“So where is this again? And why is it so dark?” Zachary asked as the two of them, Beastkin and human, trudged through the empty chamber that the Snakekin had directed them to.

As soon as the bartender had accepted the terms of his deal, he wordlessly led Zachary out of the bar, past the guard post, and straight into some sort of long forgotten temple situated a few minutes from the Beastkin town.

“The Hartan Ruins,” Sossin responded, pushing a bunch of vines to the side as he ventured further deeper into the depths. “Not too far now. And I expect that as soon as you get what you want, I get what I want.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Xaster. I’m a man of my word. Most of the time, at least.”

There was hardly any illumination other than the beams of sunlight that were streaming in through the distant entrance, but even Zachary could tell; this installation, even in its state of disrepair, was far more advanced than the fired clay brick constructions the Beastkin people lived in.

Walls made fully of smoothened concrete. Indentations in the celling that could conceivably have contained some sort of lighting mechanism, like a lightbulb or a florescent tube, but were now housing no such device. Cracked panels of tinted glass littered the ground as they walked, torn from strange obelisks that were ever present in each room they passed.

This all looks quite familiar, Zachary thought. Not technology from this world. Can’t be. If they had these kinds of construction techniques, they wouldn’t use it just for this. It’d be incorporated into every part of their lives. Actually, it kinda looks like-

“Okay,” the Snakekin spoke up, shaking Zachary from his silent ruminations. “We’re here.”

They’d walked down the hallway at the opposite end of the first chamber, and now found themselves standing just metres away from the gate that lay at its end.

Zachary would have asked what made this last room so different from the rest, but that was a question left unspoken as it was readily apparent. After all, only this room had a cloaked guard holding vigil in front of it.

“My payment, sir.”

Zachary turned around to stare incredulously at the Snakekin who had thrust out his hand at the human – the universal gesture for the expectation of reward.

“That’s it? You’re not even going to introduce me to that guy? Just going to take your money and run, huh? What kind of crappy information service do you run?”

Sossin returned the stare with an annoyed look of his own, his scaled arm still outstretched. “Look, you wanted to find the Cult of Humanity, right? Well, they’re right there; you can talk to them all you want. I don’t want any part of this. If you must know, this sect is their largest. Which naturally also means they’re the most radicalised. Look,” The Snakekin jabbed at the sentry with his thumb, who had now noticed the two of them and was blatantly scowling at the obvious Beastkin. “That one probably would skin me if I got closer than this. So you understand if I’m hesitant to accompany you deeper.”

“Fine,” Zachary sighed, rummaged about beneath his cloak, and untied the accessory from his waistband. He’d generated another pair the night before; there was no telling if he might require MP for this encounter – even if he had no skills which demanded it yet. The spare Masquerade Mask was placed into the awaiting hand of the bartender. “You’ve earned it.”

Sossin curiously brought the Mask up to his face, examining it closely.

“How does it work, then?”

“You put it on-” Zachary paused, noticing that as the Snakekin held it up to his face, there was yet another problem – that the mask was too small to fit. It had been generated for a human’s facial dimensions, not a half reptile humanoid. He pursed his lips in contemplation, then continued. “Well, it should be fine if you just secure it such that it’s touching your head in some way. Do that, then utter the words, ‘Mask of Lies!’ and you’ll be able to edit your Status like I showed you. Go wild.”

As the human turned to approach the guard, however, Sossin grabbed his arm.

“Wait. There’s something else you must know.”

Zachary’s face scrunched up in irritation.

“What? Don’t tell me you want something more than what we agreed on.”

The bartender shook his head. “Just leaving you with a word of advice. They worship those with low Animalisation. So before you talk to that guard, you should… freshen up, so to speak.”

“Ah,” Zachary said, knowingly. “Gotcha.”

~

“Hey there, mister.” Zachary put on his most disarming smile as he began walking up to the sentry, who was eyeing him like he was absolute filth.

“What do you want, worthless animal? Exchanges aren’t till the end of the week, so you shouldn’t be here. And we have no intention of letting you… things… into our sanctum. Not today, or any day.” The guard spat, his right hand fingering some sort of hidden weapon at his waist.

Standing mere inches from the guard, Zachary could finally make out more details about this man. His right eye had been covered, a piece of cloth wrapped around his head to form a lopsided eyepatch. And while it had been obscured by the large cloak, it was obvious up close that his left arm was gripping on to a crutch.

A crutch that was substituting for the loss of the entire left leg of this guard.

Zachary whistled. “Someone sure did a number on you, eh?”

The guard flared up, exclaiming in a shrill, manic voice. “NOBODY DID ANYTHING TO ME! LEAST OF ALL YOU WEAK BEASTS! THESE SCARS ARE ALL IN SERVICE OF HUMANITY! THEY ARE PROOF OF MY DEVOTION TO THE CAUSE!”

Zachary backed away a few inches as the guard came down from his outburst, huffing slightly from the exertion.

