Rather than dipping through the shadows, this time, the man flung himself forward as a construct of light, blending into the element devoid of physical mass as he moved with unrestrained speed.
It was only with his adrift mind that the lone human stood against the boundless monster, able to navigate through what could only hardly be recognized as "speed", instead moving between thin lines that resembled a compressed version of the scenery around him.
Everything seemed to warp in front of his vision as he moved as light itself, bouncing from wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-ground, instantaneously, dozens of times.
"Evelynne…Evelynne…" The monstrous figure grumbled, turning side-to-side as it attempted to keep track of the speeding figure.
The abyssal-structured figure suddenly lunged, thrashing its limbs as it howled out, causing a malevolent storm of destruction in its path.
Intercepting it, the man dashed down as a flash of light, leaving behind a radiant slash that etched itself through the tar-like flesh of what was once Krimjaw. Though just as he passed by, the man knew he had miscalculated–
"...Evelynne! Where are you?!"
As the creature howled out, ignoring any pain it suffered or damage done to its own body, its tendrils expanded, moving with impossible speed.
SQUELCH
Through his right shoulder and his left side, the silver-haired man found the shapeless limbs of the abyssal horror piercing him.
"Ngh…!"
As the tendrils penetrated his flesh and bone seamlessly, it felt as though acid spread itself through the marrow of his bones; a foreign essence that his body rejected.
'....Damn!' He thought.
He pressed through the pain, quickly using his daggers forged of light to cleave through the dark limbs that stabbed him, freeing himself as he jumped back. Just as he did, he witnessed the cavalry arriving at last: dozens of members of the cult, dressed in their obscuring, black uniforms rushed out from the halls.
Keeping his weapons ready, the man huffed, breathing out as blood and sweat dripped down his chest, looking at the desecrated chamber filled with countless enemies in his path.
It was hard to tell what exactly the cultists' aim was; it seemed that they weren't directly concerned with him, rather they were holding their weapons and spells up towards "Krimjaw", or "Dread", itself.
"Evelynne…Where are you? Daddy is here…He's here now…" The abyssal monstrosity sobbed, slumping its arms down as it repeated the same name, over and over.
In the face of the irrational existence of the reincarnation of Dread, even the maddened cultists looked perplexed.
"Sir Krimjaw…?" One of them slowly muttered out.
"Is that him?"
"It doesn't matter now," one of the cultists said, readying a pair of blackened fireballs in his hands, "Orders are to detain the emerged Asp–"
Before the word could fully unravel itself from the figure's tongue, the top half of the cultist's head was removed in an instant. Blood and brain matter sprayed onto the floor, as well as the robes of the stunned members behind the slain figure.
"Wha–"
"Attack!"
"Don't let up! It's an Aspect–don't hold anything back!"
The swiftness of the abyssal tentacles sprouting from the monstrosity's back were nearly impossible to perceive as they swept through a pair of cultists, slicing them in half at the waist. At the same time, Dread lunged, allowing its arm to claw through the flesh of the grunts nearest to it as a spray of blood showered down.
"Seal it!"
"Do it now!"
Forming a loose perimeter around the tar-skinned inhuman, the cultists brought their hands together, summoning a malevolent gathering of mysticism that manifested itself quickly:
The silver-haired man kept his distance, watching the battle unfold as an enormous set of black-and-silver pillars appeared, dropping down around Dread.
An immeasurable pressure weighed down on the space caught between the ominous pillars, forming supernatural chains suspended around a grinning face of a demon that looked down upon the sealed area.
It was a technique that the silver-haired man had witnessed before: part of the forbidden arts wielded by the organization, a sealing ability that restrained supernatural phenomena entirely.
Yet–
[An unholy anomaly has breached this world.]
The pillars crumbled away in the wake of a boundless wave of ominous wind, shuffling outward with the permanence of malevolence found only in the darkest depths of the abyss.
