Resurrection Log: Ź̷̼͖ý̶̧̡̩̫͉͔͇̓̈́̋̎̽̌͐͛̈́̎̒́̐̍͠r̴̢͓̖̲͙̲̮͋̉̓̾͒̑͜͠ͅa̵̡̨̦͍͉̳͎͕̞͔̲̺̰̩̩̽͑̆̈̌́̏͝g̵̼͈̟̗͔͋́̈́̀͆̀̚ą̸̯̽̈́̑͒͑́ṙ̷͙̝̥͔̳̜̗͖̦͉͓͕͗̈́̇̇͂̐̍̒̍̔d̸͇̞̥͓̠̈́͒͋̌̐͝ ̶̨̧̛͔̲̻̖͚̠̣͔̻̰̫̒̇͐͜͠T̴̠͓͔̦̩̻̼̖̽͆̍͆̓̊̽̔̚͠ơ̷̶̵̸̸̸̡̛̛̬̖̰̦̦̮͚̗̞̻̻̞̻̙̘̘͈͈̭̲͙̪͍̭̭͉͚̤̅̾̽͋̀̑̋̆̍̉̇̉̈́̿͋͒̇̊̓̂̿̿̑̈́͆͑͌̂̌̑̆̉͘̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͠ţ̷̢̢̛͙̩͎̥͈̝̖̈̄͛̄͊̆̓̈́̊ͅͅȩ̸̠͍̱̖̺̣̖̄̉̔͜ņ̷̡͓̘̥̠̖̝̺͈̥͔̲͊k̴̛̯̫̪͑̽̔́̅͂̿̂͋̉̂̕͘͠y̵̟̟̰̪̻̼̖̌̽̇̓́̍̃͒̾̕̚͝͠r̵̢̨̠͉̼̲̲͛͒̂̽̄͐͌̏͘͘͝a̴̛̰̙̫͂͐̓̐ḿ̷̡̛̤͙͕̼̱̻͙̔͌̓̈̏͑̔̈́̓͘̚ą̸̧̧̯̺̫͈̞͎̻̤̫̂͐̐͘ņ̷̨̱̖̟͖͚̣̂͌͗̌̾̔́̕ ̶̨̨̲̘̭͚̣̝̞̲͔̦̽̾̏̄̒́̚͝K̷̖̻̘̣͐̽̀̅͛͜͜͜ṟ̴̛͇̺͈̲͉̤̰̰̥͉͓̜͑̈́͌̔̍̓́̕ą̷̼̄̾͊̓̽̾͊̈̒̍̍́̉̚͝l̸̨̞͇͈̖͔̘̜̱̦͈̊

Year 76,589 of the —Mother of Ruin—

M:6 D:17

Day 973 of Cycle 3

[transcribed memory/thoughtstream generated by Ṁ̵̢̘̭̬̙̘̦̳͓̺͈̪̒̂ǫ̵̨̛̠̫̻̐̋̓͗͗͗̏̎͂̿͌̕t̴̜̪͇͕͚́̓͐h̴̯͍̼̦̯̝̜̝̤͂͋͆͌͗͝ę̸͉͖͕̜̤̘͙͎͚̈́̏͒̒̄̏̃̋͘̕͘͜ȓ̸̢̨͍͉̱̮̞͔̋̇ ̴̡̛̱̳̘̠͎̫̩̪̦̠̦̣̀͒͛͊̚͠G̷̰̹̝͆̈͜į̸̧̟͙̰͖̳̯̈́̒͜͜g̶͉̗̹̻̟̰̞̭̠͉͙̈́͊̌̈̈̓̐̒̕ạ̵̧̧̘͖͔̟̝̳̅̇̂̂̅̓̇͛̓͋̊̏̇̕t̵̮̉͒̋̄̑̇̌̀̅͑̋͋r̶̻̟͗̋̀̆̿̃̔̄͒̎̊̈́̚o̵̪̦͇̫̾̋̊̾̋͗͗̊͊̄͜͠͝ḡ̵̛̰͎̇̐͒͋̊̀͝ẗ̶̡̮̠͈̗̗̃͛̈̊̾ḩ̴͍̖͖̥͈̻̪̖̤̰̥̣̋͌̚ř̵̝̤̩͈͎̤͎̯̤͔̝̬̖̓̏͐̀̿̊̂̈͋̕͝͝ĭ̴̡̡͙̺̪͕̻̺̥̫̭̜̺̳̃̂͊̓́̅̈́̎̀̽̀̚ͅṃ̵̨͇̺̪̤̄͜ȧ̵͓̟͖̞̩̤͙̩̖̠̝̣̔ź̶̡͇͍̝̳͚̱͖̳͖̬͓̋̂͜ ̸̢̺͚̍̎̈́̂͛̂̐͐̊̕̚͜͝͝Ȉ̵̢̹̜̞͆̃͗̅̈́̋͒̅͝Í̶̡͓͓̰̥̤̗̱̀͛́͆̒͋̂͠͝I̴̟̞̪̯͍̟̿̂̐̌͑̎̅̋͐͆̍́] [cont’d]

Without looking at me, and very quickly, Rin pulled back the blankets and slid beneath them. Twisting around to lie on her side facing my body, she was careful not to meet my eyes. I hesitated, then joined her beneath the bed coverings to mirror her position. At once, she shoved forward—and at first I feared she would plaster herself again against my still-healing chest.

