“I’m telling ya Joe! There’s strange shit going on behind the labs! Big ol shadows lurking behind those big pine trees! The boys in there are cooking up some crime against God! What the fuck are we doing!”

“Are you on that stupid conspiracy shit again Greg? Come the fuck on! If the corporal hears this bullshit again we are both getting sent straight to the Canadian re-education camps!”

“Pretend all you want, I know you have seen the truth too! Unlike you I just don’t act like I am blind to sleep easier at night!”

-Pre-war recording recovered from the military training archives from the irradiated ruin of Port Hope. Original purpose of recording unknown, speculated to have been used to train officers for recognition of undesirable behaviour among USAPT troops.

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Cobalt had five major mutations besides the one inherited from her father’s blood. Her ability to shift the size of her claws and teeth, major enhancements to the senses of hearing and smell, armoured scales tougher than most bullets all brought together by her warp spasm which took all those previous traits and dragged them to the next level. But with the Fifth Step and entrance to the Wanderer’s Realm, she got to choose a change to her flesh of her own accord. And what she chose was not something that made her already fearsome muscles deadlier in combat, nothing that naturally synergised with her existing transformation or improved the function of her near peerless senses. She gave herself the ability to change the shape and hue of her skin, like the chameleon Spirit Beasts of ancient myth to alter her very colour and hide in plain sight. She had wanted to be able to go unseen when she desired to, to more easily escape her destiny in the centre of attention and perhaps flee from herself in the process.

How ironic it was then, that it was that very power that was helping her, and the only remainder of her old life, see in this desolate place. Bioluminescence was not something she had truly attempted in earnest before, usually it was only a side effect of the massive amounts of heat she generated when using her full power. But here in this forgotten cavern Spirits knows where, most of their gear and provisions scattered across the floor in varying states of disrepair, it was the mutation she had picked to better remain unseen that gave them some semblance of light. A faint yellow glow emanating from spots she had formed on unscaled sections of skin at roughly the brightness of candlelight.

Unfortunately said light also illuminated the many emotions wracking the scarred face of her only remaining friend. The boy’s cracked eyes, bloodshot from now-dried tears highlighting the silver scars in his irises, bore a familiar pain in them alongside feelings she neither could nor particularly actually wanted to decipher. Part of her was still relieved at this undeniable evidence that it was truly John in control, his parasite had stunted emotions at the best of times and always came off as uncanny. Another, equally loud, part screamed at her to shut off her light, to hide in the background, to neither see nor be seen in her shame. ‘You did this’, the darker thoughts repeated. Her losing control, her stupid suicidal charge, her utter failure to protect anything that mattered to her. The rational part of her reminded herself that there was effectively nothing that could be done then, and even it no longer mattered now.

She was never known to be ruled by rationality…

The silence was finally broken by John, who shuddered and let out a shaky breath from his nose, mouth and gills. “It’s… cold Cobalt…”

“It should be getting towards winter. At least if time moved like normal in… wherever we were.” She answered after too long of a silence to be comfortable. Still, she moved closer to John, the distance between them shrinking as he reciprocated the movement in turn.

John nodded, seemingly content in this facsimile of normal conversation, as he shifted himself besides her. “I held my Trials when the fungal groves were in full bloom… I suppose they are always held at that time for that reason. By now of course I imagine the mushrooms are all dried up.”

“The Fruit of Life is only a small part of the full organism. Most of it actually lives within the soil and roots of the plant, unassuming and too tiny for mortal eyes to even notice.” She explained, allowing herself a small smile as she let herself get reabsorbed into memories of long, boring lectures.

“Never took you for a botany fan.” John said with a small chuckle.

“I am not.” She answered honestly. “But… you don’t pick what sticks with you and what doesn’t.”

