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UE Rewrite: B4 — 17. Ticking Clock
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 22:56:06 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Ash (Our Horseman of Death!)
2. Garu (Our Ethereal Scout!)
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Cloak billowing around him in the swirling mists, Ash stood beside his empress as the clatter of bones, flesh, and metal scraped across the damp cave floor. His skeletal frame shrouded in the folds of his hood, a small crown rimming his skull in the faint aura of green fire that illuminated the endless waves of undead pouring from his elongated shadow.
Some were little more than brittle skeletons, their sunken, burning eye sockets fixed on their target with a mindless hunger. Others bore the worn armor of the Clanless ri’bot, scavenged from the northeastern mountain fortress—shields dented, weapons dulled but functional. Among them, the pale forms of humans joined the fray, sailors and soldiers from the Kaspir Kingdom who had drowned at sea and joined his rank, their sodden remains pulled from the abyss to serve.
Death stood tall, his horse an ashen presence of doom opposite him, guarding their mistress. Elinor’s calm, calculated words put a shiver through his soul, every baited syllable drawing Varnak in. Confidence unwavering. Her low whispers, mixing with the swirling mist like slow piano chords, tapped to each quake that ran down the Elder Chief’s spine.
Her presence, demanding attention. Her unnatural cadence of death, a haunting ax over Varnak’s throat. Her perceived immortality, a mysterious bone-chilling reality to confront.
Elinor’s chin lifted with a small, mocking smirk, her voice like silk as chains locking his soul snapped. [Minion Break II] activated. A rising tide of undead crawled out of the darkness within him, their emerald light casting a glow across the fog.
“The battle has only just begun… You should pace yourself, Elder Chief. I wouldn’t want you burning out too quickly.”
Varnak’s muscles tensed, pupils constricting, still filled with drunken power as their empress retreated into her Soul Sanctum, leaving the battle to them.
Ash took the reins of the battle, mind turning.Varnak moved with impossible grace, his rejuvenated form cutting through the mass of undead with a precision that bordered on artistry. Each sweep of his silk threads dismembered and decimated, like a steel wire blender, leaving a trail of severed bones and a mist of Death Energy exploding in his wake.
Garu and the thélméthra drone prepared to engage, the fog coiling tighter around them.
“General—”
Hold…
Confusion shot through the Nexus, the pair hesitating but following his command as Ash brought up his sickles, crossing in front of his chest. The whirlwind of death pressed closer. The shadows underneath Ash grew longer, forming behind them.
“In the emerald twilight, Irkalla releases Her dead…”
A haunting pulse rippled through space, Varnak immediately leaping back into the blinding fog, the tide turning as something unseen rattled—chains.
Links snapping one after another. Stillness erupted. The wall of dead before them filled the void with chattering teeth, echoing through the tunnels. The scratching of bone on stone followed. The thud of the dead’s feet pounding in unison with the rising choir.
Ash slowly extended his sickles to either side, a thin jade-green line tracing their movements. He flicked it in a single circle, brought them high, and cut down the center.
No more dead rose from Ash’s extended cloak. Now, a rumble shook the cavern. And every last body Ash had snatched since being resurrected quivered at the call: jungle beasts, Kaspir’s forgotten souls, and every ri’bot Clanless he’d absorbed surged forth. A flood of corpses unlike anything he’d released before… Every last body.
Ash’s words, barely above a whisper, touched every ear. ““And I looked, and beheld a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death…and Hell followed with him.”
[Gates of the Damned: Opened]
Colossal black doors rippled into being, touching the large cavern’s floor and ceiling as if ethereal, blocking them from view. Chattering teeth, scraping bone, and stomping feet ceased. An eerie silence ensued. The gate cracked open. The billowing of charged energy swept away the mist. And then…the screams started. The cries of the damned echoing from wall to wall.
“The way is open.”
Varnak’s laugh rippled through the chamber, a twisted melody of arrogance and exhilaration. He stood tall amidst the emerald haze, his silk threads weaving a barrier that seemed alive, shimmering with the essence of his newfound vitality.
“Yes, Empress! Yes! You think shadows and whispers frighten me? I will unravel every thread of your twisted game! Yes, release the Pits! Crown my legacy as the one who conquered Death itself!”
