“You fucking parasitic monster!” Theodora screeches, following up her first punch with an immediate second. The blows are amateurish, but more than enough to knock the slime-Revenant flat. “One-hundred and fifty-three hours—”

“—thirteen minutes and forty-three seconds, I know!” the slime-revenant snaps back, her old man’s body seemingly no more frail than Theodora’s young one. They are, after all, both equally dead. “You never shut up about it! I don’t know how you got free, but…”

Theodora breaks through the slime’s guard and socks her in the jaw, shutting the former parasite up. The slime tackles her in response, knocking over the table and slamming both of them into the floor.

“Why can’t I swim back into you!?”

Penelope coughs politely, glancing at me.

“Shouldn’t you stop them…?”

I watch the fight for a bit, the savage blows between the two undead breaking bloodless skin.

“...Nah,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “Theodora kinda earned this. They can sort out their differences.”

Penelope follows my gaze, nodding back.

“True enough. It does seem like a cathartic way to greet one’s torturer.”

“You’re not gonna beat me up, are you mom?” Vitamin asks impishly.

“No, silly!” I tell her, reaching up to tickle her sides. “I already killed you! We’re totally even!”

My dead daughter giggles, though I doubt it’s because the corpse she inhabits is actually ticklish. Penelope gives us an odd stare as the vicious brawl continues across the floor next to us.

“Vita, did you adopt the slime that tried to take over your body?”

“Yep!” I answer happily. “Well, posthumously. But she’s a little kid with all my memories, and she calls me mom, and… y’know. It fits, right? She’s mine.”

“And you’re mine!” Vitamin declares, grinning down at me.

“Goodness, this is only going to end well,” Penelope deadpans. “What is with you and doting on inhuman horrors?”

I shrug.

“My soul has tentacles, Penelope. I’m pretty sure I’m an inhuman horror. I just kinda empathize with that, you know?”

“You’re as human as anyone I’ve ever met, Vita,” Penelope insists. “I’ve done very thorough scans. Your body is perfectly normal, you just have a rare talent.”

“Yeah, but my soul is weird. And when you think about it, my soul is more ‘me’ than my body is, ri—”

I cut myself off, attention suddenly snapping to the fight. Human-Theodora just smacked Slime-Theodora hard enough to shatter a few of the old-man bones in her body. That by itself doesn’t seem like it’s worth caring too much about, but as the impact hit I felt Slime-Theodora’s soul crack as well, prompting a hoarse scream of pain.

“Stop,” I order, my voice freezing both Revenants immediately.

Human-Theodora stands above her former captor, one foot poised to crash into the slime-Revenant’s ribs again. They both stare at me with the kind of fearful, guilty expression Lyn’s little ones make when they’re caught hoarding food.

Taking Vitamin off my shoulders I walk over, shooing Human-Theodora out of the way. I kneel down next to the former slime so I can poke at her soul with my tendrils. It’s not shattered or broken or anything, just… cracked.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“It hurts!” the Revenant whimpers. “Vita, what’s happening? Why can’t I leave this body? Why doesn’t it have memories?”

Hmm. So she’s still lucid, even when damaged. The crack doesn’t look very deep, but the question is ‘why did the soul crack at all?’ A physical blow shouldn’t have affected an intangible thing like a soul, right?

“You’re not a slime anymore,” I tell her. “You’re undead. Now shush, I’m investigating.”

I carefully pull the soul out of the corpse, the many blood-vessel-like growths that are spread across the body detaching bit by bit, staying connected to the soul’s core as I remove it. They remind me of my tendrils a little, but much thinner and more interconnected; more like a lattice of vines, really. These structures seem to exert force on the inside of the body, allowing the Revenants to move without ever using their muscles. I hold out the soul towards Human-Theodora.

“Can you see or touch what I’m holding?” I ask.

She reaches out, her own hand passing right through the soul.

“I see nothing,” she answers promptly.

I nod. So soul-contact isn’t some property of Revenants. I put the soul back inside the body, the Slime-Theodora waking up with a terrified gasp soon afterwards. What could it be? How is the soul being touched…? I absently scratch an itch with one of my tendrils, and funnily enough that’s how I figure it out. I grab and hold that tentacle, then yank.

