Muriel (1)

Darkness, and fog.

Distant screams and drunken revelry drifted up from every corner of the camp.

All of it was the product of me and my nest.

And yet, despite that cacophony, Muriel and I stood here observing each other without a trace of agitation.

When to strike, and how to retreat.

How to dismantle the numbers the enemy held in reserve, and how to recover if that failed.

She and I were enemies, but we were thinking the exact same things.

Just before we stormed the camp, Mother of the Sky had briefed me on our opponent.

'She fights by constantly reinforcing herself.'

From what I'd heard, Muriel possessed a combat style that diverged sharply from your typical Cultist.

Space Survival was a game that promised a high degree of freedom, but it didn't let players stray entirely from the playstyles the developers had laid out.

A Mega Corp player gorging on people to collect genetic essences like some Amorph, or an Amorph pursuing a strictly vegetarian build — plays like those made progression itself impossible.

Which meant that by the time you reached ranker status, you could generally predict what tactics and strategies an opponent would bring based on their race and faction.

Against a Star Union cyborg, the odds favored self-augmentation through various modules and a battlefield littered with prepared traps; against a Cultist, it was usually relentless pressure from a sprawling arsenal of utility psychic powers.

There were exceptions, of course, but you could say they rarely strayed far from the broad strokes.

So if she'd played her trump card — a horned Cultist — then the most effective approach would have been the quintessentially "Cult" tactic: toying with the enemy through dozens, hundreds of psychic techniques.

'That's how it should have gone, anyway.'

According to Mother of the Sky, Muriel was actually more adept at close-quarters brawling than at wielding psychic powers.

Lore-wise, the Cult were masters of the supernatural but physically weaker than baseline humans. This was reality now, so she could have pumped her physical stats somehow, but for a Cultist to engage a Volf trained in deification in melee combat — and win — was next to impossible.

Yet Muriel stood outside that common sense entirely.

'That's a style the cyborgs tend to favor.'

Exhibit one: the deep-blue full-body suit she wore.

It looked strikingly similar to the Nano Spartan Module in its activated state.

As the name suggested, the Nano Spartan Module was auxiliary equipment that sheathed the entire body in a nanotech-reinforced suit, boosting physical capabilities by leaps and bounds. It brought the wearer up to roughly a hair's breadth below an Amorph or a Volf, which was why cyborg rankers typically deployed it when committing to close combat.

'That's a cyborg-exclusive module. How is she using it?'

Somehow, Muriel was wearing equipment that no other race — Cult included — could equip, right there on her body for everyone to see.

'Insight doesn't turn up anything either.'

I'd tried Insight on the off chance, but the only thing it revealed was the golden short spear she carried — the High Priest's Golden Spear.

'Is it some new technique that nullifies Insight, or...'

Whether it was unreadable because Muriel was a player, I couldn't say. Not yet.

'Plenty of questions to ask her.'

After a deliberation that lasted barely a few seconds, I withdrew my erosion tentacles through the holes in my back.

Just as I had balked at abilities I'd never seen from her in the game, she now frowned at mine.

Muriel began sliding slowly sideways. She had evidently picked her angle of attack.

One thing remained now.

The signal flare to end the probing phase.

"Hah!"

First blood went to Muriel. She barked a short kiai and kicked off the ground.

The instant her feet left the earth, my erosion tentacles fired at her in a coordinated volley.

She parried them with her short spear.

Then could she block my tail as well?

I pressed my upper body flat against the ground and whipped my massive tail upward in a vicious arc.

Judging she couldn't block this one either, she twisted mid-air — literally running across empty space, flagrantly defying the laws of physics as she leapt toward me and thrust out her left hand.

Her hand flared violet, and my movements slowed dramatically. The effect of Distortion Field, one of the higher-tier psychic techniques.

The Distortion Field drastically reduced the speed of every enemy within a fixed space while making the caster blindingly fast. Slowing me while buffing herself, in other words — but there was one thing she'd overlooked.

