POV: Abraxes
Hours had passed since the initial conversation. Night had arrived. The sun had set. The cold had crept in. I lay in my bed, a hard mattress with a thin blanket and half a pillow.
It is uncomfortable. I'm shivering. My teeth are chattering. My bones ache. The bruises that litter my body are tender. It makes sleep impossible, for pain is everywhere. But it is not my body alone which keeps me away from the realm of dreams.
My mind is akin to a storm. A maelstrom of my emotions. My fears and insecurities. It feels crowded, packed, yet hidden behind a veil of smoke. It's difficult to think because there is so much to consider. So much to feel.
It drives me mad, for my body does not know what it is feeling. I wish to cry, to sob and tear my own heart out. But then I am burning. Like a wildfire that does not stop and is all encompassing.
Then I go hollow once again. A new thought, a new emotion. It is a vicious cycle which I cannot escape. It resembles my situation on this ship. This titan of metal that splits the violent waves with its mere presence. This ship which I am trapped inside of. With no voice, no choice, no escape.
All I can do is wait. Wait until I am driven mad by my own fears. Wait until we arrive to Ασία. Wait until I am sent to my own death. For I am a Mercury. I am a slave to this society. Another number of the thousands who have already met their end.
The thought fills me with wrath. That same wildfire spreading through my veins like liquid fire. For it is unfair. It is unjust. It is not human.
It ignites my desire. My dream to burn this society to the ground. To make the rich and the strong choke on the toxic smoke. To watch as they die gasping for air. But then the anger passes, and the cycle repeats.
Because I am not strong enough. I am but an ant, a rat. In a world controlled by lions and falcons. I can not make changes, nor can I burn and rebuild the world, for I am held back. By my status, by my lack of power.
My dream is to become something more than a number. To become more than another statistic. I want to break the mould of my forefathers, to do what no other Mercury ever has. To ascend above all others.
But my dream…it seems impossible. It looks impossible, sounds it, feels like it. Yet I still dream. Because the chances are low that I will survive Ασία, but they are not zero. They are not exact.
It gives me hope.
The wildfire is no more. It is replaced but not forgotten. Righteous anger burns through me, but I focus it somewhere else. I turn it into fuel. For the kindling embers of hope beginning to ignite.
My chances are small. But they are there, and it is something.
I cling to it with all the strength I have. I am exhausted. My mind aches. My body is bruised. It is cut and hurt and cold. But my will is strong. My desires are selfish and selfless alike. For this will benefit not only me but all others. But only if I make my dream come true.
I must, I tell myself. Because it is the only thing keeping me going now. The only thing keeping me alive. It is a purpose for my existence besides survival. Besides the basic instincts of any mindless beast. It is honourable, I tell myself. It makes me human, I remind myself.
It calms the guilt I have felt since scarring Kaitos.
The cycle finally breaks. I feel like I can breathe again. But rest is still far from my reach. So, I begin to think. I begin to plan. To become something more than a Mercury, to do what my forefathers never could. I must be different.
I must think differently. I must become something new entirely.
Already, I have accomplished half of my goal. Because I am different. Not to just the Mercury's. But also, to the Zinc's. To the Coppers, the Titanium's. The Silvers and Aureate's.
In truth, I have more of a chance than any Mercury before me. For I am a not just a slave with a collar. I am a Chimera. With the potential to bring the world to its knees.
My runes blink to existance.
[===]
[Name]: [Abraxes Basilus]
[True Name]: [All for One]
[Axion Core]: [Legionnaire]
[Sacral Essence]: [2/500]
[Affinities]: [Assimilation]/[Perception]/[Light]/[Silver]/[Cold]/[Ice]/[Gravity]/[Instinct]/[Body]
[Blessing]: [-]
[Divine Domain]: [-]
[Bloodline]: [Bloodline of The Silver Light]/[Bloodline of the Arctic Gale]
[Innate Talent]: [The ability to sense and assimilate Bloodlines, Talents and Affinities through touch]
[I]-[Axion Talent]: [-]
[===]
[Impetus Talent]-[Sentry of Ruin]
[I]: [The ability to perceive the underlying elements of various concepts]
[=]
[Impetus Talent]-[Iron Tusk]
[I]: [The ability to encase your body within silver light]
[=]
[Impetus Talent]-[Cold Throne]
[Innate Ability]: [The ability to be immune to lower temperatures]
[I]: [The ability to lower the temperature around you and your body]
[=]
[Impetus Talent]-[Tricksters Hoax]
[I]: [The ability to lighten and increase your bodies gravity]
[=]
[Impetus Talent]-[Blood of Demise]
[I]: [The ability to enhance and control all six of your senses]
[===]
[Bloodline of The Silver Light]-[Iron Tusk]
[I]: [The ability to manifest and weave a thread of silver light]
[=]
[Bloodline of The Arctic Gale]-[Cold Throne]
[I]: [The ability to create and control arctic wind]
[===]
I am untrained. Inexperienced and lacking critical information. But in a world ruled by the strong, it is often forgotten that versatility is also a strength. A strength that many lacked. A strength, which I alone held mastery over.
For the first time in my life, I have an edge. Something which tips the scales in my direction. It nearly brings a grin to my face.
