332. A More Palatable Mimicry

There was a sudden stalemate between them. With the situation regarding the dwindling number of healers, rescuing one alive had also become of utmost priority. It seemed like they would attack at any moment, but Mimicry did not react like it had done to the past ARU personnel.

Rather, it was as though it were waiting for these specialized ones.

Soon, a dozen of them arrived at the scene, surrounded by a writhing Mimicry as they mentally communicated, trying to figure out the best method to approach the situation. Their usual fast, relentless, and calculated strikes were forfeited for this one moment.

“W-Wait… wait…!” The healer cried, catching them off guard.

Why would a healer want them to wait?

Did she not want to be saved now?

“Don’t attack it! Don’t hurt it anymore! It saved me! Please believe me!” She exclaimed, holding both hands out to dissuade them.

Unbeknownst to them was that the healer and the tentacles covered a large wound in the side of the creature, to which the healer attempted to mend much to the shock of the others.

“Do you understand that you’re in the presence of –!”

“I-I understand! I know! S-Sorry but I can’t just leave it to die after it saved me!” She cried with surprising initiative rarely seen in healers. “I was… T-This place – people tried to capture me. B-But it saved me from them!”

Mimicry trembled, and the healer immediately resumed tending to its wounds, caring little of its fleshy, bloodied body. Although, the sight of death that surrounded her made her queasy. She knew that the creature she tended to was a natural born killer; an abomination that feasted on the living, but healers in general could never leave the injured behind, no matter what.

Mimicry purposefully maimed them enough to prevent the healer from saving them. But there was also a deadly air that surrounded the healer.

It felt like even without Mimicry’s intervention, she would not have healed those people. What were supposed to be gentle eyes despised the dead for she knew what they would have done to her.

None could suspect her of being a false healer either, for she showcased her magic for all to see.

“Please step away from the Corrupted! That is a Monsoon Risk-Classed Corrupted! You will comply or we’ll have to use force!” The leading Operator threatened. “Multiple of our personnel have been killed in the last 12 hours by it. We will NOT allow you to stand between us and 090-03!”

“Was Mimicry capable of mind control?”

Chatter over the Cognition Receivers resumed as tensions escalated.

“No known records. That healer’s becoming bothersome. What do you suggest we do, Operator? Healers don’t die easily.”

“With the Ateliers in this state? We don’t need another war. But circumstances call for immediate action. We cannot lose Mimicry again.”

It seemed that at any moment a bloodbath would break loose.

“But that Corrupted spoke to us, didn’t it?”

“Does that matter? There’s plenty Corrupted that can speak. That doesn’t make them capable of understanding. No such Corrupted exist. Think about your roots. Think about how many friends you’ve seen get churned by them on the Sites. What makes this one so different from a bear storing a meal for later?”

“Do you suggest we attack right away?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

A single voice rang from behind the ARU personnel, binding them in place as their bodies froze solid. A deadly chill ran down their spines. Every hair rose, and their blood ran like ice. A collective thud could be heard as their hearts sunk to their bowels.

A presence unlike any other overwhelmed their senses, destroying their fight or flight response.

Footsteps approached. The debris crunched as a figure clad in a heavy coat passed by, accompanied by silent, red-haired individuals each bearing bloodied wounds. The figure was a brown-skinned woman, who bared horns that mimicked the ears of a fox. They were black, and carried streaks of white much like their long hair which enshrouded their face.

She was hunched over, to the point where her fingers drifted along the ground.

Behind those strands of hair was a single golden eye. The sclera was a deep, inky black.

This person was a Demon.

“From what woods did you come out from?” She sniffed the air, arching her back as the loose hair brushed aside, revealing the Demon’s subtle smile. “To think a scent so familiar would find itself in our palms. Act X is frightening. But the White Wing is equally as mischievous. A shame that she’s changed for the worst.”

Her heavy coat was black, the collar raised to her chin. Underneath her coat was a dress fitted with many meaningless pockets containing nothing. She walked sluggishly like a decrepit, animated corpse. No boot was raised higher than 5 centimeters. They practically dragged along the ground, marking her presence as the ARU forces fell into an uncanny lull.

“Old World Angels, am I correct? Those primordial souls have not learned to accept what has and what will be. Uncontent, they seek for what may. I can sense it in you. Life. A soul. A mind aware of its existence…” The Demon hushed, speaking agonizingly slowly.

“A familiar scent…?” Mimicry’s voice spoke clearly in the presence of this woman.

Somehow, she lulled the competing voices to a permanent sleep with her presence alone. On her shoulder was an insignia of a snake devouring its own tail, bearing the words ‘Oboros Infinitas’, and above it was the word ‘Sloth’.

