The 30th of Ymiden 718
Continued from here
They walked behind the diminutive stature of the doctor, the two conscious Oberans keeping quiet, though they communicated mentally. Second had once stolen some abilities from one of Yvithia’s marked, claiming them to use as his own. However, he wouldn’t have been able to keep them indefinitely as it required both focus and his divine ether to hold onto them. Not to mention that each mark was part of an Immortal, and they usually had some connection to their marked. In stealing the powers, Second had also had to take said connection, which would allow the Immortal to be aware of his location and possibly his thoughts at all times. Not wanting to risk facing her wrath if she tracked him down, Oberan had forced the mark into an object, keeping the powers, but getting rid of Yvithia’s interference. As a counterfeit, it wasn’t as powerful as the real deal, but people holding a shard of the rock he’d infused with Yvithia’s mark could communicate with all others who also held a shard, as long as they weren’t too far away.
Neither of them trusted Doubt very much, not anymore after that outburst. However, they did agree that the doctor was their only hope. If he was indeed as skilled as everyone claimed, he should be able to cure Oberan without a problem. For now, they would go along with this.
The four of them arrived in a large space. The walls, ceiling and floor were fashioned from smooth stone, and each step taken echoed through the room. Bright floating orbs of light illuminated the room at regular intervals. Before them laid a steel door without handle or lock, almost identical to the one in the office, but here the Oberans noticed a small, hand-shaped indentation in the metal. Doubt placed his tiny hand in it, and the door rose up into the ceiling without a sound. Second guessed it operated with a combination of gears and pulleys, as well as some minor Attunement infused mechanisms to recognize the frequency of those who had permission to enter. A pretty solid security system, though not one he couldn’t bypass.
Doubt bade them to enter, and the door sealed itself shut behind them.
As was to be expected, the laboratory was filled with medical equipment none of the Oberans recognized, ranging from simple things that resembled ice picks to complicated machinery that undoubtedly had been dreamed up and created by the child doctor himself. The whole room was cluttered with pipes that shook and trembled, spitting steam from valves to power gears and pulley systems. First and Second couldn’t help but stop momentarily to gawk at the technology on display.
“Ah, intrigued by my analyzers?” Doubt noticed, “Impressive machinery, I know.” He pointed to a metal cube that shook violently, making an unholy amount of noise. “This is my Centrifugal Force Generator,” he said when they passed it, “Through the fast spinning motion of the disk inside, the blood samples in the machine will separate in their liquid and cellular components, allowing me to perform tests on the blood serum.”
Both Oberans simply nodded, unsure of what the doctor was saying. Something abut blood, but they didn’t follow past that. Either not noticing their confusion, or maybe just wanting to show off, Doctor Doubt rattled off explanations about every other machine they passed, until they reached another smooth door.
“—Best of all, it’s fully automatic, so I save a whole lot of time, and it requires no additional work forces,” Doubt finished.
“It’s very impressive,” the Oberans spoke in unison. “It must have taken the technicians seasons to set this all up. And to do it so perfectly, they must have been highly skilled!”
“Thank you,” Doubt said with a dip of his head, “but no technicians were necessary. I did all this myself. In my free time I read up on gadgeteering, you see. Took me six hours to master the art. Setting this all up took me only five trials.”
The Oberans weren’t too sure what to think of that revelation. If this was true, was there anything Doctor Doubt couldn’t do?
“We’re almost there,” the child informed them, opening the door and stepping into a long hallway beyond. “Past this corridor lies my examination room.”
Another meaningful glance was shared between the two Mortalborn, and their mental communication began anew. Ideas and concerns were exchanged, and solutions were brainstormed. Neither found it reassuring that the examination room was so far back. If an escape would be necessary, it’d take them far too long to get out. Of course, they did have an advantage over ordinary Mortals.
No sooner had they begun walking down the hallway when their mental discussion ceased entirely. Instead, their eyes ran from wall to wall, noticing room-like structures flanking the walkway. Though each room had three stone walls, the one closest to the corridor was made out of glass. Inside each chamber—nay, cell-- was a humanoid being.
“What the--?” First exclaimed.
