Re:Cursed

Insulting the gathered cultists interested in acquiring her was not the wisest decision she'd ever made, but damn did it feel good to see their affronted expressions.

Nyxil knew it was bound to make the next Trial harder than it already was. She could already see some of the cultists running off; likely to organise some form of sabotage the moment she was alone. But she found herself nonplussed. Despite the obvious difficulties this created, Nyxil had chosen to act out for more than her snide satisfaction.

Would this insult rile up the cults and paint a target on her back?

Yes.

Did this mean that so many more eyes would be on her than she needed, considering she had a terrible secret to keep hidden?

Of course.

All this attention, did it help her?

Absolutely.

Not only did this work towards the task given to her by the Technocult — to destroy the competition — but it also stifled the options of the Fleshsmiths. While she couldn't treat the sabotage attempts of any other cults as trifling, only the Fleshsmiths had some idea of her true capabilities. Only they would throw all their resources into her capture.

Solan's cult had to be teetering at the point of no return. They had already lost so much, and now that Tarchon had wiped out a bunch of their high creeds, how much further could they go before they had no choice but to target Nyxil without caring if their intent was discovered? It was a concerning thought, but hopefully by making herself the centre of attention, Solan would back down until the Trials were over.

That… would have worked much better if she'd come out on top in the second Trial.

Nyxil knew not all the heavy hitters coming into the harbinger trials would lay low, but she'd never expected to be so wholly out-shone. It put a damper on her intent to stand out. Not only that, but the abilities already shown by the wispy girl were already impressive. What kind of power remained hidden?

"Alright, you've all had your fun," Ep'Nanorschi's voice carried over the crowd. "If you're not a part of the harbinger trials, time to leave. Five minutes. For the participants, make sure your belongings are strapped well. Wouldn't want to lose anything valuable now."

The cultists grumbled as they slowly marched to the far side of the market hall. Clearly, they'd not been given nearly as much time as they wanted to hook in prospectives. Sure, they would have time afterwards, but early ties and leashes were important.

The Bodytwisters — or maybe just Ep'Nanorschi — cared little for a schedule. Especially one that the other cults' followed. First, when the Trials had been brought forwards many more months than it originally should have, and now by stripping away any time to snatch up as-of-yet unaffiliated kids. Was it intentional? They were taking away their own time as well, but that wouldn't matter if they are content with whoever they've chosen to throw their resources behind.

Why didn't the other cults object?

Nyxil shook her head. How the Trial was run wasn't something she needed to concern herself with. Especially when cults that would never stand to get the short end of the stick accepted it.

Keeping a wary eye out lest she get another needle to the back, Nyxil waded through the crowd. She hoped to find Ari and Dan before the Trial began. It wasn't really necessary, but she wanted to congratulate them on passing. Well… assuming nothing disastrous had happened.

Instead of her friends, she found the group of childish bullies.

Kal was moving to follow the general flow of the crowd, only to have his wrist grasped by Stan. He was pulled to a stop, but Nyxil noticed how he kept his other hand hidden in the sleeve of his robe far from the other boy.

Has he not performed a he- Nyxil cut the thought off half formed. I need to remember just how convenient my overcharging blood actually is. Of course he won't have taken this fifteen minutes to heal himself. That's simply not an option for him.

Neither of his friends noticed the broken finger.

"Where are you going?" Stan asked. "The harbinger Trials are just about to start."

Kal turned away. "I'm not joining."

"What?" Oru was dumbfounded. His finger dug in his ear.

"I'm not joining the Trial," Kal repeated, still unable to look his friends in the eye. "It won't work."

"But we agreed!" Stan was taken aback. "How else are we supposed to show we are worth something?"

"We aren't." Kal snapped his arm away from Stan's grip. "The Trials are a place for the strong to crush the weak… and we are not strong."

"When did you become a coward?" Oru glared.

Kal met his gaze without flinching. "When I saw the mountain of difference between myself and two fucking girls half my size. You saw my team's score. I couldn't get a single token. Not a single fucking one."

It was at that point the boy noticed Nyxil eavesdropping and let out a nasty scowl.

"You both should drop out as well." Kal deliberately didn't look Nyxil's way. "When they are allowed to fight, people like us are going to die."

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He paused to let his words sink in, hopeful they'd join him, before he stomped after the quickly thinning crowd.

Stan and Oru stood and watched him leave. Neither made a motion to follow.

"Coward," Oru said.

Stan hummed in agreement.

The two continued to watch Kal's back until Ep'Nanorschi's voice rang over the remaining participants.

"Finally! Thought they would never leave." With the considerably thinned numbers, she spotted the Adjudicator at the far side of the marketplace, directly below the arches to the Biovault. "Now we get to start the only Trials that matter."

Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't be able to congratulate her friends until after this Trial.

There was still a surprising number of participants despite this being the harbinger Trials, but at least with all the observers gone, working her way closer to the core was easy. Roughly fifty thousand kids participated in the Trials. A little more than a third remained.

Nyxil knew many joined these later Trials even when they didn't intend to follow a harbinger path — particularly when they didn't think they'd had a good showing in the first two Trials — but she never expected this many.

"Wow, look at you all! I didn't think we had so many suicidal participants this year!" A nervous murmur passed through the disorganised gathering of teens. "But not to worry, there's still time to leave. Otherwise we'll hit a thousand deaths this year, easily. The starving embalmed will be delighted."

At her uncaring grin, no small number of participants backed off. The death count, much higher than expected, along with the promise of embalmed, only amplified people's doubts. Everyone's motivation was shaken. Hundreds flocked to leave, while a good portion of those who remained looked like they wanted to follow.

