I dislike my creator very much. Most people would share my opinion when they realise the nature of her occupation.

She is a necromancer, a career that is frowned upon for obvious reasons, tampering with the sacred concept of life and death one of them.

But she does not lose my favour for that. I could not exactly hate the field of magic that gave me life and is ingrained deep within my own mind.

My dislike stems from something much simpler. She fails to see her own greatness in the pursuit of besting another in an area she was not meant to.

She was so great in creating autonomous creations like me. Yet she chases after the one called Amber and her endless and mindless horde of undead insects.

And so, my siblings’ upkeep was neglected in her endeavour to make more of us to, as I quote Creator, “Beat Amber at her own game.”

The childish nature shown through her rivalry was only further punctuated by her diminutive size, a strange desire to wear elaborate black dresses and an insistence, which lost only to besting Amber, on appearing as young as possible.

She has subsequently been dubbed “Anne the doll” for these idiosyncrasies.

Alas, her determination is deserving of praise. She had neglected the achievements she had made in making new consciousness from souls yet still garnered enough attention from the ruling bodies to placed her within the ranks of ‘Titled Mennaces’.

Her own zealous nature was in display even now as we travelled through the ‘Belt’ of the Unknown to find new candidates for her army’s ever-shifting numbers.

“Staff. Ready the undead, my familiars are picking something up.”

“Yes, creator.”

“Good. And call me master. Not creator.”

I fell back into silence as I communicated with my currently deployed siblings, one hundred in all, and had them enter their formation.

Those that used to be physically strong specimens moved to the front while those with magical or ranged attacking capabilities lined the back.

The scouting familiars, dead crows, returned and Creator took hold of me and directed our gathering forward.

We exited the clearing and came face to face with a rather exotic creature. While the enlightened species account for the vast majority of vampirism cases, they do not hold monopoly over it. A prime example of their diversity was standing in front of us in the form of a vampire orc.

Creator was not phased by this and initiated her favoured strategy, the human wave tactic. Five minutes and five irreparably damaged sibling later and she has secured herself a potential new thrall.

“Night fall should be upon us now Cr-Master. The transformation process should commence shortly.”

“Ah. The sun is finally setting. Good. Staff, get the materials we have gathered today out of the dimensional pockets.”

I did as told and got the corpses we have managed to amass from the day. Ten goblins, six orcs, one ogre and the highlight of today’s labours, a vampire orc.

She set about creating the magic circle needed to bind these bodies to her mass produced consciousness. A wasteful action in my eyes.

After all of the times I have ignored such misuse of resources, I deemed an intervention necessary.

“Cre-Master.”

“What is it? I’m trying to work here, tool.”

“Yes. I know that. But could you listen to an idea of mine.”

“And what would you, oh so wise staff, suggest I do?”

“I think it would be wise if you put more effort in this batch of undead. You are much more talented in crafting individuals than a mass army that you are trying now C-Master.”

“Uhuh. And lose out to the bitch Amber again when her bugs swarm my special snowflakes.”

“There are plenty of cases where number means little in combat against the undead. An example would be in how abomination could simply absorb the army sent to fight it. You are perfectly capable of implementing the counter measures needed against amber’s bugs.”

I was ready for one of Creator’s more colorful language choices, but they did not come. She simply adopted a thinking pose.

“Hmm. That bitch has not been able to make one yet. The methods are there, but the process could be dangerous. I have no way of making sure what ends up as its consciousness, unless-”

Creator looked upon me for the first time with desire and a manic grin. I decided that I did not like that look.

An hour or so later into the night and Creator has aligned all of the morning’s harvest onto a new magic formation. I was tied down right beside said formation and has already made my peace with my possible demise to Creator’s newest creation.

Creator has deemed it fit that I be the anchor that binds to soon to be birthed abomination to her commands. My task would be to dominate the newly formed consciousness of her creation, an undertaking that could either do nothing to me or strip me of everything that I am. The results depended on how potentially powerful and rebellious the freshly spawned consciousness was.

Looking at what was by definition my mother work away with a smile on her face the possible tool to my death was an experience that gave my unfeeling and dead body a sense of pain.

I have never before contemplated a desertion of Creator despite my misgivings, yet now I truly wished I have.

The notion was an obvious impossibility. Creator had ample restrictions and sensors placed upon me. Any attempt would have been detected without fail.

