Chapter Text
Your eyes open, and you’re greeted with… nothing. The landscape you’ve arrived in is completely barren. Hills like dead elephants paint your immediate surroundings, with a few mountain ranges just peaking over them off in the distance. The ground here is hard, and covered in dark, shriveled grass. You notice a dark grey path beneath your feet, leading up to a fort about thirty yards off to your right.
“We’re here!” Gretel exclaims, jumping up and down while still holding your hand. You release the girl, allowing her to scamper about in excitement. She inevitably hurries back to you after lapping the group a few times, scurrying up to her usual perch on your shoulders. “It’s so good to be home!”
Looking up at her, you see that wide Gecko smile of hers as she beholds the settlement, the excitement in her eyes palpable. Seems she’s just about bursting at the seams to return. You smile, happy to see her so excited. The moment quickly passes, however, as a feeling soon creeps up on you. It’s hard to describe it exactly, but seeing Gretel so happy to be here reminds you of something that you’ve more than likely been ignoring up until now. The fact that a Consort’s Land is where they belong. Their true home. Pretty soon, you’re not going to be in the Arena, hopefully because your plan succeeds, but regardless, that eventuality is getting closer and closer by the second. Say you do succeed. What then? Would you take Gretel with you? Would it be right to take her away from a place where she belongs? You love her, and you’re sure she loves you too, but maybe… maybe that’s only because you’ve interjected yourself into her life… You said it before, she’s brilliant, but she’s still a consort. A facet of reality meant to facilitate players like you so they can better coordinate the propagation of another universe. They’re helpers. Who’s to say she isn’t genetically predisposed to bend to your expectations of her? She could’ve subconsciously picked up on your paternal feelings towards her, and started acting more daughter-like towards you as a result. You yourself were genetically designed to fulfill a role, why wouldn’t she be as well?
S o m e t h i n g i s w r o n g . W h y d o e s y o u r h e a d h u r t ?
W h y i s i t G o n e ?
“Uh, Jason?” Dallra calls to you, yet again breaking you out of another deep mental tangent. You’ve been losing yourself in thought rather often lately. You aren’t sure if you should be concerned about that or not.
“Yeah?” You ask, looking over at her. The two of you stare at one another for a brief moment. Realizing that you’re waiting for her to continue, she eventually raises her forearm up for you to see, showing you that you’re still gripping her hand. “Oh! Sorry.” You quickly let her go, trying to hide the redness in your face. She warmly chuckles at your embarrassment.
“Geez, what a shit hole…” Haugrr mutters to Ryder under his breath, causing him to quietly snicker.
“Stow it.” You order, shooting both of them a dirty look. “We’ve still got a lot of ground between us and the Mage.”
“We’re not… going into town first?” Gretel bashfully asks, peering over your shoulder.
“A-, wh-…” You’re at a loss for what to say. Somehow it never occurred to you that Gretel would actually want to stop by her town while you were in the neighborhood. Probably because you’re a dumbass. You want to tell her that you’re on a schedule, and there’s just no time for a pit stop so soon after your last break. You want to say that, but she’s currently giving you the puppy-dog-lizard eyes. “O-of course we are!” You assure her. “We’re not just going to come here and not visit.”
“Whaat?” Haugrr groans in unsurprised disappointment.
“We’re stopping?” Sara perks up, hoping to get another rest in.
“N-no, we’ve still… gotta search the town!” You make up off the cuff, trying not to seem like you aren’t taking your own schedule seriously. You totally aren’t, but you can’t have all these schmucks not taking it seriously either, this is just a one time this for your daughter.
“Search it for what?” Frank asks with a tilt of his head.
“Information.” You bluff. “This place apparently has a lot of secrets squirreled away. All types of potentially precious info that could be important to the mission.”
“This is musclebeast shit.” Haugrr scoffs, taking the gravel path towards the village. At least he’s following directions, regardless of how bitter he’s being about it.
“Information is important, I suppose.” Esspin sighs, following after him with the rest of the group.
“What the fuck do consorts know anyways?” Ryder bores rather ignorantly. Shot in the dark, but that mindset probably has something to do with how he ended up in the Arena. You hurry after them, Dallra and Gretel by your side.
“You sure about this?” Dallra asks you, clearly understanding the nature of this pitstop.
“Yeah, I know, not the best use of time, but… what’s the harm?” You ask back. “We were looking at a week-long journey just to get planet-side. As far as I’m concerned, we’re already waay ahead of schedule. One leisurely stop isn’t gonna make or break our mission.”
“Hm.” Dallra purses her lips, as if to say it’s not her place to disagree. You try not to let it get to you. “So long as you’re sure.”
As your group approaches the giant wooden walls of the town, you’re stopped by the sudden appearance of several heavily armed Consorts. Around six grey Geckos wielding disproportionately large spears appear at the front of the gate, with four more appearing in the lookout roosts with bows aimed your way, arrows already notched and pulled back. They’re all wearing armor or sorts, with a main focus on covering their faces and upper bodies. From metal helmets and face masks to clavicle guards and half-plates, these are some decked-out lizards! The metal their armor is made from, however, appears very crude, with heavy scuff marks up around the edges and dents all about the place.
“Halt!” The one with the roughest looking set of armor shouts to you. “What’s your business here?” He sounds rather gruff for a Consort. Guess he’s the chief of this little outfit.
“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Gretel announces, running to the front of the group and holding her hands out. “They’re with me! They just want to stop in town for a brief while!”
