“What happened to him?!Why does he look so damn cool?—wait, no—what happened?” Gira asked as he followed Savagrios and K.
“We’ve prepared a brief presentation that will answer some of your questions, dear me.” K said as he guided Gira to a massive and very uncomfortable stone seat. “Just sit tight; we shall commence shortly.”
“Okie dokie,” Gira said as he climbed onto the oversized chair. Ugh, what a crappy chair! And—oh wow—what’s up with that creepy pale thing? It looks so dry… OH, also Savagrios! Wait, was all that ‘we’ speak because he was literally multiple morons? That’d actually explain why he talks funny…
His train of thought abruptly derailed when he accidentally locked eyes—faces?—with the white-clad S, who gave him a sharp nod. Gira, caught off guard, mentally stumbled before offering an awkward wave in return.
With that, S rose to his feet, his bony armor clattering softly as he loomed over the round table. His jaws parted slightly, and a coarse, reverberating version of his voice seeped through Gira’s skin and echoed in his mind.
“Welcome Gira,” The voice was undeniably S’s, though it was deeper. “I’d like to reintroduce myself since our last meeting. I am S, but after discovering I can also transform, I’ve decided to go by a different name —”
“But why did you copy our name?!” The two Savagrios shouted over each other.
“I… I’m just no good with coming up with names…” S mumbled, avoiding their gazes as his bony claws fidgeted, tapping lightly against each other.
That’s creepy! With that scary body, that cutesy gesture looks wrong! Gira thought to himself.
Clearing his throat, S then resumed his reintroduction. “In any case, you shall call me Berserkrios.”
Gira looked at him embarrassed, “Umm… you sure about the name?”
All the other Gira’s averted their gazes, ashamed.
“I am! To be cringe is to be free!” Berserkrios declared with absolute conviction.
The smaller Savagrios shivered from the chill of secondhand embarrassment. "N-no one said it was cringe…”
If Berserkrios had skin, he might have blushed. If he were more emotionally stable, perhaps he wouldn’t have used a bone construct to hurl the human Savagrios across the room.
Savagrios sailed over the table, crashing near the spacey-eyed Gira, who leaned over to check on him.
“KNOCKOUT!” the spacey-eyed Gira announced, sweeping his hand dramatically.
Berserkrios retracted the bone construct. “Ignoring that—Gira, as you can probably surmise, I too am a Coarseblood.”
Gira, who was awkwardly looking at the bleeding Savagrios, seemed to snap back to reality by Berserkrios’s words. “Wow! Wait—can everyone here become a Coarseblood?”
“We’re not sure, but—”
“No.”
A cold, condescending voice cut through the conversation.
Gira turned to see a wispy, white-haired version of himself glaring at him with the nastiest side-eye possible.
The white-haired Gira sat with his feet propped on the table, radiating pure disdain. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled them back and leaned forward, his amber-gold scowl layered atop an already disgusted expression. “We meet again, rat! Did getting this idiot's emotions dumped on you feel good?”
Gira turned to Berserkrios. “Who’s that sassy, piss-eyed guy?”
“MY EYES ARE GOLDEN LIKE A SHINING STAR, YOU FUC—”
Before Vaal could finish, Berserkrios casually shoved a bone construct into his mouth. “That’s Vaal. He’s the only one here whose memories are intact. But he won’t tell us anything because he’s mad at us for something.”
Gira tilted his head. “Is he a little kid?”
“MMMMMMPH—” Vaal attempted to protest, but the bony growth only wedged itself deeper, making his eyes roll back. Berserkrios was now on a two-Gira killstreak.
“He particularly hates you for one reason or another, but we managed to bully some information about our Coarseblood form out of him.” Berserkrios explained as he absentmindedly swung Vaal’s unconscious body around.
The other Savagrios then spoke, “This information is why we summoned you—there’s also a warning that we must share with you.”
Gira squinted at the other Savagrios, “Why the heck are there two of you?”
