The intentions of the interlopers were written as clear as the noise they were making. They were attacking the door, just as Father attacked me in training. For them to show such disregard for a mundane object told me that they were likely to have an even dimmer view of my existence. Either I was to be captured or erased.

I would allow neither.

Eventually, the door gave out. Brand new smells washed through to me, filling my sensory nodes with an overload of… niceties. Pleasant things that were briefly broken away as the scent of sweaty flesh and unwashed body odor pushed its way through, just as the intended assassins did.

I was not standing out in the open, ready to greet them with open arms, however.

Lantern light set the hallway awash in bright amber. Footsteps of two, possibly three figures. Tentatively, they approached slowly. Didn’t know what I was truly capable of. Perhaps envious of the radiant lantern, I too was about to enlighten them.

“Where’s the fuckin’ tin can?” the first man spoke in a rough, guttural tongue. Much harsher than Father.

“Shut your trap, asshole. Thing can hear and speak.” Second voice, similarly male but slightly higher in tone.

“Yeah, so can you, shithead.”

I did not know of some of these words that they spoke. Regional dialect or slang was my assumption. The reply from the first man was murmured, as if he got the point but required having the last word. Tension and nerves, other things I did not have to hold me back.

They had reached the lab now, their eyes turning to their left to glance at what the lantern had picked up. On the workbench, I had arranged some of the schematics into a hastily folded pyramid. With blank ink I had written upon it, albeit in handwriting I was not proud of. No time to sit and relish the opportunity, as I had to go hide in the hallway to Father’s room on their right.

“Decoy?” the gruffer man read out, the five letters legible enough, at least.

Before the second had a chance to gather his thoughts and give his expert opinion on my handwriting, I was out. Darted into the lab with two long steps.

They turned, briefly surprised. Odd wooden and metal contraptions in their hands like miniaturized bows. Swords or daggers on their hips. Shock and anger in their eyes.

My axe was already in a wide upswing, with both the length of the weapon and my long arms enabling me to strike them immediately. It caught the small bow and knocked it from his hands, the blade of the axe catching him under the chin. Split through his lower jaw and wedge in the upper.

I withdrew the weapon to flourish back into both hands. The struck man put his hands up to his face, horror and agony overriding his need to kill me. Just behind him, the other assailant fired his weapon. It struck me in the check, fragmenting part of my torso before dropping to the floor.

As I stepped closer to him, he immediately let go of his weapon to draw his sword. In his other hand, he brought up something that looked like my talking stone, but this one was red. Evil. It began to glow.

I leaped into the air toward him, unhappy that he brought another stone to my home before I had forgiven the first for betraying me. His sword came up to strike at me, and I allowed it. The aim was incorrect. Too low. As his weapon slashed into my hip, my axe struck the offending forearm holding the red stone. Broken bones and rent flesh, but my weapon was not sharp enough to fully dismember him.

The stone clacked to the floor and rolled away from the combat. Trying to escape me while I was preoccupied, no doubt.

I spun to my right, a wide arc to my slash as the axe connected the first man again. Side of the head he was trying to hold together. I made that a lot more difficult. Despite his injury, the second man struck me in my open side with the sword again, as his eyes darted around the floor for the missing rock.

That attack did strike something I would deem necessary. Some pipe or vein analogue that left my right side feeling uncomfortable and stiff. I stepped toward him and rammed the blunt end of my weapon into him, before turning the blade end around to give him a light slash across his chest.

Crimson soaked through the now-tattered linens he was wearing. His sword arm lagging due to the pain. Disbelief in his eyes - but it was his own fault to come unprepared and outmatched, not mine.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I gave him an answer in the form of my axe embedded in the middle of his head. Not really the sort of answer he sought, and perhaps I had doomed him by never revealing that information to him. For a moment, I stood and watched him collapse beside his companion. Their blood pooled from their bodies and made the floor wet and red. At least it would match Father’s room, now.

From their bodies I took a belt, which I affixed two daggers on my left hip and a short-sword on my right. The axe had become a fast friend in trouble times, but it paid to be prepared and these two weren’t using them any more. The rest of their possessions did not interest me, aside from the small bags fill with golden metal discs. I put them both in my backpack.

