The vibration started in his teeth.
Sal stood still, the pale moonlight casting long, jagged shadows across the ruined hive. He let the grit settle against his sweat-dampened skin. The low, droning hum beneath his feet deepened, shifting from a mere sound into a physical weight that pressed against his chest.
The sand ten yards ahead buckled. It didn't just shift; the earth violently rejected what was underneath it. Geysers of golden grit erupted into the night air. Wasps—thirty, maybe fifty of them—tore their way out of the dunes in a chaotic cloud. Their wings beat with a deafening whine, a disorganized swarm searching for a target.
Then, the center of the dune caved outward.
A massive, armored head breached the surface. The Broodmother. She was the size of an adult ostrich horse, her carapace thick, scarred, and coated in a sickly, amber sludge. Her beak snapped like iron shears, loud enough to cut through the hum of the swarm. Compound eyes, black and multifaceted, gleamed with fury as she dragged her massive thorax out of the pit.
At that sight, a spike of genuine dread pierced Sal's chest. What was he thinking? His stump throbbed, a phantom ache echoing the violent spike in his pulse. Could he really do this? Or was he just a stubborn fool walking into a meat grinder?
"Take a deep breath, kid," Crow's voice dropped into his mind, smooth and unbothered. "I've seen the Avatar himself bleed; a bug is nothing. We also have the shadows. The element of surprise."
'Easy for a ghost in a ring to say,' Sal thought bitterly. 'It's my blood on the line.' But he swallowed hard. The dread didn't vanish, but it hardened into something sharper. He stepped backward, retreating into the pitch-black shade of a collapsed sandstone wall.
He felt it as Phantom Meridian activated.
The transition was instant. The crunch of sand beneath his boots ceased. His ragged breathing muted into absolute silence. He looked down at his own hand and saw only a blurred, indistinct edge where flesh met darkness. He wasn't just hidden; he felt excised from the world itself.
The Broodmother's head snapped up. Her antennae whipped through the air, tasting the wind. The swarm circled her in an agitated frenzy, searching.
*[Perception Rolls - Req 65 / Broodmother: 51 (Fail). Swarm: 60 (Fail)*
They couldn't see him.
A cold, wicked thrill spiked through his chest. He wasn't the hunted anymore. He was the predator. Sal didn't smile—he didn't have the Qi to waste on arrogance—but fierce pride flared hot in his belly. He focused entirely on the ground directly beneath the massive beast. His left hand rose, fingers curling inward, feeling the individual grains of sand through his connection to the earth.
He closed his fist.
*[Earthbending (Smothering Attempt): 87 vs Broodmother: 40 - Success]*
The dune beneath the Broodmother turned to liquid, then instantly hardened like a closing jaw. The beast shrieked, a horrific, grating sound, as she dropped three feet into the sinkhole. Sal twisted his wrist, pouring his Qi into the earth, demanding the sand to compress.
The sand gripped the Broodmother's six legs and the lower half of her thorax. He felt her sheer physical power fighting back through the earth—a terrifying, raw strength that threatened to tear his bending apart. He gritted his teeth, his muscles trembling, pushing the sand denser, tighter.
*Break.* He poured all his rage into the crushing grip. A loud *crack* echoed across the desert as her outer carapace fractured. Green ichor welled up from the fissures.
The anger surged into bloodthirsty euphoria. He had her. He just needed two more turns to pulp her organs and prove he didn't need two hands to be lethal.
But the disorganized swarm was frantically sweeping the area in the dark.
*[Agility Roll (Evasion): 19/40 - Failure]*
A buzzing weight slammed into his shoulder. The impact didn't hurt, but the sheer shock of it shattered his godhood. He stumbled, his cover blown. Sal threw his hand up, trying to instantly raise a barricade of jagged sand spikes around himself.
*[Earthbending (Porcupine Defense): 45 vs Swarm: 92 - Failure]*
The defense crumbled before it could form. His concentration snapped. The grip of his Qi faltered for a fraction of a second, loosening his hold on the sinkhole.
The swarm reacted. Ten wasps pivoted mid-air, locking onto his sudden appearance. They dove.
Claws and stingers hooked into his shirt, his trousers, his shoulder. Their wings beat upward in unison. Sal's feet left the ground.
They were going to drag him into the sky.
Sal roared a curse. He refused to be prey.
As they hoisted him higher, Sal thrust his hand down.
*[Earthbending (Anchor/Shield): 94 + 5 (Obsessive but Skilled) - 5 (poisoned) = 94 vs Swarm: 87 - Success]*
The desert answered his fury. A column of dense sandstone shot upward, latching onto his boots like an anchor. The upward momentum hit a dead halt, their wings straining against the sudden weight.
Sal pulled the sand higher, cocooning himself and the grappling wasps in an earthen shell.
'Die already!'
He yanked his arm down.
Gravity and bending slammed him back into the dune. The armor compressed inward. A dozen wasps pulverized against him with a wet *crunch*. Chitin shattered. Green blood sprayed his face and chest.
