As it turns out, vengeance was NOT immediate, or swift. This was perhaps due to the fact that the people who had detained him were not in fact trying to personally hurt or disadvantage Kain. It might also be due to the fact that Kain was now in a detention facility. The fact that Kain was also very elderly and very weak might have something to do with this. Regardless, Kain was now inside of a facility that worked and operated relatively similarly to a twenty-first century human prison, and suffice to say, he was not enjoying the experience. He was generously given a blanket, basic clothes, an ID to allow him to get rations, and set himself up with classes to learn a trade. The food was bland, his blanket was stolen in minutes on the first day, and most of his rations were stolen regularly. Larger detainees, during common area time, had taken to beating him or treating the elderly ape like a servant. At night, his dreams took him to that endless plain of battle where the white apes dwelled. Many people would’ve broken. Unlike with other moments in his current situation, the time period Kain had been raised in prepared him well for these problems: he had no expectations that he would be happy, comfortable, or well-treated. These were relatively modern developments, and Kain was not a modern man.

  He knew that the others were stronger, tougher, and faster than him. A humanoid inmate, by the name of Kyxx ran this particular block. Seven feet tall and covered in tough purplish flesh, the six eyed Dranian man was effortlessly strong and controlled the inmates with a casual disregard and cruelty that kept his lackeys cringingly cooperative. His people were well-known for enjoying the flesh of sapient beings. It had been outlawed, of course, but some were known to still engage in the process. He was here for rehabilitation for just such a behavior. As of now, Kain was safe from being eaten by the man, as new detainees were watched closer for their safety. The drone force guarding the facility, however, would not intervene in any situation where Kain was not facing immediate danger. In other words, Kain was mostly on his own.

  Kain was not quite the weakest person here. A hexapedal Murinus, a mouse-like being, and a fellow primitive-worlder like Kain had that dubious honor. Kres, as he was named, was brown-furred, six-legged man with a chattery voice. He had taken to sticking close to Kain as Kain was the only person in the prison who seemed to tolerate him for more than thirty seconds at a time. In reality, of course, Kain mostly ignored the talkative man. Having allies was essential, even if the quality available to him were of little immediate value. Besides, it made him feel less lonely. Sometimes Kres even had some interesting or useful insights about his new time period. Kres’ people were less advanced than even Kain’s, but Kres had been dealing with this a lot longer than Kain.

  Not everything was negative, of course. Kain had found that these ‘Skills’ he kept gaining, while often very nebulous, could be very useful things. Like the ‘Craft: Improvisation’ skill he had gotten. He’d managed to snatch a pin from one of the doors on his way to the mess hall. Then he’d torn a strip from his jumpsuit, wrapped it around one end of the pin, and began to rub it against the scheecrete floor of the prison. The drones quickly repaired his jumpsuit the next day, but he had gained a skill from the action, as well as an improvised weapon. Knowledge had flooded his head about the types of things he was sure he could reliably make given time and materials. There wasn’t much. Some ways to make fire. Basic weapons and clothing. A very basic wilderness shelter. Some more general knowledge of how to improvise various tools. Practicing hiding it, followed by practice drawing and using it had netted him the ‘Conceal Weapons’ and ‘Improvised Weaponry’ skills.

  Greater surprise was to follow, though, as the educator and health drones directed them through exercises and studies designed to bring the ‘primitives’ up to modern health standards. Gaining multiple education and fitness skills that seemed to allow him to increase his stats through mere effort. With every point raised, he could feel his capabilities rising. His mind expanding, his body growing more vigorous than it had been in many years. It would have been a wondrous thing, far outstripping his discomforts if not for the two other problems. The first being that the spirits in this place were quiet. All he could hear was the constant gnawing, gnashing of the totemic white apes who’d buried themselves in his soul. The second was the damned dreams where he did battle every night. Kain’s body was recovering from the malnourishment he’d suffered from, but his soul remained a barren, blackened shell of its former self, and it cast shade on every aspect of his life. Still, he’d made progress in his travails. And tonight, he was determined that it would end. One way or another. Ignoring Kres’ babbling, Kain laid down in the corner of his cold cell, and closed his eyes.

  ***********

  With his ‘Scrapping’ and ‘Club Proficiency’ Skills having reached level nine respectively, fighting the mad white apes had begun to grow increasingly easy. They were now laid low by casual blows from Kain. Every single kill tore a snarl from his throat as he swung the stolen femur effortlessly. A sideswipe caved in the head of one in an explosion of gore and bone fragments. Another in his other hand plunged its sharpened end into the gut of a charging ape. Again and again, his hands raised up. Again and again, white apes fell before him. They streamed from every building, every hole in the ground. And they all died before Kain’s snarling, untiring form. Like a machine fueled by unreasoning anger, he killed them as fast as they came for him, barreling through their numbers and heading towards the distant structure.

  Here in this darkened, barren plane, he could see far further than his myopic eyes could in the waking world. Even so, until a day ago, the structure in the distance had always come off as blurry indistinct figure. Now? It was clear. A massive jutting rock. Somewhere along the way, a driving rain had started, making the footing slippery and filling Kain’s limbs with biting cold. That was okay, though. His rage kept him warm enough. Especially when he observed the spindly, unusually tall white ape leaning on some sort of long stick atop the rock. The enemy chieftain. His thoughts filled with static at seeing her. Memories bombarded him.

