The Professor jolted awake to an unholy amount of pain in his chest, to the warm hum of machinery against his aching back, and with an ink-black hand covering his mouth that he couldn't feel. He couldn't feel the hand, not his mouth. He wished it was numb because the taste of bitter iron was strong on his tongue.
There was also the fact that every breath felt like dozens of iron nails were stabbed into his sternum only to be ripped out on exhale. But Morgan was alive, so he had that going for him.
[Don't move, don't scream, it's-]
[Ego, I promise with every fiber of my being I could never mistake you for anyone else.] He said with a mental snort as he looked around and found the southern beach shrimpless. There were several more wet impact craters than he recalled, but he knew just who to ask. [What the hell happened?]
Removing their hand, the Monk walked into view and dropped onto their rear without disturbing the sand. They gave him a big grin that didn't reach those ghostly eyes.
They snickered, but their amusement sounded forced even to his groggy brain. [That's what I wanted to ask you. From my perspective, you just… I guess 'froze' would be the best description. After the Soul attack hit you, it was like time stopped for only you for a few seconds. I couldn't even talk to you and tried to keep the Beast away.]
The Monk trailed off, embarrassed by how seemingly ineffective their efforts were.
[Eh, don't worry about it too much.] The Professor tried to console. [I'd probably be dead if you didn't get me to yell some sense back into me.]
He told them what had happened from his end: how just looking at the Essence move locked him into a cycle of irrational fear and how their contribution helped him establish an apparently effective defense.
[Hee-hehehe! You know what?] Ego genuinely laughed. [I'm starting to think Fate has found you to be a particularly fun chew toy! But since we're on the topic of good news, let's keep it going. First, you've only been out cold for four to five minutes after taking a direct hit.]
[Needed the power nap.] He said with a verbal shrug, as a physical one would be painful. [Honestly, I still do.]
[In case you didn't realize it, you're sitting against the generator.]
[The hum really soothes the mind, kinda like a white noise machine.]
[And Shrimpzilla returned to the sea shortly after putting you to bed.] Ego placed their arms within their sleeves, and Morgan could hear the phantom clacking of Mala beads within. [Now, do you want to see the bad news?]
[See?]
On que, the Spirit disappeared only to manifest some ways away. They picked up a piece of driftwood and projected, [I've been experimenting, so I know what to expect. Please don't move a muscle, regardless of what happens.]
[Understood.]
*Snap* They broke the wood over their knee and instantly returned to his side before the wood hit the sand.
*Splash!* Actually, those pieces would never finish falling because a water pillar shattered them into splinters.
[Interesting.] Morgan chuckled. [Did you teach the Beast any other tricks?]
[Not really.] They sat back down and returned to fidgeting with the beads. [But if I break them too often, it'll come back to find out what's making all that noise.] Ego paused suddenly, their brows shooting up. [Oh, I almost forgot to mention some more good news. I know why Shrimpzilla only targets you. Well, I have two ideas, but the second is more suspicion than theory.]
[Always tell someone the crack-pot theory first; it'll make the other theory reasonable by comparison… Aw man, my shirt.]
Morgan stared down at a large, angry red mark blossoming on his skin. Which was particularly frustrating since he didn't need to remove his shirt to see it thanks to the massive hole. The Battle Shrimp punched with so much force it literally burned a hole through the clothes and singed the skin. Once again, the Earthling lost more clothes that could never be replaced.
[I'm sorry about the loss of your 5th black t-shirt.] Ego said with what did not sound like honesty. [We'll have to find you some real- I mean to say, some appropriate robes when we enter the Capital. Returning to the topic of our crustacean problem. Well… I think it hates Cultivators.]
The Professor looked down at his destroyed shirt and then to the Spirit.
[What makes you say that?] He deadpanned.
[To start with,] Ego said, a twinkle in their eye. [Our Beast has two hand imprints on the shell covering its upper back. I saw them when it went around looking for you after the knockout blow. They're fresh too; you can see cracks opening up when it turns its top half too quickly.]
If the ecologist could've afford smacking himself right then, he would.
