Lao Jia, as the spirit calls herself these days is a toxic beast spirit who broke free during the events revolving aorund Gen Wong in late April 2071.
Originally summoned to kill Neil , the sudden demise of her summoner gave her the unique chance to get rid of all shackles and have a life of her own, along with a bundle of new powers she grew quite fond of.
She’s not bound to a particular form but prefers to appear human. It’s easier to grab karma if you’re not an abomination or a toaster.
There’s still much potential for…tension, to put it mildly, between the spirit and basically all other living beings in the Nest, as she’s the personified rage and agony of the ill treated rats in this place. However, with freedom of will at the table, there’s still a good chance for a truce, or at least a deal…
Though still met with some healthy distrust, Lao at least feels at home in Chinatown and even managed to befriend a kind little girl.
Rumor has it that she even had a go at that thing called ‘socializing’…
His death was near.
And the Dog knew it.
Yet still, the shaman’s aura was a bright beacon of fierce determination against the tainted mana around him. In his battle against Gen Wong he chipped in all the weight his presence in this world had, making fate itself a player in this game.
To the spirit, the abomination responsible for his intended quick but not-so-clean demise, this was of little concern.
Even if there was a grain of admiration for the fight he put up, the toxic creature had a clear task: Kill this man.
And only one blink of an eye before another spat of caustic saliva could finish the job, the Dog won his fight against the spirit’s master.
The abomination still held great hatred for Dog and his kin…but now, the steady commanding pressure of its master was gone; and there was more…just a tiny spark, a promise.
The spirit saw two others of its kind fading, saw how their summoner’s astral body fled his dying mortal coil in a least ditch effort.
A rat leaving the sinking ship, quite literally.
The ether’s pull grew stronger on the spirit, but its huge plague-rat form stemmed the tide with every inch of its essence.
There was too much undone, too much to discover!
Only the slightest chance of a life free from shackles…of a life at all was more compelling than any mortal could ever understand.
The rat forcefully clawed itself free from the vortex, pushed back the waves of mana trying to disrupt its presence in the sixth world; it fought for an own place and an own fate, against the overwhelming grip of its native plane.
And then it stopped.
No more pull, no more chains.
Baleful, liberated laughter echoed through the polluted streets, as the spirit realized it was free now.
Dog and his companions were aware and the abomination, still on higher ground, sneered with ravaged lips.
‘See you soon, Dog…’, it snarled, vanishing into astral space.
There was still a certain loose end.
The summoner, Gen Wong would have hours, maybe half a day in his own domain, until his astral body would fade into oblivion.
Now free, the spirit had no obligation to care for him, or the people he would harm.
But it was him who called for the rat. It was him, who gave the death, agony and silent struggle of tens of thousands of rats thoughtlessly killed in this place a mind and body.
The spirit was a being of pure rage, pain and vengeance and it hated the summoner even more than Dog or his kin for what he had done. His aura reeked of fear and impending death, when he passed the wards of his lodge. Here, in this place, he was powerful, even in his weakened state.
But so was the spirit.
‘You…’, the pale projection whispered through the ether, as he saw the toxic rat stride through the astral shadows towards him. It made no effort to hide its intentions. ‘Stop.’, Gen Wong commanded, backed by the Geomancy empowering him in this place. ‘You must obey me!’
‘No…’, answered the spirit with deadly calm, ready to pounce. ‘Never again…’