Chapter 143 - The Complexity of Emotions

Ok, so after this chapter there are 9 more before ATP has no more chapters. If you would like to read it until then, then I'll be making the final 9 chaps fall under the $2 tier. Not fair to pay 9 bucks for less than a third of its value, after all. Thanks for sticking with me for this long, I really do appreciate it.

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3 Months Later

“Breath in and feel your aura retract along with it,” a rumbling voice resounded, akin to the booming echo of boulders crashing against boulders. Drifts of sand spun through the air, and the hiss of the wind tickled Brock’s eardrums. He did as he was told, “akin to the element of water from a fluctuating well spring.”

Slowly, as he sucked in a breath and felt it inflate his lung, Brock’s aura followed suit, drifting back into his body like a beach’s tide until the barest trace was left. It far surpassed the 5 percent he had achieved months ago. The air rattled, and Brock’s breathed out as the next command was issued.

His aura washed outwards, the surroundings darkening and flickering shadows casting themselves across the grass. The barest of whispers resounded in his ears. Brock flinched, memories coming back to him, but he remain calm, focusing on his next breath and the beat of his heart.

“Good. Once more.”

A grumble echoed from Brock’s left, and his eyebrow twitched, his focusing waning. A third presence accompanied him among the lush field, and although the man had practically begged Brock to bring him along, he had the gall to complain. Although, as it mostly seemed to be to himself, he let him entertain his own thoughts.

Ignoring his companion and following the instructions, Brock’s aura drifted out and then in to the tune of his breathing. Another grumble, this time an octave louder, reverberated, and Brock felt the man’s aura fluctuate slightly. But that was it. It was clear that he was struggling to obey the instructions.

Come on bro. It’s your first time trying, calm down.

He didn’t blame the man, however. It had certainly been a rather frustrating slew of affairs when he’d first begun practicing this. Though, as he cleared his mind and learned to calm both himself and what passed for an aura, he saw results. Huge ones.

They completed another round, and finally, the man snapped.

“Ok, I just can’t,” he got up in a flurry and cradled his head in a hand, “How the do you do it? We’re taking meditation tips from a monster! An Alpha, for Christ’s sake!”

Douglas gestured at the swirling form of the Sand Elemental and his hand twitched toward his hammer as it tilted its head at him, “Are you thinking straight after fighting that psychopath?! Sorry Brock, but what the hell is wrong with you?!”

Growling, Brock slowly inched open his eyes. When the remains of Adelaide – and by extension Meiyo, who were in constant contact with Ha-Eun – established a connection with Alice Springs, Brock had been overjoyed. Now… not so much.

Huffing a breath from his nose and glaring, he stood. His back let out a cacophony of cracks, and he felt his calm disturbed. Disgust and fear washed back into his mind, “Douglas. Zenoebah has been in KC for 2 months already, and he’s only been helping. If you don’t trust me, then you’re free to get the fuck out.”

Tears of blood dripped from the man’s eyes as Brock’s aura fell onto his head, and his knees buckled. Quickly, Brock caught himself and took a step back. This was the third time this week. He needed to get himself under control. Unless…

Unless…

Memories of a dark figure flashed in his mind. He cursed them and shoved them away.

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. Thing’s just haven’t been going well at Alice Springs lately. I’m stressed…” Douglas waved him off and began walking back to town. He’d been away from Alice Springs for a day too long anyway. James was dealing with all his duties in his stead, “I hope you have more success than I do, Brock.”

Following the events of three months ago, Brock had returned home, greeted his friends and family, and promptly left. The thought of being near them had left him physically ill. For a month, he travelled the mainland by his lonesome, finding people to help, Tyrants to kill, and civilisations to save.

He’d done anything to make him feel any less of a monster.

Using Jonathan – who’d recently moved to the protection of New Paris – Brock had once again visited the Source in Egypt. He’d been baffled to find that the Elemental was still alive and kicking it. Aware of the knowledge it possessed and convinced of its passivity, Brock offered it a home, and it accepted.

