Chapter 23: Penitent Crusade. (Patreon)

Chapter 23: Penitent Crusade.

I re-entered the labyrinth feeling better than I had in weeks. My heart swelled with self-acceptance. Knowing full well that I was on the path to redemption. At the end of this road, I would be a hero, or I would be dead. Both options had their own appeal.

Talking to Buddy had helped me, back when I was still blind. Before I truly understood the weight of my own sins.

This was a different sort of contentment. I was no longer afraid of myself. Of what others might think of me.

After all, they were right to fear me. To shun me.

I’d pull away as well, were I in their shoes.

The only option was to cast away the falsehoods. To sacrifice this shell in order to save as many people as I could.

With that in mind, we walked. Towards our destiny.

The first to join were a group of five centipedes clinging to a nearby ceiling. Their sharp chitinous legs skittering in jubilation after I hammered their new goals into their soft brain matter.

After that came the eels, who were feasting on the remains of a lobster-mole. The three of them gently floated to our side without issue. Basking in the righteousness of our mission.

Two live lobster-moles and one tiger-mole sauntered over a few minutes later.

I touched each in turn, using [Psychometry] to assess my forces.

Lesser Venom Centipede:

A level 3 venomous centipede.

This creature has access to Enhancer abilities.

Its highest-level ability is [Enhanced Dexterity] 2.

Lesser Strangler Centipede:

A level 6 giant centipede.

This creature has access to Enhancer abilities.

Its highest-level ability is [Enhanced Strength] 3.

Savouring their own Psy reserves was…

Morbidly fascinating.

Like waking up in the morning and finding a queer pulsating tumor on my chest.

Barely perceptible trickles of oddness returning to me alongside the vitae attached to their segmented bodies.

Those legs did not feel like human limbs. Lacking any warmth beneath the skin. Bereft of the sensitivity to pressure or temperature changes.

These appendages were as knives. Forged and sharpened for the purposes of disassembly.

My other recruits had little in common with their sort, though all were equally alien to me.

Phantom Jaw Eel:

A level 11 giant eel.

This creature has access to Enhancer and Shifter abilities.

Its highest-level ability is [Jaws] 4.

Clawed Mole:

A level 20 giant mole.

This creature has access to Enhancer and Shifter abilities.

Its highest-level ability is [Enhanced Toughness] 5.

Striped Mole:

A level 32 giant mole.

This creature has access to Enhancer and Shifter abilities.

Its highest-level ability is [Enhanced Toughness] 5.

The eels and the moles felt constrained by their own exteriors. The closest I could come to describe it would be what a human might experience when wrapped in layers of leather and fur.

None showed any reaction. Indeed, I’d be surprised if they noticed at all. Consumed as they were with the completion of our goals.

Sadly, this led to a few accidents when, in their fervor, some failed to notice or avoid traps.

I sighed, calling upon those thin strings of ethereal power once again. Drawing them firmly from their sleep and winding them around the echoes of Psy coming from my soldiers. Gripping those feeble embers swirling in their bodies. Squeezing with [Message] and sharing [Premonition]. 

Level Gained: +50 Maximum Psy. +8 Ability Points.

Ability Evolving: [Premonition] 3 has grown to [Premonition] 5

New dangers called out to me from beyond the veil. Bleating like goats one second and crashing like waves the next. My own preconceived notions of peril and what might have passed for it began losing meaning as blaring alarms sounded from far away.

Though [Sense Thoughts] couldn’t pinpoint traps, it and my map found an illuminating resonance in the warnings. The foreshadowed peril was forced upon my army, travelling like music notes on dripping heartstrings. Singing with every melodious beat.

Ability Gained: [Team Tactics] 1 has been added to the Status.

Level Gained: +50 Maximum Psy. +8 Ability Points.

Ability Evolving: [Message] 4 has grown to [Message] 5

Ability Evolving: [Team Tactics] 1 has grown to [Team Tactics] 2

The change was sudden, though not unwelcome.

