Shapeless Hero

55 - Recollected

My eyes snap open. A familiar ceiling greets me. I never thought I would see it again.

I'm surrounded by shelves filled with colorful cardboard boxes. The white noise of an air conditioner and the smell of cleaning chemicals fade into my perception - a stark contrast to those last handful of days in Tyllat. "Yup, that's her shop."

Still on my back and in a daze, I grab a vibrant cardboard box from the closest shelf. It's the cover art of a sharp shooter simulation. Hold on... this came out years ago. I check the back for a release date, but the letters and numbers are unreadable.

I stand up with a clumsiness that I hoped would never return after becoming a shifter. Once on my feet, it's clear I'm not an arctic fox-kin anymore, but returned to my early, marble-like form.

I peek over the top of the handful of shelves and spot the nostalgic game posters covering the wall behind the store counter. Those seem all out of date though... wait, is this a...

"A memory, yes.", completes a baritone voice from behind. I spin around. It's the giant I met in the vision during my imperial oath ritual. He starts laughing. My confusion must have shown.

The giant barbarian picks a video game from the top shelf nearby. He flips the packaging a few times while taking in the printed-on colors and texts.

I watch the out-of-place man peruse the isles until my situational awareness finally decides reactivate. "Wait, why am I here anyway? What's going on?"

"If you were anything but a shifter, you would be dead, but instead, the uncharred remains of your body are slowly reconnecting and recovering. Reminds me of some of those scif-fi horror creatures I've seen a shelf over."

"Gods, I'm a monster..."

"You certainly are, hehe. Ooh, I recognize this one!" The giant points towards a poster. It's for the game from which I borrowed the lady with hair-based attacks.

"Why can't I read the letters though?", I ask.

"Because it's in the writing system of your old world. Your languages changed on the way here, but not the writing within your memories."

So, he knows about me.

"Well, I know about soul transfers in general, at least. I have no idea why you're a shapeshifter or any other specifics."

"P-please stop reading my mind."

He smirks. "I'll try."

"And why are you here? Are you some weird fragment of my memories too?"

"In my experience, the death of an imperial oath-bearer is seldom an accident. It's usually an omen of what's to come, so I prefer to know why a subject of my Imperium found their demise."

"...your subject?"

He grins. "Yes. It's my Imperium you're a part of. Oath and all."

I merely nod, my mind too occupied for words.

It relieves me that I survived Rev's destructive chains, but what's up with my "uncharred remains"? Did Rev try to burn me like an alien egg?

"Did yo find anything of interest?" I ask. "Was my almost-death worth the visit?"

The giant scratches his head. "Not the killing attempt itself, but your circumstances are insightful. Didn't think Lyomin would fall into the wolf-kin faction's hands so quickly..."

"I thought it was stopped by Liszka's disappearance."

"Hm, not for long. And my highest underling is already overworked, so I'm not sure he'd be able to handle that on top of everything else..."

Arms crossed and eyes closed, he ponders. A few heartbeats later his eyes open. "Fylka, I have a 'quest' for you. A quest, only a very adaptive and hard to kill abomination like you could take on."

"Thanks?"

"The emperor has enough to do. How about you ease his work-load and 'go ham' in Lyomin with that Liszka."

He definitely learned that phrase from one of the video game boxes. "I already planned to. Do I get any benefits?"

"Imperial nobles can't kill people on a whim, especially when in a foreign country, where such cases cause international incidents. Something like that is a detriment to the Imperium, therefore a break of the oath. You on the other hand, will have my blessing to disrupt, yet not be punished by the oath you swore."

My back feels suddenly cold. Were I to travel to Lyomin no wiser than now, I would've incinerated myself there the moment I tried to cause mischief. I bow. "I accept your quest."

"Good. I think you've got about ten minutes before, your mind returns."

Nothing else to do, I wander the few isles in the shop, while reminiscing over the games and books that are displayed here in pristine condition.

[ Shape registered. ]

[ Shape registered. ]

[ Shape registered. ]

I stop for a moment. Wait, where are three boxes coming from?

I take another look at the shelf of games I just went through. A thesis forms in my mind. Remembering the game characters from the cover art alone spurts my memory. Is that really enough for the Morphing skill?

I go to the next shelf and this time, I count how many characters return to my memory.

[ Shape registered. ]

[ Shape registered. ]

Two characters, two messages. It adds up. With that in mind, I keep looking at all sorts of items in the shop. More of the messages appear with every video game character I remember.

The ringing of a bell announces the opening of the shop's entrance. I see her crimson hair, I hear her steps. She looks younger than the last time I saw her. My eyes water, my legs move.

"I hate to say this, but you recovered. It's time." Says the imperial giant. "Good luck out there."

"No! Just let me talk a moment to-"

###

The blinding light fades. I return to a charred back alley, incense sticks still burning.

"Fuck me, finally! Slept well princess?", a familiar crow greets. He looks bigger than I remember.

"Blerp."

"I don't speak grey goo. Mind taking a shape with vocal cords?"

I examine myself. All that's left of me is a ball about the size of a humanoid head. I sift through a few shapes, but most of them are too big. I try to shape myself into August, but to my surprise, his shape would take insane amounts of mana.

I decide to go with rock partridge for now. I've seen dozens of them when entering the "tutorial"-dungeon. My morphing skill accepts the intention of change and my gelatinous grey turns into a feathery grey.

"Better?", I ask.

"Oh, much better! Now I don't feel like I'm talking to a slime."

"Do you know where Liszka is? Is she...?"

"No clue, I only found that elf guy. Looks like it didn't go well for him, though."

I follow August's gaze. There hangs Rev, sliced and pierced countless times, fixed to the wall by several blades that definitely belong to the wolf-kin assassins. My apetite for flesh flares up.

"Your furry friend probably booked it while they decorated the back alley with the elf and his bodily fluids.", August adds.

"If they won against Rev, she's still in danger. We need to find her!" I launch myself upward as fast as I can.

"Right behind you."