Pyro stared at Don and Starboy, hovering just above the wrecked street, brows drawn tight. There was sothing off about them—about their faces. Not panic. Not shock.
Resolve.
"Guys, what’s up—" Pyro started.
He cut himself off mid-word before his head snapped right.
A vine tore out of the ground and ca at him low and fast, ripping through asphalt and dust in a straight line.
Pyro reacted on instinct, flas flaring as he twisted aside with room to spare. The vine missed him cleanly and smashed into the remains of a bus stop behind him—KRRAAASH~—tal folding like paper.
Easy.
Even Don, already scanning ahead and thinking three moves out, clocked it as a non-issue.
Then he saw the other one.
It was far. Too far. On the opposite side of the sprout’s bulk, half-hidden behind its massive body. At a glance, it looked inert—coiled, pressed tight against the ground like dozens of others.
But the angle was wrong.
Don’s gaze sharpened as his beastshift vision broke it down piece by piece. Compression along the midsection. Tension loaded unevenly. And next to it—
Another vine. Positioned not to strike.
But to hit.
His breath paused.
’No way.’
The conclusion slamd together in his head so fast he almost rejected it outright. Almost.
"Pyro!" Don shouted. "Duck—now! Toward us, move!"
Pyro turned back toward him, confusion flashing across his face just as Starboy kicked off the ground and shot upward in a blur of force.
"What next?" Starboy called down as he climbed.
Don didn’t look at him. His eyes were locked on the sprout.
"Fly straight to the top," Don said. "Dodge when I tell you."
The far vine jerked.
Not toward them.
Sideways.
It slamd into the one beside it with brutal force—transferring everything it had built up. The second vine snapped loose and whipped across the battlefield, scything through the space Pyro had occupied less than a second earlier.
The strike didn’t stop there.
It collided with another vine mid-swing—the one already rising to intercept Starboy—sending both off course in a violent tangle of mass and montum—WHAM~—their bodies smashing together and ripping a trench through the ruined street below.
Pyro dropped hard beside Don, boots skidding as he landed. He stared at the cratered stretch of road where he’d been hovering monts ago.
His throat bobbed.
"...Thanks, man," he muttered. "Shit."
Don didn’t even glance at him. He reached out and tapped Pyro’s shoulder once.
"Don’t thank yet."
The ground around them cracked open.
Hounds poured out.
They clawed their way up from the splits in the road, bodies dragging free of the earth in jerking motions. So still had torn limbs in their jaws—arms, chunks of torso—discarded without care the mont their attention snapped to Don and Pyro.
They charged as one.
Pyro turned toward them imdiately, flas rolling up his arms, heat distorting the air around his fists. "Alright—"
Don’s grip clamped down hard on his shoulder.
"Ignore them," Don said fast. "They’re bait."
Pyro looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
"What?"
"On two," Don continued, already counting them off in his head. "Fly up toward the top of the sprout. Burn as hot as you can. Dodge when I tell you. Stay at least fifty ters away from Starboy."
Pyro’s face twisted. "Why?"
Don didn’t answer.
"One."
Pyro let out a breath and began to rise anyway, flas intensifying as he hovered higher. "Fuck this better work," he muttered. "I’m almost spent."
"We all are," Don said. Before adding—
"Two."
"On it," Pyro snapped—and launched.
Fire roared around him as he shot upward, heat building fast enough that the air warped around his body. Below, the hounds snapped and leapt uselessly as he cleared them in a blink.
Above him, Starboy was already weaving.
Vines struck from multiple angles at once—downward, lateral, from behind—forcing him to burn speed just to stay ahead of the converging arcs. He dodged one, then another, then barely cleared a third that shaved past his shoulder and ripped a chunk out of the remains of nearby building.
The advantage he’d had was bleeding out fast.
anwhile, Don broke into a sprint.
He charged straight toward the sprout at ground level, boots pounding through debris and fractured pavent. He never took his eyes off Starboy.
The hounds tried to intercept him.
They failed.
Don didn’t look at them. He didn’t need to. His body shifted on instinct alone—leaning, sidestepping, vaulting broken barriers as claws tore through empty space behind him.
His speed left them scrambling, crashing into each other, skidding across rubble as he vanished past ruined corners.
Two seconds.
That was all it took.
Two vines adjusted.
Not toward Pyro.
Toward each other.
Don saw the pattern snap into place just as Starboy crossed the halfway point of the sprout’s height.
"Starboy!" Don yelled, elbow driving back into a hound that had thought it could flank him—CRACK~—the creature folding and tumbling away. "Stop—duck—then burst up once a vine passes!"
