Rain sliced through the darkness like frozen needles, each drop feeling like somebody was practicing acupuncture with icicles on David's freshly healed wounds. He pressed himself tighter against the ventilation unit, his fur instinctively trying to match the faint shadows present on the rooftop. Below, the creature twisted its head with the kind of fluid grace that belonged in a fever dream, those void-black eyes scattered across its skull like someone had splashed drops of pure darkness onto clay and let them sink in.
Another wave of bone-deep cold radiated upward as those eyes kept scanning, searching for any trace of Wildsoul energy with the kind of focused intensity usually reserved for machines.
Watching those eyes triggered a memory that felt like it belonged to someone else - just another delivery guy, standing very still while a massive Rottweiler decided whether his route included becoming dog food. That had been before the world decided everyone needed an upgrade to nightmare mode. Funny how those old survival instincts still worked, even if the predator-prey dynamic had gotten considerably more complicated.
The creature's beak gaped open in silence, and David's Wildsoul churned under his skin like a caged animal. The energy begged to be released, but those eyes would spot it instantly. The holes currently decorating his torso made that lesson pretty clear - getting shot through with void beams once was enough for one night, thanks.
Great, so I've got what, maybe six Cuddlebugs left? Seven if I count Captain? And they can't even look directly at this thing without getting mind-fucked. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Captain chirped near his ear, the sound barely carrying over the rain's faint drumbeat. David nodded, and his tiny companion zipped away to organize what remained of their fuzzy squadron. The survivors took up positions on the highest perches they could find, well above whatever invisible line marked the boundary between 'safe observation' and 'congratulations, you're now stuck in a mental screensaver.'
Water trickled down the surrounding buildings like nature's attempt at modern art, silver ribbons dancing in what little light penetrated the clouds. The urban maze below had all the architectural stability of a drunk playing Jenga - shattered windows yawned like toothless maws, partially collapsed walls formed precarious bridges, and enough shadowy perches dotted the landscape to make a gargoyle convention jealous.
The creature fired another void beam through a wall, the darkness cutting through steel and concrete like they were made of tissue paper. But its head tilted upward, considered the vertical space above its kill zone. David's lips pulled back from his fangs in a predatory grin.
Rule one of hunting post apocalypse - always check the trees. Or in this case, the possibly structurally unsound buildings. Same difference.
His claws flexed against the metal beneath them, testing for sound. The creature's head snapped toward some falling debris - probably another chunk of building deciding gravity was its new best friend - and David moved. His wings spread just enough to catch his weight as he dropped, cutting through the rain like oil through water. The landing on a lower ledge was silent, his talons finding purchase on rain-slicked concrete with focused precision.
Through the mental link, Captain's anxiety buzzed like static. David could practically taste his tiny summons frustration at not being able to engage their target directly. But better a blind spot than more frozen Cuddlebugs doing their best statue impressions.
Now comes the fun part - figuring out how to kill something I can't look at, can't blast with Wildsoul, that literally shoots through walls. Just another day I guess. God that hurts, lefty doesn't want to flap at all.
David tracked the creature's movements through his remaining Cuddlebugs' peripheral vision, building a mental map of its patrol pattern. Every few seconds, those void-black eyes would lock onto some distant point and fire, darkness lancing through whatever stood in its way. The beams left perfectly cylindrical holes in their wake, like someone had taken a god-sized hole punch to reality itself.
Not random shots, he realized. The thing was being methodical, gridding out the area with devastating precision. Each blast targeted a potential hiding spot, working its way through the landscape like the world's most lethal game of Battleship.
Well, that's just unfair. I have to play ninja in the rain while it gets to be a walking artillery piece with wall hacks.
A familiar itch built in his core - the urge to unleash an excessive cloud of Miasma nearly overwhelming. But using Wildsoul would be like painting a target on his back, might as well send up a flare and yell 'free bat samples, get 'em while they're warm!'
Instead, David let his natural toxins build, feeling the caustic substance gathering in his mouth and wing membranes. No Wildsoul required - just good old-fashioned biological warfare. The trick would be getting close enough to use it without ending up on the wrong end of those void beams.
