The fresh scream shook his Shadow far more violently than the first, yet the tone of it, such that tone could even describe what was metaphysical rather than auditory, was different. It was… pained? He’d let go of his focus in the moment of surety, in the face of certain death. Re-death? Un-undeath? Whatever his existence was, it had ended. Or rather it should have ended.

All along the attacking limbs, shadow coiled and collapsed inward, forming denser, more defined structures as the Chaos within them erupted beneath the hot onslaught of jagged white blue Sparks. The Sparks had discharged as soon as targets were within range. He hadn’t even considered how the spell was active and waiting to strike. Nor had he even given it a moment of confidence that it would do anything to his opponent. Watching the limbs contract and become increasingly solid looking, it didn’t seem to be truly damaging this yet largest of Them…

Yet it shrieked, long after the Spark had faded. It recoiled, pulling its less amorphous, much more insectoid looking limbs back to its body. It even took several steps, though they were more flowing and undulating than the movement of any skeletal life, back. Back. It could be hurt then! There was more too. Chaos was flooding into him. As if he’d killed hundreds of Them in a single moment. It was overwhelming his ability to take it in and for a moment he was just as immobilized as the hunter. By the time he recovered, the last of the wave being pulled into that refinement zone, the thing had reinflated the harder, jointed limbs with a thin core of Chaos. Once again they became less formed, flexible, erratic.

It began to circle him, carefully probing with its dozens of appendage, walking, flowing, bobbing as it moved and sought the limits of his defenses. He stared it down. Rather, truthfully, he was still too stunned by the events which had occurred and by his own acceptance of his doom to do otherwise. Well. Not entirely otherwise.

When it decided to make another strike, a much more probing one, with only a pair of limbs from two nearly opposite directions, he’d already charged another Spark. The scream of pain was accompanied by rage this time. Also, perhaps, a little fear. That fear, he fed on, much more so than the Chaos which flooded him, freezing him in place for a moment again as his inner space struggled to absorb it. That fear was consumed by his psyche rather than his core. Digested. Giving rise to a glimmer of confidence.

Yes. If he slipped up, it would kill him in a moment.

Yes. It could strike faster than he could recharge Arcane Spark.

Yes. His chances were slim.

Slim, but not none. His death was not inevitable. The fear in that fading scream was the seed of doubt in his opponent’s mind. He would rip out the cancerous tuber which had bored itself into his mind and plant it deep within those who would seek to destroy him. For this whole time, he’d grown not only confident, but also complacent. He’d let predictability become the foundation for his strength rather than his own ability to adapt and overcome. A weak foundation which crumbled under the first stress. Exactly like he was observing now in his hunter, become prey.

There was no doubt in his mind. It was stronger, faster, more durable than he was. It could destroy him far more easily. Yet it wouldn’t. No, in truth, it couldn’t. Because though shallow, the roots of doubt and fear had taken root in it, already crumbling the foundation upon which it based its position as the predator.

He had to move quickly, to cement the falsehood that would become truth. That he was in fact the hunter and, that there was nothing this one of Them could do to save Themself.

Before Arcane Spark could prepare for a third discharge, a Mana Bolt struck against one of the more solid legs. He’d aimed for a joint, thinking perhaps that was a weaker spot, but they moved too much and his aim was not practiced against targets not coming straight towards him. Still, the entire creature was as large as a pony and sported more than a dozen appendages, so the relatively small Bolt found no difficulty in landing a hit, even if it wasn’t the intended location. Shadow did not even gather to block it as the grouped up ones of Them would do. Perhaps it was because it was distracted by the lingering pain of the last Spark. Perhaps it simply lacked that ability.

In either case, the thicker shell of Shadow blocked a substantial portion of the Bolt, but not all. A small eruption of Chaos emerged from the new hole in its ‘skin’ for a long moment before Shadow closed the breach. The influx of energy wasn’t as overwhelming as the massive wave released by a Spark, so he was able to loose another two Bolts at his target.

Then Arcane Spark completed its charge.

Diving towards his opponent, he held back a Mana Bolt. Similarly he held back the release of the Spark, though he had reached just close enough for a stray limb to be within range. The struggle to hold back the spell’s trigger sent a hot burning sensation through his form which bordered on agony. Compared to even the smallest of Them consuming his Shadow though, it was tolerable. For a time.

His Bolt released and struck dead center into the creature. This time, it had gathered Shadow to block it. Some of the Shadow was dissipated in a smoky burst, but the Bolt failed to pierce and release any of the Chaos within. Emboldened and threatened by the aggressive approach, it halted its cautious movements and instead threw itself towards him, every limb which was not supporting or propelling it screaming towards him. Snaking towards him. Their tips hardening with Shadow into jagged points. Chaos pulsing bright within them, perhaps empowering them. Is this a more wild version of the spell he hadn’t chosen? Could he have formed shapes? Weapons? Yet he held not the slightest glimmer of regret.

