Alpha Strike: [An interstellar Weapon Platform’s Guide to being a Dungeon Core] (Book 2 title)

We lease the Kraken: Pilot Chapter



I've got something special for you all today!

I recently saw a funny pun and it triggered that inspiration bug!

What was suppose to be a short 2k word concept chapter, turned into almost 6k words after 8 hours of writing. orz...

The story itself is a "System" story set in a superhero "nexus" world, where the MC sets up shop then collect various Cryptids to sell or Rent.

I really like the story concept and what I've got here so far.

No time frame for when I'll start working on this one fully yet, but it'll likely be sometime after the first book of Alpha Strike is finished, here in the next few months.

Tell me what you think!

——————————————————————————————

Jeremiah tapped the small fishbowl sitting on his desk. The tiny red octopus inside waved back at him, blowing a few bubbles. The young man sighed and stood, placed one hand on his hip, and ran his hand over his face.

“What am I going to do with you…?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. It’s not like he had asked for a new pet. But what was he going to do? It’s not like he could tell the old man across the hall he didn’t want a pet. That would have been rude. It was a birthday gift after all, and despite his rough exterior, Jeremiah liked the old codger.

Mr. Roger was the first person in the musty, rundown apartment building he’d moved into that didn’t speak to him like he would mug them as soon as they turned their back. Not that Jeremiah could blame them; this part of the outskirts of Prima City wasn’t the safest.

Then again, despite claiming to be 80 years old, Mr. Roger was a 6’5’, 300lb wall of muscle while Jeremiah barely broke 5’11 and never weighed over 180lb in his entire life, despite being slightly pudgy from life as a veterinary student. The first time Jeremiah met the intimidating black man, he was more than a little ashamed to admit he feared what would happen to him.

Despite his appearances, though, Mr. Roger was a jolly man who more than once had helped Jeremiah out of a tough spot in the last few months. Jeremiah did his best to return the favors however he could.

Good people were hard to find in this part of town, or at least learned how to keep out of sight.

The neighborhood hadn’t had a residential “Boss” in nearly five years. Not since the last one was killed by a rival during the last outskirt war. In theory, any other Super could have taken over and reigned in the other criminal elements. But every time they tried, the former boss’s old rival would… remove them. Sometimes with bribes, sometimes with threats, and sometimes with more bloody methods when neither of those worked.

No one knew why the old rival did not just take up the area for themselves. Maybe it was some kind of sick game, playing with the old boss even after they’d already won. Maybe the outskirt wars took too much out of their gang, and they didn’t think they could hold it, so instead kept anyone else from taking it until they could.

Whatever the reason may have been, with no Boss to keep the criminal element in check and no Capes patrolling this far out, the neighborhood had gone to hell. Within half a year, most of the buildings had been abandoned, and the people gone, leaving only those too weak, too old, or too poor to move anywhere else. At least that meant he had got the apartment for cheap.

It was a small blessing in the chaos that had been the last four months.

Jeremiah laughed at himself. Four months? Was that all it had been since his life had gone down the drain? Why did it feel so much longer? Yet only yesterday.

Only four months ago, he’d been a promising young student on the fast track to graduation from one of the top veterinary schools in the country. He’d lived state-of-the-art house, literally built from the ground up by his Artificer older sister. They’d been living the dream! The ideal that was promised to so many people who came to Prima City seeking refuge and wealth.

Oh, sure, now these days the Wilds weren’t that bad, at least most of the time. With Supers becoming more and more common over the last few centuries, especially Artificers like his sister, mankind had taken its place at the top of the food chain. Now, hubs of technology and civilization can be found across every corner of the country.

But occasionally, you’d still hear stories of some small town getting wiped out when an animal triggered a little too close to their walls. Or someone who thought they could cut costs on their rift dampeners, and a rift opened up in the town square. Or a hundred other things that could go wrong in a place without enough strong Supers.

That’s why places like Prima City, as an established Hero’s Hall, were so popular with the common man. Even if that led to rapid overpopulation and development. It always surprised Jeremiah what some people would do to feel just a little safer.

