Mask of Humanity

Approaching the statue with its outraised arms bearing gifts, Nicolai recognised a blue water bottle in one hand and a radio in another. Of the remaining two, in one palm there was a clump of what looked like seeds (mundane seeds to plant in the ground, not special Seeds like his own), while the other held a necklace of metal chain with a little metal ball, a tiny funnel poking out, and something like an indicator on the side.

The skeletal statue remained still and unmoving. Nicolai was almost entirely certain it was just a vehicle to provide him his reward, but he kept the metal baton ready to swing just in case.

Choose only one, the words sounded in his mind at the same time as they appeared briefly in the air over his Mark.

Nicolai considered the rewards on offer, as well as whether he would obey the Mark and only take one. He felt it would be wise to do so, as he did not know how extreme the reaction would be if he broke the rule. Maybe he’d be able to get away with it and take more of the items. Maybe he would instantly die. Too much uncertainty for him to risk it.

Before doing anything else, Nicolai reached out and touched the skeleton on the side of one of its arms, thinking examine. The gold of his Mark surged over his hand and into his touching finger, pressing momentarily into the stone before returning, then the text appeared floating over it.

Reward Shrine (Tier 1)

These shrines appear to grant rewards to Marked who have completed a Quest or Challenge within the Game. They come in various types and tiers.

From this Shrine you may claim one reward from four options, and are also granted an additional reward after choosing.

This particular shrine depicts an undead Keinvar who was bound by the People. Before their fall the People were best known for their skill as necromancers, controlling legions of such beings and using their undead thralls as armies, labourers, and even for companionship.

Undead and necromancers. Things grow ever more fantastical, Nicolai thought with a smile, pleased by another confirmation that this new world would be interesting. The big statue at the start of the Trials had mentioned they ought to “cling tight to the words of the People and Prophet,” so Nicolai presumed that those statues he'd been seeing earlier were representations of the People; what he’d just been thinking of as the three-eyed tentacle-bearded ones.

Next he examined the remaining items, first the ones he recognised, the bottle and the radio, just to be sure they were the same as he already had. After confirming they were identical, he examined the remaining items.

Sustaining Seeds

Engineered by a race long dead to sustain their armies, one need only place a sustaining seed on the ground and provide it a little water, and it will quickly grow into a large melon-like vegetable known as a guerdir, which is split into several sections. One section comprises a balanced meal.

Orb of Rejuvenating Mist

Created and sold to this day by an Imperial sect, the Living Mist, one may use these orbs by pressing the funnel down then breathing through it. The mist inside, once within ones airways, quickly transforms into a healing force which will spread through the body. It holds three breaths worth, and each breath will heal a number of minor injuries or one major.

With the attached chain, it may be worn as a necklace.

Food… Nicolai thought, reminded of the fact he needed to eat, and then he was hungry, starving, the ache in his stomach he’d been ignoring now turned pressing and demanding. The sustaining seeds were a clear solution to that.

But he wanted the orb. He had been provided no medical supplies and he had a strong feeling he would be facing things that wanted him dead. If nothing else, he suspected there would be more humans in this place, all with Seeds of their own, and doubtless many of the people he met would want to kill or rob him for his Seed.

He was trying not to think of what he might do if they didn’t try to kill him. He very much wanted his Seed to reach one-hundred percent and see what would happen, and thus was quite welcoming of those who wished to kill him. Then he could simply kill them and take their Seeds for himself.

If they were friendly, however, Nicolai didn’t know what would happen. He wanted to control himself. To maintain his simulation of humanity, to be more than a purposeless wandering monster. But he knew that the endless greed and darkness inside of him wanted to grow his Seed also, and it was clear that despite how he’d matured, the urges and impulses were barely any more manageable than in his youth. The only real change was that now he was aware of just how much they tended to control him.

Right now, he was calm and lucid. But he knew it would be difficult to control himself if he saw someone weak and ripe for robbing, especially if he were not in a happy frame of mind.