While I couldn’t really care less whether or not my meat shields died, I’d much rather them die fighting the gnomes. They were, after all, a means to an end. The catalyst for my penance.

I had to get to their city and free the people trapped there.

I had to risk everything for the sake of others.

I had to be a good person.

In order to fulfil that purpose, these dolls needed to be whole. They needed to be strong. They needed to be…

More.

To be a horde that trampled all resistance.

This small stream of resources wasn’t going to cut it. It wouldn’t be anywhere near enough.

I immersed myself in blurry memories. Recalling the chase and the sleepless nights. The flaying desperation eating away at the corners of my mind.

The power of [Friendship].

I’d undergone that trance when my mind was clouded. Seeking any relief from the crushing weariness.

Now, I did the same with its larger, meaner cousin.

[Domination] suffocated me in a manner wholly foreign to rational imagination. 

In the haze, I commanded myself.

“Expand my range. Grow the swarm. Get more of them under my banner.”

So, I did. Drowning in rapturous ecstasy. Sharpening my focus to a razor’s edge. Pumping rivers of purple energy from the lake within me into the frayed  reality of the maze. Lacerating arcs of purple lighting roared from inside my eyes as the deluge surged outwards.

Time dilated slightly. Each new step falling slower than the last. Each new breath entering me with a miniscule delay.

Space twisted as well. The stone lining the walls grew hazy; mixing with the nearby flora. Slithering into each other like two separate broths of soups placed within the same bowl. New colours emerged from the canvas. Showing themselves in all their glory. Shedding their secrecy for the first time in forever.

All the strings grew taught. Tensing with newfound vigor.

Along them crawled my purpose.

“You are all tools.” I said to them.

The words eliciting shivers of joy and despair. Shattered remnants of whatever my units had been trying to piece themselves back together.

“You are all weapons.” I insisted. “Bullets to be fired and spent and discarded. Do not fight it. Enjoy your sacrifice. Move for me. Kill for me. Only after you’ve bled and fallen and died, will your existence mean anything.”

Commandments seared themselves into their, no, our psyche. Rewriting a script from the ground up. 

The murky depths were boiling with activity as the three ropes of my strongest abilities grasped the space between spaces. Flailing like the tentacles of some eldritch monstrosity trying to surface. To look at the fragile web of lies it inhabited.

More colours appeared alongside new contours. The boundaries of this forsaken place wavered. All that rock and water and flesh unable to keep the secrets within.

Silky curtains replaced the previous environments. Shining stars interwoven in the fabric. Their very presence was suffused with supernatural beauty and pressure in equal measure.

Pushing me back. Pushing me down. Pushing me out.

It was not enough.

My determination would not waver. Not even if all my bones were crushed and my sinews turned to paste.

Every inclination and movement hurt. Carrying with them a blast of blinding agony that would have deterred any normal human.

It was a laughable attempt.

This much was nothing next to the pain of my guilt.

I pushed in deeper. Past the first and second veils. Ignoring how hard it became. Until all I could breathe was pure, unfiltered Psy. Little blocks of immaterial substance. A universe that hid behind the physical, unsure if it had come before or after. 

Behind them were layers upon layers of shattered glass. Crisscrossed by dusty cobwebs. Each crystal was a window singing about the past, present and future. The sarcophagus was here, cursing the armored woman. A burning man exploded in all directions, trying and failing to feel warm and safe. The running man carrying off a consolation prize, unaware that his actions killed his family. A mother cradled the bodies of her children, finding them too late. Two warriors die in their village’s last stand, their father joining them thereafter.

My halo shone brighter. Loosening beams of silver and purple and gold.

Once more, the dinging and ringing of notifications rose in pitch and volume. Swelling alongside the number of pawns I held.

My fog exploded like a broken dam. Orbiting wisps of Psy condensing before violently expanding in an orchestra of new impressions.

