188 The Bug In The System (2/2)

Even the force of gravity had been manipulated to accommodate their weakened bodies. By Reed's rough account, he weighed 15% less than normal.

It was not a recent thing, either. As far as Reed could saw, that weakness was inherent in them from birth. A ruthless curse of the flesh — that was the only thing he could perceive it as.

Life naturally did not approve of such a twisted development, which meant that it was something that had been inflicted upon them in some way.

Though it intrigued him, it wasn't something he had the time to look into at the moment.

Whatever beset the people of the West was at best an auxiliary concern for a later date, so Reed slithered away in between the shadows until he made it out of a labyrinthian complex of immaculate corridors and extremely dim greenish-blue synthetic lights.

A normal human would have been completely lost below in the world of near-darkness and abnormal silence. Much to Reed's annoyance, the people of the West were stoic and tight-lipped bordering the extreme.

He had heard nary a word from anyone after he took off from the Chosen squad into the depths of the subterranean installation. The fellows were more machine than man, in some respects, but Reed chalked their attitude up to the fact that they were probably military personnel of some kind.

They're well-disciplined soldiers. More than I'd expect such a... delicate race to have trained, but I guess this makes some sense, too. The greater the shortcoming, the more effort one will require to make up for it...

The big picture was not that difficult to assemble once he had gathered enough of puzzle pieces. In fact, he felt ashamed he hadn't come to the realization sooner.

Pitiful. So, so pitiful. That even a race as burdened as this — requiring environmental suits just to operate outside — was beset with the misery of having to fight against the Infestation.

Reed had heard of the fabled ”Diamond Men” from Velvund and the old tale about them, but everything that he had seen so far betrayed his initial expectations. But the name fit them well, all things considered.

Resolute bunch, these people. Diamond-hard souls; Brittle-glass bodies.

Onward Reed slithered until he finally broke out of the military complex and squeezed himself out into an enormous open area — a mountain range... that had been completely hidden away from inquiring eyes.

A holo-optical shield had been built around it, masking it with an artificial lightshow resembling a massive assortment of craggy mountains and sparse wildlife.

How very thorough. Hiding it away, but why go through all the effort? The fissures aren't outwardly attractive enough to warrant attention. Any normal person would have seen it and thought nothing more of it than a deep chasm.

No, wait. Why? It's not like their people would ever see it since they live inside of the mountains. Other Empires? Doesn't make sense.

The Dreaming Council rules them all — there are no secrets in Mulia for them. The royal families of the Four Empires are just proxies-in-name, figureheads for them. So, too, are the forces under their control, every Chosen alive.

It wasn't adding up.

Why hide this fissure? For their own safety, or someone else's sake? Or perhaps, for a reason that I haven't considered yet?

...It's so difficult to ponder all these things when you have the perspective of an amoeba.

Out of sight, Reed squirmed himself into a narrow wedge and began the unsightly process of reconstructing his body. For an outside viewer, it would have been a disturbing sight watch him shape flesh, bone, and blood, but for Reed, it was something... intimate.

It was a morosely humorous thing — a normal person would have been embarrassed about being seen naked, but Reed felt it embarrassing to be seen in a state of bodily flux.

To him, the feeling of being caught in a state of flux would have been akin to being caught in the middle of taking a shit by the whole of Mulia. The idea of someone seeing him right now filled his tender heart with dread.

Ah, to be nude... yet again. But I refuse this turn of events! I will not be known as the Streaking Prince. Fuck that. I'll not be remembered as a habitual pervert, not if I have a say.

Without the Mark of Responsibility, Reed had all but lost most of his affinity with Anima such that it no longer loved him. It no longer responded to his summons and in fact, even seemed repelled by his presence — a natural development considering the nature of his newly transformed existence.

But where Reed had lost his personal curse, he had attained something equally usable in return.

It had no name, not that Reed knew of, which made sense since he had probably been the only being to have ever successfully obtained it... without going completely insane.

He had given it a name in secret, the brand new ability he had manifested.

A boring name, really. Just a brainstormed term, not something he planned to use forever. Reed wanted to give it a cooler name, but gave up after a couple of minutes of trying to come up with a replacement.

Reed took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then...

A lonesome figure melted into the surrounding world until he completely vanished from sight. In this ethereal state, he was gone from the world in the truest sense of the world. No one would be able to find him, not even Chosen with Anima at their behest.

He called it... Logic-hacking. As in, hacking the world's logic to suit his interests. A gross violation of natural order and absolute heresy to all who lived under laws governed by Structure.

And he was starting to become slightly addicted to it. Not that he knew that was happening.