Reforging the Blade

[Heuschrecke]

The seventh day brought much of the same as it dawned. Well, as close to 'dawn' as one could get in a nebula aboard an installation that didn't have day and night cycles. Breakfast rested on the table, the smell of some kind of bacon and eggs wafting up from the table. He could never determine if the food he ate was simply food or not but he couldn't complain on the flavours they provided him with. It was odd to have been treated so, too. As a prisoner, Heimirich had expected nothing more than a tiny cell and bare minimum in regards to care. He rather felt that his accommodation here was better than even some apartments he'd spent time in back on New Berlin. For a moment, he wondered why his captors had been so kind to him. Even back then, there was no believing that such a violent and hostile takeover would result in the well-mannered care and attention that was being delivered.

Slipping back to the present, he sighed. Heimirich stood up, falling easily into the routine of the last week aboard Altair. This time was a little different though as there was no masked guide to lead him through the megastructure. He didn't need them, either. The way was as familiar to him as the internals of Fafnir, or his family home back in Rheinland. The only sound that accompanied him was the clatter of his boots and the reflection of that sound back from the walls. His mind wandered, but his step remained true, guiding himself down the corridors without paying too much attention to his surroundings.

He re-joined the circle once more, breathing deeply in anticipation. There was an odd odour about the open dockyard space, a faint detectable scent of decay. He shook his head, as if to shake the disruption to his focus. It lingered, much to his displeasure. A glance around the room told him their time was nearing, each of them had made their way down and taken their respective positions, the rhythmic ripple of their paces dying down one by one.

It's time...

Was the whisper of thought in their minds, before they began. Their voices had changed since the earlier gatherings, becoming more focused, more attuned to one another. Before, the words sounded awkward and forced. Now they had a melody about them, one that resonated both inside themselves and through the room around them. A melody that felt as though it was weaving even time itself, shaping it into something new, guiding a renewed purpose. He smiled inward at this, feeling rewarded for the week's effort as their song flowed. They moved in unison, closer together, akin to one mind and one body with each following one another's movements like a well-rehearsed routine.

As their echoes died down, he felt as though he was being judged. From both within and without. Someone was monitoring. Someone... Or something. He looked around, inspecting the space but saw nothing worthy of note. In the moment he gave up looking his thoughts faltered, giving way to another vision. A vision that began with darkness that was gradually illuminated. Instead of his own, this was another shared memory, one of a restrictive space.

It looked either side, feeling the walls close, listening to the rapid beat of something beyond the seemingly endless tube. There was no indication as to where this vision came from, or the visions purpose but it pressed onwards, forcing itself to continue. Faint, muffled echoes of pained coughs and chokes in the distance, the slight constriction of the channel they were wriggling down the only resistance to their movement. Several moments of the same surroundings melded together, the slow progress being finally met with reward when the tube opened up into a relatively wide chamber.

A momentary pause as it scanned the surroundings, each thought lasting a fleeting nanosecond before another overtook it. Heimirich could not even comprehend the rate the creature could process things, them snapping in and out of existence far faster than he could even glimpse them. It mattered little though, as he saw through the creature's perspective, it applying pressure towards one particular area of the wall that seemed to not give. He felt the pressure of the nudge, though, as the realisation hit this being was inside him. It was a blunt pressure from inside his stomach, almost like how one would expect it to feel if someone was pushing lightly outward from inside. An intent to proceed welled up from it, the singular thought echoing a thousand fold as it opened its face up and lunged forwards, latching into the opposing wall. Immediate pain blossomed, much like the blood that spurted outwards from the contact, the searing pain overriding every feasible thought. He could feel himself convulsing violently, even as he was bearing witness to the creature tearing through the lining of his stomach towards the base of his spine.

It pressed forwards through the wound, brushing against the sensitive nerve-endings within the torn lining. Mute whimpers of pain and discomfort were all Heimirich could manage, still feeling through the memory as though it was the present. Still it burrowed into him, Clearing out a large enough space that it could position itself as needed. The form did so, too, allowing its body to integrate into the wound. Heimirich could not see anything now, the form seeming to reshape itself for its purpose. Every moment remained agony though, even as it closed the wound up through allowing its own cells to interconnect with the ragged tissues, sealing the blood flow in order to ensure he didn't bleed out. It took time, but the torment subsided enough that he could finally think beyond it, and focus a little less on the hurt.

The vision shifted again, revealing the observation of his spine through tendrils. He could see them close in on his central nervous system, and he shuddered in fear. Even though he was experiencing the memory, he felt the form pause, almost as though it knew he would when he was shown what it saw, almost as if this being was reaching through time itself to express its amusement at his situation. Then, as the tendrils made contact, he felt the immediate surge of thoughts in his mind. He couldn't describe the feeling, nor did he want to surmise it himself. The experience was far more breath-taking than anything he could come up with. He could almost see the others nearby, throughout the station. He could feel exactly where he was in relation to them, hear their thoughts as though they were speaking right next to him. It was like being awake for the first time.

The vision faded away and Heimirch found himself laying there on the floor. He wasn't alone. He hadn't been alone once this week, and never would again. Even with the memory gone, he now felt the connection, as though the memory was the key to unlocking it. He was one with whatever had taken him and his crew. What's more, he could feel Fafnir, the gentle hum of the monstrous vessel above him being an echo in his mind. Not only that, but the voices of those that were lost. Each whisper he heard from the carrier brought forth a face of one of the crew, each one he knew to be dead. They were a part of her, bound eternally to the very hull through an amalgamation process he hardly understood. Before he could even process this, a thought intruded on him from the form within:

Kaarst awaits You, Lightbearer.

He knew immediately where to go. He didn't question it nor fight against his new master, rather accepted it. They would use him as he would a tool, direct him as they needed and when, to serve. He knew what awaited him aboard Kaarst. He knew his new purpose. And he knew exactly what he had to do.