Both the priest, made entirely of water, and I stood motionless, staring at each other in tense silence. Neither of us made a move, as if a single gesture could trigger sothing irreversible. The tension in the air was almost palpable.
I could clearly feel that he was on the defensive — his liquid body shimring slightly, as if hesitating between attacking or retreating. In other words, he was afraid of . And, for so reason, this realization began to unsettle . For the first ti, I felt like I was the villain in this story.
"Should we shoot?" asked one of the response team mbers behind , tension evident in their voice.
Everyone was positioned in strategic spots, covered by shields, their weapons firmly held and aid directly at the giant water priest.
But I had no idea how effective those weapons would be against a being made entirely of liquid. Still, if they caused any kind of discomfort, that might be enough.
Anyway, since the giant priest wasn’t showing any intention to move, I decided to take the initiative. With that thought in mind, I stepped forward slowly, each footfall echoing in the tense mont.
However, to my surprise, instead of remaining still or reacting hostilely, the giant priest retreated just as much. I frowned and tilted my head slightly, confused by the unexpected response.
For so reason, I had a strong feeling that he wasn’t going to attack. Instead, he would simply turn around and flee. However, that was impossible. Besides the door we entered through, this place didn’t seem to have any other entrances or exits. The concrete walls were solid, with no cracks or hidden passages. In other words, he was completely cornered.
***
(POV - ???)
Since he "erged" for the first ti, he always knew he had power. No other being dared to approach his parents; he always had the feeling he could do whatever he wanted, be whatever he wanted, conquer everything within his reach.
The confidence he exuded made him believe he was above any obstacle. However, he was about to discover how wrong he was, and it all began when he appeared in that strange place, where nothing seed familiar.
At first, he found himself in sothing filthy, a chaotic and desolate place. Other beings road there, weak creatures he could exterminate the mont he wished, effortlessly.
So, he decided to make this new environnt his empire, slowly expanding his dominion until he achieved total conquest. But then, sothing invaded his territory, his ho, his kingdom. It was small, slow, and weak, much like the other beings of this world, called humans. But, contrary to what he thought, this being was not like the others.
It was worse. Definitely the worst of all. The being spent its last monts of life, imrsed in a whirlwind of desperate questions: Why was it there? How could sothing so insignificant exist in that place? How could sothing so grotesque have reached him?.
For the first ti, the being felt fear, a strange and unsettling sensation that took over completely. He thought that if he remained still, the terrifying thing, disguised in the skin of fragile humans, would simply ignore him and leave.
However, to his surprise, that’s not what happened. On the contrary, the creature seed to recognize him, its penetrating eyes reflecting a dark understanding. It knew exactly who he was, and what he was.
Slowly, with threatening confidence, it began walking toward him, each step heavier than the last, as if it knew the mont of confrontation had co.
The being thought about fighting, but would that be wise? Was there anything to be done? What would it an to fight in a battle already lost? The being didn’t know, as he had never felt this way, vulnerable, terrified, defenseless... No, he had felt sothing similar before, but he wanted to forget.
It was at the exact mont the mory resurfaced — the mory he could never erase — that the being was overwheld by a storm of sensations. What he saw, in that brief instant, was indescribable... It was hard to find words for what he witnessed, and, until now, he hadn’t dared to try. What remained was the void, and the fear of reliving that mont.
Although different, the being once again felt that pressure, but now, coming from the monster in front of him, who resembled a human. He knew there was no way to win.
The idea of victory was an illusion, a defeat already set from the beginning. With that thought, the being made his decision. With a precise movent, he controlled his water golem, giving it form and agility.
Turning quickly, the being began to run, not caring where, only knowing he needed to flee from the human-shaped monster approaching relentlessly.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
I could say I had countless detailed images in my mind of how the situation would unfold, thousands of them, to be honest. However, in none of those wildest images could I have predicted that the next action of the water priest would be to simply turn around and start running, as if an invisible monster was right behind him.
That scene made wonder: is this what it feels like to be chased by a bear? Although the roles were strangely reversed, because, in this situation, I suddenly realized I had, sohow, beco the bear.
However, it didn’t make sense for him to run; there was nothing behind him... or at least, there hadn’t been monts ago. Suddenly, as soon as the water priest turned, a water-ford portal appeared in front of him.
I blinked, surprised by the situation, as I watched the giant water figure pass through the portal. He started running, his enormous figure moving rapidly.
On the other side, the flower-filled field we had seen when we were still outside stretched out, visible through the shimring opening. The water priest was running with an unusual urgency, as if his very life depended on this hurried movent.
