******
Loading Environment…
Loading Environment States…
Loading Actors…
Loading Actors States…
Loading Actors Memories…
Simulation Ready.
Simulation Starting in:
3
2
1
******
Tristia crawled out from the shelter, then taking a deep breath while stretching her arms. Her expression was light.
“Ah, shit…”
Another agenda.
She hurried inside.
Umbra was gnawing on a smoked bone.
“Still too hard?”
“Hg…?” his saliva dripped out from the bone.
“The bone,” she grabbed more fabrics and picked up some ashes. “Is the bone too hard?”
He shook his head
“Alright, good to know,” she came out of the shelter, “don’t get your arse anywhere, okay? I’m head out for a while.”
He nodded.
After roughly half an hour, she returned, grumbling. “Fuck… if only you could walk.”
“Wagh…”
“That… is a word, isn’t it?” she approached him. “You just said ‘walk’ or am I going insane here?” she pinched around his face. “Say it again… that word.”
“Wagh…?”
She could feel his mouth was moving. “Close enough…” she shrugged and released his face. “Is something return? Like about yourself?”
He nodded and pointed to himself.
“You remember yourself? Everything?”
He shook his head. “Hagh… shi…”
“Hasi… Hazy? So, still blurry?”
He nodded.
“Do you remember me?”
He shook his head.
“Typical…” she sighed.
Tristia was checking on their supply, and accidentally grumbled. “We need more food…”
“Hg…?”
She turned to him. “Yeah, food… hm, yeah… I could probably get some leaves…” she grabbed a staff. “Okay… I’ll go out again. Don’t go anywhere, alright?” Tristia crawled out again.
He nodded.
“Good… fuck… at least I’m not talking to myself…” she dragged herself away, slowly becoming farther and farther.
However, Tristia was gone longer than previously.
Umbra left with his own thought, remembered only one word, “Wagh…”
He position his legs with his arm, flinching as he moved his right leg. He slowly coiled his tails around the root and his hand grabbed upward.
He pulled up, and somehow managed to stand.
However, since he could not stop, the energy continued forward and he fall down horn first into the ground. “Gh…”
It took so long for him to recover that Tristia arrived first, carrying some branches and leaves. “Umbra? What in the hell are…”
Umbra still squirmed around, trying to return to his seating position. “Wagh…” his face covered with soil.
“And let me guess… you fall face first?”
He averted his gaze.
She sighed. “Come on, let’s get your arse clean up, big guy…”
“Look, Umbra…” she panted after she managed to help him sit again. “I ain’t mind you train. Just wait for me, alright?
He nodded.
“Right…” she grabbed a staff. “Use this… as walking stick.”
“Walgh…?”
“Yeah, but slowly… alright?”
He nodded.
“W-Wait! Let me get out of the way!” she crawled aside.
He kept staring at her.
“What? You hope me to catch you? You’ll fuckin flatten my guts!”
He exhaled loudly.
“This big fuck…” she grunted, inaudible to him. “Fuck… you barely talk and already piss my arse off…”
Hours passed. The sun came and went. Both prey and predators still roamed the land. Birds still flied and chirped. Yet the shelter barely changed.
The occasional grunt of pain, a shriek of joy or just even some rarely annoyance was heard, or even a loud scream of pain that woke the entire forest.
Tristia crawled in and out every now and then, returning with more branches and leaves.
Umbra sometimes peeked out, or completely fell out of the shelter. Most of the time, Tristia returned and pushed him into the shelter. But occasionally, he managed to crawl into the shelter himself but accidentally destroyed the mud wall in the process. She returned as Umbra desperately tried to patch it. They re-built the hole in the wall together and started to work on the roof.
Tristia did not manage to get much food by just foraging.
Occasionally, she returned with several wild nuts, plant seeds, or even occasional berries. for her to eat, but often time, she returned only with several edible leaves.
Umbra stared at her.
“What?” she realized his stare as she was still munching on some leaves.
He pointed his finger to her.
“What is it?” she grunted. “You want some?”
“Mognh…”
“Monk? What do you mean by monk?”
“Khi…”
She paused. “YOU SON OF A—”
Luckily for him, she did not have any legs.
