“I’ve fucking had it with you!” Zachary’s father roared, jabbing a finger in his direction. “All you do is jump from job to job, not holding down anything for more than a couple of months. You need to learn responsibility!”
“I’m trying!” Zachary retorted. “I-”
“Try harder!” His dad bellowed, slamming his fist onto the arm of his chair. “You’ve been a legal adult for years now, and I’m sick of treating you like a toddler!”
“Then don’t!” Zachary screamed back, bringing about a half second of silence as his father’s face twisted in rage.
“I don’t like that tone, Zachary.”
“Well, I don't like yours, either!” Zachary shouted. “I’m sick of being yelled at for all this shit I’m actively working on! It takes time to change!”
“Not five years, Zachary.”
“Yes, five years! Sometimes more!” Zachary screamed, his tone rapidly becoming far more enraged than his father’s own. “I’m actively trying to find ways to get myself to function properly! If I say I'll do something, then I have a tendency to forget to do it. If I say nothing, people get pissed off at me, but I actually do it. I’m trying to keep the positives from both sides while dropping the negatives, but it isn’t easy! In case you haven’t noticed in your 23 years of raising me, I’m a bit of an imbecile who apparently can’t change worth a damn!”
His father’s face softened at the last words, anger melting away as soon as it had cropped up.
“You’re not an imbecile,” he said. Zachary snorted.
“How the hell else am I so incapable? I make you so stressed all the time, and you’ve said before your migraines are triggered by me a lot!”
“You know that was said out of a place of anger.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it wrong! I want you to be rid of those headaches and migraines and pains, but I can’t even change my own stupid behavior for you. What else would that make me, aside from incapable and moronic?”
“Struggling,” his father said, letting out a breath. “Struggling with something you aren’t capable of changing as quickly as you want to - as quickly as we want you to.”
A heavy silence lingered for several long moments before Zachary’s father spoke again.
“I know you’re trying, and I’m sorry for raising my voice to you. It was wrong of me. You just… You have a habit of finding yourself in situations that drive me up the wall, you know? Like I’ve said before, it’s not you I’m upset with, it’s-”
“The situation,” Zachary said in tandem with his father. “I know, but they wouldn’t come about if I was more capable.”
“You’re trying, and that’s all I can ask,” his father said, and Zachary looked down at his hands.
“I’m sorry for raising my voice, too.” He muttered, and his dad leaned out of his chair to give him a hug.
“I love you, bud.”
“I love you too, dad.”
Zachary got up, then paused.
“Want me to grab you anything before I head back downstairs?” He asked. His dad thought for a moment.
“A Dr. Pepper, if you don’t mind.” He said, and Zachary nodded. He stretched as he stood, glancing at his dad.
His father was gone.
In his place sat what looked like a vaguely human-shaped hole in reality, a spot of nothingness in the exact same shape of his father.
He looked down at his own hands, which were heavily bloodstained with chips of bone and gray matter stuck to them. When he looked forward, he was sitting in a different house - his grandmother’s house - and a corpse with stringy blonde hair was face down in the tiled entryway. The carpet in the living room, directly adjacent, was slowly turning red from blood. He felt the crunching of bone again, the feel of resonation as his arm brought the skull down on the hard marble again and again. He knew his dad and sister were behind him, backing up slightly. He could feel his anger rise with every impact, a need for assurance that the wretch was finally dead permeating his mind.
She had to go. She overstepped. She needed to feel the pain she wrought tenfold. She was evil, and he could deal with penitentiary.
He kept bashing, kept leaning his full body weight into the skull in the same manner one might use chest compressions. He rapidly smashed the head between the corners of the doorway, as fast as his arms could move, greedily reveling in the severe gashes spewing blood from either side of the woman’s head. He jumped on her spine, knowing it was the most pain-ridden part of her, and drove a knee into every segment more than once. He smashed her head into the front door until it had a hole broken into it, then swapped back to bashing her skull mercilessly into the floor. Teeth clattered across the tile, her nose ripped in half with both sides loosely dangling by threads of skin, wildly flung about by the impacts before finally being ripped off. He cranked on her head until her neck snapped, forcing the eviscerated face against her chest. He then grabbed both sides of her corpse’s torso and twisted them towards him, knee against the spine. A sickening, wet crack echoed through the three-story house, and he heard gagging and footsteps.
