Chương 19: Chapter Eighteen

It was a valley, Bob realized almost numbly. One protected from the sand and rushing waters by a ring of stubby underwater mountains. Mountains which had, over who knows how many centuries, been slowly covered by the endless dunes. His eyes felt locked on the buildings below. Tracing the pops of color from painted walls and rooftops. The first he'd seen in what was beginning to feel like an astonishingly long time.

They appeared almost miniscule from here – what must be over a thousand feet above them – but the scope and scale of the city hidden within the dune was still staggering to behold. He turned his attention away from the buildings, towards the faraway evidence of a massive mural carved into a distant mountainside. And then to the swaths of underwater flora which swarmed around the entire valley. Its existence and vibrancy in direct contradiction to the dead wastes lingering beyond. Then he sat back.

And wondered what on earth he was going to do. The drop was immense. Including not only the height of the massive dune he'd just scaled, but also the apparently hundreds of feet of sand which had claimed the entire area around it. The only two exits to the valley were entirely subsumed. With the inner walls of the mountains also being impossible to scale, this left no escape for anything without the ability to swim. Which Bob rather notably did not have.

It was possible there were other tunnels located down below, but the chances of them not being sealed by eons of drifting sand seemed slim to none. The current which had drawn him here likely caused by some strange pressure difference created the valley's existence, rather than anything else. So why was he still staring down at it so intently? Bob actually shook himself as he pulled his body back from the cliff's edge, where he had bent out far more than he had intended, and moved back a few steps.

Forced to admit his excitement had gotten the better of him. The valley was the most beautiful thing he'd seen since his unfortunate reincarnation into this universe. Accepting that, barring the finding of some half-buried tunnel, he'd never set foot within it was nearly as painful as accepting that he hadn't found a way out in the first place. Above and around him, fish still swarmed and swam passed. Their glistening forms disappearing down the sudden drop as they made their way towards… somewhere.

And as the current whipped around him, Bob couldn't help but want to join them. To launch himself off the side of the cliff and rush his way towards the still-intact buildings lingering below. Consequences be damned. It's not like he'd be any more trapped down there than he was up here after all. Even after traveling for what might be months now, he'd yet to see any sign of an exit from this endless city. Within the valley was at least the possibility of treasure.

The only chance of it he'd so far seen in this otherwise desolate place. The only chance of him gaining any more levels. Of potentially evolving and being able to escape from this watery limbo. Though how he was going to do much better as a box was still a bit of a mystery to him. The negative thought, one he had been trying his best to repress, nearly saved him. Knocking him out of the blissful haze that had overtaken him just as he felt the sand decisively crumble out from beneath his 'feet'.

He attempted to jerk back, but found that the current which had previously lightly tugged on his tassel now seemed to have grasped onto him like an invisible hand. He was over the edge before he even realized what was happening. Nothing below him but empty water. He panicked. Jerking his body chaotically as he tried, futilely, to swim back to the cliff overhead.

The continuing pull of the current only making things worse; his movements causing him to break into a deceptively slow looking spiral as he began to plummet towards the ground below. Bob twisted and pulled at himself. Doing his best to flatten his body and attempt to use the current to enter into something of a glide. Eventually having some limited success. Though, it would better be described as 'falling sideways' than anything else.

As he managed to somewhat level out, his mind was awash with nothing but fear and self-recrimination. Intense emotions which raged through him, scattering his thoughts and blowing out what scraps of haziness still remained within his head. Haziness and perhaps, he slowly began to realize, something else. Something which, had he blood, would have caused it to freeze in his veins. Looking around, he noticed that he wasn't alone in being pulled here.

Above him he spotted dozens of smaller fish also beginning to tumble down in the current. Any attempt they made to force their way back out of the canyon seemingly met with an invisible wall of force. Only the largest specimens managing to press their way through. Not that many were making an attempt. Most appearing content to continue on. Quickly zipping past him to the city below; all seemingly rushing towards the same destination.

The dichotomy between their exuberance and the panic overtaking the fish above his head doing little to quell his own terror. It was funny. Bob had existed in this world for an objectively short period, but during that time he'd already happened upon two occasions of Skills or Traits utilizing mental control. Between 'Taunt' doing far more than just wordlessly antagonizing his enemies, and him being offered an actual 'Mind Control' Trait during his last evolution, you'd think they'd be on his mind.

