Dear God,
That is the only thought that must’ve crossed all our minds. Followed shortly by a question. How could so great a tragedy reach such a great country as ours? We suspected the Empire Of China might seek to launch such a move against us, eventually. But not in such a way.
You people look to me for a solution. But I don’t have the answers you want to hear. I see the need for a leader, and I’ll provide one for you. We may never heal over such a great devastation. Hell! We cannot even go outside without our skin boiling away.
But together, we’ll find a way to continue.
Among you, pick our security. We shall fortify the bunker and prevent the monsters outside from getting in. Then we’ll try to make contact with others. If we’re suffering, others in this country must be as well.
Look to me, and I’ll lead us to safety, as I always have for us, the great American people.
-Former President Rosewell, Orders After The Burning (1, 3rd Era)
Erec dived towards the near mimic to him, one of those metallic-red-eyed creatures that dared to challenge him. Each step drew out of his Fury, letting it swirl and fuel into a brighter fire. When he reached the monster, his whole body felt aflame. His axe flew through the air and crashed past the enemies’ defenses, slamming it into the barrier behind it.
But the edge didn’t connect with its skin. Though Erec overpowered it, the mimic still had a portion of his Strength from a minute before.
So, since the axe wasn’t doing the trick, Erec broke off their struggle and kicked the thing in the chest.
His foot went clean through, exploding the copy against the membrane behind it in a burst of clear-colored gore and shriveled metallic skin.
With that kill, the bubble began to shiver and shift, with each murder after the living wall cried out in that sharp pain. Two more copies came out after he cleared up a couple; their eyes glowed more red, reflecting him as he sunk deeper into his power.
But if he could hurt it, then surely he’d win.
Erec ran through the copies as fire spilled out of him, fully blown into hell. There was a tactical thinking to it as he watched their movements and weaved between them. Since the oldest ones were the weakest, if he killed them first, he could use them to continue heating up, then deal with the next oldest.
Efficient slaughtering. That was the trick to victory.
Erec landed near another Colin clone and flung his battle axe at the second one that’d spawned. It thunked into the mimic’s chest, killing it. With one of his hands, he grabbed the collar of the Colin clone nearest to him. Then, using his other hand, he grabbed it by the throat. With a firm grip, all he had to do was pull.
The neck stretched longer than it should have, and the shrill whistle intensified.
With a sound like a popping balloon, the reflective flesh tore apart, bursting and erupting into a geyser of transparent lifeblood.
“Holy f-fuck—“ Colin screamed after watching his copy get beheaded.
Erec tossed the deflated skull left in his hand at one of the clones, clearing the gap between them.
It didn’t do much to deter the foe, but as he saw, the course of its predicted ghost changed. Enough for him to effectively dodge another of his doubles that landed next to him, its axe narrowly avoiding scalping him.
More. This was fantastic.
He spiraled forward, tackling the enemy so the edge of their axe couldn’t land. But, as he saw, it still bit into his Armor, drawing blood as it cleaved through the steel like butter. That wasn't surprising with the vast amount of Strength thrown around. The mimic struggled as Erec wrestled it to the ground, losing hold of its axe. All the while, Erec let fury consume and ignite into a molten fire.
Burn.
He cracked a fist into the thing’s head the same second its fist hit his chest, caving in the metal and clearing his lungs of any air they had.
Kill.
Erec growled as he bashed its head against the ground.
[Move!]
He shifted, an axe tearing along his side and digging into his ribs, nicking him and smashing into the mimic beneath, popping the thing and killing it as its transparent viscous blood exploded on the ground. Erec stumbled away, blood pouring from his back as he took in the situation.
Five, there were five more of him left.
It’d opted not to make any more clones of Colin, recognizing both the strongest threat. It knew that’d he target those first as they were the easiest to kill, and with every kill, he only got deeper into his Strength.
One of them charged him, a weaker one, based on the low glow of its eyes. Erec ripped its arm off with one sickening tear and smashed the steel skin against its head as it collapsed.
The mimics tore into him, trading blows as he fought back. Drawing further and further from the deep well within that was Fury. This was it; life or death, with no concept of when anyone might burst past this monster and save them. A battle worth dying for; was there ever a greater enemy than himself? A stronger foe than one that could match him every step of the way?
Erec tore, bled, and yelled, the heat in his chest a bonfire as Fury burned in full, almost with the heat of a star.
But it only made the monster stronger. It cried its shrill whistle, and its outer edges undulated as it felt the pain of loss, as Erec faced each of its little offspring and tore them to shreds for daring to face him.
