AM N. NOT.!!ヽ(ﾟдﾟヽ)(ﾉﾟдﾟ)ﾉ!!
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG.....
The corrosive acid spheres slammed into the Wooden Aegis. No fiery blast erupted – instead, a shockwave of wind tore through the chamber with bone-rattling force, snuffing out the torches that lined the pyramid walls and plunging half the space into deep shadow.
The acid spheres didn't shatter on impact. They spun like grinding wheels, boring their way forward, eating through wood as if it were wet paper.
CraaaaaAaaAaaAaaack…
Cracks spiderwebbed across the shield's surface as the corrosive green tide crept inward.
Sriiieeeeeeeksssss…
Thick plumes of toxic steam billowed upward as the wooden hands melted and warped, their fibers dissolving into black sludge that dripped to the floor in smoking puddles.
But the Tukeraq Aanaa weren't done. Even as their first attack pushed through the shield, the Devouring Flowers on their heads began churning out new acid spheres – faster this time, bubbling and seething with hungry energy. The beasts themselves charged forward, hooves hammering the floor as they closed in on the failing defense.
Yet the clones atop the Nessus showed no fear. No panic. Their eyes were steady as stone.
From below, the original Maki's voice cut through the chaos – low, calm, unshakable.
"Imarpi niuvaqutut."
("Calm like the sea.")
In that instant, the Nessus moved. Their massive wooden hands began to shift and twist, the grain of the wood rippling like water as they molded into new shapes. Curved blades extended outward, growing longer and sharper with every heartbeat until each hand had transformed into a thirty-foot scythe – edges so fine they caught the faint light like glass.
All six of the centaurs' hands had become weapons of war.
The Nessus pivoted, their deer-horse legs thundering across the floor as they darted around the failing Aegis. The scythes scraped against the wooden ground, sending showers of sparks flying and leaving deep gouges in their wake. Defense was abandoned – now they hunted.
The Tukeraq Aanaa spotted them the moment they broke cover. With snarls of triumph, they unleashed their unfinished acid spheres – smaller than before, but no less deadly.
ZAAAAAXAAAAAZAAZAAZA…
The Anomalies laughed – a sound like grinding stone. Wood against acid – what chance did they have?
Foooooooosh. Foooooooooosh... Fooooooosh
Three acid spheres, each the size of a car, streaked through the air like green comets.
But the Nessus kept charging, horns low, scythes ready.
Just as the spheres were about to strike – WHAM!
Massive tree branches erupted from the pyramid walls, coiling around the acid like serpents constricting prey. The branches tightened, containing the corrosive blast in a writhing cage of wood. Two new figures landed lightly beside the fray – Maki 4 and Maki 5, their eyes blazing with focus.
Zaaaaaaaaaaaaqaaaaaaaavaaaaa…
The Anomalies roared at the fresh "insects" that kept appearing, but the clones paid them no mind. They had come to fight, not talk.
The three Nessus closed in on the screaming Tukeraq Aanaa, and the beasts met them head-on. They tensed to charge another acid sphere – but before they could even begin to concentrate their power, Maki 4 and Maki 5 slammed their hands together.
The entire pyramid vibrated. From every beam, every wall, every pillar, thousands of branches burst forth like spring growth. At the tip of each branch, a wooden anchor took shape – crafted with brutal precision, hooks sharp enough to slice through steel, let alone skin. The clones wove the branches into living lassos, their movements so synchronized it looked like one mind guiding a thousand limbs.
Then, with a single sharp point of their index fingers toward the beasts' heads, they gave the command.
Swooooooosh… Swooooooooooooosh... Shooooooooooosh... Shooooooooosh...
A whistling storm filled the air as the anchors shot forward. The Tukeraq Aanaa were too focused on the charging Nessus to look up – their skull faces were tilted down, Devouring Flowers aimed at the centaurs, their vision narrow and fixed on the kill.
