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A World of Many
Chapter 002: First Encounter of the Dangerous Kind

Chapter 002: First Encounter of the Dangerous Kind

Cyrus slowly proceed down the dark cavern, right hand grazing past the walls to keep him stable as his left was propped with the device-turned-shield. Treading carefully he strained his senses as his heartbeat hastened.

Shallow breathing with the occasional deep breaths came from him. In truth he knew he was in no real condition to be doing something as stupid as venturing out in a dark cavern when there was the possibility of danger, but the choice was already made.

He begrudgingly continued forth in hopes of a fortuitous event. If all goes well then he might not even encounter anything dangerous on this expedition. Though if he did encounter an enemy then he’d try his best to avoid then.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sounds of his footsteps were the only thing that seemed to be audible around here. He thought about slowing down a bit to reduce the noise he was making, but the thought that he might not make it if he went any slower made him reject the notion.

If things get really bad then I’ll just use this thing. Cyrus looked down at the device on his wounded arm. Though its current form was that of a shield he could also change it into a sword, spear, or bow at will. Thoughts of killing someone entered his mind as he thought about the possibility of entering a fight. Hopefully things don’t escalate to that.

Determined to dodge and evade any confrontations rather than directly take them head-on Cyrus sent the thought of killing to the back of his mind. He instead turned his attention back onto the device. Even though this thing changes shape and absorbed a few things it’s still light as a feather. Just what the hell is it?

It was true. Even in its various transformations the weight of the metal device never exceeded its original form. Such a notion bewildered Cyrus. Then again, this thing can absorb things into it and even change its shape. Maybe the whole “no extra weight” thing isn’t the weirdest aspect of it.

Putting aside his amazement of the device Cyrus notices something farther ahead. Is that…light? From a bit father in there was a bright light at the end of the tunnel. With relief and happiness overtaking the despair and fear in his heart, Cyrus hastened his pace. Step-by-step the source of light drew ever closer to him, its shining bright light symbolizing hope and peace for him.

Raising his injured left arm to shield himself from the blinding light he quickly entered the place without a second thought. Taking the time for his eyes to readjust to the light Cyrus energetically removed his arm from his sight, practically smiling at his fortune. However, that smile soon vanished from his face.

What? That was the only thing his brain could process at what he was seeing. Rather than an exit he was still within the cavern, enclosed within its dank walls. The light source that Cyrus had seen, the source of his temporary joy, came from a few glowing crystals in the room. In fact the chamber he was in was filled with them.

As if doused with cold water Cyrus’s body faltered. He lay on his knees in a submissive position, his fingers trembling as they clawed into the ground. From fear to blissful to uncouth rage and despair, the sudden shifts of emotions within that short timeframe caused more damage to Cyrus that he would have originally though.

Tears slowly began forming before they streaked down his face. He was scared, afraid of where his current predicament had put him in. He had ventured out to try to find some help only to be put down at the first sign of hope.

In the first place Cyrus himself was not an adventurous being. He was cowardly, cautious of what may cause him pain, and quite evidentially a sensitive and self-doubting being. Once he discovered that this was not the exit that he had originally though various negative thoughts and emotions entered his mind.

What if I never find a way out? What if I die here? If I had stayed put would I have already been saved? If I go back now will there still be someone who passes by and help me? Will I even be able to make it back? What if I’m all alone here? Is…is death all there is for me?

Such thoughts seemed to sway endlessly in Cyrus’ mind and heart. While distractions such as the device seemed to keep him at bay it was nothing more than his attempts to remedy his situation, to calm his nerves and try to think clearly of what to do next.

Dammit…dammit… “Dammit!” As if unable to contain it, the thoughts in his mind ended up being voiced out in defeat. Breathing erratically he had finally managed to gain some semblance of control back to himself. With clenched fists he remained there, eyes to the ground as his tears continued to flow down.

Clang!

A never before heard sound echoed in the chamber. It was reminiscent of metal clanking against metal. Cyrus remained there, motionless, as the sounds continued to draw closer and closer to him. Fear gripped his mind and heart, preventing him from taking action. It was a fight or flight reaction. Only in this instance, Cyrus’ flight failed him.

Clang! Clang! CLANG!!

With a furious stomp the sound of clanking metal ended. Unfortunately relief did not embrace Cyrus. Only dread did. The reason was simple as an armored foot had slammed down right within his view. While there was a chance it was someone who could help him, Cyrus couldn’t help but be filled with fear as the hairs on his body stood on end.

