June 28, 1998.
It was supposed to be a summer vacation trip to visit Lake Eske, in Donegal. A few quiet days, connected with nature. And if luck was on their side, they might spot a red deer or a seal lounging on the shore. It was the first time he'd leave his hometown to experience the wonders the world had to offer. The months of waiting for the trip to finally happen felt like an eternity gnawing at his soul.
"Let's go fishing!"
That was the first thing his aunt shouted as they hopped out of the van. She couldn't care less that they didn't have the proper permits to fish, actively ignoring the barrage of complaints and warnings from the rest of the family.
The eight-year-old boy followed her eagerly. The adrenaline of "doing something forbidden" behind his parents' backs was more than enough reason to commit a small crime, one where all the blame and severe consequences would fall on his aunt.
¿Where did she get a boat?
His childish mind didn't give it the slightest thought.
The hours flew by amidst anecdotes and laughter. The tide rocked them gently, the occasional sway lulling the boy into a drowsiness that crept up so gradually he didn't even notice when his eyes closed.
In the next second, they were both violently thrown into the air, propelled by a tremendous force from beneath them. All the air in his lungs vanished when he hit the ground. His mind couldn't fully process what was happening, overwhelmed by the bleeding from his wounds and the adrenaline pumping at full throttle.
His left eye, now covered in blood dripping from his forehead, burned like a pool of lava as the bay's wind grazed it. The pain in his face kept him conscious. Or rather, it helped him ignore the rest of the lacerations on his body.
The voices of his grandfather and uncle echoed, shouting his name. He didn't have the strength to call back, and even if he did, he still wouldn't have responded to the adults his parents had entrusted to look after him.
There was no sign of his aunt. Not a scream, a groan, or even a faint, pained whisper.
Just… a pair of crimson dots staring back at him.
The water, which moments ago seemed asleep under the bay's twilight, shattered like a struck mirror.
From the waves emerged something with no defined shape, at least not one his memory could compare to any animal from his picture books.
A long, wet, trembling neck, like a freshly uprooted trunk, rose until it towered over the lake. Its dark, glistening skin seemed made of dripping shadows with every movement.
Its enormous eyes glowed with a sorrowful gleam, like the monster stories his grandfather told him by the fire.
The boy couldn't scream. He had no air, no voice; he could barely feel his heart pounding against his ribs.
The creature exhaled, and the vapor from its snout enveloped him in a heavy, icy cloud, smelling of old iron and stagnant water.
From between its massive gums, an arm struggled futilely to break free. It reached out, as if trying to use the air itself as a rope to pull itself out. But it never had the slightest chance of succeeding.
His eyes met his aunt's, her body wrapped in the creature's tongue.
The humble ring flew off when the jaws clamped shut with force, still attached to its former owner's finger. The creature, visibly satisfied, looked at the boy one last time before snorting and submerging completely into the lake, vanishing entirely into the mist forming around it.
—¡Jarek! — his grandfather shouted upon seeing him sprawled on the shore, covered in wounds and splattered with mud. The old man's heart froze at the sight.
The elderly man ran, stumbling through the wet mud, and grabbed Jarek by the shoulders to make sure he was still breathing.
— ¿What happened? — his uncle asked. — Where… ¿where's Sussie? — he added, seeing no trace of his sister.
The questions kept coming, the voices growing louder as fear turned into hysteria.
But Jarek didn't flinch.
His gaze remained fixed on the mist, the image of his aunt's face burned into his brain.
---------------------------
— I'm telling you, Paper. ¡This is my ticket to freedom!
Andy sipped her chocolate cup. Her favorite café, as usual, was nearly empty. The few customers present were absorbed in casual conversations or focused on finishing their tasks. The music from the old radio eased the tension, while the aroma of freshly baked bread soothed her weary soul, melting away the day's accumulated stress.
