The forest clearing was still. The four-headed snake waited, coiled like a mountain of muscle and scales. Its eyes glowed faint red, and its hiss rattled the air like broken glass. Rayon stood at the edge, fingers twitching, Hollow Strings sliding from his skin like threads of shadow.
The artifact's scar on his wrist burned. A reminder: You already died once. Don't waste it again.
He grinned, though his heart thudded harder than he liked to admit. "Alright, monster," he muttered, voice low, "let's dance."
The snake struck first.
A head lunged, mouth open wide, fangs dripping venom thick enough to melt the soil. Rayon flicked his hand—threads shot out, latching onto a tree. He yanked, body whipping sideways as the beast's fangs snapped shut where his chest had been a heartbeat before.
Another head came from the left. Rayon spun, strings whipping outward, slicing across its face. Flesh split. A gush of black blood sprayed the ground, sizzling where it landed. The snake roared, all four heads thrashing in unison.
"Louder," Rayon hissed, pulling the hood over his face, his suit now sprayed with gore. "Scream for me."
The third head surged forward, catching him by surprise. Its fangs grazed his shoulder—skin tore, bone cracked. Rayon snarled, Hollow Strings snapping into the wound and forcing the bleeding shut. Pain burned through him, sharp and hot, but he didn't stop.
He stretched his strings upward, hooking them into the branches above. In an instant, he yanked himself high into the trees, dangling like a predator. The snake reared back, its four heads weaving like a storm.
This wasn't just a fight. This was survival.
Rayon whispered, "Chrono Step."
The world slowed. For three heartbeats, time bent. His body moved faster, smoother, as if the air itself parted for him. He dropped from the branch, landing directly on the snake's back. Strings erupted from his palms and chest, stabbing into the monster's scales like needles.
The creature shrieked as Rayon's threads dug deep, wrapping around muscle, tightening, pulling. He pulled harder, strings sawing into flesh. The sound was wet, tearing, like meat being ripped apart in a butcher's shop.
One head snapped back, trying to bite him off its spine. Rayon grinned and snapped his fingers.
Afterimage.
The serpent's fangs clamped down on nothing but smoke. The real Rayon slid down its side, leaving a bloody streak across its body. His strings tightened again—harder, sharper.
A sickening rip echoed. One of the snake's heads tore clean off. It hit the dirt with a crash, writhing, jaws still snapping even as black blood poured out in rivers.
Rayon stood on the beast's back, coated in gore, breathing heavy but smiling wide. "One down," he spat. "Three to go."
The stakes pressed heavy on him. His artifact had already saved him once. If he died again today, there would be no coming back. No rewinding. No safety net.
This was it. All or nothing.
The snake shrieked, its remaining heads lashing wildly, smashing trees, crushing stone, tearing the forest apart in rage. Rayon's strings snapped outward, hundreds of them, weaving into the air like a web. He dug his boots into the blood-soaked scales and whispered, "Let's see who gets torn apart first."
The clearing became hell.