Transliterated [Xenofiction Isekai]

I was part of the team that maintained entanglement relay networks, what the natives ended up calling "Beacons." These networks serve numerous purposes, depending on where they are deployed. This one, however, was the first established off-world, intended as a test case for hypothetical colonization efforts. They wanted to see if consciousness imprints were a viable idea before ever attempting with proper human hosts, and decided that animal testing was the right choice instead.

I thought it was, too. I'm just as much to blame for this as anyone else.

But my job remained unchanged. I was to interface with a relay, troubleshoot any system errors, and deliver my report on the viability of the project. It was the way I needed to travel to one that first complicated things.

"You are one of the Makers," Hunter Sleek-Stream stated flatly, still seeming to find the idea of being casual about it blasphemous despite having had several days to get used to it. "Why is this something you struggle with?"

"First of all, I told you to stop calling me a 'Maker,'" the Engineer replied. Sleek-Stream didn't seem any more inclined to listen this time than the previous eight. "Second, I… never learned how to swim. Not in my original body, and I actually knew how to move that one properly."

"Then you will have to start, because we are not made to walk long distances. You will not reach Deepcross before First Snow if you do not use the Deeps to swim there."

"Right, I agree, but I need to start slower than…" He stared at the body of water in front of him, an unnatural gouge cut through the earth, a bottomless abyss that threatened to swallow him whole. His sole means of salvation. "...This."

"The nearest freshwater pond deep enough to swim in is a half day's walk duskward," Sleek-Stream huffed. "But learning is easy! Every pup does it without issue. Even if you struggle to move correctly, you will be fine. Just jump in!"

"Really? You just have your children jump in deep water right away?"

"Not every pup excels at swimming right away, but we are quite buoyant. They simply float on their backs until they learn the proper movements."

"Okay. Okay." The Engineer paced back and forth on the edge of the water, working up the nerve to jump. "Just… pull me out if anything goes wrong, okay?"

"You will be fine." Sleek-Stream gave him an encouraging shove, one that a natural-born otter wouldn't have been moved by. But the ex-human did not have the same sense of balance, and immediately stumbled to his right, tumbling over the edge and into the water.

Almost instantly, he realized something had indeed gone wrong. His eyes, ears and nose all burned, and his first attempt at raising his snout above the surface to breathe resulted in him choking on the water that had already flooded his sinuses. His limbs thrashed attempting to right himself, but they moved out of sync, resulting in him spinning the wrong way and getting another nosefull of water for his trouble. Finally managing to get on his back, he forcibly exhaled, painfully pushing the saltwater out of his nose.

And then, having emptied his lungs of air, he began to sink. His panicked thrashing failed to bring his head above water, and only one thought crossed his mind.

I am going to die here.

He… wasn't that scared of it, to be honest. In fact, it was considered to be quite likely that his first attempts at reaching a relay would end in death to predation or injury. His imprint would just get applied to another host and he would need to try again. He could at least take comfort in that as he felt his consciousness begin to slip.

But… I'm not the only one who–

"Hold on!" Before he could complete the thought, sharp claws dug into the fur near his shoulders, and he reflexively latched on to whatever just grabbed him with his own claws.

In a flurry of movement that he couldn't quite follow, the Engineer soon found himself flopping back on dry land, alternating between gasping for breath and vomiting up seawater. Every inch of him ached and burned, inside and out, and the only thing he could hear was the hammering of his own heart, reverberating in his waterlogged ears. He didn't know how long he laid there, but it must have been a while, because he was only brought back to his senses by the sound of Sleek-Stream filling a bowl with fresh water next to him.

"Here, drink. Swallowing that much salt water will leave you dangerously thirsty."

"Thanks," he groaned, unable to do much more than dunking his snout in the water and making a mess as he greedily sucked it down.

"Would you like to explain what happened just now?"

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"I almost drowned, despite your assurances that it was perfectly safe," the ex-human growled, more frustrated than angry.

"It should have been!" Sleek-Stream stamped a forepaw. "You would need to deliberately try to drown in order to inhale water like you just did! I know you are strange, but I did not take you to be suicidal!"

"'Deliberately try?' What is that supposed to mean? Water just rushed in my nose and eyes and ears without me 'trying' to do anything!"

"...Your eyes?"

"Yes! Salt water hurts! Why didn't you warn me to shut them?"

"...Oh." The native otter slumped over in the grass with a soft whine. "I get it now. Your instincts are broken."

"Instincts?"