Ability Evolving: [Sense Thoughts] 4 has grown to [Sense Thoughts] 8

Ability Evolving: [Mental Map] 3 has grown to [Mental Map] 8

Ability Evolving: [Precognition] 5 has grown to [Precognition] 6

Ability Evolving: [Psychometry] 2 has grown to [Psychometry] 3

Fleeting impulses begged me to return, but I pushed them aside. Whatever was back there only mattered when it helped. The hostages were infinitely more important. This boost would be enough. For now.

Contrary to my expectations, my range did not only double. After 5, every new level in the ability seemed to grant a further 500 metres instead of the usual 100. All added together for a total radius of two kilometres.

The change shook my foundations for a few seconds. The interwoven cord that was [Domination] leaping greedily for new prey.

In short order, hundreds upon hundreds of bugs, eels, rabbits, and moles were made to see the error of their ways.

As a bonus, I even obtained a dozen shrews, a slightly injured leviathans and roughly two hundred gnomes spread around the place. Those patrolling the middle and outer edges above and below me were mounted on mutated ants while those to my sides or close to travelled on foot.

Oddly, the mounted units managed to resist a little more fiercely. A stoic few were even able to scream or claw at their faces while I burrowed deep inside of them.

The serpent for its part, actually fought me within the fog. Draining Psy as it thrashed about.

Their efforts failed to amuse.

“Kneel.” I whispered. Relishing the booming aftershocks my order created as it oppressed the gnomes from all directions.

Compliance was swift and brutal.

Killing a fair number as they smashed their skulls into solid bedrock.

“Be my tools. Be my blades. Spend your life’s blood to atone for your wretched existence. Suffer me now.”

All the voices rose in acceptance. Forming a colourful chorus of guilt. Channeling my determination.

At the center was my own beleaguered mind. Shedding weakness like a butterfly would its cocoon.

Ability Evolving: [Meditation] 3 has grown to [Meditation] 7

Ability Evolving: [Team Tactics] 2 has grown to [Team Tactics] 3

“Gather around me. Do not trigger traps.”

With this edict, I felt my map come alive with movement. Previously obscured areas revealing themselves in their entirety.

As this happened, I realized that it also wasn’t enough.

I could be stronger. I could be faster.

No.

I needed to be, for the sake of the prisoners.

“You, mole. Pick me up. Place me on your back.”

Eager to comply, the monster mounted me atop its neck. Perfectly placed so that handholds were within reach.

“Run towards the city.”

That, as it turned out was a mistake.

A month of rough spelunking had done plenty to toughen me up. Especially after I secured a reliable source of nutrients through Buddy. Yet my gains were that of a normal human body. No match for my mount’s enhanced prowess.

I fell off the beast as soon as it picked up speed. Breaking an arm and a leg in the process.

Cursing, I willed the pair I’d found outside Granny Golden’s clearing to my side. Mot’s magic knife found their way into their faces and their stolen life fixed the consequences of my stupidity.

Having learned from my blunder, I commanded one of the leviathans to wrap its feelers around my waist and torso once it had reached me. All so that I could travel with the grace and dignity of a fat toddler strapped to its parent.

[Psychometry] sucked in information once the process was complete.

Dolce the Phantom Force Serpent:

Dolce is a level 93 giant Phantom Force Serpent.

This creature has access to Enhancer, Shifter, Projector and Telepath abilities.

Dolce’s highest-level ability is [Fear] 10.

Dolce loves nothing more than to hide in the darkness before ramming unsuspecting prey.

Dolce also loves hugs and being lovingly cuddled while falling asleep.

Dolce’s death will grant 75, 000 Store Tokens.

“Huh.”

‘What is it sully?’

“It has a name. Like the gnomes did. None of the other critters had names.”

‘Do I have a name?’

“Of course, you do Buddy. You’re a free-thinking sentient being that can feel love and happiness and I’m going to stop talking before I fully process the implications.”

