The offices of the Exploration Gentry - the faction who Braune, Olga, Noelle and Xandir worked under - were widespread across the populated portions of the world. Reaching a branch from practically anywhere that wasn’t the middle of nowhere was a matter of hours, if not minutes; they had to be stationed near populous areas, due to their function in Æthounian society. While their core tenant was to ensure that ‘Everywhere is Seen’, their secondary purpose was to keep people safe from monster attacks. The sparse population of most of the planet meant that small towns and villages had little to no solid protection of their own, nor did anyone have a true military force. Most everyone on the planet had access to some form of magic or self-defense, and those who pursued a life of adventure would oftentimes trade off expeditions and time at home with one another for an extra layer of security protecting their families. Despite this, most individuals didn’t bother helping other cities or villages unless directly under the Exploration Gentry, so having the relatively nearby offices to all residences was a crucial part of civilian care.
While help was only ever a couple of hours away, it was still a couple of hours to survive without aid; this meant that there was a solid chance of an emergency going very, very wrong unless a proper Chroma user with some form of mobility magic could deliver the alert and return. Even then, they could not always arrive in time to save many of those involved, if anyone at all. To remedy this, the Exploration Gentry had developed a significantly advanced method of translocation; an all-terrain vehicle called a Clanker. Most individuals and teams going out on an expedition took one along, providing a secure method of transport that was faster than most people could move, save for Chroma users with movement abilities. This allowed a whole team to travel at speed, letting their Mobility specialist act as either a scout or some much-needed, long distance communication. Communicators only had a set range that couldn’t be amplified without the proper Chroma abilities, and even then, the bolstering did little. Despite this, they were often vastly more popular than simply walking, considering many enjoyed the fresh air and leisurely ride that existed in tandem with the vehicles.
It was this reasoning that had led Xandir to agree with his teammates on choosing a Clanker over walking to the nearby garage, which was a decision he reinforced in his mind thanks to the fact that none of them had proper movement powers to chase their target, should it come down to that. Braune, being the only exception, wasn’t the most observant or careful individual; if not approached tenaciously, their target could easily flee, kill or destroy its surroundings out of a base instinct to lash out. The magical manifestation they had been sent to investigate had been a Sioramoeba, which was known for its lurching speed and unpredictable movement. Catching up to it in a timely manner would be critical; if it got too far, backup would never reach the team in time should the target decide to become hostile. Unfortunately, not a single one had been within a two-mile radius of the cave where they had found Cog, and they were forced to fill out the report as incomplete.
It was this failure that gnawed at Olga as she gently pulled her napping team into the Exploration Gentry parking lot. She glanced behind her as she put the Clanker into park, passenger seats visible through a small pair of tempered glass panes. Her eyes rested on Cog for a moment longer than she had wanted, tearing them away to ensure the rest of her team was safe. After she confirmed her allies were accounted for, her eyes drifted back to Cog.
He was an enigma, to be certain; she’d never known an Arnik, nor seen one that hadn’t been strung up and beaten by religious zealots before they could live a proper life. While she herself shared in the extremist’s views to a small degree - admitting that overtaking another’s body for your own survival was certainly not okay - she also knew that the Arnik had no control over it, oftentimes hearing reports of them attempting to return the bodies they took over to their proper owners.
All of the attempts had failed horribly, taking the life of both souls within the body.
The fact that this individual, Cog, could possess a pech provided many disconcerting truths that she’d have to acknowledge sooner or later; chief among them being pech having souls. An Arnik would never be able to possess a body that held no soul, due to the soul needing to ensure its new body would be capable of holding one. It was a vastly complex subconscious and spiritual instinct, but it was an instinct nonetheless. The uncomfortable thought that the scores upon scores of goblinoids and monstrous humanoids she had slaughtered could very well have held souls of their own shook her slightly.
Something else about the newcomer confused her, however; his soul was definitely stronger than a pech’s, seeing as he held a high level of both intellect and potential. It was a telltale sign for souls that could sport Chromal power to its utmost potency, and yet his soul had taken over the body of a small magical creature that, to her knowledge, held no methods to normally absorb Chroma.
