The true strength of the monster that trapped Daniel revealed itself as it continued to bind him despite fierce resistance. Whatever mental attack it had used was shrugged off, but it didn’t matter now.


    He could feel the concentrated mana worming its way through him, preventing him from using powers. It didn’t falsely replenish his stores like the whitespring had, instead it was like someone was shoving needles into all of his veins at once and was trying to reshape his vasculature that way. It was strange, he’d never known you could feel pain through the seventh sense.


    He wasn’t afraid of what the monster was trying to do to him. From before, he knew the mana loop around his heart would prevent an induced monster spawn from affecting him. No, it was being crushed by the wall of flesh currently surrounding him that he was wary of. That or suffocation if the monster kept him trapped here. Could he somehow survive long enough for dawn to reset his mana?


    He couldn’t help but let out a grunt of pain as the horde leader continued trying to use its fell power on him. It was good he was in this form because human Daniel would have been overwhelmed by what the monster was trying to do.


    Instead, most of what he felt was impotent rage fed by the impossible memory of pain. He didn’t know what it was, other than a feeling that Hammer had grievously wounded him at a point he had yet to remember. Despite recovering that echo of a memory, he didn’t feel a sense of deja vu and couldn’t concentrate to follow it even if he did.


    This, this was bad. He was under no illusion that death was probable and that he had fucked up massively. The thought of buzzing past the horde and dropping monsters on it to save people had been too tempting, too possible based on what he’d known for the bond to ignore. He wasn’t a Hero, but Daniel, at least in his human form, had felt the need to act quickly to save lives. Were he to do it again, he’d have just gone back to town, or taken Khiat up on her offer to try and snipe it.


    Play dead, he decided, anger fading. This was about buying time now, either for dawn or for help to come. Could Silora find him here? If the horde leader just thought it needed more time to turn him, instead of him being resistant to the effect, it wouldn’t mulch him.


    The pain, pressure, and feeling of his body moving made it difficult to stay still. Small changes were manifesting that he couldn’t see, but as soon as the mana of the horde leader found purchase somewhere a stream would connect to his heart, and whatever changed would revert thanks to Regeneration. Despite this it was incredibly disturbing and only added to his difficulty in remaining both calm and still.


    Definitely good I’m not human right now. The intruding mana picked up a little as the pressure on him increased. It would’ve been enough to kill a normal person, but his body was strong. The rate of small mutations could be increased all the horde leader liked, it couldn’t bypass the protections a god put in place, even if in this case the warding was unintentional.


    Time wasn’t passing as it normally would in this space as Daniel had no external reference. Quick Mind might have helped him keep track, but that wasn’t a power he had right now. He put what mental energy he could into searching for a new one, hoping for an awakening that would help, but either there was nothing there or the suppressive effects of the invasive mana could prevent a new power from forming.


    Eventually, the horde leader stopped infusing him with mana, save for a small trickle to continue locking down his powers. He tried to fight at this point, fearing it was done with him, but despite the low amount of mana it had a strength behind it that refused to break when he pushed. As he prepared to claw out at what he could, a presence entered his mind.


    Daniel had hosted the thoughts of enough mortals to tell this one was far different. For one, it had a vastness to it, on scale he’d never felt from Lograve who had almost consistently been two levels above him. What was worse, there was a distinctly alien feel to it that his mind struggled to comprehend. It was as if trying too hard would put him under the same effect as the horde leader’s mental attack as his mind fogged.


    This wasn’t the horde leader, though. He knew that, though he didn’t know why. The foreign presence examined Daniel like it was a feral beast locked in a room with him, backing him up to a corner and sniffing him to determine if he’d make a good meal. Only, the presence wasn’t that… unrestrained. Inelegant. The image of a beast fit, but it wasn’t-


    Oh fuck. Recognition mirrored in the presence. The god. He’d suspected the attack had been coordinated by the Origin Beast, but not that it was in active communication with the horde leader. Somehow, it had made a connection to his mind.


    Any fight in him was made moot as the awareness of his surroundings faded. He was still there, still in his body, but the signal from the god was overwhelming anything else. It wasn’t… words, and neither was it as hostile as Daniel first expected. There was an ominous feeling to the presence, like a judge holding their gavel before the sentence would be rendered.


