Chương 9: Rebellious

He was so tired. The exhaustion wrapped around him, muffling the wounds, complicated thoughts, and the deep unease of his body breaking with each step, replacing them with blessed oblivion. As the three merged together, he found himself a passenger in his own body as it rejected him, shutting down. He'd pushed too far, and now the mind was dragging him below, smothering him in exhaustion to ensure his self-destruction would come to an end, if only for a moment.

It was a cloying, forceful, safe decision to remain in its embrace. Yet, as soon as one of the burdens lifted, he found himself moving before his mind even caught up. As pain ceased to be, numbed by something else, he thrashed against the mental bindings, fighting to take control of his body once more. He could do little, but as his finger twitched and his breath turned erratic, he just barely managed to crack his eyelids enough for the beginnings of an image to leave an impression on him.

Even so, he felt nothing; as he was slowly foisted back into consciousness, sound met his ears and light touched his eyes, he was completely void of any physical sensation, a deep numbness coating his entire body. It removed only the pain, but at this point, pain was all he felt. Seeing him start to shift, he heard two voices say "Stop moving" in sync. He hummed gently, as that's all he could do, wanting to ask what was happening.

Either because they understood, or because they were trying to distract him away from his desire to squirm, he finally got an answer: recognizing the voice as Amelia's, the woman who'd crashed through a wall of cannibals to save him.

"There is a lady here who is healing you, but it's already a miracle you're alive. Be still and let us do our work. You've only been out for a few seconds, so you haven't missed much… Sorry about the screaming, her Primary works by putting your wounds on someone else, but it's just a cannibal so… not the worst."

'Screaming?' he thought, but finally processed the "Background noise" he'd subconsciously tuned out until that point- and indeed, there was a continuous bloodcurdling scream going on in the background, accompanied by sizzling and the distinct scent of Locapede acid- he should know, he'd gotten a nosefull of it when it melted his off. Unlike regular acid, it had a strange watery scent to accompany the biting, pungent one- not that it smelled like nothing, but it smelled like…

right before you took a sip of water from your glass and got a nosefull of mist, that is what Locapede acid smelled like. Alongside the screaming, other noises returned as well, people muttering in a concerned tone, shuffling footsteps and the ruffle of clothes, as well as a strange prickling sensation on his skin.

His eyes opened further, and he was just in time to see the last human leaving the cage- and quickly step away from the entrance as the Nosferians began to inch their way towards the opening, each looking much more hostile than squeaky was. Even without Corruption assisting him, he could tell by their tense bodies and flattened ears that each one was seconds from attacking.

"You there!" the woman holding his right shoulder- the presumed doctor- shouted as she pointed at one of the men who'd just escaped.

"Go replace Peter in holding down the cannibal, Pete, get over here." They jumped into action, and Aaron heard footsteps approach him.

"Peter, go behind him and get ready to pull the spear all the way through. It's smooth enough, and I don't want its jagged edge cutting up anything else. Sir, do not move. Without the pain this might feel odd, but stay still" the woman said, and he hummed an agreement, still too weak to move around in the first place.

"Okay, when I say go, pull as fast as you can. Three… Two… One… GO!" Something slid through his lungs and he fought the urge to not muster his strength or tense; it felt utterly wrong, as if a slug crawled through his internal organs, slick with mucous- though he knew that was his own blood coating the object. It itched and he felt an almost irresistible urge to cough, but resisted. As it did, the screaming of the cannibal reached a crescendo…

then went completely silent, the grunts of a struggle to hold him down replaced by a deafening silence. Agony slammed in him and his Primary surged once more, coating the wound as he let out a shallow gasp.

"FUCK!" he heard the doctor say, which was not a particular comfort to hear from someone keeping him alive.

"His heart just gave out! Pete, help us move the patient towards the other cannibals now! Sir, please do not move." That was far easier said than done. Even his Primary had limits, and as he was jostled and carried elsewhere, he felt blood pour from his chest; he'd be dead in seconds if nothing was done, with his Primary trying desperately to plug the three-inch-wide hole in his torso.

