9.Monster

The air shuddered.

It wasn't wind—there were no windows open, no airflows, no reason. But something vibrated around them, like the room itself was exhaling for the first time in centuries.

Alexander's body remained still, slumped in the floor.

But the 'eyes' had opened.

Not the ones on his face—those were glassy, lifeless. It was something else. Deep within the center of his chest, where the fragment had cracked open, a vertical slit of darkness now stared outward, lidless and unblinking.

Fri couldn't move.

Not from fear. Something deeper.

The sensation was like pressure inside his skull, like a scream held just below hearing.

"What… is that?" Goren hissed behind him, though his voice felt miles away.

From the slit, a pulse of shadow leaked outward—no, crawled. It peeled along the floor like a liquid with too many joints. It didn't chase them. It watched.

Then, it spoke.

Or something like it.

Not words, exactly. A noise formed from grinding metal, insect wings, static, and… voices. Hundreds of them. 

"You… can't… kill… me"

Alexander's body jerked—violently—bones cracking in places that shouldn't bend. Fingers stretched too far. His spine convulsed. His jaw hung loose, trembling like a puppet mid-seizure.

"Run," Fri finally breathed, it was too late.

The thing inside Alexander stood.

Not with grace or balance, but with intent. It dragged the body forward like a costume. Limbs extended at the wrong angles—his legs bending sideways, his fingers curling like talons. Something writhed beneath the skin, as though dozens of worms were puppeteering the corpse from inside.

"The plan has already begun."

The voice came from the hole in his chest, not the mouth. It echoed like a choir of rusted bells.

"Run!" Goren shoved Fri toward the window, they leapt.

Glass shattered around them as they crashed through the half-open frame, landing on the slanted rooftop outside. Fri rolled, scraping his palms against rough tile. Behind them, the room exploded in sound—wood cracked, metal groaned, something huge moved with impossible weight.

The creature didn't jump.

It crawled, slipping out of the shattered frame like smoke wearing a skin. Its limbs coiled and unfolded, gaining length as needed. Every movement it made seemed wrong—like a marionette controlled by something that didn't understand anatomy.

They ran across the rooftop.

Beneath them, the city of Cassio pulsed with indifferent life. Laughter. Lights. A world unaware of what had just woken.

"You think you can end me?"

The voice slithered through the night air.

"You're not even real yet!."

Goren glanced back—and froze mid-step.

Alexander's body split.

From his spine, new limbs erupted—sickly, root-like appendages tipped with bone. They whipped outward, cracking chimneys and clawing at the edge of the roof.

Fri grabbed Goren and yanked him forward.

"Move!"

They dropped to a lower ledge, then another, sliding down until they hit the alley behind the estate.

The ground cracked as the creature landed behind them. The fall should've shattered bones—but it absorbed the impact like water, flowing into itself before reforming.

And it laughed, not Alexander.

Something else, whatever was inside him.

They ran through the streets, ducking between markets, weaving past confused bystanders. People turned at the sound of destruction—but most saw nothing.

One woman looked right through the monster and asked, "Why are you running?"

She didn't see it.

But Fri saw her pupils dilate.

Her nose began to bleed.

Whatever it was—it could choose who could see it.

"Where are we going!?" Fri shouted.

Goren didn't answer.

From above, the voice echoed again:

"I was once like you. Then I saw the truth. You call it awakening. I call it shedding, they helped me see it and now you both try to make me not be able to see it again?."

"Do you feel it, little ones? You're next."

The night twisted.

Somewhere above, the stars flickered—one of them blinked out.

The city itself didn't notice.

People still walked the lantern-lit streets, bartering, laughing, arguing. But to Fri, every sound felt distant, muffled. Like they were underwater.

The thing behind them had no footfalls. No weight. It moved, and things broke. Tiles shattered. Brick warped. Lamps flickered out without wind.

Fri turned a corner and almost slammed into a group of young nobles exiting a tavern. They recoiled, startled by the sudden intrusion.

"What the hell are—?" one began, then froze.

Not at Fri. At Goren.

Blood poured from the noble's nose. His eyes widened in abject horror—but he wasn't looking at either of them. He was looking through them.

Then his knees buckled, and he collapsed without another word.

The others screamed. One tried to help him. The rest ran.

Fri gasped, ducking into a side alley. "Where the hell is safe from that?"

"Nowhere," Goren said. "But maybe we can slow it down."

Behind them, a market stall imploded. No explosion—just a sudden collapse, as though gravity forgot how to hold it up. People screamed, but no one chased the falling crates. No one chased them.

Only they could see it.

Only they could hear it.

Only they could finish it.

Goren shouted something—Fri didn't hear it. Not fully.

The air vibrated like an invisible swarm. The sky was unraveling. The stars flickered, distorted, as if the universe itself had interference.

"Run!" Goren shoved Fri toward a narrow street between two tall buildings that looked like they were breathing.

"Where the hell are we going?" Fri gasped, stumbling over a crate of crushed fruit.

"I don't know," Goren said. "But the city isn't staying the same. There are seams now. Doors that weren't there before. It's like we're inside a nightmare."

Fri looked at him, and Goren barely held his gaze.

"What if we actually are in a nightmare? What if what got activated back in the room wasn't real? Just like our trap."

Behind them, a window shattered. The scream that followed wasn't human. It sounded like wind, bones, and laughter.

They ran.

The street stretched—literally. The buildings leaned inward, warping as if curious. A streetlamp floated up, ripped loose by no wind at all.

The pavement shifted beneath their feet. From cobblestone to slick black tiles. Then to wet soil. Then stone again.

A side alley appeared where none had been before, opening like a wound between two pulsing walls. Inside, it looked like a black hole—endless and wrong. It was the only path forward.

And then Alexander—or what was left of him—emerged. His form was no longer even vaguely human, an anti-anthropomorphic thing that moved with certainty. It wasn't chasing them. It was reclaiming them. The two who had dared to kill it.

Without thinking, Fri grabbed Goren by the cloak and jumped into the abyss, no ther choice possible.

***

A room.

Silent, except for the faint wet sounds of a corpse beginning to rot.

Paintings lined the walls—each one depicting the same face. A large, ornate window cast pale light across the floor.

It was the first thing Fri saw when he opened his eyes.

He had been right.

They had escaped a nightmare.

"I'm surprised you made it out alive," a voice said, calm and amused. "I thought I'd have to pull you out myself if I wanted the fragment from that disgusting... lab rat. But it seems you're more capable than I gave you credit for."

Fri and Goren turned sharply.

In one corner of the room, a figure now stood—one neither of them had seen before.

It wore no face. Only the silhouette of a fitted black armor, like a shadow shaped into a man.

It gave the impression that it could kill them both without effort.

"What you saw was a manifestation of his mind," the figure continued. "His thoughts. His memories. Mixed with the desire to avenge his death. All of it created through the fragment you were seeking."

It paused. "Though I should say—it belongs to me now."

Neither Fri nor Goren spoke.

They could barely breathe. Cold sweat clung to their skin.

And yet, they understood instinctively that there was no room to object.

It was like a god had spoken a commandment—they could only be grateful to be alive.

"I'm fair," the figure said. "So, as a reward for your efforts, I've kept this room protected and made sure no one else entered.

And with that… I'll take my leave, gentlemen. After what I witnessed tonight, I expect great things from you both—once you awaken."

A pause. "Though there's still a bit left to do here before you do that, I trust you will figure it out."

Pink smoke began to pour from the space where the voice had come from.

A sound like a clown's nose echoed in the silence.

And the strange figure vanished, leaving them alone with the corpse.