Zachary panted, standing straight up as he looked to the approaching individual. He felt more rage burn within him as he saw the figure; a random person in his school who had decided to pick a fight in the hall. All Zachary had done was joke with his friend about a character from a book they were reading in English, which the individual decided was all making fun of him. The figure got into a cartoonish boxing stance, and Zachary felt his desire to walk away die as soon as he was hit in the face with a quick jab. His glasses fell, and his eyes went dead. He felt instinct take over, slapping the individual before taking another two hits with no reaction. He grabbed the kid’s arm, and felt the minute amount of energy needed to swing him into the brick wall beside them. He felt the potential of violence, the much needed repercussions for this kid’s audacity. He felt a deep vein of energy burst, flooding his body with power, desperately trying to make him destroy the offender’s body and spirit.
Zachary fought against the urge.
He did not win.
He swung the other boy into the wall with as much force as he could, producing a loud crack. He felt the vibrations from the impact go through him, but he didn’t care. He grabbed the boy’s face and began bashing them relentlessly into the wall, over and over again. He heard crunches and thunks, but didn’t stop until the boy’s head was visibly caved in. He then threw the boy to the ground, walking away in a huff.
As he turned around, he found himself in his father’s kitchen, sister screaming at him.
With another string of words laced with expletives that Zachary didn’t bother paying attention to, his sister slapped him across the face.
That was the starter’s pistol, and Zachary braced his right arm in front of himself, charging at her.
The pair slammed into the wall, and while his sister tried to hit him, Zachary held her arms still at her sides. For all her boasting about beating him up, he always knew he was far stronger than her. He held her arms at her sides as she slid to the floor, and he felt the energy, the need, to start beating her senseless. Their father was in the shower, so he had a few seconds to cause real damage. To show her not to mess with him.
He lifted a fist, and despite wanting to show her just how large the gap between them was, he paused.
He struggled against that feeling, trying to force it back down more desperately than before.
It didn’t work.
His fist jerked downwards, a loud snapping and crunching sound meeting his ears. As he raised his other fist to hit her again, he felt the entire ground shake beneath his feet -
With a sudden jolt, Cog awoke once more in the odd vehicle - a Clanker, he remembered them calling it - with his head spinning from being bashed into the ceiling.
“Guess the speed bump woke him up,” Olga said, though any snark or amusement was gone from her face. “I’m glad.”
“W-what..?” Cog said, shakily. “Why is it..?”
“You were meeting something very local and very nasty, in a very personal way,” Noelle said, expression dark.
“What are you..?” Cog said, rubbing his eyes with his good arm. Xandir sent a glare at his two allies, then turned to the pech.
“We’ll explain later,” Xandir said, pointing out the vehicle’s window. “We’ve arrived.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The camp, which was deemed Site Teal by Xandir, wasn’t what Cog thought it would be. Where he expected tents, full residences were set up; townhouse-esque buildings with walls made of the same kind of tree Cog first encountered in the woods and roofs made from some kind of odd, pale green metal - orichalcum, if it shared a material with the vehicle they'd been travelling in. The glass was all tinted like car windows, showing only silhouettes going about their daily lives. Due to a massive localized pond with a connecting river in the dead center of town, it didn’t seem as though they had conventional running water. However, oddly familiar boxes in the windows of all the buildings made it appear as though they had some form of electricity - or, at the very least, functioning heaters and air conditioners. The houses, upon closer inspection, were all held together with thick metal rods made from the same material as the roof, and the doors - which seemed to be nothing but curtains - were revealed upon closer inspection to be curved sheet metal. Those were made from what appeared to be typical stainless steel, if a bit darker and more matte in coloration and texture.
The site had to be at least five miles in diameter, and its perimeter was protected by several guards all sporting guns that looked like a hybrid between a desert eagle and an RPD; the muzzles were extensive and the magazine maintained a double drum design, but the body of the gun was roughly the shape of a deagle, though a few aspects of an RPD were carried over. Its appearance caused Cog to draw a comparison to the ridiculousness of a Prius with monster truck tires and the bed of a pickup truck. The metal was a deep crimson, changing to a royal purple when shifted at the right angle in the light. The guards themselves wore what appeared to be typical, all black bulletproof vests over civilian clothes. They also all wore badges made of the same green material as the roofs and supports on the houses, leading Cog to wonder what exactly the presumed 'Orichalcum' metal was.
