The world erupted into a flurry of movement. The small monkey that scaled the walls, now accompanied by the seemingly never-ending tide of monsters, quickly scaled the walls. Once it got closer, its speed hiked immensely, dashing upwards so fast Zander could barely track the beast. It zipped around with a blur, speeding up until it reached the edge. Zander watched as a small, clawing hand reached upwards, a faint red glow emitting from its thin, padded skin.
"Stand back-!" A man grizzled and older, with a thick beard of white and gray stepped in front of Zander, pushing the terrified man behind him. "We've got a pack leader!" He yelled towards his comrades, extracting a palette of reactions from the soldiers alongside the walls. Three more soldiers came rushing towards them, and they collectively surrounded the monkey, who currently stood posed in place. The small glow that surrounded its body felt as if it was pulsing, scanning the complex. It let out an abhorrent, unnatural screech before leaping towards the nearest person, being the old man who pushed Zander out of the line of fire.
It moved faster than Zander could process, its body blurring and bending around his vision. The buzzard left behind a trail of red, the same distinct glow that actively emanated from its body. Before it could reach the man however, his spear shot up from his hands, slapping the creature down to the ground, sending it reeling as its smaller body was hit with an overwhelming force. While it sat, winded, the four soldiers used the opportunity to stab it, impaling the monkey on their spears, shouting triumphantly as it took its final breath with a whisper, contrary to its rallying cry from before.
"Sir! Get a weapon, we need to hold the walls! The horde will be here any minute." The older man whipped around to look over the edge, thinking quickly. He turned back to Zander, shooing him away. "They're almost upon us!" He said, his voice rising boldly above the scurrying soldiers, barking orders and sharpening their blades. "Prepare to hold the horde back!" He moved into a readying stance, looking like a basketball player attempting to box out an opponent, his spear fastened securely to both of his hands, which did not shake.
Maybe this won't be so bad… Zander thought, before rushing away towards the group of soldiers. He found a spare weapon, a small, sharpened but not particularly impressive sword. It'll have to do, he thought before rushing back towards the nearest group, any other people that could use a hand. Just as he was about to arrive, the full force of the massive horde hit them, with hundreds if not thousands of tiny bodies spilling over the edge.
The closest soldier to the ledge was swarmed and fell on his back. Zander recalled seeing the man the day prior, a bright man around his age, who smiled to every person that walked by. His screams echoed throughout the crowded balcony, a desperate cry of pain and agony as thousands of razor-sharp teeth sunk into his skin,
Biting,
Rending,
Twisting his flesh.
His cries petered out as quickly as they started. The monkeys tore through his throat with unerring efficiency, leaving whatever remained as a gargled, jumbled mess. Their small hands managed to fit between the gaps in the man's armor, prying off their thick plate in an instant. They tore through what laid underneath, and Zander looked away, unable to see any more of the rest of the man's tortured existence. His hands shook violently as he lifted his sword towards the mass of bodies. He hesitated for a moment, scenes of carnage from his earlier encounter with the thrall flashing through his mind, the gore and carnage sending shivers down his spine, but he ignored it, and lunged forwards, swinging his blade in a large, cleaving arc.
He pierced three of the buzzards with a single swing, butchering them in place as their skin parted with extreme ease. They're weak he thought, before pulling his sword back, now plastered in thick blood, and swinging again. This time, it killed another two, before being lodged in a third, stopping its sweeping arc. The creature caught by the blade pushed itself towards Zander, moving further into the blade as it impaled itself, its claws desperately lunging towards Zander's unprotected body. Blood spewed from the wound as it continued to move, until the blade pierced through its chest through the back. Somehow it continued further, and further, inching closer towards Zander. With a desperate cry, he kicked towards the monster, his foot colliding with its small face, sending it flying back, and dislodging itself from his blade, dead.
