Lance's knees hit the floor as he sank down, still clutching Dario like the dog might somehow anchor him to reality. The heat of the blast had faded, but the pounding in his chest hadn't. His breaths came fast and shallow, rattling like dry leaves in a storm.
He stared at the scorch marks, the cracked wall, the lingering scent of burnt metal and something fouler beneath it all.
The creature was gone—but so much worse than gone. It was out there now. Somewhere, breathing, waiting.
And maybe—
Maybe—
It had come for him.
He didn't understand how, or why, or what he was supposed to do. He only knew the flutter inside his chest felt more alive, more urgent, more impossible to ignore.
The lines between his thoughts blurred. The small things—coffee tasting like nothing, shadows that shifted just beyond sight, the buzzing hum under the floor—suddenly felt like clues, warnings written in a language his mind was too tired to read.
He shook his head, trying to push the terror down. Not real. Not real. Not real.
But then—
A heavy thud came from the hallway behind them.
Lance froze.
Dani's hand went to her grenade launcher again, fingers tight on the grip.
The sound grew closer.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Too heavy. Too deliberate.
He barely dared to breathe when he felt a cold presence behind him.
Slow, wet breathing. Low and measured.
Lance dared a glance.
The cow-shaped thing was there again.
Closer now.
Its bloodshot eyes locked onto his, unblinking.
The wet, slack mouth on its nose moved, but no sound came out.
Panic exploded through Lance's veins.
He snatched Dario close, voice cracking as he stammered, "We—"
Dani cut him off with a sharp shove, yanking him to his feet.
"No time," she hissed.
They sprinted toward the back exit, the creature's heavy footsteps echoing behind them.
The safe house, their refuge, was no longer safe.
And Lance knew—without knowing how—that whatever was inside him wasn't just watching.
It was hungry.
They burst through the back door, lungs burning, Dario yipping anxiously at Lance's heels. Dani was right behind them, grenade launcher slung over her shoulder, eyes sharp and scanning the darkness.
But the safe house was already changing.
The air thickened, dense and viscous like molasses. The concrete beneath their feet rippled like water, waves distorting the edges of cracked pavement. The streetlights flickered—then stretched into long, twisted shapes, their light bleeding into impossible colors.
Behind them, the cow-thing lumbered out of the doorway, but the creature wasn't moving across space so much as pulling the space around itself. The world folded and warped at its edges, bending like a funhouse mirror that grew darker, hungrier.
Lance's chest fluttered — the twitch inside him suddenly bloomed into a surge, cold and electric, shooting down his arms. His hands clenched, the nails digging into his palms as the ground beneath trembled.
His voice was barely a whisper. "Dani... I don't know how, but... I think I can slow it down."
Dani didn't question it. She just nodded, eyes locked forward, ready.
Lance's vision blurred, then sharpened. The air around his fingers shimmered, faint like heat waves on asphalt.
He extended a trembling hand toward the twisting world, and reality pulled like fabric over a frame. The warped pavement stalled, ripples freezing mid-wave. The distorted streetlights snapped back toward normal, their colors fading to soft yellow.
Behind them, the creature hissed — a wet, grinding sound — and surged forward. But the space it dragged behind it began to tear, fissures opening like cracks in glass, tendrils of darkness licking out.
Lance felt it at his core: a cold hunger clawing upward, trying to claw inside.
He pushed harder.
The air vibrated, the humming thickening into a low roar. Shapes folded and bent, the world itself groaning under the strain.
For a moment, they moved outside the pull — the warped edges peeled back like paint, revealing a void of shifting shadows and impossible angles beyond.
Dani grinned, strangely exhilarated. "That's some heavy shit. Keep it up, printer guy."
The creature screamed — a sound that was not natural — and the fractured reality warped again, pulling at Lance like a tide dragging him under.
He stumbled, barely catching himself, heart pounding harder than ever.
Behind them, the world twisted further — buildings warping into impossible geometries, streets folding back over themselves like mobius strips. The sky bled colors Lance couldn't name, stars blinking in and out like glitching pixels.
They ran.
Not just from a monster.
But from a breaking world.
Lance's hands shook as he felt the twitch inside growing, struggling for control — threatening to rip free.
He glanced down at Dario, who yipped sharply, tail tucked but eyes fierce.
"I don't know how much longer I can hold this," Lance gasped.
Dani didn't slow.
"We'll figure it out," she said. "But first, we survive. Symbiote powers or not."
The chase wasn't just a chase anymore.
It was a collision between worlds.
And Lance was at the center of the storm.
The world wasn't just bending anymore.
It was unraveling.
Buildings twisted into impossible angles—walls folding like paper cranes gone mad, windows yawning open like black mouths screaming silence. The pavement beneath their feet cracked and reformed endlessly, sending ripples through the air like stone thrown into a fevered pond.
Lance stumbled forward, heart thundering in his chest, arms flailing as the twitch inside him spasmed wildly, like an electric nerve on fire. His fingers trembled uncontrollably, and every time he tried to steady himself, the room warped further—walls stretching, shadows deepening.
Behind them, the cow-thing stalked like a warped god of nightmare, hooves soundless but each step shaking the ground. Its bloodshot eyes glowed with a terrible hunger, and its grotesque, nasal mouth flexed in a silent snarl.
Dani moved with brutal efficiency, the comically oversized grenade launcher slung tight across her back. She didn't hesitate—whipping the weapon up and firing into the twisting corridors, each blast erupting with thunder and flame. The explosions cracked reality further, shards of the safe house snapping like broken glass, but they slowed the creature's advance, if only for seconds.
"Keep moving!" Dani barked, voice sharp and urgent. "Don't stop! If it catches you—"
Lance didn't need to hear the rest.
His breath caught as the twitch surged violently—his skin prickling, senses snapping like a live wire. He barely controlled the flicker of heat and distortion flaring uncontrollably from his fingertips, wild bursts that warped the space around him in unpredictable ways.
One moment, the hallway folded in on itself, swallowing a chunk of floor and ceiling whole, and Lance almost fell through.
The next, the air shimmered, and distant walls twisted, revealing glimpses of impossible geometry—rooms that bled into nowhere, staircases folding back to themselves, corners bleeding shadow.
He wanted to scream.
Instead, he grabbed Dario, clenching the dog close as they barreled forward, blinded by the chaos.
Behind them, the cow-thing pressed the assault, limping and twitching from Dani's blasts but relentless.
Another explosion rocked the corridor, and Lance's skin crawled as the twitch inside twisted, seizing control for a brief, terrible moment.
Reality snapped—his vision blurred and doubled—and for a terrifying heartbeat, the world stretched like taffy, warping into an endless void where sound was muted and time slipped away.
He almost lost himself there.
Dani's voice, clipped and frantic, broke through the haze.
"Focus, Lance! Use it, don't let it use you!"
But Lance wasn't sure which it she meant anymore.
His powers, or the thing chasing them.
His legs burned, lungs gasping for air that felt too thin, too thick, too wrong.
The corridor folded once more, a rift tearing open the wall beside them—a yawning maw of darkness that swallowed the ceiling and pulsed with hungry red veins.
The creature's eyes appeared in the shadows first, then the massive form lurched through, blackened and twisted further by the warped reality it dragged behind.
Lance felt the twitch spike, searing through his chest and arms.
He stumbled, nearly dropping Dario.
Grenade fire shattered the dark.
Dani's shots roared louder, explosions ripping through the warped hall, shaking the building and cracking plaster like thunderclaps.
But the cow-thing just snarled, more alive and terrifying with every pulse of the breaking world.
They had nowhere left to run.
Only forward.