My wounds are slow to recover as I slither along the earth. The scrape of stone beneath my tattered scales is unpleasant, but I push forward regardless, leaving a trail of crushed earth behind me.
The frozen battlefield is long gone from my mind.
There is no point hiding myself from the sapients while I cannot shrink, so I slither between their nests without care for the thousand pairs of eyes that follow me at all time. It would be nice to shrink and flow over their heads without more than the odd glance, but that is no longer possible. Not with the horrid state of my body.
The sapients make no more attempts to stop me. Not after I swallowed the first few who tried. With my full size no longer hidden, even the warrior caste refrain from any reckless attacks. I watch a few try to follow behind me, but not many can keep up. Only that first dohrni that tried to speak to me — I don’t know how I recognise him when all of their kind look the same — can keep up. He rushes through the streets, barking at the creatures to evacuate, and for the warrior caste not to attack.
I’m grateful, but confused as to why they didn’t take this approach at first if they could be intelligent enough to realise I didn’t want to attack them.
I pass millions of eyes filled with both terror and awe as I tear through their streets, leaving a deep groove through the earth behind me. Not wanting to do as the Titan did to me, I avoid destroying their nests as I pass so close between them. But sometimes I cannot avoid scraping along the outer walls and crumbling walls.
As I make my way back to the pit in which I arrived to this surface, there is no avoiding the nests of the sapients. I’ve skirted away from the central nest with the tall structures, but even this far out their nests cover the earth. If not for my determination to return to the warped tunnels as soon as I can, I might have tried to go around further. They can’t cover every section of earth, surely. Especially with how expanse the surface has shown to be.
It is a concern that another powerful warrior caste amongst their kind might attack while in my injured state, but if they’re anything like the last, they won’t be able to without killing all the sapients here. Though, considering the albanic had killed dozens of her own kind before even finding me, that might not be much assurance at all.
The wave of relief that washes over the hundred warrior caste trailing me is palpable upon my exit from their hive. With only the odd dozen nests dotting the landscape before me, I stop withholding my pace. In moments, I’ve slithered out of sight of my watchers. The earth tears up under the force of my movement, riddling the ground with a trail none could miss.
I do have to wonder, if I’d shown my strength to them from the start, revealed the strength that their lack of connection with their instincts failed to warn them of, would they have treated me with this much care from the start? It might have been nice to spend some time actually speaking to them before I’d resolved to avenge Scia. I could do so now. I could, but I need to suffocate that desire. This is something I need to do, and allowing myself to indulge my curiosity with these sapients will delay me too long.
Once the warped tunnels collapse, there will be no returning to the Other Side.
Soon, the pit appears before me. Again, sapients around stare at me with countless emotions. Each different between them. I pay them no mind. All I have eyes for, is the wide opening in the earth that will take me back to what has been home all my life.
I pause on the edge, and peer back to the place I spent so long trying to reach. With Scia’s bends at my command, finding my way back will be possible. But I know it will not be soon. The sapients are all quiet, watching on with clear hope that I’ll dive down and be out of their hands.
I give them their wish.
I fall.
The descent is long, and soon both the sentients and the spatial ripple rise out of sight. Wonderfully encasing walls surround me again. I missed the walls I could see within the range of my sight. It made me feel like there wasn’t something lingering just out of range, some Titan or being ready to drop down and destroy everything the moment I stopped looking. The walls of this column, while wide, were visible and encasing. And I was relieved to be back.
It takes a long while to reach the bottom. Even in pure free-fall, I find I never fall fast enough. But it does come. Once the field of twisting space rises into sight, and I know I’m nearing the base of this rock-voided column, I angle myself through the air towards the walls.
The impact is hard. It scrapes along my already hurting body and flares the pain I’ve been able to avoid until now. Unfortunately, the bends large enough to sustain my full size are as rare as rifts, even down near the amber barrier, so I must rely on physically stopping myself before I impact the earth.
As strong as my body is, I can’t brush off the impact of such a fall, especially while still recovering.
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Mountains of stone tumble below as I scrape off the wall. It doesn’t stop me, but neither was that my attempt. It slows me just enough that as I slam into the earth, I only let out a hiss of pain. I leave the earth cratered, but at least I’m unharmed… no more harmed than before.
My wounds scream, but I ignore them and slither through the tunnels of my home once more. I’m not here to reminisce. I’m here to hunt.
While I want to rush to the Other Side immediately, I’m not yet ready. I need to gather my strength. Hunt down any beast I can find that will fuel my growth. The lynx will kill me as I am, regardless of the methods I use.
I could barely wrap my tail around the neck of the lynx last time. That needs to change. I need to be larger. I need the strength to constrict without being knocked away with the simplest brush of its paws. It will take time, I am sure, but I will hunt and grow until my goal is no longer impossible.
