《The Shape of Home》Exploration 3.5
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No matter where I looked, disappointment was everywhere.
It wasn't that I hated this city, or felt bored with it, but everywhere I looked, disappointment was everywhere. I couldn't help but think of how much wasted potential lay in the ruins around me.
The road was dotted with cracks, puddles and patches of moss. The buildings were damaged, with broken windows, shattered doorframes and mangled signs. Even if I'd never been to a city before now, I could almost imagine what this place must have been like in its prime. Pristine paths, a bright, exotic array of civilians and adventurers alike, and buildings full to the brim with goods and services. Now...
I felt confident in my ability to build and maintain our base, to keep it going strong and feeling like a place we could return to and relax. But... seeing these ruins around us put a damper on it. The sight of this place weighed my heart down. It was upsetting, to have our home be the single bastion of order and life amongst this sea of broken memories.
"[What do you think this place was like before?]" I asked Sigura, letting my awareness slowly drift to my right with her as my focus. I was feeling strangely melancholic. We'd been walking for nearly twenty minutes, and I hadn't seen a single Soul, nor even a hint of life.
"Way better than it is now," Sigura responded dryly. She sniffed at the air, glancing up at the gutters and edges of rooftops. "You know it's not all like this, right? When I was out yesterday, I saw other parts of the city. Just because this place is a dump doesn't mean it all is."
"[I... I know, but why...?]" I replied, still feeling gloomy. "[There's so much material going to waste here.]"
Sigura could only give a shrug in response. "Beats me. There was probably some sort of turf war around here. If a bunch of Casters went all out around here, it explains the damage. That fist mark back in the shopping center, the graffiti everywhere, the dried blood stains... Guess this place was hard to live in for a while, so everyone left."
It was an answer that I could see as plausible, but... it left a bitter taste in my mouth. If there had been some conflict, then why hadn't the people returned? Had those 'Big Teeth' driven everyone away? Had it just been too hard to come back?
A metallic bong rang out beneath me, one that came from Sigura patting the side of my mech.
"Look on the bright side, Yur. We won't have to stay in this dump forever. We just need to get our bearings and learn a bit more about this place. Once we get some equipment and coin, we can find somewhere in the better parts of the city to squat. When you see the other places this city has to offer, you'll forget all about this place, trust me."
Maybe... Maybe Sigura was right. Having better surroundings would certainly help to lift my mood, even if we wouldn't have as easy a time scavenging. It would feel wrong to leave this area right away, but once we'd picked up everything we could, I believed we would be able to move on in good conscience, knowing we'd made the most of what had been left here.
Even if we moved on... Even if we left this place behind, it would still be here.
That knowledge was rolling around in my head, tormenting me whenever it got the chance. It weighed me down almost as much as the enchanted items within my compartment, albeit in a different sense.
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Not being able to see these slums didn't change the fact that there was nothing but wasted potential everywhere I looked. I hadn't sensed anything nearly as useful as the cellar beyond broken firewood and the occasional metal handle, but looking at the empty shells of these buildings made me more upset than I believed I had any right to be.
If my specialisations were a little broader, and I'd been able to work with materials like stone... maybe I could have made more use of all this. It all looked so, so lonely, with-
Sigura sniffed the air, her nose crinkling as she came to a stop.
"Vomit. There's people nearby, Yur."
"[Where?]" I asked. My senses hadn't picked anything up yet.
"Few streets down. I can smell it from here. It's fresh."
I had conflicting feelings about the revelation. While I was interested in meeting more people, people that might be willing to really listen to us, the fact that the first sign we'd found of them was the scent of vomit made me less than optimistic.
We continued forward at a faster pace, swapping out our casual demeanors for a more confident approach. I was glad Sigura had decided against taking things slow, since this body wasn't nearly as capable of stealth as Sigura's.
"Stay back a bit, Yur," Sigura said, looking at me over her shoulder. "I'll see them before you do. Wait for me to give you a signal."
I elected to follow the advice, bobbing my body down in a makeshift nod. I kept some distance as she forged ahead at her request, keeping track of Sigura through my [Heat Sense] alone.
