Living life is getting to know yourself and the world.
You will find situations and people who deny or accept a part of you.
Some parts will be tested more than others. And the more they are held under the pressure of the world around them, the more they will mold into something else.
They will become defined convicts that can influence other parts that make a person whole.
It can change their interpretation of future individuals and circumstances to come.
What would you do if X happened?
Would you do Y or Z?
How do you know if A isn't the answer?
Do you refuse to confront X?
That is an answer in itself, 0.
You are pushed in one direction; you can refuse or let yourself be guided.
With such a process of thought, Adam mulled over his situation with a calmer mind.
What did Adam discover after the encounter with Jack?
After being overpowered so one-sidedly and powerlessly grasping at his lungs when blood drowned his airways?
That he hates being powerless?
'No, I knew that before.'
Everyone could safely assume they hated being powerless in any situation. To have their control taken away.
Robbed of their right of choice.
He has experienced this already, suchlike when he couldn't fight back after the words they said about his family.
He understood just how limited two hands were when meeting the fists of many.
Then time made him painfully aware that everyone has a limited time set to end, no matter how much he loves or prays for them.
A certain injury stopped him from getting on his feet like he used to.
It became hard to sleep in winter, the cold seeping inside his ankle like needles. Reminding him even when he slept.
Simple actions that needed any sort of balancing became endeavors.
To lose control of a part of his life.
It was just a part of him.
He still had two arms.
He didn't need someone else to see the world for him, nor did he depend on someone to interpret words spoken to him.
There was a roof over him, even if making ends meet was difficult.
Yet, he spiraled out of control because of it…
…Did he value that part of himself that much?
Yes and no.
Yes, he did value it more than he would've thought of. But that was because it wasn't just his.
It was what his old man left him with.
Boxing.
That old coot claimed to be good for nothing, so he gave him the little he had.
There were mornings when he tried to take a boxing stance, but his ankle would quickly give in.
… One mistake is all it took for his flesh not to feel the same.
The skills he built with the help of his only remaining family member.
Yes, thinking about it, it's not just a strong dislike.
'No, I abhorred the feeling. Aversion that caused me to make many mistakes…'
Yes, he knew it before. Bitterness and anger he often forgot to keep in check in the past.
'That was the reason I kept tasting that damned blood.'
He always loses to Louis when it comes to firepower, to Yakumo and Oliver in raw power, and to Yami with control.
One could say he was powerless, yet he didn't feel as he does now.
'Because I knew I could catch up, I improved and keep doing it now.'
Yes, this life, as hard as it will be, is a chance. No matter what, he wouldn't look at it any other way. Even when it's not really his body, he has never felt better than this.
So, why does he feel it now? This absolute disdain for being helpless?
'The loss of control came from the inside.'
It was different from being vulnerable or exposed.
His body stopped responding, and he could do nothing about it.
The thought of it- the mere mention- to even bear in mind a single second of it.
He felt his blood boil.
The idea that it might happen again…
Not only was there pressure from his environment, but also from the inside of his own body.
And the reason for something similar happening again could be that once the BOR Parasite attempts something.
That he will helplessly grasp at nothing as he loses control.
His new chance will be uselessly taken away as well. To become a puppet…
The fear of losing control of his body to the entity inside him has been a constant fear… almost irrational.
But is it really paranoia when he is given an example of how it could go?
Perhaps, the disdain for that feeling can only grow so much because of the absurd situation he is in.
In no way would he be this desperate of a wasted life had he not lost it once already.
The end is unpredictable, he knows it from experience, it could be at the turn of a corner among all paths he could take to forge his future.
He had no idea he could grow an almost unbearable fear of losing the control of his limbs if not in this absurd situation.
He has never been pushed this hard in his past life. Physically or mentally.
By some twisted luck, death's grasp was loose at the time his life ended.
He is now in a different body, in another world.
In a situation where he's suddenly sharing this new body with a parasite he knows nothing about.
His memories could be gone as well… not through dispersion, but because of this new entity inside him.
Yes, this situation is just bizarre.
