Chapter 44

They sat before the fire. Dane had set up a campfire tripod from which he hung a hanging grate. On it, he was heating a large volume of canned tomato soup in a tall stockpot. The three agreed to eat two tubes of Synthpaste each tonight, with soup to warm themselves.

He lifted the lid, sprinkled some salt, black pepper, and garlic powder, and stirred it with a spoon, gulping in anticipation. "This is almost pleasant, you know," Flynn said. It wasn't, not really. Earlier, two Great abominations had come too close to the ruins for his comfort, and their battle made it so that he couldn't even stand up, lest he lose his balance.

He said as much, "It isn't."

Jeanne nodded in agreement.

"I prefer sleeping underground," she said.

Flynn shrugged. "It's easier to breathe here."

Through the narrow crawlspace, the breeze had infiltrated the building. Every breath was laborious for Dane, cold and chilly. It was a shame he had only picked one size of firepit. An oversight of the highest order! There was not much he wouldn't give for a bigger, hotter fire.

"Damn your fresh air," he muttered through chattering teeth, earning a wry chuckle from Flynn and a giggle from Jeanne. Dane felt the cold in his soul, quite literally. His entire being was wintry. His eyes were fixed on the hot, steaming soup. Silently, he promised himself the largest portion.

"In all the dramas and comics and interviews, Legacies are always cold, callous, and move like they have a stick in their…ahem," Jeanne cleared her throat. "You might just be the most human Legacy I've ever seen."

Flynn said, "Nah. The Legacies on TV look honorable, heroic, and full of expression."

Dane didn't turn to look at them. The soup was getting dazzlingly beautiful. "...yeah, sure," he threw out, barely listening.

"It's because of the piss-poor weather in the Southern Quadrant. It's cold and callous, so your Legacies end up like that," Flynn quipped. "Our Northern Quadrant is nice and warm most of the time."

The soup was done heating, almost boiling, and Dane didn't waste any time. He lifted the lid, kept it aside, served three ladlefuls into his bowl, and got to it. Flynn and Jeanne were fighting over stupid things like the weather, people, and culture of the different Quadrants like the supporters of rival Legacy Clans would. It was good entertainment while eating, like watching a debate or fight on the network with a sumptuous meal.

He scarfed down his bowl of soup as quickly as it came. As he was taking a second serving, he glanced at the two and said with a grin on his face, "Soup's ready."

The two had gotten so engrossed in their children's squabble that they hadn't even noticed him eat!

"Finally!"

"I can take three servings!"

Dane's mouth twitched as he said, "Four for me."

He would have had five by the end, with the one he already had, but they didn't need to know. He doled out soup from the abnormally large stockpot with a sly smile.

Noticing it, Flynn and Jeanne questioned it. 

"Just happy to have something warm," he said.

***

Waking up in the dark of the night, Dane yawned and stretched. He wasn't able to complete his stretch. His shoulders grew taut against rock-hard frost, and the cold pierced it. Even the numbingness of the frost hurt. 

Instantly, he transformed. His body turned illusory and grey, losing all flesh and blood. The ice vanished, but he felt as if he was naked and bare to the worst of the snowstorms. He felt like he could sneeze at any moment…his soul had caught a cold. He sneered at the thought.

When he felt his shoulders heal from the cuts the frost gave him, he returned to his flesh and snuggled against the blanket. They were not warm at all, sending shivers down his spine as they caressed his skin.

When he slept, he would dismiss his metal plate as it would only make the cold deeper and more serious. All the magic was in the padded armor beneath, adjusting its temperature.

Dane had put in extra firewood before he retired. They were above ground, after all. It was needed. That begged the question, why was it so cold? Did the breeze snuff out the flames? Some mighty gust of wind that must have been…did the roof come off because of some creature? Dane shivered as he sighed and removed the blankets to dispel his worries and reignite the fire.

'Just great. I have to worry about dying in my bloody sleep,' he thought, rolling his shoulder blades as he felt the cold assault him once more. Dane gritted his teeth, steeling his will to walk to the firepit under the cold. Then, he was dissuaded by the frost growing on his fingers. His skin was blue and purple, bordering black…frostbite.

Sitting still, he examined his hands. They were rapidly healing and degenerating at the same time, creating a vicious cycle of excruciating, numb agony.

'Yeah…no,' he thought. He was not going to walk there. It hurt too much, and his soul was under too much stress for his liking. He transformed once more, feeling the pain vanish. Looking at his fingers, he noticed that under the gray, foggy covering, his white soul's fingers were thin as hairs. 

It was how his soul healed. It didn't form up from the uninjured part in a whole state, slowly proceeding forward. Instead, it regenerated in thin tendrils shaped after the souls' corresponding body parts' members. Then, it would slowly grow in volume, filling up the space.

Shaking his hands and flopping his wrists, he flew through the tent's covering. Grey whiskers, fur, and odd, luminescent eyes greeted him. With a shout, Dane stopped immediately. That thing knew they were there…yet it went for the fire first. It had been planning on freezing them to death.

With its paws on the cracked, splintered firewood stood a panther. Dane's shout had woken Jeanne and Flynn. It seemed that he could be heard even in his Phantom state without vocal cords.

He peered through the veil, finding a single repulsive, tenebrous core. Fallen Beast! Instinctively, Dane commanded all the fog on his body to recede, and his white soul shined blindingly through the building. The panther let out a low growl as it shut its eyes.

"We're under attack!" Dane shouted.