—— ? ——

  “One hundred and ten. One hundred and eleven. One hundred and twelve.”

  Simon counted aloud. With each verbal second he pronounced, a thrumming beat echoed out. His hands practically vibrated with each swing as tapped the now glowing instrument against the floor.

  Please work. Please work. He prayed as he continued his count.

  The plan was simple, yet complicated. Kaelalin’s earlier nervous ramble had been oddly inspired, and this whole idea had grown out of that one conversation. Simon’s only worry was the timing. It had to be perfect. Well… that, and the oh so minor detail that his skill literally fractured the world around him.

  Jagged cracks crept through the metal floor, stretching out with each tap. Heat swelled from them in shimmering waves. The moment they’d first appeared, Simon had backed away from the mouth of the cave. This entire idea would be ruined if he couldn’t even stand at the point the plan revolved around.

  Really didn’t think this through.

  —— ? ——

  He and Kaelalin had returned to the cavern with the horrific golden pool. She had rushed straight to the other tunnel’s mouth, busying herself with her part of the plan, while Simon began his work.

  Meanwhile, Simon summoned instruments. Over the next few minutes he summoned them over and over, looking for one that would work. He had checked his skill after the first two when it felt like they were staying longer than they used to.

  ——————————

  >> Theodia’s Instrumental Summon (Inferior) - Growth-Class - Ravenous

  Level: 0 / ?

  Points: 4 / ?

  Description:

  Theodia was a bard with exceptional improvisational mastery. Gifted with an innate ability to adapt to any melody, instrument, or performance, she refused to be constrained by the tools available to her. Dissatisfied with the limitations of the instruments she carried, Theodia created an improvised summoning technique, allowing her to manifest instruments on demand.

  This early version of hers was an imperfect skill. Though limited, it laid the foundation for her eventual ascension as one of the most celebrated bards who followed Melodian the Magnificent.

  Use: Summons a random instrument for the user. This instrument will persist for five and a half minutes.

  Cooldown: 55 seconds.

  Note: This skill is a Growth skill; it can grow in rarity. Theodia’s desire for the skill remains, causing it to be Ravenous. Ravenous skills will consume all skill points available until they reach their potential.

  ——————————

  Half a minute. Those thirty seconds could be the difference between life and death.

  By the tenth summon, Kaelalin had finished her part of the setup. She walked over, eyeing the instrument in his hands. She had then informed him they were going to do some testing.

  “Come on, Kaelalin, not with this one. Just wait a minute and I’ll get something better,” Simon protested, holding up two dull metal cymbals like a bad joke.

  “If it works with those, it’ll work with anything. Now test it.” Her tone left no room for argument.

  Simon had a vivid mental picture of a toy monkey in a red vest. Sighing, he began clapping the cymbals together.He felt absolutely ridiculous, and despite how carefully he tried, the sound he made was a cacophony of awful.

  Seconds later, Kaelalin’s face filled with horror and pain. “How? It’s two metal discs. HOW are you so awful with them?!”

  “I told you–” Clash! “--I’m really bad–” Clash! “--at Music!” Clash! Simon said, trying to keep something that resembled a beat.

  Kaelalin covered her ears. “Remember when I said I was curious to hear you play? I'll take it all back!”

  Simon rolled his eyes. Then, an idea came to him.

  Eh, why the hell not?

  He started strutting across the room, jerky and mechanical, mimicking the toy monkey from his childhood.

  Kaelalin just stared. “How did it get worse?!”

  “I just need a red hat!” Simon yelled back, grinning.

  That seemed to be her breaking point. Kaelalin started moving towards the tunnel to salvation. “On second thought—”

  The rest of her sentence was lost as a deep thrum rolled out from Simon’s next clash. The sound carried, resonating through the floor and walls. The stacking effect of the skill was here.

  Kaelalin’s foot had just entered the tunnel, but she stopped. As she turned, her expression transformed, hope replacing her despair.

  Half a minute of clashing later, and the thrum was palpable. Simon slammed the cymbals together with a final thrum, then ceased his ear-splitting concert and gave her a massive grin.

  “Yeah,” he said. “This is going to work.”

  —— ? ——

  “One hundred forty. One hundred forty-one.” Simon said. The thrumming deepened with every tap and every second.

  He glanced down at the instrument that had returned to him. As the energy grew, he had been forced to grip the heavy jet-black electric guitar with both hands. The instrument’s streaks of silver and red that now seemed alive. Maybe it was just in his head, but Simon swore they were moving.