Ash’s hollow sockets burned brighter, his sickles raised as the echoes of the damned rose into a cataclysmic resonance, surging forward to push the Elder Chief further into the tunnel.
From the colossal gates, the horde surged forth, an endless tide of corpses cascading into the cavern like a living wave. Jungle beasts with rotted hides snarled as they leapt at Varnak, their claws glinting in the green light. Kaspir sailors, their bloated forms dripping with saltwater, swung enhanced blades, found along the sea floor with chilling precision. Clanless ri’bot, armored in scraps of their former lives, hurled themselves at the Elder Chief, their broken bodies a testament to Ash’s unrelenting command.
The clash was deafening.
He sent the unintelligent thélméthra drone scuttling forward, its severed limbs already sealed by silk, its movements fluid despite the damage. Yet, he withheld the rest, vision turning away from the fight to their inactive empress.
The flood is only a distraction. The Empress commanded us to buy her ten minutes. This should give us the majority of that. How close are you, Camellia?
“With the Empress’ enhancement, seven or eight minutes. Several tunnels collapsed during my fight that I must burrow through.”
Enough time then… When all of my minions are spent. You two will engage him together, he ordered, locking eyes with Garu and the intelligent drone. What is your opinion on the mist, Camellia?
The arachnid woman’s voice was far more grim than he would have liked. “It doesn’t matter to us. Well, if he were in total control of his abilities but I can tell he is not. Every generation, Mother is able to adapt new, more powerful attributes into her daughters. Typically, the last child will be the dominant. If that is the case…he has potent skills he has not yet understood how to utilize.”
I can see that, Death muttered, watching the battle through the horde he’d released. However, he was adapted to her in egg form, if I understand it correctly since there would be no way they could extract anything from her while hatched. Doesn’t that developmental stage mean something? He can’t be as powerful as a fully formed princess of your species. He hasn’t adapted totally to the blindness of the mist.
Varnak moved like a phantom, his body a blur of motion as his threads lashed out, cleaving through flesh and bone with surgical precision. He didn’t even attempt to hide his presence, as he’d done against Garu. The mist of Death Energy that exploded with each strike did nothing to slow him. He twirled his threads, turning the horde into ribbons, their bodies piling at his feet in grotesque heaps.
“If that is the case, it is more an issue with his limited brain. We feel the atmosphere as if it were our nerves. Our perception is beyond your ability to comprehend, which the Empress experienced when channeling a mere drone… I feel him adapting.”
Flames flickering in his sockets, his gaunt, skull-like mouth pulled into a grim smile. Then let him adapt. We will save the mist for after the flood. Even if it delays his strike by a fraction of a second, it is worth it. Until then…all we can do is wait.
* — * — *
Garu crouched low against the cavern wall, the emerald haze and sporadic fire swirling around him, its glow casting eerie shadows that danced and flickered across the jagged stone. His hands clenched and unclenched, the cool sweat of his undead body mixing with the faint mist that clung to the air—an ability of his more than his previous natural glands.
Time passed slower than a sluggish river, each minute marked by the relentless flood of undead crashing against Varnak’s spinning threads and stolen blades.
The cavern floor was littered with the remains of Ash’s horde—splintered bones, twisted metal, and the black ichor of corpses pooling in thick, viscous puddles. Every wave sent through the Gates of the Damned was annihilated as Varnak danced among them, a blur of sharpened precision, his threads cutting through the tide like razors through paper.
[7:00 Minutes Remaining]
He’s playing with them… Testing their limits.
Garu’s ruby irises tracked every movement, noting the subtle changes in Varnak’s form. The Elder Chief’s rejuvenated skin now shimmered faintly under the green light, a sheen that hadn’t been there minutes ago. His threads no longer snapped at random but sliced in calculated arcs, thinning the horde with cruel efficiency.
Jaw tightening, frustration boiling beneath his controlled exterior, he cursed his weakness. He’s on par with Ethereal First Rank Xaria as it is, and he hasn’t even reached a fraction of his potential. Can I ever reach those heights? I shouldn’t need to. I’m a scout. But…it’s frustrating.
His hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his dagger, the ancestral weapon humming faintly with the energy coursing through it that responded to his wrist movements.
But…I’m not ri’bot anymore. Am I? He certainly isn’t.
The thought lingered. His body, though still familiar, no longer felt the same after all the upgrades he’d received, especially with [Minion Break] pushing him into the Rare category.