“—Actual fuck?” Second finished.
Doctor Doubt turned around with a shrug, beaming a professional smile. “Oh these? Pay them no mind, they are quarantined patients of mine.” He placed a small hand on the glass of one cell, but the being inside didn’t react. It was too occupied with gathering the scraps of paper strewn over the cellfloor. Each piece had lettering on it, reading “+1”. Another room held a man worshipping an altar on which stone carvings of Plus One's stood. In yet a different cell, a woman was sharpening the edges of a metal 'Plus One' figure on a rotating stone wheel. All cells had a similar scene, the people inside obsessed with the snippets of paper, with the Plus One idols, and with tending to metal Plus Ones.
“What is this Doctor? Those people-- What are they doing?” Second questioned, horrified by the view.
He shook his head sadly. “They’re hoarding Points,” he said, “they are obsessed with Points.”
“Points, Doctor?” First frowned.
“Yes, Points. Have you never heard of Points before?” The answer was negative, and the Doctor nodded slowly. “I see, well, Points are—How to explain? Ah! When you practice an action, like doing a backflip, you get better at it over time, yes?”
They nodded.
“That’s what Points do. Each time you practice, you gain Points. However, sometimes, you suddenly become way more skilled than you should be, right? Like, one day you can’t even do a summersault, but the next day you can do a triple backflip?”
Again, they nodded. They had experienced such things, and they had seen it more than once. People who experienced unnatural and monstrous growth in terms of physical and mental abilities.
“That’s also the work of Points?”
“Exactly. More accurately, that’s a case of a whole lot of Points being absorbed in a body at once. It’s a satisfying experience, a thrill like no other. Some people become aware of it, become obsessed with it, addicted to it. They live for Points, they die for Points. Everything they do is for Points. Even when they dream, it’s for Points. And the worst part?”
Oberan First and Second felt a sinking feeling in their gut, a foreboding that they wouldn’t like what they’d hear next.
“No one is immune to this. Points are everywhere. They are a force of nature. We need them in order to survive, just like we need food and drink. In abnormally large quantities, however, it has detrimental effects on the body. There are two types of the Point Zombies. Two stages in the illness. The first is what you saw at the start of the hallway; people obsessed with Points, dedicating every action to them, hoping to gain as much as possible, so they can feel the rush of growth once more.” He paused, gesturing around them with his arms. “The second stage is the Point Burnout. Depending on the resilience of the affected individual, this stage arrives faster or slower, sooner or later. But it comes around eventually.”
There weren’t as many people in the cells here as there were in the previous section, but those that were… their appearance was forever burnt into the Oberans’ minds. They were gaunt, shriveled things. Their skin was dry and flaking off, stretched too thin over their skeletons. Wide eyes stared into the void, unseeing. Neither Second or First could see them move a muscle. There were no signs of life to be detected. All they saw were the husks of creatures who had once been people full of energy. Now, it seemed as if they had died. First and Second felt shivers running down their spine.
“Are they--?”
“They’re not dead,” Doctor Doubt said, “but they’re not alive either. They exist on the thin line in between.”
“How did this—What happened to them?”
“Stage two. As everything they did was in an effort to gain as much Points as possible over a short timeframe, they doomed themselves to this fate. They Burned Out their life’s energy. Their minds couldn’t handle the strain, and the satisfaction of the Points wasn’t enough to keep them going. Gradually, they lost interest. Gradually, something inside them broke. That which vitalized them left their bodies, and all that’s left is a dried up husk.”
A most terrifying fate indeed.
“Come," Doctor Doubt urged the Oberans, who stood as if rooted to the floor, eyes wide with horror. He'd opened another metal sliding door. “We have a ways to go before we reach my examination room. Prepare yourself for a sight worse than this if you want to keep your sanity." The warning was grim, and both Second and First steeled themselves as they approached. “I see this every trial, so I'd forgotten it's not something the feint of heart can handle very well." His eyes shone with steely resillience and the hopeless despair of someone who'd seen many horrible things.
He chuckled at the Oberans' colordrained faces as he turned around again.
There was no humor in its sound.
