡­¡± ¡°Heard the Navy base up in Goose Creek has survivors,¡± said the blonde guard. ¡°Just rumors, though. No one has made it that far north.¡± ¡°What about the Air Force base?¡± I said. ¡°They¡¯re closer, and if I remember bigger than the Navy base.¡± ¡°Bridgette,¡± Worthy angled his head toward the blonde, ¡°was with a group that passed by there. Completely wiped out. No trace, just weapons strewed about like everyone just up and vanished.¡± ¡°Strangest thing I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± Bridgett said. ¡°No telling what¡¯s out there. Guns are useless half the time. Skin¡¯s too thick, or they heal too fast. Some of the things out there don¡¯t even have bodies you can hurt. They¡¯re just shadow.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you fight something like that?¡± ¡°Fire hurts most of ¡®em,¡± Worthy said. ¡°That, and we¡¯ve got a few mage types with some tricks.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡ª¡± my comment was cut off by the grinding sound of the gate rolling open. Several men on the inside were pushing it but stopped once it was open enough for a single person to walk through. A tall brunette in black slacks walked out. Her hair was put up in a bun, with loose trails flowing down her neck and shoulders. Her glasses made her look a bit like a librarian, but it was offset by the pair of knives strapped to her waist and the bandolier that looped around her waist. ¡°Worthy,¡± She called out. ¡°Please report.¡± ¡°Survivor Ma''am,¡± Worthy said. ¡°Had this one with him.¡± He pointed to Catayla with one thumb. ¡°She¡¯s¡ª¡± I began. ¡°Welcome, Peacekeeper,¡± the woman walked towards Catayla and offered her hand. ¡°My name is Patricia Sterling, but I prefer Pat when talking with friends.¡± ¡°Pathfinder Orvilio,¡± Catayla said, shaking the woman¡¯s hand. ¡°I am an official representative of the Hegemony and I request an audience with your leaders.¡± ¡°Of course. We were not aware you would be coming, or we would have greeted you properly. Please, wait here while I go get my associate and send word to the captain.¡± The woman stepped back through the gate, motioning Worthy to follow her. ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°What was that about?¡± ¡°It¡¯s only proper they¡¯d recognize me,¡± said Catayla. ¡°It would be quite concerning if others lacked your proper level of ¡­ initiation.¡± ¡°What? Oh, you mean the tutorial. I wanted to ask about that, but Sebbit just¡ª" The gate began to open wider, and Pat reappeared with someone new. Sam must have still been inside. I found myself hoping he¡¯d been taken down a peg ¡­ or three. ¡°Alright, please follow me,¡± she said. ¡°This is Sergeant Tiller. He¡¯ll escort you to the ship, the captain will be waiting for us there.¡± Sergeant Tiller was a tall, skinny black man. He looked more like a pencil pusher than a soldier. He didn¡¯t wear any identifying uniform, just a pair of khakis with and a blue button-up shirt. On his hip he wore a thick leather belt and holster, it rode low on his hip just like in the old cowboy movies. ¡°Please,¡± He said, ¡°Follow me.¡± The three guards that had escorted us from the bridge began to follow, but Tiller waved them away. Either they felt we didn¡¯t need an armed escort, or they knew such precautions would be meaningless if Catayla grew hostile. The other side of the gate was dark. There were no lit windows or streetlamps. The faint smell of smoke and grilled meats filled the air, but any fires had long since been doused. We passed through a city of tents and ramshackle huts that had been strewn about over a large parking lot. Eyes peered out at us, and I could hear the quiet whispers of children, but no one came out to greet us. My stomach grew cold as I realized they were afraid. Eventually, we came to a ramp that led up to a massive cruise ship. It seemed like a city by itself. It easily should have been able to fit all the survivors that were now crammed into shacks and tents. ¡°This way,¡± Pat said. ¡°The boss will meet us in the dining hall.¡± The interior was gaudy, decorated to appeal to those that had never seen real luxury. The floor was fake white marble, and the chandeliers were massive structures made of glass. Everything was coated in a thin layer of cheap gold paint. I instantly disliked it. Pat walked up a spiral staircase to the third level of the ship and we followed her through a set of double doors. In the center of the room was a large wooden table. Three chairs had been placed on the side closest to me, and a large man sat alone on the other side of the table. His face was weathered, with thick grey eyebrows. His shirt had been rolled up to reveal forearms covered in corded muscle and deep scars. ¡°Hello,¡± the man said, raising a glass to his lips. ¡°I¡¯m Captain Smith. Welcome to my ship.¡± Chapter 13: Shore Leave The man stood and began to walk around the table. He was almost as tall as I was, but easily twice as heavy. He had a prodigious belly, but an even larger chest and shoulders. He had that combination of strength and fat often found in elite powerlifters ¡­ or bears. ¡°Sorry about the runaround,¡± he said, offering his hand to Catayla. ¡°Normally, I would have met you at the gate, but I was a bit tied up when you arrived.¡± ¡°No offense taken,¡± Catayla said. ¡°Your people provided an adequate escort, and I require no ceremony.¡± ¡°Well,¡± the large man said, pulling out a chair. ¡°Gus, Pathfinder Orvilio, please take a seat. We¡¯ve got some business to discuss.¡± ¡°Catayla is fine,¡± She bowed her head slightly. ¡°Of course,¡± Captain Smith said. ¡°Then please, call me Arthur.¡± ¡°Before we start,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m hoping you can help me find some people.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°Give their names to Pat here once we¡¯re done. She¡¯ll be happy to check them against our records and put out the word. Won¡¯t you Pat?¡± ¡°Of course, Sir. Not an issue.¡± ¡°First thing most folks want to know,¡± the captain continued. ¡°We even started up a bit of a census, tried to get a count and the names of everyone in the camp and ¡­ last known locations of the lost. Tiller here is working on a program, trying to catalog skill and feats. It¡¯s very promising.¡± Sergeant Tiller nodded his head but didn¡¯t say anymore. ¡°Now, back to why you¡¯re here,¡± the captain said. The captain¡¯s chair groaned as he sat back into it. He looked over at Catayla and steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. ¡°We were ¡®advised¡¯ to cooperate with your people. I¡¯ll be honest and tell you I was hoping it never came to that. So, can you tell me why you¡¯re here?¡± Catayla stepped forward, clasping her hands in front of her before giving a small bow. ¡°My mission was to escort Finn,¡± she gestured towards me. ¡°I have also been tasked with establishing friendly relations with the loc ¡­ residents of Charleston, as well as to assess your situation.¡± ¡°Assess?¡± Pat raised an eyebrow. She pulled back her shoulders and placed a hand on one of her knives. ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions, now Pat,¡± said Captain Smith. ¡°To what endswere you tasked with making contact?¡± ¡°I am part of a force of Peacekeepers assigned the duty of containing and destroying eldritch lifeforms and to enforce the quarantine. The Peacekeepers wish to discuss the requirements of that quarantine, and to offer some assistance in return.¡± "Quarantine?" The captain asked. "Are we prisoners here?¡± ¡°No,¡± Catayla shook her head. ¡°Our mission is not to keep the natives in. You are free to come and go as you please, though the Containment Facility, or dungeon, is still off limits. Our objective is simply to maintain the proper ecosystem and contain the strongest of the eldritch creatures." ¡°If that is so,¡± said the captain, ¡°then what do you want from us?¡± ¡°There are certain concessions my leaders wish to receive, including pledges of assistance, supply chains, and the rights to recruit from the local populations.¡± ¡°Recruit? I¡¯m not going to freely give our people over to you, but I won¡¯t stop them from making their own choices. As for aid and concessions, we would have to discuss that in more length. What are you offering in return?¡± ¡°Sir¡ª¡± Pat objective. ¡°That¡¯s enough, Pat,¡± the captain said, ¡°let¡¯s at least hear them out.¡± ¡°Please continue,¡± Pat said, ¡°I apologize.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not qualified to negotiate or to make any promises,¡± Catayla said. ¡°I suspect my superiors will offer material aid, mostly. Equipment, weapons, maybe even some training. The only thing I have been authorized to negotiate is the meeting location and timing.¡± ¡°All right,¡± the captain said. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss the timing and size of such a meeting. Not right now though. I need to discuss this with my advisors. Pat?¡± ¡°If you¡¯ll come with me,¡± Pat said. ¡°Rooms and food have already been prepared for you.¡± After we left the dining room Pat gave me a pen and a sheet of paper and asked me to write down the names of the people I was looking for. I quickly jotted down a note and passed it back. She took the paper and glanced at it before handing it off to one of her men. Without another word, the blonde woman looked over at Catayla and extended her arm, pointing forward. ¡°If you¡¯ll come with me.¡± Catayla and I followed, but we were split at a set of narrow stairs. I considered insisting that I stay with Catayla, but after hesitating for a moment I realized that I didn¡¯t have a good reason to object. Did I expect we would share a room? Since the scout went along with it, I decided not to protest. Pat escorted Catayla to a higher floor, while a guard in a tattered police uniform led me down an access hatch and through a dark, cramped hallway. After less than a minute of walking, we reached a door and the guard grunted as he pushed it open. The room was small, just barely large enough for me to lie down in. It had a low, slanted ceiling that angled downward toward the back of the room. The walls were smoke gray, and a small cot was unfolded against the far wall. That simple bed took up almost half the floor space. A sliding door led to a bathroom with almost enough room for me to sit down without my knees touching the sink. Not the Ritz, but it¡¯ll do. My mind was restless, so I decided to amuse myself by levitating objects with Mage Hand. I feared what sleep might bring, so I resisted it. I wondered if my increased Might and stamina would make it easier to pull and all-nighter.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. At high levels, I might not even need sleep. I couldn¡¯t help my mind from wandering. My father had once warned that the only thing worse than idle hands was an unfocused mind. I needed something to work on. I found a towel and began practicing by folding and unfolding it using only Mage Hand. At first, I was barely able to flop the towel open, but after an hour of practice, I was able to fold the towel into a perfect square almost as quickly as I could have with my own hands. I had also managed to level Mage Hand to the third level. Not a bad use of an hour. Being able to see my progress gave me a feeling of warm pride. It was a bit addicting actually. I scanned through the rest of my skills looking for ones that I could easily level. I¡¯d noticed a bit of a cutoff at the third level, after which skill leveling slowed down immensely. Those early levels gave just as much FP as the higher levels that were more difficult to obtain. The only skill I had below three, however, was venom spray ¨C which was hard to practice indoors. What I needed were more skills. If I could get others to show me their skills I might be able to copy them ¨C even better if I could convince them to use those skills against me. Should I goad someone into a fight, or maybe just ask for a spar? The apocalypse may have been turning me into a masochist. I continued to practice Mage Hand, the rhythmic sound of cotton folding, and unfolding was calming. The repetitive actions had a meditative quality to them. I let my mind drift off and the process became automatic. I soon lost track of how many times I folded the towel but sometime during the night I was rewarded with a status message. Congratulations! The skill Mage Hand ? has increased in level (4/10). I smiled, allowing the feeling of contentment to embrace me as I drifted into sleep. *** A light rap on the door woke me. I was still fully dressed, with my back leaning against the wall. At some point during the night, I had kicked off a single boot. I felt tired and stiff. So much for higher stats lessening my need for sleep. ¡°Who is it?¡± I protested. ¡°It¡¯s Tiller,¡± A voice said from outside my door. ¡°We met last night, may I come in?¡± I made him wait for me as I splashed some water on my face and pulled on my other boot. I looked into the mirror, which was just a polished piece of metal, and saw bloodshot eyes and days¡¯ worth of stubble. I¡¯d looked worse during finals week. I opened the door, walking out of the cramped room. At some point, a new guard had been assigned to my room. This one was dressed in camo pants and reeked of body odor. ¡°Maybe we could do this out somewhere else?¡± I said. ¡°Not a lot of room in there, or out here,¡± I looked toward the guard with a slight frown. He didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°Besides, my legs could use a stretch.¡± ¡°Actually, that¡¯s perfect,¡± Tiller said. ¡°Would you mind going to my office? I was hoping we could speak about something.¡± ¡°Sure, I don¡¯t mind. Think you could answer a few of my questions?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± he said. ¡°What did you want to know?¡± ¡°Last night, Smith said you¡¯d been recording skills? Could I take a look?¡± ¡°It could be arranged,¡± his smile was a shade of white generally only seen in Hollywood or toothpaste commercials. ¡°It¡¯s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Anything special you¡¯re looking for?¡± ¡°Lucid dreaming,¡± I said. ¡°Hypnotism, meditation or anything to do with attacking or defending the mind.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what, if you¡¯re willing to give me a breakdown of your skills and feats, how you got them, what they do, general thoughts based on your experience with them¡­ I could let you take a look at what I¡¯ve collected already.¡± ¡°Deal,¡± I said. ¡°Have you collected any info on classes?¡± ¡°Not a bit,¡± Tiller¡¯s shoulders sagged slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose you¡¯ve got any ideas?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve learned a few things, but nothing useful.¡± Before we left I asked the guard to let Pat know that I would be with Tiller, in case she had any success tracking down any of the people on my list. He didn¡¯t seem pleased to be treated as a messenger, but he accepted with a curt nod. Tiller led me through the passageways of the ship. I found him to be quite friendly if a bit chatty. Mostly, he talked about skills and various theories on how they functioned. He was already nerding out over the end of the world. His casual enthusiasm about everything seemed in stark contrast to reality, but I found it a welcome reprieve from all the doom and gloom. The constant seriousness of everyone around me had started to wear at me. We quickly left the ship, and I found myself walking through the camp once more. It was a completely different place during the day. Families and small groups would huddle together around small fires. I noticed suspicious looks turned my way, but no one dared to approach me. It reminded me more of a camp of starving and desperate refugees than the band of valiant survivors that I had expected. ¡°How rough have things been?¡± ¡°Everyone has lost someone, many of these people are the lone survivors of their entire family. Others have been forced ¡­ to do desperate things to survive. We have plenty of food, water, and even ammunition but we don¡¯t have what these people need.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. My uncle would tell you they need faith. Hope maybe. I think most of them have given up on life altogether. They need something to live for. We have to show them that the world can be rebuilt.¡± ¡°I thought there¡¯d be more,¡± I sighed. Hundreds of vacant faces turned towards me as I walked. There should have been thousands. Hundreds of thousands. I felt helpless before their gaze, unable to even understand what it is they wanted. ¡°This is it,¡± Tiller said, ¡°we can talk more inside.¡± Tiller¡¯s office was inside the Port Authority building. A few guards were stationed at the door, but none of them gave us trouble. They each gave Tiller a respectful nod as we entered. The office itself had a single table stacked with books and various materials. Tiller had collected a wide range of weapons and armor, all stacked in neat piles. Bookshelves were built into the walls, but they mostly held vials of brightly colored liquids. One disturbing shelf seemed to hold pieces of monsters, or at least I hoped that they were monsters. Eyes floated in a jar. Teeth, and scales were laid out neatly in a row next to a massive horn that was heavy enough to snap a bull¡¯s neck. ¡°This is it,¡± Tiller said, pulling a large leather-bound book from one of the shelves. ¡°The result of my research since the system took over. It has every skill we¡¯ve learned about, and notes about how they work and interact with other skills. I¡¯ve also included observations about the new flora and fauna and some of the gear we¡¯ve collected.¡± ¡°You some kind of military scientist, Tiller?¡± I asked. ¡°What? No, yeah, I was military,¡± Tiller said. ¡°I¡¯m an Air Force imaging tech. I take x-rays. Or at least I did, most of that equipment doesn¡¯t work anymore.¡± ¡°This,¡± Tiller waved his hand around indicating his collection. ¡°This is more like a hobby, just one the boss has taken an interest in.¡± ¡°Mind if I take a look?¡± I asked while picking up the book. ¡°No, go ahead.¡± As I flipped through the pages, I told tiller what I knew about skills and classes. He was fascinated by Talith¡¯s theories on specialization and how they related to skills and classes. I also told him what little I had been able to pry from Catayla about classes and Soul Forging. ¡°Interesting,¡± Tiller said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen mentions of it in the manual, but ¡­¡± ¡°Manual?¡± ¡°The guide provided through your status menu? You¡¯ve read it, right?¡± ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ umm briefly. I might have skimmed a few parts.¡± ¡°That¡¯s something you need to fix, but we don¡¯t have time now. I need to record your skills and feats, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I briefly went over my own skills with him, mostly just reading out the system generating descriptions mixed in with my own observations. I held back on some of the details, my paranoia creeping up on me again. Tiller spent the whole time rotating between asking me questions and furiously writing in a spiral notebook. I continued my search through the leather book he had given me. ¡°This,¡± I suddenly said, interrupting Tiller in the middle of a question. ¡°Who has this?¡± Tiller took the book from me and looked at the description before frowning. ¡°That might be a little tricky,¡± he said. ¡°She values her privacy, and I doubt she¡¯d want visitors demanding she show off her skills.¡± ¡°This is important, Tiller. Life or death, literally.¡± ¡°Look,¡± he said. ¡°I can talk to her, but you¡¯re going to have to give me a day or two.¡± I reluctantly agreed, before starting to look through the book again. Tiller asked me a few more questions, but his inquiries seemed to be slowing down. ¡°How about this one?¡± Tiller leaned in and read the description, smiling. ¡°That one I can do. Come on, I¡¯ll take you over to meet my uncle. We¡¯ve been at this for a while and he¡¯ll be looking for me around lunchtime, anyway.¡± ¡°Sounds perfect,¡± I said with a grin. Chapter 14: Words of Blessing In front of me sat a plate of steamed vegetables and rice on flatbread. A carafe of sweet tea, unfortunately with no ice, had been placed in the center of the table. Upside down paper cups were stacked neatly beside it. Frankly, it was the best thing I¡¯d seen in weeks. Even before everything had changed, my diet tended to come out of a microwave, or a fast-food drive-through. ¡°This is great,¡± I said. ¡°Thank you so much for having me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re quite welcome,¡± a said man wearing a clerical collar. Tiller had introduced the priest to me as his uncle, Pastor Belk. He had been a minister at St. Matthew¡¯s Lutheran Church, at least he had been before the events of Eldritch Night. Pastor Belk was the first I¡¯d heard use that term to describe the upheaval that had changed our world. Apparently, it was commonly used among the survivors of Charleston. Generally, only spoken of in hushed tones. No one used the ¡®A¡¯ word. ¡®Apocalypse¡¯ or ¡®Rapture¡¯ had become taboo. I guess the connotations were too final. If you admitted the world had ended, then what was left to do but wait? I wondered if it was the end Father Belk had imagined when he gave his sermons. Did he hold out hope for some robed messiah to set things right? Sitting to my right was Tiller, and Pastor Belk sat on the other side of the table. To my left was a young girl with a blue dress and two puffy, gravity-defying ponytails. When I caught her staring she turned away, hiding her face. ¡°This is my sister,¡± Tiller said. ¡°Tish, say hello to our guest, Mr. Finn.¡± ¡°Hi,¡± she said with a small wave, still not meeting my eyes. ¡°Hello, Tish,¡± I said. ¡°I was wondering who was keeping Tiller in line. It¡¯s nice to finally meet you. I love your dress.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Is it true you¡¯re a monster hunter, and you travel with a blue demon? My friend Mike said¡­¡± The words were a torrent, flowing together until they were almost unintelligible. ¡°Calm down, sweetheart,¡± Pastor Belk said. ¡°Let¡¯s say grace first. We can talk over our meal. Unless our guest objects?¡± The pastor turned towards me, awaiting an answer. ¡°Uh, no,¡± I said. ¡°It sounds nice.¡± Pastor Belk had us all briefly hold hands as he said grace. The simple prayer gave the meeting a sense of normalcy. I cherished that feeling, fleeting though it was. ¡°Please, eat,¡± Said Father Belk. ¡°Thank you, again,¡± I said. ¡°Really.¡± The vegetables were crisp and fresh and the bread was flaky and warm. The tea was room temperature and overly sweet, but it was exactly what I needed. It made me think of home. Home was no longer a place. That place was gone, changed. Home was a time. Time and the people who had shared it with me. ¡°Pastor Belk ...¡± I said. ¡°James is fine,¡± he said. ¡°Alright, James,¡± I continued. ¡°You don¡¯t know a woman named Margaret Finn, by any chance? She¡¯s short, blonde. Goes by Maggie. She¡¯s not Lutheran, but my mother probably would have sought out a priest if she were here.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t know her,¡± The pastor said. ¡°I¡¯m not the only minister that survived, however. I wouldn¡¯t give up hope. Is that why Jonathan brought you to me?¡± ¡°Who is¡­¡± I started before realizing who he meant. ¡°Right, Tiller. No, but it is the thing that is on my mind the most. Thank you, anyway.¡± ¡°Uncle Jim,¡± Tiller said. ¡°I was hoping you could show Finn the skill we talked about, the one from last week.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not comfortable with all this,¡± Pastor Belk said while shaking his head. ¡°This skill¡­ business.¡± He spat the word ¡®skill¡¯ pausing after as his face twisted into a frown. ¡°It still seems like sorcery, witchcraft, and the act of receiving power from any source outside of God doesn¡¯t sit right with me.¡± ¡°Pastor Belk,¡± I said. ¡°James. There are real demons out there. I have seen them. I¡¯ve fought them. Whatever this system is, whatever its source of power, I do know one thing. It can help us fight the things that are truly evil. It may be the only way to stay alive.¡± Pastor Belk met my eyes, his expression unreadable. He shook his head and stared down at his plate. ¡°I know. We¡¯ve all seen them,¡± his fork fell from his grasp. ¡°I¡¯ve seen children literally snatched from their mother¡¯s arms, and cars pried open like a tin can. My calling is not to fight those demons, however. Mine is to safeguard the souls of my flock. I will pray, and leave fighting the more ¡­ literal demons to others.¡± ¡°The two types of demons may not be as exclusive as you think. I¡¯m fighting one now, it warps my memories. Infects my soul, and your skill might give me what I need to defeat it.¡± ¡°God will be our Shepperd,¡± Pastor Belk said. ¡°But he gives with one hand as he takes with the other.¡± The pastor sat here for a minute, picking at his food before he looked up and spoke. ¡°All right, I¡¯ll show you, but just you. I won¡¯t have this affecting my family.¡± ¡°Good. Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°Where can we go?¡± ¡°We have a small room over at the Port Authority building. It¡¯s used for prayer meetings and counseling. It should be empty right now. Let¡¯s finish our food first, how ¡®bout it?¡± ¡°No complaints here,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll come with,¡± Tiller said, quickly backpedaling when faced with Pastor Belk¡¯s glare. ¡°What I meant was that I have some stuff to do back at my office. It¡¯s on the way.¡± The rest of the meal was mostly silent and a bit awkward. It reminded me of mornings spent around the family table. Vague question would be followed by noncommittal answers, everyone wanting to connect, but unsure how. We finished our meal with smiles, as we all stood and turned away. Tish stayed behind to wash the dishes as the Pastor guided me back towards the Port Authority building. I was still faced with silent glares as I passed through the city of tents, but the outright hostility of the survivors had lessened. They still didn¡¯t approach, but no longer made an effort to move from my path. A trail of children followed us, though they always kept at a distance.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Jonathan,¡± Pastor Belk said once we had entered the building. ¡°Please go ahead, I need to talk to our new friend.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Tiller hesitated, before giving me a pat on the shoulder and walking towards his office. ¡°I¡¯ll be here when you¡¯re done.¡± ¡°You wanted to talk to me alone?¡± ¡°Finn,¡± The Pastor placed his hands on my shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re little more than a child, I wanted to let you know that you are not alone.¡± ¡°Thank you, I¡ª¡± ¡°Please, let me finish. I will be here if you need guidance, but if you want my help with this you have to promise to keep it away from my family and from my flock. These people need faith and compassion, not heroes to lead them into battle.¡± ¡°Pastor, Thank you. I really do appreciate it, and I will do my best to keep it away from your family ¨C but you have to understand. This will find them eventually, and if we don¡¯t meet it head on ¡­ you might not have a flock to tend to.¡± ¡°You are not a soldier, Finn, though I suppose my Jonathan is,¡± He leaned against the wall and sighed. Pastor Belk had seemed to have an air of strength about him. At that moment, he seemed tired. Broken. ¡°Just be a friend to him? He isolates himself, and I fear for what it will mean for his soul if he feels he must stand alone.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll stand by him when the time comes, and I¡¯ll do my best to keep this away from you ¡­ and Tish. I need your help though.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll have it.¡± I expected pomp and ceremony, a consequence of growing up Catholic, and yet the actual blessing was a simple process. The pastor led me into the center of the room and placed his hands on my temples and began to recite from scripture. A warm feeling spread through my limbs. I felt rested as the small aches and pains I had accumulated gradually faded away. You have been blessed! This status effect will increase your resistance to all negative ailments and effects. If a citizen is already under the effects of an ailment, being blessed will reduce the effects and duration of said ailment. Additionally, a priest can use Bless ? to drive out evil spirits, curses, and corrupting forces. The pastor continued to recite verses as he dabbled water on my forehead. I knew that the ceremony was not needed to use the skill, but I didn¡¯t interrupt him as he spoke, ¡°Do not become overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.¡± The Pastor stood in front of me not moving. ¡°Did it work? Can you feel it?¡± He asked. ¡°I can feel it,¡± I said. ¡°Can you do it again without all the scripture? Try just focusing on the skill and saying the name.¡± ¡°Alright, I can try,¡± he said while placing his hand on my forehead. ¡°May God bless you and protect you from evil.¡± I felt it hit me again, stronger this time. I stumbled back as I felt a burning behind my eyes. My skin tightened and I felt a numbing tingle make its way down my limbs. I focused on the altered memory of Liv and Troy as the soothing energy washed through my mind, seeking out the corruption. I could feel the two energies opposing each other, one a gentle, warm light and the other an icy black that carried the taste of rot. The energy from the blessing was passive, seeking to surround and protect my memories. It sought to drive out the corruption, not by destroying, but by denying it access. It shielded me from the darkness that was slowly awakening. Yet the dark spread and began to absorb the warm light. In a battle of attrition, it was clear what the results would be. I immediately knew how foolish this decision had been. I was playing with forces beyond my control. I hadn¡¯t expected such a violent reaction. in hindsight, it was probably unavoidable. I might just be making things worse, I thought. I had no choice but to continue. The Peacekeepers would kill me, imprison me, or perhaps worse if they discovered the corruption. Letting the degradation of my mind continue was not an option, either. My only choice was to find a solution on my own, and risking my life was an acceptable cost if it meant I could be free. I began to shake uncontrollably, my legs buckled, and my jaw clamped shut. I sank to my knees and looked up at the pastor. ¡°Again,¡± I said. Pastor Belk stepped backward, ¡°I¡¯m sorry," he said. "I don¡¯t think this is working.¡± ¡°Please,¡± I said. I opened my eyes and tried to hide the pain by loosening the tension in my face. ¡°It¡¯s working, this isn¡¯t dangerous. Just a little unpleasant.¡± He must have trusted me because I soon felt a hand pressed against my forehead and the low murmur of a prayer. A flood of warmth flowed into me. The two powers swirled around each other. I saw images of a bright white energy forming around a pitch-black ooze. Scenes of distant memory flashed briefly before my eyes, but I was unable to keep them in my mind for longer than a moment. I could see the competing energies fighting over my mind. The darkness would invade like a virus, stabbing into uncorrupted memories. It would spread and feed, as the warm light sought to insulate and protect. I was beginning to understand the shape of these two powers. I had theorized that my ability to learn skills relied on my own understanding. For instance, I didn¡¯t learn system created skills from watching Catayla scouting and sneaking because I hadn¡¯t understood the principles behind what she was doing. If I was going to harness this energy I would need to understand the basics of how it functioned. How it was shaped. I could feel the flavor of Pastor Belk¡¯s faith upon the energy of the blessing, it was gentle and didn¡¯t confront its opposition head-on. Instead, it shielded and renewed. It gave strength as it defended, never going on the offensive. The power of corruption sought only to consume and replace, trying to strengthen itself by gaining a foothold in my mind and by absorbing the power of the blessing. This confirmed a theory of mine. If the eldritch energy, the dark power that was corrupting my mind, could absorb and be reinforced by the power of the blessing ¨C then they must be connected. Perhaps they were different sides of the same coin, alternate forms of the same energy. It was like the difference between alternating and direct current. The same thing really, just in a different shape and used in different ways. I reached out for the dark energy in the same way I had tried to manipulate my mana during my imprisonment by the spider. I hadn¡¯t been successful then, but I was counting on my Reactive Adaptability to recognize the life or death nature of my current situation. It seemed to be most effective when I was on the verge of death. I was only alive because I had spontaneously developed a resistance to venom. It was time for an encore. The energy fought me and whenever I thought I had a grip on it I would lose control. It felt like water slipping through my fingers. I slowed only the smallest fraction of the energy. It was enough. The power of the blessing started to surround the eldritch energy. Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s). Mana Manipulation ? (0/10) Congratulations! You have learned a new skill(s). Eldritch Manipulation ? (0/10) This is what I was waiting for. I threw all my will into containing the eldritch energy, forming it into the simplest form I could imagine ¨C a sphere. I compressed the ball of corruption as much as I could, allowing the golden light of the blessing to coat it. I almost immediately gained two levels of eldritch manipulation, and containing the globe of darkness became the smallest bit easier. I poured every ounce of my being into containing the dark energy. I imagined my mind as a vice holding the sphere tightly and gradually squeezing - making the ball smaller and denser. I tried to sever the darkness from my mind completely, but the energy had nowhere to go. I tried to push it out of my mind, but it resisted. It fought, clawing itself further into my consciousness. I looked around, reaching out for Pastor Belk. I yelled form him to use the skill again, but he was gone. Instead, I was in a grey void. My memories swirled around me like stars, a twirling constellation that represented every moment of my life. A sphere of shadow and golden light hung over my head. I could feel myself slowly losing control, gradually losing the battle to stay awake. In a moment of desperation, I grabbed the sphere of light and shadow and cast it into a dark corner of the constellation. In this state, I could see the barriers and connections between my memories, and I used those connections to wall off that section of my mind. It slowly began to break away, drifting into the dark space around the constellation of memory like an iceberg falling into a cold, dark ocean. The severed island of lost memory drifted into the void. My eyes closed. Chapter 15: Homecoming ¡°Hello, Gus,¡± said a familiar baritone. My eyes opened to blue skies. Beneath me where the hard planks of a wooden rowboat. White froth crested over the hull, spilling into the boat and creating a misty spray that wet my face. The noontime sun cast its reflection upon shimmering waves that stretched out far as I could see. ¡°Hello? Where am I?¡± I shaded my eyes, as I tried to make out the man who sat across from me. He was facing me with his back to the sun. He rowed with a strong and steady pace. His face was mostly shadow, but as he smiled I could make out deep laugh lines and crow¡¯s feet at the corner of his eyes. He twirled a blade of grass before shoving it between his teeth. The man turned to grab something at his feet and his face became visible for the first time. His jaw was square and dusted with stubble, and his dark hair was quickly fading into silver. He held my gaze with deep green eyes. A quick hiss and the clink of metal on glass woke me from my shock and the man handed me an opaque green bottle. ¡°Here you go, son.¡± He winked as I accepted the beer by reflex. ¡°Let¡¯s not tell your mom about this one, all right?¡± ¡°Dad?¡± I said. ¡°How are you here? Where are we?¡± ¡°So many questions. Why don¡¯t we just fish?¡± He picked up an old bamboo rod with a cork handle. His movement drew my eyes to an old tackle box. It was grey and dented, still bearing the scars of two generations of father-son fishing trips. On the front, just below the clasp, was an old sticker, peeling and faded. I couldn''t recall what cartoon it depicted, but I remembered putting it there as a child. Those memories didn¡¯t feel real, as if they had happened to someone else. I just couldn¡¯t reconcile those peaceful childhood days spent fishing with my dad with the way the world was now. Such experiences belonged to another place. ¡°This isn¡¯t real,¡± I said. I stood, steadying myself as the small boat rocked. I threw the bottle against the bow, but it merely rolled into the waves. The action seemed as futile as my anger, and yet I couldn¡¯t keep the rage from boiling up. I yelled, kicking at the side of the boat and causing it to tip further before steadying itself. ¡°I saw you die! This can¡¯t really be you ...¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t it, though?¡± said the thing wearing my father¡¯s face. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°You can¡¯t be real. This is an illusion, a fantasy.¡± ¡°Oh, that.¡± He waved his hand in dismissal. His smile now crossed his face from one ear to the other. ¡°This place is as real as any other. The fact that it doesn¡¯t exist hardly matters.¡± ¡°My father would never say anything so pointless. If this isn¡¯t real, then neither are you.¡± ¡°We can feel, interact with, and even change it.¡± He cast a line into the water and I could hear a small splash as a red and white bobber gently rolled on the surface of the water. ¡°It¡¯s real enough, and so am I. And do not believe, even for a moment, that what happens here doesn¡¯t have consequences out there.¡± A wave lifted the boat as a shadow passed under us. I leaned over the edge, the shadow moved quickly but was massive enough that it still took almost a minute for it to pass. I heard the twang of a broken line as the shadow disappeared, dragging the bobber down behind it. ¡°Things exist here, churning beneath the water. Things best left alone.¡± His smile was not my fathers. It was twisted and exaggerated in ways no human face could ever be. ¡°Are you one of those things?¡± I asked. ¡°What do you want with me?¡± ¡°Gus, my boy.¡± His voice became deeper, and his lips peeled back around his grin. ¡°I thought I taught you better than that. Think it through.¡±Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Then who are you?¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m the shadow that hides in the corner of your eye, always watching, never seen.¡± He disappeared, oars sliding under the waves. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I heard a faint whisper in my ear. ¡°The scratch just barely out of reach.¡± I could only watch as he appeared in random spots, instantly vanishing whenever my eyes fell upon his ephemeral form. His voice began to increase in pitch and tempo. His words grew frantic and disjointed. ¡°I¡¯m the voice that picks apart and titter tats, that lays bare the sore deep upon your soul. I don¡¯t hide beneath, I ride the wave above and cast my line betwixt the crest and reel.¡± He appeared before me, his form finally solidifying. ¡°I am the Fisher Man. The wounded king. I have cast my net at the heart of that which binds you.¡± His voice returned to the familiar baritone of my father and he spoke, slowly pausing before each word, ¡°And you, my son. Are bait.¡± I panicked and lurched backward, falling into the water. Shadows wound around me and dragged me into the depths. *** ¡°Finn, my child, are you okay?¡± I looked up to find the face of Pastor Belk. I was lying on a hard linoleum floor and the pastor had knelt beside me and had placed his hand on my shoulder. ¡°Thank God. Are you okay?" his voice grew concerned. "I¡¯ve sent for Jonathan, but I didn¡¯t want to leave you alone.¡± I sat up while rubbing my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine Father, thank you.¡± ¡°Call no man your Father on Earth,¡± said Pastor Belk. ¡°What?¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s from scripture,¡± said the pastor. ¡°You can just call me James, or Pastor Belk if James feels too informal.¡± ¡°Ah, okay. Sorry, Pastor Belk. So, what happened?¡± I asked. ¡°What happened? You tell me. One moment you¡¯re telling me it¡¯s working and that there was no danger, and the next you¡¯re passed out on the ground screaming and convulsing.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°It ended up being more difficult than I believed.¡± ¡°I would say so,¡± he said. ¡°Was it at least worth it? Did it work?¡± I looked at him for a moment before answering. The corrupted memories were gone, but so too were my original experiences. I knew that they were missing, but I only had vague impressions of what was lost. ¡°I really don¡¯t know. Maybe? I think I may have just traded one problem for another. I did at least learn some of what I set out to.¡± ¡°That is always the way,¡± said the pastor with a sigh. ¡°A man without burdens cannot strive to be better. Solve one problem and another is cast before you. Your burdens will make you strong enough to carry the burdens of others.¡± ¡°Or they¡¯ll break me,¡± I said. I began to stand, but my knees wobbled. The pastor grabbed me under my arms and helped me walk until I could lean against the wall. I was still unsteady, but I could feel my strength quickly returning. ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you.¡± ¡°You know,¡± he said. ¡°I have some training in secular counseling. I have a feeling you could use someone to share your burdens with. Anything you said to me would stay between us, of course.¡± ¡°Thank you, Pastor,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re probably right, but I¡¯m really not ready to talk about it.¡± ¡°Just think about it? It doesn¡¯t have to be with me. There must be someone you could confide in?¡± I nodded my head, avoiding giving any sort of real answer. I was saved from the awkward silence when Tiller and Catayla walked through the door. ¡°Are you all right,¡± yelled Tiller as he ran over and helped me remain standing. Catayla remained in the doorway, eyeing me with an unreadable expression. I explained to everyone that I was fine and that I had had success in learning a new skill. This was the only part of the plan that I had confided in the others. Tiller and Pastor Belk probably guessed that there was more, but they never pried. I had to go over everything again when Pat showed up a few minutes later. In addition to Pat¡¯s normal retinue of surly guards, she had someone else with her. She was a young woman, probably only a few years older than I was. Her dark brown hair reached down to the shoulders of her blue scrubs. She had a face that was cute but unremarkable and hidden behind bangs and a thick pair of glasses. ¡°This is Melody,¡± Pat said. ¡°She was a nurse before everything, and she has some healing skills. The ¡®enhanced¡¯ kind of healing skills, I mean.¡± Melody introduced herself and looked me over before declaring that nothing obvious was wrong with me. A glowing recommendation. She still recommended that I get some rest and told me to send someone to find her if I had any worsening of symptoms. I agreed but had no real intention of following through. After I was declared fit, people began to file out of the room, so I took the opportunity to talk to Pat. I had the feeling she could be a difficult woman to get ahold of, at least unless there was an emergency. ¡°Did you find any information on any of the names I gave you?¡± I asked. She gave me a look of pity before shaking her head and saying, ¡°No one on that list is here.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± ¡°But,¡± she interjected. ¡°We do have information on two of the names. Liv and Troy Swanson. Friends of yours, yes?¡± ¡°Old friends, the oldest really.¡± ¡°One of my men remembers meeting them in North Charleston, apparently they were heading up north to the Naval Weapons Station. Supposedly some survivors are there, but we haven¡¯t had any contact.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°Can I speak to him? The man who told you about them?¡± She gave a slight nod, just a single drop of her chin. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll have him find you later. You¡¯ll be in your room, correct?¡± The last bit didn¡¯t seem like a question. ¡°Of course,¡± I said. I meant it this time. That didn¡¯t mean I was planning on sleeping. Chapter 16: Revelations My back rested against the dull grey walls of my tiny room. Bands of blue energy that had been shaped into spirals and rotating helixes floated around my outstretched hand. I was beginning to feel the strain; my hand began to shake, and I felt a dull ache behind my eyes. The glowing blue shapes spiraled faster, continuing to gain speed as I fought to keep them steady. They collided, unraveling into translucent threads that quickly decayed into evaporating dust. I¡¯d been able to hold onto the energy for nearly a minute. My best time yet. ¡°Yes,¡± I yelled. I stood and walked around the room to work out the kinks in my legs and back. I wanted to jump and shout in excitement, but I didn¡¯t want to give the guard outside my door anything to gossip about. Instead, I collapsed into my cot as a grin spread over my face. It had taken me hours just to accomplish this much. Simply activating Mana Manipulation had seemed impossible at first and I had almost given up before thinking to use a spell. What better way to observe mana than to cast a spell? I chose to use Arcane Shield, slowly trying to grasp the mana that bled from the shield like heat from a generator. It took me several minutes, and most of my mana, but I was able to draw the energy into my hands as thin, wispy tendrils. I hadn¡¯t found any practical use for the skill. The floating light show was immaterial and would be useless in combat. It might be good for parties, I thought. Still, I suspected that with practice its uses would be limitless. I could create spells or alter existing ones. Perhaps, I would even be able to create magical constructs on a whim. Like with most skills, the first two levels of Mana Manipulation had come fast. Not only had it become easier to shape mana, I had noticed an increased ability to ¡®see¡¯ the energy. I had been able to feel mana even before gaining Mana Manipulation, but it had never been physically visible. It had been more like a muscle that gradually grew fatigue as I cast spells. Now, I could see the energy as a glowing pool in my chest. Streams of blue that formed into quickly changing runes would flow into my hands as I cast spells. Everyone I saw had a faint blue haze around them. A few had auras of black and red. My own aura was sapphire blue with a vortex of crimson at the center. The red was so dark it looked almost black. I could still feel the mana within me, but it was faint. It grew stronger slowly, and I could feel as the energy around me slowly filtered into the pool. I tried to speed up this process by grasping the ambient energy, but it was too thin and wild to be held. This ambient energy didn¡¯t quite feel like mana, as if some force were changing the energy before I was able to utilize it. Despite my fatigue, I was unable to sleep. My mind raced with possibilities as I came up with new, and increasingly outlandish ways, to practice and use the new skill. It was difficult to put these daydreams away, but I was able to turn my attention to my stats and other skills. The two points in Eldritch Manipulation combined with the points I had gained in Mana Manipulation to give me a grand total of ten FP. I stared greedily at the number before opening my Feat Store. I was already most of the way towards completing Inspiration, so I began spending the points, one by one. I had been subconsciously putting off purchasing the feat. I knew it made no sense, and that I was only delaying out of fear of being disappointed. The truth is, without life and death challenges I am a legendary procrastinator. I hesitated only for the briefest of moments before I spent the final point. Inspiration ? - You have peered into the secrets of the universe seeking hidden, esoteric truths. Witnessing these truths has increased your intellect by two. Additionally, in a moment of inspiration, you have taken hold of hidden knowledge of great power. Ancient knowledge contains secrets of power long lost to modern ages, but so too does knowledge of self hold great value. It is up to the seeker to decide what path to pursue. Do you pursue knowledge long thought lost, or do your studies delve inward? Again, the system hit me with a knowledge wall. If I had examples to follow I could know the results of each choice. I suspected that the results would be different each time, but I had no way to be sure. Even if the results were random I could have searched for patterns to find the option that gave the greatest return on average or produced the greatest number of highly ranked skills or feats.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. For the first time, I regretted not staying with the Peacekeepers. They had all been reluctant to give me specific build advice, but surely, the archmage would have guided me had I accepted her offer. What else was the point of an apprenticeship than to learn from and avoid the mistakes of previous generations? No, if I had stayed then I wouldn¡¯t now have a lead on where to find Troy and Liv. I would probably still be dealing with the corruption eating away at my memories or be constantly looking over my shoulder wondering what Sebbit would do if he discovered that I had lied to him. I wouldn''t worry about past mistakes. My only choice was to move forward. Often the worst choice is not making one at all. The options before me seemed overwhelming, and yet my previous indecision was lost. Something about the wording of the feat caused me to think that self-knowledge was the better choice. The ¡®lost knowledge¡¯ part also made me pause. If it was so powerful, wouldn¡¯t it have been recorded? The construction of an atomic bomb was controlled and highly secret information, sure, but once it was proliferated it had become near impossible for that knowledge to be lost. Then again, who knew what civilizations and magic existed in the universe? It was much larger and more mysterious than it had seemed only a few weeks ago. I made my choice. Your inward journey has focused on the mysteries of the mind. You have plumbed its hidden depths and found the darkness that resides within. The origin of this darkness is external and obscure, and yet it has become a part of you. By gaining knowledge of this darkness you have obtained a semblance of control over it. Beware its influence over you lest the servant becomes the master. That was ominous, I thought. Congratulations! You have gained a new feat(s). Dark Companion ? - The dark companion that has haunted your dreams can now take material form. You control the timing and dismissal of this materialization, but not the actions of the companion while it is summoned. Your connection to the eldritch energies flows into you through this connection. The dark companion may also advise you or aid you in combat but beware that no power comes without cost. Well ¡­ shit. That was even more ominous. Just what did I have living inside my head? I considered summoning this Dark Companion to find out, but I wasn¡¯t ready to face it, especially if it was the creature from my dreams. I didn¡¯t have the mental energy to deal with its riddles or strange way of speaking. I shook my head and looked back at my stats. I still had four FP to spend. The first thing I noticed upon opening the Feat Store was that inspiration was once again available, this time listed as Inspiration II (0/50). I briefly considering spending my points on Inspiration¡¯s second level, but I decided I was better served by choosing something with more immediate benefits. I opened the feat store, looking for how best to spend my four remaining points. Hedge Mage (0/6), Warrior (0/3), Autodidact (0/4), Acrobat (0/3), Inspiration II (0/50), Swordsman (0/4), Staff Defense (0/4), Sniper (0/4) Hedge Mage was interesting but too expensive. I also immediately ruled out Swordsman and Sniper. In the end, it was down to Autodidact and Staff Defense. My finger hovered over Autodidact, it felt right, and the skill certainly fit into my intellect focused build. My finger was halfway towards the screen when I heard a knock on the door. I sighed and dismissed the displays. It was probably better to sleep on the decision. ¡°Come in,¡± I said. A man in camouflage pants and a tan sleeveless shirt opened the door. He squeezed himself into the room but had to press himself against the wall just to close the door. ¡°Hey,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m Millard, Pat sent me. Said you¡¯d be expecting me.¡± ¡°Right, she told you to check up on me too. Didn¡¯t she?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, but that¡¯s not really why I¡¯m here.¡± Millard looked around, he crossed and uncrossed his arms several times before leaving them at his sides. ¡°Your friends helped me out of a tight bind. I owe ¡®em.¡± ¡°You met Liv and Troy? Where? Are they Okay.¡± I asked. ¡°Yeah, I met ¡®em and they was fine last time I saw ¡®em.¡± ¡°Oh, thank God,¡± I sighed. ¡°Where were they?¡± ¡°North Charleston, a bunch of us had been hiding out in the Northwoods Mall. Some bug things got in, started chasing us. Killed almost all of us. I managed to escape but they were chasing me when that girl, no shit, comes out of now where and splatters ¡®em all over the sidewalk.¡± ¡°Liv saved you from monsters? Liv?¡± ¡°Not just me, a bunch of folks. She had ¡®em packed like sardines into the back of that truck. Said they were heading up to the base in Goose Creek. Troy, I think that was him, Liv¡¯s guy, right?¡± Millard waited for my nod before continuing. ¡°Yeah, he was running around blasting this hand cannon, must have killed six or seven of those crawling bastards.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t go with them?¡± ¡°They offered, a bit too pushy to be honest. I got family here, though,¡± he sighed. ¡°I didn¡¯t get to them in time.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too.¡± We sat like that for a while, no more words needed to be said. ¡°Listen,¡± Millard said. ¡°A few boys I know have this killer hooch. Maybe a little smoke, some guitar. Care to join us?¡± I smiled. A distraction was just what I needed. Chapter 17: Night Becomes Day I stood across from Tiller. My arms were outstretched as power crackled between my fingers. He stood in front of a lowering sun, his gun held at the ready. I narrowed my eyes, waiting for the attack. ¡°Again!¡± A cascade of Arcane Missiles launched from my fingers, falling around Tiller like a meteor shower. The missiles were widely spaced and yet each would curve towards their target before impact. They would even follow him for short distances. This made the attack almost impossible to dodge at close range. Just as the projectiles were about to strike, Tiller dropped down before launching himself into a backflip. The missiles collided with the platform, sending up a cloud of pulverized concrete. Well, they were difficult to dodge unless you were some kind of precog ninja like Tiller. I lost track of Tiller as he faded into the cloud of debris. I heard gunfire. Something hard collided with my chest, pushing me backward. Then again. Three more times, a glowing stream of light collided with my Arcane Shield. My mana was getting dangerously low. A few more shots and not only would my defense be gone, I¡¯d have no mana left for offense. Blue sparks exploded from my shield as winding fissures appeared in the thin membrane. I smiled. I had him now. Tiller thought I couldn¡¯t see him through the cloud of grey dust. He had no way to know that I was able to see the mana that flowed through his hands just before that last shot. I waited. I just had to time it right. There! A faint spark of blue light signaled when and where the attack was coming from. I charged directly towards it, activating Staff Defense. I spun my weapon in front off me, completely failing to deflect the bullet. It didn¡¯t matter, I had timed the skill just right to absorb almost all of the damage. I swung, and my staff cut through the empty air. Tiller was just above me, I could see the glow of his gun as it prepared to fire at my exposed head. Gotcha. I cast a single Arcane Bolt followed by a loud grunt as the bolt struck Tiller¡¯s stomach. He crashed into the cracked pavement, gasping for breath as he desperately tried to refill his lungs. ¡°You doing alright there, old man?¡± I yelled. ¡°I seem to remember landing more shots than you did.¡± He said, pausing between words as he struggled to breathe. ¡°And I¡¯m two years older than you, tops.¡± ¡°I just needed to hit you once,¡± I reached down to offer him my hand. ¡°Besides two years might as well be ¡ª" ¡°Enough! Both of you should save your breath.¡± Catayla sat on a railing, one leg hanging loosely over the edge while the other was pulled up to her chest. It looked as if like any casual movement could send her toppling over the rail and into the rocky water below. She was framed by a crimson sun setting beneath fiery orange clouds. When Tiller and I had approached Catayla for tips on how to increase our skills we had been surprised when she had insisted on training us herself. That was three days ago. Three days of twelve-hour training sessions under a grueling tyrant. If we weren¡¯t sparring with each other, we spent every minute of that time engaging in calisthenics that I was sure could double as ¡°enhanced¡± integration methods. ¡°Foundation.¡± She had called it. ¡°If your body isn¡¯t fit, all the stamina in the world won¡¯t stop you from collapsing from exhaustion halfway through a fight.¡± She had claimed stats were more, or less, effective depending on the natural abilities of the user. Fights between warriors of equal stats and skill levels were often one-sided if one combatant had failed to temper their ¡°foundation.¡± Or so Catayla claimed. The sheer joy she seemed to take in our torment made me somewhat skeptical. Whatever her motive, I thought, her training has sure as hell been effective. I helped Tiller to his feet and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder at how much stronger I felt despite having received no recent boost to Might. It seemed that natural gains from good old-fashioned exercise were not additive, but multiplicative with the two points of Might I had gained from Mind Over Body. Tiller was still breathing heavily but seemed to have mostly recovered by the time he reached his feet. It wasn¡¯t the first time I had knocked the breath out of him. He may have gotten me back once or twice, as well. ¡°Good,¡± Catayla said. ¡°Tiller you¡¯ve already got a solid grasp on how to lead your shots but try aiming a little lower when your opponent is evading. The concussive effect of your shots can trip them up even on a miss.¡± With a twist, she launched herself from her perch before landing a perfect flip right in front of me. He eyes regarded me coldly. ¡°Finn, you still need to put in more effort. Never stop moving against an opponent like Tiller. His ranged attacks are quicker than yours and they interrupt your casting, but you refused to close the gap until the last minute. Take him up close and you neutralize one of his only advantages against you.¡± We both nodded and walked back to the center of the platform. Tiller took the time to reload his weapon as I cracked my knuckles and shook my sore limbs. I downed a small vial of blue liquid and felt a small portion of my mana begin to regenerate. I smiled and locked eyes with Tiller, waiting for the signal. ¡°Again.¡± Tiller was instantly moving. He ran to the side, his revolver firing out constantly. Several shots exploded into blue sparks as they collided with my shield. I activated Staff Defense just as he fired another shot and I almost cheered in joy as a glowing blue bullet was deflected by my staff. Two more shots exploded just over my chest, creating a branching network of white cracks in the glowing blue membrane. Already, I could see Tiller¡¯s gun preparing to shoot. I fell into a roll, just as a bullet tore through concrete creating a shower of debris where my feet had just been. The blast knocked me to the side, but I kept my balance and began charging towards Tiller once more. I cast Arcane Missile twice, forcing Tiller to dodge. This bought me time to close the distance and slightly slowed down his relentless onslaught of bullets. By now, Tiller¡¯s gun should be empty. Any shots he fired after that point would be made from pure mana. They still packed a punch but didn¡¯t have the stopping power of the real thing. If I kept him moving he¡¯d never have time to reload. I just had to find a way to turn that to my advantage.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. I continued my charge but slowed down slightly as I began to cast Arcane Missile. It was a mistake I had made repeatedly during our early spars, and Tiller reflexively reacted. I sped up and fell into a forward rolled. I dismissed my shield at the same moment gathering what mana I could from the dissipating spell into a sphere in my right hand. Tiller had anticipated a slower speed, and his bullets fell behind me. He was already matching my movements, firing another shot. I stopped completely, throwing my staff like a javelin, just as the ground exploded in front of me. Tiller effortless spun out of the way using an impressive pirouette. He ended the turn with his gun leveled at my chest. Rather than dodge, I released the mana in my hand into a brilliant flash of light. Two shots collided with my chest. I coughed and gasped as I desperately tried to suck in a breath. My entire chest felt like it was on fire. I ignored it. A half dozen Arcane Missiles sprung from my fingers and flew towards Tiller. My mana was finally exhausted. My entire body felt slow and there was building pressure behind my eyes. Even half-blind, Tiller did an impressive dodge of evading the tiny orbs of arcane energy. He spun and slid as they flew over his head, but he didn¡¯t dodge them all. A missile struck him in the left thigh causing him to stumble during a flip. He fell to the ground just as the final projectile struck him in the chest. ¡°You alright, Ebenezer?¡± I yelled through the ringing in my ears. ¡°Ugh,¡± he ground. ¡°Ebenezer? What the ¡­ I told you, kid, I¡¯m like two years older tha ¡ª" ¡°Kid? You¡¯re barely ¡­¡± ¡°That¡¯s it for the day,¡± Catayla said interrupting our childish argument. ¡°Do a dozen laps around the camp and then get some grub. I¡¯ll be there myself if you hurry.¡± She began walking away before looking back. ¡°Don¡¯t even dare to join me while smelling like a couple of wild tjornacs. That rust bucket still has running water, I suggest you avail yourself of the luxury.¡± I walked over to Tiller and offered him my hand, but he waved me away. His chest was still rising and falling in ragged heaps. ¡°Just kill me now,¡± he said. ¡°No really, this is insane. Every part of me hurts. My eyes hurt. My fingernails hurt. I feel like my hair is on fire. How is it possible for your hair to hurt?¡± ¡°Just part of getting old,¡± I shrugged, sinking down beside him. ¡°Well we can¡¯t all be spring chickens,¡± he laughed. ¡°Seriously though, good job. I didn¡¯t even know you could do that light thing. A new skill?¡± ¡°No,¡± I shook my head, ¡°new use of an old skill.¡± ¡°Mana Manipulation? Man, I wish I could get ahold of that. The possibilities for ¡­¡± ¡°I just wish I could keep up with that reaction speed of yours,¡± I said. ¡°Those last two shots nearly knocked me on my ass.¡± We bantered for a bit before we both felt strong enough to stand. Every fiber of every muscle ached. I swear I heard my hip pop when I started walking. Catayla was going to work us to death if this continued. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m going to get these laps out of the way. You coming?¡± ¡°Give me a minute,¡± Tiller shook his head. ¡°You go ahead.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± As I ran, some of the stiffness left my muscles. There was still the constant ache, of course. The pain followed me everywhere these days, and as soon as I got used to it Catayla would increase her demands. Still, I had to admit my gains had been impressive. The constant need to dodge literal bullets had granted me a Dodge skill. Catayla had also demanded that I purchase Staff Defense when she had found out it was available. Being forced to tank Tiller¡¯s attacks had increased both skills to the third level. Being shot repeatedly over the last few days had also leveled Arcane Shield to its fourth level. The repeated mana exhaustion was leaving me with migraines, but I had also noticed that Arcane Shield had become more mana efficient. A fair tradeoff, I suppose. I¡¯d also been able to increase Arcane Missile, Staff Fighting (Basic), and Mana Manipulation by a single level each. That left me with enough FP to purchase both the Hedge-Mage and Autodidact feats. Hedge-Mage granted me three new spells: Tanglefoot, Wild Growth, and Barkskin. None of them had seemed particularly powerful, but I was able to quickly level each skill to its second level. If nothing else, they were a welcome source of new FP. Autodidact granted no skills but did grant two points to intellect and a slight increase in learning speed. This would prove useful in breaking through the soft cap on many of my skills. At least I hoped. Additionally, I had opened three new feats available in the ¡®store¡¯- Illusionist (0/25), Circle Mage (0/25), and Erudite (0/25). Each was an obvious continuation of an earlier feat. It also seemed that the cost of feats would significantly increase between tiers. I put every new FP into erudite as I gained them, but it had yet to produce any results. I took a last look at my stats, just as I finished the final lap. Augustus Finn Class: N/A Level: 3 Stamina (r/ per second): 23/23 (0.192) Mana (r/ per minute): 66/66 (2.20) Might: 11 Agility: 6 Reaction: 6 Intellect: 30 Perception: 10 Focus: 5 Phys. Resist: 2 Mag. Resist: 1 My Intellect was impressive, and my magic had certainly gotten stronger as a result, but I felt like a bit of a one trick pony. I¡¯d been alone for nearly all of my fights up to this point, and I¡¯d learned you couldn¡¯t rely on anyone else to survive. Perhaps a glass cannon was not the way to go. Rather than focusing on a single stat, Tiller had split his gains between perception and reaction. The combination gave him an impressive boost to reflexes and an almost preternatural ability to judge where his shots would land. This, combined with the area-of-effect nature of his attacks, had let him juggle me almost at will until I had adapted my tactics. Even then I would have been unable to compete with him at all without the use of Arcane Shield. It was humbling as I had started to believe that my gains were unique. The truth was, many of the survivors had experienced much more combat than I had over the last few weeks. Some of them, including Tiller, even had combat training from their prior lives. This was a gap I was still trying to close. After finishing our run, Tiller and I agreed to meet at his office after getting cleaned up and finding something to eat. I stayed behind for a moment, enjoying the final moments of the sunset. I took a long drink from a plastic water bottle as I sat on the railing overlooking the waters of the Cooper River. The water was splendid in reflected oranges that grew darker as they reached the harbor. On the other side of the water had once stood a city, proof of human¡¯s dominance over the environment. Now thick jungle grew above the concrete, and jagged cliffs dominated the horizon. The only testament to mankind that remained, was the Ravenel Bridge that still stretched across the river, dividing the skyline. Once the sun finally disappeared I decided to take a quick walk around the water to clear my head. Evening walks had become a habit of mine, one of my only remaining vices in a world that tolerated no weakness. The air was beginning to grow cool as the last traces of color faded from the sky. I heard thunder, and clouds rolled over the moon leaving behind only a faint corona. The slight drizzle that followed was welcome and cooled me as I walked. I heard laughing and shouting as children ran from the rain, back towards their tents and families. This wasn¡¯t perfect, but it was enough. I ended my walk back at the training platform. The rain was finally starting to slow, and I could feel a few pangs of hunger. I would wait just a moment longer. I looked back over the river just as a line of light shot into the sky. It was far away but growing larger and brighter. I stepped back and threw my hands over my face. A shockwave pushed me back as a purple light exploded in the sky. My ears rang, and my eyes were watery and nearly blind. It had been like looking directly into an atomic blast. ¡°My god,¡± I said. I could hear screams of shock and pain coming from the camp. A woman¡¯s wail rose over everything else and for a few moments, it was all I heard. My eyes were still mostly blind, as I rubbed at my eyes. When my vision cleared, it was meant by a pillar of violet light rising into the sky. Above the pillar was a swirling vortex of dark clouds. I just watched, I don¡¯t know for how long. The screams had settled into silence, and I noticed hundreds of people standing along the water, all staring in horror at what was happening. It reminded them of the flaming sky that preceded Eldritch Night, I realized. They were terrified and in shock. So was I. Chapter 18: The Price of Darkness Deep lines of flickering shadow cut across the deck as a purple star burned on the horizon. It split the sky in two, as a billowing vortex blackened everything above it. Those of us hiding in the shadows made plans as we stared into the unknown. ¡°So, what do we know?¡± Said Captain Smith. I gripped the railing as my head leaned over the side of the ship. The heavy wind tugged at my jacket and swept through my hair as I peered into the distance. Beneath the vortex of black clouds, a thin violet mist spread out from the light and had crept slowly towards us. I could feel the eldritch energy like a cold shiver up my spine. ¡°We¡¯ve called back most of our outposts,¡± Said Pat, ¡°and reinforcements have been sent out to support the bridge team. All scavengers and scouts have been recalled and the patrol along the wall has been doubled.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of calling back all of our eyes,¡± Tiller added. ¡°We don¡¯t know what is out there.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± said Pat, ¡°But keeping them out there is too dangerous. We¡¯ve had reports of increased monster aggression, and the bridge team has been under attack by a constant flood of low-level combatants. We believe they are fleeing. From what, is the question that terrifies me.¡± ¡°We could blow the bridge,¡± said a man with a British accent. He walked to the center of the crowd, pausing to look around. He made contact with each of us giving a tight-lipped smile under a pencil-thin mustache. He was short and middle-aged, with a thick accent and an even thicker stomach. ¡°We get rid of the bridge,¡± he continued, ¡°and then we move, get as far away as possible.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a good idea,¡± said Catayla jumping into the conversation for the first time. ¡°You¡¯ll never make it out of the quarantine. Not alive. I need a team to accompany me back across the bridge. Once I have made contact with my superiors, we find out what went wrong, and then we retreat back to a safe staging area.¡± ¡°You still haven¡¯t had any luck contacting your people?¡± Captain Smith asked. ¡°No,¡± she said, slowly shaking her head. ¡°I should be able to contact any Peacekeepers on the planet, or even receive messages from off-world. I haven¡¯t received any scheduled communications, and my messages are not acknowledged. I also haven¡¯t received any of the normal bulletins from off-world. We¡¯ve been completely cut off.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we take the ship¡­¡± asked a slender woman with brown hair. ¡°Think no one tried that?¡± Said the captain. ¡°Something big is out there, it¡¯ll smash us to pieces as soon as we leave the harbor. Seen it happen and it ain¡¯t pretty. Smaller boats could move upriver, but we don¡¯t have enough to get everyone to safety.¡± ¡°The rivers will be the most dangerous,¡± Catayla said. The crowd began arguing. There seemed to be an even split in opinion between destroying the bridge and supporting Catayla¡¯s proposal. Many were already calling for us to retreat to the west, or to try to fight our way north towards the Naval Weapons Station. That fit my plans. I hadn¡¯t told anyone, but I was planning to set off alone towards the Navy Base as soon as I finished training with Catayla, and maybe gained a few more levels. Now the blue-scaled scout asked us to go in the opposite direction and to risk our lives in the process. ¡°I¡¯ll go,¡± I said. The crowd briefly paused their argument to look towards me. None of the looks seemed too friendly. Even Catayla looked at me with cold eyes. ¡°That¡¯s brave but hardly relevant,¡± said the British man. ¡°Should we put our lives at risk while you galivant around on some merry chase? It¡¯s suicide out there.¡± ¡°Shut up for a minute, Thurber,¡± said the captain. ¡°Catayla, can you get through that fog? How many men would you need?¡± ¡°The fog will likely be dangerous for anyone without a high Might and mental resistance. If it is concentrated eldritch energy, as I suspect, then it will corrupt both the mind and body. I¡¯ll take six with me, no more, and they¡¯ll have to be able to keep up.