“Fire, please,” the-female-who-was-not-Needle hissed quietly, resonating a resigned [sadness]. I understood. I answered.

A column of blue fire spewed out from between my open jaws, wiping away a section of my mana core’s reserves.

She asked again, and I answered again.

It was a familiar process by now. An important one.

The flames of [Mana Fire] danced, casting shining reflections over the surface of the black-water, tingeing it in shades of blue.

A once-corrupted stepped beside us, walking on trembling limbs. I stared for a moment, flicking a tongue to check for the scent-taste of blood and injury. I found none, and turned away again just as a series of noises spilled from her lips.

“Float free, little puppets,” she mumbled. “Your strings are gone, too.”

She reached out and pushed. One after another, the flaming darkwood not-sinks carried their charges across the open expanse.

The gathered Coreless, once-corrupted and First Disciples both, watched until little but ash remained.

The black-water swallowed what was left.

“May the null-water strip what remains of this world’s poison, leaving their souls free to return to the Skies Above,” not-Needle murmured, voice warbling slightly. She raised an arm to wipe at the drops of fluid on her face. Another came immediately afterwards. I caught it on a flickering tongue. It was as salty as it always had been. She sniffled her [gratitude] as I pulled away, letting my coils wrap themselves across her shoulder again.

Soon enough, we were traveling through the many-nest again, the Coreless following the tugs of their [Little Guardian’s Totem]s as the maze of roots tried to shift around us. The Great Core’s First Disciples talked among themselves quietly. They seemed far more at ease than before, despite the remnants of [sadness] that flowed across our connection.

It hadn’t been our first time to do something like this, though it had been the most successful with the guidance of the once-corrupted. Though I had stayed outside with the-female-who-was-not-Needle and some of the others, Will had followed the once-corrupted into the spore-mist where we had found her.

It didn’t take long for them to come back with a Little Puppeteer and its puppet, and then another, and another. They were ripped away from their victims before we traveled out to the black-water.

That, too, wasn’t something we did for the first time. Though I hadn’t killed many bad-things over the recent days, the thought-light had rewarded me for my efforts in other ways.

Lesser Core Skill: [Little Guardian’s Focus VIII] Increased.

[Little Guardian’s Focus IX] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Fire IV] Increased.

[Mana Fire V] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Little Guardian’s Focus IX] Increased.

[Little Guardian’s Focus X] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life - Invigorating Bite IX] Increased.

[Life - Invigorating Bite X] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Life Essence Manipulation II] Increased.

[Life Essence Manipulation III] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Venom X] Increased.

[Mana Venom XI] Acquired.

Lesser Core Skill: [Mana Fire V] Increased.

[Mana Fire VI] Acquired.

The rewards that the thought-light presented were all welcome; each was a sign that the Great Core approved of my efforts. However, there was something else that I was even more eager to see. Before I could, something caught my attention.

The sole once-corrupted walked up beside us, casting furtive glances our way every so often. The sheer [GRATITUDE] that still radiated from her was hard to ignore, though I had been getting better.

“Elara, right?” the-female-who-was-not-Needle said, making noises at the Grateful One and baring her teeth slightly.

“Ye...yes,” she mumbled back, sounding tentative even to me.

“It was brave of you to volunteer for this. Most of the other victims we’ve managed to save haven’t wanted to leave the safety of the Little Guardian Statue - and none of them have personally guided us through the mists. I saw how hard it was for you to go back in there. Thank you for that. Without your help, some of those people might have rotted away in there forever.”

The Grateful One brought one hand up to her neck, rubbing at the threads hanging from her neck. “Not a victim,” she said. “Not a puppet. The strings are cut.” She tugged a little, looking towards me with a strange light in her eyes.

“Oh, sweetie,” not-Needle said, her voice soft. “I know you’re not. I know.”

The Grateful One nodded, baring her teeth widely in response to not-Needle’s words.

Not-Needle’s returned one of her own, but it was far dimmer. Almost sad.

I slithered down from my perch as they kept talking, pulling myself towards the large skin-mouth clinging to the-female-who-was-not-Needle’s back. It took some effort, bumping my head against its edges, commanding it to open its mouth. Finally, its heavy jaws opened wider, and I slipped through the hole that it made.

