[Chapter 73. A Feast]
A low, guttural growl rumbled deep within Iris's chest, her silver eyes glinting with a sharp, predatory intensity in the dim, flickering light of the tower's atrium. "Meat would be welcome," she said, her voice dropping to a low register that matched the vibrating purr in her throat. The four women—Vanessa, Carmen, Lana, and Sarah—were currently bathed in the soft, emerald-green glow of the healing drones. They stared at Searanox with a mixture of raw terror and hollow bewilderment, their bodies twitching as the drones light stimulated their cellular regeneration.
"You four may join us for the meal. It would only be fair to include you, considering it was technically your kill that provided the main course," Searanox said, his voice echoing flatly against the high stone arches. He gestured casually toward the main entrance, where a heavy-duty cargo drone was in the process of depositing a massive pile of seasoned, dry firewood onto the floor. The logs landed with a series of hollow thuds that reverberated through the quiet chamber.
Vanessa stared at him, her green eyes wide and shimmering with disbelief. "You want us to… what? Roast the… that thing?" she stammered. Her hand was shaking violently as she pointed a dirt-stained finger toward the dark, ominous silhouette of the forest visible through the open archway.
"Vanessa, dear, what exactly did you think would be on the menu once my pre-packaged supplies eventually ran out?" Searanox asked. His voice was deceptively soft, carrying a chillingly pragmatic edge that silenced the room.
"Y-you can't be serious," Vanessa whispered, her face draining of what little color the healing drones had managed to restore. Carmen stepped forward, placing a steadying, firm hand on Vanessa's shoulder. Her dark eyes remained locked on Searanox, searching for a hint of a joke that she knew wasn't coming. Lana looked from Searanox to the dark forest and back again, her chest heaving as she struggled to process the command.
"I… I don't understand," Lana stammered, her voice cracking. "We… we killed it because it attacked us… and now you want us to handle it like… like food?"
"He is teaching you that this world is no longer the one you left behind," Iris interjected, her tone perfectly level and devoid of sympathy. "He is teaching you that meat is no longer a neatly packaged commodity wrapped in plastic and sold in a sterile environment. He is showing you that survival is a brutal, messy, and visceral business that requires you to confront the reality of death."
A few minutes later, the heavy hum of a cargo drone filled the atrium. It hovered over the polished stone floor for a moment before releasing its payload. A large, limp carcass landed with a heavy, sickeningly wet thud: the mana-infused deer. Its magnificent, glowing antlers were dim now, the pulsing blue light having faded into a dull, stony grey as the last of the mana bled out of its system.
"Iris, do you possess the specific knowledge required to butcher a beast of this size and composition?" Searanox inquired, looking over the carcass.
"Forgive me, Searanox, but I do not know such domestic things. I was created as a system guide to provide guidance and answer questions. Not the preparation of livestock," Iris replied, her gaze fixed intently on the fresh, cooling meat.
"Well then… pick two of them to assist you, and the three of you can figure it out together. Just ensure you do not stain my floors with its blood. Use the perimeter or the river," Searanox commanded. His gaze swept over the women, lingering just long enough to ensure the order was absolute.
As Iris led a terrified, trembling Vanessa and a grimly determined Carmen toward the carcass, Searanox turned on his heel and walked away toward the outer ring of the tower without a single backward glance. He found a suitable spot for a fire pit and crouched down, retrieving the Mycelial Fang from his inventory. The alien material of the dagger felt strange in his hand—part metal, part organic. He used the razor-sharp edge to shave thin, curly wood flakes from a thicker branch, creating a pile of tinder.
The sharp, mechanical click and flicker of a lighter cast a warm, dancing glow on his face as he ignited the dry fluff. The flames caught quickly, licking at the kindling and growing into a steady, rhythmic crackle that pushed back the encroaching shadows of the night. He leaned back against the cold stone of the tower wall, pulling out his last cigarette. The tobacco, though stale, felt comfortingly familiar as the smoke curled into the dark twilight sky. The soft crackle of the fire was the only sound for a moment, before it was joined by the muffled, distant sounds of feminine distress and the rhythmic, wet tearing of flesh occurring further away.
Down at the edge of the small, fast-running river that bordered the clearing, Iris dropped the heavy deer carcass into the shallow water. A dark, blooming crimson cloud immediately formed around the body, swirling in the current before being swept away downstream. Vanessa turned away instantly, her face a pale, sickly mask of pure disgust as she doubled over.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"This is… it's completely unsanitary. There are bacteria, there are parasites…" she managed to choke out through a constricted, heaving throat.
"We must be thorough and efficient if we intend to eat tonight," Carmen said, her voice sounding flat and disconnected, as if she were viewing the scene from a great distance. She pointed to a specific spot on the deer's flank where the skin remained taut. "The hide must come off first. Start there. The longer the body sits and cools, the more difficult the hide will be to separate from the muscle."