Zaaaaaaap…
The first anchor coiled tight around a Devouring Flower, its ropes biting deep into the petal's flesh. The Anomaly jerked its head back in shock – but zaaaaaaaaap – another anchor snared it. Then another, and another: zaaaaaap… zaaaaaap… zaaaaaap… zaaaaap…
Zapping sounds echoed across the chamber as anchors wrapped around every part of the beasts – sealing the Flowers' maws shut, knotting tight enough to squeeze any acid that tried to seep out. More anchors rained down, winding around heads, necks, arms, torsos – until the Tukeraq Aanaa were wrapped in a web of wood as thick as chains.
They thrashed and roared, swinging their massive arms to crush the bindings. But every splintered piece was replaced in an instant, more branches surging forward to fill the gaps. The beasts were like prey swarmed by ants – outnumbered, overwhelmed, their size now a curse as more wood found places to cling.
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVAAAAAAVAVAAAAAAHAAATAAAAZAAAAA…
Desperate roars tore from their skull mouths, reverberating through the pyramid so powerfully the sound shook the walls outside. They lashed out with claws that could shatter stone, snapped their long necks to break free, even gnawed at the wood with their hollow jaws. But the anchors kept coming – endless, unyielding, wrapping tighter with every struggle.
Zaaaaaaaaaaazaaazazsazzazazza…
The screams turned agonizing – part rage, part plea – echoing off the wooden walls like ghosts crying out in pain.
Then, in perfect unison, every clone spoke – their voices cold as winter stone.
"Qanoq qinigiaqarpuq."
("How noisy.")
The Tukeraq Aanaa were bound like sacrifices on an altar, their bodies twisted and trapped. The Nessus advanced slowly, deliberately – their scythes still scraping the floor, creating a high-pitched whine of friction that set teeth on edge. Then – foooooosh – flames erupted from the scythe tips, racing down the blades until the entire three-hundred-foot length was wrapped in roaring fire.
The centaurs moved like executioners, each step of their deer hooves sending tremors through the floor that the trapped beasts could feel deep in their bones.
Baaaaaang…
The Tukeraq Aanaa's legs gave out as anchors wrapped around their hooves and pulled them tight to the ground. They collapsed, skull faces pressed against the floor – but when they lifted their heads to snarl, they saw the Nessus looming over them, firelight dancing across their wooden forms.
Who is the ant now? their posture seemed to say.
Zaaaaaaaaaaaazaaaa,aaaaraaaaazaaaa…
The Anomalies roared their defiance – but a deep, cold voice cut through their rage, speaking in their own guttural tongue. They couldn't see him, but they felt his presence – heavy, final, absolute.
"Zaaavaaaaraaaawaaamaaaaazaaaaxaaaraaaamaaagraaaam."
("Next time remember – don't be disrespectful.")
The three Nessus raised their six burning scythes high. They weren't aiming for necks or bodies. They were targeting the one thing that had brought chaos to this place – the beasts' mouths.
The clones atop the serpent heads slammed their palms down hard against the wooden skulls.
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaang… baaaaaaaaaaaaang… baaaaaaaang…
The burning blades descended, driving straight into the Tukeraq Aanaa's skull mouths. The fire seared through wood and scale alike as the scythes pushed deeper, sliding down their throats like hot knives through butter. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing… The blades split the beasts' long necks from the inside out, and thick, dark blood – deeper than human blood, almost black in the shadow – gushed out in torrents, pouring across the floor like a river breaking its banks.
The original Maki stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the dying beasts.
"You have a loud mouth," he said, his voice flat and final. "So ripping it out means silencing you – right?"
The Nessus withdrew their scythes, now blackened with blood and soot. Their hands shifted back to their original form – massive wooden palms that wrapped completely around each Anomaly's head. With slow, deliberate strength, the centaurs lifted the beasts' bodies high above their heads. Blood cascaded down their wooden forms, soaking them in the dark lifeblood of their enemies.
The dead Tukeraq Aanaa hung like trophies. In the wooden pyramid, there were no cheers or applause – only silence. Deep, complete, and final. The peace that should have been there all along had returned at last.
AM N. NOT.!!ヽ(ﾟдﾟヽ)(ﾉﾟдﾟ)ﾉ!!