Chapter 61
Marco
“I'm sorry!”
Running, a pinball racking up the high score of the forest.
You punched a bear to death.
A shower of bark fell, as he bounced off another thick trunk.
Trying desperately to escape descending death.
Yet here you are.
SCREEE!
He ducked, swatting the air.
“Back off you little– OUCH!”
A chunk of Ken’s left eyebrow disappeared, a drop of blood running down, blurring his vision.
His hand blurred, snatching the feathered assassin mid escape.
The fist started to squeeze.
“YOU LITtle..” he looked down, to see a sparrow’s tiny face.
Large dark orbs looked up at him.
“Tweet.”
…His hand started to relax.
SCREEE!
Blood lanced from his neck.
“Aaaaahhh!” He launched a fastball at the nearest tree.
The tweedy ball went poof, tiny body falling softly to the mossy ground.
One blessed moment of silence.
Ken wiped blood from his neck, muttering, “Okay, we’re even—”
SCREEE-SCREE-SCREE!
Which must have loosely translated to:
SWARM-SWARM-SWARM!
Bits of flesh disappeared, as the last remaining unblemished pieces of his clothing were shredded.
Another chunk vanished from his left eyebrow.
“Owww–aaaahh! Vindictive little bastards! Couldn't make them even!?”
All mercy evaporated.
He became a blender of fists and elbows.
Feathers snowed.
Tiny bodies pinged off trunks.
The sporadic chi bursts tasted like copper pennies and a 9-volt battery on the tongue.
Sharp, cheap, fleeting.
Useless.
Feathers swirled through the air as the Pugilist ran for his life.
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“I said I’m sorry!”
Thankfully he didn't run too much farther before escaping the nightmare turned real.
A few miles later, he leaned against a tree gasping.
“What… the hell… was that.”
Ken had been hunting relentlessly for days, pushing his endurance to its limit.
His new Momentum Tuning was a godsend.
If it moved, it was on the menu.
He had paused, just a moment, catching his breath in a tranquil sunlit glade.
Looking up, there was a cute little bird watching him,
“Tweet!”
The cheerful greeting had teased a smile on Ken’s tired face,
“Hello there, little buddy!”
It did not like being called little buddy.
Swarmed by the feathered minions from hell, he ran for his life.
Another deep breath, calming his racing heart.
“The tiny bits of chi they have taste like shit.”
He spat to the side with a grimace.
It's so… sporadic.
Not a flow to be found.
“Gross.”
He spit again.
His journey had led him far past the familiar mountains and into a sprawling, dense valley.
It was filled with ancient pines, and giant coniferous trees.
Tracking a curious signature.
WUMP.
He jumped, searching with every facet he had.
“There it is again…”
Frown lines deepened, trying to focus on what his senses were telling him.
The sparrows were like static… tiny, annoying sparks.
This... this was a strike from Zeus.
A mountain of momentum that made his own Core feel like a guttering candle in a hurricane.
There would be a strong signal in the distance, but only for a moment.
A signal exponentially stronger than anything he had encountered previously.
It's getting closer.
“Either it's MASSIVE and slow… or it's like… teleporting short distances or something.”
Ken moved toward the center of the valley, soft fertile soil cushioning his steps, when he got another hit.
Head snapping to the right, he charged, excitement building.
Bounding through the trees, he grasped at the feeling of the fading resonance, drawing him to the source.
“Ab–so–lutley nothing. Awesome.”
A calm quiet forest encompassed him.
The only disturbance being him.
“What the hell is going on around here!?”
His boot fore a divot from the forest floor.
Grass flew through the air.
“No giant monstrosities, no torn up trees, nothing…”
Questioning all his life's decisions, he walked the area for a time.
He came to a stop in the shadows of a large, gray-barked tree with wide leaves.
“Fuck this. I must be chasing ghosts.”
Momentum Tuning flared.
“Maybe it's on me? I could just be really shitty at using–”
Right then he felt a massive force.
Directly above him.
Diving to his left, out of his peripheral vision, he saw the world fall with a crash.
Dirt and leaves blew in a wave of wind, stinging his exposed skin.
Rolling to his feet on shaky ground, his mouth dropped open.
“Ohh, that makes sense.”
It wasn't the world that fell, it was a tree.
Vibration rattling his vision from the world-ending sound of wooden cables twisting, and writhing.
The air filled with the smells of damp earth and fresh spring rains.
It didn't just stand, it reclaimed the sky.
Two orbs glowing with vitality turned to look at him.
Ken’s senses didn't just ping.
It roared, matching his unfurling opponent.
It was winding up, blaring like the sun in the motionless surroundings.
“Aren't you people supposed to be nice?”
