– Enter Joseph –
Without a moment's hesitation, the terror beast swung its massive, chitinous pincer at us, the hinge crackling like a thunderclap. We vanished from its crushing arc, our bodies weaving through the hot desert wind, then countered with a flurry of blows—pummeling its jointed legs, hammering at its hardened husk, slashing at its lidless eyes. Each strike rang hollow. The creature's armor absorbed our assaults as though it were carved from living rock.
All that remained were our burning fists and a cold knot of despair tightening in our chests. We staggered back, dust rising in swirling eddies around our ankles. If brute force couldn't fell it, there had to be a vulnerability hidden beneath that nightmarish carapace. Claws?, Hell maybe even the legs.
"Joseph, aim for the gap under its belly—where the armor's weakest," Hadal shouted, voice cracking over the beast's guttural roar. Relief surged through me. I'd overlooked that slender target in my frantic barrage. But there was a snag: we carried no blades, no spike or shard to pierce the shell. All we had were our fists—and raw resolve.
We channeled our flow energy, layering a trembling sheath of power around our bodies to blunt the next impact. I raised my head. "Split up," I ordered. "We'll feint our usual strikes, but each of us coils our focus on that one spot."
The plan was simple enough—deceptively so. One misstep and we'd end up shackled beneath its pincer, or worse, devoured alive. We broke apart, darting around its looming bulk like frightened shadows. Every feigned jab, every sideways swing, baited the beast closer. Its breathing rattled the air; each exhalation was a gust that carried grains of sand stinging our cheeks.
Suddenly, the creature unleashed an aura surge—an invisible wave that slammed into us like a battering ram. We were thrown off our feet, skidding across the dunes. Before we could recover, the beast's arms stirred the sand into razor-sharp spears. Shards of grit shredded my shoulders, slashed across my ribs, and bit into my legs. My vision blurred with sweat and blood.
"Dammit, Hadal…" I gasped, pressing a trembling hand to my side, where fresh lacerations burned like molten iron. "I don't know how much longer I can—"
"Get up!" he barked, jaw clenched, eyes blazing with stubborn fire. "If we fall now, that's it. No rescue comes. It's us—or it."
His words lit a spark in my chest. Pain flared, but beneath it flickered defiance. I shoved myself to my feet. "All right. Let's finish this."
With roar and rasp, we charged once more, striking precisely at those sinewy tendons under its belly. Each punch hammered home only when the beast lunged and missed—our dancing, bait-and-switch routine. At last its bulk wavered. The creature staggered, its jointed legs trembling like saplings in a gale.
"We're doing it!" I yelled, backing away to dodge its sweeping claw. A banshee's screech tore from its throat, a sound so piercing I clutched my ears as if to rip my own eardrums free.
"Now!" Hadal howled. "Use it!"
Drawing on the last reserves of my flow energy, I inhaled deeply, letting the world slow and sharpen. My skin prickled; every nerve lit with crimson sparks of power. In that moment I saw only darkness—save for two flaming silhouettes around the beast: one in bloody red, the other an abyssal black.
"Yes…" I whispered. "There it is."
"SOUL SMASHER—FIRST MOVE: SOUL SMASH!" I roared, coiling the crackling energy into my fist and driving it forward like a piston of pure force.
But before my punch could connect, the flow technique fizzled into nothingness. Pain exploded along my side as steel teeth tore flesh. I collapsed to one knee, coughing up blood into my shaking palm. When I dared lift my head, the terror beast was gone from before me. Only a pool of ichor stained the sand.
A low rumble betrayed its movement overhead. I glanced up to see it clinging to the cliff's rim, scales glinting in the sun, then springing down onto the beach. It landed with a muted thud—and I nearly didn't recognize the form that greeted us. Where once it towered like a crumbling siege tower, it now stood no taller than a school bus, its jagged spikes smoothed into a sleek shell, its sinewy tendons wrapped beneath glossy armor.
Hope slithered away, leaving dread in its place. My ribs burned, my knuckles throbbed, and I tasted iron on my tongue. All that remained was this final, impossible fight—until Rose arrived, if she arrived at all.
"Hadal," I rasped, forcing a wry, pain-laced laugh. "You probably guessed what this means."
He wiped sweat and sand from his brow, eyes narrowing as he surveyed the agile beast. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It's traded raw power for speed."
Even without flow, the aura rolling off its smaller form hit like a wall of heat. This wasn't the beast's rage anymore. It was its patience. The difference between a creature that wants to crush you and one that wants to watch you understand what's coming. My legs were already done. My ribs were already done. The sand stretched flat and open in every direction, and there was nowhere—not a shadow, not a crevice, not a prayer—to go.