A great wind howls. Once dormant; now riled and awake.
I believe it is two, maybe three days since that thing began its hunt. Fortunately, I've managed to absorb more threads into mine while exploring the rest of the ruined facility. A few dozen. My thread is more vibrant now.
And not only that, I have figured out something utmost intriguing.
Amidst his venture, he fidgets with a long thin thread of invisible energy from one pointer finger to the other.
I realized I can manifest and manipulate the mysterious energy these threads seem to be made of—though my own thread dims with extensive use.
He flexes his fingers and the long thread thrums.
It seems I can only make threads out of the energy, though I can attach them to things and leave them there until they fade, after about an hour. I can make them sharp, too.
Slow, careful steps up a slope of concrete inside a deep crater with a mediocre fissure running down its middle. A sort of strange warmth permeates from the fissure. A warmth in which he has no intention of seeking.
The sky above darkens as a fleet of clouds moves across the sky.
That supernatural phenomenon that defiled the sky and time itself seems to have passed. And a storm is brewing. I can smell it.
Moving to the lip of the fissured crater, he pauses to examine his surroundings.
Desert, lots of it—at least, what used to be desert, once-bare dunes now an outstretching landscape of snow-covered hills and ice-crusted ravines. An everlasting snowfall careens down from the skies. It feels as though everything is consumed whole by an Ice Age.
Any regular human cannot survive out here. Even I'm only persisting because of this body.
He steps in one direction. North.
. . .
Fwwshhhh... fwssshhhhhhh...
The harsh howling of wind. Gusts of snow. An intense blizzard persists.
It has been six hours since I've departed from that ruined facility. Three since this blizzard began.
Snow clings to his garment, only to be once again brushed off with his hand. His gaze meticulously sweeps across his surroundings in search for something, squinting.
I can sense it. It is still following me, but at a distance.
It is cautious, but hungry.
Hhhhhhrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh...
He pauses mid-step, glancing over his shoulder. Why? Because it, too, has stopped.
"Finally. You decide to make your move, mutt." A wry grin.
Ffmp-ffmp-ffmp-ffmp!
Rapid footfalls approach through dense snow from his rear.
"I'll also make my move then!"
The ground quakes. Snow erupts in a swiveling, rising whirlwind beneath his feet as he twists awry on his heel.
The wretched, vile beast lunges into the interposing wall of white snow. Its deformed, enormous claw rips through the air, swiping at nothing but the falling snow that obscures its vision, and hides its assumed prey.
Its hundred hundred eyes that plague its absurdly twisted, vile form narrow, sharply. A vague silhouette shoots past, moving toward its flank. And it is quick to react in accordance to its prey, promptly swiveling on its hind legs to slam the whole of its enormous mass into its prey.
Shrrk!
But it finds little of its mass to slam into such with, as a visceral tear of its vile flesh precedes the separation of its head from its torso, in a frightening display of sheer physical strength.
A soft thud resounds in the wake of his landing a few feet away from the decapitated monstrosity. He swipes his right arm aside, discarding its liquidly remnants from such, before casting an indifferent look down at the monstrosity.
"How unwise, blindly lunging at the unknown, out of hunger. But, I suppose I should not have expected more from a—"
Sllchhh...
The twisting of flesh.
"..Good. I was going to be disappointed if that was all you amounted to."
He watches as the twitching, headless monstrosity slowly rises from the ground. A guttural thrum sounds from its mass.
A wicked grin twists his pale visage, only for him to suddenly push off his feet to strike the side of its mass with his balled fist. Though, it does not hit his desired mark, as the headless monstrosity seemingly disappears into thin-air, replaced with a fading, wispy darkness.
He is quick to act, twisting on his heel to throw his opposite leg upwards.
Swwooosh!
Predictable.
Just as he anticipates, the monstrosity reappears directly at his flank, already in the process of reeling one of its enormous claws overhead to rip them into his back, only to be suddenly struck with his foot, and sent sliding several meters.
An instinct-driven beast will always attack from behind.
He does not relent, swiftly slamming the same foot down into the ground to send a devastating quake through the ground, further staggering the struggling monstrosity, which attempts to stand back upright, only to be met with a third attack by what it previously assumed was only its prey.
Soundless, quick footfalls.
His hand swathes through the air—and so do a myriad of threads, like a spider's web, which overtake the monstrosity's form and render it into a hundred slabs of visceral mass.
It would've been howling and crying in pain, that is if it still had something to do such from.
What remains of its sundered form haphazardly sways, only to soon tumble listlessly onto the ground like a serving of finely cut pancakes and fall still.
How unsightly.
He approaches the corpse and pauses, for a sudden desire overtakes him. It is all-encapsulating. As though everything that was important to him was right here. So much so that he nearly drools, and before he can even comprehend it...
KRRRK-KRRUNCH.
A flash of an all-encapsulating maw. And it was no beast's.