Ep'Nanorschi let out a booming laugh. "Oh, I kid. I kid."

The fleeing slowed. A low hum of relief washed over the crowd… but only briefly.

"Yes. The time to leave is gone." She waved a hand, and a flash of red behind her heralded the explosive growth of fleshy walls that suddenly rose around the Trial participants.

There would be no escape.

Somehow, the short, harsh chortles rang louder than the startled cries of the crowd. As did Ep'Nanorschi's cracking spine. She twisted five times, until she stood at double the height of her hunched form. Unnatural. The stitches through her lip and nose strained to hold her face together as her crocodilian-toothed maw stretched wider than natural.

Were they here for the Trial, or Ep'Nanorschi's amusement? Nyxil had been through a lot, but even she was unnerved looking at that venomous face.

"Now, I'm sure you're all raring to dive into your next Trial, but I am unfortunately required to state a few details lest the cults give me shit." She shrugs with a guttural sigh. "I know. I know. I too prefer to dive into the unknown without flimsy guidelines in my way. Always more enjoyable that way, but what can you do?"

A tense silence followed her words as the crowd settled and listened. Nobody wanted to miss whatever she had to say. But silence was not what she wanted.

Ep'Nanorschi snapped out of her stiff shrug, and bent her long spine forward while holding her finger out to a participant unlucky enough to be nearby. "But what can you do?!" she demanded.

The singled out girl squeaked at the sudden attention. She barely made out a "Nothing," before her throat locked up and she hyperventilated.

Their Adjudicator paid no mind to the girl's trouble. Instead, she shook her head in agreement. "Yes, nothing. Nothing at all." She turned back to address the crowd. "Well, I should start with the reward for victory. Beyond the benefits given by your chosen cult, the individual that comes out on top will receive the amaranthine core. Grants an evolution, immortality, yadda yadda yadda."

Nyxil, along with every other teen gaped as Ep'Nanorschi brushed past such a powerful sounding item. One so good, that it's existence was brought into doubt. Though, nobody dared interrupt the Adjudicator for specifics.

"For the cult you choose to go with, I have to be annoyingly precise," she grumbled. "They gain every BD earned from demerits. That includes any potential bribes taken by this year's host cult, converted to BD at predefined rates. Exceptions can be discussed between cult leaders or their delegated voice. In addition to the earnings, the victor cult gains host status for next year's Trials." Her gaze rises to the high ceiling. "There. That should be all."

They waited in silence for a full ten seconds before Ep'Nanorschi growled.

"Fine. This year's host, the Bodytwisters, relinquishes the right to the Grand Sacrificial Chamber to their inheritor host." Her spine snapped twice more. With the Adjudicator's back fully straight for the first time since she'd seen her, Nyxil was disturbed to find the woman was four metres tall. Right now, she looked inhuman. "Happy?"

Nyxil knew this was a concern many seemed to have towards her when they saw her mutations, but she now worried if Ep'Nanorschi had gone Mad. The arching ceiling held nothing but metal panels and the empty space beneath it. She was seeing things.

Most of the crowd realised as she did. Everyone shuffled backwards as one. Not a single participant, regardless of their relative strength, dared to linger near one of the Mad. They didn't turn, nor did they didn't flee in a frenzy. Nobody wanted to die.

When something did appear above, Nyxil's first reaction was relief. Her second was awe. A ritual circle had scrawled itself in the air overhead. Not on the roof, but etching itself in the space between. In a display of complexity beyond anything she'd seen, the corruptive black lines spun into a three dimensional pattern before folding through the corrupted space it created to make a pentagram far greater than even the ritual used to sacrifice her.

This was not made by a human.

The black, incomprehensible lines seemed to lock in place, then fade from existence again. Nyxil, along with everyone around her gaped. Only the sound of snapping broke her frozen gaze back to their Adjudicator as she worked her spine back into her usual hunched form.

"With that out of the way," Ep'Nanorschi said. "Lets get on with the Trial."

She waved her hand, and a dozen Bodytwisters approached from behind, each dragging a squealing lamb. The animals were already bleeding. They left trails of blood leading from the Biovault to a semicircle around Ep'Nanorschi, where the cultists held the struggling creatures still.

Nyxil didn't know when the hymns started, but soon they were all she could hear. The smooth skin of the flesh encasing the participants seemingly perfectly shaped to bounce and amplify their song back to the spreading ritual circle of lamb blood. Each echo of the hymn played into a harmonic resonance with the new lyrics, multiplying each effective tone.

The hymn was unrecognisable. All she could decipher was that it was Bodytwister at its base, but that was hardly something she needed her ears to tell. Even if there were too many voices, and echoes playing into the ritual for her hearing to handle, she couldn't recognise the type. That was strange.

This was a ritual she'd never witnessed. Just what were they doing?

Nyxil's gaze returned to the Adjudicator standing over them with a sinister smile.

No. They wouldn't.

All at once, the Bodytwisters stabbed their ritual knives through the lambs' hearts. The ritual exploded with intense, burning yellow light. Tongues of fire stretched out around Ep'Nanorschi, latching onto void and cutting through metal surfaces as if they were no different. Nyxil was not the only one to back away from the sulfurous candesence.

"Reach the top, and you pass." Streaks of fire illuminated her grin as they spread around her like tears in space. "Word of warning: best not linger under the sun."

And with that, the spatial fissure shattered through the harbinger Trial participants. Acrid yellow fire engulfed Nyxil. There was never a chance to escape.

The ground disappeared beneath her as the world became blinding. She fell.