At the very edge of my senses, Sigura stepped into an alleyway. The blob of heat that represented her inched backwards, recoiling. It was easy to see why, too. There were other sources of heat in the alley with her, too small, still, and oddly shaped to be alive.
Some were puddles of vomit, while others were bags of warm waste. Rats swarmed the area, sitting between walls and crowding around both the puddle and the dumpster where the bags had been stored. All of them scurried away as the Half Nekari approached, disappearing between cracks and crevices as they scrambled out of sight.
"[What do you see?]" I asked, sending my [Telepathy] out to Sigura.
For a few moments, I saw no response. I waited patiently, standing by a ruined cafe as my [Heat Sense] was honed in on her. Then, she began to walk back towards me. I saw her wavy, blurred silhouette enter my bubble before features reappeared.
The expression on her face was twisted with rage, curling in anger. It was a pointed change from the calm, serious expression she'd had before. Her hands were clenched into fists, veins bulging along the backs of her hands.
"[Are you alright?]" I asked, inching forward with concern. "[Did something happen?]"
"There's people by the vomit, Yur. A lot of them," she replied, speaking through gritted teeth. "Come with me."
She whirled around, barely giving me a chance to reply as I followed behind. Her voice dripped with unconcealed rage, a furious anger which led me to believe she'd found the base for the Big Teeth. Had she lost her desire for a discrete approach and safety simply because she wanted to fight them straight on?
The thought terrified me, but it was something I could imagine Sigura doing. I undid the latches on the side of my mech, reaching for plates of metal, arming myself. I might need them to defend us, since I didn't feel confident in being able to physically hold Sigura back. When she got this angry, I didn't think I could do much of-
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I saw... them.
To my unrefined senses, they appeared a massive blob of heat. Most were sitting close to one another, and a few were standing, leaning against walls. Despite being living beings, most of them emitted less heat than they should. Less than I expected them to.
As we came closer, a massive hall of blue stone came into my awareness. The building had no doors or windows. Without any sign or identification, the building was faceless, covered in endless cracks and signs of wear.
I couldn't directly see inside, given that all the open door and window frames were covered in black curtains, designed to keep light from entering. I heard groans, shuffling and coughing, a mess of noises that blended uncomfortably together, each serving to make the rest of the sounds worse.
None of the beings inside seemed even remotely close to being armored Orcs. Confusion replaced wariness.
Before I realised what was happening, I saw Sigura grip the pair of dark curtains in front of the main doorway, her expression still contorted in range. With a single motion, she shoved them apart, moving with enough force to tear the edges of the curtains where her hands gripped them.
Light cascaded into the massive hall, causing many of the figures within to groan, and bring arms up to shield their eyes. I took a step forward, getting a better look at the... people that Sigura had found.
The hall was tightly packed. Children, teenagers, adults and the elderly, Humanoids and Beastfolk alike. Each wore clothes caked with dirt, or rags that were little better than what we'd left the facility with. There wasn't a single Soul here that didn't look as though they'd been the victim of a famine. Thin limbs, sunken cheeks and tired eyes were commonplace. Some of them sat in circles for warmth, wrapped up in blankets or sleeping bags. Others huddled together, shivering wildly as they looked towards the entrance with terror in their eyes.
At the back of the hall, I saw a black sack. One filled with empty glass bottles. It didn't take much to see the label on the bottle, nor the effects they had caused.
"Monster..."
The word was whispered, rolling all throughout the hall from dozens of voices like a churning tide.
The unlucky ones had visible mutations on their bodies.
Splashes of miscoloured or strangely textured skin. A fin or spike jutting out in places they shouldn't. Patches of hair missing along their heads. Miscoloured eyes. Wavy, unnatural glows around hands and heads.
Just looking at those with visible mutations not hidden by blankets or bags was enough to tear my heart in two. I didn't want to know how many more were left concealed.
An elderly Inura with tired eyes and grey hair that frizzed out of the dog-like ears atop his head raised a single, wrinkled hand. He placed it flat against the back wall of the room as white and grey sparks flickered from his fingertips. Patches of grey skin formed on his forearm, stretching down along it until the entire limb was covered.
