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119. Intolerable Weakness

~~~Stanley~~~

The terrifying sound was that of nails clicking against stone. The sound of breathing. The sad sound of a crying pug.

Caffeine entered Stanley's domain and dropped a giant chicken leg from his mouth. Then he shrank down, ripped a bite from the massive hunk of meat, and dropped it on Stanley's upturned face.

After which, he howled a very sad, very soft little howl.

You have heard the Worried Howl of the Beast Lord.

+100% Effectiveness of All Base Attributes to Friends

+200% All Regeneration

Stanley had heard that before, while he fought his way down here and lost himself in the violence... "Why, Caff?" Stanley whispered hoarsely. "Why do you still care? Why won't you give up on me?"

Caffeine picked up the chicken and dropped it on his face again.

Stanley knew why, of course. He'd seen into Caffeine that one time. Way back when he'd foolishly thought Samantha would steal Caffeine from him. When he'd seen without a doubt that Caffeine would never let him go...

Caffeine would never leave him. The poor little guy couldn't even understand the concept. It wasn't something that could exist in his reality. Stanley knew that.

He'd known that when Caffeine looked at him with fear in his eyes. Caffeine couldn't fear Stanley. It was another impossible bit of reality that could not exist in Caffeine's mind. Caffeine hadn't feared him. He had feared for him. He had feared for what Stanley might do...

Chicken once again fell on his face, and Stanley caught it this time. He chewed even as it stung his mouth, where a cheek was still regenerating. He swallowed and cried when he felt the little curly tail start wiggling back and forth.

Stanley sat himself upright before Caffeine could drop more chicken on him and used his hand to tear the next piece from the massive leg.

It was cooked, even if it wasn't hot. Had Jerry given it to him? Or had Caffeine stolen it? Did it matter?

He ate a bite and offered the next piece to Caffeine. With heartbreaking results.

Caffeine refused to eat it. He refused to eat chicken... and only whined until Stanley ate it himself. Then his tail wagged again.

"Damn it, Caff. Are you secretly an angel?" Only he knew that wasn't true. Caffeine was better than any stupid fucking angel could ever hope to measure up to.

Stanley ate the entire chicken leg, interspersed with meditation breaks. Which came out to eating more than his entire body weight in meat. He tried to share more than once, but Caffeine wasn't having it. Probably because of all the regeneration Stanley needed.

He did get Caffeine to take the bone, and Stanley leaned against the enlarged pug's side while looking through his notifications. It was a distraction from what he needed to do, but a welcome one.

There were lots of debuff messages, followed by regeneration and the removal of the debuffs. Some attribute gains, including strength and dexterity, those probably because he'd gone in swinging rather than crushing the monsters with his mind. There were also a surprising amount of class and skill levels...

He supposed this whole lair had involved him using his power in a way he hadn't before. Which might also explain one of his new class skills on offer.

Class Level Up: Soul Psionic

Soul Psionic has reached the Expert Threshold. No Evolutions Available. Ranking up to Level 100 (Expert)

New Class Skills Available.

It was the first new skill on the list that drew his attention.

Psionic Armaments (Rare)

My mind is the weapon. My mind is the armor.

User wraps their body in a hardened layer of Psionic energy. This may serve as both armor and weapon at the Psionic's will.

Armaments may also increase physical attributes dependent on how much energy user invests.

Total power investiture dependent on skill level and willpower.

Skill Level Effects (Novice):

+1% Effective Willpower

+1% Available Investiture

It seemed like a waste. What was the point of making his body stronger rather than just killing his enemies? Maybe if he ran into something that was very resistant to psionic energy... and had an actual weapon to use with the skill? Even then, wouldn't it be better to wield it the way he had before?

Soul Burn (Epic)

A burn for a burn.

User may burn a target soul using a portion of their own soul as the ignition point.

Damage dealt to both souls dependent on the skill level, willpower, and soul attribute of the user. As well as the soul attribute of the target.

Skill Level Effects (Novice):

+1% Effective Soul

A soul skill... It made sense, seeing as his class now involved soul. But soul burn? He had to damage his soul to hurt someone else? It didn't even say how much it would hurt him. Was that how all soul attacks worked? It couldn't be.

Stanley left it and eagerly checked out the final skill option.

Mental Fortress (Epic)

A mind is a terrible thing to leave undefended. So don't.