¡± ¡°I think I can protect us from the mist," I said. "But I¡¯ll need help. I can manipulate eldritch energy to a small extent, but my range and control haven¡¯t progressed very far.¡± ¡°What kind of help?¡± asked the captain. ¡°A skill,¡± I said. ¡°Tiller¡¯s notes mentioned a skill that allows the user to augment the abilities of others. Song of something or other.¡± ¡°Song of the Triumphant, yeah,¡± Said Tiller. ¡°No way she¡¯s going with you, though.¡± Tiller crossed his arms while shaking his head.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°This ain¡¯t no democracy, kid,¡± said Captain Smith. ¡°I¡¯ll decide if we go, and who¡¯s going. Someone has a problem with it they can get my boot on the way out.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Rachel Pickman,¡± said Tiller. ¡°Wait,¡± said Pat, ¡°Pickman, as in Senator Pickman?¡± asked Pat. ¡°His only child, the apple of his eye,¡± confirmed Tiller. ¡°Well, shit,¡± she said ¡°I really don¡¯t see that happening, Captain. Her dad¡¯s a real jackass. Thinks he¡¯s still in charge. She¡¯s not too much better, spoiled and sheltered her whole life. Not someone we can trust with a mission like this.¡± No one tried to argue after that. We just stood silently, waiting for the Captain to answer. I looked down at the cracked panels of the wooden deck, sighing at the futility of it all. East or west, it hardly mattered. Either way, I was rushing towards my death. I¡¯d have been better staying there and getting drunk on moonshine with Millard and his boys. ¡°Alright,¡± said Captain Smith. ¡°I¡¯ve made up my mind. We¡¯re giving Catayla her team. Pat, I want you to handpick the best we¡¯ve got. Combat types with experience, pick those with at least a few points in Intellect.¡± ¡°Thank you, Captain,¡± said Catayla. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet,¡± he said,¡± Once you¡¯re across the river we blow the bridge and hope for the best. You¡¯ll be on your own from there.¡± Catayla dropped her eyes as she regarded Captain Smith, before giving a grunt of approval and shaking her head. ¡°Good,¡± he said, breaking away from Catayla¡¯s gaze. ¡°Tiller!¡± ¡°Yes, sir.¡± ¡°Take three men and get Senator Pickman and his daughter.¡± Tiller hesitated for a moment, but only briefly. ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll get them immediately.¡± *** ¡°No, absolutely not.¡± The senator could have been stock footage of a middle-aged businessman. He had a strong chin with high cheekbones. His jet-black hair was suspiciously only gray in the temples. Somehow, he had managed to still be wearing a suit, perfectly pressed and tailored. He even had one of those tacky flag-pins that all politicians were mandated to wear. His only concession to the end of the world was going without a tie. ¡°I¡¯m not arguing with you, Dad.¡± Rachel Pickman had her father¡¯s classical good looks, including his high cheekbones, blue eyes, and black hair. That was where the similarities stopped. Rather than a business suit, she wore ripped jeans and a black leather jacket with spiked studs and only one sleeve. Her hair was shaved on one side and long on top, and she had pulled it back into a tight ponytail with blue highlights. ¡°If I can help, I¡¯m going to do my part. Isn¡¯t that what you always taught me?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve always supported your rebelliousness, to an extent, but this isn¡¯t the same as getting a girlfriend and starting a punk band. This has real consequences. The life and death kind. I¡¯ve already lost your mother, I can¡¯t¡­¡± The senator began to cry, and if his daughter''s skill wasn¡¯t so useful to me I would have ended it there. Instead, I watched as a daughter said goodbye to her father. I envied her chance to do so. ¡°Enough,¡± said the captain. ¡°I¡¯m not going to force you to go, but you¡¯re a grown woman and this is your choice. We¡¯ve told you why we need you, and what we¡¯re up against. Just give us a yes or a no. I¡¯ve got shit to do and watching your old man blubber is making me queasy.¡± ¡°I¡¯m coming,¡± she said. The father and daughter continued to argue, but it was clear from the look on the man¡¯s face that he knew that he had lost. His rage eventually gave into pleading, until he finally surrendered with a visible slump. He seemed to age ten years at that moment. The senator took his daughter into his arms. His tears eventually turned into words of support and love. I wondered what my own family was doing. Would they approve of my actions, or fear for my life and beg me to stay? Would I listen? To know that I¡¯d have to find them which wasn¡¯t going to happen if I hid behind walls while others did all the work. If I was going to do something, anything that mattered, I would need strength. I¡¯d learned one important lesson from the shit-storm that had spread over the world: No power comes without a price. I needed to grow stronger, but I could only think of two ways to do so quickly. I could risk forging a class, or ... the Dark Companion. I had yet to summon it. Instead, I let it take up free real estate in my head. Time for the freeloader to pay rent. I left the captain and his team, letting them take care of the details. I already knew we were leaving as soon as the sun was up. It seemed silly to wait for dawn when night had been rendered meaningless by the pillar of light that burned as bright as the noonday sun. Still, people needed rest and time to prepare. I walked back to my small room, avoiding the pleading glances I saw along the way. Everyone was lost. The chaos had become too much and they craved answers. My strange arrival had created rumors of my connections to the aliens and had given me an air of mystery. In reality, I was just as confused as any of them. Besides, I knew answers weren¡¯t what they needed. What they really craved was for someone to step forward and say, ¡°everything is going to be okay. I¡¯ve got this.¡± Maybe someone knew what to do, but I didn¡¯t. I sighed as I stepped into my small quarters and locked the door. The room was just as empty and gray as usual, but the floor had picked up a layer of dust that I hadn¡¯t gotten around to cleaning. My small bed was folded back against the wall leaving me just enough room to sit down in the center of the floor. ¡°Companion! Fisher Man!¡± I called out to it, literally. I didn¡¯t hold back, not caring who could hear me. When nothing happened, I visualized the island of broken memory. I willed it to appear as I called out once more. ¡°Fisher ¡­¡± I screamed. Black smoke that crackled with red energy began to swirl around me. It slowly condensed into a small sphere, appearing right in front of me. The ball pulsed as it spoke, ¡°Gus, my boy. I knew you couldn¡¯t stay away.¡± I reached out with the Eldritch Manipulation skill and I squeezed the energy as strongly as I could. ¡°You will never use that voice again! Do you understand?¡± ¡°Oh, perhaps this one then?¡± The voice was deep and scratchy, like a thousand nails on a blackboard. It reverberated through my skull and shook my teeth. My eyes watered, as salty tears mixed with two lines of blood flowing from my nose. ¡°Gah,¡± I screamed as I reached out once more with my skill. The ball began to compress as I squeezed. My muscles tensed, and I could feel my grip slipping but I refused to let go. If this thing was going to share my mind, I would be the dominant personality. Or I would be destroyed in the attempt. ¡°Fine,¡± said a deep and soothing voice, ¡°You never did have a sense of humor. I¡¯ve seen your whole life, you know? All your memories, your dreams ¡­ and I must say ¡ª Gus is a dull boy.¡± ¡°Then you know what I want?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± the sphere said. ¡°But will you pay the price?¡± Chapter 19: The Band Sets Out ¡°What is this place?¡± I asked. I floated through an infinite grey void on an island of iridescent glass. The island was a perfectly circular disk perhaps a dozen meters wide. In the distance, I could see a hexagonal column crackling with lighting. Atop the pillar sat a man hid within the folds of a billowing black cloak. ¡°I thought you might not recognize it. Kind of empty, don¡¯t you think?¡± The laughter was like a peal of thunder, intense and foreboding. ¡°This is your mind, or at least the part of it you kindly made my home. We bargain for knowledge, what better place to impart it?¡± ¡°Name your price, Demon,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m tired of games.¡± ¡°Price? Demon?¡± the voice was soft, almost a whisper. ¡°I think not. Does the angler bargain with the worm? No, he guides his bait upon the hook and like the hand of fate casts out his line beneath the frigid waves.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no fish to take your bait,¡± I said. ¡°What is it you¡¯re hoping to catch?¡± ¡°An enemy, old and new,¡± the creature said. ¡°At the heart of that which binds you, dead my quarry waits ¡­ dreaming. His visions unfold, twisted and stolen by the fleas that walk upon his pallid flesh.¡± His voice took on an acerbic quality dripping with rage. ¡°No more,¡± it said. ¡°Three questions asked, thrice answered a boon of words I seek. Three words whispered at my call, three answers now I¡¯ll speak.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll play,¡± I said. ¡°You give me my answers, and in return you want me to say three words? That¡¯s it?¡± It felt wrong, too easy, and yet I couldn¡¯t imagine how just speaking three words could be dangerous. There wasn¡¯t even anything keeping me from prefacing the words or adding an explanation after. ¡°An accord, then? Freely given?¡¯ ¡°We have a deal,¡± I said. The creatures cloak fell back away from his face revealing a skeletal smile upon a bleached skull. ¡°Then ask and be done.¡± ¡°For now, I just need you to guide me through the best way for me to create a class with my current resources. It needs offense and survivability and should preferably combine Reactive Adaptability with my ability to manipulate eldritch energy.¡± ¡°Best? No ¡­ No. I can lay no guarantees, your mind still lost might be. But to be your guide, that I can do. A catalyst you require, a vessel to carry your intent. Three drops of blood and freedom I petition.¡± ¡°What kind of freedom? I¡¯m not setting you loose to kill or infect others. I¡¯ve already committed to shedding my own blood, but I don¡¯t want the blood of others on my hands. If I¡¯m to set you free, I¡¯ll require promises.¡± I stood up straighter trying to confront the creature. The wind began to pick up, twirling around me. I could feel a force pressing down upon my shoulders, trying to bend not only my body but my resolve. The air became colder as the pressure increased again. Then again. Still, I refused to bend. ¡°You have your answer, creature!¡± I let out a gasp as the pressure lessened, not even realizing I had been holding my breath. The creature looked from its perch with empty eyes and a permanent, skeletal grin. Its cloak pressed tight against empty bone as it rose and fluttered, stretching far behind the creature likes Death¡¯s battle standard. ¡°The catalyst requires blood, I can give you naught without. My freedom is a simple matter, I desire to be set upon the world, but we are bound. Let my eyes follow your path and my talons strike your foes. Your allies need not fear my wrath, for I shall temper my nature in friendly garb.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°You can have your freedom, but I will banish you right back to this void if you so much as give me an inkling you might harm anyone I don¡¯t tell you to.¡± ¡°A mercenary life, then? It shall be as you say,¡± the creature fell to its knee as if pledging service to a king, ¡°I shall heed your call and spare your allies.¡± ¡°Then we have a deal.¡± As I said the final words a knife appeared in my hand. I slowly drew it across my palm, holding in a wince. I flung my palm out, casting drops of blood at the creature.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. ¡°Take my blood then and fulfill your part of the bargain.¡± ¡°Gladly.¡± *** The sun was beginning to come up. It painted the world in more natural light, drowning out the unnerving blues and purples that had lit the night. I stood outside the gates of New Charleston waiting for the others to arrive. Catayla and Pat had been waiting since long before I arrived, and Tiller had arrived with Rachel Pickman only a short time later. It wasn¡¯t long before a group of three guards walked out from the gate, led by Worthy the Witcher Wannabe. His red mohawk was now combed down over one side of his head, leaving the other side bare. The two guards following him wore a combination of scavenged tactical gear, sports equipment, and leather padding. I recognized one of the guards from the bridge, a blonde Amazonian woman wearing football pads with a club nearly as tall as she was strapped to her back with a looped hemp rope. ¡°How ya doing, Sam,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s Worthy, motherfucker. And don¡¯t forget it.¡± He had the casual arrogance and posture that seemed to say ¡®hey, look at me¡¯ as if he believed everyone was here just to worship him. I suspected that many, those like him, were secretly glad for the apocalypse, as it allowed them to get away with bullying and pushing their physical superiority onto others. Some might not like such attitudes, but I understood that sometimes that is the exact kind of guy you need in a rough situation ¨C if you can keep him pointed in the right direction. Shouldn¡¯t be hard with literal monsters trying to tear us apart. ¡°Alright, Worthy,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s the plan? You in charge?¡± ¡°Of you, damn straight. Right now, we listen to Boss Lady over there.¡± Worthy craned his head slightly to the side to indicate where Pat was standing. Pat had walked forward as I spoke with Worthy. The crowd naturally formed into a half circle splayed out before her. She was wearing an eggshell-white pantsuit with a thin black tie. Her hair had been done up into a bun with a pair of chopsticks. Her posture and gentle voice gave her an air of quiet competence. ¡°That should be everyone, yes?¡± said Pat. ¡°Catayla will lead this mission, you are all on loan to her ¡ª do you understand?¡± A low murmur of assent rose up from all of us before she continued. I noticed a few cold glances cast towards Catayla. Worthy, in particular, did not seem happy. ¡°Good, your immediate task will be to break the siege at the Ravenel Bridge and secure a path of retreat for the guards currently stationed there. Once you have successfully held the bridge, Catayla will lead you on a scouting mission to make contact with whatever remains of her people, the Peacekeepers. Any questions?¡± ¡°Are we you still planning on blowing the bridge behind us?¡± Asked Tiller. ¡°Without it, we may not have a way to retreat.¡± ¡°It has become untenable, Captain made the call. We can¡¯t hold the bridge any longer. You¡¯ll have to find your own way back. If you find the Peacekeepers, our hope is that they will be able to assist your return. If not? Get creative.¡± ¡°And the people here?¡± Said Rachel Pickman. ¡°Aren¡¯t those monsters going to come straight here once the bridge is lost?¡± ¡°Perhaps, but it will slow them down and we are much better equipped to deal with a siege here. Our walls will hold. You do your jobs and we will do ours.¡± She gave us each a careful gaze making sure to make eye contact. Her eyes were green and strangely intense. She seemed to be looking at something more, something beyond what just her eyes could see. ¡°Now, no more arguments. Sun is already up, and you know what you have to do.¡± We lined up, with Worthy¡¯s group taking the lead while Catayla disappearing to scout ahead. Tiller, Rachel, and I grouped together and hung back slightly from Worthy and his group. Better to let the meat shields go first. We walked for about fifteen minutes without anyone speaking. The terrain changing effects prevalent further east were starting to take hold here as well. We climbed up a road that had once slopped downward. The pavement was splintered and broken with weeds and small trees beginning to grow between the cracks. As we crested the hill Rachel stopped to catch her breath and pulled out a clear blue water bottle. ¡°Anyone need any of this?¡± ¡°Brought our own, thanks,¡± said Tiller reaching for his own canteen. ¡°So,¡± said Rachel. ¡°What¡¯s up with the bird? Some kind of familiar? You a witch, Finn?¡± The bird perched on my shoulder screeched and regarded the girl with pitch black eyes. Its feathers were blue-grey with a white band around its neck and a striped tail. Tufts of dark plumage crowned its head. ¡°It¡¯s a belted kingfisher,¡± said Tiller. ¡°Bigger than most, but the crest and the band around its neck are unmistakable. Notice the white belly, with no chestnut coloring? That and the higher crest means it¡¯s a male.¡± Tiller kept on like this for the next minute or two while Rachel and I shared a look. Sighing, I set my hand on Tiller¡¯s shoulder to get his attention. ¡°Look, man, I knew you were a nerd. But birdwatching?¡± Tiller looked slightly embarrassed but quickly straightened himself. I met Rachel¡¯s gaze as a throaty laugh escaped her control. It soon joined in. Tiller just ignored us and kept walking. ¡°My gram was a birder, took me along sometimes. Besides, There¡¯s nothing wrong with ornithology. It is a rich and respected field.¡± ¡°Alright, nerd,¡± said Rachel. ¡°You never let him answer my question. This your familiar?¡± She reached out to poke the bird with her index finger. I caught her hand, holding it in my own. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t touch him. He¡¯s much more dangerous than he looks.¡± ¡°Okay, okay, I get it,¡± she said. ¡°Can I get my hand back now?¡± She lifted one eyebrow but made no move to pull away. ¡°Sorry,¡± I whispered as I dropped her hand. ¡°Just don¡¯t provoke it okay? It¡¯s not really my familiar, but I guess that is a close enough analogy.¡± ¡°Well, he¡¯s cute,¡± said Rachel. ¡°He got a name?¡± ¡°A few, but don¡¯t get him started. He¡¯ll go all day.¡± Rachel and Tiller gave me a confused look before Worthy called for us to keep moving. It wasn¡¯t long before we reached the top of another hill, and the bridge came into sight. Chapter 20: Conflict on the Bridge Roots and undergrowth poked through what had previously been level roads and smooth sidewalks. I¡¯d walked these streets before and what had once been a casual half-hour stroll, now took hours of tireless effort. Collapsed buildings, pushed aside by hills and growing trees, now spilled their contents from broken walls and shattered glass. Designer clothes and bags laid in piles like unwanted refuse. A thick growth of vegetation covered everything in green while threating to bury what few landmarks I remembered. Trees and cliffs towered over the horizon, where once the tallest object had been a church steeple. The Charleston that I knew was lost. I was among the few of her citizens to remain. As we crested each hill the bridge would come into sight, only to disappear as we climbed down the other side. Catayla had appeared, in her usual silent fashion, just as we reached the top of one such overlook. The bridge was close, and only a final descent down a winding trail remained. I felt my breathing increase and my hands clench as I looked at the far side of the long suspension bridge. Thousands of beasts were charging through barricades as they merged into an ocean of flesh. Individual forms were lost among the hoard. The roar of thousands of voices crying out together was interrupted only by the echoing barks of gunfire. Despite the difficulty in picking out individuals, some among the horde were large enough to stand out. Among the wash of bodies could be seen massive humanoid with odd proportions ¡ª bulbous heads, overlong limbs, and twisted bodies. They were nude or wore simple furs. Behind them, they dragged trees and telephone poles as if they were clubs. Also, among the horde were beasts of fantastic size that would dwarf their common cousins. Other, stranger creatures were harder to describe and had no common animal with which to compare. One such beast seemed to be a massive ball of eyes and tentacles set among rubbery, wrinkled skin. The sky above the battlefield was nearly as full as the ground below. Forms too far away and packed to densely to be clearly seen blackened the sky, like storm clouds full of twisting shadows and the occasional glimpse of fang and talon. ¡°Tiller,¡± I said. ¡°Can you make out anything useful? What about those birds up there?¡± I was relying on Tiller¡¯s Reaction and Perception heavy build. It made sense that Perception would increase his vision, but I¡¯d never really asked him about it in detail. He had once tried to show off his stats by shooting the wings off a mutated fly the size of a mouse¡ª I must admit that what was left after his attempt had been wingless. ¡°Dinosaurs,¡± Said Tiller. ¡°Pterodactyls with gold and red feathered wings and scaled bodies. It¡¯s really quite amazing¡­¡± ¡°I get it, Tiller,¡± I said. ¡°We can both nerd out together when our lives aren¡¯t in danger and we don¡¯t have a horde of demons to fend off. Now. Focus. What are the birds¡­ I mean dinosaurs. Tell me what they¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± he said shaking his head. ¡°I mean they are circling, obviously, but they are not fighting. Some are breaking away from the group and fleeing, but they aren¡¯t attacking. They may be scavengers.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it,¡± said Rachel. ¡°Whatever has them spooked is something we should stay away from. There must be hundreds of those things, thousands! Yet here we are moseying on in like it¡¯s a day at the park.¡± ¡°More like moseying into the Alamo,¡± said Tiller. ¡°You wanted to be here,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s too late to back out now. Besides, those are our people on that bridge. We need to get down there and find a way to punch our way through or at the very least cover their retreat.¡± ¡°Look,¡± said the tall amazon with the ridiculously oversized club. ¡°None of us want to be here, but it needs doing. Besides, I¡¯ve got friends on that bridge. There is no way we are leaving them alone to die.¡± ¡°Bridgette¡¯s right,¡± said Worthy. ¡°Those are my friends out there and I¡¯m not letting them go out without taking out as many of those monster bastards as I can. Plus ¡­¡± Worthy smiled as he looked towards the blonde Amazon, ¡°Bridgette and I had a little wager and I¡¯m not letting her back out now.¡± Bridgette glared at Worthy but said nothing. The rest of us exchanged glances but made no move to do anything despite our tough words. The numbers were overwhelming, possibly in the hundreds of thousands. The bridge funneled them into more manageable numbers, but the covered its length like ants swarming a rotting log. It was Worthy, of all people, that started moving first. He spit before signaling his companions to follow with a simple grunt. The rest of us were not too far behind. Crossing the bridge required going up a ramp and climbing over several makeshift barriers of stacked cars and debris, but we covered the ground quickly. The sound of gunfire and the roar of voices, both human and otherwise, slowly began to drown out my ability to pick out individual sounds. My other senses were obscured as well, smoke and the smell of burning hair nearly overwhelmed me for a moment. It was disorienting and isolating in a way that made my heart begin to race and my hands shake. It wasn¡¯t long before I was met with a close-up view of the battle. The defenders had fallen back to a secondary barrier about halfway down the bridge. This focused the stampeding monsters into a narrow area creating a ¡®kill zone¡¯ where the defenders were able to concentrate their ranged fire. Despite the advantage this gave to the defenders, most of the guards had abandoned their rifles. The guns still firing had blue lines tracing the trajectory of their shots, much like Tiller¡¯s guns did when he was using mana rounds instead of physical bullets.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Worthy and his two companions immediately ran to the top of the barricade and began shooting. Catayla quickly disappeared again as she shimmied up one of the bridge¡¯s suspension wires. It didn¡¯t take her long to find a perch on a cross beam and begin to rain death upon the horde of monsters. The rest of us were slower, but not by much. I stepped onto the hood of a car before jumping off it and landing on the top of a three-car high barricade. Jesus, it felt good. Even with all the danger around me, I reveled in my new strength. Might had only increased by 3 points, but my body weight had stayed the same. This, combined with the multiplicative effects of physical training, made me feel like a superhero. I began raining down Arcane Missiles. The self-correcting orbs allowed me to minimize my time aiming, and it was one of my most mana efficient spells. I would activate Analyze sparingly to pick out the strongest, or at least the highest level, monsters. I focused my spells on bringing them down so the others could take down the cannon fodder that were threatening to overtake us through sheer numbers. Tiller was close behind me when he began firing his revolver. He quickly began to match my targets, switching his aim only to take down anything that came close to our barricade. His speed and ability to quickly change targets with almost no time lost aiming made Tiller a whirlwind of death. He quickly caught up to and surpassed me in number of kills. Tiller could probably keep up his barrage for an extended period, but I knew I could not. My mana was quickly being depleted and its recharge time seemed was too slow to be effective in battle. Simply gaining enough mana for a single cast of Arcane Missile took more than a minute. We were vastly outnumbered and any monsters I took out were quickly replaced, often with stronger, uglier beasts. I looked out over the battlefield trying to pick out the best targets. I needed to find a general, something that was commanding the rest or at least something that they all feared more than charging into the meat grinder the bridge defenders and I were creating. These weaker monsters were spooked already, perhaps if we could take out the strongest among them we could weaken their resolve ¨C maybe even cause them to break and withdraw. It was clear they were not working together in an organized way. They were more stampede than an army. I finally calmed down enough to slow my racing thoughts and concentrate, taking a deep breath I tried to take in the whole battlefield and understand what was happening. What was coming at us, and what resources did our side have? Despite our lack of numbers, the group of bridge guards had some impressive abilities. Someone had conjured a golem made of concrete and rebar that was smashing its way through tiny humanoids that had blue skin and furry shoulders. The golem would strike out with giant sledgehammer-like fists and send the tiny creatures flying. They would swarm the concrete and steel juggernaut, but it would quickly shake them off or flatten them against its own body with a massive concrete palm. The construct would occasional reach into its own chest and pull forth a boulder that really should have significantly lessened its mass, and yet somehow didn¡¯t. Rather than toss the boulders the creature would then roll them, literally bowling through the horde of fiends. As the stones came to a stop under the weight of crushed bodies they would provide additional cover and create another obstacle for the approaching horde of beasts and monsters. A man in a long coat and fedora was shooting red beams from his palms that would set anything they touched on fire. Between spells, he waved his arms and contorted his fingers in complicated and exaggerated motions that I was sure were unnecessary. Despite his theatrics and bad fashion sense, his attacks were quite effective. He would sweep his beam across the attackers, setting as many as half a dozen aflame every few seconds. A large man with a fire axe had jumped down in front of the barricade and was hacking apart anything that managed to make it that far. I watched as a wolf the size of a jeep charged down the middle of the bridge and tried to leap over the barricade. The man with the axe twisted his body sending his blade into an uppercut-like slash that sent the dire wolf flying back. It tumbled head over feet as its entrails spilled out upon the ground. There were less than a dozen guards, and yet they were holding back thousands. It was awe inspiring to watch them and to imagine what they must have gone through to last this long. The pile of bodies had become so thick at some points that they were tumbling over the railing into the water below. I yelled commands to my Dark Companion, still in its kingfisher form, to fly through the battlefield and find anything that resembled a leader. Despite the noise and distraction, it was able to understand me ¡ª perhaps due to our mental bond. The creature immediately turned into a haze of gray feathers as it darted through the air. Rather than fly overhead the Fisher chose to cut through monsters like a bullet, leaving bird sized holes in anything in its path. It didn¡¯t tarry or search but seemed to be heading in a straight line towards the far end of the bridge. I ignored the bird and began to look around. One of my companions was missing. ¡°Rachel,¡± I called out. I yelled again, but my voice was lost in the cacophony of battle. I immediately regretted sending out my dark companion without first making sure I had accounted for all my teammates. It was a mistake I vowed to learn from. ¡°Tiller,¡± I yelled grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. He fired into the horde twice, but then lowered his aim and bent his ear towards me. His increased perception allowing him to hear my voice through the deafening roar of battle. ¡°Find Rachel,¡± I said. He looked back at the battlefield beneath us, but then nodded once and jumped down in the direction we had come from. I trusted him to find her faster than I could, and I didn¡¯t want him following me for what I had planned. I was running out of mana, but the eldritch energy was thick around me, I could feel it rolling off the bodies of the slain monsters and coagulating into thick clouds around the human combatants. The knuckles on my left hand turned white as my fingers wrapped around my staff, it slowly extended to its full length as I pulled it from the loop on my belt. I carefully began to draw the dark, eldritch energy into one end of the staff. A long, curved blade slowly grew from the tip, giving my staff the appearance of a scythe surrounded by black mist and crackling bolts of red energy. The chain that had been coiled around my right arm began to unwind as I slowly fed the dark energy into it. Thick, black thorns grew from the chain links as tiny specks of red energy formed at the ends of the razor-sharp barbs. I struck out with the scythe as the chain spun like a living bramble turned into a vortex of metal and blood. Blood ran down my hand as bodies pressed in around me. Chapter 21: Song of Battle With every swing of my blade, I would feel the eldritch energy respond, both in myself and in those around me. The energy flowed from wounds and bled from the dead like black ichor. It stained the air like splashes of ink in water, even as blood flowed stained my boots in crimson. I could see the energy, the eldritch, as it spread and flowed throughout the bodies of my foes. It would take on a pattern vaguely reminiscent of a circulatory system ¨C thick streams endlessly splitting into smaller and smaller capillaries that reached and nourished every cell. It did not replace flesh or blood, instead mixing with them both to corrupt and strengthen. As the beasts died the energy would leak into the air thickening and adding movement to the dense energy in which the battlefield was awash. I could reach out and manipulate this energy, once it was loose upon the breeze. I could feel the energy in each beast, even get a sense of its shape and flavor, but I couldn¡¯t grasp it while still inside living flesh. When I tried it was like attempting to catch air between my fingers. Each creature had its own unique ¡®signature,¡¯ I believed with time I could learn to tell individuals apart by the unique shape, feel, and color of the eldritch energy that flowed through their veins. Claws raked across my back tearing long gashes in my jacket. I screamed as I swung my scythe behind me. A hairy creature, with one arm that was twice as long as the other, twisted and dodged my attack even as it cut through several of the small goblins that crowded me. I smiled as the spiked chain caught the creature¡¯s leg. It tripped to the ground and the chain spun around the limb until it was severed. Already, I had turned my attention back to my other opponents. A pack of mastiff sized wolves had begun to surround me, and I was constantly being harassed by three-foot goblins that would stab and slash at my legs. I was still only a few meters from the barricade, despite the exhaustion in my limbs and the feeling of having fought for hours. I had planned to move the fight further away from the barricade, to lessen the pressure on the defenders. I could detect the sound of battle to my right, and gunfire coming from behind me. If they continued to fight, I would stand beside them. It was a vaguely heroic thought that I quickly pushed down, focusing again on my own actions. I wouldn¡¯t become a martyr, I still had things to do. The curved blade of the scythe flashed and seemed to strengthen as it cut through a fanged skull. Each foe I killed seemed to strengthen the phantom blade as if it were being nourished and sharpened through battle. I used the chain mostly defensively, keeping it spinning in front of me like a shield or flinging about me to push back the horde when it grew to close. It cut through bone, beak, and talon as easily as it did flesh. Despite this, countless blows had still made it through my defense. I was covered in bruises and had a long gash down my left cheek. For each attack the chain deflected, as many as three would make it through ¡ª a stinger to the stomach, slashes across my chest, or the pounding of fists upon my back. My arcane shield still stopped these attacks at first, but I had spent too much mana when I was still attacking from the wall. I could feel my blows slowing and landing with less force as my stamina was gradually depleted. I had no choice but to retreat towards the barricade, slashing out wildly around me to keep my enemies at bay. My scythe cut through a clawed hand as the chain severed the forelegs of a wolf. Small bolts struck my stomach and shoulder. I could feel thick bruises forming, even through the Peacekeeper jumpsuit I still wore. The chain shot forward twice, and two goblins fell to the ground with bullet-sized holes in the center of their skulls. A leaped forward to impale a charging kobold with the blade of my scythe. Something collided with my back. The spiked chain spun around my body and with a flick, a severed hand grasping a wooden club fell to the ground. I turned and found more forms approaching from behind. I had let myself get carried too far forward, and yet in that instant of mindless rage, I gained a deeper insight. I saw a thread of energy flowing between each creature, the same energy that flowed through my blade. Through me. My connection to the eldritch energy was beginning to wane, but the brief experience had given me a greater understanding of just how interconnected the system and the eldritch lifeforms were. I could feel the energy in my own body, not like a series of capillaries but as a sphere of densely packed runes and shapes that defined my skills and feats. It was too tightly packed to make out any details, but I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this ball of energy was the source of my current power. This realization didn¡¯t help to strengthen my weakening arms or to replenish my nearly depleted mana. I no longer retreated towards the barricade, I charged. Scythe and chain worked together to mow down green flesh and brown fur like weeds under a harvester. I could feel them slowly closing in from behind, the vibration of their charge carrying through the pavement beneath my feet. As I reached the barricade I turned and planted my feet. Scythe and chain spun as blade severed limbs and sharp thorns tore at flesh. I killed dozens of beasts of all shape. In front of me stretched hundreds of foes, thousands, each waiting eagerly to take the place of those I slew. I¡¯m not sure how long I held out like that, but my Stamina was almost completely drained when the mandible of an oversized insect clamped down on my thigh. My leg exploded with pain as I fell to one knee. I removed the head of the giant ant with the chain as I used the base of my staff to pry open the jaw.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. No blood, the limb seemed intact. The armored jumpsuit had taken most of the force, I sighed in relief. The headless body stood and began to thrash wildly. ¡°Stay dead you piece of ¡­¡± I yelled. I impaled it with the scythe blade, but the creature was not slowed. I swung my chain around in a circle and it wrapped around six chitinous legs and the giant bug began to fall. Something hard struck me from behind, launching me into the barricade. Thin metal crumpled and groaned as I struck it. I shook my head as I looked down at the swimming ground. I was laying prone, nothing but slick concrete beneath my face. My entire body ached, and my Stamina was still almost completely drained. It would take more than five seconds to regenerate a single point, hardly useful in the quick pace of a battle. Already I could feel a shadow of another attacker growing over me. My staff, now out of reach, had reverted back to a simple weapon of steel and wood ¡ª the blade evaporated into thin strings of twisting energy. The chain continued to fight independently of my will, but the black spikes were beginning to dull and fade. I pressed my arms into the hard ground and pushed myself up, but I only managed to turn myself onto my side. A dozen insects, each the size of a Doberman, were charging towards me, some on stick-like legs and others on shimmering, translucent wings. I managed to kick out as the first insect reached me, sending it flying back with a sickening crack. Two more, and then a third. They latched onto me before I could fight back. The first two were clamping down on my legs while the third was attempting to impale my neck with its long, spear-like mandibles. I grabbed onto each mandible, one with each hand, and tried to force the creature off of me. I twisted and pushed as it fought back, pitting six legs against two weak and flagging arms. I was successful at first and the creature¡¯s head was gradually pushed back, even as my arms began to shake. I felt weaker with each second. I might have succeeded in dislodging the overgrown arthropod, but I felt my ankle snap as one of the other two insects clamped down tighter upon my leg. The flood of pain destroyed my concentration and the mandibles I had been struggling against slipped from my grasp. The razor-sharp tips of the jaws barely missed me as they sank into barricade behind me. It was momentarily pinned as it tried to pull its jaws out of the impaled steel. With both arms, I began to beat the head and thorax of the bug with wide and unaimed swings until my fists began to bleed and the creature lay dead. I felt relief and then agonizing pain. The bug that had snapped my ankle was pulling at my feet even as I felt the other set of jaws dug deeper into my thigh. I gritted my teeth and screamed as my face twisted in agony. Throughout the fight, my mana had been regenerating, but terribly slowly. I had only a few points left, barely enough for a single spell. I aimed my hand and began to activate Arcane Missile. I¡¯ll still have the other ant, I thought. Instead, I activated Arcane Shield, and for a fleeting fraction of a second, the jaws of the creatures were forced open as the shield created an impenetrable barrier around me. I kicked out, pushing them both away as I threw the body of their dead comrade at the one still trying to sever my shattered ankle. I rolled to the side and wrapped my fingers around my staff, swinging it behind me. It collided with a crunch, and one of the ants began to scream in an earsplittingly high pitch. It was that screaming that saved me as it had finally drawn the attention of my allies. The red and silver head of an axe bit into the neck of the insect pulling at my leg while two well-aimed bullets from on unseen shooter liquified the head of the other. The man with the fire axe planted one foot on the side of the creature and pulled his axe free before extending a hand to pull me up. I grabbed his arm and accepted his help while avoiding putting any weight on my shattered ankle. ¡°You alright?¡± he screamed above the booming sounds of battle. I nodded my head a few times to let him know I was okay. I was too exhausted to speak, and my throat was raw from screaming. I barely had the energy to hold my head up. The man walked me to the barricade and waited for me to begin climbing back up before he charged back into the battle. My tired arms carried me up about halfway before I began to slip. A dark hand shot out to grab mine and helped pull me atop the pile of cars, wood, and metal. Tiller stood there, still firing one-handed even as he pulled me up with his other. Next to him stood Rachel, with tears and trails of dark mascara staining her face. As Tiller finished pulling me up Rachel placed my arm around her shoulders and helped me move down to the other side. She set me down on the hood of a car, probably the same one I had leaped from earlier. Before she left Rachel looked down and smiled slightly. I couldn¡¯t make out the words, but she said something to me before sprinting back up to the top of the barricade. As I watched her go I regretted my part in bringing her here. It had been my idea to bring her, even Tiller and the girl¡¯s own father voicing objections. Now, she was scared and would probably die at the hands of some vicious beast. What would she be doing if none of this had happened? I wondered. It was a silly thing to wonder about. This was the reality we all faced. The truth was that I, along with everyone else on the bridge, was probably going to die. I could only take responsibility for that one death though, so I regretted it. Hopefully Troy and Liv were okay. And Mom. As I looked up I could see Tiller, still firing his revolver while Rachel stood next to him. She was staring blankly at the battle beneath her. I saw her stand taller and straighten, she looked down at me and smiled, just for a moment, before looking away again. In that brief moment of eye contact, I could see her fear evaporate- her eyes narrowed, and her jaw set in determination. She did the last thing anyone would expect on a battlefield where men and women fought for their very lives against eldritch abominations. She began to sing. It began softly before gradually picking up speed. The song was eventually joined by the crash of a cymbal and the slow steady tapping of a bass drum. As the lyrics drifted over me the sounds of battle were forgotten and I was lost in the melody and rhythm. I could hear her voice, clear and pure, and it seemed to be singing just for me. Everyone, no matter which side of the battle they fought on, stopped for just a moment. Then the song increased in speed and the two sides crashed together in combat once more. It wasn¡¯t a battle song or some uplifting piece of classical music. Rachel sang a punk anthem, a song of youthful rebellion and independence. As her voice belted out I heard a guitar and a horn join, though it seemed impossible for them to exist. As she reached the chorus a surge of vitality seeped into my limbs. I could feel myself getting stronger and my stamina replenishing with each beat. Maybe we can get out of this, after all, I thought. Chapter 22: Gift of Madness The music reached a crescendo, quickly becoming faster and louder with each beat. The sounds of battle were now faint, almost an afterthought. Subsumed but not gone. The clang of blades and the pounding of flesh kept time with the rhythm, while the cracks of gunfire faded into gentle susurrus even as they increased in frequency. It was a frantic kind of harmony. The violence and the cacophony of battle blended together to make something beautiful and lasting ¨Corder from chaos. In addition to refreshing my stamina, the melody calmed my mind, giving me clarity and focus. Dozens of status updates and alerts had popped up showing my gains from the fight, cluttering my view. New skills, skill levels, feats - I scanned and then dismissed them all. None of them would help me with what I needed to do next. I had to use what he had given me. The eldritch energy swarmed around me like a cyclone, heavy and viscid. I could feel it pouring into me, and into my allies. It bled from the slain. It nourished my skills, causing them to grow larger and to gain new clarity. This allowed me to make out vague outlines of runes and arcane symbols from the tightly bound sphere in my chest. I could see the thick energy flow in, then be filtered into something lighter and more homogenous. It was weaker yet lacked the chaotic specks and pollutants that made up the rawer form of the energy. The greatest share of the dark energy swarming into me avoided this sphere, instead aiming for an object secured in an inner pocket of my leather jacket. I could feel the item nearly overflowing with power as it sucked dry the energy around it. It felt like it could burst at any moment, like a pocket-sized nuclear reactor. I reached into my jacket, ripping loose the threads that I had used to sew the pocket shut. With a shaking hand, I pulled out a long and narrow crystal. Its numerous facets sparkled in the fading light. It was as clear as glass but at its center was a tiny raging storm of black clouds and red, forking lightning. The Fisher Man, my dark companion, had called it a catalyst. It was like a seed, or a cocoon, from which could grow potential, possibilities. Power. The gem had gorged and grown large on the XP and energy that poured into me from the slain monsters. The crystal ate with glee and gluttony, never satiated. I could feel it pulling at me, at the energy around me. It needed to be unleashed, lest it consumes itself and all around me. This would be my greatest leap of faith yet. It could give me a class, grant me strength. All I had to do was trust. Trust the bit of madness left behind in my mind by an ancient and unknowable evil. I had given blood, and I would need to give more if the contract was to be fulfilled. It was an impossible trust to give, and yet what choice did I have? The barricade would quickly be overrun, and my friends and allies would die. I was useless, and crippled ¨C one foot held together only by torn ligament and bloodied flesh. I needed to survive, to become more powerful. I still needed to find my family - my mother, Liv, and Troy at the very least. I was willing to take the risk. I had to trust that what remained of me would be enough. In addition to the two feats and two skills required by Soul Forging, the catalyst required a sacrifice. This ability would make up the core of my new class, though changed and flavored by the other skills and feats I would need to contribute. The sacrifice would be the defining characteristic of what I would become. It wasn¡¯t a hard decision, what feat to choose to represent the heart of my future power. The Reactive Adaptability feat sounded great on paper, and yet it was erratic and hard to trigger. My past experience convinced me that the feat would only activate if I had been brought to the brink of death. It was a safety net, useless unless I had already failed. ¡°Fisher,¡± I said. ¡°Do it now!¡± I called out to the companion as I willed the crystal to consume the feat, to take it as its core. Through our bond, I could feel the Fisher light up with glee. I glimpsed a mental image of the bird. It hummed with joy as it crushed an eye, still bloody and trailing a thick cord of optic nerves, between its beak. The catalyst floated up above me, seeming to stare down at me as I lay helpless on the hood of an old, rusted car. The crystal hovered for a moment, then faster than my eye could track it plunged into my chest. No wound was left behind, but I could feel the crystalslide through flesh and divide bone. It hummed and began to grow warm.The catalyst had found the heart of the strange sphere of energy in my chest, and it called out for more.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. I willed it to consume Eldritch Manipulation and Reactive Learning, the Fisher aiding me unseen. One feat, one skill: one of each to go. The gem began to rotate within me, its gravitational force increasing. I felt as if I would implode, and my ribs were bent inward. The chosen feats and skills took on physical forms like glowing runes and began to rotate within and around the crystal, matching its pace and expanding outward. I felt them explode outward in a burst of light, before being drawn back in. There were two competing energies pushing the abilities together and pulling them apart. Something wanted me to fail. I could feel the energy rebelling, the abilities were fighting against being consumed. The sphere was holding on to them, trying to exert its own force to repel the consumption of the gem. It was successful for a moment, the shapes that represented my abilities gradually slowed their descent and even reversed course for the briefest of moments. I felt the Fisher in my mind and coldness came over my body, seeping deep into the growing heat in my chest. The crystal reversed the direction of its rotation, moving even faster. A whirlwind of black and crimson energy coursed throughout my body. I could feel my skin crack and my eyes become dry and irritated. I bled from my nose and ears. Each cell seemed to be under stress as if I was being torn apart. Disintegrated. I willed the abilities into the crystal, hoping to expedite the process. My efforts proved to cause even more pain as my entire body spasmed. It was enough, however, as the skills plunged into the crystal, causing the storm to settle and solidify into black and red speck surrounded by four glowing runes. The crystal expanded until it was an oblong sphere of dark grey, black mist and red lighting swirling around it. It was nearly as large as the original sphere that held my skills and feats. If it consumed more it would become a perfect sphere that was larger and surrounded the original globe of energy. The arcane symbols began to twist once more, faster this time. I could feel my chest begin to pull inward again and my ribs began to crack. I screamed almost giving into the pain. My body was quickly losing strength. My vision became blurry and began to narrow. I almost lost to pain and despair, but a voice pulled me back. It was pure and loud, it spoke of fighting against the world, of independence, and rejecting those who tried to oppress you. It called out to fight the world just for the chance to be yourself. It was a song sung without care, reveling in itself because it could. It pulled me back, and with a final push of effort I called out for the catalyst to take the final two abilities. It was Madness. The catalyst began to draw in Autodidact and Mana Manipulation. As the abilities were tearing free, slowly being drug down into the crystal ¨C I could feel the excitement and anticipation of my dark companion, the Fisher. The image of the companion, still in kingfisher form, invaded my mind. It was attacking a creature made up of thousands of eyes hidden between folds of thick rubbery skin. Tentacles, each with a cluster of eyes at the end, struck out wildly but the bird was too fast and was constantly pecking out eyes and eating them, even as it tore through tentacle and flesh with its talons. It wanted me to create this class, I could feel its anticipation and joy. These were the abilities it had suggested to me, the skills, and feats it had sworn would give me a powerful class. It was also the class that would further whatever game my companion was playing. It had called me bait, admitted to me that I was a pawn in its game. A lure to catch some otherworldly prey. Rachel¡¯s voice sang out, once more repeating the chorus and filling my mind with powerful images of rebellion and independence. I wouldn¡¯t play the game of others, I would make at least a small part of this class my own. Perhaps it would make no difference, but it would at least be my own choice. With energy and concentration born of rage, I reached into my chest, pulling back the skills I almost sacrificed. In their place, I pressed Analyze and Dark Companion. I would take more control over this creature, make it a core part of me. Perhaps we would merge, or one of us would become subservient. Either way, I would understand it. Know what it wanted, what it cared about. I didn¡¯t know what would happen, but I could sense the panic and outrage of the creature. It called out to me, it demanded and begged. It pleaded for me to stop, warned me of the danger of this course of action. I stayed my course, a momentary impulse causing me to rebel and filling me with a need to create something of my own. The bird should have been proud, for what greater Madness was there than rebellion born fear and lack of trust? The abilities quickly coalesced within the gem, causing it to grow larger. The facets quickly smoothed and grew more round, until the gem had only a single side. An unblemished ball of grey-red crystal. Within the crystal shell swam the sphere of energy that made up the skills, stats, and feats given to me by the system - no longer packed as tightly. This new crystal shell contained them, but also defined them and protected them by creating a barrier. The whole thing looked vaguely like a galaxy contained within a glass jar. An internal universe full of potential and under my control. I could feel the dark companion scream out in rage. I now had a sense of the creature in the back of my mind. I could feel its immediate intentions, its emotions. I could see what it saw, though not yet know what it was thinking. It was part of me now, perhaps it always had been. I had imagined it as an alien invader, a parasite. That was only part of the truth. Another, greater truth also spoke out in my mind. The truth of what I was, what I could become. The class I had forged from blood, the power I had gained on the cusp of death and betrayal. I accepted it, and it settled around me like a mantle. From this day forward, I was the Hierophant of the Elder Ones- Seer of the Unseen Infinite, Paladin of Madness. Chapter 23: Truth from Madness I could feel the abilities I had sacrificed. They were not gone, but nor could I access them. I could feel them as burning lines that twisted in my chest forming the scaffolding around a crystal sphere of scintillating light. It spun and twisted, constantly changing color and shape as multitudes of imperfections appeared on its surface only to be ironed flat moments later. It was like a living sun, constantly expanding and changing. Was this the power of Madness? To constantly change and reinvent oneself? Perhaps that was madness, and yet it was saner than stagnation ¡ª we now lived in a world that offered only adaptation or death. The crystal orb represented my class. I needed no explanation, it was a part of me and I recognized it. It reacted to my acknowledgment with cords of energy that flowed through the sphere and burst into bright flares on the surface. It called out to me and I could see its desire to grow stronger and larger. It would improve as I did, though there was little difference between us The class was me, or at least the parts of me with strength. Each of my skills and feats swam within its fiery light. No longer were they bound tightly together but spread out in long lines of runes and hieroglyphs that floated freely around the sphere. Those thin chains of symbols seemed almost insignificant. Perhaps one day they would grow large and plentiful enough to cover the surface of the orb, but for now, they covered only a fraction of a percent. It was impressive to look at, but what practical benefits had I gained? I opened my status screen with a thought and held a breath as it flickered into static. Slowly the static took on the familiar blue glow as lines of alien text appeared before me. ¡°Well, shit.¡± What do I do now? I stared at the screen for several seconds. I could see where my stats were lined up, yet I couldn¡¯t decipher the numbers, nor the long string of symbols that took the place of my feats. I sighed, slamming my fists into the hood I was still laying on. The status screen closed. I flexed my limbs experimentally as I sat up. I was still sore, and my ankle was clearly broken but I could feel the mana flowing through my body and the static-like feeling of eldritch as it moved through the air. On a whim, I opened my stats one more time. I might not be able to understand the numbers, but stamina and mana were also represented as bars and I had access to a readout that overlaid my injuries onto an outline of a human form. I could at least evaluate how badly I was hurt. As the screen opened once more I was greeted by the alien text. Just as I was sighing in frustration, the lines began to twist and form into familiar words. Was it as easy as turning it on and off, or had the system read my desire to change the language? I really had to read that manual at some point. Not today, I thought. Now to find out the good stuff. During the battle I had gained skill levels at an incredible rate, even picking up new ones. Something about mortal danger, or perhaps the saturation of eldritch energy in the air, caused skills to level more quickly in combat than they did during training. I¡¯d gained a single point in both Staff Fighting and Defense as well as Pain Tolerance, Arcane Missiles, and Dodge. Even more impressive were the two new skills I had gained, Chain Fighting and Combat Proficiency ¨C each already at the third level. The true gains had come in the form of a new category ¨C Class Features. In return for the three feats and two skills I had sacrificed, I had received four new abilities: a net loss of one. After reading the class description, however, I realized that it really hadn¡¯t been a loss at all. Each class feature was far more powerful than what I had given up, the only thing I really mourned was the lifesaving abilities of Reactive Adaptability. My Perception and Focus had each been increased by three and would continue to increase by one with each new level I gained. Almost as useful, was the increase of five to physical and magical resistances, as well as to a new category ¡ª Mental Resistance. I began to look through the class features more closely, but a blood-curdling wail brought me to my senses. I had forgotten where I was in my excitement. Categorizing my abilities would have to wait until my friends were safe. The problem was that no matter how powerful I felt, it was meaningless If I couldn¡¯t even stand under my own power. My ankle was shattered, and even if I had been able to grit through the pain, it was incapable of supporting my weight. The first of my new class features, however, gave me hope for a solution. It couldn¡¯t heal the ankle, but it could bind it and reinforce it like a plaster cast. I wouldn¡¯t be graceful, but I could walk with the assistance of my staff. I glanced at the description one more time before deciding what to do. Eldritch Mimicry (0/15) ?- The energy of the Old Ones is now yours to command. No longer does it struggle at your touch. It dances in delight as it bends to your whims, taking on any shape that you can imagine ¨C but only for as long as you can hold a clear picture of that form in your mind. This ability can mimic weapons, armor, and even the spells and forms of your allies and enemies. Anything created by this method will be a shadowy illusion of the truth. These shadow illusions are half as strong as the original (50%) plus an additional 2% per skill level.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. It was what eldritch manipulation could have been if taken to its ultimate conclusion. Theoretically, it could copy anything ¡ª even if that copy wasn¡¯t as strong as the original. I would need practice to fully bring this ability into my fighting style, but for now, it was exactly what I needed. At first, I found it difficult to create and focus on a unique design. Instead, I looked to my memories. Thin streams of energy appeared around my foot and shin, quickly weaving around them to create a shadowy outline ¡ª an exact replica, at least in shape, of the plaster cast I had worn as a child after I had broken my leg at summer camp. Awe-inspiring cosmic power? I used it to create a crude brace around my ankle. I stood slowly, still shaking as muscles that had been weakened by fatigue worked against pain and gravity. My legs buckled for a moment and I rolled from the car, my back striking the hard pavement as my limbs spread out around me. As I opened my eyes to look up I made eye contact with Rachel, her face was flush and covered in sweat and running mascara. She had that weary glow of exhaustion that any athlete knows follows a hard-fought game. I realized that she was unable to sing anymore, and yet had still taken the time to check on me. Her song had saved me, perhaps even saved whatever passed for my soul. Her skills had given strength to the others holding the bridge, prolonging all of our lives. No matter how strong the bridge guards had been, or what their level, they would fatigue eventually. With Rachel unable to continue I felt that it was now on my shoulders to do something. It was possible that Tiller or Catayla would have a solution, but I needed to spread my new wings. Metaphorically anyway. Could I? ¡­ not now, focus. I wanted this battle in a way I didn¡¯t fully understand. I needed it in the same way that I needed air to breathe. Something in my soul called out for conquest, and I felt twinges of approval flowing through my bond with the Fisher. I slowly pulled myself back to my feet and began to carefully shuffle towards the barricade. Each step was agony, like molten nails being driving into the marrow of my bones, but my cast and staff were sufficient to support my weight. Only a few minutes prior I had casually leaped to the top of the barricade, but now I was forced to accept Rachel¡¯s help just to climb up. I felt embarrassed as she pulled me up the final few feet, but I quietly whispered ¡°thank you,¡± into her ear. She had gotten me where I needed to be. To my right stood Tiller, sparing only a casual glance and a nod in my direction before turning his attention ¨C and revolver ¨C back to the battle. Looking up I made out the form of Catayla lying prone on a support beam above the bridge, casually raining bullets upon the endlessly attacking masses. Her shots rang out in a constant beat, never missing or failing to kill their target. Beneath me, spread out an army. They had pushed through the other barricades, shoving aside cars and boulders. The stone golem could no longer be seen, a pile of concrete and rebar stood as a testament to its demise. The man with the fire axe, the one who had pulled me from the giant ants, had retreated to the top of the barricade ¡ª his axe still striking at anything foolish enough to get to close. It would be minutes before the defenders were overrun, perhaps sooner. I quickly reached out to the eldritch energy swarming above the battlefield. It leaped at my touch, eager to be shaped and molded into forms of murder. Despite the seemingly limitless shapes the energy could take, I had to be able to understand and clearly visualize what I wanted. Complex machinery was out, as was anything I couldn¡¯t clearly imagine and hold in my mind. Things from my memory were better, as my Intellect stat would help me to visualize them. There was also a limit to the amount of energy I could command at once, and I imagined that there would be some mental fatigue as well. I searched through my memory for a form that was both simple and effective, something that I could form quickly and that would be easy to maintain. My mind quickly switched to memories of the old Civil War forts my father used to love bringing me to. Cannons were too complex, and I doubted I could make something like gunpowder ¡ª but after I dismissed that idea I remembered the old fortifications my father had helped construct before his yearly reenactments. Simple wooden palisades made from sharpened logs lashed together with rope. I knew I could do something similar, it would be impossible to dig a trench, but I could anchor the wall of sharpened posts into the concrete and steel of the bridge itself. I willed the construction into existence, forcing the image onto the thick eldritch energy permeating the battlefield. Thick, sharp logs made of black misty energy grew up in front of the barricade like wild brambles. Posts three to four meters long pointed upwards, angled toward the horde of monsters. It wouldn¡¯t completely stop them, but it would slow them down and buy the group of defenders time. I kept the image in my mind, focusing on the memories it was based on. I could feel a mental drain, but I could handle it. I could still form simple weapons, but it would be difficult to create anything as complex as a spell or further construction. I began to rain down javelins made of the black and crimson eldritch energy. Each projectile would quickly dissolve into smoke as it impaled its target, freeing my mind to concentrate on creating more spears. It was effective but slow. It was relieving some of the pressure on the defenders, but it was not a permanent solution. I needed something bigger, something that could affect the entire horde at once. Of my new Class Features, one stood out as being able to do so, but it was risky. I was hesitant to use such an unpredictable ability without first testing it in a more controlled environment. If I waited, however, I might not ever get that chance. The skill seemed to be a double-edged sword, just as likely to cut me and my allies as it was to hinder my enemies. Eye of Madness (0/10) ?- You have seen the terrifying truth of those that wait in the void. Your connection to the source of this maddening presence allows you to tear back the fabric of reality and see the hidden, terrifying truths that lie beneath. Overuse will burn this terror into your mind, risking your sanity ¡ª skill level and Focus will reduce this risk. Alternate use: You can create an aura around yourself that shares this truth with your enemies, filling their minds with terror and possibly causing them to go berserk. You must confront the truth you share, but your allies will be spared ¨C save those for whom you hold hidden malice. Using the Class Feature¡¯s ability to see the truth seemed dangerous, as an entire army of eldritch abominations was likely to overburden my mind, and my low skill level and Focus meant that I risked permanent madness. I gave that a hard pass, but the alternate use had some potential if the aura didn¡¯t grow too large. It would likely take me out of the fight, but it would also reduce the ability of the monsters to defend themselves and if they started going berserk and attacking their allies? Well, all the better. I closed my eyes, and slowly released madness around me in a vortex of swirling energy that invaded the minds of all it touched. Chapter 24: A Bridge Too Far The Eye of Madness opened. I stood at the center of this vortex of madness. All eyes were drawn towards me as my reality shaped theirs. It was no more than was my due. But was it? Who was I? I was one who saw the truth, a truth my enemies were forced to experience with me. Each of them was nothing more than a tiny extension of something much greater. They were nothing more than a few loose skin cells casually shed without care or notice. All their hunger and rage was meaningless before their true purpose. I saw the birth of planets and great civilizations, only for those civilizations to gradually fade and die, slowly being replaced over time. I saw entire solar systems perish as stars expanded before collapsing into planet destroying supernovas that could be seen from half a universe away. It was awesome in its scale, and terrifying in the realization of how small these events were in the eyes of the universe. I saw the great expanse of time and space, every possible action repeated over and over unendingly. Both the past and future were infinite, and yet more existed beyond these measurements. Other dimensions existed outside of our own, some far older and with native intelligences so alien, powerful, and malignant as to be unfathomable. Then I saw the silent waiting forms for whom these events and creatures were but cosmic specs of dust. The lifespan of our universes was but the blink of an eye compared to these eternal beings. They were terrible and frightening, not because they held malice ¡ª but for the complete lack of regard they held for anything as insignificant as human life. Even entire universes were little more than baubles to be squandered and bartered for the true rulers of the cosmos. Worse than their cold indifference was the chance that one might turn their attention towards you ¡ª a momentary amusement. I saw myself staring into a burning eye called to witness the end of a world. Something stared back. The gaze lasted only for a moment, but events were set into motion that could not be avoided. I saw the true enemy, and I understood the utter insignificance of my own existence. To resist was unavoidable, and yet pointless. *** I felt a strike across my face. ¡°Finn,¡± said a familiar voice laced with sobs. ¡°Snap out of it.¡± I held my hands in front of my face, fingernails dripping with blood. Deep gauges had been dug into my forehead and cheeks, tears and blood ran down my face. My eyes were dry, and my skin felt hot. I tried to answer but could only cough, my throat burning and dry. I breathed in short, shallow bursts while collapsing to my knees in despair. I squeezed my eyes shut as if trying to hold back the images. I couldn¡¯t bear them, and yet I couldn¡¯t forget them. The vision had been permanently burned into my memory ¨C not only unforgettable but unable to be repressed or ignored. ¡°Finn,¡± Rachel¡¯s voice called out to me. ¡°We need to get out of here.¡± I looked up to see Rachel and Tiller standing over me. Someone had carried me down off the barricade and leaned me up against a group of stacked cars. After a few moments, I finally pushed myself up, my legs shaking as Rachel put her shoulder under my arm for support. My conjured cast was completely gone, and in a moment of panic, I realized the palisades I had constructed would be gone as well. ¡°Is everyone okay?¡± I asked. I the sounds of battle had grown even fiercer than before. Screams mixed with the echoing barks of gunfire and the clangs of metal weapons. ¡°I think so,¡± Tiller said. ¡°Whatever you did caused everything to go crazy. Those monsters went berserk, started tearing each other apart. Others charged the barrier, ignoring every injury like they¡¯d gone mad.¡± ¡°Your spiked wall is gone,¡± added Rachel. ¡°A bunch of those ¡­ things, they just mindlessly impaled themselves, but it didn¡¯t take them long to smash through.¡± She looked at me for a moment, peeking out from beneath my arm. She briefly pulled away from before hugging me with arms that barely reached around my chest. ¡°You were babbling and screaming the whole time, I thought something was really wrong with you. I tried singing again, but it didn¡¯t help, and my mana was already almost gone. I¡¯m ¡­ just. I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I smiled. ¡°You saved me more than once today, all of us really.¡± She smiled back releasing me from her bear hug, still leaving one arm under my shoulder to support my weight.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Oh,¡± said Rachel holding one hand up to her chest. ¡°Your bird, Finn, I am so sorry. He¡¯s¡­¡± ¡°Eaten,¡± finished Tiller. ¡°Eaten?¡± I said. I reached out through my connection to the Fisher before saying more. ¡°He¡¯s fine. In fact, whatever ate him is probably having a bit of indigestion right about now.¡± My bond to the dark companion had grown stronger. The creature itself had gotten some fancy new upgrades, as well, due to another of my new class features ¨C Dark Gemini. I wasn¡¯t sure how useful it would be just yet, but the description was promising. Dark Gemini ? - You have gained insight into the true nature of your Dark Companion. It is now truly a part of you, a twin born from your shattered psyche. It can no longer hide from or deceive you, but no longer can you deny it its rightful place in your mind. As long as you live, your Dark Gemini cannot be truly killed. Having absorbed a piece of your adaptability, the Dark Gemini has gained complete control of its form. Furthermore, as the twin to your own soul, you now share a mana pool with your Dark Gemini and it can cast any spell you know. It wasn¡¯t the most impressive of my new abilities, but it did significantly reduce the risk of the creature I had once considered a parasite. The ability to share mana and spells was also potentially powerful. It could double my firepower, even allowing me to focus on melee combat while my twin cast spells. Despite this, I was still hesitant to trust the creature ¡ª even if it did claim to be me. ¡°The defenders can¡¯t hold out much longer,¡± Tiller said. ¡°Catayla is doing something to blow the bridge. We are supposed to fall back and make sure the way is clear so everyone else can haul ass.