The Violet wasp had obviously laid countless eggs in her life, since populating the hive was one of her most important responsibilities. Naturally, she had to be quite experienced at this – at the very least, there was no doubt in Percy's mind that producing a Starry Breeder's egg was downright effortless for the Queen.
Giving birth to a new descendant, however, was clearly as far from effortless as anything could be…
Through their connection, he felt the strain on her soul, her entire body convulsing. The colourful dots on her exoskeleton shone brighter than ever before, as even her core went above and beyond, pumping so much beast mana into her circulatory system that Percy thought for a second that she was going to activate a boosting art by mistake. Flashes of golden light travelled across the watermarks and toward her abdomen, converging – along with the mana – at the hole right beneath her stinger.
Just when Percy was starting to question whether she'd lost the ability to even produce the eggs, the Queen pushed herself one final time, causing the markings and her channels to flare with unprecedented power. This lasted for just the briefest of instants, a tiny sphere soon popping out of the hole and into the crater on the ground with a wet squelch.
Percy's features couldn't help but twist into a grimace as he fought to suppress his disgust. Between him and Micky, they'd accumulated three lives' worth of memories, yet the universe apparently still held some rather nasty surprises for them.
Pushing the distracting thoughts aside, he focused his multifaceted vision onto the egg, desperately searching for signs of life.
"Nothing," he spat through gritted teeth upon failing to spot the slightest trace of silver inside the round object. He would have clenched his fist in frustration if he wasn't worried about crushing the fragile pyramid still floating inside his palm.
Either way, this didn't bode well.
If even a fresh egg was completely inert, Percy wouldn't be able to help the Queen. Still, he'd promised her to try a couple of times, so he wasn't going to quit after the first setback. Turning his attention back to the Violet creature, he noticed that her soul and markings had dimmed once more. Clearly, producing the tiny egg had taken a lot out of her.
'I'm sorry… the first one is a failure,' Micky told her, feeling a pit form in his crystalline stomach as he sensed her despair. She remained silent, however, commanding her subjects to refill the larger hole with nectar.
Knowing that she was going to need longer to recover a second time, Percy drained the humming orb of most of its mana. He had to reduce its internal pressure, as it was starting to accelerate the pyramid's decay. The structure couldn't possibly survive for several hours with the wisp filled to the brim with mana, and Percy didn't want to risk moving it into and out of his body again.
Standing motionless over the pit, he waited patiently for the Queen to prepare herself. This time, she took about four hours, and Percy could tell that she hadn't even recovered fully. Evidently, forcing her to lay multiple royal eggs in quick succession wasn't the most optimal way to do this, but the pyramid's deterioration didn't afford them the luxury of delaying.
Unfortunately, a similar situation repeated itself shortly afterwards.
The sight of another dead egg popping out of the Queen's body caused Percy's heart to sink and his fleeting hope to evaporate. After two failures and paying such a hefty price for her efforts, the odds of the Violet beast succeeding the next time had to be even lower. She probably understood this too, but Percy was going to give her one last chance if she insisted.
Preparing for the third attempt took the Queen close to six hours. Leaving Percy's wishes aside, it was clear by her appearance that this was going to be their final shot. Trying a fourth time wouldn't just be ineffective – it might be dangerous. Her soul was flaring erratically as her core's brightness fluctuated, and this was before she'd even started.
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'Your Majesty… no matter what happens, I won't allow you to try again,' Percy said. The last thing he wanted to do was to discourage the creature, but he knew it was time to douse her with a dose of reality. Unless he adopted a hard stance early on, the wasp might insist on self-harm.
Nodding dejectedly, the Queen began the process once more. This time, Percy could sense her anguish as she squeezed every drop of mana out of her thorax and into her abdomen. The violent flow of energy caused her channels to swell and burst, ravaging several organs in its path. Her carapace cracked in many spots, green blood oozing out of the holes as the golden patterns on her exoskeleton nearly turned white.
This was it – the Queen was clearly determined to pour everything into this egg – no matter the cost.
Watching her, Percy was tempted to stop her, afraid that she was going to kill herself. Gritting his teeth, he allowed her to continue against his better judgement, however. Whatever gamble she was taking, this was ultimately a leader's responsibility – to do everything necessary to give their subjects a future.
In a way, the Queen's determination reminded Percy of Nephthys's sacrifices. Even now, her dormant wisp continued to protect the Amenthei, refusing to let go. This only reinforced Percy's view that the Starry Princess was the perfect match for the goddess's soul.
'Assuming this works…' he thought, swallowing hard. 'Otherwise… they both lose. And so do I, as well as all of Remior…'
Percy watched with bated breath as the third and final egg emerged out of the Queen's body. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the small object plunged into the pool of healing fluid with a soft 'plop', slowly sinking to the bottom. Percy's gaze remained glued to the sphere. Ignoring the layer of Orange mana inhibiting his Mana Sense, he focused entirely on his Soul Vision.
Just as he feared that this was going to be another dud, he spotted – to his unimaginable elation – the faintest spark of silver, rapidly dimming inside the egg. Traces of life mana were trying to seep into the object in an attempt to preserve the weak life housed within, though it was clearly a losing battle.
Unwilling to waste the precious chance that the Queen had so bravely created, Percy activated his bloodline, allowing the ghostly claw to enter the grey orb attached to his head. The claw twisted the wisp, causing the pyramid to shatter into half a dozen pieces. Percy's soul mixed violently with Nephthys's, as well as the countless silver dots glinting inside it.
Naturally, Percy had no idea whether any of them would survive the process. Even if the goddess did, he wasn't even sure what she had expected to happen to the dying mortals. Each of them was in a far worse state that Micky had been in, so the best-case scenario would be for them to merge with her, becoming a part of the emerging familiar. It was far from a promising fate, but Percy knew that this was the best Nephthys could have done for her people under the circumstances.
A loud snapping sound echoed through his soul as the claw tore the wisp off. Percy managed to lean over the pit just in time to aim his forehead toward the egg, watching the grey comet shoot into it in an instant.
The shock of his severed soul no longer affected him as much as it used to, so he was able to retain his senses to observe the process. The wisp entered the egg successfully, wrapping itself tightly around the fading spark.
'So far, so good…' Percy thought, exhaling in relief.
Obviously, this was just the start of Nephthys's battle, but they'd already overcome many of the most serious hurdles.
Unlike its siblings, this egg had definitely come out possessing a soul, and it had to still be alive in there, otherwise the others would have had nothing to latch on. On top of that, Percy knew how malleable newborn souls were, so the spark had likely already began fusing with the rest, gluing Nephthys's and Percy's souls together in the process.
