Ancestral Guides

Groups of recruits move through the base, carving apart the remains of the attack from the previous night. The large insectoid carapaces of the dragonfly corpses are hollowed out and inspected. The chitin is stronger than many metals, likely contributing to the force of their impacts. Blood-matted furred rodent bodies are dragged by groups of ten at a time, the congealed blood smearing on the cracked concrete.

Aaron, Darian, Eryn, Imogen, Gus, and Corporal Cadence stand listening to the words of the deceased pastor; trying to absorb the new information.

"You don't know anything about mutant animals?" Eryn asks his father, hoping information passes quickly in this half-way afterlife.

The man looks around, seemingly reading the other nearby spirits if they might have information.

"No one here does," Mr. Preacher starts.

"Without young Gustavo here, we haven't been able to communicate, and that's been the majority of their focus," he adds, referencing the other ghosts' attempts at contact.

"Is there anyway for you to pass information to other spirits across distance? We could use spies," Eryn's questions continue.

"Spies?" The Corporal speaks up, adding,

"We don't have human enemies. What good would spying on beasts do?"

"This entire catastrophe, significant loss of life, and ongoing apocalypse is the direct result of human interactions. I refuse to believe that we have all the information," Eryn explains.

"We don't even know why so many Anomalies appeared within the radius of this base," Aaron points out, finding himself in agreement with the newcomer. The Corporal thinks for a few seconds, her mind trying to tie inconsistencies together, but makes no further comments.

As Mr. Preacher stands there patiently, the techniques allowing his communication aren't consumed as fast when not actively used.

"We can pass information between us pretty easily, but there's no way to really tell if other spirits are lying. Just because they are dead doesn't mean they are good people," the wizened apparition points out.

"The spirits here right now have ties to the the rest of you," Mr. Preacher marks, adding,

"Most of you wouldn't be directly familiar. As I said, the connection doesn't necessarily have to be with relatives, but I believe they can be trusted."

"Who would we even have them spy on?" Imogen asks, curious who the rest of the group is suspicious of.

"The Headmaster, first and foremost, in my opinion," Gus suggests, his suspicions of the strange man have grown steadily.

Darian looks over at the Corporal, trying to read her reactions to the topic at hand. Her expression is one of confusion, but a strange glint in her eyes seems to shine as she reaches her own conclusions.

"If we are going to spy, we should target every remaining military leader or politician," the Corporal suggests, meeting some surprised reactions.

"I don't think we have that many spirits that we could trust," Mr. Preacher points out.

"We have about 20 in this group, more throughout the base."

"There are 20 ghosts around us right now?" Darian asks nervously, though his question was already answered.

"Would you be willing to help me get some names?" Eryn asks the Corporal, meeting a determined nod in response.

"Dad, for now, can we have you all keep an eye on the Headmaster, Sergeant Kayn, and Sergeant-Major Wolf?"

"Of course, but we can't initiate contact if we do have information," Mr. Preacher points out.

"I can project my energy out periodically to check in. We can figure out simple gestures in the meantime," Gus suggests.

"If Gus isn't able to recreate the technique I used, I can be found easily," Aaron adds, confirming their willingness.

"I don't know how I can help in this," Imogen says, her contributions falling behind the others.

"Are we seriously using ghosts to spy on the government?" Darian asks excitedly.

"When we get the names, we'll find you," Eryn informs the group, before leaving with the Corporal.

"That boy always moves too quickly, I guess there is warrant for it now, though," Mr. Preacher speaks out to no one in particular.

"You go follow your son, it's our turn," another voice calls out from ephemera.

The device constructed from energy is passed to a ready pair of hands, as the ghostly pastor leaves the space of Gus' energy.

"Hello, Gustavo." An accented masculine voice calls out, his figure stepping into view. The man from the first time Aaron noticed the faces in Gus' aura appeared. Dark, ragged clothes hang off of his thin form.

"Uh, hi..." Gus responds, still unfamiliar with this man.

"Ah, right. I am your great, great-uncle. Your grandmother is here as well, if you would rather speak to her," the man offers.

"I'd be happy to meet her. No offense though, I don't really know much about either of you, so it's not really a matter of preference," Gus answers.

A feminine form steps into the area of his energy, taking up a small portion so both can be seen through the ability.

"It's good to finally meet you, officially," she says.

"Uh, yeah, you too. Wait, what about Mom?" Gus asks, confused as to why he doesn't have people he knew in life.

"She went on ahead," the grandmother says with a complicated smile.

"With Gabriel?" Gus asks, tears welling in his eyes. His question is met by a light nod from both spirits.

"Would you like us to leave you to speak? It doesn't seem like this is going to be about anything that involves us." Aaron asks, gesturing for the remains of the group to follow him.

"Um, I'm going to wait nearby, if that's okay," Imogen says, stepping away from the conversing family but remaining just out of earshot. Her position seems to be noticed by Gus, and he nods in appreciation.

Aaron and Darian move away, separating the remains of the group; they wander mostly aimlessly as Aaron's nerves were slightly aggravated during the whole interaction with spirits.

