Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) (15 page)

He assumed a horse stance.

“I WILL
NEVER DIE!”

He closed his eyes and focused his spiritual senses on the
world around him. If everything was fundamentally mana, then everything could
be transformed into it with willpower, understanding, and knowledge. This was
the root of Universal Mana Enlightenment. Thus, it followed, if everything
could be transformed, then it could be absorbed. This entire room and all its
contents were power waiting to be claimed! By the virtue of his Razor Spirit, he
claimed it.

The torture treatment machines disappeared and were
replaced by mana globs with their shapes. These flew into Eric. The walls of
the sub-rooms converted and followed them. Every section of floor other than a
direct path to the next set of stairs flowed into Eric’s body and soul, giving
him greater power. He opened his eyes and they shined with it.

“Enlightenment skill: Total Mana Absorption.”

 There were no more enemies but the ones in front of him.
All others fell to the second floor when the ground vanished under their feet.
He jumped down to meet them and plunged his staff into one of them. It paled
and fainted as he stole the mana in its body. Looking through the eyes of the
grendel, he saw only food around him; walking containers of mana. Then he heard
Annala scream, louder than ever, and he jumped back to the third floor.

Boosted by the additional mana in his system, he sailed
through the Order Shield and into the guard holding the crystal generating it.
The other three paused their torture to activate their own, but Eric was
faster. Pulling his staff all the way out, he slew them all in one stroke each.

Then he returned the staff to himself and turned his
attention to his lady. With grendel hands and grendel strength, he broke the
chains holding her in place. Then, with human hands and human tenderness, he
dried her tears. She hugged him.

Her seed of chaos continued its work automatically. The
points on her ears were easy to fix. Her hair was re-growing, but currently, it
was only ear length. The burn marks erased one by one. In mere minutes, she was
pretty as ever, but the hurt inside remained. She quivered in his arms and
cried anew.

“Do want to talk about it?”

She shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Eric listened for danger. Peter Conner was wrong about
grendel hating revelry. The truth was that they had exceptional hearing. His
grendel head was more sensitive to potential threats. A stray thought remarked
how it nicely complemented darkness powers. When Annala was finished, she wiped
her own eyes and looked about at the empty room.

“Did you do this?”

“Mana is mana be it solid or otherwise.”

“I see.” She pushed herself away from him and took a
breath. Then it was like she was back in a classroom.

“It is good that you destroyed them. Despite being
historical relics of humanity’s progress in Medical Mana Mutation, they are
still barbaric devices barely worthy to be called an ‘embryonic form’ of a
branch of medicine. It is both easy and simple to understand why my mother
seeks to expand the use of the more civilized and effective elven technology in
order to cast such antiquated models to the annals of history. They do not deserve
a museum.”

“No argument here.”

Eric recalled the wind sphere containing the Death Killer
bow, quiver, and the couple daggers. Dismissing it, he handed the contents to
Annala.

“Thanks.” She re-equipped and said, “Two more floors to
go.”

She walked behind Eric as they ascended the staircase to
the fourth floor. It was practical for the archer to take cover behind the
organic tank, but the true reason was that she was shaken by her experience and
overwhelmed by fear. To think that her ancestors went through something like
that; that there were people in her hometown that experienced that. It was constant
for years; just a minute was a fate she wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Then there was Eric. He was walking around with his
grendel arms and sniffing like some animal. Her mother told her of patients who
relapsed into monsanity and how it was often preceded by the human memories and
monster personality merging. If that were true, she’d rather be behind him with
her bow drawn and arrow notched.

After the horror of the third floor, both Eric and Annala
believed they would be ready for the fourth. They weren’t.

There were velvet cushion chairs and fluffy couches. There
were tables with coasters. Fabric of many textures and colors hung from the
walls, or were stuck into wall slits in rolls. Mannequins posed in fine
clothing. The only flaw in this luxury were all the slashes, debris, and bodily
waste.

