Having come to my senses about things, I realized I was starving, seeing as how I threw up all the berries I ate. An interesting thing about those berries is that they actually trigger a sensory effect that makes you want to sit and eat them. They are generally unpalatable in the stomach to most creatures, meaning after you've eaten a few, it eventually forces you to throw up. This helps spread the seeds, which can't survive the digestive process.

  All of this knowledge wasn't something I spent time studying myself; it's just what I was able to learn from the Arc of the berries that I ingested. I looked at the bush of berries now much differently. I knew now those seeds strewn around the base of the tree were from previous victims of the plant's strange allure.

  I thought about these things as I prepared my first day of rations from my pack. I planned to make these rations last as long as possible and take advantage of foods I could gather on my own. But after such a shock with the poisonous berries, I'd rather not take my chances right now.

  I settled against the rough bark of a fallen log and pulled out the humble contents of my meal. It consisted of a single, dense biscuit of hardtack, an unforgiving but reliable staple, and a small, greasy parcel containing a cake of pounded venison and dried berries held together with fat. For a small measure of comfort, I also counted out a few dried apple slices. It was bland and utilitarian, but it was safe, and right now, that was all that mattered.

  When I finished eating, I checked the traps I had set and found them all empty apart from the one that I fixed with Beetle Maple sap. I smiled, pleased at my ingenuity, although I was disappointed still at the result. What sat in my trap was a skunk-like creature. Its fur was primarily black, with bright red spots. It practically screamed “Poisonous, don't touch.”

  While it was entirely possible that the creature's coloration was just a species trait and didn't have any real effect on edibility, I wasn't taking any chances. Yashir had taught me what animals were good to hunt, but I was starting to realize that there's only so much one person can cover. Poking the creature with a stick didn't bolster my confidence at all, and I opted to try my traps again at my next base camp.

  With that, I started my hike again. Throughout the day, the sky gradually darkened and became overcast. A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, and soon, a steady drizzle turned into a downpour. Annoyed at the prospect of drying my gear yet again, I found a small den underneath the base of a large rock. It was a moment of relief, a small victory against the elements.

  Then I felt it—a tremor in the earth, followed by the heavy, stomping tread of something massive.

  “Oh no, please don't be a bear,” was my first frantic thought. I grabbed my cell, Arc humming to life in my palm as I peeked my head out.

  My face drained of all color. It was something like a weasel, but monstrously warped. The creature stood upright, using its thick tail to balance itself like a third leg. Its two front paws, held close to its chest, were tinted a dark, crusty red. My vision continued upwards to see the face of this six-foot-tall weasel, its maw tinted red to match its claws.

  In that instant, the creature’s powerful legs pushed it up into the air, and it came back down in a dive, face-first into the den. My eyes widened as my body reacted quicker than my mind could process. Retracting the energy from my blade, I augmented my body and rolled to the side. My back ended up pressing against the left wall of the den just as the creature crashed into the opposite side with a sickening crunch of rock and bone.

  It shook its massive head, confused and enraged that its prey wasn't there to cushion the impact. In its confusion, I scrambled on my hands and knees out of the den. The rain poured down, and as I channeled my energy back into my blade, I could hear the water hissing as the sporadic-looking blade flickered to life.

  The giant weasel took a moment but finally turned itself around and hissed at me from the mouth of what I now presumed to be its home.

  “Sorry I'm late on my rent, you know I'm good for it though," I quipped, my voice tight with fear, but it didn't even chortle. It pounced forward with a speed I wasn't expecting and jumped at me, this time claws first. They burned with a red energy just like mine. With my blade, I tried to bat them away, but its size was too overwhelming, and its speed was nothing I could match. While I did manage to deflect the claws, the force still sent me to the ground, and I splashed into the mud.

  It growled again, sharp and animalistic, as it tried once again to dive mouth-first. Because of the mud, I struggled to flip myself around, and only just barely did I manage to raise my cell from the mud and thrust upwards. It cut through the creature almost seamlessly before its body, now limp, fell on top of me. I groaned from the weight, thanking Yashir for teaching me how to augment my body with Arc.

