It fucking suffers.

  I’m sure of that much. I know it. My mana spins up to speed, whirring and hissing as it shoots forward into the monster. It grinds against its outer shell, against its insides, against its very nature as I pick it apart.

  [Class up! Deconstructor 2 > 3]

  Another point of vessel slightly restocks my reserves, and I pour all of it into [Deconstruction] immediately. The battlefield is now a tug of war. The parasite wants to keep existing, and I want it dead.

  [Deconstruction 2 > 3]

  [Class up! Deconstructor 3 > 4]

  Bits and pieces are stripped away from the parasite, and a tiny bit of their meaning is revealed to me. Tidbits about malleability, about shadows, mostly. I remember them, but I don’t let up. I wield [Deconstruction] like a grindsaw, tearing the thing to bits. Cut by cut, moment after moment.

  Until its mana runs dry.

  The little fucker is still alive. I grit my teeth. My mana is dead out, and I’ve almost killed it, but it’s still alive.

  It’s dimished. So much smaller. A little splotch of ink, compared to the parasite it was before. The bits of it that have been carved off are turned into nothing more than memories and smoke. Purple and black haze that leaks from the cut in my side.

  I pull at it a little, letting the gas escape faster. “If you get out right now, I’ll consider keeping you,” I tell the parasite. Not that it should understand me. And yet.

  The little parasite crawls out of me.

  That does surprise me a little, my eyes widening a tiny bit. Maybe if [Selection] can tell me things about a target, then that tether works both ways?

  My side is in terrible shape. The thing slithers out of my open wound, widening the gash even more, and a slough of gas leaves after it. But once it’s out, I don’t feel angry at it anymore.

  It invaded my personal space. I made it pay. Now?

  The little critter detaches from my side, falling to the forest floor with a pop. My mana is in crappy condition. I would love some extra to cast my botched healing, close up the wound, but I have none. Bits of it are still regenerating. Maybe in a few minutes I could squeeze out a healing spell.

  But for now, I look at the little once-parasite. It just kinda sits on the forest floor, munching on some grass. [Selection] still connects us. I tilt my head a little. “Can you do a spin?”

  No reaction.

  “Make some noise.”

  Nothing.

  “Hmmm. Guess I can only communicate general sentiment. Say. I’ll feed you if you listen to me.”

  It perks up at feed. Seems it gets that.

  Very carefully, I hold out a hand to it. Pitiful dregs of mana have gathered in my vessel, barely enough for anything at all, but I can cast perhaps the weakest [Suppression]. I do just that, making sure to numb my pain.

  The critter approaches and eats some of me. First, bits of my fingernail that I don’t feel at all, and pieces of dead skin. Then, the uppermost layer of living skin. That one starts to hurt. It drinks a bit of my blood, too, and I don’t particularly mind.

  [The Creeping Darkness is shocked at your actions.]

  I raise my gaze to the sky. Those words alone make it almost worth it. I look at the critter, and pull my finger back. It lets go.

  “You know, we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I can see us being friends.” This way, someone is getting something out of my healing practice. Do I care about the thing? Not really. But that’s okay. I can still take care of it.

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  “Can you hide in my shadow?” I ask.

  The critter responds to shadow, too. It turns into a dark blotch against the ground, infinitely thin. When it slithers closer to me, it and the darkness of the forest become one. “Neat,” I say, keeping the tether of [Selection] active. Using it to communicate. How nice.

  [Selection 5 > 6]

  With that level, I take a few more minutes to regain my breath. My mana regenerates. I cast a botched heal, a pathetic thing that is still better than any of my previous attempts, and it seals my wound shut. I feel blood collecting inside it, though, so I have to poke a hole to let it out.

  It’s gross, but whenever the crimson liquid drips onto my shadow, it vanishes. Is this recycling? Probably. Maybe. I smile at the silly joke.