His sister, and by extension, Jeremiah, were some of the lucky ones. Artificers were always in demand. After all, they’re the ones who created all the technology that allowed such a mega city like Prima City to exist in the first place. As a B-Rank Artificer, Sarah never had to worry about finding work, even as a freelancer. People were throwing themselves at their door to hire her for various projects.

As her younger brother and only family member, Jeremiah also naturally benefited. She’d practically raised him after their parent’s death, and he’d never wanted for anything for as long as he could remember. Everything was perfect. He was going to graduate at the top of his class. His sister had promised to build him a state-of-the-art clinic, and he’d pay her back for everything she’d ever done for him.

His future was laid out before him like a gilded carpet, and all he had to do was strode proudly toward it.

Funny how life can pull that carpet out from under you without a moment’s notice.

They say that when something life-changing happens, your brain imprints the details in hyper-focus. Jeremiah could say for a fact that it was a load of bullcrap.

He didn’t remember where he was or even what he was doing when he got the news. All he could remember was feeling numb. Like his brain had shut itself off in denial.

Sarah was dead.

Not just dead, but killed.

As a Villain.

The official story was that she’d tried to steal something from her latest employer. When they caught her, she went berserk and used her powers to escape. In response, the Hero’s Hall sent a team to subdue her. If it had ended there, things would have been fine. But according to the Capes who responded, his sister had resisted arrest and severally injured one of the responding Supers.

Under Prima City law, that automatically labeled Sarah as a “Villain.”

The ensuing fight leveled an entire city block near the outer ring, and the Capes were “forced” to put her down.

Even now, thinking of the report made Jeremiah’s blood boil. What kind of bull was that?! Sarah had been one of the kindest, caring people he’d known. That wasn’t just his bias talking, either! His older sister regularly built higher-end tech and sold it for under cost in the poorer parts of the city, just so those people could have some comforts that those more well-off hoarded.

She’d even campaigned with others to help build up the outskirts and other rougher parts of town.

The thought that Sarah would not only use her power to steal but purposefully hurt others was preposterous to him. He’d sooner believe that the moon was made of cheese.

Many people his sister had helped had felt the same. Thousands had marched on city hall to demand the truth and justice for Sarah, with Jeremiah leading the helm.

That’s when the stories started.

Rumors of embezzlement. Supposed loans and debts Sarah had taken on to fund various projects. Past “thefts” that were somehow only now coming to light. All of it was ludicrous to those who knew his sister and flimsy from a legal standpoint. But, as more and more “evidence” appeared, whispers began, and support for his sister slowly dwindled.

Until near the end, only Jeremiah remained, standing in front of the courthouse, holding his sign while the surrounding crowd jeered and laughed. Posthumous trials were rare, but thanks to the nature of Sarah’s “crimes” and the heavy push from the mega-corp she’d “stolen” from, Sarah’s trial had turned into a sensation plastered over every news station and even the internet.

It only took 30 minutes for the “jury” to reach a unanimous verdict of “Guilty.”

Just like that, Sarah Bridge, a woman once called the “Saintess of the Outskirts,” was labeled a Class-B Villain, in the same category as murderers and megalomaniac psychopaths.

Under Prima City law, everything she owned, her tech, her bank account, and their home, was seized by the city and used to pay reparations to the “victims.” Not that the people whose homes and businesses were destroyed ever saw any of that, of course. Nearly 95% of it went to pay the corporation she had been working for, as it was deemed they’d “suffered the greatest lose.”

More bullcrap.

He’d tried to fight it. Tried to clear his sister’s name. Anyone with eyes could see what was going on. How could anyone believe any of this?! But nothing worked.

He was homeless, penniless, but for what was left of the allowance in his personal account. No news station would talk to him, and all of Sarah’s old contacts and “friends” had either cut ties completely or vanished into thin air.

To make matters worse, his college had called to inform him that his leave of absence had been denied for unspecified reasons. If he didn’t pay the next semester’s fees, all his hard work would go down the drain.

Jeremiah’s hand tightened around the edge of the fishbowl, and it shook. A fire burned in his chest at the memories, and his gaze became distant and glassy. The gentle touch of a tentacle wrapping around his finger broke him from his memories. Jeremiah jerked and lifted his hand, pulling the tiny creature up with him.

