Leaving the World that you silently called the 'Citadel' as that seemed to be where the 'core' of the World lay. Not the Heart, perhaps, but somewhere important.

You decided to on what to do now.

You remembered that doctor guy on Taris needing more of those Green Herbs. So that meant going back to the world of the undead. You focused and the dark corridor was stable. You were getting better at this.

You stepped out and frowned.

You... should have gone back to Raccoon City. This didn't look like Raccoon City.

A massive wasteland of ruinous metal husks and air that would have burned a human throat. You turned slowly, seeing the barely visible sign sticking out of the ground.

'We...me...Raco...ity!'

You looked to see that even some of the mountain ranges in the distance looked raw from the heat.

There would be no green herbs around here.

You let your mind go quiet, listening. Sometimes, the World could be chatty... or pushy, depending on what it needed. You could see where it was focusing on... or go your own way.

Well, no reason to ignore such an urging.

You opened a portal and stepped through.

And you were hit with a massive wall of cold and snow.

You felt a snowdrift already stacking up against your noodly form.

"Well. I at least have a coat ready for if I need to take someone to another world this time around," you said and walked forward to a massive dome structure with a cargo plane sticking out it as if the thing had been flown by an idiot.

You simply slithered inside through the hole the plane made already and emerged inside unscathed. Physics wept at your approach. Your pity for it was only as large as your current hat. If this place was like Raccoon City then you best get something to defend yourself with.

You shifted into Sharpshooter, your gloves form shortly before your new cross belts, flashing the bullseye belt buckle last. You were beginning to look like a dashing rogue. In each hand, a gun formed briefly before they both disappeared into jagged silver lines.

You were ready.

-

The first hurdle came not long after. This place was twisty and covered in frost.

Yet, despite the cold. Three massive moths feasting off corpses cocooned to the metal walls were having the time of their life. Focusing, a bow formed in your hand. Its shape had slightly changed since you voided its warranty.

It was now the pale silver of a rising moon. The bow itself was now like two blades stuck together. The string now a tiny thrum of energy instead of a string. Two of the moths were equally close, but the last was down the hall to an extent.

Moth A/B medium range
Moth C long-range.

You took aim and the bow thrummed as an arrow formed out of thin air.

Era's accuracy total: 35+18 = 53
Moth dodge: 8+11(speed: 6+5 from passive) = 19

The arrow flew clean through the moth's centre, causing hissing blood to land across the walls and floor. The bow paused as if considered the creature then went dull as if dismissing them as prey.

That was... both strange and unfortunate.

Infected Moth A: 103

The moth at the back had the best view of you in the chaos and shot forward.

Speed needed to close distance from long to close. +80.

It was fast, bending itself through space with unnatural instincts.

Its face was had a single long proboscis looked caked in dried blood. It jabbed at you with malicious glee.

It was on you, its visage like a looming demon, making shrieking noises that seemed too unnatural, even for this world. This moth had tasted blood and it wanted for whatever passed for it in your own shell.

It would drain nothing if to do nothing more than inflicting pain.

The needle went through your torso as you turned, forgetting you had a bow and it smacking into a wall, spinning you right into the spearing lance.

Era hp: 1412

If you could feel annoyed? You'd be so far past that you'd be into the apocalyptic stage. Instead, you calmly turned your Dishonored Armament into the moth's face. It must have some... intelligence because it made a low shrill noise.

Distress.

Emotions? How cute.

"Don't know why I don't start with my old friend first. He's great at starting things off with a bang," you promised and fired. There was a massive roar of force.

Only, the moth flittered under the gun, seeming to delight in your disbelief as you completely missed. It seemed to be shifting slightly, evolving due to the fight.

Moth C has become Demonic Moth. +1 to all its rolls and damage is increased by one.

You didn't exactly have a lot of time to consider why moths were so dangerous as the other two moths flew at you.

The injured one was slow and heavily wounded... making it sluggish.

Moth A under 50% HP. All bonuses halved.

The next lance came from the injured moth followed by the unassuming one.

Both moths manage to land their suckers on you and you struggled to get the devil on off your face. They were trying to pump something into you, but it just fell out of the holes they made having no flesh to infect.

Total damage: 2.
HP: 1210

The demon moth went for you again, but you slithered, moving around two of the moths and up against the ceiling, coiled like a spring. The moths seemed confused, lacking the ability to look directly up.

Shame.

You moved, slapping the demon moth as if it were the pest it should have been. The butt of your gun cracked loudly on it, using the confusion to inflict a free hit.

Demothic: 118

You learned something about this. Insects weren't animals.

They were demonic spawn that you would end with fire and brimstone.

Gained: Insect-Eraditctor: +2 damage to all insect-based creatures or hybrids.