Tucked away in a small alley where few people passed, the sunlight still reached the window enough to keep the atmosphere from feeling gloomy or abandoned. The furniture was hand-carved from blood oak, which required no regular maintenance and kept pests and insects at bay. Besides the cheap drinks, the reason she loved this place was the mango cotton-glazed donuts. The jelly spread like a summer breeze with every bite.
— A ticket, you say… — Paper replied from behind the counter. Her judgmental gaze scanned Andy as if searching for something. — Your last twenty tickets weren't exactly liberating…
As her redheaded friend savored her drink, Paper noticed something. A palpable unease numbed the tips of her fingers. Though her empathic abilities were limited as a half-breed, it wasn't hard for her to detect the emotional fluctuations of those standing in front of her.
A dewdrop wrapped in a cocoon of noisy carnivals. On the outside, Andy was her usual cheerful, energetic self. But deep in her heart, something betrayed the murky swamp pulling her into a void of sadness.
—You… are okay?
—¡Better than okay! — Andy replied, crumbs on her chin.
"Ahh… guess she won't tell me"
Paper thought. It was only natural. After all, opening your heart to others was always a difficult, if not impossible, task, even with those closest to you.
She chose not to press further. Stepping out from behind the counter, she gently hugged Andy, careful not to let her horns hurt her.
— I'm always here for you if you want to talk — she whispered through sobs that briefly drew the attention of the other customers.
—…¿Thanks? — Andy, puzzled by the sudden display of affection, could only pat her friend's shoulder. — Actually, that's why I came.
The small storage room at the back of the café was mostly used to store broken appliances that still had a chance of being repaired and put back into service. If not, they'd simply be handed over to scrappers for a bit of cash.
In the midst of the pile of dishwashers, Andy was desperately trying to lift a broken refrigerator, slated to be thrown out that afternoon. Her face was already red from the excessive effort, but she didn't seem ready to give up anytime soon.
Paper watched, holding a first-aid kit in case Andy hurt herself, still unsure why she insisted on lifting it.
—You don't have to prove anything to anyone
Paper said, her brows twisting with sadness. Andy finally let go of the refrigerator. Her breathing was heavy and ragged as she tried to catch her breath.
¿Why wasn't her super strength working?
Then, it hit her. Since waking up and "flowering," she hadn't consciously used her powers.
—¡Quick, show me a picture of a hospital! — she shouted, grabbing the refrigerator again and summoning all her strength, hoping the mere mention of the building would trigger her superpowers.
The pressure in her body grew, along with the throbbing pain in her arms and lower back.
—L-listen, just let go of that before—
¡CRACK!
Andy's back snapped. The unnatural screech echoed off the walls of the small storage room as she collapsed to the floor, unable to move.
"Tch… noisy woman"
Jarek thought, exhausted.
¿Was a break too much to ask for?
He realigned her spine and repaired the torn intervertebral discs so quickly that Paper didn't have a chance to do anything. Except run over with a tear-streaked face, of course.
Under normal conditions, the human brain doesn't activate all muscle fibers to avoid tears. But Jarek acted as a parallel nervous system, engaging the fibers that Andy's body couldn't use on its own, then reinforcing tendons and joints with microfilaments of his biomass (like hidden elastic cords) to withstand the extra strain and maximize her potential.
Unfortunately for his host, he didn't want to do it. Not now.
The accumulated fatigue was finally taking its toll on Jarek's mind. He hadn't allowed himself any rest since arriving in this world and living with Martín and the others. He no longer needed to. And he feared that if he fell asleep, something might try to kill him and his host.
Over time, he'd grown accustomed to keeping his senses on high alert, functioning day and night. But he simply… couldn't keep it up anymore.
His exhaustion was different from when he was human. It wasn't the simple mental fatigue from studying for hours or the buildup of minor aches that caused migraines at work.
It felt more like having his feet trapped in cement while sinking into an abyss. Heavy, irritating. An insomnia that wouldn't let you live but also wouldn't let you sleep.
Three months, with 40-hour days, filled with relentless work that drained his spirit like a dog devouring a piece of cheese.
