Dozer: Version 2
The battle was over, or so they thought. The monstrous three-headed beast, Dozer, lay lifeless on the ground, its massive form slowly losing the heat of life.
The orcs, panting and bruised, gathered around their leader, Volk Mog'ger, their weapons still in hand but lowered, as the adrenaline of battle began to subside.
One of the orcs, his face smudged with dirt and blood, was the first to speak.
"Leader… by the spirits, if it weren't for you, we'd all be in that beast's belly right now!"
His voice was thick with relief and gratitude.
"You led us like a true war chief, showed us exactly how to fight that monster."
Another orc, a broad-shouldered brute with a long scar running down his face, nodded vigorously.
"Aye, I've never seen anything like it. You knew where to strike, when to fall back… it was like you could read our minds, Volk."
The orcs all began to chime in, their voices overlapping in a chorus of thanks and admiration.
"Without you, we'd have been scattered and picked off one by one."
"You gave us the strength to fight, Volk. You're a true leader."
"Lok'tar Ogar!" another orc yelled, lifting his axe in a salute.
Volk listened to them, a strange warmth filling his chest.
He had never been one for grand speeches or basking in the adulation of others, but there was something deeply satisfying about knowing he had led these orcs to victory, that they trusted him, relied on him.
Their gratitude was palpable, he could also feel their admiration were all sincere.
But then, one of the orcs, a younger one with a curious glint in his eye, stepped forward and asked, "Leader… How did you do that? I mean, how did you know when we were getting tired, or who was ready to strike, or who needed to defend? It was like you could feel what we were feeling."
The other orcs fell silent, turning their eyes to Volk.
The same question had been on all of their minds, but none had dared to voice it until now.
How had he known?
How had he led them with such precision, such insight?
Volk hesitated for a moment, his mind was thinking what to answer.
How had he known?
In the heat of battle, he hadn't had time to think about it, he had just… known. But now, under their expectant gazes, he searched for an explanation.
"I… I don't really know," Volk began, his voice uncertain at first.
"It's like… I could feel your energy. Not just your physical strength, but something deeper. Your… your green botanical energy."
He paused, realizing how strange the words sounded even as he said them.
The orcs exchanged confused glances. "Green botanical energy?" one of them echoed, scratching his head.
"I know it sounds weird," Volk continued, trying to explain it to himself as much as to them.
"But it was like there was this feeling I am familiar with the hazardous energy, like I could sense when one of you was about to falter, or when one of you had that burst of strength needed to land a decisive blow. I could feel your determination, your fear, your courage… all of it because of all the hazardous magic particles moving in your bodies."
The orcs stared at him.
They didn't fully understand what he was saying, but they didn't need to.
They had felt it too, in a way—this unspoken bond that had formed between them in the heat of battle.
"Well, whatever it was," the scarred orc said, breaking the silence, "it worked. You led us to victory, Leader Volk. That's all that matters."
"Aye!" another orc shouted. "Lok'tar Ogar, Leader Volk!"
"Lok'tar Ogar!" the others echoed, their voices rising in unison as they raised their weapons high.
Volk felt a swell of pride and solidarity as he joined in their war cry. "Lok'tar Ogaaaaaaaaaar!!!"
But just as the echoes of their triumphant shout began to fade, a cold chill swept through the cavern.
It started as a low, almost inaudible sound, but quickly grew louder—a laugh, twisted and filled with malice.
"Kekekekkekeke…"
The orcs' cheers died in their throats as they turned towards the source of the eerie sound, they could feel their blood somehow running cold.
The laughter grew louder, more manic.
"Kehahahahahaaha… it's been almost two years… I thought I would be thoroughly dissolved by that damn beast!"
The voice was filled with frustration and insanity, like the ravings of a man driven to the brink of madness.
Volk's eyes narrowed as he scanned the darkness, searching for the speaker. But what he saw instead was something far more terrifying.
Dozer, the massive three-headed beast they had just slain, was moving.
Its body, which had lain still in the dirt, began to twitch and convulse.
The orcs backed away in horror as the beast's muscles rippled and bulged, its three heads lolling to the side as if puppets on a string.
The once-ferocious eyes now stared blankly in every direction, as if no longer bound to the commands of a living mind.
"What… what's happening?" one of the orcs stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
The laughter continued, echoing off the cavern walls. "It's time… time for my rebirth!"
Volk's grip tightened on his axe as the beast's body began to rise, its movements jerky and unnatural, like a marionette being pulled up by invisible strings.
The air around them grew thick with a foul, rotting stench as the once-mighty Dozer was animated by a force beyond death.
"You see," the voice continued, now dripping with a sickening glee, "two years ago, I entered this cave along with other students of the Dogfiend Kingdom. We were foolish, arrogant, thinking we could defeat this descendant of Cerberus, this so-called Dozer. But we were wrong… oh, so wrong."
The voice took on a tone of grim nostalgia, recounting the horrors of the past.
"One by one, I watched my classmates fall. They were crushed, devoured, dissolved within this beast's stomach. The stench of death was unbearable, the pain unimaginable. I thought no one… no one could save me. I was resigned to my fate, my body and soul to be consumed by this monster…"
The orcs, horrified, continued to watch as Dozer's body fully stood up, towering over them once again. But something was different this time.
The beast's movements were more erratic, more savage, as if it were infected with some rabid disease.
Its three heads jerked and snapped at the air, its eyes rolling in its skulls, dead and vacant.
"But then… you arrived," the voice said, now laced with a twisted kind of gratitude. "You, the hazardous orc, and your little band of warriors. You saved me… you distracted Dozer just long enough for me to seize this opportunity. And now, now that I possess this body, I will show you my thanks… by devouring you all!"
As the voice finished its deranged monologue, a grotesque sound filled the cavern, a wet, squelching noise that sent shivers down the orcs' spines.
They watched in horror as the center head of Dozer, the one that had been in the middle of the trio, began to split open.
Kwashack!
Flesh and blood oozed out from the widening crack, the skin tearing apart as something emerged from within.
From the gory wound, a bloodied humanoid creature began to crawl out. Its form was twisted and malformed, its skin slick with gore.
The creature's eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, its mouth stretched into a grotesque grin.
"Ah?"
The orcs stepped back, their weapons at the ready but their hearts filled with dread.
This was no longer the beast they had fought and defeated.
They could feel that this was something far more terrifying, something that defied the natural order of life and death was coming out.
The creature finally emerged fully from the beast's corpse, standing tall atop the lifeless body of Dozer.
It was humanoid in shape, but its features were twisted and monstrous.
It had a long, spindly arm that ended in razor-sharp claws, its skin a sickly gray-green, covered in patches of matted fur and oozing sores.
The creature looked down at them with its glowing yellow eyes and let out a low, menacing chuckle.
"Thank you for saving me," it hissed, its voice dripping with malice.
"Thank you… for giving me the chance to be reborn in this glorious form. Now… let me show you the power of Dozer… Dozer Version Two."