The patch of dirty chalk-like colour didn't seem to stop there, either. It spread onto the wall like a deep mold, moving up along the wall until it spread in a line over the ceiling. It passed over the crowd of coughing, shivering people, dropping the occasional flake of dust onto those below before it shot down along the wall closest to us, moving much faster now.
As it reached the floor, Sigura jumped backwards, her eyes locked on the ground as the patch tried to touch against the base of her sandals. I watched, transfixed, as the patch found itself unable to reach her. It stopped at the edge of the darkness, never once touching the sunlight streaming in through the open doorway.
Sigura's expression was cold and wary. More light filled the hall as the crowd were blanketed in the orange light of Sigura's [Mantle]. Those closest to us looked up in fear. One pointed to a space over Sigura's shoulder, a space partially covered by the wounded walls of the building. They were pointing at me.
"Hey, you old bastard," Sigura called out, breaking the uneasy murmuring as she attracted the eyes of all present. Some had only noticed us now, their eyes dim, glazed over. "If you don't retract that fucking Spell right now I'll make you regret it."
The man at the back was breathing heavy. He had a hairy beard around the fur of his face, one that didn't seem to keep the cold from sticking to him. Patches of that same fur had fallen or been pulled out, littering the space around his legs, both curled up on the ground, shivering.
The crowd erupted into roars of complaint. Many of those present that could stand rose to their feet, reaching for weapons hidden beneath blankets, within bags or around their waists.
"Y-y-y...you b-bett... b-better not h-h-hurt these k... k... k-kids..."
His voice was dry and crackly, like old parchment that had been left out in the sun. Despite the racket, all present turned when he spoke, and the hall went quiet.
"I won't ask twice, old man," Sigura said, no longer raising her voice. While some of the adults and older folks looked on with apathy or poorly concealed rage, a few of the younger children began to cry.
My awareness was locked on the patch of chalky white on the floor. The metal plates I pulled free from my mech hovered close by, ready to pull her back should it push forward. Even while I was focused, Sigura hadn't budged. She and the Inura stared at one another from across the room, neither moving an inch.
Then, the pale white began to retract, stuttering erratically before it began to travel back up the wall, across the ceiling, and back to his hand. His arm almost seemed to drain the white back up from the wall, like a sponge soaking every remnant of moisture from a surface.
When he pulled his arm away, the colour remained. His fingers twitched in place, yet the limb itself looked stiff, like the crusted arm of a statue worn from age.
"Glad to see we understand each other," Sigura replied dryly, crossing her arms as she swept her gaze over all present. The fire in her eyes only grew, a sight that brought unease to the crowd. As furious as she looked, I knew it wasn't truly directed at them.
I didn't know what to make of the crowd. Were they just a collection of homeless people that banded together for safety? Some of them looked as though they'd had a run-in with Chimera, if the amount of mutations dotting their bodies was any indication. But I knew it wasn't that. The lack of brands and the empty bottles of Boost told another story.
As wrong as this place felt, my heart provided a strange sense of relief. It was a feeling that seemed entirely out of place, one I couldn't find the source of.
The eyes of those around us held nothing but fear and hostility. I couldn't help but feel it was only a matter of time before-
One boy, a Human barely on the cusp of his teenage years with patches of blotchy red skin along his body raised a trembling arm. An arm covered in dark red skin. That same burnt red travelled up his shoulder, covering the right half of his face.
"[F-fireball...]!" the boy sputtered out. Sigura's eyes widened in shock, and I moved my plates to protect her.
"Stop! Don't-"
Her words were cut off by the sound of an explosion, followed by shouts of alarm.
I barely had time to realise what was happening before Sigura leapt forwards, her footfalls finding tiny spaces between those in the crowd. Everywhere she landed, people scrambled away from her. She jumped closer to closer to the source of-
The boy who'd cast the Spell was on fire. The ball of flame hadn't even left his hand before it had burst. Worse still, it was hurting him. Somehow, his own Spell was causing him pain.
The blankets and people around him had caught fire. The curtains covering the windows were alight, blowing in the breeze. The crowd around him was rolling, scrambling and leaping away from the source, only to get caught on blankets and sleeping bags that had caught fire.
