HSR: A Passing Crimson

Merris woke up after a good night's rest. Though, it was hard to say if he actually slept through the night since he was out in space... among the stars.

Was it even appropriate to call it sleeping though the night when the night was perpetually around him?

He didn't want to know.

In any case, he had a refreshing sleep. So good, in fact, that he was already sitting up in his bed.

However, he was currently facing a dilemma...

"...I'm hungry."

He grimaced while patting his stomach. It was an understatement to say that he felt hungry— no, he felt like he had been starving for days!

Still, it wasn't at the point where he would go berserk and revert back to his alien primal form. It was just an unbearable feeling with his stomach constantly making low growling noises.

"Is it because I'm a voracious alien creature now?"

He murmured, his mind wandering off to the root of the problem. However, truth be told, it wasn't that hard to make a guess.

He was now an alien creature that was dependent on frequently eating biomass, not to mention having deep primal instincts, his hunger right now can be easily explained with just this factor.

"That must be it... Darn it." He clicked his tongue, clearly dismayed over the matter. "If that's the case... then I need to eat something soon."

He has some inkling of knowledge of what could possibly happen if he allowed himself to continue on without eating.

Based on his memories...

'I'd more or less revert back to that gross amalgamation if I don't satiate this...'

In some possible scenarios, such a thing wouldn't have alarmed him to this extent. However, with the current circumstances, he has no choice but to prevent his reversion from happening. After all...

'If Acheron sees me in that reverted form... Ugh.'

He had a clear idea of what would happen if she saw him in that gross form. Either he'd be ejected to space as an impostor or be sent to the Horizon of Existence, doomed to enter the Nihility via Acheron's blade.

Remembering what happened to his excess biomass that was left behind to fight Acheron back in the IPC's spaceship, he gulped. The last memories he retrieved from that excess biomass was just a gleam of her blade before everything became dark. It didn't even take a second for her to completely annihilate it.

In other words, instantaneous disintegration. He has no way of fighting back against her in any way.

Like an ant to an elephant, the difference was just vastly tremendous.

Shuddering a bit, Merris became even more determined to satiate his hunger.

"I should... go out and meet her. Maybe she has some snacks on the ship."

Making up his mind, he parted with the white bed sheets and stood up. After doing so, he lingered for a bit before walking over to the sealed metallic doors.

However, on his way, he suddenly got a glimpse of a full body mirror which had a coat hanger beside it where his supposed overcoat was hung.

"Hm?"

Stopping abruptly, Merris looked back at his reflection in the full body mirror, seemingly lost in a thought. His eyes dilated as his interest was caught by the sudden distraction.

"...interesting."

He murmured to himself as he walked closer to the mirror, still inspecting his own body displayed on the surface.

There, in the mirror, the figure of a tall, lean young man with a pale complexion wearing a white loose shirt and similarly white loose pants with a string stood.

His raven-black hair and abyssal black eyes, however, contrasted deeply with his skin tone and outfit, giving him a phantasmal image.

However, what caught his interest the most was his face.

"I look... exactly the same."

He said as he lifted his hand— white and porcelain with faint signs of veins bulging— and touched his face.

It was the same.

'There's no denying it... This is exactly how I looked prior to everything.'

Truth be told, Merris slightly feared that his appearance would distort to resemble all the facial features of the people he ate. After all, to create his current human form, he needed their biomass.

Fortunately, his transformation turned him into what he looked like before becoming an alien creature.

Still, there were some minor changes that he barely noticed.

From here and there, some blemishes that he previously had were corrected. He wasn't handsome to the point of being a shining superstar, or anything like that, but his face still makes it hard to ignore him in a crowd.

'...that's all great and all, but why do I look like those generic plotting villains?'

He murmured to himself in a self-deprecating manner.

'I wonder if...'

Curious of something, he controlled his facial expression, his eyes turning soft and a faint smile appearing on his face. It was just a normal smile— an average, every day smile... yet why did his reflection show someone who looked like they were scheming something?

'Ah.'

It is as he had feared. He looked... cunningly untrustworthy. Well, that was putting it too nicely. If he were to describe himself truthfully, it would certainly be...

Shady.

Stopping his smile, a brittle sigh escaped his lips. He didn't know whether this was a blessing or a curse— to look like a shrewd crafty fox, but, just as he had accepted his new life, he could only also accept this.

'This won't come biting me back, would it?'

Be it as it may, havig a charismatic face like that could certainly be useful. He just has to make sure that he didn't come off as a shady person, of course.

'...that begs the question, though. How did Acheron find it in her heart to trust someone with a face like this?'

He tried to ponder over this matter, but he couldn't come up with a possible reason.

'Another oddity of the universe, perhaps.'

Shaking his head, he shook off his reverie. Pondering over such matter would only make him more hungry. As such, he resumed his walk, intending to find food.

---

Merris walked along the Space Vessel owned by Acheron. It wasn't huge— at least, compared to the spaceship owned by the IPC where he was held captive— however, it had enough facilities to make it suitable for long journeys in space.

Passing by another metallic door, Merris opened it and peered his head inside.

"Miss Acheron? Are you here?"

However, there was no response.

Sighing faintly, Merris walked inside while scratching his head. As he did so, he once more habitually murmured to himself.

"She told me to find her once I've recovered... but where exactly is she?"

He had already circled the vessel. The clinic, engine room, control room, and even the bathrooms! Yet he found no traces of her.

