Chương 19: Trapped

POV: Otto The procession didn't talk above the occasional murmur, broken up by quiet sobbing from a distinct few people. He could even see the nosferian at the front, the one who'd grown close to Aaron, staring out back the way they came. Not once did it blink, look away, or move. He felt like absolute shit. It was obvious the nosferian was heartbroken- all of the aliens were, but that one in particular had known Aaron the longest.

It might've been his imagination, but he felt as though every other car around them glared at Otto and the others when they could get away with it. He hadn't seen anyone do it, but considering his eyes were downcast most of the time, that meant nothing. * Despite their fears, the Mushki never returned. Either something else had caught its attention, or… it'd taken its time killing Aaron. They collectively prayed it was the former. Hours went by, one hall going by after the other.

Even this far, the cannibals held paths that they followed; Otto dreaded the moment when they'd reach the edge of cannibal territory and be left wandering, praying to find whatever people they needed to find. But soon, he found that his fears were unfounded." HALT!" Someone commanded, and every single person collectively hit the breaks, their cars shutting off as they came to a stop.

"State your purpose!" He recognized the voice of Nicole as she responded "We're searching for someone that the cannibals called Ticks! We just escaped a cannibal camp and we're looking for a place to settle down!"

"You're a bit off missie, but close. My name is Gerard, and I am a dispatched member of the Root, or, what the cannibals call the Ticks."

"We made it?" Nicole asked, relief flooding them"Almost… but, no. You're about to enter the trap of a corrupted nosferian we've come to call Watcher. Should you go any further, you will fall victim to his web."

"Oh… then… why are you here? Guiding people away?" The voice- and only now did Otto realize how strange it was that it sounded like it was coming from all directions- said "No, you're simply lucky. We've got some people keeping an eye on any mishaps in the area, and it seems like someone strong walked into the Watcher's traps. I'm here collecting data samples to see how big a monster Watcher's gonna make this time, and maybe prepare countermeasures.

The conversation went on for another ten to fifteen minutes, Nicole asking for clarifications, until they got a better picture. Some people in the Underworld would become "Dissolute," which meant they'd lost their minds, fallen to whatever strange magic they'd managed to recover in the Underworld. Watcher was one such person, a nosferian who'd lost his mind to an ability that let him catch and corrupt people, turning them into shambling monstrosities through which he could see.

The worst, though, was if someone strong enough to fight through the monsters came by. Apparently, if you could kill some of the horrors, the Underworld would reward you with an ability of your own. And if you succeeded in forming an ability with Watcher's pieces… he would then kidnap you, and twist you into something utterly horrific, much stronger than the other, weaker victims.

Apparently, the Root had people dedicated to reading the waves of the Underworld, and they detected the moment Watcher exerted himself- indicating he was preparing to unleash another monstrosity. They were collectively horrified, and Nicole asked the question in Otto's mind too.

"So there's someone in there right now, who's getting turned into a monster?!"

"Well… it tends to take a while for Watcher to prepare, so whoever it is, they have a little bit. But when he does… hell's coming."

"Well why don't the Root send someone to rescue them?! Why are we standing around and talking?!" The voice sounded pained now.

"If only we had the people. We're too short on resources to squash all the horrific things down here, but we can try to contain them as they become issues. Watcher's a slippery one, and we just don't have the time to dedicate a team to go get him, not for how long it'd take to chase him down. Listen, ma'am, it isn't your fault that someone fought past the monsters and walked right into danger. I have the data I need. Come with me, we can go back to Root and get you all a safer place to live.

Lord knows we could use the workers…" The voice continued to console Nicole and her desire to see the person helped, but Otto's mind was already churning.

'Would Aaron have left a stranger to die?

'Would he have turned around, gone to safety, and avoided the danger?

'No, he would've leapt off the truck and charged headlong into the den of snakes.'

"I'm going in," he shouted across the procession, and many turned to look at him. He was terrified at having so much attention on him, but he didn't stutter as he said "Aaron gave his life to save us, the least we can do is pay that forward. Hey, whoever you are, how many monsters can the watcher make?"

"Uh, maybe around twenty, or thirty at a time? It'll have to be less now though, because the other person likely killed more than a few: at least four, at most ten."

"By my count, there's more than sixty of us left. We've got cars, spears, and indestructible batons. If we can't take down twenty measly monsters, what's even the point?! All they're going to be is twisted people, right? I could take a person down with a car! Aaron charged a Mushki for God's sake!

"I say, Aaron gave his life to save us. If we can save one other person… isn't that worth it? Doesn't that… mean something?" There was murmuring between them, weak at first but quickly growing in volume. Others agreed, guilt and helplessness mixing to inflame their emotions. Soon, there were shouts of people turning their bitterness into rage, calling for the blood of whatever monsters lay in the dark. They were tired of running, tired of living in fear. They felt so weak.

