Note: I give this writing 4.5 out of 10
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Kazar...no that wasn't his name any longer since he let man's body die at the hands of W...or whatever she called herself at the moment.
Regardless, of his name, it seemed he was back in his own personal limbo.

As "wonderful" immortality is, his version always came with an unwanted side-effect. One aspect of his talent showed each time he died in Terra, where it would manifest his mind inside the middle of an ocean. Currently, he was floating underwater, a place devoid of even the most abundant fish species, and waiting for his next "respawn". Time meant little here as he was forced to wait for his next vessel to become ready, which typically meant the total contamination of the vessel's nervous system and the creation of a crystal node in the target's brain...

The first time he entered the silent sea he was terrified, as the concept of drowning to death wasn't appealing, and the entire area was disturbing. There was no sound, no movement besides his flailing limbs, only water as far as he could see. It was through his desperate struggles to swim towards the surface he had realized two things. One, no matter how much he struggled he couldn't reach the surface, or more aptly he was "allowed" to until it was time. Secondly, he was able to breathe underwater.....or more accurately, there was no biological need to breathe as only his mind was in limbo.
The revelation that he wasn't going to suffocate to death, allowed him to calm down and analyze the watery surroundings. Eventually, he figured out he could maintain his position and calmly "float" inside the sea or dive deeper. If he floated upward he would catch glimpses of his next vessel living the last days of their lives before his specific strain of Oripathy sent them into a brief coma and allowed him to "Awake" in their body.

There was the option to swim deeper into the dark abyss below, as well. If he went far enough he would fully lose conscience, until he awoke in his new vessel. Overall, it was a strange sort of limbo that was thrust upon him, and something he was forced to adapt to. Today marked his 15th...or was it 16th arrival into his Marine-based limbo, the number being so large due to all the deaths he endured in Terra. It may have been only over two decades during his tenure, but the place was truly a shit hole of inequality.

Starvation

Murder

Freezing

Mining

He had suffered a wide variety of deaths and was well aware his sanity was dwindling with each vessel that passed on. Out of respect for those lives he involuntarily took away, he adopted their names the moment he parsed through their memories. Many were lowlifes that deserved death...but others were sons, daughters, children, spouses, family members of others.....and he was the one we took them away. Each time he floated within the ocean, guilt would consume his mind. The ever question of who he was, technically, going to murder acting as the pink elephant in the room.

A small part of him whispered defiantly in his ear, telling him why he was so willing to walk to his death earlier in a fight if he could escape through the window? If he was so concerned about taking over another body then he should do whatever he could to preserve his life no? Was he faking his guilt?
Anger flared throughout his mind at the intrusive thoughts, forcefully clawing at them and wishing they could burn. It wasn't as if he wanted to die, No on the contrary he wanted to live. But even when he begged, even when he ran, even when he went out to the middle of nowhere to live off the land death would somehow always find him.

He was originally a sick patient in a hospital, and before that he was a standard man living in a first-world country, getting fat and wasting his days away. How was he supposed to understand the true meaning of living in Terra when he first arrived? He was angry at whatever god forced him to relive the pain of dying over and over and over...

Squashing that line of thought he forced his eyes to focus on the images being reflected on the ocean surface above him. Even as the guilt squirmed in his chest like millions of worms, he ignored them as he looked upon the last days of his host. He would live for himself but he would try his hardest to live with the weight of their memory.

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Siracusa

Lily was feeling tired again, especially after helping package the next shipment that was bound to some country outside Siracusa. The foreman didn't bother telling her and the rest of the workers where the packages were being sent but everyone assumed it was being sent to Kazdel. Her clan was known for smuggling goods across the land, and considering the country next door was once again embroiled in a Civil War, they were the premier customer base of the Fang clan. The contents of the packages further pointed toward the notion, as each package seemed to have some hidden weapon interspersed between the "fake" goods that border patrol may open and see.

The package she was currently prepping held a heavy axed, blade well-made and coated in processed Originium to allow easier application of arts. If one were well-versed in their form of Arts, they could easily empower the ax blow to the point of shattering entire walls or entire bodies. Her wolf ear flattened against her skull with the knowledge she was willing aiding in the likely murder of some Sarkez...but frankly she held no real choice in the matter. She was a part of the lower dregs of the Fang family, the tier exclusive for day laborers or "cannon-fodder" if the males truly showed "promise". Lower tier families member would be "lent" toward any forces needing the occasional foot soldier they were lacking, with the word"lent" leaning toward being sold.
She didn't dare voice out her discomfort as her younger days in the family had drowned out that ember of retaliation. The one time she truly voiced out her discontent resulted in her being mauled by a higher-tier family member, with her losing over half of her left ear in the process and permanently crippling the hearing in that ear.

Unwanted, but still seeping to the forefront of her mind, the years-old memory was dug out as she was forced to remember that Night..

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6 years ago

Lily was distraught as she clutched her sick mother's hand. As she cried, her mind wandered toward the reason behind the illness plaguing her mother.

The year had been unforgiving toward the Fang family, with other families trying to weasel in on the smuggling business the family typically dominated in Siracusa. There was little point to question the sheer size of her family, as decades prior the family heads had chosen to allow quantity over quality. This enabled them to send out workers to keep multiple tabs on trade routes throughout Siracusa and allowing easier management of their illegal smuggling operations. For years, through the use of their ideology, the family had grown in prominence until they became the go-to family for any smuggling operation.

However, there was an issue with her the upper family's decision. The error stems from one fact: they sacrificed the fighting quality of each member. Close to eighty percent of the family were barely useful as cannon fodder and if push came to shove, most family members wouldn't be able to put up a fight. Only the inner echelon of the fang family held the capacity to fight on equal grounds with some of the smaller yet no doubt stronger mafia families. On paper, it seemed fine, as in case a skirmish happened the family would see the upper echelon to entangle with the fighters of the other families.

