Chapter 47 - Hunt

"VERN, I AM READY!"

This better work! He rapidly clicked three more gears in their positions before shouting back, "PERFECT! I AM DONE TOO!"

From the looks of it, he hadn't made any mistakes, and the contraption should work. So with a deep breath and grim determination, he pressed the primary switch on its shaft.

WHIRRRRRR

With a whirring sound, the umbrella began spinning as he fought to keep the device stable in his hands. Sparks flew out of the core assembly, and the makeshift gears began grinding away at the spokes since some were protruding where they shouldn't. This was going to stop very soon.

Fuck. Only if I could've done something better with Observation—

"VERN! I CAN'T HOLD ON!"

He swiveled around and noticed that the gun in her hands was starting to glow red with all that heat. Any more, and it would severely burn her hands. So he got ready and shouted, "AIM FOR THE CENTER! I'LL COVER US!"

The blaster hummed ominously as it gathered energy, the barrel glowing with an inner light. Cera took careful aim at the mass of twisted chairs, tables, and cabinets that had come to life and blocked their path. Their once-inanimate forms now shifted and creaked, moving with a wooden rigidity as if controlled by unseen strings.

And then she pulled the trigger.

BOOM

A searing blast of energy erupted from the blaster, a combination of heat and force that streaked across the room and struck the furniture with an earth-shattering impact, sending her tumbling back. The concussive shockwave ripped through the wood and fabric, the intense heat igniting them in a fiery explosion.

The 'living' furniture was reduced to ash and splinters, their charred edges emitting the smell of burnt wood.

This was great! Von Industries indeed made some powerful weapons.

He didn't wait for the rest of the articles in the room to try and trap them in here again. Holding out the whirring umbrella towards his back, he threw himself into the hail of keys, skewing his sprint towards Cera. Shocks ran along the muscles of his arms as the canopy of the umbrella was pelted by one key after another.

But it held up. And that's all that mattered right now.

Still recovering from the recoil of that massive blast, Cera noticed him, and a look of realization dawned on her face. Quickly stumbling into a stride, she leaped next to him, finding cover in the small canopy of the device.

Luckily, the typewriters weren't actively adjusting their aim because if they did, both of them would be in big trouble. He was only trying to keep their heads and torsos secure, after all.

One step after another, they closed in on the exit under the shelter of the whirring umbrella as keys were deflected into haphazard directions—sparks crackling around them.

Kicking a stool that was hobbling in to block his path, he ran right past it. In but a few seconds, they crossed the charred wooden border and found themselves back out in the corridor. The pneumatic tubes out here seemed unaffected by the happenings inside, which was probably a good sign.

WHINGGG

The noises in the umbrella were getting worse. But it was okay. It had done its job for now.

His arm felt lighter as he clicked the device shut and threw it back into his pocket after folding it mid-sprint.

Then, he remembered to check up on her, and she was looking worse for wear. That shot had done a number on her hands which were still quite red. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and an uneasy expression covered her face.

Noticing him looking, she asked in a breathy voice, drowned by the clanks and clatter from the room behind them, "Was that not subjective enough!? Why is there still no response from my eyes?"

That was indeed a good question, and he didn't have an answer to that. Not right now, at least.

"I can't say for sure, but it was a good thing it didn't. Things could've turned for the worst if you became dazed in there, even for a second."

She closed her eyes for a second before nodding, and they quickly found themselves back in the large hall.

He looked back—and nothing was following them. It didn't make sense, but he would take whatever good luck came his way in this unfathomable situation. At least the hall itself seemed tranquil. Dark but peaceful.

But neither of them stopped running. Pillar after pillar, they rushed past everything to make their way back. But the moment they got close to the narrow corridor to the public section—he noticed it.

In the periphery of his eyes, something moved, and his heart lurched. Skidding hard on the marble surface, he forced himself to halt and gripped Cera's arm before jerking her back.

BAMMMM

Stone and debris flew toward him as the gigantic metallic hand smashed into the floor, creating a crater on the ground.

"AAHHHH!" she shrieked and looked on wide-eyed at the thing in front of them.

It was the statue of Emperor Aldric. The hand that was outstretched to show care for his citizens had just clenched itself and slammed downwards, perfectly angled to ground both of them into meat paste.

Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

CRUNCHHH

The statue pulled its bronze leg out of the rock it was stuck on and stomped down another crater in front of itself.

There was no way they were walking right past this thing.

He backed away, dragging Cera along. "This is crazy!! Ephram, how could this be? What the hell is going on!?" she yelled in a hoarse voice.

She had been keeping quite a leveled head for someone who had never even seen Visions before today, but her nerves were getting to her. And he couldn't blame her.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He was barely keeping up with all the changes himself.

How the hell could this phenomenon spread everywhere?! Even Hensen could only Observe things that were in his sight.

Did it really all start because he turned a few levers? Where—

No. Curse my fucking brain!

He had been standing frozen still, just looking at the menace. Now wasn't the time for that. Berating himself internally, he set in motion the simplest idea that came to his mind.

"Cera. Calm down. We will have to run the other way. The pillars should make it hard for the statue to get to us instantly. We might be able to circle around and slip past it. Also, how long before you can use the gun again?"

They spun around and retraced their steps, but this time with the intent to hug the walls of the large hall along its edges, as those were the only sections studded with large pillars. Going towards the center of the hall would mean being outside the scant protection provided by them.

Her eyes darted around rapidly as she followed his lead before replying, "It—it's…it's still very hot, I can feel it in the holster. It probably won't even work if we use it right away."

That was expected but unfortunate.

CRUNCCCCH

Having found balance on hard ground with one of its legs, the statue pulled out the other one off in a very mechanical motion as the fountain beneath it crumbled into nothingness.

SMASHHHH

The whole building shuddered as the bronze statue pulled its arm back like some giant doll and then catapulted it toward another column. Vern sidestepped to avoid a big chunk of debris that burst toward him.

Cold sweat slicked his brows as he stumbled around the corner, the metallic footfalls growing louder in his ears.

His heart told him to run like there was no tomorrow, but his brain knew he could do more.

So he didn't waste any time and began finding ways to use his Vision to wrench some semblance of control in this mess. The bronze statue wasn't completely a rigid thing, there were clearly expertly crafted joints inside. It almost seemed like an automaton, except it was impossible to make one like this with current Lennian Fundamentals.

Fundamentals made miracles come true, but sentience of this degree was impossible. This thing was actively chasing them and solving problems like the pillars to get to them.

But that wasn't his concern right now. Since it had joints and sockets, it must mean there should be a few other mechanisms. Mechanisms he could destabilize.

He wasn't a puppet master or sculptor, so he didn't know the exact makeup of this thing, but if he could disbalance some joints, inertia would do the rest.

Assuming this phenomenon cared about Laws of mechanics and dynamics, that is. After all, the chairs back in that sorting room didn't have any joints, but they were still hobbling over like puppets to some tune.

No matter. It's worth a shot.

Complexity.

He tried to interpret the statue, and his heart fell yet again.

This damned thing was just like those typewriters in the sorting room—slippery like oil. He couldn't interpret its form with grays in his perception at all.

This is scrapshit! This has never happened before! Why the hell does it have to happen when I need it?

Not ready to give up just yet, he continued his stride and weaved between the pillars since the statue had just started running closer to the wall, outright avoiding the pillars as it gained on them rapidly. There weren't even two pillars in between them now!

Fucking work, damn it!

He kept looking back and forth as his imagination alone couldn't keep up with the unpredictable mechanical moves of the giant. Once. Twice. Thrice. He tried to interpret section after section of the statue, but it didn't fucking work. Until…

Huh?

On a closer look, there was a fanciful array of teardrop designs on its waist. They were hollow, and a few of the statue’s internal mechanisms peeked through the exquisite yet lethal carvings. He got a better look at the assembly inside with every movement of the Emperor's figurine.

BAMMM

BAMMMM

The statue was decimating one pillar after another. It might very well cause the whole building to collapse if left unchecked. But that was the least of his concerns right now. He was lucky to have survived this long already.

But there was no more time for random thoughts! Pushing aside the terrifying booms and the eyes of the wall paintings that seemed to glare at him with scorn and pleasure in his distress, he turned his focus to the mechanisms he'd noticed inside the statue's waist.