  The silvery strings were a blur, vibrating on their own. Each strike caused them to screech a discordant melody that rattled the air.

  Despite all of this, the instrument held together, like it was made for this.

  The skill was working! The only problem was, it was working too well.

  Every pulse cracked the floor.

  As soon as that started happening, Simon had dashed to the far side of the cavern. Then he started walking slowly , trying to spread out the damage.

  The rhythm grew, and with each step the cracks he made grew more distinct. Heat spiked within seconds whenever he lingered, forcing him to keep moving. His pace quickened, every strike warping the metal further.

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  “One hundred eighty-two,” he muttered, slamming the guitar down. Thunk-thuuuum. The strings were now a blur, playing on their own, each note was a deep pulse that seemed to rattle the cavern’s bones.

  “One hundred ninety-one”

  The first vein of molten metal surfaced, oozing from a fissure moments after the guitar struck. Simon could hear nothing beyond the roar of thrumming notes and shrieking metal.

  His arms quivered as the instrument bucked like a living thing. Jaw tight, teeth clenched, he felt the vibrations surge up through his shoulders and into his skull. It was like holding a weedwhip whose motor had been replaced with one from a semi-truck.

  Then that maniac had bolted a chain to the end before feeding it jet fuel.

  Cracks riddled the floor now. He was running out of space.

  “Two hundred-ten. Two hundred-eleven.”

  He sprinted for the far wall, legs pumping. The floor near that wall was far less damaged than anywhere else. He had only been there once at the beginning of his walk, so it should hold together.

  He just needed a few more seconds. He slid to the wall and tapped the guitar.

  A huge mistake.

  The floor exploded.

  Molten metal gushed like an over-shaken soda can. Simon planted his feet on the wall and kicked off, launching himself clear. A wave of blistering heat rolled over him, burning the hair from his skin.

  “Argh! Damnit!” he shouted as he landed, molten droplets searing into flesh. Behind him, molten rain hissed and metal bubbled from beneath as the cavern gained a new pool.

  Simon grit his teeth. This had to be good enough.

  The cavern smelt of burnt hair, acrid metal and other ‘wonderful’ smells.

  He pushed forward, his arms and body trembling with effort. The cavern shimmered like a mirage, the air warped by the sheer force of the skill.

  But he couldn’t stop.

  Simon tapped the guitar again. The floor screamed in a wrenching protest, but it held.

  “Two hundred twenty-two.”

  Simon clenched his right arm, tensing every muscle he could. His feet kicked off, and he blasted across the room. Mid-sprint, he let go with his left hand. The guitar bucked in his single grip, causing Simon to growl. His arm locked as his muscles twitched.

  The golden pool of horror loomed ahead. Simon pulled on his skill and he could barely feel it over the energy that radiated from the guitar. His eyes narrowed in focus as he directed the summon to his left hand.

  The pop was drowned out by the thrum of energy and discordant music. He felt a familiar shape, so he glanced down.

  A fucking kazoo.

  With a flash of pained amusement, he hurled the offending instrument and then turned towards the trapped tunnel. His feet gripped the floor as he shot forward, not waiting for the instrument to splash down.

  “Two hundred thirty-one.” He slammed the guitar into the cavern’s center. Steam hissed around him as his long strides carried him to the entrance.

  Simon’s face broke into a grin as he heard it. A new sound had joined the symphony of chaos.

  A wailing scraping scream.

  Simon pushed harder, both hands barely holding the vibrating guitar.

  Holy shit. Please work. Please.

  He slowed his rhythm. Golden light flared as molten metal was released in his wake.

  The wailing grew louder. Clanging footsteps followed.

  Simon struck the ground one last time before slamming into the wall like the golems so many times before. His shoulder flared with pain, but he barely registered it. His eyes were locked on the tunnel entrance. His hearing tunneled down to one sound.

  The sound of the approaching monstrosity.

  “Two hundred forty-five.” Less than a minute left. He crouched low. The surrounding air shimmered with power, the guitar vibrating so violently it blurred in his vision.

  Come on. Faster, you bastard.

  A wail came down the tunnel. It was close. But…

  “Three hundred and one.”

  Fuck. What the hell is taking you so long? Stopping for a tour?

  No choice. He had to keep the skill going. He looked at the floor, wrenched and covered in fractures. His gaze swept the surrounding area, then snapped to the wall. He slammed the guitar into it, causing fissures to scream through, vanishing into the distance.

  Searing steam blasted from the crack, scalding his skin. Boiling vapor melted his skin, and he screamed. But he couldn’t move. He needed to be right here. Right next to the mouth, within striking distance.

