Chapter 11

  Five-year-old William had no idea what Walkers could do, or what the world had to endure for them. He wasn't pampered. Contrary to that idea, he had struggles behind him, forgotten, and worse, or he didn't think of them anymore.

  Like a sunflower that was calling for the sun, William emerged like a treasure before this Carnijaw. Tendrils felt strong, pushy, and wet. William felt sick and Carnijaw was unwilling to deal the killing blow no matter what it tried to do. It felt its callings, even though it was laboring to stop and move.

  Perhaps it couldn't do it, or something in it couldn't step forward.

  Something broke at this moment. The buzzing noises in William's mind collided with such force that Carnjiaw jerked away and every one of its tendrils became shocked and fearful. A crimson storm wavered like light peaking from the horizon. Half sizzling to ashes and dust, something visibly changed and echoed in a sharp noise; like a whip clashing against the air.

  Carnijaw hissed, smiling in delight as it felt something extremely gratifying and delightful.

  Half in the air and falling, William heard no buzzing anymore. What remained was a heat all over his right arm as if he was aflame. Around him swirled a huffed crimson line, breaking between its prison and the fearful softness of reality.

  William yelled because of the pain and he began to shake. He wasn't in flames, obvious by that line coming from his Emblem, which was forever close to him. However, it was itching to snap further. It drilled. It hurt. The noises didn't disappear forever. There was a distorted noise next. The one that William never met.

  At first, it was a mash of voices, raspy, savage, and deep. They weren't fit for any language or grunts. But William swore it was a voice filled with words, no matter how foreign, alien, or straight-up gibberish it talked.

  Then, it turned crisper, until one single voice clearer up and spoke in some manners of long forced wisdom.

  [Target’s beginner phase has been fulfilled]

  [The energy and range is adequate, though still not perfected]

  [There is an invalid... targets?]

  [Individuality has been seized a while back. Age restrictions are not met! Reprocessing...]

  [Code...]

  [The Anarchy Code has been initiated!]

  [Time: 164,096,150 ticks]

  [??? is waiting but the target is not]

  [Fulfilled Marks: none]

  [Danger of going rampant: Grade D]

  [Potencial loss: brief and chance remains]

  [Code Zero is accepted]

  [The regulations are temporarily lifted. Time and flow have to revolve]

  Then, the voice kept repeating zero and zero, continuing shouting and increasing the pain and heat and beats, until it was repeating Rs, Es, and Os.

  Stop... Stop... Mom! William huffed and wept, watching the sight before him in a new light as he fell. The pain, clutter of something foreign mixed with crimson, and his vision and mind shook.

  The pain subsided, and the world turned entirely red. There was no darkness. There was no light. All hues and colors changed. He saw many combinations of red and felt sick. Even the Dark Fog seemed like regular fog, looking like morning sunshine over the mist or clouds that looked red. He didn't like them. He kind of saw them, but something about them was absolutely wrong.

  It wasn't right.

  Carnijaw looked the same, and its crimson features were even more menacing than before because of a weird aura swirling around it like a flame. Its eyes, mouth, and remaining blood around it glowed in velvet shine.

  Reaching the ground turned into a journey. William had his head free yet his Emblem was crazy. His right arm hung and bled in cracks between flesh and bones and skin of his Emblem and arm. A deep crimson line was around him, shining and looking like a snake rampaging for its skin.

  And right then, his Emblem snapped.

  He didn't fall for long. Crimson whip snapped at incoming tendrils, penetrating and sizzling them to smoke and dust. It wasn't flame, but eradication, annihilation, and complete disintegration akin to the tinniest units of particles until the wind pushed them to dust, or to the void. It was hard to tell what was right or wrong, though William's crimson-looking eyes kept watching this in disbelief.

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  He didn't turn time wrong. He wasn't doing a thing like before.

  Returning to his fall, Carnijaw was no longer happy. It howled in terror and anger as if this boy mindlessly killed its entire clan.

  William fell to blood and gore from dozens of feet, ending in a bunch of trashcans that softened his fall. It was kind of soft, albeit the remains of those people weren't worthless.

  William felt wrong. He couldn't decide how worse it could get... or right. He was still dreading that tone, but that voice and buzzing, and that... redness. What was he watching? What was this sizzling and pushing force that drove his right arm forward? He couldn't see his head or eyes, nor the throbbing acts of his Emblem that was visibly changing. Well, he could see his arm, but he didn't dare to look.