Danger! Danger! Danger! His mind cried out to him. With rusted robotic movement Cyrus slowly lifted up his downward face. He wasn’t sure why he was able to move his head, nor why he was about to stare at what had appeared in front of him and made his mind’s danger radar go off. It was as if his body was not his own anymore. He was conscious of his actions but unable to control them.

As his head slowly lifted up he was able to take note of what he was seeing. The armor that the one in front of him was wearing was obviously not the correct size. Not only was the armor too big, but there were various pieces of it missing as some of the color underneath the metal of the armored being was exposed.

Green? Cyrus’ mind contemplated about the unusual color of what was beneath the armor. There was the possibility that what he saw was actually some clothing that was underneath the armor. However as his head continued to rise such thoughts became distant.

The leg greaves of the armor appeared smashed as various cracks plastered them and the jagged top showing that they may have even been partially destroyed already, their length shortened. The gauntlets seemed to be in an alright condition if only too big for the one wearing them, grasping onto a pair of well-maintained daggers. The only other piece of armor equipped was the helmet which hung loosely on the creature’s head.

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W-what…what is that?! His mind screamed out. No, he knew what it was. The problem came from accepting that such a creature could even exist. Still the proof was right there in front of him. It had sickly green skin with warts plastering it, a misshapen head with disproportionate facial structure and eyes that seemed ready to pop out of their sockets as its uneven sharp yellow teeth protruded from its mouth.

With a size roughly two heads shorter than he was, smelling of filth, and childish groans and incomprehensible babble there was one thing that Cyrus’ mind came to the conclusion of. If all he ever read about and experienced in games is true then the creature that he was having a staring match with right now was no doubt a – Goblin.

He could feel as his heartbeat quickened and blood was rapidly coursing through his veins. With a permanent wide-eyed expression Cyrus stared at the goblin in front of him, unable to fully comprehend what was happening to him right now.

With his thought process halted Cyrus was unable to act as the goblin in front of him raised its dagger, preparing to strike. It wasn’t until a searing pain overcame him that this thought process returned to him.

“Aargh!”

Late to process the pain Cyrus yelled in anguish after being stabbed. Looking to where the dagger was implanted in him he saw it was in his injured left arm, the one wielding the shield.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! IT HURTS!!

Unable to voice out his pain the words echoed louder and louder in his head. Seeing Cyrus in such pain the goblin gave out what appeared to be a happy grunt as it proceeded to remove the impaled dagger. Flinching from the act Cyrus finally screamed out in pain.

Seeing Cyrus flailing about had brought momentary joy to the goblin. Though it couldn’t really describe it there was a sensation, a drive it felt that compelled it to torture the strange looking human in front of it. Best of all it was an extremely weak human who seemed to have no other talent than to scream and be scared.

During its time of exploration the goblin had suddenly blacked out and awoke in the strange cave. Looking around it eventually found some armor and a weapon it could use. It had heard someone screaming from a different part of the cavern and curiously came to check it out. Seeing the crying human it took its chance to confront him, eyeing the shield on his arm.

When arriving it saw as Cyrus seemed afraid of it. Not wanting to waste this chance it decided to attack. Seeing the shield it decided it best to try to disable its use by taking aim at the arm wielding it. When Cyrus hadn’t moved it had thought something may have been wrong, but when its attack landed a direct hit and saw Cyrus in pain, such thoughts vanished.

With his mind on the pain Cyrus was unable to see the goblin winding up for its next strike. Perhaps due to luck or sheer coincidence, as he flailed about in pain he had managed to move his left arm and thus block the second strike with the decorative shield.

Clang!

The shield deflected the dagger effortlessly as it continued its erratic motion as its wielder continued thrashing about. Hearing the sound of metal against metal Cyrus was able to momentarily bring some of his cognition back to what was happening.

Perturbed by its deflected strike the goblin stopped for a moment to see if anything was amiss. It worryingly looked around the chamber in fear of other humans who might have been lurking in wait.

Danger! Run! Danger! Run! Danger! RUN! RUN!!! Perhaps it was due to the pain of being stabbed, but once Cyrus saw the goblin distracted his body managed to act. Set on “flight” his body erratically began to run away.

Like an instinctual wild beast his body sparred nothing to escape. Under the effects of an adrenaline rush and his brain’s release of endorphins, the pain Cyrus was feeling before had been subsided considerably. Surviving was the only thing on mind.

