“Before we begin,” Order turned to face Renewal, startling her. The sudden spotlight sent the girl’s thoughts whirling into overdrive.
Big Sis Order only talks to someone if she needs something from them; so she needs something from me? Did I do something wrong? Was Big Sis Order angry with how late I was? Could it be that I’m dressed inappropriately?
Renewal hurriedly ran her hands down her dress, patting herself down looking for the offending accessory. And for whatever reason, began frantically checking her pockets.
“…I’ll have to clarify the specifics of your ability.”
Oh. Okay. She could do that.
“From what I have here,” Order consulted her notebook. “it doesn’t say anything about how your ability is used. Has the God of Stories and Creativity filled you in on the details of what we will be engaging in during the next few days?” Renewal shook her head, then spoke.
“…well, I don’t exactly know if this will help with the experiment in any way… but how my powers work is… I hold out my palms towards whatever I want to use it on,” Renewal demonstrated thusly, pushing out her two arms. “…then squeeze it out from there.”
“So you don’t initiate physical contact with your target?”
“…if possible, I don’t want to touch them…”
Order’s pen flowed across the open page of her notebook. “Well, I’m afraid that over the next few days you may have to overcome that phobia of yours, God of Renewal. That’s precisely what we’ll require you to do. Plus, this might improve the effectiveness of your ability as well. If you can accomplish what I’ve written down here with the mere scattering of divine energy from afar, think about how much more potent it’ll be when you’re two steps away.”
Renewal flinched at the idea. She’d have to put her hands on an icky… thing from some backwater planet? She hadn’t even touched something from a frontwater planet! Renewal furtively glanced at Order’s face. An expectant look was plastered across it. Seems like the touching part was absolutely non-negotiable for the project.
And there was no way Renewal was going to let her down.
So with grim determination, she clenched her fists to her chest to steel herself. “If that’s what Big Sis Order needs from me, I’ll do my best!”
Order nodded. Alright. Everything was in order. Nothing left to do but to set the ball in motion. “That’s all, I suppose. Let us prepare to depart.”
Travelling through space within the Dimensional Wall - flying - was a wildly different experience for Original Existences compared to their lesser counterparts. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t do it, but it was a hassle to do so, which is why almost all of them preferred to walk (Technology was an outlier, he loved to fly around).
The lesser Gods had it easy; within the Wall their bodies were immaterial anyways - the result of the divine plane attempting to expel what it believed to be foreign articles. The rejection forces acting on them as they remained in the heavenly realms was akin to say, a liquid enveloping them at all times - a sort of thick, oozing custard. You could push through it with minimal effort, sure, but you’d constantly be sinking back down into the invisible sludge.
For Gods like Order, however, this was the reverse: the divine realm hugged them tightly, tethering them firmly to reality. After all, it seemed to reason, they belonged here, on the ground. Not gallivanting recklessly about in the air. What if they got hurt?
As a result of this smothering, Gods had to rely more heavily on their energy reserves or other such workarounds to transport themselves through the skies. Truth liked to puff up a couple of balloons and circulated divine energy within them to provide thrust and lift. If he wanted to, Life could simply will the air around him to carry him to where he wished to go – the realm was like another limb to him, after all. Technology relied on his inventions: divine jetpacks, air solidifiers, quantum translocators – you get the idea.
And Order? Well, she believed in practicality above all else. What could be more practical than forming a pair of wings?
It didn’t take much time for the three of them to touch down onto Blessed 903; about an hour or so of uneventful, uninterrupted flight.
Order had taken the lead, naturally. She was the only one who could have - if she let Stories assume the role of navigator, they’d be stopping by every planet he found vaguely interesting. The trio landed in an open clearing matted with dark red grass, surrounded by densely packed trees and canopies which shared the same coloration. Blood red, Renewal thought, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow. What sort of evil monster was going to spring out at them?
Noticing her distress, Stories laid a reassuring palm on her shoulder. It did nothing to calm her quivering of course, but it made him feel like he was helping in some way. “Oh come on miss Renewal… There’s nothing to be afraid of! I’m sure your big sis Order triple checked that whatever lives on this planet is all fine and dandy. Right, Order?”
“All I know is what’s recorded in the books. From what I can tell, yes, the only species that could conceivably pose a threat – if even that – are the Plerbies. And they’re herbivores.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.”
“On the other hand, I would like to preface that statement with the fact that these records were taken three decades ago; there may have been new developme-“
“nopenopenopezipit YOU DON’T HAVE TO KEEP TALKING- Renewal, listen to me, it’s going to be fine, y’hear me? Just fine.” Stories flashed a smile at the mildly vibrating child. “We’ll be in and out in a jiffy, anyways. Just tap and go. No need to stay too long on this spooky rock.”
Order opened her mouth to correct Stories. They’d at least have to remain in the vicinity of the planet for about a week or so, to observe the impact of their actions. Perhaps Renewal might even be needed to perform her role multiple times over the course of their stay here.