“Wait a tick... Cap, I know this one.” The one to the left of the leader announces.
“Private?” The leader glances back at him.
“Sir, I believe this is the one who left the village some weeks ago.” He elaborates.
“Is that so?” The leader looks back, slowly lowering his defenses as Gretel approaches. “Horrors haven’t made a meal out of you yet, eh wonder child?”
“No sir.” She proudly declares.
“Good.” He knocks the end of his spear against the ground, emphasizing his statement. “That much closer to the bastards starving, then. Now, about this riffraff you’ve brought with you.”
“They won’t stay long, sir.” She explains. “They’re meeting a friend a few towns away, and were hoping to stop here for a little while before making the journey.”
“Hmm.” The leader pauses, thinking over whether to let you in or not. “Well, a friend of a villager is a friend of the village, I suppose. Tell your lot to come in, ‘for their scent attracts any Horrors nearby.” With his say so, the other guards disengage, walking back to their post just inside of the gates. Gretel turns back to wave you in.
“Alright, everyone,” You turn to the group before they can move. “We aren’t gonna be here long, so try to get as much info as you can before we leave.”
“What are we looking for?” Creed asks, completely blindsiding you with the simplest of questions.
“Yeah, what are we looking for, Jason?” Haugrr piles on.
“Uh, well…” You ponder in front of everyone. “Anything you think is important. Places we should be cautious of in the Land, any possible short cuts, players who might’ve passed through town recently. This place is messing with Dallra’s vision, so we might not be able to rely on it if things go sideways. We need information that could help us get our footing in this place.” You think that’s a reasonable enough explanation.
“And how are we even supposed to find this information that so fucking important to the mission.” Haugrr continues to pester.
“I don’t know, skim an important looking book, talk to some geckos or something.” You begin walking to catch up with Gretel before any more questions can be asked, firmly dodge your douchebag teammate’s malicious attempt to undermine your decision as a leader. “Turn a stone or two over, how else are you supposed to uncover secrets? This place is chocked full of them. Start poking around, you’re bound to find something! Fan out and meet back here in two hours!”
By the time you had finished talking, you’d gotten so far away you had to yell for them to hear you. You can tell Haugrr’s still trying to protest, but you’re long gone by then. Turning your attention away from the group, you find that you’ve lost track of Gretel. Uh oh… how the hell’d you manage that? Sure, every villager here has an uncanny resemblance to her, but she’s got a backpack on, for christ’s sake! A discernible piece of clothing. You quickly scurry about the town, looking for where she might’ve gone, but she’s vanished without a trace. Oh god, this could be bad. How could you lose your own kid? Quick! Be someone else to avoid embarrassing yourself any further.
***
Your entire weight slams forward as the ship arrives at dock, throwing you spiraling into a spare hammock. Haddock appears at the top of the stairs just as you manage to untangle yourself from the damn piece of fabric.
“We be at port, lass!” He bellows with joy to you. “Join me top side, fer’ the thick of the storm catches our tail!” Hurrying after him, you’re nearly blown off your feet again, leaving the safety of belowdeck. You’re far enough from the storm to be out of the rain, but the wind’s really picking up for some reason. You grab a support beam to support yourself, fulfilling said beam’s purpose for being created in the first place. Looking up, you notice that the pyramid is much larger than you’d originally thought when looking at it from off in the distance, needing to angle your head back to see the very top of it. It’s surprising how something this big could be build on an island as small as the one you’re on, isolated out in the middle of the ocean.
“Wow…” You mutter to yourself.
“Quit yer’ gawkin’ n’ start a walkin’ lass.” Haddock orders, making his way over to the plank leading off the boat. You quickly follow, trailing just behind him, hunching slightly to hear him over the wind. Stepping off the ship, you awkwardly stumble about, too accustomed to the thrashing of the sea that solid land is throwing off your equilibrium. Haddock, on the other hand, walks with the swagger only a captain could have. The rest of the crew frantically tie the ship down and unload cargo, preparing for the storm to hit. Looking around the area, you notice there’s another ship docked on the east side of the island. Their flag has the silhouette of an entire mongoose printed on it, as opposed to just the teeth on your ship’s flag.
“Who’re they?” You ask Haddock.
“Nother crew.” He grunts, not looking back. “We’d a kick em outta dock, normally, but the bellyachers said they needed to stop fer repairs. They’ll be on their way soon enough, iffin' they know what’s best fer ‘em.” You nod, keeping an eye on the rival crew. As you peer at them, you notice a majority of their workers have stopped to watch two furry boys fiddle with something wrapped in cloth. There’s a ceremonial feeling to their stillness as the storm rages in the background of their gathering. The Mongoose who appears to be the captain of the crew has his hat off, held against his chest.
“What are they doing?” You inquire, trying to make out the shiny trinket they’ve begun to tuck into the cloth.
“Burial.” Haddock solemnly answers, still not looking back.
“Burial?”
“Dead sailor, swept up by the storm. Drowned, likely.” There’s a sort of rasp in his voice, making it clear that he understands what it’s like to lose a crewman. “Seems they fished out his body, and are plannin’ on a burial.”
“Why are they doing it now?” He glances back at you, as if you said something stupid. “I mean, aren’t they gonna be rushed to dig with the storm coming?”
“What are ye, some sort of scale-scrubber?” He sneers with a grumpy grizzledness. “Don’t put our dead in da dirt, round here. Nothin’ mer disgraceful than a sailor becoming worm food.”