Coarseblood Savagrios grinned, crimson cracks spreading across his face. “There’s always been multiple of us. In fact, there are three of us.”
“Okay…but why? And where’s the third one?”
The spacey-eyed Gira lazily raised his hand. “Over here, little friend.”
Little friend? “What? That guy?” Gira said, pointing at the spacey-eyed Gira, whose eyes were half-open like he was about to sleep.
“Indeed. But he lacks our iconic red eyes and charm,” the Coarseblood Savagrios said as he pointed at himself with both his thumbs.
“How do you guys even know that guy’s a Savagrios? And you still haven’t explained why there’s three of you.”
K leaned in, “Well, dear me, when we shards die within the throne, we return to our respective memory. Those three upon death return to the dazzling scape of their realm.”
“Huh… So can that guy also transform into a Coarseblood or…?”
The dreamy-eyed Gira spoke for himself, “Unfortunately I cannot. Nor do I know why I share my space with those two. Forgive me for my useless nature… I truly am a worthless parasite. If only death could take my wretched, miserable exis—”
“It’s okay! I was just asking! Don’t worry, other me.” Gira tried to console him. “Umm, what’s your name?”
The dreamy-eyed Gira, who was now on the verge of tears, wiped them off, “They call me Gira the Betrayed.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Not Gira the Sad? Why Betrayed?”
“Can’t remember…but I can feel it inside me,” B muttered, as he began to sulk.
“Oh, well… n-nice to meet you.” Gira said, as he moved onto the next Gira.
Sitting perfectly still, staring into the stone wall, was a figure. They were clearly inhuman with a strange, white, rubbery texture—like a monster wearing a skin-suit in some poor attempt to look human.
Gira leaned over to K, whispering, “Pssst, is that thing supposed to be a Gira?”
“That’s Gira the Patient,” K whispered back. “He just showed up on his own. Unfortunately, we have no clue as to what his true nature is…or if it’s human at all.”
“Ohh—” He turned back to Berserkrios, “Are there any more Giras?”
“There are, but the exact number is unclear. But you mustn’t worry about that for now.”
“I guess…” He said, looking at all the Giras present.
Berserkrios continued, “Starting with our Coarseblood nature, we’ve somewhat figured out our limits. Partial transformation puts the least strain on our body, but the cost of partial transformation might as well warrant us to fully commit. The partial state also excites our C.E. instincts so desires to eat and reproduce conversely spike.”
“C.E.?” Gira asked.
“Calamity Entity,” Berserkrios clarified. “As for fully transforming, we’ve learned that the act itself is the most taxing on our body and soul. So we must limit ourselves to only one transformation per cycle. Theoretically, we can remain transformed indefinitely, but the longer we stay in that state, the longer we have to wait before transforming again. The minimum cooldown is about 28 hours. However, the cooldown between our transformations grows exponentially due to the lack of Kyyr in the atmosphere and our shattered soul. Forcing a transformation before the cooldown ends directly damages our core, which can lead to fractalizing or outright death.”
Gira nodded along, processing the information as best he could.
“As for the bigger problem,” Berserkrios continued, “our soul is shattered—literally, into a bunch of shards. We had no idea it had gotten to such a grave state. But when Savagrios was in control of the body, he was given a Kyyr-based apparatus by that nice black-haired girl. That device let him glimpse our soul, and, well… it’s pretty fucking bad. We’re not sure how to fix it or what the side effects are, but we know its probably not good…”
“Hmmm… so, question,” Gira said, pointing at the bone-armored Coarseblood. “Can I transform into you?”
“You can—but the same rules apply to this incarnation,” Berserkrios answered. “We’re also not sure if there’s much of a difference between the two forms.”
“Alright… then how long until I can transform again this time around?”
“Given how violent our last foray was, I estimate about a week or so. Unless we manage to eat something rich in Kyyr—that could help shorten the cooldown.”