“Ow!” I yelp. Everyone gives me a weird look, but I don’t care. I get it now! Since the soul is exerting force on the body to move it, the body can still exert force on the soul as well. The vine-lattice of soul stuff that grows inside a Revenant’s body can be damaged or torn if the parts of the body it’s attached to are damaged or torn. So with enough force…

“...Your souls might shatter if you get hurt too bad,” I announce. “I won’t be able to bring you back from that, so no more fighting.”

Human-Theodora raises a shaky finger in Slime-Theodora’s direction.

“T-this thing—”

“Controlled your body and thereby mentally tortured you for days, I know,” I answer, cutting her off. “Which is why I let you beat the shit out of her. Well, congrats, you cracked her soul. That’s going to hurt like a bitch and I don’t know how to fix it. So we’re done now, okay? You don’t have to like each other, but no more fighting.”

She scowls, but nods. Turning her head, she tries to spit on Slime-Theodora, though to her obvious irritation she doesn’t have saliva.

“...Right. Well, with that out of the way, I’d like to brief everyone as to what we’re actually doing here,” Penelope announces, stepping in. “We’re not only blaspheming for the fun of it. This is our immortality research facility. While pure biomancy-based immortality should be possible, the cooperation of metamancers such as yourselves— and potentially animancers, once we start to reverse-engineer Vita’s abilities— should speed up the process dramatically.”

“My personal goals include the ability to make living, artificial bodies to put souls in as well,” I add. “It’s the best way I can think of to help the Nawra. I, uh, have their souls inside me, by the way. Nice and safe.”

Penelope nods, while Slime-Theodora’s eyes go wide.

“One will help lead to the other, I think,” Penelope agrees. “It should be invigorating research, not to mention research I hope will uplift our people and our country to ever-greater prosperity. I have faith that our collection of magical genius here—”

“And me!” Vitamin adds.

“—should be up to the task.”

“W-wait. Hold on,” Slime-Theodora stammers. “I feel like I’m missing a lot of context. I’m dead? Vita is a necromancer? And you’re… are you even a Nawra?”

“I am not,” Penelope answers with a smile. “And never was, from the moment you met me. Vita is the same.”

Her eyes go even wider.

“B-but Vita… you still want to help us?”

The devotion radiating from her eyes as she stares at me is delicious. At least Slime-Theodora is easy. ...No, wait. I should be disturbed at how easy. She’s conveniently forgetting I killed her and her whole family in the first place. My shard within her pulses, filtering and feeding feelings to the woman who has all the memories of her much more willful counterpart, but none of the experience that gives her the self-control to question. Although, since I have them both here…

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“I do. First order of business, though: Theodora.”

Both Theodoras tilt their head at me, awaiting command. I point at the former slime in the old man’s body.

“You need a new name. Sorry. Human-Theodora had it first, and it’ll be confusing otherwise. You wanna be Theodore? We kinda put you in a man.”

“Eegh, no,” she answers, shuddering. “I’m a woman, thank you. Wrinkly, cold dick or otherwise.”

Penelope snorts with amusement as I wince. How… graphic. Still, I kinda figured she’d feel that way, for some reason.

“Okay. How about Thea? Dora?”

“I’ve always been partial to the name Margarete, actually,” she answers, thumb and forefinger on her chin.

“Wh- I’ve always been partial to that name!” Theodora snaps.

“Yes, imagine that,” Margarete replies, smirking a little.

I chuckle, shaking my head. Ah, Nawra.

“Right, well. Theodora and Margarete, it’s good to officially meet you. What do you two think our first step should be?”

They glance at each other, and after only a brief pause they answer at the same time.

“Metal.”

Metal, huh? I guess it makes sense. It’s some kind of mana gatherer and amplifier, and we’re here to do lots of big magic.

“That’s… going to be difficult,” Penelope murmurs. “I’ve set all this up to be inconspicuous so far, but if I even try to buy metal, we’re instantly going to be under scrutiny. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but…”

“But we have three Revenants and an animancer in the basement,” I finish. “Yeah, that’s not ideal. What do we need it for?”

“Ironically, to hide the three Revenants and the animancer in the basement,” Theodora answers.

