No.
No!
Something within me revolts against what’s happening, at how inevitable it appears. It’s not the first time I’ve raged against fate, not anywhere close. But it is the first time that I might be able to do something about it. I’ve survived so much so far, grown beyond probably all the people I knew on Earth. I’m not going to let some life-vampire liquid ruin everything now.
With metaphysical hands which I had no idea even existed until now - desperation has lent me inspiration - I grab the cord connecting me and the monster in my hand. Once formed of mana, now it’s a strangely slippery cord woven of health and stamina. Engaging the Willpower which I’ve increased through gift, level up, and sheer bloody-mindedness, I grip onto that cord and refuse to let go.
The drain slows, then it stops. Mentally doing the equivalent of setting my teeth and feet and leaning back, I put all the force I can muster into tugging on that cord. Utterly convinced that my life depends on me winning this tug-of-war, I refuse to lose. I don’t know where the force comes from. At this moment, I don’t care. All I know is that, somehow, I can hold the cord; somehow, I can exert pressure on it.
For a moment, it feels like the world is holding its breath. Nothing moves, nothing changes.
And then, so slowly, slowly enough that at first I think I’m imagining it, the flow reverses. In the beginning, it is just a sense that I get from the metaphorical hands holding the metaphysical cord. Then, I actually see results as my health and stamina bars tick up bit by infinitesimal bit.
The success emboldens me and I pull with even more force, using reserves that I didn’t realise I had, not even in my sheer desperation a moment ago. The flow quickens, my stamina and health returning to full, and then my mana bar increasing once more. It increases past half, then three-quarters, and then is full once more.
But the flow doesn’t stop there. I’m no longer tugging, but the cord is still present, providing a route from my hand to my core. Triumph turns into horror as I realise that all I’ve done is invite the molten substance to skip all the intervening space and go straight for what feels like the centre of my everything.
I start panicking as the thick heat moves up the cord like concrete through a pipe. It’s slow, but nothing I do seems to be able to stop it. I try to push the cord away, to cut through it, to redirect it. The cord, despite probably being merely a metaphysical or metaphorical construct, could have been made of steel and fixed in place by solid rock for all that I’m able to affect it. Perhaps I could do something if I used my mana, but after the last round, I’m not keen to try that again.
All I can do is helplessly watch as the impossibly hot substance crawls towards me. By this point, cutting my hand off is probably not an option; heck, cutting my arm off is probably not an option either – the molten substance has already gone through my shoulder joint. The only good thing is that it doesn’t feel like it’s devouring me any more: with a path for it to follow, it doesn’t need to create one itself by destroying every bit of me in its way.
In fact, although the substance in my hand is as hot and agonising as ever, the part of it travelling towards the core of my body is surprisingly innocuous. Of course, I don’t expect that to remain true as it comes into contact with the glow of mana where the cord has its anchoring point.
Preparing myself tiredly once more to put up a fight as it tries to consume my health, stamina, and mana, I’m surprised when the substance doesn’t actually do that at all. Instead, it almost eagerly pours itself into my core. At first, it’s a relief. I don’t dare to relax, but I do dare to hope.
The molten substance is still hot, but somehow it doesn’t burn me, not here in the centre of my being. After a short time, however, it does start feeling uncomfortable. A bit like I’ve consumed rather too much at an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. Then the discomfort worsens, like even after I’d eaten too much, I’d continued shovelling it down, and for some reason I didn’t become nauseous and vomit. Instead, I’d just continued by forcing my stomach to expand past where it should have. Only, it’s not my stomach that’s being affected, but something else entirely.
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The over-expansion soon becomes an agony of its own, almost overtaking that already raging in my hand. Worse, it feels like whatever is being forced to expand is at the limit of its capacity, and might break at any moment.
There’s been the nagging sense of a notification ever since I first started feeling ‘full’. I hadn’t dared to shift my attention enough to check it out. Now, though, I can only hope that it might possibly offer me a solution. Honestly, I’ve racked my brain to think of a way of cutting off the flow and I’m losing hope of being able to affect either the substance in my hand or the part of me that feels like it’s an over-filled water-balloon on the tipping point between being intact and popping. Feeling that I’m a drowning man clutching at straws, I quickly open the message, somehow going directly to the one that is most relevant despite the others I see waiting for me.
Congratulations!
