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Chapter 8: Shelter

  [Level up! 2 > 3]

  I stood above the broken corpse of another goblin, looking at my increased level. I add its knife to the dozen strapped to me as I allocate two points to heart, and one to vessel.

  Lv. 3

  Heart: 5

  Power: 2

  Vessel: 9

  All my stats have increased naturally. I’ve scraped the bottom of my mana pool as I keep [Suppression] active on the little creature under my skin. My heart increased once, naturally, from fighting off the foreign infection.

  Now, with two more points, some of that pain fades. My blood vessels are healing, knitting themselves back together. I need to survive, and so, while I want to use my skills more, I put the points into heart.

  I shiver as my blood flows faster. I can almost feel myself become healthier. The dark thing starts to struggle even more, but the point in vessel has given me some more mana to work with, so I intensify my mental hold on it.

  ‘Suck it,’ I think at the creature.

  With the heightened stats, I also feel that tingling more clearly. There is mana inside me, in the air around me, and within my companions. I’m sure that it’s not the only thing that can fuel skills, but it sure seems to be what fuels most of them.

  It makes me wanna master it. To be able to use it. I reach out, but it’s entirely pointless. The mana in the air doesn’t respond to me at all, doesn’t want to be mine. All I have to use are the pitiful amounts appearing in my vessel, like water vapour condensing up against a cold window.

  Taking a deep breath, I keep moving. The others have killed their goblins. This time it was a group, and it’s only thanks to Norman that we’re unhurt. He’s rather good at casting his barriers at opportune times and stabbing the goblins who are busy with us while unnoticed.

  A barrier casting rogue. Jess is a butchering ice-mage. Bay is a controller, with some kind of stun ability. Thatch is a mix between a scout and a barbarian, Inu a supporter-juggernaut.

  What does that make me? I think I’ve barely scratched the surface of [Selection], but [Suppression] would make me a debuffer. I’m the person who softens up the enemies for the kill.

  I wince as my mind wanders, bringing it back to the task of stopping the thing that is inside my body. I can’t hurt it in there. Whenever I try to hit it, it moves, or squishes, unbothered. It doesn’t respond to cutting or blunt force.

  By now, I kind of consider asking Jess to freeze it, but I don’t think that’d go well with it still inside my body. Then, there is that new thing that I don’t quite like the feel of.

  [You have caught the Eye of the Creeping Darkness.]

  Waving my hand through the box, I watch as it falls apart into stardust and nothingness. But I remember. I look at the sky, full of thousands of eyes. Does one of them seem focused on me? I can’t tell. All of them seem to watch everything all at once.

  Thatch puts a hand on my shoulder. “You good?” he asks me, out loud, then leans in closer and whispers. “I don’t want to freak you out, Snow, but… I think there’s some kind of shadow thing inside you.”

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  It’s quiet enough to not alarm the rest of the party. I smile at his antics. “Yeah,” I reply to his first question, then I turn my voice to a whisper. “I know. It’s under control… somewhat. For now. You get it.”

  He gives me a long, quiet look. “Glad to hear it,” he says, then smiles brightly. And then, he backs off.

  That trust was why Thatch was my friend. Why I chose him, like I had chosen Inu and Opal and Sylves. Why I couldn’t let any of them die. Why I need to find Opal. But when we get to their apartment after a few hours of walking, it’s empty.

  No sight of my friend.

  I stand in front of the open, empty door frame for a long moment. Their apartment is a mess. Someone looted it, maybe one of their neighbours. But there’s no blood. Everything of importance is gone. No electronics, bedding strewn across the floor, an open balcony door, letting in the cold air.

  Inu puts a hand on my shoulder, and I let her, staring at the empty apartment. The sky is starting to darken outside.

  “We should… stay the night here,” I say. It feels so bleak. Like giving up, like leaving my friends to die. Opal and Sylves.

  “Fine by me,” Bay shrugs. “I’ll check to see if any of the other apartments have more bedding. Not keen to sleep on the floor.”

  Norman simply collapses into the messy bed. Opal’s bed. I’m about to call him out, but choke the words in my throat.

  Inu stands by me, and Thatch gives me a mournful smile as he sits on the floor, leaning against the wall.

  “They’re not here,” I tell Inu, and she nods.

  “Yeah,” she says. “Think they went looking for us?”

  I nod. “Maybe. They’re the heroic type, right?” A thin smile worms its way onto my lips at the thought.

  She chuckles at that. A tiny, warm noise. “Definitely. Who knows, maybe Sylves is with them.”

  A small bit of hope. “That’d be nice,” I say.

  Then, Jess speaks up. “Do you have your own family, Snow?” she asks. “You talk about your friends so much. Don’t you want to-”

  “Mom!” Inu interrupts her. She says more than that, but the damage is done. I’m not listening anymore. Their conversation fades.

  I don’t know whether Opal is alive. One of my friends. Inu, Thatch, Opal, Sylves. One of them might be dead. And she asks about my family?

  For a brief second, I consider killing her.

  I look at Jess and put the option on the scale. Inu is next to her, holding her shoulder. She’s talking, probably explaining. I take a deep breath.

  “Inu?” I call out, quietly. She looks at me, her eyes wide with worry. No fear. “I don’t mind explaining myself.”

  At that, she nods. “Okay,” she says. No questions. No pushing. She makes it so easy, I smile.

  “Jess. My parents live elsewhere. I don’t think my time is well spent worrying about them. Yes, I have more family. A brother and a sister. Aunts, uncles, all of that. But my friends? They live nearby. I can help them. People who I personally choose to be around,” I say. Every single word is true.

  She nods, slowly. “I… see,” she says.

  “Right. You see, I get to choose my friends. And I take that choice very seriously. I would die for your daughter. Without hesitation. I would kill for her, you understand?”

  Again, she nods.

  “That same thing goes for the others. For Thatch. For Opal, for Sylves. I choose to be friends with them, and so, I intend to stick to that responsibility,” I say.

  Her answer doesn’t matter. I’m not listening to it. The crawling, squirming mass of ink in my side is acting up again, brushing against my bones. Digging through my flesh like an army of maggots. It hurts, piercing agony. And I don’t [Suppress] the pain, not at all.

  Instead, I [Suppress] the thing. I minimize its movements and damage. Still, as I sit on the hardwood floor, leaning my back against the drywall, I let myself feel the pain. My face is neutral, unempathetic, and I reach into my bag, putting on my headphones, playing some music and tuning out the noise the others make. Then, I touch a hand to my side.

  It tingles. The mana in the air feels like faint pinpricks against my fingers. Hours pass as the others forage. I eat some more of the ranger store supplies, feeling the tingling mana contrast against the writhing underneath my skin.

  The thing moves in tune to my heartbeat. It eats my flesh, slowly, suppressed by my will.

  But I can tell one thing. As it eats me up from the inside…

  It’s growing.

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