//Night 0 | Location: Nameless Forest - Clearing@OwO@AThousandCursesShun ceased her thoughts and became as beast.
Her legs shot her through the distance that separated her and the Long-Tailed, while her arms raised up to protect her most vital body parts: her head and her heart. The first injury she suffered had confirmed it: even with the element of surprise, the beast’s blade wasn’t able to slice through her bones. Her blood will clot. Her cuts will heal. All she had to do was
power through!
Flesh flayed from her body, a death by a thousand cuts. Shun pressed on regardless, pain the guide that told her she drew ever-closer. Her arms, battered and bleeding, remained in place to protect her eyes and her neck, elbows dipping low enough to cover her sides or stomach if necessary. So long as she could endure!
The beast, evidently, did
not cease its thoughts.
There were three monsters present, and their strategy of drawing out a portion of their prey’s fighting force was successful already. There was no need for suppressive fire anymore. And while one of the Ten-Eyed tangled with Rin, the other one gathered its energy once more.
Shun was fully-focused. She hadn’t realized, in time, that there was a reason the Long-Tailed allowed her to get so close.
One step to the side as she dropped low, and suddenly, the sinuous blade-bearer was out of sight, replaced by the brilliance of a fully-charged blast. Momentum was against her, her defense was open, her body too riddled with injury to respond. There was no dodging it now.
A beam struck her face-first. Like a baseball bat, swung right into her nose. Blood spiraled as she flew back, but before the Long-Tailed could follow through with a lethal or crippling injury, one that would take out her eyes or slice open her throat, a nearby explosion scattered the trio.
Rin.
Desperation lent to delusion as she hollowed herself out. In dilated time, she could feel herself peeling away, could feel something soldering wiring into her brain. It burned, seizing her mind with such psychic ferocity that her entire body responded in kind to the unnatural stimuli. Heart pounding, blood pulsing, eyes burning, skin sweating, stomach gurgling, fire forging.
Energy coursed out of her palms, piercing into her spear, and tearing it apart from inside out. She felt the splinters pierce her palm, pushed into her flesh by the ethereal substance that replaced it. It felt like grasping glass. Hard, yet fragile. Her mind seethed, the substance flickering, wavering. What was she trying to make? What was she trying to do? What
was a spear? The wooden thing that she carved? The pointy thing that she saw in documentaries? The slashing thing that the shrine maidens demonstrated from time to time? An arrow, elongated? A javelin, thrown by athletes?
She grasped at an image. She grasped at lightning.
And, with microseconds draining like trickling sand, she had no recourse but to thrust this misshapen construct into the orb.
As fragile as glass, as hard as glass, it shattered upon impact, an explosion that sent her flying back, an explosion that caused the Ten-Eyed to reel back, an explosion that warned the other two monsters of a new threat, an explosion birthed from inspiration.
An explosion that saw the two middle schoolers falling prone together.
An explosion. A peak beyond the gate of their limited possibilities.
@baraquiel@Yankee@Vertigo@Cu Chulainn@NakushitaChaos reigned on both ends.
By the skin of her teeth (or perhaps the skin of the hulkphant’s teeth), Ayana survived to see another day, the audible click of the monster’s jaw snapping over empty air lost to her. She recovered, an expert at bouncing back from the sheer insanity that was unfolding, and naturally followed through with another batshit idea afterwards.
A flying headbutt.
Well, certainly Ayana didn’t very much treasure the precious few braincells she had left rattling in her cranium.
Sprinting at maximum speed, the walking disaster leapt up and became as a spear, her cranium crashing into the hulk-phant’s chest. It was, on reflection a bit of a comfortable sensation, really. She struck its stomach, the soft tissue cradling her head in a way that must have made for the weirdest headpat ever. It even gave the monster itself some pause, the breath knocked out of it, its own advance towards the frailer prey stopped for the time being.
Then, it decided to drop down.
Splat went Ayana, as the full weight of an Asian elephant gave her the worst hug she had ever experienced.
Her madness, however, must have been infectious.
