The stench of blood thickened.
Before Damon, the creature shifted once more, its flesh distorting, organs slithering beneath skin like worms. What emerged now wore the twisted mockery of Gerald's form.
Eyes sockets gouged, seeping pitch black darkness, hair writhing into a tangled crown of blood snakes. Hissing and coiling with a will of their own. Its body had been forged into armor, if you could even call it that; it was organic, pulsating like fresh, condensed muscles stretched across bone. The creature gripped Rudy's sword in one warped hand; the blade had changed dramatically as well. Veins bulged across its surface, thorns coiling around the blackened hilt, anchoring it in the creature's palm like a parasitic limb.
Then, with a ragged breath that rasped through teeth not its own, it raised its hollowed gaze towards Damon and asked, "What year is it, brat?"
Damon flinched before responding."...4046 ".
Hearing his response, a low growl tore from the creature's chest, more animal than human. It began to shout, its voice breaking between rage and glee.
"Damn you, Tomoe! You coward!. Thirty years? Hah... thirty years... Thirty damn years I've stewed in this prison of trees!" Its voice cracked into laughter before sharpening into scorn.
"Want to know a little secret, brat? I was one of her students once, A disciple, A true believer. And she tossed me aside like garbage!. It took years to find her, but she only saw me as a stain on her name!, banishing me to rot here in this damn cage." Its laughter became even more frantic as it continued, "I'm sure she's been watching, inside this prison, I've eaten at least forty of you brats. One after the other, they came here falling for my little tricks, and she just let it happen, didn't stop me, didn't even warn them."
"What are you talking about? No way that's true", Its words filled Damon with disgust.
The creature tilted its head, the red snakes flickering in response to its breath as its grin cut across its face like a wound.
"You're a smart brat, you should understand, she wanted you to see this."
Damon's breath quickened. Each word the creature spouted clawed deeper into his mind. His throat tightened, his lungs were straining for air like drowning hands grasping for the surface.
Then he heard something.
"Your breathing is uneven, focus."
A voice warm, clear, yet firm whispered beside his ear.
Damon jolted. A white silhouette shimmered faintly just behind him, barely visible against the gloom of the mist. It stood still, calm and familiar.
It was Liz, the real Liz.
"Focus. It's using a mental technique on you; don't let doubt take root. You know better."
But Damon hesitated, startled, and he blinked once.
And in that Instant, the creature moved. A Crunch echoed as its elongated left arm struck upward, flowing into an uppercut lined with bone aimed for his stomach.
Bang!
Instinctively, Damon crossed his arms to block the fist just in time, but the sheer force lifted him off his feet. Knocking him back through the air. He slammed to the ground hard as the remainder of his breath was torn from his lungs, His body convulsing once before the world went dark.
****
Meanwhile, in the simulation room, it was lit by overhead red alert lights.
Vincent, Ethan, Cassie, Josh, Fin, and Henry stood over Damon's real body. His body trembled as faint convulsions shivered through his limbs. Blood pooled beneath his head, leaking slowly. His jaw clenched, then loosened as crimson foamed at the center of his mouth.
"Shit! He's seizing! Get him on his side, Now!" Seeing what was happening, Ethan immediately reacted, instructing Vincent on what to do. Understand that Damon was in a precarious situation, Fin and Cassie ran off without hesitation to call for their mother.
While Vincent and Henry carefully rolled Damon, Ethan activated his healing skill and mystic eye to diagnose the injuries. Watching the blood spill freely from Damon's mouth onto the floor, he noticed Damon somehow had four broken ribs and minor damage to his lungs. This realization shocked him deeply. This was the first case he had seen of someone getting injuries transferred to their real body during a trial.
'What's going on? It shouldn't be possible for the wounds in the simulation trial to reflect onto the--' Interrupting his thoughts, he heard Damon's raspy breath through his throat, now shallow and ragged.
Increasing his output on his healing skill, Ethan grasped Damon's shoulder firmly. "Wake up! Damon! Stay with us, dammit! You've got to fight! "
The room flickered.
******
Hearing a voice shouting his name, Damon's eyes fluttered open.
His vision was fogged. Everything trembled at the edges as his hand moved weakly to the back of his head. The warmth of blood was coated on his fingers.
Cough..... Cough... Cough...
Learning forward, he coughed hard; each breath came with a stabbing pain. The blood his mouth spilled onto the ground.
A creature's laughter echoed once again as it slowly walked towards him, dragging the sword beside it. Its voice cracked like broken glass.
"Another brat dying ...kekeke.... Good. She'll watch you die, too."
Lunging forward, the creature appeared over him, grasping the sword with both hands. It slashed downward with its full energy output.
BANG!
Whoosh!
The sheer force of the strike split the earth and created a small crevice. A dust cloud of debris was stirred up by the air that flowed along the blade, yet when the dust cleared, the creature was shocked to find Damon's body not at his feet.
'The brat managed to dodge that?' How? I didn't even see it happen, but I'm sure I felt the brat's energy spike for a moment there.'
Swerving to its left, it discovered him attempting to flee. "Leaving so soon? Is your will that weak?" Slouching forward, it bent its knees slightly before extending its bloody tendrils, propelling them towards Damon.
Huff… Huff. Huff
Breathing heavily, he ran with all his might. His only thought now was to survive. When the creature's blade descended upon him, his confidence had completely shattered, and he froze up without time to dodge the attack, yet he miraculously survived. He had felt a force pull him back out of the creature's reach. He knew he had expended most of his energy, so without hesitation, he ran.
As the tendrils rapidly approached Damon's back, he heard Liz's voice return.
"Why are you running? I'm sure you feel it, you're more than capable of dealing with that thing, as long as you use what's special about yourself."
Damon was both confused and surprised. 'I have something special? .... what's so special about me? I don't even know myself!'
As if hearing his doubts, another familiar voice sounded. "Your will is strong, Damon. It's just you haven't realized it yet." The blurry silhouette of the real Gerald appeared behind him, smiling softly, before both vanished.
'Wait, Liz! Gerald! I don't understand. Caught off guard by their sudden disappearance, Damon was lost in thought. He thought about just continuing to run, but he soon realized that he was slowly reaching the barrier of the mist.
"Will," he muttered with uncertainty.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the word, his presence shifting as he suddenly stopped running. Leaping sideways, Damon then slid across the ground, barely dodging the closest incoming strike. In his confusion, he felt he was slowly grasping something as his core node began subtly pulling in spiritual energy from the mist.
Turning to face the creature, He began moving faster than before, not away from fear but confronting the danger with purpose. Each strike of its tendril was met with rapid slashes from his blade. Sparks flew as muscles were split, painting the soil red. He cut through the air with precision as he dashed towards the creature, never once breaking sight of it. Not this time.
The creature became amused seeing this change, Taunting Damon with a sneer etched into its face, "You can't defeat me by just slashing off my tendrils."
As if reacting to its words, Damon's eyes sprang open, jumping, he leapt on top of the thickest tendril. Twisting his body, he pivoted into a swirl, slashing tendrils as he flew through the air. He quickly closed the distance, shocking the creature.
Watching the blade slowly glide to its neck, the creature easily knocked the blade off course with its left fist, pushing Damon back slightly before shooting a tendril from its chest, yet Damon's speed increased again; he vanished before the tendril could even make contact.
"What?!"