But she stopped just short, bumping her forehead against a part of me—the side of my neck—which was largely undamaged. One arm she tucked beneath herself, the other she draped lightly over my body, coming to rest on a relatively unscathed portion of my ribs and back. Her fingers she tucked beneath the base of one of my tentacles…a wildly sensitive region, but I did my best to withhold any physical reaction.

Rin squirmed. Stilled. Sighed, and squirmed again, a little bit closer. I wondered if she was having difficulty getting comfortable.

“Put your arms around me!” she finally said in an exasperated hush against my chest.

Oh.

I took the arm which was tucked beneath me and extended it, stretched it out to rest beneath her neck and then brought it up around her back. The right one I curled around her other side to meet it.

“Pressure, please.”

Abandoning my apparently undesired efforts at delicacy, I allowed my hands to press close, to really feel her, even kneaded at her muscles somewhat in the way she had at mine. I had liked that.

She released a sigh and snuggled her face in closer to my neck, the tension in her body easing under my touch.

“Tentacles, too?”

After a moment’s hesitation, I allowed the appendages in question to come forward, curling around her body, careful that none came to rest on any of what humans commonly consider their “erogenous zones.” Rin exhaled again, almost happily, and a shiver passed up and down the length of her body. Before long she was still and quiet, her neural oscillations shifting into those typical of a human’s first stages of sleep.

With her comfort assured, I returned the majority of my attention toward bodily regeneration and adjustment. But a part of it I kept in reserve for her. For how she felt in my arms and tentacles. For the shifting patterns of her mind. For the steadiness of her breath.

Two hours and thirty three minutes later, the desired outcome of some of my most recent adjustments began to manifest itself. A new sense bloomed to life within me. Like an ever-expanding sphere. A sphere which took up no space, and yet swallowed me entirely. A sphere which overlapped every dimension in which I existed, yet was anchored in none of them.

I was at the center of it, and with each instant it grew, albeit minutely. I took pains to contain its growth. To contain and control all of the qualities I had incorporated from the Starseer’s DNA. I call it that for lack of a better term, for her Warp had been so extreme that the structures containing her genome retained only a faint resemblance to those of ordinary humans. I took great care in the process, for I did not wish to become overwhelmed, consumed by my own transformation as she had been.

And in possession of but a small piece of her power, I had no difficulty in understanding the ease with which it had broken a human mind.

I perceived the planet Elysian, and the space immediately surrounding it, in its entirety.

Testing the new sense, I concentrated my mind upon the thought of the EFC base (The acronym stands for Elysian Freedom Coalition, I have since learned). At once I pinpointed it within the sphere, and it flared forward in my awareness, until it seemed as though I was hurtling down through the waters without ever truly feeling it. Until I viewed the interior of the base itself.

I sought out Jonathan first.

He was not dead.

In fact, no one had died in my escape from the base, except of course the Starseer. Ellie. I surmised the man I had crushed along with Jonathan must have freed himself and then the others I had bound with hypersilk, for Jonathan was too injured to have done it. He lay, broken, bandaged, and apparently unconscious in their infirmary—a medic in attendance who himself looked nearly ready to topple to the floor with exhaustion and injury.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Meanwhile, Rin’s volunteer assault team had only just reached the Triton. I assessed their chances. With their radar and other sensory equipment, the base would not be completely surprised by the vessel’s arrival. But their people were not in peak condition. I wondered if some of them might choose not to fight. Unfortunately, Jonathan’s charisma was the cumulative effect of multiple factors, including a powerful pheromonal concoction. I did not think it would be entirely mitigated by his being unconscious, and some individuals were clearly more susceptible to it than others.

Rin had not expected her ex-husband’s abilities to work on a non-human such as myself and did not know about my genetic additions, and so she’d not thought to warn me. The team, however, had gone in prepared—with the knowledge not to look him in the eye and with masks to filter his pheromones from the air. It would mitigate some of the effect of his power, at least, but probably not all of it.

In considering every possible relevant factor, it was difficult to determine where the advantage lay, but I surmised that my own side had an edge. I hoped that I was right. I withdrew my attention from the base and from my new sense, returning it to the small human woman in my arms. Her neural activity had shifted abruptly, and she’d begun to move and kick in her sleep. Her lips were twisted downward, her whole face contorted by distress.

I applied more pressure—with my arms, my hands, my tentacles—and pulled her in closer, though it increased the pain in my still-healing t̸̟̀̊r̸̬̙͐̑y̶͍̹͌͘p̴̼̪͊͝t̸̡̾͝ḧ̴̢́͜ỳ̸͎r̸͕̿a̷̺̾x̷̛̹̮̏. Almost at once her writhing ceased. Her oscillations steadied. I checked back in on the base to find the Triton quite nearly upon it.

