There was something special about holding a sword with the intent to use it. Something that Celia couldn’t quite put her finger on. Like some wondrous mixture of hesitation and anticipation. As if she were standing on the precipice, looking down the edge and into a world she would never come back from. As if these were her first steps all over again. The breaking of a boundary and walking into a new domain. 

And that hesitation, that moment of indecision and reflection, was a mistake. The parasites took it as a chance to rally, the two grouping together and putting distance between her and them as quickly as possible. Multitude of legs carrying them over fallen weapons and other tools. Out and into the maze that was the armory, vanishing from sight behind a still standing wall of bone and steel. 

But not from her nose. Nor her tremor sense. Which she swapped in, removing her camouflage horrific. The effect of which was immediate. Like putting on an old helmet, or walking back into an old house. Senses stretching beyond her and into the floor beneath. Ground becoming her eyes and ears. 

She found her prey in seconds. The two of them having split up, with the telekinetic one heading to the far left of the armory and it’s bigger brother heading to the back. 

Both scrounging about through some of the equipment left around. Both seemingly doing… something with it. And whatever it was, Celia couldn’t tell through her tremor sense. Only that they were doing things. And her instincts told her that it could be nothing good. 

So she went straight for the weaker of the two - the one with psychic like abilities - to finish it off first. Climbing over the piles of spilled over armaments and fallen racks that once held them. Accidentally bumping into a few sharper bits once or twice with her “definitely wider than it had been a few minutes ago“ derrière in the process. As she did so, however, discipline spoke. Instructing her in the ways of the sword. 

Or at least, how to connect herself to it. 

Extend your consciousness. Let the sword become your arm and feed it your strength.

Celia tried to do that. 

She really, really tried. Alas, connecting herself with an inert piece of sharpened bone wasn’t in her skill set, as it turned out. No matter how hard she tried, her sword remained what it was. 

A sword. 

“Okay is there like, anything more specific I need to do?” She asked, sword held at the ready as she got closer to her first target. 

Yes. You need to see yourself as a swordswoman and empathize with your blade.

“Empathize? How am I supposed to empathize with a sword? By relating to being a lifeless weapon?”

Attitude will only see this made more difficult for you. Simply keep trying. It’s not as if you’ll even need the blade to deal with these… parasites, we called them?

“Yeah. Parasites.” Celia confirmed. Internally agreeing with discipline’s assessment of the situation. 

The sword truly was overkill. 

Oh, you bet it is, sister. Vice chimed in. But it’s the best kind of overkill. The type you learn from. 

Celia couldn’t have agreed more. Taking the sentiment to heart as she finally closed in on the first of her victims. Finding the squishier and more magically - if that really was magic - inclined parasite eating a hammer. Pick like teeth biting into the implement of blunt destruction like it was cake. Ripping bite after bite out of the steel weapon. And as it did so, it began to change. 

First it increased in size, body growing bulkier, taller, larger in every sense of the word. And then it began to take on characteristics of the hammer. It’s own natural armor thickening. Knife like feet going flat and blunt, each limb transforming into a blunt square. She’ll taking on a metallic sheen as it’s metamorphosis finally came to an end. 

It reminded Celia of herself. Which she wasn’t sure how to feel about. There was the temptation to be outraged, or even disgusted by the similarity. But those feelings were buried by a cold acceptance of fact. 

Which was of course followed up by hunger and curiosity. Eyes momentarily turning to her own sword. 

Do not eat it. Please, I beg of you. Came Discipline’s voice. Instantly putting an end to what she was thinking. For now at least. 

And Vice would’ve said her piece too, if it weren’t for the parasite finally catching sight of her. Hissing as it did. Followed by the sudden appearance of a purple hammer midair swinging into her face. The blow hit her square, the force of it knocked off her feet, and onto her back and lower padding. Rump catching her and making the fall far more comfortable than it had any right to be. 

The parasite changed her mind about that a second later when it pounced at her. Straddling her with half of its legs. Stinger rising up behind it in the form of a sledge made of metal coated bone. A hammer that came down a half second later with all the speed and force of a falling star. 

Celia caught it with two arms. Grabbed its face with a third. And with her fourth she brought her blade into the fray, lifting the parasite by its face and slashing at its neck. A terrible cut that didn’t go through more than the outmost layer of its skin, and did little more than leave a shallow cut upon its armor. 

