Chương 18: 10A. The Endless Cycle

Adrenaline continued to course through Sam's system, helping him power through the growing discomfort. His entire body ached, and the joint pain from firing the hand cannon had significantly worsened. Descending to the ground floor while carrying Iris left him even sweatier; IEF barely helped. Sam spat blood as he coughed and wheezed. Firing the weapon had taxed his body significantly more than expected. A fresh problem arose when he approached the platform entrance. There were no stairs, only escalators.

Sam was surprised to find them functional. The repeated decay and regeneration made them a death trap. Sam feared falling into the machinery or dropping Iris into it. Several multicolored snakes also seemed to slither among them. Much to his relief, none came for them or the essences and talent seeds he carried.

"This is going to be terrifying, Iris," Sam said. Talking to her unconscious form kept him sane and in control. He moved her into a fireman's carry, careful not to let his shoulder push on the spike. Then he climbed onto the smooth metal surface beside the escalator, just as it began to regenerate.

"Hold on!" Gravity took over. Sam slid down the escalator's side, heart pounding as the regeneration phase ended and decay began. He tried to remain as flat as possible so air resistance didn't slow him down. Injury inevitably awaited him on landing, but there was no two ways around it. He was going to get hurt either way. And he preferred the odds of a bad landing to getting minced by machinery. Sam slid off the metal at terminal velocity.

He landed on his feet and stumbled forward, desperately trying to maintain balance. Sam failed. He stumbled, rotated, and moved Iris so he didn't fall on top of her. Much to Sam's surprise, he didn't land on the floor but felt a much softer, almost fleshy surface under his back. He lay motionless for a moment, waiting for the end. Instead, the cushion pushed him upright. Sam carefully placed Iris on the ground, glad he hadn't made things worse, not that he could tell.

His eyes widened when he finally saw his savior. It was a serpent. At its thinnest, the creature was wider than his shoulders. Large, dark scales shifted among shades of green, blue, and violet, covering its giant body. Thick, triangular dorsal plates grew from its spine. Decay was fastest beneath and immediately around its body. Rails rusted and disintegrated before the metal regrew new and shiny, before the effects of time rapidly assaulted them. The same happened to the tiles covering the walls.

They went from white to yellow, cracked and crumbled, before starting over again.

"You're a Great Spirit," Sam gasped, basking in the glory and power radiating across the platforms. He was too exhausted for fear; only wonder remained. The serpent remained in constant motion, moving from one wall to another. It looped when it met a wall and crossed over itself in the middle of the tracks before doing so again at the opposite wall. The movement was smooth, hypnotic, and calming. Sam almost lost himself for a moment watching the spirit move across the breadth of the station.

Long whiskers hung from its head; the bristles above its eyes resembled eyebrows, making it look more like an eastern dragon than a snake.

"Do you recognize me, child?" The words echoed from all around Sam, reverberating through the ground, walls, ceiling, and the rails. All of which rapidly decayed and regenerated. Then he realized the cycle was synchronized to the serpent's movements. Regeneration began when it reached one wall and looked around. Decay followed when it did the same at the opposite.

"You're—""Incorrect." The spirit's voice was deep and radiated terrifying finality, but it also carried an undeniable comforting calm.

"I am neither Life. Nor am I Death. I am not Time. I am not Space. I am merely LAW. All has a Beginning. All must End." Stolen novel; please report. Recognition came when Sam saw what the spirit held in her titanic jaws: its tail. Dark blood that refused to hold a stable color, much like its scales, dripped from the wound, collecting on the ground. The serpent's underside carried and spread the fluid across the platforms and scales. The cycle of decay and regeneration seemed to originate from the trail left behind.

The serpent's movements weren't random. It was endlessly looping in the shape of the infinity symbol, much like the cycle of creation and destruction. Life and death. Regeneration and decay.

"You're not the one thing on either end," Sam said. He felt a degree of familiarity with the spirit. The Great Spirit's voice was one of many that haunted him regularly.

"You're the cycle. The process. You're Oroboros."

"One name of many." Oroboros's words came from all around Sam. They carried a hint of amusement. Sam had read plenty about spirits. It was his first time meeting one up close. His studies at Trinity had taught him that most of them were intelligent. However, their communication abilities varied. Oroboros had a flair for drama and showmanship, but its words and intent seemed clear.

"You're Law, first and foremost, everything else second."

"Correct."

"And you've been calling me?"

"To all who can hear and will listen," Oroboros answered.

"To all who can comprehend and wield Law."

"So, I'm not the chosen one," Sam joked as his knees turned to jelly.

"Just the closest and most convenient schmuck." The adrenaline had left his system. All pains intensified. The blood loss left him light-headed. He knew that if things didn't work out now, he was likely to die. If not for Iris in her vulnerable state and her companions' sacrifice, he wasn't sure if he would've cared.

"What must I offer for your power?"

"Offer?" The one word made the Great Spirit's confusion clear. Its serpent face carried no obvious human expressions. Instead, the environment seemed to reflect Oroboros's thoughts, and elements of the platform momentarily fell out of the cycle before synchronizing with it again. According to Sam's studies and everything he had heard while working with or around the awakened, spirits didn't share their power for free. The cataclysm had weakened the barriers between the spirit and material realms.

Some had come to their world willingly. Others had fallen through the cracks. No one could discern their purpose for sure, but it was clear that the spirits had an interest in working with mortals and assisting them. One of Sam's favorite professors theorized that the older spirits hoped to restore the balance and end the cataclysm before restoring the barrier between realms. Most of his colleagues called him senile, believing what was broken was broken for good.

They spoke of advancement and mastering the new world's gifts. They had no hope or interest in restoring things to how they used to be. However, all factions at Trinity agreed on one point about spirits: they did nothing for free. To form a bond with a spirit and receive its power, a mortal needed to make an offering, prove themselves, or complete a trial. Afterward, it became a forever journey of give-and-take. One needed to feed their spirit or see its wishes done to deepen the bond and access more of its power.

Sam believed that the journey or fall to the material world had weakened the spirits; they also needed the bond and nurturing to regain their former power. As a library-bound scholar, he lacked the means to confirm such theories and could only rely on interviewing willing awakened.

"Your offering is satisfactory." Sam took a moment to realize Oroboros was referring to Iris.

"No!" He exclaimed, dragging himself to where she lay. Sam shielded her with his body.

"She is not my offering. Iris is my friend. I wouldn't have made it to you if not for her."

"An offering must be made to create the bond. The girl sacrificed her heart and lungs for hers."

"Take the same from me."

"I refuse," Oroboros replied.

"The bloodsucker might favor organs. I have no use for them. They hold no power. No value. I require something that is dear. Something you desire. Something you need. Something you envision as a part of your future."

"I'm assuming my left hand won't do?" The Great Spirit didn't reply. Iris's spirit had her impaling defeated foes on blood pikes. It had taken her internal organs. Both seemed on theme for an entity that healed her for injuries she inflicted on foes. Sam was sure that the domains of blood and impaling had also come from the deal.