Days bled into one another.
Jay had found two more Colossi in the same state as the first. The cuts weren't deep, but they were scattered everywhere. What is his real goal? Jay wondered, resting his chin in his hand.
He stood before the fallen titan, its massive body sprawled under the searing sun. The patterns were identical—strikes delivered in nearly the exact same spots. The consistency gnawed at him.
There was another detail making his head throb: the only blood present belonged to the Colossi. Either his target was incredibly skilled and powerful, or they possessed a terrifying healing factor. Since the latter didn't seem to fit the evidence, he was left with the most unsettling conclusion: the bastard was just that good.
Jay pressed a hand to his forehead, scowling. Damn it, thinking this much is giving me a headache.
Turning his back on the corpse, he moved across the Silent Desert.
After a while, a sound broke the stillness. Something was shifting among the shrubs. It was nearly imperceptible, but in that absolute silence, it sounded like a klaxon. Jay drew his white, vein-streaked sword, dropping into a combat stance.
The rustling intensified. Then, the ground began to shudder. Jay's brow furrowed. He heard a heavy, thundering footfall. No—two. Then three, then four. The number was growing.
His expression hardened. This... has never happened before.
Slowly, his blade lowered as the color drained from his face. It wasn't possible. The rhythm of the steps didn't match a giant's, nor did it sound like the skirmishes between lycans and vampires.
As he searched his mind for an answer, a massive paw—orange as a wildfire—stepped into view. The sound of splintering timber snapped him back to reality. Jay's eyes widened.
A fox. A massive, towering fox. It had one, two, three... he lost count of the tails as they whipped through the air. It bared its fangs, ready to tear him asunder. The beast stood nearly ten feet tall.
"Shit! Why is everything in this place so goddamn big?" Jay spat, bracing himself.
He lunged.
The fox remained motionless. Why isn't it moving? Jay wondered, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.
The creature answered as if it had read his thoughts. One of its tails lashed out with blinding speed. Jay barely managed to bring up his guard before the impact sent him hurtling into a tree.
His mouth fell open in a silent gasp, the air knocked clean out of his lungs. He forced himself up, legs trembling. As his chest began to burn, oxygen finally rushed back into his nostrils. Relief washed over him, followed by a surge of adrenaline.
He gritted his teeth, his hand brushing against his pistol. I don't want to use that yet.
His pupils dilated as another tail cut through the air. He lunged to the side, but the strike was too fast. It grazed his leg, carving a shallow red line through his skin. Behind him, the tree he had been leaning against was sheared in two.
Ignoring the sting in his leg, Jay continued to weave through the barrage of tails. The fox hadn't moved an inch from its original spot; it simply stared at him like he was an inconsequential insect.
"Damn you!"
He exhaled, and faint blue sparks began to dance around him.
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his ribs. Against his will, Jay's body went rigid. He was hoisted into the air, blood coughing from his mouth and slicking the fox's tail.
But then, a thin line of frost began to creep along the fur. The ice spread rapidly, encasing the tail. The fox swung its remaining tails at him in a frenzy, but it was too late. The frost had already claimed its limb.
Regaining his senses, Jay drew both weapons: his veined sword and his pistol. With a swift, surgical strike, he severed the frozen tail.
As he plummeted toward the ground, he aimed his pistol and fired three times. A jolt of energy shot through him, making his hair stand on end. His entire arm felt like it was being held in a furnace.
He hit the ground and sprang back up immediately. A smirk played on his lips. The fox had finally moved—it had recoiled. He wasn't hallucinating; he had drawn blood.
"Didn't expect that, did you? Huh?!"
Another tail lunged. Jay countered with another shot, seemingly gliding across the sand. As he ran, his pistol dissolved into jagged shards of ice that fused with his blade, mending the cracks in the frozen steel.
He gripped the hilt, planted his lead foot, and swung with everything he had.
The fox shrieked in agony. The white blade sliced through another tail, spraying blood across the clearing. Despite the wound, the beast pressed the attack.
Jay pushed off the ground, his quads screaming in protest. He ignored the burn, his focus narrowing to a singular point. His blade hummed as it carved through more fur and bone.
The fox let out a deafening howl. Suddenly, a sharp, internal pain brought Jay to his knees. Seizing the opening, the fox swung its tail at the defenseless human.
Jay bared his teeth. "Shit!"
He threw his arms up to block, but the tail—moving with the force of a falling star—suddenly froze mid-air.
Beads of sweat rolled down Jay's forehead, but he managed a relieved grin. In his pupils, the orange beast was reflected, suspended under the sun. Threads of blood trickled down a massive, jagged spire of ice.
A searing heat flared in his arm. The ice was no longer just on his blade—it was crawling up his limb, reaching for his throat.
In the absolute silence, the only sound was the cracking of growing ice and the shattering of the crystal spire.
The pain intensified. Jay's vision began to oscillate. He spat a mouthful of blood as his strength finally gave out. He collapsed, his blood pooling in the sand.
"Jay!"
A woman's voice, sharp with desperation, shattered the silence.
Jay could only twitch on the ground, feeling a profound, soul-piercing cold settle into his chest. Then, the world went black.