¡± Tiller seemed more detached than usual. He was hesitant as if he was torn between leaving or staying. He kept glancing back at the battle with a from and he constantly fixed the position of his glances. I couldn¡¯t tell if he wanted to join the battle or if he was just lamenting the loss of a chance to do more research. Rachel, however, had truly surprised me. It didn¡¯t seem like that long ago that I had had to send Tiller to find her as she hid from combat. Black, runny lines of mascara still stained her face. Yet now, she had a certain determination to her. Perhaps she had found her courage during the battle ¡ª or she had found something to fight for. ¡°All right,¡± I said. ¡°I trust Catayla knows what she¡¯s doing.¡± It took me only a moment to reform the cast around my shattered ankle, though it took considerably more effort this time. I suspected constructing anything as large as a palisade would be above my abilities, at least in the short-term. ¡°Did anything get past us?¡± I asked. ¡°The bridge should be pretty much clear in this direction, right?¡± ¡°A big part of the horde broke off to the Northeast, they may cross up there and circle back south. We¡¯re still not sure what those pterodactyls will do. Whatever you did seems not to have affected them, so far. Probably just waiting to feast from the carrion, but I can¡¯t be sure.¡± ¡°Can you walk?¡± asked Rachel. ¡°I¡¯ll manage,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s painful, but I can move on my own.¡± ¡°All right,¡± said Tiller. ¡°When Catayla gives the signal, they¡¯ll be coming for us like a bat out of hell, demons hot on their tails. Literally in this case.¡± We began sprinting back towards the city. It was difficult, but I manage to keep up despite my crippled leg. Under ideal circumstances, I would have been faster than either of them. I had the highest physical stats in the trio. Tiller, however, was able to avoid obstacles with a gymnast like grace that allowed him to easily take the lead. Our run didn¡¯t take long, and we didn¡¯t find any trouble along the way. Slowly, we made our way down the debris-ridden ramp at the end of the bridge and took cover behind the overturned frame of an old sedan. ¡°So, what¡¯s the signal?¡± I asked. ¡°No idea,¡± said Tiller. I looked at Rachel, but she just shook her head to indicate she didn¡¯t know either. ¡°I imagine we¡¯ll know it when we ¡­¡± began Tiller. A bright flash preceded a shockwave and a large plume of smoke. The entire bridge vibrated, but it still held. The groaning of the high-tension wires was followed by deafening cracks as the first wire snapped. The bridge began to sway. ¡°If that¡¯s the signal,¡± said Rachel. ¡°Then I hate to see what the actual explosion is going to look like.¡± ¡°Baddasses never see explosions,¡± said Tiller. ¡°What?¡± Rachel and I said together. ¡°Too busy walking away in slow motion.¡± The groans were left unsaid, but the momentary silence and empty stares communicated our feelings well, I think. ¡°You¡¯ve been holding on to that one for a while, haven¡¯t you?¡± Rachel asked Tiller. ¡°Maybe for a bit ¡­¡± he admitted. ¡°Alright, you guys. Pre-fight banter concluded?¡± I asked. ¡°They¡¯re going to come charging down that ramp at any second and we need to be ready when they do.¡± It wasn¡¯t long before my prediction came true. A dozen bridge guards, Catayla and Worthy leading the way, came rushing down the ramp. Tiller was already firing, not worrying about friendly fire as his shots unerringly flew past fleeing guards to strike the targets behind them. The speed and accuracy of his shots were poetic, some shots came within inches of striking an ally but somehow his bullets always found a path to their intended target. As the group of guards reached us, they split up to take cover. I began to use Arcane Missiles to take out pursuing creatures while Tiller continued to blast everything that came even remotely close to one of our allies. Rachel held a gun at her side but hadn¡¯t started firing. Instead, she was humming a gentle tune that seemed to soothe my aches and cleared my mind. The effects were minor, maybe even a placebo, but it was enough to give me confidence. Rachel never faltered or turned away from the fight. ¡°Everyone down!¡± yelled Catayla. She pulled out a disk that looked exactly like the communication device she had given to me after we first met. I tensed as she pressed down the button in the center of the device. Instead of the high-intensity blast I had braced for, there was a long sequence of pops ¡ª sounding more like fireworks than high-grade demolition charges. Almost immediately, I could hear sharp cracks and the screeching sound of metal on metal. The remaining suspension cables all began to give out at the same time. The bridge collapse into the river beneath it, creating waves that rose up above the narrow beach. A strong wind washed over me bringing with it a cloud of dust and powdered concrete that obscured my vision. ¡°Get ready,¡± I said. ¡°Here they come.¡± Chapter 25: Prodigal Abomination Returns It¡¯s almost peaceful, those still moments before battle. It¡¯s like watching dominos lined up in perfect order, each small rectangle fitting into its perfectly measured place before the world explodes into motion and noise as everything draws to its inevitable conclusion ¡ª entropy in motion. I closed my eyes, visualizing everything that would come. My pulse slowed as I focused on my breathing, reaching out to energy that surrounded me. I exhaled, my eyes opening to a world in motion. The dominos were charging, lining up in perfect lines. They wailed, lashing out with angry roars and the cracking cacophony of claw and steel cutting into concrete. I extended my staff before me, as a thin silver chain unwound from my forearm. Let them come. Was the thought my own, did it matter? The Eye had closed, its heat still burning on my forehead, but a bit of the madness remained. It showed me how each seemingly random motion was an inevitable cascade of preordained events. Nothing mattered, not even the blood I would spill or the pain I saw in my future. It was there, a cloud of darkness hanging over myself ¨C unseeable but felt in vivid hues of agony and defeat. But not today. Today I fought. The small horde charged down a narrow ramp, pushing aside debris and rebar lined holes Several of them stumbled as paw or foot was caught in a pit and the creatures behind refused to stop, pushing and clawing past their comrades. My allies formed around me, waiting for the perfect moment to meet the charge. I could see it play out perfectly ¡­ but I couldn¡¯t wait. My staff crackled with blue energy as a shimmering blade grew from its base and the silver chain shot forward, acting with a mind of its own. Operating on sheer instinct, I used Eldritch Mimicry to copy the Tanglefoot spell. I¡¯d yet to use the spell in a real battle, as it required contact with the earth. The smoky illusions created by Eldritch Mimicry, however, had no such restrictions. It would be weaker than the real thing, but I didn¡¯t need to entangle the beasts, merely tripping them up for a fraction of a second would create openings I could exploit. Thin vines snaked up from the concrete beneath the charging monsters. Each vine was as thick as a thumb, and roughly as long as I was tall. They were smoky black and tinged with red, like embers burning in charcoal. Long, curved barbs grew from each vine, drawing blood as they constricted and pulled at the limbs of anything caught in their grasp. Some part of me marveled at the cruelty and bloodshed such a spell could be used towards. I was snapped back to reality as the creatures tore through the shadowy vines like tissue paper. I had reached the limit of the spell, but I wasn¡¯t finished. I used the spell as the base, it was a template to give shape to what I wanted. It had been nothing more than a shortcut to save me from having to perfectly visualize it in my mind. I took control of the eldritch energy, feeding power into each vine. They grew larger. Thorns bit deeper. The silver chain sawed at snared limbs, encircling the torso of a large wolf-like creature as the chain bound legs and tore at skin with thunderous, whip-like cracks. I had created an impenetrable barrier in the center of the ramp, but the horde simply poured around it like water following the path of least resistance. I had stopped four, and the silver chain had stopped at least another two. It wasn¡¯t enough, but I had succeeded in breaking the charge. The creatures were now more staggered, coming in groups rather than all together. Catayla took out the closest enemies with quick bursts from her rifle. Most of the bridge guards joined her volley, while Worthy and Bridgette ran out to meet the charge head-on. Tiller¡¯s revolver continued its dexterous dance, the crash of gunfire tapping out at a measured pace. Each shot striking an eye, a head, or an exposed throat. Thin wisps of smoke and the smell of cordite filled the air. Just as the first of the creatures drew close to our line, Worthy met them with the steel of his dual swords. He danced and parried through a group of large, green-skinned humanoids. He ended a pirouette with a slice at an ogre¡¯s neck, before dropping into a roll to slash at the ankles of another. The creature roared, followed by the sound of snapping bones. A kick sent Worthy flying into the metal frame of an old car. As worthy slumped to the ground, a club wielded by the Amazonian blond smashed into the creature¡¯s head. A barrage of rifle fire pierced its torso and limbs. It fell dead. Bridgette stood over it, still pounding her club into its head, ignoring its allies as they fell to a deluge of bullets. I held back, trusting in my spells. As enemies would get too close I would blind them with Venom Spray before cutting them down with my glowing blade. Their flesh would sizzle even as the neurotoxin in the venom slowed their movements, leaving weakened flesh to be easily sundered. As the closer enemies were cut down, I switched my focus towards sniping at the seemingly endless reinforcements with Arcane Missiles. When my mana grew low, I switched to conjuring javelins of eldritch energy before tossing them into the horde as I cut down anything that got close. The powerful creatures were nothing but tall grass before my scythe. And then it ended. No more enemies presented themselves, but my heart continued to beat faster and the hairs on the back of my neck tingled in anticipation. The fight couldn¡¯t be over already! I had barely gotten started. How long have I been fighting? I thought, glancing up at the sky.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°That¡¯s¡­.¡± I jumped at the sound of something approaching from behind. Tiller caught my punch, casually deflecting it. His block had started before I had even known I was going to attack. ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± Tiller said. ¡°We¡¯ve won, or at least something that resembles winning.¡± I heard his words. But my body couldn¡¯t process the truth and some part of me still craved the unending battle. Adrenaline filled my veins. I could feel the pumping of my heart and hear it¡¯s deep thump as it reverberated through my mind. My hands shook, and it was difficult to catch my breath. ¡°How many¡­¡± I gasped out. ¡°Did everyone make it?¡± ¡°No,¡± said Tiller. ¡°One of Worthy¡¯s men is dead, and Worthy was badly injured. Four of the guards assigned to the bridge are missing, and three more are injured, luckily the survivors have a few healing skills between them.¡± I looked over at Worthy. He had regained consciousness but was still lying where he had fallen. Next to him knelt Bridgette, her giant club forgotten on the pavement behind her. In her arms, she cradled another man. The way she carried him made him look small, childlike. His eyes had been closed, and his arms and legs dangled uselessly to the side. I had never even learned his name. He had fought, and died, beside me and yet I would never know him. It was a crushing realization. I felt sympathy for Bridgette, as she cried over his shattered body. What memories did she posses of the man, or did she too mourn the loss of the chance to form those bonds? I looked through the rest of the survivors, hoping to find familiar faces. The man who had saved me from having my leg torn off was missing. His tall, lean frame and eye-catching red and silver fire axe were now gone - likely bent and broken, lying under hundreds of tons of rubble. ¡°Is Rachel ...¡± I asked, not needing to say anymore. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she said. She was sitting in the dirt a dozen meters behind me. Her black leather jacket and crisp blue jeans were now torn and stained. She looked tired. Her stare was empty, and she refused to make eye contact. I hobbled over to her, wincing as the adrenaline faded from my system and the pulsing pain of my shattered ankle appeared in full force. Even my makeshift cast of black energy did little to lessen the agony. ¡°Rachel, I¡¯m glad you were here. I¡¯m not sure we could have made it without you. Thank you, I mean it.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t enough. We barely made it out of there. If I hadn¡¯t hesitated, maybe¡­ I just.¡± ¡°Not fair,¡± said Tiller, plopping down into the dirt beside us. ¡°Trained soldiers often break the first time they see combat. The only way to really know how you¡¯ll react is to be there. All the training in the world doesn¡¯t mean a thing without real experience. The fact is that you got back up, you fought.¡± He shook his head a few times before he leaned towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders. ¡°It¡¯s rare as hell,¡± he continued. ¡°To face that kind of fear, have it overtake you and yet you still somehow found the strength to get back in the fight? You¡¯re a fucking hero, Rachel.¡± She looked up at him, but she quickly looked away as her eyes filled with tears. ¡°If no one else,¡± I said. ¡°You saved me. I¡­ almost lost myself for a moment. Your song brought me back, you allowed me to make a choice I couldn¡¯t make alone.¡± She looked over at me and made eye contact for the first time since the battle had begun. She smiled slightly, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. Both of you.¡± That was all we got from her before she turned her eyes downward, lost in contemplation. I wanted to say more, but Tiller caught my gaze and shook his head slightly. We left her alone, perhaps it was what she needed, perhaps not. ¡°You two surprised me,¡± said Catayla. Her ninja-like entrances didn¡¯t surprise me anymore. ¡°All of you did.¡± ¡°Humanity may not be the biggest or the meanest,¡± said Tiller. ¡°But we adapt. We learn to shape our environments and can thrive in almost any extreme.¡± ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± I asked. ¡°The mission is still our primary objective. The only way to know what is going on is to make contact with my superiors. They¡¯ll have the intel, and the weapons, we need to survive. We need to get across this river.¡± ¡°So how do we do that?¡± I asked. Tiller looked at me with a grin, and laughed as he clapped my back. ¡°Finn, I like you but you¡¯re an idiot. I just watched you create a three-meter-high palisade that stretched across four lanes of traffic. You don¡¯t think you can make a boat big enough for five people?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. I looked out over the river, wondering what might lurk underneath. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± said Catayla. ¡°Your new power will prove useful. Perhaps you could tell us how you did that?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I hesitated once more. ¡°I¡¯ve got a new class.¡± ¡°No shit!¡± said Tiller. Catayla didn¡¯t say a word, just watched me silently for a few moments. Her face was a blank mask. ¡°Man, you¡¯re going to have to give me all the details. Right now, though, we need to make a plan. Decide who¡¯s going with us, send word back to New Charleston, let them know about the bridge.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll stick with our remaining five,¡± said Catayla. ¡°The other guards should head back and reinforce the rest of your people. Once these men and woman have rested they¡¯ll likely be among the strongest warriors your people have. Such battles often serve as forges ¡ª not to mention impressive sources of XP.¡± ¡°Hell yeah,¡± said Tiller. ¡°I¡¯m up to level seventeen already. It¡¯s fucking amazing. How about you Finn. You must have been swimming in XP during that battle on the bridge.¡± ¡°Uh, Not really,¡± I said, examining my new stats. ¡°All that experience from the bridge went¡­ elsewhere. I¡¯ve gained three levels since. I¡¯m level six.¡± ¡°Six?¡± said Tiller. ¡°That can¡¯t be right, man. I was sure you were a higher level than me. How about you, Cat?¡± ¡°My name is not Cat,¡± she said, ignoring the rest of Tiller¡¯s question as she turned to walk towards the rest of the group. As Catayla began tending to the injured guards, I felt a soft hand fall onto my shoulder. I turned to find Rachel¡¯s dark eyes staring up at me, thick black lines still staining her pale face. ¡°Are you okay Rach ¡ª¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not going,¡± said Rachel. ¡°I can¡¯t go. It¡¯s terrifying. What¡¯s out there is fucking insane, I just can¡¯t do it. I can¡¯t keep fighting those things.¡± ¡°I know you can,¡± said Tiller. ¡°I just saw you ¡­¡± ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m the one who said we needed her, and we don¡¯t anymore.¡± I pointed across the river towards the rolling mist that was gradually moving towards us. ¡°With my new class, I can protect us from that on my own. We don¡¯t need her. Besides, her power is amplified in large groups. She¡¯ll be much more valuable helping to protect the survivors back at the port.¡± Rachel looked up at me and smiled. ¡°Thank you,¡± she said. ¡°Alright,¡± said Tiller. ¡°So, it¡¯s what, just the four of us?¡± ¡°We can probably ask for a volunteer, or two, but if we take too many I¡¯m not sure I can make a boat big enough. We also need to worry about drawing attention.¡± The sound of gunshots interrupted our conversation. Looking up I could see a twisted abomination beginning to make its way down the exit ramp of the bridge. It was a floating sphere as large as the cab of a semi. Hundreds of eyes and dozens of tentacles were spread out over its body. Its skin was thick and wrinkled like folded leather. A thin coat of hair and mucus were layered over its body. Half of the creature was a scarred mess of charred flesh and burst eyes. Many of its tentacles had been severed or hung limply at its side. It didn¡¯t move, it merely floated in the air, slightly bobbing. A sight for sore eyes. ¡°Hold on,¡± I yelled. ¡°It¡¯s with me.¡± Chapter 26: Smoke on the Water The air was just beginning to clear as a gentle wind rose up behind us, carrying away the smell of smoke and burning rubber. The sun was beginning to set, as small ripples shimmered across the dark surface of the Cooper River. Everything else had become buried in muted hues of grey and brown from the thick cloud of dust created by demolishing the Ravenel bridge. The rubble was still smoldering, releasing plumes of twisting smoke into the blackened sky. The two ends of the bridge were relatively intact, but the middle had completely collapsed. Severed cables hung loosely from a few remaining supports, standing vigil in remembrance of what was lost. It was a testament to what had been, the remnants of our former world now little more than scraps. What remained of our group stood on a rocky beach overlooking the west bank of the river. We were slightly downstream from the ruined bridge, and directly across the river from the USS Yorktown, the old WWII aircraft carrier turned floating museum. We¡¯d had a short service to honor those who had died on the bridge, but a proper memorial would have to be left for later. After this impromptu funeral, the remaining bridge guards had left, Rachel going with them in a bittersweet goodbye. I was happy that at least one of us would return unharmed from what I was beginning to see as a doomed quest. I had no such hope for those of us who continued, least of all myself. I could feel the pressure in the back of my mind, growing, demanding to be let out. I may have made it part of me, but it was yet to be seen how large a part it would become. The fisher, still in its grotesque form, turned towards me. It regarded me with many eyes, and I could feel its amusement and silent judgment. It felt my fear, and yet had none of my misgivings. I could sense a silent confidence through our bond. What would have been has already become, I heard a whisper echo through my mind. I watched as the creature began to twist, it¡¯s body morphing with the sounds of crushed bone and torn flesh. Tendons and skin rotated, winding out into long, meaty tendrils that leaked thin streams of black mist. Slowly, the flesh dissolved completely and the mist reformed into a small bird, the kingfisher. The process looked much worse than it sounds. I turned back towards the group, no longer able to contemplate the strange creature but also never able to ignore it completely. I tried to suppress the images that screamed through my mind. I no longer knew which thoughts were my own, and which came from something ¡­ other. We¡¯d lost most of the day to the battle and its aftereffects. Many of the bridge guards, as well as Worthy and his group, had lost friends ¡ª loved ones. The mood was somber as they all attended to their task quietly, grouping together in small bands as they mourned. I knew their pain, but I also knew that it was not a thing for outsiders. I hadn¡¯t known the dead, and I would have to contemplate that loss alone. If only I could ¡­ I didn¡¯t know what I needed, but a deep melancholy set over me as my eyes slid over the muted forms of the survivors. They carried out their tasks on a stony beach beneath a murky sky, eyes full of tears but also something more. Defiance. I realized then that the world had not ended, not truly. It was ending, perhaps, but something new could be built from the ashes. These men and women would build it; I felt too tired to even contemplate my own place in that world. I had felt powerful during combat, but now I felt only exhaustion. When it was all over, I would find someplace to be alone, if such a place still existed. Other worlds were out there ¡ª perhaps one of them could support a quiet life? But, it wasn¡¯t over. Maybe, it never would be. The survivors all had injuries ranging from minor scrapes to broken limbs, and, in one case, a punctured lung. These injuries, and my own ankle, would have healed perfectly over time ¨C one of the benefits of the system. That, however, could take days. Fortunately, one of the guards, a mage wearing a long, red coat and a fedora, had a few low-level healing spells. Worthy had also surprised me by fixing my ankle with a skill he called Lay on Hands. He smirked slightly when he said it, but I didn''t catch the joke. Of the original group, only Worthy, Bridgette, Tiller, Catayla, and I remained. And the Fisher. After its transformation, it had perched on my shoulder and appeared to be sleeping. I could sense its alertness. The terrifying thing was that I knew the small form resting on me could change into a mass of tentacles and eyes whenever it wanted to. It might have given me nightmares if all the vacancies hadn¡¯t already been filled by even greater, more existential terrors. ¡°Are you sure that thing will float?¡± asked Worthy. ¡°It creeps me out a little.¡± "A little?" I asked. "The thing terrifies me, and I made it." My ¡®boat¡¯ was pushed halfway into the water, a shadowy rope anchoring it to a nearby rock. The craft was little more than a large box that was open at the top, with three lines of benches and a flat canopy roof. It was constructed completely from black threads of energy that were constantly moving, containing swirls of glowing embers that swam beneath the thin mist that rose up from the craft. ¡°Probably,¡± I shrugged. ¡°It should be okay. Not a lot of mass, mostly watertight. Why don¡¯t you give it a try?¡± ¡°Mostly?¡± Worthy asked while raising a single eyebrow. ¡°Ah, fuck it. I¡¯m not going to drown in five feet of water.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you need to worry about drowning,¡± said Tiller. ¡°The local marine life is probably just as aggressive as the rest of the fauna in the area. Who knows what could be beneath this seemingly peaceful water. What sleeps in the depths. What ...¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Tiller¡¯s voice got deeper and more theatrical as he finished. ¡°Cute,¡± Worthy interrupted. He cut the rope and began to push the boat across the sand before jumping into it with an easy grace. The boat silently slid over the waves. Worthy stood still for a few seconds before shifting his weight from foot to foot, barely rocking the boat. Even as his stomping became more vigorous the craft remained remarkably stable. ¡°Seems sturdy enough,¡± he said. ¡°Are you sure you want to do this now, though? It¡¯ll be dark well before we make it across. Bridgette and I brought camping supplies, I hope the rest of you did as well.¡± ¡°Normally, I¡¯d agree with you,¡± Catayla added, ¡°but we don¡¯t have the time to wait. We¡¯ve rested long enough.¡± The tall, blue-scaled scout jumped up into the boat beside Worthy and turned to look at the rest of us. Her weight shifted the boat slightly, but I was gaining confidence the craft could actually support us all. ¡°Your physical stats should allow you to easily skip a single night of rest,¡± she said, ¡°and if we make good time, and have a little luck, we should meet up with my comrades well before the moon reaches its highest point.¡± ¡°I think we¡¯re all in,¡± said the statuesque blonde, Bridgette. ¡°I¡¯ve lost friends to get here, and I¡¯m not ready to turn back now.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± said Catayla. ¡°I know you¡¯ve lost more than most, but all of us have lost something. We all stand to lose a lot more if we do not complete this mission.¡± Catayla stood up straight, highlighting her intimidating height, before taking a moment to make eye contact with each of us. The blue scales on her cheeks glittered in the fading light. ¡°Something has obviously gone wrong at the containment zone,¡± She continued. ¡°And if we don¡¯t find out what has happened, and help put a stop to it, then the whole area may be in danger. Everything you care about could be gone, we have to keep moving.¡± ¡°We¡¯re with you,¡± said Tiller. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what¡¯s at stake, really, but I do know I¡¯d rather be doing something rather than twiddling my thumbs, as fun as that can be.¡± ¡°Well then,¡± Worthy said. ¡°Are you all going to join me on this pleasure craft, or should I wait for you to hug it out first? Don¡¯t say I kept you waiting.¡± As everyone climbed onto the boat, I was struck by the grace each of them displayed. The physical improvements made by the system allowed almost everyone in the party to move with fluid and precise motions. Even casual movement betrayed the coordination and strength generally only seen in professional athletes and dancers. I jumped forward, covering twice the length of my body. I landed upright on the stern of the small boat, causing a few splashes against the smoldering hull. Before the system, I¡¯d never really taken pleasure in physical activity. I¡¯d kept in shape, of course, but I¡¯d long ago lost that childlike joy that could be found in just moving. It was wonderful just to exist, despite all the suffering and loss. My depression slipped away as I became lost in the physicality. It was exhilarating to explore these new limits. ¡°Show off,¡± said Tiller. ¡°I might be able to take gold in the long jump,¡± I said. ¡°But I¡¯ve got nothing on those Jedi reflexes of yours.¡± ¡°Actually,¡± said Tiller. ¡°I wanted to talk to you about that. Once we start moving, talk with me for a minute, okay? You haven¡¯t spent any of your stat gains from the battle, have you?¡± ¡°No,¡± I shook my head. ¡°I was planning on just putting all of them into Intellect. It seems the most efficient use, as it also increases Might by a small amount. Anything else would feel like a waste.¡± ¡°Just trust me,¡± said Tiller. ¡°If this works you¡¯re probably going to kick yourself. You''ll definitely kick yourself if you don''t try it, and you find out later that it works.¡± I agreed to consult Tiller before spending any of my unallocated stats. I then used the eldritch energy that permeated the air to create a set of four oars. I took one set of paddles, while Worthy, Bridgett, and Catayla took the others. With our increased strength, I estimated it would probably take less than twenty minutes to reach the other shore. I wished I could still try out for crew. ¡°Listen,¡± said Tiller. He sat down beside me and began whispering so quietly that I probably wouldn¡¯t have been able to understand him if it hadn¡¯t been for the increased perception I gained from my Hierophant class. ¡°Do you remember how you told me you got the Able Learner feat?¡± he asked. ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°Why are we whispering?¡± ¡°I ¡­¡± he began. ¡°I don¡¯t really know, I guess I just figured you¡¯d want to keep being secretive with your build.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said loud enough for everyone to hear. ¡°I think we¡¯re all past that point. If we¡¯re going to be a team, I think we need to share this kind of info.¡± I notice a few eyes turn toward me, but no one interjected. Catayla noticed me with narrowed eyes, her vertical pupils were especially disconcerting when she narrowed them like that. ¡°Ok,¡± said Tiller. ¡°During the tutorial, most of us got feats from focusing on a single stat. In fact, the tutorial encouraged it. Mine is Heightened Reflexes, it doubles my reaction speeds. It¡¯s basically a straight multiplier for my reaction stat.¡± ¡°Damn,¡± I whistled, ¡°that¡¯s pretty good.¡± ¡°You should try putting three points into Reaction, see what happens.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m still not sure. I feel like I¡¯m throwing away stat points if I skip Intellect. Besides, I¡¯ve already gotten a tutorial feat, I¡¯d be a bit upset if it didn¡¯t work.¡± ¡°You still don¡¯t get it, do you?¡± Catayla said. ¡°Such feats are a crutch given to the newly initiated, they are powerful, and you shouldn¡¯t scorn them so easily.¡± ¡°Are you saying I should follow Tiller¡¯s advice?¡± ¡°The rules of my order forbid me from giving natives specific information on feats and stats, other than what is given in the tutorial. The tutorial you never had ¡­¡± ¡°Oh, shit,¡± I said. The realization finally dawned on me. ¡°I never finished the ¡­¡± I didn¡¯t wait anymore, immediately assigning three points into my Reaction stat. Congratulations! You have put three points into a single stat before completing the tutorial!! You have unlocked the feat(s) ¨C Heightened Reflexes ? - Having focused on Reaction during the earliest part of your training you now find that your body reacts to your commands more quickly than you had ever imagined. Your reaction times are reduced by half. This effectively doubles the gains you receive from the reaction feat! I looked over at Catayla and then turned my head to make eye contact with Tiller. I smiled and nodded my head. ¡°Heightened Reflexes? Did it work?¡± The look on my face must have given it away because I soon heard a mix of groans and cheers. ¡°Of all the fucking luck,¡± said Worthy. ¡°Not only are you the only one of us with a class, you also have a fancy familiar and now ¡­ cheat codes. It¡¯s hardly fair to the rest of us slobs.¡± I ignored Worthy, instead, turning back towards Tiller. ¡°So, what do you think I should do with my next three points?¡± ¡°Fair question,¡± Tiller said, ¡°I don¡¯t imagine it will take you long to level if you¡¯re only level six. Might would be ¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, no,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve already got them. I receive an extra unallocated stat per level from one of my feats, so those three levels gave me a total of six points.¡± ¡°Jesus save me,¡± said Worthy throwing his arms up dramatically. ¡°I¡¯d be outa here if this boat wasn¡¯t the size of postage stamp.¡± ¡°Agility is my lowest stat,¡± I said, ¡°and I¡¯ve already found a way to raise Might. Focus would probably be the most useful for my new abilities, though.¡± ¡°Well,¡± said Tiller. ¡°Obviously you should take all of them eventually. Personally, I think Focus would be the best idea, considering¡­ everything.¡± He casually glanced at the kingfisher on my shoulder before quickly looking away. The bird ignored Tiller¡¯s gaze, still feigning sleep. ¡°I¡¯ll hold out for now,¡± I said. ¡°A relaxing boat ride is exactly what I need to clear my mind.¡± It¡¯s too bad things never work out the way we plan. Chapter 27: So long, and Thanks for All the Fish Tiller was the first to notice something was wrong. He stood up, yelling that something had just swum underneath us as he began firing into the water. Each shot shattered the surface of the water like a cannon, leaving behind faint blue lines of energy. Catayla reacted immediately, jumping onto the boat¡¯s canopy roof. The familiar peal of her rifle was like thunder ringing out in quick succession. It was chaos, the rest of us had no idea what was happening. I began to yell out a question, just as Worthy stood up and began barking orders. Bridgette¡¯s hand wavered between her club and rifle before she began firing blindly into the murky water. ¡°It¡¯s in the water,¡± Tiller yelled. ¡°Something is circling us, at least ten of them. Probably more. Watch where my shots are landing. If we focus our fire, we can take these things out one at a time.¡± Worthy and Bridgett immediately lined up next to Tiller and began to concentrate on the same targets. The blue lines left behind by Tiller¡¯s mana-infused bullets made it easy for the duo to follow his shots, each shot causing the water to churn and kick up large splashes. Every volley was like a bag of bricks being upended into a still pool. Unfortunately, the creatures were tough and fast. So far, our group had only struck glancing blows. Blood slickened the surface, but no bodies floated upwards. Even Catayla had yet to get a kill. I paused to look around, taking the time to activate my arcane shield. The water seemed calm, with the exception of the bullets striking the otherwise gentle waves. It was too dark to see beneath the water, and the explosion and collapse of the bridge had kicked up silt and dirt to further muddy the water. I could barely make out areas of the water that seemed darker than the water around them. Faint shadows that were circling us. The fisher stirred on my shoulder, letting out a fierce battle cry. Instantly, my vision focused, and the forms of my enemies materialized as faint silhouettes with jagged fins and long, powerful tails. As I watched, the Fisher dove into the water and began changing into an abomination of eyes and tentacles. It was a form I had come to call the ¡®Gazer.¡¯ The shape was now healed of damage, no longer burnt or missing eyes and tentacles. The Fisher was no longer ¡®borrowing¡¯ a corpse, but instead exploring the limits of its shapeshifting. I shared the Fisher¡¯s sight, momentarily losing balance as its senses overlaid onto my own. Dozens of creatures with long, slender necks and dolphin-like bodies had surrounded us. Tumors and lacerations lined their bodies, exposing pink flesh beneath pale, grey skin. Each had dagger-like teeth picking out between curved jaws, and long eyestalks growing from their foreheads. I drew my staff with my left hand, a long, curved blade appearing as the weapon extended to its full length. The silver chain became alive, unraveling from my arm. It twirled around me like a vortex. Red and black lighting ran down its length, creating thick thorns that dripped with burning energy. Dark, smoke-like energy flowed through my right arm, ending at my hand. The mist twirled about my fingers before lengthening and solidifying into a spear, black with bits of burning crimson. It smoked and gave off crackling sparks and pale embers. The javelin was massive, half again as tall as I was and as thick around as my wrist. It was a scaled-up version of a real weapon I had pulled from my memory, something I had seen at the local aquarium. The blade at the tip was jagged and asymmetrical, with a cruel, sickle-like blade that curved behind it. I didn¡¯t bother creating a line or chain to tether the weapon, as I didn¡¯t want myself, or my boat, dragged under the waves. I would simply create a new weapon after I lost the first. I slammed my staff-scythe into the deck, allowing it to fuse with the dark energy that flowed through the boat. I could feel the silver chain struggling to join the battle, but I was able to contain it through sheer force of will. I needed it close to defend my allies. I hurled the harpoon, the Fisher entangling my target with its tentacles as my weapon found its marks. After striking my foe, I dropped the mental concentration to begin creating another spear. I cast them it into the waves again, and again. Sometimes I hit, and at other times the strange fish would twist out of the Fisher¡¯s grasp to temporarily avoid becoming seafood kabobs. Kill or miss, I continued to throw. It worked well, quickly landing me five kills. Tiller, Worthy, and Bridgette had collectively managed to take out another two, while Catayla had killed at least four by herself before the school of fish fled, leaving behind floating corpses to bob on the surface of the turbulent river. ¡°Is that all of them?¡± I asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± Tiller replied. ¡°I can¡¯t hear or see anything, but it doesn¡¯t feel finished.¡± ¡°You two,¡± said Worthy. ¡°You need to learn how to keep your fucking mouths shut. You think whatever is out there isn¡¯t listening to us? Paying attention? You jinx us and it¡¯s liable to fuck with us just for kicks.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an interesting theory,¡± said Catayla. ¡°Your words might even hold some wisdom, despite your ignorance. Right now, however, we need to focus. Tiller is right. That was just the opening salvo. Something else is coming. Something ¡­ bigger.¡± The Fisher felt my rising fear and let out a deep laugh as it dove under the boat, stretching out its tentacles and searching with a hundred eyes. It would be hard to get past its gaze, even in the dark and murky water. Hard, but not impossible. The boat lurched as it was brought to an immediate stop, the bow being lifted completely above the water. I could feel the eldritch energy the craft was made from beginning to distort and bend. It took a large part of my focus just to hold the hull together. Before I had time to process the images I was received from the Fisher, a large tendril of thick, slimy flesh shot out of the water and wrapped around the boat. It wrapped around the boat twice, suckers as large as dinner plates gluing it to the hull.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Several more tentacles shot out of the water, hanging above us like executioners waiting for the command cut us down. They cast a shadow that blocked out what little light remained. The writhing limbs descended just as the last rays of daylight were disappearing behind the horizon. I grabbed my scythe, cutting a wide crescent as I swung my blade upwards. Thick spikes grew from the hull of the boat, extending outward and skewering the tentacles as they fell around me. A high-pitched scream, just barely within the range of human hearing, rang out as the tentacle that had been wrapped around the boat withdrew beneath waves. I released the spikes and created a thin dome of wispy energy. The remaining tentacles fell and began to pound at the dome in a steady staccato, denting the wispy barrier like hammers upon thin sheet metal. ¡°It¡¯s not going to hold,¡± I yelled. ¡°We need to attack those tentacles, drive this thing off.¡± My words went mostly unheard and hardly needed to be spoken. The small crew had already begun firing under the dome to hit the tentacles around us. I was out of the fight, every ounce of mental energy I had remaining went into maintaining the dome. Each blow felt like a physical strike that reverberated through my skull. Luckily, that same skull was rather crowded. The Fisher could act separately from me, so I cut off our connection. I immediately lost the extra sensory input, but I could feel a vague feeling of acknowledgment as the creature dove further into the depths ¡ª seeking the main body of the creature. ¡°Catayla,¡± Worthy yelled as he took time to reload his rifle. ¡°Got any more of those explosives? A shockwave might be able to injure this thing, or at least convince it that we aren¡¯t easy prey.¡± ¡°A few,¡± she yelled. ¡°But they¡¯ll be useless unless we can get them close to the main body. These tentacles are boneless and flexible and abomination flesh is notoriously tough, they¡¯d barely feel it. Even if we did take them out, there is a good chance they can regrow, or that more are waiting in reserve.¡± ¡°We should at least try,¡± Worthy barked back. ¡°These things are going to kill us.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t work,¡± she said. ¡°The blast would be much more likely to kill us than this beast.¡± An idea hit me, and I sent a vague image to the Fisher. I felt its amusement as it spun around and began swimming back towards the surface. ¡°Wait,¡± I stammered. ¡°Will that work? If we can get the explosive close to the main body can we kill this thing?¡± My words were formed slowly between gasps as I tried to steady my breathing. The dome was being damaged faster than I could repair it, and the strain was taking a toll on me physically. ¡°Theoretically,¡± said Catayla. ¡°Injuring it might cause it to retreat, even if we can¡¯t kill it.¡± ¡°Good,¡± I said. ¡°Throw everything you have into the water directly in front of you. Give us a couple minutes on the timer, if you can.¡± Catayla either trusted me or guessed at my plan because she didn¡¯t hesitate. She immediately threw three marble-sized beads into the water. The splashes were followed by a large bubble that rose to the surface as the beads disappeared beneath the waves. I caught a quick glimpse of an eye-filled blob diving beneath the waves. Strikes continually struck at the barrier, and new tentacles had begun to target the gap I had left at the bottom of the dome, trying to pry it open. I reached the end of my endurance, my fists shaking as I lost control of the dome. It shattered as a final blow tore through the fading membrane. Twisted shrapnel spun out in every direction. A screech cut through the air as small streams of blood ran from one of my ears, tinnitus filling my mind with painful ringing. Severed tentacles fell, still squirming as they slowly sank beneath the river. For a few glorious moments, I was able to catch my breath. No more tentacles emerged, all of them either withdrawn or severed. ¡°I¡¯m going to turn this whole boat into a capsule,¡± I yelled. ¡°We¡¯ll be totally cut off and defenseless, and those tentacles are going to smash through it in a matter of seconds. We¡¯ll have to hope those explosives do their job.¡± I looked up at Catayla and then back down towards Tiller. ¡°Anyone else have a better plan?¡± ¡°How long can you hold out for?¡± asked Tiller. ¡°Maybe a minute,¡± I said. ¡°Probably less.¡± ¡°And Catayla,¡± Tiller said. ¡°How much time is left on those bombs?¡± ¡°Fifty-six¡­ fifty-five seconds and counting. Do it now, Finn!¡± she yelled. We were immediately surrounded by a darkness that was all-encompassing. I had closed the top of the boat, leaving us entombed and unable to react to the danger beyond the thin walls I had created. Without the added strain of forming weapons or holding together the dome, reforming boat had seemed effortless. The effort grew as thick limbs began to pound, falling in a steady rhythm. I grunted as I fell to my knees, beads of sweat running into my eyes. The constant barrage of strikes vibrated the craft with deafening, thunder-like cracks. It was like being swung inside a bell, my bones shook, and I felt a sharp, piercing pain as my other eardrum burst. The attack persisted for several seconds, before seeming to relent. The reprieve lasted no more than a second, and soon I could feel us being lifted out of the water. Stress fractures began forming, as something heavy and powerful began to squeeze my quickly fading construct. I copied my previous trick, creating long, needle-thin spikes around the hull. The tentacles pulled away, but they didn¡¯t drop us immediately. My stomach dropped as I felt myself moving upwards. A rising feeling of vertigo and nausea filled me as we hung weightless for a moment of fleeting stillness, before plunging downward. As we struck the water, the shell I had created around the boat nearly split in two, but I roared in defiance as I struggled to hold the energy together. The stars had become visible through a latticework of widening cracks. Water was beginning to rise over my feet. I released the form of the boat, concentrating on the much simpler form of a flat plane ¡ª like a small raft woven of dark and corrupting energy. The empty sky hung above me and dark waters swam beneath, nothing but air and shadow between myself and death. I finally freed the silver chain, and it spun around my fragile raft, striking out like a whip at a descending tentacle. ¡°I¡¯m spent,¡± I moaned. ¡°Hold them off as long as you can.¡± ¡°How much longer?¡± asked Bridgette. ¡°Can we hold off long enough for the bombs to work?¡± ¡°Thirty more seconds,¡± Catayla said. She seemed calm, almost emotionless. I normally would have envied her, but I was too exhausted to feel anything. My fear had long since evaporated into a quiet acceptance. ¡°Might as well be a lifetime,¡± said Worthy. ¡°I don¡¯t think we can last another second.¡± ¡°Just fire at anything that moves,¡± Bridgette yelled. ¡°We have to make it through this. I¡¯m not going out as fish food.¡± I lay panting while they fought. They battled for what seemed like hours but was actually seconds. They shot and hacked, driving back anything that reached our raft. It seemed a valiant last stand, but I knew how those usually ended. The silver chain spun around us like razor wire, but it was quickly entangled as it wrapped around a group of three tentacles. There seemed to be an unending number, each limb quickly being replaced faster than they could be cut down. ¡°Ten more seconds,¡± Catayla yelled out. The three tentacles entangled with the silver chain tore open like a hand extending its fingers upwards. Silver links rained down on the water, even as I lost the strength to hold my staff. The curved scythe blade faded, as the weapon slipped into the water. ¡°Five seconds!¡± Catayla warned. I counted down, feeling as if I was ticking off the final moments of my life. As I reached zero, a shadow fell over me. I could feel the air move as something large descended, seeming to grow heavier and faster the closer it came. ¡°Now,¡± yelled Catayla. ¡°Abandon ship!¡± I was once more tossed into the air. I lost consciousness after I felt something wrap around my ankle. I saw bubbles fall towards the light as I was pulled into the darkness. I felt cold and my chest burned and then ¡­ nothing. Chapter 28: Dreamscape I hung weightlessly in a void of black that was divided by thin streams of interconnected light. The silver light spread over the darkness like thread hung over a loom, spinning as they separated into finer and finer strands. Ultimately, each ended in bright points like stars swimming in a galaxy submerged in moonlit water. Specks of glowing dust clung to me like grainy smoke, leaving luminous trails that followed me in tight orbits. I stuck my arm through one of these glittering streams, it felt cold and silky as it the particles ran through my outstretched fingers. Far beneath me, half hidden in light and fog, was an island swimming through the nothingness. Snaking rivers weaved through emerald forests before tumbling over rocky cliffs ¡ª boundless waterfalls dispersing into mist as they flowed into the void. At the center of this island sat a marble palace adorned with gold and topped by ivory towers domed in brass and silver. It was beautiful, and something about it struck me as familiar. I had seen it before, been here before. Perhaps in a dream ¡­ A scene from a fantasy long since forgotten, buried somewhere in my subconscious. It pulled at me. I felt that I had almost remembered, but it slipped from my mind and I was left feeling confused, as stared at the strange scene in front of me. Six granite pillars created a circle around me. They curved inward to join at the top, creating a circular roof with a wide, oval opening in its center. Carvings of leaves and vines adorned the pillars, wrapping around them until blooming into intricate stone flowers that wreathed the open dome. Opposite me, sat a chair atop a long red rug that was supported by nothing but the void. The throne was made of a dark, cherry-colored wood with an arched back. It was padded with a quilted cushion made of deep crimson leather. Sitting in that chair was a man shrouded in shadows. Only his eyes were visible, a deep blue almost glowing with reflected light. ¡°Hello, Gus.¡± The voice was deep and inviting. Its familiarity was comforting and immediately put me at ease. I recognized it instantly, but that was impossible ¡­ ¡°Dad?¡± I asked. ¡°How are you here? Where am I?¡± I stood unspeaking for a moment, taking a step forward. My confusion quickly slipped away as he leaned forward, revealing his face in the pale light. The lines and shape were familiar, but they were not his. He smirked, contorting his face in an expression my father had never made. ¡°Oh, Gus, haven¡¯t we had this dance before?¡± He quietly stood and crossed half the distance between us with a single step, his face morphing and becoming longer and more youthful. The face was not unlike my own. ¡°I know this place ¡­¡± I said. "I know you, Fisher." ¡°Call me what you will,¡± the creature spoke, ¡°Here name''s have power. Call upon the right ones ... or the wrong, and you shall see wonders beyond your ken. Odin hung upon these stars for seven days, what names did he learn? What might you still call?" The Fisher''s form changed once more, he grew taller and a long, grey beard appeared on his chin. His back bet, as if something heavy pressed done on him, and he clung to a black spear as if it were a walking stick. His right eye withrew into a ruined socket. "This place is made of thought and whim," The Fisher continued, his voice growing deep and gruff. "Reality, but for the solidifying power of your thought. Conciousness refined in madness. A brittle chrysalis for what may come. It is your mind, or a portion of it. Oh, but should I call it ours?¡± The creature¡¯s laugh was thin and wheezing, ending in a fit of coughs. Its eyes never left my own. ¡°And yet,¡± it said. ¡°This place is more. So much it sings to be. To become. A Dreamscape, a place connected to the multitude. Layers of light and dark, each speck a weary eye closed in quiet wonder. The dreamers stir and when they wake what better place to be? For only dreamers see that which dreams can be.¡± I stood there for a moment as the creature collapsed back into its chair, seemingly exhausted. As it leaned back, it beckoned with one hand. ¡°Please, sit,¡± it said. A duplicate of the chair the creature sat in appeared next to me, but I pushed it aside as I glared down at the reclining creature. ¡°Why have you brought me here?¡± ¡°Brought? No. I¡¯ve sheltered you. You swim through darkness, bait caught and tangled on the line. You must cast free, take back the sky else¡­¡± ¡°Else what¡­¡± I said, growing impatient at its long pauses. ¡°Else you don¡¯t,¡± it said with an exaggerated shrug. ¡°And drown, bait lost to bigger fish. And I, swallowed back not to die, but lost in thought and forgotten to memory.¡± I sat watching. The Fisher had a strange way of speaking, but it was clear its words were a cryptic warning. What had I been doing before? My memory was hazy. ¡°What does all this mean?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m tired of puzzles and vague prophecy.¡± ¡°Prophecy?¡± it said with a gentle laugh. ¡°Is it prophecy to call the snared hare caught? No, but let me show you¡­¡± The creature stood, casting its chair into the void where it disintegrated into silver dust that joined the swirling lights. As the creature stood it grew to enormous heights and spread its arms wide.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°This is just theatrics,¡± I yelled. ¡°Show me what you want me to see or send me back.¡± ¡°Your friends are cast in dark waters beset by dangers,¡± the creature said, its voice echoing like thunder. ¡°And you must aid yourself if you wish to free them from this peril. Hel seeks them, already drawing them into her embrace.¡± Between its massive, outstretched hands, a rounded plane of silver light began to form. The disk quickly grew darker, glowing lines swirling on its surface, until an image formed. I peered into the images and I saw myself. I was being pulled through water, everything moving as if time had slowed. The image was dark, but the filtered moonlight was enough to barely make out the dense cord of flesh that was wrapped around my ankle and its way up my calf and thigh. My boot was missing, leaving only the thin jumpsuit as a barrier between my skin and the dark tumorous flesh of the tentacle that bound me. My face could not be seen, instead, I wore a mask of eyes hiding in grey folded flesh and twisting limbs. It pulsed with a study rhythm, like bellows fanning a fire. ¡°What is this,¡± I said. ¡°What have you done to me?¡± The giant form of the Fisher stood over me, crossing its arms as I shouted uselessly. It regarded me coldly, its eyes narrowing as if unsure of what they were seeing. ¡°The bait is taken,¡± the creature finally answered. ¡°But the catch has leaped the net. If you wish to break free you must become more than bait. Stop resisting what you are. They thought the mantle gone, but it is merely hidden. Answer the darkness that calls out to you. Embrace the madness in your soul.¡± ¡°How ¡ª¡± ¡°We are one, the Finn and the Fisher. Never lonely, for we are always by ourself. What is such a mind if not mad? Do not call it a weakness. Embrace the strength it gives us! We ¡­ You. And I.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already let you out,¡± I screamed. ¡°I won¡¯t give you control of my mind as well.¡± ¡°That ... creature, is not me. A remnant, a scattered plucked from the greater whole. It serves you, but at a price. Three words were to be spoken, we have bargained.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t take control of me that easily,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll say your words, but I never promised you action.¡± ¡°Listen. Speak then, know that you cannot lie to yourself. Not here in depths of your own soul. Speak, and know the truth.¡± As it spoke the words, I found my mouth repeating them. Three words ¡­ three syllables repeated over and over. The sounds were not dangerous, it was the idea that they represented. The idea I knew was true. We spoke together, with one voice. Only the void and myself were there to hear me. *** My eyes opened but my mind was incapable of comprehending. I had not been prepared to see in all directions at the same time and the sensory overload caused me to cry out as I slammed closed my eyes. Dozens of them. I reached out and touched my face. The skin was thick, almost rubbery. Long limbs protruded in random directions, and as I touched one I realized how incredibly sensitive it was. I could feel the slightest change in texture, it was enough that I could visualize my fingerprints just from running my hand over the cool flesh. I could feel even vibrations in the water, and despite my eyes being closed I began to ¡°see¡± a massive form retreating into the distance. This sight gave little detail, just a hazy outline of a misshapen sphere that was churning the waters it swam through. I could feel the water as it was drawn into the creature and then expelled in a steady beat. It looked like a massive beating heart. Thick tentacles protruded from the mass of flesh, each pulsing and contracting in time with the heartbeat of the creature. One of the narrower arteries reached up through the water and ended as it wrapped around my leg. As I reached out towards the tentacle, the flesh of the Fisher instinctively reached out as well ¡ª cold, grey flesh twining around the black tentacle that bound me. I worked to pull the flesh free, to unwind it from myself ¡ª instead it just grew tighter. It dug into my leg, and I screamed out, but my voice was muffled by grey flesh that wrapped around my throat and head. I reached out for my staff and chain, but they were gone. Lost somewhere far below. Instead, I reached down with my open hands, this time gripping the slimy flesh further up. The Fisher joined me, using its many limbs to pull with me. I conjured a bit of eldritch energy to create a long cable covered in jagged spikes, much like the teeth of a chainsaw. I wrapped the cable around the tentacle and pulled, twisted and sawing into flesh. The teeth gradually bit deeper. Blood like misty black ink spilled into the water. Finally, I felt the cable loosen in my grip as if finally cut through the final strands of flesh. A skull jarring screech shook my head, loud enough that I could feel it like a shockwave passing through the water. The Fisher, still tightly wrapped around my head, protected me from the worst of it but I could still feel my teeth and skull rattle. The noise should have deafened me, but instead, it added detail to my new sonar sight. Everything became crisp, like static slowly fading into a black and white image. I could see several more tentacles shooting through the water fast enough to leave foam and bubbles trailing in their wake. I couldn¡¯t maneuver fast enough to outrun or dodge them. The only thing I could do was fight. Just once, I wanted a problem where violence wasn¡¯t the answer. I reached out for the eldritch energy that flowed around me, but it was much thinner than it had been on the surface. Too thin to create a dome or capsule around myself like I had on the surface. Instead, I created several harpoons and sent them in the direction of the tentacles. My hope was that if I impaled them it might buy me some time. As soon as the first volley was finished, I created another before kicking towards the surface. The Fisher reacted to my need, and it used the tentacles that now grew from my head to help propel me through the water. I shuddered at the thought of what I must look like, but I couldn¡¯t argue with the effectiveness. How deep was I, I thought. I raced upward through the darkness, chasing after fading moonlight and a few rising bubbles. It seemed like minutes before the water finally began to lighten and I saw the moon shimmering above me. I felt cold air hit my ¡°face.¡± It was refreshing to feel fresh air upon my flesh, even if it wasn¡¯t technically mine. This level of fusion with the Fisher was ¡­ unsettling. The night air brought with it a thousand new scents too intense to process. Each was both familiar and unplaceable at the same time. The rolling waves, seen from many eyes, seemed to flow together in a kaleidoscope of shifting shapes. I lost track of my own position, forcing my eyes ¡ª all of them ¡ª to shut. I reached out with my new senses, hoping to find some trace of my companions ¡ª the eldritch boat I had created would not have survived for long and I had left them stranded halfway across the river. I wasn¡¯t sure how long they could hold out if more of those fish came, let alone against more of those tentacles. Before I could move, however, a dark presence spoke to me from the back of my mind. It was not words, but a pulling of my focus. It was like an instinct, a desire and a reflex that couldn¡¯t be ignored. I could sense injured prey, and a powerful urge to tear into its flesh overwhelmed me. I should leave, there was nothing keeping me here. Nothing pursued me, and my friends needed my help. I fought the rage, trying to rationalize it away but it could not be ignored. I found myself speaking those same three words, the words whispered in a dream. I gave in to the instincts of my darker half, repeating three words as I sank into the darkness. ¡°We are one.¡± Chapter 29: Descent My primal instincts took over, restoring a clarity to my thinking that I hadn¡¯t realized had been missing. It was as if by letting that part of my mind control my actions, I was also reducing the burden placed on my more rational side, leaving my thoughts free to wander. I no longer needed to resist my growing anger and frustration. Reflex controlled my physical actions now, and yet I was not a slavering beast left unable to think. It was disconcerting as if watching myself in a dream. I wasn¡¯t sure if I was in control, or the Fisher. The constant feed of the creature¡¯s senses had begun to bleed into my own. We were separate entities, and yet we were also two parts of something more ¡ª it was yet to be seen what that something would become. I could sense the body of the Fisher as its flesh wrapped around my own. With its every pulse, it drove oxygen into my lungs. It augmented my senses and strengthened my body. I could feel the creature pulling on the eldritch energy around us, strengthening us both, and growing its mass as it did so. My sight extended far into the cold, dark water. I could see my prey, my darker instincts calling out for its blood as images of fangs sinking into steaming flesh flashed through my mind. It creature fled, leaking hot blood into the cold water. Its injury only spurred my hunger. It fled, and I chased. The clump of flesh around my face tightened and began to flow downwards over my back and shoulders. Eyes dissolved into protoplasmic bubbles and tentacles merged and lengthened. When the transformation was complete six long tentacles trailed behind me like demonic wings, pumping to propel me through the darkness of the abyss. Despite being able to see everything in grainy black and white, and my lungs being supplied with a steady flow of oxygen, I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I had an urge to claw at the pale, grey flesh of the Fisher¡¯s current form. Before I could act, a thin, clear membrane had been created in front of my face. It was a simple comfort I hadn¡¯t realized I needed, and yet the Fisher seemed more attuned to my own physiological needs than I was. The ambient light was almost non-existent, with only the barest hint of moonlight cutting through the shadowed depths, and yet I could see thick lines of mana and eldritch swirling around me, adding color to the black and white of the Fisher¡¯s sonar. My perception and focus had received a boost upon gaining my class, each being boosted by three with an additional point to be gained upon each level up. This, added to the Fisher¡¯s senses, gave me the ability to see in the nearly lightless environment. Even still, my eyes were nearly useless as all I could see where faint traces of pale light filtering through bubbles and murky sediments. The sonar-sight, however, showed me a vast emptiness floating above a jagged and scarred landscape. Life was teeming here, but it had retreated and hidden away in small crevices and pores the dotted the ocean floor. Just how far had I been dragged? I wondered. I could sense faint movement as water moved around and through these hidden creatures. My senses were strong enough to pick out individual heartbeats, and the low hum of water flowing over gills. And my prey, I could sense it slowing as it reached the lowest point of the depths. I could see its misshapen form and the writhing arteries that madly flailed around it. Some dark instinct in me called out in glee to see the panicked thrashing. The Fisher sensed injury and desperation, and I felt a primal desire to strike back at my attacker. I continued to dive deeper, far deeper than any river could ever be. It was hard to tell if this was due to the terrain warping that seemed to grow stronger as we had grown closer to the dungeon, or if I had been dragged far out to sea. The pressure was immense, I could feel it pressing into me like my chest had been placed in a vice. I thought it unlikely that an unenhanced human would be unable to survive for long, even I would not have survived long without the Fisher. I could feel the air in my lungs compress, and my bones groan in protest. My Might and physical resistances protected me, as the Fisher kept my lungs full, but I suspected there was more to the ease with which I had adapted to this new environment. Perhaps, my final class feature was playing a role in my survival. I had yet to figure out exactly how the ability worked, but it had the potential to be my most powerful ability ¡ª if I could properly understand and harness it. I opened my status screen, noticing the staggering amount of FP as well as the remaining stats I needed to allocate. Somewhere along the line, I had gained two more levels, bringing my Hierophant class to level five and leaving me seven stat points. First, I looked at my fourth, and final, class feature to see if I could gain any further clues as to how it worked. As I did so, my body continued to swim faster, propelled by the Fisher¡¯s shifting limbs. Chaotic Mutability ? - Eldritch energy swims through your every cell, leaving them pliable and infinitely adaptable. Your cells drink in the ambient energy around them, changing and evolving over time. Your resistance to a specific type of damage will temporarily increase whenever you take sustained damage, the rate and level of this increase are proportional to the frequency and amount of damage taken.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Additionally, you will occasionally take on the characteristics and abilities of unique, boss, or raid level monsters that you have slain. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was an upgrade to Reactive Adaptability, but it sure as hell was just as promising. I had a fantasy of using it to become immune to attacks, weathering constant barrages of bullets as lead bounced off of my chest. I doubted it would be so straightforward a protection, but a guy can dream. I still had to test how much damage it resisted and what the cooldown was before I could rely on it in battle. I looked back to my stats, I knew my best option to was to increase two stats that didn¡¯t have the tutorial bonus. Each time I was about to allocate the points, however, I would freeze. I couldn¡¯t shake the idea that I was making a mistake and somehow gimping myself by not choosing something better. Fuck it, I¡¯ll get them all eventually. I didn¡¯t have time to debate and think through each choice, so I would instead choose to follow the advice of someone I trusted. Tiller had advised I put points into Focus, so I did. I was met by the usual congratulations informing me that I had earned a new feat, but I dismissed them, instead, skipping to the description. Focused Mind ? - Your early training has taught you the importance of focus, bringing clarity and intention to every thought and action you take. Your ability to focus on multiple tasks has doubled, and your mental constructs and attacks have gained greater clarity and strength (+25% damage and duration). A solid and easily understood ability. I wished more of them were as obviously useful and as straightforward about what they did. The remaining four stat points I decided to hold on to until I needed them. I enjoyed the flexibility of being able to instantly increase a single ability and gain a related feat depending on need. I might regret holding back, but at the same time, locking myself into a feat and then needed something else would also be regrettable. I was curious to see what would happen if I could gain the tutorial feat for each stat, would the system recognize it? It seemed likely that there would be an additional reward, but gaining them all should be impossible as the tutorial supposedly gave three stat points ¡ª unless I was not the only one to have avoided the tutorial. My attention was torn away from stats as I felt an angry bloodlust flow into me from the Fisher. I responded with a howl, and I dove faster ¡ª kicking against the water as thin tendrils pulsed behind me. I looked out with my sonar, trying to gauge the distance between my prey and me. I had crossed maybe a quarter of the distance, though the distance was beginning to shrink more quickly. The creature was slowly dragging itself across the sea floor. Far in the distance, I could see its goal, a massive crater that stretched down into the earth. I increased my speed, the Fisher¡¯s limbs spinning behind me like propeller blades. My prey¡¯s attempts to flee excited the darkness within me, prompting The Fisher to redouble its efforts. I gave more control to the Fisher, my mind again distracted by the immediate rewards of the status screen. That monster might be injured, but it was massive and cornered. I couldn¡¯t afford to give up any advantage, or so I rationalized. I still had yet to allocate the FP I gained during the bridge battle, leaving me with twenty points. It was a number much higher than I had expected. Checking my skills, I noticed that Eldritch Mimicry had increased by three points, while Eye of Madness had gained a single level. I had also gained points in Pain Tolerance, Dodge, Arcane Shield (minor), Tanglefoot, and Arcane Missile. The obvious way to spend my points was to finish Erudite, but I took my time and looked through the rest of the abilities in the Feat Store; Novice (0/4), Warrior (0/3), Acrobat (0/3), Inspiration II (0/50), Swordsman (0/4), Sniper (0/4), Illusionist (0/25), Circle Mage (0/25), Erudite (6/25), Corruption (0/???), Avatar of Madness (0/100). Corruption was new, and I saw absolutely no reason to put points into it. Throwing away good FP just to corrupt myself seemed like a poor trade. It was also disturbing to contemplate why the feat had only just now become available. It was almost as if the system was judging me ¡ª or sending me a warning. Avatar of Madness made me salivate just on coolness factor alone, but in truth, it was an enigma. I could guess it had something to do with my Hierophant class or my link to the Fisher. The cost, however, was too high for me to contemplate at the time. Circle Mage was almost as much as a mystery, but Illusionist looked promising. It seemed likely to contain new spells, which would create new FP in a glorious cycle of buying feats and leveling skills. If I had had enough points to finish it, I might have taken it right then and there, just to see if it synergized with the illusions created by Eldritch Mimicry. None of the choices called out to me enough to delay purchasing Erudite, as had already started investing in it. It was also the highest-level feat I had enough points to complete. I was running out of time to contemplate, so I put nineteen points into the skill, waiting for the results. As I brought the skill to ten out of twenty-five, and again at twenty, I gained two points to Intellect, for a total of four. I paused at the twenty-fourth point, waiting a moment before clicking a final time ... Erudite ? - You have chosen knowledge and self-reflection as the path to power. The speed at which you assimilate and internalize knowledge has increased, giving you a further boost to the rate at which you advance skills and acquire new ones. Additionally, the effects of this feat will become greater as you increase your Intellect. It wouldn¡¯t immediately impact the battle ahead of me, but it was a welcome ability that seemed a satisfying conclusion to the scholar and able learner feats. I especially liked the way it would continue to grow more powerful as my stats increased. By this point, I had covered almost half the distance to the fleeing creature and was no longer descending, instead brushing against the sandy floor. I could sense the ground vibrating, but It wasn¡¯t clear what was causing it. I tried to get a better view beneath the earth, but the hard stone beneath the sand blocked my sonar. A feeling of dread, a hunter¡¯s unease at being hunted, alerted me to danger. I immediately slowed and began swimming up, trying to put space between myself and the vibrating ocean floor. until several thick tentacles of dark slimy flesh burst from the ground to surround me. My escape was blocked as a weave of thick tentacles burst through the rock, surrounding me in a cloud of murky water and black, writhing flesh. I was cut off from both above and below, as the space between the tentacles quickly shrank. The creature had stopped fleeing, and I could sense it charging towards me at incredible speeds. It had been baiting me in the whole time, and I had allowed myself to get distracted. I had let my darker half take over while my own mind wandered. It was a mistake I vowed to never make again. Chapter 30: The Mournful Sigh of Victory Three long, writhing limbs wrapped around me. I felt the pressure increasing on my chest and heard snapping as my ribs exploded in pain and my vision turned white. I desperately looked for an escape, but all avenues had been cut off as sinuous flesh continued to surround me. I screamed in pain and struggled against the powerful force of the tentacles as they wrapped around my legs and right arm. I could feel the ligaments in my arm throb in burning pain as they were twisted and pulled beyond their limits. Sand and small pieces of rock had been kicked up from the ocean floor when the tentacles had begun their ambush. The lithe appendages continued to thrash around me created fizzling bubbles and small vibrations in the water. The noise from these distractions, combined with the distortions caused by sand and debris in the water, essentially blinded my new ability to perceive the world through the Fisher¡¯s sonar. There was too much ¡®noise,¡¯ too many distractions for me to sort through. Everything was just static blending together. My new senses perceived the world as chaotic, fragmented images that quickly overlapped and fused into a singular mess. It looked like an underwater blizzard if the ice and snow spun and howled like a hurricane. I closed my eyes and breathed. My sight and other senses were useless, but I still had an almost perfect memory due to the increases in my Intellect. I just had to calm down and visualize the terrain around me. I drew a mental image, but it was destroyed almost immediately as a sharp pain shout down my arm. Acknowledge the pain, but don¡¯t let it control you. Breathe, focus, act. Again, the lessons of my father appeared when I need them the most. I breathed and let my mind focus as I exhaled. Now I needed to act. I could remember where I was in relation to the seafloor, and my ability to sense eldritch energy was enough to get a rough location for the closest of the tentacles. I saw a quickly changing group of images, but it took prodigious amounts of concentration to hold them in my mind. I gritted my teeth, working past the pain. I could feel my limbs being pulled tight, threatening to dislocate as ligaments and tendons were stretched beyond their natural limits. I screaming, no longer trying to fight against the pain. I felt myself begin to shake as adrenaline flooded my system, somewhat lessening the agony. I don¡¯t know if it was terror or the adrenaline, but my entire body was trembling. I focused on it, using it as something to focus on other than the pain ¡ª it worked, buying me a brief moment of clarity. I had instinctively activated Arcane Shield as soon as the first tentacle had shot up from the sea floor. The spell still held steady ¨C my own mana being augmented by that of Fisher had greatly increased my survivability. The slight gap the spell created between myself and the tentacles was welcome but did nothing to lessen their grip as they snaked around my limbs and torso. I knew the shield would not hold out forever no matter how much mana I had. I couldn¡¯t win a one-way battle of attrition. It was also useless in stopping the creature from stretching my limbs, even if the shield did save me from being crushed. I would need a more offensive strategy if I was going to survive. I felt the moment of lucidity fading as pain caused my vision to blur, but I forced myself to remain calm ¨C I needed to wait for more tentacles to attach themselves to me. For a moment longer, I had a plan but I would need to wait. Just a few more. I waited, letting more and more of the impenetrable appendages grab me. I felt the pressure on my torso and limbs increase with each moment. I felt like an overcooked sausage that could explode at any moment. Just a few more ¡­ each tentacle that grabbed me immobilized itself as clearly as it bound me. The slimy flesh surrounded me like a ball of writhing worms. I became isolated from everything else, blocking out all noise except for the sound of my own breath and the pounding of my heart. The beat was growing faster as the pain threatened to overwhelm my consciousness. I couldn¡¯t wait any longer. My eyes snapped opened, narrowing in concentration. I let out a long breath, before slowly filling my lungs once more. The ritual calmed me, allowed me to center my mind enough to visualize my intent. I could only create that which I could see. I used Eldritch Mimicry to copy the Arcane Shield spell, creating an additional barrier between the writhing ball of flesh and myself. It momentarily reduced the tension on my limbs, but the tentacles quickly readjusted their grip until the pressure on my joints returned. That is exactly what I wanted, the harder they squeezed the more likely my plan was to work. I poured as much energy as I could into the shell of eldritch energy around me, thickening and reinforcing it with every heartbeat. The eldritch energy had grown thicker the deeper I had dived. It seemed to flow up from the sea floor like a dark crimson mist before it then spread out into the water like a cloud of sediments that were slowly being dissolved into the water. The marine life hiding beneath rocks or buried in sand absorbed this dark energy, allowing them to gradually change their form and nature. I pulled on the energy, willed it to obey me. I consumed and guided the energy as it slowly formed a shell around me. When the energy of the shield became too dense to be strengthened further, I bent it around itself to create layers of folded energy. The swirling eldritch miasma in the surrounding water quickly thinned, consumed faster than it could be replenished. The energy flowing into my spell slowed until only a trickle remained. I took the final drops, squeezing all I could, before finally releasing my hold on it and grabbing onto the energy of the shield itself. The eldritch energy within the shield reacted to my will, gladly calling out to be shaped. Its nature was chaos, ever-changing and mutable. My nature was to command it. I was the hierophant and I commanded it to obey, for a moment I felt the will of the Madness as if I were still staring into the all-seeing eye of swirling fire.