Still, it was difficult to tell with certainty what was happening in there. The bundle of souls rolled violently inside the orb, its components twisting one another into the world's ugliest yarn ball. Whether it would stabilize in the end into something capable of hatching remained to be seen.
'What happened? Did this go any better?' the Queen's voice rang through the elemental body. It was soft like a whisper, betraying her pain and exhaustion, though an unmistakable hint of hope bled through her words for the first time in several hours. Not that Percy could blame her.
'Well, Your Majesty… the two of us have already done everything we could,' Percy replied, plopping down weakly. 'The rest is up to her...'
No matter what, Percy had no regrets. He'd already warned both the Starry Queen and Nephthys of the risks, and they'd agreed to go through with this regardless. On top of that, he'd managed to do everything he'd promised, bringing everyone to a single step before the very end.
Still, tossing another glance at the battle of silver, crimson and grey raging on inside the tiny egg, he couldn't help but pray silently to the Amenthei goddess for her success. The fate of not just one, but two worlds was counting on her…
Tired as he was, Percy couldn't help but keep his eyes glued to the egg during the first couple of hours. The bundle of souls rolling inside the obsidian orb calmed down after a while, showing no immediate signs of collapsing – which had to be a good thing. It was still a mess in there, of course, and the familiar's soul had no defined shape, making Percy question whether something had gone terribly wrong with the operation.
Then again, he didn't have anything to compare this to, since he had been unconscious during the early moments of Micky's "creation". Only now did he realize that passing out the previous time might have been a blessing in disguise. At least, it had spared him from all this worrying.
'Stop staring at the egg,' the Queen suggested at some point, her words coming out soft and strained.
Her body was still covered in injuries from head to stinger, though she had survived the ordeal. Her subjects had already refilled the hole in front of her with nectar twice, the sumptuous meal having improved her situation slightly. Percy had no idea how much of her lifespan remained after producing all those royal eggs that she had never been supposed to lay. Still, he very much hoped that the creature would be around for a few more years at least, to mentor her successor.
'I'm anxious to know the result too, but even a regular Starry Princess takes a while to hatch. Watching it the whole time will only drive you crazy…' she continued, oblivious to his thoughts.
Percy nodded, though he still pressed the Violet beast for a more concrete timeframe. Sadly, the mismatch between human and wasp timekeeping methods got in the way again. The Queen did have eyes and antennae in the outside world, so she wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the concepts of days and nights, but she apparently preferred to estimate durations by referencing various biological processes inherent to her species.
After some back and forth, Percy concluded that it would be at least a couple of weeks until the egg was done incubating. It wasn't that long, but he'd inevitably have to find other things to keep himself busy.
Nephthys didn't seem to be conscious yet, as she failed to respond to any of his transmissions. Even so, he kept feeding her morsels of soul mana through the cord, and regularly replenished the healing bath the egg was in, to hopefully improve her odds.
Other than that, there wasn't much else that begged for his immediate attention, which led him to another realization.
'I'm free! For the first time since forever ago!'
As long as he could remember, it had been one deadline after another. Years of hunting, studying and brewing in the Guild to meet his and Micky's needs… followed by even more years of planning to infiltrate House Tantalus… and things had only gone downhill from there – Acton, the race to the next grade, the bounty hunters, the wasp familiar…
It had been decades since Percy last had a moment to relax!
Granted, it wasn't like there was nothing left for him to do. Just off the top of his head, he still had to break Baldy and Orin out of their prisons, send out more clones, work on his artificial advancement, figure out the situation on Remior, help out House Avalon, and deliver the affinity-changing treasures to the girls.
That said, none of those things was terribly urgent. The treasure would last years, and none of his pursuers would consider searching for him in the depths of the hive. In theory, there was nothing wrong with him and Micky taking a short vacation as they waited for Nephthys to hatch!
'Well, okay… I can still spend this time productively, but that doesn't mean it can't be fun.'
The line between training and entertainment had always been blurry for Percy, as he didn't really dislike any of the things he normally spent his time on. He genuinely enjoyed alchemy and runecrafting, and was passionate about developing his spells or coming up with new ways to get stronger – even if some of those methods got a little unpleasant every now and then.
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What he wasn't always a fan of was how much pressure he was in to do everything in the most optimal way, micromanaging every second of his life. Not that he regretted making a few sacrifices to move faster toward his goals, but the thought of setting himself loose for a few weeks sounded nice.
'Mending our soul is still a priority. Those stiff patches are rather uncomfortable. The rest is more negotiable though…'
Percy definitely wanted to do some alchemy during his break. He still had plenty of Aurora Dew left, and he didn't think that he'd have much trouble acquiring nectar or royal jelly in the future now that he'd forged new ties with the Starry Wasps, so he wasn't interested in doing anything elixir-related at the moment. Instead, he wanted to focus on something simpler and more relaxing.
'I'll just brew some regular healing potions.'
He didn't need that many of them, but the product itself wasn't the point of the task. Extracting potions from a single ingredient was about the easiest thing an alchemist could work on, and this was a recipe he was intimately familiar with. He could just turn his brain off, slowly digesting his gains from the past few weeks.
The experience was bound to be a hundred times more pleasant without a tight quota he had to meet, or limited ingredients he had to be mindful of. He still had a ton of green mushrooms, and the Queen would probably be fine with giving him a few dead wasps to plant more ingredients on if he asked.
'It's about time to master the Cascading Cracks technique too,' he remembered.
Reducing his elixir consumption hadn't been a priority lately, and it wasn't going to become one anytime soon, given his current circumstances. However, that only applied to him personally.
Assuming that everything went well with the new familiar, Percy was planning to start giving back to Remior, forging new alliances and mending broken bridges. A technique that could halve everyone's elixir consumption would make for a great peace offering.
Working on the painful technique didn't exactly fit with the spirit of his "vacation", but he didn't think much of it, because he couldn't spend more than a few minutes per day cleansing his cores anyway.
Between him and Micky, they had a total of three cores that had to be cleansed thrice a day, so it shouldn't take them too long to perfect the technique. Percy had already laid most of the groundwork for it on Thess'kala. Combining it with his Whirlpool of Four Streams would take a little longer – especially since he could only practice that using his human body, but his increased mental acuity should help with that too.
'I should also start sending clones again,' he thought, adding another item to the agenda.
He'd kept the cords available for the infiltration mission, but that was no longer necessary. Sadly, half of his slots had somehow ended up occupied by Micky and Nephthys – and that was without counting a potential fourth cord that he might need to tie up into the wasp familiar at some point.