Olga glanced at the drop suite in trepidation, resting in Cog’s relaxed hand. If he couldn’t properly channel Chroma, it would be a massive problem. Not only would his day to day life be significantly more dangerous, but his acceptance into society could be non-existent if he couldn’t contribute. Absently, she concluded that he had to have come from a world without magic, if from another world at all; his soul should have had the instincts needed to select a typical sentient species’ body, but instead chose something not dissimilar to a chimpanzee. She absently scratched the bridge of her nose, wondering if pech and chimpanzees were related, before shaking her head and finally parking the Clanker.
“Well,” She muttered, “Let’s get this show on the road.”
She slammed her open palm on the horn, and a handful of screams and thuds resonated from the back seat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“No, no, no! Cog, it’s 8-11-3, not 3-11-8!” Braune said in exasperation, throwing his arms in the air. “It’s like you’re purposely making mistakes!”
“Hey, I’m sorry!” Cog said, voice a bit snippy. “The breathing exercises I know are structured differently! Besides, constantly huffing whatever liquids you’re shoving into that Clanker doesn’t help my concentration.”
The team plus Cog had made their way into the garage of the nearby Exploration Gentry office, almost always empty of people and full of tools. There were at least a dozen more Clankers inside, and a series of red-violet workbenches lined the walls where cupboards and counters didn’t take up the space. The smell of burning oil and rubber made Cog crinkle his nose, but at least the scent of diesel was familiar enough. According to Xandir, the vehicles ran off of a very similar fuel to diesel, and Cog was immediately invested in the further parallels he had serendipitously found. It was here that the squad wanted Cog to learn the proper breathing techniques, allowing Braune to initiate the training.
This had proven to be a mistake.
“Why aren’t you using your diaphragm!?” Braune bellowed, knees bent and hands out in a palms-down position, thumbs right between his middle and ring fingers on both. He flung them out and pulled them in with a certain tenuous fluidity.
“My diaphragm?” Cog asked, eyes wide with angry confusion. “Since when was I supposed to use my diaphragm!?”
“Enough!” Noelle yelled, putting a hand up to each person. Braune rolled his eyes, huffing.
“Noelle, he needs to-”
“Oooh, don’t you dare start with me.” Noelle said, flashing him a dangerous glare. “I have been watching you every step of the way. You half-explain this stuff and expect him to understand it all with gaps filled in by his own knowledge.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Braune asked, genuinely confused.
“He doesn’t have that knowledge.” Noelle hissed, running a hand down her perturbed face. Braune, for his part, blanched in realization before turning back to Cog, who looked shellshocked at the outburst.
“I, uh…” Braune started, but Cog held up a hand.
“I get it, man.” Cog said. “I get ahead of myself too. Way more than I should, really; I’ve confused a lot of people I didn’t want to. Maybe we can start from the top, one last time for the day?”
Braune nodded. Both of them took a cleansing, deep breath, then began the lesson anew.
“That’s the fourth time they’re restarting.” Olga said, walking over with an oily rag. Once she was done using it to wipe off her hands, she tossed it over her shoulder.
“Yep.” Noelle nodded, tilting her head. “I haven’t seen someone focused like him in a long time. He’s got tons of patience, and I’d love to know what techniques he uses to maintain it.”
“I wouldn’t think he uses techniques like that.” Xandir said, drawing looks from Noelle and Olga.
“That’s the only sensible way he could do that.” Olga said, Noelle nodding her head in agreement.
“You forget; he comes from another reality. If his doesn’t possess magic, why would it hold techniques for being patient?” Xandir said. “It doesn’t make logical sense to me.”
“You do realize that magic is not the only reason people learn techniques for patience, right?” Noelle said, giving Xandir a flat look. He rolled his eyes in response.
“I suppose it is just a gut feeling,” he said. “Something about him appears… attentive, I suppose? Perhaps a bit eager? He seems to actually want to learn, as if he refuses anything that might stop him. If nothing else, it does not seem like a technique to me.”
“I… can actually see that, yeah.” Olga said, blinking. “For once, Xandir, you’re making some semblance of sense.”
