Vessel of the Ruined god

Chapter 5: The Call of the Core

The blue flash of the containment rounds singed the air, turning the humid night into a strobe-lit nightmare. Vaelric didn't wait for a second invitation. He sprinted, his boots barely touching the cracked asphalt, his body fueled by a kinetic surge that made him feel like he was running on springs.

"Hey! Don't you dare leave me behind, you neon-glowing track star!" Seraphyne shouted, her breath hitching as she vaulted over a jagged pile of rebar.

"I’m not trying to leave you! My legs are just on a very strict itinerary!" Vaelric yelled back, his voice strained.

“The girl is a drag on our momentum,” the entity inside him rumbled. “Leave her to the Preservationists. They will dispose of her, and we shall proceed to the summit undisturbed.”

"Shut it! If she dies, who’s going to keep me from turning into a pile of ash?" Vaelric hissed at the dark sky.

"What was that?" Seraphyne panted, catching up as they dove into the shadows of a collapsed highway overpass. "Were you just arguing with your own sternum?"

"It’s a complicated relationship! We’re working through some boundary issues!" Vaelric skidded to a halt, leaning against a rusted girder. "How far is this 'Red Zone' anyway?"

Seraphyne checked her wrist-mounted map, her eyes scanning the horizon. "We’re entering it now. Everything beyond this overpass is basically a lawless death trap. No Preservationists, but plenty of things that don't need a thermal scanner to find a snack."

"Great. So it’s either 'corporate death' or 'feral monster death.' Can we aim for 'boring retirement' just once?"

"Not until you stop acting like a lighthouse," she said, eyeing the pulsing golden light radiating from his shirt. "How are you feeling? You look like you’ve been through a meat grinder."

Vaelric clutched his chest, his face pale. "My bones feel like they’re vibrating at a frequency that shouldn't exist. And I’m hungry. Not for food. I want to... break something. Something big. Like a bridge. Or a skyscraper."

"Don't you dare," Seraphyne warned, her hand drifting to her blade. "If you start knocking over buildings, you’re on your own."

“The girl is frightened. How delicious,” the god hissed. “Her heartbeat is like a frantic rabbit. Use your hand, vessel. Tear the next thing you see. It will soothe the fire.”

"Stop talking about snacks! I am not a serial killer, and I am definitely not a deity!" Vaelric shouted, throwing his arms up. The air crackled with stray static, forcing Seraphyne to shield her eyes.

"Vaelric, calm down!" she snapped. "Focus on me. Breathe. Whatever is inside you, it’s not in charge. You are."

"It’s getting louder, Seraphyne. It’s like a concert in my skull and the bass is turned up to infinity." He took a shaky breath, his skin cooling slightly. "Okay. I’m here. I’m breathing. I’m just a guy. A guy who needs a nap and a very large sandwich."

"We’ll find you a sandwich. First, we need to cross the valley." She pointed toward a smudge of amber light in the distance, flickering against the dark silhouette of the mountain. "There’s a settlement. Might have supplies, might have traps. Either way, it’s better than sleeping in the mud."

The walk through the Red Zone was a blur of shifting shadows and the distant, hungry howls of things that hadn't seen the sun in decades. By the time they reached the outer perimeter of the village, Vaelric felt like he was held together by nothing more than spite and the weird, humming energy in his blood.

The village was a fortress of rusted scrap metal and barbed wire, guarded by men in mismatched armor who looked more like scavengers than soldiers.

"Looks like a party," Vaelric muttered, his arm twitching under his sleeve as the scales beneath his skin began to prickle.

“Inferiors,” the god muttered. “They dare to build a fence against the Ruin? Let me show them the cost of such arrogance.”

"We are not raiding a village," Vaelric whispered, his jaw clenched.

"They’re holding people," Seraphyne said, pointing at a group of figures huddled near the gate. "Look at the chains. That’s not a settlement, Vaelric. That’s a labor camp."

Vaelric’s blood ran cold. "A warlord? Here?"

"Common in the Red Zone," she said, her expression hardening. "If we go in, we’re going to have to play the part. You want to save those people? We need a distraction. Or a lie."

"I’m great at lying. I once told a scavenger that a toaster was a high-frequency communications device."

"Perfect. Then you’re the envoy. I’m the muscle. We go in, we demand an audience, we find the keys, we leave."

"And if they ask why I’m glowing?"

"Tell them it’s a 'divine radiation allergy' and you’re here to bless their crops. I don't know, improvise!"

They stepped into the light of the torches. Immediately, a dozen crossbows pointed at their chests.

"Halt!" a voice boomed from the wall. A man with a scar running from his ear to his chin stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Vaelric’s pulsating shirt. "A scavenger and a shiny toy? You’re a long way from the ruins, pretty boy."

Vaelric straightened his posture, trying to look imposing while his chest hummed a violent, rhythmic melody. "I am... an associate of the mountain. I’m here to discuss your inventory."

The warlord laughed, a dry, grating sound. "An associate? You look like you’re about to pop, kid. Why should I let you inside my gates?"

"Because," Vaelric said, his voice dropping an octave as the entity surged forward, "you are currently sitting on property that does not belong to you."

The warlord froze. His gaze dropped to Vaelric’s neck, where the golden veins had begun to crawl upward like living ink. As the light flared, revealing the jagged, obsidian-like texture of the skin around Vaelric’s collar, the warlord’s face drained of all color.

He stumbled back, his hands shaking as he signaled his men to lower their weapons. "That mark," the warlord gasped, his voice trembling. "That’s the... the sign of the Ruin. You aren't a scavenger."

Vaelric felt a cold, jagged smile spread across his own face—one he hadn't chosen. He reached up, his fingers brushing the pulsing, scaly skin on his neck, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, ancient light.

"Finally," the voice rumbled from his throat, echoing off the iron gates. "Someone with eyes that aren't clouded by greed."

Seraphyne grabbed Vaelric’s arm, her knuckles white. "Vaelric, stop. You're going to get us killed."

"No," Vaelric whispered, his voice vibrating with a power that wasn't his. "I think the party is just getting started."