Yet, the fear of consequences matter none now. I relished my last few free thoughts thinking of the dream. The possibilities for my own knowledge to grow within the ever-distant state of freedom. The very concept of being independent.

Creator continued to work fervently on.

Parallel to my own musings on the contingencies set in place should I fail, Creator seemed to have completed all preparations and is now supplying the necessary negative mana from all of her reserves to begin.

Her small stature and short fluffy blonde hair now contrasted harshly against the blood red eyes that looked hungrily towards the banefully glowing green formation.

The sensation of a mental connection began to manifest between me and the core within the center. The bodies drifted closer and closer together while slowing losing their original luster and turning black.

A complete connection was established. All of the bodies have extensively covered the core and I began the ironic activity of praying to the gods while Creator went against their teachings.

There was no immediate attack upon my consciousness and hope bloomed within me for an opposing mind that was simple and weak. That hope was dashed when a thought that was not my own rang clearly within the silence.

‘Urgh. That was not a pleasant trip. I think I hit something on the way. I just hope Brandon had it better.’

Staying silent would likely antagonize the new entity that felt much more developed and confused than I am. Thus, I reached out.

‘Um. Can I help you?’

‘Great. Schizophrenia can be ticked off the list then.’

Hysteria and sarcasm was easily understood. The statement itself was not.

‘Uh. What is schizophrenia? Is it a thing that I can provide?’

I was noticed. The voice now projected caution and timidity. The force it represented in my senses and its behavior was a stark contrast. An appropriate picture of this would be a dragon asking timidly for a farmer’s eggs.

‘No. Could you at least tell me what is going on?’

‘Oh. We are in the connection phase to control a newly created abomination.’

The confusion spiked.

‘We are in the WHAT to WHAT?’

‘The process should be finished now. You can feel the difference for yourself.’

The new voice stopped communicating and the completed abomination shifted.

One ghostly blue eye stared back at me and Creator from within the black substance that the corpses have become.

Slowly, the amalgamation of filth and rot realigned the bones within to give shape to my newest brother. The misshapen bodies were attached to each other at varying angles through copious amounts of viscous black necromass. The first limb was soon cracked into shape from an orc and dragged along the enormous body towards us. Creator turned towards me and ask.

“That doesn’t look right, why is the eye not red? Staff, tell me you at least have that under control.”

I probed the connection again and noticed a cacophony of emotions. Confusion was chief amongst them, followed by disgust at his own form, fear of the other siblings around us and a miniscule quantity of curiosity directed at Creator’s presence.

“No, Creator. My Brother is neither falling under my control. Nor is he thinking properly.”

Creator paled visibly and my manual override activated.

“Staff, use whatever undead you have left to ensure my escape from here.”

“Yes. Master,” my flatter than usual reply was all that I remembered before my own awareness was cut off.

Consciousness returned to me after an indeterminable period. The sight that heralded my return was the broken bodies of my siblings, strewn about everywhere and I was in the middle of it all. Confusion was predominant state of my mind, another was a small amount of elation at not seeing Creator around or sensing her hold over some of my free will. There was an additional background of emotions surfacing. They were curiously not my own.

My peculiar predicament was explained when a blue orb peered down at me and a voice came back into my mind.

‘Hey. You’re up again. What happened back then? The woman just dropped you and ran. You started to fire greens bolts and all of those zombies jumped on me. I kept trying to get to you, but you were just not there.’

The source of external emotions asked hurriedly. His own roiling pool of worry and mild excitement a strange contrast to my own lethargic calm.

His statement was processed within the following few minutes. I now felt a sense of panic.

His words brought back a detail that I overlooked in my moment of confusion. The override should have ceased all of my functions and thoughts indefinitely.

That creator did not trust me and activated it has firmly moved my view of her towards hatred.

I reprioritized the indignation for a more appropriate time. The conundrum must first be addressed.

‘How am I capable of conscious thought once again? What did you do to me?’

‘Oh. When you were firing spells at me and controlling the zombies, there was this one active red eye following me, so I pulled it out to hopefully blind it. And then I felt you back in here again.’

The large being gestured towards his head, the primary one.

‘I see. Brother must have removed Creator’s override mark from me.’

He was once more confused, but the undercurrent revealed a new addition. He was also growing anxious.

‘Ok. No idea what that means. Or any idea at all as to what happened after I fell asleep. This dream is pretty weird even by my own standards.’

‘I could offer some assistance if you would tell me the proceedings that have led us here.’

My request for intel was readily accepted.

