Cobalt was already growing tired of people assuming John was some sort of dangerous machine and evidently completely disregarding the obvious source of it stuck to his right side, and it had only happened twice. On the one hand, her idiot of a junior brother did charge headfirst into the cultivators so a rather unsavoury first impression was inevitable, even if she did agree that these arrogant pieces of human waste needed a humbling on top of the obvious danger they posed for the Toro Rojo crew and likely their new friends. On the other hand, while she understood the clearly uncanny and ambiguous nature of the body-snatching thing on John’s shoulder, that nobody quite seemed to understand, it made no sense to her why anyone would assume someone as far from the signature coldness of a machine as John was an automaton in disguise. She had heard rumours of course of the abominations wearing human skin on the East Coast, but surely even then the differences would be obvious right?
It didn’t matter right now of course, now that things had well and truly escalated about as far as she could have predicted. All that mattered now was holding them off so that hopefully the others could make good use of her warning, and figure out where to go from there. She was fairly certain she and John at least matched their foes in raw Cultivation, perhaps even exceeding them, but an unknown threat was still not something to take so lightly. With the variance of abilities Mutants could muster, especially ones with demonstrated psychic talent, there was absolutely no room for underestimating them.
Sadly, one of them pulled a trick that even she had no way to see coming or defend against. As the world warped and spiralled around her, she was left practically blinded, with an overpowering taste in her mouth drowning out all others besides the deafening volume in her ears, and her sense of smell diluted to uselessness. The signals between her senses and her brain were being directly tampered with, and faced with that she could barely stand let alone react to what came next.
There were sounds, colours, strange and distant feelings but what filled her mind the most was the taste of her own mouth, the taste of every minute particle in the air, overpowering and nauseating. She had no clue how long this effect would last if it had a duration at all, but in any case, if things continued like this she stood no chance. Pain blossomed into fiery flowers then changed to a deep chill and switched into an irritating itch at several points along her skin at once, some being from the impact of combat, others likely phantom illusions cast by her warped mind. To her, it was a distinction without a difference, a chaotic and unnavigable mess.
Except for one thing. That taste in the air. The mouthwatering flavour of a sinful temptation that her tongue was able to follow with wicked acuity. When her conscious mind lay paralyzed, instinct took over, and her jaws found soft flesh.
An addictive rush of pleasure soared to her head at the iron coating her tongue, her fangs easily slicing through reinforced muscle and bone as though it were the soft mash of a totato tuber. She had known this feeling before, but with everything else but her sense of taste rendered practically useless, there was nothing else she could focus on but that rush. A sweetness that would make the most finely smoked prime Dox cut taste like bitter nuclear ash in comparison. Even with her numbed perceptions, she felt the biggest grin crawl onto her face, and idly she snapped a few times for more before sanity managed to somehow find her again.
She needed to remember what she was here for. She needed to get her head back in the game. With a titanic push of willpower that felt simply wrong to her base instincts, Cobalt felt the Si pumping through her stomach straight into her meridians. The affinity for cannibalism was a side effect of the true mutation, her inherited trait from her father, the ability to absorb and process Si far more efficiently through the digestive tract than any others. Even with all else scrambled, a Cultivator’s ability to track the flow of the radiation in their own meridians was unmatched, and with the concentrated power of a Step 4 Mutant’s limb inside her even after burning so much of her cultivation during the fall of the Lead Cave she felt on the verge of a breakthrough.
John’s ability to adapt and achieve breakthroughs mid-combat was something she had always admired. If he could do that, a practical outsider to the world of Cultivation for most of his life, what excuse had she to not try?
She pumped her Si straight towards her brain, focusing on breaking through the fog over her senses. To grab onto the psychic mass coating her that she understood in theory, but never came close to in practice. She didn’t have it in her for the fine control necessary for true psychic talent, so she wasn’t aiming for that. What she wanted to shape in her brain was to make her mind as strong as her body, a thick armour rather than the freely flowing strings and ropes Magni and Aunt Cinnabar described them. Something that felt right for her, not just in the instant, but going forward for the rest of her life.
