Awaken Online (Book 3.5): Apathy

by Bagwell, Travis

  A pulsing blue substance now riddled the bell tower, spanning nearly thirty feet into the air. Flower-like blossoms had erupted from the structure and shone a brilliant red and yellow in the waning sunlight. Eliza could only imagine that the warning they had heard earlier had been given before the mold overtook the structure entirely.

  The fungus hadn’t been sated by the tower. It had already begun to spread to the other structures ringing the bell tower, overtaking the blacksmith and several of the nearby residences. It stretched and crawled across the buildings at a frightening, insidious pace. The fungus was mutating out of control now that it had unfettered access to organic material. Near the furnace, the mold had taken on a ruddy orange color. Thick plumes of spores sporadically erupted from the rest of the mass, the finger-sized clusters drifting on the wind like ash before latching onto nearby residents and structures.

  The damage didn’t stop there. Eliza could see the spores spreading along the ground as well – the fungus picking up a relentless momentum as it continued to feed. It shifted along the streets, overtook errant carts and barrels, and raced after the fleeing residents – even as it continued to change and morph in a kaleidoscopic rainbow of colors.

  A young woman stumbled in her attempt to escape the noxious tide, landing heavily on her knees. Eliza gasped softly as several of the airborne spores landed on her back. The substance immediately ate into her clothing before connecting with naked flesh. The woman screamed, clawing at her own skin – which only served to spread the fungus to her hands. As the rest of the mold caught up to the woman, it ate into her flesh at a remarkable pace, and within only a few seconds it had wholly overtaken her body. Her screams were abruptly cut off as a cocoon of yellow mold fully covered her form.

  “What…what is this?” Brian murmured in a horrified voice.

  Eliza turned to him, noting the mixture of fear and awe on his face. She opened her mouth to say… something, but she was interrupted by one of the shepherds.

  “Look at that!” a man shouted from behind her, gesturing at the town.

  She followed his finger to the same woman that had been consumed only a moment before. The cocoon pulsed and throbbed before breaking open with a fresh puff of spores. What stepped out of the cocoon was no longer human – although it still vaguely resembled the former woman. It was a little more than five feet tall, it’s body comprised of rope-like bands of fungus. A mushroom now rested where the woman’s face had been only moments before, new spores already accumulating along its surface.

  As her chest heaved and panic flooded her mind, Eliza inspected the creature.

  Sporeling – Level 50-300 (Fluctuating)

  Health – Unknown

  Mana – Unknown

  Equipment – Unknown

  Resistances – Unknown

  The creature shambled forward with awkward steps at first before it caught its footing. Then it began a loping run toward the other fleeing residents. The sporeling grabbed hold of another man, tackling him to the ground. He fought against the monster vainly, his hands smacking at its bulbous head to no avail – only serving to spread the mold spores across his skin. The sporeling leaned forward and exhaled a cloud of spores directly into the man’s face, causing him to choke and gasp.

  The effect was nearly instantaneous. The trapped man’s body spasmed in pain, and his limbs jerked erratically. Eliza’s guess was that the mold was eating him from the inside out – starting with his lungs and moving on to his spine and central nervous system. Within only a few seconds, another cocoon of mold had begun to form, signaling the creation of yet another sporeling.

  “They’re converting them into those… those things,” Brian choked out.

  Eliza could see that he was right. The mold was continuing to spread through the compound, enveloping the townspeople who were trying to flee and converting them into carriers. The fungus itself was bad enough, but, with the highly-mobile sporelings, it would only be a matter of time before the farm was completely overrun.

  The shepherds must have come to the same conclusion because their knuckles clenched tightly around their weapons. “We need to save the farm,” Joe shouted, his sword raised high. “Attack!” The others echoed his call as they raced toward the compound, their voices drowned out by the screams of the residents.

  Brian moved to jump off the wagon and join the others. Without thinking, Eliza grabbed his arm. “No. Don’t!”

