Breakfast was…bread?
The question mark was primarily because Otto didn’t know what it was. It looked like a croissant with some kind of fruit filling, but it melted in his mouth every time he took a bite. The texture was, frankly, a disaster to his Earth sensibilities. He expected to bite into a pastry and instead it turned into pudding the moment it was submerged in the heat of his mouth. The filling was roughly what he expected though; he couldn’t pin down the fruit, but it was sweet and tasty, so that was nice.
He woke up earlier than everyone else, more out of a lack of being able to sleep than real rest. As such, the cafeteria was empty other than him. He only knew it was morning from the digital clock in his room, a copy of which was sitting on each table in the cafeteria.
It wasn’t staffed, instead operating on a self-service basis. There was a long bar filled with various breakfast foods, some familiar and some not. Most looked like something he would find back home, but with a wrench thrown in. Eggs with yolks that were rings instead of a blob in the center, bacon that smelled like flowers, weirdly melty pastries, and more. It was more than a little unnerving, but he tried sampling a little of everything to find something he liked. So far, the pastries were best: the eggs tasted like chalk, and the bacon tasted like flowers. He wasn’t sure what he expected.
There were a few tables scattered around. They were bolted to the ground and made of sturdy metal, which had gotten a little cold. He was thankful for the clothes he found in the wardrobe, which fit better than anything he had ever worn before. They were extremely bland, which he was glad for. Monochrome shirts and pants, they were warm, comfortable, and free. He even wore a pair of the tabi’s on his feet, and even though he thought they looked strange, they were comfortable.
Otto’s previous outfit was currently stashed under his bed. He hadn’t trusted the automatically cleaning wardrobe the researchers had pointed out, so he tucked them there for safe keeping. It wasn’t because he had any strong feelings towards the clothes themselves, but more out of what they represented. He didn’t want to lose his one connection back home because the wardrobe malfunctioned and burnt them to dust.
He chewed slowly on a piece of toast that had the texture of beef jerky, feeling like a cow with cud. It tasted pretty good though, and he was occupied with other thoughts.
“Leviathan’s Mass. Abyssal Body.” He muttered, looking at his class screen. He had been flipping through it for the past several minutes, to no help for his biggest issue.
“How do I use these?” He wondered. There was no user’s manual for who knows what reason, and it wasn’t instinctive. He felt the same as he always had; there was no new button for him to press that said ‘Leviathan’s Mass,’ as useful as that would be.
One was passive, so presumably it was already on, all the time, but even that wasn’t helpful. If it was always on and yet he felt no different, what did it do? Could he turn it off? What triggered it?
Too many questions, and he was probably too stupid to figure it out on his own. At the same time though, he was reluctant to ask any of the Jarrans for help. They seemed…nice, but revealing his class details felt personal, for some reason. Besides, they knew he was new to being an Agreed, but they didn’t know he had no idea how his class worked. He felt that would impact their opinion of him, and maybe it came naturally to everyone else. In that case, they would start looking at him very differently, and he didn’t particularly want that attention.
Too many maybe’s and I don’t knows for his liking. He wished it was clean cut and easy, but of course it wasn’t.
Currently, his plan was to ride out the two weeks until he was brought back home, get properly teleported to Babylon – weird, how circumstances could change so rapidly that he was looking forward to it – and ask another Agreed about it. No doubt there were others with similar problems as his, and Agreed had existed for a long-ish time. Babylon probably had people knowledgeable on the subject, ready to swoop in and teach doe-eyed Agreed how to walk. If they didn’t have people who could help, then nowhere did.
The plan came, unfortunately, with a pit in his stomach. He felt like he should learn now, so if he found himself in a situation where it was necessary for him to use his class skills, he could. Even if he did it poorly. The odds of a situation like that arising were, according to the researchers, monumentally small. So tiny that discussing it wasn’t even worth it; so miniscule that wasting a single flash of a neuron’s electricity on it was a waste. If he believed them, experimentation was wholly unnecessary. Everything would be fine.
For some reason, he was having a hard time believing that.