“Olga and Xandir agreeing, with the former not talking nonsense? Now all that needs to happen is to see an internal revenue office shut down for fraud, and we’ve got the triage of impossibilities.” Noelle joked, and Xandir gave her a jovial glance.
“Careful. That could become a national emergency.”
The pair laughed and bantered as Olga maintained her gaze on Cog, who was still struggling to get the proper timing down on his breathing. She tuned out the others as she allowed her full focus to lock onto the pech, whose face was flushed due to a lack of oxygen. Still, he kept trying to learn the breathing exercise, and Olga couldn’t help but smile to herself. She thought back to when she was a kid, trying her hardest to get the breathing just right. Most Æthounian people had an instinctual, general understanding of the breathing techniques required in the manipulation of Chroma, though the Xytos were the leading cause of it. Someone not used to having them, like Cog, would be at an inherent disadvantage.
Olga then recalled how she would often threaten her parents with holding her breath if she didn’t get what she wanted, which inadvertently aided her in her role on the team as frontline attacker. All of the practice holding large quantities of gasses in her lungs and diaphragm actually better prepared her body’s ability to expand Chroma capacity and regeneration, which let her charge up powerful attacks far faster than anyone else at her threshold. She silently pondered giving the anecdote to Cog, or possibly incorporating it into his training, but she put the thought aside temporarily.
Her smile went to a broad grin as Cog finally got the proper timing down, and Braune cheered him on excitedly.
“That’s it!” Braune exclaimed. “You need to take deeper breaths, but that’s it!”
“Glad… To be… Adequate.” Cog panted, out of breath. “I think? Was that… Adequate..?”
“Yes, it was for now. I-” Braune began before lunging forward, catching Cog’s unconscious body quickly. The three observers all smirked at once, remembering their own training debacles.
“How long do you think he’ll be out for?” Olga asked.
“My vote’s on around three minutes,” Noelle said.
“I’m right next to him, and he seems out for the count,” Braune said. “I’m saying ten to fifteen minutes, minimum.”
The three looked to Xandir, whose eyes betrayed a grin.
“Seventy seconds.” He said, and the others erupted into complainants and groans.
“Calm down, all,” he said. “It isn't as if my estimates ever turn out.”
“Yeah, but you actually know more about this guy’s situation.” Braune grumbled, jabbing a thumb towards Cog. “You probably know something we don’t - some crap about Arniks not needing so much time to get back up or something.”
“Actually, yes.”
Another chorus of perturbed noises rose in reply, and Xandir smiled.
“The reason is actually interesting," he explained, "and it's because of the two souls in the body-"
“We don’t actually care, Xandir,” Olga complained. “You took the fun out of this. I didn’t even get to start the bets.”
“Which is beneficial, because..?” Xandir replied, gesturing with his hands to urge Olga on. She rolled her eyes, replying in a voice akin to a chastised teenager.
“Because bets are wrong, especially over the health of others.”
“Exactly.” Noelle said, getting a flat look from Xandir. She raised an eyebrow.
“What?” She asked.
“Really? Agreeing with me now? And you, of all people, on this particular topic?” Xandir said.
“Yeah. It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
“That’s not the point. I can quite literally see the handful of blues you were prepared to slide into Olga’s hand.”
A flash of movement and what sounded like the clattering of spilled marbles reverberated through the extensive garage.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Noelle said. Xandir shook his head disapprovingly.
“Either way, Cog should awaken within a couple of seconds. Braune?” He said, and Braune reached into the air in front of him, pulling out a large flask and small loaf of bread from seemingly nowhere.
“Three… Two… One…” Xandir muttered, then pointed a finger at Cog. When nothing happened, his shoulders slumped slightly. “That’s odd. I could have sworn-”
He was interrupted as Cog sat bolt upright, gasping in air.
“Ah, there it is.”
Braune wasted no time, helping Cog support himself. The large man pushed the bread and flask into Cog’s hands gently.
“Go ahead and eat up. You must be hungry, right?”
