Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) (63 page)

The crowd flowed on either side of him as he marched to
his destination. They jeered or cheered as suited them. When he arrived at the trunk,
the scientists there were glad to see him. One of them hugged and thanked him.

“I haven’t been able to experiment on sapient humans since
the Conversion War.”

“You’re welcome,” Nolien said. “I wanted to make a grand
contribution to the world of medicine, and here I am making it, but not in the
way I intended.” He laughed bitterly.

His final destination was the Medical Mana Mutation lab.
The pit was empty. The four lasers were dormant and waiting. Off in the corner
was a privacy screen and Nolien was told he could change over there. Taking off
his noble finery, he put on a simple and cheap robe. The only thing he kept was
his staff and its sling.
Nunnal awaited him at the pit's edge.

“This is your last chance to back out.”

Nolien grabbed his staff for strength. This was the same
staff he received from his parents when he became a mage. Aside from his
medallion, it was the only thing he brought with him when he ran away from
home. Now it was the only thing he had left. It hummed in response.

“I’m not here to fulfill my own will but someone else’s.”

“Very well.” To her crew, she shouted, “Start the lances!”
Then she spun back around and pointed at the privacy curtain. “His clothing is
off-limits! Anyone that steals from him is getting thrown in there with him.
Understand?”

“Yes, Director,” they all chorused.

The four Lances of Ciaphas hummed to life as they were
switched on. They sparked with highly charged and concentrated mana. Nolien
stared at the spot where they converged and where he would jump.

“Do you have any last words?” 

“If I do not survive this, then I pray to Lady Chaos that
another will because of me.”

With that, he jumped into the pit. Nunnal gave the signal
and the four lasers fired. They struck him simultaneously and, at once, he
began to change.

The screaming was horrendous. From his head to his toes,
every part of his body was shifting at the genetic level. All of them sent
contradictory messages to his brain, which was also shifting, and thus distorting
them further. The result was a nightmarish sensory overload. He thrashed,
shrieked, laughed, sobbed, and curled up, only for fresh changes to rip through
him.

“MUTATION FUNDAMENTAL!” Nunnal shouted with a flourish of
her arms.

Nolien grew scales, which became fur, which became metal plates,
which became cotton and multiple others. His head elongated, twisted, compressed,
and grew features changing too quickly to note. His limbs cycled through every
variety known to elves and then several more. He became bigger and then smaller
and stretched out. With each change, mana bled out of him to be absorbed by the
pit, which would contain him when the process was complete. When at last his
form settled, the human known as “Nolien Yani of Heleti” was no longer inside
the pit.

“TRANSFIGURATION FUNDAMENTAL!”

There was no mistaking the joy in Nunnal's voice or on her
face.

It was a horse-like creature. There was sleek blue fur
over most of its body with scales across the underbelly and left-right flank.
Pockets of vegetation grew here and there along its form. A single falcon wing
grew out of its left side and dragged along the ground. Three legs were thick
and hooved. The fourth and fifth were somewhat thinner and terminated in bird-like
talons. A horn on its forehead shone like silver. Its eyes shone red.

 “A new breed….Fantastic!”

 Shakily, it rose to its feet. Sensing the flesh above the
pit’s rim, it jumped, only to fall because it only used two legs. Standing up
again, it tried to run, only to trip over itself. The sounds it made were
atrocious; a neigh and a roar mixed together and cranked up to eleven on four
pitches.

“His insides are still settling. Continue observation.”

“Yes, Director.”

The monster attempted to move a third time and managed a
slow walk. It walked straight into the wall and reacted violently. Light and
mana gathered at its horn and a beam fired at the obstruction, only to be
absorbed by it and redirected into the gravity field. Its legs collapsed and it
fell hard to the floor. There was a crunch of bone and a neigh of pain, even as
the damage mended itself.

Nunnal watched it all gleefully. Abruptly, her joy cooled.

“Someone get Meza over here. I want him to see his
handiwork.”

“Yes, Director.”

When the leader of the Elven Preservation Society arrived,
he gazed upon the new monster with interest. He watched it struggle and fall,
and the abilities it displayed. He paid special attention to the horn and its
behavior.