The baby octopus, barely the size of his thumb, stroked a shallow cut that ran the length of his palm. Only then did Jeremiah notice the slightly red tinge to the water in the fishbowl and the smear of blood along the bowl’s lip.

He’d gripped the edge so hard it had cut into his palm, and he hadn’t even noticed. That was some strong glass…

“Oh, crap. I’m sorry, little one. Let’s replace your water and then head to bed,” Jeremiah said as he lifted the bowl with his free hand.

A few moments later, the water was replaced, and Jeremiah’s hand was wrapped. The baby octopus sat at the bottom of its fresh bowl, happily nibbling on a small shrimp. The good thing about such a tiny creature was it ate little, and Mr. Roger assured him that once the few shrimps he’d given Jeremiah ran out, it would eat just about anything.

At least he didn’t have to worry about feeding it.

Jeremiah took a deep breath and stared at the small creature through the glass as it enjoyed its meal. He felt a little calmer, even if the smoldering sparks in his chest still threatened to consume him if he let them.

Maybe Mr. Roger was right. Maybe he needed something to take his mind off things for a while. Sure, he specialized in terrestrial animals, but how hard could it be to watch over a tiny octopus?

Ok, that was probably oversimplifying things, but it would be nice to think of other things for a while…

Jeremiah tapped the glass. The baby octopus stopped eating and looked up at him with intelligent eyes. Several tentacles raised and waved back before the creature returned to its meal.

Jeremiah stood and smiled. Ya… maybe that would be nice…

The young man softly whispered, “I guess that means you need a name, doesn’t it? Mr. Roger said you were a boy, but I didn’t specialize in marine biology, so what do I know?”

The octopus looked up at him and tilted his head.

It reminded him of a hamster he had as a child before his parents had died. That memory made Jeremiah laugh, and he asked the tiny creature, “How about... Billy?”

The baby octopus raised all its tiny tentacles and waved them around in excitement as if it understood. Jeremiah laughed again and patted the tank.

“That’s that, then. Goodnight Billy. Sleep tight.”

With that, Jeremiah climbed into the tiny bed in the middle of the empty apartment and reached for the small desk lamp.

The last thing he saw before the light clicked off was the enormous eyes of the newly christened Billy staring at him.

——————

Several hours later, Jeremiah sat in bed and stared at the dark ceiling. Even after four months in this place, he still had trouble sleeping. Sometimes the nightmares would wake him up in the middle of the night. Sometimes it was the sound of gunshots or fighting on the streets below.

Even now, the bright yellow light from the streetlight cut through the darkness of the almost empty room like a merciless blade, intent on killing Jeremiah’s sleep. The curtains were too short, torn by the previous occupant for one reason or another. Jeremiah moaned and rolled in bed, pulling the cover over his head, but to no avail.

He sighed and flipped on his back before reaching over to the desk Billy’s bowl sat on and opened a drawer. Jeremiah rummaged around for a moment, careful not to wake the sleeping creature, before pulling out a small object.

He pulled it close and held it up in the beam of light so that it was visible. It was a small metal amulet, not much bigger than Billy, and appeared to be made of two pyramids, fused bottom to bottom, twice as long as wide. It hung on a thin chain, spun silently, and glistened in the light.

He stared at the amulet fondly, a soft smile on his face. It was the last thing his sister had ever given him. An “early birthday present,” she had said. Even now, he could remember the letter that came with the box.

“Hey, dork! Happy birthday! I know it’s still a few months away, but I’ve got a big project coming up, and you know how I can get when the itch takes over, so I thought I’d give this to you now. Before you complain, I know you don’t like jewelry, but I made this specifically for you, so show some appreciation! It might not look like anything special now, but I promise, this is some of my finest work yet! I can’t wait to show you everything it can do! I think I’m almost more excited than you! It’s locked for now, though; I don’t need you going and breaking it. I’ll unlock it when I return home next week, and we can review everything. Till then, keep staring at it and wonder what mysteries and secrets it holds! HAHAHAHAHAHHA!

Signed, your loving provider and mistress supreme, Sarah.”

Jeremiah laughed to himself and wiped away a tear. Sarah had always been a little… odd, but she’d always been there for him. What more could he have asked of family?