As I leaned against the workbench, I raised my wrist to look at the star. This time, I held it down a little longer.

[Soul Upgrades]
[Souls: 3]
[Buy Minor Skill (Req:5)]

[Lifetime Souls: 3]
[Upgrade at 10 Souls]

Some of the information jotted down in the ledger made a little more sense. I could spend the souls allocated on powers… but they weren’t set. Only organized by power and cost. Five would get me a Minor Skill, and presumably after my first it would reveal the next stage up.

My grand total soul count seemed to eventually give me power boosts as well. Seven more sinners required to see how that worked out.

I rubbed the side of my head, where my auditory sensors were. As of yet, I wasn’t sure if this system was a benefit or a hindrance. Certainly, Goreblaster never needed progressive power enhancements based on his performance. No points to be gained in that line of thought, though.

Down through the hall, a breeze. Now I could hear it all, smell and feel all these new sensations. Even before estimating my battle damage, I stepped away from the lab and into the hallway.

It was dark out, to the point where I almost thought our home extended on for much further than I previously knew. But now, there was a rustling of… leaves - yes, I could see trees out there. The muted grays and greens waving around in a breeze, just before the wave of cool air hit me. It tickled my sensors and put the bloodshed even further behind me.

I stepped down the hall slowly, apprehensive now to take my first steps into the world. Halfway down, I stopped to look in the mirror there. My flat, glass face of deep gray didn’t give my feelings away. The soft amber of my armor was flicked with bright red. Amongst my joined, deep blacks and browns. I nodded to myself, as if giving permission for what was about to happen.

And then, my feet took me out across the edge and into the outer world for the first time.

It was overwhelming, so I just stood there. Letting my sensors take everything in. The visuals of the swaying trees and how the wind moved the grass and other foliage about. Smells. Damp grass, mud, and fresh air. I was content.

With little ceremony, I turned around and walked back into my home.

As enamoured as I was with the world so far, I had to be more realistic. To start with, I needed to repair a tube on my side. Back to the workbench, I pushed the decoy papers onto the floor, briefly covering the two corpses. I dug around in my backpack for tools and then tried to turn my head to see the damage. It was inconvenient as I did not have the full flexibility.

I shuffled over to the mirror and tried a couple of different angles before I got it. A new piece of tubing clamped into place. That area, at the back of where my ribcage should be, seemed like it could do with more armor plates. A little late to inform Father, unfortunately.

The cracked pieces of my torso received a healthy amount of a paste he had devised. I’d need to ration that just in case there wasn’t a way of getting any further down the line. It was flexible enough that I walk while it set, which was convenient, as that was what I was about to do.

Back out into the open, I looked out into the gloom of night. Adventurers often met in taverns, as far as I knew. It didn’t seem like the most efficient way of doing things, but it wasn’t really my place to say, having lived in a…

I turned back to where I had spent my entire, if relatively short, life. Some manner of obfuscation had been attempted, and it was built into a small hill.

A bunker, perhaps.

From where I stood, there didn’t seem to be any obvious taverns in sight, so I relented the purported second best way of getting into adventure. Wandering aimlessly in the wilderness. If Goreblaster was anything to go by, the wilds of the world was practically teeming with monsters and the malicious ready to shake you down and remove your head just for looking like too much of a good-guy.

Did I look good?

I resisted the urge to go back to the mirror and check. The bodies painting my house crimson might disagree, but I felt reasonably good. I certainly had a different face than the three, so I might be the odd one out.

Misadventure won out, and I started walking. Amused at how soft the dirt was. I leaned down to feel the grass. Walked up to a tree to feel the rough bark and smooth leaves. How nice to be greeted by these new textures right outside my home. Past the trees, there was a slight decline, and I walked slower down the hill to maintain my footing. Beyond this obstacle was running water.

Nothing like the taps at home - this was almost a dozen feet wide. Carefully, I sat by the side of it and lower my feet into it. I could feel the pressure and some chill to it. I pulled them back out, a brief of anger shooting around my tubes. Father knew this was a short distance away at all times, yet kept me from it. I was not allowed to experience anything but the vocation they were training me for.

I stood back to my feet and rested the axe over my shoulder.

Well, I hoped to find those responsible one day, so that I could show them how effective their war machine truly was.