"Wait… if the days here are longer, have I really been here for 90 days?"
"Three months… ninety days on Earth… that's 2,160 hours…" he murmured. "Divided by forty…"
He fell silent for a moment before dismissing the doubt. He no longer had the strength to do calculations or the clarity to organize numbers.
Instead, he chose to dive into a memory: Andy's expedition when she was just ten years old, during her days as an honorary member of the Lunar Acorns, a sort of scout group, complete with their ridiculous uniforms covered in medals that everyone would throw away once they grew up.
He didn't pick this memory to mock her. Truth be told, it took place in a cozy setting. Birds sang, the smell of sausages grilling on the barbecue… perfect for a well-deserved rest.
Though he technically couldn't sleep even if he tried, he could reduce his activity to a minimum. He wouldn't "shut off" completely, just keep a fraction of his mind focused on keeping his roomie contained while the rest slipped, for the first time in months, into a kind of symbiotic slumber.
The symbiotic machinery that made up his body was giving in, shutting down functions, slowing rhythms, closing senses like doors in an abandoned house.
There are not any problem from leaving his host alone for a few hours… or maybe days.
And it's not like there was a deadline to introduce himself to her.
¿Besides, what would he say?
"Hey, I'm a 57-year-old photographer in the form of a slime, and I'm inside of your body!"
Yeah, no thanks. He'd think of a more convincing story another day ,when he was calmer.
All that mattered now was… Rest.
— Curious — Andy said casually, as if she hadn't just fractured her spine. — ¡Add quick recovery to the list!
Paper blinked, her mind reeling from the scene she'd just witnessed, her brain short-circuiting.
— Holy shit… ¡you really do have a ticket!
The excitement in both of them kept Paper from focusing, so she decided to close early for the day.
¡The customer flow was dead anyway!
—¿Are you going to enlist in the Red Guard? — she asked as they rushed out. — If I were you, I'd go with the Leitawa rangers! Fresh air in its purest form.
—And a mortality rate just as pure — Andy replied with a playful grimace. — Tempting, tempting. But I've already got a plan in mind.
Paper let out an enthusiastic "Ooooh!" at the ambiguity. They boarded the cable car, giggling. The rest of the trip was spent chatting about the endless possibilities her new body offered, recent gossip, and complaints about unrequited loves. They didn't stop until they reached the last station.
—I'm surprised your brother's okay with this. With how overprotective he is, it wouldn't be surprising if he locked you in a cage to keep you from getting hurt.
Andy looked away, cold sweat running down her cheeks.
—Yeah, well… you know how persuasive I can be.
---------------------------
—I'm sorry, registrations are closed until further notice…
The receptionist leaned forward as she apologized. The recruitment center was, indeed, completely shut down. The official workers who usually managed the park, full of off-road vehicles and tents meant for rest, had vanished entirely. The only ones left inside were administrative staff, ensuring the equipment was properly stored.
¡They had to be joking!
"The Flying Vagabonds."
One of the job options Andy had carefully selected from the repertoire she'd been collecting over time. Though the name sounded odd and somewhat derogatory, it was a well-known and fairly popular organization. They primarily handled the delivery and distribution of all kinds of supplies and products.
From giant crates of goods for supermarkets in densely populated areas to a small bottle of shampoo ordered by a teenager at 4 a.m.
Their main appeal, and the reason Andy wanted to join, was their private distribution routes and auric vehicles.
A trip that would normally take weeks by plane, would take them only a few days.
For Andy, it meant a unique opportunity to visit other cities, see places she'd otherwise never have access to, and, above all, escape the monotony that consumed her day after day. She'd already tried to join at least four times in the past. Unfortunately, the physical exam was too demanding for her.
—But they announced on TV that the deadline was in three months
—¡I'm sorry! — The receptionist handed them a pamphlet with detailed recruitment information and an estimate of when it might reopen. — Ultrath sightings have been increasing since the festival accident. All tests conducted in open fields are on hold until the lunar barrier stabilizes.
