9.

Saying that at this point, James was panting and gasping like a dying man, was an understatement. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted as he leaned against the floor, knees painfully contacting the cold floor in a harsh, merciless impact. He knew he wasn’t safe from…whatever that was, but…now that he was no longer exposed to the openness of the city streets, his body had collapsed under him.

He would have laughed and made a joke about how despite being so young, it already felt like he needed retirement, if he hadn’t been so seriously shaken. So young, and so aged. How…young…again? He frowned at his own thought, confused at the lack of reply for the posed question. How old was he? Surely not too old, after all he didn’t look…what did he look like again?

James started to grow more and more fearful at each unanswered question, and he tightly grasped his head, closing his eyes. Breathing in…breathing out. Only to roughly be shaken by a fit of coughs that almost seemed to shake the entirety of the all too quiet building he was in. Damn, had he strained his lungs.

James spit into the corner and began standing up in trembling legs, looking around for the first time. He was met with the vision of what could only be described of as a museum, or a repository of important objects and knowledge. Even if those changed from planet to planet, the feeling of being inside one didn’t.

James groaned loudly at his luck, rubbing his aching temple. He then began moving forward, and restarted the transmission, wincing as his loud steps violated the silent stillness that lingered on the sleeping museum. Despite nearly giving himself a heart attack running through deserted streets not so long ago, the serene peacefulness of the environment invited him to relax his weary muscles, and he felt his guard down ever so slightly. It was impossible not to, as his eyes began to trace the multitude of carefully arranged objects before him, each more interesting than the previous.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He vaguely remembered that the transmission would not capture the floating text appearing on his mask, or the animations that brought all sorts of skeletons to life in a painfully detailed fashion. James kept moving further and further away from the door, eyes still darting dangerously and with a ferocious glint every so often, but it was quickly substituted by gasps of amazement as he unravelled more and more of the Wanderer.

His mesmerized eyes explored freely as they darted enthusiastically from one room to the next, all thoughts of the creature on temporary hold as James’s mind was enthralled by each of them. Yet, the painful pressure on his mind made him recurrently aware that he was not alone. That for each gasp of marvelled surprise, a set of eyes were following him. He felt like he should be more worried, but…whatever it was hadn’t attacked yet and…he felt so tired. Exhausted beyond words and thought. So much so, that concerning himself with potential demise seemed futile, and a waste of energy.

He continued to explore the corridors and rooms in silent admiration, until he stopped abruptly in front of a display. He could not read the alien text, but…there seemed to be no doubt about it. Before him appeared to be the very process of fabrication of the blasted metal that covered each and last inch of the forsaken planet. His eyes widened as he followed the process, and groaned in exasperated realization as it becomes apparent that the metal was in fact, not ordinary inorganic metal.

The first stage of the process seemed to be gathering the damaged metal and placing some sort of alien plants on top of it. It almost seemed as if the plants were expected to absorb the metal into their structure. Then automatons removed the plants, which were chopped in very small portions that were fed into an aquarium with fish. This fish would then be captured and burned until only ashes remained, and said ashes appeared to be mixed with the glowing lichen that seemed to be the only living being gracing the surface of the Wanderer.

James looked confused at the whole thing, but he nodded to himself and congratulated himself on the fact that he had bet correctly on the metal having a living component. His eyes were beginning to flutter and flicker, as he felt himself fight to retain consciousness.

Not wanting to hit his head and gain himself a contusion, James decided to sit on the floor, quietly observing the process displayed ahead of him as his eyes close again. Just before his eyes shut, he discerns the figure that has been pursuing him, lingering in the corner of his eye.