I groan, my hand brushing against a nearby bush. Its leaves are soft, almost pleasant to touch. But there's nothing pleasant in my head right now. Every nerve feels raw, as if stretches far apart.
My right hand's stabilized on a large rock, which is more or less covering my form.
My left hand's holding onto a small piece of wood, which had been appropriately lit on fire by Navi. I hold it high, avoiding the possibility of lighting the area around me on fire.
My feet shift in the grass almost restlessly, the bristles brushing against my leg. I'm falling slightly.
I squint my eyes into the distance, forcing them to focus. Two faint shapes move in the distance,, far across the plains.
Navi and Kyros.
I can just barely make them out, two specks against the emptiness. If it weren't for the lack of foliage out here, there's no way I'd see them at this distance. And yet, despite how long they've been walking, fifteen minutes, maybe more, I can still track their movements. They're not even walking slowly.
This world never stops surprising me. Every time I think I've figured out its rules, it throws something new in my face.
I let my body sink back into my spot, drawing in a deep breath. The sun glares down through the massive gap overhead, spilling light into the valley. It burns against my eyes, so I look away, staring back at the ground.
Right now, all I can do is wait. Wait for that creature to make a move on the two of them. You could say I'm using them as bait, and maybe that's how it looks, but that's not it. Navi can handle herself. If it attacks, she won't just fold over.
And me? I'm not going to fight the thing head-on. That's clearly suicide, in every sense of the word. My job is to figure out how it's tracking us. If I can get it to notice me, that's a win. But if I can pull it away, then that's an even bigger win.
But if I die in the process—
My stomach twists. Shit.
I shake my head hard, trying to fling the thought away. No. If I die, at least I'll learn how it moves. That alone is worth something.
Right now, my million dollar guess is that it's moving underground. Which is obvious enough, given the previous world. It literally emerged from the floor and….
But even burrowers need air. It's got a nose, which means lungs, which means it has to breathe. Canines can only stay underground for maybe five minutes before surfacing. I know this because a friend back home had a Labrador. The fuzzy fellow loved to dig and bury itself, but always had to resurface, wheezing, dirt hanging from its muzzle. Dogs can't really cheat air, in a way, they're similar to us.
But this monster's not a Labrador. It's massive. Bigger lungs. More capacity. Which means it could stay down there twice as long, maybe even ten minutes. I can't know for sure, but I just have to be ready.
Hm, perhaps it breathes that way..
No, I need to see it myself to be sure.
I glance around.
Still nothing.
I glare at the two figures in the distance, barely visible now, starting to blend into the horizon, which serves as a treeline. Damn it. They're heading toward the forest near Kyros's village. (If that really is the same wall I saw in the last world.)
Once they enter, I won't be able to see them anymore. If that happens I'll have to move closer, and that puts me in danger, since I'll be exposed.
This thing needs to show itself.
My hand tightens around the burning stick in my right hand. The flame flickers, biting at the wood, eating away slowly. Navi lit it for me earlier. It's long enough that I've still got some time before it burns me, but I can't waste it. This fire's not just for show.. I need it for what comes next.
My eyes sweep the field again, every muscle taut. Two timers tick away inside my head, the monster's impending presence and the slow burn creeping toward my hand. Both could kill me. Both are waiting for me to screw up.
I push myself to my feet, lowering into a crouch, head snapping left and right. Every nerve screams at me to stay alert, not to blink, not to miss a twitch of grass. My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my teeth.
It's even more terrifying because of the open nature of this field, meaning I can see everything, yet can't at the same time.
God, I've been chased before. I've been cornered, hunted. But this? This pressure digs deeper than anything yet. It feels like my whole body's being wound tighter and tighter, every second tearing at me from the inside. I want to spring forward, to run, anything,but I can't. The moment I break, I'm dead.
And then—
Movement.
Fifteen meters to my right, the earth convulses. Grass splits open as the dirt rises, bulging upward. Something massive is tunneling beneath, charging forward with terrifying speed.
My head whips toward it, surprised at the sudden movement.
There! The ground suddenly heaves a bump tearing across the plain like a ripple in water, only faster than a car.
Suddenly…
A large mass dives up into the air, blotting out the sun and casting a shadow. My eyes can't catch the little details of the creature, but it's enough to come to a solid conclusion.
It dives up in the air to take a breath, rather than risking surfacing for air.
I might be a step ahead now.
Adrenaline shoves me into motion. I stagger upright, then bolt. My grip tightens on the torch, lowering it against my chest to shield the flame from the wind. If this goes out, I'm screwed. The next step is to avoid any sudden jerking movements, so it doesn't run out. I can feel the slight heat of embers brushing against my skin, but it isn't anything damaging.
There's only one thing sitting in the front seat of my mind right now. That damned monster.
All that matters now is pulling it toward me. Let it smell me. Let it see me. Let it come. Whatever it does to track me.
___________________________________________________________________________
It digs.
That is the only explanation for what Lyros was doing at the moment. Its fork-shaped claws tore into the soil, shoveling earth with a speed that could only be described as mechanical. Each limb was locked into a rhythm, one hacking away, the other dragging back clumps, the process repeated again and again until dirt exploded around it in suffocating bursts.