Yet, some of the smaller families had decided to band together to raid the Fang families store hidden storehouses and attack shipments headed out of them to customers. One opposing family would strike on shipment to lure the main Fang fighters to their location, while another family would strike a warehouse miles away and leave with all the pilfered goods. The heads of the family were outraged and rumor had it, they were pulling the hair off their heads trying to stem the flow of hemorrhaging money. Realistically, the family was well off enough to handle a few stolen shipments but the number of raids happening was putting both a dent in the family's finances and a dent in their reputation. A group of small-time families were pouring dirt on the supposedly most well-known smuggling family and it was causing customers to pick other competing families for "business".

The external pressure and need to show the outside world the Fang family was capable of holding their own, caused the heads to order an increase of operations across the entire family. Hours were layered upon hours, and this was what caused her already weak mother to fall ill. After working in packaging for close to 48 hours with barely any breaks, and multiple hours in the rain due to sporadic showers, she fell ill.

She tried her best to carry the burden for both of them but it was in vain, as her breaking point neared. It had been close to two weeks and her mother had gradually gotten worse. She had begged the foreman's for a doctor but the male Perro foreman denied her saying her mother wasn't pulling her weight and the family couldn't afford to waste time on slackers.

It had gotten to the point where the foreman had issued an order to vacate her mother from the small shed they considered home. Lily had begged for them to reconsider but they denied her, and now the foreman was coming tonight to forcefully evict her mother into the cold winter night.
Clutching her mother's feverish hand she cried at the injustice of being born in the Fang family, where lower-tier members were treated no more than dirt. It was true the family was prominent but only for those in the inner circle of the clan. She desperately wished her family was born in one of the smaller mafia families or a civilian family at least. Through the tears, a weak voice broke her blubbering.

"Lily....don't cry"

Sniffling and sucking in the snot dribbling from her nose, she wiped her eyes and raised her swollen eyes to meet her mother's gaze. Dark bags now graced her mother's once gentle features, as beads of sweat dotted her brow. For days her mother's fever had yet to break and for the last two days, she slept constantly, visibly growing weaker and weaker. Lily could see the immense effort in her mother's eyes as she tried to speak to her. It broke Lily's heart but she stifled the pain to talk to her mother.

"Mom..Im sorry I couldn't get a doctor, and ...and they're coming soon to take you away. *sniff* I don't want them to take you away Mom. I don't want that to happen." More tears began to tract down her face as her mother gazed at her.

"Dear..I'm sorry but I know my death is near...It's already a struggle to talk to you honey but please listen one last time."

Lily could only mutely nod her head as she listened to her mother, looking at the weak smile her mother showed her.

"I'm sorry you were born into the Fang family honey...I was always a part of the lower class of the family but your father was a great man, a part of the main vanguard of the Fang family at the time. He promised me many things and he truly wanted to deliver on his promises .... but shortly after you were conceived he contracted Oripathy. It was discovered when one of the Fang family's physicians was going over the medical reports of the main fighting force...your father was shortly ostracised by the rest for being infected and eventually sent on a mission he wasn't expected to come back alive from."

Her gaze became more vacant, and Lily worried if this was all her mother was going to say, but suddenly she continued in a softer voice, berate of strength.

"Our love was kept secret at the time thus I wasn't ostracized as well for loving an infected man. You were born a year later....but honey know that your father truly wanted to hold you in his hands...Now you know the small container we keep hidden at the back of the shed beneath our clothes?"

Lily nodded her head.

" Inside that container is your father's Fang necklace...he left it with me before he left on his last mission ...Now honey here."

Slowly with obvious discomfort, Lily watched as her mother took off the chain she carried around her neck, a lone Fang-shaped Talsmon affixed to the chain. It acted as both a societal marker to showcase she was apart of the Fang family and a glimpse of her true personality based on the engravings scattered along the surface of the Fang.

"This was given to me by my mother when she passed...and I know it's time to pass it on to you Lily. Do me a favor and add the talisman on your chain alongside your fathers."

With a weak push, she shoved the Talisman into her Lily's hand, a choked sob coming out of Lily. A weak sniffle escaped before Lily nodded toward her mother.

Smiling gently, she laid her hands on her stomach and spoke one more time.

" I love you, Lily, always know that."

" I *sniff* Love you too Mom."

Lily watched as her fever-ridden mother gently went back to sleep. Time ticked down as she sobbed in her hands, ticking until an hour had passed. As time passed a sudden noise originating from the front door broke Lily from her sobbing. Dread coiled in her veins as she realized it was time for the foreman to visit her home and evict her mother. Her earlier heartfelt sobbing had left her emotionally exhausted but she tried to raise herself to answer the door and possibly beg the foreman one last time to avoid dragging her mother away.

Yet, before she could fully raise her body the flimsy shed door was kicked open, allowing the perpetrator a tall, gangly, Perro male to walk inside her home. The toothy smile gracing his beige furred dog head made her stomach churn, yet it was the words he spoke that truly made her stomach drop.

"Well, times up, and according to today's sign-in sheet, your good ol mum didn't arrive for work. You know what that means don't you? " Pausing for his sick amusement the foreman let out in the rest of his sentence in a sing-song voice. " It means your mother is getting kicked out into the frigid Siracusa winter...although it's not as cold as Ursus." He finished his piece by popping up the collar of his coat.

Panicking she attempted to bargain one last time with the cruel man. It didn't matter if he mocked her or gave her even more work, as long as she could keep her sick mother away from the cold she would do it.

"Please I'll do anything don't force her out into the cold, it'll kill her! Please I beg of you." She begged as tears began to once again fall from her eyes.
Disppasionatly the man gave her a bored look and let out a hot breath of air.

