Marcus took the tackle of an ant that tried to bite his stomach. He blocked it and, with an agile twist, rolled over it. Once he managed to position himself on top, he slammed his fist directly into its face.
Without losing time, he rolled across the ground to dodge another ant lunging at him.
Another attacked from his seven o'clock, but Marcus spun on himself, swiftly evading its charge, and, showing his strength, shoved it from the side into the ground and finished it with two powerful knee strikes to the head.
He stood up and scanned his surroundings.
The number of ants had been reduced enough for him to finally consider escaping the chamber.
During the fight, Marcus had felt the temptation to transform into his Monstrous Form, where controlling and crushing the ants would have been infinitely easier.
But he remembered Kara's lesson. Monsters, in addition to the five senses, are born with an innate sense to perceive ether. Transforming now would not only increase his power, but would also radiate an enormous amount of ether, giving away his position to any nearby creature.
With the mountain practically empty of students and no ant queen wanting to protect an egg, turning into his Monstrous Form would have made him an irresistible target for any remaining swarm.
Prudence and strategy far outweighed the desire to unleash all his strength.
Therefore, he was forced to formulate a plan. A plan that required the number of ants to be minimal, a condition that was now fulfilled.
Marcus began to move, hopping from foot to foot, swinging his arms to release the tension accumulated in his body after the battle.
His breathing was irregular, heavy, but each movement seemed to give him back a bit of clarity and control.
And he sprinted toward the elite ant that had been trying to avoid until that moment.
On his way, he dodged others that got in his path, slid over a few more, and kicked the smaller ones with calculated precision.
Each step was a reminder of the pain: his left leg was bleeding, deep cuts marked his torso, the black shirt had been dyed red, and the blows from the ants had opened wounds on his arms and back.
Blood dripped from his body.
Even so, his gaze remained fixed on his objective.
When he reached the elite ant, it tried to trap him with its legs, but Marcus dodged with agility, using his experience and battle-honed reflexes.
He began to circle it, studying every movement.
The ant, aware of the threat, spun on itself, trying not to lose sight of the young combatant.
On the third turn, Marcus stopped circling and shot toward the collapsed entrance.
The elite ant reacted immediately and followed him, heavy and furious.
When he arrived, Marcus stopped short and faced it. For an instant, the scene seemed clear: a young man exhausted, wounded, cornered against a rockfall, with a colossal beast blocking his path.
From the outside, anyone would have thought he was finished.
But then Marcus turned and ran over the collapsed entrance. His feet stepped on unstable rocks, and without losing momentum he leapt toward the vertical wall.
He planted one foot, then the other, and pushed off with all his strength, seeking the greatest possible height as he climbed the wall.
He remembered what he had seen in the egg chamber: Victoria using the transformation process not only as a change of form, but as a weapon.
Taking advantage of the sudden increase in size, mass, and weight of her Monstrous Form as a tool.
Marcus decided to imitate her.
When he reached near the ceiling of the cave, he twisted his body and faced the ant while he was in the air.
This time, the perspective had changed completely.
Marcus was above, looking down at it with icy eyes. The ant was below, confused by Marcus's actions.
He propelled himself toward it. The wind struck his face, tearing the breath from him.
And in the middle of the fall, his body transformed.
Vapor burst around his body, gray plates emerged, muscle expanded, mass and weight increased brutally.
In the next instant, the fist of Marcus's Monstrous Form descended like a meteor.
It struck squarely on the top of the ant's head.
The blow shattered its exoskeleton instantly and its head slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, cracking the rock beneath its skull.
The creature died instantly, crushed by a force that left no room for resistance.
But Marcus did not stop there. The moment he touched the ground, he turned and began to urgently clear the rocks from the collapse.
The task was brutal. His wounds burned with every movement, and the weight of the stones demanded more than his body had endured for hours. Even so, he planted his feet on the ground, buried his fingers between the irregular blocks, and pulled.
His muscles creaked under the effort, the plates of his Monstrous Form tensed, and with a growl he tore the first rock from its place.
Then another.
And another.
But it was too slow.
The ether radiated by his monstrous form spread like a beacon in the darkness of the mountain. Marcus felt it even before he heard it. Then came the sound: the heavy echo of multiple footsteps, the scrape of chitin against stone, the unmistakable clack of mandibles striking against each other.
The entrance corridor was filling up.
He clenched his teeth hard.
There was no time.
