Dawn of Hunger [Nonhuman FMC Progression]

82 - Conspiracy


I was no longer aware of anything that was happening on the outside. I was fumbling blindly, the flayed strips of my body tearing free of the steel sarcophagus I'd created inch by excruciating inch. It took minutes but felt like hours.

When all of my true pieces had finished retreating from their enormous shell and began crumpling back together, I knew that it was close to done. I wasn't done regenerating, and I certainly didn't appear human—but the worst of it was over.

I didn't know how long it took, only that it was closer to how it used to work at my previous tier. At the end, I found myself on my knees, naked, in near total darkness. Fucking hell. I really don't want to have to get used to this.

I continued to grumble to myself as I searched for a way out of my own scrap metal corpse.

It's not fair. I mean, the Hulk gets to keep his pants on at least. Probably because he's a fictional character and the comic people couldn't have a big angry guy running around on the page with his giant green dong flopping about. But still.

One thought led to another, and I found myself wondering—so like, he's crazy strong. Dicks unfortunately don't have muscles, though, so he couldn't, you know—I mean I think they don't? There's no way guys can just move it around. I think. But—if someone like the Hulk got an erection, then…?

I wasn't sure where I was going with that.

At least it didn't take long for me to find a good spot to start digging myself free. I had to use a moderate amount of superhuman strength to crawl free, but not to the point where I was straight up tearing a hole through solid metal.

It was ironic that my control over metal wasn't much help. Blasting it away with violet pseudo-lightning would work, but the whole point was to not draw attention.

By touching the metal, I could begin to shift and deform it—but at that point, I found it easier to just find gaps and muscle my way through. However, minor shaping remained useful for preventing sharp edges from digging into my exposed flesh.

The air was dusty when I emerged at last, and the afternoon sun cut beautiful rays through the haze of rubble. Being completely naked and emerging straight out of the rubble unscathed, I decided to forgo stealth and just run for the nearest intact building.

There wasn't a crowd, but I could hear many different sirens and I was sure there were a variety of people still nearby.

My first objective, at least after getting away from the immediate scene, was to find something to wear. I didn't think that would be too difficult. There was surely going to be somewhere that had clothing for sale, or work uniforms, or even just a dead body I could loot.

That last one would be optimal, providing the clothing wasn't completely ruined. A two for one kind of deal—I could admit to myself that I wasn't above acting like a scavenger.

You know, there's something interesting about being more ashamed of being spotted naked than looting and eating dead people. I didn't think that was even an Anathema thing. Crazy how sex stuff or even just nudity is a bigger taboo than physical violence.

Strangely, even after a whole minute of stealthily darting through darkened rooms in the ground floors of nearby buildings, I couldn't find anyone. Maybe they all ran away? All I'd done was set a few blocks on fire and destroy a high rise.

Maybe I didn't even kill that many people.

Fortunately, I was able to find a locker area. I went down the whole row, using superstrength to rip off each locker door. Locks didn't matter when I had the strength to tear free the hinges on the other side.

Most of the lockers were empty, and those that weren't didn't have much that I could use—until enough did, and I was able to assemble a patchwork outfit that was—well, it was acceptable.

I also realized I didn't like wearing unknown stranger's clothes. I feel like it would be less icky if I took it from them dead, though. God, that's weird. Why is it like that?

Unlike before, I decided that particular feeling wasn't normal. But I still had trouble deciding whether it was an Anathema thing or a me thing. I had always known I wasn't exactly normal—I didn't think I was an experimental abomination masquerading as human, but it wouldn't have taken a genius intellect to understand I wasn't normal on the inside.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

But does that just wrap back around to the Anathema thing? I didn't understand to what degree they were related. It also didn't matter—but that didn't stop me from being curious.

Regardless, I was dressed—what now?

Daniel "Eigenmacht" Onslow

The three high tier Star Guardians stepped onto soft grass. A bright sun shone overhead, but it wasn't so hot as to be unpleasant. Waves of long, uncut grass undulated in the wind over the barely-hilly landscape.

Grassland, meadow—whatever you wanted to call it, the grass was oddly uniform and monocultural. It was also red.