"Do you have a hidden stash of LMD?" he boldly asked

Taken aback Lily hesitantly answered the question "No"

"Do you have hidden gold bars in the room somewhere?" he glanced at his fingernails in a bored fashion as he asked her.

Realizing where the line of questioning was headed toward she lowered her head and felt her ears flatten against her skull. But she still mustered up the courage to answer the man.

"No" she softly said

"Well....raise your head up for a second"

Raising her head she caught the stare the man was giving her, a stare which sent shivers up her spine. His stare was categorizing her, sizing her up as if she was a piece of meat being sold in the marketplace. She desperately wanted to avert her face from such a stare, but if it meant she could save her mother...she could endure.

"Sigh. Frankly, you're not to my taste, and since you have nothing of value this conversation is over. Be thankful I at least gave you a chance to pony up something, but it looks like you truly don't have anything worthwhile in this shitty shed."

Before she could argue, the foreman let out a sharp whistle through his teeth. The sudden high-pitched noise caused her to flinch, as he spoke out in the same bored tone he never bothered breaking since entering the shed.

"Oi come in, it's time to earn you keep. Take the woman and leave the child...for now."

Without further prompting two Lupo enforcers walked into the shed, faces set into a blank expression. Their imposing trench-coat-clad figures seemingly filled the already crapped living space and caused a suffocating feeling to descend upon her shoulders like a heavy shroud. The momentarily lapse of her focus was all that was needed for them to get to work, as with a quick hand signal from the foreman they swiftly went to work.

With a grace that bellied their tall bodies, they glided toward her mother with surprising speed and started gathering her up by the shoulders and feet, intent on dragging her out like refuse.

"No! Stop Please !"

Snapping out of her stupor she flung herself toward the tall enforcer who was grabbing her mother's feet and clung onto the man's coat-clad arm. The mere contact with the man's extremity made it painfully known within her mind that she held little chance to delay him. She could feel the large muscles under the cloth, capable of exerting strength beyond her untrained form. A singular thought broke through her mind, suddenly making her remember that: Yes, she was clinging to the arm of one of the Fang families enforcers, family members picked out to become patrolling guards of the compound and actually taught how to fight or use Arts if they were capable. Unlike the lower-tiered members who would be sent as cannon fodder to operations, these enforcers were apart of the first layer of the family's security force.

With a simple flex of his arm, the man merely grunted and flung her away from his body. Due to the size of her home, she barely accrued air time before her the side of her head hit the wall.

*Yelp*

She could barely register that the noise of pain came out of her own mouth, not with the room now spinning around her very eyes. Thoughts moved lazily through her mind, akin to moving through thick mud after a spring rain, as a small voice whispered in her ear that the blow caused something to go wrong in her head, yet even though the chaotic movements of the room she forced her eyes to focus on the men carrying her mother out. Between the time of the blow and her wandering mind, they had already reached the doorway.

No, they were taking her mom away, NO!

" YAHH!"

Despite the; muddled thoughts swimming in her head, the rotating motion of a normally stationary room, and the way her body protested at the movement, she flung her body toward the enforcer. Somehow she was able to make the distance, but only within the range of the man's legs...that was enough. With frantic movements, she clawed onto the man's cargo-clad legs, desperately seeking some leverage to delay the man.

"PLEASE! don't take her, don't take her aw-"

Maybe it was the blow to the head from earlier, or possibly the way her attention flickered, but by the time she registered the way the man shifted his weight, it was too late. Before she could complete her sentence, the leg she clung onto forcefully shook her off and within a singular motion, the sole of a boot came toward her face with unyielding momentum.

*Crack*

She didn't know what happened in the time between the vicious blow to her face, and her newfound place on the shed's floor, but a painful glance upwards merely showed an empty doorway, void of the enforcers and more importantly void of her mother. She felt the remnant of her saddened heart shatter, a pain easily surpassing the ache she felt originating from her neck and the pain radiating from her likely broken nose. She could feel the tears begin washing over her face once again, the coolness of the tears slightly soothing the heat of blood rush from the onset of swelling her face felt. The salty water did little to soothe her broken heart, nor helped with the iron tang that permeated her tongue.

*clap**clap**

Sluggishly moving her body to the right she noticed she wasn't alone in the shed, the foreman having stayed behind for some reason. He was clapping and held the same toothy smile on his face, but she could see the smile didn't reach his eyes. No, on the contrary, they glinted in a way that showed severe distaste, as if he was looking upon garbage. Calmy he walked toward her and bent down.

" You couldn't let things play out calmy now, could you? No, you had to make such a scene in front of security, didn't you? You couldn't stay in the corner and act like the docile little shit you normally are."

As he spoke, the volume of his voice gradually rose until he was practically snarling into her face. The Perro was never a nice person, always inflated with his status of being their group's foreman and taking as many liberties he could get away with. Yet, she couldn't understand why he was yelling into her face when she hadn't done anything toward him.

"What? WHy-"

*PAH*

She barely could voice out her confusion before her head was once again dealt a blow, viciously whipping her head to the side, and reigniting the fiery pain her swelling face felt. Suddenly, with a painful jerk, something grabbed the top of her hair and hoisted her up. Her neck flared in pain from the forceful movement, as she cried out in pain.

*Thump*

Only for another blow to hit her along her stomach, causing her to sputter out saliva and blood. Then, she heard a noise bellow out disgust as the force holding her head up let go. As she fell onto the floor, arms and legs instinctually went into a fetal position to cover her stomach. She barely registered the foreman to speak above her.

"Tch, not only do you make me look bad in front of security but now you ruin my coat by spitting your filthy blood on it?... Oi, pay attention to me when I'm talking."

Another blow, from what felt like the tip of a boot, impacted her back. The force made her roll once across the floor. Vaguely knowing if she didn't listen to the man she would continue to receive blows, she shakily raised her head to look up at him.