And tried to interpret them. A series of interconnected metal rods and rough-hewn gears connected to a central axle, all crammed into the limited space within the bronze structure.

And for the love of all steam—he was able to shade the supporting rods a white for their simplicity, but only the edges of that axle took to their intended dark gray. He still didn't know the criteria of what he was able to interpret and what not, but he did have a few conjectures. However, he wasn't about to test anything in such a tight situation.

A plan quickly shaped up in his mind, and he hurriedly asked, "Cera! How long until the gun can shoot again?"

She was already waving it in the air to cool it down and responded, "Should be just a few more seconds!"

"Alright. I am about to try something, if it works, I need you to capitalize on it. Shoot where you think it'll matter the most. I am sorry for putting this on you, but that's the only option we have."

"O—okay. I'll try. I'll have to go for a concussive shot this time. There isn't enough steam or time for another charged one."

He nodded and focused back on the image of the internal mechanism he had reconstructed in his perception. From the looks of it, all this movement was already pushing far beyond the limits of what this statue was created for. The mechanism was crude and was made to be more rigid than flexible.

This somewhat simplified the situation for him. He just had to find the weak spot. A flaw. There were more than a few options. But he picked the simple one that quickly presented the notion of instability to him—warping the critical rod a little and causing it to interfere with the central axle. Mainly because he couldn't interpret the axle wholly, so he would have to make do with this.

He really felt lucky that he had come across instability inducement. The vision allowed him to use his otherwise specialized knowledge to a great extent in this society full of contraptions. Even if they were made with techniques and designs he couldn't fathom, all he needed was to find a weakness. After all, every device was as strong as its weakest link.

Hopefully, whatever magic was puppeteering this thing wouldn't be able to bypass the Lennian laws of mechanics and work even with a faulty axle.

He quickly gathered more thoughts and ideas about how this flaw could work, and the notion in his mind grew bigger. Even though it was growing at a breakneck pace within his perception, the reality became dangerous faster than that.

BAMMMM

The colossus was already upon him!

He ducked and pushed off the pillar to get some distance from the trajectory of the swing, but the damned pillar itself broke from its foundation—hurling him in the wrong direction. He didn't fall, but still lost his balance, barely catching his footing.

He managed to escape this one, but the next swing was primed right for his head.

But then the puppet paused for the briefest of seconds, maybe confused by both his targets being away from each other for the first time.

A pause that was enough for Vern.

NOW!

He grabbed hold of the notion with ferocious desperation as it covered and shattered his perception.

"AGGHHHHHHH!" A bloodcurdling scream escaped his mouth, and his vision turned red. A horrendous pain consumed him as his crimson-streaked eyes presented—an arm.

An arm that was stretched taut, ready to smash him into a pulp before it abruptly faltered.

When it began its downward arc, the rod in its pelvis crashed right into the axle, and the very next instant, the joint gave way, causing the entire upper body of the statue to lurch awkwardly.

The limb's swing turned into a wild flail as the colossus lost its footing and toppled to the ground with a tremendous crash.

The world was turning dark as everything spun around him.

THUD

It hurt.

It felt like a bug was eating the insides of his brain.

Like, someone had punctured a hole in his eyes.

But it was okay now. Right? The Vision had done a far better job than he'd thought.

Maybe that's why. IT HURT! IT HURT SO MUCH!

But then he felt it.

More pain. Physical pain. Besides the one that made him want to gouge out his eyes.

It was on his leg. Something was squeezing his right shin with a terrifying grip. Something metallic.

"AHHHHHHHH!" He let out another scream, bracing himself for the horrific sound he feared would come next—the crunch of his bone being crushed to smithereens.

BANGGGG

Instead came an ear-shattering sound that seemed to echo in his ears. But the force which was squeezing his shin was no more.

He tried to inject some more lucid thoughts other than pain, but all he could do was listen to the grinding of the statue as a pair of soft hands under his arms dragged him away.

But what would that do?

His bloody vision of the statue revealed a frenzied one-armed monster that wouldn't leave them alive, even if it meant crawling on one hand to do so.

TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP

A rhythmic tapping broke the monotony of stone and metal crashing together, prompting him to turn his head around. Other than a distressed Cera who exerted herself to haul him away, a silver cane shone in the dark.