Contrary to my wishes, the freaking snake kept on thinking.

‘I’m also a free-thinking sentient being that can feel love. I know because I love you. Please make me feel better. Please give me hugs.’

I flinched involuntarily. All too aware of the colossal jaws and the possibility of them being the least threatening aspect of my new recruit.

I also recalled my tumble through the upside-down rapids and the coral reefs. The cold, weighty abyss hiding certain death whilst keeping me contained.

Then I wondered if going back was feasible now that I had an in.

“No. The people here need my help. I’ll save them all. Because I’m a good person.”

‘What was that?’

“Nothing you should be worried about. You’ll get your due once you get me to the gnomish base. On with it.”

‘Yes master!’

The lurch made my stomach flip upside down. My ragtag junta flying through the largest passages with all the subtlety of a speeding train.

Many of our not-so-willing comrades fell behind, but many more joined in their stead as mobs felt the sting of my whip.

Metaphorically, of course.

Hundreds became thousands an hour into the march.

A relentless parade of hungry flesh. Eager to please beyond any reasonable standard. I’d half-expected to meet some barrier. Some mishap or blockade that would inconvenience the advance.

Instead, I had the good fortune to meet a group of survivors.

Group as in, more than one human being in the same place.

Goodness gracious. It was a miracle.

I focused on their location, some 1900 metres away from me to the left and some 50 metres below me. More or less at the spot where my senses ended.

I saw them on the map, filling the three-dimensional space with their own awareness.

Previously, my divination would stop there. Now, I could now make out further details, granted by a qualitative improvement after passing level 5. There was a spark, of sorts, moving alongside their errant ruminations. Inside their brains.

Moreover, all of them are completely visible; not just the contents of their minds. I could feel how tall they are, how they draw in each breath. Their faces are made out as well, pictures that pop up in a sea of mist.

A shard of me went along with the current, deeper into the dancing lights that signaled humans. Those contained bursts of essence had a shape, one that existed alongside their physical organs.

Eighteen appeared to be jagged or blunted rocks. Unprocessed ores that kept their brilliance contained. Another person was more akin to a flexible organ, holding bubbles in its center as it danced in place. The last two even had what appeared to be candles burning inside of them, wax endlessly falling aside and being re-absorbed by the whole.

Trippy, to say the least, but it was another clue. If these represented Esper Types, going by how many there were of each kind, ores would be Enhancers, liquids would be Shifters and candles meant Projectors.

Merely a hypothesis. But one that made sense to me. I’d have to do some more experimentation later to confirm.

Actually, I would do some experimentation right now.

A minuscule push is all it took to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Why can’t I stay?” Asks the syrup.

“Well, see here, we’ve had to make an executive decision about you.” Answers the candle. Reaching to hold an arm that wasn’t there. “Pete and Walder don’t care for you. The whole flesh-growing-back thing upsets them. The only reason they haven’t stabbed you is because they’re afraid you’re a witch that’ll curse their pants off. Giorno already shot you. Twice. He’s also really spooked on account of you not dying from that. As for me…”

He paused for effect, unsure of whether it needed to be said.

“It’s the rabbit mask. I’m thankful for you healing me and saving my life. I’m man enough to admit those psychos would have killed me if it weren’t for you. However, the mask is too much. You’ve refused to take it off so vehemently that we’re worried about your mental stability. Shifters don’t have a great reputation to start with and I can’t afford to worry about you flying off the handle and eating poor Walder.”

“That’s right! You tell him master wizard!”

“The masks stinks of pagan curses! Like that hag back in Antwerp!”

“Shoot it! Shoot it now! Its in league with the Polish!”

Their target barely moved. Their own mind was blank as freshly fallen snow. Their posture slouched and animalistic.

[Mental Map] unveiled their identity. It was the Bunny Man. The very same one who’d helped me so long ago.

He stood alone. Faced with vehement shouts and disparaging comments.