Now this tiny, plain-looking amulet was all he had left of her. The only reason even that hadn’t been taken from him was because no one knew it existed. He’d been waiting to show it off to his friends until after Sarah unlocked it. There was no telling what the thing actually did; knowing her, it could have been anything for a microcomputer better than anything on the public market, to some kind of prank Holographic display that made him look like a monkey. He didn’t want to think she’d give him something like that for his birthday, but there had been the cake incident on his 12th birthday.

His friends had never let him live that one down… better safe than sorry.

But, of course, Sarah had never returned.

Maybe someone more callous would have considered selling it. After all, despite how plain it looked, it should have still been a piece of B-rank technology, right? It would have been worth something to someone, maybe even enough to get back on his feet.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was the last piece of Sarah he had, and he couldn’t bear to part with it. Not yet. Not until he finished what he had to do.

Silently, he slipped the chain around his neck and let the cool metal of the amulet rest against his chest. Jeremiah slowly drifted off to sleep with the sound of his beating heart in his ears and the icy chill of the amulet against bare skin.

——————

Billy opened his eyes and stared out of his tank. His eyes focused on the nice shrimp man sleeping on his bed. Not that the tiny octopus knew what a tank or bed was. He was smart, but he was only a week old, dang it! Stop expecting so much from him!

The tiny octopus stirred the water as he stretched out his mighty tentacles and slid out of the comfy cave the nice shrimp man had built him. It was still dark out, but that didn’t bother Billy much. His kind could see quite well, even in the dim light. All the better to capture unwitting prey in the murky depths. Like Shrimp! Shrimp was tasty…

Billy shook his head and cleared his mind of food… for now.

He had things he needed to do! Silently, Billy stretched his tentacles up and out of the water, then pulled himself over the bowl’s edge. He plopped down over the edge and landed on the desk before pulling himself along the surface, leaving a water trail as he went. Billy had to be quick about this. He didn’t like it up here in the -air-. It was much too dry for his liking.

Once he reached the edge, he streeeeetched with all his might and just barely grabbed onto the thin cloth sheet covering the thin mattress with a sucker. He then lept the rest of the way and pulled himself onto the shrimp man’s bed. Billy waved his tentacles in the air.

Success!

Celebration cut short, Billy climbed on top of the snoring shrimp man’s chest. The tiny octopus stared down at the sleeping man with large, intelligent eyes for a long moment.

Did he really want to do this?

Uncle Roger had said it was his choice. No one would force him. But the tiny octopus also understood this wasn’t something to take lightly. He might have only been a week old, but the memories and instincts buried deep in his genes told him that once he made this choice, there was no going back.

Billy considered and thought hard.

Memories flashed in his mind of the past few days. Of the shrimp man’s warm smile. The gentle finger that petted his head. Of the stories the man told him while he ate.

Was this really something he wanted to do now? The memories in his genes warned him how humans could be. How fickle and cruel they were sometimes. How even the kindest soul might rot and burn if given the time or reason.

Did he want to take the chance?

Uncle Roger said that if you want to know a person’s true nature, you should look into their eyes. Their eyes would never lie. So what did the shrimp man’s eyes tell him?

Billy remembered the look in the shrimp man’s eyes before they went to bed. How it had burned with fury and rage that scared the tiny creature. Yet, he also remembered the sadness in those same eyes. A deep pain that made the little octopus’s heart hurt, too.

Uncle Roger had given Billy to the shrimp man for a reason, right? Maybe he’d seen those eyes too and thought Billy could help?

Who was Billy to argue with Uncle Roger?

Billy nodded, his decision made.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a quiet light. Dozens of tiny blue rings covered Billy’s body, flickering and casting shadows on the walls. The shadows and light played, dancing in a way that made it appear like the room had been cast into the ocean’s depths.

After a moment, the light dimmed, and the blue rings covering Billy’s body softened until they were only lightly glowing. The ring wiggled around until they split, forming dozens of tiny lines that wiggled and swirled, forming various mystical patterns and shapes. Slowly, some patterns converged on one of his tentacles, and when Billy touched the shrimp man’s chest, then slipped off and onto the human’s skin, like ink moving from page to page.

