Dick exhaled, the sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, and sank down on the edge of the cold cement platform.
"Kidnapped by my therapist, blessed by gods, and drafted into a divine war," he muttered. "What a week."
He stared into the shimmering sea below, eyes hollow.
Not to mention the gods' blessings…
Suddenly, a dark impulse welled up inside him, a need to test one of his so-called blessings.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of his katana. In a single, fluid motion, he drew the blade across his own throat.
A wet shhk tore through the air. Blood sprayed violently, painting the platform in crimson arcs. Several of the female Deviants shrieked.
Dick collapsed onto his back, staring up at the sky with a faint, almost serene smile as the world dimmed around him.
Ah… so this is what peace feels like.
Then, in an instant, it was gone. His consciousness snapped back like a rubber band. He was lying in the same spot, aware and alive. The wound was gone, his neck unbroken. But the blood remained, warm and sticky as it soaked into his cloak.
"Damn blessing," he muttered, voice flat. And yet, deep down, he knew it was the only reason he'd managed it at all. Without it, his strange new body would never have let him die. Without it, he wouldn't have had the nerve to try.
He had been able to experience death, but not keep it.
A light tap on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. He turned and nearly flinched; standing there was Summer, her face so eerily similar to his wife's that for a heartbeat his chest tightened.
"Uhm… would you take this?" she asked nervously.
In her palm was a white, glowing orb no larger than a coin. It pulsed faintly, emitting an energy that made Dick's stomach churn.
Right. The beacon. Of course, I'd be the only one who could carry this.
"Sure," he said, forcing a smile.
She handed it over quickly, almost relieved to be rid of it, and retreated without another word.
Earlier, Evalyn had explained that the Ceremony of Death was only the first of two rituals, together making up the full Deviant Ceremony. This strange orb was key to the next part: the Ceremony of Nature.
"Alright!" Evalyn's voice rang out from her throne, bright and commanding. "Are you all prepared? Have you figured out your abilities yet?"
The crowd of Aspirants nodded eagerly. Dick did not. His water affinity already bored him; after learning it couldn't drown him, it had lost its only appeal.
Maybe I'll test it later. He stood, facing Evalyn. "Do we really have to swim back?"
She grinned, spitting out a strand of black hair she'd been chewing.
"Yes! That is the Ceremony of Nature. A hundred-mile swim to our homeland, Elpis, across the raw power of nature itself."
"Wonderful," Dick muttered, earning a few reluctant chuckles from the other Deviants.
Evalyn's smile twisted mischievously as she raised a hand to the sky.
"Well, good luck!"
Before anyone could react, the cement platform beneath their feet shimmered and vanished.
Fifteen Aspirants plummeted into the dark ocean below. The impact knocked the wind from Dick's lungs. Cold, salty water filled his mouth and nose as he surfaced, coughing violently.
His blood from earlier mixed with the brine, disappearing into the vast blue.
He tried to swim, but his strokes were sloppy and desperate. His strange new body didn't take over, didn't move with the effortless precision it had shown before.
The person who owned this body before me couldn't swim.
He forced a few ragged breaths between waves. So anything I'm better at, I control. Anything they were better at, the body handles.
After a few clumsy seconds, he steadied himself and began to tread water. The other Deviants were already cutting through the sea with practiced ease.
Then something shifted.
He felt it deep within his muscles, like his very cells were humming. The water around him no longer fought him; it flowed with him. The sea felt alive, resonating with his heartbeat.
So this is what water affinity feels like…
Above, Evalyn floated effortlessly beneath the blazing sun.
"Once you return home, we'll divide you into your teams and assign your first mission. On your marks…"
The Deviants positioned themselves, eager and tense.
"Get set… Go!"
The sea erupted with motion. Dick fumbled to shove the glowing orb into his cloak, then unclipped his katana and let it sink into the depths below.
You were nice to me, Katana, but I'm not comfortable swimming with you. And I don't want to live for eternity at the bottom of the sea.
With a long exhale, he started after the others—one slow, stubborn stroke at a time.
Some time later, Dick could barely breathe. The sun had dipped low, bleeding violet and gold across the endless horizon. Each stroke grew heavier than the last. His arms felt like lead, his lungs burned, and the ocean stretched on forever.
The others were long gone, distant specks on the shimmering water. He was utterly alone.
At some point, as he swam through the silence, Dick became aware of some new things about himself. For starters, his newly enhanced Particle body is much faster and stronger than his previous. Secondly, and more interesting, through his connection to the water, he could feel it. The ocean wasn't just beneath him; it was around him, inside him, humming with subtle life. Every current, every shift of pressure was clear as breath. He could sense everything within a few hundred yards.
Which was precisely why he stopped moving.
Because something massive was rising from the depths.
The water trembled with its motion.
Dick's lips twisted into a bitter half-smile as he floated in place, chest heaving.
"This is going to hurt…" he muttered.
The water below churned. Bubbles rose in thick streams as the surface bulged. Then, something enormous erupted from the depths.
Dick barely had time to gasp before rows of jagged teeth split the sea apart. The creature's mouth opened wide enough to swallow a ship, and him with it.
The impact was instant. One second, he was afloat, and the next, he was inside the creature's maw, engulfed by darkness and overwhelmed by heat.
The world around him was alive, wet muscle shifting, walls flexing, the stench of blood and salt so thick it burned his throat. He couldn't move. Every breath was swallowed by the creature's heartbeat echoing through its flesh.
His palms pressed against the slick tongue. It pulsed beneath him, pushing, rolling him backward.
Claustrophobia clawed at him. He tried to fight, but there was nowhere to go. The air grew hotter, tighter. The throat opened behind him like a dark tunnel, and with one slow, crushing motion, the monster swallowed.
He slid down, forced by waves of muscle that squeezed from all sides. His chest caved with the pressure; his ribs creaked. His vision dimmed, and his lungs screamed for air.
A faint smile crept across his face as he felt himself sink.
"Figures…This is much worse than the bottom of the sea," he whispered hoarsely, the last of his breath slipping away.
Then came the silence.