User creates a mental fortress. Anything attempting to touch the psionic's mind must first breach the fortress.

Mental Fortress defense dependent on mind attributes and skill level.

Skill Level Effects (Novice):

+1% Effective Mind Attributes

That skill didn't seem like something he needed. As far as he knew, nothing had ever tried to touch his mind... so long as he didn't include a rather substantial amount of unpleasant memories and emotions that filled his brain.

Despite that, Stanley was adamantly against anything doing so in the future. He already hated the idea of messing with other people's minds, never mind someone messing with his. Given the other options, it seemed like the obvious choice. Though he wasn't sure how to go about leveling it...

Hopefully, learning the skill might also teach him how to level it without having to be under attack? Or would he need to find someone else with mental powers who could help?

Either way, he ignored the skills for now. None of the options would change anything for him immediately.

Caffeine seemed extra content to take his time crunching up the chicken bone. Stanley tried not to think about why the pug might need a break... and instead, he meditated. He could wait down here... where it was peaceful.

He wasn't eager to go back out there. Stanley really didn't want to face any of them after what he'd done...

They must have felt his rage... felt his instability. He could remember Eve's soul when she attacked him. She had been sure that he would kill her for it. But she did it anyway. Because she had no choice. She had to protect Zeke.

Her brother.

Stanley couldn't blame her for that. She threw herself into the fight without hesitation. Without fear for herself. He had... cut off her arm, and she never even flinched.

He had lost his temper. He had... tortured Zeke because the boy wasn't used to pain and froze up. He had beaten Nate bloody because he could. He had hurt Eve because she dared to interfere. Because he was angry.

Sitting here, in the meditation, apart from his emotions, Stanley could see what the problem was. The same problem he'd had for a while now. It wasn't anger. Not wholly.

He was still afraid. So very afraid.

All the times when he nearly died... He had survived, prevailed against all of it, and yet... no one else was stepping up; no one else was strong enough to step up.

There was a growing sense of being alone in this fight, with everyone else standing back to let him face the monsters by himself. Of everyone letting him take the hits. Him and Caffeine.

Stanley knew that wasn't true, not completely. A calmer perspective showed him that much. He wasn't alone. People were trying to help in the fight.

They were just too fucking weak!

As he stewed and ruminated on his memories with emotion now at a distance, Stanley came to another realization.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

It was the smiles—the seemingly carefree and happy weaklings. Why do they get to smile when they aren't the ones paying the price? How fucking dare they!

The way Zeke thought he could go out and fight! As if it would be easy! As if he wouldn't have to scream in agony and still keep fighting! How fucking dare...

Stanley lost the meditation and literally shook with anger. Which drew Caffeine away from his bone to administer some face licks and whines.

That turned his thoughts away from the rage. "Sorry, Caff."

He was being stupid. Zeke wasn't mocking him or making light of his pain. He truly wanted to help. He was even willing to get hurt to prove it. I just went too hard.

Zeke was only a kid. He probably hadn't known true physical pain in his life. Hopefully. Only emotional pain...

Stanley knew the pain was there. He had seen it in the boy's soul but had ignored it because it hit too close to home. Because he didn't want to take on any more pain by caring.

Looking back now, he could see the signs. They hadn't been subtle. Fear and despair that Zeke buried soul-deep. Body-shaking tears, drained silently into a pillow in the dark. All of it was hidden behind a smile that shone strongly from his very soul. Because he still believed in smiling, even after everything.

I'm the one who got it wrong.

It was the anger, after all.

Stanley had used anger to override his fear and keep himself moving, and it had worked extremely well. Until it didn't. Until it turned on him. Hell, his E-grade evolution had literally warned him about it...

Stanley knew he needed to go back and apologize to the boy who had saved his life one dark night. He'd have to apologize to Eve and everyone else... or maybe just some of them... or maybe just Zeke.

Or maybe he could just get close and let Caffeine go visit? That way, Caffeine could get more chicken, and Stanley wouldn’t have to interact with all the people he'd terrorized.

He could go stay at the tower. They didn't hate him yet, and he could keep it that way if he avoided getting too close to anyone. Walter's fancy room would shield them from him. It would be fine.

Also, hadn't the butler mentioned something about a shrink? Would that help? Maybe it was worth a shot if it kept him from torturing children?