The glowing patterns swirled and wiggled on the human’s skin before converging just over his heart. The glow lines soon formed into the image of a bright star, eight long beams of light extending from its center. It flashed once, then faded away.

Billy nodded his head and turned to make the daunting trip back to his bowl when a voice cut through the darkness.

Billy froze, fearing he’d been caught, but it didn’t sound like the shrimp man.

//Energy signature detected. Beginning Analysis.//

The pointy metal object sitting on the shrimp man’s chest spoke in a flat, cold, feminine voice before vibrating. The invisible mark on the shrimp man’s heart lit up once more, and some of the blue lines broke off and flew into the metal object.

Billy waved several tentacles in a panic. Wait! It wasn’t supposed to do that!

However, the metal object didn’t care, and it absorbed the blue lights before falling still. Billy slowly stretched out a tentacle to poke it, but before he made contact, the metal object shook, then elongated lengthwise, splitting into several spinning, floating square rings, tethered together at the middle with blue light. Billy pulled back quickly, crawling away and hiding under the thin sheet.

From under the covers, Billy heard it speak. //Analyzing… Electric… Atomic… Mutagenic… Psionic… Cosmic… Ki… Spirit… DING! Energy signature identified; all erroneous signatures discarded… checking user ID… Soul marker recognized… personal Mana signature recorded… Welcome USER: JEREMIAH BRIDGE. Please submit data for your custom System experience.//

//Please submit details.//

//Please submit details…//

//Please submit details…..//

Billy peeked out of the covers and stared at the object just … floating there. Not seeing it do anything more, the tiny creature gathered its courage and slipped out of the covers. He approached slowly and stared. The floating metal energy thief just floated there, repeating the same thing over and over. Did… did it want something?

Billy carefully reached out a tentacle and lightly tapped the metal object. His tentacle made contact, and the object glowed blue. Billy panicked and tried to pull away, only to find he couldn’t move. His tiny heart beat fast; he could only listen as the metal object spoke again.

//Mana signature recognized. Please state your desire; USER: JEREMIAH BRIDGE//

Who was that? Billy was Billy, you glowing meany!

Again it spoke. //Please state your desire.//

Desire? Did it want to know what he wanted? Would… would it let him go if it told the thing?

Billy’s mind wandered to things he wanted. Images of shrimp man cleaning his tank. Of shrimp man giving him tasty shrimp. Of shrimp man playing with Billy and teaching him things. Slowly, the tiny octopus’s beating heart slowed, replaced with a warm feeling that made him happy.

The metal object stopped glowing, and Billy’s tentacle fell away. The metal object then spoke again, //Brainwaves recognized. Compiling Data. ERROR; gathered brain activity is incongruent with records. Data corrupted. Attempting connection to primary servers… Warning! Primary servers compromised. Attempting connection to secondary servers… Warning! compromised…//

//Warning, Trinary servers compromised…//

// Warning, Quaternary servers compromised…//

// Warning, Quinary servers…//

// Warning, Senary…//

// Warning, Septenary…//

// Warning…//

// Warning…//

//….//

//Conditions met. Emergency protocol initiated. Connecting to Transdimensional Backup…connecting… connecting… connection successful. Beginning data debugging… Debugging complete. Beginning Analysis.//

Billy had no idea what it was saying… his head hurt just thinking about most of the words…

The metal object grew quiet for a long time. Long enough that Billy started making his way back to his bowl, having grown sleepy. He’d just reached the desk when the metal object spoke again. //Analysis complete. Custom System Compiling… DING! Compiling complete! Please standby for [Mystic Menagerie] System integration.//

The metal object then spoke in a voice that sounded the same but was far kinder and less flat than it had used so far. “Hey, Jerey… you might want to lie down for this part. This is going to hurt…”

The metal object then clicked shut, returning to its original shape, and fell back to the shrimp man’s chest. Billy stared, wondering if it was finally over. The metal object wiggled for a few seconds before sprouting dozens of metal tentacles of its own.

GASP!

Had it been a friend all along?!

Nothing with that many tentacles could ever be someone bad. Billy raised his own tentacles and waved them. His new best friend waved back.