“We’ll have to continually reapply the masking enchantments since they’re not metallically anchored, and any mistakes during that process could temporarily disable them,” Margarete continues. “Which wouldn’t be an instant death sentence, but…”

“...The frequency at which we’ll be doing this means that eventually, someone will notice,” Theodora finishes, glaring at her counterpart.

I nod, frowning. That does seem pretty important.

“Can’t grandma help?” Vitamin asks, staring up at me with her head tilted. Straight black hair frames her hollow cheeks in a way that I’ve seen way too many times before. The poor girl she’s wearing was almost a skeleton before she died. Still, I can’t help but grin when she calls Lyn ‘grandma.’ I’ve no doubt she’s doing it on purpose.

“Well, I don’t know a better way to get illegal metal than Lyn the Metal Thief,” I agree. “We’ll have to see if she can safely slip us some.”

“I wish Melik were here,” Theodora grumbles. “Wait, you didn’t tell the Templars about his talent, did you?”

“We didn’t, no,” I confirm. “Is that how you got all the metal for your tattoos? He found it?”

She nods. Interesting. Well, he’s seven days and change away, so we’ll call him a solid plan B.

“I guess I’m heading back home, then. ...After I change into my armor.”

Penelope nods, fishing some kind of round token out from between her breasts and handing it to me.

“Head back to the bathhouse and give them this, they’ll return both our old outfits to you. Would you be a dear and drop mine off at the hunter’s guild?”

I accept the token, shrugging. I need to go back there to change and store this weird dress anyway.

“Are they even going to let me back into rich bitch land?” I ask.

“They will let you into the central city with that token, yes. Say you’re a servant for House Erebus if questioned, but looking as beautiful as you do they’re unlikely to find fault with you.”

I feel a bit of flushing in my cheeks.

“Uh…? Why does that matter?”

Penelope shrugs.

“Because that’s the way the world works. We talked about this. Now go on and quit staring at me like that. It’s just a compliment.”

It’s certainly not the kind of compliment I was expecting, though. People have traditionally had zero cause to appreciate my appearance, being a half-starved gremlin and all. I’ve occasionally been called ‘cute’ after getting a bit more meat on my bones, but never ‘beautiful.’

Vitamin sniggers at me, hand over her mouth to cover her incorrigible grin.

“Love you, mom! Tell grandma and grandpa I said hi!”

Damnit. I’ve spent ages trying to get people to not treat me as a kid, but now I feel like I’m being treated as way too old! I shuffle out in a hurry, Penelope immediately starting a massively nerdy conversation with the metamancer twins behind me. I quickly make my way to rich bitch land, avoiding eye contact with as many people as possible. Walking around in this dress is making me way more self-conscious when I’m alone than when I had Penelope next to me to steal all the attention. I give the token to the bathhouse staff as instructed, carrying our armor out in tendril-supported arms. Man, everything is easier when I can bolster my body like this. Looking busy and walking fast seems like enough of a reason for people to avoid bothering me, and eventually I’m back at the guild, heading upstairs to my shared room.

“Vita! Hey! Where have you— woah-ho! What are you wearing, girl?”

“Hey, Norah,” I respond, walking in to drop the armor on my bed for sorting. “Sorry to dump the mission report on you and the boys.”

“Oh, you better be sorry if you went to the baths without me! I’m hurt, Vita! Truly, I am!”

The dark-skinned woman’s grin indicates she may not actually be that hurt, as she walks over to me in her usual white undershorts and tank top.

“Yeah,” I murmur. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you… somehow. Later. It wasn’t really all fun and games, though.”

“How are the luxurious bathhouses not all fun and games?” she asks, grabbing some of Penelope’s armor and helping me put it away.

“Penelope basically… bought me? I think? I’m apparently a slave, and I had to go meet her fiancé. A bunch of shit with the Templars happened on our not-really-that-secret mission to Litia, and… yeah.”

Norah tilts her head, scowling.

“Wow. That’s… a slave? Really? Can’t you just tell her to fuck off?”

“Without the protection of a noble house mucking up their ability to press an investigation, I’ll get framed for some big crime. A bunch of politics happened, I dunno. But I think we’re at least kinda friends now? She stuck her neck out to save me and stuff. Literally walked in front of a sword, so… I can’t really complain too much.”

