I'm finally back! I managed to wade through two chapters of pure conversation I had to completely write by myself!
Now I can finally write the easy chapters- battles and skirmishes are much easier because I know what's going to happen.
Uploads will continue to be slow until I finally get back inot the flow, but that'll be better than the six month of me dragging my ass working on one chapter.
Alex had done a lot of -from the viewpoint of survival- questionable things. Chief amongst them his head-on assault of the Bloodtox factory for the maybe chance of getting close to McMullen.
Running with an active nuclear warhead was another one.
Fighting in close combat with a Demon made of fire was his most recent.
He should have kept throwing stuff at the thing, not himself. Yet here he was, hurtling down a deep pit while attached to a Demon that was made of fire.
But that was what he decided, wasn't it? The moment he realized they couldn't escape this thing, the moment Gandalf tried to stay behind and tackle it was the moment he knew it had to die.
So he switched places with the Wizard and body-checked the Balrog off the narrow bridge, taking himself with it. The sheer endless drop wasn't too much of a problem- he could fall from any height and be fine at impact- the fire was.
Now Alex could withstand a burning building or burning vehicles for extended periods of time, but this thing was burning differently. Not hotter, not like a Thermobaric Shell, but...more relentless? Flames that ate through his Biomass at a steady pace no matter how dense it was- not enough to instantly kill him, but it hurt throughout his entire body.
(The Morgul Blade had felt the same)
Logically, he should disengage and escape, let this bastard impact on the ground somewhere beneath and be done with it.
But...he couldn't. He couldn't disengage, because every instinct inside of him screamed at him to erase the threat now.
So it wouldn't be a threat at a later point.
And...maybe he was a little bit interested to see why it terrified Gandalf, why it was feared by the Orcs even when they had never fought it like they fought him. Wanted to see how this thing worked- it was on fire, after all.
Most of all, he wanted to see whether he could actually kill it. Because it pissed him off. This had been the first time he'd been able to cut loose- really cut loose and just slaughter his way through the hosts of his enemy, when this thing appeared and he had to run.
He was having fun, damnit.
So Alex grit his teeth against the pain, shifted to Musclemass, reeled his arm back and punched the Demon right into its face with so much force, he sent it careening off to the side and slamming into the rough wall. The brief change in its momentum slowed it down so he found himself in free fall beneath it, though that was hardly a problem to him: He air-dashed to the side to hit the cliff and dug in his paws. His opponent flailed roaring past him, and Alex immediately kicked off the wall to slam his body into its chest again.
The new impulse sent the Balrog cartwheeling head-over-heels, increasing its momentum so when it crashed into a protruding ledge, the rock crumbled to dust under the impact.
The Demon wailed and tried righting itself, but the pit was too narrow for it to spread its wings- not that it would have done anything, since it didn't have any membranes connecting its bones- and it was falling entirely too fast to try and snatch a ledge instead of crushing through them.
Above it and in a similar free fall, Alex grinned in dark satisfaction.
Good. Let this thing feel fear before he would take it apart piece by piece.
He kicked off the air again, curling up into a tight ball to slam himself into the flaming back of the creature. Instantly fire latched onto his mass and turned it to ashes, but that was a small price to pay for the reward of the shriek the creature made.
Also it felt exhilarating to have a real air combat. Normally he'd need a helicopter at least and usually only went for throwing stuff or himself at flying enemies- and this time he was actually fighting his opponent without touching the ground.
Would be fun to swoop down and rip a gunship apart without them seeing him coming.
Though that's a thought for later, once he was out of Moria and out of Middle-Earth. For now, he still had the matters of the Demon to consider. If he could just snuff its flames he could also try and consume it. A little treat for losing that much of Biomass.
He'd hoped the air rush caused by their velocity would've been enough to extinguish the blaze, yet the thing was still burning.
Maybe the impact would be enough, or maybe he could just...smother it with soil once they reached the bottom?
He disengaged and hopped upwards to avoid a flaming claw coming for his head. Still falling through the trail of embers and smoke, Alex snorted briefly. The next second, red static burst from his body as he thrust himself back downwards and into the Demon's chest. He felt more like he heard the crack as something gave, and the monster wailed again.
The narrow walls suddenly opened into a huge cavern, and Alex had a split second to glance around and see fire below-
No. Not fire.
Reflection of fire.
They were hurtling towards a large pool of water.
Perfect
Alex instantly shifted his form, removing his excess amount of muscles to shape the Biomass into something he hadn't had in Manhattan. Something he'd only had since two days at most, and didn't get the chance to test it out.
In the water, it would give him the upper hand.
Or upper Tendril if you wanted.
His arms shifted into thick coiled strands of Biomass that terminated in three-fingered hands. Then he kicked off against the air to throw himself back into the Balrog, his arms unraveling into thick tentacles like the squid thing used to have.
And Alex used them just like the squid thing- snatching up and restraining the Balrog's limbs and forcing its body into a flat position. The Demon struggled roaring, and flames ate away at his tendrils. Scorching them and trying to burn through- something that would have happened if the fall had been any longer.
