Pain was a symphony.
The broken leg was the deep, constant bass.
The shattered ribs were high, shrieking violins with every breath.
But beneath it all, the idea—the final gamble—was a lone, lucid melody.
The beast, blind in one eye and maddened by pain, continued tearing the store apart. An animal in a trap. Its fury had made it stupid. It was no longer hunting.
Only reacting.
Artur had to get out.
He began to crawl.
Every movement was a masterpiece of agony. He used the axe as an anchor, driving it into the floor and hauling himself forward, the useless leg dragging behind him. The sound of his body scraping across broken glass was swallowed by the beast's destruction.
He reached the entrance.
The street beyond looked like a distant paradise.
He could see the overturned car just meters away.
The ramp.
He dragged himself out of the store—a ruined creature of blood and will.
The second Alpha saw him, roared, and turned to force its way back outside, movements clumsy with rage.
Artur had no time.
He kept crawling.
He reached the rear wheel of the overturned vehicle—the lowest point of the incline.
He braced himself, breath coming in ragged, blood-laced pulls. He looked at the beast now emerging into the street, turning to face him. The ruined eye was a hollow pit of darkness.
It lowered itself for the final charge.
This was it.
Using only his good leg and his arms, Artur began to climb the overturned car. Oil from the ruptured engine slicked the metal surface. His hands slipped. His ribs screamed so violently he nearly blacked out.
He climbed anyway.
He reached the top—the car's exposed undercarriage now serving as his platform. He balanced precariously on one knee and one hand, the axe clenched in the other.
Three meters above the pavement.
The beast saw him.
It didn't understand the maneuver. It only saw wounded prey elevated above it.
With a roar of triumph, it charged.
Artur waited.
The creature lowered its head for the killing blow—
exposing the nape.
The same vulnerable junction he had exploited before.
Now.
With the last explosion of strength left in his body, Artur threw himself from the car.
It was not graceful.
It was a desperate fall—a broken body hurled at its target.
For one suspended second, he hung in the air.
A fallen angel against a purple sky.
He and the axe descending together.
He crashed onto the creature's broad back with an impact that nearly shattered him. Pain detonated through leg and ribs—a white supernova.
He did not release the axe.
He was in position.
The monster, stunned by the unexpected weight, froze for a fraction of a second.
Artur did not grant it another.
He lifted the axe—not with his arms alone, but with the forward collapse of his entire body. He aligned the blade with the base of the skull.
He did not drive it down.
He let gravity decide.
The combined weight of man and steel fell with terrible finality.
The sound was the same.
A deep, wet crack.
The second Alpha went rigid.
Its colossal frame trembled once—
then collapsed.
Artur fell with it, rolling off the massive carcass and onto the asphalt. He landed on his unbroken side, head striking the pavement.
He lay there beside the two leviathans he had slain, chest heaving, blood spilling from half a dozen wounds.
He turned his gaze to the street.
The third Alpha stood there.
The last of them.
It had witnessed everything.
It looked at the bodies of its fallen kin.
Then at the broken shape of Artur sprawled on the ground.
Artur met its gaze.
He tried to lift the axe.
There was nothing left.
He had won.
He had defeated the immune response.
But the victory had hollowed him out.
The third Alpha watched him for a long moment.
Then, in an act that defied the logic of that place—
it turned.
And began to walk away.
Not retreating in fear.
Something else.
Respect?
An understanding that the cost of killing him would be too high?
Artur did not know.
He only watched as the last beast vanished down the street, leaving him alone with the dead.
At last, the pain overtook him.
Darkness rose to meet him.
The world dissolved.
He had survived.
He did not know if that counted as victory.