Chapter Text
Self Nature – also known as Svabhava – is a fundamental concept in Buddhist traditions that emphasizes that true identity is realized by turning one’s attention inward and understanding that self-nature lacks any permanent or isolated essence. The ultimate goal being to achieve release from suffering (dukkha) also called Nirvana.
“Now, it’s best to inform you ahead of time that he won’t be responsive if you try to communicate with him.” The lead doctor of the facility guided them through the halls. His head a 1970 Agat USSR stopwatch with a single eye in the centre, a clipboard tucked under one arm and his other hand in the pocket of his lab coat. “We have him under secure containment, so agitating him is highly unadvised, unless you plan on funding for the damages.”
“I thought you said he was conscious?” Vox narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t here for Alastor.
That would be stupid.
He was here for the same reason Carmilla and Zestial were: to check on the state of a fellow overlord. The virus hadn’t exactly drawn much attention from the public when the first unexpected deaths happened a week ago. People died in Hell all the time for a plethora of reasons and diseases certainly were very up there on the lead of causes (no thanks to Valentino’s influence). But of course the moment Alastor got contracted with it, three days ago, the entire Pride Ring turned itself upside down. The deer never could do anything without drawing in an audience. Almost as bad as Vox, if he hadn’t been willing to nuke all of Hell for such ridiculous reasons.
“He is conscious,” the doctor assured, waving his free hand dismissively as they approached a set of double doors. Charlie had obviously come as well, Vaggie there alongside for moral support, and Lucifer because he didn’t want his daughter near Alastor even before this mess, never mind whilst he was apparently feral and clinically insane. “But the virus seems to control his muscle movements, and it either refuses to talk or doesn’t know how to work his vocal chords. It’s hard to tell.”
“So this thing is…self aware?” Vox gave a disgusted look, or perhaps unimpressed. Both, maybe. They watched the doctor use a keycard to open the doors. The sign above the frame saying “Authorized Personnel Only” so that was comforting. Why this section of Hell’s only research facility existed was a different question for a different time.
“Self awareness is a…difficult thing to determine.” The doctor stopped in front of a glass viewing screen of a large, empty room. Angelic steel walls, courtesy of Carmilla’s contributions to the facility, which had Zestial giving her a curious glance when he noted that detail. She merely gave an indifferent shrug.
“This facility is the only consumer of mine that doesn’t request something to slaughter with,” she murmured, eyes staying fixed on the still figure at the centre of the vacant room. A prison, really, but more clean and white and bright inside.
Alastor stood in the centre, completely unmoving but standing all the same. It was hard to tell if he was looking at them or not. His pupils were absent, replaced by a glow and the vermillion of his eyes covered the entire expanse of the surface. A second pair of glowing eyes just above his brows. Antlers branching out like veins above his head. It wasn’t his usual wendigo form they were used to seeing. His neck wasn’t contorted weirdly and his bones weren’t threatening to rip through the skin, either. Like he was halfway through the transformation. It looked better, honestly, if not for the circumstances. Less...grotesque of a form.
“How did you get him in there?” Vaggie sounded suspicious if the bulletproof glass or if even angelic steel would keep Alastor contained. Couldn’t he shadow through things? “And he can teleport, you know.”
“The virus doesn’t seem to know that,” the doctor murmured through closed teeth, like he was wary of the virus hearing them, if it could even understand language at all. “We’re hoping for the best, and this is the best we have at the moment. If it figures out the full extent of his abilities, then testing is pointless, we’re all dead.”
“Comforting,” Vox deadpanned.
“As for how we got him in here: tranquilizers,” the doctor stated proudly. “Of course, we lost several men in the process, which was rather unfortunate, but better that than letting him run rampant and killing more people.”
“Then why not keep him tranquilized?” Lucifer asked. He didn’t know if he preferred Alastor this way or not. On the one hand, it was incredibly satisfying to see the arrogant buck locked up in a glorified cell and silent for once. On the other hand, Charlie looked seconds away from either crying or running in to try and fix everything through some stupid song about hope and friendship.
“Because we took the first aim with 100mg of xylazine and waited thirty minutes, but nothing happened,” the doctor sighed heavily.
“You can’t use xylazine on a person,” Carmilla looked down at him like he had lost his mind.
“Our…initial intent was not to contain him,” the doctor admitted, pointedly not making eye contact with any of them. “Overlord or not, his body count had far exceeded that of the exterminations. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but you can’t exactly be an overlord if there’s no one left to lord over.”
The three overlords present narrowed their eyes down at him, but he still, wisely, kept his eye fixed on Alastor, who still hadn’t moved a centimeter this whole time.
“At any rate,” he continued, trying to regain an air of control and professionalism, “we had to double the dosage just to knock him out. Even then, he ended up waking up twenty minutes after losing consciousness and we barely had enough time to toss him in here before he gained complete control over his muscular system again.”
“Then tranq him again,” Lucifer shrugged.