Now, there was something in front of them that was verifiably evil, and mob mentality flared in their hearts. They called for blood. Otto, in particular felt something else awaken inside him, and a taut strength coursed through his mind, hardening his resolve. {Beastly Pride Discovered: Pride of the Idol.} And soon, they were off, rushing into danger as they left a baffled Root worker behind, hiding in the shadows and muttering to break the silence.

"Aaron… did what? Wait, is there a Mushki in the area?! Fuck! I gotta get back and report… all of this." So consumed by their emotions were the people of Aaron's group, that they failed to consider how Aaron, actually, would have left someone behind to die. He had, after all, left Richard, his group, and the grays to the very Mushki they now spoke of. He was not nearly as perfect or good as they portrayed- and at times, he might even be called a hypocrite.

But emotions cared not for logic, and sometimes, the gleam radiating off the knight in shining armor mattered more than the scratches marring their suit. * Stolen novel; please report. POV: Aaron Releasing a shuddering breath, he felt an intense wave of vertigo wrack his body, but his Primary flared harder, suppressing it. Eyes fluttering open, he found himself hoisted in the air, overlooking the room in front of him.

To his right, dozens of humans, nosferians, and grays were halfway submerged into the glass wall, their torsos and heads were the only thing that peeked out. All of them were severely injured, and some even lethally so. One, in particular, had half his head missing- pulped. It seemed whatever had brought them there didn't completely care about them remaining alive. To his left, rows of shelves- also composed of black glass- held various trinkets.

Tiny objects like keychains, phones, some coins, a stuffed teddy bear, and…

'Hey, wait, that's my glasses case!' he realized, looking towards the silvery metallic oblong object. Each item on the shelf was neatly arranged and organized with others like it. But what took up most of his attention was neither the hostages, nor stolen items, but that which played out right before him- directly forward. On a gargantuan altar, with many steps leading up from its base, sat a massive silvery throne, multiple golden lines running through it.

Despite its grandiose appearance, it was obvious that the one who sat down in its embrace would stand up no longer. Supported by metallic arms jutting out from the throne's sides, sawblades, needles, and thin claws faced inwards towards the seat; on its armrests, metal restraints sat open, waiting for someone to place their arms between them and snap shut. Opulent as it was, the royal for this throne would be shackled, tortured, and pulled apart.

It was an object made with pure malice in mind, hatred that radiated off it in waves, echoing through the ages despite its creator and victim long gone. Even from his position strung up in the air, he felt his skin crawl looking at it. Strangely, the System appeared to respond to its presence- even before his Primary could touch it.

Rather than scan the item through interaction, the System seemingly pulled up a pre-existing record, {Place of Power - Origin of a Supreme Creator: Vastinel the Thinker} The feeling he got from the System's words was not one of indifference as it'd been the entire time he'd experienced it, the aloof logic of his Status and regular Notifications. When it displayed these words, it expressed reverence.

His eyes widened as he recalled VoN's words'Even parts of the System itself have been severed and cracked as they touch upon the Underworld, giving rise to things unusual even for this empty place.' This wasn't some random throne, but a treasured fragment of the System. {Quest Gained: Sit in the Vastinel's Throne Reward: Access to the Supremacy Stat}'Fuck that!' he shouted in his mind, and began to pull against his bindings. Looking at them, he saw that he was the only person not held by black glass.

Tied around his wrists were some kind of vine made of a reflective mirror material.

"You!" One of the male survivors hissed, "Stop thrashing, you'll bring him back. You just woke up, but you need to stay calm," he said so quietly Aaron almost couldn't hear him. While Aaron didn't ignore the man, he didn't put all his stock in the man's words either, mind racing for a way out.

"Listen, I don't know why you've been singled out, but it's clear that thing is planning to do something extra gruesome with you. We've been talking, and we might have a way to get out, maybe help-" Feeling that the vines were imbued with something magical- something like a Primary- he was hit with a spark of inspiration. Forcibly surging Onward Evermore, a layer of gold radiating from his skin, attacking his bindings.

It wasn't immediately obvious he was doing anything, but the results began to show as he felt some of the bindings' power flake away, even if the physical structure itself didn't. His Primary wasn't absorbing it as he would a fragment or Secondary, he was breaking through the influence of a material itself- like the steel poles of the cannibal camp. The person speaking cut off their words as his hands started to glow, likely seeing the determination on his face.

"Or you can do that," the man mumbled, and Aaron finally looked at him. Whispering in the same low tone, Aaron said "Sorry, I'm not one to sit still. What's going on?" The man nodded.

