ROUTE 1: CHAPTER 3: RAINY ROADS PART 3: PARTING OBLIGATIONS

Being blasted away from the top of a tower was bad enough but it was in no way an unsalvageable situation.

Vessel had plenty of tools which would allow her to move to safety but before that could happen she was caught.

She had stopped falling and instead found herself glued to a gigantic web, thick sticky strings that covered a large space between two of the seemingly endless constructions around her.

The impact of her landing made the web shiver which in turn made small bells at the end of each string chime. These bells were made out of bones and some sort of organic tissue and made a distinctively disturbing sound.

It was safe to say that a bad situation had just turned into something much, much worse.

(Vessel: Oh no… I know what this is…)

As she began to struggle to get herself loose she became increasingly entangled in the web, the motions of her body making the disgusting bells chime all the more.

(Manfry: the fuck is thissss supposed to be?)

(Vessel: This is the nest of a rustler… turn into a sword Manfry.)

Rustlers were curious creatures gifted both with the ability to teleport and to phase-shift, that is to say move through solid matter.

Each one of the spider-like beings spun their webs at multiple locations all throughout the spheres and had a special sensory bond with their traps which allowed them to sense and teleport to each location when fresh pray had been caught.

The bells, which the creatures made with exceptional care out of the remains of their victims, signified that dinner was served.

(Vessel: Manfry, I need you to start eating this web.)

(Manfry: eeaaat this shieeet? eeeeeeeeew!)

(Vessel: Stop being such a baby, gobble it up. You better do as I tell you... )

Manfry was quite a special sword, an animated blade which had an apparition bound to it through special procedures, in other words what was known as a computa.

Computas were living things, thinking objects, tools granted both with intelligence and often other special capabilities.

In the case of Manfry that meant that he was designed to be able to transform into five different forms, each a deadly tool, and beside that he could also consume just about anything, turning the matter he ate into nothingness.

(Manfy: aaaaaugh, iiiits so stickyyyyyy.)

As the deranged computa began to chew up the web around Vessel the slithering beast they had been waiting for appeared.

A black portal on the side of the closest building was its passageway, its long legs slowly and deliberately finding its way through the gate.

The rustler was a slick, sticky creature with black legs and red eyes in abundance.

On its almost humanoid face there was small snout with a needle inside of it used to inject venom and slurp up liquified victims.

Its body was covered in a thick carapace which looked almost plastic, as if a horrifying toy had grown to the size of a bear and become alive.

(Vessel: And here we go... You can't sense the danger you are in right? Too bad for you spider.)

The rustler slowly moved towards its target, purple saliva dribbling from its snout and spreading a foul stench.

At this point the young girl had already been freed from the trap and awaited the creature with a small grin on her face, all the while Manfry kept coughing up pieces of stringy web.

(Vessel: Manfry… turn into the 5.56 mm caliber automatic rifle, if you please.)

(Manfry: hack, cough, hack!! graaatatatatata, caaan do!)

The high-grade image of the ancient rifle was magnificent, a lethal and effective design created to shred opponents and armor asunder. Black metal and plastic united in deadly harmony. While the rustler was able to let solid matter pass through its body it was a slow process and no match for the speed of the rifle.

Manfry smiled, Vessel fired and the rustler was blown to pieces.

~ ~

Some time later, after the intense training session, Arma and Manila were resting in one of the small, shoddy rooms of the motel they had found attached to the gas station.

Arma laid on the velvet red covers of the bed that took up most of the space in the room and Manila pretended to sit in a small dinky armchair placed beside a table with a thick, cracked television placed upon it.

The room smelled like dust and old sweat stains even though it was clear that no one had been there for a long time.

Einfeldt and Eius-Farim had taken the motel-lobby for themselves, finding amusement in some kind of ancient board game they had found in a cupboard and surely at least Eius was drinking.

Arma had been to exhausted to join them and Manila had chosen to accompany him.

(Manila: I think… you did good today. I might be harsh at times but I believe that you have earnestly tried your best… master.)

(Arma: Yeah… thank you…)

The pale young man was quickly falling asleep but his green companion watched his closing eyes with deep intent.

(Manila: There is something I have been meaning to ask you… something that bothers me… although I am thankful…)

As Arma opened his eyes and looked at her Manila had a strangely complex look upon her face.

(Manila: Why did you kill him?)

His green companion arose from her chair and laid down beside him on the bed, the green, almond eyes perfectly placed under her brow reflecting the shades of gray within his.

(Arma: I guess it's pointless to ask who…)

(Manila: Yes… I am referring to Vaporin. He made you, unlike me, from nothing after all. Also… I have to tell you, us being attacked, it is probably because of the choice you made in that moment.)

(Arma: I figured as much... hah, I have wondered about this myself.)

Now it was Armas time to wrinkle his brow in deep thought, his eyes looking distant for a moment.

(Arma: There was this feeling… this feeling of powerlessness, and I guess as soon as I got that feeling I just stopped caring…)

Outside the rain kept falling, the steady drops of the downfall pattering on the single window of the room.

