Riven screamed at Eryndor, making the forgeling hesitate for just a moment. Eryndor turned around, narrowly dodging the incoming swing from the forgeling, only being hit by the debris of the impact.
Eryndor stumbled backwards, his boots scraping across the ground for traction as the impact echoed through the room. Damn! That was too close!
The dust from the impact thinned, just enough for them to see it: A knife lodged deep between two reinforced plates near the center of the forgeling. It was OP 2's blade. Driven in shallowly—he must've found the creature's core and tried to get it before he was killed. The knife hadn't punctured, but it had left just a small dent on the plating.
Eryndor saw it. It wasn't anything more than a flick of the eyes. But it was still enough to recognize the item. He stumbled back to his feet, trying to create distance between him and the creature.
THERE! YOU NEED TO PLUNGE THAT KNIFE DEEPER INTO THAT BASTARD! Riven shouted, running towards his weapon.
"AND HOW DO YOU SUPPOSE I DO THAT!?" Eryndor shouted back.
The forgeling snapped back towards him, lunging at him, this time much slower than usual, like it was growing more and more tired, that being said, that attack was still too fast to react to immediately.
Causing Eryndor to dive to the side, hitting the ground on his shoulder and tumbling a bit. The forgeling plowed past him, tearing through shelves and sending debris clattering all across the floor. The forgeling stood still right after, its limbs pausing for the slightest fraction of a second as its over-rotated body weight slowed it down.
Eryndor used that moment to get back on his feet and catch his breath, albeit not helping very much.
As Eryndor stood up, the forgeling charged at him; however, this time much faster than the last. Its arm swept low, then suddenly flicked upwards. Eryndor jumped back, but the forgeling attack was too quick to avoid, like always. The attack clipped him right in his ribs, knocking the air out of him, then sending him flying into a pile of crates.
Riven quickly picked up his speargun, charging towards the direction of Eryndor. "DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME, ERYNDOR!!!"
Shado also now darted out of the tunnel, scooping up a piece of scrap and hurling it over at the forgeling. It bounced harmlessly off the forgeling frame, but it redirected its attention and sensors for a second.
Riven pointed his speargun at the forgeling again, firing without a single sliver of hesitation. His eyes filled with a burning anger.
"SHADO GRAB YOUR RIFLE. I'LL COVER YOU." Riven said, diverting the forgeling attention to him.
Everything was a blur for Eryndor; it hurt all over, but he knew he couldn't just give up right there and then. He had people who were actively fighting for his sake. Rolling over and dying wasn't something he could just do. He stood up, gripping pieces of wood that were left untouched from the collision.
Eryndor straightened, his breath ragged, dust rolling off his shoulders. His ribs seeming to throb with every inhale he took, but yet he forced himself forward, leaning on a broken plank nearby until he could stand without it.
The forgeling stood in the center of the room, scanning its surroundings. As if it was looking for something or someone.
While the forgeling was in the midst of readjusting, Riven fired again, the speargun's recoil kicking hard against his shoulder, the javelin tore through the air fast enough to strike the damn thing right into its
Plated shoulder, some of its metal clattering onto the floor.
Eryndor arm glowed intensely, a vibrant red now compared to its previous faint or flickering form before. He paused for a moment looking and studying his arm, before snapping out of it, he ran quickly to find cover behind shelves and crates as the forgeling turned to face Riven. Trying to find some way to damage the thing.
The forgeling had already shifted, recalibrating its move, then adjusting its head just a fraction too far before snapping back. The forgeling raised its sharper arm, quickly running towards Riven.
However, the forgeling stopped halfway, quickly jumping backwards from the nearby shelves and crashing into a support beam, causing dust and debris to rain down into the open room. Eryndor grunted as he swung his arm towards where the forgeling once stood, his prosthetic arm seeming to turn another color but then quickly fading away, turning back into that steady red color.
"Eryndor!" Riven rushed to his side, catching him as he almost collapsed.
"This thing is too damn sharp…" Eryndor let out a ragged cough, before backing off Riven to stand on his own feet again. "No matter what we do… this thing just always seems to be one step ahead…"
"No kidding." Riven raised his rifle, taking a glance behind him."What were you even planning to do with just that arm? Huh? Kill it?" Riven scoffed.
"Do you remember that time back in the station when I was able to open that door to the filters? I figured that same logic should apply to this thing…"
"How can you be so sure of that?"
