Dave knew what a leg was, and had seen plenty of them. Having had two of them himself for most of his life, he’d even consider himself something of an expert on legs. They came in all shapes and sizes, had a foot on the end and a knee in the middle. It wasn’t a complicated subject and he felt he understood it completely.

But the one lying on the ground, with a perfectly smooth cut along the top severing it, wasn’t meshing with his brain properly. There was supposed to be a person attached to it, not just a severed stump. Breathing deeply, he reached out a trembling hand to pick up the fallen limb flinch as he touched it, the room temperature skin making it even more surreal has lifted it up.

If the information he had was to be believed, then he’d need to...eat... a third of his weight every day, or he’d starve to death, and considering how much being cut down had hurt, he didn’t want to go through the experience of his own stomach killing him. Whoever this leg had come from had been large, more than enough to feed him for the day... if he could get himself to eat it. Already he could feel it, hunger gnawing at him while he looked at dead flesh in his hands, wanting him to consume.

Did they just have a function to create extra limbs in the system, he wondered trying to distract himself, or did they create a whole person and the break them apart, storing the pieces for later. As thoughts of warehouses filled with torsos and heads ran through his mind, he shook himself, realising he was putting off making the decision. Was he willing to eat another person to stay alive, even if only in a virtual sense?

That question made him think about it in a different light. While it was technically just a game, even if he was stuck in it for the time being, the AI running around were apparently just as aware and sentient as he was. Did it matter to them that it was just a game? To them it was everything, and right now it was everything to him as well, as real as the world outside where his body lay broken in a hospital bed. If he could make the same decision out there, to fix his problems by eating another person, would he do it?

In a heartbeat.

Dave wasn’t a monster, but he was a firm believer in putting yourself first. It was what had made humanity the ruler of the planet, and it was what led its leaders to the top. For people to rise, sometimes people had to be crushed underneath. And to get back his life’s meaning for something as little as eating a dead body? The choice became simple.

But while decision had been made, the act itself posed a problem, namely he could just sit in a public alley eating human flesh and hope no one come down. It was deserted at the moment, but he really didn’t want to die again. Fortunately the city was big enough, and developed enough, that they had what looked like a sewer system, and there was a manhole in the alley.

Putting the leg back in the bag, he hoisted it over his shoulder and made his way over to the cover and, with some effort, managed to leverage it open. Dropping the bag below, he climbed the short ladder that ran down into the sewers, ending on a narrow path that ran alongside the water flowing through the tunnels. Heaving the cover back into place behind him, he was surprised to discover that he could see in the dark to a degree, everything lit with a faint red light.

Sitting down against the wall he relaxed as he switched back to his true form, removing his robe before pulling the bag closer. It wasn’t what he would have expected as his first meal in The Expanse, but if he needed to eat a leg in a sewer to survive, then that’s what he’d do. He looked at it, staring at the tiny hairs and pores, faint marks and calluses that really made him wonder where it had come from, but before he could put it off any further, he raised it up and took a bite, his jagged teeth tearing into the flesh.

As soon as the skin touched his tongue, it felt like his mind exploded as the taste overran his mind. The faint saltiness on the surface of the thin, elastic skin gave way to the rich layer of fatty tissue that melted and broke apart in his mouth, leaving a buttery taste, and below that, the meat.

The fibrous muscles were springy at first as he chewed them, but as they broke down they released a deep, rich flavour that made him think of pork ribs. He chuckled as a thin trickle of blood ran down his chin, realizing how accurate the phrase ‘long pig’ was. Another bite followed, then another, the taste dominating his mind and throwing away his sense of control. At that moment, all that mattered to him was eating the meat in front of him, ripping through the red and stuffing it into his mouth.

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Before long all that left were bones, the larger ones cracked opened to have the marrow sucked out while the smaller were eaten whole. Looking at the pile next to him, still spattered with blood, the reality of what he’d just done came back, that he’d eaten what could have been walking around a few hours ago. But despite this, instead of horror, all he could think about was that it would’ve tasted better if it had been warm, and fresh. There was something off in the taste of eating it like this, not bad exactly, but it was like eating a microwave dinner, it lost something in the process.