Umbra, on the other hand, still ran entirely on bones.
“I don’t think it would be—”
Loud crunch was heard as Umbra’s jaws tore through the old bone.
“Nevermind…” but she kept staring at him. “Umbra… do you not like… take a piss or something? You’re not pissing in the shelter, right? Heck… I don’t think you even drink.”
He tilted his head.
“Drink. Water. Do you need to drink water?” she repeated.
He shook his head.
“Huh… okay…”
Little that they knew, five days had passed.
Tristia crawled back to the shelter, carrying several edible leaves and branches.
It was not long before she reached the familiar place. But, she stopped as she noticed rope stretching from the shelter connected to a wooden stick supporting a hipbone tied together with some shoulder blades, jaws, and any remaining bones to increase the surface area. Then, it was weighted by a rock. Five birds were already there, picking a single seed with each peck.
Then, she had her eyes to the shelter, a tail with armored black scale just poking out slightly, waiting for the right moment
Intrigued, she decided to wait.
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
It was not long before one bird moved deeper under the weighted trap. Yet, the owner of the tail still bid his time.
The bait were still plenty.
Two more birds flied down, joining the small feast. One even moved under the hip bone. Still, he did not yank the stick.
Then, four birds were directly under the bone.
The tail yanked sharply.
The stick was no longer supporting the bone. The weighted hip bone collapsed, crushing two birds and crushed the third bird’s left wing. The rest took flight into the sky, fleeing in terror.
Umbra came out slowly from the shelter, limping and using the wooden staff as his walking stick and still being supported by both his tails. He walked one step at a time.
The trapped bird continued to flap its remaining wing, hoping to get out, yet it was futile.
Umbra sat down and drove his index finger’s claw into the bird’s neck, finally ending its life. He then collected the two crushed birds and made sure that they were dead by slicing their necks.
She could see that both birds were still twitching when he drove his nail into their necks.
Then, he reset the trap.
After making sure that the set stayed, he got up with a loud grunt, almost falling over but his tails stabbed forward and pushed his body straight. Just like that, he returned to the shelter.
Tristia crawled in to see Umbra was plucking the birds off their feathers by scraping them with his tails.
“Umbra…” she called.
“Hrg…?” he stared at the entrance. “Fogh…”
“I know… but, you forgot to add more bait.”
He tilted his head.
“The trap.”
“Rgh…” he sighed.
“I’ll do it. Good call though…”
“Thrng…”
Tristia scattered more bait under the contraption, her eyes then shifted to the trap.
It seemed that Umbra had twisted the fabric into short rope and tied them all up together, creating a stronger structure at the cost of its length.
In addition to that, Umbra had also made several nooks, chipping, even several long grooves every now and then in every bones. The rope now was able to sit comfortably instead of shifting whenever bit by any outside pressure.
She looked under the bone where the stick made contact.
Three grooves were and some chipping were seen.
In the end, all of them were unused and Umbra simply positioned the stick to be able to just move out of the way if it was pulled.
However, the stick still bugged her mind
“Hm…”
Not the end that held against the weight, but the other side that was on the ground. It was directly at the soil, not a rock.
Even right now, the weight alone was pushing the stick deeper into the ground.
She looked around, finding a small and flat rock.
She dug the rock out, then dismantled the trap and immediately reset the trap back up. The position was similar, but now, the stick was sitting on top of the rock.
She returned to the shelter.
Umbra was still removing the feathers. As she moved closed, Tristia just noticed that the birds were actually decent in size.
They initially looked so small because they were being carried by Umbra.
“I’ll help,” she grabbed one of the bird and started to pluck the feathers.
“Fegh… gher…”
“The feathers? It’s annoying, I know…”
“Burng…?”
“No… don’t burn it. I’ll handle this. Can you dig deeper hole over there?”
“Hogh…?”
“Yeah. See it first.”
Tristia gut the birds while Umbra dag more and more at the hole that she made more than a week earlier. “Grh…”
“Just as long as you can carry the soils out. We need to make roof, too.”
Tristia then dumped two handful of feathers mixed with soil into the hole. She then continued to make a mud ball mixed with ashes and some organs.