Edward was over there. He could get a message if something happened back at Nate's base. Just in case. The least Stanley could do was help if the undead came back for the boy. Otherwise, he could keep his distance.

Dirt started drifting from the ceiling at some point, and Stanley realized with a single nudge into the wall that the destroyed lair was losing its indestructible nature...

He reluctantly headed toward the exit.

Along the way, as he collected the cores, Stanley finally realized the extent of the damage done to his suit. Especially when he tried to stuff cores into his pockets and they fell to the ground. Luckily, his now patchy jacket was still providing the soul shield... He really hoped Walter could fix it and that he wouldn't be too upset.

The collapsing ceilings weren't universal, and he stopped near the surface to continue meditating. That was after he used the remains of his shirt to fashion a makeshift bag for all the cores.

Sure, he could have absorbed them all... but he could also give them to Zeke. An apology. For what little it was worth.

Zeke already had so much shit to deal with... His mom. The cult. Eve. Somehow, despite all that shit, Zeke had remained so optimistic and cheerful. Hopefully, he could bounce back from this, too?

Stanley didn't miss the human souls running around above as they chased a corrupted... something, and he would have waited for them to move on if the lair didn't keep crumbling. Plus, after suddenly sniffing at the air, Caffeine tried to run outside.

Stanley grabbed him and stuck the pug in his lap. Not that he feared for Caffeine... but he did. It was obviously irrational, but he couldn't help it.

He stopped in surprise at the exit... because it was snowing outside. It felt like so long ago since he'd last seen snowfall... especially thick snow like this. It was so quiet. So peaceful.

Aside from the two men ruining the moment as they... butchered a rat?

Caffeine finally squirmed free and ran to greet them. Stanley followed with a warning. "He's friendly!"

It would be a shame if he had to kill them over a misunderstanding...

Both of their heads snapped in his direction at the sound of his voice. "This is our kill! Get your own food!"

They're going to eat that? It was one of the corrupted rats. That much was obvious at first glance. Why would they...

Then Caffeine got closer, and one of the two men suddenly exclaimed, "That's clean meat!" Before lunging at the pug with a small knife.

Cut

Stanley attacked the ground in a burst of rage, opening a long gap through the snow, a dark crack into the ground beneath it, and running in a line that ended at the man's feet. He did that instead of murdering two more humans. Then he dropped into meditation before he could try again.

They asked for death. Attacking Caffeine was a death sentence. But he didn't want to kill anyone... not when he wasn’t sure if he could trust himself.

Plus, the attack was so weak—did it even count? Caffeine hadn't needed to dodge... They were sick. Starving. He could feel that clearly in their terrified souls as they snatched up the corrupted rat and fled.

So instead of putting them out of his misery, Stanley only watched their souls from his meditation.

They didn't go very far before their souls abruptly dimmed, and that was how he noticed the other human souls he'd missed before. Something was hiding them. Probably a lair.

Caffeine was happy to run after them at first. He probably thought they were playing chase. Then he was sad...

It was probably because all the souls in the group were sick. The morons were eating corrupted meat. What did they expect?

Stanley took his time following the pug through the only slightly ruined peacefulness. With no need to trudge through the snow, it was quiet enough to hear the snowflakes touch down. He watched them accumulate on his clothes. He watched snowflakes land on his skin and then melt away. They didn't feel cold. The air didn't even feel cold. Despite each breath leaving him in a little cloud.

He felt a little better when he found Caffeine sniffing outside an old-timey looking church... One of those quaint, small-town style churches. A rectangular box with a sloped roof and a steeple.

Boarded-up windows ran down the sides, and he couldn't see into the interior. That design, plus the fading white paint crumbling on the walls, made the building look far older than it probably was.

He stopped approaching when he felt something... familiar surrounding the building. Familiar energy. Weak energy. He stuck a hand through it with no reaction, then flew to the doors...

Buff Gained: [Weak Sanctuary]

A weak sanctuary of faith.

Effects:

Reduces the chances of detection from all sources outside the sanctuary.

+50% All Regeneration

It might explain how such weaklings were still alive out here. Because he was pretty sure there were F-grades inside... How was that even possible?

Stanley found the door locked when he tried the handle. How... quaint. It felt like a lair structure, which made sense if they'd been living here all this time. Surprisingly, and something he hadn't checked while at any other human lair, it was just locked.

