I was flabbergasted, utterly flabbergasted!

Miraculously, the Doervus had managed to survive! Survive! There it lay on the ground, twitching slightly as it struggled to rise. Once, twice, thrice in its attempts.

My heart ached for the poor creature. But it was painfully evident that standing up again was an impossible feat, considering it was severely injured and, well, split... right in half.

A pang of guilt gripped me as I winced, fully aware that I had crossed a line.

However, something strange caught my eye about the shattered Doervus...

It didn't seem to bleed, which was quite peculiar…?

For a situation like this, I should have described it as bleeding blood, but the truth was there was no blood or any liquid oozing from the creature. In fact, nothing about it appeared normal in any way.

Instead, to my astonishment, the Doervus was oozing out particles similar to the ones that would drift around the air. Odd. So, odd.

My mind was in a tizzy, struggling to wrap itself around what unfolded before me. It was like trying to catch a slippery fish with bare hands—nearly impossible! 

The notion that the Doervus might be made of energy particles, not good ol' flesh and blood, was mind-boggling!

As I stood there, attempting to decode the cryptic significance of this strange occurrence, I couldn't help but gawk at the peculiar sight. The particles oozing from the injured creature seemed to have a mind of their own. Instead of just remaining idle, they drifted attentively towards the nearby plants, trees, and crystals. And as they made contact, a soft, eerie glow enveloped these objects.

These particles were slowly being absorbed by the plants, trees, and crystals nearby. The very essence of the Doervus was being siphoned away…!

This... this sent shivers down my spine.

It dawned on me, as clear as day, that this world I found myself in was nothing like the one I knew before.

Everything was different, from the bizarre creatures to the baffling laws of nature. It was as if I had fallen into a storybook with a plot I couldn't predict. This revelation was yet another reminder that I had been whisked away to an entirely new realm, where everything was beyond my grasp.

Would this be my fate? To be reduced to mere particles, lost and forgotten forever in this unfamiliar land if I were to meet my end? Again.

My ears perked up, and I noticed my tail swishing uncontrollably, like a pendulum swinging back and forth.

No! I couldn't let my bewilderment and fear chain me down. I had to keep pushing forward, find a way to survive, and eventually discover a path back home. My fellow survivors and my brother were counting on me—and I refused to let them down.

However, the Doervus's melodic wailing drew me back to the present. It was evident that the poor creature was in pain, and I couldn't simply leave it there suffering. Despite my lack of understanding about this world, I couldn't let a fellow being suffer—whether or not they had attacked me or even tried to end my life...

I began to approach the Doervus, and as I neared it, the Doervus glared at me with crimson eyes filled with confusion and anger. It bared its teeth, warning me to stay away. But I was determined to help ease its pain. As to how I was to do this?

I was not sure…

With no equipment to assist the Doervus, I was left with few options. One option that I found deeply regrettable.

Even the mere thought of carrying out the act made me feel sick. But there was not much I could do—except leaving it to suffer.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. My instincts told me to finish it off, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had no desire to kill for the sake of killing.

I gazed at the injured Doervus, its wary eyes locked onto mine. There was a flicker of uncertainty in those iridescent orbs, but also a glimmer of something else—a hint of trust, perhaps, or a desperate plea for help. It was as if the creature sensed my intention to aid it, but years of caution and survival instincts kept it on high alert.

"I won't hurt you," No longer, I shall, I murmured softly, my voice carrying a soothing tone. "I just want to help. You're injured, and I can't leave you like this."

Without another word, I set about creating a makeshift shelter for the Doervus. I gathered sturdy branches and large leaves, arranging them carefully to form a protective cocoon around the wounded creature. The foliage felt cool and crisp against my paws as I worked, and the rustling of leaves provided a gentle, comforting symphony.

Tenderly, I arranged the leaves in a semi-circle, forming a rudimentary wall. I then propped up the branches against the rocks, creating a roof over the Doervus.

The Doervus observed my every move with a cautious gaze, its body tense and ready to flee at the slightest hint of danger. It was evident that trust did not come easily to this mysterious being, and I couldn't blame it. After all, I was just a stranger in its world, I had harmed it and my intentions might not be immediately clear.

Maintaining a safe distance between us, I continued to build the shelter, I then spoke softly to the Doervus, trying to reassure it. "I know this might seem strange to you, but I promise, I mean no harm. You're not alone in this strange realm, and I'll do my best to protect you."

The Doervus's response was a mix of wariness and curiosity. It tilted its head slightly, as if trying to understand my words, but remained cautious, keeping a safe distance from me as I scampered around it.

"There," I said, finally finishing the shelter. "A safe place for you to rest and heal." I gestured towards the leafy sanctuary I had created.

I took a step back, giving the Doervus space, and sat down a short distance away. I didn't want to intrude or make it feel trapped. Instead, I decided to wait, to show the creature that I meant it no harm and that it could trust me.

I noticed that the last rays of sunlight were disappearing behind the horizon. The world was now bathed in a soft, twilight glow.

"Settle in," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Rest now. I'll keep watch."

As the moments passed, the Doervus seemed to relax slightly, though its wary gaze never wavered. I stayed there, keeping a watchful eye on the shelter, ready to lend a helping hand if needed. 

The world around us hummed with its own melody—the whisper of the breeze, the distant chirping of unknown creatures, and the soft rustle of leaves.

