Chapter 140 - The Cold Embrace

Muddied water sprayed the surroundings as Zin exploded from his position. Brock’s Dexterity was just high enough to detect his movements, and with Silence, he forced his body to lean left. The wind howled as an outstretched brushed past his neck, the raw speed rendering his skin red raw with friction.

I… can do this!

As the demon’s momentum carried him forward and his brows furrowed in shock, Brock spun on his feet and launched his fist forward. The collective might of his stats and aura enhancement impacted Zin directly in the stomach, and he coughed, stumbling backwards. It wasn’t enough to seriously damage him, but it was enough that he certainly felt the blow.

“You…” he snarled, before coughing once more, clearly winded.

Growling as the image of violet blood flashed in his mind, this time accompanied by Mio’s impassive face, Brock sent his other fist flying. Zin quickly regained his bearings and batted Brock’s fist aside, the sensation of new flesh against silk sending uncomfortable chills down his spine.

About as fast as he could blink, Brock found a fist in his own stomach. Time stalled for a moment. Then blood and bile sprayed from his mouth, and he exploded backwards. Limp and gasping for air, Brock skimmed over the swamp like a pebble, the world spinning around and around and arou-

He slammed into an iron-wood trunk and another surge of bile followed.

Through blurred sight, Brock glanced up where Zin had been only moments prior. He was gone. Within the millisecond, he wrapped Silence around his leg and tugged. A barrage of icicles punctured his previous position and render it a wasteland of spikes and frozen waters. Slowly, the permafrost was spreading.

“I’ll admit, Brock,” Zin hovered above the icy water, the edges of his robe collecting a glistening frozen sheen. His name was spat with utter mockery, “you’ve certainly grown far more powerful than I expected you to. My accomplice will enjoy studying you immensely.”

Accomplice? Brock stressed as he climbed back to his feet. He glanced around suspiciously. There’s another one? He has help?

A snort cleaved through the silence of the area and Brock felt fingers close in on the back of his head. A chill went down his spine as the voice of Zin Keene resounded in his ear, “Don’t worry. He’s off world. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

Brock’s world churned and his face slammed into the earth, mud enveloping his face as the water sprayed in every direction. Zin was trying to choke him unconscious. His voice resounded again, this time a note darker, “Alive, hopefully.”

Under his iron grasp, Brock struggled to no avail, feeling his lungs gasp for air and be met only with wet mud and algae. In a moment of inspiration, he used Silence to burrow a small air tunnel from his mouth to the surface, and air filled his lungs. I need to… escape…

“You’re resourceful, I’ll give you that.”

Cold air entered his air tunnel, and Brock felt his lungs growing stiff. He quickly held his breath. Growling mentally, Brock envisioned Zin’s demonic face and sent Silence stabbing toward his eyes. An overpowering aura countered his attack, but the brief moment of defense saw his grip weaken.

Brock’s arm blurred over his shoulder and grabbed Zin’s own, and he spun, picking himself up from the mud and wrapping his legs around the man’s arm. Two slitted pupils met his own. Amused, infuriated.

“Hey asshole,” Brock snarled, feeling Mio’s blood staining his shirt, “Fuck you.”

With a jerking motion and assistance from Silence, a sickening crack rang out, and Zin’s arm bent backwards at the elbow. A curse echoed and Brock’s world was spinning before he even knew what was happening. His back impacted against a rock, and he vomited, his momentum stalled instantly.

Well, that worked… Brock suppressed the flaring pain emitting from his entire back. Somewhat…

His eyes moved upward and traced the enraged form of Zin. His right arm was hanging limply from the elbow down and his face was twisted in a snarl of fury. Brock couldn’t even see a shred of pain portrayed within his expression. Another throb of agony from his back reminded him that they weren’t the same.

One was a monster capable of literally ripping his head off, while he was just Brock Carter. And he knew that that was enough.

Slowly, he rose to his feet and readied himself. Zin blurred, and he dodged. A fist travelled and the air crackled. Another gunned toward him, and Brock did everything he could to guide it away. The pure force it contained blistered his skin and tore his clothing, but the impact was diverted.

Again and again, fist rained down on his position, and Brock dodged, ducked, diverted and dived as powerful blow after powerful blow assaulted him. Silence worked in concert with his stats and the chains of Ethereal Shackles to obtain some semblance of control in the brawl. A low growl had long begun to echo from Zin’s throat and from how bloodshot his eyes were, Brock could tell he was getting mad.

Brock’s arm snapped left as he pushed a fist under his armpit, and he countered using the opening, his fist striking the man in his ribs. They creaked but remained steadfast. Instantly, Brock fell to the ground, ducking under a wave of cutting ice. A sword fell toward his position next, and Brock used the flat of Lament to guide it into the waters beside him.

The blade bent and metal shaved off, but it was enough. Water exploded upward, and Brock stabbed Lament down at Zin’s feet. The tip pierced into one of his bare feet and broke past the skin, nailing his foot to the mud below. Brock glanced at the other as it snapped toward him and caught him in the jaw.

Ahhh, fuck. The world went white, and he felt wind slash at his limbs. He blinked, and sight returned to him in splotches, detailing clouds, a darkening sky, and a distancing landscape of muddied waters and dying trees. Ahhh, double fu-

He felt a foot impact his lower back and the tip of a blade scrape his spinal cord. His sight blurred and mud met his descent. Fortunately, it softened his landing somewhat, creating a crater and forcing him to spew his blood out to the side.

Unfortunately, he still hit the earth at a highattitude. His brain sloshed against his skull, and nausea assaulted him as he retched and gasped for air. He felt Zin’s aura appear beside him, tearing through space, and a hand wrapped around his throat.