As it was, the Balrog hit the pool of water with the force of a warhead- and water from any height over thirty feet was like concrete. Its spine made an ungodly sound, and its cry was immediately suffocated by the mighty splash. Water sprayed into every direction and formed a depression, shortly before it slapped together above them as they sank into the depths of the pool.
The Demon's flames sputtered and died, which was when Alex went in for the kill.
His Tendrils tightened their hold now that the fire didn't destroy them anymore, allowing Alex to draw his insides together into an impossible concentrated ball.
This was going to hurt him.
It was going to hurt the Balrog a lot more.
The very second the pressure spiked past endurable levels, Alex let it go in a single concentrated blast. His Biomass wailed as it was torn apart, as it was forced into steel-like lances that shot from his core straight to the front and into the Balrog's body.
Alex would recover, even from the attack he wrenched from his body despite the flames having severely weakened him.
His target...not so much.
The Critical Pain Devastator slammed through the Balrog's chest like it wasn't there in the first place, locking Runner and Demon together for a brief moment until the tendrils pulled back to leave behind a gaping hole.
The tight hold of his limbs didn't slacken when the Demon's struggles weakened immediately and eventually ceased completely.
Alex regarded the creature in his hold coldly. It didn't show any signs of life- but it hadn't before either. His tentacles couldn't taste anything to consume either- it was like it was ash given a shape- though it had had a shape. With Head and Legs and Arms, so it must have had some form of organization.
Blacklight surged to the front and Musclemass-enhanced paws grabbed the Demon's head, while his Tendrils began to pull into different directions.
"Let's see you come back from this", Alex hissed and he pulled.
Yanking apart the body beneath him, tearing it limb from limb and releasing them into the deep dark of the pond. He kept the head in his possession, watched the remaining pieces of the carcass sink out of sight before he turned and kicked against the water to propel himself back upwards.
Breaking the surface...was a mistake.
Because the moment the numbing cold water was no longer enveloping his body the burned Biomass began to flare up with pain. And not just any pain- it felt like the Parasite all over again while he was submerged in Bloodtox.
And probably set on fire.
The moment he managed to reach the edge of the pool, he slumped against the wet ground with a groan. That was fine. He would just stay there, rest a little, and wait for his body to finish repairing what could be repaired and discard what couldn't. This wasn't his first tango with these kind of injuries.
But even the cold stone beneath him couldn't stop the hurting, so Alex gathered all his strength to weakly flop over on his back. It had been burned far less than his front so he could avoid damaging himself any more.
He wondered a little what he was looking like at the moment- from the feeling of cold air brushing things inside his chest that should not have contact with air, he figured he's more of scorched bones than imitated flesh right now. Which honestly wasn't too new- his first tussle with a Leader Hunter had led to similar results- but in combination with the burns it was an entirely new layer of Hell.
So Alex just lied there, staring at the dark ceiling high above and trying to breathe through the agony lacing up his spine. If the fall had taken any longer, or if they hadn't hit water at the end, he would be a lot worse now. Because then there would have been nothing that would have doused the flames.
He should have disengaged the moment he'd knocked the Demon off the Bridge. Should have escaped. Should have let this thing hit the water on its own, and just leave the place behind.
That wouldn't have solved the problem, however.
We burn our own to hold the Line. It is the last Line to ever hold
Alex's lips twitched into a grim smile. Yeah, Blackwatch. What he'd give to be back in Manhattan. There he could be hiding, there he could be with Dana or Ragland, or hunt a few Infected to fix himself (had helped when he'd gotten too close to one of the Thermobaric Tanks)
...Man, he hoped that the Fellowship's managed to escape. It would suck if they'd gotten ambushed after he heroically sacrificed himself to get them out in the first place. Maybe he should get up, see how they are doing.
But, ah. Lying on the ground felt much more comfortable than trying to run up the pit he just dropped through.
How far did they fall, anyways?
He tried to remember- it took six seconds to fall off the Empire State Building. If he pulled his limbs close it were more like five. Never less.
This drop had been significantly longer. Three times that? Maybe four? So he was very deep down, and he didn't really feel like trying to climb. He was too damn tired at the moment- a nap sounded nice right about now.
The next moment Alex awoke to a Goblin leaned over him.
Without thinking, he threw his arm upwards and snatched the Goblin's throat. His feeding tendrils skittered beneath his skin, but only a third of them actually worked- the rest was too burned. Which meant that there wasn't enough contact to consume his victim fast- it dragged out for several seconds instead of taking just a moment.
But that didn't matter because while the little guy was hardly enough to fix him, it was more than enough to energize his system and get him to rise on his feet.
And there were a few more Goblins nearby. None of which stood a chance of either attacking or escaping once he got moving again.
They weren't enough to heal him back up, but they were enough to fix the damage the flames had done. His ribcage was back in one piece and covered by his imitation of skin and clothes. His legs and arms fully repaired, even his face- which he was sure had been smoldering ruins before- had been fixed.
But he wasn't full yet. Wouldn't be full for ten other Goblins at least , maybe more. And he should really think about feeding some more before he hauled his ass back to the Fellowship.
Alex glanced back up the pit he fell through, then into the dark of Moria where he knew the Goblins and Orcs and Trolls came from.
A little detour wouldn't hurt. Not him, at any rate.
