Maybe there was a little blip of a heartbeat. Some notion of potential buried within the misshapen form. As faint as the drop of a pin, as distant as the heavens long unknown, perhaps it clung to its life with an iron grip on a crumbling bar. It was never meant to live. Yet a flickering ember clung to light.
Holding the being’s deformed skull with a metal hand, Lune gazed into vast fields of carnage and abominations, and snuffed out the faint spark. Thousands upon thousands of distinct imprints jutted from the muddied, putrid earth. For most of these… things, there was no light coursing through their form. Very few even seemed capable of containing life; for every half formed, doomed wretch, there were thousands of clumps of meat, or rocky and metallic structures reformed in the visage of life. Even the foliage on this rotten path seemed at one with the rest, withered and strange. It was as if all had become one, and was uncleanly cut from unity into some misshapen mistake.
Looking back to their side, Lune spotted Qira kicking a chunk of wood and bone, aiming towards a mammalian looking thing crawling out of the muck. Putting all her might into the kick, the chunk rocketed towards the thing, and impacted. Not with a crack, or with a thud, but as if a rotten fruit, gave in and sank.
“Miss Qira,” Lune stood from their crouched position, wiping away residue left by the surrounding muck, “I’d ask that you refrain from harming these beings any more than their current existence.”
“If you think that…” Qira vaguely gestured towards the crumbling mass, ”thing was alive, I should be the one calling you out for ‘unnecessary harm”.”
“Touche.” Lune rescinded their argument, and returned to travel. Each heavy step sunk into the ground with an uneasy squelch. Qira caught up in a few moments, keeping to their side.
It seemed as if the air became ever more putrid with every passing moment, a cacophony of scents coagulated together in an eyewatering haze. Despite only having entered the Rotlands an hour prior, it felt as if every sense was being corroded and poisoned. For the first time in weeks, Lune held no envy for Qira’s increased sensory capabilities.
“Are you sure there’s not a less gross path we can take?” Qira spoke through her hand, trying to block out the foul air.
“I am afraid not Miss. That is, of course, unless you wish to venture into the sea.” Despite no physical indication, Qira could feel the smirk behind their voice. “As you have told me, it is only one of your least favorite biomes, but perhaps you would make an–”
“Alright alright, I’ll shut up about it,” Qira interjected, lightly punching Lune’s side, “This place still sucks though.”
Searching for some sort of distraction, she reached behind her into a hand crafted sack that had been recently re-mended by Lune, whose ornate stitching seemed alien to the bag’s original loose strings and patchwork design. Rising to meet her hand, the slimy surface of a cephalopod pressed against her skin. The creature, Mollosque as it had been named, seemed content as always with the disgusting climate, perhaps even excited by it, signaled by the supposedly joyful squelching and wriggling as it was pulled from the sack.
While Qira tried to focus on playing with the small creature, Lune remained observant. What appeared to be a small cloud on the horizon mere minutes ago had grown ever higher and darker. A new scent perforated the air, almost smoky, as if charred meat. Then, ever so faintly, the ground beneath seemed to rumble. Through the corner of their eye, they noticed Qira hesitate for a moment, before cautiously turning her head without averting her gaze.
“Do you hear that?” Much to Mollosque’s dismay, it was placed back within the sack with a slight haste.
“Most likely not to your capabilities, Miss Qira.”
“It sounds like hooves,” she spoke distantly, attempting to further discern the noise beyond the pops and squishing around her, “just one set, but heavy. Like if thunder could run.”
Growing ever closer, Lune could barely make out the silhouette of a fattened bull, its horns jutting far out to its sides before curving in. The billowing smoke seemed to rise from behind it, or perhaps even from the creature itself.
“It appears to be a bull,” Lune informed, details becoming ever nearer, “Although, evidently diseased. Its skin is cracked and covered in stones.” After a few moments of the loudening sound of its approach, Lune added one final detail. “Miss Qira, I fear it seems to be charging towards us in a frenzy.”
“You think we can outrun it?”
“I am doubtful.” With every passing word, the creature in the distance increased speed. From what had appeared moments ago to be a dot on the horizon was gaining clearer and clearer form. Even as the two began to move away from its path, it turned to aim directly for them.
“Do you think I could… y’know?” She glanced to the spear latched to the side of her bag, vaguely nodding towards it.
“Miss Qira, I am unsure if my peak condition had the potential to halt this beast.” Quicker and quicker, faster and faster. A crackling inferno roared from within its body, orange and red light glowing through the cracks of its rough exterior. “But I have constructed a plan.”
