Orc's base

"Right!" It seems to come back to him. "Because they place a barrier all over so no mana could be let into here, restricting humans from using their abilities since they need mana, am I right?" he titles his head. 

You're right. 

His eyes move up to the sky spotting the slight glint in the barrier above. 

At least it wasn't like the ones the red goblins use, those were more of melt domes you had no idea if it was morning or night and with the sun's ray constantly hitting on it, it made it way hotter and unbearable to live, which made my once fair skin turn tanned. 

Now, my skin is pale, way lighter than it has ever been, so I'm grateful but with this body I can see it being bothersome with it always being cold. 

Eventually his walking came to a stop as he reached a check-in-station. 

The cold air grew heavier as Legion and Cinder nears the check-in-station. The streets had been unnerving enough—abandoned stalls, broken-down carts, and the occasional shadow of an orc looming in alleyways.

Nothing like the place he was just in as if everyone vacant this area because it was near to them. But the station ahead was something far more dangerous. Legion could feel it; the orcs were no longer hiding in the periphery. They were everywhere now, clustered like a hive of predators waiting for the next kill.

The station itself was a looming structure, made of dark stone and reinforced with iron. The scent of blood and sweat hung thick in the air. Even from a distance, Legion could hear the grunts, the guttural sounds of orcs speaking their brutal tongue

 It isn't just a check-in station anymore; it was their base of operations, and from the corner of his eyes sees the people gathering all of them in a line awaiting their draining. 

And after today the orcs would be even more powerful- 

His breath caught in his throat as he spotted someone in the crowd, a flash of green catching his eye. A young woman, short hair blowing in the wind as she ran to join the line. Legion's heart pounded as recognition struck—

Morgan the innkeeper, she looks more younger than I expected. 

The memories from the previous owner of his body surges forward. She was a kind soul, always looking out for the children in the village. She wasn't just a friendly face; she had been someone close to this body's past.

I should probably get going. 

He is about to turn away when a scream tears through the air, sharp and gut-wrenching. Legion's body tenses, and he whirls around, just in time to see Morgan clutching her arm, blood seeping through her fingers. An orc looms over her, its jagged axe gleaming in the dim light as it grins savagely.

It's punishment—likely for being late.

His face darkens.

But Legion knew better. He remembered the woman's soft-spoken words, the way she doted on the village children. She must have been delayed because of them—caring for the little ones, and my siblings were two of them. 

Cinder, do you know how much for a healing potion?

"Let me see." He closes his eyes as if checking through his memories or perhaps data. "One bronze coin." 

Ok. I get three bronze, one could be directed towards the potion for Morgan the rest can be towards food or other necessities, if only it wasn't winter all year around crops would have been something great to grow in times like this.

"Why don't you try to duplicate the coins?" Cinder asks. 

Magic can't be implemented to coins, there's a seal on all of them and I have no mana, remember?

"Oh right." Cinder's features become more gloomy seeing that his suggestion was shut down. "I forgot." 

Focussing back on the station ahead, he continues back on his journey. The moment he steps through the entrance, the atmosphere shifts. The noise of orcish grunts and snarls echoes loudly off the stone walls, and a sudden hush fell over the room as they notices him.

Dozens of eyes snap toward him, watching his every movement with suspicion and thinly veiled aggression. Legion could feel the weight of their stares, each one sizing him up, as if deciding whether he is prey or something to be ignored. His heart races, but his face remains impassive. He can't afford to show fear—not here, not now.

"They're so moody." Cinder snares smoke seeping through his mouth as he heaves a sigh. 

The orcs were brutal, yes, but they also respected strength. If they sensed weakness, they would pounce, and he can't risk a fight—not yet.

"We're just passing through," he mutters under his breath, though the words are more for himself than anyone else.

He walks forward, every step measured, his senses hyper-aware of the orcs surrounding him. They are clustered near the edges of the room, some sharpening weapons, others drinking from large barrels. But all of them kept one eye on him. 

His eyes finally land on it, the registration desk. 

There!

Moving over to the old desk, he opens the book, takes the pen next to it and scans it for an empty space which he finds next to the countless names. Signing in, he then uses his memories to navigate his way to the cave opening, and he soon finds it. 

Before entering the dark cave, barely lit by the flickering torches, he spots someone standing near the entrance. They lean against the wall, gripping their pickaxe, eyes fixed on the ground beneath them. There's something about their posture—tense, as if they're lost in thought or waiting for something.

"Blaise?" He says without realising, and the boy looks up, eyes lightning up upon seeing him. 

"Legion! I've been waiting here for a good few minutes. Thought you weren't coming today, like yesterday," Blaise says, walking up to him. But as he steps closer, Legion instinctively takes a step back.

Blaise freezes, confusion flickering across his face. "Are you okay, man? Why do you look like that?" he asks, his voice softening with concern.

"It's..." Legion mutters, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tries to steady himself. The air feels unbearably thick, like cement pressing down his throat, making it hard to breathe. His chest rises and falls rapidly, but it's as if he can't get enough oxygen.

Blaise watches him, his expression shifting from concern to alarm. "Legion, what's wrong?" he asks, stepping closer but hesitant, unsure if he should intervene.

 I saw him…

"Fine," Legion forces out, though his hand instinctively grips his chest as if trying to hold himself together. His fingers press against his shirt, and the strain in his voice betrays the lie. 

Blaise narrows his eyes, clearly not buying it. "You don't look fine," he says, taking another cautious step forward. "You're barely standing. Talk to me, man—what's going on?"

For a moment… I saw him.

Alex, coming towards me. 

Legion winces, his hand instinctively moving to his side as a sharp pain flares up, sudden and vivid. It feels like the gunshot all over again, the burning ache spreading through his ribs, making it hard to stand.

Shit…Just calm down, he's gone, maybe living happily with his family now.