4317 swung the massive weapon in a clumsy, desperate arc.
CRUNCH.
The hammer connected squarely, imploding the drone into a cloud of black dust and sparks, like fireflies in the void, showering his arms and face, but he didn't blink.
ZZZZZT-CLICK!
He swung again, obliterating another drone diving towards the casket. His ribs ached in pain.
The pain isn't real, it's only in my head.
But the phantom aches said otherwise. Every blow that landed against his enemies echoed back to his bones, an invisible hammer driving spikes through his ribs, his arms, his skull. Each breath came jagged, each step happier than the last.
He stumbled back, hammer held low, chest heaving. The phantom pains receded, leaving behind the sharp, stinging reality of his accumulated wounds and his realization.
There's no end to them, no matter how many I destroyed, they just keep swarming from inside the cells.
He glanced at the collar, it looked like polished porcelain, finely crafted by a master artisan. It pulsed ominously with red glow. It was there, just out of his reach, mocking him almost.
His hammer cleaved through another drone, its metallic shell crumpling under force, his eyes twitched at the phantom pain accumulated in his brain.
I need to get the collar.
He checked the hovering text in the corner of his vision.
< OBJECTIVE STATUS >
» DESTROY THE COLLAR OF CONTROL or SURVIVE 1 hr KEEPING THE SOUL CASKET INTEGRITY OVER 20%
Time Remaining: 0 hr 50 min
» SOUL CASKET INTEGRITY: 85%
Only 10 minutes have passed, but the casket's integrity trickled down faster, despite his best efforts.
Fuck! I need to get to it before I break. Just a little faster, harder…
The drones kept swarming in a relentless tide. They grew frenzied as he closed on to the collar. The collar's glow intensified. It was almost in his reach. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the mental fog.
Just a little further.
.............
For every drone he crushed, two more emerged from the shadowed hexagons high above. They filled the air like malevolent locusts, their buzzing became physical pressure. But the collar was right here; he just needed to deliver the finishing blow to it. Despite the distance, the swarm made it impossible to get past and hit the collar.
Fuckinnnn hell! There's no end to this. The drones were only focusing on the casket, but they always kept a distance from the collar. Should I just put the casket down and go for the collar? Will it even break in a single blow? What if the drones break the casket before he can destroy the collar?
His swings grew desperate, scanned the chaotic hive.
It was all or none.
He unbuckled the casket in swift movement. And just as he thought, the drones relished his choice. The cracks were audible, and each second ticked like a time bomb. The casket won't last a minute, but the drones didn't bother him anymore. He dove for the collar and swung the Gravekeeper's Hammer. Pouring every ounce of his remaining strength, his fury, his grief into the blow.
CRACK!
The hammer struck true. Not the sound of shattering glass, but the sickening crunch of bone. 4317 grunted as his ribs fractured under the recoil, sharp agony lancing through him. He cried out, stumbling back, the hammer nearly slipping from his grasp. The collar pulsed violently, absorbing the blow, unharmed. A thin wisp of shadow curled from its surface, mocking him.
» Soul Casket Integrity: 74%
Gritting his teeth, he swung the hammer once more. Metal rang. He felt the recoilsplinter through his bones. Something broke again, but he could care less.
Once more.
The impact rattled his skull, set his teeth on edge. He dropped to one knee, clutching the hammer as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered. Every breath felt strenuous, yet the collar remained pristine.
The system's hum pressed in, the integrity fell each second, 59…57...56.
His chest tightened. No matter how many times he broke himself against it, the collar will never yield. Protecting the casket and shattering the collar was impossible.
Maybe the trail was supposed to be impossible to begin with, but he couldn't give up. He thought of every possible option.
4317 looked from the unharmed collar to his shattered ribs, screaming with every breath, to the gaping hole in the casket revealing his friend's face. The cracks spread further with every vibration.
52%... The number pulsed like a dying heartbeat.
He couldn't break the collar. He couldn't fight the endless swarm. He couldn't let them reach 3952.
And it occurred to him. The only option that might work. A terrible one.
