The chaos was unbearable.
Alina's feet pounded against the cracked pavement as she ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her heart hammered in her chest, her body trembling with terror. Blood streamed down her legs and arms from a dozen shallow cuts, her pale skin slick with sweat and grime. The air was thick with the screams of the dying, the roar of abominations, and the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart. Alina's mind was a blur of panic, her vision hazy as tears stung her eyes. She couldn't stop crying.
"No—no—no, please, please, not like this! I don't want to die!" she sobbed, her voice barely audible over the chaos.
Her feet stumbled over the debris-strewn ground—broken glass, splintered wood, the twisted remains of weapons and metal—but she kept running, her vision swimming as more bodies fell around her.
To her left, a player screamed as one of the merged soldiers—a grotesque fusion of a medieval knight and a machine gun—bore down on him. The abomination's left arm was a massive cannon, fused to its shoulder with metal spikes, while its right arm held a medieval flail, the chain fused into its skin. It roared as it swung the flail, the spiked ball crashing into the player's head with a sickening crunch, splitting it like a ripe fruit. Blood and brain matter splattered across the ground as the player crumpled, lifeless.
To her right, another player was being ripped apart by a creature that had once been human but now resembled a mass of writhing, serrated blades. Its torso was twisted and elongated, its mouth a gaping maw of metal spikes, and its arms were nothing more than jagged scythes. It tore through the player's body with ease, slicing flesh from bone, the sound of ripping meat and cracking bones filling the air. The player's screams were cut short as the abomination's scythe-arm plunged into his chest, ripping out his heart with a spray of blood.
Alina stumbled, her breath catching in her throat as she watched in horror. Everywhere she looked, players were being butchered, their bodies torn apart as the abominations rampaged through the streets.
"I don't want to die!" she screamed, her voice raw, her legs burning as she forced herself to keep running.
But then, it happened.
A loud crack echoed through the air, and Alina felt a sudden, searing pain in her back. She gasped, stumbling forward as her vision blurred. Her hands reached behind her instinctively, but all she felt was wet, sticky blood. A large, gaping hole had opened in her back, the flesh torn apart where the bullet had struck.
She collapsed to her knees, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as blood poured from the wound. Her body trembled violently, her vision dimming as the world around her spun.
"No… please… I don't want to die…" she whispered, her voice weak, her tears mingling with the blood that pooled beneath her.
And then, with one final, shuddering breath, Alina's body slumped forward, her eyes wide and lifeless. Blood continued to flow from the massive hole in her back, pooling around her corpse as the chaos raged on.
Kael arrived just in time to witness Alina's body hit the ground. His heart stopped, his eyes wide with disbelief as he saw the gory hole in her back, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the sky.
"No…" Kael whispered, his voice trembling.
Rage boiled inside him, his usual lightheartedness gone, replaced by a fury that burned hotter than anything he had ever felt. His body trembled, and without thinking, he screamed, the sound raw and primal, as spider-like legs erupted from his back—massive, black, segmented limbs that shot out with terrifying speed.
The abomination that had killed Alina barely had time to react before Kael was on it. He moved like a blur, his spider legs stabbing into the ground and propelling him forward with incredible speed. The abomination raised its cannon-arm to fire, but Kael was faster. With a snarl, Kael's left spider leg shot forward, impaling the creature through its chest, the tip of the leg bursting out the other side in a spray of blood and metal.
Kael didn't stop. His right spider leg slashed downward, slicing through the abomination's arm with a sickening crunch, severing it completely. The creature let out a gurgling roar as more blood sprayed from its wounds, but Kael wasn't finished. He raised all eight of his spider legs at once and brought them down in a flurry of strikes, stabbing and slashing the abomination's body until it was nothing more than a mutilated, bloody heap of flesh and metal.
But then, before Kael could catch his breath, the ground rumbled beneath him.
Kael's End
From the shadows came a grotesque abomination—a towering, hulking mass of human flesh fused with weapons. Its body was covered in jagged metal spikes, pieces of armor fused into its skin, and its head was a twisted amalgamation of human and beast. Its massive arms ended in spiked clubs, and its legs were thick, muscular, and covered in chains. But what set it apart was its head—the head of a bull, but grotesquely human, with red, weeping eyes and a mouth filled with broken teeth.
