Numbly, Brock gazed down the charred hole he had torn through the worm’s flesh. Swathes upon swathes of the landscape passed by in an incomprehensible blur of red, and the wind hissed. Rapidly, their altitude was increasing, and clouds slowly began to obscure the already limited sight they had been granted.

Beside him, Harry began to panic. Brock could hear his rapid breathing from here. He let his flame wisp out in case the monster sensed his Augment,

Experimentally, he spat through the hole, observing with his enhanced vision as the blob of spittle continued down and was promptly scattered to the racing winds. He might be sitting in the realm of superhumanity now, but he held no illusions about surviving the fall. If he slipped now, he would begin a multi-minute long plummet until he was smeared across the sand like raspberry jam on toast.

Idly, he stepped back a little.

The aura of the monstrosity carrying them through the sky was somewhat nullified by the thick hide of the Brood-Mother and its weakening remnant aura, although the bird was still undeniably powerful. Luckily, both of them felt far more capable now with their growth. Whether it would be enough was yet to be seen.

That was not at all an excuse to engage in combat, however, and Brock knew he and Harry were far from properly equipped to fight the Sky Bandit on even footing, assuming that truly was the identity of the aerial creature above them. To their advantage though, since monsters appeared to be unable to sense aura, they would at least have the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, Brock doubted it would help.

James had made sure to load them up with all sorts of gadgets he had been working on, including quite a few he had been eager to use to subjugate the Sky Bandit, with Jordan’s assistance of course. The two men didn’t know if the contraptions would be of any help during the fight they had wished to postpone until later, but any and all assistance was welcome at this point.

“…So… what do we do now?” Harry asked, opting to sit on the fleshy flooring instead of stand. It eased the pressure of the aura somewhat this way, though it did elicit a sickening squelch.

“Cry?” Brock replied, gazing at the passing landscape absentmindedly.

“…Sounds good.”

Harry heaved out a wavering sigh and appeared to read his status. Brock followed suit and did the same, though, despite his high numbers, he felt no confidence for the ensuing fight. He was now certain that the airborne terror was easily hitting level 70, while he was yet to reach even a quarter of that. From stats alone - based on the 20 Harry got every level – Brock was closing in on a blue Shard’s level 50. He doubted it would be even close to enough, however.

His Augment, on the other hand, well that might just be enough to turn the tables.

Had he not had his trusty Augment all this time, Brock knew he would have definitely perished a long while ago. It was not only his most powerful weapon but also his most reliable one. Undoubtedly, it boosted his combat potential by several-fold, but he would be a fool to not expect the Sky Bandit to also have one of its own.

Hopefully, it didn’t also have something akin to a Technique. His current one was also a part of his strength, and while Brock wasn’t confident in being able to use it to damage the beast whatsoever, he at least felt like it could be used to create a split-second opening for him to capitalise upon.

More than anything though, he worried about Harry. The teenager had a minuscule amount of combat experience compared to Brock himself, and his powers were also suited more toward playing the long game than instant damage, waiting for his poisons to do their magic. The only solace he found was in the fact that the kid’s Ascendancy focused his stats heavily into Vitality and Constitution. With that, Brock hoped he’d at least be able to survive a blow and get away.

He turned to Harry to try to communicate some sort of plan of attack before shit hit the fan, but a cacophony of ravenous chirps made him pause. Looking back down the smouldering hole, Brock only now noticed that they had slowed down in their flight speed significantly, as well as dropped explosively in altitude. Slowly, the haphazard form of a nest came into view.

Within, a dozen or so smaller birds chirped, eagerly jumping around at the sight of what Brock now knew was their mother. It seemed that she had returned and brought a feast along with her. Even from tens of meters away, Brock would estimate the baby chicks to be around the size of small horses, though their size wasn’t what made him gulp, it was the jagged fangs he saw present inside their beaks.

Clearly, they were meant for tearing.

Aside from that, he also noticed their down was coloured in a familiar scheme of white and black, and Brock wondered where the morality of brutally murdering baby chicks stood. That was, at least, until names flickered above their heads, portraying each creature as having a level above that of 35.

It was enough to give Brock a slight amount of worry, especially when aside from the mother bird, he and Harry would have to deal with thirteen other decently levelled creatures.

Brock could feel the palpable hunger radiating off of them.

Slowly, as they began to be lowered into the nest, he studied the nest itself. From what he could see, it was around the rough scale of a football field or two, made of woven steel-tipped feathers, uprooted trees, and shattered pieces of rock. It was beyond more than enough space for the baby chicks, but the plethora of gargantuan skeletons littered about told him it was more for containment than anything else.