It was only made worse as his Primary couldn't spare the effort to nullify pain, not with every scrap of energy bent towards keeping him alive. The agony of his acid burns, torn muscles, and ruptured organs sent fire coursing through his nerves, causing him to tense and relax as he actively fought against the instinct to thrash in their grip, knowing it would only accelerate his demise.

His Primary tried to pull deeper from its well, but the energy surged in an uncontrollable, wild manner, leaving cracks in its wake. Some of it followed along the paths towards his wounds, but the rest he pushed it out of his body, clamping down on his Primary as best he could, pressing against the trapdoor from which it flowed to limit the invasive, dangerous version of its "Help." Only half the energy that came through went towards maintaining him in some way.

Two dozen more bulbs, each larger than the last, twisted and broke through his skin in different places, opening even more wounds. He barely registered that he was screaming.

Even if he somehow managed to keep himself from fighting against those helping him, the gurgling cry that tore from his throat was not something he could have stopped if he wanted to, his entire attention dedicated to keeping the horrifying energy out; he knew that if he let it, the next surge of energy would be uncontainable, and it would tear through him in a way that even his rupturing flesh hadn't yet.

Again and again, the new wave of energy from his Primary sought its way out, but he pressed his entire will against the door, barring it entry even as physical shockwaves began to tear through him in sync with its efforts. His eardrums popped and he was hit with a wave of vertigo. His vision turned red and his eyes ached moments before darkness seemed in from his peripheral vision.

He wasn't sure if he was even alive anymore- much less awake- but no matter what, he did everything he could to follow the orders of the woman who he knew was trying to save him, grabbing on to the one lifeline, the single off-chance that he would survive. And then it was over. All his pain disappeared, Onward Evermore ceased slamming against the door leaving only an eerie silence, and he was rocked with a sudden clarity.

'Am I dead?' he wondered with a cold fear. His ears popped again, and he found himself relieved to hear screaming once more, this time from a different source, as well as a cacophony of begging from all around him as other cannibals pleaded to not be "Next." They'd made it to the others in time. He wasn't sure how far the walk had been, but it couldn't have been more than a few steps or taken longer than a couple seconds; yet he simply struggled to understand how so much could've happened in such a short window.

Lying flat on his back, he felt his body stitching together all over, and now that he wasn't immediately at risk of dying, he finally had the spare mental faculties to take in the more internal processes, the things he'd ignored until now. Mainly, he realized that- similar to how he'd combated the Primary of the "Boss," the absent leader of this band of cannibals who'd been running from a Mushki last Aaron saw him- the doctor, too, was pushing past his Primary to heal him.

Though, she wasn't breaking his Primary as he'd done to the boss'- no, she was simply phasing through it, ignoring it to meet at his wounds. Considering she also had a Primary, he realized that she was a part of the same group he'd come with, those from his apartment. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Not wanting to accidentally interfere with her and kill himself, he decided to actually look through the notifications that'd piled up during his final strike against the metal bars of the cage. He'd gone from zero Sensitivity and Weight to one in each, giving him a clue as to what both did. Sensitivity was his measure of… other people's Primaries? It couldn't just be that, as not everyone had Primaries, but it could be?

After all, he didn't actually know what a Primary was, but it clearly wasn't something unique to the System. VoN said that the System was using them as guinea pigs to figure out the best way to survive in the Underworld, so he'd assumed Primaries were something it knew well already, but perhaps they were pre-existing concepts in the Underworld that the System merely hijacked.

The cannibals called them something else though; the lead one had called it his "Boss' Imprint," which was a strange thing to call it but he was sure they had their reasons. Either way, for now, Sensitivity was his ability to decipher Primaries, or at least one of its uses. Weight was the ability to push through those Primaries and, looking back, that paired well with Resistance as well, explaining the name of the latter. If someone had a harmful Primary, Resistance would allow him to resist their influence.