Sigura touched down in the middle of the roaring flames, landing next to the screaming boy. Her arms snapped out, clasping tightly around his wrists. The boy wrenched his body from side to side, screaming desperately to escape both his assailant and the flames, both to no avail.
I didn't know what Sigura was doing, but I trusted her. I couldn't step into the hall, but my metal plates could enter with ease. I sent a collection of nails and plates through the air in her direction as several adults with mutations brandishing weapons rose to their feet, working their way through the crowd towards her. I created a defensive wall, readying the nails to block their clubs and blades should they-
"[Flame Shaping]!"
The [Mantle] around Sigura brightened. I saw the flames around her change hue, becoming more of a deep orange than their original dark crimson. All at once, the flames peeled off from the individuals and fabric they'd clung to, rising into the air as a cloud of crimson.
Sigura moved her arms, using one hand to clasp both of the boy's wrists as she brought the other to her top, pulling down the collar as the flames snaked towards her. Like a twister, the fire converged in a spiral, drifting down and into the orb embedded in her chest.
As the flames made contact with the metal, the surface turned murkier. It seemed to consume the fire, bringing the amount of heat and danger in the air down by the second. The boy wasn't struggling anymore. Instead, he watched as the flame he'd conjured was devoured by Sigura, both arms still wrenched above his head.
"Fuck..." Sigura breathed. Her breaths came hard as the last of the fire vanished. She let go of the boy, letting him drop heavily to the floor. Although I'd been using my plates to keep some of the curtains aloft, none of the magically generated flames had produced any smoke. She glanced down at an open palm as she flexed her fingers, turning around.
One of the individuals in the crowd, a thickly built man with criss-crossing scars along his upper arms and tightly shaved ginger hair, pulled back the string of a bow. My plates flew, moving to intercept the arrow as he released his grip. The arrow narrowly passed between my defenses, striking-
Sigura caught the arrow. Her arm snapped upwards with a speed that I reasoned had to have been a Skill. Her limb had blurred, moving so quickly that even my zone had a hard time keeping up with it. My wall of metal parted, becoming looser as it formed a rough semi-circle around Sigura, ensuring that none of the individuals with blades could approach her.
The Half Nekari clenched her fingers with a snarl, snapping the shaft of the arrow in two. She swung her leg directly upwards, causing a flash of red and orange.
"[Release]!" I heard her shout, the sound piercing through the anxious, murmurs of the crowd.
The man with the bow was knocked backwards, struck so hard in the cheek that my body shivered. I heard an audible crack, and I could only hope that she'd held back enough not to break his jaw.
He stumbled, tripping over a dropped blanket as he collapsed to the floor. The thud of him dropping to the stone was followed by a clacking sound, one that seemed thunderously loud in comparison to the silence that followed the attack.
Next to him, Sigura's sandle had touched down to the ground. That was what she'd fired at him.
She looked around, casting her gaze at the crowd, all of whom had their eyes locked solely on her. With a sigh, she planted her foot back on the ground.
"Are you done?" she said, before glancing at a shivering young girl next to the man that had fallen. "Hey, you. You, with the blond twintails."
The girl looked back towards her. Her eyes were empty. Glassy. She looked as though she were in a trance, or still half asleep. Not frightened, but... distant.
"Pass me my damn sandle."
The girl's eyes trailed towards the ground, landing on the makeshift projectile. With a trembling arm, she reached for it. The eyes of the children and adults alike had fallen on her now, yet she barely seemed to notice. She picked it up, and made an attempt at throwing it back to Sigura.
Her stick thin, trembling arm hadn't managed to throw it as far as Sigura had wanted. Instead, the sandle barely made it past those next to her.
Sigura's shoulders slumped. She leapt away from the boy next to her to a chorus of alarmed shouts. She looked towards me as she walked back to the entrance.
"Can you grab it, Yur? I don't feel like wading through this crowd to get it."
I nodded, moving one of the metal plates down towards the displaced footwear. Using the corner edge of a plate, I hooked it into the sandal's strap, hoisting it into the air and back to the Half Nekari.