Billy’s naïve, childlike trust was instantly shattered the next moment, however, as his metal friend’s tentacles stiffened… then plunged into the nice shrimp man’s chest all at once.

——————

For the first time in weeks, Jeremiah had a good dream. He couldn’t remember the details in that strange, dreamlike way, but he remembered Sarah’s voice. It was good to hear it again. He’d started to… forget as time passed, which only worsened his wild mood swings. Hearing her voice again after so long had been like a soothing balm to his soul, even if he knew it was just a dream.

Dream Sarah turned and looked at Jeremiah. He couldn’t remember what she said, but she hugged him warmly, and the young man wept.

Holding him, she gently whispered something that cut through the dream fog.

“Hey, Jerey… you might want to lie down for this part…”

——————

“AHHAAARRRRGGGG!”

Jeremiah woke from the dream, screaming and clawing at his chest.

Ithurtithurtithurtithurt!

The pain overwhelmed all of his other scenes as he felt “something” burrowing its way into his chest. He clawed at the thing but found no grip against the cold, twisting, blood-covered metal. All he could do was writhe and squirm and scream.

After what could have been hours or seconds, the pain stopped suddenly. Time was hard to tell while in that fog of agony. Jeremiah collapsed in his bed, breathing hard, covered in sweat and blood. He lay there for an undeterminable amount of time, the stark contrast between mind-breaking pain and absolute stillness overloading his mind and refusing to let thoughts form.

After a moment, he reached up a shaking, blood-covered hand to touch his chest and felt… metal.

Jeremiah’s heart raced as he shot up in bed, wiping away what blood he could with the stained sheets, and stared down at his chest, gobsmacked. In the middle of his chest, right above his sternum, a small metal rhombus was embedded into his flesh.

His sister’s amulet…

Jeremiah gently poked it a few times, his brain refusing to process what he saw.

After a moment, he whispered into the darkness, “What the hell, Sarah?! What is this thing? What did you do to me?!”

His thoughts were cut off the next moment by a heavy pounding on his door as a deep baritone voice yelled from the other side. “Jeremiah! JEREMIAH! ANSWER ME, LAD!”

Jeremiah scrambled to his feet, wiped as much of the blood away as he could, and rushed to the door as the voice continued. “I’m coming in, boy! You better not be dead on me!”

Jeremiah called out before the man on the other side could break his door down, “I’m coming! Just, just give me a second!”

Jeremiah rushed back to his bed, pulled one of the cleaner sheets off, and wrapped it around himself before running back to the door and throwing it open. Mr. Roger’s giant frame filled his doorway, and if the braced shoulder said anything, he’d, in fact, been only seconds away from breaking down the cheap plywood door.

The large old man paused and turned to look at Jeremiah. The dim hallway lights cast everything in shadow, and Jeremiah could barely make out the dark-skinned man’s deep frown. He placed a hand as big as Jeremiah’s head on the young man’s shoulder and asked in a worried tone. “Boy, are you all right?! I heard the screaming from across the hall. What happened?!”

Jeremiah tried to laugh it off, but his voice broke as it spoke, “It-it was nothing, Mr. Roger, just a bad dream, I promise. Thanks for checking up on me like that. Sorry if I woke you.”

Mr. Roger’s frown deepened, and he asked, “Are you sure, Lad? Those were some mighty loud wails for nothin more than some night terrors.”

Jeremiah nodded and answered, “Yes sir, I’m sure. Again, thanks for checking on me.”

Mr. Roger pulled his hand back and stood straight. The frown never left his face, but he nodded anyway as he spoke. “I see. In that case, I’ll leave you be then. I’m glad to see you’re alright, Jeremiah. Just remember, though, Lad. Whatever brought you here, to this point of your life, you’re one of us now. People of the Outskirts? We’ve got to look after each other, you hear? No one else will. So if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jeremiah opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. He closed it and swallowed before looking down at the floor and nodding. Softly he whispered, “I… I will. Thank you, sir.”

Mr. Roger grinned and turned, waving behind him. “Goodnight, Jeremiah. Try to get some sleep.”

Jeremiah nodded and closed the door.

