The hooded figure stood upright, a sense of triumph in his demeanor as he placed his right foot firmly on Avery's chest. He applied increasing pressure, watching Avery's struggles for breath intensify as the ominous symptoms of the Shadow Loss Fever began to take hold of his body.
Avery's once familiar grayish-blue irises were rapidly changing as the sclera, the white part of his eyes, started to vanish. His pupils dilated beyond normal boundaries, expanding to consume his irises entirely. Within minutes, his eyes would mirror those of his sister and the other victims of the Shadow Loss Fever – utterly black.
His skin grew progressively paler with each passing second, while internally, he felt his very sense of self slipping away. Yet, amid these disorienting physical transformations, Avery remained resolute in his newfound singular focus – reuniting with his shadow confined within the canister and liberating Cassandra from her affliction.
"MarROW PuLSe aRRange SeVEN SeVENTh ToNe," the hooded figure intoned cryptically, his words remaining foreign to Avery's ears. Yet, even without comprehension, Avery recognized a mocking demeanor when he saw one.
Having been on the victorious side of countless battles, he knew what it felt like to taunt an opponent. Now, he found himself on the receiving end.
If art was beyond language, then taunting an opponent had to be a form of it.
Content with the punishment inflicted upon Avery, the hooded figure delivered a final blow, a swift and precise kick to Avery's jaw with expectations of knocking him out, and that seems to have been accomplished with how quiet Avery became afterward.
The hooded figure left Avery to succumb to the ravages of the Shadow Loss Fever, much like Cassandra before him, and went back into the kitchen.
Exiting through the kitchen window, which was his goal before the unwanted interference of Cassandra and Avery a moment prior, the hooded figure made his way to the precarious metal balcony on the other side of the building.
Once there, he peered six floors down to the ground below. His gaze then shifted a bit further along the suspended platform he was on. As expected, attached to the metal balcony was a retractable ladder leading to the floor directly beneath him.
Each floor in this building was equipped with a similar metal balcony and ladder, forming a precarious path to the ground. The hooded figure, however, had no fear or concerns as he strolled over to where the ladder was and grabbed it.
As the hooded figure prepared to pull down the ladder to enable his descent, Avery unexpectedly burst through the living room window, crashing into him. The rickety balcony extended from where the kitchen window was to halfway along the living room, providing Avery, who was supposed to be unconscious after the kick but wasn't with an opportunity he couldn't resist.
The hooded figure, caught off guard by the surprise attack, was propelled off the balcony, plummeting towards the unforgiving concrete below. Meanwhile, Avery acted swiftly after delivering the impromptu blow.
Avery hung precariously from the balcony, his body adorned with cuts and abrasions from breaking through the living room glass window without protection. Fortunately, the adrenaline coursing through his veins acted as a potent painkiller, drowning out the physical discomfort.
His rational self urged him to hoist himself to safety, where the grim consequences of the hooded figure's actions could be assessed. However, Avery, who felt a strong impatience, couldn't help but gaze down at the figure lying below on the unforgiving ground.
A triumphant smirk adorned his face, savoring the moment of having thwarted the mysterious figure's escape, and now he could get to safety.
"Alright, time to get to a proper position— hmm?" Avery muttered to himself, preparing to heed his advice. However, his elation quickly gave way to shock as he attempted to release his grip on the balcony's bottom railing, but his fingers refused to cooperate.
Avery's struggles mirrored a symptom of the Shadow Loss Fever, an uncontrollable detachment from one's sense of self which often results in the body acting autonomously.
Frustration washed over him as he wrestled with his rebellious digits, exerting force with his shoulders in a futile attempt to pry his hand's Vice-like hold of the bottom railing.
Blame and gratitude converged upon his years of rigorous boxing training. The same training that had endowed him with the strength to endure the precarious dangle from the balcony now rendered his fingers immovable. His physical conditioning had inadvertently become a barrier to his escape.
As if his plight weren't dire enough, the rickety and poorly maintained metal framework that held him began to emit an ominous creaking sound. Avery's heart sank as he identified the source – a rusted joint, perilously close to breaking apart.
In that harrowing moment, a flood of recollections washed over him, particularly Cassandra's admonition to steer clear of the balcony due to its state of disrepair. Regrettably, he had disregarded her caution this time, and the consequences loomed ominously before him.
