Chương 20: 11A. Safety Not Guaranteed

"Would it have killed him to send us somewhere safe?" Sam grumbled, keeping low. After closer inspection, he had discovered that Iris's blood calcification didn't just hold the bone javelin in place. It had created a band around her midriff, securing the entire area. As a result, he no longer worried about using the fireman's carry. The free hand proved invaluable while navigating the uneven terrain.

"Safety breeds weakness," Oros said.

"You requested distance from the Inhuman. Nothing more." Sam was in no mood to argue. He had hoped Ouroboros would send him somewhere near civilization so he could get Iris to safety. Then, he'd have the opportunity to meditate, investigate his soul space, and figure out precisely what his talent, familiar, and domains could do. Instead, he found himself in the ruins of an old town, creeping between long-abandoned vehicles, and seeking cover. A hunched humanoid figure appeared in Sam's path.

It stood as high as Sam's chest, had pallid grey skin, and no neck. Loud, alarming creaks came from the creature as it slowly turned its head, moving from side to side. The sound of loud sniffing followed. It's hunting; it got our scent. Sam gently placed Iris on the ground. He tightly grabbed the hand cannon with both hands and crept forward. There was no telling if the beast was part of a pack or alone, or what it even was.

The arms hanging from its shoulders reached all the way down to its knees, ending in giant hands with thick, bony knuckles and clawed, spidery fingers. If more like it came, Sam doubted he was in any state to fend them off alone. The sky was yellow-green. Oroboros had sent him deeper into the Abyss. He estimated they were somewhere low on Level Three or one of the higher points of Level Four. It was a surprise that the miasma didn't already have him retching.

Any creature in either region was undoubtedly stronger than an awakened who hadn't yet condensed their first star. In his current state, Sam was marginally better than a mortal. Instead of firing straight away, Sam crept up to the monster, gripping the hand cannon's barrel with both hands, and brought the grip down on its head with all the strength he could muster. The creature collapsed following a sickening crunch, thick brackish blood seeping from a deep gash on its skull. Relief washed over Sam.

He had successfully kept the noise to a minimum. If the odd troglodyte had companions, they hadn't been alerted.

"The wilds are a crucible. They will forge your mind and body. Then you can find essences to feed me."

"I get it, Oros. Now, lets shut up, look around and think." Nature had overtaken most of the town. Trees had broken through the cement pavements. Grass and bushes dotted the fractured street. The ground was clear only around a lone office block of ugly, cubical buildings.

"Are you a vestige or avatar of Ouroboros?" Sam whispered, scanning for movement. He scooped up Iris, ready to sprint for cover if necessary.

"I am an independent consciousness born of his blood and bonded to your soul," Oros replied.

"Does that mean when I die, you die?"

"The consciousness and flesh might perish, but all that I am and all that I learn will return to Father."

"In other words, you will die, and he will reclaim every bit of you that makes you you," Sam stated.

"Your attempts to spark an existential crisis will only fail and increase my disdain." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Chill the hell out." Sam paused to study the dead creature at his feet. Its eyes were huge, with barely any sign of sclera. A giant pupil sat in the center of a double-banded iris. The open, protruding maw contained circular rows of teeth. The outer sets were sharp, while the three deeper inside looked like they were for grinding.

"I'm just trying to understand what you are and your capabilities better."

"I guide—""Yes. Yes." Sam cut off his familiar.

"I know. Are you male or female?"

"I—I don't know." Oros's hesitation felt cute, but Sam kept his thoughts to himself.

"Female, I think? This body is, at least; I haven't had the time to think about it."

"Can you fight?"

"This body is weak, but it contains Law. My venom is Terminus, and my spit is Genesis."

"We'll just have to figure things out once in my soul space. First, we need somewhere safe for Iris." A rough fence stood around the entrance and parking lot. Several sections had collapsed. The area appeared lived in, but Sam saw no recent signs of habitation. By his estimate, the residents had died or fled at least six months ago.

"Could you please scout ahead? Ensure there aren't more of these things in there." Instead of answering, Oros burst from Sam's chest and slithered toward the indicated area. While stored within him, the familiar shared all of his senses. Even though Oros didn't talk, Sam could feel the telepathic link weaken the further she moved from him. The serpent zigzagged between abandoned cars, swiftly covering the distance. She disappeared through a hole in the fence, and several suspenseful minutes passed.

Even though Sam felt significantly stronger and sharper than before, he couldn't help but fidget as his anxiety levels climbed with every passing second. His eyes scanned the long-forgotten stores and eateries, looking for predatory eyes or movement.

"It's clear." Oros's words were barely audible.

"You… come…" They were no different from the unintelligible whispers Iris called the Call of the Abyss. Except now, only one feminine voice remained, and it belonged to Oros. Sam never thought he'd get to enjoy complete silence again, and now that he could, it was somewhat alarming. The whispers rarely ceased, even within the safety of Bastion's walls. He used to rely on the city's noise and chaos to drown it all out.

After making sure nothing was watching or following them, Sam jogged the short distance to the fence and used one of the many breaches to slip through. Broken wooden structures, blood, and then skeletal remains of people and horse-sized beasts littered the parking lot.

"I bet someone bit off more than they could chew and drew a pack to their base." Sam sighed, adjusting Iris on his left shoulder. He held the hand cannon comfortably in his right. It didn't feel like his strength had improved by leaps and bounds. Instead, his endurance had considerably improved. Now that he had a proper arcane sense, Sam could also tell that the hand cannon passively drew energy from the environment and its wielder. He could feel it trying to drain him even in its passive state.

The essences stood out like tiny little beacons. It took Sam a moment to feel out Oros, the telepathic link's draw guiding him. He couldn't help but imagine the battle that had ended the settlement as he walked. A couple of scenes painted vivid pictures. Sam saw a beast impaling itself on a broken spear, crushing the wielder beneath it. A bigger specimen had died with a child's skull in its mouth, somehow taking three full-grown adults with it.

On closer inspection, Sam found a thick, barbed tail, tipped with a scorpion's sting. He didn't want to meet whatever beast had broken through the fence. It was unlikely that even as an awakened with a Great Spirit, he had the strength to take on anything like that. However, Sam's newly awakened arcane sense prickled as he walked by the latter beast. A fist-sized clod of dirt called to him. He didn't question the sensation.

Instead, Sam let the hand cannon hang from the looped belt, grabbed the dried, stony chunk, and moved on. His heart ached as he saw the destruction and remains of all sizes. He found some relief when he saw cart and hoof tracks leading toward the loosely closed gate. It appeared not everyone had perished. Bastion was full of such stories. Often, people grew sick of the bureaucracy and congestion of cities and ventured into the wilds to claim a piece of land for themselves.

Awakened led such groups, protecting and guiding them. Sam rarely received news of such expeditions succeeding. If beasts and Inhumans hadn't ended them all, the rule had turned tyrannical, forcing people to flee. Then there was the miasma; many underestimated its prolonged effect, going deeper than they should and falling sick or going insane because of it. Without the potion the boss had given him, he likely would have fallen sick hours ago.