Even so, there was no question that fusing with Micky had been worth losing a couple of cords. Percy was sure that the wasp familiar would pay for herself too. Leaving aside all the sentimental and political reasons he had for helping Nephthys and the Starry Queen, the royal jelly alone was precisely the sort of treasure he generally had his clones searching for.
As limited as the resource was, he was confident that he'd find a way to take advantage of it. In a way, the clone he had just placed inside the egg was one of the most successful yet, regarding his long-term goal of attaining divinity.
'That said, I should stop creating new familiars for another grade or two, or I'm going to run out of cords for regular clones…'
Three would have to do for the time being, and Percy was going to give them some time off too. Seeing as he was currently in the mood for a vacation, he decided to ease up on his orders a little, allowing the clones to do whatever they wanted. After all, there was close to a ninety percent chance that he'd end up as one of them by the time he severed the third of them off his soul.
Rather than embarking on high-stakes missions involving treacherous Blues and scheming titans, he'd much rather go on a few whimsical adventures for a while. That meant that he wasn't going to look for greater or lesser springs in the next few weeks. Finding them took too long anyway.
With everything settled, he had both of his bodies sit cross-legged across from one another, taking a few minutes to activate his bloodline a couple of times, producing the clones. As soon as he was done, he took out his cauldron and tossed a few green mushrooms in, commencing a new brewing session as he resumed mending his soul.
If he got lucky, one of his throwaway clones might find something interesting in the next couple of weeks, or his main bodies might improve their brewing yield by the time the new familiar was ready.
Either way, he knew that this break was ultimately good for him.
Report
A few days earlier
Unbeknownst to Percy, there was an ancient, wise, and arguably pretty pair of eyes watching his every move. In fact, learning how long these eyes had been observing him would likely send a chill down his spine.
Admittedly, spying on the boy wasn't Phoebe's classiest move, but it couldn't be helped. Percy was just too important to leave alone, and this was the only way to prevent any accidents from occurring – save perhaps for making her presence known and sheltering him directly, but that would inhibit his growth.
"He's improving faster than I expected. I really thought he would have slowed down by now…" she muttered as she watched Percy and the crow take down another group of bounty hunters.
It had only taken the boy a couple of years to go from barely beating Acton, to handling multiple Blues by himself – and even more with help from his familiar. Phoebe had initially thought that reaching Yellow and upgrading his boosting art would have marked the end of Percy's rapid growth, but he hadn't stopped surprising her over the past few months.
At this rate, he might actually get to where she wanted him by the time he reached Violet, or even Blue!
Of course, Phoebe hadn't always been invested in the boy's personal strength. At first, she'd been far more interested in other aspects of his bloodline.
She'd registered an anomaly as early as during his evaluation at the temple, though she hadn't thought much of it at the time. She could have never imagined that a mortal's bloodline or spell would be capable of bypassing the powerful enchantments in the assessment centres to steal her mana.
And, well… she had been right about that. Percy had caused the incident indirectly, by bringing one of the most powerful Decrees in existence back to Remior and letting it feast upon the crimson pool.
That said, Phoebe hadn't pieced together the details until years later. Sadly, omniscience was an ability that not even the most powerful gods in the universe could dream of possessing. Despite being the originator of the Status, she could only read another person's page while looking at them.
The most logical explanation at the time had been that too many children had arrived at the temple. She'd figured that the lazy priests and priestesses working there must've grown impatient with the long queue, having the children undergo their affinity tests in batches.
They weren't supposed to do that, of course. Phoebe had explicitly told them many times that the presence of multiple evaluees could interfere with the quality of the assessments, or make the children feel uneasy. Still, this wouldn't have been the first time the dumbest of her subordinates disobeyed her, thinking that she wouldn't notice.
Things like that were inevitable, since the personnel working at the temples weren't even official members of the Root – let alone the Order. They were simply volunteers from other noble Houses that had been sent by their families to carry favour with the gods. If the Root could be considered the Order's outer circle, the people at the temples were barely in the periphery of the organization.
Not that it had mattered much.
The mind mana had returned to its previous level within hours, and Phoebe had been more than happy to brush the short-lived hiccup aside, going back to her business. It wasn't until news of the revolutionary Aurora Dew reached her ears a few years later that she'd gotten involved with Percy again.
Learning about the culprits hiding in the Alchemists' Guild, she'd allowed the Root to apply pressure on them, mostly to observe how they would react – to gain a better grasp on their personalities and motivations. However, she'd ordered the other gods to stay out of it, until she knew what they were dealing with.
Scanning the Fungal Spire, she'd searched for the ones responsible, spotting Percy and his friends as they emerged from the underground tunnels, all battered and covered in wasp blood.
As tempted as she had been to reveal herself and chastise them for their recklessness, she'd ultimately held back, opting to continue observing the mortals silently. A couple of young people with Orange and Yellow cores couldn't have damaged the hive much anyway. They'd likely just passed through the tunnels in their desperation, barely surviving the ordeal.
Over the following weeks, Phoebe had kept her eyes on them, trying to better understand the miraculous bloodline that had made everything possible, and to decide the best way to deal with the boy. Percy's strength hadn't been a factor worth considering just yet, though many other things about him had piqued her interest – outside of the elixirs.
The fact that he'd managed to develop a functional second core had been at the top of the list. The stolen Decree would have been little more than a curiosity had it been limited to Percy, but seeing how he had successfully transferred and germinated the seed in the crow's body had given Phoebe hope that the act could be extended to more people – something that she'd eventually confirmed.
Beyond that, the crow was a marvel of magic in and of itself. Every lesser spring in the universe dreamt of ways to control and foster powerful beasts, to use them as disposable pawns in their expeditions. The creatures could grow much faster than sapients, and they could do so without consuming a single drop of elixir. On top of that, their lives weren't particularly valuable, so they would make for the perfect foot soldiers to sacrifice in place of their precious Green-borns – provided that they found a way to suppress their hunger and rebellious nature.
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Having White or Clear beasts wasn't as important for greater springs, since most were too powerful to care about a few additional demigods, and no world but Sixiang had ever produced divine beasts. Even so, Remior could still very much benefit from them.
This was why the Order had wasted so much time and resources to support House Parnassus, hoping that one of their descendants would mutate a usable version of their bloodline, though their millennia-long efforts had yet to bear any fruit. Perhaps, Percy and his crow could open another avenue for them, assuming that the bloodline could be passed on, and that his familiars showed no flaws down the line.
Other than the Moirais' Decree, the bird and the Aurora Dew, the only things that had stood out the first time Phoebe had laid eyes upon Percy's Status had been Circulation and Metatron's Decree. The former was another precious gift that she had hoped to eventually spread across Remior, while the latter had given her pause, making her realize that letting Percy roam the universe was inherently dangerous.