“Then… what do you do?” You inquire, a tad bit hesitant.
“Sailor comes from the sea, fittin’ they return to the sea.” He grunts, looking forward again. “They’ll take him out on the water, wrap one’a his prized treasures in his bindings, and cast him into the depths.”
“Why with their treasure?” Haddock’s irritated aura seems to mellow as your questions continue, seeing you’ve got a genuine curiosity about his culture and not just landlubber ignorance. “I thought you guys were pirates, wouldn't you plunder their hoard or something?”
“We do, but as the living are entitled to all they may take, the dead are entitled to their sentimentalities. Only their most coveted treasure is sent with them, to a place no scalawag could make claim.” He explains, taking a glance at the rival crew as they load the body aboard.
“Keep is clean, sir.” One of the furry boys reports to Haddock as the two of you reach the entrance of the pyramid. “No vagabonds or squatters inside.”
“Good, good.” Haddock smiles, happily scratching his chin with a gleeful joy. “Nothing like a secure stronghold for a warm welcome. Tell the boys to finish quick and head inside. I’ll be in me quarters.”
“Aye aye, capitan.” He salutes before scurrying off.
“Come, lass.” Haddock calls for you. “I’ll show you where to hang coat.” You do what you’ve been doing for the past several hours and follow Haddock’s instructions, following the small captain down the dark corridors, lit only by the occasional torch sconce.
“It’s a little cramped in here, isn’t it?” You vocalize, noticing how low the ceilings are, just a foot or so above your head.
“Tis, iffin' yer a giant like yerself.” Haddock points out the size difference between you. That’s fair, you suppose. Not like this place was designed for you. After countless turns in this labyrinth, the two of you eventually find your way to a small room, with only a bed and a desk inside. “Alright, here ye are, lass. Make yerself comfortable, we’ll be bunkerin’ down fer a spell n’ a half by the look-a-things.”
“Hm… cozy.” You mumble, looking over the room.
“Someone’ll come fer ya when storm breaks.” Haddock informs you, turning back to head down the hall while working out a knot from his shoulder. “And laboratories are down the corridor and te the left.” He adds on, closing the door with the back of his heel.
Now alone, and on solid ground, you allow yourself to relax, lying down on the bed. You haven’t had a chance to rest since… since you were back on LOSAD. Even then, you didn’t really get a full night’s sleep. It’s hard to remember why, though. You were talking to Jason and then… your head started to hurt, and it felt like you were burning up. Just thinking about it now has your head thumping, like your brain is trying to break its way out of your skullbone. Maybe you’re just anxious about how you left everyone back on LOFAC. Huh, that whole fiasco seemed to have slipped your mind somehow. It was so stupid of you to run off like that! What the hell were you even thinking? Why didn’t you stay to fight, instead of absconding like a chicken? That isn’t like you!… at least, it shouldn’t be… There was a time when you wouldn’t have run, wasn’t there? Guess those times have passed, now. If they even existed at all. You can’t remember. And now you’re in over your head with this mess, no idea how to get back to the others, and no one to help you but a crew of furry sailors. You miss the group. Hopefully everyone’s safe, or doing alright at least. Maybe… maybe if you fall asleep… maybe when you wake up, everything’ll be okay again. You think you’ll do that. This pillow is a bit firm though. You’ll have to make due.
***
It’s cold where you are. You don’t know where it is you’ve ended up, but you know that it’s cold. You try to open your eyes, but they won’t budge. Glued in place by some instinctual failsafe to keep you from realizing yourself beyond the subconscious. That same instinct has deemed wherever you are too horrific for your fragile mind to behold. That, or just sleep paralysis. Who knows? Certainly not you, you can’t even open your eyes to see what’s happening. You do, however, hear something. There’s a quiet whispering coming from off in the distance. It’s faint, but just clear enough for you to her what they’re saying.
“Take it back…” It hisses with a vile hatred lining its voice. It… sounds familiar. You’ve heard this voice before. But where? Who even are you right now?
“H-hello?” You manage to ask through jittering teeth.
“Take… it… back!” It continues to wraith, slowly growing louder and louder. As the voice seems to approach, the immediate area chills, feeling like frostbite forming on your skin. Wait, who’s skin? Who the hell are you?
“W-w-w-w-what-t-t is-s ha-ha-ha-happening.” You stammer, slowly losing control of your body to the dropping temperatures. But wait, do you even have a body? You can’t feel anything. There is no flesh, there are no bones. You exist a vague amalgamation of stardust and empty space. A form once solid and self-assured, now pulled apart, its foundation debunked. Reality and all others that sought to make claim on your being has rebuked you till you’ve been rendered nothing but dust in the breeze, a simple afterthought lost in the vast ocean of the universe. Out from the void beyond your sense, you’re grabbed at where your head used to be, by a hand gripping the particles that might once have been your hair.
“Take! IT! BACK!“ Its breath pours onto your face, colder than the vacuous clutches of the dark between unmade stars. It pierces past the space that was your eyes, into the space that is your mind, halting the cerebral jitters in their arcs and compressing the dust there into machines of proper thought. And they ask one thing;
“Who Am I?”
***
A very sudden, and very loud -slam- rouses you from your sleep. Being thrown out from the somber grips of the unconscious world, it takes a moment for you to remember who you are. You’re Mia, and… you’re in a pirate stronghold right now. A kind Captain had given you safe shelter after hitting you on the head with his treasure chest. You’d fallen asleep after taking a moment to rest, overcome by the exhaustion of the past few days.