“Back when humans lived in caves, did they not use unicorn
horns to purify water?”

“Yes, but only those clans lucky enough to acquire one.”

“Then I say we have done the boy a favor. He is now the
living embodiment of that which he wishes to be; a rare healer wanted by all.”

The other elves present sent him disgusted looks, but
Nunnal nodded in agreement.

“That is in line with chaotic doctrine. The
Elven Tome
says ‘Lady Chaos gives blessings in boxes made of curses.’”

“Then we agree. When can testing begin? I wish to prove to
our human counterparts that we have truly mutated the heir of one of their four
great noble houses.”

Nunnal smacked him. “If you talk like that during the
Summit, you’ll cause an incident. You may be the Ordercrafter Killer, but these
people are not ordercrafters and we are not at war.”

“Not yet,” Meza said, “but once they see our civilization,
they will be.”

“You know, talk like that is why you still don’t have a
wife.”

Meza blushed. “I’m married to my job! A number of my
followers have expressed interest, but I don’t have time. From going to and fro
on the earth and from walking up and down it, I search for illicit ordercraft.
It takes a special sort of woman to follow that sort of lifestyle.”

A lightning bolt shot by his head, just missing his ear,
and struck a piece of machinery behind him. It exploded and two aides doused
the ensuing fire. Nunnal and Meza returned their attention to the pit, where
the monster was firing more bolts from its horn. They bypassed the shield as if
it weren’t there.

“Recalibrate the shield now!”

“Working on it!”

Screens of light above the monster flashed, then it
stopped the bolts like everything else the monster threw at it. Nunnal joined
the elf at the terminal for the shield and looked over the readings for the
last five bolts.

“A-Guy, did he do what I think he did?”

“Yes, Director. Instead of electricity formed from mana, he
generated the bolts from earthly electron activity.”

“Monster intelligence is a fascinating subject. Add this
to the database.”

“Yes, Director.”

“B-Guy, begin analysis of the monster’s insides, but use
something that’s least likely to cause damage. That’s still Nolien Heleti in
there, after all.”

“Yes, Director.”

“C-Guy, take samples for later chemical examination and
treatment. I want hair, scales, feathers, blood, and saliva. If you can get a
shaving of the horn, do that too.”

“Yes, Director.”

“D-Guy, prepare fodder so we can see how he reacts to
prey. Unicorns typically aren’t carnivorous, but given that this is a new
breed, I want to know for sure.”

“Yes, Director.”

“E-Guy, start up the durability test implements.”

“Yes, Director.”

As Nunnal continued giving orders and rambling theories,
her minions sighed and went about their work. The director was always like this
when she got excited. It was best to keep one’s head down and avoid attracting
attention.

“Just once, I’d like her to remember our names,” Bealir
muttered.

“I’m not even a guy,” Caluly moaned.

Such tests and more were performed to learn about this new
monster. As each result came in, Nunnal giggled like a schoolgirl in
anticipation. As she became more involved, she stopped referring to the monster
as “him” and instead as “it.” Then F-guy smacked her and told her of her slip.
She coughed and thanked him and then walked to the pit and apologized to the
monster. It responded by exhaling poison gas. The barrier adapted to the new
material and forced it back to the monster, but before the monster could
breathe it in, its horn neutralized the poison. Nunnal’s face lit up once more
and she rattled another list of orders.

Then she jumped in.

“Hello, Second Duke Heleti.”

The monster jabbed her forehead with its horn. It pierced
her head and her brain, causing a good deal of pain. Her Seed of Chaos mended
the damage. The light of her eyes never dimmed.

“So you don’t respond to your title.” She dodged three jabs.
“How about Nolien?” She dodged two more jabs but not the following energy
blast. She let that one hit to determine what it felt like. “Concentrated. You
know your stuff.”

It breathed more poison and she took a deep whiff of it.
She continued dodging and observing it at close range while waiting for the
poison to take effect. Then, all of a sudden, she blacked out and her body fell
limp. The creature bit her stomach and chewed on its muscle. Then she blew it
away with a chant-less wind spell.

