The abnormal was small—barely four meters—but quick. Its face looked like some middle-aged drunkard, twisted and hungry, movements jerky, crawling on all fours like a beast.
It closed the distance fast. Ten meters.
Lock thought he'd be frozen, trembling. Instead, blades steady in his grip, he felt strangely calm. The terror had burned away, leaving only focus.
If I can't run, I'll cut you down.
The titan lunged. Lock fired his anchors, cables biting deep into its shoulders. The gas burst roared, yanking him off his horse and into the air.
The titan's eyes—huge, wet, filled with mindless hunger—locked on him. Drool streamed down its chin. Its hands shot up to snatch him from the sky.
Lock twisted his body, using the belts at his waist to spin through the gap between its fingers. He skimmed past, so close he felt the wind of its grasp.
He released the anchors, re-fired in an instant—straight into its eyes.
The steel bolts punched through with a wet crack. Blood fountained, blinding the creature. It didn't scream. Titans didn't feel pain. It only thrashed harder, arms sweeping blindly, desperate to seize him.
Lock didn't hesitate. He landed on its shoulder, boots striking flesh, and sprinted up the slope of its body in a blur. One more shot—cables latching into the nape.
"Die!"
Gas hissed. He drove forward, twin blades flashing, hacking through the neck. Flesh parted, steaming, until the cut severed clean through. The head toppled, the body collapsing beneath him.
For a heartbeat, all was still. Then the titan's remains began to collapse inward, steaming, shrinking like a punctured bladder.
Lock stood atop the dissolving corpse, drenched in blood, chest heaving. His boyish face looked older in that moment, eyes alight with something hard.
He had won.
The fear that had threatened to choke him before now seemed absurd. Against steel, training, and will, a mindless titan was only meat.
And yet—beneath the relief—something darker stirred. The rush of the blades cutting, the thrill of overpowering the monster… it felt good. Too good. Like some hidden part of him, starved for violence, had finally woken.
There's a demon in me, he realized, almost with a smile.
The steaming husk deflated to nothing. Lock whistled sharply; his horse galloped back to him, obedient as ever.
Heat shimmered off the dissolving corpse. Lock squinted through it, muttering under his breath, "Not even a grave left behind."
From the distance came the sound of hooves—others were riding back.
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