CAUSE LIGHTNING.

Chaos erupted from not only limbs this time, but from the bulbous and constantly shifting mass where they all connected. There wasn’t even a scream. Nor was it dead. Instead a small forest of hard, jointed, insectoid limbs of almost pure Shadow curled around a semi-structured center. Nearly all of the Chaos had vented from it. Even now, there were still small geysers as the Shadow coalesced and tried to seal jacked rents and splits within an increasingly insectoid, though single sectioned, body. The flood of energy swirled visibly around his body, not even able to escape underneath his own Shadow, so much was it beyond his capacity to draw it in.

His arms responded sluggishly. His vision was blocked by the churning mass of impossible colors. He tried again and again to form Mana Bolt, or Arcane Spark, to even form anything from Mana at all. It slipped from his control again and again, the mass of Chaos overwhelming his mental grip on the more pure energy. Each time he drew some of his power from his core it was seemingly pulled back in with the flood of Chaos.

For the moment, this large insectoid one of Them seemed content, though content was perhaps not the way it felt about it, to curl its legs around itself protectively. The last of the cracks closed. The vague shape of eyes formed, a dozen of them, on what now seemed to be the ‘head’ part of the single body segment. Fairly flat, almost circular, with legs sticking out in asymmetric locations. Jointed now. Their shapes were not smooth and chitinous like a fully formed insect, but the Shadow was not gaseous, but rather like a viscous liquid or even a flexible solid. It rippled, it shifted a little here and there, yet it remained predominantly in its form. No flashes of contained Chaos could be seen any longer.

The eye shapes gave the distinct impression of turning their gaze upon him. Noting, perhaps, the last of the Chaos which had slipped under the jagged edges of his cloak. It would still take precious time to fully imbibe the Chaos within his core. Did it know that? Did it know how its metaphysical lifeblood simultaneously fed and poisoned him? Did it see that he was actually the prey all along and his position as the alpha predator was a merely convincing lie?

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In pairs and triads the jointed legs uncurled, lifting their host back from the broken surface. One of them lifted into the air, the tip sharp and pointed, covered in barbs. Steadily, slowly, it took aim. The creature was not used to moving with joints or being solid, it seemed. It wasn’t entirely stable. Its aim wasn’t perfect. The first strike caught the edges of his cloak, ripping a chunk of Shadow from him. Once again as he had before, he attempted to scream, finding he lacked even the ability this one of Them had to transmit his burning agony beyond the confines of his own mind.

A second strike went wide as the creature stumbled, off balance from the jerking movements of the attack. It steadied itself. Though a large portion of his Shadow had been lost, he could feel the torn section fill in. His cloak was diminished, but he was somehow still whole. Just less. None of the Chaos or Mana from within him had been lost. Unlike his opponents, he apparently did not ‘bleed’. That would likely be different had the blow not merely caught the edges of his Shadow and instead gone right through his center.

Chaos was still fighting to enter into his core, yet the limb steadied itself and aimed carefully. The motion was slower, steadier, fast enough and strong enough to likely pierce and inflict a fatal wound, but not so fast as to throw it off balance again. With every bit of mental force he could bring to bear, he threw himself to the side, turning a critical hit into yet another gouging yet glancing blow. Screaming silently once more, he proceeded to dodge as the creature began striking and flailing wildly. Even though it fell and stumbled, there were so many limbs that dodging every blow was impossible.

The strikes which landed were not well performed. Some knocked him around but failed to do any real harm. Others tore only small fragments from his cloak. A few more inflicted horrific pain and ripped large sections of Shadow from him. He grew lesser and lesser, though every tear filled in moment. His Shadow grew thinner. The deep and endless black began to noticeably fade into a dark grey. He felt as if he was becoming stretched too thinly. The Chaos began to slow. Much more injury and he’d never be able to process what he was taking in at all.

Impotently roaring his defiance, he ripped Mana from his core, fighting the Chaos which clung to it, forcing it all, Mana and Chaos into Arcane Spark. A Mana Bolt was a simpler spell, faster to form, yet it was also far more pure and ultimately, would simply be stopped by the hard Shadow shell of his opponent. Shadow, it seemed, was a poor defense against a Spark. It took longer to form than normal and consumed more Mana and Chaos than it should have. The spell structure shook in his mental grip and threatened to come apart. Yet it cast. Yet. It. Cast.

The arcs did not immediately move towards his opponent despite their near proximity. Instead they ran white blue with shifting iridescence of an impossible rainbow along the surface of his cloak. It hurt, yet it did not harm him, not nearly as much as even a minor injury from his opponent. When another limb missed, narrowly, he lunged and wrapped his arms around it. The contact brought with it the horrible sensation of his Shadow being consumed, but only for a moment.