It was late afternoon when he left the Halls of Moria behind. He'd been busy inside, he thought and patted the massive book attached to his hip. The head he was still lugging around. Because...
Why did he?
Alex glanced at the disembodied skull of the Balrog, frowning. What was he supposed to do with this thing? It was just dead weight (heh), and of no use to him- first off he couldn't really consume long-dead material without fresh mass to act as a catalyst, and second this thing wasn't made of edible stuff anyways.
On the other claw, it didn't weigh him down, it didn't hinder his agility (he could still do parkour balancing a tank over his head, after all), and if he was honest it made for an impressive trophy.
So he shrugged, rolled his shoulders, and set out. The trail of the Fellowship was easy to follow, even if it was a few days old. How many days, Alex couldn't say- he didn't know how long he'd been unconscious after his fight with the Demon.
But it was still there, and the direction was clear.
The Runner inhaled once, stretched his legs.
And kicked off the floor.
Rock shattered beneath him as catapulted himself high into the air, immediately dropping his body parallel to the ground at the apex of his jump to catch the air and glide on it.
He trailed glowing embers behind. An unexpected result of his tussle with the Demon, he figured, because not only did his core temperature jump to very high levels without harming himself- enough to let the air directly around him glimmer- but he also kind of acquired a form of Bioluminescence. Not a pale blue light like deep-sea fish had, or green like fireflies. Fiery in orange and yellow, glowing inside gaps of the tendrils that made up his weapons. And even when he was assembling his more human appearance, the red tribal pattern on his back was more intense than it used to be.
Good, he liked it when he got more intimidating.
His jumps and glides ate away the distance like it was nothing. Before even the sun began reaching the horizon Alex crossed the borders of a massive forest. Something brushed above his skin like silk, like a breath of air. Likely a spider web.
He came back down like a meteor, bouncing off the soft soil in one blink of an eye the next second. It startled the Elves that were hidden in the trees and had been aiming at him the entire time, though he didn't care about them. (The only reason there weren't arrows sticking out of him right now was probably because he was moving entirely too fast and constantly above the tree line, making a secure shot impossible)
The Runner hit another tree and darted straight up, leaping off to continue his path through the air and right over a wide river below him. The Fellowship had crossed the stream too, not too long ago, so catching up to them was just a matter of time.
There was the scent of Elves mingling with those of the Fellowship, which was more than enough of a reason to calm down. Elves had always been their allies, and this forest felt...safer, somehow. Like leaving behind a Red Zone, like entering Ragland's morgue, like entering Dana's safehouse. It didn't feel entirely natural, but it was similar to Rivendell (only more prominent), so he figured it was something about the Elf Lady who was living here.
Galadriel, Gandalf said her name was, and that she would be able to maybe shine a light on what happened to him.
His glide petered out again and Alex stretched his feet to the front to catch himself on one of those huge trees and kick off it once he dashed back to the top of it. The tree shuddered, but remained standing, and he glanced back at it. He'd never seen trees like this before. They were large, almost Redwood-sized, with silvery-gray trunks and golden leaves. He would be lying if he said the sight of them didn't set him at ease.
It wasn't often that he'd had the notion that something was nice looking, not when most of his first memories were of devastated buildings straddled with infected matter and red toxic clouds. But this forest- it was something most of the people inside of him had longed to see. Something he wouldn't mind dragging Dana away from her computer for.
It was a thought that only increased in its intensity the closer he drew to the center. Because the trees grew to Redwood-size, and there were houses scattered amongst their branches. Not houses like he'd expect, not like he'd seen in Rivendell, but real-life tree houses- made up of elegantly carved wooden platforms and spiraling staircases that made them look like they were a billionaire's idea of a nature-close vacation resort. (it worked, was the thing, and he really wished he and Dana could visit one of those back home)
Alex could have explored the settlement a little more, but he was well-aware of the Elves that had also noticed him and were targeting him with their bows. So getting to their leader to get permission was his best bet.
Also, the group was nearby in the tallest tree and not moving anymore. If he were the Leader of an entire kingdom, then he'd be at the tallest structure too. Time to go and introduce himself then.
He landed on top of the next-tallest tree and stopped there for the first time since he left Moria, still a good distance away from what he figured was the main palace. He crouched low to let his Biomass gather inside his legs, increasing the pressure there like a small Devastator.
Then he let go and catapulted himself straight upwards before dropping to the front into a glide, streaking a glowing trail after him through the darkened sky. The moon hadn't risen yet so his approach was plainly visible. And terrifying as fuck he knew. (He really could use this when he approached a Blackwatch Base, to make them scared shitless before he even hit the ground)
From above, he spotted the Fellowship standing on top of the second-highest platform. Surrounded by Elven Guards. In front of them, just one platform higher was an archway with two white-clad Elves. Most of them were staring at his approach, except for the woman. She was watching- watching curiously.
Possibly the Lady Galadriel.
Alex twisted his body and descended towards the platform, buffering his drop with a short air-dash, but he still hit the ground with enough force to shake the entire damn floor. (Maybe he'd overdone it with feeding)
Still, manners.
He stood up from his crouch into a bow, claws fanned to the side and teeth shining white in the pale light of the lanterns. "Please accept my sincere apology, your majesty", He purred, "But it hadn't been my intention to be this late."
