"We actually did it!"
Jasmine and Baraka stood over the empty space where the Emperor had dissolved, their chests heaving from exertion. Victory should have felt sweet. Instead, the silence that followed felt... quite sober.
"We actually did," Barake panted, repeating his words as he wiped the Emperor’s dark blood from his knuckles.
"W-we did. You were right, we did—"
Her words died, however, when she turned to look at Adam.
The creep hung motionless in the air from her spear, the sharpened wood punched clean through his gut. Blood dripped steadily from the wound, pooling in the sand below. His head lolled forward, eyes closed, arms hanging limp at his sides.
"Is he dead?" Jasmine asked, her remaining hand pressed against her severed wrist.
Baraka approached the suspended figure, studying Adam’s face for signs of life. No breath. No movent. Just the steady drip of blood.
"Looks like it." He said, and then his eyes slowly gazed down toward the Shion, still gripped in Adam’s lifeless fingers. "Might as well take this. Kid won’t be needing it anymore."
He wrapped his massive hand around the weapon’s hilt and pulled.
...But Adam wasn’t letting it go.
Baraka frowned, applying more force. The sword didn’t budge. Adam’s fingers remained locked around the grip.
"What the hell?" Baraka tugged harder. "Let go, you little—"
"There’s no ti for that! And have so respect for the dead." Jasmine snapped. "We need to get back to the fight. The Emperor’s joining us now, and we need to take this chance to fucking win this Ga! This’ll be an epic coback, it’s my chance to get noticed by so agencies!"
"Fine." Baraka released the sword with a grunt of frustration.
The two Heroes sprinted away across the sand, their forms quickly disappearing, leaving Adam hung alone in the silence.
Useless. Fucking useless. All of it. Every single death. Every child you killed. Every person you cut down. For nothing. For absolutely nothing.
You failed. Again. Just like always. Just like with Grace. Just like with Samantha. You couldn’t save them then, and you can’t save anyone now. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless. You’re not a hero. You’re not even human.
You’re just a broken thing that won’t stay dead.
They were right to experint on you. Right to cage you. Right to treat you like the monster you are. You are a monster. Look at yourself. Hanging here like at. Bleeding out like the animal you’ve always been.
You deserve this. You deserve worse than this.
You deserve to—
The voice stopped. Everything stopped.
Adam’s eyes snapped open, clear and empty. No rage. No despair. No emotion at all. Just... coldness.
He was still alive. Still breathing. Still bleeding.
Still failing.
Adam gripped the root spear with one hand, feeling the rough bark bite into his palms. The wood was thick as his torso, driven deep through muscle and bone. His regeneration had already begun working around the wound, trying to heal while the foreign object remained lodged inside him.
Still... he pulled.
The sound was wet, obscene. Flesh tore as he dragged himself forward along the spear. Blood gushed from the widening wound, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
His ribs scraped against the wood. His spine bent. An organ was ruptured, drowning his insides.
Still, he pulled.
And finally, with a sound like tearing canvas, he slid free.
Adam collapsed to his knees in the sand, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his torso. He could see through himself—the lowering day streaming through the wound where his organs should be.
But his eyes remained empty. Distant. Like he was watching soone else’s body fall apart.
The hole began to close. Slowly at first, then instantly. Muscle fibers knitted together. Bone reford. Skin stretched across the gap until only a faint scar remained.
Adam stood, retrieved the Shion, and began walking toward the Middle Crystal...
...never changing the look on his face.
***
Sowhere across the battlefield, Carn hovered high above the desert, her crimson wings beating lazily as she watched the chaos below. In her arms, she held a Red creep by the throat.
"P-please," the man gasped, his legs kicking uselessly in the air. "I didn’t do anything. I just want to go ho."
Carn tilted her head, both of her eyes were back now after being spawned back. "Yeah? Well, tough shit, boy. We all lost people. Welco to the Ga."
And then, she released him.
The man scread away as he plumted toward the sand. Carn didn’t watch him land. She’d already turned her attention to the massive figure battling near the Red team’s Right Middle Crystal.
The Emperor’s blade carved through the Creeps, while at the sa ti fighting Heroes... while also destroying the Crystal. Even outnumbered, it was still able to fight—but its health slowly withered away.
[Health: 87%]
"Co on, you beautiful bastard!" Carn scread, diving down to attack a Hero that was lunging toward the Emperor. She didn’t fight, however, and only threw the Hero away—she wanted to fight everyone, but her goal right now was to disrupt the Red team’s flow.
"Go!" Carn glared at the Emperor, and a small grin crept on her face as the Emperor drove its blade through the Red team’s crystal.
And then, with the crack of webs deepening...
[The Red Team’s Right Middle Crystal has been destroyed! Wow, continue this streak and advance!]
"Yes!" Carn pumped her fist in the air, her wings flaring with excitent. "Fucking finally! Now we just need to go straight through these motherfuckers and—"
[Oh no! Your team’s Middle Middle Crystal has been destroyed!]
"What the fuck?! That’s impossible. That old woman’s supposed to be guarding that crystal. Fuck! Can’t even do anything right! What the fuck is happening there?! I...
...I thought we had all the enemy Heroes covered?!"
***
Back at their Middle Middle Crystal... Quaneesha stood frozen. Her afro was still sparking, and the sll of sothing burnt lingered in the air.
And at her feet, a chunk of the Crystal she was supposed to protect, its light fading away.
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