“Okay, I see I may have touched a nerve there. No offense intended, promise. I just want to know how I can meet with your leader.”

The guard shot him a dirty look.

“Our leader won’t meet with anyone but the purest of humankind – least of all an ignorant animalspawn like you.”

“Ok, well, fairly certain you’ll be eating your words in a few minutes. For that matter; could you get someone with Inspect here? Give me a once over? I’m quite certain you’ll be pleased with what you find.”

The man scoffed. “Typical beast. Of course in your arrogance you believe that only some of us can use Inspect. Projecting your deficiencies onto us, as if we’re the same as you. Us humans have no such limitations; we’ve all acquired that skill. How else can we further our pursuit of science and-”

“Oh, so you have Inspect?” Zachary interrupted the start of the guard’s monologue. “Could you kindly please skip all the self-praise and do a little check of my Status, then?”

A few moments later, the guard ushered Zachary through the gate, an apologetic smile on his face. “Why didn’t you just say that you were one of us, brother? We could have saved much time! Are you from a different chapter of Humanity? Or perhaps a new convert? You won’t regret joining us, I can tell you that much. The side of the enlightened!”

Zachary nodded absentmindedly to what the guard was saying, periodically injecting a “yeah” or an “uh huh” to placate him. He was hardly paying attention, for he was more interested in the room rather than whatever small talk the guard was engaging in.

Because despite the entrance to this inner chamber being just about Zachary’s height, it opened up to a flight of stairs, down which a massive underground expanse lay. It must have taken several years to excavate this much dirt and stone, for besides the four walls holding up the celling, the entirety of the space was empty air. There were people in the distance milling about the space – humans, presumably – ferrying stacks of paper from one desk to another. Strings of wired lightbulbs were hung just above those desks, connected by black ropes of rubber snaking out into another room.

Zachary ran a palm across the cool metal railing that lined both sides of the staircase. There were no imperfections on its surface, an indication that it was formed, impossibly, by specialised techniques that should not have existed in this world. And there were another six staircases on the far ends of this subterranean basement, just like the one the guard was currently leading him down, each leading to tunnels that pointed outwards in several different directions.

“Impressive, is it not, Mr Brolk? The Hartan Chapter prides itself on being the birthplace of Humanity; and as such we are the closest to achieving that impossible height!” The guard’s giddy excitement could be plainly heard from the tone of his voice, tinged with hints of smugness, as if proudly proclaiming their superiority over other groups of Humanity.

Zachary didn’t much care. He was in it for whatever knowledge he could glean, not whatever these brainwashed fools believed in.

“Who is this, Daniel? You were given explicit orders to not let any filthy animals into the Room of Learning!” A voice bellowed across the room as a white haired individual strode across the space to come up to Zachary. Much like the doorman, he was missing a limb as well – his right hand, which was replaced with a wooden replica that clacked as it moved.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The elder was dressed in much the same attire as the other drones in the background – a coat similar in appearance to that of an Earth lab coat draped over more rustic fashion more suited for the time – but it was the way he presented himself, sticking out his chest as he strutted to confront the duo; that signalled to Zachary that he had found the person he was looking for.

The one in charge of everything.

“Apologies, Mr John!” The guard replied, bowing deeply. “But his Animalisation values! It’s lower than anything I’ve seen! Even some of the very first devotees couldn’t have achieved something so low!”

John frowned, flipping Zachary’s hood impatiently. He triumphantly pointed at the patches of dirty white fur dotted about his face. “That can’t be right, you imbecile; just take a look at these masses of ugly fur! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, foul beast, but here in the sacred church of Humanity, we can see right through any sort of disguise you may garb yourself in! Inspect!”

Name:

Bonnie Brolk

Race:

Beastkin (Rabbit)

Level:

35

Overall Animalisation:

8%

HP:

649/649

MP:

152/152

Attributes:

LVL

STR:

84

DEF:

103

INT:

45

SPD:

143

LUK:

88

Skills:

LVL

Spear Mastery (Low)

5

Brolk-Style Defensive Arts

3

Beast Form

-

John faltered a little, scarcely believing of the numbers in front of him. “But then… how do you explain-”

He pulled at a patch of fur adhered to Zachary’s skin which quickly peeled right off, the glue having long lost its effectiveness. John gasped in shock, staring in disbelief at the clump of fur in his wooden hand.

He spoke directly to Zachary now, his tone suddenly much softer.

“…are they all…?”

Zachary cautiously replied, “Yeah…?”

“…ah…” John took a step back from him, letting the scrap of rabbit skin slip from his hand and tumble to the floor. “… A true human. Just like the olden days.”

To Zachary’s surprise, actual tears started flowing from John’s eyes, creating tracks as they rolled down his cheeks- as if this old man had been moved just from the mere sight of an entirely falsified Status Page.

You’ve got to be joking, Zachary thought. It’s just a number on a screen. Why the hell do they care so much about something so insignificant?

