Slash. Blink. Cut. Sear. Blink again. A rhythm quickly established itself, my combat protocols waking from their musty depths to smooth my inadequate motions. There were people relying on me, I couldn't just give up and die! So I slashed at the flesh in all directions, blood leaking out onto the floor as an endless torrent of the stuff materialized out of the mass's horrid form. It was only my newfound speed and blazing, crackling sword which kept me alive. And even still, the blood was beginning to pile up. Just a matter of time before I slipped and made one too many mistakes...
I steeled my heart. It was my duty to continue trying, my responsibility to keep myself alive for the people who cared. As my style gauge intensified in strength — the bar which must have held my mana burning with power, sitting at a cozy red "ANGELIC" — I let out a great burst of intense light in every direction, charring the fleshy amalgam and boiling the blood pooling around me to plasma and rust. Almost immediately, I fell to one knee. I'd taken a pretty big hit to both my HP and my physical body earlier, but apparently my style meter had regeneration properties. Still. I felt like shit.
Just a little longer. A moment of reprieve.
Millie had long since left. Apparently she "had to do something". I honestly expected that Myriad had simply realized I'd be here for the long haul and sent her off to do other nefarious things, but it did wonders for my mental state. I didn't have to sit there and watch the almost-dead eyes of that... thing, puppeting my only friend from Earth. But at the same time... eh. It kind of felt like she was cheering me on behind the facade. I hoped she was proud of me.
Returning to a combat position from my kneel, I prepared myself for another round of fighting. The thing I was scrapping with had no visible method of killing it, so I'd somehow switched my sword to an HP version early in the fight. Ignoring how that was supposedly impossible, the thing had almost instant regeneration. So it was all I could do to keep myself alive. Honestly? My only option was to keep myself fighting for long enough to scrape together an instant kill using spells I'd be crafting in the downtime between waves. Sounds pricked my ear, though, and I groaned before returning to a constant vigil. It wasn't until a good few seconds later that I realized I knew the sound, vaguely speaking.
It was the sound of a drill, of rapidly-spinning machinery. Like a jet engine, or a car, or... any number of things. But it signalled some change to the equation, a possible out from my endless fight. I hadn't realized it due to my dulled sensitivity — most sounds had begun to sound similar to the sloshing and shambling of the hideous mass around me. That was bad. What if I'd been assassinated or something? I wouldn't even be able to hear the sounds of my killer.
Water under the bridge, I'd simply learn to be better.
A glowing green drillhead poked its way out of the vaulted ceiling above me, and I scrambled to get out of the way. To my great relief, Nora and Flurry's heads poked their way out of the hole a moment later. Their eyes widened at the sight, and once they saw me Nora's nose crinkled in mild disgust. Flurry had a different reaction, but I was too busy realizing that literally all of me was splattered in dried, burned blood for that to matter. Ack. Extinguishing a bit of my hair that was on fire, I waved before turning back to my foe. "Hey, can't talk. Endless battle against an invincible enemy."
Flurry rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know the deal. Give me a few minutes and I'll have a solution for you. Nora, fire support." Nodding to each other, Nora squeezed a bow and arrow out of the hole and begun taking potshots at any pseudopods which got too close to me — it was negligible damage, but the monster seemed to be somewhat curbed. I nodded my thanks to her as I began to slash and blink again.
More cutting and sprinting and jumping and shooting. Me and Nora fell into a pattern again, her suppressive fire allowing for me to rest easier and direct my magic with more care. It even allowed me to get in a few thoughts, here and there! And I used those to my best ability. Specifically, I aimed my cognitive abilities at what the hell this thing's weak point could be.
As far as I was aware, media typically portrayed slime-based enemies as either pitifully weak (due to having low health and strength) or strong as hell (due to having a critical weak spot and high strength). This seemed to be the latter — assuming it wasn't a custom made one just for me, which, if it was, thanks — so what mattered was finding the weak spot. Fundamentally, the eyes and teeth and mouths and hands were negligible: there was no increased pain or damage when hitting them, and more simply grew from the split-apart or dented remains. So at least on some level, this was a simpler fight than I'd initially anticipated.