The creature bellowed, and before Kael could react, it charged.
Kael's eyes widened in terror as the massive abomination barreled toward him, its feet pounding the ground with earth-shaking force. He tried to leap out of the way, his spider legs propelling him into the air, but the creature was too fast. It slammed into him with the force of a freight train, its spiked club-arm smashing into Kael's side and sending him crashing into the ground.
Kael gasped, blood spurting from his mouth as the pain surged through his body. His spider legs twitched weakly, but he couldn't move. The abomination loomed over him, its red eyes gleaming with cruel intelligence as it raised its massive club-arm for the killing blow.
As the club came down, Kael's final thoughts were of Alina.
"I hate… this dream…" he whispered, tears streaming down his face, and then everything went black.
Further down the street, the scene was just as grim. Espen was already dead, her body impaled on a massive spear that had been driven through her mouth and out the back of her skull. Her lifeless form hung upside down, her eyes wide in frozen terror, her hair matted with blood.
Beside her, Sorin's body was riddled with holes, each one a perfect circle punched through his flesh. His once stoic face was twisted in pain, his hands still clenched into fists as if he had been trying to fight back.
Near the carnage, Dante stood, his body bloodied and battered, but his mind still racing. His breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as he clutched the hilt of his katana, the blade wreathed in shadow. The shadows coiled around his arm like living tendrils, seeping into his flesh, granting him strength, speed, and resilience where his body had already begun to fail.
But he was cornered.
Three abominations surrounded him, each one more grotesque than the last. One was a hulking brute with a massive war axe fused to its arm, its body covered in spikes and metal plating. Another was smaller but faster, its body sleek and covered in blades, its eyes glowing a sickly green. The third was a twisted monstrosity, its body barely recognizable as human, with tentacles made of barbed wire sprouting from its back.
Dante's mind raced as he assessed the situation.
'Three of them. They're fast, but I have the shadows. I just need to keep them at bay. Don't let them close in… Think, Dante. Focus. Don't end up like the rest of them!'
The first abomination lunged at him, swinging the massive axe down toward his head. Dante sidestepped, his movements quick and fluid, and the axe slammed into the ground with a deafening crash, sending chunks of pavement flying. Dante's katana flashed in the dim light, and he slashed upward, the shadow-infused blade biting into the abomination's side. Blood sprayed from the wound, but the creature didn't stop—it roared in fury and swung again, forcing Dante to leap back.
The second abomination darted in from the side, its blade-covered arms slashing at Dante with lightning speed. Dante raised his katana just in time, blocking the strikes, but the force of the blows sent him stumbling back. The creature pressed the attack, its blades a blur as they clashed against Dante's katana, sparks flying with each impact.
'Too fast!! I need to create distance—'
Dante spun, using the momentum to slash across the creature's chest, leaving a deep, shadowy gash. The abomination hissed in pain, but before Dante could press the advantage, the third abomination struck. Its barbed-wire tentacles lashed out, wrapping around Dante's legs and yanking him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs as the tentacles tightened, cutting into his flesh.
"Aghh!" Dante grunted.
Dante gritted his teeth against the pain, his mind racing as the shadows surged through his body, granting him a burst of strength. With a snarl, he slashed at the tentacles with his katana, the shadow-infused blade tearing through the barbed wire with ease. The abomination screeched and recoiled, but the momentary distraction was all the first abomination needed.
The massive axe came down again, this time aimed at Dante's head.
Dante rolled to the side, the axe missing him by inches as it slammed into the ground, but the second abomination was already on him. Its blades flashed as it struck, and Dante barely had time to raise his katana to block. The force of the blow sent him skidding back, blood dripping from a deep gash on his arm.
'I'm losing…' Dante realized, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 'I'm outnumbered… outmatched… I can't keep this up…'
But still, he fought.
The shadows surged through his veins, dulling the pain and granting him one last burst of energy. He leaped to his feet, his katana flashing as he slashed at the nearest abomination, cutting deep into its shoulder. Blood sprayed across the ground, but the creature didn't fall. It roared and lunged at him again, and Dante barely dodged the strike, his movements growing sluggish.
'No… I can't lose here..I'm supposed to be the smart one… I'm supposed to have a plan…always!'