???
I snap my jaw shut on empty air, forcing my fangs not to fold away as they naturally would. Each large blade slides through thick bends before piercing the carapace of the ōmukade. The being jolts. Flesh exposes to air as its momentum carries the centipede along my fangs, fracturing the shell wherever it touches.
I continue to slither along the earth, avoiding the triple sets of pincers held back by my own teeth. This is the most effective method I’ve discovered for utilising my bends while in my largest form. After the first few times attempting, it became apparent that I didn’t need to pin the distortion to the rest of spatial fabric; I could connect it to my own, and allow it to move with me. Incredibly helpful when needing to pin a creature while I still want to move.
I twist and bite down on the head of the ōmukade, immediately curling around its form. The being doesn’t die so easily. A deafening screech fills my ears with the creature’s presence as it tries to clamp sharp legs through my scales.
A dozen pass harmlessly through bends, and not so harmlessly stab into the open wound of its back. Hundreds more slam into my sides, but most scrape along the hard scales ineffectively. Too weak, and not good enough a grip to breach.
It tries once more, but my constriction is too strong. No longer am I smaller than it. A centipede and a snake of the same size coiling to overpower one another? It’s obvious who will come out on top.
The bug stills. Before I can move to swallow, a heavy thump strikes the earth behind me. The Nareau has no time to respond as I twist and strike, crushing its head in my jaw.
With countless small bugs clinging to my side, I know why it fell, but it still feels strange to see these beasts jump to certain death. I mean, it should have seen me kill three of its kin before the ōmukade attacked.
Leaving the arachnid, I work to consume the centipede. The lethargy hits as soon as its in my stomach, but as with every previous hunt, I force my way through it. I can’t be wasting time resting between each hunt as easy as this.
As I move to swallow the Nareau, another wave of tiredness washes over me. This is the hardest parts of these hunts now. Not the Nareau. Not the ōmukade. Nothing more than pushing myself beyond the desire to rest.
And yet, even as the corpses of the beings I’ve found to survive in frequent enough numbers to hunt digest, they fail to fill me with the energy I desire. I grow less and less from each subsequent centipede. And the arachnids have long since failed to amount much worth.
While there are countless creatures down in the warped tunnels proper, I’ve found the beasts up here far more effective a source of growth. Not only do I barely have to search for them, there’s no need to worry about making myself a Titan in their eyes. They attack regardless of our strength difference, every time.
Maybe their kind has adapted to being the apex of this region, and don’t face opposition enough to grow out of that arrogance, but I don’t think too hard about their intent. I simply eat those who remain hostile.
It has been a long time since I reentered the warped tunnels, and my past dozen hunts have shown without doubt that it is time to move on. I will not gain anything here anymore. Not in any short time-span.
So now is the time to move on. I do not believe I am ready, but there truly is nothing that remains of the warped tunnels that holds a sufficient feast for me. My full size has doubled since I began this long hunt, and while it won’t be enough, I have no choice but to move on unless I want to tempt the tunnel’s collapse while I’m still here.
I descend into the depths again. The amber barrier comes into sight, and I move across it, searching for one of the rare rends to the Other Side. Occasionally, I’ll deviate to hunt a beast worth my time. More often then not, that ends with me letting them go when they show no intent to attack.
Frustration festers, as I rapidly discover none will appear before us that easily. It took a while I was searching with Scia for one to appear, and I don’t have the luxury of waiting that long. I need a rend now.
But, I have an option.
Slithering through the air, I find the strongest rift I can find and rush towards it. As soon as I have it before me, I try something I’ve never attempted.
With each passing hunt, I grow ever more accustomed to the distortions I control. Scia’s gift, always here with me and growing closer despite her no longer being around. I can create dozens of bends. I can stretch a bend to allow a fifth of my girth. And if I focus entirely on it, I can create rifts to distant places.
With my spatial muscle, I latch onto the natural rift, and push it to reach further. The rift twitches and shudders, immediately shattering its connection. Now, I’m left with a twirling knot of spatial fabric that continually attempts to find purchase in the part of space it reaches, but never succeeds. If not for my grip on it, it would collapse in an instant.
I stretch the rift, extending its range massively. Occasionally, it will intersect with another weave of space, but with a single glance as it tries to settle, I push it to go further. None of these connect where I want.
Space shivers around me under the growing weight of the distortion. The nearby bends feel the intense spatial quivering, and each of their connections stutter.
My forceful attempts to manipulate the space to connect beyond what it should destabilises the fabric beyond what it can handle. But I care not for the bends surrounding me. I only hope to create a path to the Other Side.
Once more, I push it further. I push it to reach the Other Side, despite having no idea how much more I need to force for it to occur.
My control slips.
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