  He whirled toward her, his eyes fearful but determined. “What do you mean? They’re dying! We have to do something!”

  “I-I know,” Eliza replied earnestly. She didn’t want to tell him that she was responsible for this – she couldn’t. But she also couldn’t bear to see Brian die. She pointed at the farm with a trembling hand. “How do you plan to fight that? This isn’t a normal monster. As soon as the mold touches bare skin, it will eat into your body, and you’ll become one of those… those creatures.”

  Brian turned back to the village, and he could see the truth of her words. Cocoons littered the ground, evidence that many of the residents had already been taken. Their bodies had been turned into incubators for the sporelings. “Then what do we do?” Brian asked in a tortured, desperate voice.

  That was a good question, and, unfortunately, one that Eliza didn’t know how to answer. This was much worse than she could have possibly imagined. She had hoped to destroy the bell tower… not endanger the entire farm. As her eyes took in the multi-colored tide that spread through the farm, guilt curled and coiled in her stomach. Dozens had died already.

  It was even worse than that, wasn’t it? What would happen when the mold reached outside the walls of the farm? The answer was staring right at her, Eliza’s eyes lingering on the thick grass covering the neighboring hills. It would grow at a frightening pace, expanding so rapidly that there would be no way to fight it. As long as it had access to more organic material, the mold would grow until it stretched to Falcon’s Hook and beyond.

  “Shit,” Eliza murmured, closing her eyes to blot out the image of the farm. “Shit, shit, shit.” Her quest was now forgotten as she realized she had a much bigger problem. Had she just endangered the entire game world with her stupid experiment? How could she have messed up this badly?

  Brian grabbed her shoulder and shook her slightly. “You need to focus, Eliza. You’re right that we can’t fight it normally. But you’re an alchemist! Do you know what this stuff is? Maybe we can kill it somehow.”

  Eliza’s eyes darted open, and she tried to concentrate on Brian’s face, even as her heart raced, and frantic thoughts whirled through her mind. In her desperation, she clung to her water mana, channeling the soothing energy through her body and her eyes turning a brilliant sapphire. As the power overtook her, she felt her thoughts gradually begin to calm.

  The power that swam through her veins seemed to whisper to her, its message clear. She couldn’t change what had already happened – only affect what happened next. There was no sense dwelling on the past.

  Was there any way to fight the mold? There were some obvious solutions based on her own research. Fire would probably be effective, but there wasn’t an obvious source of flames available. She chewed on her lip in thought. Or maybe some sort of herbicide?

  She had some Ferntail in her pack. She used it occasionally to kill weeds in Alma’s garden. Maybe she could do something similar here? But it wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover the entire compound. Her eyes shifted to Brian. Perhaps she could at least offer him and the shepherds a protective shield if she used Obscuring Mist?

  Assuming this even works, she thought grimly.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t exactly have any better options and the clock was ticking.

  “I-I think I have an idea. Give me a second,” Eliza said, already digging into her pack. She pulled out one of her wands and a free cartridge. Then she uncapped the liquid herbicide, fumbling slightly in her haste and some of the substance spilling onto her shirt. She ignored this and poured the contents int
o the cartridge – using every remaining drop of the Ferntail. She flipped open her wand, inserted the new vial, and snapped it closed.

  “You need to hurry!” Brian pleaded. “The shepherds are almost at the farm.”

  Her preparations complete, Eliza began casting Obscuring Mist, inserting her wand into the familiar ball of moisture once it began to take shape. As she depressed the button in the side of her rod, the herbicide was injected into the orb, turning it a dull pink before the ball expanded into a vast cloud of vapor that billowed out around the pair.

  Eliza turned back to Brian, who was now staring at the cloud skeptically. “This should protect you,” she said – hoping that she was right about that. “But you have to stay inside the cloud.”

  “Sure,” Brian began slowly, “but how am I supposed to fight those things?”