If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

‘You know. I got on a bus, dozed off a bit and next thing I know, zombies are charging towards me and lasers were flying. I fought them off, those things don’t seem too tough and I looked like this.’

He gestured to himself with one of his many arms.

‘A condition that both enabled me to fight them off and deposited quite a lot of question on whether I had anything to drink before I got on that bus. And the urge to plunge my hand inside the corpses to do ‘something’ is a can of worms I refuse to open. Dream and boss zombie body or not, I don’t want too much contact with zombies.’

The majority of his retelling was done casually with a distinct detachment except for the details regarding himself. His disgust and discomfort was quite visible within my senses. Notwithstanding, I must clarify to achieve a proper grasp of his desired answer.

‘Brother’s predicament does sound strange. But why does it hold so many expressions I cannot fathom?’

‘What expressions?’

‘Those would be, bus, boss zombie and the can of worms that you are reluctant to open.’

He did not answer. A morose sense of hopelessness rose.

‘Ah. You know, this was already shaping up to be a lot like a common writing scenario and now with what you said about not knowing those common terms, things are falling into place even faster. So could you just put the last nail in the coffin and tell me what is the name of this continent?’

‘It would be Versalen.’

A prolonged exhale was released from his body before a sort of hollow laughter rang out from his body. Anxiety was pushed away.

Our conversation was resumed after a substantial exhale.

‘Hah. Alright. So I most likely died on that bus. Probably killed by a truck too. And now I look like this. In a world I have no knowledge of and my best friend is in who knows where. Great. Just great.’

He pointed towards his body. Disgust surfaced in copious amounts.

‘What do I even do now? Life was shit, but it was not that bad. Now I am a literal monster and am talking through my mind to a not so inanimate object.’

Melancholy echoed out between him and me. Another string of laughter followed.

‘I could go find Brandon, but how do you even start with that. He could be anywhere and I look like this. He’ll probably just run for the hills the moment he sees me. Or any human for that matter.’

His amalgamation of negative emotions could only be superficially filed as immense grief. Brother slumped a little right then and there was some small spasms within his upper body.

‘I can’t even cry properly too. Figures.’

A plume of debris rose. Brother expressed the building pressure on his thoughts through violence and laid down on the ground following his outburst. The agitation within him continued to climb.

While Brother continued to remain where he was, I contemplated on Brother’s crisis of purpose and how best to solve it. My thoughts returned to the blatant betrayal that Creator has committed to escape and the satisfaction that could be had if she saw Brother’s full potential.

‘Perhaps you could simply continue to live and strive to be better. It is always a good goal to have after an upheaval as great as what you have described. And Brother can absorb others into you so maybe we can find one with the senses needed to find Brother’s friend.’

He was not receptive. The storm within his mind remained raging. I kept quiet. The night grew on. The moon was past its zenith when I felt a change. Brother’s mind was exhausted and resigned. I tried again without any disruptions.

He rose at the suggestion to look at me. He held the stare. I repeated myself. He continued to be unmoving. His mind was moving. I felt mild sadness that brother would immediately doubt my intentions.

‘I do not mean you harm, Brother. You have saved me. I mean you all the best.’

Doubt continued to persist. I tried to reason again. My own emotions were laid forth to be an accompanying peace offering.

‘You have nothing to fear from me. I am genuine in my concern. You may feel so for yourself.’

He was now ashamed and averted his gaze. I could feel his thoughts now fully analysing my proposal. They fluctuated. The initial reaction was still skepticism. It moved onto resignation and eventually a sad acceptance.

‘I supposed you are right. They would have wanted me to live on.’

‘Good. Then we can show Creator what she left behind.’

He did not register my added goal. A reminder must be made at a later time. Brother’s condition is not particularly conductive of proper cognition.

‘Yeah. What you said.’

Brother stood up taller and spun his head around, seemingly looking for something within space.

‘Um. Where do we go from here?’

‘I believe we need more materials to grow you.’

He accepted with the pervading acceptance.

‘Ok. where do we go for that?’

‘I know of a place that Creator could not go to with her weaker undeads, but you can Brother.’

A substantially stable feeling was transmitted.

‘Why do I get the feeling that I might not like this?’

‘Worry not. Any ill will I might have for you will be transmitted through our link.’

Another appeared. Their existence now proving Brother was bettering.

‘Ok. And can we fix the way you talk?’

‘What do you find dissatisfactory with how I voice my thoughts?’