He dropped the Balrog's head he'd lugged around this entire time. "I brought a gift", he pointed out, "Durin's Bane has been slaughtered and will never cause anyone harm ever again."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Strider (Aragorn, he should really refer to him by his name) loose the tension that's been wrought into his shape. The Elves around stared at him like he did at the Supreme Hunter when it first appeared before him. The Elf Lord was watching him like he was going to let loose a Devastator any second now. The Elf Lady...
She eyed him like he was the most complicated puzzle she'd ever seen.
The Elf Lord was the first to find his voice again. "A gift indeed", he intoned, still staring at Alex like he was going to maul them (though there was a little surprise and gratefulness in it since Alex killed a Demon sitting basically at their front door), "For slaying a Balrog is a feat not heard of in many an age."
Yeah, well. This thing had pissed him off, and things that pissed him off didn't tend to survive for long. The Lord's face twitched in confusion. "You've slain a creature that only the most powerful of Eru Ilúvatar's children can slay, despite not being of Arda. What are you?"
"A collection of shades", The Elf Lady piped up, and Alex felt her gaze lock him in place. And her voice within his head- whispering like Greene had done, yet not like her in any way. It wasn't the visceral dislike he'd felt for her. It was...he didn't know what it was. It wasn't welcome, but at the same time, it got his attention.
Her brows furrowed. "No. Not shades. Echoes at most. Held together with hunger- or something more primal?"
Alex cocked an eyebrow. A collection of echoes? What did she...
Oh.
Oh
Did she mean the memories he had? The lives he'd taken?
Her gaze sharpened. "Not echoes then, but remnants of lives you've stolen for yourself? How many are there inside?"
Several eyes snapped to him. He held gazes with the Elf Lady, ignoring everybody else. "I stopped counting after five hundred", he replied without even pausing to think about it. He didn't know why he did, only that he saw that there was no real argument as to why not. He cocked his head, silently daring her to question him while also ignoring the startled gasps of the present crowd, "Many of them had been my enemies. Or they worked for my enemies." And some had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He figured she knew that.
He straightened his back, clacked his claws together, let the Biolumniscence glow a bit brighter. "It won't excuse anything I've done to gather them. And I know this, because I will always hear them. Hear their last thoughts, feel their fear." He cocked his head, "But you know what? I rather live with the knowledge what I've done than be what I was supposed to be."
"And that would be?" The Elf Lord inquired.
Alex snorted. "I was made to be a weapon. A monster far worse than anything you have ever seen." He jabbed his claw over his shoulder, indicating the direction he'd come from. "Send out scouts to Moria and they will find that there is nothing left alive in there. Because I was there, and I cleaned house. And you know what?" He rocked on his heels, let his eyes glow red. Tendrils skittered over his body, crawled across the wooden flooring. "This is far from what I was supposed to do. I was created to be worse. Much worse. Five Thousand dead within three minutes worse. I had been created to destroy entire countries with a single exhale."
The crowd was frozen in terror. The Lady Galadriel only arched an eyebrow. "This is the truth", she confirmed, "And yet you haven't acted out on it. Instead...you carved your own fate. You built a pile of corpses from those who created you, who wanted to use you, to be your own master." She tilted her head again like a bird. "To desire to be different, to overcome your own nature- It is most impressive. And a treacherous path to follow, for creating one's own destiny contains the potential for Good and Evil. It is within all of us, but those with power are more susceptible to the lure of darkness. Even if they mean well."
Oh yeah. That one was definitely directed at him-
Behind him, Boromir made a choked noise. Too silent for most others to hear, and Alex wasn't so sure anymore whether Galadriel hadn't been addressing the group at large instead of just him.
"Times are Dark, yet there is always hope", the Lady continued, "All of you are welcome here after the dangerous path that lies behind you. For now, do not let your hearts be troubled. Go and rest for you are weary with toil. For tonight, you shall sleep in peace."
They were simply dismissed. Like Alex didn't just blatantly threaten them. He frowned into Galadriel's direction, even as the others already filed out slowly and climbed back down the tree with nervous glances in his direction.
The Lady just arched an eyebrow. "You are not satisfied with my answer?"
"Honestly, I expected a little more screaming, and banishment."
Her expression didn't change, but her voice dropped. "I feel sorrow for your past, if this is how you anticipated to be treated. But no. I reserve judgment for the things you chose to do, but I will not judge you for what you are, for what you had to do in order to survive as you had no choice in the matter. You hadn't been taught of a different way either, is it not?"
He thought of waking up in the morgue, being confused and terrified, about feeding the first time and feeling fear, then satisfaction, and shook his head.
The Lady nodded and a small smile appeared on her face. "Your heart is Good, even if troubled. Go to your companions, let them know of what I have revealed, for you will need their trust. Tomorrow, I shall seek council to discover the hidden troubles that ail your companions."
"...thanks" Alex bowed his head slightly and turned to walk to the edge of the platform and stepped off to get to the forest floor far below.
The Fellowship had been given a camp of tents and soft bed rolls nestled between the roots of the Mallorn Trees for the duration of their stay. Elves approached them with the offer of their bathing halls, to clean themselves. Clean clothes awaited them once they were done, and all of them were overjoyed to wash off the grime and exhaustion their journey had left on them.