Damn it, the man ran up the creature's back, for god's sake; how could he have missed that?! Armed with that information, they could have ended the fight long before things got so desperate. Now, whatever plan they cooked up would have to be possible while injured, unable to make a speedy retreat, and without Qi. What little of the green Prana energy Morgan had left kept him from passing out, and it would take too long to recover a usable amount with Breath.
[Assuming it wasn't trying to serve a personal vendetta.] The Scientist grumbled, showing no hint of self-loathing. [What was the other theory?]
[Morgan, you shouldn't blame yourself.] The Monk chided, seeing right past the monotone. [Who would have thought to look at solid armor plates for a weak point? That's like looking for fruit in the Arctic.]
[Meh.] He grunted, unconvinced.
[My other theory is that it's almost blind and deaf above water.] Ego sighed in surrender before frowning and correcting themselves with a wave. [Blind, as in it can't see well above water. But, and I know this sounds crazy, I think the Beast is like a Predator.]
He stared at them blankly. He understood the almost deaf part, as the Shrimp never reacted to any sound save for the sharp sound of breaking wood. This made some sense for a Beast species with a close relationship with trees. The other half…
[...Oh? Ohhh.] Morgan projected, finally understanding the reference. [You mean the movie. You think Mike Shrimpson can only see body heat because, as a Spirit, you lack any endothermic reactions. Hmm. That is a reasonable understanding of the data observed.]
[Thank you, but it is mere speculation at the moment. However, it also explains why Shrimpzilla didn't finish you off.] Ego pointed out with an aw-shucks tone. [You landed against the solar generator, and the warm heat it produces is acting like camouflage, hiding you from its aquatic protector.]
[Uh-huh.] Morgan muttered noncommittally. [Tell you what, give me a minute to think it over.]
[Alright, but we've almost been here for half an hour, and sooner or later, Momo will come looking for us.] The Spirit grimaced at the thought. [The second she sees you, she'll throw a fit and pick a fight she can't win.]
Morgan nodded grimly but put aside the fear and more than a touch of fatherly pride to mull over the implications of the Spirit's blind theory. Below the salty waves, the Beast's compound eyes likely had no issue observing the environment and picking out aquatic intruders and prey alike. Leaving the sea, however, its vision likely became incredibly near-sighted as light behaved differently in air than water.
Everything became a blurry mess whenever it needed to surface, so the species likely relied entirely on a different way of sensing the world when defending their tree. So he tested dozens of ideas against the data observed so far, the whole while fidgeting with his hair by slapping a dread against the-
Like a storm over a mountain's peak, the disorganized rainfall of observations began congregating into focused channels of shared characteristics. Morgan's interactions with the Beast were fairly standard, where each party reacted directly to the actions of the opposing side. When he attacked or made a move towards the generator, Shrimpson responded. However, every interaction with Ego always contained a third element: their multiple uses of driftwood, moving the generator, and tossing the battery. Consistently, the Shrimp never took an interest solely in the Spirit.
Going a step further, Morgan found that the only subjects who drew a sight-only response were the generator, the battery, and… himself.
The Scientist's blue and brown eyes momentarily grew wide in sudden realization before he turned painfully to regard the machine.
Could it really be something so simple?
He, figuratively, ran the numbers several more cycles. However, the math was sound.
[Holy shit, I think you're right.] He half snorted, half laughed. [Mike Shrimpson really is blind.]
[I know,] Ego chuckled with more than a touch of pride. [It's hard to believe it can't see us in the traditional sense, especially with such massive peepers on-]
[You know the body heat part of your theory is entirely wrong, right?] The Scientist chuckled, cutting them off before the bit could go any further.
[Oh?] They challenged, their arms folding defensively inside the sleeve. [To quote you: Care to share with the class?]
[In the first place, if the Beast could see infrared light, aka body heat, well enough to fight effectively, it would notice my internal temp against the machine.] He nudged a shoulder against it. [It's warm but nowhere near hot enough to hide me. It'd be like painting orange on a red background.]
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[...I didn't think of that.] The Spirit pouted.