In such an uncontrolled environment it was frankly a miracle she didn’t immediately lose focus and collapse. Another pulse of psychic interference almost did it, causing her control to flicker for a moment inducing dangerous turbulence in her meridians so close to her brain she could feel the vessels pulsing in her head. There was something thrashing at her, moving her about, but with her senses so thoroughly ravaged it was downright impossible to know what was actually happening. So she was left with no recourse except to continue focusing inwards… until the fog started to part and a sudden clarity set upon her mind alongside an awareness of each part of her body. The regeneration of each of her cells, the movements of the Si inside her, and the energy maintaining her Warp Spasm. A feeling she could only describe as true enlightenment.
Soured somewhat by the truly oppressive aura she could all of a sudden sense above them, and the silence she was just now realising was unusual given the circumstance. A familiar power drowned all else, forcing her Si back into her core with a rush. Even had she not dispelled the psychic interference already it would not have survived this presence. Like she was once more standing before her father, no, beyond him. The Dragon Khan.
They hung suspended in the air upon wings of glass, a glassy blade in their hand. Their garb was made of richer stuff than even her own formal wear, glistening with jewels and ancient technologies, a mixture of silken threads, glittering gold and ruthlessly practical power armour. The dark skin of their brow contrasted with the glow of light from otherwise pale and featureless eyes, their facial features seemingly carved from stone in the image of human perfection. They had chosen to expend at least one of their Mutations on their appearance she realised, an act rarely chosen by those of true power, and when it was the will to forsake power in exchange for reaching one’s true self, it represented a truly rare breed of cultivator. The pieces clicked together in her mind, she had seen him before from a distance, vague recollections of years ago on official duty to the Capital. Jackson Kalu, the adopted son of the Emperor, heir apparent of the Jackalope Empire.
“My… my Prince! What are you doing here? Are you perhaps here to assist-” One of the men stammered as the Wretches fell to the floor, prostrating themselves so low if they were to go any deeper they would need to dig. A flare of power rushed forward, enough to singe even her scaled skin, and she could feel the frustration boiling beneath.
“The psychic stench in the air is foul. Meaningless conflict, spurred on by pettiness and hot-headedness.” They roared. Voice rolling thunder, like the shadow of a primordial god-beast. “If it wasn’t for the fact the fate of the Empire rested on four souls here today, I would not waste my time on such trivially disappointing matters.”
“Four souls, what do you mean my liege?” The man with the bloody tendrils, now hanging limp and useless to the side, asked.
She felt a small glow of energy as psychic light enveloped her and John, and immediately felt an ugly gurgle in her gut.
“Surely there has been a mistake! That one is a Homunculus!” The one sharing John’s skin tone accused, pointing a finger at the boy who barely seemed in any state to really stand up himself. A massive wound torn straight through his abdomen exposing organs and wire.
“Silence. I have not the patience to deal with such nonsense.” The Prince snapped, immediately knocking the two cultivators into silence. Despite their own words, however, he still seemed to look on with some degree of curiosity to the creepy eyeball-studded machine on John’s arm.
“Two minds in one body.” Kalu whispered just barely loud enough for her superb hearing to pick up. He then continued, louder and with full intent of having all around him hear. “No, this one is not a homunculus, the fact you speak so confidently on matters you know naught about speaks volumes on how this mess has even managed to occur.”
He then turned towards John and her, eyes blazing with fiery judgement. “That is not to say you two are exempt from judgement. You would have recieved the wrath of the Empire, insignificant as these two may have been, they are still loyal Cultivators that we already have far too few to spare. In the event of your triumph, you would be branded as enemies of the state, hunted down like rabid beasts, and for what?”
Stolen novel; please report.
“They wanted to take away the Toro Rojo from her crew…” John spat through coughs of blood.
