The Parasite Of New World

Digging into the thickly packed mass of tentacles wasn't easy, especially with this battered body of his. Each movement felt like torture. The tentacles shifted and squirmed around him, the slick, blood-red flesh pressing against his torn skin, not yet closed wounds, and barely started closing wounds reopening everything back. Pain shot through him in sharp, frantic pulses, coursing through his nerves like fire. Every time a fresh wave of pain hit, it was as though his whole body was screaming in protest, trying to get him to stop.

His grip tightened on the nearest tendril as he forced his way through the shifting, living mass. The pulsations of the creature seemed to respond to his movements, trying to push him back. The thick layers of tentacles pressed down on him from all sides, their sinewy length wrapping around him like a web, making each breath feel like it was suffocating him.

With every movement, the pain intensified, radiating out from his wounds and shooting through his body like electric shocks. His vision blurred slightly, the agony threatening to pull him under. But he didn't have the luxury of passing out or giving in to the pain.

He had to keep moving, Keep

pressing forward. The thought of what

might happen if he didn't make it to the

center of the mass - of whatever was hiding

inside wasn't stopped - kept him going

despite the overwhelming pain.

The tentacles continued to writhe, twisting

around his battered body like a thousand

tiny hands, each touch sending a jolt of

discomfort. His muscles screamed for rest,

but he couldn't afford to stop. With each

step deeper into the mass, he felt a strange

mix of dread and determination. The closer

he got to whatever was hidden within, the

more that feeling of urgency intensified.

It was like his body was falling apart while

the world around him was alive, pressing in

on him from all sides. But his mind couldn't

dwell on it. Not now. Not when the stakes

were so high. He forced himself to keep

moving, despite the burning pain in every

fiber of his being.

The deeper he dug, the more the creature

seemed to pulse with an almost sentient

awareness. It was as if the heart of the

thing he was getting closer to knew he

was coming. The pressure on his body

intensified as he dug through the shifting

mass of tentacles. And then, just as his

strength was beginning to fail, his hand

brushed against something different

Something solid. Something that isn't a mass of flesh.

Which surprised even Sol as he never expected to see whatever he was seeing right now in the depth of this swirling mass of flesh tentacles.

***

Its silver surface shone even between these fleshy tentacles; as the cold metal touched his broken skin, a small pang of pain rushed to his brain, but he didn't care. The hard, smooth texture of the metal felt so foreign amidst the living, writhing mass around him. For a moment, he just stayed still, his breath shallow and labored, trying to comprehend what he was touching.

The silver surface gleamed dimly, reflecting the flickers of red from the blood-soaked tentacles. It felt almost... unnatural, like an intrusion in this otherwise organic, fleshy world. Sol's mind raced with possibilities. Was this a part of the creature? Or was it something else entirely? Some kind of mechanism? The egg? Or something entirely different from whatever he was imagining.

He swallowed hard, pushing aside the pain in his body as best he could. His fingers traced the contours of the object, feeling the smoothness of the metal, the coldness seeping into his skin like a memory of something long forgotten. It was large, far larger than anything he could reasonably hold, and it felt... alive, too. Not in the same way the tentacles pulsed with energy, but there was a strange hum beneath his fingertips, almost like it was reacting to his touch.

He pushed his hand gently to the flawless metal surface; it just felt right to do so, as if something ancient was calling him. What happened next was his hand sunk deep into the metal object, and after that, the object slowly pulled him into itself.

Sliding through the fleshy tentacles wrapped around him, he felt himself getting devoured by the metal object. The tentacles twisted wildly as if got alert to this change, trying to grasp him before he could escape from their reach. But compared to the strange metal object the creature was no match.

Soon Sol escaped from the creature's grasp and fully entered the giant metal object.

***

There once was a dragon, but it was small and weak; its scales were brittle, its wings were small, and its heart was weak. So, it was thrown away from its parents' lair to die.

In the wild, among the countless monsters it survived, it hid in the dark and ate the leftovers of the other monsters until one fateful night, it met its mother.

Driven by sorrow and spite it couldn't help but ask from her:

"Why?"

The mother dragon answered its question coldly:

"Because you were weak."

The first answer was truthful yet not the full truth.

I felt angry after hearing that answer and asked again.

"Why?"

The mother dragon answered differently this time.

"So you can prove yourself."

The second answer was a complete lie devoid of any truth.

It asked once again.

"Why?"

After the third time it asked it the mother dragon answered truthfully.

"So you can perish out of others of my kind's sight."

Only then did the little dragon accept the answer and find its reason to live. It spat its mother and its kind - the dragons - consumed by hatred and revenge; it ripped off its wings in front of its mother, and she'd its brittle scales.

The little one's action of denying the dragon kind angered it, and the mother dragon swallowed its offspring. Fro-[Enough with the nonsense.]

***

The space inside the metal object was vast, bigger than whatever it looked like from the outside. Its overall shape was a sphere made of countless hexagon-shaped plates with various runes sculpted on it.

As if declaring its independence from the outside world, the gravity here works differently, too. Sol felt weightless, floating in the air freely without any worry; luckily, whatever this place was also produced air; otherwise, he would have died from suffocation.

The sudden shift in environment left Sol disoriented, his body still throbbing with pain from the brutal journey through the tentacles. He rotated slowly in the weightless air, looking at his surroundings with curiosity, but then his gaze landed on the creature contained in the center of the sphere.

It was a huge silver knight armor that was at least thrice his size. It looked high-tech tech, probably from some futuristic world, but still, there were many arcane runes engraved on its plates glowing faintly. It probably would have looked great if it wasn't missing a few pieces and red fleshy tentacles similar to the ones outside gaping out from the missing parts.

Its gleaming metallic plates dulled only by the eerie crimson glow emanating from the tentacles writhing within its missing segments. Each gap in the armor pulsed as though alive as if the tentacles themselves were the creature's true flesh rather than some invasive parasite.

The juxtaposition of futuristic technology and ancient arcane runes was disorienting. The runes carved into the silver plates shimmered faintly, creating an odd contrast to the grotesque, organic tendrils that leaked from its form. Whatever this thing was, it was a fusion of machine and flesh, magic and monstrosity.

"So early to dismiss my story? I practiced so hard my storytelling skills you know?"

Sol forced a weak smile on his face and said:

"Sorry, the Outskirt rat like me doesn't know how to appreciate something classy like that."

The voice of the creature becomes a little amused.

"I see, rebellious one aren't you? Then it can't be helped. Let me be blunt with you."

Then the massive tech monster knight moved its body, spreading its arm with a loud mechanical sound and bones and flesh twisting followed by it.

"Become my child."