"What a sorry sight you are. You were already ugly before but now you look even worse."

He came toward her once again and bent down, hand reaching out to grab one of her ears roughly. The sudden jerk, caused a spike of pain to go through her head but she bit her tongue to avoid voicing out her pain. Her abuser continued talking, as she willed herself to listen beyond the pain and discomfort her tiled head felt.

" You must be wondering why I'm going out of my way to beat your sorry ass. But, look at things my way for a second yea? You made me look bad in front of security, and guess what's gonna happen when they report back to their superiors. They're gonna tell the tale of a foreman who can't control some 80lb mutt from causing a scene. Your stunt is gonna cost me my reputation...and we can't have that now can we?"

His hand went into his coat pocket as he took out a small metal device. Casually he flicked his wrist, causing a blade to pop out of the device, revealing it was a pocket knife. Even with the little light, the small lantern on the nightstand offered, she could still see the way the knife glinted with guaranteed sharpness. The urge to shy away from the blade made her body attempt to move back, but the hold on her left ear made it impossible.

" Now look here." He said as he lazily waved the knife around. " In an attempt to stop any bad talks from reaching the higher ops, while you were reeling from that nasty blow to the nose, I spoke to the enforcers who were dragging out your mother.

I told them you were always a problem child, but this was the first time you showed such little restraint. I "promised," them that I would probably discipline you...so let's get this over with."

The knife blade was swung and she screamed.
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Present

She shivered at the painful memories going through her mind. That night had gone by a sluggish pace, pain being dished out along her entire body. The more she screamed the longer the torture went on as if her sounds of distress fueled the foreman's sadistic side as he continued mutilating her. Her mind knew she should refrain from voicing her pain, but it was simply too much as he held her down and carved out chunks of her flesh.

Her left ear was the first to go.

Beyond the first slice, the man had decided the cut was "too clean" and rectified it by unevenly cutting out more chunks of her ear until he called it "perfection"....perfection being a jagged stump of what once was her furred appendage. Only 1/4 of her left ear remained, looking as if a wide dog had ripped it apart...very close to the actual event in actuality. Yet, it didn't end as the Perro man continued to hold her down and carve the knife into her back....with her only realizing later he was carving even more derogatory statements across her back. She cried and yelled for the man to stop but he didn't. Eventually, she fell silent after the beating session he gave her beyond the carving session, her mind barely able to cope with the pain he inflicted on her.
Frankly, considering the severity of the wounds sustained that night she knew death should have claimed her in the following days, if not via bloodless or via infection. But the "professional" foreman couldn't have one of his workers die off the job so after he left Lily bleeding on the floor of the shed, he came back and "graciously" dowsed her back with disinfectant, threw a bundle of bandages at her and left a small amount of ointment. The small number of items he left could barely exceed 100LMD but the man had taken the chance to further make her life miserable by saying she was now "indebted" for the supplies he gave her. The "debt" became 10,000 LMD with incurring interest....which gave the man the capability to skim close to 70% of her wages.
She couldn't even voice out the injustice since the only real way to talk to another higher-tiered member of the family was through the foreman himself, and even if she did find someone to listen, the Perro man could always say it was a "personal" debt between the two. The family wouldn't care, especially considering she was a part of the lower "grunts", nor did she have a personal backer to vouch for her.

As her thoughts wandered through the horrible situation she found herself in, her body was on autopilot, completing her assigned task of packing away the stolen goods and "prettying" them up to look like regular packages. Yet it seemed fate was intent on causing her more suffering, as she never noticed the stray stone in her path as she carried her box toward the waiting truck. By the time she noticed the stone it was too late, as with a twist of her ankle she went sprawled onto the ground with the package flying out of her hands.

Pushing through the pain as quickly as she could she lifted her head to check on the condition of the package, the scene making her heart drop into her stomach as she saw all the contents sprayed out along the dirty floor. Forcing herself to stand, she rushed over to the fallen contents, intent on shoving them into the discarded box and moving away from the area as quickly as she could. The other workers wouldn't report her, as it was their unspoken motto to look out for each other's backs, but she needed to take the goods away from the area before the foreman came and-

"Oi, bitch. I knew I heard something fall but who knew it would be you messing up the merchandise."

Dread transfused through her entire being as the foreman came around the side of the truck, mouth set in a smirk as his eyes contained cruelty-tinged mirth. As he neared, her body involuntarily began to shiver, flashes of that night becoming increasingly clearer as he neared.

"Tut tut tut, it seems you made quite a mess..and in front of so many workers as well. ..Guess that just means I need to make an example. Can't have the other workers thinking they could make such sloppy mistakes as well."

"Wait I'm Sor-"

She felt the fist connect to her jaw more than she saw the foreman's movement. All she knew was that one second she was standing, and the next she was on the ground with her head swimming from the blow. As she lay in the dirt surrounded by the contents of her dropped package, the man continued forward.

"Well, don't take it to personally bitch, it is my job."

She could only curl up into a defensive ball as she felt the kicks impact her back, already knowing it was useless to voice her discontent as it would only prolong her "punishment". Through the gaps of her defense she could make out the other workers around the scene, many averting their eyes but the few that didn't seem to carry a solemn air. There was no sense of anger or defense in their stances, only grim acceptance. Perhaps, sensing the futility of garnering a reaction from her the blows ceased after a few minutes. She heard the sound of the man clicking his tongue, and felt his life on her hand when he spit on her. Still, she endured.

"Bah, making me work for nothing....Oi you two carrying the box. Come drag her to the shitty shed she sleeps at, there's no point in making an injured bitch handle delicate work. And you bitch" Another rough kick impacted her tailbone where her tail began but she endured. " Don't bother dragging your ass to dinner, I'll be telling the cook not to bother serving you. Only workers who don't fuck up to get a meal."

