Chapter 24
Eight Limbs Part 4
The monster took a second step.
Fwoooosh! Another flame roared from the ground, climbing like an incandescent tide.
The wall shuddered, and again the officer raised his arms, forcing the energy to triple the thickness once more. The veins in his neck bulged, and a gasp escaped his lips, but the cube held.
The monster did not stop. It advanced calmly, indifferent to the chaos it caused. Each footfall was a new blast of fire, a whip of heat that lashed out with the force of a white-hot hammer.
Third step. The wave crashed against the cube, tearing off green sparks that floated in the air before extinguishing. The officer waved his arm again; the wall's thickness swelled once more, but his breathing became harsher.
Fourth step. The fire covered everything, so dense that for a second the inside of the cube was plunged into a blinding glare. The officer clenched his teeth until they grated, forcing the wall to reinforce itself yet again. Sweat streamed from his forehead, staining the floor under his boots.
Fifth step. Another flare. The cube tripled its thickness again, but now the vibration didn't fade: it remained latent, as if the structure itself was on the verge of collapse.
Each new wave convinced him more: he wasn't going to get out of there alive. The smoke outside thickened the air until it was unrecognizable, and with each flare, the glow enveloping the hall became more unbearable, as if the fire wanted to pierce even the cube's protection.
Gasping, the officer tried something else. Not just tripling, but quintupling the walls' thickness. He gathered energy in his arms, clenched his fists, and pushed outward with a contained roar… but it was useless.
He didn't have enough time; the creature was advancing faster and faster, and each of its steps was another wave that fell immediately. There was no respite between attacks.
"How much longer can I hold on…?" he thought, his teeth clenched to the point of pain. The question hammered inside his skull, growing louder and louder, until he could almost hear it over the roar of the fire.
Amid that hell, the officer tried to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable. His gaze darted from one corner to another, desperately searching for a way out, some crack that could offer him an escape.
But there was nothing. Everything he could see beyond the green walls was wreathed in flames: red-hot columns, collapsing beams burning like torches, the floor turned into a carpet of embers.
The heat was suffocating him, and just as the idea of the end began to solidify in his mind…
Thump!
A brutal blow shook the cube. The impact reverberated through the wall to his left, sending energy waves through the entire structure. The glow vibrated with a sharp hum, and for an instant the officer thought the wall would shatter.
His body reacted before his mind. He turned immediately, eyes wide open, surprise mixing with pure adrenaline. His hands instinctively dropped to his belt, taking a drawing stance, his body leaning forward, ready to respond to whatever had struck his refuge.
At that moment, two things surprised him, one after the other…
The first: the brutal feeling of emptiness at his side. His hand closed on air, where it should have felt the familiar hardness of his weapon's hilt. He turned with an instinctive start, quickly feeling the area of his scabbard… but there was nothing. No sword, no sheath. Nothing.
A chill ran down his spine.
"When did I drop it?!"
The question drilled into his mind as he searched frantically with his eyes, as if it might suddenly appear among the flames on the floor or magically stuck to his belt.
Then, a memory ignited, cruel and clear: the instant he dodged that table thrown by the fish monster. The jump, the fall, the impact against the debris…
"That must have been it!! Damn it, I didn't notice!" he thought, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw cracked.
But his expression changed upon seeing the second thing that surprised him: the fish monster.
The memory of that creature —so fierce, so impossible to contain— was still fresh in his mind. And yet, what he had before him was not the same enemy as before. The being was burning entirely, as if its own body had been condemned to a punishment.
It convulsed violently, its scorched fins flapping in clumsy spasms, its wet, gray skin peeling off in shreds under the fire devouring it. It rolled on the floor with dull thuds, leaving trails of ash and blood in its wake, crashing against columns that vibrated with each impact.
It jumped, thrashed, twisted upon itself like a fish pulled from water.
It seemed to be trying to tear its own skin off with bites, smashing against whatever it found, as if the pain were unbearable.
The officer watched it from inside the cube, his eyes wide open. That thing, which minutes ago had killed his companions, was now burning up before him.
It was obvious. It was suffering.
"Heh… heh…" The laugh came out forced, harsh, barely a snarl disguised as a sneer. The officer made a twisted grimace, as if laughing was the only thing left to keep him from breaking completely.
But the sound died instantly.
Fwoooosh!
Another wave of fire slammed into him, hitting the cube violently. The structure shuddered and contracted, forcing him to raise his arm again and force the energy to triple the thickness. The green flash illuminated his sweaty face, revealing the brutal effort marked on his features.
"Damn… why did there have to be eight…?" he thought, his mind racing as fast as his heartbeat.
"Could it be First Grade…?"
The idea froze his blood. If it was, if he was truly facing an aberration of that level, there was no chance of defeating it alone. It was only a matter of time before…
Sweat ran down his temples in warm streams, sticking his hair to his face. The drops blurred his vision, stung his eyes, but he couldn't wipe them away. His hands trembled, still raised before the wall that hummed with a deep vibration.
