11 re-directs all of her remaining power to her thrusters, pushing herself against the swiftly approaching treetops. She hits through the first line of foliage hard, and then snaps through every branch and vine on her way down to the forest floor. Despite everything, she lands on her feet, and surprises even herself with the somewhat graceful landing.
But then an inconceivably sharp pain stabs through her legs and torso, and 11 lurches forward, crashing onto her stomach. The pain is so sudden she does not even know to break her own fall, and has to bite down on her lower lip to stop from crying out.
"Ow, ow ow. What the hell?" She tries to push herself up, but the burning surges, forcing her arms to give out. It is only with incredible effort that 11 manages to flop uselessly onto her back. "What..." she pants, closing her eyes against the firepits of agony erupting all along her body. "Mother?"
> Scanning at 85% completion...
>
> Detecting high levels of nerve-activity. Limit your movements, 11, while I complete your scan.
"I don't think I really have a choice," 11 manages between breaths. The feverish pain seems to stretch through her, covering her up in a web of misery. But soon, it subsides little by little, and 11 feels herself gradually relaxing, and her breathing returning to normal again. She creeks open her eyes, watching the peachy afternoon sunlight pinpointing through the dense leaves above.
"What just happened to me?" she mumbles. "Are you there, Mother?"
Then her interface chimes,
> Damage Analysis complete:
>
>
>
> No malicious softwares detected.
>
> No data-breaches detected.
>
> Caution. Abnormalities detected in B.Block integration. Repairing now...
It is as if her computer has said the magical words, because almost immediately, 11 begins to feel the rest of the heat and pain ebb out of her, like water draining down a sink.
Her interface continues,
> Damage to internal systems: 0%.
>
> Damage to external chassis: 11%.
>
> Master Core undamaged.
>
> Life-support functions undamaged.
>
> Energy levels: Low.
>
> Bio-fuel storage: Medium.
>
> Caution. Loss of internal fluid detected. Internal nanobot count: 80%.
>
> Moving external nanobots inside...
The coldness of the damp forest air stings against 11's skin as the nanobots that make up her clothing are corralled into her open wounds, leaving her lying naked in her underwear. Though thankfully, 11 notes that it is not nearly as cold here, as it had been on the snowy wave-mountains.
> Estimated time of recovery: 37 minutes.
>
> No threats detected in vicinity.
>
>
>
> It appears no lasting harm is done, Gier 11.
>
> I suggest your next course of action to be rest, and then consume some of the nearby wildlife to replenish your bio-fuel. It is unfortunate you are unable to obtain the Level 76 Demonic Entity's Core. If you had, you would not have to wait so long for self-repairs to be completed.
11 sighs, and closes her eyes again. When the pain was almost unbearable, she had wished so much to hear Mother's ever-calm voice telling her that everything is alright. But now that she's fine, 11 finds herself not wanting to listen.
"I'd kill another Level 76 for a hazelnut latte right now. But I think I'll take a nap here first."
Under normal circumstances, she might feel embarrassed about her situation, sprawled across the forest floor in nothing but a bra and panties. But 11 finds herself more befuddled than anything.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
As part of their programming, God Giers are able to sense pain much the same as humans. However, the purpose of such advanced nerve-reactors is simply to prevent a God Gier from foolishly ignoring their wounds during battle. When it is clear that continuing to battle will yield no positive outcomes, it is often a more logical decision to retreat or self-destruct, than to allow the enemy to take advantage of a damaged Gier.
But the pain 11 has felt is definitely unproportioned to the damage she had taken, which is both concerning and intriguing. Despite her earlier joke, 11's body is more than capable of fighting another Gargoloth. And yet, in such pain, 11 can do nothing more than suffer, and wait for it to stop.
Could it have something to do with the abnormalities in her 'B.Block' software? What is that anyway? 11 tries to remember, to search up any information Mother has on it, but she finds nothing.
Exhausted and more than a little frustrated, 11 tries to ease herself into the soft, mossy ground. She breathes in the thick, earthy smells of the forest, feels the moisture-filled air clinging to her skin, and listens to the pitter-patter of tiny creatures as they scurry along ancient roots and twisting branches.
I am a long way from home, 11 notes with a pang of poignancy. The flowers blooming in this part of the world smell fruitier, more citrusy than the snow-white flowers in her meadow. Even the dirt gives off a muskier, cooler scent. And the insects too, buzz with a more melodic and enthusiastic tune, almost like they are imitating speech.
Wait a minute.
11 listens harder.
That's not buzzing. And it isn't from the insects.
11 lifts her head up, scanning the surroundings. Voices. Multiple. But she cannot make out any words. She tries to pinpoint where the voices are coming from with her radar, but the chatter grows quieter, further away.
11 hesitates. If she yells out, whoever it is will likely hear her, but she has yet to see what the people of this new world are like. Her mind flashes back to Haven – simple little huts stacked from mud and stone. How far, or little, has humanity advanced since then?
But isn't this what I was planning to do? Get people involved and attract the hacker's attention?
11 knows what the logical thing to do is, but now that she is given the chance, she finds it is much more difficult than she has anticipated.
What if they're bad people? What if they think I'm a bad person? It's been four years since there the last God Gier, and who knows what she had been doing when she was online? What if she terrorized people like some kind of malevolent goddess amongst men? I knew I should've made a cape!