Looking around the room, you find that the torch illuminating the chamber has gone out, with the only light in the room coming from outside the hallway, through the now open door of the room. Didn’t Haddock shut that when he left?
You cautiously rise from the bed, waiting for something else to happen. When nothing does, you quickly move across the room to the threshold, quietly closing the door and lingering before it, thinking about what could’ve moved the oaken-slab to begin with. Did a gust of wind blow it open? That would explain why the torch is out, but you’re a little too deep in the pyramid for the wind to reach here, aren’t you? Maybe one of the crew came to check on you and forgot to close it.
“You.” Someone says from behind. You whip around, lightly pressing your back against the door to scan the room. It’s dark, but you see the outline of someone sitting in the chair by the dest.
“W-w-who are you?!” You manage to say, finding it difficult to speak over the thrashing in your chest. To answer your question, out from the dark descends five thin wires, glowing a dark pink and revealing the intruder. Sitting before you, soaked to the bone, is the Thief of Heart. The one who… who… Before you can remember, you’re already halfway turned around, hand on the door handle. Whatever hope you had of absconding from this rival-player is dashed by the feeling of her wires wrapping around your throat.
“Ah, ah, ah.” She tisks, pulling her finger back and reeling you away from your escape. “Behave yourself and mayb-“
“H-help!” You call out before she can finish her threat. “Hel-“
“Keep your voice down!” She growls, tighten the wires around your throat as the hue of the threads beginning to darken to a tint of purple. “Anyone through or out that door loses their head. So be a good little human, and Sit. Down.” With a painful jerk, you’re flung away from the door, spinning towards the center of the room to face the bed again. On the bright side, if there is any in this situation, the wires she had around your neck let go. They retract back to her and hang idly by her side as she watches to see what you’ll do.
Feeling the sudden pressure of not only yours, but all the lives of those in this pyramid, you slowly creep towards the bed, scared if she’ll attack you again. As you reach the other side of the room, you look back to the Thief to see if she’s grown agitated. She simply sits there, leaned back in her chair, quietly glaring at you. Seeing no other option to take, you sit back down on the bed and look to the Thief, waiting for more instructions. She doesn’t say anything, just stares, still as a statue. The only sound in the room comes from the tapping of water droplets as they fall off of her. She must’ve been out in the storm recently.
“W-what are you going to do?” You can’t help the tremble in your voice as you start to remember your last interaction with her, what she did to you.
“Relax, you wriggler.” She sneers, finally breaking her silence. “If I wanted you dead, you never would’ve woken up.”
“…Why are you here?” You ask, feeling somewhat assured knowing she’s not immediately going to kill you. Her eyes narrow, completely shattering the momentary bout of safety you felt. After a moment, she breaks her gaze from you, looking down to her wires as she wags them back and forth, letting her hand hang idly as she rests her elbow on the desk behind her.
“You fed me something fowl.” Her eyes dart back to you. “And I can’t get the taste out of my mouth.”
“What?” You squeak.
“Tf, pan-rusted wench.” She mutters to herself, sounding disgusted. “The emotions I took from you, you nit. Like taking a bite out of pure ash.”
“Uh… s-sorry!” You tell her, finally understanding what she’s getting at. You didn’t think you had such a bad taste. How do you even fix something like that? Is that something you can even change? While you’re busy thinking of ways you could avoid this in the future, the Thief gives you a confused, yet still slightly annoyed glare. Guess that response wasn’t what she was looking for, but you can’t think of any other reason she’d come all this way to find you other than for an apology. “Ah! I mean, I’m not… sorry?” She rolls her eyes, seeing you’re now taking shots in the dark.
“I’m giving it back, you fucking moron.” She clarifies. You would be happy, if you weren’t, like, 100% sure this was some sort of trick.
“…Why?” You hesitantly ask, prompting the Thief to shoot up from where she’s sat, pushing the chair over with a sharp crash and causing you to jump.
“Why? WHY?!” She starts to shout, causing you to recoil back. “Because your emotions are a fucking disease, is why! They’re like a parasite, latched onto my insides and refusing to get out no matter how hard I pull…!” Her fists clench and begin to tremble. There’s a vague familiarity to the feeling she’s emanating. Like a half-forgotten thought out of a far-flung dream. “So you…” She’s speaking through gritted teeth. “are going… to take. It. BACK!” The entire room is engulfed with a purple glow as her wires ignite with a violet flame. “Ah! Gah, fuck!” She exclaims, seeing her wires combust without warning. Judging by how she painfully shakes her hand trying to put them out, it seems turning her construct-thingies into kindling wasn’t intentional.
“A-are you alright?” You ask her, instinctively getting up from the bed to approach. You quickly back off, however, seeing the death-glare she’s shooting you as she clutches her hand. Is she growling at you?
“Like a parasite,” She repeats, sounding begrudgingly calmer as she’s reminded of what happens if she gets overheated. “these… I hesitate to even call them emotions, more like primal impulses, they’re a constant drain on my system. It’s exhausting being this ffffffucking ANGry all the time! Not to mention your… ♠inclinations♠ towards that fucking Page.”
“Jason?” You’re a little lost on what she’s implying.
“Hm.” She dismissively grunts. Is… is she blushing? It’s hard to tell with how dim the room is, but her face seems noticeably darker blue than it just was.
