The descent into the pit was eerily silent. The Reapers, a hardened group of mutant hunters, moved with careful precision, their weapons drawn, eyes scanning every shadow. Ethan had expected chaos, but what greeted them was an unnatural stillness. The pit, a gaping wound in the earth, pulsed with an otherworldly energy, its depths obscured by a crimson glow.
"Stay sharp," the Reaper leader, a grizzled man named Cole Graves, muttered. "Something ain't right."
The deeper they went, the more suffocating the air became. It wasn't just the humidity or the decay—it was something else, something watching. The walls of the pit pulsed with faint bioluminescence, casting eerie red hues across their faces.
Then they saw it.
At the center of the cavernous abyss stood a golden mutant, seated upon a grotesque throne of writhing, sinewy tendrils. Its skin shimmered like molten metal, reflecting the red glow of the core behind it. The creature's eyes were hollow yet alive, burning with an intelligence far beyond any mutant they had encountered before.
The squad froze.
"What... the hell is that?" one of the Reapers whispered, gripping his rifle tighter.
Ethan swallowed hard. His instincts screamed at him to run, but his body refused to move. This thing—this being—was different. It wasn't just another mutant. It was something else entirely.
"Weapons free," Cole ordered, his voice firm but uncertain. "Drop it."
Gunfire erupted, flashes of light illuminating the dark cavern. Bullets ripped through the air, striking the golden mutant's form—but it didn't flinch. The rounds ricocheted off its body, some flattening upon impact, others veering off harmlessly. Smoke and dust filled the pit, but when it cleared, the mutant still sat unmoving, its expression one of mild irritation.
Then it rose.
A wave of force erupted from its form, sending the Reapers flying backward. The cavern walls cracked under the sheer power of its movement. Ethan slammed against the rocky ground, coughing as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs. Around him, the Reapers struggled to their feet, but several remained motionless—dead or unconscious.
The golden mutant descended from its throne, each step echoing like thunder.
Cole, gritting his teeth, drew his combat knife. "If bullets don't work, we go in close!"
He lunged.
The mutant moved faster.
With a flick of its wrist, it sent Cole crashing into the cavern wall. The remaining Reapers charged, slashing and stabbing, their melee weapons striking true—but it was like trying to cut through steel. Their attacks barely left scratches.
Ethan gritted his teeth and pulled out his last resort—an incendiary grenade. He primed it and hurled it directly at the creature's chest.
Boom.
Flames engulfed the golden mutant, swallowing it in a pillar of fire. The cavern shook from the explosion, embers dancing through the air. For a brief moment, hope flickered in Ethan's heart.
Then the flames parted, and the mutant stepped forward, completely unscathed.
It locked eyes with Ethan.
Then, to everyone's horror—it scoffed.
A deep, guttural sound, almost... amused.
Ethan felt his blood turn to ice. It wasn't just powerful. It was toying with them.
The golden mutant lifted a single hand—and let them go.
The cavern trembled, and suddenly, a force pushed them back. Ethan and Cole found themselves flung toward the pit's entrance, landing hard on the rocky surface outside. The surviving Reapers—what remained of them—were hurled out as well, coughing and struggling to comprehend what had just happened.
Then, just as eerily as it had begun, the pit sealed shut.
Silence.
Ethan sat up, gasping, his hands shaking. Cole lay beside him, alive but bloodied, his breathing ragged.
"What... what was that?" Ethan muttered, his voice hoarse.
Cole wiped the blood from his mouth and exhaled. "That," he said, staring at the closed pit, "was something we were never meant to see."
The Reapers had been nearly wiped out. The mission had been a disaster.
But worse than the failure was the realization that the golden mutant had spared them.
Not out of mercy.
But because they weren't even worth killing.