The world was over. Havoc was there to watch it end. Never having given much thought to the apocalypse, the most surprising part was how perfectly it mirrored his brief musings on the topic: earth shaking, sky falling, monstrous demons tearing through the ground, arms raised, reaching to eat the sun.

And Hurricane said we’d go out with a whimper, he recalled, chuckling at the thought, reaping grim satisfaction over the small triumph against his sister’s memory. He did not want to die, but as the ground trembled and cracked around him, he did not see he had much of a choice.

I did my best. I can live with that. Though, apparently, not for long he thought, his laughter growing. There was nothing left to be done so Havoc was content to do nothing.

As the towering creatures continued to rise from the ground, an explosions of rock, dust, and debris shrouding around their torsos, Havoc sat, crossing his legs on the jagged stone floor. He looked toward the horizon, ignoring the surrounding demands that he stand.

Aaron had told them to flee, but there was nowhere to run. No matter the direction, death was certain. The world-eating giants may have been far off, but judging by their size, once fully emerged, they would cover the distance in a few short steps.

‘We must flee!’ Aaron shouted, his voice steeped in panic. Momentarily drawing his focus from a distant giant, Havoc glanced at the frantic youth before returning his gaze to the rising behemoth. Without paying Aaron any further attention, he raised an arm and pointed backward.

‘Take a look back there. Maybe you’ll notice something missing,’ Havoc said, with a faint condescending smile. The sapphire staircase that had led to the ruined city was gone. Even in the midst of the chaos surrounding, Havoc had noted its disappearance. At the time, he was not too concerned. Their goal was to press onward. He had not considered retreat. It would have made a fine escape, but there was nothing to be gained by considering it now.

Despite the end of days, Havoc was calm. Not since being walked to the gallows had he been so serene. There was nothing to fight against, no struggle to overcome; he need only surrender. If there was a chance, any chance, he would crawl over broken glass to clutch at whatever hope he could find. But it was hopeless. There was freedom in despair.

Continuing to free themselves, the titans rose higher. Thundering cracks battered the air as a titan leg was exhumed from the ground.

Won’t be long now, Havoc thought with a smile.

Violent vibrations shuddered his bones. He shut his eyes, and focused on the sensation—harsh but not altogether unpleasant. Today was not a good day, but he was determined to enjoy it to its last.

In the midst of roars, rumbling, shouts, and cries, there was another noise. Like the rushing of water down a steep cliff, a swoosh of turbulence overwhelmed the clamour. Opening his eyes, wider and wider, Havoc’s mouth parted and his heart thrummed as streams of ink-black liquid burst from below, surrounding the giants.

The mountainous geysers of ebony fluid split, and wrapped around themselves, forming lightless chains. From their legs snaking up, link by link, dark bonds constricted the titans.

The links continued to rise, looping around colossal limbs. The titans wrestled with the chains—massive arms pulling at the constraints—but it was futile. The bonds would not break. A detonation of explosive roaring resounded as the chains began to constrict, pulling the titans inexorably down toward the earth.

The roars became a whimper. The titans sank deeper. No longer thrashing, they seemed to have accepted their fate. The irony was not lost on Havoc—renouncing his surrender, the scorching flames of hope reigniting in his chest.

Each of Havoc’s companions bore the same look of relief he still wrestled with. Still in disbelief, tension drained from his body. Even as monstrous wailing continued to surround, he could have drifted to sleep, soothed by the rattle of shifting stone, parting to reclaim the monsters below.

The whimpering persisted for a while longer, but then it stopped, replaced by wet, throaty gargles. The titans’ throats bulged, something forcing its way up from deep within.. Squirming its way out from the mouth of a titan, Havoc could see a grey, fleshy sphere. As though launched from a catapult, the bound giant ejected the mound of flesh. Hurled through the air, with a wet splat, it landed mere feet behind him.

Havoc stood, his pulse racing. Turning, he scrutinised the ball of grey, squirming tissue. Thick veins trailed the sphere, they pulsed a sickly green; worming the shape, they formed criss-crossed patterns upon its surface.

Pointed fingers pushed from inside the mound. They stretched the gristly membrane, poking through, spilling emerald fluid, puddling on the ground.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Without time to reflect, a second splat demanded his focus. Then a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth—visceral eggs rained down from the above.

A warped sound, like a knife scraping glass, escaped the bloodied cradlefiend as it started to giggle. Silencing its laughter, Ugly extended his sword, piercing its throat through.

‘Time to go, boss,’ Ugly said, curtly. Not waiting on approval, he pulled away from the egg. As the nearest fleshy sphere tore open, and the bulbous head of a cradlefiend poked outside, Havoc joined Ugly in his flight, followed close by the rest of the group.

With no destination in mind, they ran, the crunch of crumbled stone marking their pace. It took all of them to contend with one cradlefiend, now they were raining down upon them. Havoc had grown stronger. The heritage of the prince of war had shown its worth. Iron sharpening iron, within the crucible of the Dungeon Cell, he had far surpassed his most daring expectations. But he was no fool. Alone against the infantile monsters, he would be pulled limb from limb. Against the numbering brood? He would not stand a chance.

