Threads of the Soul

Perhaps exploded wasn't the right term. While it wasn't inaccurate, perhaps something like erupted would be better. At least that would give to mind the image of volcanoes. The only reason for this mental self correction of Seth's was the sight of the viscous blue substance overflowing from the shattered windows of the pet store.

But even with that mental image this substance, while strangely familiar, was like no lava he had ever seen or imagined. Not that he had ever imagined blue lava before. If it wasn't for the mass of tentacles, he would have thought it was some giant water balloon. It took him a few seconds to figure out why exactly it was so familiar to him, but in the end how could he not recognise this particular jiggling mass of slime.

Even if it had grown to a ridiculous size and grown dozens of tendrils, enough to make certain artists blush, he still felt like he could hear the idiotic thoughts Cynthia was thinking as she squeezed her oversized body out of the collapsed ruins of the pet store.

The sudden emergence of his slimy friend caused a momentary pause across the battlefield. Fox, appearing out of thin air once again, gripped his blade tighter as he gazed at the flailing mass of tentacles that was their groups scout and archer. Yet instead of relief at seeing her take on such a massive and fearsome form, he had a grim expression. As if this action alone was truly emblematic of how truly dire their situation was.

Astra, on the other hand, barely paused for a second before he immediately went to work. Sparing Cynthia's enormous form a mere glance, she quickly hurried over to a fallen lamppost and tore the panel off the front.

As her blackened fingers tore out and fiddled with the cabling held within, desperately trying to find the right one, she kept glancing up at the beast to keep an eye on the situation while muttering to herself.

"She can't be the only one to make a dumb decision today."

The titanic turtle-like beast, however, only felt one thing. Pure, unyielding rage. Seeing this humongous blob emerge from its former home, flailing itself around as if to advertise how large and powerful it was, all whilst invading upon its most recent meal? Deep within the colossal body of the reptilian chimera, a new feeling was bubbling to the surface.

Something that it had never felt before its once meagre existence, not even when it was dominating and consuming all the other miserable 'pets' that it had been trapped alongside. It had survived, it had thrived. It had advanced well beyond what it had once been and into a new lifeform. A lifeform with new instincts, instincts that seemed to run centuries deep even though it had only spawned into being a mere few weeks ago.

Deep within the core of its being was a singular feeling that ensnared its rage, fuelling it further, as it glared at the new creature that had destroyed its former home and was invading its rightful territory.

Pride.

Letting out another fearsome and ear splitting roar the Shelled Drake, the true name of this horrific beast, made its challenge to this blob of slime perfectly clear. It was the apex predator here, and it would not take this offence lying down.

Twisting around its colossal body, the Shelled Drake lashed out with its tail. Sending the spiked morning-star smashing into the side of the gelatinous foe before dragging it through, tearing into the opponent's flesh with the deadly spikes arranged upon its tail tip.

Yet unlike before, this time Cynthia had blood to spill.

As the Drake tore its tail through her body, the transparent membrane that held her body together ripped like paper. As soon as her skin tore, a cascade of water gushed from the fresh wound, spilling across the ground and drowning the small puddles in the road in more water than they could handle.

Her body vibrated, echoing out the sound of a pain grunt, as the membrane forced itself closed and quickly stitched up the wound while the Drake was still recovering.

Whilst the liquid spilt was not blood, but simple water, and caused no actual harm to Cynthia. That didn't mean that it had no effect at all on her.

Although it was hard to tell for those on the ground, for the all seeing eye of the distance Seth, it was clear as day. It might have been a slight difference, but as she lost the watery blood, Cynthia had visibly shrunk.

However she had achieved this kaiju like form, it sacrificed her usual seemingly indestructible nature towards physical attacks.

Tendrils launched forward, lashing around the retreating tail and attempting to force it to stop, but the powerful muscles within the creature's colossal body were not a joke. Spitting in the face of the square cubed law, the muscles hidden underneath the rigid shell flexed, ripping the tail from Cynthia's control.

Even after it pulled its tail away, it still had some of her tendrils wrapped around the tail, yet they were not connected to the main mass of her body. Simply ruined remnants that were spilling out water and rapidly shrinking, flopping around as they did so like deflating balloons.

Forcing her bulbous body into a more streamline shape, Cynthia surged forward not as a mass of tentacles but as a single slimy serpent. Slipping past another strike from the Drakes tail, Cynthia coiled herself around its rigid body. Using the lack of mobility in its shell to her advantage, she wrapped her body around the shell to secure herself before wrapping the rest of her body around its neck.

The Drake snapped at the air with its powerful beaked jaws, but air was exactly all it managed to get. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't manoeuvre itself around far enough to chomp through its new scarf.

Not content to be a simple item of neck-wear, the serpent Cynthia hissed and bore her fangs. Fangs not made of water or slime, but the bronze dipped Khopeshes that she had previously wielded.

Like a blood starved vampire, Cynthia plunged her bronze fangs into the exposed throat of the Shelled Drake. Once, Twice, Thrice. Over and over she bit into it, trying to tear apart its thick hide with all her might. But even still, its hide was too thick to tear through in such a short amount of time.

With every bite, the Drake let out bellowing cries of pain. It's colossal body staggering to and fro, desperately trying to shake the starved viper from its grip so it could be the one doing the biting.

Smashing itself into buildings and dragging its belly across the ground, it tried everything to remove the slimy snake, even managing to catch it in its mouth one time. Yet when it bit down, popping the serpent's head like a grape and flooding its mouth with a refreshing drink of water, the serpent didn't die. It simply regrew its head and continued its relentless assault.

The other members of the hunting party weren't idle while the Drake was being ravaged by the serpent Cynthia. Fox was barely avoiding the desperate bites of the Drake as he used his blade to slash at the wounds caused by Cynthia's fangs, trying to carve his way through the thick flesh.

Even though the bites weren't meant for him, that didn't mean that they would be any less fatal. Being crushed in the maw of a giant turtle was not how he wanted to go.

Finally, after what seemed like a fruitless endeavour, a single drop of red dripped into the clear ocean of water surrounding their feet. Exactly what Seth had been waiting for.

With a single thought, and guided by the eyes of Corvus, Seth sent forth his fleet of nerd swords towards the colossal beast. Blade after blade, all in a single line, rocketed through the air. Their steel glinting, a visible cue to the one person that needed it.

Every single blade of the nerd fleet was aimed at a single point, a carved out wound in that impossibly thick hide. The single wound that was dripping with the faintest trail of crimson blood. But the Drake wasn't sitting still just waiting to be stabbed. Even with Cynthia forcing her body around it further in an attempt to restrain it.

Many of the blades sparked off of the scales as the Drake squirmed in defiance. But all he needed was one. How ironic it was, that the silver blade of a famed monster hunter was what finally plunged through the open wound. Sinking itself into the tender flesh underneath, they had finally penetrated the impenetrable defences of the Shelled Drake.

Yet that tiny blade, no better than a toothpick compared to the size of this beast, was not enough to slay it. Then again, who said it had to?

A single blackened finger pointed towards the throat of the Shelled Drake, honing in on the chunk of metal jutting out of its thick flesh.

Astra's eyes, from the pupil to the sclera, glowed a bright and startling blue. Her long, silky smooth hair floating in the air as it danced in a non-existent wind.

With a handful of wires clutched in her hand, bolts of electricity sparking off her body like a Tesla coil, she spoke a single word through gritted teeth. Her voice quivering with pain, barely a whisper, yet any that heard it would have felt the icy hand of death clutching tight around their throat. Like the voice of death itself, She spoke.

"Burn."

And the world turned white.