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Royal Spirit Pouncer
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We start to move down the trench. I have a compass, so I can still determine which direction I need to follow in the absence of useful landmarks.
I wonder how Samael became the way he is.
“Samael, if it is not rude to do so, may I ask how you acquired that body?”
>”That's alright. I might have taken offence once, but I'm old now, and the outrage I feel now is just smouldering compared to how it once was. This is how I am, and I'm stuck this way forever. It was for the war. I was a soldier, a little bit like you, Mord, except that I was conscripted. If I understand correctly, that isn't something they do currently.”
I acknowledge it. In times of war, that changes, of course.
>”Well, I was conscripted for the great war. In attempts to further our chances at victory, they'd been working on some genetic modifications. They'd been made pretty common knowledge. A lot of the special forces guys were said to sport some basic modifications. Well, I was contacted one day, and they asked my if I wanted to undergo some genetic alterations. I was fairly young at the time, and the idea was exciting. I said yes, and they took me to a facility to have the modifications done. Apparently it took months, but they had me drugged up the whole time, so I don't remember anything about it.
>When it was over, I of course discovered that I hadn't been changed genetically. My body had been totally replaced with this machine that you see. It was a lie all along, and I was a guinea pig for them. Only my brain is still human, and that is augmented a huge amount as well. I became outraged, but I was powerless. What was I to do? Kill my creators? I would have been taken apart, so grudgingly, I fought in their battles. I killed hundreds of people during that war. A lot of it was a blur, and there are holes in my memory. I think they used to disable me between battles. Maybe for their own safety, I dunno. Anyway, one time I got lost. I don't remember much, but I was alone for a long time, maybe years. Nobody came looking for me.”
He laughs to himself.
>”I still hunger for revenge, but I think I've missed my chance. The people who made me are probably dead alr--”
There is a noise down the path somewhere. Standing silently, we listen. It sounds like laboured breathing, accompanied by some scratching, picking.
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