“W-well if it’s so much of a burden, why did you bother keeping it until now?” There’s a faint bit of snark riding your voice. And who can blame you? She basically just said your emotional caliber was a constant nuisance. It’s not like you asked her to take them or something, why the hell is she complaining about it to you?! …Huh. It felt like your temper was rising just then. It feels… natural. “Why not just dump my emotions as soon as you were too good for them?”
“Tff.” She scoff at your rising confidence. “Believe me, you miserable wretch, if I could’ve saved myself the trip here, I would’ve. I told you, it’s latched onto my insides. I’ve tried to dispel it countless times, to rip it out of myself kicking and screaming, but every time I pull, it practically sears my soul, only to burrow deeper within my resonancekeep once I give up. This pestilence has practically been intertwined with my own essence at this point!”
“How do you expect to return it, then?” You half expected the question to anger her, but she stays relatively calm.
“I figure… if it’s got somewhere familiar to burrow into, there’s a chance it’ll let its claws out of me and crawl back to you.” She explains her logic.
“O-okay.” You say, swallowing the nervousness building up within you. “What do we do?”
“Hmm…” She grumbles to herself a moment, quickly tapping her foot as she thinks. “I’m not sure. Giving things back is kinda new to me.”
“Maybe if you just… do what you did, but in reverse?” You suggest, a little out of your depths. It’s hard to even remember how you used your own power, let alone guessing how other people’s powers work. “That could work, right? Like, that makes sense?” She finds pause while looking at you, seemingly trying to decide whether to insult you or not.
“Sure.” She says with a huff. “Can’t hurt to try. Not me, at least.”
“What?”
“Alright, let’s get started.” Before you can protest, she’s already in front of you, her open palm hovering before your chest.
“W-wait.” You stutter, backing up slightly. Instinctually, you bring a hand up to try and keep her away. Not that you could physically stop her, but she seems to back off anyway.
“Ugh.” She moans, rolling her eyes.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Hearing your concerns, the Thief narrows her eyes at you, like she can’t believe what you’re asking. “A-after you do this, I don’t know what’s going to happen, so how do I know you won’t try and steal my soul, o-o-or something?”
“Please.” She derides, almost laughing. “Like I’d ever want your infernal soul. I’ve had enough of that particular brand of fuckery, thank you.”
“Oh. O-okay…” You guess that was a little conceited of you. Your soul probably isn’t worth that much, anyways…
“Let’s do this then.” She orders, taking another step towards you.
“R-right.” You mumble, feeling a slight tremble in your legs.
Hovering her hand above your chest, the Thief let the air in her lungs slowly escape as she carefully lowers an open palm directly over your heart. Taking a sharp breath through her nose, you feel something unhinge, like a lock inside you has been pried opened. With whatever prep she needed now taken care of, the Thief pulls her hand away from you, taking a half step back. Despite the distance, you still feel a connection with her.
“We’re in uncharted waters now.” The Thief informs you. “So I advise you grit you teeth.”
With another breath, the Thief begins to tense up. It starts with her shoulder, suddenly lurching down like it’s trying to dislocate itself. You can see her teeth grinding as she does her best to withstand the pain. If this is what it’s doing to her… what is it going to do to you…? The trembling in your legs starts to get harder to manage. She begins to writhe, nearly folding in on herself by the time whatever this thing inside of her is reaches her arm. The muscles in her bicep start to flex, exuding an indisputable power within them. The mass in her forearm expands beyond what should physically be possible and by the time the veins along her arm start to unnaturally bulge from her flesh, she’s begun to quietly whimper. This power finally settles in the palm of her casting hand, causing her fingers to shake and curl inward. With her free hand, she reaches over, grabbing hold of her digits and prying them open, wincing as she does. With her hand kept unfurled, a small purple flame sparks from behind the webbing of her fingers. At the same time, the room begins to grow warmer.
With her palm seemingly cemented open, the Thief moves her spare hand to clutch her arm, holding it just below her elbow. Her eyes squint and cringe with pain as the flame grows bigger, extending out into the space between the two of you. The room’s starting to get uncomfortably hot now, feeling more like a sauna than the cool stone crypt it was just a moment ago. The trembling that was previously housed in your legs has worked its way up and around your whole body. It’s hard to keep your fear in check when the room is practically flooding with its presence. However, the fear is nothing compared to what comes next. It isn’t until the flame reaches the tip of the Thief’s fingers and enters your connection with her that you feel it, an inferno of pure hellfire erupts into you, piercing clean through you chest, like you’ve been harpooned by a ray divine and solar fury. The brief half-moment of shock on impact is quickly overcome by the Burning sensation that engulfs you. Your entire being, your entire world, everything the ever was and ever will be. It is all consumed by nothing but Fire. Your skin begins to bubble and blister as the tidal wave of heat blankets over you, penetrating deep down, cooking your muscle and scorching your bone.
“Stop! Stop!” You shriek, not even able to hear your own voice. You’d beg more, but you can’t seem to bring air into your body, either unable to physically lift your chest from the excruciating agony or for the fact that the air burns away as soon as it fills your lungs. You-, you-, y-you’ve got to get away. I-i-i-it doesn’t matter where, just away from here and this torment! You hold your arms out in a pointless attempt to shield yourself as you try to flee.
