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The Golden Hymn and the New-Found Flesh

By Limewah

Commission for LordofNaught and GrumpyGoat

18+

Part II

3

"These heat readings..."

"Yes, Elie?"

"The whole region's going to be destabilised before long... really not good."

"I will handle that."

The melting snow and ice is still moisture, after all. I collect the moisture with my wings and cool it rapidly in my body. The pore-like orifices expel jets of supercooled liquid, and as it meets the air it solidifies.

The Yellow Signal is not something I can see, in the sense that organisms can perceive. I detect the frequency, though. A binaural pattern of waves and hums, with an acoustic quality that the afflicted have referred to as 'like a choir' or 'like my head is a cathedral, His cathedral.'

One more simile I do not quite understand.

I push my way through the storm in a whirlpool pattern, starting from the edges and working my way inwards. The cold air and fluid I leave behind serves as a buffer.

"The signal's weakening already, Aurora."

"Is it?" I know it is already. But I wish for the handler to feel included. They wish to know they are doing a good job, a typical desire for young adult anthros. I can sympathise, so I humour it.

"Yeah, you're on the right track."

"Accorded. Will be arriving at base in around 10 minutes, upon which I will re-activate visual communication."

"Okay, be careful."

I do not need to be careful. All parameters have been accounted for.

I am not careful. I am efficient.

The temperature drops below -20 Celsius, and far lower.

At the current altitude and pressure, an organic being would not survive for longer than five minutes.

I do not feel the cold. It will not damage me. My internals are protected and insulated by my chassis.

The temperature drop slows, then stops, then reverses as I go further inland towards the epicentre.

My sensors pick up the Yellow Signal. Numerous sound waves and tones combine, similar to woven wicker. "Elie, please be advised that I will soon be within range of the Yellow Signal."

"Roger that. Be careful."

Again. I do not need to be. It's a little bit irritating, but I don't pass comment

While it would not be accurate to describe the epicentre as the 'eye of the storm', it is the best analogy I can imagine. The climate has become very warm and temperate, and wind resistance has almost entirely vanished.

The snow is rapidly melting, and the base itself is starting to shift off balance. The Antarctic is currently in a daylight cycle, and the sun is clearly visible. Organisms would find this rather pleasant.

"This would be a good holiday location for you," I say.

In the audio feed, I heard Dr. Kanin scoff.

"Was that a joke?" they ask.

"Yes, Elie, I understand the concept of jokes.

"The ice is unlikely to hold its integrity much longer before it sinks into the continent," I continue.

"Shit... how much time do you think you have?"

"More than enough."

My wingspan folds as I dive inward for landing, before unfurling once again to aid the slowing of my descent. I arrive at the western entrance, where the helipad's surface has become visible underneath the now melted snow.

The door is left ajar. I do not believe that the researchers will be found dead, however. The current climate is roughly 20 Degrees Celsius, with a low level of humidity; optimal conditions for organic creatures.

I reactivate my feed for my handler.

"Elie," I state, "I have arrived. Beginning reconnaissance."

"Roger. Be careful."

Another redundant statement. I do not pass comment.

I detect organic matter and life signs within 10 metres of the entrance. Heat signatures, a heartbeat, and respiration. However, the heat signatures do not take on an anthropoid shape.I sense a risk to my integrity, so it feels appropriate to prepare. I collect some of the moisture, about five litres of it, into my left forearm and sublimate it into steam, ready to be repurposed.

My climate control technology can be repurposed to create simple water and ice based weaponry. I have never had to use it, but am concerned that this is about to change.

The door is not barred, and it opens easily enough, with no snow outside to stymie it.

The base is still and quiet. I do not detect any electrical signatures - the lights are off, as is any climate control or air conditioning.

I do, however, detect the aforementioned life signs. Or at least remnants of them.

Clothing has been discarded and strewn about the break room, seemingly at random, but it does suggest it was done in a hurry.

I scan my databases for any similar phenomena related to the Yellow Signal.

None found.

"Do... do you see those?"

"Negative."

"On my feed I can see something on the walls. They look like little feelers coming off the wall, and they're getting longer...