Nicolai shook the thoughts away, refocusing on the decision before him. He felt taking the sustaining seeds would be a waste. The Blue Water Bottle promised to speed wound healing by an uncertain amount, but that was all. Otherwise he had nothing, not even a first-aid kit, to repair his body. Natural healing, even made a little faster by the water, would be slow.

After thinking on that for a moment, he opted to conduct a quick test. Unscrewing the bottles cap he poured a drop of water onto a small, half-healed tear on his leg. One of those gained above the lava. It felt cool, but that was it. After watching for some time, he saw no immediate difference. As suspected, then, even with the water he would still have to wait days for any real recovery.

Were he to be badly injured, the time spent recovering would be time in which he would be weakened, which would make it harder to survive. The orb would solve that problem.

Above all, he wished to live, live and explore this strange world, live and complete his Seed to see what would happen, live and find the mysterious Lizard as the great eye had bade him, if only because it sounded interesting. Live and learn to control himself, and become… something. Something else. Something better.

But he was very hungry. Nicolai’s thoughts slowed for a moment then there came a shifting inside of him and he realised there was a simple solution to the current problem, a solution he had been overlooking. Was it something he was against, in principle?

No. The psychiatrists might’ve had something to say, but he wasn’t sure what.

Nicolai reached out and grasped the orb of rejuvenation, taking it from the statue. As soon as he’d done so the statue retracted its arm, holding the other items close to it, then it sank into the ground where it had emerged from and in a moment, it was gone.

Half a second later a skeletal stone hand re-emerged, holding a pouch. Nicolai took it, looked inside as the hand sunk, and saw four Oma crystals and two more points tags. He’d been wondering why the two men had received these things but he hadn’t. Now he had five Oma crystals and six points tags.

He opened his interface and claimed the next reward, that for killing another “Player.”

This led to a repeat of what he’d just seen, another hand emerging from the stone, though it had only two Oma crystals and one points tag. Now he had seven Oma crystal and seven points tags.

This led to a brief moment of confusion. This didn’t match up with what he’d taken from the two men. If they’d each gained this, too, then he should now have nine points-tags. He could only assume that they had not taken the time to receive the rewards for killing people, once they started, had only gotten the initial reward and then been busy. Made sense, he supposed. Killing seven people, even one by one, wouldn’t have left much time for messing around with their Marks.

Nicolai put all the things he was carrying aside, except for the knife, then he turned to where he’d placed the bodies of the rat and the thug.

The thug was bigger and not full of holes so Nicolai chose him. After dragging the man out and dumping him on the ground by the torch where the crypt was best lit, he carved a deep line that welled with slow blood down the man’s chest. Then he stabbed and wriggled the knife under the thug's left ribcage and cut carefully around it before doing the same to the other.

He enjoyed the process, performing it slowly and methodically. He’d always held a fascination for biology. He peeled the rib cages away, spreading them like wings, then continued cutting, smooth and controlled, imagining himself as a surgeon as he sliced around one of the lungs.

Shortly later he held the thug’s heart in his hand, sitting cross-legged beside the body. It was surprisingly firm and heavy, dripping thick strands of blood. ‘The patient’s heart seems in good repair,’ he mumbled then stabbed it a few times and squeezed much of the blood out.

He took his Seed out of his mouth and placed it on his knee before taking a bite of the heart.

‘Tough, chewy,’ he remarked around the mouthful, still talking for some reason, his face already covered in sticky blood. ‘But other than that, quite tasty with a gamey flavour.’ He nodded approvingly, and now he imagined himself on one of those cooking shows as a judge, reviewing the meal a contestant had presented him with. He took a break from chewing to rest his jaw, and turned to look at his Seed, his audience, to begin the informational part of the show.

‘Raw meat from something, or in this case, someone, who has been freshly killed is quite safe to consume as there has been no time for bacteria, viruses or parasites to get to work on the flesh,’ he lectured to the little worm which peered curiously up at him. ‘That might not be the case for wild animals which may carry dangerous parasites and bacteria while still alive, but for a human from a developed area there is little risk.’ The Seed bobbed up and down in agreement.