"Come on, fingers, loosen up, or else this railing is going to break apart and with me on it" Avery yelled desperately, trying to force his fingers to open up, but his actions only worsened the situation as his constant flailing affected the joints even more.
Like one damaged joint wasn't enough, the one at the other side of the railing started to give out too, alarming Avery of its condition through the squeaking sounds made in that direction as the balcony shook.
Avery looked down to see the great distance he would fall if and when the railing eventually broke apart, then he looked at what was the hooded figure's lifeless body on the ground and his pulse raced.
He would surely die or at least break most of the bones in his body if he fell straight to the ground from this distance and at that moment his brain thought of all possibilities of ensuring or at least increasing survival.
Avery looked at his hand and knew he couldn't trust his fingers to save him as they were acting on their own, and so he came up with an idea. He could reduce the distance of his fall by landing on the balcony, the floor directly below.
Avery looked at the balcony a floor down and a couple feet away, then he started to swing his body to get enough momentum, so he would land there. He also hoped that the force of his swings would force his fingers to let go of the railing before the joints of the metal frame broke.
To his surprise, exactly that happened. Unfortunately, his fingers let go of the railing when his body wasn't at the right point of the swing to land on the correct balcony and so he fell.
Avery slammed his body into the side of the balcony two floors down, slightly slowing his descent as he fell onto the balcony on the third floor. As a result of the poor landing, Avery suffered a broken leg.
"Akk!" Avery cried in pain. His body had gone through an incredible amount of beating in such a short amount of time and, sadly, it looked like it wasn't yet over.
Just as he crashed into the balcony, so did the adrenaline in his veins, allowing him to feel every bit of pain in its intensity, and if that wasn't enough, the balcony he fell onto was in a worse condition compared to the rest.
Receiving his body weight the way it did destroyed the welding that locked the balcony to the side of the building and as a result, both Avery and the balcony fell off the building.
Avery and the balcony crashed into the balcony on the first floor, which broke that one from the wall too. Avery and both balconies fell to the ground in a massive crash that would have killed him if he hadn't been flung out of the metal trap and onto the concrete ground where he sustained even more injuries.
Moans and groans of intense pain were heard from Avery as he lay on the ground with blood spilling out of his many injuries. Just then, the crackling sounds, which were another symptom of the Shadow Loss Fever, started coming out of his mouth, making Avery realize how dire of a situation he was in.
He had to get his shadow back before he completely lost himself to the fever, but he was also in so much pain that he didn't know if that was what was keeping his sanity and sense of self intact for this long.
"Ah!" Avery cried as, with just his arms, he crawled over to where the hooded figure's unconscious body was on the ground.
The canister was right there but so was the covered face of the hooded figure who he thought was unconscious— hopefully dead. Since the hood was closer and required less effort to take off, Avery decided to pull the hood off the mysterious figure's head first.
Avery reached for the hood with his trembling hand and the moment the identity was revealed, Avery's eyes widened, murmuring "What the hell is this?"
Just like the phenomenon he experienced when hearing the hooded figure speak, this time it was like his eyes were playing tricks on him. What Avery saw was someone whose identity was blurred.
It was like he was looking at the previously hooded figure through a phone and a blurring filter had been applied to conceal the figure's identity. Not only that, but also the brightness was turned down.
What Avery was seeing was a darkened and blurry figure in front of him and nothing made sense as to how a phenomenon like that was even possible.
While he looked at the blurry figure, Avery's eyes caught a glimpse of his hand, seeing how pale his skin had gotten since he last saw it when he was dangling on the balcony, and he knew he didn't have time to understand why a being like that existed in his world.
He had to stop and revert his afflictions immediately.
Avery turned to the canister and pulled himself closer. He grabbed it and did a little assessing, wondering how to operate the unworldly gadget to get his and Cassandra's shadows out of it, but he couldn't understand.
As a desperate attempt, Avery starts smashing the device on the ground in hopes of breaking it and freeing the shadows stored inside. After the first two smashes and an attempt at a third, Avery was shocked when a hand stopped him.
"SaCKs ReD GraND GORRy" Avery heard next to his ear, causing him to cringe, and immediately he knew that the adversary who he thought was unconscious wasn't that at all.
Avery turned to the figure right next to him, vibrating with rage and disappointment but also desperation, and he yelled "You! Why the hell aren't you fucking dead yet?!"