The movement of the plate back towards us felt painfully slow. The air was thick with anxious murmurs and heavy, frantic shuffling as the metal passed overhead. Many had moved away from the [Pyromancer] boy.
I saw more than one child and adult alike gripping small objects akin to dolls, their eyes squeezed shut and their hands brought together in desperate prayer.
Sigura's eyes had lost some of their fire. I wanted to bring up the Boost, but the last thing I wanted to do was to reignite Sigura's rage, or do something that led to her antagonising these people any further. She picked her sandal off the end of the floating plate, slipping it back onto her foot before taking a deep breath.
"Listen up!" Sigura roared, shouting with a voice so loud it shocked even me. Using my [Telekinesis], I pulled all the metal I'd been hovering throughout the hall back towards us, pressing it against the walls around Sigura.
I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, or try to reach for my levitating weapons. I kept the metal close, forming an arch of steel around the entrance as I pulled the nails and plates out of the building.
"I don't know why the fuck your first instinct was to try and fight me. Maybe it's because I look like this, or maybe it's because you've had to fight anyone you don't recognise survive around here. Either way, I don't care."
She reached over, patting the side of my mech with enough force that it produced a resonant, metallic banging sound.
"My name is Sigura Brightmane! This is my ally, Yuri Scalesmith! Don't forget those names. We're going to be staying around here for a while, which makes us your neighbours. If that was your best shot at killing me, then not even a gift from the Old Gods would give you a chance against us. We don't care about fighting you, either. I don't know what you people have been doing until now, but if you don't fuck with us, we won't fuck with you."
As she spoke, her eyes were locked onto those of the old man sitting at the back of the hall. I hadn't been paying attention to the elderly Inura, but the white chalk-like patches hadn't faded from his arm.
"If you want us to leave you alone, we will. But... we're neighbours. If you want our help instead, then you'll need to trust us, and give us help in return."
Sigura took a deep breath through her nostrils, her eyes moving from the elder to the boy who'd exploded into flames. She raised a single arm, splaying her fingers outwards. Those closest to the doorway leaned away, a sentiment of fear that only grew as a small ball of flame formed in Sigura's palm.
"We're strong. Stronger than the rest of you put together," she declaration. I didn't know if that was true, but I didn't want to say anything to steal her thunder. I'd offer support if I needed to, but Sigura had taken the floor.
"I can teach you how to be strong if I need to. I can smell the stench of Boost on each and every one of you, too. Maybe you needed to use it to get some semblance of power to protect yourselves, but all you're doing is damaging your Souls. Strength is something you've gotta forge yourself. You won't find it hiding in a fucking bottle."
"T-that's... that's not true..."
My awareness shifted, looking towards a Satyr boy sitting at the back, his legs curled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them.
"We... We're just the unlucky ones..." he continued. "Some of us were blessed... blessed with power we can use."
More than a few people looked towards the old Inura. Sigura's nails dug into her palms.
"You think that's 'blessed'? If it's so fucking good, why hasn't he dispelled the effects yet?" she snapped back. More eyes were drawn to the Inura's arm. The arm that was still white. Still stiff as a statue.
"He's got magic he can use, but if he doesn't know the fundamentals, then that's all he's got. If he doesn't understand what he's doing, he can't go anywhere from there."
Sigura rolled the flame in her hands between her fingers, letting the small ball of fire dance around her palm before landing on the end of an extended claw.
"If you help us, we'll help you. We know more about developing magic than a fucking bottle of Boost."
She rolled the flame back down into her palm, clenching the hand into a fist as the flame was snuffed out. Sigura closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she lapsed into focus. Not a single person tried to strike her or run.
"[Heat Aura]," she spoke, raising her voice.
Standing this close to her, I could feel the effects slide along the surface of my mech. With a small motion, I popped the front of the helmet upwards, letting the heat touch against the front of my body. It wasn't a hateful heat, nor an aggressive heat, but a confident heat. One that warmed me to my core.
The murmuring of the crowd became louder. Some of those present shed their blankets from the warmth, no longer needing them. The heat spread throughout the length of the room, touching everyone and everything around Sigura.
"This is what magic should look like. Controlled. Refined. This is what training and Experience can give you, too," she said, her [Mantle] flaring strongly to life once again, bathing the entire room in an orange-red glow.
