Chapter 20 Quoth the Raven “Nevermore” Part 7

“But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.”

“A bat is rather unwieldy isn’t it?” Aiden murmured as he wrenched the thing out of a zombie.

“Hmm?” Ranpo replied, his beak half full with zombified flesh.

“Spit that out, you have no idea where that’s been.”

Ranpo hurled out the hunk of grey flesh, “Gahh, I do. I could taste where it’s been.”

“Why do you keep trying it then?” Aiden retorted.

The crow leapt onto his shoulder, “It’s the first time I’ve ever tasted anything. It seemed appropriate to test out all my senses.”

Aiden rolled his eyes. Looking around the now cleared street, he noticed a grocery store by the side, windows smashed in. He checked the time, 8:11, before he entered the store.

It was empty inside, apparently, the zombie situation meant no one bothered to show up for work today. Holding the bat under his armpit, he grabbed a bag of seeds and dried fruits, “Try these.”

Ranpo took it with his beak, flying the bag onto the unmanned counter, where Aiden followed him. Taking out his wallet, he counted the sum and left it on the bench.

“May you open it for me?” Ranpo asked, his voice half-muffled by the bag.

Aiden took it with his hand, noticing it had a tear spot. Biting a corner with his teeth, he used his now freed hand to tear open the bag. He nestled the bag between his right arm and chest, using his freed hand to also take a few raisins to eat.

“Opposable thumbs, truly a miracle of nature,” Ranpo muttered as he stuck his beak into the bag. “Shame you lost the other one,” he said with seeds inside his beak.

“Don’t talk while eating,” Aiden replied.

He didn’t actually feel hungry. Isaac wasn’t joking when he said the bar would feed him for two weeks. That saved him almost two hundred bucks on groceries, Aiden might’ve hugged the man if he was allowed to hose him down first.

Ranpo swallowed his food, “That was significantly better than rotting human flesh.”

“I would sincerely hope so,” Aiden answered with an alarmed expression. “Otherwise we just got fleeced by that store.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Ranpo asked with a turned head.

“What’s wrong with that?”

The crow rolled his eyes before he stuffed his head into the bag once more.

Aiden raised an eyebrow before he turned his attention forward.

He let his bat fall out of his armpit, catching it with his hand. It was truly unwieldy for him, made for two-handed use, his single hand often lost control of the weapon when he went for wide or heavy swings. The weight was too far up the end of the bat for him to compensate.

Something shorter would’ve been better, like the combat knife he had strapped to his leg, but it was too close range and wouldn’t easily put down a zombie.

Not that it mattered much.

The feeling grew as he walked. A feeling that was difficult to describe, not necessarily safety or security but familiarity in a sense deeper than anything he’s ever felt.

It was like the opposite of going near a Gate, and though the alien itch caused by Bleed never went away, he felt slightly more comfortable.

The sound of gunfire and shouting was ever-present and growing louder, as he turned a corner and witnessed a mass of humanity.

The senior citizens were joined by a mob of people, some still in their pyjamas as they cleared away the swarming swathes of zombies.

It was not some rampant flash mob, Aiden saw. At its core was a militia comprised of old and new faces alike, directing the tide of civilian combatants into favourable choke points and dispersing the larger and more dangerous crowds of mutant zombies with heavy weaponry and abilities.

There was no official chain of command as he would understand, everyone just slotted naturally into a role. There were people who pointed where to go, and everyone was at least smart enough to know when to shoot. It was just emergent behaviour.

And as he came closer, he felt it.

Like a constant thrumming, Aiden could feel the power here. He didn’t understand it at first, but after passing an old man in a military uniform he realised it.

Hume.

Everyone had Hume, even normal people, metas like him just had more of it. Those who were older had enough that it was almost palpable, and when so many people were gathered together, it made this particular slice of reality feel more… Real.

Colours felt more vivid as he looked upon it, the world seemed to be enhanced, everything felt louder.

He held his head, leaning onto a wall for a moment as Ranpo jumped off his shoulder.

It was strange.

Nothing from his mundane senses told him anything was different. Everything appeared normal, yet whatever his Bleed sense was called was firing like crazy. He wasn’t noticing anything new, but what he did notice was amplified. He acutely felt the dryness in his throat, the taste of blood and rot in the air, the granular texture of the concrete wall he leaned on, the sounds of gunfire and cheers.

“Aiden.”

Ranpo’s voice sliced through the confusion like a blade, the crow’s voice clear in his mind.

Aiden just noticed he held his eyes shut like vaults, opening them, he saw the wall beside him was no longer a shade of grey, but instead scarred with darkly gnarled and bare branches, thousands of colourful insects, bugs and critters covered them like living leaves.

His power.

He breathed out, and the insects opened their wings, a great flutter of movement as they set flight, a tree coming alive from ink.

Then he breathed in, and everything drew back into him.

He now recognised the myriad creatures that painted that wall for a brief moment, butterflies, beetles and many other things.

