The boy stared at the pulsating red mass of faces, its grotesque tendrils slithering closer. It wasn't fast, but the steady, rhythmic sound of wet dragging was maddening. He clenched his teeth, his glowing yellow eyes scanning for the loose threads of the anomaly, but nothing stood out. For whatever reason, that chaotic amalgam had far fewer loose threads than a normal human. In his state, he had almost no chance of successfully unraveling it without putting himself in great danger.
"Art, huh? In a way…"
Yes. In a way, he could understand how this was "artistic."
The person behind that voice sure created a sort of perfect being.
His left leg throbbed faintly, a reminder of the earlier choice he'd made to survive. He could easily unravel his own body and separate his limbs, but reattaching them wasn't as easy. It required time—about five minutes if he consciously wished for it. It wasn't exactly a long downtime, but one must agree it was far from optimal when trying to run away.
He checked his pocket watch. If he counted correctly, two minutes should have passed already. Only three left then.
"Come on, come on…" he muttered, his eyes darting back to the encroaching anomaly.
As if sensing his desperation, the mass's face was now smiling while murmuring words that sent shivers down his spine.
"We… know… you…"
Hitting like a bullet, one of the monster's tendrils crashed on the floor to his left. Its speed was so high that the boy barely had time to realize he was attacked before the impact.
"We… I… will… try again… I… will not… lose… heart…"
The boy swallowed hard and pressed his hand against the ground. He didn't know if the ball of faces missed him on purpose or just wasn't really good at aiming, but he did know something: if this thing touched him, he would die.
He focused his gaze on a section of the floor and spotted a faint thread running through the wooden panels.
"... Sorry for the damages caused!"
With a tug, the entire section caved in and collapsed onto the floor underneath, forming a jagged pit into which the crimson ball fell almost instantly.
"This… might do it…"
The boy sighed in relief. The red mass wouldn't be able to get up there before at least ten minutes at best, which would leave him time to reattach his leg, at the very least.
Or so he thought.
*squelch*
A wet noise echoed down the hole. As the boy looked at the hole with worry, a red torpedo jumped at him.
"Whoa!"
The boy rolled to the side, avoiding being crushed by the red squid-like being.
"Mi… Missed…" said the thing's face as its tentacles undulated.
The squid of flesh tentacles started latching onto the air around it like countless whips.
The boy suddenly felt his stomach drop. He had to get away from that thing, and fast.
The tentacles hit everything around the squid, breaking everything into a million pieces—be it the floor or the windows. The whole area exploded as if a grenade had been thrown there.
In his haste, the boy unraveled the part of the ground where he was lying, making it fall to the floor downstairs just in time to avoid being pulverized. However, his hasty move didn't allow him to prepare for the impact—his head violently hit the floor's wooden planks, breaking his nose and almost knocking him out.
"*cough**cough* Argh…"
He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. His nose now had a very visible cut and was bleeding profusely. He probably broke a few ribs too when he fell, but that wasn't as easy to tell as everything else.
"Tor… Tor… Tor…"
The many voices of the squid-like red mass echoed again behind him, reminding the boy of the danger still lurking in the corridor. He had to find a way to escape.
"Tor… Tor… Tor-Tor-Tor-Tor-Tor–Tor-Torpedo!!!"
A noise similar to that of a drill came from behind him. As if possessed by a premonition, the boy saw himself getting skewered by the squid-like entity.
"ARGH!!!"
Using all of his remaining strength, he pushed himself to the side using his remaining arm, avoiding the fatal blow just in time.
The squid drilled into the floor, sending little shards of wood in every direction. Thankfully, the boy could shield his eyes from them—once he recovered a bit of mental footing, he crawled away from the being as quickly as possible, his eyes darting around the corridor.
Suddenly, the drilling sound stopped, but it was rapidly followed by multiple explosion sounds. Again, the red squid-like being used its tentacles to pulverize everything around it, raising a cloud of debris.
"Tor… Tor… Tor…"
Hidden by the dust, the face-covered squid twisted its body. It was aiming for that hateful boy with scruffy hair, pitifully trying to crawl away.
It didn't know why it hated that boy, but it knew he was unforgivable. He had to die, and he had to die now.
"...?"
The boy suddenly stopped moving. Did he give up? That was good. It was better for everyone.
"Tor-Tor-Tor-Tor-Tor–Tor-Torpedo!!!"
The squid sprung forward like a bullet. In a split second, it covered the distance separating it from the boy and, finally, pierced his back.
A drilling sound was heard, and then silence.
The boy had stopped moving.
---
Her blonde hair flowing in the wind, the woman clad in red sighed. Under her mask, her glowing red eyes grew duller. The man in white seemed to catch on to this and called for her.
"Another perfect victory?" he asked.
"..."
The woman only replied with another heavy sigh. Why was that man even bothering to ask? Of course her creation, the result of devotion and a high sense of aesthetics, would easily win—it just had to reach the zenith of its beauty. It just needed time.
"To beautify or not to beautify, thus is the question," she mumbled to herself, holding a decapitated head in her palm. "Can you call something which reached the peak of its beauty beautiful? Hm… One could argue perfection is absolute beauty, but… another could say perfection is also a form of stagnation. And is stagnation not the worst form of ugliness?"
She sighed yet again. It hadn't been like that—she still remembered when every day in this town was bliss. Lundenburg inspired so many pieces to become more and more beautiful as time passed. There were just so many good materials there, she thought she was in paradise.
"Why, everything must come to an end. That too is beauty. Maybe Ryugu will entertain me more?"
As her mind contemplated her next destination, a peculiar sound caught her attention. It was a voice, but it did not belong either to the man in white, who was ignoring her, or her latest work.
No, it belonged to someone else entirely.
Someone who must have been dead.
---
The boy's body had stopped moving for a while now.
His vitals had completely disappeared—how could it be any other way? He was pierced from side to side. No one could survive that.
The squid's wrath somewhat calmed. The boy was dead; that was good. Now it had to find the woman. Yes, that woman. It had to find her.
Pulling its head out of the boy, the creature was about to head to the higher floors when it heard something. It heard faint breathing.
"Sigh… Such persistence," the boy said with a nasal tone. "Seems you at least *sniffle* know that a human can't normally *sniffle*… hold his breath for five minutes straight…"
As he said that, the faces on the squid glared at him. Again, the tentacles started undulating—a sign that it was about to obliterate everything around it again.
The boy was conscious of that, but he wasn't afraid. In fact, he was smiling. With difficulty, he raised himself onto his two feet, a big hole in his chest. He wiped his nose and put his fingers on the wall close to him, pulling a thread he noticed earlier.
"You *sniffle* attacked again and again, fragilizing the school's threadwork. Normally, I shouldn't be able to unravel such a massive amount of matter but… well, *sniffle* why am I even explaining this to you?"
He pulled the thread with a vigorous move.
Suddenly, fissures started appearing all over the hallway. The noise of cracking materials resonated through the corridor and from the floor above. It seemed as if the whole building was about to cave in on itself at any moment.
"N-No… What… Did—"
"Now then," said the boy, holding one of his strands of hair. "Are you familiar with the expression 'digging your own grave'?"
With a cacophony of noises, the hallway caved in on itself, and the two were buried under a mountain of debris.