Shadow Slave

The creature escaped its cage. It was a revolting thing, a towering mass of grey flesh with a hundred nimble limbs and a scattering of huge, eerily human-like eyes.

All of them burned with delirious frenzy.

Its enormous body continued to unfold, occupying much more space on the outside of the container than there had been on the inside. Its limbs moved, sharp claws shooting in all directions. Morrow might have been able to resist the terrifying abomination if she had been prepared. But she wasn't. Her body had been battered and wounded, and her mind was momentarily frozen by the visage of the creature that had somehow escaped its enthrallment.

She was slow to react by only a split second, but that was all it took. Her figure disappeared in a tide of slithering grey limbs, and, just like that...

An Ascended of the great clan Song had been killed.

Amiran watched her die with an incredulous expression. 'Such irony...' The witch had been slain by her own pet abomination. The death of a powerful enemy should have brought him joy, but he felt a grim sense of dread instead... after all, the creature had to be dealt with. And Amiran, despite his pride and strength, was not confident in his chances.

He would have been a fool not to recognize the revolting monstrosity for what it was - a Corrupted. And of a high Class, from the looks of it. A Devil? No, worse than that... a Tyrant. 'These crazy wretches... they smuggled a Corrupted Tyrant into a human city? They were planning to unleash that thing within a siege capital's walls?'

Of course, Amiran himself was among the people who had knowingly allowed the Corrupted Tyrant to be smuggled into a human city, because it suited their goals. The hypocrisy of his contempt did not escape him, but he brushed it off. There was no time to ponder such matters.

Because the Tyrant was starting to move. There were still a couple dozen Awakened left alive in the ruined production hall, all dazed by Morrow's dreadful wail. Some of them belonged to Clan Valor, and some of them belonged to Clan Song - however, at the moment, their allegiance did not matter. The abomination did not care about whom they served, after all.

Grey limbs shot through the air, grabbing several of the Awakened that were closest to the broken cage. Blood spilled to the ground.

...Amiran was already moving. "Regroup!

Concentrate your attacks on the monster!" He gritted his teeth, feeling the toxin sap his speed and strength. What kind of treacherous blade had that Awakened assassin used? A Master like Amiran was not easy to poison, and yet, he could feel a sickening weakness spreading through his body.

Fighting through that weakness, he growled and threw his hammer with all the might of an Ascended Knight. The war hammer spun as it flew toward the Tyrant with the speed of a bullet. And, as if a path had been opened by its passage, a furious torrent of invisible force followed.

The hammer and the torrent of force struck the massive body of the shambling horror with such fury that a sudden explosion rang out. A full-power strike from Amiran was destructive enough to shatter the gates of a Citadel... the Tyrant, however, was simply thrown back. The bodies of the Awakened it had grabbed fell to the ground.

But then... They slowly stood up. Only they did not look like humans anymore. There was a wicked, alien coldness hiding in their eyes, and ghostly black strings extending from their backs toward the limbs of the grey abomination.

The faces of the risen corpses twisted, and they awkwardly lunged toward the nearest Awakened. More blood spilled. Amiran cursed. 'A puppeteer...' Before, he had not been too worried about the creature escaping from the factory and reaching the industrial zone above - that was within the parameters of the mission. Now, however... allowing the Tyrant access to crowds of refugees was the same as gifting it an army.

That, he could not allow.

The creature had to be destroyed now, before it received an opportunity to create a legion of flesh puppets. In fact, the Tyrant had to know that there were millions of souls to be reaped right above. Intelligent as these creatures were, it should have been trying to escape a dangerous enemy like Amiran and reach the surface, where there was an unlimited supply of bodies for it to turn.

But, for some reason, the appalling abomination seemed hellbent on slaying every human in the main production hall of the underground factory first. Amiran was not going to complain. "Attack, you wretches!" His bellow rolled through the hall, pushing the Awakened into action. The warriors of Valor followed the order without hesitation, while the surviving worms of Song seemed confused about what to do.

Some hesitantly joined the attack on the Tyrant. Some tried to attack fellow humans despite the situation - those were cut down first. Some even tried to escape. The cowards did not make it far. Amiran was too busy to notice who had killed them, but none managed to disappear into the dark mouth of the tunnel.

The wall of grey flesh and countless limbs surged at the rest of them. 'I have to destroy it... I have to... I have...' In his heart, Amiran knew that a Corrupted Tyrant was not an enemy he could hope to slay alone. Especially not poisoned and drained by his fight against the cursed witch, Morrow... but this one was strangely weak. Maybe it was weakened by being locked in the enchanted cage for so long, or maybe it was simply the type of Tyrant whose power lay in a legion of minions.

It was also rabid and crazed, almost...

unintelligent. Fighting the creature was no different from fighting a powerful Monster, if not for the puppets it could create. So, there was a chance, no matter how small. The Awakened died, only to be turned into puppets. The puppets were destroyed in turn. The shambling horror of grey flesh received numerous wounds, many of its long limbs were crushed or severed. The factory seemed to be coming undone.

'I WILL destroy it!' Even when the last of the Awakened under his command died, Amiran persisted. His sword flashed over and over again, and waves of invisible force crashed into the massive body of the creature in a constant stream. His lungs were burning, and his veins were full of poison. His essence was running dry. But he refused to fail the mission... he had to prevail.

And then, miraculously... Amiran did. The puppets that were reaching out to grab him suddenly swayed, and then fell down. The towering, desiccated mass of grey flesh convulsed, and lifelessly sprawled on the cracked floor. The Spell spoke into his ears. He swayed, struggling to believe in what he saw, and fell to one knee. He was utterly spent and barely able to move.

And yet, he had won. Knight Amiran drew in a hoarse breath. "I... I won!" In the silence that followed, a cold voice suddenly resounded from behind him: ""Did you?"

He flinched and turned around, glancing up. Above him stood a dark apparition. A fiend in fearsome black armor, wearing a demonic mask that was crowned by three twisting horns. In the mask's eyes, there was nothing but darkness. 'What? Who... who is...'

The mask moved slightly, and the two pools of darkness stared directly into Amiran's soul, making him shudder. The apparition spoke: "I guess you did." A moment later, a cold blade slid silently into the slit of Amiran's visor, ending his life.