Boy of White, Stained in Red

{7 months after XXXX}

{D9}

{There is a boy, sitting ramrod straight on a fallen piece of concrete pillar. He is dressed in a dark ensemble, with various trinkets adorning his person. His unruly white hair hangs around him like a curtain, shrouding his face. Vines of scarlet climb the strands, a puddle has formed underneath. The tranquil image he makes sits in stark contrast to the land around him, unfettered while the ground shudders. White hair…I think he is who the scarred ones chatter about at base, retelling their tales over and over again, eyes widening at the senseless horrors that don't leave their minds. The stories don't hold any weight here, in the wake of a child unable to reach up enough to snap a neck, let alone twist off a head. But vigilant I will remain, caution is needed when one wants to stay alive.}

{It's strange, the boy stood up and started gesturing in various confusing ways.}

{Two hours have passed, and the boy has not moved from his perch. Instead, he alternates between frowns and smiles, occasionally laughing. The sound strikes the air hauntingly, bouncing off the hollows of bones and buildings alike. The boy sighs.}

{I ran. He got up and spotted me, that moment trapped me, stunning me blind as if down in the abyss. Luckily I've reached a safepoint set up by other wanderers when news about the dwindling numbers started to spread. The sheer fear I experienced now allows me to believe in it: the one they call a "Snowstorm".}

__________

Akili Petis. 

13 years old. 

I'm a pretty normal kid. 

However, I am now in the middle of a…not so normal situation. 

Who would've thought that an usual outing to buy school supplies (and search for any merch that might've made it onto the market) would result in me getting dropped into my very own guilty pleasure novel?? Not to mention, it wasn't just any random body I ended up in, it was the main antagonist's with him STILL IN THERE. He may be my favourite character, but even I can't deny that he's downright insufferable. That stubborn ruthlessness may have drawn me to him while reading "Strikeback! I got the SSS-class ability 'Plunder'?" but being on the receiving side is just so not pleasant:

[We've literally been walking for 12 hours, how have you not passed out by now?]

'Use your brain idiot. If I've lived here for 7 months, what other way would I have gotten food? I have made this trek countless times, therefore, the body has grown accustomed to it.'

[Crazy bastard.]

Sun's out, and the world is heated up. Like, burning hot I wanna die, heated up. The discrepancies between Earth and Aerath (the author wasn't quite all that creative with their naming…) is actually so disrespectful. Setting aside the frequent temperature fluctuations, every single thing in this world seems to have its lethality cranked up to the max. It really is a dog eat dog world out here…

Originally, "Strikeback! I got the SSS-class ability 'Plunder'?" had a pretty typical start and setting but as the difficulty of situations got more and more absurd later on, more people started dropping it. Most of the complaints were about how unbelievable it was that the stupid protagonist could keep evading the completely overpowered villain, along with surviving every natural threat present in his environment. 

The reason the author gave was that the protagonist was ever-growing due to his ability 'Plunder'. It's exactly as it sounds, it enabled him to plunder other abilities, and because his luck was quite literally god-given, every ability he plundered was the exact one needed in the face of any adversity. Yet somehow the power balance was still completely skewed, with every new foe introduced being immune to some random ability that hadn't been used in like ever. Which meant that the protagonist had to risk everything and plunder a new ability because none of his main combat abilities will deal any damage, obviously. 

Of course, there's still a cult following that liked how on crack the whole novel was…

Nevermind that, the biggest problem of all is how we're gonna come up with a plan to kill the protagonist, Glavni Merkki. Given all of that, the damn dude is basically invincible in this world, that plot armour is so strong that even Vol*emort would have trouble killing him. 

Maybe I should've tried convincing Rikas to not go after him. 

Oh well, too late for regrets now. First thing I have to do is go over everything I know, then form a list of the most reasonable plans of action. Oh! And avoid any potentially dangerous foreign creatures we encounter, how the h*ll did I almost forget that this world has both normal animals and weird, mutated amalgamations of them. 

Hahhhh.

I can already feel the headaches.

'Stop mumbling over there and help me scout the area. I'll scan the outer edge while you take the inner area. If we die, it's your fault.'

[Yeah yeah, I got it. No need to get your britches in a twist.]

A stinging sensation tingles at the top of my head as we start to split, the tingle soon transforms into a full blown ache, followed by the worst feeling I've ever experienced in my 13 years. 

It shreds through me. 

Compressing d ow n, a cont ainer to o sm all for a too b ig ex istence. Th e split c onti nu es, r ipp ing and ri p pi ng until the pie ces of myself are t o o sca tte red to ev er fin d ag ai n.

I remain there. 

Time stops flowing as I'm suspended in that state. 

Se con ds. Min ute s. Ho u rs. 

It stops as suddenly as it had begun, sticking me back together and depositing me out as an intangible wisp. 

F**k that, it's horrible no matter how many times we practice it. 

I passively drift through the halls of the shelter, looking for the clearing that marks where the food is stored. Rounding a corner, a familiar description finally greets my eyes. Small rays of light splinter in through the geometrically designed glass wall. Trees lined the edges in orderly shapes, the clearing itself is barren save for a stone box containing rations sitting right in the middle. I make my way over to it, feeling a bit strange to be making no noise while walking on concrete. 

My thoughts turn towards our hellish journey here as I wait for Rikas' signal. 

During the duration of our 12 hour walk, we experimented with the limits of my agency. Turns out, using Rikas' ability, I could separate from the main body into an astral one—pretty handy for information collecting. The feeling of separation wasn't a nice one though, the first time we tried, I almost had my actual soul float out. 0/10, would not recommend. 

Rikas hypothesized that it functioned this way since the original purpose of the ability was used to split oneself's mind in 2. Making it nearly impossible to use since the information feedback was so strong that it almost always left the user incapacitated. However, as we are 2 whole beings as opposed to a half, the debilitating pain in the process of separation would have been substituted in compensation for our effortless use of such a sadistic ability. 

Apparently, Rikas felt it as well, but that monstrous guy just flinched with the only sign being occasional scratching at his arm—a habit he developed to ward off pain. 

Sometimes the excess information I gathered as a superfan does have its uses. 

'Ahem.'

Leaving that aside, while I had been idly traversing the inner area, Rikas had finished checking the outside. Raking a last searching look over the shaded clearing, I signalled that it was safe to come in. 

After stealing some rations left in a compartment, we settled down in a far corner.

'Seems like you can do something useful after all, parasite.'

[Awh come on! I told you, if you're gonna call me something, use Peli.]

'That's not even your real name, why should I address you in such a way when no trust is given to me?'

[A nickname is cuter man! I'm not calling you VonVon so don't call me parasite.]

'…'

'Just shut up and eat.'

[You know I can't do that in this body right?]

'…'