    As for what the god sent him in this moment of direct communion, they were flashes of sensation. A hand running through fur, the sight of an odd color contaminating a river, blood seeping from an internal wound. There was no way he could stop these, and yet he didn’t think they were meant as an attack. It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand the Origin Beast’s language, it was that they communicated on two entirely different spectrums. Two different systems. It was doing its best to bridge the gap, though only hints of its emotions came through the clearest.


    Last was the image of a burning tree taller than the mountains around it, seen from far enough away that there was little definition to it. Rays of light shone from somewhere high above, lancing into the bark. Pain, sharp blinding pain, reminiscent of the kind he’d half-remembered just now, coupled with an echo of his rage directed at Hammer. This last one was repeated three times and Daniel found it oddly similar to how Khare and he had used marks to point at things.


    It knew him. This was the one Rorshawd had given himself to, and yet it was surprised by what it found. Daniel couldn’t entirely grasp what it was trying to communicate, but it had latched onto his changed form and hatred of Hammer. Was it trying to see if he was an ally?


    There was an eagerness in the implied question that stunned him out of his building enmity. This imperious, all-powerful leader of the monstrous hordes bent on destroying the Octyrrum, the being personally responsible for everything Rorshawd had done and the consequences thereof, had a curiosity to it as it examined and questioned him that he’d almost call young. Simple, perhaps, but not unintelligent.


    Why? He found himself asking. Why come here and fight them? Why kill us? There was an obvious answer, and no matter its motivations this thing was evil, but he had to know. This was the source of the hatred that drove all monsters to kill people, the same that had almost made Hunter kill him until he’d pacified and then removed it unintentionally.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The god withdrew for a moment before a tide of images came through, many redundant but for a small change. Empty next. Broken nest. Variations of the burned forest and dirtied river. A sky of cracked colors and flesh that had grown torn and diseased. With every one the same soul-searing pain and rage against Hammer. Anger slowly replaced the earlier curiosity and suddenly there was the judge again. It was as if the god had made itself vulnerable, for just a moment, before seeing him for what he really was and wasn’t.


    He saw a longer, more complicated image next. It was the Octyrrum, the eight-sided true version rather than the one missing Grave, surrounded by closed eyes that were slowly opening. The one he was closest to was already open a sliver, and from the gap the god gazed upon the world where-


    ???


    Confusion came across the mental link as Daniel snapped back into focus. Somehow, the mental vision from the god had triggered the unidentification Torch had left him with. The Origin Beast must have sensed the source as it was incensed, and the mental world fuzzed a little as real pain, not an image of it, was introduced. The horde leader was squeezing him, and the intrusive mana was flowing faster than before.


    You won’t turn me, Daniel thought defiantly. You think you’re the victim? You lost a war you started. You’ve kept losing it, and all you’ve done is get more people and more of your kind killed. Have you ever tried making peace?


    He was shouting uselessly into the void, but that was about all he could do. The god didn’t reply with any more mental images, though he could sense it grow both distant and more agitated from his words. Or perhaps, from what it could understand from them.


    How many times has this happened? He asked, trying to bring up a mental image of the Octyrrum shattering, reforming, and breaking again. They say there’s only been one Collapse. I think that’s a lie. How long will you continue this fruitless hunt?


    An image was sent his way with what felt like an afterthought, a mountain of bodies with one standing alive on top. ‘This time, we win,’ is what he took from it. Neither could he argue. If one of the gods had betrayed the others, this could be the last Collapse.


    He was caught, unsure what to say or do next. Trying to persuade the Origin Beast away from its scouring of the world seemed a laughable idea, but he had to give it a shot. Now, he was completely at its mercy. The only thing he could deny it was twisting his form. It was certainly trying, experimenting with different movements in the mana flowing through him. Every time, the loop in his heart denied the god, even when it attempted to pierce the protective formation or drown it.


    Another series of images, these more directed. Various predators attempting to track or sight prey as they moved through the land and sea. Asking him what he was. Knowing it could likely read his thoughts, including those he screened from normal telepathy, Daniel did his best to keep his mind blank. Diplomacy had failed and the last thing he was going to do was to give information to the thing trying to play mad scientist with his body and soul.


    The pressure increased when he refused, the bindings closing in so much that the blood flow to his arms was cut off. He gritted his teeth, fangs digging into his lower lip, and held on. He wasn’t weak. This enemy was stronger, but he wasn’t weak.