Repeated Lament formed and you took aim. Three bullets forming. Two went for the Demoth, but it was swift, dashing down the hole and out of harm.

The third bullet exploded the wounded moth, spraying its green blood violently.

Demothic and the last Moth turned and rushed you again. Their wing flaps a buzz that was becoming agitating.

You turned to dodge, but where you rolled had you bursting through was a side door to some off-hand bunk room.

A new moth that had been sucking some mummified soldier on a bed turned to see what the noise was about. It must have seen the Moth you dubbed as 'Bee' piercing your back and you scrambling to get into position.

Moth D has joined the fight!

Era HP: 108

Before you could decide what to do, the demon moth was upon you, stabbing as well.

Their feeder curled around your neck, enjoying the way you tried to struggle. The Demothic was enjoying your pain... feeding it off like it it knew... and enjoyed the idea.

Demothic rolled a 66.
Then its mouth bubbled, growing a tiny second little sucker. Not yet long enough to do damage, but it was growing alarmingly fast. It's stab was becoming familiar and you weren't sure that was a good thing.

You slipped out of its grasp with effort and got some distance, facing three flapping moths, lead by the defiler.

You had quite enough... you dispersed your gun and shifted to your bucket-head warrior form. Under your feet, cracks began to appear as if gravity was having issues with your rise in power. You reach deep, reaching for a form you had yet to use.

A glowing aura began to surround you.

"..." you stared as the moths hesitated. You felt... like it was easier to show these things what they had angered. Words were... pointless, one could say. There was a shudder that seemed to hit the walls, the ice... the air.

-

Deep underground, a naked blond woman holding a dead man that was her twin frowned as she felt the facility shake... not from her own power.

-

You stared down at the moths. You flexed slightly... trying to get a feel for this new shape. You were easily 6'5 and you flexed your fingers... you had fingers.

You stared down at proper feet.

You inhaled, scents coming so sharp. Death, decay, and metal.

You had hair. In the nearby mirror, cracked from damage, a face stared back. Of course... that face.

Lexaeus' darkness, or his memories... or whatever piece had granted you his power and since hearts and all that was familiar to it sought to remember its shape... your own had morphed.

But there were two things very clear at this moment. One, time was short and it would not hold for long. There was no... consciousness driving into yours. It was an absent silhouette that lingered in your form.

The second was how clear you were from fully tapping into this form. So much power laid out of your grasp... so much power to crush mountains and rearrange the earth with a single strike.

You were so far from that, but not locked out from it.

You swung the massive sword that formed in your hand. It was Lexaeus' weapon but... again, it was a mirage at best. Your real weapon laid underneath.

You were slow, the moths fluttering around you, but even all together, their suckers didn't even break your skin now.

Not even Demothic could touch you now. You didn't even try to dodge. It felt... amazing.

It felt...

It... felt.

Oh.

That was an emotion. It filled your veins with purpose... a warmth that made you want to bask in it. It was so strong you almost dropped the form in shock. You swung again for the Demothic again, just letting this false-heart you were experiencing to take hold.

It was too fast and you ended up crushing bunks in your haste.

They tried to go for your eyes, but you just blinked them away. You were tough, bt these things were becoming a pain.

Still, there was light. Demothic was slowing. Its evolution of strength and mouth had depleted whatever food it had managed to get in this frozen base. Not that it slowed too much down to let you hit it.

It's little legs were beginning to bubble again... growing claw-like grips.

Demothic rolled a 66. Demothic learned a new ability.

The power of your new form was fading fast... you needed to hit this thing now. You swung, cutting the moth head-on, even as its body tried to cracks its shell to form something else.

Demothic rolled a 66 on dodge...

The sword dug into the moth and exploded with a sonic blast that turned into a leaking husk on the floor that was twitching.

Damage: 12
Demothic: 80?

The thing twitched as if trying to do something... then just melted. Conceding the fight. The other two moths took off through the door, feeling primal fear at your victory.

The moth goop on the floor shifted and something was left as it evaporated.

A little moth trapped in amber attached to a chain.

You gingerly picked it up, waiting for it to attack you. It didn't.

Demothic Amber: +1 speed and +1 hp recovered whenever a 66 is rolled.

"You better not hatch into something I have to kill. I've grown to be rather displeased with insects," you muttered and pocketed the accessory. You looked over the bunkroom and saw that despite everything being torn up, a collection of green, yellow and a single red herb was in a little store supply room.

The moths clearly avoided them for some reasons.

Allergic?

You snatched them. Three green herbs, two yellow, and a single red.

X3 green herbs. Heals 10.
X2 yellow herb. Effects unknown.
X1 Red. Doubles healing potential of items when mixed with healing items. Class needed: Alchemist... ?

Finally...

1 moth defeated: 9 exp.
Demothic defeated: 25 exp.