[Buzzard (Basic) Killed]
[Buzzard (Basic) Killed]
[Buzzard (Basic) Killed]
[1 Essence Gained]
[Buzzard (Basic) Killed]
[…]
A string of notifications followed, and a measly amount of essence spilled into Zander's soul, sending that unfamiliar, warm feeling pulsing throughout his body. From the six buzzards alone, he only managed to earn two essence. These monsters aren't even worth a single essence individually! He thought. The thrall had managed to give him twenty, but he learned that the amount of essence was unusually high, due to it being a more evolved version, a brute.
Around him, scenes of carnage unfolding at an unrelenting pace, all with varying success. He watched soldiers hold their lines of defense, wading through the seemingly unending times with their relentless wall, but in other places… those weren't so lucky. There weren't soldiers at every possible gap, and a few buzzards had managed to snake through. They poured through the gaps in the line, dashing towards the people who stood quivering in fear behind them, desperately trying to barricade their rooms.
A man who looked like a merchant of some sorts tried to run, but a buzzard quickly cut his ankles, sending him tumbling to the ground. He let out a shuddering wail as he crawled along the ground, dragging his bloody ankles behind him, leaving a small trail of viscera. Unfortunately for him, the buzzards were not kind enough to let him escape. A single buzzard leaped atop the man, its paws clawing at his neck. His screams increased, peaking in intensity and horror as their claws dug further, piercing the skin of his neck, sending droplets of flesh flying in all directions, staining his bright green tunic a sanguine red. His horrifying cry disappeared faster than it initially appeared as the man's head was ripped clean off, launching into the air as the creature's single-minded pull launched it upwards, only to be caught by another one. The last thing Zander saw of the man was his corpse, covered from head to toe in buzzards, who chomped into his organs like peasants at a feast.
Zander tried to gasp, equally in awe and terror, but it was caught in his throat as more creatures burst over the edge, throwing themselves towards him at an intense speed. He swung his blade clumsily at the nearest buzzard, the point slicing a few small hairs off the top of its head, which fell to the ground in a small pile. The fast beast caught his arm, lunging itself up the length of his appendage before swiping for his head, its claws shining in the piercing red light.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Zander reared his head back violently, throwing himself off balance and sending him tumbling towards the floor. As he fell, the razor-sharp claws that threatened his lower chin just barely grazed his skin, sending a small streak of red across its length, as if he'd cut himself when shaving.
He fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, hitting the ground with a wave of impact, that flew from his legs to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. As he heaved for breath, the other buzzards didn't bother waiting for him to recover, with at least five of them clinging onto a piece of him, clothing across his body like a snake lunging for the kill. He screamed in terror as they climbed atop him, their claws digging into his skin, ripping, plunging deeper and deeper, filling his mind with intense, unending pain-
Until it stopped.
[Ability: Adrenaline used]
[Ability: Calm Mind used]
The pain disappeared in an instant, falling away despite the gore erupting from the monster's claws that tore him apart. His mind cleared of panic, the desperate dreams of escape disappearing from his mind as he disregarded any inkling of a plan. His pained grunts turned into a guttural growl, emerging from his very core as he heaved with all his might, pushing the horde off them, sending them flying away, skidding a few feet across the floor, their claws creating a piercing, ear-shredding sound as they ripped apart the carpet, catching their balance.
Zander's eyes burned with intense heat as he pushed himself onto his feet, before the remaining herd of buzzards pounced on him again. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he processed each individual movement, watching their trajectory and nudging his body just ever so slightly out of the way. In an instant, time returned to normal, and the monkeys flew past him, each one barely missing by an inch.
Before they could regain their bearings, Zander launched himself towards the nearest monkey, slamming the hilt of his sword into its head, sending it tumbling to the ground as the world spun around it, a piercing groan splitting the space between them. He quickly raised his foot, his shadow encompassing the small creature, before slamming down on its head, which cracked! And with a jerk, it was dead.
Stay focused! He thought to himself as he swung around, raising his blade just in time to meet the next buzzard, their talons slamming into the metal, sending sparks flying through the air, illuminating the nearby carpet in a shower of sparks. The area around him turned into a miniature bonfire as the carpet burst alight, before the fire dissipated, sending a wave of heat across Zander's exposed face.