Captain's warning chirp came just in time. David flattened himself against the wall as another beam punctured the building two floors above, the chill of its passing raising every hair on his body. Chunks of masonry crashed to the street below, and the creature's head snapped toward the sound.
That's it, keep looking down. Nobody up here but us gargoyles. And speaking of up...
Carefully, silently, David began to climb. His claws found tiny purchase points in the crumbling facade, years of urban decay working in his favor for once. Each movement was calculated, tested before committing. One loose brick, one scrape of talon on concrete, and this whole game of deadly hide-and-seek would be over before it began.
Time to see just how good this thing's spatial awareness really is.
The rain masked his ascent, each tiny droplet helping to blur his outline against the dark stone. His fur rippled in patterns that matched the building's texture, an unconscious camouflage that turned him into just another shadow among many. Water coursed down his wings as he climbed, diluting the toxins that dripped from their membranes. The liquid hissed softly where it hit metal, leaving tiny pockmarks in the corroded surface.
Below, the creature continued its methodical destruction, those nightmare eyes cutting through the gloom like searchlights made of pure void. Each blast left another hole in the urban landscape, the scent of ionized air mixing with the rain to create something that burned David's sensitive nose. The cold that radiated from those beams felt wrong on a fundamental level, like brushing against something that existed just to deny existence itself.
David's muscles coiled as he reached another ledge, positioning himself directly above his prey. The creature's head swiveled mechanically below him, and David squeezed his eyes firmly shut before those void-black orbs could catch him in their trap. Through his Cuddlebugs' careful peripheral watch and his own quick pulses of Echolocation, he built a composite image of his target. The twisted avian form was still unsettling - all wrong angles and too-long limbs - but at least it was something his brain could process without trying to fold itself into origami.
His own toxins had built to almost painful levels now, coating his fangs, talons, and wing membranes in a film that had clearly hit a saturation point. The urge to hunt, to kill, to eliminate this threat rose up like a tide of pure instinct. This wasn't about survival anymore - this was about dominance. About showing this thing exactly where it stood in the food chain.
Time to remind it why predators learned to look up.
A single drop of toxin fell from his wing, descending through the rain like a promise.
The first drop landed perfectly - right between two of those void-black eyes. The creature's head jerked upward at the impact, but David was already gone, wings folded tight as he vanished back into the shadows above. He kept his eyes firmly shut, relying on Echolocation to paint the scene in crystal clarity. The creature's beak opened - whether to scream or fire another beam, he didn't care to find out.
A quick flare of his wings turned his next attack run into a deadly drive-by, letting him spit two more globs of toxin in rapid succession before the thing could even track his movement. His aim was surgical, practiced - each shot finding another cluster of those impossible eyes. The mucus splattered and spread, seeping into flesh that had probably never known vulnerability before this moment. Before the creature could retaliate, David had already melted back into the darkness, nothing but the sound of rain marking his passage.
The creature fired wildly into the shadows, void beams cutting black lines through the gloom. Through the Cuddlebugs' careful watch, David saw his handiwork beginning to take effect. The creature's movements were becoming jerky, uncoordinated. Those void-black eyes still searched frantically, but they weren't quite tracking in sync anymore.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The paralytic would be hitting its system now, each cluster of eyes he'd struck becoming a point of entry for the toxins. Soon the numbness would spread, nerve endings misfiring as the sedative properties took hold. Every muscle spasm was a sign of his poison doing its work, turning his target's body against itself one system at a time.
--Marcus Hendricks has been afflicted by |Sleep| |Paralysis| |Numb|--
–Bonus: Control Combo |3|–
–Gained 50xp!–
David's fangs gleamed in the darkness as he prepared for another strike. Three passes down, and his prey was already slowing. The hunt was just beginning.
"You know," David called softly from the shadows, his voice echoing off multiple surfaces, "I'm starting to take this personally. Can't a guy fly around looking for his friend without getting void-beamed by every creepy bird that's having a bad day?"
Through his Cuddlebugs' watch, he saw Marcus's head snap toward the sound, movements growing increasingly jerky. Those void-black eyes were less focused, some drifting independently as the toxins worked deeper into the creature's system.