He thought of himself as a child, being praised by his parents after once again getting all A's in class. He smiled in their embrace. He shook his head fast at the thought.
But even as his mind raced with memories and even strategies, he knew he was running out of time.
The abominations closed in, their eyes gleaming with bloodlust as they moved in for the kill.
And still, Dante fought.
'Mom…dad…I'm not ready to join you two yet…I still have to be the perfect skn for you two…the one who will make the family shine and stuff, like you two were. I can't let it end with me. I won't fail you, I made that promise. I'll fight forever. No fool will get in my way..you two were the only ones who ever cared about me.'
…
Blood dripped from a gash on Judex's side, painting a crimson trail on the cracked asphalt as he limped through the apocalyptic ruins of the city. Around him, the sounds of battle raged—screams, explosions, the grinding of metal on bone. The air was thick with smoke and the stench of death, mingling with the faint metallic taste of blood that lingered on his tongue. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles screaming in protest with every step he took.
He was alone now. The others had scattered, trying to survive in the chaos as the abominations—those grotesque, weapon-fused creatures—hunted them down one by one. Every few seconds, he heard a player's scream cut short in a spray of blood, another life extinguished by Aresoth's twisted soldiers.
Judex's mind was racing, his pulse pounding in his ears as he scanned the ruined city for any sign of the god of war. 'Aresoth could be anywhere. He could be anything.' The War God had the terrifying ability to shift his form into any weapon of war—be it a tank, a gun, a sword, or even a bomb. Anything that could kill, anything that could maim, Aresoth could become it.
And that was the problem.
The war god wasn't just hiding. He was everywhere.
Judex's eyes darted from one destroyed vehicle to the next, from one pile of rubble to the next. Every twisted piece of metal, every discarded weapon, every fallen tank—it all felt like a potential death trap. At any moment, Aresoth could reveal himself, and Judex knew that if he wasn't careful, he'd be dead in an instant.
'Focus.'
Judex's thoughts echoed in his mind as he forced himself to breathe slower, to calm the rising tide of panic that threatened to consume him. 'I have to stay calm. I have to think. If I panic, I'm dead.'
He activated his ability—his cursed gift of seeing three seconds into the future. His right eye burned with a faint glow, and the world around him shifted slightly, the faintest echoes of what was about to happen flashing before his eyes. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give him an edge.
Three seconds.
That was all he had. No more, no less. Every time he used it, pains shot through his eye and head. He could keep it on, but it only causes it to hurt worse the more overused it is.
But even with this advantage, finding Aresoth was like trying to find a needle in a haystack—a haystack made of steel, fire, and death.
He could be anywhere. He could be anything.
Judex's mind raced, trying to piece together a strategy. 'But he can't just hide forever. He's a god of war. He thrives on chaos. He's watching the battle. He's waiting for the perfect moment to strike.'
Judex's eyes flicked to a half-destroyed tank lying on its side. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat. 'Could that be him?' He used his future sight, his vision blurring slightly as he peered forward in time. The next three seconds played out—nothing. The tank didn't move. It was just another piece of debris.
He exhaled shakily, his muscles tensing in frustration. 'No. Not that one.'
He moved on, his steps faltering as his wounds throbbed. Blood soaked through his torn body, staining his skin, but he ignored the pain. He had to. His life depended on it.
Everywhere he looked, death surrounded him. Players—people he had fought alongside, lived alongside—were being slaughtered. He saw one player, a young woman with a spear, get impaled by a hulking abomination with a cannon fused to its arm. Her body was blown apart in an explosion of gore and flame, her scream lost in the chaos.
Judex clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away.
Another flash of movement caught his eye—a helicopter wreckage, its blades still spinning lazily in the wind.
'Is that him?'
He activated his ability again, his future sight scanning forward. Nothing. The helicopter was just a wreck.
Judex cursed under his breath, his frustration mounting. His breathing grew faster, more erratic.
"He could be anything. He could be any weapon. How the hell am I supposed to find him?" He scoffed. "Heh..it's funny. I want to find this guy and kill him, but then again…I'm hoping I don't run into him. Why? I don't think I can win…I feel a sense of relief when he's not where I'm looking. I hate it."
'I'm scared.'