The darkness was absolute. Sight was a meaningless word here. Pitch black swallowed everything, and only the raw sense of movement guided its body. Its breath came ragged, a rasping pant, specks of soil shooting into its open mouth as it forced its way forward.
Still, it continued. Hunger was not the only drive now.
This was something different. Something personal. Its master had commanded it, yes, but there was more. Rage.
It was a memory of prey that had slipped under its nose in the earlier layers. A bitter wound in its pride. How could such a beast possess such a sense of pride? But undoubtedly, it possessed this human-like emotion. It was the spark that ignited its tirade of anger.
Hundreds had died beneath its claws. None had escaped its ability to detect the hollow points in its prey. None had slipped away without being caught. Until now.
Lyros's eyes slowly transfixed on a certain position in front of it.
Two signatures flared in its vision. This was an ability that almost all aberrations of its type could wield. Hollow point markers, glowing shapes of life. The first was small, weaker, but still of value. Perhaps one or two points were vehemently visible.. The second burned like fire. Red, blistering, bullet-hole gaps scattered across its frame. That one carried strength. That one made the Orthrus hesitate, if only for a moment.
It did not fear them. No. Fear was a word that did not exist within its body. But trophies… trophies were what it desired.
And then.
Footsteps.
Behind it.
Not loud, but undeniable. Its presence was too close to ignore. Taken aback, the creature froze in the soil, claws still for the first time in its frantic tunnel. Slowly, it turned its head, peering with its vision toward this new figure.
Nothing.
There were no hollow points.
Impossible. All living things had them. It was law. A truth carved into the stones of existence. To not have one meant… meant…
It shifted direction instantly.
Rage turned to fixation. The law of nature had been spat on. This thing was not prey. It was something else. And so it dug faster. Frenzied. Driven. The soil peeled away like thin paper beneath its claws.
This creature… It was stomping on the grounds of reality. Something that should not exist, one that went fundamentally against the chains of the world.
If something like this existed…
'Then it must be delicious!'
That was the thought that formed in the beast's mind. It was an indicator that, in the end, this creature was no more than just a beast.
Closer. Closer.
The figure above had noticed. It ran, as expected. The flight of the doomed. Futile.
As it dug, something shouted. The Orthrus's lungs. Air. It needed air. The walls of its chest burned with suffocation, forcing it to change course. It curved its body upward, breaking its tunnel, claws lashing through the last layers of soil.
Then the earth gave way.
A roar of light and wind slammed into its body as it burst from the ground, dirt spraying into the sky like an eruption. Sunlight scalded its pale skin. For an instant, the world was revealed, sharp and clear, before the dive resumed. Its long, sinewy arms were tucked with the rest of its body, providing the perfect aerodynamics to dive past.
But it saw something.
Directly in front of its landing point was a hollow pit disguised with grass and leaves, and in its center sat a flat stone. Beside it stood a boy, a wide grin carved across his face, carrying a torch.
The Orthrus twisted its body in midair, desperately attempting to alter its fall. It tried to swivel, to claw its way out of the trajectory, to do anything to escape the trap that had been set.
Its muzzle angled toward the ground. In the span of only a few seconds, it had already breached the surface, dirt and leaves erupting upward in a violent burst, almost like an explosion tearing into the air.
Its body slithered down into the pit, shoving aside the layers of grass and brush. It was smooth, almost too smooth.
At that moment, however, one directive took over immediately. Escape. Get through this shallow earth, burrow back into the safety of solid ground before anything else can be performed.
But then.
The creature began to slowly halt its advance. The depth was not that substantial. If it was meant to drop Lyros and kill it, it had failed. The earth wasn't thick enough. Why? What was the point of such a shallow hole?
The Orthrus hesitated. Its claws paused mid-motion. Confusion spread across its primitive mind, a sharp halt to the rhythm it had known only moments ago. Slowly, instinctively, it tilted its head upward. The hollow points of the boy above sharpened into view.
They were still. Unmoving.
And then…something dropped.
The boy's hand tossed an object into the pit. A faint streak fell through the air, and almost immediately the Orthrus's nostrils flared.
The smell hit it first. Ash. Smoke. The raw embers of flame.
The realization slammed into its mind, tearing through instinct with a clarity it could not ignore.
The boy had lit the pit on—
___________________________________________________________________________
Fire. That was the plan.
Where I'd been standing before, the place with the rock, was practically a hollow. Just a pit of earth with a single slab in the center and a few stubborn patches of ground clinging to the sides. So, being the genius I am, I'd spent what felt like forever stuffing it full of whatever I could find. Dead grass. Dry bark. Twigs. Anything flammable enough to make sure the whole thing would turn into a funeral pyre the moment the creature dove inside.
The flaming stick Navi had given me was the trigger for this big gun.
And the damn thing was too stupid to ever guess it.
I watch as the flames roar up almost three meters high, the heat pulsing against my skin, the orange glow devouring the pit like it was eating reality itself. My hands tighten on themselves without me thinking. I find myself smirking.
