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Devour Vol 2 Ch 12: The Most Dangerous Tour
🕑 Added 2025-05-06 22:11:44 +0000 UTCConrad kept his head low as he walked the Devourer through the school courtyard, weaving between buildings and lunch tables, doing his absol
Conrad kept his head low as he walked the Devourer through the school courtyard, weaving between buildings and lunch tables, doing his absolute best not to draw attention. It wasn't exactly working.
The girl beside him—the thing beside him—wasn't exactly built for subtlety. She looked like a model someone had airbrushed into reality, tall and elegant with flowing golden hair that caught the sun like a curtain of fire. Her shirt hugged her frame like it was made for her, though Conrad knew she'd made it herself less than an hour ago by scanning his brain or some alien nonsense like that.
It didn't help that she walked like a queen among peasants, scanning every inch of the campus like it was a relic from an extinct civilization. Her fingers trailed along brick walls, traced the ridges of vending machines, poked at a trash can with the caution of someone examining a dormant bomb.
She stared up at the flagpole like it was a celestial obelisk. A couple of students stopped in their tracks and gawked. Some whispered. One guy tripped over a bench trying to keep his eyes on her.
Conrad groaned. "Try not to look so majestic. We're trying to blend in."
The Devourer turned to him, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. "Am I not blending?"
He opened his mouth to answer, then glanced at the group of sophomore boys pointing at her like she was a visiting celebrity. "No. Not even a little."
But he couldn't blame them. Truth was, he kept stealing glances too.
Her wonder, though, that was real. She looked at every hallway, every crack in the pavement, every poster on the wall like it was the first time she'd ever seen something crafted by hands that built rather than destroyed. And seeing her like that—someone who once stood the size of a planet, now amazed by an art room window display—actually made Conrad smile.
"You okay?" he asked as they rounded a corner into a quieter wing of the school.
She nodded slowly, still staring at a row of faded lockers. "I... did not expect it to be like this."
"Like what?"
"This place," she said, "is not what I imagined from your thoughts. It is... much more."
Conrad raised an eyebrow. "Really? I figured you'd seen way more impressive stuff in space. Like, hyper-cities? Alien megastructures? Galactic marketplaces?"
The Devourer was quiet for a moment. She ran her fingers along the cold metal of a locker door.
"Not really," she said finally.
Conrad blinked. "Wait, what?"
She looked at him then, eyes suddenly a little sad. "My kind does not build," she said. "We do not trade. We do not gather, or learn, or create. We consume. That is all."
"...Consume," Conrad repeated quietly.
She nodded. "Feeding. It is our purpose. Our function."
Conrad's gaze fell to the floor, his footsteps slower now. "So... your kind eats?"
The Devourer turned her head to him, and when she looked at him this time, her expression was different. Colder. Not cruel, but distant. Detached.
"You still haven't figured it out?" she asked softly.
Conrad frowned.
She stopped walking and tilted her head slightly, golden strands catching the light.
"We feast on planets, Conrad."
It hit him like a bucket of ice water. He'd seen their size. He knew what they could do. But actually hearing it from her mouth—matter-of-fact, emotionless, like it was nothing—made his stomach churn.
He stopped walking. Just stood there in the middle of the hallway, stunned.
"Uninhabited planets, right?" he asked, voice a little tight.
She didn't answer at first. Instead, a small smile curved her lips—not playful, not mocking. Something sadder. More honest.
"It can be uninhabited," she said at last. "Or not. As long as it fills our bellies."
Conrad looked like he might be sick.
She turned from him, gazing through the window at the school courtyard. Students were laughing, talking, throwing crumpled paper at each other. Normal lives. Normal moments. Fragile, fleeting.
"A world with life..." she said, "has more energy. More power. It nourishes us in ways barren stone cannot."
He felt his heartbeat quicken. "Then what are you doing here?" he asked. "Why haven't you—why haven't you done it?"
The Devourer's gaze lingered on the students outside. Her voice dropped.
"Because I'm forcing every fiber in my being not to," she said.
Conrad's mouth went dry.
"I feel this world," she continued. "The life in it. The noise, the color, the thoughts. It calls to me, Conrad. It begs to be devoured. And I... I tell myself no."
She turned to face him again, and this time her smile had faded completely.
"But I don't know how long I can say it."
He stared at her. Really stared at her. For a moment, she wasn't some untouchable celestial being. She was something trapped. Trapped by instinct. By hunger. And maybe, just maybe... by choice.
Conrad swallowed hard. "You're trying not to destroy us," he said slowly.
She nodded.
"That's... good, right?"
She didn't answer right away. Her eyes were on him again, heavy with something he didn't quite understand. Maybe longing. Maybe guilt.
"Show me more," she said finally, quietly. "Of this place. Of your world. As much as you can."
He hesitated.
But then he nodded.
"Okay," he said. "Come on. I'll show you the music room."
And together, the Devourer and the boy walked deeper into the school. One full of questions. The other, full of hunger.
But for now—just for now—there was still time.
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