"If you want that training, and the protection we can offer, seek us out. Don't bring weapons you plan on using, and don't try anything you're gonna regret. My partner here," she emphasised, patting my mech again. "-is a [Blacksmith]. If you bring her old weapons, or metal, or any resource you can find, I'll teach you. That's the rule."
At the back of the hall, the scarred man with the bow roused himself. He clenched his jaw with one hand, breathing hard as he pushed it lightly side to side. I heard an audible crack, and the man rose to his feet, bow in hand. He didn't reach for the quiver on his back, but the hard look on his face made it seem like he wasn't far from it.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, you monster? You don't know the shit we've been through. We need real power, not parlor tricks. You can't give us the kind of power the men at the coast can," he spat, his words laced with venom.
The men at the coast? The suppliers of the Boost, if I had to guess. If the Boost hadn't just been found or stolen, then how did they get it? Was someone just giving the Boost away? I doubted these people had the coin to pay for something like that.
Sigura seemed far from impressed. She crossed her arms, rolling her eyes before looking back towards him.
"'Power'? Is that what you call getting knocked on your ass by a shoe?" she responded dryly.
I didn't know whether the man would try to attack again. My gut told me he had no real way of hurting Sigura. If he could do anything to strike her, he seemed like the type to have done it by now.
"That was nothing but a little trick," the man snapped back. "You haven't seen what the people chosen by the power within those bottles can do."
Sigura shrugged in response, the glow around her intensifying. Her expression looked bored. Condescending. I could only hope the elder and those in charge weren't as quick to think badly of others as the scarred man was.
"Yeah? Where are those people now? If they're so damn strong, why haven't they kicked the shit out of me yet?"
The man's teeth ground together, his fists clenching tight around his bow. Sigura didn't wait for a response.
"This glow you're seeing around me right now is [Mantle]. It makes the body stronger, tougher and helps to make magic more solid and controlled. If bow boy over there knew how to control his Aera properly and do this, maybe he wouldn't have had his jaw broken by a sandal."
At the back of the room, the man seethed. I didn't think she needed to be as pointed as she was, but at the very least, she was getting her point across. Sigura reached over to one of the walls, using her nails to casually carve a pebble out of the wall in a clear display of strength. She pulled her arm back, revealing the small ball of stone cupped between two fingers.
"Keep your heads down," she spoke idly, clenching her fingertips around the rock. With a flick of her fingers and a brief ring-like flash of orange and yellow light around her hand, the pebble was fired towards the back of the room with a whistle that caused several people within the crowd to scramble away. A small crater was left in the wall, high above the elder's head.
"That's [Release]. If you know how to 'snap' your Aera outwards, you can do things like that. Creating a shockwave with a punch, firing a pebble as though it was a bullet, or maybe even making a sandal more effective then an arrow," she finished, once again jerking a thumb at the man she'd really decided to double down on making an example of.
The crowd had quietened down. Their focus was fully on Sigura now, the scarred man completely forgotten. The tension in the air had weakened. The people before us didn't seem as hostile or frightened as they had before.
Sigura's eyes flashed with light. Both were covered in a deep sunset glow, the edges of the newfound Aera flickering like embers from a roaring fireplace.
"This is [Insight]. If you know how to use it properly, you can detect magic, see people through solid surfaces, and gauge how strong other people are, or what they're like," she finished, glancing around the room with a heavy, pained look in her eyes.
"Some of you aren't weak, but your auras look... wrong. Some are too big in one spot, or the 'flow' isn't right. Whatever power you get from those bottles isn't worth the damage you're doing to yourselves in the long run," Sigura said, her voice quieter now. With how silent the crowd had gone, she no longer needed to raise her voice.
"Unlike Spells, those were Luster Arts. They're the backbone of any good Caster, and anyone can learn 'em. They're the essentials that every Sorcerer worth their Spells should have under their belt. If you try to transform Aera into magic without even knowing how to focus it, you're setting yourselves up for failure. My old Tumor Tutor taught me how to do all this, and I can teach you, too. If you prove you're helpful and worth teaching, I'll give you the strength he gave me."