Not wasting time, she'd planted a mental obstruction in his mind that would prevent him or his future clones from ever activating the Decree on Remior. To this day, the boy had yet to notice its presence – because he'd never even considered doing anything that foolish.
It only spoke volumes to how intelligent and responsible he was. Clearly, he also understood how risky it would be to place his life in Metatron's hands, or to give the titan access to his world. Even so, Phoebe had never regretted taking measures to stop him. Desperation could drive anyone into making all sorts of reckless decisions, and this was the one thing that she could never allow Percy to do.
Leaving that aside, Phoebe had been more than satisfied with the boy's conduct. Being born with a unique bloodline hadn't been under his control, but not many people in his shoes would have used it as well. Most young nobles might have stopped after the first couple of successful clones, leveraging their gains to elevate their status in their families, indulging in a life of luxury and worthless pleasures.
Not Percy though.
Phoebe couldn't have asked for a better owner for the bloodline, in fact. His ambitions compelled him to constantly aim higher, his morals tempering his decisions with kindness, patience and caution. His work ethic prevented him from wasting a single moment of his life, and his cunning allowed his clones to return with valuable gains more often than Phoebe had thought possible.
'I don't even need to step in,' she'd realized.
Evidently, Percy didn't require her help or her guidance. He was doing everything she would have wanted him to do, all by himself. She merely had to sit back and document his discoveries, keeping track of those that could be useful for their world, while looking out for any hidden dangers.
Studying Ea's Decree – and years later, Obatala's – had been especially useful due to their overlap with her own. Phoebe didn't think that she'd be able to replicate the extraneous elements – the mutated eyes or the ability to lock one's domain in its strongest state – unless Percy found a way to dig the buried potential out of his soul and grant the missing features to his clones – like he did with the second cores.
However, the way in which the Decrees had restructured Percy's Status was something Phoebe could learn from. The adaptability of her creation was one of its most important qualities, but also a prelude to a much more useful feature that she'd always planned to eventually incorporate into it.
Sadly, her research in that area had hit a wall thousands of years ago. Thankfully, Percy's bountiful harvest had already given her a lot of much-needed inspiration to resume working on her grand project – something that not just Percy, but everyone on Remior would soon benefit from.
'Well… my "soon", that is,' she thought, scratching her head. 'From their perspective, it'll be quite a while before it's ready.'
Other than the Decrees, Percy had brought plenty of other valuables back – Phoebe had never even heard of spectral traits. Admittedly, it appeared that they could only be absorbed by soul affinity users, but they did have a couple of those in the Order – including a demigod – so the knowledge should prove useful.
Reinforcement would also help everyone with a pure affinity – and they had a lot more of those. Or… they used to, at least – before giving most of them a petal. Either way, they would certainly receive several affinity-less Holy Children in the future.
Many of the alchemic principles Percy had mastered would also prove handy, as would the advanced runecrafting knowledge. Phoebe had chosen not to butt in Percy's dealings with the sentient Ring of Sacrilege or the goddess slumbering in his soul, having grown to trust the boy's judgement after watching him for so long.
More importantly, however, Phoebe had slowly started to appreciate how well Percy had integrated all of the disparate pieces of magical knowledge that he'd acquired into his arsenal.
During his time in the Valley, she had fully expected him to get his ass handed to him by Acton, forcing her to jump in to save him. Revealing herself wouldn't have been ideal, but it would have been better than letting him die.
Yet, Percy had shocked her once again, upgrading his boosting art and reestablishing his previously demonstrated ability of fighting two grades above his own – despite the lack of a domain that should have made bridging the gap exceedingly difficult.
Before that fight, Phoebe hadn't expected Percy to jump grades like that until Blue. Even once he did, it wouldn't have made that much of a difference, as his bloodline was best applied to the betterment of Remior as a whole than powering up a single Red-born.
Or so she had thought.
The revelation had finally made her realize that the boy held even more potential than she'd initially given him credit for. All of a sudden, Percy's strength had become one of his most valuable assets – a talent worth cultivating. If only he could stay on this trajectory for a few more grades, he might grow strong enough to fight against gods one day, while still being a mortal, thus opening countless new doors for their world!
Even better, Phoebe's recent observations had only confirmed that Percy was still steadily traversing this impossible road. This was precisely why she found Deimos's sudden intrusion so annoying.
'That petty little shit!' she cursed, seeing through the man's true grade at a glance.
It wasn't a huge secret that Hermes's youngest son had serious insecurities, but she hadn't expected him to stoop so low as to hide his promotion from everyone for years, just to punish Percy for all the attention he was getting.
But here they were.
Unfortunately, Phoebe couldn't see a way out of this mess for the boy. As strong as he was, the gap was too wide for him to escape or win – and she'd already sealed his final trump card away.
Unless she stepped in, her golden goose was going to die today!
As expected, Phoebe watched Deimos toy with Percy and the crow, effortlessly ripping them apart. Seeing the Violet preparing to finish the boy off, she knew that her time to interfere was quickly running out. Yet, just as she was about to step in to save him, the broken familiar leapt in the way of the blast, clearly intending to sacrifice everything to protect its master.
The sight made Phoebe hesitate, thinking that letting Deimos destroy the crow first might not be a terrible idea.
She didn't want to do that, of course – she wasn't heartless. She'd grown rather fond of Percy and Micky after observing them for so long. The bird's willingness to give up its life to save the boy was especially moving and the thought of letting either of them suffer didn't sit well with her.
Even so, she felt that it was better this way. She wasn't their mother – she was the Order's leader and Remior's primary protector. Her duty was to their world before any of its people and the upsides of letting the crow perish greatly outweighed the downsides.
This was quite a strange dilemma, but one that she'd been contemplating for a while. In anybody else's hands, the powerful familiar would have made for a priceless asset – the realization of the Order's ambitions for Acton's family over the last several thousand years.
Had someone told Phoebe that she was going to willingly allow a creature like Micky to die before her eyes one day, she would have burst out laughing. However, Percy's unprecedented growth had greatly shifted her perspective over the years, making her value his development more than many of his other achievements – the creation of a controllable beast included.
Simply put, Micky had always been more of a liability for the boy than an asset!
Just thinking about it was crazy, but there was no denying it. On the surface, the crow had done an excellent job keeping up with Percy's strength and aiding him in his ventures. Any outside observer could be excused for thinking that Micky's contribution to their team was equal to Percy's, as the bird essentially doubled the boy's fighting strength.
