The Lone Wanderer

Percy watched the strange contraption grind the materials into fine powder. They swirled through the long metallic cylinder, its interior filled with steel teeth, rotating thanks to the heat from the furnace. It was actually ingenious how the locals harnessed the movement of the hot air to accomplish tasks otherwise impossible with brute strength alone.

‘I suppose we would have figured this out too, if we spent our whole lives stuck at Red...’

As for the materials Sengo had placed inside the machine – they weren’t anything special. Just some limestone and clay. They had those back on Remior too. In fact, Percy was pretty sure he’d seen both of them in many of the other worlds he’d visited.

A few minutes later, the crushing process was complete. Sengo removed the pipe venting the excess air into the tube, before emptying its contents into several buckets, filling them with an unassuming grey dust.

“This is called cement.” the man explained to his ‘son’ after noticing Percy’s perplexed expression.

And the latter wasn’t faking it either. While Takeo had seen his father work many times before, Percy struggled to find many details in his host’s memories. Evidently, the boy had never helped Sengo much, their relationship having always been rather rocky.

“It’s an important ingredient of concrete, but not the only one.” the man continued, oblivious to his thoughts.

Next, he picked a bucket with each hand, gesturing at Percy to do the same. The young man didn’t miss his ‘father’ wincing as he lifted them, probably suffering from some old injury or ailment.

The two then walked to a different room where a second machine was located. It looked a little like the one from before, though it was wider and didn’t contain any teeth inside. Clearly it was only meant for mixing, not crushing. Sengo placed the buckets on the ground, before picking a different pair up, filled with other materials.

“Concrete is mostly made of gravel, mixed with fine sand to fill in the gaps.” he explained as he poured the buckets into the device. “The cement we created earlier is used along with water to hold everything together.”

Percy nodded along, as he watched Sengo work, occasionally helping out when the latter had to lift something heavy. Even with the aid of the machines, a lot of physical effort still went into this. Though from what the young man had seen, the results were more than worth it.

Once they were done, they emptied the new material into the buckets again, this time ending up with a viscous grey sludge. Leaving the house, they walked over to a building down the street, stopping by one of the walls. It was broken, as a few chopped vines thicker than Takeo’s thigh were lying motionless next to it.

Two men were also working there – the first people other than Sengo that Percy saw outside since coming here. One was an older man – maybe a few years younger than Sengo, while the other was a boy around his age. The two barely spared them a cursory glance, busy as they were. They seemed to be uprooting the malignant growth that had sprouted the vines, before it had the chance to do so again.

“Akio, Haruto.” Sengo greeted. “I see you’ve had a busy day.”

“Aaahhh! We’ve been trying to dig this infernal thing out for hours!” the older man groaned. “Kimiko kept complaining about it. ‘Akio, we can’t leave that thing sticking into our living room!’ Well, I sure don’t see her pulling the roots out!”

“Hahaha! Listen to your wife Akio. You know how important it is to get rid of the darn things whenever they pop up inside the village. If we leave them be, they’ll only get worse.”

But Akio shook his head.

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“What’s even the point? We both know an extra vine or two won’t matter when the whole jungle comes alive! Old friend… I’m afraid this is going to be our last feast…”

Sengo didn’t say anything, but Percy didn’t miss how everyone’s mood turned more sombre after the brief exchange. They all understood they were living on borrowed time. As things stood, they couldn’t even venture out to forage for food or more materials. Even if they survived the massacre, who knew if there would be anything edible left out there…

“Come on, Takeo. We need to patch the wall up before the concrete starts to dry.”

Percy nodded, though being called by his host’s name reignited his guilt. He had yet to tell the man the truth, and he was starting to think he’d never find the courage to do so. It wasn’t like the village’s situation was great, but at least Sengo seemed to find peace in his work. Percy didn’t want to rob him of that minor consolation during his last couple of days.

The two worked in silence over the next few hours, filling the broken segment of the wall with the sludge. They used a few metallic sheets propped against the wall to keep the liquid from spilling out. By the time they were done, the others had finished too, returning to their house. Nobody in the village seemed to be in the mood to do much else, besides waiting for the calamity with their loved ones.

“See, Takeo?” Sengo suddenly asked. “Most of the buildings won’t survive the feast, but every wall might just be enough to save an extra life. It’s more productive to do this than to go out there killing people.”

Percy could tell the man really disapproved of his host’s actions. Their differing philosophy on how to approach the feast was probably the core of their strained relationship.

‘Honestly, I can’t even tell which one of them is right…’

Whether it was slaughtering innocents to delay the disaster by a few minutes or trying to build a few extra houses that weren’t likely to survive, none of it sounded like a particularly effective strategy. Of course, it wasn’t like they had a better option. Percy hadn’t personally experienced a feast, but from what he knew about infestations, these people were screwed no matter what they did.

‘I suppose if it’s not going to help either way, I’d rather avoid getting blood on my hands…’

Young and hot-blooded as Takeo was, he had clearly gone with the less moral option. Yet, getting out of this place with his hands clean might not be in the cards for Percy either…

“Aaaahhh!!”

Hearing the scream, Sengo and Percy looked in a certain direction, spotting a few hooded men holding hatchets and sabres in the distance. Percy couldn’t make their faces out, but something told him these people weren’t from the village. One of them dragged a weeping lady across the street, heading towards the jungle. She was the one who had screamed.

Drawing his machete, Percy hastily dropped it by Sengo’s feet so he could defend himself. Next, he unsheathed his sword as he ran towards the raiders. Strictly speaking, he didn’t really have any skin in the game. After all, he wasn’t the real Takeo and this wasn’t his village. Consequently, fighting the raiders to save a local was arguably pointless. That said, watching them butcher innocent people while doing nothing just felt wrong.

“Hold on, son!” Sengo shouted, causing Percy to look back.

The older man was running behind him, clutching the machete in his hand. He looked like he was in pain as he exerted himself, but he carried the aura of a fighter all-the-same. Peace-loving as he was, he clearly knew how to defend himself.

Glancing around, Percy noticed more of the villagers rushing out of their homes, each armed with a finely crafted weapon like his own. It seemed nobody here was a vegetarian.

‘Of course not. Even if they don’t like going out there hunting people, they wouldn’t have survived this long if they couldn’t handle themselves…’

Seeing all the familiar faces, Percy couldn’t help but recall some more of his host’s memories. He remembered the countless hours spent practicing with these people, sparring with them, being taught by them how to hold his sword, how to use it. They were all his teachers… and his friends…

Soon, the villagers stood before the raiders, outnumbering them by about 15 to 10. Percy would have expected them to give up and leave, but they hadn’t done that. And why would they? The more blood that got spilled today the better things would be for the survivors. Evidently, the raiders would rather take their chances.

But Percy wouldn’t.

“I’ll give you one chance to run away. Nobody has to die. Not today, at least.” he said before anybody had the chance to.

The villagers gave him odd looks. Takeo was probably the last person anybody expected to douse the conflict. But he had to do this. Whether it was the locals or the raiders, all of these people were just trying to survive. Percy didn’t want to hurt anybody if he didn’t have to. Sadly, his enemies didn’t seem to agree. They only tightened their grips on the weapons, silently giving Percy his answer.

Watching some of the last surviving natives prepare to kill each other, Percy couldn’t help but recall Sengo’s words from earlier.

‘Sometimes, taking lives and saving them are one and the same...’