He doubled his efforts. With hoarse growls, he pulled with both hands, tearing out blocks that ripped his skin beneath the plates.
Blood slid down his arms, staining the rock.
The pain was constant, sharp, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.
The sounds were getting closer. Too close.
Suddenly, he felt a violent tug on his foot. He looked down and saw an ant clinging to his ankle, its mandibles sunk into the flesh. He roared and crushed it against the ground with a stomp, but others were already emerging from the shadows.
—Come on… —he muttered through clenched teeth.
With one last desperate effort, he tore out a large rock blocking the center of the collapse. The gap was not wide, but it was enough.
Barely.
Just enough for a human body. Not for a monster.
Marcus did not hesitate.
He let his Monstrous Form fall away. The reverse transformation hit him like a hammer: the weight vanished at once, strength diminished, and the pain of his wounds returned in full force. His legs wavered, but he held on as best he could.
The ants were already upon him.
He threw himself toward the gap, crawling, scraping his body against the rock, feeling mandibles clash inches from his feet.
A claw grazed his calf, tearing flesh away, but Marcus pushed with his elbows and shoulders, forcing his body through.
And then he fell on the other side.
He rolled across the ground, gasping, covered in blood, dust, and fragments of rock. Every breath burned his chest.
He had no time to rest.
Four ants managed to squeeze through the gap before the collapse finished closing. Their bodies crawled between the stones, mandibles open, determined to finish him.
Marcus tried to get up immediately… and failed.
One arm trembled as he planted his hand, the other took a second too long to respond. He growled, forcing his body, and managed to get halfway up.
His legs felt as if they were filled with lead.
The first ant attacked. Marcus moved too late. Even so, he managed to step aside clumsily, grazing the charge. The movement tore a harsh gasp from him.
The second charged without giving him respite.
Marcus turned again, slower, and swept his leg in a wide, heavy motion. The sweep was not clean; he dropped to his knees beside the creature.
He raised his fist.
He brought it down.
And brought it down again.
Each blow was slower than the last, but he did not stop. Three impacts on the same spot until the body stopped resisting.
Three left.
Marcus got up with difficulty, leaning for a moment against the wall. His shoulders rose and fell irregularly.
The next ant lunged straight at him, trying to impale him.
Marcus feinted; the movement was short, imprecise, but enough. The creature crashed into the rock.
Marcus took a second too long to react. Then he caught it under his arm, his elbows no longer fell with explosiveness, but with weight.
Each downward strike was accompanied by a hoarse growl, as if the body protested every action.
He did not stop until the ant lay inert.
Two.
The fourth charged.
Marcus glanced at the corpse at his feet, calculated… and took too long.
Even so, he kicked the body with what little strength he had left. The ant fell. Marcus advanced, dragging one foot, and lifted his leg with effort. The first stomp was unsteady. The second, decisive.
One.
The last ant did not move. It watched him.
Marcus barely remained upright. His arms hung limp, fingers numb. Blood ran down his face, mixing with the dust. When the creature leapt to his face, Marcus reacted more by instinct than by will.
He crouched slowly, caught it poorly, and both fell to the ground.
Marcus ended up on top. He raised his fist… hesitated for a fraction of a second… and brought it down.
He did it again.
And again.
Each impact heavier, slower, until the body beneath him stopped moving.
Marcus remained there, kneeling, breathing with difficulty, unable to stand immediately.
He tried once more. Forced his legs, tightened his abdomen… and slipped.
He fell forward, managing to brace his hands against the ground before hitting fully. The impact drew a low groan from him. When he raised his head, he saw blood falling from his body in thick drops, marking the cold rock with dark, irregular stains.
He took a deep breath.
He tried to stand again. The world answered by betraying him. The edges of his vision warped, the center became blurred, and little by little, darkness began to devour everything. Marcus understood instantly.
He was passing out.
He let himself drop to his knees before losing his balance completely. He placed one hand on the ground, the other on his own thigh, and stayed there, breathing slowly, forcing his body not to shut down.
Each inhalation was deliberate. Each exhalation, a struggle.
A few eternal seconds of heavy breathing passed in the cave.
When the darkness receded enough, Marcus moved again. This time he did not stand up all at once. He rose little by little, stopping halfway, waiting for the world to stop spinning. When he finally stood, he remained still for a moment, letting his body adjust.
Then he began to walk.
Each movement reminded him of the state he was in, but even so he advanced, determined, leaving the chamber behind at the cost of what little strength he had left.