  Eliza’s gaze shifted to the town, the thrashing sensation in her stomach amplifying its pounding intensity despite the calming effects of her mana. Brian had a point. Even with the possible protection of her mist, they had no easy way to kill the sporelings or to quarantine the area. They needed to prevent the creatures or the mold itself from breaching the walls, or they would have a much worse problem on their hands. Then her eyes came to rest on the north side of the compound, focusing on the pen and the nearby barn. A familiar stack of barrels sat next to the dilapidated building.

  “Lanolin,” Eliza murmured.

  “What? What are you talking about?” Brian demanded frantically.

  “The lanolin,” Eliza explained, pointing at the barrels. “If you can get to them and spread the oil around the walls, we could light it, and the fire should stop the mold from spreading. We can’t let it get outside the walls of the compound.”

  She could see that Brian was mulling over the idea. “We don’t have time,” Eliza said insistently. “It’s the only plan we have, and we need to move now!”

  “We?” he asked in a concerned voice.

  “I have to be near you to maintain the cloud,” Eliza explained, gesturing at the pink vapor.

  Brian didn’t look comfortable with the idea of Eliza entering the compound, but he also seemed to realize that they had no other choice. With a curt nod, he started down the hill at a jog. Eliza watched his back for a moment, chewing on her lip once again. They were probably going to die, and this was completely her fault. She hadn’t thought about anything other than her own needs.

  She shook her head. This wasn’t the time for self-recrimination. She had fucked up – badly. But maybe she could fix this. Or at a minimum, maybe she could at least keep the remaining survivors alive and prevent the mold from spreading further than the farm.

  Eliza sprinted down the hill after Brian, and the pair hurried to try to catch up with the shepherds. As they neared the gate, Eliza could see that the other men were bashing against the gate with their weapons, the barrier apparently locked from the inside. It idly occurred to her that it wasn’t a good sign that no one inside the farm had managed to open the gate. The men frantically carved at the wood, chips flying away with each frantic blow. At the same time, an eerie silence had descended over the farm – the screams finally coming to a stop.

  Eliza knew that could only mean one thing.

  “We need to hurry!” she shouted as she and Brian neared the shepherds. They spared a momentary, confused glance at the pink cloud surrounding the pair, and she quickly explained, “Stay inside the cloud, and it may protect you from the spores. We’re going to head to the pens once we get inside. If we can get the lanolin, we can set the barrels along the wall and ignite them – trapping the mold inside.”

  The men glanced at Brian, and he nodded quickly. “It’s the only way! Keep going!” With that, he pulled his sword and began slashing at the thick wooden beams of the gate.

  His efforts were soon accompanied by the other shepherds. Joe, apparently preferring the hand axe to a regular sword, was making much more progress, and his blade carved off large chunks of wood with each swing. Within only a few seconds, the line of men had managed to cut a small hole in the gate. Once it was about the size of a child, Eliza gestured for them to crawl through.

  Joe took the lead, crouching and squeezing through the opening with some difficulty. The rest of the group followed closely behind, with Eliza taking up the rear. As she stepped through the opening, she froze.

  The inside of the compound was completely transformed. Mold now covered nearly every surface in a rainbow of colors. The fungus had continued to mutate in smaller clusters, creating a chaotic mishmash of mutant growths. It hung in vine-like ropes between the buildings, and massive blossoms had sprouted from the roofs of the former buildings. In addition to the sporelings that ambled along the streets, the mold itself was still growing, swiftly spreading toward the walls ringing the farm.

  They didn’t have long.

  Holding her breath, Eliza urged her mist forward. Here was the moment of truth. The pink vapor drifted forward slowly, barely touching the edge of the mold. Where the moisture clung to the fungus, it began to wilt and darken – withering before her eyes. Yet as soon as the moisture receded, the mold grew back with a vengeance.

  If it mutates and develops a resistance to the herbicide…

  She didn’t want to finish that thought.

  “We need to move,” Eliza said to the men around her. They looked terrified, but they had no choice at this stage. “We’re going to have to do this at a run. Just try to keep the sporelings off of us and don’t leave the mist.”

