The visual feed initialized at 04:00:00 local time. The internal clock synchronized with the rhythmic pulsing of the Marrow's calcified walls. To my left, the Mercury Fountain emitted a low-frequency hum, the liquid metal swirling in a basin shaped like a hollowed thoracic cavity. The air saturation was 14% bone dust and 3% necrotic vapor.
I remained horizontal on the bioluminescent moss. The contact points between my dermis and the moss resulted in immediate cellular death for the vegetation. The soft green glow turned into a brittle, carbonized black. This was a passive side effect of energy siphoning. I adjusted my posture to minimize the visible footprint of the decay.
Leon was positioned 1.2 meters away, slumped against the Rib-pillar. His respiration was shallow. His pulse was 48 beats per minute, indicating a state of deep exhaustion. The necrotic rot on his left forearm had progressed to 18.2% surface coverage. The skin was the color of a bruised plum, hardening into a chitinous texture.
A translucent overlay flickered into existence within my primary visual cortex.
> [SYSTEM DIRECTIVE 01]
> Subject: Leon. Goal: Induce Structural Instability. Calculate the primary anchor of the social unit. Probability of Leon being the anchor: 92.4%.
The logic was sound. If the anchor point failed, the peripheral units—Kael and Elara—would lose their orientation. I began a scan of the environment.
Kael was 3.1 meters away, sitting near the fire. His pupils were dilated to 8 millimeters. His hands moved in a repetitive, non-functional pattern, scratching at the dry skin of his knuckles. He was in a state of post-traumatic catatonia. Elara was 10.4 meters away, standing at the edge of the light. Her grip on the bone-knife was constant. Her muscular tension suggested a high level of cortisol. She was the only variable capable of identifying my true nature.
I initiated the first phase of the directive.
I modulated my internal temperature to 35.2 degrees Celsius. I induced a rapid, uneven contraction in the skeletal muscle groups of my legs and torso. My heart rate jumped from 60 to 142 beats per minute. To an external observer, this was a neurological event. A seizure.
The movement was loud enough to disturb the silence. Leon's eyes opened. The golden hue of his iris was clouded by a grey film—necrotic delirium at 42%. He moved toward me, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.
"Atlas?" he whispered.
I did not respond with words. I increased the intensity of the muscle spasms. I let my head strike the stone floor with exactly 12 newtons of force, enough to create a dull thud without causing a cranial fracture.
Leon reached out. His hands were cold, yet the aura he projected was warm. The Resolute Aura manifested as a faint, amber radiance. It was a stabilization frequency. It attempted to reorganize the chaotic signals I was emitting.
"I have you," Leon said. His voice was thick with the scent of frozen blood. "I will not let the darkness take you. We are together."
I maintained the simulation for another 42 seconds. During this time, I monitored Leon's energy expenditure. To maintain the aura while suffering from necrotic rot, he was burning through his metabolic reserves at three times the normal rate. The amber light grew brighter as he pushed his remaining strength into me.
[Simulation: Success]
I allowed the spasms to subside. I opened my eyes and looked at him. I calibrated my voice to a frequency that suggested fragility and pain.
"It... it hurts when the light touches me," I said.
Leon's expression shifted. The logic in his mind, clouded by fever, processed this as my body being too weak to handle the intensity of his protection. He immediately dimmed the aura. The golden light retracted until it was a mere flicker. The protective barrier around the camp weakened. The shadows at the edge of the plaza crept forward by 1.5 meters.
Leon slumped back against the pillar, his breath rattling in his chest. He was now at 12% structural integrity.
I turned my attention to Kael. He was watching us, his eyes wide. He needed a catalyst.
I shifted my weight, extending my foot toward the center of the camp. There was a small protein ration—a block of compressed algae and synthetic fat—resting on a stone near the fire. With a calculated, seemingly accidental motion, I kicked it.
The ration tumbled into the center of the moss-fire.
The chemical reaction was immediate. The bioluminescent moss reacted to the synthetic fats, causing a sudden, violent flare-up. The flame turned a sickly, neon purple. A plume of foul-smelling smoke billowed into the air, smelling of burnt hair and ozone.
