Sanguine Prince | Chapter 09: Rifles and Revelations (Second Draft)

“This here is your standard aether rifle. Three hundred meter range, as opposed to the standard one hundred, single-shot accurate, and with limited but effective burst-fire capability in a pinch,” the enthusiastic brunette speaking to him said with a smile, her blue eyes twinkling with glee. “You’ll sacrifice accuracy for it, though, if you go that route.”

Arcturus accepted the long, silver weapon from the store owner when she extended it—carefully pointing the gun to the floor as he peered down the sights, and blinked at what he could only describe as a holographic heads-up display inside the extended rectangular scope.

The rifle itself was almost a meter-and-a-half long, built with some kind of sleek alloy that gave it a notably futuristic appearance to Arcturus’ eyes. There was nowhere to slot a magazine, and barring a gel-like material towards the front third of the weapon’s bottom, he saw no second grip to account for recoil. In fact, even the grip and buttstock seemed more geared towards comfort than function.

Curious to see what he'd find, Arcturus casually triggered his [Inspect] skill on the weapon.

[INFORMATION PANEL]

Name: Headhunter Aether Rifle

Slot(s): Hands

Type(s): Enchanted

Quality: Rare

Classification(s): Weapon (Aether Rifle)

Statistic(s): +2 to Perception | +2 to Agility

Modification(s): Superior Scope x 1 (+2 to Perception) | Custom Buttstock x 1 (+1 to Agility) | Lightweight Materials x 1 (+1 to Agility) | Burst-Fire Mode Switch x 1

Description: A long-range weapon crafted by an advanced artificer with considerable knowledge of the processes behind Aethersmithing and weaponcrafting. While designed as a standard weapon, the care put into the aether rifle has made it far more effective than the average model.

Soulbond(s): N/A

Durability: 350 / 350

The stats baffled him, but it was knowledge, which was what he was after anyway.

Arcturus had chosen the detour into the shop, which was fancily titled Angela’s Arms & Armour, to try and find his bearings after realizing he’d been wandering the colossal multi-tiered expanse of Luxanium with no actual idea as to where he was going. Northeast had seemed an easy enough direction to follow when Lilian had given it to him, but in reality, it had turned out to be far more difficult than he’d anticipated.

Within ten minutes, he had taken two wrong turns, and by the time twenty had passed, he’d found himself stuck facing a massive wall with no conceivable means of passing it. Out of desperation, he’d attempted to ask random pedestrians—of which there were thousands—for directions to the Cathedral, only to be hastily left in the dust as they scrambled to depart from his presence, showing an overwhelming sense of discomfort at even being seen too close to him.

The entire situation had spiralled into madness when he’d all but attempted to climb the colossal boundary wall before giving up on that course of action.

After another few minutes of wandering while his frustration boiled, he’d finally found Angela’s business and decided that learning about the weapons of the strange version of Earth he found himself in was a wise course of action.

“So, what do you think?”

Arcturus looked at the proprietor with an expression of bewilderment at her query. He looked back at the rifle, then back to her once again, and chose his words carefully.

“It’s not what I’m used to. How do you account for the recoil?”

Angela blinked at him, raising both her eyebrows as he spoke. “Recoil?”

“Yeah, when it fires. How do you handle the kick-back?”

Arcturus started to feel like he’d made some sort of faux pas, based on her growing look of offended irritation.

“Are you mocking my work?” she asked sharply, snatching the rifle back with a glare.

Nice one, Arcturus. Really smooth.

“No!” Arcturus responded, feeling alarmed. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I was legitimately curious.”

“Asking about recoil in an Aether Rifle?” she queried, staring at him critically.

“I’m not well-versed on these things,” Arcturus responded with his hands raised in what he hoped was a placating gesture. “Truly, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“How can you be unaware of the basic function of a gun?” Angela demanded incredulously, while waving the aether rifle indicatively.

“I swear, I’m telling the truth,” Arcturus responded earnestly. “I really didn’t know!”

[Charisma Check] successful!

“You’d have to be completely ignorant of the foundational principles of Aethersmithing if you’re telling the…'' Angela trailed off, eyes wide, and looked at him with a sudden mix of excitement and partial awe. “You’re Secondborn! A Daeva!”

Arcturus blinked at her exclamation, a wave of wary caution rolling through his mind as he watched her carefully. “Pardon? I’m a what?”

“You’re a Daeva, aren’t you?” Angela asked eagerly. “Gods, I’ve heard about this, but I never thought I’d be the one to find a fresh-from-the-shrine Daeva!”

“I’m sorry, I’m at a loss,” Arcturus said with rapidly escalating confusion. “You think I’m an Angel?”

[Perception Check] unsuccessful!

“What?” Angela asked incredulously. “No, that’s ludicrous. You’re Secondborn! Divine-Touched! You can see the matrix of the soul, right? Direct your essence growth?”

Arcturus felt himself grow cold at her words, and decided he’d had enough. He didn’t need to take needless risks, and he’d already learned plenty from the encounter. Cautiously, without taking his eyes off the rifle-toting woman, he stepped towards the door.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he answered with forced calm, preparing to bolt. “I’m sorry for any insult rendered. I’ll leave you to your—”

“Don’t be stupid!” Angela said with another flash of irritation, marching up to him and grabbing for his arm in a very telegraphed motion.

[Agility Check] successful!

Arcturus dodged her attempt smoothly, eyeing her warily as she sighed at him, and mentally considering whether he could snatch the gun from her—he didn’t want her to shoot him in the back if he made a run for it.