At the head of the mob, was Randall. One arm shorter.

Then there were the others.

Pete and Walder, who’d happily admitted to arson and murder and the soldier who broke my leg and ran. Besides those recognisable faces were a gaggle of ardent supporters. Practically bursting with the desire to stone Bunny Man to death.

All carried themselves with an air of self-importance. All thought they were doing the right thing.

“What a stupid waste.”

‘Why do you say that, Sully?’

“Over half of the original victims have died. No matter how many gnomes I break, there are more around every corner. There is a literal prison filled with humans where we’re going. One manned and overseen by cannibals. Infighting is imbecilic at best. Downright treasonous at worst.”

‘You think they’re trying to fail on purpose?’

“Nah. I think emotions are running high. They’re all equally scared. They’re all tired and hungry. Some are wondering if they’ll ever see their loved ones again. I know what that feels like. What it can do to you.”

I shook my head before the intrusive thoughts wormed their way back in.

“I need to stop this. Because I’m a good person. Happy thoughts. Positive thoughts.”

I was mumbling my mantra again, but paid the growing habit no heed. It wasn’t important right now.

[Message] hadn’t been too useful in diplomacy before, so I would use a more friendly and open approach.

[Overwhelming Delusion] manifested. Creating an exact replica of me between the involved parties.

A replica that included Buddy covering my whole body. As well as Dolce the Lovecraftian horror. Complete with all the glowing, writhing tentacles and massive needle-like fangs.

Buddy’s copy said nothing.

Dolce’s copy roared.

My own copy began screaming the same words I was thinking.

“I’M A GOOD PERSON! HAPPY THOUGHTS! POSITIVE THOUGHTS!”

My audience started screaming too. Then a healthy percentage started vomiting and bleeding from the eyes and ears. Convulsing violently as if electrocuted and burned with branding irons all at once.

Randall fought through the agony, bringing his one arm up to release a fiery missile that impacted the stone behind the illusion.

If anyone had been paying attention, they might have realized they weren’t in any danger. That the apparition was just that. A fake. A phony. An ability that did no damage…

Oh.

That’s right. It absorbed some other ones back then. The new description said it did psychic damage. Its also level 11. If my fog improved this much after growing to level 8 then…

Oh Poo.

“I DIDN’T MEAN TO DO THIS! I’M A GOOD PERSON! HAPPY THOUGHTS! POSITIVE THOUGHTS!”

The persecutors ran away from my fog. The Bunny Man ran further into it. Wailing like the rest. Rending crimson ribbons into his torso, though his oversized mask remained intact.

I switched to [Message].

‘Hold on! I didn’t mean to do that! I know you! You gave me a nutrient bar! You healed me! I helped you fight the eels!’

He stopped half an hour later, taking his time to dispel the panic in his heart. Even then, he trembled like a newborn fawn. Looking around as if trapped in a deep dark forest, with snarling wolves poised to leap out of every shadow.

“You. I thought you were dead. Didn’t see you for weeks. Randall said he was hunting Telepaths.”

“Yeah, Randall’s got a big mouth for someone who hangs out with murderers and arsonists.” I replied bitterly. Perhaps using a bit more force than I’d meant to.

He took another minute to get his breathing under control. Leaning back against a smooth stone wall before answering again.

“Perhaps it was for the best. They didn’t like me very much.”

He took a swig from a canteen strapped to his makeshift belt. Still bearing tufts of fur from the tiger mole it had originated from.

“Thanks for helping me back there. I don’t suppose you’re in the market for a Shifter?”

‘I’d love to have you!’ I retorted at once.

A more cautious man might have hesitated.

A more learned man might recall the many grisly killings Shifters were known for back in their home planet.

A more sensible man might consider that the bomb collar laws had been put in place for a reason.

Those kinds of people could take a long walk off a short pier.

I was good person who didn’t let their prejudices get the better of them.

Besides, I had a goal anyone could get behind.

The more the merrier.