Under the twilight of a false moon, a ravenous beast tore through the forest. A monstrous amalgam– stitched by vines and tar, a creature of nightmares. It had caught a scent from miles away; foul and pungent– yet familiar.
Ascendants.
Weak and frail, but more than enough to sate its everlasting hunger. Mist formed, then parted as it rushed deeper into the forest. Its red eyes bulged, threatening to pop out of their sockets, fixated on a singular location.
Elsewhere, Grey tore through beastly flesh. The boy was emaciated, from a single glance you could see his muscles cling to his bone. Grey did not mind the looks he was getting, he was preoccupied with gorging on meat. He did not hesitate to pick at it either. He tore it apart with his bare hands, all without shame as a group of Ascendants sat around him. The meal itself wasn't anything special. It was only a large spit roasted chunk prepared with spices.
'But it's not rotten. And there's no sludge.'
He had Angel to thank for the meal. She had taken pity on him and roasted a boar-like Nati for him. It was a favor that wouldn't go unpaid. He wiped the grease off his mouth with his forearm and gulped down a large chunk of pork. As he did, a thought drifted into his mind.
'Pork… are Nati even biologically related to anything outside the Spire?'
Grey sighed and straightened his back. There was no point in getting lost in thought right now. Half an hour ago, he had picked up something in their vicinity. A large mass, easily over twenty feet tall, was approaching. It rushed around the camp's perimeter as if it couldn't quite get inside. If Grey were alone, he would have panicked. Maybe even tried to take it head on.
Luckily, Grey wasn't alone. He was surrounded by Ascendants, all ready to spring up and fight at the moment's notice. Though he wouldn't have to rely on them. He had already played his cards afterall. Over the past few days, Grey deliberately scattered useless objects across the terrain.
'A counter to its nose.'
The mist that permeated across the thicket was also unnatural. It was threaded in between each branch carefully, hand woven by himself. Whenever something passed through the mist, the threads would hum like plucked strings, alerting Grey. A display of exovis and his most valuable counter against the enemy's movement and sight.
He hadn't told Tyr about their pursuer, but that was because he hadn't felt the need to before. It was also because he was too busy stuffing his face with food. However the situation had changed. The predator was edging closer to the camp, it had found out the mist's gimmick. Grey had underestimated its intelligence.
If the sound of the threads were an angelic harmony before, then all it was now is a chaotic cacophony. He could feel the vibrations of each thread being ripped apart as it surged throughout his own body. A gentle hum emanated from his bones. Drum beats were being hammered into his ears, and his balance was threatening to give out. There was no time left to waste. He called out to Tyr.
"We're under attack, get ready!"
By the time his words reached Tyr, the rest of the group had already dropped whatever it was they had been doing and equipped themselves. And then, a hideous mass burst through the camp's defenses. Its vines restraining any nearby object, spewing tar that melted anything it touched.
At the sight of the disaster, Grey clawed at the back of his neck, drawing blood. He gnashed his teeth; his own incompetence had borne this calamity. The beast, already having made its way through Grey's defenses, allowed him some sensory relief. But even if his body was functioning normally, his mind was unguarded. He clicked his tongue and leapt upwards: surging ten, maybe fifteen feet into the air.
Mist seeped out of his hands, moistening his palms. The scent of fresh dew released by the vapor put him at momentary ease. It reacted naturally as if it were a being of its own, and weaved itself into the shape of a sword.
Elegant.
Honed.
Brilliant.
A blade fashioned to slay the heavens; the Cloudpiercer.
A perfect fit for his hand. Grey gripped Cloudpiercer tightly as he soared above the terrain.
'At this height I'll be able to strike its midsection without putting myself into too much danger. Of course, that's not what I'm going for here. '
He was accelerating towards the amalgam at speeds not humanly possible, a simple perk of ascension really. He spun through the air with as much elegance as his blade; positioned on its flat, its ivory reflection shining the light of the faux moon into the eyes of the beast.
The moment the moonlight made contact with the amalgam's eyes, Tyler took initiative. Only mere seconds before, during Grey's call out, he ripped his anti-materiel rifle out of its case. He had neither the time nor the leisure to lay himself down and lock his scope onto his foe, thus he would gamble a shot at its head.
"All or nothin' damn it!"
He pressed down hard on the trigger which set off a chain reaction; the bullet escaping the barrel with a blast force equivalent to a missile. Alongside the projectile, Ariette sprung forward, her blades preparing to rend flesh. A barbaric axe whistling across the plane. It'd only be a matter of seconds before the decisive strikes made contact.
Despite the odds of its situation, the amalgam did not resign itself to fate. It retaliated in an instant, tar coated vines whipping out of where it's spine would be and deflecting Tyler's bullet. However only a second after Tyr's axe struck true, plunging into the depths of its horrific sludged body. Ariette's blades threatened to strike, however the amalgam had anticipated it prior to deflecting the first attack.
As she appeared in front of the beast; blades sticking out straight, she pierced the fearsome foe… Only it was not fazed. The amalgam's jaws extended and snapped shut abruptly, capturing Ariette in its jaws.
They had already bided their time however; Grey glided towards the beast and swung his sword swiftly. The Cloudpiercer's honed edge made quick work of the amalgam, severing it cleanly in half from its midsection, causing a sudden silence.
'That might've been overkill…'
A couple seconds later Grey dropped from the air and landed onto the ground, the top half of the amalgam's corpse accompanying him to the floor next to him. From inside of it, he heard a muffled voice. It was most definitely Ariette.
'Looks like she survived huh. Well, it's about time we set up camp somewhere else.'
Sighing inwardly he leaned over the severed corpse and plunged his hand into what should've been the creatures head. After a couple of minutes of desperately attempting not to tear off his arm due to the gripping force of the tar body, Grey finally pulled Ariette out of it's clutch.
"Welcome back to the land of the living."
He said, his voice stagnating with sarcasm.
***
As Grey vigorously scraped sludge and blood (if it could even be called that) of his Cloudpiercer, Angel decided to show her face. Watching Grey clean his weapon she sighed, and then narrowed her eyes upon him.
"Grey was it? How many Arks do you have and what are their properties?"
Upon receiving the inquiry Grey came to a halt.
"A what now?", He asked. Angel raised her eyebrows, seeming slightly more confused than Grey himself.
"Y'know, like the thing that generates vis?"
"I've never heard of such a thing, just what the hell are you talking about?"