"Then don’t get close!" Hikari yelled back, looking frustrated. Her flail was useless if she couldn’t reach the target. "Just... I don’t know, throw sothing at it!"
"It’s made of coral! It’ll just regenerate!"
I watched the Centurion’s pattern for two more swings, counting the seconds between each arc. There was a gap. A small one, maybe a second and a half where the anchor reached the end of its swing and reversed direction.
Not enough ti for a conventional attack. But I wasn’t planning on being conventional.
"Bubblegum!" I yelled, catching Skylar’s attention. She was crouched behind a fallen pillar, her face unreadable behind a curtain of wet hair. "Light it up!"
Her eyes widened for just a mont. Then understanding dawned, and that chaos-loving smirk returned.
"You’re insane," she said.
"Probably. Do it anyway."
Skylar took another deep breath and exhaled, pouring more Phantasm Smoke into the corridor. But this ti, she didn’t keep it low. The fog rose in a thick cloud, filling the space between us and the Centurion, obscuring everything in a wall of silvery mist.
The monster paused. Its anemone cluster pulsed erratically, confused by the sudden loss of visual contact. For three heartbeats, it stood frozen, the anchor swinging uncertainly.
Three heartbeats was more than enough.
I raised my hand, feeling the familiar rush of power as Thermal Incision activated. Heat gathered at my palm, concentrating into a point of intense energy. But instead of firing directly at the Centurion, I aid into Skylar’s smoke cloud.
The beam lanced forward, and the world turned white.
Skylar’s smoke refracted the thermal energy like a prism catching sunlight. The concentrated heat didn’t just pass through the cloud. It scattered. Multiplied. The entire corridor beca a blinding void of light that seared through the darkness like a miniature sun being born.
The Centurion reeled backward, its anemone cluster overloading from the sensory assault. The bioluminescent organs flared and then went dark, the creature suddenly blind and disoriented.
A shape materialized from the dying light.
Skylar moved like a shadow given form, her soaked combat suit glistening as she burst from the smoke at impossible speed. She hit the Centurion’s extended arm at a full sprint, using its own limb as a ramp. Her boots found purchase on coral and rusted iron, and she ran up the monster’s arm like it was a staircase.
The Centurion tried to shake her off, but it was still blind, still reeling from the flashbang. Its movents were sluggish, uncoordinated.
Skylar reached its shoulder in two seconds. Her knives were already in her hands, the matte black blades catching none of the ambient light. She didn’t hesitate. She drove both weapons into the gaps between the creature’s coral plates, finding the joints where ancient ship timber t living flesh.
The Centurion made a sound that might have been a scream if it had a mouth. Its anchor dropped from nerveless fingers, splashing into the water with a thunderous crash. The creature staggered, reached up with one massive hand to swat at the pest on its shoulder.
Too slow.
Skylar twisted her knives and ripped them free, taking chunks of the monster’s neck joint with them. Black ichor sprayed across her face, her chest, mixing with the water that already soaked her through.
She kicked off the Centurion’s shoulder, flipping backward through the air, and landed in a crouch ten feet away. The creature stood frozen for one long mont.
Then it collapsed, the coral making up its body crumbling as the animating force fled.
The team stared in silence. Even Raphael, who was constitutionally incapable of being impressed by anything, looked slightly awed.
Skylar straightened, flicking ichor from her blades with two sharp motions. Her wet hair clung to her face, her combat suit was ruined, and she was covered in monster blood.
She’d never looked more beautiful.
"That," she said, her voice carrying that familiar lazy drawl, "was actually kind of fun."
"You’re welco for the assist," I said, wading toward her. "The flashbang was my idea, rember?"
"I don’t recall needing help."
"The blind monster begs to differ."
Skylar snorted, but there was warmth in her eyes. The sa warmth I’d seen on the balcony, the sa warmth she tried so hard to hide behind her armor of sarcasm.
"We need to move," Isabelle said, ever the practical one. "That fight was loud. Everything in the wing knows we’re here now."
She was right. But I allowed myself one more mont to appreciate the scenery. Skylar, dripping wet and splattered with victory. Emi, helping Soomin to her feet, both of them looking like they’d survived a shipwreck. Natalia, watching with eyes that promised violence and sothing else, sothing hungrier.
Later, I told myself. Survive first. Be a degenerate later.
We pushed forward, leaving the Centurion’s corpse to dissolve in the rising water. The corridor widened into a larger chamber, and I pulled out my chronoter to check our ti.
We were fast. Faster than the simulation had predicted. At this pace, we’d reach the boss chamber with minutes to spare.
Then I saw it.
A glow ahead, filtering through the darkness. My first thought was more bioluminescence, more fungi or anemones or whatever other nightmare flora this dungeon had spawned.
But it was wrong. Too clean. Too organized.
That wasn’t monster light.
That was magic. Specifically, the distinct, pristine glow of Argent magic.
"Stop," I said, holding up a fist. The team halted behind , sensing my sudden tension.
Skylar appeared at my side, her eyes narrowing at the light ahead. "That’s not supposed to be here."
"No. It’s not."
The Argent Sentinels were in the west wing. We were in the east. There should have been no way for our paths to cross until we both reached the boss chamber.
Unless sothing had gone very, very wrong.
Or very, very right.
"Juan," I said quietly. "Tell that’s not what I think it is."
Juan waded forward, squinting at the glow. His face, usually slack with boredom, had gone sharp. Focused. The lazy genius was actually paying attention, which ant the situation was serious enough to overco his constitutional aversion to effort.
"It’s an ergency beacon," he said slowly. "Argent standard issue. They only activate automatically when..."
He trailed off.
"When what?" Emi asked, her voice tight.
Juan turned to look at , and for the first ti since I’d t him, there was no sarcasm in his expression.
"When soone on the team is about to die."
User Comments
0 comments from readers