Joroboros
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[Re:Cursed] Chapter 79: Evolutions
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 13:40:22 +0000 UTCHey guys, I've added a pdf version for this chap because patreon strips nearly all formatting. So if you want to read as intended, it's there.
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Nyx grasped the evolution option, and the void read her intent. In an instant, her base name shattered into components, and combined with her soup of additives, while electing kryl — the fleshsmith name — as a sacrifice. It was wholly unnecessary but she didn’t want anything to do with the additive, and it was a beneficial way to cut it from herself.
With the temporary disassembly of her name, so too did she lose the ethereal sense that allowed her to see names and curses. As much as she’d love to watch the process, it remained fleeting.
Just as last time, the evolution was a strange, almost fleeting sensation. Despite not currently having a body, it felt like it slipped away from her. Not only her body. The world of options floating around her seeped away into nothing. Only the void remained to embrace her through this process. A cocoon of nothing. And yet, the darkness only seemed to grow darker.
I only chose one evolution, Nyx panicked. Hopefully there will still be time-
Her mind stuttered, and her thoughts fractured.
When her line of thought returned, she couldn’t remember anything of her last thought, except that it had been shattered by the evolution. Instinctively, pointlessly, she cast her eyes around the sightless space, trying to find any indicator for how long it had taken.
Nyx was unnervingly certain that a moment ago wasn’t quite as brief as her consciousness made out to be. She didn’t know how she knew. Just that she did. Her mind and soul splintered, then stitched itself back together to create its new name.
Nỷx̱il
As soon as the name appeared before her mind, not only did her naming sense reappear, but so did the world of options around her. Though, there weren’t nearly as many as before. Now, floating in empty space around her were one hundred and twenty seven options. A far cry from the many thousands from earlier.
Nyxil was almost ready to dive into her next evolution, using the remaining of her names that were ready, but only stopped at a realisation.
Her name had changed, and she’d not even blinked before accepting it and moving on. Didn’t this deserve some celebration? Her base name had expanded beyond a single syllable; anyone else would be ready to throw a party at the news. But Nyxil felt no such desire. All she wanted, was to see if this could do as she intended, and for that, she would need to escape this dreaming void she was stuck in.
She put in a token effort to search through the evolutions for what might be useful, but she already knew what she was going to opt for. As much as the path for each of her names looked unique, she needed the power all of them combined would provide.
Only her blade Talent would be given the freedom to evolve alone. As much as Nyxil was tempted to throw it in with the rest for a much stronger name, the possibility she would lose the future growth potential for the name was too great a risk for now.
Aul-evast-scol-eth-nanaz-juul-nen
The body is a stable trunk in a storm of heavy winds. The body is a fragile twig in an ocean of raging currents. A stable trunk cannot move. A fragile twig can flow unbound. If the ideal is a rooted trunk that can follow rapids, then the only answer is to avert the eye of nature.
Unlike with her base name, her mind didn’t fracture nor did her senses disintegrate. In fact, for the first time, she had a front row seat to an evolution in its entirety.
The puzzle-like components that made up each of the seven names split from each other. Like the unravelling of threads in cloth. As ever, the names held a shape that was incomparable to any physical shape, but the hundreds of pieces that made the name quickly split from their original forms and entered a single spiralling mass.
For a while, they seemed to rotate together, all flowing as one as each individual part slid up besides the other, as if checking whether they were compatible. Nyxil watched two specific components as they clicked into place. Together, they spun together and continued to rotate with the rest around a central point, but now that they were together, it seemed there would be no tearing them apart.
Until a single component crashed into them.
The rude little name-part had been one of the few spinning around in opposite to the average flow. Its impact not only severed the puzzle-pieces from their lock, it shattered them into many, smaller components than their original forms. Soon, what had been three parts — now ten — melded together until not even the seam of a connection remained. This was no longer two puzzle pieces slotted together, but a single, new, component that spun in a cloud of others.
Eventually, the rotation slowed, and the mass of parts converged. The components rotated of their own volition until their slots fit their neighbours perfectly.