"Good, if you have a way out, use it, and run for the fucking hills. Honestly though? I've got no fucking idea man. Was just looking at one of those odd warped spots, back on Earth, then boom, i'm in a dark cave with magic and monsters, being lectured to by a voice in my head.

"Me and my people walked around for a bit, found some random caches of food and water just… sitting there… and then when we saw grass, we got a bit excited. Rushed in, saw the twisted monster, and ran" his face drooped.

"We didn't make it two feet before an army of those bat people dropped from the ceiling. Why they didn't attack us til we started running I can't be sure, but after that…" He looked to his left, and Aaron saw a woman who was gasping weakly, but unconscious.

"Now we're here. Just based on the normal looking nosferians and grays, I already know we're gonna get turned into monsters too, but it seems the silvery bat monster can only take one person at a time. Haven't seen any humans get taken, but it's only a matter of time.

"So, we've started discussing with everyone who comes in. Dunno if you know, but every group's got something different, and some of the aliens all get something even more unique… but things tend to be roundabout. Nothing immediately dangerous, what about you?" Aaron shook his head.

"Not at first, but when my abilities are paired with with my fea-" he froze.

"My feather. Where's my feather?" he said with all the emotion he could while remaining quiet.

"That crystal feather almost as tall as me? The twisted nosferian's got it. He was staring at it the entire time he strung you up. What's special about it?" He absolutely hated that something else was using his feather. He would tear that monster apart.

"It's almost indestructible and cuts through anything," Aaron responded, and the man grimaced.

"Bad news to have in that thing's hands."

"Yes, which is why I'm going to tear it from him. What's he like? Also, where's the entrance?" The man sighed, "Good luck. Thing's fifteen feet tall and a tricky bastard. Almost never attacks head-on, but he's fast as shit and if he can kick you, you're out. Usually though, he sends monsters to swarm. That's what happened to most of us. Also, the entrance is behind you, you just can't see it." Aaron nodded, "Thanks. How long until you all get out?"

"Imma be honest man? Unlikely. Our goal kind of hinges on the grays figuring out the chemical composition of our surroundings but I'm doubtful. I think it's magic." One of the aliens in question muttered "I'd like to see you escape. And magic doesn't exist, we've studied extensively…" The man sighed, "I would try, if I had magic, but unlike everyone else, I came here with nothing. Nobody in my group had anything, not even something useless, and we have no Status," he said mournfully.

"It's not magic. If only we can figure it out," the alien said angrily, but he still had no concrete evidence Aaron frowned,'And I thought my start was rough. To start with nothing? I wonder why it'd do that to them…' Abruptly, one person's head snapped up.

"He's coming back!" Aaron focused on his Primary, pulling it back into his body and under his hands. He still pressed it against the bindings, but only from the inside, so there was no obvious external light. Giving it a slight tug, he knew it'd be a while yet before the reflective material was weak enough for him to break out of. Behind him, he heard a more gruff kind of squeak, like a nosferian with a sore throat. Following that was… a grassy rustling.

After all, the grass and flowers in this room were denser and taller than anywhere else.

'Ah, so it was him who'd been following me… but why, and how?' He'd expected the twisted nosferian to walk from below and gaze up at him, or to perhaps walk next to him, considering it was so tall. He didn't expect it to… skitter next to his head, staring at him from one foot away. The blood drained from his face, but rather than scream, he froze, giving him the appearance of a calm demeanor. This nosferian, as the stranger said, was a very silvery color, partially reflective as his bindings were.

Its eyes were, proportionally, like that of a fly, bulging out of its head, each mere centimeters from his head, while its jaw was… nonexistent. The entire lower half of its face was pulled inwards to his skull, giving it a misshapen appearance. It stared at him silently for several seconds, and he returned the look, not entirely sure what else to do.

"Now just how do you work?" it squeaked out, and his vision blurred as he realized that he understood it.

"What?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"The others took my power in and it became a central part of who they were, but you seem to have distorted my self," it said, and he felt fingers tap at his other shoulder, but he refused to pry his eyes from this creature.

'No matter, I will pry it forth from you anyway.' Its entire body came around, and he saw that its wings and legs were partially merged to the black surface, merely gliding through. In its right hand, he saw his crystal blade, and he felt his face contort into a look of pure rage. He was half-tempted to shoot his whip out and try to grab it, but he'd already been told that this nosferian was incredibly fast.

Even if he managed to take it, the nosferian would simply snatch it back before Aaron could cut his bindings. The nosferian paused at his expression, tilted its head to the sword then looking back at him.

'Do not worry, once you've done all that I require, once you've given me the power you take from the throne, you will have your sword.' Its open hand lifted towards his face, not touching him just yet.

'You need only give in.' The nosferian's fingers curled around his head, and Aaron felt agony wrack his body.