John nodded, looking into the dark of the cavern. Once there was seemingly an entrance to… wherever they were. But as they soon found out, whatever exits once existed were covered with rubble. The only obvious way out seemed to be the way they came from, and that was hardly on either of their lists of things to do. “Say, Cobalt, how deep do roots normally go?”

Cobalt gazed up at the pale, stringy fibres cascading from the damp cracks in the cave walls and squinted. “Honestly I have no clue… several dozen feet at least though.”

John continued to gaze at the cave walls, brushing his unruly grease-matted hair aside with his flesh and blood arm. “I was thinking, back in my time with the Rats we didn’t tend to go places with trees. But I never saw any roots far from the surface. Of course, I haven’t seen enough to truly know for sure, but given the fact we can breathe. We can’t be that far from the surface right?”

“Are you suggesting… we dig our way out?” Cobalt asked.

“Didn’t take you as the type to be scared of getting your hands dirty Col!” John scoffed, the small sign of humour bringing more joy to Cobalt than she expected.

“That- honestly I considered it too.” She admitted. “But I don’t know how stable this place is, for all I know it could collapse in on us in an instant.”

“I am well versed with cave-ins, let me remind you.” John said solemnly. “I can’t promise anything, but surely it’s better than doing nothing as we starve to death.”

“That- I can’t argue with.” Cobalt acquiesced. “Alright John, let’s see if you can avoid getting us crushed by a few thousand tons of earth and stone!”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

John scoffed. “Have some faith would you!”

The two of them made their way to the far wall, one that contained less rusted metal and more gnarled roots. John stared at his right arm in silent communion as the eyes along it flared open, and the limb warped into the shape of a pick.

“Is it… talking with you?” Cobalt asked.

“ARTOS is not gone.” John answered. “But I don’t hear them in my head, for some reason I have the feeling they came out the other side of that portal with us but… they don’t seem very talkative right now.”

“I don’t trust it…” She hissed.

“I- can’t blame you for that.” John sighed. Staring at his arm in an incredibly strange way, honestly in his shoes Cobalt would not have tolerated half the dox-shit that limb had pulled already. But clearly, she wasn’t the proud owner of a sentient arm, what did she know? Besides the fact that possession was far and beyond what any Relic cybernetic was meant to do, even for the kracking Fleshwelded Knights!

Instead of saying anything out loud, she settled for extending her claws. They were potent weapons, but the structure also doubled well for burrowing. Like the curved claws of wild Rattlebeasts or the massive scything blades of Maulers, what could carve through bone like rotting wood could do so with most lesser stones if she put in the effort. No more words were exchanged as together they meticulously moved away loose bits of earth and rock, the only sounds were the light clinking of their bodily digging implements against rock. A few times John’s strange ring came in contact with a small clump of gravel and absorbed it in a flash of light, that was… interesting… but neither were in the mood to actually inspect that with any care right now. Very slowly more and more of what they were going through, became what was recognisably compacted dirt as more and more roots began to invade where once loose stone dominated. But with that ray of hope came something else.

“Wait!” Cobalt called out as her ears caught something. John paused in his movements as she focused on the distant scratching sounds, diluted by what must have been a truly massive volume of soil, but undoubtedly something was digging above them.

“What is it?” John asked with concern as she put her ear up against the ceiling of their makeshift tunnel.

“There’s something digging in our direction. I don’t know who, or what even. For all we know it’s a hungry Spirit Beast looking for its next meal.

“But where there is something digging…” John trailed on, the implication obvious.

Cobalt’s claws extended once more, glimmering in her own bioluminescent light. “One way or another, we are close.”