“Toro Rojo… I see… well your dedication towards justice is certainly admirable. But what exactly was the plan here young man?” He continued. The incomplete mutation she had brute forced into her brain told her that the Prince was reading the undefended surface of John’s mind like an open book, though the exact mechanism behind the act eluded her. It was not hard to see, however, evidently, John found himself lacking in words.
“Well, if we stopped them here, maybe they would have time to get away. Me and Cobalt are strong after all. We could have handled them, I think.” He answered, some of the confidence leaving his tone.
“Maybe, but you did not look like you were winning. And against the inevitable force of a counterattack, labelled as traitors to the Empire and left without aid, would you have prevailed?” The Prince probed further.
“What does it matter? They weren’t going to listen! Should we have just stood aside like they wanted and let them do something that would destroy innocent lives?” John argued.
“Learning what battles to pick is a skill. One I see you have already been told many times by people you would trust far more than me. I know not of them besides the stray thoughts orbiting your brain, but I advise you to pay heed to their words.” The Prince chastised simply, before turning his attention to Cobalt. “And likewise for you. Do not think I have missed the heat burning in your own head. You walk a dangerous line, Daughter of the Lizard.”
“And what do you know?” She spat, despite herself. A stupid action, yet in that moment, her pride would accept nothing else.
“The boy is a fool, but he is an unwavering bullet, soaring from the barrel of a gun through the air unheeding of its direction. You on the other hand, you hide your emotions and thoughts well, but I need not a psychic gift to sense the conflict in you that plagues your every thought.” He called out, effortlessly taking her aback. She tried to argue back but bit her tongue, it would be useless to fight this battle. And more than that, she cannot so confidently just say he was wrong.
“Now then, you all are dismissed. I will not hear a word, and this… Toro Rojo… consider it a protectorate of the Empire. For whatever strategic importance your mission has, it is not worth pulling a prophecy out of its ideal configuration.” he ordered, clearly brooking no disagreement in his tone. Evidently, whatever complaints their recent foes had was overpowered by their common sense as they backed off with a series of platitudes and apologies she couldn’t bother to pay attention to. The Wretches particularly practically hobbling over, some of them exhibiting evident burns on their skin.
“Now, you came here with a group of four correct?” Kalu asked her.
She gulped despite herself, stumbling briefly on her words, before answering. “Y-yes. The leader of the Toro Rojo needed medical assistance, and they stayed behind to help.”
“Very well, I would like to meet them myself before I return to my previous duties. I admit, the memory of details in even my dreams fades quickly, and I am curious about the faces of those who hold such apparently anomalous significance.” Kalu mused, though Cobalt knew she would have greater luck moving Heaven herself than stopping the whims of someone so above her.
She gnawed idly at her cheeks enough to tear into flesh as she considered how Gorekin and Faith were going to handle this.
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Grrkkn had felt power before, true power. A thing that could only be compared to the forces of blizzards and spore-storms. And the new presence was… unfortunately… well within that short list. It smelled of lightning and glass, scraping by the surface of the sun itself. He was glad this human tribe was so well coordinated, even the youngest of them doing their part in admirably following his hasty instructions. Carving the intricate patterns into whatever they could actually carve onto their machine and even blocks of clay they hastily glued to the sides where they couldn’t. He didn’t actually know if it would do anything to hide against a power like that, but he knew from experience there was even less of a point actually running. You could scatter as fast as the nameless winds, but monsters like that were even faster.
In his haste, he had nearly missed the spores coming off his fur in dense clumps. Pulsing with vitality, the tiny fungal spores bloomed across his body like he was a fruiting pod. At first, he was a little worried about the humans around him, knowing they were not built for symbiosis with the seeds of the Mother Forest like his kin were, before he realised he had been secreting them for some time already by the point he noticed. And evidently, not one human had gotten ill.