The mist he could summon—his once-signature ability as an Ethereal Scout—had dissipated into the emerald haze, replaced by a force he barely understood. The Empress’ power.
That twist of his body…the unnatural bend of his torso. No, he’s changing.
The Elder Chief moved with unnatural fluidity, his strikes precise and devastating. This wasn’t the old, frail leader he’d read at the start. This wasn’t a ri’bot at all. Garu’s gut twisted as Varnak’s head twisted to look right at him—they didn’t have maneuverable necks—his lips peeling back to show diamond-like fangs as he bit into one of the corpses, ripping it to pieces. His laughter filled the cavern, deep and vibrating—he vanished.
A flash of silver caught Garu’s eye. Instinct took over, his body twisting as a dagger, stolen from the dead, embedded itself into the wall beside his head. The blade sank deep into the stone, a testament to the force behind it.
Close… And he’s only playing around, lost in his own expanding perception of everything. We must all look like insects to him… Is this what Camellia sees? The difference in strength of the Royal Court?
Varnak’s laughter echoed through the chamber, filled with manic glee. “Your reflexes are sharp, boy! But are they sharp enough to keep your head attached when the next strikes?”
Garu’s throat bulged slightly, his breath steady as he pushed down the rising frustration and doubt. Every second counted down like droplets of water in a still pool of water. His form only grew more twisted. More lethal.
He’s turned into a monster.
Skin once supple and smooth, now hardened with a faint sheen of reflective carapace. His movements grew faster, each twitch becoming less natural, too fast.
[6:00 Minutes Remaining]
Garu scanned the battlefield. The emerald haze thickened, obscuring details but failing to slow Varnak. Standing at the mouth of the tunnel to the princess’ nest, guarding Jennifer’s escape. The Elder Chief was relentless, cutting through the next wave of Kaspir seamen.
“Garu,” the intelligent thélméthra drone hissed, its voice shockingly soft in the Nexus. “Prioritize avoiding the threads. They’re thinning, becoming harder to see. I feel them expanding along the floor and ceiling.”
He grunted in response, dodging another whip-like strike from Varnak’s silk that sliced cleanly into the wall behind him. I don’t need to see them, Garu muttered, his eyes narrowing. I can feel the shifts in the mist… He’s toying with us.
The thélméthra didn’t respond, its focus on sending live reports to Camellia regarding his adaptations.
Another change put a shiver through Garu’s soul. Two lumps of flesh pulsed on Varnak’s back, swelling grotesquely before splitting open. From the raw, glistening wounds, two new arms emerged, their skeletal structure hardening into sleek, spear-like points. Below his normal limbs, two more began to sprout, their movements unnervingly smooth and synchronized.
He’s not even a ri’bot anymore, Garu grimly thought. He’s not a thélméthra. This was who they worshiped… This is what they aimed to become.
[5:00 Minutes Remaining]
The flood of undead continued to pour from the Gates of the Damned, their relentless tide somehow pressing Varnak deeper into the tunnel. But instead of slowing, the Elder Chief seemed to draw energy from the chaos, his strikes growing more ferocious, his laughter more unhinged.
The air itself vibrated with his growing presence, the eerie pulses of predatory heat rippling through the atmosphere. Garu simply watched. He exercised his newly gained senses under [Minion Break]. He learned through every action Varnak took.
Yet, even in his heightened state, Garu noticed something beneath the surface—a flicker of instability, a hint of the toll his transformation was taking.
He’s burning through his energy faster than he realizes… His transformation is slowing down. Are these new additions harder to develop…or is he simply reaching the end?
The thélméthra hissed again, its bright, gem-like eyes gleaming in the dark. “If we don’t act soon, there will not be anything left to fight with, General. Your undead grow smaller.”
Ash’s steady voice didn’t falter. “That’s the point. Prepare to engage. He’s only been able to act on instinct until now. By rushing him, we’ve seen the limits of his natural skills and burned more of his energy. This is the last wave.”
Camellia cut in like a sword, her tone sharp and eager. “I’m nearly there. Hold him just a little longer.”
Ready, Garu muttered, rolling around his shoulders. Extending my mist.
Varnak’s body pulsated with an unsettling rhythm. New eyes opened across his frame—on his shoulders, his abdomen, even the crown of his skull. They glowed faintly, shifting independently as if scanning every angle of attack, his form lengthening, becoming more spindly.