He opened his class screen and stared hard at the skills, trying to figure out how they worked. He was ignoring the foundation points for the moment; the last time he’d opened the manual menu had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he was indifferent to selecting ‘automatic’ and letting the Donor take care of things. Something else to wait for home to do, where he was in a more comfortable environment. Preferably above sea level.
Otto concentrated on [Leviathan’s Mass], willing it to work. He tried emptying his mind, closing his eyes, letting it consume him entirely.
After a few minutes of trying, the only thing he accomplished was getting a little bit sleepy. He felt his limbs a few times, stood up and walked around, and found no change. Either he had succeeded and couldn’t tell, or much more likely, he hadn’t figured it out at all.
“It should be easier than this, right?” he muttered. If the only way Agreed could utilize their skills was under intense concentration with their eyes closed, they would be far fewer supervillains and heroes in the world. Most Agreed seemed to pick it up pretty quickly, though they had others to ask and get advice from.
He was, uncomfortably enough, following the learning curve of a supervillain. It was well known that they took longer to figure out their abilities and had a less comprehensive understanding of them compared to heroes or even regular Agreed, and that was because nearly all of them refused transport to Babylon and hid somewhere experimenting for however long before going on a rampage. There were a few supervillains who were former heroes, but they were miniscule in number.
A good thing too, since they were much more dangerous on average.
All in all, Otto was frustrated. It was supposedly easy and natural enough that most Agreed figured it out shortly after affixation – as long as they had another Agreed to talk to – and also difficult enough that it left supervillains stunted in their understanding forever.
He had just started focusing on it again through what he had dubbed the ‘Angel Method’ which entailed squeezing his eyes closed and trying to force the skill to the surface, entitled because he imagined he made a constipated face the same way Angel sometimes did when she popped her wings out, when the researchers started filtering in to the cafeteria.
“Oh.” A male voice said. Otto flushed and opened his eyes, looking up at Lapo. The Jarran had paused mid step towards the buffet after seeing him.
“I can go-“ he began, pointing behind him with his thumb and already moving in the direction.
“No no, it’s okay.” Otto said quickly. “I was just…doing…something.” He said, wincing at his own explanation. “Feel free to get food.”
Lapo started picking things onto a plate slowly, glancing towards Otto every few seconds. He obviously wanted to say something, but was struggling with the words. He turned towards Otto mid-way down the table.
“Were you…” he began, and Otto cut him off before he could continue.
“I was experimenting with one of my skills.” He said. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he found the idea of revealing a bit of his incompetence far superior to this case’s alternative. To his relief, Lapo nodded immediately, taking the explanation without any more questions.
The rest of the researchers filtered through, some yawning while others were chattering, the former shooting death glares at the latter, who didn’t notice or care whatsoever. Karro in particular was excitedly discussing the details of today, while Braes and Maleera sat next to each other spearing pieces of some vegetable with three-pronged forks and shoving them in their mouths in an overly aggressive manner.
Braes was wearing no earrings today, but had a nose ring and a pair of eyebrow piercings that hadn’t been present the day before. Maleera had stripes of alternating red and yellow paint on the top of her head instead of the solid black she’d had yesterday. Both were striking changes, and Otto had no idea if he would ever understand Jarran fashion.
Everyone else looked about the same. Clothing had changed but only superficially. Yaris’ beard had not grown any longer nor filled in, much to Otto’s empathetic chagrin.
“Alright, everyone.” Karro said, eyes scanning the group. The room was filled with nervous energy, with Otto supplying most of the nerves. “It’s time to begin.”
Otto tensed and relaxed his hands again and again as he followed the group through hallways and tubes between the different underwater buildings. He took up the rear since it felt like the correct thing to do as ‘security’ when the threat didn’t actually exist. Maybe it made them feel more comfortable, but more likely they forgot he was there. He got especially anxious when they passed through another glass-walled tube, though this time, they didn’t spot any colossal creatures at the edges.
There was only so long his nerves could stay frayed, though. Eventually, he realized the truth of security duty after so long of dreading it and the dangers it came with.
Security was really boring.
