Filling the Gaps

Wow. Sequel. I gotta thank the reviews that spurred me to continue it. I might clear up a few of my theories here, too. I'll probably do an epilogue to Fly Me to the Moon as well eventually. Anyway, this is what's going on with the God Eater during the process. Feel free to imagine the character as your own (If you're female, great! If you're male...improvise, XD. Sorry guys but I hope you still like it!)


This was it. There was no turning back. The heavy steel doors shut tight behind me, making the room hiss and rumbled with the pressurized lock. I frowned. If that door was that heavily armored then whatever awaited me must be… I shuddered to think about it. Instead, I held my head up high and walked towards the center of the room. My eyes flitted to the narrow viewing window above.

"Sorry to keep you. Let me welcome you here to humankind's last fortress, Fenrir."

The director's voice echoed through the armored room from the speakers. This compatibility test as they so clearly explained was simple. Place your hand on the contraption, take a deep breath, and relax. It didn't seem hard. I steadied my breathing after realizing it picked up and hesitantly placed my hand on the hilt of the blade in the machine.

Five seconds. Ten seconds. Nothing—

Slam! The machine came crashing down on my arm with a loud metallic clang. I expected a sick, crunching sound from broken bone, but all I heard was a strange slurping and chewing sound. Was the machine…devouring me? Every survival instinct in my body told me to run—to get away, even if it meant cutting my arm off. But no. I've done enough running in my lifetime.

Back in the ghetto, the local boys would dream of becoming God Eaters. Dads would leave and come home every so month with stories of glory or courage. The lonely flocked to the single men that had the time to visit. Meanwhile the other women were always waiting. Waiting for a friend, boyfriend, or husband. When the call finally came asking for myname, a girl's name, I was filled with mixed feelings. Horror at the thought of fighting the monsters that terrorized humankind. Pride that I was chosen out of everyone in the ghetto as a potential candidate for New-type God Eaters. Hope that I can be the protector instead of the protected. Fear that I could die any moment, be it from the monsters that roamed the world or the Oracle Cells that would fight with mine after each injection.

This first one is already proving to be…difficult.

The bracelet didn't just feel like it was sawing into my arm. It was devouring it! Each slither felt like it was lined with saw-like teeth. Each lick was accompanied by stabbing pains that suspiciously felt like fangs. Each breath felt like burning acid on the sensitive flesh under the machine. Yet despite the pain I felt something else. It was almost as if the machine or whatever was devouring me was resonating in my head.

Emotions that didn't belong to me flooded my body. Loneliness. Pity. Remorse. And above all, hunger—hunger for so much more than mere nourishment. All of them seemed to emanate from the machine clamped down on my wrist. I whimper more from this onslaught more than the burning pain on my flesh.

"I see… So that's it…" I whispered and eased the pressure from my nails on my skin. I smiled down at the machine, not caring how absurd it looked. Oracle cells… They weren't simply mindless cells that gave humans superhuman strength. They had minds of their own. They could think. They could hurt. They could feel. If that's truly the case then I will do whatever I can to acknowledge your existence. Not only as an asset but also as a partner. "Have you had your fill?"

The terrible tearing of my skin momentarily ceased. Perhaps it was in shock? I could feel it now. Hesitation. Trepidation. Consideration. It was testing me for doubt and selfish trickery. I had no such room in my heart for such thinking. In a world where the world has ended and humanity is on the brink of destruction, I refuse to give into such a vulgar way of living—of surviving. I will stand on my own two feet and stare whatever fate humanity must face head on.

The machine eases up and reveals a crimson red bracelet around my wrist. So you're the one that I was speaking to? I felt something slither beneath the bracelet where metal made contact with flesh. This time there was no saw-like abrasion. Instead it was warm and apologetic—like a cat's tongue after it scratched you up. I grabbed the sword on the machine table instinctively and lifted it with ease. A black claw-like appendage rose from the bracelet and connected me with the God Arc, sealing the contract between human and God. I smiled at the bracelet.

Will a human turn into a god? Or a God turn into a human?

We'll just have to find out, won't we?