“Don’t even dream of it!” The Thief roars, shooting out her wires and anchoring them firmly in your chest. “You think I’d let you get away now?! Your sickness isn’t going back in me ever again! So take It BACK!”
With no chance of escape, all you can do is let the tears stream down your face as you helplessly weep, silently mouthing the words ‘Stop’ and ’Please’ to the uncaring Thief. Your eyes shrivel, your toes curl, the palms of your hands are carved open with your gripping nails, leaving your blood to pour to the floor like forsaken sacrament. A stillness comes over your body, as the torturous scorch breaching the interior of your skull, boiling your brain and evaporating any thoughts you had left. It’s too much… Darkness begins to enter into the sides of your vision, and you fall to your knees. This is it. This is death. You’ve felt this sensation once before. When you first ascended. When you first died.
***
You sit down with a huff. It’s official. You’ve lost your daughter. If your dad could see you now… he would probably slap you on the back and say ‘eh, it happens’. You can’t remember how many times that man lost you at the mall. On the bright side, if there’s one place you would’ve wanted to lose her, it would be in her own hometown. You watch idly as the geckos walk about their daily lives, keeping an eye out for any with a backpack on. Seems she’s tucked tail completely, as you haven’t spotted a single satchel on one of these guys.
Right now, you’re sitting on a crate, squared away under a small stone awning of a mason’s house, boredly kicking your legs back and forth. There seems to be a lot of places in town that shield the streets from the sky, you've noticed. Between that and the high security at the entrance of town, maybe attacks are rather common for this place. Dallra mentioned something about flying monstrosities, so maybe the public architecture doubles as impromptu shelters for those caught outside during an attack. Or maybe this house just had an awkward extension added onto it, who the hell knows! Certainly not You! God, you’re getting tired of these random bits of insight showing up in your brain out of nowhere!
“Looking for secrets, huh?” You hear as someone sits by your side. You glance over to see Dallra next to you, resting the side of her jaw on the knuckles of her bio-hand. She smiles exaggeratingly wide as soon as you notice her, showing off her gold toothy grin. Speak of the Devil… er, Troll.
“Ah-“ You begin to try and think of an excuse as to why you’re sitting on your ass after sending everyone on a fool’s errand, but for whatever reason, you lose all traction. “…yeah, I know.”
“So you waylaid plans you adamantly told us were time sensitive to… watch consort traffic?” She says leaning back against the house you’re both sat against, crossing her arms to intensely watch the geckos with you in a playfully sarcastic manner.
“The plan is time sensitive,” You try to reassure her. “but… this is her hometown.”
“The consort you’ve been looking after?” She cocks her head to gawk at you.
“Right. I figure we’re ahead of schedule by a good week, and we owe that to her, so…” You shrug, trying to find the words. “We could stop for an hour or two. Besides, I can’t say no to that face of hers.”
“You’re a good guardian.” Dallra lightly pats you on the head with her robo-arm.
“Thanks.” You passively accept the patronizing gesture.
“So where is she, anyways?” She glances around the square you’re in front of, looking for Gretel.
“She ran off ahead without telling me where she was going.” You admit, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.
“Hm.” Dallra leans back again, seemingly reevaluating her ‘good guardian’ declaration. “Well I’m sure she knows her way around the place.”
“Yeah… yeah…” You sigh. “You wouldn’t be able to see where she is, would you?”
“Sorry. Vision’s a bit spotty on this planet.” She lets you down gently. “If I take my focus off the Mage, I can’t guarantee I’ll find her again.”
“Bad luck.” You brood. “I was just hoping to go around the place with her. Listen to her recount the lore of her Land.”
“You know, I would sometimes sneak away from my lusus when I was younger every now and then.” She proposes, offering a new perspective to you. “Just to have a day on my own. It’s not unusual for someone young to want alone time. With how many people she’s been traveling with, I’m sure she’s been feeling a little claustrophobic the past few days. I’m sure she’ll tell you about that lore of her’s when she gets back.”
“…Thank you, Dallra.” You lightly smile, kick the dirt with hum-glum appreciation. A quiet moment passes when something crosses your mind. “Hey, you’ve talked about your lusus before, but I’ve got no idea what to picture when you bring them up.”
“Huh?” She looks at you, clearly confused at what you’re asking.
“When my human friends talk about their parents, I usually just imagine an older version of them.” You explain, reminding her of the cultural difference between you two. “But trolls are raised by a different species from your planet, right? So I’ve got no idea what they’d look like.”
“Oh.” She nods, realizing what you’re asking. “Well… her taxological classification was Pharus Noctiluca, but most people in the Caverns would’ve called her a Winged Cave-Scuttler. Specifically, she was a Bioluminescent Cave-Scuttler, she just so happened to fly. I’m not sure if any of that would mean anything to you, though. I used to call her a Sunshine Bug.”
“Sunshine bug?” You try to imagine what she’s describing.
“Yeah…” She reaffirms, bashfully twiddling with her hands. “I never saw it for myself, but according to the Jades who could stand the sunrise, the light her abdomen produced had a striking resemblance to the Star in our system.”
“I… think we had something like that on Earth.” You tell her, thinking about the fireflies that’d come out during summer nights when you were young. “Small cicadas that could light-up. Was she something like that?”
“I wouldn’t describe her as small…” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “She was pretty big for her breed, a little larger than a yellow public buggy.”
“A what?” Trolls have such weird names for things.
“Uh… a big metal, four wheeled vehicle that you could pay to take you places.” She explains. So a car. Her bug-mom was bigger than a car. That’s kinda horrifying.
