The land is covered by the touch of these sapients.

Between their large stone nests, the perfectly organised plant-life, and the web of compact dirt that carries moving structures, nothing is untouched by these beings. They’ve reshaped the land, and made it more suited to their needs to such an extent that even after a thousand breaths flying through the air, I cannot find anywhere their influence doesn’t reach.

Not only are they one of the larger sized swarm creatures, but they control more area than any other I’ve come across.

Yet I still can’t understand how they are sapient. These creatures, as I have found from the previous fight, aren’t particularly strong. Maybe there are some amongst them that are stronger; one of those tentacle creatures was certainly stronger than the others, and those flying squirrels couldn’t even compare to the other races, yet they spoke too.

It could be that the entire gathered strength of a race is what determines if ones are considered intelligent, but even that seems wrong. I’ve never so much as seen another of my own kind, so I doubt the gathered strength is enough, especially as I grew into it over time.

And the Titan lynx, the vile beast, did not seem to have progressed any further than I with its emotions and intelligence, so I have to accept that I’m likely wrong about what causes sapience.

There’s also the thought that it is age that gives one intelligence, but with how incredibly quantified these swarm creatures are, and how weak, I find it extremely unlikely even one has lived as long as I. That tosses my second theory out.

It could simply be random chance that decides which races gain intelligence, and how easy it is to achieve. My arrogance has been beaten down enough now to realise I’m not special in this world. Just because something happens, doesn’t mean I earned it; I might even be one of the more unlucky creatures, considering how long it took to appear. Not like there are many beings with the fortune to live as long as I.

As I slither through the sky, I find I attract a whole lot of stares. Any time I pass overhead of the sapients, they turn and watch. Not that such a reaction is any different from most other creatures down in the warped tunnels; in fact most of those would flee the moment they glimpse me, instincts screaming at them to hide.

What’s strange is that’s all they do. Of course some react a bit when I move their way, but most just watch dumbly as if they’ve never seen a snake before. And I know that’s wrong; there’s plenty of snakes hiding in the bushes along with other critters that all keep their distance from the obvious dominant species of this massive cavern.

I’m a bit annoyed to find none of those serpents appear at all strong, but some are as large as my smallest form, so why do they stare? Well, I’m sure it’s probably just them being wary of a potential predator hunting them. Despite their prevalence, there’s surely creatures stronger than them around.

Their glances are annoying, and without the dense cover of spatial distortions, I cannot hide from them, but for now, I ignore them. They do not attack like the first of their kind, so I can continue my flow through the air without trouble.

Where am I to go? This is the goal I’ve been aiming for so long now. I’m finally beyond the bounds of the warped tunnels, safe from the eventual destruction both the Beyond and the Phantom Titan warned.

I still remember the Beyond’s words clearly, telling me to wait for them once I’ve reached this surface it spoke of. But when will that be? I’ve already lost everything to reach this place, and nothing to show for it. All that is different, is the weak sapients that flood the earth, and a lack of a spatial forest to enshroud myself within.

I return my attention to those plentiful sapients. Those same four species are all incredibly frequent, but it is those tentacle creatures that are the most populous. Does that make them the dominant species of the bunch?

The longer I fly, the more eyes there are to follow me. I find my curiosity growing. Those that attacked me spoke to each other. I hadn’t noticed it at first — what with it being my first experience of the mundane vocalised communication — but I’m now certain that’s what it was. What do they say? Do they speak freely, voicing every thought that crosses their minds? Or hold their tones only for when it is required?

What might it have been like to speak with Scia? What might she have said to me before disappearing forever?

Curiosity. I once thought it a horrible thing. I now know that not to be the case. It, along with every other emotion, is neither good nor bad; they simply are. Curiosity, without Scia to revel in it feels hollow, but I need to believe she’s still with me. It is her presence that creates bends, therefor it isn’t a betrayal of her memory to interact with these emotions in a way other than negatively. I must satisfy her curiosity, and only in that can I feel the same.

Those sapient creatures; I want to hear them.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

I dive for a congregation of the creatures standing in a gap between those nests of theirs. My sudden change in direction seems to startle a few, who run to hide inside their burrows. Amongst those that remain, a few lift pellet-sticks similar to those I faced when first reaching this surface.

My immediate response is aggression.

How dare these creatures raise their inept rock-flingers at me? Surely they understand that only death awaits should they make any such attempt.

But I quickly get a hold of myself. Of course they're going to attack something that is diving for them. Right now, I am no different from a charging beast. Like with the apikull, these sapients stand firm and ready to protect their kin, even at the expense of their lives. Those back at the ledge of the column didn't give me so much as a chance to leave them alone. They attacked without reason, and they got what they deserved.

These creatures below still hold their fire even as I fall to within a few dozen of their body lengths. A few bark at each other, short illegible words, but most of the rest are quiet.