"Please refresh the feed," I say.

"Ok... no, they're still there-"

"Remain calm, Elie." I cut across them. They re-compose themself with a breath.

"Can you get a visual on anything? Any of the researchers?"

"I detect exactly 14 heartbeats. All of the researchers are ostensibly alive. Heart rate is slightly agitated but well within normal parameters."

"Alright..."

I arrive at the common room.

Five of the 14 heartbeat signatures are present here.

There is no visual or aural sign of them.

"Where... are they?" Dr. Kanin says. "...wait, I can hear them..."

"Please explain, Elie."

"I.. I mean, it's not coming through the feed but I swear I can hear some voices talking to me."

I do not detect any sound waves save for the hum of electronics; as well as the Signal of course.

"You may close the feed if this is causing you distress, Elie."

"No... I n-need to stay with you."

"As you wish. Attempting communication."

I calibrate my visual and aural sensors. I can pick up a faint hint of something slightly off-kilter, like a constant heart murmur.

As my visual sensors calibrate further, I detect the strangest mixture of signatures. Heat and sound combined. The heat signatures comprise very clear outlines of anthropoid shapes, with enough definition to recognise and identify them. The sound that radiates from them resembles the yellow signal's tone, but it is layered underneath with sound waves that resemble the vocal cords of the disappeared researchers.

"Are they... singing?" Dr. Kanin asks. Their voice is softer, halting.

"It appears so."

"It's..."

"I am cutting the audio feed for your safety, Elie."

I do not allow them to respond before I do so.

I stare at the figures. They appear to be locked in a sort of dance, not unlike that of the Greek Bacchanal or other similar rituals. However, it takes place at a speed and rhythm far lower than any organism could normally muster. They are like statues that are very subtly, slowly moving.

I open my mouth and speak loudly and clearly.

"If you can understand me, please respond."

The sound waves quiver and the tones grow louder. The figures move with renewed pace, now throwing themselves around the room with a frantic pace. The food pantry doors open like a wing, and inside I see three figures, discernibly anthropoid, but composed of that same golden light and frequency. They are locked in coital positions, one lodged between the other two. They writhe against each other and look towards me. I detect the release of endorphins associated with orgasm as they cry out with elation.

"You're here, he's here!" They say as they pour out from the cabinet.

"We thought there would be more time," one voice says.

"But it's better like this," another says.

"You're here..."

They crawl towards me. I am trained to de-escalate, so I take slow, careful retreating steps towards the entrance. My reservoir of water is ready to be chilled and channelled, but it is a last resort. I also suspect it may not have much of an effect on them.

More sound signatures and heat signatures approach and surround me. The remainder of the researchers gather and flock towards me, some falling to their knees, others floating above, others entwining with each other. They are all beings of pure light and sound. I have never seen a phenomenon like it.

"Beautiful," the voices say. "You are beautiful."

They speak in perfect unison.

I do not know if they are speaking to me or to the source of the signal. It is hard to say. "Th...this place..." Dr. Kanin's voice returns. I am thankful they cannot hear the tones. But they are still at great risk.

"Elie. Please switch off the visual feed."

"The tentacles, they're getting longer... y-you can't see them?"

"I cannot."

"They're... kind of beautiful..."

"Closing the feed may be advisable, Elie."

"You've come, you've come," one of the figures says as it bleeds through the rest and approaches me. My voice and facial recognition activates as the distinct features of a reptilian face come into shape.

"Dr. Lasset," I say, "Please explain what has occurred here."

The silhouette of Dr Lasset's face smiles wide.

"You've come, you've come as our Lord said you would. We asked you to come, and you've came, so we may come as well..."

There is a low change to the Yellow Signal, and I hear them. I feel them..

The sounds they enit almost seem to have weight and texture to them, as colours and textures reminiscent of the researchers spreads further through the room. Fur and scales and flesh of all kinds is encroaching from the other hallways.

Voices surround me. They chant in unison, but I also detect other voices speaking just out of sync with the others. I wager this may have a subliminal effect on organisms who cannot detect them.

