Chapter 83: The Suicide Mission

The dust settles in the cramped ventilation chamber. We are alive, but we are battered. The adrenaline of the collapsing mine fades, leaving behind the throbbing ache of bruises and the sharp sting of cuts. Hachiro leans against the rough stone wall, his chest heaving. His knuckles are raw and bloody, but he is grinning like a maniac.

"That was loud," Hachiro says. He wipes sweat from his forehead. "I bet the Spinner King heard that one."

"He felt it," Yogawa corrects. He is sitting on the floor, cleaning his glasses with a scrap of his robe. His hands are still shaking slightly. "We just dropped a mountain on one of his Generals. The web is vibrating. I can feel the tremors in the leylines."

"Good," Kizawa says. He stands by the tunnel entrance, peering into the darkness. His twin swords are sheathed, but his hand rests on the hilt of Silence. "Let him feel it. Let him know we are here."

I look at my team. We are a mess. Our clothes are torn, our faces streaked with soot and blood. But there is a new fire in our eyes. We are no longer just surviving. We are fighting back.

"We cannot stay here," Erima says. She is checking her remaining arrows, counting them with a frown. "The collapse bought us time, but it also blocked our retreat. We are cut off from the Grak-ta."

"We are not retreating," I say. I stand up, brushing dust from my kimono. "We are advancing. We have six more Generals to kill."

"Six," Yogawa mutters. "The Weaver is dead. That leaves the Glutton, the Architect, the Tyrant, the Twins, and the Herald."

"The Herald is dead," I remind him. "Or at least, its physical form is broken. We saw it fall."

"The Herald is a voice," Yogawa says. "You cannot kill a voice by dropping it down a hole. It will return. But for now, let us assume it is out of commission."

"Five Generals then," Hachiro says. "Easy."

"Not easy," Erima says. "The Weaver was arrogant. It came to us. The others will not be so foolish. They will fortify. They will hunt us with purpose."

"Then we need to hit them where they live," Kizawa says. He turns to face us. "We need to find their strongholds."

"I can track them," Yogawa says. "The death of the Weaver released a massive amount of Void energy. It created a vacuum in the web. The other Generals will shift their power to compensate. I can follow the flow."

"Where does it lead?" I ask.

Yogawa closes his eyes. He extends his senses, probing the invisible currents of magic that permeate the Abyss. He frowns, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"There is a massive concentration of energy below us," Yogawa says. "Deeper in the mines. It feels like... hunger."

"The Glutton," Erima says. "Krell mentioned him. He consumes everything. Ore, flesh, magic. He is the resource gatherer."

"If we take him out, we starve the King's army," I say.

"It is a fortress," Yogawa warns. "The energy signature is dense. Thousands of Hunters. And the terrain is unstable. It is a pit."

"Sounds like a suicide mission," Hachiro says. He pushes himself off the wall. "When do we leave?"

"Now," Kizawa says.

We move out. We descend through the ventilation shafts, moving deeper into the earth. The air gets hotter, thicker. It smells of sulfur and rotten meat. The silence of the upper mines is replaced by a low, constant rumble. It sounds like a massive stomach growling.

We emerge onto a high ledge overlooking a vast, circular pit. It is a strip mine, but on a monstrous scale. Thousands of Stalkers and beetle-demons swarm over the walls, tearing chunks of rock and ore from the earth. They carry the debris to the center of the pit, where a massive, bloated shape sits.

It is the Glutton.

It looks like a toad made of obsidian and fat. Its mouth is a gaping cavern lined with rows of spinning teeth. It shovels rocks and demons alike into its maw, chewing with a sickening crunch.

"That is disgusting," Hachiro whispers.

"It is a factory," Erima says. "Look. It is not just eating. It is refining."

She points. From the Glutton's back, vents spew thick, black smoke. The smoke rises and hardens, forming new Void-chains that snake up into the darkness.

"He is rebuilding the web," Yogawa says. "He is turning matter into Void energy."

"We have to kill it," I say.