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The shield expanded outwards as it changed into long thin needles of black and crimson energy. The spikes pierced flesh and drew forth streams of blood; black ichor flowed like hot tar. A high-pitched screech rang out, muffled by the ball of tightening flesh that was slowly constricting around me. Rather than loosen their grip, the thick limbs squeezed harder impaling themselves and tearing free chunks of flesh. I didn¡¯t release the spikes, instead of driving them in deeper. I twisted the spikes, once more changing them ¡ª this time into spiral blades like the head of a drill bit as large as a fire hydrant. I could feel the tentacles begin to weaken as more and more of their flesh was ripped away ¡ª slowly drifting down onto the seabed below. I fought against the energy as it fought to escape my control, each moment taking more and more focus. I could feel my constructs fading, becoming weaker. Blades bent and retreated, until, with the final ounces of my resolve, they exploded outwards once more. The creature would not relent, and new tentacles continued to appear around me as others were severed or retreated. They squeezed and pulled with relentless determination even as I fought for my own life in a battle against exhaustion. I once more pulled the energy into a shell around me as I curled my body into a ball, trying to take up as little room as possible. The spikes and drill bits faded, leaving only a perfect sphere of black and floating embers of crimson light. I visualized the shell growing, pushing the shield as far out from myself as I could. This created a bubble of space around me large enough that I was able to thrust my arm straight down without touching anything. I reached out with the six long ¡®wings¡¯ created by the Fisher¡¯s morphic flesh, using them to anchor myself to the wall of tentacles surrounding me. Finally, my mental energy almost spent, I released the spell made from eldritch energy, calling every ounce of energy I could grasp into my open palm. The energy condensed into a sphere of flowing mist, black and burning like a smoldering eye. I thrust out my hand forming within it a curved blade as thick as my wrist and longer than I was tall. The blade cut through countless tentacles before emerging on the other side of the sphere. I spun. Pushing outward as I used the anchored limbs of my companion for leverage. I struck out around myself in a perfect circle. The ¡®wings¡¯ on my back pushing as I twisted my body, the curved blade twirling me around in a violent and deadly dance. A mist of dark ichor filled the water, dyeing everything around it as if a cloud of ink had been poured into the turbulent waters. I was blind again, but everything felt calm. Quiet. It was the quiet stillness that preceded all chaos, like the disbelieving shock found on the faces of passengers in the first moments before they realized the plane was going down. A symphony of silence followed by the quick tempo of panicked desperation. I could feel the eldritch energy flow out of the blood and seep from the slowly dying limbs. The energy flowed into me, and I could feel a fire in my chest that was slowly converting and filtering the energy ¡ª changing it into something else. I could feel my body mend as the energy poured into me, but every fiber of my being still cried out in agony and my right arm still hung uselessly at my side. I felt dizzy, the darkness spinning around me as a buzzing echoed in my ears. The mist was slowly beginning to clear, and I knew that I had to act fast. The creature was injured but not dead, and it was now more desperate than ever. One of us would act first, and I was determined to be that came out of this alive. I dove downwards, leaving a faint echo of eldritch energy behind me. I kicked my legs with all my strength even as the Fisher pumped its tentacles to propel me through the water. I performed a perfect flip turn right as I struck the bottom, using the extra limbs for a greater boost ¡ª it was a maneuver that would have made my old high school swim coach proud if he hadn¡¯t been too busy screaming in terror. As the inky mist cleared, I had already covered half of the remaining distance to the fleeing creature. Behind me, several tentacles were attacking a vaguely humanoid simulacrum I had left as a decoy. A few tentacles had launched towards me as well, but their momentary hesitation combined with my speed caused them to miss. My prey was just ahead now, and I grew hungry. Nothing would come between us. This was the moment to establish myself in the food chain, and earn my right to survive in this new world. I began to spin like a perfectly thrown football as the squid-like appendages of the Fisher rotated, propelling me forward even faster. As the creature grew closer I took in its enormous size. It was an almost perfect oval and had countless tentacles growing from every inch of its surface, save for the two far ends which were flat and rounded. Most of the tentacles clung loosely to the sea floor, with only a few retaining the strength to strike at me as I grew closer. Even these were beginning to slow ¡ª missing me by wider and wider margins. I could sense thick rivers of ichor and eldritch energy flowing from the creature and diffusing into the cold water. Wide chunks and deep channels had been carved out of its flesh and a deep crater had been tunneled into one of the creature¡¯s sides. I didn¡¯t hesitate. I drew forth as much energy as I could, even pulling as much as I dared from the Fisher. My companion hissed as I fed upon it, its tentacles slowly shrinking as I cannibalized its energy. I felt its resentment, but the creature didn¡¯t fight me, surrendering its energy willingly. I recreated a harpoon that matched those I used during the battle on the surface of the river. It grew larger as more energy was poured into it, soon extending to nearly three times my height. My speed increased as I recklessly sped towards the creature, gripping the harpoon in both hands and extending it forward like a lance. I struck flesh. My arms exploded in pain and my left wrist snapped ¡ª but my aim was true. The harpoon sank into the crater in the creature¡¯s side, digging deep into the exposed and tender flesh. Every tentacle came to life in an instant. Each wildly flailing as they cracked stone and flesh ¡ª some even colliding with each other with deafening cracks. Thunderous booms crang out as shockwaves spun me through the water. I cradled my injured arm, creating a new harpoon as soon as I dropped the first. My stomach and vision spun, and I couldn¡¯t see the ocean floor ¡­ but the writhing black oval was still centered in my vision. I once more launched myself through the water, this time throwing the harpoon forward to race ahead of me. I felt it pierce the creature''s side and I watched as the massive form went still, it¡¯s panicked arms falling like loose noodles onto the ocean floor as the massive form floated lifelessly into the cold darkness of the depths. For a moment a deathly silence covered the world, only to be broken by a deep and sorrowful wail as the tentacles came to life once more. I could feel every bone in my body vibrate, eliciting a scream of my own as my wrist exploded in pain. As I lost concentration the harpoons I had lodged in the side of the creature dissipated, removing the only obstacle holding back a thick deluge of blood that quickly covered everything in a sea of black mist. As I watched the final moments of the creature my anger and thirst for blood subsided, leaving behind only a great sadness. I felt a kinship with the creature for a moment, and I mourned its passing. We both had once been something different, now corrupted irrevocably by things beyond our understanding. I watched the monster, once a proud monarch of the seas, as its movements slowed and its many limbs grew torpid. In the final moments before its death, I sat in quiet witness ¡ª the only courtesy I could extend to a worthy foe. Chapter 31: The Fisherman and the Sea I sat in a replica of an old wooden rowboat; a construct formed from childhood memories. The familiar wooden planks and the chipped, white and green paint had been replaced by black mist and smoldering crimson embers. Around me, choppy waves threatened to upend my tiny craft, the design of which was never intended to be seaworthy. Beads of half-frozen rain fell around me, covering me in a thick slush that quickly melted as it came into contact with the heat of my body. Despite the freezing air and the frigid water that soaked me to the bone, I did nothing to shelter myself ¡ª allowing the rain to fall on me unimpeded. Instead, I rowed. The repetitive motion, back and forth, it was cathartic. I sat on the rear bench, facing forward. I smiled slightly remembering my father and his never-ending lessons. He would not have approved of my rowing form. I could picture him as he constantly reprimanded me for sitting ¡°ass-backward¡± every time we would take the boat out on the lake. I missed those lessons, I no longer had him as a rock to fall back on. No one was there to offer me sage wisdom born out of loving concern and decades of experience. I was alone, only myself and my demons. Demon. ¡°You can come out now,¡± I yelled. For a moment I sat there, only the soft patter of rain and the howling of the wind to bear witness to my words. I felt rather embarrassed, despite no one being there to see me. ¡°Fisher! I said it is time to show yourself.¡± I yelled louder now, feeling like an old man challenging the sea. A clich¨¦ from an era long lost to time, hidden now between the pages of oft-ignored tomes. ¡°Do you think yourself my master?¡± said a voice on the wind. The sound was clear and yet reminded me of the thud of a hollow wooden box. ¡°If not me, then who?¡± I said. ¡°Is not a man the master of himself?¡± ¡°Ah, so the simpleton tries on the jester¡¯s hat. Do you speak to me in riddles? Should we match wit-for-wit, like rapier spikes ¡ª tit-for-tat?¡± ¡°I won¡¯t compete with you in foolishness,¡± I said. ¡°I only want answers.¡± ¡°Then does the wise king bend an ear to beseech the roguish fool? Ask, perhaps I shall deign to speak.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve had your words, Fisher. I believe I still have questions,¡± I said. Anger rose up in my voice, and I felt my hands balling into fists as I shouted at the creature. At myself. I hated the creature for what it represented in myself, and for the face it wore. ¡°Then speak your query, prey. You already know all that you must ¨C if you want strength then you must cast aside your bonds ¨C and yet you cling to yours as if familiar shackles did suckle you at merry teat.¡± ¡°We. Are. One.¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not true, is it? You¡¯re something else, something more, and something less ¡­ human. That¡¯s not what I am.¡± ¡°Do not deny your nature, little Finn. The fool - the king- twined they are, creatures both united and apart ¡ª one must simply switch a silly cap to see a fool of sovereign made. A Severed sigil upon a silver crown, shattered and scattered upon the seven winds. Find the pieces and claim your chair upon a broken council, waiting and wilting within the sleeper¡¯s dreams. Soon to fade, in waking.¡± The creature spoke in a strange way, stilted and quickly changing in tempo and even accent. A Brooklyn accent flowing into a southern drawl or an Irish brogue, as if several speakers were taking turns. Its words would increase in speed as it spoke in forced alliteration, only to slow down to a crawl as its voice deepened and grew steadier as it spoke less poetic words. ¡°The damned shall fall before you,¡± it continued. ¡°And the righteous rise up behind your mantle. Hel shall fall before you, but not before taking all that you are. Illusions shall be shattered in her fall, like angels crashing into Earth.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned Hell before,¡± I said. ¡°What do you mean? How is Hell suppose to fall? You¡¯re making no sense.¡± ¡°I need not sense, I am Madness mortal. I am let loose to feast upon the souls, a Fisher King, daring and debonair to snare the wicked and the mad in wild gluttony, like the dulcet songs of hope crashed upon the destined shores of Avalon.¡± ¡°I do love these pointless conversations,¡± I said. ¡°I know I could never come up with something as pointless as ¡­ whatever nonsense that was. Just tell me what you are.¡± ¡°I¡¯m an answer and a riddle. Both the key and the lock. You must simply know the answer before you ask, and all shall be revealed. Know this young fish, rise above your oppressor, cast aside borrowed power, and you shall cry havoc as you ride across this world, and others, like Wodan upon his slippery steed, the Hunt loyal at your heels in eager chase into the depths of Hel.¡± ¡°Again, with the ominous bullshit,¡± I said. ¡°Kudos on cutting down on the atrocious alliteration, though.¡± I waited for a minute, rubbing my temples before continuing. ¡°Just answer me one final question, and please answer with as few words as possible.¡± ¡°Speak.¡± ¡°Where the fuck am I, and how do I get back to my friends.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. ¡°A simple matter,¡± it said. ¡°Just follow me, like doomed detritus beneath devoted albatross, undaunted and dogged it guides truly if faith is kept in kind.¡± ¡°Right, we were getting along for a moment there and you had to go and ruin it,¡± I said. With a sigh, I raised my hand and pointing forward. ¡°So that way, then?¡± ¡­ The fog of eldritch energy had begun to spread over the water, so it was almost a shock when my boat grounded upon a narrow beach littered with small stones and bits of broken shell. The boat ride had taken several hours, and I reflected that I probably could have made it back more quickly if I had simply swum using the decidedly odd method of locomotion the Fisher had created for me. I repressed a slight shiver at the thought of allowing that creature to bond with me once more. It was a useful trick, but one that I had not fully embraced. The boat ride was not in vain, however, as it had allowed me to process my gains from the previous battle. I wasn¡¯t sure the level of the creature I had slain, as analyze was no longer available to me and I was hesitant to use Eye of Madness in anything but the most extreme situations. Whatever its level, it had been worth a staggering amount of XP. I had gained six levels with a single kill, bringing me up to level fourteen, though the readout displayed it as (3/11) most likely due to the ¡°dead¡± levels I had gained before I had a class. It seemed strange that the system would allow such useless levels to exist if its whole reason for existing was to make its citizens strong enough to resist monsters created by eldritch mutations. Perhaps there was a hidden benefit to these levels or at least a way to remove them. The six levels I had gained granted me twelve unallocated stat points. When combined with my remaining four this gave me more than I needed to unlock the remaining ¡®pre-tutorial feats¡¯. I guess it was time to collect them. I wondered if I would get a shiny trophy to memorialize the achievement. Either way, I was running out of reasons to procrastinate. I immediately put three points into Agility, it was by far my weakest stat and a little extra flexibility would have gone a long way when I was being stretched apart by tentacles monsters ¡ª I really hoped that didn¡¯t become a common occurrence. The feat I was granted, Snake¡¯s Agility, was quite interesting. It would give me a higher level of body control and elasticity that increased as I raised the agility stat. It also had the somewhat creepy ability to ¡®increase one''s disposition with snakes and other reptiles.¡± Nothing made my skin shiver more than the thought of having ''disposition'' with snakes. A few points in Agility and Reaction and I¡¯d probably be the best juggler the world had ever seen, even better was the thought that I might be able to keep up with Tiller¡¯s crazy reflexes. Perhaps when this whole apocalypse thing was finished I could find a new gig. Augustus Finn¡¯s Three Ring Circus of Terror and Delight had a nice ring to it. I decided to increase the rest of the stats in one go ¡ª getting over my crippling indecisiveness like ripping off a Band-Aid. Even after putting three points into every stat, I still had four remaining so I did the sensible thing and put them into intellect ¡ª increasing the power of my magic, and advancing me closer to another free point in Might. I put three points into Might, Reaction, and Perception ¡ª completing the list. This left me with no more stat points, but a trifecta of new feats ¨C Titan¡¯s Might ?, Timed Reaction ?, and Eagles Sight ?. Each new feat acted to increase the effects of their respective stat. For instance, Eagle¡¯s Sight acted to increase the range of my senses, all senses not just sight. Titan¡¯s Might doubled my stamina regeneration, while also increasing my physical strength proportional to my remaining stamina, for a 50% boost when my stamina was full. Timed Reaction slowed down my perception of time slightly when I attempted to dodge or make ranged attacks. And that was it. I sat in my grounded boat, still staring at my status screen in disappointment. I had been sure that there would have been some benefit to gaining the tutorial feat for every stat and yet there was nothing. I closed and opened the status screen again, looking for notifications ¡­ still no new notifications. I shook my head, realizing my own greed. I already had an advantage almost no one else from Earth had ¡ª I might even be unique in not having had to go through the tutorial. I took another look at the feats, really looking at them this time rather than merely seeing them as steps towards something better. None of them were game changers on their own, but all together they added up to something greater than the sum of its parts. The ability to sense danger sooner and run away for longer might just help me live an extra day, or at least for a few additional seconds. Even then, anything more than surviving seemed a faraway goal best left to contemplate in later, safer times. I was in hostile territory, alone, and with no idea if my friends had even made it across the river. If I wanted to find them I had to move, I stepped onto the ground, my boat dissolving as soon as I had left it. In front of me were dunes covered in thick patches of tall beachgrass. I could feel small creatures, infected with eldritch energy, crawling beneath the hills of sand and through the reedy grass. Behind the dunes, I could make out the U-shaped courtyard of a hotel. Its once grand exterior was now broken and collapsed, its wooden skeleton and sun-bleached interior exposed to the cleansing rays of daylight. The building had the feel of a rotting cadaver, waiting to be feasted upon by scavengers. I slowly crept closer to the hotel but stopped when I noticed the smell of smoke and charred flesh. It was overwhelming, as I hadn¡¯t yet adjusted to my newly enhanced senses. The boost to Focus allowed me to filter out the smell, at least partially, but it was a constant distraction. I continued to move forward with small, precise movements. I was careful to keep low, never allowing any part of my body to rise above the dunes. Now that I had seen how incredibly powerful system-enhanced senses could become, I wouldn¡¯t underestimate any creature¡¯s ability to sense me through my amateur attempts at stealth. If I could smell them, they could probably smell me. As I reached the crest of the dunes, I lay prone and slowly crawled forward on my belly. Sand clung to my wet jumpsuit and got stuck in the folds of my leather jacket. My boots and belt were gone, but I had somehow managed to keep my grandfather¡¯s aviator jacket. I was amazed that it hadn''t been torn to shreds yet ... in fact, it didn''t seem to have taken any damage. In the distance, a small band of vaguely anthropoidal creatures huddled around a bonfire. The creatures had odd proportions, each with a pair of mismatched heads, short legs, and arms long enough to drag behind them on the ground. They had dark green skin and patches of black fur that ran down the center of their backs and clumped like thick rugs upon their chests. The largest slept, leaning against the side of the hotel with a chunk of charred meat still dangling from its open, greasy hand. None of the other creatures so much as dared to look at the vulnerable meal, instead staring at the small flank of meat being slowly roasted upon the fire. ¡°Can you get close without being seen?¡± I sent my thoughts to the Fisher. The only answer I received was a feeling of injured pride as a small kingfisher flew over my head and directly towards the ruined hotel. ¡°I hope he heard the ¡®without being seen¡¯ part,¡± I said, letting my face fall into the sand. Chapter 32: Into the Fore The Fisher proved to be a nimble and reliable scout. It was able to land on a window ledge far above the pack of humanoid creatures, keeping a quiet watch on them as I carefully made my way across the sand dunes that lined the rocky beach. I would occasionally use our connection to ¡®borrow¡¯ the creature¡¯s senses ¡ª giving me a disjointed feeling of vertigo as its vision merged with my own. If I closed my eyes and focused I was able to filter out everything except what the Fisher saw, as if I were watching over its shoulder. I could feel a desire to hunt and feast that grew more urgent with each passing moment. Watching creatures it considered prey annoyed the bird, filling us both with overwhelming desire to pounce. To act. I hurried towards the dunes at the end of the beach, knowing that I would not be able to reign in the creature¡¯s impulses for long. Even worse, I wasn¡¯t sure how much longer I could trust my own actions. Already I began to scan the horizon with the instincts of a predator looking for prey. I felt on edge as if some forgotten task was needling at my subconscious. My path along the beach took me took me to a grassy bend where I should be invisible to anything watching from the courtyard. Small creatures and insects burrowed through the sandy hill and yellow-brown mice darted through the reed-like beech grass. The vermin bent the green blades, leaving behind a quiet rustling as they scampered away from me. My eldritch senses showed me a bubble almost completely devoid of life, centered on myself. At some point I had become the predator the smaller creatures feared, trembling in their burrows at the passing of my shadow. The thought left me conflicted, both in awe at what I could become and with a great sense of sorrow at what I had lost. Was I a protector or a boogeyman? Would I have a choice? I used that emotion to push out everything else as I closed my eyes. I drew in the senses of the Fisher, using every ounce of focus I had to ignore the distractions of my own senses. The itch on my arm where it was rubbing up against dry sand evaporated, being replaced by the feel of wind twirling through my feathers. The ache in my recently healed ankle faded into the feeling of powerful talons sinking into the hard tile, loud cracks echoed out as I squeezed tighter. My limbs felt powerful as if they could carry me into the sky with a single pump. I reveled in the strength and sharpness of my claws as they sank into stone as if it were soft dough. My sense of smell was full of the sweet smell of earth and decay, of life and death in a constant cycle. Everything seemed clearer, lines were crisper, through the Fisher¡¯s eyes and yet there was a muteness to the color ¡ª the world seemed darker, less vibrant. Beneath me was the ruined courtyard, once the face of a five-star hotel, now vandalized and taken back to nature. Pool chairs and tables had been broken apart and stacked for firewood. Spindly weeds, bushes, and creeping vines had invaded the cobblestone and taken over the once perfect landscaping. The pool was empty of water and had been caved in on one side. Within the hollow grew a thick bramble of twisting branches covered in dagger-like thorns. Hidden within the toothy trap were fleshy blue fruits that grew between broad, oar-shaped leaves that were a bright, fiery red. Directly in front of me, past the courtyard and the narrow, stony beach, was the Charleston harbor. It was still heavy with rolling waves that crashed like hammers upon a shore that was blanketed by mist. This fog had rolled up from the sea to cover the entire area, giving me the feeling of looking down upon mountain tops poking through from beneath the clouds. A pressure began to build in the back of my mind, pulling on my consciousness like a rubber band almost at the point of snapping. My mind became fuzzy and it took all my focus and willpower to hold onto the connection. The growing pressure was like the lurch in my stomach during the initial drop of a roller coaster mixed with the swimming vision and confusion of being spun around until dizzy. Then being punched in the gut. I wasn¡¯t sure how much longer my brain could continue to process the dual sensory inputs, already my thinking was beginning to slow down as the pressure in the back of my head increased. Dark desires and indescribable images swam through my mind and it was taking more and more concentration to keep them from pushing out everything else.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. I always had the option of communicating with the Fisher through words or images, rather than usurping its senses directly. Despite this, I wasn¡¯t quite ready to trust its judgment or intentions. I didn¡¯t believe it meant me harm, at least not in the short term. I also knew it had its own ideas about what was ''good'' for me. I stopped admiring the sights, focusing on getting as much information as I could before the connection broke. The creatures living in the courtyard did not seem particularly active, instead, remaining mostly sedentary and opting to stay in their partially enclosed courtyard. They socialized through grunts as they huddled into small groups around the fire, watching meat become slowly overcooked. Occasionally, a pair would break off from the group with a slow and languid pace. At the beginning of each patrol, they would enter the ruins of the hotel before making a loop around the perimeter of the building where they would join the rest of the tribe. Their security was lax, but it at least showed that they had some understanding of cooperation as well as a primitive intelligence. Additionally, each wore crude clothing made from uncured leather and woven grass. This, combined with their ability to make fire, proved they had some level of technology. They couldn''t have just sprung from nothing a few weeks ago. There had to be more of them for their society to have advanced even to this primitive level. They may have been a group of survivors cut off or abandoned during the mass exodus caused by the pillar of light that still stabbed into the sky, faintly visible even through the obscuring mist and bright rays of the newly risen sun. I wanted to avoid a battle with them because in many ways they seemed like primitive humans. Ugly, misshapen humans, maybe, but still people. It would feel like murder if I attacked them unprovoked. That was a line I might never be able to come back from once crossed. A line some dark part of me was waiting to cross. Whatever the origins of the primitive humanoids, they seemed content to remain in their small domain. Their lack of exploration combined with their predictable routine had left me a clear path around them by heading south and west along the beach while making sure to keep the dunes between the creatures and myself. I slowly opened my eyes, letting go of the second set of senses. A feeling of relief and euphoria washed over me, it was like scratching a particularly annoying itch. My muscles relaxed as I released the tension with a few quick breaths. I gave a quick mental order telling the Fisher to fly above me and to watch for any danger. I could feel its pleasure as wind filled its wings and chunks of pulverized stone rained down from its former perch. It didn¡¯t report any creatures nearby that were large enough to be a threat, though I had learned that plants could be just as dangerous. Every step was potentially my last. I stopped to admire the fact that in many ways I was an explorer ¡ª every map of Earth would need to be redrawn and now the warnings here be monsters would have to be taken literally. I needed to make my way north to the site where my friends should have landed once they made it across the river. I trusted the group to take care of themselves, Catayla alone was probably a match for anything this world could throw at her. That didn¡¯t stop me from imagining the worst. Long before I took things such as apocalypses and Skills seriously, I had learned that even the strongest among us can be killed. I regretted leaving them, I had allowed emotion to overcome me and then acted without restraint or thought. It was possible, however, that by distracting the tentacles and pursuing the giant ovoid creature, I had bought my friends time. Hopefully, it had been enough. Orienting myself was not a problem, even with the thick mist and unfamiliar topography. If the pillar of light was not enough, then the unmistakable outline of the Yorktown was all the landmark that I would need. Despite this knowledge, the terrain and flora were new and completely unknown to me. I would need to proceed carefully. This entire area should have had almost no elevation, some places should have even been below sea level and yet hills and massive trees shaped the horizon into curves and green peaked spires. I decided to first go west along the beach before heading north. Heading directly north would take me too close to the creatures in the courtyard and would require me to traverse hills and thick forestation that were certain to slow me down. To the west of the hotel, the terrain was still mostly flat, with only a few short hills and rounded waterways to block my progress. The grass was overgrown and nearly waist high, and the hills and lakes had somehow twisted and grown larger as well ¡ª but it still looked like what it had been ¡­ a golf course. I had actually been there once, with my dad some of his business partners. It had been beautiful, but sterile and lacking any of the grace found in nature. Every blade of grass had been precisely cut with no plant or tree out of place ¡ª each leaf seemingly arranged by hand, and every flower expertly presented, each petal accounted for. I¡¯d heard it described unironically as, ¡°perfectly coiffed.¡± I had hated the artificial feel of it. Even the game had seemed more like an excuse to drink and drive while old men gossiped about golden times that had never truly existed. It was unlike the sense of danger, life and adventure I felt anytime I was near the ocean. Now, I¡¯d take a day on the course with the old man over just about anything. It was a foolish thing to mourn, but it struck me suddenly and I was left shaken as I remembered a world, and a man, that I would never see again. I quickly reigned in my feelings and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand before wading into the sea of grass. Chapter 33: Flowers of Change Other than the waist-high grass, the area in front of me was relatively open, with only a few hills and small lakes dotting the landscape. The grass itself was more rigid than I had expected, more like tiny stalks of bamboo than anything you would find in your front yard. The ends of each blade of grass were split into multiple thin threads topped by cottony wisps of blue that fluttered and spiraled up into the air as a slight breeze picked up from the east. The air around me was filled by these small particles as if someone had made a wish by blowing upon a giant dandelion, sending millions of tiny cerulean florets into the sky. I hesitated to enter the cloud, but I was anxious about rejoining my friends, and the substance didn¡¯t immediately appear dangerous. Even my mild pollen allergy was unaffected. Wait, I thought, do I even still have allergies? I knew the system had changed me at a fundamental level, but it was impossible to know every detail of those changes. Wading through the field did little to slow me down, most likely due to my strength, or Might, being nearly double what it had been before ¡®stats¡¯ were a realistic way of measuring human capabilities. I started off with a steady walk, carefully taking each step and occasionally stopping to scan for danger. I still had unpleasant memories of when Catayla had revealed a peaceful meadow full of flowers had instead been a trap for a carnivorous monster made of rotating teeth and bone smashing vines. I couldn¡¯t even trust the grass not to kill me. I missed the blue-scaled scout, she had a quiet competence that I enjoyed having on my side. Still, I was glad she was with Tiller and the others, as she was the main reason I was convinced the group had made it across the river. Without her, none of us would have made it. My plan to find them was simply to search the area around the riverbank near where they should have landed. I had judged that they were likely in a small range that ran from the remains of the Ravenel Bridge down to Patriots Point, where the Naval monument, the USS Yorktown, was still moored. If they had crossed back to the downtown side of the river, I would simply make the trip back across to join them. This seemed unlikely, however, as I knew Catayla would have pressed them to continue the mission, with or without me. I was headed north and slightly east across the golf course, a path I knew should bring me almost directly to where I needed to be. Navigating through the grass was made difficult due to the terrain changes that blocked my view of any easily identified landmarks. To my east were tall rocky hills and thick forestation that had replaced an area that was once nothing but flat, dusty land containing only a few sparse shrubs and loose pebbles. This blocked my view of the bridge and the Yorktown, forcing me to rely on memory to plan my route. To the west was an inlet across from which were the ruins of an old residential neighborhood that had been constructed from cookie-cutter McMansions decorated with tacky Greek-style pillars and thin brick facades, now mostly buried in earth and vegetation. Creepers grew up over the crumbled homes as if seeking to drag what little remained of human civilization back into the dirt. At some point, the neighborhood had been torched. Ash covered the ground like snow, lightly brushing across the dark browns of soil and the vibrant greens of freshly grown plant life. Brittle wooden boards, broken and burnt, stuck up from the earth like blighted teeth cast down into the ruins. A faint whiff of smoke mixed with the smells of soil, decay, and something more metallic. I could hear the wind as it played across the field, each blade of grass giving off a faint hum as the breeze touched it. As I set a foot down upon the ground I could feel the vibrations as they rose up through my bones and hear them as they spread out into the ground around me. My hearing and sense of touch, both improved by my Perception stat, combined to give me an acute sense of any vibrations in my immediate area ¡ª it was nothing compared to the sonar-sight I had temporarily gained while fused with the Fisher, but it could still be useful for sensing surprise attacks. My sense of smell had increased in power as clearly as my other senses had, but it would take time for me to learn how to interpret the myriad of information and the cryptic messages that were furiously assaulting my nostrils. The Fisher flew above me as it scanned for threats. I hadn¡¯t taken over its senses since it had started flying, as I felt it would be too disorienting while trying to move and would slow my reaction if I needed to quickly switch back to my own senses. Instead, I decided I had no choice but to trust it to warn me of any danger. The thought of its desires slipping into my own gave me a shiver, hairs standing up above my arms. No, it was best to save that trick for emergencies.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. I knew this area and it was a straight shot from here to Patriots Point Road, which I could follow east to quickly reach the area I intended to search. This knowledge tugged at my impatience, but I pushed it down and forced myself to continue my careful pace ¡ª at least for a short while. It didn¡¯t take long before I had abandoned caution and started sprinting at full speed. The ape-like monsters were long behind me, and the lack of apparent danger, combined with my concern for my friends, convinced me that speed was more important than being overly vigilant. My weight had increased only slightly as Might had grown, my muscles had firmed but not grown noticeably larger. The visible changes might have been due to the lack of Coke and junk food, rather than the system. No amount of exercise or diet, however, accounted for my new strength. This allowed each one of my steps to send me forward in great bounding leaps that carried me above the blades of grass before gravity would pull me down. It was almost like floating, with only brief stops to push off against the earth before flying once more. I applied one of my newest feats, Focused Min, to poor of all of my focus into the repetitive task. It might have been something like a ¡®runner¡¯s high.¡¯ I had heard about the phenomenon but had never achieved it for myself. Each step became more fluid and precise. Each movement seemed exact and measured with an almost machine-like efficiency, and there was none of the boredom or discomfort I normally associated with running. It was exhilarating, almost to the point that I had forgotten why I was running ¨C or to where. Within minutes I had cleared at least half the distance across the golf course. My focus began to wane, and I decided to stop on a small hill that poked up above the sea of grass. The experiencing of running under such an effect had been exhilarating, endorphins and adrenaline had flooded my system leaving me with a faint glow of pleasure. I was so much faster than before. I quickly realized that I had blocked off everything outside of what was necessary for the run itself. Instead, I had been focusing solely on running and the feeling of wind across my face and rhythm of the earth beneath my feet. It had felt freeing and euphoric but was foolish. The Fisher had been screaming in the back of mind, warning me. As I came to a stop, I could feel its frantic pleading as it called out to me, but it took me a moment to regain my senses. What is it bugging me about now? I thought. I called out to the creature, but it returned only feelings of excitement and fear. A desire to run overwhelmed with a sense of battle lust. A fight was coming, but all I could see was grass dancing in the gentle breeze. I was vaguely aware of a rustling sound when something large and heavy struck the back of my knees. I collapsed, and my shoulders struck the ground with a heavy thump that drove the wind from my lungs. My legs were the only part of me remaining airborne when something long and tensile wrapped around my left calf before tightening and dragging me into the air to dangle only a few feet above the ground. Two beady black eyes stared at me from above a mouth full of multiple rows of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. Enormous buck teeth poked out from beneath the snout of the creature, giving the otherwise razor filled maw an awkward appearance. Its ¡®fur¡¯ was green and mangy, like patches of grass growing out of diseased and putrid flesh. On its back was a large growth, much like the bulb of a flower. Thick black vines grew from the wilting top of the bulb and thrashed around the creature as they pounded at my ribs and limbs. I immediately activated my Arcane Shield and conjured a bladed staff of eldritch energy in my left hand. I lashed out at the appendage while grasping my leg, but I found myself being swung around and thrust into the ground. My head rang, and my stomach lurched as I tried to move. Bright flashes of light swam through my vision, accompanied by a symphony of tinnitus. The mild confusion and nausea quickly passed, and my shield had protected me from the worst of the damage ¡ª even my mana was mostly untouched. I was once more tugged into the air as I struck wildly with my conjured staff. Energy crackled as I began to create eldritch spikes in the air above me. Each was as long as a flagpole and pointed downward at my enemy. This proved to be overkill, however, when I heard the screech of a giant bird of prey piercing through the sky. The vine holding me fell to the ground, releasing me to roll into the sea of grass. ¡°Dammit,¡± I cried out. ¡°What the hell was that thing.¡± I sat up and looked at the creature. A large hole had been drilled through its head, and a giant kingfisher sat upon its shattered skull pulling long strips of flesh from the creature¡¯s back. ¡°Nice save, but I¡¯m not sure you should be eating that.¡± The bird gave no response, so I walked over to the creature and gave it a closer examination. It had the general shape of a large rat, and the two buck teeth reinforced my theory. A large, green bulb grew from the center of the creature¡¯s back, and thin, branching tendrils of plant matter grew down into the rat¡¯s flesh ¡ª fusing plant and animal. The bulb itself was made of four large leaves that closed into a point at the crest. The top of the bulb was slightly open, revealing red and gold petals. Thick black vines still grew from the center of the bulb but were beginning to liquefy and seep into the ground beneath the creature. I closed my eyes, readying myself to use the Eye of Madness to gather more information about the rat but a sharp chirp interrupted my concentration. I looked up at the bird, still feasting on the body, and I saw it shake its head slightly as if it to warn me. Instead, the Companion sent me an image of several more creatures around us. Bulbs, just like the one atop the giant rat, were hidden beneath the grass and spread around us at even intervals. I counted at least seven, but it was impossible to be sure. ¡°So, what do you suggest?¡± It looked up at me once more, before sucking down a strip of flesh in one gulp as if it were eating spaghetti. Images once more invaded my mind, outlining its plan. ¡°Okay,¡± I said, ¡°we¡¯ll do it your way this time.¡± Chapter 34: Out of the Breach My own eyes were unable to see the enemies that were spread out in the grass around me. I knew that they were there only because the Fisher had shared its memories with me, revealing the area around us in an incredibly detailed birds-eye-view map. It seemed unlikely that they would continue to wait for long. I would need to strike as fast and as lethally as possible before the creatures had a chance to launch their own attack. I closed my eyes, trying to build an image in my mind that contained the location of each of the bulbs and their direction and distance relative to myself, but simple memories and images wouldn¡¯t be enough. I needed to see. I took control of the Fisher¡¯s senses, trying to concentrate on only using its sight. I split my focus, using my bodies senses to listen and feel the vibrations in the air and ground. I saw myself standing on a small, bald hill like an island sticking up above waves of grass. Spores had spread out to fill the air around me with a blue haze as they danced upon eddies of wind that spun them into tight spirals and dizzying patterns. Below the haze, eight lines of rippling grass encircled me. Each row was rushing towards me from a different direction. Only the unusual pattern of movement showed that anything was wrong. Nothing could be seen within the ripples and they created no noise as they sped through the grass, parting it slightly behind them. I felt the Fisher grow anxious, its talons flexing, as it began a dive. Seven of the ripples came to a sudden stop and the grass began to weave together before growing into tall bulbs that appeared directly behind where the ripples had ended. The eighth ripple did not stop, instead, exploding into motion as claws and matted fur crashed into me from behind. My split focus had delayed my reflexes. I only lived because the other seven had held back, perhaps in caution as their opening attack probed my defense. The intelligence and coordination this showed terrified me. If humankind lost our only advantage, intelligence, to beasts, then what hope did we have to thrive in this new environment? The rat-plant thing that had attacked me proved that they were capable of incredible levels of stealth as well as debilitating sneak attacks. I wasn¡¯t sure I could handle the remaining monsters if they were able to get the drop on me. So far, they had remained hidden, but it had only been a scant few seconds since the first attack had ended. I would need to either attack all seven at the same time or find a way to defend against their immediate counter attack. I hated being on the defensive as it always felt like a losing strategy. Luckily, the Fisher had its own ideas about how we should handle the situation. Whatever the creature might be, it was not subtle. It had shared with me images detailing its plan to take out the creatures, though calling it a plan might be giving it too much credit. I sighed as I mentally agreed, giving it my permission to act. Now was not the time to reign in its bloodlust or its twisted sense of humor. The Fisher turned into a cloud of black and red smoke that flickered with its own internal light. The sun still shone in a clear blue sky above a field of rolling green and spinning sapphire, and yet for a moment, it was as if all color was drained from the world save for that infernal red glimmer. I snapped out of the moment, fully concentrated on my own senses, as I heard the familiar sounds of bones cracking. The slain rat-plant creature had slowly begun to rise from the ground with slow, twisting motions. It looked unnatural, like strings attached the creature to a sinister puppeteer. At first, the creature¡¯s stance was unsteady, and it wobbled upon weak knees and its head jerked back and forth in erratic, spine-cracking motions. The limbs quickly stiffened as the Fisher brought the corpse under its control. The creature gave out a roar as it charged forward and disappeared into the grass. As this was happening, I re-activated Arcane Shield and then filled everything around me with illusionary smoke that I sent deep into the grass, trying to fill the void between each blade. The Fisher would be unaffected by the illusion, but the plant-animal creatures would hopefully be blinded. Eldritch Mimicry gave me the ability to give these shadow illusions ¡®realness,¡¯ which allowed the smoke to take on a viscous quality that would cling to anything it touched, hampering their movements. The grass grew heavy and began to flatten. I felt the Fisher reach its first target, sharp fangs bit into cold flesh as vines wrapped around limbs. My mind was full of confusing images shared through our bond, and I could sense the metallic taste of blood as it slid across my companion¡¯s tongue. Apparently, the strips of flesh it had torn from the body of its current host had not been enough to satisfy its appetite.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. As soon as the Companion met its first target, I followed the plan and opened the Eye of Madness, choosing to use it as a group debuff rather than focusing it on a single object. I could feel a physical eye appear in the middle of my forehead, closed but slowly opening. Images of fire filled my vision as the eye grew wider. My eyes stung, and I could taste smoke as it sought to invade my lungs. I coughed, grabbing at my throat as if I could not breathe. I looked around to see an inferno had consumed the grassland around me. Screams rose up like the howls of the earth itself ¡ª rising from beneath my feet in a deep rumble. I was lost in the illusion for a moment, but I would not allow myself to succumb to my own attack. I pushed the images away, using every shred of willpower and Focus I had left. As reality returned the rumbling screech rising from the ground crashed into me like a physical wave, sending my hands up to my ears. The earth shook, not in a steady rhythm, but in large, violent jerks as if explosions were being set off deep below. The grass began to sway and stretch out in every direction. I could feel their pain, each blade of grass a single nerve that exploded in agony as fire consumed it. My own nerves cried out in sympathy and I sank to my knees as I fought back against the anguish. The eye on my forehead threatened to close as my Focus waned. I brought shaking hands up to feel my bleeding nose, shouting in rage as I fought against the fatigue. The eye closed a bit more, the only thing keeping it open was my stubborn refusal to give in to the pain. I only needed a few more moments ¡­ My Pain Tolerance skill did little to block the illusory pain as my muscles clenched and my vision began to swim in flashing lights. I held out, feeding the pain into my anger ¡ª allowing my rage to grow rather than succumb to the weakness. I stood and looked out over the grassy field once more. I had it, the location of each creature was blazoned into my mind. The Fisher shared this information, immediately transforming into a giant kingfisher as it exploded into the air leaving its former host as a mist of red and green. It hunted, its motions quick and efficient. The beak and claws of the bird effortlessly tore through each skull as easily as it had torn into the skull of the first rat. Unable to hide, they were defenseless to the bird. My concern did not lessen, however, as I was drawn into a greater connection ¡ª a link between each of the slain monsters. Deep beneath me was ¡­ something. I could feel it, a system of roots tangle beneath the ground drawing sustenance from above. The grass, the roots, and my attackers were all a single organism, a single mind with a singular goal. To feed. The Eye of Madness drifted closed, and I fell once more to my knees. I could feel myself slowly losing my grip on reality. It was becoming harder to tell who I was, the man or the plant beneath his feet, and the feeling of my nerves burning soon became unbearable. I had to expel these invaders on my surface! I stood, letting the eye fade leaving only a faint glow where it had been on my forehead. I felt a dull ache in my chest, and my breathing was heavy and came in uncontrolled gasps. A deep cough that rattled my chest. At the same time, I could feel the earth beginning to quiet. As I looked out, I saw the grass go still. Even the breeze had gone silent. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as the grass began to sink into the ground, leaving behind a plain of dirt filled with small holes and littered with corpses. It was like standing on a giant scalp and watching strands of hair being sucked back into the skin ¡ª incredibly unsettling. The newly bare earth revealed seven bodies laid out around me in an almost a perfect circle. Each corpse had either a large bulb or a red and gold flower growing from its back, and thick tendrils of plant matter growing into its flesh. They were not all the same creature, however. I saw two more of the mutant rats, now dead and broken. Among the dead were also what looked like a giant praying mantis, a horse, and some kind of dog that had grown as large as a sedan and was covered in thick cords of bulging and asymmetric musculature. The remaining two bodies were too mutilated to recognize, other than being able to tell that they had been some kind of quadruped. I didn¡¯t truly understand what kind of creature I was up against, but it seemed clear it was retreating. It was impossible to say for how long it would do so. A panicked and cornered creature the size of an entire golf course was not something I felt ready to take on directly. As effective as the Eye of Madness had been, it would have diminishing returns and was nearly as debilitating to me as it was to any potential enemy. The Fisher was still in its avian form, once more feasting on carrion while showing no distinction between flesh and plant. It seemed to be absorbing eldritch energy directly from the air. It had no need to eat. The battle hadn¡¯t done much for me either, as I had gained only a single level in Eye of Madness as well as roughly enough XP to progress ten percent towards my next level. I didn¡¯t stick around to examine these gains, however, instead choosing to escape while I still had the chance. I put as much distance between the site of the battle as I could and quickly eliminated most of the distance across the golf course. The black tar of a nearby road soon came into view, and I poured everything I had into the sprint as if I was in the final stretches of a race. I quickly reached my destination, but what I found there almost made me want to turn around and take my chances with the sentient golf course. It at least I understood. The road was cracked and overgrown and had the empty shells of cars littering its length. Across the street I saw a half-collapsed building, now spilling bricks and green shingles into the street. The more important detail was the large metallic box the size of a single-story house and supported by wheels as high as I was tall. It was angular and sleek and painted with white lines and alien symbols. Three large turrets stood atop its roof, and many smaller guns lined its sides. Standing atop the vehicle, beside an open hatch, was a familiar face. ¡°I see you have managed to survive, Mr. Finn.¡± Chapter 35: Isolation I stepped towards the alien captain, gravel cracking as I crushed it between my boots and the hard pavement. The Fisher was screaming warnings in the back of my mind, but I didn¡¯t need the blotchy images it sent to know that there were two soldiers approaching from behind. They had given up all pretenses of stealth. Each step was like the pounding of a drum, but I had no illusions I would have heard them had they not wished it. It was a warning. We are here, behave. I briefly wondered how long they had been following me, but it was useless speculation if they were even half as talented as Catyala. They could have been my shadow since I¡¯d first stepped onto the beach, and I¡¯d have never known. Sebbit climbed down from the top of the massive transport ¡ª more of a tank really. His skin was a crimson that was a few shades darker than the blood red of his uniform. The raised bumps and jagged scars that lined his face gave his face the appearance of being hewn from coarse rock. He carried no weapon, but still held himself with an air of intimidating strength. The captain was shorter than any of his soldiers, but I still had to look up to make eye contact and I was considered tall, at least by human standards. Four massive Peacekeepers flanked their commanding officer, two on each side. Several more stood atop the vehicle, each staring down at me with steely eyes. The giant soldiers stood at perfect attention, with one hand resting on the butt of their rifles and unreadable expressions on their faces. ¡°Sebbit,¡± I said, subconsciously raising my hands slightly to keep them in view. ¡°Is everything all right? Do you know where Catayla and the others are?¡± ¡°My subordinate is fine, Mr. Finn,¡± the alien said in the dull monotone of his computer translator. ¡°As are the rest of your companions. I understand they are worried about your fate and are most likely looking forward to a reunion. I hope to facilitate that meeting as soon as I am able.¡± Sebbit walked closer, his pace slow and measured. He kept eye contact with me the whole time, and even though his body language was relaxed my instincts screamed at me that I was in danger. ¡°Are they here?¡± I asked, slightly raising my chin to point towards the massive vehicle that Sebbit had descended from. ¡°I¡¯ve been trying to join back up with them. We got separated after an attack on the river ¡ª we were actually trying help Catayla find you.¡± ¡°I have been briefed, Mr. Finn. Thank you for your assistance in the matter.¡± ¡°How did you find them?¡± I asked. ¡°And how did you find me so quickly? I appreciate it, of course, but I¡¯m surprised to find you here ¡­ waiting for me?¡± In answer, Sebbit reached down to his belt and unclipped a small disk with a single depression in the center. ¡°Every Peacekeeper carries one of these. I believe you have one as well, yes?¡± I nodded. ¡°Yes, uh, Catayla gave it to me in case we needed to communicate. It hasn¡¯t worked since the sky exploded and that pillar of light appeared. She claimed that communication had been cut off due to some kind of interference. That¡¯s why we were looking for her ¡­ I mean your Peacekeepers.¡± The alien captain stared at me in silent appraisal, pausing for an uncomfortably long ten seconds or so before speaking once more. ¡°If you would return the tracking device, Mr. Finn, I would appreciate it. They are generally not loaned to outsiders.¡± ¡°Tracking¡­?¡± I said. ¡°Sure, uh ¡­ here.¡± I threw it to him with a gentle underhand. ¡°I¡¯m just here to help, I¡¯m not looking for any trouble.¡± I subconsciously took a step backward, but I collided with a wall of scaled flesh. I hadn¡¯t noticed them get so close. Had I been that distracted? ¡°You seem nervous, Mr. Finn. Do not worry, I will be asking you to honor that promise of cooperation, in due time, but for now I am afraid that it is you who is once more in need of my help.¡± ¡°Me?¡± My voice wavered. There was no threat to be found in Sebbit¡¯s mechanical voice, but I couldn¡¯t help but feel uneasy. He¡¯d helped me in the past, and yet something about his manner told me this time was different ¡­ his face was the same unreadable mask it had always been.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Yes, Mr. Finn,¡± he said. ¡°It seems you have been infected, a pervasive corruption that threatens to overwhelm you both mentally and physically.¡± He stepped towards me once more, this time coming within arm¡¯s length of me before reaching out a hand and gently plucking something from my shoulder. One of the Peacekeepers behind me grasped my arms, holding me still as Sebbit continued to examine me. It was a claustrophobic feeling; my heart rate increased, and my breath came in short, ragged pants. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up straight and sweat poured down my back despite the chill that ran up my spine. I gulped and looked away, breaking eye contact with Sebbit for the first time since the conversation had begun. ¡°I¡¯m ¡ª" ¡°Do not worry, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit said. He held up his hand and showed me a small particle, the blue stood out in sharp contrast against the redness of his palm. ¡°The Tartarus Grass is deadly, and its spores can induce a fate even worse than death, but we¡¯ve had to deal with its likes before. We will cleanse it, and you ¡ª in good time.¡± ¡°Tartarus Grass, I¡­¡± I realized that he was talking about the creatures I had fought and the massive intelligence that controlled them from its hiding place beneath the earth. I let out my held breath in a sigh of relief. I clenched my hands and squeezed my eyes shut, calming my nerves before looking back towards the alien captain once more. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°That thing will be in my nightmares for quite a while.¡± ¡°You are welcome,¡± Sebbit said. ¡°I am, however, surprised at how well you are taking the news, you seemed almost relieved to find out it was the Tartarus Grass infecting you.¡± He crossed his arms, raising a single, clawed finger to rough skin of his chin. He regarded me, staring silently ahead. I wanted to speak, but each time I held back because it seemed as if the Captain was on the verge of saying something. ¡°Well, I mean ¡ª¡± I finally said, before being interrupted. ¡°It seemed that perhaps you thought I meant something else, Mr. Finn? How many corrupting influences might you be under? Perhaps, we will have time to talk about your other secrets soon? For now, I am going to have to ask that you join me, as my guest. I apologize that I cannot extend this conversation further.¡± He looked over my shoulder and gave a slight nod before turning on his heel with a sharp and practiced twist that ending with him walking back towards the transport. The hands that still rested on my arms tightened, twisting my hands behind my back as something cold and hard snapped around my wrists. I immediately felt weak and would have fallen to my knees if those same hands hadn¡¯t clamped down even harder. I yelled out and tried to shrug off my captors, but I found that my arms were useless. My limbs felt numb and tingled with pinpricks as if my circulation had been cut off. ¡°What have you done to me?¡± Sebbit stopped, taking the time to turn his head towards me a final time. He glanced at my two captors and gave a nod which prompted them to let me fall to my knees. They continued to watch as I tumbled into the road, bits of shattered pavement grinding into my face like sandpaper. ¡°I have done nothing to you, Mr. Finn. I have not removed anything that was yours to begin with. You will feel weak, but it will pass as your body quickly adapts to your natural strength. You are no weaker now than you were before the system saved this primitive world, and no permanent harm has been done to you.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯ve chained and crippled me ¡­ is this how you generally treat allies? I was helping you, God dammit. I risked my life to help Catayla. I almost died trying to help her find you.¡± ¡°Allies are those I trust, Mr. Finn. They are those with whom I share a common cause, those that do not lie to me, and those that I can rely on to have my back ¡ª you, Mr. Finn, have none of those qualities. You will be treated fairly, and in accordance with imperial law and Peacekeeper protocol ¡ª I recommend you cooperate fully. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have work to do.¡± I felt cold metal digging into my wrists as I was dragged to my feet. *** I awoke in a small cell. The pale grey paint was chipping from the walls and the only furniture was the concrete slab I was currently laying on and a metal toilet in one corner. I felt cold, and I recognized the early pangs of hunger. No one had taken the time to give me so much as a mattress, let alone a blanket or food. The cuffs were gone, but I could feel bruising on my arms. Otherwise, I was unhurt but still felt weak as if my muscles had atrophied. Even sitting up was a major undertaking that left me feeling dizzy and short of breath. There were no windows or bars and the only door was a solid piece of metal without so much as a sliding panel or a slot to pass things through. I was completely isolated. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I had been here. It felt almost a day, judging from the hunger, but it could have only been hours or minutes. At first, I yelled, demanding to be released. My screams soon devolved into sorrowful pleading and promises. I also tried pounding on the door, but my fists quickly became bruised. I was surprised by how fragile I had become. I had grown used to feeling like a demi-god capable of superhuman feats. Now¡­ I just felt human. Tired. I spent hours trying to open my stats. I used mental commands and visualizations, even spoken commands, but nothing happened. Nothing. Even the Fisher had gone silent. I felt a sense of loss almost as great as if I¡¯d lost a limb, a part of me. I¡¯d only had access to the system for a relatively small part of my life, but already I had grown accustomed to it ¡ª dependent even. After failing to view my stats I tried casting a spell, hoping that perhaps I was only blocked from viewing my abilities and not cut off from them entirely. It was useless. Powerless and bored, a maddening combination. With nothing to do and no hope of escape, I closed my eyes once more. I would simply have to wait for them to come to me ¡ª hopefully, I wouldn¡¯t die of thirst, or boredom, in the meantime. Chapter 36: Recollect and Recover Eat, sleep, shit ¡ª I lost track of home many times I repeated this pattern. There was no point of reference with which to measure time; the sun rose and fell beyond my sight and no trace of its splendor pierced the walls of my prison. The minutes conspired, disappearing into a vast sea of uncertainty that filled the time between the mundane moments of my life. On one such day, or perhaps night, I awoke to a meal of water held in a metal carafe and a bar of some kind of brown-grey substance, both served on a red, ceramic plate. It was expected, and it didn¡¯t taste nearly as bad as it looked, but I couldn¡¯t bring myself to move. What was the point? Why did they even bother feeding me if they were going to leave me here to rot? Sebbit must have a use for me. He had at least taken some pains to keep me alive, why else feed me? The captain didn¡¯t seem like the type to expend resources without a purpose. Had I been judged already, condemned to rot in forgotten solitude? I whispered to myself, but no one answered. I had tried finding the place, the Mindscape, that the Fisher had shown me. He had claimed it was a part of my own mind, so I theorized I should be able to enter it again. Despite having no lack of quiet or time with which to practice, my meditations were either useless or faded into restless sleep. The bird never answered my pleas for help ¡ª it was dead or lost. Or perhaps it had forgotten me as well? Could they keep me like this forever? Sebbit didn¡¯t seem the type to murder me out of hand, but I had no idea what system of laws and justice he followed. I only knew he would follow them, likely to the letter with machine-like efficiency and lack of empathy. I remembered something my father had once told me, ¡°true justice is free of mercy.¡± It was a comforting thought until one ran up against that justice. I would have to hope that Peacekeeper law ¡ª or Hegemonic law, I wasn¡¯t sure on the exact relationship between the two ¡ª would grant me some version of basic ¡®human¡¯ rights. I suppose the term would need to be updated. In the meantime, I waited. In my moments of clarity, I kept my mind active by reviewing the events of the past weeks. I would replay images, and dwell on my mistakes. I had more of them than I care to admit. My memory was still sharp, much sharper than it had been before the system had enhanced it ¡ª though not to the superhuman level I had recently grown used to. I wasn¡¯t sure if this meant that I still had some bonus from the system, or if there were other explanations. The Fisher seemed an obvious suspect ¡­ or at least a source of information. I had never imagined I would desire the unsettling creature¡¯s company. Hell, I¡¯d even overlook its riddles and alliteration ¡­ well, to a point anyway. Were my abilities truly gone? Perhaps I was only blind to them or they had been countered by some temporary effect. I decided to test my physical capabilities to get some form of baseline. I wasn¡¯t a gym rat before Eldritch Night, but I tried to keep in shape and knew I could pop of forty pushups without much problem. I just had to test to see if I was stronger. ¡­ 82 ¡­ 83. I collapsed onto the hard floor with a sheen of sweat flowing over my back. I grabbed the tray, finishing the water before I had made it back to the cold slab I used as a bed and chair. I was much stronger than I remembered, but not unreasonably so. I¡¯d been through enough in the past few weeks that I was probably in much better shape. Combine that with the system healing me and keeping me healthy, and it¡¯s possible my natural muscle fibers had grown quite a bit stronger ¡ª even without system enhancements. The test might have been inconclusive, but exercise at least gave me a purpose. I needed a goal to focus myself towards, something to keep my mind from deteriorating further. From then on, my every waking moment was spent alternating between calisthenics and meditations. Only rarely would I fall into fits of talking to myself or calling out for the Fisher. Sometimes I would shout at the walls or bargain with myself in quiet whispers. At other times, I would sit in meditation, despite having no real sense of how to do so. During one particularly bad night, I dreamt that Liv visited me. She stood over my bed, smiling as she gazed down at me. As she left, I sat up and caught a glimpse of her turning her head. The right side of her face had been burned horribly, now nothing but scar tissue resembling melted wax. ¡°Liv,¡± I yelled, but found myself staring at an empty grey wall. I had other dreams, but none so vivid. I found meditation before sleep helped to calm me and kept the worst of the dreams at bay. I also kept the hope that I could find escape ¡ª even if it was into my own mind. It hadn¡¯t born fruit yet, but I did find the practice surprisingly comforting. It brought me to the realization that what I desired was control, even over myself. The promise of the Mindscape was false. It was a plaything, something I could mold to my own desires but that had no power in the real world. Sleep would elude me, I realized. Already, my mind was spinning with conflicting emotions and speculation. The Fisher might be gone. I need to ¡­This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I was startled from my thoughts; the hissing of pressurized air being released was accompanied by the clicking of metal gears grinding against each other. The door of my prison cell slid open, disappearing into a recess in the wall. Within the doorframe stood a tall silhouette backed by dull blue light. There had been no warning, and at first, my mind didn¡¯t register the event. This couldn¡¯t be real. Had that door ever opened? Could it? But then it hit me; sweet, unfiltered air filled my cell. It was slightly cooler outside the room and the breeze this created felt like silk against my face. I breathed in deeply before looking up. ¡°You¡¯re not who I was expecting,¡± I said. ¡°Go away.