'I have the Psychic Reflection Carapace.'

"What a pain in the ass!"

The expression of the woman hovering in the air contorted. Thirty percent of the Distortion Field's negative effects were being reflected straight back onto her.

Still, it was true that she could move far faster than I could.

She evaded my sluggish tail and countered with her short spear. She'd fed it plenty of blood already, because the High Priest's Golden Spear punched through my tail's carapace with unsettling ease.

Having punched a hole in my tail, Muriel landed on my dorsal armor. Her spear came down in a relentless drumbeat, riddling my carapace with punctures.

'I need to disengage.'

Thanks to the nest's effects, my wounds healed quickly — but that didn't mean I could just eat every attack that came my way.

I wrenched my whole body into a violent spin to throw her off my back, then swung my horns to hammer her as she went flying.

Unlike a moment ago, she didn't dodge. Instead, she swept her short spear down in a long vertical arc — clearly intending to cleave through my horn and my head together.

The instant horn met spear, a sound like a blacksmith's hammer ringing off a blade cracked through the air.

"What the—?!"

Muriel's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eyes went wide at the unexpected result.

My horns were built from the same structure as my head carapace, the hardest part of my body. So even against the High Priest's Golden Spear, they'd done no more than scratch — not severed.

'A few more clashes and it would come off, of course.'

She knew that as well as I did. She spun the spear in a full revolution and leveled its tip at my horn.

To stop her, my erosion tentacles lunged at her from every direction.

I hurled the tentacles at her again to keep her from closing the distance. To block that, my erosion tentacles surged at her from all sides.

"Tch!"

Clicking her tongue, Muriel kicked off the ground and fell back. A beat behind, the tentacles slammed down into the space she'd vacated.

Dodging with a display of acrobatic grace while simultaneously flicking her spear in short strokes, she swung her metal blade sideways and carved through one of the tentacles.

A dizzying wave of agony washed over me, but the trait made it bearable.

Trading one tentacle bought me an opening, and I slipped free of the Distortion Field's zone.

"Where do you think you're going!"

Muriel moved to renew the chase. I raked the ground hard with my tail.

She floated free of my tail with effortless ease — but my intent had never been to hit her.

The moment the thick cloud of sand kicked up by my sweeping tail blanketed the space between us, I tore into the earth with my combat arms.

A pit yawned open in an instant, and I plunged inside.

Even with my line of sight severed, she apparently had a means of tracking me — her spear drove straight for my hindquarters.

The short spear came tearing through the dust. To stop her, the spike-launcher organ at the tip of my tail vomited out a hail of bone spines.

"Tsk."

While she was busy deflecting the spines shrieking out of the dust cloud, I burrowed fully underground.

"God, you're annoying!"

I could hear Muriel fuming above me.

She had some detection ability, so she could track my position — but with me burrowing through the earth, laying down the Distortion Field would be difficult.

'She can only cast it within her line of sight, after all.'

Muriel pursued me overhead, jabbing her short spear down into the soil. The blade punched through the ground as easily as piercing tofu, stabbing at my back and tail.

Fortunately her detection ability wasn't flawless, and she failed to land anything fatal.

'Wounds like these will heal in no time.'

Ignoring Muriel's harassment, I bored across the underside of the central plaza at a blistering pace.

Digging and moving at speed, I passed the tunnels I'd excavated earlier, the ones leading back to my nest. Those would come in handy at the decisive moment later.

'But right now, this comes first.'

The Tooth Fairy Nests along my spine burst open one by one. The reinforced flesh-eating fleas clawed their way up through the soil with their razor teeth, rising toward the surface.

Even as I released them, I activated my Acidic Fungal Gland — but instead of firing, I held the fungal liquid pooled in my mouth.

'That should do it.'

Preparations complete in a matter of minutes, I shattered the surface and erupted.

My twenty-meter bulk warped the ground as I surged upward, and a tidal wave of sand, stone, and soil crashed down over Muriel.