'Thinking about it, what I'm about to do isn't that crazy… is it?'
The base is basically empty… This is a good opportunity.
'I'm tired of it.'
It can be postponed. No need to take the gamble now…
But to whom did that thought belong to?
To caution, or cowardice?
'I won't keep playing this stupid game.'
Whoever it belongs to, he will know at the end of this choice.
He can't blindly trust the circumstances to turn out to his benefit if left as is.
'I can't be waiting for answers to find me.'
He has to know.
And most of all
'I'M. FUCKING. DONE. With this shit.'
{...}
This disgust towards not feeling in control of what he perceives as himself, fearing to lose a new chance and body, might just help him do something he could never do with a sane mind.
"Io." He called as he sat on a chair, his hand petting her silky hair, coming to a halt.
The woman jolted. She sat on his lap sideways, inspecting the blood from his healing wound.
She pushed her head off his bare chest, the wound already closing, and she gave him a look.
"Anything?" He asked, cleaning the smudge of blood from her cheek.
"..."
"...?" It took her a bit too long to answer.
"... It's stronger than before; it may be stronger than the weakened blue blood. But it… doesn't approach it." Io trailed off, trying to put something into words.
She continued, "When you made contact with the other Successor, your presence shifted. It was brief, but you became more… unknown."
Unlike her usual aloofness, there was a hint of apprehension.
… Something different from humans, Revenants, and Successors.
Her assessment meant that his BOR Parasite really understood more than it let on…
'Even if it led on jack sh!t.' Adam felt more than annoyed.
Why not take the Queen's blood for itself now that it has taken over a Relic, becoming stronger?
How come he can't use the Relic power he got from John?
No, even before that. After it recovered some strength through normal Blood Codes. Thinking it thoroughly, Adam guessed that it could have completely taken over the Queen's blood before meeting the other Relic.
'After all, the Queen's influence is the weakest within me.
Why not begin with me instead of someone who has an actual chunk of the Queen's will in them?'
So, why not?
It's likely the reason it didn't eat all of the Relic John had, as it might've made Jack wary of Adam and his parasite.
Why, for some reason, Jack didn't seem to find him too suspicious even after it interfered when he peered into Adam with the Queen's eye.
It might be that it remembers Jack and knows what to do, or that it can fool the Queen's intent.
How come the Relic from John didn't grant Adam one of the Queen's powers?
It all comes to one thing.
'Camouflage.'
It understands that it can't stand out if it wants to survive. Only when it met another Relic did it drop the facade to satiate its hunger.
The entity hiding under the Queen's Relic, the Queen's blood, had to come out to satiate its hunger.
…Using the essence of the Queen as a front to hide beneath while accumulating power.
'However, can the parasite do it while relinquishing control to me?'
As if.
So what will it do?
{...}
'As if I'd let you!'
This time, the idea fully settled in his mind.
{!!!}
Yes…
Yet, his fingers keep anxiously tapping the armrests.
Pain hasn't been a stranger in his life, and much less in this one, but accepting the risk of suffering in a confrontation is different from understanding that he has to inflict damage on himself with his own hands.
And his attendant has grown aware of the anxiety.
"..." She gave him that look.
One that she wears often, it barely changes, even in the most bizarre situations. Adam can hardly guess what she is thinking most of the time, since even Io doesn't know what she feels.
But now wasn't one of them.
Her delicate hand reached to lay on top of his. Bringing the anxious tapping to a stop.
"Ah…" There might be a time when he can enjoy this, but that isn't now.
His hand unwillingly broke free from that tender touch and Adam used said hand ruffle her silver hair.
She gave him a strange look because of it, almost huffy.
Like a cat that was patted harder than usual.
"I have to get up."
"..." With no words, she got off his lap and climbed onto the bed and simply watched.
She wouldn't interrupt unless necessary.
'Alright…' He got up from the chair.
It's time.
Grabbing the broken sword from the coffee table with a steadier hand, he felt the cold slime at the bottom of his feet as he walked to the center of the room.