Resigned and with no way to do anything about it, both returned to the bus, heading to their next destination. As they sat down, Paper felt that emotional unease again, the same one that had been haunting her since the morning. With a furtive glance, she confirmed Andy was still radiating smiles, as if nothing had happened. Yet, her numb fingers never failed to detect those kinds of heartaches. Though this time, it felt different, more familiar.
—¿Don't you think it's too soon to travel to other cities? You don't even have control over your strength. Focus on mastering it before you regret it… or worse, before an accident happens.
"Plus, I'll feel lonely if you go…"
Paper thought, swallowing the bitter tickle in her throat.
—I've waited too long for an opportunity like this.
The bus moved slowly along the road, jolting with every muddy pothole. The interior smelled of a mix of sweat, hot metal, and the spice packets a passenger clutched tightly to their chest. The constant rattling made the windows vibrate, letting out a high-pitched hum that blended with the weary murmurs of the other travelers. Nobody spoke much; most retreated into their thoughts, some dozed with their heads resting on their backpacks, and others simply stared out the window.
Outside, the landscape gradually changed.
The road opened onto a plain that would be endless, if it weren't for the walls. Their next destination was a midpoint: Ketherdam.
A makeshift area around an old air harbor. The place had gained fame not for its beauty but for how it survived the chaos. Rusty hangars turned into markets, cargo cranes repurposed as watchtowers, and metal corridors where merchants and travelers mingled, seeking a moment's respite.
Andy opened the window by her seat. She breathed in the breeze, laced with the scent of grass and wet earth.
—¿See that?, The whole world out there, calling, waiting for me to step on it. The wind whipping your face, roads that never end, and the thrill of not knowing what's beyond the next hill. Sunburned skin, bugs that won't leave you alone, and even the risk of getting lost by taking a turn you shouldn't have. — She turned to Paper, who had already lost the thread of the conversation. — ¡That's the kind of life I'm locking for. On the move, without a fixed place!
—Sounds exhausting — Paper replied. — I just hope that day doesn't come… too late.
—I hope so too. I might not be here for the next year.
The bus lurched violently just before Paper could ask what she meant. Some passengers bounced against the seats, while others hit the floor with a dull thud. Nervous murmurs and stifled exclamations quickly arose. All eyes turned to the windows.
The vehicle began to brake abruptly, despite the driver's desperate attempts to keep it moving. The tires sank into the mud with every turn, the windows cracked as the passengers, helpless, tried to stay composed.
—Uh… ¡d-don't worry! — the driver shouted from his seat, pressing the emergency button repeatedly. — It's just a technical issue
The floor of the bus exploded right after, as if his words had ignited a powder keg. Massive pincers tore through the hardened aluminum like a knife through butter.
Andy didn't think. Instinctively, she grabbed Paper as a silhouette rapidly approached from the right side of the vehicle. Metal fragments, pieces of seats, and people flew when the impact split the bus in two.
Andy's world turned red.
Her broken arms could no longer shield her friend, who now fell in slow motion toward the hungry jaws waiting below. The creature burst through the bus's wreckage as if the machine were a fragile cocoon.
Its rounded, pulsating body, resembling a dark orb, stood on long, tangled legs that scratched the ground with a dry snap, like nails on glass. Its bulky shell seemed to shimmer under the shower of sparks, not with its own light but with the oily reflection of a surface built to withstand blows and deflect bullets.
Andy caught a glimpse of its eyes —a cluster of emotionless blue spheres— just as Paper fell toward them.
"Ultrath."
Andy's eyes widened as Paper was swallowed. The jaws closed over her effortlessly, two iron plates devouring a piece of soft flesh. There was no time for a scream, only a dry snap and the repulsive sound of bones breaking under pressure.
Andy couldn't react, not even when the same fate awaited her.
Another Ultrath, smaller, lunged toward Andy, still airborne. The creature propelled itself, its long legs digging into the twisted bus wreckage before launching like a living projectile.