Crude!
He sent a punch flying towards its fluffy body, sending it soaring into a nearby wall, his strength seemingly elevated higher as he moved, energy continuing to fill him up. He felt as he would burst with a desperate, inherent need to move, to slam the nearest living being into the wall, to deliver a flurry of blows onto them with brutal efficiency.
Three more moved around him, and he clumsily swung his sword in a wide arc, piercing two in the tops of their head, his sword cleaving through the first with little difficulty, before lodging itself in the skull of the second. He pulled, his muscles straining with effort as he tried to remove the weapon but found himself unable. The remaining buzzard roaring at the loss of its comrades, seemingly enraged as its attributes took on a superhuman-like status, blurring in place. It took on a familiar, red glow as it moved faster than he could perceive.
He looked around, desperately searching for some sign of the beast that remained, his calm expression fading as the panic returned. He felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of dread, circling him, leaving hm delirious. He felt dizzy as he spun in place, continuing his frantic search, before the dread exploded to his immediate left, and he raised his arms desperately towards its direction.
Two pairs of long, red gashes appeared across the skin of his arms as he barely managed to block the attack from reaching his neck. His eyes widened, his pupils dilating in fear as he felt the incoming rush of death.
Two more gashes appeared on his shoulder, even closer to ending his life as Zander fell on his back, a whoosh of air appearing in a gust right where he previously stood, narrowly dodging a quick end. He let out a yelp of terror as he rolled, using every remaining ounce of strength to move as fast as he possibly could, yet he knew it was simply a matter of time before the creature's claws found his neck.
The blur re-appeared, this time he found himself barely able to track it, catching just the outline of the monkey as it ran towards him, the red glow of its eyes leaving a trail as it ran, an afterimage of death. Zander's journey flashed before his eyes, mixed memories of scattered moments of his life before the layers, which felt like just days ago, jumbling and smushing together in a mismatch of scenes, incoherent and garbled. Flashes of a face, his mother, his father, drifted through his mind, their faces frozen in time from all those years ago. His older brother and best friend Jiwoo, terrified and crying in the burning remains of a metal coach, the car mangled in the background as he stood over Zander, cradling his arm. The burnt orange illuminated two figures in the front seats, their silhouettes unnaturally still.
Just as he felt the pinch of the beast's claws reach his skin, feeling his skin split as blood spilled forward, beginning to coat the surrounding area in a thick coat of red, the pressure levitated literally lifting above his head. He opened his eyes, which he didn't realize he had closed, and his jaw dropped in awe at the sight before him.
A sound like a tree tearing itself from the ground, as if a tornado flung its roots from the soil, uplifting a forest in an instant emerged, and Zander watched as the buzzard was flung into the air before it could even react, impaled on a spike of hardened, sharpened wood. It emerged from the carpet, enveloping the nearby area in a small layer of roots as the spike rose from the ground, raising a full seven feet above the layer carpet that now filled with the buzzard's blood.
Zander lay on the ground, clutching his bleeding shoulder as he watched the shuddering final breath of the monster that just nearly took his life, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the roots suddenly dash to the right, coalescing together underneath another buzzard, impaling it in place, before dashing to another, and another, splitting into two, then four, then eight. The horde erupted into a shower of blood, coating the office space in a blanket of scarlet viscera as the soldiers began cheering, watching the formerly formidable horde lose half its numbers in a matter of seconds.
From the large staircase that led to the guard post, Matsuo, clad in a coat of harsh brown wood, which covered his features in a thick armor, imitating that of a fully steeled knight, emerged, his hands swishing from side to side like a conductor. With each wave of his hand another monkey was impaled, and soon the battlefield turned into a lush filled plain. A forest of spikes littered the surrounding area, each impaled monster growing a horizontal layer of branches, each tipped with vibrant green leaves. They resembled crosses, like the outskirts of a roman settlement, with thousands of crucified monstrosities.