Barely, having the presence of mind to listen to the man continued his rant, she felt two rough hands lift her up from the ground. They squeezed her arms tightly, but not enough to cause any real pain. With a final farewell gift, the foreman spits on her face, the saliva impacting her left cheek and lazily dripping down her face.

"Get her out of my sight... AND ALL OF YOU GET BACK TO WORK. Times money and someone for the love of Terra clean up this fucking mess on the floor or no one gets food tonight!"

Her eyes didn't bother looking around to watch the other workers frantically clean up her mess, a portion of her did feel sorry for causing them more work but she was truly too tired to move her eyes away from the ground. She hadn't been eating well lately, the food offered to the workers barely considered filling, and what meager payment she gets for working getting excessively skimmed off, leaving her without enough LMD to fill her stomach. If it was solely a few months of lack of proper nutrition, she could endure, but it had been years. The constant work and the lack of care made her feel weak even on the best of days. She could consider the act of being carried to her room an act of kindness if it wasn't for the before-mentioned beating.

There was shifting along her right side as a voice whispered into her ear, most likely done intentionally as everyone already knew her left ear as deaf.
"Lily, sorry about this. But, don't worry we won't make this any more painful than it already is, just relax. Me and George will get you to your room before the foreman decides he wants another round".

She vaguely heard a grunt of approval from George, sound fainter than it should be due to him being on her left side, and true to Fred's words, the moment they were out of range of the truck she felt the force of their grasp slacken. They still carried her, which she was thankful for as the pain in her back was slowly getting worse.

It took a while but the workplace strewn with small warehouses eventually petered out to show the living quarters of most of the lower class members, sheds made of easily made cement, gray without a hint of personality to them. Each family would be allowed a signal shed, regardless if the family held four or more people they were required to all live in the same shed. In a sense she was "lucky" to own an entire shed to herself...but that fact merely jostled her broken heart that she was truly alone in the world now, devoid of her parents or any real family member. It was true everyone in the compound was somewhat related, but at most everyone was distant cousins of the other, and each family needed to take care of themselves.

Gradually reaching her shed, Fred opened the door and led her inside. She weakly thanked the two for bringing her back home. They replied with pleasantries and wished her a good rest, leaving her alone once more in the small shed. In an attempt not to make her bruises worse, with purposely slow movements she turned on her small lantern by her bed. The amount of cheap oil being enough for another night before she needed to refill it. Truly, she knew deep down it was a waste of money to bother fueling the old lantern and she should sleep in the dark....but the darkness of the shed weighed heavily on her broken heart, the loneliness more than often causing her to cry herself to sleep.

Slowly she crawled into her impromptu sleeping area comprised of a thin aged mattress and a few sheets.

Laying down, she wrapped herself in her well-worn sheets. Tiredly she grasped her necklace, three fang talismans fastened to it. The action soothed her, as it was the last remnant of her family she could truly hold. Eyes feeling like lead weights, she figured a quick rest would help her pain and she would worry about food later. As usual, the last thing she thought of before going to sleep was for the next day to better. The same wish she always wished forever since that day six years ago.
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The world is truly full of injustice. Watching it happen before his very eyes merely made his bitter soul laugh in self-pity...but feelings could be pushed aside for a later time.

Closing his eyes, he instinctively knew it was time for the transition to take place. The memories he saw were featured through the eyes of the vessel, thus he didn't know what specific body type he was entering, but he figured it was at least female based on the...screams he was forced to listen to.

With the pace of a snail, he felt his body rise up through the water without any physical input from himself. These were the only times the watery grave would allow him to resurface and break the distorted surface above.

Soon he would be depriving the girl of her life.

Soon he would be effectively murdering her.

Soon he would breathe again and thrust into Terra unwillingly.

Soon the cycle would begin anew.

He didn't bother struggling from the imaginary force dragging him upwards, as previous separate attempts to avoid another bloody death merely proved the invisible shackles held the strength to subdue any movement. Despite his soul screaming for rest, to finally be free of this horrendous burden he continued on. It didn't matter if he cried enough to fill the entire ocean with his tears, his life was no longer in his hands. He could only make do with the situation at hand.....at most he figured he would grant the girl some measure of tribute for taking her life....the foreman should suffice.
As the surface touched his forehead, further thoughts became useless as his mind was shrouded in white.

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A sleeping Perro girl laid on a ratty mattress, breathing in short bursts as she squirmed from an unseen nightmare. With suddenness akin to lightning, the girl's body froze, only to burst into frantic jerky movements a second later. Her whole body convulsed, sheets falling off her body as her eyes erupted open, face set in pain, and mouth open seemingly intent on asking for aid for the pain she was exhibiting.

As sudden as the convulsions began they stopped all the same, as the girl's eyes rolled into the back of her head, body going still once again like a puppet whose strings were cut. Eyelids became shut once again, face smoothed over into a neutral expression, breathing ceased and within moments even her heart stopped beating....only to resume a hair's breadth later.

The only movement left in the room was the flickering flame present in the body of the small lantern. Time ticked by, 10 minutes, 20 an hour, two hours....until finally, the girl stirred. Calmly her eyes opened to reveal two hazel eyes, pupils surrounded by old flecks of silver to create a jarring contrast of colors. The eyes held sadness, grief, acceptance, and many other emotions which fused the gaze with a deep-seated heaviness and profound tiredness.
Slowly the girl's lips parted, exhaling a long breath as if she was just awakening from a coma.

"Good Morning"

He....no he figured he should identify himself as her now....it would cause issues if he referred to himself as male while in a female vessel. She wasn't knowledgeable of the world's current stance on gender identification but considering Terra was rife with inequality, discrimination, bigot ideals, and warmongering savages, she wouldn't be surprised if she earned someone's ire for identifying as male.