His vision returns. He staggers and sways from side to side, his head aching terribly so. He shakes it, looking around. He stands right before the monstrosity—or rather, what remains of it, which is very little. Only dark, viscous ichor staining the snow. Its sundered form had... vanished?
What? Is it still alive?!
He spins on his heel and observes his surroundings, yet finds nothing to indicate such. He instinctively raises his left hand to wipe at his mouth, as one does after a fine dining meal, and finds viscous ichor across his lips.
Did I..?
. . .
The blizzard that engulfs the unholy plane wanes, as it sometimes does. He peers into the distance and studies the towering shapes ahead, buildings tall and small rising from the haze. A city, buried beneath a dense blanket of eternal frost.
I came across many torn and desolate structures during my time in these strange lands, along with many lingering corpses. More threads to consume.
It will not be long before I have a hundred in reserve. Strangely enough, I have not felt any need to eat or sleep. After that encounter with that... thing, I've felt satiated. Which leads me to believe that I consumed it, somehow.
Alongside that, my threads did not increase in vibrancy. Perhaps because I did not take them from it, but instead consumed it.
He continues to study the distant city.
While there are likely many threads to consume there, it certainly will not be without any monstrosities. I'd rather not encounter something I have no chance in defeating.
Thus, he opts to move counter-clockwise around the city's perimeter, and continue North.
. . .
Cold. Wind. Snow.
The blizzard rages on, yet again.
And so do I.
Snow whips about his face and down his coat, but he does not flinch from the cold.
Fwwshhhh...
Whup-whup… whup-whup…
A distant sound rides the howling wind into his sensitive ears. He lifts his head and narrows his eyes, trying to catch whatever moves beyond the white veil that is the harsh blizzard.
Whup-whup… whup-whup… whup-whup...
Something is approaching. No. Two. Both cutting through the sky, fast.
He concentrates intently.
One is veering away.
****
Roughly two hours earlier, deep within an undisclosed facility in the southern Nevada desert, approximately 120 miles northwest of Las Vegas.
The lead researcher clears his throat and speaks first, tablet in hand. "Everyone, listen. Seventy six hours ago, we detected irregular thaumaturgic spikes from inside the Arizona black zone." He taps the screen, showing a more clearer satellite feed of the frozen blotch, with several different thaumaturgic signatures displayed across. "These spikes, while miniscule, are completely unnatural, and do not share any similarities to what should have been recorded. And the source seems to be moving."
The second researcher takes his place beside him. "The movement is measured at a steady pace. It is not residual energy. We believe it to be an anomaly."
One of the operatives raises a hand. "Is this related to A-1314-3?" The first researcher glances down, then shakes his head. "It is believed to be an entirely separate anomaly, which was previously contained at the site. S-1119."
The operatives shift slightly, some in unease. The lead researcher continues, "S-1119 was one of three living anomalies housed at Romero-5. It was kept under stabilization by A-1314-3, and its status was listed as neutralized following the Emergence for nearly a decade after the presumption that it was destroyed."
The second researcher folds his arms and adds, "Satellite data shows the movement beginning roughly three days ago, heading North from the site."
An operative in the back frowns. "If it was not destroyed, and instead dormant, what exactly woke it?" The first researcher exhales. "We do not know. A-1314-3's collapse might have disrupted the cradle that kept S-1119 inert. Or…" He pauses, eyes drifting toward the satellite feed. "Or it awoke on its own." The room grows quiet.
Another operative steps forward. "What are its capabilities?" The second researcher gestures to his tablet. "Unfortunately, we have very little on record regarding it or what it can do, likely because the project is highly classified and personally overseen by one of the late Administrators. All that we know is that they were trying to awaken it. Him."
"So we are going in blind," the same operative states. The lead researcher shakes his head and says, "Not exactly. This mission is not to terminate him, but safely extract him. He is considered a high-priority asset, believed to be highly intelligent, and hopefully not a threat."
The lead researcher steps forward again. "Your objective is simple. Locate S-1119. Confirm stability. Extract if possible. Avoid engagement unless it is forced. If he is aware, cooperate. If he is not, do not provoke him. He likely has little to no knowledge concerning his circumstances, or well, really anything. We cannot be certain, though."
A brief pause, soon followed by the tall, bulky man standing beside the researchers stepping forward. "And remember, we might not be alone. There are several groups of interest that monitor the black zone since the Emergence Incident - some've shown themselves to be quite opportunistic. We must locate S-1119 before they do, y'hear? 'Cause if they get to it first, we lose any chance of controllin' this situation."
The lead researcher adds, "If you encounter another party, avoid contact unless it is unavoidable. Do not trust their intentions. Your only objective is S-1119. Lethal force is authorized only if it is necessary, is that understood?"
The operatives nod in unison and shout, "Yes, sir!" The lead researcher closes his tablet and steps back.
The tall, bulky man then states, "Prepare for immediate departure. We're liftin' off in twenty."
***