C. Savagrios then added, “Preferably something not infected with abyssal Kyyr. The conversion rate isn’t very favorable. Its plain nasty and our Calamity core struggles to properly mend with that foul blood. Unless we get clean, fresh blood—or better yet, a whole, untainted body—we shouldn’t rely on it to reduce the cooldown.”
“Thank the universe.” Gira said relieved. “Eating those wretched things only tastes good in the heat of the moment. While I was knocked out, I kept having icky nightmares about that nasty meat.”
Berserkrios looked up at the illusory sunlight that crashed down from a window above. “Gira, I must also add that we must not share this information with the Rangers.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re Coarsebloods.” Berserkrios, said with a growl. “The Ranger’s current goal is to use us to quell the abyssal infection. If it wasn’t for those nasty creatures, they’d probably be hunting us instead. Not to mention, after Vaal’s annoying meltdown, the ranger’s are bound to be on edge around us.” Berserkrios said, waving the unconscious Vaal around. “That Vileblood Morray—he was toying with us last night. He didn’t even use any Kyyr abilities and still managed to overpower us. There are just too many unknowns. It’s best that we play along, obey for the time being, and let them handle the leaking abyss at their discretion.” His voice lowered slightly. “We must grow stronger and wiser—not only for the sake of stopping the abyss but also to perhaps one day save ourselves.”
Gira’s expression softened as he considered his words. The future. Right…I almost killed people… I’m not stupid enough to think there won’t be consequences for my actions. I mean, isn’t it a little convenient that I was whisked away with barely any issue?
Utility. Purpose. Fear.
A shiver ran through him. “I understand. But… Is there no one we can trust? W-What about Lucas?” he asked hesitantly.
C. Savagrios regarded him carefully. “You have to understand the passing of time. To us it was merely a dreary nightmare, but to that friend of ours it was months.” His voice was steady, but his massive crimson claws flexed slightly. “Time changes people. We’re dangerous, Gira. You understand that, right?”
He slowly lowered his claw. “W—no—you must carry our facade of ignorance.”
Gira looked down at his hands, feeling the echo flesh against claw.
Meanwhile, Savagrios, the little one, finally came to his senses as he painfully got off the floor. “What did we miss?”
“We’ve informed him of our ability and of our soul.” Berserkrios answered.
“And of the dangers we might face.” C. Savagrios added.
“Oh, swell.” Savagrios dusted himself off, stretching dramatically. “So, can we finally escape this lame domain and explore this new place?”
C. Savagrios sighed. “We suppose so. But try not to antagonize the Rangers anymore. Especially you, S—I mean, Berserkrios.” He pointed at the bony sentinel.
“Huh? What? I literally just warned our other self, Why am I the problem?” Berserkrios protested.
All the other Giras shot Berserkrios a nasty side-eye.
K sighed, tapping our Gira on the shoulder. “You remember how I introduced our dear friend as ‘Strong’? Well, that’s because, ah… let’s say he has a bit of a temper. And most of us here have been on the receiving end of it. Mostly Savagrios and Vaal, but calling him Strong was nicer than calling him Gira the Unstable…”
Berserkrios crossed his arms and growled as he slumped into the massive stone chair. “I admit I sometimes let my body speak for me, but I have a good sense of self-control. I wouldn’t cause a scene without reason, plus there’s not much reason for me to take over the—”
Berserkrios trailed off, catching sight of Gira’s dumb, eager grin.“Right… I take it you wish to transform into this version next time.”
Gira nodded. “Yup.”
Savagrios shot to his feet, looking almost offended. “What?! While he is certainly… intriguing in appearance, you can’t deny the grandiose nature of our crimson self!”
C. Savagrios silently nodded in agreement.
Gira, still grinning, examined the alabaster form. “Yeah—but, like—this one’s new. And he looks like a scary skeleton dragon So, like… It’ll be good to try out new flavors of life, you know.”
With that, the sudden little council of Giras ended as Gira snapped back to consciousness. He lay still on his blue bed, staring up at the metal bars above. He considered the things he’d learned, but also the future beyond him.
Would those bars one day enclose him?