The instant her vision drowned beneath the avalanche of dirt, I brought the Bone Axe down on her head.

A strike at the speed of lightning itself. But she responded with unshakable calm, snapping the Distortion Field open.

Bare meters remained between the axe and her skull when my body slowed to a crawl. She arched her back and slipped out from under my blade without difficulty.

Then the golden short spear drove into my flank as if guided by its owner's will alone. Black blood geysered from the wound, and a smile bloomed across her face.

But the one who truly wanted to laugh was me.

'Got you.'

My combat arms clamped down on the spear lodged in my side. So that she couldn't pull it free.

Muriel froze mid-smile. Her eyes said she understood it was a trap — but it was already too late.

The Tooth Fairies I'd summoned from the earth moments before swarmed out and latched onto her face and upper body.

"These cheap tricks—!"

Blinded, Muriel let ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out an irritated roar. And she was right — they were nothing but tricks. Losing her line of sight didn't cancel the Distortion Field.

'But that was never what I was really after.'

My jaws split wide open on both sides, and the acidic fungal liquid that had been waiting inside my mouth came surging out like a firehose.

The Distortion Field only slowed the movement of living things within its zone. It couldn't bend every other law of physics along with them.

"!"

Blinded as she was, Muriel felt it by instinct ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠alone and snapped her head aside. Most of the fungal spray went wide; only a portion splashed across one side of her face.

But the terror of the acidic fungus didn't lie solely in its hyper-corrosive nature.

Even a single droplet could spread in the blink of an eye.

"GYAAAAAAGH!"

The fungus crept outward, melting away one side of her face and a horn, and Muriel screamed. The Tooth Fairies obscuring her vision were gloriously oxidized by the spray as well.

'Now!'

Her concentration must have shattered, because the Distortion Field's grip weakened.

I seized the opening and whipped my tail with everything I had.

"Kgh!"

The spear tore free of my flank and went flying off with its owner. Muriel hit the ruined plaza floor in a graceless tumble.

'She blunted it.'

Even with half her face melting, Muriel had layered several defensive measures on top of each other to blunt my attack.

Ghost Skin — a psychic technique that reduced physical damage taken to ten percent at the cost of fifty percent increased psychic damage — all the way to the round shield that had instantly ejected from her suit's wrist.

My blow had connected, but it probably hadn't dealt her anything critical.

'If she were pure Cult, that attack would have put her down...'

"Shit shit shit shit!"

She'd been leaning on her spear to stay upright, but within seconds she'd straightened her stance. The suit enveloping her body crept up her face like a spider's web, stitching her wounds closed.

'...I knew it.'

In her rapidly regenerating face, I could see things no ordinary living creature should possess.

Beneath her half-melted skin, where white bone should have been, lay an ivory alloy skeleton — and nestled between strands of crimson muscle, tiny machines and chips.

It had been a question from the start.

By my memory, Muriel in the game had been a cyborg belonging to the Spacedogs.

And yet she wielded cyborg-exclusive equipment while also using psychic powers freely — the signature organ of the Cult.

I'd found her preference for close combat odd, so un-Cultist-like, but now every question had resolved itself.

'A fusion of Cultist and cyborg.'

Standing before me was the combination every cyborg player in the game had prayed for — and the combination that balance had rendered absolutely impossible.

The cyborg, her melted horn retracted and her regeneration complete, glared daggers at me.

"How. In. The. Hell. Is. This. Possible?"

Balance aside, the Cult's lore-fragile bodies were supposed to be incapable of surviving cyborg augmentation surgery. Not a single Cultist I'd encountered had ever tried to resist the parasite either — for the simple reason that they couldn't endure the agony.

Taking all that into account, the odds that Muriel had started as a Cultist and been converted into a cyborg were low.

'More likely the reverse.'

She'd probably started as a cyborg and changed her base race to Cultist through some means.

'Not unlike the Transcendence System I carry.'

A shapeshifting ability resembling the Volf lineage. A ship-seizure power that should belong only to the Outspacers.