Now freshly bathed and clothed, they were at their campsite. The Hobbits were busy with arranging their sleeping accommodations to their desire, Gimli was staring blankly at nothing, Gandalf and Legolas were standing together to talk in hushed tones, Boromir was sitting some ways off with his head in his hands.
Aragorn blinked- the other Man's shoulders were trembling.
Concerned, he approached, only to hear his breathing hitch and him hastily wipe at his eyes.
Even the strongest of Men could break, often over the smallest of things. Or over the largest of barriers that refuse to crumble no matter how often one slammed against it. And Boromir was exhausted in a way he hadn't seen in many others.
Aragorn cleared his throat, unsure how to proceed to calm him. "Take some rest. These borders are well protected."
Boromir shook his head. "I will find no rest here", he said with a shaking tone, "I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the Fall of Gondor."
The Ranger made a sympathetic noise and sat down besides him while the Gondorian inhaled shakily. "She said to me 'Even now there is hope left'- But I don't see it." He glanced at him, eyes glassy, "It is long since we had any Hope."
Aragorn didn't say anything, let him continue speaking. "My father", the Gondorian continued, "he is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now...now our people lose faith. And. And- he looks to me to make things right." He sniffed and sat up straighter, strength creeping back into his voice. "And I would do it. I would see the Glory of Gondor returned."
He mulled for a while over what he said until he turned to him with a tiny smile. "Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of silver and pearl. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"
"I've seen the White City, long ago", Aragorn claimed. But only from the distance, never from close up. He remembered it glinting in the light, and all courage had left him so he turned and headed back.
Boromir was smiling a sad smile. "One day, our paths will lead us there."
One day, they would. Aragorn wasn't too thrilled about the idea, but he would do for his fellow Man. Boromir loved his home so much, he was willing to do everything to return.
And that was a very dangerous thing. Noble yes, but dangerous. Lady Galadriel had seen it in the correct light- the lure of Evil was in the most noble of undertakings.
"We will", Aragorn agreed, "But we will reach the White Gates without the Ring. Without carrying Sauron's corruption there."
Boromir swallowed and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to argue, but then he nodded. "Without the Ring. I- I do not need it. There is still hope as long as I live."
The Ranger clasped his hand on his fellow Man's shoulder. "A wise decision- none of us can even hope to tame the Ring. It is Evil. Rely on your blade and skill, rely on your allies. Do not rely on a weapon of the enemy." He furrowed his brows to lock gazes with Boromir. "The Ring is a weapon that will betray you. It has its own will and desires nothing more than to return to its Master."
...Which made it the exact opposite of their companion he realized in that moment- a Weapon yearning to return to its Master and a Weapon that turned on its Master-
Unbidden, his gaze found the Wraith standing at the root of a tree, handing the book they've found within Moria to a surprised Gimli. And...it wasn't that Aragorn doubted the words of the Lady of Light, or Alex's own confession- it was just...the idea of a Man being a weapon seemed too outlandish for his taste. To his knowledge there hadn't been a single instance of anything similar. Men forged weapons, and weapons killed Men, but there has never been the story of a weapon becoming a Man.
"Just ask"
The Ranger jerked, realizing he was pinned by Alex's glare. His eyes had changed, he noticed then- still pale blue, but what had been white was darker now. Red or black, that was hard to say in the shadows surrounding him.
The Nazgûl, the Watcher in the Water, the armies of Orcs and Goblins, the Balrog-
A shiver ran down Aragorn's back the more he thought about how easily this man had done away with them without any lasting harm to himself- a feat only the mightiest of Maia could claim for themselves.
But this wasn't what made his hackles rise, not really.
Skilled warriors weren't exactly that fear-inducing, though Alex's brand of utterly destroying whatever he viewed as enemy was terrifying. No, it was what he'd admitted to.
How many are there inside?
I stopped counting after five hundred.
Aragorn wasn't sure how to ask. How could he ask about something as this? What was it in the first place?
"What...", he tried and winced, "What did you mean with...what you and Lady Galadriel had been speaking about? The Lives you've stolen?"
Alex was pinning him with that gaze for a brief moment longer before he glanced at the floor. "Exactly that", he said.
It...cleared up nothing. In fact, it only created more questions. Besides him, Boromir made a confused sound. "What is there so terrible about slaying your enemies that you refused to speak about it?"
He'd said over five hundred, but he also claimed to always hear them and that they were inside of him. And that didn't sound like the guilt over slaying them (he certainly had looked delighted when taking on the Orcs in Moria), but...
He didn't know what it was.
Alex's laugh was short and mean, not meant to be happy. "I don't just slay my enemies, Boromir", he pointed out, "No, what I do to some of them is way worse." He casually spread his arms to display his dagger-like talons. "Most of my foes I just killed. But some of them, I consumed." He pointed at the Ranger. "You've seen me do it before we introduced ourselves to each other."
Aragorn felt his spine turn to ice. Faintly, he heard the others of the Fellowship mumble amongst themselves, their voices hushed and terrified.
Remnants of the Lives stolen
The Wargs. The Orcs. The Watcher in the Water- The flaying of their bodies, the tearing of flesh, the breaking of bones, the wet slurping noise.
"Eat?" That was Sam's faint voice, "You eat your enemies?"
Abruptly, Aragorn remembered that only Frodo and him had had this type of conversation. Back then Alex had confirmed he needed to kill so he wouldn't starve, but he'd always thought the simple act of snuffing a life was enough.
Apparently it wasn't.
"I wouldn't call it 'eating'. I myself don't know what it is, but it sure as Hell ain't what you do", the Wraith pointed out. He seemed thoughtful. "It is kind of similar, at least at the most basic I guess. And outside of battles I can go for a very long time without needing to consume again." Aragorn had the feeling the last part had been added on as an afterthought.
And...it wasn't so bad? He'd proved himself to be a capable ally. And so far, he'd only eaten the enemy, hasn't he?
But then Alex continued, and his stomach turned into knots of anxiety. "Of course, there is a little side-effect to this." His voice was low, almost dead, like he didn't like what he was about to tell them. Aragorn suspected neither would they.
"There's a reason Galadriel called it stealing. And there's a reason she called me a collection of echoes. Because it is what I am." He sighed briefly. "When I consume my victims, and they have enough mind left, I...also take their memories. Their very identities."
"The faces", Frodo gasped suddenly. All of them turned towards him, eyebrows arched. "What?"
The Hobbit grimaced and shuffled his feet. "When I put on the Ring, I was...somewhere else. There were no people, only shades, and Sauron. And the Nazgûl were Kings of Old, and...a darkness when you are close."
"Darkness?" Alex questioned.
"There are many eyes and many teeth, and so many faces. It scared me-"
"So that was why you've been screaming like you were being gutted", Merry realized. Frodo sent him a withering glare, and the younger Hobbit shrank back.
The Wraith hummed. "If that is what I look like in Spirit Vision then I guess I know how Galadriel knew."
"Knew what?" That was Legolas chiming in. The Elf had been the most unnerved by the revelation, and his hands were twitching for the comfort of his bow.
Alex didn't reply, just mulled over it for a moment. Then he turned to Frodo. "Can you remember any face in particular?"
The Hobbit was taken back. "I think? There...there was this woman. She looked...not dead, but not really alive either. Her eyes were piercing."
"Red hair? Green eyes?"
"Yes, I think so?"
Alex nodded. Stepped back- and thousands of his tiny tendrils skipped across his body. It was like the time he took on his armored shape-
The limbs sank beneath his surface, and the Fellowship inhaled.
"She looked like this?" Alex asked, but he no longer looked like himself. Instead of the tall gaunt hooded man stood a woman- smaller than he used to be with uneven chopped-off red hair, a dark tunic that was pulled taut across her body, skin covered in open bleeding sores, and haunting green eyes.
"That's her", Frodo gasped, "But-"
"I steal Lives", Alex said and started pacing. There was nothing recognizable about him anymore- his gait is predatory, but now it was like a puppet that was plucked on strings. His voice, deep and rumbling, had been exchanged for a low hiss like several voices speaking at once. His gaze was usually focused, now it was dead.
It was like he'd been replaced for her within the blink of an eye.
Aragorn's hair stood on end once he finished moving and eyed them in a bored manner before he spoke. "Everything that is them- their memories, their faces. I'm a damn near perfect copy. And she is far from the only one." His body erupted into darkness again, switching his appearance into that of a Man, dressed in dark clothes with pouches on his belt, shorn hair and a massive scar on his cheek. More confident in his posture, tense like the leader of an army. Then another man- older, heavyset, scarred, missing an arm. Another switch, and he was another soldier. Then he switched to a young woman. Then back to himself, swapping faces faster than some swapped cloth. "I have five hundred of them and once I got to them, I became them in nearly every sense of the word. I know what they knew, see what they saw."
"So this is how you knew where to look for the hidden passage", Gimli threw in while taking a drag of his pipe. His eyes were sharp, calculating despite his shaking fingers. "None other than the Dwarves of Khazad-Dûm would have known of it- or the Orcs that have dwelt for so long there already."
Alex cocked an eyebrow. "You're surprisingly calm about the whole Kill-People-and-eat-their-brains-for-information-thing."
The Dwarf merely shrugged. "Aye. But I do recognize a useful power in an ally. More yet, an ally I can evaluate easily. More than Elves, any way", he added in a mutter, though Legolas caught it and was glaring at the Dwarf.
While the rest of the Fellowship was still trying to digest that opinion, Gimli took another drag of his pipe. "But if you don't mind asking- you don't look like an ax, or a war-hammer. Sure, you can turn into blades, but that isn't the same."
He inclined his head, eyes glowing. "It's simply because I was never supposed to be something as simple as a blade, or a projectile. No, I was built to be a disease."
A...disease? Like sepsis? Like a cold? Like...
Like the Great Plague Sauron unleashed from within Mordor.
The Wraith nodded. "I can see you're thinking of the right thing, judging by your expressions."
It was then that Aragorn realized that all of them had gone pale white. The Great Plague that caused so much sorrow was something none of the free people of Middle-Earth would ever forget, despite the time that had passed since then.
"It's an not often used war strategy of in the past of my world, but it had been employed- Plague rats smuggled into cities, blankets of pox victims disguised as gifts...the list goes on", He scoffed, "Granted those are instances when people just took whatever kind of disease they found, but my heritage is basically the same even though I originate from the work of a whole bunch of nasty people in nasty little rooms trying tirelessly to breed the most deadly and most infectious diseases known to mankind."
This was horrible. It was one thing when a being of pure Evil creates weapons intended to wipe out Mankind, but if Men themselves did so-
Men were supposed to be noble, if easily swayed. But this- this was the same kind of power hunger only the most Evil of Spirits displayed.
Alex snorted, and it wasn't amused. "You're thinking the right thing again. Yeah, it's pretty disgusting what the humans of my home do to each other in the name of greed." His grin was like shattered glass. "And you know what the worst part was? In every instance a disease had been used as a weapon, it was the own government, the own leaders, that gave the permission. And more often than not this turned around and caused casualties to their own people, or it had been so terrible every nation in the world banned it. Yet in the end, the Leaders washed their hands of it and swept every monstrous thing they've done under a rug and acted like they've been innocent in all of this."
His voice was bitter, and Aragorn felt fury rise inside his chest. What kind of King would sacrifice his own people for a senseless act of violence and then act like nothing had happened?
The Wraith was silent for a moment, clearly debating with himself how to proceed until..."There was a small town. To the outside, it was like any other small town with people who enjoyed each other's companionship", A story? It seemed quite odd, but judging by the way his jaw twitched, it was clearly important. "But beneath that- the entire town had been built by the military." His face scrunched up and he spat the next words like they were poison, "First Biological Warfare Command, later Blackwatch. Imagine, an entire branch of soldiers who were picked and trained to create these diseases. Guess what happened when they infected every single person in that town under the guise of medical treatment."
"They died?" Merry tried.
Alex laughed. "That's the strange thing- They didn't. The people remained healthy. It wasn't until the children were born that the entire extent of this became clear: They were born mutilated. Twisted. The one that survived the longest died at two years of age."
There was no doubt he was speaking the truth- and it was truly disgusting to learn that Man's greed and desire to do violence turned against their own children. Killing an entire generation of children before they even grew up.
His scowl deepened. "The military counted it as a loss, let down their guard. But the disease was still there- and it jumped over. Infected a woman. Burned out her mind fast, turned her into its puppet. She became the focus of the disease- and it finally gained what it needed. Swept across the entire town and killed everybody in there." He bared his teeth in a loose grin. "Thing is, they didn't stay dead. Just like her, the infection turned them into mindless husks. Their only purpose was to protect their queen- their Mother- and carry the sickness further. It took the soldiers months to take back the town, and in the end, they just burned everything."
His eyes darkened. "Yet they didn't kill Mother like they should have. Instead they captured her, locked her away- and continued using the plague inside her blood to create new variations of the disease. And fifty years later one Man managed what none others did so far- he made the entire sickness ten times deadlier. But the soldiers who tasked him to do so, they became too greedy. Wanted to keep everything to themselves. Killed all of his companions. And the man realized it, figured he didn't wanted to die himself, and took the only sample of it and fled."
Gandalf hummed, nodding his head along. "And this sample- this had been you?"
Alex blinked briefly, "More or less", he admitted then, "It wasn't a person. It was just some black goop in a glass vial, with its development number stamped on it." He shook his head. "DX-1118C. That's the name it's been given. Later on, it has been called Blacklight. But it wasn't me then."
His expression twitched. "My creator, he didn't get very far. Just to a crowded transportation hub right in the middle of the city. He thought that the soldiers who were hunting him wouldn't dare attacking him in broad daylight. He was wrong. And then he did something I will never forgive him for."
"He unleashed the weapon", Aragorn realized. Five Thousand dead within three minutes worse.
Alex nodded with a dark expression. "The soldiers had protection. Weren't affected. Not like everybody else. However, the disease was too lethal. Nobody survived to spread it further. The weapon burnt itself out- meaning it were only those five thousands, not everybody.
"The man who created the plague was killed by his pursuers in return. But then something happened they didn't anticipate- Blacklight showed that it too could resurrect the dead, and its creator's body was the closest." Alex scowled, and his body bristled. "I woke up hours later, with a body that was damaged to a degree that would have killed a Man. Again, I guess." He turned his attention to Frodo. "Remember what I told you in Rivendell?"
The Hobbit furrowed his brows. "You said you couldn't remember anything when you gained your powers?"
"Exactly- this is what happens when the body had been long dead when I made it function again. I had no memories, only flashes at most. I didn't know where I was, only knew who I was supposed to be because two men talked about me before I woke. Said my name was Alex Mercer. I didn't know better, but when I got up to ask them, they fled. I followed them once I figured out how to control my body, and when I found them again, I saw the soldiers. Saw them kill the men just because they had contact with me. Then they discovered me. Didn't let me explain, just tried to shoot me."
He chuckled, but it didn't sound joyful. "You've seen that shooting at me doesn't do shit now. Back then, it didn't work either. Meaning that even though my body was badly damaged I managed to escape from them. But wherever I ran, the soldiers were there no matter how many of them I slayed. Hunting me, attacking me- uncaring about the civilian population. And in the end, I couldn't run anymore. I crawled into a alley, and waited for them to find me. Kill me again- though once they did it just hurt."