Rather than smash his way through, Stanley just flipped the deadbolt open. He'd really thought there would be something magical keeping it shut...

"It's the monster!" a voice shouted immediately at his entrance. Other voices screamed, and figures scrambled further away in the single large room.

Stanley glared into the dim area with annoyance as he walked down the aisle between the pews and towards the group of people near the pulpit. It stank in here. Stank of death. He opened his mouth to yell at them for being pathetic, and Caffeine grew larger next to him until Stanley's hand rested on the pug's large back.

That mostly shut them and Stanley up. He calmed as they cowered in place, and the only sound was that of Caffeine's feet thumping heavily against the floor.

There were maybe twenty souls in the church, including a man dressed like a priest. All of them were like the two he'd seen outside—emaciated and dying.

But the worst ones—the ones who grabbed Stanley's attention and refused to let go—were the children. Six of them.

They lay unmoving on the floor behind the pulpit, on top of and under old clothes and blankets. None of them so much as stirred at the commotion, and Caffeine whined as he approached, his tail drooping.

"Please spare the children!" the priest rasped as he stepped into Stanley's path. "Take me instead, demon!"

Stanley didn't even look at him. His eyes locked on the unmoving forms.

Why are they so weak? Did no one here fight?

He was so angry. So very angry. Did they just hide in here this whole time? And so very sad. Everyone in the church was sick and dying, but the children looked dead already.

They weren't, but they were close. They looked far too much like mummified corpses... or zombies...

Stanley could feel their souls flickering like candles in the wind, flickering under the assault of his own bleeding soul, and he abruptly realized that his shield was down.

He rectified that by building a stronger soul shield than he ever had before and wrapping it tight around his damaged soul. Then he built it stronger and stronger still, layer after layer.

You demonstrated sufficient mastery to acquire the Non-Class Skill: Psionic Soul Shield (Rare)

Stanley ignored the message and kept layering his shield until their souls stopped guttering. It was a strain on his soul, and Stanley felt like he was pulling on the stitches of Lee's seal. I can do this quickly.

He lifted the unconscious children as gently as he could and started floating them slowly towards the door. The priest looked back and forth between him and the flying children, his soul crying out uselessly. Stanley spoke before the priest could do anything stupid.

"I am going to save all of your lives," he said as calmly as he could to the room. "Go outside. Do not speak to me, do not threaten me, do not threaten my dog... or I will kill you." He was growling at the end.

They moved.

Most of them did. Stanley picked up a couple that didn't or couldn't move, and one cut off a squeak of terror by clapping her hands over her mouth.

Once outside, he lifted all of them into the air.

"It will help if you close your eyes." That was the only warning he gave before the ground fell away and blurred past below.

A few people who hadn't closed their eyes gagged and fought his power, but it was a pathetic resistance. It didn't matter what any of them did. Only the two he'd met outside were actually E-grade...

Stanley took them all toward the only green area left. Not that they could see anything while flying through the swirling snowstorm or beneath the blanket of snow covering the ground. But he didn't need to see. The golden soul coming closer was all he needed to know he was going the right way.

Zeke was outside, beside Nate. Then above him... right as Stanley came into view and saw Nate throw the purifier over his shoulder into the ground hard enough to blast the snow away. Definitely hard enough to hurt...

They didn't feel him coming. Not until he was right on top of them. Stanley winced at the fear rising from Zeke as the boy's eyes widened upon seeing him. Then Zeke saw the unconscious children float to a stop before him, and his fear turned to horror as the golden light bloomed brighter.

Even through the new and stronger soul shield, Stanley could feel all the refugees reviving under Zeke's power. He could feel their fear turn to relief and then joy as more than a few of them broke down crying.

Stanley also felt the golden light of Zeke's aura himself. It helped him resist the urge to scream at these monsters. These worthless humans who'd cowered in their hole until it was almost too late.

Instead of doing that, he carried them all inside, out of the snow, including Zeke.

Eve hadn't been outside with her brother, but she must have felt Stanley's arrival somehow because she was charging closer.

Everyone was settled onto tables in the dining room when she came around the corner with weapons already glowing. But she was too late. Stanley was already half a mile away and getting further by the second.

He stopped at his house, dropped his soul shield, and went into meditation on the porch.

Caffeine had stayed behind, and Stanley let him. The pug had been so sad and worried for the children... He deserved to see Zeke make them better. Stanley could wait here for him.