Chapter 52: Chapter 52
Chapter Context: We are shown the situation on Marcus’s POV
Goal: It has been two days and Marcus’s cohort are trying to stay of the radar of who ever is after them.
Conflict: Hiding at the roof of the mall, they encounter and battle a Hushfeather Owl.
Turning Point: After a long battle is held the Hushfeather retreats after inflicting major injuries to the cohort.
Outcome: With almost everyone injured Marcus and one other venture into the mall to look for medication.
Emotional Note: Despair.
The field was clear and still, fresh of blood and death. Smoke rose in the distance, a sign of destruction.
Bodies here lay unmovingly, their fate whispering a forgotten redemption.
A little creature quietly moved through the corpses, hiding in plain sight, it maintained its identity as the master of camouflage. But as this unseen creature went on with its business something of marvel occured.
Gently a swirl of invisible energy erupted from the direct center of the field, then a huge pressure akin to the hitting of a sledgehammer on an anvil, hit that direct center.
Time came to a halt, from the fallen bodies of mortals, billions to trillions to infinite dots of whitish particles escaped to the ether, forming a huge moon sized transparent orb as it gathered.
In the orb, the particles made human outlines of primitive men bashing each other with clubs of stone.
Hoplite ranks clashing in phalanx, Roman legions grinding foes beneath there standards. Crusaders screaming oaths at Saracen blades. Gunpowder wars raining metal and fire across cities.
Another wave of pressure fell on the field, the particles dispersed and circled the globe before returning to the same spot, spinning like a violent cyclone.
A cyclone of these infinite whitish particles.
At the bottom middle of the cyclone, a human figure was formed, not a silhouette but a singular thick form with no features.
The benign cyclone shank, each particle sucked into the humanoid shape. When it ended, only the figure remained standing.
The particles slowly turned into human cells, after a skeletal frame was fabricated instantly. With all the particles turning into cells, those cells formed tissues.
Tissues made organs, that could also be said for organs to system, the muscle then proceed to cover everything, lastly it was all sealed up by a pale white skin.
With that an orange haired boy dropped to the ground, as young as seventeen, an athletic yet muscular body and an explicitly perfect facial features which could capture the attention of Gods and beings above.
He stayed unconsciously still momentarily, before his lips moved and his teeth chattered. The freezing winds blew past his nude body and he coughed in cold.
Slowly he opened his amber eyes, he rose steadily from the earth, surveying the brand new world around him.
Standing he studied the art work humans create with themselves. He crouched to a boy his size, he lifted the boy’s arm and left it, all to watch it fall and rise no more.
Opening the boy’s eyes, it was lifelessly glassy, he found a deep injury which bore through the boy’s throat. While still studying the wind blew causing him to shiver.
Quickly he instinctively took of the boy’s apparel and donned it, the cold chainmail armor felt cold against his skin, he felt extremely uncomfortable.
It pricked and poked his flesh drawing blood, he quickly took them off and took of the fabrics and leather armouring of a barbarian.
Mimicking the way he took it off, he used the same pattern to don the barbarian’s fabrics, that one felt more comfortable, however he was intrigued by the chainmail and took it.
Wearing the armour wasn’t easy but he did it by see and do, as he sat to strap the bronze greaves to his feet, he caught something move.
Observing keenly, he kept wearing the greaves, some of the bodies shifted out of the way and limbs were thrown out of the way, it came towards him, then turned and moved away.
Curious he followed the movements, when it stopped he carried out the bodies shielding it and revealing a feline, it immediately grawled at him.
Its sounds were a bit a muffled as it’s mouth was stuffed with mortal flesh, the boy moved towards it to touch it but it snapped at him then dashed at the opposite direction.
Trying to catch it, the boy tripped on a corpse, by the time he recovered it was gone, however his eyes found something better.
Stabbed into a corpse was a blade which glittered under the sun, he remembers seeing this but didn’t pay much attention as the Jaguar cub took his focus.
Walking on top of fresh corpse, he reached out and grabbed the alien tool, drawing it out of the body causing blood to erupt from the body.