"The Dark Star offers clarity," The creature replied, his voice unnaturally smooth despite his afflictions. "Your friend has already been chosen. As have you."
Another pass, another perfect hit - this time catching the cluster of eyes near the base of its skull. David vanished back into the ruins before the reflexive void beam could even come close, the cold energy slicing through empty air.
"Clarity? That what we're calling it?" David's wings carried him silently to a new position. "Because from where I'm perching, it looks more like someone took a perfectly good person and hollowed them out."
Something rippled through the air then - a sensation of distortion that made David's fur stand on end. It reminded him of heat waves rising from hot asphalt, but wrong somehow. The sensation peaked just before Marcus fired another beam, the void energy cutting through three floors of the building to David's right.
Wait a second...
"You resist because you fear change," Marcus stated flatly, his head sweeping back and forth. "The Dark Star merely reveals what we truly are. What we can become."
David launched another hit-and-run, this time paying careful attention to that ripple effect. There it was again - a pulse of something that felt like Wildsoul but twisted, inverted. The same exact wrongness he'd felt from the Owl, but this time controlled, focused.
Time to test a theory.
"Here's a counter-offer," David called out, gathering just a hint of Wildsoul. Sure enough, every one of Marcus's functioning eyes snapped toward his position instantly. "How about you fuck off back to whatever you crawled out of, and I go about my merry way?"
The creature's beak opened in what might have been a smile. "There. Now you understand."
David released the gathered Wildsoul into his wings, letting Miasma pour forth as he dove. Marcus fired, but the toxins had done their work - the beam went wide, giving David the opening he needed. The caustic cloud enveloped his target, clinging to feathers and flesh despite the light drizzle.
"A smokescreen? In the rain?" Marcus's voice carried that same unnatural smoothness, touched now with condescension. "I expected better from someone the Master favors. I see with more than eyes."
David vanished back into the ruins of the surrounding buildings the instant the cloud began to spread, trusting his Cuddlebugs' careful observation from above to track his handiwork. The caustic vapor was already eating through feathers, dissolving flesh, and Marcus didn't even realize it yet. By the time the pain broke through the analgesic haze, it would be far too late.
"Yeah," David called from somewhere in the darkness, unable to keep the predatory satisfaction from his voice. "Just a smokescreen. Definitely. Keep talking though - I enjoy when my prey monologues."
--Marcus Hendricks has been afflicted by |Sleep| |Paralysis| |Numb| |Corrosion| |Miasma|--
–Bonus: Control Combo |4|–
–Gained 65xp!–
Through the Cuddlebugs' watch, David saw the moment realization hit. Marcus's movements became frantic as strips of feathers began sloughing off, revealing flesh that bubbled and ran like wax. The void beams came faster now, wild and unfocused, cutting random patterns through buildings as their wielder suddenly, and finally understood exactly what kind of predator he'd been hunting.
"You-" Marcus's voice cracked, that unnatural smoothness giving way to something raw. "What is this? What have you-"
"Aw, what's wrong?" David's voice drifted from the shadows, seemingly from just around the nearest corner. "Dark Star didn't warn you about the bat that melts people? Seems like an oversight, considering this isn't even my debut appearance."
Another beam sliced through the rain, accompanied by that twisted ripple of corrupted Wildsoul. But the paralytic had spread too far now - Marcus's legs locked, sending him stumbling into his own dissolving feathers. The creature tried to spread its wings, but they'd already begun to drip, primary feathers hitting the concrete with wet slaps.
"The Dark Star cannot be denied," Marcus rasped, those void-black eyes starting to cloud over. "Others will come. They will find you, find her-"
"Yeah, yeah." David's next attack run caught the creature's remaining eye clusters, toxin seeping deep into already compromised flesh. "Tell it to whatever's left of you after the Miasma's done."
The void beams were barely pencil-thin now, barely able to crack concrete. Marcus's form began to sag, structure compromised by the caustic vapor that continued to eat through him. But those eyes, even as they bubbled in the lingering whisps of Miasma, kept searching for any trace of Wildsoul energy.
