My heart fair skipped a beat when I spotted the first one, all the rumours I’d heard of this strange place flooding back all at once. Still a day away from the newly established capital of Renewal, we flew over a small village, scarcely more than a handful of farmhouses built next to each other, unremarkable in every way. Except for that one, key detail.
The anthill!
Quite a remarkable sight, dear reader, even for one as well travelled as I. Nothing like a crude pile of dirt that the word might evoke in your mind, not at all. This was a masterpiece! A hundred metres tall if it was an inch, every part reinforced and compacted until it gleamed like polished stone. And the carvings! Remarkable. Hundreds, thousands of skilful, expressive, and detailed images of such quality, my eyes couldn’t quite work out what they should focus on and what should be ignored. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.
Then of course, there were the ants themselves. I could only spot three, peeking out the top of the ‘hill’, watching as we flew over. It quite whet my appetite, I must say, and it was with rising anticipation that I awaited our arrival in the city.
You know your Tolly, reader! My thirst for adventure is unquenchable! Await my next missive, in which I detail my first impressions of possibly the most remarkable city in the world!
What a strange and curious thing… Examining the core reveals both more and less than anticipated and gives me my first insights into the sorts of possibilities in the fourth stratum. I’d been told little scraps of information by Granin, who apparently spent very little time there as a younger, sprightlier shaper on an expedition with his superiors, but to get hold of a core and see it for myself…
I didn’t even think some of this stuff was possible! And these are the sorts of creatures I’ll run into when I get to the fourth stratum? Holy heck! I’m starting to resent my start as a lowly ant hatchling even more, though I suppose it worked out alright in the end.
I mean, take a look at this! Apparently, a Water Spirit… thing… actually does have organs, although obviously not of the sort I have, rather they appear to be immaterial, or part of the water itself, somehow?
For example, let’s think about musculature. I need muscles to move around, that much makes sense, but how does a giant wall of sentient water with a face on it move? With magic, naturally, but said magic needs to be channelled and directed in order to be fit for purpose. That’s where the Tidal Mass Manipulator organ came into play! It allowed the spirit to create micro ‘tides’ by shifting the water within its body around, allowing it to move. Then came the Liquid Shaper, a different type of water within the body of the spirit that could mould into different shapes. I think this was how it was firing bolts of water at us, by forming a pressure cannon out of this stuff and then blasting away.
There appears to be quite an array of fancy core attachments as well. Ethereal organs that are more akin to magical constructs than flesh and blood. One for attracting and moulding the water, one for permeating Mana throughout the body, gradually changing the water into a… I don’t know the technical term here—magical water, I guess? It infused every drop of liquid the spirit absorbed with Water Mana, strengthening it and giving the creature better control. At least, that’s what I think.
All sorts of different bits and pieces I hadn’t even considered before. The idea of being able to have a body that is essentially powered by Mana alone… I suppose it makes perfect sense as you get lower down and the Mana becomes denser, but it’s a different thing seeing it for myself.
Does this mean Crinis might eventually be able to transmute her entire body into actual shadow? Just be a living shadow and jump out of the dark at people? That’s terrifying! Or Tiny—could he just make himself into lightning? That would be… that would be rad as heck…
What about me, then? What might I become? What am I already becoming? Maybe I’ll turn myself into a sentient black hole, just floating around sucking up people. Wait, that sounds wrong…
At any rate, fascinating stuff!
I flag down a passing scout and have them deliver the core to the core shapers. They’ll be more than a little eager to get their mandibles on it, I’ve no doubt about that. We check in on the pupa to find that she’s nicely developing away. This time, we leave Crinis behind to babysit and head out into the breach, keen to improve our Skills and drive back the wave.
Hopefully this mess will be over soon, and we can all get back to more regular action. I for one am more than a little excited to return to the third stratum and have a better look around. I’m sure there’s a heap of cool things to see down there!
87. The Boiling Rage
The heat was pervasive, radiating out from the rock, from her own suit and the open pits of flame that guttered and belched smoke in the distance. With a grunt of effort, Morrelia brought her twin blades forward, driving them straight into the chest of a frothing demon, then smoothly withdrawing the glimmering steel.
With a flick of her wrists, she sent the bubbling ichor of the monster hissing onto the ground, where it boiled away, the stench of it rising as a vapor and clogging within her helmet. She growled. Just what she needed. Teeth bared in a rictus snarl, she seized hold of that anger, that rage, and drew it out of her belly, through her chest and into her arms. It hurt. A wrenching pain that pulled at her very bones, fuelling the rage and driving it to greater heights as she channelled it.
With a final shove, she cast it into her blades. The two swords flared with violent red light as her anger took root in them, resonating with the metal and magnifying her anger until it was all she could feel, all she could see.
She didn’t know how much longer it was until she came to with a start, a large, armoured hand resting on her shoulder as she breathed heavily, surrounded by slain demons.
“You need to be more careful,” came her father’s voice from behind her. “It’s a dangerous Skill to use without the proper precautions in place.”
She nodded silently as she braced herself. It hit a moment later, the overwhelming lethargy that came with the loss of her berserker rage. Her hands began to shake, and her limbs went completely numb. It was all she could do to sheathe her weapons, needing three attempts to line up the first sword with her scabbard. Knowing how she felt, her father didn’t say anything else, merely led her back through the lines and into camp, where she lay on the first cot she found, not even bothering to take her armour off.
Titus chuckled at her, and she weakly flipped a hand at him in protest.
“I was just thinking of your mother,” he clarified. “She was often left in this state when she channelled the rage.”
He sat on a bench nearby, his own Abyssal Armour ringing like a softly struck bell as the plates shifted against each other. She couldn’t help but frown. When was she going to get a set like that? Her own armour was excellent, of course, but her father’s was the real deal, forged hundreds of years ago from the best materials the Legion possessed. It weighed a ton, but she was starting to feel as though she might have the strength for it. If she didn’t, she soon would, given the rate her Level was climbing.