“Huh…” You hum, trying to think of something to say about her bug-monster parent without sounding rude. “She sounds nice…”
“I didn’t get to see her very often once I had to take on the responsibilities of my caste, but…” Dallra smiles softly, looking down at her hands as they toy at a splinter of wood she broke off the crate. “She’s the one who taught me how to glow.” There’s a sadness to her voice. Guess she lost her parent too. Seems everyone has in the Arena. Except for Frank, strangely enough. Not that you would consider the woman he’s described to you as much of a parent.
“My Dad’s gone too.” You tell her, looking down as well. “He was, uh… human. Kinda looked like me, but taller, and… more rugged, I guess?” Her smile seems to perk up.
“I still can’t imagine what it’d be like to live with adults.” She laughs. “So your guardians are really biologically related to their fosterlings?”
“I don’t think they’re much of a fosterling if they’re biologically related.” You point out.
“Oh, you know what I mean.” She waves off your remark. “So like… a hive unit for you is a direct lineage?”
“Yeah. I-I mean, usually.” It’s hard remembering all the details about something as vague as family when explaining things to your alien friends. “Sometimes kids without parents would be adopted by other adults. I was actually adopted by my Dad, but we were still related, sorta. More like brothers than father and son, but that’s not really common for humans.”
“Your culture’s weird.” She jokingly jeers.
“Fuck you, your culture’s weird.” You jeer back. She lightly pushes you on the arm, starting to laugh. You join in. It’s weird, you don’t think you’ve actually laughed like this since you entered the Arena. It’s a gleeful feeling, one you can only have with a friend. Sharing this nice moment, you’re reminded of how you and… how you and Lexie would joke around. The light joy in your heart quickly shifts to grief, recalling those memories. You do your best to hide the pain the feeling evokes. No reason to dig up the past during what is a relatively nice moment in an otherwise unending sea of dismay, but… god, you miss her…
“Hey!” A familiarly chipper voice calls out. Looking up, you spot Gretel scampering across the street, making a B-line for you.
“He-hey!” You open your arms wide to extravagantly welcome back your daughter. “Look who’s here-“ You go to get up as she approached, however the young gecko has other plans, leaping off the ground on the approach and jumping directly into your midsection, quickly shoving you back down again. If she weighed much more than she does, she might’ve actually knocked the wind out of you. Luckily, she’s light as a feather. “Whoa-ho, easy, kiddo!”
“Where’d you go, Mr Jason?” She pouts, trying to wrap her small arms around your torso. “I thought you were coming with me.”
“Uh-, sorry sweetie. I got a little lost along the way.” You half admit to losing her.
“Bad luck.” She frowns, climbing off your lap and sitting next to you on the crate. “I thought you would’a liked a tour of the place.” She begins to kick her legs as they hang off the edge. Dallra muffles a snicker watching the two of you. What’s got her so giggly? “But we’re out of time, right?”
“Ju-… just about.” You pet her head as you deliver the news. You’d tell the others to go for another hour, but you’re not sure how much longer you could keep them busy. “I’m sure we’ll stop here again, what with you having suck a quick way to get us into town. We’ll do it then. Sound like a plan?”
“Okay!” She eagerly agrees, turning back to nod vigorously at you. You can’t help but smile.
“Great. Now let’s get a move on.” You announce, standing up from the crate, picking Gretel up with you as you place her on your shoulder. “Dallra, if you will?” You offer a hand out to help her up from her seat. She rolls her eyes trying not to laugh.
“Why, thank you.” She reaches out with her robo-arm, gracefully accepting your hand as she plays along with the formal tone. She also makes sure to grip your mitt just slightly firmer than necessary, reminding you where the two of you stand in ways of who’s helping who do what.
Walking through town, it isn’t long until you start meeting up with a few of the others. Creed, seemingly knowing your exact location, meets you down the block from where you were cooped up at, showing off a strange crystal sphere he’d found before shoving it back in his pocket. The triplets run into you about a block after that, each with a various number of tombs within their possession, undoubtedly scavenged last minute after goofing off in the town’s library for the last two hours. Your half group continues on, meeting the rest of your party at the gates, having already started reconvening themselves. Haugrr steps forward as he sees you approach, an apparent topic of discussion already on his mind.
“Hey, so we’ve been corralling all the info we could get, and we’ve figured out-“ He begins, seemingly taking your pointless fetch-quest seriously after grilling you about it beforehand.
“Good job, Haug,” You cut him off as you walk past. “but we can discuss everything on the road. We’ll have plenty of time as we walk.” You can hear him simmering behind you, sounding exceedingly disappointed in your complete disinterest with the results of the side mission you sent the group on. You don’t pay it much mind.
As you all gather your things, cataloguing the various clandestine items you discovered in the village and squaring them away in their proper inventory spaces, you turn to the bleak road ahead of you. Just as you’re just about to get on your way, a voice calls out from above.
“Hey! Wonder child!” You look up and see the Leader of the Guards, hanging out the front of the left watchtower overlooking the village’s entrance. “Watch yourself out there! No telling what sort of trouble a group that big’ll bring your way!”
“I will, sir!” Gretel yells back. “It was good seeing you!”
“Likewise!” He raises a mug he apparently had, cheering her as your group leaves.
“Was it nice visiting home?” Sara asks Gretel, catching up with you to walk side-by-side.