Cog nodded, ravenously tearing into the bread. When he had nothing but a small handful left of the loaf, flask still untouched, he looked up at Braune with a combination of confusion and slight irritation.
“Wait. Why didn’t you give me the food first?” Cog asked.
“Simple,” Braune said. “A lot of people pass out when they first try the breathing technique, and some people vomit immediately after. If you’d have thrown up, it was very likely you could’ve started to drown in it. At least with us giving these to you after the first time you try the 8-11-3 method, your stomach is empty. You shouldn’t pass out again, and if you do, you’re less likely to have such a violent reaction.”
“You have no idea just how empty my stomach was,” Cog said with distaste, before hearing clattering behind him. He and Braune both turned to see Noelle struggling to reach underneath a Clanker, her retracted hand holding a few blue drops.
“You, uh… You good there?” Cog asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah.” Noelle said, half-yelling from beneath the vehicle. Her arm rose from under the front end, waving dismissively. “Someone left a bunch of blue drops laying around, so I figured I might as well scoop them all up. A few rolled under here, that’s all.”
Cog shrugged, turning to Xandir and Olga.
“I assume someone tried to make a bet?” He asked, gesturing to Noelle with his head.
“No!” Noelle called out.
“Yep,” Olga and Xandir both responded simultaneously.
“You got no proof!” Noelle said.
“Funny how someone left a bunch of blue drops laying around in a very public garage when every single person has an inventory,” Olga said.
There was a moment of silence.
“I’m... lucky..?” Noelle said, unconvincingly. Xandir rolled his eyes with a smile as Olga chuckled softly.
“Well,” Xandir said to Cog, “Now that you've had a taste of the most basic of skills you’ll be required to master to unlock Chroma, do you believe your body is prepared for the strain?”
“No.” Cog said. “But that’s never stopped me before. It was 8-11-3, right Braune?”
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“Yep.” Braune said. “You sure you wanna keep going? We can take it slow; we’ve got the time here. It’s so early that nobody else will be arriving for hours yet.”
“I’m sure.” Cog said, then began the breathing exercise once more.
As he completed one full cycle of breathing, Xandir raised an eyebrow. After the seventh consecutive attempt, Xandir leaned towards Olga.
“Is it just me, or is he timing his inhalations flawlessly in every single attempt?” He whispered. "It only started three attempts ago, but..."
“I don’t think it’s just you,” she muttered. “It’s not perfect, but such consistency after being knocked out should have taken a lot longer. He’s nowhere near a prodigy, but I’d be curious to know how he’s so clear-minded right now.”
“You and me both.” Xandir muttered, glancing back at Noelle. She had paused her collecting to glance at Cog for a couple of cycles, then made eye contact with Xandir. They shared a silent conversation, both acknowledging Cog’s progress.
After another few cycles, Cog’s pattern shifted. He took a normal deep breath, then muttered something unintelligible for a long moment. Then, he took another deep breath.
It was perfectly timed, as was his breath being held, then expelled. The four onlookers shared a series of glances.
“That was... good.” Xandir said, a bit louder. “Rather good, in fact. How did you do it, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Ah.” Cog said, turning slightly bashful. “Well, I kind of cheated using the system.”
“And how’d you manage that?” Noelle asked, finally standing back up.
“I used the timer function,” he said, noticing everyone’s exchanged looks. “Did I do something wrong..?”
“Quite the opposite.” Xandir said, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s how we advise people who are struggling to approach it. People don’t usually think to do that on their own. It’s not bad, just… pleasantly unusual.”
“Yeah.” Cog said, half smiling. “I figure I’ll use the timer until I feel a natural rhythm form. After that, I’ll try doing it without the timer until it becomes second nature.”
“Okay, for real.” Braune said, rubbing his temples. “You’re not from this world, right? At all? And you're not some century-old guru of breathing or something wild like that?”
“Not unless this place is Earth.” Cog said, chuckling nervously.
“It’s definitely not.” Olga muttered.
“Then yes, I am most definitely not from here.” Cog said. "Also, I'm only twenty-three, so not a guru."