“It’s my fault. I know,” A fist landed in his stomach, and he felt his organs pulp, “I should have just dealt with you immediately. I just enjoyed playing with you so much.”

Another punctuated the ending of his sentence, and Brock rocked back, feeling his body almost detach from his neck. Amidst the dribbling of blood and his slowly returning sight, Brock felt his pink arm grow cold. Icy cold.

No…

He glanced at Zin’s grinning face, then at the ice creeping up his arm, reaching up toward his body. If it reached his head, he’d die. Zin didn’t seem to want to kill him, but from the seething rage in his eyes, Brock didn’t trust that assertion anymore.

Are you fucking serious?

Already, he could no longer feel his arm. Ice was slithering up his bicep, sending frosted pain shooting through his limb. Gritting his teeth so hard he felt them preparing to shatter, Brock grabbed his arm with Silence of the Abyss.

And he pulled.

“AAUUURRGHGGHH!”

His scream echoed throughout the area as his arm was torn off, crimson blood spraying freely and painting the waters below crimson. A frosted arm flopped to the ground and a grunt followed from Zin’s mouth, “I respect your resolve.”

Through tears and agony, Brock glanced at Lament, still stabbed through Zin’s foot. Silence covered his removed arm and animated it. As it crept toward his blade, Brock met Zin’s slitted eyes. He felt disgust surged as he witnessed the amusement w-

A pain flared from his gut. He looked down, finding Lament implanted within his stomach. Underneath, his arm had shattered to shards of bloody ice. As the blood flow from his torn off arm stemmed, it once again gushed from his new wound.

I’m done… aren’t I…?

Feeling his hope dwindle, Brock stared deep into Zin’s eyes. Despite the fact that his Vitality had already restored his broken arm back to normal, murderous anger raged within them. So, when the man’s clawed hand reared back, he knew it was a killing blow.

I’m gonna die… if only I had my Augments… Brock watched as the muscles of Zin’s arm flexed, preparing to end his life. Wait…

He recalled his ravaged pathways. And then he grinned. Brock’s eyes fell shut and he looked inward, finding the familiar sight of both his orbiting Augments. Back in the real world, he felt Zin’s body jolt, signalling the descent of his attack.

It’d been a while since he’d visited his Augments and the core of their power, but the sight of his radiant fireball and rotating maelstrom gave him relief. They were still here and waiting to be used. And used they would be.

With all the mental strength he could muster, Brock drew upon both of them, despite his earlier failures. They dimmed and slowed as their energy was drawn from their core and into his pathways. Come on. Come on. COME ON.

His voice boomed in his mind, sounding strangely foreign yet perfectly usual, and his Augments obeyed. Twisting around each other and avoiding cross streams, they travelled down his pathways until they were met with the first tear.

Then a resounding crackle echoed out from him, and immense heat brushed his face. Brock tried to open his eyes, but the raw heat forced his body to keep them shut. He felt his entire chest sizzle and sting, and the scent of burned flesh wafted up into his nostril from the breach sight. Zin’s attack never came.

Then the grasp around his neck disappeared and he fell to the ground.

With his remaining arm, Brock shielded his eyes as superheated air and hyper-combusting flame roared through the area. He felt the water beneath him boil and the mud be rid of its moisture. His skin blistered and smoked but was spared from the devastation for the most part thanks to his natural resistance to his own Augments.

In his aura senses, he felt Zin stumble back and collapse to the ground, his aura portraying weakness and shock. Finally, after several seconds of searing pain and heat, the energy dissipated, and Brock dared to open his eyes again.

What met him was total destruction.

Steam wafted up from every direction, the result of the water being taken past its boiling point. Arid landscape was left in the wake of it, the trees and limited flora left dead and burning. That which wasn’t had already been reduced to ashes. The majority of Brock’s clothes had been incinerated, leaving him wearing charred rags and two empty husks of boots.

A dozen or so meters ahead of him, was Zin Keene, his own robed blackened but fairly intact, save for the left portion of his body. The piece of clothing was left in tatters, but slowly seemed to be repairing itself.

As for the body beneath, his red skin was charred black and covered with blisters, and a large portion of his left side was bleeding and covered with cracked flesh. Slowly, snarling, Zin got back to his feet. His eyes locked with Brock’s own, and he stalked forward.

Brock attempted to get up and defend himself, but all the muscles in his chest had been burned to shreds, leaving his arm weak and twitching. Zin’s voice echoed out ahead as Brock attempted to crawl backwards. Rapidly, the demon’s charred flesh was flaking off and revealing newly regenerated pink skin underneath.

“Didn’t expect Augment Fusion, especially from an Error,” Zin arrived before him, smiling. His voice was lively, but oh so dark. His large hand wrapped around Brock’s burned face. His charred hair crunched atop his scalp, “Let alone the fact that you somehow possess an Ascendancy; Techniques.”

Brock’s body whirled and the back of his skull shattered against a rock. He heard a crackle, probably from both his skull and the rock itself, and he felt his scalp grow wet with blood, “You certainly are an anomaly. An Error that’s special! I’ve finally come into my luck.”

His head was pulled up and then smashed against the rock once more. The rock began to crumble, and Brock felt his skull caving in. His eyesight began to give way to darkness. Zin’s flesh was now entirely pink and regenerated.

“It’s-“ Brock was slammed into the rock again, “to-“ and again, “bad-“ and again. And again and again and again. His sight closed in and his head felt numb, his thoughts slow. Blood and bits of bone dribbled down his neck.

“That I’m going to kill you.”

As Brock stuttered in a final breath and his sight darkened to a single point, he felt his skull impact the shattered remains of the rock one last time.

Darkness enveloped him, and he felt the sensations of the world disappear. Alone, he floated. The black churned and seethed and a single prompt appeared before Brock’s eyes.

[You have died.]