Brer'yuth

Michael looked at the Spirit- no, the monster that towered over the ship and couldn't feel anything but an all-consuming dread. In his short life, he saw not so many things that could scare him, mostly because he knew that there was nothing supernatural in the world. All the horror in the world was created by people for other people. But this thing... that wasn't some cheap prop from a B-rated movie. That abomination was an evil sea Spirit.

Michael had already felt something similar when he fought the silver not-horse. But if you compare these two, then this Spirit was much more dangerous. Last time, Michael got away with only a broken arm, and was able to kill - he's dead, right? - Gotl with a couple drops of water. Now he doubted that he would be so lucky.

Brer'yuth raised his hands to the sky, and smashed them to the turbulent sea. Waves rose into the air and quickly approached the ship. "Waterbenders!" Smollett shouted and that was enough to get people moving.

Michael, Han and Khan stood at the edge of the ship and threw their hands forward. The water in front of the ship rose and rushed in response to the attack of the Spirit. The two waves collided with each other and fell into the sea, but the force from the collision still rocked the ship.

"Load the cannons! That should slow him down!" Smollett screamed. "To arms! There's no escaping from him, so we die fighting!"

The sailors began to load the cannons while Michael watched the Spirit in the sea. His overly thin neck was an obvious weak point. Far too obvious weak point. But if video games have taught him anything, it's that obvious weaknesses are the best. Unfortunately, the Brer'yuth didn't have a huge red gem in the middle of its chest to hit, but a thin neck would be a sufficient substitute.

"Khan." Khan turned towards Michael with a raised eyebrow. "I'm going to do something really stupid. Get my body out of the water, if anything happens." He knew he could stay on the ship and just wait for Brer'yuth to get closer, but with arms like his, he could just tear the ship in half. Then he will be lost at sea with no way to return to land.

The brothers did not have time to answer, as Michael jumped from the side of the ship into the air. Behind him, someone was shouting, but he ignored it. A tornado of water rose up from the sea at his feet and lifted him higher and higher until he was level with Spirit.

"Now that I look at you, you're one ugly fucker." Michael muttered.

Spirit's face - if you can call it a face - lookedd more like a drawing of a schizophrenic. Small, deep-set eyes surrounded by an additional three pairs of smaller eyes. In its outstretched mouth, the teeth were sharp and long, about the size of an adult, and it didn't have a nose. Brer'yuth's neck was completely hidden behind his head, but Michael had a couple of ideas on how to get the Spirit to move.

"Fuck, this is stupid…" Michael groaned and began his plan.

Brer'yuth looked at Michael like one looks at an annoing fly, he waved his hand and smashed his water tornado, but was surprised when his victim was left hanging in the air. Michael thought that his staff broke at the very wrong time, because it was too hard to keep the water in the air along with his body. 'Now I understand why only Airbenders occupied the airspace. It's fucking hard.'

The tornado recovered and Michael began to circle around the Spirit, sending air blades into his body. Brer'yuth finally looked up from trying to sink the ship with the waves and turned to Michael, which turned out to be a mistake. The cannonballs hit the Spirit's side one after the other, causing him to step aside from the force of the impact.

'Huh, that did something? I thought he would be sterdier.' Brer'yuth growled in rage and turned back to the ship. "Shit."

The wind in Michael's hands quickly took the form of a ball and he threw the ball at the Spirit. The Rasengan dug into Brer'yuth's flesh and exploded into hundreds of aerial blades, but the wounds were shallow at best. The spirit roared in pain and clutched at its shoulder. His head jerked towards Michael, turning so far that anyone else would have broken their neck.

"You dare?!" The Spirit roared and Michael nearly fell into the sea. 'This shit can talk?!'

"You dare oppose me?! The Spirit that keeps the sea in balance!" Brer'yuth focused on Michael as if seeing him for the first time. "I see. Now I see. Nature itself wants to get rid of you. You are an infection that has settled deep in the wounds, you need to begone."

The arms of the Spirit split into tens and hundreds of long tentacles and surrounded Brer'yuth's body like a wall of flesh. "Ah. There's the Lovecraftian horror." Michael didn't stay still and immediately let go of the water that surrounded his body. The man fell into the water like a stone, avoiding a series of quick tentacle attacks - "Gods, that's just wrong." - from the Spirit, and responded with one strong blow of air to open a passage in Brer'yuth's defenses.

Without his glider, Michael couldn't control his flight as well, so he had to replace it with air blasts against his own back. The tentacles continued to follow him like homing missiles, missing by a hair's breadth.

He wasn't sure if physical attacks would do anything to the Spirit, he only knew parts of the plot of "The Legend of Korra" and that the main motherfucker merged with Vaatu and was defeated by the power of bullshit. He knew interesting places where the main parts of the plot took place, but he couldn't remember if it was possible to kill the Spirits with physical attacks.

"Ah, wait, Zhao could… But its main body was in the Human world." Michael almost flew through the wall of tentacles and got far too close to Brer'yuth's body when he realized one simple truth.

He was fucked, but at the same time, he wasn't.

