Chapter 52: [Bonus Chapter] It’s Candy! (2)
At times, Kestrel felt her logical reasoning was far less acute than her instinct. Before she could understand what was happening, her feet were already in motion. Behind her, a thick ink-like darkness seeped from all directions, slowly tainting the pristine white arms of the Backbone a filthy black.
Grasping the "key", Kestrel ran without a backward glance.
She knew countless black hands were pursuing her from behind. Soft, infinitely stretchable black hands, one by one falling off the gigantic pillar. Initially, they moved sluggishly, as if just waking from a deep slumber, but quickly they gained speed, sweeping across the ground, and scrambling up the stairs, pursuing her like a tide.
They were laughing, each one scampering and chortling gleefully, exuding endless joy.
Kestrel’s tendrils could feel their genuine and intense emotions. The robust and pure desire to capture her, to possess her, to keep her nearby was incredibly intense and pure.
Kestrel ran swiftly. She felt her feet pounding, her blood rushing, her heart pounding like a drum. She remembered she seemed to have also experienced this rapid heartbeat and sensation of flight somewhere in her early youth.
Kestrel’s additional tendrils were gradually awakening from their hidden crevices. They surged out from behind her, clashing with the foremost black arms in hot pursuit.
She felt pain, realizing that her tendrils were being injured, but they were also inflicting damage on their adversaries. Chaotic, indescribable fragments of memories tangled within, sporadically and disjointedly seeping into Kestrel’s consciousness.
Kestrel was in full sprint, her feet pounding the spiral staircase. Behind her, a swelling wave of darkness was on her tail, its intense desire to seize her, to engulf her, apparent.
Finally, a glimmer of light appeared before her. The exit, the stark white door, was still wide open.
Kestrel felt the black hands at her back, almost touching her head, almost reaching her shoulders.
With a powerful leap, she rolled towards the radiant gap and out.
Her vision blurred, dust swirling around, everything becoming illuminated.
She had finally escaped.
Catching her breath, Kestrel realized she had tumbled onto the ground, still clutching the "key" in the form of a hand. The pure white door was slowly closing before her eyes, filled with countless black hands squirming reluctantly, seemingly unable to break free.
Fortunately, she was near enough to the door, and she had run just in time. She had managed to tumble out of the pure white door, right before the tide of black hands could grasp her.
Kestrel lay on the ground, observing the door that had completely closed, licking her lips, feeling rather exhilarated.
The black hands were trapped. Kestrel assumed they might have other exits, but at least for now, she had triumphed.
Most of the psychic incarnations Kestrel had encountered previously were relatively small, endearing entities. They somewhat evoked a sense of loneliness in Kestrel and failed to stir much interest—except for the boundless deep sea and the gigantic orca within it.
This was the first time Kestrel had encountered a psychic incarnation larger and mightier than hers. And she had made it, managing to infiltrate and escape its dominion.
In the moment of her close combat with the black arms, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a more expansive and majestic world, realizing the existence of even broader spectrums in this universe.
"I will grow stronger in the future," Kestrel thought.
Her tendrils were buzzing:
"Too thrilling!"
"They seemed like they wanted to devour us."
"What? I thought I wanted to devour them."
"You always want to eat everything."
"I wonder if I’d burst from overeating."
"Don’t rest, we’re not safe yet."
The black arms didn’t pursue her out, but a harsh alarm rang throughout the colossal palace.
"Alarm! Alarm!"
"Someone has stolen the Queen’s arm."
"Alarm! Alarm!"
"Someone has stolen Her Majesty’s arm."
So "she" was Her Majesty the Queen? I had assumed she was a prisoner confined within a pillar.
Numerous metallic-head mutants appeared, their single eyes atop their heads flashing with red light, fervently searching the garden and buildings.
The massive palace was enveloped with dense gem plants and filled with countless rooms and platforms.
Kestrel, holding a bag containing "Her Majesty’s arm," crawled out from the crystalline leaves of a small bush and sneaked into a building teeming with intersecting corridors.
