"Make me one with Babylon? What do you mean?"
The oracle responded, "The leviathan race is not a whole race by itself. It is more like a modifier to one's race. Anybody can become a leviathan; the level of their bloodline only depends on what Babylon decides to grant them. We, the oracles, oversee the transformation."
"Why? Why would you want to make me one?"
"The Serpent of this province is hoping to ensure your loyalty. He is giving you power and hopes to make use of your services in exchange."
"No, no, no, never." Farron sniffed, "Never. Never. Never. No!"
"You will not be forced to serve. Even Babylon cannot do that easily, so please, remain calm."
"No! No, you cannot buy me! Not after what you did!"
It tried to placate him by telling him what was technically true but also deceptive in nature. "We did nothing, I assure you. Anything you believe was done to you by Babylon will be compensated for later."
The oracles were not loyalists of The Great Leviathan—in fact, they despised their creation—but if they did not convert Farron into a leviathan, a far worse fate awaited them than whatever their subject would experience.
Calming down the subject simply served to make their job easier. They wouldn't lie, but half-truths would suffice in most cases.
"No! You can't bring her back!"
"Perhaps, but neither can anything else, so the only option is to move on."
"No! No, no, no!"
Seeing that bargaining was getting them nowhere, the other oracles continued to talk with him to distract him while the other stood up and gently guided him to a bed.
It was so effective that Farron only noticed what was happening when he began to sit down. But the bed didn't have white sheets or blankets.
It looked like the furthest thing from a typical bed, except for the white plastic frame that kept its contents secure.
It was more like a gray Newtonian fluid, almost like quicksand, and as soon as his body touched it, the one who had been guiding him and another nearby quickly and violently submerged most of his body.
Only his head, hands, and knees were above the surface, and as soon as he was in place, despite the curses hurled at them, one of the oracles touched a button on the side of the frame. As soon as the button was pressed, the fluid solidified, encasing most of him in a solid gray composite material.
A cacophony of shouts and curses reached the ears of the oracles, but they continued preparing regardless.
Several tools were arranged on a rolling cart, some looking quite insidious.
One nonchalantly asked, "We have what we need to convert a human here, right?"
"Ah, not really. We have some of it, but we don't have the aerosol versions of the drugs. We don't have any needles, either."
"No needles? How is that possible? We had a ton of them last month."
"I don't know, but they're gone. I don't think anybody stole them, but they're not here, so I guess we must have used them.."
"Well… That's… Unfortunate… Let's see. What else can we do?"
"I think the only other option is an intraosseous infusion."
Farron failed to recognize the term. The nascent mastery of the local language given to the lords in the contest was broad but not complete. Many terms associated with a specific field were not included, particularly technical knowledge.
"Really? Ugh. I hate doing anything intraosseous."
"Yeah? Well, do you want to be on the receiving end of it? What do you think he's gonna feel about it?"
"The receiving end? Really? Which of my zero bones do you propose we use to access my nonexistent cardiovascular system?"
The oracle sat silent for a moment before saying, "Shut up and hand me the drill."
"No anesthesia?"
"You don't need it for this."
"You're drilling into his bone. What do you mean 'You don't need it'?"
"Well, it doesn't matter because we don't have anything compatible with his anatomy, anyway. You want to give him articunexin, go ahead, but don't blame me when he dies because his blood has a pH of 3."
Reluctantly, it handed over a small metal device that resembled a gun with a stunted barrel and straight grip, and when it received it, it held it to Farron's tibia bone, just below the synovial joint's sac, and pulled the large plastic trigger.
As soon as it did, a spring-loaded drill quickly pierced into the medullary cavity but drew no blood until the oracle screwed off a cap on the back of a device.
However, it quickly grabbed and attached a tube to the back of it so that he wasn't leaking bone marrow, and on the other end of the tube was a bag of a slightly red opaque drug.
Soon, it flowed through the tube to his leg, and as soon as it began to circulate, it began to drain his energy.
On the other side, another infusion was being prepared, this one full of nutrients suitable for humanoid species, and as it was being prepared, he fell asleep despite trying his best to fight against it.
After they were finished preparing him, they released him from the bed and transferred him onto a more mobile one that was composed of a similar material. There was just a little more give to this one so that it could accommodate the changes better and wouldn't break as easily.
After he had been transferred, they opened a door that seemed to be invisible against the stone wall and pushed his bed through, along with the other equipment. They soon accompanied and placed him in a small room off of that hallway.
In the other nearby rooms, others were going through the same thing.
There, he was kept for over a week, where he experienced nightmare after nightmare over the same event.
Over the course of the week, his body began to slowly change. Red scales began to appear, and his already developed body became even more sturdy and muscled.
His bones also became denser and other various physiological changes made him more resilient and stronger.
After it was complete, he was released from the bed while still unconscious and was set up in a luxurious room in the palace.
When he awoke, it took quite some time for brain to adjust to his new eyes. They had been greatly improved, though the field of vision was significantly narrower. After it had been adjusted, he unsteadily rose from the bed.
He wasn't used to the difference in the length of his gait or his body's new power yet. As soon as he rosea mirror. He had slick red scales, an angular maw, and many other new features that were unfamiliar to him.
When he saw himself, he immediately smashed the silver mirror in rage and threw the empty wooden frame across the room, where it shattered.
He began to pant, and tears began to leak from his eyes again. His emotions were still running high after so long.
After destroying the mirror, he began to explore the room and stumbled through an open glass door and out onto a balcony.
He limped further forward to get a better view and clumsily rested his clawed hands on the limestone railing.
In front of him was a heart of Babylon, and beyond that were mountains. And above the mountains was the setting sun. The red setting sun. The color of fury.
And in full view of the sun, of Life, Farron's Dionysus was forming within him. Into the face of it all, the face of Life, Babylon, and himself, he roared his outcry of pain, grief, and loss. He roared everything he felt.
-
I really like this book; however, I've come to realize that this book is not well-suited for Webnovel. Because of a few factors, it isn't very popular on this site. Therefore, I'm greatly disinclined to continue it, and this is likely to be the last chapter (published here, at least. I may continue it privately later).
I developed quite a bit of backstory, lore, and world-building for this book, however, and it would be a shame if it were to go to waste, so if you have any questions about the races, characters, magic system, etc that I have not gotten a chance to explain in these 13 chapters, please ask. I'd love to answer.
I apologize for the abrupt end if you were enjoying the book; however, if you enjoyed it, I'm likely to begin work on another book that is more suited to this site and its readers (hopefully without diminishing any positives of my writing), so look out for it in the future. Support for it would be greatly appreciated.