Standing back up he kicked the bones into the sewer water and looked down at himself in surprise. Even though he’d just eaten a huge amount of meat, he hadn’t gained any weight, not even a stomach bulge. Patting his stomach, he found it felt denser, the liquid mass inside him having shifted around to make room for the extra mass. Concentrating, he once again adopted his human guise before picking up his discarded robe, squinting at a few errant blood splatters that had fallen on it.

Shrugging it back on he climbed back up the ladder and out on to the surface, wondering what other things happened just out of sight in this city. Stepping out of the alley and into the warm afternoon sun he found himself once again on a busy street, except this time the crowd didn’t turn on him, though a few did smirk at his clothes. Looking down, he took stock of what he had and what he needed. If he was going to be living here for the foreseeable future, he’d need food and a place to live. The food could now at least be put off until tomorrow, but a roof over head was something he needed to find now. Fortunately, he’d traded music for a bed more than once during his time singing around the city, so he was fairly confident that he could find an inn or hotel that would take him in for a night at least.

But even if he didn’t expressly need an instrument, he’d need one to draw the crowds, and that wouldn’t be for free. His outfit would also need an update, since whenever he thought about what he wanted to perform in, “pants” were a key feature.

Walking up to a stall selling baked goods, he greeted the elderly woman behind it with a warm smile.

“Excuse me young lady, do you think you could help me with some directions?” he said, enjoying the feeling of talking again.

The woman snorted. “Ain’t gonna give ya no free grub for compliments, but I can point ya somewhere.”

“I lost my belongings and, as you can see, I’m in need of something to wear.”

She nodded. “Figured. You need ta be careful these days, lotta folk getting robbed or goin’ missin’.” She paused before leaning closer. “I reckon it’s all these new comers fault. Just showin up outta nowhere and runnin about the place like nutters. I ‘eard they don’t even die properly if ya kill em. Just ain’t natural.”

Dave nodded solemnly. “I’ll heed your words closely. Now, where can I find a tailor around here?”

“Garth’s place is up round ta corner, four roads up on ta left. Big blue sign, tell ‘im Nina sent ya an’ ‘e'll treat you right.”

“My thanks to you.” He said removing an imaginary hat to her.

She chuckled. “ Yer welcome. Here, ‘ave a pie. Be closin up soon so may as well.”

Taking the flaky pastry from her hand he said good bye and began to head in the direction she’d indicated. As he walked he unthinkingly took a bite, only to shudder as it filled his mouth. The flavours and textures were just wrong to him, even though he could see that it should have been simple beef inside. It was as though a kitchen sponge and been soaking in a muddy puddle, before being wrapped in sheets of paper. With effort he managed to swallow the bite, not wanting to spit it out as he moved amongst the crowd, gagging as he did so. Whatever the game had done to his tastebuds, it was effective in both directions.

Rounding the corner, he subtly dropped the remains of the pie behind a bush on the side of the road as he went to the store the old woman had mentioned. The store was a small affair, looking squashed in amongst the other buildings, but while the places around it were still open for business, the windows at the tailors had been drawn closed, the door shut.

Frowning, Dave walked up to it confused. The way the woman had mentioned it, it seemed she’d expected it to be open as well. Going to knock on the door to see if they were open, he paused as he caught a now familiar scent drifting from inside.

Blood.

Opening the door a crack he could make out two voices in a hushed, but heated argument.

“...you go ahead and kill him for?”

“I just hit him! Not my fault the old bastard could take a hit.”

Opening it further, Dave peered in, to find a pair of short figures standing over the bleeding body of a man who was presumably the tailor. At the sight of the fresh body on the floor, his stomached growled despite eating only moments ago. The figures, dwarves he guessed by their height and beards, turned suddenly towards the source of the sound, raising clubs as they did so.

“I thought you locked the door?” one hissed to the other.

The second ignored him. “Who’s there?” They said in a low voice filled with menace.

Taking a breath and looking about, he decided to take a risk, and stepped in, closing the door behind him.