Misbegotten Memories

They fought kangaroos with stingers on their tails. And wolves covered in quills. And some kind of ape that looked straight out of a cheesy eighties horror movie. Hector handled all of them without issue, though a couple of times he received a blast of miasma as the monsters decomposed. Fortunately he seemed no worse for those exposures.

Night fell and they continued onward, their path lit by flashlights that created deep and treacherous shadows. Hector relied heavily on his domain's touch sense, grateful he'd once spent a few days navigating through pitch black caverns. Birds of some sort dove on them about midnight, all of them freakishly conjoined in twos or threes. Their fetid corpses fell apart the moment anything struck them, becoming noxious clouds of malignant soul poison.

Hector did his best to clear out the threat, but he soon heard echoing coughs coming from one of the remaining Titans. When they briefly stopped for another meal break, he heard the softer hacking of several Jinn soldiers. The sound almost triggered a panic in Hector. He saw Rodrick as he was on that last dungeon run, desperation in his eyes. He felt the same helplessness, knowing he couldn't do anything to make the situation better.

Fed and watered, they resumed their journey. Ground-hugging mists of miasma soon blocked their forward progress. Hector volunteered to find a path forward for the rest of them. Mostly because he wanted to minimize the suffering of his peers. Also a little bit because he couldn't bear to be around the coughing much longer.

He ran through the miasma, warding it away from his flesh with his aura. An infusion of cosmic energy through his body aperture reduced his need for air so that he didn't have to take much of the taint into his lungs. Three trips back and forth finally located where the miasma was thinnest.

Hector took a break after the entire group passed through the patch, pushing cosmic energy into his body to expel the lingering miasma. It fought back against its banishment with a determined will. An anthropomorphism of his exhausted mind made it feel like he directly contested the miasma's intent with his own. Like a vicious arm wrestling match.

They continued on for another dozen miles, occasionally fighting strange beasts that became increasingly warped. Most were hard to categorize as resembling any particular form. They were collections of limbs randomly growing upon cancerous blobs. Each one that died exploded into what looked like spores; thick, gritty clouds inimical to life.

Another sea of miasma awaited them. In the distance, repetitive explosions sounded. Their target, a monster the size of a mountain, was walking. Hector forged through the dark mist, searching for the fastest path to the other side. His run turned him about several times, threatening to get him lost. The energy expenditure of keeping himself safe from the miasma was immense. Hector had already dropped below half of his reserves.

The crash of a giant's footsteps continued in the distance.

The miasma on the mental band resonated with hate and violence and rage and destruction. He denied it any influence on his mind. The bits sticking to his aura were harder to handle. He had to flush them away with expensive flares of cosmic energy. Then there was the constant expenditure to keep his body working properly without oxygen.

Hector finally emerged back near the task force. He stumbled closer to them and shook his head. "I can't find the other side. Going into that will kill most of you for sure."

George climbed atop Fred and stared into the distance, where the rising sun was obstructed in their direction of travel. "We don't have a choice. The target doesn't look like it will pass by our current location. We have to go to it." The man turned to look at Hector, his RoboCop visor obscuring whatever expression he might wear. "Xian, fly above the miasma and find us a path. Whatever it takes. We will spend all of our lives before failing this mission."

Hector clapped a fist to his heart in an Arahant salute before taking to the sky. He gained height and squinted in the early morning light, trying to determine where the dark clouds below relented. There were no easy answers, but he noticed contours to the land. There were ridge tops tall enough to escape the worst of it.

He mapped a path mentally, then had to drop into the mist to determine if the ground would let a wheeled vehicle climb to those peaks. Hector crossed numerous options off of his list before he identified a path that would take them forward.

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On one of his trips into the sky, the light of morning was bright enough for him to truly get his bearings for the first time since the previous day ended. He looked towards the mountain peak in the distance and almost fell from the sky in shock.