Asahi’s laughter sounded brightly, rattling out from his stomach as he bore the arms of a dead man. There were two hulk-phants occupied, one way or the other, by the students. It went to show then, that if
any of them were able to escape, the third one, the one stalking the perimeter, would have to be distracted.
So he walked, so calm that he felt glee.
Until the third hulk-phant turned, a mountain of flesh that could blot out the stars. It settled down, lower. Sinking its head to loom before the mad child. Fangs flashing in a sign of intimidation, of dominance. Six-eyes zeroed in to two blue.
Time dilating.
Intentions crystallizing.
Then, Asahi felt it. A weight settle on his shoulder. A
foot.
Kunio, airborne, stringy arms windmilling through the night air. The hulk-phant raised its head, but even with such superior strength and speed, surprise had lent an instance of a delay, and the boy landed on top. Asahi could see it now, what was clenched in the Badminton Ace’s fist, moments before it drove itself into one eye! Two eyes! Three!
The sharpened fang pulled from the corpse of a bearwolf, punching through delicate organs in a way that even Rin’s tools couldn’t!
The hulk-phant let out a howl, one paw sweeping upwards, but Kunio was already gone, his sense of danger causing him to stop only part way through before springing up and away.
“YOU CRAZY FUCK!”Was he referring to the hulk-phant, or Asahi?
Both, likely, but what was the price of an admonishment, compared to what had just happened? The hulk-phant was blinded on the left side. It was turning away, ready to pursue the scraggly thing that had so greviously injured it. And, rotating through the night, spinning like a toy, that fang-dagger fell.
As if meant for him to take.
Where fang carved flesh though, Kogen was faced with a different story.
His throw had been perfect. Even accounting for the weird balance of the spear (Rin was good with her hands, but not
that good), he could adjust. Humanity had reached their position on the top of the food chain through their intellect, and the first thing that their intellect gave them was not fire, not tools, but the power to throw things.
So throw he did.
And saw the spear bounce off.
The
barrier. That supernatural phenomenon that once again denied his attack! In the distant dark, he could hear the howling of the third hulk-phant. What had happened to it there? No time to linger on such thoughts; his landing, at least, was successful, seizing handfuls of coarse fur without problem. Little more than an annoying pest. But a pest was still a greater annoyance than the ant beneath it.
With a roar, the monster ceased its attempts to crush Masato flat, and instead flung him away. He flew well, skipped against the ditch before crumpling some distance away, his head ringing.
Distantly, he could feel someone pulling him up. Warm hands, callused hands. Tsubasa’s face before his, trying to find someone she recognized in that befuddled face of his. He could see around him now. Three hulk-phants were distracted; they could all evacuate. Hana, monitoring the situation. Maki, leaning against Daisuke. Yukiko, desperately trying to heave Yuki over her shoulders. Juro and Sohei, gripping wooden spears that had already proven their ineffectiveness, but unwilling still to part with the only wepaons they had.
Akito, lending a shoulder to Tsubaki, whose face was paler than Masato was accustomed to.
Whose right arm ended in a bloodied stump, the stench of fresh blood making her much to easy for any predator to track. But they couldn’t leave her. They couldn’t leave anyone.
Yet they still had to.
“Masato.” He knew Tsubasa was giving him an out. Whether out of kindness or out of practicality.
“We need you with us. Let’s go.”His back hurt.
Hurt, like how the straps of his bag dug into his shoulders.
Hurt, like how his spine protested against the weight he bore.
Books. So many books. Books on Japanese literature and history, on mathematics and biology, on exam prep and exam prep and exam prep. His responsibility to his future self. His responsibility to the family he still cared about. His responsibility as the Student Council President.
He could see Kogen, scrambling as the hulk-phant tried to shake him off.
He could see Asahi, teetering on the boundary line of sanity.
He couldn’t see Ayana, suffocating beneath the belly of the beast.
The forge burned, awaiting a hand brave enough to plunge into the flames to grasp the molten ore within. What was it though, that rested inside Masato?