(Arma: Its like this… I get that I am a construct, I am a conceptual being. I am something that was made… for a purpose I guess, one that I will never find out now.)

Faraway the slow beating of the waves of the Sea of Dreams crashed upon some foreign, strange soil, mirroring the heartbeat in Armas chest.

(Arma: And I am fine with that, actually I like it. I don't have to be anything, having abandoned my creator I can… just be… without a reason.)

Manilla, still lying beside him, pretended to stroke his hair as Arma himself was staring at the cracks in the shoddy ceiling.

(Arma: I can be free to be myself if that makes sense… I don't rightly know how to explain it. It felt like a whisper upon the wind.)

(Manila: That is strange… abandoning your creator, rejecting authority… In a way I think you turned out exactly like he wanted you to.)

(Arma: That is …. Well i don't know what to say.)

(Manila: You don't have to say anything… you can just sleep… sweet master.)

~

That night Arma dreamt of ghosts.

~ ~ ~

The next day the party continued their venture and after a few hours of walking the road seemed to clear up, although the weather did not.

Whereas previously most of the space on the four-lane highway had been covered in debris, old rusting cars or trees, the now open space presented to them sped up their progress significantly.

Arma kept going out of his way to look inside the few cars they still passed, seemingly searching for something.

(Eius: You think you'll find something in there?)

(Arma: Yeah… I thought maybe I could find some more dice for you.)

As they continued further along the road, the pale young man finding no luck in his hunt for dice, the fog surrounding the area seemed to be growing increasingly thicker.

A deep, endless mist which soon covered everything.

(Arma: I can hardly see anything… how can we continue like this?)

At most Arma could see his own hands stretched before him, and the hoovering image of Manila peering over his shoulder, seemingly holding on to him.

(Manila: Stop… master, there is something here.)

Even in this thick fog Arma could see them too, movements in the white mass engulfing them.

The shapes that appeared out of the fog seemed almost childlike. Small, ghastly figures which slowly made their presence apparent as they began to circle the party.

They seemed hollow in a way, almost see-through, not entirely unlike Manilas apparition but even more insubstantial.

Each of the creatures were armed with a thick jagged knife which looked as ghostly as the beings themselves.

(Eius: ...shit.)

Chittering laughter filled the air as more and more shapes appeared, although it seemed distant, as if echoing from far away.

(Eius: Fucking fog-boys, these guys are a tricky bunch.)

Arma could not see when his companion was cut but a scream tore through the air from the direction he had last heard Eius-Farims voice.

(Eius: Fuck that makes me feel! Don't let them get you, their knives don't cause wounds, they pierce you with fear.)

(Arma: How is that dangerous?)

(Eius: Well… eventually you'll be so scared you want to kill yourself.)

From another direction the voice of the lumbering giant echoed through the mist.

(Einfeldt: I am afraid I do not have the ability to interact with these creatures, while they cannot harm me, I have no way of harming them. Such a sad predicament, I cannot protect you.)

Gibbering laughter continued to echo from all around them, there had to be at least a dozen fog-boys that circled the group, although it was hard to tell in the thick fog.

A small childish figure suddenly dove out from the mist and cut Armas ankle but its wicked knife left no gash behind, instead Arma was filled with a deep sense of dread.

(Arma: FuuuAAH! That… that sure is something!)

(Eius: It will only get worse! Time to let the good times roll… ODDS MANIPULATION 3; UNLUCKY DICE!)

Arma could not see when Eius-Farim threw his manifested dice up into the air, but he could see how their glow painted the surroundings with their intense colour.

The bright orange glow kept spinning around in the air and growing until it finally showed a result. DING, DING, DING!

(Miss Lucky: That's a six for PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA! A THRREEE for power! Aaaaand a SIX for SELF-INFLICTION! Naaaaw, ain't that a bummer?)

(Eius: Whelp, I'm out…)

The demona instantly fainted, collapsing into a pile upon the cracked asphalt. His power; the unlucky dice, was a power based upon chance and as such carried certain risks.

One of these risks were that any attack made by the dice could affect himself, or a comrade, if a dice-roll turned sour.

(Einfeldt: Do not worry, I will take care of him, Arma, strike these creatures down.)

(Manila: Analysis complete... these beings are a kind of ghaster, just as the horrors we faced in the forest. Apparently they are supposed to be weak and fearful on their own… take out a few of them and the others will flee.)

(Arma: Got it.)

The pale young man instantly manifested a black blade in his left hand, its shivering power vibrating and spewing out thick clouds of dark smoke.

(Arma: Abyssal blade.)

One of the fog-boys dove out of the mist to attack him in the very next moment and Armas response was just as fast.

As the sword touched the creature it immediately turned to mist, dissipating into the air.

Manila yelled out a warning and Arma turned around just in time to slice another fog-boy into insubstantiality.

After the second fog-boy had disappeared the other members of the pack seemed to slow down their pace and keep their distance, slowly circling the group and turning their laughter into snarling hoots.