“Dad, he could die from that stuff,” Charlie gestured dramatically with both hands toward Alastor, who seemed way too fine for someone who had just had twice the dosage of a drug that was used to take down bulls 15 times his own weight.
Again, Lucifer just shrugged like “oh well.”
“His body becomes immune over the course of each dosage,” the doctor cut in. “The 200mg didn’t work again when we tried it, and we could only manage getting a blood sample to learn more about the virus after a 600mg shot. If we continue to go higher, we pose a higher risk now of making him completely invincible to the drug rather than killing him.”
“Is that…that’s because of the virus, right?” Vaggie looked between the doctor and Alastor warily. Now she was really concerned about whether these walls would contain him. “That’s not something he would have been able to do on his own, right?”
“Presumably not.”
“Presumably?” Vox looked stressed now, despite trying not to show it. “What– what are we just taking educated guesses now? He’s still mortal. He’s not–” Vox made a vague gesture toward Lucifer. “Obviously he can’t do these things without the stupid virus–”
“The virus utilizes what is at its disposal, just like any virus,” the doctor responded as calmly as he could. “Whilst some abilities or endurances may be enhanced, most of it is just what he naturally possesses. I’m sure the immunity to the xylazine is mostly due to the virus’ influence, though.”
Zestial spoke up before Vox could find something else about the doctor’s statement to oppose. “Thou said that research hath been done. What of it?”
“Most of it is speculatory information.” The doctor was very much grateful for the switch in topic and in person to talk to. “It’s not a normal virus that’s been recorded before, but it has a similar behaviour to Gibellula Attenboroughii. A virus that targets spiders, primarily. It attaches itself to the body before rooting itself inside and eating away at tissue before eventually altering the spider’s behaviour and controlling it to perform certain tasks.”
“Alastor isn’t a spider demon,” Vox groused.
“Yes, I’m aware, thank you,” the doctor deadpanned right back, barely keeping his teeth from coming together whilst responding. “It’s a similar virus, but not exact. It wasn’t trying to escape his body, for some reason, which leads us to believe that it was looking for the perfect host to sustain it.” He flipped through some of the pages attached to his clipboard as he spoke. “Previous victims had traces of the virus left in their system, but it seemed to have killed them when it transferred itself to a different host.”
“So you were studying it before it got to Alastor,” Carmilla arched a brow.
“All in the name of science, I assure you,” the doctor smiled. Not quite convincing enough for any of them. “We observed from a distance to avoid contracting it, but monitored the subjects–”
“People,” Charlie corrected, taking a step forward, expression pinched. “You were watching people dying and doing nothing about it. And now Alastor has it when you could have stopped it before it got this bad.”
“We had no way of knowing it would get this bad,” the doctor insisted, head ticking once for the first time since they’d introduced themselves at the front of the facility. “We assumed it worked like any other virus and would become weak once a host built up an immunity against it.” He made a gesture toward Alastor. “And that seems to be the case here. He isn’t dead, now is he?”
“Might as well be,” Vox threw his hands up. “He hasn’t moved since we got here. Can’t say anything– I don’t even think he’s blinked since we got here.”
“Someone’s been paying attention,” Lucifer mused under his breath.
“Shut it,” Vox shot back.
“But, for all intents and purposes, he is alive,” the doctor reasoned, trying to plead his case with very little success. “The virus can’t spread and it can’t force him to kill anyone else. We have the virus contained and can now find ways to study it and perhaps save his life in the process.”
“But you said it killed the other victims when it left their bodies,” Vaggie pointed out. “How do we know that Alastor won’t fall over dead the second that thing leaves him?”
“That…,” the doctor smiled before it faltered a bit and he looked away, “is an excellent question, and one I…can’t say I have an answer to at the moment. The point is,” he continued quickly before anyone could spout out more complaints, “there’s nothing we can do to undo what’s been done, so all that’s left is to understand what we’re up against here before trying to take action. Alastor’s body seems to be sustaining the virus quite well, so–”
“Thou speak as though this is good,” Zestial’s words whispered like an echo, yet still drew the doctor into a silence as if he had yelled. “Alastor is alive, yes, but this…virus is reaping from his strength. Doth that not make this a standstill of sorts?”
There was silence for a moment and everyone fixed their judgmental stares at the doctor, whose head was ticking trying to think of a proper response.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“There’s a balance going on, at the moment, yes,” the doctor finally spoke, each word carefully chosen. “The only reason the virus is still using his body is because it isn’t killing him, but it also isn’t completely taking over, either. Consider it a state of…homeostasis. A symbiotic relationship, if you will. Alastor is keeping it alive and it isn’t killing him.”
“Sounds like such a healthy relationship,” Vaggie mumbled.
“But it’s not killing him because it’s choosing to,” Vox was still trying to understand this whole thing and it seemed like everything the doctor explained just left him with more questions. “It’s only not killing him because it can't, which is so different. Not to mention he still hasn’t responded and isn’t acting anything like his normal self. So how exactly has this thing not taken complete control?”