There was no fear. No resignation.
Just an enormous void growing larger as she relived her life's memories in a couple of seconds.
The time she forced Ripley to eat a bug at seven years old and the punishment her mother gave her afterward. The time she and Paper accidentally set the university orchard on fire, resulting in their expulsions.
So much wasted time, so much effort that, in the end, amounted to nothing.
For the first time, she regretted turning down the secretary job her brother offered years ago. If she had accepted…
— I'm sorry
Andy whispered, closing her eyes and accepting the end.
But it never came.
Her arms twisted, the exposed bones realigned as torn flesh healed itself. The rest of her battered body rebuilt itself. The air around her vibrated with a low hum as her arms, covered in a blue substance, moved on their own to block the Ultrath's jaws just before they devoured her skull.
—¿Huh? — Andy groaned.
"What… ¿what is this feeling?"
A deep, guttural voice, resonating in her brain, echoed through her. It dragged its syllables like an animal's growl. An uncomfortable mix of someone speaking in your ear and, at the same time, a meter away.
First, blue threads extended from her arms, branching out across her shoulders and legs like thick vines growing beneath her skin, covering her while molding to every curve of her body. Panic surged in a burst. The viscous tide enveloped her. The blue threads widened, turning into pulsating organic plates. Her skin vanished under a living lattice that drowned out her screams as a smooth mask with razor-sharp teeth stifled them.
The Ultrath, still struggling with its trapped jaws, took a step back.
Its instincts screamed, begged it to flee, but Jarek wouldn't allow it.
Its shell cracked under the increasing force of the grip. A blue blade emerged from her forearm like a liquid fang that solidified in a blink. Jarek drove it into the Ultrath's side, piercing the rounded armor like hot wax. The monster shrieked and retreated, but was dragged back, claw against claw, in a clash that made the bus wreckage tremble.
Andy tried to move an arm, push the monster away, escape…
But she discovered her will was barely an echo. Her hands no longer obeyed her. Then, she lifted the Ultrath by the neck with one hand, slammed it into the metal wreckage, and tore it in two with such disproportionate violence that Andy didn't know whether to cry or vomit.
---------------------------
The torn body of the smaller Ultrath was still convulsing when a dry roar cut through the air. The ground trembled, and the darkness was pierced by the glow of more blue eyes.
One, three, nine, thirty…
The number of beasts surrounding Jarek grew, their stingers dripping green liquid as they emerged from multiple holes in the earth.
Andy's pain seeped into him, forcing him to snap upright. Jarek quickly processed the context by reviewing the memories of the last five minutes.
Most of the passengers were dead, an old friend had been devoured, and the few survivors who withstood the impact were on the verge of becoming the day's breakfast.
And now, he had become the center of attention for the larger ones.
No matter how you looked at it, this was the worst possible outcome.
And yet… ¿Why was his heart pounding with joy?
His body reacted before his mind, tensing muscles, sharpening reflexes. Adrenaline mixed with an icy chill that ran down his spine, piercing every nerve. And that's when he launched his first attack.
Sharp lances, formed directly from Jarek's feet, shot through the air. They impaled the farthest Ultraths, the youngest and least experienced, who were circling and cornering the survivors, shredding their defenses before they could react. The crunch of impact mingled with screams of terror.
Every movement was instinctive, almost mechanical, but his mind recorded every detail: the Ultraths' stances, the distance between them, the way fear spread among the humans. All at once, all with clarity.
"¿How could I forget?"
The memory of his aunt played with painful clarity. Her eyes, wide and filled with desperate hope, wrapped in a panic that tore at Jarek's heart every time he relived the scene in his dreams. A horror so deep, so raw, it seemed to claw at his heart, reminding him of the helplessness he felt back then.
Alongside with his uncle, he returned to that lake countless times, searching for the channels in County Donegal that were connected by currents to Scotland
Over the years, everyone gave up; even his uncle lost all hope of seeing his sister again.