Apoz is covering almost the entirety of the room floor. Its usually slippery property is now duller in touch and color. He thought of changing its texture while experimenting last night, but the most he could do was make it less slippery.
He took off the belt from his pants and wrapped it around his mouth, serving as something to bite down on.
And, slowly, he knelt down.
'Hah, barely half a month here and I'm doing something this crazy…'
The time he had been here isn't long, but sure has felt like months.
Just about two weeks. Not exactly long or too short.
But enough to miss quite a few things from his world.
Some of them came to mind.
'I already missed someone's birthday.' The food meant for such an event might be spoiled by now.
'Pretty sure that my chance for that job interview is down the drain.' He looked in every nook and cranny for it too.
'The appointments with the doctor for physical rehabilitation have become a waste of money now.' Even after coming to reality with how it became an issue in his life…
'There should be an eviction notice on my doorstep now.' That money wasn't enough.
'My plants are in dire need of water.' Those water bills were wasted.
'There are a few apologies I've yet to give as well.' They aren't here to hear them.
Perhaps, after being so removed from his previous life, he realized it wasn't as empty as he believed…
Hate is really blinding.
It was almost funny to him. He reflected on himself and his feelings too late; now there was no one to hear his apology.
Not everything was forsaken just for that one part of himself.
But most of all…
'I'm quite late.'
By now, he should've treated the flowers at least more than once.
And that's not counting the time it has taken him to wake up here or to return if he gets the chance…
…
Life's journey varies from one individual to another.
But its destination is always the same; it is for all living beings.
Death.
So it's not debatable whether you accept the destination or not; you can't stop the journey.
There really isn't a need to be sad.
You shouldn't be.
Acceptance is part of growth-
'-fuck that.'
It had been days.
He had slept, eaten, worked, and rested.
The cycle continued.
And it still hurt.
The routine the old man had him follow almost religiously wouldn't be interrupted, even if the said man was now in a grave.
No matter how much the loss hurt, Adam was very aware of the words he would hear if he stopped.
Very specific words followed by a smack on the back.
'Get the fuck out there!'
Yes, he would follow it, if he couldn't, why bother continuing on…
Pain or not, it wouldn't bring anyone back; it didn't with his parents, and it wouldn't change now.
In front of a grave, the young man who had been kneeling slowly stood up.
All he could do for him was to take care of the flowers he brought from the mountains.
Even if he was alone, he still had his limbs…
Right?
Could it be the days had allowed the pain to fade ever so slightly, or that suffering had been internalized to an extent?
Despite the hurt, he wouldn't be afraid of it. For that is part of living.
There was something muttered.
A promise to a dead man, only carried by the one who remembers him.
It was-
…-
{!!?}
'You surprised I didn't let you in further?'
{...}
What are memories?
They could be considered the essence of a being to an extent.
These recollections develop into experiences that impact the way a person acts and reacts to their environment.
They aren't something a person is in control of; only their interpretation can be changed.
A smell can bring back a memory, it can be a sound, or just a coincidence in a scenario that isn't remotely connected to the recollection it evokes.
'I thought that the sudden resurfacing of core memories was just a product of my new body. After all, I possess a sort of inner world where I can recall most experiences I have lived.'
As if Adam could have an index of his memories at hand.
But an idea had bounced around in his head a few times because it was simply an absurd concept.
He never let it settle, as it could've been paranoia talking. Following it along wouldn't be productive.
But now, he wasn't so sure it was simple anxiety.
In a world where the loss of memories can indicate how close an individual is to going mad, thus coming closer to giving up and becoming Lost, these events didn't seem like coincidences.
It's not likely that Adam will die, given that he isn't alone.
So, how could this BOR Parasite, which doesn't follow regular rules set by other parasites, take over a body?
Originally, he had three ideas.
He had to be near frenzy.
Or being a transmigrator gave him a certain immunity, making it difficult to take over.
One is unlikely to happen since they don't lack Blood Beads, while the other is plain wishful thinking.
As for the third one… The way his memories resurface, as if experiencing them once again…
Digest memories.