He did find her quarters, but it was locked. He knocked a couple of times, too, but no one answered him. He also didn't want to enter, and so, he left.

Still, her sudden disappearance made him curious.

'It can't be...'

Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind. Since Acheron couldn't be found anywhere, there was only one possibility for such a scenario.

'...she's not lost is she? In her own Space Vessel?'

He wasn't underestimating her— goodness no— rather, he concluded such a thought through logic and reason.

If his memories serve right, Acheron should be quite directionally-challenged. Though, by how much, he did not know. Still, getting lost in your own ship? Even he found such a thought ludicrous.

...but he couldn't help but feel that was the case.

'Should I go find her? But—'

Just as he began to worry about his savior, the growling of his stomach grew louder. However, this time, it wasn't something as simple as making a sound— no, his stomach audibly growled!

"Roar..."

A low, audible growl reminiscent of something emitted by monsters escaped his stomach.

'What the?!'

Even Merris was shocked by his own body. His eyes contracted widely as he tried to muffle his stomach's beastly noises.

'That's not good... I need something— anything to eat!'

His mind raced as he, too, raced against time. His eyes moved swiftly and scanned the room he entered, intending to find something edible to eat.

"...huh?"

However, to his surprise, what appeared in front of him was something he could easily recognize. Even if the tools and equipment changed, they still looked similar to the ones he frequently used— it was the kitchen!

He was in the ship's kitchen!

"..."

Staring at the haven of salvation in front of him, Merris temporarily paused... before his body moved faster than his thoughts.

---

"..."

Meanwhile, the owner of the vessel, Acheron, was walking along a corridor, her head looking at the names of the rooms she passed by.

"...I really should put some signs around here."

She murmured to herself, her tone mixed with dejection and flatness.

Sure enough, Merris was right— she had, indeed, gotten lost in her own vessel.

"Merris should have woken up by now..."

Remembering him, her mind briefly wandered to the reason why she helped him in the first place. Due to her goals and reasons, guiding others was her duty and she would have helped him regardless of his position or background.

However, currently, she harbors a suspicion that he knows more than he lets on. She believed that he had truly lost some of his memories, but the feeling of him lying kept permeating her senses. And she... she had always trusted her senses.

A lone survivor from an alien massacre? As miraculous as it sounds, it was equally suspicious.

Be it as it may, if he truly does have something to do with the massacre and plots to do something to her too, then she could just easily... guide him back.

...back to the afterlife, that is.

Nudging her head, she decided to get off that train of thought and looked around, her expression dazed a bit.

"...where was the clinic again?"

She then grabbed the hilt of her blade as she deeply pondered over this matter. By doing this, she could better recall memories, as such, it had become a habit of hers.

Due to her circumstances, some of her memories are... suppressed, and only when she unleashes her blade do they come back to her.

...but by doing so, unwanted and painful memories would only resurface.

She hesitated, her hand resting at the hilt, before she firmly grasped it. Holding on to her unsheathed blade, she was just about to unleash it, when suddenly, something stopped her.

Her nose suddenly picked up a scent.

"...this is?"

However, she wasn't surprised by the fact that someone was cooking somewhere, rather, she was surprised by one mundane fact.

She could smell.

Due to her... affliction... she had mostly lost her sense of smell. Most scents and flavors have already been lost to her— such as spice— as such, when she does pick up a scent, it tantalizes her.

Releasing her grip from her blade, she followed the scent lingering in the air.

Truth be told, this was a much better method for her to travel. Because, rather than remembering a path, she could simply trust her senses to lead her. This method, although crude, had helped her a couple of times in the past.

Following the trail of scent, it didn't take long for her to reach a familiar room.

The metallic doors opened, and she saw...

"Oh, miss Acheron! You're here!"

There, wearing a white apron, the patient she was nursing was holding a silicon spatula on one hand and a pan on the other.

However, a moment later, his face became pale as a look of shame took form.

"Oh, umm... About this, erm..."

Looking at him, Acheron's mind raced for a moment before speaking.

"...are you fully healed?"

"Yes? Oh, oh yes, I am! Um... I woke up feeling extremely hungry and had no choice but to find food. I-I'm sorry for using your kitchen without your permission..."

Watching his timidly nervous explanation, Acheron's eye observed him closely, analyzing his movements and words. Then, she responded to him.

"No, it's fine."

"Really?"

"Yes. A patient should always prioritize their health. As for this..."

She then shifted her gaze to the meals prepared by him, all prepped up on the table.

"Oh, yes— seeing how... limited... the pantry was, I had to improvise with the ingredients. Fortunately, the dishes that came out turned out well."

"You know how to cook?"

He knew the meaning behind those words. She wasn't ridiculing him, no, she was asking if he had regained some of his memories.

Fortunately, he knew how to respond to it.

"Yes, indeed. In fact, the moment I turned on the stove, I knew exactly what to do. Before I knew it, I was cooking."

"Hmm... Then your past experiences must still be affecting you despite your memory loss."

"Is that how it is?"

"Yes, I've seen some cases of this happening in the past. It should be called muscle memory, if I'm not wrong."

Their conversation flowed naturally, much to Merris' relief. That was exactly what he was hoping for— casual and laid-back conversations without tension.

Then, taking off his apron, he smiled at Acheron.

"Then, how about we dig in? I can assure you, miss Acheron, that my cooking would be..."

With the assurance of the creature of pure voracity, one could be assured that anything cooked by such a being was bound to taste good.

"...Scrumptious."