Chapter Text
"Curly hair, M on his chest, special armour."
Sophia charges into the fray.
"Curly hair, M on his chest, special armour." She extends her arm and opens the palm of her right hand. "Undam aeris," a burst of air knocks four soldiers back.
"Curly hair, M on his chest, special armour."
Two more soldiers push their way through the varvolači, about to raise their Glocks against the young witch, but she raises her left arm from low to high without looking at them. The ground around her lifts, and she quickly clenches her fist. "Globulos terrae" particles of soil compress instantly into solid balls "turba ictuum" and as Sophia extends her fingers forward, they shoot out like bullets at her enemies.
"I can’t waste time with you." She repeats the mantra in her mind, blocking out everything except the task at hand. "Curly hair, M on his chest, special armour."
Her eyes scan the battlefield, her gaze fixed on the different types of armour worn by the soldiers. They aren’t all the same—each reflects a specific rank and different equipment. "Only two are alike." Her allies are a blur. Her focus is singular: the enemy. She closes her eyes and turns her head slightly.
"Consurge et percutiens."
The remnants of crumbled bricks from the old village buildings launch themselves toward the approaching soldiers. They shatter and scatter with explosive force, leaving their attackers stunned and disoriented.
"Sophia!"
Her name shouts out from the chaos but remains unfazed, pressing forward. "That one looks different." She spots a higher-class soldier, his armor gleaming in the sun, far more advanced than the regular grunts. He’s running, heading somewhere with purpose. His armor is intricate, decorated with ornate designs, and he carries a massive rifle, something that looks more like a modified lamp.
"SOPHIA!"
Her name again, this time desperate, but she’s too focused.
"He’s wearing a helmet. He could have taken it from another soldier… Curly hair…"
"GET AWAY FROM THERE!"
The warning comes too late. Her mind is clouded with a single purpose—find him.
The beast, a massive Lycan, roars and shakes off two soldiers clinging to its fur. It charges forward, moving with terrifying speed. "Fuck," he mutters in frustration, but the chaos drowns out his voice. He tries to reach her. "Sophia, move!" he urges, though she doesn’t hear him.
Mere meters away, an Exosuit is barreling toward her, its pilot preparing for a strike. The robot’s shoulders lower, and its forearms extend—long, razor-sharp blades gleam under the light. The Exosuit accelerates, its momentum building as the pilot raises its elbow for a brutal running strike, aiming directly at Sophia.
Then, in a streak of motion, she’s gone.
Sophia is lifted off the ground with a force that makes her breath catch in her throat, the world spinning around her. She’s slammed into the dirt, but instead of the harsh impact she was expecting, something furry cushions her fall.
cough cough "What happened?" she says.
Her mind spins, confused. She barely registers the shift in position as her body is cradled by a strong arm.
"Are you ok?"
She blinks up, her vision still fuzzy.
"What…" She strains her eyes as she tries to push away whoever envelopes her.
The voice growls softly, almost tenderly, but it's unmistakably familiar. "Darling, you almost got yourself killed."
That voice. It’s Čalin—her Lycan.
He stands up, lifting her effortlessly in his arms, helping her straighten up. His gaze burns with intensity, his posture tense as he focuses on the Exosuit, which is struggling to free its blade from the ground.
The pilot inside the Exosuit reacts, and Čalin’s chest swells with fury. His lips curl back in a snarl as he bares his teeth.
"Stay here," he orders, his voice harsh with authority.
Before she can protest, he’s far. The speed at which he moves is a precise, his massive form darting toward the Exosuit with terrifying precision. Two other Lycans follow him, their movements synchronized, a primal force of destruction.
Čalin leaps at the Exosuit, his claws extended and ripping into the machine’s armor with ease. The others follow suit, their strength a powerful contrast to the delicate technology of the robot. Metal groans and screeches under their assault.
The Exosuit fights back, its pilot desperately trying to break free. But the Lycans tear through its outer shell with ruthless speed, their claws slicing through like paper. The machine’s joints lock up, and sparks fly from its broken limbs.