The reason his memories keep popping up so vividly at any resemblance or pondering could be that it isn't an effect of his new body; it could be the parasite.
To take over Adam without catching unwanted attention from the outside. In the end, this entity was still a parasite like any other. It needed the body, not the individual.
The human mind is often compared to a mountain lake. One experience can be a rock thrown in the water, and once the rock hits the surface, it will cause reactions.
No matter how serene of mind one attempts to be, ripples will appear in the water. No matter how small the thoughts could be born from the rocks thrown, thoughts lead to pondering, pondering creates a decision, decisions carry intent, and intent can lead to actions.
The parasite could be adding more weight to these rocks so it can sink deeper into the mind. To submerge into the subconscious and slowly spread its influence.
Of course, this was a mere metaphor that Adam could relate to his current situation.
'Oh well.' Adam bit on the belt, anticipating the pain.
Veins of his neck bulged while he bit as hard as he could.
{!??}
'Not like the answers have to be speculated.' He pointed the blade, broken but still sharp, at his abdomen.
His hands were shaking from the white-knuckle grip and fear.
{!!!}
'They are quite close, so why not ask?' He had to make a hole in his abdomen.
Despite the tensing muscles of his arms, his breathing became steadier as he relaxed his core.
{ĎØŋŦ-}
'Too late for talking.' Breaking his ribs would be an unnecessary endeavor.
Thus, reaching for it under the ribs was ideal. Less pain, less hesitation… or so he thought.
{₸ɑĿʞįnĝ!!!}
'Not trusting anything you say until I have your heart in my hand!' Some guts might spill, but it was better than crushing his lungs.
As the unnatural thumping of his chest roared in refusal, the blade in his hands moved.
"Mghph-!" The weapon pierces his stomach, its cold blade almost freezes his actions.
But it was a point of no return; from now on, who knew how the parasite would act if it became aware that Adam's threats were something he would retract just because of a little hurt.
Yes, he needed to do this to make it understand that he was willing to crush it if it was going to get in his way.
Following that logic, he added some self-encouragement.
'Don't be a stranger to the pain, it knows everyone.'
"FPH-!" Adam's small delay, the moment the pain receptors advised him to stop, was short.
The shaky hand gripping the dagger moved faster, creating a wound below his ribs big enough for his other hand to enter.
Blood gushed down his body and quickly created a layer of red over the Apoz that covered the wooden floor.
It brought him an unwanted memory.
When he died under all that rubble, bleeding out, coldness settling in his body as he turned into a corpse…
To think he is doing it now so willingly.
Even so, with the resolve to overcome the pain, he didn't wish to let it stay with him more than it needed to.
A groan escaped his gagged mouth as he added more force to the hand holding the dagger.
The amount of resistance his own flesh and skin opposed didn't help. The unintentional tensing up of his body at the pain spreading through his body made it worse.
'I don't want to forget who I am I don't want to forget who I amI don't want to forget who I amIdon'twanttoforgetwhoIam'
Like a mantra, those words repeated in his mind as his other hand delved into his wound, the walls of his sliced flesh closing as if to interrupt him.
With muffled screams, he bent forward, getting a better angle to reach his heart.
{-šʈʘÞ!}
The wound healed a lot faster than normal.
But he didn't stop, his hand was already-
AHHHH&*#⇄⇒▩◨⅛Ⅻ∬∰∔∑∐≋≫⊩⊩⋱⑦⨋⨊⩳⫸Ἄῌῌῌῌῌ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▮▮▮▬●●●◆▼◤◗◙■■∎
…-
As if his blood was replaced with needles, his entire body experienced pain.
Unbearable agony. All the cells in his body refused his actions.
Every type of anguish washed over.
Stabbing, slashing, crushing, burning and freezing.
It spread through every part of his being.
His hands, feet, chest, eyes, and intestines.
Everything, everywhere, all at once.
It was a mere moment, but that suffering gave him a glimpse of something.
Eternal darkness.
And it swallowed his conscience.
Adam, still on his knees, passed out.
And, as he fell forward-
'get the fuck out there!'