Creatures that were otherwise human lounged about here. They
had paws and wings, patches of fur or scales. Some were bird-like with insect
wings or aquatic creatures with mammalian heads or tails. The one thing they
all had in common was that they were zoned out with mindless bliss on their
faces.

“Pleasure mist,” Annala spat.

“Pleasure mist?”

“That’s what Fog is called when it’s used for recreation.
It’s low-grade compared to the vapor that cloaks Mt. Heios, but it is still a
potent mixture. If these people were not monsters already, they would be now.”

Eric checked the room for danger with every sense
available to him. His Magic Eye looked for runic traps, his ears searched for
movement, and his spirit felt for hostile presences. Finding none, he stepped
forward. None of the occupants reacted. Annala stepped forward and the tile
under her feet flashed. Eric spun in place and reached for her, but it was too
late. The tile’s rune had already done its work. Annala stood transformed…

…Into a bride. Her armor had been reconfigured into a
wedding gown. The bodice wrapped around her chest and torso like it was tailor
made. The skirts, gauze, and petticoats were just long enough to graze the
ground and create an artful display. Gloves adorned her arms and golden
filigree circled them in a downward spiral down to the point of her middle
finger. Veil, hairstyle, make up, etc.; it was all custom.

“You look gorgeous.”

Annala blushed and smiled. “Thanks…” Abruptly, she turned
away and reached under the veil to tug her ear. The simple gesture commanded
his full attention. “Hardly the time and…. would never work….why does Mom have such
a function…surely they would—”

“What wouldn’t work? I know little about fashion, but I
think you pull off this look very well. I’d like to see you wear something like
it again in the future.”

Immediately, Annala became both immensely flattered and
intensely angry. Cheeks red with one emotion or the other, she thrust her arms
down and shouted, “Don’t say stuff like that to a girl unless you mean it! Do
you even realize what you’re saying? It can’t work because….It just can’t!” She
crossed her arms and glared, which, in Eric’s opinion, made her more appealing
than ever. “Even if it were perfect, which it won’t be because it’s
never
perfect, it would be fatally flawed.”

Eric blinked. “What do you mean? It looks perfect to me.”

Annala threw up her arms in frustration. “I knew it! You
don’t know what you’re talking about! You might never know what you’re talking
about. Mom said something about regressive personality shifts in subjects as
one of many reasons that her technology has been rejected in the past. You’re
not Eric anymore!”

She covered her mouth with her hands, but it was too late.
With one slip of the tongue, she had made a fatal mistake. There would be no
taking it back.

“Eric, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it that way!
It’s—”

“No. You’re right.”

His voice sent chills down her spine.

“I remember now. The human aspects of Eric Watley were
absorbed by the monster aspect. Child, Mage, Mercenary, Dengel’s successor; I
ate all of them. The core of my being is a monster and everything else is merely
accessories. My humanity is a veneer.”

“Eric, that’s not true. I spoke carelessly.”

“That’s why I can’t use darkness magic; that was Eric
Watley’s specialty. It’s why I can’t read; Eric Watley was the bookworm. It’s
why Mana Enlightenment is my best skill; I’m too simple minded to see anything
but edible mana.”

She cupped his face in her gloved hands and locked their
eyes.

“You
are
Eric Watley. You are my friend. I attacked
a reaper for you.”

Eric gently removed her hands and pushed her away. The hurt
in her eyes didn’t register as anything but mourning for her dearly departed
human friend.

“That was before you realized the truth. Peter Conner was
right. You saved a grendel that looks and acts like Eric Watley, but in
reality,
it
isn’t Eric Watley.”

Annala clasped her hands as if in prayer. “Eric….please…forgive
me.”

“Am I a sapient or monster? Hope or Despair? What have I
done? What will I do? The Trickster grins. The Trickster grins. The Trickster
grins.”

Annala re-clasped her hands behind her back. They were
starting to fidget. She didn’t want Eric to see her nerves.