The perimeter was not solely protected by manpower; instead, fences made of the same material as the doors were erected all the way around the outskirts, a half dozen gates built into them. At the point along the gravel road where it met the fence, a much larger gate stood, higher than the rest of the barricade. At least fifteen guards stood at the ready, and what appeared to be a standard toll booth sat adjacent to the road on either side of the exterior. As they approached the gate, Xandir rolled down his window with the hand crank, popping his head out. The man behind the booth looked up, nodded, quickly wrote something down, then gestured for Braune to continue on. The gates slowly swung open for the group, and Cog saw a perfectly circular gazebo to their left that had been blocked from view. It was made of a beautiful powder blue wood, its roof constructed from a gunmetal gray stone. Inside, a handful of individuals were talking, sipping drinks and laughing. There was also what appeared to be leather furniture of a pale red color, practically shining in the light that seeped into the open air within.
“What’s that?” Cog asked, pointing to the gazebo with his good arm.
“Hm?” Noelle said, then glanced where Cog was pointing. “Oh, that; it’s a small commune place. It’s a bit of an experimental structure we’re trying to help raise morale on expeditions like this, and it’s working out rather nicely. We never gave it an official name, but the members on this outing have started calling it ‘Big Blue’. It’s a larger gazebo than any sane person would craft, but due to the hundred and fifty-three individuals on this mission, it needed to house a decent number of people. Of course, not everyone at once, since many have different sleep schedules, but still.”
“It is a rather nice place to sit and relax,” Olga said, nodding as if to confirm with herself. “I’ve had some rather… unique experiences there, too.”
“Do not indulge that, Cog,” Noelle said, rolling her eyes. “She uses it for practice on her raunchy performances.”
“I might indulge her a little,” Xandir said, and was promptly thwacked with another metal mug right between the eyes.
“You’re the one person I don't want to be indulgent,” Olga said, shaking her head.
“No kidding,” Xandir said, sighing as he lightly tossed the mug to Noelle.
“So where’s the medical…” Cog said, trailing off as a building that was hidden behind the residences finally came into view. It had a massive symbol of a cross over a cartoon heart on the awning hanging over the entrance doors, which were made of the same metal as the doors of the houses. Its own windows were not tinted, though, and its walls were made of the same powder blue wood as the gazebo. Its ceiling was made of a new material altogether, though; It looked as if someone had taken a massive tube of silicone sealant and squeezed lines of it instead of making an actual roof. It was, oddly enough, a sharp, dandelion yellow in color. It took up almost as much space as one of the residential buildings, which were sizeable in their own right.
“I take it that’s what you’re after?” Olga said, smirking slightly. Cog nodded, looking over the construction in awe.
“Well,” Xandir said, stretching in his seat, “Let’s get you healed up, then! Oh, and Cog?”
"Yeah?"
Xandir leaned in close.
"Don't. Speak. A word. We don't want accusations of an Arnik in there, and pech don't speak."
Cog swallowed hard, nodding.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Braune and Olga went to park the car in a nearby lot, which was simply well-packed gravel, Xandir and Noelle helped Cog into the building. The latter objected at first, but when his arm throbbed with a new wave of pain, he clenched his teeth and let them lead him by his good arm. The three entered the medical building as quickly as they could manage.
At the forefront of the entry room, a pair of desks sat, made of the same metal as the guards’ weapons. A clear walkway, no less than ten feet wide, stretched on in between them. The floor itself was made of tile that looked similar to marble from Earth, though upon closer inspection, its texture was far closer to a glazed pot than a marble slab.
The room itself spanned extensively, five rows of standard cushioned chairs lining either side of the room like a runway. At least two dozen individuals sat within them, reading through books or, oddly enough, scrolls. The variety of people was vast; some appeared to be normal humans, no different than the ones Cog knew from his home realm. Some appeared to be other members of Braune’s, Olga’s and Noelle’s species, and even a couple that seemed as though they could be related to Xandir, with their void-like skin and obnoxiously 80’s fashion choices. Other species waited, as well; one variety seemed to be humans who had two to three sets of arms and olive skin, sporting no hair yet having definitively masculine or feminine bodies. What seemed like flabs of fat were stretched between their two arms, reminding Cog of a flying squirrel’s patagium.