"Ahh… everything went so wrong. And all because of a stupid table…" he thought bitterly. The irony burned him almost as much as the heat.
"Hanz…" he murmured, turning his head slightly toward where the burly man should have been. The word came out broken, dragged away by the smoke. But the flames covered everything; there was nothing there but a blinding glare and pillars of fire devouring the space. No silhouette, no sign of life.
A shadow of sadness crossed his face, forced to coexist with the tension of combat. For a second, the weight of loneliness fell squarely on him: the idea that there was no one else, that his voice was lost in a void of fire and ash.
The flames gave no respite. Each wave hit the cube with increasing violence, enveloping it more and more, as if burying it in a bottomless, burning ocean. The hum of the wall reverberated in his bones. His breathing was barely a thread.
And then, without warning… they stopped.
The silence was so abrupt it was painful. It wasn't a clean silence, but one filled with crackling, the sizzle of embers, and the crunch of wood still being consumed. But compared to the relentless roar of the fire waves, it seemed like an absolute void.
The officer closed his eyes for just a second, seeking in that fleeting darkness a respite that didn't exist. When he opened them again, reality hit him full force. A twisted grimace formed on his face: there was nothing to interpret, nothing to guess.
The monster was right in front of him.
Its gigantic body filled the space beyond the wall, so close that every incandescent crack in its skin burned like live coal in the officer's sight. The flame of its "head" flickered with a savage brilliance, and every time it stirred, the air inside the cube vibrated as if it too were about to ignite.
Only the green wall separated them. A cube formed by three layers of thickness, which until moments ago had withstood the impossible. But now, with the creature motionless before him, that defense felt like mere glass about to turn to dust.
The officer swallowed, his throat dry. The irony wrenched a bitter smile from him that he couldn't contain.
"Haha… and now how do I get out of this alive?" he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if speaking to himself more than to his enemy.
A deep growl shook the air. It wasn't an animal roar, not even a human one: it was the vibrant bellow of an open furnace, as if the creature's innards were a burning crucible. The sound pierced the cube's walls, resonating in the officer's bones, who felt each vertebra respond with a dull echo.
The green wall trembled under that vibration, emitting a low, threatening hum, like glass on the verge of shattering. Even so, the officer did not take a step back. He planted his feet on the ground with stubborn determination, tensing every muscle in his body. Sweat ran down his forehead, but he didn't blink. He knew that if he showed the slightest hesitation… he would die.
And then, in the corner of his eye, something stole his attention.
Behind the burning giant, among tongues of fire licking the air, the fish monster was still moving.
Twisted, broken, it was still alive against all logic. Its body burned in convulsions, and yet it dragged itself as best it could toward the destroyed door, leaving behind a viscous trail that sizzled upon contact with the embers.
The officer looked at it for just an instant, without fully turning his head. That detail, that fish's obstinacy to reach the exit…
He had no time to react.
A dry snap announced the inevitable: a searing arm pierced the wall as if it were soaked paper, effortlessly, tearing the green energy into shreds of light. The officer barely managed to turn his head when the incandescent hand gripped his entire head, closing over his skull with the force of a burning press.
—"Ghkkk!— A choked groan escaped him, smothered under the weight of that claw. His body reacted on instinct: his hands immediately rose, grabbing onto the fiery arm in a desperate attempt to push it away.
The contact was instant agony. The skin of his palms ignited as if he had pressed them against red-hot iron. An unbearable pain shot through his nerves to his shoulder, wrenching a choked scream from him. His fingers twitched, but the burning forced him to let go abruptly, with an involuntary spasm.
Gasping.
He looked at his own hands and a chill pierced his chest. They were red, almost glowing from the heat, with the skin blistering and peeling off like dead scales.
Each breath trembled in his throat; the mere touch of air against the exposed flesh was torment.
The officer half-closed his fists, trembling, as if trying to clench them was the only way to remember he still had them.
The monster lifted him without the slightest effort, as if his weight were no more than that of an empty doll.
The officer felt his stomach turn in an instant; the world around him accelerated without warning. The flames, which before had surrounded him in constant waves, were now just red lines, blurry streaks stretching before his eyes. The floor receded at an impossible speed, while his neck creaked under the pressure of that incandescent hand holding him suspended.
A brutal dizziness struck him. He lost all sense of up and down, as if the entire hall had suddenly flipped over. And then he understood: he was upside down, suspended in the air, trapped like prey about to be devoured.
There was no warning, no roar, no preparatory gesture.
It threw him.
The officer was flying.
There was no up or down, just an uncontrolled whirlwind. His body shot out like a projectile, spinning aimlessly. Each rotation was a stab of vertigo: fire on one side, darkness on the other, repeating relentlessly. The air pressure stole his breath, his muscles didn't respond, it was as if he had ceased to belong to himself.
Thump!
The impact stopped him abruptly. The pain spread like a shockwave through his side, but what bewildered him wasn't the impact itself, but the sensation: it wasn't stone, wood, or metal. He had crashed into something alive.
