This isn’t working.

I’ve been trying for a while now, and yet the words refuse to take shape. Any time I breathe out with the intent to make noise, all that reaches my ears is an echoing hiss. The only change I can make to my breath is to alter the speed it pushes past my fangs. That simply changes the pitch of the hiss; far from the distinct form I’d heard from the Titan.

Is this even possible?

Every sapient being can speak.

The Beyond utters, both answering my question, and not. How? I demand, but it remains silent.

It is hard to tell if the Beyond speaks the way it does to intentionally annoy me, or if it simply lacks the intelligence to know better. The words from the Beyond have grown clearer in the past hundred hunts, but even if I can understand what it says now, the intention behind them remains a mystery.

Now and then, it will intrude into my thoughts with answers and explanations, but there has always been something… lacking. Only now, with that experience of the Titan’s voice, is it apparent that there isn’t actually a mind behind the Beyond. Or, at least, not one as complex as mine.

It’s still frustrating that it refuses to elaborate.

I breathe in deep, then let it out with my irritation. It has taken me this long to calm down, the last thing I want is to return to that state. No, now is the time to think about this with a clear head and not drag myself down with thoughts that trigger my new, irrational emotions.

The Titan’s voice is the only thing I’ve actually heard, which is unfortunate because there is no chance I could replicate the world shaking effect it achieved to create words. My attempts were trying to bridge the gap between the Beyond’s thoughts in my head and the Titan’s effect. That, unfortunately, seems to be the wrong way to approach speech.

The Beyond confirmed it should be possible at least, but for now, no option makes itself known.

Well, it’s not like speech is important, anyway. Who would I talk to? Myself? The Titan? I huff in amusement at the thought. Not likely.

After what that beast did to my home, I refuse to speak to it even if given the chance. Not only did the Titan destroy the entirety of my territory, but it told me to flee the distorted tunnels; to run to the inferior lands of those without true-sight. In hindsight, it is clear the being simply messing with me. Like how I would sometimes play with my food, my desperation is nothing beyond a source of amusement to the incomprehensible Titan.

I do not like being on the other end.

Curse the spaceless being. I will not fall for its tricks. It will not experience the pleasure of sending me to the lesser tunnels, even if it kills me.

My head jerks back at the thought. Am I really willing to sacrifice my life to oppose something beyond me? No. This is that intrusive emotion again. Pride. Spite. Hatred. None are beneficial to my continued survival. In fact, they seem to be actively trying to put me in more danger than I have ever experienced.

Taking on a Titan? What absolute foolishness seems to seep into my mind. Even the thought of opposing its will would be dangerous. What’s a little entertainment to being that barely exists in this world, if it means I can survive?

I’ll need to be careful in the future. These intrusive thoughts and emotions clearly don’t understand the nature of the world. If not careful, it could cause irreparable damage to my way of life… more than the Titan already has.

Now that I’ve had the thought, why are these emotions so detached from the world I live? They came alongside sapience and the voice of the Beyond, so it should come from the same place. But the Beyond knows things about the world that I never knew before. It may not be entirely intelligent, but it knows about the world enough that I’m sure it wouldn’t give me such stupid advice as: ‘throw away your life’.

If there is a way to discard these parasitic irrationalities, I would in a moment. For now, that is impossible. So instead, I must keep an intense focus on the thoughts that flicker through my mind. The last thing I want is more of these persuasions affecting my actions.

My tail flexes, pushing me forward once again. Now that I am calm, and actually able to think somewhat straight, I glance around at my surroundings. Nothing is familiar, but that’s not exactly a surprise; I passed through quite a few holes and rifts in my scamper away from the Titan.

There is the river I just came from, carving through the rock for quite a distance, but the water limits how far I can actually see. The limit on my sight doesn’t matter too much as I don’t plan to return to the water. It might be nice to follow it to a bed of sand or moss and buff out all these scratches from my scales, but it will take too many sleeps to return my old glisten that I simply don’t want to put in the effort.

My other options are rather limited. I’ve somehow landed myself in a void of rock that leads entirely to regions with less dense spatial distortions. It’s not insurmountable, but the fewer bends in space, the harder it is to move, and makes for a rather uncomfortable experience. Why would I slither along the ground if I didn’t need to?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

With the lesser tunnels right in front of me, it feels almost like the world is guiding me. My spite wants me to avoid it at all cost, but the very appearance of that thought decides my action. If my emotions want to avoid the distortion sparse caverns, then I know exactly where to go.

I will spite my spite.

The moment I pass through the hole to the least dense area, I’m hit with a gust of wind. It is another reason I don’t like these tunnels; the environments are unpredictable.

Contradictorily, the intense mesh of interwoven space protects the denser regions from being affected by external forces. It creates somewhat of an equilibrium. Of course, there are exceptions. Far-reaching rends often throw the balance out, introducing seas where there were none before, or opening the way for excessive heat to melt everything around, but most of the time, the spatial bends act as a sort of barrier from effects like these winds.