‘It’s not natural. Did you do a lot of talking before?’

‘Yes, I have spoken amply with Creator.’

‘Was it anything besides responding to orders?’

‘No. How would you know of that aspect of our conversations.’

‘You sound like one of those assistant robots in sci-fi movies so I took a guess.’

‘What is a robot and sci-fi movies?’

‘Let’s put those on the to learn list too then.’

More emotions returned.

And so we began our journey, me floating and Brother dragging his lower body around with his upper limbs.

Five days have elapsed from then and we were approaching the destination I have spoken of. Over those five days, Brother has regained positivity. There were still resurfaces of the negative, but he has improved.

He had also introduced me to so many concepts of his own life. I took particular interest in the automation processes of making things.

I could imagine the same being done by Creator had she allowed me a bit more freedom and created siblings that were as advanced as I was.

Their means of entertainment was interesting as well. Plays that can be seen in every household is certainly entertaining.

There were also things I dislike as well. Undeads were feared and loathed by most. Anything that has human levels of intelligence were looked at with apprehension. I fall into both of these categories.

‘Brother, are you afraid of me too?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘In your stories, there seems to be a lot of fear within the concepts that comprises me, an undead and an artificial intelligence.’

‘Ah. that. I guess I would be afraid of those if it was me from before. Now I cover half of those so there is definitely less. And even if I was afraid, I don’t think it will be of you. You are not going to be an evil overlord or hungering for my mind and soul. You are just you, with your own problems with this Creator.’

‘Thank you, Brother. That means a lot to me.’

‘It’s fine. I did not mention this before, but why do you call me Brother?’

‘We were made by the same Creator and you are male, so the title fits. What would you like me to refer to you as, if not that?’

‘You can call me Tim. It was and still is my name. And what can I call you? You must have a name right.’

‘Creator called me by Staff. Does that count?’

‘No. We need to get you a name then. Do you have anything in mind?’

‘I like the name of Olivia. Would that be good?’

‘Sure. It is your name so your choice matters most, Olivia.’

Our conversations from that point on gained increased ease and Tim talked more about personal details of his life. His topics remained within the upper layers of privacy when we arrived.

‘Hey Olivia. Is the place we are looking for a really dark and dank cave that’s in front of me?’

‘It is. Is there something amiss with that.’

‘It is a dark and ominous cave. There is literally nothing else around here alive too. That is just iffy, woman.’

Tim made one of the gestures that told of his incredulity. He indicated the uninviting appearance of the dungeon and barren nature of its surrounding with a wave of his several hands.

‘It is an enclosed ecosystem maintained by mana and has an abundance of living creatures within to grow you.’

‘Ah. so it’s an instance dungeon. And I am to grind in there.’

‘I don’t recall the structures being referred to with that additional term of ‘instance’. But yes, in your ‘game’ terms, we are going to grind in that instance dungeon to further your growth.’’

‘Ok. How do I do that? Growing is not something dead things are known to do.’

‘You just have to accumulate mass by devouring other life forms once you have killed them.’

‘And how do I do that? The accumulating mass thing, I know how to kill with this body, but not that.’

‘You just use the corrupting properties of your own mana.’

‘Right~. How do I use mana then?’

‘Oh. I forgot you do not have my pre-existing knowledge. That can be remedied easily if my own judgement of our bond is correct.’

I touched my head to his.

‘Can you detect a sensation of a flow in your mind right at this moment?’

‘Uhhh. Yes. What is that?’

‘I am transferring my own inherent knowledge of manipulating negative mana. It should be done soon.’

The position was held for a brief period before the transition was completed. We entered the cave.

The main variety of life within the underground structure was hinted at when we heard an intense hiss. Within approximate striking distance for us was a juvenile sorphis.

‘Olivia. What is that weird dragon looking snake?’

‘It is only a sorphis, you have nothing to fear. Their venom only works on organisms with a nervous system.’

‘Ok. That’s reassuring. So I just grab it and integrate it to me with what you sent me, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Alright. Here I go.’

Tim approached the hissing reptile hesitantly and extended a limb to grasp it. Instead of retreating, the snake lunged forward and into his empty right eyehole.

In his panic, Tim appeared to have triggered the absorption process prematurely and the snake writhed about in pain within his skull.

It was about to make a successful escape when the process completed, leaving an exposed sorphis corpse sticking out of Tim’s skull in place of another eye. I indulged myself in a bout of laughter at his expense.