I needed to approach this from a different point of view. I'd be fine — I trusted Flurry, and I could surely survive for just a few more minutes at a lower intensity — but to prevent things like this from happening in the future, I'd need to improve my prediction skills and possibly learn more about the ins and outs of the stats system. At least, if the mental bonuses granted some kind of... actual mental bonus.
Hacking away another bone-knife travelling for my throat, I heard a quick "Catch!" from Flurry right before a crystal with a band around the center flew past me and nearly into the pool of blood on the floor. It was only with great fumbling and nearly getting my head taken off that I was able to catch the damn thing, and I gave Flurry a violent look for her troubles. She'd let out a sharp breath and popped her head right back into the hole from whence she came. "U-Uh, make a hole in the monster and throw that in!" squeaked the mechanic, fully out of fucking sight. Coward! I was just looking at her dirty!
I could do that, though. Choosing a specific point on the creature to stab, I jumped onto the wave of flesh nearby me and ignored the clasping hands at my feet and ankles. Making a precise incision, and a brief prayer to whatever god would listen, I shoved the crystal in.
The crystal in question quickly began to spark and shimmer, with the section of flesh growing to hide it also glowing a bright orange-red. Now seemed like a good time to get out. I jumped up to grab onto Flurry and Nora as quick as possible, scrambling to get up the hole and into the stairwell proper before my enemy exploded or some shit, and just about barely clambered into the stairwell before a rumbling boom echoed beneath me. I looked down, and blood splattered my eye.
Ew.
Eh. It wasn't painful, so I simply wiped it off with a groan. Whatever drill my friends had been using had already dissipated, leaving us all exhausted and resting against our borehole's walls with practically no light. I closed my eyes. It wasn't really fair that I had night vision and the others didn't. Even if that was only in the form of thermal imaging.
If I hadn't closed my eyes, I might have seen Nora stalk up to me with murderous intent before she slapped me across the face. "What the fuck were you thinking??? Also, OW! What the fuck is your face made of?"
I opened my eyes, confused. Then rubbed some more dried blood out of them. Flurry had summoned a light spell to make sure our dingy stone surroundings were visible. "I was curious. Metal? Er, my face is made out of metal."
She gave me a dirty look (as Flurry struggled to hide her snickering across from us). "Gods, I couldn't possibly have guessed that from the fact that you just no-sold my fucking slap. Just curious, huh? Only curious? That was the only reason you stayed there instead of running right back up the stairs the first chance you could get? I saw the rest of that room, Cyl! Even I know that was a fucking deathwish just from the architecture and contextual clues!"
Flurry wasn't laughing anymore. It wasn't that weird, was it? I shrugged. "Dunno? The fountain was interesting. I wanted to see what its deal was. Just felt like it. Once I got down there it would be too long to walk back up so I went further in. Then Myriad contacted me and, uh... yeah."
"Myriad???" Nora looked at me incredulously. "Oh, just Myriad. The fucking god of monsters and darkness? Yeah, she contacted you? And then I imagine she set a fucking... whatever that thing was on your ass?"
"Actually, she used the body of one of my friends to do it. From, uh... before I came here. It's been a good like fifteen minutes of fighting I think?"
"Cyl, how are you fucking alive? You don't just fight a summon from a fucking god for fifteen straight minutes and live, that's not! Well! You're not supposed to be able to do it!" I imagined Nora's eyes were burning into me at this very moment. But I didn't have the confidence to look at her face.
"Well, I... er, it's really nothing special? I just kind of... did. That. I dunno. I powered up my sword using the sheath that Moira gave me, and then it was just damage prevention. It didn't seem that hard?"
Flurry cut in, voice blunted. "Yeah no that was pretty much impossible for any normal person. Maybe one of the animal-kin species could do it, or a really talented spellcaster, but... you're what, level 8? Last I checked? Probably up to like, 28 now, honestly, because that fight wasn't winnable."