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Another species that was prominent appeared to not have skin, at least at first glance. When looked at closer, their skin was the same shade as blood and muscle, and their bodies were all lean and compact. None of them looked to be taller than five feet, and Cog gasped quietly when one of them glanced at him. Their eyes were pink, akin to those of an albino human. The sclera, however, were pitch black, and their pupils were pure white. He immediately broke eye contact, doing his damnedest to play the role of wild animal, looking about in a panic.
The final species Cog saw in the waiting room was the only one of his kind; his head was that of a man’s, except his ears and hair were non-existent. His build was similar to the lean blood-colored people, yet he had six arms and a flawless tan complexion. One pair of the arms appeared to be vestigial, while the others were normally proportioned for a human man. His height was at least nine and a half feet, and he barely fit into a single chair, long legs awkwardly bent to at least attempt a proper sitting position. His calm eyes were a vibrant, etheric fluctuation of colors, like the light hitting oil in a parking lot just right. When they laid upon Xandir, he gave him a small, polite nod.
“There are… So many different species…” Cog muttered, awe temporarily dulling the searing pain. Xandir nodded, subtly putting a finger to his lips.
“Chroma being introduced into the world made them like that. It’s how our bodies could have absorbed those constructs and turned them into proper parts of our cells.”
“You’ll have to tell me about all of them. This is just…” Cog muttered.
“Incredible?” Noelle asked, smiling.
“Yeah. Putting it-.” Cog began, at a slightly louder volume.
Suddenly, Xandir and Noelle stopped helping him along and he almost fell over. Xandir knelt down next to him conspicuously, feigning a quick physical check after the sudden stumble. A handful of individuals scanned the room confusedly before gradually returning to their various activities. Xandir's eyes honed in on Cog with a razor's edge as he spoke through the side of his mouth.
“No talking, Cog. Remember that. If you absolutely must narrate your experiences, nothing above a delicate whisper from here on out. We’ve got codes for this sort of thing.”
Cog pursed his lips, but remained silent. He let his eyes wander wildly, sometimes allowing the pain to take partial control of him to sell the story he assumed Xandir wanted to tell. When they reached the counter, the receptionist looked up.
“Welcome to Teal Emergency Restoration! How can I help you?” The woman, who was seemingly a heavy-set human, asked. Her dark pink hair and tan skin were accented with a sort of dark magenta makeup that was nearly black.
“We’d like to request healing for a magical creature we found. A pech. Code Vermillion.” Xandir said. The nurse nodded, poking at something on the desk that Cog couldn’t see; the desk obscured it, thanks to his short stature.
“Is it local?”
“It lies within the definition of ‘Local’ for the purposes of this service.” Xandir said, gesturing behind them and at a small angle. “About fourteen miles out that way.”
After some more prodding at the thing on her desk, the nurse looked up again.
“Mission type and authorization?” She asked, and Xandir pulled what looked like a small, metallic credit card from his pocket, passing it to the nurse. More of that orichalcum, if the fluorescent lights weren't deceiving Cog's eyes. She looked it over, swiped it on her desk, and a gentle chime resounded. She nodded again, passing the card back before more poking.
“Ah, so you were on an investigative search.” She said.
“Yes. We were looking for the source of a chromal flare.” Xandir said, and the nurse gave him a thumbs up.
“Well, everything checks out! You can have a seat over there,” she said, pointing to a trio of open chairs near the front. “Your name will be called when we’re ready to bring you up. For now, here's a bit of cloth wrap and gauze to hold that arm together. A bit of rubbing alcohol to clean it, too.”
“Thank you,” Xandir said, guiding Noelle and Cog to the indicated seats before passing her the medical supplies.
“Where are you going now?” Noelle asked, one brow raised and mirth dancing in her eyes.
“I’m finding the vending machine,” Xandir said, starting to walk in another direction.
“The one that keeps taking your money?”
“Yes, that one. I’m gonna get that damned bar if it’s the last thing I do.”
Noelle just sighed.
"You go get it, Xandir."
He nodded and jogged off excitedly.
"That doctor can't get to you soon enough." Noelle muttered, peeling a fresh strip of cloth from the fabric roll.
