CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Flesh to Dust

The titan serpent loomed ahead, a crimson shadow against the smoke-choked sky, and panic ripped through us like a blade. Civilians who'd fought beside us, some clutching scavenged spears, others standing with guards and chainrunners, broke first, bolting in wild terror. Some scrambled into the reinforced building behind the barricade, shoving past each other to reach the cramped safety where the rest of District 97 hid. Others ran outward, scattering into the ruined streets, legs pumping in blind desperation.

"Fools," Lirien muttered, her voice sharp as she drew the bowstring taut. "Where are they running to? They will only be eaten by other beasts out there."

She wasn't wrong. Harsh, maybe, but true. Beyond the barricade, beasts still prowled, waiting for stragglers. We couldn't stop those runners, couldn't drag them back. Blaming them felt pointless too, what else do you do when annihilation stares you down? This thing, kin to dragons, a Crimson horror, made us all feel half-dead already, its heat pressing against us like a promise.

I knew death wasn't permanent for me, not fully. But these people, the chainrunners, the link to District 96's batteries, would cut a lifeline I couldn't ignore if they fell. So I stood there, fists clenched, watching the ones who didn't run. They lined the barricade, shoulder to shoulder: guards, chainrunners, even civilians who'd grabbed spears or swords from the fallen. Their hands shook, knuckles white, but their eyes burned, fixed on the beast. Determination, fierce and final, like they'd already accepted the end but wouldn't go quiet.

It struck me, that split in people. Chaos hit, and you either broke or hardened, with no in-between. Panic or resolve, nothing soft about it. I envied the ones who stayed, their grit holding them up when mine wavered.

"What should we do?" a guard beside me croaked, his voice thin, spear wobbling in his grip as he stared at the serpent's coiling mass.

"Pray," Gustav replied, cold and flat, his arm braced against a splintered plank, blood crusting his sleeve. "Make peace with your God if you've got one."

His words brushed them, sinking in slow. A few heads dipped, lips moving in silent pleas, acceptance creeping over their faces like frost. Lirien stood still, bow raised, but her gaze drifted, lost in the smoke.

Mateo leaned nearby, mace dangling from a slack hand, cuts leaking red down his arms. He was fading, barely able to swing. The guard captain was long gone, dead to the hordes that'd torn through earlier, and with him, many of District 97's strongest, their bodies strewn among the rubble, lost to claws and teeth.

"Then what?" Lirien said, voice hollow as she adjusted her grip. "Nothing's changed, we hold the line and slay the beast."

Lirien's words rang hollow in my ears, empty of the fire she usually carried. It felt like she'd already surrendered inside, or couldn't scrape together a plan to face this thing, which I couldn't fault her for. No matter how fierce you fought, how deep your determination ran, human wits only stretched so far.

This was how districts ended in the past, breaches tearing through, beasts flooding in until nothing stood, and this, staring at that serpent, felt like the same doom waiting for every district still clinging on. Wards would fail one by one, crumbling under the fog's weight, until the last light snuffed out. It wasn't just here, not just now, it was the future, inevitable, creeping closer with every crack.

"Kara," I said aloud, voice steady despite the noise, "tell me there's a way to beat this thing. If I distract it long enough, can we shoot it down?" No one cared who I was talking to, not now, not with that serpent closing in.

[Kara]

[Data on Crimson beasts, especially rarities like this titan serpent, is thin in Araksiun records, but based on heat emissions from the beast, its mere proximity to the barricade will render many unconscious; prolonged exposure means death. That's if it doesn't attack. If it does, death's faster.]

"What?" I muttered, low enough that only I heard. Its presence alone could kill us? That was dragon-kin power—beyond anything I'd imagined. Despair clawed at me, a cold shiver deep inside, but it didn't stick. Something shifted: fragments of fear tore away, replaced by a sharper edge from my mind's depths, honed out there in the fog. Calm settled in, practical, almost bestial.

The serpent wasn't waiting, but it didn't rush either. It savored us, slithering forward with a predator's patience, coiling through the streets like a living noose. Its body, thick as a wagon, scraped against buildings, leaving charred streaks where jagged edges met stone. Ember-like patches glowed, flaring with each twist, and the ground beneath it blackened, cracks spidering out as heat warped the earth. Metal warped too: cart frames and spear tips along its path glowed red, softening in the aura radiating from its hide. The air thickened, hard to pull into my lungs, and sweat stung my eyes.

I wiped my face, glancing at the barricade. Faces flushed red, some swaying—Lirien's jaw tight, Mateo's cuts glistening with sweat. "We can't fight near them," I thought. "They won't last, not against this heat, not when it attacks." My ice, my coat, it'd hold longer. But not long enough.

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I didn't have time to weigh it. The serpent's fire maw gaped, one of its three, effortless and cruel, and a torrent of flame erupted, rushing us with a roar. I snapped my Shardbound Bracers active, mana surging into them, but the shield flared small, too tight to cover the barricade.

People screamed, ducking low. I shifted fast, ice blooming around me, mist swirling thick and cold, a mirror to the beast's heat aura. I pushed it out, meeting fire with frost. The clash hissed, steam bursting where flames hit, ice crystallizing on nearby walls only to melt in seconds. I poured more mana in, straining, holding the line.

The fire stopped, not a full assault, barely a flick from the beast, but the damage sprawled wide. Flames licked the surroundings: wood smoldering, stone scorched and those too far from my ice crumpled, charred black, skin peeling in the heat. A chunk of our line gone, just like that, and my mana dipped hard, chest heaving. The bracers' barrier had blocked what hit me direct, but they'd burned out—five minutes to recharge, useless now.