Finished with Penelope’s stuff, I start to peel my dress off, followed quickly by the fucking bra. The padding on my armor is just fine, damnit! I start re-dressing for combat. The slums may not be as dangerous as outside the walls, but I’m not going to be the idiot that thinks that means they’re safe. ...Although in truth, I have very little to fear from most people there.

“Still, Vita… that’s pretty wild. You’ll have to tell me the long version of that story sometime. I bet you’re happy to get out of the dress, at least.”

“Extremely,” I agree. “Not being in armor just makes me nervous. If a person has the option to wear it, why wouldn’t they?”

Norah just chuckles, shaking her head.

“Not for any reason I suspect you care about, but most people have different priorities from you. You’re the odd duck out, Vita. Still, I find it hard to believe the Templars would try to frame you for something. They’re super honorable.”

I shrug. As much of an asshole Gladra was, the truth is that I probably did cause that perception event. While I think it’s absurd to kill me over that— I’m just going to stay away from the damn edge, it’s not that hard— I can see the Templars’ logic, at least. That tentacle…

I shake my head, strapping on the last of my armor and securing my knives and spear. I’ve started carrying two knives lately, to have a backup for my backup. I have a new spear as well, to replace the one that Slimus tossed off the island trying to kill Penelope. A long shaft of shaped and sharpened chitin, the weapon is sturdy and apparently quite expensive. A substantial improvement from my last one.

Finally, I dig into my bed and retrieve Rosco, giving him a massive squeeze before securing him once again. Ah, still safe and sound.

“Welp, see ya, Norah,” I say, nodding to my teammate.

“Leaving already? A slave’s life is busy, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I exit the Hunter’s guild again, setting out to go visit my family for the second time today. Geez, I’m so tired. I still haven’t gotten a proper rest from our last mission, but today is a damn long one and even after the tail end of our excursion this morning there’s still another nine hours before Needlestone passes over for a brief nighttime. Still, I have a stock of small monster souls from our fights in the forest. They’re little more than cheap snacks to me now, but they’re still damn tasty and they help keep me awake.

...I suppose, since I’m going home, I may as well buy them food again.

A collection of meals later, I make my way through the back alleys of the city, avoiding the pleading gazes of dozens of beggars. They aren’t dying, they don’t need me. When I make it home, however, I’m annoyed to find I don’t feel Lyn or Rowan’s souls at the shack. The kids rush out to meet me, and I ask one of them (uh, Normal? No, right, his name is Norman.) where the dynamic duo is.

“Lyn and Rowan are out with the Drakens again,” Norman answers, picking his nose. “They’re not around a lot anymore.”

I scowl.

“No one has come by to bother you guys while they’re away, have they?”

Norman shrugs.

“Sometimes. People will beat us up or steal food or whatever. We just pretend we ate it.”

My tentacles snap outward, anger flaring. Some bastards are trying to take advantage of my family?

“I’ll kill them later,” I promise.

Norman steps back.

“Um… okay,” he says. “T-Thanks again for the food, Vita.”

“No problem,” I answer through clenched teeth, turning around to head out. I’ll return in a bit, maybe tonight when at least Rowan is all but sure to be around. I also make a note to remember every soul around my home. When I’m not so exhausted, I’ll find the assholes that are apparently beating up kids.

I don’t have to put up with shit like that anymore, so I’m not going to.

Soon enough, however, I notice two familiar souls heading my way as I return to the guild. Squigs and Frigs. I change my route and they follow. Well, fine, if they’re going to be annoying, I may as well find out what they want to extort from me today. Changing my course again, I walk right towards them.

“Vita!” Frigs calls when we see each other, the short, fat man raising his arms welcomingly. “Just the young woman we were hoping to see! We heard you were back in town, and I’m here to tell you: the boss wants a word.”

The boss? Do they mean boss of the Drakens? Or perhaps just a boss? Ah, well. I’m down either way. I have some choice words… and I need some illegally-sourced metal anyway.

“Sure,” I answer. “Lead the way.”

Squigs and Frigs look at each other.

“Well,” Squigs comments, “that was easy.”