Doubt still hovered over his head regarding his current companions With the pain thrumming in his shoulder ever more viciously and teeth grit against the inevitable flare of pain, Cog couldn't agree more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I apologize again for the wait.” The doctor said. She was an elderly woman, appearing to be in her late seventies by Cog’s own guess, but moved about with a spring in her step that he’d never thought someone so old could have. Despite the interesting behavior, he did his best to act like a dazed wild animal; quiet, looking around everywhere, and occasionally scratching himself. “We're in the midst of our daily physicals.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright.” Noelle said, nodding politely. “Xandir has informed us of the increasing severity in danger, what with all of the new events. Xandir's been quite... intense in regards to preparation, but I imagine you'd know all about that.”
The doctor let out a long, cacophonous cackle as she leaned back in her chair, nodding.
“Regardless,” Noelle continued, “We’d really appreciate your expertise in healing our little friend’s injury. He got it in a fight with what seemed to be a fialtog.”
“Really now?” the doctor said, eyebrows raising slightly. “Why is there hesitance in regards to what the creature was?”
“Well, as it turns out, the corpse was charred. It had a few of the defining features of a fialtog, but it was so blackened and ashen that we can’t be sure without looting it.”
“I take it there was an issue with looting it, then?”
“Indeed; it was already claimed by another.” Noelle reached in her bag, pulling out a notebook. She flipped through a few pages before passing it to the elderly woman. “We’ve discovered a handful of intriguing things over by the Sioramoeba event. Insanely high Chroma levels, that pre-looted corpse, a sunshower with severe lightning. We also found this guy, who we want to get healed up and sent back to his habitat - once all of this is dealt with, of course.”
The doctor nodded in understanding before inspecting Cog’s arm. He flinched; partially in exaggeration to sell his ‘feral’ role, and partially because it genuinely stung like a slap from a pro bodybuilder. She nodded to herself before taking a deep, long breath and gently holding Cog’s arm. He flinched again, when all of a sudden, the pain just... stopped. The relief he didn’t realize he could feel made him practically melt in his chair, before he remembered what he was trying to pull off and simply relaxed instead. Keeping his eyes wide with the sudden wave of relieved fatigue was difficult, but fortunately, not impossible.
Glancing down at the dangling arm, he saw the old woman’s hands glowing with a pastel yellow light, pulses of energy waving through the rays of what he assumed was healing magic. It looked like her hand was a speaker at the center of a luminous pond, the ripples only growing faster and more numerous.
Once all of the pain was gone, she slowly realigned the useless appendage, which felt no worse than his arm falling asleep, though the pain did also resemble a very mildly bruised bone. The regaining of feeling in it was a shock, though, and Cog watched in awe as the skin and tendons knitted themselves back together. The waves encircled his arm’s connection, adhering everything together almost like a glue before it suddenly released a pulse of light.
All at once, the new, odd feelings in his arm were gone, just as quickly as the pain left. It was simply his arm again.
He tried to determine how an animal would act, but couldn’t think of anything; instead of changing up the narrative, he decided to do what he was doing anyways - stare in awe at the adhesive light that reattached his arm.
“You’ll want to make sure he doesn’t use that arm for much throughout the next four to six hours,” the doctor said, smiling. “It’s fixing and realigning all of the interior functionality, and interrupting it now to too much of a degree will interrupt and hinder that process. If he gets rowdy, you should be safe to give him some pain medicine you might take. If you have none, you know where the pharmacy is.”
“I do, indeed.” Noelle said, returning the smile. “Thank you very much, Dr. Colt.”
“Oh, not a problem. Happy to help!” Colt said. “Again, four to six hours before you release him into the wilderness. If you need anything else, you’re always welcome here, my friend!”
Noelle gave a thumbs up and, after a proper send-off, she guided Cog out of the hospital building. When they were out of eyesight and earshot of anyone who could snoop on them, Cog spoke quietly.
“So her name is Colt, and her healing powers resemble glue?” Cog asked, face blanched.
“Yeah. What about it?” Noelle said, looking around for their vehicle. After a moment, it turned a corner from the lot, and she waved at it. Cog blinked.
“Do you have horses here?” He asked. She nodded.
“Isn’t that kinda fucked?” Cog said, and Noelle smirked.
“Yep.” She said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Okay, I have several questions.” Cog said, sliding into the coach while carefully working his refreshed limb. Before he was able to say anything else, he was stopped by Braune with a hand held, who had traded places with Olga in the driver’s seat.
“First, let me give you these before I forget.” Braune said, handing Cog what looked to be an unlabeled pill calendar. Inside were perfectly spherical pieces of something that seemed to have both a matte and mousse-like texture. Each one, going down the six slots, matched up with the corresponding colors of a rainbow.
