474. The Blue Caterpillar
Nexus Awakened (An Isekai LitRPG Gender Bender Story)
474. The Blue Caterpillar
Revy did not stop. The burning reeds turned to a field of wheat before becoming trees. Deeper within the trees grew to an abnormal level. Even the giant trees of Grandis paled in comparison to the ones surrounding them.
Giant mushrooms sprouted from the ground in clusters. A second forest of fungi extended before them. Here, stuffed toys were seen huddled around the base of mushrooms, their bodies half-integrated into it. Vile tendrils took root into their bodies, forever anchoring them in place.
âWeâre in a new area.â Revy noted quietly. âThe mushrooms look dangerous. I donât remember meeting the Mycelli. What about you?â
âMushrooms? Neither.â Alice said. âItâs pretty.â
âWhat do you see instead of mushrooms?â
âGiant umbrellas. Itâs raining.â What Alice saw was entirely different.
â⦠no wonder people are gathered underneath it.â Revy solemnly lamented, paying her respects to the deceased. Strangely enough, most bodies did not belong to children. Rather, Revy didnât think that the corpses belonged to people that were taken here but were derived from twisted memories instead.
During her fight she saw the bodies of old friends scattered around the village. There was no way that they were taken here. So, she had to wonder whose memories were causing these stuffed toys to appear everywhere.
The stuffed toys were arranged in many different positions and took upon a large variety of forms. From animals to monster, from the small to the large, there were no two same stuffed toys in sight.
The ground became narrow as they entered a thicket where skinny mushrooms served as trees, with vibrating tendrils reacting to every sound. A single exhale was enough to stimulate them. Revy moved with caution as she kept Alice held in her arms.
Serum S gave her unnatural strength, and the unique ability to read the status of the entities surrounding them.
Memories of Huddled Rainstorms
Mushroom (Umbrella)
LEVEL : 0
ORIGIN : Memoria
HP : 300
ATT : 100
MAG DEF : 100
AGI : 0
The things in this world were weak. They were only truly dangerous to people that couldnât lift a knife. Revy was shocked to find this. She thought that the reason why she slaughtered the enemies and broke through the walls of the house was because of her strength, when itâs true, it was just that everything in this world was artificial.
The strength fluctuated, however. Some things were far more powerful than others. She theorized that their strength was associated with how much the memory resonated with a person.
âMaybe even affecting prevalence.â
âHmm?â
âUh⦠Nothing. Iâm talking to myself.â
âYou can talk to me.â Alice kindly hummed, reminding Revy of her presence.
âY-Yeah.â She relayed her train of thought to Alice, and the girl also dabbled in deep thought as they wandered on a path, driven only by necessity. âIâm thinking that it takes children because they canât fight back. But even then, itâs weird. Er⦠I-Iâm not really good with my thoughts. Anyone could think of a better reason than me⦠W-Wellâ¦â
Revy looked down at the injured Alice, whose head and hands had cuts all over.
â⦠Maybe my problem is that Iâm looking for logic in a place where it doesnât exist.â
âIn truth, the White Rabbit does not seek to harm.â
âLiesâ¦â Alice hissed, causing Revy to wryly smile. âS-Sorry! Not you! I mean the voice in my head!â
âAhaha. Donât worry about it. Hahaâ¦â Her shoulders slumped as her ears collapsed.
âThis is an evil place.â Alice affirmed. âIt makes people go crazy.â
âThat explains the voices in your head.â
âNo, not that.â Alice gripped Revyâs shirt as they stopped by the entrance of a cave. âThe voices⦠it belongs to the White Rabbit and someone else.â
âIs⦠that right? Ask it what it wants from us.â Revy wore a serious face all of a sudden. âAsk it why itâs doing this! Ask that rabbit what itâs trying to get out of â!â
Suddenly, before Revy could finish, a voice originating from within the cave spoke.
âYou first must answer this: Who are you?â
* * *
Alice couldnât think of a response. The cave within was warm, and along, blue caterpillar could be seen munching from a pink cupcake. They were captivated by the creature, and their bodies were commanded to approach it.
It was twice their size, with many tiny, stubby hands wriggling individually like a colony of worms. It sat on a giant slab of stone, where a pile of cupcakes was piled next to it. But what shocked them the most was not this talking insect, but the fact that its face looked like a certain person.
â⦠Blue Caterpillar.â
âAgateâ¦?â
Alice and Revy respectively spoke, causing the entity to frown.
Blue Caterpillar
Regular Caterpillar (Forsaken Machine)
LEVEL : 0
ORIGIN : Memoria
HP : 30,000n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
ATT : 10
MAG ATT : 10
AGI : 5
âMy name is not as such. I asked for who you were.â
â⦠Me?â Alice pointed to herself. âIâmâ¦â
Something was wrong. While Revy was able to answer immediately, Alice couldnât say her name out loud. Her bodily changes had left her confused on who she currently was. The dried blood and cuts on her hands did not help remind her either.
âAlice.â It answered for her. âYou must be confused about yourself.â
Shocked, Alice nonverbally asked Revy to place her down. With some hesitance, she allowed her to stand on her two feet as she wondered how the Blue Caterpillar was able to know what she was thinking.
âI know as if you had asked aloud.â It answered again. Aliceâs thoughts were no longer those of her own, terrifying her immensely. âBut we are both the same. Confused in a body pre-metamorphosis. This place is not what you think.â
âIs that supposed to be a riddle?â Revy asked but was ignored entirely by the Blue Caterpillar who spoke again in a drawn out, authoritative voice:
âThe silk we spin creates a cocoon of the world around us. But the last thing we think of is always the perception of ourselves. Identity broken. Illusions become a crude splint to maintain who we are, and why we are here.â
Progress wasnât made even when faced with a denizen of this wonderland that could speak. It replied only in cryptic, carefully woven language that while aimed to dispel her confusion, only cast her further into the deep end.