Otto sat at an empty desk, head propped up with one hand while the other fiddled with a pen. It didn’t click like most pens back home, and instead the tip emerged when it got close to a flat surface. Currently, he was baiting it into emerging by bringing it close to the metal table before pulling back. His eyes fluttered, although he wasn’t very tired. He was just mind numbingly bored.
The researchers weren’t. Darwin the omni-tool hovered overhead, doing something he didn’t understand while Yaris manipulated it from a control pad on the far side of the room. Karro and Maleera were standing at the edge of the pool, peering into it with dark glasses while rapidly taking notes. The rest were scattered at various tables like the one Otto sat at, peering at samples under microscopes and other tools that were clearly alien in nature. A petri dish – or the Jarran equivalent – was floating in the center of several rapidly spinning rings, and Braes was carefully noting down the musical notes it emitted.
Just as Otto was about to slip into sleep, it was cut short. Vibrations starting small but rapidly growing until he was grabbing onto the table for support while waves were thrown against the glass from the pool in the center of the room. He looked around in fear, but all of the scientists calmly grabbed onto something and waited it out.
Less than a minute later, it was over. Everyone started working again, and Otto immediately fast-walked over to Karro and Maleera. Despite being on the inside of the glass ring, neither were wet from the waves.
“Uh, excuse me,” Otto said, knocking lightly on the glass. Karro turned to him with surprise and pushed his goggles up to his forehead.
“What are you guys doing?” he meant to ask about the vibrations, but he was a little curious. The water was pitch black, and the goggles weren’t much better, but they seemed to be looking at something.
Karro smiled and took the goggles off completely, pointing at the lenses. He always seemed to enjoy explaining their research and the methods behind them.
“These are special goggles designed to see through abyssal waters.” He explained. “Abyssal waters being water in the depths of the ocean, where the only light is man-made or bioluminescence. The pool is magically treated at all times to maintain the same temperature and light levels of the deep ocean outside, despite…” he gestured to the perfectly lit room around them.
“All this light. We’re recording the different species we see.”
Otto nodded slowly. It was interesting to him, even if he had a hard time understanding. He’d always liked science, so this was right up his alley. He was, however, woefully out of his depth.
“Is that all?” Karro asked, pulling the goggles back to put over his head.
“One last thing,” Otto said hurriedly. “What was that vibration?”
Karro slapped himself on the forehead and started laughing.
“We never told you?” he asked rhetorically, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I forgot. My apologies; that must have been stressful.”
Otto forced a strained ha-ha, and Karro smiled kindly back.
“Our facility is, obviously, not native to the environment we’re in. No matter how hard we try, we’re constantly emitting small amounts of light and sound to our surroundings in amounts that are so small the vast majority of creatures can’t detect them.”
“There are, however, some organisms that can tell. Their senses are sharply attuned to the abyssal depths, and we stick out like a sore thumb. In order to…placate these creatures, we have to take certain measures.”
Otto had a sick feeling in his stomach, but he pressed on anyway.
“What measures?”
Karro winced, seeming to realize what he was about to say might be a bit unnerving.
“Remember that big fish you saw when you first arrived?”
Otto nodded slowly. He didn’t think he would forget that any time soon.
“Those are like feeder fish for the real giants that lurk down here. We call them Feeders for that reason. Feeders aren’t very scary, despite their size, to us. They could gnaw on our facility all day and night if they wanted to and wouldn’t break through.”
“The larger ones though…those could cause some issue. So, to avoid being targeted, we spear a couple of Feeders and leave them there. The big fish investigate our facility, find a snack, and are placated. Those vibrations are us spearing them. With lasers.” An attempt at a reassuring smile spread across his face. He gave a thumbs down.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“It’s perfectly safe!” he said enthusiastically. “Nothing to worry about.”
Otto stared at his thumb. “Right.” He said monotonously. “Thanks for letting me know.”
He sat back at the metal table, feeling much less at ease than he had a moment before. He was silently kicking himself for getting so complacent so quickly in the first place; he was on another planet, surrounded by aliens who had a vastly different concept of what ‘safe’ meant, and he was nearly falling asleep while on security duty.