Me, transcending the limits of the Amorph through the Transcendence System.

Her, breaking past the limits of the cyborg to grasp psychic power in her hands.

Somehow, it felt eerily similar.

"...Fine. Rank 5, was it?"

Instead of answering me, Muriel pressed firmly at her throat with her empty left hand. Where her fingers passed, translucent button-like shapes flickered into existence and vanished.

Then the effect of whatever she'd pressed made itself known.

The muscles across her body swelled dramatically, and her eyes blazed with violet light. Her left arm — the one not gripping the High Priest's Golden Spear — fused with her suit and reshaped itself into a mechanical limb.

'She's absorbed Psionium.'

Just as an Amorph that consumed Psionium could draw on next-stage evolution, the same held true for Cultists and cyborgs. Cultists gained access to psychic techniques normally locked behind specific quests; cyborgs had their module slot limit lifted entirely.

'So which race did she upgrade?'

For a cyborg based on a human, whose race technically counted as cyborg, you'd assume the Psionium simply unlocked her module limit — but Muriel was a far more complicated creature.

With a race listed as Cult-cyborg — an absurd chimera of a build — there was no way to say offhand which side had been enhanced.

'Maybe both.'

The headband she wore dissolved into a violet halo floating behind her head, and with that, her transformation was complete.

"You made me burn through my Psionium and equipment I'd been saving. You're going to pay for that. In full. Later."

Having said her piece, she arrived in front of me in the space of a heartbeat. It was a speed that even an Amorph with transcendent senses could barely register.

'Danger!'

The instant I instinctively twisted my head, a threatening shriek of torn air followed. It was the sound of her spear thrusting at me.

If I hadn't dodged, that attack would have skewered me straight through the crown of my skull.

'Her physical stats have gone up by an insane margin.'

Acknowledging that, I lashed out with my tail.

The woman who had been dodging my tail only moments ago didn't move this time. Instead, her mechanical arm caught it. And then the grip began to tighten.

She wasn't content merely shattering the thick carapace of my tail — she was snapping the bones inside it as well. With that kind of force, she could rip my entire tail off with her left hand.

I tore the Bone Axe free with a combat arm and brought it down on her.

But she blocked it effortlessly with her short spear. Her strength had grown so monstrous that my striking arm tingled with the recoil.

"Don't you get tired of this? You think ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠these tricks will work on me twice?"

"Oh? ·Let's· find· out."

"What?"

The sadistic smile faltered as she shot back a challenge.

'I already know what a deranged piece of work you are.'

Hidden cards weren't her exclusive property.

And pinning her in place was precisely so I could play mine.

I seized her with my combat arms and erosion tentacles so she couldn't escape.

Beneath our feet, the parasites I'd planted long ago sent up their signal.

The host is coming up. Now.

"You've got to be—!"

The instant Muriel shrieked, the ground beneath us exploded.

"MURIEEEEEL!"

What tore up through the earth was a lion's massive forepaw.

With a roar like lightning striking down from the heavens, the lion's paw lashed out for both of Muriel's legs.

"Damn it!"

Just as her calves were half-severed, her body flared violet and vanished from my grasp.

Then, from far across the plaza, she reappeared — utterly unharmed.

"You absolute shitstain Morph-fucker bastard! What kind of Amorph are you supposed to be?!"

"What· do· you· mean?"

"Since when do Amorphs travel with a party?!"

"That· was· in· the· game· lore."

"Rrrgh!"

While I answered her fury with perfect equanimity, Mother of the Sky came crawling up out of the ground.

"You brain-damaged bitch, Choi Seoa, you just won't fucking die...!"

"Before I've avenged my family — before I've chewed every last scrap of your flesh from your bones — I can't die. Not even if I wanted to."

Muriel, juiced on Psionium. Mother of the Sky, vowing vengeance through tears of blood.

And me, freshly ascended to Young Adult.

The main cast had all assembled. Which meant it was time for round two.