Starboy reacted instantly and forced himself to stop.
Every instinct told him to keep moving, to push higher before the pattern closed again, but Don’s voice cut through all the noise with enough authority to override reflex.
Starboy killed his forward burst and dropped his center of mass instead, arms pulling in as he tucked hard.
A vine tore through the space just above him an instant later.
It missed by ters—but only because he’d stopped.
The thing passed with a violent rush of displaced air, its bulk ripping through smoke before smashing into a half-standing tower behind him—BOOOOM~—concrete and steel folding inward as the structure collapsed in on itself.
Starboy’s eyes widened despite himself.
"...Okay," he muttered.
Nothing else ca.
No follow-up strike. No second warning from Don.
He didn’t wait for one.
Starboy burst upward again, legs driving, power flaring as he rocketed past the danger zone—
—and three massive vines slamd together ahead of him.
Not accidentally.
They converged at the point he would’ve occupied if he hadn’t stopped—their bodies colliding and grinding against one another as they snapped and recoiled, tearing chunks free from each other in the process.
Starboy shot through the gap beneath them before the ss could settle, the air detonating behind him as he accelerated away.
Below, the sprout shifted.
The vines anchored lower along its bulk stopped tracking Starboy entirely.
They turned.
Pyro saw it happen.
He was mid-climb, flas roaring around him as he angled upward, when the mass below shifted with awful intent. The vines peeled off their previous paths and reoriented, bodies flexing and drawing tight as they lined up on him instead.
"Oh—uh, hey, Don?" Pyro called out, voice pitched high as he twisted to avoid the first probing strike. "What now?"
"Wait!" Don shouted back.
Pyro didn’t like that answer.
Below, the hounds kept pouring in. They sward Don from every crack and alley, snapping and leaping, bodies slamming into one another as they tried to overwhelm him by sheer number. They couldn’t catch him—not yet—but Pyro could see the pattern tightening.
"Shit," Pyro yelled, glancing down. "Hey man, do you need help?!"
"No!" Don replied back, firm and serious. "Keep your eyes forward!"
Pyro flinched—but obeyed.
He turned back just as another vine cracked through the air toward him—missing by a breath as he surged upward. Another followed. Then another. They didn’t strike all at once. They paced him. Herded him.
His jaw clenched.
His heart hamred so hard it hurt.
Don watched for one more second.
Long enough that Pyro felt it coming.
Then—
"Pyro!" Don shouted. "Fire a ball—compress it as much as you can. Hit the vines head-on. Once it connects, fly outward past the ones above you, then dive back in and keep climbing. Fast!"
No explanation.
No room for questions.
Pyro sucked in a breath and brought his hands together as he flew, flas folding inward as he forced them tight. The heat climbed instantly, pressure building between his palms until his arms shook with the effort.
"C’mon... c’mon..."
He released.
A fireball tore free and slamd down into the oncoming vines from above—BOOOOM~—the blast ripping across their surfaces and forcing them into each other. They writhed and crashed together, bodies tangling as they fought to reorient, still reaching for Pyro even as the impact disrupted their timing.
Pyro didn’t hesitate.
He veered outward instead of threading the gap.
The vines below snapped up at him, whipping close enough that the heat from his flas scorched their surfaces—but he was already diving back inward, folding his path tight and climbing again.
They missed.
Worse—they lost montum.
Pyro shot past them, chest burning, lungs endruing as he forced more heat into his ascent. Above him, Starboy kept climbing. Below him, the bulk of the vines now chased both of them.
That left the base exposed.
And so Don went for it at full speed.
The ground beneath the sprout was a nightmare—piles of bodies stacked beneath its bulk, human and hound alike, torn apart and half-consud.
A massive hollow vine pulsed at the center, sucking in anything not actively being devoured, dragging the remains upward into the structure with wet, grinding sounds.
There was nowhere to land after he leaped into the air.
So Don didn’t.
He dove.
Straight down, fist drawn back—not aid at the swarm, not at the bodies, not at the ground—
—but at one massive leg.
He saw a weakness instantly. A structural compression point where multiple growths braided together. A joint pretending not to be one.
Don hit it.
His fist connected—and he detonated the force behind it in the sa motion—BOOOOOM~.
The impact tore through the leg’s outer layers, the blast ripping a huge section free and nearly severing it from the rest of the sprout.
The structure lurched, the damaged limb buckling as chunks of mass sheared off and slamd into the ground below—CRASH~—sending bodies and debris flying outward in all directions.
User Comments
0 comments from readers