But she subsequently clamped it shut. Stories was glaring pointedly at her, gesturing at the small, hyperventilating girl. Order mimed a zipper over her lips. Message received.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
“In any case, the habitat of the target species should be up ahead.” Order pointed into the tangle of trees at a sizable pile of leaves and branches in the distance. “The Plerbies collect and stockpile fallen vegetation for consumption. Where there’s one pile, there’ll be a Plerby around guarding it. So keep your eyes open.”
“Oh, look. There’s one already.” Stories squinted into the darkness. “Doesn’t look like a big one though. Eh. I’ll take what I can get.” He floated over to the vague purple blob, Renewal trailing behind him nervously.
“So how does this work, I go first and Renewal goes after me?”
Order grumbled as she fought her way through the brush. Her robe was getting caught on the tiny thorns and branches which crackled unpleasantly in response to the sudden intrusion. It didn’t leave any markings on the white fabric, thankfully; the close contact with her divine form over multiple centuries had conferred upon it a gentle repelling field that kept dirt and small tears from marring the pure, colorless canvas. But just having to force her way through the native flora was enough to irritate Order. She was a God, for heaven’s sake. These plants should have parted and given way as soon as they came into her divine presence. And for that matter, why couldn’t these young ones spare a thought for those that couldn’t literally phase through every obstacle in their path?
“I’ll be there momentarily. Just keep an eye on the specimen and make sure it doesn’t lumber off.”
“Aye aye, captain! My two eyeballs are glued to the thing. I mean, it’s just a baby, anyhow. Just look at it.” Order finally emerged victorious from her battle with the brush and liberated herself from the mess of twigs and leaves with a huff. She brought her gaze to bear on the creature Stories had found.
Certainly, it seemed to be an infant Plerby; it was around eight times smaller than one of the species more matured forms and it was currently plopped down in a relaxed seated position, legs lazily spread apart. While it had not noticed the two spectres that were directly on top of it, when Order arrived it had turned its head towards the noise and was now examining the visitor God with much naïve curiosity.
“Not much of a guard, is he? The tyke isn’t going to scare off a flea, let alone a fully grown bear.”
“They may be less than intelligent by our standards, but their natural instincts lead them to respect territorial boundaries. A baby means parents, means unnecessary conflict. Besides, their hides are tough enough to withstand attacks from sharp instruments or as is more likely in this environment, strikes from claws.” Order explained as she brushed her robes off with a hand, an action that was unnecessary given the aforementioned field of divine energy, but which gave her some measure of comfort anyway. The Plerby, which was probably being exposed to more stimuli than it had ever received in its short existence, began to imitate Order, stroking itself with a furry paw.
“Lookit that, it’s copying you! Ain’t that cute, eh, Renewal?” Stories nudged his peer with his elbow, prompting a small smile from the girl. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Watch what I do, OK? You’ll be doing this right after me.” Stories cracked his knuckles showily, and approached the infant. “One dose of Divine Inspiration, coming right up!”
Placing his intangible palms over the dark purple fur, he concentrated and willed his power through them. The glow around them slowly intensified until his hands became fully solid, at which point Stories held the position for a couple of minutes more. The Plerby didn’t notice the set of disembodied hands, however, choosing instead to stare at the funny white lady who was currently overseeing the operation with crossed arms, book and pen dangling off her hands.
“Alright, your turn, miss.” Stories withdrew his palms and they quickly returned to an intangible state. “It’s easy, just focus and push outwards. Easy peasy. Just relax and do what you always do.” Renewal timidly nodded as she took Stories’ place next to the creature. With two trembling palms, she laid them onto its fur, and began to accumulate power around them. The baby hadn’t noticed before when Stories was enveloping it with his ability, but it certainly noticed Renewal’s attempt, responding to the weird warmth around its back with a confused whine.
“You’re good, just keep going. Your power’s different from mine, so it just feels it differently. Probably.” Renewal continued her transfusion, her hands emitting a light green glow as they became tangible.
But just as the injection of energy was reaching the minute mark, it burst.
To be more specific, the entire back of the Plerby popped like a bubble, scattering flesh and bright red blood everywhere. Renewal shrieked and withdrew her power, the blood droplets which had touched her skin phasing through as she did so. The Plerby had begun to cry loudly, collapsing into a fetal position, paws reaching behind itself helplessly to probe at the sudden jolt of pain that had come from nowhere, then pulling them back as they brushed across open nerves, further intensifying its screeches of anguish. Tufts of bloodied fur and flakes of shattered bone were strewn around the grass floor, with the baby bear shivering and whining in its epicentre. Whines that were steadily growing softer and softer.
Stories quickly went to Renewal’s side and cooed small reassurances to calm her down as best he could. He turned to look to Order, to get further instructions on how to salvage the situation. From what he could tell, the experiment was a huge failure. Her plan wasn’t going to work. But all he saw when he turned was a pen furiously scribbling, transcribing the graphic results of the first experiment as well as the variables which had caused them onto paper.
Witnessing Order’s general disinterest and still gently stroking the traumatized, curled-up Renewal to comfort her, all Stories could say were two words.
“Ah, crap.”