The next wave of undead surged forward, their screams mingling with the hiss of silk and the sharp snap of bone. Garu watched, his heart pounding in his chest. Each second feeling like an eternity. The minutes stretched on, each one marked by the relentless clash of death and the growing tension in the air.
[4:00 Minutes Remaining]
The mist coiled tighter around Garu’s form, twisting with the emerald haze like twin serpents in a dance of tension. The cavern floor, layered thick with dismembered corpses, gave off a stench that clawed at his senses—bloated humans leaking bile into the pooling ichor. Every step squelched, his toes finding purchase on slick stone as his sharpened eyes tracked Varnak.
The Elder Chief now stood upside down on the ceiling, his spindly frame pressed against the stone as if gravity were a mere suggestion. His newly grown eyes swiveled independently, taking in every angle, the glow casting a nightmarish shimmer over his flesh, like shifting silk. His laugh rolled through the cavern, deep and resonant.
“Still scurrying, boy? Does the fog empower you, or do you simply cower beneath it?” The monster’s words dripped with venom, his form twitching as his threads began to writhe like living tendrils. “You think to best me, Ethereal? Look around. Your army is nothing but scraps—hundreds, slaughtered to return to the Pits!”
The thélméthra drone hissed beside Garu, its legs tense as it prepared to lunge. “General, I will take the frontal assault. His webbing has spread across the entire cavern—most of it hidden above. I can cut a path. Captain, strike when he falters.”
Garu nodded, realizing that, right now, he was a Captain. His focus narrowed to the predator above them. The mist around him thickened, stretching to weave into the haze, its movements subtle but deliberate as it sought out the threads.
“Let him play and waste time,” Ash whispered. “He’s adapting faster than I expected and not showing signs of slowing. I believe he’s found his rhythm. But that will only heighten his pride. Don’t go for the kill. We are ordered to buy time, not end him.”
The drone darted forward, its sleek form a blur of speed as it closed the distance. Silk threads erupted from Varnak’s spear-like arms, lashing out in jagged arcs. The drone dodged with unnatural precision, seemingly shocking the unnatural creature as it sliced through several strands with its eight limbs.
Garu moved.
His mist expanded further, enveloping him in a shroud that made his movements difficult to track. He darted forward, dagger glinting in the faint green light, throwing a dagger at Varnak’s exposed side.
The Elder Chief’s reaction was instantaneous. His form molded like liquid, bending out of the way. A flick of Garu’s wrist curved its trajectory—thread bound it in place.
Dammit… There goes one of my daggers off the jump, he snarled; making the gesture to return would only pull him toward danger. Garu flipped his remaining dagger to deflect a few rocks that flew at him from the side. Maybe I can use that later… Are you serious?
Varnak twisted his body, threads snapping toward Garu like coiled vipers as the corpses around them began to rise, silk weaving into their torn apart bodies to stitch them back together.
“You aren’t the only ones who can manipulate the dead!”
Garu dispersed, the mist swallowing him just as the string sliced through the space he had occupied. Reforming on Varnak’s other side, his blade illuminated with the unknown energy inside his elders infused into their weapons. He cut through a bundle that moved to entangle his partner—for the first time, he felt resistance—it only partially severed.
Varnak’s laugh echoed, filled with manic glee as the arachnid managed to barely escape due to the slight window he’d given. “Better, but not good enough!”
Forced to retreat, Garu’s body converted to vapor as he narrowly avoided the deadly silk. Above, the thélméthra drone landed on the ceiling, continued its assault, severing strands with ruthless efficiency that wove toward Ash and the Empress.
[3:00 Minutes Remaining]
Garu’s breath came steady, controlled, though the mounting pressure gnawed at his resolve. Varnak’s form had grown grotesque, his elongated limbs and web-covered body twisting with each motion. The newly sprouted arms moved independently, their spear-like tips weaving more threads into the chaotic lattice above.
At least he’s not as proficient in creating silk as a real thélméthra or we’d be dead by now.
“General, Queen!” the drone hissed, its voice sharper now. “I’ve lost track of some of his newer threads—they’re layered in ways I haven’t felt before. They’re…turning invisible!”