I flop to the ground with an annoyed hiss, immediately questioning the wisdom of my choice. If there’s any benefit I can find to being down here, it’s that the ground, walls and ceiling are actually distinct from each other. Not exactly a great benefit, but I really don’t like being here; It’s the best I can do to avoid giving up and returning where I came.

Which… won’t be easy, considering the hole is now five times my body's length above me.

I could grow to reach it, but then my body would be too thick to fit through. The only way back now, is forward.

The cavern I find myself in is more of a lip on the side of a major vertical column. That’s where all the wind comes from. Somewhere deep below, something agitates the air so greatly not even I dare get too close. My scales are hard, but I’ve seen prey ripped to shreds because they dove through the rising air-currents in their attempts to flee my fangs.

Caverns and tunnels besides the claw-like air are the least dense in spatial fractures, which is why that massive column of voided rock near my territory — my former territory — was so strange. I was unsuccessful, but the very fact I could reach air without distortion was unfathomable. Even here, there are a dozen bends in this small cavern.

I cast my sight around for a hole to the other side of the dangerous wind-tunnels, but there are none. While I rarely come this far out, I’ll look for a path beyond whenever I do. Between here and the amber barrier, there has to be something more. The Titan said so, and even if it was a trick, I’d like to believe that part of its words was true.

Wait, why not ask the voice I actually trust? Beyond, is there something on the other side of the wind tunnel and amber barrier?

Yes.

There it is! Actual confirmation! Now, what lies beyond?

…

And again, the damn thing holds its silence.

I used to think the voice was omniscient. Any question I asked would be answered immediately, but the more I ask, the more I realise there are some serious limitations on what it will say. Anything not visible to myself gets limited answers. Questions of history — like how that wide, voided column was made — get ignored. Only rarely will it voice any explanation.

Really, all it’s good for is language and naming things.

Despite that, I am grateful for its teachings. It may not be truly necessary to know the names of things around me, or the ability to understand speech, but it is not unwelcome. Adds an extra flavour to things; not tasty like food, but something that can be savoured without getting full.

Of course, a long time has passed since the Beyond began speaking, so my interest has died off some. Everything has a name that makes it unique, but everything having a name also makes nothing unique. Even me.

My kind are called Jötnorm. I share that name with other serpents like myself… not that I’ve ever seen another. Though, the Beyond tells me they exist. There are differing serpent species I’ve come across over my countless hunts, but never my own.

I push myself away from the deadly winds into the back of the grotto. The press of rock beneath my scales is less than comfortable, but it’s hard to expect much better in such orderly space.

It is time to solidify my path.

This is about as suppressed as it looks like my emotions will get, so hopefully, it will be enough to think through my options without unnecessary intrusions.

My primary options are as follows: find another territory to make my own, and live how I have, forgetting the nightmare that is the Titan; alternatively, I can continue my search for a way beyond the borders. I wish there was a third option to return to my home, but I can’t return to what is no longer there.

The first choice is the easiest. It would be no challenge to carve out another territory for myself even in an unfamiliar environment; I’ll settle myself within an ecosystem flush with life and either eat or scare off the other apex predators. This is the way I’ve lived for a thousand hunts, and there’s no reason I’ll face any difficulty relocating once more.

… But there is a certain degree of dissatisfaction that settles within my stomach at the thought of just returning to the way things were. Acting like nothing happened, like I haven’t changed.

I could find a way beyond the five borders of these warped tunnels. Even without the Titan’s mockery, I cannot deny the thought of finding my way around them as attractive.

The Amber Barrier, Labyrinthine Passages, Wind Channels, Magma Ocean, and Crippling Depths. Each border poses its own insurmountable dangers, but unlike any other biome I’ve found, they share the aspect of always being present, regardless of the distance I travel through the warped tunnels. What if I could find my way beyond?

I learnt my lesson when I failed to climb that distortionless column. This desire to know what lies beyond, it leads to nothing but disappointment and pain. The last thing I should be doing is falling for this… curiosity, again, but it’s difficult to imagine myself finding a territory of my own and actually being satisfied with it.

I had my territory, my home, and it was taken from me. Could I just live the same life after that, knowing very well the Titan could come along any time and destroy anything I enjoy?

No.

No, I can’t. Every sleep will be spent with an eye open, waiting for the monster’s return to take from me again and laugh at my foolishness for thinking I was safe. Never would I feel safe within my tunnels knowing a being like that could obliterate everything within a moment. Is it possible to escape? Would the opportunity to flee even appear before me? These questions will never leave me. Not until I’m somewhere beyond where it can reach me.

So that leaves finding a way beyond the borders of my warped tunnels, even if that goes against the lesson of curiosity.

I can only hope that the Other Side isn’t what is on… well, the other side. It is a possibility, but the amber barrier looks the same even there, so I’d like to believe there is more than the destroyed landscape of the Other Side.

With an instantaneous tense of my slender body, I spring up through the hole near the ceiling of this cave. This border is a bust, but I’m sure with enough time, a way will appear. Hopefully, I won’t be searching for long.