“What are these?” Cog asked.
“That's how you get magic," Braune said. "Hold onto those for now. We’ll teach you the breathing technique to take in Chroma and dissolve them once we get back to the office. For now, we can try to answer your questions. The ones you already asked, that is. That’ll be plenty for now.”
"If we're limiting questions, then I'm going to need one answered right away," Cog said, looking to Noelle. "What the hell was that 'local nastiness' you were talking about before?"
Noelle looked as though she wanted to say something immediately, before a look of self-imposed conflict overtook her face. The following silence was interrupted by the vehicle revving and jerking into motion.
"Ah. The local nastiness," she said, glancing at Braune and Xandir with a pleading look. It took the two men a moment to realize what she was attempting to convey.
"The nastiness is, erm..." Braune said, scratching the back of his head.
"It's not for the faint of heart..." Xandir said, arms crossed and eyes averting Cog's gaze.
"They're... the root of a lot of zealots. And fanatics," Noelle added.
"It really sounds like you lot are talking about a mad god or something ridiculous like that," Cog said. His mood and gut sank in unison as he had a sudden realization.
"Gods are real here, aren't they..?"
The other three sitting near him nodded slowly.
"Now, I'm no genius," Cog said, "but does that mean a god messed with my brain while I slept?"
"Most likely." Xandir said, eyes slowly trading in their usual curiosity for a growing, grim acceptance.
"Why would they do that!?" Cog said, throwing up his hands. "I'm new to this world - is that it? Do they want me to go home? I'd love that, to wake up from these six-mouthed pumas and three foot tall metal sponge-haired scrawny pukes." He emphasized the last few words by gesturing at himself. "Or is it that they fuck with everyone and realized I personally never got a turn?"
"I don't know for sure, but that isn't it. Probably," Braune said. "The gods may not be benevolent, but they aren't that bad. Some are borderline nice, but only three or four are genuinely, a hundred percent 'good'. It's kind of their nature."
"Which is?" Cog asked.
Immediately, Noelle and Braune turned to face Xandir, who sighed.
"We've been over this," he said. "Gods are just concepts manifested into living organisms via intense chromal density and a heavy concentration of stem cells in a creature caught within the cloud that's created when-"
Xandir stopped, noting his teammates' expressions. Noelle was patiently watching with a slightly glazed look in her eyes, while Braune absently gnawed off a hangnail. When he saw Cog slightly swaying in place, eyes practically blinking individually, he sighed again.
"When a lot of chroma is in one place with a lot of the same kind of adaptable cell, it creates a new kind of lifeform. The chroma they're comprised of somehow determines what concept they're tagged with, which is what they act in accordance with."
"So if a bunch of fire and water chroma would clump together in one small space where some poor animal is healing, it would make a living creature that's... what, bipolar?"
"Not bipolar," Xandir said, "and that combination wouldn't work, anyways. No entity can hold opposite types of Chroma. It would be too volatile."
"Then what about... I dunno, fire and earth?" Cog asked.
"That would be Faith," Xandir said.
"Faith?"
"Yes, Faith. It's an odd result, until you really think about it. Fire implies passion and earth implies consistency and solidity. Your faith is a testament of both of those, hence Faith."
"So the gods are also named after their own concepts?"
"Pretty much," Noelle said.
"And why are you guys more willing to talk about gods in regards to Faith? You were just tight-lipped," Cog said.
There was a shared, nervous glance.
"Some gods aren't worth mentioning, lest you suffer their ire for daring to even speak their names aloud."
"Ah, great. So, what, is it a Voldemort situation too? Saying their name gives them power? If I say their name three times in a mirror, will some magic entity reach through the reflection and choke-slam me?"
"What's a Voldemort?" Xandir asked.
"Doesn't matter," Cog said. "Just an idea from my world, about as ridiculous as all this."
"This is a serious issue," Braune said. "Gods can sense whenever their concept is invoked in any way, and uttering their name is kind of like forcing yourself - even for a second - into that concept's invocation. Like saying steak and tasting steak on your tongue, but more... vague."
"And if you live your life in a way that invokes one concept far more than others," Noelle said, "then that god could bestow a blessing upon you."
"What's a blessing in this context?" Cog asked.
