Chapter 62: The Weaver in the Dark

Yogawa's words, "there is only HIM," hang in the vibrating, sterile air.

The ground trembles.

The humming... stops.

It is replaced by a deep, slow, thudding. Like a heartbeat the size of a mountain.

"What... is that?" Hachiro whispers, his one good hand glowing a faint, sickly green. His Miasma-chi is reacting, flaring up in the face of this *new, immense pressure.

"He... knows we are here," Yogawa chatters, his face pale, his eyes darting around the endless silver plain. "He... is re-weaving. He... is re-weaving the web."

Kizawa stares ahead. His eyes narrow.

"The... trail," he says, his voice a low growl.

I look.

Mizuki's scorched footprints. The trail of blighted silk.

It... stops.

It ends.

It ends at a wall.

A wall that was not there a second ago.

It... is a wall of pure, thick, glistening black silk, rising from the silver floor like a wave of congealed night. It stretches up into the infinite darkness above. Sealing the path.

"A... dead end," I whisper, raising my Grak-ta bow. The obsidian arrowhead gleams in the pale light.

"He... is corralling us," Kizawa says. He does not sound afraid. He... sounds furious.

He looks to his left.

I follow his gaze.

A new wall is RISING from the floor. Another pillar of black silk.

"It... is a maze!" I realize, my blood running cold. "He... is building a maze around us!"

"Not... a maze," Yogawa whispers, his eyes glued to the glistening black silk. His grimoire is clutched to his chest like a shield. "It... is a trap. A... stomach. He... is not guiding us. He... is digesting us."

Kizawa walks to the black wall. He studies it.

"Kizawa, no! Do not touch it!" I yell.

He ignores me. He lifts 'Silence'.

He slashes.

The blade hits the silk.

It does not cut.

It... STICKS.

The silk thrums, as if alive. Tendrils of it... sticky, black threads... instantly wrap around his steel sword, crawling up the blade, latching onto his arm.

"It HAS ME!" he roars, pulling back, his feet sliding on the silver silk. The wall is PULLING him in.

"HACHIRO!" I scream.

Hachiro reacts on pure instinct. He charges, his one good fist igniting in a furious green flare of Miasma-chi.

He PUNCHES the black silk.

His fist sinks deep into the sticky mass.

"It... I... am stuck!" he roars, his eyes wide with panic. "I... cannot pull it out! It... is EATING my chi!"

He is right. His green flame is sputtering, being drawn into the web like water into a sponge.

They... are both trapped.