Before he could process anything any other thoughts, his body moved, he sprinted towards her and the aberration as fast as he could, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Mira, move!"
The aberration snarled, its twisted form crouching as it turned its attention to him. Elias looked at Mira, she was still cowering in fear—he had to distract it. "Come on, do something," he thought as he scanned quickly around him, he gulped and crouched, reaching out to grab a small broken wooden pole that lay on the floor between him and the monster.
He stood tall to face the beast, he puffed his chest and roared—meekly—he wasn't so sure how his determination to save Mira would hold, he knew he wasn't a hero; yet, but he couldn't let this girl die.
The aberration lunged and he jumped forward, both shaking hands gripping the pole and attempting to use it as a spear—it was one of the few weapons Jacob had instructed him on. He twisted to the side as they closed in on each other, He thrust the makeshift spear at the incoming beast's arm. It sank into its flesh, but the force of the aberrations swing threw him into the air—less than a moment later he found himself crashing into the dirt and scrap-laden ground. The System-infused strength of the aberration had rag-dolled him temporarily.
He looked up and he grimaced in pain, "It worked" he thought, as he saw the creature stumbling back, trying to pull the wooden pole from its arm. Elias's gaze moved from the Aberration to Mira who remained motionless.
"Go, please!" He yelled, his voice trembling from the pain that shot through his body as he pointed towards an open path; she bolted.
The aberration continued to flail for a few more moments as he pushed himself from the floor with a groan, a sharp pain jolting his arm as he noticed a warm red stickiness seeping through a torn sleeve on his right arm.
Realisation hit him like a hammer to the chest. The creature looked more annoyed than hurt; the wooden pole used as a spear jutting from its arm seemed like a minor inconvenience more than a mortal wound. The monster snarled and clawed at the obstruction as Elias stood shocked—the horror of the devastation of the square and the returning flashbacks of repressed memories took hold. Bodies torn apart with pools of blood glistening in torch-light, cries of the dying blending with guttural growls and…the eyes. These beasts were fueled only by a desire to destroy.
He felt an enormous weight pressing down on him, getting heavier as the night pressed on. The creatures, the helplessness and the death were all happening again. Training, determination and courage were nothing against the primal force of these creatures.
For a fleeting moment, he wanted to give up, to stop fighting and let the inevitable happen.
He wanted to cry—and he realised, he already was.
Now.
It came, just as quickly as the flurry of emotion:
Thump! Thump!
A deep pulse coursed through his chest, shaking him from his stupor. A sensation of power spread like wildfire; it raced through his veins. He staggered, his eyes widening as he felt an adrenaline rush like no other flood him. The world around him seemed to slow as the sounds of death dulled to a distant hum.
Thump! Thump!
The pulse came again as he stared down the Aberrations crimson eyes, the pulse was stronger now, rattling through his body. His vision sharpened and the exhaustion he had felt moments ago vanished. His pains were dulling to nothing and a clarity filled the chaos in his mind. He felt his heart roaring in his ears, like a drum calling to battle. He gasped and his chest heaved—but not with fear.
This time, he felt something else. Something darker.
Thump! Thump!
Something within him roared to life, primal and full of rage. His instincts screamed, but not to run. To kill. A growl tore from within him; it sounded raw and monstrous, making the aberration in front of him freeze mid-step, its glowing crimson eyes widening and they locked onto him.
His vision flashed entirely crimson as let go of all thought. He moved.
Faster than he had thought possible, he lunged through the air in a blur, his fist crashing into the creature's disfigured face; a sickening crunch of shattered bone echoed through the air. Pain flared briefly in his knuckles, wrist and arm before quickly numbing before his rage. He didn't care about pain.
His mind couldn't keep up as his leg followed, slamming into the beast's midsection with such force that it soared backwards. The sound of broken bones reverberated as the creature smashed into a wooden wall behind it, splinters and fragments of the wall exploding outwards.
He kept moving.
His now broken hand swung again, his body ignoring the pain as his fist connected with the creatures skull. Again and again. Blood, bones and flesh spluttered across the ground, the creatures convulsing form growing still beneath him. He couldn't stop; his thoughts were drowned beneath the deafening urges of his mind, a singular idea.