*thunk*
-his forehead was the only thing to meet the floor, layered with his own gore. Even now, his body is arching as when he started.
"arkgrg-" Gone was the steady breathing and composed mind.
Adam was hardly there.
He heaved like a dying animal, drawing every labored breath to remain alive.
His body was covered in sweat, constantly convulsing…
What is mind breaking pain?
It is the suffering that strips a man of his thoughts, beliefs, and convictions.
Taking all away from him, it left a shrivelling man, instilled with one of the most primal emotions.
Fear
Stare death in the eye?
Such bullshit.
Just because he believes he can.
Thinking that saying so makes him capable of it.
No one wants to die; everyone is afraid.
Why did he think that dying once made him capable of looking at that eternal abyss that everyone avoids looking into?
Pure asinine, that's what.
It is the fear of death that has accompanied humanity since its very beginning. It drives humans towards survival. Avoid predators and remove themselves from a dangerous environment.
This terror filled his head with nothing but the idea of stopping himself from walking into danger.
He doesn't have a fallback if he makes a mistake now.
There is no foreign intuition for this situation. His teammates can't help him either.
He is on his own. It is his hand that guides him.
But he had not only fear, he had an obsession.
One that has only grown firmer in this crazier world.
One towards a life he wanted.
Waste it all because he is afraid to take a plunge? Let his fate be decided by someone else?
Be afraid of not living, not dying.
Fear isn't the only primal instinct in response to danger. And at this moment, it showed.
Rage
It drove his obsession to the edge.
It all boiled over.
Until-
"-mMNph!" Adam forced his hand further. Like a rabid dog hurling towards danger.
Amidst the torrent primal instinct for survival and an obsession standing against it, courage gained form.
A twisted form of bravery rooted in the fear of wasting a new chance at life and being deprived of living in his own body.
Adam let out a suppressed scream, but he persevered.
His eyes have never been this bloodshot.
All of his pain receptors were firing up, but he persevered.
"Kuh-" The air involuntarily left his chest as his hand advanced near his heart.
{Ŷʘǔ-!!!}
It was about to happen again, but he persevered.
This time, he knew it.
Black spots in his vision before it was all consumed.
His ringing ears popped, and the sound became something different.
The smell of his blood became so intense that he couldn't even call it a scent.
His warm blood felt as if it boiled and froze at the same time.
The leather taste in his mouth became stale.
Numbness invaded all limbs…
All transformed into many things before reaching a certain stage at the same time.
Searing pain.
AHHHH▮▮▮▮▮▮
However, he knew why it happened at this exact moment.
▰▰▰▰▰▰
He still mustered something, knowing that his hand had grasped it.
▬▬▬▬
A mad dog doesn't let go of prey.
{A●●}
Struggling to keep a sense of consciousness amid anguish, a question was bellowed with seething ire.
▼◤◗
'ŶʘÛ!- WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?'
▬▬▬▬▬▬▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▮▮▮▬●●●◆▼◤◗◙■■∎
He didn't know when it came to an end.
But lucidity came back partly.
"Ag$#" Through the gag, a scream escaped.
No, it could barely be called a squeal.
Currently, Adam doesn't even feel his mouth correctly.
His entire world was burning.
Some of his senses came back, others didn't.
He couldn't tell black from white.
But he could tell blue from red.
Up was up, while down was above.
He couldn't find his legs, yet nothing else mattered in this state of madness but the prey in his hands.
In the fog of unknown perception and near delirium of mind, Adam, with worn resentment, asked again.
'Ŵho… are… you?'
{...}
Ah…
It was that silence again.
Only this time, the rage he felt at such blatant disregard was about to be followed through.
He bit down on the belt harder than ever, his teeth almost cracking.
With bloodshot eyes, he began to squeeze-
Adam couldn't see blue, but he could smell the sharpness of the dagger. He tasted the red of his blood running down his body. He somehow felt the sound of his own skin.
Yes, a lot of his senses were now working, but their responses were distorted…
And in such a situation, he heard that noise quite clearly.