"We must catch the thief!"
"She hurt Her Majesty."
A fully equipped team of guards hurried by in the corridor.
Kestrel tucked herself away behind a pillar to avoid them.
Metal guards like these were everywhere, both upstairs and downstairs. They were swift, fierce, and wholly committed to capturing the "thief."
Kestrel had several close calls, feeling at times that she might not make it out.
Since her childhood, Kestrel had come to understand that not everything goes as planned, no matter how hard you try. Like when she was a kid, she didn’t enjoy life in the Tower but could only sneak out temporarily, always having to return in the end.
Similarly, despite her earnest attempts to be perceived as a normal person, others still viewed her as a weirdo, their feelings towards her filled with hidden revulsion.
Kestrel ran, ducking and hiding, with alarms from her tendrils warning her of enemies on all sides—left, right, up, down, everywhere.
"What will happen if I’m caught and imprisoned here?" Kestrel had considered this.
Perhaps she would be handed over to those black arms and become a mutant—but luckily, she didn’t mind. It didn’t matter where you lived, life was the same—just a twinge of regret that after such danger and peril, she should be able to feel some fear like a regular person.
Kestrel didn’t know what fear felt like. She hoped that while she was still human, she could experience more typical human emotions.
Kestrel felt hunger gnawing at her again, a burning sensation in her stomach that made it hard for her to summon her strength.
Exhausting mental energy always made the body crave food.
"I’m weak," thought Kestrel.
Another team of guards was nearing, rounding the corner quickly.
Suddenly, an arm stretched out from behind her, clamping her mouth shut and yanking her back. The hand was large, clad in black gloves.
Kestrel didn’t resist. Without turning her head, her tendrils had recognized who the person was. The weary tendrils even began to inch towards him.
When the partially corroded metallic head peeked around the corner, Kestrel was pulled by the man behind her into a room filled with clutter.
The door was gently shut, and the man dressed in a tight battle suit turned around, his fingers encased in gloves making a hushing gesture.
It was Ren.
Kestrel didn’t know how he managed to locate Kestrel in such a massive palace where even so many mutants couldn’t find her.
Ren leaned against the door, listening intently, until the footsteps of the metal-headed guards had completely faded away, only then did he turn to face Kestrel fully.
"You..." Ren began to say to Kestrel.
The mutant fishbone on his head had disappeared. Now, clad in a black, form-fitting combat suit, he seemed taller, with a sturdy core muscle strength.
Ren’s voice was low, but there was a slight awkwardness on his face.
"What happened to?" He finally asked, very delicately.
She thought he would ask about the key first, but he was actually asking about a tendril.
A tendril sprouted from the ground, revealing itself, and weakly coiled around Ren’s upright leg.
Kestrel was crouching on the ground, devoid of energy.
She didn’t really want to tend to the psychic incarnations trying to emerge from the ground one by one, but she had to suppress them.
"Do you have any food? I’m hungry," she asked without much hope.
She had heard that alphas had remarkable physical stamina. They could even survive several days without food while on undercover assignments.
Ren was dressed in a tight tactical suit, equipped with a knife, firearms, ammunition, and an array of combat supplies. It didn’t seem like he would be carrying any food.
Unexpectedly, however, Ren reached into his pocket and pulled out two candies wrapped in tin foil.
With his glove-covered fingers, he offered the tiny, delicate candies to Kestrel.
"First, boost your sugar levels," he said, "I’ll figure out the rest."
Then he leaned towards the room’s entrance to listen to the noises outside, without attempting to remove the tendril attached to his leg.
Kestrel unwrapped a candy, placed it in her mouth, and rolled it around on her tongue.
A very rich sweetness.
"It’s candy!"
"So sweet."
"I feel a little bit of energy coming back."
"Little Fish is the best."
"I always said that."
"Way more dependable than that Mr. Pyramid."
"How did he know I like sweets?"
"Move aside, let me get on him."