“I ask because you’re really good at the whole system situation.” Braune said. “Your consistency is also impressive - I assume that’s from the timer, as well?”
“No..?” Cog said, slightly confused. “It was just barely off each time, which is why I actually started using the timer.”
Once more, the four native Æthounians shared glances with one another.
“That’s… unusual.” Noelle said. “Normally, people can’t tell if they’re off or not. Is it a racial trait?”
“Not as far as I know? I haven’t really read through any of mine.” Cog replied uncertainly. “I’m able to do a similar thing back home… I was able to, at least. No clue if I can go back. Regardless, I digress; I’ve always been good with timing my own actions, and with the lack of fog in my brain, it’s so much easier!”
“Fog?” Xandir asked, and Cog nodded.
“It’s a sort of unfocusing of the mind, y’know? Can’t think straight?”
“That’s something magical creatures and Chroma users can’t physically experience; at least, not without a serious concussion.” Olga said. “It’s been at least a decade for all of us since we felt like that.”
“Lucky!” Cog said with a mock whine and a slightly upbeat tone. “For me, it’s probably only been twenty-four hours, if that.”
“It is a massive relief.” Braune said. “I remember having a lot of issues with that. Turns out, blood flow to my brain was partially blocked. The normal doctor I go to realized the change only after my body upgraded itself past the Red threshold.”
“That… doesn’t sound good.” Cog said, flinching slightly. “You doing better now?”
“I am, thank you for asking!” Braune said boisterously. “I’ve been taking far better care of myself since back then, though I can’t fully claim all the credit for that.”
“Oh?” Cog asked.
“Yeah, Chroma tends to set your default physical state not only exponentially stronger per passed threshold, but also closer and closer to peak fitness and health. Any lingering diseases and conditions are well past gone after Orange, even stuff like high stage cancer or Alzheimer's.”
Cog froze, blinking.
“I… Huh,” he said.
“What is it?” Olga asked, and Cog shrugged.
“I was surprised that I wasn’t surprised,” he said. “I know it’s magic, but healing such horrific diseases is still incredible to me. I assume they’re nowhere near as bad on this world?”
“That would be correct.” Olga said. “Healing magic is everywhere, and anyone with a Chroma ability that involves healing is both naturally and socially inclined to become a doctor. It makes for an easily maintained medical workforce. Unfortunately, fewer people have awakened those kinds of abilities these days, hence why we need to carry med kits; it's sort of a hot commodity.”
“Makes sense.” Cog said. “I’m going to master this breathing before even trying to take the drop suite, so in the meantime, what’s the plan?”
“Well, the plan was to have you absorb the drops and then help you decide where to go, but seeing as you still want to practice breathing, I suppose we could drive around and give you a tour,” Braune said.
“I’ll stick behind for that,” Olga said, gesturing to the vehicles. “I’ve got half a dozen oil changes to perform, and I need to check the coolant and capsules in all of them. It’s patrol day in two days, and since it’s my turn to maintain the vehicles, I want it to be done and over with.”
“I’ll stay here, too.” Noelle said, eyes darting to the Clanker she’d been reaching under briefly. “No particular reason. Make it a guy’s day!”
“That’ll be a party of two,” Braune said. “I need to make my way back to the mess hall and help prep breakfast.”
“Then I suppose it’s just you and I.” Xandir told Cog, eyes soft. “I should be able to answer a vast majority of your questions myself, and I should be able to direct you to individuals who can help you resolve the rest.”
"It's uh... it's kinda loud here," Cog said, frowning. "Could we go somewhere else?"
"Well, clankers with fresh installations do need to be test-driven. I suppose we could take one out for a drive - we'd choose one utilizing new safety features, so there's no risk of mechanical failure."
“Just going for a drive? Works for me,” Cog said, shrugging. “Maybe you can help me sort through all of my windows and menus, even the racial traits? ...Maybe?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Xandir chuckled, then guided Cog to the Clanker they’d arrived in. He held open the passenger side door for the pech to hop in.
“I have a driver’s license, you know.” Cog said.
“What's a driver’s license?” Xandir asked.
