Kivas stood at the edge of the shelter, the last of the mist curling against her bare soles.
The sky above them had adopted the strange dullness of dusk, yet no moon traced its way across the sky.
One by one, Kivas equipped the arsenal Samael had brought.
She tied the Flask of Imbued Equilibrium to a rough strap across her waist, improvising a belt from coiled plant-fiber and reinforced bark. The bottle clicked against her hip with a soft pulse. Its contents swirled calmly, golden and waiting.
The Voidwood Fang slid into a sheath she had stitched from dried hide scraps, positioned against the small of her back. It was light and balanced, barely felt unless she reached for it.
The knowledge that it could bypass shadow-aligned cores intrigued her, suggesting elemental systems and deeper soul mechanics she had yet to explore. The Well of the Soul had told her many things, but so much of it remained cryptic, and so much of it was untold, cloaked in shifting glyphs she still struggled to interpret.
This world kept secrets beneath secrets.
She slipped the Chitinous Sigil ring over her index finger. It adjusted its size automatically, cold at first, then strangely warm. A faint shimmer pulsed when her mana rose.
"The fact that there is an item that helps resist an attack against a certain species really makes this world more of an RPG game than anything.
The Driftwool Wrap settled over her shoulders, black and soft as silence, the edges barely visible against the filtered light. When she tugged the hood up for a moment, her outline dimmed in the shadows, faint mist curling tighter around her presence.
The Staring Pearl she tucked into a leather pouch also fastened to her thigh, its cold weight resting like a promise she'd rather not have to use.
It pulsed with unease when she held it, a feeling that whispered it would work once, and only once, when fear must win the moment.
Then came her primary arms.
The Serated Coralblade, elegant in its fusion of coral ridges and polished bone, latched into a newly fitted loop on her belt. She had run her fingers across its edge for long minutes earlier, feeling the intensity of the pull of speed it promised with every drop of vitality it will drank.
And lastly, the Remington 870, her first ever Exotic Tier loot, or Samael's technically. It hummed softly in her hands, attached to her soul.
She slung the Lantern of the Buried Voice onto her back, its green flame sealed for now, and slipped the Drakeborn Favor locket around her neck. She felt its dormant ward settle just beneath her collarbone, inactive but prepared.
The rest she left behind.
Either because they were useless, or they were too much of a pain to bring along.
Samael leaned beside the entrance, arms crossed, watching her with a soft smirk. "You look... adorned."
"I feel like a treasure chest spat me out."
Samael tilted her head slightly, her gaze appraising the fitted gear with an amused gleam. "It reminds me of the last human I ate. Came at me just like that. Covered in Curio gear from toe to temple, glinting like a chandelier in heat."
Kivas's expression twitched. "That's an image I didn't need." She gestured vaguely to herself. "Because I'm kind of dressed the same way."
Samael offered no apology, her smile unmoved. "You are."
"Should I be worried?"
"Maybe."
Kivas groaned and rolled her shoulders. "Why don't you wear or use anything, then? You only have that soul-fabric outfit, the same as mine, but I've never seen you use loot. Not even the rare stuff."
"Curio items are for the weak, the unsure, the ones still scrambling for assuredness in Fathomi," Samael said simply. "Eventually, you stop looking for clutter and only want the best. Legendary. Godly. The kind that bends rules."
Kivas stared at her. "And where's your collection then, miss apex predator?"
Samael raised a hand, flexed her fingers once. "I used to have a special and powerful skill. One which allows me to devour Curio items and absorb their traits or power depending on the object."
Kivas's eyes sparkled. "You could what?"
"Consume the relic. Gain its power. No need to carry. No risk of breakage." Samael's voice was quiet, distant.
"That's amazing! You could just chew through a dozen artifacts and become a one-man!"
"I was," Samael admitted.
Kivas hesitated, the tone finally registering. "Right…"
"Gone." Samael looked to the side, voice losing some of its edge. "This Exo Human form stripped it, or maybe I had permanently lost that precious skill forever."
Kivas's enthusiasm dimmed, sympathy slipping in a panicked consoling, "You'll get it back. You're ridiculously wise. There's nothing that you can't do when you put your mind into it, right?"
Samael's gaze returned, sharp and disturbing. "Maybe I should kill you. See if that triggers something."
Kivas stiffened immediately. "Hey! Don't discard something you just claimed! That's not moral!" Her arms flailed in complaint.
Samael chuckled, low and pleased. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood."
Soon enough, the forest accepted their passage without resistance as they departed their beloved shelter. The shifting roots and soft-moving paths seem to accommodate them.
The brush was thinner today, but the trees leaned inward, their dark trunks slick with soul-dew.
Kivas crouched low as Samael raised a hand, silent. Their steps turned cautious.
The Driftwool Wrap cloaked her better than expected, dampening her sound and softening her outline.
Kivas followed close behind until they came to a break in the trees.
Ahead, between two collapsed stone obelisks, something moved.
A towering figure paced slowly, dragging thick arms behind it, one of them clutching a giant stone sword that could visibly be seen chipped from all of the reckless friction.
This being stood upright on two massive legs, its entire body swollen with corded muscle, gray flesh pulsing with dull light between bulging veins.
Its head—if it could be called that—was that of a deep-sea fish. The maw jutted forward with needle teeth, eyes blank and wide, as if perpetually panicked and blind to its own horror.
Kivas stared, frozen.
Samael leaned in beside her. "Ah. A human."
Kivas's expression twisted instantly. "That's not a human."
Samael shrugged, the smirk never leaving. "Bipedal hominin, large brain cavity, upright posture, uses tools. Meets the standard."
"That thing has a lanternfish head!"
"Still a human."
Kivas drew a sharp breath. "If that's what humans look like here, I'm going to start questioning everything."
"They're the baseline of form. Most sapient entities in Fathomi stabilize into a hominin structure." Samael's tone was serene. "Flesh adapts to intelligence. Intelligence adapts to survival. Human is the simplest conclusion. The average."
Kivas squinted at her. "Then what are you?"
"Exo Human. Human exterior. Core of something else. Could be a Voidling. Could be divine. Could be something worse~"
Kivas nodded slowly. "So you're like a dragon in human skin, with context."
Samael gave a subtle tilt of her head. "Exactly."
"Still, are you sure that we're seeing a human right now, and not a Voidling?"
"Yep, that is no Voidling."
They watched the creature shift weight, turning toward a grove of flowering fungi. Its gait was heavy but deliberate.
Kivas leaned in closer, seeing that this was a good opportunity to delve into this topic. "So what's a Voidling, really?"
"An entropy-tethered entity. They align with destruction, negation, rot, or malice," Samael replied. "They are the inverse of preservation. Some do it consciously. Others are born into it. They warp space. Unwrite logic. Their cores resonate with dissolution. Though, at an uncertain caliber."
Kivas looked again at the creature.
The fish-head creature paused. Its gaze snapped toward them, sniffing the air through thin gill-slits.
Samael nudged her.
"You should strike first. That one's going to charge."
Kivas sighed, pulled the Remington 870 forward, and primed the pump. Mana channeled into the shell chamber.
She leveled the barrel, eyes narrowing at the shifting outline of her soon-to-be prey, approaching, running at her with the intensity of a speeding car.