V – 00001.9 – Outlaw

I shook my hand back and forth, whipping the blood off my fingers and claws into the dirt and trees, before bending down to pick up the Lepus Fortis by the ears, placing its ripped open throat to my lips, and sucking on its blood for the healing and stamina boost.

I walked back towards my camp, enjoying the feel of the earth beneath my feet, which were quickly becoming calloused. One unfortunate side effect I found of having bone claws was that gloves didn’t fit and it was impossible to put shoes on and wear them properly without cutting them to ribbons; however, I had come to quite enjoy being barefoot lately.

I traveled to the home I had made, which was slowly shaping up into a real home. I’d installed a small fire pit into the earth and used my new tools, which sadly needed frequent sharpening and replacing, to flatten one side of my logs. I then lashed them together and placed the logs into the ground I’d dug out with my hands to make a floor underneath the roof of my hut.

I stared at my small, wallless structure and squinted, imagining how it would change with the plans I had made—visions of log walls with clay and mud packed into the gaps to insulate the building overlaid reality. Opening my eyes the rest of the way, I walked towards my fire pit and laid the Lepus Fortis down.

I quickly went to work with my flint knife, slicing around its paws and the throat before cutting it open down the middle and gutting the mutated rabbit. Once I removed its organs, which were far too dead for me to eat raw, I skinned it and draped the fur over a small stick stand to deal with later. I skewered the rabbit and set it over my spit to roast.

Looking up, I saw another large cargo plane tearing through the sky, moving towards Anchorage.

“Fifth one this week, seems like big things are happening in the city, huh?”

"Yeah, it seems like the military is really kicking shit up, especially with the small convoy of cars we saw leaving the city a couple days ago; they’re probably trying to establish contact with smaller towns in the state by now.”

Reaching out towards the spit, I pulled a piece of roasted rabbit from the fire, my claws easily parting the cooked flesh from the rabbit’s rib. “Seems that way,” I replied.

The very fact that even after such a disaster, one that rocked the earth, destroyed the power, and mutated the animals, turning them into predatory monsters, humanity could still bounce back filled me with conflicted emotions.

On one hand, I found it quite amazing and inspiring how unshakable humanity is, yet on the other, a part of me was filled with anger about it, an irrational rage that I couldn’t reason with that told me they didn’t deserve to come back, that they had their chance and blew it. A rage that never let me forget that I hadn’t just buried my love in the flower fields but my humanity along with it.

And I felt that loss deeply. I found myself more and more considering myself as separate from humanity—they, not us—is how I think of people now. A couple of times I wondered what I would do if someone came to me for help, somehow managed to find me all the way out here, and needed me to save them; and truthfully, I didn’t know if I would save them, turn them away, or if they would fall victim to the monster inside that held my rationality hostage when enraged.

Finishing my meal, I left the fire pit behind and sat myself down on the floor of my small structure and allowed myself a brief moment of satisfaction before focusing my attention on the task I had set myself for today: doing something real with magic.

So far, my nightly meditations have made me better at controlling and separating the different energies that make up my core. The main thing I had learned was that the death mana was extremely easy for me to manipulate relatively; it took a lot of focus, but it did as I bid.

The others were harder to control and seemed much lesser in quantity, while some of the traces I could feel of other elements seemed so minute I couldn’t control them in the least. And then there was the bloody red lightning, which I was positive was infernal attribute mana, as whenever I attempted to control it, blood red symbols ignited across my skin.

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This energy refused and rebuffed me at every attempt. I could feel my grasp on it, and I could feel the control I should have over it, but it just refused to move as if I had no power or authority over it; the only thing that ever happened when I attempted to manipulate the aggravating red lightning was that my skin began to glow with unholy runes and symbols.

Closing my eyes gently, I focused inward and quickly saw and felt the gaseous planet that made up my core. The sight was captivating as always, and I spent a good chunk of time just observing and watching before finally I directed my will towards the orb in a slightly different way than I usually did.

I attempted to feel my body moving and being present without actually moving. I felt my hand stretching towards the core of darkness and beckoning it to me. The response was instant, and I felt a soft haptic buzzing in my head.

The core shuddered in response to my beckon, and I felt my body temperature drop as the smoky atmosphere seemed to rush towards me like a vacuum was tearing it away from my core. A massive tendril of flowing black smoke so thick it moved like a liquid rushed to my mental hand, and I felt my own left hand growing ice hold as my mental image of my arm changed to show it covered in black line tattoos.

Well, holy shit Let’s see how far I can push this.