The body of Brer'yuth was, oddly enough, in the Human world. Wherever the Spirit went, the storm followed. He was the cause of the biggest and most violent storms on the water, but at the same time, he didn't have the ability to manipulate any element. His huge body allowed him to create tsunami, whirlpools and even hurricanes, and when this could not sink ships, he simply tore them apart with his bare hands.

And right now, Michael was too close to those hands - even if Brer'yuth changed their shape. Of course, he could try to rip a passage in the Spirit's chest and exit on the other side, but there was a wall of tentacles waiting for him there. Without even thinking, he stupidly burst into his opponent's domain and decided that he could kill him with his abilities, completely forgetting that he isn't a superhero of some shitty fanfic and he doesn't have plot armor.

"Yeah, I'm fucked."

Throwing his arms forward, Michael released two blasts of air and his body ached from the overload. He felt his brain turning to jelly, but he continued to do deadly maneuvers in the air, avoiding the tentacles and tried to create distance between himself and the Spirit.

Flying back, Michael gathered a stream of air around his index and middle fingers, compressing and wrapping the air into a ball. 'The Rasengan didn't do shmuck to that asshole, which means I need to use the techniques I created to break through heavy armor. His body is too big to force the air out of his lungs and I can't drown him. Fuck, I can't even use pseudo-firebending in this political climate!' He stopped for a second. 'The fuck was that thought…?'

Brer'yuth leaned back, his tentacles tilted along with his huge body, and threw his arms forward, mimicking Michael's movements from moments before. Hundreds, if not thousands of tentacles charged forward at incredible speed, giving Michael no time to react.

Hundreds of thin tentacles pierced his body, piercing his lungs, liver, kidneys, and only miraculously missing his heart. He knew that once Brer'yuth released him, he would bleed to death in less than thirty seconds. The water that was keeping Michael airborne fell lifelessly into the water along with the rain, and his wind was carried away along with the storm. He couldn't sustain his Bendings with such wounds, even if he were God.

'It hurts…' Memories began to flash before the teenager's eyes, but he could not make out any of them. Michael coughed up blood and looked into the eyes of the Spirit who lowered his defenses and stared back at him.

"Nature will be pleased with the offering. Know, man, your death will be the greatest blessing for our world."

Michael coughed again and grabbed one of the tentacles, his fingers dug into the Spirit's flesh, tearing at the thick skin.

"You know… What's the advantage of being a Bloodbender?" He asked weakly, doubting that the Spirit would hear his voice through the strong winds. Brer'yuth didn't react, which was understandable. Most Spirits didn't care about human affairs, even if they were strong enough to threathen them. But Michael didn't care what the damn Spirit was thinking either, so he continued talking. "I can control more than just other people's blood."

The blood from Michael's wounds slammed around the tentacles like guillotines, sharpening the stumps inside his body. His hand dug deeper into the flesh of Brer'yuth and he began to pump fresh air through the Spirit's bloodstream.

Michael noticed that Brer'yuth had been bleeding since the start of the battle, and that he had a slim chance of killing the bastard with Bloodbending. But he couldn't just get close to the Spirit, because it would be a suicide attack. So he bet everything on his luck and decided to take a hit in a near-suicide attack.

"Loki... give me strength." Michael muttered, hoping that his knowledge of anatomy, Bloodbending, and Healing could support his body long enough. He could heal such wounds only using his water form - because how else he could name the form when his body turnes into water?

Brer'yuth howled in rage and pain, and threw Michael towards the ship. It was evident that the Spirit felt that something was wrong with its body, but it couldn't understand what. 'One of the perks of being a reincarnator - knowledge…'

Michael cut through the air like an arrow and entered the water like a stone, because right now he was hardly human. His wounds burned, and consciousness eluded his grasp. So he focused on his punctured innards and tried to get rid of the blood that was pooling in dangerous places.

The corners of his vision began to darken as soon as he felt himself being pulled upwards. Michael's body was lifted inside a ball of water and carefully lowered onto the side of the ship. But he could no longer resist and closed his eyes.

"Spirits, how is he still alive?!"

'I won't last long, I need to figure out how I can live long enough to be healed completely. First, the wounds didn't touch the internal organs.' Michael's arms and legs froze in place and slowly turned into water, closing his wounds and stitching his muscles back together.

"What the… Fuck, is he even human?" That was Han or Khan, Michael couldn't tell which.

"Don't care about that! Look at Brer'yuth! He's retreating!" Shouts of joy rose through the storm, but were drowned out by Smollett, who was already barking new orders.

'Now the first test: can I push foreign objects out of my body?' His lower abdomen turned to water and three severed tentacles fell to the deck at once. Michael howled in pain as he felt his intestines moved and were healed, but he couldn't stop the treatment. The rain had given him enough water to close his wounds, so he continued.

Wound by wound, organ by organ, he treated each problem in his body very slowly, so that they would not open up in the near future. Michael could still hear the sailors running around the ship, trying to weather the storm that was already ending. Fortunately, he was left alone with his problems, so he could finish his task in peace.

Once the last wound was closed, Michael let out a long sigh and passed out with the thought: 'Even if that freak comes back, I won't fight him, it'll be easier to fuck off.'