It was not the perfect, precise operation Nyxil had always assumed evolutions would be, but a messy, chaotic thing. If not for that rude component, it’s likely her evolution would have resulted with an entirely different name. But regardless of what might have been, she had her new name.
N̚oth
Nyxil delayed any further inspection until she’d completed her third and final evolution for the day.
Thaaren was the simplest of the lot. As a single name, the evolution description was identical to that of the additive itself. And after seeing the destruction and recreation of her last series of names, this evolution was significantly less impressive.
To Nyxil’s sense, the name’s evolution was nothing more than a shift of its components. It was impossible to describe in three dimensional space, but the closest she could comprehend, it was like the sphere of parts grew more surface area to connect, while also becoming more dense. It opened new parts to Nyxil, and hardened what she already knew.
With that done, Nyxil finally had her new, fully evolved name.
Nỷx̱il-n̚oth-thaḁren-ossuul-el-Lyotep
Well, maybe not fully evolved, but she had a feeling she would never fully rid herself of some unevolved names.
From sixteen down to six. It was still far longer than she was used to, yet it felt as right as her name always had. There was a lot for her to work with now. Hopefully, some would be useful when she finally woke and found herself tied up, or trapped in a dungeon, or strapped to a ritual altar… or any of the thousand other horrible scenarios she could think that was happening to her body right now.
The void, despite being nothing but darkness and nothingness, was starting to lose some of its cohesion at its edges. That, or her mind was slipping from this half-dream state now that she no longer had an evolution to perform. Despite the impending danger of the outside world, Nyxil clung to the darkness just a little longer. Better to have a sliver of understanding, than to go blind. She called for her name.
Nỷx̱il-n̚oth-thaḁren-ossuul-el-Lyotep
Nỷx̱il — Curse
N̚oth — The ancient tree was an unfellable thing. A trunk as thick as entire forests. Branches that touched the skies. Roots that went beyond the deepest pits. This tree’s body surpassed all its brothers, sisters, and cousins, yet it was dissatisfied. It could not move. It could not flow in the wind like its children. The streams that endlessly shifted over its roots were both intimate, and forever out of reach. Trapped by its very nature, it strove for more. It forged its roots to walk the land. It bent its branches so it could sail the oceans. When it achieved all it desired, the ancient tree strove for more.
Thaḁren — From early stages of evolution, to the hardened razors of the forge, these weapons have proven themselves time and time again. But a killing edge is only as good as its wielder.
Ossuul — Sever thy worldly possessions. Order and structure remain an unending scourge, ever unquestioned, ever intrusive. They interfere with the hidden, yet ubiquitous nature of things. Only by crawling, and scraping, and shattering the body, yet leaving it without damage, can such sinister oppression be punctured.
El — Burn bones like candles.
Lyotep — Perseverance. Survival. Slaughter. Knowingly matched with the impossible, each are equal without compromise. There lies no middle ground for those of unmitigated desire, lest the soil crumble and the sky, fall.
Nyxil stared, annoyed. She’d known it was more than likely that her base name would be omitted and labelled cursed again, but she’d been hoping it would slip through at least some hint that the name did what she wanted. Now, she would just have to wait and see.
Slipping her focus onto the next name, she found her annoyance growing, rather than letting up. Sure, the cryptic names typically meant they were strong, but the evolution description had been unclear enough as it was. This wasn’t any better. All Nyxil could decipher, was that it likely had something to do with forging and shaping her body. And that was just from the two lines about the tree changing its branches and roots. She couldn’t even guess at what it was hinting when it specified a strive for more.
Well, as long as she could continue to enhance her movement and empower her mutations — especially any new ones she gained — Nyxil would be happy.
The void was finally seeping away too greatly to ignore. Nyxil tried to settle her mind, and prepare for anything that might appear before her when she opened her eyes, but such effort grew increasingly difficult as her consciousness returned to a state of exhaustion. There would be no immediate waking; she still had years of sleep to catch up with. Despite her best efforts, Nyxil’s mind shut down.
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Nyxil woke with a scream, and bit off her tongue.