Daniel knew the Tier 9 was angry, but he didn't expect Aurora to throw his head and arms back, scream at the sky, and unleash a full-body beacon of prismatic energy to pierce the heavens.

The man was not restraining himself. It was the Tier 9 equivalent of putting a hole in the drywall, and as such, it could have been seen for hundreds of kilometers around if anyone was watching.

It also ionized all the air in the way fast enough to create a shockwave that flattened grass for dozens of meters.

Daniel instinctively pushed back against the raging power with his own aura. Even though it hadn't been directed at him, the side effects could have easily burned away his clothes and bloodied his nose.

He didn't want to have to deal with that.

The heavenly beam disappeared after just a few seconds—only for the Tier 9 to redirect his attention downwards.

A series of angry stomps didn't have nearly the same destructive capacity or extent at least. It wasn't that they were weak—even with infinite strength, there was just limited damage you could do by pounding dirt if you didn't also increase the velocity of the impact.

Daniel hadn't expected Aurora to throw an all-out tantrum like this. He also wasn't surprised.

Anyone who reached beyond Tier 6 had something quirky and possibly concerning about them. If it looked like they didn't, it was most likely they did but you didn't know where to look for it.

Most people would be shocked to see the Tier 9 paragon carrying on in such a way. Aurora was known to be humble, polite but firm, optimistic, empathetic, both witty and down-to-earth—he was iconic for more than just his power. He was the archetypal Guardian role model.

And none of that was fake. It was completely genuine, concealing no dark skeletons or sinister hidden personality. It also wasn't the whole picture.

Aurora's primary quirk, equal parts commendable and concerning, was his ability to contain and redirect all of his bad moments, dangerous emotions, and dark thoughts to somewhere that they wouldn't hurt anyone or mar his image.

No one was perfect. Aurora's gift—or flaw—was an uncanny, even disturbing, ability to filter out all the imperfections and deal with them later. It was honorable—but Daniel worried that at some point, it would fail, and the Tier 9 would simply snap.

"We can't let this continue," the man said at last. His voice was quiet and ragged. "We might often disagree about the how," he continued, "but I think fundamentally, we mostly agree about the what. But not them. Christ."

Aurora pointed his finger at the other two. "I can negotiate with people like you. I can trust your promises. Even if our goals were truly incompatible, I could still have a degree of respect. The same goes for the rest of this stupid fucking color bullshit, except one."

"And I think most of us feel similarly," Daniel replied. "But what are you suggesting? That we all do a group huddle and come up with a plan to kill all of them?"

Aurora clenched and unclenched his fists. "Yes." He sounded resigned. "Yes. I didn't—I—damn it all. I just don't think there's another way anymore."

Daniel pinched between his eyes. He didn't disagree, but this was going to be a nightmare to get through. "For what it's worth—I agree with you. I wish I didn't, but I do. You were right to ask for privacy—this is going to be challenging, and some part of it will go wrong."

"That's why I need your help."

Daniel held up a hand. "Good. I would rather you involve us than doing it alone. But—we need to be very, very careful. You can't tell anyone about what you're suggesting, not yet. I won't either. We need to decide right here, right now, on a small group to meet just like this and begin planning on, well, how to plan on a bigger scale."

Aurora frowned. "Fabrica, of course. And the Foreman. Then—well it depends on how many people you're thinking of. It sounds like you want to keep this group very small."

"Yes," Daniel confirmed, "and yes, that's a great pick. The Foreman will be invaluable for this. More important than anyone else, I think. And yes, we'll invite Fabrica." Then he gestured at himself and Saber. "The two of us, of course, as well as Cascade."

Aurora gave a slow nod. "The scientist, the biggest stick, and the actual leader." He paused. "And…? I suspect we'll want to involve Green and Yellow eventually."

"Most likely, yes," Daniel confirmed. "But for now… I think that's a good enough group. The three of us, Fabrica, the Foreman, and Cascade. I'm afraid we'll also need to involve the major powers to a degree. Even if our plan starts perfectly, Black will realize what's happening, and they will do anything to stop it. If they realize they can't, they'll do anything to drag the world down with them. Just for spite."

"I hate this," Aurora complained, "because you're right."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.


Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter