Chapter 2

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

A hungry man is an angry man… Or a tired or pessimistic man—take your pick—I'm mostly sticking to the first part of the adage, anyway.

When on an empty stomach, they tend to look at the World with a sense of cynicism. Anger becomes their armor and belligerence their reflex instincts to any unwanted stimuli.

The scientists may say that an average man could go for seven days without food, unless under extraordinary circumstances. As for me, I can't see my fellow man being capable of reaching the 15-hour mark without any budding sense of desperation for sustenance.

Trust me, I've been there—my life and my family hadn't always been a bed of roses.

So it was with that in mind I had been capable of identifying the starving gleam in these strange-looking people's eyes and what was needed to pacify them…

.

.

.

Of course, after I had given the more aggressive bear-looking man a 'light' punch to the face.

But as they say, all's well that ends well.

⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎⸎

"… Don't rush, Victor. The food isn't running anywhere…"

The ursine-looking woman, apparently named Vera chided her child with a face alternating between happiness, understanding, and pain.

"It…"

The woman trailed off as she looked down at the extra-large hamburger, fried Irish potatoes, and coke with a tinge of disbelief and pain.

"You're not going to die of hunger, anymore."

Ira looked on at the scene with his lips scrunched in awkwardness.

'Ugh, talk about heavy.'

There was something in all this that Ira wasn't getting and it made him feel like some kind of outsider—which looking at it from an outside perspective he kinda was.

Nevertheless, the mother, Vera looked at Ira and bowed deeply.

"Thank you… Thank you for sparing us some of your food."

Ira shook his head.

"Don't worry about it. I've got plenty enough from where that came from. It's to the extent that I don't even know what to do with it."

It wasn't Ira simply trying to comfort the poor woman: what he was saying was the truth.

This was one of the devices -that looked like some kind of Halo drone- functions.

The Omega-Level Artifact, the Wiseman: according to the device, with the aid of his Etheron particles shapes out extra-dimensional substances called Ether Lumps which can manifest any form of material and factual shape.

It was the 'Creation of Something from Nothing.'

Ira didn't get the core science behind that as his field couldn't have been further than the study of playing God.

Nevertheless, the half-alien -it'll take time before Ira will get used to that- knew that the ongoing process as well as the result has broken several established Fundamental Laws.

After all, to put it in simple terms, Wiseman merely needed an Image to serve as a reference to create any tangible substance Ira has seen throughout his entire life.

'As if the Dyson Sphere isn't enough.'

Of course, it does come with a glaring limitation which is the manifestation of Ether Lumps which depends solely on the consumption of Ira's Etheron particles.

With that in mind, Ira eyed the holographic screen which was made visible to only him: on it were the numbers (96%) highlighted in green to which he nodded in satisfaction.

Discounting the percentage that went to the creation of his attire, Ira feels like he should be capable of manifesting more Ether Lumps for sustenance if needed—a whole lot more.

Vera nodded in appreciation.

"Still, thank you… If you had wanted to leave us by our lonesome, none of us would have been able to stop you from doing so."

Upon saying that, Vera's eyes minutely shifted towards the two who sat some distance away and were currently devouring the same food she held like madmen—particularly the larger man, Urich who currently sported a black eye and a crooked nose.

"But you stayed out of the goodness of your heart."

The said man huffed as he caught her eyes.

"Heart? Huh, news to me because last I heard; Devils' got no heart. I don't know where you've been hiding all this food, but who's to say these aren't OUR food, from OUR city… It's only OUR right for us to eat it."

The other man, Dmitry harshly shoved Urich's shoulders.

"Cut it out with the provoking talk. You've already tried attacking him and got your ass handed back to you with one punch. Unless you're in that much of a hurry to die, then go be my guest… Only that I won't be attacking my savior."

Ira huffed, with a smirk.

"Savoir huh? Quite the funny word from someone who had been looking at me like some kind of monster a few minutes ago."

Dmitry sputtered as his dust-smeared face flushed in mortification.

"We-Well, that only goes to show what hunger can do to a normal human being, Mr. Ira. Sorry about that… Hope you don't take it to heart."

Urich scoffed in disdain.

"Well, I'm not apologizing to a Devil. Much less the one who'd destroyed my home and my life."

Looking at Urich with a sense of exasperation, Ira took in his obligatory deep breaths as he didn't want to let his spur reactions decide the way forward for him.

'I don't want to commit something that I'll regret on my first day being here.'

Ira's chilling thought had been meant, considering what could have happened some minutes ago, if he hadn't been able to stop himself and most especially, his fist in time.

Back in his former World, Ira had always been told by his coaches to hold back in his sparring matches—even against heavyweights—to not risk sending his opponents to the ICU due to a careless all-out punch.

That's what living a bit above strapping 7ft could get you.

Disregarding the new sensations of his body, Ira had initially thought that becoming his shrimp-sized self was some kind of heavy downgrade on his physical capabilities…

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Back then when Urich had initiated the attack with a tackle—heh, it's been years since anyone tried THAT on him—Ira had deflected the man's lunge and retaliated with a punch to the face.

It was a warning punch to show the old man that Ira would be the stronger one if it were to become a brawl—what? It was a necessary violence and it's always worked for him ever since middle school.

But as soon as Ira's fist began its course: the graduate knew something was very wrong.

His fist while lighter shot out faster than Ira had imagined, the sharp whistle and the distorted air—which he could strangely see—coiling around his fist didn't help either.

Maybe it's because of Ira's predisposition to be mindful of his body movements in a fight to not overextend that had saved him. Because as soon as Ira had noticed such irregularity, he had instantly pulled back his fist, stopping centimeters short of Urich's face…

But that didn't stop sending man from flying due to the momentum of his fist.

Sighing, Ira whispered to himself (?).

'So Wiseman, any thoughts on what's going on with my body?'

Deep from within, a childish voice, albeit a tad bit more mature than before replied.

[Acclimation, Astrarch Khaos. Your body is in the process of assimilating with its physical form, hence the abnormalities from your perspective]

Ira raised a brow.

'Process… You mean to tell me all these strange things that's been going on with my body aren't over?'

[Affirmative: you are 84% away from reaching your Teekaz physiology optimum levels and 98% away from an Eternal physiology optimum levels]

Wow…

Talk about one hell of a cosmetic change, Ira couldn't help the nagging feeling like he was essentially playing Create Your Character with his body.

Nevertheless…

'Hey, Wissy, didn't I tell you there's no need for you to be talking to me so formally? Or is it some kind of code-in program you can't override?'

[Clarification: it is nothing of that sort, Astrarch Khaos… It's simply… Unprecedented]

Ira huffed.

'Well, precedence got to start from somewhere, right?'

[Acquie—I mean, right… You're right, Ira]

'Now we're getting somewhere.' Ira smiled, 'Anyway, what's up with these 'bear-looking' people?'

[They're lifeforms of the Ancient species 'Ursine'—although, current scans show signs of mutation in their DNA resulting in their current appearance]

'Mutated? You're saying they aren't supposed to look like this?'

[Astute. Their original physiology was more in line with the fauna lifeforms of Earth-Prime from the Solar System. Made by the High Evolutionary, leader of the House of Evolution]

' Earth?!'

Ira's body abruptly shook, unintentionally startling the child and mother pair who gave him worried looks, but the young man merely gave an apologetic wave for them to carry on.

His attention was grabbed by the very shocking information.

'Wissy, are you telling me that I'm still in my Universe?'

[No, you're not, Ira. This is your Home Universe, located in a different time-space from the one you had been pulled from]

Ira deflated.

'Way to make a man feel hopeful, Wissy.'

[Apologies, I never intended to stir up false hope]

Turning towards the desert, Ira aimlessly scanned around with dull eyes and a heart as dry as wherever the hell this place was.

'Hope… Huh.'

There were many questions in Ira's mind—disregarding the issue of his lineage and why the hell this place has an apocalyptic touch to it—there was this ONE question the young man held in his heart.

One he was afraid of asking.

Ira knew he couldn't run from it—sooner or later, curiosity would do the asking for him and he didn't want that.

Sporadic emotions were a powerful tool, but to Ira, those emotions could also be very dangerous depending on the circumstances.

But then again, now isn't the time or place for thinking that.

Going by the little talks Ira had picked up from these people, it seems they had come from a city currently occupied by a terrorist group called, Reunion.

'That should explain the smoke in the distance.' Ira sighed in relief, 'Thank goodness, I'd decided not to follow such an obvious signal.'

Nevertheless, Ira couldn't imagine what these people may have gone through to escape with nothing except the clothes on their bodies—and he didn't want to imagine it.

Maybe this was why despite Urich's antagonistic behavior, Ira couldn't find it in himself to hate the guy.

Urich may appear or even behave like some kind of angry madman, but somehow, Ira recognized the pain within his eyes that threatened to burst out.

It must have been one hell of a life-changing ordeal.

Frankly speaking, it would be logical for Ira to leave these people and keep on moving ahead. Find more people in the know and build his findings on what is currently going on, and why this place… Well, looks like this.

But Ira couldn't.

Maybe it was his parents and siblings or his therapist or his friends, Ira doesn't know—he's been blessed with too many people to start pinpointing where it all started—but he knew that leaving these people like these would haunt him for the rest of his life.

With that…

"So what are your plans at the moment?"

"Hmm?" Vera looked at him and slowly repeated. "Plans? Well, I'm not sure… We're all heading for the nearest city, Lungmen in hopes that we can find something there. It might not be much but compared to this desert: anything is the better alternative… But considering the possibility of us being Infecte—"

"—don't say that!"

Urich interrupted her with a roar, his body tense in a furious shiver while his eyes dilated in anger and… Fear.

"We hid from that damned Catastrophe. Made sure we were never so much as near those bloody rocks, so I know you're aren't Infected! You're healthy. You're all healthy… There's no need for you to trouble yourself and start explaining everything to the likes of him."

At the spatting remark, Ira knew remaining passive any longer would be opening a can of worms and pushing things to a possible extent of no return in the nearest future.

Better to settle the score straight here and now.

"Alright old man, I've been keeping up with your bullshit for long enough… I won't start saying, I understand what you've been through. You have a right to be angry. You have the right to REMAIN angry. But not at me. I'm not the one who did this to you: my Ma and Pa taught me better. The ones you should be angry at are those Reunion bastards. They're the ones who ruined your life. It's them and only them. Don't let your anger grow into a disposition that'll bring you further down."

Urich stared at Ira for a moment, before erupting in a wild fit of laughter.

"Ruined? You describe what those-those DEMONS did to me as ruined?"

The man's body shook both in a feverish hatred and rage.

"My wife. My 2 sons. My 3 daughters. Their husbands. Their wives. Their children—my grandchildren… Of the Nikita name, we are the only one who remains. How dare you describe what they did to me as ruined!?"

Urich struggled to his feet before he suddenly bowed, coughing and hacking while beating his chest—there was a line of blood flowing out from his lips.

Dmitry and Vera's faces paled at that.

"… Dad, please take a deep breath."

Dmitry stood and held his father.

"What he… Mr. Ira is simply trying to say that there's no need for belligerence when the real enemy's still back there. Besides think about it: do you think those terrorists would leave Chernobog so soon and move out into this wilderness just to FEED us?"

Urich stared at his son, his daughter-in-law, and his grandchild—his only surviving family—anger and sadness both sieved with pain warred on his face. His fists opened and closed intermittently while his body shivered as if in pain and helplessness.

He was at war with himself.

Throwing off his son's arm, Urich sat down and stared at Ira for a second.

"If… If you aren't a part of those monsters and had simply helped us out of goodwill, then I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I thank you for giving me a chance to see my family survive one more day in this hellhole… But…"

Urich narrowed his eyes as he stared at the Teekaz (Sarkaz) with a suicidal level of determination.

"… But if this's just some scheme concocted to use my family—my only family—as pawns, then I'll kill you. It doesn't matter if you're the more powerful one. It doesn't matter even if costs me every bone and sinews in my body. It doesn't matter even if I have to become cursed to do it, because I will do it."

"… …"

There were many emotions Ira had expected to feel when Urich had said those words to him.

Anger and amusement are at the forefront.

It is not like Ira hasn't been faced with colorful death threats by other people: particularly in underground matches during his rebellious phase or in street fights where it sometimes escalates from fisticuffs to all sorts of melee weaponries.

Be that as it may, none of those 'death threats' kept their 'conviction' after Ira gave them special attention by rearranging their faces and sending them on a months-old trip to the hospital.

But this… This was different.

Was it desperation? Even so, the chilling calm behind those words exhibited none of it. Ira could sense Urich's despondency, but even that couldn't cloud the WILL behind his promise.

'Oh… He is going to try and kill, huh?'

Despite everything said and done in his life, Ira has never been placed in a spot where he would have to kill someone: mostly because none ever had the capability of pushing Ira to that extent.

But this man—this Urich—there's no small possibility that he could force Ira to do it.

… Kill, that is.

Strangely enough, the only emotion bubbling within Ira for that was RESPECT.

"Father!" Vera chided before she turned towards Ira with an apologetic look. "Pl-Please excuse him. He hasn't always been like this. It's just that—"

Ira interrupted her apology by raising his hand and shaking his head.

"Please, there's no need for you to apologize. I feel like I have an understanding of the old man's concerns, quite well."

Towards the Ursine grandfather, Ira said.

"I don't know what I can say to that except give you my word that I won't be doing any of that."

"Your words don't mean anything to me…" Urich replied. "But in times like this, that's all I am capable of taking, so I'll be taking it. Your word, that is."

By the side, Dmitry and his wife sighed in relief.

'That's something solved.' Ira thought with a smile before he clapped his palms.

"Thanks for the… Well, vote of confidence, old man. So in return, how about I stick around and escort you all to Lungmen? As I said before, I'm not exactly short on foodstuffs and supplies."

"Where are you keeping all these foodstuffs in the first place?" Urich asked.

That's because they never existed in the first place—is what Ira wanted to say, but ostensibly, the young man smirked.

"That's a trade secret."

"Hmph, what trade secret? It's probably some kind of unique Arts that allow you to store things or something from that technological country, Columbia."

Ira's eyes slightly furrowed.

'Arts and Columbia… It seems there are many things I ought to learn about this World… Tch, and it's not like I can ask them for clarification. It'll make me come off as suspicious. Thankfully, I've got just the 'device' to help with that.'

Altruism aside, Ira needed these people to serve as a sort of compass for him.

While it is true that Wissy is knowledgeable, it isn't omniscient. In situations like this, an interactive approach is needed to gain more information and to meld into the scenery better.

"Hmm?"

Ira's peripheral caught the eyes of Victor who had been staring at him for quite some time.

With a smile, Ira waved at the boy—only for the kid to retreat behind his mother.

'Ugh, really don't know how to feel about this.'

Ira loves kids—merely a single glance at his relationship with his (step) brother and 2 sisters was all that was needed to see how much he doted on them.

This was why Ira was always proud to consider himself part of the Barney Club due to how well he connected with kids. But it seems his Barney membership status wasn't going to help him with this one…

'Oh well, there's no need to rush.'

Ira sighed, scratching his (once again) beardless chin

"Not when we've got a journey ahead of us.'

Author's Note,

Okay… this chapter didn't get much except for a few expositions and exposures. But that's how the Arknights stories are: particularly in the beginning.

This story begins before Episode 5, after the rescue of Doctor, Ira would be moving ahead of Rhodes Island to interact with the cast from Lungmen. I can't assure you that he be instantly interacting with Penguin Logistics, but there are still other Operator Casts like Lee Agency and LPD—not to mention our cute (but loveable dumb) Ursine Misha.