Zac let out a high-pitched, breathless squeak of pure panic. He whipped his head back around toward the cliff edge.
"Help! You guys, he's right here!" Zac shrieked, waving his arms frantically.
But the demons had already begun their charge. Andras's warg, Nock's pale horse, Halphas's Humvee, and Skarg all launched themselves over the precipice, diving down into the battle below.
Marchosias was the last to go. His massive Bicorn leaped into the air, clearing the edge of the cliff. The Captain turned his head back mid-air, a fierce grin on his scarred muzzle. "Hurry up, Avatar! Glory awai-"
Marchosias's amber eyes suddenly narrowed. His lips pulled back over his fangs as his gaze locked onto the towering, six-winged construct standing directly behind the human.
With a roar of absolute desperation, Marchosias yanked back on his reins with terrifying, superhuman force. The demonic Bicorn shrieked, its neck twisting violently as the wolf forced it to turn in mid-air.
Gravity took hold. The Bicorn's front hooves slammed onto the very edge of the cliff, but its back legs missed the stone completely, dangling over the abyss. The massive beast scrambled frantically, its iron-shod hooves throwing sparks as it fought desperately to pull itself, and the panicked Wolf Captain, back onto solid ground.
Zac furiously tapped Leo's shell with the riding crop, bouncing in his seat. "Mush! Mush! Go! Drive! Sprint!"
Leo hissed softly and lifted one clawed foot, preparing to take a very deliberate, very slow step forward.
Zac couldn't take his eyes off the fake angel slowly approaching him. It was so shiny, glowing with a warm, pristine white light that made Zac's eyes ache just looking directly at it. It moved with a terrifying, serene inevitability.
Suddenly, a blur of black armor and dark fur eclipsed Zac's vision. Marchosias, having managed to haul his mount back onto the ridge, was galloping past him, barreling straight toward the faux-angel.
Get him, Marchy-poo, Zac thought, a manic grin spreading across his face. Murder that thing to death. You're a total badass. This is going to be done in no time, and then we can go back and I can give him a shoulder rub. Then a leg rub. Then a rub and tug.
Zac's post-game thoughts fizzled out instantly.
The simulacrum didn't dodge. It didn't brace itself. It simply stepped forward and swung its massive wooden gavel in a terrifyingly fast, fluid underhand arc.
CRACK.
The warhammer caught March's Bicorn right in the side of the head. The demonic steed's face practically exploded in a shower of black blood and bone shards. The headless horse's momentum carried its body forward a few more steps before its front legs buckled. It crashed onto its side, sending up a massive plume of dirt and dust.
Marchosias howled in surprise and rage. The impact threw him from the saddle, but his leg caught in the stirrup. He was dragged down with the beast, hitting the ground hard before the massive, dead weight of the headless horse rolled directly onto his lower half, pinning him to the earth.
"No," Zac whispered. He watched in horror as REPENTANCE slowly turned, its golden, faceless visor locking onto the trapped and raging wolf. It began to walk toward him.
"No, no, no." Zac frantically clawed at the buckle of his seatbelt. He pressed the iron release, and the straps fell away.
"No, no, no!" Zac tumbled out of the saddle, hitting the rocky ground hard with his shoulder, but he didn't feel the pain.
"No, no, no!" He scrambled to his feet, his leopard-print slippers sliding in the dirt, and tried to run. The lack of adrenaline was maddening; his body felt heavy and sluggish even as he watched the not-angel plant a pristine, white foot directly onto the side of the dead Bicorn. Fuming, acrid smoke instantly plumed into the air as the construct's holy toes burned a hissing footprint into the demonic flesh.
"No, no, no!" Zac watched REPENTANCE slowly raise its massive warhammer with both hands, lifting it high above its head, aiming directly for the struggling, gasping wolf pinned beneath the horse.
"HEY! REPENTANCE!" Zac screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. "YOU CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT EAGLE DICK!"
Zac's tongue went instantly ice cold, the metallic taste of ozone flooding his mouth. But the simulacrum didn't flinch. It didn't pause. It didn't even acknowledge the command. It just kept winding up for the kill.
"You're aiming at a paladin, not a demon!" Zac shrieked, sprinting toward the horse. "Your shoelace is untied! Your head is going to self-destruct!"
The desperate lies hit the air and evaporated. They had absolutely no effect on the soulless machine.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Zac didn't think. He dove.
He launched himself over the flank of the dead Bicorn, scrambling over the slick black blood, and landed squarely on top of Marchosias's chest just as the wolf was desperately trying to heave the horse off his crushed legs with his only free arm.
"Zac! What the fuck are you doing?!" Marchosias barked, his eyes wide with shock and terror. "Run, you idiot!"
Zac didn't have time to respond. He looked up just as the massive wooden hammer reached the apex of its swing and began hurtling downward, aimed right at his leopard-print back.
Zac's life flashed quickly before his eyes. It wasn't a montage of Earth. It was Skarg standing proudly naked. Nock being a sexy, dramatic dummy. Andras being an asshole who could definitely be fixed. Halphas being a buff book nerd… Bune hugging him as they bonded over the dragon's addiction.
And March.
Zac shut his eyes tight. He saw March holding him when the wolf was just waking up at the dinner table, looking so vulnerable, like he just needed to be hugged and told he was a good boy. He thought of how the wolf put everyone else first, how the Captain was so responsible and refused to let his own desires control him.
Zac braced for the impact, happy that his last act was finally doing something for someone else, even if it was only a failed attempt at protecting them.
Zac breathed for a few seconds. Then a few more. He peeked open an eye.
The flat of the massive wooden warhammer was hovering only inches from his face, frozen in mid-air.
Zac watched as the simulacrum slowly pulled the weapon back. Fuck yes, Zac thought with a wicked, triumphant grin. He totally is thinking about eagle dick right now, isn't he?
He tried to ignore Marchosias beneath him, the wolf currently writhing and howling that Zac needed to run away, his words muffled by Zac's fleece-covered chest pressing into his face.
Zac watched the simulacrum pulse and glow, its smooth, featureless porcelain body shifting slightly as it lowered the hammer completely. Its eyeless, golden visor leaned down toward him. Zac shuddered. The holy puppet thing was very creepy, not in an evil, demonic way, but in its own unsettlingly pious way. It gave him the same disconnected, uncanny-valley feeling he got when seeing aggressively smiling people at airports trying to pass out pamphlets, insisting that just because the airlines hated humanity didn't mean their very specific religious sect did too.
Suddenly, Zac's ears rang, a sharp pressure building inside his skull as if he needed to pop them. A voice, devoid of inflection or gender, echoed directly into his mind.
< Virgin Detected. Purity Level Maximum. Enacting Security Protocol Omega: Save From Unholy Existences. >
The simulacrum reached out a pristine, white hand toward Zac.