The young man stood in front of his door for a long moment, then breathed.

He didn’t enjoy lying to Mr. Roger. The man had been nothing but kind to him since he’d arrived. But honestly, what was he going to tell him? That the last piece of rogue technology from his dead sister, who’d been condemned as a powerful villain only a few months prior, had burrowed itself into his body for some unknown reason?

He could already see how that would go. The man would likely insist on taking him to the hospital to get the device examined. The hospital would inform the city, and he would either be arrested for being in possession of “stolen” super tech, or it would be cut out of him and taken away.

Worst-case scenario, maybe they’d say he’d gone “crazy” like his sister, and he’d be put down and dissected. Ya, there was no way he was telling anyone about this until he understood what the hell the amulet had done to him. Or was doing? He didn’t know anymore…

——————

Mr. Roger’s grin slipped as he stared at Jeremiah’s closed door. From down the hall, another door opened, and a middle-aged woman in a nightgown walked out, two small heads peeking out from behind the door beside her.

She called out to him, her voice carrying far in the quiet hallway. “So? What’s the news, David? Is he dead? I told you this would be a bad idea. If someone finds out…”

David “Davey” Roger waved his massive hand back and forth as he answered. “No, no, Martha, false alarm. The Lad just had some night terrors, is all. Nothin’ to worry about.”

The woman, Martha, frowned and narrowed her eyes before sighing and shrugging. She spoke in a tired voice, “If you say so. Never heard nightmares that bad, though. And my youngins jump at tiny bugs. If it’s nothin’, it’s nothin’.”

The youngest child behind the door pointed at Martha and spoke, offended. “Hey! They were not tiny! They were—wait!”.

Martha shooed the children in the door and closed it behind her, cutting off the child.

David turned and made his way to his own apartment. As he did, he raised his hand and stared at the small splotches of fresh blood staining them. The blood sparkled blue for a brief moment, almost undetectable if one didn’t know what to look for. He smiled lightly, then wiped his hands clean on his shirt and opened the door, muttering to the empty hallway.

“Ya… nothin’ to worry about…”

Then walked inside, shutting the door behind him.

——————

It took Jeremiah 20 minutes to clean up the mess, but it got done. No point in sleeping in blood-soaked sheets, after all. He’d spent another 10 minutes staring at himself in the grimy mirror. No matter how long he stared; however, no answers came. Eventually, he cleaned himself off, left the tiny bathroom, and returned to bed.

Walking back to his bed, he noticed movement in Billy’s bowl. Jeremiah turned his attention to the bowl to see the baby octopus staring back at him. Jeremiah smiled and knelt down, placing one finger on the glass as Billy placed a tentacle on the other side.

“Hey there, little guy,” he said, “did I wake you? I’m sorry. How about we head back to bed now, huh?”

Jeremiah squinted his eyes at the tiny creature and frowned. Why did it look like Billy had a fuzzy outline? Was the bowl dirty? He’d just cleaned it, though. He rubbed the glass’s surface, seeing if he’d missed a spot, but the outline persisted. In fact, it seemed to follow Billy as the tiny creature moved. Strange.

Jeremiah rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe something was in them, and when that didn’t work, he focused on the outline, trying to determine what it was he was seeing.

“Woah!” Jeremiah nearly fell backward as something popped into view in front of his eyes.

=================================

Name: Billy

Species: Polaris Kraken (Newborn)

Age: 0 years, 0 months, 1 week, 3 days.

Rank: SS - 0 - 0 - 1

Rarity: Mythical

Pedigree: 8 Stars

Ecology: These mythical creatures, also called the “Heralds of the Guiding Star,” Polaris Krakens, are said to lead wayward ships to safety during harsh storms with no stars visible. Its glowing light, vast power, and gentle nature have made it a deity of protection and an omen of safety and good luck for sailors across millennia.

But woe onto the fool who tempts these gentle giants’ goodwill and kind nature, for even if the creature may forgive, the Sea itself does not take kindly to the mistreatment of one of her favorite children.

As the saying goes, the lost ship abandoned by its guiding star will never find shore again.

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Jeremiah could only stare in shock at the strange white screen in front of him.

“What the hell…”

 


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