In the legends existed a vigorous land where humans and orcs were bound to harmony, which resulted in offspring that were demi-orcs. The Briston family was rumored to have a link to the evolution of high-ranking demi-orcs who passed their might across generations. Their ancestors didn’t provide this ability through birth, but it’s inherited within a ritual. As the saying goes, “Legends never die.”

However, at this moment, a political dynasty will tear its blood-covered lineage, pulverizing the well-maintained history of the venomous name. We may have the same agendas, but we have parallel goals, each that never synchronizes. It’s technically die-or-die.

Skade, in his giant orc form, roared which gave birth to cracks in the room’s pillars. Subtle debris accompanied by smoke fell as Cyrill and I covered our mouths and coughed. “Can’t you even clean your attic? Knowing this, I don’t wanna look at your cellars.”

“SHURRUP!” Skade shouted a muffle that was nearly unrecognizable. “I WILL NAKE YOUR NGLORY MELOW YOUR NGRAFE (I will take your glory below your grave)!”

“I’m not interested in your nasally-blocked baby talk. Project Schrodinger… Not even a mind made of mere fat could come up with this naming convention. In what golden trashcan did you retrieve that reference?” If this whole idea came from the other world, it shouldn’t exist here. There would only be one instance that I need to confirm… the delivery fee.

“OOO, I FEE! YOU’RE AN OUNERWORNER AF WELL! YOU’RE NA FAME AF NOWS PEE-POLE HOO NEMENS ON NEIR UNFEIR MOWERS! (Oh, I see! You’re an otherworlder as well! You’re the same as those people who depend on their unfair powers!)”

“Whoever manmade monkey brought that bedtime story to this world may already have been tripped thrice now. Unlike those System fans, I don't need a handicap to take you down.”

I didn’t need an answer, I just wanted confirmation. Now that the talks were settled, I spun my gun, pointing at the orc’s forehead, and pulled the trigger. The same recoil dragged my upper body bending 45 degrees behind. Skade screamed as the bullet dug a hole at his pencil-thick brows, but it soon loosened itself and fell to the ground as the hole regenerated like pressed clay.

After recovery, he buried his foot on the ground and launched himself to tackle us. I pushed Cyrill in the opposite direction, avoiding the attack. However, I leaned back lately knowing that my right hand lost its four fingers. Though no pain triggered my stimulus, the worry on Cyrill’s withdrawn eyebrows caught my attention.

“Miss Tenant! I’m sorry! I’m becoming a burden to you…” She cried, empathizing with the pain from the unstoppable blood flowing out of my hand. This wasn’t anyone innocent’s fault. It’s my confidence to override the limitations of this body that ended up in my misery.

From the fall, I stood up cool and unfazed. “Don’t mind me, Cyrill. Also, you may have heard my name. You can call me that. For now, do me the best favor and hide!”

The aftermath of Skade’s attack summoned more specs of dust, fogging the visibility within the range near the room’s entrance door. Anytime, a jumpscare may end in a game over. As I readied my stance, I shouted, intending to insult him.

“It hasn’t been long since you got out your Pokiball. You already evolved into a boar. I suppose you already eliminated the spoiled ground meats in your empire. How about you balance this game? It would be unfair fighting a bag of beans with a thread.”

“YOU CANF FOOL ME, NGUIMORA!”

A second a clock passed, and the starving boar jumped to where Cyrill hid, a pillar farthest from the impact. He bumped into all the pillars obstructing his way with a single launch. My heartbeat synchronized with my hastened breaths that exhaled massive amounts of exhaustion. On the brink of the moment, I discovered that I still harbor my past sixth sense of slowing down time from focus.

After a deep breath, I maneuvered my right hand, slapping up the bag on my back and throwing the ammo up in the air. I pulled out the used cartridges from Tilda, spun a full rotation, and caught the bullets directly falling to the gun’s slot. I cocked Tilda through friction by pushing its slide before my shoulder. With no time to aim, I slashed the gun vertically, swinging like a blade while pulling the trigger at the right time.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The bullet traveled across the wide space between the pillars, twirling thoroughly with the prolepsis of a direct traversal through its target. It camouflaged itself in its finest and quickest form. However, I never depended on luck; it’s pure calculation.

Skade never anticipated the attack after he rammed the second to the last pillar when his right eye gazed at the bullet a millimeter away, greeting despair without warning. The impact misdirected him towards his left, missing the last pillar where Cyrill sat frozen, trembling in fear of death. He collided with the end wall as the pillars he messed with brought the upper floor’s ground towards him.