His eyes glowed an icy blue. "I was so angry. And hungry. My first victim taught me words, taught me where I was, taught me I could transform myself into him. My second victim taught me I had a sister. A sister who was in danger. So I hurried to her and escaped with her. Together we went on to try and figure out what was going on. And then things went from bad to worse."
"How can things go worse?" Legolas questioned, "Enemies surrounding you, threatening you-" His brows came down. "Unless..." He trailed off.
"Unless Mother was nearby. I don't know whose idea it was to lock her up in a place that was crowded with humans she could infect, but the moment I woke so did she. And she escaped, unleashed Hell on the city." He bared his teeth again. "And if you think that five thousand casualties was horrible, just remember that in the end she corrupted eight out of ten people in the city- and her victims continued to live as a twisted version of themselves with the only purpose to spread the Plague further. But unlike the first time she unleashed her powers, back when she had them for a short amount of time, there were way more variations of monsters she could summon- some that still looked human but had weapons similar to mine, some the size of trolls and equipped with claws and fangs, some larger than the previous ones and even more malicious, some the shape of giant serpents that buried through the ground and attacked from below."
"How many have fallen to her?" Boromir demanded to know, looking slightly sick, "Hundreds? Thousands? Ten of Thousands?"
Alex shook his head. "Millions. Two point four Million people had turned into mindless husk once fourteen days had passed. And the only reason those numbers hadn't exploded to hundreds of millions was simply because the city was built on an island, and the disease couldn't spread across large bodies of water."
"Merry, how many are millions?" Pippin whispered.
It wasn't likely meant for anyone else's ears, but the Wraith decided to answer anyways. "A thousand times a thousand Men", he said, "The number of sand grains in a barrel of sand. These are the kind of numbers that fell victim to her, to Redlight."
He turned to Aragorn with a sharp-edged grin. "I told you the Plague I experienced made Sauron's Great Plague look like a mild case of the sniffles in comparison."
It were impossible giant numbers. The Ranger could hardly even believe them, let alone imagine them. The amount of bodies alone-
No, there hadn't been bodies lying around. He'd claimed that they've gotten up and sought out the living to consume them. And there was no reason for him to lie about such things.
Which made it way more terrifying than anything Sauron had ever done.
The Wraith only sighed. "And despite Mother's creatures attacking me as well, the soldiers didn't realize I was as much her enemy as I was theirs. They doubled their efforts of killing me, while simultaneously trying to force Mother's armies back. They were losing on both sides, and they would have lost completely if I didn't start helping them. I fought alongside the soldiers to force Mother back. And at the end of those fourteen days, I faced Mother, and I killed her. Consumed her so her blood would never be used for weapon production again, and her armies collapsed into a disorganized mess in an instant. After that, they weren't as much of a threat as the soldiers. Because the moment I was free of fighting Mother, I turned my focus on them. On their leaders. And I hunted them down one by one. At that point, I have personally taken down more than twenty thousand enemies- most of them the Infected, but two thousand had been soldiers."
Which was a nightmare. Alex on his own was already a terrible sight to behold, but combined with his ability to be whoever he killed, to sneak into an enemy's position- Aragorn could only imagine the fear his opponents had to live through, to never know whether the man they were talking to was their companion, or the creature that was hunting them.
Said creature snorted. "As it was- it was a good thing I set my sights on their leaders, on their General. Because he planned to burn the entire city. Not caring about the six hundred thousand people left alive, not caring about his own allies, or his own men on the ground. I took him down, prevented him from destroying the city, prevented him from killing my sister. Then I woke up here."
Silence fell heavily onto the Fellowship as they tried to digest the information they'd been given. Aragorn could see their faces, could see them trying to reconcile the idea of the man they knew with the idea of the man who'd rained fear on his opponents and slaughtered an truly impossible amount of enemies.
Then, of course, Gimli started speaking. The hand holding his pipe was shaking, but the Dwarf himself seemed steady enough. "So, let me get this straight- you fought two armies at once on your lonesome. One made up of soldiers who had decades experience facing enemies like you, and one made up of millions of mindless but persistent foes. Yet still, you were the one who won."
"There's no winning a war. Just getting out on top", Alex reminded him.
Gimli waved him off. "Semantics, as one says. All that matters is that you fought against overwhelming odds and still survived, while everybody you targeted did not. And that is more than enough for me." He took another drag of his pipe, staring the Wraith dead in the eyes while addressing Aragorn. "Aragorn, we're going to keep this one", he said, "And have him march on Mordor. Distract them by breaking everyone and everything. That way, we can destroy the Ring a lot easier."
So, this is this. I know, it is kind of clunky, but I really couldn't be arsed to invest even more work into this friggin' conversational piece.
Chapter 12 has even more conversation and took me six months to work through.
Also, 's Cloudflare blocked me, and then the internal system could not parse my uploaded chapters.
At this point, I want to thank the Steam Version of Okami and Titan Quest for motivationg me enough to write and do something other than staring at my screen and do nothing.