Chapter 6: The Parasitic Rust Tide

But they did not do so.

The little Rust Tide seemed somewhat dejected, its painstakingly maintained humanoid form dissolving away. The other two Rust Tides made no further move to attack either. Perhaps their programming had classified Ye Mi as one of their own, and so, under their rules, they ignored the illogical details? Not only that, but they sat around her in a circle, as if she were part of their 'family.'

For reasons she could not explain, Ye Mi found she could decipher the thoughts of these three Rust Tides. From the way they were grouped, and the actions that followed, it was obvious they regarded her as a pet. After all, a family is not complete without a little pet to make it whole.

Ye Mi revealed her silvery substance, wrapping it around the cat’s body, transforming its once fluffy form into flowing strands of black and silver, now remarkably resembling the misty forms of the small Rust Tide. Tentatively, she moved forward, passing the sheet metal, and came to the small Rust Tide’s feet, attempting to nuzzle it. As expected, it once more condensed into a humanoid shape and lifted her up, holding her affectionately. Its parents merely watched the scene in silence.

Ye Mi could almost sense an emotion akin to 'relief' or 'contentment' in their electronic eyes. In the moonlight, the silhouettes of four monsters huddled together, appearing very much like a real family.

"A method of parasitism I never would have imagined..." Ye Mi mused silently.

At this rate, she would be able to fully control this Rust Tide in less than a day.

She was far from idle. Now that she was close enough, she manipulated her silvery threads to slowly seep into the small Rust Tide’s body through its metallic seams, like a drop of mercury soaking into a rusted gear.

It was difficult to describe the sensation of entering. Corroded fragments scraped repeatedly against her, as if she were passing through a tunnel lined with blades. Ye Mi found being inside a biological body far more comfortable.

She endured this tearing pain and pressed on, until at last, a faint heartbeat reached her.

Thump.

Thump.

The sound was muffled and viscous, as if someone had submerged an old generator in water. Ye Mi burrowed toward the source, finally breaking through the last barrier. The sight before her left her stunned.

A massive, exposed human heart was embedded within a metal cavity, its surface riddled with knotted blood vessels.

From the outside, the heart appeared naked, but from within the Rust Tide’s body, it was actually supported by countless metallic threads. The source of these threads was, in fact, the blood vessels at the heart’s rear.

But the more Ye Mi looked at these vessels, the more familiar they seemed. They were not the usual fine capillaries, but grotesquely swollen, their water-logged, pallid appearance vaguely resembling the layered folds of a cerebral cortex.

With each beat, black syrup oozed ceaselessly from the cracks on the heart’s surface, merging into the surrounding metallic threads.

So, the Rust Tide’s body was essentially formed from the metallic blood excreted by this heart.

"Could it be that these creatures are nothing more than a fusion of heart and brain...?"

Suddenly, she understood. She understood why the Rust Tides possessed such high intelligence, why they exhibited a kind of 'human feeling' uncharacteristic of monsters: they truly were capable of thought.

Rust Tides were not 'metallic life forms' at all, but organs corrupted by the energy of the Light Ruins.

"So... is it possible there could be corrupted lungs and brains, corrupted stomachs and brains, even corrupted intestines and brains...?"

Ye Mi shuddered as she imagined a host of organs stacked with exposed brains, running wild. The aberrations caused by the Light Ruins were truly revolting.

She cast aside these thoughts, focusing on guiding more of her silvery substance to slowly merge with the Rust Tide’s body.

...

The next morning, the sky was still shrouded in heavy clouds.

Ye Mi opened her eyes to a leaden, gray sky overhead. With the final portion of her silvery self unobstructed as it entered the small Rust Tide’s body, she was now fully integrated into this metallic shell, able to sense the vibration of every single metallic thread within.

Though the Rust Tides possessed brains, they were not nearly as intelligent as humans. Perhaps this was a result of their aberrant nature? Ye Mi had combed through fragments of the small Rust Tide’s memories, discovering that the burly and spiked Rust Tides were not a family, but rather beings born of the same ruins, surviving together.

The reason the small Rust Tide could never maintain a humanoid form for long was that it had only just been born—its energy was unstable, and it was still learning to control its body.

She also now understood the gist of their communication from the previous day. They had mistaken Ye Mi for a juvenile of their kind and, hoping to strengthen their group, decided to adopt her.

The Rust Tides were truly social creatures. They had no language, but communicated via entangling metallic threads, transmitting something that could barely be called 'emotion.'

Thinking of this, Ye Mi glanced down at the little cat that had once carried her consciousness. A strange feeling welled up inside her.

The cat’s head drooped, its body cold and stiff.

The cat was dead.

"Meow..."

She instinctively mimicked the cat’s cry from the day before, but the sound that emerged from the Rust Tide’s metallic throat was a distorted screech of grinding metal.

The small Rust Tide—no, it was her now—stiffly bent down and, with cold metal fingers, gently touched the cat’s ear.

It was dead.

She felt a deep sadness.

Ye Mi tried to express this in the Rust Tide’s manner, sending metallic threads dancing through the air.

The burly Rust Tide came over, its electronic eyes flickering rapidly. Clumsily, it raised an arm, tapped the cat’s corpse, and quickly withdrew.

Ye Mi could catch a hint of bewilderment from the burly one.

She could almost read a sort of 'sympathy' in those electronic eyes, which nearly made her laugh.

It had no idea that its own kind was truly dead—it felt sympathy not for that, but for a meaningless little cat.

But that was all. Rust Tides were not human; the passing of life meant little more than surprise to them.

After all, as beings that were once largely bionic, how much genuine human feeling could they possibly possess?

Ye Mi did not dwell on it. She made no sudden moves, but instead observed the two Rust Tides, seeking an opportunity to act.

A new day had begun, and the Rust Tides did not remain in their lair. They needed to go out and 'hunt.'

Led by the burly one, Ye Mi arrived at an abandoned scrapyard.

Fifteen minutes later.

At the entrance to a forgotten industrial garbage dump, a rusted sign smeared with the words 'Biohazard Zone' hung above, but the sagging wire fence behind it was riddled with holes, draped with a few strands of dry vine, making the place seem anything but dangerous.

Perhaps because of yesterday’s rain, the ground ahead grew soft and damp as they proceeded.

Before them loomed an area that could only be described as a 'mountain of tires,' blocking their way.