Phoebe was wise enough to peer a layer deeper than most, scrutinizing the long road that had led them to the present moment.
'The crow has been holding him back from the very start,' she'd concluded.
Percy was probably smart enough to see it too, though his loyalty to his friend had blinded him all this time. Not only had the bird consumed enormous amounts of resources and attention to reach its current level, but its existence had also forced Percy to make numerous reckless decisions.
He'd travelled to suboptimal places to train, taken unnecessary risks for the sake of his familiar, and even picked a fight with a Holy Child. If it hadn't been for Micky, Percy might have stayed in the Alchemists' Guild the whole time, hidden from everyone – including Phoebe. The only reason he'd put himself out there had been the urgency to earn enough resources to support the crow.
On top of that, there was an even greater disadvantage to owning a familiar: Percy's limited clone capacity.
For the longest time, he'd only been capable of maintaining two connections, one of which had been permanently occupied by the crow. Even after increasing his limit to six, the boy had foolishly chosen to tie up a second clone to the bird, thus leaving a third of his total capacity unavailable to this day.
That was without even considering the second familiar that he was clearly planning to create. Phoebe couldn't help but wonder how much stronger Percy would have grown, had he focused his efforts on bettering himself over the past couple of decades.
Looking back, she had to admit that Percy hadn't made that many outrageous mistakes in the time that she'd observed him, but the biggest ones could all be traced back to that first mistake: Micky's creation!
That was not to say that she was opposed to the idea of familiars in general. They were certainly an important feature of Percy's bloodline, as well as valuable assets to Remior as a whole – especially if they could be mass-produced. They could revisit the topic in the future.
Perhaps, the best time to do that would be after a few thousand years, once Percy was done picking all the low-hanging fruit waiting for him out there in the cosmos. As soon as his progress slowed down, they could have him tie up a clone or two to forge a couple of powerful companions. The creatures grew rather fast, so it wouldn't be too late to start over.
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Now was too early, however.
Stinting his growth so early in his journey was inefficient. Phoebe was willing to bet that Percy would have been far stronger if he hadn't missed out on hundreds of potential clones due to Micky.
'Also, I'm sure that he can do a lot better than the bird…'
Phoebe hadn't witnessed the familiar's creation, but it was quite clear that Percy had simply shoved a random mortal's soul into the first available body, without even understanding the implications. Sure, he'd taught the crow a few useful spells since then and even invested a petal to grant it a composite affinity, but none of its abilities was particularly impressive.
In many ways, what Percy was obviously planning to do with the goddess's soul and the Starry Wasp was a hundred times more promising – now, that, was an experiment that Phoebe was interested in watching, excusing, and even wholeheartedly supporting.
Even if Percy decided that he needed more familiars in the future, she could help him pick unique souls and useful bodies to pair together. In fact, she was more than happy to let him try several times, until they stumbled upon a familiar lucky enough to awaken a rare affinity.
As for Micky…
It was painful to admit, but Percy was better off getting rid of him. Since he wasn't going to do that by himself, Phoebe could just let Deimos do it for him.
Watching the crow's head burst open left a bad taste in her mouth. It was cruel of her to allow this but making the tough decisions that nobody else was willing to entertain was ultimately her job.
Seeing the anguish in Percy's expression gave her no pleasure, nor did his sheer agony as the bundle of souls slammed into his own, twisting it into an unrecognizable shape.
Watching pain distort his features only solidified Phoebe's opinion that this had been necessary, however. It was clearly much harder for Percy to assimilate a semi-foreign soul that had remained separated from him for decades than a regular clone. Allowing Micky to survive for centuries or millennia before perishing would have only made things worse.
'Weird… why are Micky's cores still drawing ambient mana though?' she wondered after seeing the crow's mutilated body circulate the violent snowstorm with even greater vigour than when he was alive.
Truth be told, she had considered the possibility that the bird's mutation could regrow a missing head, his weird soul and even stranger body having left that door wide open. Had that happened, she would have just forgotten about it, allowing Percy to keep the crow.
However, that ship had already sailed. The extended section of Percy's Status had vanished and there wasn't the slightest trace of life left in the frozen carcass.
Charging another blast, Deimos gloated about his sick accomplishment. Slowing down the sadistic Violet's perception of time to buy Percy a few more precious seconds, Phoebe ignored Hermes's son entirely, watching with bated breath as the seemingly ownerless cores broke out of the headless sculpture, sinking into the boy's Cloak!
'What the hell is happening to him?!' Phoebe asked herself in horror, having never seen anything of the sort.
Deimos unleashed his attack at last, but she no longer cared about him. She could tell that his pathetic spell wasn't powerful enough to pierce the raging cyclone of ethereal silk and grey mana spinning around Percy. She was far more concerned with the damage that the boy was inflicting on himself than any external threats.
Yet, it soon became clear that the chain of surprises had only just begun.
Phoebe's eyes widened as she witnessed the unbelievable scene of a Yellow's domain tearing a Violet's to shreds, and the brutal beatdown that ensued. The power that Percy wielded was far higher than anything he and Micky had been capable off before their unexpected transformation.
Thankfully, the boy's situation appeared to have stabilized, though Phoebe could tell that something major had happened. Time after time, she tried to peer into Percy's Status – to hopefully shed some light onto his new state – only for her own Decree to ignore her!
It wasn't until after the fight that it managed to recalibrate itself, finally responding to its creators will. Even then, the information that manifested before Phoebe's eyes was difficult to accept.
Whether Micky – or even Percy, for that matter – had survived, she still couldn't say with certainty. The name of the new entity didn't match either of theirs. Either way, one thing was immediately clear: her assessment that the crow had been holding Percy back couldn't have been more wrong.
Nobody could have predicted this – not even Percy and Micky themselves – but it seemed that they'd started walking on a path to greater heights a long time ago…
'Perhaps I was the one who made a mistake then – not him…' she begrudgingly admitted.
More importantly, she couldn't help but linger on a single detail – the very piece of information that she had hoped to see in Percy's Status one day. She hadn't expected it to appear nearly this soon though.
'An Extreme spell!'
This was the hallmark of a paragon – a mortal capable of slaying gods!
Of course, a true paragon needed a Clear grade too, which Percy paradoxically still lacked, even though it was generally considered to be the simplest of the two requirements to meet.
Regardless, even Phoebe's ancient heart that had weathered countless seasons without wavering couldn't help but skip a beat as she pondered over the implications of the boy's achievement.
Countless thoughts passed through Phoebe's mind in an instant, as even somebody as experienced as her struggled to digest the shocking events she'd just witnessed.
