'Amazing.'
That was the only word Eli's brain could form.
His chest heaved, lungs stuttering with every sharp inhale.
His body still trembled from the earlier chaos, drenched to the bone, adrenaline tearing through every nerve — and yet, he couldn't look away.
The scene before him didn't look real. It looked like something torn out of a nightmare— or a legend.
Mel's vines were everywhere.
They burst from the water like living serpents, thick and covered in hooked thorns that gleamed faintly under the dim cavern light.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of them writhed upward, wrapping around the octopus's massive limbs, constricting like iron coils.
The sound that followed was a grotesque symphony—wood straining, flesh tearing, water churning.
The creature shrieked, a deep, wet sound that rattled Eli's bones. Its bulk convulsed violently, but the vines only tightened, thorns embedding deeper into its slick, black flesh until thick, tar-like blood spilled into the water.