Otto’s anxiety grew while he rapped his fingers on the metal table in thought, bouncing his leg. He looked at the completely at-ease Jarrans around him and made a reluctant realization.
I need to figure out my skills. He thought to himself. [Leviathan’s Mass] at least.
His expression soured and he crossed his arms. He didn’t want to.
I don’t feel different, but I am. He said to himself. There’s no getting around it. I’m an Agreed now; refusing to interface with my skills doesn’t change that.
There’s no going back.
Even as he told himself that, he found it difficult to buy. He had a lifetime of walls built up between himself and Agreed as a whole – though his ire was centered on superheroes – accepting that he was one of them was hard. He wanted to ride out this two weeks and go home, hopefully pushing off using his skills for as long as he could.
Otto looked over at the researchers. They were gathered as a group near the pool of water, though on the outside of it. Karro and Maleera had joined them from the inside, and all of them were looking up at Darwin, aside from Yaris who was still piloting the machine. He heard one of them say something about this being ‘the first real test,’ though he hadn’t caught enough of the conversation to know what that meant. Their expressions seemed perennially excited, childishly so. They had complete faith in the facility, their equipment, each other, and even Ameris.
Otto didn’t.
He couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had wormed its way into his gut. He felt like something was going to go wrong, sooner rather than later, and he needed to be ready for it. Maybe it was paranoia speaking, or years of watching movies where something always went wrong to push the protagonist forward, but he couldn’t dislodge it no matter how hard he tried. The skills were a part of him now, and that was that. The refrain repeated in his mind: there was no going back.
Maleera looked over at Otto and waved at him with a motherly smile.
“Hold on tight!” She called out to him. He looked back with raised eyebrows. Then, the vibrations started again.
They weren’t identical to the previous ones. Those were extremely uniform, starting out small and rapidly growing until they were having a localized earthquake which cut off as soon as it began. These felt more natural, spontaneous, like a beast bucking against its restraints.
He didn’t know how correct he was. The pitch black waters of the pool of water parted, water spraying into the air like a bomb went off, bouncing off of invisible walls. From the pool emerged a massive fish; it was bulbous with translucent dark green scales that showed deep blue veins underneath the surface. Two sets of eyes on each side of its head, each the size of a basketball. They were glassy and lightly colored, monochrome light blue with drops of white like marbles. Large gills opened and closed on its side, razor sharp, and its mouth was filled with rows of flat teeth.
Dozens of mechanical arms emerged from Darwin, and controlled by Yaris, immediately clamped down on the creature, preventing it from bucking and splashing any more water.
He recognized it immediately, but Karro turned to him with a massive smile and threw up his arms, back to the creature.
“Look, Otto!” He called out, “It’s a Feeder!”
Otto stared back. He met the eyes of the colossal fish, and looked back to Karro. He forced a smile onto his face. The other researchers were whooping and cheering, pressing against the glass to get a closer look.
They’re insane. He thought to himself. They’re all insane.
More than any argument he had made to himself prior, that sight convinced him once and for all.
I need to figure out my skills.
* * *
The Feeder was weirdly docile.
After being pulled into the pool, it had calmed down considerably. The dozens of arms Darwin had initially held it with receded one by one, until eventually, it was simply swimming in circles in the pool of water. It was just big enough for the creature to do that and only that, but it didn’t seem too concerned. Even among other fish, Otto thought the Feeder seemed a bit…dull. That didn’t tamper the researcher’s enthusiasm for its presence, though.
“It’s the first giant-specification sea creature on Baffa ever studied in person!” Maleera excitedly explained to him while he smiled and nodded along. “Up until this point, the closest we’d gotten was using mechanized drones.”
“Are there many people studying deep sea life on Baffa?”
Maleera had scoffed. “Oh, of course not. I’d be surprised if there’s more than a dozen people on the planet other than us, and they’re all on the surface! Idiots.”
He had extricated himself from the conversation as soon as he could, eating his lunch in private while the researchers fled the cafeteria and went back to fawning over the Feeder. Otto was eating something like an enchilada, filled with meat, cheese, and vegetables he had never seen before. He wasn’t complaining, though; it was the most familiar thing he had found thus far, and it tasted really good. He had already gone back for seconds.