“Poison that goes directly to the brain and shuts it down,
thereby killing the target without damaging the internal organs or muscles. You
are a healthy eater, aren’t you?”

She jumped to her feet.

“It also lends support to the theory that you can’t handle
your own poison, but there
are
monsters like that. Generally, they don’t
live long enough to be studied but—”

Another horn blast cut her off, and to her surprise, it
was neither mana nor the pure electricity but wind. It blew Nunnal clear off
her feet and onto her backside. The monster stomped its front right hoof onto
her stomach and the front left talon onto her left wrist, then it spat slime
onto her right hand. It quickly hardened and Nunnal found herself unable to remove
it.

“Battle tactics? Fantastic! D-Guy, are you getting this?”

“Yes, Director.”

The monster lowered its head to bite her chest, forgoing
any kind of attack to her head. This fascinated her all the more; it remembered
that attacking her head merited no results. She spirit-flared the creature off
her, broke the slime restraint, and jumped out of the pit.

“It’s possible that the battle instinct of a mercenary
carried over,” she said to herself. “Indeed, muscle memory is a potent thing
and well recognized in monsterology, even among mortals, and the capacity for
killing is a primal one….”

“It could be that his mind remains unchanged,” Meza said.
“You are the one who gave the order for the mutation, so he might bear a
grudge. I suggest waiting three days for the remainder of his sense of self to
vanish. Then send his former teammates inside.”

Back at the Universal Embassy, Nolien’s friends and family
awaited news. As far as they knew, Nolien would be returned to normal shortly.
That was the deal and they clung to it. Thus, when an aide announced Meza’s
decision, they responded with rage.

“That was not the agreement!” Mebalos bellowed. “How dare
you change it!”

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Your Grace,” the aide said
with his hands raised. “The decision was made by Meza and he won’t be satisfied
until we wait. We've prepared rooms for all of you and you are still welcomed
to them.”

“I’d certainly like a rest,” Hailey said. “I hope you have
enough for all of us because the transgender warrior requires privacy.”

“Who are you calling transgender, Tent!?”

Hailey covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. I
assumed from your difficulty in choosing an outfit that you were conflicted.”

Tiza lunged. “I’ll show you conflict!”

Hailey ducked the punch and palm-struck her stomach. Tiza
twisted away from it and jabbed at her face. Again, Hailey blocked and
countered, which Tiza grabbed. Before she could launch a third attack, Eric
pulled her away. Hailey ignored Tiza’s death threats and inspected her
manicured hands.

Kurami exhaled wearily. "Hailey, don't insult our
guest. Tiza, don't maul my daughter." It was automatic, Eric noted. “Could
you please put them in separate rooms?”

“Certainly, Lady Heleti.”

The aide showed them to the sleeping area of the embassy
and each went to their own rooms. Once the doors closed, each was left with
their own thoughts.

Eric tried to think positively. He had recovered from mana
mutation and so had Kallen. The elves were far ahead of human technology and so
Nolien’s recovery was guaranteed. Thanks to his sacrifice, many more could
expect such a recovery. Even so, the core of his conscience whispered, “Threat.
Threat. Threat.”

Kallen mired in angst about her role in the tragedy. It
happened because Nolien was critically injured while fighting minions of Order
during an attack orchestrated by Lunas. He was yet another person who suffered
because of her failure on that fateful day years ago. One thought repeated
itself over and over: “I can fix this. Just like everything else, I can fix
this. I just have to become The Chaos Avatar.”

The two Darwosses couldn’t care less about Nolien. His
weakness nearly cost their family its chance at redemption, but it also gave
the elder a chance to strike back at his queen for twisting his arm in the
first place. Thus, they didn’t fear for his condition or take joy in it. They
were simply focused on ensuring that the rest of the meeting was a success.

Mebalos and Kurami were trying not to fall into a state of
mourning. As the premier healers for their country, they saw many cases of mana
mutation, both subtle and gross. Ever since Nolien had come out of the womb,
mana mutation was one of the fears at the back of their minds. Now it had happened
and they had let it happen because of politics. To keep an open mindset, they
brainstormed new products for detecting ordercraft and its
geis
.

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