But not Jarek.
Though his memory fragmented and the details of what he was searching for grew increasingly vague, he never stopped investigating. Every shadow in the forest, every distant rumor, every whisper of the wind was a clue he pursued.
And all just...
¡To beat the living hell out of that monster and avenge his aunt!
¡To ensure no one else would watch a loved one be devoured by an unknown creature!
¡To have Bigfoot as a pet!
He delved inward, accessing the genetic code he had copied from Martín. As he did, sensory spines sprouted from his forearms. The vibration of the ground, the oscillation of the air, every minute pulse of surrounding energy was instantly translated into visual and tactile information. In that moment, the world became more alive. It was audible, predictable. And Jarek was at the center, reading it all before it even existed. Among all the beasts, one had two energy signatures, one on the verge of fading forever.
Such a terrifying ability, completely wasted on those filthy dogs.
And now it was the only one he needed from the entire repertoire he'd collected from the mountain workers.
Maybe it was pride, maybe stupidity, but he hadn't wanted to use it.
He didn't think of any strategy as he ran straight toward that fading life. Serrated blades sprouted from his wrists. From his back emerged spines that spun with the precision of a scythe mowing through weeds. Without giving them time to breathe, Jarek propelled himself forward, unleashing a flurry of slashes, spinning and spinning in the air like razor blades in a blender.
The closest ones were pierced, while those trying to retreat were met with spikes erupting from the ground. Anyone who approached with harmful intent would be eliminated before they could even comprehend what had happened. His target was in front of him. A fragment of his biomass enveloped the Ultrath, firmly gripping its limbs. Jarek forced its jaws open and dug into its throat, down to its stomach. The Ultrath screeched as its stomach's contents were ripped out in one pull before it collapsed, dead, to the ground.
Paper, covered in all sorts of fluids Jarek preferred to ignore, was still breathing. Her ribs were piercing her organs, her horns and the rest of her bones shattered.
Broken, but alive. Barely alive.
Slowly, he enveloped her, covering her in a warm, viscous layer that pulsed and sensed the fractures and damaged organs. The substance seeped into her wounds, intertwining with her cells, stabilizing the most severe and deepest injuries. When he withdrew his biomass, Paper was covered in a wet glow, but her breathing was steady. Her body was restored, her bones strengthened, her wounds closed.
Jarek let out a sigh of relief and stood before the grotesque scorpions, their stingers raised, dripping green liquid as they clicked with hunger.
—¿Now, shall we continue?
The Ultraths responded with a roar that shook the air. Their legs tensed, and they launched like arrows. Jarek twisted his torso, raising a wall of hardened biomass just as the first charge crashed into it. The earth rose, dragged by the force, carving massive furrows in the ground and kicking up a screen of dust. The rest of the pack didn't hold back. Each one leaped at dizzying speeds, accelerating and changing direction every time they touched the ground. The tactic they usually used in hunts, meant to confuse prey and keep it from knowing when or where the strike would come, was in full effect.
Their numbers grouped into flying waves, leaping over one another, cutting through the air with their momentum, sacrificing the slowest to prevent the flurry of slashes from wiping them out simultaneously. The front lines were shredded by the biomass blades, torn apart in a burst of chitin and venom, but the second wave used the fallen bodies as shields and makeshift platforms to keep leaping, closing in faster and faster.
The sand was soon covered in fragments of legs, broken stingers, and green liquid that boiled upon contact with the earth. It was just a moment of distraction. Jarek couldn't react in time to impale one before its shell sent him flying several meters into the air.
Pain ignited in his torso like red-hot iron sinking into flesh, then spread in agonizing waves throughout his body. Half that damage would've been enough to turn him into a pink smear on the pavement when he was human. A fact that would leave anyone unwilling to continue the fight and risk ending up in a far worse state. But then…
¿Why couldn't he stop smiling?