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Grrkkn dug deep into the soil where the human artefacts were found, a process he had been repeating for the last few moons day in and out. The others of his tribe called him insane for his obsession, and perhaps so, for no other of the Forest Kin would wander near the human settlements during their migrations to the forest edge let alone actively seek out more even as their journeys took them deeper into the evergreen fungal overgrowth. They didn’t understand, it was like the drive that pushed a sculptor to seek out new scents and textures for their great art, he wanted to learn everything about the strange little creatures from beyond their world. Sure they were dangerous, he had heard no shortage of tales of their dangerous follies and the unhealing scars that still remain on the very world. But as were the Cousin Beasts tamed by the Hunter-Chiefs, just because they were of similar blood to the Forest Kin didn’t mean they didn’t often tear Kin to shreds for being careless around them! The only thing that made communion possible was a healthy understanding and respect. He had learned some of the tongue of the humans, as unnatural as it still was in his mouth. He had meticulously studied their customs and poured over every artefact exchanged during each rare instance of trade or offerings from the skittish villagers at the forest borders. But still, it wasn’t quite enough, to truly understand the humans he needed more!

Which is why when he had discovered his various scraps of maps fitted together to roughly overlap with the familiar territory of the Mother Forest indicating several sites of potential human historical significance he wasted no time in searching for the nearest one. The rest of his tribe could never understand, more interested in constructing their hollows for the winter than whatever new madness had gripped him next, and so he proceeded on this task alone. Admittedly, it was lonely, but this was his whole life, and the first pieces of rusted metal extracted from the soft dirt made his heart race so profoundly he needed to sit down and immerse his nose in calming resin. It wasn’t much, barely enough to make a spearhead, but it was proof there was something beneath! So here he was, day in and day out, digging at this pit instead of participating in the Great-worm hunts or sap harvests of the season. To survive he had to unfortunately trade some of his artefacts, bits of scrap metal and ancient plastics to be processed into spearheads and garments. It hurt his soul knowing nobody else in the tribe appreciated their historical significance like he did, but he knew if he could only keep digging he would find something much better. A promise of a true breakthrough.

Today though something felt odd in the air. In his fur, in his bones, there was a strange sensation. Something was going to happen today, he just knew. But good or ill only time and effort could tell. His ears picked up strange scratching sounds, not quite the slimy noises of digging Great-worms, but something much more solid. He realised that he recognised that sound, metal against rock. Metal… underground?

His fervour for digging redoubled itself, the shovel he had traded with a human village for a pile of Mother Fungus being pushed to its absolute limit as it dug through soil, stone and root with strength that it was simply not designed for. Ordinarily, his sentimental nature would never let him treat this precious tool so callously, but a certain madness overtook his mind, the kind of scholarly obsession the Elders warned cubs about in their ancient fables of the Old Times. The kind that brought low the humans and poisoned the world. With one final pulse of effort as the sound on the other side of the earthen wall grew louder and louder a crack was finally revealed, giving way to uncover a lengthy, thin cavern. Whatever he imagined before, Grrkkn was absolutely unprepared for what he saw now. For before him were two real humans, not only humans, judging by their strange features and unmistakable aura, these were humans on the path of becoming Spirit-kin! What were they doing so deep underground where there were no apparent entrances? How did they get here, or survive that long? Humans needed to eat right? Even the ones who embraced the Curse and changed into something else entirely.

He would figure that out later. For now, he took a deep breath and began speaking in well-practised Glish, the human tongue of the border villages in contact with the truly gargantuan tribe they called ‘Empire’.

“Hello. Come in peace! Want learn!” He said with excitement, the words straining unnaturally in his throat but otherwise coming out very well.

The two humans gawked in what he recognised as the human expression for shock, before the smaller male began to cough. The large pale female, who had employed some form of camouflage that up to now made her shape hazy and indistinct, rushed over to his side before similarly beginning to show signs of strained breath.

“Oh no! Spore too thick! You humans not live near Mother Woods, not prepared for her fury!” He exclaimed. “I get you something! Stay here! Go deep in tunnel, air not safe!”

The girl seemed to understand and nodded, at least he thinks that is how a nod went. In any case, he turned on his back and sprinted back to his den for the winter where he kept his finds and trades. This was an unprecedented opportunity to speak with some human Shamans, he was not to lose it now!