Sanguine Prince | Chapter 16: A Shower and A Show (Second Draft)

Arcturus awoke to the sound of voices, his eyes opening to take in the white-painted ceiling above.

A moment of grogginess had him blinking to dispel the lingering effects of weariness before he felt his ears twitch slightly, as if automatically adjusting to better hear the nearby voices exchanging tense words.

His body felt… good. Stronger. He felt as if his frame had greater density and solidity, and as if each step and movement would intrinsically be more efficient. When he sat up and looked around the room, he noticed his vision had improved considerably, enough so that he could make out granular details that would have escaped him earlier. He smiled to himself as he realized it, carefully pulling off the sheets covering his body and pushing himself up into a sitting position, feet to the floor.

While he’d slept, someone had changed him out of his old clothes and put him in clean ones, dressing him in a pair of comfortable black sleeping shorts and a simple white tee. He flexed his fingers as he sat up and enjoyed the strength and flexibility he felt within them, his ears focusing better on the voices he could now more clearly discern as Angela, and… Jakob? Yes, that was the name he’d heard attributed to the frustrated male voice currently engaged with the stubborn shopkeeper he’d befriended.

[Perception Check] successful!

A cursory glance around the interior confirmed that he was still under her roof, noting the same archways leading to different rooms, and the various tools and trinkets mixed among clothes and other paraphernalia. As far as he could tell, he was inside a spare bedroom, one that had been used for storage as much as accommodation. The area appeared no more than four meters long by three meters wide. It was cramped with piled crates and various models of discarded Aether Rifles that Arcturus simply assumed had failed to recapture Angela’s interest.

His examination of the room revealed a small door in front of his bed and to the left, opened to reveal what he assumed was a bathroom. Arcturus glanced to his right at the archway leading out into the central area of the surprisingly spacious residence Angela owned, before picking the bathroom instead. He wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been asleep, but his bladder was yelling at him for relief, and he had a feeling that he likely smelled less than appealing, despite his inability to catch a scent from himself.

When he entered the bathroom, he was surprised to see how similar it was to what he was used to.

His assumption had been to find something far more primitive, and yet if anything, it appeared more advanced. The first thing he noticed was the mirror stretching most of the length of the white-painted wall, showing his reflection—what he knew to be his new and permanent face—in its clean surface.

At the far right end of the bathroom, the shower was equipped with what appeared to be several faucets mounted on the three walls it was built into, with only the glass door that served as the shower entrance lacking such. The sink immediately to his right, before the shower and toilet, was a simple white porcelain sink, with red and blue crystals where Arcturus would look for the hot and cold taps on Earth.

The toilet itself was broadly similar to what he was used to, except there was no clear flush button, which momentarily confused him until he moved toward it and spotted the white crystal mounted on the side of the toilet that had been hidden from his view.

“Nothing left but to go for it,” he murmured to himself dubiously.

[Intelligence Check] successful!

Once he was done relieving himself, he closed the lid, washed his hands quickly in the sink—the crystals were pressure-sensitive regarding the water temperature—and then tapped the clear crystal on the side of the toilet to flush it. Instead of the rush of water, however, all he heard was a faint sound of pressure and a pop. For a moment, he stared at the toilet before shaking his head and instead turning to the shower.

“Damn it, where would the towels be…?”

No sooner had he said it than a slot in the wall, where he had assumed there would be nothing more than more wall, pushed itself out with a shimmer of blue light around a suddenly protruding drawer. Within were two sections separated by a simple divider. One held white towels, and the other appeared to be an empty clothes slot. Bewildered and delighted in equal measure, Arcturus took one of the offered towels and felt its material, marveling at both its thickness and softness.

[Intelligence Check] successful!

[Perception Check] successful!

[Insight Gained]: Terran Technology! Your intelligence and keen perception have allowed you to form a rudimentary understanding of Terran technology and its apparent basis in Aetherial manipulation. Unlike your home, technology on Terra appears to be entirely based on a marriage of science and magic! While the exact nature of its design eludes your ability to discern, it’s nonetheless apparent that this world is far more advanced in some respects than you ever thought possible!

Nodding his head as the prompt entered his mind, he smiled as he realized that perhaps the wonders of Terra could be worth exploring, in the nerdiest of ways. The possibilities of Aether-based technology were vast, and filled his mind as he hung the towel up on a rack beside the shower, removed his clothes, and put them into the waiting slot of the drawer—then stepped inside the shower as the drawer slid closed.

At first, he was confused again, until a calm voice spoke to him in the shower.

“Good morning, Resident. Please state your desire.”

Arcturus spun and swore, staring out at the door of the bathroom as his heart hammered, searching for the source of the voice. After a moment, he realized that he would have heard someone approach, and slowly turned back to look at the interior of the shower. If the technology he’d seen earlier with the towel drawer was any indication, it very well could have been some sort of strange program that spoke to him.

Feeling more than a little silly, he nonetheless spoke into thin air.

