blood lust

Step… step… another step.

Derek dragged his heavy feet through the sand, each movement a monumental effort. The pristine sun beat down from above, far more luminous and scalding than he expected any sun to be. He was beginning to yearn for the dim yellow bulb of Earth's sky.

Derek was being literally cooked inside his metallic armor. His breath came in ragged gasps, his throat parched and burning. He tried to breathe simultaneously through his nose and mouth, but the air felt like steam, searing his lungs. He stared out as far as the visor of his helmet allowed, and the landscape remained desolate. There were a few outcroppings of decrepit structures dotting the horizon, but other than that, there seemed to be nothing... at least, on the surface.

"Hey, Mace, how many days has it been?"

"It's barely been three days, weakling," the mace replied, schadenfreude dripping from its tone. "Mind you, this is just the beginning of the journey, and the only reason you're still alive is that I took you through the safest routes," it added.

"Safe!?" Derek yelled, the words scorching his throat. "You call that safe? I've spent the better part of the last three days running from one monster straight into another!"

"How is that my fault that you're too weak?" the mace retorted.

"Just shut the fuck up, man!" Derek snapped, yanking the helmet off his head and tossing it into the sand, along with the mace. Then, he collapsed, crumpling into the sand himself. He didn't even have the strength to be angry at the mace or bicker with it. He was tired, famished, and weary. He wanted nothing more than to rest.

He thought he wouldn't need sustenance like food and water in this realm, but he had been painfully wrong. The pangs of hunger never left him and everything he'd tried to eat was either inedible, poisonous, or both. And the mace wasn't helpful in that aspect either, because, apparently, its "master" hadn't required sustenance for centuries.

Derek offered up silent curses, punctuated by his heavy breaths. The brief moment of respite felt like heaven, and his heavy eyelids began to drift shut, even the burning sand beneath him did nothing to stop it.

"How many times do I have to tell you that unless you're in a settlement, if you sleep… you might very likely wake up in the Other Realm, in the flesh of a newborn baby! Of all the Converts that spawn in this realm, only ten percent survive, and almost half of the ninety percent that perish are slain in their sleep!"

Despite the mace's facade of nonchalance, it knew all too well that if it wanted to find its master, it needed Derek alive. That had been the only reason Derek hadn't fallen asleep in the last three days: the mace's constant nagging reminders of the dangers of sleep.

It was becoming unbearable for Derek. The drowsiness was eating away at the fortress of his mind, unraveling it with each passing second.

"Fine… fine…"

Derek said, running a hand wearily through his hair. He heaved a sigh that turned halfway into a yawn. He picked up the mace and stood to his feet, his lethargy was so intense, he even thought that the ground was starting vibrating beneath him.

No...wait, the ground really was vibrating beneath him.

"Say, Mace, do earthquakes happen in this realm too? I can feel the ground vibrating beneath me."

The mace was silent for a few heartbeats and then it said just one word.

"Run!"

Derek didn't wait to hear it twice. He took off, sprinting for his life. Almost immediately, a huge worm-like creature erupted from the ground behind him, sending dust and rubble flying.

Derek could feel bloodlust radiating from the creature's consciousness.

Derek was on the cusp of a breakthrough when a large boulder knocked him off balance. He stumbled, his feet sliding on the loose scree. As he fell, he risked a glance at his attacker's position. The worm-like creature, its mouth agape, revealing an array of razor-sharp teeth arranged like the blades of a shredder, was already upon him.

Back when Derek had first met Hunter, he'd realized he could glimpse the surface of the old man's consciousness. At the time, he had dismissed it as a result of his haywire memories or some strange aura that Hunter exuded.

Later, when he encountered Auror, he realized he had some measure of control over this newfound ability. He had even tried to pry into Auror's mind, but gleaned little, save for the fact that the demigod's thoughts were as precise and unyielding as a machine. But Derek hadn't stopped there. He had been probing the minds of all the creatures that had been chasing him for the last few days, and he found that each mind was vastly different and unique, yet they all shared one commonality, a persistent undercurrent of lust. Well, when they weren't trying to kill him that is. But when they were, the lust manifesta as a ravenous bloodlust, becoming far more prominent.

Sometimes, if the lust was strong enough, he could even use it to pinpoint the creature's location. But there was one thing he had never tried: controlling that lust. The consciousness of other beings had always seemed like an elusive, intangible concept. Faced with imminent death, Derek decided to gamble on the fact that if he could pry into it, then he could control it.

He hijacked a portion of the creature's consciousness, desperately attempting to reduce its bloodlust to the barest minimum.

The creature, poised to swallow Derek in a single bite, suddenly paused, a flicker of confusion clouding its reptilian eyes. It couldn't understand why it had wanted to harm the innocent being before it. But this momentary daze wouldn't last long.