The chicks were avidly devouring into the corpse before the entirety of the Brood-Mother had even tapped down onto the surface of the nest. Those chirps were quickly replaced with the sound of tearing as the monsters ripped chunks of its tough hide away and gulped it down with obvious relish. Their little eyes rolled back, and Brock grimaced.

They were hunger incarnate, digging into the beast with abandon. The hundreds of meter long body finally thumped to the ground proper, and Brock noticed that more babies were beginning to awaken and climb out of the gaps in the nest to feast. Fortunately, as the aura of the momma Sky Bandit began to retreat, he felt some tension ease from his shoulders.

Its babies were hungry, and it knew they would need more soon enough. Hopefully, they’d be long gone when it came back.

Their hole was allowing the duo of castaways a direct line of sight to the devourings of the chicks. The babies were further along, if only by a handful of meters, and it was only a matter of time before they found the hole and wandered inside. Or made their own. Variety was the spice of life, and what better way to spice it up than to eat two live people.

“Ok. What do we do now?” Harry’s voice had a forced easiness to it, and Brock could effortlessly pick out the wavering fear he was trying to hide.

He would have suggested that they blow their way through the other side of the worm and make a run for it, but aside from the obvious fact that they probably wouldn’t get far before big momma caught them in the open, she’d also probably detect the use of an Augment. The babies certainly would too, and they’d come looking immediately.

“You know any KFC workers?” he asked back.

“…no?”

“Then I’m all out of ideas.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, eyes bulging with the realisation that they were probably going to die.

“We can take on the chicks easily, right?” the teenager ventured hopefully, “Brock?”

He thought about it for a moment. Under normal circumstances, he was almost too confident in their ability to dispatch a level 35 beast, with both of them being wholly capable of soloing one each. The problem lay in the numbers. Fighting a single beast was one thing. Fighting a dozen simultaneously was an entirely different story.

Even worse was the fact that more were appearing from inside the nest as every second passed by.

Although, as there were two of them, he felt they could probably take on a handful of the babies and come out victorious. Brock wouldn’t be anywhere near as confident without the use of his Augment, however. Using it would be a one-way ticket to ‘oh we’re so fucked now’ town.

The office worker ran a hand through his hair, evidently stressed by the situation, “Maybe. Probably not.”

“Well. Crap,” Harry replied quietly.

“Crap indeed,” Brock said back.

Far over to their left, a small beak punctured through the flesh and created a hole leading to the outside. Thin rays of light peeked in, illuminating the fleshy interior. The monsters were getting in, and they were running out of time. Brock’s pupils dilated as a monstrous creature took a gander in curiously and stared right at them.

It gave a crooked squawk.

Cursing as he felt the auras of the birds outside flare in intensity and bypass the muffling effect of the worm carcass, Brock grabbed Harry by the arm and rushed out of their own hole. Quickly, he was forced to spin around and smash his foot into the side of a monster’s head as it lunged for them, smacking it savagely into the worm’s corpse and rattling its brains.

Harry prayed to literally every god as they bolted across the rugged terrain of the nest, weaving over the plethora of mismatched materials, the sticks and branches brushing against their enhanced bodies and neglecting to give them so much as a scratch. If it was anything Brock was thankful for right now, it was this.

Contrary to the clumsy looking newborns that they appeared to be, the birds were rapidly catching up through a mix of quick-waddling and short bursts of flight. Brock thought it was fitting that creatures relying upon their own Agility to fly were so well invested in it. Twisting around briefly, Brock let go of Harry and loosed his chain-knife in the direction of the raving sky chickens.

Harry stabilised himself and maintained a steady gait at Brock’s side, albeit falling behind a bit. The older man grimaced as the blade punctured through the down and drew a squirt of orange, but otherwise left the beast no worse for wear. He recalled his weapon and met the trio of eyes the beast possessed, the third eye sitting right above the beak.

There was no rage within, only mindless gluttony.

Cursing, Brock snatched Harry’s arm once more. He picked up the pace, the boy getting dragged along behind him, though the birds were still rapidly catching up to them. They screeched out their unceasing hunger in unison, the noise stinging Brock’s ears and making Harry wince.

The colossal body of the Brood-Mother was lying limply to their left, and they followed along it if only to make them feel safer from one side. The sight of the hundreds of lifeless eyes across the worm left Brock feeling slightly disturbed, and he could tell Harry didn’t exactly feel comfortable around it either.