“Ok well what is it?” Qira’s breath quickened as the words raced out of her mouth, realizing there was little time remaining before the beast rammed straight through the two.
“When I say go, I need you to dive into the muck, understood?” Lune moved their gaze from the bull for a few moments to check Qira’s answer, which seemed to be a hasty nod, before bracing herself. Their eyes once more locked onto the bull as they began to count down.
“Five,” the plating of their arms began to pop and reorient.
“Four,” rotten air passed through Qira’s nose and out her mouth. She hardly noticed.
“Three,” metal pieces locked together into some resemblance of a shield.
“Two,” the earth below seemed to quake with the fury of a thousand storms.
“One,” Lune’s legs pressed beneath the muck and into solid ground.
“Now!” Charging with incredible might, the beast’s skull collided with Lune’s shield. Metal fragments shattered as Qira dove as far from the bull as possible. She could feel its blazing heat blast against her back, and for a moment, felt as if she was back… no, not now.
As she impacted with the sludge, she turned to face Lune and the bull. Despite preparations, they were launched far back, skidding on the surface of the muck.
“Lune!” She exclaimed, watching her companion sink slightly into the mud, then turned to the beast. The bull’s rampage had temporarily ceased, recoiling from the harsh impact. Looking at its pale face, now slightly cracked, Qira watched as the charred upper body of a man crawled from the beast’s maw, hanging limp beneath. Its glossy eyes tracked the imprint Lune had left in their collapse, then to Qira, who attempted to pick herself up from the rotted earth.
“..Fue…el….” The blackened head raspily muttered, reaching to melded objects rising from the muck beneath. Surrounding the bull, the sludge seemed to become viscous. Any solid matter within floated to the top, and was carried into the throat of the bull by the strange man on lanky arms. Noticing its distracted state, Qira rose to inspect Lune’s condition.
“Are you…?” Qira hesitantly spoke, watching as Lune’s now shattered plating popped somewhat into their original place. Yet as she stepped to further assess their harm, an almost whistle like voice called to her.
“Hunn…gerrr…” Whisps of smoke trailed from its mouth, carrying its faint words to Qira. “Fueel…ther….ree…” It pointed a long finger to a small piece of a log at her feet.
Vaguely understanding its desire, Qira took the object. Despite it having just a little too much give to be a piece of wood, she grasped it and cautiously stepped closer to the creature, blocking her face from embers that spat from its gullet. She proceeded to place it near the edge of the now boiling liquid at its hooves, and watched as the man carried it into the beast’s throat. The blaze within churned brighter, but seemed to be more controlled.
“Runnn….fearrr….hungerrr,” the human’s arms reached towards itself, grasping its own shoulders as if to be entombed, “no…mor…ree…..hunnggerr…….no..morre…runn..ning.….” It slowly crept back into the bull’s maw, which closed as the head disappeared into the bright. In a silent moment, the beast looked towards Qira in gratitude, and taking its leisure, slowly walked away.
Utterly baffled and distracted by the circumstances, Qira shook her head and remembered to check Lune. Rushing to their side, Qira reached into her sack to find some wood carved into the shape of Lune’s plating, and carefully replaced the damaged pieces of their arms.
“Miss-s-s-s Qira,” their voice crackled with static, “are y-y-you unhar-armed-d?”
“Thanks to your stupid move, yeah,” she equally thanked the machine and scolded them, “Was that really the smartest thing you could have done?”
“It was the o-only way you remained unharmed.” With each passing word, their voice box repaired itself, becoming clearer and clearer.
“And what about making it safe to the Bastion?” She pressed in another replacement plate, and watched as Lune’s frame locked it into place.
“Secondary to protecting a human from harm.” They reached behind them as Qira switched to mending the other arm, pressing off from the muck.
“Well next time, maybe try not to act as a flimsy shield,” Qira locked in the final plate and stepped back as Lune rose from the ground, “And think of something that doesn’t land us both in the mud.”
“I can’t make any promises, Miss Qira.” They lightly chuckled at their own words, much to Qira’s dismay, and continued to march forward once more.
“Fine. Just don’t make me dive into the mud then!” Qira readjusted their bag as Mollosque crawled from within onto their shoulder. It seemed to make a noise in similar dissatisfaction with being jolted about.
“Would a lake be preferable?” Lune jokingly mocked, and began to bolt forward as Qira chased behind them.
“OF COURSE NOT WHY WOULD YOU EVER!!” At that, the two ran off towards the once smoky horizons, caring not if the muck dragged them down.