  With the wound mostly sealed, I raise myself up off the floor. I feel filthy, but it’s still better than before. Plus, I have more pieces of spells or skills to dissect, memorizing the ones that my attack on the critter has brought me. More magic to do.

  Despite the pain, I smile, slowly stumbling back to camp.

  [Level Up! 10 > 11]

  Another supremacy level. I blink. Did I… tame the shadow thing? Defeating it seems to have been enough to be acknowledged for my supremacy. I showed the system I’m worth more than the parasite, to some degree.

  Regardless, this time, two points go to vessel, refilling my mana a little, and one point to heart. I observe the healing process as much as I safely can, then adjust my mimicry of it a bit, healing it from the inside out, this time.

  My eyes bleed a little, but it’s not trouble, surely.

  When I come back to the camp, the others have a small fire going. Thatch notices me first. “Holy shit,” he says.”

  Then, Inu sees me. “Holy shit,” she says.

  I tilt my head. [Suppression] is still running on the pain so it’s not that bad. Plus, the healing has already patched me back up a bunch.

  “Snow, you look horrible,” Opal says.

  “... You won’t believe me if I say it was a very intense toilet trip?” I ask. They shake their heads. “Worth a try.”

  “What happened?” Jess asks. She seems… worried about me?

  “There was a parasite under my skin since yesterday,” I say. “I took it out.”

  “There was a what?!” Norman yells.

  I tilt my head. “There was a parasite under my skin, Norman.”

  “You little-! And you didn’t think to tell us?!”

  “Please talk a little more quietly, I’m getting a bit of a headache,” I say, sliding down and leaning against a tree. The bark pokes into my back, but it’s tolerable. Better than nothing to rest against. I drink some water as Inu’s dad seems ready to strangle me. “I told Inu and Thatch,” I say.

  At that, he seems halfway placated, and halfway more angry. He turns to his daughter. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I-” she starts, but he interrupts her.

  “What if it had taken Snow over? What then? What if something had come crawling out of there, ready to eat us all up? In our sleep?” he snaps.

  Thatch leans forward. “Snow said it was handled.”

  Norman throws his hands into the air. “And what if Snow’d been wrong, Thatch? What then?”

  “Then we’d deal with it,” Opal says. Then, they yawn. “If Snow fucks up, I’ll do cleanup. So will Inu and Thatch. So will Sylves, once we find her. And so should you.”

  “Should I?” the man snaps, leaning forward. “Really? I’ve been dragged around by you for two days now. Killing goblins, luring armors, getting acid slime splattered over me. I’m sick of it!”

  At that, Jess looks at him. Norman tries to talk again, to yell some more, but the words stay stuck in his throat. Jess just looks at him, for a long moment, Norman’s body frozen. “Love,” she says, patiently taking one of his hands in hers. “Listen to yourself. You’re talking as if this will be over tomorrow.”

  Gently, she shakes her head. “I don’t think it will. I think this is our new normal. I think Inu has the right idea of it. We need a group, we need classes, we need strength.”

  “Jess, I-” Norman starts, but she shakes her head.

  “This isn’t about you, right now,” she says, whisper-quiet. “The world is scary. I want to keep our daughter safe.”

  Finally, he shuts up. Norman drops his head into his hands. “Fuck,” he says. “Fucking shit.”

  Somewhat amusingly, I note that we’ve gone full circle. I come back to being told I look like shit, and now Norman is cursing again. How silly.

  Seconds tick by quietly, turning to minutes. Opal yawns again. “Whelp,” they say, “I’mma sleep. Wake me in a few hours or if a wolf tries to eat my legs. Also if it’s something other than a wolf,” they add. “I thought I should specify.”

  Just as their head hits the ground, though, a breeze tousles through my hair. It leaves my forehead a little itchy, with the telltale sensation of mana.

  “Hello?” a voice comes from the distance. “I heard someone yell about a person called Snow. I think we might be friends. Do you know where to find them?”

  I recognize the sound carrying on the wind, and smile.

  “Come and join us, Sylves.”