I was a bit shaken.

Though I knew that it wasn’t actually me, that I was only a mind piloting the limbs of the spider, dying had not been comfortable. I had felt my mind tear away from its pulverized corpse, ripped asunder at the moment of its death.

I felt less.

It was strange, what you could get used to in such a short period of time.

Only a little while ago, I had struggled with the multiplied limbs and sensations that came with [Unity]; now, I couldn’t imagine living without it. How did people handle it? How did they move with only two legs? How did they sense with only one perspective? How did they be with only one self?

I didn’t know the answer to that, anymore.

Regardless, I knew that I would soon be whole again. I would soon be more, just as I was with each passing day.

That didn’t mean that I had to accept it.

A small, irrational part of me hated the Captain for killing me.

Still, I kept the emotion down as best I could, distracting myself with other thoughts.

While my spider-self had explored the compound, I had familiarized myself with the permits that had been mentioned by the gate guard. From what I had discerned, there were specialized classes on responsible Risen ownership, along with standard background checks and interviews that, when passed, would allow for certain otherwise restricted Risen-types to be utilized within city limits. Unfortunately, it seemed that each city tended to have its own permits, despite the nationwide nature of Noumenon’s Spectral Guard; what was acceptable in one might not be in another. It was a shame, though I hadn’t been sure that it was something worth doing anyway.

It wasn’t like they’d ever give me a permit for an entire horde of Risen. That would have been a good way to get myself in trouble.

Still feeling out of sorts, I wandered the streets. Eventually, having spotted a tavern, I went inside. Though I did not tire, I figured that it would look strange if I suddenly stood still for a long period of time.

Ordering a beer to pay for my use of the facilities, I took a corner booth seat. My mind felt restless, in that way that only a discomforting degree of adrenaline could cause. Victor’s body, fully alive and functioning as it was, ensured that I was still affected by such things.

I was angry. Upset. Furious, even.

I needed to work off some steam.

I closed my eyes and shifted most of my attention to Reaper’s Grave once more.

Reaper’s Grave

I had not been idle, despite my focus on Dihaim and its intriguing complexities. Though I took care to move rather minimally as Victor so as not to shift the circle of my power overmuch, that did not make me immobile. Far from it, really.

Here, I was legion.

Now, granted, I didn’t personally control many of the Risen that were nearby; the only Unified Risen that remained in the area were the Aryx and those that were required to expand my radius of control to Dihaim. Regardless, they still felt as if they were an extension of myself; they were my arms, my legs, my body - dumb and robotic though they might be.

Each day, they gathered more corpses under my command. Each day, their numbers expanded - expanding the magnitude of their results in turn. Though my main body was forced to remain in place, that was not true of my Aryx-self.

I ran among them, exulting in the freedom of movement that I had long ago lost. For years, I had been afraid; afraid of each step, afraid of each moment, as I never knew when that step might end a life.

I had been chained - and now, I was free.

In a sense, of course.

With each round of corpses returned to my main body, new Risen were created. With each round of Risen, my range of lethality decreased.

The thought made me unimaginably excited.

One day, I could imagine, I might be able to walk without worry. One day, I might be able to live without fear.

That day was not today; that day was not even soon. Yet, still, it sparked enthusiasm within me. Maybe I’d get to go on that hike with Mel, in the end.

It was a wonderful thought.

Another source of excitement had been my source of meat. I had discovered that, the greater the healing that was required to revive a Risen, the more life was lent in its creation. Though this might have been an unfortunate aspect to most, it was the opposite in my mind. Not only did it mean that I could easily subsist off of the meat of animals that I hunted, but it also meant that I could further the speed at which I doled out life energy - a two-for-one deal. It also had the fortunate effect of allowing me to avoid testing whether the restored flesh of a Risen was palatable.

I suspected that it was not.

I shifted more of my attention to my Aryx-self, as I heard the crackling of leaves nearby. Though it was difficult at first, I had noticed that I was becoming more and more able to keep up my awareness in the Unified Risen that did not simply act as glorified range boosters - those, I did my best to ignore.

An enormous beast rushed out of the thicket, roaring in challenge. It outweighed my Aryx-self by an order of magnitude. Though it was larger than I remembered, it had the distinct look of a Pollaceros; it was adorned with many heavy horns that jutted outwards from its snout, brow, and spine, while swathes of vivid crimson colored its thick, plated exterior. It gnashed its teeth, pawing at the ground and lowering its head.

In the next moment, it charged.

Combat as my Aryx-self was far differently handled than battling as Markus. Though I felt more connected to Markus personally, I knew that he could heal from any injury - that knowledge gave me a measure of solace.

The Aryx was different; were I to be injured, the only method of healing was to put myself out of my misery. While I could be restored to full function by reviving myself, my Aryx-self would lose the effect of [Unity] that I had placed upon it. Even before losing my spider-self, I had been hesitant at the idea. I only received one new charge of [Unity] per day, and I relied on it to expand my range of control.