All around, the sacs of meat and monsters continued to fall, a moist squish announcing their landing. The first of the cradlefiends seemed to fully emerge. He was not about to turn and check, but the piercing screech and rumbling stomps told him it was coming their way.

The decimated city rushed by as Havoc hurried his pace. Were it not for his burning lungs, strained legs, and frantic breaths, he would have been certain he were dead. Condemned for murder, cast down into Hell—magnitudes more believable than this nightmare being life. Life, real life, was harsh at times, Havoc knew that more than most. But never had it been so absurd. He could accept many things, but as a waddling horror crashed through the depilated remains of a building to his right, giggling a twisted sound, its arms reaching forward like an excited babe, Havoc struggled to admit it was really happening.

‘We cannot slow!’ Aaron shouted, his breaths heavy, his feet a blur as he picked up pace, doubtlessly spurred by the encroaching shudders and chillingly playful laughter.

In the corner of his eye, Havoc could see Naereah lagging behind the rest. Panting deeply, her gasps laboured, interspersed with pitiable whines. She could not maintain their mad flight for long. But she would have to. The only respite to be found was in death.

By the corpse of a toppled wall ahead, one of the membranous eggs slapped down, tearing as it hit the wall’s sharp stone, allowing the creature inside to swiftly emerge.

‘By the hosts, turn!’ Veering down an alley to the right, Aaron did not look back to see if he was followed. Hastily, he leapt over tall, obstructing debris, crunching the gravelled, stone street on landing, continuing further down. Havoc followed toward the alley. In the moment, he did not consider the potential folly in passing through narrow paths while demons showered down. It was a direction, not a decision; like a lamb, he followed.

Shit! On brief reflection, the instinctive curse did not quite capture the intensity of horror, Havoc felt squeezing his chest as a cradlefiend stepped into sight, blocking off the alley’s narrow end.

Shrill giggles from behind spoke of no turning back, but the cradlefiend’s toothless grin did not allow further progress.

They were trapped.

****

‘No, no! Why would you go down there?’ Seated in her elegant, white chair, Annalise could not help but wonder to herself whether it was truly possible to find good help. When she enlisted Havoc’s services, even she had not foreseen he would demand such hand holding. It was almost as if he was not aware of how much trouble he was causing for her.

She was a Soldier Inheritor, but that did not mean her Harmony reserves were endless. Sure, she had come prepared, stockpiling fragments of renewal for her lengthy detainment, but she very much doubted Havoc would cover the cost.

‘It’s inconsiderate, plain and simple,’ she said, punctuating each syllable. She wasn’t ignorant to the irony of being frustrated by the performance she had strong-armed Havoc into—she just did not care. She had put him to task, and that was the end of it.

With a shallow sigh, a shake of her head, a four good tuts of her teeth, she closed her eyes, extending her sight though the All-Seeing Owl.

Having watched over Havoc from above, she was well aware of present peril. Cradlefiends continued to rain down upon the ruined city, and he was pincered between two with so many more marching his way.

There was only one over there, they really should have pressed forward. She thought to herself. I can understand with all the hustle and bustle, but such a narrow path? Inexcusable! Still, I’ve wagered too much to cut any loses.

‘Here we go again, bailing you out,’ she whispered, commanding her owl to swoop low.

Rescuing the help from the enclosing cradlefiends was easy enough. With a mental command, her familiar landed on the scalp of one the creature guarding the exit. With the connection made, it was child’s play to scramble its mind. Honestly, it was a little beneath her. It may have also been at the rank of Soldier, but its greater strength and fortifications did not extend to its mind. Without the Dungeon’s passive support, she cut through its psychic defences like scissors through string. It’s nascent impulse to kill and destroy were powerful, but easily overwhelmed by her mentally projected, piercing screams. It was not long before the cradlefiend collapsed to its knees, clutching its head.

Follow me, I suppose. She thought, directing the owl to hover before Havoc, slowly leading him from the alley.

Annalise took to the air. The subterranean city was vast, so she had not explored it reaches. Still, flying ahead, she knew where to guide them.

Scouting the landscape, the All-Seeing Owl flew at a measured pace. Down winding streets, swooping beneath dilapidated architecture, she made certain that Havoc and his companions could avoid the cradlefiend’s hollow eyed search. Brimming with danger was the city—the great beast bound by chains had done their work well. From Annalise’s vantage, she could see far and wide; the pot-bellied monsters had all hatched. Roaming aimlessly though nearly every city block, any false step would lead to ruin.

It’s all so exciting, she thought from the safety of her teapot. Still, much rather them than me.

A little in the distance, she could see the wreckage of a building. By the symbols carved into the stone edifice, and the toppled statues surrounding, she knew the place to be the vestiges of an ancient temple. Though the both ends of building had fallen, supported only by both side having crashed into the other, a small gap remained though which someone could enter.

She circled Havoc then dived through ingress, gliding past rotted pews, landing on a stone alter.

‘Ah, here we are,’ she whispered, shifting her sight to one the eyes on her owl’s back, peering behind to see her helpers follow her inside.

She opened her eyes, severing the connection with the owl. Sitting straight on her chair, she lifted a steaming cup of amber tea to her lips.

Well, if they can’t take it from here, they’re utterly hopeless.