It wasn't the first time she entered a female vessel, thus she had made her decision to adapt long ago....that didn't stop the jarring contrast. Biologically, a female's brain held different amounts of hormones when compared to a male's brain, and she found the body would subtly affect his mind. The issue was further compounded by the assimilation process behind his mind and the vessel he takes over. Each time he enters a new vessel, their memories, likes, dislikes, beliefs, and other menial things wash over his own mind. The end result is a fusion of both minds with him always coming out on top like some apex parasite....but that didn't mean he was left fully intact.

She long ago came up with the analogy of a white shirt being dyed in various colors. You could technically wash the shirt, but the colors might stay and only become muted. Thus, his mind was being affected by the personality left behind in the shell of the vessel he inhabited. If she was poetic, one could attribute her ocean purgatory as a means of "Washing" out the previous vessel's influence and the return of "his" original personality...yet that would be wishful thinking.

She was now "Lily" and Lily was different than "Kazar" such as "Kazar" was different to "Unit 04". The stronger the vessel's previous ego, the more personality traits she would adopt and the more she would change. Realistically speaking if a personality test was given to his original self and compared with her current self, there would be many outliers. An example could be given to his original love of coffee, something he vividly remembered asking nurses to sneak into his hospital room. Now? well, most of his vessels couldn't consume coffee before they died, and the few that did, held taste buds that didn't agree with the drink. She could say her love for the drink has mellowed out at this point in time.

But, she supposed laying in bed and merely thinking wasn't useful for her situation....at most she was delaying the painful inevitable.

"Sigh, let's get this over with already."

Eyes closed she delved into her mind and sifted through the memories of Lily, the Perro worker of the Fang Family.

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5 hours later

Rubbing her temples to avoid the drastic headache that threatened to burst every vein in her head, Lily sat upon her dusty mattress and addressed the information she parsed through. It was never easy going through the memories of her vessels, many times memories being unreliable, rose-tinted, or simply broken pieces of scenes. In this case, it wasn't a horrible experience as her current body was only 17 years old, but the process of rapidly scanning through years' worth of memories within a few hours still hurt mentally.

She felt she was trying to find nuggets of gold through a pond of iron scraps...the issue becoming more troublesome with the fact she felt "feelings" toward many of the memories she saw. When she looked at the memory of the original body's mother, she would feel the crushing sense of loneliness and need to dive headfirst into the woman's arms. The struggle of differently her feelings from the original vessel's was truly a monumental task. At most, it was better just to leave the area the vessel lived in...less heartache.

Breathing out hot hair, Lily got up and opened the nightstand draw, whisking out a piece of paper and pen to write down her situation. The action would allow her to calmly write out the situation without being lost in her ..feelings.

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1. The Fang Mafioso Family of Siracusa, is a Lupo family that specializes in smuggling operations. "Lupo" is used loosely here as only the inner circle are pure Lupos, and the majority of the family has interbred with other canine species to the point of diluting the main bloodline. This happened due to their policy of "Quantity over Quality" and their need to have multiple hands throughout the country.

Nowadays, it is common to see a purebred Perro clansman be a part of the Fang Family, with affliction being seen through a fang-shaped talisman.
Although they are big on creating more members, the heads of the family only canine-based species to join. Possible due to an attempt to not divert further from the main line?

2."Lily" was apart of the lower caste of the family, a basic porter who was in charge of readying shipments in less than proper conditions. Conditions of work are sub optimal but general higher tiered families don't care as there will always be another person to pick up the slack if a lower tiered member dies.
3. Functionally fighting the entire mafioso family is suicidal. I am not some protagonist in some reincarnated hidden master scion wuxia novel who has a golden finger and can make the entire family kneel at my feet. No, this is Terra and the moment I start poking my head into the higher tiered members' business, my head will be chopped off like an onion.

4. As "Lily" never held training in arts, it is up to me to mainly check if she holds potential.

5. Plan is essentially fuck over foreman as a tribute for taking over "Lily's" body, and get the hell outta dodge. Siracusa is right next to Kazdel, so if I stow myself on a smuggling shipment headed to that shitty country I can take my time and dig up the various next eggs I buried there...if they weren't blown up.

6. Debatable if I want to continue robbing items from the deceased...my current body weighs like 60lbs and is skin and bones. Not exactly the best body type to take on devil mercenaries.

Maybe I could hitch a ride to this world's version of the US? Already froze to death in Ursus so fuck that. Meh plan for later.

7. Get weapon

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After writing down her various thoughts on paper, Lily glanced over the list and smiled at the plan she formulated. There was little need for her to stay in the Fang mafioso family, and the enforcers typically let the members go to the market if they held the funds. Getting "lost" in the market wouldn't ring any alarm bells as the family frankly didn't care about them.

Waling over to the small nearby lantern, she popped the aged lid off and dangled the paper holding her plan over the flame. With calm eyes she watch as the flames licked onto the flammable piece of pumpled wood, latching on and slowly destroying her current goals. The list was no longer required, and would only serve as evidence to her true "species" should it be discovered.

As the paper burned, her eyes traveled over the room taking note of the shabby living conditions the previous vessel lived in. The walls were made of grey concrete, cracks visible along the interior, likely due to poor workmanship. There was a distinct lack of flooring, a dirt floor only present beneath her feet, and a lack of windows was painfully obvious. Suffocation via lack of circulating air was barely avoided by the bottom crack the unaligned door held, which allowed fresh air to permeate the area. Humming a small tune she picked up during her time in Ursus, she figured the residents of these sheds all held similar living conditions. One could argue it was homely but she knew it would turn into a freezing locker should any snow pass by.

The paper was fully consumed and she let go before the flames could lick her fingertips, fire not being her best-loved element ever since she was forcefully combusted in a tank. Watching the ashes float away, she figured it was time to check if her body was capable of Arts. Sitting down, and laying her back against the cement wall, she pulled the memories of her 5th life.