Now, having experienced the death of one of my Unified selves, I found the idea increasingly repellant. I did not wish to become less than I was - less than I could be.

I dashed to the left, clearing away from the beast’s charge. My claws ripped into the earth as I turned, instantly shifting my momentum to the side.

The Pollaceros, slower than myself, was unable to follow.

Yet, though it was slower, it was certainly far more dangerous.

It continued its blind assault, head lowered at an angle. Finally, it was stopped. Wood cracked. The forest shook. Leaves drifted downwards around us, shaken from their branches, before catching in the wind and bidding their goodbye.

The beast shook its head, momentarily stunned by the thunderous impact.

I took the chance that was provided.

I rushed at the creature, opening my jaw wide and clamping it down upon the dazed beast’s back leg. My serrated teeth sunk into its flesh, finding gleeful purchase; a gout of blood ran down my throat.

Next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, pinpricks of pain taking hold within my maw. Blood flowed down my throat still, though it was not the beast’s this time. This time, it was my own.

My brief flight was soon arrested; I smashed into a waiting greatwood with an audible crack.

I hissed, the action feeling natural to my reptilian self. My forked tongue rubbed against my teeth, searching for the source of the blood. Soon enough, it dipped into a set of deep pits, devoid of the teeth that had so recently filled them.

I had made a mistake, committed too far in my attempt to wound the beast. I had suffered for it.

Despite that, the effort had garnered some degree of success: the Pollaceros turned with a halting stride, blood streaming down its ankle in miniature rivulets. The forest floor ran crimson, drinking in the meager offering. Still, it was just the beginning.

As the monster pawed at the ground, preparing to charge once more, my ears twitched.

“...bandits to the southwest, harassing the relief caravans.”

I tried to refocus, ignoring the sounds of conversation from the tavern where Markus rested. It was distracting, dealing with so many dissonant sensations and sounds at once, but I made do - and it was getting significantly easier.

I dodged to the side again, the movement slower than the last. The beast twisted in response, prepared for my attempts to evade, throwing its horned skull in my direction. I contorted my spine, curling uncomfortably. An artificial gale brushed against my scales, confirmation of the near-contact.

My ears twitched again, responding to a different voice.

“...the Withering. One moment he was fine; the next, he was dead. Dried out, y’know?”

I swiped out with a claw as the beast, unable to stop, was forced to continue its charge. Furrows of red lined its underside, a warning against further attacks.

The warning was not heeded.

“Excuse me. Excuse me?”

The wounded beast charged again, unwilling to admit defeat. Yet, once again, I managed to avoid its grasp.

“Are you awake?”

It let out a frustrated bellow, the sound alone proving enough to reverberate through the earth at my feet. The forest rumbled in response. Lowering its head, it charged once more.

It really was distracting, dealing with so many things simultaneously. Still, this, I could do. This, I could handle. I dodged again.

After all, distracted or not, I wouldn’t lose a hunt within the boundaries of Reaper’s Grave.

The forest continued to rumble.

Here, I was undefeatable.

Here, I was legion.

A wave of Risen spilled from the forest. They crawled from the earth. They leapt from the canopy. They dove from the sky.

They collapsed upon their soon-to-be brother - biting, tearing, ripping, clawing, chewing, devouring. The Pollaceros bellowed in pain and terror, thrashing helplessly.

Soon, it stilled.

A ravaged carcass rested in its place.

Dihaim

I opened my eyes.

“I’m awake,” I said, answering the question. “Is there something you needed?” A small group stood just outside my little booth, waiting expectantly.

One of the group, the man who had spoken before, nodded apologetically. “Sorry about that. We just wanted to see if this spot next to you was being reserved for someone else.”

“No,” I said. “By all means, sit. In fact, you can take my seat. I was just on my way out.”

I quickly downed my beer, tilting my head back and letting it pour down my throat. I winced silently, realizing that I should have thought better of that. Though my Risen were in no danger of drowning, I would have to poke a hole in my abdomen later to let the alcohol out. I had forgotten about my missing digestive system. That would be annoying to deal with.

I sidled past, slightly embarrassed by my misstep.

I handed in my tankard, tossing an extra coin to the barkeep as I passed by. He gave me a smile of thanks in return.

Despite my moment of private embarrassment, I did feel slightly better. Putting more focus on Reaper’s Grave for a time had allowed me a nice reprieve, a refreshing change of perspective. Regardless of the unfortunate loss of my spider-self, and despite my excessive loss of control the night before, things were steadily improving.

Not to mention, I was more than a little excited about the new addition to my horde; it might even be a candidate for [Unity]. I had always wondered what super strength felt like. This might be as close as I would get.

I nodded to myself, forcing a smile to form on my face.

Things were changing; that was all that I could really ask for.

At the same time, it was more than I deserved.

I would be content.