Vanessa gagged, the sound wet and violent in the quiet night air. "I… I can't do this," she whispered, stumbling back several steps from the muddy river's edge, her boots slipping on the wet stones. Carmen’s gaze lingered on her for a long, silent moment of judgment before she returned her full attention to the grim, bloody task at hand.
Back inside the atrium’s outer ring, Lana watched the orange firelight dance across the sharp, angular features of Searanox's face. He looked different in this light—less like a man and more like a permanent fixture of this new, harsh world.
"Are you… are you really going to eat that?" she asked, her words barely audible over the wind whistling through the trees.
"Are you a vegetarian, Lana?" Searanox asked, his eyes remaining fixed on the flames. The question was simple, direct, and entirely stripped of judgment. Lana flinched as if she had been physically struck by the inquiry, shaking her head slowly in the darkness.
"No," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the growing embers of the fire. "It's just… back home, I never had to… you know… see where it came from. It was just there. It didn't feel like it was ever alive."
"It was always alive," Searanox replied, his voice a low rumble. "You were just shielded from the truth of the cost. This world doesn't offer that luxury anymore."
A few minutes later, Iris reappeared from the shadows of the atrium, carrying several large, dripping chunks of raw venison on a makeshift slab of thick, stripped bark. Behind her, Vanessa looked physically ill, her hands trembling so violently she could barely keep her balance. Carmen followed them both, her face a stony, emotionless mask, though her hands and forearms were slick with dark, cooling blood that had begun to dry in the night air.
Vanessa dropped her portion of the meat onto a broad, flat stone near the fire with a shuddering, ragged gasp. "It was… it was still warm when we cut it," she whispered, her voice hitching with a repressed sob. "I can still feel the heat on my skin."
Iris ignored the comment entirely, her attention focused solely on the physical prospect of the meal. With practiced, efficient movements, she selected a sturdy branch from the woodpile, stripped it of its outer bark with her claws, and expertly skewered a large, thick piece of the venison. She held it directly over the center of the licking flames, her silver eyes watching the fat drip and sizzle against the hot white coals with an unnerving, predatory focus. The rich, savory aroma of roasting meat soon filled the surrounding air, masking the metallic scent of the forest and the river.
Searanox took the skewer from her, turning it slowly and methodically over the heart of the fire to ensure an even cook. Once the exterior was charred a deep brown and the juices began to run clear, he tore off a piece—the meat still searing hot—and ate it with focused, quiet deliberation. Juices dripped down his chin, but he made no move to wipe them away.
"This is good. It has a rich, complex flavor. The mana infusion must change the muscle density," he said, his voice low and raspy. He watched the four women, their faces caught in the fire's erratic, orange dance. Hunger was clearly beginning to win its internal battle against disgust in their eyes. Their stomachs were likely cramping after the physical exertion of the day.
This world was fundamentally new to them, a sharp departure from everything they had ever known. Food no longer came from a sterile, air-conditioned store; it came from the hunt, the struggle, and the kill. Survival was no longer an inherent right guaranteed by society; it was a daily, conscious choice, made with blood, steel, and fire.
Iris took the next piece of meat. Her sharp, inhumanly strong teeth ripped into the tough, fibrous venison with startling ease. A low growl of pure, animalistic satisfaction rumbled deep in her chest as she swallowed the first mouthful. Carmen followed suit next, her movements remaining precise and almost detached from the reality of the situation. She ate her share with a grim, stoic determination, treating the meal as a necessary fuel intake for her survival.
Lana hesitated for a long time, her eyes darting between the fire and the meat. Her hands shook visibly as she finally accepted the skewer from Searanox. Her first bite was incredibly small—a tentative, fearful nip at the charred edge of the meat. However, as the flavor hit her tongue, her resolve grew bolder. Her stomach clenched with a primal, undeniable need for sustenance, and she began to eat with more urgency.
Sarah and Vanessa were the last to participate in the meal. Their faces remained pale and ghostly in the flickering firelight, their expressions bordering on the funereal. They forced the meat down with great difficulty, each mouthful serving as a bitter, chewy reminder of the lives they had lost and the comforts they would never see again. The taste of wild game was the definitive taste of their new, harsh reality—salty, iron-rich, and unapologetically raw.
The fire crackled loudly, sending long, distorted shadows to play across the ancient, weathered stone of the tower’s base. It was a small, fragile circle of warmth and light in the middle of a crushing, infinite dark. The silence of the forest was thick and heavy, broken only by the sound of the wind, the wet tear of teeth through cooked flesh, and the occasional, sharp pop of a burning log as it finally collapsed into the white ash below.