Sigura turned around. I saw her wince, her eyes scrunching together. Was she in pain...? Had she been hurt by the arrow, or the flames she'd... absorbed?
"Remember our names. If you want to find us, go to Dronrowth," she said, stepping forward as she let the curtain fall closed behind her.
She began to walk away, and I parted the curtains with my plates, allowing them to fly out the door and back to me. Through the crack in the curtains, I could see the uneasy murmuring and quiet conversation unfold. As Sigura took the aura away with her, people began to reach for their blankets and sleeping bags once again, feeling the chill settle within the room at her absence.
Once the panel cover had been secured to my mech, I set about following Sigura, who was walking back the way we came.
"Fuck!" she exclaimed, covering her face with both hands. I walked steadily behind her, not missing the collection of children peeking out from behind the curtains as we made our way back towards the base.
"Was that a fuckin' waste of time, Yur?" she asked, pulling her hands down away from her face. She looked... annoyed. Haggard.
"Tell me that wasn't a waste of time. I didn't want more people to start using that shitty drug. If that happened, we'd end up with more people who are as much a danger to themselves as they are to us. Was it a good idea to waste daylight trying to talk sense into them?"
"[I don't think it was a waste of time,]" I replied quietly. The first words I'd said in a while. The world still felt dream-like, as though I were still mesmerised by Sigura's speech.
"Yeah? Why's that?" she asked, looking back towards me with an expression of disbelief. "If you're just saying that to make me feel better, it's only gonna make me feel worse, Yur."
"[I wouldn't do that, Sigura,]" I replied, feeling confident in the declaration. "[This was our first time properly communicating with people from this city. Our first attempt at communication that didn't end in us needing to drive our opponents away, at least.]"
"We pretty much barged into their home and told them how to live, Yur. You'll need to try harder than that," she replied drily.
That wasn't enough for her? I for one was feeling incredibly optimistic.
Our last two encounters with the natives of this land had ended in broken bones and newfound enemies. Even if Sigura had... broken a man's jaw with a sandal, the reception we'd gotten upon leaving hadn't been wholly negative. That in itself was something to be proud of.
"[We may have acquired more help,]" I told her. "[There's only so much the five of us can accomplish. If we have allies, we can spread our names and add to our forces. The chances of us being overwhelmed by a superior foe drops if we have others wishing to... If we have subordinates.]"
Subordinates that we might need in the future. When those Big Tooth people came back with reinforcements, we might need all the help we can get. If those good for nothing 'lawmakers' were doing nothing to help those people, then obviously they weren't doing their jobs.
Even if those people were homeless or magically inept, that was no reason not to provide any form of protection. If she'd wished, Sigura and I could have caused serious damage to everyone inside, and they wouldn't have been able to properly defend themselves.
Judging by their hostile reactions and immediate jump to self defense, this wasn't the first time they'd been confronted. The thought sent an angry ripple rolling along my skin.
I could see Sigura's expression contort as she mulled it over. When a smile found its way to her face, I felt a pleasant wave of relief wash through me.
"Yeah, s'pose so. If they brought us shit you can use, I figured it wouldn't be a waste of time. I was going to teach you and the others, too, if I needed to. I figured this'd be like killing two wolves with one arrow. Still," she grinned as the two of us journeyed back to base with the morning sun's warmth at our backs, the light illuminating the streets ahead.
"I do like the sound of having subordinates."
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The Number
There were two things I knew instantly when I began to exist. The Number was 1922916.12. And I had to make the Number go up. [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 182Natural Slave
Those who are as different from other men as the soul from the body or man from beast are slaves by nature. For them it is better to be ruled in accordance with this sort of rule, if such is the case for the other things mentioned. It is not advantageous for one to be held in slavery who is not a natural slave, for such a condition is sustained solely by force and results in enmity. Not all slaves are in chains. Not all slaves even realize that they are slaves. What is the truth of this world? The Logos are the Words of God. Time waits for man.