With my gaze set upon the injured Doervus, my mind couldn't help but drift back to memories of my past. A past where I fought alongside other humans against the machines that had turned against us. It was a time of survival, of grit, and of making difficult choices.

I had learned to detach myself from the machines we fought, viewing them as mere obstacles to be overcome. After all, they were just metal and circuits, devoid of life and consciousness. But the Doervus was different…? It was alive, breathing, feeling…?

My mentor, who had guided me through those dark days, had no qualms about taking lives when necessary. She believed that sentimentality could be a weakness, a dangerous vulnerability that could cost us dearly. "You must be willing to do whatever it takes to survive," she used to say. And I tried to follow her advice, but it wasn't easy.

Unlike my mentor, I couldn't easily separate the living from the non-living, the sentient from the soulless. I struggled with the weight of my actions and their consequences. In the battle against the machines, I had become a warrior, but a part of me clung to my humanity, desperate not to lose myself in the violence of the worlds within the past and present.

As the night wore on and the stars twinkled above, I found myself lost in contemplation. I wondered how I had come to be in this strange realm, facing a wounded creature that seemed to be from another world altogether. It was as if fate had thrown me into a never-ending spiral of challenges and moral dilemmas.

The Doervus watched me with those wary eyes, and for a moment, I felt a connection between us. We were both beings struggling to survive, trying to make sense of a world that had turned upside down. Perhaps, in some strange way, we were not so different after all.

Gazing at the Doervus, I knew I couldn't undo what had already transpired between us. I had hurt it, defended myself from it, and now I was trying to care for it. It was a conflicting web of emotions, like a tangled thread that refused to be untangled.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed aside the memories of the past and focused on the present. I knew that my choices would shape the person I became in this new world. And in this moment, my choice was clear—to care for the injured Doervus, to protect it, and to find a way to help it heal.

◇ ◇ ◇

As the night wore on, exhaustion began to take its toll on me. The weariness seeped into my bones, and my eyelids grew heavy. The injuries I had sustained from the Doervus's attack were throbbing, and the pain became increasingly difficult to ignore.

Just as I started to drift into a restless slumber, a strange sensation washed over me. The world around me seemed to blur, and my surroundings melted away, replaced by a surreal dreamscape. And there, standing before me, was Emma—my mentor, my guiding light in those dark days of battling machines.

Her presence felt so real, yet I knew she couldn't actually be here. It had to be a hallucination, a trick of my tired mind. But I couldn't help but feel a mixture of comfort and confusion at seeing her.

"Aera," she said, her voice carrying that familiar mix of authority and warmth. "You've come so far, my dear."

I couldn't help but give her a weary smile. "Emma, I... I didn't expect to see you here."

She stepped closer, her gaze steady and piercing. "You've faced so many challenges, Aera. You've learned to fight, to survive. But you mustn't forget who you are. Your compassion is your strength, not a weakness."

Her words struck a chord deep within me. "I... I try, Emma. But it's not always easy. This world, these creatures, it's all so different. I don't know if I can make the right decisions."

Emma placed a hand on my shoulder, and I could almost feel the weight of it, even in this strange dreamscape. "Trust yourself, Aera. Trust your instincts. You have a good heart, and that will guide you. Don't lose sight of who you are, even in the face of darkness."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away. "I miss you, Emma. I miss having you by my side, guiding me through all of this."

She smiled softly. "I am with you, Aera. In your heart, in your memories. You carry the lessons I taught you, and you'll carry on without me."

"But it's so hard," I admitted, my voice breaking. "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

"You are," Emma said firmly. "I've seen it. You've faced challenges that would break others, yet you endure. And remember, strength doesn't mean you have to be unfeeling. It's the ability to carry on, even when your heart aches."

As her words sank in, I felt a burning desire… a stifled fire reignited. The hallucination of Emma may have been a product of my mind, but the wisdom in her words was real. 

I could still hear her voice in my head, guiding me even in her absence.

With a deep breath, I looked at the injured Doervus, who had been watching this surreal conversation with curiosity. "I'll protect you," I whispered. "I'll do what I can to help you heal."

Emma's smile widened, and for a moment, I could almost feel her embrace. "That's the spirit, Aera. Trust yourself, and you'll find your way."

The dreamscape slowly faded, and I was left once again in the cold night air, with the injured Doervus in front of me. Though the conversation had been a hallucination, its impact was real. I came to realize what I had to do.

I stood as I made my way toward the Doervus.

I fought machines. I deactivated machines. I eradicated machines. I tore them apart for scraps. None were alive. None were sentient. And I can confirm millions were destroyed from my efforts alone. Robots, droids, drones, etc.

But an actual life? Taking a life was entirely different.

I would rather disarm a person, or at worst, break the limbs or shoot to dissuade anyone who would actively choose to harm me and my fellow survivors; and our intentions were simple—to push back the machines and survive our damn apocalypse.

Now, I stood there pondering, my head occasionally observing my surroundings. My tail twitched and swayed as I placed a paw to my chin.

Eventually, I made the decision.

"Doervus, Doom Deer, or whatever I am to call you," I said, staring into the creature's red orbs. Frighteningly, it seemed as though it took in every word I said. "I am going to make it clear that I will be sparing your life."

The Doervus tilted its head.

 

"You dare mock me, Merecritt?" The Doervus spoke with its mouthless face. The deer creature's red dots gleamed with a mixture of rage… and disappointment—an almost pitiful sight.

I could only blink as my ears twitched, after understanding its words.