Page 51 of Godslayer
Now it’s Finn’s turn to stop mid-sentence. Because one of the plates is now showing a view of the worker opening one up.
I squint my eyes, holding my breath as the worker pries off the top of the cocoon, setting it aside.
Finn and I gasp in unison.
Because what’s inside the cocoon isn’t a butterfly or a silk worm.
It’s a woman.
A grown woman who looks suspiciously like…
Finn leans in, desperate to make sense of what we’re seeing.
Because it’s…Clara.
PART II
“It is difficult to overstate how vital the augments were to the stabilization of post-collapse society. Though the exact date of their emergence remains disputed, most historians agree their rise was not born from ambition, but necessity. They did not seek to rule; they were made to survive. To endure where others failed. To execute what others refused. For a time, they succeeded. And in that success, the world was quiet.”
—Dr. Elena Nareen, Desert Interface Research Group, annotation recovered from The Line So Bright Complex, Sector 3 Vault
13 - TYSE
The train left the Delta Factoryat a pretty good speed, but only minutes in the journey it slows down to navigate a series of many windin’, serpentine curves and stays that way for hours. Right now, we’re goin’ so slow I almost wanna get out and walk.
But there’s no point in doin’ that. Eventually, these twists and turns will end and we’ll arrive at Epsilon Station. Then, it should pick up speed.
So I force myself to relax and be patient. Besides, it’s better for Clara if the rest of the day goes slow. She fell asleep almost immediately, the back-and-forth rockin’ motion becoming somethin’ of a lull.
I feel like she was looking better back there in Delta city. Refreshed after I stole all that spark from her, then filled her back up.
But she doesn’t look refreshed now. She looks exhausted.
We’re not even at the end of day one.
How’s it gonna go from here?
It occurs to me that Delta City was givin’ her spark. Maybe that’s why the air was so thick with it? Maybe it was feedin’ those baby gods? Maybe it was feedin’ Clara too?
Even if she wasn’t actively pullin’ it in or whatever, just being inside Delta City was enough to kinda keep her goin’.
But being on the train is a drain.
It’s likely that anywhere without Spark is gonna have the same effect. Without thinkin’, I focus my vision display and start lookin’ for a world. And it’s surprisin’ how instinctual it feels, this searchin’. Because I only seriously started doin’ it today.
I need to give her some more. I need tofeed her.
But like I figured, this train line—bein’ underground and all—isn’t exactly crowded in any of the nearby worlds in my frequency stack. I have to look for a very long time before I find people. And then, longer still, before I find someone I won’t mind killing.
It’s an old man. He looks like a miner. Got a crude basket or somethin’ on his back and it’s filled with rocks of some kind. Maybe worth somethin’, maybe not. His face is pale and wrinkled, like he doesn’t see much sun. And he’s feeble, despite the pack on his back. His steps are slow and deliberate. Careful. Like a single misstep means death.
It’s not like I wanna kill him. I don’t. I’ve done plenty of killin’ in my time, but it’s not my first choice."
But Ineedspark. BecauseClaraneeds spark.
And she is young with a whole life ahead of her, and he is old, his life behind him now.
It only takes a couple of minutes to drain him, because he doesn’t have much spark to take. And five minutes later, Clara’s cheeks are a sweet shade of pink. She blinks up at me, smilin’ from the pillow she’s made of my lap.