Well that didn't take long. Should have invested into a little bit of utility there, Marcus. All damage and only one defense is a bad bet, even if it was a really good...hypno...thingy?
David watched through his scouts as Marcus's legs finally gave out completely, sending the creature crashing to its knees in a spreading puddle of its own liquefied flesh. The Miasma had done its work thoroughly - what had started as dissolving feathers had become wholesale structural failure. Those void-black eyes were clouding over one by one, like stars winking out in a corrupted sky.
"You know what the real irony is?" David leapt from hiding, climbing into the air as he circled high above, voice carrying down to his disintegrating prey. "If you'd just left me alone, I'd have been halfway to the coast by now. But no - you just had to try your luck."
Marcus's beak opened, probably for one last cryptic threat, but only managed a wet gurgle as the caustic vapor found his lungs. The creature's head lifted, tracking something only it could see, those remaining eyes widening with what might have been recognition. Or terror.
The ripple of corrupted Wildsoul came again, but this time it felt wrong even by his lack of standards. Like a engine throwing a rod, or a transformer about to blow. The air around Marcus began to distort, reality bending in ways that set David's teeth on edge.
Oh, that can't be good.
David gathered his Wildsoul, knowing the risk but betting on his target being too far gone to retaliate. The power compressed into his wing-blades, and darkness bloomed around them like an inverse sunrise. Light itself seemed to bend inward, drawn toward the edges of his wings until even the cloudly light from above began to fade around him.
Doom Blade hummed with lethal promise as he dove.
The world went black.
Even with his eyes already closed, the absolute darkness of Doom Blade felt like a physical thing, pressing against David's skull as he dove. His Echolocation painted Marcus's disintegrating form in perfect clarity - a statue of corruption caught mid-collapse. The Cuddlebugs tracked his descent from above, their collective vision giving him the exact angle he needed.
The wing-blade connected just below Marcus's sternum, reality compressing around the point of impact. David felt flesh, bone, and whatever twisted energy the Dark Star had granted all collapse inward, crushed into a space smaller than what should have been possible. The strike continued through, leaving a perfect fissure that split the creature from chest to spine, edges so clean they might have been drawn with a ruler.
Everything stopped.
For one endless moment, Marcus's form remained upright, those few remaining eyes reflecting nothing at all. Then the creature toppled backward, the two halves of its body sliding apart with a sound like wet chalk on concrete. What remained of its corrupted Wildsoul scattered into the rain like smoke.
–You have slain Marcus Hendricks–
–Gained 1200 XP!–
"Well," David muttered into the returning light as the effects of Doom Blade faded rapidly, "that's probably not going to cause any problems down the line."
The rain slowly washed away what remained of Marcus, caustic vapor dissipating into the night air. David kept his eyes firmly shut for another full minute, waiting until his Cuddlebugs confirmed there wasn't a single void-black eye left intact before finally allowing himself to look.
The street below resembled an explosion gone wrong - perfect cylindrical holes punched through concrete and steel, scattered puddles of something that might have once been feathers or flesh, and a bisected corpse that was rapidly becoming one with the growing puddle beneath it. The faint traces of corrupted Wildsoul lingered like oil on water, making his fur stand on end.
Captain landed on his shoulder, tiny form trembling slightly from what they'd just witnessed. The rest of his surviving Cuddlebugs gathered nearby, their usual playful energy subdued. David reached up to scratch behind Captain's ears, as much to steady himself as to comfort his tiny friend.
"Hey, at least we learned something useful," he muttered, watching the rain slowly erase evidence of the battle. "Apparently the Dark Star has some kind of network going. And they're looking for me, and Claire. Probably other people too."
The implications of that sent a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the rain. First the Owl, now this thing - how many more were out there? And what exactly did they want with his giant murder-lizard?
Guess we're about to find out.
David spread his wings, shaking off excess water before taking to the air. The coast wasn't getting any closer with him standing around philosophizing about cosmic horror and its questionable recruitment tactics.
"Come on gang," he called to his remaining Cuddlebugs. "Let's go find our lizard before someone else does. I suddenly want to be anywhere other than here."
The rain swallowed them whole as they flew south, leaving behind only rain soaked bones and questions without answers.