Awed by the display, he stabbed the sword back into the body again and again.
Minutes later he was gathering weapons which caught his attention, shields, warhammers, battle axes, javelins, spears, he piled them up in a cleared space.
[ Techniques acquired : Omni-plunder, Omni-absorb ]
His pile vanished after this prompt appeared before him and another was replaced it, it was filled with rows and columns. In the first row was labeled in symbols he couldn’t comprehend, it had small icons of the weapons he had stolen.
Think of his treasure, a blade appeared in his hand, he wished to go back and it did. The sun had begun to set, mesmerized he stopped at looked at its beauty.
Suddenly his abdomen grumbled and he fell to the ground in pain, he lay supine and pounded on his abdomen with his fist hoping to quell the pain, unfortunately it didn’t.
The uncomfortable sensation spread through his body weakening him and causing him to groan in pain.
Moment felt like hours to him, a loud noise soon blared to his hearing adding salt to his injury, it reoccurred persistently.
Annoyed he sprang to his feet in search of the noise source, to his imminent surprise it was a flock of huge birds which circled something he couldn’t see from his point of view.
He picked a rock laying nearby and hurled it at them, they scattered and regrouped, their cries shrieked higher. He picked more stones and repeated the process but nothing changed.
By now veins were popping on his head and he dashed at the unfrightened flock picking up a sword at he was within their range. He began slicing up every bird he could reach.
Then they finally dispersed, a total of six huge birds dead, all almost his size and height.
Panting, he then realized that they were after the cub he had seen earlier, he turned away from it and dropped his sword.
[ Jaguarian Cleaver Likeness : 60% ]
It looked at him with great reference, however the boy cared less.
Ignoring everything around him, he pounced on a dead bird and bit into it instinctively, his mouth was soon filled with feathers raw flesh and soggy blood.
He gagged, spat, retched at he primal horror of his meal. Subconsciously he shifted it to the cub who accepted it with joy.
[ A bond has been formed with a Primordial Beast : Tyrant Jaguarian Cleaver ]
[ You Have Received Its Bloodline ]
[ Bloodlines : 1/∞ ]
Shinning upon the earth with all it’s glory was the silver moon, and at an eerie distance, the Veiled world glowed. This combination made night time nearly as bright as day.
By now the strong and willing to continue existing had adapted to these changes, it was the twenty first day after all. However they were a few exceptions, those who ran on luck.
Squatting at the very edge of the building’s roof was a handsome muscular boy of seventeen, his bloody face lay grim as thoughts ran through his mind.
His eyes were wide open, his iris refusing to shudder, his eyelids refusing to blink. With a dagger in his hands and the cool breeze blowing across his face, he watched.
Sounds of laughter and chattering echoed through the cold night, causing the lose of serenity. The boy clenched his fists gritting his teeth in annoyance.
"Marcus..., Marcus, Your awfully close to the edge, come sit close to the fire." A female voice called out, but he didn’t reply. After some moments he rose and turned away from the edge.
Directly in front of him was a girl about his age looking at him with deep sorrow in her eyes. "You don’t have to worry about me Martha, I was just thinking of a way to get us all out." He said smiling for the first time as he touched her face.
At a little distance was a campfire and around it were seven people, in other words Marcus’s current responsibility. Or so he told himself.
Sitting at the fire, he looked at the people around him and sighed. "I am not sure these people have any intention to leave."
Hearing this everyone in the group lowered their heads. "I told myself I wouldn’t break your spirits, but it would cause more harm to leave you all in the dark." He began in a sorrowful tone.
"Tomorrow makes it the sixth day after we sent off Tim and Sera, no news, our food supplies have been gone two days ago. The bitting cold at night time and uncertainty of survival under an unveiled sun.
Our chances have been reduced to nearly ten percent if we remain here, lower if we confront those people." He cough at the last sentence and looked at all the members of his cohort.
"At this stage all we can hope for is a miracle. Sending Tim and Sera who had the highest chances of survival amongst us was our only hope..., And now we can’t afford another." Marcus said ending his analysis.