“Oh, dear.” Cog muttered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After an extensive list of Cog's safety concerns regarding Xandir's driving legitimacy went unresolved, unanswered or otherwise unnoticed, he showed Cog the frontmost cabin of the Clanker. Xandir had ultimately taken the wheel, as the controls were just far enough beyond Cog’s understanding that he felt unsafe to drive it; the steering mechanisms were closer to that of what he remembered seeing on aircraft in games on Earth - not to mention the long, wide dashboard filled with a half dozen shift sticks, over twenty buttons and nine different gauges that cumulatively made his head spin.
Xandir pulled out a map to explain the route he wished to take them along; the pair would drive down a long, winding path leading to a city called Eliriv, which was apparently home to Olga’s species, the Dracht. However, they would make their circuit across extensive farmlands rather than actually enter the city, and the overall journey would take a solid four to five hours, bringing them back to the garage just slightly past lunchtime. Cog was also surprised to learn that the time in this new world was nearly identical to his old world, except for a few points: their calendar had twelve months with twenty-eight days each, and a thirteenth month with twenty-nine. That extra day on the thirteenth month was used as a sort of annual get-together to ensure trade and goods were widespread across Æthoun - a global holiday that, in his own mind, Cog equated to a 'Super Christmas'. Each day had a solid 24 hours to it, with the normal 60 minutes to the hour and 60 seconds to the minute. Cog made himself familiar with the layout of the map, noting a few bizarre symbols that slowly drifted into the letters he knew as the cardinal directions, and he silently thanked his translation power. He noticed a few symbols right along their path, however, and Xandir neglected to mention a word about them. They looked like very simplified versions of red-eyed wolves, and Cog tilted his head, mulling over the different monsters he remembered that could fit such a description.
The engine quickly revved to life, and as they were just out of sight of the garage, Cog opened his mouth to ask about the odd markings. However, before he could get a word out, Xandir piped up.
“So. I imagine you’ve got a veritable storm of questions,” he said, glancing at Cog. “Before you make any inquiries, could you let me give you some basic information about your situation?”
Cog nodded and Xandir smiled slightly, taking his eyes off the road for half a second to acknowledge the pech.
“First of all, the Arnik situation. There’s a lot of bizarre soul interactivity going on within you, seeing as your spirit is suppressing another in the latter's own vessel. Nobody I personally know well is excessively knowledgeable in those areas of study, but I am aware of several institutions where you should be able to find individuals who can aid you. Some conflicts might arise while you undergo training because of your nature, and there’s a plethora of ways they could manifest. Please understand that we will be assisting you, should you still remain with the Exploration Gentry at that point.”
“Got it.” Cog said, slightly easing the tension he didn’t know he had on the topic, though his eyes didn't leave the symbols he saw earlier. Xandir nodded, then noticed the pech's gaze.
"I see you noticed the markings," he said. "Those are signifiers of monsters, if you couldn't guess; we will be safe, seeing as we've made precautions beforehand. We tend to secure all roads within a ten-mile radius around garage on a daily basis, neutralizing any threats to passersby, so those creatures shouldn't be an issue."
"And if they are?" Cog asked.
"Then I will take care of them. They seem to be no further than the red threshold in power, so it should be fairly simple."
"Are those markings ever wrong?" Cog asked, and Xandir nodded.
"They can be, but I haven't seen a wrong one in over a decade. To be fair, I personally fill out my maps a vast majority of the time, and I'm far more thorough than most, so it isn't a reliable failure rate for all maps. Besides that, I grabbed this map in a rush; you're unexplored territory, and I'm not particularly 'put together' at the moment, for lack of better phrasing. Still, the Clanker is safe - we reinforced this particular vehicle for longer treks through various areas. Even if the map I was given for today is false, the monsters around the path are a type I can defeat with relative ease."
Cog nodded, taking a deep breath. An awkward silence took hold of the car, though Xandir quickly put an end to it.
“Next, I would imagine you desire information on what exactly a pech is." Xandir scratched his chin before giving Cog a sidelong glance. "Do me a favor and activate that Race section in your menu, would you?”