Right now, the doctor was being helpful, but what if she'd tried to hurt him? Would he have been able to stop her? Did she have a higher Weight than his Resistance? Yet, somehow, he wasn't entirely sure that was possible as the next series of notifications opened before him. First was one involving his Corruption stat. {Corruption: 0 -> Corruption: 1} {?? Primary serving as Corruptive force??} {Warning, incapable of categorizing or containing effects of self corruption. Cease Primary usage.} Once he'd pushed his Primary too far and its energy started to become harmful towards him, the System seemed to freak out, not knowing what was going on; it appeared that Primaries could influence Corruption in more ways than simply pushing it out of the body- they could Corrupt you as well, and this seemed to be a distinctly bad thing if the System's words were to be trusted, rather than the neutral response to corrupting himself against other beings like Squeaky.

The next notification gave him both questions and answers on certain things. {ERROR: Corruption surpassing current limit.} {ERROR RESOLVED: Auxiliary manifestation venting excess.} {WARNING: Cease Primary usage, manifestation approaching critical instability.} {Corruption: 1 -> Corruption: 1. 1} Knowing that "1" was the limit of stats right now provided some comfort, as it meant the boss of the cannibals wouldn't have like, a hundred Weight and just blow him apart with magic or something.

While it was definitely possible to raise the maximum, he was just glad there was something to stop someone from being endlessly powerful. However, that boundary could be pushed, if only slightly. True, going from "1" Corruption to "1. 1" nearly killed him, but he had done it; now he just needed to figure out what an "Auxiliary manifestation" was.

He felt he had an idea based on how his skin felt like it was blistering as he pushed the energy from his Primary out of his body, he just needed to check when he could move again. And finally… the notification he'd earned only seconds ago, the result of his attempt at fighting back the wave of sickly energy pouring from the depths of his Primary. {Resistance: 1 -> Resistance: 1. 1} {?} He found the question mark funnier than he should have, and the maddened giggle he let out appeared to make both Amelia and the doctor visibly nervous. You'd think they would be happy he was still smiling after the agonizing pain he felt, but no, they were instead concerned. The System, it seemed, wasn't sure how to interpret "Resistance: 1. 1." For Corruption, it reasoned that he'd gone beyond how much energy he could take, and his body had vented the excess- creating those blisters he'd felt exploding from him.

His Resistance, though? There wasn't a downside he could feel yet, just an acknowledgement that he'd stood his ground against the corruption that very nearly surged through him. Even the System didn't warn him against pushing past his limits when it came to Resistance, as it had when he'd gone over with Corruption; it couldn't detect any ill effects, it was simply confused. So it was possible to push past stat limits, at least to a degree, but he wasn't sure anyone else could or would repeat what he'd done.

With nothing to occupy his mind, he was brought back to the devastation surrounding him. Three different cannibals had begun to thrash, each going silent shortly after, and he was on the fourth. Above him, he could see that the doctor helping him openly had tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't imagine what was going through her mind right now. Or… he could.

He'd felt the same thing when he slit the old man's throat and watched the fear in his eyes as he faded away; the horror of knowing you'd taken another life. There might not be a way to stop it, but his eyes landed on Amelia. Staring at her, he thought back to how much easier it'd become to feel little remorse once he'd seen their actions with his own eyes. But, at the same time, that wasn't his right to tell. Amelia had been the one in the compromising, position.

If anyone would comfort the doctor, fully, it had to be Amelia herself, though he could give the doctor his take until he got the chance to speak with Amelia in private later. Amelia gave him a slightly questioning look at his stare, but he simply shook his head gently, relaxing back again… just in time to see a familiar face crawling along the ceiling directly above him, staring directly at him with what he would presume to be concern.

'Hello Squeaky.' Keeping track of his Primary, he was able to tell when the doc was 90% done with healing him, leaving only a few bruises- including those on his bones. So, when the fifth cannibal gave out and she was about to move on, he moved his arm, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Stop, this is good enough." She was already having it rough, he wouldn't put her through more to spare him a little bit of pain. She simply nodded, stood up, and walked away, moving to the other side of the truck. One of the women in the group moved to join her, while everyone else simply milled about- most of them openly staring at him He finally stood up, helped to his feet by Amelia, and began taking stock. He found that he still had his feather.