With one final, coordinated strike, the Exosuit collapses to the ground, a heap of mangled metal and twitching wires.
But the battlefield is far from quiet. More soldiers flood in, and varvolači emerge from the shadows, their eerie growls cutting through the chaos. The ground shakes beneath them, the storm of violence never stops.
Čalin returns to Sophia, his expression a mix of fury and concern.
"You ok?" he asks again, his voice softening as he brings a hand closer to her cheek.
Sophia nods, her breath coming in short gasps as she regains her composure. She looks up at him during the melee against the Exosuit, his partner's strength, speed and power were different. "You…look different." She hesitates, looking him over intensively. "Somehow, bigger, stronger, and faster...what happened to you?"
Čalin’s gaze softens. "It’s a long story."
"I saw Iolanda, or what remains of her." She hints
"Yeah, the two things are connected…but most importantly, that robot was about to kill you. Didn’t you hear me scream your name?" he says, pointing toward the broken Exosuit.
"I was looking for someone." She answers, looking away
"Someone more important than your own life?" He sighs, turning just in time to grab a soldier by the neck and throw him aside.
"The person who killed my uncle is here."
He gasps. "Are you sure?"
"Rebecca saw him. He even knows him, and he's here. I need to find him."
He tenderly touches the young woman's face, leading her to look into his eyes "Ok..."
"I HAVE to find him, Čalin." Her eyes are full of sadness and fury, a burning determination behind them.
"Then I’ll help you find him." He takes her hands in his, his voice softer.
"I think I saw someone else go in that direction." She points off into the distance.
Čalin looks toward where she indicates and notices a group of soldiers in various types of armour, locked in battle with the Dimitrescu sisters.
"Is he among them?"
Sophia frowns, her mind racing. "There are more of them than I thought...No," she mutters through her teeth “Let’s keep looking”
"Shouldn't we help your cousins?"
"I'm pretty sure they can handle themselves."
Out of the corner of his eye, Čalin sees Bela begin to transform into a whirlwind of insects that spins wildly around itself. "Maybe you're right."
She pushes forward, with Čalin at her side, as the battlefield around them rages on. They move through the chaos, clearing enemies from their path.
As they press on, Sophia’s thoughts churn, and she recalls Rebecca’s words: "There are only two soldiers with special armour—those are the ones you're looking for."
That realization hits her. "They’re not here..."
She says it softly, more to herself than anyone. From what Rebecca had told her, there should only be two soldiers in specialized gear—those are the ones she was searching for. But the soldiers she sees here are all wearing various types of armour connected to various weapons. "Something doesn't add up."
"What do you want to say?"
"It looks like the soldiers are of similar ranks but with different weapons. What have they been attacking you with so far?"
Čalin fiercely pushes away a soldier who is approaching with a short machine gun. "Plain bullets, silver, plasma, electric force."
She shakes her head, refocusing. "That's it, they're trying to see what can knock us out."
"Trying?"
"Yes, they're groping with us, they know our weak spots, but they didn't think we could outsmart them. Like my cousins and the cold... and here, during chaos, there are only replaceable and expendable infantry. The higher ranks are not here."
"They want only her."
"Yes, we need to get closer to my aunt. We need to keep moving," she says, her voice firm.
Čalin nods in agreement, his eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield. He grips her hand tighter.
They push through the battlefield together, a blur of motion among the chaos. They leave a path of destruction in their wake, cutting through enemies as they go. Every few steps, another soldier falls to the force of their attacks—Sophia’s magic and Calin’s ferocious strength tearing through anything that stands between them and their goal.
“We must get closer”
Lady Dimitrescu nella sua forma piu mostruosa si avvicina, attacca e si allontana dagli elicotteri, alternando anche attacchi a terra contro altri Exosuit e carroarmati nel villaggio. As they move closer to the heart of the battle, the sounds of combat intensify. Gunfire, roars, and shouts fill the air, but a strange stillness starts to hang over them, the air thick. The ground shakes.
