“Stand… down,” Akyl said slowly to the escorts. Her eyes watched the one arm that clung to the tail.She could tell that the tail, or the identity that controlled it, is strong today. There must be a correlation between their method of physical examination and their tail’s response to their body. Rather, she could sense that Horaz is just realizing that there was more to the process happening in his Primer body and just noticing it now.The other escorts, with guns that bore metal ammunition, followed through but the tranquilizer bearer did not ease his aim. The escort shook his head in rejection of her request and Akyl had to acknowledge this.Purce stood still, feeling her tension, more from fear, stiffen her body. The only part that could move was her eyes and she watched in anticipation if the doctor would do something first, or the Primer’s tail.Because, by now, she could see that the Primer is not just fighting the tail but struggling to keep its hold. The twitching stopped for
Chapter 37Skies don’t rain beans or bacon, but Horaz, who’s gotten himself used to the way the Primer identity roams his mind, sees that this Primer sure knows how to mix the setting they stand in by displaying all food he’s been craving for. Nothing beats being human and wanting nothing but to satiate your day with all the good comfort food that lives in your head, at least the ones you’ve tasted before.He has been yearning to eat more than raw meat, which his tongue and throat burned from the bitter taste, not sweet or delectable, but bitter and tangy at the same time. The youth of sixteen years has not tasted flesh the same way it’s described with a raw steak, though he prefers well done, he probably would have had the chance to taste raw steak in the time his family would celebrate special occasions.But he prefers well-done steak, baked beans, and the occasional tacos on the weekends. Softshell because he needs to cater to his girlfriend’s taste for cleanliness, hence food with
Waking up in another body is hellish beyond comparison. Imagine opening your eyes to blindness you didn't know existed, with the light coming from nowhere and everywhere. You don't see with your eyes, but you feel the world ten times stronger with nothing but your body who is sensitive to every kind of noise. Magic would have been more believable than realizing that your blindness is not caused by pain of any internal kind, but by your eyes absorbed inside your skull, sunken deep. Protected by a layer of skin thin but tough, while a substance within shakes and serves to stay it in place. Something moved within their skull, surreal but they could feel it moving with every shake and stir as if a jar of pickles with one pickle inside swimming in its vat of juice. Why am I comparing pickle to my situation? Calming themselves was easy, they “breathed” slow and steady, through a nose they could not feel or sense its presence on their face, but they know its there. Wildly adjusting their t
Two presences from the premise disappeared when the small-statured creature sensed the sensation of an optimal sound and light came from underneath the ground. There was a pause as they waited for the arrival of this, oh so, comforting resonance.Anticipation. Tension. Pause.There was a definite halt in their senses when another sensation overpowered their most awaited event, that was just been triggered moments ago. Because of this, they knew that there was something wrong. Something that would bring them great demise and abandonment, even if they know they could survive without this “thing.”Grasping this “thing” was an answered prayer they knew would be something that could help develop their comrades and these sweet-scented underlings of theirs. Telling them that they would grow and develop into better creatures that could well benefit each other. Without words, just sounds and resonance, deeds.Still, they could not help but waver in tenacity when they felt the loss of this “thi
Small-stature wobbled from their place in shock and confusion. They could hear voices, words they thought would not be possible to understand even if they have a sprinkle of memories of being able to say such things, such words. Vocabulary had almost slipped their still able memory of what they seem to perceive as their selves before this blind-like body.Their comrade underlings did not comprehend the creature in front of Small-stature, making them react in a scared way, almost darting to scurry in escape. Managing to hail them back into the premise of Small-stature’s vicinity was easy, what with One-arm herding them back to where they are.“My, forgive me. It seems like you are a newborn to this body.” Soft-spoken, as Small-stature calls them, listened to them say. “Let me soothe your worries, we are not here to relish harm upon our fellow. Rather, guide them.”Hearing and understanding what Soft-spoken said took about a few seconds of Small-stature’s comprehension, but their underl
Hi, there Nate here :) I've enjoyed writing this story so far, but things have been complicated and I won't be able to write it anymore. There are some moments that I wish I could have fixed in the long run but it's gotten too much to hold in just one hand. After this chapter will be a short Epilog for a short mention of each relevant characters final activities before the future becomest truly a mystery. This story ran its course, pretty long if you ask me, and the development of some characters are slow but steady. There will be a new title coming after this for the coming month, it's tentative title is "Ocular to the Dying Sun." A saga of the Prime Magician and the realm of Slitark according to before their brightest star continues to deteriorate. Have fun reading, please do leave comments~
EpilogueThe caves underground lead nowhere man could tolerate, with the pressure of the world pressing over them, no one can follow the Primer monsters as they exit the premise of C-city. These Primers are not going to be eaten and smothered by power over time, however, they will co-exist in a community built by Memoria.Memoria who sat almost half a millennia awake under the ruins of F-city played another game of race between the lines with several other internet connection nodes that are knowingly joined into the old working cable lines of the dead city. Then when the race finishes, they rest for the while, thinking like a person, old and hesitant.They’ve long forgotten that they could easily browse these connections so that they could monitor the condition of the world and their old friends who now walks the human world with the grace that could only dignify those with experience. They have experience too, of a different kind, all collected from the vast brains and words of those
Windy days aren’t usually a sign of a good day. For some at least it’s refreshing; for a sensitive to the bones and weather, bum living in their parents’ old home, it’s not so welcome. If the hired handyman who came a few days before did his job, things would’ve been different. Betts had had about enough of the cold floor. That became her inspiration to, eventually, pick up the handyman mantle. Even if she had been the least helpful with chores for several years now, nothing says unlucky coincidence more than having her old mother also break her ankle. Not on the same day as the heater broke, but days before its tantrum. Mother had better instincts with the house. Betts inexperience with house “things” made her agree with her siblings, who unabashedly describes her as a voluntary pathetic coward in the presence of responsibility. Dressed in drab sweats and a ragged loose shirt, she has been the owner of a long oily hair for three years now, and not one attemp