A creeping chill interrupts 11's stream of questions. She squints at the dense growth above, not trusting her internal clock even though it tells her night is still hours away. The light is faint, but visible.
Then, starting from 11’s toes, a trail of cold creeps along her legs, up her thighs, then to her stomach. There isn’t any pressure on her body, but 11 feels the presence of something touching her. She looks down towards her feet, and finds herself staring directly into the blackened, decayed face of a pale, ghastly creature.
The creature floats inches above 11, its shadowy cloak clawing the air like twisted tentacles. It stares at 11 with sunken, empty eye sockets, churning with darkness like pools of tar. Rotting skin clings to the creature's thin, hollowed face, and with a faint whisper of death, the monster brings both of its boney hands to 11’s neck, and squeezes.
11 tries not to be too bothered by the freezing touch of rough, fleshless fingers around her throat, but luckily she does not feel any pain, her B.Blocker software seemingly coming through for her, finally.
She gives the demon a scan.
> Demonic Entity identified.
>
> Damage Output Level: 12.
>
> This one is not a threat, Gier 11. The resources required to exterminate it will not be covered by consuming its Core.
11 obeys, and ignores this low-level fodder. And as if sensing something isn’t right, the demon pulls back, its decayed face twitching with bewilderment. Then it leans forward, and a long, forked tongue slithers out from deep within its jaws to flick at 11’s cheek.
“There it is!”
A shout breaks the tension, and the demon springs up off 11, mouth agape in a roar, just in time to be blasted away by a flaming ball of fire.
11 watches the demon fly into the trees and out of sight, and before she can figure where the attack has come from, a red-haired girl, dressed in leather armor and cloak, rushes to her side.
“Are you OK? Did it hurt you? Can you breathe?” The girl’s face blocks out the light as she leans over 11, but even in darkness, her features are sharp and distinct.
"Can you hear me? Hello?" The girl's hair tickles 11’s nose as she presses her ear against the God Gier's chest.
So this is what humans look like now, 11 notes with unhidden awe. And then she realizes she's been holding her breath, and the girl probably thinks she is dead.
"I'm alive," 11 says softly, watching strands of red hair fluttering from her words. She smells strawberries. And mint.
The girl's relieved smile is a flame in the cold forest, making her sharp face look so much softer. "Oh, thank the goddesses. Okay. Fear not, I've seen people in worse conditions. We'll make sure you get out here alive."
11 has always imagined that living underground for five centuries might’ve devolved humanity into blind cave dwellers, but the girl’s eyes, as she goes back to inspecting 11’s wounds, blaze so brilliantly in the faint light that 11's breath catches in her throat.
The girl whips off her shoulder bag and turns to the trees behind her, and it is only now that 11 notices her ears; thin and pointy.
“Fennald! Allastair!”
Heavy footsteps precede the two figures racing out of the woods. The first figure is a bulk of a man, clad head to toe in metallic armor plating. He clumsily hauls himself over the fallen logs and tree roots, like a bull doing athletics. "Goddesses bless us, Aralyn," he huffs when he gets to the girl and sees 11 on the ground. “Is she... going to make it?”
The girl, Aralyn, gives him a murderous glare. "Of course she is, you idiot. I've seen worse." She unlaces her bag open and begins to dig inside, though her fingers tremble just slightly. "Just... make sure we're not disturbed, okay?"
"You have my promise," the armored man replies immediately. "I'll die before that wraith can get anywhere near you." He takes off his helmet and kneels down next to 11. His face is broad and confident, and his ruffled blond hair is plastered to his forehead from sweat. But even so, he is handsome, and looks remarkably similar to what a human man in his 20s looked like, before the Horizontal Reset. “Don’t you worry, m’lady,” he says with an air of extreme sincerity. “Aralyn here is as good a healer as they come. She’ll fix you right up, I promise you, on my knight’s honor.”
The knight looks like he wants to say more, but an ear-grating shriek from within in the woods cuts him off. He springs to a stand, dons his helmet, and charges into the forest, shouting, “Come on, Fennald! Like we planned!”
11 looks over to the other figure standing silently by her side, unsure when exactly he had made it there. The young man, slimmer and younger than the knight, clutches his wooden staff tightly as he dusts off his robe. His eyes, nearly covered by his black hair, are dark and intelligent. Wordlessly, he draws a circle around 11 and Aralyn with the end of his staff, eyes staring straight at the ground.
When he finishes, he looks at Aralyn, and says in a hushed, calm voice, “Remember, it’ll only protect against magical attacks, and very weak physical ones.” He pauses. “Sorry. I can almost do the C-Rank version, but I don't-”
“I know, I know Fen.” Aralyn waves him off while she continues pulling out all sorts of little packets and vials from her bag. “Go, quickly, before Allastair gets himself in trouble.”
The young man, Fennald, looks barely old enough to grow stubble. He hesitates for a second, clearly wanting to say something, but clamps his lips tight. He turns away and begins running after the knight.
“Wait, Fen!”
The way he skids to a stop is almost comical.
“Thank you,” Aralyn says with another smile that lights up her surroundings. “Stay safe.”
Fennald’s entire face goes beetroot-red. He looks down, mumbles a barely audible, “You too”, and then dashes off into the forest, his cloak whipping behind him.