They say a person never truly dies until they are forgotten. For one such as himself who had done everything he could to avoid public eye ever since the incident, he sure hoped someone out there would remember him.
Hopefully, they could tell him more about himself.
It has started out slowly, a hole in his memory there, a half-finished song there.
But it got worse. So much worse. Like poking a hole in a ship the gap only grew as water widened the hole. It was terrifying, knowing, feeling, yourself becoming empty. Becoming less than you once were.
If this was what Alheimzer was like then he felt really bad for those weird and wrinkly advanced people. It must suck being born with white hair and failing memory.
He didn't know how much time he had spent, lost all but the vaguest idea of the concept in fact, but after what seemed like a really long time he finally got the taste of purple out of his mouth.
The light surrounding him only grew with every moment. What a nice shade of tuna fish. Oh! Look! The black spots are coming back along with colorful dots.
How nice.
Wait, no, that was bad wasn't it? He must have forgotten to keep squeezing his squishy ball inside of his body.
...Wait why was he squeezing it?
Right. Blood. He needed...Needed...Oxytocin! No, that wasn't quite right...Oxiclean...? Man he gave up, Oxymoron or whatever it was.
Ops, there goes his sight. Man, he liked seeing too, now what would he do? None of his 5 senses were available to him anymore.
Suddenly a wave of clarity came over Alan.
That was far too close for comfort. He made a note to himself to avoid crossing those wires again. He needed to at least save some core of himself and remember his task.
So he imprinted a directive in his mind, a greater subconscious want, need, to destroy the bugs, along with other things.
On the bright side, he learned how to avoid sending his body into a spasm or seizure. Punching himself in the face and almost shitting his pants once was more than enough, thank you very much.
And so within what passes for a large intestine for the giant alien, a young displaced boy would try his hardest to not accidentally turn himself brain dead or spontaneously combust.
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Finally.
He thought he would've gone insane if it took even a minute longer.
Imagine being completely deprived of all your senses along with a constant panic attack that never ends.
Ironic since he barely even remembers why he was panicking.
Something about... thingies... Big things? Small thingies? He wasn't sure. Just that there was a lot of them and he had to kill them before they laid more eggs. Eggs... Chickens? Maybe he was looking for chickens.
Well, no point waiting around.
His body levitated before it raised its arm. There was no sign, no glowing light or build up. One moment he was simply pointing his fingers, the next half of the monster that had given him so much trouble previous was gone.
It was not blown up, there was no blood or fire, it was a simple erasure of existence. Broken down to the smallest of atoms before scattered across the wind.
If I was a chicken... where would I be?
... Thinking was too hard. He'd know it when he found it. With a mental shrug, he flew away.
Thankfully his aimless flight bore fruit when his target had chased after him. A vague sense of familiarity and an unexpected amount of loathing took over.
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How annoying, won't these assholes shut up?
He could've simply crushed them with his mind or ripped them limb from limb, but that would be far from enough to get rid of this itch he felt in his heart whenever he saw them.
Time to take things close and personal.
As he landed on the ground he was instantly mobbed. He didn't recognize these at all, although frankly he couldn't remember or recognize almost anything besides how to use his powers and an urge to find and eliminate these "chickens".
Said chicken was tall. At least taller than himself by a good amount. 7 ft tall, six clawed hands, and covered in a shell with deadly looking spikes. Like a twisted demonic knight, it charged at him along with a platoon of followers.
He charged right back with arms glowing with pure concentrated power. With a bit of focus, it extended outwards and sharpened.
Psionic Blade
It didn't cut flesh and bone so much as shredded the bonds between molecules holding whatever was stupid enough to block his path.
He diced the unfortunate warrior in front of him before using its decapitated head as a cannonball, plowing through the stomach of another attempting to get him in a cheap shot.
Ranged attacks were rendered completely useless as he could simply shift their directions or toss one of their own in the path as counter missiles.
Huh, so that's what it looked like when you turned a chicken's insides into outsides. Neat. For something so ugly they sure had made a pretty shade of red smeared on the ground.
Eventually, he grew bored of simply slaughtering them and decided to find the most creative or interesting way to kill them. Could these Chickens even feel 'fear'? He wanted to find out.
Fun fact, Chickens had 5 hearts. 3 main one located in their upper torso, and two auxiliary ones at their pelvis near their spines.
You had to destroy all three main ones to kill them. Even then, if the other two were relatively intact it could still survive quite some time! That had been a surprise, almost as much as when one of the warriors tried to punch him in the face when he had left its decapitated body alone.
Teleporting its entire innards outside was pretty funny. Especially when the dumbass tripped over his own guts.
Oh, look! It was another of the big Chickens! He hadn't seen one of those for a while. Normally they send a whole bunch at him at once, but it seems even they can't keep up pace with him. Sending new ones as they were made. This one looked particularly strong and large! Its shell also seemed a lot thicker with sharp spikes.
How neat.
Looking to his left he pulled a white hill from the distance towards.
As he lifted it up however the innocent hill revealed its gruesome contents. It was a perfect sphere, but one made of countless corpses of the aliens. Their mangled forms preserved perfectly as the blood had long since drained and been washed away by the snow.
With a mischievous grin more fitting on a child about to play a prank, he closed his fist, and the giant celestial body made of the dead acted in sync. Bloody rain fell upon the battlefield, drowning and crushing those unfortunate enough to be directly beneath it.
Finally satisfied with his work he turned back towards the charging beast. He stuck his tongue out and closed one eye, then taking a pitcher's stance he tossed the mountain-sized moon.
If you have ever seen a kid hit by an 18 wheeler, then you might be able to imagine the scene that occurred as the Behemoth tried its best to stop the attack.
"Fetch boy!"
Alan didn't know what the hell the phrase meant, but it felt right in the situation.
Suddenly he felt something prod his mind. Before he could figure out, what it was much less stop it, it turned into a tsunami of thoughts and sensations drowning him
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Impossible.
This was impossible! How could a child do such damage to the swarm? How could such a small creature be capable of such power? A single lowly creature, some primitive primate barely qualifying as sentient life, could match the combined might of the Swarm? Granted she and her brood were but a minuscule part of the collective. Skin cells clinging to an infinitely greater entity, but she should've been more than enough to consume this galaxy to and to the great Swarm!
How could one mind, one soul, match the countless thousands she had thrown at him?
Where did he get such power? Sure, he was a mighty warrior before, but never had he previously shown such strength. Days of continuous fighting surely had weakened him! She saw with her own eyes his haggard and broken form as he desperately fought against her minions. That was no mere act, couldn't be!
It was impossible to kill him with normal methods. She had to get rid of him before he stopped playing around and decided to end her. Running from him was impossible, she felt the Psychic pulse he had given off, he would be able to detect her halfway across the world and she was far from being able to create anything able to traverse space in their current condition. She needed more time.
Time he wouldn't give her.
Taking a gamble she decided to attack him while he was still careless and had his guard down. The source of his greatest strength and weakness.
His mind.
While she sent her greatest warriors to buy even a second more she focused. The entire hive structure she was in glowed with a bloody crimson as the collective Psionic energy of millions of minions followed into her with the Hive, an organic and living alien itself, as a catalyst.
She observed him through the eyes of her children. Countless eyes, even more frame of reference, until she saw her chance. The filthy little ape had focused on the monolith he made out of the corpses of her offspring.
She seized the opportunity with a vice grip in all her six arms.
She forcefully made a connection between them before pushing the collective energy directly into him. Surely no singular mind could withstand such immense power?
As if one was trying to download the entirety of the internet and every game in existence with an iPhone they were trying to overload his brain and fry it.