I landed on something soft, my ore-flesh-covered length heavy enough to sink into its surface. The remains of a Little Puppeteer, one of three swallowed by not-Needle’s skin-mouth. Unlike other Cores, this Lesser Core had trouble recycling the corpses of its fallen bad-things in order to recover mana; its plant-flesh minions hadn’t been made by its mana, just mutated by it.

Or maybe the skin-mouth devouring the remains was protecting them from the Core. I didn’t really know for sure; it didn’t even really matter.

I bit down, my jaws open as wide as I could get them, enveloping the soft plant-flesh of the first Little Puppeteer. Bit by bit, it slipped down my maw, finally finding a place within me as the Great Core claimed it for itself.

I was excited.

It was the last piece that I needed.

Level 8 Little Puppeteer Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Blooded Trait Acquisition Progress: 5/5.

Analyzing Blooded Trait…

Acquiring Blooded Trait: [Spore Puppeteer I]

There in the stomach of not-Needle’s skin-mouth, resting on the corpses of the Great Core’s enemies, I changed again.

It was everything that I had hoped it would be.

A thin, sac-like membrane formed in my mouth, a small hollow behind it. I could feel the way that my mouth-flesh could be flexed, forcing the membrane to pop and reveal the space behind it.

The hollow was filled with a strange mixture of spores, each slightly different from the others. If I focused, it almost felt like I could do something more, like I could change them to be more in line with what I needed.

I pushed, trusting that feeling, and two of the spores melded together. Bits and pieces sloughed away; I couldn’t tell what had been lost, only that the result was something different from what they had been.

With nothing else to do, I twisted around and looked towards the remaining two Little Puppeteers. My tongue flicked out. My mouth opened wide.

Level 9 Little Puppeteer Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Blooded Trait Upgrade Progress: 1/10.

Level 6 Little Puppeteer Consumed.

Transferred to Core.

Blooded Trait Upgrade Progress: 2/10.

With that done, I found myself cradled at the bottom of the skin-mouth. Its surface brushed against the exposed parts of my scale-flesh every time the-female-who-was-not-Needle moved, ghosting across the surface like fingers offering praise. I coiled into myself for a moment, thinking over what I already knew - thinking over what I could do. I decided that it was worth the cost.

I called to the thought-light.

Available Trait Points: 6

Use Trait Points To Upgrade A Trait?

It flickered again, responding to my thoughts.

6 Trait Points Required For Upgrade of [Spore Puppeteer I] to [Spore Puppeteer IV].

Upgrade Successful.

I tried again, feeling at the little spores with a new understanding. Some of them were more infectious than others, able to spread between hosts more easily, crossing through open wounds. At the same time, part of me was sure that those would lead to mindless minions, attacking anything that wasn’t filled with spores of their own - or me, of course. I wasn’t sure that I wanted that part; they would end up attacking the Great Core’s Coreless. That wouldn’t do.

Others seemed like they were the opposite, trading much of that infectiousness for what felt like greater intelligence, though it wasn’t exactly that. Closer to a type of control without the viciousness of the other type, if anything. Less likely to go berserk.

I didn’t understand how it would work yet, or how much direct control - if any - I would actually have on bad-things that were infected by it, but it was still interesting.

The thought of taking control of the Lesser Core’s bad-things, forcing them into the service of the Great Core...it was more exciting than almost anything. It felt right.

I focused on that aspect of [Spore Puppeteer], working to merge spores together to maximize its effectiveness, discarding the vicious infection in order to do so. There were other aspects to the spores too, but they were more minor. Either way, I didn’t pay them much mind. The number of spores contained within the hollow decreased greatly as the spores grew in size, sacrificed to make them better until only a few remained. Hardly any at all.

I’d have to hope that the spores didn’t take a long time to regenerate, but I’d rather have a small number that I could actually use safely than lose the Great Core’s Coreless by being stupidly reckless.

The skin-mouth shifted, whirling itself around. Immediately after, there was a sudden light, and a familiar hand pulled me from the skin-mouth’s stomach.

“Hey there, Little Guardian,” not-Needle hissed, looking at the skin-mouth’s empty stomach with upturned lips. “Did you get hungry?”

I flicked out a tongue, lazily winding around her arm as I played with my newfound spores.

I would need something to test them on soon, if I wanted to understand how they worked.

But where should I start?