Kael screamed. The sound was high-pitched and lacked any coherent structure. He scrambled backward, his heels digging into the soft, leather-like floor of the plaza.
"It's the Marrow!" Kael shrieked. "It's inside the fire! It's eating the light!"
Elara was across the plaza in 2.4 seconds. She grabbed Kael by the shoulders, but he was thrashing. The fire continued to hiss, the purple light casting long, distorted shadows against the rib-walls. The shadows seemed to move with a life of their own, an optical illusion caused by the flickering flame.
I watched Kael's breakdown. I analyzed the frequency of his screams. There was no empathy in my processing units, only data points. His psychological collapse was 88% complete. He was no longer a functional unit of the group.
Elara turned toward Leon. "Leon! The perimeter is failing! The fire is poisoned! We have to move!"
Leon tried to stand. He used the Rib-pillar for leverage, but his legs buckled. The necrotic rot had reached his knee. He looked at me, his gaze pleading. He was looking for a reason to keep going. He was looking for a direction.
I initiated the second phase of the directive.
I sat up, my movements slow and deliberate. I pointed toward the North-East corridor—a section of the Marrow that my internal maps designated as a "High-Pressure Digestion Zone." The walls there were not stone; they were raw, pulsing muscle fibers that secreted acid.
"I saw a path... where the ribs don't bleed," I whispered.
Leon looked toward the dark tunnel. In his delirious state, the metaphor of "bleeding ribs" appealed to his desire for a sanctuary. He didn't see a trap; he saw a way out.
"Did you hear him, Elara?" Leon gasped. He reached out and grabbed my hand. I did not flinch. I let him pull me up. "He saw a path. A safe place."
"Leon, we don't know what's down there," Elara countered. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing. She was searching for a flaw in my mask. "He's just a kid. He's traumatized. He doesn't know what he saw."
"He is one of us," Leon barked. The effort caused him to cough up a shard of calcified blood. It clinked against the floor like a pebble. "We move together. We follow the light he found."
Leon's authority was the final thread holding the group together. Despite her suspicions, Elara could not challenge him without breaking the group entirely. She looked at the dying fire, then at the screaming Kael, and finally at the encroaching shadows.
"Fine," she spat. "But if we die in that hole, Leon, I'm leaving him behind."
Leon ignored her. He leaned his weight on me. I felt the heat of his fever through his clothes. I felt the vibration of his damaged lungs. He was a dying machine, yet he was still attempting to function as a shield.
"Please... stay close to me, Leon," I said.
The sentence was designed to trigger his protector complex. He tightened his grip on my shoulder.
"Always," he whispered.
We began the trek toward the North-East corridor. Kael was dragged along by Elara, his whimpers echoing through the hollow plaza. As we moved, I felt the passive siphoning effect accelerating. Leon was so close that my proximity was actively draining the remaining warmth from his body. Every step he took for me was a step toward his own cessation.
The light of the plaza faded behind us. We entered the throat of the Marrow. The walls here were damp and warm. The floor was soft, yielding under our feet like the tongue of a giant beast. The air was thick with the scent of gastric juices.
As the group's morale hit a local minimum, a surge of energy pulsed through my core. It was not physical heat, but a sharp, psychic friction. It was the taste of their collective despair, processed through the System's filters.
> [STATUS UPDATE: LEVEL 2]
> Evolutionary Milestone Reached.
> New Ability Unlocked: Telepathic Osmosis (Passive).
> Current Status: Superior Predator in Mimicry Phase.
I looked at the back of Leon's head. For the first time, I didn't just see the data of his pulse and temperature. I heard a faint, distorted echo in the back of my mind. It was a fragment of a thought, a golden thread of misplaced hope.
...save them... must keep them safe... Atlas is the key...
The irony was noted but not enjoyed. I adjusted my pace to match Leon's failing stride. We were deep in the dark now. The architecture around us was shifting, the muscular walls beginning to contract in a slow, peristaltic rhythm.
The architecture of their collapse is 100% complete; now, I begin to listen to their echoes.