To kill. To kill them all.
His fists swung repeatedly, continuing long after the creature had gone still. A mess of corrupted flesh and crimson pools laced with shards of bone lay mangled beneath him, the ground slick with the same.
His hands were bare to the bone and dripping with blood.
Finally, his body slowed, his arms dropped to his sides, and the trembling returned; blood trailed down his arms and all over his clothing. He knelt over the ruined corpse of the beast, his chest heaving as the sound of the broken world around him came flooding back.
Pain hit him all at once; his broken hands screamed, the adrenaline that had flooded his entire being seeping away. A crimson tint flashed once more across his vision as the full palette of his vision returned. His foot cried out. His mind was trying and failing to comprehend what had just happened. A rage like no other had consumed him, leaving only emptiness in its wake.
His stomach lurched as he sagged forward, retching violently over the mess in front of him. The sickly stench of blood and sick filled his nostrils, but he couldn't stop.
Tears filled his blurring vision as he tried to pull himself back together. His entire body was shaking in pain and exhaustion.
"What have I done? How…Why?" he thought.
His eyes tore down to his mangled hands, trembling as he tried to flex his fingers. They didn't respond; the bones were shattered and useless. His foot was throbbing, and he was sure he'd fractured it. Overall, he was broken, battered, and exhausted, but somehow—the beast was dead.
He had killed it.
His broken hands clutched at his chest as the thumping faded to a memory. It had cost him both hands, a foot, every ounce of energy he could muster and power he didn't know he contained, but he had killed it.
Fifteen minutes or so passed as Elias tried to gather his wits, controlling his breath in slow, steady cycles. It didn't do much to ease the pain, nor did his heart slow. He closed his eyes tightly as he imagined what he might have been able to do had he awakened already—if he were Tier one; "No… they were all Tier one… apart from the children. What did they accomplish?" he thought.
But what if he could've saved them, all of the villagers that lay maimed in the square, the families torn apart by the corrupted of the Cosmos. If he had just one skill—but he didn't, as he lay broken on the ground he realised, he was powerless—a fact that gnawed at him as screams continued to fly through the square.
"At least--maybe Mira made it?" he thought.
What about Jacob? Tess? Were they safe?
He knew that Jacob would be OK. He used to be an adventurer himself and even if he couldn't fight them all, he could escape—what about Tess?
"No, Tess is smart, she can get out." He finished in his mind.
They would reunite soon after surviving this mess—he just needed to survive against them.
Aberrations—corrupted beings, twisted reflections of what they used to be. Any living creature could be turned, stripped of its original form and driven to madness by the corruption. They were like something from a nightmare, filled only with primal hatred for the living.
The oldest stories in Eridoria spoke of Aberrations and the horrors they incurred. They ranged in power, with the 'weakest' at Tier one and the strongest recorded at Tier six. Tier six was the equivalent of the 'Calamity-King', a devastating force of unnatural power that sent the old world into a dark age, one that they still endured. Ancient tablets recovered from long-lost ruins told of the Ancient Empires and their prolonged battle against the corruption.
Anything above Tier two however, was nearly unheard of in the Empire. His mind—that sat on the edge of consciousness drifted to the System: the source of skills and power. People could advance in Tiers by unlocking abilities through the System, growing stronger with each milestone—but only those who had been awakened could tap into that strength.
Elias was still Tier zero.
If only that power he had felt minutes ago hadn't been so fleeting—it was completely gone.
A sharp pain jolted him from his thoughts as he looked down at the blood-soaked hands in front of his eyes. The pain was hard to ignore.
"I need to fix this up… I need to get home." He thought, his body to weak to speak the words aloud.
He knew he must treat it soon or wouldn't survive long enough to regret this day. His house wasn't far; if he could reach it, he could grab some of Jacob's potions and patch himself up enough to keep moving. With a final glance at the mauled corpse of the Aberration he forced himself to his feet.
Each step was agony, but he steeled his mind to survival—as he moved towards his home he heard something—he froze. His heart pounded as he identified the source.
Tessa.