Cog nodded, navigating the menu until a familiar block of information was laid before him.
[RACE: Pech]
“It just states my race.” Cog said, and Xandir's eyes glinted.
“Are you prepared to witness something incredible, Cog?” he asked, and the pech nodded.
“Make an expanding motion with your fingers, right over the name of your species,” Xandir said, and Cog complied. A sudden flood of text hit him like a tidal wave, and his eyes gleamed with the overflow of data as he read it all aloud.
[RACIAL SECTION
RACE: Pech (Arnik)
RACIAL MUTATIONS: 0
>N/A
RACIAL TRAITS
>BODY - HYPERTROPHY (Pech)
>MIND - INCESSANT (Human)
>AURA - AMALGAM (Arnik)
>SOUL - BEDLAM (Arnik)
RACIAL BOOSTS
BODY: 3 THRESHOLD MULT (Pech)
MIND: 1 THRESHOLD MULT
AURA: 1 THRESHOLD MULT
SOUL: 2 THRESHOLD MULT (Boosted from 1 THRESHOLD MULT from
{BEDLAM})
RACIAL ABILITIES
>{Avarice}
>{Darkvision}
>{Dual Nature}
LOCKED RACIAL ABILITIES
>{Minor Permeation}
>{Human Will}
>{Hybrid Nexus}]
“That is… a lot of info.” Cog said, blinking.
“Let’s dissect it, one portion at a time,” Xandir said. “You're aware of Arniks - someone whose soul, brought back to a physical realm, instinctively takes over a living body and suppresses the vessel's rightful soul. The other part, and arguably the more important part, is what race you’ve come into as an Arnik.”
“So. Care to finally inform me about whatever these ‘pech’ are?” Cog asked, then his face shifted into confusion. “Pechs? Peches? Pechi?”
“It's an invariant - the plural is pech.” Xandir said with a chuckle. “The short answer is, they’re a significantly more powerful and sparse variety of goblin. The longer answer is that they overlap not only with goblinoids, but also with fae, elementals and even mildly with imps. They tend to live underground and are most certainly nocturnal, only emerging from their hovels at night to hunt for food and gather any objects of intrigue within a half dozen miles of their homes. They enjoy communions of new sensations with others of their kind, it seems; we’ve received a handful of reports where particularly stealthy individuals managed to witness circles of them passing various objects around. Each pech was gnawing, closely inspecting or attempting to break the things they were passed. Nobody is quite sure why they gather, nor why they all share the experiences collected each evening, but I personally believe it to be a sort of bonding ritual. Think something akin to sharing food with a sibling, or dining with the family - evidence of a social species.”
“That makes sense. I have been really eager to learn new things as of late; I mean, I normally am, but ever since I’ve been out of danger, it’s been… odd.”
“How so?” Xandir asked. Cog tilted his head in consideration.
“The best way I can describe it is feeling extremely hungry, except in my brain instead of my stomach. Like I'm desperate to get new information or I'll wither away.”
“Interesting…” Xandir muttered, nodding to himself. “That could explain why they always claim so many items, sometimes even risking their well-being in doing so.”
"Explain why they steal stuff, you mean?" Cog asked, then shook his head. “More importantly, you said they also have fae and elemental backgrounds? How do those tie in?”
“Well,” Xandir said, “It’s widely believed that the Fae portion of them became hyper-fixated on the aspect of greed. Their goblinoid nature of greediness, and their fae emotional amplification push upon one another, akin to a feedback loop. As for the elemental part, well… Nobody’s positive how, but a few people - Olga included - speculate that they eat all of the gemstones and metals they find. Over time, this inured them to both the element and the Chroma type of Earth. In addition, being naturally magical creatures, they passively absorb Chroma to help them live. This extends their lifespans and accelerates their evolution, though not much has changed for decades in the latter regard. Due to their very nature and their inherent lack of aura abilities, their bodies vastly overcompensate; their body utilizes the mutagenic properties of the magic they absorb for physical gains, which is a typical default for magical creatures; denser and stronger muscles, harder and more flexible bones, that sort of thing. What’s after your race on there?”