“Listen, kid,” Angela said before he could do anything but ponder, “you’re acting like an idiot. It’s fine. No one’s scared of Daevas anymore. Heavens, we owe your kind so much for your service to Terra!”

“What? My kind?” he asked, momentarily distracted from his getaway plan.

“Yes, your kind. Secondborn,” she said again, slowly, as if he were stupid. “Daeva, Secondborn, same thing! You’re reforged souls from Shards of the Source!”

Arcturus was too curious to be genuinely offended by her tone, heart hammering in his chest as he tried to fight down the anxiety that had appeared when he’d thought she’d guessed at his True Oblivion excursion. “So, wait, there are more people like me?” he asked carefully. “People who can, you know, see the world through numbers, sheets, and screens?”

“Sheets? Screens?” Angela asked dubiously, then waved a hand to dismiss it and nodded impatiently. “Yes, kid, there’s plenty of people like you. Thousands of them. They’re some of the greatest heroes, adventurers, and sometimes villains that Terra’s ever seen!”

“Terra?” he asked when she repeated the word.

Hope kindled in his chest.

Terra was the most common alternate word for ‘Earth’.

“Yes, Terra. The Source. How do you not know that?” She frowned. “You’re from a source-shard like the others, aren’t you? I heard there was an influx from a distant one recently. What was it called… rock… dirt…” Her hands clapped together abruptly. “Earth! You’re from Earth, right?” she clarified and laughed. “Stupid name for a planet.”

“Uh, Thanks?” he said with a twinge of irritation on behalf of his home, before pointing out a notable oversight, with a feeling of immediate vindication. “Isn’t Terra just another name for Earth?”

“I suppose, but Terra is way better—and count yourself lucky! Who’d want to go back to a source-shard, when you can be on the Source? Trust me, kid, you’re much better off,” Angela assured him, and shouldered the rifle in a practiced manner. “Now, first things first, how long ago did you reincarnate?”

“Uh… two days ago?” he answered with wary uncertainty.

“That recently?” She asked in a shocked voice. “That’s… wow, alright.”

Angela appraised him more carefully after that, her expression thoughtful as she took him like someone examining a prize stallion put up for auction. The attention was mildly disconcerting, but the information she was delivering in spades was worth a little awkward examination.

“Why did they let you out of the Temple so quickly?” she finally asked.

Arcturus frowned at the question. He wasn’t entirely sure he was being wise in having such an open conversation with a complete stranger, but he needed information. Indecision warred within him for a moment before he decided to throw caution to the wind. He was supposedly divine-touched, right? If his education had taught him anything, it was how to leverage things like that.

“I didn’t awaken in a Temple,” he said with projected confidence, his voice as nonchalant and matter-of-fact as possible while he relied on his Charisma to carry the day. “I came to Terra through other means, courtesy of The Highest.”

[Charisma Check] successful!

Wow, that was some impressive truth-spinning.

Angela raised her eyebrows at his words, and then hummed in thought.

“So you’re something special then, huh?” she asked, and then grinned abruptly in naked glee.

“This just keeps getting better! We’re gonna get on great, kid,” she declared, before a flicker of hesitation flashed across her features, and she lowered her voice conspiratorially. “So. Uh. Your death… how was that? I hear Nephilim tend to die violently. Is that true? I remember…”

Arcturus could barely hear her as she continued, her voice morphing into white noise as a ringing filled his ears, combined with a rushing sound akin to a mighty wind.

A blade in his chest.

Blue eyes, merciless and unblinking.

He could very nearly feel it again as he remembered with a clarity given to him by his Intelligence score. He remembered every detail, every moment of it. The feeling of being stabbed by a sword of energy. A bitter taste filled his mouth as adrenaline flooded his body. Pain in his chest. Pain in his head. A tightness in his skull.

[Willpower Check] unsuccessful!

Your unresolved trauma has caught up to you!

Arcturus felt a shudder run down the length of his body and staggered sideways, stumbling until he impacted and sagged against the front of one of the many secured cabinets in Angela’s workshop, his vision blurring.

A blade in his chest. Wetness on his shirt.

The staring eyes. His friends. His parents.

The pain. The fading of his awareness.

Pain.

Arcturus slowly sank to the ground, curling his hands into fists as he attempted to control the adrenaline racing through his limbs and the thunder of his heartbeat. The ringing in his ears grew louder, the sound akin to a jet engine, and he tried to focus on his breathing as his father had once taught him.

His head lowered as he tried and failed to master his emotions, feeling the confusion, panic, fear, and worry from the last week wash over him in a tidal wave. His death, meeting God—Order, or whatever the hell He was—and then everything that had happened afterwards.

It was just like how he’d felt after killing the Dire Wolf, though this time there was no level-up alert to knock him unconscious.

He felt like he was drowning, struggling and failing to surface for air while being pushed under again and again by events completely outside of his control. All he wanted was to find his friends and get back to Earth, yet he was now stranded in a world not his own, with no allies, no resources, and no knowledge of how to survive. Most infuriatingly and frustratingly of all, the second person he’d met on the brand new planet who had been willing to have an honest conversation with him ended up fomenting a meltdown of all things.

Arcturus felt as much as heard himself laugh, shuddering while his vision continued to blur.

The blade. The pain. The blood. The pain, the pain, the pain.

He could feel moisture on his cheeks, but he was beyond caring.