Upon the village fell an atmosphere of dread because of the urgent call of the chief: "Naxons have been spotted on the surface! Everyone, to the underground shelters immediately!"
The villagers scrambled toward the reinforced underground bunkers with pale faces and hearts pounding in their chests. The makeshift shelters soon thickened with murmurs of worry and pounding feet.
The users of the Symbiote huddled together in close clumps, speaking to one another in hushed tones, almost whining from tension and fear.
"I cannot believe we're just going to sit here," one man argued, his tone cracking with determination. "A Naxon is on the surface. We should be up there fighting!"
A second voice, quivering with anxiety, spoke up: "Are you insane? We don't know anything about these monsters. This is a suicide mission."
Another voice no more than a whisper added, "We must hide. We have heard the destruction. Go up there will also make us casualties.
The ground shook with the rumble of a faraway crashing. The chief spoke again in gentle tones, trying to rally the frightened crowd: "We will rebuild. Safety is the priority now."
But one man, his face set in grim determination, exclaimed, "Enough! I've trained hard. My Symbiote and I are powerful. I'm going up."
A chorus of protests erupted from the other Symbiote users. "No! You'll get yourself killed!"
He gave no heed to their cries, storming towards the exit. "If I die, then it was meant to be."
The door to the surface sealed behind him, and the bunker settled into a series of uneasy silences. A few moments later, a scream pierced the air.
Individual terrors turned to panic as a figure was seen coming out of the bunker. "Where's Luca?" someone asked.
By this time, Luca was already up into the surface. As he came out, thick fog wrapped itself around him; he felt his senses heightened, his grip on his sword tight.
"Let's do this, Psyros," Luca said, resolution dripping from his voice. His outstretched hand compelled his energy to force its way through thick fogs. The mists began to lift and with them an unfolding landscape of desecration-the far-off menace of red lightning crackling menacingly across the sky.
When finally the fog lifted, Luca saw the figure of a small girl, no more than seven or eight years old, who stood all by herself amidst the rubble. His heart was racing with an urge inside him to be there immediately. He ran toward her, his odd, ragged gasps the only sound.
"What is your reason for being here?" Luca asked, his voice urgent. "We need to take you back to the bunker."
He reached out to her, but she didn't move, as if nailed to the spot. Her body suddenly started to contort and morph grotesquely. It grew into a towering monstrous figure with a featureless face, dark, elongated limbs, and a malevolent grin full of sharp jagged teeth.
Luca's eyes widened in horror as the creature's hand shot out, seizing him by the throat. In one brutal, lightning-fast motion, the Naxon bit off his leg and hurled him away. Luca's agonized scream echoed across the landscape of devastation.
"Don't worry, my boy," Psyros' voice echoed in Luca's mind, urgent and commanding. "You can regenerate. Channel energy into your remaining leg."
It hurt, oh Lord how it hurt, yet Luca focused, and with an inner burst he struggled to channel his energy into the severed limb. Within seconds, his leg reconstituted itself, and off he was running, sword drawn and ready for combat.
The Naxon loomed above him, a monstrosity of incredible strength. Luca steeled himself as the monster dove, its long hands tearing through the air with deadly, yet awkward force. Luca met his sword against the assault, yet the Naxon's strength proved too much.
"Stop using only your sword!" Psyros' voice was hoarse, laced with desperation. "You have to use all of your powers, or we are going to die here!"
Luca closed his eyes and attuned his senses to the Naxon's presence. He could feel its raw rage, its predatory intent. The Naxon charged again, and this time, Luca was ready for its every move. Before him, the creature loomed; its slicing sent him crashing into a tree.
"Focus, Luca!" Psyros shouted. "You're moving too slow!"
Luca slammed hard onto the ground but immediately received himself in the upright position. He held his hand out, his eyes focused. The power burst from Luca as the Naxon charged once more. Before him appeared a glimmering shield that absorbed the vicious attack the Naxon had launched. Fashioning physical barriers with sound proved crucial at this intense moment.
To this, Luca responded with revitalized energy, within the flash of steel that struck the hand of the Naxon in a blur of speed. The cut went deep, but then again, in the most unnatural manner, the hand of the creature started regrowing outward in an instant. The fight grew deadlier as the Naxon picked Luca up high in the air, impaling him in his stomach with a monster's hand, and then sent him flying with brute force.
"Get up, Luca!" Psyros yelled in his hoarse voice from desperation. "You can heal! Don't give up!"
By Herculean effort, Luca raised his hand onto his sword. The inflow of energy from Psyros poured deep into him, and in a surge he launched a huge beam of light with the force of a small explosion that struck the Naxon. Thrown backward by the shockwave, it let out a deafening roar and then hunched its shoulders to charge at Luca once more.
It attacked with blinding speed, its roar loud. Luca snapped his fingers, harnessing the sound into an invisible barrier wrapping around the creature. The Naxon was furious, though it could do little other than swing its head within the said barrier since it had been trapped, furious.
He took a step towards the Naxon, his expression grim. "You're making so much noise," he said coolly. "Let's see how you like silence."
With that, Luca took his decisive move and pressed the head of the Naxon, the pressure growing unstoppably. Soon after, his body lay splayed in the pool of his own blood, weakly wrestling until eventually falling silent.