“Racial mutations?” Cog asked, and shook his head. “I have none of those, but I got something called ‘Soul-Dense’ shortly after I opened my system. Said it’s one of five mutations needed to get a Racial Mutation or something.”
“That’s no concern at this moment.” Xandir said. “It’s essentially a way to grow yourself as a member of your species alongside your Chroma. There's a plethora of ways to receive mutations, and all include varying levels of unpleasant activity.”
“Moving on, then,” Cog said, scrolling down a bit in his interface. “The next things listed are racial traits, but I want to know about these racial boosts first.”
“Ah, racial boosts.” Xandir said wistfully. “They determine how high your stats are bumped upon crossing a threshold. It’s a base number plugged into a complex equation within your Xytos. Nothing really more to it than that.”
“Ah.” Cog said, frowning. He felt as though that wasn't all there was to them, but he was in no position to push the issue. “Let’s get to racial traits, then; I have Hypertrophy, Defiant, Amalgam and Bedlam. Each one has a different race listed by it, too - what’s that all about?”
“First of all, Bedlam and Amalgam - or similar racial traits - are always a given for an Arnik,” Xandir said. “It’s what allows the body to stabilize its two souls. You tend to receive one racial trait from your original species, then a final trait from your new body’s own kind. I can safely say that I haven’t a clue what Hypertrophy does, though I'd wager it has something to do with the pech's tendency to push magic into its natural growth."
“Noted. Another question,” Cog said, tone finally shifting from irritable nervousness to scholarly inquiry. “What was with Noelle claiming that souls aren’t good or evil? I thought people were their souls?”
“Ah, that’s a rather simple answer,” Xandir said. “As you grow with your Chroma, assuming you claim your own Chroma, you’ll gradually learn about yourself. Nothing so shallow as likes and dislikes, though it is part of the discovery process; no, you will discover you as each individual piece, then all of it combined into what is you as an individual. Through this, you’ll learn exactly what your soul is. To make a very long story short, though - and to disparagingly simplify it - your soul is most akin to a slate where your personality and such are written down."
"I think I get it," Cog said. "As you develop yourself, it gets written on that tablet, right?"
"Right," Xandir said. "Now, can a slate be good or evil?"
“No,” Cog said, true understanding dawning on his face.
“And if there’s taint upon it, is it the slate’s fault?”
“No, it isn’t!” Cog exclaimed, eyes widening. “I never realized souls were like that.”
“It could be unlike where you’re from; I only know how souls function in our reality. I have a feeling your soul functions the same way, though; you are an Arnik, after all, which implies your soul's functionality is compatible with ours, if not identical.”
“You’re right about that, I think,” Cog said, rubbing his temples. "This is just... a lot, y'know? It's hard to-"
He was interrupted by a sudden, violent impact against the side of the Clanker, causing Xandir to wildly jerk the controls in one direction. The vehicle was jolted upwards, its occupants tossed about as wet splattering, heavy crunching and almost sponge-like squelching reverberated in the air around them. The Clanker was very clearly no longer moving, and what could only be viscera spewed forth onto the windshield. Xandir frantically flipped switches, shifted several levers and pressed the buttons in a flurry of motion, but the Clanker was slowly lifting off the ground. Rather quickly, all contact between the treads and the dirt path beneath them was removed, causing the vehicle to shift slightly to the right.
What sounded like demonic laughter and guttural hissing reverberated in the two occupants' ears, and Xandir's eyes grew wider than normal. A second impact caused the Clanker to shift drastically to Cog's side; Cog himself was grasping onto the bottom of his seat for dear life, knuckles turning white. He looked about with wild and primal fear, unsure of what was happening.
"I thought you said this was secure!" he cried.
"That's because it was!" Xandir yelled back.
A third impact - accompanied by a final, peeling laugh - heavily shifted the Clanker on its side, Cog losing consciousness as he bashed his head against the solid metal door. The last thing he saw before it all went dark was a hunchback creature with long, shaggy fur.
Its sharp, serrated teeth were a sickening yellow as its maw opened, fresh blood glistening in the mid-morning sun.