¡± ¡°And who, exactly, were you expecting?¡± Catayla was wearing a new uniform, this one completely white and without any armored plates. The full body jumpsuit had no adornments except for a single circular patch on the left shoulder ¡ª three interlocking gold lines atop a cluster of leaves affixed to a blue-green background. She had no weapons, but she was carrying a small tray covered with a white cloth. ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± I answered. ¡°Someone I didn¡¯t want to throttle for selling me out and leading me into a trap, perhaps?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not exactly how it happened, Finn. I had a job to do, and you were only a small part of that. Did you think we were friends? Even if we were, did you think I would betray my own people?¡± ¡°I thought we were a team,¡± I said. ¡°I trusted you. I chose to trust you despite having every reason not to. I risked my life fighting beside you, so yes ¡ª I thought we were friends.¡± This seemed to affect her, and she stared at me silently for a few moments before continuing. ¡°Finn ¡ª¡±. ¡°Look, let¡¯s forget it. We¡¯re not a team, you were only following orders. I get it. You¡¯re a soldier. Just tell me why you¡¯re here.¡± Catayla walked over and took a seat on the cold slab that had failed in every way to resemble a bed or a comfortable place to sit. I kept her gaze as I stood, my legs popping from having been forced into an uncomfortable position for way too long. ¡°Do you know why I¡¯m here¡­¡± she motioning for me to wait when I tried to interrupt. ¡°Please, just listen for a moment? We suspect that you were involved with a group of cultists, traitors that have infiltrated and sabotaged your world.¡± ¡°Is this because of the Eye?¡± I asked. ¡°Sebbit knew I lied about it, I get it. Is that really enough of a reason to keep me in solitary confinement for weeks?¡± ¡°Six days, Finn,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s only been six days, and we needed that time to finish our investigation. If you cooperate I believe Se¡­ Captain Xern, will be lenient on you.¡± ¡°Six? ¡­ that can¡¯t. And the others? Tiller, is he okay? Bridgette and Worthy ¡ª did everyone make it over the river?¡± ¡°Tiller is here, we¡¯ve built a base out of an abandoned Naval vessel,¡± Catayla said. ¡°The others all survived and have been returned to the human settlement, New Charleston.¡± ¡°Thank you, I¡¯m glad you helped them. Is Tiller a prisoner too, can I see him?¡± ¡°No,¡± she shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s not a prisoner, but he doesn¡¯t have free reign of the facility, either. He insists on talking with you, but command, Captain Xern, has decided that all interactions with you are to be limited.¡± ¡°Are you going to tell me why you¡¯re here, then? There isn¡¯t much I can tell you. I¡¯ve only been part of one ¡®cult¡¯ and I doubt you¡¯d be interested in anything that went on at St. Mary¡¯s.¡± ¡°We know. We¡¯ve been tracking and recording you since even before I gave you the disk. We don¡¯t suspect you are in league with the Separatists, but you are connected somehow. You likely had contact with them shortly before the system¡¯s intervention.¡± ¡°Separatists?¡± I asked. ¡°That sounds an awful lot like an internal matter. Something I, or anyone from Earth, would have nothing to do with.¡± ¡°Eat,¡± she said. She uncovered the tray, revealing a small loaf of bread, a few red berries, and a glass of a golden-brown liquid. ¡°Afterwards, you can tell me everything you know, and we¡¯ll both have to trust that my superiors will know what to do.¡± ¡°Is that¡­¡± I asked while staring at the tray. ¡°Sweet tea,¡± she answered. ¡°Tiller mentioned it was something of a favorite of yours.¡± ¡°Well, you catch more bees with carrots ¡­ Or was it the stick?¡± *** The door slid closed behind Catayla, leaving me alone once more. I thought back over our conversation. We had spoken for several hours, and I¡¯d held almost nothing back. The only secret I¡¯d kept to myself was the existence of the mental space that the Fisher occupied, and its ability to speak with me there. I had told Catayla everything that had happened since seeing the burning eye. I told her about waking up unharmed in a puddle of my own blood all the way up to my battle with the Tartarus Grass. She already knew most of it, but she still made me recount every second of it in clear detail. She hadn¡¯t answered any of my questions about the cultists or Separatists, but I was somehow certain that they were connected. Had someone I knew played a role in the end of the world? Was it more than random chance? The thought scared me more than I can explain. If the event that had destroyed Charleston was not random chance, but instead something engineered, then the implications were terrifying. It could happen anywhere, anytime. Could eldritch abominations and planet-devouring Elder Gods simply be summoned like an Uber? Why would such beings even care about what lowly humans did? We were nothing but ants fighting over a pebble in their eyes. The Fisher was proof that I shared some connection to those events, and Catyala had asked me about him several times. She seemed particularly concerned with how we communicated and if I shared its memories. We also spent at least an hour going over my actions on the days leading up to Eldritch Night, but I couldn¡¯t imagine how anyone I knew could be part of some intergalactic cult. Troy couldn¡¯t be bothered to get up early for church, and my family? Way to conservative to get involved in anything that didn¡¯t involve Jesus and flag waving. The most interesting part of my conversation with Catayla was not anything she said, but something I discovered on my own. During the entire interrogation, the cell door had remained open, no doubt a tactic to make me feel more relaxed. Not only did this allow the sweet smell of fresh air into my room but it also brought with it small amounts of something else. I could no longer see it, but I recognized the familiar texture. It was faint, almost non-existent, but it was there. I focused, finding small traces of the energy everywhere. It was in the air, and in the food I ate. It clung to Catayla in a thin sheen that was gradually thinning as she absorbed the energy. I breathed it in and I could feel it invigorating me. It was a subtle change, but very real. I reached out and gathered as much of the energy as I could, being certain not to touch the small amount surrounding Catayla. I had no reason to think she would detect the change, but I had no idea what skills or technology the Peacekeepers had. I kept this process up for the rest of the conversation, slowly gathering trickles of the black-red energy into my closed hand. When Catayla had finally left, the door closing with the hiss of pneumatics and grinding steel, I held out my fist and slowly unfolded trembling fingers. Resting in the center of my palm was a small sphere no larger than a marble ¡ª a marble made of pure eldritch energy. Chapter 37: Past Liv(es) I had it! In my hands, I held the power I needed to escape. With a little time, I could ¡­ what exactly could I do? I barely had enough energy to shape into a spoon let alone dig through walls made from steel and then fight my way through a detachment of seven-foot alien marines. My exuberance slowly faded into a quiet melancholy, leaving a slight ache in my cheeks. I must have been grinning like an idiot. I¡¯d need to be much subtler if I was going to experiment with the energy. If I was lucky they¡¯d just think I had gone mad. I either had a mental twin or an alien parasite in my mind, hell maybe both, so maybe thinking me mad wasn¡¯t an unreasonable conclusion. I held the pebble in my closed fist. Waves of energy coming off the bead were visible to my senses, its energy like a black sun sucking out all the heat and life around it. This proved that my abilities were not entirely gone, but what should I do now? If I were discovered things would probably only get much worse. I considered letting it go, allowing the eldritch energy to vanish into the ether. Sebbit was not unreasonable, if I could show him I was trustworthy ¡­ or maybe after enough time, he¡¯d just let me go. I was quickly disillusioned with such a plan, not because it wasn¡¯t the best course of action but because I was constitutionally unable to simply sit and wait. I needed to do something. Anything. The sphere of energy was dense enough to flatten into a dagger or a tool, like a wrench or a screwdriver ¡ª though I couldn¡¯t think of any possible way those items would allow me to escape. If I did escape, what then? I was being held prisoner by what was, for all ostensible purposes, an alien occupation force that was hundreds or even thousands of years more technologically advanced than humans. I was pretty sure they had planned for ¡®bad guy with a screwdriver.¡¯ At least of the non-sonic variety. Think! What would my father do? ¡­ What would the Fisher? I sighed in frustration, sinking back into the hard wall as I pondered my open palm. If anyone had seen me they would have thought I had finally snapped. Unless they realized the truth, that is. You¡¯re being watched ¡­ This idea filled me with a sense of dread and I immediately clamped shut my hand, leaving the ball of energy within my closed fist. Catayla had given me no indication that I was being watched, and there were no visible cameras, but how much did that really tell me? Anything was possible when dealing with the Peacekeepers. Sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, plus ¡­ they had actual magic. Magic that had shown itself to be extremely variable and powerful. I doubted I was anywhere close to seeing the limits of it. This didn¡¯t stop me, it just convinced me to be more discrete. I had hoped to practice with the energy by shaping it into tools and weapons. It was a minuscule amount of the energy, but it represented a chance to exercise and grow my shaping skills. Real skill, not the sterilized and easily quantifiable version granted by the system. There was no way such actions wouldn¡¯t draw attention. If I was going to practice it would have to be something less visible. Something more ¡­ internal. With a thought, I released the energy. It quickly separated into innumerable threads that fled in every direction ¡ª or they would have had I not exerted my control once more. I guided them gently, allowing a small number of the threads to be absorbed back into my outstretched hand. The process was slow and excruciating. Every thread felt like a cold needle slowly being pushed through my skin. And there were hundreds of them. I willed my face to stay still, wearing a stony mask as I screamed internally. More¡­ I stopped holding back and allowed every speck of energy to flow into me. Cold numbness replaced the pain. Energy cascaded down my arm and into my chest like a flood of frigid water. Feelings of anger and loneliness overwhelmed my senses, threatening to drag me down into the depths of depression and self-loathing. The sensation quickly passed, but I was left with the echoes of the emotions and unable to determine if they had originated from within. It was as if I had, for just a moment, been completely cut off from any sense of connection or belonging, as if I were alone in a hostile and unforgiving universe. I shivered for a moment as I contemplated my situation. Depression did not seem unreasonable, and yet I had never felt such absolute despair before. I was pretty sure it would have shown up by now if I was predisposed towards it. I knew that the energy could shape reality. Could it shape emotion as well? Perhaps it was the other way around ¡ª my own emotions warping and amplifying the effects of the energy. I was beginning to understand why the system filtered and sterilized the energy before allowing it to be used. There were no easy answers to be had so I turned my attention back to the energy that was now flowing through my body. In the past, I had never been able to contain the energy within myself, instead always needing to draw it from the environment or from the Fisher. The eldritch energy that I had tried to hold onto in the past would quickly be absorbed and either lost or converted into mana. Whatever the Peacekeepers had done to me seemed to arrest this effect, preventing me from absorbing the energy. Perhaps someday I would thank Sebbit and his goons for giving me this opportunity. I spread the threads of energy as evenly throughout my body as possible. I could only consciously control a small number of them at a time, but the rest seemed to respond to my intent. Within moments almost every inch of me was infused.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. I could feel every speck of energy as it coursed through my veins. It suffused my flesh and sank into my bones. There was so little of it, and yet it seemed infinitely capable of transformation ¡ª easily stretching to fill the shape of my body. I closed my eyes, focusing on the energy. What came next might have been the closest I had ever come to achieving a true meditative state, despite my previous attempts. All of my focus was on the energy within, canceling out any distracting thoughts or outside stimuli. Not only could I feel the energy, I could feel how it interacted with my cells. I didn¡¯t feel stronger, but I felt an awareness of my own body that surpassed anything I had experienced before. Now that I had claimed it, the energy felt different, more responsive. Each particle was as much a part of me as were my own limbs. It was also ¡­ incomplete. I could feel more of it calling out to me, cut off from me but still resonating and connected to the energy coursing within me. I traced that bond and heard faint whispers as images filled my mind, but I quickly lost the thread and the images faded. I¡¯m not sure how long I stayed like that, perhaps hours. The thought occurred to me that it was a good thing that I had established meditation as part of my normal routine over that last few days. If I was going to avoid suspicion I needed to maintain that routine, slowly increasing the time I spent meditating. Doing a few push-ups fit into my normal pattern and would allow me to test if my strength had improved. I had gained a fairly good idea of my own capabilities over that last few days, so any significant improvement should be easily noticed. After about eighty push-ups, I could feel my arms beginning to weaken and every additional repetition became more difficult ¡ª I was collapsed on the floor by the time I reached ninety. It was an increase, but small enough that the rest and food could explain it. The exercise had, however, increased my awareness of my own muscles. I could feel each muscle fiber as it contracted and expanded. The details were faint, but I could ¡®see¡¯ each of the strands and where they attached to ligament and bone. This greater awareness of my own body also showed me that my form was sloppy as hell. I was allowing my back to arch, and my elbows flare out way too far. It was easy to correct, and I experimented with a few more push-ups, immediately feeling the increased difficulty. It had been a little disconcerting watching myself like that, it felt almost like an out of body experience. I rested with my back against the wall, giving myself a short recovery time before trying again. This time I wanted to try focusing the energy that was spread throughout my body into the muscles being used. My new awareness would make them easy to identify. Hell, I could literally feel muscles I never knew I had. I had a theory that I could use the energy to pull and push in time with my muscles, not actually making them stronger but augmenting them by mimicking their actions. I tried a few stretches and began doing more push-ups. Just as I pushed my chest off the floor for the first time, the door to my cell began to open. These fuckers just can¡¯t get enough of me, I thought. I was surprised by my own reaction. After nearly letting isolation drive me crazy, I now wanted nothing but to be left alone to figure out my newest puzzle. My hesitation faded, and my mood improved as I noticed faint inflows of energy, faint eddies of black and red that slowly filtered into my cell. As if by reflex, I immediately began absorbing the energy, letting it flow into my pores rather than collecting it in a single point. ¡°Back already? I was just starting to enjoy the peace and quiet. This place could use turndown service, though. Tell your manager I really like those tiny chocolate mints.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ve mistaken me for someone else, Mr. Finn,¡± said the familiar sound of a mechanical translator. I turned my head and found the red-skinned Peacekeeper captain staring down at me. Shit, my sarcasm might have at least gotten a smirk from Catayla. I wasn¡¯t sure Sebbit even had emotions, and if he did ¡®a sense of humor¡¯ was probably something he only brought out on special occasions ¡­ like funerals. ¡°Sebbit, buddy,¡± I said with a mock smile. ¡°Here to let me go? Let bygones be bygones?¡± I saw an almost imperceptibly quick upturn at the corners of his mouth before the captain looked behind him and nodded once. Two large Peacekeepers charged into my cell and grabbed me by the arms. My feet didn¡¯t even touch the floor as they dragged me into the hallway. Well, at least I figured out what made him smile. Violence, specifically against me. *** I found myself in a room that made my previous cell look luxurious. It was incredibly narrow, no more than two meters wide, and roughly twice as long. The only furniture was two backless stools on opposite sides of a plastic folding table with metal legs. They looked just like the kind used during bingo at my mother¡¯s church. One of the guards pushed me down onto one of the stools, before turning to leave me alone with the captain. No one had bothered to restrain me. In my present condition, I was probably considered no more dangerous than a particularly rambunctious toddler. ¡°Perhaps you are ready to have a conversation, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit said. The captains stood, with one hand resting on the table beside a small cylindrical machine. It was a solid tube of metal except for two black, triangular protrusions and a rectangular screen displaying symbols in an unknown language. ¡°If you wanted to talk you¡¯re always welcome to stop by,¡± I said. ¡°No reason to drag me into some interrogation room and threaten me with ¡­¡± I gestured at the device. ¡°Whatever the hell that thing is.¡± I crossed my arms and tried to stare down the captain, but the truth was that I was just putting on a show. I had lost any desire to rebel, and I knew my only way out of this situation was by cooperating. Hell if I¡¯d let that smug SOB know that, though. ¡°This is no time for quips, Mr. Finn. We are dealing with a very serious situation, one that goes far beyond any misgivings I have about your lack of candor.¡± The captain sat across from me before continuing. When sitting we were almost the same height, and he held eye contact with me for several seconds. ¡°In fact, I have not brought you here for an interrogation, despite what you may think.¡± ¡°And this is?¡± I said, pointing at the device held between us. ¡°This, Mr. Finn, is proof. Proof of a conspiracy that threatens to destroy not only your own world but countless others, as well. We will get to that in a moment, but first ¡ª¡± As Sebbit spoke he pulled a small envelope out of a pouch on his belt and placed it in front of him. It was faded yellow and the adhesive had been sealed and opened previously. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I said. Sebbit didn¡¯t answer, instead reaching out with a clawed hand and gently opening the envelope. He took out a picture, one of the small ones meant for a wallet. As he placed it in front of me I immediately recognized it. In fact, I had been there when it was taken. ¡°Do you know this person, Mr. Finn?¡± ¡°That¡¯s, why are you showing me this? There¡¯s no fucking way¡­¡± I stood up and began pacing the length of the room. Sebbit did nothing to stop me. He just remained sitting, not even turning his head as my pacing brought me behind him. I finally gave up and sat down once more, staring at the picture that still sat on the plastic, coffee-stained table. ¡°She has nothing to do with this. Do you understand me? I told you ¡­ you don¡¯t need torture, and you¡¯re still using threats against my friends?¡± My eyes were dry and red as they looked up at Sebbit, but his expression was unreadable. I picked up the picture, trying to suppress the memories as I looked at Liv¡¯s green eyes and flowing yellow hair. I couldn¡¯t remember why she was smiling in the picture, but it was a true one born from laughter, not one of the cheesy grins she plastered on for photos. If only I could go back to those days. ¡°Hell is not your friend, Mr. Finn.¡± Chapter 38: Fuel on the Fire ¡°The hell did you say?¡± ¡°I said, Mr. Finn, She is not your friend.¡± ¡°Oh, that¡¯s not what ¡­ look, Liv has been my friend since we were children. What could she have to do with any of this?¡± I turned the photo over and pushed it across the table. My finger lingered on the photograph for several seconds, unable to let it go. I¡¯d done so once before; I¡¯d let her go, and I¡¯d always regretted my decision. ¡°I know this is difficult, but we have reason to suspect her involvement.¡± ¡°That is bullshit. Liv has never even left South Carolina. How could she have anything to do with anything? She¡¯s a girl, not some space terrorist or eldritch cultist. I¡¯m not going to let you turn me against my friends.¡± ¡°Your loyalty is commendable, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit shook his head. ¡°My own daughter speaks highly of you ¡ª a courtesy that even I rarely receive.¡± He picked up the metal canister, looking at it before setting it at the center of the table. I had no idea what it was. It was about the size of my forearm and seemingly made of a single piece of seamless metal. If anything, the display and the odd protrusions made it look like a clich¨¦ sci-fi bomb from a Hollywood prop department. The captain pressed down on the three protrusions the previously grooveless metal split open down the center. A cold mist rose up from the canister obscuring whatever was inside. Sebbit remained silent as I waited for the mist to thin. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I saw the first outlines of the object and it ¡­ it twitched. A ball of black, leathery material riddled with veins and tumorous growths slowly revealed itself. Every few seconds it would pump, breathing in the mist and releasing a thick stream of a familiar energy. Is it alive? I thought. Whatever it was, it was creating eldritch energy. ¡°This object,¡± Sebbit said, ¡°was retrieved from one of the cultists that ambushed my soldiers. What is most concerning, to me, is that its existence on this planet predates the eldritch event that predicated Hegemonic intervention.¡± I simply sat there watching the beating heart. I could feel the thick streams of energy that poured out of it with each spasm. The energy was heavier; it was somehow both more virile and less chaotic than the energy I was used to working with. I had to force myself to stifle an instinctive urge to reach out and examine it, manipulate it. What could I do with such an energy? Some deep part of my mind responded, a great hunger that desired to make the energy part of myself. Ourselves. The energy quickly filled the room, and I felt as if I was swimming in muck that clung to me and threatened to pull me deeper into it like quicksand. The grey paint on the walls began to peel and warp as if time and entropy had been sped up. I instinctively reached out towards the energy but pulled back in disgust. It felt much more active and volatile than the reddish black energy I was used to working with. As it caressed my skin, trace amounts of the energy would seep into my pores, filling me with a sense of hatred for the living. Whatever this heart belonged to had died terribly, and I could still feel it calling out for vengeance. My arms and torso shook and sweat began to pour down my face. My face paled, and I could feel the contents of my stomach beginning to rebel. I struggled to push the energy out of my body when Sebbit snapped shut the canister with a deafening bang that reverberated between the walls of the narrow concrete room. The energy didn¡¯t immediately dissipate, instead lingering as a literal cloud of malaise. I reached up to touch my face and ran my thumb through a weeks¡¯ worth of scraggly beard, before placing my hand over my eyes. I couldn¡¯t get the emotions out of my head. I yelled, pushing up from my chair as I forced the last of the energy out of my body. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± ¡°Hmm ¡­¡± Sebbit vocalized. ¡°As I said, this object was taken from a cultist. A human that murdered several highly trained Peacekeepers. I should not have to tell you how difficult that should be for any citizen, let alone a tier four citizen armed with primitive weaponry.¡± ¡°And why are you showing it to me?¡± ¡°I needed to see your reaction,¡± said the computerized voice of Sebbit¡¯s translator. ¡°It was ¡­ informative ¡ª you clearly had a very strong reaction, and yet your claims of ignorance are honest. You¡¯ve either never seen a dungeon core before, or the memory has been ¡­ tampered with.¡± ¡°And what does this have to do with Liv,¡± I said. ¡°Why did you show me ¡­ that,¡± I pointed towards the photo that still sat on the table.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°Mr. Finn, please know that this gives me no pleasure. My only wish is to uphold the Accord and to protect every citizen of the Hegemony. I take my oaths very seriously, especially this one.¡± ¡°Please, just tell me what is going on ¡­¡± ¡°Very well, Mr. Finn. That photograph and this core ...¡± His hand rested on the silver canister, and he pulled it slightly towards himself. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the display for several seconds before he continued speaking. ¡°These items were recovered from a terrorist that was captured during an attack on my forward base. Nearly a dozen women under my command were slaughtered, many of them due to my order to take at least one of them alive. It does not lessen the loss, but their sacrifice was not in vain.¡± ¡°You let your soldiers die ¡­ for this?¡± ¡°And for the prisoner, yes. It was incredibly important that we understood the abilities and motivations of our attackers. Each displayed power I have heard rumors of but had never witnessed for myself ¡­ Powers very similar to your own, Mr. Finn.¡± ¡°My, what? Captured? Is she here ¡­ is she?¡± I couldn¡¯t continue. I just stared at the expressionless face of the alien captain. I tried to convey my question through eye contact alone. I tried to will him to tell me if she was still alive. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to say the words. Sebbit watched me as I gasped helplessly. He denied me even the simple mercy of telling me what had happened, and if she was still alive. He stood, looking down at me for a moment before turning silently towards the door. ¡°Sebbit, answer me, you son of a bitch. I¡¯ll do whatever you want, just tell me!¡± I banged on the table and the cheap metal legs bent, sending it across the floor where it smashed against the far wall. I turned and flung my stool, striking the door just as it closed. ¡°Sebbit, please ¡­¡± I exploded with rage, calling for him to come back ¡ª demanding that he answer me. Instead, he simply left me alone to stew in my own rage; a rage that was fueled by a thick cloud of anger and resentment. A palpable, literal cloud. The energy I had rejected was still lingering in the small room. I allowed my anger to overcome my disgust at the unpleasant feeling of the energy. I called to it and it responded. Each drop of energy fed my own anger in a self-reinforcing loop, more and more of the energy flowing into me as my anger peaked. I could feel it growing and contracting into a denser and denser sphere ¡ª as if building up to a critical mass before going critical. I felt as though I would explode. The small amount of energy I had absorbed previously fought with the new energy, trying to contain and convert it. Soon there would be more of the new energy, and it would overwhelm the defenders. Soon ¡­ Stop, Finn ¡­ The voice barely registered as I allowed the energy to continue to control me. I no longer had to direct it, it came willingly, picking up speed as it spiraled around me like a drain that led directly into my soul. My body shook and ached, but I continued. Finn, you must stop ¡­ Please. The voice was different this time. It was comforting and familiar ¡ª feminine. Please, calm down. "Liv?¡± I asked. ¡°How can you be ¡­¡± My rage gradually dwindled, and with it the rage-filled energy slowed, allowing the black-red energy of madness to exert control once more. The energy slowly stabilized and was absorbed, growing the tiny bit I had collected previously. That brief interruption had been enough to interrupt the cycle of hate and anger. The break was enough, barely. Without it, I might have been lost and unable to break free of the hatred and anger that had run wild in me. I still felt it, but I recognized rage as my own. I had kept it bottled for too long. ¡°You¡¯re there,¡± I whispered. ¡°I can feel you in my mind. I thought I was finally free of you, but you¡¯re just one more reminder. One more failure added to the pile.¡± I felt exhausted, no longer having the will or energy to be angry. I was drained, almost apathetic. Nothing mattered. All I could do was accept the truth. Liv was gone, maybe in ways I couldn¡¯t even comprehend. Could it be true? ¡°Come out, Fisher! Dark Gemini, Avatar of ¡­ Whatever you are, you know more than you are telling me. You wanted me on your side, well now you¡¯ve got me.¡± I waited, but the creature had gone silent once more. I had a vague sense of it in the back of my mind. It was weak, and struggling to remain awake. Our connection was beginning to be restored but was not yet strong enough for me to borrow its senses or pinpoint its location. Or was it the other one speaking with me? ¡°Help me find her, and I¡¯ll do whatever you want.¡± But the Fisher did not answer. Instead, my ravings were interrupted by two sets of impossibly strong arms that lifted me by the shoulders and dragged me into a narrow, dimly lit hallway. *** Sometime later, the door to my cell was opened and a green-skinned Peacekeeper deposited a thin metal tray on the floor before turning and leaving. She never said so much as a word, not that any of them had. My keepers were not the chatty type. The tray contained more of the red fruit and a dull, gray slice of bread. Beside it was a tin cup of water. I ignored it, as I had done the last half-dozen. The trays would come, and then be picked up an hour later ¡ª each time untouched. ¡°You need your strength,¡± said a faint voice. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°They want you for something.¡± The faint outline of a small bird was hidden in the shadows that filled the opposite corner. ¡°This waiting is nothing more than theatrics meant to break you, to make you beg them to do whatever it is that they want from us.¡± ¡°So, why have you finally decided to show up?¡± I said. ¡°Your timing is perfect, as usual. And what is it that you think they want?¡± ¡°I¡¯m nothing more than a little bird,¡± the creature said. ¡°What could I tell you?¡± ¡°If that were true, you¡¯d leave me alone. What the hell do you want?¡± I slumped down and let me head lean back against the cool wall. I found the cold touch relaxing, perhaps my last remaining pleasure. ¡°Did you come to torture me with meaningless riddles, or did you just stop by to say hi? Perhaps you want to tell me that one of my best friends is either dead or working with a cult of murderers?¡± My dry, brittle throat burned in agony with each syllable I spoke. ¡°No, Finn,¡± the creature said. ¡°While you¡¯ve been wallowing in your own misery, I¡¯ve been trapped in mine. Mind.¡± The creature laughed with a sickly wheeze. ¡°They¡¯ll be back, and when they do, we¡¯ll be ready.¡± ¡°Ready how?¡± I asked. ¡°You can¡¯t possibly think we could escape this place. Catayla alone would take us out, not to mention Sebbit and his army of giant lizards.¡± ¡°Escape?¡± I could feel the creature grin despite it being nothing more than the silhouette of a small bird that had no lips or teeth. ¡°No, my boy, they are going to let us go.¡± Chapter 39: Family Ties Four years ago ¡­ As I opened the door to my room, my senses were assaulted by perfume and the pleasant smell of ozone and freshly turned earth that always followed a thunderstorm. I could feel a gentle breeze caress my face and I heard the rhythmic thumping of an open shutter swaying in the wind. The curtains billowed and swelled like blue sails as gusts of wind blew through an open window. ¡°Shit, Liv,¡± I said. ¡°Can you close that window?¡± ¡°Oh ¡­ Sorry,¡± She reached out and pulled the two halves of the window closed. As the wooden frame clicked shut the howls of the wind died down to a quiet whimper. ¡°I should have texted first,¡± she said, plopping down on my dry formerly dry sheets, ¡°but I just needed to see you. I hope it¡¯s okay?¡± Her nose scrunched up as she pulled her lips into a tight smile. I gave up on trying to pretend I was angry. Her effortless cuteness was like a reset button for my nerves. It was like a superpower she¡¯d had since we were kids. ¡°Of course,¡± I said ¡°though you know you can use the front door? You¡¯re more welcome at my house than I am.¡± I stared at her for a few moments ¨C my eyes lingered on the pink dress that clung to the gentle curves of her hips. ¡°Uh, you¡¯re soaking wet. Just wait here, I¡¯ll get you a towel.¡± I gave her a smile as I walked towards the closed door of my bathroom. I opened it while making sure to keep the door angled so she couldn¡¯t see the mess inside. ¡°Here.¡± I tossed her a white, folded towel and closed the door with a gentle click. As she caught the towel she smiled, tracing the gold embroidery with her finger. I tried to hide my embarrassment, ignoring the fact that she had clearly seen my initials, AFF, sewn into the towel in flowery script. ¡°That was a gift from the parentals,¡± I said. ¡°Haven¡¯t even used it yet so it should be clean.¡± I rubbed the back of my head with one hand and looked down at my feet. When I looked back up at Liv she had stood back up and was looking out the window, watching the retreating storm clouds. She held the towel down at her side. It hung loosely, still unused and partly folded. ¡°So¡­ where¡¯s Troy?¡± I asked ¡°He¡¯s been avoiding me all week. You have been, too. I miss you guys.¡± ¡°Troy hasn¡¯t been avoiding you, Gus. He¡¯s just been working through some stuff, is all. Me too.¡± Her voice trailed off at the end, and for a moment I could detect sadness in her eyes. ¡°What kinda ¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m pregnant.¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I started. I just stood there like an idiot for a few moments. ¡°Why are you telling me this? I mean we¡¯re only juniors, for Cris¡­ Are you going to finish the school year? Does Troy know?¡± ¡°Yeah, I told him when I found out last week,¡± she said. ¡°He knows it¡¯s his and he asked me to marry him.¡± She turned and stared at me with unblinking eyes. I could see her determination from the way she protruded her jaw slightly, something she always did when trying to look serious. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯s? I mean, how far¡­ how many weeks?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not important, Gus. Just promise me you¡¯ll leave it alone, okay? I love you both ¡­ but it¡¯s his baby, okay?¡± ¡°Alright, Liv...¡± I regretted the words instantly. I screamed internally as I raged at myself to take them back. I didn¡¯t want it to be okay, but I refused to come between my two best friends. They''d been together since almost the beginning, as I quietly carried my torch. ¡°Just tell me one thing,¡± I said, trying to hide the quiver in my voice. She glanced up, and we locked eyes for a few moments. I burned the image of her face into my memory. Her blue eyes were framed by lines of running mascara and golden curls that threatened to consume her face at any moment. Her mouth was drawn tight and her red lips were slightly puckered. ¡°I love you, Liv,¡± I said. She started to say something, but I reached out and placed my hand on her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re my best friend. You both are.¡± I removed my hand from her shoulder and placed it over her clenched fist, drawing it up to my chest. I could feel her hand shaking, but her face kept the same calm look of determination.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I¡¯ll always be here for you and Troy. The baby too.¡± *** ¡°I was expecting your father.¡± The blue-scaled alien looked down at me and blinked. The slowness of the action is what made it so strange. Multiple translucent membranes rotated inward like the iris of a camera as her two main eyelids slowly drifted closed. As her eyes opened the thin membranes of her inner eyelids slowly unfolded. ¡°Captain Xern told you?¡± she asked. ¡°He¡¯s generally more ¡­ circumspect.¡± ¡°Not in so many words, but I figured it out. He seems proud, Catayla, I mean you did manage to set a trap for the notorious Augustus Finn. You¡¯re the first girl to succeed, though many have failed. I think that deserves a pat on the back.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve enjoyed your entirely inappropriate quips, Finn,¡± she said. ¡°My mother once told me the best way to judge a warrior was by how she responded to loss, and you¡¯ve lost as much as anyone. That¡¯s not why you wanted to talk though, is it?¡± ¡°Lost as much¡­¡± I shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how to take that, so I¡¯ll just call it a compliment.¡± ¡°Why are we here, Finn? I didn¡¯t get the feeling that you were too interested in social calls during our last conversation.¡± ¡°I want to see Troy Swanson.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s ¡­¡± ¡°You took a photo and some kind of device off a captured cultist,¡± I said. ¡°Your dearest dad made it seem like you had captured the woman in the picture, but I know that isn¡¯t true.¡± Catayla began to talk, but I raised a hand and asked her to wait. It had been a week since she had last come to see me, and despite my anger, I was enjoying the company and was in no rush to end it. It certainly beats talking to shadows and smoke. Or myself. ¡°How long has it been since you last came to see me?¡± ¡°Six days, Finn. Twelve since you were first taken into custody.¡± ¡°Not even two weeks ¡­¡± I had been experiencing two sets of sensory inputs since reestablishing my connection to the Fisher; combined with long stretches of time spent in meditation and the windowless cell, I had lost all concept of time¡¯s passing. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve enjoyed your hospitality. It''s been grand, though a book or two wouldn''t have hurt ... but, I also know the pillar of light is growing stronger, and that you¡¯ve fended off attacks at least three times while you¡¯ve been keeping me here to rot. I want to help.¡± Catayla¡¯s eyes narrowed and she bared her small, sharp teeth in an expression I had come to associate with a frown or grimace. The Peacekeepers, or Kree as their species was called, were hard to read at first, but once you learned to look for the subtle changes they were no more complicated than humans. I waited before continuing. I had played through this conversation in my mind many times, and I experienced a strange sense of d¨¦j¨¤ vu when I finally spoke the words aloud. Catayla seemed in no rush to continue the conversation either. She merely sat across from me, watching me with unreadable eyes and a cold empty expression. ¡°The attacks are growing worse, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°How?¡± she asked, her cool finally broken. ¡°Never mind, I am aware of your ¡®Dark Gemini¡¯, but that¡¯s impossible. You¡¯ve been Censored, and your class sealed.¡± ¡°Not all power is external, Catayla. This is all me, no assembly required. That¡¯s not why we are here, though. I can get to Liv, and I can stop her, or whoever is controlling her. At the very least I can get her to tell me what the fuck is going on.¡± ¡°How do you know we don¡¯t already have her?¡± Catayla asked. ¡°We¡¯ve captured several cultists over the past weeks.¡± ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°Liv is as vain and flawed as anyone, but do you really think she carries a photo of herself? On her phone, sure, but an old printed wallet photo? It¡¯s just not her style. Besides, I¡¯ve seen that photo before, and it was in Troy¡¯s wallet.¡± ¡°And you think he¡¯ll tell you where she is? He hasn¡¯t given our best interrogators anything, and you don¡¯t even want to imagine what they are capable of. Trust me when I say that you¡¯ve been treated well.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve just told me that he¡¯s alive and that you have him,¡± I sat back and crossed my arms. ¡°Not bad, for a human.¡± I smiled and steepled my fingers. I took several breaths and spoke slowly, trying to project an image of calmness and confidence. I could feel the Fisher grinning, the conversation was surprisingly close to how the creature had said it would go. ¡°I don¡¯t need him to tell me anything,¡± I said. ¡°I already know where she is. I just want to talk to my friend. I need to know if anything of him is left. And ¡­ I want to ask him why.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do,¡± she said as she began to stand. ¡°If you actually know where she is then we may have a deal. I can¡¯t guarantee my superiors won¡¯t decide to come down on you with everything they have, though. This may not end the way you are hoping.¡± I laughed. It made no sense, but the idea of a plan actually working the way I wanted it to just struck me as some kind of grand irony. No, this would be a cluster fuck of chaos and betrayal with a nice topping of death, but I had to roll the dice and hope I came out the other side. ¡°There is hardly much precedent of that.¡± My mirth slowly faded, and my voice took on a more serious tone. ¡°Catayla,¡± I said as she reached the door. ¡°Yes, Finn?¡± ¡°When this is all sorted, no matter what happens, I want you to know that I still consider you as a friend.¡± She didn¡¯t answer, instead giving me a passing glance as she slowly closed door. I could hear the echoes of her boots on the hard tile as they gradually faded into the distance. ¡°How was that?¡± I asked. ¡°Good, Finn,¡± said a bristly wheeze. ¡°Well done, indeed.¡± Chapter 40: Eye of the Storm The door to my cell slid open with the grinding clank of gears and the soft hiss of depressurizing pneumatics. I was startled, not by the opening door, but by the lack of energy that came with it. I had been accustomed to collecting small traces of eldritch energy whenever Catayla visited me and had even been able to cling to small traces when my food was delivered ¡ª and yet this time the air was fresh, pure, and bereft of the invigorating corruption. ¡°What is it this time?¡± I asked, my disappointment bleeding into my voice. Sebbit stood in the doorway, his normally unreadable face contorted into a snarl. His eyes were narrowed, and his inner eyelids had even partial contracted, creating a ring around his slit pupils. His entire body seemed to be vibrating with barely contained animosity. The alien captain held what looked like a tablet in his left hand; the other was by his side clenching a massive revolver with chambers that looked large enough to hold golf balls. Behind him stood two massively tall female peacekeepers in jet black armor. Each was carrying a rifle the size of a small tree. ¡°Take this,¡± Sebbit said while tossing me a small sphere. The ball was matte black and seemed to be made from interlocking hexagons. As I caught it, the orb began to unfold into long filaments that clung and wrapped around my hand before beginning to spread down my arm and up around my shoulder. ¡°What the hell is ¡­¡± My words were cut off as the material spread over my head and wormed around both shoulders and down my back. Within seconds, I was completely encased in the substance and it quickly hardened until I was unable to move. It was like being encased in solid stone, and just as heavy. ¡°Give it a moment, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit said. He was no longer using a translator and his English was stilted and his voice deep and gruff. I yelled profanities at the captain as the material covered my eyes turning everything to black. Soon, my panic ended, and I found myself crouched on all fours. The crushing weight had lessened, and my vision was beginning to clear as if a dark film was slowly dissolving from my eyes. I lifted my hands up to my face, but they stopped several centimeters in front of my eyes. I moved my fingers upwards and found a hard barrier around my head. Despite being seamless and feeling identical to the rest of the black material, the portion in front of my eyes was practically invisible. My hands and arms were covered by the same material ¡ª a dark graphene-like substance that was so black that it seemed to absorb any light that came in contact with it. It had covered my entire body like an armored skin. ¡°This ¡­¡± I began to stammer out a question, but before I could finish Sebbit turned on his heel and began to walk away ¡ª his two guards stepped to the side to create a hole. Just as he exited the door, he looked over his shoulder, ¡°Come with me, Mr. Finn. I believe that I may require your assistance.¡± ¡°Just like that? You can¡¯t just ...¡± Sebbit didn¡¯t wait, instead quickly charging down the narrow passageway with his guards in tow. I stood, staring at the open door not knowing what to do. I had been a prisoner for so long that the promise of freedom felt like a trick that could be pulled out from under me at any moment ¡­ or a mistake. Had the Fisher been right? Would they really let me go that easily? If Sebbit needed my help then the situation was probably already beyond fucked. I might as well follow and find exactly what form this particular dicking would take. I¡¯d like it even less if I just waited for it to find me. Never let it be said that Augustus Finn ran from trouble. Hell, at this point, running towards trouble was basically my MO. The alien captain had already disappeared by the time I entered the hallway, but one of his massive bodyguards was standing next to a narrow metal staircase that led up to an open hatch. I took her presence as an invitation and quickly sprinted down the hall. My limbs responded sluggishly as if I were trying to swim through molasses. I had done everything I could to stay in shape during my imprisonment, but no amount of training could replace the feeling of strength and exhilaration that came from system enhanced stats. Despite my clumsiness, I leaped up the stairs two at a time. At the top, I found a narrow vestibule where the paths split. The stairs continued upwards after a short bend, but directly in front of me was an open hatch that led outside. The sun ¡­ I had seen glimpses of it since re-establishing a partial link to the Fisher but his sight lacked a certain clarity of color. The bird tended to see everything in drab tones of grey and bright, bloody reds. I closed my eyes as I stepped out of the hatch, waiting for the comfortable heat to touch my face. I was disappointed, it may have been daytime, but it was impossible to be sure. Thick clouds of purple and red covered the sky, plunging the world into a perpetual night. Only a few stray beams of sunshine broke through the cover, like needles poking through a sheet. These filtered strands of light only served to draw a contrast against the dark and violent heavens.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. There were sound all around me, orders being shouted and boots marching across pavement, but I ignored it all. My eyes were locked on the turbulent sky. It felt a bit like staring into Hell. Was this finally it? As I finally snapped back to reality, I found that I was standing on a wide, concrete platform. Lines of Peacekeepers marched passed me in perfect lines and lockstep. Directly in front of me were Sebbit and a group of subordinates, standing beneath what looked like a perfectly preserved WWII fighter plane. This is the Yorktown, I realized. I¡¯d loved coming here as a child, even dreaming of one day becoming a Naval pilot like my grandfather, but the massive ship had long ago lost its power to awe me ¡ª simply a familiar fixture on the horizon. Now, I was horrified but what it meant that an invading force had commandeered a piece of American history. ¡°What the hell is going on,¡± I yelled over the roar of competing voices. A few faces turned to look at me, but quickly leaned back into their conversations ¡ª all but ignoring me. I¡¯d just have to get their attention. ¡°Sebbit ¡­¡± The captain looked up as I began charging towards him, and one of his subordinates stepped forward to block my path. I stopped short, however, as a realization hit me. I hadn¡¯t felt a drop of eldritch energy since I¡¯d exited my cell. Even now, as I stood beneath a sky covered in the corrupting energy, I couldn¡¯t detect even the smallest trace of it. I could faintly make out the familiar feel of the eldritch in the distance. The clouds themselves seemed to be made from a concentrated form of the energy, but it was too dense and far away for me to control. I brushed aside an armored hand that grabbed for me, as I spun around to take in my surroundings. What I had thought were clouds, were in fact a spinning vortex of pure eldritch energy, though a slow moving one. The Yorktown was in the middle of a vertical tunnel that was empty of the energy, like the eye of a storm. All around us, the vortex spun, slowly obliterating everything in its path ¡ª and it was slowly contracting. Within hours, it would pass over us and leave nothing but wreckage behind. The same hands I had brushed aside earlier grabbed me and dragged me forward, but I ignored it as I continued to stare at the heavens. ¡°You see it, don¡¯t you?¡± Sebbit asked. ¡°Good, if you hadn¡¯t I would have lost what slim faith I have that you can help us.¡± ¡°¡­ I.¡± I couldn¡¯t speak. I simply looked up at the moving hurricane of eldritch energy. What could create such a thing? Was this a normal weather pattern now? Or worse, was there something powerful enough to direct it? ¡°I see it,¡± I whispered, ¡°but I can¡¯t do anything against ¡­ this. That much energy is thousands of times larger than anything I¡¯ve ever dealt with. If I could survive long enough to go mad in the attempt, I would consider that a major victory.¡± Sebbit smiled. The grin was full of razor-sharp teeth and was objectively terrifying, but it was a smile nonetheless. ¡°If you could stop this, Mr. Finn, I believe our relationship would be reversed and It would be me at your mercy. No, I don¡¯t want you to fight this or even try to slow it down.¡± ¡°Then what do you want? I¡¯m not much good in a fight these days, and I have no idea what is going on.¡± ¡°You cannot control this energy, but you have a connection to it that allows you to see it and, more importantly, track it. None of the equipment or personnel under my command are your match in this area, Mr. Finn. It would be fair to say you are ¡­ a valuable asset at my disposal.¡± The way he emphasized the word ¡°disposal¡± set me on edge, but my shock hadn¡¯t worn off enough to feel fear or anger. I stood there for several seconds, my mouth acting as a fly trap rather than a method of communication. I might have taken longer to react, but a dark presence in the back of my mind urged me to focus. Our lives were in danger, and this might be our only shot at salvation. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°You tell me what to look for and I¡¯ll find it, but I¡¯m going to need my stats and class restored. Without them I have much less control over the energy, and I can only see it physically when it is concentrated like it is now. I need ¡ª¡± ¡°Very good.¡± The captain waved his hand and a tall Peacekeeper female with brown skin and long red hair walked forward. She was one of only a few of her species I had seen with long hair, and she hardly seemed to fit in with the Spartan military vibe most of the alien soldiers gave off. Rather than armor or the form-fitting jumpsuit that most Peacekeepers wore, she was wrapped in a long flowing robe covered in symbols stitched from silver thread and she had heavy chains wrapped around her waist and forearms. ¡°This,¡± said Sebbit. ¡°I remember,¡± I said. ¡°Archmage Telvius. It¡¯s good to see you again. The chain you gave me saved my life several times.¡± ¡°My pleasure as well, young errant. Perhaps you would be better off had you not so casually tossed aside my gift?¡± ¡°Yeah ¡­ well.¡± ¡°Enough,¡± barked Sebbit. ¡°As I was saying, this is Archmage Telvius Armeria, she is one of only seven Class Two citizens on this continent, and most likely the most powerful mage on this entire backwater world. She will give you your task. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I have a battle to coordinate. I wish you good luck, may you bring honor to her majesty, the Resplendent Wave.¡± Abruptly leaving conversations was becoming a pattern for Sebbit, and he didn¡¯t disappoint this time. I promised myself that as soon as I had a chance I¡¯d learn how to perform that sharp looking heel turn he always used. ¡°I wish our meeting were under better circumstances, young Finn.¡± The archmage smiled with a tight, closed-lipped mouth while giving a short bow. ¡°I¡¯m afraid the time for pleasantries is short. But first, call me Telvy, and this is Ren, Shora, and Melar. With you, that is our entire team.¡± My instincts as a southerner kicked in at her politeness, immediately putting me at ease. She seemed collected and elegant, and the three brutes in black armor that towered behind her gave her a sense of ¡­ gravitas. ¡°Uh¡­ right, Telvy. Call me Finn.¡± I reached out with my hand, but when she didn¡¯t take it I returned her bow. ¡°So, what¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°The plan is simple: search and destroy. I¡¯ll be doing most of the destroying.¡± Her smile was no longer closed mouth as she revealed two rows of teeth that twisted into a wide grin. She began to twirl a loose strand of red hair, and the chains wrapped around her began to hum. If I had to compare her body language to anything it would be a giddy teenage girl waiting for her prom date. It was downright terrifying. ¡°Ah, right,¡± I stuttered. ¡°Sebbit mentioned you would be able to restore my stats? And my class.¡± ¡°Of course, darling. Just give me your hand, this won¡¯t take but a moment.¡± Chapter 41: Chains that Bind Cold shivers ran down my limbs and my skin prickled, even as I felt like I was being boiled from within. I think I screamed, but the shrieks were consumed by a deep hum that reverberated through my skull and drowned out everything else. All awareness of anything but the pain fled as my vision descended into a fog of white and red. As the pain went on it didn¡¯t lessen, but I slowly began to regain clarity as a feeling of strength filled me. Energy poured through me with the intensity of a pump forcing hot water through cold veins, reinvigorating, and giving life to what I hadn¡¯t recognized as dead. ¡°What ¡­?¡± I blinked my eyes open, unable to comprehend the shapes around me. ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± said Telvy. ¡°You¡¯re ruining my concentration. Do you think mana surgery is easy? You wouldn¡¯t want me to mess it up my first time, would you?¡± She tisked and mumbled to herself, but I could only make out pieces of it ¡­ ¡°Could ruin my confidence for years.¡± ¡°First ti¡­¡± I gasped in pain, unable to finish the sentence. Instead, I found myself retching as I clutched at my stomach. ¡°Shhh,¡± she said, ¡°The pain will pass faster if you don¡¯t fight it. Here, drink this.¡± She rolled me over onto my back and I felt something bitter and acrid poured down my throat. It tasted vile, but I immediately began to feel better. The sky and the scaly face looking down at me were the first things to come into focus. When had I collapsed? My muscles felt twitchy and restless like they needed to be used or else they might burst. I needed to run, to let my muscles stretch, and yet I couldn¡¯t even figure out how to stand. My mind was still trying to determine where it was, let alone minor details like how to walk. ¡°What did you give me?¡± My lips felt numb and the words were hard to form. In fact, everything was becoming harder to focus on. Telvy¡¯s face seemed to glow as faint traces of color danced along the scales that lined her jawline. ¡°Just a concoction to speed things up,¡± she said. ¡°Give in, your body will know what to do.¡± ¡°My ¡­ what?¡± I tried to push myself up with my arms when a spasm ran through my entire body. I hardly made it a few inches off the deck before the pain drove back. My head was spinning, and focusing on what was happening became impossible as if each thought was drowned out by uncountable memories and ideas greedily competing with and consuming each other. The last thing I remember was a faint, pulsing aura. And then I saw black. *** Calibrating¡­. System Initializing. Basic Stats¡­ Adjusting¡­. Lines of text scrolled past my eyes. The words came fast, and I barely had time to pick out a few of them as they disappeared beneath my field of vision. I noticed the first signs that my skills were returning when the blue glow of mana became visible as swirling lines coiling around my fingertips. I could feel and see the mana around and within me. The blueish energy stood in sharp contrast to the deep black tinged with flickering red that represented the skeletal lines of eldritch energy that I had built like scaffolding within me. The air was almost empty of both types of energy, but Telvy was a beacon. The Peacekeeper mage was a raging inferno of blue and green flames that spun around her like a wild storm. It was a beautiful sight, but humbling. Every spell I had ever cast would not equal a tenth of the energy the woman held within her. More notifications began to appear, but I set them aside for a moment to open my status screen. As the translucent screen appeared before me, I let out a breath. It was back. I was back. Augustus Finn Class: Hierophant Level: 3/11 Stamina (r/ per second): 36/36 (0.30) Mana (r/ per minute): 94/94 (3.133) Might: 14 Agility: 9 Reaction: 12 Intellect: 38 Perception: 27 Focus: 22 Phys. Resist: 7 Mag. Resist: 6 Men. Resist: 5 My stats were exactly as I remembered them, and I could feel the vitality and strength running through my limbs.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. If anything, I felt stronger than before. Perhaps living without the system had done me some good. I was starting to think that in many ways the system was a crutch I needed to learn to walk without. It was certainly true that having it kicked out from under me had left me helpless. My body, my real muscles and flesh, hadn¡¯t gotten stronger as I fought and struggled over the previous weeks. It hadn¡¯t had to; something else was doing the work. The only thing that had grown stronger had been the benefits of the system. Only by being completely cut off from that crutch had I been able to grow. Despite that, any ¡®human¡¯ gains were capped and would come much more slowly than the stats granted by the system. If I wanted to survive I knew I would need any edge I could find ¡ª crutch or not. The momentary feelings of resentment towards the system quickly fled as I remember the sense of emptiness and longing that had accompanied its absence. I quieted my shaking hands by balling them into tight fists and turned my attention back to the notifications. My imprisonment represented many lost opportunities for growth, but there had been some benefits besides insights into my reliance on the system. I had even gained new skills ¡ª Physical Fitness and Meditation, proving that hours spent doing calisthenics and staring at empty walls had not been entirely wasted. Physical Fitness was almost self-explanatory and decreased my stamina consumption when performing athletics; useful and easily understood. Meditation was slightly more interesting, though I was hard-pressed to figure out the best way to utilize it. Meditation (2/10) ? - You have delved the mysteries of your own mind and learned to grasp at the secrets that reside within. While meditating you have learned to block outside distractions, thereby increasing the efficiency of your mental stats and increasing your rate of mana regeneration. Cannot be used in combat. I could see the potential for training my spells and skills that benefitted from focus, but I couldn¡¯t help but be disappointed. The ¡°Cannot be used in combat¡± immediately soured me to the skill. It felt as if the world would never give me a peaceful moment to train, and I had squandered what few opportunities I had been given. I had also gained two levels in Eldritch Mimicry, perhaps due to my small successes in gathering and shaping the energy without the visual aids granted to me by the system. I found that I had gained a deeper sense of how the energy moved and reacted. I had also learned that not all eldritch energy was the same; each seemed to have its own ¡®flavor¡¯ that was tied to some powerful emotion or desire. I suspected the variations were due to different sources. The black and red energy I was used to seeing in the world represented madness and sought corruption and chaos. It warped and changed everything it touched, but it did not destroy. This was different from the loathing and rage I had sensed from the heart, or dungeon core, that Sebbit had shown me. That energy existed only to destroy and inflict pain. It cried out for revenge and would drag down anything it came into contact with. I could sense that there was some deep secret hidden in that knowledge, but I couldn¡¯t, for the life of me, figure out what it was. I wasn¡¯t sure how long I had been laying on the deck getting lost in my own thoughts when I was brought back to reality by a deep, feminine voice. ¡°Finn, did I break you?¡± said Telvy. ¡°We¡¯ve got work to do, and I¡¯m going to need you ready to go.¡± ¡°Yeah, no problem. I¡¯m fine ¡­ just a little overwhelmed. Whatever you did seemed to work, though.¡± I sat up and pushed my knuckles together with a loud crack before pushing my chest forward and stretching my elbows behind me, creating an audible pop. ¡°Ahhh, that felt good. I¡¯m tired of being cramped up, I¡¯m ready to do some work. I feel like I could take on an army. What do you need me to do?¡± ¡°Good.¡± The tall archmage reached out with a single clawed finger and ran it along the edge of my jaw. As the finger stopped under my chin she tilted my head up until our eyes met. ¡°Look around, do you see the dome above us?¡± She tilted my eyes up further until I was looking straight up. ¡°Umm, yes. I see ¡ª¡± ¡°Good, that dome is being controlled and it must have something supplying it with energy at multiple points. A common penta-hybrid formation based on the theories of High Mage Malak is possible, but I¡¯d bet my teeth we¡¯re looking at a seventeen-point formation with an oscillating origination point.¡± ¡°I thought you spoke English,¡± I said. ¡°Just tell me what you need me to do.¡± ¡°Backwater mages,¡± she sighed as she shook her head. ¡°Just find the areas with the largest concentrations of eldritch energy and prioritize areas with unusual amounts of movement or fluctuation. Tell me if you see anything strange.¡± I looked out at the dome. It was so dense with energy that I had been able to see it in the physical spectrum even without my skills and class ¡ª now, it was ablaze with color and patterns. Snaking chains of symbols lit up the sky, with the black and red energy serving as a backdrop. The symbols seemed to be flowing around the dome in a spiral pattern that led upwards towards the apex of the barrier. As these symbols reached their end they would swirl in tightening circles before being consumed by an incredibly dense spot at the very top of the dome. As I turned around, I could see several other areas where the energy was concentrated almost as thickly. Each of these areas were evenly spaced from each other, and from the Yorktown. They seemed to be the origination point for the glowing chains of symbols. The energy in these areas seemed more volatile than the rest; constantly expanding and contracting and even changing in color and speed. ¡°There,¡± I shouted as I pointed straight up. ¡°All the energy is being fed there.¡± ¡°Can you see where the energy is being fed from?¡± ¡°Sure, umm ¡­ there are eight points. And I think another eight smaller points as well, but it¡¯s hard to tell. The closest is right there,¡± I pointed directly in front of me at a spot roughly half a mile away. ¡°Good, we strike immediately. Ladies, form up and prepare for evac.¡± The three looming Peacekeepers that had been flanking Telvy stood up taller and holstered their rifles behind them. They then each crossed their arms in front of their chests and waited while standing perfectly still. It had the grace and precision of a well-practiced routine. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about how you stand,¡± Telvy turned to look at me, ¡°just don¡¯t struggle. Got it?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t struggle against what ¡­¡± Before I could finish, Telvy was lifted into the air as the chains that were wrapped around her torso began to unravel and twirl beneath her like a tornado of clanking steel. Long red hair spun out behind her like a flag that was struggling against a heavy wind. I could sense mana wrapping around me as I began to feel lighter and my toes lifted up from the ground. Small pebbles floated up from cracks in the concrete deck below my feet, and the air filled with the haze of dust and debris. ¡°What¡¯s going on? I''m really not ¡ª¡± A chain shot out from the tornado of metal that surrounded Telvy. It spun around me, wrapping around my waist and chest. The three Peacekeepers in black armor were quickly bound in the same manner. ¡°Telvy,¡± I protested. ¡°You¡¯re not doing what I think ¡ª¡± The chain binding me to the mage tightened and my words were drowned out by the rush of wind. She cut through the sky like a falling meteor, twirling steel spinning out behind her like the severed bonds of a mad god. My stomach lurched and I tasted bile as Telvy sped up, dragging me with her as she dove straight towards the earth. Chapter 42: Fruits of the Earth I felt a moment of weightlessness as the chain towing me through the air went slack. Telvy was slowing as she fell closer to the ground, only pulling up at the last moment. I swear I could have reached out and brushed the grass, but the armored peacekeepers that were being dragged next to me somehow managed to look bored. How many times did you have to practice, I thought, before something as pantshittingly insane as this became normal? The chain tightened around my chest once more as Telvy picked up speed. We soared above treetops, just barely skirting the tallest branches. It was exhilarating ¡­ and insane, but I couldn¡¯t help but let out a whoop as we cleared the trees and began to descend once more. I felt Telvy¡¯s mana grip me, gently countering gravity as the mage set down in a narrow field surrounded by rubble and overgrowth. As my toes touched the ground, gravity immediately shifted, and I was sent tumbling to the ground. Suppressed laughter followed me, but when I looked back up the seven-foot pillars of black armor were casually looking away as if they hadn¡¯t noticed. I stood, taking in my surroundings as I shook off the feeling of vertigo. The five of us stood atop the crumbled remains of a building that barely was barely visible through the earth that had risen to consume it. In front of us stood a line of short, narrow trees being slowly strangled by winding creepers. The vines twisted and dug into scarred trunks, drawing forth green sap that they eagerly absorbed as a leech does blood. It was darker here, this close to the edge of the dome, but flashes of crimson light would briefly illuminate everything around us like the scorching blossoms of fireworks. To the north and south the growth of trees was much thicker and loomed above us like the still corpses of titans. The wind tugged at me, seeming to grow stronger with each rotation before gradually weakening and shifting direction. The twirling sediment filled the air, and combined with the strange landscape, gave me the feeling of stepping onto another world. In a way, my childhood dreams of exploration came true only miles from where I had grown up. This wasn¡¯t Charleston anymore. Beyond a line of dying trees, right at the edge of the dome, was a twisting vortex that seemed to be devouring the earth beneath it. To my other sense, however, it was a Tesla coil giving off blinding light and forking sparks of red and black lightning. ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to point out the exact area,¡± Telvy yelled above the din. I jumped in surprise as the chains that still bound my torso began to unwind and retract back to Telvy with the speed of a striking viper. I tried to hide my reaction, but I could read the amusement on her face. ¡°It¡¯s right there,¡± I pointed. ¡°You have the ability to manipulate mana in its raw form, correct?¡± ¡°Yeah, but there¡¯s not much to work with. What do you need me to do?¡± ¡°Here,¡± Telvy extended an arm and I felt a large amount of mana pour into the area. ¡°Just paint the area, I¡¯ll do the rest.¡± I extended my own mana to touch Telvy¡¯s energy, but immediately recoiled. Her mana was a fiery green that consumed my own, more reserved, energy upon contact. ¡°You really do need training,¡± the archmage sighed. ¡°Here, try now.¡± The mana she had bled into the air grew calmer, more like still mist than the fiery waves it had been before. It still felt ¡­ hot is the best way to describe it, but I found that I could manipulate it almost as easily as I could my own. I even gathered a bit of it to study later. I walked forward until I was just before the line of trees between me and my target. I shaped Telvy¡¯s mana into a disk and willed it to slowly move towards the area of explosive energy at the edge of the dome. Eldritch energy burst upwards from the area like a constant stream of lightning. Each of these sparks ended in golden symbols that linked together in long, complex chains vaguely reminiscent of mathematical formulas. I¡¯d always spaced out at any math that contained letters, and this was infinitely more complex than the freshman calculus I¡¯d barely passed ¡­ and yet I could sense a familiar pattern. It was as if I¡¯d seen it before. The feeling hung there for a moment, but I set it aside as the eldritch energy began to tear holes in the mana I was controlling. I focused, reshaping the disk as quickly as it was destroyed but it was a losing battle and the mana was dissipating after only a few seconds. I breathed heavily as sweat and shame covered my face. I looked up at Telvy to apologize, but she was already working.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. At some point, she had stood next to me with her arms stretched wide. The chains that had been wound around her forearms were uncoiled and dozens of steel tendrils began to strike at the dome. Each strike would tear out thick gouges of energy, but these wounds were filled more quickly than they could be inflicted. Just as I was beginning to warn her that it wasn¡¯t working, the archmage intensified her attack. The larger chain that was still wound around her torso began to slide free to join the others. Once the chain was unraveled it joined the others as they began to spin around in a circle, like the blades of a blender. Each rotation shaved thick layers away from the wall of energy. I watched, transfixed, trying to gain insight into how she used her mana to manipulate the chains. If I lived through this, it would be a valuable skill to emulate. A soft, voiceless groan sent a jolt of fear up my spine, interrupting my thoughts. I spun to look behind me and saw one of the black-clad Peacekeepers being hauled into the sky. At first I couldn¡¯t understand what was holding her, or why she was moving so strangely. Eventually, my eyes were drawn down towards her chest. A pillar of sharpened earth stretched from her torso down towards the ground. No, that was wrong. I yelled, running towards her as realization dawned. The jagged spike protruded from her back, but she still seemed to be alive. She kicked and struggled to pull or break the stone blade from her chest. One half of her face shield had been cracked and I could see panicked eyes looking down at me as I raced towards her. Her armor shimmered for a moment before flowing around the wound like a liquid, seeking to fill and surround the wound. As the armor slid away it extended up the spike spinning around it in an attempt to saw through the tough rock. The nearly nude form of the Peacekeeper hung limply, only her fingertips still twitching as the look of shock on her face slowly faded I froze, unable to comprehend what was happening. My attention was fixed on a thick stream of blood that dripped down the stone onto barren earth, and the coppery tang carried on the wind. ¡°Shora!