The transportation had been a day’s effort on the part of four different shadow scouts and their joint teleportation, but Zenoeba, as he’d revealed himself, now rested upon the verdant grasses that had begun to grow outside the walls of King’s Cavity. He quickly became the town’s ‘wise man’ and spiritual guide.

With the monster, the world’s knowledge of the Multiverse rapidly grew. New technology spawned in the wake of that knowledge, and humanity began to settle as they were satisfied that the era of the unknown was long gone.

“You’re healing. Slowly.” A rumbling voice brought Brock back to himself, “you as a being.”

He glanced at Douglas’ retreating back, “I am? I still feel… disgusting.”

Visions flashed across his vision. Dark limbs. The horrified face of a demon. Speed beyond anything he could run, even now. His knees buckled and he forced the memories away. He knew he couldn’t be haunted by them forever. He knew it.

“Emotions are not so simple as to settle in mere months, human.” The Elemental shrunk and his mass joined the earth, covering the grasses in sands. The patch he was standing on had long browned from repeated occurrences, “you hate yourself, and hate is not a feeling so easily resolved.”

Brock recoiled. I don’t hate mys… maybe… maybe I do?

He considered it. Disgust, dread, fear. Every time he wasn’t aura meditating, he felt a constant surge of them, all directed toward himself. Even three months after the incident, he still felt afraid to be around his friends and family, and they still had no idea why.

What if it happened again? What if they found out and were just as disgusted by him as he was? What if… what if they were afraid of him? The thought made him ill and it made him resent himself for being… well, who he was. What he could become.

“I never really… thought about it like that…” he mumbled.

A hum resounded. The sand of the Elemental spread further over the earth, “I understand. You are still dealing with how you feel about the world, and about your own race. If it’s any consolation, I have met an Error personally before – a young one – and it was mindless. Hungry. The epitome of insanity.”

The remaining mass crumbled and the winds slowed, “You are none of those. Go and rest. We can continue this tomorrow.”

Brock nodded, letting what had been said seep into his brain. Licking his lips, he bid the Elemental goodbye as it began slumbering once more, and he started toward the chasm. It had been… a while since he’d dared to visit it. Maybe it was time he faced his reality head on.

The sound of his feet slapping down on a fusion grass and cracked earth was the only sound that accompanied his own slow breaths. A lot had happened in the months since his fight with Zin Keene. For a while, he’d feared that the man would come back. But… he never did.

He glanced at the ring upon his finger. He had assumed the demon would be beside himself to return and take his item back. The only reason I took it was payment. The dick killed me…

Darkness. Forms. Cold. Visions assaulted him and Brock slapped himself. They disappeared. He huffed, “Fuck…”

In the distance, he spotted the chasm, and at the other end of it, the towering walls of King’s Cavity. Figures roamed along the ramparts, although it was more a formality than anything else. Among them Brock detected a handful of E Grades. They’d all passed the evolution trial and evolved their Ascendancies.

He felt a pang of jealously that people had begun to soar ahead of him, although he supposed power was never truly his goal. If he’d wanted to, he could have joined them.

For the past month, he’d been sitting at level 100 in his Ascendancy, yet… he’d never felt that desire to initiate the command that would take him to the realm the trial was held. He just didn’t want to pursue his power anymore. He’d helped people, he’d found his sister and brother, and now…

Now he just wanted to rest. To give himself time to deal with himself. With his death. With the lies and emotions. Everything.

The only boon he found in all this was that possessing an E Grade race allowed him to regenerate limbs. He glanced at the scarred flesh of his right arm. He felt auras from the wall lock onto him, and he sighed as he felt the fluctuations of excitement.

The Hero of Adelaide and the Guardian of Paris. The Great Slayer. Earth’s Angel. He had been given… a lot of names following Zin’s defeat. There was no hiding that a battle had taken place there, and with Genesis’ satellites and the videos they took, it wasn’t long before the footage was leaked across the higher ups of the globe.