You have gathered enough Energy to push your body to the next level. Would you like to level up?
Y/N
Wait, what? I think, flabbergasted. Is it…? Could it be…? Surely… No. I can think about these things after I’ve prevented myself from decorating the walls à la Markus Wolfe. That’s what it feels like I’m on the verge of doing, anyway. If levelling up will help, that’s what I’m going to do. I can think about the whys later.
I assent to the level up and quickly just assign my six stat points to Intelligence, Wisdom, and Willpower like I’d done before – perhaps even if levelling up doesn’t help, they’ll make the difference so I can figure a way out of the situation I’m in.
I feel the usual bliss take over my body, but this one isn’t nearly so all-encompassing, in such pain as I am already. In fact, I feel like it rewires my brain a bit, to feel so much pleasure and so much pain all at once. When the wave of pain comes afterwards, it’s oddly not nearly as powerful as usual. I would have thought that the sensations of pain would add to each other, but perhaps the soul-deep pain from whatever is happening to me is just too strong to allow bodily sensations much space.
Following my level-up, the feeling of having eaten far, far too much is significantly improved. I still feel ‘full’ in a way, but it’s not threatening to explode me all over the walls. Some of my suspicions strengthen, but I have no time to think through them or the implications of them: the molten substance is still coming up through the tube from my hand and I’m beginning to feel overfull again.
This time, as soon as the nagging notification feeling comes, I just think to level-up immediately. Again, I dump my six points once more into my mental and soul stats, since I think they did help me feel a little better. Once more, the bliss is less overwhelming, but so is the pain that follows.
The flow keeps coming, its presence in my hand seemingly almost in-exhaustible. I’m a little concerned, though – the substance, which I’m almost certain is somehow liquid Energy, has turned from concrete in consistency to milkshake and is coming quicker. Or maybe the cord has widened. I don’t know. The centre of my body becomes over-satiated once more shortly after I complete the level-up process. Of course, I accept the level up again, once more choosing the path that seems to be working for me.
The Energy comes quicker and quicker, one level-up happening quickly upon the heels of the previous. I lose count, honestly. My whole world is a wash of pleasure and pain, both blending into each other so that pleasure becomes pain and pain becomes pleasure and both become neither. I’ve lost my sense of normality; this is the new normal. I’ve become somewhat accustomed even to the soul-deep pain that at first felt like I was being dipped into lava. It doesn’t vanish, but it..impacts me less. Impairs me less. Slowly, both pleasure and pain hold less sway on my mind and I become more able to think through those moments even when either of them is at its highest. All I am able to do is keep going, grimly forcing myself to level up again and again.
When I finish one level up process, only to immediately find myself once more on a knife’s edge where it feels like I could explode at any moment, I realise that I need to find a different strategy. There’s only so quickly I can activate the level-up, mentally direct the system to place the points in the stats of my choosing, and choose which subsections of Wisdom should be increase. I consider briefly not adding points to Wisdom, instead just putting them in Willpower and Intelligence, but then dismiss the thought – if anything, I need as much wisdom as I can get here. No, there’s a deeper problem here. Not only is this clearly not a sustainable one in terms of the speed of Energy flow, but I feel...fragile. It’s hard to describe, but somehow I instinctively know that so many level-ups, each on the heels of the previous is not a good thing for something key inside me.
The molten Energy in my hand is significantly reduced, but it’s still there, perhaps a fifth of it remaining. While it’s flowing into my core, it doesn’t seem so keen to eat at my soul, or whatever, but I have a feeling that that would change if I got rid of the metaphysical tube. With my increased stats, I sense that I could cut the tube now, if I chose. I don’t because I also sense that that would be a very bad idea. Despite my increased stats, pushing the substance out of my body entirely seems to be impossible.
It seems to need something to flow down. Or something to consume in order to take over a space. For a brief fraction of a second, I consider directing it down my Bonds. I sense that this might be possible. As soon as I’ve thought it, I dismiss it. I have no guarantee that River, Bastet, or the bird might be any better at dealing with this than me, and if I hurt them the way I know I’ve been hurt… No, I need to think of something else.
I suddenly have an idea. Even if I can’t get rid of the tube, even if I can’t keep absorbing it the way I have been, maybe I can change the destination; absorb it in a different way… Once more, doing nothing is not an option, and I sense that continuing to do what I’m already doing will doom me. So, what do I have to lose?