Hive mind

The boy stood amidst the chaos, the bodies of the bandits sprawled around him, lifeless and still. As he caught his breath, he felt the virus surge within him, awakening an insatiable hunger. It pulsed through his veins, pulling him closer to the dead bodies, an irresistible force drawing him in.

He watched in a mix of fascination and horror as the virus began to react. Tendrils of black biomass slithered from his fingertips, extending toward the corpses. The bandits' bodies convulsed, and the boy felt their life essence being pulled away. It was a power unlike anything he had ever experienced—unimaginable and intoxicating.

"Is this what it means to truly harness the virus?" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the sounds of nature surrounding him. "To control life and death?, well that sounded weong".

But as the virus consumed the bandits, he struggled to maintain control. Waves of energy surged through him, threatening to overwhelm his senses. Each pulse was a reminder of the chaos he could unleash, the destruction that lay just beneath the surface.

"Breathe," he murmured, grounding himself as he focused on his thoughts. "This power is mine. I control it, not the other way around."

He reveled in the sensation of the virus enveloping the bodies, a dark satisfaction filling him as he drained the remnants of their lives. The strength coursing through him was intoxicating, a surge of raw potential that made him feel invincible. But he knew he had to be careful. The last thing he wanted was to lose himself to this newfound power.

"Don't get lost in the thrill," he cautioned himself. "Remember what you're capable of. This is a tool, not a curse. Control it."

After what felt like an eternity, he withdrew his hand, breaking the connection. The bandits' bodies consumed, leaving nothing behind. The boy took a moment to collect himself, the weight of his actions settling in. He felt powerful but also acutely aware of the darkness that lurked within him.

With a deep breath, he turned away from the gruesome scene and made his way toward the edge of the clearing. The forest loomed ahead, a comforting shroud that would help him process what had just transpired.

As he walked, he spotted the unfortunate man the bandits had dragged along, lying forgotten among the chaos. Guilt washed over him. He couldn't leave him like this, not after what had happened. With determination, he knelt beside the body, preparing to give the man a proper burial.

After digging a shallow grave with his bare hands, he laid the man's body to rest, covering it with dirt and leaves. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why I am apologizing to you but I thought that would somehow give you peace" he whispered, a mix of sorrow and respect in his voice. "You didn't deserve this fate."

Once the grave was finished, he stood and took one last look at the makeshift burial site. With a heavy heart, he turned back toward the forest, ready to return to his camp. As he walked, he thought about what had happened, the power he had unleashed, and the price of that power.

He had survived, but at what cost? The darkness inside him was growing, and he knew he needed to find a way to control it before it consumed him entirely.

With each step, the weight of his choices settled heavily on his shoulders, but the thrill of power lingered, tempting him to embrace it.

As the boy made his way through the trees, the world around him began to blur, colors swirling in a disorienting dance. Suddenly, visions flooded his mind—flashes of lives he had never lived. He stumbled, gasping as a barrage of images crashed over him, each one distinct yet hauntingly familiar.

The first vision was of a young bandit, laughing with his friends around a campfire, the flickering flames illuminating their faces. Then it shifted to a scene of cruelty, the same boy stealing from a market, an innocent vendor shouting in anger. Next, there was a moment of tenderness: the bandit cradling a child, a sister perhaps, and they both laughed.

"Wha—what is this?" he murmured, panic rising in his chest. The memories swirled faster, faces shifting as he glimpsed snippets of joy, sorrow, and brutality. He realized then—these weren't just random images. They were lives, experiences stored within the virus, linked to him through the people he had consumed.

"It's like a hive mind," he breathed, gripping his head with both hands as he fell to his knees. "The virus… it keeps their memories. Their souls."

The weight of realization crashed over him like a wave. He could feel their emotions mingling with his own, their personalities whispering in his mind. A sudden understanding struck him like lightning: if he couldn't control this power, he might lose himself to the collective consciousness of all those he had absorbed.

"No! No!" he screamed, his voice echoing through the forest. He doubled over, his hands clutching the ground, the memories surging through him like a violent torrent. The bandits' lives collided with his, a chaotic clash of cruelty, laughter, and despair. It felt like he was drowning in their thoughts, their feelings consuming him.

After what felt like an eternity, the storm within began to settle. He slowly lifted his head, breathing heavily, trying to clear his mind of the overwhelming chaos. The forest around him grew quiet, the echoes of the bandits fading to whispers.

"Okay, okay," he muttered to himself, still shaken but forcing himself to focus. "You can handle this. Just… breathe."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "This is just the virus trying to make sense of what it's absorbed. It's not going to take over. Not if I can help it."

He chuckled nervously, the sound a strange comfort in the eerie silence of the forest. "Guess I've got a whole crowd of personalities to manage now. Hope they don't mind my style."

With a shaky breath, he stood up, brushing dirt from his knees. "So, it's a hive mind, huh? That explains a lot." He started walking again, the unease lingering but his resolve stronger. "Gonna have to be careful not to let their memories mess with my head. Can't have a personality crisis out here."

As he made his way back to his camp, the weight of the bandits' lives still hung heavy on him, but he felt more in control. He had survived their deaths, but now he needed to figure out how to navigate this newfound complexity within him.

"Maybe it's not just a curse," he mused aloud, a hint of determination creeping into his voice. "If I can learn from them, use their experiences without losing myself… then maybe, just maybe, I can become something greater."

With that thought propelling him forward, he moved through the trees, the flickering light of his campfire in the distance guiding him home. The journey ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he felt ready to face whatever awaited him.