David began to sob. Duncan watched, heart-wrenched, looking not just at his broken friend, but at the lifeless body of the girl. Her face was a study in contrasts: from the nose up, she looked pure and white, save for her messy, oily hair; from the jaw down, she was a grisly mess—stained and plastered with blood, vomit, and mucus that they had no way of cleaning.
Duncan knelt, moving slowly toward his two friends. Still encased in his armor, his movements were punctuated by short electronic whirs and the heavy, rhythmic clank of metal boots.
"Bro, she's gonna be okay..."
"No, Dunc, don't say that..." David looked his friend straight in the eye. His blue irises shined through the tears, contrasting sharply with the redness of his eyes. "Can't you see? She's dead."
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Duncan snapped, his voice a mix of anger, disappointment, and a deep-seated uncertainty. "She's going to live, David. That's a promise. I'm not just talking out of my ass."
David looked back at him, silent. Duncan did the same. For a few seconds, there was only silence between them.
"Listen... we're getting out of here. All of us. Safe and sound..."
Duncan was cut short by a brutal, gut-wrenching roar from behind him. The sound of contorting bones, sizzling flesh, and inhuman screams was only the beginning.
The boy stood frozen, his gaze locked in terror on David, who—even more horrified—stared directly behind his friend. He didn't move his eyes, not even a fraction of an inch. It was as if he refused to blink, forcing himself to watch simply so he wouldn't have to look away.
"David... what are you looking at?" Duncan whispered to his friend, his voice as low as humanly possible. In response, he received only stammers—sounds that couldn't even form a coherent word.
Meanwhile, in the background, nothing could be heard but the slow liquefaction of flesh as it shredded, emitting wet, mushy "smacks." There was the sound of bones snapping slowly, emphasizing the rhythmic, prolonged "cracks," alongside a dragging sound that scraped against the floor in a faint screech, as if the bones were being sharpened into lethal, razor-sharp blades. Grotesque grunts, accompanied by the forced tearing of bodies being ripped apart, produced disgusting, almost elastic sounds that repeated constantly, as if done by design
"David...!"
"It's not just feeding on them..." The boy was utterly repulsed. He felt his breath failing, each inhalation coming with extreme effort and discomfort.
"...It's desecrating them."
Duncan felt himself being dragged from behind. A sudden, overpowering urge to turn around seized him, almost against his will. He began to tremble. To resist, he tried to fight the strange force compelling him to turn. As a result, he had already moved a few centimeters and was continuing to rotate his torso in an unnatural way—as if the force's secondary goal was to shatter his pelvis, snapping his spine and twisting his viscera, which were already retracted and shriveled by terror.
"I don't want to..."
Only a few seconds remained for Duncan. His eyes were wide, bulging, as if they were waiting for nothing else but to see. Yet, he didn't even know how to close them. Behind him, the faint, persistent sound of deep, foul breaths echoed hauntingly. An intense shiver ran down his back, feeling like a thousand tiny legs crawling from top to bottom, every step weighing down like a thin, sharpened blade. The heat was also immense, similar to a bonfire, with the only difference being that the stench of coal and ash was laced with the smell of burning plastic. Furthermore, the rancid tang of gastric juices was perceptible, along with the fetor of rotting organs and liquefied skin that, like acid, seemed to eat through the floor, bubbling and creating thick black fumes that spat sparks of fire, sizzling and popping in the air and on the ground.
"But I must..."
Duncan was now practically turned around, his eyes wide and profoundly enthralled by the marvelous vision.
The sweet melody of celestial, light chants continued to echo majestically and enchantingly in his ears, seemingly elevating the splendid creature even further. These chants emitted vibrations as soft and delicate as a caress, accompanied by an intense relief—like sinking into soft pillows that relaxed every muscle in his body, weakening them under the weight of such profound relaxation. Especially pleasant, almost alluring, was the light, cool breeze blowing slowly and faintly against him, carrying wonderful, sweet aromas. These melodies were both intricate and simple at the same time, washing over the boy until he felt almost proud.
Moreover, he could smell the fragrant scent of his favorite dessert: Sacher Torte. He smelled the rich dark chocolate and the fresh apricot jam, spread perfectly between layers of sponge cake that absorbed the moisture like a sponge. It was covered in dense flows of glossy chocolate, where tiny air bubbles formed and popped on their own as the glaze coated the entire cake.
"Duncan..."
"Uom..."
David was completely petrified. Although he wanted to close his Kariudo helmet to activate it, he was overwhelmed by that dark force that allowed him to do nothing but watch in extreme horror as his friend—likewise immobilized—was suspended in mid-air. Duncan's body was completely helpless and almost limp, his eyes rolled back to expose nothing but bloodshot, veiny whites. The base of his eyes was stained red where the flesh was pulled so taut it bled in rivers. Blood also cascaded from his mouth, which was drowned in red fluid pouring from the distorted, unnatural grin etched onto the boy's face—a chilling, jagged smile where the lips seemed to have been sliced to keep the expression fixed. His lips were pulled back, revealing teeth that looked as if they were about to fall out entirely.
But David didn't manage to see that. What he saw instead—beyond the broken, dismembered, foul-smelling, and scorched carcasses—was the monster at the center of it all. The creature loomed on large, backward-curving legs, supporting its skeletal, pulsating frame with a pair of thin arms equipped with three crooked fingers and long, sharp claws. It stared back at Duncan with a disfigured, malignant face covered in eight pairs of white eyes, their irises opaque and translucent, the color of the slain soldiers. This stood in stark contrast to its dark, smoking body, which was characterized by a persistent crackling of burning timber and the hiss of fire—a sound that intensified with every passing second. This matched the continuous pulsing of its open chest, revealing the three hearts of the boys. With every beat, they sprayed blood and expelled smoke, creating an intense red glow that contrasted with the shadows of the thick ribs beneath the veiny, putrid skin. At its sides, other smaller legs seemed to twitch with a certain frenzy, as if they were excited and possessed a mind of their own.
David managed one last reciprocal glance at the Ijo's face. It seemed to be composed of two large, open maws, disturbingly similar to smiles, one nested inside the other. The teeth of the outer jaw were visible and protruding, nearly reaching the forehead of the inner head, from which two pairs of grotesque, sharp black horns jutted out. These horns were ridged and cracked at the base, piercing through the outer head. From both mouths, with every horrifying grunt and rattle, more of that hellish black smoke poured out.
At this point, David could only suspect most of this. Although he felt nothing inside the suit, he could still feel his nose stinging aggressively from the thick smoke.
This didn't stop him from contorting even more aggressively than the Ijo itself. He let out brutal, macabre, and powerful roars, thrashing as if he could no longer contain himself, ready to unleash his repressed fury.
Immediately, "David" attacked.
IJO DETECTED: K21-33.
ESTIMATED LEVEL: BETA.
CODENAME: MISHAP.
LESS THAN 58 SECONDS...