  His mind wavered. His vision narrowed to pinpricks as consciousness fled. The bucking guitar started sliding from his grip.

  He was going to die. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. This world was just pain in...

  Something in him snapped.

  Hell no.

  Clarity surged. Years of frustration boiled to the surface. He hadn’t pushed this far just to collapse.

  No.

  He coughed, ragged and wet, as he spat out. “Three hundred and twelve.” The pain that radiated throughout his body numbed. He ignored his raw and blistering skin. Simon’s hand became a vice that locked down his disobedient weapon.

  He crouched lower, shifting his arms into his best batting stance. They protested and cried blood from their wounds, but he ignored them.

  When had sound gotten so dull? Something had happened to his hearing.

  But that didn’t stop him from hearing the explosion. Blue light blazed out, searing into his eyes. He kept them trained on the tunnel. Waves of force blasted against him. Simon pushed back.

  The golem stumbled in, barely touched by the trap laid on the tunnel floor.

  Simon’s scorched face split into a grin. It had stopped.

  Right outside the tunnel. Right past him.

  In just the right spot.

  The golems head snapped toward him with inhuman speed.

  

  


  

  “What’s up, asshole?” Simon said.

  Then he swung. The black guitar blurred, energy pulsing around it.

  CRACKTHUMMMMMMMMMM!

  The guitar connected with the creature's lower body. Reality rippled, a deep pulse bending space. For an instant, Simon saw the distortions balloon into a perfect sphere. Then it collapsed in like a black hole, every ounce of energy was sucked to one singular point.

  The guitar disintegrated. The construct jerked, then it was gone, flung across the cavern as if a divine hand had slapped it aside. Its lower half disintegrated and molten fragments rained down, trailing it like a comet.

  It slammed into the far wall. Unmoving.

  Simon stood there, swaying. His arms screamed. What was left of his skin flared with pain. He couldn’t stop staring at the far crater.

  “I… did it,” he rasped. “Holy shit, I fucking did it!”

  His knees buckled, and he slumped down. Pain screamed from every part of him. He was alive, and that asshole wasn’t.

  Simon’s vision started to fade again. He had held on through pure grit, but now the damage to his body was making itself known.

  Kaelalin would come, he reasoned. He let himself sink, placing a hand on the floor. It seared, but at this point the pain was insignificant compared to the rest of his body.

  Just a nap, then he’d be ready to mess shit up again.

  Still.. He wanted to see what he had gained from the kill. The reward had to be amazing.

  Except… there was no system notice. He fought himself as everything in him just wanted to lay down and sleep. He was just barely able to stave off unconsciousness as he fought to stay awake.

  He pulled his bleary eyes from the floor. His eyes tracked back to the far wall… something was moving.

  The golem clawed itself from the crater, its lower half gone. All that was left were its arms, torso and head. It splashed down into the pool below. A wave of molten metal surged out as it disappeared below the surface.

  Agonizing seconds passed.

  Then the pool’s edge broke.

  A glowing hand slammed into the rim, anchor-like fingers hooked into the warped metal. Golden droplets showered the floor as the golem hauled itself free. It dragged its molten-soaked torso forward.

  Glowing eyes locked onto Simon. There was no wailing scream, no sound, just burning hate. A fractured arm reached forward and dug into the floor. Then the other arm followed. With each stroke, it dragged its molten weight another few feet.

  Hand over hand, it moved. Slow at first, the weight of its molten-covered torso groaning against warped metal. Each pull left gouges that hissed and steamed, golden tears dripping between the cracks.

  Then it quickened.

  The pauses between grips shortened. Fingers plunged and tore free in rapid sequence, chunks of glowing floor scattering like shrapnel.

  Simon’s chest tightened.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  He tried to stand, to lift his arms, to do anything. Every fiber of his body screamed in protest and rebelled.

  He had to move. He had to do something. It wasn’t dead.

  The wreck of a golem closed the distance in a blur of molten motion. Simon staggered to his feet, forcing numb legs under him. His hands twitched uselessly, refusing to work.

  The creature approached, then lunged, molten fingers outstretched. The air warped with heat.

  Pop!

  Something solid slapped into Simon’s palm. Pain lanced up his arm as he gripped it and twisted into a final swing. Every shred of strength poured into the motion as a wailing scream tore from the creature’s molten throat.

  Simon’s vision tunneled, the world reduced to the hate in those burning eyes.

  He swung.

  —— ? ——