"You don't seem excited by all of this," Darian remarks, seeing his friend's dour disposition.

"It doesn't sound like there was anyone waiting to talk to me..." Aaron says dejectedly, feeling envious of the connections the rest of the group has.

"From what you've said to me before about your family, I thought that you would not have been too happy if they did, either," Darian points out, his knowledge of his friend's familial relationships having been a topic of discussion in the past.

"Yup, that's my problem. I'm upset that they weren't here, and I would've been more upset if they were," Aaron tries to clarify his emotional state.

"If they were here, I would've probably just heard something along the lines of 'we know more now, than when we were alive' or 'we're sorry', blah, blah."

"Bitter sad boi," Darian mocks, hoping to alleviate some of his friend's seriousness.

Aaron chuckles lightly at his own issues.

"Maybe they were there and said nothing out of worry," Darian adds, though Aaron's bitter smile stays.

"Even worse, because then nothing would have changed from when they were alive. Standing by, saying nothing and leaving me to figure it out," Aaron says, the slight upturn at the corner of his lips falling straight.

"The ghost pastor man said there were 20 ghosts tied to the group. Maybe not your 'rents, but someone you don't know personally, like Gus" Darian's suggestions continue. He knows Aaron is feeling more loneliness than abandonment, even if that is still a factor.

"It's alright, you're more like a family than they ever were. I don't need spirit guides. Even if I'm not entirely stable all the time, I've raised myself this far," Aaron assures.

"This is fucking DISGUSTING!" Beau's familiar voice echoes from nearby. The duo's attention immediately falls upon the poor man. He stands, coated in viscera and bile. The massive, deflated corpse of a nearby mouse denotes the absence of a revolting scene. The belly of the beast is marked with a strangely even and precise gash, split open; its innards were expelled like a beached whale.

"Isn't it supposed to take days for that kind of gas to build up from decay?" A nasally voice asks, a mid-tier recruit plugging his nose from the stench. Beau is entirely unresponsive, standing frozen in a state of overwhelmed disgust. The nearby recruits try to approach with some rags, but Beau doesn't even grab them in reflex. They attempt to help clean him, but do so incredibly ineffectively; as they keep one hand plugging their noses to prevent themselves from vomiting.

"Hey, you're all D&D magic-y now, right? Can you come up with something like Prestidigitation for the guy?" Darian asks Aaron.

"I assume you mean just the cleaning part," Aaron starts, adding,

"Probably, I didn't think I could make a speakerphone for the dead earlier today."

"Look at you! Remembering spell effects and shit. Makes me proud." Darian says, rubbing a fake tear from his eye.

"How would I even clean with energy?" Aaron thinks to himself.

"Floating feather dusters won't be much use, huh?" Aaron asks Darian.

"It would probably just smear it around," Darian answers.

"Hmm," Aaron vocalizes. He goes through images in his mind of how his energy usually interacts with matter; scenes of disintigrating flesh play out most commonly.

"Can I somehow focus that on non-living material?" He asks himself out loud, knowing Darian isn't as versed in the actual creation or use of energy yet.

Setting his mind to a plan, Aaron tries to envision his energy consuming all materials, leaving any skin untouched. A faint mist of violet rolls out from his palms, hanging just in front of him. He looks around, trying to figure out what to test it on before setting his sites on the large furred corpse. Stepping up to the large body, Aaron waves his hands over a portion of its tail, trying to focus on the gore and debris coating it. The particulates dissolve, leaving the fleshy tail of the rodent intact.

"Cool, it works; go help him," Darian speaks up, feeling bad for Beau's state. Aaron just nods. Stepping closer to the front side of the beast bombards his sense of smell with thick waves of purification; the stench burns his eyes, forcing them shut.

"Uh, you guys stand back, I can't see well," Aaron's nasally voice calls out to the recruits attempting to help Beau. The recruits eagerly jump away, giving the needed clearance.

Aaron peers through tear-filled eyes, barely managing to recognize Beau's form against the similarly stained concrete around him. Waving his right hand, Aaron makes his energy gather over Beau's head in a cloud before falling over him like rain. Seeing some pale skin clearing and hearing no sounds of pain, Aaron continues, allowing the technique to work. He turns away from the rotted body, closing his eyes to allow them to rest.

"Uh... Aaron, stop. STOP!" Darian shouts. Aaron immediately ends his technique in response, out of worry, but a strange chuckling in Darian's voice suggests no damage was done. Aaron turns around to look at Beau and sees a sparkly-clean, completely hairless and naked body standing in his place.

"Oh, fuck," is all Aaron manages to annunciate before Beau manages to snap from his stupor. Looking down, he seems relieved that he is no longer coated in the vile substances.

"Oh, thank you," Beau says sincerely, offering his hand to Aaron, until his mind catches up and realizes his exposed state.

Aaron pulls his fatigue top-shirt off and hands it to Beau's waiting hand. Beau quickly covers his lower body with the shirt, barely managing to cover everything.

"Wait, I had hair down..." Beau says, before coming to his second realization. He reaches for the top of his head, feeling a smooth scalp under his palms.