Chapter 78: Special

Chapter 78: Special

Maria moved her arm backward, getting further from me; a fist gripped my heart and squeezed.

My father's words sprouted in my mind, tormenting me.

"This is all we are good for, son."

Releasing the blast, whatever it was, had hollowed me out, emptied every ounce of anger and frustration.

Into the yawning void, despair rushed.

"I'm sorry," I uttered, a hoarse whisper.

I fell to my knees, my head down, unable to meet that horror-filled gaze.

My core felt scoured raw, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach.

"Please... don't leave. I get you might not want to see me again, but I promised I'd get you home safe. It might be dangerous if you run in the dark—"

Maria's tiny frame crashed into me, her arms encircling me.

At first, I felt nothing.

"It's okay, Fischer," she whispered.

She held one hand against the back of my head, petting my hair.

Still, I felt nothing.

She squeezed me, and despite my enhanced body, her grip was firm, unrelenting.

A spark of emotion stirred, like metal hitting flint.

"You're okay, Fischer," she said, rubbing my head.

The spark took hold, and an ember flared.

“Dad was right—maybe I’m worthless.”

I breathed in shakily, my lip trembling, and all at once, the cinder bloomed into a bonfire.

Grief gripped me, and my body heaved with sobs. I lacked the strength to hold the tears at bay, so they flowed forth, finding the cracks in the dam's wall and winding through them, blowing the hole wide open.

"You're not worthless," Maria whispered. "Only a fool would think so."

My hands fell from around my waist, and Maria seized the opening, wrapping her arms around my abdomen and pulling herself into my chest.

I encircled her small body with my arms and clung for dear life, like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to flotsam.

We didn't speak for what could have been minutes or hours.

Beside the pond, beneath the stars peeking through the destroyed canopy, we simply existed, holding each other close enough to become one.

My heaving breaths slowed with time, both the tears and Maria blunting the edge of the knife twisting within.

I breathed deep, held it, then exhaled all at once, a calm blanketing me.

Maria, sensing my despair had shifted, hugged me tighter, then rubbed my back with both hands.

She said nothing—neither did I, feeling the vague numbness that follows tears. It was a welcome sensation following my breakdown, like a weighted blanket on the soul.

Maria pulled back, looking up at me. I turned my head down, conscious of my red-raw eyes, but she caught my chin in one hand.

She hadn't the strength to stop me if I tried, but I let her guide my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, then, tentatively, opened them, seeing the world through blurred vision.

Maria stared up at me, her own eyes red and watering. She blinked, and a tear rolled down each cheek, reflecting the campfire's light.

She slammed into my chest again, squeezing like a vice. I held her back, and as she did for me, rubbed her back, attempting to give comfort.

"I'm—"

My voice was like two stones grinding together, so I cleared my throat.

“I'm sorry, Maria.”

She shook her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Stop apologizing."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She removed her arms from around me and shifted to the side, her hands around her knees as she leaned up against me.

I rested my head on hers, easily encompassing her tiny form with my body.

"So..." she said. "You're a cultivator, huh?"

I blew air from my nose.

"Yeah... I guess I am."

"How come you're so terrible at cultivating crops, then?"

I paused, my addled mind not hearing the joke at first.

Then, I barked a laugh. It dragged on, transforming into a choking wheeze as I let go of Maria, leaning back to brace myself.

Her musical laugh joined in, and it, too, escalated, a couple of snorts showing up for the performance.

She wiped her eyes, tried to start talking, but another giggle took her.

With one hand on her stomach, and the other wiping away tears, she let out a content sigh.

"I needed that."

I smiled at her, my vision clouded by tears of laughter.

"So did I."

"How long have you been... you know..."

"A cultivator?"

"Okay, now I can tell you're messing with me."

I held up both hands.

"No—I'm serious. They're both really affectionate."

She blinked at me, and seeing I was sincere, sighed her acceptance.

"The otter I can understand, but the crab...?"

"Well, you have to avoid her spikes, but she's very careful with them."

Maria leaned back on her hands, staring up at the night sky through the hole in the canopy.

"I'm not totally sure this isn't a fever dream of some kind. Were those berries hallucinogenic, and I'm currently passed out by the fire?"

I spun, joining my gaze with hers to stare up at the stars.

"It's real, I'm afraid. I just kamehameha'd an innocent tree."

"... you what?"

"Nevermind. Something from where I'm from."

I glanced at her.

"I'm surprised you didn't keep backing off and run away after that, by the way. I think most people would assume me a monster and retreat."

She shook her head.

"I wasn't backing away from you, Fischer. Despite what you did to that innocent tree, it wasn't you I was scared of, but the... what did you call it? Karma-farmer-hah?"

I barked a laugh, and she shrugged.

"The blast, I mean. My body reacted to the blast—that's all."

I tilted my head, smiling at her before returning my attention to the stars above, glimpsed through the hole I'd created.

"You're a special person, you know that?"

She scoffed.

"Says the man that turned trees into toothpicks with a single punch, and has not one, but two ascendant beasts as friends."

"Woah, you guys have toothpicks here? Tight."

I glanced at her, delighting in her scowl.

"You're so weird sometimes."

Her pronouncement held no malice, so I smiled.

"So are you."

She nodded.

"Thank you."

We both looked up at the stars above, the foreign celestial bodies both intriguing and soothing.

We'd so easily slipped back into our playful dynamic, but my outburst still hung heavy on my mind.

Maybe it's time I confront some of the things I've been avoiding...

***

The crab was dreaming, and somehow, he knew it.

He could see his body from above, as if a third-person spectator of his own form.

His carapace was translucent, allowing glimpses of channels winding below.

A red light shone from within them, pulsing from an orb of unbelievable brilliance located deep within his cephalothorax.

Wait... my what?

He shook his spectral head.

Nevermind.

His burgeoning awareness was growing at an alarming rate, yet it didn't hold a candle to the changes he knew were happening within.

The red channels were as the molten rock on the cavern's floor, and like the sheets of black rock that crumbled and were consumed, the winding veins did the same thing within him.

Parts of his body—his very being—were burned away, devoured and replaced by more of the glowing channels.

Unlike what one would expect, the process didn't bring pain, but a sense of elation; each section scoured away made him feel more whole, closer to his true nature.

With growing anticipation, he saw the channels expand, climbing down into the ends of each limb. The passages going to each claw were thicker and much more numerous, and he watched intently, absorbed in the hypnotic expansion.

The core within pulsed all the while, each thump radiating from it, reaching out and along the glowing-red veins.

As the process wound on, his carapace started to shine with the same hue. The channels carved deeper, and with each wave of energy, his body grew more and more brilliant.

Despite being outside of it, he could feel his body’s senses, and he delighted in the warmth that increased with each passing moment.

The power held within his core seemed to be running out with each flash, and suddenly, the process shifted. The pulse no longer originated from the core, instead radiating from the channels themselves, sending essence pouring back toward the orb.

The pleasant sensations disappeared; all that remained was pain.

He tried to scream, but his ghostly form had no mouth, no method with which to broadcast his terror.

The light coming from his carapace altered, turned from something light to something dark. He could no longer see the channels beneath as his entire form glowed molten red. Just as the rock below, sections of his body grew black, bulged and cracked.

He panicked, tried to run, to flee, but he wasn't in control.

Excruciating pain washed over him, and just as a white light started to glow from the gaps in his armor, his consciousness faded before the onslaught.

The blackness took him.