“Hrg…” he stopped her hands.
“Guts and waste. They’re the stinky part… so unless you want them raw.”
He nodded and let her continue. “Wagh… gher…”
“Yeah… we rather save water for now.”
“Can you throw this faraway?” she handed him the mud ball. “Ain’t matter where, but away from us.”
He nodded, slowly getting up with the help of his tails and the staff.
“Thanks…”
He walked out slowly, then stopped. He coiled the ball with his tail. His tail lashed out quickly, launching the mud ball far away.
The mud ball briefly retained its shape, before scattered everything away.
He stared.
She gave him a thumb up. “Good enough.”
Tristia stuffed some edible leaves into the birds’ stomach cavity, and then smoked them by the fire. “Hm… Umbra, can you flatten the other one?”
“Grh…?” he pushed his body weight into the bird with only broken wing.
“Perfect.”
As they waited for the meal, Umbra made the roof while Tristia made more shape with the soils.
At first, Umbra selected some branches that were long and rather flexible. He weaved the branches into the roots, forming a roofing structure for the mud to sit on.
Tristia formed more mud bricks, similarly to those for the wall, but thinner.
“Use this as the base, pile it all up again,” Tristia said, “and don’t forget to leave a gap for the smoke… ain’t wanna suffocate, eh?”
Several flapping sounds were heard.
They looked outside.
More birds were on the traps.
“Desperation…” Tristia sighed.
Umbra stared at her.
“It’s summer. So lots of their young hatch. More mouth to feed. So, they start taking risk…” she grabbed the rope connected to the stick. “For now, just take what the land gives, eh? We can’t always do this kind of shit.”
“Whargh…?”
“Well, they’re prey… so are us,” she sighed. “Still remember Skin Wolves?”
He shook his head.
“Skinny and furless wolf with four jaws?”
He opened his mouth, then nodded.
“We’re in their area… so, ain’t want to force you to recover fast, but…” she shrugged, “we ain’t exactly safe right now.”
The trap yielded two more birds.
Since it was still noon, Tristia decided to reset the trap one more time.
The process then repeated.
As Umbra was still plucking the feather, he suddenly froze. He still held on to the feather and the bird, but he did not move. It was almost as if his body just… paused.
Tristia, unaware of this, was still animated with plucking the other birds.
It was not until she finished and looked up. “Umbra? Are you—”
No reaction.
She sighed softly and moved to his side. “Umbra,” she tapped his shoulder.
He jolted, looking around. He looked confused then caught her at the edge of his eyes and stared at her.
“You alright?”
He opened his mouth, “Rh… nogh?”
“Bloody hell…” she sighed. “Do you still remember me?”
He shook his head.
She took a deep breath. “Snarky crossbow woman?”
His eyes widened.
“So, now you remember?”
He nodded.
“Okay… look, I ain’t forcing you to—”
He raised his right arm, and immediately noticed his stump. He looked at the stump then her repeatedly. “Mrgh… argmh…?”
“Yeah… you ain’t remember that…” she sighed. “So, you wanna hear what the hell happened or not?”
******
Male: Research Log 9. Agent: Creep. Class: [REDACTED]. And I am here with [REDACTED]. Okay… so, introduce yourself.
Female: Name: [REDACTED]. Class: [REDACTED]. Just those, right?
Male: Yeah, so she will be here to help with the recovery analysis… I have the permit from the [REDACTED] for her to be here.
Female: Do you really have the permit? Or do you just want to see me?
Male: Hon…
Female: Okay, sorry… focus.
(A cough)
Male: Great… so, what can you say about this session based on your expertise?
Female: In one word. Interesting. I think the best term to what happened with Umbra… sorry, Subject 0 is post-traumatic confusional episodes. Do I just talk whatever I want or…
Male: Up to you.
Female: Okay. So, five days recovery is really fast… and him only having three episodes after his awakening so far is… way… way above human’s standard, especially without medical assistance.
Male: The episode. Does it always result to this… state? I still remember the episode that the first episode, he just paused.