She twisted her body side to side, ready for an attack from any direction. Her claws were sharp, and ready to slice at anything that moved. Her third eye was already straining to burn, but for some reason, she couldn’t see. Even her tentacles raised to defend her, with Pushy feeling at her hip for a blade that was no longer there.
It took Nyxil far longer than she’d ever admit to realise she was alone, and not under immediate threat. She didn’t have chains binding her hands. An altar was not beneath her, ready to cast her off into the black hole once again. Not even an observer was left to make sure she wasn’t doing anything untoward.
Nyxil’s eyes dropped as the squirming mass of muscle finally stopped moving beneath her. The mouth in her tongue was baring its fangs, letting her know just how it felt about being severed from the rest of her whole. Her tongue sat in a small puddle of saliva. That small puddle burnt through the centre of a rough-patched doona and ate at the metal beneath what used to be a carpet.
The recently evolved girl blinked, and she realised the doona was still semi-draped over herself.
She looked around the room again, and realised she was within that guest room in Tarchon’s home. To her side, was the bed — she noticed she’d been lying on the floor — where the mattress was shredded. It looked like somebody had dropped a feral vitiate beast onto the bedding and let it run wild. Amongst the mess of white down feathers, there were some larger black ones… and even a couple red.
Nyxil reached down for her tongue, and with a handful of mould, she threw it back in her mouth. It would heal soon enough; she just had to hope her second mouth wouldn’t bite her cheek too hard in revenge.
Making to stand up, Nyxil found that while she felt better than she had in years, she still lacked a leg. Her tentacles supported her, so she didn’t fall, but it was a stark reminder that she wasn’t in the greatest position to fight.
Which was something that leapt to the forefront of her list of options when Tarchon walked in, looking all too displeased for Nyxil’s taste.
“I do hope you’ll be truthful this time.” Steam burst from the top of Tarchon’s shoulders as the whirring grind of an angry motor let Nyxil know just how impatient he was. “If not… well, I’m sure you can guess.”
His deliberate glance towards her mutations truly drove home the situation Nyxil was in. There was no more hiding.
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This is about as close as i'll ever probably get to giving a stat sheet, lol. (also, sorry for doubling up on some of the descriptions. I wanted to put everything together as one, even if you'd already seen it all.)
Comments
Napalm078
"Nyxil was almost ready to dive into her next evolution, using the remaining of her names that were ready, but only stopped at a realisation." *stopped at a realization "Nyxil was almost ready to dive into her next evolution, using the remaining of her names that were ready, but only stopped at a realisation." *were ready, but stopped at a -only isn't necessary here "All she wanted, was to see if this could do as she intended, and for that, she would need to escape this dreaming void she was stuck in." *All she wanted was to see "It was impossible to describe in three dimensional space, but the closest she could comprehend, it was like the sphere of parts grew more surface area to connect, while also becoming more dense." *dimensional space, but as close as she could comprehend, "Hopefully, some would be useful when she finally woke and found herself tied up, or trapped in a dungeon, or strapped to a ritual altar…" *when she finally awoke and found herself "Nyxil tried to settle her mind, and prepare for anything that might appear before her when she opened her eyes, but such effort grew increasingly difficult as her consciousness returned to a state of exhaustion." *settle her mind and prepare for
phantom
To be fair aside that she didn't correct him. she vocally refused to give information last time when he did ask.
Joroboros
Lol, nah. I'd be torturing myself if i did, haha. These have been some of the hardest to write.
ekwood
Good job keeping her name evolution pretty interesting, but that was still practically three whole chapters of bookkeeping. Hope this isn't going to be the new norm.
Metal(Liz)ard🏳️⚧️
Tarkin is upset at her for his own delusions and her not correcting him about them lmao. Maybe he should aim for a name of self reflection next
Draxas
That name is getting pretty close to the Crawling Chaos
phantom
Huh. Though she would have fused rhythm with her weapon. That would enhance it. Though it fits in nice with her body name too. but I worry her weapon name will fall off unless it gets merged with her name down the road.
Summer Coff
Much as I love this chapter, it could probably use a proofreading pass before it hits RR. That said, I completely understand. I wonder exactly how truthful Nyxil will be, next time?