With a groan of pain and despair, 4317 dropped the hammer. It clattered on the dark amber. He reached out, his hand trembling, not from fear, but from the agony in his chest, and grasped the collar. It was freezing, searing, alive with malevolent energy. It fought him, shadows lashing like vipers, but he held on.
He turned to the shattered casket. Looked through the hole at 3952's serene, unseeing face.
"Forgive me," he rasped, hastening for the casket. And after one final look at 3952's face, he thrust the Collar of woven shadow through the broken glass and onto 3952's still chest.
The silence after placing the collar was absolute. Deafening. The endless, shrieking buzz of the Jax-drones ceased as if severed by a blade. They dropped from the air like stones, clattering onto the dark amber floor of the alcove and the slopes beyond, a grotesque rain of broken metal and distorted faces. Utter stillness descended upon the hive, broken only by 4317's ragged, pained breaths and the faint, ominous drip-drip of his blood onto the resin.
» PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: COMPLETE
» SOUL CASKET INTEGRITY: 49%
» TIME REMAINING: 0 hr 39 min
» NEW OBJECTIVE: ???
The words flickered in his vision, cold and mocking.
He thought he had won, but the question marks really bothered him.
49%. It was a close call. Should I just sit idling till the timer runs out?
Then he looked at the fallen drones, and their mockery of a face resembling Jax's. Slowly, the shock of sudden silence receded, replaced by a rising tide of something darker. It wasn't just the phantom aches from countless drone kills. It was the helplessness. The image of Jax's sneering face on every drone, the relentless assault, the shattering glass revealing 3952's peaceful face… and his own desperate, violating act.
A low growl started deep in 4317's chest, vibrating through his fractured ribs. It built, fueled by the phantom pains, the real blood soaking his clothes, the violated sanctity of the casket. It became a snarl, then a raw, animalistic roar that tore from his throat, echoing in the vast, silent hive.
"RRRAAAAAGH!"
He lunged towards the nearest fallen drone. He brought his boot down with savage force.
CRUNCH.
Chitin and metal buckled under the impact. He stomped again. And again. The Jax-face shattered. He grabbed another drone, a larger one, and slammed it against the amber wall.
Fragments flew. He picked up the Gravekeeper's Hammer, its obsidian head still humming, and brought it down like a meteor on another cluster. Black dust and sparks erupted.
He moved through the alcove and onto the main floor, a whirlwind of destruction. Every fallen drone became a target for his unleashed fury. He kicked, stomped, smashed, and hammered. Phantom pains flared with every impact – but they only fueled the fire. He wasn't just destroying machines; he was exorcising every ounce of pain and helplessness inflicted upon him. He vented his rage on the twisted effigies of his tormentors, reducing them to unrecognizable scrap. The air filled with the sounds of shattering chitin, rending metal, and his own guttural cries.
Minutes bled together. The fury burned hot, then began to gutter, leaving him gasping, trembling, sweat and blood stinging his eyes, the hammer heavy in his grip. The floor around him was a wasteland of drone carnage. Not one remained intact. The hive was silent again, but now it was the silence of a charnel house.
Panting, he leaned on the hammer, looking towards the alcove. Towards the casket. Towards 3952. The cold knot of dread returned, colder now. He had to get the collar out of the casket.
Staggering, ignoring the protest of his ribs and the myriad cuts, he made his way back. The jagged hole in the casket's front panel gaped like a wound. He could see 3952's chest clearly now, where he'd placed the collar of woven shadow.
He reached the casket. Hesitated for only a heartbeat, steeling himself. Then, with careful, blood-smeared fingers, he reached through the broken glass.
A hairline of black— like ink in water bloomed across the cheek, spidering out in veins.
His breath hitched. Frantically, he swept his hand across 3952's face, pushing aside the shroud fabric. It traced all over 3952's body, coalescing toward his chest.
He leaned closer, peering through the shattered glass, his heart pounding a frantic drum against his broken ribs.
Where did the collar go? How could it just disappear, and what are these black veins blooming across...
Before 4317 could form proper thought, the ding of the system intervened.
» ANOMALOUS ASSIMILATION INITIATED.
» TRIAL OF STRENGTH: COMPLETE
The texts blurred as his gaze caught something more chilling—
3952's eyes were open.