From Moving Crates to Killing Gods-Chapter 87: Wip

"Come on." I said annoyed, staring at the outpost entrance. The words mostly for myself.

Small structure, mountain on three sides, visible damage to the exterior. Exactly the kind of place that should have been empty.

"Every outpost has to hold something." I added.

Kira looked at me. "What kind of something?" she asked. Her voice carried the tired resignation of someone who had learned that ’something’ was rarely good.

"Small." I replied while keeping the spheres spinning and reaching further with my sense. The presence was tucked deep into the far corner, pressed against the wall like it was trying to become part of it. Fast heartbeat. Warm. Alive. "Not a Corruptor. Something much smaller."

"How small?" Finn asked.

"Small enough that I almost missed it." I said.

I didn’t wait for a response. I walked through the entrance alone, moving slowly, keeping my footsteps quiet the way you learn to when you’ve spent years not waking other people in a stacked dormitory at three in the morning.

The interior was a single room. Bare walls, a few broken crates stacked against one side, silver floor dulled with age. It was nothing like the sixth. No lamps, no lab, no sealed doors. Just a room that had been empty for a long time.

In the far corner, behind a toppled crate, something moved.

Then stopped.

I crouched slowly.

Two small eyes reflected the light from the entrance. Close together, very round, not blinking.

"Hey." I said quietly. "Easy there, I’m just passing through. You stay over there, I stay over here, and we both pretend this is a completely normal conversation."

"Wip."

The sound was tiny, almost like a question. Almost saying ’who are you and why are you in my house.’

The animal was small enough to hold in both hands. Four legs, a round body covered in dense pale fur that looked like it had collected dust from sitting very still for a very long time. A tail, thick and short, currently tucked completely against its body. The eyes were large and dark and currently expressing something that translated clearly across whatever species divide existed between us.

It was terrified.

"Wip." it said again, quieter. "Wip wip wip." A whole sentence in three syllables, probably ’please don’t eat me, I’m very small and probably taste bad.’

I didn’t move closer. I just crouched there for a moment, letting it look at me, letting it decide I wasn’t about to do anything sudden.

Then I stood, walked back outside, and opened my pack.

"There’s a passive mob in there." I told the group. "Small fluffy thing, scared out of its mind."

Coco immediately tried to go inside. I put a hand on his shoulder.

"Give it space." I said, digging through my pack until I found the piece of dried meat left over from the sixth outpost cans. "I’m going to leave it food. After that we leave it alone and let it decide what it wants to do."

Coco stared at the doorway with restrained urgency. He was totally scared of Corruptors, but he wanted to see the passive mob.

I went back in, crouched again, and set the meat down on the floor a few feet from the crate. An offering, a peace treaty.

Then I stood up and walked out without looking at it again.

When I got back outside Coco still had some questions.

"And if the little animal comes out on his own, is that fine?" Coco asked, playing with his fingers while looking to the side. For a moment I forgot that this guy right here was as old as me and not a little kid, who knows what juice addiction does to your brain.

"Then it comes out, just don’t chase it." I replied.

Coco looked offended. "I would never chase a small animal."

"You chased a butterfly for twenty minutes yesterday."

The silence that followed made it clear the whole group agreed. Even Coco.

After that we started our usual routine when reaching an outpost.

Finn worked on the walls with the focused patience he brought to anything involving silver. The sounds of him reshaping metal filled the air in a low, rhythmic way, steady and reliable. Kira’s vine started climbing the exterior almost immediately, pale green growth already threading into the cracks of the mountain face. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

I set up in the open ground in front of the entrance and started my training with the rocks.

The ledge had plenty of them. Flat ones, rounded ones, ones with sharp edges. I worked through the mental sequence I was developing. Distance, angle, volume, touch, lock position, switch.

The consistency was better than a week ago. Not perfect, but better.

Phinyx had settled into meditation nearby, sitting cross legged on a flat rock with his eyes closed, hands loose on his knees. The presence of him doing absolutely nothing was strangely calming in a way that was difficult to explain. Maybe he was creating some positive vibes in silence.

For a while I just worked.

Switch. Adjust. Switch.

I was mid sequence, both boxes locked, when I heard a sound behind me.

"Wip."

I stopped and turned slowly.

The small animal was sitting close behind me. The fur was still dusty, but the tail was no longer tucked. It was extended now, sweeping slowly back and forth across the stone.

In its mouth was a rock.

Not a random rock. One of mine. One I had used maybe twenty minutes ago and left to the side when I moved to a new grouping.

It set the rock down at my feet with a small, deliberate motion, like it was presenting a gift. Like it was saying ’here, this belongs to you, I found it.’

Then it sat back and swept its tail again.

"Wip."

I looked at the rock, then at the animal, then back at the rock.

"You want me to move it." I said.

"Wip wip."

The tail picked up speed.

Behind me, Phinyx opened one eye. "The vibes are good." he said simply before closing it again. The man was a constant source of unhelpful but accurate commentary.

I picked up the rock.

The animal’s whole body leaned forward slightly. Ears rising, tail now moving with an energy completely out of scale with something its size. It watched the rock with an intensity that suggested this might be the most important thing happening in the wasteland today.

"All right." I said while turning back toward the ledge and selecting a second point. "Today is your lucky day, I have the perfect ability for this, prepare to be amazed... or confused."

Switch.

The rock vanished from my hand and reappeared further into the distance.

"WIP."

The sound came out at twice the previous volume. The animal bolted after the rock, grabbed it, dragged it back across the stone with its short legs working hard against the weight, and dropped it at my feet again.

Then it sat back.

Waiting.

Tail moving.

I stood there for a moment with the distinct feeling that I had just been hired. I hadn’t applied for this position and the interviewer could only say one word. But here I was, employee of the month at the rock moving factory.

I picked up the rock again. "You understand this is training." I told it. "Not playing."

The animal didn’t appear to have any philosophical objections... for now.

I looked across the ledge at the other rocks I hadn’t touched yet. Enough material for another two hours at least. The seventh outpost was small, the walls were being fixed, Kira’s vine was growing, Coco was placing the canteens around the perimeter.

And apparently I had acquired a training partner who worked entirely for the satisfaction of watching things move through space.

I set my feet and locked the mental boxes in my mind. I’d use the same small rock and switch it for the middle section of a bigger rock.

Switch.

The rock cracked against the far wall and the animal was already moving before it landed, a small pale blur across the stone, completely fearless. Which raised certain questions about how exactly it had survived this long in the wasteland alone.

Fearlessness was not a survival trait here.

So where did this thing come from?