Lucas had left the systems room in a blind pursuit of his childhood pet, Shredder. He had raised the Pelamüs since it was just a cub; he wishfully hoped there’d be a glimmer of his old friend still living within. With that faint hope in mind, he crawled through the dilapidated halls.
He froze momentarily, his breath catching as he watched two Rak'da regenerate into their current horrific forms. His heart seemed to vibrate within his ribcage as he crept low to the ground, his eyes darting between the shrapnel and the grotesque monsters. Calming his Kyyr as much as he could. The two Rak’da outside snarled and howled, approaching someone off to the left of Lucas.
Sneaking through the rubble, he awkwardly made his way outside. As he crawled over the debris and into the crimson night, he paused, a question echoing in his mind. What am I doing? He shook his head, trying to silence his mind's rationality in favor of the greener meadows of his weak willed faith. Then what? The thought weighed heavily on him, sinking his heart. But he kept moving. Haunting thoughts of his father being waived away by the deranged quest into the dark. His senseless emotions overpowered his own logic as he edged past the Rak’da and skirted around the building. The night was dark, and so was his path ahead.
The southeast end of Trant Station was in pitch-black darkness. Years of neglect had allowed tall grass to devour the area. The only guides for Lucas were the occasional abyssal blossoms that overpowered the overgrowth. Their glowing, unnatural pink blooms, while eerie, eased his troubled heart enough for him to venture into the dark.
He stared down the long stretch of darkness ahead, his instincts screaming for him to turn back. But the twisting noise in his mind drowned out all reason, and with a boy’s innocent logic weighing heavily on him, he pressed forward.
Siegwick arrived at the roof’s edge that overlooked the area where the infected Pelamüs had last been spotted, but instead, he was greeted by a pale figure standing ominously in the open. The Anomaly had come out to play. Bathed in the red gloom of the shattered sky. It stood motionless, its head upturned, as if it were basking in the crimson haze. It’s body was warped by shadow, its elongated head snapping in Siegwick’s direction as it stared at his ice armor.
Siegwick could sense a foul wave of emotion emanating from its empty gaze. Its large, empty, round eyes, seemed to lack any true function, as if they were nothing more than grotesque ornaments. The way they warped the light gave just enough distortion for the crimson glow of the night to shroud them in an eerie, piercing sheen.
It moved. Though gaunt, the shadows' creases revealed the deceptive amount of muscle under its skin. The Anomaly dropped to all fours, yet still stood taller than the surprisingly calm ranger. Siegwick jumped down from the roof, inspecting his surroundings carefully. They were alone.
Suddenly, it rushed him with uncanny speed; the Anomaly reached him in seconds, its malformed claws slashing against the building, painting it in a dark ooze. Siegwick barely dodged the vicious strike. The Anomaly leaped back, spitting something silvery that landed between Siegwick’s feet.
It was a dog tag.
Siegwick frowned beneath his helmet, his Kyyr deepening in response to the silent rage building within him. “You clever piece of shit, trying to piss me off, huh?”
The Anomaly tilted its head and rose onto its two legs. Its front limbs cracked loudly as its elbows were violently torn apart by writhing tendrils, only to be re-assimilated into thinner, elongated forms. Now, they were long enough to scratch the ground while standing tall, chest held high. It stared for a second before its head blossomed into a bloom of teeth and spiraling tongues.
Its movements became zombie-like—staggered and even more unnatural—as it lunged at Siegwick by sprialing at him with its long arms thrashing around violently. The awkward lunge caught him off-guard, but he managed to quickly form a shield of ice. However, as the Anomaly’s long arms crashed into the sharp frozen wall, they seemed to crumble under the impact. The mass of flesh then began to expand around the ice wall’s edges, striking viciously at his armor.
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With a surge of raw strength, Siegwick shoved the icewall forward, driving the Anomaly into the ground. He then shifted his weight, raising his right arm to the sky as he coalesced a large ice blade and attempted driving the thing straight through its head. The Anomaly’s tendrils caught the blade, but Siegwick didn’t care. He tore his hands free from both the ice wall and the blade, then slammed his icy fists into the creature’s skull.