The mountain of debris bullied Skade into his own man-made grave. Due to the destruction of the flooring, Cyrill unconsciously ran towards the middle of the room, begging for her life. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I SHOULDN’T… HAVE MADE ICE CREAMS!”

As the fog within the tightly locked entrance cleared up, we discovered a man-sized hole created by the impact. I ran towards the center and slapped Cyrill with my hand which lost its fingers, painting stripes of blood on her cheek.

“Don’t insult me. Ice creams are superior to humanity,” When I heard crumblings over the vibrating mountain of stones, I pushed Cyrill’s back towards the escape path. “Go on. Run. Don’t turn your pursuit of life into a stairway to heaven.”

“But… You’re injured… Quimora,” Cyrill stuttered, forcing her weakened hand to grasp my shoulder while staring at my right hand. “I can’t let a young girl take initiative. Let me help you!”

“And how? Crafting delicacies from a person who showers bruises in the morning won’t even contribute to a single experience point. I might be young, but abuse the limit of my kindness. A duel doesn’t need an audience. It’s not a gambling den where you can bet… Your father expects you to come home.”

Cyrill pressed her lips in remorse as she slowly pulled her hand away from me. She turned away with her tears trailing around her head and ran towards the exit. She shouted, “I swear… I will seek help… I will come back for you!”

Just before she passed through the escape hole, the ground that shook generated a loud impact from a flying boulder. Its crumbling sound attracted her head to witness the brutal scene that rooted her feet on the ground. A part of the pillar flew below my torso, bringing both my legs away from my control. I fell facing down the ground, groaning and crawling to grasp the gun that mounted off my left hand.

“QUIMORA!!” The fear-covered Cyrill shouted, attempting to run back to save me as the ground pulled her weakened knees.

With brute strength, Skade bailed himself out of the shackles formed by debris which soon glided across the room. He swayed the floor with every step towards me who already gained Tilda back. I rotated, facing upward, and swung my arms the same way I fired the bullet before. He only slanted his face unfazed and returned his gaze as he gritted his teeth, exhaling massive amounts of toxic breath I couldn’t hold on to.

He gripped my neck and raised my head to the same level as him. His fist, which showed retracted and solidified muscles and nerves, clenched as he pulled it behind him. “NIF IF NA FECON TIME I’LL AFK YOU. ANY LAFT WORNF? (This is the second time I’ll ask you. Any last words?)”

“If I… suppose… didn’t have… an ability… I should’ve always been… careful… but–”

Not letting me finish, Skade bashed and dug his fist through my chest and squashed my heart, formulating a fountain of blood. Cyrill witnessed the brutal murder she could've avoided, as the mixture of sadness, guilt, and hatred froze her mouth hanging.

Skade pulled out my heart and stretched his palm, verifying that the flattened source of life would forever mark her execution. Skade released my empty vessel, closed his eyes, and laughed from the deepest of his monstrous lungs. The Entropy didn’t fail to choose its rightful villain, he thought.

His laughter lasted for ten seconds until a more menacing giggle gradually dominated the sky. When he gawked up, I, in my other spare vessel, already sat over his neck and caressed my palm between his eyes. With a laughter tone dimming darker and darker, I exclaimed as my crimson-red eyes widened, “I SHOULD’VE ALWAYS BEEN CAREFUL, BUT I CAN BE CARELESS AS I WISH!”

I activated the ‘Black Hole’ ability as I named it, but it didn’t appear visible. I intended to summon it within Skade’s body. A second passed, he pressed his head between his arms and screamed like hell.

“QUIMORA!” Cyrill shouted with her mouth completely stunned open as the heavy thoughts got released like a flattened tire.

“RUN! IT’S SARCASM-FREE! JUST RUN! LIKE… TEMPLE RUN!” I shouted.

Cyrill didn’t skip leg day and forcibly pulled her body to escape. As she vanished within my view, Skade’s head already compressed to its smallest form possible, until the mothball-shaped void ate it. The void didn’t leave a moment for me to sneak out as it pulled my arm in together with my surroundings.

As I entered the nonsensical journey towards my partial death, I saw again the huge 360-degree television made of the blaze, presenting the palace slowly crumbling into pieces. Even the Earth didn’t dwell as the calamity lasted for minutes until the view tightened itself and vanished into darkness.

I’m never gonna get tired of this limited-edition channel.