Strictly speaking, the strength of the cloaked figure wasn't worth mentioning to a demigod – let alone a titaness. Even if Percy managed to reach the Clear grade himself, the power of a paragon was more of a threat to weaker gods – not those who had mastered several concepts and climbed even further up the cosmic ladder, as she had.
That said, that was more of a testament to the boy's lower grade, not an indictment of the spell's quality. Phoebe couldn't help but imagine the Ultimate Art wielded by a fellow deity one day, the notion giving her goosebumps.
'I should probably avoid telling him that I was willing to let Micky die…' she decided.
Turning her attention back to the collapsing figure, her eyes carefully scanned the information in the Lone Wanderer's Status, taking a moment to absorb the changes. Sometimes, her Decree chose the most bizarre names to give to new spells – though it was its first time renaming a person.
Phoebe didn't question that too much, since she understood better than anyone how the Status worked. It was deeply rooted in the minds of its owners, taking several things into consideration when registering a new entry – from its broad database of similar spells across Remior, to the person's preferences and magical knowledge.
The new mutation and upgraded domain didn't surprise her too much either. As impressive as they were, they were just the logical evolutions of abilities that Percy and Micky had already demonstrated. What she found more concerning was what had happened to the two mortals, though she would likely have to wait until they regained consciousness to learn more.
She was about to swoop in to rescue them from the swarming bugs, when she realized that the creatures showed no sign of aggression.
'I wonder what that's all about…'
It was no secret that the Starry Queen was as intelligent as a person – more so than most people, in fact – though that didn't explain what the creature wanted from the boy. Phoebe decided to let the scene play out, curious to see what the wasps were going to do.
That was when she realized that there was a small problem.
Too many layers of dirt, colourful minerals, and dense ambient mana would interfere with her senses, preventing her from observing the mortals. Consequently, she was forced to descend to the surface of the planet, shrouding herself in a veil of mind mana to conceal her presence from everyone's senses as she followed the army of bugs into the hive, ready to intervene if they tried anything funny.
Waiting for Percy and Micky to wake up was pure agony of course.
Even a few centuries were normally nothing to Phoebe – let alone a couple of hours – but not when so much was at stake. Depending on what had happened to the boy, he might become even more important for Remior's future, or this might mark the end of his promising journey.
As soon as they regained consciousness, Phoebe watched with bated breath while they explored their new condition inside the crystal-lit chamber. They certainly appeared healthy enough at first glance, causing her to finally exhale in relief.
The crow's shapeshifting ability wasn't anything to scoff at either. It looked about as convenient as she'd imagined it would be, turning Micky – or half of the Lone Wanderer's existence, at any rate – into a creature made almost entirely out of living mana!
Sadly, she couldn't peer directly into their mind to know what they were thinking, but she could still infer the gist of what had happened to them.
'Their souls and minds seem to have merged completely,' she concluded, creasing her brow.
This was a good thing for the most part, as it would make them stronger and grant them a wide assortment of new abilities. However, she could see how weird this would feel on a personal level. They'd essentially lost their individuality and muddled their personalities, turning into a jumbled mess of memories.
'Well, that's not a huge problem. It should be easy enough to fix – assuming that they want it fixed.'
She shrugged.
Phoebe was more than happy to help them separate and segregate their thoughts again later. For a titaness who had mastered several mind concepts, adding a few mental gates in their head that could be opened or closed at will would be a piece of cake.
The fact that they already bore her Decree would only make this simpler. With their permission and cooperation, integrating a robust feature into their Status to allow them to freely shift between their merged and separated states would only take a couple of days.
Not that she was planning to reveal herself to them anytime soon, of course. Acquiring an Extreme spell at Yellow – or Green, depending on how she looked at it – was far earlier than she had expected, but they still had plenty of room to grow before she brought them into the fold. For now, they'd have to get used to their merged mind by themselves.
Before long, Percy and Micky were done playing around with their new bodies, causing Phoebe to perk up. It was finally time to see what the Violet beast had brought them here for.
"Seriously?" she asked, clicking her tongue in annoyance as Percy established a spectral connection with the creature, though she should have probably seen this coming. Had their link been forged with mind mana, she might have been able to intrude in their transmission, but soul mana fell squarely outside her expertise.
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Regardless, most of her questions got answered as soon as the oversized bug led Percy and Micky to the next chamber, showing them the inert eggs.
'Royal eggs? Did something happen to the Queen's successor?'
Suffice to say, the hive's innerworkings were well understood by the Divine Order. They knew about the limitations in the royal line's procreation, and about the jelly they excreted, though Phoebe hadn't realized what a precarious situation the bugs had been in lately.
'Just who…?' Frowning, she turned to her daughter, reaching out to her using the mental link that they kept available for convenience. 'Athena!'
'Mother?' the fellow goddess responded, clearly startled by the intensity and suddenness in Phoebe's voice.
'Did any mortal above Violet step anywhere close to the Fungal Spire in the last century or so?' Phoebe asked, knowing that her daughter tended to pay more attention to such matters.
Athena appeared to ponder the question for a moment before replying. 'Hmmm… if I'm not mistaken, Machaon – the current leader of House Asclepius – briefly studied alchemy in the Guild a few decades ago. Why? Did anything happen?'
After bringing her daughter up to speed, Phoebe worked with her to recall anything suspicious that the White-cored man might have done in recent history. Sure enough, it didn't take them long to remember that the cunning mortal had made several strange – if seemingly unrelated – moves in the past few centuries.
About two hundred years ago, he had caused quite a stir by suddenly deciding to build a grandiose garden for himself, in some remote forest, leading many people to wonder whether the unforgiving march of time had eroded the man's sanity.
Even the gods had found it a little unusual, though everyone had eventually forgotten about it after seeing that the White's hobby hadn't really affected how he handled his responsibilities as the head of the Great House.
Going even further back, hadn't Machaon asked the leader of House Etna to let him enrol in their runecrafting academy about six hundred years ago?
All of that could be – and had been – chalked up to the man's eccentricity – an innate curiosity to study various aspects of magic, perhaps, or a desire to fend off the boredom that came with his long life. In hindsight, his intentions appeared a lot more sinister.
'That sneaky bastard!' Athena cursed. 'He's played us for fools all along! Just how long has he been planning this?!'
The realization sent a chill down Phoebe's spine. As much as she wanted to blame Machaon's greed, she had to acknowledge that this was ultimately her own fault. After all, no mortal would have managed anything of the sort if not for her own negligence.
'First Percy, and now him…' she thought.
At first glance, the two mortals couldn't differ more – one was a treasure for Remior, the other a silent catastrophe waiting to happen. However, they both served as living proof that she hadn't paid as much attention to the low-borns as she should have.
