The room had fallen silent. The only sounds were the heavy, ragged breaths of the three warriors and the slow, sickening drip of blood pooling beneath the Volatile Queen's body. But something felt wrong.
Xin staggered back, his spear trembling slightly in his grip. His lungs burned, and with every breath, he could feel the air getting heavier, thicker—tainted with methane and rot. His vision blurred for a moment, and he blinked rapidly to steady himself.
Raven wiped a streak of blood from her face, her gauntlets now slick with gore. She didn't speak. None of them did. They didn't need to.
Then—
A wet, gurgling sound filled the chamber.
Belial's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. His body was screaming for rest, but his instincts forced him to watch. He could already see it—the shift, the unnatural twitching. The corpse wasn't settling.
Something still lived inside it.
The Queen's stomach convulsed violently.
A deep, hollow cracking sound echoed through the cavern as her grotesque form lurched upright. Limbs spasmed unnaturally, like a puppet whose strings had been yanked. Her skin began to stretch, dark veins bulging across her bloated flesh. A grotesque gash split down the center of her abdomen, and something inside pushed outward, desperate to escape.
Raven took a step back, his breath sharp. Xin nearly gagged as a fresh wave of putrid gas flooded the chamber, thick enough to feel like it was crawling down his throat.
They were running out of air.
The Queen's body split open in a wet, fleshy tear, and something inhuman emerged from within her.
A twisted, elongated figure crawled forth from the ruined husk of its former body, its skin now ashen and stretched tight over its frame. Its arms had grown, long and sinewy, ending in jagged claws that scraped against the stone. The bulbous mass of its old body had sloughed away, leaving something leaner, faster, hungrier.
It turned toward them, its face still a horrible mimicry of its former self—but now split from jaw to navel, revealing rows upon rows of needle-like teeth.
The Volatile Queen had shed her skin.
And she was stronger.
Belial didn't need to speak. He couldn't. Every breath filled his lungs with more and more of the toxic air, each inhale making him feel slower, heavier.
His vision blurred for a moment—then sharpened.
No more commands. No more words. They had to move. Now.
The Queen lunged.
Her elongated body slithered toward them with unnatural speed,
her grotesque, elongated form twisting as she lunged forward. Her blackened claws raked the air, slicing through the space where Belial had stood only moments before. He barely managed to dodge, his body sluggish from the methane that choked the cavern.
Xin thrust his spear forward on instinct, aiming for the creature's exposed stomach, but the Queen's body bent unnaturally. Her flesh rippled, her abdomen folding inward to avoid the strike before snapping back like a whip. The spear missed entirely, and Xin felt the momentum pull him off balance.
Just then, Belial saw it.
"Xin! Roll left!"
Xin didn't question it. He threw himself to the side, just as a grotesque, tendril-like appendage burst from the Queen's back, impaling the spot where he had been. A split-second late, and it would've gone through his skull.
Raven, unshaken, surged forward, her armored gauntlets cracking against the Queen's ribs with enough force to send a shockwave through the chamber. The Queen's flesh warped and split, but no blood poured from the wound—only a thick, bubbling yellow bile that hissed as it touched the cavern floor.
The stench made Xin gag, but Raven didn't hesitate. She reared back for another strike, but the Queen twisted, her grotesquely elongated spine snapping unnaturally as she coiled around the warrior like a serpent.
"Raven, back off!" Belial barked.
Too late.
The Queen lashed out, her clawed hand slamming into Raven's chest. Though her armor absorbed some of the impact, the force sent her flying, her body crashing against the cavern wall with a sickening crunch. She hit the ground hard, her breathing ragged.
Xin's heart pounded. His mind screamed at him to run, to find some fresh air before his body shut down—but he couldn't.
Not yet.
Belial moved.
His curved longsword sang through the air, carving a precise arc through the Queen's exposed neck. The blade bit deep, severing flesh and muscle. A normal beast would have fallen—but the Queen was not normal.
She did not die.
Instead, she lurched forward, the gaping wound in her neck stretching grotesquely as if her body were refusing to accept death.
Her hands shot out, clawed fingers aimed for Belial's throat.
He barely managed to twist out of the way, but she was too fast—
A sharp, metallic clang rang out.
Raven, bloodied but unbroken, had intercepted the strike, her armored gauntlet locking around the Queen's wrist. Her arms shook from the force, but she held firm.
Xin didn't waste the opening.
He adjusted his grip on the spear, ignoring the way his head swam from lack of oxygen.
One strike.
He lunged, driving the spear deep into the Queen's stomach.
The impact sent shudders through the Queen's grotesque form. Her body convulsed violently, her elongated limbs flailing as she let out a piercing, unnatural scream.
Belial wasted no time.
He whirled around, his longsword arcing downward in a single, decisive stroke—
—And the Queen's head separated from her body.
For a moment, nothing moved.
The Queen's body shuddered once, twice—before collapsing into itself, her flesh bubbling and dissolving into the cavern floor. The only thing left behind was the toxic stench of methane and rot.
They had won.
Or so they thought.
Belial swayed on his feet, his lungs burning. His arms ached, his vision swam, but he remained standing. His instincts screamed at him to move, but exhaustion weighed down his limbs.
They needed air.
Xin fell to one knee, gripping his spear for balance. His head was pounding, his breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. He tried to focus, tried to listen—
And then he heard it.
A wet, squirming noise.
His blood ran cold.
Slowly, he turned his gaze to the Queen's remains.
Something moved.
The cavern floor pulsed, as if something beneath the flesh and bile was alive. Then, with a sickening squelch, dozens of small, writhing figures began to emerge from the Queen's rotting corpse.
Her children.
Xin staggered back, his stomach churning as he realized what they were looking at—an amalgamation of tiny, malformed creatures, their skin translucent and wet, their tiny, clawed hands twitching as they crawled toward their mother's corpse.
"No…" Raven muttered, pushing herself up.
Belial said nothing. His grip tightened on his sword.
The Queen's children swarmed forward, their tiny, sharp teeth gnashing hungrily.
The fight wasn't over.
Xin let out a shaky breath and raised his spear