"I spent days trying to find you — and truthfully, this place suits you."
Lucian was not just hearing things, the lizard truly was speaking in a language he could fully and clearly understand. Perhaps on any other occasion, he would probably be somewhat ecstatic in finally having someone to actually talk to after millions of years of being alone.
There was a somewhat stereotypical notion that the older one becomes, the wiser and quieter they become — but that was not the case at all. The older one is, the more stories they have to tell, and they reach a certain point where they would actually start talking to themselves.
That is what happened to Lucian.
He wanted to rush toward Shakira to ask who this lizard was, but for some reason, he was not excited at all — in fact, he was worried.
"What is going—" Lucian was about to approach them, but as soon as Shakira saw him approaching, she quickly glared at him with a subtle pleading look, almost as if telling him not to approach. But of course, that made Lucian even more worried, but before he could actually even approach, something happened that made him completely stop.
The mutated talking lizard began to shed—no, not exactly. The lizard's body started to tear apart, and very slowly, something emerged from inside it that grew larger and larger in size.
"That's…" Lucian's imaginary eyes widened as he quickly recognized what the lizard was turning into, "...a human?"
It was a man, a large man — and it wasn't only Lucian's perspective from being a napkin on the ground that made the man large, no. Lucian could tell even though the man was still kneeling and curled on the ground that he was much larger than Lucian's father.
And as the old man stood up, his muscles almost seemed like they exploded with each move; the man's white long hair, almost touching the dirty ceiling of the sewer. But perhaps the most imposing thing about the man was the large gash adorning his back — it seemed like it was still throbbing.
"You must be so confused and afraid right now," the old man then spoke as he looked down on Shakira, who almost did not even reach his shin; his voice, causing a quiet whisper to reverberate throughout the entire sewer,
"Do you even remember me? Do you even remember… what you are?"
"Hss…"
"I am not talking to you, pathetic abomination!"
"Shakira!"
And as the old man just suddenly grabbed Shakira from the ground, Lucian could no longer just keep hiding as he rushed toward the old man; his napkin-like body, spinning incredibly fast before shooting itself toward the old man's ankle.
"Wh…" But alas, even with Lucian being filled with energy by just having absorbed a ton of radiation, the old man did not even seem to feel anything at all.
"You think I was talking to you?" The old man pinched and lifted Shakira's head with two fingers as he placed her right in front of his face, "You, a pitiful result of the humans' arrogance."
The old man's voice was almost trembling with disgust as he looked at Shakira — to the point that he did not even notice at all that Lucian was already on his shoulder.
"Ha… you can not even hear me yet, can you?" The old man then just let out a small scoff as he looked at Shakira's belly, "And perhaps it should stay that—Hm?"
The old man then tilted his head to the side as he saw a piece of slightly slimy napkin crawling across his arm.
"Shakira, I'm—"
"Ack…" And like an insect, or perhaps truly just mere trash, the old man just flicked Lucian away, "...I wish to stay in this place no longer. Shame, I truly thought I could gloat more — but to think you are not even born yet."
"Kh…" Lucian went straight through the wall; his ooze splattering everywhere. He did not even heed it any mind, however, as he just let himself drop from the wall and once again quickly rushed toward the old man.
"Truly, a shame…"
Lucian felt the temperature inside the sewer rise as the old man's eyes began to glow as he whispered; trickles of electricity, sputtering and exploding from them. And as soon as Lucian saw that, he hastened his pace.
He made sure to look at Shakira, just to see her staring back at him with a very gentle smile on her face.
"No… no…" Lucian hastened his pace even faster, using his tendrils almost like a spider's leg to get to Shakira. But—
"...Goodbye, Old Friend."
"!!!"
As those words uttered from the old man's lips, a bright light completely blinded everything. Lucian did not really know what happened next as he just felt himself being blown away, followed by a loud thunder which most likely boomed across the entire sewer.
Lucian could not be knocked out nor incapacitated — he was just sperm on a napkin, after all. But he felt himself, for the very first time, almost as if asleep and not wanting to move at all; even when the thunder died down and everything calmed… he just planted himself beneath the rubble.
"Shakira…" But as soon as those words escaped his imaginary lips, Lucian quickly got up; crawling his way out of the debris of cement and trash he was buried in to try and find Shakira — but he did not need to search at all, because right in the middle of all the chaos completely devoid of trash and debris…
…was Shakira, for the very first time, being veiled by the beauty of the moon.
"Shakira…!" Lucian could care less about the world outside, however, as he quickly crawled toward her.
But she was gone; her body, burnt and most of her limbs were missing — there was no beauty with this at all.
"Ha…hahaha…" And the only thing that Lucian could really do as he lay beside Shakira was to laugh in his mind — an imaginary laugh that almost seemed like it also traveled across the sewer.
"Why… why?" Lucian looked up at the moon above, "What is your problem with me!? Then, and even now… you refuse to make me happy. Why!?"
And once more, Lucian cursed at the gods.
"You mock me, is that it!?" Lucian moved closer to Shakira, "You… you… no… no! No!"
Lucian then climbed on top of her, almost as if giving her one final embrace, or just once again wanting her to carry him one final time.
"Eduardo… I'm sorry… I couldn't… I couldn't even protect—!!!"
Lucian then suddenly flinched as he felt a certain thump coursing through his body—no. It wasn't just his body, he was also feeling the thump… from Shakira.
And it wasn't a thump at all — it was a heartbeat, echoing around and wrapping Lucian completely.
"Your… your baby…" Lucian slightly panicked, not knowing whether to move or not, "...It's alive?"
Lucian then focused all of his attention on Shakira's baby. And there, he once again heard a throb that resonated across his entire body. It was weak, however… incredibly so.
"It's… dying," Lucian whispered, "Your baby is—no. No, no… I won't let that happen… not anymore, no…"
And very slowly, Lucian's body began to almost compress — shrink. The napkin, rolling into a thin strip as he very slowly crawled toward Shakira's vagina. He doesn't know why he was doing this, he just knows that he needed to do it — his body was telling him to do so.
It was instinct; his body was not even listening to him anymore as it just entered deep inside Shakira.
"I apologize for desecrating your body, Shakira," Lucian then whispered, "But…
…This is the only way."
It did not really take long for Lucian to find the baby inside Shakira — and it seemed completely underdeveloped, its only resemblance to its mother was its lower body. And its only resemblance to its father was its large rat-like ear that grew even with its still underdeveloped face.
"You will live…" And then, very gently and even more slowly, Lucian wrapped himself around the fetus; veiling it, acting as its shell to protect it from everything.
"...We will live."
A second.
A minute.
An hour.
A day.
Or perhaps it could even be an entire week — Shakira's corpse was unmoved, relishing the sun and the light of the moon.
But of course, like most life; very soon, Shakira played her role in the circle of life as a butterfly with razor-sharp pincers as its mouth decided to come down the sewer and feast on her rotting corpse; its colorful wings, letting out an almost rhythmic glimmer.
It tore through its stomach… until it found that it could not anymore as its pincers almost snapped from clipping something hard. The butterfly tilted its head to look at what it was —
—it was an egg, or at least it seemed like it.
And very soon, this egg started to crack; well, not exactly. It opened up like a flower, blooming and coming alive.
But for the butterfly, however, it made no difference at all. And it could no longer wait for it to completely crack open as it lowered its head and decided to use its pincer to force it open. But before it could even hit the egg…
…a very, very tiny hand suddenly emerged and grabbed its pincer.