[True, but your theory did get me thinking about those gemstones Shrimpson has for eyes, and your idea got me thinking outside the box. Eventually, I got to ponder the different ways animals sense their environment. And I'm convinced I've uncovered how Elemental Battle Shrimps operates on land.]
[Again. Care to share?]
[Well,] A corner of his mouth twitched as a smile almost formed. [Do you remember any documentaries I've watched on Earth stingrays?]
[Sadly, no.] The Spirit suddenly wouldn't look him in the eye. [This may come as a shock to you, but I may have skipped over any of the educational content you considered media.]
The Scientist scowled at the heathenous Monk, but now was the time for scolding. Not when there was a planning to be done.
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In minutes, the beach had changed noticeably from the messy stretch of sand the duo had found not even an hour earlier. Now, the location resembled an abandoned construction yard for dame building beavers.
Within a three-meter range around the solar generator, there were now large piles of driftwood that the Spirit had managed to reach and relocate. All save for four of the driest sticks, which he directed two to be placed as close to the shore as possible while the last two lay with Morgan's own range of effect. However the Professor had not been idle while Ego prepared the battlefield.
Unseen to all but him, Morgan had ordered his Mind Foundation into action in preparation for the third Technique. The Bloodline displayed four floating clumps of vaporous blue energy, each containing roughly a twentieth of his maximum Mana pool. Two floated over a wood pile on either side of him; the others orbited just above him.
While he'd like to have more, passively maintaining even this many simultaneously was already a strain on his Mind. Each chunk of Mana was willed into the shape of an arrow, the kind one would see from an ancient rhythm game often found in gaming arcades.
Now, could this design be a direct ripoff from the beloved franchise?
Perhaps. Honestly, who but Morgan could say for sure?
Besides, the nearest Earth lawyer was likely hundreds of thousands of light years away from Olympia... He hoped.
[Show time.] The Spirit projected from behind the injured Mortal, their voice a cocktail of anticipation and fear.
*Snap, Snap*
After breaking the driftwood near the water, Ego's blazing aura of Essence manifested between where the two lone sticks were. Now, it was only a matter of-
*Splash!*
Morgan flinched as an unseen water pillar—he suspected the Move to be Bubble-Shot but with salt water as the medium—crashed onto the beach. Without delay, Ego tossed him a third piece before running towards the tree line, final stick in hand. He broke his stick in half, keeping all hand movements as small as possible.
*Snap*
Like clockwork, the morning air filled with the sounds of water dripping and sand scraping as the Battle Shrimp came ashore to investigate. Just as the Monk reported and the data promised, the Spirit Beast scuttled right past his openly slumped form without any hint of notice. It faced the generator, its Prana-illuminated antennas whipping about in all directions, and it blindly felt around the area for whatever had made the noise.
Holding a stick half between thumb and forefinger as one would a bar dart, he willed a Mana arrow to rotate so it pointed forward before ordering the energy construct to infuse into the wood. Immediately enveloping it in a swirling shroud of blue, the energy appeared to eternally surge forward without ever traveling any distance. An effect almost identical to a spinning barber's pole.
However, the Professor kept the hyperactive Prana on a tight leash, not allowing the Tech to trigger even after he deactivated the Bloodline.
[Do it.] Morgan projected, taking aim.
*Snap*
In a knee-jerk reaction, Shrimpson turned to face where the Spirit stood, exposing that damaged upper half. Barely noticeable were two dinner plate-sized indents in the rough shape of humanoid hands; the points where the fingers ended were especially deep. It was there where the crushing grip of the unknown Cultivator managed to crack the hard shell and by twisting its carapace, forced those wounds to open. When jagged lines of pale white flesh started appearing, Morgan chose the widest crack and triggered the Technique Rush.
His previously inert stick suddenly shot forward from his loose grip at speeds faster than the Harpy's own feather darts. Cracking free-form telekinesis was still beyond him, but what Rush lacked in fine control, it made up for in raw power. The Scientist didn't have the resources to measure how many newtons of force he could accelerate objects. However, in testing, an arrow containing 70% of his Mana could accelerate the SUV to almost 100 kilometers per hour, even while the car was parked.