“[Leviathan’s Mass]…go.” He muttered to himself, pushing his hand palm forward. Nothing happened and he blushed, checking the cafeteria to see if anyone was around to see it. Thankfully, there was no one to be seen.
“Odd technique.” A voice commented to his side. His head snapped over, and he reddened even further. Ameris stood, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, looking the same as he always did. If anything, his wispy hair looked even more absurd, sticking out in every direction whereas before it had only stuck out in most. His assistant – or who he assumed was his assistant, anyway – was dutifully following behind as usual, taking notes about…something.
“Were you striking an invisible opponent?” Ameris asked, squinting his eyes, as if looking closer would help him divine Otto’s intentions.
“Um, no.” Otto said. He coughed into his hand in a feeble attempt to hide his embarrassment. “I was just…experimenting with something. One of my skills.”
Ameris nodded and stroked his chin.
“Ah, I see.” He muttered. “More than one skills, you say?” he asked politely.
Otto shifted uncomfortably. Maybe he had simply met the man on a bad day, but he was acting much more politely than he had back then. From what the others said, that was his usual, not…making small talk about his skills.
“Only two.” He eventually said. “One is, uh, passive? The other is ‘active,’ I guess, but I can’t figure out how to actually…turn it on.”
Ameris nodded sympathetically. “The struggles of a newly minted bonds- Agreed, no doubt.” He corrected himself smoothly, speaking fast to move on from it. “Two skills is quite interesting, though. I’ve heard most Agreed only receive one skill upon affixation, unless they’re S-rank.” He commented idly.
“Oh.” Otto said. “I didn’t know that.” He really hadn’t. He had done his research, but the more specific you looked for information on Agreed, the harder the information was to come by. There were theories, of course, but reputable sources became…scarce.
“I’m only A-rank, though.”
Ameris raised his eyebrows. “Impressive, then, to have received two.”
An awkward silence stretched out between them. Otto didn’t really know how to respond, Ameris’ demeanor was making him more than a little uncomfortable, and he really just wanted to finish his enchilada.
“You know,” Otto said eventually, “Karro said you specifically requested a new Agreed, when you guys put in the…order.” He didn’t know the technical term for it, although calling it an ‘order’ felt like he was equating himself to a happy meal.
Ameris’ expression froze, though he schooled it quickly after
“Did he now?” he asked. There was a flicker of something behind his eyes, and Otto felt it looked like the ‘real’ Ameris peeking out.
“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Otto quickly said, “I just wanted to ask – if you had control over what you requested, did you…design…my class?” he asked hopefully. If he could talk to the person who had created his class, that would undoubtedly help him immensely. He didn’t know if there was an Agreed alive who had spoken directly to the creator of their class, mainly because he didn’t know if most anyone was aware they were actually designed, and not randomly generate or something.
Ameris’ expression twisted. “What kind of mush-chewing cretin do you take me for?” he asked, his tone filling with venom.
There he is. Otto thought to himself.
“Karro handled the specifics of the request; I had no hand in it. My signature was merely necessary because their worthless research would have never been approved otherwise. They think that machine in the observation chamber denotes innovation.” He scoffed, sticking his hands in the pockets of his lab coat hard while he paced back and forth.
“Design a class. Those churls would be revolted if they heard I was designing a class, if only because I would show the Government how woefully incompetent they truly are. Luckily for them, the feeling is eminently mutual.”
Ameris’ expression hardened as one of disdain. He spun on his heel and stalked away, muttering about classes and those who designed them all the while. Without looking up from his clipboard, his assistant followed.
Otto took his time eating the rest of his enchilada.
I think they were underselling his insanity.
He walked back to the observation chamber, settling in at the same table as always. He idly watched the scientists poke and prod at the Feeder. He felt a little bad for the creature, being pulled from its habitat to be studied, but at least it wasn’t one of the Feeders who got brutally killed just to keep the real threats of the depths off the researcher’s proverbial backs. Getting prodded with strange tools while you swam in circles was downright kind in comparison.