“I am a monster. I am despair. I have killed and I will
eat. Indeed, Tasio’s grinning right now. He must have thought it was hilarious
to see me claiming to be something I’m not. Why else would he allow this to
happen to me?”

“Eric, I beg you, listen to me—”

"Hello and good day!”

One of the mannequins came to life and bowed to them. Unlike
the others, it was free of claw marks and refuse. Only the decay of time
dragged on its plastic frame.

“Congratulations on coming to terms with your mutation. I
am the tailor for the Center. It is my job to give you the garments you need
for your new form and identity.”

Two cages descended from the ceiling. One was made of
steel with heavy and painful restraints while the other was made of gold with
light and comfortable ones. The tailor snapped his fingers and all the drugged
up monsters of the lounge stood up lazily. They drooped and slouched like
sleepwalkers.

“One of you is a puppet for a princess and the other will
become a prize for a knight. Please hold still for your fitting.”

Eric and Annala readied themselves for battle, but then a
hologram of Gruffle appeared.

"Give up, Grendel! Do you expect anything less than a
cage?"

Eric’s mind bottomed out. Despair rushed his mind and
squelched all thought. Gruffle’s words echoed and became louder as the truth sank
in. A cage was truly his future.

It might not have bars, but his room in the ICDMM was
indeed a cell. He was locked in there for weeks and only let out for tests. If
not in the room itself then the facility. There was no difference as long as the
scientists could experiment on him. The samples they took from him and the
feats he performed made them ecstatic. They were desperate. They wouldn't let
him get away. They'd pick him and prod him for data until one of them died.

Kasile had a different sort of cage in mind. It was her plans
for Medical Mana Mutation. As the Modern Demon, he was the gag to shut up all
her critics. He could see it now; the fire demi-goddess touting the virtues of
fire and connecting Tasio the Fire Bringer to her message. The three of them
would light the way to a future without mana mutation. Instead of a nobody
mercenary, he'd be a mascot and figure of hatred. Forever in the spotlight and
never in shadow.

His fellow mercenaries! They made a living fighting
monsters and his own teammate held this as a cherished dream! They were happy
he was alive now, but what about the future? They would fear him, provoke him, or
keep him at arm's length. The only possibility that scared him more was if
their fears came true and he lost control. Basilard, a senior magic knight with
a magic sword, struggled to subdue him. What about the others? A cage might be
the only way to keep them safe from each other.

Annala watched his breakdown from inside her cage. While
Gruffle distracted him, all the monsters and the tailor ganged up on her.
Between the elaborate dress and superior numbers, she was soon overcome. Now
she was on her knees with four cuffs and a chain connecting her wrists and
ankles. More chains wrapped her chest to pin her arms down. A noose prevented
her from struggling too hard and a gag prevented her from calling out to Eric.
Hot tears trailed down her cheeks at her helplessness.

It was all because she couldn't shapeshift. There were a
hundred and one things she could do if she still had access to that power. It
was something all elves were born with and yet she was as static as a human was.
She thrashed as violently as she could, but the cuffs held firm and the noose
choked her into obedience. All this made the tears come faster and she sobbed
into the gag. While she was carried away, Eric spiraled deeper into despair.

"People were suspicious and fearful of you already,
Trickster's Choice! Imagine what they will do tomorrow."

A dozen scenarios passed through Eric's head and made him
want to run away and weep. Only one piece of Eric Watley rose above the
despair. The poem could no longer help him; it only confirmed what he believed
to be the truth. He looked around the room and saw nothing but threats to smash
and food to consume.

Gruffle observed the change and sneered. Although his
hologram was torn apart at the mana level by the creature’s crystal claw, it
didn’t matter anymore. Eric Watley was no longer a threat. Now all he had to do
was wait for his boss’ new pet to arrive.

Samael entered a room filled with carnage. Through all her
uncountable years, she had seen plenty of them, and worse, but this gave her
special pleasure. It wasn’t every day that she welcomed a new reaper into the Death
Corps. Eric lunged at her claws first, but before he could blink, he was on his
back and pinned.