¡± Telvy cried. She called off her assault on the dome and began to fly into the air dragging her chains behind her as if she were a vengeful goddess bound to the Earth. I saw only a flash of light before the stone pillar was vaporized, its remains falling upon the earth like snow. Telvy caught the falling soldier and held her in her arms as they gently glided back towards the earth. As the mage set the woman down she turned to look at the rest of us. Her eyes were fiery orbs in the same shade of green as her mana and her teeth were bared in the snarl of a wounded predator. ¡°They won¡¯t use that trick again,¡± she roared. ¡°The earth is mine to command.¡± As she spoke her face tightened, and her voice grew deeper as all signs of emotion drained from her. She lifted her arms as a pulse of mana shot into the ground. ¡°Find them,¡± she howled. The two remaining Peacekeepers immediately fled to the north. I looked toward the mage, unsure what to say. Instead, I just shook my head as I looked at the surprisingly young-looking woman in her arms. Her skin was a faint blue, and almost completely free of scales or raised edges. She was just a girl. ¡°I¡¯m no healer, but I have to try and save her.¡± The fire had faded from her Telvy¡¯s eyes as she looked up at me. ¡°Please, Finn, you have no reason to help me, but I can¡¯t let her die.¡± ¡°What do you expect me to do?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m no healer either, and your bodyguards could crush me like a fly, so I doubt I¡¯m much help to them. Besides, I¡¯m not even sure where the attack came from.¡± ¡°Each of my sisters is a capable tracker and fighter,¡± she shook her head as she spoke. ¡°What I need you to do is protect me as I work ¡­ and while my sisters kill. Build a space of empty energy around Shora and I. Fight off any attackers as they come. I need three ¡­ roughly four point two minutes.¡± ¡°One condition.¡± ¡°Speak, but quickly,¡± her words were a faint whisper that barely rose above the cacophony of the wind. ¡°When this is done, I¡¯m escaping. There is no fucking way I¡¯m going back. All I need you to do is not try to stop me when the time comes ¡­ and I need you to make sure that my friend Tiller gets home safely.¡± I held eye contact with her for a moment, but she quickly nodded her head in assent. ¡°Fine, now hold up your end.¡± The Peacekeeper mage surrounded herself in a thick haze of intensely bright mana. It glowed like the sun and gave off physical heat like standing next to an open oven. As she worked, I summoned the Fisher. I felt its mind join with mine, time to work already? Our connection had grown to the point that I didn¡¯t need to communicate my intentions. The creature surrounded Telvy with a thin, egg-shaped barrier made of eldritch energy. A small kingfisher was perched atop the egg, its eyes closed in concentration. I cast my eyes south, hopefully the two Peacekeepers could handle whatever was to the north. They¡¯d at least make enough noise that nothing could surprise me from that direction. Nearly two minutes elapsed without any problems, and I was just beginning to become optimistic that things might work out well for a change ... or at least well for me. I spared a glance at the pair inside the egg-shaped barrier but there was no change. A mighty boom followed by the incessant sounds of gunfire at full auto drew my attention to the north. It seemed like they had found whatever had drawn them in that direction. I just had to hope they could handle it. It took a force of will, but I broke away and turned my vigil back towards the south. Any monsters fleeing from the north would either be scraps or, if they had killed the Peacekeepers, much too powerful for me to deal with. I felt that the likely, and more dangerous, sneak attack would come from the opposite direction. I was wrong. The attack was not even close to being stealthy. The ground began to shake strongly enough that small pebbles and finely ground sand jumped dozens of inches into the air. At first, I thought it was an earthquake, but as my eyes focused further into the distance I realized the truth. Mighty trees toppled each other like dominos, each falling towards me as if a giant blade was cutting through the forest. I began to hear howls that shook my bones and a sense of primal fear rose up in my gut. Whatever was coming was not alone. The wind reversed direction, and for a moment the air was still. As the dust cleared, I saw a pair of horns and fiery red eyes just as they broke through the final line of trees. Chapter 43: Sky Meets Earth The sun was just beginning to set behind the hills and trees to the west, darkening the sky beneath the dome. The sparks of red and black energy became even more pronounced and the flickering light made everything seem otherworldly. The dome had contracted inward by several feet over the last few minutes and seemed to be growing thicker, even as the energy that supported it had grown wilder and less stable. A crack of thunder cut through the din of the wind, just as something louder and far more dangerous howled in the distance. I could feel the earth trembling beneath my feet as I watched hundreds of gargantuan, bovine-like creatures charge through the tree line to the south, leaving behind a trail of devastation. The percussion of their thunderous hooves vied and harmonized with the howling gale to create a symphony of discordant chaos. It was a music of opposites; the furious cords of a raging sky clashed with the unrelenting percussion of the quaking earth. I covered my visor with one hand as a cloud of dust obscured my vision. As the wind grew stronger, I was pelted with what felt like shotgun blasts of small pebbles and clumps of dirt. The alternating gusts were growing stronger as the dome drew closer. The wind shifted direction again, quieting just as the sun was fully obscured. As the quiet light faded into darkness, furious cries rose up to fills its absence. I shook in fear and anticipation for battle ¡ª a dark part of my mind calling out for blood. Was this hell? Perhaps I had died in that crash and none of this was real? Monsters and demons didn¡¯t stampede through Charleston. I second guessed myself, but I stood firm. I looked back at the still form of Telvy and her ¡­ no, Shora deserved a name. The injured woman looked almost peaceful as Telvy continued to cradle her against her chest. Perhaps this was Hell, but I didn¡¯t have to give in. I could fight, and perhaps find some solace in those who fought beside me. It remembered a fitting phrase, but I couldn¡¯t remember where I had heard it. Abandon all hope ye who enter here ¡­ I couldn¡¯t believe that. If I had to stand before those fiery gates I would not abandon hope. I would storm the dungeons of hell and take the Devil¡¯s head, or at least die trying. I didn¡¯t recognize my own thoughts, I realized as I shook my head. These weren¡¯t devils, just beasts. Large and terrible beasts. My eyes widened as I got my first clear view of what was charging towards me. They towered over the empty plains that separated us. Each was nearly as tall as a house and half as wide. The word that stuck in my mind was ¡­ behemoths. They charged at me above thunderous hooves. Long, twisting horns protruded from their heads in numerous spirals, no two beasts had the same number. Each protrusion ended in jagged tips and cruel sickle-like hooks. The behemoths¡¯ massive bodies were supported by four shaggy legs and covered in a layer of short, dark fur. Their heads were snarling masks of rage and folded flesh behind a Cheshire grin of large triangular teeth. The largest of the behemoths slowed as it threw its head back in a roar. The howl seemed almost mournful and was loud and clear enough for the challenge to rise above the pandemonium that shook both earth and sky. I focused on the creature to the point of ignoring the dozens of others that were beginning to overtake it. Its head was tucked between a matted mane of red hair and its single eye glowed bright orange with a dancing light as if a wildfire burned within it. The short fur on the creature''s back was purple but dark enough to be almost black. Unlike the hooves that most of its followers had, this beast¡¯s feet were clawed and left massive gouges in the earth behind it. It had a proud and regal air as if it were a paragon of its species. This creature, this king behemoth, continued to wail as the rest of the pack charged forward. They bent around and even leaped above their leader, its howl never wavering even as hooves and bodies pressed around and over it. Shit, they were moving faster than I realized. I couldn¡¯t just stand still and hope for the best. I didn¡¯t need to fight them all. I merely needed to delay them long enough for Telvy to finish or for her sisters to return. Either one of those possibilities would end the fight. Or so I hooped. I just had to find a way to annoy and distract the monsters enough that they ignored the archmage. I had no illusions that she would stop to aid me before her work was complete, but I was sure she would step in once she finished. Less than two minutes to go. I can do this, I thought. My spells weren¡¯t powerful enough and mana was thin. I had only one resource that might help, though I was hesitant to use it. I felt a growing connection to something I didn¡¯t understand, and the Fisher was far too happy to encourage me down this path. What choice did I have? The Eldritch energy was as thick as dirt this close to the border of the dome in contrast to the nearly complete lack I had felt closer to the Yorktown. The swirling area that was feeding energy to the dome was siphoning away the energy in large quantities, but this same attraction kept the area near the dome heavy with the crackling black and red energy. I used Eldritch Mimicry to hide Telvy and Shora, as well as the small kingfisher guarding over them, in the illusion of a granite boulder. The only weapon I¡¯d been provided for this mission was a small handle that I knew could extend into a full-length staff, practically useless against a stampede. Luckily, I had collected the rifle dropped by the injured Peacekeeper. I had some training in Peacekeeper weaponry, but I had never held a piece of tech this advanced. Talith had once demonstrated the alternate modes of fire on a much smaller version of the weapon, and she had briefly described some of the different configurations Peacekeeper rifles could take. I didn¡¯t know how to access any of them. I would just have to content myself with an oversized machine gun with near limitless ammo. I had no idea how the technology worked, but Talith had tried to explain by telling me that Peacekeeper rifles shaved nearly microscopic threads from a block of metal before propelling those ¡°bullets¡± at incredible speeds. This created not only impressive stopping power but was nearly recoilless and a single ¡°block¡± of ammo could contain tens of thousands of rounds. I ran away from the illusion that was hiding Telvy, firing at the beasts as I ran parallel to the herd. I didn¡¯t bother aiming, I was bound to hit something with that many targets. Besides, I just needed to piss them off a bit. At last, something I was good at. As I ran I also began to draw in eldritch energy, consolidating it around myself in tight bands. It frustrated me that now that I had my connection to the system restored I could no longer store the energy within my body or even reinforce the existing structures. I still had the thin latticework I had built from the small amounts of energy I had collected during my imprisonment, but I had been unable to add to it. Any energy that touched my skin was slowly converted or consumed by the system itself. Those existing threads had potential, but I had still only managed minor success in using them in any meaningful way.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The shaking grew more intense as the herd grew closer, so I dropped to one knee to steady my aim. I had yet to change the stampede¡¯s direction as if they were completely ignoring my potshots. The rifle was powerful, but so were the hides of the beasts. Each shot would draw blood, but the thick fur and skin of the creatures were strong enough that the wounds were mostly superficial annoyances. I was only able to bring down a single creature through luck and by concentrating all my fire on its head. Most of my shots missed, but enough hit that it began to slow before a single shot found its eye. It fell with an inaudible crash as it was buried in a sea of flesh and hooves. Still, the others ignored me. If I was going to draw the herd¡¯s attention I would need to act fast, as they had already cleared nearly half the distance. I needed more firepower ... or a better target. I smiled and turned my sights towards the behemoth king who was hiding somewhere in the middle of the heard. Its massive size made it easy to pick out, but there were too many bodies between us to get a clear shot. ¡°Shit,¡± I screamed in frustration. For a moment I considered abandoning Telvy. The dome was made of eldritch energy, so I could most likely break through it given enough time. The Peacekeepers would likely all die, but I wasn¡¯t exactly a fan of theirs at this point. I might have left, but I just couldn¡¯t ignore the memory of the injured woman Telvy was trying to save. They both needed me. They had trusted me. ¡°You fuckers better appreciate this!¡± I charged closer to the herd, quickly gaining ground as their stampede continued in my general direction. Fuck, Finn why are you doing this? I asked myself. Are they worth your life? I had originally believed that the Peacekeepers would be invaluable to the survival of New Charleston and its residents, but the interplanetary soldiers had shown a remarkable amount of bad faith. Like most soldiers, I could only trust them to follow orders and uphold the interests of their superiors. I didn¡¯t trust any of them ¡ª despite my fondness for a few of their number. The thing that brought me back from this line of thinking was Tiller. He was still at the Yorktown, and the only reason he had been there at all was because of me. Thinking back to the time I had spent with him, his sister, and Pastor Belk, I couldn¡¯t bring myself to abandon him. I couldn¡¯t leave. Instead, I continued to yell profanities as I ran towards a charging horde of devils. I would have to trust in luck, magic, and high tech alien armor to keep me alive through a blender of horns, hooves, and flesh. Easy peasy. I didn¡¯t have a plan, but I noticed that the herd reacted much like most earth animals did while running in a group. They were not in a blind panic and would still act to avoid obstacles. Much like horses avoiding a fallen rider, they had jumped over and parted around their king and the single member I had killed. Not a hoof had touched either. I could use that. I took control of all the eldritch energy I could handle. I shook with concentration as the energy almost proved to be too much. Some of the energy escaped my control in the form of a spiral of interlocked threads. The backlash raked uselessly across my armor but managed to gouge two thick lines from the armor over my right arm. I was flung to the ground but managed to recover into a tight roll. More importantly, I was able to keep control of most of the energy. Two football-field-sized lines of sharpened palisades grew from the earth, much like the smaller versions I had used on the bridge. I really hope this works. My legs revolted for a moment and I almost missed the timing, but I made it to the first row of spikes just before the herd. I positioned myself low to the ground with the spikes angled towards the stampede. Now I just had to wait for the leap of faith. I slammed my eyes shut in fear as the first behemoths reached the obstacle. My teeth shook from the force of the first landing and I could feel the massive forms raining down in front of me like meteors. As my eyes slowly opened I could see an ocean of flesh and fur stretching out before me, but the heard had split. A large group had moved to avoid the spikes and were beginning to circle around to join the others. I watched this second herd, looking for ¡­ Yes, there he is! I dismissed the palisades of crackling black and red energy. A few beasts that had been unlucky enough to get stuck on the spikes crashed into the ground. At least one was dead and several more cried out in pain. A drop in the bucket. The first half of the heard was still heading towards my illusionary boulder, while the half led by the king was quickly moving to join them. I acted by creating another row of spikes as far ahead of the herd as I could. With a bit of luck, they would alter course to avoid it. I created a much smaller row in front of the king¡¯s portion of the herd and positioned myself behind it to use as cover. I was moving incredibly quickly, but the first half of the herd had already reached the spikes by the time I had the king in my sights. I dropped to one knee and took aim at the creature¡¯s sole remaining eye. Curved horns that spiraled around the king behemoth¡¯s head deflected my bullets and I failed to find my mark. I did manage to draw blood on its face and neck prompting it to finally abandon its howling and turn its damaged visage towards me. As its eye met my own I felt fear so intense that I almost dropped my rifle, my steady firing pausing for a moment. Despite the overwhelming advantages the creatures held in size and numbers, for the first time I began to realize that I had bitten off more than I could chew. Images of ¡­ No, I¡¯ve felt this before. I won¡¯t be controlled that easily. Long interactions with the Fisher had trained me to notice subtle changes in my own thinking. This was a skill ¡ª a mental attack. I had felt similar emotions when using the Eye of Madness. Two could play at that game. A slit in my forehead appeared and slowly began to open revealing a glowing eye. As the effects of the skill reached the King, I felt the fear that was paralyzing me begin to recede. I immediately closed the eye, but it was too late. In that one fraction of a second, my mind was filled with the memory of my young being taken, and a deep primal fear for their safety gripped me. I saw cages and the dead. So many dead. Among them my own mate. Small things covered in skins not their own danced around my herd casting black magics. I had to get them back ¡­ would do anything. Even submit. I saw a cub, brown and gold with two blue, glowing eyes, a rare coloring dating back to the time of the first herds. I howled in terror as the flesh began to dissolve from the cub¡¯s flesh. I roared and pulled against the chains that bound me. One of the small things turned its acid towards me, blinding one of my eyes. Still, I struggled but the chains burned and grew tighter. Then the true nightmares came. I saw creatures made of soft, bulbous flesh and covered in mouthless teeth and mismatched appendages. They tore at flesh and invaded minds ¡ª demanding obedience and offering freedom for a price. The last thing I saw was a face. One of the small things. She had cast aside her coverings to reveal a body that was neither alive nor dead. One half of the small thing seemed a corpse and the other young and strong as if a line had been drawn down the center of it. Even its scent was strange. As my mind became my own again, that image stuck with me. I had recognized the face, but it was impossible. How could she be ¡­ I slammed closed the Eye of Madness, but it continued to burn like a red-hot coal in the middle of my forehead. The images burned into my memory were far more painful. I tried to forget them, to cast them aside as foreign but they had become a permanent part of me. I would forever mourn the death of children, cubs I had never met. I slowly opened my other, lesser eyes and looked up to find that every one of the behemoths had come to a stop ¡ª and they were all staring at me. I saw a look I recognized as sadness as the king regarded me. He knew I had seen, and his looked seemed to hold a silent question. Would you do any different? I felt sympathy for the creature, but I used that momentary confusion to my advantage. I took the row of spikes I had created and drew them into the air before launching them all towards the king. It would have been enough to darken the sky, had the sun not been hidden behind the hills and rolling clouds of fog to the west. The spears of black-red energy came down as thick as rain and pierced both flesh and earth. I began to flee to the east. As I ran I could hear the king charging behind me ¡ª barely harmed or slowed by my attack. A moment later the rest of the herd began to move, but they no longer moved in a single direction. Instead, they fled in every direction, an uncontrollable burst of chaos that that threatened my plans to protect Telvy and Shora. How could I direct the herd now? I used the rifle to fire blindly behind me at the gaining king behemoth, but if any of the shots landed then they failed to draw a reaction. I continued to create a row of spikes between myself and behemoth but it just threw itself into the murderous wall in a spiteful rage, without regard for self-preservation. Soon, the closest members of the herd recovered and began to join the king in his chase. He roared at the sky, breaking the momentary confusion of the other behemoths. Within moments, they were all charging directly towards me. It¡¯s always nice when a plan comes together, I thought. I needed to increase my speed, but I was out of options. The only possibility was one I had only experimented with on a small scale. I would need to directly control the latticework of energy that I had constructed throughout my body. It had the potential to amplify my strength and speed if used correctly. The most terrifying words in the English language echoed through my mind as I gathered all the energy in my legs into a tight coil. What could go wrong? Chapter 44: Kiting with Behemoths The eldritch energy within my body responded to my call easily, with none of the delay or feedback of emotion I normally experienced. Shaping it was almost as easy as thinking and once it held a form it stayed that way with no effort on my part. There was just so little of it. It grew through every part of my body like roots digging into the earth, but each branch was needle thin ¡ª flimsy and easily broken. If I had compressed it all into a single point it would have been no larger than an egg. Just that tiny bit had taken days of intense concentration. I threatened to destroy all those gains, and more, if I didn¡¯t pull this off perfectly. The bloodlust that had threatened to take control whenever I fought shielded me from most of the fear, but still I hesitated. Even through the Peacekeeper armor, I could feel hot breath against the back of my neck. I sped up as much as I could, but I wasn¡¯t sure how long I could maintain that pace. The earth shook louder with each step as the Behemoth King gained on me. With determination born out of desperation, I took control of each strand of the eldritch energy within my body and began to guide it into my left leg. It responded immediately, and each thread quickly began to unravel. I just wasn¡¯t sure if it would be quick enough. My breathing was already beginning to grow heavy and a flashing display warned me that my stamina was almost gone. My stomach tightened as I watched the numbers slowly depleting. At most, I had a minute. Less if I was forced to take any actions besides running. My Physical Fitness skill allowed me to stretch my stamina, but it would be next to useless in actual combat. I had begun to lay lines of spikes behind me, but they were smashed apart almost as quickly as they formed. The unending horde of tank-sized monsters no longer tried to avoid them. A few died or were crippled as the spikes impaled and tore at flesh, but there were always more to fill their place and they kept coming as if rage had completely overtaken their survival instinct. Each broken palisade tore at my concentration, as my mind struggled to maintain the broken shapes. The king led the pack, urging them onward with his roars without ever slowing his pursuit. At least he no longer led his pack towards Telvy and her sister. I just had to hold out long enough. Telvy had claimed to only need a few minutes but I¡¯d long since lost track of how much time was remaining. A dark part of me called out for me to face my pursuers. It whispered promises of victory ¡­ if I would only give in. The calls were seductive, but I couldn¡¯t trust them. The Fisher, and whatever had spawned him, was just as likely to laugh as the behemoths trampled me as it was to actually help. No, I had to do this alone. Creating the spikes while also drawing as much energy into my leg as possible took too much focus to try anything else with the energy, despite how thick it was this close to the edge of the dome. I had yet to touch my mana, however, and the system dictated spells were mostly point and shoot. They were much like macros, producing a complicated but predetermined output from a simple command. The system spells might not be as powerful or versatile as what I could already do with Eldritch Mimicry, but they were all I had. I aimed at the ground directly beneath me and used Tanglefoot bolstered by Wild Growth to create a wall of brambles in an attempt to slow my pursuer. Twisting vines covered in hooked thorns burst from the ground behind me. I heard an angry roar as the thunderous steps of the Behemoth King faltered. I sacrificed a tiny amount of speed by turning to look behind me. Bits of torn vine still covered in thorns clinked against my armor and I was forced to dive into a roll to avoid a boulder covered in dirt. The Behemoth King was already moving as if he¡¯d never been slowed. Vines were still growing upward around his legs and tightening around his torso. Lines of blood seeped from where black thorns had punctured his hide. Behind him, he dragged a large clump of dirt held together by roots. I tried again, this time not taking the time to look back. Again, the creature ripped through the barrier as if it were tissue paper. Its feet struck the earth in a drumming of heavy beats that never slowed or faltered. It would have been just as useful had I gift wrapped myself for the creature in the hope that it would give up and go away. At least I drew blood, I thought to myself as I prepared the spell for the third time. My mana was almost completely drained when the king tore through my final barrier. I heard him roar, perhaps in pain, but the steady beat of his clawed feet never slowed. The horde of smaller beasts had split again to flank me on each side. If I slowed or faltered they¡¯d quickly surround me. I came to a dead stop, pivoting to the left as my heel dug into the dirt. I transferred as much momentum as I could into immediately leaping into a sprint. The king left a long divot in the earth as he tried to turn but still overshot me as it swung around in a wide turn. It bought me time, but I doubted I¡¯d widened my lead by even a full second. At the same time, I created a line of spike behind me and to the left. The palisades appeared too quickly for the herd to turn and many impaled themselves before being stomped on by those immediately behind them. This created chaos behind me but the king smashed through everything, barely slowing. Just a little bit more. I had been running for less than ten seconds at this point, but I could already feel a familiar tingling at the nape of my neck that I had learned to associate with immediate danger. I¡¯d only had time to gather roughly half of my eldritch energy into my left leg, but it would have to be enough. God, this better work, I thought.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. I allowed what energy I could to seep into the muscles of my legs. By concentrating on the energy, I could ¡®see¡¯ the internal workings of my leg as if my flesh was as clear as glass and each cell were coated in a glowing dye. I slowly moved the energy where it needed to be. It immediately began to copy the shape and motion of each muscle as if it knew what I wanted. As my left foot came down upon the earth I could feel the muscles in my leg bunch and shorten. I could see every action in my mind¡¯s eye, in perfect detail. As my foot pushed against the ground the muscles in my thighs and calves pushed against it and I allowed the eldritch energy to follow in a short, experimental burst. I felt an eruption of pain in my hips and knee, though my ankle held up remarkably well. I looked down and saw the ground growing steadily further away. I was high enough that I could see over the wall of spikes to my left and make out the horde of clamoring beasts that had almost caught up to me again on the other side. I enjoyed a brief moment of weightlessness as I seemed to float above the ground. The feeling was soon fled, however, and I found myself violently plunging towards the grassy earth. I landed on both feet, creating two long lines leading to a small crater where I finally came to a stop. The jump had worked. I had gained a lead on the pursuing behemoths, but I had completely lost all momentum. The king was already at my back and swiping at me as I fell into a roll. I could almost feel it¡¯s yellowed claws brush against my back. ¡°Dammit!¡± I yelled in frustration. The next jump would probably do real damage to my leg and it had to carry me much further if I expected to outdistance my pursuers. I ran as fast as I could, giving a small thump of energy every time my left leg pushed against the earth. This increased my speed somewhat, but the sounds of pursuit grew ever closer. The king seemed to have the ability to spur his herd on, increasing their speed and anger the longer the chase lasted. Once I reached my top speed, I began to prepare my mind for a final leap. I delayed only long enough to examine the energy and muscles of my leg a final time as I ran through a mental ¡®trial¡¯ jump. I needed to get it just right and couldn¡¯t afford to rush it ¡ª even with thousands of pounds of flesh and horn close at my heels. As my right foot came down all of my attention shifted to the energy that was building in my left leg. One more step ¡­ Every one of the beasts turned at the same moment, each aiming directly for the conjured walls of spikes I had been maintaining as I ran. The eldritch construct exploded inward, causing both of the lines to weaken as a cascade of chain reactions ran through them. A jolt of pain ran up my spine and into my skull, and the backlash caused me to momentarily stumble. I didn¡¯t fall but I missed my timing and was unable to leap. The energy in my leg had compressed into a tight coil waiting to spring ¡ª thousands of pounds of kinetic energy with nowhere to go. As this was happening, an impaled behemoth that had broken through my wall fell to its stomach and slid directly in front of me. Rather than stop, I ran over it while planning to use its highest point as a jumping off point to begin my leap. Roars filled the air with enough force to rattle my bones and cause my ears to ring. I could feel their eagerness and rage, but I smiled in triumph. As I reached the highest point of the mound of flesh and fur my foot began to come down, the coiled energy frantic to be released. Before it could, I felt something heavy hit me from below followed by the sound of cracking bones. I was flying forward but up and down lost all reference as the world tumbled around me. I felt no pain, just a warm numbness that spread over my entire body. My vision was beginning to grow red and my thinking became hazy as if too much had gone wrong for me to comprehend it. I do vaguely remember thinking that I was done. I¡¯d only needed a moment more. My flight was brought short far quicker than seemed possible. I looked down in confusion and saw the tip of a large horn protruding from the flesh between my right shoulder and chest. Why can¡¯t I feel it? I felt like a bystander. That couldn¡¯t be my chest. I tried to fight, to pull free, but my strength had drained and my right arm refused to move. The Behemoth King began to shake its head furiously and I slid further down the horn. I could taste my own blood as I heard my bones cracking and the wet sounds of flesh tearing. Eventually, my screams faded away and I hung loosely, not tired just completely unable to move. I was shaken and flung side to side before the behemoth tore me loose and sent me tumbling across the ground with a single flick of its head. Blood pooled around me, and an army of beasts circled me like children forming around a schoolyard fight. I hung onto consciousness by giving myself a simple goal. One action that I would take before slipping into oblivion. My entire life I had held back my anger. Now, with the Fisher¡¯s influence constantly in the back of my mind, I fought every emotion. I was never sure what anger, hatred or even despair was my own, so I repressed it all. Not this time. Here, as my life bled out beneath me, a terrible rage grew in my heart. It was like a tiny spark was given fuel and had quickly morphed into a raging inferno. A primal need for vengeance tore at me and took control. It was almost comforting to know how things would end. I wasn¡¯t going out alone. I closed my eyes and focused on the eldritch energy that was still tightly coiled in my left leg, drawing in more until it felt like a reactor at critical mass. I could see it struggling to burst free, my dwindling will the only thing holding the explosive energy back. As my mind cleared, time seemed to begin to move more quickly. I could feel the inevitability as the King Behemoth slowly meandered over to me. It came to a stop when its face was directly above me, and it twisted its head down to poke me with a blood-stained horn. The world became a chorus of cheering roars and growls. The king pulled its horn away from me and lifted its head into a mighty roar that echoed between the fog topped hills. The cry was mighty enough that I could feel it in my bones. The other behemoths quieted, each bending its head down to touch the ground. This might have filled me with fear if it wasn¡¯t exactly what I had been waiting for. My eyes snapped upward, and a brief flash of a smile played itself across my lips. The creature was not even looking at me; its eyes were closed as its maw was raised upward towards the heavens. I would help it to get closer. I spent the last bit of stamina I had left to jump up to my feet. As I turned my body, I could feel my right arm hanging at my side. The position seemed off somehow, but I ignored it. All of my concentration was focused on my leg as it soared upwards towards the Behemoth King''s unguarded head. The kick was a normal one, but just before I made contact I released all the energy that had been building up inside the leg. A powerful impact pushed me backward, flattening the earth beneath me. I think I was on my back, but I could only see blood as it seeped into my eyes. I could feel it everywhere, warm and somehow sweet as it poured into my open mouth. I couldn¡¯t feel most of my body. My left arm seemed to be the only thing that could move, but when I reached upwards I felt something massive pinning my chest to the ground. It was warm, unmovable and covered in a surprisingly soft coat of fur. I really did take it out with me, I thought. Maybe I would have laughed, but my lungs refused to take in air and my vision was beginning to fade. My last thoughts were of Telvy and Shora. I hoped I¡¯d at least bought them enough time. Chapter Forty-five: A Pound of Flesh I expected to wake to the grey confines of a Peacekeeper prison. Instead, I found that I was still trapped under a sky filled with winding golden runes. Behind the runes, black clouds spun in a turbulent sky full of crackling flickers punctuated by booming thunder and the stabbing blades of crimson lightning. The wind had quieted into a cold but gentle breeze that caressed my face like silk and filled my nose with a scent reminiscent of freshly mowed grass and overturned earth. I focused on the calming scent before turning my mind towards making sense of the situation. I closed my eyes and focused on what had happened. My meditation was interrupted by a sharp pain that prevented me from taking deep breaths. My lungs burned, and my breathing was labored and uneven. I could feel my heart racing and sweat poured down my face despite the cool air and my own lack of exertion. I swallowed and let out a gasp of agony. My throat burned and felt as if it were raw from gargling with shards of broken glass. I tried to push myself up, but the entire right half of my body was numb and unresponsive. My left arm was weak, but I could move it. I sluggishly raised it above my face and stared at my own bruised knuckles for a seconds before letting the hand fall and come to rest on my brow. My fingertips were numb and felt like cool glass as the rested against my head. My arm slowly slid down my body to lay once more on the grass beside me, and I realized that nothing was covering me. My clothes, or at least my shirt, were gone. There was no translucent face mask, and the black armor no longer surrounded me. The armor was not the only thing missing. I remembered being surrounded by dirt after being forced into the ground by an overbearing pressure, yet I was somehow lying on flat earth with nothing pressing down on me. Someone had helped me reach this point, but no one seemed to be around. Had they just left me here to die? I struggled to lift myself and cried out, but my voice was weak and hoarse. My head swam in circles as my stomach threatened to empty itself onto the dirt. I only had the strength to grunt out a few short syllables, my words barely articulated and quickly swept away by the gentle susurrus of the calm spring breeze. ¡°Water, please¡­¡± I croaked. ¡°Wa¡­¡± No one answered my pleas. I struggled to push myself up with my left arm, but I lacked the strength to even roll over. I pushed up with my elbow and managed to lift my head and one shoulder for a moment. My strength was short-lived, and I quickly fell flat on my back once more. ¡°Do not worry, Finn,¡± said a voice that was my father¡¯s but also something more. ¡°You are never alone. Not from now till end. Universes still unborn shall not outlive our song.¡± ¡°Fisher,¡± the word was nearly soundless and half-formed, but words were hardly needed. ¡°Wa¡ª¡± even as I began to ask two cupped hands parted my lips and a trickle of water flowed over my tongue. It was spectacular, like the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. ¡°You¡¯re broken, Finn,¡± the Fisher said. ¡°You gave too much for naught; the Devil, his due has taken.¡± The creature paused for a moment while it fed me another mouthful of water. ¡°Flesh has been rent. And we, cast off like detritus, foul and abandoned.¡± I held the water in my mouth for a moment, letting it seep into a parched tongue and cracked lips. I closed my eyes and swallowed the water. I took in a few slow and shallow breaths and I began to feel stronger and more lucid with each exhale. It wasn¡¯t strength I was looking for, however, but courage. I hesitated for a moment, but I finally commanded the Fisher to confirm my suspicions. I knew, but I had to see it for myself. ¡°Show me,¡± I said. The creature did not share my hesitation and it quickly overwhelmed my senses with its own. The sensation was disorienting at first as conflicting images overlapped and overwhelmed my vision with hazy forms and blinding light. It was dizzying, but the feeling quickly passed. I was left with the image of myself, lying on tall grass that had been pressed down all around me to create a bed. My face was bloodied and bruised, and one eye was swollen to the point it seemed impossible that it was open. My exposed torso was covered in small lacerations and my entire body was a patchwork of overlapping bruises in various shades of yellow and purple. If that had been the extent of my injuries, I would have been shocked that I was able to move at all. But that wasn¡¯t the worst. A layer of black material, much like that which my armor had been made from, covered half my chest. It went from my sternum to where my right shoulder should have been ¨C and there it stopped.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Nothing extended beyond that empty socket. My arm was gone. The words couldn¡¯t form in my mind. I had expected to find my arm mangled and useless. Some Peacekeeper technology could have saved it, or magic could heal the damage. Didn¡¯t even mundane doctors reattach severed limbs all the time? It was gone. There was more, however. The shape of my body was... wrong. My chest wasn¡¯t symmetrical, parts of my side and right pectoral were now a crater. My right shoulder didn¡¯t extend far enough out, as if it just ended right below my collar bone. It was hard to see the full extent of the injuries, as the armor was surrounding them like an amorphous bandage. What I couldn¡¯t see, the missing pieces of myself, were enough for me to despair, but I fought against the realization. Surely some magic or some skill, anything¡­ something could reverse this. I couldn¡¯t live the rest of my life crippled. I knew what it was like to watch as strength and health quietly faded while sickness robbed a man of his dignity. I¡¯d seen a strong man, a hero and a father, reduced to a mess of quivering muscles unable to lift a spoon or wipe his own ass. I couldn¡¯t become that. In the pits of my despair, I laughed, and the Fisher joined me in its madness. Perhaps it was that or cry. The laughter quickly descended into anger and my lungs bellowed out screams of rage and threats of vengeance. And yet, vengeance against whom? I could have left Telvy to fend for herself, or at least found a strategy that was less dangerous. I could have had freedom. I had become too sure of my own abilities, too comfortable with self-destruction, and it had cost me. It had cost me everything. I had done it for my friends, to protect them. That was the excuse. The justification. Yet here I was, with no one to protect me. No one except¡­ ¡°You,¡± I said. ¡°Yes,¡± a kingfisher circled my head twice before landing on my chest. My vision swam as every nerve in my body lit up in pain. ¡°I see the will, your intentions clear, but words are still unspoken.¡± ¡°You,¡± the words came easier now. I pushed myself up a to sitting position with new found strength. My head felt like it was spinning from the quick motion, but I ignored it and spoke the words. ¡°You can become my arm. Isn¡¯t that what you¡¯ve been telling me this whole time?¡± ¡°We are one,¡± as it finished speaking the bird flew up and expanded into smoke. The haze landed in front of me and took on the rough shape of a man. I recognized it as my own silhouette. Two red eyes burned on its otherwise shapeless face. ¡°Then do it,¡± I said while meeting the creature¡¯s eyes. It seemed hungry, eager maybe, as if something it had long toiled for was finally presented at its feet. ¡°A hand lent to oneself, is no great sacrifice.¡± In my delirium, I laughed hysterically at the creature''s jest in short, choking bursts. My mirth was short lived. Pain flooded my mind as hands turned into sharp talons and began to pry open the armor on my chest. As the shell was peeled away the Fisher evaporated into tendrils of black liquid, like oil possessed and animated by a vengeful spirit. The tendrils forced themselves under the lifted corner of the black armor and I could feel them burrowing and squirming as they forced themselves beneath my skin. It was like millions of rime-soaked razors digging away at my flesh and carving out a cavity in my chest. It stopped for a moment before I felt it begin to expand. What was left of the black armor flew out like a projectile. I heard it slam into the ground to my right as a plume of dust and grass clippings shot into the air. Before the dust could settle, a bulge of tumorous flesh grew out from my shoulder and turned into a many-tailed flail of black branches tipped and marbled with lines of flickering red embers. I laughed once more, accepting the pain and the madness. As if sensing my acceptance, the branches of black oil wrapped around themselves like muscle fibers and spun until they were wound so tightly they appeared to be a single smooth tentacle of dark flesh. As the tentacle shortened, it spread and shaped itself into the form of an arm. The empty cavity in my chest began to expand and fill, as well. I was beginning to feel whole once more, but the feeling was not quite right. I looked down at my arm and watched as flesh folded away to reveal long, thin fingers. I willed them to move and they did so with flawless ease as if they had always been mine. The skin was jet black, but otherwise the arm resembled mine perfectly. There was even a small scar, a line of crimson on jet black, beneath my thumb. It was identical to the scar I had received as a child when I¡¯d been bitten by a neighbor¡¯s dog. I held the arm closer to my face and was amazed by the fidelity. It had fingerprints, creases on its knuckles and slight rises where I had once had veins on the back of my hand. Even the hairs on my forearm were perfect. Yet, I still couldn¡¯t place the feeling of something being off. As I made a fist the realization came to me. I could move it, and even feel what it did, but the arm wasn¡¯t quite mine. I could feel the barrier between where it ended, and I began, as if it were nothing more than a useful parasite. It was no more my own arm than a prosthetic limb would have been. It was incredibly useful, but ultimately interchangeable. Despite the triumph of regaining my arm so quickly I felt only sadness. Disappointment. I could feel the strength that coursed through my new limb, and yet it wasn¡¯t mine. I could only draw on it so much ¡ª and I knew that the Companion was still free to come and go as it pleased. What good was an arm that could literally grow wings and fly away? It had a kind of freedom that I lacked. That was what I wanted. Freedom. Power was only a means of gaining it. All the levels and strength in the universe wouldn¡¯t bring me peace if I was liked into an endless cycle of battle and sacrifice to gain more power. It was a pyramid with no top. That momentary clarity into my own motives was enlightening and I made a realization. I¡¯d heard similar words before, but never truly understood. Freedom was never given but had to be taken. I had an arm, I merely had to take it¡­ Throughout my body were thin wires, an intricate web of eldritch energy. This web filled my entire form, but each thread was thin and weak and so the entire structure was insubstantial. If I could drive those wires into the arm, I could fuse with it more completely ¡ª it would become part of a whole rather than a removable attachment. As I began my experiment, I expected a struggle from the Fisher, but it was unusually quiet. Perhaps it too was curious to see the results. Chapter Forty-six: Growth Small tendrils of energy stabbed into my new arm. They anchored it to me, creating a whole from the sum of its parts. As the capillaries of energy grew and wormed their way into the arm they began to feed. Since regaining access to the system, I had found it impossible to add to the small amount of eldritch energy I had gathered. The system would greedily consume every speck of the energy as soon as it touched me. The small amount I had been able to hold onto seemed immune to this absorption, as if by claiming it I had somehow made it impervious to the system¡¯s hunger. Now, however, the thin channels of dark energy swelled and fattened. They lengthened and multiplied at an exponential rate. It was too fast for me to process or control, and I could feel the arm beginning to weaken. The threads of energy seemed to have a will of their own as they slowly drained the energy in my new arm with insatiable abandon. Soon they grew too numerous for me to envision as a latticework of thin wires. Instead, I watched as the energy became a chain of spheres that surrounded and linked each cell in my body. I was unsure how much of it I was guiding, and how much I was the spectator. Some force seemed to be controlling the transformation, and yet I was aware of each change even before it happened. I easily understood and anticipated each step. It was as if I had witnessed this play out once before. I was still unsure of the benefits this transformation would give me, but I immediately gained a much greater awareness and control of my own body. If I concentrated, I could isolate and view individual cells. Injuries and flaws became obvious, as if surrounded by beaming lights. Other than the injuries to my chest and arm, I also had tears in almost every major muscle, and the ligaments in my right knee and ankle were nearly severed. The shin bone was barely holding together and seemed as if it could disintegrate into bone fragments at the lightest touch. It was riddled with fractures that branched and spiraled throughout the bone. As the energy infused each cell these injuries were not healed, mine was not a power of regeneration. The connections between cells became stronger, however, and a new force pulled bone and muscle back together. They were not mended, but they would function until they could heal naturally. It was like a glue holding me together, adding both strength and flexibility. From here on I would be much more durable, but I would still have to experience the pain of each injury as it happened. I could hold together broken bone, at least to a point, but not prevent the injury or heal the damage. It was a ruthless ability, but powerful. Rather than slow the transformation, I let it continue. I was not worried about the arm being weakened too much ¡ª I knew the Fisher had ways of replenishing its energy. Besides, I had a faint understanding that the process would end once equilibrium was established. I called the Fisher, but it didn¡¯t answer. Perhaps the process had suppressed it, or my Companion was involved in the transformation at a deeper level than I could see or understand. The benefits of the system seemed an afterthought, but I still had that source of power as well. Several warnings and messages had appeared after my battle with the King Behemoth, but I had ignored them until now. Rather than try to dig through each message, I dismissed them and looked at my stats and skills directly. The most obvious change was that I had leveled three times. Just how powerful had that behemoth been? I had expected to level, but not multiple times. Perhaps I had also gained experience from Telvy mopping up the rest of the herd. I assume she did, anyhow. Everything after the headless corpse of the King collapsing on me was a blur. I had no idea how to feel about the archmage. She had promised to protect Tiller and had pulled me out from under the crushing embrace of the behemoth. She had also left me to fend for myself behind enemy lines while riddled with grievous injuries. I just couldn¡¯t find the energy to become angry at her. Instead, my rage was focused elsewhere. I had never thought of anger as a limited resource, but I only had the will to hold onto so much. Being angry was exhausting, and I had so little energy left. I shook my head and turned my attention back to my stats. I had gained three points in both Focus and Perception due to my class and an additional six points to do with as I wished. My first instinct was to put them all into Intellect, because of the way it bolstered Might due to the feat Mind Over Body. I hemmed over the decision for a moment, but it turned out I didn''t need to worry. After putting only two points, for a total of forty, into Intellect the stat greyed, and I was unable to add more. It was enough to gain an additional point into Might, as well. Were there caps? Would there be a limit to how strong I could get, or were these barriers temporary? I remembered Sebbit saying that Telvy was one of only a handful of Tier Two citizens on the planet. Perhaps the different tiers had higher caps. That seemed likely but couldn¡¯t be the only benefit for such distinctions. I really needed to learn more about tiers and the system in general.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. If each stat was capped at forty I would need to rethink how I was allocating my stats. A more even distribution was probably called for. I considered that something else could behind the stat being locked, but I didn''t have time to worry about it then. Instead, I ended up putting three points each into Agility and Reaction. They were still my lowest stats, though Reaction was now tied with Might. Additional strength and durability would have been nice, but I felt abilities that might allow me to move faster and maybe avoid some damage were even more important ¡ª especially considering the improvements to strength and durability fusing with the Fisher had brought. I did give me some thought, however, as stacking Might with the powers of my eldritch companion would synergize well. No, I¡¯d already decided on an even build until Intellect unlocked. I¡¯d stay the course until something changed my mind. Too bad respecing wasn''t an option. After settling my stats, I checked on my skills. I had an eagerness and hope that my recent physical changes would grant me some new abilities. I was disappointed when I found no new skills, but the feeling was short lived due to the massive gains I had made in other areas. My class features had seen the most growth, especially Dark Gemini which was now flashing and displayed a satisfying (10/10). Eldritch Mimicry had leveled twice as well. The biggest surprise was that Chaotic Mutability had changed. That class feature still didn¡¯t have skill ranks, but it now had a flashing (+) next to it. I knew the display was not real and I didn¡¯t need to physically interact with it, but in my excitement, I still reached out to press the (+) with a finger on my left hand. Chaotic Mutability ? - Eldritch energy swims through your every cell, leaving them pliable and easily mutable. After slaying the unique beast Belshax, King of the Planes Walkers, your chaotic mutability has taken on new traits and you have gained a feat. Monarch¡¯s Raiment ? - You are as terrible as you are powerful. All who experience your presence will feel a subconscious desire to defer to your decisions. Your enemies will fear your power and your allies will respect your terrible might. This is only effective on those with Mental Resistances that are significantly lower than your own. The ability could be toggled on and off and drained a small amount of mana when it was being used. I wasn¡¯t sure how immediately useful it was, but I liked the sound of it. If I could overwhelm others without the need for combat, I wouldn¡¯t complain. Didn¡¯t some famous tactician claim that that was the best kind of victory? Besides, King Finn had a nice ring to it. An echo in the back of my mind called out another name, but I ignored it and continued to look at my skills. Tanglefoot and Wild Growth had both leveled twice, and Pain Tolerance, Physical Fitness, and Combat Proficiency had each gained a single level. After adding the few Feat Points I had left over from previous gains, this brought me to twenty-two. This was a sizable number but not quite enough to purchase any of the feats that looked worthwhile. I especially wanted to invest in either Illusionist or Circle Mage, but I knew that doing so was likely to increase my Intellect stat. Most mage related feats had done so at regular intervals, even if I didn¡¯t have enough to purchase the feat outright. I feared losing points if forty truly was my current cap. Besides, I still had a battle to fight and three skill points would come easily. I could wait to decide. The obvious course of action was to find Telvy by tracking the points around the dome with the highest levels of eldritch energy. If she was assaulting one of them the disturbance would probably be obvious to my increased sensitivity and control over anything powered by eldritch. Her assault had most likely been significantly slowed without me. That was the smart plan, the careful plan. Help her and expect her to live up to her side of the bargain. I liked the mage, even trusted her somewhat. I couldn¡¯t put my faith in her, however. I would have to take the freedom I desired. My own, Tiller¡¯s, and even Troy¡¯s if he really was the cultist the Peacekeepers had captured. I had questions for my old friend. I began to move but remembered one more thing I had meant to check. Dark Gemini was my first skill to reach the maximum level and had been flashing. Perhaps it would undergo some form of transformation or grant a new ability, as Chaotic Mutability had? I selected the class feature and as its description opened the skill began to transform. After the words were finished rearranging, I was presented with a new class skill. Shadow Doppelganger ? (0/5)- Your connection with your Dark Gemini has strengthened to the point that there is no longer a divide between the two. This is no loss, but a boon. You will continue to be able to draw on two pools of mana, and your mind is capable of splitting, which allows you to focus on multiple tasks. You still remember, deep in your soul, what it was like to be more than one and you can use this knowledge to create Shadow Doppelgangers. As the skill level increases so too do the number and strength of the doppelgangers you create. I wasn¡¯t sure if the Fisher was still capable of leaving, as its body was now my arm and deeply anchored to the rest of my body. I had tied it to myself completely and separating it would require tearing apart my very being. This skill solved the immediate problem. I would still have a scout to act as my eyes and ears. I experimented with the skill and was able to create a perfect replica of myself, though it was formed from smoky black mist, like living shadow. It was completely unable to take action on its own, and I had to direct each motion. Once I was able to summon the Fisher again, this limitation would be mitigated almost completely. Unless he was gone for good? I dismissed the doppelganger and was met with a satisfying notification that I had gained a skill rank. ¡°Good,¡± I said to no one. The skill would be the perfect diversion, but I still had one more stop before returning to the Yorktown. I knew what was supplying energy to the dome. I had seen into the barrier of mist and lightning. As Telvy had assaulted the dome with chain and spell, I had witnessed a familiar object. It had called out to me. I now merely had to reach out and take it. Chapter Forty-seven: Volatile Responses It didn¡¯t take me long to find another of the areas powering the dome. The ribbons of golden runes were easily visible to my senses, and each generator produced sparks of red lightning that lit up the sky like a bonfire. I might not be as powerful as Telvy, or as smart as Sebbit or Tiller ¡ª but I had a deeper connection to the eldritch than any of them. I was even able to sense the remnants of the spots Telvy had destroyed, and where she was now. The archmage was as easy to track as paw prints on wet sand. She had moved north and was circling counterclockwise back towards the river. She had already destroyed three generators and was attacking a fourth. Her attacks created fluctuations that spread out from where she was attacking like ripples in a pond. She lacked finesse, but the brute force method seemed to be working for her. I purposefully chose to move in the opposite direction. I needed as much space between myself and that chain wielding madwoman as possible. My path would also keep me closer to the Yorktown. I believed Telvy to be strong enough to single-handedly hinder my plan to distract and escape from the Peacekeepers. Before I had to worry about that, I still needed to get past the first step of my plan. I let out a breath before taking a step into the dome. The dome was solid, but I was able to push through with only minimal resistance. It was like submerging myself in a pool of liquid lightning. The snapping clicks of static drowned out the howls of the wind and a chilling tingle ran up my spine. As the tingling sensation grew, a soft pressure began to fight against my push inwards. Red sparks crackled and clung to me like the coils of a fiery serpent. The pressure gradually became stronger as I pressed forward. The feeling was like trying to press together opposite sides of a magnet, if that magnet were fighting its way through a hurricane and had really pissed of Zeus. My pace was slowed, but only slightly. I pushed further into the wall of energy and before long found myself completely cut off from the outside world. I could see only darkness and concussive flashes that were preceded by twisted lines of crimson lightning that held briefly upon the sky like a skeletal hand. No other light could break through the thick fog that billowed up from beneath my feet. Hiding within the fog were eyes. I could feel them on me, watching and darting around me. The wind carried barely heard murmurs, whispers just low enough that I was unsure if they were real or imagined. Whenever I turned to confront these phantasms, I would find nothing but an empty red haze. My feet became heavier with each step. My mind began to race with half-formed paranoia. As I continued forward I could feel a pressure beginning to form in the back of my head. It was like the precursor of a headache that was quickly gaining in intensity. A feeling of vertigo caused me to stumble and I landed on one knee. As I pushed myself up a face appeared before me. The quickness with which it arrived startled me, and I yelled out. It was a disembodied and gruesome visage, a shifting mask of translucent smoke. It was not alone. A wall of ghostly figures had sprung up unseen. If I tried to focus on one for too long it would disappear into the constantly moving horde. Their forms were hazy and inconsistent, each was constantly shifting both shape and location. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing for a moment. I could sense the attack on my mind. It was much like the fear caused by the Eye of Madness, but different at the same time. This feeling was less primal, and lacked the feeling of revealed truth. It was an insubstantial fear, but nonetheless, one that was as insidious as it was infectious. This was only my second interaction with a dungeon core, but I was beginning to form an understanding of them. Each contained some deep emotion that colored and shaped the energy it produced. Perhaps this was not only true for the cores, but eldritch energy in general. I kept my eyes closed and launched myself forward. By blocking off my more mundane senses I could see the phantoms for what they were, constructs meant to torment me. They were pale echoes of that which should long ago have faded into death; no more real than my own shadowy illusions. I felt the resistance increase as I broke through the ring of specters. This only caused me to increase my speed. I was battered back by wind and an invisible power, but I refused to be slowed. Each step forward was an agonizing ordeal, like molten lead had been poured into my limbs. I had reached the limit of my pain tolerance, and fear made me doubt my actions. I could turn around and save myself. Was this really that important? The voices whispered, but I ignored them and carried myself forward through sheer spite. The pain and pressure nearly broke me both mentally and physically. But then it was gone as if I had imagined the whole thing. I opened my eyes and found myself floating in darkness. Around me was a near perfect void, but I could still make out the fog and electricity just outside the small bubble of nothingness. I breathed inward but my chest tightened and cramped. My heart began to beat erratically, and my hands grew cold and clammy. I clutched at my chest and noticed a trail of vapor rising from my fingertips. I exhaled, relieving some of the pressure, but I soon felt a bubbling sensation on my tongue and eyes.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. My vision blurred, and I began to feel light headed. I pushed down the desire to run as every nerve in my body cried out for relief. Instead, I ran forward. My fear and regret rose with each step, but a surge of vindication rose up within me when an object came into view. The pedestal was small, and half hidden in shadow. It was no higher than my waist and had a wide circular platform at each end. It was like a small table; its top was plated in copper and curved inward like a bowl. The column depicted carvings of human sacrifice and dismemberment being watched over by a great eye wreathed in flame. The eye looked familiar, but so too did the pillar. I had seen it before. The carvings had changed as if come alive, but the pillar was the same. The last time I had seen it was crammed into the back of a moving van right before my two best friends told me they were leaving. Only hours before the end of the world. Is this real? No. There had to be some other explanation, a trick of memory and perception. Placed atop the pillar was a small, faintly glowing stone. It was perfectly centered atop the dais and had been partially wrapped in purple velvet lined with gold stitching. Splintered cracks of fiery red crisscrossed the stone as if it were coal freshly pulled from the fire. A heavy stream of eldritch energy poured out of the stone and into the sky like thick, black smoke. I tried to speak in my excitement, but my lungs were empty. I was unable to form the words. The stone was a smooth sphere rather than a heart, and the color was different than what I had been shown, but this was clearly a dungeon core. One much more powerful than what Sebbit used during his show and tell. With such a stone I could have a near infinite amount of eldritch energy to shape and command as I wished. Its uses were limitless. It could power spells, formations, and could probably be used to create dungeons ¡ª hence the name. I had a different plan in mind for it. One that should cause Sebbit and his Peacekeepers to take notice. Anything that released this much energy would only have one reaction if that energy were no longer able to vent. As the energy built up, so too would the pressure it created. The result would no doubt be powerful, but I had no idea how long it would need to be contained before becoming critical. I reached out and took the stone with my right hand and folded the purple cloth around it. As my fingers brushed the surface of the sphere, small arcs of lightning struck my hand, causing the hair on my arm to stand on end. I was surprised that the black colored arm could be affected in such a way. Many fantastical things had crossed my path recently, and yet static electricity affecting artificial hair follicles is what took me aback. The arm was a construct of pure energy, and yet it seemed to follow all the rules of flesh and blood. It even tingled slightly at the touch of electricity. I just couldn¡¯t understand why it would do so ¡ª it was no more flesh and blood than any other construct I had created. Perhaps it was as simple as feeling what I expected it to, much like how amputees could still feel phantom limbs. Regardless, I had the core. I turned and walked out of the dome of darkness and swirling energy. With the core in hand, I encountered none of the obstacles that had slowed me on my way in. Finally, my foot came down on grass and the outside world became visible once more. I could see amber fields flanked by hills and tall trees beneath a dim and reddening sky. The air was still heavy with fog, but it clung low to the ground, swelling and falling with the turns and hills of the earth. I shaped a fold of eldritch energy in my arm and placed the core within it. I could feel a slight tingle as the arm began to absorb as much energy as it could hold. It didn¡¯t feel any stronger, but it would be more durable, and I would have an extra store of energy to call on for a rainy day. I began to leave but turned back when I heard a sound that was halfway between cracking glass and the gentle song of wind chimes. A single note reverberated for a moment, clinging to life briefly before fading into silence. The wall of the dome was now a smooth plane, no longer was the surface of the dome dancing with crimson sparks. The golden runes still spiraled upwards but were beginning to slow and fade. The structure supporting the entire dome was beginning to weaken. The dome had stopped spinning and was no longer slowly contracting. It was still an effective barrier but no longer threatened to crush everything that was contained within. I mentally cursed. I had known this would happen, but I was hoping to be able to get at least one more core before it did. Telvy worked much slower than I did, but she would destroy her core soon and the entire dome would collapse. Once that happened she would rush back to join Sebbit at the Yorktown. I had to get there first. I began to run back towards Patriot¡¯s Point, where the old aircraft carrier was moored. I moved forward with explosive speed, each step flinging clumps of dirt and grass behind me. My stride would send me forward several meters with each step, and I felt as though I were floating above the ground. My path was a straight line, so I quickly reached the outskirts of the pier. I leaped above a short concrete barrier and plowed through a chain-link fence as if it were cobweb. Gunfire and bestial roars rang out to the south. When Sebbit had freed me, he had claimed to be going to personally oversee the battle, and it was unlikely that he would leave many guards at the Yorktown. To him, this great piece of American history was nothing more than a temporary base to be discarded. Hopefully, my errand wouldn¡¯t take long. I would have to join the battle soon myself, but it was important to make a proper entrance. Finding a single prisoner on an aircraft carrier seems like a difficult prospect, especially under time constraints. I had the advantage, however, of knowing how the Peacekeepers kept their prisoners. I was especially familiar with how they kept those they considered corrupted by the eldritch. The energy was light here, only the smallest wisp remained, but it once again flowed freely through the passages and bulkheads of the old ship ¡ª further proof that Telvy¡¯s task would soon be finished. I identified several spots that were completely sealed off from the eldritch energy. They stood out like beacons to my sight. They may as well have been black holes floating in a sea of white. It was time to go see an old friend. Chapter Forty-eight: Overt Operations My search was over almost before it began. Even aircraft carriers are surprisingly small when you ignore minor details like ¡®stairs¡¯ or ¡®walls.¡¯ I instead choose the shortest distance between two points ¡ª a straight line. Obstacles like the concrete barriers and a chain link fence hadn¡¯t slowed me down on the way in, and I was past the rain-slickened pier in a half dozen bounding steps. Several turrets, certainly new additions, had caught my eye, but they ignored my infiltration. It was possible that they didn¡¯t see me as a threat, or that I was designated as an ally. I didn¡¯t buy that for a second. Sebbit would murder me given half an excuse. Most likely the dome was interfering with the technology. I knew firsthand that the Peacekeeper communications disks were not always reliable when exposed to heavy levels of eldritch energy. I had run past a dozen turrets and two abandoned watchtowers before reaching the ramp leading up into the labyrinthine aircraft carrier. Rather than search for a way through the confusing corridors of the massive ship, I activated mana shield and charged through walls like the Juggernaut. I had three targets, and immediately aimed for the closest. I crashed through several thin bulkheads before I found myself face to face with two peacekeeper guards. They were standing on either side of a closed hatch, behind which was one the areas that had been sealed off from my sight. My chances were one in three, and yet I was still amazed to find what I was looking for on the first attempt. I couldn¡¯t be so lucky. Unless they had more than one prisoner? The guards were even more surprised than I was. The one on the right stumbled back and smacked her head on the wall behind her. The other soldier was more alert but failed to use appropriate close-range tactics. She was already holding her rifle in a low-ready position, and her first instinct was to raise the gun towards me. The barrel never managed to raise more than a single centimeter. I lunged forward, pushing Gun Girl¡¯s barrel down with the palm of my right hand. I spun and rammed my left elbow into the sternum of her clumsier partner. At the same moment that my elbow landed in the middle of Clumsy¡¯s chest, I reached up with my left hand and grabbed behind her shoulder. I pulled forward, dropping my shoulder, and tightening my core muscles as I did so. The clumsy guard was much taller, and probably stronger, than I was, but the element of surprise and my lower center of gravity proved to be enough to overcome her advantage. Clumsy flew over my shoulder and collided with the wall on the other side of the narrow passageway. A new hole had appeared in the bulkhead, right next to the one I had made during my surprise entrance. I didn¡¯t have time to see where Clumsy had fallen. Gun Girl had placed both hands on the barrel of her rifle and was trying to pull away. My new arm proved to be stronger in that competition, but her greater weight was enough to pull me toward her. She focused on controlling her weapon rather than striking or grappling with me. This was despite having a collapsible baton on her belt and being at least a foot taller than I was. I hoped she hadn¡¯t been trained by Talith. If so, the old lizard was bound to skin and mount her on the wall as a warning to others. This only solidified my original assessment of Gun Girl¡¯s skills. She was probably well trained but had developed bad habits. Her stats and skills levels were no doubt stellar, probably better than my own, but I doubt she¡¯d ever faced a truly life or death situation. She had what Troy would have called, ¡°gym muscles.