Aiden tested the mediation practice again, finding that the tattoos appeared more easily and more vibrantly on his skin, even when still, they looked truly alive.

“Has this been happening with every gathering of people?” he murmured in curiosity.

“You sense something?” Ranpo asked.

“Bleed sense but not for…” he shook his head. “I can sense Hume, and it’s stupid thick here.”

The crow glanced around, “I see nothing different.”

“Because Hume does nothing,” Aiden replied, a mute sense of realisation coming to his mind. “Not unless a metahuman uses it, because all it does is enhance reality. The laws of physics still stay as they are, the clouds still move and the sun still rises, because Hume doesn’t change anything except enforce the reality we know.”

Suddenly, Aiden felt something new, a third sensation. Turning his head silently to the opposite side of the road, Ranpo’s own following where he looked.

“There is one thing that increased Hume changes,” Ranpo murmured.

Opposite of them, there was something like a crackling, not unlike a bag of chips, before reality cracked like a biscuit.

And Aiden saw the concrete building evaporate like powder. Around the crack expanded a sphere in which everything broke into a cloud of fine grey dust.

One person was caught unaware, their leg caught in the slowly expanding field.

They were a human, a living being with more Hume than reality, and thus they had a tiny bit of resistance towards the Bleed.

So their foot took a second longer to evaporate before a heroine dragged them out.

The woman made sure the man was ok, before she jumped forward, temporarily taking flight, heading directly towards the breach to seal it.

Then Aiden heard it.

The buzzing.

A swarm of creatures, each appearing like a great fly, the smallest of which was the size of a hamster and the largest a dog, slammed into the woman, throwing her back.

The swarm rushed out of the Gate, entering their reality and then…

Rapidly began to die off.

The ones that got the furthest seemed to collapse into themselves as if crushed by an external force. Multiple seized into tiny spheres, barely the size of marbles.

“Rudra disruption class!” the heroine yelled out, “Likely different molecule bonding laws!”

“They’re not awakened,” Ranpo noted, “our reality is as much poison to them as theirs to us.”

Then one amongst hundreds rushed out of the breach, passing the threshold where the Bleed affected.

And it was fine.

“It’s a numbers game,” Aiden muttered.

The vast majority were getting sucked into tiny spheres upon entering their reality, but a few were making it out. Escaping into the sky and disappearing.

He glanced around, there weren’t many suitable things to animate, so few objects were conveniently animal-shaped after all. So Aiden resorted to the road railing in front of him since it was vaguely rod-like.

He breathed, feeling the great mass of people around him, his ability felt greater, stronger, if only in this circumstance, ‘I can probably try this.’

If he were to help then he would go for size and power.

“Titanoboa-”

His phone suddenly rang and he paused.

Taking out his phone, he glanced at the message:

‘M.I.A Connect Help Bot

Emergence phenomena has been detected. A Type 4 mass Gate opening event has risen in probability. The school bus has been deployed to ensure all student’s safe passage. Students in the meanwhile should wait at a safe location and do not actively engage in combat or seek danger. Especially avoid activations of your ability if you are untrained in Meta techniques or self-suppression.

If you require immediate assistance or have further inquiries, Connect Help is available for text messaging or voice calls.’

His hand tightened around his phone, glancing around, he saw that to the side the zombie horde had largely been dispersed, but people were fighting a few stubborn mutant types and capes had the new Gate dealt with.

Sighing, he leaned against the road railing, rubbing his eyes as he waited.

“We’re waiting?” Ranpo asked.

“Gates are caused by a great accumulation of Hume in a single place,” Aiden muttered, “it is only natural to assume mine counts as well.”

He recognised the term Emergence from ants and other eusocial insects, it referred to when multiple parts came together to form a greater whole. It applied to many things, including people, a single person was nothing much, but as they congregrated, they formed things like societies, law and culture.

Applying that logic to Hume explained why he suddenly felt more powerful, like if he just pushed he could achieve something greater than what he could accomplish alone.

But this power was risky, in this situation it would be akin to throwing wood on a fire.

“A Type 4 Gate event would warrant evacuating the city,” he murmured, drawing on Bu’s knowledge.

So he sat and waited until a school bus landed next to him, he took one last look around him, before he boarded.

There was a strange feeling in Aiden’s chest as he left the bus.

Ranpo had left earlier, stating he wanted to explore the world, so he was alone.

The bus was kind enough to land past the obstacle course, which meant he was actually on schedule for the first time.

But that wasn’t it.

The small triumph of being on time was instead overshadowed a strange melancholy. As he walked, he noticed how young the students were compared to him.

Well, compared to Aiden Lu.

Not for the last time, Aiden considered his situation, how he, Aiden Lu was seemingly reincarnated into a younger, alternate version of himself called Aiden Bu, in a world that was utterly insane compared to his. It was such a strange turn of events he almost turned religious. In fact, he might still if a higher power properly identified itself as causing such events.

