Bioasshard: Arena

The shard had been angry that time. It took three days to revive him, and when he woke, his hands were different. The fingers were longer, more articulate, and the palms held small, puckered apertures. He’d spent a week in isolation, learning. When he flexed certain tendons, the apertures opened, and a thick, viscous fluid beaded on his skin. It was clear, odorless. Looked like water. Felt like grief.

He waited.

The ground beneath Jorge turned to a slurry of silicate and dreams. He sank to his knees, then his waist, his carapace cracking under the strange, singing pressure of the dissolving earth. He looked up at Kaelen, and for the first time, his tiny eyes held something other than rage. They held a question. Bioasshard Arena