"What the hell? Is this really happening?" comnted one of the reaction team mbers, their voice full of doubt: "The anomaly just ran?" He seed shocked and confused, his eyes wide as he tried to process what he had just seen.
In the end, I had no choice but to chase after the water priest. I noticed the team mbers glancing at each other, confused, for a brief mont, as if trying to figure out what was happening.
After a few seconds of hesitation, they nodded to themselves, and with serious expressions, they began to run after , ard and ready for anything. Now, the next scene, no doubt, was sothing you wouldn’t see on an ordinary day.
A young child, looking about 10 years old, was running ahead of a group of ard adults, all desperately chasing after her. They were pursuing a water statue that took the form of a priest, with clothes and features resembling a priest from ancient tis.
The scene, chaotic and absurd, had a comical quality; I couldn’t help but smile as I imagined it. The situation itself, with the child leading the run and the ard adults trailing behind her, was at the very least hilarious.
Of course, I wouldn’t take this little ga too far. As I ran, darkness began to emanate from my body, engulfing everything around as if it were consuming the very light.
In the next instant, a gigantic hand made of dark mist suddenly appeared behind and lunged toward the colossal priest. He had no ti to react. The hand grabbed his legs with an unexpected force, sending him crashing to the ground.
To be honest, I thought the hand would just pass through him, since he was made of water, but to my surprise, he seed strangely solid, almost as if he had turned into an impenetrable rock.
Either way, this brought closer to the priest—or rather, to the book he was holding. The priest quickly recovered from the fall, and as soon as he noticed my approach, he raised his arm.
In a swift motion, he swung it down toward with all his might. I, however, stayed still, simply observing the situation. I didn’t need to move, as I knew his arm would stop before hitting .
As I expected, once his arm crossed the boundary of my golden field, my only reaction was to take a slow step back from his strike. In the next mont, his arm was severed and fell to the ground, but there was nothing else there—just the echo of the motion.
I glanced at the priest’s hand, still extended in the air, before shifting my gaze to the book he carried, examining every detail of its cover. anwhile, the mbers behind began to argue, their voices muffled by the growing tension in the air.
"I don’t even know what the hell is going on here" one of the mbers remarked, his face marked with confusion: "We should be the good guys in this situation, but it feels like we’re acting like villains" The uncertainty in his voice was clear, as if the line between right and wrong had warped before his eyes.
"Does this even matter? Didn’t she just teleport? She was right there, under his arm, and then suddenly she was gone—she just vanished. It doesn’t make sense!" another mber comnted, with an expression of surprise that seed to overshadow his confusion.
I briefly turned my head back, casting a fleeting glance in their direction, though, in reality, I was already watching them without needing to move, as if sothing in my gaze was already fixed on them.
Still, the priest’s water-ford attack didn’t lessen in intensity. In the next mont, his arm, which had fallen to the ground near , moved swiftly and forcefully, advancing toward .
But I didn’t even budge. Instead, a shield of dark mist appeared beside , rising with firmness and intercepting the attack with precision.
Turning my attention forward again, I observed the movents of the giant water priest. At that mont, his gaze—if you could call it that—turned toward .
It was a strange sensation, as he didn’t seem to have actual eyes, just a presence directed at . Regardless, with his legs blocked, he had no way to escape. Or so I thought.
But, to my surprise, his hand detached from his body and moved swiftly, carrying the book with an unexpected force.
Honestly, I was tired of being chasing. With that single thought, another hand erged from the ground and firmly gripped the water arm.
The shadowy hand began to slowly retreat, pulling the watery arm—and the book—toward . When the book was finally before , I stared at it, feeling a subtle tension in the air.
The book didn’t react. I wasn’t sure if it couldn’t or for so other reason, but either way, it remained still. However, sothing in sensed that, despite its inactivity, the book was filled with a subtle fear—a feeling of dread I could perceive, even without words or gestures. But honestly, it wasn’t sothing I cared about.
With a sharp motion of my arm, I punched the book hard. My fist tore through its pages, creating a clear hole in the paper.
In the next mont, the familiar orb appeared above my head, its pulsating light filling the scene as it began to suck the colors from the book, as if it wanted to devour its essence.
I simply watched impassively as my eyes slowly returned to their normal color, unhurried, as if the whole spectacle was just another routine.
The reaction team mbers behind , including Rupert, just stared at the scene, their gazes marked by a mix of confusion and hesitation.
I imagine the scene of the orb floating above my head, sucking the colors from the book, isn’t visible to them, so they probably think I just punched the book. Well, I don’t need to get into the details with them, right? Anyway, the goal was achieved, and that’s what matters.
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