The Great Core's Paradox

I hissed in delight as [Chrono Fire] finally disappeared with an intense clap of noise, burying my own sounds underneath it. The revolting bad-things were clumped around me in a great pile, riddled with self-inflicted wounds and bloody injuries. Only a single enemy remained, bloodied and stumbling, the final bad-thing to survive. Barely, at that.

Four of its six arms hung limp from their joints, heavily damaged by the fight only a few moments before. As [Chrono Fire] grew stronger, I had been eventually forced to push slightly out of its slow-spot in order to see what I was doing. Time had slowed too much by that point. Still, that also meant that I was left with an extreme amount of light to work with; it had gathered heavily within the clutches of the sacred slow-spot, nearly slowed to a complete stop.

With so much light to use, I had pulled greedily; the reservoirs in my scale-flesh had been filled near to bursting, again and again, and the final two bad-things found themselves completely covered by false-selves. In that moment, I had felt more powerful than ever, watching as the final two revolting bad-things slashed and stabbed at one another, neither aware that they were doing exactly what I wanted them to do.

Even with that, it took a long time for the first of them to die. Still, I wasn’t surprised by that. After all, even if they were doing my work for me, they were still killing each other - and the final two were the final two for a reason. They had already defeated all of the others.

They had grown stronger from their deaths.

It wasn’t enough, in the end. Whatever lesser Core had created them had done a poor job, like I already knew. Their flesh was twisted and falling apart, and their minds were not much better.

As the heavily injured bad-thing shook itself off, sending blood flying through the air, I slithered my way through the pile of bodies. My scale-flesh ached with the rampant use of [Illusion Spark], but that wasn’t why my false-selves had disappeared.

I could have kept going, at least for a little while. I could have coated the final bad-thing in a wave of false-selves. I could have watched as it did my work for me, killing itself in a mindless frenzy.

I didn’t want to. Not yet, at least. As satisfying as the fight had been, being able to watch the bad-things move to my will - being able to prove that the Great Core had been right to trust me - there was still one thing that I wanted.

The monsters had become stronger during the fight. They had grown from the deaths of one another, just as I grew stronger when I defeated my own enemies. They had been rewarded for their victories, as mindless and stupid as they had been.

I wanted that victory. I wanted that reward - and I knew where it was, all accumulated within the final bad-thing to remain.

And so while I knew that I could defeat the final bad-thing with no real risk, allowing it to defeat itself and keep me away from harm, I didn’t. Instead, I pressed through the pile of bodies, dipping under mangled limbs and over heavy flesh. I shifted the illusion pressed over me with every slither, matching the fleshy tones and bloody hues that I moved alongside. All the while, my scale-flesh ached and trembled, the constant tug and pull of [Illusion Spark] on my overtaxed reservoirs painful in its intensity.

The injured bad-thing glanced around in confusion, searching for my false-selves before it caught sight of the Coreless that still waited at the edge of the black-water. As I peeked outward from a gap between two mangled bodies, the creature stumbled forward slightly, nearly falling as one of its legs buckled underneath it. A few of the remaining Coreless let out a fearful shout at the sight; the sound was pleasing to the ear, not because I wanted them to be afraid, but because I needed them to appreciate what I had done for them. That the Great Core had saved them.

Finally, I slithered out from the pile of corpses, reaching bare stone at last. I hissed lightly in thanks to the Great Core, a slight touch of [Sound Shaping] pulling the noise away from the injured bad-thing’s ears. It stepped forward again, and I slithered behind it.

After a moment of thought, I released my hold on [Illusion Spark], reveling in the way that my scale-flesh loosened and relaxed. It wasn’t exactly pleasurable, but the loss of tension was extremely relieving. Something close enough to seem similar.

I let my covering of ore-flesh shine freely, brightening my position behind the enemy bad-thing.

The disgusting creature stepped forward again, leading leg trembling unsteadily, and some of the Coreless shouted again. Not quite the same as before. There was still fear there, quite a lot of it, but there was something else.

Hope?

And then, just as it tried to step once more, in the moment before its foot touched down on the ground, I struck.

A blast of noise smashed into one side of the bad-thing’s head, aimed directly at one of its ears with a forceful application of [Sound Shaping]. My throat-flesh ripped and tore, blood pouring from the open wounds, but the creature fell.

Even as it dropped, it swung backwards, one of its final two arms seeking to eviscerate its attacker. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t there, no matter what it might have sounded like.

The force of the blow only caused the thing to fall harder, smashing itself into the ground with the viciousness with which it attacked. In its moment of weakness, I pressed.

Even injured as it was, I knew that it was dangerous. It had grown strong off of the deaths of the others, and a single attack could mean my end. There was no time to hesitate, no time to let the thing gather itself. There was no time for anything but attack. Attack, attack, attack.

I burrowed into its weakest places, the gaping wounds where it had been stabbed and mangled by its brethren. I bit down, all of the venom that I had remaining pouring through my fangs. Slow-venom pushed into its veins, immediately beginning to resist its attempts to move, to break away, to attack, to defend. To survive.

Needing more time, I pushed against the strained reservoirs of [Illusion Spark], ignoring the way that my scale-flesh nearly recoiled at the thought. A false-self appeared to the side, and I sent it slithering outwards, hoping that it would catch the bad-thing’s eye.

I clamped onto a gaping wound and twisted myself downwards, opening my jaws wide. Blood, black as my own scales, flowed downwards from the wounds in my throat-flesh. I let it run freely, taking a moment to tear it further with a painful blast of [Sound Shaping]. My throat-flesh ripped again, and [Poisonous Blood] rushed past my open jaws.

The damaged bad-thing began to thrash wildly, its damaged limbs skittering uselessly at the stone below. Even still, a wild twist almost crushed me under its weight, and a flopping limb nearly did the same.

If this had been anywhere near a fair fight, I would not have stood a chance. If this had happened any other way, I would have already found myself tearing away from my dead scale-flesh. Even near-fatally injured as it had already been, even desperately thrashing and writhing, the bad-thing had almost gored me more than once.

It wasn’t a fair fight, though.

It wasn’t at all. And so, for the first time, I managed to kill something far, far stronger than myself. It didn’t matter that I had help. It didn’t matter that its allies had damaged it severely.

They were already dead, and when the thought-light flickered at last, I took the reward that it had accumulated.

Experience Gained!

Level Up x3!

3 Trait Points Gained.