  It was searing, making veins around his right arm pop, snap, and stretch. He had no time for that.

  Right upon his landing, he looked around and noticed the crimson end of a strange line pointing to his face. It was no snake. There was no sunshine. It was more like a flickering finger consisting of a soft mist, resembling lines and rays going mad inside of it. It was more like a long quarter-inch-thick storm.

  His hand felt heavy and scorching. It hurt more than ever before, yet moving it was easy. It was illogical.

  When the pain spreads, a person's mind and body usually fight back and try to rest, fix it, or pass it as a danger by going to sleep. Here? The pain was coming from his mind, and he could distinguish it from the hand and something else. He had no time to wait The nightmare was right there, roaring above him.

  Run.

  Hide.

  Two words from his mother jolted his mind and he did the first since it was the first one that came to his mind. It was a rather easy and simple decision, as expected of a child.

  Darks didn't care for fairness. Meat and hunts wouldn't happen on their own.

  They weren't prideful, though some could be strange in battles and some hunts, so some bare-bone pride was an interesting topic. They were predators with clever albeit unnatural instincts. The Corruption was very wrong and manifesting purpose. It wasn't easy to quench its point, let alone ignore it when fallen right into its abyss. Huffed, taken, lost. It was a point of no return.

  William's journey became worse right from the start. He stumbled to the ground because of something in the way.

  Ahead of him were corpses and sizzling Darks that left a mash of oddly shaped crimson dots and haze behind. He crawled to his feet, wet and bloody, while the world kept being red everywhere.

  Then, he ran. Ran like he had never moved his legs in his life.

  Heat spread and gave him strength. Red colors felt as if he was in a different picture, and the sizzling notes from his Emblem captured his attention like flesh when the line passed through the air and seized every second. It snapped at the red dots which were nothing but dark blobs in the normal sight.

  Like in a book or some heroic comic William had read a few times due to his father, he became a hero and watched the world in a new light.

  Just as he approached the end of this alleyway, Carnijaw's jaw, the real jaw, attacked, swallowing the trashcans, concrete walls, bones, and gore into its ridiculously enlarged jaw. It spat most of it out afterward, enraged, and hardly happy because of this tight corridor. Carnijaw cried in annoyance; losing even a portion of its tendrils to a weak prey felt humiliating and its instincts felt like cracking in utter shock.

  The change of order happened. A new threat was born and its instincts were no longer so nice to let some curiosity hinder its path.

  Its frustration turned even worse when it realized it hadn't bit any of its expected bliss. William dodged the jaw within a few steps of his simple run.

  Carnijaw stomped, angling and forcing its arms for legs against the walls. It barely fit into this alley, so it seemed stuck. Not for long; it obliterated the walls to pieces and rubble. It moved its limbs onwards, jerking its movement and head that had a hideous smile and glowing eyes. Its tendrils darted around as well, helping with destruction and looking for its target.

  Dust and its anger made everything harder; so it failed to see William, who turned around the corner, disappearing into the street of this broken camp.

  There were many streets. Thousands of people used to live here, even if such numbers could provoke some Rifts and Darks. Walkers were stationed here for these things to not matter. However, Rifts alone were a far cry from Incursions.

  In numbers, there was some strength. Darks knew it by heart. Walkers tried the same thing and protected humanity.

  The reality was much more sinister.

  Carnage was everywhere when William strode around the street and looked around. His sight made everything dull yet vivid in red hues. It was duller and weirder since everything looked similar; be it corpses, deaths, or Darks, he wasn't as frightened.

  When he didn't look further, it appeared as if he was dreaming and everything moved smoothly, his body included.

  More blood followed, growing and becoming one with the soil. Corpses and gnawing beast-like Darks were everywhere, looking like wolves, humans, tigers, or nothing alike. There were so many ominous and grotesque things in Corruption, that it changed the natural hierarchy of evolutions.

  Numerous eyes, tendrils, and bizarre edges were some of the most common Dark Aspects, whose human evaluations valued danger of every Rank of Darks. Walkers gave it some attention, but the System was not as sporadic. It wasn't clever to see all Aspects the same. Some were better than others, similar to Walkers whose Emblem had many flavours.