"To be honest, I'm not entirely, but it's my best bet as of now, besides, my arm seems to be reacting to something around here… and im betting its that fucker over there." Eryndor said, clenching his hands into a fist.
"You're kidding… you plan to take that thing head on?"
"hell no, who do I look like taking on thi-"
"WATCH OUT!" Shado Yelled from behind them.
The forgeling charged at Riven and Eryndor, in a moment's instance, causing them to split up again narrowly dodging the incoming attack, the forgeling arm crashed into the ground, shaking the floor beneath them and leaving specs of debris to fly into the air. Eryndor looked behind him, seeing the forgeling arm stuck in the ground.
His body moved instinctively, kicking up dust as he shifted his stance to turn and charge at the creature, his metallic arm already raised into a fist as he gritted his teeth running as fast as he could to catch the bastard off guard.
The forgeling pulled its armed out the ground, snapping its head to look at Eryndor rushing to him. It swung its arm in a sweeping motion, trying to cut down Eryndor in two.
Eryndor slid beneath its twisted yet oddly sharp arm, predicting the forgeling's attack ahead of time.
Eryndor held his breath, quickly striking the thick sheet of metal near its twisted leg, causing shockwaves to vibrate in his arm. It felt as if he was striking straight into a wall. The forgeling staggered half a step backwards, its metal screeching as its foot scraped against the concrete.
Still, it moved.
Eryndor quickly got back on his feet, only narrowly avoiding another attack as he felt a slick of metal scrap the side of his cheek, piercing his mask and causing him to draw blood.
Eryndor grunted, stumbling back a tiny amount as the pain flared hotly across his face. He wiped the blood with the back of his hands, smearing it across his knuckles then focusing his attention back onto the forgeling.
The forgeling didn't move right away, instead it just stood there, its body moving slowly up and down, like it was slowly taking deep breaths.
Just what the hell is it doing now..? Eryndor thought, looking around his surroundings with short glances.
If we can lure this thing into a trap maybe we ca-
The forgeling suddenly began removing clumps of metal from its skin, becoming narrower and narrower. The knife where OP 2 had plunged within the forgeling armor collapsed onto the ground alongside the rest of the creature's metal.
Shado's and Eryndor eyes widened as the forgeling began to shed off its armor, but Riven eyes narrowed, raising his speargun to fire another javelin towards the forgeling. It swiped its arm, reflecting the incoming projectile.
"DANGER! DANGER! ACTIVATING PROTOCOL-048!"
Shado launched another volley of bullets, but each round reflected off its reinforced metal.
Dammit… What do we do now? Think Shado! think!
Shado ducked back behind a nearby toppled shelf as another round sparked uselessly off the forgeling's exposed frame. The thing was smaller now, leaner, and much faster than before. Its movements seem tighter, like one of a ballerina.
It had cut away everything unnecessary to its survival.
The forgeling then stepped forward, each of its movements lighter and sharper in a way.
Riven fired again, his javelin striking dead center of where the core is, yet the javelin bounced away, clattering uselessly across the floor.
That shot was perfect, yet it still didn't scratch the damn thing! Riven gritted his teeth, preparing another round. "ANY IDEAS?" Riven shouted, taking cover behind some old gears and crates.
Eryndor nor Shado answered immediately.
However, Eryndor didn't answer because of not knowing what to do, but rather it was because he had his focus locked onto something entirely different. Old uninvited memories began to flood back, old oil barrels that were cheap and volatile, in which they were plentiful in the logistics warehouses.
His breath hitched, The fuel reserve… of course, how did I not think of them any earlier?
Shado noticed Eryndor's concerns, shouting over towards him. "ERYNDOR, YOU LOOK LIKE YOU KNOW SOMETHING WE DONT, WHAT IS IT?"
Eryndor tore his gaze away from the far wall of the room. Meeting his gaze back onto the incoming forgeling that walked towards him this time.
"SHADO, he yelled. "YOU SEE THOSE BARRELS OVER BY THE FAR WALL?"
Shado leaned out of cover just enough to follow eryndor gaze. His eyes narrowed instantly. "Fuel?"
"WE'LL USE THOSE FUEL BARRELS TO BURN THIS BASTARD TO THE GROUND." Eryndor shouted, grunting in pain from his injuries.
"THAT STUFF SHOULD STILL BURN. IF I CAN LURE IT OUT TO CHASE ME, THEN YOU CAN BURN THAT FUCKER BY SHOOTING THE BARRELS!"
Shado hesitated for a moment, BUT, THAT'LL BURN YOU UP TOO YOU KNOW!"
