The creature's essence flowed into Kaelen like liquid fire, a torrent of raw, chaotic energy that threatened to tear him apart from within. His vision blurred, replaced by a kaleidoscope of fractured memories—not his own, but the creature's. Flashes of a normal human life, shattered by the unmaking, twisted into something monstrous by the entropic forces. A banker. A father of two. Now reduced to a predatory husk, consumed by hunger and madness. And now, being consumed in turn.
Kaelen wanted to scream, to release the creature, to reject this horrific communion. But the void within him, that cold, empty space that had saved him from the unmaking, greedily devoured every drop of the creature's essence. The hunger, momentarily sated, purred with dark satisfaction. The creature's form grew more translucent with each passing second, its crimson eyes dimming, its struggles weakening. And then, with a final, pitiful whimper, it collapsed into itself, dissolving not into the multi-colored particles of the unmaking, but into a stream of dark, viscous energy that flowed directly into Kaelen's outstretched hands.
He staggered backward, gasping, his mind reeling from the violation he had just committed. He had not merely killed the creature; he had consumed it, absorbed its very being. The revulsion was immediate, overwhelming. He fell to his knees, retching, but nothing came up. The creature was now part of him, its essence integrated into the void within. And with it came... knowledge. Understanding. The creature—no, Marcus, that had been his name—had been drawn to the plaza by the same hunger that now drove Kaelen. The fountain at the center, with its trickle of black, oily liquid, was a nexus of entropic energy, a wound in reality that bled power.
As the last vestiges of Marcus's essence settled within him, Kaelen experienced a profound shift in his perception. The world around him seemed to crystallize into sharper focus, as if he were seeing through multiple sets of eyes simultaneously. The crimson sky pulsed with patterns he hadn't noticed before—intricate, mathematical rhythms that spoke of design rather than chaos. The dissolving buildings no longer appeared as random decay but as deliberate deconstruction, each particle following invisible guidelines as it separated from the whole. Most disturbing of all, he could now perceive faint, ghostly outlines surrounding the other creatures in the plaza—auras of entropic energy, each with its own distinct signature, its own... flavor.
The scholarly part of him, the fragment that was still Klein Moretti, catalogued these observations with clinical detachment, even as the rest of his being recoiled in horror. This new awareness wasn't just enhanced perception; it was a fundamental alteration of his consciousness. Marcus's memories, fragmented and alien, had begun to integrate with his own, creating a hybrid understanding that was neither fully human nor entirely... something else. He could recall Marcus's transformation—the initial terror as reality began to unmake itself around him, the desperate flight through dissolving streets, the moment when the hunger first awakened, and the gradual surrender to its demands. A cautionary tale, perhaps, of what awaited Kaelen if he surrendered to the void within.
And there were others like him. Changed. Transformed. Some, like Marcus, had become predators, hunting the remaining humans or each other for sustenance. Others had found different paths, different adaptations to the unmaking. The knowledge was fragmented, chaotic, but undeniably valuable. Kaelen's scholarly mind, the part of him that was still Klein Moretti, latched onto this information, desperate for any understanding of this new, terrifying reality.
But there was no time to process this revelation. The other creatures in the plaza had noticed the commotion. They turned as one, their attention now fixed on Kaelen. He could feel their hunger, their predatory intent, a mirror of his own. But there was something else too—fear. They had witnessed what he had done to Marcus. They recognized him not as prey, but as a new apex predator. A threat.
One of the amorphous creatures, a shifting mass of shadow and flesh, let out a keening wail that sent shivers down Kaelen's spine. It was a warning, a call to arms. The others responded, their forms tensing, preparing to attack or flee. Kaelen knew he couldn't face them all. The consumption of Marcus had left him stronger, more aware of the entropic energies swirling around him, but also disoriented, overwhelmed by the influx of alien memories and sensations.
He scrambled to his feet, snatching up the revolver from where he had dropped it. It might be useless against the unmaking, but it had hurt Marcus, at least momentarily. He backed away from the advancing creatures, his eyes darting around the plaza, seeking an escape route. The Bleeding Tower still loomed in the distance, its obsidian silhouette a constant, ominous presence. But between him and it lay a gauntlet of these transformed predators, each one a potential threat—or a potential source of power.
The thought sickened him, yet the hunger within stirred at the prospect. No, he thought firmly. I won't become like them. I won't be reduced to a mindless predator. But even as he rejected the idea, he knew the hunger would only grow stronger. The consumption of Marcus had been a temporary satiation, a brief respite from the gnawing void. It would return, perhaps more demanding than before.
A narrow alleyway to his right offered a potential escape. He lunged for it, his movements faster, more fluid than before. Another gift from Marcus's essence, perhaps. The creatures gave chase, their forms blurring as they moved with unnatural speed. Kaelen ran, his heart pounding, the revolver clutched tightly in his hand. The alleyway twisted and turned, its walls warping and shifting in the throes of the unmaking. He ducked under a collapsing archway, leapt over a chasm that had opened in the cobblestones, his enhanced reflexes guiding him through the chaotic terrain.