Which discipline explained to her was do to a bad angle. 

Celia listened to the correction while blindly swinging at the parasite. Blade hitting it with a sound like a saw being dragged across iron again and again. Each strike sending a jolt of panic through the parasite, causing it to flail its limbs at her as hard and as fast as it could. Most of which didn’t carry enough force to do her any harm, and the ones that did mostly smacked against her gut. Any power they had went rippling through her. 

Which taught Celia something new about having a bit of extra weight. 

A bit?

And that was that it doubled as a soft form of protection. Not nearly as good as a set of armor, natural or otherwise, but still better than nothing. Which was trailed after by another revelation about her new “fluff”. 

It gave her leverage. 

Enough to roll and bring the parasite rolling with her. The overgrown alien bug falling onto its side, where it briefly thrashed about in an attempt to get back up. Only to be thwarted by Celia trading places with it and placing herself on top of it. Gut pinning it to the ground as she lifted her sword up above her head with two hands, and then she brought it down. Blade colliding with parasites head, serrated teeth cutting through its armor and into its flesh, hooking onto it like teeth sinking into meat. 

And when Celia pulled it back, she felt it, a connection form between herself and the blade. Brief and fleeting, but undeniably there. It left as abruptly as it came. Parasite dying beneath her a second after that. 

She didn’t let the epiphany stop her from enjoying her meal. 

Modification gained!

Mimic sense!

Modification slots increased!

Slots open: 7 > 8

Celia didn’t hesitate to equip her new modification. Pain washing over her like a midday breeze, her resistance to pain much greater than it had been just a week ago. And then she felt her senses expand once again. 

Just not in the way she expected. There was no new angle to detect the world by. No new taste on her tongue, or sound in her ears. Instead, she could feel the value of everything around her. But even that wasn’t exactly accurate. It was more like she could detect how beneficial everything around her would be as a meal. Painting a dull purple glow over everything that told her their worth. 

And unsurprisingly, just about everything within a three meter radius of her, was worth snacking on. Which was very, very tempting. So much so that she felt her hunger in a new way. The experience suddenly illuminating how badly the idea of just eating sounded to her. It was a bit concerning actually. 

Which wasn’t at all helped by Vice whispering in her ear. Whispers she ignored. Choosing to remain focused on finding the other parasite first and putting it down. 

Then she could find an excuse to eat a sword. 

But first, the parasite. Which she found all the way in the back of the armory, gorging on every piece of weaponry it could get its hands on. And in the time, Celia had spent dealing with - and eating - the other one, that gave it plenty of time indeed. 

Enough time to become a living armory itself. Standing almost as tall as her, and covered head to tail in bits of metal bone and other materials she didn’t recognize. It’s body was also now lined with those same strange symbols she had seen back at the mountain marketplace. Which was definitely worrying, as she was pretty sure those were magic. 

Magic that was about to be redirected right back at her. So, preemptively, Celia did the smart thing and dodged. Jumping up the side as quick as her growing body could carry her. Which apparently, was not fast enough. As s blast of lightning covered the body of the parasite and propelled it at her at the speed of, well, lightning. At least that was how it looked as well as how it felt. As the parasite crashed into her like a bull going after red. It’s bulk sending her spinning sideways through the air like a rag. The entire armory spinning around her. 

Up until she crashed into a rack of spears. Tips thankfully pointed down. Which Celia immediately took advantage of, aiming a number of them at the parasite as it prepared to charge at her again. 

Only this time, the symbols on its body glowed orange and tasted of fire. Fire that erupted out of its mouth in a stream headed straight for her. 

Panicking, Celia cut at it with her sword. Blade parting the flames for a second. Seemingly drinking them in. And as it did so, Celia felt those flames it drank being transferred directly to her as if she had eaten it herself. And as it turned out, fire tasted surprisingly good. Filling her up quite a bit. 

Before they dashed past her sword and bathed her in their embrace. Their boiling heat they battered her in counteracted by her body healing from having “technically” eaten them. A careful balance broken as soon as the parasite realized it’s barbecue had failed to melt her into a stain on the ground. 

