I quickly deal with the new Energy as it appears, but… it isn’t slowing down. There’s a steady influx of hostile Energy… and I think it’s coming from me. The… is ‘Eliminating’ something just the same as gutting it Energetically? So I put a bunch of ‘Self’ runes in me… that aren’t actually mine? No, that couldn’t be it, there isn’t enough hostile Energy. The notification said something about ‘Other’, so I look at my status, and there’s a new addition to the Peripherals section:

[Other - 40/106]

106 is my new max Energy. 15 Energy from the Carnines, 25 more just now… It’s a meter of my corruption… how much of me is something else.

An icy fear crawls up my spine. What the hell did I just do to myself… I fell for the same trap Dean did. Power in exchange for compromising who I am. I’m such a fucking idiot. I can feel it now… where before, it just influenced me a little, making me more violent, more angry, now it manifests as a set of urges that I know aren’t mine…

Like how I’m starting to wonder what these monsters taste like raw. I shake my head, but the feeling stays. I want to move, run, fight… and I want to keep doing that. But that doesn’t make any sense, I fight because I have to, not because I want to. At least… I did. It’s odd that only while forcibly repressing the violence this Other wants me to inflict that I realize… I used to freak out from killing anything. I was borderline catatonic after defending myself. And now… I was doing a quick errand to prepare for another fight against the Shades, and it seemed reasonable to hunt monsters. Just a stop along the way. Maybe that’s how it should be, and that’s the kind of taste for violence this world will require of me… but I need to be the one in control of that. Fighting is exhilarating, and killing something in a fight is practically the ultimate form of superiority; you deserve to exist more than your target… but that feeling… it felt so good to torture these things. Feeling their bones break under my strikes, purposefully turning killing blows into brutal maiming strikes… and what worries me is I can’t muster the slightest remorse over it. It’s all I can do just to keep from indulging in the pleasure of Eliminating all four Carnine around me. It would be so easy… and that’s a lot of free Energy…

Ugh. This is going to suck.

I pick up my sword, intending on finishing the Carnines off rather than leaving them to suffer, and as my hand touches the blade, I feel better. Not… fixed, or whole, but better. Because it’s bound to me? Because of the Will stat it adds? Maybe both. The urges suddenly seem less powerful, and the hostile Energy stops appearing as frequently…

It’s still there though. What if I had tried that on something stronger? Made half my Energy that of Other. I think I would have died, or, at the very least, had extreme difficulty retaining any sense of self. Fuck me, it was just this morning that I decided not to take unnecessary risks. That sure went well. I really wish there was an obvious solution to this. Like, if I could just eject the Energy… or most of it. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was less. Maybe it gets better with time? Or maybe I can use that Energy for runes? But maybe… that would make runes that respond to the will of the thing I stole it from.

I methodically dispatch the crippled monsters, netting a little more Power that I care nothing about. I have the blade out, so it wouldn’t be too much extra trouble to hack off a few pieces for later- no, it would be disgusting. We have reasonable, cooked food back at camp... I feel sick. The celestial rings… how long have they been out? I didn’t… notice. They’re getting close to the star. Time to rush. I put my sword away, but the moment it leaves my hand, I feel the urges come back, and I have to actively stop myself from turning and finding more monsters to hunt. Hell, if I stayed out, I could hunt a lot… no, I’ll get that opportunity at camp anyway. Stupid, pointless, go bathe and get back before you’re missed. Maybe I’ll just run with the sword out, that should stifle the urges- but the moment I think that, that part of me roars in protest. It’s an effort of will to push past it and grab the hilt anyway, and slam the lid on its outcry.

This is bad. I have a sneaking suspicion that I can’t just suppress them forever. I need a solution that isn’t permanently integrating those feral thoughts into my mind. I take off running, holding as well as I can to both my sword, and my sanity.

----

Lauren had already taken up position by the entrance in preparation for night when Amadeus finally showed up. Night had basically arrived as he strode in. What a leader, can’t even be on time. He'd been gone for a while... how long does it take to bathe? Probably relieving himself in 'other ways'.

“About time you show…. what happened to you?” He was white as a sheet, and looked strung out like someone who hadn’t had a fix in too long.

Did Amadeus do drugs? No, impossible. Certainly, almost any addiction would have been cured by the system, and this looked closer to withdrawal than being intoxicated. She… wasn’t sure why she knew that.

Amadeus’ eyes snapped to her, like he was some sort of terrified animal, but he relaxed slightly when he saw it was her talking to him. “Amadeus?” The others were looking at him strangely, as well they should. He ran up looking like death, sword out and covered in blood… yeah, something happened. For once, their leader was at a loss for words, and just started walking towards them, as though unaware that people were becoming increasingly anxious. They’re probably worried he had a mental break or something, but… no, he just looks bad off. Lauren hopped the barricade and strode out to meet him. She spoke in a low voice, only for him: “Dude, put your sword away, you’re freaking peo-” “NO!” She winced, that wouldn’t look good either. He had jumped back when he registered what she was saying, and was now crouched as if poised to strike. “Yes. What the hell is wrong with you? Spill, I’m not letting you in looking like that.”

“...Night is coming.”

“Yes, it’s basically here. Tick tock.”

“Lauren just… please.”

“You look like you’ve literally lost your mind, and that, the blood on your sword, and your overall edginess right now paint a weird picture. Did you get hurt? Did something… or someone attack you?” As she noted the blood to him, he looked curiously at his sword, as if realizing for the first time that it was bloodied.

“Something, yeah… I messed up. It’s complicated. I have it in check, but I have to hold my sword.”

“You don’t look like you have anything in check.”

“B-believe me… it was way worse.”

“That’s not making me feel better about this.”

“Don’t… you trust me?”

“Sure, a lot. But answer me this, Amadeus, do you trust yourself right now?”

He was silent. Long second flowed by, and Lauren was acutely aware that they had less than five minutes at a max before night fell in earnest. She wouldn’t keep him outside during the night, that would kill him, and that wasn’t allowed, but… she really hoped he would do something to make things ok. Something that wasn’t her having to knock him out.

“Ok. But… I think I’m going to have to sit out tonight.”

“That’s ok.”

He nodded, eyes closed, and sheathed the sword. His hand lingered on the hilt for a while longer than it needed to. When he removed it, nothing seemed to change.

What the fuck was he going on about?

His eyes flashed open, and he walked quickly forward. Lauren made no move to stop him. There was purpose in his movement, like he was holding back… his body seemed relaxed, but it was actually coiled in tension, ready to lash out. She had certain instincts about how people were going to act, and Amadeus was putting her on edge. More than before.

She followed behind him as he walked past the others, eyeing him, but now more out of concern than fear, and down the hall. He stopped at the turn, as if trying to decide which way to go. He looked back, and saw her standing there, watching him, and turned in the direction of Zathis’ chamber. She followed him until he went inside, and she waited behind the door while they spoke.

“Zathis. No questions. Please make a cell for me out of stone. One that I cannot escape without your help.”

“Anthony? That is a very… strange request.”

“Please. Don’t let me out if I threaten you, or sound deranged, or anything short of my... normal composure.”

“I… do not wish to harm you.”

“No harm, just… don’t let me out.”

“As you wish, I will help.”

A sudden, familiar sound of stone shifting rumbles forth from the room, and there is silence.

Just how badly did he fuck up? Lauren didn’t know what to do, but he had supported her through worse, so he deserved her help in whatever this was.

She just… had no idea what to do.