Undead Creation

With the day gone by and night shrouding the sky in darkness, Theodore was once again alone in his room. While the plan to obtain the seeds of the Dandelion Mandragora had already been decided, Theodore could not yet feel the reality of it.

Theodore felt as if he was still in a dream, as if at any moment now, he'll wake up back at the temple in that small room shared by three people. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. He knew well enough that this was his reality; he simply did not wish to face it if he could help it.

(If I'm caught, not only will I be damned, I might bring Fiana into it as well, won't I?)

He was terrified of the consequences of failing. In fact, the fear that he might have already been discovered from the get-go haunted his every waking moment and occasionally his dreams. Theodore was as careful as he could be, limiting his more suspicious activities within the confines of this room. With his senses and sensitivities with Aether, he was sure that no one had probed the room with their Aether sense while he was working on something. Even so, there were those that could avoid his detection and bypass his barriers. If that were to happen, then his plan would have been revealed from the start.

What's more, if Albatross turned out to be someone sent to watch him, someone incredibly proficient in acting, then he might have already dug his grave without realizing it.

One wrong step, be it made knowingly or not, and Theodore might find himself in an interrogation room the next time he wakes up. Such thoughts made him wish that he could have just played the part of an obedient prisoner, to never do anything out of line or carry the slightest risk. Yet, Theodore refused to remain powerless. He refused to be at the mercy of others.

Perhaps this was, in part, Eliza's influence. She was the old clergywoman that took care of him alongside Maria. She was a free-spirited woman, a person who lived as she pleases and encouraged Theodore to do the same. 'In the end, one can only follow their heart and do what they think is best,' she said those words to Theodore once.

Theodore took a deep breath and calmed his anxious mind. He had made his choices. He had taken what he believed to be the best options before him. The only thing left to do was to see it through.

"Time to get to work," Theodore muttered, urging himself on.

***

The creation of an undead is a simple matter, requiring only a sizable piece of crystallized Aether and a corpse of varying freshness. Once the necessary ingredients were gathered, one may begin with the creation of a 'behavioral matrix'.

The first step in creating a behavioral matrix is to imprint one's will into the crystallized Aether. In this world, all sentient life had been granted the allowance of imprinting their will upon Aether. While there were those whose very blood reject Aether, they were few and far between.

Different from the Aether that resides within one's body, a crystallized Aether will typically show resistance against the imprinting. However, given time, the resistance can be broken down, allowing the crystallized Aether to accept new instructions different from the source it was plucked from.

In Theodore's case, as the crystals in his possession were taken from his own body, they showed no such resistance and allowed Theodore to bend it to his whims with ease.

Inserting his threads of Aether into the crystal, Theodore began to imprint his will into the crystal, weaving together various instructions to inform the behavior of the Aether that made up said crystal, thus the name 'behavioral matrix'.

In a sense, it could be said that he was implanting a small part of his mind into the crystal. And who was more skilled in such an act than the Demon Lord himself, a being that had repeatedly entrusted his memories, his experiences, and his will upon bodies of Aether, interwoven in a way that said bodies of Aether could possess their own sapience.

Though he was not granted any special abilities nor any beneficial alterations to his Aether-form, Theodore had all of the Demon Lord's memories and experiences. For this reason, he was supremely confident in his ability to create an undead that was reliable enough to steal something under the mages' noses.

In a mere couple of hours, Theodore had completed the behavioral matrix. A few tests still needed to be run to affirm its functions and reliability, but for the most part, the framework was complete.

Usually, he would only have to insert the crystal into the mouse's body and adjust it to be compatible with the vessel. However, for it to fit with his plan, the mouse's body had to be extensively modified, to the point that he was going to have to tear it apart and put it together again.

Sat upon the floor, Theodore carefully began his work. Even as Peter slumped against his side and began to snore softly, Theodore resisted the urge to extend his hand to caress the soft fur. He had to be careful not to damage the part he needed intact as he removed everything unnecessary from the body. The majority of the organs had already been removed earlier in the day as those would be the first things to rot, leaving the trickiest parts to remove, the bones, to be worked on.

As he made his modifications, Theodore had the most bizarre feeling. What he was doing was morbid and repulsive, at least, he certainly felt that way. Yet, it was he who came up with this idea in the first place.

His thoughts had been colored by the Demon Lord's memories, yet, said memories were distant. They were a part of him, but at the same time, not entirely his. As Theodore made progress, however, he became more and more comfortable as he took apart the corpse, the memories that used to be distant became closer and closer to him as the line between 'Theodore' and the 'Demon Lord' began to blur.

This phenomenon had occurred many times in the past, when the 'Demon Lord' and 'Theodore' gradually came closer and closer to becoming one and the same. No, it might be more accurate to say that 'Theodore' was slowly being consumed by the 'Demon Lord'. Or, perhaps there never was a Theodore, there had only been the Demon Lord, 'dreaming' that they were someone else and was slowly being roused from their slumber.

Such thoughts planted a fear in Theodore's mind, a fear of no longer being 'himself'. If he were to continue down this path, what would happen to him? Theodore couldn't help but fear what the future holds.

Even so, he refused to stop. Though his thoughts were undoubtedly colored by the Demon Lord's memories, he knew that if he wished to grasp his future with his own two hands, he cannot stop.

***

End of Chapter 54

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