So it started launching darts of metal and bone out of its skin at her. Tiny sharp things that tore through Celia’s scales and dress. Biting into the vulnerable flesh beneath. 

It was the sort of barrage that she couldn’t just take head on and shrug off. No, she needed to move. And bereft of options, at least good ones, Celia charged at the parasite rather than away from it. The result was a hail storm of deadly shrapnel impacting against her. Four arms serving as a sort of barrier between the attack and where she was most vulnerable. Still, she was hurt. Body left a bleeding wreck by the time she made it over to the parasite. 

But that did little to stop her from chopping down at it with her sword. Teeth of bone biting into its skin. Dragging against as she pulled it away, leaving a series of shallow cuts. As if she had dragged a saw blade over wood. And at the same time, she brought her three other arms to bear as well. Striking it with her claws and skin-borne teeth. 

And for a moment, the parasite simply weathered her assault. Hunkering down as she rained attack after attack upon it. Each strike drawing a shallow cut of blood, but otherwise doing little more than that. 

Celia realized how ineffective her assault was a second too late. By then the parasite had already turned the tide. Spear tipped limbs lashing out at her in erratic patterns. Each blow barely deflected by sword and tooth, each salvo forcing her back by a few steps as they fought. And Celia was slowly losing ground. 

She could barely keep up. Barely keep track of the twenty limbs lashing out at her. No discernible pattern to recognize, but blind fury and the desire to see her dead. An arsenal of steel, bone, and flesh arrayed against her. Her defense crumbling beneath it. Buckling before the pressure brought to bear. 

But Celia had an arsenal of her own. 

One she awakened with a piercing note of song. The sound a high pitched blade that cut at the parasites senses, disorienting it for a moment. She took that second of distraction to kick it, enormous leg carrying more than enough force to shift it away from her. Creating a small zone of separation between them. 

A gap she refused to let the parasite cross. Tentacles awakening from the slumber and arraying themselves around her defensively. Skin slowly turning to steel and sharp edges, as her body turned to magma within. Spines of teeth erupting from her flesh. 

She became a weapon. An implement of destruction. If only to enable her hunger. Instinct taking over as she took a moment to analyze the parasite across from her. 

Runes flared. Some form of magic she didn’t know bloomed to life. Pillars of ice burst forth from the parasite’s skin. Pillars became tendrils. Tendrils became weapons. A sword. A spear. And a hammer. Each big enough to fit in the hands of a giant. And each came swinging at her with reckless abandon. 

Hammer fell first. Smashing against the ground where she had just been. A lingering tremor painting a picture of the damage it would have done to her had she been hit. 

Sword swept towards her. Passing over her head as she brought her body low. Butt pressing against the ground a second before she pounced. 

The spear came last. Thrust at her as she approached. Tip angled to meet her throat. 

Celia sang. Song causing ice to burst around her. Spear crumbling a second before it met her. What remained of it coming apart against her defenses. Steel flesh withstanding the blow with ease. 

The parasite reacted late. Didn’t realize she had it till she cut through one of its legs. Balance thrown off as it tried to back away. 

It was met with an inferno. Sword and claws infused with heat. Bone colored skin melting at her touch. 

But the parasite learned. And when it saw that retreat wasn’t an option, it responded with violence. A head butt that knocked her back. Stinger zipping towards her throat. 

Again a note of song tore through the world. A wave of sound that battered its stinger askew. Bladed tip stabbing into her shoulder instead and rendered one arm limp. Which left her with three. 

More than enough to bring this fight to a close. 

Knee rising with explosive force into whatever counted for the parasite’s chin. Head bobbing up as her sword came down. Dull tip impacting its crown with a crash. And then she punched it with the strongest right hook she’d ever thrown in her life. Fist plunging through its face like a knife into fruit. 

What came next was fire and heat. A molten explosion that poured out of her hand like lava pouring out the mouth of a volcano. It was agony and suffering. Felt like her hand was turning to mush as it bore the heat she poured into it and through it. 

But the parasite got it worse. Strength failing it as all its insides learned what it meant to boil. Body falling to the ground, legs crumpling beneath it like a spider’s. Any sign of life vanishing over the course of the next few seconds. 

And then it was dead. Her new Mimic sense painting it a vibrant purple.

Which was all the justification she needed.