Instead what happened was he felt a great sense of connection to all the machines in the area, the nascent mycelial network connecting him to the freshly carved runes and then to the great complexities of the machine. Every wire, every thread, so much more than his eyes could ever see, like the pulsing vessels of lifeblood in a body or the fathomless expanse of silky fungal threads that dominated the North. It was… beautiful. A thing of glory.
And more importantly, weak and rudimentary as it was, it gave him an understanding of how the inner workings of the machine worked and a feeling of how he could manipulate it. As they had said, the radiation-soaked core was not very useful as a primary power source for the engine due to the contradictory and chaotic mess of almost cancerous expansions over who knows how long.
“Hey, Gorekin… I am trying to supply your formations with power but I am not enough for all of this! What do I do?” Faith asked behind him as he experimented with expanding his senses further.
“Something interesting happen. Not sure if work, but wait. Think I can try.” He grunted.
Focusing his will into the belly of the machine, he connected several thin mycelial threads to the heart of the reactor core and began moving around the loose wiring to facilitate the spread towards the nearest carvings. Growth boosted by the radioactive energy, his spores rapidly bloomed and swelled in size around it achieving his first goal with surprising speed even for him. Squeezing his eyes closed and much more importantly placing his hands around his more sensitive nose, he focused harder and extended some of the new growth towards a series of incongruous structures correlated with the primary engine…
Some of the humans spoke something in a language he had no knowledge of, but given their shock and excitement, it clearly worked. Something further confirmed by the rumbling of activity below him.
“Gorekin! I felt the formation activate… but what did you do? I thought this thing couldn’t really move?” The human Faith asked.
“Something connect with fungus-hair.” he responded as best he could. “Not sure how long could last. Tell to move now if want move ever.”
Indeed, for all the benefits the rich food supply had for his spores and their germination… it was too much for how thin and young they were. Already he could feel them start to burn and char.
Understanding exactly what he was talking about, he heard Faith walk off and inform the members of the Toro Rojo tribe about the situation. Without another moment of waiting the great machine started to move.
It felt a little strange. He had never ridden a Cousin Beast before, which he imagined was the closest analogue to this. Even being thrashed around by the great beast that was chasing Faith was distinctly different from this. Not quite moving under his own power. Not quite being thrown around either. It was at once fascinating and a little disappointing, he wasn’t sure what he expected of course, but probably something more interesting than this. Still, they were moving faster than he could manage at a sprint, and that was all that mattered.
Keeping his mind focused on the mycelium, attempting to reinforce it to the best of his ability, Grrkkn did not have the time to pay attention exactly to what was going on outside. Still, as time passed further and no attack came to smite them he dared to hope they were out of the range of that impossible predator that had suddenly appeared like a mythic beast from the White Wastes. A notion that in hindsight was practically inviting retribution from the Gods and Spirits.
The world slammed to a literal and metaphorical halt as one of the fibres burned out. Momentum carried the machine onwards, but its movements were no longer as controlled, even if they could recover from this they would inevitably slow down as power was unevenly distributed through the makeshift network of living wire. He focused all his attention on repairing that, an action that proved to be a mistake as more burned away where he wasn’t paying attention. Growth, accelerated beyond normal limitations, quickly turning cancerous or dying in a spectacular show of rapid decay. All at once the great machine started to careen at a dangerous angle…
And it stopped all at once. A fact almost more terrifying than a crash, especially given the power enveloping them all. Ah, so this is what it felt like to be prey caught by a hunter? He could feel his heart in his upper throat.
He could only await whatever fate lay in store as a winged shadow cast over them from the open observation hatch. Prismatic lights shining downwards from a humanoid shape above.
“Clever clever, and here I thought you weren’t going to move. I can sense something very interesting inside.” A powerful voice called from within the walls of his own mind. “Calm down now. Whatever threat you thought I was, I assure you I am not. After all, why would your enemies waste their time sending someone as powerful as me?”
“Faith… Gorekin… I request your presence at soonest convenience. We would all want this behind us sooner rather than later, after all.”