Female: Depends. Most of the time, it depends on the subject’s condition. Are they well-fed? Are they hydrated? Do they have enough sleep? If the answers to those are mostly ‘yes’, then the episode will be milder. And, normally vice versa… but for this latest episode, I think he became more lucid… but his memories became more fragmented.
Male: So, he will become more aware of his condition but without knowing how?
Female: Most likely, yes.
Male: Noted. Next… what do you think of the operation?
Female: Operation?
Male: The bolt removal by Subject 1.
Female: Oh, that… we can barely call the bolt removal an operation… it was first aid treatment at best. And CSF, or cerebrospinal fluid leak, as you may have identified, means that his frontal lobe was breached. But… by pure speculation, removing the bolt actually saved his life.
Male: Do explain.
Female: Just speculation, okay?
Male: Go on. Just state if it’s hypothesis or speculation.
(Sipping coffee)
Female: Okay… once again, speculation. The secondary TBI normally force the brain to swell even more, increasing the intracranial pressure, hence why his left eye was bulging. So… the CSF leak and the hissing probably released the pressure by letting his brain to expand. And about… wait, you said they both have antimicrobial traits, right?
(Placing mug on the table)
Male: Well, in session 5, a fly just died when they came in contact with Subject 0’s flesh and ants also avoided their severed limbs altogether.
Female: That is one potent agent. I wanted to say infections was the only other danger. But if both of them have antimicrobial trait, then… it is within plausibility that they survived without any infections.
Male: So, this… poisonous agent should be on everything?
Female: It should be on everything. Flesh, blood, or any bodily fluid.
Male: Anything final note, then? His speech? Gait? Origin?
Female: He was just recovering… I can’t say much for now. And for his origin… I did have theory from how his tails’ motor function recovered faster compared to the main limbs.
Male: What of it?
Female: Once again, just hypothesis… he’s genetically engineered. Correction… he is likely one of the descendants of man-made genetically engineered entities.
Male: Any reason why you said that?
Female: His traits are overlapping, and should not be possible in nature unless tampered with.
Male: So, Subject 0’s ancestor is similar to [REDACTED]?
Female: Wait… [REDACTED][REDACTED]?
Male: Yes, I thought I told you about it.
Female: Must have been misheard. Huh… interesting.
Male: Anyway, back to the simulation.
Female: Alright… So, that is my reasoning. His traits are so overlapping that I don’t think he is a natural product of evolution. Mountain People, on the other hand, is still plausible, which I assume that their osteogenesis is different, and the nictitating membranes are still within plausibility.
Male: So, there must be a whole different reason of Infernal’s race existence?
Female: Well, you put a Demonoid into a non-supernatural world… of course, the simulator will make a whole reason behind them.
Male: Huh… interesting. Noted.
(Scribbling)
Female: So, do you want to comment about their survival trick?
Male: Not really, Subject 1 has always shown knowledge of tribal nature. Oh, speaking of that… listen to this.
(A small pause)
(Several faint female dialogues)
Male: Can you differentiate their accents?
Female: Do repeat.
(Several faint female dialogues)
Female: It’s there… Subject 1’s accent is just slightly thicker… the ‘r’ and ‘b’ especially are slightly more vocal… just barely.
Male: Well… ‘bloody’ and ‘arse’ are very much her common swear words.
Female: Yeah, especially those…
Male: Then, I should write a proposal to have it tested if others noticed that or not.
Female: That should be my field, shouldn’t it?
Male: Ah, right… then, I’ll leave you with it, then?
Female: Alright.
(A brief pause)
(Scribbling)
Female: So… is there something else?
Male: For now? I don’t think so.
Female: I also don’t have anything else… at least for now. I’ll update on you if I had more thought if you share me the data.
Male: Perfect. As long as [REDACTED] allowed then, I should be able to hand you the data.
Female: Great, then.
***
Research Log 9-2
Agent: Creep. Class: [REDACTED].
I forgot to mention this.
For this session, the simulator was running at five times speed and later four times.
Above five times speed was a little glitchy unless there were barely anything happened such as when the Subjects were sleeping, but four times was the ideal speed during training or everyday activities.
One reminder is that the current setting will return the play speed to normal speed whenever a conversation happened.
That was all.