Zander did his best to join the cheering crowd, but his voice was gone, replaced with a gargle of blood as his mouth filled with thick liquid, embedding the taste of iron into his senses. He struggled to position himself upright, crawling to a nearby wall to prop himself up, his eyes meeting Matsuo's as he felt his vision darken. He jolted awake, as if catching himself on a sleepless night, and looked downwards towards his body.
His clothes were torn in a dozen spots, and he sported nine intense, bloodred wounds. Four lines of claws lined his arm and shoulders, and half a dozen more splotches of gore shredded his chest, where the beasts climbed atop him, tearing him apart. The wounds ran deep, and he knew he was losing too much blood, so much so that he felt as if he was withering away, dried and drained of his very essence.
Matsuo scurried to him, flanked by a pair of guards. He placed his hands upon Zander's shoulder, and he felt a warm glow as the man muttered something under his breath:
[Lesser Healing]…
His voice trailed off, as if out of thought, but he felt his wounds slowly begin to close with a painful pinch. He winced as the wounds began to stitch themselves back together, burning where they touched, but the pain was temporary. He gritted his teeth as he rode through the pain, feeling as if dozens of needles pierced him simultaneously, until they suddenly stopped, and he was left with overwhelming soreness. He couldn't move even if he wanted to, so he merely watched.
A familiar face stood beside Matsuo. It was Sarah, clad in a thick, dark blue coat, which shrouded her features down to her boots. Mixed between vital organs were plates of armor. A small breastplate covered her chest, and underneath her cloak her legs were completely layered in armor. He was almost certain that her shoulders boasted the same protection, yet he couldn't fully see. Her face was half submerged in blood, staining her skin like a distinguished birthmark. Strangely, he couldn't see any weapons on her, her back and belt missing a scabbard. Even the blade she'd used to threaten him with earlier was missing.
Just as he was questioning her safety choices, his sight dimmed once more, feeling as if the lights were growing less vibrant, and a seeping gray slowly crawled from the corners of his vision. His head dipped once, twice, three times before he couldn't find the strength to carry on, only managing to stare blankly at his bloodied chest before he began to fall into the grasp of sleep.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
As soon as the red lights burst through the window that accompanied his room, Matsuo knew trouble was afoot. Having just finished a meeting with the head of defense, he'd made his way to the comfort of his bed, seeking a slight respite before the activities of the next morning. His head grew sore as he thought of the incoming troubles that lumbered his way, his mind drifting towards the curious young man that survived the Starbound Massacre, the sole survivor of what he deemed a rampaging thrall, of at least brute class.
Before he could think on it more, his door burst down in a heave, piling tens of miniature, writhing bodies onto the matte placed just inches from his door.
Buzzards?! He quickened his movements with a practiced fluidity, pointing his hands to himself as a small root of bark emerged from the ground, twisting around his boot like a snake pouncing on its prey. In precisely two seconds it slithered up his body, expanding and enveloping his clothing, leaving only his head exposed. The nearest buzzard slashed towards him, yet its claws found themselves unable to pierce his armor, and with another wave of his hand, five monsters found a spike through their mouths, slowly dying as they fell further onto the spear of wood, in excruciating, immense pain. If they could feel pain, that is.
His mind wandered as the next group of buzzards were wiped out. He heard the screams of tens, if not a hundred people locked in a violent struggle below, past the security wall that barricaded the secondary exit to the complex, and the armory that housed his guards.
He swept through the neighboring rooms, finding Sarah standing over a mountain of bodies, a small smile on her face. He narrowed his eyes as he watched her, her breath heaving as blood dripped from her cheek. Another brave soul in face of the Lord's trials… he thought to himself. His perception was filled with admiration, inspiration beaming from her every movement, before he caught himself, coughing into his hand.
"Ah- sir! A group of buzzards crawled up the side of the second entrance. I managed to clear out this group, but a few of them managed to head towards your room." She said, her voice cracking as she noticed him standing behind her but straightening out as she grew serious.