Or perhaps it was a cosmic coincidence that he ended in this situation. Masquerading in a body that was only superficially his. That belonged to a boy who had committed suicide in a moment of despair.

And amongst this crowd of young students, Aiden felt alone.

There was once a point where he could’ve been a child like this, who smiled and laughed and complained about homework, but he never had this. His youth was stolen away and when given back in this strange turn of events, he only felt old. More alienated as the world of what could’ve been highlighted itself around him.

He was alone.

The face looked like his but it wasn’t. The world looked like his but it wasn’t. Jaiden Bu looked like his sister but she wasn’t.

What was the point of his quest?

Why did he bother getting up?

A gentle hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Yo,” Jun said. “What’s with that face?”

Aiden pushed up his glasses, rubbing his eyes, “Nothing. Just… a bit tired.”

Jun glanced at the dark bags, just barely noticeable under his eyes. “C’mon, we have homeroom.”

“You’re in my class?”

She seemed to smile under her mask as she waved a class attending list under his nose, “Swiped this off the desk, we’re both in class 10B.”

Aiden raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, “Lead on then ma’am.”

“God you makemesoundold.”

He smirked slightly as he followed, “You wouldn’t know a thing about being old.”

That loneliness never went away.

But perhaps a person can learn to forget it better.

Ranpo flew close to the ground.

He avoided being too high. It was just a chance glance, but there were… ‘shadows’ in the clouds that he didn’t want to mess with.

His objective was close by anyway.

If he read the books correctly anyway, he’d certainly hoped so. He’d spent hours twiddling around the blasted things with his talons and beak when they were made for idiots with opposable thumbs.

Thankfully, his objective soon came within sight.

A few short kilometres from the city, placed within an overgrown park, there laid a great metal archway.

It was ancient but well maintained. Rust had been regularly scraped off and the pathway leading up to it was kept clean of debris and overgrowth. Ranpo landed on a checkpoint office, taking the time to groom his feathers.

The time should be up soon.

When the sun reached midday, there was a great whirring sound, as the archway roared to life.

Power writhed invisibly within the metal, distorting the air as they struck the area beneath, congealing into a single point.

And reality was torn, revealing red skies and bloody rain on the other side of the archway.

Flapping his wings, Ranpo flew straight into it. Entering the portal and passing into the blood-soaked hellscape of Yuro-P.

Here, blood fell like rain, the stench of death and rot assaulted his senses. A few living people manned the perimeter, keeping a watch of things passing by.

Ranpo landed on a rooftop slick with fresh blood, looking at what lay before him.

Mountains and mountains of corpses.

Corpses of men and devils alike, stacked so high they almost scraped the sky.

There was once a channel here, a route of water that separated the island nation of Brettonia and the lands of the Franks. No trace of it lay anymore, for the corpses had long clogged the thing up to the brim.

And past all of that, were red clouds, like a malevolent mist, they forever shrouded what was left of the Isles. The smoke twisted and squirmed like a living thing, tendrils constantly grasped beyond, as if trying to claw one more scrap of reality to be brought back to the Hells.

This was one of the Five Calamities that could end the world. The Promise of Red Skies. The Grave of Kings. The End of Golden Eras.

Or simply, the Gate to Hell.

And behind him, the archway slowly shuddered into deactivation. Like an old smoker letting out their final gasping breaths, the portal shut down. Yet the relic would continue to function, as it had been since the Lost Age of Technology.

Ranpo watched the portal close, and when it did, he closed his eyes and waited, expecting something to happen.

Yet nothing did.

The crow opened his eyes, it wouldn’t completely allay his suspicions, but it did greatly help.

For even on the other side of the world, far away from Aiden, Ranpo still lived.

Which meant he wasn’t a creation locked nearby, that he wasn’t like a contrivance that failed the moment they left their creator’s effective ability range.

It was little, but it once again steeled Ranpo’s conviction.

The conviction that he was truly alive.

That night, Ranpo returned through the portal when it activated he flew first to Aiden’s home, but the man wasn’t there.

So he flew to the only other place the cheapskate would visit.

Saint Nicholas’s Children’s Hospital.

The windows were open, and Ranpo entered, perching himself on the still.

Inside, Aiden sat. He dressed well, but his form was gaunt in a way that seemed to hold a mad sort of strength. The sort you would expect of a starved and tortured prisoner, wielding naught but a shank. The fingers from his remaining hand dug into his stump, drawing blood yet the man didn’t seem to notice. The eyes decorated with dark bags stared unblinking at a prone form before him.

Perhaps the man wished for some sort of change after the Gates to Necrada, but there were none. Maybe Aiden expected this but didn’t want to believe it. For even invigorated, the seniors at the retirement home still retained their previous ailments, deafness, cataracts, and one that still needed a mobility scooter to move.

The Bleed to Necrada didn’t make one all-powerful or immortal, a boy with cancer would still die of cancer, an old lady would still die of old age. They just get back up as a mindless zombie immediately after.

Both of them stared at their purpose.

And Ranpo wondered if they were both fools.