He emerged onto another street, this one eerily quiet. The buildings here were more intact, less affected by the unmaking, though still bathed in the crimson glow of the alien moon. He paused, listening for his pursuers. The sounds of their chase had faded, but he knew they wouldn't give up easily. He needed shelter, a place to regroup, to process what had happened, what he was becoming.
A small, nondescript building caught his eye. A library, its façade still relatively untouched by the chaos. Knowledge. Information. If there were answers to be found in this dying world, a library seemed as good a place as any to start looking. He approached cautiously, the revolver raised, ready for any threat. The door was ajar, swinging gently in a breeze that carried the scent of old paper and dust, untainted by the ozone and decay that permeated the rest of the city.
He pushed the door open wider, stepping into the dim interior. Rows of bookshelves stretched before him, their contents seemingly undisturbed. The crimson light filtered through high windows, casting long shadows across the floor. It was quiet, almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos outside. But Kaelen knew better than to trust appearances in this new reality. He moved deeper into the library, his senses alert for any sign of danger.
As he passed between the shelves, he noticed something strange. The books... they were changing. Not dissolving like so much else in this world, but transforming. The titles on their spines shifted and morphed, the letters rearranging themselves into new words, new meanings. He pulled one from the shelf, a thick tome with a leather binding. The title, which had been something about local history when he first glanced at it, now read "The Anatomy of Entropic Consumption." He opened it, his hands trembling.
The pages were filled with diagrams and text, describing in clinical detail the process of consuming entropic energy, of absorbing the essence of other beings. It was as if the book had rewritten itself in response to his presence, to his needs. Or perhaps it had always contained this information, and his new perception, enhanced by Marcus's essence, allowed him to see it for what it truly was.
He flipped through the pages, his scholar's mind absorbing the information with a mixture of horror and fascination. The book described different types of consumption, different sources of entropic energy, and the effects they could have on the consumer. It spoke of "Anomalies" like himself, beings that could resist the unmaking and harness its power. And it hinted at something more, something beyond mere survival—a transformation, a becoming.
"I see you've found the Codex Entropicus. Fascinating reading, isn't it?"
The voice, soft and cultured, came from behind him. Kaelen whirled around, the revolver raised, his finger tightening on the trigger. A figure stood at the end of the aisle, partially obscured by shadow. Not one of the twisted predators from the plaza, but a man—or at least, something that still resembled a man. Tall, thin, dressed in the tattered remains of what might have once been an academic's robes. His face was gaunt, his eyes deep-set and glowing with a faint, amber light. But unlike the creatures outside, there was an intelligence in those eyes, a self-awareness that went beyond mere predatory instinct.
"Who are you?" Kaelen demanded, his voice hoarse, the revolver steady in his hand.
The figure smiled, a thin, knowing expression that didn't reach those glowing eyes. "A fellow scholar, like yourself. Or perhaps I should say, like Klein Moretti was. Before the unmaking. Before you became... something else." He gestured to the book in Kaelen's hand. "That won't tell you everything you need to know, I'm afraid. The library responds to our needs, yes, but its knowledge is... incomplete. Fragmented, like reality itself."
Kaelen's mind raced. How did this stranger know about Klein Moretti? About his transformation? "What do you want?" he asked, not lowering the gun.
The figure took a step forward, into a shaft of crimson light. His features were more visible now—aristocratic, with high cheekbones and a sharp, aquiline nose. His skin was pale, almost translucent, with a network of dark veins visible beneath. "The same thing you want, I imagine. Answers. Understanding. A way to survive in this new, broken reality." He extended a hand, long-fingered and elegant. "My name is Thorne. Professor Elias Thorne. And I believe we can help each other, Mr. Moretti. Or do you prefer Kaelen now?"
The hunger within Kaelen stirred, sensing a potential source of power in this strange academic. But there was something else too—a recognition, a kinship. Thorne was like him, an Anomaly, changed but not unmade. A potential ally in this nightmare world. Or perhaps, a more dangerous predator than any he had yet encountered.
"How do you know who I am?" Kaelen asked, still not lowering the revolver.
Thorne's smile widened, revealing teeth that were just a fraction too sharp to be human. "The Tower knows. And through it, so do I." He gestured to the window, where the obsidian silhouette of the Bleeding Tower was visible against the crimson sky. "It calls to us, you know. All of us who have been... changed. It's the source of the unmaking, yes, but also of our transformation. Our becoming."
The word echoed in Kaelen's mind, resonating with the whispers he had heard in the courtyard. The becoming. "What does it want?" he asked, a chill running down his spine.
Thorne's expression grew serious, the playful smile fading. "That, my young friend, is the question we must answer. Before it's too late. Before we lose ourselves entirely to the hunger." He looked pointedly at the book in Kaelen's hand. "Before we become nothing more than consumers of a dying reality."
The hunger within Kaelen pulsed, as if in response to Thorne's words. A reminder of what he was becoming, of the monster that lurked beneath his human exterior. But also, perhaps, a key to understanding this new, terrifying existence. To finding a purpose beyond mere survival.
"Tell me more," he said, finally lowering the revolver. "Tell me everything you know."