Shell of a Slayer

New World, Newer Dangers

The Foundling was never a creature that expresses emotion too often. Sometimes, it has the feeling of boredom. Other times curiosity, and rarely it ever expresses irritation or annoyance. With all the time loops and all the repeated ascensions, the Foundling knew almost every bit of information to the point where it knew every little nook and cranny of secrets. At this point, it visits Baghead more than once in its repeats for its sanity, if it even has one to begin with, with the occasional Impervious Lute it plays alongside him. It even got used to seeing Sester Genessa greeting the Foundling in various ways, knowing that it and she are the only ones aware of the endless cycle.

So when it woke up in an Unfamiliar cave, it looked around in confusion, wondering where it was. The Foundling, currently using the shell of Harros, moved at a slow pace, unsure of the pathing and the location. It continued trudging along the path as a faint light slowly grow with every step. The Foundling eventually reaches it, a hole leading to whatever is outside. It started crawling through it, unknowing and on guard. As it continued crawling, it senses something off, something clean. As if the air outside wasn't tainted.

When it exited the small hole, it was surprised to see a lush forest, untainted and full of life. Its gaze continued as it took in the sight of the beautiful landscape. That is until its gaze landed on a familiar face. Standing by a large tree was Sester Genessa, who was equally intrigued as the Foundling. It started walking towards her, hoping to know what had happened to them.

Genessa heard footsteps near her and turned around, only to see a familiar face, or rather, a Familiar helm, approaching her.

"Ah, Foundling," she greeted. "I see I'm not the only one that awoke to this strange land."

The Foundling tilted its head and pointed towards her.

"Me? How I got here?" she asked as the Foundling nodded. "Very well. After you ascended for the-" Sester Genessa paused as she tried recalling the amount of times the Foundling repeated the cycle. "Ah, the numbers don't matter. I've waited for you once again in the tower, as always. But you haven't shown up, which made me quite curious. I've traveled to other places you've previously been, even to go far as to visit your friend of yours, who I would say is quite friendly for a brigand. So, when I decided to visit you myself, I instead woke up in this strange plain."

The Foundling listened intently as Sester Genessa recalled her old Tale. After she finished her Tale, the Foundling's gaze shifted back to the lush areas of the forest, never seeing such beauty, nor never caring for said beauty. Yet, it did. Genessa followed its gaze as she too took in the sight of a beautiful nature she, admittedly, miss so much.

"A world without Nektar, without Glands," she muttered. "A world untainted by the evils of Mankind and their hubris. I have never imagined such a thing until now."

The Foundling nodded along as it felt an emotion. A feeling that it never experienced nor ever happened; Peace.

"Well," the Foundling heard Genessa striking up a conversation. "Since we are no longer in Fallgrim, let alone our world, what would you do, Foundling?"

The Foundling had no answer, not because it can't speak, but because it had no idea what to do next. For so long, it repeatedly completed the cycle over and over and over again. But, because it no longer is in its world, what should it do now?

"Your choice is up to you, Foundling," Sester Genessa said, as if she were reading its mind. "Wherever you go, whatever you would do, I wouldn't mind. I will simply watch over you and keep an eye out for you," she said, and it wouldn't take a genius to know that she is smirking underneath her mask.

The Foundling looked away from her as it continued looking at the terrain.

"Hmm, for now, I'll leave you to your own devices, seeing that I'm not needed here," she said. "Until next time, Foundling. We will meet again."