For a moment later, Mana and Chaos in the form of the poorly cast Sparks grounded themselves through the new Shadow, flowing along the limb and into the center of the creature. The sucking sensation on his Shadow stopped and it froze. The limb was stiff and solid as stone in his grasp. There was nothing. At first.

Then it exploded.

Well. Exploded was perhaps… a strong word. Rather it… erupted? Really, all of the Shadow which formed the bulk of it turned all at once into a smokey vapor, blasting… yes, blasting worked well to describe the sudden flow without physical consequences… outward, coloring the greyscale world in total matte uniform darkness. At least, excepting for a small but intense source of Chaos which did not release itself into him, rather dropping solidly to the barely discernable surface.

Then the disbursed Shadow was drawn in. His cloak greedily pulled on it, slurping it all up, returning to its deep dark color and growing thicker and more solid than it had been before the encounter. Not by much, but certainly. With the absorption of the released Shadow, the world returned to clarity once more. Endless wasteland, almost entirely flat, broken by highly similar cracking and splitting. The broken moon in the sky, which never seemed to change its orbit. Was it geosynchronous? It couldn’t be simply holding a static position or it would fall. Still no stars. No sun. The endless grayscale world lacking any color.

After two near deaths it was absolutely beautiful.

Hmm. Lacking color was an unfair description. There was something colorful. A coalesced shard of Chaos rested on the surface where it had fallen. Tentatively he glided over to it. With a hesitant touch, he poked it. Once. Twice. A few dozen more times. The fragment was shaped not unlike a piece of broken pottery, except it was formed of Chaos. He could feel it calling out to his center, yet it neither bled into the world nor was consumed into his core. Curious.

Pinching it between his fingers he lifted it up towards the sky, contrasting not against the dull greys of the cracked surface but rather against the endless dark of the empty universe. Against such pure black the shifting and swirling colors seemed all the more vibrant. There was something else though within the shard, if he looked more carefully, metaphorically squinting as he lacked eyelids or the ability to control them, he could just make out… something…

His imagined librarian tapped on his subconscious once more. There were two choices being presented to him again. Only these were incomplete. Fragments. Not entirely information either. The shard was a piece of a tool, magic made physically manifest in a permanent form. It was broken though. The tool was no longer whole. It was like a part of a spell. He could tell instinctively that there were two different ways to connect to it. Each would do something different. What, he wasn’t sure, but they felt like they fit with his existing spells in different ways.

One path called out to both Mana Bolt and Arcane Spark. Allowing just a fraction of Mana to flow through it, it felt… solid. Perhaps this is what had focused the insectoid creature towards a more exoskeletal approach? The Mana which passed through it felt more attuned to his Shadow. Would it consume his Shadow in the casting? Would it make his spells more solid? Structured? Arcane Spark was highly unstructured, so maybe that would be a useful upgrade. He also considered the turned down advancement on Mana Bolt which had promised to make it more dense and improve penetrating power. Perhaps this would serve the same purpose.

It felt like combining into the spell would be permanent. The book of knowledge for that spell seemed to ache to rewrite itself with the change. To consume this Artifact and to grow. If the direction of that growth was not useful, it could cripple him. It was probably only a matter of time before he fought Them again and before he had to face another like this or even greater. What if he had to face multiple of Them like the insectoid hunter? Swarms of Them? Even lacking the ability to feel a chill, he shuddered at the thought.

Steeling his resolve, he ran a trickle of Mana through the other pathway, which resonated more strongly with Mana Bolt than with Arcane Spark. This one felt volatile. Almost explosive. Perhaps it would make his spells more powerful? Like how he’d created a stronger, far less controlled version of Arcane Spark by forcing excess Mana and some Chaos through the spell? That had likely caused a great deal more damage, but require physical contact and likely, eventually, causing him real harm, didn’t seem like a useful tradeoff. Would Mana Bolt remain projectile and yet explosive? The Mana which trickled through the shard in this way was far less stable and somehow more potent, violent on the output.

He tried to create a flow between both at once. Armor piercing explosive Mana Bolts sounded like the sort of option he just couldn’t turn away. It would not take though. Though they occupied the same physical entity, they were broken and isolated pieces of a greater whole. Some far more complicated spell form made real which was long since lost.

There was always the third option, to just hold onto it. He lacked pockets so… oh wait, a pocket just formed on his cloak. Convenient!

Therefor three, no, five choices total, really. The Shadow attunement circuit or the explosive circuit. Add it to Mana Bolt or Arcane Spark? Or simply keep it for later. Perhaps another spell or another fragment would be found which combined with it in some useful way. He wondered if physically connecting multiple fragments together could create more complicated effects?

The telltale motion of the smallest of Them beginning to emerge, well and away from the area of the battle. It would take them some time to arrive and they appeared almost hesitant to form. Perhaps the formation of the larger of Them had consumed too much Shadow or Chaos? Perhaps even the smallest ones were not as mindless as they seemed. In either case, while he had a little time, he didn’t have long.

It was time to choose.