As his blood spilled across the ground, the red vision edged with black. His body felt heavier even as he burned away the feeling of intense agony from the wounds. He saw their ghosts move about and moved to react to them, but with so many moving just shy of what he was capable of, it was impossible to dodge all of them at once.
From five, it became seven. From seven, it became ten. From ten, it became twelve.
Bleed for me.
Erec yanked one's head apart, stole a fake axe, and buried it into its owner. He turned anything they gave him into a weapon to kill more of these copies of himself.
Undeniably though, and in a way the Stag couldn’t, these copies tore him apart. Ate him.
Each of them took their little bit of his flesh as the price for their demise.
His body shook with effort as he took in as much air as he could; the inside of his Armor felt like the sun, burning away whatever he had left.
At any moment, his life could end.
Erec screamed, smashing one of their skulls into a piece of jagged and twisted metal before beating aside an edge of an axe, wincing as the blade tore through his steel and skinned his arm.
To struggle was the meaning of life.
He backed away from the crowd, Fury still pumping him full of hate and rage. He wondered if his enemy also had crossed the threshold in this fight. Reached a point where it either had to win or die. Most predators opted to pick targets carefully, lest they receive enough damage back to kill it, regardless of if it won or not. Did it regret picking him?
Erec leaked blood in his helmet as VAL ranted and screamed, trying to convince him to find a way to run.
There wasn’t a place to run. He knew that, and VAL knew that. The bubbling layer of metallic flesh was everywhere around him, but he’d fight it. Fight it all and kill as much as he could before his light went out.
He looked down at his blood-coated fingers, pulling at that last bit of fire in him, burning white hot. Hotter than it’d ever been before. His fingers burst into a silver flame; it coated his steel arm and numbed the flesh beneath it. Erec looked at the slowly approaching copies of himself; they were just extensions of this monster. Pieces of it that it’d sent to digest the humans it’d consumed. And now, those pieces were moving slowly, cautious about taking him on recklessly, not after paying as much blood as they had. If he was weakening, surely it must be as well.
Around them, though… That living metal. That’s where they came from: the monster making these clones.
If he was going to die, so would it.
Erec charged the reflective barrier, leading with his hand drenched in silver flames.
His fingers clawed through the surface, but unlike hitting it with an axe, they didn’t rebound. The shrill whining around him increased, and blood ran in small rivulets from his ears as he dug into the enemy's surface like clay. Knowing it was in pain, he wanted to make it hurt more. His other hand joined the first, tearing through it, yanking chunks off, and throwing the metal flesh behind him.
Transparent ooze leaked from the patch of steel flesh he tore; the silver fire of his hands spread outward from the point of contact, sinking into the lifeblood beneath and setting its ‘innards’ ablaze.
All around him, it was screaming, whining, crying.
It begged him to stop. It was fucking dumb. No way in hell would it be getting free now that it was in his grip. They’d be going to the afterlife together, or he’d win. The world began to twist and turn in his vision, but he didn’t stop, spilling forth the silver flame he managed to find deep within him.
His fire flared bright and left him; the blazing soul fire came freely and burned into the monster deeper than any mortal being could see. It quivered and fought back—around him, the mimics of himself grabbed at him, trying to pull Erec away, but his grip was like a vice, locking him into this thing as he burned both himself and it from the inside out.
Awful bile rose up his throat and spewed out of his mouth. Black stuff that tasted unholy and worse than rotten manure; his head went light as he fought to maintain some semblance of reality.
With every second that passed, with each bit of silver flame that came outward from him, he felt further removed from the world. As if looking through eyes that weren’t his own and were growing further away. This was to be death, then. Was that the key to this silver flame? Fury’s little part of hell that channeled through him and burned into this world from the beyond?
The metallic sheen that would’ve served as their coffin blasted apart; a spear tip burst through the shrill whining as metal flesh flew inward and transparent lifeblood caked the ground. The clones of himself gave up trying to grab at Erec. Instead, they lept into the remainder of the mimic, bleeding back into its surface as a blob of reflective skin pulled itself together. After which, it fled with tufts of silver fire still burning in the holes. Within seconds it’d dived into a manhole and escaped them.
Erec sank to his knees, pulling his helmet off as more black bile came up from his gut, vomiting on the ground as blood ran down his arm to mingle with whatever hellish concoction was leaving his body.
Dame Robin flew to his side, hands wrapping around his head even as more of the never-ending torrent of disease and sickness gripped him. “You’re safe now! Thank the Goddess!”
“Father!” Colin cried out, his voice almost like a ghost to Erec’s ears.
Erec broke Robin’s hold of him, more bile coming up as his vision filled with black.