*Thwip*
[Bullseye.] He reported as Shrimpson silently reeled in pain as the driftwood slipped between the shell gap, stabbing and burying over half its length into vulnerable Beast flesh. [Infusing the second arrow now.]
Bringing back the Bloodline, he made a replacement Rush arrow while ordering the second arrow above him to point at the island before directing the Mana to infuse into the stick still protruding from the shell. Like a hummingbird in flight, his arrow zipped and weaved towards the target.
Once shrouded in blue energy, the Shrimp's Foundations were filtered out, leaving only an obvious glowing weak point for the Professor's enhanced vision to display. Straining his concentration, all three of the remaining arrows started pointing at that massive thorn and began orbiting above the Beast's silhouette.
[Let's start off slow.] He announced, and Ego's Essence highlighted avatar manifested beside the pile of sticks to Morgan's left. [Single shot.]
*Snap*
In one swift motion, they broke another stick, threw both halves so the pieces would land behind the already turning foe, and then relocated beside him.
*Thwip*
The nearest Rush arrow infused into one of the falling pieces, and this time, it accelerated immediately towards the weak point, slamming the embedded splinter deeper into Shrimpson. Again, the antennas shot out in retaliation, but it struck at the empty space Ego had just been—or rather, where the last sound it heard originated from. Its poor hearing was all the monster could rely on now that the duo understood its dependency on electricity.
Objects containing electricity, like the generator and battery, give off a powerful field that likely resembled what an elemental Jambu tree and its fruit produced. Biological creatures like Morgan also generate their own low-frequency electric fields, but with a high enough sensitivity to these fields, Shrimpson could fight without much issue.
Until today.
Now, the foe had to deal with a non-biological entity, a foe camouflaged by a powerful electric field and wooden projectiles that may as well be invisible ice picks.
[That's a hit.] Ego reported flatly as they found success just as bitter-sweet as he did.
[Then,] Morgan sighed as another chunk of Mana extracted itself from his Mind. [Open fire.]
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If the Elemental Battle Shrimp had been fully Sapient, it would be able to comprehend just how shitty its day had gotten. Not that recent life for the displaced Spirit Beast hadn't already been a collection of ever-growing misfortunes already.
Shrimpzilla, though it didn't have the individuality to call itself that, was kidnapped by the two-legged creatures that plagued the shallow sea in which it was recently born. Like so many other hatchlings, it was torn from its electric Jambu tree. Forced to endure days confined in a small container that its senses could not pierce. When it was finally set free, the Jambudvīpa native found itself far from its waters, far from its tree.
Then, a new Two Legs, taller than the rest, attacked Shrimpzilla. The Beast fought back with every tool in its arsenal, winning many times. Ultimately, it lost as the determined Two Legs refused to stay dead or run away. However, the creature did not eat Shrimpzilla or challenge it again. Instead, the Beast soon found itself free in a new sea, this one unfamiliar and too deep.
Now, after finding a new tree and having just run off another troubling Two Legs, Shrimpzilla was under attack by something even its eyes could not see. It could hear the cracking of wood, so it knew something was stalking it. Yet when the Beast struck at a sound, there was nothing there, and pain flared where the tall Two Legs hurt it days before. Time and time again, the cycle repeated itself until Shrimpzilla could take no more.
Its instincts screamed that without a foe, there wasn't anything to attack; even using the Move passed down from the Ancestor would be a waste of energy.
Accepting that, Shrimpzilla concluded that it was time to go search for a new home, a new tree.
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With grim expressions and heavy hearts, the Mortal and Spirit watched the Beast flee from what must have felt like an assault from literal ghosts.
Just as the Elemental Battle Shrimp retreated into the Olympia Sea and threatened to escape his Mind's range, the Professor triggered the tenth use of Rush. His action was not out of cruelty but came from mercy.
*Thwip*
The stick previously embedded in the Spirit Beast tumbled through the air and landed in the sand behind them, one end slick with blood.
"There," Morgan said aloud after dismissing Perception. "So long as the wound doesn't get infected, Shrimpson should be fine after its next molting… Or with time. Whatever comes first."