    The foreign mana receded again to the minimum needed to lock him down. The world rocked slightly as it did, Daniel’s first sign of the outside world since arriving in this immersion tank. Had the other teams come to help him? He toggled a mark on himself, just in case Khare was nearby. There was no way to know if the gestalt had gotten the message as he was effectively blinded.


    The god sent him another mental image, and this one was more targeted. He saw himself as he would have appeared now, in cat form, before that peeled away to reveal the human underneath. Instead of stopping there, his form faded into a silhouette and another image of the Octyrrum appeared with one difference. The eight were arrayed as normal, but there was a shimmering silver barrier around it that projected the symbol of Hourglass. ‘Do you see? Do you understand?’ he could almost make out as the intent behind the message.


    It’s my Spoke, but that barrier is wrong. Why is Hourglass’ symbol there? I have one of Hammer’s Spokes in me. Hammer reformed the shield around it. Did something happen later that week with Hourglass? Red roots began to encircle the image inside of his body. Daniel’s muffled breathing quickened when he realized those were corresponding with the foreign mana that was making a new push toward the loop in his heart. It wasn’t showing him this to enlighten him but to make sure he knew what it was doing in malice.


    But why? It had already tried to break him there, and its distant power couldn’t undo what a god in the fullness of himself had wrought. That’s what he fervently hoped as the red of the horde leader’s mana drew closer to his core. It saw him as an enemy now, without doubt, and yet it was going through the whole slowly moving laser routine and giving Daniel time to pull out a mirrored watch. His confusion lasted up until he saw the representation of the Octyrrum budge, just a little.


    The roots and the mana they represented hadn’t penetrated the shield. In fact they hadn’t gotten close, but they were doing something. It was like the Origin Beast was trying to trigger an ability inside of him with its mana, though the pattern didn’t seem to fit with any he was familiar with. The roots twisted around to form a rough sphere, individual currents writhing within and on the surface. As it did, the divider between two of the gods in the Octyrrum began to grow hazy. An immense amount of glee and surprise rushed toward him from the god as he sensed an immense amount of power begin to fill him.


    No, no no no. How? He desperately thought of some way to fight back, but it was locking down everything besides his bonds and nothing there would help him escape. He tried forcing the loop to break again like it had after Hunter’s death, but that resisted his will just as it did the Origin Beast’s.


    It continued to metaphorically tape his eyes open to watch as the disturbance in the Octyrrum moved like a worm crawling under skin, nestling in the center of the formation. The net of roots around it grew tighter and tighter, and he felt his pulse slow as the pressure mounted.


    It broke as a dot of color marred the representation of the Spoke in its very center. Daniel felt as if his bones were melting as it began to expand. He mentally cried out for it to stop, but this just urged the Origin Beast on. No symbol adorned the area that formed, just a blood red that contrasted and contested the finery of the areas around it.


    The process ended when the area was about as equal in size as the other sections of the circle, the Origin Beast’s corruption lingering in the center like how Hourglass’ Realm fit into the world today. It all shuddered, and for a moment a tremendous amount of mana welled up inside the loop before it vanished with a feeling as though he’d collided with the ground after a long fall.


    Daniel’s hazy mind struggled to comprehend what had happened as the roots retreated, their work done. The mind of the Origin Beast was imperiously examining him again, making sure what it had accomplished was holding. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of hope, for if the god was going to just order its minion to kill him, it wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of doing this. He was still physically the same, his mind untouched. It could have been a lot worse.


    Reflexively, the god threw two images at him as it sensed his relief. The first was one creature wresting itself free of another’s jaws, only to bite in turn. While both carried the same surprise and glee as when it had first broken through the barrier, the second was more malicious. It was one of his memories, the old Illustrious mage who he had encountered when entering Aughal. He didn’t understand why he was being shown this until the foreign mana returned, and it demonstrated to his improved seventh sense what had been done back then.


    Rather than attempt to change his body or influence the Spoke, the invasive mana began tearing a channel open around his body and somehow moving his own to follow that pattern. He was being forced to incorporate it into himself, and the loop around his heart didn’t fight that at all. This was done far faster than every other step before, and the sense of awakening as it finished was terrible in its euphoria.


    The Origin Beast had just given him a new power. Daniel fought against his bindings more strongly than he had before, and his body did begin to change now. Seemingly satisfied, the Origin Beast’s presence departed. The space he was in began to open as well, though it did him little good. The damage was done. The change, superimposed on the one his body has already undergone, completed by the time he was freed.