“One of my second younger sister’s affinities?” Camellia answered with concern. “He isn't remotely close to her control. It will move incredibly slow.”
Invisible? Garu’s mind raced as he dodged another strike, the silk brushing dangerously close to his skin, and it wasn’t even this phasing silk. I don’t know how to do what you just said.
The drone’s voice cut through his thoughts, grim and resolute. The drone lunged again, its barbed pincers slicing through the dense threads even “He’s cloaking his web somehow—there’s no time to analyze. I’m going to cut through as much as I can—”
Garu didn’t have time to react, still midair, the world moving in slow motion. Every beat of his undead heart, fueling him with unlife pumping through his ears. A rush of information poured from Camellia, igniting within them in the fraction of a second.
“Don’t! He’s baiting you! Don’t focus on general atmospheric shifts. Identify the spaces that are unnaturally still and the slightest vibrations of moisture. Her silk phased through things as if not there—how did you not know that—it’s incredibly thin, and camouflages itself to appear as anything!”
“I have failed, Queen… I hatched just after the collapse of the hive.” Unseen silk wrapped around its legs, binding it mid-motion. “I can’t escape, General,” it hissed, its tone calm despite its fate. “I die in service to the Empress.”
Garu moved instinctively, dispersing into mist to close the distance. His glowing dagger flashed, aimed to cut the black thread that materialized the moment it snatched the drone—but a sudden pull on his arm stopped him cold.
Shit.
Varnak’s diamond-tooth-like grin grew. His wide vision tilted down. Obsidian thread materialized as if from thinair.
The silk coiled around his forearm like a worm, tightening with each rapid heartbeat, the monster’s fingers twitching closed—it sliced into his flesh, shearing through muscle and skin like a hot blade.
Mist swallowed him.
His form dissolved as the thread snapped taut. Reforming several meters away, he staggered, his arm reduced to exposed bone, almost all the flesh stripped away in jagged chunks to reveal smoky bone, infused with jade veins—energy leaked out of him.
“Dispers!” Ash commanded.
Half turned, Garu barely saw the black thread already materializing around his leg.
How did he know where I’d reform?
He tried to disperse again, but that slight hesitation cost him.
I can’t.
[2:34 Minutes Remaining]
A sickle sliced through the air, severing the thread before it could tighten further. Ash’s skeletal horse leapt over Garu, its illuminated hooves landing heavily as it kicked him backward. Garu wasn’t even sure how he’d made it to him that quickly.
“Pull yourself together and prepare—” Ash growled, his voice cold as ice. “Empress?”
A shiver ran down Garu’s throat, time moving to a crawl as all noise muted the Nexus. Their empress’ figure rose up as he fell toward her. He tumbled over the corpses, his body sluggish but still functional as he looked down to see most of his flesh shaved away once again—his stamina was leaking out.
“Empress!”
Varnak laughed, his voice echoing like thunder. “Your minion’s necrotic tricks amuse me. He must be a general of your empress! But you won’t save them!”
Garu dispersed in fog, appearing above the monster to stab him through the skull as the eye atop it dilated, now weeping red liquid. Ash leaped from his mount, the horse phasing through the threads, decaying them on contact. The two clashed.
Ash’s sickles met Varnak’s twin, spear-like hands in a shower of sparks and necrotic energy. Garu struck, yet an unseen force struck his back, propelling him through the air. And, for a moment, Garu lost track of their movements in the chaos, echoes of their strikes cascading through the tunnels. But then, with an explosion of emerald fire and swirling darkness, Ash flew backward to land beside Elinor.
Ash’s hood was thrown back, part of his crown shattered, and a deep gash marred his skull. Despite the damage, a grim smile spread across his skeletal face.
Their empress seemed to move as if in water. He blinked, twisted in the air, kicked off the wall, and shot toward her. Landing on his bony foot, most flesh dissolving into green mist, he took up a defensive position.
And then, she spoke.
“Camellia, show Varnak what a true thélméthra princess is capable of… I dare say this may even bring you up to your original power.” Raising a fist to the air, she said one word that echoed through the halls and through every soul connected to her. “Dominate.”
[Warlord - Domination: In effect]
Garu’s gaze snapped upward just as crimson threads streaked through the air, colliding with Varnak’s black silk in a dazzling clash.
Camellia.
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Comments
Blinglee
Damn that battle was epic