Sal hit the ground, his knees buckling. His breathing came in ragged heaves.
A screech tore through the settling dust.
Sal jerked his head up. Because his concentration had broken, the Broodmother had torn free from the sinkhole. Missing a leg, her carapace cracked and leaking fluid, her eyes locked directly on him.
The Broodmother launched herself forward, a battering ram, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
**[Evasion Roll: 4 - 5 (Poison) = -1 - Critical Failure. Obsessive does not activate.]**
**[Broodmother Attack: Passed (Target 86)]**
Sal tried to shift his weight, to drop the anchor and dive, but his muscles screamed. The stone was too heavy, his body too drained.
If he couldn't move, he had to brace. With a desperate heave of his arm, he dragged the bug-soaked sand upward. He forced it into a thin barricade directly in her path.
The beast didn't even slow down.
She hit the barrier smashing through the dense sand as if it were dry clay.
"Fuck—!"
The impact wasn't a blow. It was a tear.
**Hp - 18/40
Qi - 15/50
Status Effect Applied: Severe Bleeding (-1 HP/turn)]**
A jagged beak snapped around his ribs. Bone cracked. Air left his lungs in a rush. He was ripped from his footing, hoisted, and carried backward.
His vision fragmented into white static. The pain drowned out the wind, the buzzing, the desert. There was only the grinding of the beak against his torso.
**[Endurance Saving Throw: 12 / Req - 50 - Failure. Penalty: -20 to next Earthbending attempt]**
He raised the stump of his right arm. His good hand clenched. He didn't pull on his Qi; he tore the reservoir open.
**[Earthbending (Crush): 91 + 20 (Max Qi) = 111 - Critical Success. Positional Advantage neutralizes -25 pain/poison penalty]** **[Broodmother Defense Roll: 30 - Failure]**
Two massive slabs of sandstone erupted from the dunes on either side of the beast. Sal squeezed his fist. The slabs clapped together with a crunch and the pressure on his ribs vanished. The pulverized carcass dropped to the sand, dragging him down.
He hit the earth and dust plumed around him. The surviving wasps shrieked, diving for him.
Sal didn't fight. He pressed his hand against the dune, willing the grains to part. It was sluggish. Agonizing.
**[Earthbending (Escape): 29 - 10 (Exhaustion) + 5 (Obsessive) = 24]**
**[Swarm Agility Roll: 24 (Target > 48) - Failure]**
The swarm crashed into the spot he occupied a fraction of a second later, claws scraping the sealing sand just above his face.
Then there was darkness. The weight of the desert pressed in, trying to crush the breath from his lungs. He pushed his left hand forward, clawing into the packed grains. His shoulder screamed. His knees scraped against grit. He let the tunnel collapse behind him, an endless cycle of burrowing and burying.
"Keep going," he mumbled, swallowing dust. "Not here... not yet."
The frantic digging of the wasps sent sharp tremors through the sand, vibrating against his spine. He angled his body deeper, letting gravity help him sink. The scraping claws dulled, muffled by tons of sand, but a new rhythm replaced them in his head.
*Thump. Thump.* Heavy. Angry. His father's boots stomping across the floorboards. The crack of the whip. Sal blinked in the pitch black. Why was he in the dark? Did the old man lock him in the cellar again? He reached out for the wooden door, but his fingers met collapsing grit.
Confusion gave way to adrenaline. The cellar vanished. Reality crashed down on him. He was buried alive. He inhaled sharply, a panicked reflex that should have choked him with dirt. Instead, his subconscious bending maintained a porous veil of grains inches from his face. The air tasted of rust and salt.
**Quest completed - 5 tp awarded**
"You're leaking, kid," Crow's voice echoed in his head, "And quite fast, too."
'I'm… bleeding?' So the wetness sticking his shirt to his ribs wasn't sweat? He pressed his hand against his side. His fingers slipped into a pulpy divot in his flesh. Warmth pulsed out in a heavy rhythm.
"No…no no no no no…"
**Hp - 12/40
Qi - 2/50**
Friction dragged against the torn flesh with every inch he crawled.
'Am I going to die down here?' He tried to pull the surrounding sand together to force it against the wound, but the connection was dead. His Qi was a dry well. He pushed his own hand against the tear, trying to stem the tide, but his grip was weak, his fingers slick. The blood kept coming. It wasn't working.
He dragged his body another foot. The sand behind him clumped together with his own warmth. His eyelids felt heavy and he felt his mind becoming unfocused.
The elders of his tribe used to say the Si Wong was a harsh mother, but a fair one. When a sandbender died, their spirit didn't travel to a Spirit World oasis; they returned to the dust. They scattered on the howling winds, formless, a part of the great storms.
Sal's teeth ground together in a flash of rage.
'No.' He had lost his arm. He had been cast out, hunted, humiliated. He refused to become just another nameless dune for merchants to trample over. He denied it. He wanted to scream, to curse the spirits, to curse his father, but his throat only rattled. He was too weak. The anger smothered under a wave of despair.