I focused harder, pulling on the black ice-like aspect within the death mana, and suddenly the smoky substance retreated, crashing back into my core and wrapping around it, leaving in its place a moderately thick tendril of black ice, and immediately I could feel the temperature in my left arm dropping further, going from a numbness to frost burn.

I managed to hold the black ice within my arm for several more seconds before my concentration was shattered by the pain and the ice retreated back into the sphere.

Opening my eyes, I saw that my pale skin was now a pale red underneath a layer of light frost that covered my finger tips, and there was frozen condensation on the bark of my wooden flooring.

“Holy shit” I repeated aloud this time. “That’s magic; that was real fucking magic!" I shouted a sense of excitement and childlike glee filled me for a moment that I had fulfilled my longest dream; I had found and used magic even if it was only a bit of frost; it was still magic.

I was forced to shove down my excitement when I heard something I hadn’t expected. A response to my shout, a loud and powerful voice called through the tree’s “Who’s out there?”

I stayed silent, picking myself up from the floor and turning to face the direction the voice came from when the voice came again, sounding much more hostile. Who’s out there? This is the United States military. Reveal and identify yourself.”

I snarled softly, my breath coming out as a growl instead of a sigh, and prepared to deal with humans again for the first time in a while. After several more moments, their footsteps became clearer to me, as loud and obvious as they were. I likely would have noticed them long ago if I wasn’t so distracted.

Finally a trio of soldiers dressed in green camo with assault rifles stepped out from the trees, and they saw me, and I saw them. I watched them all tense for a moment before taking a step back as they encountered what was probably the strangest hobo they’d ever met, considering I was wearing a funeral suit with no shoes and large claws on my fingers and toes.

We stared at each other in a somewhat social standoff for a few minutes as they took my measure, and I attempted to shove down my revulsion at having these people here in my home... or well, my trees; finally they broke the silence.

“US Army, identify yourself,” said a large man in the center.

“My name is Gintarou.” I said it somewhat flatly.

I could see the man in the back looked about my age, maybe even a little younger, and he was seeming pretty twitchy. I was getting the distinct impression he was taking me in and wasn’t liking what he was seeing.

“Alright Gintarou, what are you doing out here all by yourself?” asked the man in the lead again.

I felt my eye twitch slightly as I replied again, keeping my tone cold and devoid of emotion. “I live out here, Mr.” I ended my statement trailing off to imply my question.

“Sargent Fields, and you’re not supposed to be out here; martial law has been declared for your own safety. All citizens of the US are to remain within the nearest settlement,” he said in a somewhat robotic manner, as if he’d had to repeat this line over and over again.

I quirked an eyebrow at his and cocked my head to the right, slightly suppressing my increasing levels of annoyance. “Sargent Fields, Not to be rude, but that’s fucking ridiculous. You can’t just walk into my home and say I have to go back to the city, just because.”

Sargent Fields didn’t seem to enjoy being told no as he began walking towards with his face twisting into an expression that screamed pissed off even to a sociopath like me. “Listen here, kid, this isn’t a request; this is martial law; these woods aren’t safe. Now you can comply or I'll arrest you. Understood?” He finished speaking as he got within an arm’s reach of me, and I had to look up to maintain eye contact now with him being a few inches taller than me.

I looked him up and down for a moment, taking in his size; he was wearing a lot of bulky equipment, body armor, and pouches along with his large pack, but just from his appearance, I was willing to bet his strength stat was below mine, and that wasn’t taking into account my enhancements, which I’d come to realize were a considerable increase that wasn’t reflected in my status.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I snapped out as my hand shot forward with such speed that he barely seemed able to react, his body only just beginning to recoil from me when I wrapped my hand around his throat, feeling my claws resting on his nape as I lifted him up into the air. He was heavy, but no more than a very full bag of shopping, or at least that’s how he felt in my grip as his hands came up and grabbed onto my wrist, trying to pry my hand open.

I snarled as I spoke, my tone becoming hateful. “You come into my home and scuff my fucking floor THAT I ONLY JUST BUILT! With your goddamn boots like a fucking animal, and then you start making demands,” my grip tightened as I shouted my anger unconsciously, making my hand tense, and I had to force myself to relax my fingers as he started to choke in my grasp. Over Sargent Field’s shoulder, I could see the other two soldiers shouldering their rifles, taking aim at me, trying to get a clear shot that wouldn’t also kill their commanding officer.

Growling softly with agitation, I snapped at them, “Drop your fucking guns before I snap this goddamn homunculus’s neck.”

The soldiers stared at me, and I could sense the fear in them, the weakness and helplessness they felt. I could practically smell it as much as I could see it in their wide eyes, and looking closer, I realized that they were either posturing or stupid as their safeties were still on.