"Our species will instinctively close our ears and nostrils when we go underwater, and our inner eyelids will protect our eyes while allowing us to still see. It comes naturally, so even inexperienced pups will do it." They rolled over and stared at the human, sorrow and regret shimmering in their eyes. "But you do not have those instincts. And I pushed you in the water. I almost…" The otter reached forward with a paw, gently touching his nose. "I have already lost Amber-Dreams once. I almost killed it again…"

"But I'm not…"

"You are Amber-Dreams in body, regardless of your mind. If I cannot keep you safe, then…"

"...Then you'd lose them for good."

We'd known that the chance of "mismatch" with a given host would be a problem going into testing, there's only so much you can do to map a human consciousness onto non-human motor controls. But we'd assumed that it would only be a matter of muscle memory and re-aligning proprioception. We failed to anticipate that many necessary survival instincts were technically a conscious effort, if only in that they could be consciously suppressed or controlled. This meant that a complete suppression of the conscious animal we were occupying would suppress those instincts as well.

For me, it meant that I was an otter that could not easily learn to swim. But for others, it could mean immediate, deadly complications. If I hadn't gotten to the relay in time, my absence would have prompted the automated systems to imprint the next engineer in line to do the job instead. I am very familiar with that particular man, and we had butted heads many times on how cavalier we should be with regards to the health and safety of imprints. I knew he wouldn't care about the chance of complications so long as the process technically worked, and he sure as hell wouldn't care about the animals we were supposed to be testing on.

In the eyes of the project at large, both are disposable and easily replaced. Sacrificial offerings in the name of data collection.

The Engineer wouldn't have been able to figure out swimming in time to travel to the "Beacon," so he had to fall back on the thing humans were best at: building tools to assist. Making a simple raft was actually not that hard with Sleek-Stream helping, it wasn't the first time it had needed to cobble something together to haul cargo along the Deep, though it was the first time that it needed something to carry another person comfortably.

In the end, the flat, almost sled-shaped raft turned out to work well enough for their purposes, though it was definitely lacking in terms of padding or ergonomic design. Two notches cut into the front served as handles to grip with his forepaws, while his hindquarters hung off the back for him to paddle and propel himself through the water. It wasn't elegant, but it was fast enough to get him where he needed to go.

Unfortunately, that wouldn't be enough for Sleek-Stream to let him go alone.

It was a bad idea for anyone to accompany him. Not because it wasn't safe. In fact, the risk of him falling off his raft and drowning alone was far too great for him to be able to argue against. But the otter had gotten… attached. Primarily for the safety of its partner, but it clearly cared about the Engineer's wellbeing as well. And that would only cause problems when it came time to put an end to all of this. The fact that it kept trying to get him to enjoy himself wasn't helping.

"Do you seriously mean to tell me that you do not do anything for fun?" Sleek-Stream asked, drifting past the Engineer on its back before smoothly corkscrewing into a dive, popping up on his opposite side a second later.

"I do, but not when there is something important to do," the Engineer grunted, starting to feel the strain in his haunches after paddling all morning. "I only have seven days left to complete my mission, and it will take us five to reach Deepcross if all goes well. I don't have time to mess around."

"Enjoying a conversation with a friend while you travel does not slow you down. If anything, improving your attitude will leave you healthier. Stress is exhausting."

The former human fell silent for a minute after that. Not because he was struck by the point Sleek-Stream was making, once again the otter's logic was unassailable. Rather, he was struck by a secondary implication.

"You… consider me to be a friend?" the Engineer asked, breaking the silence. "Why?"

"Should I not?"

"I am an alien invader possessing the body of your mate, uprooting both of your lives with no guarantee that you will ever be reunited," he snarled in self-loathing. "You would be entirely justified in despising me. I have only made your life worse by existing."

"Is any of this your fault, though?"

"Yes!"

"Abstractly, maybe. But unless my Understanding of your explanation is flawed, none of the Makers intended for Gifted creatures to exist outside of you and those who would follow. You did not know, could not know, that we existed. You intended to inhabit feral shells, and that is no worse than me hunting and eating feral fish." Sleek-Stream dipped under the water again, only to emerge right in front of him, catching his face in his forepaws and staring right into his eyes with an intensity he'd never seen from the otter before. "Understand this. The fact that you are risking so much to protect us all tells me everything I need to know. You are my friend, even if I am not yours."

Sleek-Stream then darted away, leaving the Engineer staring blankly ahead as he tried to process all of that. The raw, intensely focused sincerity of the otter's declaration was something that no amount of training could have prepared him for, and it wasn't until he realized that he was forgetting to breathe that he snapped out of his stupor and resumed paddling.

These creatures were something special. He needed to protect them. No matter what it took.

I have no shortage of regrets. But there is one that, in these quiet days, consumes my thoughts.

We are not meant for this world. We do not deserve it. I never should have allowed myself to feel otherwise.