Judex's mind drifted, unbidden, to a memory—something from long ago, from a time when his life wasn't filled with blood and death. He was a child again, standing in the woods behind his house. The trees were tall and thick, their branches weaving together to form a canopy that blotted out the sun. He could hear the distant sound of birds, the rustle of leaves in the wind. In his hands, he held an action figure—a soldier with a plastic rifle, his only companion during those lonely summer afternoons.
He had played hide and seek with himself back then. There had been no one else. No friends. Just him and his action figures. He would hide them in the bushes, behind the trees, pretending they were trapped in some great battle, pretending that he wasn't alone.
"Ready or not, here I come!" His voice echoed brightly and cheerfully.
He would search for them, just like he was searching now. Alone in the woods, his heart pounding with excitement—and loneliness.
But back then, there had been no stakes. No lives on the line. No blood. No pain.
Judex swallowed hard, the memory fading as the present came crashing back. Now, he was still searching, but this time, the stakes were infinitely higher. This time, he was searching for a god. And if he found him, if he found Aresoth, he might die.
Judex's steps slowed. His body ached. His vision blurred from the blood loss. He scanned the battlefield again, his future sight flickering to life, his eyes darting from one piece of debris to the next, from one twisted weapon to another.
"Nothing….Nothing….Nothing!" Judex yelled frustrated.
Despair began to creep in, curling around his heart like a cold, black tendril. "How am I supposed to do this?!" he spouted, his heart swirling with doubt. "How am I supposed to find him when he could be anything?!"
His chest tightened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Judex felt the sting of tears welling up in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, but they wouldn't stop. His breath hitched, his vision blurring.
"If the abominations are this strong," he said, his heart pounding, "then Aresoth is on another level… I can't run either way. I don't wanna know what would happen if I did run."
He heard more gunshots, explosions, and screams of players in the distance, and explosions going off in a building near him.
A sob threatened to escape his throat, and he clenched his teeth, his hands balling into fists. He couldn't afford to break down. Not now. Not when everything was on the line. But the fear… the fear was overwhelming. It clawed at his mind, tearing at his resolve.
Judex's body trembled, his knees threatening to give way. His tears flared up again, his chest burning with frustration, fear, and exhaustion. He wanted to scream, to cry—to give up.
Then, in a moment of desperation, he did something he hadn't done in years. He punched himself in the face.
The impact was sharp and immediate. His knuckles connected with his jaw, sending a shock of pain through his skull. His mouth split open, blood spilling from his lips as the metallic taste filled his mouth. His vision blurred from the force of the hit, but the pain grounded him. It snapped him back to reality, pulled him out of the swirling vortex of fear and doubt that had threatened to consume him.
The tears stopped. His breathing steadied, though it was still ragged. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes narrowing as he forced himself to stand up straight.
"Get it together, Judex," he thought, gritting his teeth. "You've come too far to give up now. You didn't survive the first Cairn game just to die here."
His mind cleared, and a new thought—an idea—began to form. "What if... what if he's not on the ground?"
Judex looked up.
'Someone who enjoys war and destruction, they're always overseeing it all. Like it's their work of a masterpiece.'
Above him, hundreds—no, thousands—of more warplanes filled the sky, flying in perfect formation like a massive swarm of metal insects. Their engines roared, a constant, deafening hum that vibrated through the air. They were heading in one direction, toward some distant part of the city.
Judex's heart pounded in his chest as the idea solidified in his mind. "
"What if Aresoth isn't hiding on the ground at all?! He would be overseeing the chaos from up there…"
Aresoth could become any weapon of war. And what were those planes, if not weapons of war?
Judex's pulse quickened, his body trembling with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. "Aresoth could be one of those planes..".
'Or all of them?'
The realization hit him like a freight train. "Of fucking course..He's not hiding—he's leading the war. That's what he enjoys."
Judex's breath came faster, his mind racing as he stared up at the sky, his eyes locking onto the swarm of planes.
"I need to figure out which one he is."
But how?
He didn't have the answer yet, but one thing was clear: Aresoth was closer than he'd realized. And Judex wasn't giving up—not now.
With renewed determination, Judex wiped the blood from his mouth and stared up at the sky, his mind racing, his heart pounding.
The hunt wasn't over.
It had just begun.