Arma faced them with a stern face, challenging them with the blade he held in his hand, a sword that had yet to break. Apparently his training had paid off.

(Arma: Get some!)

The third fog-boy seemed to walk out slowly towards him, its face blank and dull. When Arma struck it his sword exploded and the howling laughter continued once again.

As another sword manifested in his hand four more of the creatures charged out of the mist to slice him at the same time and Arma could only fend of one of them.

(Manila: They share a collective consciousness, they won't mind if some of them die as long as they can bring down their target!)

When the knives pierced him Arma was cursed with an unknowable amount of fear.

A dark, hollow and utterly hopeless feeling, as if everything in the world hated him and had nothing to offer to a single living being.

The dread that pierced him in that moment was enough to make a man want to die but in the very next instant the feeling was gone as quick as it came.

(Manila: You have to create more swords!)

(Arma: Don't worry, I have an idea.)

The pale young man closed his eyes, focused and listened. He was able to create a few more blades without completely spending his remaining energy but he needed a way to hold on to them.

The image that appeared in his head at that moment was the image of the curious birds they had seen as they began their trek through the Rainy Roads, the trap-birds.

The extended neck, something similar to an elongated spine forcing itself out of the body.

With an appropriate image in mind one could use wind to create almost anything.

(Arma: Spinal Cords!)

At the same time as yet another four of the fog-boys approached him four sticky extended necks shot out of the upper back of the young man.

It was a painful experience, the veined and disgusting spines breaking his skin as they grew out of his body.

At the end of each neck the head of a trap-bird cawed and when they opened their cracked beaks a black blade grew out of it, black particles being sucked up from the surrounding atmosphere. .

(Manila: This is… you have such strange tastes master.)

The spinal cords snaked through the air towards the fog-boys and pierced each of them with a sword at the same time, raising them up towards the sky as if displaying a trophy.

As the slain creatures poofed out of existence and turned into mist the remaining fog-boys started to scream.

It was a shrill and horrifying sound but while Arma readied himself for another charge it did not come.

The fog-boys were running away.

At once the mist dissipated and only the rain remained.

~ ~ ~

After the battle the rest of the journey was mostly uneventful as they travelled on for what surely would equal at least a couple of days. It was hard to tell without sunlight and in the merciless downpour of the rain.

Finally they reached the end of their journey; a titanic concrete wall with what seemed like a blackish body of water on the other side.

It had to be some kind giant dam, Arma could find no other appropriate word in the knowledge that he had been given with his birth.

The wall seemed to go down just as endlessly as the Faraway Climb had and here and there the gang could see how rectangular orifices on the concrete surface spewed out water with regular intervals.

(Arma: I don't think this strange world will ever fail to amaze me.)

As they approached the water a foul stench hit them like a bag of bricks. This ocean, lake, dam, whatever it was smelled like old putrid trash. It was disgusting but at the very least it was not unbreathable.

Out from the concrete wall a small wooden wharf had been built and by that wharf five wooden rowboats bobbed in the water.

(Eius-Farim: And here we are… the end of the road.)

The demon of greed walked up towards the wharf and turned around towards the others with a smile upon his face. His weathered duster was caught by the wind and flapped wildly behind him.

(Eius: Before we part ways… we have some debts to settle.)

(Manila: I have worriedly been anticipated this since we played that game with you…)

(Eius: Hey, green lady, miss Manila. With all due respect… )

The grey man looked mockingly upset, making a disturbed face while smiling at the same time.

(Eius: Here is what I wish for in return for your debt miss. I know this won't be easy… but please, give my kind a chance. We do not have a choice to be born as we do, just as you did not have a choice in becoming what you are… the final product, the person it becomes, i won't say it undoes the injustice, but perhaps it can have worth in itself…. give us a chance…. That's all I ask. )

(Manila: I will not say that I have liked you company… but I will say I did not hate it, nor you. Let good gambles be granted to you upon your journey, Eius-Farim.)

(Eius: And for Arma, this is my wish. Never let anything get in the way of your journey to experience this world, I think it's probably the only noble goal one could have. See it all, see as far as you can and go furthest you are able to.)

(Arma: Yes, I will. And if I find any dice I will save them for when we meet again.)

(Eius: Haah, bet you thought I would wish for something bad and here I am asking for acceptance and wishing you well, quite the demon I am.)

The large dolora, Einfeldt stepped forward to shake Eius hand. Eius took the large hand in his own gratefully.

(Einfeldt: And here is my condition to you… although it might seem rather harsh… Do not gamble with life, at least not your own. Stay safe.)

(Eius: Ghaahahah, a harsh predicament! But I will make sure to stay safe if I can. Thank you, sad giant. Your people are always the best.)

(Einfeldt: Do not give me undue credit… I was saving my debt for last, in case I needed to revoke yours. That is not a sign of trust and I am ashamed by my actions.)

(Eius: No worries, I wouldn't trust me either!)

(Eius: Also, Arma… If we meet again and you are interested in a good fuck, do not be afraid to hit me up.)

~ ~ ~