The boy freezes. "Did you feel it?"
"Yes..."
"It's not their armoury."
The tremor is getting closer, like an earthquake that, instead of moving away from the epicentre, is getting closer and stronger.
"It's in the underground," she states, and then she realizes, “Oh my god, Čalin, where is the Megamycete?”
In the chaos and frenzy of battle, they lost track of where they were, focusing only on the battlefield.
The shaking stops.
Instinctively, he looks down. "We are on top of it."
Ba-DOOM!!!
An explosion rattles the ground beneath their feet, sending shockwaves through the field. The ground shakes violently, and dust clouds burst into the air as debris falls around them. The force of it knocks some of the soldiers off their feet, and the shockwaves ripple through the battlefield like a tidal wave.
They both kneel, Calin shields Sophia, while she enunciates “Aer clypeus” a transparent wall protects the two young people from the debris as they try to stand up. Sophia stumbles, her hand still tightly gripped by Calin, who holds her steady. "What the hell was that?" she gasps, trying to steady her breath.
Calin’s eyes narrow, scanning the smoke rising from the direction of the explosion.
The remaining soldiers pause, confusion spreading among them. The varvolači an lycans around them seem to hesitate, sensing the same shift in the air. It’s as if the explosion has momentarily fractured the battle, but they know it’s only a matter of time before things escalate again.
Without another word, they push forward, moving through the smoke and debris. They move faster now, their steps more urgent, until the dust begins to clear, revealing the outskirts of the ruined village. The scene before them is something out of a nightmare. The ground is cracked open, and there’s a tremor in the air as though something large is stirring beneath the earth.
The destruction from the explosion is visible now—a crater in the centre, with deep fissures running through the ground as if something massive had been unleashed. The air smells faintly of sulfur and burning metal.
Čalin’s grip on her hand tightened, his eyes locked on something beyond the smoke. “Look.”
They both turned toward the crater at the heart of the explosion. A thing was emerging from the depths, dragging itself into the light—a creature that shouldn’t exist.
The Kipepeo was a nightmare made real. Its multi-winged form stretched high into the sky, its massive, ragged wings reflecting the dawn’s light with an oily sheen. The grotesque blend of insects and flesh pulsed with an otherworldly energy. Its demonic head twisted, mandibles snapping with a menacing hiss as its multifaceted eyes scanned the battlefield.
“What is that thing?” Sophia whispered, unable to tear her gaze away.
Čalin growls, pulling her close protectively. “We’re going to need help. SHE is going to need help.”
A ferocious creature loomed before both of them like a nightmare-made flesh, a colossal behemoth that defied the natural world with its grotesque form. Its size was monstrous, rivalling the creature that had become Lady Dimitrescu, its body radiating unnatural power and a terrifying presence. The air around it seemed to tremble as the creature’s multi-winged structure unfurled, its wings resembling those of a grotesque insect—leathery and vast, their edges slick with an oily sheen that caught the dim light of the sunrise at its peak. Its mutilated body was covered in veined skin, but the colour beneath was anything but natural—its blood was black, corrupted, and putrid.
At the front of the beast was a horned, demonic humanoid head, a twisted parody of both human and insect features. Its eyes, glowing faintly with a sinister, pulsating light, were multifaceted and cold, scanning its surroundings with chilling intelligence. The curved mandibles at the front of its face snapped menacingly, their serrated edges capable of slicing through steel with ease. As it moved, its head twitched, almost like a predator calculating its next strike.
The body was a grotesque blend of insect and muscle, its spiny exoskeleton covered in sharp protrusions that glinted, occasionally catching the rising sun's rays. Along its back, rows of rigid spines stood erect, some twitching as if alive, their presence unnerving. The creature’s arms were numerous and slender, almost insect-like, tipped with sharp, segmented claws ready to tear through anything they could grasp. Multiple pairs of insectoid legs, shorter and ending in scythe-like claws, sprouted from its back, like a long external spine. Two enormous, ragged wings extended from its shoulders, torn and jagged, reminiscent of a moth or a massive butterfly, their veins running through them and edges frayed. These wings gave it a haunting, almost ethereal presence, yet they only added to its terror.