Ever so slowly, I begin to learn how to wield my Impetus Talents. It's difficult at first, my inexperience and knowledge too shallow to provide any meaningful results. But with Keres' Talent. It steadily becomes easier to bridge that gap with a supernatural level of understanding.
The cold terrorising my wounds vanishes. Not instantly. But steadily. My teeth stop chattering without me noticing. My body begins to feel warmer. I am no longer shaking as if I am on deaths door.
I am careful, and I am learning.
My senses prickle, their almost hesitant, before my understanding shifts once more and they are falling under my control. My eyes adjust to the dark, and I can see again.
This is the Impetus Talent of the guard from before. I don't hate him, but I do wish the worst on him. He manhandled me. Treated me like a rat belonging to trash. As if I was lesser than him. As if we did not have the same blood running through our veins.
I push those thoughts to the side and focus. My hearing is delicate. Sensitive to how I manipulate it. Too much and everything is too loud. Too little and I am deaf to the world. I find an equilibrium. A middle ground.
Sylas' snoring grows quieter. The world outside becomes perceivable. I hear the breathing of an Enforcer. Standing right outside of the cage they threw me in. I can hear their heartbeat.
It's slow. Quiet. Its similar enough to both Rowans and Sylas' for me to understand that they are asleep. Its high, just above the centre of the door and I know that they are standing.
It's almost humours.
'I wonder what Impetus Talent they have.' The thought comes unbidden, almost as if it was a creation of its own being. I feel like a kleptomaniac. Suddenly consumed by the urge to see what they have. But it lasts only for a moment. Before I can force myself to focus.
Maybe I have a developing addiction. But it would not be my first. I am addicted to my own survival, after all. An addiction which has been sowed into my very being from birth. It is enough to make me think clearly again.
I sit up slowly, careful to not open the healing cut across my back. The bed beneath me creeks, and in the quiet of the night, it sounds far too loud. But neither of my bunkmates stir, and I relax.
My affinity for gravity stirs as I pull on it. At first, it courses through my entire body. I begin to almost float. My lack of muscles and any meaningful weight making me light. But my understanding grows quickly, and I am able to alter how I manipulate the energy.
The gravity moves from my body, and I push it solely into my right arm. I feel uneven. My arm is floating. But I can barely move it. So, I change how I operate it. Gravity lessens; I can feel my muscles fall under my command again.
It is still light. Almost weightless. As if I have neither bone, nor flesh or blood flowing through me. But I can move my arm now. Control it better. Next, I make my hand alone heavier. It almost snaps the bones in my wrist in half.
It is only because of my sixth sense. The sense of danger that all humans are born with and possess. Now enhanced and under my control. That warns me in time to lessen the building gravity within my hand.
A frown mares my face, and I wonder what I did wrong. Keres Talent burns within me, like lightning in a bottle, and I begin to inspect the unique energy flowing within me. It almost seems hollow. As if it was an empty void that reflected everything.
In intrigues me. But my mind is finally becoming tired, and this is turning into a distraction. So, I leave it. Promising myself that I would learn more tomorrow. After I've had the rest, I need. The rest I deserve.
I do not move onto Nero's first Axion Talent, nor do I touch his Bloodline Talent. They are too noticeable. Just as Iron Tusk—Gaius'—Talent it. Instead, I focus on the remaining Bloodline.
My Eidos tells me it is a thread I am summoning. It is what I expect. But what appears between my hands is too thin and too small to be labelled a thread. It is akin to a strand of hair. It looks weak. Useless.
But when I graze my finger over it. I bleed.
A small grin begins to manifest on my face at the sight of my blood. Not because I enjoy pain. Nor do I relish in watching my blood flow so freely. But because it is sharp. It is useful.
I want to create more, to see how far I can push it.
But my Axion Core is young. Born only hours before the sun had set. It is as spiritually weak as I am physically. It is small and cannot contain much Sacral Essence within it.
So, I allow the thread of silver to dissolve within my hands. Watching as tiny motes of light linger in the air, before they too disappear.
I let out a small sigh and rub at my cut finger.
It is peaceful now.
My mind is assured that there is a way for him. A slim chance, but a chance, nonetheless. I remind myself, that my entire life has been nothing but small pockets of survival. This is no different.
There will be those that are stronger, that has never changed. There will be abominations which I could find only in my nightmares, that is a change. But I am not as weak as I once was.
As I once thought.
My versatility is my strength. My mind is my strength. My spirit is my strength.
I lay back on the bed. The cold no longer bothers me. It is not biting, and I am no longer shivering. I feel a semblance of calm run though me. My senses slowly become what they once were.
My ears are invaded by Sylas' snoring not a moment sooner. I am tempted to smother him in his sleep. But it is out of the man's control, and I allow that temptation to pass.
He is friendly, enough that I can lower my guard around him.
But Rowan…something is different about him. Something wrong. He does not speak like a Mercury. He does not act like one of us. He is different, and that makes me cautious.
So even as my eyes close, and dreams finally take me. I keep my sixth sense active. Directed at both the door and the man. I will be awake at even the slightest thought of hate. At the smallest movement filled with murderous intentions.
Sleep takes me, and I allow myself to rest.