Some chose to use it as propaganda toward power gain, while others lauded him as a hero, sharing it with their populations. Brock could only count his lucky stars that whatever power the dark figure had possessed, it had scrambled the visuals on every satellite viewing him. Unfortunately, though, the world had seen him die.

Which had spawned his most infamous moniker, the Undying Monster. It… certainly hadn’t helped his already horrific self-image. His current celebrity status was part of the reason he rarely left his house apart from his visits to Zonoebah. The other was a fear of himself.

For most things, Mio brought him what he needed. He could tell she was getting frustrated at his agoraphobia, but he was endlessly thankful that she understood. She was the only one he felt even a little calm around, with the whole ‘what if they find out’ part out of the way. The others had tried to visit him, but it was virtually impossible to get past his aura.

If his constant sessions with the Elemental had given him any power gain, it would have been in both his aura and Augments. Immensely. He felt the urge to check his status screen, but a memory of a single line stopped him. He didn’t want to see it there. Not again.

Eventually, his footsteps started echoing as he entered the outpost and strolled down the steps leading into the chasm. He sensed the auras of the newly instated Chasm-Miners approaching in the distance as they came back from their break, but they’d be around ten minutes. They liked to talk and liked to take their time even more.

Quickly, he began descending. Whispers erupted in his mind. As he got deeper, they became louder, more numerous. That was why he had left the first time. He gritted his teeth and continued.

Deeper and deeper he went. Past the distance he’d went with Fon and Harry and down into the darkness. As Erin’s powers grew, so did her ability to reinforce her constructs. Still, she needed to recreate them every few days, and Brock could already see signs of wear on them as he trekked. The whispers were deafening.

Ten minutes passed by, and he felt the auras of the miner’s flare with panic, having sensed his descent. They appeared to give desperate chase, afraid someone had wandered in accidentally, but a blast of Brock’s aura told them to stop. They obeyed. They didn’t move.

Each step took him further into darkness, until his knees shook, and his nose bled, a maelstrom of whispers tearing into his brain. His recent… transformation seemed to have made him far more resistant to the oppressive effects of the chasm, but still, he was struggling to go any further. Yet he didn’t stop.

He was almost at the bottom. His aura sonars told him. This was his creation, a nest of his power, and Brock’s ethereal heart was telling him this was where he needed to go, where he would find the solace he so desperately desired. And so, he forced himself onwards, even if death was what awaited him.

It beckoned him further, and further, even as his skin peeled under the pressure and his joints ached. Slowly, blood began to ooze from his pores as his veins were squeezed. Just a… little… furth-

A ringing resounded from his necklace and Brock blinked. The next second, his pain assaulted him and his mind returned, abruptly aware of the gap between his current step and the next that would have sent him plummeting downward. What the fuck… am I doing? I just wanted to confront the whispers.

Silently applauding Erin’s earth manipulation range, Brock scrambled back up the steps and his phone appeared in his hands. He glanced back at the darkness below. One day he would reach the bottom. One day, he would feel strong enough – mentally – to descend and reach it. One day.

Sighing, and itching at his peeling flesh, Brock looked at his phone screen and his heart tightened. It was Jane. Slowly, his finger pressed down on the accept button.

Her voice echoed within the darkness, accompanied only by the sound of his steps, “Hello? Brock?”

“…Yeah. What’s up?” his voice was quieter than he wanted it to be. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, mostly because Jane was in the process of her leadership training with Hiroto. It wasn’t long now before she was to succeed him.

A sigh resounded, “Brock… we need to talk.”

“…about what…?” he knew why, and despite never liking to ask the questions to answers he already knew, he couldn’t stop himself.

Silence followed. Then another sigh reverberated from the phone’s speaker, this one heavier. Mournful, “We need to talk about you, Brock. About why your so… agoraphobic and anxious. Mio tells me how you struggle to get out of bed, and how you’re just… dead. And… and…”

Dead. Images flickered through his mind. Darkness. Figures. Cold. He forced them away and kept walking. Brock responded only with his silence. He… didn’t want to talk about it all.

“…And we need to talk about mum.”

Brock’s chest tightened.