“That you are. A shame I was given little time to assess the names that man had written down. A surprise that ‘Mimicry’ is a written name. Proof that you are an ‘individual’. That you are capable of thought. A Corrupted with a mind is a charming thing. Such a useful… asset to make life a breeze for those who live word by word, not page by page or book by book.”

“… do you know where I can find the person with this familiar scent?” Mimicry wanted nothing else, curious by the knowledge of this woman. Every other word was ignored by it, musing the Demon as she blinked, sending her two Scarlet Healers to tend to the Corrupted.

They essentially moved forward, desperate to heal such a monstrosity. To fill the gap that the healer could not.

“There are more warm ones…”

“New Age Angels are as lovely as New Age Demons. But I digress. ImpulseWorks employees. Oboros Infinitas has taken authority of your… ‘mission’. Please resume collecting the Corrupted. There may be useful individuals amongst them.”

“M-Ma’am… W-With… All… Due respect…” The Operator tightened a grip around his chest, his eyes pried wide open, unblinking as the Demon stood still.

“Ma’am?” She questioned.

“I… I’m sorry. I don’t know your name…”

She turned to face him, lurching her face forward close enough where it would seem like they would kiss. Her scent was intoxicating, and so was his; the scent of terror. A trinket hung around the Demon’s neck made a sound akin to that of water filling an empty jug.

That black, circular device which saw 7 distinct symbols along its rims was a Nex Accumulator.

“Does it matter? Go to sleep, little one.”

She blew her breath into his face, and at once, she fell into a deep sleep whilst standing on both legs.

“The vice of sloth thrives in all. Your stagnation as mere ImpulseWorks slaves is pitiful. Lay him beneath a dream catcher. He will require one.” The Demon uttered before her attention returned to Mimicry. “You wish to see the Amalgam.”

“The Amalgam…?”

“The Black Dove.”

“The Black Dove?”

“The Archetype of Amalgamation.”

“Archetype…”

“They who were once Sinder.”

“… why does my ideal self possess so many identities?”

“Why do you express so many separate selves?”

“Because I can only take form of what I assimilate.”

“Funny… Almost hilarious.” The woman smiled. “Then do you seek to become an enemy of the Amalgam? We were given specific instructions. Very specific orders to not cut against the grain of the Amalgam. Do you understand?”

Her tone insinuated a threat that Mimicry failed to pick up on. Somehow, Mimicry was a pure soul, wanting but one thing:

“I seek to become like them.”

“Mimicry mimicking the Amalgam. An aspect of the light wishing to return to the originator. Fractured, but it could work. Like a Faux Angel. But less egregious. What if I told you that I could bring you to your ideal self?”

“… I would be happy.”

“But how can you assume such a self when you are nothing but an amalgamation of many?”

“Then I will become one… a form… I ate an evil Angel. I can take that form…”

Slowly, Mimicry’s body shrunk in size as the Demon approached them. The healer and Scarlet Healers had finished tending to it, and they backed off Mimicry’s body silently crackled into a humanoid shape.

Suddenly, the Demon removed the gloves from one hand. Sporadic, frayed hair became smoother than silk. Milky skin was worn on the naked, feminine body of the Corrupted. And finally, when their eyes opened, they revealed a pair of crimson irises, humoring the Demon.

“Red eyes… just as the possession warning was so long ago.” She offered her hand, and Mimicry took it with clumsy hands and sunk their teeth into it without a second thought.

It never crossed its mind that it was a gesture to lend a hand. To help it stand. It shocked the healer but elated the Scarlet Healers as the Demon simply allowed Mimicry to feast on her hand.

A pair of horns then suddenly grew on Mimicry’s head, giving her the appearance of a Demonic healer.

“W-Will you be ok?” The healer asked, half panicking.

“Primordial Demons are immortal. We who have fallen so far from those great heights. Us who have lost our wings. But we still are a part of that light, however vaguely it is.”

The flesh of her hand never seemed to run out, feeding Mimicry until its body finally became complete enough to be called a ‘her’.

“It’s a curse. No thanks to a certain other mangled being who neither qualifies as one of us, or one of them. No… they’re not part of the light. They’re a taint. A rot. A darkness to overshadow it…” Her words were always spoken with a small frown, but seeing Mimicry eat her hand like a tamed dog caused her lips to curve into a smile again.

“Will you bring me to the Amalgam?” Mimicry demanded, rather than asked.

The Demon’s smile grew wider.

“For the sake of restoring this wretched place, it is in our best interest to have a power like yours on our side. I wonder how the Amalgam will wish to tame you. Whatever the case may be –

– Infinite burdens await in this city’s restoration.”