O-Id-090-03. Mimicry. A Corrupted that once shared the same Site as the Little Red Heart and escaped over a decade ago after the A-L7 disaster in H6. Its whereabouts were largely unknown, and it was responsible for numerous innocent lives to become detained, terminated or given extensive doses of Serum A.
But ever since the incident in H5 and its consequential elevation into a ‘Nightmare’, ARU O-Type finally had a lead. It seemed to have been following the trail of something, or heavens forbid, someone.
12 hours ago, there was a mysterious loss of low-grade ARU personnel in a particular area. The communication lines had victims recite their death throes over and over. This was a hallmark of Mimicry, and the ARU O-Type immediately recognized the pattern.
3 O-Types were sent first to assess the situation, entering the 10km wreckage zone of a fallen Eye. Twisted metal protruded from the grounded wood and brick like blades. Giant structures of steel groaned in the wind. Blood mixed with soil and debris, creating a foul stench as the group relayed every step taken forward, their senses honed to sense the slightest changes in the wind.
Each of them wore the same cut of cloth retrieved from a serpent-like Corrupted. Their weapons were staves, and their outfits were made from polished snakeskin, spun into a flexible, scaly suit of armor.
A green cloud emitted from the mouth of their snake-like staves, instantly corroding the materials caught within. Unlike regular ARU units, they did not need to wear civilian gear, for the Cognition Scramblers hid them from plain sight.
But it did not stop Corrupted from sensing them. Passages were made using the green, corrosive fog. Walls of steel and mangled wreckage gave way with little resistance. They could breathe this air without issue, thanks to the armor they donned. Even though they had no head or respiration protection, the Corrupted Items provided such benefits in their ever-enigmatic way.
“Forward O-Type Units. 5km in. Does the spotter have an eye on the Corrupted?”
One of the members spoke. A response came not a second later.
“O-Type Spotter. Center of the fallen Eye. A 2km hollowed area was untouched by the debris. I can see a mass of flesh with pale hair feeding on something. It’s inside of a luxury tavern that’s supposed to double as a brothel.”
Information was relayed so succinctly that a normal person would have been overwhelmed. Not to mention that there was major interference due to the presence of small traces of pale stones, which melded all lines together. They were tiny, but their influence was extraordinary to say the least.
Few of these stones were Cognition Receivers from slain ARU personnel, undoubtedly the doing of Mimicry. Eventually, they arrived at the lip of a crater where a largely ravaged town resides. The tavern sat in the middle, the slabs of black slate that made up the streets ploughed aside.
They prepared for combat. It was never known if Mimicry’s true threat level was O-White Monsoon, and they’d soon be the first to confirm this. It lurked within as the sound of crunching could be heard.
Through the windows they saw a red mass of flesh with many eyes feasting on the bodies of half-living corpses. The inhabitants of the town were gathered into one place, their legs turned into threads that tied them all together.
It strangely had pale hair, like that belonging to a healer. The creature in question was 2 meters in all dimensions, shaped like a lump of meat. It suddenly split itself down into the middle, revealing a grotesque column of teeth arranged like open ribs which scooped many into its maw, crying endlessly like a broken record:
“It’s an unprotected healer. No one’s going to think twice about a missing healer in the chaos.”
“Sell her to who? Not many clients are looking for a healer in these parts.”
“If she’s got the magic, then we’re rich! Surely, she can regenerate her fingers and teeth!”
“Not a bad face. But her organs might do better as materials for some fresh gold coins.”
“It’s ok. You can stay here with us. We’ll take care of you. Here. Just drink this. It’ll all be alright…”
“Don’t let the healer struggle. We need her if we want a better life after this apocalypse!”
The mangled shouts were intertwined with a pristine weeping coming from underneath the Corrupted. They had thought that Mimicry had taken the vague form of a healer because it had devoured one, but much to their shock….
… A dark-skinned girl with pale hair and sky-blue eyes clung loosely onto the flesh of the creature, tentacles wrapping her tightly as if to protect her.
This girl was a healer, and it was the only person Mimicry had spared out of hundreds. Its intentions were unknown, and as walls, rubble and earth were upheaved upon the arrival of the ARU Type-O Units, they could only assume that she would be next.
“Gambit teams are everywhere. Healers must have their synapse fluid extracted.”
“I don’t want to die here… Please don’t eat me…”
“… but did anyone – I’m sorry! – value the life of this warm light? – No- NO! NOOO! – It carries the same scent – STOP RUNNING! PLEASE COME BACK –! – As the same thing I’ve been searching for – A-ahaha… it’s… over... – for all this time. I just… – AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! – wanted to know – HELP MEEEEE! – What form I could take – My arms! Don’t eat them please! Let go of them! – So that they could smile at me – ITS TEETH! GAGH –! And stop running – My legs… are stringy… – She who wears black and gold – it’s all gone… my stomach… it’s all missing… – My perfect and ideal self – Give my brother back! Get out of his body –!”
It desperately tried to form something coherent out of thousands of final breaths it had stolen. But woven between its amalgamation of voices was its true voice. A wicked, vile, gargle that rose hairs along the backs of the ARU units.
This Corrupted was speaking to them.