The wasps were gone, but the buzzing grew deafening inside his skull. The darkness tilted.
His arm buckled. He collapsed into a hollowed-out air pocket. He couldn't lift his fingers to check the wound anymore. The desert's chill crept through his soaked clothes, settling into his marrow.
His pride crumbled. 'Please,' he thought, projecting the plea inward toward the metal banded around his soul. 'Crow... help me. Please. I don't want to be dust. Don't let me be dust.'
"Got to hand it to you," Crow murmured, his tone light. "Squashing that oversized roach was a beautiful piece of work. You've got guts, Sal. Real grit. It'd be a damn shame to lose a vessel like you so soon. Don't die on me now."
The voice didn't come from the dark. It came from the ring.
**[-5 TP. Trait Acquired & Upgraded: I Am. A. Sandbender.
(Effect: +1 to earthbending skill when bending sand. Cost: 2 Trait Points))
(Trait upgraded to level 2 - cost 3 tp)
(Effect: +2 to earthbending skill when bending sand.)
Sandbending skill after modifier - 15
Death Chance reduced to 25%]**
A rush of power flooded the bond. It wasn't a refill of Qi. It was raw understanding. An epiphany of control. The sand didn't just respond to him anymore; it obeyed him. He didn't have to wrestle the earth into shape. The grains yearned to serve him, folding to his will as naturally as clenching a fist.
**[Death Saving Throw: 33 + 5 (Obsessive) = 38 (Target > 25) - Success]**
He didn't need to focus. The sand shifted on survival instinct. Grains crawled up his side, sliding directly into his torn flesh. It ground against raw muscle, packing the wounds with bone-crushing pressure. Sal choked on a gasp, his spine arching as the grit filled him. The seal hardened into sandstone, choking off the blood flow.
[Status Update: HP 5/40 (Stabilized. Bleeding stopped.) | Qi 1/50] The sharp, stabbing agony receded into a heavy, suffocating throb. Sal's mind swam, buoyed by reverence.
'He didn't let me die… He saved me once again…' Gratitude burned hotter than the fading venom. He wasn't a cast-off. He wasn't alone. He had the Ring.
**Trust + 20 Control + 5 / Bond = 55 (t 40/c 15) -> +2 tp, New traits unlocked for purchase**
His consciousness frayed. He drifted in and out, but his newfound instinct drove his final act. The sand beneath him shifted, smoothing out and contouring perfectly to his battered spine to hold his broken ribs steady. The loose grains above compacted, forming a rigid sandstone arch to hold back the crushing weight of the dunes.
A weak, breathless chuckle rattled in his throat, tasting of copper. The walls were perfectly rectangular, perfectly still. He was encased in solid sandstone, buried deep beneath the desert. He had built himself a tomb.
He let his eyes close, safe in the crushing dark
—------------
A.N. - Sup I'm back. To explain why you weren't given a choice whether to save Sal or not by spending TP, Some choices are locked in depending on your previous choices and the events happening in the present moment. The original death chance for Sal was 35% when he was bleeding out undergoing btw. Bro really got lucky. Anyway, I'll put the current stats in the author notes. Now check out the new traits.
—-----------
Tp - 2
Traits available for purchase:
Old -
Shifting Sands
Effect: Grants the ability to sense sand within a limited range, detecting vibrations to "see" through it without using sight. This effect also works with earth, though at half efficiency.(Cost: 4 Trait Points)
.
Fratricide
(Effect: +5 to all rolls against those who share a close blood relation with the Host. Cost: 1 Trait Point)
—------
New :
.
Earthen Phantom
The memory of Sal's lost arm is a phantom ache that refuses to fade, a constant reminder of his humiliation. But where flesh failed, the desert provides. The earth remembers what was taken, and it is eager to make him whole.
(Effect: Sal can intuitively construct a temporary, fully functional prosthetic arm out of compressed sand or rock. It requires a constant, minor drain of Qi to maintain, but it allows him to execute complex two-handed bending forms and grapple opponents with a bone-crushing grip. Cost: 4 Trait Points)
.
Grit in the Veins
Surviving the venom of the buzzer wasps and nearly bleeding out in the dark has fundamentally changed Sal's physiology. He didn't just pack his wounds with dirt; the desert has become a part of his lifeblood.
(Effect: Increases the Host's natural resistance to all poisons, toxins, and venoms by 50%.
(Cost: 3 Trait Points)
.
Blood of the Si Wong
Normal earthbenders manipulate the minerals in the ground. Sal's connection has become far more intimate—he bled into the desert, and the desert packed itself into his veins to keep him alive. The line between his flesh and the earth has permanently blurred.
(Effect: Sal can use his own spilled blood as an absolute bending medium. Any sand or earth soaked (not just 'touched by'- Soaked) in
his blood becomes an extension of himself; it requires 90% less Qi to manipulate, and it is almost impossible to be bent by other earthbenders while he himself is using it. Cost: 5 Trait Points)