They were beginning to reach the final stretch of the nest when the first bird finally reached them. Though it wasn’t one from the initial grouping. It was part of the several dozen that had awoken and given chase. There’s… a lot following us now…

Idly, Brock stretched out his aura senses and gulped. Hundreds of the creatures lay dormant underneath them.

Furiously tearing into the flesh of the Brood-Mother, a bird further ahead finally noticed him and immediately shifted its attention, diving for Brock without fear of its own life. A moment later, it met a dagger as the weapon shattered through the monster’s skull and carved into its brain. It slumped to the ground, twitching, and the duo desperately continued onward.

Awoken by the terrible noise their brethren were creating, more and more baby Sky Bandits rose from the ground and leapt at them. Their talons slashed across the intruders’ skin and Brock in turn tore through them left and right, slitting throats, caving in skulls, and smearing brains ceaselessly as he protected both him and Harry from the rabid onslaught.

Harry himself was forced to make his own moves at times too, resorting to leave his unwieldy axe on his back, something Brock still had no idea how people did, and instead opt to use a short sword he had adopted earlier, jabbing it through the eyes of the monsters and leaving his arms soaked in orange-tinged blood much the same colour of his own.

Finally, panting and frenzied, the duo reached the large slope barring their way out of the place, and Brock was hastily forced to smash his dagger through the skull of a bird. Flicking the brain matter off the blade, he promptly assisted Harry in climbing up the woven materials and reaching for the top, letting the boy go first.

He managed to get onto the top just as the tide beasts arrived and Brock wasted no time as he leapt directly onto the wall and rapidly began to scale it, beating back the ravenous birds with his bare feet. One of the Sky Bandits - one of the few to have reached level 40 in the bunch - jumped at him and flew higher than its brothers and sisters, maws open wide.

Brock swiftly moved to loose his dagger and stab its head through, but it reached him first, its crooked teeth clamping down brutally upon his forearm, piercing through the flesh and tickling the bone. Brock bit back a scream of agony and tried to shake a creature off, but it held on tightly, wriggling about and using its unassuming weight to sink its fangs deeper and deeper.

“Brock!” Harry cried out from above.

Fuck fuck FUCK!

Snarling in pain, Brock utilised Ethereal Shackles with his free hand on the shadows hiding in the woven slope and a series of blackened chains phased outward, sending an ominous clinking noise resounding through the air. Abruptly, they wrapped around him and locked him in place, preventing him from falling under the creature’s weight.

The corrosive effect tickled at his flesh but otherwise left him unharmed. He knew it wouldn’t have worked on the beast. It held his arm, and trying to kill it with his Technique might break his arm in the process.

The raw agony was almost blinding as the birds’ jaws began to clasp shut and crunch through his bones, ruining his flesh and muscles irreparably. He couldn’t even summon out his dagger within the monster’s mouth, the item unresponsive along with the fingers of his arm. A sickening wet tearing noise slowly echoed from within the monster’s mouth.

Harry screamed out to Brock again, although, through both the pain and pounding of his heart, he couldn’t make out what the boy had said. Currently, he was at a height that the main herd of chicks were unable to reach, leaving the horrific noise the only thing he could focus on as they gave up and retreated, returning to the worm corpse, their hunger getting the better of them.

Numbly, he looked down at his arm, watching on as the flesh sluggishly detached from the messy cleave beyond the bird’s fangs in thick strings.

Rage bubbled up within him, and before Brock couldn’t even think about what he was doing, the clawed hand controlling Ethereal Shackles was enveloped in a blazing crimson glow, permeating the very limb itself in flame and searing the air around it with a newfound heat.

Fire was like a beast, fickle and instinctual, acting upon its own emotions. It was the energy of fury and anger, and it was the need to consume and destroy. To hone flame was to imbue hunger, and heat was merely a product of one’s desire. All creatures in life were desperate for survival, and fire was no different.

Fire and beast were one and the same.

Screaming, Brock lashed out and raked his fiery hand through the forehead of the bird, the raw heat contained within the attack melting through its head like warm butter in a microwave. Liquified bone and brain splattered out the other side, the heat leaving it bubbling. The chains of his Technique seemed to reach the end of their duration and they began to shatter.

Panicking, Harry reached down and snatched his older companions’ arm as it cooled from red to normal, saving him from the ensuing fall and slowly pulling him up. His other arm though, it fell down with the weight of the most recent corpse, finally ripping off from the splintered bone with one sickening final sound.

Together, they plummeted downward.