  They all nodded.

  “On three,” Brian said.

  “One.

  “Two.”

  He took a deep breath and the group tensed.

  “Three.”

  As Brian finished speaking, the group darted forward, Eliza trying her best to keep the mist around them. Where the pink vapor touched the mold, it carved a path forward. The fungus was thinner toward the edges of the small town, and they made good progress at first, sprinting between the buildings and dodging the bursts of spores that occasionally erupted from the large rainbow blossoms mounted to the nearby structures.

  Then the sporelings began to notice their presence. One of the mushroom monsters raced directly into the pink mist – letting out a gurgling noise as the vapor touched its skin. The herbicide ate away at its flesh, the creature stumbling and falling to its knees before breaking apart into a pile of desiccated mold.

  This didn’t deter the remaining creatures. As a group, they sprinted toward Eliza and the shepherds. They crashed against the pink mist over and over again, despite the way the vapor ate away at their shifting bodies like acid. The first dozen died quickly, their flesh shriveling rapidly. However, Eliza noted with growing fear that more and more of the creatures were managing to stumble back to their feet before they died, their bodies almost regenerating faster than the mist could destroy them.

  They were already adapting.

  Out of breath and dizzy from the chaos, they finally reached the pens. Brian gestured at the men. “Everyone grab a barrel. We’ll move clockwise around the perimeter of the farm and ignite the barrels behind us.”

  The shepherds raced to follow his orders, sparing the occasional glance at the mold creatures that still battered themselves against Eliza’s mist. Brian finally noticed that it wasn’t killing them as effectively and he whirled to Eliza. “What’s happening?”

  “They’re mutating,” Eliza gasped, continuing to channel the spell even as she pulled a mana potion and chugged its contents to replenish her waning mana pool. “I can’t keep this up forever!”

  Brian’s eyes widened at this announcement, and he turned back to the other men. “Hurry!” he screamed. “We need to get moving!”

  A moment later, each man had grabbed a barrel of oil. They immediately set one next to the wall adjacent to the pens. “Does anyone have any fire affinity?” Eliza asked the men quickly, wanting to slap herself for failing to think of this simple problem.

  They all shook th
eir heads slowly. Of course, they don’t have magic, Eliza mentally yelled at herself. They’re shepherds! How the hell are we going to ignite the barrels?

  Then Joe spoke up, “We can use the branding wand!”

  He raced back to the barn near the pens, Eliza trying to keep the mist near him. He grabbed a short rod and then ran back. As he neared, Eliza could see that held something that resembled her own wand, fire crystals embedded into the hilt. Joe ripped the lid from the barrel along the wall and then depressed the button in the side of the wand. A stream of flame raced forth in the shape of the farm’s logo.

  As the fire touched the oil, it immediately ignited, and Joe leaped backward to avoid the flames. The fire expanded ferociously, soon lapping at the walls of the farm. The mold creatures recoiled at the blast of heat, but it didn’t do anything to deter them from continuing to attack Eliza’s pink-clad shepherds.

  Seeing that the branding wand would work, Brian gestured for the rest of the group to get moving. They began running around the perimeter of the farm as best they could with the heavy barrels. Every few dozen feet, they would set down a barrel and ignite it. Meanwhile, the sporelings and the growing flames chased them.

  Eliza’s legs burned, and her breath came in ragged gasps as they made their way forward. The others weren’t in much better shape, several of the shepherds beginning to lag behind as their stamina quickly depleted.

  The sporelings were also becoming more aggressive, slamming their bodies into the mist relentlessly while their bulbous heads let out angry wheezes and puffs of spores. One creature entered the mist, stumbling to its knees as the mold making up its body shriveled and shrank. As they ran past the sporeling, Eliza spared a glance over her shoulder and saw the creature’ prone body twitch slightly before it began to retake its feet and shamble after the group – the mist unable to destroy the creature completely.