My mechanic friend snorted. "Well, you weren't winning, but you shouldn't have been able to survive nonetheless. That thing had to have been absurdly powerful, I don't even want to know how much it hurt to get hit."
"Ah." I paled. "Um, how did you know I got hit?"
"Party alert. Nora's right, though, don't change the subject too much. You need to take a little better care of yourself."
Nora nodded in agreement, and I lowered my eyes again. "Sorry. I'll try."
"You fucking better." Someone flicked me on the forehead. I couldn't see who, because I'd kept my eyes low to the ground. "Cyl, we care about you. You know that, right? I don't want to see your body on the floor because you got trapped by fucking Myriad and had your soul ripped out or something. Flurry probably doesn't either."
"I don't!" Flurry chirped, faked happiness grating at the tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
"See? Make better decisions. Idiot." God. But I couldn't just make better decisions.
I breathed in and out slowly, trying to modulate my breathing so that it wasn't obvious I was distressed. It felt cold. I curled my legs up close to my chest. Augh. "It's really not that easy."
"What?" they both said, at the same time. If it wasn't for the pit in my stomach, I'd have thought of it as cute.
"It's not that easy! It's just... agh. I can't just give up. It's not who I am. If I went this far, and then I stopped, it'd only be out of a lack of faith in my own ability. If I stop, I'm saying 'Hey everyone! Look at the stupid fucking robot who came all this way for nothing!"; I'm saying that I'm not prepared for whatever it is I'm testing, or fighting, or hearing."
I stopped for a bit. My voice was threatening to tremble, and I took a few bolstering breaths before proceeding. "I figured out a few things about myself down there, you know. One is that I'm not a guy. Another is that I'm not who I was before, not entirely. The most important thing I learned was that I was never able to give up. If I'm dashed against the rocks or whatever, some stupid poetic bullcrap about self-destruction you might spout? Okay. I can't just... stand by, and step back."
"Flurry," I continued, my voice beginning to grow just a bit more steady. "You know at least a little bit of my story. Not all of it. I was a crash-test dummy, in essence. But a sentient one, and an advanced one. My employer wasn't a person, it was an object — a corporation, almost like a church or a cult. And my purpose was to throw myself into danger, to test new and horrifying technology so that others wouldn't hurt. Even before that, before I was taken in by GMACH, I've got a feeling I was still fighting so that humans wouldn't get hurt. Maybe that wasn't my job description, but... whatever. It was never about what I did, just that it helped others. And now I'm finally being given the option to do it on my own. You see how I can't just stand back, right?"
Nora sighed. "Yes, but you can still be smart about it. You shouldn't have gone charging in. At least you should have sent us a message, right? Then when we get there, you actually go in. Because you have backup. You wouldn't need to risk near permanent death for no reason."
"There is a reason—" I started, but Flurry cleared her throat and stopped both of us.
"You're both right," she observed. "It was probably not the best idea to go in without a plan. You can be smart about your wants to keep helping others. But. It'd definitely be hypocritical of me to try and stop you from being who you've discovered yourself to be. How about this: You co-ordinate with us so we can provide you with reasonable supplies and emergency backup, so that if you do end up needing help — like a few minutes ago — we can help you easier. Yeah?"
Nora looked pissed, but I supposed that was a reasonable ask. And my courage was rapidly fading into an anemic, apathetic haze. "Sure. Sorry for the disrespectful tone. It won't happen again."
"Yeah, I really don't give a shit about that." My other friend slumped back against the makeshift wall and rolled her eyes. "Just... don't scare me like that again, okay?"
"Hi, yes. Also would like to ask you to not scare me like that again," my other other friend chipped in. How did I ever become their friends? Most certainly it was not my deserving their company.
But they'd chosen me regardless, and I had a duty to fulfill, so I nodded. "We should go back down and loot the area once it's light outside. Do you guys think I should wash off in the fountain..?"
Moment of tension seemingly over, Nora and Flurry both sighed in presumable relief. "Yeah," Flurry said. "Yeah, definitely do that."