And yet, in all that time, he had never once considered the possibility of being affected by such an ability himself. He could still feel it. The want to chase after the fish lingering like a scab half-pulled away from skin. The thought tenuously attached to his mind, but no longer a part of him; echoing in the background of his subconscious. The alien sensation only increased his panic, causing him to jerk his eye around, trying to spot danger before it pounced on him for once.

Not feeling any degree safer when nothing popped out immediately to attack. As he did his best to further level out his glide – having zero wish to go anywhere near ground at the moment – Bob simultaneously tried to figure out some defense against the ability should it be used on him again. Rather terrifyingly coming up empty. How do you stop yourself from making a terrible decision when you don't think it's bad? When bits of yourself are telling you it's the best idea ever, actually?

He was hoping that knowledge of its existence would at least partially stymie its ability to work, but he also wasn't holding his breath. Eventually, despite its presence still looming over him, Bob was forced to push the issue out of his mind. Having more pressing matters to attend to. Pressing matters like him quickly beginning to bleed altitude. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

While his skill evolution had granted him far more mobility in the regions around his mouth, the rest of his bag offered little in the way of equal elasticity. He flattened himself as best he could and tried to take advantage of the pulling current, but felt there was little else to do. After a few more failed attempts, he realized trying to improve anything was a lost cause. At best, any modifications he made might manage to keep himself above ground for an additional minute or so.

Probably wasting more time than he gained in the attempt. Instead, he decided to focus on the far more important issue of where he'd be landing. As he looked down below himself, despite the terror still gripping every inch of him, he was forced to accept that his view before hadn't done the valley justice. What was now laid out before him being beyond any of his expectations.

The roadways were done in an elaborate off-white mosaic, with rows beside them which may once have contained greenery now teeming with seaweed, algae and various other aquatic flora. The buildings were crafted with an elegance not seen in the ruins outside of the valley, those scattered amongst the outskirts looking more like personal mansions than businesses or public buildings. Especially given the wide swath of empty land situated around each of them.

Even as he felt the horror of his situation still pressing against his non-existent skull, Bob honestly felt like laughing. Unable to believe his luck. On either end of the spectrum. Because if he had to guess, Bob would say he'd just thrown himself into a grotto previously occupied by the fabulously wealthy. Some of their yards even had giant fountains in them, proving once and for all that underwater was not this city's intended state.

Looking around, he was forced to admit that at least one of his crazy arguments back on the clifftop was correct. If there was going to be a place to find treasure anywhere in these ruins, it was here. Unfortunately, it was also probably a great place to find a gruesome and untimely demise. It seeming unlikely that whatever was within had used a massive, broad-ranged mind control ability just to get the local passerby to come in and say 'hi'.

Though, to be fair, the longer Bob floated over the city without having some great behemoth come surging out to gulp him up, the more he was beginning to question if 'he' was actually the intended target. Schools of small fish continued to swim past him, all seeking to head deeper into the lost city. There were thousands of them. The largest being just over a foot or so long. Anything bigger apparently managing to break free of whatever force pulled them in here.

And, as he continued to glide unmolested, Bob was beginning to wonder if that was on purpose. After all, why would anything want to kill him in the first place? Or care about him at all, for that matter? Compared to a creature which could broadcast a mind control Skill for what might well be miles, he was nothing. Less than nothing, even. No. More likely whatever was down there – using that Skill – was doing so for the same reason that most creatures tend to do things. Survival. It likely wanted to eat.

And apparently tiny, foot-or-so long fishes were what was on the menu. With tiny, foot-or-so long sapient bags just happening to come along for the ride. The realization felt tenuous and crafted mostly from hope when he'd first had it. But as he continued to slowly drift towards distant rooftops unchallenged, it became a realer and more secured idea inside his head. The fear that had been pressing in all around him slowly beginning to fade away. Nothing was surging out of the ruins to feed.

There were no horrifying tendrils slowly sweeping out to snag the unwary. Instead, whatever was still broadcasting its call across the endless depths appeared content to sit and wait. Happy to let its food deliver itself right to its plate. He still didn't know what the creature was, of course. And, given how close in size he was to its prey, it was certainly still a threat. But now, at least, he felt fairly secure in the fact that he wasn't actively being hunted.

