Sairen rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the blow. The segmented tail crashed into the ground with a thunderous roar, kicking up sand and shredding webs into tatters.
The earth quaked under the impact, a wave of dust washing over his face. Then came the screech and a sharp crack—heavy pincers sliced through the air behind him, as if chasing a fleeting shadow.
Sairen dove behind a shattered boulder, gasping for breath. His chest rattled with each heave, his heart pounding like a war drum. The creature let out a guttural, metallic shriek, like iron scraping glass.
*Click.*
Sairen pulled the trigger. No shot—just a faint crackle and a dim spark in the barrel.
"No…" he whispered, clicking the bolt.
The pistol was dead. The magazine empty. The silver engravings on its frame dulled, as if silenced by betrayal.
No time to dwell—a shadow flashed past, and a pincer lunged at him again.
Sairen leapt aside, rolling over his back and springing to his feet. His body moved on instinct, as if it knew what to do.
Pain flared in his skull, sharp and piercing, like needles boring into his temples. The world blurred, his pulse merging with the hum around him. His muscles felt leaden, his mind flickering like a dying lamp.
Another tail strike whipped past, so close it sliced the edge of his shirt. Sairen collapsed behind a crumbling wall, pressing himself against it.
The creature growled heavily, listening. Its sensor-eyes flared red, scanning the dark. It seemed half-blind, its movements sluggish.
Sairen crouched behind the wall, gulping air. He checked the pistol—no more shots. The engravings glowed faintly, reflecting his dwindling ether. Then, a bold idea sparked. He exhaled hard, trying to calm his racing heart. His mind flared, time slowing around him.
The tail slammed down, shattering part of the wall beside him.
The creature froze, slowly turning toward him.
Sairen closed his eyes for a moment.
A searing pulse of ether surged in his palms—unstable, warped, but potent for one last push.
"Alright… all in," he breathed, rising to his feet.
Gripping the pistol like a club, Sairen stared coldly into the iron beast's eyes.
"Come on…"
He barely ducked as a pincer swung within an inch of his face, shredding hanging webs and carving a deep gouge in the stone floor. Without a second's pause, he lunged forward, under the rising tail, and grabbed one of its segments with force.
The rough metal scraped his hands raw, but he pulled himself up, climbing each ridge and curve like the ruins of some ancient machine. The creature thrashed, trying to shake off the parasite on its back, but Sairen was faster. He hooked a leg around a ridge on the monster's spine, focusing.
His free hand gripped the pistol. The mechanism hissed, radiating pulsing heat like a living thing. Sairen gritted his teeth, channeling a trembling stream of ether into it.
Sparks flew. Dark streaks crawled along the engravings, as if the metal blackened from within. The air around him vibrated.
*Just a bit more… hold on…*
The tail crashed nearby, dislodging stones from the ceiling. But Sairen was already moving, reaching his target—a tiny breach between the neck and body, left by an earlier shot. Thin cables, like nerves, pulsed in rhythm with the machine.
With uncanny precision, he jammed the barrel inside.
The creature's pincers flailed, useless from his perch on its back. It writhed, bucking to throw him off, but Sairen held fast. Legs clamped tight, he poured ether into the weapon through a remote channel. The stream grew wilder, like a storm trapped in a bottle.
The pistol grew hot. The metal darkened, then flared silver, then glowed white-hot.
Its surface groaned, cracks spidering along the grip. The magical engravings flickered, resisting the overload. The pistol was no longer a weapon—it was a bomb, ready to tear everything apart.
The creature moaned, a trembling, unnatural sound, as if the machine itself sensed death. It thrashed harder, cables straining, its vocal module emitting a distorted screech of alarm.
Too late.
Sairen kicked the grip, driving the pistol deeper into the joint. A sharp jolt of ether backlash burned his hand.
*Now!*
He let go, launching himself sideways with a powerful leap, rolling across the sand. The explosion roared a split second later.
A deafening blast erupted in the creature's neck, like steam bursting in a furnace. A blinding surge of dark flame and smoke poured from the breach, accompanied by a metallic scream. The segmented body convulsed. Red sensors on its head flared and died.
The beast froze. Its limbs slackened, pincers drooped, and the tail slumped to the sand with a dull thud. Smoke rose from the blast site, reeking of scorched insulation and molten metal.
Sairen lay panting, barely feeling his hands.
"It worked…" he rasped, a hoarse laugh breaking through as tension drained from his muscles.
His body ached, his head throbbed, but he was alive.
The mechanical beast stood still. Silence blanketed the stifling tunnel.
But it lasted less than ten seconds.
A familiar low hum echoed from the darkness, from the depths of the underground complex. It rolled through the walls, chilling Sairen more than the webs and dust ever could. The grind of gears, the clank of heavy mechanisms, the hiss of gas grew closer.
Sairen froze.
From three sealed passages, silhouettes emerged—exact replicas of the slain beast. Iron titans with octopoid bodies, crimson eyes, and deadly tails. Their clicks hammered his mind.
Sairen staggered to his feet, fist clenched. His legs buckled, his heart pounded in his throat. The throbbing pain in his head was unbearable, the machines' hum piercing him, merging with his agony.
Three laser beams flashed at once. Red lines crossed his chest, converging on his heart.
"Damn it," he hissed.
The whir of gears sharpened. The shrill buzz of pivoting tails and the snap of priming weapons filled the air.
Sairen stepped back. Behind him, the wreckage of the first beast. To the sides, bare sand and walls. Above, unreachable darkness. And ahead, death waited.
A dead end.
Sairen exhaled, heavy and bitter. Then—he smiled.
"So where's my final trick?" he rasped, locking eyes with the advancing monsters.
They stepped closer. The walls shook under their weight. Crimson eyes glowed in unison.
Sairen stepped forward, like an actor taking the stage. He raised his hands, not in surrender, but as a man ready to face the storm.