CHAPTER 4: CAT AND MOUSE, DIVINITY AND BEAST

A monstrous shadow fell over Sun. He risked a glance back and a guttural cry of despair escaped him. The beast was practically on top of him, its hot, fetid breath washing over his neck. He could see the individual serrations on its teeth, each one long and sharp as a dagger.

With a guttural snarl, the creature swiped a massive, clawed forelimb. Sun, driven by sheer terror, threw himself to the side. The claws missed his torso by a hair's breadth, but one raked across his leg, tearing through flesh and sinew. A searing pain shot up his limb, and he stumbled, his momentum carrying him forward in a painful roll.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the fire in his leg, adrenaline masking the worst of the agony. The monster, seemingly amused by his pathetic attempts to flee, didn't immediately pounce. It circled him slowly, like a colossal cat playing with a terrified mouse. Its golden eyes never left him, filled with a chilling mixture of hunger and cruel intelligence.

Sun felt a wave of nausea. The pain in his leg was becoming a screaming chorus. He could feel warm blood soaking his trousers. This couldn't be happening. He, who had once commanded legions of celestial warriors, was now being toyed with by some overgrown lizard.

The beast lunged again, a feint. Sun flinched, expecting the killing blow. Instead, the creature nudged him with its snout, sending him sprawling. It repeated the motion, batting him around, its rumbles sounding disturbingly like chuckles. Each impact sent fresh waves of agony through his battered body. He felt ribs crack, his head connect with the hard ground.

"Damn you!" he gasped, spitting out a mouthful of blood and dust. "Damn you to whatever abyss spawned you!"

In a moment of perverse distraction, perhaps bored with its game or sensing his weakening state, the monster momentarily lifted its massive head, its gaze flicking towards a sound only it could hear in the distance. It was a fractional pause, a blink in the grand scheme of things, but for Sun, it was an eternity.

His eyes, wild and desperate, darted around. His hand, scrabbling in the dirt, closed around something hard and wooden – a thick, broken branch, likely from one of the dead trees. It was pitiful, a pathetic weapon against such a behemoth. But it was something.

With the last vestiges of his strength, a desperate surge born of pure defiance, Sun rose to one knee. As the monster turned its attention back to him, its maw opening for what was surely the final, crushing bite, Sun roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury and despair, and hurled the sharpened end of the branch with all his might.

He aimed for the eye. It was a ludicrous, impossible shot.

Yet, somehow, by some fluke of dying luck or forgotten divine reflex, the jagged wood struck true. It pierced the creature's left golden eye, sinking deep.