¡± This realization probably saved her a lot of pain. I could have kicked out her kneecaps or nailed her limbs to the deck with spikes of eldritch energy; instead, I conjured a chain and used one end of it to bind her legs. I held the other side of the chain with my left hand, while the fingers of my right hand tightly grasped the barrel of Gun Girl¡¯s rifle. I flung my left hand backward with as much force as I could muster. The guard was at least twice my weight when she was fully armored, but she was still unbalanced in the fraction of a second after she had tried to wrest her gun away. Once her feet were pulled out from under her, it was all downhill. She crashed to the ground with a crunching thud that echoed down the narrow corridor. As her back struck the floor she let out a loud gasp, and began sucking in deep, frantic breaths. She had abandoned the grip on her rifle and held both hands to her throat. I looked down at her and realized that I was enjoying the violence way too much. Tears had filled her eyes, while I was standing over her with a terrifying grin on my face. My smile faded, and I focused on keeping a neutral expression. It was much more difficult than I was comfortable with. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± I placed a foot on her chest.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I tried not to use too much weight, as I had no idea what injuries she had sustained. She probably only had the wind knocked out of her, but I was hardly an expert on alien biology. If she was dead Sebbit was likely to be a lot more difficult to negotiate with. I released the half of the chain I still held and let it wrap around her torso. It pinned her arms to her chest while her hands still grasped uselessly at her throat. I kept my foot on her chest and her own rifle trained on her head as I turned to look for her partner. Clumsy was lying face down on the floor. Her black armor looked almost grey under a thick cover of dust and metal debris. The slow rise and fall of her chest told me she was at least still breathing; which didn¡¯t rule out that she might be faking. I looked down at the Peacekeeper under my foot and waved the barrel of the gun slightly. It was unlikely she spoke English, so I was hoping she would understand the motion as the universal sign for, ¡°move and I will fucking shoot you.¡± If she failed to understand I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I could shoot her in cold blood. I was also terrified that I could. I took a step towards the possibly unconscious guard, but quickly realized that it didn¡¯t matter if she was awake or not. I just needed her to stay still for a moment. I created another chain and she was quickly bound in the same manner as her friend. I have to say ¡ª if she was acting, she gave one hell of a performance. ¡°Now, you girls be good.¡± Clumsy showed no reaction while Gun Girl glared at me murderously. I¡¯d never really given bondage much thought, but it seemed a handy skillset I should have developed earlier. Is that why my dad always encouraged me to join the Boy Scouts? I turned to look at the steel hatch. It was little more than a grey, oval door made of thick metal. The bottom of the door was raised about four inches above the floor and a ring of metal clamps held it shut. A spinning handle had been built into its center. I reached out and grasped the handle and spun it counter-clockwise. The hatch began to spin but quickly met resistance. I turned it the other direction but ran into the same problem. Of course, it was locked. Things were never that easy in real life. I looked down at the two guards. I was already trying to figure out a way to communicate with them. They might have translators, and I could probably mime out what a key was. Even if they understood, I was sure they would try to play dumb and stall as much as possible. I would just have to search them and hope I found something useful. Before I could do so the entire world shifted. My vision blurred and the chains I had constructed loosened for a fraction of a second. The feeling quickly passed, and the guards gave no indication they had noticed. ¡°Shit, titty fucking Crist,¡± I yelled. The dome had come down and Telvy would be flying back to the Yorktown at that very moment. I turned back towards the hatch and began gathering every ounce of energy I could into each of my legs. It was much like what I had done during my battle with the King Behemoth, but on a larger scale. It was dangerous, incredibly so, but I had no more time. I kicked forward and watched as the door was ripped from its hinges with the earsplitting sound of twisting metal followed by an explosive bang as it hit the far wall. Hopefully, no one was standing behind that. ¡°Well, that might have been a little too much.¡± I looked down at Gun Girl and smiled. ¡°Sorry about the cleanup. Sebbit¡¯s got the bill.¡± She stared up at me with wide eyes, and I couldn¡¯t help but blink in response when her inner eyelids closed. It was just unnatural looking, like the shutter of a camera spiraling closed in slow motion. She used my momentary distraction to kick upwards with her bound feet. It was an impressive performance of speed, athleticism, and flexibility, but she couldn¡¯t have known that I didn¡¯t need my eyes to see the chain that still bound her limbs. I leaned back and turned my body to the side, narrowly avoiding her attack. At the same time, I reached forward with my right hand and grasped the chain that was wound tightly around the back of her legs. I spun around like an Olympic discus thrower. Gun Girl¡¯s head bounced off both walls before I finally released her to land limply next to her partner. I ignored her. If she attacked again, I¡¯d just have to deal with it. I was past the point of doing things carefully. I¡¯d have to do this the same way I¡¯d done most of the best things in my life ¡ª loud, messy, and over too quickly. I stepped through the empty cavity that had once been a door. The room behind it was much like my jail cell had been, but slightly larger and the floor was tiled in an unsightly shade of lime green. It was either the color, or the room¡¯s inhabitant, but I found myself holding back a mouthful of bile. ¡°Gah. What the fuck is that?¡± The creature looked like a person had been half swallowed by a blob of rancid, grey flesh. The stench was unbearable, and the way it moved made my skin crawl. It flowed across the room bonelessly, it¡¯s body rippling and undulating as it slowly inched forward like a monstrous slug. The human half of the creature was covered in ruptured pustules and scale-like scabs. It hung off the back of the boneless ooze of flesh and remained unmoving as it was dragged behind like a useless clump. I raised the rifle and aimed it at the creature¡¯s head. It seemed unlikely that this would kill it, but I had no idea what to do. As I looked down the barrel of my stolen gun a face came into my sights. One eye was milky white, and the face was almost completely covered in scales and boils. Its scalp was mostly bare, save for large liver spots and a few sparse clumps of grey, brittle hair. It was a face that would have been unrecognizable if it hadn¡¯t been for one green eye that gazed at me with unblinking focus. I could sense intelligence, and something familiar, behind that unblemished eye. ¡°What have they done to you?¡± I rushed forward and took the face in my hands. I ignored the danger around me even as the rancid flesh continued to circle me. ¡°Troy, can you hear me? Are you still in there?¡± A single eye stared at me. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Half his face was split open, but the half of his lips that remained seemed to be silently mouthing the same two words. They repeated over and over, but his eye eventually closed, and his face fell deathly still. Whatever hell he had been trapped in, he had seen the hope of salvation when I had appeared. I wouldn¡¯t let my friend down in his final moments, even if he had once betrayed me. His last words were silent but clear in their intention. ¡°kill me.¡± It was a request I fulfilled. Chapter Forty-nine: Pearls of Thought Some memories are cherished. They are like a splendid pearl kept in one¡¯s pocket to be taken out and gazed upon during moments of reflection. They become polished and made free of imperfections through constant handling. We revel in these recollections and they become the moments from which we define ourselves; facets in the jewel we call our conscious mind. There are other kinds of memories. They eat away at us ¡ª forgotten but never truly gone. We push them down into the darker parts of our psyche. There we keep them hidden. We bar these remembrances from our waking thoughts through an endless vigil. It is only in our dreams that we confront our demons, as they tear and claw against the hells we¡¯ve fashioned in their image. They wait in those depths and fester until the day we take them with us into our final rest. Or, we confront them and risk a fate more dreadful still: acknowledgment. In acknowledgment, we would see the truth of ourselves, and of the world. We would then be forced to face the certainty that we are weak, insignificant creatures in a vast and uncaring universe. I had one such memory. I forged another at the moment I took the life of my best friend. This was twice now that I¡¯d watched a man give up hope as his body betrayed him. Troy had asked for death, begged me to kill him. I had agreed, not in anger, but in mercy born from recognition. I had seen that same look upon the face of my father. I had worshiped the man, even as his body gradually failed him. A strong man had been left a broken husk, nothing more than a shade trapped in a prison of his own flesh. The final time I had seen my father his eyes had held the same acceptance that I saw in Troy¡¯s. In our final moments together, my father had briefly opened his eyes to look up at me, and even though he had long since lost all power of movement, I felt his hand tighten, slight and brief, around my own. I had thought it a positive sign, but he never saw the morning. For years I¡¯d blamed myself. I¡¯d pushed down the memory, completely forgetting that look in his eyes or the feeling of his hand grasping my own. It was the only farewell he could give, and yet I had never acknowledged it. I¡¯d never understood the significance of the look in his eyes or the message contained in the final desperate grasp of his hand. Now I spoke farewells to someone else. Mortality claimed my friend, and as it took him it left behind memories that resonated with pain long repressed. I had torn Troy¡¯s head from a pool of pulsing flesh. At that moment, it was the face of my father that I had seen. The face I held in my hands was that of a man grateful to meet his final rest. I should have mourned him, and I would, but for a short time I clung to feelings of joy at having been able to release him from his prison. I had failed once, but not this time. Troy would not have to suffer a slow, torturous death as my father had. I refused to push down either memory. Instead, the two memories became linked inexplicably as I made a new realization about myself. I would hold onto these memories and take them out when nothing else could give me strength. I was not broken, and I was not weak. I could kill, but I could also build and protect. Perhaps I was going mad. If the Fisher was to be believed I already was. So, what? If I was crazy, then so was everyone. It was no more rational to love the memory of my father than it was to hate or kill. I could do all three. I held the proof in my hands. I lingered in the room for a moment, but I had more work to do. I set the only recognizable piece of Troy on a small bed in the corner of the room and covered it with a sheet. I didn¡¯t look back as I walked out into the narrow passageway. I was full of conflicting emotions. Memories of my father filled me with joy, but I also felt regret and mourned the death of my friend. These thoughts brought with them feelings of guilt and reminded me that I had failed to find my mother. I¡¯d barely even thought of her in days. I might still have a family ¡ª something to cling to from a world now lost. And Liv. She was my first love, and her husband was now dead at my hands. I feared she was caught up in this mess as deeply as Troy had been. I had to find her, or what remained. A pragmatic corner of my mind whispered that I should have forced the creature to speak. Troy had left me with many unanswered questions.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. I set those concerns aside by focusing on what I needed to do next. Clumsy and Gun Girl were still bound on the floor and appeared to be unconscious. I searched them and found what I was looking for on Clumsy¡¯s belt. She had been carrying two explosive satchels identical to the ones Catayla had used to bring down the bridge. It had only been a hunch, but it seemed that if the scout had been carrying them, then they were probably standard issue. I fumbled with the device for a moment, but I had seen Catayla use them and I had a near-perfect memory. After depressing a small black button for several seconds, a sharp beeping sound alerted me that it was armed. A shape made of interlocking curves appeared on a small display. It looked almost like a stylized drawing of a knot that was slowly unraveling. I tossed both charges into the room behind me and slammed the hatch shut. I wanted to be gone before they detonated but I took the time to bring the two guards with me. I couldn¡¯t be sure that the explosion wouldn¡¯t be larger than I expected. Fire or smoke could also spread out of the room and kill the Peacekeepers. I was going to negotiate with Sebbit and being responsible for killing two of his subordinates probably wasn¡¯t the best opening gambit. Once the two women were cocooned in chains of eldritch energy, I began retracing my steps back through the aircraft carrier. I dragged the two soldiers behind me while ignoring the occasional thuds as armored heads collided with unyielding steel. The middle level of the Yorktown opened to a wide aluminum ramp that led down to a narrow wooden pier. I propped the two Peacekeepers against a post at the bottom of the ramp and released their restraints. Once the chains had fully dissipated, I turned and prepared to leave. I felt a moment of unease, scratching at the back of my neck. I expected my entrance to be easy, as there was most likely only a skeleton crew left behind at the Yorktown. My escape, however, had gone unexpectedly well. I hadn¡¯t so much as seen another soldier. That didn¡¯t always mean they weren¡¯t there ¡­ Before the thought was finished the explosives I had placed detonated. The sound was a muffled thud, but it was loud enough to draw my gaze. As I looked up a bright flash filled my vision. In the same moment, something heavy collided with my skull. Closely behind the impact was an air cracking boom. My vision filled with swimming lights, and my skull reverberated like a bell. The hit had launched me forward. My head landed first, and I bounced and skidded across the pier. I came to a stop inches away from the guardrail, one hand extending beyond the edge of the pier. My arcane shield was still active, but that one shot had depleted over eighty percent of my mana. One more shot like that and I was as good as dead. Reacting on instinct, I threw my hands forwards and a wall of swirling shadow and fiery embers grew up in front of me. This caused the pier to explode into splinters of concrete splinters and the section I was laying on fell into the cold water of the Cooper River. Bullets broke through the surface of the river, creating dozens of spiraling tails as they cut through the water around me. A nearly overpowering rage burned inside me. I had gone to all that trouble to spare the lives of those two guards. Whoever was attacking hadn¡¯t even waited till I was clear of their unconscious comrades before opening fire. I held back the anger, using it to focus myself. I couldn¡¯t control it; my emotions were still too raw from all that had happened. All I could do was aim the rage in a useful direction. Behind me were two injured guards and who knew how many guns aimed in my directions. In front of me were answers and freedom. Tiller was with Sebbit, fighting an army of monsters. It was also likely that the cultists were behind the army, just like they had been the cause of the dome and the herd of behemoths. I couldn¡¯t get answers from Troy, but if I could get my hands on another cultist, I might be able to learn what had happened to him. They might even be able to give me information about Liv, if she wasn¡¯t with them. Liv couldn¡¯t be my only priority. I had friends on both sides of this conflict. That included Catayla. The blue-scaled scout was still my friend, and I had promised her it would stay that way. Whatever happened, I needed to make sure I protected those I cared about. During moments of rage, it was easiest to think about the simplest motivations. I split off a small portion of my focus and a shadow doppelganger rose up above the waves and began charging towards the Yorktown. The copy was created from pure eldritch energy, which meant I could control it like any other construct. I used this ability to propel it through the surface of the river and I launched it directly towards my attackers. It wouldn¡¯t be able to fly for long. My control got weaker the faster it went or the further it got from me. I had given it the rifle I plundered from Gun Girl, and it strafed the Yorktown with covering fire. With luck, the Peacekeepers would be caught off guard by an image of me flying through the air like Peter Pan¡¯s homicidal shadow. The surprise wouldn¡¯t last long, but it might buy the clone a small amount of time before it was inevitably cut down. Hopefully, enough time for me to escape unnoticed. I decided to ignore the fight behind me, and instead swam south towards the larger battle. I could sense the opposing armies as a vortex of eldritch energy. It was like a reverse tornado, a wide base of swirling energy that fed upwards into a narrowing cone that ended about fifty meters above the ground. Whatever was at the top of that cone was absorbing energy at an unbelievable rate. Even the near unlimited energy released by the dungeon core would only be the tiniest fraction if compared to the energy that was concentrated at the top of that cone. Thousands fought within that ever-growing storm. I couldn¡¯t make out any individual shapes, but the frantic nature of the energy surrounding the battlefield told me the fight was much more pitched than I had anticipated. I had expected the Peacekeeper to be mopping up when I arrived. Instead, it seemed as if they had found a real fight. Chapter Fifty: Charge of the Dark Brigade My head was still ringing when I pulled myself onto a narrow, rocky beach. My stamina was full, though my mana was still less than half. Perhaps losing all that mana at once was the cause of the pain, or some injuries just weren¡¯t serious enough for the system to register. I laughed at the thought. If I had felt like this before the world had gone to hell I probably would have taken the day off. The most strenuous activity I would have engaged in was heating up Cup Noodles and streaming cartoons ¡ª now I was preparing myself to face an army of eldritch abominations. It wasn¡¯t far now. I was already at the edge of the vortex of energy. I could feel it in the air as it passed over my skin. Anything involving eldritch energy always felt off; it was tinted with dark emotions and the feeling of truth hidden just beyond perception. The energy of the vortex had something else to it. It was somehow ¡­ less clean. It stank of grime and felt like oil on my skin. It seemed to coat everything it touched in a layer of filth. It felt like death and decay, if the concepts were expressed as emotion. It was as if the idea of death, the feelings we associate with the concept, had somehow manifested in reality. The force of the vortex pulled at me like a raging river as it threatened to catch me in its current. This was made worse by the reaction it had on the eldritch energy I stored within myself. It was like half the molecules in my body were all being pulled in the same direction, and if I didn¡¯t move with them, I would be torn apart. I was able to create a thin shell of black and red energy around myself, allowing the pull of the vortex to pass over me. The feeling of discomfort lessened but didn¡¯t disappear entirely. The barrier was almost completely translucent, but everything I saw was tinted slightly red. I had never considered myself an optimist, but I couldn¡¯t help but let out a small chuckle when it occurred to me that I was looking at the world through rose-colored glasses. What is wrong with me? It was as if every little thing ¡ª every random observation, or internal comment was hilariously funny. The world looked as if it were burning and smothered in ash. I just laughed. Far to the east, a pillar of light ignited the sky beneath a dark and growing cloud. Together they drowned out the sun, creating a perpetual day beneath a firmament of rolling black. It was like a gleaming pillar was holding up a canopy to shade a dying world. If that was what the heavens had become, perhaps Hell was the better option. The only ones with the strength and knowledge to set things right were fighting for their lives and the lives of everyone I knew. Even New Charleston would be engulfed if the vortex continued to grow. It was absurd that I was here charging forward like some mythical Calvary to save the day. There was no three-foot alien or bearded sage to hand me a magic sword or give me advice that would only make sense in the final moments. No one had chosen me for some grand quest or had even expressed confidence in my abilities, to be honest. Hell, even the annoying parasite that lived in my mind was missing. I was just one man. Perhaps I couldn¡¯t make a difference. I would still charge forward. I was determined to see this through. If I was going out, I wanted it to be without regrets. That meant finding answers. It meant saving my team, my own little corner of the world ¡ª even if I had to let the rest of it burn. I looked up to where the top of the disturbance was, the point where the energy was gathering. I could sense the energy, but my mundane vision was blocked by a tall ledge crowned with gnarled bushes and sparse yellowed grass. Whatever was on the other side of that ledge was gathering enough energy to flatten everything around it. It might even be capable of undoing some of the crazier changes to the local geography. As my irrational laughter and amusement subsided it was replaced by a sense of unease and nausea. My entire body shook, and my legs felt weak. I knew I had to climb that ridge, I wanted to. My legs wouldn¡¯t move. I considered myself fairly used to combat at this point, no expert, but experienced enough to know I wouldn¡¯t freak out. This time I couldn¡¯t set aside the feeling that I was completely outclassed by whatever I was about to go up against. I didn¡¯t need to win, though, did I? I wasn¡¯t here to slay the bad guy. My plan had only ever been to get in and get out. A little chaos sowed over the battlefield was as likely to help as it was to hurt. I kicked up a plume of sand and rock as I ran towards the cliff. The beach was little more than a long, thin strip of grassy sand and I quickly reached the base of the cliff and leaped upwards.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The height of the cliff was about twice the length of a football field. It was made of yellow-orange rock lined with swirling strata. Multiple outcroppings held withered trees and yellow, lifeless grass. The rock of the cliff itself was brittle and easily broke off in my hands, making climbing difficult. Numerous handholds crumbled into dust under my touch before I began creating spikes of energy and slamming them into the cliff wall. I was able to anchor them deep enough that the soft rock could support my weight. Once I had two alternating rows of spikes created, scaling the rock face was as easy as climbing a ladder. From there, it was a matter of seconds before I was swinging my legs over the top of the cliff and looking down on the other side. It was like I had climbed into another world, a world of conflicting extremes. I stood above a sweeping valley with high cliffs on two sides. A meandering river ran through the valley, dividing vibrant forest from rolling hills of grassland. The trees were large and had curling trunks from which grew twisting, pointed branches that exploded into tiny green leaves. Amid the sea of leaves were large blooms of white petals that gently swayed to a chill breeze that flowed over everything. Roughly fifty meters above the valley floated a sphere of dense energy that was so black it looked like a hole drilled into the sky. It absorbed not only light, but the life of everything around it. The eldritch energy was wild and turbulent and spun through the valley like a twister before it was slowly drawn upwards into the sphere. Nothing could be seen through the surface of the orb, even my sight couldn¡¯t pierce the thick shell of energy. Despite that, I could sense life, or some twisted perversion of it. Something was growing inside. I looked away and rubbed at my eyes as spots swam through my vision. Looking at the sphere was painful, as if I were staring directly into the sun. Below the orb was a small area of dead trees that had drooped and split open to reveal swarms of beetles that crawled through black pus that flowed from dead wood onto cracked and barren earth. The ring of death was still small and surrounded by vegetation that still clung to life. The trees at the edge of that divide had leaves that were slowly turning brown, some crumbling into black ash that drifted up and filled the sky above the valley. Bark was slowly sloughing off to reveal blackened trunks riddled with gnawing insects. On the northeast side of the valley, a ring of metal barricades had been constructed around the remains of an overgrown building. Dirt and vegetation had filled the building and burst out from swollen walls. Soon it would be nothing more than an oddly shaped hill, completely hiding the architecture that was its skeleton. Muzzle flashes followed by rapid barks of gunfire drew my eye. The peacekeepers had retreated behind large metal barriers that stood in front of a rounded courtyard. A blue haze surrounded their location like a thin, permeable wall. It was too far for me to see individuals, but I guessed there were at least fifty of them. A horde of creatures surrounded the building on all sides. There were thousands, perhaps tens of thousands. Even more amazing than the number and variety of the monsters was the way they were segregated. The creatures ranged from humanoid to giant quadrupeds and even included winged serpents and floating tentacle abominations ¡ª yet they all grouped together like tribes unwilling to intermix. Each of the larger tribes contained a leader, and these creatures were the only exception to the segregation. There were thirteen of them, and each was massive and vaguely humanoid. Their features and limbs were hooded and hidden under flowing red robes. Smaller, human-sized figures clothed in brown or green robes surrounded these monstrosities. They had yet to attack but were instead standing behind their armies as if unconcerned by the growing body count. They stood gazing outwards, their smaller attendants defending them and occasionally attacking barriers with bolts of green lightning. A line of death surrounded the overgrown building, but monsters were beginning to pour over the metal barricades as peacekeeper troops fell back into the courtyard. Telvy had beaten me there, and I could see her covering the retreat of a group of a dozen black-armored Peacekeepers. I guess she didn¡¯t go back to the Yorktown, after all. Her long red hair flowed behind her like a rallying banner. Chains hummed as they sliced flesh like razor-sharp whips. Some of the larger creatures would hold out for a moment but would wail in pain as her chains wrapped around their limbs and slowly sank into thick hides before slicing through bone and sinew. It was a masterful, and terrifying dance. A group of robed figures bombarded her with streams of green fire. She easily deflected or danced through the attacks, but she was slowly being driven back into the courtyard. Once the soldiers she was covering had passed through, the archmage joined them behind the shimmering blue wall of force. A black, buzzing fog filled the air above the sheltering Peacekeepers. The cloud circled the perimeter of their defenses, and the shifting haze made it difficult to make out any details on the other side. The cloud had a strange way of moving, shifting from one direction to another rapidly. Occasionally, it would take short pauses where it had almost no movement at all. The swarm seemed unable to pass through the blue forcefield and fizzled into smoke and ash upon contact. Larger beasts would charge the wall of energy as well but would be quickly cut down by spells and bullets before they could make contact. It seemed a solid defense, but the Peacekeepers had been driven back and were now forced to be completely reactive. Without a counterattack, I feared they would lose a battle of attrition. Once their barrier was gone, they would be quickly overrun. I had no way of knowing how long they could hold the forcefield, but it if it was powered by mana, they would run out of resources eventually. If I reached them, I could reinforce the shell with a nearly limitless amount of eldritch energy, but my own focus and concentration would eventually waver as my mental fatigue increased. No, defense wasn¡¯t the answer. The only thing I could do was cut a line through the horde of beasts and then retreat with whomever I could convince to go with me. Even if they could win a protracted battle, there was still the growing sphere of deathly energy. I didn¡¯t want to be around when that thing finally hatched. Chapter Fifty-one: Ave Maria I followed the ledge of the cliff as it gradually angled towards the northeast. I stayed low, trying to stay behind the sparse vegetation and sporadically placed rocks. This slowly brought me closer to the courtyard, but there was still the problem of an army of creatures between the Peacekeeper encampment and myself. There were gaps where the different breeds of abomination refused to mix, but I couldn¡¯t see a way to slip through those narrow openings without being detected. The area around the battlefield had been trampled flat. Even the grass had been ground down to nothing but dust. There were no trees or rock formations large enough to provide cover. A stream that had broken off from the larger river cut through the northern half of the horde, but just getting there undetected would be impossible. Even if I could, I had no guarantee that I wouldn¡¯t be noticed as I tried to swim against the current. There was no clear shot to the courtyard, and a growing number of beasts were congregating around the area. Different species would occasionally engage in short skirmishes to determine which of them would be allowed to attack the Peacekeeper defenses. The losers would scurry off, biding their time. It became a constant rotation of infighting followed by challenges and posturing that were inevitably followed by an earth-shattering charge against the glowing blue forcefield. Each time these attacks would be broken by a deluge of fire and lead. Whatever faults I had with the Peacekeepers, I couldn¡¯t criticize their accuracy. Despite this, the attacks showed no sign of slowing. It was an unending cycle as more beasts would take the place of the slain. Each wave destroyed was added to a growing mound of corpses. It was as if the horde was content to entomb the Peacekeepers in a mountain of sacrificial flesh. Even for mutated, eldritch infested beasts, it seemed unnatural. Their survival instincts had been overpowered by a mindless bloodlust. There had to be more to it, some motive I wasn¡¯t seeing. This single-mindedness only aided me, as it kept the thousands of unfriendly eyes pointed away, but I still felt uneasy. I wasn¡¯t being watched and had the element of surprise, so it would be a test of their speed against my own. Some of the quadrupeds and smaller humanoids were quick, but I was capable of explosive bursts of speed when required. There was even a chance of assistance if I could get close enough to the courtyard ¡ª though I was uneasy to put my safety in Sebbit¡¯s hands once more. If only the mindless beasts were the only thing I had to worry about. The red-robed giants stood as silent sentinels. They peered down on everything before them with unmoving attentiveness. Each was ringed by a group of thirteen mages. What I needed was a distraction. It would have to be big. My eye slipped down to the pocket of energy I was using to carry the dungeon core. I had intended to use it as a threat ¡ª a way to get Sebbit to back down. The idea seemed foolish now. The captain was way too by-the-book to give into what was essentially a terrorist threat. Besides, it couldn¡¯t be a bluff. I¡¯d have to truly be willing to go through with it. If I wasn¡¯t sincere, he¡¯d see through the ruse. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was skill or Skill, but the captain was impossible to lie to. I¡¯d have to be willing to blow up Tiller as well. That wasn¡¯t really an option if saving the cocky son-of-bitch was my only goal. It was time to stop thinking, and just act. Let the chips fall where they may. I formed a plan. It was monumentally stupid and not properly thought out, perhaps, but it was all that I had. I jumped from the cliff. For a tiny moment, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to feel the unbridled joy of it. The sky was behind me and the ground raced up to meet me as the wind flowed over my face and brushed back my hair. It was exhilarating. It was also brief. I was trusting to nothing but chance that I wouldn¡¯t be seen before I landed, but that was the smallest worry on my mind. The drop was more than enough to kill me, or at least the old me. Rather than risk shattering every bone in my body I fabricated two wings from pure eldritch energy that sprung from my back and curved outward to catch the air. The wings bore large, black and red feathers and were modeled after the kingfisher¡¯s ¡ª a form I had become all too familiar with. They were big enough to fit on a single engine Cessna, and almost entirely rigid. They looked the part but lacked the strength or articulation for true flight. They were enough, however, to slow my descent as I softly spiraled downward. I looked below to the horde and its masters, but nothing turned to stare up at me. I had either gone unseen or ignore. As I broke through the top of the forest canopy, I dismissed the wings and fell the rest of the distance. I hit the ground with a heavy thud that turned into an uncontrolled roll. It was painful, but after a quick check of my status screen, I was convinced that I was unharmed. Who needed x-rays and doctor visits when I could just summon a hallucinogenic display involuntarily implanted into my head by an invading alien civilization? Progress. Before I continued, I scanned my surroundings for threats. Who knew what kind of scavengers would be attracted to a battlefield this size?Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I found nothing. Nature was never still. Even when you couldn¡¯t see anything, the signs were always there. At least, before that day I¡¯d never seen their absence. I could hear the tremble of the earth as thousands of feet marched across it, and the shouts and howls were a ringing vibration that shook my skull. There was nothing else. No skitter of tiny claws on bark, or the rustling of leaves as creatures fled through the underbrush. No birdsong filled the sky ¡ª only the angry buzzing of millions of flying beetles. Everything else was gone or had bunkered down and feared to show itself. This absence filled me with more dread than any number of visible threats could have. I¡¯d seen what the ecosystem had become, and it was at its most dangerous when you didn¡¯t know what to expect. If it was true that no scavengers waited to clear the battlefield, then something else was waiting ¡ª something worse. I didn¡¯t have time to worry about what I couldn¡¯t see. I quickly sprinted towards the battlefield but stopped before I passed the tree line. It was the last cover I¡¯d have, with more than five-hundred yards of empty space between me and the rear line of the attacking horde. Assaulting the horde directly was pointless, there were too many of them. I needed to take down the generals. The red-robed giants seemed the obvious candidate, but I was hesitant because they seemed too obvious. The closest of the giants was standing his vigil behind a group of green-skinned humanoids. They looked like spindly goblins and were dressed in tattered garments made from untreated hide. They held simple weapons, mostly clubs or short javelins with stone spearheads. Some of their number were much larger, at least three times the size of the other goblins and twice as wide at the shoulders. They were ferocious, battling even amongst themselves to reach the front of the battlefield. The largest would casually trample the others as they charged forward. One such creature even carved a path through green flesh, swinging an oversized stone club back and forth like a scythe cutting down wheat. This casual slaughter of their own people, combined with the segregation of species, told me that whatever was controlling this army had a tenuous hold at best. There was some influence overriding primal instincts and free will, but it was fallible. My only chance was to disrupt that influence. The entire time I¡¯d held the dungeon core I had been slowly venting energy so that it wouldn¡¯t build up too much pressure. I decided to close this vent and slowly contract the pocket, allowing the pressure to build unchecked. I quickly felt the energy pushing against me. It struggled against my control as it grew stronger with each second. This was incredibly dangerous and was akin to holding an armed bomb without a visible timer. Luckily, I didn¡¯t have to hold it myself. Instead, I conjured a Shadow Doppelganger and slowly passed the core to it. It was a slow process, as I had to be sure to keep the orb encased in a thick membrane of eldritch energy. As soon as the process was complete the doppelganger shot forward faster than I could keep up. I followed behind as closely as I could, concentrating on keeping my makeshift explosive encased. If I failed to contain the energy it would either harmlessly disperse or violently expand before I was ready. Either option would likely lead to my death. I could already feel the membrane beginning to degrade. I conjured an illusionary sphere around myself that matched the color of the dirt beneath my feet. It wasn¡¯t a perfect illusion, especially with the speed at which I was moving. My hope was that the screaming shadow flying like an arrow towards the nearest giant would be distraction enough to make my camouflage effective. Before the doppelganger crossed half the open field, bolts of green lightning and streams of jade fire filled the sky. I ordered it to dive closer to the ground. My clone flew low enough that its toes almost brushed the earth, and a thick cloud of dust rose up behind it. This covered its advance somewhat but wasn¡¯t enough to stop a stream of green fire from passing through the shadow. I cursed, shifting all my focus into the duplicate, and lying my true body as close to the ground as possible. The line of fire had evaporated the left leg of the shadow from the knee down. A layer of green flame still clung to the stump of the illusionary leg, despite having no possible source of fuel. The flames slowly climbed over the rest of the leg, threatening to engulf the shadow completely. Rather than continue the attack, I ordered the doppelganger to crash into the dirt. I had it mimic thrashing and screaming, as if it were injured. Its howls were the death throes of a mournful creature. This only drew more attention, and some of the horde couldn¡¯t help but turn towards injured prey. The entire time I slowly crept forward being careful to stay as low as possible. I¡¯d been fishing enough times to know that live bait was the most effective. I¡¯d let the worm dance for a bit before I set the hook. Before long hundreds of the goblins were charging towards my downed doppelganger. The green fire was continuing to consume it, but I sacrificed what remained of the leg and ordered the creature to crawl away. It screamed in feigned agony the entire time. The watchful and hungry gaze of thousands of bloodthirsty beasts didn¡¯t notice a small, black ball slowly rolling towards the circle of robed mages. As the orb got further from me, my controlled lessened. The membrane of eldritch energy became unstable and began to swirl and expand under the mounting pressure. I fought to keep the thickness consistent as the pressure continued to grow increasingly difficult to contain with every inch it moved. Soon I would lose control completely and it would spin out of my grasp. As the horde reached the downed doppelganger, they tore it apart and looked around in confusion as their meal quietly evaporated into harmless mist. With raging shrieks, they began to fight amongst themselves. Stone and wood broke bones and teeth. Blood flowed freely as claw and fang tore into flesh. Screams pierced the chaos, and nothing noticed a small ball as it continued forward. Eventually, the red-robed giant turned its attention away from the battle in front of it and towards the rebelling goblins behind. It let out a silent howl, and the goblins looked up in confusion. A calm came over them and they reluctantly turned back toward the rest of the horde. At the same time, the giant looked down as a small object came to rest against its foot. The face of the creature was hidden in shadows, but its head turned slightly to the side and its shoulders rose. As the creature reached down to pick up the object, I allowed the eldritch membrane to collapse. It didn¡¯t dissipate all out once, instead, it spun as layers of energy gradually evaporated. Tiny pinpricks of light began to appear on the sphere and the energy began to swirl faster. As the speed increased the pinpricks grew larger, and thin needles of energy began to shoot outwards from them. I saw the giant pull back and howl in rage, its hand was dripping blood and missing fingers. The pinpricks of light quickly consumed the entire orb until it was a swirling mass of glowing plasma. And then the membrane stretched beyond its limit and orb released its energy, the final wisp of the protective barrier evaporating into nothingness. Chapter Fifty-two: Leveling Earth and Sky I was expecting something along the lines of a Hollywood explosion ¡ª a controlled, evenly distributed release of kinetic energy, heat, and light. A few billowing flames wouldn¡¯t have seemed out of place. That wasn¡¯t what I got. There were no flames, but there was plenty of light and force. A brilliant wave of light washed over me, drowning everything in an intense sea of white. I was blinded. It lasted only seconds, but those moments contained more pain and death than anything I had imagined possible. The force of the blast had pressed me into the cold soil. Heavy earth fell like rain, burying me further. I felt trapped under the weight and it bore down upon me with increasing force. I began frantically kicking and pushing as I tried to free myself. My panic and the loamy walls of my tomb muffled the sound of the world above me. Everything was distorted and far away, but still clear to my enhanced perception. Those sounds still haunt my more restless nights. Screams full off spittle and rage filled my ears. Howls and pounding feet shook the earth around me in answer to these calls. This was met with a clash of claw and flesh as allies turned against each other. The cries of fury quickly turned into despair as I heard the thud of dozens of bodies hitting the ground at the same time. Something incredibly large was slamming against the earth with terrifying force and speed. The ferocious beat slowly increased in tempo, it was much like the sound of a train picking up speed as it pulls away from a station. The earth responded like taut skin stretched across a drum. The dirt bounced, and waves passed through blood-soaked mud like ripples in a pond. I felt it as a deep vibration in my chest. Each strike was followed by a thunderous boom like the crack of a whip. As the speed of the cracks intensified, I could no longer hear the dings and shouts of combat. A few inhuman voices still called out in pain and rage, but they were quickly being silenced. The wet sounds of tearing flesh and the sickening cracks of shattered bone would follow each percussive strike. It seemed to go on forever but had taken no more than a scant few heartbeats ¡ª a single measure of a ghastly dance. Eventually, even the raging howls and cries of anguish faded into quiet whimpers. Everything else had gone quiet. No sounds of battle or life broke the silence as the deadly percussion slowly stilled. My vision was beginning to return. The blinding white slowly retreated, to be replaced by a deep and overwhelming black. I thrust my arm upwards and I could feel a cool wind between my fingers. I tore at earth and pressed up with my legs until my eyes broke free beneath a purple and hazy sky. The world was blurred and dark and I was unable to focus on the carnage that lied around me. Something large and fast passed over me, creating flickering shadows like the spinning shade of a gargantuan propeller. A gentle hum filled the silence. With every rotation of the shadow, the hum grew louder, and the air began to pull at me like the drag of a large truck passing too closely. As the effect increased, dirt and small stones began to fly into the sky until converging at a single point. I may have joined them if I didn¡¯t still have a half ton of earth anchoring me to the ground. I wasn¡¯t sure how long that would be true, however, as thick streams of dust spiraled into the air and began to rotate around a growing sphere of rock and dirt. The spinning singularity picked up speed and was soon absorbing green-skinned corpses and tearing craters from the ground as loose dirt revealed buried stones of various sizes. I reinforced the earth around me by creating a large net of eldritch energy that covered myself and the small hill I was buried in. I then anchored the net with massive spikes that I drove as deep beneath the ground as I could. Within seconds I was lifted out of my hiding spot, my weight straining against the net. Long gashes were cut into my armor and thick red welts appeared on exposed flesh. The spikes anchoring the net began to loosen and pull free one by one. With each tug, the net was lifted higher above the ground as winding trails of dirt broke free to orbit what was beginning to look like a small moon. The reversed gravity continued to pull me upwards until only a single spike remained to anchor me to the Earth. I grasped the energy of the net and condensed it into a sphere to protect myself from the flying rock and fallen weapons that filled the air. And then ¡­ it stopped. I heard a sound like shattered glass, and everything went still. For a moment I was weightless. I floated among clumps of dirt and stone like detritus cast through space. A globe the size of a large house hung motionless above me. Small cracks appeared in its surface, widening and lengthening almost instantly as the stone began to fray. Not everything fell at the same time. The objects closest to the ground began to obey normal gravity first, before slowly passing the message upwards. As stone and rock began to bury me, I looked up at the boulder that blocked out the entire sky. It was slowly rotating and was still absorbing the dirt closest to it. The spin was slowing, and the surface of the sphere was an ever-growing crisscross of cracks and chasms.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. When that thing came down, I couldn¡¯t be under it. Dirt poured down the rounded sides of my energy shield, all but burying me once again. Only one direction was clear. I bent my knees. As the muscles in my legs contracted, I wound eldritch energy around each fiber. I didn¡¯t have this much control over the ambient energy, but since fusing with my new arm I had gained greater control and understanding over the energy I had integrated into my own flesh and bone. It would hurt, but I could roughly double my power without doing more damage than a heavy workout. Greater boosts were possible, but the risks were greater as well. I chose to increase the strength of my legs threefold. I jumped, my body and legs straightened as I threw my arms over my head. In the same instant, I released my protective shell. I cleared the top just as tons of earth and rock rushed in to fill the void. A thick plume of dust engulfed me. At the same time, the spinning sphere stopped its rotation and hung motionless in the air. The feeling of flying towards it was both invigorating, and terrifying. I continued to fly upwards with no way to correct my course. I was blind in every direction as thick clouds of dust surrounded me. A wall of earth blocked the way forward. It was as if I was falling through clouds of dust towards an empty, desert planet. In the fraction of a second before the orb began to fall, I flipped and landed feet first on its cracked surface. I pushed off against the crumbling rock, creating a cascade of breaks and fissures. Small pieces began to break off from the miniature moon and immediately began to fall. This seemed to be the signal for everything else to follow. I flew outwards, angled slightly away from the hurtling ball of rock and buried corpses. I would reach the ground first and might even have a moment roll into a sprint. I would still land closer to the impact than I would like, though. My mana shield was active but had yet to recover to its full strength after the sniper shot I took to the head. I could have created another shield of eldritch energy, but instead, I chose to focus on speed. I was falling headfirst, and the ground was still obscured. Energy coursed through my legs in anticipation of a mad dash as soon as I landed. I would need to nail the timing perfectly. I tried to calculate my speed to figure out exactly when I would land, but it turned out that a forty in Intellect did not automatically make up for years of minimal effort in math and physics. That didn¡¯t mean I was out of tricks. I conjured several small marbles of energy and threw them forward with a soft underhand. They would land a fraction of a second before I did. I kept a mental hold on the energy, looking for the exact moment the marbles stopped moving. When the marbles hit the ground, I fell into a forward roll. I ended up beginning the roll too early and came down on my hip rather than my shoulder. A burning shot of pain ran up my spine, but I continued as if nothing happened and easily hit my feet running. A shock wave followed by a rolling mound of dust and dirt quickly overtook me. I was buried and knocked to the ground once more. Luckily, this time I was not entombed but merely covered in a layer of grime. Something wet and sticky was mixed with the dirt and pebbles, but I ignored the feeling and turned my mind to other things. The destruction had been massive and had killed nearly everything within its radius. Despite that, the area wasn¡¯t large enough to have taken out more than a tiny fraction of the horde. It was confined almost entirely to the rear flank of the goblin army. Most of the goblins, not to mention the other species, were likely unharmed. One of the red-robed giants and its thirteen cohorts seemed to have been taken out. That, at least, was a win. Whatever intelligence or algorithm that controlled the system decided that this was the perfect moment to remind me it was in charge. A deluge of status updates was starting to overwhelm my senses. Normally they would be welcome, but I had never received so many in such a short time. It was distracting and nauseating. I could feel the air become thick with energy, but it was the flavorless and pasteurized version used by the system. It was like mana, but grey and lifeless. It was devoid of the temperament and instability of eldritch energy. Worse, I couldn¡¯t control it. I couldn¡¯t stop it from flowing into me. I became dazed as it formed a twister above me that funneled straight into my chest. I felt as if I was the drain at the bottom of some celestial tub. I could feel the energy changing me. A large portion of the energy disappeared, and I was unable to see where it went. Flashing lights and scrolling cautions, numbers, and updates distracted me. I dismissed them until I got past the army of fiends and found a safe place. If such a place even existed now. The information kept coming, demanding to be seen. I could set it aside, but the knowledge stayed in the back of my mind demanding to be acknowledged. I had to act before curious or vengeful monsters ventured closer. I may not have taken out the army, but I had filled the sky with a cloud of dust that was slowly settling over everything. That, combined with my illusions, would camouflage my movements. I took off running. I would need speed, and a little luck. I ran roughly the length of three football fields before I exited the radius of the destruction I had created. As I broke through, the dust thinned, and I became aware of something in front of me. An army of green bodies was lined up shoulder to shoulder. Individual goblins would jostle or kick their neighbors, but it was an otherwise unified front. The lined curved as far as I could see in each direction, as if they were creating a ring around the entire area. Shit. Something was suppressing their instincts to an even greater level than before. They were waiting to stop anything that exited the radius of the cataclysm that had consumed thousands of their horde. I wasn¡¯t entirely caught off guard. I was surrounded by an illusionary sphere that made me look like a whirlwind of dust. I should blend into the background, except to the most scrupulous of eyes. As the horde appeared, I conjured a shadow doppelganger and ordered it to run parallel to the army of goblins. The shadow was uncamouflaged and moved slowly. Whatever was suppressing the goblins¡¯ instincts wasn¡¯t powerful enough to stop them from chasing easy prey. This created a large gap in the wall of goblin flesh. I slipped through unnoticed, picking up speed with each step. I reached a sort of no man¡¯s land in less than half a minute. It was a semicircle of cratered and blood-soaked dirt directly in front of the blue forcefield. A small group of familiar faces stood just outside the dome. They didn¡¯t look happy. I took one more look at the wasteland behind me. The army of abominations could not be reasoned with or overpowered. They represented only death. I still hesitated before stepping forward. The look on my welcome committee''s face was not one of gratitude. Chapter Fifty-three: Apotheosis Horizon As I walked through the barrier, I felt a slight tingle as an electrical current washed over my skin. There was a faint fizzling sound followed by a loud pop, and then I was on the other side. The air was fresh and carried a slight whiff of ozone like the cool nighttime air after afternoon thunderstorms. It the only pleasant smell in recent memory. I hadn¡¯t realized how badly the battlefield had stank. I had either gotten used to, or blocked out, the horrible smell of excrement, perspiration, and death. Their absence was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. It¡¯s funny how often the greatest pleasures are found in the relief of something unpleasant. Silent Peacekeepers flanked me on each side. Sebbit walked directly behind me and was joined by Catayla at his left and Talith on his right. They weren¡¯t exactly on my ass, but they walked close enough that I was starting to get a bit claustrophobic. This certainly didn¡¯t feel like the hero¡¯s reception I was expecting. ¡°So, what in Hell is going on,¡± I turned around to face Sebbit. ¡°Did I somehow offend you again? Do you macho assholes not accept help even when you are surrounded and outnumbered? I mean, fuck, just look outside.¡± My rant started calm, but quickly descended into shouting. ¡°Mr. Finn ¡ª¡± ¡°Let me, Captain,¡± Catayla said. She looked at Sebbit and he gave her a slight nod before she continued. Now that I was looking for them, I could see signs of pride on his face. The captain¡¯s smile appeared and disappeared fast enough that I may have imagined it, but it lingered in his eyes. ¡°Finn, we¡¯re glad to see you. We really are. Archmage Armeria told us that she had to leave you behind after stabilizing some very serious injuries.¡± Catayla held eye contact with me for slightly longer than I found comfortable but looked away as she patted my shoulder with one hand. ¡°She also told us about the barrier,¡± I flinched instinctively when Talith began to speak. I¡¯d learned the old armsmaster had a way of punctuating her statements with physical violence. ¡°Apparently you found a way to not only overcome your injury but also continued your mission to bring down the dome. I never imagined you¡¯d amount to anything even close to resembling a competent soldier, but that was a damn fine performance.¡± The massively tall alien looked down at me and smiled, showing multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth. ¡°I¡¯m proud to have trained you.¡± ¡°Uh¡­. Not that I¡¯m not grateful for the praise, but if there is some shit in the middle of this compliment sandwich, I¡¯d like to get it over with.¡± ¡°Ah, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit interjected. ¡°I have missed your¡­ colorful colloquialism. I cannot say, however, that I agree with your assault of women under my command. We will revisit that in the future. Trust me when I say that conversation will go much better if you cooperate now.¡± Something about the way he said it made me feel ashamed. Perhaps it was the way he emphasized ¡®assault of women¡¯ ¨C even if those women were eight-foot-tall alien super soldiers with sci-fi weapons and a nasty set of razor-sharp teeth. ¡°My primary concern, at the moment, is not your insubordination, but the fact that you decided it was a good idea to feed the gestating death goddess. An apotheosis, I might add, that I have spent significant time, resources, and lives just to delay.¡± ¡°Well¡­ fuck.¡± What do you even say to that? I turned and gazed at the sky. The black orb that hung there had clearly grown. It now cut a hole in the sky larger that was larger than a full moon. ¡°We have taken every action available to siphon off the energy in the area, and we have avoided direct conflict at all costs. Those beasts out there do not care if they kill us or we kill them ¡ª they serve their masters either way.¡± ¡°Captain Sebbit,¡± I said. ¡°The only information I had was that you took one of my people into harm¡¯s way. Make that two.¡± I looked over at Catayla as I said the last word. ¡°I will do everything in my power to get them out safely. My team means just as much to me as yours does to you. If that means dealing with a few infant deities, abominations, or elder ones then so be it.¡± Sebbit¡¯s jaw tightened but I couldn¡¯t help but notice the smiles on the faces of Talith and Catayla. ¡°So then,¡± I continued. ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°Very well, Mr. Finn. Come with me.¡± Sebbit agreeing so quickly scared me more than whatever was growing in the black orb. He was even somewhat pleasant. The only explanation I could think of was that he was desperate. We crossed the Peacekeeper camp quickly. Almost every one of the soldiers was stationed behind small, hexagonal barricades. Each shield was made of translucent energy and had several gaps in the center and around the edges that were just large enough to fit the barrel of a rifle. No one spoke, and the silence and general stillness were unnerving. I couldn¡¯t imagine how much training it took to develop that level of cohesion and confidence in a group this large. Not one of the soldiers so much as turned their head to look at their commanding officer as he cut a path through the camp. As we neared the rear of the encampment, I noticed we were walking towards two massive vehicles. They looked somewhat like a tank if you took the basic idea and super-sized it. Each had multiple rows of articulated treads holding up fifty tons of armored plating. There was no cannon, but multiple turret stations lined the top of each vehicle. Between the two tanks was a long, narrow tent made from brown cloth that was similar to canvas. This was the only area in the camp with the most activity; Peacekeeper troops were moving around the vehicles and a stream of soldiers were moving in and out of the tent. I continued to follow Sebbit as he marched into the tent, soldiers moving aside to clear the way. The interior was simple, with a few machines placed to one side and a large, round table set in the center. There seemed to be another room, but it was sealed off behind a drawn curtain. Above the table floated a large holographic representation of the battlefield surrounding the Peacekeeper encampment. Four Peacekeepers stood around the table. They were interacting with hieroglyphic symbols and would occasionally make changes to the hologram itself using arcane hand movements. I almost never saw male Peacekeepers, and yet every one of these technicians was male. ¡°You son of a bitch,¡± I heard Tiller before I saw him. ¡°Was that you out there?¡± I turned and found the gangly airman standing directly behind me. He lifted me into a massive bearhug that pulled me several inches above the ground. I tried to make my discomfort at his physical affection clear with a few awkward pats of his shoulder. ¡°I thought you were dead. Then I found out you weren¡¯t, but then you¡¯d been torn apart by monsters. Try to stay with us this time, okay?¡± ¡°I could say the same thing to you,¡± I said. ¡°But first, can you put me down?¡± ¡°Oh,¡± he dropped me immediately. ¡°Sorry about that, it¡¯s just how I am. Are¡­.¡± I let out a soft gasp and begin to rub my temples. I was having a hard time delaying the system messages and they were demanding my attention with increased insistence. ¡°Are you okay?¡± Tiller asked. ¡°You kinda look like shit.¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m fine, really. Just all these status updates won¡¯t shut up and they¡¯re giving me a headache. I¡¯ll be fine once I get a minute to deal with it.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible,¡± said Tiller. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be,¡± said Catayla. ¡°I mean, there are situations where the system will impose penalties if ignored ¡ª but nothing on a tier IV planet should cause it. The whole point is to impose limits, both on citizens and dangers. This gives the natives the gentlest introduction possible.¡± ¡°Ha, you call this fucking gentle?¡± Tiller said. ¡°You only think this is bad because you haven¡¯t come up against anything above level twenty-five. I¡¯ve seen¡ª¡± ¡°Look,¡± I said. ¡°Can we get back to what¡¯s important? I¡¯ll be fine.¡± I turned to look at Sebbit and Talith.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you have a plan to deal with that thing?¡± I pointed behind me with my thumb. ¡°Hold on a moment,¡± Sebbit said. The captain turned to one of the male Peacekeepers and gave an order in a growling voice that sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The soldier nodded and ran to the back of the tent and moved a large curtain slightly to one side. He shouted to whoever was inside, but never crossed the barrier itself. It only took a few seconds for Telvy to walk out, pushing aside the curtain to reveal a warm golden glow coming from the room behind her. ¡°Finn, my dear,¡± she smiled and threw her arms out wide. ¡°I was positively aghast at having to leave you behind. I¡¯m so glad you made it back in one piece.¡± She paused for a moment and looked at me with narrowed eyes. ¡°How are you¡­¡± she started. ¡°Archmage, please,¡± said Sebbit. ¡°I am sure Finn will answer your questions in good time.¡± He looked at me with an expectant stare as he finished the sentence. His cold eyes lingered for a moment before he continued. ¡°Right now, we require a status update on your formation.¡± ¡°Oh, well alright,¡± the archmage frowned. ¡°I¡¯ve completed the basic formation array with a series of mana infused silver inlays and copper wire salvaged from local tech, a brilliant piece of improvisation if I don¡¯t say so myself.¡± She lifted her chin and turned her head, showing off a long graceful neck. She continued to pose for a moment, seemingly gazing at some invisible point in the distance while quietly polishing her claws on the front of her shirt. When she finally finished her preening, the mage huffed before turning back to her explanation. ¡°I solved the power problems by connecting the dungeon cores in a master/slave chain regulated by the AI daemon, but there are just too many variables. Everything is ready ¡ª but I¡¯ll need several minutes to calibrate and adjust to the deific entity¡¯s specific energy signature and aspect.¡± ¡°What,¡± Sebbit rubbed between his eyes as he spoke. ¡°And please speak plainly ¡ª what exactly do you need?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll need time. The Apotheosis Horizon has already been crossed. We no longer have any chance to stop the event in its infancy. We¡¯ll have to wait for the fledgling deity to emerge and then distract her long enough for the AI to finish calibrations ¨C then we pray the spell works.¡± ¡°Reassuring,¡± Talith said. Sebbit remained remarkably calm for a man who was just told that his only way to stop a death goddess was to ¡®pray.¡¯ He used his characteristic thousand-yard stare to look through the Archmage for a moment before nodding his head. ¡°Get it done.¡± ¡°Mr. Finn,¡± the captain turned to speak to me just as he was opening the tent flap. ¡°Leave Telvy and her new apprentice to their work¡­¡± As Sebbit spoke the word apprentice Tiller stood up straight and pointed at himself with both thumbs ¨C the universal gesture for ¡°this guy.¡± ¡°¡­ and follow me.¡± Sebbit didn¡¯t wait for confirmation before he exited the tent. Tiller looked like he wanted to say something, but Telvy was already heading to the backroom and calling for him to follow. Instead, he settled for giving me a firm pat on the shoulder before running after the archmage. I followed Talith and Catayla as they exited the tent. ¡°Alright, Mr. Finn,¡± Sebbit said as soon as we were clear of the tent. ¡°Thanks to you we no longer have to hold back. Saddle up and get comfortable, we roll out in ten.¡± A powerful engine started up behind me, its roar loud enough to vibrate my teeth. ¡°All right,¡± I said with a smile. I¡¯d always had a fascination with anything that had lots of horsepower. Besides, riding inside the tank would give me a moment to allocate my stats and handle whatever other updates the system was throwing at me. I found a ladder, but merely used it as a handhold before leaping to the top of the vehicle. I followed a group of three Peacekeepers as they entered an open hatch. The inside of the vehicle was long and narrow with two rows of chairs built into the walls. The floor and walls were solid metal and the only window was a clear door leading to a two-man cockpit. I slid into the nearest chair, ignoring the looks of the alien commandos that sat around me. I had much more interesting things to occupy my attention. Allocating stats felt good, like feeding some primal need. I had gained eight levels, bringing me to twenty-five if you counted the three levels I¡¯d gained before I had a class. The number looked satisfying, but I noticed that the bar showing progress to the next level had turned grey and no longer displayed a number. It seemed I had finally reached the cap ¡ª I vaguely remember Talith mentioning one during our training. It seemed like years ago. The existence of tiers, however, told me that there existed ways to overcome these limits. I had sixteen free stat points, and my class bonuses had given me eight each to Focus and Perception. I spent two points to bring perception up to forty and it immediately turned grey. I split the remaining points by putting eight into Agility and five into Reaction, rounding each out at an even twenty. I regretted not saving enough to bring Focus to the cap as well, but my physical stats felt neglected. First world problems, I guess. The concept of a first world was kind of pointless now, wasn¡¯t it? Was America even a thing anymore? Sebbit had told me that most of the world was intact, but I also knew that monsters and dungeons weren¡¯t the only dangers. I was pretty sure that a single high-level criminal could take on any police department that relied on pre-apocalypse weapons and tactics. Was the concept of government something that could survive that reality? I shook off the brief lapse into introspection and began scrolling through the rest of the updates. They were mostly meaningless stamina or XP updates ¡ª but two caught my eye. The first was a warning that my progress towards the corruption feat had increased by ten, but it came with absolutely no clue what that meant. The other was an entirely new feat: Herald of War ? - Where you walk war follows. You have slain hundreds upon the battlefield and anointed yourself in blood and earth. Your wounds close and your stamina returns with each kill you make. This effect is proportional to the strength of those who fall before you. Beware, the very presence of a Herald on the battlefield fills the hearts of both friend and foe with an overwhelming desire for battle. It was a double-edged sword if it caused my enemies to fight harder than before, but it was also reassuring to have a way to heal myself in battle. It also felt completely tailored to my current situation. Was it merely a coincidence or was it ¡ª ¡°So. You¡¯re finally back with us. Feeling any better?¡± I shook my head and looked up to find a blue-scaled face directly across from me. Catayla had changed her form-fitting jumpsuit for one of the black, bulkier versions and carried a rifle much larger than her usual armament. She¡¯d also managed to find a bandolier filled with shiny metal orbs. There were dozens of them, and the belt carrying them had to wrap around her chest twice to accommodate them all. ¡°Oh. Uh Yeah, much better. It¡¯s like scratching an itch.¡± I leaned back in my chair and smiled. I probably looked goofy as hell, but I didn¡¯t care at this point. The vehicle kicked forward at the same time and the engine became louder. The floor began to visibly vibrate, and the force of the sudden movement nearly pushed me into the soldier sitting next to me. ¡°I need to cover a few things with you, so listen up.¡± I nodded and held eye contact to let her know I was listening. The vehicle began to shake even more violently as I heard gunfire coming from above. At the same time a deafening boom rang out, and the tank tilted slightly to the left before righting itself. ¡°We are going to sweep the battlefield,¡± she yelled above the racket of the oversized engine. ¡°We rendezvous with team A in approximately two and a half minutes. At that time¡­¡± she paused to point to the rear wall of the transport. ¡°That wall will blow out and we exit and secure the area. You¡¯re going to be third out the door ¡ª just behind me. Do you understand?¡± ¡°Got it,¡± I said. Time to start paying attention to my surroundings ¡ª a war zone wasn¡¯t the best place to fuss over my Skills and FP. ¡°Stay behind you and secure the area. Simple enough.¡± ¡°Good. Finn, we¡¯re going to need you out there ¡ª your ability to build defenses is going to save lives today. Focus on defense, leave the offense to the big guns.¡± She patted her comically large rifle fondly as she spoke. I began to nod, but my head was flung back into the wall behind me as the transport ramped up a hill and came down on the ground hard. ¡°You¡¯ve got it,¡± I whimpered. ¡°Here to help.¡± ¡°Good ¡ª¡± she put two fingers against one ear and broke eye contact as she looked down and to the left. ¡°Incoming! Hold on to your asses, ladies.¡± I copied the Peacekeepers as they pressed their foreheads against their knees. I looked up at Catayla to find that she was the only one still sitting upright. She had a small circular tablet that she was typing into furiously with a single clawed finger. ¡°Go! Go! Go!¡± she yelled. Before she finished the final word, I was surrounded by a blue energy shield and the world fell out from under me. I was still belted into my chair but there was nothing beneath me but a thin blue membrane and the hard, rocky earth. An explosion of orange and red flames lit up everything behind me. To the front was nothing but the ground, which was quickly rising to meet me. I landed with a bone-jarring thud as a cloud of dust surrounded me in a hazy fog. I began to fumble with the buckles securing me to the chair. As the noise picked up around me my heartbeat rose as well. My hands began to sweat, and I couldn¡¯t find purchase on the metal clasps. I could hear screams and gunfire, but I couldn¡¯t see what was happening. In frustration, I turned the fingers on my right hand into blades and began to cut and smash my way out of the chair. I sliced at the belts and pummeled the chair with my elbows and feet. It eventually slid off me as a tattered scrap of cloth, steel, and plastic. By the time I stood up, the blue shield had completely faded, and the dust had settled enough that I could see a small group of Peacekeepers standing around me. They had formed a ring and were shooting outwards at shapes that moved just out of sight. I looked but couldn¡¯t find Catayla among them. I remembered her orders to focus on defense, and the first thing that came to mind were the hexagonal barriers the Peacekeepers set up throughout their base. The shields would protect us, and the Peacekeepers obviously had training using them. It took me less than a second to create the constructs. They quickly grew up from the ground until we were surrounded by a ring of hexagonal barriers. The shapes were perfectly designed to be fit together, and I quickly began to construct a roof above us, merging the hexagons into a single dome. I had to credit the Peacekeepers for adaptability, as they immediately took cover and began to fire through the small gaps in the barricade. It was as if this was a routine thing they had trained for a thousand times. Perhaps it was. As the alien women fired into the shifting fog, I looked back in the direction of the transport. I couldn¡¯t see through the fog, but the light of a large fire pierced the veil of smoke and dust like a beacon. Two more explosions appeared as short bursts of light and sound before fading into the constant rhythm of gunfire. A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. A large head encased in black armor stared down at me and yelled a few gruff syllables, but I was unable to understand the alien speech. ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± I yelled while pointing to my ears. The Peacekeeper looked at me for a moment before nodding. She pressed four outstretched fingers together and pointed using her whole hand before using two fingers to mime walking. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but her message was clear. I dismissed a hexagonal shield and the Peacekeepers fell out in two single-file lines, charging across the battlefield. I followed but chose to place myself between the two lines. I was amazed when they instinctively closed ranks around me, protecting me from every side. It wasn¡¯t much, but I felt much better having willing meat shields. Chapter Fifty-four: Fingers of Death I ran in the center of a Peacekeeper formation. They towered over me in bulky armors, making me feel as if I were enclosed in a wall of scale and steel. Heavy feet cracked the earth as we moved away from the relative safety of my hastily constructed defenses and towards the sounds of gunfire. We were headed for the smoldering ruin of our former transport, its flames cutting through the fog like the smoldering remains of a lighthouse too stubborn to give in. Both abomination and beast circled us, their roars and claws striking from every direction. A deep growl startled me, and I looked to my left. I heard the skitter of claws on stone, but my eyes saw only a blur retreating behind a thick haze. Things hid in the miasma of ash and dust, darting in to strike before fading back into the fog. Attackers fell before a constant stream of lead, delivered with scalpel-like precision. The women surrounding me, the soldiers, never hesitated or missed. They charged and killed, and I ran with them. I was struck by the beauty of it. Brilliant flares of gunfire burst through the plumes and ribbons of dust like hundreds of burning stars born into a chaotic nebula; each created only to die in the same instant. I felt as though I were watching the relentless cycle of death and rebirth at a cosmic scale. I looked down as something hard yet brittle cracked under the pressure of my boot. One more step and another object, round and white, snapped before turning into powder beneath my foot. Small yellow-white shards littered the ground, and long angular protrusions pushed through the earth like broken teeth in a malformed jaw. Bones, withered and bleached, were strewn across the dry, dusty field. The further I ran the greater their numbers, and the greater the extent of their decay. Even if these corpses, it must have been thousands of them, predated the battle, they couldn¡¯t have been more than a few weeks old. Despite that, only dry, desiccated bones remained. As we drew nearer to what remained of the Peacekeeper vehicle, I felt myself begin to weaken. My stamina slowly began to drain, and I felt a heaviness in my limbs. It was slight, but perceptible. My stamina was going down by only a fraction of a point every few seconds and was regenerating at almost the same speed. I could probably last hours at this rate if I didn¡¯t exert myself, but the loss was slowly increasing in speed the further I moved. I looked around, but if any of the troops around me were experiencing a similar weakness, they gave no indication. I looked to find the Peacekeeper who had tried to communicate with me earlier. I had come to think of her as Boss Lady, because of the way she had taken charge earlier. Her actions gave no indication that she had noticed the drain, either. It was convenient that I just gained an ability that allowed me to replenish stamina in battle. I still found it odd, but I wouldn¡¯t let my unease stop me from exploiting the ability to its fullest. My thoughts were interrupted as the Peacekeepers began to slow. We were only a few hundred yards away from the transport at this point, and Boss Lady had come to a halt. She held a closed fist above her left shoulder as a signal to the others. In the same moment, the charging soldiers stopped and fell to one knee. Rifles jumped to the ready with the heavy clang of metal on metal. The change in position was almost instantaneous and was carried out with it a practiced grace. I planted my feet and skid to a halt with decidedly less grace. I was unsure what to do so I began to create large, hexagonal shields. A thin membrane was beginning to take form when Boss Lady stopped me by holding out an open palm and shaking her head in disapproval. As soon as my shields were dismissed, she threw three small orbs about fifty yards in front of us. She then repeated the action behind and to each side of us. As soon as the last grenade left her hand she turned and made eye contact before giving me a quick nod. Everything gained a slight red haze as my shields solidified around us. I looked forward, taking a deep, desperate breath. Before I could fill my lungs again, the air was knocked out of me by what felt like a train driving through my chest. Pillars of fire and light rose up into the air as multiple shockwaves converged around me, sending tremors through me that shook my bones. My shields did little to dampen the force, but it was over quickly. I fell to one knee, as I struggled to draw breath. Air came in short, fitful gasps that felt like hot needles tearing through my lungs. Nothing moved. The only sound was the drumming of my own heart. The only things I could see were bright specks and swimming lines of light. I gently rubbed my eyes, but it did little to help. The quiet stillness seemed to drag on forever, and I could feel the pre-fight fear beginning to grip me. The sweat running down the back of my neck turned cold.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. I turned my head, my eyes darting back and forth feverously. I envied the calm control of the women around me. They remained unmoving as they gazed into the quickly darkening fog that surrounded us. Soon, shifting shadows filled the mist once more. Clacks rang out as rifles were pulled against armor, but no one fired. Boss Lady stood up, a closed fist held above her head with her rifle down at her side. My heart raced, every instinct in me cried out to fight. I had to either destroy the danger around me or flee. I needed to act, and I really only had one ability that would be helpful. I focused on slowing my breathing as I waited for the fight to begin. It calmed me, if only slightly. The calmer I was and the more clearly I held the image, the more powerful the construct would be once conjured. Luckily for my chaotic mind, a sharpened pole is one of the most basic forms imaginable. As the shadows began moving towards us, Boss Lady kept her arm upraised. The shadows were beginning to take form and were slowly moving forward. I noticed them take a strange, tilting gait ¡ª a half step that was almost falling, followed by a short lunge. It created an unnerving two-beat rhythm. Before I could fully make out what the creatures were, Boss Lady threw her hand down and drew her rifle up to her shoulder. The Peacekeepers responded with an unending barrage of bullets. I maintained my shields, while also conjuring a rain made of dozens of fencepost sized spikes. After a volley, I¡¯d release control of the energy, allowing each projectile to slowly unravel to free up my focus for the next round. I repeated this process several times before I finally saw what I was fighting. One of my spikes impaled the head of a creature while a hail of gunfire cut through its torso and limbs. As it fell to the ground there was no blood, instead, a pile of splintered bones rolled forward. The bones might have been from a goblin, or even human. The forms they had been shaped into were not. As I looked up from the pile of loose bones at my feet, several more of these creatures became visible. What I saw resembled shambling mounds of bones crafted into only the barest hint of a humanoid form. They were not skeletal, merely made from bones. Every part of these golems was created from tightly packed bone, with no regard for original function. One creature had a pile of skulls making up its chest, while its head was made of a rib cage and a broken pelvis. It ambled forward on thick legs of coiled bone that moved with jointless dexterity like powerful, supple worms. One hand was like a massive club, and the other ended in a long, thin blade made from a sharpened femur. I redoubled my efforts, straining my focus as I continued to conjure lances of chaotic energy. In my shock, my focus slipped and a wave of backlash washed over me, driving me to my knees and setting my ears ringing. Still, I continued. Spears of energy littered the field of battle and countless bullets shattered bone. The golems would continue to move forward despite broken bodies and shattered limbs. Even destroying the head was not enough. One such creature was slowly approaching when I shattered its head and tore off both legs with a hail of spikes. Despite these injuries, it continued to drag itself forward with barrel-thick arms made of mismatched bone. Boss Lady switched positions, taking the shield directly in front of me. She dispatched the crawling bone golem with a single shot using some form of explosive round, before taking out three more of the creatures in less than a second. When she was finished, she turned towards me, a cloud of gun smoke clinging to her figure. As I looked up at her I saw her expression fall as her gaze became far away. She reached out and grasped my shoulder with a strong, long-fingered hand and drew me towards her. I looked up towards her eyes, violet surrounded by flecks of gold. She looked down at me with a predatory stare. Unlike most Peacekeepers her face was smooth. Rather than bumps and ridges, she had a group of three small scales at the corner of each eye and in a thin line around her jaw. She barked an order at me in a gravelly voice and physically moved me so that I was looking in the opposite direction. There I saw the silhouette of two massive columns growing into the sky. They twisted and swayed like grass blown by a gentle wind. My first thought was that someone must have dropped some magic beans. I almost couldn¡¯t control my laughter, even surrounded by a literal field of bones. That fantasy was quickly broken when the twisting vines began to fall towards me. As they came crashing down, I threw up another layer of shields and directed everything I had left into a volley of spikes. Boss Lady¡¯s rifle began to shorten as its barrel widened; within moments she was firing grenades towards the twin, monstrous limbs. Each shot hit its target with a thump and a thin sheet of flames that clung and began to spread across the moving pillars. The remaining soldiers were directing their fire towards the pillars as well, ignoring the shambling bone golems that were still advancing on our position. Grenades, automatic fire, and heavy shots that shook the air with the force of a cannon ¡ª none of these stopped the speeding descent. The sky grew dark as the shadow enveloped us completely. The pillars became fully visible in the seconds before their imposing bulk swallowed us completely. Each was a pale white tentacle made of tightly packed bone that writhed and spun like millions of maggots crawling over each other. The bones clinked together producing an ear-splitting rattle. The world went dark. Chapter Fifty-five: Our Lady, Who Art in Hell ¡°Wake up, Gussy Gus.¡± The voice was low and lilting; it was feminine and seeped in mirth and half-stifled laughter. It was as if the words were spoken during the discovery of some great delight, like a greeting between two friends long parted. I had the sense, however, that this amusement was born of malice rather than joy. I tried to look around to find the speaker, but I couldn¡¯t move. I was surrounded by something heavy that pressed down on me from every side. The weight shifted as I tried to move, causing the pressure to bear down on me all the harder. As my body struggled, my mind reeled at the smell of rot mixed with chalk that permeated my tomb. My eyes saw only black. I was not truly blind, however. I could sense a thick cloud of energy, made of a combination of the familiar red-black eldritch and the strange death-flavored energy. It had sunk into everything around me. It hung over the battlefield like a heavy cloud, seeking to drown everything beneath it. At the center of that cloud was a beacon of energy too radiant to look at directly. It was as beautiful and intense as the sun, but consumed life rather than sustained it. I could feel small, pulsing channels connecting it to every creature in the area, alive or dead. I was no exception. I pulled back, using my senses to map the contours of the objects closest to me. I seemed to have been buried beneath a large pile of rubble. It was made of small, brittle objects that had broken into irregularly sized pebbles and long, jagged shards. I searched for Boss Lady and her squad beneath the rubble, but they couldn¡¯t be found. ¡°Fisher!¡± I yelled more than once, but no response came. It seemed I was still alone in my own head. ¡°I know you can hear me, you fucking bird!¡± The only answer was silence, and an increase in the weight that bore down on me. The weight and darkness began to erode my will. Flashing system updates failed to illuminate the darkness, instead, warning me that I was injured and that the drain on my stamina had increased in speed. I battled an urge to give in, to just fall asleep and never awake. What was left to save? There was nothing that could be done, best to sleep ¡­ No, not yet. I pushed aside my loneliness and despair and did what I do best ¡ª I lashed out blindly and violently at everything I could touch. My right arm narrowed and elongated into a whip ending in five razor-sharp claws. I thrashed and spun, using the weaponized arm to crush the rubble into a fine powder. As I created more room for the limb to maneuver, I slowly inched it toward the surface. At the same time, I created a skintight barrier around myself and slowly began pushing it outwards. The weight was intense, and it took all my focus, but the pressure on my body slowly lessened as the shield expanded. This gave me room to move and allowed me to strike with more leverage as I tried to dig myself upwards toward the unknown sky. Perhaps, I would have been better off hiding in my tomb. Eventually, my clawed hand broke through to the surface and I saw light. It split and scattered as it reflected off dust, breaking through the dark with visible lines of alternating greys and red.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. I worked to widen the tunnel, and several small objects rolled towards me, creating clinking echoes. As one came to rest beside my face, I recognized it, and with that realization so too did I understand the nature of my surroundings. I reached over and picked up the small, chipped knuckle bone. I held it in front of my face, before focusing on the dome of white and yellow that hung above me. It was bone; all of it a mountain of skeletal remains. Most were broken and crushed, but under the pale red illumination, they became recognizable. Half-intact skulls were wedged between cracked ribs and shattered femurs. The ridges of a severed spine could be seen under the crushed remains of an ulna and other bones too small and damaged to identify. To be surrounded by that much death made we wonder in awe at the power of whatever had caused it. It reminded me of the fragility of my own life. Rather than be horrified, however, I mostly just felt unclean. I had an urgent desire to be free of it, and to scrub away the rot and death. Despite each bone being fleshless and dry, I felt as if I were covered in a layer of slimy filth. I retched silently, but the action only served to remind me of how long it had been since I had eaten. I stuck out with a strength born from blind panic. I continued my efforts until the tunnel was just barely wide enough for me to slide through, each inch slowly and painfully gained. My barrier kept my passage open until I broke through the surface, after which the tunnel collapsed inward while expelling a cloud of white dust. I breathed in large ragged gulps. The air was sweet as it filled my lungs, and cool as it gently brushed my face. I closed my eyes, allowing myself a brief moment of blissful denial before standing to survey my surroundings. I stood on a small mound amid a field littered with desiccated corpses, and sun-bleached bone. What had felt like a mountain as I clawed and scraped my way free, was no more than a half-dozen yards tall. Dozens of similarly sized piles were visible, and many more existed beyond the thick fog that limited my range of sight. Above me, a glowing orb of red and black dominated the sky. It formed connections to everything within sight, slowly draining the living and empowering the dead. I could see this connection as forking channels, like black lightning frozen in time. I was being drained as well, which just meant I needed to find something to kill. Re-kill? Hopefully, the Herald of War feat wouldn¡¯t make a distinction between killing and re-killing. It was quite considerate of the budding death goddess to provide me with handy arrows pointing towards everything in my immediate area, alive or dead. I leaped from the mound of bones, sliding down an incline while leaving a trail of crushed ivory behind me. There was no solid ground to land on, just a thin layer of remains to crush under my boot. I ran across this field of white, aiming in the direction a particularly dense group of the undead. I was unsure, as it was hard to tell the difference, but there seemed to be a small group of the living in the area as well. As I ran forward, the large sphere only grew larger. I seemed to be aiming for a point directly below its center. The field of bones grew thicker, no longer could small glimpses of brown earth and blackened grass be seen between cracks and gaps. The air was full of mist, gentling the deathly imagery though obscuration. To uncareful eyes, I might have been running through snow-capped hills. It even crunched under my feet, much like the snow I remembered from an almost forgotten Christmas my family had spent in Vermont. Once I approached the area under the sphere, I noticed a change. The bones were vibrating and slowly sliding across the ground, and a deep rumbling could be heard within each mound. Some of the piles seemed to be growing upwards as if fed from some underground source. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± I yelled. ¡°There is no way I need to be here.¡± I came to a stop, realizing for the first time that I was charging into a graveyard that was likely to be my own. My entire body shook. Even my eyes began to water, but I sighed and continued forward. I wouldn¡¯t call it bravery, just a stubborn refusal to change course ¡ª I was Ahab chasing my whale. I was determined to find some meaning, save some corner of a world that had been changed irreparably. These sound like likely reasons, but the truth was I was terrified and wanted to turn back. I cried and shouted at myself. I fought, but like an addict watching the needle slowly plunge into his vein I felt powerless to stop my relentless charge towards death. My pace became slow and stuttered. Chapter Fifty-six: The Darkness Before Dawn The being that shared half its face with one of my oldest and dearest friends continued to descend, her feet finding purchase on empty air. Her wings slowly shrank and folded behind her like a feathery, mismatched cape. Apparently, they were not needed to maintain flight. Liv always had been one for dramatics. ¡°¡­ But how?¡± I stammered. I was horrified at the implications of her appearance, but a large part of me was relieved to see her alive. Could she finally explain what was happening? God, did she know about Troy? Did she know what he had become, and what I had done? These thoughts crashed through my head, silencing questions of much graver import. ¡°Hold on, Finn,¡± she said. Her voice was soft and seductive, with no trace of the vileness that invaded her flesh. ¡°Our reunion can wait. We have other friends coming over to play. It would be rude not to invite them in.¡± She extended the broken, charred flesh that was her right hand and closed her claw-like fingers into a fist. I followed her gaze to the second Peacekeeper transport, which was charging up another mound of bone. Just as the transport reached the apex, it¡¯s front two tires beginning to gain air, the mound exploded. ¡°Fuck, Liv,¡± I screamed. ¡°Please, you don¡¯t have to do this. You know I¡¯m not your enemy.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be such a spoilsport,¡± she waved her hand dismissively. ¡°Your new toys are fine, see?¡± Broken bits of bone were still raining down around us, but when I looked back to the destroyed mound, I found another of the giant bonetacles reaching into the sky. It wrapped around the Peacekeeper vehicle, swallowing it into a mass of bone. Slowly, the giant limb began to move towards me ¡ª bringing the transport with it. ¡°Liv, I don¡¯t know what¡­¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to say anything, Finn.¡± She continued her descent until she was standing before me on an invisible plane of air. ¡°It¡¯s enough that you stand with me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t ¡­ but stand with you against what?¡± ¡°Against the world, Finn. Everyone and everything.¡± She reached out and cupped my cheek with her unmarred hand. I placed my inhuman hand over her pale flesh, leaning into her embrace. ¡°This entire fucking universe would see us slaves, homogenous drones, to serve a broken system. A system that has invaded even you. We are more, don¡¯t you see? We can be gods, Finn. It¡¯s our birthright, given to us by the Founder, his greatness knows no bounds.¡± Behind me, I heard a crash and the groan of bending steel. My eyes stayed firmly locked on Liv¡¯s. There was a strange beauty to the sharp contrast of her new form, a fierceness mixed with the pureness of her former self. The vortex of her empty eye socket drew me in, even as an eye of beautiful sapphire-blue promised me warmth and love. ¡°And you would what?¡± I asked. ¡°Tear down the system, and kill thousands, billions ¡ª just for power? I can¡¯t support that Liv. Don¡¯t you know what your ambition did to Troy?¡± ¡°Troy?¡± Earsplitting laughter echoed through the bone-lined hills and canyons. It was an inhuman screech, like the mocking call of a stalking predator. ¡°Troy was never one of us. Just a disposable tool, though it is unfortunate you had to kill my serpent. He would have been so much fun.¡± She sighed in annoyance, a blackened hand coming to rest on her hip. ¡°But then, who am I to deny my former paramour his jealousy.¡± She pulled her fingers across my cheek until they came to rest below my mouth. ¡°I do hope you enjoyed the feel of his flesh coming apart in your hands. The power you hold, Finn! Isn¡¯t it intoxicating?¡± I pulled back, pushing away her hand. I found her strength to be unmovable, but she slowly drew her fingers back. Her jaw set, jutting forward slightly, and she crossed her arms over her chest. I¡¯d seen the same expression on her face countless times, often right before she began to pout. ¡°I don¡¯t want this power, Liv. You think I wanted to kill him? Troy was my best friend! Your husband, once ¡­¡± She exploded into motion, and before I could register what was happening a single hand was wrapped around my throat. She slowly raised me above her head. ¡°Troy was nothing, Finn! It was always you ¡ª we were to rule together, until ¡­¡± She dropped me into a ball on the ground, my hands grasping at my throat as I desperately sought to breathe. Liv crouched down, cradling my head in her arms. During the confusion I lost track of Catayla''s unconscious form, leaving her to slide unseen into a bed of bones ¡ª slowly buried alive. ¡°But I had you, didn¡¯t I?¡± Her smile twisted into a grin as she began to stroke my hair. ¡°That small piece of you, I carried it. I nurtured it. You must have known. Didn¡¯t it kill you to see another man claim your daughter as his own? You should have fought! You watched her grow, and never knew her true importance.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Import¡­¡± I tried to speak, each syllable was like gargling with acid. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me? Cat ¡­ was mine?¡± I sat up, ignoring the pain in my lungs. Her powerful hands made no motion to stop me, and she chose to stand. She twirled in a graceful circle and bent over, bringing her face within inches of my own. I could smell her, it was like burnt flowers and freshly spilled blood. I met her gaze, both of us unspeaking for long seconds. I grabbed her by the throat and jumped to my feet in a single, powerful motion. Liv¡¯s smile only widened. ¡°What the fuck happened to her, Liv? Where the hell is my daughter?¡± I screamed. I attempted to move her, to squeeze her throat into paste; but it was like fighting a rock wall. ¡°Hel,¡± she laughed. ¡°Happened to her. It¡¯s your father you should blame ¡ª you were to be a king among gods. He burned the Mantle, cleansed his blood in fire. He stole your birthright and he perished for it.¡± She slapped away my hand, shattering the bones in my wrist. ¡°But the foolish son of a bitch didn¡¯t know he had another heir. We always knew his misgivings. My mother spent hundreds of years trying to capture his seed. In the end, the task fell to me.¡± I held my shattered hand and looked at her in horror. I was done speaking, I had no idea what to say. The Liv I knew was dead, or perhaps had never existed at all. ¡°You could say,¡± she said sweetly. ¡°That this beautiful new world began the moment our lovemaking ended. What greater creation could a parent hope for?¡± She approached me, twinning her fingers behind my neck. I made no attempt to stop her as she slowly pressed her lips to mine. She tasted of ash and spoiled meat. When she pulled away, she let out a soft moan of pleasure. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you, Finn. I never expected to develop such fondness for you, yet here we are.¡± She gave a half grin and began to twirl her hair with one finger. ¡°I¡¯m just a goddess, standing in front of a boy¡­¡± I plunged my right arm into her stomach. Each finger lengthened into jagged blades, twirling as they tore through flesh. ¡°You killed her!¡± My face contorted in pain, anguish I never knew existed. I stabbed her repeatedly, each time my hand coming away with thick chunks of flesh as blood stained the ground. ¡°You fucking bitch. I will end you!¡± A kick sent me flying, half burying me in fine, white powder. I stood, brushing the dust from my eyes and jacket. My legs felt rubbery, and I swayed as I walked back towards the self-proclaimed goddess. I would kill her, even if it killed me. ¡°You wound me, Finn.¡± She said, jutting out her lower lip slightly. ¡°I mean, not really. More ¡­ metaphorically.¡± My right arm had lost all feeling, and as I looked down, I found it had become a shapeless clump. I had lost control of the energy that formed the limb, and it was beginning to droop like melting wax. Liv¡¯s midsection was a hole full of blood and ash but it was already beginning to mend. ¡°You don¡¯t know what you could have been, what it means to be a God! I¡¯d kill a thousand daughters to feel this. Mine, yours, I don¡¯t care.¡± Her face contorted into a savage snarl before gentling. She walked forward and reached out to caress my cheek once more. ¡°You should know, before I kill you,¡± she said while placing a finger under my chin. She lifted my face until our eyes met. ¡°In the end, I couldn¡¯t do it.¡± She shook her head and turned, looking over the fields of death she had created. ¡°I felt some ¡­ sentimentality. It was Troy who slit her throat, spilled her blood upon the altar. She looked up at him afterward. Her last sight was of her murderer, the only father she ever knew. I could see the pleading in her eyes as they slowly darkened. It killed me too, Finn. She never knew why she had to die.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a monster, Liv,¡± I no longer had the energy to shout or lash out. I faced her eye-to-eye, refusing to back down. ¡°I will kill you.¡± ¡°Oh, Finn. My little Gussy Gus, you won¡¯t be killing anyone.¡± She stretched out her black hand, ash falling from it in gentle wisps. A golden spear began to form in her closed fist. ¡°You will watch me kill your friends, and then you will beg me to spare you as I carve out your heart as an offering to the Founder, may he rule once more!¡± Hands made of bone reached up from below. I struggled to free myself as they slowly pulled me beneath the surface, leaving only my head uncovered. I had a perfect view of the shattered and smashed transport. Sebbit and several of his subordinates had slowly crawled from the wreckage and were lying around it, propped up against debris ¡ª rifles trained forward. Liv laughed as bullets landed futilely around her. Sebbit held an impractically large revolver that fired grenades, but every shot exploded several feet before reaching the goddess. Her wings unfurled behind her and she rose into the sky, pillars of purple light filtering between the gaps in her feathers. I couldn¡¯t move my body, but I was not entirely powerless. As golden spears began to rain over the injured Peacekeepers, I created a shimmering black-red dome to shield them. The spears broke by the dozens, each time creating long, winding cracks in my barrier. I filled the weaknesses as quickly as possible, but the barrage continued, and the mental fatigue was beginning to slow my reactions. I bought Sebbit and his women a few final moments, but eventually, my shield broke under the relentless onslaught. Black armor was rent by golden spear, and flesh was torn and perforated. Screams filled the air as soldiers died under that misty sky. A weak, gurgling laugh pulled me from my remorse. Sebbit was still alive, though multiple spears pinned him to the ground. He pulled one from his leg and tossed it aside. The ones piercing his stomach and shoulder remained. ¡°May I request some final words?¡± Sebbit¡¯s usually reserved voice rang out with power and conviction. Hope filled me, and I used the distraction to begin working my arm free of its restraints. ¡°The goddess Hel will grant your request,¡± her voice was deep and resounding, as if it came from the heavens themselves. ¡°Give me your final words and I shall carry them into the halls of Valhalla.¡± ¡°That will not be necessary, but thank you,¡± the captain¡¯s voice was beginning to waver. ¡°I just wanted to express my gratitude at having served my queen, the Resplendent Wave, for over a hundred cycles. May she someday know peace.¡± Sebbit coughed, blood flowing over his chin. He paused to pull a white cloth from a small chest pocket, dabbing carefully at the corners of his mouth. ¡°Is that all?¡± Hel boomed. ¡°Not quite, thank you.¡± Sebbit dropped the cloth to the ground, his administration having done nothing to lessen the blood that covered his face. ¡°I also wanted to thank Mr. Finn for buying my people the time they needed. He will know glory in his time, but yours is up.¡± A golden spear pierced the heart of Captain Sebbit¡¯Task Orvillio Xern. As he took his final breath, a golden sun rose in the east. Chapter Fifty-seven: Hubris, Slayer of Gods I watched Sebbit¡¯s lifeblood seep into bone, adding to the carnage that lay beneath him. He met his death with the same quiet dignity and staunch professionalism that he showed in life. I imagine he followed protocol even in the end. As the captain¡¯s eyes closed a brilliant golden light filled the sky. The intensity continued to increase until everything was awash in brilliant hues of white and gold, as if the sky had been consumed in fire. The air began to shimmer, and scattered bone cracked under the growing heat. A defiant shriek descended from above. Liv still hovered above me, but her face had contorted in horror. Her wings beat frantically, yet she seemed unable to make headway against whatever force restricted her. The demigoddess¡¯ cries and struggle became more desperate as the light and heat continued to increase. The world itself seemed to answer her call; the earth and bones that trapped me began to shake, producing a chattering rattle that I felt before I heard. The small fragments of bone vibrated as they began to move around me like a liquid, slowly drawing me beneath their pale white surface. As my face was covered by bony quicksand, a powerful flash became visible even through the growing layer above me. A thunderous boom split open the sky, soon followed by a powerful shockwave that pulled me into its grasp. The wave of force carried me backward, a cloud of dust billowing around me. The force of the impact had blown through my shields, depleting the last of my mana. I was unable to gain enough orientation or focus to bring to bear the enormous amount of eldritch energy surrounding me. Every attempt I made to create a shield formed too late, protecting an empty pocket of air I had already long passed. I tried growing a cocoon of eldritch energy around myself to act as a cushion, but it was forming too slowly. I could already see the ground growing large beneath me. In the fraction of a second, before I landed, I did the only thing I could think of, using eldritch mimicry to create a partially-real copy of the arcane shield spell. It would stop a large percentage of the damage, and unlike mana, eldritch energy was an almost unlimited resource. Hopefully, it would be enough. As I landed, the shockwave continued outward. The circle of force pushed through mounds of bone, clearing the ground as shards of brittle white dust joined the expanding cloud. My hand shot up to my ribs, I could tell I had cracked at least a few. Multiple status screens appeared to highlight my injuries in more detail ¡ª I had fractures and bruises throughout my body and my stamina was under twenty percent and still dropping. A cloud of dust blotted out the sky, but Liv was still clearly visible. She glowed with golden flame, two long tendrils of yellow energy had constricted her torso, breaking through flesh and bone. A third tendril was racing towards her head, but she turned and batted it away with a golden lance. She lashed out again and again, but each time the tendril grew closer. She was physically unrecognizable as the girl I had grown up with. There was now little dichotomy between the two halves of her face. Her smooth, porcelain skin was charred and had become of a patchwork divided by jagged rivulets of blood. Her mouth was bent into a defiant scowl, a look I recognized. It was possible, even now, to find traces of the girl I knew. ¡°Liv!¡± I shouted. I still found it difficult to hate her. The revelations were too new, and I couldn¡¯t reconcile what she had become with the girl from my memory. None of that stopped me from trying to end her. She was weakened, I may never have a better chance. Long pikes glowing with swirling black and red energy burst from the ground. I reached out with the full strength of my eldritch arm and grasped each pike before throwing them into the sky, one by one. At first, Liv ignored my attacks as each throw was pushed wide by an unseen force. I responded by increasing the frequency until she was forced to spin her long, golden spear to deflect my own. The parry cost her only a fraction of second, but it was enough for the golden lash of energy to break through her defenses. She screamed as flesh sizzled and a long gash appeared that ran down her shoulder and across her chest. I continued my barrage, forcing her to split her focus between myself and the tendril of energy that danced around her. Its blows continued to increase in speed, but I noticed the tendrils wrapped around Liv¡¯s torso were beginning to grow fainter. Once more, my throw broke through her defenses and she was forced to parry. As she deflected my blow, she turned to look at me, her eyes narrowing and her cheeks dimpling as she smiled. ¡°Finn,¡± she said with a raspy wheeze. ¡°Aid me and we can be together once more! We can unlock your birthright and rule this land together as gods ¡­¡±This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. ¡°Fuck you.¡± My words were quiet and failed to rise above the howl of the wind. I was too tired to banter. Instead, I communicated with action. I continued to throw my conjured javelins but also split my focus to produce a rain of spikes from above. They might not do much damage, but I would whittle away at her focus as much as possible. Wait ¡­ if all I wanted to do was distract her, then I had the perfect tool. It was dangerous. Who knew what fucked up shit I¡¯d see inside Liv¡¯s head, but it had proved effective. I threw a spear while dozens of razor-sharp spikes rained down from above. At the same moment that Liv spun her spear to deflect my attacks, a glowing eye slowly opened in the middle of my forehead. A wave of pain and nausea rolled through me as my vision went black. I fell to my knees and clasped at my reeling stomach. I felt as if burning needles were being shoved under my eyelids, and every inch of my skin began to itch. A soundless scream escaped my throat as an image began to materialize in my mind. Dull, earthy browns floating in a void of white swirled until they revealed a forest. Men and women dressed in fur and linen walked down a cobblestone path. Horses and goats followed, with small children playing underfoot. I saw a man turn to speak to a woman next to him, both smiled as he took a small child from her arms. As the man raised the child above his head I looked into the babe¡¯s eyes. They were brilliant sapphire-blue gems framed in golden curls. The image began to fade, but before it went dark, I saw a powerfully built warrior turn to scold the two lovers playing with their child. The face was harsh and weathered. His mouth twisted in anger as he shouted unheard words. Deep lines creased his face, and intense green eyes stood out against a massive beard streaked with grey. ¡°Dad ¡­¡± The pain intensified, and my legs gave out, sending me into the dirt. My hands scraped against the sharp stone and splinters of bone that still littered the ground. The eye in my forehead began to burn and my head craned upward, as the eye focused on Liv. She no longer fought, she merely stared down at me. Her eyes were narrowed, and her mouth was slightly open, but still turned upward in a wide smile. All three of the golden lashes held her firmly and were beginning to draw her downward as they tightened, cutting into her. ¡°More, Finn!¡± she yelled in triumph and glee. ¡°See the truth. See what we truly are!¡± As the eye locked onto her I became aware of every molecule of her being. The information was too much to process, and all conscious thought stopped. I gave in completely to the desires of the eye, its mission to show the truth. As the golden lashes bit into Liv¡¯s flesh I became aware of hidden lines of energy binding her to something else. Thin, wispy streams flowed from her. She was connected to thousands of people from all over the earth. I could see them, their belief in the goddess of myth giving her power. These connections were insubstantial and flimsy, true belief had long since vanished. Only the faintest whiff of tradition and yearning for times of old remained. Something larger and more powerful bound her as well. It flowed into her as a thick, venous tendril of purple and black. It spread throughout her, rhythmically pumping as it filled her with vigor but taking something as well. I cast my vision outward and saw that the writhing vein stretched far into the distance, disappearing beneath the ground. Whatever was connected to Liv was located directly at the center of the pillar of purple light that divided the sky in two. At the bottom of the dungeon, something waited. Something far older and more powerful than giant spiders or fledgling goddesses. I could sense its hunger as its attention noticed my gaze. For a moment our vision met. It whispered something to me, before breaking the connection with a wave of buzzing metal backlash. The eye in the middle of my forehead slowly closed and faded. Whatever was feeding Liv was powerful and sinister but didn¡¯t seem to wish me dead. At least not yet. As the eldritch vision cleared, my physical eyes regained their clarity. I was still looking upwards at Liv. She was bound, but no longer struggled. She merely looked down at me with a wide smile on her face. I could see the streams of energy that flowed through her, but as the Eye of Madness faded the tendrils began to diminish. At the moment before they disappeared from my sight, the thin, wispy tendrils began to glow. Liv moaned in pleasure as the human half of her face began to mend. She closed her eyes and reached out to one of the golden lashes binding her. She squeezed the lash between her thumb and forefinger, and the binding shattered like glass. Golden sand fell to the ground, losing its luster as it was cast among the dust and bone that littered the field. ¡°Oh, Finn,¡± she said. ¡°You have truly outdone yourself. I had no idea so much of the old religion still existed. Thank you for opening my eyes.¡± She pouted, playfully sticking out her bottom lip as she put one hand on her hip. ¡°Well, they don¡¯t exist anymore ¡ª but, oh well.¡± Her voice was chirp and chipper. She sounded just like the cheerleader I remembered from High School. "I think a little Old Testament style recruiting will do wonders for my complexion." I stood alone on a field of bone, beneath a literal goddess of death. My mind was still confused. I tried to speak but my words came out as slurred syllables, lacking any sense. Liv slowly glided to the ground, standing above my prone form. ¡°Oh, Finn,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t believe that whole ¡®rule together¡¯ thing. It was all an act, you understand.¡± Liv¡¯s face lit up with delight, as she reached down and grasped me by the throat. She easily lifted me above her head, as if I were a toddler. ¡°Know I could kill you, Finn. I¡¯ve killed those far closer to me. You¡¯d be but an ant beneath my boot, and in the end, that¡¯s all you are.¡± She sighed dramatically, before throwing me back unto the ground. ¡°But¡­ he seems to have a plan for you.¡± She leaned down and pulled me up by the jacket, until her mouth was inches from my ear. ¡°You know where to find us. Don¡¯t keep him waiting.¡± The back of my head struck the dirt once more and I saw four massive wings unfold before I drifted out of consciousness. Chapter fifty-eight: Dreamscape ¡°Hey, Kid.¡± ¡°Fisher?¡± I said, opening my eyes slowly. ¡°I thought you were gone for good this time.¡± ¡°No, Kiddo,¡± he stood up from a crouch and offered me his hand, ¡°This time it¡¯s all me.¡± I shook my head, refusing to take his hand as I stood. We were in a dusty brown field full of winding cracks and sparse, yellow grass. Dawn was just beginning to appear, painting the sky in orange and blue. I smiled as unfiltered sunlight warmed my face for the first time in days. ¡°Where are we,¡± I said, ¡°this doesn¡¯t feel familiar.¡± ¡°Augustus, my son¡± he grasped me by the shoulders and looked into my eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve known this place all your life. It¡¯s who you are.¡± I looked around at the arid desert but found nothing familiar. It was just dry, cracked ground devoid of life stretching as far as the eye could see in almost every direction. Tall mountains, blue and snowcapped, stood like giants to the west, as dark storm clouds gathered behind them. ¡°If this is all I am,¡± I shook out of his grasp, ¡°then I¡¯m worse off than I thought. Perhaps it¡¯s all the lies I¡¯ve been told. My whole life has been a lie, hasn¡¯t it? Dad. Fisher? Whoever you are.¡± ¡°No,¡± he shook his head, ¡°not that. ¡°Everything else was a lie, but not who you are. The power. The truth of our family, our past. We are not gods, Gus. Not like we were, like all men can be. We are merely the descendants of fools who made a poor choice in allies.¡± ¡°Then tell me where we are, why any of this is happening. Tell me why a girl, a child I barely knew, had to die. My child, Dad. And tell me why the monster that killed her still lives.¡± ¡°Gus ¡­ son. I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t be there for you. I can¡¯t answer your questions. I am just a memory, a fragment left by a dying man. The world has become a dangerous place, but I¡¯m afraid you will have to make your own way once you leave here.¡± ¡°Then tell me just one thing, you¡¯re useless to me if you can¡¯t.¡± ¡°I will, if I can.¡± ¡°How,¡± I growled, ¡°do I kill a god?¡± ¡°The source of a god¡¯s power, son, is the Dreamscape. It is a world that binds all minds, from the lowest insect to the beings that play marbles with our universe. Perhaps even creatures greater still. The power to visit that world is what allowed my grandfather to create the first generation of ¡®gods¡¯. It¡¯s a power you share.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand. If I¡¯ve had this power all my life, why have I never used it? Why did you never tell me?¡± ¡°The mantle, a shackle really, suppressed it. Recently though, you¡¯ve felt it haven¡¯t you? Perhaps you¡¯ve even begun constructing your own Mindspace?¡± ¡°That¡¯s ¡­¡± I thought back to my chats with the Fisher and the floating island in the middle of a black void. The creature had said it was a part of my own mind. His part. ¡°Maybe,¡± I conceded, ¡°and the Fisher, and the burning Eye?¡± ¡°Creatures of the Dreamscape, yes, but also more. Beware the temptations of Madness, Finn. It is what first gave rise to mortal consciousness and it is a powerful weapon, but it¡¯s a sword that cuts both ways.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°And I can use this place,¡± I waved my arms in front me, ¡°to kill Liv?¡± ¡°She is not a god,¡± he shook his head, ¡°not like those of us who once ruled in Midgard. The Liv you knew is long since dead, but now is not the time to mourn. Not until you face our true oppressor, and the true source of Liv¡¯s strength. If the Founders return, I¡¯m afraid it will be too late. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re here to tell me it¡¯s too late?¡± ¡°No, Finn,¡± he smiled, ¡°I¡¯m here to train you. Here, in this place, anything is possible. Weapons, opponents, even time can be created and destroyed with a thought.¡± ¡°Train me?¡± I raised one eyebrow, ¡°to do what? Fight gods and level up?¡± ¡°No,¡± he shook his head, ¡°not to kill gods, but to create them. You¡¯ll need to grow powerful, but you¡¯ll also need allies to face your true enemy.¡± ¡°The creature at the source of that giant pillar of light?¡± I asked. ¡°The creature at the very bottom of a dungeon that already almost killed me once?¡± ¡°Yes, son,¡± he placed a hand on my shoulder, ¡°and the source of Liv¡¯s power and the architect of the machinations that have ruined our world. Our family¡¯s shame has come to fruition, you must set it right.¡± ¡°So ¡­ what you¡¯re saying is, we need to go on a boss raid?¡± ¡°Gus, I have no idea what that means.¡± ¡°I know, dad. I know.¡± *** ¡°Oh, thank fucking God.¡± I heard Tiller¡¯s voice. ¡°He¡¯s awake!¡± He sounded muffled, and far away. My eyes slowly opened, but I quickly shut them under the assault of a powerful light. I saw only white as I blinked away the crust that had formed in the corners of my eyes ¡°Finn,¡± I heard Telvy¡¯s voice, ¡°Can you hear me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± I moaned. ¡°Where am I, though? How long have I been out?¡± I slowly sat up, my muscles felt stiff and unresponsive. I hadn¡¯t been this weak since before the system. Was atrophy still a thing I needed to worry about? I felt like I¡¯d been gone months, but I had no idea how long had passed outside the Dreamscape. Everything seemed hazy, and unreal ¡ª like a dream. Something had called me back early. ¡°It¡¯s been a few days, Finn,¡± Tiller said. ¡°But you were very injured. We tried spells and potions but you just kept getting worse ¡ª¡± ¡°What my apprentice is saying,¡± interrupted Telvy, ¡°is that you would be dead if not for me. I devised a brilliant formation that isolated you from all outside interference, allowing your natural healing to take effect. You¡¯ll find you have no mana, or Ancestors forbid, eldritch energy, to call on, but you should make a full recovery quite quickly.¡± I flexed my right arm, finding it to be just as strong as ever. It seemed the Archmage could be wrong. ¡°Thank you, Telvy,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ve truly done wonders.¡± ¡°As usual,¡± she preened. ¡°Now tell me, did you witness the entity? I can¡¯t imagine how any backwater godling could escape my ritual.¡± ¡°I did,¡± I sighed, ¡°Her name is Liv Swanson, and she¡¯s apparently connected to everything that has been happening. Eldritch Night, the abominations, the dungeon, the cultists, all of ¡­.¡± I paused for a moment before continuing, ¡°She killed Sebbit.¡± ¡°Wait a fuckin¡¯ minute,¡± Tiller said. ¡°Your childhood friend, grew up together, married your best friend Liv? She¡¯s the motherfucker that just killed an entire army single-handedly, and took out Sebbit, as well?¡± ¡°Does your little sister know you¡¯ve got such a mouth on you?¡± Two pairs of eyes stared at me unapologetically. ¡°Fine! Yes,¡± I said, ¡°It¡¯s her, but she¡¯s not the same. Something about founders and mantles. She ¡­ I can¡¯t, won¡¯t talk about it now, but it¡¯s fucking bad ¡­ The things she told me. I just don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°I¡¯m s¡ª¡± Tiller began. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°Catayla. Is she okay? Did you find her?¡± I leaped up from the sleek, white hospital bed but Tiller and Telvy both stopped me from leaving and guided me back to the bed. ¡°Let me go!¡± ¡°Wait, Finn,¡± said Tiller, ¡°it¡¯s okay. We found her. She¡¯s alive and already up. At first, she looked worse than you, but she recovered two days ago. She¡¯s checked on you constantly, but she was called away. She should be back tonight.¡± ¡°She¡¯s alive,¡± I fell back into the bed. ¡°She¡¯s alive. At least someone is. Everyone is dead, because of me. It¡¯s all my fault.¡± ¡°A soldier never blames herself,¡± surprisingly it was Telvy who spoke. ¡°And if she falls, she never blames the shield beside her. All soldiers die, only the unlucky few die old and fangless within piss stained beds.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t understand, this isn¡¯t self-pity ¡­¡± ¡°Captain Xern, Sebbit ¡­ was a friend. You dishonor him and those who fought beside him by taking his death unto yourself. We will find the one responsible, and I will gut her personally, and feast on her entrails.¡± The Peacekeepers were a terrifying bunch, especially the women. ¡°So, what now then?¡± I asked. ¡°You know her, she spoke to you,¡± there was no hint of a question in Telvy¡¯s voice. ¡°You must have some idea where she went, or what her plans are.¡± ¡°¡­ I do, but it¡¯s not going to be easy.¡± ¡°The best hunts,¡± said a mouth full of pointed teeth, ¡°never are.¡± Epilogue ¡°Tiller, you sure this is going to work?¡± I asked. ¡°No idea whatsoever,¡± he answered, ¡°Telvy assures me it will, but she made me work out all the calculations on my own, and she refuses to check my work. So, you know ¡­ ¡° ¡°Great,¡± I patted him on the back, ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve got it in hand. This coronation needs to go over without a hitch.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re sure you have your part under control?¡± ¡°My training wasn¡¯t finished, but I can do this much,¡± I sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not much, but it will help Charleston survive while I go do what needs to be done.¡± ¡°Fuck off, you think any of us are letting you go alone?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll probably die, you know? We¡¯ll be fighting literal gods and ¡­ worse. Much worse.¡± ¡°Look, I know you don¡¯t believe this, but I know one thing,¡± Tiller¡¯s voice got deeper and took on a cadence like his uncle¡¯s, Father Belk, when he was preaching. ¡°There is only one God, and he is a loving God. He wouldn¡¯t give us this challenge if there weren¡¯t any hope.¡± ¡°Thanks, Tiller. I appreciate the words.¡± I turned to leave, ¡°Oh, if your master stops by, can you send her to the bridge?¡± ¡°Sure ¡­ not like she ever talks to me, though. I¡¯m only her apprentice.¡± ¡°Fantastic. I¡¯ll be up there for the next several hours, but I have some errands to run before the ceremony tonight.¡± I made my way through the narrow passageways of the USS Yorktown. It was strange how what had once been my prison had become like a second home to the Charleston survivors. The old aircraft carrier was becoming a floating city that already had a fledgling economy. As I made my way towards the flight deck, I passed several of the survivors. Each gave me a polite nod, but none talked to me. The strange appearance of my arm had given life to many rumors about my connection to Eldritch Night and everything that had followed. If only they knew the truth. I wish I didn''t. I opened a hatch to a clear sky. The pillar of light still dominated the eastern horizon, but the fog had cleared enough that the natural light of the sun bathed the deck of the ship in cleansing light. I breathed in and enjoyed the heat on my face. It was a small pleasure. One I had taken for granted in the past. As I stepped onto the grey deck, a large kingfisher circled my head before perching on my shoulder. ¡°Everything set, Fisher?¡± The bird nodded before pecking at my ear. I pushed it away and it darted upwards and quickly disappeared. The bird spent most of his time scouting for enemies. It was a task I needed the survivors ready to take on sooner rather than later. Already they had several promising warriors and mages, but they were sorely unprepared to take on the worst of the threats. There wasn¡¯t a person among them who could take on a Behemoth King, or even one of the tentacled Leviathans I knew lived far below the currently still waters. Tonight, I would change that. It would give them hope and someone to rally behind. It would also give them a powerful weapon, if everything went right. ¡°Hey, Finn!¡± I heard Catayla¡¯s gruff voice. ¡°So ¡­ did you talk to Tiller?¡± ¡°He says everything will be ready. I trust him.¡± The smooth skin between her sapphire scales turned a subtle shade of purple. ¡°No ¡­ I mean about the other thing.¡± ¡°Oh, yeah. He¡¯s just waiting for you to make the first move.¡± I hadn¡¯t spoken to Tiller about it at all, but I wasn¡¯t going to play matchmaker for two grown adults. ¡°I¡¯d say go for it tonight, during the celebrations.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. She opened and closed her mouth several times before nodding and heading back to whatever other tasks she had. Catayla and Talith had their hands full training the locals to hunt. Many of them had been hunters in the world before, but hunting behemoths was a bit different than whitetail deer and turkey. I was grateful the Peacekeepers had agreed to help the survivors, even if the arrangement was temporary. It was still impossible to communicate outside the quarantine zone, and what remained of the Peacekeeper leadership was contemplating making a journey north. Apparently, there was another dungeon, and another squadron of Peacekeepers, a little outside of D.C. I made my way towards a tall tower in the middle of the deck and walked up a narrow staircase that went up the outside of the structure. Below me, I could see dozens of humans and Peacekeepers working side-by-side to clean the deck and set up defenses. It was inspiring, in a way. I felt much more predisposed towards trusting the Peacekeepers since Sebbit¡¯s death. It was hard not to blame myself. For Liv, for Sebbit, for ¡­ everything. I found Pat standing on a small balcony outside the bridge, looking out with a pair of large binoculars. I could see Worthy and Bridgette standing inside the bridge, giving orders into an outdated radio. ¡°So, Pat,¡± I said. ¡°I wasn¡¯t expecting to find you here.¡± ¡°Captain left me the Conn,¡± she said flatly. ¡°Being here is my duty.¡± ¡°Right, you know that unless Tiller works his magic this is just a floating museum, right?¡± ¡°The USS Yorktown is our home now, and it is all of our responsibility to keep it safe.¡± ¡°Calm down, calm down,¡± I held my hands up defensively. ¡°I¡¯ve been working as hard as anyone to get this place up to snuff. That¡¯s why I¡¯m here, actually.¡± ¡°The ritual?¡± she raised one eyebrow as she asked. ¡°Yeah, I still have some work to do. I¡¯ve drawn the runes around the deck, and Tiller is doing his part. Telvy is ¡­ providing spectacle.¡± ¡°Do you need us to leave?¡± ¡°No,¡± I shook my head, ¡°I just need some time to check the runes and prepare the connection to the Dreamscape.¡± ¡°This will work?¡± I turned my head side to side, ¡°I don¡¯t know. It will if they believe.¡± ¡°So why Captain Smith? Why not someone already powerful, like yourself?¡± ¡°It would never work, they don¡¯t trust me. You and Smith kept these people alive for weeks before I ever showed up. They trust you, they believe in you.¡± ¡°Anything else I can do?¡± she asked. ¡°No. Well ¡­¡± I smiled, ¡°there is one thing. Just have a little faith.¡± *** ¡°Goddamn,¡± said Captain Smith, ¡°I feel ridiculous.¡± ¡°Oh, don¡¯t fuss,¡± said Pat. She began straightening the captain¡¯s collar and epaulettes, ¡°you look fine.¡± The scene would have been comfortingly domestic if it weren¡¯t for the two curved blades strapped to Pat''s waist and the rifle on her back. Captain Smith was shaped more like a barrel than a man and the gold tasseled uniform did look a little ridiculous, a bit like dressing up a bear, but I kept my mouth shut. The sleeves were a tad short and tight on his muscular forearms, and his large belly was straining against the fabric of his jacket. ¡°You ready, Captain?¡± I asked, ¡°Or should I call you Mr. Mayor?¡± ¡°For now, just call me Arthur.¡± We shook hands and the captain walked to the closed door leading out of the bridge. He looked through the glass at the expecting crowd waiting beneath and shook his head slightly. ¡°Alright,¡± said the captain, ¡°I can barely breathe in this getup, any reason we can¡¯t get this over with now?¡± Everyone looked to me, and I gave a short nod. I crossed my legs as I sat on the floor and prepared to enter my Mindscape. ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± Captain Smith walked out to the small balcony overlooking the flight deck and addressed his people. They began to cheer, and the captain held out a hand to quiet them. I could feel their hope and faith in him. It poured into him and connected the survivors to each other. I could see this faith flowing into the Dreamscape, and I used my father''s lessons to keep it here, rather than feeding into the alien world. If all went well the faith of the Charleston survivors would grow on its own, but I didn¡¯t take any chances. I hadn¡¯t spent the last week preparing runes for nothing. I activated the ritual just as Captain Smith began his speech. Every word seemed charged with power and each of the survivors looked upward with expectant gazes. Tears glistened in unblinking eyes. I could feel the links connecting them growing, only a little more and these channels would be able to exist independent of my efforts. Their power would continue to grow the longer they lasted, and the more Captain Smith earned the faith placed in him. As the speech concluded I looked over at Worthy and nodded. He spoke a few words into a radio, and I felt the floor begin to rise into the air. I stood up and looked out the window behind me. The ground was growing further away. Familiar landmarks quickly shrunk as the aircraft carrier continued to rise, finally stopping once it was roughly a hundred feet above the ground. I could hear the quiet rumbling of the survivors as they frantically looked around. At that exact moment, the fireworks began. It might not be enough to create a god, but damn did we pull that off well. No one would forget this night, nor would they forget the legends it created. The End Book Two Chapter One: Quiet Storms I leaped from the deck of a flying aircraft carrier, the wind buffeting my face as I fell towards the roar of the Cooper river below. The sound of the rushing water was nearly drowned out by the wind and the repeated barks of gunfire from above. ¡°Fisher,¡± I yelled. In response, the abomination that had replaced my right arm began to move. Bands of black flesh burst from my shoulder and wove around my body like yarn spun by a loom. As the sinuous veins twisted and grew, I could feel them constricting around my torso and limbs. I grumbled internally and flinched in pain as the creature began to draw on my reserves of eldritch energy, but the discomfort was short lived. I had long ago grown used to the claustrophobic feel of the Fisher¡¯s shape changing. My velocity slowed and then I was tugged upward as large wings made of black flesh burst from between my shoulder blades with the sound of snapping bone and tearing flesh. I hadn¡¯t figured out true flight, yet, but I could manage a controlled glide. I steered my descent into a gentle spiral as I surveyed the remnants of Charleston ¡ª at least what little of it was still recognizable. As far as post-apocalypses go; Charleston''s had been thorough, but surprisingly green. Trees dominated the skyline, while underbrush and twisting roots covered what little masonry was still unclaimed by dirt. The events of Eldritch Night had rearranged and warped the landscape, leaving rolling hills and large, bleak cliffs to replace flat earth. The occasional church steeple, once the tallest points on the skyline, poked through earth and leaf to mark the tomb of the city buried beneath. At least it doesn¡¯t flood every time we get a light drizzle, I thought to myself. I detected a stifled laugh, but I wasn¡¯t sure if the thought had been my own. I shook my head, banishing the introspection as I reminded myself that I had a mission. In the same moment, a sense of danger filled my mind and I rolled my wings forward and tucked my arms to my side to drop into a dive. A large bat-like creature fell through the space I had just occupied. A short, fletched spear had been lodged in its chest and the beast was spinning uncontrollably. Its limbs and leathery wings beat frantically but it was unable to gain control of its flight. I could still feel the chaotic energy that flowed through its veins as evidence it still clung to life, though I doubted it would survive the landing. I could finish it, easily. With a thought, I could devour the energy that served as its life force. I could feel the eldritch energy that was bound to every cell of its being and see it leaking from the creature¡¯s wound like a black mist lit with hot red embers. For a moment, I began to chase after it like a greyhound after a mechanical rabbit. No. It was too small, inconsequential. I had better things to occupy my time, but I knew I would have to do something soon, or the urges would only grow stronger. Life was too easy among the survivors ¡ª too boring and predictable. Even the daily attacks did little to alleviate the building pressure. I felt ¡­ riled. A small voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I was meant for more. It told me I couldn¡¯t stay idle forever. There was blood to be spilled, sweet revenge to drink up. The voice was becoming stronger, more insistent, but I would ignore it for as long as I could. I turned my attention to the battle above me where thousands of the creatures were attacking the Yorktown. The old WWII aircraft carrier had long ago been decommissioned and turned into a floating museum, but with a combination of human ingenuity, magic, and good old-fashioned alien technology, we had managed to get her flying ¡ª or, at least motionlessly hovering a few hundred feet higher than gravity wanted her to. The Charleston survivors fought alongside a small number of Peacekeepers, basically giant, scaly alien super soldiers, to hold back the flying creatures. For the first few weeks after we had gotten the Yorktown flying, we had thought we were safe from the worst of the dangers our new world had brought with it. We¡¯d been wrong. Beasts had torn down the lines we used to reach the surface, forcing us to begin retracting our netting each night ¡ª effectively stranding overnight anyone left on the surface. Other beasts were capable of bombarding the Yorktown with stones or glowing spheres of pure mana. The worst were the flyers, some were as large as tanks and others carried tiny riders that would fall onto our decks to kill and raise mayhem before they were put down. Each night seemed to bring with it new dangers. The crew and inhabitants of the Yorktown grew strong, as I grew frustrated by how long their progress took. The best of these burgeoning warriors were sent out on raiding parties, mostly for supplies but also as a form of training and tempering. The Peacekeepers refused to participate, keeping their own counsel in the usual, infuriating way. I could have probably ended the battle within moments. These bat-like creatures seem fragile, even if they were fast and numerous. A few well-placed spells ¡ª but no, the inhabitants of the Yorktown would have to fend for themselves this time. I wouldn¡¯t always be there to protect them, and any kill I made was valuable XP robbed from someone that needed it more. I¡¯d reached level twenty-five weeks ago, and since then I¡¯d found it impossible to gain XP or levels. I¡¯d contented myself with increasing [Skills] and exploring the eldritch side of my powers, but the lack of growth was still something I would need to fix. And soon.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I would consider tonight to be a test. If the survivors could hold off the attack without me, and without losing anyone, then, and only then, would I consider them capable of surviving on their own. The Peacekeepers could leave at any moment, and I ¡­ I had business elsewhere. I forced the memories of Liv out of my mind through sheer force of will. I had found it increasingly difficult to separate memory from reality, especially since my bond with the Fisher had grown more ¡­ corporeal. I could feel its tendrils working their way into my mind as our thoughts and personalities began to merge into one. Even my body was not wholly my own. I sighed as I looked towards the north, scanning for the raiding party that had been due back hours ago. Worthy and Bridgette, two of the strongest hunters among the survivors, were with the group and they¡¯d managed to send up a pair of signal flares a few minutes before the attack, so I didn¡¯t worry too much about their safety. I was more concerned with something I¡¯d requested before they¡¯d left. Something I needed ¡­ or at least something I desired very badly. I straightened the angle of my descent, aiming for a narrow dirt path used by the scouts and hunters. The small dirt road headed northwest over what had once been the heart of downtown and had been carved by constant use and a not small amount of terramancy from our resident archmage. It was just wide enough for a single jeep or pickup to navigate, if you were careful. Worthy¡¯s team of scouts had taken one of the vehicles we¡¯d managed to get running and kept stored in a makeshift garage dug into the side of a cliff that was directly across the shore from the Yorktown. I¡¯d seen the group off personally. My request had been something I wasn¡¯t comfortable handling through messengers. I was less than a hundred feet from the ground, by that point. Such elevation was risky, as it was beneath even the canopies of some of the larger trees. It was made even more difficult to navigate by the unpredictable gusts of wind coming in from the west. I¡¯d have to touchdown soon; the trail was my target and following it was the best bet to find the scouts in a timely manner. Rather than the graceless landings I¡¯d made when first experimenting with my new-found shapeshifting, this time a quad of thick tentacles shot forward from my torso to brace against the earth like thick springs and wrapping around the base of tree trunks. They slowed my descent and set me down gently, before curling back up around my torso. I imagine my silhouette in the moments before I landed would have looked like that of a giant and demonic daddy long leg. I immediately leaped forward, using my new limbs to push against the earth and pull me over fallen trees and rock. I may not have been able to outrun a jeep, but I made much better time as I never had to stop to clear the road or slow down around narrow corners. I could feel eyes on me, watching from the forest. My forehead itched as some part of me called out to open a different kind of Eye. I could show all the watchers, all the silent observers who hid from the light, the truth of what they were. What we all were. I suppressed the urge, though grudgingly, as I continued north. I couldn¡¯t waste time. Worthy¡¯s group had sent up two flares, which meant immediate danger and a request for aid. Three would have meant, ¡°don¡¯t bother.¡± I ran, or perhaps it¡¯s better to say galloped, as quickly as I could down the narrow path. It didn¡¯t take long before I began to hear gunshots and the sounds of yelling. Amid the human shouts and the usual drone of battle, there was something else ¡ª a sort of hum. It was like the sound a rattlesnake makes, but much louder and it sounded as if dozens, perhaps hundreds, of them were shaking in concert. I was close enough that my other-than-natural senses could make out the vague outline of human forms highlighted in the blue glow of mana and the dark reds and black of the eldritch corruption, but they seemed to be fighting mist. The eldritch energy was like a cloud of black, shimmering satin that clung to them. It seemed to move unnaturally as if it were being controlled or attracted and repulsed by some unseen force. The scouts were shooting into the air frantically but didn¡¯t appear to be aiming at anything in particular. I left the path, quickly cutting through the trees and over the hill that had been between me and the battle. The powerful limbs I had conjured pulled me around and over rocks while smashing through undergrowth and any small obstacles in my path. It was not a stealthy approach, but it didn¡¯t matter. That dark consciousness that was growing in the back of my mind scented battle, and I responded. As I broke through the tree line into a small clearing, I saw a small jeep that had been overturned, its tires twisted with bits of shattered glass and twisted metal littering the area around it. Someone had released a smoke grenade, or perhaps used a [Skill] or magic to the same effect, but I was able to make out a group of six men and women despite the opaque wall of white smoke. I immediately conjured a dome of black and red energy around the group as I charged forward on six legs. As I grew closer, I kicked away the jeep with a powerful, spinning kick from two of my conjured limbs. I was still unsure of what they were fighting, but I needed a better view. Whatever it was had the group of scouts panicked to the point they had yet to notice my arrival. ¡°Worthy!¡± I yelled. I saw a mohawked head turn towards me in confusion. Just as Worthy¡¯s eyes widened in shock, he began to yell something I couldn¡¯t make out. Did he change his hair color again? When did one find time to ¡­ Before the thought could finish, I screamed in pain as something hot pierced the skin on the back of my neck. I immediately swatted and felt a crunch as warm sludge filled the spaces between my fingers. ¡°What the?¡± As I pulled the hand in front of my eyes, I saw something similar to a wasp ¡ª if wasps had been the size of mice and covered in spikes as long as my thumb. The insect was bright red and was covered in a black, oily substance that leaked from the cracks I had created when crushing it in my hand. Dozens of the creatures dove at me in the moment I was distracted, seemingly coming from nowhere as if they were born from the smoke and early morning light. I couldn¡¯t detect them with my ability to see mana, nor could I pick out individual insects with my ability to sense eldritch corruption. Instead, the eldritch energy that filled the area seemed to move as a single unit ¡ª like a constantly flowing sheet covering the entire field. New stingers found my exposed flesh but were immediately turned as I instinctively activated my Arcane Shield [Skill]. The stings were constantly depleting my mana, but I was regenerating it fast enough that I could likely keep this up for at least a few more minutes before I needed to worry. At least, that¡¯s what I thought until the dive-bombing insects began to explode. A dozen flashes blinded me as a shockwave launched me across the field and into the base of a tree. Its branches rattled as I was covered in fallen leaves and splinters of wood. I picked my self up, using the tree as support. As I turned my eyes back towards the misty field full of buzzing and flashing lights, I smiled. It was, perhaps, the first true joy I had felt in weeks.