Multiple tentacles sprouted from his back, wrapping around the first Ultraths that reached him. Using the momentum, he spun on his axis, forming a hurricane that dragged his captives along.
Inside, Andy kept pounding against the walls of her own body, feeling like a passenger strapped into a car hurtling toward a cliff. Her smile—that smile that wasn't hers—widened with every ignored scream. The hurricane of flesh and venom became a bloody blender, scattering chunks into the air like grotesque confetti.
In the midst of it all, for the first time since waking in this world, Jarek laughed. There was no irony or bitterness in it. It was clean, voracious, almost childish. A genuine laugh, not just a façade.
"Yes… this is what I wanted!"
The earth exploded, and from it emerged an Ultrath far larger than all the others combined. It was a disproportionate abomination. Its head took up nearly two-thirds of its body: a bulbous, gleaming, hardened mass with overlapping plates like shields extending to its neck. From that head sprouted monstrous pincers, large enough to crush a house in a single snap. Across its surface were glowing protrusions, like transparent glands pulsing and releasing pheromones in the form of greenish vapor. That breath was what kept the swarm in order, directing the waves like a commander issuing orders from the rear.
Roughly ten meters long.
Its legs, though fewer than those of common Ultraths, were thicker, ending in sharp hooks that sank into the earth with every step. Its stinger, instead of a simple dart, rose like a curved spear, dripping a corrosive liquid so thick it bubbled as it fell. Ecstatic,
Jarek didn't hesitate and leaped forward after hitting the ground. The giant exhaled its breath in bursts. The bodies of its soldiers exploded like balloons as Jarek tore through them.
"¡This is what I needed!"
Jarek felt alive. The horror that had tormented him just hours ago now seemed like a joke.
¡He wasn't trapped in this world, the world was trapped with him!
Even as the greenish vapor burned and melted his biomass, Jarek didn't stop. He climbed to the giant's jaws, which tried to throw him off by thrashing violently, creating small craters with each strike against the ground. It wasn't nearly enough to save itself. Jarek's biomass contracted and shot out like liquid spears, piercing straight into one of its eyes.
The massive beast screeched with a sound like shattering glass as the blue substance sank into its soft tissues. Inside the eye cavity, symbiotic filaments unfurled like roots. They coiled, pierced, and absorbed, extracting genetic material.
Jarek felt it all: the biological information flowing into him, encoded in rough sensations, metallic tastes, and instinctive swarm memories. And when there was nothing left to absorb, Jarek crushed the brain.
The order and hierarchy among the remaining Ultraths collapsed entirely. Within seconds, they all vanished, retreating to the underground tunnels they'd carved through the terrain.
Silence returned. biomass and Andy's melted skin, exposed for only a few seconds, began to regenerate. Jarek watched the clouds pass, breathing heavily. Not from exhaustion, but from the excitement still boiling within him. A new path opened before his milky-white eyes.
Maybe he couldn't do anything to save his aunt on that fateful day. Something he could never change.
¿So why not do something similar here?
Even within the walls, there were countless dangers that threatened or outright destroyed the lives of thousands, even millions, of people. What happened here was likely just the tip of the iceberg.
Hive minds lurking in underground tunnels, dangerous furballs that poisoned you with their mere presence.
Each and every one, waiting for someone to break their spines with a beating. He didn't need to be a hero, just an excuse to go and pummel any idiot looking for trouble.
—¡¡YES!! — he roared to the sky. — I know what I want to b—
A child's cry snapped him out of his intrusive thoughts. The few survivors were pointing at him, shouting incoherent curses despite the fact that he'd saved them from being devoured.
— Oh… I forgot about you, guys — Jarek said, scratching the back of his neck. — so awkward…
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¡Muffin here!
It took me a while to write the fight, especially since I had to rewrite it several times because I didn't like any of the versions.
The descriptions I came up with didn't convince me at all.
But I'm satisfied with the final result.
I want to take this opportunity to ask you... ¿How's the story going? ¿Are you enjoying it so far?
¡All comments are welcome!