A Warrior’s Fall

The air was thick with tension as the abomination loomed over them, an enormous shifting mass of twisted flesh and writhing tendrils. Thousands of tormented faces bulged from its grotesque form, their mouths frozen in silent screams. The creature pulsed like a living nightmare, its very presence radiating despair.

The wasteland itself seemed to react, the cracked ground trembling as if recoiling from the abomination's sheer existence.

Riven wiped the sweat from his brow, his bone mask concealing the flicker of unease in his eyes. He adjusted his grip on his dagger, then turned to the others.

"No running this time," he said with a grin. "We bring it down."

Senna spun her spear, eyes locked on their monstrous opponent. "Let's make it quick before it grows stronger."

Dax cracked his knuckles. "Time to earn our rations."

Rolf took a deep breath and raised his crossbow, loading a heavy bolt.

Malachai, standing slightly behind them, remained silent, watching.

Then the abomination moved.

With an unholy screech, it lunged forward, its massive body surging like a tidal wave of flesh. A dozen tentacles lashed through the air, seeking to crush them like insects.

Senna struck first.

With a sharp breath, she dashed forward, her speed unnatural. She pivoted mid-stride and hurled her spear with devastating force. The weapon spun through the air before piercing deep into the abomination's mass, pinning part of it to the ground.

A guttural shriek tore through the wasteland.

The creature flailed, but Dax was already moving.

Roaring, he lunged with his twin cleavers, hacking through an incoming tentacle with brutal efficiency. Black ichor sprayed across the cracked earth as he severed the limb entirely. The abomination recoiled, its wound bubbling and reshaping grotesquely.

Rolf followed up, taking careful aim and firing a bolt into one of the shifting, screaming faces. The projectile struck true, but instead of dying, the face contorted in agony before melting back into the beast's flesh.

"Shit," Rolf muttered. "This thing doesn't have a weak point."

The ground trembled again.

Riven barely had time to react before a massive tentacle came crashing down toward him. With a sharp inhale, he sprang into action, leaping onto the limb before it could flatten him.

His boots slid against the slippery flesh, but he used its own momentum to propel himself upward. He jumped from one writhing appendage to another, rapidly ascending the abomination's towering mass.

"He's doing it again." Senna exhaled, watching him go.

"Crazy bastard," Dax muttered, carving through another tendril.

Riven moved like a phantom, dodging wildly as the beast tried to swat him away. His stilts gave him extra reach, letting him vault over swinging tentacles with ease.

Then, with one final leap, he shot toward the creature's head.

The bone mask on his face made him look like a vengeful spirit as he drove his dagger straight into its core.

The abomination shrieked.

Its entire body convulsed, the sheer force of its agony sending out a shockwave that hurled Riven through the air.

He hit the ground hard, rolling across the cracked terrain.

"Riven!" Senna called, barely dodging another flailing tentacle.

He groaned, staggering to his feet. "Ow."

The abomination, now enraged, **began to change.**

Its form twisted, growing larger, more chaotic. Countless new tentacles burst from its body, whipping violently through the air. The screams of the trapped souls within it grew louder, more tormented.

"This is bad," Rolf breathed.

Dax tightened his grip on his weapons. "If we don't kill it now, it's going to wipe us all out."

But their attacks weren't enough.

No matter how much they cut, pierced, or burned it, the abomination kept reforming, growing stronger.

Malachai watched it all unfold.

The others fought desperately, throwing their all into the battle.

And yet, something inside him told him it wouldn't be enough.

With a slow exhale, he stepped forward.

"Malachai?" Senna glanced at him mid-fight, panting. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he raised the rusted sword.

The moment he gripped it tightly, something stirred deep within him.

A presence. A whisper.

His lips moved in silent prayer.

A soft wind swept across the battlefield.

And then—light.

Brilliant, pure white light engulfed the sword, burning away its rust, revealing an ethereal blade untouched by time.

The others shielded their eyes.

"What the hell…" Dax murmured.

Malachai lowered the shining sword, his voice quiet yet resolute.

"…Be guided well into the afterlife."

Then, in a single heartbeat, he moved.

The earth shattered beneath his feet as he surged forward, moving faster than humanly possible.

He weaved through flying debris and flailing tentacles, his glowing sword cutting through the darkness.

Then, with a final leap, he soared into the sky, sword poised to strike.

The sunlight caught the blade, making it shine like judgment itself.

And then—it shattered.

The divine light flickered and died.

The rusted remnants of the blade disintegrated in his hands.

For a brief moment, everything stopped.

The others watched in horror as Malachai fell, unarmed, toward the abomination's waiting maw.

Senna's breath hitched.

Dax closed his eyes. "At least he looked cool."

But Malachai wasn't done.

Something awoke inside him.

The divine essence that had lain dormant in his veins ignited.

His scarf unraveled in the wind, revealing brilliant white hair that gleamed in the crimson light.

Without hesitation, he clenched his fist.

He could feel it.

Power surging through his body, crackling like lightning.

His eyes burned with something ancient, something celestial.

He raised his arm.

And as he fell—he struck.

The impact was cataclysmic.

The abomination exploded, its foul, twisted form obliterated in an instant.

Black ichor rained down like a storm, drenching the battlefield in filth.

Malachai landed in the wreckage, steam rising from his body. His breathing was heavy. His vision swam.

Something… was different.

Riven ran up to him, arms outstretched. "THAT WAS INSANE!"

Malachai took a step back. "Don't touch me. You're covered in abomination juice."

Riven grinned. "Uh… *so are you*."

Malachai frowned. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught something strange.

His hair.

It was no longer pure white.

A single lock had turned black.

He looked to the sky, expecting to see the heavens as he always had.

But there was no divine radiance.

All he saw was red.

Tainted. Impure.

For the first time since his fall… he felt mortal.

His vision blurred. His body collapsed.

—

Malachai drifted in darkness.

Memories flickered. Heaven. A voice whispering forbidden truths.

Then—emptiness.

—

"Oi, wake up already."

Malachai opened his eyes.

Riven's masked face hovered over him. He groaned. "You reek."

Riven flicked his forehead. The others laughed.

Dax grinned. "So… are you blessed by the angels too?"

Malachai hesitated.

Then, simply said, "Yes."

Riven, in the back, smirked.

That knowing, mischievous smirk.

Malachai threw a pillow at him.

Riven yelped, lost his balance, and crashed down from his stilts.

The whole tent erupted in laughter.

Even Malachai… let out a small chuckle.