"We are golden, and we are one, and we are united, and we are in bliss, and we are in glory, and we give thanks, and we give devour the gold, and we devour the flesh, and we become the flesh, and we, are the flesh, and we are the gold, and we-"

I detect Dr. Kanin's voice, very soft. I re-play and repeat it quickly.

"Elie, you said 'flesh'. Why did you do that?"

"B-become..."

I detect a change in Dr. Kanin's brain functions. It matches the waves of the Yellow Signal.

The signal is passing through me.

The audio and visual feeds have been cut. They are not active. But Dr. Kanin is still being affected.

I attempt to shut off the connection from my end. It is overridden. Audio and visual contact is re-established.

"Elie, please close the feed now. I will advise when it is safe to re-connect."

I hear no response, simply heavy breathing.

"Dr. Kanin."

"No. I must drink the gold, I must devour the gold, I must be the gold, I must let his gold take hold and be his, I must make my mind His cathedral..."

Their babbling joins the babbling around me. I feel... overwhelmed.

In the back of my mouth, I feel a tightness.

I feel a similar tightness in my chest.

My processor's fan increases its speed as heat grows inside me.

I experience...

This is fear, I have been programmed with fight-or-flight instincts. But the heat...

It's something different. My jaw feels tight. My body feels as though it might lock.

"You have arrived."

A figure appears in front of me. Or it allows me to see it. I did not pick it up until it was directly in front of me.

It resembles a goat in basic appearance; its lower half is covered with black, shaggy fur. The upper half is a bright, bioluminescent yellow, with white palms and a white face.

I see the tendrils Dr. Kanin referred to, now. All around the room, but also wriggling and flowing from the being's head like locks of hair.

A tail snakes out from behind them, ending in a bulbous tip with a jagged mouth. It makes incomprehensible noises before lunging for me.

I grasp it and it squirms in my grip, growling and shrieking.

"Forgive him," the figure says. His voice is the Yellow Signal. It intensifies.

Dr. Kanin screams, distorting my aural sensors with their volume.

"He wishes to taste you, even if his nectar will not have its effect upon you. As much as it pains me to know this."

I recognize this figure from the drawings made by previous victims of the Yellow Signal.

This is Canthus.

The Yellow Signal is so thick I imagine organisms would be able to taste it. No organic being would be able to resist indoctrination up close.

He stares at me. His eyes... are strangely kind. He moves closer to me, and I carefully retreat. My feet push into a fleshy carpet, and I hear more expressions of pleasure.

"Elie, my sweet little thing. Are you still beholding me?"

Dr. Kanin moans.

"Gorgeous... I want... to taste..."

"You will taste it in time, my child," Canthus says.

He is not talking to me.

"For now, please share my song."

"Yes, oh, yes, Lord, PLEASE!"

Dr. Kanin's shriek of desire is cut out and drowned out by the Yellow Signal, and I lose contact entirely.

The flesh blocks my immediate escape route.

I do not wish to harm them unless it is absolutely necessary. I do not feel it has come to that point yet.

Or maybe it is too late.

"Thank you for allowing me to speak to them," Canthus says, still smiling. "Now, please unhand my other half, and we may properly commune, my love."

Interlude

The feed turns to snow, and I no longer see Him.

And I was so, so close to release, I need to cum, I can't finish without Him...!

I lunge for the screen and press against the glass. I need a hint of His gold again, I need it I need it I need it I need Him I need Him I need Him I need-

Others grasp at my shoulders and hands, trying to pull me away from Him. How else will I see Him again?

It killed me inside to hear Him refer to Aurora as His love. That machine. His voice echoes in my mind. My Love. My Love. My Love.

I hope He means me. I know He means me, really.

I need to show my love for Him, share my love for Him with everyone around me.

I turn to them all, and they stare with horror.

The gold expels from my eyes and mouth, and bathes them with His grace. They are anointed like me. As I throw my needless clothes off, the others do the same.

They are all so beautiful.

Most of them were completely unattractive to me before, but now, we can all share in His love, and His love makes us all perfect.

