Even while half-submerged in a hidden paradise, the obsession didn't sleep. Arch reached out his hand toward the shore where he had left his gear.
"Tact."
Using the precise gravitational pull of the Ope Ope no Mi, he lifted his phone from the pile of clothes. It floated through the air, encased in a small, protective bubble of spatial energy, and drifted right into his hand.
"I need a shot from inside the curtain," he muttered, grinning.
He moved behind the sheet of falling water, looking out through the translucent "wall" of the waterfall at the sun-drenched forest beyond. The light refracted through the crashing water, creating a kaleidoscope of greens and golds.
Click. Click. Click.
"This is the one," Arch whispered, looking at the screen. "This makes the eight years in the hole worth it."
While Arch was busy capturing the scenery, a sound drifted through the mist—the mournful pull of a violin. The melody was a charm, a solemn love song that felt like a soul longing for a lost beloved, only to find them again. Arch heard it, as did the snake-fox, but he didn't turn toward the sound. The music grew louder, more eager, a masterpiece from someone who lived and died for their art.
After five minutes, the music stopped. An echoing thud resonated through the glade, and the center of the waterfall parted like an automatic door. From a hidden cave emerged a man in black clothing. He was seven feet tall, with long black hair and elven ears, clutching a black violin. By any standard, he was handsome, but compared to Arch's unrealistic, ethereal beauty, he looked like garbage.
The man froze, staring at Arch's back. Arch had already activated his ROOM; he sensed the man and the treasures within the cave, but he didn't care. He was focused on his photos.
The man couldn't believe his eyes. The "woman" before him had a back so beautiful it defied reality—skin as clear as fallen snow and a tattoo he couldn't see properly because the long white hair that flowed like living art tried it's best to cover the art.
"A goddess..." the man whispered. He picked up his violin and began to play again, the tone shifting to a warm, fateful vibrato. The music spoke of destiny, of the wonder of finding such a creature. Seeing no reaction, the man stepped forward, though he dared not get too close.
"For such a Goddess to take a heavenly bath in this waterfall is a great honor," the man said, bowing low. "It seems fate has brought us together. My name is Fosse... may I know your sacred name, my Goddess?"
Silence. Then, Arch turned his head.
Fosse was left speechless. Up close, his own pride in his appearance felt like trash. Arch's face was a divine masterpiece: red, slit snake-eyes that could charm the blind, white eyelashes like frost, a nose crafted by the gods, and lips like a forbidden fruit. Fosse was so shocked the world seemed to stop. He didn't even sense the lethal danger radiating from those red eyes.
A sweet, charming voice—edged with a terrifying chill—broke the silence.
"First, you disturb me while I was taking photos. Second, you play your violin to charm me. And third... you dare... you fucking dare to call me a 'Goddess' to my face?"
Fosse wasn't even listening; he was too busy drowning in Arch's features.
"How dare you..." Arch hissed.
The frustration of three years erupted like a volcano. Arch let out a roar that shook the entire Kibi region. His head elongated into a green, draconic serpent. Dark green scales surged over his skin as his body expanded. From his shoulders, more heads burst forth—one, three, six—until a thirty-foot Lernaean Hydra towered over the grove.
The sight was majestic and terrible. The Hydra roared, a devastating sound that split the sky and echoed with the vibration of the world's end.
Fosse stood at the base of the monster, his black violin slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the stones. He wasn't running. He wasn't screaming. He was in a state of terminal awe. To him, even this terrifying end was a masterpiece.
The nine heads of the Hydra lowered, eighteen glowing red eyes fixing on the tiny man. In an ancient, resonant language that sounded like grinding stone, the heads spoke in unison:
"YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR IGNORANCE."
The dragon heads roared at him. The central head unhinged its massive maw
Fosse looked up at the central maw, a faint, dazed smile on his face. "A beauty... worth dying for," he whispered, his soul already halfway out of his body from the sheer pressure of the Hydra's presence.
BAM.
The central head lunged. In one swift, crushing motion, Fosse was gone—swallowed whole by the manifestation of Arch's rage. The violin lay abandoned on the shore, a silent witness to the man who mistook a calamity for a goddess.
The Hydra turned its nine heads toward the sky, the vibration of its roar still echoing. In Arch's mind, one thought burned brighter than the others: "YOU'RE NEXT, ROB."
The roar of the Hydra didn't just split the sky; it silenced the entire forest. Birds that had been singing seconds ago were now miles away, and even the insects had burrowed deep into the moss to escape the crushing pressure of Arch's presence.
As the ninth head pulled back from swallowing Fosse, the central maw let out a final, chest-rattling hiss. The "Goddess" was gone. In its place stood a thirty-foot Engine of Extinction.
Slowly, the massive necks began to merge. The dark green scales rippled and retracted, shrinking inward. The 30-foot beast collapsed back down into the shape of a man. Arch hit the shallow water of the pool on his hands and knees, the white towel still miraculously tied around his waist, though it was now soaked and stained with the grit of the transformation.
He stayed there for a long time, gasping for air, green steam rising from his skin. The silence of the forest felt heavy now—terrified.
"Gurarara..." Arch spat a glob of green ichor into the water. "Eight years in a hole... and I still can't keep my temper when someone mentions my face."
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■:[ Hey didn't yall notice that there were no ancient language anymore? That's thanks to me for translating it already ]...
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****The Fossegrim (or Strömkarlen/Näcken) is a Scandinavian folklore water spirit, a male being living in waterfalls, famed for playing mesmerizing violin or harp music that can enchant nature and humans alike, often teaching mortals masterful fiddle skills in exchange for offerings like meat, though disrespect can lead to drowning. He represents the duality of nature—beautiful and generous, yet powerful and dangerous—and embodies the idea that true mastery requires sacrifice, as students often bleed from practicing until their fingers bleed raw to achieve legendary skill.
(Image In the comments section) 👋🏻💀🤚🏻