"I can't fight and protect them," I said under my breath, legs tensing. I leaped high, away from the barricade, landing in a crouch on a cracked street. Ice blades formed, twenty at once, sharp and glinting, hovering around me. I flung them forward, aiming for the titan's bulk. It was too big to miss, a wall of scales and heat. They struck true, every one, but the beast's aura melted their edges mid-flight. They hit soft, scraping its hide, shattered glass and ember patches—leaving faint scratches, nothing more.

I growled, focusing harder. Three ice spears took shape: long, thick, trembling with the will I forced into them. Mana strained my skull, but I launched them, one after another. The serpent's tendrils twitched, ember-eyes swiveling. One maw snapped, snagging a spear mid-air, crushing it. The whip-tail lashed, smashing the second into shards. The third hit, piercing its side, sinking into the molten-stone flesh. A thin wound, barely a nick, but I pushed, willing the ice to spread.

A deep chuckle rumbled from its strike maw, mocking. The fire maw bit down, ripping the spear free, and a blast of flame seared its own wound, sealing it shut, erasing my mark. But it worked, those ember-eyes locked on me, the massive head turning. It slithered my way now, away from the barricade, coils grinding stone to dust, heat rolling ahead like a wave. I'd hooked it, bought them time, and stood my ground, ice mist curling around me.

The titan serpent shifted, its ember-eyes glinting, and then its third maw gaped wide. A hissing sound slithered out, sharp and grating, clawing at my mind until every other noise—screams, fire, the barricade's creak, faded to nothing. Runes flickered in the air, faint gold pulses, quick as breaths, shimmering with a weight I couldn't deny. Whispers followed, soft at first, curling into my ears like smoke, "You failed us, Omen," "Look what you've done," threading through my thoughts, relentless.

Voices I knew broke through, loud and bitter. Faces materialized from the smoke, those people from District 98, years back, who'd beaten me bloody on the streets, sent me into that first long sleep. Their scowls twisted with scorn, spit flying as they snarled, "You brought this ruin," "The lower districts were destroyed because of you." A child appeared too, small and furious, clutching a stone she'd once thrown at me, her voice a high shriek, "Monster!" The whispers grew, overlapping, "Failure," "Cursed," "You'll kill us all," a chorus gnawing at my skull, straining every nerve.

I blinked, chest tight, trying to shake it. Then Meris stood there, not safe in District 98 but here, steps from the serpent's path. "Omen, please don't let me die," she begged, voice cracking, eyes wide with terror. The whispers swelled, "She's yours to lose," "Weak," "Too slow," pounding in my head. The fire maw yawned open, heat shimmering, and a blaze roared toward her. I didn't dodge, couldn't. Mana surged into my ice, coating me in a frosty aura, muscles screaming as I leaped into the fire's path, racing to reach her.

The heat hit like a wall, searing even through my ice. Breathing turned impossible, each gasp scorching my throat, skin blistering beneath the frost I strained to hold. Whispers hissed louder, "You'll fail her too," "Burn with her," and my mana drained fast, pouring into the aura just to keep me standing. I didn't care. Meris was there, I had to get to her. But the fire's force shoved me back, feet sliding on charred stone, and I stumbled, helpless.

She screamed, a sound that cut deeper than the heat. Flames swallowed her, slow and vivid. Skin bubbled, peeling away in black strips, her arms flailing as she fought it. Her face contorted, melting into a mask of agony, then collapsed inward, flesh gone, bones charring black. They held a moment, stark against the fire, then crumbled to dust, scattering on the wind. The strike maw clacked, a guttural laugh, while the third hissed on, runes pulsing brighter, "See what you've lost," "All your fault."

"How could Meris be here?" I rasped, voice raw as my body knit itself back, Life Magic stitching skin, muscle, tissue over burns that still smoked. The whispers didn't stop, "She's gone," "You let her die," grinding at me. My mind library churned, tearing fragments loose, fear, guilt, replacing them with cold shards, then ripping those out too, cycling over and over. It wanted focus, an edge, but the voices kept splintering me, "Weakling," "Murderer," a storm I couldn't silence.

Then it clicked, a flicker in the light—too sharp, too staged. Illusions. These people were in District 98, not here. Meris was safe, not ash. I should've seen it sooner, but that hissing, those runes, they'd warped me, flared my emotions, drowned my reason in rage and grief. Her screams echoed, illusion or not, etched into me, a wound I'd carry. The whispers laughed, "Fooled you," "Break again."

The fire maw opened, and Elina appeared in its path, pleading, "Omen, save me!" Heat surged, flames licking closer. The whispers taunted, "Another one," "Watch her burn," but pain stabbed my chest, and I sidestepped, dodging the blaze. She shrieked, writhing as fire took her—too slow, dragging out every cry, every twist of her burning form. I clenched my fists, jaw tight, knowing it wasn't real, refusing to leap this time.

This beast, I'd lost it in the chaos. It wasn't just power, not just heat and fire. Past Onyx, it had mastered something deeper, the second rule woven into its being. That was its strength, bending reality, breaking minds. The third maw hissed again, runes flaring, and Jharim flickered into view, staring me down with cold eyes. "You'll fail us all," he said, voice flat, while the whispers chanted, "Worthless," "End it."

But I saw it then, clear through the fog of voices—the second rule, its shape in my mind. Understanding snapped into place, and anger flared, hot and deep, simmering in my bones. I glared at the serpent, its coils grinding stone, its maws mocking me. Dragon-kin or not, this thing, this Vyrithax, had to die.

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