John began to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his coat, sniffling. “I convey to you my greatest apologies, little one. You must have been treated horribly by your people to have to hide yourself so.” The elder flashed an awkward smile at him. He clapped his wrinkled hands together, having made up his mind.

“Right! Names! We’ll give you a human name; nothing like that false Beastkin title bestowed onto you. Then I’ll show you around the place myself, teach you about your birthright!”

Zachary raised a hand. “Um, I don’t really need another name-”

John waved his objection away. “Nonsense. Down here we all have human names. Civilised ones, not like the ones the beasts have. Follow me.”

Zachary rolled his eyes, but followed anyways. Pointless rituals seemed to be a part of every civilisation, apparently. It would take too much time to argue his way out of it; he might as well just see where it went.

They entered a small dome in the centre of the chamber. Zachary hadn’t noticed it from the top of the staircase – it had the same dull brown as the rest of the surfaces, and was thus camouflaged from view.

This dome, however, seemed to have some sort of ceremonial purpose – for despite the multiple desks filled with haphazard reams of papers and reports scattered around in the so-called Room of Learning, this room had only a single desk, a tattered book set on its surface.

“Go on,” John nudged Zachary towards the desk. “Your destiny awaits.”

Zachary pulled the chair out and sat down, nonchalantly picking up the tome. Out of curiosity, he glanced at the cover- then stopped. He took a closer look, smoothing out the worn creases on the light blue cover, revealing the cartoony image of a stork carrying a giggling baby.

He finally realised exactly what this was.

One Hundred Thousand Baby Names for Expecting Parents- this… this is from Earth!

“Are you done yet, child? There is much to see still in the Church.” John’s kindly voice sounded out behind him, prompting him to hastily open the book and flip the pages.

“Ah, right, hold on…” Zachary turned to a random page and jabbed at a word, his mind still awhirl. How did some random cult get this? Did his teacher… no, that couldn’t be. That person had better things to do than spread some abomination of a cult in one random world out of billions.

Wait… could this instead be something he could use? The presence of something that came from another world implied that there would be a passage to-

Stop it, Zachary chided himself. Worry about this later; one mystery at a time. You’re the new darling of the Cult! Use that to cajole out an answer from their leader!

He pulled his finger away to reveal his new name.

“Bob. Is that okay?”

John laughed heartily, patting Zachary on his back in approval. “Bob! A wonderful name! Short and to the point; very efficient! As humans should be!”

The old man ducked out of the domed room, turning and beckoning for Zachary to follow. “Come, let me tell you about our Church; how we came to be, and what we’re aiming to do. You won’t be disappointed!”

Before Zachary left, he shot the book on the table one last lingering glance. Something that should not have existed here, but did indeed exist here. So how did it come to be? In this place, in this time?

He would find out; no matter what.

~

“So Bob,” John said, as they strolled away from the dome towards some sort of housing area, filled with bunk beds. “How did you hear about the Church? The usual way?”

“Oh, yeah. The Threat of Humanity.”

“Ah, that drivel.” The elder chuckled derisively. “No, that’s all propaganda, I’m afraid. The truth of the matter is, the Beastkin are scared. Frightened of us. As all obsoleted specimens rightly should be.”

He gestured at their surroundings. “Look at how much more advanced we are than them. We’ve created florescent lights, brightening our world even in crevices such as this one. What do they have? Primitive torches mounted to walls. We have learnt to harness the power of electricity itself, forming it from nothing but sheer ingenuity and science alone. What do the animals have? Naught but their own two hands with which to tame their surroundings.”

But then his voice turned to a hateful, bitter grumble.

“I cannot deny one fact of our Church, no matter how much I want to do so. We… are outnumbered. They outnumber us hundred to one. They are in control of the farms; our food and water all comes from them. And so,” John muttered. “They own us.”

“Every week, in exchange for food and water - basic rights of all living beings! - they demand our intellect, our hard-earned ideas. Tell me, Bob, do you ever wonder how the Beastkin evolved from the way they once were, tearing each other’s throats out for the dead, rotting carcasses, living in squalid, dank caves? Why they now play at being human; creating towns, armor, carriages and language? Hmm?”

Zachary shook his head. It seemed to be the response that John wanted, since he continued.

“It was us humans. We were the ones that brought them from their caves and taught them civilisation. We were the ones to give them the things they now take for granted. But now? They only let us live here as long as we are of use to them. Isn’t that quite a hoot? For all our smarts, all our technology and research; we lose in the one way that matters most. Strength. They… unfortunately… are stronger than us.”

John sighed, heavily.

“And so the surface is theirs. And we cower in squalid, dank caves like the beasts of old.”

The old man spoke a lot more quietly now, as if reminiscing over some regret he held. They were barely audible lines, whispered such that Zachary had to lean in to catch every word.

But catch every word he did.

“… It shouldn’t be them. It should be us. Man, not beast.”