Demon Lord Shapeshifting System

After the fight, Harker had merged with everything else. He had to or else he wouldn't be able to survive the injuries he sustained from fighting the Ice Giantesses.

He had noticed it mildly when he created Harker 2.0, but it was clearer to him now that the more clones he created, the more he 'stretched himself thin'. Every version became more watered down than the one before it, and the less control he had for all of them.

He was so focused on juggling the ones at the Port of London that he couldn't sense Harker 2.0's actions while fighting. But now….

He couldn't sense him at all. This along with the injuries he received had thrown Harker for a loop.

"Where is he….. Where is he…." He was mumbling as Joan brought him to the hotel.

"Where is who?" She asked. but he didn't answer.

When they brought him into the room, it took a while before they got his temperature back to normal again. They placed Harker in the bathtub and filled it with hot water. Mina worked hard to wash the dirt and the dried blood off him, while Joan and Roland prepared some hot soup and tea in the kitchen.

They all worked in tandem to care for him, and Harker couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed with it all. Here he was thinking that after all the power he received, he would be the one to serve all of them.

And yet in the end, it was him who was being cared for more than the other way around.

Harker wished he could do more than them, as it had always been that way. His fear of being indebted to people. Not really fear, but more of the discomfort he felt whenever everyone does him a favor.

But at this moment, it didn't feel uncomfortable. It felt overwhelming, but it was…. nice.

It made him feel warm already, knowing how lucky he was to have people who care about him this way. Not everyone was fortunate, and he knew that so he was grateful.

Harker then sensed him, as he basked in this feeling of serenity and gratefulness in the tub. The others were speaking, but he couldn't respond yet.

Joan fed him the soup, and Harker was so focused on Harker 2.0's activity that he wasn't even surprised that Mina just let Joan feed him in front of her. The clone went inside a pub and was currently drinking there.

He was talking to a woman, and it sounded like they were flirting. They giggled and talked about the earthquake last night, some small talk about the weather, and the beer they've been drinking so early in the morning.

The woman said: "Thanks for the drink. I get a lot of shite from my folks for my preference to drink in the wee hours, but they just don't get it. Watching the sunrise while intoxicated is the best way to experience it, especially if you know you're about to have a dreadful morning."

Harker 2.0 snickered. "A toast to a dreadful morning then, Mildred."

They clinked their glasses, and took a sip. After Mildred set down her large mug, she giggled while slurring her words.

"It's silly. I forgot I haven't even asked your name. We've been talking and talking and yet I'm so bevvied that I forgot about the most important thing when talking to hot strangers."

The clone took a while to answer, before he responded with.

"It's Hanker. But you can call me Hank."

"Hanker? I know that word, somethin' I read for our creative writing class. What was it again…. to yearn?" Mildread asked.

"Yeah. A strong desire to do something." Hanker, as he called himself, sipped his drink.

"Your parents must wish for you to be an ambitious man, then. So did you grow up true to your name?"

Hanker chuckled. "Oh, I did. I grew up with a lot of desires….. Most of which were not my own."

Harker could feel a tightening on his chest, and realized it wasn't his. It was Hanker's.

Mildred just observed him for a while, before addressing it. "Alright, Hank. Spill it. I've noticed the long face ever since you got through that door."

He shrugged. "Just something a bastard said that's been bothering me. It felt stupid to be bothered by it, after all, he's just a delusional motherfucking fa—"

Hanker then sighed, and smiled a little to himself. "Truth be told, I envy the little 'shite'. You know how some people are just so darn passionate over something that you can't help but wish you could be like that too? They know their purpose, they stick to it no matter what, and even when they were tempted they still don't take the fucking fruit?"

Mildred nodded. "I guess I could understand that. Lots of people in my class are like that, while I barely even started writing and I already feel like throwing myself to a bridge. Writing is one of the most dreadful occupations in the world. Everyone thinks it's just putting words on paper but…. Hah."

"'It's like a relationship', I often tell them. Sometimes the writing is like a good lover, very pleasant. The creativity just flows perfectly and all the synergy makes you feel grateful to be alive, to be able to create something. But often it's like those shitty relationships where you love him and you give and give… EVERYTHING. But it's still not enough."

She shook her head. "I'm not making sense. I just need another drink."

Hanker didn't say anything for a while, then said. "I've never had that."

She raised an eyebrow. "You serious? You never been in a relationship? Get out of here."

"Yeah, I'm serious." He said. "And I've never felt that….. thing. Giving your everything. Sounds awful, yet why do I still…."

He stopped himself, and instead called the waiter. "Another round for us, please."

Harker doesn't know where he even got the money. But that's not the important part. What he really wanted to know was when it began.

When did Hanker start to separate from him, and form his own identity?

As if answering him, Hanker suddenly said. "Ask him. It's all his fault."

Mildred looked up with a raised eyebrow, but Hanker didn't explain himself. Instead, he stood up and left a wallet.

Harker knew whose wallet that was.

"It's been nice talking to you. Too bad I'm not really in the mood for anything further, Mildred."

She just shrugged. "The company's better and more appreciated anyway. Thank you, Hank. Have a good one."

Hanker stumbled through the streets, drunk beyond his wits when he could simply just take the insobriety away. He passed by a fire truck that seemed to have just put out a fire on a gasoline station and a convenience store, and scoffed.

He then went towards a bridge, and sang to himself as he went.

"London bridge is falling down…. Falling down…. Falling down…."

He then turned to face the water below, gazing at his own reflection. But Harker knew he was actually looking at him, facing him directly.

"You're lucky, you know? You have it all. The girls, the family..... Him."

Hanker held his breath, while this man who was no longer just a copy of him smiled.

"Tell him that I said hi, and if he would rather stay miserable then…. Well, misery loves company, and maybe he'd like my company when we see each other again. If I ever get to. Hah, I don't even know if I have a soul."

He spread his arms wide, the same pose as he did when he slept. Then….

He fell.