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?????

"HANA stop playing around with the other trainees and get in line its time to teach you all about Arts".

She stopped playing with the other inductees and settled down in a neat line. Intent on understanding the weird magic system this world partook in. Her recollections of playing Arknights in her hospital ward were vague, but her understanding of the lore was that Art's was basically magic and you needed to be taught how to harness it.

Did it matter that she was being taught the magic system as a part of her caretaker's efforts to turn her into a bloody ninja? Not really. Besides, it seemed common practice in this country, whose name the caretaker seven refused to tell her, to snatch up child orphans from the street and turn them into tools of assassination.

It had barely been a few months in her current child vessel, and she was already being taught how to stab a man "correctly" to make sure they bled out fast enough before alerting their comrades. Honestly, she felt lucky they fed her a lot to keep up with the training. Still, the idea of actively killing another sentient being bothered her....but she didn't want to suffer through the feelings of starvation again so she endured.

A sudden noise of chalk on chalkboard, made her snap her attention back to her "instructor"...shitty old hag.

"Alright, listen here because I don't feel like explaining things again. Arts can be considered to be a power each person is possibly capable of wielding. This power can be separated into multiple categories and is ever-expanding as each person has the possibility of forming a unique personal version of Arts. I will leave the full clans categorization for later but today we will discuss two categorizations, along with how Arts are activated."

Pausing in her rant the old woman who acted as the group's caretaker started writing two words on the board, General and Unique.

"Now the first categorization is a General category. Art's users in this category tend to showcase Art's abilities that are fairly common, straightforward, and are typical of the weaker variant of Arts. Powers showcased here are common physical enhancements, or weapon embodiment to make your weapons more effective.

Arts by themselves are a manifestation of your will, once in contact with the catalyst Originium. It is speculated each person, if successful in formulating the proper mental execution, can access the General category. Teachers are better able to aid those in expanding their baseline Art's abilities as the more well known the Art power is the more help one can receive.

Of course, talent is important as well. I say you can access the general category but you may have a poor affinity for strength augmentation, but have a great affinity for speed enhancement.

Now, this changes if you are capable of accessing your "Unique" Art. Typically if one practices enough with general enhancement or is spiritually infused enough, one can formulate power that reflects your soul. Powers here have messy categorization, as you can exhibit powers ranging from long-range energy bombardment to empath abilities.

A Unique Art's power is a reflection, of your beliefs and inner self, something you may not even be aware of yet. You can be lucky and instantly attain a Unique Art upon the first activation...but if you do not spend time to fully understand yourself you may never reach the full potential of your Art.
Ahem...moving on....How do we activate your Art's ability?

Well, that's tricky you see. Typically the activation of Art's is comprised of two components; a mental command and a catalyst comprised of Originium. The wicked crystal is very easily attainable but the mental command isn't.

There is a variety of ways to mentally spark the activation of Arts but our clan prefers to equate the process of imagining a song from your heart or creating a mental landscape in your head that is the equivalent to your greatest desire. Art's is more spiritually based than people understand.

If the mental song or landscape is too muddled or doesn't accurately reflect who you truly are, then you may not Activate your Art's ability, and if you do at most you will be able to wield powers in the generalist category. Like I mentioned previously, some people are lucky to understand themselves enough to jumpstart their Unique Art's, but only when one truly understands themselves can reach the pinnacle of their potential....

Now any questions."

Every single hand shot up at the prompting of the instructor and the instructor could only cradle her head in pain.

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Lily smiled at the memory, as watching the old hag's pain always lifted her spirits. Frankly, she hated the withered old husk that was the woman, as the old goat was no better than a blood frenzied Sarkaz....she only hid behind a false exterior. Although the woman took her time to teach each batch of child soldiers, she was still the one who sent them off on dangerous missions with a smile on her face. In the woman's eyes, any sacrifice intended to aid the clan to prosper was a worthy sacrifice. Lily hoped the woman died choking on those sweet dangos she always raved about, as it was the woman's fault for sending her on a mission that result in that vessel's death. At the time she was still hesitant of taking another life preemptively, and she paid the price for it.
The memory was also an extremely dumbed-down version of how Art's worked in Terra, something intended to teach young children efficiently enough to jumpstart their careers of being ninjas. In hindsight, she figured it wasn't worth the clan's time to teach the intricacies of world warping powers to children being sent out to die.

Still, she found the method of creating a 'song" or landscape to act as a trigger was very useful. Like a hammer of a lighter, it helped ignite the beginning of one's Art. A person could be taught a generalized mental process to activate their Arts but However, it wasn't entirely spiritual as the clan made it out. Some of her previous vessel's could not physically activate their Art's despite her providing various mental stimuli. It wasn't that she didn't understand her vessel, hell she was forcefully fused to the remnants of their psyche, but sometimes she couldn't even activate the general uses of Art's.

It aggravated her but she could admit the problem stemmed spiritually as well, considering she never was capable of formulating her own "Unique" Art. Even when using her previous vessel, "Kazar", the body only allowed for above-average strength augmentation. Personally, the entirety of Terra's magic system pissed her off, as;

1. One needed to become some Jedi mind master, or fortune cookie writer to unlock their best abilities

2. A person also needed a super cancer crystal to act as a catalyst

Roughly running her hand through her dirty brown hair, to relieve some stress, she figured it was time to check if her current vessel could use Art's, and that needed meditation....something she found even more aggravating.

"Well here goes nothing I guess."

Leaning her head against the cement wall she thought back to what made her... well "her" and what better comparison to her situation is there other than "Ouroborus". The snake constantly grows and consumes its tails in a never-ending cycle of suffering. A perfect set of imagery for someone constantly reliving the mortal coil, only for it to be forcefully ripped from them. Personally, she found utilizing her memories to reinforce the image was suitable enough to make the imagery strong enough to enable general Art's usage. All she needed was to remember each of her deaths to fuel the snake.

