The river carried Nero for hours.
He had stopped fighting the current long ago, letting the dark water sweep him away from Gor and the buzzing swarm that circled above like vultures. The flies had eventually given up their pursuit, returning to feast on the corpses that littered the ruined town.
He was safe for now.
But the river had its own dangers.
The water itself seemed corrupted. Too thick and dark, carrying a metallic taste that made his throat burn despite him not having taken any in. Strange shapes moved beneath the surface, things that might once have been fish but had grown too many eyes and teeth. Some followed him for a while before losing interest and disappearing back into the murky depths, while others tried to take a nibble or two.
When Nero finally dragged himself onto the riverbank, the sun was already beginning its descent toward the horizon. His clothes clung to his body, heavy with the foul water. The poison from the fly sting had spread through his shoulder, turning the flesh around the wound a sickly yellow-green.
He needed shelter and rest of he wanted to recover.
The landscape that stretched before him was unlike anything he had ever seen.
This was the true wilderness. The cursed badlands where no human dared wander into.
The air was thick and heavy with a certain abominable air that just made it safe too hard to swallow.
The trees didn’t seem like trees at all, but rather twisted imitations of what they had once been.
Their bark was black and weeping, oozing a substance that looked disturbingly like blood. The branches reached toward the sky like gnarled fingers, their leaves a sickly shade of purple that fluttered in the terrible wind.
The ground beneath his feet was soft and moist. And yet, for some reason, he could sense, much to his horror, that there was no life beneath his boots.
The earth was dead...
In the distance, illusory shapes and figures seemed to dart and move between the corrupted trees.
Things that might have been animals once, before the madness took them. Their eyes glowed with unholy light, and their calls echoed across the fleshy ground like the wails of the damned.
Of course, there was the possibility that his mind was just play tricks on him.
Nero shivered.
This was what the world had become outside the protective walls of human settlements. A living nightmare where even the very earth had been perverted.
Nero pressed forward, his trembling hand never leaving the grip of the Silver Blade. The poison in his shoulder was spreading, making his arm heavy and sluggish. He needed to find shelter soon, or the wound would fester beyond his ability to treat it.
Through the twisted forest, he could see the dark mouth of a cave carved into a hillside of writhing flesh. The entrance was surrounded by what looked like ribs, massive bone structures that arched overhead like the remains of some titanic creature.
It would have to do.
Nero approached the cave cautiously. The air around the entrance was thick with the smell of decay and something else. Something sweet and cloying that made his stomach turn.
The cave mouth seemed to whistle with the blowing wind.
A whistle, or a warning sound. Screaming at him not to step into this unholy place.
Despite his instincts screaming at him to run, Nero pursed his lips and took a step forward.
He had no other choice.
The walls were lined with what looked like veins of algae, pulsing with a faint bioluminescent glow that provided just enough light to see by. The floor was hard and rough just like the lifeless earth outside.
Deeper into the cave, the whistling sound seemed even louder. Although he knew it was just the wind, Nero couldn’t help but feel a deep-seated terror slowly building up in his chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.
Nero found a chamber near the back where the walls formed a natural alcove. He set down his belongings and examined his wound. The poison had spread further, creating dark veins that ran up his neck and down his arm.
First, he had to drain the wound. The buildup of infected blood could result in his arm rotting and falling off at best. The worst case scenario was his untimely death.
Taking a small Blacksteel knife from his satchel, he tore off a bit of cloth and placed it in his mouth.
’I don’t have any heat to cauterize the wound.’
He also didn’t want to take his chances starting a fire in this place, so just the knife would have to do.
Luckily, he had picked up a bottle of alcohol from the Priest’s cellar as well. That would help in disinfecting the wound properly.
Placing the piece of clothing he had cut off into his mouth, he bit down on it hard.
With a pained look on his face, he ran the edge of the blade over the face of the wound.
Tears streaked down the side of his face as he stifled a groan, his body lightly trembling.
’S-so painful!’
Seeing white for a few moments, Nero struggled to finish the process.
He finished the incision as fast as he could whilst enduring the pain.
Fetid black blood oozed out of the wound and down his arm.
A mild burning sensation enveloping his arm, Nero steeled his mind.
Taking another piece of the piece of clothing he had cut, he pulled the bottle of simple, aged liquor out of his things.
Sucking in a deep breath, he soaked the cloth with the alcohol.
Nero felt himself die and come back to life.
His vision began to swim due to the pain. So much so, he almost passed out.
He welcomed the numbness and allowed his mind to slip away.
Right into his subconscious.
After all, he needed answers.
"Oracle," he said aloud, his voice echoing strangely in the dark void of his mind. "I need to know what’s happening to me."