  I could smell parts of its flesh cooking from the sheer heat of my blade, and I could see flickers of its displaced energy dancing in the air. With the mud and the giant dead creature laying on me, it took a little bit of effort to get myself out from underneath it. Now I could see it properly, at least for the most part. I pulled my Cell from the mud; the thing was caked and dirty, but it saved my life. I clipped it back to my waist after wiping it off as best I could with my equally dirty tunic.

  Its jaw, all the way down to its chest, was sliced cleanly down the middle. With such an opening already, I just reached inside and grabbed its arc core, not even needing my knife.

  It wasn't a second after I grabbed the core that I felt something tear into my shoulder and I splashed back down into the mud, a white-hot agony blinding me.

  Panicked, I tried to grab my cell, but my arm wouldn't budge, and the pain was too distracting. Not able to grab it, I started augmenting myself. While I was still trying to direct the energy from my core, I felt another searing pain in my leg. Whatever was attacking pulled me through the mud. I tried to hold on to the weasel corpse before it lifted my body from the mud by jerking my leg, before flinging me into a tree.

  My augmented body helped me endure the impact, but the pressure was painful enough. Dazed and in pain, I saw an even bigger-looking weasel growling at me. My heart stopped. It was another weasel, but this one was even bigger, its fur a shade darker, its muscles thicker. And its claws, still dripping with my blood, glowed with the unmistakable, furious light of an Orange core. It stared past me, at the dead creature on the ground, and let out a sound that wasn't a growl of hunger, but a roar of pure, unadulterated grief. I hadn't just killed a monster. I had killed its child.

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  I looked down at my side, a wave of nausea rolling through me. It fortunately hadn't damaged any vital organs, but that caveat seemed insignificant. My arm took the brunt of the damage; it hung limply, but my primary saving grace was that the heat of its Arc energy seemed to have cauterized my arm as it cut, so I wasn't losing any blood while I sat there. I focused on getting my breath back. My attacker seemed now more occupied with mourning its child. It shuffled over to its body, nudging it with its snout almost as if to try and coax it to get up.

  I could feel the energy radiating off the creature, and then a vibrant orange energy started to fill its child. It was trying to resuscitate it. Since I'd already removed its core, I realized it wasn't going to work. But the mother didn't seem to understand that. I watched quietly as the mother weasel spent its time trying everything it could. My heart sank as the creature quickly exhausted itself. I watched its footing slip on the mud before it staggered. It got back up for a moment, its breath wracked as it started trying again, before it finally staggered, falling and not getting back up.

  I cried, feeling all too guilty for making such a creature so miserable. But at the same time, I knew it wasn't my fault. It was my life or theirs. I was lucky; I hadn't been able to get up for some time now. If the mother weasel had decided to attack me again and not focus its efforts on its child, I would've died for sure. Having spent the past hour trying to recover, I finally forced myself up. My right leg protested as I started walking.

  I used my left arm to draw my Cell and illuminated its fierce blade with my energy. The mother weasel looked up at me and growled with a sharp hiss. It tried to claw at the ground and push itself up, but it just fell back down with ragged, exhausted breaths. I bit the inside of my mouth as it looked up at me with a bitter hatred. It grunted in pain before it closed its eyes; it seemed as if it was resigned and accepting the situation. In one swift motion, the creature laid limp at my feet. I let out a sigh as I dropped to my knees.

  I wept for the lives I had taken and for the one I still clung to. They were just animals, and I had grown accustomed to the hunt, to taking life so that I might live. This was different. I never intended to fight them, yet in a blur of instinct and desperation, I was forced to. A wry, sorrowful smile touched my lips as I reached out, my hand stroking the mother’s damp fur.

  “I hope one day I can fight for what I love with half your courage,” I whispered. “You were brave.”

  Collecting their cores was a grim task made clumsy and slow by my injuries. The red one had rolled beneath a thorny bush, scratching my arm as I retrieved it. Freeing the orange core from the mother’s corpse was a delicate, painstaking process with only one good arm and leg. It felt profane.

  Back in the shelter, the newly stoked fire crackled, its warmth a small comfort. I sat before it, watching the flames lick at my drying clothes, the two cores resting on the stone floor beside me. It always amazed me how they seemed to repel any dirt or blood, gleaming pristine in the firelight.