Still messed up. He thought to himself. He met the Feeder’s eyes, and he felt a bit of kinship.
We’re both here against our wills. Hopefully we can make it through.
Otto started his trial and error again, attempting to figure out his skills. It was going the same as always; he waved his hand through the skill screen trying to press it like a button to no effect, did his best Angel impression several times in an attempt to brute force it. When that didn’t work, he tried more esoteric ideas he’d baked up while mid-bite in the enchilada.
“Mass is like weight. Kind of.” He muttered to himself. None of the researchers were paying him any mind even if they heard him talking to himself, focused solely on the Feeder. Even if they had heard him, he was far from the only one engaging in private mutterings. He’d caught at least half of them doing the same thing throughout this day alone.
He shook his head. “It’s not weight. If it was weight, it would say weight. Mass is different.” He groaned and let his head rock back. He liked science, he really did, but his natural affinity for it never improved. Same with math, which were coincidentally the two subjects mass were most related to. At least, he thought so.
“Am I stupid?” Otto asked himself. He said it louder than he intended, and Braes glanced in his direction. He reddened and came to a realization.
“Oh. I am stupid.” He muttered, turning towards the Jarran woman. “Hey Braes?”
She looked at him and cocked her head. He took that as an invitation to continue.
“What’s the difference between mass and weight?”
Braes raised her eyebrows. She briefly waved Karro over and whispered something to him. He pulled something up on the Donor and shrugged to her. She turned back to him. Otto blinked.
“What was that about?” he asked. She blushed and clasped her hands together.
“I had to be sure I wouldn’t be describing something your planet doesn’t already understand the concept of. There are rules in place against that.”
“Oh.” Otto said. “We know about mass. I just…forgot.”
Braes nodded. “They seem similar, at first glance. Jarran children similarly struggle with the concept.” Otto felt his eye twitch, and she continued on.
“Mass is how much matter something contains. Weight is how much gravity affects an object. Your mass does not change, but your weight does, depending on gravitational fields and proximity to – commonly – the celestial body’s core.” She explained. “Does that make sense?”
Otto scratched his head. It didn’t not make sense; it aligned pretty well with what he remembered from school, but it also wasn’t as helpful as he had been hoping. He thanked her and went back to stewing over the problem. His eyes kept sliding to the Feeder.
“That’s a lot of matter.” He muttered, scanning its body. It was massive, as always. None of the experiments had changed that. “Gravity probably exerts more force on it since its so big, so it weighs more. Not the same though.”
His head hurt, and he was pretty sure he was doing eighth grade science.
“Not the same, but related. Connected.”
Otto closed his eyes and tried making himself…more. Not heavier, although that was a byproduct; denser, filled with more ‘stuff’ than he usually was. Like each inch of his body was filled with even more cells than usual, without changing his physicality.
Nothing happened. Otto opened his eyes and scowled.
The chair below him creaked.
He froze. He concentrated on the feeling further, trying to make himself as ‘more’ as possible, with his limited understanding of what that actually meant. The chair started to groan in stress, and he felt something in his body flex.
No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t in his body so much as it was attached to it. It was like an extra limb had been sewn on to his body so seamlessly he hadn’t even noticed until he finally made it move. He honed in on that feeling, trying to memorize it, and in the process, he flexed the limb harder.
The chair collapsed beneath him. He fell onto the ground and rolled. When he came to a stop a foot later, he looked back at where he’d tumbled from.
The chair wasn’t flattened, but the legs were bent, and one had snapped off. The whole thing had buckled under his weight, despite being made almost entirely out of metal.
It took him a few seconds to realize everyone was looking at him. Otto slowly pushed himself to his feet, finding it no harder to stand and walk around than it did normally, despite his increased mass. Experimentally, he tried lifting the chair, and found it difficult to do so; it was a heavy chair. He hadn’t gotten any stronger, but he could move just fine.
“Did that chair offend you?” Lapo asked. Otto jerked and looked at him, wincing. The man seemed completely sincere.
“No, sorry. That was an accident.” He said. Everyone stared blankly at him.
“I figured out one of my skills. It…didn’t react well with the chair. “
Karro raised his eyebrows – or the skin where they would be, if he had any - and nodded. Everyone else turned back to what they were doing. Nobody seemed to care, or took the explanation at face value.
“Congratulations, then.” Karro said with a smile. “What does it do? Besides break chairs.”
“Thanks.” He replied. He hesitated on answering the question, but he felt a bit bad. He’d just broken one of their chairs, after all. Maybe they deserved an explanation.
“I increase my mass, I think.” He said. Karro’s eyebrows rose even higher, somehow.
“Really?” He asked. “How much can you increase it? Does it do anything else?”
Otto stumbled under the questions. “I don’t know? I just figured it out. I don’t know to both questions. It might do something else, but I doubt it.”
He paused. “I’m not…flexing it as hard as I could right now, though.” He looked at the floor of the facility. “Do you think it’s safe for me to…?”
Karro nodded. “The floor can support the weight of several Feeders. You should be fine.”
Otto started flexing [Leviathan’s Mass] more, clenching his eyes shut and increasing it until he felt like he couldn’t push it any further. He opened his eyes. “Do I look any different?”
Karro shook his head. “No. Can you walk?”
Otto took a few steps towards the pool, shrugging. “Yeah, I can-“
The Feeder twitched.
It’s entire body spasmed at once, and Otto felt two of its eyes lock on him. Where it had been blankly staring before, now, it was looking. Right at him.
It let out something akin to a sound, but impossibly deep. A roar adjusted to the deep, one that shook the room they stood in with its vibrations. Water sloshed in the pool and it started bucking like it had when it first was brought in, but now, even worse.
The researchers started shouting to one another.
“Get it under control!” Jola yelled to Yaris, who fumbled with Darwin’s controls. The dozens of claws came out again, seeking to pin the Feeder in place, but he struggled to make contact. It knocked them aside when they got close and swam in faster and faster circles, managing to be a difficult target despite its size. It released another bleat, causing half the Jarrans to clamp their ears shut in pain. The Feeder rammed into the side of the pool, and the glass surrounding it rattled dangerously.
A hand grabbed Otto on the shoulder and shook him. He looked over to see Karro, grimacing with one ear held shut.
“Your skill!” He shouted. Otto struggled to understand what he was saying for several seconds, but finally, he understood.
He unflexed the skill, returning to his normal mass. Almost instantly, the Feeder calmed. It stopped swimming as quickly, and its eyes returned to the same glassy, unfocused as before. Darwin’s arms clamped down on it, holding it in place, but it didn’t react.
Otto realized he was breathing hard, and everyone was staring at him.
“I’m sorry, I-“ he stumbled over his words. “I didn’t think my skill would trigger a reaction in it like that. I didn’t know the Feeders were territorial, or-“
Karro shook his head. To Otto’s shock, he didn’t look upset. If anything, he looked excited.
“I don’t think that was territorial aggression.” A wide smile crossed his face. One by one, it dawned over the other researcher’s faces as well as they came to the same realization as him. Yaris was the sole exception, looking upset at the machine above them – with himself or with Darwin itself, Otto didn’t know.
Otto looked at each of them. He didn’t get it.
“If it wasn’t being aggressive, what was it?” he asked. “It was roaring like it wanted me to get away. That seems territorial to me. It started ramming into the walls of the enclosure!” He said, pointing at the pool. Karro shook his head once more.
“It wasn’t aggressive.” Karro said. “It was scared.”
Braes cut in excitedly. “The roars were to deter you, but not from encroaching on its territory, but to stop you from killing and eating it!” She ran to a nearby table and fumbled through papers for a bit before bringing one over. There was a chart on it that he didn’t understand; it was a black circular graph with white lines radiating outwards like one on a radar scanner. It was peppered with red dots, some larger than others. She pointed to two dots in particular; one medium sized and one far, far larger.
“We’ve recorded similar sounds from Feeders when approached by a larger predator shortly before their demise. It wasn’t ramming into the walls of the enclosure out of aggression; it was trying to get away.”