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The ocean is vast and majestic....but oh so lonely when you're the only thing floating within

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"S-so cold. Why didn't they decide to pick me up. *shiver* I could have helped them carry their weapons." The winter winds batted me down once more, but I no longer held the strength to stand, allowing myself to fall onto my knees.
I could feel the snow of the blizzard begin to accumulate around my motionless body...but. ...my legs are too cold to keep moving.
"So..Cold...Why did you leave me ?"

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*glup*
Watching the water bubbles filter through the orange-tinted waters of my tank is my only enjoyment here. The tank is my world, regardless of the researchers moving around outside, scurrying to categorize their data.
I alone am here in this tank, and they are not.

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"Watching the vultures picking apart sure gets tiring huh."
I don't know why I bother voicing out my thoughts, there's no one else here besides the birds and corpses. I should just continue along my job.

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Halting the trip down memory lane, a hand is forcefully pressed against her temple to stop the already-building headache.
"Tsk, somethings wrong. The memories coming up should be about my deaths and rebirths...without those memories to solidify Ouroborus I won't be able to use Arts."

It aggravated her not knowing why her own mental trigger for Art's wasn't forming correctly. Typically, each time she entered a new vessel she was forced to reinforce the mental trigger, possibly due to the new memories she was forced to swallow from the new vessel.

" I don't understand, every other time I formulated the trigger it worked. This is the first time the trigger has basically collapsed....is it the new vessel."
Her eyebrows furrowed in thought as she wondered how her current vessel was affecting the formation of her trigger. The sparsed memories of "Lily's" life showed she wasn't a stranger to death, watching her mother slowly die introduced "Lily" to the cruelty of the world, thus her philosophy of " A never-ending cycle of suffering-Ouroborus" should work just fine.

Headache building strength she decided, to try and discover her Art's at a later, lest her brain rams its way out of her skull.

"Whatever might as well go check if I could steal a weapon from one of the storage warehouses heading out. Everyone should be at dinner, and from what I can remember guards don't bother monitoring small-time weapon caches this deep in Fang territory...gotta love corrupt cops."

Picking herself off the ground, she dusted the grim off her backside while inspecting if her clothes were suitable to go outside. A casual glance at her garments made her think they could be better but at least they covered her well enough. The one-piece dress she wore seemed to have been a bright yellow once, but constant rewashing had caused the color to fade with the middle section showing tiny splotches of white. Even the hem of the dress was gradually tearing away from constant use.

The sandals she wore, seemed to be hand-me-downs as they were a size too big for her, her heel practically swimming in the things. The light blue sweater she wore was sorta ok, in terms of use and the last article of clothing she wore was a necklace full of decorative Fangs. She couldn't tell if her face was presentable, as there wasn't any reflective surface in the shed but sparsing through her memories showed the communal bathroom was nearby. Within the bathroom were a few mirrors, so she figured she should pass by to check how her new body looked like.

The foreman constantly called her ugly but she didn't know put much weight behind his opinion. Besides, she had personally witnessed the memories of her biological mother, and she was definitely not ugly.

As she waltzed herself toward the exit of her humble(shitty) home, the pain from her body's earlier beating started to become known.
" Ouch, did the stupid man really need to aim for the kidneys?"

Rubbing her sore side, a decision began formulating in her mind. Factually speaking the soreness, and pain would delay her from moving through the poorly guarded facility swiftly, thus a quick numbing of her pain receptors should do the trick. Typically, she refrained from affecting her vessel's pain responses, as in battle that could become suicidal.

"Here's one good thing about being a crystalline-spirit hybrid virus that can hijack nervous systems...complete control over said nervous system."
With a mental tweak, the pain flaring across her back disappeared, and she left the shed in a hurry. She held no personal qualms against the shed but for some inexplicable reason, the thought of staying alone in the shed felt too suffocating.

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Authors Note: Wow is it hard to write such long chapter. A couple of things to rant here btw.

1. Terra magic system is bullshit, there's no definitive explanation on how the magic system is taught or attained.

2. One thing I notice about my writing is that it goes up and down in quality depending on my mood. Now frankly I suffer from pretty bad depression, and I feel like it affects my work but overall writing is hard.

3. People might find the overall motivators behind the main character to be odd and the storytelling from his perspective to be extremely odd or unstructured but that's the point. Our main character is unfortunately not all there, something I attempted to explain this chapter as he's reviewing his vessel's memories, and with the explanation of his belief. Death has broken him numerous times, and just because he's experienced once doesn't mean the next instance is any better.

It's like Subaru from Re:Zero, one does not fully stay the same after dying multiple times. If it wasn't for the plot armor behind the series I feel like a regular person would break, eventually pick up the pieces of their mind and move on.

I also didn't want to write a fresh Isekai story showcasing the character constantly getting their ass kicked, so I started the story with our MC already having a few death on their belt.

4. I had a lot of fun writing the scene with Lily, even if it was overall sad. But, how else would you describe the ends days of someone who has a disease they don't even know about. Unlike regular Oripathy, the crystal strain that allows our MC to move bodies is a "silent killer". Unless you actively work in Rhodes Island and are medically scanned you won't exhibit any sign of Oripathy, as the whole point of the strain is to be undetected until its time to swap bodies.

What I also found fun about writing the scene is the character interaction. Alot of this chapter held merely thought analysis from a singular person sitting in a room...not exactly engaging to read but necessary for future plot convenience. I like writing the info dumps then writing action later.

5. GASP finally if anyone has opinions on how the scene should be written better please tell me. Write now the character is more blank than anything else, but they should fill out in time....Hell, I'm pretty sure the original Lily currently has a better backstory than our MC but we will see.
Also I need a beta reeeeeeeeeeeeeee.