"Oh, for fuck's sake!" I cursed internally, teeth clenched as the beast lunged at me again, for what felt like the thousandth time. Like one of those worn-out, repetitive stories where the hero suffers endlessly, except this wasn't fiction. This was real. And I wasn't a hero.
My makeshift sonic sense—barely holding up—fed me enough feedback to anticipate the next wave of pain. Her presence, thunder-charged and electric, crawled up my spine as she approached. Slow this time. Calculated. Intentional.
I could feel every footfall of the Chimaera, each one resonating through the ground and into my shattered frame. Her breath hovered above me, hot and stinging, while her massive body cast a shadow that swallowed me whole. My head was just below her mouth; the rest of me? Practically pinned beneath her neck.
She paused. Just for a second. Long enough for dread to take shape.
Then came the scream.
A sharp, sonic detonation aimed right into my ears, rupturing something deep inside. My head felt like it exploded from within. I couldn't hear anymore. Just a ringing... endless and cruel.
Before I could process it, her fused, jagged arm came down, slamming into my chest with brutal force. I felt the last remnants of my bones give way. Felt something deep, terrifyingly central, begin to fracture: my mana core.
Blood gushed upward from my lungs, flooding my mouth with warmth and iron. Then came the second hit. Then the third. And then, after a pause long enough to register her intent, the final blow. She'd gathered herself for that one.
It landed like a comet. My chest crumpled. My single working eye dimmed under the pressure. Teeth shattered. I couldn't even scream. There wasn't enough of me left to do it. Everything turned numb. Mercifully so.
I wasn't a warrior anymore—I wasn't even a person. I was a slab of broken meat, pinned beneath something ancient and cruel. And as numbness spread, I welcomed it. Because I wasn't brave enough to feel the pain. I wasn't wise enough to survive it. I was just... done.
And yet, in the middle of that annihilation, my thoughts drifted.
Forza. What was she doing right now?
While I got outclassed, outmatched and pounded into the dirt, I remembered the thunder above the clouds. Explosions. Flares of power that danced across the sky, far away from this pit. She was up there. Fighting her own war.
She brought me here. Convinced me to join this mission. She didn't force me—there were no ultimatums, no chains, no threats. Just a look. A seducing request, or how it felt that time...
I had to say yes...
I chuckled, weakly, bitterly—mentally, because my jaw was likely unrecognisable at this point.
Who was I kidding? This was never her fault. I walked into this death trap on my own two feet. I knew the odds. I knew what I was risking. And now… well, now I knew how it ended.
The barrage stopped. Not that it mattered anymore. I knew I was done for. My body was ruined. My mind was fraying. The rest didn't matter.
And just as I finally gave in—just as I surrendered to the silence—my vision returned. Left side only. Just enough. Enough to let me see my own end coming.
The Chimaera stared down at me, her monstrous eyes locking onto mine. She knew. Somehow, she knew my vision was back—because she tilted her head slightly, almost acknowledging it, almost mocking it.
Then, without a sound, her tail coiled around me. First, around my midsection—hoisting me off the ground like I weighed nothing. The upper segment wrapped around my throat. Tight. Too tight. My feet dangled. My lungs begged.
The air—if it could even be called that—grew thinner. Choking. This cursed region made breathing feel like a privilege.
All my limbs were broken beyond recognition. The only sign of life left in me? I could still feel my fingers. Not move them—Gods, no. But the pain remained. A reminder. Of what I had. Of what I was losing.
I was dying. And then—
BOOOOOOOM!
A shockwave cracked across the sky.
I didn't hear it. My ears were long gone—shattered by the beast's scream—but I felt it. Like the world itself had been ripped in two. The storm clouds split violently apart, as though something had detonated inside them, from the core.
Even the Chimaera flinched. Her head whipped around, instincts triggered, posture crouched low in a blink. Every part of her shifted with terrifying precision—and then relaxed just as fast.
'Lightning… It's not just speed or power,' I realised through the haze, watching her recover instantly. 'It's supercharging her nervous system—her brain, her reflexes, her perception. That's why she's so damn fast. So... relentless.'
She turned back toward me. The explosion had meant nothing to her. Whatever force tore the sky didn't matter. I did. I was still her obsession. Her prey.
Her tail rose to my face, poison-coated fangs glinting mere inches from my skin. The stench hit me first—so foul, so otherworldly—it made death feel like mercy. I gagged, despite my crushed throat.
Why wasn't I dead yet?
The last blow should have ended me. Maybe it meant to. Maybe she wanted me to be conscious. To see it coming.
And then—a voice. Not heard. Not imagined. But planted. Directly into my mind.
"If you die here... those two women you love so much... they will face a fate worse than death. For eternity."
Whatever that voice meant, whatever its intentions were—it didn't matter.
Because in the very next second, my mind did what it always did. It imagined the worst.
I pictured Sia and Sara facing even half of what I was enduring. That was enough.
No words came out of my mouth. There was no time for that. Only instinct.
My telekinesis roared to life, surging from somewhere deep. I didn't hold back this time. I let it break me if it had to. My body could shatter. My mind could melt. I didn't care.
The Chimaera sensed it instantly. Her instincts kicked in before her body even moved. Her tail whipped forward, aiming for my mouth, likely trying to shut down the source. But I was already ahead.
Telekinesis reacted faster than my limbs. It grabbed the space around me, forming a buffer—a millimetre-wide wall between her tail and my mouth. Her lightning flared in response, jumping from her tail into me, but the invisible field of force I generated took the hit.
I wrapped myself in it.
A full-body layer of telekinetic pressure, forming a crude armour, just thick enough to block the current, to keep me standing.
The Chimaera lunged forward again, the two of us crashing into the same region where all of this had started. I didn't let her momentum go to waste. As we collided, I formed a blade around my right arm. Not an elegant one. Just a solid, sharpened construct of raw telekinetic force.
At the same time, my left hand shot toward her tail—the one still latched around me. I'd held it in place mentally the entire time. Now, I tightened the grip, locking it in.
The blade on my right wasn't just a weapon. It was an extension of my intent. The entire arm, shoulder to wrist, was covered in layered mental pressure. I didn't swing wildly. I carved. A clean, deliberate cut.
The tail gave in. Bone, tendon, muscle—all severed in one precise motion. As she tried to lift me and slam me into the pond, the same one where Snowhite had been drowned, I forced her grip to break.
Before I hit the water, I pulled my left arm behind my back, twisting the remains of her tail, pulling it close enough, and sliced through the tail-end with the same blade. Both ends dropped. Her grip shattered completely.