Not only that, but his knuckles were white, and as he tried to force them to relax, the death grip he held on his blade being stiff to the point of hurting himself. Turning his eyes just a bit lower, he looked down at his body and finally saw what he'd been mentally referring to as "Blisters," only to see that yellow dandelion flowers were growing from his skin.

"Huh…"

"Why are you covered in flowers?" Amelia asked, and he shook his head.

"It'll take too long to explain. First, I need to check on my other friend, then we need to get the remaining cages open." After all, the largest prison, and the only one with the people he'd recognized, was simply the first of four. The other three, though smaller, still contained humans, nosferians and, separated from the others, gray aliens.

"Other friend?" He smiled, nodding as he walked off to the side.

"Yea, I didn't navigate the camp alone, I had a spotter to tell me where the guards were." When they were separated from the others, under a few questioning gazes, Squeaky finally detached from the ceiling, gently flapping her wings as she slowly fell. Following his gaze, Amelia made a humming noise, "You met one too? How do you talk?" He shook his head, "We don't but I think we've come to an understanding."

The other nosferians, who had slowly bunched up outside of the cage, started making noise, and the people quickly cleared out of the way, letting them walk over. Squeaky landed in front of him and immediately began petting him, luckily not pulling him into a hug as he knew she wanted to. Amelia shot him an amused look, and he said "I've found that they are very touchy-feely." She frowned, "They hated us, didn't want to come within ten feet and looked on the verge of attacking if we got too close…"

He rolled his eyes, "I wonder why," he said, just as squeaky retracted her wings, meeting the others of her kind. They seemed to exchange rapid squeaks for a while, before the others suddenly went silent and Squeaky went on a tangent, ears flickering wildly as she spoke. There was the roar of an engine, and Aaron's view snapped off to the side, watching as the first cannibals finally made it to their cars- or at least, the first ones who'd escaped the large, angry berserker wielding two metal poles. That man…

did not let any escape But even one escaping would be bad news for them, because if they did, they might be able to tell other cannibal camps that there was a group of survivors here, and maybe coordinate with them to take them down.

"Squeaky!" he immediately said towards her, and though he doubted she knew the name he'd given her, perhaps his tone caught her attention. She cut off her words to look at him, and he pointed. She followed his finger, saw what was happening, and exchanged rapidfire words with the other nosferians. Then, she crouched down, and jumped high. Going from resting to leaping over forty feet in a single instant, he realized that he'd never actually seen her exert herself.

True, her upper body was quite fragile, but her legs were the only part of her that held notable muscles, and she'd already easily jumped from ground-level to the top of the truck they drove here with ease. His jaw dropped as she soared through the air in an almost perfect parabolic arc before she even had to flap a single time, and the other nosferians were close behind.

Ever since he found her running from the Locapedes and was told that her world had a much lower muscle mass, he'd thought of her as fragile and helpless in a fight. Perhaps, to a degree, he was correct that nosferians didn't have the strength a single human might. Yet… seeing a swarm of them descend upon one of the cannibals attempting to flee… he was simply glad their ire was not aimed at him. Even a rat would bite if cornered, and enough could absolutely kill a person. Nosferians were not rats though.

They were cave people, living in an era where only the strongest survived; even if the muscle density of their body was far more bottom-heavy than a humans, that only made them a significantly more dangerous species, as only those with the most powerful legs would earn the right to reproduce, either to escape or defend themselves. Yes, their wings were easily cut or broken, and doing so would cripple them long enough for them to die easily.

Yes, the cramped tunnels of Floor Zero took away their flight most of the time. But, when the conditions were just right … He watched one of the Nosferians swoop down, leg bent backwards as it aimed for the fleeing cannibal. Even from where he was standing, he heard the crack as the Nosferian's leg met the cannibal's skull… and saw red chunks go flying.