"That's good to hear." Ego admitted in equal parts relief and exhaustion before pointing at something half buried in the wave licked section of the beach. "But something tells me that's not something we could say about our battery."
Either during its initale retreat or the most recent one, the Beast had discarded its spent battery. Knowing the power cell was advertised as durable and watertight, the Scientist made to retrieve it right then and there. Completely relieved he did not have to go through the arduous process of creating one from scratch. But as the thought crossed him, the choice of what to do next was made for him. For them both, really.
A flash of light white strong enough to stand out even under a sunny morning caused the duo's heads to snap their heads to the far right. After 30 days of total isolation, neither of them could believe it. Traveling from South to North, and having almost passed Lamplight Isla unnoticed, were three distant shapes that almost looked like-
"Ships! Morgan… Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Ego gasped and clutched at his Bubble-Shot bruised shoulder. "If there are ships, there are people! People who know where the Capital City is!"
"Don't start popping the confetti just yet." Morgan frowned as he pointed the hand wearing the jade ring at the other. "This could be a pod of Beasts like the last time. So before we lose our minds over a Nessie sighting, let's take a closer look. Exitus."
*Thunk*
"Ow." He grunted after the pair of binoculars exited the Dimensional Ring a meter above his head and clonked him. "How do I forget this thing is busted every time?"
Ever since the time of the ceremony, the Artifact Eris had gifted them had started malfunctioning. Its ability to store was just as dependable as ever; however, removing said items from storage was a different story. Whenever he tried, the item would appear randomly within a meter of him and never where it was aimed. In fact, the items had a suspicious habit of landing on him.
"Who cares about a broken ring?!" The Monk asked, catching the binoculars before they hit the sand and shoving them onto his face. "Hurry up and look before they get too far!"
Snatching the tool from the excited Spirit, the Professor focused the lens until the distant shapes came into focus. The details were difficult to make out, but instantly, he recognized that these were no Beasts. These were ships, or at least one was large enough to be called that, while the other two resembled something the size of a jet ski. The water crafts moved in a triangular formation, with the larger craft and one smaller craft trailing after the third.
"I count four people." Murmured Ego as they tapped into his sight. "The two on the bigger boat and the one on the tiny boat beside them all have the same gray clothes. While the person steering the front boat has something like a purple cloak on. This group must be guards from the city out on patrol! Well, guards aren't ideal, but maybe we could follow them-"
"Ego, I don't think those are guards on patrol." He cut them off as he realized the leading boat's occupant's vivid cloak kept turning back at the others far more than should be necessary. "Look closely at Purple Cloak. Every time the others close the distance, they look back but never slow down. Call me paranoid, but it almost looks like Purple Cloak is being-"
Now it was the Professor's turn to be interrupted, for another flash of blinding white forced him to blink away tears. By the time his sight recovered, smoke trailed after the leading boat. He pulled the binoculars away, and they stared at each other.
"The grays are chasing the purple one?" The Monk asked, their tone telling Morgan exactly what they felt about that. "It looks like they're all heading to Bizzaro Swamp. We need to get there before they rip each other apart."
"Then we'll have to get to North Beach fast. Good thing I bought the all-terrain model. Intrare." He stored the generator and binoculars before pointing his ringed hand above him and scowled up at the blue Heavens. "If this ring works like it should, I'm going to be pissed. Exitus."
As hoped, the ring malfunctioned, and his car popped into existence directly between them and the water.
*Crunch*
Huh... The Scientist might be mistaken, but that almost sounded like something impossible to replace and annoyingly hard to build was crushed under under a fucking tire.
But he was being silly; what were the odds?
"Oh no. Uhh… I think it landed on the…" Ego struggled to say, but Morgan had already begun to stiffly stalk over to his hanging lab coat, cursing about faulty alien technology, trickster spirits, and ruined clothes the whole way.
Quietly, the Monk began chanting for the Bodhisattva of mercy to help in this hour of need. Whether the prayer was meant for the newcomers or themself, Ego wasn't sure.