Yeah. There's no way it's still alive. I'm not dumb enough to turn my back yet, but in my head I've already started the next step: meet up with Navi and Kyros.
I stare at the wild fire. The flames crackle and twist over the hole like they're dancing on its grave, hissing and spitting as they feed on the dry fuel. The smoke clings to my throat. Minutes crawl past…one, two….and I still don't move.
There's no sound. No movement. The chance of it being dead is nearly absolute. I'd say I'm tense, but I'm not. I'm confident.
That thing should have been incinerated the instant it fell in.
Finally, I shift my head, ready to move.
Strange though, isn't it? Normally, I'd be furious. This thing slaughtered my companions before, tore someone I knew, maybe not a friend, but someone, clean in half. Shouldn't I have felt something when it happened? Grief? Rage? Anything? But no. I'd just smirked. As if watching a cockroach slowly die.
The answer hits me like a hammer.
Impact slams into my back so hard the breath bursts from my lungs. I tumble, helpless, grass slashing my arms, my skull cracking against the ground as sky and earth swap places in a sick, spinning dance. My ears fill with a rushing wind that howls like a siren. When I finally skid to a stop, my whole body feels cracked in half.
Groaning, I clutch at my back, fingers digging into myself like that might dull the pain. Everytime I breathe in, it feels like something tears into my back.
Fuck. A rib's gone. I know it.
It hurts. It burns like molten iron in my lungs. Every tiny movement sharpens the agony. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, roll on the ground until I can prop myself up with one hand. My vision swims, but I force my eyes forward.
And then I see it.
Out of the fire rises a hand, if you can still call it that. Charred black, skin blistering and peeling, the flesh melting off the bone. It waves blindly before clawing at the earth.
I stagger up, clutching my side, staring, amazed.
Then the shoulders come, mountainous and burned even worse than the arm. Black and red streaks replace the once-pale hide. The head lifts last.
It had always been hideous, sunken bulging eyes, that crocodile-mawed snout lined with needle teeth that could tear into you like butter. But this is something straight out of hell.
The face is a melted ruin. Muscle and tissue cling like scraps of meat on a spit. Fissures of skin bubble and collapse into each other. A single eyeball droops from its socket, still boring into me. Veins, once covered under layers of skin a muscle, are now naked and twitching.. Its mouthis nearly sealed by burned flesh, yet still manages to split open enough to reveal teeth poking through from the roof of its jaw. Its muzzle hangs by threads.
And then it screams.
A shrill, human-like scream tears out of it, high and broken, echoing across the plain. Whether it's pain or rage I can't tell. All I know is that the sound drills into my skull and leaves me shaking.
Its mouth melts as it cries.
It lunges forward anyway, left arm dangling by a single bone like a torn flag, flapping behind it as it charges on three limbs. Its tongue, scorched and useless, coils around its own neck like a grotesque scarf.
I backpedal, then break into a sprint. My legs flail. My chest burns. I don't look back.
But I remember where I am.
I'm in a plain field. There's no cover. There's no trees. This thing is faster than me. All it takes is one second, and it'll be on me. Fatigue is dragging at my muscles. My heart feels like it's going to tear out of my chest. The heat of its body hits my back. The screams rise, then gurgle, its burned lungs making wet, horrible sounds. And still it runs.
Still it chases.
Why won't it stop?! Die dammit!!!!
"Ugah! Hah! Hah!"
I'm panting like an animal, praying for anything to save me. Is this karma? Retribution for burning it alive? Some divine punishment? No. No, it's evil. It deserves this. It deserves worse.
So why am I the one being punished?! This fucking monster deserves it!!
And then it happens. The smallest, most ordinary thing. My foot snags.
I trip.
It's over.
Still not accepting my loss, however, I turn around hoping for some semblance of god's help, that it won't kill me instantly. That it'll think 'I've scared him enough,' and would back off.
Or that it would grow full. Or that it would feel pity. Anything rushes to my mind, any possibility that this creature won't brutally gore me the first chance it gets. My hand raises in front of me.
To beg for mercy? To stop it from biting into me?
"Wait!—"
The creature slops to a stop in front of me, its melting face convulsing. I can see gray matter pour out of its brain, a pulpy mess flowing with unknown liquids. Its body shifts and twitches, moving yet not moving. Its mouth opens. Something inside it surges upward—
My world ignites.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
Fire. Hotter than anything I've ever felt. Burning flesh, mine. It hurled its own molten insides onto me!! I can't breathe. I can't think. Everything is screaming, me, the air, my skin.
I'm on fire.
I roll around on the grass. Everything is burning, everything is hurting. I can't breathe, I can't see, I can't hear, I can't do anything.
But it's not the fire that's killing me, it's the lack of air.
"ACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!! ACKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!"
I grab at my throat.
The air is hot, and every breath is just a feeble motion from my lungs. There's no functional use at this point. I can't even think about not wanting to die at this point; just the pain is at the forefront of my mind.
My screams slowly die out as I struggle to breathe.
I'm not melting just yet, but it still feels that it'll advance to that point at any given moment.
I'm dead…
I'm—
"Aeronis-1, Gust."