But it was the lower body of the monster that made it truly horrifying. An elongated, hideous mass of grotesque tendrils and cables extended outward from its lower half, moving with an unsettling, independent motion. These tendrils, like twisted appendages, contracted and writhed as though they were sentient, an extension of the creature’s distorted anatomy.
The monstrosity's lower limbs ended in elongated, claw-like legs that bent inward, revealing a deadly weapon: a second, circular mouth. This mouth was formed by three rows of jagged teeth, resembling a voracious lamprey, capable of latching onto any prey and tearing it apart in an instant.
There was no part of the creature's body that was not a deadly weapon.
Despite its immense size, the creature moved with surprising speed and predatory grace, as if every part of it was designed for the sole purpose of destruction.
Its appearance was an abomination—disturbing, unnatural, a horrible fusion of insect, humanoid, and nightmarish mutations. Its aggressive posture exuded an aura of malice as it prepared to strike, moving with an eerie fluidity. Its twisted wings and writhing tendrils gave it an almost supernatural aura, while its form suggested it was the result of a grotesque genetic experiment or mutation.
Sophia narrows her eyes, her focus dropping to the crater the creature emerged from. “It came from underground… and we’re standing on top of the Megamycete.”
The young Lycan stiffens. “What does that mean?”
Sophia’s voice drops, her words grim and certain. “They’re connected. That thing—whatever it is—came from there. If the Megamycete’s involved, then I need to go down.”
Čalin turns sharply, his disbelief evident. “You’re not serious. That’s suicide.”
She steps forward, gesturing toward the crater. “Look around! This is already insane, but we’re still standing. If that… thing came out of there, someone—or something—put it there. Maybe we’ll find answers. Maybe we’ll find a way to stop all of this. I need to get down there. Now.”
Čalin exhales, a frustrated growl rumbling from his chest as he watches her move closer to the crater’s edge. He halts a few meters behind her, raking a hand through his hair as his gaze drops into the jagged depths. “And how exactly do you plan to do that without getting yourself killed?”
Sophia doesn’t hesitate. She steps to the brink, her voice firm but steady. “I’ll use the roots underground. I can shape them into a path and lower myself—and anyone else—safely. All I need is a distraction.”
Her words linger in the tense air, daring him to challenge her determination. After a long pause, Čalin shakes his head, muttering under his breath, “You’re insane, you know that?”
Sophia flashes him a faint but resolute smile. “You’ve told me before.”
Čalin glances toward the soldiers in the distance, his posture shifting with resolve. “I’ll handle them. Keep them off your backs.”
Sophia kneels at the crater’s edge, her expression focused. The pit is vast, its diameter as monstrous as the creature now raging in the sky. Yet through the oppressive darkness, she senses the faint impression of a bottom, unreachable but present. She extends both hands toward the ground, her voice calm as she murmurs the spell "Plate radices tuas, pondus meum sustine et me ad imum huius foraminis ad fatum meum perfer".
The earth shivers beneath her, responding to her call. The vibration is not violent but steady, pulsing with life. A tentative root unfurls from the edge, growing thicker and wider until it forms the first step of a descending path.
Sophia glances back at Čalin, her eyes alight with determination. “See you later, Čalin.”
His gaze hardens, though the worry is unmistakable. “Promise me.”
She nods, a soft smile breaking through her resolve. “Promise.”
Without another word, she places one foot on the root, then the other, her movements deliberate as the path grows with each step. The descent is slow, but Sophia doesn’t falter.
As she continues, another root stretches toward her, curling gently around her torso and abdomen like a safety harness. She adjusts her footing and glances down into the shadowy abyss.
“Let’s go,” she whispers, her voice steady as she begins her journey into the unknown.