‘Yeah. Laugh it up. It was hard seeing with one eye. Now I have to deal with one eye and a snake for vision. Can I move this snake to somewhere else on my body.’

‘I am afraid not. The amount of mana you applied was too much and the whole snake has been made a part of your skull. This is quite peculiar.’

‘Great. Just great. And why is this ‘quite peculiar’?’

‘An exertion of such an amount of mana is usually only possible near your core, but your core is located above your center of mass. Unless-’

I closed the distance between us and sent a probing string of mana into his supposed core area. The expected phenomenon of the core’s intense mana density to push my probe out did not occur. I replicated the procedure over other areas of his body and only found resistance near his head and every one of the skulls that have been integrated into his being. The intensity of resistance varied between the strength of the original monsters.

‘So I was correct, you do have anomalies with your core. Instead of a centralised core, you have multiple sub cores within every single head you have within your composite body.’

‘Ok. That’s good, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, To completely destroy an abomination is to destroy its core, so, in your own world’s term, you have multiple lives. And they can be increased too if my own conjectures are correct. I just need you to try and absorb another body.’

‘Alrighty then. I just hope I don’t end up with another snake eye.’

‘Their merits are abundant. The panoramic view afforded is an obvious boon. And their acquisition proves to be exceptionally entertaining.’

He did not reply and we walked deeper into the cave. We found another snake to confirm my theory on the creatures that this area held.

Evidence was also given to my hypothesis when Tim successfully captured and absorb the animal. I detected a weak new core.

After those initial days of freedom and discovery, we settled into a comfortable Routine of just clearing out ‘dungeons’ and moving on.

Tim shared more of his stories and I tried to reciprocate with ones of my own. Stories from each of our experiences were depleted within the first year.

From that point on, we simply talked about topics as we experience them. A figurative bond was forged to accompany the literal one within that period.

I found more amusement in Tim’s antics and he himself seems to be more energetic than the first days

Things were predisposed to continue in this calm manner until Tim can amass enough resources to venture with impunity from opposition and locate his friend Brandon.

That is, until after almost four years, we encountered an anomaly. A sudden burst of mana was felt by me and Tim. We observed a strange purple glow in the distance.

‘Hey, are you seeing what I am seeing?’

‘If you are referring to the spontaneous appearance of a building, then yes, I am’

‘’Want to get closer for a better look at it?’

‘No. it is clearly unwise. You are simply not meant for reconnaissance.’

‘Come on. I already condensed most of the dead biomass and slimmed down the whole frame, I can totally sneak.’

‘You are still, as you say it, fat. And that is not a quality desirable for subtlety.’

‘Alright. Got me with that. I’ll stay well hidden behind equally large trees then. Good?’

‘Doubt is still very prevalent within me.’

‘Well too bad. I am cashing in one of the dead pet favors.’

‘That is unfair and you are well aware of that.’

‘Uhuh. Tell that to all of the pets you have slowly killed with that ‘Aura of death’ of yours.’

‘Again, a clear act of cheating on your part in continuing to get these pets regardless of your knowledge of my innate ability.’

‘Details woman. Come on. It’ll be fun.’

‘I doubt that. Your definition of fun is very questionable.’

Regardless of my expressed doubt, I found myself following Tim through his own persuasion and my own curiosity.

The structure upon the clift was a tall tower projecting a magical signature that was quite substantial. Abysmal as Tim’s own sense for mana was, he too noticed and followed his words to stay hidden within the trees.

With his superior senses from selective monster killing, Tim picked up some activity outside of the structure

‘Hey. I think I see a kid walking out of that. Weird, where are the parent?’

‘They might be preoccupied with their own arrangements.’

‘It’d be funny if they were doing it and just left the kid out for some privacy.’

‘Those jokes are very uncouth.’

‘Yeah, that was too much.’

We continued our observation while the boy traverses around the base of the edifice.

‘Hey, I think we should go, the kid is looking at us.’

True to Tim’s words, eyes fixed on our position was the child. Calmly, Tim grabbed me and relocated us both well within the cover of the forest.

‘Olivia, did that kid seem overly calm when he saw us back then? I would be running straight for mommy if I saw something like me out in the woods.’

‘Perhaps he did not gain a proper view of us.’

‘That could be it. But I still want to try something and have some contact for us.’

‘Why do I have the premonition that this will not end well?’

‘It will be fine. I won’t do anything too drastic.’

And so I allowed Tim to once again cast the die on our fate.