The Slingshot of Desperation

Broken Tooth Pass had become the death trap it was named for. Before them stood a wall of Lucas’s mercenaries, their spears and swords forming a grim, impenetrable hedge. Behind them, two Black Knights advanced with the silence of the grave, their heavy footfalls a dreadful harmony of grinding steel and scraping bone that echoed off the narrow canyon walls.

“It’s over! We’re sandwiched!” Bruno shrieked, his voice trembling with a fresh wave of panic. “I told you! I wish I had just kept bouncing in that other canyon!”

“Shut your mouth, Bruno!” Katrina hissed. Her eyes darted across the sheer rock faces, scanning every crack and ledge for a potential escape route, a desperate calculus running in her mind. But there was no way out. She turned to Hector. “You have an idea, hunter? Or should we start saying our last prayers?”

Hector’s gaze was fixed on the advancing knights. His face was hard, set with the kind of sorrowful determination a sculptor might carve into marble. “An idea? Even if we could get past Lucas’s men, we can’t outrun those monsters. We have to fight.”

“Fight?” Katrina let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Your arrows don’t work on them, and neither do my daggers. That’s not a fight, Hector. That’s suicide.”

Hector’s gaze flickered for a moment, past her to Maris, who was trembling behind a tree, and then to Bruno, who was frozen with terror. And in that instant, a wild, impossible idea ignited in his mind. It was a plan born not of logic, but of pure, unadulterated desperation.

He turned to Bruno. “I need you to become a ball, Bruno. Right now.”

Bruno stared at him as if he had lost his mind. “What? Are you insane? Those metal heaps will squash me like a grape!”

“Not for bouncing this time,” Hector said, a dangerous light glinting in his eyes. “For flying.” Ignoring the stunned looks from both Bruno and Katrina, he turned to Maris. “Maris, listen to me. I know you’re afraid, but we need you. I don’t want roots. I want vines. The thickest, most elastic vines you can create, stretched between the two walls of the pass. Like a slingshot.”

Maris’s eyes widened. “But… that’s…”

“You can do it,” Hector insisted, the confidence in his voice momentarily quelling her trembling. “Just focus on us. On protecting us.”

“This is officially the stupidest plan I have ever heard,” Katrina stated. But a flicker of grudging admiration for its sheer audacity was visible on her face. “I doubt it will even work.”

“You can either be the cannonball or the bug on the floor when it lands, Bruno,” Hector said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Your choice.”

Bruno looked from the two advancing Black Knights to the unshakeable resolve in Hector’s eyes. He took a deep breath and grumbled. “You all hate me, don’t you? Fine, fine! But if this doesn’t work, my ghost is going to haunt your soup every night for the rest of your lives!”

The plan unfolded with the speed of thought. Maris pressed her hands to the ground and closed her eyes. From the canyon walls, fibrous vines as thick as a man’s arm erupted, lashing across the chasm to the opposite wall, forming a massive, primitive catapult. At the same time, Bruno inflated with a soft pop, transforming into a ten-meter sphere of flesh and indignation.

“NOW!” Hector roared. He and Katrina threw their entire weight back, pulling the giant slingshot taut.

“THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA!” came the muffled boom from inside Ball-Bruno.

“WE KNOW!” Katrina yelled back. And they let go.

Like a cannonball fired from a circus gun, Bruno shot down the canyon with incredible velocity. The two Black Knights had no time to react to the bizarre, spherical projectile. Bruno’s massive, resilient mass slammed into both knights simultaneously. It wasn’t a destructive blow; it was like a thousand-ton bowling ball striking two obsidian pins. The knights were thrown backward with a horrendous screech of tortured metal, crashing into the rock walls at the entrance of the pass, where they lay momentarily pinned and immobilized.

“It worked!” Hector shouted in disbelief. “This is our chance! For Lucas’s men!”

But as they began to charge toward the barricade, a high-pitched, ear-splitting sonic wave erupted from the far end of the pass. Lucas’s men cried out in agony, clutching their ears as they collapsed. The sonic vibration cracked the rocks above them, and a small avalanche of stone and debris cascaded down, shattering the barricade and burying the soldiers.

Three figures emerged from the chaos and the dust cloud. At the forefront, a familiar, mocking smirk on his face, stood Pazzo.

“I trust we’re not too late for the festivities?” Pazzo said, calmly surveying the devastation. “It appears you’re in a spot of trouble.”

Beside him, it was clear Harmon had been the source of the sonic attack. And leading them was Nicolas.

“Nicolas!” Katrina called out, a wave of relief washing over her.

“What is this?!” Lucas roared. But his army was scattered, his plan in ruins. He gave a signal to his surviving men. “Fall back!” he bellowed. “This isn’t over, Zinox!” And just as suddenly as he appeared, he vanished back into the shadows.

One threat was gone, but the greatest remained. The two Black Knights were already untangling themselves from the rocks, rising to their feet to advance on the now-reunited group of six Zinox.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” Pazzo said, dusting off his coat. “Time for a bit of pest control.”

What followed was unlike any battle they had fought before. It was a symphony of perfect coordination.

“The joint behind its left knee, Katrina! Now!” Nicolas shouted, his foresight revealing a momentary vulnerability in the knight’s stance.

As Katrina flowed like a serpent toward the indicated spot, Harmon sent out a focused sonic pulse that resonated against that specific joint, causing the armor to vibrate and weaken. This time, when Katrina’s daggers struck, they bit deep into the compromised metal.

The other knight swung its greatsword at Hector, but a controlled burst of roots from Maris shot from the ground, tangling in the knight’s feet and throwing it off balance. Hector used the opening to send an arrow into the unprotected joint at the knight’s neck, just below its helm.

Pazzo, meanwhile, threw a small device from his pocket that attached itself to the first knight’s back. It let out a high-pitched squeal, overloading the knight’s internal energy systems and causing it to stagger. This “burp cannon” struck the already faltering second knight, sending it toppling to the ground.

The battle was over. The motionless, metal husks of the two Black Knights lay defeated on the canyon floor.

The six Zinox stood together in the middle of Broken Tooth Pass, panting but united. They were battered, exhausted, but for the first time, they were truly a team.

“Right on time,” Hector said, giving Pazzo a nod of grim acknowledgment.