After consuming the heart which took some time, Nicolai kept cutting in the same area though a little lower, shoving a lung out the way, until he’d found the darker flesh of the man's liver. After chopping a sizeable chunk off, he bit into it, and his running commentary resumed.

‘Tenderer, but the gamey taste is much more powerful. Quite a heavy metallic tone,’ he chewed thoughtfully, thoroughly. ‘A little overwhelming,’ he admitted, ‘but overall, pretty good. The contestant has clearly taken equally good care of their liver.’ He nodded approvingly to the corpse, then looked to his Seed again. It had started crawling along his leg so he gently put it back in its spot.

‘No, no,’ he murmured. ‘Audience members must remain in their seats.’ It remained still this time so he resumed speaking.

‘The liver is one of the most nutritionally dense organs in the body, full of vitamins and minerals, some that are quite difficult to find otherwise.’ He gestured with the chunk of liver as he spoke. ‘One cannot eat too much because in a human, the liver will have a high concentration of a fat-soluble type of vitamin A, which will be debilitating or even lethal if too much is consumed.’ He took a bite, chewed, spat a bit of gristle. ‘But, in moderation, it’s just what we need.’ He winked at the Seed which winked back at him.

Finished, Nicolai wiped his bloody face, accomplishing little as his arms were just as bloody. He considered wiping on the rotted cloth he was wearing but that seemed less hygienic than just leaving the blood coating his face. The thought made him chuckle even though it wasn’t funny, then the chuckle became a cackle and in moments he was roaring with laughter. The world spun around him, a moment of vertigo as he saw himself from different angles, the crypt around him a clean white TV show set, himself covered in blood and wearing rags in the centre, howling with laughter, corpses all around him.

Nicolai abruptly stopped, cutting the laugh off, shaking the vision away, everything spinning around him. He gripped at his head to stabilise himself, groaning at a spike of pain through his skull.

‘What the fuck was I doing just now?’ he muttered, realising his insanity had crept up on him. It was sneaky like that. He found himself staring down accusingly at his Seed, which looked back up at him, wriggling innocently. Suddenly he felt ashamed of himself. The Seed had done nothing wrong, it was pure and perfect.

‘No, I’m sorry,’ he said in reply to its quiet innocence. ‘It’s not your fault I’m completely insane. That’s probably society's fault. Or evolution’s fault. Or perhaps God’s fault. We didn’t ask to be born like this, made like this, right?’ his voice grew quieter with the last words, and he cringed, something in him expecting to receive a blow for the blasphemy. He realised he was rambling.

Pretending to be a food critic while eating someone’s liver isn’t very human. Undeniable. The reminder wasn’t truly necessary, but probably for the best regardless. What was he supposed to be doing right now?

His confusion was quickly replaced by a deep thirst, stabilising his mind. He had been thirsty before but after all the salt in the blood the thirst was especially pressing, and he shook the blue water bottle hopefully. He was happy to hear a tiny sloshing. Popping it open he gulped at it, quickly drinking all that was there, less than a mouthful. But as the water soaked into his mouth and down his throat he found his thirst greatly reduced, the magical water highly efficient just as the examine text had promised.

He looked at his Seed and felt an urge to commentate again which he quickly squashed, then picked his Seed up and placed it gently back into his mouth. It squirmed into position below his tongue, and he felt its happiness to be back in its home, felt himself smile in response. The smile faded. He felt that maybe he should, in fact, be feeling bad. How wrong had his behaviour just now been? He wasn’t sure. He struggled to work it out.

No point dwelling on it. Onwards and upwards, he told himself, staring at his bloodstained hands.

His thoughts moved to his next move. His understanding of this new world was still limited, and he needed to change that. He recalled the Great Eye, the Controller, and what it had told him. That unless he could find this Lizard, he and every other human would die. Should he believe the eye? Nicolai wasn’t sure, but saw no reason not to take it at its word. It was the only clear direction he’d been given since accepting the invitation.

How long did he have to find the Lizard? No way to say, but presumably sooner was better, and he certainly wasn’t going to find them in here.

Time to move on. His eyes turned to the dark exit leading out of the crypt, the only route available to him.