"That depends," Xandir said. "Sometimes it can be simple words of wisdom that you needed to hear. Sometimes, it could be insights you've been missing or even locations you should go to. It's rather easy for them to communicate through their followers."
"In the more extreme cases, they could go as far as crafting a skill or ability for you," Braune said. "This could go beyond the scope of concepts you're usually stuck to when crafting abilities. You'll know what I mean once you get your magic."
"In the most intense of cases, they can go as far as granting you a transformation, overall permanent stat boost, or even granting you a racial trait mutation or two. Physical mutations aren't out of the question, either."
"So stay on the good side of the gods and try to keep my mind either as chaotic or as mellow as possible. Balance everything out?" Cog said, and everyone else nodded.
"Well, what can you tell me about it?" Cog asked. "The god that flicked me in the synapses, I mean."
"Nothing, until you've gotten to a better mental state than one would be in when de-limbed and forced to act like an animal or risk death," Xandir said. "Don't want any of the gods taking that opportunity."
"And about my other questions?" Cog asked. "I'd love to know more about all-powerful entities, but I'm right about to either crash or get my fifteenth adrenaline rush in a row. If I can't learn about the god that fucked with me, what about what I actually am? You tried to explain it a bit before, but that didn't answer my questions - it just gave me more. On top of that, why did a hospital made for people take me in, especially like this? I'd like to think I've earned a few answers at this point."
“You are a pech,” Noelle said, “which means you’re a humanoid. The recovery stations can heal any humanoid that needs it, and pech are a bit of a rare thing. If we see one in an ecosystem, our job is to make sure it’s okay. Same goes for any other humanoid beasties we might come across that support an ecology entirely - or even partially - on their own. We even have veterinary clinics for the more animalistic creatures. As for what exactly you are? The pech are very rare and small in number, and nobody can keep them properly contained or observed for long enough to properly research them.”
"You could join the Exploration Gentry and let them observe how your body works - give both them and yourself a better idea of what you're working with," Xandir added.
"And they won't burn me at a stake for being an arnik?" Cog asked.
"Not at all," Noelle said. "The worst they'd do is keep you at their dormitories for a few days so they can ensure you're stable before helping you get to that training annex we mentioned."
All at once, the anxiety Cog had felt was abruptly and massively reduced, only a mere fraction of the weight on his shoulders. Having guaranteed protection for at least a little while meant he'd have time to think, which also meant he'd have time to plan his next moves. He might even be able to get some resources.
Cog also noted it was significantly harder to focus on the others in the car - his eyelids felt like lead shutters.
Xandir noted Cog’s struggling squint and smiled.
“Actually, how about we all take a nap now?” he suggested, Noelle and Braune nodding in enthusiastic agreement. As they all got comfortable, Cog almost immediately fell into a deep sleep.
“Do you think he’ll want to sign up for the Exploration Gentry, if not the PMIs?” Noelle asked after a brief pause. Xandir tilted his head, lost in thought. After a few moments, he spoke.
“I think he’s more likely to choose that than to go back to a cavern in the middle of the wilderness, especially if he is what we think he is. It's not easy going from civilization to instincts and hunting-gathering.”
“I agree.” Noelle said. “I’m not entirely sure if he’ll want that, though; the Gentry may not even accept him, if we bring him to the wrong advisor or outpost. After all, Arniks are usually sentient species and not wild, magical animals. We don’t even know if the drop suite will work on him, seeing as he may have too much magic in his body as it is.”
“Oh, I’m positive those’ll take.” Xandir said, smiling at the suspicious look from Noelle. “Think we should inform him of the Contingent and the Tribunal? He might want to join one of those.”
“I think we should get him his magic powers first and foremost, assuming you’re right about his potential in those regards.” Noelle replied, glancing back at the pech. “I’m sure he’ll be able to make it, if he wants it enough. After all, that’s how we’re all here. Besides, introducing him to every political, militial and governmental force on the planet doesn't seem like a great way to start a transition to a new life.”
“True enough.” Braune said, giving Xandir a pointed look. He chuckled softly at the shadow man's sarcastically offended posture.
“Let’s all just get some rest now. We’ll have all the theorizing and magic mumbo jumbo we can handle when we get back. Right now, I think we all need a good mental reset.” Xandir said, then leaned back in his seat. Noelle and Braune nodded, slowly easing themselves into a state of calm as the gentle rhythm of bumps and the rev of the engine lulled them into a state of tired relaxation.