"I KNOW," Eryndor said, running towards the wall. "JUST DON'T MISS!"
As Eryndor ran, the Forgeling chased him, lunging towards his back which grazed him again, making Eryndor lose his balance for a moment.
"ARGH!" Pain screamed through his already broken ribs as he continued running, his boots pounding against the concrete slick with metal and debris. The heat from the creature's core brushing his back as it gave chase, its steps closing the distance frighteningly fast.
Riven followed not too far behind the Forgeling, pausing, before shouting something inaudible to Eryndor before firing another javelin towards the forgeling that was in pursuit of Eryndor.
The Javelin tore through the sky for the last time, crashing into the frame of the Forgeling but not piercing it. The forgeling slowed down, hesitating another swing. Making it lose its distance on Eryndor.
The first barrel flashed past his left, then the second on his right. "NOW!" Eryndor yelled.
Shado's rifle cracked, the barrel's metal splitting open with a hollow thump, oil bursted outwards, splashing across the floor and Eryndor's boots as he sprinted past. A second shot followed immediately, causing fire to bloom.
Not an explosion, but rather a violent surge of flame that raced across the spilled fuel and climbed upwards in a roaring wave.
The forgeling staggered, flames wrapping around its legs, crawling up its exposed joints and seams, slipping into places that its armor once covered. The hum that its body once rang began to rise sharply, then fracturing into a harsh static.
T-T-THERMAL S-SYSTEM—ER-ERROR." the voice crackled. "---R-RE-RECALIBRATING—"
It swung wildly, its movements losing their precision as fire clung stubbornly all over its frame. The smoke poured from gaps near its torso, causing the glow from its core to flicker unevenly now.
Eryndor took cover behind a collapsed shelf, coughing hard as the heat and pain washed over him. He pressed a hand to his ribs, leaning over to see the forgeling screeching and spiral out of control.
Riven snatched the knife OP 2 had dropped earlier, its weight familiar and wrong in his hand. His footsteps were careful as he moved, keeping wide of the forgeling's erratic swings. He stopped several meters behind it—not close enough to be reckless, but close enough to see the damage inflicted on it.
The thing shrieked again, its movements jagged now, fire clinging to its exposed frame in uneven patches.
Shado shifted positions, dragging himself behind a stack of untouched crates as he reloaded with shaking hands. "I'M RUNNING LOW," he yelled, breathless, keeping his rifle trained despite it.
"THEN WE END THIS RIGHT HERE!," Riven shouted back.
He waited. Not for an opening—those were already long gone—but for a mistake.
Shado fired again, a short, controlled burst. The rounds sparked uselessly against the forgeling's frame, but its head snapped toward the sound. Its arm followed a fraction too late, swinging high and wide.
Riven moved.
He ducked under the first swing, heat washing over his back as the burning metal passed overhead. His boots slid on the oil-slick concrete, forcing him to plant a hand against the floor to keep from going down. The forgeling turned faster than he expected, its other arm cutting in from the side.
Riven leapt onto a crate, the old and dusty crate crumbling beneath his weight. The next swing tore straight through where his legs had been a moment earlier.
He didn't hesitate.
Using the collapsing crate as leverage, Riven threw himself forward, driving the knife up toward the exposed glow at the center of the forgeling's torso.
The blade struck—but didn't slide in cleanly.
The resistance nearly tore it from his grip. The core flared violently, light pulsing hard enough to force him to look away as the forgeling let out a sound that was less like a scream and more of a tearing grind of metal and static.
Riven gritted his teeth and shoved harder.
The forgeling thrashed, its arms slamming blindly into the floor and nearby shelves. One blow caught Riven in the side, hurling him down onto his shoulder, but he refused to let go. The knife stayed buried, vibrating violently as cracks spidered outward from the point of impact.
The glow flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then it fractured.
The core split with a sharp, hollow snap, light bleeding out in jagged pulses before collapsing inward. The hum that had filled the room cut out all at once.
The forgeling froze mid-motion.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then its legs buckled, the fire guttering out as its frame collapsed onto the concrete in a dead, lifeless heap. Smoke drifted upward from the ruined core, the metal cooling with faint, uneven pops.
Riven rolled away and lay still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving.
Across the room, Eryndor sagged against the remains of a shelf, his prosthetic arm dimming back to its steady red glow. The silence pressed in around them—heavy, broken only by the crackle of dying flames and the sound of all three of them trying to breathe.