  When he’d first met Valia, it had been while standing next to his own chieftain, Gar. She was tall. Taller than any of his fellow tribesmen. Painfully skinny. It was impossible for them to understand how she controlled her violent tribesmen, being so physically weak. Until one of them made a sound out of turn. Then it was revealed: She was fast. Impossibly so. She’d taken her stick, whirled, and hit him four times with it before he could even clap hands over his mouth. Then her pale blue eyes had refocused on Gar as they continued their trade as if nothing had happened. This elicited no comment from Kain’s tribe. She was chieftain. It was her right to enforce discipline however she wished.

  Her smile was so warm compared to her brethren, despite this. When Valia came to visit from time to time, and Gar was out, she and Kain would speak. Their conversations were limited, of course. The mixture of noises and gestures that served as their language was unable to convey exceptionally complicated concepts. Still, as a shaman, Kain was intelligent, and Valia, strange that she was seemed to possess an uncommon understanding. He was able to communicate to her the restlessness in his soul, his desire to reach beyond such things as survival and the power and safety of his tribe. How his thoughts often drifted to things such as the beauty of the rising sun, or the forking lightning in the night sky. The stirring inside of him for something beyond his ability to understand.

  Those eyes. They burned their image into his soul as surely as any flaming brand. Perhaps his stupidity had come from finally having someone to commiserate with. Someone who could even distantly grasp the dissatisfaction squirming inside of him. Maybe he was just captivated by the beauty only he could see in her. Whatever the case, he had been stupid. He had told the guards at their cave complex to sleep the night away. That the omens had told him that it was important they be rested. They didn’t question him, why would they? And Valia did keep her appointment. Came to him in the night for a private assignation. It was bliss while it was happening. Until the screaming started from deep inside the caves. It turns out that beautiful eyes and a patient ear could easily hide a violent heart.

  And now, here, on top of that massive rock, those same blue eyes that had once made his knees weak now made them strong with a murderous desire. Coming to himself, he realized his rain-slicked hands had begun climbing at some point, leaving behind his weapons. Seeing them before him, he distantly realized they looked wrong. Indistinct. Pale and washed out. Still, hands and feet worked, one over the other, to clamber up the massive rock. Second by second, minute by minute, he ascended, his heartbeat a crash of lightning in his ears as he drew closer to the subject of his hate.

  As he finally crested the lip of the rock, he rolled over it and immediately grabbed a fist-sized stone. Valia laughed. Something he’d never known her to do when they’d both been alive. “You’ve come to finish it then. You cared for me once.” Leaning on her stick, she looked as old as he was. Tired. Sick. Her beauty faded, her fur falling out in patches. Her eyes were the same as ever though. Kain replied without thinking, “I still do.” A smile, on her part, “You’re still going to try to kill me though.” Kain countered, ‘You’re already dead.”

  Valia was silent for a moment, before responding, “But as long as my tribe occupies this space, I am not gone. You seek to end me totally.” Kain merely raised his rock in response and in a blur, Valia flew forward. The stick hit him nearly a dozen times, and he spat pale blood on the ground as he desperately tried to rise under the torrent of blows forcing him to the ground. He scrambled, trying to find some higher ground, some place to get shelter from the unending rain of attacks upon him. No matter where he turned, though, the stick was there, landing blows on his face, his body, his limbs, and his groin. Everything was pain. He stood no chance he now knew, and considered his options. If he just wanted the pain gone, he could throw himself to the ground. That should do it. Or he could spend what time he has left to end her.

  So he accepted the blows from her stick, turned, and barreled into her bodily. He grabbed her, and using his greater bulk, drove them both from the rock, plummeting to the ground below with him beneath her. The fall was surprisingly short despite their height. Pain lanced through his body again. His legs were probably shattered. Against all reason though, Valia was still alive, if barely able to move. So he fumbled for a rock, and brought it down against her skull, “I love you.” She moved, and so he did it again, “I love you!” And again. “I LOVE YOU!” And again,”I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU! ILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOU!”

  Somewhere along the way, long after her skull had been pulped, and the rain had stopped, his voice fell silent, and he rolled over onto his back. Kain had been the first of his people to know love. And now, as he laid on his back, his strength fading, and the sun finally rising, he became the first of his people cry. Darkness claimed him…

  ***********

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  … And was replaced by cold, white, artificial light as he awoke. The rage that had been burning in him for so long was gone. Instead, there was a cooler melancholy and a certain sense of inevitability. He moved his foot and poked Kres with a single toe, “Awaken. We must speak.” Kres, paranoid little rodent that he was looked up and tilted his head, “Okayhiwhyareweawake?” Kain sighed in response and demanded with an unusual forcefulness, “Speak. Slower. And louder.”

  He experienced the slightest sharpening of sounds around him, surprise apparent, as he strained to hear Kres better, “Sorry. Okay. I was just wondering why we’re awake.” For the first time since awakening, Kain smiled. It did not reassure Kres, “I wish you to be my ally in this place. If it goes well, we will be tribe.” Kres was a flurry of excitement, and had to be told by Kain to calm himself and speak correctly once more to answer properly, “Yes, yes, we will be friends! Please!”

  Kain frowned. Murinus was weak. Still, perhaps with this strange ability, that did not have to stay so. “The… creatures. The ones that teach us. The ones that have us run. We will make use of their instruction. To become strong. We will topple Kyxx from his place of power. When we leave this place, WE will be strong. We will build a tribe where others must be wary of us.” The Chihuahua-sized mouse creature grew more excited by the moment as Kain continued, “For now, we must sleep. Tomorrow we learn more.”

  Tuning out the excited Kres, Kain again laid his head down, and for once, merely dreamed of haunting blue eyes.