Their grades and shorter lifespans might limit their power and potential, but clearly not their ambitions or their cunning. Left unattended, anyone could apparently alter their world's fate irreversibly. Two of them had done precisely that, coincidentally in the span of a single generation.
'Do we know where the garden is?' Phoebe asked, vowing internally to pay more attention to everyone from now on. Athena sent a nod back, prompting Phoebe to continue. 'Go. I need you to check up on the Starry Princess. But don't say a word to anyone just yet.'
It only took her daughter a few minutes to contact her again with some results. 'It's just as we feared. The creature is trapped inside a massive enchantment, and it's not looking good. It's still at Green!'
Phoebe swallowed hard. Only two advancements in twenty years? That was unheard of for a Starry Princess. It spoke to how difficult it was, even for the leader of a Great House, to keep the bug sufficiently fed without drawing too much attention.
'What is he even thinking? The wasp will never live long enough for him to reach the Clear grade!'
Even if Machaon managed to incorporate the royal jelly into the Aurora Dew to further accelerate his advancement, and even if he could keep the bug healthy and well-fed the whole time, its lifespan was far too short. To make matters worse, the Princess definitely wasn't healthy at the moment, and the Aurora Dew hadn't even existed while Machaon had formulated his insidious plan.
Was he planning to have the Princess reproduce, continuing to bleed the creatures dry over multiple generations, ignoring both the hive and the rest of the planet as everyone got starved of elixirs?
The odds of that working were laughably low! Even if the first wasp made it to Violet, would it be in any condition to reproduce? Granted, the creatures did so asexually, but the process required a lot of energy that the wasp would surely lack! He'd have to repeat the process more than just once or twice too, without any of the royal wasps dying under his watch or failing to reach maturity!
Machaon wasn't just selfish – he was a complete lunatic!
Not only was he going to destroy everything, he was going to do that without any guarantee of success. That bastard was willing to sacrifice all of Remior on a desperate gamble, for merely the slimmest chance of becoming a god!
'What should I do?' Athena asked again, breaking Phoebe out of her thoughts. 'I can have the wasp back in the hive and Machaon's head on a spike in an hour if you want,' she snarled, failing to conceal her fury.
'Wait…' Phoebe said as Percy and the previous Queen prepared the chamber for their looming operation.
It wouldn't be entirely risk-free, but something good could come out of this mess if they played their hand right.
'For now, keep everything we've learned to yourself. I want you to closely monitor the Princess's condition, and to secretly feed her as much food as she needs. I don't care if you have to snatch every Green beast that House Ypnos owns – just make sure the creature gets its fill from now on.'
Returning the kidnapped beast to its habitat would have been better, but having a goddess personally attend to its every need was the next best thing. By focusing entirely on the creature, and without worrying about anyone's opinion, Athena should be able to stabilize its condition.
If Percy failed or the current Queen died, they'd have no choice but to bring the Princess back immediately. And even if he succeeded but something went wrong with the familiar later, it wouldn't be too late to do so in a couple of decades.
Most importantly, Phoebe struggled to contain her curiosity. Seeing what Percy had done for a common crow, she couldn't help but wonder what he might do for one of Remior's most important creatures.
A wave of confusion naturally flowed through the connection, as Athena wasn't privy to Phoebe's thoughts. That said, the goddess ultimately chose to keep her doubts to herself, instead asking about something else.
'What about Machaon? Are we just going to let him get away with this?'
The notion caused a mirthful pang of laughter to escape Phoebe's lips. 'Get away? After nearly bringing our entire world to ruin? That piece of shit will get his due, one way or the other. I'll see to that personally,' she spat, but she wasn't done.
Her eyes landed back on Percy, who was getting ready to shove his soul into the egg. Only then did she add, 'but not right now. Don't let Machaon know that we're onto him just yet. He might still be of use to us for a while longer…'
Remove
It wasn't a greater or even a lower spring that the clone had found himself approaching this time – just a barren world. At least, he hadn't sensed the presence of any gods or powerful mortals, yet he still felt more excited about this trip than he had in a long time.
The fact that he'd given himself permission to relax for once, focusing more on the experience itself than the potential benefits, certainly played a huge role, but there was more to it than that. He hadn't even picked a host yet, but the journey through the soul plane had already felt rather fresh for some reason, despite Percy having done this hundreds of times in the past.
It wasn't a huge secret where this feeling of novelty was coming from, of course. This was Micky's first clone!
'Well, okay… technically it's the third one, but I still don't have the others' memories back,' he corrected himself.
After merging with Percy, Micky remembered all the past clones, but he'd never actually lived through those moments himself, which apparently made quite a difference.
Flying through the infinite darkness without the ability to see or hear anything was oddly unsettling for the first time in a while. It also stirred a sense of awe and wonder deep within him, as did the constellation of souls softly shimmering in the distance as soon as he tried to reach out to them.
Scanning the sea of potential hosts, he couldn't help but ponder over another fascinating benefit of their recent fusion that he'd discovered soon after he began preparing the latest batch of clones – right before finding himself among their ranks.
Evidently, the spike in his mental capabilities had done more than merely allowing the original to coordinate his two bodies. It had also made it several times easier to maintain Soul Resonance for a prolonged period of time, letting him establish a permanent connection with one of the clones.
In the past, that hadn't been an option. Empowering even a single cord used to require a lot of focus, which Percy had rarely been able to spare, given how busy he'd always been with other things. Consequently, he'd only ever done this when he'd had a good reason to. Sadly, by the time the clones realized that they needed help, it was typically too late to reach out to the original.
Things were different now.
Keeping a single connection open was almost effortless, and even a second instance of Soul Resonance should be easy to maintain for at least a few days – until the original knew whether it was worth investing more effort into a certain clone – without affecting himself too much.
That said, the main body had already widened his connection to one of this clone's older siblings, and pushing himself to keep in touch with all three of them at once didn't exactly fit with the spirit of their "vacation", thus the current clone had been left to embark on this trip by himself.
'Oh well… it'll only make everything more interesting,' he thought with a mental shrug. 'I should still introduce myself as Micky to my new host, though. To commemorate the experience.'
Having made his mind up, Micky chose a relatively healthy-looking Yellow soul, diving into its body. His wisp quickly flowed into the gaps and cracks of his new vessel as he tried to communicate with its owner.
'Hello? Do you need help with not dying by any chance?'
Something akin to a pained groan echoed through the person's soul. Their mind was clearly there, though it appeared too foggy for them to form coherent thoughts.