Hard, heavy, but alive.
The collision was so brutal that for a second his body dragged the other with it, both falling tangled together. He felt tense flesh under his shoulders, solid bone resisting, and a shudder that confirmed what was in front of him wasn't a wall, but another being.
Confused, panting, he barely managed to think:
"What the hell…?"
But an instant later, it overwhelmed him. The momentum hadn't disappeared, and although his body was no longer colliding head-on, he ended up bouncing off that being, losing any notion of control. He spun over and over, carried by inertia.
And then, the world changed abruptly.
An icy current pierced him like a knife, wrenching a sudden gasp from him. He went from the scorching, suffocating air to the wet edge of the storm outside. The contrast was so violent that his burned skin reacted with a new pain, as if the rain itself burned him upon touch.
Crassh!
He hit the ground. He bounced once, twice, until his body ended up sliding a few more meters, rolling uncontrollably. The terrain was no longer the same: rough, uneven, soaked. Under his scraped cheek, he felt a mixture of icy water and wet wood.
He lay there for a moment, breathing with difficulty, dazed, while the storm roared above him and every raindrop felt like a cold nail driving into his reddened skin.
—"Khff…!— A cough shook his chest like an internal thunderclap. Each jolt made him burn inside, but at the same time he felt that with each spasm he expelled a little of the fire that had been devouring him.
Slowly, trembling, he raised his head.
He was outside.
The thick smoke was left behind; now it was the rain that surrounded him. He was on the ship's deck, sprawled on the wet planks that creaked under the weight of the storm.
Thick drops hit his face one after another, mixing with sweat and running over the open wounds on his hands, extinguishing the smell of burnt flesh that still pursued him.
He breathed deeply. Once, twice. The salty, cold air filled his lungs, harsh but clean, without embers or ashes. The difference was so violent it shook his bones: his whole body trembled.
In front of him, motionless on the deck, a few meters away, lay the fish monster.
Its grayish skin was blackened, covered in cracks that still smoked like dying embers.
Its entire body gave off a stench of charred meat that the rain couldn't erase, and every drop that hit it raised a new faint hiss, as if it were still burning inside.
The officer blinked incredulously, rubbing his eyes with his wounded hands, not quite believing what he saw.
—"Is it dead…?" he murmured, his voice broken by coughs.
He crawled forward a little, breathing with difficulty, his eyes fixed on that motionless silhouette that had killed his companions minutes before.
—"Really… it died like that…?"
With an effort that wrenched a choked groan from him, the officer pushed himself up.
A trembling hand pressed against the ship's planks, and the water running under his fingers, cold and constant, anchored him to reality.
He took a step forward, without thinking too much. Every movement hurt; his muscles responded slowly, as if made of rusted iron.
The sound of the rain and waves crashing against the hull mixed with his irregular breathing.
His free hand rested on his own chest, crumpling the torn, charred, and soaked uniform.
Another step.
He finally stopped before the blackened corpse. He remained there, upright but with his head bowed, the rain falling fully on his face, running over his forehead, cheekbones, chin.
Each drop brought him back to the present, but also marked the sepulchral silence of the moment.
The fish monster did not move. Only smoke and steam escaped its twisted body, mixing with the storm's mist.
Suddenly, geometric figures began to materialize on its skin. Triangles, rhombuses, interlaced lines of a translucent green shone upon contact with the open wounds, spreading over the arms, chest, and face marked by fire.
The light pulsed weakly, like an artificial heart, and with each flash, the burning consuming it diminished slightly.
The blisters stopped smarting, the pressure in his muscles eased enough for him to stand without trembling so much.
It wasn't a complete healing, but it was a respite: just enough for the pain to stop dominating him.
The officer remained still, his eyes fixed on the blackened corpse of the fish monster, while the geometric bodies traversed his own form.
He could have felt relief. He could have collapsed, grateful. But he didn't.
What emerged within him was different. A bitter confusion. A knot of emotions strangling each other without letting him think clearly. The void of fatigue filled with anger, and with the anger came something darker: a visceral hatred that didn't quite fit in his mind.
His breathing accelerated. His jaw cracked as he clenched it.
He didn't understand where this internal storm came from, but he felt it as strongly as the real storm surrounding him.
His mind was a chaotic swarm, a labyrinth of emotions blinding him more than smoke or rain.
—"Pathetic animal…" he whispered with sunken eyes, his voice hoarse, more worn by anger than by fatigue.
—"If you were going to die… you should have done it alone."
His words dissolved in the humid air, carried away by the incessant drumming of the rain against the deck.
No shout, no roar, no crackle of fire responded. Only the cold, methodical rhythm of the drops falling on the wood and the burnt flesh.
That silence, after the tempest of flames and roars, was unnatural. The officer remained there, motionless, feeling that every drop hitting his face was a mute accusation, an echo repeating his own failure.
For an instant, the world narrowed to him and that blackened body. The storm itself seemed to hold its breath.
And they seemed to hide what might have been tears.