Each blow was heavy, turning the creature head into a bloody stain against the coarse ground. As his punches turned to ripping, writhing chunks of flesh clung to his frozen hands as he relentlessly defiled its skull. The creature flailed in agony, mangled flesh erupting from beneath the ice wall, forcing a gap between them.
Rearming itself, the Anomly didn’t even bother to fully regenerate its head. Instead, it let out a vile screech and as it rushed towards Siegwick, its joints snapping loudly as it readied itself for another strike.
Lucas heard the fowl screech, causing him to drop low against the grass. His eye had finally adjusted to some to the thick darkness. Holding his breath as the screeching of the Anomaly echoed through the night. Quietly, he crawled further and further, still in search of his old friend.
That’s when he sensed it.
Death.
Looming nearby in the grass, the lumbering figure of Shredder slid into the grass behind the northeast end of Trant Station.
Lucas could hear it—the rushed sound of something wading through the grass. He would have stood to see if it was a shredder, but the sound of its breathing alone paralyzed him. It was rugged and unnatural, each gasping breath amplifying the wrongness as it lumbered closer and closer.
Lucas curled into a tight fetal position, hoping it would somehow miss him. The footsteps got closer and closer, and the breathing became louder—until it stopped.
He clamped his eyes shut, silently praying to every god he had ever read about. Then, something made him recoil slightly—a warm sensation streaking down his face. A liquid. The breathing resumed, slow and heavy. It was right there.
Unease ensnared him, trapping him in a cage of instinct. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, his body frozen in terror.
The thing slammed its hand into Lucas, knocking the window out of his lungs before grabbing him. Its bulbous talons dug deep into his flesh. The pain forced his eyes open as tears streamed down his cheeks. It was Shredder—no, it was an abomination.
The crimson sky illuminated its head as it towered high. Its empty eyes reflecting the faint red light ominously. Slowly, it opened its mouth. Desperate, Lucas regained his breath and thrashed around with every ounce of strength he could muster, channeling every bit of Kyyr he had to tear himself free from the Pelamüs. But it wasn’t enough.
Shredder’s jaws slammed down on him.
Lucas screamed in agony as it sank its teeth deep into his flesh. It shook him violently, its serrated teeth shredding his shoulder and upper arm. Desperate, Lucas charged Kyyr into his opposite fist, slamming it in the eye. There was a faint reaction—just enough to let go of Lucas for a second only to catch him by the leg.
Enraged by the blow, it flung Lucas through the fence with brutal force. His body smashing into an abyssal tree near the base of the hill, the impact embedding the rough, dark bark deep into his exposed flesh. The searing pain overwhelmed him, as he let out a throat-tearing scream.
His breathing was fast and ragged as he watched in horror as Shredder tore through the electrified fence as if it were paper, the sparks flickering uselessly against its monstrous form. Slowly, Shredder made its way up the hill, standing on its hind legs, its massive frame shrouded in the black of the night. Only its overgrown pupils seemed to catch the faint crimson glow of the shattered night sky.
Lucas screamed, “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”
Shredder paused, his enormous form looming over Lucas, saliva dripping from its spiraling tongues that it failed to keep within its vile maw. Slowly, Shredder’s jaw began to unhinge, revealing rows of serrated teeth gleaming in the faint crimson light. A deep, guttural growl rumbled through the air as Shredder’s throat quivered in anticipation.
With terrifying speed, Shredder lunged, jaws wide, ready to tear into him. But suddenly—a crimson flash smashed into the beast, sending it crashing back down the hill.
Lucas’s vision blurred as the resounding echo of rhythmic clapping permeated his mind. Barely keeping his eyes open, he saw his savior turn to face him—a crimson-armored monster. Its skin was coarse and cracked, with an ephemeral glow shinning brightly under the crimson glow of the fracture above. Its face was featureless, except for a massive jaw that seemed to crack its own form as it failed to smile, revealing sharp, nearly transparent teeth.
Lucas recognized the being before him, something he’d only seen in dubious books and old recordings of ancient wars. Standing before him was a Coarseblood. Its silhouette vaguely see-through against the light, its strange ear-like appendages unmistakable.
There was only one person that this Coarseblood could be.
“Gira…” Lucas muttered weakly.
Gira roared in recognition, turning to face a seething Shredder. With the help of the Kyyr booster, he had fully transformed at last. All that remained was the hunger—the frenzied need to consume.