Unable to get full consent right away, Micky found it difficult to strengthen his connection to his host. Left with no other choice, he tapped into the fiends slumbering within his wisp, causing them to wake up. Spectral tendrils shapeshifted into clawed hands, digging into the fragmented soul. Spider-like limbs and long, flailing hairs sprouted along the surfaces of his own wisp, helping him find purchase to pull the fragments together.
Obviously, Micky was much gentler than he'd been while trying to forcefully possess Kassorith. He only wanted to heal his new host – not subjugate him or worsen his injuries.
Was it a bit pushy of him to default to his Parasitic Connection spell? Sure. It was inevitably more painful for his host than a consensual connection, but every second counted when dealing with an injured soul on the verge of death. Micky would rather violate a couple of personal boundaries than wait for permission.
'If they don't want to be saved, they can always kill themselves later,' he reasoned.
Ramming his mind into his host's, Micky forced their connection to widen, in an attempt to limit the damage his actions caused. Pulling the shards as close to one another as he could manage without breaking them further, he poured phantom mana from his stash into their surface, slowly knitting the emerging tendrils together into a series of preservation runes.
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Before long, his host appeared to regain some mental clarity. Micky felt an odd cocktail of gratitude and annoyance seep through their connection, but the person didn't get the chance to thank or berate him for his reckless assistance.
A lot of information flooded Micky's mind as he finally managed to tap into the body's senses, the cold but familiar embrace of the sea pressing down on his skin from every direction.
'I can't breathe! Are we underwater again?!'
For a moment there, he thought he was back on Atlantis, though the pressure was negligible by comparison, meaning that they had to be much closer to the surface. The water was warmer than it had been at the bottom of the alien ocean, and his host clearly wasn't meant to survive in this environment.
'They must've drowned then… we need to swim up.'
'Get out of the cabin before the ship sinks any deeper,' a male voice suddenly said, Micky's new host finally making himself useful.
Micky nodded, trying to follow the man's instructions, when another problem presented itself. The saltwater stung their eyes, and the room – or cabin – they were in was clearly too dark for them to see a thing. The fact that there weren't any souls or mana signatures to latch on didn't help. Unable to locate the exit, Micky swam directly upwards, only to slam face first into a flat, wooden surface.
Realizing that the momentary burst of energy that their resurrection had granted them wouldn't last forever and knowing that he didn't have time to familiarize himself with this body's affinity or other abilities, Micky resorted to his own means. Reaching into his spatial seal, he pulled out his trusty scythe, turning it incorporeal to ignore the water's resistance as he swung it against what he assumed was the cabin's ceiling.
The moment the enchanted blade was about to phase through the wood, he willed it to materialize again, feeling the mundane solid part like paper beneath the weapon's sharpened edge. A single slash wasn't going to get them out, so Micky repeated his actions with practiced ease, carving out a triangular path through the sinking vessel.
Pushing the severed blocks aside was harder than cutting through the wood. Either way, his host's body was at Yellow, so Micky knew that he was strong enough to make it with enough effort.
Finally crawling through the hole in the ceiling, he found himself stopped by a second wall, forcing him to keep going. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he finally kicked the last wooden triangle out of his path, escaping from the sinking deathtrap.
Only then did he realize that some parts of the ship weren't fully submerged yet. Grabbing against the deck, he dragged his host out of what would have surely been his watery grave, coughing out one mouthful of saltwater after another as he gasped for air, sprawled on a solid – if wet – floor, under the scorching sunlight.
'Thanks for savin' me,' the man whose name Micky hadn't even bothered to ask said at last. He didn't seem to be in a rush to reclaim control of his body, probably trusting Micky to do a better job with it. He clearly wasn't above voicing a couple of suggestions, however. 'We ain't safe yet. We ain't got long before the ship sinks completely, and these are dangerous waters.'
Sighing, Micky rolled over, storing his scythe away as he pushed himself up. While his "vacation" wasn't supposed to involve any self-motivated pressure to find something useful and rush back to Remior, it didn't mean that his time here was going to be peaceful.
Not bothering to examine his current body, he prioritized his surroundings. The ship was among the largest he'd ever seen, making him realize that his host was part of some seafaring civilization. They weren't underwater creatures like Enki's people – just folks that apparently regularly sailed across the ocean.
They had fishing boats on Remior too, though they were much smaller and never wandered very far from the coast. There was typically no need, as it was usually easier to reach any place on the continent by land or air. Percy and Micky hadn't come across any of the fishing villages they knew existed along the shoreline either, as those were rather scarce, and the two of them had only ever entered or exited the ocean through a couple of remote locations.
Either way, the oversized ship wasn't in great shape. Micky was standing on the bow, the floor beneath his feet tilted backwards, facing the stern that sloped the opposite way, with the middle of the vessel submerged between them.
If he had to take a guess, the captain must've tried to steer away from some underwater obstacle at the last minute – a reef perhaps – only to still crash into it sideways, splitting the hull in two.
The broken foremast was floating a few dozen metres away from the rest of the ship, though the main mast was clearly still intact, a thick wooden pillar jutting out of the water and hovering just above Micky's borrowed head. Its sails were torn, loose strips hanging over the figurehead, yellowed strains that seemed to predate the accident dirtying the once-beige fabric.
'The good news is that we're not that far from land,' Micky realized upon spotting an island on the horizon.
Coughing out a few lingering dregs of seawater, he wrung the bottom of his shirt as he climbed higher up the sinking boat to buy a few more seconds. The wood was slippery, and not just because it was currently wet. It was covered in rot and moss, the vessel's passengers having clearly not been big on cleaning.
Micky sure didn't appreciate the slimy feeling beneath his feet – especially since it reminded him of his decrepit cell on Huehue – but he let that slide, turning his attention back to his host.
'When you say dangerous waters…?' he asked as his eyes landed on the other sailors desperately trying to swim toward the island. Dangerous or not, swimming to shore was obviously the only way for any of them to survive, and the other men clearly had a head-start on Micky's host – who must've been asleep when the ship crashed.
'Very dangerous,' the man replied, swallowing hard. 'The sea is teemin' with Yellow and Green beasts. To be honest with ya, drownin' might 'ave been a mercy… I'd pick that over gettin' eaten alive.'
Micky scoffed, thinking that the guy was just being difficult. 'At least there's a chance to survive now!' he protested. 'With your grade, swimming to shore won't take us too long. Maybe there aren't any predators nearb–'
He didn't even get to the end of that sentence, when one of his host's crewmates suddenly got dragged underwater, without even getting the chance to let out a scream. The sea bubbled and foamed around him for the briefest of instants, causing the other sailors to swim even faster in their panic as the spot around their unfortunate comrade turned crimson.
'Well, shit…'