It was no mountain. It was a tarantula scaled up to an unbelievable size. Its limbs were shimmering metal swords that sank deep into the earth with every step. The outline of its legs converging upon the body gave an appearance of a mountain if one didn't look closely to notice the missing bits.

Hector got himself back under control and identified a path over the next two hours that would bring them close to the monster with minimal time spent submerged in the deadly mist. Then he returned to guide his comrades into the mess.

Three Arahants disappeared during their first hike to a peek, never to emerge again.

The last of the Jinn commandos succumbed during the hike across the ridge.

Half of the uploaded Jinn broke down and had to be left behind during their journey across the second ridge top. George forced them ahead with implacable willpower. Hector didn't know how the man did it. He felt like he was drained just from dealing with the miasma.

And he was. His energy reserves were down to about fifteen percent.

The immense monster was close now. George called a halt and gathered the handful of them who remained. It was down to Jinn and Hector. Not biological Jinn, either – with the possible exception of George himself, whose exact proportion of flesh to machine remained unknown.

"I'm surprised you're holding out so well," Hector rasped, voice harsh from inhaling the poison.

George tilted his head. "My biological components have been enhanced. Gene editing and mitochondrial replacement. I'm still in trouble, mind you. I think my soul started to crack. I've lasted long enough, though. Wendy! Are we close enough?"

The antimatter containment unit detached from Fred and crawled free. "Yes."

"Do you need anything else?"

Wendy began lining herself up. "All of you should dip down into the miasma on the far side of this ridge. It might protect you from the worst of the blast."

George turned to look at his team. "Those of you who feel like you haven't received a fatal dose should retreat. We did good."

Rover Fred turned in place and rolled up next to Hector. "I'm not sticking around if we've got a doctor's excuse to skip school. Are you coming, Hector?"

"Yeah."

George nodded. "Get to safety if you can."

Hector mounted up on Fred and they began reversing their earlier journey.

"Do you know where you're going?"

"I do remember how we came in, but right now I'm taking us deep. Antimatter doesn't make cute little explosions, Hector. The terrain is about to be rearranged. If the miasma blunts the legal energy enough, we might live to tell this tale. If not… well, that would be a kick in the balls."

Hector sighed, not sure if he could handle a deep immersion with how drained he was of energy. For that matter, he wasn't sure if Fred could handle it. "How are you handling the miasma?"

"My peripheral systems are gummed up pretty good. Unlike all the other mechanical folk who fizzled out, I uploaded to a Mercom cognition unit. The Union Central knockoffs are prone to all sorts of problems. I think my particular insight helps out, too."

"The radioactive decay one?"

"Most of my batteries and capacitors are in a failure state. I'm running directly on my radioisotope thermoelectric generators at the moment."

Hector nodded to himself. Fred was bad, much like himself. Critically, both of them could still survive this with a little luck. "How are your energy reserves?"

"Half full still."

There was a flash of light and heat high above. A concussive wave followed shortly after. It shook them hard enough that Fred almost flipped over. Meanwhile, an avalanche of rocks flew past, narrowly missing them. They slid to a stop and waited.

An earthquake followed. This time, Fred did roll. Hector threw out cables to stop their descent, then righted his friend. The two of them still lived.

"I think the second quake was the monster collapsing," Fred said.

Hector grunted. He had inhaled a good bit of miasma and was working to expel it.

Fred drove forward at full speed, minimizing the time they spent immersed in the caustic mist. At the same time, Hector was weighing his options. He was below ten percent energy reserves by that point. That was not enough for him to be comfortable fighting. He needed to restore some cosmic energy. Which meant cultivating.

He could fall back on his faithful method of using his externality.

Or… he could try to use his domain. That seemed like a dumb idea. There was no rune wall to filter out the miasma. He was submerged in the stuff. The idea wouldn't leave him alone, though. The fact that there was so much miasma had to mean there were rifts nearby. How much chaos would he find in the air?

He decided to find out.