This is not what I want. I want to listen to them speak. To hear that same communication I discovered they could do back in that battle. This situation can only lead to a fight; no battle would have one waste time chatting.

So I pass through a bend and fling myself skyward again. The creatures I leave behind slump in relief. As well they should.

Continuing on, I figure a bit more discretion will be required if I’m to listen to their words without those words devolving to aggressive growls or whimpers of fear. Now, how to go about not being noticed? I could hardly pose as any ordinary snake I’ve seen wandering around; there’s not a creature alive with instincts poor enough they couldn’t tell a Jötnorm from a common snake.

Another strange sight drags my attention to the land far ahead of me. A metal snake about as large as my full size enters a tunnel just barely wide enough to fit it. Intrigued, I slither through the air, racing after the fast moving metal serpent. I don’t think I’ve ever met another snake as large as myself, so it’s surprising to see one here of all places.

I dive into the earth after it, and soon catch up to the metal beast that hums a constant growl. Not the first creature with an outer layer consisting entirely of metal, but it certainly is the first snake of the kind. There’s only just enough space between it’s oddly flat scales and the tunnel ceiling for me to slither on top of it.

Strangely, the creature doesn’t really slither, but rather continues in a straight line. For a moment, a terrifying thought that I might have mistaken a worm for a snake crosses my mind. But I quickly wipe away that fear. It doesn’t use that compressing motion worms use, and also moves far too fast for it to be one of them.

I soon discover that the being isn’t a creature at all. The not-snake is divided into rather short segments, separated entirely except for a lump of metal where the ventral scales should be. As I’m peeking out into the space between two segments, the not-snake breaks out from the tunnel again, but not to open air.

I find myself in a fully enclosed cavern, but the structure is far too much like the sapients nests to be anything natural. And as I cast my gaze around — eyes still limited to whats ahead of them making the motion required — I find the area bustling with the creatures.

The not-serpent — my ride — slows to a stop before the crowd, and I watch as hundreds of the creatures clamber out from the not-guts of the not-snake. What is this? Once unloaded, just as many squeeze past each other to fit inside the tube of metal.

Considering the lack of eyes my way, I’m pretty confident I’m hidden up here, on top of the not-snake. It gives me the opportunity to listen in to all their chatter. And there is a lot. They chat and shout in such a disorderly cacophony that not a word is discernible.

The low rumble returns, and the not-serpent moves again. In no time we’re speeding through the landscape filled with the sapient creature’s nests of various sizes. Most appear to be formed from wood or stone, but that’s not what I care about. I’ve got a not-snake full of sapients to listen to.

Placing two sides of a bend above me, I place my tail against the metal for leverage, before pushing my head against the soft metal not-scales. It buckles with ease and soon snaps, breaking open a hole for me to fall in through. I find myself in a tight space, but I can hear the murmur of voices below. One more and I’ll be in.

When I breach through, and fall twice my current body length to the floor of this moving cavern, I’m met with a dozen shrieks. Half a dozen sapients jump up from where they sit and back away down the central open space. Before more can spot me, I dive for the cramped corner, where a tunnel passes all through the cavern, broken into the open at regular intervals.

“Snake!” I hear a few of those who ran away shouting. Oh! They actually know the right word. Bit disappointed they didn’t use my actual race name, but I guess it can’t be helped. Actually, it would probably be better if they didn’t recognise what I was from such a brief glance. Even better if they don’t know my species at all.

One of those antlered creatures stand on their bone-like limbs right before me, rising along with a dozen others at the shouts of those who saw me. I create a bend to the other side of those legs, where the tunnel resumes. Doing this a few more times, I reach far enough from the point where they saw me that they’ll think I wandered off.

“Somebody call the conductor. We need to stop, there’s a snake.”

“It’s just a snake, what harm can it do? Throw it out the window if you’re that upset.” The one to speak is one of those antler creatures I’d just passed under.

“Easy for you to say, khirig. Why don’t you?” There seems to be a murmur of agreement from the others, and I peek my head out to look at the crowd from behind. Most, as with everywhere else, seem to be those squishy looking tentacle sapients. Maybe they’re more fearful of snakes than the antlered ones. They certainly look more appealing to bite than the… Khirig? I wish the Beyond would answer.

The khirig seems to grunt in annoyance before pushing past the fearful creatures. “Fine. Fine. You cowards.” it puts in a pretty lazy effort to look into the tunnel, and while I don’t believe it’ll see me down this way, I climb up into the cavity of the odd construction an ape-like creature sits on, out of view.

“Are you sure it was a snake you saw?” The voice is now filled with a strange inclination that it didn’t have before. I wonder what it means? “Wait! There’s no way a snake did this. Something cleared a hole clean through the roof of this train.”

The call seems to interest more of the sapients, as they gather around to look up out the path I made for myself.

…Should I have found another way in?