"Hah... hah..." He sucked in air, lungs burning. His legs gave out.
Heal. I need to heal.
But his body had other plans. He was already falling backward.
Hermes blinked once—
And there was a massive toothy maw, wide enough to swallow two of him, descending directly toward his face.
Time slowed.
Instinct took over. The moment his back touched the ground, he reached deep inside himself and pulled. His innate ability surged outward, and the stone beneath him shifted—transmuted—molding itself around his form. He sank into the giant hand like water into sand.
CRASH!
The creature's jaws slammed into the spot where he'd lain a heartbeat before. Through the human-shaped hole surrounding him, Hermes could see the dark cavern of its throat.
If he'd been any later...
He didn't finish the thought. He couldn't.
He reached out with his ability again, pulling more stone over himself, sealing the gap, hiding.
Rumble.
Crash.
Grind.
The monster thrashed above, searching, trying to wreak havoc. Each impact sent vibrations through Hermes's bones.
He lay paralyzed in the darkness.
Chatter. Chatter. Chatter.
His teeth wouldn't stop. Wouldn't stop chattering.
Tears streamed down his face, mixing with snot. Goosebumps covered every inch of his skin despite the sweat pouring off him. At some point—he didn't know when—his bladder had released.
In any other situation, Hermes might have laughed at himself. Might have made a joke.
But he had just escaped the embrace of death itself.
He lay shivering in a pool of his own piss, sweat, tears, and snot—and felt nothing but gratitude. He was alive. Somehow, impossibly, alive.
Rumble.
Crash.
Grind.
The monster continued its rampage above. Hermes could feel every impact through the stone.
He pushed himself deeper, reinforcing the barrier above him. He couldn't go too far—if he sank through the palm of the giant statue entirely, he'd fall into the dark sea. But he needed distance. He needed safety.
He lay in that small, claustrophobic space for what felt like hours.
When his breathing finally steadied, the pain hit him all at once.
His back. His shoulders. His broken forearm. Every scrape, every tear, every bruise made itself known with vicious clarity.
"Guh!"
Heal. I need to heal.
He raised his left hand—his good hand—and began inscribing runes in the darkness.
Healing. Regeneration. Health. Physical Vitality. Energy. Tenacity.
The spell activated.
Pain exploded through him—not lessening, but amplifying. A million ants crawled beneath his skin, burrowing, biting, itching. The urge to scratch, to peel his own flesh off, became almost overwhelming.
Healing required accelerated cellular repair—cells dividing, tissues rebuilding, nerves reconnecting. His body was being forced to regenerate at an unnatural rate.
The sensation was unbearable.
"AAAAAAAAAAH!" He thrashed in the confined space, making everything worse. His broken arm slammed against stone. His torn back scraped against the rough surface.
He forcibly stopped the spell.
"Hngh... Haah... Haah..." Tears streamed down his face again. He forced himself to think through the agony.
I need something for the pain. I'll go insane otherwise. Do it quickly.
Think, Hermes. THINK!
When he had used this healing spell in his room at the Academy the feeling of pain and itchiness was bearable. It felt like nothing. But then again the injuries Hermes had inflicted upon himself were not as severe as his current predicament.
He began inscribing again.
Exchange. Pain. Transformation. Pleasure. Comfort.
The moment the spell activated, relief washed through him. It was hard to describe—the pain didn't vanish, but it changed. Transformed into something else. Something warm and soft and good.
He let out a shuddering breath and collected himself.
Then he began the healing spell again.
Healing. Regeneration. Health. Physical Vitality. Energy. Tenacity.
This time, instead of unbearable pain—
Pleasure.
Not ordinary pleasure. Something beyond. Beyond his mind's capacity to process. Beyond his physical limits. Beyond his mental endurance.
His eyes rolled back. A disturbingly blissful expression spread across his face.
And he passed out cold.
Hermes woke to a disgusting smell and crushing pressure in his chest.
He couldn't breathe.
His lungs convulsed uselessly as his body desperately tried to draw in oxygen.
Carbon dioxide had built up inside the tiny cavity while he was unconscious.
His vision darkened.
His skin flushed purple.
Air.
Hermes realized what had happened.
He forced his left hand upward and transmuted a narrow tunnel through the stone—no wider than a fist.
A thin ray of light pierced the darkness.
Fresh air rushed down the shaft.
Hermes gasped violently, dragging oxygen into his lungs.
His body shook as his breathing slowly stabilized.
He quickly inscribed two runes.
Wind. Flow.
A faint current began flowing through the cramped cavity, replacing the stale air.
Hermes collapsed back against the stone, lungs burning as the fresh air slowly steadied his breathing.
Then the light vanished.
Hermes froze.
A shadow passed across the opening.
For a moment, there was only darkness again.
Then something scraped softly against the edge of the tunnel.
Stone grated against something hard.
Hermes felt his stomach drop.
No…
Very slowly, he lifted his head and looked up.
At first he saw nothing.
Just darkness filling the hole.Then the darkness blinked.
A massive, blood-red serpentine eye stared down into the tunnel.
Unblinking. Staring at him.
The pupil narrowed slightly. As if focusing.
The creature had finally realized exactly where he was hiding.
Hermes' blood turned to ice.