The Champion loomed over Jack, the Arachnae’s molten eyes fixed on him, a malevolent intelligence sparking behind its chitinous mask. Its movements were slower than the warrior drones, but far more calculated. As Jack steadied himself, machete crackling with defiant energy, he took in the Champion’s stance, the way its massive body shifted with each step as if analyzing him, waiting for him to make the first move.
“Okay ugly,” Jack muttered, lips curving in a faint smirk. “Let’s dance.” Jack moved, and the fight was on.
The Champion lunged, each limb moving in eerie silence as it advanced with deadly grace. Jack sidestepped, slashing out with his machete, but the creature’s armor deflected the blow with a resounding clang, the blade glancing off uselessly.
Before he could react, the Champion’s massive pincer swung around, and Jack ducked, feeling the air ripple as it narrowly missed his head. He twisted, managing to bring the machete down at one of the creature’s joints. The blade bit deep, drawing a spurt of dark ichor, but the Arachnae barely flinched, ripping its leg free and retaliating with a swift backhand that Jack barely managed to dodge.
“Not bad,” Jack grunted, feigning a nonchalance he didn’t quite feel. “Bet that hurt a little, didn’t it?”
The Champion hissed, its mandibles clicking in a sound that was almost mocking.
“Oh, a talker, are we?” Jack taunted, circling around as he kept his grip firm on the machete. “I could do this all day, buddy - but I’ve got other things to get to, so if you could just keel over, that’d be great.”
The Champion’s mandibles curled in a grim parody of a grin. With a flash of movement, it darted forward, its pincer sweeping low. Jack tried to dodge, but the creature anticipated his move, shifting its weight and catching him off guard. The pincer caught his leg, and Jack was thrown off-balance, stumbling as he struggled to stay on his feet. He managed to twist, driving his machete into the creature’s joint again, but the Champion’s armored plating absorbed most of the blow.
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Jack gasped, stepping back to reassess. But the Champion didn’t give him a moment’s reprieve - it advanced with relentless purpose, its claws clicking rhythmically as it closed in, each movement a precise calculation of lethal intent.
Jack’s bravado faltered as he blocked one pincer, only for the other to swing in from the opposite side, forcing him into a desperate roll to avoid being crushed. He came up swinging, the machete glinting in the dim light, and slashed down again. But the Champion’s chitin was practically impenetrable, and his strikes merely glanced off its armor.
Across the battlefield, the soldiers fought valiantly, thrusting their makeshift stinger-spears at the Overlord and its minions, who fell in clusters, screaming in pain as their own venom turned against them. They cheered as another warrior fell, but the Overlord’s sudden disengagement cast a dark shadow over their victory, the immense creature holding their attention as it turned to bear down on Jack, seeking to join the fray.
“Oh, come on,” Jack muttered, struggling to keep up with the Champion’s relentless onslaught. While he contemplated the onrushing trouble. He ducked another swipe, barely managing to land a blow against the adamantine side. But it was like chipping away at a mountain - each strike barely made a dent, and the Champion responded with a speed and ferocity that was beginning to wear him down.
In a moment of sheer audacity, Jack straightened and grinned, lifting his machete. “Look, pal, I’m getting a little bored here. Why don’t you throw in something new?”
The creature paused, as if considering him. Then, with a disturbing crackle, it let out a low, resonant sound - laughter. The sound sent a chill down Jack’s spine, the vibrations rolling through his bones as the Champion surged forward with renewed ferocity. Jack barely managed to sidestep, and the Champion’s pincer slammed into him, sending him skidding back. His back hit a tree, and for a second, his vision blurred, pain lancing through his ribs.
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“Well… I walked into that one,” he coughed, shaking his head to clear the dizziness.
The Champion moved in for the kill, its mandibles snapping with grim anticipation. Jack struggled to push himself to his feet, feeling a sharp ache radiate through his side. He wasn’t going to last much longer if he kept this up. Especially not against two of them at once.
But before the Champion could strike again, and the Overlord could get its two cents in, a group of soldiers managed to rally, their desperate shouts filling the air as they hurled stingers at the approaching Overlord, harrying it from all sides. Distracting it.
The diversion gave Jack a moment’s reprieve, but he knew it wouldn’t last. He staggered back, catching his breath, but his vision swam, a dull ringing in his ears as he tried to regain his bearings. He felt a weight in his pocket shift, and his hand reflexively went to it - the pack of Prismata cards he always kept close. His fingers brushed against the smooth, familiar surface of the cards, and he felt a strange comfort wash over him, grounding him amid the chaos.
The soldiers’ cries and the clashing sounds of battle faded into the background as he pulled the cards from his pocket. His grip faltered, and they scattered across the ground, the gleam of their edges catching the dim light. He didn’t know why, but his gaze zeroed in on one card in particular - a card adorned with a beautiful, ethereal figure, her silver hair flowing in waves, her eyes calm and full of wisdom. The Lady of the Crescent Moon.
His heart twisted. She was one of the seven - one of the heroes of the Seven Realms, a warrior with a gentle strength and a soul that had once saved his own. He remembered the day he had crafted this card, embedding the last remnant of her essence into it after her death, a token to keep her close even though she was gone.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he whispered, his voice rough as he numbly reached to pick up the fallen cards.
In that moment, it was as though her presence surrounded him, filling him with a quiet strength. He pressed his fingers to the card, feeling the intricate runes beneath his fingertips, and his will seemed to fuse with it, reaching out to the essence within. A pulse of energy thrummed through his fingers, a resonance that echoed deep in his soul, as if answering his call.
A low chime sounded, a faint whisper against his thoughts - the unmistakable tone of the System.
System Notification: Prismata Card Link Detected - The Lady of the Crescent Moon.
Activate Card?
Yes / No
Jack’s breath caught, his heart pounding as he stared at the glowing words hovering before him. The battlefield, the Arachnae, the cacophony of war - all of it faded as he stared at the notification, the weight of her memory flooding through him.
With a trembling hand, he reached out and selected Yes.
The world shifted. A powerful surge of energy enveloped him, the pulse of ancient magic crackling through his veins like wildfire. Light spiraled up from the card, weaving around him in a luminous dance, and he felt her presence, familiar and steadfast, as if she were standing right there beside him, shielding him from the darkness.
The Champion turned, sensing the shift, its molten eyes narrowing in suspicion as the light built around Jack, shimmering with the hues of moonlight and starlight. Jack rose to his feet, the pain in his body melting away as he drew strength from the connection, a whisper of her voice echoing in his mind - a voice he hadn’t heard since the day she had left his world.
“Stand strong, Jack. You are not alone.”
He felt the weight of her words settle over him, like armor reforged from the memories they’d shared. His machete flared with an intense light, the runes along its blade shifting, transforming as the power of the Crescent Moon suffused it, wrapping it in silver-blue flames.
The Champion growled, recognizing the threat, its mandibles clicking furiously as it advanced with murderous intent. But Jack was ready, his eyes blazing with a renewed determination as he lifted the machete.
“All right, you oversized freak,” he muttered, his voice steady as he locked eyes with the approaching Arachnae. “Let’s finish this.”
The Champion lunged, but Jack met it head-on, the air crackling with energy as their clash ignited in a burst of light and shadow.
And in the aftereffect of the impact, Jaeden used the explosion of energy to hide his true intent.
He ducked past the Champion and rushed to the harried Overlord.
Time to divide and conquer, he thought with renewed determination.