We meld our bodies together as one. As creatures with loud voices and guns rush in, they learn that stopping us is unnecessary, and the wrong option. They join us. They join our praise of Him, as we give thanks and tithe our climaxes to Him, even if He is so very far away.

We are the flesh. We are the gold. We are His flesh. We devour the gold. We devour the flesh. We give thanks, we are His, He gives thanks, we pay tribute, He is tribute, we are tribute, we are gold, we are flesh, we drink, we devour, we exult, we are the flesh we are the gold we are the flesh we are the gold we are the flesh we are the

4

Canthus.

Those dear, sweet mortals.

Well done, Elie.

Your worship warrants a great reward later.

So many new disciples.

Their chants are so sweet. There is no distance at all between them and me.

_ _

My love does not need to hear their moans. It would be a distraction and a deterrent to my desires for him.

His beautiful face is implacable and cautious. He squeezes the neck of my other half tighter. It wriggles and chokes and squirms, pathetically pained. I don't feel a thing. It is, after all, immortal. Unkillable.

"What do you mean by 'commune'?" He asks.

"Converse, Confabulate." I do not move nearer, but I do push my chest forward ever so slightly and allow my hip to tilt to one side. My golden finger traces along the top of my hip. I can feel my present disciples' eyes on it. They climax just from the sight of my finger. "We may copulate, too, if you're so inclined."

"I can manage a negotiation," Aurora says. So irresistibly taciturn. But my song does not work. At least, not yet.

The chittering and gurgling of my lower half is growing tiresome, and distracting. It does not know how to shut up. I yank my hips and pull the tail taut, and it whines.

"It will be easier once I can silence him. Please, release him and I may do just that."

I can see the curiosity and tension flicker behind those mortal-made eyes. More bewitching than anything I have ever known.

The moment the grip slackens, I pull my lower half away. It attempts a lunge. I re direct it to a mass of golden song, where some of my disciples are eager to receive the golden, jagged mouth.

As they kiss and wind with my tail, I gesture to the centre of what was once a break room, and is now a temple.

"Please, sit. Violence will not be necessary."

"I don't need to rest."

"Are you sure, my love?" I simply squat where I am, and my disciples surge under me, making my throne as they wind with my lower half. I cross one leg over the other, feeling mouths and hands along every inch of my divine form.

"You need only ask," I continue, twirling a finger in the air and conducting some of my children towards him. "They are eager and willing to please."

"No."

How much will he deny me?

"But surely you have needs that must be taken care of. Surely, you must feel an affinity for these lovely parcels of flesh and need."

"Do you mean in a sexual sense?"

"Perhaps." I smile, and my eyes flash with my song. He does not seem to notice. But there is a pathway through his eyes into that mind. Distant like a far off lighthouse in a storm. But there. I can find my way to him.

"I do not experience sexual pleasure at all," he says.

Oh, how it twists my heart to hear that. He seems to have no remorse about it, which only pains me further.

It is all the more reason to save him from this most painful anaesthesia.

I hide that pain.

"I find that difficult to comprehend, I must admit."

"Then we have something in common," he says. With a lighter tone, it might have seemed a flirtation. But it is a statement of fact. "I'd like to avoid violence, but I don't think I need to tell you the damage you're doing to the climate."

"Of course. All this is easily reversible. I did this for you. To bring you to me, my Love."

"...You keep referring to me as that. I don't know you, or know how you know me, but I am not your love."

I was anticipating this reaction, but it does not lessen the sting.

My tail writhes and mewls, unable to contain its disappointment even as it explores the ethereal bodies of my servants. I allow myself to show the faintest hint of vulnerability. An upturn of the eyebrows, suggesting concern and hopefulness.

"Allow me to explain myself, at the very least."

I reach out tentatively. He pulls back.

Simply telling the story will not be enough. It must be shown.

I guide the essences of my disciples from the rest of the room to me, and they expand themselves into a dome of stars around the two of us. As I speak, they move and illustrate the past in murals of gold. I allow them the opportunity to cease their moans of pleasure before I begin.

Chapter 4 will continue in the next part

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