"And you assumed I would be able to deal with them?" Matsuo asked, raising his eyebrow upwards, slightly unnerved.
"You're here, are you not?" She replied, looking past him. "The guards need help. I think we've got a large raid, something bigger than we've faced in the last year alone. There's bound to be some pack leaders, and we don't have any abilities that cover a wide area, except for yours." She muttered some words under her breath, before gesturing towards Matsuo. "The Surveyor's dead, so we can't just autonomously clear out the monsters. They need you down there. Now." Her voice was stern, and she stared directly into Matsuo's eyes, as if searching his soul. He didn't have the time to contest her, even if he wanted to.
He did not bother to think before rushing towards the door. Sarah followed in tow, her footsteps rapidly speeding up as she used her superhuman strength to match his pace, rushing down the stairs. Another man, a guard, filed in as well, equipped with a massive halberd that dwarfed even Matsuo in height. He clasped his hands together in a silent prayer as they moved to find what remained of their people.
He killed the remaining horde as soon as they entered his vision, his hastened mind struggling to slaughter the thousands of beasts in just a minute, leaving only his wounded soldiers remaining. Only a few emerged unscathed, lifting the more heavily wounded onto their shoulders, or helping the remaining few that could walk away from the edge.
His gaze swept among the crowd of bodies, eyes locking with that of another. It was that man… the same that piqued his interest earlier. He was propped against a wall, stuck like a pig with nearly a dozen wounds, leaving a trail of what looked like guts behind him. Around him lay the bodies of ten buzzards, with a singular monster pierced by one of Matsuo's own spears. That raised an eyebrow from him. How could a newcomer manage to fend off nearly a dozen monsters smaller and faster than a dog?
Shaking his head out of it, he sprinted towards the man, whose head lulled towards unconsciousness, the pain returning to his eyes. He placed his hand upon him, casting [Lesser Healing] before taking another glance at the impaled buzzard. Its body emitted a smaller, light red glow, that of an evolved buzzard.
A pack leader… he took on a pack leader by himself and lived? He asked himself, his palm rubbing the base of his chin. Clearly a speed type. It only evolved into a brute class buzzard, yet something like that would take out any copper-ranked human. He had good instincts. Matsuo smiled towards the young man, who looked up towards his second in command with a child-like curiosity, before falling into a deep slumber. Matsuo knew he would be fine once he awoke, but he dared not take his eyes off for a moment, entranced in thought.
Wails of pain brought him out of his thought-filled stupor, and he spun in place, making his way towards the huddled group of wounded soldiers, who carefully applied bandages to their wounds. Some had even dozens of tiny, minute cuts that lined the gaps between their armor, and some had lost pieces of armor entirely, ripped away from them by the dozens of buzzards that poured over their line of defense. They were intelligent beasties, intelligent enough to recognize the importance of their armor after just a few ineffective swipes. The thought of a highly intelligent, ever evolving pack terrified Matsuo, and he shuddered at the mere thought of it. Even a few more brutes, or even a variant… he grimaced as he thought of a buzzard with a magical ability, coupled with its unique intelligence.
…
Hours later, Matsuo sat in front of a large round table, carefully sculpted from the familiar wood that lines the outskirts of the complex. Around him, in large, fantastical chairs that resembled thrones, twenty hardened soldiers, layered in scars, muttered to each other nervously, assessing damages and swiftly handing papers between their shivering hands whilst Matsuo watched on, his face grim.
"Sir…" Bernard, a grizzled veteran of five years, the man who taught Matsuo everything he knew, stood next to him, tapping his shoulder. "After assessment of the raid, in just the twenty minutes of fighting, we have nearly…" he glanced down towards a small piece of parchment that he gripped tightly, intensity radiating from his very being. "One hundred and eleven civilian casualties." His face twisted in a grimaced expression of grief and overwhelming, enveloping anger. "And another twenty guards lost. That's a twelfth of our population gone, in a single night."