Wishing to avoid the anxiety of continuously witnessing the event from such an impotent vantage point, I forced myself to refocus once more. I would allow myself to look in on the base only once every hour, and no more than that. Some time later, Rin began to stir again. Her eyelids pulled open, and I loosened my grip on her as she yawned and stretched.

“Thanks, Zyr,” she said, and I withdrew my appendages entirely as she made to sit up. “I really needed that. I’m…gonna go take a shower now.”

She left me, then, and I returned yet again to the task of self-repair, now nearly complete. I admit myself rather deficient when it comes to the healing of damaged tissues in comparison to others of my kind. My one excuse is that I have focused my efforts and practice toward the modification of my outward appearance and the acquisition of new abilities, and that I do, at least, excel in that regard. I also took that opportunity to attend to the hygiene of my own body, as well as to consume what remained of my uniform and begin the generation of a new one, this time of my own design.

When enough time had passed, I looked in on the Base.

There was a great deal of shooting going on.

Rin knocked at my door once more. Her hair was slightly damp, and she’d changed into a pair of jeans and another oversized shirt, this one depicting a snowy forest landscape and a pair of white-furred wolves. My own clothing was not finished yet, and so I was dressed only up to my waist. This seemed to interest Rin, who at first pointed her eyes at my chest and abdominal meats—my muscles—rather than at my eyes.

“Hey, we’re having brunch downstairs, if you wanna join,” she said, brushing a lock of hair out of her face.

I had no idea what brunch was, but followed her to the kitchen in my incomplete attire nonetheless. There, a large countertop at the center of the floor—they called this an island—served as an informal table for those gathered on high stools around it. V was in attendance, having arrived that morning to spend time with Lore. His brother, Jack C, had joined the assault team.

“Morning, Zyr,” Lore greeted me as I entered, her tone somewhat tremulous as her eyes darted between my injuries. I wondered what she had been told about the whereabouts and activities of those absent.

The two larvae of the household—the babies, I mean (absolutely ridiculous word)—were seated in raised chairs with little tables pressed to the front of them, effectively restricting their movement. Human young must be constantly monitored and actively withheld from death and injury, as each one begins their life inclined toward hastening its end.

“Hope you’re hungry,” said Indri, baring her lovely slender fangs as she smiled over a me.

“I…I am hungry,” I informed her, quite surprised by the realization. My physiology had not changed so much that I needed to directly consume nutrients in any save the most dire of circumstances. But in claiming the capacity for human sensory experiences, it seemed I had acquired a false sense of need, as well. Or perhaps it was merely a craving.

“Good,” said Marah, filling a cup with coffee and adding cream and sugar before shoving it into my hands. “Because I’m pretty sure we made way too much.” Beside her, Grayman presided over the preparation and allocation of foods. Allico was not there. She had joined the team retaking the base. Quite enthusiastically, in fact. Shosho had gone as well.

I was given a plate. The plate was filled with things called pancakes, which were covered in butter and a thick, sugary fluid known as syrup. There were also Elysian figs from a tree just outside, some bacon—salty, fatty slabs of belly meat from the vat-grown approximation of an earth mammal, and (real) scrambled bird eggs with cheese, green onions, and a great deal of black pepper. I devoured it all, appreciating the many ways in which the different flavors interacted with one another. [human-style cooking has since become of particular interest of mine, and my familiarity with their ingredients has greatly increased.]

Conversation did not flow well, as—I surmised—the adults avoided the topic of the mission in which we were not participating. Whether this was for the perceived benefit of the younger ones or to avoid their own feelings of guilt and anxiety, I could not tell. But the instant Lore and V finished their food, they excused themselves and headed upstairs, no doubt to Lore’s room. At first I assumed they meant to game together, but it was not long before I heard the faint strains of argument issuing through the floor and walls.

“Gods I hope everything’s going alright,” said Indri under her breath a few minutes later.

I refocused, peering into the world-sphere until I could once more perceive events at the base.

There was still a great deal of shooting going on. A peel of wild laughter drew my attention to Allico, whose pinkish skin was covered in a thick layer of glossy ooze, eyes wild and face lit up with glee as she plowed her way down a corridor. I was fairly certain the rifle was set for stun-rounds, the bodies piling up in her wake merely unconscious.

It seemed our side was winning. I considered informing the others, but I was unsure of how I should explain the manner in which I’d gained the ability to witness events at the base. And so, for the time, I said nothing of it.

“Whoa, Zyr,” Rin set her coffee cup down on the island, reaching over to brush her fingers across the curled end of one of my tentacles where it rested beside my plate. “When did you get shiny?”

I glanced down, and noticed for the first time that the ends of my tentacles had indeed taken on a faint, sparse glimmer…like a scattering of stars in a shrouded night.

Like her.

“It’s the skin of a killer,” whispered Rin.

I stared at her, wondering for the first time if, perhaps, she resented me for fulfilling Ellie’s request. The smirk on her face suggested otherwise, however.

The human adults then made pitchers full of alcoholic beverages called mimosas to “take the edge off.” I siphoned four glass’s worth. Then, quite inebriated, I chose to check on the mission once more.

Things had taken a turn for the worse.