Seeing its prey flee the goblin gave a low growl before giving chase. Unable to catch up to the nimble human it threw its bloodied dagger towards Cyrus. Impaling him in the calf muscle the human stumbled to the ground, the momentum from his running causing him to tumble a bit before landing on his back.

Seeing the goblin trying to reach for its dagger Cyrus attempted to kick the beast away. Unable to grab its weapon the goblin gave out an irritable sounding snarl before leaping atop him. With survival instincts still kicking in Cyrus had managed to move up the shield to block off the goblin from directly landing on him.

With his arm injured and the goblin’s surprisingly heavy weight on the shield Cyrus attempted to alleviate the situation by supporting the shield with his right arm. The goblin jerked around atop the shield, trying to move it away from its prey.

The fear of the goblin coupled with his adrenaline rush and fighting caused Cyrus’ body to feel as though it had been lit aflame. He could feel something inside him ignite with a passion, a burn that did not hurt him but felt strange nonetheless. It was something aroused by the situation, awoken through this struggle. The passion that burned in his soul was his own fighting spirit, brought forth by survival instinct.

Under this effect of fighting spirit his brain churned out thoughts as they endlessly gushed forth like a geyser. I don’t want to die! Weapon! I need a weapon! Without hesitation the mental link formed by the bond with the strange device once again showed its prowess.

The shield began to glow in a bright light before morphing into a seamless water-like puddle. The puddle of light stretched and skewed, reforming into a different shape. As the weapon took form its tip pierced through the unguarded flesh of the goblin that was atop it moments ago.

Everything seemed as though it were in slow motion for Cyrus. He watched as the shield lost its form, the goblin falling from its temporary nonphysical state. As the goblin descended the light began to reform from the device. Shooting straight like a missile, the reformed weapon began to take shape.

Cyrus watched as the bladed tip completely formed before impaling the goblin. With the weight of the goblin falling from gravity coupled with the outwards formation of the weapon, it dug through the goblin’s flesh like paper.

Without time to realize what had happened the goblin was unable to utter a single sound as the spearhead pierced through its right eye and straight into its brain. With a few small helpless grunts the spearhead that entered through its eye had exited out the back of its head, lifting the armor helmet with it as though mocking its uselessness. With its brain destroyed the goblin’s body slowly limped, twitching a bit before remaining motionless forever.

Blood dribbled down the spear, its warm touch slowly covering Cyrus’ left hand. With the battle over the adrenaline rush he had was beginning to wane. The weariness and pain that was being blocked slowly returned to him. However, such trivialities were of no concern to him right now.

“I…killed it…”

As the goblin was being impaled the sensation of flesh being pierced felt as though it were transmitted through the spear. Every spasm the goblin made, no matter how miniscule, was all felt by him. While it was in an act of self-defense the knowledge that he killed a sentient creature took a toll on his mind.

Even if it tried to kill him first there was still a sense of guilt. Sure he could joke about it before that it would be easy to do such acts if the perpetrator had it coming, but imagining and experiencing it were two completely different things. For Cyrus who had never had to kill anything of the sort before now, it was quite the traumatizing experience.

Even still he had to do it, he had to overcome it. If there was one goblin then there might be more. In fact there might be other creatures even more dangerous than goblins here. If they all acted like this one then he’s have to avoid them. If he couldn’t do so and had to confront them then he’d have to kill to survive. Kill or be killed. This was how his mind rationalized this, how he consciously tried to justify it.

Trembling, he tilted the spear away. With the goblin on the ground next to him he mentally called out to the device. Changing its form once again the spear morphed back into its original form, releasing itself from the dead goblin in the process.

Tearing off some fabric from his shirt Cyrus tied some around the stab wound on his arm as tightly as he could before looking down at the knife in him. Touching it sent a wave of pain, making his hand scurry away from it.

Knowing it had to be removed but lacking the resolve to pull it out Cyrus had a thought. Bringing the device to the dagger a familiar sensation struck him. Like what happened before the dagger split into fragments of light before being absorbed. With the dagger gone he quickly wrapped the wound like he had done on his arm.

With a trembling body and mind he slowly stood up. Pain sprang forth from his wounded leg. Using it as a reminder of what happened, a deterrent for pain, he mentally switched gears as he prepped himself for what lied ahead. Be it monsters or freedom all he could do was go forward.

Chapter End