“I’d like a hot shower, ah, please. To clean myself off.”

“Acknowledged. Please enjoy your ablutions,” the voice replied, before Arcturus was abruptly met by three streams of water and the distinct scent of something reminiscent of lavender and coconut.

The water rolled over his skin, bubbling with soap suds as something mixed into the liquid was catalyzed into a cleansing reaction. He reached up instinctively to clear his face of the suds and experimentally ran his hands through his hair, surprised at how easily he felt the strands parting for his fingers. It occurred to him he had not truly felt his hair since arriving on Terra, and the natural silkiness left him feeling baffled and amused in equal measure.

His mother would have been seething with jealousy.

The shower was a good opportunity for him to consider what he would do next, too.

First things first: speak to Angela, and finally confront whether he still had someone to call a friend in the confusing immensity of his new reality.

From there, it would be a trip, at last, to the library and the Cathedral that Lilian had directed him towards. He wanted to find his friends, and Amélie was his focus in the immediate. If she had similarly been transported to the mad reality, at least for the immediate future, then he needed to make sure she was alright, if nothing else. He owed that to her.

From there, it was only a matter of finding a way to go home and whatever journey was required to achieve that goal.

Arcturus realized a few minutes later that the shower had stopped pushing out the cleaning substances, instead washing him with pure water, before it abruptly tapered off and ceased entirely—all three showerheads ending their flow in tandem. “Have a wonderful day, resident,” the voice chimed once again, which Arcturus took as his signal to get out of the shower.

He opened the glass door and grabbed his towel, quickly drying himself off and attacking his hair with the fabric, squinting his eyes against the ferocious back-and-forth motion of his hands through the towel, before lowering it to wrap around his waist.

He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, glancing at himself in the mirror as he walked towards the bedroom again. His hair looked both darker and brighter in equal measure, with the glistening remnants of his shower sticking to it, throwing his share of platinum strands into sharp contrast. His eyes were as intense and bright as he’d ever seen them, with the vivid crimson still taking him aback. His skin was clear and unblemished, a sun-kissed shade of olive, and his muscles appeared notably more clearly defined.

His stomach consisted of four pairs of abdominal muscles, with a faint divot down the middle. His pectorals were solid, and his biceps were more pronounced than he ever remembered seeing them.

“Shit,” he said with raised eyebrows, taking a moment just to enjoy the beautiful effects of System-enhanced physique. “I look like The Terminator.”

The best turn of phrase would be ‘shredded’, if he had to put it in an Earth term.

It seemed strangely unfair that he had achieved the state through the arbitrary use of what almost amounted to hacking the universe itself, but he wasn’t about to complain about the new strength or agility he could feel coursing through his limbs. The strangest thing was that his body hair had drastically reduced in density, with only a light smattering on his chest, arms, legs, and stomach, and only the faint beginnings of shadow on his jaw, though it was thankfully evenly spread.

“Might not be worth growing for a while,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his chin and once again feeling amazed at how sensitive his sense of touch was, both feeling each individual strand of stubble and feeling his fingertips brushing along his flesh. Another shake of the head and he looked down at the sink, realizing he had no means of brushing his teeth or rinsing his mouth. He’d used hot water in the shower, but the lack of ability to properly address his dental hygiene would bother him.

He’d have to ask Angela after he was dressed.

Which was when he went back into the bedroom and realized nobody had thought to leave a clean change of clothes for him.

Arcturus’ eyes widened, and he half-turned back to the bathroom, only to realize that his old clothes would make the entire cleaning process he had just concluded irrelevant. “You’ve got to be joking,” he muttered to himself, looking around the room for some sort of clue as to where clothes might be hiding, only to grow more concerned at realizing there was absolutely nothing to wear. The towel was the best he was going to do, since the blanket would similarly only serve to render his shower moot until the sheets were changed.

What, are you shy after ogling yourself in the mirror like Narcissus?

Arcturus grunted at the recriminating voice of his subconscious as it taunted him, and took a deep breath to calm the flutter of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

Glancing at the archway to the room and taking note of the continued exchange of indiscernible words, in what he now assumed to be the kitchen area he’d spotted previously, Arcturus undid and redid his towel—tucking in the edge and gripping it with his left hand to make doubly sure it stayed. He glanced down at the placement, noting the towel falling just below his knees in its lower half, limited in coverage by its unfortunate size. He suspected it had been designed for a shorter person than him, given that Angela was the only one actually living in the residence that he’d seen.

“Just go out and explain the situation, it’s not like it’s unreasonable. It’ll be fine,” he muttered to himself as he strode with purpose out of the bedroom, entering an attached living area complete with what appeared to be a television, coffee table, rug, and lounges. A moment of curiosity followed, and then he shook his head—crossing the room and stepping through another archway into what he knew to be the kitchen.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Angela, but I can’t seem to find my…”

He trailed off and froze as he felt a flush creep into his cheeks immediately, with no less than five pairs of eyes fixed on him.

Ha! This is going to be hilarious.