{I DON'T KNOW!}
The growl of a beast he couldn't even begin to imagine turned into the closest form of human speech he had heard from it.
Rough and coarse to the ear, full of panic.
Even with bewilderment at such unexpected clarity, Adam knew what to ask.
'The Vestiges I asked you, ɱŶ Vestiges, are they the ones in the Depths?'
{...no.}
'Wʯere are ɱINə?'
{...your… place of 'death'}
There was a lot to ponder with just those two answers.
But Adam struggled to muse about them while his senses were in such a disarray.
If it were possible to throw up inside one's mind, it would've happened more than once by now.
'Ære you hindering my Blood Codes in any way?'
{...}
It took too long-
*squeeze-*
AHHHH{▬●●●◆▼◤◗◙■■∎ĀǍĂåąbĆɐʙĆċɔɑɓɗĎĔɘɜɠĝɥɧîǏÏĴɟɨKʞ}◙▰▮◆▬≋⨊■∐◆⫸₱௹
…-
{NEED VESTIGES- STOP- NEED VESTIGES- STOP- CAN'T MOLD CODES WITHOUT VESTIGE-}
When Adam came to be, he heard begging.
'...ªlright.'
Without much inquiry, he accepted it. Not that he wouldn't want the entity to explain, but he felt something was wrong…
Of course, squeezing a BOR Parasite, the organ that keeps all cells in a Revenant in order, isn't without consequences.
Adam felt it by now.
The fog that distorted his senses became overbearing. Mustering the will to formulate thoughts became a heavier endeavor.
The flow of his thoughts escaped through his fingers. It became hard to hold on.
Fading…
He is sinking.
Likely the reason the parasite actually yelled so desperately.
'Cruz, the part of her that should be with me… Whəre is sʯe?'
{...Torn}
It didn't say that it was destroyed or consumed, but torn… whatever it could mean, Adam would think about it later.
'...₦ame.'
{???}
'How do you addrĘss yoûrself as?'
{...Don't know. I am me.}
'So am ï… I'll just call you Parasite.'
He couldn't be bothered to come up with a name.
Not when he felt like his mind was dissolving like cotton sugar in water.
Something was wrong… horribly so.
But he couldn't just leave without saying something.
If the world is mad, you'd better be insane.
Even if an extra ounce of pressure meant ashen death, the hand gripping his heart became steadier, colder.
'Whątever you are doing to inspect my memories, ŶǑ∐ bɘtter sto₱… and, when I call you, you better fucking answer or I will Çrusɦ you. I already have enough to deal with outside.'
{...Fine}
Letting go of the parasite, Adam's senses began to return slowly.
Up was up, and down was down.
The taste of vomit settled in his mouth.
His ears were still ringing, but he could now hear.
He felt warmth but also the absence of something.
And his vision seemed to be gone from one side.
No longer biting onto the belt, a groan escaped his mouth once he realized the state of his body.
He didn't need to lift his head from Io's supporting shoulder, whom he didn't even know when she got there, to see the state of his body.
He felt it.
It was painful enough to wail over it, but perhaps the tiredness of mind after the grueling task made expressing it difficult.
An eyesocket was now a hole with dripping grains of ash, his legs were bundles of dust, and parts of his skin had crumbled. The hole in his stomach remained the same.
"Adam." A certain voice granted him some clarity, like it always does. "...is this something you have to do again?"
"... I'm not certain." He answered without dwelling on the nature of Io's question.
He simply felt sluggish in mind and body beyond belief.
"Can you stay like this for a bit?" Though he didn't wait for an answer, he passed out.
Both of them on their knees, Io held Adam, lifting him from the blood and sweat covering the floor.
Without minding the dirtiness, she answered the unresponsive Adam, "Take your time."
____________________________________________________________________________
Chapter title: I'm The Captain.
Word Count: 4,865
A man ruled by fear can be predictable, a man broken by it isn't. A rat doesn't even have to be cornered; it just needs to think it is.
Anyway, the ore in Adam's balls turned into steel and asked the real questions.
Though, Parasite is as lost as he is… lel