  “Let’s start with you,” I murmured, picking up the medium-sized red core. As I channeled my own energy, probing its surface, a torrent of chaotic energy met me. Gently, I tugged, and it rushed into my channels. The sensation of red energy was never satisfying; it was like eating unripened fruit—tart and sour, with only a hint of sweetness promising what it could have been. As the foreign energy merged with my own red core, I felt its density thicken, spreading a familiar warmth through my chest.

  Then, my Gift of understanding awakened. It bloomed in my mind like the warm buzz of a strong drink, forcing my eyes shut. The den dissolved, and I was somewhere else entirely.

  I was… small. Nuzzled into the immense warmth of my mother’s belly, her muzzle pressed gently against my side, urging me to wake. Walking on four paws was still a clumsy affair. At three months old, I was big for my age, but my legs often tangled when I tried to run, sending me tumbling to the forest floor. Mom never helped me up; she simply waited. As we roamed, a delicious scent snagged my attention. I bounded toward it, Mom close behind. A small, black, squirrel-like creature with pretty red spots was caught in a snare, already dead. Mom was pleased with our find, and we ate until our bellies were full. Something sticky clung to my snout, and she licked it clean.

  The scent of rain urged us home. Feeling confident, I challenged Mom to a race, and she let me win, trailing slowly behind. But when I reached the den, a strange creature was inside. Anger flared, hot and sharp. I lunged, but it dodged. It made a strange, high-pitched noise that only stoked my fury. I would not let it escape. I gathered myself, I pounced, and before I knew it…

  My eyes snapped open, a gasp tearing from my throat. My body was drenched in sweat, my hands empty. The core had dissolved, its energy returned to the world, leaving only its story behind.

  “That…” I trailed off, the word “sucked” feeling too small for the experience. My gaze drifted to the orange core, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. I might have to live through that all over again.

  Taking a deep breath, I began to integrate the mother’s core. The taste of this energy was less bitter, more bland, like water. Yet, the warmth it radiated was just as potent. It spread through my chest, then surged outward, flooding my limbs with a tingling heat. I looked down at my shoulder in disbelief. The puckered, blackened flesh of the cauterized wound writhed, knitting itself closed before my eyes, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. The deep gash in my leg healed in moments.

  “Another thing that’s not supposed to be possible,” I thought aloud, feeling like a walking contradiction. My analytical mind tried to grasp the logic, but the warm, buzzing feeling returned, stronger this time.

  My eyes slammed shut. I was in searing pain. A small weasel whimpered beneath me, and my every instinct screamed to protect him, to shield him with my body. Another weasel, the father, would often leave food for us, though he rarely showed himself. I felt a deep appreciation for him, a quiet pride in our shared son.

  My son grew so big, so fast. We were a team. Today, he was full of energy and ran off ahead. I was content to watch him go, my own movements slowed by a recent meal and my advancing age. Then, a burst of foreign energy flared up ahead. Panic, cold and sharp, seized me as the rain began to fall. I raced forward, wrapping myself in my Gift of Concealment. As I neared our home, I saw him—my son—lying still on the ground, and some creature was… touching him.

  Fear and fury became one. I channeled my energy into my claws and lunged, swiping the creature to the ground. It shrieked in pain. Good. It reached for my son again, and I bit its leg, tasting blood. I jerked my head, flinging the creature through the air. It slammed into a tree and slid to the ground, lifeless. I had killed it.

  I turned to my son, a sound of pure grief tearing from my throat. He couldn't be dead. I could save him. I channeled my energy, pushing it into his small body, again and again, but it was no use. I was drained, so tired I couldn’t lift my head. I would rather die here with him than live without him. The creature, the one that did this, was stirring. It stood over me, looking… pitiful. I growled, wanting to tear it apart, but I had no strength left. This was it. I closed my eyes, and I waited for the end.

  Again, my eyes flew open. The den was illuminated by a vibrant orange light emanating from my own body, pulsing with a life that was not entirely my own before it faded. The experience left a hollow ache in my soul. I was whole, healed, and more powerful than before. But as I leaned back against the cool stone, utterly drained, I was left with the heavy, undeniable weight of the life—and the love—I had just consumed. I was too tired to think, too heavy to move. Sleep took me.