"How?" Hachiro asks. "It is surrounded by an army. And it is the size of a building."

"We go inside," Kizawa says.

We all look at him.

"Inside?" Yogawa squeaks. "You mean... let it eat us?"

"It eats everything," Kizawa says. "It is blind with hunger. If we hide among the debris, it will swallow us whole."

"And then?" Erima asks.

"And then we cut our way out," Kizawa says. "From the inside. We destroy its heart."

"That is definitely a suicide mission," Hachiro says. He grins. "I love it."

"It is the only way," Kizawa says. "Its hide is too thick. We cannot pierce it from the outside. We have to bypass the armor."

"We need a distraction," I say. "Something to make it open wide."

"I will be the distraction," Hachiro says. "I am the tastiest thing here."

"No," Erima says. "You are the Fist. We need you to break the ribs once we are inside. I will be the distraction."

She holds up her obsidian bow.

"I can hit it from here," she says. "I can make it angry."

"Do it," I say.

We climb down to the floor of the pit, hiding behind piles of rubble. The smell is overpowering. The ground shakes with every movement of the Glutton.

Erima stays high on the ledge. She draws her bow. She aims not at the Glutton, but at a cluster of explosive crystals hanging from the ceiling above it.

She fires.

The arrow strikes true. The crystals detonate. A shower of glowing rocks rains down on the Glutton's head.

The demon roars. It is a sound that rattles my teeth. It looks up, its massive jaws opening wide to scream its rage.

"Now!" Kizawa yells.

We sprint. We run out from cover, charging straight for the open maw. The Stalkers see us, but they are too slow. We are moving with the desperate speed of the damned.

The Glutton sees us. It does not attack. It inhales.

A massive vacuum wind pulls us off our feet. We are flying through the air, sucked into the darkness of the monster's throat.

"Brace yourselves!" I scream.

We tumble into the wet, reeking dark. The jaws slam shut behind us.

We are inside.

It is hot. It is wet. It smells of acid and death. We slide down a fleshy tube, landing in a vast stomach chamber. The floor is a lake of digestive acid. Islands of undigested rock float in the bile.

"Yogawa! Shield!" Kizawa commands.

Yogawa is already chanting. A bubble of blue light surrounds us, protecting us from the acid spray.

"We have to find the heart," I say. I conjure a ball of golden flame to light the gloom.

The walls of the stomach are lined with teeth. Parasites the size of dogs crawl over the flesh.

"Up there," Kizawa points.

High above the acid lake, a pulsing valve beats with a dark rhythm. It is the gateway to the core.

"Hachiro," I say. "Throw me."

Hachiro nods. He grabs my waist. He spins. He throws me like a javelin.

I fly through the air, my flame blazing. I hit the valve. I drive my dagger into the flesh.

I cut.

Black blood sprays over me. The valve opens.

"Come on!" I yell.

Kizawa, Hachiro, and Yogawa climb up the fleshy walls, using their weapons as ice picks. We squeeze through the valve.

We are in the heart chamber.

It is a room of pure energy. The heart is a crystal of black void, suspended in a web of veins. It pulses with a terrible, anti-life beat.

"Destroy it," Kizawa says.

We attack together. Hachiro punches. Kizawa slashes. I burn.

The crystal cracks.

The Glutton screams. The sound comes from everywhere at once. The chamber begins to collapse.

"Time to go!" Erima's voice crackles over the comms. "I secured an exit route! The rear vent is opening!"

"We are leaving!" I shout.

We run. We scramble through the twisting intestines of the beast, chased by a wave of dissolving void energy. We see light ahead. The rear vent.

We dive out.

We land on the hard stone of the pit floor, covered in slime.

Behind us, the Glutton convulses. It bloats. It explodes.

A shockwave of black goo blasts across the pit.

We lie there, panting, laughing.

"Two down," Hachiro wheezes. "Five to go."

"I need a bath," Yogawa groans.

"We all do," Kizawa says. He stands up, wiping the slime from his blades. "But the war waits for no one."

We stand up. We are filthy. We are tired. But we are winning.