Novels2Search
Resonance//Dissonance [BOOK 2 in progress]
Chapter 24: Searching for the loot.

Chapter 24: Searching for the loot.

The hollow breath reverberated through the Sewage Throat, its echoes bouncing off the shattered walls. To Luke, the world seemed blurred, almost indiscernible. His heart pounded relentlessly in his ears, drowning out all other sounds save for the steaming emanating from his body, an eerie undercurrent to the deafening ringing that commanded the stage of this symphony of havoc.

Every fiber of his being quivered, his entire form trembling from the overpowering shock that had just coursed through him. A deep-seated rage settled within his bones, simmering in the aftermath. The blood that coated his body began to coagulate and harden, drawing back into his skin. Transformed by the touch of the Void, it took on an inky, bottomless quality, mirroring the very essence of the Void that permeated Luke's mind. Clad in these chilling patches, he harnessed his remaining energy, seeking to rebuild what lay broken within.

Magic, a beautiful and intricate force, surged through every cell of his body. Instinctively, it filled the damaged organs, assuming their functions in a temporary symbiosis. The ripped liver, radiating mind-rending pain, clung together as the magical energy sealed its wounds and spurred its compromised functions. Torn veins were painstakingly stitched together by ethereal threads, struggling to keep pace with the heightened demands of his accelerated life force.

Surprisingly, his mind remained clear, disturbingly so. Despite the recent ordeal that had ravaged his body, the waves of torment coursing through his being, and the searing agony of his boiling flesh still fresh in his consciousness, it all seemed inconsequential, devoid of meaning.

It all meant nothing.

During the battle, Luke could feel his self-imposed limitations gradually loosening. The fight had opened up new possibilities—three-dimensional combat, the manipulation of projectiles, even the creation of additional limbs through sheer thought. It was only the beginning of his true potential, an untamed power that allowed him to defy the odds and survive.

But just as these empowering thoughts consumed his mind, a sudden jolt of reality shattered his illusions. A hefty chunk of brick plummeted from above, striking him square on the head. A resounding crack echoed through the air, instantly dispelling his grandiose visions. Luke winced in pain, dropping into a squatting position, his hand instinctively reaching to rub the rapidly forming bump on his head. The impact showered his face with a cloud of dust, further adding to his disheveled appearance.

In an infuriatingly smug manner, The Little Fella descended from above, brimming with arrogance and annoyance.

"Well done, you pathetic fuck face. Now get on your knees and show your gratitude for me saving your worthless ass," The Little Fella arrogantly demanded, his stubby arms crossed over his chest, awaiting sincere praise.

Luke, completely taken aback by the audacity of his tiny companion, rose from his squatting position to meet the creature eye to eye. As dust cascaded from his nose, he vigorously shook his head, causing the remaining particles to scatter through the air. Much to The Little Fella's annoyance, the swirling shadow construct protested and flailed in a fit of rage, wheezing in indignation.

Seizing the opportunity, Luke playfully flicked the creature's forehead, propelling it a few steps backward. "Thanks, buddy. You're the best," he retorted with a cheeky grin.

With bumps on their heads and a shared sense of annoyance, they burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. The tension from the near-apocalyptic battle and the brush with death overflowed into hysterical joy at their survival.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Once they composed themselves, Luke wasted no time. The Throat was severely damaged, on the brink of collapse, and he needed to locate all the crystal fragments scattered by the slug's explosion. He pushed aside thoughts of the shards embedded in his own body, focusing instead on the slowly healing wounds and missing chunks of flesh that adorned his torso, now covered in cracked charcoal skin.

With newfound ease, Luke utilized his left eye to trace the energy signatures of the Evening Light Crystals within the surrounding tunnels. Methodically, he and his companion began their search, scouring through stone, piles of trash, and even the shapeless flesh of unfortunate creatures caught in the crossfire.

A sense of awe washed over him as he realized the immense power of destruction he now possessed. It simultaneously filled him with excitement and a deep sense of dread.

His body began to rapidly mend itself, thanks to the innate healing abilities possessed by magical beings. However, he couldn't ignore the fact that the true damage ran much deeper. It would take weeks, if not longer, for his body to fully recover. He could feel the echoes of past injuries, all the wounds and traumas that had accumulated over time. The consequences of his drug and alcohol abuse, the poorly healed fractures from countless scuffles and his father's brutal training sessions. And then there were the more delicate areas, like his brain and heart, both strained and weakened from years of stimulant abuse and recent intense physical trauma. He knew better than to tamper with those, as one wrong move could lead to catastrophic consequences.

*POP*

And his organs would burst like a ripe watermelon.

With his muscles still torn and his body in the midst of rebuilding itself, Luke made his way through the desolate sewers. The process of collecting the crystals took a few hours, although it was difficult to keep track of time as exhaustion clouded his mind.

Eventually, he managed to gather all the crystals he needed, along with some miscellaneous trinkets salvaged from the aftermath of the battle. Safely storing them in his Spatial Talisman, he mustered the strength to embark on the journey back to Monsoon's part of the sewers. Unfortunately, the tunnels that had led them to the Throat had collapsed, cutting off their path. Undeterred, they chose the largest tunnels they could find, heading in the direction they had come from, and pressed on.

Hours passed as they delved deeper into the city's underbelly, the surroundings shifting and transforming with each kilometer they covered. The flora grew more fantastical, and the fauna took on an otherworldly appearance.

Just when Luke thought they were nearing their destination, the path would abruptly veer off in a different direction, leading them astray once again.

"No matter," he reassured himself. "I will eventually find my way back or discover another exit."

With renewed determination, Luke dashed through the tunnels with unstoppable force. Nothing could impede his progress as he effortlessly shredded and sliced through anything that dared to stand in his way.

The stone tiles beneath his feet grew rougher, and the energy in the air became denser. Vibrant moss, pulsating with white mana, covered the walls, which had taken on an ashen-white hue, as if they had been calcified over time.

Like a lightning bolt shot from a crossbow, Luke entered another Throat, immediately sensing that this one was no ordinary passage.

The tunnel stood partially collapsed, its walls adorned with decaying, bone-like protrusions. Luke halted in his tracks, his senses heightened. Time seemed to slow as he strained to perceive any movement around him. Suddenly, a piercing wave of screeching noise assaulted him, forcing him to instinctively cover his ears and bow in pain. As the cacophony subsided, he felt a chilling sensation, every hair on his body standing on end. He knew danger was imminent.

Turning to his companion, he urgently pushed him away, shouting,

"Run! Get away from here!"

But before his friend could escape, a searing pain surged through Luke's chest. A bony, segmented tail had impaled him, piercing through his ribs and exiting through the front of his chest. Life drained from his body as his lungs filled with blood, his limbs growing cold and heavy.

With a weak, trembling arm, he pointed towards his friend and whispered,

"Run."

In that moment, something clamped down on his collarbone, lifting him up by the tail embedded in his chest. His breath was stolen away as the sound of his flesh being torn and bones crushed filled his ears under immense pressure that weighed on his being.