Which made a world of difference in Bob's anxiety levels. But unfortunately, didn't fix all of his problems. The controlled fish were following the flow of water further and deeper into the ruins. Past the larger, more isolated buildings and into the far denser construction nearer the valley's center. And currently, so was Bob. This was a situation he greatly wished to change; not wanting to be any closer to the source of the ability if he could help it.

Unfortunately, he only had one other direction he was capable of going at the moment. That being straight down. As Bob wrestled with the situation, his eye was drawn back down to the ground below him; trying to spot safe locations should he need to make an emergency landing. Which was when he first noticed traces of movement. Flickers in his peripheral vision which quickly disappeared when focused on. Blending into the sands choking the lost city.

At first, Bob thought it was just the fish – they were everywhere, after all – but he quickly realized they couldn't be the culprits. Their sleek, illusive forms disappeared in the water before they were even a dozen feet away from him. If he had spotted a fish down there, it certainly wasn't one of the little guys currently swarming around him. He was barely a few hundred feet from the ground at this point, the cliff he'd previously been standing on now looming at least twice that above his head.

As he continued to creep closer and closer, the flickers of movement only seemed to increase. Solidifying into, from this distance, what almost looked to be stones picking themselves up and independently wandering across the seafloor. A few moments – as well as a few dozen or so feet – later and they had begun to take on more shape. Bob letting out an internal breath of relief as the jerky motion of the little ovals beneath him triggered something in his mind and he suddenly realized what they were. Crabs.

Dozens of them within his view. All wandering casually up and down the abandoned streets of a lost city. Probably the only living things to have done so for centuries. Bob felt briefly surprised by their numbers, before realizing that this was probably a prime feeding ground for them. Whatever was using the mind control ability couldn't eat all of the fish it brought in. Or, even if it could, the 'results' of consuming that much seafood could easily feed thousands of crabs.

The things were nature's garbage disposals after all. He doubted they cared much about what form the calories came to them in. Just that they came. Their existence also happened to bode well for Bob's continued survival. If whatever monster lived here was content letting mobs of crustaceans roam throughout its territory; maybe it would also see fit to ignore a random bag scrunching his way around the place.

As Bob turned his attention back toward the buildings however, those thoughts of safety turned sour in his mind. As well as his opinion on his own ability to measure distance. Though at least that last one could be blamed on his single eye's notable lack of depth perception. The buildings he'd previously thought to be 'mansions' were now looking decidedly more like 'Manors'. Each being several stories and tens of thousands of square feet larger than he'd thought they were.

The fountains he'd spotted from above now looking less like water features and more like minor Las Vegas attractions. Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing he'd underestimated. As he turned his attention back towards where he'd spotted the 'tiny crabs', he could now see that they weren't alone. Their numbers having swollen from dozens to hundreds as previously unnoticeable crabs now came into view. Each far smaller than those he'd managed to spot earlier.

Who were now appearing decidedly menacing as their full size was put into perspective. Bob numbly watched as one of them reached out to daintily pick something out of the water with the very tip of its largest pincher. Something which he quickly realized was one of the passing fish. One of the passing foot-long fish. Bob's eye desperately span around as he searched for the tallest object in his glide range; having decided that 'the floor is lava' rules were now in effect.

Every stitch in his body screaming that he needed to get as far and as high away from those things as possible. Because crabs were nature's garbage disposal. And Bob displayed a truly unfortunate number of garbage-like characteristics. He had just set his eye on an almost turret-like tower spearing through the center of one of the larger manors within reach, when he was distracted by a dim hum beginning to echo through the water. A sound that felt both alien and familiar in the most off-putting of ways.

At first, he spun his eye about in desperate circles, thinking that he might have misjudged how unwilling the 'Boss' of this area was to come out of hiding. After a few full rotations, however, he was forced to admit he was pretty much alone in the water. He was actually beginning to get confused, even growing concerned as the sound grew louder that he was about to be hit by another natural disaster. Until he noticed something odd happening on the ground below him.

All the crabs which had previously been going about their own business scuttling down roadways and digging away at their burrows, had instead suddenly turned their attention towards him. Beady eyes following his form as it fell gently from the waters above. They made no movements. Simply held their claws in the air and stared. That, plus the fact that arthropods weren't exactly known for being 'loud' animals, initially made him hesitant to label them as the culprits.

As he got closer however, it quickly became impossible to believe anything else. Especially when the noise stopped sounding like a drone. And began instead to sound like hundreds and hundreds of tiny, little voices." Kill!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

"Kill!"

'Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.'