Sarah, who sat next to him, winced at the number, her steel glove flying to cover her mouth as she heaved in place, a small tear forming in her eyes. Matsuo's expression fell solemn, and he dipped his head when he heard the number. It was barely a drop in the bucket compared to the billions of humans that found themselves stranded in this layer, yet each death felt like a failure, a failure to himself, to his people, to the memories he had created when he claimed this complex for himself.
The lord tests us… he thought, his fist clenching as he thought to himself, silently watching the chaos of the council before him.
"We have lost much today… but we will recover. The fifth wave has begun, and with it another billion people to introduce to the layers. It seems the death will not end with just this, Already, an incident involving a new group of awakened, claiming the lives of what's estimated to be another hundred occurred just yesterday, leaving a single survivor, who now rests here. It seems he made it through this terrible night, but this is a bad omen. Never have we seen such wanton death. This raid… was exponentially stronger than any we have seen before. Hundreds we could've handled without my presence, yet thousands attacked us." His voice was filled with concern, and the air shifted as the surrounding soldiers muttered prayers or curses under their breath.
"Something is changing within the second layer. As your leader, I will investigate the matter, but that may warrant a trip to the Skyscraper." His eyes darted towards each of the men and women that lined the table. A collective gasp emerged from the group, hushing after a brief moment. "However, I cannot leave this place without the threat of another raid of this capacity. We'll have to send word to the nearby Migrants group, and to nearby branches of SkyCorp. Put out requests for civilians and guardsmen and organize training of new recruits. We need soldiers more than ever, especially after the losses tonight." He pointed to a large piece of parchment that lay sprawled out towards the center of the table, a thick ink outlining the markings of a map, which covered the local area, showing large, detailed boxes that represented the neighboring complexes.
"We need to expand If we are to survive." He muttered, speaking softly to those around him.
"Sarah" he spoke her name with intensity, jolting her attention towards him. "I want you to send some scouts into the neighboring complexes. See if any new groups have moved in, and if no one's there, begin detailed mapping of their layouts." Several of the nearby complexes had many layers to them, like the Garden. While their home was huge, it could barely house over fifteen hundred people. If they wanted to expand, and rapidly, their smaller complex wouldn't do.
"Yes, sir!" She exclaimed, saluting him before sitting back down, her back straightening in her chair.
"I will remain here for the next few days, before beginning my journey to the inner campuses. Once I get to the Skyscraper, I'll talk to the Collective, see if they know anything about the disturbing change in intensity we've seen as of late." He rubbed his chin, playing with a few strands of hair, pulling them between his fingers.
"But sir!" Bernard exclaimed, his face distraught. "The teleporters were claimed by Strollo- err... Remus's lot, just a month ago. After the war… it's probably best not to trespass in their territory. I highly recommend we send a mess-"
"I'll have none of it, Bernard." Matsuo exclaimed, brushing away his dear mentor's remarks. "I need to go myself. Major Caldwell knows me well, and he'll give me the answers I need, if they have any at all." He shook his head, smiling softly. "I must do this, Bernard. You understand, surely?" He half asked, half ordered.
Bernard shook his head, closing his eyes tightly before opening them, a new firmness gleaming deep in his gaze. "Very well, Sir. I will do my best to ensure this place is perfect before your departure. He glanced up, as if gazing at the heavens through the ceiling, tensed with motivation.
"Good, then this emergency meeting is dismissed!" Matsuo said, clapping his hands together, and the twenty council members stood at once, filing out the small door at the corner of the room.
"Wait…" He said, his voice was considerably less firm as he lightly tapped Sarah's shoulder. She turned and glanced at him curiously, her eyes glistening with something he couldn't quite place.
"What is it, Sir?" she asked, tilting her head.
"That boy… Zander, was it?" He asked, getting a nod from her before continuing.
"Keep an eye on him. He's a promising one." He said, his mind aflutter with the thought of the near dozen buzzards, felled by the feeble man's sheer will. If he had the capacity to do so much, when still so weak…
He couldn't wait to see what sort of monster he'd become.