Even for the maddened cultists, those who had their own sanity long since decayed, the unbearable feeling of hopelessness shattered even their egos: it was a tangible sensation, as if the breath of a beast capable of incarnating all of the worst horrors grazed their skin. The cultist members were overtaken by this unavoidable feeling.
This was "Dread"--it's unrestrained essence.
Before any of the cultists could react to the failure of the sealing process, the blur that was the monstrous entity flung by, leaving behind it a rain of mincemeat.
Any attempt at flinging mystical assaults in its direction were proven fruitless as the ominous figure slid by, cutting through all flesh in its path, all the same.
"We can't contain it…!"
"Retreat!"
"Call for one of the Chosen!"
"It wo–"
In droves, the fodder-used members of the cult were eviscerated by Dread as a consequence of its existence; the entity didn't so much as focus on any of them, only exterminating their lives by accident, as if stepping onto ants on the soil.
All the silver-haired man did in the assault that lasted no more than thirty seconds was witness it: a mist of blood and a rain of scattered flesh filled the broken laboratory, as the only one left standing from the short attempt at containment was the Primordial Aspect itself.
He stood on the stone bridge that overlooked the base floor of the chamber, looking at the lonesome, tar-skinned being that stood in the center of the crimson downpour.
It was anything but human; so far removed from it that it might as well be the devil itself–-an incarnation of malice so deeply vile that it should be impossible for it to hold any human traits.
'This is different from the reports of what happened during the Trial when Dread broke out before. Whatever it is, it seems the organization has a method of granting a higher level of incarnation for these Primordial Aspects–this Dread is more pure than the last, yet unrefined–it's a mad dog,' the man thought.
In the face of something of such power, the man felt himself retreating from the thought of total victory and instead setting his sights on the one thing that had managed to survive the disaster within the laboratory: the young girl of snow-white hair was still suspended in a tank, unconscious of the situation.
'...Jin. That's my name. Hold onto it. I have to keep it together–I'm going to rescue that girl and get out of here. The reincarnation of Dread changes things…This new method of Primordial incarnation, the Foundation needs to know this,' Jin thought.
It was easier said than done, though. Between him and the unconscious girl was Dread itself, who had stopped his sobbing, instead now spreading his sooty, tar lips as its distorted laughter echoed through the area:
"...GA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!"
Even worse, despite the boundless mana temporarily flowing through his body, the man felt his heart continue worsening in its condition, feeling as though it was tightening in his chest as he stood up, looking towards the monstrosity.
'Maybe I can win. But, is that my goal…? I was ready to die, but now I have something to live for–if just a bit longer,' Jin thought.
As he set his sights on the girl suspended in slumber within the container, he dashed in with his boundless speed. The quick burst from him was quickly returned with a wild thrash from Dread, who whipped his tendrils around in a long, sweeping range.
Each one of the limbs of the abyss were the embodiment of death; a single touch or graze would suffice to bring one to the other side. Jin knew this; he moved with his complete focus being on avoiding those thoughtless, chaotic tentacles as he slid across the floor, avoiding the sweeping strike of one.
"Evelynne—! Nobody will take her away from me! Nobody! Nobody! Nobody!" The monstrous entity howled as he relentlessly allowed his tendrils to strike towards the man.
The pace was kicked up by Jin, who found himself having to maximize his acrobatic skills as he flipped around and bent his body to avoid the death whips.
Even with bursts of speed that tapped into the element of light, negating his mass, he was still being forced back by the repeated swipes of the abyssal limbs.
It was too focused; the intent was clear as Dread stood there with his arms spread as if shielding the pod in which the unconscious girl was kept.
'He's…defending the tube?!' Jin realized.
Such an act from something devolved far past the chasms of humanity was simply inconceivable to him, yet there it was, defending the pod as if it were a parent protecting its own. Perhaps it was the lack of his own soul, but he found himself distanced from the hardened mindset he held true to himself all this time–for some reason, he found his hands shaking.
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