“Sure was!” She chimes back, leaning against your head.
“I’m so glad!” Sara tells her, a wide smile on her face.
With that, you’re off into the wilds of the vacuous world of LOHAN. Though somewhat relieved you're finally getting back on the road, something feels… off. Usually when you start a trek out of a safe haven like this, you have a gut feeling about the journey ahead. Be it good or bad, there's always that feeling. This time, you don’t really feel anything. At the moment, there’s a blankness occupying your mind, almost like the sensation you get ###### just before falling asleep.
While you contemplate what could be causing such an unusual disposition in you, a hand suddenly appears directly in front of your face, snapping to grab your attention. Surprised, you look over to see Creed.
“Hey, Boss. You alright?” He asks with a concerned look on his face.
“Y-yeah, yeah.” You frantically answer, startled by the sudden stimulus delivered directly to your ears. “Why?”
“You’ve had this dazed look on your face for, like, the past ten minutes.” He gently explains, sounding like he’s briefing someone who’d just woken up from a coma.
“What?” You look around to find you’re standing out in the middle of nowhere, Gretel’s village nowhere to be found. Wha-… what the hell happened?
“Boss.” Creed waves his hand in front of your face, trying to grab your attention again. “You’re not going all braindead again, are you?”
“No… no… sorry, just… a lot to think about, I guess.” You look around bewildered, unsure what happened. There’s a sudden panic when you realize Gretel is no longer on your shoulders. Your eyes dart around until you find her, nestled in Esspin’s hood, fast asleep. Good. “H-how-how long have we been walking… again?”
“About four hours now.” He frankly informs you.
“Right, right.” You try to play it off like you were just asking for a time check. “I haven’t been too talkative, have I?”
“Not really.” He looks at you strangely. “You’ve responded, y’know, when someone asks you something, but you haven’t spoken a word beyond that. You sure you’re alright?”
“I think this place is just messing with me.” You mutter.
“Not used to the void staring back, huh?” He assesses.
“You could say that.” You huff, taking stock of the new location you’ve found yourself in. Dreary fucking wasteland. Yep, just about the same as everywhere else on this planet. “…No one else has been zoning out, have they?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” He crosses his arms as the two of you fall back from the group to talk privately. “So spill, what’re we dealing with here?”
“Wh-“ You glance over at him, seeing a skeptical look on his face. Guess he’s got you pinned. “…Not sure. Based on the thematic elements, I’m guessing we’re in a Void player’s planet. Maybe it’s something inherent to the Land, then. Like a… curse or something.”
“You seemed to have all your faculties when we were still in the village.” Creed notes. “It’s possible the more people in a given area, the harder it is for this thing to get a hold of you.”
“You think?” You ask, to which he shrugs. “Hopefully we have enough Mental Exhaust to ward the effect off then.”
“Exhaust?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Huh?”
“You called it Exhaust.” He says again.
“What, is that… not the right word?” You’re a little caught off guard by the sudden fixation.
“No, it is the right word. Brain activity will give off a certain level of exhaust, varying from person to person.” He explains. “But something like that would only manifest in the metasphere.”
“The what?” Now you’re really confused about this fixation.
“The Metasphere. A realm where all the unseen effects of our existence reside. A sort of etherial layer of reality placed right on top of our own.” He elaborates, a seeming wealth of knowledge on the subject. “That’s not the important part, though. What stands out to me is that you’re not only aware of the Exhaust our Minds give off, but that you also made the leap in logic that the mechanics of this Land can be circumvented using this Exhaust as a protective shield.”
“It was just a guess, dude.” You try to reason.
“No. It wasn’t.” He shoots you down rather quickly. “I know when someone is guessing. You spoke with certainty. Perhaps subconscious certainty, but certainty none-the-less.”
“I-I really don’t know what the point of this-“ You begin to deflect again.
“The point is you know more than you let on.” He cuts you off. “There’s something in that head of yours. Something no one else seems to notice. But I do. It affects the little things, like the subtext in how you talk. To someone who isn’t looking, it’d likely go over their head, but to me, it’s as obvious as a traffic light. One look at you and I can tell there’s a constant resifting in the lower parts of your mind. Maybe you’re unconscious to it, or maybe you’re trying to hide something, and your true self hasn't got the memo yet. I don’t trust either scenario.” He pauses a moment. “I agreed to help with your plan because nothing told me not to. This is something telling me not to.”
You’re stunned as to where all this is coming from. Creed seemed fine with you just a few hours ago, but now it’s like he’s trying to tie you to a murder all of a sudden. He’s a powerful mind player, so of course he’d be sensitive to all the small neurological inconsistencies you might have, but he seems to have taken a particular exception to the way you conduct yourself. Have you been thinking on the wrong wavelength or something? Or is there really something abnormal in your head like Creed seems to think there is? Before you have a chance to ponder this any longer, a sudden scream grabs your attention. Up ahead on the trail you’ve been walking is the rest of your group, all crowded around in a circle, looking down at something. You look back at Creed and the two of you silently agree to put the conversation on hold as you turn and run to catch up.
“What’s happening?” You ask as you both enter the circle. Looking down, you see Ragnaa on her knees, clutching her head with Leah kneeling down beside her, trying to calm the sudden episode. Seeing you’ve arrived, your Knight looks up to face you.
“She’s having another flash.” She tells you. Her flashes? When she sees…
“Oh no…” You mutter.
Jason, find out what Happened.