8 189Programmable Magic
Our main character, Reo van Dijck, tries to survive in a world where magic-spells are stored in game-like-cartridges. Only a few lucky ones can use them though. These chosen ones are venerated and worshipped like celebrities, unbelievable riches lie only a single dungeon-exploration away for them, they are called Machia. What will happen to our protagonist when he awakens as a Machia and discovers that he can actually program these magic-cartridges?... The Earth also changed drastically since the dungeons appeared, how could it not? These unknown, giant towers suddenly started spewing out hordes of fiends and monstrosities. Only The Machia were able to defend against these attacks on humanity. Countries were destroyed, safe-havens were build and then yet again destroyed. Eventually humanity adapted, like it always does. The economy was rebuild and centered around these new towers, these dungeons, the treasures they hold outweigh their dangers. Life is relatively safe again, for most at least… Read about Reo’s exploits, an immigrant from the Netherlands, as he tries to honor his dead parents and… find love? Establish a Guild?! Live the Ideal Harem life?!! BECOME PIRATE KING?!!! Okay maybe not that last one, but Reo will definitely leave his mark behind on this world full of mystery. This story features romance, comradery, an interesting power system and a post-apocalyptic world with amusing characters, what more do you want?! No seriously, I’m always open to constructive feedback. This story also displays my interpretation of a magic-coding-language (based on JAVA). Although knowledge about coding helps, you can also enjoy the story without it 😊.
8 278Harry Potter: Dimensional Wizard
Edward was reincarnated into the world of Harry Potter, an act which excites him giving the fact that this was one of his favorite books. So, he embarks on the path of wizardry in the hope of discovering the way it works, the laws or theories that govern it; he wanted to find its essence. He tries to find the answer to questions like What is the soul. Why can wizards use magic, while muggles cannot? Do bloodlines truly exist? And if so, what use is it to wizards? Could it be the reason that some wizards are born with exceptional talents like Parselmouth or Metamorphmagus? When Edward finally uncovers the answers to these questions he pondered on, he suddenly thought to himself: "Since the world of Harry Potter is real, what about all the other anime, movies, games, and books that I read from my past life? And if they are indeed real, how I can I get there?" This story is an Infinite Stream novel where the mc travels through different anime and movie worlds acquiring various magical abilities and knowledge to become a supreme wizard that stands on the top of countless dimensions and universes. Warnings: The MC will spend a great deal of time in the Harry Potter World before going to other worlds.I have not decided whether the [Curse Child] is canon or not. I do not care what JK Rowling said. This is a pseudo-science explanation of magic, so take it with a grain of salt. I am an amateur writer with not-so-good grammar, so any constructive criticism is appreciated. This is a wish-fulfillment and Gary Stu-type novel so read at your convenience. If this is not your kind of thing, then move along and do not complain about it later. Although this fanfic will be a Harem, the mc will not have a thousand women. Most likely, I will write so that he has a certain relationship with some female characters, then he will leave her in her own universe. Only a few will follow him in his journey. Also, a few men will be in his group. THIS IS NOT A YAOI. Disclaimer: All the characters--except the one created by me--belong to JK Rowling.
8 88102The Zone Operative
In the near future an explosion at a particle accelerator causes cracks in reality to appear. Around these cracks the zones form. Fog bound areas that create monsters and drive many insane. John Harrington is one of the “lucky” few that can tolerate these zones. Follow him as he travels in to them and faces the horrors with in. Warring: This story contains graphic violence and profanity. Not for those easily offended.
8 300Loverboy || Nishimura Riki
‹‹𝘖𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘥.›› 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥.‹‹𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭.›› 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘕𝘪-𝘒𝘪'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴. ‹‹𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘠𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯?››^sneakpeek^Highest ranks in#2 enhypenff#10 riki#1 nishimura#4 enhypenfanfiction#1 enhypenrikiWhen the captain of the basketball team joins the art club.Warning: you might die of cuteness, cuz ni-ki is adorablefluff, a lil angst, high school romance, young love, sickening sweetness- Happy Ending!- Mention of some Enhypen members (they play basketball)- Y/n Y/l/n- Art club- Science club: chemistry- Basketball- Ni-Ki is whipped- Ni-Ki is the captain of a basketball teamSlightly inspired by High School Musical 3, but without the musical part (just some scenes + basketball if you count it)
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