“Complete control would mean death for the host. If the host is weak enough to be fully subdued, then it’s too weak for the virus to use. It…requires a host whose body is able to fight back without completely killing it.”
“But he is in pain,” Zestial’s whispers cut through again, eyes narrowing at Alastor’s frozen form. It was so slight, especially from the distance they were at, but his chest stuttered in its expansion just slightly. Claws twitched by his sides. “It can not kill him, no, but its nature doth not prevent it from trying.”
“Well, the human body, naturally, doesn’t just choose to fight back,” the doctor countered. “It fights back automatically. Because it senses something that doesn’t belong and it targets the intruder. If this virus works the same as any other, there’s very little that can be done on our end until we understand it better. Alastor seems to be holding up just fine for the moment.”
“Yeah, for now,” Vox stepped forward, closer to the glass, and tapped on it just to see if he could get a reaction out of Alastor. Nothing. “But it takes energy to fight something.”
“Has he eaten?” Charlie asked, her concern redirecting to a new issue altogether at the mention of “energy.”
The doctor shook his head. “Aside from the bodies he consumed during the massacre, no. We didn’t want to risk making the virus stronger by feeding it–”
“Okay, wait, hold on–” Vox laughed, turning around toward them again and fingers pressed against his screen. “Let me get this straight: you’re trying to do research on this thing, right? But in order to do that, the thing has to be alive. And in order for that…Alastor has to be alive. So why the heck are you starving the same thing that stands between you and a virus!?”
“He has achieved homeostasis,” the doctor was losing his patience now trying to reason with all of them about how he ran things around here. “We will give him something to eat eventually, but the best way to keep either side from completely winning is to maintain him as he is now. The virus knows as well as we do that the host has to stay alive to sustain it. It will give us signs when it needs to eat.”
“Again, you make it sound self aware,” Vox’s fists clenched. “Is it aware or not?”
“It’s unpredictable, is what it is,” the doctor bit out, nails digging into the back of his clipboard. “We know little to nothing about this thing, so your questions can’t be answered until we’ve found out more about–”
“If you don’t know,” Vox’s voice was threateningly low into a whisper as he took a step forward, screen glitching slightly in frustration, “then why are you basing your actions on assumptions? You think the virus knows what it needs and maybe it doesn’t. You think starving Alastor will sustain the homo-something and keep everything perfect until your stupid team of lab rats finishes screwing around with a petri dish!”
“Vox,” Carmilla cut in calmly, but not without some edge to her tone. “This is outside of your expertise. I suggest you let the doctors handle this the way they see fit.”
Vox’s screen glitched again, livid, but Carmilla spoke again before he could rebuttal. “That being said,” her eyes narrowed down at the doctor, “it has been three days–”
“Research for these things takes up to 15 years, at the most,” the doctor cut her off, defensively. And a little like a threat, too. “This can take far longer.”
“Your actions toward this reflect your entire facility. You’re aware of that, aren’t you?” Carmilla asked. The doctor stayed silent, looking up and meeting her gaze evenly, if perhaps nervously. His head ticked again at her words. “I have no personal ties to Alastor, but if one of my daughters had been infected and in his position, I wouldn’t tolerate this kind of delay in action. Starving him will only weaken him, possibly kill him. And you’ve injected him with enough drugs to sedate an elephant. Legally, I could have you reported for medical malpractice. Hell or not, we still have regulations.”
She turned without waiting for a response, not that the doctor had one for her, anyhow. “If you want me to continue as your vendor, I highly suggest you get your facility up to code.”
The doctor floundered, head ticking in rapid succession now like it was about to explode. Vox straightened, adjusting the lapels of his suit and giving the doctor a look. “Yeah, what she said.”
Charlie sighed, looked back at the containment where Alastor still stood. Not even blinking. It almost looked like he wasn’t even alive but just...frozen in place if not for the slight motion of his chest expanding and contracting. “Don’t worry, Al. We’ll figure out how to help you,” she murmured before being guided away by Vaggie as they followed Carmilla back through the double doors again.
Zestial walked silently beside Carmilla down the monotonous hall, a ways ahead of the others. “Thou spoke well for someone who hath no ties to Alastor, as you put.”
Her expression softened slightly. In a way it only ever did for her daughters and for Zestial. “I know you and Alastor are close. Besides, this is the closest thing Hell has to a hospital. If something were to happen to my daughters, I’d like to trust that the doctors here would give them the best care. Might as well ensure that now instead of paying for it later.”
Zestial hummed, smile turning pleased. “Well, in any case, I am sure Alastor will appreciate thine actions.”
“If he was even aware of any of that at all.”
“I hath a feeling he was.”
Back in the containment room, lit solely by the overhead lighting within the room of angelic steel and one bulletproof viewing glass, Alastor’s ear twitched slightly. Chest still moving agonizingly slowly with a slight wheeze behind the shallow breaths through his nose. Body still, yet suspended solely by whatever strength the virus was using to keep him standing.
The PA system just outside the glass, in the upper corner of the room, crackled with faint static before going silent again.